#tell me she wouldn’t own your ass if she sang it

[anthrofreshtodeath]

Prompt: telling them they deserve better (and silently wanting to be the one who gives it to them)

Thank you !!! 💛

Please don’t give up doing prompt snippets 🙏 yours are always so good 😊

Let's do it! Life got in the way, but this prompt is complete. I ignored the "silently" part, though, whoops.

___

Maura walked down the hall of the fourth floor of BPD, where the staff gym was housed. Sometimes, different departments ran training from the main area, using the padded flooring for de-escalation and self-defense. The rest of the time, employees were free to use the weights and the machines as they pleased. 

Maura arrived at the heavy double doors all the way at the end of the hall, and breathed a sobering breath. There was no slip of paper on it to denote any trainings, and she’d suspected as much. 

This increased the chances that Jane was on the other side of the doors exponentially. 

Maura couldn’t, however, bring herself to open them just yet. Because opening them would mean confronting Jane, precisely what she came to do, but confrontation required guts Maura was unsure she had. 

Tap. Tap. Thump. Tap. Tap. Thump.

Sounds Maura expected to hear. Sounds that signaled that Jane really did exist on the other side, and that Maura had no time to wring her hands over this face to face she’d planned.

Things were dire.

Maura pulled the right door open, and inhaled until her posture turned regal, icy. She needed the Queen of the Dead. Her heels clacked when she marched toward the punching bags. One bag sang against the stale air, air that smelled vaguely like sweat and something sweet, some kind of cleaning supply.

Jane punched it. Repeatedly.

Maura took a moment to study the hits themselves - it wasn’t that it was wild, but she saw rage in Jane’s method. Each third hit in the sequence was her deadliest, the punch she never used when teaching Maura self-defense, or sparring with her. 

Jane meant to be alone, with the demons she battled when she thought no one watched her. Maura thought about clearing her throat, but Jane either wouldn’t hear, or would ignore.

But Jane would never ignore her voice. “Jane,” she said. Firm. Measured. With a not unnoticeable amount of displeasure.

Jane’s next jab thundered into leather, sputtering and corrective. She’d heard, alright. She stopped. “Hey, Maura.” 

Maura studied Jane’s broad, shining shoulders, exposed by her tank top - white and blotched with sweat. When Jane breathed, winded from exertion, Maura stepped closer - learned Jane’s pulse until her own matched it. And that riled her. “I’m here to scold you.”

Jane raised one eyebrow and bared her pretty white teeth when she smirked. “Oh yeah? For what? Tellin’ Frankie not to kiss you? Beatin’ Tommy’s ass outside that bar? Any aspect of the shit storm that has landed on Rizzoli island lately?”

Now, or never, despite Jane’s handsomeness. “None of that. This is about your… your piss poor romantic decisions.”

This time, Jane wavered between pride in Maura’s colloquialism and indignance. “Excuse me?” She said, lips now turned down in a tight frown. 

Maura gulped down some confidence, hoping that when it reached her belly it would eventually metabolize into her bloodstream. She needed it fast. “You heard me. You spent the entire weekend in my home, lamenting that the man who once told you he’d settle down if you married him decided that you were no longer worth it.”

Jane, still taller despite Maura’s footwear, inched closer with a finger in the air. “Hey, you know he-”

Maura stamped one of those feet. “Don’t defend him,” she ordered. Jane froze, finger suspended between them. “Don’t give him any more rope to hang himself. He’s already done it. But here’s what I do not understand, Jane, despite having known you for years now - why would you consent to being treated that way?”

“That’s my business,” Jane replied lamely, dropping her taped hand to her side. “What say do you have in my romantic life?”

“You can claim your independence, your privacy, when you don’t fall apart with me every time he wavers. When you don’t crawl into my bed on the late nights he’s rescinded all his promises. When I don’t even stir because you do it so often now,” Maura hadn’t planned this part of the tirade, but she couldn’t stop. She stood toe-to-toe with Jane, who looked down on her defiant look upwards; she placed her entire right hand on Jane’s shoulder, palm flat. 

When Jane steeled for confrontation, Maura’s hand slipped closer to her clavicle. “You better watch what you say next,” said Jane. The tenor was that of a threat, but there was no bite to it. 

Maura spread her fingers. “Your heart,” she began, and they both looked to where she would be able to feel the roar of the subclavian artery. “It’s crying out for me right now. And it’s crying out for me every time you seek me out. So why? Why accept less than what you deserve? You deserve better.”

Jane deflated. But a small smile accompanied it. “You’re better?”

Maura scoffed. “You don’t think so?” she asserted, however, when she saw Jane’s lips quirk.

“I don’t think there’s anybody better than you,” admitted Jane. “But I also don’t think there’s anyone more scared than me.”

“I can be brave enough for the both of us,” Maura told her. Her hand slipped from Jane’s chest until it fell and caught one of Jane’s fingers. Maura refused to let it go.

[soberncraving]

𝙨𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙘𝙝 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧 𝙭 𝙙𝙤𝙢, 𝙗𝙧𝙪𝙣𝙚𝙩𝙩𝙚 𝙢𝙖𝙨𝙘

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: you and a good friend ruin y’all’s friendship <3

(𝕚 𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕝𝕝𝕪 𝕨𝕣𝕠𝕥𝕖 𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕤 𝕗𝕠𝕣 𝕞𝕪 𝕖𝕝𝕝𝕚𝕖-𝕝𝕠𝕧𝕚𝕟𝕘-𝕝𝕒𝕕𝕚𝕖𝕤, 𝕓𝕦𝕥 𝕚 𝕨𝕒𝕟𝕥𝕖𝕕 𝕚𝕥 𝕥𝕠 𝕓𝕖 𝕒𝕧𝕒𝕚𝕝𝕒𝕓𝕝𝕖 𝕥𝕠 𝕒𝕝𝕝)

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ/ᴡʜᴀᴛᴇᴠᴇʀ: smut (mdni), afab, oral, f*nger b*nging <3, playful+brunette masc, cigarettes, rough-ish sex, dom x switch and switch x dom ):)

•𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐚 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞, 𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐠𝐨 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐛𝐨𝐨𝐛𝐢𝐞 𝐬𝐲𝐦𝐛𝐨𝐥 ( . Y . )

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: abt 3,200 :)

———————————————————————

she bursts in your bedroom, you pull your headphones down, startled by the door slamming into your dresser.

“i’ve been knocking for like an hour!” she yelled playfully. you chuckle, raising an eyebrow, “you said you were leaving your house 20 minutes ago.” she rolled her eyes, “i’m a multidimensional creature.”

“OH-KAY.”

you both laughed, she jumped on the bed, practically on top of you, sending your body into the air for a split second.

she knocked your phone out of your hands, demanding your attention, “i have something to tell you, y/n. a BURNING desire. are you listening?!”

“let’s hear it!” you encouraged.

“i’m really craving pizza, and i need cigarettes. drive me to the gas station?” she begged with her eyes.

“really? you passed TWO on the walk here.”

“i lost my ID last week…i need yours. come on, PLEEEAAASE!” she whined. she had a baby face, no one EVER sold her cigarettes without her ID.

“oh, shut up!“ you stood up, grabbing your keys. they made a little jingle sound that she loved, she was like a puppy excited for a car ride every time she heard it. she sprung up out the bed, smacking your ass cheeks separately, left cheek, right cheek, then your left again before running past you, bumping you into the door frame in the process. you jumped, widening your eyes and shaking your head, you put on a side smile and followed her outside. she was leaning on the car with her hand on the door, waiting for you to unlock it like a man-child.

soon as you turned on the ignition, she took initiative to disconnect your bluetooth and connect her own, playing Power Trip by J Cole. you looked at her and rolled your eyes, she didn’t pay any mind to you as she sang the opening and lit her last cigarette.

you pulled up to the store, the song still playing, she throws her hand on your chest and pushes you back into the seat when you reach for the keys, so she can rap AT you,

“WELL, THIS HAS GOTTA BE THE LONGEST CRUSH EVA, IF I EVA GET’A FUCK IT’D BE THE LONGEST BUST EVA” her other hand pointed at you, moving to the beat.

“COME ON!” you belly laughed.

“…LOVE IS A DRUG, LIKE THE STRONGEST STUFF EVER AND-

FUCK IT, IM ON ONE!”

you shoved her hand and turned the car off, reaching for the door handle.

“HEY!” she yelled.

“you’re so annoying.” you blushed, turning your body to get out the car.

you pulled your card out to pay for the cigarettes and she threw a diet coke on the counter, “this too.” she rapped her left hand around your waist, pretending she was about to kiss you in front the cashier before you shoved her head in the opposite direction and inserted your card into the machine. “i’ll cashapp you.” she whispered. no she wouldn’t. on the way out you handed her your phone to order the pizza while you drive.

she opened her diet coke, it fizzed up and spilled on her lap. “‘t looks like you pissed yourself.” you giggled, eyeing her bottom half. “oh, thanks!” you got up, picking out a pair of your pajama pants for her to change into, the ones you knew she loved the most. her eyes lit up as you turned around with them and she smiled a warm smile. “really?!”

“really really!” you answered, watching her pull her pants down. you averted your eyes, trying not to make her uncomfortable. she walked up to you, closer than necessary to take the pants from. she bent over in front of you to put each leg in. her head hovered in front of your torso. you watched her, realizing that maybe this behavior was intentional. she had been at it since she walked in the door. then again, wasn’t she always like this?

she came up slowly, looking from your lips, to your eyes. she kept a serious, straight face- a rare sight.

the door bell rang. “PIZZA!” you turned, looking back at her nervously one more time before you turned completely around to get the pizza.

she came behind you, reaching her arm out beside you to hand him a tip, then snatched the pizza out of your hand. she threw it on the counter and opened it, handing you the first slice. you reached your hand out to grab it when she reverted back to her chest, “what do you say?”

“please.”

“good girl.”

“shut the hell up.” you took the pizza from her, plopping down on the bar stool.

you walked to the bathroom to wash the pizza off your hands, she used the kitchen sink. you guys met in the bedroom. “movie?” she asked. you handed her the remote, not feeling very decisive. “go for it!”

she grabbed the remote and turned on the tv. she leaned back on the bed, her right hand on the back of her neck for support. one knee was bent, the other laying flat on the bed, her shoes still on.

you moved your hair to your right side, exposing your neck to the cold breeze from your vent. she picked at her cuticles and cracked her knuckles on her lap. you wanted to lay your head on her chest, but you didn’t want to be weird. she looked over at you to see what you were doing. “horror?” she asked.

“of course.”

she pressed play on the movie, pulling out her cigarettes and moving over to the chair next to your window. you kept a skull shaped ashtray there just for her; you didn’t usually smoke. but this time, you went over to her, sitting at her feet. you gently took the cigarette out of her mouth, inhaling and blowing the smoke out the window. you watched the movie, while she watched you. she scooted over, moving one of her legs so that you were between them. she ran her free hand through your hair, brushing it. you leaned your head back into her and shut your eyes. “that feels nice.” you cooed, letting the buzz of that once-a-month-cigarette do it’s thing. “you feel nice.” she responded. on that note, you got up and walked back to the bed. she watched you, staring at your curvature.

she crawled back on top of your duvet, kicking her converse off. she took a sip of her diet coke before she leaned back, recreating her usual position. she put her arm out towards you this time though, indicating that she wanted you to lay on her. you scooted closer, laying your head on her chest. you nervously pulled your arm up to your chest and balled up next to her. she took you by the back of your thigh and pulled it so that your leg was on top of her own.

you stayed like this for a good thirty minutes, flinching sometimes at the movie, laughing at the dramatic bits, catching yourselves caressing each other naturally and correcting it. you lifted your head to see if she was sleeping, she looked right back at you, your faces just inches apart. “you okay?” she asked, concerned. “just checking to see if you were asleep.”

“oh, were you?” she asked, skeptical.

“yes…?”

“wide awake.” she held eye contact with you, waiting to see if you’d be the first to look away, but you didn’t.

“what?” you asked, your heart beating through your chest, the blood rushing to your sensitive parts; your body could feel what she wanted before you even caught on.

“what you?” she was hovering over your lips, you asked yourself when she had even gotten this close. her hot breath lingered on your bottom lip, making the hairs on your arm stand up. you broke the distance and kissed her, she kissed you back.

you broke apart, asking each other for consent with your eyes before indulging yourselves in one another. she guided you onto your back with her gentle hand, laying on your side. she wiggled her leg between yours, rubbing the ball of her foot up and down your calf while she kissed you. you didn’t know what to do; you were so nervous, but so desperate for her. your delicate hands floated to her face, holding onto her firmly. you played with the hem of her (your) pajama pants while she moved herself on top of you completely.

“is this okay…?” she asked before she deepened the kiss. you nodded, brushing her hair behind her ear while it fought to fall in your face. the pendant on her chain rested in between your cleavage when she lowered herself down onto you, kissing you harder. she ran her fingers up the back of your hair from your neck, absorbing every moment of being in your space. she paid attention to you, to the way you shivered when she touched the back of your neck and the depth of your waist.

she reached under your shirt, unhooking your bra. she lifted your shirt off of you, “are you sure?” she asked, genuinely.

“i’m sure.” you were so shy. she took your shirt off and pulled your bra down your arms. she felt up and down your body while kissing your neck, biting it every so often. she got rougher, getting a feel for what you were into.

you seemed to melt when she used more force, so she tested your limits a little. she moved down, swirling her tongue around your nipple, then biting down on it gently. she bit you again, harder this time, your heavy breaths grew louder. she kissed all the way down to your jeans, unzipping them before she looked up at you for consent one last time.

she was afraid of making you uncomfortable, or ruining the connection you two shared.

“do you want me to touch you?” the words went in your ears and straight to your clit, her use of the term ‘touch’ was so hot, yet so wholesome. you felt safe. you needed her to touch you. “if that’s what you want…” you answered.

she crawled back up your body, leaving a sweet kiss on your forehead before asking you again, “do you want me to touch you?”

you swallowed, “uh huh.” she crawled back down, taking your jeans off in a hurry. she licked from the back of your knee to your inner thigh, kisses turning into bites. you squirmed underneath her. “you like rough, don’t you?” she asked, a smile across her pretty face. you smiled in response, excited but too nervous to say anything; she caught your drift. she stood up and grabbed the backs of your knees, pulling your weight against her before she got down on her knees, tearing your panties off and putting them in her pocket. she was fast to grab you by your ass and pull you into her mouth. you let out a loud groan before throwing your hand over you mouth.

( . Y . )

“feel how wet you are.” she brought your hand to your slick, looking at you with daring eyes as she pushed her fingers inside of you once, jerking your body backwards. the headboard slammed against the wall, she paused and then thrusted again, and again, “touch yourself, baby” she noticed how your fingers just hovered over your pussy, unsure of what to do. you acted embarrassed, “what do you mean..?”

“make yourself feel good...” she picked out your pointer finger, placing the flat of it on your clit, and rubbing it in circles for you with the palm of her hand, “…Or i won’t.”

your eyes rolled back a little, not even at how good it felt, but how fucking hot she was, the way she made you feel so needy. you groaned as she added another finger, jerking your body again.

she pulled her fingers out slowly, making sure you felt the emptiness she left you with, then opened your mouth with her middle finger, sliding two into your mouth, “what, can’t talk?” her free hand pressed on yours which laid still on your clit, and she moved it for you until you finally caught onto her rhythm, your body twitched a little at the controlled contact, your clit pulsing. she pulled her fingers out of your mouth, unraveling your tongue between them, and began fucking you again.

touching yourself was one thing, but touching yourself with assistance was different, absolutely life altering to say the least. it only took you about 45 seconds before you started inching to an orgasm, shaking underneath her as she pounded into you. she felt your pussy start to close around her fingers and slowed down, almost to a stop, “did i say you could come yet?” she picked up speed again, slapping your hand away and latching onto your clit like an animal, sucking sloppily and hard.

“fu- oh my god. just like- just like that. FUCK.” you cried out, you reached for the pillow behind you, pushing it off the bed and throwing your head backwards. an arch formed in your back and your legs fell to your sides, giving her even more access to your sex.

she lapped her tongue up and down, sucking on your folds. she pulled her fingers out and circled her tongue around your entrance, as she shoved her fingers in your mouth again to make you taste how (sweet/ salty/ bitter) you were. she sucked, dipping her tongue in you. she ate out of you like you were a pudding cup, curving her tongue inside you to lick all of your mess out. her hand reached under and around your thigh, with her upper arm cradling the crease of your ass, she used her thumb to rub your clit. “you’re such a mess, baby.” she moaned into you, causing you to whine and arch your back even more. you looked down to notice her hips bucking at the bed.

you heaved, whining at every exhale. “please-“ you moaned again, “let me come- please” you cried and begged, your body starting to shake again. she said nothing, she just moved her lips back up to your clit, cupping you in her tongue as she sucked rhythmically. she inserted two fingers inside of you, curving up into your spot with just the right amount of pressure to drive you crazy- to draw your orgasm out.

you grabbed at her, one hand clawing at her shoulder and the other basically ripping her hair out. you used her brunette strands to guide her head up and down on your clit, approaching your orgasm again.

“okay.” she finally answered, and you released all the pressure- your come pooled in her mouth, dripping down her chin and all over her nose while she kept going past your breaking point, you closed your thighs on her as if you were trying to crush her skull, she pried them apart with her strong hands and held them down. you grabbed her wrists and fought her.

she looked up at you, surprised, i guess she expected you to be more submissive. you caught her off guard, pulling her onto your chest and then flipping over on top of her, straddling her lap. you tore her shirt off, careful not to catch any of her piercings.

you crawled down her and spread her legs, pulling the plaid pajama pants off so aggressively they hit the wall with a “THUD”when you threw them. you took her boxers off, paying little attention you left them dangling on her left foot; she laughed at how eager you were.

she didn’t think it was funny when you grabbed her by her hair and pulled her into your mouth, sucking on her tongue and biting her bottom lip. she melted into you, her hands climbing up your knees, to your thighs, giving them a tight squeeze before reaching for your hips. she guided you to grind on her, trying to establish some sort of control.

you grabbed her wrists, pinning them to the bed. “nuh uh.“ you felt her smirk in your mouth after denying her. you kissed down to her nipples, taking the opportunity to look up at her and watch how you dismantle her. her eyes already crossing, her back beginning to arch, her little whimpers as she tried not to sound too girly when you touched her, and you weren’t even started.

wasting no time you grabbed the backs of her thighs and pushed them up, diving into the drippy disaster you had created between her legs. “oh… feel how wet you are.” you reached for her hand, bringing it down to her clit. her eyelids got heavy and you could only see the whites of her eyes as she started circling her clit.

“good girl.” you whispered. you ran your fingers through her slit, looking for her entrance, then slowly pushed your fingers inside of her. a pathetic moan followed your touch, she completely submitted to you. you felt all her muscles relax as you moved in and out of her, only tensing up when you brushed her g-spot. she was rubbing her clit a little faster, and you couldn’t help but feel jealous; you wanted a part in this too. it started off as you proving a point, giving her a taste of her own medicine, but you wanted a taste of her.

you moved her hand out the way and licked all the wet from her hole to her clit, sucking and releasing her clit with a “POP” her body jolted and she smiled. “you’re not too bad at this.” she said, distracting you. you refocused, finding a speed she seemed to dance for, and stuck with that.

her whimpers graduated to moans, and almost to screams, while you added another finger with force, the headboard slamming against the wall harder than it had when she fucked you, to her surprise. the noise echoed through the apartment , probably alerting the neighbors. you didn’t care, you liked how good it made her feel. how she was completely vulnerable for the first time in front of you.

you brought her to her finish, her legs shook and she let out one last drawn out moan, followed by a sigh of relief, you laid your head on her inner thigh, holding on to the side of her ass that poked out from underneath her and spilled onto the mattress.

it had just become your favorite little detail about her.

you looked up at her, still catching her breath, and smiled. she pulled you up to taste herself, both of you breathing heavily into each others mouths, your skin glistened in the yellow-tinted lamp light.

you shared a laugh mid-kiss, separating to press your foreheads together. you caressed one another.

“i guess this makes us BEST friends, doesn’t it?” you remarked. she shoved your shoulder playfully,

“sure.”

[crimsun-n-clover]

last night my guitarist and i went to waffle house after our miserable practice. we put a five in the jukebox and basically held it hostage for more than an hour. i guess heart of glass by blondie is our song now. the employees have gotten attached to us and our server straight up asked me for a ride home. i love waffle house so goddamn much.

we had our gigs today. the punk band sounded kinda shitty but that’s alright. it’s all on the new guitarist, but he’s a decent kid. i met his dad today and suddenly i’m feeling protective over the bastard now that i know what his parent is like. he wrote a riffs for an original song that we played, and i put lyrics about identity to it.

apparently our drummer lied to us and is actually on vacation. man i fucking trusted her. she said she had a family emergency and we did everything to cover for her, and i even had to play fucking drums on one of the songs because our fill in drummer didn’t know how to play it and i did. i sang while playing drums and let me just say, never again. jesus. christ. it definitely sounded like shit and i have blisters.

at least the band has a bunch of followers on insta purely because of the outrageous name.

OH AND the hot bassist from the prog rock band we share the stage with is interested in joining our metal band. fucking SCORE. she’s so insanely talented and i actually met her on tumblr before i met her in person and she started talking and i was like waiiit a minute. are you?? that one person i know on tumblr???? and she was so shocked but she WAS. fucking wild. now i can sing without playing bass for that band, because i can’t stand still in front of a mic while singing metal shit. it’s fucking impossible. “stevie you gotta eat the mic” FUCK OFF im jamming around and don’t have a hand free to keep the mic directly by my mouth.

i guess we gotta initiate her. which means watching rocky horror together, going to waffle house, and putting a dollar in the jukebox to play heart of glass.

my favorite kiddo showed up at the show. she isn’t even in the band anymore and she still wanted to see it. she’s welcome to come back whenever, she’s the randy to my ozzy. scrawny little blonde guitar god who writes solos that don’t make much musical sense but sound AMAZING and i’m very attached to her. you know that shit ozzy said about “either he’s the best fucking thing i’ve ever heard in my life or these drugs are really good”?? yeah.

i found out that she got a LEAD ROLE in a musical, talented little brat. she also gave me a birthday gift which i TOLD HER not to, but it’s candy, little squishy toy dinosaurs (which are getting their own shelf in the trailer but i’m not telling her. her ego is big enough), and a note that she wouldn’t let me read. i did the same shit with her gift so i don’t blame her. after the gig, i read it in the parking lot and fucking cried. i love her so goddamn much. she wrote about how she’s so glad i stayed with her even though she left the band, how we have been through some crazy shit but she didn’t mind because we were together, and how we have a bunch of adventures and mini cupcakes in our future. when i picked her up last time, we bought a dozen cupcakes from target and fucking devoured them in the parking lot. she ended it with “i love you man. from your little brat, ____” and when i tell you i had to turn off my dio cd?? to catch my fucking breath?????

god.

my catholic grandparents came to see it which i wasn’t very happy about. i intended to pull a bunch of stunts to piss off the guy who manages the school / studio we practice in, but my nervous ass completely skipped over it all trying to rush to get the set done. i only got in like two jabs when i’ve composed original music about how much of a dick he is. disappointing. i had SO MUCH blackmail AND mocking material.

i’m gonna put our shit on instagram. goodnight tumblr.

[elijahhudson]

delicate

spring - after msg show

Eli looks at Faye and laughs softly, “Honestly? I had taken a music theory class to fulfill some requirements and wrote a couple of songs. I got drunk at some bar’s open mic night, went up with my guitar, sang them.. and Jade was there. And she said I had real potential which confused the hell out of me cause I didn’t even think I could sing.”

Faye leans her head back against the car and hums softly, “You must have some good karma out there because now look at you.”

He smiles, “I know I don’t technically owe it all to Jade, but I wouldn’t be here without her.”

She nods and smiles over at him, “Of course. She’s really nice and I definitely thought you were fucking her.”

Eli can’t help but let out a loud laugh and he grins at her, “I can see where you’re coming from but I honestly feel like I’d already be murdered if I ever even made a pass at her.”

Faye shakes her head and laughs as she lowers her voice so the driver can’t hear, “So why aren’t you really fucking anyone while touring? Clearly you’re just as wild as before..more so actually.”

His smile falls a little and he speaks softly, “I just don’t trust anyone.. I don’t wanna be used.”

She raises her brows slightly and hums, “I don’t trust anyone either but a girl has needs.”

Eli shrugs a little, “Being exploited for money, having people say they’re pregnant with my baby, or having articles written about me isn’t worth it.”

Faye hums softly and nods her head, “Well..you can use me to fulfill your needs tonight.”

He looks at her lustfully and leans in to whisper in her ear, “I’m gonna make you come so hard and so much until you pass out in my bed..”

She smirks and slides her hand over her own thigh, “Whatever you want, Elijah.”

Eli makes a small noise as he watches her and he kisses below her ear and nips at her earlobe. The car parks at the back entrance of the hotel and he gets out and holds his hand out for her.

Faye takes his hand and slips out of the car.

He brings her into the hotel and into the service elevators and presses the button for the top floor before pulling her to him and kissing her deeply.

She makes a soft sound and leans up to kiss him just as deeply.

Eli holds her tight, his fingers curling into her hair as he kisses her eagerly.

Faye slides her hands over his chest as she kisses him harder.

He kisses her just as hard and reluctantly pulls back when the doors open.

She makes a soft sound as she follows him off the elevator.

Eli brings her into his suite and he looks at her heatedly, “Tell me something you really wanna do tonight..”

Faye walks around as she looks at the room with a hum before she turns to look at him, “Well I never thought I’d fuck you again so I don’t know. What have we never done?”

He watches her and hums, “Never done choking.. I’ve tied you up. But I can always tie you up and blindfold you at the same time.” He licks his lips, “There isn’t much we haven’t done.”

She nods and looks out the window that overlooks the city as she runs her fingers over her bare stomach, “Fuck me against the window.”

Eli growls lowly, “Fuck, I’d hope you say that.. my cock in your pussy or in your ass?”

Faye leans against the window as she smiles at him and slides her hand over her breast, “You’re in charge. You pick. I’m your little slut tonight..I’ll do whatever you want, sir.”

He groans and bites his lip, “Keep doing that.. I wanna see you make yourself all riled up.” He leans against the walls opposite of her and undoes the buckle on his pants.

She smirks and plays with her nipples through her shirt, “Take a video.”

Eli moans and grabs his phone and starts taking a video of her, “I’m gonna record us all night, baby.. so you can relive the moment I fucked your ass in front of all of New York City with my fingers buried in your pussy any time you want..”

Faye smirks at the camera as she tugs on her nipple before pulling her top down to release her breasts, “I’m gonna need prepping..I’m so tight now..”

He groans softly as he watches her and keeps the camera on her, “Don’t worry, I’ll get my good little slut nice and stretched and ready to take my big cock..”

She tugs on her nipples as she moans softly, “God..my nipples have been so hard since I saw you on stage.”

Eli moans as he watches her, “I love how sensitive they are.. I love seeing them through your top, just as much as I love being able to see the wet spot between your legs..”

Faye slides one hand down between her legs and smirks, “I’ve never been with a girl who gets as wet as I do. I must be extra horny.”

He unbuttons his pants as he watches her and growls, “Cause you’re a good little slut.. dirty fucking girl.. do you get this wet for all your partners?”

She nods her head as she rubs herself through her thin pants with a soft sound, “Always. I always need spare panties because I get wet so quickly. When I was young I thought something was wrong with me until I discovered masturbation.”

Eli groans softly, “If you didn’t need something to wear I’d have that outfit torn to pieces.”

Faye smirks and pulls her hand back to take off her top completely, tossing it towards him.

He chuckles and tosses it to the side and he moves his hand to grip himself through his boxers.

She watches his hand and smirks as she teases herself through her pants again, “Do you like how I dress now?”

Eli nods quickly as he groans, teasing his tip with his thumb, “I love how you dress.. you know exactly how to show off your sexy body.. make all the guys hard just looking at you and all the girls either wanna be you or be with you..”

Faye hums as he pushes her pants down her legs, “Have you stalked my Instagram pictures?”

His brows raise, “I’ve checked them out a few times.”

She leans back against the window as she rubs herself through her panties, “Hm..did you see when I used your lyrics as a caption?”

Eli groans softly, “Yes..”

Faye smirks and tugs on her nipple as she watches him, “I had watched a video of you performing..naturally you got me wet just thinking about the sex we used to have.”

He tugs down his boxers and grips his length again, “did you fuck yourself?”

She hums softly and nods her head, “Eventually. I sat in my wet panties for a while and watched some of our old videos until I couldn’t take it and had to fuck myself.”

Eli strokes himself slowly, “Do you have a favorite one?”

Faye slides her fingers past her panties and teases her clit, “I love our first theeesome with that random girl. You taught me every I know about fucking women.”

He groans as he watches her, “Come show me how wet you are.”

She slides her panties down and rubs herself as she walks towards him before holding her fingers up, “I’m dripping.”

He moves the camera to film them both as he holds her wrist and eagerly sucks on her fingers.

Faye smirks and uses her free hand to rub her clit slowly.

Eli moans and moves the camera to show her fingers before he pulls back, “I love the sounds of your wet pussy.”

She smirks and brings her fingers up to her own mouth with a moan.

He records her and smirks, “Dirty girl.. I can probably prep your ass alone from how wet your pussy is.”

Faye whimpers and sucks in her fingers before pulling back, “I do enjoy lube though. Feels so sexy and dirty.”

Eli grins, “You’ll get plenty of lube.” He gently slaps her center, “go to the couch, put your ass up in the air so I can get you ready.”

She gasps and nods her head as she follows his instructions and leans over the couch with her ass up.

He goes to get lube from his bag and then kneels behind her. He grips her cheeks and flicks his tongue ring against her hole.

Faye moans as she grips the back of the couch.

Eli groans as he moves his tongue against her.

She whimpers and rocks her hips back.

He moans and works his tongue eagerly against her hole.

Faye spreads her legs slightly and moans his name.

Eli groans and pulls back to prop up his phone on the coffee table as it records and he puts lube on his fingers and on her hole, “rub your clit..”

She whimpers and nods her head as she rubs her clit.

He groans and slowly and gently pushes one finger into her hole, “Do you ever touch yourself here, Faye?”

Faye moans and looks over her stomach at him with a nod, “I have..it’s not as easy to reach.”

Eli groans softly as he slowly pumps his finger, “I’m gonna get you a plug.”

She nods as she whimpers his name.

He moans and adds more lube before thrusting his finger faster, “You’re such a dirty girl I bet you’d wear it in public..”

Faye grips the couch as she jerks her hips slightly, “I would..under a little skirt.”

Eli groans and moves his finger harder, “Such a good little slut.. get you vibrating panties to go with it.”

She cries out his name as she nods her head.

He adds more lube and nearly withdraws his finger before very slowly pushes two into her this time, “Keep rubbing that wet pussy, Faye..”

Faye rubs her clit roughly as she lets out another moan.

Eli carefully starts to pump his fingers, spreading them to stretch her.

She drops her head as she cries out, “Eli…”

He groans softly, “Is this okay?”

Faye nods her head as she rubs her clit quickly, “It hurts but..it’s good.”

Eli nods and moves his fingers slowly, “Tell me if it hurts or is too much..” he adds more lube.

She moans and nods her head, “I will, keep going. I like it..”

He nods and thrusts his fingers harder with a groan, “You are still the sexiest person I’ve ever seen.”

Faye arches her back and whines his name, “No way..”

Eli laughs breathlessly, “Faye, when I fantasize, it’s always you.” He picks up the pace of his fingers.

She grips the couch with one hand as she rubs her clit faster with a moan, “Eli..”

He groans and slows them down before adding more lube and pressing a third finger into her.

Faye whimpers his name as she leans her head back and cries out, “I’m close..”

Eli thrusts his fingers and groans, “Come, baby, you’ll be coming a lot tonight..”

She cries out loudly and rubs her clit faster as she hits her climax and her knees give out slightly.

His arm quickly wraps around her to keep her steady as he slows his fingers.

Faye moans as she drops her hand to hold his wrist, “Fuck..”

Eli slowly withdraws his fingers and kisses her shoulder.

She stands up and leans back against with a breathless laugh, “Fuck..”

He holds her tight and rubs her stomach.

Faye drops her hand and runs her fingers through her hair as she looks back at him, “What do you fantaszie about?”

Eli laughs shyly and kisses her jaw, “Maybe I shouldn’t have told you that.”

She laughs and tilts her head to the side, “Tell me.”

He chuckles and buries his face in her neck as he groans.

Faye shakes her head and laughs, “No, you cannot pull Shy Boy after the last couple hours.”

Eli laughs, “Okay, okay.”

She smirks and turns around to face, “Out with it.”

He grins and brushes his thumb over her dimple, “I fantasize about you.. in all kinds of ways.. I have dom fantasies about you. One where you have me tied up and gagged as you fuck yourself with different toys. One where you tie me up and edge me in a thousand different ways.. submissive ones too of course, one where you are wearing a collar and crawl to me.. one where we go to a sex party and you beg to be my sex toy, and as I’m fucking you you let strangers touch you too but they’re not allowed to be inside you..”

Faye widens her eyes slightly and swallows thickly, “Holy shit..you..I mean you weren’t kidding..”

Eli grins shyly and his cheeks heat up, “I have never trusted anyone in bed the way that I trust you.. wanting those things with you.. not only are they hot as fuck but I know I’d be safe to do them with you. You being the sexiest person I know is just the cherry on top.” His hand slowly slides down her cheek and neck to her chest.

She hums softly and presses herself closer to him, “I’ve never trusted anyone like that either. It’s probably because we were so young.”

He shakes his head and holds her close to him before kissing her deeply.

Faye slides her hands over his back and kisses him just as deeply.

Eli kisses her harder and moves his fingers to tease her hole.

She whimpers against his lips and digs her nails into his back.

He blindly grabs the lube and starts to walk them towards the window and he speaks between kisses, “Let’s make a deal..”

Faye returns the kiss and hums softly as she walks with him, “What is it?”

He turns her around to face the window and speaks into her ear, “tonight, I get to do whatever I want to you.. then you come to Boston, get everything you need for your story, and at night.. you get to do anything you want to me..” he nips at her neck.

She whimpers as she presses her chest against the window, “Eli..I can’t make promises right now. I can’t even think straight.”

Eli groans and puts lube on his length and presses his tip to her hole holding himself at the base, “Say yes..”

Faye moans as she leans her head back, “Come on..”

He reaches around with his freehand and ghosts his fingers over her center as he slowly starts to push into her, “say yes..”

She closes her eyes as she whimpers his name, “Fine..please Eli..”

Eli groans and rubs her center as he pushes into her more, “fuuuck..”

Faye cries out softly and presses her chest against the window.

He groans and kisses all over her shoulder and stills his hips so she can adjust so far, and he keeps rubbing her clit.

She whimpers and squeezes her eyes shut, “Fuck..”

Eli makes a small noise, “are you okay?”

Faye nods as she presses her hands against the window, “Just give me a minute..”

He kisses her skin and rubs her clit slow and hard, keeping his hips still.

She drops her head down as she whimpers softly.

Eli rubs her back with his freehand, “should I pull out?”

Faye shakes her head and shifts her legs apart more, “No..it’s okay, keep going.”

He rubs her clit faster and adds more lube before pushing into her more with a groan.

She moans as her hips twitch towards his hand.

Eli moans and reaches around to tease her entrance with the fingers of his other hand.

Faye whimpers and looks out the window, “Fuck..do you think anyone can see in here?”

He groans and sinks his fingers into her, “I hope they can.. and they can get off on how you’re a good little slut getting your holes filled..”

She moans out his name and rocks into his fingers which causes his length to push deeper, “Fuck!” Faye drops her head against the window as she whimpers and speaks quickly, “It’s okay I like the pain!”

Eli moans and grits his teeth and he adds more lube, “If it hurts too much, tell me to stop, promise?”

Faye nods as she keeps her hips still, “I’ll be fine, keep going.”

He pushes his length deeper into her with a low groan as and slowly thrusts his fingers.

Faye cries out in half pleasure and half pain as she leans her head back.

Eli pushes into her all the way and stills his hips as he moans and thrusts his fingers eagerly.

She drags her hands down the window as she moans louder, “Holy fuck..I forgot what this felt like..”

He groans and adds a third finger as he thrusts them, “I’ll never fucking forget.. not when I fucked you in the ass by myself.. not when I shared you with Tyler.. and not when I was in your pussy with Carson in your ass.. you’re so.. fucking.. tight..” he speaks through gritted teeth and draws his hips back.

Faye whimpers his name and looks over her shoulder at him, “Have you fucked many other girls like this?”

Eli shakes his head, “Just you and the girl from the party.”

She moans softly and nods, “Fuck I wish I could’ve seen that..”

He pushes his hips into hers again with a groan, “Me too.. you would’ve been the wettest you’ve ever been..”

Faye cries out softly and shakes her head, “It’ll take a lot to beat tonight.”

Eli groans and starts to slowly thrust his hips, moving his fingers at the opposite rhythm.

She leans her forehead against the window and moans his name.

He moans loudly and picks up the pace of his hips, “I cannot believe you feel so fucking good..”

Faye whines loudly and looks over her shoulder at him, “You’ve been dreaming about my tight ass for years, huh?”

Eli groans and slams his hips into hers, “Yes..”

Faye moans louder as she smirks against the window.

He moans and thrusts his hips eagerly as his fingers curl inside her.

She cries out as she feels her body tense, “Fuck! I’m gonna come all over..”

Eli groans and keeps pumping his hips, “Come, Faye..”

Faye screams his name and lightly hits the window with her palm as her body freezes and she squirts over his fingers and the window.

He quickly withdraws his fingers and roughly rubs her clit as he thrusts his hips with a loud groan, “Again..”

Her hips writhe as she cries out his name and climaxes again while her arms give out against the window, “Fuck!”

His one arm wraps around her waist to keep her steady and he moans louder as he thrusts into her eagerly, his hand gently slapping her pussy a few times, “I know you’re not done squirting for me..”

Faye shakes her head as her body convulses slightly, “Eli! Fuck! I can’t…”

Eli slams his hips into hers and lets out a string of groans as his hand keeps tapping against her center, “Squirt for me..”

She screams out his name as she climaxes again and squirts harder.

He thrusts into her hard as he climaxes and releases inside of her with a cry of her name, his arm holding onto her tighter.

Faye lets out a series of moans as she slides her hands down the window and closes her eyes.

Eli groans and presses his forehead to her shoulder, “Good fucking girl..”

She whines softly as she moves her hands to cover her face and mumbles to herself, “Fuck..”

He rubs her stomach and looks over her shoulder to see the mess she made and smirks, “Holy shit.. that is so hot..”

Faye pants softly as she drops her hands and nods in agreement.

Eli slowly pulls out of her and groans, and he picks up his phone to record her ass and between her legs and then her mess.

She whimpers and slowly stands up straight.

He stops the recording and scoops her up in his arms, carrying her over to the bedroom.

Faye makes a soft sound in surprise and leans into him.

Eli lays her down in bed and slides his hand along her collarbone, “Can I get you water?”

She nods her head as she shifts to get comfortable, “Yeah, that’d be nice.”

He nods and leans down to kiss her softly as he pulls a blanket over her and tucks her into it.

Faye laughs softly and closes her eyes.

Eli strokes her cheek and then gets up to get her a glass of water.

She peeks an eye open when he leaves and slips out of the bed with a soft groan as she walks slowly into the bathroom.

He comes back with the water and sets it on the nightstand and he bites his lip as he sees she’s not in there.

Faye uses the restroom and looks in the mirror as she whispers to herself and shakes her hands, “Okay, okay, okay..its okay.” She sighs and splashes her face with her water before coming out of the bathroom, “Hey, sorry.”

Eli’s brows furrow and he frowns, “I pushed you too far..”

She raises her brows and shakes her head as she walks slowly back to the bed, “I’m okay, I just needed to pee.”

He watches her and bites down on his lip, “No, I did something..”

Faye shakes her head and sits down on the bed, “You didn’t do anything. My body just needs a minute to calm down from being fucked so hard.”

Eli sits beside her, “Which is why I wanted to do aftercare..”

She nods as she takes a sip of the water before laying back, “Thank you for the water. I just had to pee.”

He nods a little and lays beside her, stroking his fingertips up and down her stomach.

Faye hums softly and closes her eyes, “That was amazing, Eli. I mean it.”

Eli smiles and continues to gently stroke her skin, “It was for me too. You’re still the best I’ve ever had..”

She smiles softly and shakes her head as she keeps her eyes closed, “Don’t say things like that, Eli.”

He laughs and nudges his nose against her temple. He bites his lip and gently rolls her onto her side and he curls around her back.

Faye raises her brows and glances over her shoulder at him.

Eli bites his lip, “I don’t know how to do after care without holding you.. so I’m doing my best.”

She laughs softly and nods her head, “It’s fine.”

He presses soft kisses along her back and slides his hand along her arm.

Faye closes her eyes again and quietly sucks in a breath.

Eli kisses to her neck and rubs her arm.

Faye tilts her head to the side as she hums, “Who was the last person you were with?”

His brows raise at her question and laughs, “An actor named Richard that I dated for a couple of weeks, but he dumped me and went for a younger twink when I wouldn’t bottom for him.”

She nods her head and laughs softly, “How long ago was that?”

Eli raises his brows as he thinks, “Nine months ago?”

Faye hums softly with a nod, “Just curious.”

He grins, “cause you’re impressed I didn’t come in six seconds?”

She laughs and shakes her head, “I’m just making conversation.”

Eli chuckles softly, “What else do you wanna know?”

Faye hums softly and shrugs one shoulder, “Where is the craziest place besides the sex party you’ve had sex?”

He laughs softly, “Plane.”

She raises her brows and laughs, “When?”

Eli smirks, “about a year ago? It was a flight attendant too. My first time in first class and she spilled my drink on my lap and was very hands on with helping clean me up. I felt like I was a porn star or something.”

Faye laughs and shakes her head, “That sounds amazing. Mine was probably with that couple I mentioned..they took me out to dinner and had me crawl under the table cloth to eat out his girlfriend at a busy Italian restaurant.”

He groans softly, “Jesus..”

She laughs and shrugs one shoulder.

Eli laughs, “Did you get caught?”

Faye shakes her head and laughs, “No, thankfully people are used to couples making out in public so he kept her quiet.”

He presses his forehead to the crook of her neck, “what about you? Did you get to come?”

She nods with a laugh, “Yeah after dinner, we went back to their place. I hooked up with them a few times but I think they wanted me to join in a throuple. I was not interested in that.”

Eli kisses her skin softly and hums, “How were the threesomes compared to ours?”

Faye hums with a shrug, “Different. I wasn’t the one in the relationship, you know?”

He nods a little, “Yeah..” He leans his chin on her shoulder, “You rub your pussy against hers?”

She nods with a smirk as glances at him, “I did. I don’t usually come from it but it turns me on.”

Eli groans and closes his eyes, “Fuck I wish I saw that..”

Faye hums softly and laughs, “Another fantasy to add to the list?”

He laughs and nods, “Definitely.”

She smirks and shakes her head, “You’ve seen it though.”

Eli nips at her skin, “I know, but it’s been years since I’ve seen it in person. The video is still sexy though.”

Faye tilts her head to the side and laughs, “Too bad we never filmed any videos with Carson and Sylvia. I doubt they would be down for it that though.”

He laughs, “She was very shy. Remember when I taught her how to eat your pussy?”

She smirks and nods her head, “Oh yeah. The shyness is very hot. Have you ever hooked up with them on your own?”

Eli hums, “I’ve thought about asking but you were kinda crucial to making it work.”

Faye nods her head and shrugs one shoulder, “Yeah, makes sense since Carson doesn’t partake with you.”

He nods and chuckles, “Exactly, and I didn’t wanna make things awkward by asking to suck his dick.”

She laughs and shakes her head, “It was nice of them to come.”

Eli smiles, “It was.” He grins and teases with a laugh, “Hey, we should’ve asked them to have sex with us.”

Faye laughs and gently elbows him, “I wasn’t planning to have sex with you.”

He chuckles and kisses her neck, “I know.”

She smiles softly and shakes her head, “What’s next?”

Eli grins, “Next as in?”

Faye rolls over to face him and hums, “You wanted to fuck me until I passed out I believe. Here I am..awake.”

He grins widely at her, “You’re right.” He gets up and grabs a couple of ties from his bag.

She watches him and raises her brows.

Eli looks at her, “No?”

Faye lifts her arms and nods her head.

He comes over and ties her wrists to the headboard, “how’s that feel?”

She tugs gently and nods her her head, “Perfect.”

Eli smiles, “blindfold is okay too?”

Faye smirks with a nod, “Yeah, of course.”

He grins, “lift your head for me, please.”

She lifts her head and closes her eyes.

Eli ties the other tie around her eyes as a blindfold. “How’s this one?”

Faye nods as she lays back on the pillows, “Good.”

He smirks, “Okay. Be right back.”

She raises her brows and opens her mouth in surprise.

Eli laughs, “What?”

Faye shifts slightly and pouts, “Where are you going?”

He kisses her pout, “I’m getting us something, it’ll be just a second.” He brushes his thumb over her nipple.

She nods her head as she whimpers softly, “Okay..I thought you were gonna leave me here for a while.”

Eli chuckles, “God no. It’s killing me to even leave you like this for a minute.” He toys with her other nipple.

Faye lifts her chest towards his touch and whimpers.

He groans and drops his hand, “one minute, less than.” He kisses her deeply for a moment before putting on a pair of sweats and running to fill the ice bucket with ice.

She nods her head as she returns the kiss before relaxing against the bed.

Eli quickly gets ice in the bucket before coming back into the room and he comes over, “I hope that wasn’t too long.”

Faye shakes her head and laughs, “I’ve had longer.”

His brows raise and he bites his lip, “I’d never be able to resist you for that long.” He circles her nipple with his fingertip before picks up an ice cube and retraced the same path with it.

She gasps as she jumps at the coldness, “Fuck..”

Eli grins widely and then glides the ice cube to her other nipple, teasing it with it.

Faye whimpers in surprise as she grips the ties gently.

He pulls back the ice cube and sucks on her nipple with a groan.

She moans and arches her back to him.

Eli plays with her other nipple with the ice as his tongue ring teases the one in his mouth.

Faye whimpers as leans her head back.

He pulls the ice away and takes her other breast into his mouth with a moan.

She moans his name and tugs on the ties.

Eli slowly trails the ice cube down her stomach and circles it around her belly button.

Faye gasps as her stomach tenses at the coldness.

He traces the path with his mouth and slides the ice cube lower towards her center before sliding it down to her inner thigh.

She spreads her legs apart for him and whimpers, “Eli..”

Eli slowly brings the ice cube closer to her slit without touching her quite yet as his tongue moves along her skin and he settles between her legs.

Faye moves her leg over his shoulder blindly as she whines softly.

He hums softly as he licks the skin around her lips without touching them.

She whimpers and shifts anxiously.

Eli looks up at her and grabs a new ice cube before touching it to her clit.

Faye gasps and arches her back slightly.

He teases her clit with the ice cube and then glides it up and down her slit.

She shivers and grips the ties as she moans his name.

Eli smirks and tosses the ice cube away before hooking his arms around her thighs and slowly teasing her center with the tip of his tongue.

Faye moans and leans her head back, “Fuck..”

He hums and moves his tongue ring against her clit as he squeezes her thighs.

She cries out softly and rocks her hips, “I fucking love that tongue ring..”

Eli groans against her and flicks it against her clit eagerly.

Faye lifts her hips to meet his tongue as she moans his name.

He moans and then sucks on her clit eagerly.

She digs her heel into his shoulder as she cries out.

Eli groans and reaches up to grip her breasts as he alternates between using his tongue ring on her clit and sucking on it.

Faye cries out his name as she arches her back into his touch.

He tugs at her nipples and growls against her as he laps his tongue up and down her center eagerly.

She rolls her hips to meet his mouth and cries out, “Don’t fucking stop..”

Eli groans and continues his movements as he plays with her nipples.

Faye feels her body tense up as she shouts his name and hits her climax.

He moans loudly against her and squeezes her breasts as he slows his tongue.

Faye moans as her hips writhe under his tongue.

Eli groans and pulls back before heatedly kissing up her body.

She leans her head back as she whimpers softly.

He grazes his lips over hers and smirks. “wanna taste, dirty girl?”

Faye hums softly as she flicks her tongue out to taste his lips.

Eli groans and kisses her deeply, moving his tongue over hers

She makes a soft sound and returns the kiss.

He moans and massages her tongue with his.

Faye hums and gently sucks on his tongue.

Eli groans into her mouth.

She lifts her chest to press against his with a soft moan.

He groans and slowly pulls back, taking her blindfold off.

Faye blinks a few times and looks up at him with a soft smile.

Eli grins and kisses her softly.

She laughs and returns the kiss before pulling back slightly.

He laughs, “Need a break?”

Faye shakes her head and smirks, “No.”

Eli chuckles and slides his hand down to her neck.

She wraps her legs around his waist and pulls him closer.

He gently squeezes the sides of her neck, “Do you want your arms still tied up?”

Faye nods her head as she smirks, “Yes.”

Eli smirks and shifts to grind his length against her center, “Good.”

She whimpers softly and lifts her hips to his.

He grinds against her and kisses her ear as he squeezes her neck.

Faye moans softly and lifts her chin, “You gonna choke me, Eli Hudson? Show me how strong you are.”

Eli groans and nods his head, “You like that, don’t you?” He squeezes her neck.

She makes a soft sound and nods her head, “I do..makes me feel helpless and needy.”

He drags his nose along her jaw, “Beg for my cock..”

Faye closes her eyes as she tightens her legs around him, “I want to feel you inside me again, Eli..please fuck me hard with your big cock, choke me and fuck me into oblivion. Please…”

Eli groans and thrusts into her hard, squeezing the sides of her neck more.

She weakly cries out as she rocks her hips to meet his.

He pulls out nearly all the way before slamming back into her with a grunt.

Faye gasps and grips the ties as she cries out, “Fuck!”

Eli groans and squeezes her neck as he pounds into her.

She lets out a soft squeak as she closes her eyes.

He lets go of her neck and groans, “Take a deep breath, baby..”

Faye shakes her head as she breathes heavily, “I’m fine.”

Eli smirks, “I didn’t ask, take a deep breath.”

She nods and takes a deep breath.

He covers her mouth and nose with his hand and thrusts into her harder with a moan.

Faye makes a soft sound against his hand as she grips her ties.

Eli groans and uses his freehand to play with her nipples as he moves his hips faster.

She cries out softly against his hand and rocks her hips to meet his.

He moans and presses down harder to cut off her air more and he groans, “you like that?”

Faye whimpers and looks up at him with a nod.

Eli moans and thrusts harder, “kick me if you need me to stop.” He groans and looks down at her body as he moves in and out of her before slapping his hand against her breast gently.

She nods as she moans weakly and closes her eyes.

He groans and slaps his hand against her other breast a little harder, and he pushes into her deeper.

Faye cries out and grips her ties.

Eli groans and kneels up slightly, slapping his hand against her clit.

She gasps as she widens her eyes up at him.

He gently strokes her clit with his thumb, and thrusts harder before leaning down and pressing his lips to the side of her breasts, sucking on her skin hard to leave a mark.

Faye moans as she kicks his back slightly, “Don’t…”

Eli pulls back and fights a sigh.

She looks up at him and tightens her legs around him.

He reaches up and unties her wrists.

Faye raises her brows at him, “What are you doing?”

Eli arches a brow, “Untying you.”

She shakes out her wrists and nods her head, “So soon, you haven’t even come.”

He nods, “I know. But I want you clawing at whatever’s in reach right now.” He grips her neck again, “Do you like me slapping your tits?”

Faye nods her head as she rocks her hips to try and get him to move, “I did..I miss having my ring sometimes I love how sensitive they were.”

Eli smacks his hand against her breast and thrusts into her hard with a grunt, “Me too.”

She cries out and leans her head back, “Choke me, Elijah..”

He groans and squeezes her neck tighter and thrusts his hips roughly into hers.

Faye lets out a strangled sound as she grips the bedding.

Eli lets out a string of moans and he grips her hip tight as he repeatedly pounds his hips into hers, his fingers still wrapped around her throat.

She cries out weakly as she tries to move her hips with his, “I’m..close..”

His fingers dig hard into her hip and he groans as he thrusts, “Come..”

Faye grips the sheets as she lets out a suppressed cry and squirts as she climaxes.

Eli groans loudly and drops his hand from her neck and he grips her breast tight with that hand and keeps slamming into her.

She cries out as she moves one hand to drag her nails over his back, “Eli!”

He moans louder, “Fuck, yes..” His hips get tougher as he gets closer to his climax.

Faye digs her nails into his back roughly as her hips start to shake, “Fuck!”

Eli groans and then shouts her name as he hits his climax and slams deep inside of her.

She squirts again as she cries out and climaxes with him.

He groans loudly as he feels her and he moves his arms to hold himself up so not all his weight is on her as he collapses, his face burying into her neck.

Faye whines softly as she leans her head back and speaks breathlessly, “You can lay all the way on top of me.”

Eli lays on top of her and tries to catch his breath.

She hesitantly put her hand on the back of his head as she closes her eyes.

He relaxes more as he feels her hand on him and he catches his breath.

Faye slides her fingers through his hair as she takes a deep breath.

Eli keeps his lips and hands to himself cause he knows once he touches her she’ll stop touching him.

She slides her hand over the back of his neck and looks up at him.

He lifts his head slightly and grins down at her, “how awake are you?”

Faye laughs softly breathlessly and shakes her head, “I can’t sleep with you touching me.”

Eli can’t help but wince at that and he slowly pulls out of her with a hiss before moving to lay away from her in bed.

She turns into her side facing him with a soft sigh, “I’m sorry. I just don’t like to be touched when I sleep anymore.”

He pulls the blankets over them and asks quietly, “When did that change?”

Faye shrugs one shoulder as she fluffs her pillow to distract herself, “I don’t really know, I guess the guy I saw after we..you know broke up. I would wake up and get physically sick so I don’t let anyone close when I’m asleep.”

Eli bites his lip, “Did he hurt you?”

She shakes her head and hugs her pillow, “No. He was rough with sex but he..no it wasn’t that.”

He looks at her and hugs his pillow before looking away because he can’t bring himself to state the obvious that it’s because of himself, “What about dogs?”

Faye hums softly and shrugs one shoulder, “I guess I haven’t tried a dog or pet.”

Eli smiles, “Well.. I’m having Goldie brought on tour since Miska has someone to take care of him when Gabe’s busy.”

She raises her eyebrows and smiles, “Oh that’ll be nice for you to have her.”

He nods and smiles. “It will.”

Faye taps her fingers against her pillow and hums softly, “Eli?”

His brows raise, “Yeah?”

She sighs softly and looks at him, “You know this is just sex right? I’m..this isn’t going to go any farther.”

Eli raises his brows, “I wasn’t thinking that. But thanks for clarifying.”

Faye nods her head and closes her eyes, “I just wanted to make sure you didn’t get the wrong idea about me.”

He shakes his head, “I don’t want anything like that anyways. I wanted to hook up again, but that’s it.”

She hums softly as she whispers, “Okay. I just didn’t want the past to be brought up. It’s already hard enough with the music having to relive some of that.”

Eli frowns slightly, “I’m sorry..”

Faye waves her hand and keeps her eyes closed, “Stop apologizing. It’s okay, I just don’t want either of us to confuse this for anything other than hooking up.”

He frowns more. “I don’t know how to not apologize when you’re telling me that I’m hurting you.”

She opens her eyes and shakes her head, “Because you don’t have to worry about me. I’m a big girl. Besides it’s not that I’m hurting, it’s just a lot to hear your side but you can express yourself, Eli.”

Eli goes to say something but stops himself then half smiles, “trust me, my therapist has told me that more times than I can count.”

Faye gives him a small smile and nods her head, “Well it led to great music.”

Eli runs his fingertip over her fingernail, “I’m not a reliable narrator. I put my emotions out there, especially for the sake of my art. I don’t.. I don’t think back on what we had and see you as anything negative. Not everything in the music is true, it was just a way to let things out. Do you wanna know what song is about you from start to end, no embellishment? It’s not on the album. It’s just for me. Cause the music I put out, only part of it is for me which is why none of those songs are totally about you.. We had a rough break up, but it’s been years, and you were the first person to see me and love me for exactly who I am. That’s all that matters. That’s why I wanna be friends.”

Faye raises her brows at him and nods her head a little a little speechless, “Okay..”

He pulls his finger back and nods, “Thank you.”

She reaches over and brushes her fingers over his wrist, “No..thank you for explaining for me.”

Eli nods slightly and gets goosebumps from her touch, “you’re welcome..”

Faye lets her touch linger before pulling back and closing her eyes.

He watches her for a moment before shutting his eyes.

She relaxes against the bed and sighs softly.

Eli listens to her breathing as he gets tired.

Faye keeps her breathing steady as she pretends to fall asleep.

He continues to listen to her, keeping his hands to himself.

She keeps pretending she is asleep for a while and peeks one eye to see if Eli is asleep.

Eli is still awake because he hasn’t heard any of her sleeping sounds and he refuses to sleep if she’s not.

Faye shifts and rolls to face the other direction when she notices he still isn’t asleep.

He keeps his eyes closed and tries to fight to stay up.

She starts to actually fall asleep and pinches her arm to stay up.

Eli dozes a little and snores softly.

Faye hears his snore and peeks over her shoulder before very slowly slipping out of the bed and out of the bedroom to grab her clothes.

When Eli feels the bed shift he opens his eyes. He gets out of bed and follows her to the other room, he folds his arms over his chest and leans against the door jamb.

She pulls on her pants and turns to look for her shirt before she spots him and jumps, “Jesus Eli..you scared me.”

He slowly starts to stalk over to her with his eyes narrowed, “You have two options. Either you get your ass back in that bed right now and this time I mean it literally when I say I’ll fuck you so hard you’ll pass out or you toughen up and say goodbye to my face.”

Faye widens her eyes slightly and shakes her head, “Eli..”

Eli stands so close their bodies are nearly touching as he looks down at her.

She opens her mouth then closes it slowly and flicks her tongue over her lower lip before she shakes her head, “Why does it matter if I leave?”

He narrows his eyes at her more, “I’m not a one night stand you can just fuck and ditch. So pick.”

Faye swallows and leans back slightly, “I couldn’t sleep. I was going back to my hotel.”

Eli ducks his head down so their lips are close, “Bull shit. Pick. One.”

She stares at him for a moment then down at his lips as she whispers shakily, “Goodnight, Eli..”

He watches her stare at his mouth and he nearly growls, “Wrong answer.” He holds onto the back of her neck as he crashes his lips to hers.

Faye gasps against his lips and kisses him back hard.

Eli kisses her feverishly and slides his hands down to her bottom and he squeezes it tight.

She slides her hands over his shoulders and kisses him harder.

He lifts her up so her legs are around his waist and he kisses her just as hard.

Faye moans and slides her fingers through his hair as she breaks the kiss, “Eli..I’m sorry, I didn’t..”

Eli spanks her hard and growls, “your pussy or your ass?”

She jumps and tightens her legs around him, “Pussy..”

He carries her over to the window and presses her back against it, and he teases her entrance with his tip.

Faye moans as she shakes her head, “I thought you said the bed..”

Eli nips at her jaw, “We’ll get there..” He taps his length against her center so his piercing moves against her clit.

She leans her head back and moans his name.

He groans and keeps rubbing it against her.

She digs her nails into his shoulder and cries out.

Eli moans and brings his tip to her entrance before thrusting into her hard.

Faye cries out louder and closes her eyes, “Eli!”

He moans her name and moves in and out of her hard.

She grips his shoulder as she moans his name.

Eli groans and watches her face, “You take my cock so good..”

Faye leans her head against the window as she moans louder, “Fuck..your piercing..”

He moans and moves faster, “is it hitting just the right spot?”

She nods with a whine as she leans her forehead against his but keeps her eyes closed, “Yes..”

Eli groans and pushes into her deeper, “Is this the biggest cock you’ve ever had?”

Faye grips his hair and cries out, “Yes..fuck yes..”

He moans and thrusts faster, “such a good, dirty girl..”

She tightens her legs as she drops her head against the window with a moan, “You taught me how to be..”

Eli groans louder and kisses her neck heatedly.

Faye whines and tilts her head to the side.

He sucks on her skin and moans as he grinds up against her.

She tugs on his hair as she cries out his name.

Eli groans loudly against her neck and keeps grinding his hips, “Your pussy is gripping my cock so tight..”

Faye moans as she drops her head against his shoulder, “I need to come..”

He moans into her neck and pushes into her deeper, “Come for me, Faye..”

She cries out and hits her climax as she squirts again with her hips shaking.

Eli groans loudly and holds back his climax.

Faye whimpers against his neck as she drops her hands to his shoulder.

He moans and pulls her away from the window, rubbing her back, “Good girl.. you came so hard.. squirted all over my cock..”

She continues to shake as she grips his shoulders, “I can’t believe I keep squirting..fuck..”

Eli keeps rubbing her back and he kisses her shoulder, “This the most you’ve ever squirted in one night?”

Faye nods her head as she pulls back from his shoulder, “Yeah..fuck..I’m a mess right now.”

He grins, “you’re gonna be a puddle in a minute.” He carries her into the bedroom with his length still inside her and groans, “Still want it in your pussy?”

She whimpers softly and shakes her head, “Put me on my hands and knees and fuck my ass like a bad girl. I want it to hurt so good.”

Eli groans loudly, “you read my mind.” He grabs the lube on the way and he pulls out of her before putting her on her hands and knees on the bed.

Faye makes a soft sound as she shifts her knees farther apart for him.

He groans as he watches her and he rubs her bottom before spanking her.

She leans forward and moans, “Again?”

Eli smirks, “Harder?”

Faye nods as she rocks her hips back.

He rubs her other cheek, “Rank where you like to be spanked the most.” He spanks her harder.

She cries out and clenches her backside, “My ass is number one.”

Eli groans and rubs the handprint mark.

Faye makes a soft sound as she leans back, “Then my pussy and my clit.”

He spanks her center and then her clit.

She cries out as her hips shake, “Eli..”

Eli groans and spanks her ass even harder.

Faye grips the bedding as she shouts his name, “Eli! Yes..”

He groans and puts lube on her hole and uses his fingers to work it inside her.

She leans her head back as she moans softly.

Eli moans and spanks her in a different spot just as hard.

Faye cries out his name as she leans her hips back, “It’s so good..”

He groans, “Do you need more prep or do you want me?”

She looks back at him and shakes her head, “Just fuck me, I don’t care if it hurts.”

Eli groans and puts lube on his length as he withdraws his fingers. He presses his tip to her hole, “One hand on the headboard.”

Faye grips the headboard and whimpers as she looks over her shoulder at him.

He pushes into her hard with a loud groan.

She cries out as she drops her head, “Fuck!”

Eli spanks her even harder than before with a moan.

Faye grips the headboard and shouts his name as she pulls her hips back.

He grabs her hips pulls them back against his with a loud groan.

She moans as she digs her nails into the headboard.

Eli holds her hips move to them with his thrusts and he groans loudly.

Faye cries out louder as she looks over her shoulder ar him.

He lets out a series of moans, “Fuck, yes, Faye..”

She moans his name and as she rocks her hips with his.

Eli groans and spanks her hard again, his other hand moving to hold her hair tight.

Faye leans her head back as she cries out louder, “Eli…”

He moans and tugs on her hair, “Harder?”

She grips the headboard and nods her head, “Yes!”

Eli groans and tugs on her hair harder while thrusting his hips deeper, his other hand spanking her ass with more force.

Faye cries out in both pain and pleasure as she squeezes her eyes shut.

He moans louder, “Put your fingers in your pussy..”

She nods and moves her free hand to push her fingers past her entrance as she moans louder.

Eli groans loudly and pulls her hips back into his as he pounds into her.

Faye tries to keep moving her fingers quickly as she cries out his name and her hips shake.

He spanks her other cheek just as hard as the other and lets out a string of grunts.

She feels her body starts to convulse as she pumps her fingers, “Eli..Eli…”

Eli groans loudly, “Come for me one more time, Faye..”

Faye screams his name as she drops to the bed and hits her orgasm roughly, squirting over her fingers.

He shouts her name as he climaxes and pulls out to release onto her ass.

She cries out as she collapses on the bed, mumbling his name a few times.

Eli kisses along her neck and shoulder before collapsing on his back beside her as he pants heavily.

Faye whimpers as she closes her eyes and grips the sheets, “Fuck..”

He slides his hand along her back and kisses her shoulder.

She pants softly as she shakes her head, “I’ll stay..”

Eli chuckles, “I know you will.” He gets up and goes to get a warm, wet towel and he comes over to clean her up.

Faye sighs softly and looks over her shoulder at him, “Thank you..”

Eli kisses her quickly, “you’re welcome.” He moves the blankets over her and tucks her in.

She closes her eyes and shifts to hold the pillow, “Fuck..I got it all wet..”

His brows raise, “Let me get you a new blanket.”

Faye nods her head and shifts onto her back, “Sorry..”

Eli gently holds her chin, “Faye.. don’t ever apologize. I would rather sleep on a soaking wet bed if it means I got you to come that hard than ever hear you say sorry for it again.”

She nods as she gives him a small smile, “Okay, sir.”

He laughs and brushes his thumb over her lower lip and he grabs the extra blankets from the closet. He takes the old ones off and quickly places the new on top of Faye, tucking her in again.

Faye relaxes against the bed and turns on her side.

Eli gets into the bed and curls up under the blankets.

She looks over at him and reaches out to brush her thumb over his jaw.

He smiles at her touch and closes his eyes.

Faye smiles softly against her pillow and slides her hand down to his, squeezing it gently.

Eli hums softly and squeezes her hand back.

She closes her eyes as she starts to drift off to sleep and lets her hand settle against his.

He keeps her hand in his and speaks tiredly, “Goodnight, Faye.. I’ll see you later..” he breathes out before drifting off to sleep.

Faye nods sleepily as she makes soft sound in response before she falls asleep.

[blackpinkreign]

Next song Rosie covers on instagram should be Slow dancing in the dark by Joji 🤷‍♀️

[burnedbyshoto]

the bodyguard

— Kirishima gets assigned to be the bodyguard to one of the worlds greatest idols: you. —

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pairing: bodyguard!kirishima eijirou x idol!reader

warnings: nsfw, 18+, brat taming, authority kink, spanking, blowjob, slapping, choking, brat taming, brat!reader, modern!au, no quirks, bodyguard!kirishima, idol!reader, PTSD portrayal, anxiety, war flashbacks, implied minor character death, drugging, alcohol consumption, size difference: kirishima is 2 feet taller than you, regardless of the reader’s original height. If you’re 6 ft congrats he’s 8 ft.

word count: 20,500

a/n: this is for the bnharem collab.... im so sorry, it’s 4:30 am and I have a plane to catch in 2 hours to get back to school. thank you jo for proofreading this for me because lol I am a mess. if the paragraph spacing did not work as I wish it does, please let me know so I can go in and edit in visible paragraph spacers!

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“I’ll be okay.”

The smell of dirt, sweat, and blood clung to the air.

The sun was setting, its blood-red shine illuminating against the destroyed earth, making the already bloodied soil even bloodier. 

There was no telling if the land was quiet, if the reason why the world's silence was because the world just for this moment had gone silent, or if the earlier explosions were still ringing in his ears.

Kirishima sat wounded, his back pressed to the wall, his eyes wide, breathing erratic. He can’t move, can’t bother picking up the gun that lays abandoned by his knee as warm, sticky liquid spills onto his clothed knees and continues to soak the fabric of his jeans.

What had he done?

What in the fucking world had he done?!

BOOM!

Kirishima stills, his eyes stilling on the floor and looking at the clear moisture. He doesn’t need to touch his face to know it’s a combination of both sweat and tears. 

His ears sing with white noise, the erratic beat of his heart, and his pained breathing.

“I’ll be okay,” the ghost taunts his mind.

But I’m not okay, Kirishima tries to speak, but knows with how his tongue is sitting like a thick dried sponge in his mouth, he won’t be able to speak. Pushing off the cold floor, flops onto his back, his arm flinging over his closed, shaken eyes until the ringing in his ear disappears into his alarm clock. 

05:30.

Kirishima lays there for a bit more, his chest still heaving heavily with the weight of lead.

Inhale.

Hold.

Exhale.

Better?

No, not yet.

Kirishima runs through breathing exercises, his chest never stopping in it’s hiccuped, broken pants as his memories continue to haunt his mind. If only he was smarter, more observant, better.

“Time to get up, time to get up, time to get up,” his phone screams with his second alarm set at 06:45. The sound does what it’s intended, jolting Kirishima out of his own head. His labored breathing shallowing just enough for his lungs to finally grasp ahold of its required function.

Today was an important day for him; he needed to be on his tiptop game, according to what Toshinori said yesterday.

I’m okay, he convinced himself as he does every morning after having this dream. Kirishima flings his arm off his eyes, the morning purple sun shining softly through his blinds. I’m okay.

Date: 4/2 Time: 08:00 Location: UA Services

“And in other news, music industries princess Y/n has been attacked by yet another round of masked perpetrators. Fortunately for the music idol, she was left unhurt but was clearly rattled. This is but the fourth attack on Y/n since three weeks ago. It’s leaving many of us fans, spectators, and civilians wondering just what is being done to ensure her safety? Y/n is reported to not have a single bodyguard to her name, wanting to quote-on-quote ‘experience her fans to the fullest’, but with these recent attacks, we can’t help but hope something is done. At least until something is done about these attackers—”

Kirishima’s eyes tore away from the screen, his lips pressed into a deep frown as he took in the story. There was deep worry about it, not only because he hated the idea of people getting hurt, but because he was a big fan of yours.

Your debut album had come out during his training camp for the military. Not only was it an instant billboard smasher breaking every standing record, but his commanding officers were obsessed with the album and played it continuously until they graduated. Most of Kirishima’s comrades came to dislike your music solely because they remember throwing up, bleeding, and suffering while you sang about love and whatnot, but Kirishima? Kirishima fell in love.

It was a bright spot in his life, and he was grateful for your music, even if it has been ten years and six albums since the training camp.

“Yo, Kiri!” a voice cheered out happily as a hand clasped onto his shoulder from behind. Kirishima held the flinch that threatened to rip through his bones. Kirishima turned to find Kaminari grinning up at him, a cup of steaming tea in one hand as he grinned brightly at his coworker. “I heard you’re finally getting a good case today!”

Kirishima found himself relaxing at the sight of his rather spontaneous friend, a warm smile easing onto his face as he raised his fist for a greeting fist bump.

“We’ll see, I know Toshi’ said it was going to be important, but he also said escorting the paranoid old lady was important,” Kirishima sighed, his smile softening a bit.

Kaminari laughed, his arm slinging around Kirishima’s shoulders as he remembered that.

The little old lady was sure that the government was out to kill her and wanted protection until her son returned from his vacation. Needless to say, Kirishima had thoroughly enjoyed his time with her, even if she was a bit scary. It was a low-risk job, and he only was paranoid by her cane, which she used to thwack his back many times as she talked about how plums extended your life.

“God, I remember subbing in for you for one hour because of your family emergency, and she was so scary! She still haunts my nightmares!” Kaminari shudders, placing the cup of his tea to his lip and taking a long, slow drink. His eyes shift over to the TV, which is still broadcasting the story of your attack. “What a bunch of bastards,” he growls, eyebrows scrunching as the news reporter ends the segment. “Thinking they can go after such a beautiful and talented idol… I’ll kill them.”

Kirishima was more than well aware of Kaminari’s plentiful budding romances. The blond man fell in love with just about any smiling woman who happened to waltz in front of him. Still, unlike most times, he found himself agreeing with him.

“It sounds really serious. I hope that she really considers some type of security team,” Kirishima inputs too, taking the teacup in his fingers with a nod of thanks. “There’re too many weirdos in Japan and in the world, I wouldn’t want to hear the news the day something bad happens.”

Kaminari hums, his face nearing Kirishima’s as he takes a small sip of the apparently black tea. His eyes scrunch, and Kirishima smiles awkwardly as the blond studies him intently.

“W-Wha—”

“You like Y/n!” Kaminari exclaims (accuses, maybe?), his arm leaving Kirishima’s shoulders as he points a finger accusingly at him. “I thought I was the only one in this department who did!”

“Don’t be an idiot, Denki,” the familiar voice of Sero responds for Kirishima. “Everyone in the world is in love with Y/n; she was voted the favorite artist of the year in our company. Everyone but Bakugou voted for her if I remember correctly.”

Kirishima looks over at his black-haired friend who is rummaging through his locker, his mouth curved into an easy, teasing smile as he looks between the bashful Kaminari and sneering Bakugou, who also seemed to just walk in.

“Her shit is basic and overrated,” Bakugou defended himself. “Nothing special and bad for your brain and ears.”

“Your go-to music playlist is fifty percent death metal and alt. rock. I don’t think you have ground to say that it’s bad for your brain and ears,” Midoriya’s snicker sounded from behind Kirishima, and he looked around to see the freckled man grinning at the snarling ash blond.

“And how does your stalker ass know that, shitnerd?!”

“‘Cause I’m a stalker, duh.”

“Oh, Bakugou-kun, Midoriya-kun! You’re both here! Todoroki-kun is looking for you!”

“I’m just saying that Y/n’s dates to all the award shows and premieres have been blond. She’s into blonds, so she would totally be into me!”

“Deku, if you don’t shut up, I’m going to kill you myself.”

“You wouldn’t even be able to protect Y/n, bro. The only thing you performed well on in the application process was the tasing part. You can’t even tase people repetitively! She’d be dead in a second.”

“Can you believe my client dropped me because I couldn’t cook a five-star meal correctly? Hello, I can make 7-11 into a five-star course; it’s not my fault they’re not refined.”

“Kirishima-kun, are you okay?”

“I deadass got into a dance competition on the way to work. That’s why I’m late, why would I lie? Of course, I had to compete; my reputation was on the line!”

“Kirishima-kun?”

“Yo, he’s not looking too hot?”

“Kirishima?!”

“Can you hear us?!”

Silence.

Kirishima found himself opening his eyes — when had he closed them? For a moment, the air turned coppery, his body feeling weak, and he thought he felt something heavy on his lap. But that wasn’t right; he was standing up, he wasn’t sitting down. Most importantly, he was in Tokyo, Japan. He was alright. He was safe.

The sweat that clung to the back of his neck was cold, clammy, and intrusive. His chest felt tight again, his hands shaking so harshly the tea's warm, dark liquid was sloshing onto the floor.

There were seven pairs of eyes on him, each a different color, each swimming with concern and other emotions. Kirishima knew his ears weren’t working right now, his face unable to meet his brain's screaming demands to smile, and he watched as their mouths moved as they questioned his sanity.

He was okay.

He was okay.

He was okay.

“Kirishima?”

Kirishima looked up, his neck craning to the side to see a tall, skinny man standing at the doorway. 

Toshinori Yagi was an esteemed bodyguard, one of the best in the industry, which was saying something considering that most bodyguards went unknown and unnamed. According to Google, Toshinori gained the nickname All Might after saving multiple political and celebrity lives when the government could not. It was long after his prime, and the man had retired but has since filled as the company’s head — thus why this job was near impossible to get.

Kirishima heaved a breath, realizing that he hadn’t taken a single breath when Toshinori’s bruised eyes narrowed in his concern.

“C-Coming,” Kirishima smiled, the blood rushing to his ears mostly ignorable now, but the scorching concerned gazes of his friends feel like cinders on his shoulder.

He straightens his tie, fingers curling when he feels the cold sweat penetrating through his clothes, but Kirishima doesn’t let it show. Smiling like he does, Kirishima pushed through his friends and followed Toshinori out the door.

They walked down towards the conference rooms, rooms that held their contractors, in complete silence.

“This is an important case,” Toshinori began, his voice gentle and poorly hiding his concern. “I chose you because you are a great asset to have, Kirishima. You are strong and smart, and most importantly, are personable.”

Kirishima looked at the man, his face contorting with his anxiety. He didn’t want to be treated like glass.

“Honestly, you being so personable is why I chose you for this assignment. Todoroki-shounen was a contender at first, but he’s not much of a talker; the same goes for Bakugou-shounen. Midoriya-shounen was probably the best choice, but there’s a new assignment that asked for three, so I gave up those three,” Toshinori explained the current assignments. It both delighted Kirishima to hear that he could keep up with arguably the three most qualified workers here as it did, at times, make him feel lesser. 

“Oh.”

But he was obviously not the first choice still.

“The only reason why you weren’t the first choice is because of what I walked into just now,” Toshinori interrupts Kirishima’s thoughts and words. Kirishima finds his eyes tearing away from the smooth, polished wood floor to see Toshinori stopping in front of Conference Room A, his gaze intense on him. “To be frank, I wasn’t too sure if we should have hired you all that time ago. You are excellent on the field, your skills are phenomenal. Something to be proud of, truly, but you are clearly not completely healed from your time on the force.”

“Toshinori—”

“Kirishima-shonen, I’m not saying that there’s shame in your current struggles,” Toshinori once again interrupts, his hand a soothing warmth on Kirishima’s shoulder. “I’m still not healed from my past injuries, and as many people have undoubtedly told you, it’s okay to not be okay. But you barely passed the psych evaluation and only passed your field training because you scored so phenomenally on the other things your lack of a shooting score passed you.”

Kirishima felt unable to look away from the piercing blue eyes, and the lump in his throat never tasted as bitter, as sad.

He had barely passed the admittance test.

“I just need to know, are you ready to take on this assignment?” Toshinori asks in complete seriousness. “It’s a high stake, big-name client. We do not expect anything untoward to happen, but we never know in these cases. I think highly of you, Kirishima-shonen, and if you are ready to take this on, I’ll believe you, but likewise, if you’re not, I will gladly give this to someone else.”

Kirishima swallowed, his dry tongue passing through his equally dry lips.

Without question, he was not okay, not when he nearly broke down twice in a matter of hours, but it was just a bad day. He wasn’t as shaken as he was two months ago; he was going to his mandated therapy, talking to people who could assist him. Kirishima just didn’t want to be treated like glass anymore; he wasn’t glass; he was an unbreakable force.

Steeling over his nerves and ignoring how his stomach twisted and turned, Kirishima raised his gaze to Toshinori.

“I can do it.”

A smile.

“Good.”

If Kirishima was sweating because he was on a mental slip earlier, he was now sweating because he was beyond petrified and embarrassed. His hands raised up to brush against his red spikey hair, praying to God that it didn’t look dumb. His legs bounced at a speed that was bordering insanity, but he could only hear the sound of his racing heart as he stared at your frowning form from across the table.

It was you — the Y/n, the world's biggest music idol, an absolute legend in the making.

“This is our very own Kirishima Eijirou, age twenty-eight. He has been with U.A.Services for approximately six months now and is without a doubt one of our most capable and well-serviced men,” Toshinori began the introduction to the three people on the other side of the table. Kirishima could feel a blush rising up his neck and settling into his cheeks as what he presumed to be you, your manager, and your lawyer shuffling through paperwork that was very thorough on his background. “He was enlisted in the military before joining our ranks and was honorably discharged at the age of twenty-six as First Sergeant Kirishima Eijirou due to extreme injury. He excels in negotiating, scouting, and is, as you know, a skilled close combatant and was skilled in handguns—”

“I don’t think he’ll need firearms,” you interrupt, a frown on your face in contrast to the bright smile Kirishima was so used to seeing on your face. He tensed in worry.

“Y/l/n!” your manager, Sato Kimiko, scolded.

“What? It’s true! We’ll be around my fans for the majority, if not all the time! How is that right? For him to have a firearm around defenseless, and may I add, harmless individuals?!” you argued, your eyebrows scrunching in your fury.

Kirishima felt frozen in his chair, his eyes seeking Toshinori for guidance, but found himself unable to look away from you. He knew nearly everything about you, he could admit with a proud grin that he was a super mega fan of you, and he might have, at one point, looked your height up to imagine how you would appear beside him. Kirishima had known this entire time that you were two feet shorter than him, but it hadn’t hit what that meant until he was shaking your hand when he first entered.

You were tiny.

His dick and mind really liked that, and seeing your own passion spilling out for your fans was making him fall deeper into this hole he had for you.

“You don’t have a say anymore? Do you understand? You were nearly assaulted yesterday, and we are all done waiting around for something serious to happen!” Kimiko yelled, her face contorted into a look of both frustration and fear. “Either you take this, or we all leave you. I won’t have you murdered in front of me! You’re twenty-six now, stop acting like a damn brat and grow the hell up!”

The words scorched the table, blistering heat filling the conference room as you met Kimiko’s glare.

Kirishima watched with a dropped jaw as your nostrils flared, your lips pursing, and your eyebrows furrowing with unspoken distaste and anger.

“Six months tops.”

“Uh, yes,” Toshinori interjected. “Our contracts only last up to six months for new clients, but if you find yourself wanting to extend your contract after those six months, we are very much open to negotiations.”

You nodded your head, your eyes falling back onto the booklet in your hands that exposed all the information available on Kirishima. From his likes, dislikes, to his allergies and the reason why he was discharged. Each in disturbingly deep detail to make sure all things were up on the table.

“So, you can’t shoot your gun, Kirishima-san?” you speak, your voice tight, a pleased, almost taunting tone.

Kirishima stills, embarrassment bubbling in his chest as you drop the booklet onto the table, exposing his military history to him and you. 

“...no,” Kirishima answers truthfully.

The lawyer shifts from the other side of you, his eyebrows scrunching as he too comes across that piece of information. 

“He won’t use firearms?” the lawyer scoffs, his semi-permanent frown deepening. “How will we know that he will keep Y/n completely safe from any sort of danger that may come her way? We’ll be paying six months for a glorified security guard? We want a bodyguard.”

“And we clearly have one,” you snap back, your eyes narrowing. “If my bodyguard isn’t Kirishima-san, I’m not getting one. I mean, isn’t that what you said earlier?”

“When we were assuming that the person Toshinori was assigning to your case was a well-rounded bodyguard. Not one that was still clearly haunted by his past.”

Fuck, that one hurt.

You scowled, your head tilting as you bared your teeth slightly, “And what? He managed to get into the best agency in all of Japan in spite of that. Sounds like he’s competent. I already told you I won’t take on a team, just one individual. I trust in Toshinori-san’s guidance and his choice in picking Kirishima-san. If you disagree, that’s too bad for you.”

“Y/n! Please stop this! You’re being ridiculous!” Kimiko huffed, slamming her own booklet down, her eyes drowning with her exhaustion. “I’m so sorry, Toshinori-san, Kirishima-san.”

“H-Hey, it’s okay!” Kirishima immediately imputed, his hands raising in a sign of retreat. “I know that Y/n has always enjoyed her independence as a solo star, and how me being involved now is imposing, especially after multiple attacks.”

Kirishima felt that his smile was a bit strained, a bit too forced, especially as your eyes hawked onto him. He felt like you were examining him, like a lab rat going through its initial trial and not knowing just what was to be expected.

“Six months?” you spoke, your gaze not leaving Kirishima’s own.

“Six months,” Kirishima agreed.

You hum, your head nodding. “Fine, six months tops unless the Lieutenant Colonel can apprehend these assholes faster.”

It had been ages since Kirishima had been called by his title, and for some reason, he found himself blushing. His mouth, for the first time this entire meeting, curled into a wolfish grin.

“You got it.”

The lawyer groaned, entirely aggravated and insulted. He stood up, “You’re asking to be murdered, Y/n. Don’t come haunting me when you end up dead and mutilated. You deserve all the shit you’re getting.”

Kirishima watched with his lips parted in a bewildered expression as the lawyer walked out of the room with a loud slam of the door.

You were unfazed, and Kimiko groaned, exhausted and embarrassed as she mumbled a weak, sullen, “I am so, so sorry, Toshinori-kun.”

“Ah, Kimiko-chan, it’s okay!” Toshinori shook his head and smiled knowingly. It wasn’t as if the long time famous bodyguard hadn’t seen his fair share of childish fights between clients. “Thank you for coming as always, and we’ll do our best to make sure that Y/n is in the best of hands.”

“Thank you… and so, the rest of the contract?”

“Ah, yes, let’s continue.”

So, the contract was discussed to full detail.

For six months, Kirishima would be attached to your side. He must always remain at most three meters away from you when there is no one around, and during fan interactions no more than one meter. He had a full say about your safety. If things got rough, you were to follow his every command. Your agency would pay for his room and lodging. He was to wear black pants and a black long-sleeved cotton tee. He would be working with every venue, every hotel, every conventions security team. He would lead them and never leave your side. He was to be awake an hour before you, rest when you were asleep so long as it was safe to do so. He was your guardian angel of sorts, and you would do nothing but adhere to him. 

Most importantly, according to Kimiko, there was one thing they were hoping for: Kirishima's help and discretion. For the next six months, they would be relying on Kirishima’s support to figure out who the group behind the assault was and who the mastermind was behind it all is.

Or so the contract said.

“Y/n!” Kirishima called when the papers were signed, and the day he was set to start was printed. He will begin tomorrow. “Wait!”

You stopped at the door, Kimiko and Toshinori chatting merrily between them as they exited the conference room, Toshinori’s booming voice asking if it was true that Kimiko was attending to a near forty clients to which she bashfully admitted to. You were dressed in a creme knit long-sleeved shirt, faded ripped jeans, and a pair of nude heels. The heels were big, undoubtedly giving you inches, but you still barely got to his shoulder.

“I-I’m looking forward to looking — I mean working with you!”

You looked at him closely, your eyes dragging to the top of his toes to the tallest spike in his hair before your lips pulled into a contemplative pout. You looked back to his eyes, and you steeled over, your head tilting to the side.

“I mean no offense, Sergeant, I thank you for doing your job, but I have no intention of looking forward to working with you. I don’t want you here, so do your best to ignore the contract and realize that I am the most important person, so you will follow my demands.”

Kirishima can do nothing but stare as you turn on your heel and leave.

Well, so much for a good case.

Date: 5/2 Time: 14:00 Location: Tokyo Music Stadium

If you would have told Kirishima Eijirou that he had been working for the grand, the perfect, the fantastic music idol Y/n for a month now, two months ago, he would have laughed so hard he’d cry. Not only would he have not believed it, but he would only think of a million and two scenarios where he would go the entire day flirting.

Now a month into knowing you, of being your bodyguard on a contract for six months, Kirishima could say that of that entire thought, the only thing he had been right about was that he was, in fact, crying. Not only has he never managed to speak an entire conversation with you despite being attached to your hip seven days a week, but despite your much shorter stature, you had managed to get away from him.

You always managed to sneak away from him.

Kirishima could admit that the no more than five meters rule had been wholly and utterly demolished.

And now, Kirishima was crying, not out of joy, but of pure manly fear as he raced through the backstages of the stadium, desperate to find your short-ass anywhere.

“Go, Kirishima!” someone yelled as Kirishima whizzed past him, “Find Y/n!”

“T-Thank you!” Kirishima screamed as he continued onward, the yellow-lit concrete hallway seemingly haunting the further he went into it. The earpiece in his left ear shrilled, the telling sign he was getting a call. Putting a finger to the circle in his ear, he answered the car. “Hello?!”

“Ah, Kirishima-san!” Kimiko’s voice chirped on the other side of the line. “Wonderful to hear your voice again! I’m calling to let you know that the tour bus is parked outside of the venue now. The concert was a smashing success, and she’s come out unharmed for the past month! To make matters even better, since your arrival, there have been no more assault attempts! Oh, um, sorry, where are you guys?”

“We’re just, um!” Kirishima tried not to pant into the microphone; he was still racing ahead, his head peeking into every door and room he passed. “Y/n needed to use the restroom?!”

“Oh, wonderful. Okay! Let me know when you two are on your way over!”

“Ya, okay, bye!”

“By—”

Kirishima hung up as he crashed through the doors at the end of the hallway.

It was night out right now, the full moon reflecting down on the dirty concrete with the same intensity as the streetlamps overhead. And in the middle of a crowd of around twenty people was the person Kirishima was trying to find: you.

You were still dressed in the final costume change of your concert. Even from a distance, Kirishima could see the glitter and highlight on the tip of your nose and the curve of your cheekbones. The crowd around you was clearly not hostile. Each face was bright with broad smiles and sparkling with fresh tears, each voice high and pitchy as if they were talking with some goddess and not you. 

There was a slight longing in Kirishima’s chest at the sight of you interacting with your fans, your smile was so beautiful, and he wished just for a moment that he was the one that it was directed towards. If he had met you as a fan, and only a fan, he wonders if you would look at him as you did the others. Would he see the pure joy in the depths in your eyes, the love, wonder, and pride as they asked you questions and answered your own?

He wanted to be just a fan.

“Y/n, the tour bus is here,” Kirishima finally found his voice, the tenor of his voice spreading through the narrow alleyway. “Say your goodbyes.”

He had to ignore the way you stiffened immediately, the unsolicited joy in your face breaking and becoming bleak as you met his gaze. Kirishima absolutely did not feel pressure behind his eyes when you rolled your eyes and began to say your goodbyes; he did not!

The group of fans waved goodbye as you walked backward toward Kirishima; you didn’t stop waving and continuing your parting conversations with the group until the metal doors of the stadium doors closed behind the two of you. Kirishima let out a sigh, his eyes closing for a brief moment before looking down at you. You were expressionless, eyes cold as you looked dead ahead.

“You’re not supposed to run away like that.”

“I thought we agreed you wouldn’t tell me what to do, Sergeant.”

“You know I can’t do that it’s not—”

“Part of your contract. Yeah, I know, but that’s your contract, not mine.”

“Oh, okay. Um, Kimiko? ...yeah, we’re heading out now. Five minutes, till.”

And then there’s only silence.

Neither Kirishima nor you bother talking the entire walk towards the tour bus, and you ignore Kimiko’s call that your lawyer would be meeting briefly before tomorrow's fan signing event. You walk into the bus and go directly to the beds, throwing yourself into the terribly padded bunk and passing out without so much as a sound.

Kirishima sinks into his own bed, it’s too small for him, but there’s nothing he can do about it. Sleep overcomes him easily these days; he’s always way too exhausted in chasing you down like some spoiled toddler you’re behaving like to dream. But that’s okay, he thinks as the comfort of sleep begins to dig its skeleton fingers into his side, at least the exhaustion stops the night terrors.

Date: 5/3 Time: 10:00 Location: Tokyo Music Tower

Now, Kirishima knew that it was a common belief and a nearly proven theory that when you met your idols, you should never ever have your expectations high on who they are as a person. Celebrities were out of touch, cruel, rude, nearly jaded. They weren’t exactly the common folk. With people willing to forget things like them being human beings themselves or the common thread of celebrities being too rich to care, any type of famous person was cold, rude, and ruthless.

He knew that.

He also knew that you weren’t like the nearly proven theory.

You were kind, sweet, a practical angel to anyone who dared to approach you. You were the exception to the rule, an outlier to them all. You spoke politely to all your fans, domestic and foreign, and you treated each fan like the most special person in the world.

You were a good person.

But Kirishima knew, just as you reacted to any cruel person you encountered, you had an edge. Your words were as vicious as your name was known. He genuinely enjoyed watching you put assholes into place, but he sulked, knowing he was always at the receiving end of the sharp, bitter tongue of yours.

For a month and a day now, he had been the number target of your bitter words and scorching hate, but he admitted that he enjoyed it when it wasn’t directed at him, if but a little bit.

“I’m not renegotiating my contract!” you groan, your palms slamming into the depths of your eyes. “I already told you that I don’t need all that money!”

“And I’m telling you that you need to increase the wages that you pay the rest of your team instead of all those charities or else people will begin dropping you!” the lawyer countered with similar fire, his scowl angry enough that Kirishima felt like he had to tear his gaze away from this horrible battle. “You won’t be the best of the best forever, y/n, get over your stupid savior act and look over the changes!”

Kirishima looked over at you, his eyebrows pinching as he watched you fold your arms, your cheeks pushed out to a puff as you looked at the stack of papers with the title page fully covered with the word Contract of Y/n and Co. on it. Well, it seemed that the rumor of you spending your paycheck on things that weren’t you was right, how entirely manly.

“Oh fuck off,” you growl, pushing out of the chair and storming away.

Kirishima glanced over at Kimiko, who was looking pale and exhausted, undoubtedly exhausted from the past thirty-minute battle between the lawyer and the idol that neither made a single step forward nor a step back. How you had the energy to fight so passionately was beyond him. Kimiko nodded minimally, her lips parting in a sigh as Kirishima stood up and followed after her.

“The only way that brat is going to listen is by force,” the lawyer sneered, his voice fading into the room that Kirishima exited. “If that’s how she wants to play, so be it.”

Fortunately for Kirishima, he catches up to you. There are tears of fury dripping down your cheeks, and he feels unable to speak as he discovers a new layer to you.

...how interesting.

“It’s my money,” you speak, but Kirishima is unsure if those words are meant for him or for the void, the earth that you would much rather converse with than him. “I already pay them all a much greater paycheck than they should be getting considering their client pool. Why do I have to bend to their stupid will when I’m the one making the money.”

Kirishima blinks, wondering just what people might want to raise with their contracts. But, he knew you were right. By her account, Kimiko had a client list of many successful individuals, and he may not know anything about the lawyer, but if he worked with Y/n, his name must be good. Guess they weren’t like you.

“People are selfish assholes,” was the only thing that Kirishima could think of, and was something he spoke before he could stop himself.

But you stop in your storm, the anger that clouded you somewhat dissipating, clearing just enough for you to turn to him, your sharp, beautiful eyes for the first time filled with rage that was not pointed at him, and an emotion that made him think of… amusement?

“Yeah,” you agree, a half-smile cracking onto your face, and Kirishima feels his soul begin leaving his very body. “People are selfish assholes, huh?”

“Very much.”

There’s a calm, a snorted chuckle, and Kirishima finds himself stumbling further into the abyss of his feelings for you.

The next ten hours seem to pass in a blur, Kirishima feeling like he was on Cloud Nine as he stood behind you, three meters as he watched fan after fan approach you. Signatures were made, pictures were taken, and Kirishima found that he never once had to approach.

Maybe, he thinks, just perhaps, the two of you can overcome this.

Ten minutes after the official signing is done, Kirishima can’t find you, and he curses loudly into the echoing floor.

So much for change.

Date: 5/17 Time: 23:00 Location: The Parking Lot - Mt. Lady Studios

Kirishima was, for the lack of better words, completely fucking done with you.

Don’t get it wrong, he still was a complete and massive fan of yours. He would never once betray his loyalty to you and your musical career, but he was slowly starting to realize just why the lawyer was set to dying of a heart attack any time soon. Despite your early entrance to stardom and the stuff of legends, you had kept your fiery, stubborn individualism.

Kirishima thought it was absolutely hot and sexy at times, especially the times where you strut around in revealing clothes because ‘this is your body,’ or the lingerie campaign you completed two days ago as part of some fundraising event. There were significant perks to your strong handle and claim to keeping your indestructible personality, but it came back to rub them all back in the worst of ways when once again, you escaped from Kirishima’s side.

To be fair, most of the time, Kirishima was a very level headed individual; he was near impossible to rile up despite popular initial belief. I mean, he was good friends with Bakugou Katsuki, who riled up just about anyone he talked to! He needed to have steel calm emotions, or at the very least portray that he does. But even the unbreakable after tireless attempts can, at times, be broken.

It had been a hard morning.

Kirishima had woken up in a panic, the sweat of his night terror soaking through the sheets of his bed, and his head felt like lead. They had been in the tour bus for the entire day because you were going from the tip of Japan to the bottom of it, thus meaning that you couldn’t run away from him, concluding that when he went to bed that night, he was merely tired, not exhausted.

“K...Kiri...shima?” the voice whispered in his ears when he bolted from his bed and tumbled to the ground, his chest heaving in his panic as he cried.

He only slept for four hours that night, the ghost of his comrade haunting him too much for him to ever drift back to sleep. The only thing he was grateful for when he stumbled down to the hotel lobby for breakfast was that he had an attack while in his own room and not in a tour bus with ten others.

But the lack of sleep and the twisting of his guts from his still unburied memories meant that his exhaustion was dialed up larger than he thought was capable. Today was an interview day plus a miniconcert at said interview.

That meant that for an hour before your interview and two hours afterward, Kirishima lost you and had to hunt you down. You weren’t making it easy on him and had started moving with the crowd you gathered to evade him.

But today, Kirishima was exhausted.

Today, Kirishima wanted to sleep.

Today… Kirishima broke.

“Let’s go,” Kirishima spoke in a low, commanding voice. His eyes were hooded as he looked down at you, the crowd of fans parting like the red sea as he stands behind you, larger than life, imposing.

You ignore him.

“We’re leaving, now.”

“Aw, did you make that just for me?! This beading is gorgeous!”

To be fair, Kirishima isn’t really sure if he’s crying right now or if steam is protruding from his ears like some stupid cartoon. The only thing he knows is that it's been a bit longer than a month, and his client is the most perfect person in the world except to him and some lawyer. All he knows is that he has been continuously mocked, shamed, and disrespected by his client, and at this moment, with his mind and body aching with the memories of the morning, he can no longer stop the tsunami of emotions and thoughts that shove out of him.

He grabs your wrist and begins pulling you away.

“We’re leaving now, sorry to disrupt your time. Come see Y/n another day.”

Kirishima isn’t even aware of your screams, the banging of your small fist against his back as his hand encompasses your bicep easily. He walks and walks and walks until he stops, his mind slightly put back into place.

“—FUCK IS YOUR PROBLEM?! LET GO OF ME, SERGEANT!”

Oh, right.

He lets go of you immediately and nearly snorts at how you stumble into his back. So small, so delicate, and so completely weak.

“You want to know my problem, y/l/n?” he asks, voice eerily calm, much calmer than he actually is. “My fucking problem is that I signed onto this case with a single rule: keep you in sight and protect you. It’s simple, almost too easy, isn’t it? But easy and simple is everything that this assignment is!”

Your face contorted into a flash of anger and embarrassment, your nose scrunching as you found your footing, “And I told you that I don’t give a crap about that contract! I didn’t want it in the first place, but no one listens to me!”

Kirishima snorts, his body shifting so that he can look at you properly; your face is seething, your teeth bared and eyes wild, but Kirishima has faced worse.

“It’s not in my contract to listen to you, unfortunately,” Kirishima points out, his eyes narrowing. “I would have a better time listening to you, trying to find an agreement that worked if you used that brain of yours and figured out a way to compromise with me.”

“Compromises aren’t—”

“You think I wouldn’t?” Kirishima almost whines, his voice tight with emotions, fingers fisting in his hair, “You really fucking think that after a month and how many days of me spending stupid hours trying to find your ass, most of the time never knowing if you’re dead or not, I wouldn’t want a better solution?!”

“Like hell they’ll kill me! And if they do, I don’t fucking care!” you stubbornly insist, finger buried against the swell of your chest.

“Oh my god,” Kirishima can’t stop the bitter laugh from escaping, “you’re ridiculous.”

“I’m ridiculous?! I’m not the ridiculous one here!” you cry, your eyes bursting with unshed, bitter tears. “So what that I run away from you? Can you imagine living the past ten years of your life trying to be something that the media wants you to be? No! You can’t, Sergeant! Those times where I’m running away isn’t to be some dick, but to give me time to be me!”

“You’re a goddamn idiot!” Kirishima barks, his anger curdling in his chest like a raging fire. “If you had looked at my damn file correctly, instead of focusing on the stupid shit like me not being able to fire my gun correctly, you would be more than aware of the fact that you are one of my favorite artists!”

“Wh-”

“I am one of the best in my company! I am easy to get along with, personal, manageable, flexible even, but from the very first moment you laid eyes on me, you’ve hated me! You talk down on me, you shit on me, my job, the reason I’m here! Listen, I would fucking love to be anywhere but here right now. I have literally never hated my job before, but you just made that a reality. But the worst part of this all is the fact that you seem to think I would have kept you away, prohibited you from doing things that I already know you love! You stand there and tell me that I would try to force you to do shit you don’t want when I have merely been asking for you to take me there with you! I don’t care if I have to stand away and watch, but I want to be there! I’m supposed to be protecting you, but you’re being nothing more than a stubborn brat who refuses to see the efforts I’m trying to make, and frankly, I’m done.”

Kirishima’s chest is burning with the lack of oxygen, his eyes narrowed and filled with raging fire as he stares down at you, his neck craned so that he could be closer, more daunting, intimidating.

“Fuck o-off,” you snap suddenly, a lone tear, your voice tight and shoulders tense as you storm off.

“So predictable,” Kirishima calls after you, but it’s not filled with the previous anger he had but the sinking misery and regret.

And for a moment, it’s quiet.

Until a single name is screamed.

“SERGEANT!”

And then the all too familiar sound of a fist colliding with skin.

The anger in Kirishima’s blood evaporates immediately, and horror sinks in as he turns towards where you had stormed off. Oh no, oh no, oh no.

The parking lot is filled with an ugly yellow light that seems to set the stage for what was to come down. His footsteps crashing down against the black pavement were mute in his ears, and his eyes were focused on your limp body slung over somebody's shoulder. There was one person behind him, the other one already hopping into a van; Kirishima was the devil on their heels.

“Come on! Let’s go!” the one in the van screamed, his voice full of gruff apprehension and fear.

The van turns on.

Kirishima grunts, adrenaline pumping through his veins as he sidesteps the man who was lingering behind the one carrying you and quickly slams his shoulder into the man's sternum, knocking him out the moment he collapses onto the ground. 

He lets out a roar of such, his eyes glowing with anger and a single mind track to take down the person who held you, ready to throw your unconscious body into the back of the van.

Kirishima doesn’t even know when he manages to get to the man's side, one hand on his shoulder, the other on you, and with the strength and anger of a million fighting warriors, he ripped you from his hold and sent him stumbling into the trunk. Your shallow breathing brushes against his neck, and Kirishima is hyper-aware of the cursing men who chose to abandon their unconscious comrade on the floor. 

With his arms filled by your unconscious body, Kirishima can only watch the van scurry out of the lot, the license plate immediately burning into his mind.

T082-23

When the man on the floor finally wakes up, he’s in police custody, and you’re just waking up. There's a bruise on your cheek, and you begin crying immediately.

Kirishima watches from the distance, his heart aching and guilt climbing up his throat as he watches Kimiko hold you close, her arms warm and tight.

Well, shit.

So much for the month of no attacks.

Kirishima sits in a waiting room, his head relaxed against the wall as he waits for your discharge from the hospital. They suspect a concussion, and they’re running some tests right now. The police are there too, trying to get information from you on the failed kidnapping attempt as well as beginning the initial trials of interrogation of the abandoned kidnapper with a broken sternum, ruptured spleen, and three cracked ribs.

He was not surprised when the police officers came to talk to him, and he gave them the license plate.

But they also gave him an essential piece of information.

(“Well, when we asked for a motive, it seemed that it wasn’t his idea,” the detective admitted, his hand rubbing the back of his neck. “His boss said that, and I quote, Y/n will end up dead and mutilated as is deserved. She deserves all the shit she has coming her way, end quote. Any ideas of who it could be”

Kirishima rubbed a hand across his face, the words striking a bit too familiarly to him, but from where. He shook his head, his eyes focusing on his bouncing knee.

“Thank you,” Kirishima said, his tone pointed in a clear indicator that this conversation was now over. The detective nodded, his frown slight as he left. The moment he was gone, Kirishima pulled out his phone and dialed a number. “Kimiko? Yeah, I think we might have our first suspect.”)

For now, he was waiting for you.

An hour passed before you shuffled into the waiting room. There was a bandage on your swollen cheek, but besides the obvious attack, your eyes looked strong, and it seemed like there was no concussion.

“I should be fine,” you speak first, your jaw tensing as if it physically pained you to speak (whether it was because you hated talking to him or because of the injury, Kirishima had no idea). “I will be fine; I just need some sleep.”

Kirishima nodded, his body completely exhausted, and his mind filled with nothing but regrets on how he handled his anger earlier. He needed to apologize. He wasn’t entirely wrong, but he had definitely crossed a few too many lines.

“Should we go?”

You chewed on your lip, your eyes looking down at the white tiled floors of the hospital — so bleak, so anxiety driving.

“I actually wanted to talk before we left.”

Oh?

“Of what, if I may ask?”

Your eyes raise back up before looking away again, “the contract.”

Kirishima finds himself nodding, his hand gesturing towards the empty seat in front of him.

“Sure.”

And with a heaving sigh that sounds like you were on the verge of tears, you sit before him.

The contract was then discussed.

It was decided that you could continue to interact with fans as you wish, so long as you took Kirishima with you. He didn’t care about the long hours, the manic fans, or the impending doom of a group of people who meant business. He needed to be there.

Everything else stayed the same, but Kirishima looked at you one last time that night in the hospital, his body leaning towards you as he did his best to keep his face void of emotion and any lingering teasing.

“I’ll only accept this new negotiation on one term.”

“W-What?!” you pause, thinking. “Fine, say it.”

“From here on out, I think we should be friends, yeah? I’m on your side, after all, it’s a bit weird if we stay just acquaintances.”

The tension and horror leave your body, and Kirishima, for the first time ever, bears witness to the most relaxed, meaningful smile he has ever seen you give. It had been one hell of a shitty night, but at that very moment when the seventh turned into the eighth, Kirishima felt a new warmth flood through his chest, his heart racing at the sight of your glorious smile.

“Of course, Kirishima.”

“Oh, and y/n?” 

“Yes?”

“I’m sorry about all that I said. It was unmanly of me and out of line.”

“It’s okay. To be fair, I was a bit of a self-absorbed brat, too.”

The next day, a picture of Kirishima holding you bridal style is trending.

Date: 6/12 Time: 19:00 Location: Hime Onsen

An Interview with Y/n | Vogue Japan 4.5 million views • Premiered 2 hours ago 874k [liked this] 12.3k [disliked this] Timestamp: 05:32 / 10:33

[Interviewer]: Now, Y/n, we must congratulate you on your latest achievement! Your latest self-titled album, ‘Y/N,’ has been nominated for a record high of twelve awards for the upcoming Japan Record Awards, which will be coming up in about a month! Tell us how you feel about this?

[You]: It was quite a surprise actually! I didn’t realize that it would have done so well in the critic's eyes to get this type of award. I am proud of myself and am excited to see all the other amazing artists and musicians who were nominated as well.

[Interviewer]: Now, your album is all about staying true to yourself, whether that be in love or war. It depicts your own highs and lows while also highlighting beautifully universal things many of us face. Without question, you have always been adamant on staying connected with your fans and keeping a simple rule: no bodyguards.

[Y/n]: Oh, (laughs) yes! That is definitely a new thing, huh?

[Interviewer]: A new thing and a beautiful thing at that, too! Look here!

[captioner notes: interviewer displays many photos of Y/n’s bodyguard, including the most famous one where he’s holding y/n after the failed kidnapped attempt]

[Interviewer]: This is a beautiful — don’t giggle! — a beautiful man, Y/n! What do you have to say for yourself?! Did you finally succumb to keeping untrue to yourself for this beautiful man?! If so, it is perfectly acceptable. By chance, is your contract with him done? I would personally love to have this man on my team.

[Y/n]: (laughing) By all means, take him! (Y/n looks behind her, her bodyguard is there) I’m kidding, I’m kidding! (pauses) No, actually, sorry. Kirishima is an outstanding bodyguard, and I have no intentions of leaving him so soon. Uh, while I did say I had no wish or intentions to have a bodyguard, obviously that was not the best solution, so I hired Kirishima. He is a wonderful addition to my team and still allows me to be authentically me, so it’s still all good.

[Interviewer]: Ah, okay, well, Kirishima-kun, if you ever need a new client, call me. But moving on, yes! Would you like to discuss the series of increasingly concerning attacks?

Kirishima stood in the softly lit hallways of a sauna.

Today was one of the last remaining days you had off, and in celebration of your upcoming award season, you had decided that it was mandatory to visit the hot springs. Everyone on your team — the backup dancers, band, and hair and makeup — were ecstatic to learn that they were being involved with it too.

This high-end resort had accommodated your entire team to receive their own private spring with an all-inclusive menu too. 

It was thanks from the owner for the free PR and, of course, because they were some of your biggest fans. So, in thanks, everyone got to enjoy the springs.

Well, everyone but Kirishima, that was.

As of the past month, things between Kirishima and you had improved a lot.

With Kirishima no longer needing to run a marathon daily to find where you were, he would find himself walking at your side. He no longer felt like you hated him. There was respect and actual friendship between the two of you. You joked with him, showed him memes and TikTok, sent him snapchat streaks, and invited him to watch weird shows with you. You even complained to him about the things that annoyed you, namely Kimiko’s attention being stolen by other clients and the rude conversations you would have with the lawyer.

It made Kirishima’s chest warm up knowing that you were friends now.

A stressful month had passed into a friendlier one.

But there were some things that Kirishima would not have expected to… arise.

Namely you growing to be comfortable enough to walk around with nothing but a thin pair of panties and a large shirt. You curling into his side whenever you watched a show together in the bus, the way your lips brushed against his neck when he leaned down to hug you, or the very so not obvious teasing you would do when you changed in front of him. It was as if you were watching his every reaction, enjoying the way that his eyes horribly tore away, or the silent hitch in his throat whenever you speed his heart up.

The biggest surprise arose the night after the failed kidnapping attempt:

You had come to his room, hours after you were supposed to have fallen asleep.

Your eyes were sunken, still a bit tired, and the bruise on your cheek was looking bad. In your arms was a white binder undoubtedly filled with the introductory packet you had received at your initial meeting. Kirishima had opened the door in his sleepy state in nothing but gym shorts. He had barely started dozing off, his mind wouldn’t stop thinking of what could have happened if you hadn’t managed to scream, and so he kept tossing and turning.

Seeing you outside of his room, his head dropped down to look at you properly, and his fist rubbing at his eye fell, “Y/n?”

“Did I wake you?” you asked, your face filled with a shocked, near uncomfortable, and embarrassed expression he doesn’t recall ever seeing on you. “I’m so sorry! I’ll wait until—”

“No,” Kirishima grunts while he shakes his head, his voice raspy and dry from his lack of use. “I’ve been tossing and turning, um, what is it? Do you want to come in?”

“I-If that’s okay?”

Kirishima breathes out a bit, his shoulders relaxing as he smiles softly, “Come on, let’s talk about what’s on your mind.”

The door clicked behind your tentative steps with an echo, and Kirishima watched as you walked into the hotel room with wariness and caution.

“Would you like some tea?” Kirishima offered, picking up a shirt from his dresser and pulling it over his body. The fabric was tight against his chest and shoulders, but felt more appropriate to wear around you.

“No, I’m okay,” you politely decline.

You stood in the center of the room, unsure of where to sit, stand, or lay.

“Go ahead and make the bed,” Kirishima offered, taking the chair by the desk. “I promise it’s still clean.”

You laugh slightly, smile strained but grateful as you sit at the edge of the bed, binder resting on your lap.

“Thanks, I wouldn’t want to sit on a dirty bed,” you joke, but it sounds weak to Kirishima’s ears.

“So, what questions do you have?”

“Hm?”

“You have my portfolio,” he shrugs, leaning forward so that his forearms rest on his knees. “I have a feeling you have some questions.”

“Oh, right,” you whisper, your eyebrows scrunching as you open the binder to the first page, but your eyes are focused on the desk. “What’s the medication for?”

Kirishima turns his head to follow your gaze and comes across the yellow tinted medicine containers.

“My PTSD,” Kirishima answers honestly, his voice soft with emotion, but there was no shame in it. “My service had a difficult end.”

“That’s actually… that’s what I came to talk about,” you rush, your hands slamming the binder closed. “If you don’t want to talk about it, obviously I won’t push it! God, I’m sorry I shouldn’t have—”

“No, it’s okay,” Kirishima interrupted, his smile sad, but he stood up, his body a tower in front of yours as he urged you to sit back down. “It’s okay; I don’t mind talking about it.”

“B-But what if I say something that makes it all worse?”

A pause.

“Then I’ll tell you that it’s too much.”

A nod.

“Are you… are you still experiencing a lot of symptoms?” you ask, your fingers tightening and untightening around the binder.

“Some days are worse than others,” Kirishima admits, his shoulders shrugging. “I don’t experience much anxiety while in crowds anymore; I don’t have many flashbacks to those days anymore, not since February at least. I do still get… I still get night terrors and dream of that day. It’s nowhere near as bad as the first few months after the accident, but it’s still here.”

“What happened?” you asked after a bit, morbidly curious.

The file had all the details that proved Kirishima to be a master of firearms during his entire time on the force. He was a powerful combatist, and his ranking was a clear indicator of the respect and skills he had. Still, it was the quick honorable discharge, the near year-long hospitalization, and the current inability to use a firearm that concerned you.

What had happened?

“I was involved in a grenade explosion on my last day on tour. I was the only one who managed to survive the blast,” Kirishima easily stated, his voice quiet.

“Oh my god, I… holy shit, I’m so sorry.”

“Nah, it’s all good. There were only two others around, and one of them was already dead.”

“Was that um, Major—”

“We called him Crimson Riot, actually,” Kirishima smiled, a chuckle light on his tongue as he leaned back onto the chair, nodding. “Yeah, that was him.”

“Crimson Riot,” you repeat, nodding. “Did you watch him… watch him die?”

Kirishima presses his lips tightly together, and for a moment, you’re unsure if he’s going to cry, answer you, or tell you to leave. There’s a whirlwind of emotions on your optimistic and typically jubilant bodyguard despite your asshole tendencies that make your stomach twist.

“Yes,” Kirishima finally answers, and you nod.

It’s hours into the morning before you finally depart back to your room, the horrors of Kirishima’s past still pounding into your ears. Kirishima wouldn’t notice, and neither would you, but on his shirt and yours, there’s a few drops of tears the both of you shed when you said goodnight.

Sergeant Kirishima Eijirou, while on an active warzone, had accidentally struck and killed his superior officer, his friend, his role model Crimson Riot, thinking that he was nothing more than an enemy target as he sat wounded behind a wall. He died on his lap, and as someone came to help, a grenade landed two meters away before detonating.

“K...Kiri...shima?” Crimson Riot had whispered as he fell to his knees, blood gushing and seeping through his clothes, spilling onto Kirishima’s lap. “I’ll be okay.”

For whatever reason, since that night, Kirishima felt something in him shift. He still took his medication, still had his virtual therapy sessions when he could fit them in, and even had painful night terrors of that moment, but it was becoming less frequent.

He wasn’t made of glass.

There had been more instances after the kidnapping attempt, but unlike the last times, Kirishima was prepared. He had stopped each one, keeping you safe and sound. As of one week ago, he had officially been given a firearm to keep strapped to his thigh at all times now.

It was an unfamiliar weight, one that still twisted his stomach and made him nervous, but he knew the reason why it was needed. Since the gun had been added to his gear, the attacks stopped. He was definitely not ready to be firing it anytime soon, but it had deterred the attackers for the time being.

Kirishima paused when he heard his earpiece ring, and he dropped his phone where he had been watching your interview despite being there himself.

“Talk to me,” Kirishima answered, his finger pressing the accept button.

“Kirishima!” came the distressed voice of Kimiko, “We just got a tip!”

Kirishima stilled, his eyes scanning the empty hallways that stretched throughout the private hot springs.

“I don’t know, but a person with connections with this mastermind said something about how there were two more events he was staging. Today is one of them!”

Kirishima’s eyes widened, his lips parting to answer Kimiko when instead there was a large, loud crash in the water from inside your room. He assumed the worst.

“Y/n!” Kirishima shouted, hands throwing open the sliding door and racing through the storage room, the shower, and exited out into the hot spring.

Steam curled through the wind, the white wisps of steam feeling warm and light against Kirishima’s skin, and Kirishima panicked when he couldn’t see your shadow or figure in the hot springs.

“Where is she?! Is she alright?!” Kimiko panicked, her voice panicking already. “I’ll call the—”

Kirishima turned on his heel, ready to complete a full sweep of the outdoor hot spring when he crashed into something smaller than he was… smaller, softer, and definitely the shape of a woman. Kirishima felt his entire body stiffen when his rough palms felt the undeniable feeling of wet, warm skin.

“Oh my god,” he heard you shriek. “KIRISHIMA!”

“She’s all good, Kimiko,” Kirishima stifled out, his voice tight, his head slamming backward so that his eyes were concentrated on the starry night sky.

“...sorry… uh aha! Another client of mine is calling, goodbye!” Kimiko’s apology was meek and small before she hung up.

Kirishima’s mind was racing a mile a minute, but his body was frozen, unmoving like a rock when he realized that pressing to his stomach was, without a doubt, your breasts.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

“What are you doing in here, pervert?!” you splutter, your hands pressing to his stomach as you step away. “Are you a pervert or something?!”

“I, no! No! Of course not! Fuck, shit, I’m so sorry! I’ll go! There was a tip that something was going to happen right now, and there was a crash and—”

“What are you looking at?” you exclaim, squeaky frustration heavy on your tongue. “There’s nothing wrong with the sky! Look me in the eyes? Have you never been to a co-ed hot spring before?!”

“Y-Yes, sorry!” Kirishima apologized, bowing slightly in apology before he peered down. Still, his face bursted in a flame as he watched the way your jaw dropped in disbelief, the dewy wetness of the hot spring clinging to your body. You were, obviously, soaked, and Kirishima bit his tongue as hard as he could to keep the whimper from expelling past his lips when he saw the light gleaming off your breasts. But he watched your face shift between a million emotions, each one appearing too fast for him to read, too fast to register, but he saw the way a single-arm wrap around your breast and the other shoving into his stomach.

“PERVERT!”

“What?!”

“That was a test! This is my private room! I have the right to not be willing to be looked at right now!” you shrieked as Kirishima spun around, allowing you the complete privacy of his gaze.

“You told me to look at you!” he squawked. “Y-You told me, and I listened because of our contract!”

Kirishima could feel his body trembling, his mind reeling in disbelief that he definitely saw you in your entire nakedness, and if the swirling heat in his stomach had anything to say about it, he liked it. Fuck.

There was a soft laugh and the sound of sloshing water as you probably (he wouldn’t know because he wasn’t looking) reentered the spring.

“I know, I was teasing,” you sing, and he can tell the water is gliding around your body. “Turn around, Kiri, let’s talk.”

“Haha, um, I’m not sure if that’s a good idea,” Kirishima admits, although sitting in this steam-filled space with just you sounds so very nice. 

“Why not?” you asked, voice sounding a bit upset.

“I’m supposed to be outside, doing my job?”

“Augh, but these private springs are so boring alone,” your voice whines; the water sloshes, and Kirishima winces at the slight throb on his tongue as he continues to look at not your direction. “Turn around, Kiri.”

Not too long ago, you had taken to calling him Kiri, a subtle change, a not unusual nickname people gave him. But just because it was you, his stomach flipped and twisted, and now with the image of your tits in mind, his dick throbbed. 

Gulping, Kirishima turned, his gaze bashfully looking down at you before glancing away. You were chest-deep in the hot springs, tendrils of your wet hair sticking to your neck. Was he dead? Maybe dreaming?

No, his dreams were never like this.

“Do you want to come in?” you continued to ask, your body moving towards him in the water until you reached the edge of the pool, arms testing into the black rocks. “You’re the only one not in one, and since I hate being in these alone, I figured you’d like to join.”

Kirishima wanted to join. More than anything, he wanted to take his clothes off and jump into the springs with you, for you, but that would be unprofessional. Entirely and utterly unprofessional.

“Please?” you ask softly, pleadingly, and Kirishima makes the mistake of locking his gaze with yours. 

“...fine, but I’ll be on the other side of the spring,” he concedes, his steps near clumsy and oafish as he stumbles backward to the shower and closet.

“Such a gentleman pervert,” you tease, fingers curling as you wave at him until Kirishima finally closes the door behind him.

The empty room is nearly deafening in its silence and the future as Kirishima slumps against the sliding door, excited apprehension rippling through every cell of his skin as a smile spreads across his face. He walks to the storage room, and despite it being a private room, there were two closets. The closet not already occupying your clothes had the things needed for him, and thankfully, it fit. 

He undressed slowly, folding his clothes and placing them into the cubbies. Fully naked, he approached the showers, and under the lukewarm showerhead, he cleaned his body of any grime, dirt, and sweat. 

Feeling refreshed and clean, Kirishima began his descent to the hot spring, his heart hammering when his fingers grabbed the handle of the door.

“I’m coming in,” he announced, a healthy amount of fear, excitement, and heat drumming through him.

“I’ll keep my virgin eyes away from your body, don’t worry,” came your slow tease, and Kirishima snorted softly.

Kirishima stepped back out to the hot spring.

Just like the first time, the entrance to the spring was warm, the steam seeming thicker than last time, clouding the outdoor room and his sight. You were at the furthest out part of the pool, your back towards them as you worked your fingers through your scalp.

Discarding his slippers at the edge, Kirishima climbed into the pool.

The pool only went as far as his thigh, and he sank into the warm water. It felt wonderful on his body, relaxing his muscles just enough for him to wonder when was the last time he had managed to visit a hot spring.

“I’m in,” Kirishima said, his arms rising up out of the water, resting onto the black stone. “You can turn around now.”

“God, took you long enough,” you tease, your body twisting so that you were facing him again.

To Kirishima’s complete and utter surprise, you stilled, eyes dragging up and down his exposed chest, eyes locked on the series of tattoos all over his right pectoral, and trailed down his right arm. His lips felt dry as your eyes shifted back to his face, to his arm, and back to him. The smile on your face felt weak, but it sent a spiral of dizzying heat through Kirishima when he noticed the hushed lust.

For a while, the two of you remained at opposite ends of the hot spring. Eyes closed, hummed melodies passing through the song. You asked Kirishima about how he felt, if his medication was due for refills, if therapy was okay (he was doing better, a refill was due in two weeks, and therapy was going the same). He asked you about your relationship with Kimiko, with the lawyer, and if you had any real friends within the music industry (Kimiko was like an older cousin to you, the lawyer was a pain to deal with at times, and surprisingly, you did meet some genuine friends). You questioned how his friends were doing, if he had any contact with them despite their busy schedules. 

So Kirishima found himself retelling stories of his coworkers turned close friends. Each story he told left both of you with sore stomachs from laughter, and tears at the corner of your eyes from laughing too hard. 

“Was the tip story true?” you asked once the quiet overcame and grew old. You shift through the water, getting a bit closer to Kirishima.

Kirishima coughed, suddenly feeling a tad bit shy about his posture, but decided to keep from moving.

“You honestly think I would have barged into here just because I wanted to see you?”

Truthfully, had Kirishima been a man without morals, chivalry, or disrespect for you, he would have. Definitely would have.

“Let a girl dream,” you smile, like a luring siren as you wander closer by just a step. “It would go against everything I know about you, but it’s fun to tease.”

“You’re a bigger brat than I thought you would be,” Kirishima smiles back, trying his best to not show the way goosebumps were bursting against his skin, his eyes locked on yours, trying to not get distracted by the way your wet skin made his mind spin.

“I don’t think I’m a brat,” you counter, getting close enough that he could feel the currents of the water with your movement. But you were far enough that Kirishima felt like pointing out the fact you disregarded his keep apart rule would be a mistake. “How am I a brat?”

The sound of the water rippling through the springs along with the growing noises of the bugs began a melody around the two of you, and all Kirishima could do was stare at the way you blinked your eyes slowly — like a feline stalking a prey.

“A lot of ways, really,” Kirishima breathes, his heart rising up to his throat as he felt your hands gingerly place themselves on his knees.

“Yeah?” you ask, parting through his naked legs, and Kirishima felt his breathing stop when your exposed chest pressed against his. Your lips were ghosting so far from his but tantalizingly close enough that he felt drunk off your sweet breath. “And what are you going to do about it?”

Kirishima sucked in air, his arms resisting movement, and his eyes glanced down at the way your mouth was millimeters from his. His dick was very much interested in what he could do about it, and when your hands grazed up his thigh and onto his chest, Kirishima could feel something rumble in his chest.

He moved to eliminate the space, but there was a crash in the following spring, pushing you away from him long before he could claim your mouth.

“FUCK!” the person in the opposite spring screamed, and Kirishima’s eyes closed in his muted annoyance as you sighed.

His eyes dropped to the water, giving you the privacy to rise out of the water and make your way over to the wall.

“Jenny, are you okay?” you called.

“Give me a warning the next time you try fucking your hot bodyguard in the middle of a private onsen!”

“We weren’t fucking you prude!”

And with that, Kirishima took this as his embarrassed cue to leave.

He stood at the entrance of your private spring for about twenty minutes, entirely uncomfortable with the still hard dick in his pants, rubbing and chaffing against his jeans as he stood there. Eventually, you exited the hot spring, face glowing from the steam and eyes avoiding his gaze as you walked back to your room. Your robe was tight on your body, the hair on the nape of your neck pressed to your skin.

Kirishima sighed as he watched you enter your room, your smile short as you nodded a simple goodnight before letting the door slam shut behind you.

Rubbing his face, Kirishima listened to the voices in his intercom talk about how nothing had happened tonight. An attempted unwelcome visitor tried to get into your room, but they had stopped him. They didn’t fight, but they had run away the moment they caught on to the fact that they weren’t exactly authentic.

Kirishima sighed as he slumped into his room, collapsing on the too small bed as he found himself looking at the ceiling in deep concentration.

What was he going to do now?

That was undeniably sexual, his still semi-hard dick damning evidence to the known fact that he wanted you. By god did he want you. Wanted you beneath him, over him, splitting yourself down onto his cock while you gripped your arms and legs around him, fucking down onto his driving cock. 

Kirishima groaned low in his chest, guilt blooming in the back of his throat as his palm rubbed his pulsing cock.

Bad, Kirishima, bad.

“Kirishima-san?” a voice broke through his earpiece, and Kirishima nearly jumped out of his skin. “Are you there?”

“Hi Kimiko,” Kirishima sighed, his dick deflating instantly. “Everything all right?”

“Ah, yes! Sorry about earlier, the false tip and the sudden abandonment!” Kimiko embarrassingly apologized. “My client was ringing for the fourth time, and while I care deeply for y/n, I had to take it!”

“Mm, no worries, Kimiko,” Kirishima smiled politely despite the lack of visual contact. “How can I help you?”

“Ah, yes,” Kimiko asserted, her tone changing from apology to one of formality. “So, about the visitor incident I’m sure you were brought attention to, it seems that the vehicle they came in was with the driver's plate: T082-23. Does that sound familiar?”

“Not currently,” Kirishima sighed, his body stretching into a sitting up position. “Does it to you?”

“No…” Kimiko admitted, and Kirishima could feel the worried frown on her face. “Well, I just wanted to call and give you that information. It was passed along to me, and they mentioned they hadn’t told you. And since I was going to give you the schedule for the upcoming JRA’s award day, I figured I’d let you know!”

“No problem! Let’s go over the schedule now?”

“Yes! I have a client meeting in America right after this! Can you believe it? An American celebrity wants my help?!”

“That sounds amazing, Kimiko!”

“Okay, so this is how the day’s going to go!”

Date: 7/10 Time: 18:00 Location: Tokyo Hotel Room 101

Kirishima watched as an entire team was getting you dressed up.

Two people were doing your hair, three people doing your nails, one person doing your makeup, and five getting one of your three outfits for the night ready.

According to you, as you had strutted around in these outfits nearly two weeks ago were your red carpet and beginning of the award show outfit, your performance outfit, and of course, the after-party outfit. Each one was different, yet when adorned on your body was a perfect replica of who you were.

Most importantly, the two of you had decided to ignore every single instance of tremendous sexual energy and desire that basically leaked from both of your pores. It was for the best to ignore it. There was no point in pursuing it, especially when there was a known hunt for you, and Kirishima was the last line of defense between you and whoever it was.

Whoever it was, pfft.

Kirishima was willing to bet on who it was already.

Since the night of the initial kidnapping that finally closed the gap between you and Kirishima, there was something that the caught criminal said that stuck with him.

Everything you had coming your way, you deserved, he had said in bitter spite.

The interesting thing was that it was the lawyer who had said that, multiple times at that. The lawyer seemed to have everything to fuel him to rage against you. Everything you said or tried, the lawyer was on your heel, barking at you that it was wrong. Kirishima had also seen the contracts between you and the lawyer, and the amount that he was paid to be your attorney was not large at all.

The mass majority of the funds you earned were always funneled towards charities and organizations you trusted to help people in need — in fact, it was almost 80% of your total earnings. A meek, barely larger than 20% was split between you, your lawyer, Kimiko, your music crew, and any other unforeseen expenses. The lawyer was also in a situation where he was not in demand with clients, and if you weren’t heeding his expensive tag, he needed a new contract with you.

A contract he was always demanding to discuss with you that you denied to change.

Attacks tended to happen days after you and the lawyer tumbled, not enough to rouse suspicion if you weren’t looking, but Kirishima was. He just needed damning evidence now.

Something.

Anything.

And for some reason, his gut was screaming at him that something big was going to happen tonight, that tonight was going to be the last attack—the one to end everything.

So he had told everyone about it. Kimiko, the security at the JRA’s, even you. It made him nervous.

It made his hand sweat, the gun strapped to his thigh feeling like hot iron as he stood about as you laughed with your makeup crew.

Kirishima swore, promised, and vowed he would protect you.

He was going to.

And when the gold dress was tied to your body, fitting you beautifully, Kirishima found himself unable to look away like strands of your hair framed your temples.

“What do you think, Kiri? Will I be on the Best Dressed List?” you asked, tearing Kirishima’s attention away from the bodice and skirt of the dress. Your eyes were bright, hopeful, yearning for a positive reaction from him.

“How could you not be?” Kirishima admitted, his grin toothy, and he shifted against the wall.

“You’ll make me blush,” you grin back, eyes batting just a bit as you clasp your hands together. It takes everything in Kirishima to keep from striding across the space between the two of you and kissing you silly. “Are we ready to go?”

Kirishima wet his lips, unwillingly tearing his gaze from you, and whispers into the intercom.

“Ready to move out?”

“We’re all clear.”

Straightening back up, Kirishima smiled at you, his head motioning towards the door.

“Alright, y/n, let’s see you make some history?”

“Damn right I will.”

Kirishima smiled as he exited first, carving the path for you. 

Paparazzi were on you immediately, the lights flashing and terribly bright as he helped you through the throngs of them. His hand pressed to your back as they screamed demands, most of which you complied with until Kirishima stated that you would be late. You, unfortunately, couldn’t be late to the awards show.

Ushering you into the limousine, Kirishima follows in shortly after you, scrunching up in his seat as he sits opposite of you. However, your typical light and bright demeanor are gone; instead, you seem almost anxious as you open your handbag.

“You okay there?” Kirishima asks as he realizes you pulled out a distinctly obvious metal flask.

“Awards make me nervous,” you painfully admit; you're weakly smiling as you knock back a shot of the drink. “I hate winning and losing; the alcohol makes me less… of a wreck. Do you want some? I think it’s apple soju, I don’t know, a good luck gift from Kimiko.”

Kirishima grins, his eyes rolling as he decides to decline the drink. “Sorry, love, I think that I need to be completely sober for today.”

You scrunch your nose, obviously displeased, “Lame, who shows up to these awards sober?”

“Me,” Kirishima laughed, his head tilting back and scraping against the ceiling of the limousine. 

“Such a prude, sober, pervert,” you sigh, taking yet another swig before putting the flask back into your bag. 

“Such a brat.”

Just like every previous instance, your eyes seem to glow in glee at that name, your lips curling into a pleased smirk as you shrug. It's a sight that makes Kirishima’s mouth dry and heart racing. Fuck, he should not be thinking about fucking you in the limousine right now.

But before the heat in the limousine could simmer to one of undeniable boiling, you had arrived.

Kirishima cleared his throat, sending a quick wink your way as he exited the car first. The first stop was for him to join the lineup to guide you through all the different photo and interview sessions. No one wanted pictures of him emerging from the limo after all. 

There's a moment where after Kirishima closes the door, your eyes filled with worry and excitement as he winked goodbye, that things changed. He stood up, his eyes already scanning the area for anything suspicious, when he saw the all too familiar van.

T082-23.

His eyes widened, his head looking around for anyone else, but there was no one to help. No one could do anything as the car continued to drive away, disappearing from Kirishima’s line of sight. His heart hammered in his chest, and his hands instinctively went to his thigh. He had his firearm… he had it.

With nothing but a quick report to the head of security via his com, Kirishima pushed on ahead, waiting for your descent down the red carpet.

When you eventually emerged from the limousine, Kirishima found that at this moment, the entire world faded away as a gloved hand assisted you out of the vehicle. You were elegant, stunning, a realistic vibrant portrait within his world of greys. As you took photos for the cameras, he was by your side a few strides away as you talked to reporters.

You really came to life right now.

You were beautiful.

“For all the pain in the world that she is, she’s quite charming from a distance, huh?” a voice spoke to his side, and Kirishima froze. His eyes widened completely when he noticed that standing beside him was none other than the lawyer.

The lawyer was dressed in a nice suit, glasses perched on his nose, and for the first time Kirishima had seen, the scowl was not quite so hard.

He was here.

Every warning bell sounded in Kirishima’s head.

This was the man he was so sure was the reason behind your every attack. A man fueled by insufficient funding, a need for a new contract that would never be approved without your signature.

“What are you doing here?” Kirishima asked, subtlety never being something he was ever good with. “I’ve never seen you anywhere except to argue with Y/n about contracts. This doesn’t seem like the appropriate time to be discussing it.”

“Kimiko wanted me to give her a new contract proposal to give to y/n. However, to be fair, it’s quite easy for anything to come down to an argument with y/n,” he shrugs, and Kirishima watches a cloud of emotions pass between the man’s eyes. “At least between her and me, we’ve never gotten along, but I suppose that’s how it is for any type of family who works together.”

Wait.

“What?! Family member?!”

“Yes, I know it’s strange to believe. I am quite ugly, and she is not, but we’re family.”

Kirishima’s mind was racing now. It didn’t make sense. If he was family, why would he be in such pursuit of potentially murdering you? If you were family, he was sure that you would help out? If he needed a raise like he thought, wouldn’t you have helped?

There was no way you wouldn’t.

Was he wrong?

Who was it?

“Kiri!” your voice broke into his mind and tore him back to reality. You waved at him, then passed a stuck-out tongue to the lawyer in a teasing fashion. “Let’s go in?”

Kirishima looked over at the lawyer who greeted a woman, who was also walking down the red carpet, a celebrity he could name no less, with a warm kiss. 

Oh fuck.

He needed to call Kimiko; he was so very wrong.

You had won two awards so far, and at this very moment, Kirishima was being ushered back to his seat in the audience as you were being escorted to the main stage to perform your latest song. You had removed your gold dress for a black, sleek gown. Your lipstick changed to a dark red, and your hands trembled in the white lace gloves you wore.

“Oh, Kiri,” you wheezed almost, your hands shaking as the announcers on stage were announcing the last awards before your performance. “I’m getting nervous. What if I mess up or sing off-key? I’d be the laughing stock!”

Kirishima laughed gently, his hands easily encompassing your waist as he stilled your frantic moves. “Y/l/n y/n, if there is anything I know for sure about you is that you are one hell of a singer and a performer. The awards you’re nominated for tonight speak for themselves! You never fail at your performances, and even if you somehow manage to sing off-key, I’m sure that no one would notice! Your biggest fan in the world won’t notice, at least.”

Not more than seven days ago, when you had cried about the impending nerves of being an artist, Kirishima had come to claim the title of being your biggest fan in the world. It had made you chuckle through your tears before coming near a hysterical laugh as the two of you held each other close.

“You’re a nut, Kirishima Eijirou,” you laugh, hands resting on his lower ribs, but your smile was bright, warm. You paused a bit, fingers pulling at the fabric of his shirt. “I’ll sing just for you then, but I think I should take another swig of that soju.”

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

“Could you tell that Takeyama is completely drunk off her ass?”

“...she’s drunk?!”

“Exactly, I’ll be fine,” you breathe, taking a new smaller flask from the purse Kirishima was holding for you and taking the final swig. Your face contorts at the bitter liquid. “Ew, Kimiko really fucked me over with this one. Why is it blue?! Have you ever seen blue apple soju?!”

“No?” Kirishima startled, his eyes looking at the indeed splash of blue liquid tainting a small part of your gloves. “Who gave you that one? What happened with the other flask of yours?”

“Oh, Kimiko sent it along after I lost my other one; it’s her own flask,” you said before the backstage crew whisked you away to begin your set, and without you, Kirishima was sent to the audience.

Kirishima felt trapped as he was ushered into his seat, his eyes scanning the entire audience for something suspicious, a familiar face perhaps. His broad shoulders continued to bump into his neighbors, their disgruntled noises doing nothing to stop his worry.

“And now, Y/n,” came the strong voice of the male announcer, and the light dimmed.

Kirishima watched as the spotlight came down upon you, a golden halo of colors against your darkened gown as the instrumentals began to play in the background. And he saw you take a step forward, the building motifs suddenly silencing when you finally sang the first note.

Despite the panic arising in Kirishima, the unknown of who was behind it all, what was going to happen, he stilled at the unmatched strength and ambiance of your voice.

You sang as you did at every stage, to every audience.

There was a reason why you were considered a legend.

And then, with one last sound, one last melody, and your hand holding your microphone dropped. Your chest heaving, tears falling down your face, and the roar of the audience was silent. You looked through the audience, unable to see, but for some reason, you just knew where Kirishima was.

You smile.

But as the looming sounds begin to fill your ear again, you find that the world is hazy.

You swallow, eyes unfocused as you bowed, hurrying to leave the stage.

Kirishima watched as you took a final stumbling step off the stage, something he felt was going to be written off as you stepped on your dress. But his mind whirled.

The lawyer felt like a setup; the contracts made no sense, the blue soju.

How were they related?

What connected them?

“Oh, fuck,” Kirishima whispered, horrified, and immediately his finger pressed to his earpiece. “Find Y/n! Now!”

Kirishima was racing through the back of the venue, the announcers' voices still ringing through the dirty, bleak hallways. You had just won but was written off as being somewhere backstage; after all, the show must go on.

Voices screamed in his earpiece, each declining to have found you. No one had seen you after you stepped off the stage. No one knew who had taken you.

Kirishima noticed the doors closing at the end of the hallway, and with a dreading sense of doom, Kirishima removed the gun from his harness. And with the devil on his heels, he ran.

Kirishima panted as he looked before him.

You were passed out, draped limp, confused, and woozy against Kimiko’s body, and two men knocked unconscious beside them. To anyone else, it looked as if Kimiko had saved you, some guardian angel within this world, but if Kirishima’s gut meant anything, he knew better.

“Kirishima-san!’ Kimiko squeaked as Kirishima raised his gun, his body tense, unwilling to take a chance on her. “I don’t know what those two were doing! I was saving her, I swear!”

“Don’t do this, Kimiko,” Kirishima whispered, his head shaking. “I figured it out.”

There was a shift in Kimiko’s face at that; the scared unknowing hero melted into one of anger, resentment, one of someone who knew they had been outed.

“So, you figured it out,” she bitterly spoke, her arms that were supporting you from behind revealing to be a firearm of your own. “I didn’t expect you to.”

“I can’t say I figured out your reasoning; honestly, it doesn’t make sense to me, but I felt like it was you,” Kirishima carefully states, his heart roaring at the implied danger of the firearm against your chin. “Don’t do anything stupid, Kimiko.”

Kimiko stares, her lips forming a small o before changing into one of a large, near unattached grin.

“Anything stupid? If anyone is doing anything stupid, it's this selfish prick!” Kimiko spits, her arms tightening around you, making you whimper ever so gently in pain. “She thinks she’s so great, so rich, so smart! Just because she wastes most of her money on stupid shit like charity! Everyone thinks working for her is a dream, but they’re all blind idiots!”

Kirishima’s eyes widen as he notices the glazed, unfocused of your eyes as you shift your attention over to him. Were you listening?

“What’s wrong with the contract?” he asks, a small attempt to diffuse the situation.

“The fact she pays me next to nothing, and yet she works me half to death!”

“You have multiple clients, don’t you?” Kirishima splutters, unsure as to what was wrong. “Why is this one contract so important you wanted to frame her lawyer?!”

Kimiko laughs; it’s pitchy, almost hysterical as she bends over, your body slumping further onto the floor. “That was a lie! All a fucking lie! Do you know that I knew no one when I first started? Y/n is a name everyone wants. I don’t need to do anything to get her things! The world wants her! But the other clients? None of them stayed, none of them wanted me past a month! The salary was okay when she was a snot-nosed brat, but ten years later?! NO! She won’t fucking listen. She never fucking listens to anything but herself! So she has the option to give me the eighty percent, or fucking die here!”

Suddenly the gun in Kirishima’s hand feels like a ton, the skin on the back of his neck crawling and slicking with sweat.

“You know how much those charities mean to her,” Kirishima whispers. “She won’t do it.”

Kimiko trembles for a second, her arm holding the firearm lowering as she looks at the wall, shaking.

“Oh my god… you’re right,” Kimiko realizes, horror and uncertainty flashing across her face. “I guess… she has to die, oh my god, she has to die.”

At that moment, the world slowed down, and Kirishima swore he could see the atoms, the electricity flowing through the space between them. Kimiko’s arm holding the gun raising back up to your temple, her smile detached, horrific yet gleeful.

His body trembled as he doubted himself, his mind unsure if the finger on the trigger was going to be strong enough to fire away. Could he do it?

Was he ready?

Actually ready?

Save her, his past whispered.

Save her, his nightmares screamed.

Save her, his heart yelled.

Kirishima raised his arm, his focus blaring, his past just for a moment, forgotten.

BANG!

“The effects of the rohypnol have already worn out. Thankfully she wasn’t given a whole pill. If she experiences any nausea or throws up, please bring her back, should anything else happen, she’ll be okay.”

The words of the doctor rang in Kirishima’s ears. For tonight, they were going to be discharging you to him. Thankfully, it was all happening in Tokyo, so Kirishima’s apartment was near, and if Bakugou was true to his word, it was clean.

With the help of hospital security, he had managed to get your tuxedo concealed body into a car, and the two of you rode off to his apartment. You’ve been silent the entire time, eyes downcasted as you sit pressed to his side, feeling like a small child compared to him. You knew that he was much larger than you, a near two feet taller, but this felt unmatched. 

Kirishima’s jacket was warm around you, it’s sheer largeness another dress on your body, and despite the horrific turn of events, you were feeling warm. You couldn’t remember much of what transpired after stumbling off stage, but you did remember Kirishima bursting through the doors, a look of anger and fear blistering off his person in such a way that made you whimper when you remembered.

You remembered the onsen basically every night, cursing your stupid makeup team for interrupting a night that definitely would have ended with you fucking Kirishima. You cursed yourself for being a coward and not just saying fuck it and fucking him afterward despite the brief awkwardness.

He wanted you, it was clear as day, and you wanted him as well.

Tonight.

“Sorry about how small my apartment is, or if it’s messy, I don’t actually know if my friends have been keeping up with it,” Kirishima apologized, guiding you into the apartment by the small of your back. “You’ll be safe here tonight, and I promise we can get back to your own place tomorrow!”

“Oh, don’t apologize, it’s okay,” you smile, feeling flushed as you cross the entryway to the apartment. His apartment, despite not being home in so long, is clean. The halls aren’t messy, and a hint of lavender is saturated to the air. The dim hallway lights were barely bright enough to cause you to squint as it was dark out. “Thank you for having me tonight, especially after everything.”

At the hospital, you had been given a pair of sweats and a cotton t-shirt. The change in outfit from your event dress was definitely needed, and even though you were sure your makeup was streaked down your face, you felt good hidden in the depths of Kirishima’s jacket.

“Are you hungry?” Kirishima asked, handing over his guest slippers, which you gratefully accepted. “I might have some microwaveable food leftover.”

“Ramen doesn’t sound too bad,” you admit as Kirishima unbuttons the first few buttons on his white dress shirt. You were instantly captivated by the movement, your eyes shifting back to his face when he began to walk off towards the kitchen.

Kirishima talked warmly, keeping the conversation going merrily and bright throughout the entire time in the kitchen. He undoubtedly knew you weren’t entirely okay, and at moments like this, you were entirely grateful for his sweet personality. 

To be fair, you knew that you had been quite unfair to Kirishima in the beginning. Looking back at the first entire month of knowing him, you were horrified and impressed that Kirishima didn’t demand to be dropped. You had been selfish, stubborn, a bottom line brat, and he took it day after day. It wasn’t that you disliked him back then; hell, you had been in a near state of delirium when he entered the door during your first meeting because you had no idea such huge men existed to the caliber of his hotness.

But you resisted and might have been harsher than needed.

It was okay now; after all, if he was genuinely bitter about that entire month still, the onsen said otherwise.

It didn’t take long for your stomach to be filled with warm broth, soft boiled eggs, and ramen noodles. Kirishima did, in fact, have ramen, fresh eggs, and some vegetables. In a grand act of preparing you the most sufficient dinner he could, Kirishima presented this under budget ramen and laughed when you said it was terrific.

But it was growing late.

The two of you still sat at his table that was full of a card game, your empty ramen bowls, and cups of water. The clock on the oven read 23:38, and the city lights were slowly dying.

“Are you ready for bed?” Kirishima eventually asked you. 

You looked up from your joined hands; your fingers had been playing with his thick and long fingers for some time now. The apartment grew steadily quieter as you studied and attempted to memorize each callous and scar on his hands. They were definitely marked and nicked, the sign of the warrior he once was.

“Depends on the bed,” you tease, lips rising into a small smile as you compare your much tinier hands than his. Your fingertips barely passed the edge of his palm. “What does a big guy like you sleep in? A twin? Tatami mat?”

Kirishima laughed, his hands twisting in yours, wrapping it around so that he raised your hands up to press a kiss to the center of your palms. 

“A futon, brat,” Kirishima explained, his smile small but sharp with his humor. “Let’s get you to bed?”

You frown. 

“Where will you be sleeping then?”

“My couch is just fine.”

“I’m sure your stuffing in a trash bag had holes in it.”

“That’s okay,” Kirishima laughed, standing up and quickly taking you to your feet as well. “It’s just for a night, I’ll live.”

Your face warmed immediately as he guided you down the hallway of his apartment before finally coming into what was definitely his room.

Kirishima’s scent was faint in this room, cinnamon, wood, and warm spices. It made your eyes flutter as you observed his room from the entryway as he began to set up the room. 

His eye for interior decoration was quite… different. You smiled brightly as you glanced around; the diverse and rather boyish decorations around the room warmed your heart. It seemed exactly like what you would think of for Kirishima. 

“Well, that’s all!” Kirishima exclaimed, his hands landing on his hips in triumph as he looked around. “The bathroom is the next door over, and I’ll leave a toothbrush out for you. I also left out a new t-shirt of mine if you want to change!”

You nod some more, watching as Kirishima seems unsure of what to do next. He looks around, coughs a bit before nodding.

“Okay, I’ll be leaving—”

“Um, can we talk?” you interrupt, arms wrapping around your body. “I have some things I want to say.”

“Oh, sure!”

“You can sit,” you say, motioning toward the bed. “I have a few things to get off my chest.”

Kirishima pauses for a bit, his eyes looking you over before he eventually nods, and he sits down. The bed slightly creaks under his weight, and you feel your body warm-up at the sound. You want to hear the bed creak more, to rock under the weight of you and him pressed against the sheets as you cried his name.

“What is it?” he asks gently, observing you.

“I just…” you huff, words failing you, your tongue feeling heavy. “I wanted to say thank you for saving me.”

“It was my job to do that,” Kirishima smiled warmly, his arms crossing again.

He was relaxed.

“I mean, I can’t even begin to believe that it was Kimiko who was behind all that, even though we know it was… I know it was,” you trail off, shivering slightly as you remember your ex-managers demented laugh in your ear. “I don’t know what I would’ve done without you.”

“Nothing would’ve happened to you,” Kirishima spoke with finality. “I promised to myself at the first meeting I was going to protect you, hell the entire world would. You’re not going to be taken down by pathetic people like that, not you.”

“Really?”

“One hundred percent.”

“I feel like I should repay you in some way, though,” you rub the back of your neck, eyes fluttering just the slightest bit flirtatious. Kirishima looked at you with full mooned eyes, his arms unfolding and his palms resting onto the bedspread.

“You repay me plenty already,” came his whispered answer, so quiet, so pure you almost smiled. “You don’t have to do anything.”

Your tongue pushes past your lip, wetting the drying skin as you take a step toward him. The shoulders of the jacket slowly fall from your own shoulders, pooling just above your elbows as you stop before him, hands resting daintily on his broad shoulders.

“And what if I want something?” you ask, finding yourself stemming with energy as his legs part, allowing you closer access to him. 

You step in closer and closer until your outer thighs are ghosting against the inner part of his.

“I think it’s in our contract for me to do everything that you request if I remember correctly,” Kirishima whispers, his bright clear red eyes turning a burnt shade: dark and ever consuming. 

“And if I want you to finish what you started over at the onsen?” you press, fingers curling against the muscles of his shoulders before locking behind his neck.

His nose was brushing against yours, cold yet burning against your own skin.

“I’ll gladly show you what I wanted to do that night,” he grunts, eyes deadly, and for the first time, his hands held your waist.

You took a second to recover, your skin sparking with the electricity of his touch, and you suppressed a shiver as you opened your eyes.

“Do it,” you cement your fates, “coward.”

And just like that, in a movement so euphoric, Kirishima’s mouth crashed against yours.

His mouth was hot, dangerous against yours -- a live wire sparking with uncontrollable energy and heat as your mouths danced. Hot puffs of air were passed between your mouths, your fingers shaking with an undeniable release of tension and want. 

The kiss was sloppy, desperate, so needy with unspoken frantic determination to fuck each other until the other could no longer move. 

Kirishima’s hand removed the jacket from your arms, letting the expensive material fall onto the floor with a heavy thud. Despite the lack of warmth the clothing provided, the feeling of Kirishima’s hands rubbing against your bare arms sent your mind spiraling.

“Get on the bed,” Kirishima commands against your mouth. “Let me fuck you.”

The words were nearly embarrassingly desperate, but the tone of his voice spoke of the absolute domination he wished to assert on you. He wanted you in one exact way, and you had a feeling you knew what it was. But if he had been paying attention, Kirishima should already know that getting you to listen was not easy.

“No,” you grin against his mouth.

Kirishima pulls away instantly, his lips red and swollen as he replays your word in his head. He looks frazzled, absolutely delirious already at the simple, passion-filled makeout. As soon as his eyes clear away the fog, your grin drops, and instead, you look at him with fierce determination and defiance. 

“No?” he repeats.

“No,” you confirm.

Your chest feels light, your head spinning as the hands on your waist tighten, and his eyes flash dangerously. The tip of his tongue pushes past his lips before quickly disappearing again. 

“Of course, you’re a brat in bed too, such a fucking princess,” Kirishima shakes his head, but his mouth curving into a shark-like grin. 

Menacing, promising, sending chilling shivers down your spine.

The world spins faster than you can keep up, your mouth opening to shriek as Kirishima easily lifts you up, and has you lying against his lap. 

“I’m going to let you in on a little secret, princess,” Kirishima begins, his large fingers hooking into the waistband of the sweats you have on and the panties you’re wearing. “My princess gets rewards for being good. If she can behave properly, she gets to be fucked with dick, her pussy gets to be fucked just the way she pleases.”

You can’t help but stifle a moan that threatens to spill out with his words and the way his hands move down the curve of your ass, exposing the naked skin to him. The waistband of both your panties and sweats stay high up your thighs, and it’s almost embarrassing to know you’re still so clothed despite what’s to come.

“And just what does the Sergeant do to bad girls?” you ask, unable to keep your tongue down, your hips rolling against his lap in undeserved friction.

Unexpectedly, abruptly, a hand comes down harshly onto your bare ass.

The contact is rough, stinging against your ass as you cry out in slight pain.

The hand not currently rubbing a warning circle into your ass twists the hair at the top of your head, lifting your head up so that your ear could near his mouth.

“Bad girls get punishments. They get what I want to give them. Nothing more, nothing less.”

“Holy shit,” you whimper, heat flaring between your thighs at the thought of Kirishima doing anything to you regardless of if you were good or bad. You rut your ass back against his hand, longing for a heavier touch, a plea for something more.

“What does the princess want?”

“Nothing,” you bite, and the crashing smack of another spank has you moaning loudly at the stinging pleasure-filled pain. 

“You moaning like a whore at a simple spank says otherwise,” Kirishima chuckles darkly, his fingers pinching your stinging ass as your body bucks against him. He spanks you again, again, and again. Each slap is intentful, powerful, wanting to get you to admit what you want, and you cry against your hands each time, your eyes fluttering as the pain feels good. 

“Of course, a slut like you would be getting off on this,” Kirishima seems amused, his thick finger pressing to the slit of your cunt, spreading your dripping essence against your cunt. He presses against your entrance with just the tip of his finger, and you shriek in a sound for more, your hips jerking backward to get his finger into you, to fuck you with those thick fingers to do something about the growing desperate heat. 

“Kirishima!” you scream, your body sweating and twisting on his lap, desperate to find some way to get him to finger fuck you. 

“Ah, there we go,” he sighs in delight as his fingers swirl at your entrance, increasing the teasing and making your mind spin. “Tell me what you want, brat.”

“You!” you wail, two of his fingers carting between your wet, sloppy heated lips. They graze your clit, stimulating you further as you can do nothing but instinctively jerk against his hold, trying to get him to give you the needed pleasure to build up to an orgasm. “I want you to fuck me so good! Please, Sergeant, please, I want you to fuck me until I can’t remember anything but your name.”

“But you haven’t proven to be a good princess,” Kirishima tuts, his hands disappearing from your pussy despite your crying pleas. His hand grabs your ass, though, massaging the abused skin, grasping it tightly.

You moan, embarrassed at the sensation of his massive hand easily cupping your ass cheek, your fingers fisting into the fabric of his pants as you shake your head.

“Are you going to prove that you’re good?” he asks you, his tone like that of a parent chastising a child. “Gonna prove to me that you can be good?”

You shake pathetically against his legs, but you can’t keep yourself from shaking your head. You can’t prove to him that you would be.

“I can’t!” you whimper loudly, your body twisting on his lap to look up at him, your eyes filled with tears and pleading need. Kirishima looked down at you with lust filled eyes and an undeniable need to be followed.

“You can’t?” he repeats, his head tilting, eyes narrowing, and his fingers dug into your ass. “Or you won’t?”

You tremble on top of him, unable to answer because you weren’t ready to hand over the reins just yet. You didn’t want to submit so fast, you wanted to make his own head dizzy with need but the stubbornness to continue punishing you the way he was promising.

“I won’t,” you gasp, eyes fluttering at the way he finally drops your head.

You gasp loudly as you find him shoving you off his lap, and with your panties and sweats sitting so awkwardly high on your legs, you find yourself tumbling off his lap and onto the floor.

“Guess if you don’t want to behave, I’ll treat you like some fucking pussy pocket and dispose of you once I’m done,” Kirishima easily breathes, and you look up at the now standing man as he tears his shirt off.

Your mouth waters, your cunt throbbing at the sight of the rippling muscles and dark lines of his tattoos on his upper body. You watch fascinated, like one does to a masterpiece, as he undresses until he’s in nothing but his socks. And at the sight of his dick, you can feel at once all the blood in your flushed face drop directly into your throbbing cunt.

He was fucking enormous, his girth barely fitting into his hand, and the angry red head spilled its precum against his abs. A black happy trail connecting Kirishima’s abs to his vein throbbing cock.

Holy fuck, he could quickly kill you with that.

Kirishima doesn’t ask any questions as he watches your awkwardly dressed state of a body on the floor. His head is tilted upwards, a small pleased smile on his face as he looks down on you, his hand slowly, leisurely fisting his cock as you can do nothing but stare.

You make some insane noise at the back of your throat at this sight, your thighs trembling with need, and you're pushing off your side, your ass burning, and your balance off as you open your mouth, offering all you could to him.

And thankfully, Kirishima allows it.

He’s much too tall for you to suck him off on your knees, so he sits back down onto the bed, letting you scamper between his legs, mouth open wide like some needy pet.

“Such a good little slut,” Kirishima sighs, sinking his cock into your wet, hot mouth. “Such a fucking cockwhore, all it took was a single glance for you to lose your will.”

You whine against his dick, your jaw tight with the stretch, your tongue lapping so desperately around the cock that was no more than halfway in yet couldn’t go in any further.

“Suck me right, and I’ll reward you by fucking that pretty little pussy of yours,” Kirishima grunts, his fingers pressing into the side of your neck as he ruts his hips up into your mouth, shoving his cock even further into your mouth. “And don’t you dare look away from me while you suck me off.”

It feels like fire.

His cock driving down your throat hurts, the taste of his salty pre-cum slathering all over your tongue and dripping out of your mouth with the saliva you can’t control. His cock hits the back of your throat, and you continue to bob your head, continue to fuck him with your throat as animalistic, praiseworthy noises begin spilling from Kirishima’s mouth.

You whimper at the sight of his head dipping back, and you nearly whine when he shoves the fingers he had gathered your juices on into his mouth. He moans at the contact and with his pleasure with your actions so obvious as you choke against his girth. That was hot, holy fuck, you wanted him to fuck you, please fuck you. 

Your eyes close as he begins to fuck faster into your mouth, his delight in hearing you choke around him his driving force. Tears start pouring from your eyes despite your best efforts, your throat and inner thighs burning with lust and need as Kirishima groans, his cock twitching deep in your throat.

Slap!

“Hey!”

Slap!

You gag harshly as your cheeks sting with his heavy slap, your teeth grazing underneath his cock, right against a thick, twisting vein.

“Did I tell you to close your eyes?” Kirishima practically growls, his hands grasping the back of your neck, the other one slapping you across the face yet again. “No. I said… fuck… I said, keep your eyes on me!”

Tears weep down your face, your eyes struggling to keep focus on him as he continued to fuck deep and intensely into your mouth, shoving himself further into you until you could feel his thighs grazing your chin. Oxygen wasn’t flowing anymore; your gags and chokes the only time the burning element could manage to flow through you, but Kirishima doesn’t seem to care. He seems to delight in the way you are, despite it all, are moaning and looking at him in a pleading way for more.

More, you plead.

And he delivers. 

Kirishima pulls his still hard, not yet cummed, dick out of your mouth and stands. 

You splutter with the sudden intake of oxygen to your lungs, burning you from the inside out as you splutter on the ground.

“W-What’s going on?” you hoarsely stammer, your jaw and throat aching from its prolonged abuse. “E-Ei?”

However, Kirishima seems dead set on getting you naked, and you squeal in flustered excitement as he rips the shirt off of you and his mouth pressing against yours again. His mouth crashes against yours, and you moan into his mouth immediately.

His tongue curls into your mouth and your tongues press and rub against each other. Each passing second growing more desperate, needier, more intense as your clothes are ripped one by one off your body.

“Holy fuck, I’ve wanted you for so long,” Kirishima nearly whines, his mouth trailing down your neck, biting and sucking against every centimeter of skin he passed. “Wanted to fuck you against the wall, in my bed, and now I get to do that.”

“Please, please, fuck me, please,” you beg, your voice bordering a wail as your arms wrap around his neck, letting him lift you up off the floor. Despite you being so much smaller than him that when he held you to him, your cunt wasn’t pressed to his angry leaking cock, you continued to desperately roll your hips against his abs, the friction welcomed and easing the building pressure. It was an action conveying just what you wanted. “I need you in me, Sergeant!”

“Just cuz… holy fuck,” Kirishima breathes ragged, his body twisting around, and you cried when the cold sheets pressed into your back. “Imma fuck you, Imma… god, just fucking watch.”

Your head thrashed back onto the pillow as Kirishima’s teeth sunk into your collarbone, then captured your sensitive nipples, his fingers dancing against your clit and teasing your center. 

“Now!” you cry, fingers digging into his shoulder. “Put it in!”

This time, Kirishima didn’t need to be told twice.

His larger body was suddenly pressed entirely against yours, dwarfing you immediately as your arms wrapped around his back as his cock slammed into you. You screamed at the sudden intrusion, your pussy stretched beyond its typical limits by his girth, his size, his power.

Your cunt throbbed around him, your face buried within his pecs as you, despite the searing pain, shove your hips up towards him. Fucking into him, sucking him further into you.

“Holy shit,” Kirishima groans, “you’re amazing.”

“Talk less, fuck me more!” you screech, your body spasming, twitching so hard from the splitting pleasure and the lava pit in your stomach, and Kirishima does that exactly.

His hips begin to meet yours in equaled power, slamming into you so that the bed creaked beneath you. He fucked you until he had to hold a hand on your hip so you could stay there, and you kept a hand on the wall to continue to push yourself down onto his cock.

You screamed with pleasure, cried for more, Kirishima’s shark-like smirk getting bolder, darker, hotter with every slam of his hips until his tattooed right arm shot down. His hand wrapped around your throat, choking you.

“You’re so loud, princess,” Kirishima moans, clearly liking your loud noises, “but you’re going to wake everyone in Tokyo.”

His hand around your throat is enough to have your legs trembling around his waist, your choked and muffled moans and splutters drowning out even more as he pressed a kiss onto you. He kissed you, licking your mouth, and devouring your every word and thought. Your core twisted, tightened, and burned. It throbbed and clenched with it’s impending orgasm, and your body began to tense to the heavens as his cock throbbed deep within you.

“Who saved you?”

“E-Ei did,” you garble.

“Who’s fucking you?”

“E-Ei is!”

“Who’s going to fucking cum when I tell her to?”

“Me! Fuck, me!”

Kirishima laughs, his arms wrapping around your waist, and in one final, fleeting burst of strength, fucks into you with his own power, needs, and desire, and you can only take it. “Cum, princess,” he whispered almost sweetly against the top of your head, and it was all over. Your teeth sink into his chest as you scream, a blinding white light erupting through your vision as you cum around his cock.

Kirishima whimpers, his cock still pushing deep into your cunt, until you can feel the warm spill of his seed in your womb.

He collapses to the side of you, taking you with him so that you were resting on his sweaty chest.

“Holy shit,” Kirishima whispered after a bit, your body already warm and too lethargic to notice the star-like tone to his voice. “That was fucking… holy shit.”

“Does this mean you like me?” you half tease, half wonder.

There’s a pause, a silence, and you wonder if maybe he had fallen asleep.

But he didn’t.

“I’ve been in love with you for some time now, I think,” he admits, his hand beginning to rub small circles into your back.

You find that despite the exhaustion, warmth floods your cheeks.

“Oh?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, I guess we’re going to have to discuss a more… permanent and maybe different contract tomorrow morning, huh?”

Kirishima chuckles, and you find yourself smiling into his chest.

“I think we do.”

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

bb / gg, m | jjk

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

summary: Jeon Jungkook is the lead singer in a rock band and failed his Biology class last semester, so he has to take remedial classes over the summer. You're the Biology TA, double major in Psychology and Biology, watching him freak out over his make-up exam because he had overslept. Both of you are surrounded by rumors. Does the title stand for bad boy / good girl or bad bitch / good guy? Who knows.

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; not the healthiest dynamic tbh; slight angst due to perceived unrequited love; smut (fem reader, D/s dynamics, begging, scratching / marking, choking, handjob (he is still wearing underwear), multiple orgasms, cowgirl, hair pulling, edging / orgasm denial, cock ring usage, m-masturbation, cum-eating); non-idol!BTS – rock singer, sub!Jungkook x studious, dom!reader

yes, it's SOWOOZOO JK, both the first yellow tropical look and the shredded black shirt look; for those who wanted him to be dom!JK, there is a moment when he is but not in the way you think because that's how I operate

--

Jeon Jungkook was a bad boy.

Wore too much black, dyed his hair too much, had tattoos, always had girls hanging around him. Sang in a rock band on the weekends, played electric guitar, played the game of how-many-numbers-can-I-get tonight? Never gave a girl his leather jacket to wear but was happy to buy her a drink and flirt with her until she got hot with arousal.

You were a good girl.

Always wore a blazer. Crisp white dress shirt and pleated skirt underneath, usually in a dark color. Sensible heels, but always heels. Did too many units a semester because you were double majoring in psychology and biology. Always arrived to class early, always turned in your assignments on time, always turned in your tests early and aced that shit. Took physics with calculus even though you didn’t have to because it was the harder one and you wanted a challenge.

-

Against the wall, shoving a fist into the neck, lips to lips, teeth snapping, hand travelling down, whimpering pleas and harsh growls, keep crying, I like it, ecstasy and pain, nails to skin. Tearing clothes off, biting, marking, I own you, and then, yes, you do, mouth and tongue, aching pleasure, cocked eyebrow, mocking the pathetic whines and cries, stopping right before the end, no, please, I’ve been good, and, you take what you get, hand fitting onto the neck, squeezing the sides, eyes rolling back, skin to skin, bruising slaps that would be seen tomorrow in the mirror, traced with shaking fingers and pants of an open mouth, moaning at the memory of sky-high pleasure while lightheaded and thoughtless, desperate to do it again.

-

There was a rumor.

Everyone liked Jeon Jungkook. He had two smiles, an endearing one and a teasing one. Both encapsulated the kind of person he was, honest and playful. He always sang with conviction, he rapped with savagery, and his lyrics were always from the heart. He always hung out with his bandmates after their performances at bars and interacted with those that came up to him. No one ever said Jungkook was mean or rude in any way.

And yet.

There was a rumor.

A rumor that Jeon Jungkook was taken.

He was the kind of guy that always made sure a drunk girl got home safe even though he didn’t know them. Paid for their taxi and everything. He focused a lot on his music and writing lyrics he thought would connect with others while taking into account his band members. He always told the truth if a girl confessed to him, saying he wasn’t looking right now, that he was very sorry if she thought otherwise, that there was someone he was already interested in.

-

“Oi.”

You slammed a hand onto the tabletop and Jeon Jungkook jumped, the shredded black shirt he was wearing falling down his shoulder, revealing his ink black tattoos on his tan skin. He was wearing a black tank top underneath.

“What’s with you? You missed the exam for your remedial class and you’ve spent the past ten minutes spacing out at your make-up exam,” you barked, pointing to his empty exam sheet. “You haven’t even filled out you name.”

Jungkook swallowed hard. “S… Sorry.”

You frowned. Why was he apologizing to you? Honestly, why did you sign up for this summer TA position again? Oh, right, money and credits. Hmph. It was really just an excuse for the professor to slack off while you did the tedious things like grading and watching over idiots that skipped class. Sorry, overslept. Hung over, probably, since this was the Jeon Jungkook. Rockstar, hottie, famous in his own way.

Whatever.

He could be Jesus Christ and you would still be scolding him for missing his remedial Biology exam.

“Fill out your name so at least I can fail you properly.”

Not that it mattered, since you knew who he was. He didn’t know you knew who he was, and you had zero incentive to inform him that you were indeed aware of the existence of black-haired, tattooed, chiseled-jaw, sparkly-eyed Jeon Jungkook, all due to the constant snide remarks that followed you in your wake.

You wouldn’t be such a bitch if a guy like Jeon Jungkook put you in your place.

Who the fuck was Jeon Jungkook?

This guy, this weirdo about to fail his fucking Biology exam in front of your face.

Impatiently, you rolled up the sleeves of your gray blazer and grabbed a chair, dragging it up to the table. You snapped the chair down and sat in it, smoothing your skirt. You liked to be neat. Even though university didn’t have a uniform, you liked to keep some sort of uniform for yourself. There was a sense of security in knowing you didn’t have to select an outfit every morning. Today, white dress shirt, gray blazer, pleated black skirt that hit slightly higher than mid-thigh. Every other outfit was some variation of this and, in the winter, you wore thick stockings.

You clicked your heels together under the table sharply.

He flinched at the sound.

Jungkook wasn’t looking at you. He was mumbling at his paper.

“I… I think I studied the wrong chapters…”

You clicked your tongue. Jeez.

His hand was shaking so bad that his pen was practically vibrating. You leaned over the table, grabbing his fist to still it.

“Stop.”

Your bare knees hit his bare knees, mostly because he was wearing black jeans with giant holes in them. Jungkook froze, head snapping up, silver earrings jangling, black hair flying, undercut visible for a second.

“You want to pass this class or what?”

He nodded quickly in response.

“Good. I want to get out of here. Keep your mouth shut. Answer to the first question is A.”

His eyes widened.

“Are you… helping me cheat?” he whispered, terrified.

You cocked your head, letting go of his hand. “You said you studied the wrong chapters. I’m not spending forty-five minutes of my life to watch you panic and then ten minutes more failing you,” you replied lowly, dangerous edge to your voice.

“I… couldn’t… I mean…”

You shoved his knees open with yours, narrowing your eyes as he yelped, pleading look in those brown doe eyes. You pressed your knees on the inside of his thighs, keeping them open.

“Answer to the second question is C.”

When Jungkook didn’t move, you reached over and cupped his chin. Felt his racing heartbeat pounding through his veins, coursing through your fingertips. Stared deep into those eyes, lowering the octave of your voice, keeping his thighs spread for you under the table.

“Listen to me,” you murmured softly. “Okay, Jungkook?”

“O… Okay…”

And he did.

-

There was a rumor.

Nobody liked you. Maybe it was because of your high scores ruining the class test average. Maybe it was the dismissive way you spoke to people, almost demeaning. Most likely it was a combination of the two. Students talked behind your back all the time, spreading rumors. Friends? What friends? You had an average of twenty class credits a semester. You didn’t have time to make friends. And besides, why try to make friends when clearly nobody wanted to be your friend?

And yet.

There was a rumor.

You ignored such things. You didn’t need such distractions.

-

“It would be too suspicious if you got full marks. This score is high enough.”

“O… Okay…”

“Get on the table.”

Jungkook scrambled on the wooden tabletop as you pushed his exam aside. You were still sitting in your chair. Your head tilted, eyebrow lifting at his speedy response to your rather suspicious request.

“You listened.”

He blinked at you. “Uh… yeah?”

Silence.

“Why?” you finally said.

Jungkook gulped. “Be… because you asked,” he mumbled, knees on the table, hands clutching his knees.

“You can just walk out and report me.”

He shook his head quickly, black hair flying everywhere. “I don’t want to.”

Your other eyebrow raised. He chewed on his lip, a flash of pink tongue in his movement.

“Tell me what you want. I’ll do it.”

Well.

You decided to test his conviction.

“Edge of the table. Spread your legs for me.”

Instantly, obediently, Jeon Jungkook surprised you by doing it, putting each leg on either side of you, chunky black sneakers hanging down. Shredded black shirt open, hands behind his ass, towering over you, and yet his eyes were watching you, waiting for more, begging for instruction.

“Hm.”

You raised your chin, seeing his impressively muscular thighs and body displayed for you to take. He was so close you could smell his clean, dreamy scent, like a meadow in summer dusk, surrounded by peeking stars and blinking fireflies. Interesting.

But you didn’t need the distraction.

“That’s it. You can go now,” you said dismissively, about to push your chair back.

His legs closed in, pressing firmly into your upper arms. Your eyes flickered up to him.

Jungkook shook his head very slowly.

“Do what you want.”

You saw his chest rise and fall, his silvery voice deepening, pupils expanding.

“I know you want to do something to me.”

His erection was bulging against the zipper of his black jeans. Your eyes went back to his face. He shivered at your sharp stare. All of this was happening in an otherwise empty lecture hall, with you and Jungkook at the very bottom.

Just you and him.

You placed your hands on his thighs. He jumped a little, but scooted closer to you. You slid your hands up. You undid the button of his jeans, scrutinizing those brown eyes. He raised his hips to help you as you pulled the zipper down.

“You don’t know me,” you finally said, no inflection in your voice.

He didn’t look away. “I don’t care.”

“Hmm.” You smirked. “Bad boy, aren’t you?”

Jungkook shook his head slightly, but didn’t break eye contact as you pulled his pants to his knees and reached for his black boxer briefs. “No. I’m a good guy. I want to give you what you want.” You hooked your fingers over the waistband and nicked his skin with your nails, making him gasp, the pleasure evident in his tone. He did not try to hide it from you. “I want to be good for you.”

“Why is that?”

He hung his head a little.

“Something about… how you make me feel…” he muttered. His gaze finally faltered. You reached up and righted his chin, forcing him to look at you. Saw that Jungkook had a mole under his mouth, perfectly in the center. He had a nice shape to his pink lips. You tapped his cheek, nudging him to elaborate. “You… You’re so pretty… and smart… Everyone looks up to you because you have such good grades…”

You doubted that.

Jungkook probably had no idea that most of the school hated your guts.

You didn’t have classes with Jungkook, but you were sure he knew your name because your name was posted on the Dean’s List of the highest-ranking students of the university every semester. Also, you weren’t hard to miss. Every student moved out of your way when you walked through the halls, whispering behind their hands.

Jungkook brought you back to the present.

“I feel,” he whispered, voice trembling, gaze locking with yours. “I feel like I want to be on my knees for you.”

His skin was warm under your nails.

“Like this is where I belong, in your hands.”

You stood up.

Jungkook started, turning into a tight squeak as you placed your hand on his chest and pushed him down.

“Lift up your shirt with both hands.”

He did was he was told, revealing his toned abs and the lower half of his pecs, biting his lip, clutching onto his tank top, ears turning red as he craned his head to look down at you. You didn’t give him any satisfying response. His tan skin seemed to glow under the overhead lights. You studied his face.

Reached up and began to rub his erection through his underwear.

“A… ah…”

“Gonna make you cum like this.”

He shook his head quickly. “P… Please, no…”

You felt him swell and twitch under your hand. He was pretty big. Thick. Pretty boy with a pretty dick, probably. You rubbed the head with your palm, feeling his pre-cum leaking through the thin fabric. He wasn’t kidding when he said you made him feel some kind of way.

“Why not? Make you cum in your underwear and then you have to go all the way home covered in it. All dirty, just for me.”

His handsome face twisted with sinful pleasure at your suggestion, whimpers in his throat. His cock jerked with need, wanting it.

“O… Okay. Whatever you want.”

So obedient.

“So obedient, Jungkook,” you purred, rubbing faster.

He nodded. “For you. Only for you. Just for you.”

Was it just saying those things because he thought that was what you wanted to hear? Or was that how he actually felt? Surely not the latter, considering he didn’t really know you. You leaned over him, placing your free elbow on the table to stabilize yourself. You hadn’t even kissed him.

“You’re so hard for me,” your drawled, lowering your head, letting your warm breath float down onto his skin. “You want to cum for me, don’t you?”

“Y… yes, please…”

“You want to be my toy?”

You pressed your lips to his bellybutton, feeling the smoothness of his skin, tasting it. He moaned at your kiss, your swift tongue flickering out to that delicious skin, whining when your teeth nipped at the softness. Fuck, he tasted so good that you wanted to mark him. Looked so fucking good that you wanted to mess him up, mar him with temporary imperfections on the perfection that was Jeon Jungkook.

“Yes…”

With breathless, lustful conviction.

You licked up his abs, increasing the intensity and speed of rubbing the engorged head of his cock, the pre-cum already soaked through and creating a slippery surface, turning Jungkook’s pitched whines to deep moans, a melody that filled up the entire lecture hall until was the only thing you could hear, Jungkook’s moans as you bit his skin, his moans as you sucked on his skin, moans as you kissed the hard muscle, cries for more at you left marks, pleading for you, sweet and beautiful, clutching his shirt so tight that his knuckles were white, the black tattoos of his right hand standing out, his cock throbbing in your hand, his hips rising to hump your palm, your name on his lips, over and over and over.

“Gonna… gonna cum…” he panted, sniffing slightly, cheeks flushing pink. “Gonna cum like how you want me to, all over my underwear…”

Your fingertips touched his side, seeing him stiffen and then shudder at your gentle caress.

“Do it,” you murmured. “Show me how good you are at listening, Jungkook.”

He bit his lower lip, jaw clenching, squeezing his eyes shut, tipping his head back into the tabletop, whining your name in his chest, your palm working him, slick and hot and hard, pulsating under your roughness. With a sharp moan, his lower lip popped out of his teeth, dark red and swollen, small mole quivering.

“F-Fuck…!”

You felt it and heard it, the unmistakable jolt and squelch as his orgasm splattered inside his boxer briefs, drenching the fabric, drenching your hand, his embarrassed whines as he realized what he had done but still humping your hand, forcing out every last twitch of dribbling cum, causing you to smear it everywhere, coating the sensitive head and adding to the pleasure, his cheeks flushed red, eyes squeezed shut to savor the pleasure and avoid looking at you.

“Shh…”

You crawled onto the table, still holding his cock through his soiled underwear, squeezing it, free hand slipping under his head and lifting him, his eyes weakly opening, scared and anxious, but all you did was lean down and kiss him, pressing your lips to that pure softness, exhaling his name into his mouth, his scent staining your hand, his cologne filling your nose, your whisper in his throat.

“Time for you to go home.”

-

Jungkook thought you would tell everyone.

You did no such thing.

Instead, you ignored him.

He would see you three times a week and, three times a week, you arrived with the professor and left with the professor. Jungkook tried much harder to attend classes, but you seemed not to care either way. He would come to the front and collect his assignment and find that you had marked it up exactly like everyone else, red marks all over his incorrect answers. You didn’t even look in his direction.

The next exam was coming up quickly.

Part of him considered skipping exam day to have one-on-one time with you again.

“Jungkook.”

He jumped, jerking his head towards the hall, confused. Somehow, he had heard your voice. Or rather, did he imagine it? His teeth sunk into his lip, placing a hand on his forehead, confused. His head was confused. He couldn’t think straight. Why had he done such an embarrassing thing with you? Even you had told him to leave and report you. But Jungkook just couldn’t. Not then and not now. He had asked for it.

He still wanted it.

Nobody knew. Everybody thought he was a cocky, womanizing playboy. And he was, but not because of the sex. It was only because he was bored and that was all he could get. There was power in being on top.

And there was power in letting go.

You were bad for him.

He was a good guy.

You were a bad bitch.

And nobody knew.

A hand slapped down on his shoulder and yanked him around, the loose short sleeves of his yellow tropical shirt flaring out, making his sunglasses rattle on his face. You narrowed your eyes at him. Instant shivers down his spine at your stern gaze.

“Are you deaf?” you snapped. “I’ve been calling your name for the past minute.”

“I… S-Sor–”

You waved a hand dismissively, grabbing his right hand and slapping down a post-it into it.

“Chapters for the exam, including the date and time. Do not miss it this time. I will not let you make it up and fail you on the spot.”

You turned on your heel, letting go of his hand.

His left one shot out and circled around your arm, his rings pressing into your skin.

“Wait.”

You jerked your head towards him, glaring sharply. “Don’t touch me.”

And you yanked your arm out of his grasp, but his legs made the choice for him, following your swift strides, his backpack hanging off one shoulder, clutching the post-it and his last strands of sanity.

“Please, wait.”

“What?” was your curt response, not looking back at him.

“Please do it again,” he gasped breathlessly, unable to stop himself.

“Do what?”

“Have your way with me.”

You stopped walking.

Jungkook walked straight into your back and banged his nose on your head. He winced, stepping back and rubbing it gingerly. He didn’t register you turning around until it was too late and you were right in his face. You raised your chin and eyebrow simultaneously.

“No.”

He blinked rapidly, his tinted sunglasses halfway down the bridge of his nose.

“W… Why? Did you not like it? Was… was I bad?”

You let out an amused scoff.

The side of your lips curved upwards.

He had made you smile, even if only a little bit. Just that small thing was enough to feed his courage.

“I…” Jungkook coughed, clearing his throat before he spoke again, voice still a soft whisper in his embarrassment even though no one was around to eavesdrop. “I can be better. I can do better.”

Silence.

He thought you were going to walk away again.

You reached up and plucked his glasses off his nose. Folded them neatly and tucked them in his tropical shirt pocket. Then your eyes found his again and he knew something was different. He could see you clearly now, his vision no longer clouded by sienna.

Now, Jungkook could no longer stop it.

He could feel it all over him, coursing through his veins, arousal like fire. Something about you and something about him. Jungkook could sense the danger, but he didn’t want to run even though he knew he should. He had heard the rumors surrounding you. They could be true.

And yet.

“I want it,” Jungkook breathed, inviting himself into the danger. “I want you. I want to be your toy.”

Your discerning expression didn’t change.

You reached up and gripped his chin, digging your nails into his soft skin.

He whimpered in his chest, moving closer to you.

“What’s my name?”

His brows furrowed, saying your name hesitantly.

You pulled his chin down so he was eye-level.

“Next time you say my name, I will be choking it out of you.”

-

Everyone thought Jeon Jungkook was the kind of guy to grip your wrist with his left hand and your throat in his right, his lips against your ear and his sweaty chest against your back as you slapped your ass into his crotch and fucked yourself with his rock-hard cock, his smirk in your ear as he provided you with a certain type of encouragement.

“That’s right, you want this dick, don’t you? Show me. Prove to me you want it.”

His fingertips tightening against the sides of your neck, listening to your pathetic cries and moans as you tried to squirm against him, brain running out of oxygen due to lack of blood, running out of thoughts, running out of pleas as Jungkook gripped your wrist, deep snarl against your hair as he roughly finished himself off using your body because that’s all you were, someone to be used by him and nothing more, neck suddenly released with a breathless gasp and shoved face first into the sheets with his right hand splayed on your back, his tattoos and your orgasm crashing down on you, his growls staining the air and a fierce jerk of his hips to spill into your tight hole and leave you moments after, nothing but a discarded toy in his eyes.

You thought.

That was what everyone thought when Jeon Jungkook stood on stage, flipping his dark violet microphone between verses and smirking like a devil, truly in command of every thought and every pair of eyes on him, surrounded by a heavy bass line and deafening drums, guitar solo tearing through the moment to emphasize the next of his lips nearing the mic again, entrancing the crowd with his beautiful lips and talented tongue.

No one knew.

-

You were riding him hard and fast, torn condom wrappers and used condoms littering his bed, back-to-back orgasms, his head pressed into his pillows, your hand around his neck, the other leaving long lines down his chest, scratching him so hard that it dotted red, blooming lines of pain.

“Don’t stop, please don’t stop, f-fuck…”

Jungkook was hoarsely whispering, clutching his sheets, black hair soaked with sweat, raising his chest to your nails, whimpering, punish me, punish me, punish me, and you muttered plainly with a sharp edge, you talk too much, your grip tightening again, pressing onto the sides of his neck, cutting off the blood flow, and Jungkook moaned gratefully, eyelids fluttering, the slap of your hips to his louder and louder, filling up his whole bedroom, rattling his bedframe, fucking him so hard he was slowly sliding up to his headboard.

Your name fell from his lips in pure ecstasy, back arching to shove his whole length fully into you, thick and hard and twitching with need, your slick walls clamping down on him, fitting to him with a hiss. He began to match you, breathless, lightheaded, world hazy, moaning from deep in his chest, I love you, and your reply was only tightening your grip, your hand and your pussy, harder, harder, harder.

“Aren’t you such a good guy?” you scoffed sarcastically, letting up for only a second to let him reply, blood rocketing back into his brain, flooding him with oxygen, and Jungkook sucked in a lungful of air, reeling.

“N-No…” he panted. “You’re the good girl… you’re always s-so… so good to me…”

His eyes locked with yours hazy with lust and love. You almost looked away out of instinct.

“You a-always remember… what I like…” he managed to choke out.

-

You left him when you were done using him.

You pretended he didn’t say those words to you. There was no point in acknowledging the nonsense that he said in the middle of being choked and barely functioning. You tapped your pencil against your textbook.

You caught yourself thinking about him.

Jeon Jungkook.

Your eyes flickered to the clock. Late at night on a Friday. He was probably at a bar. You watched the second hand of your plain silver clock tick, tick away. You never asked to watch him and his band perform even though Jungkook always made it a point to text you the address and the time.

It was obvious Jungkook didn’t want you to be his secret.

He wasn’t really your secret either. You just saw no benefit to letting anyone know there was a connection between you and Jeon Jungkook. After all, you were just using him.

You stopped tapping your pencil.

Stared at the second hand.

Tick.

Heard the voices of the rumors poisoning you, saying the things they said.

She thinks she’s so much better than everyone else because she’s a nerd.

The only reason she has good grades is because she fucked that one professor.

I heard she dated him.

I mean, there’s a reason he left in the middle of the semester, right?

He had a wife!

Snap.

Your eyes flickered down.

The tip of your pencil lead rolled across the page, leaving tiny pinpricks of granite.

There was never any evidence because nothing happened. Nothing happened between you and said psychology professor. He left in the middle of the semester because his wife had a miscarriage and he wanted to be with her. It had nothing to do with you. You had long discussions with him about life and existentialism, hanging out during his office hours.

Sometimes, you felt bad.

Had you kept him from his wife? Would it have not happened if he just skipped his office hours and didn’t spend them talking to you? These were irrational, foolish thoughts. They made you guilty even when there was nothing to be guilty about.

He was a nice guy, mid-thirties. Everyone liked this professor.

They blamed you because they didn’t know.

Only you knew, because he told you with tears in his eyes and thanked you for being his student.

You didn’t tell anyone, because he did not owe you an explanation and you were not going to divulge someone’s personal business that they had shared with you in confidence. You watched your reputation crumble and fall apart, watched friends ostracize you, because you didn’t tell them anything and they didn’t believe you. You watched yourself turn bitter and hateful.

Just tell the truth.

There was no truth to be told.

You put your pencil down.

Closed your eyes.

Remembered Jungkook’s face.

-

Your hands were in his hair, pulling hard. His hot breath was in your face, arms shaking as he held himself up, fucking you into his mattress with whines in his chest, begging you, begging you, begging you.

“P-Please… let me cum, please…”

You liked to watch the sweat clinging to his high cheekbones and neck, jaw glistening with tension, feeling his strong body between your legs, his twitching hardness sliding into you repeatedly in rough, hard smacks, squeezing him every time he was fully sheathed inside you, vibrations coursing through you every time he came down.

“Not until I’m done,” you growled and he whimpered, pleading look in those brown doe eyes, black pupils expanded, unable to cum because a vibrating cock ring was restricting his orgasm, keeping him hard but unable to climax, sending thundering pleasure through him and into you. He watched helplessly as you gripped his hair, hissing sharply as another wave of pleasure overtook you, closing your eyes to savor it, savor his swollen cock twitching inside you as he felt the intense massage of your pussy walls closing around him, throbbing around the head and driving him insane, moaning pathetically because he couldn’t follow suit no matter how desperate he was.

Jungkook didn’t ask if you were done.

He just kept going because you told him he couldn’t cum until you were done.

And you didn’t say you were done.

You stared into those brown orbs, hazy with lust and full of conviction to be good for you.

Desperate to be the best and the only one, not knowing there was no one else because no one else wanted you like the way Jeon Jungkook wanted you.

“Pull out.”

“B-But…”

“You heard me,” you exhaled, throbs of pleasure still trembling through you. Your hands slid down, cupping his chin, nails digging into his sweaty cheeks. “Obey.”

With a pained whine, Jungkook obeyed, pulling out of you, his cock covered in your juices, wearing a condom and the black cock ring. You reached over with one hand to press the button on the remote to turn in off.

“Take it all off. Let me see your cock.”

He reached down and slowly pulled the cock ring off, taking the condom with it, whimpering at the sensitivity, his tone hitting a lovely pitched groan as the silicone squeezed the base of the head. His whole body was shaking as it fell from his hands, the veins on his length standing out, head purple-red and angry, white pre-cum slowly beading at the tip, and his face, looking down at you, waiting for your next move.

Cock waiting to be used.

You tapped your chest.

“Cum on my tits.”

“B-But–”

You cut him off.

“You’re going to cum on my tits and then you’re going to lick it off while I watch.”

-

He listened.

Jungkook straddled your waist with his thighs, muscular and defined, right hand wrapping around his cock, sweat making the tattoos on his forearm and shoulder glow in the low light, smelling like sex and musk, his core tightening as he touched his overstimulated length, using the lube of the condom and his own pre-cum to add to the pleasure as he began to stroke himself, moaning as you lifted your hands and cupped your breasts, pushing them together, his eyes on the curve of your cleavage and points of your hard nipples sticking out, and then your face, an indifferent look with a cocked eyebrow, taunting him, unimpressed by his timid grip on his cock, so he squeezed harder, tighter, embarrassing cries falling from his mouth, living for the smirk that slowly began to form on your lips.

It empowered him somehow, that smirk, the little inkling of satisfaction that Jungkook wanted, needed, craved, knowing he was doing well, being good, furiously pumping his aching cock over your pressed-together tits and he couldn’t last, couldn’t help it, too overstimulated and too turned on, too in love with this to prevent himself from tipping over with a hot gasp, spilling streams of sticky white lines over your breasts, spreading them everywhere, making a huge mess because he wanted a huge mess to clean up, shoving the head into your cleavage and shuddering at the sensation of warmth to his scorching heat, able to feel the pulse of the engorged tip dripping out what was left, shivers up and down his spine, the words falling from his mouth that he never stopped saying even though you never acknowledged them.

“I... l-love you…”

He stayed like that for nearly a full minute, but you didn’t tell him to get off.

His eyes were closed, savoring the feeling.

Slowly, Jungkook gingerly removed himself, lowering his body over yours, tongue sliding out, touching your skin covered in his cum, his taste, mine, no one else’s, him on you, lapping it up, salty and bitter and yet he loved it, loved that you told him to do it, loved that you let him paint your skin with his orgasm and now his saliva. He didn’t care that you never said anything to his I love you, didn’t care that you seemed to pretend he never said it, because he would continue saying it when he was with you, hopeless as it was.

It was the small things that kept him going, sucking his own cum off your nipple and wrapping his lips around it, hearing your soft sigh of pleasure, feeling the tap on his thigh that instructed him to scoot up, the small thing of your hand closing in on his spent cock, sending sparks of pain but also pleasure, moaning into your skin as you massaged his balls with your fingers, knowing that he could take more pressure and roughness because he had just came, the small thing of your thumb rubbing the sensitive slit, his face pressing into your breasts, smearing his cheek with his cum and saliva, sliding across your slick skin because of the intensity of the high it gave him, the pleasure and the pain, his right arm coming up to wrap around you, tattoos cradling your torso.

“I love you…” he whispered to your racing heart under his ear, lost in the rhythm of your heartbeat and the firmness of your touch. Jungkook did not care if you hated him saying it.

He would continue saying it as long as he was with you.

-

“What are you doing?”

“Nothing…?”

“Hmm.”

He placed his hand over the bottom of his phone and smiled at the cute girl that was talking to him at the bar.

“Sorry. I have to take this call. It’s important to me.”

He didn’t hear her response, because he backed away, bowing lightly, pressing his phone back to his ear.

“Ah, never mind, Jungkook.”

“No, no. What is it? Tell me.”

“You’re at a noisy place. It’s Saturday night.”

Jungkook pushed through the people, mumbling his apologies and straining to hear your voice over the thundering bass. “I finished. Well, we finished. We’re only drinking. I can leave at any time. I’ll just text the guys to bring my equipment back for me. Where are you?”

“Forget it.”

He opened the door of the club as the dial tone rang in his ear.

Looked up.

Your hand dropped to your side. You were still in your white dress shirt and navy skirt, dressed exactly like you were when at school minus the blazer. Jungkook’s eyes widened. He was in a torn-up long-sleeve shirt with the right sleeve removed, showing off his tattoos. His black hair was wild and half-wet, and he was wearing tight leather pants.

You clicked your tongue.

“I said forget it,” you repeated hollowly.

You sighed and turned around, skirt swishing in your wake.

“Wait, I’ll come with you–”

“Go back to where you belong, Jungkook.”

His hand closed around your forearm, holding tight.

“I belong with you.”

You stopped walking, silent.

“What is it? Tell me.”

You scowled. “It’s dumb.”

“So am I, remember?” he chuckled, his hand slipping down, squeezing yours. “I’m not very good at school.”

You didn’t say anything for a moment. Cars and people brushed past, but Jungkook was focused onto on your stillness, watching your eyes seemed to be thinking about many things. You hadn’t pulled your hand out of his yet. By now, Jungkook knew that if you didn’t want something, you wouldn’t be shy about telling him right away.

You started walking again. Jungkook was still holding your hand.

“It was just a moment of weakness,” you mumbled under your breath.

“A guy…?”

You didn’t answer.

Jungkook squeezed your hand. “It’s okay,” he murmured tightly. “I understand.”

He did not. He wanted to cry.

Your eyes shot to him, pinning him in place. “You don’t understand, Jeon Jungkook. You understand nothing.” You pulled your hand out of his and Jungkook let go, trying to hold his pain, trying not to breathe because he was preparing himself for the inevitable, the moment you were going to break his heart and, if it was right here and right now, then so be it, because he had said how he felt repeatedly and there was nothing more he could do than that.

He loved you so, so bad.

Jungkook knew he shouldn’t, that it was madness, but he did anyway.

But you surprised him.

Your sharp gaze softened.

“You know what they say about me. You have to know,” you exhaled, shaking your head. “You must know the rumors.”

Good girl gone bad.

Jungkook frowned. “About you and the professor?”

He watched your jaw clench.

“Does it matter?” he asked.

Your eyes shifted, not quite looking at him.

“Whether something did or didn’t happen, what does that have to do with me?”

And now you looked at him, guarded, not letting him know your thoughts.

“You…” He swallowed, trying to press the lump down in his throat. “You’re just using me, right? It doesn’t… doesn’t really matter, because in the end I don’t matter to you anyway… right?”

He did not want to cry and yet he did, because he knew he loved you. It was the small things, the way you never let up on him even in class, the way you picked days that were never the weekend and never before exams, the way you would brush your fingertips on his knuckles before leaving when you thought he was asleep, the way on the last time, the last time you were together, that you pressed your lips to his forehead when you thought he was asleep, running your fingers through his hair.

Jungkook was standing outside this bar and there were people he knew walking past, seeing you and him, but he kept his eyes on you, because the only one that mattered was you.

The one he belonged to was you.

He had decided that when he climbed onto the table that day.

He stuck his hands in his pockets and let out a heavy breath. “If people say things about you, then they say things about you. Whether it’s the truth or not doesn’t change the fact I love you. It doesn’t make me love you less,” Jungkook said, speaking at his usual volume, because there was no reason to whisper the truth. “Even if it’s pointless and crazy, I want to be with you until the day you don’t want to be with me.”

His smiled and blinked back tears.

“Even if that day is today, I will never regret it.”

In this cruel summer, you could have ruined his reputation. You could have told everyone the kind of person he really was and you didn’t. You could have spread embarrassing stories of the things you made him do and you didn’t.

Even if he didn’t matter to you, Jungkook was confident that you weren’t a malicious person.

You rubbed your forehead. “The rumors will come to you.”

Jungkook laughed. “So what? I heard a rumor that I removed two ribs so I could suck my own dick. I admit, I considered doing it after hearing that.”

You scowled, but Jungkook only smiled in return. He could see the tension falling from your face with his comment. You clicked your tongue and tilted your head, as if to say, can’t be helped.

“There’s no other guy,” you muttered. “There’s just you and you’re dumb.”

Jungkook blinked rapidly, confused.

“You say it over and over and make me think about it all the time.” You sighed heavily, running a hand through your hair. “I’m not a good girl. People pushed me away and I stayed there instead of trying to repair the burned bridges. I don’t even think I want to repair them. Who knows what will happen next? I don’t think it would be a good idea to put you through that shit.”

You sucked on the inside of your cheek, looking at him apologetically.

“You’re not the bad boy everyone says you are. You’re a good guy. You should find a good girl.”

Is that what you think? Jungkook chuckled, taking out his hand and rubbing his nose thoughtfully.

“I don’t want a good girl.”

He stepped toward you, lowering his hand and his head so that he was eye level with you.

“I love a bad bitch who can push me around and makes me their toy.”

He tilted his head, small curve on those beautiful lips, tiny mole underneath appearing with every smile.

“Which can only be you, you know.”

Jungkook didn’t try to kiss you. He only wanted to look into your eyes so you knew his conviction.

“I love you.”

You raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah, I’ve heard you say it.”

He nodded. “And I’m going to keep saying it until the day you leave me.”

Silence.

Ah.

Your eyebrow lowered and you gave him an indifferent look.

“Hm. I wonder when that will be, Jungkook.”

You leaned in, but before you kissed him, he heard the whisper against his lips, felt the shape of yours as they brushed against his, words he prepared himself to never hear from you, words that he thought you would never say, and that was fine with him, because you showed it, and that was enough.

He thought.

“I love you.”

And then your lips on his and his tears fell onto your cheeks because Jungkook wanted to cry all this time and he could not stop now, knowing that he was so, so in love with you and you finally, finally said it back to him.

--

masterpost

[yespolkadotkitty]

Kinktober Day 4 - shower/tub sex

I skipped Day 3 - nipple play - because I had a hella busy weekend and bc nipple play isn’t particularly my bag.

May I present a brief break in our regular programming for some light Shang-Chi fluff/angst/smut.

Pairing: Shaun/Shang-Chi x fem! HCP reader

Words: 675 ~ Warnings: angst, swears, very soft sex. No use of y/n.

**

We’re back.

The text from Katy turned your world upside down. You stared at the screen for a moment, willing words to transfer from your brain to the screen, but there were too many. Finally, you typed: Where is he?

You watched the little dots that indicated Katy was typing.

His place.

I’m at mine. So, you know, if you wanted to go over-

Katy had long been at you to confess your feelings to Shaun.

You stuffed your dirty scrubs in the hospital wash bin, thankful that you were just ending a shift, not just starting one. You wouldn’t have been able to concentrate on patients knowing that Shaun was back.

The garbled message from him, punctuated by traffic noise - I have to go away for a while, explain when I’m back - had set you on edge for weeks.

You didn’t know whether you wanted to deck him or kiss him. Maybe both.

On Day 8 of his hiatus, you’d let yourself into his place - you, he and Katy all had keys to each other’s homes - and snuggled into one of his hoodies, falling asleep on the couch.

You took the bus to his place, alighting at the familiar stop and weaving through a farmer’s market. The sun was low in the sky, and the humid air made your nervous sweat more acute.

You knocked his door in a pretence of being polite, when you wanted to hammer it down.

He didn’t answer, so you let yourself in.

As you shut the door, you heard a groan from further in the apartment. You dumped your bag, and spied a trail of clothes on the floor. Your blood heated.

He’s probably in the shower.

I should go.

But you didn’t.

“Shaun?”

No answer.

You stepped into the tiny hall. The bathroom door was ajar, and without thinking, you pushed it open.

Shaun turned, surprise in his brown eyes as he mouthed your name.

“So it’s true,” you accused. “You are back.”

“I’m sorry-”

You barely took in the fact he wore only boxers and holy crap he was built. “You’re sorry? It’s been four weeks! I thought you might have died-”

His mouth settled into a firm line. “Katy was with me-”

And that was a sore point. “I know! You took Katy, but left me behind-”

“-She didn’t give me much of a choice-”

You shoved him, dead centre of his chest. “You could have asked-”

“It was going to be dangerous-”

You opened your mouth to shoot back a reply, but no words came out. Finally, you whispered, “I thought you were dead, Shaun. I thought you were dead, and I’d never get to tell you…”

Realisation dawned on his handsome face as you gazed at each other, and then, then, he pulled you into his arms and you sobbed against his chest. His skin was warm and firm and you cuddled in, crying nonsense words.

“I wanted to tell you,” he murmured into your hair. “But I was supposed to do what - just ask a doctor to leave her patients for fuck knows how long?”

He had a point and you hated that.

“I wish you’d been with us,” he added. “I saw my father. And met my Aunt. And Katy’s a crack archer now.”

You jerked your head up. “You - what the hell? Where did you go? What did you do?”

Shaun sighed. “I have a lot to tell you. But right now, in this moment? I’m more interested in hearing what you thought you’d never get to tell me.”

“You really don’t know? You’re an idiot. I let myself in while you were away and slept on your couch.” You poked him in the chest to punctuate each word of the last sentence.

Shaun’s brows winged up. “You-”

“I love you, you absolute-”

You never got to finish because Shaun cupped your face in his hands and kissed you. Whisper-soft at first, and then when you opened for him, the kiss turned hungry. You clutched at his shoulders, then slid your hands into his hair, gasping when he settled his hands under your ass and boosted you up. Your legs came around his waist and - holy shit, he was into this, if the evidence against your belly was any indication.

“I love you, too,” he panted, at length.

You nuzzled his neck, breathing him in. “Ugh, I wish I could wash the hospital off me.”

Shaun nodded to the shower. “Well, I was about to get in there…”

Your pulse rocketed. “Yes.”

This was not how you had pictured your day ending when Katy’s text had come through, but right now, you were elated.

Between kisses, Shaun undressed you hurriedly, and you helped him along, getting a case of the giggles when removing your leggings tickled your thighs. The laughter might have made you feel uncomfortable with another man, but this was Shaun, who sang terrible karaoke and made you ramen on your days off and shared his Pocky with you.

When you were naked, he pulled you close, his dark gaze drinking you in.

“You’re beautiful.”

How you’d dreamed of hearing those words in his deep voice.

“You’re not so bad yourself.” You tugged at the waist of his boxers. “Could use less clothes.”

He grinned, cheeky and confident, and your heart pounded at how handsome he was, and how much you wanted him. “Help yourself.”

You did, and he was long and thick and ready, and you watched him struggle for control as you wrapped your hand around him, kissing the groan off his lips.

“Shower, now.”

He turned the water on and tugged you inside, shutting the glass door, and you were cocooned in his arms under the hot spray. You lifted your face for his kiss and he obliged. Steam fogged up the glass and it was like being in your own private world.

You learned each other’s bodies with tongue and teeth and hands, and he left you breathless, until you could only moan his name, your hands in his hair as he did his best to spell his name on your clit with his talented tongue.

When the orgasm broke over you, he lifted you as your legs shook, braced you against the shower wall, and slid home, and it was all you’d ever wanted. He was all you’d ever wanted.

“Shaun,” you groaned against his neck.

He smiled into your hair. “It’s Shang-Chi.” At your puzzled hmmm, he added, “We have a lot to talk about, but it’s hard to think when you’re naked.”

You pulled him back in for another kiss. “Okay. We’ll think later.”

---

Unbeta’d.

I’m not sure who from my list would want to be tagged in this but I do think @astroboots​ will like it.

[blackacre13]

hiii, could you do a prompt where debbie comes home only to find a very very horny lou riding a dildo in their bedroom floor so she punishes her by making her keep riding the dildo while she fucks her ass w a strap till she cant take it (bonus if theres ALOT of dirty talk) <3

I’m sorry I was such a tease this morning. Let me make it up to you?

Debbie considered the text for a moment before looking down at her watch with a smirk. If she left now, she could beat Lou home from the club and set up a surprise, which was even better than going for the makeup sex route. Lou wouldn’t know what hit her.

“Tam,” Debbie cleared her throat. “If that’s it, I’m gonna head back to—“

“Lou?” Tammy rolled her eyes. 

“The loft,” Debbie snapped. “It’s getting late.”

“Riiiight,” Tammy nodded. “Whatever you say, Deb. Go ahead. Head back into the city. Just tell Lou I say hi if you ever manage to come up for air.”

“Shut up,” Debbie hissed, snatching her trench coat off the couch as she threw her bag over her shoulder.

“Love you too,” Tammy sang.

Debbie wanted to play mad for a second, even if it was pretend, but she couldn’t keep the excitement off her face as she grabbed Lou’s keys, practically jumping into the Toyota, stilettos slamming on the gas as she raced out of suburban hell and towards the city.

She considered her options. She only had an hour or so once she made it back. Lou wasn’t keeping late nights out at the club like she used to since Debbie had been back, making it a priority for them to have time together and have some sense of normalcy between the two, like family dinner, as if that small little gesture made up for the fact that they were high profile criminals, but it made Debbie’s heart flutter all the same.

She wanted to surprise Lou, but it was hard to throw someone for a loop who knew you like the back of your hand and vice versa. If she got in the shower, she knew Lou would climb in after her the second she heard the water falling. But she could also wait in bed so the blonde saw her the second she came upstairs to kick off her boots and change into some boxers and a t-shirt. The question was: sexy lingerie or completely naked?

Being able to surprise her partner made her positively giddy and she couldn’t believe that this was who Debbie Ocean was now. Even more, that she was thrilled to be this person. But she wouldn’t have changed it for the world.

Her heart was thrumming in her chest, fingertips drumming against the steering wheel until she was finally back at the loft, parking the truck and sprinting into the apartment, darting up the steps before taking a deep breath to gather herself. Lingerie, she thought. Something new that Lou hadn’t seen yet. She had her own secret stash she’d started in an abandoned closet drawer that she kept adding to every time she found a piece she knew would drive the blonde crazy.

Excited to surprise Lou with a little something, and she meant little, Debbie swung open the bedroom door, her mouth dropping open in shock as she found Lou on the floor, moaning and grinding, one hand steadying herself against the ground, the other massaging one of her breasts, her t-shirt bunched up and stuck underneath her arm, creamy skin exposed from her ribs to her toes, as Debbie’s eyes seemed to glaze over at the sight, the blonde none the wiser.

Debbie watched for a moment in awe as Lou rocked herself forward, the brunette realizing that she was Fucking herself against a dildo, Debbie’s brain practically short circuiting as she watched, her panties growing wet as Lou cried out.

“Fuck, Debbie! Fuck, your strap feels so good. I’m—“

“Couldn’t even make it to the bed?” Debbie asked, suddenly unable to keep quiet anymore, her thighs rubbing together of their own volition as she stood in the doorway, clit twitching and nipples hard just at the sight of the blonde.

“Debbie,” the blonde gasped, turning towards the doorway.

“And here I was thinking of how to make up for my teasing this morning,” Debbie breathed walking closer to the blonde as she looked down at her. “Looks like you figured out a way to take the edge off, baby.”

“I’m not sorry,” Lou laughed, tugging at Debbie’s blouse, trying to pull her level to the ground with her where she still sat, kneeling against the floor, her nipples poking through her t-shirt making Debbie swallow thickly.

“You’re very distracting like this,” Debbie whispered, her eyes trailing down to between Lou’s legs, where the dildo still sat, completely inside the blonde, her thighs clenching it tight, not moving.

“I couldn’t help—“

“I know,” Debbie smiled, brushing her hand through the blonde’s hair before kissing the crown of her head, her face gentle and soft as Lou looked up at her, eyes fluttering closed.

“Debs,” Lou breathed, rocking back slightly against her heels.

“You don’t have to stop,” Debbie smirked, looking down at the blonde as she squirmed.

“It feels too good,” Lou whispered. “I had—I needed—it felt so Fucking good imagining you inside me like this. Fucking me hard.”

“Tell me,” Debbie whispered, combing a section of Lou’s hair back as she tugged it tight, pulling her head back as the blonde gasped. “You were getting ready to go into work. Something stopped you. Something made you feel good. Too good. So good you couldn’t concentrate. Couldn’t get dressed. When was it? Were you slipping on a new pair of pants? Realized your panties had been soaked all day? Wettest you’ve been in ages? Did you swipe your fingers through your folds because you couldn’t believe how god damn wet you were? Thinking about me? Holding your fingers up to your mouth and sucking on them. Wishing it was me cleaning you off? And then you needed those fingers inside you. Needed me inside you. But even that wasn’t enough. Was it?”

“Fuck,” Lou cried out, her nails digging into Debbie’s thighs behind her as she rode the dildo, grinding against it with a fury.

“You want me inside you, baby?”

“Yes, god,” Lou panted, still rocking her hips, crying out again. “But I—“

“I know,” Debbie cooed, brushing her hair back. “You don’t want to stop. It feels too good.”

“But—“ Lou protested, interrupting herself with another deep moan as her eyes rolled back, Debbie moaning with her at the sight, letting go as she threw off her slacks and thong, sprinting over to the dresser and pulling out Lou’s weathered harness, grabbing one of their dildos as she pushed it through the ring, tightening it against her before she got down on her knees, crawling towards the blonde. “Debs?” Lou panted, looking confused for only a moment before Debbie was pushing her forward, the blonde gasping as Debbie threw herself against Lou’s back, taking the dildo in her hands and driving it into the blonde as she let out a string of curses, grinding forward even harder, the sound of slick wetness sounding through the air as Debbie slammed into her, her hips slamming against Lou’s as she spanked her.

“You’re so naughty like this,” Debbie hissed. “So rebellious. Two cocks inside you, Lou? You dirty girl. So needy for me. So wet for me.”

“Fuck, Debbie. Deb, I can’t, I’m—“

“Come on, baby,” Debbie hissed. “Come hard for me, Lou.”

[lavenders-writing]

swimsuit shower

synopsis: you’re on vacation at a hotel with katsuki, sharing a room with denki and jirou

pairing: katsuki bakugou x reader

warnings: none

category: fluff

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

You could go on and on about the effectiveness of swimsuit showers. They were fast, efficient, and didn’t use as much water as it would if everyone showered separately. Of course, you could only have two people shower at a time (three if you were feeling ambitious, but then one person would be left out, and you guys couldn’t have that, could you?), but it was still better than everyone doing it separately. If you did that, there were sure to be complaints about the cold water, and you didn’t want that, either.

So, that led to you tugging on Katsuki’s arm and practically begging him to  take a swimsuit shower with you. You two had been dating for a while now, so you figured he wouldn’t mind. He had seen you in your hero costume, and you’d spent all day with him at the beach, so it would be just fine.

“Hey, you either do it with me or her,” Denki said, gesturing to Jirou. He knew full well that you’d do it with Jirou in a heartbeat.

Katsuki sighed. “True. Fine.”

As you ran to get a change of clothes, Jirou caught your eye and winked. She was wrapped up in a towel on the desk chair.

You shook your head at her. Nope. No, no, Jirou. No sexy time today. Not for a while.

You quickly turned to grab the clothes and an extra towel.

The grins Jirou and Denki wore were shit-eating, and they’d pay.

After definitely not slamming the door to the bathroom (it wasn’t you; that was all Katsuki. You would neeeever do such a thing. Ever) you turned on the water as he took his swim top off.

And you definitely didn’t pretend to adjust the temperature because dang he was good looking and who knew what would happen if he caught you staring.

“Are you done?” he asked.

You turned to him, thanking the mirror for backing you up in having a great view without me staring directly at him. “Probably. Yes. The water- it’s on.”

He gave you a look. “I- yeah, I can tell.”

Salty air and equally salty water had mussed your hair beyond belief, so you took some time to brush it out as he got in the shower.

“Bet you didn’t know you’d sign up for this when you agreed to come on vacation with us,” you told him as you stepped into the shower, grinning. “It’s one of our benefits.”

He raised an eyebrow. “I’m not sure I’d call it that.”

He was hiding a smile. You knew he was.

“Well, you agreed anyway,” you sang, taking the soap bottle from his hands. “And now you’re here.”

Showering, with you, his bangs plastered against his forehead and soap on his hands, rolling his eyes at your words.

Wow. You loved him.

“Yeah, now I’m here. Wonder who’s fault that is.”

“Mine.”

“Yep.”

The both of you spent the next few minutes in comfortable silence as you washed your bodies and occasionally smacked each other’s arms and backs with soapy hands. You even cupped his cheeks in your hands and pressed a quick kiss to his temple. He didn’t have his usual bite in his voice, probably due to how much you had done today and how tired you were. It was calming.

“You’re cute,” you whispered, before taking your hands off and leaning away.

He knocked his hand against the side of your head. “And you’re an idiot.” But he was smiling.

“Rude. And even after I complimented you,” you complained.

He rolled his eyes and reached around you to grab one of the bottles on the shelf (you’d already knocked over at least three of them in your attempts to maneuver around each other).

“This is the one you use,” he said, as if he’d decided for you.

But he was right, it was in fact the shampoo you used, and now you were wondering how he’d figured that out.

“Yeah?”

“It is.” He pointed to the words, which read ‘Lavender Mint.’

“Huh. Didn’t know you’d memorized my shampoo flavor.”

“Wh- flavor??” You grinned, and he smacked your shoulder. “Turn around.”

“Why?” you asked, doing so anyway.

“Gonna wash your hair.”

“Aww, do I have a simp for a boyfr—“

“You’re about to have no boyfriend if you call me that again.”

You shook your head, grinning. “Nah. You wouldn’t actually leave if I did.”

“Wanna test that?”

You elbowed him in the ribs.

“You have to use a shit-ton of shampoo,” he complained, spreading it through your hair. “Your hair is so thick.”

A sly smile spread across your face. “But not as thick as this ASS—“

He jabbed your spine and you yelped, before he brought his hands back up and continued.

It was probably the most relaxing thing you’d ever felt. The water was warm and so were his hands, and you closed your eyes, letting him rub the shampoo through your hair. And, to top it all off, he was good at it, too.

“You’re weirdly good at this.” You opened one eye. “You practiced on other people?”

He smacked your arm. “No. I have my own hair, you know.”

You reached over your shoulder to pat his head. “I’m aware.”

He pushed you toward the water. “Go rinse.”

As you did so, he shampoo’d his own hair, refusing your offers to do it for him.

“Please?” you tried again. “I’m good at it. My hair is very sexy and cool.”

“Mine is fine on its own.”

“You’re just being stubborn.”

“Maybe.”

“You definitely are. Please?”

He sighed, and dropped his hands to his sides, which you of course took and proceeded to thread your fingers together.

“I’m getting the soap on my hands,” you explained.

“Sure you are.”

His hair was really soft. I mean, it was soft when dry, but somehow it had the superhuman feat of seeming soft when wet, too. Maybe it was the shampoo. You couldn’t tell. But it felt really cool, and you kept working your hands through it to try and figure out what was going on.

Katsuki reached up to tap your wrist. “I think you’re done,” he murmured.

You couldn’t help but smile. His posture was so much more relaxed, and a smile played on the end of his lips as he looked at you.

It made you want to kiss him. But this wasn’t the time or place.

You did the same thing for the conditioner, taking the time to rub it through each other’s hair and making it take a little longer than normal, using the excuse of “I’m making sure all the sea salt is out.” You mumbled that excuse into each other’s ear, even when you were sure you had done a good enough job.

By the time you finished, all you wanted to do was sit with Katsuki and maybe, just maybe, kiss him a little. But no. Not in a shared hotel room when the exhaustion of the day had finally hit the two of you in full. You would definitely be taking a nap, instead.

Katsuki got out and changed first, then you did. You combed out each other’s hair with only mild complaining on his part.

If you were completely honest, you barely acknowledged Jirou and Denki when you came out. The last clear thought you had before completely passing out was resting your head on Katsuki’s shoulder, and his fingers threading through your hair.

“We should do that more often,” you mumbled, and you felt him nod.

[13uswntimagines]

Loose Lips Sink Ships (Soran X Swift!Reader)

Request: The Next Instalment of the Swift!Reader Universe where everyone finds out that the reader is dating Emily and Lindsey. Basically, 5000 words of the reader getting caught in compromising positions, having deep conversations with her sister and teasing some too invasive fans. 

Other Parts of the Swift!Reader Universe

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

Taylor considered herself a very perceptive person, especially when it came to you. From the time you were little, she could read you like a book. She knew to look for the tilt of your head when you were curious, or how you scratched the back of your neck when you were nervous.

But this, she had never seen before. Your thumbs twiddled on your thighs, patting out an erratic pattern that didn’t match any of your favorite songs, and your feet were tapping out a completely different beat. You also kept tucking your chin, completely refusing to make eye contact with her. 

It wasn’t just tonight either. It was for the entire week you had been staying with her in her Manhattan apartment. She didn’t know if she could take another three weeks of you sneaking off to the terrace to make phone calls at midnight. 

She sighed, turning away from the stove to lean over the island, taking a long drag from her wine glass and eyeing you carefully. 

“Alright, what’s going on with you?” She asked, raising an eyebrow at you. You blinked up at her with owlish eyes. 

“You’re acting weird,” she added with a shrug, turning to whatever she was making on the stove. 

You took a large gulp of your drink and swallowed hard. You didn’t think you had been that obvious, but then again Taylor knew you better than anyone (well, there were two people who probably knew you as well as she did). Soon enough they would be just as good at getting information out of you as Taylor was. 

“I’m just tired. Pre-season and national team duty are kinda kicking my ass,” You mumbled, rubbing the back of your neck, praying to god that she would take this excuse. 

She nodded, tapping the spatula on the side of the pot before turning back to you and picking up her glass again. “I’m sure the media pressure isn’t helping that,” 

You shrugged.“Everyone just expects me to be you, and it’s a lot sometimes,” You mumbled, absentmindedly circling your fingers over the rim of your glass. 

Taylor’s eyebrows furrowed. She could tell you weren’t telling her everything, but if this was the route you wanted to take, then she wouldn’t miss a chance to reaffirm you. 

“I know, and I’m sorry for that,” She said softly, reaching across the island to gently grab your hand. 

You finally looked up at your sister, echoing her sad smile, and noting the worried crinkle by her eyes. “It’s not really your fault,” 

She nodded. “I know, but all I can do is tell you how amazing you are as many times as I can,” 

You held her gaze for a few more seconds, her seriousness giving you no reason to doubt her sincerity. 

It didn’t matter what the media, or your family, said about your career. Taylor maintained that you were just as good, simply because you were you. She was your greatest champion and most trusted confidant. 

You nodded, and she squeezed your hand before turning back to the stove. She knew pushing you to talk about what was really bothering you wouldn’t help. You would come to her when you were ready. 

You watched her thoughtfully as she put the final touches on dinner, checking on a tray in the oven and stirring the things on the stove. 

You were comforted by the familiarity of it, but the little voice in the back of your head reminded you that you also enjoyed this position when it was a different blond cooking for you (and the way Lindsey teased her while she cooked). 

The three of you had been together for nearly eight months, and recently you had all decided that maybe it was time to stop hiding. The first step was telling Taylor, but you weren’t really sure how. 

Your heart thumped in your chest at the thought of your two favorite women. Your girlfriends, you reminded yourself. They made you feel so many amazing, and terrifying things you had never felt before. Taylor always sang about those emotions, and you wondered if this was what she was talking about. 

“Can I ask you a question?” You asked softly, and Taylor paused her stirring on the stove. That was always the cue you used when you wanted to have a serious conversation. When you were nervous about whatever the answer would be. The last time you had asked that you wanted to know if she would be upset if you skipped college in favor of going pro.

Her opinion mattered to you more than anyone else’s. 

“You know you always can,” She said, avoiding looking over her shoulder (towards where she knew you were worrying your lip between your teeth). 

“How did you know you were in love?”  

Taylor paused, a pan halfway out of the oven, at the completely unexpected question. She should have seen this coming, she had seen the way those two looked at you. 

She cleared her throat, straightening and setting the hot pan on some oven mitts on the counter, before turning her full attention to you. She took in how you seemed so hunched in on yourself, your eyes still glued to your glass. 

“Well, She made me feel warm and bubbly like there was a hot spring in my chest. When anything happened, she was the first person I wanted to tell,” 

You blinked up at her, your eyebrows furrowing. “Like you were addicted to her? Like when she smiled, it finally felt like you could breathe?” You rushed out and Taylor let you, giving you to work through your emotions, before she pulled you into a tight hug.

You had a very bad habit of bottling everything up and pretending that you were fine (something she was sure her career choice - and your mother- didn’t necessarily help). 

“Did you feel scared of how much she made you feel?” You leaned into her touch, sighing when she ran her fingers through your hair. 

“In the beginning it did, but then it was freeing when I realized that she would be there to catch me,” Taylor said, kissing the crown of your head. 

You closed your eyes. You didn’t doubt that they would catch you, but the feeling of falling was terrifying. You were in deep and keeping it from your sister was difficult. 

“Dinner looks amazing and I’m starving,” You mumbled, and you felt Taylor sigh. She had gotten a little out of you, but definitely not enough to curve her curiosity. All in good time. 

“Let’s eat,” she said, kissing your hair and standing to make you two plates. She still had 2 weeks to get the rest of the story out of you.

****

You were in absolute heaven. Trapped in between the two warm bodies of your girlfriends, one set of lips moving with your own and another trailing kisses lightly down your neck.

Emily and Lindsey had spent one of their free days (between Adidas and other sponsor commitments) hanging out with you, and you couldn’t be happier. You spent the day exploring the city and checking off a massive list of stereotypical couple things the city had to offer. It had ended in a very romantic dinner at a little pub on the lower east side, and now some amazing kisses in your room at your sister’s apartment. 

Lindsey’s hands slipped under the front of your shirt, her nail scratching lightly up your tummy and ribs as she pressed herself further into your back. You sighed into Emily’s mouth, tilting your head to both give her a better angle on your mouth and give Lindsey more room in your neck. 

“Hm, we’ve gotta stop. Tay will be back soon,” You mumbled when Emily pulled back and turned you so Lindsey got her turn too. 

You felt Emily sit up behind you to get a good look at the clock. “You said we had till 12, it’s only 11:15,” you could hear the smirk in her voice, even as she kissed your ear and made her way down to the patch of skin on your neck she knew drove you wild. 

You bit your lip. It was one thing to ask your sister for relationship advice, and a complete other for her to walk in on it. 

Lindsey gently brushed a strand of hair behind your ear. “Do you wanna stop?”

Emily paused as they both waited for your answer. It was sweet and comforting how they always made sure you felt safe and that you were enthusiastically consenting to whatever you were doing. 

You shook your head and pouted. “No,” 

Lindsey sent you a very indulgent smile, her thumb gently rubbing over your cheeks. “Then less talking, more kissing,” 

You giggled into the kiss, a shiver running down your spine when Emily continued her ministrations in your neck. 

You hummed into the kiss, very much enjoying how their bodies felt pressed into yours. God, it was like you just couldn’t get enough. It was so easy to lose track of time with them. It wasn’t until a loud slam of the door and your sister calling “Y/n, you here?” That you finally pulled away from the women. 

“Shit! You two have to hide,” You squeaked, practically leaping from the bed. You threw Emily’s pants and Lindsey’s shirt towards the women on the bed, who were moving way too slow for your liking. 

“Where?” Emily asked, tripping as she tried to hastily shove her legs inside her pants, while simultaneously glancing around your room in search of a suitable hiding space. 

“I don’t know! Figure it out,” You said over your shoulder, taking a deep breath to hide your panic before you exited the room. 

You carefully closed the door behind you, she would have zero chance of getting any information out of you). 

“Hey kid, how was your day?” Taylor asked from the couch, looking over her wine glass at you. She opened her arms, and you immediately went to burrow into her.

“The best. I went out exploring,” Your entire face brightened (Taylor wondered if it was because you got to experience the city, or from the person, she was sure you experienced it with - ie the person(s?) who had left the hickey’s all down your neck). 

“Where’d you get that shirt?” She asked after a few minutes, pinching the grey sweatshirt (which conveniently had a number 9 and the USWNT logo on it). 

You blinked down at your outfit, your eyes widening, at your outfit, a pair of Emily’s Thorns shorts and Lindsey’s sweater.

“Oh, Umm,” you stuttered, racing to come up with a response when a bang echoed from your room. 

Taylor’s head snapped in the direction of the sound “What was that?”

“Nothing Tay,” You winced at another loud thump followed by several giggles. 

She raised an eyebrow at you and stood to go investigate for herself. She didn’t mind you bringing a significant other home (especially if they made you this happy) but she didn’t want them hiding from her. 

“Are you going to tell me, or am I going to have to go find them for myself?” 

You crossed your arms like a petulant child and pouted. “I also spent the day with Emily and Lindsey,” 

“And?” Taylor asked, slightly confused. She liked the women and she thought you knew she would approve. Hell, she had practically given them the shovel talk already.

You sighed, hunching your shoulders. “They’re hiding in my closet because we were making out when you came home,” 

Taylor giggled at how absolutely pitiful you sounded. She patted your shoulder “Well, I think the closet is a terrible place to hide. How about you get them out here,” 

You nodded and stood to go retrieve the girls, slightly afraid of what Taylor was going to say to them. 

“And y/n,” she said just as you got to your door. 

You paused and turned towards her “Yeah?” You asked, tilting your head to the side. 

“I’m happy that you’re so happy to be dating them,” 

You smiled so wide that your cheeks started to hurt. It felt like a weight was lifted off your chest. No matter what happened going forward, Taylor supported you (even if you were sure she was about to give them one hell of a shovel talk and set up some serious boundaries). 

You nodded and entered your room. Perhaps it was about time that you all came out of the closet. 

******

You weren’t quite sure how you always got yourself into these situations. Maybe it was that you, Em, and Linds barely got to see each other outside of camp during the season, or maybe it was because the three of you were so sickeningly in love that you couldn’t keep your hands to yourself. 

Whatever it was, you, Emily, and Lindsey couldn’t seem to keep your hands to yourself (especially after you came out to your sister). 

Even now, with the no girlfriends rule at camp, you found yourself pinned to the elevator wall by Lindsey’s hips, thoroughly enjoying the way Emily’s tongue was exploring your mouth (shivering slightly when Lindsey hit the sensitive spots on her neck) (with no idea how they thought this position was comfortable for them). 

You were so engrossed in your kissing that you didn’t hear the ding of the elevator, or the doors beginning to slide open. 

“Holy shit guys, at least let the girl breathe,” Kelley’s cackling caused all three of you to jump, and Lindsey to inadvertently knock heads with you. 

“Fuck,” Emily hissed, working her way out from between Lindsey’s arms and your chest. 

“Ow,” You mumbled, rubbing your forehead l, as Lindsey used a thumb to lift your chin so she could look at it. “You alright babe,” She asked softly. 

Kelley laughed louder at the mess that was the three of you trying to untangle yourselves from each other, ignoring Alex’s glare (teasing someone while their cheeks were as red as yours were wasn’t something she felt comfortable with). 

“Shut up Kelley,” Emily grumbled, pulling you off the wall so she could hug you from behind. You leaned back into the woman, taking whatever comfort you could. The three of you knew it was time to tell the team, but you hadn’t expected it to happen like this. 

“How long has this been going on?” Alex asked softly after a few minutes. There was no way the three of you could be so comfortable around each other if this was a new thing. 

“Almost a year,” You said, shyly looking up at Lindsey, who placed a very sweet kiss on your cheek while Emily placed the same on your other. 

“Does Taylor know?” Alex asked at the same time Kelley said “I’m gonna need an exact date,”. 

Alex slapped the back of Kelley’s head. “Not the time Kel,”

“Yeah, Taylor knows and is super cool with it,” Lindsey said softly, squeezing your hand. 

Alex tilted her head, looking to you for confirmation. You nodded. 

“Good, because I didn’t want to have to try and keep it from her,” The forward smirked, and you felt more heat in your cheeks. You all promised you would never mention that incident again. 

“She was terrifying last time we saw her mad,” Kelley grumble, rubbing the back of her head. 

“That was because you let Y/n surf in giant waves on her first time out,” Emily snorted, nuzzling her nose into the space behind your ear. Alex smiled softly at the sight of you so relaxed. 

“Are you three going to tell the team?” She asked. 

“You might have to if you are going to continue playing tonsil tennis in the hallways,” Kelley added, only for Alex to slap the back of her head again. 

“We hadn’t really talked about it yet…” You mumbled. Both of your girlfriends squeezed you (Lindsey getting your gains, while Emily tightened the arms she had wrapped around your middle). 

“Well, could you wait like 3 days? I have 20 bucks on you three taking until the middle of camp to come out,” Kelley asked, scratching the back of her neck. You rolled your eyes. Of course, they would have bets on you, but you weren’t about to bend over backward for it. 

“You knew?” Emily screeched. Kelley cackled nodding wildly. 

“You’re not exactly subtle,” Alex laughed. Anyone with eyes could see that you were head over heels for the women and that they were falling just as hard as you were. 

*****

The internet fucking sucked. You knew that and found it relatively easy to ignore the mass chatter of the online world, but then again you had never been a part of such a disgusting report by some shady internet reporter. 

All you had done was gone to lunch with Shawn Mendes, and someone had snapped a picture. The two of you had become good friends after spending so much time together on the 1989 tour. Now some random reporter was commenting on how you had confirmed your new relationship. It wouldn’t have mattered if you were anyone else, but Taylor’s fandom had blown up the small town reporter’s article. 

Now they wouldn’t leave you the fuck alone. 

“We’re not going to respond to it,” You huffed, crossing your arms adamantly in front of your chest, effectively pushing your plate of pancakes away. You squinted at the vets sitting across from you, completely baffled why they thought you would take any other route. 

Lindsey’s arm around your shoulder righted, while Emily leaned in, almost conspiratorially. “Of course not, but wouldn’t it be fun to send the fans on a little goose chase anyway?” 

Your ears perked at that. Taylor’s fans were always so fun to mess with. They made it so easy, particularly because your sister had trained them to always look for clues (that most of the time exist). 

“And we have been talking about wanting to come out,” Lindsey added softly. 

Your expression soured. You didn’t want to do this as a reaction. You wanted it to happen naturally. 

“I don’t wanna do that in response to some asshole who doesn’t understand boundaries,” You pouted. 

“But what if we did it our way?” Lindsey and Emily both asked at the same time. It was scary how in sync they were most of the time. 

“Like get the team involved, tease the fans. At least show them that you don’t play for Mr. Mendes’ team,” Emily shrugged, trying to act like she didn’t care, but you knew she did. 

You couldn’t help but smirk. You did love to mess with the fans. 

“If you do wanna mess with the fans, I have the perfect picture” Tobin chimed in, giving you that little push you needed. 

Emily raised her eyebrows at the woman, ignoring the glares the rest of the vets were sending her way. “Didn’t see you as a prankster Toby,” 

“It’s artsier than anything else…” Tobin grumbled, flipping her phone to show you the photo she was talking about. 

It was of you, Emily and Lindsey during a morning hike the team had taken. You were laughing, while both of their heads were tucked into your neck. You were the only one clearly identifiable, but it was clear you were smitten with whoever you were with. 

“Ooo, I like that one,” You said, suddenly feeling excited. It was bound to send the fans into a frenzy because you couldn’t see who was making you smile so wide. 

Tobin nodded and began typing out the post, before flipping it for you to read and ok. You giggled at the tag line “only those two knuckleheads could get you to smile this wide before your morning coffee”. 

“Good?” Tobin asked, and you nodded enthusiastically. It was perfect, and coming out this way- with the help of your team- felt amazing. 

“I have one too. You guys are too photogenic,” Christen said, pulling up her phone and begging to scroll through her photos (much like the rest of the team began to do). Were you guys really that obvious? No wonder they had bets going. 

*****

Your teammates were having way too much fun. You shouldn’t have been surprised considering how private the women normally were, it must have been nice to get some time sending the fans on a wild goose chase. You were also surprised at how many photos your teammates had taken of you and your girlfriends. And just how many of those photos were perfect for the little game you were playing with the fans. 

You could identify yourself on all of them, but Emily and Lindsey weren’t clear at all. But it was plain to see that you were very in love with whoever was sitting next to you. 

“Did you see Alex’s picture? It's amazing!” You said, wiggling excitedly between your girlfriends. The three of you had taken a break from the team and decided to cuddle while you watched the fans go insane. (It was honestly one of your favorite places to be). 

“Pshhh, no Pinos is totally the best,” Emily snorted. 

You pouted. She nudged your side and placed a very sweet kiss on your pouty lips. 

Alex’s photo of Emily and Lindsey throwing you into the ocean was totally better than the one of you shoving and chasing your girlfriends with birthday cake-covered hands. 

“No, Kelley’s is totally the top picture in the bunch,” Lindsey smirked, nudging your chin with her nose from your other side. 

You blinked up at her and looked at the photo of one of your favorite goal celebrations. You had literally leaped into Emily and Lindsey’s arms, but you were at least 3 feet higher than Lindsey’s head in that picture. 

You bit your lip. It was a very good picture, one of your favorites actually, but there was one that topped them all for you. “They’re all pretty good, but I think I’ve got the best one,” You said softly, pulling out your phone. 

It didn’t take you long to find the picture in question (it also happened to be your lock screen). You were smiling brightly at the camera, the reputation tour stage (lit for the song Dress) clearly behind you, trapped between Emily and Lindsey kissing each of your cheeks. Your girlfriends looked over your shoulders to catch a glimpse of your phone. 

“Are you sure you wanna do this?” Lindsey asked softly. There was no hiding or pretending in that photo. It was open and honest (and a great picture of a fantastic night). 

“Yeah, it’s like speak now or forever hold your peace,” Emily added, and you could practically hear her eyebrow raising. 

“No, but I don’t wanna hide you two,” You shrugged. It was the balance you sister had worked her entire career to achieve. Hiding away meant that there was no commentary about your relationship from people you had never met (loose lips sank ships after all), but it also meant avoiding the little things that you longed to do in public. 

You weren’t sure if you would ever be ready to face the media, but your desire to be with your girlfriends the way you wanted was just so powerful. 

“You know we’ll wait as long as you need us to,” Lindsey said, using her thumb to tilt your chin and look you in the eyes. 

you nodded, your eyes never leaving her concerned blue ones. “I know but, like-. I wanna be able to hold your hand or kiss you and not have to worry who's watching. I want to be able to take you on dates, and not care about if a camera can see us cuddling. I want to be able to post about how great you looked in a game, or for your birthday. I don’t want to hide,” 

During your rant, Emily had wrapped herself around you from behind, resting her chin on your shoulder and rubbing her hands flat on your belly (which never failed to calm you down). 

“We know darling, but once this is done, it can’t be undone,” She said softly. 

You threaded your fingers through hers, glancing down to avoid Lindsey’s appraising stare (you never could get anything past them). “I didn’t think you were a Shakespeare fan,” You mumbled. 

“I’m full of surprises,” Emily said, kissing her favorite spot just behind your ear. Lindsey cracked a smile too “we both are”. 

“I know,” You nodded suddenly serious, as you carefully extracted yourself from your girlfriends and began to type up the Instagram post. 

You passed them the phone when you were done, idly twiddling your fingers now that you didn’t have anything in your hands. “I’m gonna do it if you two are alright with it,” 

“We’re fine with whatever you choose, we love you and just want you to be comfortable,” Lindsey and Emily both said, rubbing your back and arm respectively in a comforting motion. 

“I know, and I love you too. Let’s do it,” you said clicking the button and closing your phone. You didn’t need to watch the comments roll in.

It wouldn’t be until the next morning that you would see your sister had also decided to chime in. And you couldn’t keep the smile off your face at her simple caption- love my sister and her girlies. For sure the best squad ever. 

[waitimcomingtoo]

Adventures in Cat Sitting

Synopsis: Tom is not a cat person, but watches your cat anyway

Masterlist

“Hi baby.” You appeared in the doorway of the living room with a blanket wrapped around your shoulders and a nervous smile on your face. You had a big favor to ask of Tom and you already knew he wasn’t going to like it.

“Hi princess.” Tom sat up on the couch and noticed your face. “You look like you need something.”

“I might.” You shrugged as you sat down on his lap. He immediately wrapped his arms around you to keep you from falling off, clasping his hands together under your spine.

“Let me see if I can help you.” He chuckled as he tugged you closer by the blanket.

“So you know how I have to go away this week for my cousins wedding?” You began, slow as not to startle him.

“Yeah. I miss you already.” He pouted, making you laugh and kiss his lips.

“I miss you too, lover.” You ran your fingers though his hair. “So I was wondering if you could do me a favor.”

“Anything, Princess.” He smiled lazily at you. “What do you need?”

You tugged at his shirt for a moment and avoided eye contact, shrugging a little as if you hadn’t been planning this for days.

“Ineedyoutowatchmycat.” You said quickly.

“What?” Tom furrowed his eyebrows when he didn’t understand you.

“I need you to watch my cat?” You grimaced, finally looking at him. You knew how Tom felt about your cat from the many, many times he told you.

He wasn’t a cat person. Not at all. And your cat in particular seemed to be his sworn enemy. They never got along and you often had to hide him in another room when Tom was over.

“You mean he’s not going to be guarding the pits of hell?” Tom tilted his head in confusion, making you roll your eyes.

“He is not that bad.” You insisted. “You can survive a few days with him.”

“Uh Uh.” Tom shook his head firmly. “You know how I feel about cats. That’s my least favorite kind of pussy.”

Your jaw dropped as he laughed at his own joke, stopping when you smacked his arm.

“Don’t get fresh.” You scolded. “I just need you to watch my cat for a few days.”

“You don’t have a cat.” Tom disagreed. “You have whatever Pandora let out of her box.”

“Oatmeal is really sweet once he warms up to you.” You told him. “You haven’t spent enough time with him to do that.”

“Because every time I get close to him, he hisses at me.” Tom exclaimed.

“Not every time.” You said pointedly. “Just most times.”

“Can’t you put him in the kennel?” Tom whined, knowing he wasn’t going to get out of this.

“He’s not social and I haven’t found one I like.” You pouted, putting on puppy dog eyes to sway him.

“So drop it off in the forest for a few days and let it get some life experience.” Tom shrugged, earning himself another playful smack.

“Tom.” You groaned. “He’ll die out there.”

“We can only hope.” Tom mumbled under his breath.

“I think this will be good for you guys.” You ignored his comment. “You’re the two most important men in my life and I need you to get along.”

“How am I possibly on the same level as that heathen?” Tom held a hand over his chest like he was offended.

“I love you both so much and it kills me that you don’t get along.” You whined, stroking his cheek to pull him back.

“We’d get along just fine if he wasn’t such a bastard.” Tom snapped, making you gasp.

“How many times do I have to tell you not to call my cat a bastard?” You asked. This was a conversation you had had many times as it was Toms preferred nickname for you cat. Tom shrunk down on the couch and looked at the ceiling as he blew out an annoyed huff.

“Sorry.” He mumbled.

“This could be good for us too.” You assured him. “Watching a pet is an integral part in any relationship. I’m giving you all my trust.”

“You’re not giving me your trust.” Tom laughed sharply. “You’re giving me your fat ass demon cat.”

“Come on, please baby?” You jutted yourself bottom lip out. “Oatmeal might grow on you.”

“Aw. Like genital warts?” Tom smiled sarcastically.

“No.” You said flatly. “Not like genital warts.”

“Why do I have to watch him?” Tom complained like a child. “Why can’t you just leave him in a box with some food and water?”

“Would you like that if I did that to you?” You raised a skeptical eyebrow at him.

“If there was alcohol in the box, then yeah.” He shrugged. “I might just enjoy myself.”

You realized you weren’t getting anywhere and pulled away from him with a new approach ready.

“Fine.” You sighed and dramatically looked away. “If you don’t want to watch my cat, I’ll just have to find a boyfriend who will.”

You started to get up but Tom immediately pulled you back, making you giggle as he held on firmly. He had finally caved and you knew it.

“Woah woah wait.” He nuzzled into your neck and left kisses there before sighing. “I’ll watch your bastard child.”

“You’ll what?” You texted him.

“I’ll watch your precious fur baby.” He said through a fake smile. You twisted your body and wrapped your arms around him, kissing every inch of his face you could reach.

“Thank you.” You gushed. “You’re a life saver.”

“You’re welcome, darling.” He chuckled as he lovingly rubbed your back. “You better remember this if I ever need a kidney.”

“I don’t think the two things carry equal weight.” You tilted your head playfully and laughed.

“They don’t.” He agreed. “You’re welcome for letting you off easy.”

Rolling your eyes at your boyfriend, you decided not to fight back since he was doing you a favor. Instead, you opted for kissing him long and deep to show your appreciation.

“Thanks for doing this.” You mumbled against his lips. “I know you don’t like cats so I appreciate it. I owe you one.”

“Mind if I collect my toll now?” Tom smirked as he flipped you onto your back, making you laugh loudly.

“Not at all.”

Sunday

“This is his food.” You handed Tom a pink bag with whiskers stitched on. “He gets two cups a day, dry at morning and wet at night. He won’t eat unless you scratch him behind the ears after you put it in his bowl.”

“I’m not putting my hands anywhere near that thing.” Tom shook his head as he took the bag. “It has a bloodlust.”

Oatmeal was nestled in your arms, staring at Tom with a vengeance. Tom stared back with wide eyes, already feeling his pulse quicken.

“No he does not.” You cooed as you scratched Oatmeal behind the ears. “Make sure to keep an eye on his water bowl and never give him milk. It’s bad for his teeth.”

“Right. Wouldn’t want him losing his razor sharp little death traps.” Tom said sarcastically, seemingly speaking directly to the cat. “If he bites me, I’ll bite him right back.”

“Tom.” You sighed deeply. “I shouldn’t have to say this, but do not bite my cat.”

Oatmeal suddenly bared his teeth and hissed at Tom, making Tom gasp.

“Did you hear what he just said to me?” Tom exclaimed as he pointed to the cat.

“He’s just getting used to you, is all.” You shrugged as you set Oatmeal down on the ground. He took a careful step towards Tom before hissing again.

“He did it again!” Tom jumped into your arms in the style of Shaggy and Scooby. “He called me a slur.”

“No he didn’t.” You laughed as you set Tom down. “His treats are in the bag. Only one a day and none if he’s naughty.”

“I didn’t realize he had a setting other than naughty.” Tom sassed your cat, making him hiss once again. Tom looked at you for help and you sighed.

“Hey, behave.” You scolded Oatmeal as you stroked him. “His toys are in the bag too. He gets pretty feisty with the fish on a string so don’t go near him when he’s playing with it.”

Oatmeal jumped up on a chair and leaned towards Tom, peering at him as if extended an olive branch. Tom looked at you and you nodded, encouraging him to reach out towards the animal. Oatmeal leaned forward and sniffed Tom’s hand before snapping at him. Tom jerked his hand back and cradled it, though he wasn’t actually bitten.

“I don’t think I can do this.” Tom said suddenly. “He’s gonna put a hex on me.”

“Tom, please?” You whined when he went back on his offer. “I have to leave now and there’s no one else who can take him.”

“Give him to one of your friends.” Tom whimpered as he hid behind you. “What about Stacy? Don’t you hate her?”

“All my friends are either allergic or coming on the trip with me.” You pleaded with him.

“There has to be someone else who can watch this hell beast.” Tom spat as he shot daggers at Oatmeal. You chewed your bottom lip as you thought of way to keep him on board until something came to you.

“Well, my ex watched him a couple times.” You shrugged casually as you picked Oatmeal back up. “Maybe I can call him and-“

“I’ll watch the damn cat.” Tom cut you off, always the jealous type. “Come here baby.”

He cooed and walked towards Oatmeal, who swiped at him with his claws.

“Ah! Bitch!” He screamed and jumped away from

“Are you sure?” You innocently batted your eyelashes. “I’m sure he’d be more than happy to-“

“La la la la la.” Tom held his hands over his ears and sang loudly. “Enough about him. I’ll watch Oatmeal. It’s just two days right?”

“Four days.” You kept a smile on your face so you wouldn’t worry him.

“Four days?” He gasped. “How many people is she getting married to?”

“Just one. Who knows? If this goes well, maybe she’ll be flying out to my wedding soon.” You flirted as you held his chin between your fingers. This pulled a smile out of Tom, making him walk to you and wrap his arms around you. You fitted your face into the crook of his neck and left a kiss there, taking in your last few moments with him before you left.

“I’ll miss you, princess.” He mumbled as he rubbed soft circles onto your back.

“I’ll miss you too.” You sighed, resting your chin on his shoulder. You pulled away after a long time and kissed him, letting it linger until you couldn’t breath. You patted his cheek softly before bending down and petting Oatmeal.

“Amd I’ll miss you Mr. Fluffy Pants.” You cooed as you picked him up. “Who has the fluffiest pants?”

“I believe that’s his feline obesity.” Tom said sweetly as he narrowed his eyes at your cat.

“Funny.” You stuck your tongue out at him. “I’ll see you Wednesday.”

“Don’t be late.” He pouted, feeling his heart sink as you collected your things. You noticed his forlorn demeanor and hugged him again, taking in the scent of his cologne.

“How could I stay away from my baby?” You mumbled into his ear. You pulled away and jutted your bottom lip out before smiling wickedly.

“And I’ll miss you too.” You added as you pulled away. Tom rolled his eyes at you while you opened his door.

“Hilarious.” He replied sarcastically. “I’m laughing my-“

The door shut.

“-ass off.” He said weakly as silence settled into his home. He let out a sigh as he stared at the door, the smell of your perfume still lingering on his skin. He hated being apart from you, even if it was just for a few days. Tom’s reminiscing was cut short by a hatch meow from the floor. Tom jumped, having forgotten all about the cat he had promised to watch. Oatmeal stalked over to Tom and sat down in front of him as if to mock him.

“Listen you little whore.” Tom pointed an angry finger at the car. “I’m in charge. There will be no shenanigans this week, you hear me? Not one single shenanigan. That means no scratching the furniture, no shedding, and absolutely no napping in sunbeams. And I swear to God, if you piss on my rug, I’ll kill you. I will kill you with my bare hands. You hear me?”

The silence in the room was replaced with tension as Oatmeal silently stared at Tom with narrowed eyes. Finally, he let out a soft meow.

“Shut up.” Tom jumped again. “I’ll kill you.”

Oatmeal took another step towards Tom, making Tom take a step back. Oatmeal seemed to like this and sat down again.

“Why are you staring at me?” Tom snapped. “Do you want to fight?”

Oatmeal lifted his paw and put it back down, almost like he was stamping his foot. He let out a whine and took another step towards Tom, meowing towards the bag you had given him.

“Oh. It’s 6.” Tom realized. “You’re hungry, aren’t you?”

Oatmeal meowed again, louder this time.

“Don’t use that tone with me.” Toms voice cracked. “My beloved just left and I’m very sensitive right now.”

Oatmeal tilted his head to stare at him, silently judging Tom as he wiped away a tear. Tom composed himself quickly and went over to the bag you’d left, taking out Oatmeal’s pink bowls and bag of food. Oatmeal jumped up on the counter to watch Tom as he prepared the food, both of them sneaking glances at each other every once in a while. Tom stuck his tongue out at the cat before setting his food on the ground.

“Here you go, fatass.” Tom snapped, taking a step back when Oatmeal walked over to the bowl. Oatmeal sniffed the food skeptically before looking up at Tom as if he was waiting for something.

“I’m not scratching you behind the ears.” Tom scoffed with hands on his hips. “You’re not royalty.”

Oatmeal let out a howl and pawed at the bowl, demanding his ear scratches.

“Starve, then.” Tom shrugged. “See if I care.”

Oatmeal hissed at Tom, who responded with the middle finger. He kept his middle finger up and directed at Oatmeal as he walked out of the room, going into his bed room to calm down. After five minutes of thinking, he went back to the kitchen.

“After care consideration I’ve realized Y/n will break up with me if I kill her cat, which is fair.” Tom announced as he walked to Oatmeal. “That is why I’m doing this. Not because I care about you or your well-being.”

Oatmeal meowed softly and pawed at the bowl again, making Tom roll his eyes as he crouched down.

“Here are your little bitch scratches behind your little bitch ears.” Tom grumbled as he scratched the cat. Oatmeal purred in satisfaction before eating the entirety of his bowl. Tom backed away and watched him, smiling a little at how docile he seemed. He quickly wiped the smile off his face as Oatmeal finished and looked up at him.

“I need to call my brother about a script we’re writing, not that it’s any of your business.” Tom said as he looked at the floor. “Don’t bother me while I’m on the phone.”

Oatmeal didn’t pay any attention to Tom, instead busying himself with cleaning his left paw. Tom narrowed his eyes at the cat and huffed out an angry breath.

“Whatever. I know you care You just won’t admit it because you’re jealous.” Tom laughed bitterly as he stared daggers at Oatmeal. Oatmeal continued to ignore Tom as he began licking his other paw.

“You’re jealous that I have abs and you have a flabby cat tummy that drags on the floor.” Tom continued, determined to get the cats attention. “And we both know which one Y/n prefers.”

Oatmeal flicked his eyes to Tom before lifting a leg and licking his nether regions. Tom gasped and touched a hand to his chest in offense.

“You’re disgusting.” Tom spat. “I’m leaving.”

Tom turned on his heel and heard a meow from behind him as he walked away, resembling a taunting laugh.

“Don’t follow me!” Tom called once he got to his office. He sat down at his desk and rubbed his tired eyes before dialing his brother.

Forty minutes later, Tom and Harry were knee deep in their script. They had gotten to standstill, unable to come to an agreement with where to take the story.

“Right, right.” Tom nodded as he rested his chin in his hands. “I was thinking for - - oh for Gods sake.”

Tom’s attention was claimed by Oatmeal slipping in through the crack in the door, letting out a meow to announce his presence. Harry saw Tom’s jaw clench as he stared at the cat offscreen, leaning closer to the camera to get a better look.

“Was that a cat?” Harry asked as he watched his brother swat at something to his left.

“Hey!” Tom bellowed as Oatmeal jumped up on the desk. “No feet on the table!”

“Mate, who are you yelling at?” Harry tapped the screen repeatedly to get his brothers attention.

“Oatmeal.” Tom grumbled, jerking his neck at the cat as if to challenge him to a fight.

“Y/n’s cat?” Harry chuckled, knowing all about his brothers hatred of cats. “Why is he at your place?”

“Shes at her cousins wedding this week.” Tom pouted. “I told her I’d watch the furry bastard.”

“How’s that going?” Harry smiled teasingly, already having an idea of how it was going. Before Tom could answer, Oatmeal walked in front of his phone and knocked it down with his tail. He let out a proud purr as Tom picked his phone back up.

“Shut up!” He shrieked. “I’m on the phone!”

“Tom! Stop yelling at the cat.” Harry snapped his fingers at Tom. “I asked you how it was going.”

Tom tore his eyes away from Oatmeal, who had made himself comfortable in one of Tom’s desk drawers.

“Not great, man.” Tom shook his head. “Not great.”

Monday

“I’m home.” Tom announced as he walked into his front door. “Did you kill any children and eat their souls while I was gone?”

Oatmeal didn’t come to the door right away like a dog would, making Tom worry briefly. He set his grocery bags down and knelt to the ground, patting his thighs the way he would do to call Tessa. It’s not that Tom was dying to see him, he just didn’t want to be the guy who lost his girlfriends cat. Much to his relief, Oatmeal appeared from around the corner, the bell around his neck jingling.

“There you are.” Tom sighed as he stood up. “You look like shit.”

Oatmeal hissed and pranced over to the couch, stretching out his limbs in a sunbeam before laying down. As his body his the couch, tufts of hair flew into the air. Tom’s eyes widened in surprise before running over to the couch to investigate. Even though it had been less than a day, Oatmeal had managed to get his fur all over the couch.

“Excuse me? What is this?” Tom demanded as he picked up some fur between his fingers. Oatmeal rolled onto his side and stared at Tom with unblinking eyes.

“What did I say about shedding? You think this is some brothel that you can defile with your fur? It’s not.” Tom snapped, stomping over to the hall closet to get the vacuum. He plugged it into the wall, shooting angry glared at Oatmeal every few seconds.

“Unbelievable.” Tom pretended to gag as he vacuumed up the hair. “You disgust me.”

Oatmeal flicked his tail back and forth, causing the fur Tom had missed to float into the air. Tom shook his fist at the cat before getting his food out and putting it in the bowl.

“I’m taking a shower.” He grumbled as he rinsed his hands. “Eat your damn food.”

Tuesday

“Oatmeal? Come in here.”

Tom stood with his hands on his hips, impatiently tapping his foot as he waited for the damned cat to come. When he didn’t show, Tom balled his fists in frustration and let out a silent scream.

“Oh my God. SPSPSPSPS.” Tom yelled, spit flying from his mouth as he called the cat once again. Oatmeal waltzed into the room, taking his sweet time to get to where Tom was.

“Do you want to explain to me what this is?” Tom asked angrily as he pointed to the surprise Oatmeal had left on the floor while he was working out. Oatmeal sat down and tilted his head at Tom, daring him to raise his voice.

“You’ve done it.” Tom nodded as he tightened his lips into a line. “You’ve shit on my floor.”

Oatmeal purred before turning his attention to his paw, loudly cleaning it to show Tom he had no shame.

“The disrespect you’ve shown for my hard wood is astounding.” Tom pointed a finger at him. “You’re a fiend. A sneaky, fatass little fiend.”

Oatmeal looked towards the kitchen table and meowed before looking back at Tom. He shook his body out, fur flying everywhere and settling in the air.

“Why must you insult me in this way? Why wouldn’t you go in your-“ Tom cut himself off when he looked at the litter box, still on the kitchen table where he left it. So that was what Oatmeal had been looking at.

“Oh. I told you not to put your feet on the table.” Tom realized the cat had listened to him after all. Oatmeal had pooped on the floor, but only because Tom failed to put the litter box down. Oatmeal let out a quiet meow and walked over to Tom, hitting his leg with his tail.

“No, I get it.” Tom sighed as he went to get cleaning supplies. “We were both at fault. I mean, I wasn’t the one who shit on the floor, but we both made a mistake.”

Oatmeal circled Tom’s body before taking a seat at his feet, peering up at him with wide eyes. Tom felt guilty as he looked at the animal, knowing he could never understand that he was sorry for yelling at him. He walked to the table and got the litter box, setting it down where Oatmeal could access it.

“Here.” He said softly. “Sorry about that.”

Oatmeal walked over to the box and looked up at Tom, giving Tom the impression that he was forgiven. But of course, Oatmeal still had a cold side. He hissed viciously at Tom before stepping into the littler box.

“Fine.” Tom scoffed. “I’m not sorry.”

Your cat and your boyfriend stared at each other for a long time, neither wanting to be the one to leave. That was a sign of weakness, and they were both determined to dominate the other.

“I’m getting frozen yogurt.” Tom said suddenly, unable to take the tension any longer. He grabbed his keys and left without another word.

Less than an hour later, Tom returned home with a ring of chocolate frozen yogurt around his mouth. He locked the front door and turned his light on, jumping when he saw Oatmeal sitting in the middle of the floor with a vacant stare.

“Jesus. Warn a guy, would you?” Tom rolled his eyes as he held a hand over his heart. “You could’ve given me a heart attack.”

Oatmeal stayed silent as Tom put his keys in the bowl by the door, his eyes following Tom’s every move.

“Yeah, you would’ve liked that, wouldn’t you?” Tom narrowed his eyes at Oatmeal before washing his hands in the kitchen sink. Oatmeal let out a loud hiss, making Tom jump out of his skin. He had crossed the room to get to Tom, all without making a sound, and sat himself at his feet. Tom stumbled back, only stopping when his back hit the wall. His heart pounded in his ears from the scare, and if he didn’t know any better, he could’ve sworn Oatmeal was laughing at him. Not wanting to show weakness, Tom quickly collected himself and stood up straight.

“Alright listen here you little bitch.” Tom snapped. “I don’t like you. And if I wasn’t seriously in love with your owner, I would microwave you. I would put you in the microwave and watch you rotate just like them damn rotisserie chickens until you blew up. And then I would set the microwave on fire.”

Oatmeal let out a long meow, sounding insulted by Tom’s words. His eyes softened upon hearing the hurt in the cats voice, fixing his body language to not look as menacing.

“Okay I wouldn’t do all that, but I would drive out to a really far place and leave you there. And that’s basically the same thing.” Tom shouted as he folded his arms. Oatmeal dragged his paw behind his ear and purred, taking no interest in Tom or his threats.

“Shut the fuck up.” Tom hissed. Oatmeal hissed back and swiped a paw at Tom.

“I’ll shave you.” Tom threaten as he backed away. “I will shave you bare.”

Oatmeal continued to advance on him, backing the actor into a corner.

“You don’t think I’d do it?” Tom asked with a shaky voice. “I’ll get the buzzer right now. Do you know how ugly you’ll look?”

Oatmeal stopped in his place and sat down, leaning back on his front paws to stretch.

“That’s right.” Tom laughed sharply. “You’ll look like an uncooked chicken breast. Fuck you.”

Oatmeal watched Tom curiously as he left the room, satisfied with how the conversation went.

Wednesday

Tom sat at his kitchen island, slowing sipping his fourth glass of wine. It had gotten to the point in the week where he missed you too much to do much of anything, which resulted him getting drunk early in the day. He had been locked in a staring contest with Oatmeal for quite some time, never breaking eye contact as he poured his next glass.

“What are you looking at?” Tom slurred as he brought the wine glass to his lips. Oatmeal said nothing, blinking slowly at Tom as he drank.

“So what?” Tom shrugged. “My girlfriend is gone. I can get drunk at 2 pm.”

Oatmeal tilted his head to the side, something Tom was growing to resent.

“How dare you judge me?” He spoke slowly, heavily intoxicated now. “You’re not even wearing clothes.”

Oatmeal let out a soft meow, making a smile tug at Toms lips.

“Heh heh.” He chuckled as he took another sip. “Imagine that? You’d look pretty stupid in clothes.”

Oatmeal took a few steps toward Tom, sweetly purring as he rubbed himself against Toms legs.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to call you stupid.” Tom said softly. “If anyone’s stupid, it’s me. I should’ve gone with Y/n. I miss her so much.”

Oatmeal peered up at Tom with kind eyes, the first docile interaction between them.

“Yeah.” Tom smiled as reached down to scratch his ears. “Me too.”

Oatmeal jumped onto the chair, and then into Toms lap, nuzzling himself against his neck. Tom happily stroked his soft fur, liking this newfound civility between them.

“This is gonna sound crazy, but what can I say? I’m a crazy guy.” Tom laughed heartily. “Do you want to drink with me? Do you just wanna go crazy and drink away the day?”

Oatmeal looked up at Tom and meowed, making Tom smile.

“Hell yeah!” He cheered. He picked Oatmeal up with one hand and grabbed the wine bottle with the other. After setting Oatmeal down on the ground, he poured wine into his water bowl.

“Wine is for cats! Wine is for people! Wine is for people and cats and people.” Tom sang happily. Oatmeal purred as he watched Tom, curious about the unknown liquid in his bowl.

“Thats right.” Tom agreed. “It’s also for church.”

Oatmeal sniffed the wine and pulled away, the sour smell sending a shiver through his body. He waltzed over to a sunbeam that was lighting up the floor and laid down, letting the sun warm his body. Tom stared at him for a moment before shrugging and laying down beside the cat.

“Do you believe in God?” Tom asked as he looked over at him. Oatmeal let out a small meow, to which Tom raised his eyebrows.

“You’re crazy, man.” Tom shook his head and patted his chest. “You’re a crazy dude.”

He laid in the sun with Oatmeal in silence for a moment, taking in the warmth from the floor.

“It’s so warm down here.” Tom sighed in content. “It’s like a hug from the sun.”

Oatmeal swatted his tail towards Tom, making Tom smile. Tom reaching over and rubbed Oatmeal’s tummy, his attention diverting to the bell on his collar. He took it between his fingers and saw your name and address engraved on it, sighing again as he was reminded about how much he missed you.

“I have to tell you man, I love her so much.” Tom pouted wistfully. “Y/n is the greatest thing that’s ever happened to me.”

Tom smiled as Oatmeal purred in understanding.

“You want another drink you crazy bastard?” He asked the cat as he got off the floor. He poured some wine into his glass, and then some into Oatmeal’s already full bowl.

“Me too, man. Me too.” Tom said as he took another sip and got back on the floor.

“You know, Oatmeal isn’t that bad of a name. I can see why she named you that, though.” Tom thought out loud as he stroked the cats fur. “You’re the exact color of her favorite kind. The maple brown sugar one, you know? She gets so excited in the winter when it’s one sale. I’ve seen her clear a whole shelf into her shopping cart. And then she sits down at the table when her hair is still messy and lets it warm her up. She puts her little spoon in it and blows on it even though it’s never that hot. She’s so cute, man. I love her so much. I could watch her eat oatmeal everyday.”

Oatmeal purred as he rubbed his head against Toms hand.

“I know.” Tom chuckled. “We really are lucky.”

Tom situated himself into a more comfortable position on the floor and held his hand up, letting the sun rays shine through his fingers and illuminate the cat hair in the air.

“I gotta say, you’re really onto something with this whole napping in sunbeams deal.” Tom commented. “I’m quite enjoying this.”

Tom was too busy drinking on the floor to hear his front door open. You set your bags down and went into the living room, smiling in confusion when you saw your boyfriend and your cat on the ground.

“Tom?” You laughed at the sight. “I’m home.”

Toms eyes widened as he sprang off the floor, the wine in his glass sloshing around as he stood up.

“It was his idea!” He exclaimed, pointing an accusatory finger at your cat.

“Oh really?” You humored him. “What are you guys doing?”

“We…sunbeam.” Tom explained as he weakly pointed at the sunbeam, still too drunk to form a real sentence.

“I see.” You chuckled as you wrapped your arms around his neck. You placed a welcomed kiss to his lips, immediately tasting the bitter wine.

“Are you drunk?” You asked as you finally noticed the wine glass in his hand.

“Maybe.” Tom giggled as he struggled to stand up straight.

“Never mind that.” Your eyes shifted to Oatmeal and the vacant spot next to him that your boyfriend previously inhabited. “Were you just…cuddling my cat?”

“No.” Tom said quickly. “We were both laying there and you happened to walk in during the brief moment we touched. That’s all.”

“Why were you on the floor?” You questioned as you took the wine glass from his hand and took a sip. Tom opened his mouth but found no words coming out, opting to change the subject instead.

“Come here!” He smiled as he pulled you in for a long hug. “I missed you. Tell me all about your trip.”

“I picked up food from your favorite restaurant. Let’s eat and I’ll tell you everything.” You suggested as you pulled away.

“That sounds perfect.” He sighed, suddenly realizing how hungry he was. “I’m starved.”

You pulled him in for another kiss before bending down to greet your cat.

“Hello baby.” You cooed as you scratched behind Oatmeal’s ears. “Were you a good boy for Tom?”

“He was all right.” Tom shrugged, sending a wink to the cat. “Nothing to report.”

“You spend all that time whining about watching him but you have nothing to report?” You asked skeptically as you stood back up.

“It was pretty mellow.” Tom said dismissively, not wanting to get into the multiple fights they had. You squinted at Tom as if you didn’t believe him and folded your arms.

“Hm. Maybe he did put that hex on you after all.” You teased. “I’m gonna change real quick and move my bags.”

“Okay. I missed you.” Tom pulled you by the hand and kissed you again before you could leave the room.

“I missed you more.” You gave him another quick kiss and grimaced. “You taste like alcohol.”

“I’ll set the table, princess.” He called after you as you walked towards his bedroom.

“Thank you!” You called back.

Tom got to work setting the table and putting the bag of food near the place settings. You came back in no time in one of his large T-shirts and a pair of his boxers. Tom smiled softly, always happy to see you in his clothing.

“You look comfy.” He commented as he pulled you towards him by the waist.

“I am.” You hummed. “That was such a long flight. I don’t know why I wore jeans.”

“Well at least you’re home now. I couldn’t handle us being apart for another day.” He pouted while resting his forehead against yours.

“Me either.” You smiled at him until your eyes shifted to the wall behind him, noticing something strange right away.

“Tom?” You asked as you pulled your head back.

“Yes, love?” He answered, obviously to the concerned look on your face.

“Why is there wine in Oatmeal’s food bowl?”

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[babygirl-diaz]

You're Cute Enough to Fuck With Me Tonight (AU)

Going to a club when you’re in your late 30s is not the best way to spend your Saturday nights, but Steve and Natasha insisted, so Sam ended up giving in to the peer pressure. Natasha got them to bypass the queue outside because she apparently knew the owner. The nightclub turned out different from what Sam was expecting. It was an elite club with its own fancy VIP lounge. Natasha got them a VIP booth and the three of them did whiskey shots to celebrate the successful first season of their tv show.

They were talking and laughing and well into their third beer when Natasha said, “Sam, don’t look now, but cokehead over there is eating you up with his eyes.”

“Huh?” Sam asked, and turned around to see who she was talking about when he found a white dude with short dark hair and a face full of facial hair, looking at Sam like he was starving and Sam was a buffet. There was a line of cocaine in front of the guy and he leaned down to snort it before coming up to wave at Sam. Sam ignored him.

“I tell him not to look and what does he do… he looks,” Natasha said sarcastically. “The guy’s hot, though. I think you should go for it.” She leaned back against Steve, who absently stroked her arm.

“The guy looks like trouble to me,” Steve pointed out. “I think you should stay away.”

“Wow, thanks, Dad,” Sam huffed.

“I love this song!” Natasha announced when the strings of a familiar song played. Before Sam could say anything, he was being pulled onto the dance floor by his friends despite his protests. “Call Me By Your Name, really?” Sam asks

“What? It’s a nice song!” Steve said, almost offended.

“You’re so whipped!” Sam laughed and slapped him on the back.

He moved his hips and ass along with the music and let out a frustrated groan when Natasha and Steve started grinding up against each other and got lost in one another. Sam knew this would happen. He’d end up as the third wheel and that’s why he wasn’t keen on coming tonight.

Sam lets out a surprised sound when he felt hands on his waist. Whoever had their hands on him spun him around, and Sam immediately came face to face with a pair of bright blue eyes, rimmed red. It was that cokehead from earlier. Sam wanted to pull away but got hypnotized by the look the guy was giving him.

The guy leaned in close to Sam’s ear and sang completely out of tune. “Romantic talkin'? You don't even have to try. You're cute enough to fuck with me tonight.” His voice was rough and despite the bad singing, it ran a shiver down Sam’s spine.

“I’m Bucky,” the guy introduced himself and pulled Sam even closer to move their hips together. “And you’re hot.” His voice was slightly slurred.

“Well, lucky for me, my name is Sam and not Hot.” Sam wrapped his arms around the guy’s neck and pressed their chests together.

“Sam…” Bucky said as if testing out his name. “Beautiful name for a beautiful guy.”

“You’re just saying that to get into my pants,” Sam smirked.

“Is it working?” Bucky pouted

“Nah, you gotta try harder.”

“God, you’re so hot,” Bucky said into Sam’s ear and took his earlobe between his teeth and pulled on it, making Sam moan. “I want you so bad,” he continued to say and squeezed Sam’s ass. Maybe the alcohol made him do it, but Sam surged forward and kissed him. He darted out his tongue and licked Bucky’s upper lip before taking it between his own lips. He then tilted his head to the side and kissed the edge of Bucky’s lips. Bucky opened his mouth and Sam’s tongue slid inside and he let himself explore Bucky’s mouth. The kiss got intense and heated. Sam felt Bucky’s cock press against his and he moaned into Bucky’s mouth, and Bucky swallowed up the sound. The song ended and they pull apart but stay close. “Let’s get out of here,” Sam said over the next song.

“Okay,” said Bucky and took Sam’s hand, leading him out of the club. But when they got outside, a small group gathered around them and asked Sam for autographs and photos. Sam felt himself strain in his jeans and he hoped no one noticed it as he took photos and signed autographs. Once the crowd dispersed, Sam found Bucky giving him a curious look. “You some kinda big shot?” He asked.

“I’m an actor,” Sam replied. “Ever heard of the show Captain America and the Winter Soldier? I’m the Captain America part of it. My friend Steve is the Winter Soldier.”

“I don’t watch tv. Don’t get the time,” Bucky shrugged. “But I get to fuck someone famous. That’s one thing off my bucket list.”

“So that’s why you wanna fuck me?” Sam asked faking offense. “And hey, who said you get to fuck me?”

Bucky got closer to Sam and kissed him again. “Oh, you’re so gonna let me fuck you, doll.” The way Bucky says doll makes Sam shiver and bite his lips.

“You wanna come back to my place?” Sam asked.

“Nah, I can’t wait that long but I know just the place.”

Bucky took Sam’s hand and led him towards the parking garage. Sam raised an eyebrow when they got to Bucky’s vehicle. “You some kinda soccer mom?” He asked looking at the Jeep SUV.

“It’s nondescript. Works well for my line of work,” Bucky shrugged. “Besides, you’re gonna thank me in a bit.”

“Your line of work? Fuck, you’re not a stay-at-home dad, are you? I don’t do married men.”

Bucky threw his head back and laughed as he got into the SUV. Sam followed him. “I am not a stay-at-home dad or married,” Bucky replied.

Bucky was on him, kissing him, the second they got in.

Sam pulled away briefly to ask, “What do you do then?”

Bucky looked him right in the eyes. The red rim around his eyes was gone and his eyes turned dark as he replied. “I’m an assassin. I was at the club to kill one of my targets.”

Sam blinked at him before he burst out laughing. “Wow, I’m the actor, but you’re the one with the vivid imagination.”

A smirked twitched along Bucky’s lips. “What can I say? I have a boring ass job. So I’m just trying to make myself sound interesting.”

“So what do you actually do?” Sam asked. “No. Wait. Lemme guess.”

“Be my guest.”

Sam’s eyes trailed down Bucky’s body. “You’re an investment banker.”

Bucky’s eyebrow shot up at that. “So damn close… I’m a stockbroker. How did you--”

“I’m just that good.” Sam winked at him. But then a smile broke across his face and he shook his head. “I saw you with those Wall Street folks earlier. Wasn’t that hard to figure out what you did for a living.”

Bucky leaned in close and kissed Sam once again. “So smart,” he said in between the kisses. “Just the way I like ‘em. Get in the backseat.”

Sam didn’t need to be told twice. He made his way onto the backseat and took off his clothes. He tossed them onto the front seat and felt his cheeks heat when he noticed the way Bucky was looking at him. Bucky’s blue eyes dilated, and he licked his lips while once again staring at Sam like he was a buffet. Bucky pulled out a condom and single-use lube from his wallet and Sam raised an eyebrow at him. “You were waiting to get lucky tonight, weren’t you?”

“I just like being prepared,” Bucky replied as he got into the backseat as well. He took off his own clothes and threw them onto the driver’s seat and pulled Sam closer to ravish his lips.

Bucky was right. Sam was thankful for the fact that the vehicle was an SUV. They had enough space to fuck in the back.

When they finished, it left Sam breathless and sore, but in a good way. Bucky drove him home, and the two cuddled up naked on Sam’s bed.

“Didn’t think you’d be a cuddler…” Sam commented.

“Oh, I love to cuddle,” Bucky replied, and tightened his grip around Sam’s middle.

Sam made his head more comfortable on Bucky’s chest and kissed his pecs. “You’re gorgeous, you know that.”

“So I’ve been told,” Bucky chuckled.

Sam frowned at that. “How many guys do you pick up at the club?”

“Is that jealousy I hear in your voice?” Bucky teased and kissed the top of Sam’s head. “If it’s any consolation, you’re the best I’ve ever had.”

“You’re just saying that cause I let you fuck me,” Sam huffed.

Bucky got on top of Sam and pressed their lips together again. “Nope, I’m only saying that so that you’d let me fuck you again.” His hand moved down on the sheets and groped Sam’s ass, making him gasp.

“You asshole,” Sam said, with no heat behind his words. “Lube and condoms are in the side drawer.”

“How many guys do you bring around here?” Bucky asked, narrowing his eyes.

Sam smirked at that. “If it’s any consolation, you’re the best I’ve ever had.”

***

Sam woke up the next morning to a cold and lonely bed. Bucky had snuck out during the night without even saying goodbye. That made Sam hurt a little. Just a little. Huffing, Sam threw the sheets over himself and fell back asleep. He didn’t know how long he slept, but the ringing of his doorbell woke him up. Sam wanted to ignore it and go back to sleep, but the person on the other end of the door was relentless.

Groaning, Sam got out of the bed and put on a pair of boxers and a t-shirt before making his way to the door. He threw it open and found Natasha and Steve standing there, looking equally worried.

“Oh thank god,” Steve pushed past Natasha and hugged Sam tightly.

The guy was built like a tank, and Sam struggled in his embrace. “Let me go! You’re crushing me!” Sam complained and pulled away from his friend to catch a breath. “What is wrong with you, man?”

“You disappeared last night! And then this morning there was news that someone at the club died and you wouldn’t answer your phone… we were scared!”

“What?” Sam asked.

“Yeah, your leering cokehead friend, one of his friends OD’d at the club last night.”

“Shit,” Sam hissed.

I’m an assassin. I was at the club to kill one of my targets. Bucky’s words rang in his ears and for a moment, Sam entertained the thought that maybe Bucky wasn’t joking after all. But he shook his head and got rid of the thought as soon as it entered his mind. There was no way Bucky was responsible for some guy overdosing. Sam was being ridiculous.

“Where did you go last night?” Natasha asked, throwing an arm around his shoulders.

“The leering cokehead… I brought him home,” Sam replied.

“What?!” Steve screeched. “Why would you do that?”

Both Natasha and Sam gave him an exasperated look, and he threw his hands up.

“So how was he?” Natasha asked.

“The best I’ve ever had,” Sam replied.

[faeryseiko]

// This is the characters before the game. I hope you guys will like this because I swear I can’t get enough of these headcanons,, It’s also for myself since I never had this in my life and I need this.//

Summary : How Squid Game characters would react when they see their teenager kid/sibling smoking with friends.

Warning : smoking

———————————-

Gi-hun

————

• You told him you had a good grade again, so he decided to surprise you by picking you up to school instead of the bus.

• Oh god, let me tell you my man wasn’t happy when he saw this cig between your fingers.

• Yes, he’s smoking himself, but he did whatever he could to not give you his bad habits and now he felt bad.

• You saw his car and immediately crush the cig on the ground before going to him.

• ‘’Uh, I didn’t know you were picking me up ?’’ You tried to smile it off. Which he responded by ‘’Just get in.’’

• Not with a pissed tone, but you knew you were going to get scolded.

• The ride was awkward. You were shifting in your seat as he looked at you from time to time.

• ‘’ So, huh, when were you going to tell me you started to smoke ?’’

‘’ It was a one-time thing I promise.’’ You defended yourself.

‘’You know that’s exactly what I said when I was younger.’’

‘’ Oh come on, don’t lecture me like that you look like the basic dad that tries too hard.’’

‘’I’m not lecturing you !’’

• You raised your eyebrow at him.

• ‘’Well I’m doing it to make sure you know!’’ He said back. After that it would be silent until he spoke again.

• ‘’How was it ?’’ He mumbled.

‘’Meh, it wasn’t good.’’ You shrugs.

• Then he would just smile and mess with your hair.

• He wasn’t mad and will never be, but he will always make sure you don’t go too far with it.

• Then maybe once you’re an adult he’ll smoke with you, who knows.

• But for now you’re too young !

———————————————

Sang-woo

————

• When he first catches you, it would be after you told him you were going to study at your friend’s house.

• He went to take you home and saw you holding the white cigs in your mouth, inhale what’s in it and take it off.

• He sighed to himself before going out of the car, taking it off your hands and crush it under his shoes. Your friends would be too scared to stay there to be honest.

‘’Seriously ?’’

• The ride back home would be silent before you broke it.

‘’It was just a one-time thing, I’m sorry.’’

‘’Just wait until you’re older, you’ll regret it otherwise.’’

• If you decided to wait, it would be for your ass sake, Sang-woo wouldn’t yell at you for that or anything, but he still can be scary in his own ways so you decided to wait.

• But if you do that again, he’ll take that thing out of your mouth every time.

• Definitely will join you once you’re older though, but will still make sure you don’t smoke too much and still cares for yourself.

——————————————

Sae-byeok

————

• She was going to see you at the shelter, you were with other teenagers that were going to school unlike you and they asked you if you wanted a puff.

• She frowned when she saw that thingy in your mouth, not sure how she should react.

• She went to you and immediately hit the back of your head, which made the cig fall from your fingers.

‘’What do you think you’re doing ?’’ She asked you, and that’s when you knew that you were screwed.

• She was sitting next to you after that.

‘’I’m sorry, it was just a one-time thing I promise, okay ?’’ You said, feeling guilt entering your guts.

‘’Well don’t do it again, you’re too young for that.’’ She said.

• There wouldn’t be anything else said, other than you nodding to her request.

• If you decide to smoke again when you’re older, she’ll tolerate it a little bit more, but will still take it off your hands if she thinks it’s too much.

Jun-ho

————

• When he sees you with the cigs between your two fingers it would be after he got off work.

• You would often wait for him outside of school to pick you up and this time he came sooner.

• He waited for you to finish your cigs with your friends, sighing as he was waiting, laying on his seat of his car.

• He was about to laugh by the look you gave him once you realised he was there, making the cig fall on the ground. You would go to his car with a nervous look.

‘’You had fun there ?’’ he asked.

• You sighed and get into the car, he didn’t leave yet though.

‘’I’m sorry, okay ? I never did it before that, it was a one-time thing.’’

‘’Look it’s fine, but you should wait before doing that, that’s my advice.’’

• If you decide to continue, he will be strict on when you can take a smoke, he won’t get mad at you for it though. He just wants what’s best for you.

• If you decide to stop, he’ll tell you he’s proud of you and try to show you other things to do instead of smoking.

• And if you’re older and start again, he knows that you’re grown up now, but will try his best to help you not get addicted too much.

——————————

[alwaysmarveling]

My Amazing Little Chef

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Warnings: It gets suggestive for all of 2 seconds (but goes absolutely nowhere)

Word Count: 2.6k

Summary: You and Nat are going to have a cooking class one way or another

“Nat, c’mon, we’re going to be late!” you yelled down the hallway, shrugging a denim jacket over your shoulders.

“You always say that,” your girlfriend half-scoffed, half-whined as she slid down the hallway.

“Because we’re always late.” You tossed her her own jacket. “And be careful when you do that, you’re going to slip.”

“You’re taking all the fun out of socks, mom,” Natasha smirked. “Besides, I would never slip. Think about who you’re talking to, babe. And I don’t need a jacket,” she dismissed, throwing the piece of clothing on the couch.

“Nat,” you deadpanned, standing up after putting on your shoes, “You say this every time, and then every time you complain on the way home that you’re cold.”

“Not every time,” the redhead pouted. She gracefully slipped on one shoe while balancing on the other leg. “I only do it when it’s outrageously cold. So it’s justified.” You couldn’t help but smile at her protruding bottom lip, kissing away her pout.

“Well, it wouldn’t be ‘outrageously cold’ if you just brought a jacket like I told you to.” Natasha eyed you warily as she put on her other shoe, upset to see you grabbing the piece of clothing back from the couch. “You don’t have to wear it now, just bring it. Please? For me?” You flashed her puppy dog eyes that you knew she couldn’t resist, holding back a smirk when you could see her not-so-hard resolve crumbling.

“Fine,” she sighed.

“Yay!” you squealed, and Nat couldn’t help but grin at the little jump you did subconsciously. “Now, let’s go.”

---

“See, this is why we should’ve never moved out of the Avengers tower. Out of all days for the car to break down, this had to be it?” You rubbed your forehead as the two of you reentered your house.

“I’m sorry, babe, I know how much you were looking forward to this.” Natasha frowned as she thought about her bike, which was currently sitting somewhere in the Avengers tower so Tony could give it some “much needed upgrades.”

“Yeah,” you sighed, peeling off the denim jacket and tossing it on the same couch Natasha had thrown hers less than fifteen minutes earlier. “I just thought it’d be something fun we could do together.” Your girlfriend picked up your jacket, hanging up yours and hers in the closet before stepping closer to you to squeeze your shoulders.

“Anything I do with you is fun, malyshka,” she reassured you, pecking you on the cheek. “On the bright side, they said we could go to another cooking class whenever we want, so we can always go another day. And one of us already knows how to cook, so we won’t die of hunger,” she teased, squeezing your hips.

“Yeah, but the second I go on a mission, you’re screwed, babe.”

“You’d leave me to starve?” Nat pouted. You turned around, a full smile now on your face.

“Of course not,” you whispered, your noses now less than a centimeter away from each other. You pressed your lips to hers, allowing yourself to melt into the kiss until you heard the former assassin’s stomach growl. “Someone’s hungry,” you giggled. “And I did just say I wouldn’t let you starve…”

“You did,” Natasha murmured, trying to meet your lips again. You gave in but pulled away too quickly for her liking. “Where are you going?” You tugged on her hands, pulling her towards the kitchen. “Where are we going?”

“We are going to have this cooking class whether the car wants to work or not. C’mon, we’ll make dinner together.” You pulled a cabinet open, flipping through various recipes.

“Hm, I do like doing things with you.” Natasha tapped her chin, pretending to think over your decision.

“Shut up, you dork,” you laughed. “Go wash your hands. How do you feel about pad thai?” you suggested after pulling out the recipe, shuffling through various cabinets and pulling out all the ingredients you needed. You’d made it a couple times before, and it could be fun to make together. Plus, pad thai wasn’t hard to make—which, let’s be honest, was essential if Natasha was involved—and it was definitely a tasty option.

“Oo, you do love me.” You snorted, the corners of your lips curling up slightly.

“Let’s just hope this turns out well.”

“I’ve got the pizza place on speed dial if it doesn’t.”

“You won’t need to call them if you just listen to me,” you sang over your shoulder, thinking back to the last time the two of you had tried to cook together. You’d turned away for two seconds, during which Natasha had added baking powder instead of flour to the pizza dough. She’d insisted she’d done it correctly when you pointed out the discrepancy in ingredients. Needless to say, the pizza you ate that night was not one that was baked in your kitchen.

“Oh, be quiet, you,” Nat chuckled, smacking your ass playfully as you walked by her. You squealed, and your girlfriend couldn’t help but giggle at your reaction.

“Are my ears failing me, or did the Black Widow just giggle?”

“Y/N L/N, I swear to god, I will kill you. We are in a kitchen. With knives. I can do it.” You let out a fake gasp as you finished washing your hands, turning off the sink.

“You know where the knives are? I didn’t know you’ve been around here enough to know that!”

“Babe,” Nat whined. “You’re being mean.” You smirked at the pout that had taken over her face.

“Alright, alright. I won’t tease you anymore. Besides, something tells me that you don’t need any knives to kill me.” Natasha hummed, kissing your lips long enough for you to taste the cherry chapstick coating her lips.

“That something would be correct.”

“Softie,” you whispered before slipping away from her. “Now,” you started before she could whine again, let’s begin. So, first, you want to break that up-”

“What even is that?” Your girlfriend stared at the solid brick, her brows scrunched in confusion and mouth slightly gaping.

“It’s tamarind pulp.”

“Tamarind- wh- why do we even have this?”

“For pad thai. You can use it to make other stuff too, Natty,” you explained.

“Yeah, but it looks so…”

“So… what? Trust me, love, regardless of how you think it looks, it’ll taste good. Just break that up, yeah?”

“Okay…” Natasha gave you one last glance before following your instructions. You turned around to get some water before she could notice you smiling at the adorable look of confusion on her face.

Ten minutes and some more ingredients and mixing later, the sauce was done.

“Look, detka, I did it!” You laughed at her reaction, pressing your lips gently to her cheek in response.

“Yes, you did. But we still have a long way to- Nat, what are you doing?”

“Don’t we need to taste test it?” she asked, her mouth still wrapped around her fingers.

“I mean, I guess, but- Natty!”

“What?” she questioned, looking at you from underneath her lashes as she dipped her fingers back into the sauce. “It’s good, and I made it. Therefore, I deserve a reward.”

“You’re going to eat all the sauce before we even make the actual dish,” you whined.

“Okay, but, babe. Just taste it, it’s so good.” She stuck her fingers into your mouth before you could protest, giving you a look until you swirled your tongue around her digits, gathering up all the sauce that coated them. You sucked on her fingers with a wink before letting them go.

“You happy now?” Natasha nodded slightly.

“But wasn’t it good? That’s why I need to have more.” You grabbed her wrist before she could dip it back into the sauce.

“No more. I’m hungry, and I’d like to have my dinner the way it’s supposed to be. And no more sticking your grubby little fingers into the food.”

“Fine,” Nat sighed dramatically. “But maybe a little dessert before dinner wouldn’t hurt, would it?” she murmured, her lips now less than an inch away from your ear. “I was thinking, ba-”

“Uh oh. I’m going to stop you right there. It’s never a good thing when you’re thinking.” Natasha opened her mouth to defend herself, but you started talking before she could. “Cooking class, Nat. You’re learning how to cook. That’s it.”

“But why do I need to learn how to cook when I’ve got the best meal I could ever ask for right in front of me?” Her arms snaked around your waist only for you to hit them lightly until she let go. Face burning, you had to admit you wouldn’t mind giving in, but you had a mission of sorts to finish: make dinner with Nat without anything extraordinarily bad happening. “You don��t want me?” the spy whispered, not willing to give up so easily. Before you could respond, the room filled with the sound of her stomach growling once again.

“I always want you,” you chuckled, “But I think you want this pad thai more than you’re letting on. Can we go back to cooking now? Please?”

“I suppose,” Natasha gave in. “But you owe me.”

“I guess I’m okay with that,” you winked at her. “Now, you need to wash your hands again before you get saliva everywhere, and I’m going to cut this chicken.” Your girlfriend gave you one last kiss before obliging.

“Just be careful, baby,” she started as you picked up the knife. “I don’t need you accidentally cutting yourself.”

“I won’t, Nat,” you rolled your eyes. You had just started to cut into the meat when you heard a rushing sound and a high-pitched hum from Natasha.

“What the-”

“Huh?” You looked up from the cutting board and were rewarded by a searing pain on your middle finger.

“Ow!”

“Are you okay?” Natasha turned the water off immediately before rushing to you, hands cupping yours. “Y/N, I literally just told you not to hurt yourself.”

“I’m sorry, I got distracted! The sink made that weird noise, and I’m clumsy. I just...”

“It was just the water pressure being all weird again, hon. Look,” Nat tsked. “You sliced the skin right off. Go wash that off while I grab a bandaid,” the redhead ordered. “And I’ll be doing the rest of the cutting tonight.”

“Nat, I’m fine. I can-”

“I don’t want to hear anything more from you. You cut yourself literally ten seconds after you said you wouldn’t. No more knife privileges for you tonight. Or maybe ever.”

“Natty,” you whined, this time it being your turn to pout. “I’m in pain, and you’re my girlfriend. I don’t need you chastising me, I need you comforting me.” You finished up washing your hands and met the woman at the counter. 

“Well, if you hurt yourself, I’m going to do both,” she muttered, concentrating on wrapping the bandaid around your still-bleeding appendage. When she finished, she lifted your hand gently, brushing her lips over the covered wound, her eyes never leaving yours. “Better?”

“Much.”

“Good. Now tell me how I’m supposed to cut this.”

“I guess, you’d say, what can me feel this way?” My girl...” Natasha sang along with the music as she tossed the food in the wok.

“Natty, be careful, you goof!” you giggled. Your girlfriend simply shook her head at you as she continued to sing, her hips swaying to the beat.

“My girl, my girl, my girl,” she winked. “Talkin’ ‘bout my girl, my girl!”

“Baby,” you laughed, “Pay attention to the food before it burns. You can sing later.” You turned down the volume of the speaker before Nat could get too carried away. “Okay, keep stirring the food in the wok,” you ordered. “I’ll be back in a second. Please don’t burn the house down before I get back.” You stepped away from your girlfriend for a second to grab some plates, chopped peanuts, bean sprouts, and the chicken you had cooked earlier.

“I’m not going to burn the house down,” Nat countered.

“I’m sensing some deja vu,” you warned, your back turned to your girlfriend. She simply rolled her eyes in response, taking her eyes off the wok to watch you and pushing some of the noodles out of the wok in the process.

When you turned back around seconds later, you sighed. “Natty, be careful. Look at the wok.” Upon seeing the now displaced noodles, the redhead let out a small breath as her shoulders dropped. “It’s okay, babe,” you reassured her, setting down everything before kissing her shoulder. “I would say you’ve done pretty well tonight. This is just a little slip-up. And look, no fire!”

“Yeah, no fire.”

“It’ll all be worth it when we get to eat. Speaking of which, this is almost done. You wanna go set the table, and I’ll finish this up?”

“Okay,” your girlfriend smiled. “Thank you, dorogaya.” Natasha pecked your cheek before going to grab the silverware.

“Couldn’t have done it without you, love,” you grinned, humming as you plated the dish. The sound of footsteps approached you from behind, and sure enough, Natasha wrapped her arms around your torso seconds later.

“Wow, that looks amazing. It smells even better.”

“You did that.” You brought one of your hands down and squeezed hers.

“I did do that, didn’t I? I did that,” Natasha said aloud, causing you to laugh. When you turned around, your heart melted at the look of pride on her face.

“My amazing little chef,” you praised, kissing her briefly. “Hey, Nat.” A smile grew on your lips as you got lost in your thoughts for a moment. “Do you think Tony can cook? Because if he can, do you think Pepper calls him her ‘iron chef’?” Natasha groaned at your joke.

“You’re way too cheesy, detka. And let’s keep the discussion on us. I do not need to be thinking about Tony’s love life.” Before you could turn back around to grab the food, Natasha pulled you back in for another kiss.

“Okay, okay,” you laughed when she finally let you go. “Are we going to stand here all day, or do you plan on letting us eat soon? Because I personally would like to do more than just stare at the food we made.”

“I guess we can eat,” Nat smirked as you brought the plates to the table.

---

“Hey,” you murmured, turning your face to look up at Natasha. She continued to run her fingers through your hair but shifted her gaze from her book to you. “Thanks for tonight. I had a lot of fun.”

“So did I,” Nat smiled. “Thank you for teaching me how to cook, printsessa.” You hummed for a moment before responding.

“I don’t know if I taught you how to cook. You still have a lot to learn, my young one.”

“Says the one who cut herself.”

“It was an accident! I was worried about you,” you protested. “I do hope we can go to that cooking class soon, though. Being your teacher is exhausting. No wonder Steve gets so aggravated with you during training.”

“Well, sorry,” your girlfriend scoffed, hitting your shoulder lightly. You dismissed her with a light kiss to the palm of her hand.

“It was really cute seeing you all excited and proud, though. I’d give anything to see you like that again.” Nat blushed, and you kept going. “Absolutely adorable, babe. You should’ve seen yourself.”

“Shut up and kiss me,” she finally interrupted you. “You taste like pad thai,” Nat chuckled.

“But it’s good though?”

“Mm, very good,” the redhead agreed, going back to her book.

“Like I said, it’s all thanks to my amazing little chef.”

[nightowlfandom]

Billy Loomis and Stu Macher x Reader- 27 (Part 3/Finale)

Read Part 1 | Read Part 2 

CHECKOUT MY MASTERLIST HERE!

Alright you weenies, here’s the last part of 27....

I realized I’ve also made an error, I forgot that they already killed her other boyfriend, so let’s say the ex they killed in the previous chapter was a different ex.

leggo

...

Today was the day and you were excited.

Vengeance, the cherry on top, the final piece of this damned puzzle. You had snapped. You were completely bloodthirsty now and you WISHED someone would try to stop you. You had come a long way. A VERY long way. It was safe to say both Billy and Stu rubbed off on you a tremendous amount and you were absolutely fucking ready!

It didn’t help that you had two killers hyping you up to all hell. From Billy whispering how many hours were left in the day to Stu commenting about how hot he’d think it would be to have sex in a pool of blood.

When it came time to leave, the boys offered to walk you home.

“So who you gonna get first?” Billy held your hand as Stu stood your opposite side with an arm around your shoulder. 

“Definitely the old man.” you declared. “I want to watch the life leave his eyes. He’s the reason behind all this.”

“How so?” Stu asked.

“He’s convinced I’m not really his child, he’s been trying to get me out of that house since I turned 12...” the guys noticed your significant mood change. “Nevermind that.” you shook your head. “My mom can fuck off with the rest of them, her and her can-do-no-wrong, perfect home bullshit.” you seethed. “I’ll explain while everything’s going down.”

...

“I’m home...if anyone gives a shit.” you grumbled the last part. You walked in to see your mother and father along with Hannah’s mother and father. They were all sitting at the table. Hannah’s mom and dad were bawling their yes out while your parents comforted them.

“Y/N...I’m glad your here.” you father spoke up. “We were talking about funeral arrangements.”

“For the daughter you wish you had instead of me? Not interested.” you rolled your eyes. “If you need me, I’ll be doing homework. Parentals, friends. Friends parentals.” you shortly introduced Billy and Stu to your folks. 

“Nice to meet you.” Billy managed to express. Stu put on a fake smile and waved. 

“Keep your door open so we can hear you!”

“Why would I close the door? You guys would just kick it open anyways.” you grunted. 

You had no reason to be cordial with your family anymore, just because they wanted to put on a show for your guests, you’d give them a damn show.

“Y/N don’t talk to your mother like that.”

“Then I’ll talk to Hannah’s family.” you turned to the two mortified adults.

You could see Billy and Stu out of the corner of your eyes, both looking like they were about to burst out laughing.

“Y/N we have nothing against you.” Hannah’s mom wept. “We knew Hannah could be a bit much.”

“Hannah was much? Oh No Mrs. Doyle. Your husband screwing around with your teenage secretary was much.” you crossed your arms. “Your daughter was a fucking nightmare and I’m glad no one has to put up with her shit anymore.”

You wanted to see just how far you could take this before your parents exploded. 

“Y/N L/N!” Your father rose from his seat, ready to storm over.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” Stu was first to stand in front of you. “Mr. L/N with all due respect, I’d advise you against that.”

“And just who do you think you are?” 

“The man whose about to be responsible for your funeral if you take another step.” Billy stood next to Stu, the both of them making a human wall, separating you from them. “Geez Y/N you weren’t kidding.”

“You should see our security camera footage.” you scoffed. 

“Well this has been a lovely chat but we really must be going.” Mrs. Doyle stood to her feet. 

“Oh nononono~” Billy sang with conviction. “Sit your asses down...let’s play a little game.” (I know Saw hadn’t been made yet, just go with it.)

...

Watching back the camera footage hurt a lot more than you thought it would. You couldn’t imagine how everyone else was feeling. Both of Hannah’s parents were tied up with blindfolds over their eyes. Stu had knocked out your dad and tied him to the table while Billy handled your mom, duct-taping her hands and wrists to a chair...

“Look at that. An innocent little girl...” Billy shook his head as he listed to your parents berate you to your face. You blocked everything out while you watched. How Hannah and her would smile in your face all the while being your biggest tormentors. How you couldn’t tell your mother or father because they never believed you the first ten times you tried. 

It was all crashing down on you now.

There was an eerie silence as your crying voice filled your own ears. You were used to crying yourself to sleep by that time. All of this happening a little before you met the boys.

“Y/N, whatever you have to tell us, we don’t have to involve them.” your mother sobbed.

“Mommy....you’re crying.” your voice broke as you opened your mouth to speak for the first time in a couple of hours. “But what about when I was crying?....What about when I was in the hospital scared for my life? What about when you guys were threatening to ship me across country....” much like you did with Hannah, you kicked the chair sending your mother falling back.

“And you.” you turned towards your dad. “I know you don’t believe I’m your biological daughter...and guess what...I hope I’m not either.” you growled, staring down at the now cowering man. “You are pathetic...both of you.” you turned back towards the TV screen. A video of you in your bedroom (since your parents didn’t believe in privacy) was playing. You were on the phone with your friend Kyla.

“No, no I know Ky.” you laughed. You had a much different laugh than you do now. “...I don’t know, it’s hard to trust cute faces like theirs.”

Your eyes widened as you listened to what you were saying. Before you could go to turn it off, Stu had taken you in a hug. “Oh no princess, don’t be rude...let the video play!”

“Do I like them?....Maybe...okay totally!” you watched yourself squeal as you threw the pillow you were hugging across the room. “Kyla I wish you were here to see them THEY ARE SO-” you covered your mouth to stop from shouting too loud. “They are so cute and so hot and they wanna be seen with me!...of all people! No I’m not gonna make a move on them.”

“Awww Y/N has a crushy wushy on us!” Stu gushed. “We love you too baby!” Stu abruptly kissed you, right there. You almost forgot Billy was standing there. 

“Woah...” you almost lost balance. 

“Young lady! How dare you-” You father tried to said.

“Oh shut up!” Stu took it upon himself to finish the job. 

(OKAY SHEILD YOUR EYES NOW)

Stu wrapped a hand around your dad’s neck and applied pressure, so much to the point where his face went blue within a mere 5 seconds. Stu laughed maniacally, only seeming to tighten his grip while Billy continued to antagonize your mother, laughing in her face while she watched the horror happen with her husband.

“Y/N...why?” your dad choked as he struggled.

“Why not...and while we’re here.” you shrugged. “I killed Hannah.”

“WHAT?”

You almost forgot Hannah’s parents were in the room, listening to everything go down.

“Oh yeah.” you shrugged. “Bitch had it coming...the better question is what should I do to you two.” you crossed your arms as you thought.

...(Time skip)

“Pretty isn’t it.” You gazed up at the stars. 

“Not as pretty as you.” Billy flirted, using his sleep to wipe your face. As you all sat on the front steps of your porch, ambulances and cop cars lined up the street for many blocked.

“I agree.” Stu wrapped an arm around you waist. “Be honest, how do you feel?”

“I feel free.” you replied, letting out a large sigh. The cops had just finished questioning you. Your story was clear. Your dad lunged at your mom first and Hannah’s parents saw too much...then he accidently tripped and hung himself. Perfect crime. Billy and Stu were walking by when they heard your cries for help and they hopped in.

As to how you three managed to escape unscathed, they got you out of there in time just as he was hanging himself. As for the tapes playing on the T.V...they were watching old videos to find something to ground you for. (Something they usually did anyways.)

“Good.”

“I just don’t know where I’m gonna live now. My aunt lives the next city over and that’s a long drive.”

“Hm...just gonna have to live with us now!” Stu shrugged, we’ll all be like a married couple!

“All...as in-”

“Yes, the three of us.” Billy grabbed your attention. “Lucky you, eh?” He pecked your lips when the officers wasn’t looking just as Stu planted a smooch on the back of your head.

“Young lady.” the officer walked up to you three. “You’re lucky to have escaped them, that psychopath stabbed your mother 27 times...who does that?!”

You paused before you gave your answer. “I guess he was just fed up, officer.” 

Stu tried hard to contain his laughter while Billy coughed into his hand, you all knowingly shared a look.

Yes...fed up indeed.

(So...I guess this slasher stuff might be a regular thing...I kinda like it)