torasplanet

[torasplanet]

❝𝙆𝙄𝙎𝙎 𝙇𝘼𝙉𝘿.ᐟ❞

NERD! A. ARLERT + PARTY GIRL! F. READER

𝙨𝙪����𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮 ; you and armin have always been close...a little too close some might say but a couple drinks and an edible at a concert makes you grow closer than before.

𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜 ; smut, fluffy(maybe??) public makeout, public fingering, emo!eren because I haven't seen that before, goth!mikasa, college au, reader can also be perceived as scene, praise, and reader skin color not mentioned

marls notes 2 u(*´▽｀*) ; comeback era! i couldn't resist but write a little something after seeing this armin fanart!! creds to @musapylsa for her art!! wrote this in one night

“C’mon, wake up. I can’t do all your work, y’know?” Armin says in your ear as you raise your head to look up at him with a pout. Armin’s cheeks bloom slightly pink at the sight of your messy hair sprawled on your face with that pout.

Sitting up, you groan as you lean back in your chair. “I’m not sleeping. I’m just thinkin’...” You mutter not listening to a single word of this boring ass lecture. You’re too tired, too. All you’ve been thinking about is what to do tonight, it feels like forever since you’ve done something. I mean, yes, you have gone out a lot, but when do you not? You just want to do something with your friends because they’re not party people like you are, well, maybe Eren is, but still not the level you are.

You’ve been so busy thinking about something you all would enjoy. “About what? You never think.” Armin says with a smile as you playfully glare at him. You slowly begin to copy some of his notes as you sigh.

“I was thinking about what to do tonight.” You admit as you lean almost on the blonde’s shoulder to read his handwriting. Armin nearly bursts into flames at how close you are to him, he gets so flustered easily around you. He just can’t help it when you’re so beautiful. 

“Didn’t you go out last night? Would it kill you to stay inside for a day?” Armin asks. He doesn’t get how you can constantly go outside and go party, he’s not really a party person. It’s mainly because he doesn’t like being there when you’re talking to other people, he gets jealous, and then he gets upset because he doesn’t have the right to be jealous. Armin’s feelings for you have always been more than a friend’s feelings should be, and to be honest, you have as well.

Those blue eyes and blonde hair have captivated you since high school, and you’ve never made a move, but you can’t help but let your stare linger when he’s around. “Probably. I wanted to do something with you guys because you don’t like parties, and I was thinking about something we could do.” You said, shrugging your shoulders. You know that parties aren’t all college is about, but there has to be some balance between all of that work and the parties, because all of this work is definitely a hassle.

An idea then sparks in your mind. “Oh! We could go to a concert, there’s one happening late tonight!” You say it louder than a whisper. A concert is the perfect idea, all four of you guys have gone to countless concerts together over the years, and it’s been fantastic.

Armin blinks at you through his glasses. “How are you going to manage getting tickets this last minute?” He asks in disbelief. Over the years and all the people that he’s known over the years, you’re the craziest person he’s known; not in the terms of partying or drinking, but because you always have the craziest ideas that always somehow manage to work out.

I mean, what do you mean you’re going to find four tickets to a concert the same day? “I’ll find out somehow. What, you don’t trust me?” You say flirtatiously as you lean close to Armin’s face, watching with glee as his face brightens up with a blush. Armin avoids eye contact with you as he feels his pants getting tighter.

“No, no! I do…I just…I don’t know.” Armin stammers over his words as you just stare up into him, fluttering your eyelashes. You grin and laugh. Armin is such a cutie, you’ve always wanted to make a move on him, but…you’ve been too scared that maybe it would mess up the group. Not to sound cocky but you were sure that he wouldn’t reject you, the way he looks at you, the way he’d be so nervous whenever you were a bit close. You were sure you could have him, but it wasn’t worth losing your other friends over. You just wanted all of you to be friends and…you were waiting for this to pass.

I guess it was taking a bit too long to pass. “Then trust me. We’ll be there tonight.” You say with a grin as you place your hand on his thigh, not missing the hard-on in his jeans and definitely not missing how it gets harder with your fingers placed on the seam of his pant leg.

Armin doubted you, even though he knew that you would find some way to do it. Just when he thought you would never get the tickets for this 8:30 PM concert and it was turning 7:00, he and Eren get that call from you with Mikasa in the background screaming about how fucking lucky the four of you are and how they should get ready. He couldn’t believe his ears. 

“I think tonight, I’m definitely gonna make a move on Mikasa,” Eren says as he smudges his eyeliner in the mirror, as Armin pulls his green tee over the white long-sleeve. Armin almost breaks his neck with how fast he turns to Eren. It’s not like it’s that new of a topic, he’s heard Eren drunkenly talking about how fucking hot he thinks Mikasa is but he usually assumed it’s just guy talk. Lots of guys will call their female friends hot and never want to make a move, not because they can’t, but just because he doesn’t want to date her, but Eren has never talked about Mikasa like this before.

“What? You actually are gonna like…ask her out?” Armin says, trying to figure out the right words. He’s been talking the same in terms of this since middle school, if he had a quarter for every time someone would make fun of him for that, he wouldn’t be in student debt right now.

Eren turns his head as he pauses his smudges. “I mean, yeah. You think she’s not into me?” Eren says, turning back toward the mirror. Of course, Armin doesn’t think that everyone he’s ever met has been into Eren. He just thinks that maybe this will create a rift in the friend group, like maybe they’ll start dating and just start doing things on their own and never meet up with him or you ever again.

Armin hums nervously. “No…maybe she does, but like, don’t you think it’ll kind of ruin the group?” Armin asks. Not so much worried about them but about his feelings for you, he’s thought that maybe acting on his feelings would affect all of you guys’ friendship. If Eren doesn’t care and if Mikasa doesn’t care, then maybe that’s a green light.

Eren shrugs. “No, do you think so? I think it’ll just be us but like me and Mikasa are fucking like you and [Y/N].” He says with a teasing tone, which makes Armin blush. Eren had never stopped teasing Armin for his crush on you since he found out about it. Armin always denies it, but Eren does not believe him.

Eren has not believed him since the day he woke up to Armin moaning your name in his sleep. “We’re not! I don’t know why you keep saying that.” Armin says, embarrassed as he rolls his eyes. “And I don’t think it’d be weird…” He finishes as he stuffs his hands into his pockets.

The brunette turns around and faces his childhood friend with a smug grin. “Great then…Maybe, I don’t know, maybe you can start tonight. Finally show her that new piercing. Because I’m sure, and Mikasa would be relieved once you two finally get together.” Eren says, gesturing to Armin’s mouth. Armin groans in annoyance. He hadn’t been intentionally hiding his new tongue piercing, you just hadn’t noticed for some reason. I mean, you definitely noticed how in the first few weeks of getting his piercing, he would speak in whispers and barely open his mouth, but after a few excuses, you stopped pushing it.

Armin did not even want the piercing. Eren had convinced him to get it because he was getting his eyebrow pierced and didn’t want to do it alone, claiming that the eyebrow piercing pain would be so harsh, and Armin should get a lighter piercing to help him with it. Armin fell for that bullshit just to have his tongue swollen and painful for weeks while Eren walked around pain free with a new piercing.

“You are so crude. We’re just really close friends, nothing about it.” Armin says, adjusting his glasses. Eren does not buy that excuse whatsoever, but he decides not to push it anymore because it will ultimately end in nothing.

Eren pushes his hair back into a man bun before shrugging. “Whatever, we should head over there, right?” He says, and Armin nods, watching as the man digs in his drawer and slips something in his pocket, but he doesn’t bother to say anything about it.

The two men walk over to the door and open it just to see the two girls in front of it with Mikasa’s hand raised as if she were getting ready to knock. “Oh hey, we were literally about to get you.” She says with a smile on her face, although Armin is having a hard time focusing on her words when he’s too busy staring at you. That skirt is so flowy, and that tank hugs you so nicely that he can’t help but stare at your chest. With how the two of you girls are dressed, he feels as though he’s underdressed with just his dark-washed jeans and his layered shirts. 

You notice his gaze on your body and grin, but you don’t say anything about it. “We got drinks. We can pregame on the train. let’s go.” You say, grinning at the boys, smiling a bit too hard at the blonde. You guys would be taking the train if it wasn’t for Eren crashing his fucking car when he was drunk-driving but instead, you’re on the train to a concert. 

It doesn’t take too long to get to the train station, and it doesn’t take long for the train to come either. “I know you’re not really a drinker, so you won’t need that much.” You say to Armin as you two sit in a two-seater on the train in front of Eren and Mikasa, who had sat in the same seat. Armin gulps as you open up the bottle before holding it out to him. From how eager you are to drink with him, it makes him think you had a pregame for the pregame. “Open up, baby boy.” You say, grabbing hold of his chin, which makes the blonde’s legs shake in excitement. His hands go to the bottom of his shirt in an effort to pull it down and cover his boner.

Armin opens his mouth as he lifts his head in the air before you begin to pour the alcohol into his mouth until half of it is gone. Your gaze lingers on his Adam's apple bobbing from his swallowing rather than the colored liquid that falls into his mouth. Armin finally swallows the last bit and lets his lips linger on the opening, seemingly drinking down whatever was dripping, and looks at you as his face contorts into one of displeasure as if he had eaten an entire lemon. “Gross. You couldn’t have found a better tasting one?” Armin mutters as he sticks his tongue out in disgust, and there’s a gleam in your eyes.

You look as if you had just seen an angel yourself. “When did you get that?” You ask, almost dazed as you point at the ball on the flat of his tongue.

Armin sucks his tongue back into his mouth as he gulps. “A couple of weeks ago, I think a month. Eren convinced me.” He says with an awkward chuckle as he scratches the back of his neck, still coming back from the awful taste in his mouth. 

You think you’ll thank Eren for the rest of your life for this. You feel your panties sticking to your body just at the mere sight of that, and all the thoughts flood through your brain about what he could do with that. “It…it looks good.” You say with a ridiculous, silly smile on your face as you down the rest of the drink. Armin’s eyes linger on your lips wrapped around the opening, it’s almost like an indirect kiss, but it is not enough for him. He needs your lips on his, he needs your lips everywhere on his body.

“You guys want edibles?” Eren says, and Armin nods a bit too fast. Armin has always been more of a smoker rather than a drinker, and by smoker, he means eating edibles. It makes him feel better than drinking because he doesn’t think when he’s high; drinking makes him think so much that he can’t control what he’s saying. He needs to be both to balance it out. “There’s only two, so share,” Eren says, handing the boy a gummy.

Armin smiles before biting half of the gummy and offering it to you. You grin at the boy before leaning down and eating the other half, biting his fingers just a little bit with the most shit-eating smile on your face in the world. Armin is about to cum in his pants if you don’t stop what you’re doing. He knows you know what you’re doing. You know it too. You smile at him before leaning on his side and resting your head against his shoulder.

The blonde has always disliked how much of a tease you were. Grabbing his thigh, lying on him, holding him, you know the things that make him tick, and you know what makes his jeans get tighter, and you use it against him. It makes him so angry, but he can never stay angry with you. How could anyone? “You got those tongue piercings for the girls, huh? Want to learn new tricks to show off?” You say, peering up at Armin, who feels as though the alcohol is already hitting him. 

He scoffs, ignoring the heat on his face. “No…I just thought it’d be cool…” Armin says, shrugging his shoulders. Armin won’t lie, well, at least not in his head, he had thought about it a lot. He had thought about you a lot since this tongue piercing. He had thought about how bad he wanted to pry those legs apart and have his fit of blonde locks stuffed between them with his glasses in your hand as the other grabs at his hair as if he’s going to send you into a coma with how the ball of piercing rolls onto your clit.

Your moans would echo into his ears as he tried to stop himself from pouncing on you and ruining you. It’s been the center of his fantasy for a while, he’s dreamt about it while sneaking his hands in his pants, hoping Eren would be out for the rest of the night. Or when he’s in the bathroom with the shower running, trying to cover his whimpers. 

“Really? I’m surprised a little pervert like you hasn’t thought of anything like that, I definitely would.” You tease before looking away, but Armin does not miss how your hand lands on his thigh. He furrows his brows as he shuffles in his seat, already feeling the reality in front of him warping slightly. “Oh, we’re here.�� You say as you remove your hand before standing from your seat as the train stops.

Armin says nothing as he stands as well and follows the three of you out of the train. You’ve always been touchy, but something about tonight makes him feel different than before. Maybe it’s his talk with Eren earlier and the fact that he knows that neither Eren nor Mikasa would care if anything happened between the two of you. Maybe he will do something tonight. I mean, he’s already seen Eren and Mikasa flirting not so subtly tonight. You don’t care. He doesn’t care. It won’t be that big of a deal.

By the time you four get to the concert, you’re about thirty minutes late and already drunk off your asses with all the bottles gone as well as high. “Oh my god! We got here just in time for the perfect song!” You screech as soon as you get done showing the security the tickets. Grabbing Mikasa’s hand, you drag her into the standing section, stumbling over your feet, listening to her laugh aloud. 

The two of you sing aloud with the lyrics, not caring if you can’t feel your throat in the morning or how sore your vocal cords will get. You smile at the black-haired girl as you run your fingers through her hair, which she has let down for once in a while. “You look so pretty tonight!” You scream at her as she smiles with her black lipstick stretching across her lips.

The girl stares at you with glee. “You look even better,” Mikasa says, and you giggle at her. “Can I tell you a secret?” She asks to get closer to whisper to you. The girl glances a few feet in front of you at the boys, particularly Eren, and you notice this and know the secret is about him, so you nod. “I think I wanna…take Eren to bed tonight? We’ve been flirting all night.” Mikasa says with a grin as she briefly licks her lips without her lipstick faltering, not a bit, you might have to ask her what brand that is after all of this happens.

“Really? I mean, I’m not hating but…you don’t think that’ll like fuck up all of our group? Y’know what happened after that whole Sasha and Niccolo thing.” You say. Ever since you’ve witnessed how Sasha, Connie, and Jean have been a tad bit distant since they started dating, you didn’t want that to happen to you four. It’s not like they stopped being friends, but they just weren’t the same as before. That was your biggest fear.

Mikasa shrugged. “I don’t think so. I think it’ll be the same, we won’t make out in front of you all. It’ll be us, but sometimes we’ll do our own thing like normally, y’know?” She says, and you nod before smiling and laughing. Maybe it really isn’t that big of a deal, then if you do something with Armin, now you feel all silly for thinking that all of that time. 

“Then yeah. You should, I can get him for you!” You say getting excited about Mikasa finally finding someone for her. For eras and phases of your lives, you’ve heard Mikasa talking about finding her true love, and maybe Eren might not be that person, but you’re still happy for her for finding someone anyway!

Mikasa gasps. “You don’t have to, we can have our time, and then I could do that.” She says, and you shake your head at her words. You don’t take it very personally if she wants to spend time with Eren tonight, because with this newly found information, you have a new mission on hand.

You give her a sly grin this time. “Don’t worry, Armin will entertain me while you deal with emo over there.” You say, and Mikasa returns your grin before leaning forward to gently peck your cheek as a thanks for your actions. It’s not so much a sacrifice, it’s almost like a blessing for Mikasa because you can’t remember the last time she’s gotten some dick.

Slipping away from the girl, you head over to the two boys who are chatting and tap on Eren’s shoulder. “Mika wants you over there.” You say with a smirk on your glossy lips. Eren’s eyes light up with joy, and he shares a look with his best friend before scooting away toward the gothic girl, as you stay where you are watching as he does so. Once they start talking, you shift your gaze over to the boy you’re left with. It seems he had already been staring at you, not sparing a glance for his friend.

“Hey.” You say loud enough he can hear as you gaze up at him through your lashes, blinking slowly. Armin stares at you as if he had never seen you a day in his life with those reddened scleras through the clear glass of his square glasses that hang low on his nose. 

'Cause the only thing you're takin' is your clothes off. Go 'head, girl, strip it down, close your mouth

“Hey.” He says more as a whisper, but you can still hear him. You smile as you hear your favorite song play; you hadn’t even realized it had been playing this entire time. It’s almost the perfect moment for it to settle in.

Oh yeah, don't hold back, let it out. (Nothing is going to change my love for you)

Armin looks so ethereal right now. The green lights from the stage flash behind him, and he stares at you whilst you walk just a bit closer to him. Your arms slink over his shoulders as you sway to the song, and his body slowly follows your own. His hands fall to your hips, holding them as if they belong there and for both of you. Armin swears that he can’t feel anything in this moment except you.

(Nothing is going to change my love for you). Oh girl, don't hold back, let it out. (Nothing is going to change my love for you) (Nothing is going to change my love for you)Don't hold back, let it out

He can’t see anything except your eyes staring at him. He can’t hear anything but your lips whispering the lyrics of the song. Fuck, he can’t even hear the song. You’re the only thing he notices right now. Armin would have it no other way. When your hands fall from his shoulders, his hands fall from your waist as he watches you screech your heart out to the song, knowing that it was your favorite. It was newbie knowledge that it was your favorite. Of course, he’s known this since high school.

(Nothing is going to change my love for you) (Nothing is going to change my love for you)

Oh yeah, don't hold back

Armin’s heart speeds up as he watches you, his breathing grows faster and harsher as his lips quirk up in the slightest smirk. Eventually, you notice his stare and lack of movement and stare back at him, expecting something to be wrong, but he says nothing. Armin smiles at you as he breathes heavily. The light flashes between his smiles, and almost as if it’s a movie, every time the light gets bright once more, he gets closer. Your heart speeds up as you stand frozen, watching him move.

I got a brand new place, I think I've seen it twice all year; I can't remember how it looks inside. So you can picture how my life's been

Armin doesn’t even register what he’s doing; he can barely register that he’s moving, and it’s not because of his lack of sobriety. It’s because of you. All he wants is you, and his body knows it much more than his mind does. “Can I kiss you?” He mutters once he’s face-to-face with you. He can feel your breath on his lips as he stares down at you through his glasses. His tongue pokes from his lips, and he runs it over his lips, making them soft and bouncy.

I went from staring at the same four walls for 21 years, to seein' the whole world in just 12 months. Been gone for so long, I might have just found God

For once, a man has made you anxious. Your hands are shaky along with your thighs, your panties are completely soaked as you stare at the glasses-clad man. Looking to your side, you see that Mikasa and Eren have already begun to make out. Without a thought in your mind, you turn back to Armin, who is patiently awaiting your answer, already knowing what it is. You grab hold of his fogged-up glasses and push them up into his bangs before smashing your lips into his own soft ones.

Well, probably not, if I keep my habits up

You press your lips against his before allowing his tongue to poke into your mouth. His hands grab at your hips harsher than the first time as he presses his body roughly against yours as if there’s a wall behind you that’d support the two of you. Your hands hold onto his jaw as you two make out passionately, moaning and groaning into the kiss. It feels like you’ve been waiting for ages for this, and you have. Armin has as well, and he kisses as such.

Probably not if I can't keep up with lovin'. And I can't stand talkin' to brand new girls

He’s hungry. Starving almost. His boner pokes you harshly as he tries to get relief by grinding into you. One of his hands falls to your skirt and slowly sneaks up it and between your thighs, which have gotten stuck together at this point. You separate your legs, giving him access to do what he pleases with you. The pads of his fingers slide over your underwear that aren't hiding anything, his finger practically drags along your slit which makes you shiver.

Only bitches down to fuck when you shower them with ones. Probably not if my n*ggas round them up

Armin runs his tongue over your lip, the ball of his tongue ring lingering on your bottom lip before he briefly detaches his lips from yours to look at you. “This all for me?” Armin mutters into your ear as his lips go to your neck. You whine with a nod as you feel his fingers sliding past the band of your panties and sliding them to the side as if they were nothing but a door holding him back from the gift of life. “How many nights you did this to yourself, thinkin’ about me?” Armin whispers to you as his thumb circles around your clit which makes you squirm almost closer your legs on him but a bite on your neck makes you stop.

Probably not if we take 'em to my spot

“Every.” You mutter as his fingers slip into your hole immediately poking at the sweetest spot in your body as he continues to toy with your clit. This sweet spot is what Armin has wanted to poke at his entire life of knowing you. “Every…night.” You moan as he bites and sucks onto your neck rolling his tongue ring over the base of your neck. You feel your release coming closer and closer, and squeeze your legs tight.

Probably not if I tweak all day just to sleep at night. Goddamn, I'm high

“C’mon, be good. Let me make you feel good.” Armin mutters flirtatiously to you as his fingers move faster inside of you, chasing that release almost as if it’s his own. He wants it to be his own but from how hard his dick is inside of his boxers, he’s sure he can get it just from watching your face twist and having your thighs trap his hands.

My doctor told me to stop. And he gave me somethin' to pop

You mutter apologies as you grip onto his shoulders, rocking your hips into his hand desperately as if it’s your first orgasm ever. “Armin, I’m cumming. Oh god, I love you so much. Please, ugh!”

You moan louder than you anticipated, but you’re sure no one can hear you, and even if they can, they don’t care. “Uhn! ‘Min!” You mewl into him as you come undone all onto his hand, filthying his fingers and the insides of your thighs. 

And I mix it up with some Adderall. And I wait to get to the top

“That’s it. So good for me. My pretty girl.” Armin says as he slowly pulls his hands from you, as you whine, wanting another one. You want more and more until you can’t take it anymore. Armin groans as he shows you your slick all over his fingers as it shines in the flashing lights. He ticks that pierced tongue of his out, and you drowsily gaze at the piercing and how his fingers slide onto his tongue, and your slick paints his pink tongue along with the silver ball. He sucks on his fingers moaning at your taste.

And I mix it up with some alcohol, and I pour it up in a shot. I don't care about you, why you worried 'bout me?

The sweetest taste he’d ever had. He can’t tell if it actually tastes that amazing or if it’s fascination for you taking over his entire body, even if his taste buds. “Tastes so nice.” He says, looking at you with those half-lidded eyes. You stare at him and tiredly shove his glasses back onto his face, missing the nerdy look of the man. He leans forward and kisses you once more with the same passionate feeling but less roughness. Less neediness because he has you.

All I want is that smoke, give me all of that smoke. Last week was my rough week

Armin has never been one to get what he wants in this world, and he certainly did not think he would be able to score a girl he’s had a crush on since sophomore year, but here he is. He can say he’s won at life officially. Jean, Eren, and Connie’s sex stories have nothing on this, he doesn’t care what they have to say. Armin’s lips leave yours, and you whine at the missing feeling, making him grin. “Want to be my girlfriend?” He asks, putting his hand on your waist.

I'm still drippin' down from my nose. And I don't know how to drive, I make my driver get high

You roll your eyes at him. “I just told you I loved you when you were fingering me, is that even a question?” You say as you huff out a breath, still coming down from your orgasm that Armin had just provided for you.

But if he goes under that 110, believe my driver will get fired. And I don't got any friends, I got XO in my bloodwork

Armin laughs and hugs you with no words coming from him. “I’m glad I wasn’t just a hit and miss.” He mutters, and you smile. Armin could never be a hit and miss for you, you knew that the day you had Armin you wouldn’t desire to have anyone else and for a guy who looks and talks as though he has never felt a woman’s touch or anyone’s touch for that matter, he knows how to work his fingers pretty fucking well. Maybe all those wet dreams he had and all that porn did something right.

And I'm posted up down in Florida. Ft. Lauderdale to that MIA

He eventually detaches his form from you and just lets one arm wrap around your waist as he focuses on the concert for once this night, even though he still cannot believe what he has achieved tonight. Looking over, he sees Eren, who briefly looks over at him, and they share a look. Eren bites his lip and looks over at you with raised eyebrows, and Armin grins at him, not noticing how you and Mikasa share the same look.

Cold drinks with Grand Marnier. To the break of dawn, Kahlua milk

Mikasa gives you a thumbs-up, which switches to a thumbs-down, asking how it went, but you’re so exhausted that you cannot even lift your arm. You give your friend a sleepy smile as you lean further into Armin and watch the dots connect in her mind until she grins at you. Still, you don’t think she’ll understand what has just happened, let alone the feeling of it all, not only pleasure-wise but mentally. Maybe she’ll just have to hear about it on a rant tomorrow because you’re definitely not letting Armin leave your side until he’s under the blankets with you.

©torasplanet .ᐟ reblogs and likes are very appreciated! pls do not repost!!

[torasplanet]

IF I WAS A RICH GIRL ♡

pairing: bodyguard!jason todd x bratty!fem!reader x bodyguard!dick grayson

summary: for the first time ever, jason needs dick's help with a client. upon meeting you, dick understands why. you're a handful - bratty, needy, the whole deal. luckily for everyone involved, dick has a soft spot for brats and jason has a tendency to follow in his footsteps.

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, fingering, threesome, voyeurism, exhibitionism, hair pulling, praise/degradation, gun play, brat taming, dacryphilia

wc: 12.9k

a/n: i did not intend for this to be so long, but i am physically incapable of shutting the fuck up unfortunately. anyways comm for the sweetest ever @fearcvlt. thank you again hehe. as always reblogs and comments are appreciated <3

part 2

Dick watched the numbers above the elevator door light up one at a time. Every couple seconds, the soft glow moved one space to the right. It started with 1, 2, 3 and now landed on 67, 68, 69. Finally 70 lit up and a soft ding sounded through the cabin.

He shifted his duffel bag on his shoulder and took a deep breath. When Jason had texted him a few days ago, he made this situation sound dire.

Dick had been in the middle of working out, pulling himself up and down using the rings hanging from the ceiling of the gym. The chime of his phone pulled him from the focus that came with his muscles burning and sweat dripping from his hairline.

'Are we allowed to drop clients?' was the first message he saw.

But then another quickly followed.

'It's been a full twenty-four hours.'

At first he wondered if it was a joke, but Jason didn't really joke about clients.

He tried thinking to himself what case he'd even been assigned to. That gig at the shipping yard had wrapped up by now, and that stalking victim had canceled on them for another security firm.

Then he remembered. That Monday Jason was supposed to start with the senator's daughter.

Something must have really been wrong for him to want to drop that. It was one of the best jobs they'd been offered since starting up their agency. It was full-time protection, meaning round the clock, 24/7 pay.  Also a high profile contractor like a senator meant word of mouth getting around to his colleagues, similar types who would want some security for their own twenty-something-aged brats.

'We can't drop her. Maybe I can see about someone swapping cases with you. Did something happen?' was all he responded with.

The reply was instant. 'I'll take literally anything else.'

'She can't be that bad,' he sent in return.

'You take her then. Find out for yourself.'

He rolled his eyes at his dramatics. There was no way you could really be so awful. While Jason didn't joke about work that much, he loved to complain. Shaking his head, Dick typed back a final message.

'Keep your head for the next few days. I'll come see what I can do over the weekend.'

So that was what he planned on doing for at least the next five or so days. He had said the weekend, but it was Thursday now, and he didn't have to do anything else till next Wednesday. Plus, he figured Jason would try his hardest to rope him in for longer if things with you hadn't changed.

He walked into the entrance hall of the penthouse, eyes briefly scanning his surroundings like they always do upon entering somewhere new. The design was sleek. A classy white end table sat below a large mirror with delicate decorations adorning its surface. A plush rug rolled down the hallways to a set of French doors.

One glance around told him this was all expensive. Every detail chosen by someone young, experiencing their first taste of independence. It was cute in a way. At least he thought so. He could only imagine the distaste Jason had reacted with upon seeing the pink candles or vases of dainty flowers.

He continued in the direction of what he assumed was the living room. Though he had only taken a few more steps across the fuzzy rug before he heard loud voices muffled by the doors ahead. He paused and narrowed his eyes for a moment, trying to determine the severity.

The first voice he knew belonged to Jason. It boomed with annoyance, loud and brash. The other was higher pitched.  He waited a few moments, feeling out the rhythm of the argument. Back and forth, back and forth. There was no third party, which meant it wasn't any serious danger.

He took another breath and braced himself to be put in the middle of whatever spat you two were having. Jason still hadn't been clear about what his exact problem with you was, so he didn't know what to fully expect. From the few things he had said over the phone, he gained the impression you were just a spoiled rich girl, and Jason's temper wasn't made to deal with any of those.

Grabbing one of the bronze handles, Dick pushed the door open. From where he stood in the alcove that held the doors, he didn't think either of you had noticed him enter.

The scene looked as he expected. Jason leaned against the pristine ivory island in the kitchen while you stood at the back of the large taupe sectional that spanned through the living area. You had your arms crossed over your chest, your foot looking as if you had just stamped it on the hardwood below. Jason, on the other hand, appeared as though he was about to explode. His fingers rubbed at his eyes before he spoke.

"For the last goddamn time, I'm not taking you, so find something else to do.”

"No. It's not your job to tell me what to do. You're only getting paid to follow me around where I wanna go," you retorted.

"I'm not taking you to the fucking mall!" he exclaimed, flinging his arms open, "Christ, you have a cell phone, a laptop, and an ipad. You could probably even use that watch you got on your wrist to shop."

"But it's not the same," you pouted.

Upon hearing that, it seemed like Jason's brain was actually on the verge of malfunctioning. In an attempt to help out, Dick walked the rest of the way in.

"Am I interrupting something?" he asked, his voice much cooler than the tense argument that preceded it.

Immediately, both sets of eyes were on him. Jason's features melted into relief while yours swirled with curiosity.

"Is this your boss?" you asked. Your arms fell to smooth out the small shorts you had on before they rose again to make sure your hair was in place.

Meanwhile, a sneer spread on Jason's face again. "No. We're partners," he said.

"C'mon, Jason. I like to think of us as friends before coworkers," Dick teased and flashed a smile. That earned him one out of you in return. Right then, he knew this would be easy.

He headed over to the area where you stood, and acting charming as ever, stuck his hand out in search of yours.

You gladly returned the exchange, offering your palm up for shaking like a trained puppy.

"I'm Dick Grayson," he introduced. He wrapped his fingers around your hand with a firm grip.

Your smile widened before those soft lips parted to expel the syllables of your own name. You were being so much sweeter now that your sights had been set on someone besides Jason. Jason, who was currently watching with a mix of disbelief and irritation as your bratty temperament melted away before his eyes.

"Would you mind showing me where I could put my stuff?" Dick asked.

"Oh sure," you answered, "Follow me."

You waved him in your direction before prancing through an archway that led to a small area with a few doors and the stairs.

"I'll just show you where everything is while we're at it. That's the main bathroom. That's the office. And then up the stairs is where all the bedrooms are."

He followed behind you through the small room and then up the curved staircase. Jason trailed behind him, watching like this mask of pleasantness would fall away to reveal your true attitude any second.

Your hips swayed as you walked up each step. He felt like the way your ass jutted out a little as they did was intentional, but it didn't matter. Dick could be professional when he needed to be. He kept his eyes averted and stayed along your path.

After the stairs, you led them down a thin strip of lofted walkway that overlooked the living room and kitchen. With one hand on the silver railing, you explained each door that lined the wall as you went.

"That's the smaller living room. That's the second bathroom. That's the guest room Jason is staying in. And here is yours," you said as you got to the second to last door. You pushed it open and gestured proudly at the space.

"Looks nice. Thank you," he said before heading in. 

He tossed his bag on the bed and glanced around. It truly was nice. The bed looked like one out of a five star hotel. The end tables were polished and seemed as though they'd never seen a visitor throughout their time here. And then there were the floor-to-ceiling windows against the farthest wall. There was nothing to see outside right now. This floor rested so high up, clouds engulfed the glass panes.

"Mhm," you hummed before biting your lip, "And my room is the last door. There's always extra space in my bed if you don't like this one."

"But I thought you said I was a perv for suggesting that?" Jason interjected and shot you a glare from where he leaned against the door frame.

"Ummm, yeah, you are," you deadpanned, "I'm offering it to him, not the other way around like you did, obviously."

"It was a joke," Jason grumbled.

Before the tension could bubble over again, Dick laughed and looked over his shoulder at your teasing expression. "You know, I appreciate the offer, but this looks like more than enough for now."

"Ok, well let me know if you change your mind. I'll let you put your stuff away while I figure out what we can get for dinner," you told him before stepping back out of the room.

Dick waited a few moments to make sure you were really gone before turning to Jason and smirking. 

"That's who you've been having such a hard time with?" he mocked.

"I swear that's the best she's been all week. When it's just me, she doesn't quit. She goes on and on and on. Whining, complaining. It's borderline harassment to be honest," he responded and crossed his arms.

"Oh come on," he laughed, "She's as hard to deal with as a kitten."

"For you," he responded, "Once she gets bored of you, she'll act the same."

"Guess we're banking on the fact that I'm a lot more entertaining than you then, huh?" he teased.

"Shut up," Jason scoffed before turning and leaving the room too.

Over the next couple hours, Dick got settled in his room and then migrated back downstairs to feel out the situation here. Already he could guess why Jason didn't like you, but if things continued the way they were, he wouldn't mind slipping into his place. A full day of pay, and all he'd have to do is flirt back and forth with you every now and again.

In the living room, you laid back in the corner of your couch. Some tv show played as background noise while you scrolled through your phone. He made an effort to talk to you, to subtly observe more of your personality. Fortunately, you were pretty open to his attempts. Once he found a subject you liked, it was like flood gates opened. You couldn't have been more eager for someone to talk with.

Poor thing, he thought. You had everything you could want, but you were still so starved for attention.

As he listened to you chatter about your favorite tv show or something that happened last summer between you and your friend, he could see the quirks in you that drove Jason up the wall.

For one, you had a tendency to pout. He didn't think you were even aware of it most of the time. While he found it kind of cute, he knew that every time your lip started to puff out, it would send Jason's blood pressure through the roof.

You also were very touchy. Over the course of the short conversation, you drifted from your end of the couch to the cushion right next to Dick. Whenever you laughed your hand landed on his forearm. If he joked around in return, you'd lightly shove his bicep.

It was all pretty juvenile, methods of flirting used most often by kids with their first crushes, but he didn't mind. You were sweet and well-intentioned. Just so desperate to feel wanted.

And admittedly, he played into your desires a bit. He knew Jason would have lambasted him if he was down here right now instead of taking a break in his own room, but Dick didn't really care. Technically, he wasn't the one on call. Though even if he was, it's not like was overtly flirting with you. He was just having some fun and keeping you entertained. A few compliments and well-placed touches. That was it.

He straightened out his behavior a little by the time Jason did return downstairs to join you both for the dinner you'd had delivered.

You stood at the end of the table, graciously distributing the containers of food while they took up a seat on either side of you. Things went pretty smoothly overall. Once you each had a plate with your dishes of choice, you sat down and began to eat.

"You have that big kitchen," Jason commented after a few bites, looking over his shoulder at the room in question, "Do you ever actually cook anything?"

You narrowed your eyes for a moment but responded in the most calm tone of voice. "Yes, I do. But not for you."

Luckily, all that came from the tense exchange was Jason rolling his eyes. Neither of you seemed interested in launching into a full argument when you could focus on the food in front of you instead. A few minutes of quiet passed, but then conversation sprouted back up without an issue.

You asked them how they got into “bodyguarding,” making sure to add that modeling had to have been on the table for Dick. As with most interactions, he responded with a charming laugh. Though this time Jason interrupted to give you the spiel about their past - they worked together under the same mentor at a security company and decided to branch off and start their own as partners.

"Yeah, but why?" you questioned when he concluded his story, "Isn't it like... scary? You have to protect people from stalkers and stuff? That sounds so nerve wracking."

"It's not if you're good at your job like us," Jason dismissed.

Dick saw the frown appear on your face, and he swooped in with an answer of his own to make you feel less discarded. 

"It can be tense sometimes on rough cases, but it's really rewarding, you know? Getting to help people and protect them from the worst parts of life gives us a purpose," he explained.

"That makes sense," you nodded before laughing a little, "I could never do what you two do. I'm wayyyy too scared of being shot."

Dick chuckled, but Jason's look didn't soften at all.

"What is it you plan on doing with your life?" Jason asked.

His tone was short, prime for judgement, but you tried to let it roll off you. You kept your shoulders back as you answered the question, like it was a part of an interview you'd prepared for.

"I'm not totally sure what I'm gonna do with my whole life, but in the spring I'm gonna start working for my dad as an aide. Like when he takes office and everything."

"So what was the point of you going through college when you're guaranteed a job like that anyways?" he asked next.

Dick shot him a look across the table. It was one thing to respond to your whining, but picking a fight was another. He could see the question pricked at a real insecurity of yours. You bristled and tried not to let the weakness show itself.

"Because," you huffed, "I'm still supposed to know things and have skills of my own. And we're not like the Kennedys or something. I can't get by on my last name forever."

"Right..." he said and redirected his focus to shoveling some more food into his mouth.

Again, Dick took it upon himself to resuscitate the mood. He chatted with you some more about school and potential areas you were interested in for your future.

As things wrapped up and the three of you cleared the table, he finished by offering to take you on that shopping trip you'd been asking about earlier tomorrow. That seemed to be all it took to fully brighten up your mood. You eagerly accepted before heading off to your room for the night.

After you'd left, the room clouded with silence for a minute. The two of them migrated over to the living room. Both him and Jason took a moment to enjoy the peace that plumed up in your absence. It dissipated when Dick decided to speak again.

"You know, part of the reason she gets snippy with you is because you're not exactly pleasant to her," he started.

"No, she doesn't like me because I won't play into her flirty bullshit like you do," Jason replied and shrugged.

"It's more than that. You dismiss almost anything she says, and you try to provoke her into lashing out at you."

"Like she doesn't do the same to me? All that whiny, pouty shit she does for you, she tried for me at first, but I hurt her feelings because I didn't act like it was cute. It's pathetic"

"Alright, but as the professional, you're supposed to keep the appearance that she doesn't bother you. I'm just saying you could try playing it cool around her," Dick suggested.

Jason glared at him. "I wasn't hired to be nice to her."

"You're not getting paid to be an asshole either."

The harsh look deepened in the other man's green eyes. "What are we getting paid to do here exactly? She's not in any actual danger."

So that was his problem.

Dick sighed, but before he could provide some form of justification, Jason was pulling up your case files on his phone. He turned the screen to Dick.

"Look. Read it. Why'd we even accept this bullshit? He basically admits there's no real threat in the request," he said.

Dick took the small device and scanned over the document with his eyes. He didn't have to read it to know why they accepted it, of course. The money was great and the connections they could gain from it would be even better for the firm. He still skimmed the tiny words staring back at him though. The request for protection that asked you be assigned a full time guard in the potential event of political retaliation. Political retaliation that both sides of this arrangement knew was not coming. Your father had won his race by a comfortable margin. No one even attempted to contest the result. All of his positions were uncontroversial as well.

It was obvious to Dick that he and Jason were simple pawns in a power struggle here. They were the expendable pieces your father could tote around and punish you with for whatever reason. Maybe you'd been too outspoken about something. Maybe you had a tendency to get too wild when you went out. Maybe you'd just outsmarted the last move in this lifelong game of chess.

Whatever it had been, this was just the next subtle method of control. He'd seen it before in rich kids like you. Shitty as it was, it was part of this business.

Handing the phone back to the other man, he answered. "You know why we took it. And I know it's frustrating, but not every case is gonna be something out of an action movie. If he wants to pay for someone to ease his mind, then that's just how it is."

"He hired a babysitter for an adult," Jason spat with disdain, "That's all this is. The only thing I'm protecting her from is maxing out daddy's credit card or taking a laced bump at some shitty party."

"There are worse jobs in the world than watching over a pretty girl, Jason," Dick said and rubbed his eyes.

"Oh bullshit. This isn't just watching a pretty girl. This is listening to her run her fucking mouth. It's putting up with her bitching and moaning in my ear 24/7 about how she doesn't want me here."

"Look. It's not that hard to figure out," he interjected, "She was spoiled rotten growing up, but that also means she probably had a lot of people trying to control her life. She's getting her first real taste of freedom being out of college and living on her own, and then her dad takes it away by hiring us. Can you blame her for being a little pissy about it?"

"So what? Poor little rich girl. She has people who want to be involved with her life and make sure she has a future," he scoffed, "If she doesn't like that, she can take it out on her dad. Why do we have to deal with the fallout?"

"I know it's not what you want to be dealing with, but you're smart enough to know that things aren't that simple," he responded, "Everything in this place - the clothes she wears, the furniture we're sitting on, I'd bet even her phone she carries around - doesn't belong to her. None of it comes from her own money. Maybe her name's on the title of this place, but you know it's not really hers. She probably plays nice and puts up with things that don't really bug her to make sure he doesn't start taking it all away or offering to give it to her in the first place."

Jason still wouldn't drop his scowl. He understood Dick was right, but you were so goddamn irritating, he didn't want to admit you deserved even the smallest degree of grace.

"You don't have to act like a boyfriend or even her best friend," Dick offered as a compromise, "All I'm saying is that if you weren't so aggressive from the jump, she might feel more inclined to listen to you."

"She's a grown woman," Jason grumbled with hushed incredulity, "I shouldn't have to handle her like a little girl or a puppy or something."

"You're right. You shouldn't have to. But it's the way it is, so adapt or drive yourself crazy. It's your choice," he said.

"I guess," he huffed before slumping back in his seat a bit.

Dick relaxed back against the couch as well. Looking at Jason now, he couldn't help but think that part of the reason the two of you butted heads at every opportunity was because you both were in the running for the most headstrong person he'd ever met.

The next day, Dick made good on his promise to take you shopping. The two of you drove to an upscale mall and spent the next few hours roaming the wide corridors. He stayed close to your side, his muscular arms covered in the bands of your shopping bags as you led him from one place to the next. You talked his ear off, but he didn't mind. It was better than lounging around the penthouse and listening to you and Jason bicker. 

And in your defense, while you had him carrying all your stuff, you took plenty of chances to offer to buy him a few things. Anything his eyes lingered on for more than two seconds had you playfully waving around your card. Each time he'd decline. He had to keep some appearance of doing his job. Jason would never let him hear the end of it if he thought he indulged in this shopping spree too.

He was still somewhat playing his part though. His eyes scanned the exits and entries (when they weren't lingering on how your lip gloss shimmered on the soft curves of your mouth). He was focused on making sure no suspicious characters tried approaching you (when he wasn't ogling the way your t-shirt stretched across the swell of your chest). 

"So only one last place, right?" he checked while you typed away on your phone.

"Yup!" you chirped.

You trotted along a few more paces before coming to a stop in front of a store entryway framed by two dark, tile pillars. The words above glowed in a light, classic font. He eyed it and then shifted his gaze to the display windows. That was when he realized this was a store for lingerie.

He let out a laugh and shook his head. "Really?" he said, raising his brows at you.

"What?" you asked, "Don't tell me you're one of those guys that gets all weird about bras and panties. What do you think I'm wearing under this?"

"I don't really think it's my place to be imagining that," he chuckled.

"Well you don't gotta imagine right now. Just stay close to me while I pick some things out," you replied with your own little smile.

Unlike Jason, this wouldn't be a hill he died on. He followed you into the store and remained quiet within a few feet of you while you checked over the stands for items you liked. You seemed pretty picky when it came to this stuff. Your face contorted into contemplative expressions, weighing if you should go with the lacy black or the baby pink.

"So... do you actually have someone to wear these for or...?" he asked while trying to seem aloof.

"I wear them because I like them," you corrected while shooting him a playful glare, "But to answer your question, not yet."

"Ah, yet," he grinned.

"Mhm. It doesn't hurt to be prepared," you said.

He huffed out a small laugh and kept in line with your footsteps. After a while, you selected a few pairs and seemed almost ready to go. You weaved through the array of perfume stands and seasonal racks. On the way to the register though, your eyes caught on a pair of silk pajamas. They were dainty, thin, and striped. Just the kind of thing that looked as though it was sewn specifically for your closet.

"Oh my gosh. Dick, can you hold this?" you said. The question was pointless as you'd already shoved the basket of panties into his arms before the words finished leaving your lips.

You pranced to the display with the sleepwear and looked it over with adoring eyes. With a wave of your hand, you summoned a nearby attendant to ask for a set you could try on.

Moments later the worker guided the two of you towards the back of the store, showing you the changing area. It was nicer than most shops. A large mirror sat on the wall that was covered in floral paper. Next to it a small door concealed the private fitting section, and in the center was a couple seats.

The woman waved you in. She glanced over each of you with a tight-lipped smile before adding that "your boyfriend" was welcome to wait inside for you.

He opened his mouth to amend her definition of him, but before he got the chance, you chimed in with a cheerful "thank you!"

His eyes zipped from the exiting staff member to you. Upon looking in your eyes, he could see your amusement dancing there. You grabbed his free hand and led him to the plush couches. Then you took off with the pajamas in your hands into the private part of the room.

"So boyfriend, huh? Is that my title now?" he called to you through the open space above the door. While you changed, he set the endless supply of bags down on the loveseat across from the one he chose to sit down on.

"It could be," you replied, "Isn't it like safer if bad guys think a girl has a boyfriend?"

He'd dealt with clients flirting with him before, but never one as flagrant as you. Only one day with you, and he could tell you'd never experienced true shame in your two decades and some spare years of life.

"Yeah, I think so," he chuckled in return. Even though your confidence humored him, he couldn't deny the part of him that was flattered. The same part that got turned on.

Suddenly, the door swung open, and you strutted out. Your luscious legs stretched out from the tiny shorts that bedizened your hips. The button-up top hung off your shoulders and framed the curves of your waist. With a few steps, you stood in front of him, as if you were a model in a fashion show organized personally for him.

"Exactly. So, how do I look, darling?" you teased, doing a little spin for him.

He reached out and grabbed your hips. His fingers dug into your skin, feeling your flesh squish beneath the pads of his digits. Your eyes connected with his as he dragged them up from your waist to your face.

"Stunning, sweetheart," he played right along.

A small giggle trickled from your lips before you turned to the side to assess your appearance in the mirror. He kept his grip on you. Both his and your eyes glided over your frame, lingering on his hands clasped around the bottoms.

"I'll have to get them then," you decided after a few moments.

His pupils shifted up, sparkling under the fluorescents on the ceiling. "I think that's a great choice. Though when you wear them later, you may want to fix the pocket," he said.

Trailing his right hand up from its post on your hip, his fingers coasted over your breast to the shirt pocket that was flipped slightly inside out. He pushed the material back into place, delving two digits beneath the silk flap. The tips teased the curve of your breast. They dragged on the skin just above your nipple through the cloth.

Fortunately for you, he pulled them out seconds later, allowing you to step back and hide the way the small bud had begun to pebble for him. The smirk on his face hinted that he still knew though.

"Ok, well I'm gonna change back. Then we can check out and go home. Maybe we could get some food on the way back or something," you said, laying out the plan as a distraction for the blooming heat you felt in your abdomen.

"Yeah, sounds good," he responded and shrugged.

He watched as you capered back behind that door. You were a tease through and through, and that couldn't have pleased him more. It's what made this all so easy. You could flirt and bat your eyelashes and speak in that seductively innocuous tone, but when you caught scent of any real arousal, you pulled back quicker than a skittish dog. 

It could make it easier for him to remain professional. A way of keeping him from crossing the line that was supposed to divide him and all clients. But it also made you so much more tempting. An elusive prey animal just begging to be caught.

The rest of that day followed the plan you had set in the dressing room.

You checked out of that last store then had Dick carry your collection of purchases to the car. The two of you picked up some food on the way home. Despite your lavish taste in just about everything else, when it came to dinner, you were a pretty cheap date.

When you made it back to the penthouse, Dick shoulders the weight of everything you bought again. The two of you don't bother asking Jason for help, knowing it would only cause more drama. Instead, he let the thin handles on the bags of clothes and jewelry and trinkets dig into his skin and nearly cut off his circulation.

Besides that though, everything went fine. Jason gave you both a look of disdain when he saw the evidence of your shopping trip, but he didn't comment. 

Maybe he was taking Dick's advice.

That seemed to be the case even as you came trotting down the stairs not too long later. You'd changed into your new silk set. The fabric didn't leave anything to the imagination in terms of your figure and that was what it did cover. Most of your legs and a sliver of your chest remained exposed to any eyes that should wander by.

You had a little smile on your face as you entered the room. Of course, you knew how you looked. You were bratty, not stupid.

Upon spotting Jason in the kitchen, you headed in that direction. He'd been standing in the corner where the counters met, eating something for a few moments. The calmness of solitude that had previously filled the space dissolved when he caught sight of you.

As much as he couldn't stand you, Jason was still human. His brows raised and his eyes stuck to your scantily-clad body, raking over your curves and smooth skin. You watched with absolute joy as he finally acknowledged you in some way other than a nuisance.

It only took him a few seconds to catch himself, but the damage had been done. You bounded over to stand on the opposite side of the kitchen from him. He kept his eyes down now, intent on trying not to gauge if you were wearing a bra under that skimpy thing by how your breasts bounced.

"So Jason... What did you do while me and Dick were out?" you asked.

"Desperately awaited your return," he grumbled sarcastically.

The question obviously meant nothing to you. He could hear it in every syllable. It served as a placeholder. A plausible reason you could linger around him to flaunt yourself.

His response brought a laugh out of you in spite of the backhanded nature of the statement. "You could've come with us. It probably would've been more fun," you smiled.

"For you maybe."

"Well yeah for me," you said. You pushed off the island and stepped a few paces closer to him. "What do you think of my clothes? They're new. Dick said he liked them."

You did a small twirl like you had in the dressing room. An attempt to lure Jason's gaze back onto you. He didn't take the bait so easily though and locked his gaze on the food he'd been snacking on.

"If you got Dick's opinion, then why do you need mine?" he shot back.

"Cause I want it," you answered.

With a deep breath, he brought his eyes back to you. He could control himself, both his temper and other kinds of impulses. Plus, there was no way he was going to let you win. You had enough smugness in your voice as it was. No way was he gonna make the problem worse by letting you feel as though you had him intimidated.

"Looks the same as the ones you normally wear," he shrugged.

"Yeah, but I didn't ask that. I just wanna know if you like them."

"Why? Are you gonna throw a fit or something if I say no? Call daddy and have him hire someone with better taste to babysit you?" he mocked.

That put a scowl on your face, which made him smile. The two of you worked like a seesaw of emotions, one extreme on each side, animosity shifting so rapidly the bar could never rest at a balanced middle.

"No," you scoffed with a glare, "I was just trying to be nice to you-"

"Oh really? It felt more like you were fishing for compliments to me," he said, "You bought the clothes, so obviously you like them. Why do you need me validating your choice?"

God, this felt so much better than getting worked up over you. Watching your face morph into increasingly petulant expressions gave Jason more joy than imagining the day a month from now when this job would finally be done.

"Whatever," you huffed and rolled your eyes before retreating to the living room to be with Dick.

That was fine with him. He didn't cause a blow up or have to deal with Dick's lecture while simultaneously getting you out of his immediate vicinity. Though, that was probably for the best for reasons other than his anger too. 

He would never ever admit it out loud, especially not after the point he'd made about it last night, but seeing you in that tiny get up, all desperate for his approval... it had him craving some alone time to quell the heat he felt beginning to simmer within.

He cleaned up his plate that was now empty and then ran a hand through his hair. His eyes shut for a moment, and he let out a sigh. After a few moments, he decided he didn't need to shove down the feelings. He'd been pent up enough over the last week. Nonstop hours of you trying to get under his skin and make him snap. It left him yearning for some outlet, for some relief. Maybe that was why he was so pissed off all the time.

Right now, Dick was with you. The chances of you wandering up to his room to bother him were slim. He could sneak off for a while, spend some quality time with his right hand and chill the fuck out.

So that's what he did. He headed off upstairs and shut the door to his room.

Now you sat beside Dick on the couch as an old movie played on the tv. You were so close to him that your bare thighs rested against the grey cotton of his sweatpants.

It wasn't that late, but only a third of the way into the movie you felt yourself sinking into the cushions behind you, tiredness overtaking your body. Your eyes grew droopy and glazed as you tried watching the action playing out in front of you.

A few minutes later, you started to accept this might be a pointless effort. In your defense, shopping was a tiring activity! Malls were big and required lots of steps to get through. When you combined that with doing all the spending math in your head, talking to Dick, and trying things on, it made sense that you were beat.

You let your head slump over and hit his shoulder. Your temple thudded against the curve of it as a yawn made its way out of you. You brought your legs closer to your body and wrapped one of your hands around his bicep as well. If you were gonna go for an inch, why not take the whole mile?

His head swiveled in your direction when he felt the gentle contact. He didn't protest like you knew Jason would have though. Rather, he let you grip onto his muscular arm and rest against his broad frame before bringing his free hand over to smooth down the nape of your neck.

"Are we still playing boyfriend and girlfriend?" he asked.

Your eyes fluttered open as you tilted your face up to look at him. After a moment's thought, you bobbed your head in a lazy nod.

Upon seeing your confirmation, a lascivious smile spread across his lips. He leaned back further into the couch himself and stretched his legs out onto the extended part of the sectional. Once he was adjusted, he pulled his arm free of your grasp. You showed slight dismay at first, displeased with the loss of support and heat. Though it quickly evaporated as he draped it over your shoulders and pulled you into his chest.

"Well if I was your boyfriend," he said, drawing out the syllables pointedly, "I think we'd be sitting like this."

Even in your tired condition, you felt a bit flustered. You wouldn't show that though. It would take more to get you to willingly show how he affected you. You snuggle into his sculpted side and nestle your face against his chest. Below his skin, you hear the faint but steady beat of his heart.

"You're probably right," you mumbled against the fabric of his t-shirt, "It's comfier like this."

"Mhm. Safer too," he teased.

You nodded, not needing words this time around. One of your arms encircled his waist to keep you snug against him while you continued to watch the movie. 

It was honestly a miracle in your own eyes that you hadn't passed out yet in the few seconds you'd been sitting like this. He was so warm, and he smelled so good, like fresh laundry. And now his hand had started rubbing up and down your back. The steady rhythm of his palm and the perfect amount of pressure seemed like it would be lulling you into unconsciousness in minutes.

But then he spoke again.

"And if I was your boyfriend, we'd be doing a lot more than just watching this movie," he whispered.

The words hit your ears in soft puffs of air, sending chills down your spine. You bit your lip and willed your eyes to open wider before looking at him again.

"What else would we be doing?" you asked.

"What do you think? With you sitting here, all cute in your little outfit..." he began, lowering his mouth to your neck. A soft gasp left you as he began laying kisses up your throat to your ear. His teeth scraped over your earlobe before his tongue grazed the skin behind it. "I think I'd have a pretty hard time keeping my hands to myself," he finished lowly.

The skin of your shoulders prickled beneath the satiny material of your top and continued to do so down your arms and legs. You weren't completely inexperienced, but you'd never had such intense attention focused on you. You'd never felt like the center of someone's entire world like you did right now.

Your hand lands on his thigh, gripping the meat of it with your fingers. You turn your head into a brief kiss before pulling back an inch.

"If you were my boyfriend, you wouldn't have to keep your hands to yourself," you murmured.

And that was the last thing he needed to hear.

He dove in and kissed you like it was the millionth time. His lips moved against your own sensually before his tongue found its way into your mouth. A tender moan slipped out of you in response. He played the part of your boyfriend better than any actual candidate for the role before him.

Your palm migrated up from his thigh to his lap. With a few delicate swipes, you coaxed a bulge into rising against the fabric of his pants. Your hand then fled the area and trailed up his abs onto his chest. Every inch of him felt as though it had been crafted by divine beings. A gift for anyone who should have the pleasure of experiencing him.

He tugged you closer, guiding you so close that you were all but in his lap. His right hand groped the dough of your ass while his left crept onto your breast and gave it the squeeze he had wanted to earlier in the changing room.

You squeaked like a chew toy in response, which drew a laugh out of him. He teased the mound again by kneading it a few more times. His fingers dragged across the soft curves before zeroing in on your nipple, tweaking and pulling at the sensitive little nub. That brought some whines out of you.

"My little girlfriend's so responsive," he whispered. 

He knew he was acting like an idiot right now. He wasn't just crossing every client-contractor line in the book, he was practically leaping over them with joy. If Jason came down here and saw this opening to a porno playing out on the couch, he would never hear the end of it. But he just couldn't stop now. The way you arched into his touch was fucking intoxicating. You had him hooked, and he hadn't gotten farther than feeling up your tits.

And then you whimpered and nipped at his bottom lip. It wasn't like you could really defend yourself from his words. Every touch had you keening for more.

He hummed at the mini bite before pulling you closer and deepening the kiss. The arm wrapped around your back continued to support you while the set of fingers that had been playing with your chest fell towards the junction of your thighs. You seemed a little nervous at the start of the descent, but by the time his hand made it there, your legs spread open for him with no hesitation.

Both of your harsh breaths drowned out the sounds from the movie that had been long forgotten by now. And then your soft, sweet moans joined them.

He started out with a few loving caresses over your center. A few pets to get you warmed up. It was all you needed to let out those cute little noises. You rolled your hips at his hand, already signaling your need for more.

Without a second thought, he obliged you. His hand slid beneath your waistband and into your panties before his fingers slotted between your lips, finding your clit with expertise. They danced over your bundle of nerves and pressed down on it. More whines trickled from your mouth. He could only hope his lips on yours did a sufficient job of muffling them.

"That's it, sweetheart," he crooned, "You're so cute. Not worried about anything but feeling good."

You bucked your hips without a care in the world now, just like he said. They rocked up into the friction his digits were providing. Wet sloshing sounds emanated from where his hand moved beneath your shorts.

After a little while longer of just touching, he worked a finger inside of you. Then another. He pumped them in and out, relishing each precious mewl that erupted from you in turn. His digits curled. Each stroke inside you brushed a tender spot that made your thighs quiver and jerk.

"Fuck," you inhaled sharply before reaching forward to try palming at him, a haphazard attempt at returning the favor.

His free hand brushed yours away though. Those cerulean eyes glimmered with cockiness.

"I can take care of myself, baby. I'm being paid to service you, remember?" he purred.

Your eyes rolled back, and your head followed in that direction, hitting the backing of the couch. You weakly nodded before allowing the pleasurable sensations to cloud your head. He just kept thrusting his two fingers in and out while his palm ground against your clit.

You vaguely felt him start to grind his hips against the side of your leg. He used the pressure as stimulation, giving himself some muted relief while tending to you.

In the throes of bliss, you hadn't realized how close you were until the edge was right there. You whined and squirmed, trying to alert him that you were a few skillful pumps away from unraveling.

"Dick... gonna..." you whimpered.

"Yeah, I can tell. You're getting nice and tight," he murmured.

You nodded. Your lip started to jut out, those pouty habits making themselves known in the heat of the moment. He grinned before kissing it away.

"Let go, baby. Soak through your new shorts. Get 'em all messy for me," he cooed.

Your walls clenched around his fingers as your toes curled. It was impossible to resist the urge to release when he was guiding you to it like that. Your whole body tensed up and then relaxed over and over, the highs of pleasure washing over you in waves.

He watched every little move you make, drank it all up like a dehydrated man in the middle of the Sahara.

"You look so pretty while you cum," he praised. You heard him say the words; though, they sounded distant amidst the haze of bliss surrounding you.

When you finished, he could tell you were exhausted. Your eyelids drooped as if keeping them open was an impossible task. You laid there limp beside him, just about ready to melt into the couch.

He chuckled and slipped his hand from your shorts. Bringing his fingers to his lips, he sucked them clean and then ducked in for one last kiss. You squeaked in surprise but didn't pull away. He let you taste yourself for a moment before retreating.

Even though he hadn't cum himself, he figured it would be fine for tonight. There were four weeks left of this job after all. He'd have more time with you. Tonight he could deal with finishing himself off in his room after taking you to bed.

He shut the tv off and then scooped you up. Your body draped between his two arms. You didn't complain or protest; rather, just leaned your head into his shoulder and accepted the aid. He walked with you up the stairs, down the walkway to your bedroom. The last door on the path.

Nudging the door open with his foot, he crossed the threshold into your space. It appeared like the rest of the apartment, just more concentrated. A more pure embodiment of you. All the other parts of this place he'd seen had traces of your personality throughout, but each and every part of this room represented a piece of you.

He didn't spend any time snooping around or getting a better look. Like the perfect gentleman, he placed you in bed, draped a blanket over your body, and made sure you were situated. Then he retraced his steps back out into the hall. He headed down to the guest room and slipped inside, planning on taking care of himself and then passing out for the night.

The next morning, Dick woke to a thudding on the wall behind his headboard. Knock. Knock. Knock. The noises pounded against the barrier in an even-rhythm, every second or so. He wasn't sure how long they'd been going on by the time he reached full consciousness. They'd invaded the last part of his dream, so he assumed maybe a few minutes.

Even though the sounds should probably concern him, all he felt was annoyance. The wall behind his bed was the one connected to Jason's. He figured the noises were a result of him working out or moving some things around. Maybe you two had gotten into another argument and he was packing his things in anger.

Dick dragged himself out of bed and stretched. He'd slept longer than usual last night. A lazy smile rose to his face as details came flooding back to him. How you'd felt around his fingers and whined for him to keep pleasuring you.

Once he'd figured out what the noise was about, maybe he'd head over to your room, see if you were up yet. It'd been less than twelve hours, but he was already craving another taste of you.

He stepped out into the hallway, walking in the direction of the room the noise was coming from. As he got closer, he could hear some grunting too. It sounded pretty intense. Either Jason was working out really hard or you'd really pissed him off. Maybe a combination of both.

"Hey, Jason. Some of us are trying to sleep. You don't need to compete with the construction crews around the rest of the city with all this-" he started to call out, but the words died in his throat as soon as he saw the source of the banging.

He felt like a flash grenade had gone off in the room he was looking into. The source of the loud sounds was no longer a mystery. It was coming from Jason's headboard slamming into the wall. The headboard was doing that because the man in question was kneeling on the bed with you pinned down in front of him, fucking you like he was an animal in heat. Dick saw your body jerk in panic as soon as you heard the sound of his voice close in.

"Jesus, man!" Dick said and spun away from the explicit sight before him. His mind reeled and tried to grasp onto what he just witnessed.

As he was trying to come to terms with the fact that he just saw Jason balls deep inside you, he also realized that the lewd noises weren't stopping. He slowly turned back to get another glance - just a curious one, he told himself.

His eyes found the two of you again. Jason kneeled on the edge of the bed. One of his large hands gripped your hip while the other held your face down against the pillows. Now that Dick was really listening, he could hear your little muffled whines and squeaks.

Jason's body glowed, flush from arousal and shimmering with a sheen of sweat. Your limbs were folded up like pieces of a portable chair. Dick tried not to focus on the flicker of heat in his gut, and instead, think about how even with another set of eyes, neither of you had stopped going at it. In your defense, he didn't think the decision was up to you. Jason had manhandled you into a position that gave him all the leverage.

Finally after another second or two, the other man looked his way.

"You need something, Dick?" Jason grunted as though he'd been interrupted while reading a book rather than pounding you into the mattress.

He blinked at him. "What are you doing?"

"Do you really have to ask that? You're not a prude, and you're far from innocent," he mocked. His voice was breathless as though he found some deep satisfaction in this act. Dick believed that. He'd felt how soft and tight your cunt was last night, warm enough to melt even someone as tough as Jason down a bit.

"I'm not a prude, but you could at least shut the door," he responded. The absurdity of this situation then began to dawn on him. He stepped closer to the bed. "Really, Jason. What the fuck are you doing? She's a client," he finally said.

That brought a laugh out of the younger man. "Client, huh? That's not what I was hearing last night when you had her out on the couch."

Dick tensed in the face of the accusation. Shit. He'd thought the two of you had been quiet enough. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. 

"That's different..." he defended weakly.

In reality, he of course knew that it wasn't. Him fooling around with you last night was, on a technical level, no different from what Jason was doing now. Either one if found out by your father, their employer, would get them fired and possibly slapped with a lawsuit.

But he did feel it was honestly different on some level. He'd just been playing with you. Going along with your flirting. Having some fun. Jason was fucking you. Every thrust was like an act of revenge for all the pouting and whining and huffy glares. He bullied his cock deep into your cunt with every swing of his hips. Your body jolted from his momentum, your fingers curled around the edges of the pillow. It was intense and raw.

"It is not," Jason denied, "Plus, I thought you'd be happy. We're not arguing anymore. You wanted me to act cool with her? Well she thinks this is pretty fuckin' cool. Don't you, princess?"

Before you could mumble something against the satiny linens below you, he looped an arm around your neck and pulled you up against him. You squealed at the sharp angle this new position put you at. Your eyes rolled back, and the only sounds that came from your lips immediately were hazy babbles.

You eventually collected yourself enough to nod. He laughed in your ear, slotting his face right next to yours. You could feel his breaths against your cheek, his sweat smearing on your skin.

"Use your words, sweetheart," he purred.

A shudder coursed its way through you. Your dazed eyes opened just enough to connect with Dick's bright blue ones. You didn't know what to say, so you let out the easiest thing you could think of.

"F-feels good..."

Dick nearly winced at the fucked-out sound of your voice. It was sultry and slurred. If you weren't so disgustingly rich, he was sure you'd make a killing doing this stuff on camera.

His eyes scraped over the shape Jason had you propped in now. Your body was arched like a bow, tits bouncing with each of his thrusts. He had your arms hooked over one of his behind your back while his other was wrapped around your throat. Your chin rested on the thick muscles there. Saliva spilled from your mouth while the beginnings of tears pricked at your eyes.

Everything about it was turning him on, but he tried to disguise that fact. He shifted where he stood in an attempt to readjust himself and not let his cock fill out. But then his eyes caught on the slight bulge in your stomach. The faint outline that protruded in rhythm with the man behind you thrusting.

He almost came on the spot. A groan worked its way up his throat, and he ran a hand over his face into his messy hair.

Jason huffed out a laugh at the noise. "You should've seen her. She came in here trying to pick a fight. Probably a warm up before she scampered off to your room to get you to relieve her frustration."

"Nuh uh," you whimpered pitifully.

In response, he released your arms and shoved you down onto the mattress again. You whined at the force he put into slamming your face against the blankets. His hips rutted into you even harder too, clearing any further words of denial from your mind.

"I wasn't asking," he chided. He gave your ass a firm slap before holding onto your hips. 

You mewled and clawed at the soft bedding.

"Maybe you are being honest though. Maybe you didn't plan on getting Dick to help you out. You probably knew he couldn't give it to you like you needed," he said. His green eyes flitted up to the man standing beside the bed, letting him know it was an open challenge.

Dick knew he shouldn't take the bait. This was weird enough as it was, standing there and watching the two of you fuck. But wouldn't it be weirder not getting involved? If he just left, he'd still be half-hard. He'd probably skulk off back to his room to jerk off, and that would be more pathetic than whatever he was about to agree to.

"Sure, Jason. If that's what you have to tell yourself," he mocked, "She knows how good I can make her feel. She just knows that you're easier."

Jason’s usual scowl appears on his face. "You cracked first. Gave into her and acted all sweet," he grumbled.

"Yeah, but look at you. She didn't have to work at all to get you to fuck her," he taunted, "I'm sure she'll be so tempted to not act out anymore when this is how you deal with it."

He closed the gap between himself and the bed, reaching for your face. He cupped your jaw and tilted your head upwards to face him. Swiping his thumb over your bottom lip, he smirked at the cute, pouty look on your face.

Jason growled and tugged you back. His hips clapped against your ass. You whined in a mixture of pleasure and pain, screwing your eyes shut. He leaned over your body like a dog guarding its favorite toy while continuing to pound into you.

"You know I'm right," Dick said, "You're so rough because you know you have to compensate."

Now Jason was actually getting a little pissy. He was the one who made this competitive, but it didn't take much to trigger his temper.

He let go of your body and pulled out. "You think you can do better? Go ahead then," he said, gesturing to your twitching form. You whined at the emptiness you now felt, but it did nothing to change his mind. He gave you a quick swat between your legs, ripping a cry from you. 

"No whining, little brat," he said, "Not when you're getting so much attention. More than you deserve."

Dick watched with interest before connecting his stare with the other man's.

"You just want me to what? Strip down and fuck her?" he asked.

"Why not? Don't act like you don't want to. I can see the tent in your pants," he responded.

Looking down, he knew he was right. The front of his sweats had puffed out with his desire. He didn't bother feeling embarrassed about it right now though. Jason was shameless as could be, so why should he try to keep up an appearance of modesty?

He shrugged and began peeling off his t-shirt before pushing his pants and boxers to the floor. Both pieces crumple up next to his feet as his cock comes into view. He gives it a few lazy strokes while reaching for you.

You glanced up at him, your pupils dilating upon seeing his length. It was slightly skinnier than Jason's but just as long. Your mouth watered for a taste. He chuckled, your admiration stroking his ego.

"Come here, baby," he cooed, much more gentle than Jason.

The sound of his voice revived you from your fucked out state, and you were happy to be guided into his arms. He sat against the headboard and took you onto his lap. Pressing a few kisses to your lips, he ran his fingers down your jawline.

He knew he wouldn't have to do anything to get you ready. You were already dripping onto his thighs from the mess Jason left between your legs. He shifted you around by your waist, laying you back against his chest. The both of you faced Jason who sat at the end of the bed.

"You think you can ride for me?" he murmured against the shell of your ear.

Your legs were wobbly and your mind still felt a little cloudy from the euphoria Jason pumped into your veins, but you nodded anyways, not wanting to disappoint Dick.

He rewarded you with a grin and pecked your temple. "Such a good girl. Gonna show him how sweet you can be when you're treated right, huh?"

Again, you nodded, but he also caught Jason rolling his eyes.

You rose onto your feet and positioned yourself above his lap. He helped you out a little, lining his shaft up at your entrance and sliding it through your slick.

Slowly, you began sinking down on him. He couldn't help the choked moan that slipped out of his mouth. "Fuck, you're tight," he rasped.

You didn't let up, lowering yourself all the way down in one go. Your ass rested against his pelvis, and he gave you a few moments to adjust. Hell, he needed them too to catch his breath. He couldn't cum too quickly right now. Not with Jason watching. He'd never hear the end of it.

But eventually you do start to bounce. His hands hold onto the little divots in your side to help you keep balance. Your warm slippery walls squeeze around him with each of your movements.

More whiny sounds seep from your lips. They were higher-pitched than last night. Less drawn out and delirious. Each time you took him all the way, your hips jerked. He reached around, swirling his fingers over your clit.

"So sensitive," he teased.

You whimpered and continued to bounce yourself in haphazard bursts. Your pussy gushed for him, your juices dripping down to his balls. By the time you finished, there would be a wet patch for sure.

He tilted his head back against the headboard, just letting himself feel for a moment. Meanwhile, your eyes meet Jason's. He had a fist wrapped around his cock. He kept his strokes slow, as if trying to hide the fact that he was doing it at all.

"Feeling good?" he asked, but you know it was intended to mock you, "You like sweet and gentle? Better than how I do it?"

Before you could answer, Dick slammed you down on his cock. Your eyes fluttered, and you loosened up, allowing him to take over in lifting you up and down on his shaft.

"If you're asking, that means you know you're losing," Dick chimed in a sing-song voice.

That just spiked Jason’s blood pressure. He stood up. "My turn again," he demanded.

Dick openly laughed in his face while continuing to pump you like a fleshlight. "No," he said.

"Yeah. You've had your turn, now it's mine. Give her back," he said. He was getting more agitated because he realized how petulant he sounded.

It only brought more laughter from Dick. "Give her back? What is she? Your favorite doll or something?" he taunted, "It doesn't really seem like she wants to go back to you. I think I'll keep her here till she finishes."

"You're the one who interrupted."

"You're the one who practically invited me to."

"I don't care. You had enough time, now it's my turn to show you. I'll get her at fucking gunpoint if I have to."

Both of them knew he was just blowing off steam. When Jason got mad, he would say things like that without thinking twice. But you'd never heard his voice so gruff, dripping with the potential for violence. When he got pissed at you, he was annoyed and agitated. Frustrated more than anything else. This was something else, and it turned you on.

You clenched around Dick's cock and let out a shaky whine. They simultaneously dropped their bickering and looked at you. Dick slowed the pace as he eyed you, but Jason's lips curved upward. 

"Oh you like that idea?" he chuckled, "Thought you were afraid of guns, princess?"

"I- I am," you said, trying to backtrack.

His dark locks swayed from side to side as he shook his head. The moment he headed towards the nightstand Dick knew what he was doing.

"Jason-" he started, but his gun was already in his hand. The dark pistol pointed towards you.

"Come here," he said.

Your eyes widened, thighs quivering as Dick stopped moving you and let you slide off of him. He watched as his cock slid out of you, still coated in your arousal. You crawled forward towards the man pointing the gun at you.

He grabbed a fistful of your hair when you were close enough and dragged you the rest of the way. His cock kicked at the yelp you let out.

"That's a good girl. You know to come when you're called," he praised.

You whimpered in response, looking up at him with wide, puppy-eyes. He didn't soften in the slightest though. Scooping you from behind, he dumped you onto your back.

"Spread your legs for me nice and wide," he directed. You clasped your own legs behind the knee and made sure there was ample room for him to get at your center.

The gun remained aimed at you. It kept your heart pumping so hard you could hear it in your ears. A sick combination of fear and lust ran through your limbs. Jason didn't mind the shakiness though. With his free hand, he guided his thick cock back to your entrance and slid right in.

"Fuck, you take it so well for such a prissy little thing," he growled.

He didn't give you the adjustment period like Dick had. Instead, he pushed all the way in and then dragged his hips back before slamming in again. You mewled at the stretch. The sweet burn of him splitting your cunt open.

"Jason..." Dick said again in the tone of a parent about to count to three.

Jason didn't drop it though. He leaned forward, pressing the cool metal barrel against your shoulder and folding you in half under his bulky frame. He was so deep inside you that you couldn't really say he was thrusting anymore. Just grinding his hips. Deep, even rolls. Those tears that had been teasing you before leaked out freely now. You hiccuped out a broken sob as he continued fucking you within an inch of your life.

"She's fine," he grunted, trying to suppress a moan of his own, "Fuck... you know I'm careful."

It was true. Dick didn't actually believe Jason would shoot you, but still, this felt like the exact opposite of what they were supposed to be doing. This was probably the most danger you'd been in over the course of your entire life. It was definitely the first time you'd had a gun aimed at you.

Heat sweltered between you and Jason, making it almost impossible to breathe. Your head lolled back in search of some relief. Some semblance of breathing room. But he was just all around you. Every part of your body felt under his control.

Your vision went spotty for a moment, but when you came back, you saw Dick's face above yours. Jason had leaned back a bit, allowing you to cool down. His hips maintained a steady rhythm though. 

The older man stared down at you, stroking your cheek gently. He swiped your tears away with your thumb. His palms kept your head cradled as if you were the most precious, fragile thing in the world. It just made you cry more.

"You're so pretty crying like that," he crooned. His knuckles swept over your heated skin. "Such a sweet girl. Not used to getting it so rough."

"She'll be used to it by the time the month is over," Jason said. He put the gun aside now, using both hands to hold onto you.

Dick rolled his eyes and continued showering you with soft words and tender touches. It was like each half of your body was in a separate world.

You could tell Jason was close by the way his thrusts were becoming more sporadic. His breaths puffed out in harsh pants while his fingers gripped you tight enough to bruise. Luckily, you were getting there too.

The only one left behind was Dick, but he wasn't worried. He had the patience for you.

Jason thumbed your clit, dragging you the rest of the way to the finish line. You came with a scream so loud that both of them were thankful the penthouse suite meant no neighbors to hear you. Your body quivered and convulsed. You sobbed out cries for both of them. Your hands flew to Dick's wrist to hold onto something.

Jason kept pumping into you for a few moments more, but you were tight as a vise. He knew he was about to cum, and he knew he should pull out. But as he was going to, you locked your shaky legs around him and shook your head.

"I'm-" you tried before cutting yourself off with a whimper, "I'm on the pill."

In that moment, it was like he heard an angel speak to him. He slammed into you as hard as he could and collapsed onto your body. His larger chest crushed you against the bed, his face nuzzling into your neck as he spilled himself inside you. You swore you heard him whine, but it was hard to tell with everything going on.

He fucked his cum into you, not pulling out until he was completely satisfied. Once he was and that dreamy bliss of post-release had settled over him, he reluctantly rolled off and landed next to you flat on his back. His chest rose and fell with deep, slow breaths.

But you weren't done yet. Dick slid around to where he had been and pushed his cock into your hole that was still leaking Jason's cum.

"The best goes on last," he teased with a lazy smirk.

He sighed, his long lashes dusting his cheeks at the sensation. His grip was much softer. He took his thrusts slower too, knowing your poor pussy was aching from how rough Jason got.

You whimpered and twitched at the slight overstimulation.

"Shhh, doing good for me," he cooed, "Pussy's so warm and soft. She wants me. I’ll make her feel all better."

The sounds coming from where your bodies connected were absolutely obscene. And even though Dick wasn't going as fast, he was getting just as deep. His tip brushed your sweet spot over and over. Your toes curled and your back arched. This time it was Jason you held onto. You gripped his hand tight as you could, and he let you. He didn't baby you like Dick did, but he allowed you the comfort of his large, warm palm around yours.

You were totally gone by the time Dick was ready to let go. He angled his hips to guide you into another release. Your walls fluttered around his length. His head tilted back and he let out a groan, feeling his own peak bubble up inside him.

He came inside too, pumping your cunt full of another load. Like Jason, he fucked it all in. He stayed snug in the tight grip of your pussy for a moment before pulling out. Sticky, white cum gushed out, dripping down onto the bed.

Dick landed on the opposite side of you from Jason. He leaned in and planted a soft kiss on your cheek.

The three of you laid in silence for a little while. For you, it was out of pure exhaustion. You wondered if it was that for them too, or if they were processing what they'd done. The lines they'd crossed and the secret they'd now have to keep.

But you didn't get the chance to dwell on it for too long because soon enough, Dick guided you off the bed.

"Let's get you cleaned up," he said.

With a hand on the small of your back, he led you to your bedroom and into the en-suite bathroom. You assumed Jason stayed behind to take care of the bedding, but you didn't ask.

Dick drew you a bath and helped you in. He did like he said he would, cleaned you up. Every move he made he did so with all the care in the world. Gentle hands wiping the dried drool and tear streaks from your face.

When you were done, he helped you out and dried you off. He let you go about the other parts of putting yourself back together on your own, taking a few moments to tend to himself. 

You didn't know how the rest of the day would look. If things would be awkward now or if they just wouldn't acknowledge what happened. You waited on your bed for Dick, dressed in a pair of fresh clothes and your skin smooth after being lathered in lotion.

He came in after you a few minutes later. Immediately, your fears of things being weird were extinguished by the smile he gave you. The same charming one he'd had since a few days ago. He climbed on the bed with you and laid back against your pillows. You followed in suit, leaning your head against his shoulder.

You were content like this, just relaxing with him. In the back of his mind, he knew this was the quietest you'd been since he arrived.

Moments later the door opened and Jason came in. He crossed the room without a word. You opened your mouth to ask what he was doing, but he basically answered the question when he reached the other side of your bed.

He laid down next to you like Dick had on your other side. You eyed him suspiciously. Never would you have imagined he'd willingly spend time with you. He caught the look though and gave it his usual frown.

"What?" he scoffed, "I was the one actually hired to watch you. I gotta make sure you're not getting into trouble."

Unlike before, his speaking didn't provoke you to whine or insult. Instead, you smiled and wrapped your arm around his bicep.

"It's ok. I won't make you admit that you wanna cuddle too," you grinned.

He shook his head in denial. "I'm just doing my job," he asserted, "Plus, I think I won the contest, so it only makes sense that I'm the one who stays with you."

"Hey, we never decided on a winner," Dick cut in.

"I mean, we didn't have to because it was pretty obvious."

"Well we got a whole month, so if you're so confident, we can always have a rematch later," Dick challenged.

"Um, you guys didn't even ask for my vote on who I think won," you interrupted with a pout.

They both turn their eyes to you. For once, Jason didn’t look at you with total disdain. In this moment, you could see some fondness under the top coat of annoyance.

"There's that attitude. I guess it was naive of me to hope we fucked it out of you," he said.

Dick chuckled at that. "It'll take a couple more rounds before that's even a real possibility."

You glared at the both of them, but like Jason, your eyes didn't hold real anger or frustration now. Only the hope that they'd try to put you back in line again.

[torasplanet]

omg thank you💕

DC Fic Recommendations

Just some of my favorite DC fics. it's mostly BatFam cause that's my current hyper fixation. I may have a slight thing for Jason Todd 😅. Reader is gender neutral unless noted otherwise.

Other Fic Recs

Key:

Fluff ☁️

Angst ⛈️

Mature 🌹

Smut 🔥

Comfort 🫂

Reverse Comfort 🔁🫂

Yandere 🩸

Series 🔗

Dynamics:

Strangers 💛

Best Friends 🩵

Strangers to Lovers 🧡

Friends to Lovers 💜

Exs to Lovers ❤️‍🩹

Established Relationship ❤️

Lovers to Exs 💔

Platonic

Damien Wayne-Al'Ghul/Robin

☁️ Being Damien's Best Friend (Child!Reader) by @dahliakbs

☁️🫂 Dad's GF by @torasplanet ♀️

Multi

☁️ Being Bruce Wayne's Twin (Batfam) by @nosyrobin ♂️

⛈️🫂🔗 Punchline AU (Joker's Daughter and the Batfam) by @witherby ♀️

☁️🔗 Littlest Wayne AU (Adopted by the Batfam) by @witherby

☁️🫂🩸 Family Knows Best (Batfam) by @one-green-frog ♂️

⛈️🩸 Neglected Reader Turned Mafia Boss (Batfam) by @ladyrosemone

☁️🫂 Found Family (Batfam & Kents) by @lunasfics ♀️

🩸🔗 Little Thief (Batfam) by @green-butterfly-writes

Romantic

Bruce Wayne/Batman

🌹 Count on Mom by @alisonwritesimagines ❤️♀️

Dick Grayson/Nightwing

🔥 "Will You Mind It?" by @hhoneylemon ❤️♂️

Jason Todd/Red Hood

☁️ Bluetooth by @cipheress-to-k-pop 🧡♀️

☁️ Meet the Family by @mostly-imagines ❤️♀️

☁️ Meeting His Siblings by @gilverrwrites ❤️

Multi

🌹🩸🔗 A Day in Life (Justice League x Reader) by @couldeatthatgirlforlunch 🧡

[torasplanet]

omg this was so good

Monsters :Mikey Sano x Reader x Izana Kurokawa

Chapter 4: The Calm

[series summary]: your grievous sin was Emma standing up for you to her brothers. and now you’re going to pay the heavy price for destroying their perfect family dynamic.

[chapter summary]: Everything comes crashing down right before your very eyes when something horrible from your past resurfaces

[cw]: DARK CONTENT, NSFW, angst PTSD, bullying, victim blaming, attempted rape mention(s), implied sexual intercourse (character x character), choking, mommy issues, implied masturbation (m.), public sex, violence, misogyny, betrayal, parental abuse amd neglect, religious trauma, implied past homophobia, dark impulse Mikey, homelessness

[r-18+] not suitable for 17 and under

[wc]: 12.2k

[A/N]: There is a new taglist linked here, so please reapply or if you haven't applied before, it is there. I accidentally ruined my old one.

[masterlist] [chapter 3] [chapter 5] [taglist] [a03 + bonus side story] [wattpad]

  NO ONE ever tells you about the guilt of keeping secrets from your one and only true friend.

It eats you alive daily, soaking into your very core as you look at Emma from the corner of your eyes, jotting down anything the lecturer says eagerly. Her blond hair is in a neat ponytail, exposing the beautiful slope of her neck from behind you, her back curved from leaning down to take notes.

How do you tell your friend that her brother had attempted to force himself on you?

‘I should have never let things get this far with Mikey.’ you lament internally. ‘Why didn’t I just reject the offer in the first place? The worst that could have happened was Emma being mad at me. Then that night would never have happened. What am I supposed to do? What if she finds out from someone else?’

Even if you tell her anything, she might never believe you; women are never believed for these kinds of things, if life taught you anything, but they sure were blamed all the time. And if she does, who knows what Manjiro Sano would do to you as revenge.

It’s not like you have anyone else to turn to, your parents consider you dead to them and everyone in this school hates you for existing.

For the first time in your life, you don’t know a way out of this situation.

“... and that is the end of today’s lesson. You can all leave now.”

You’re snapped out of your self-inflicted guilt trip at the sound of professor Hanabi concluding his lesson. Panic overtook you as you looked down into your notes only to see that it was half written when you were paying attention from the beginning to mid-way in the lesson, and the rest of your paper was empty.

Just your luck.

“You spaced out, again? Are you still thinking about your parents?”

Your hand flies to slam your book shut at the sound of Emma’s voice from beside you, Hinata following not too behind, embarrassed at the two of them seeing your half-baked notes. She only chuckled in response at your hasty action, shaking her head in disapproval before putting her hand on your shoulder. “There’s no need to do that, come on. I’ll lend you my note after class.” 

You slid your hands over your face at being caught red-handed; As usual, Emma is being so kind to you even as you continue to lie and keep secrets from her. She’s tried everything to get you to open up as to why you keep spacing out, but you deflect and change the subject.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” you sighed out, deflating visibly with your hands still covering your face. “Some days are good, and some days are just…”

Another comforting hand rests on your shoulder, this time belonging to Hina. “You’ve got to stop getting all up in your head, (Name).” Her voice is gentle, trying to ease you off whatever tension looming over your head. “Come on, let’s get you boba in the school’s cafeteria.”

You nodded weakly and packed your books into your worn out school bag, before hurriedly following them behind along with the last of your classmates.

The walk to the cafeteria is a short distance, as your departmental building was very close to it and soon, the three of you had gotten your boba drinks, now in search of a place to sit. “Senju and Yuzuha are around here,” Emma said, scanning around to try and find them in a throng of people. A lump in your throat forms on hearing Yuzuha’s name; you haven’t spoken to her in a long time, since that incident. You wonder if she still hates you for what your family did to her.

“Oh there they are.”

The pink haired girl, Senju, eagerly waved at you three from her table, with Yuzuha glued to her phone, not looking up from it and Emma waved back, before grabbing your arm and gently pulling you with her towards the table, Hinata following not too far behind.

Senju Akashi was the president of the sorority group Brahman and also, Emma’s childhood friend. From Emma’s point of view, Senju was closer to Mikey than her, always opting to play with the boys, Keisuke and Sanzu, rather than her. The pinkette never left the tomboyish phase in her teenage years and hasn’t left it since then, only now she’s more willing to let Emma fix acrylic nails for her and she puts on makeup, probably to cement her status.

Yuzuha was someone you knew as a child. She was just a few years older than you in school, not to mention very popular with the student body as she was a mixture of beauty, brains and brawn and the only person that used to care about you.

Until your family ruined it all.

As you sat down on the chair, facing Yuzuha and Senju, with Emma and Hinata by your side, you realized how small and insignificant you were compared to them. Emma was the wealthy IT girl and her brothers practically have a tight leash on the school, Hinata ran the school’s newspaper and was on the dean's list regularly, Senju was the leader of the most popular sorority and Yuzuha was the financial advisor and also always on the dean's list, as well as the leader of the university’s cheer team.

And you? The only notable thing about you was Izana and Mikey’s obsession with ruining your life.

Feeling even worse, you shrank in your seat, swirling your straw as they have a full on conversation about another upcoming party, their chatter excitedly echoing through the table. You try to tune them out, occasionally looking at Emma as she talks animatedly about whatever the topic was.

Your heart twinged with jealousy at how her eyes lit up as she spoke, breaking into fits of giggles every now and then. When was the last time you made her laugh? Or happy? All you do these days is mope and get her worried-

“Were you invited, (name)?”

'Huh?'

You’re roused out of your thoughts by Senju’s cheery tone, all eyes on you now. Suddenly conscious at your slouched sitting position, you quickly sit up, the question tumbling out of your mouth before you could stop yourself.

“Um, invited to what?”

The entire table raised a quizzical brow at your question and you felt stupid for even asking in the first place instead of just pretending to know what they were talking about. Emma shoots you an annoyed ‘seriously?’ look, in lieu of your absent mindedness and you bit the inner parts of your cheek, looking at your lap.

You have a feeling Emma is getting exhausted of playing babysitter. You can’t blame her.

Deciding to take pity on you, Senju reiterated what she was talking about, leaning closer to you as she whispered. “Tenjiku’s Bacchanalia. It’s where all the popular kids, the crémé la crémé, come to party every year to network. It’s really exclusive and the four of us went last time.” she giggled, as if it was an inside joke you were supposed to be in on. “Izana usually handles the invitations personally, so you had to have been invited, right?”

The question itself was like a slap to your face and an ego boost to your insecurities. If you didn’t feel embarrassed and out of place before, you sure did now.

An important party where the rich kids hang out and the person who hosts it hates your guts.

“I wasn’t…invited. I didn’t even know about it”

Your reply makes Senju’s face crumple slightly, her green eyes darting from you to Emma, who also looked uncomfortable. “Oh” she uttered.

Just as Emma opened her mouth to speak, her phone started buzzing, interrupting her. She picked up the device and cursed underneath her breath as soon as she saw who was on the line, hurriedly standing up. “I’ve got to take this, I’ll be right back.” She mumbled, reaching for your hand squeezing it. Your gaze lingered on her as she walked away, before looking back at the group again.

You catch a glimpse of Yuzuha’s eyes sharpening before looking back at your boba the moment Emma was out of range, causing a chill to run down your spine, as if the atmosphere just shifted.

‘It’s probably all in my head.’

The table is silent, briefly and you’re almost relieved that nobody's prying further information from you until Senju switches her attention to you, her eyes twinkling with mischief as she prods you further. 

“So you really weren’t invited? For real?” She hummed, her perfectly glossed lips shimmering underneath the fluorescent light above her, pink lashes fluttering. You shook your head in response, afraid you would stutter at how pretty she was. She placed a hand on her chin curiously as she added. “I thought since you were Em’s friend, you would be invited.”

“Well, I wasn’t…”

“The Bacchanalia is only for people who have something important to offer, either in talents like Mitsuya with his designs, Tetta with his businesses or Hajime with his connections. (Name) is a talentless pleb with nothing to offer.”

You nearly had a whiplash with how fast you turned your head to look at Yuzuha who didn’t look bothered at your reaction to her statement. You swallowed hard.

“Maybe I wasn’t invited because Izana hates me.” You replied in an attempt to stay coolheaded.

Your heart palpitates as Yuzuha shares a knowing look with the rest of the girls for a minute before bursting out in laughter, their yelps echoing throughout the entire canteen for the next three minutes, making you grow hot from embarrassment, as if you had said something stupid.

As the laughter died down, Yuzuha rolled her eyes at you and let out a disgusted scoff as she folded her arms across her chest, peach lip gloss coated lips quirked up into a sinister sneer. “You know what, maybe you are good at something, acting…” Her voice is full of venom, like she has been holding back whatever sentiment she was saying right now for a long time. “ ...like a victim.”

You quickly realized that this was serious and your heart dropped in your stomach.

You felt blood rushing to your head as her words settled in your mind. You could feel all their eyes on you, as if they were gauging your reaction.

You looked at Hinata, hoping to God she would shut it down but instead she only sits back even further, legs crossed over each other. “Don’t look at me (name)” She chimed in. “You know all you ever do is cry and hide behind Emma, making us look bad.”

Your heart sank at the bottom of your chest. Even Hina hates you too.

“I’ve known her for a while so I’m not shocked by her manipulative tendencies” Yuzuha snarked back, leaning in further until she was close enough for only you three to hear. “Ever since Emma became friends with her and brought her into our dynamic, she has been the cause of every fight. I don’t even know why Mikey apologized to you when you were the one who blew things out of proportion first!”

Your mouth grows dry at the comment. They were blaming you for the fight that happened at the night of the party, despite it not being your fault at all.

Yuzuha doesn’t stop there, turning her gaze back to you, the fire burning in her eyes so bright, it hurts. “Maybe Emma has you fooled, putting on rose tinted glasses for you; because you could never do shit for yourself- but none of us…” Yuzuha gestures with her hand at Senju and Hina, to drive her point, “like you.”

You look at the other two girls and nearly reel in shock at how their demeanor shifted from one of worry, to one of nonchalance and placidity. Senju picks at her nails, looking at you with a devious smirk. “What the hell do you expect? You embarrassed the entirety of Toman and Tenjiku when you made Mikey and Izana fight with Emma. Am I meant to be on your side?”

Hinata, picks up her pumpkin spice latte, mumbling at Yuzuha. “You better hurry up Yuzu, Emma’s coming back soon.” before sipping the drink and leaning back on her chair, rolling her eyes at your shocked expression. “I don’t want to deal with her being mad at me for making her precious (name) cry.”

A lump forms in your throat at the two comments made. How bad of a person were you that the nicest girl in the entire school hates you?

“See?” Yuzuha continued, whispering furiously as she inched closer and closer to your face. “We’re all sick of you driving a wedge between Emma and the rest of us. If you had just stayed in your own lane, then we wouldn’t be doing fucking damage control on our interpersonal relationships each week.”

You sit there, speechless as Yuzuha tears into you, blaming you. For things you know, for things you didn’t even know. “I fucking warned Emma that you were nothing but trouble, but she insists on picking strays off the streets.”

Your eyes widened in shock, mouth agape as you stuttered, trying to defend yourself. “I … don’t call me…”

She laughed at your pained expression, her lips curled up into a mocking smile. “Aw, are you going to cry?” Her smile drops as she lowers her voice, just so that only you could hear her next words. “It’s obvious what you’re doing, isn't it? Sinking your dirty little poverty ridden claws into the highest bidder. That’s why you’re around Emma right? To get to Mikey?”

You could feel the entire canteen drilling holes into your head, all eyes fixated on you. You can hear the little murmurs and snickers following it. Your face burns with embarrassment, wishing that the ground would swallow you whole.

Yuzuha leans further, smirking at how your body shook with a mixture of fear and anger until she lowered herself closer to your ear, lips merely brushing the shell. “I’m going to make sure Mikey will never like you. He’ll know what you truly are and then he’ll never ever want you again.”

Your blood turns to ice at her words, heart dropping down to your stomach. ‘That was years ago… she’s going to tell them… everyone will really hate me-’

You try to get up from the chair and hurl your guts out in the bathroom but a manicured hand forces you to stay put, her orange eyes glaring at you. “Don’t even think about it.” Hina hisses lowly. “You want to make us look like were're bullying you? Sit down.”

You don’t say anything, opting to comply instead in order to placate them. What good would storming off do anyways- other than get Emma very angry at them, proving their point?

Instead, you pick up your boba with shaking hands and sip it fast, washing down the bile gathering up in your throat as familiar footsteps approach your table, the switch flipping in the atmosphere, as if nothing had happened in the first place.

The chair scrapes the floor and Emma sits down again, tossing her phone on the table. “Guess who didn’t write a letter informing the school about the annual party this year?” her voice dripping with sarcasm, rubbing her temple with one hand to soothe her headache “And guess who has to do it for him?”

Senju chuckled at her plight, hand resting on her chin playfully, a stark contrast to her mocking stare just a few moments ago. “I told you that he’d forget about it. Izana is too busy fucking my girls to remember that he’s the one hosting the party.”

Emma grimaced at Senju’s comment, before checking the time and sighing. “Might as well write the damn letter after the next lecture. Come on (name), Hina let’s go.” She said, packing her stuff. You follow suit, trying to ignore Yuzuha’s gaze fixated on you as you arrange your bag and get up from the chair, eager to be free from the uncomfortable situation you found yourself in.

“Bye guys. We’ll meet up at the boutique after school? We still need cute bikini sets for the pool at the party.”

You swallow your jealousy as Emma smiles at her back, eyes gleaming with interest. “Of course! At 6pm sharp I’ll be at the Sorority house with Hina.” She waved at them. “Bye!”

You don’t say anything about feeling excluded from the conversation as the three of you walk away. Emma and Hinata’s excited chatter about the Bacchanalia became nothing but background noise to you as you three walked back to class, Yuzuha’s words ringing in your ears with each step you took.

“Hey, (name), are you alright?”

You don’t look at Emma as she questions you, just shrugging your shoulders while you keep walking down the path to class. She walked closer to you, gently putting her arm around your shoulder as she tried to make you feel better. “Hey, don’t be sad. That kind of party isn’t your scene anyways.” She comforted “We do a lot of stuff that you’re not ready for.”

“Mhm”

Your response dampens her mood a bit, but at this point you’re too far in your head to care. It sounds patronizing at this point how she’s talking to you, like a petulant child who doesn’t understand when they are not wanted.

You understand loud and clear. She doesn’t need to pretend or pity you.

“Come on! You know what, how about this? You can come shopping with us -”

“Excuse me.”

You push her arm off you gently and walk faster towards the departmental building, much to her shock. You don’t answer her constantly yelling your name as hot tears streamed down your face, storming into the building with gritted teeth, bile rising up in your throat once again as you rush to the bathroom on the ground floor.

You make it just in time as you hunch over into the toilet.

“WHAT do you even see in her, anyways?”

Mikey doesn’t pay Senju any mind. He usually doesn’t pay her any mind whenever she’s in one of her rather curious moods about his life. He doesn’t pay her any mind because he knows her like the back of his palm; ever since childhood, she’s always followed him, Keisuke or Haruchiyo around like a headless chicken with no direction.

Those were fond times of simpler days; back when he was a kid and all he had to worry about was what game he, Keisuke and Sanzu were going to play. Or fighting with Shinichiro because a pretty girl hugged him and he didn’t want to wash her off by showering. Since childhood, she always had that mischievous hint in her tone, irritating him to no end at how she would always butt into their business whenever the boys were playing.

She inserted herself in their spaces much to Haruchiyo’s dismay until she made it fit into her own expectations. It wasn’t like Mikey couldn’t kick her out, but he knew that probably doing that would cause a bigger rift between Haruchiyo and Takeomi and she would drift into other predatory, male groups that could get her into big trouble.

But right now, he’s not feeling so generous. It’s the third time she’s asked this question and if Mikey didn’t have any control over his dark impulses, he would have crashed the car to shut her up, permanently.

“Who are you talking about?”

“You know, that lapdog that has attached herself to Em like a parasite.”

Senju’s voice is like nails scratching on a board to his ears, as sweet as sugar, yet as salty as the sea. She knows you are a sore topic for him and yet, she chooses to frustrate him.

The car rolls to a halt, stopping beside the library. He’s never seen Senju in the library before, but she whined about having to walk all the way there when she called him and he decided to just help her out. He expects the conversation to be over now as she’s at her destination, for her to get out and complain about how he doesn’t tell her anything.

Instead, she shifts closer to him from across the passenger’s seat to the drivers, her colder body pressed against his warm body, a constant for her. A soft sigh escapes his lips as her hand worms its way to his hair, fingers gently massaging his scalp in a satisfying way. He finds himself visibly relaxing, the tension slowly leaving his body as she rubs circles into his head, her acrylics giving a nice feel to her gentle actions.

Oh. Mikey understands what she wants. She’s jealous of you.

“Come on, Mikey.” her voice is soothing now, no longer having the masculine edge she uses, as if she’s pouting. He likes it. He thinks this is why she’s so successful in her own gang, her ability to switch personas, you can never tell who is the real Senju. “Does she fuck better than me? Is that why you spend more time with her now?”

Mikey scoffs. If only that were true. You wouldn’t even let him touch you if it was the end of the world. He supposes it was partly his fault for being too rough, but was he that repulsive that you would rather die than sleep with him?

At first, he felt guilty for making you cry. It plagued him for nights on end. Then, he got tired of feeling guilty and it was swiftly replaced with annoyance instead. Why do you get to blame him for anything terrible that happened to you, it's not like he forced you to sleep with him? Or sit on his lap to feed him? It’s not like he made you buy those expensive clothes or he threatened you to enter your room.

You were a willing participant to everything that happened between the two of you. You just didn’t want to acknowledge it because it went against your religious ideals. Afterall, you liked him romantically, what girl wouldn’t want her crush to want to sleep with her?

Sometimes he wonders if you truly like him or its his money that makes you tolerate him.

“That’s much better now isn’t it?” She whispered in his ears and he only nodded in response, not wanting to sound like a fool if he opened his mouth to speak. Ever the weakling for being pampered by anyone, he leans into her touch and lets his guard down. “Or you’d prefer her to do this for you?”

He flushes red at her constant teasing, wanting nothing more to bury his head inside sand with how hot he was feeling right now, being caught red handed. “You keep mentioning her, almost as if you want to get on my nerves” He finally gets out after a few minutes of staving off thoughts about you being so touchy with him, voice strangled with need. “What do you want from me?”

She chuckled into his ears again, making his neck hairs stand at attention. “Just curious, a few months ago, you wanted nothing to do with her.” She hummed in his ears. “Now every waking chance, you’re practically thinking about her, to the point you spent so much money on her. Don’t you think it’s strange?”

“I didn’t sleep with her. You know I don’t touch virgins, so what are you getting at?”

Senju paused her movements, putting her chin on his head as if she’s deep in thought. “Well personally…” Senju started in a sing-song voice. “... I think she’s really pretty and that’s obvious, but she’s not that stunning to begin with. You’ve been with much prettier girls and she doesn’t necessarily have the looks to turn heads.”

“Not everyone can be you, Senju.”

“I know I’m the prettiest girl you’ll ever be with, Mikey.” She snickered, completely ignoring Mikey’s sarcastic comment as she continued her analysis. “But, come to think of it, she kinda reminds me of a certain someone.”

Mikey frowned at her words, not liking the inflection of her tone, as if she was about to imply he was doing something wrong. She took his silence as a hint to continue taunting him.

“Soft, caring, gentle, miserable.”

She lowers her lips to the side of his head, lips gently brushing the shell of his ear as she utters one word that tipped him over the edge.

“Maternal.”

The next moment was a blur, Mikey spinning Senju around until she was face up and he was on top of her in the passenger seat, large hands wrapped around her neck tight. His eyes were darkened completely, nothing behind them but pure, unbridled rage, practically pinning her down with all his weight.

His breathing is heavy, hot against her skin as he lowers his head to hers, their foreheads practically touching each other as he pierces through her soul with his hate filled glare. With each moment that passes, the pink haired girl loses air, her circulation slowly cutting off. 

A normal person would be rightfully afraid and fight the hell for their lives, biting and scratching him to let go. Senju used to fight him off like that too, when he would lose his temper because she refused to listen to him about fighting with people. It used to be an effective scare tactic to show her just how easily she could be overpowered.

But now, Senju knows him. Knows the darkness that consistently plagues him and drives him to the wall. Mikey is no enigma or mystery to her anymore as he is to his foolish admirers.

Instead, she smiles at him, her own eyes shining badly with mischief and something entirely different, naughty. “H-heh. Y-ou’re ju-st as sick as Iza-na” she croaked out snarkily, her minty breath invading his nostrils. “M-mother fuck-”

“Say that word and I’ll snap your fucking neck.”

She clamped her mouth shut at his promise, opting to smile sultry at him instead, despite her dwindling air supply. Maybe it was the masochist in her, but the constant choking had made her a little less scared and a little more interested in the twisted desire of Mikey lashing out on her, doing this repeatedly. Haruchiyo barely paid attention to her presence and always blamed himself for anything Senju did and Takeomi always blamed Haruchiyo, completely skipping her entirely, even when Haruchiyo had nothing to do with it and she did something bad just for anyone to tell her she was wrong.

Mikey though. He fulfills her fantasy of being scolded, hurt, not treated as some fragile princess, but a tool to take out his hurt and hatred on. And she loves it. Perhaps it’s why he’s always the victim of her constant and persistent attitude, watching him tick was always so fun. At least she knew the one place to win him since he was physically stronger than her.

Dark impulses. 

Emma’s lucky to have brother’s that care enough to interfere. Maybe that’s why the blonde girl isn’t as twisted as she is.

The air between the two shifts into something hotter, more charged than before. She coughs violently as Mikey removes his hands off her neck entirely and sits up, his hands flying to his belt. As usual, she watches him from her lashes with interest as he fumbles around with it, ever so impatient to understand or think about what he was about to do with her.

“You’re so desperate” she chuckles as he tosses his belt somewhere in the car. “Bet she can’t fuck you right, huh?”

He didn't say anything as he shrugged his pants off to his knees, breathing harsh as he lowered his face towards hers, capturing her lips in a bruising kiss. She returned it with equal feverency, her fingers digging into his hair.

She smiled into the kiss, closing her eyes to relish in the taste of the sweet pastry he had eaten prior. He pulled away from her lips and began to kiss her neck with fervor, each kiss articulated with quiet “(name)” spilling from his lips as he pushed into her.

The pair don’t notice you staring at them from across the quad, tears streaming down your face.

  “YOU’RE not performing as well as you ought to. What is going on (last name?)”

You could think of a myriad of answers to professor Hanabi’s question, but all of them would sound unbelievable to anyone with a good head on their shoulders.

You didn’t know where to even start as you stood in front of the older man. Maybe it was the crushing feeling of guilt that followed you around, or the invasive dreams when you do manage to sleep off, the Sano brothers taking advantage of you in different, shameful ways as Yuzuha’s voice repeats "karma" until you’re screaming awake, tears rolling down your eyes.

It’s apparent your condition was far worse than before. Concealers could hide your eye bags, but they couldn’t hide the slump in your shoulders or the flash of fear whenever you lock eyes with any of the Sano brothers, especially Mikey.

It was a no brainer as to why school was the last thing on your mind right now.

Your gaze casted down to the big F written on your script. You had thought at least your make up test would be good enough for a C with how stressed you were, but apparently, you were wrong about that one too.

It didn’t make any sense, you had Hinata, the smartest girl in class, teach you before the test. So how did this happen?

‘Oh.’ You remember the events of yesterday at the cafeteria. It makes sense to you now that Hinata would lie to make you fail.

Of all courses it had to be the most difficult of them all with an equally difficult lecturer, who happened to be the Dean of the English studies and Language department; professor Daniel Hanabi.

“I-i don’t understand professor-” you started, about to say the words ‘I did everything right’ but quickly stopped yourself. Professor Hanabi was a strict man who prided himself in being correct every time. Assuming that you did everything right would mean that he was wrong and would only get him angry with you, reducing your chances at any form of negotiation. Instead, you changed the tune of the conversation. “- I thought I was prepared-”

“You cannot keep assuming you are prepared for anything, Ms. (Last name).” He hissed, silencing you immediately. You bowed your head in embarrassment as the blonde haired man started tearing at you. “How do you assume you are well prepared for a course, my course specifically? It is either you are or you’re not and looking at this excuse of a test score, you’re NOT. And you know why you failed? It’s because you’re a moron! A bimbo with nothing in that head of yours-”

You stayed silent as the man continued barking at you, tuning out his hurtful words with every curse and insult thrown in your face. You bit back any form of tears so that he wouldn’t find another reason to shout at you.

“- everyday I spend my time trying to impart knowledge onto you people and in turn you all disappoint me. What do you have to say for yourself?”

You took a deep breath, holding back tears of humiliation as you clasped your hands together. You knew the best thing to do was to tolerate his insults so that he could give you another chance. “I apologize, Professor Hanabi.” You began with a humble voice. “It was my fault. You gave me a lot of time to study and I failed to deliver. But please sir, you have to let me try again! I can do better. Please!”

The room fell silent again after your plea, the only noticeable noise being the whirling of the AC in the dean's office. A lump began to form in your throat at the tense atmosphere, wondering what next he was going to say.

“Fine.” He said, making you sigh in relief, one good thing finally happening in your life for the first time in months now. “I’ll let you retake the test next January.”

“Thank you sir!” You said appreciatively. “I’ll do my very best-”

He waved at you dismissively, not in the mood for any sort of thearatics, now facing the rest of his papers. “Just leave my office before I change my mind.”

   MIKEY should know better than to bother you.

There’s a sensible part of him that knows he should keep his distance from you. With how you cower away from his presence whenever he comes to see Emma after her classes, or how your body goes rigid when he turns to your direction, attempting to greet you, it’s evident that you don’t want to be in the same space or vicinity as he was. Even Emma complained to both him and Izana that she feels like you’re slipping away from her, that you look for every excuse to not hang out with her anymore and she feels so sad. 

It’s not like he didn’t deserve it, even before the events of that night, all his actions prior - from bullying you, to isolating you from any potential friends, the insults, the berating, the way he tormented you for months, turning everyone he sunk his claws into to your enemy, making you the most hated girl in the school- it was only a matter of time until you couldn’t bear to look at him without throwing up in your mouth a little.

He should be happy. After all, it was all he wanted, wasn’t it? For you to be out of their lives? He has finally chased you away.

So why does it annoy him so much that you're avoiding him now?

He stares at you from across the table, taking in your features; you look terrible as compared to the vibrancy of the friend group; your eyes have prominent dark circles, as if you haven’t slept in days, your lips are chapped, dehydrated and your hands twitch nervously underneath his scrutinising gaze, fiddling the spoon in your hands. You’re not looking anyone in the eye, and despite you being usually silent, today it’s different, you look defeated.

Like you don’t want to be here.

“Come on (name), Mikey’s being generous today! He never pays for lunch.” Emma chirps in, nudging you playfully, but you don’t budge. One may think she’s oblivious to your suffering right now, but everyone notices the nervous edge to her voice and the worried look in her eyes.

It’s like there’s this wall that’s impenetrable between you and her.

“I’ll eat”

You fall silent once again, and the meal goes on uneventfully, a little small talk here and there between some of their other friends. Mikey has been quiet too, trying his best not to be obvious in sneaking glances at you, often flickering his gaze to everyone else in their friend group to throw off suspicion. You don’t pay much attention to him or anyone, unlike how in the early days you used to stare at him with so much adoration. There used to be so much life in your eyes, in your body language, in the way you eat, in everything.

He’s succeeded in killing you finally, leaving only your corpse to roam the earth, but he didn’t mean to. If he could bring back that part of you that would worship him, he would. He hates not being the center of your life, not being the reason you’re happy. Sure, it seems like he is being selfish, but he has his own needs as well that you didn’t honor, even when he tried to be nice to you.

You hurt him too, dressing up only to reject his touch. It was humiliating having to deal with the fact that a girl doesn’t want him sexually. He was even willing to break his rule of not sleeping with a virgin for you. He bought you things, he spoiled you and tried to take charge when you were acting like a dead fish and in return, you threatened to kill yourself because he wanted sex like every normal man does and he had to leave with blue balls that night.

Senju was right. He wonders what he saw in you in the first place.

“... can you imagine? They’re not letting anyone stay back in school for winter break.” Emma whined, bringing Mikey back to reality. Everyone else on the table perked up from their food. “What for? What about people who want to stay behind and study? Or people who don’t have anywhere to go?”

Oh yeah. It was in the newsletter that Draken read to him earlier this month -and forced him to listen to. Mikey decides to chime in for the first time since the meal began. “Em, it’s not like they want to chase people out. The school’s undergoing some renovations and they don’t need any one interrupting them.”

“But that doesn’t answer my question.” Emma huffs out. Izana only chuckles at his little sister’s mini tantrum, while Mikey shakes his head. “What about people that don’t have a home to go back to? People that their families abandoned? Where are they supposed to go?”

“They’ll figure it out.” Draken scoffed dryly and some people on the table laughed in response.

“Ken, don't be so callous! (Name)’s in that category since her parents don’t even talk to her anymore-”

Mikey sees it. The subtle way your jaw clenches. But you’re not one to lash out, so he’s not worried. You know how to hold yourself. But Emma doesn’t, continuing on her tirade on just how she hates your parents so much while everyone else on the table looks from her to you.

“- ever since they disowned her, they’ve never bothered to even ask how she was doing! This school’s policy isn’t fa-”

“Emma…”

“-ir at all. Can you imagine? (Name), tell me you’re not going back to them? I can talk to the school if you want me to, they’ll have to listen to me-”

“Emma, please-”

“Don’t worry about it. You don’t have to go back to your shitty parents. Not like they deserve a good daughter like you anyways-”

“Stop it, please-”

Mikey knows that Emma’s in her own world, assuming she’s doing good as she rants about your shitty parents expecting you to agree with her like you always do with everything. But right now, she doesn’t hear the desperation in your tone or see the look of humiliation etched onto your features as everyone turns their attention towards you, staring at you either with pity, amusement or indifference.

“You’re too kind, always protecting them.” Emma sighs, turning to Senju, who like Izana only watches in amusement as you crumble further, tears slowly rolling down your cheeks. The pink haired girl has never liked you from day one, probably because Yuzuha hates you and she - Senju- adores the older woman. “Senju, can you imagine? They kicked her out for wanting to go to school. Ridiculous. Aren’t they terrible people? How would you not want your kid to go to school cause she’s a girl? And (name)’s incredibly smart too-”

“Please stop talking about my parents like that-”

“Oh come on! This again, (name).” She turns back to you, annoyed that she isn’t getting the reaction that she wants. “Why are you protecting them? You know they treated you badly! Your father used to beat you all the time and your mother would just watch-”

“Stop it, you’re making her sad!” Draken tries to cut her off, but it only makes Emma angrier, now facing Draken too. “I’m not! I’m just telling the truth! She keeps taking their side. When have they ever been good parents? Do you know she called her mother some months ago to talk? You all want to know what her mother had to say?”

“Please… don-”

“What did her mother say, Emma?” Yuzuha cuts in, now interested in the conversation, casting her phone aside. Her expression is curious, but there’s a sick glee in her honey coloured eyes, like she’s been waiting for this moment for a long time. “Can you tell us?”

“Gosh! Her mother called her a whore, Yuzuha. Her own mother! What kind of mother calls her virgin daughter a whore for wanting an education?”

The girls on the table dramatically gasped, not because they’re shocked, but because they knew it was upsetting you.

Yuzuha is the first to react, gleeful eyes finding yours, tearfully looking at her as her lips curled into a pitiful smile. “Oh (name), how the tables turned.” She says in a sickening sweet voice. “I know you didn’t think you would end up being your mother’s scapegoat, right? What a shame it happened to you too.”

Your body goes rigid for a brief moment, before snapping back to reality, please spilling from your lips. “Yuzuha please-”

“Huh…” Hinata chimed in, shutting your pleas down as she curiously asked, “Come to think of it. You did grow up together… did you ever encounter (name)’s mother?”

“Of course I did. I babysat her.” Yuzuha says the next part bitterly, as if she’s been holding this in for a very long time now, waiting for the right chance to speak her truth. “Unpaid labor to watch over (name) and teach her good manners. It was hell.” the girls, even Emma laughed, before Yuzuha continued. “You know, (name) acts like a saint now, but back then, she was a self-righteous, obnoxious brat who reported everyone’s wrong doings to her mother and father -letting her parents spread rumors about others, isolating people for silly things. But you know, I forgave her cause it wasn’t her fault she was like that. Her mother was a bible thumping idiot, so it made sense for her to turn out that way, just to get a crumb of attention-”

“Yuzuha, please-”

“But you know what IS unforgivable, though?” Yuzuha’s voice is curt, her eyes narrowed into slits, dealing a devastating blow to your already crumbling reputation. “Your mother called me a lying whore after I told her that your big brother tried to force himself on me.”

The whole table goes silent. Mikey trails his eyes to you, not believing his ears that you were involved in such a terrible act, until he sees the shame and guilt written all over your face, your shoulders trembling with sobs, whispering “I’m sorry” over and over again.

‘So that’s why she didn’t tell anyone anything about what I did.’

Mikey realizes that in a way, he was your karma after all. You would have deserved every single thing he did to you that night.

Yuzuha isn’t done yet. No, she’s been waiting for this opportunity for years, and nothing will stop her from dragging your name through the mud. She starts blinking out tears, trying to hold it in as everyone turns their attention towards you, blood lust permeating the air.

Emma can’t even stare at you. There’s this look of shock on her features, before morphing into one of utter disappointment.

“I understand if you still want to be friends with her, Emma. I kept this secret because you care about her, but everytime I look at this girl, all I can see is the church women berating me for a traumatic experience that wasn’t my fau- fault- oh god I can’t-”

Yuzuha suddenly breaks down, her head buried in her hands as she starts to cry. Hinata and Senju rush to hug the girl, while everyone else stares down at you, furious.

“I feel disgusted just looking at you.” Mitsuya is the first to speak up, his voice full of venom. It’s natural of him to be so protective of Yuzuha, especially because he’s so close to her and Hakkai. “So it was your mother that tried to ruin Yuzuha’s life and then you pretended like nothing happened and tried to join our group?”

“Wait, please I can explain. I wasn’t part of it-”

“Oh, you want to make excuses now?” Keisuke cuts you off angrily. “You’re lucky you’re a woman or I would have beaten you up where you sat.”

One by one, everyone started to gang up on you, cursing you out, not letting you say a single word. Eventually, you felt so powerless surrounded by people screaming at you that you started to cry even more, begging them to hear you out. You turn to the one person that could still have your back, your hands pressed together in a prayer. “Emma, please, you have to tell them to listen to me, please-”

“Why the fuck are you crying now?” Rindou suddenly snapped at you, pushing Emma behind him, not before you saw her turn her head away from you, as if she couldn’t stare at you any longer. “Why do you always have to act like the victim, huh? Is something wrong with you? You should be apologizing to Yuzuha, not dragging Emma into your stupid mess”

You’re quick to fall onto your knees in front of the orange haired girl, your head touching the ground, apologies spewing from your lips. But neither of the brothers, nor their friends care anymore. Mikey feels foolish for worrying about a pathetic human being like you, for having mercy on you instead of taking advantage of you like he should have. All this while, you acted like you were a harmless little ant that can’t do anything, writhing around when someone says something mean to you.

How could he have been so blind?

“Get out before I kill you.”

You look up at Mikey, about to open your mouth to beg him when Izana throws his drink at your head, splashing it on your entire body, sending the message loud and clear; get lost.

Mikey doesn’t feel an ounce of guilt when he sees you carrying your bags and leaving, sobs echoing throughout the entire school.

  SOMETIMES, you wonder if you were cursed.

In the year of your birth, your father had lost his job and became a terrible drunk. Your mother had taken even more frequent violent beatings - already a victim for the majority of their marriage- that year, more than any other year and hadn’t found out she was pregnant until she nearly miscarried you.

Bloodied with a swollen eye and a busted lip, she had more things to worry about than a budding child in her womb. Your immediate elder brother was four and the baby of the house, your three older brothers, aged ten, twelve and fifteen had an amazing relationship with your dad, him never hitting or hurting them. She already had four sons to raise, four sons that would carry the (last name) on for generations and for a split second she considered getting rid of you, despite being against it from a religious standpoint.

But then, your father assumed he would have another son. A fifth son. Your father loved sons, they were easier to raise and they were his pride and joy. The others were turning out good, and despite your father’s violence, life was good. A son brings luck and your father assumed he would get a job soon.

You were born unlucky. You were a girl.

Except for the prompting and care of your maternal grandmother, your mother practically abandoned you, hoping you would starve to death. You barely saw your father’s face, except through pictures and he hated touching you.

You knew your crime was being born a girl; you apologized every day and paid dearly for it. You did everything you were told, down to the most humiliating experiences of your life. You were smart enough to realize that if you could gain the love of your father, then everyone would love you too.

Misfortune after misfortune.

You thought the horrors would end there when you ran away from home. That you would change your destiny and live a normal life. All those books you read talked about finding yourself and love in high school, and you couldn’t really, because of the scrutiny of your family, perhaps university would be where you found it.

But now, it’s all gone. You’ve lost everything the moment you gained it, all for things you couldn’t control.

You don’t know how long you've been crying in the payphone booth, pressing the phone on your ear, waiting for someone to pick you up. It’s late in the night, and you’re clad in only your pjs and a jacket to ward off the cold, standing in a cramped space, miles away from your dorm. Your eyes feel swollen from sobbing for long hours, the only thing you do after school, while applying for jobs, while doing your assignments - an everlong sadness etched into the very crevice in your soul.

“Hello, who is this?”

There are no ties left between you and your mother or any member of your family after you ran away two years ago, to show how foolish the idea was to go back to your vomit. But with everything that has happened, there was no other person you could turn to but your parents.

At least there, you knew where you stood and how to avoid trouble. You knew not to look your brother or father in the eye and you knew they rather have too little salt in their food than too much. Your life back then was horrible, but your brothers respected you enough to not allow any man touch you or humiliate you in public like the Sano family and their group of horrible friends have done, even if it’s all to preserve your family’s image. 

“I’m sorry but if you’re not going to say anything, I’m going to have to cut the call.”

“W-wait don’t go-” You blurt out quickly, racking through your brain to say anything before she starts getting suspicious. “I-i- is the (lastname)’s home?”

“Yes. What do you want?”

Your heart nearly breaks into two at the fact that not even your mother recognizes your voice. Sure it’s been two years but surely your voice hasn’t changed that much since then, has it? Were you that irrelevant that you - her child, her only daughter- were not something of importance or someone to remember?

You comb through your brain to think of something to say. What do you even say to someone who called you a disgrace to all women? That told you she will never ever forgive you for breaking her heart? You’re sure if you lead with a ‘hey, mom, it’s me’ she’d cut the call, still angry at you for running away from home and bringing shame to your family’s name by doing so.

Your parents never forgot your past transgressions when you were in the house, always holding it up over your head and weaponizing it against you to get you to be a good girl. Back then, you were sure they hated you and all your classmates muttered about how abusive it was to be in that kind of situation, but now, even the beatings given to you pales in comparison to the trauma the Sano brothers have put you through.

You want to go back to your parents and tell them you were sorry for thinking they were bad people. That you love them and you’re ready to be a good child and do as they say. “Do you by chance have a daughter?” you decide to test the waters, hopeful she’d be at least receptive to hearing about you. “I’m her friend and I know that I’m doing this behind her back but she really misses you-”

“I had a daughter” she cuts you off abruptly, her tone cold, talking about you in past tense as if you’re dead. Maybe you are dead to your mother at least, with how hateful she sounds, as if your name is poison. “If by any chance that whore is trying to reconcile then tell her to not bother us. Goodbye.”

“Wait, mama it’s me! It’s (name)! I’m sorry, i’m sor-”

The line goes dead before you could say anything else.

Sobs escape from your lips, the phone slipping from your hand to the ground with a dull thud, your body sliding down the phone booth, head buried in your hands as your shoulders tremble. Of course, what did you expect? That your mother would want you back? You’re not her beloved sons who would carry the family name further, you’re a liability of a daughter who couldn’t do one thing right.

Even if you do come home, you’re already partially soiled with Manjiro touching you, with nothing to your name but the shame of failure in every aspect of your life.

“Please mama, I want to come home.”

‘sixteen missed calls from: (nick name) <3’

‘Thirty unread messages from: (nickname) <3’

‘5 voicemails from: (nickname)<3’

  HOW do you forgive someone who has been lying to you your entire friendship?

You're the least person she’d expect to betray her like this. She assumed you were an open book, that you told her everything about your past, your family and your life, because she did so. You’re the first person she dared to bare her heart to that wasn’t either a childhood friend or her brother’s goons. You’re the person she risked all her relationships for, always fighting for you, defending you against her brother’s accusations, that you wanted something from her, probably because you were poor. She even dared to fall in love with you, in love with the person you showed her you were.

But that was a lie. Everything about you is a lie. You weren’t an innocent, helpless girl who was kicked out by her cruel family, you were just as cruel as they were. Outing Hakkai for being gay, keeping quiet about what happened to Yuzuha, ruining a girl’s chance to escape her arranged marriage by telling her family where she hid? It just kept getting worse with each tearful story Yuzuha had told her.

You were not the person she thought you were.

Her brothers had tried to warn her. Izana is usually a good judge of character, and he was always paranoid when it came to you. Mikey’s friendly to everyone, but for some reason, you and him clashed so often. Emma used to put the blame on her brothers’ difficulty to accept change. Now she realizes that maybe they saw something dangerous in you that she didn’t.

Her phone rings loudly again from across the room, but Emma has not made any effort to pick it up, opting to just lie face down on the hotel bed, waiting for Draken to come out of the bathroom. She knows it’s you calling her, begging her to please listen and hear you out, but she can’t bring herself to do so. Even if she picks it up, you’re just going to lie, hide the truth from her to save your skin. How many secrets have you been keeping from her? How many more? How could you betray her like this?

She won’t fall for it. Never again.

Eventually, the calls stop coming in, probably because you’re tired or you’ve figured it out that you’re not needed anymore. She asks Draken to help her delete all the messages and voicemails when he comes out, not wanting to look at them anymore, or she might cave and call you back.

And when he was done, she asks him to fuck her until she can’t remember the name of her traitous friend.

It doesn’t work.

  IZANA loves being right.

Watching Mikey furiously pace around, his fists balled at his side as he curses you over and over again was vindicating. All along, Izana knew you were suspicious, that good girl act of yours, how quickly you became friends with Emma, how not even Hinata liked you when they first met you; it had to mean you were hiding something.

He didn’t expect it to be so big, of course, but it felt good to be correct.

So now, while everyone is reeling from Yuzuha’s confession, Izana is gleeful. You’re finally, finally the villain in this story for the first time and he’s not seen as the crazy bully who tormented you for nothing. Sure, Emma is crying her eyes out in her room as Draken tries to comfort her, and Mikey’s having a mental crisis about how he should have gone ahead that night instead of sparing you, he’s personally, is having the time of his life, pouring shots after shots for himself and Kisaki. 

If he had it his way, he would have thrown a ‘fuck you, (name)’ party to celebrate you being gone from their lives.

“Come on now Mikey!” he calls out, holding out a drink for him, a wide smile on his face. “You’ve got to sit down, have a drink. I’ll even get you a cocktail that’s sweet, just the way you like it. Stop pacing around like you’re the guilty one.”

Mikey stops for a moment, his dark empty eyes darting from Izana’s drink to Izana’s smirking face. His facial expression is almost unreadable, if not for the brewing irritation hidden beneath his carefully crafted blank stare.

‘Oh’ Izana reminds himself of that unfortunate night that he wasted all his energy on helping his brother to get you, his smile dropping outwardly. ‘I forgot that he was also beginning to have feelings for her. How troublesome.’

The white haired man sets down the drink carefully, refusing to break eye contact with his younger brother. It seemed Mikey’s opposing mood must have sobered up Izana, at least to the point where he could stand up carefully and walk up to his little brother until they were standing face to face with each other. Kisaki watches the event unfold, one leg strewn over the other as he sips on his drink.

“Manjiro, rejoice, you can rest easy now” Izana starts, after a momentary long pause. “She can never use what you did to her against you. No one's gonna believe her. I know she was beginning to mean something to you and you were navigating very difficult feelings, things you don’t understand-”

Manjiro’s eyes hardened at Izana’s words even further, the frown on his face deepening. “I think I understand my feelings very well.” He snaps defensively, as if saying he had feelings for you was some kind of insult. “I was not in love with her. I’m just annoyed that I fell for her innocent act.”

Izana blinked once. Then twice. Then three times.

‘This idiot cannot be serious’

Composing himself, Izana takes in a deep breath, rubbing his temples with a groan. He’s back to Mikey denying his true feelings to cope, square one again. “Mikey, it’s okay to feel betrayed by (name). Everyone knows you wanted her and that’s fine-”

“I did not want her.”

“Mikey don’t lie to yourself. I know what I saw that night-”

“I don’t care what you saw, I did not want her then and I don’t want her now-”

There’s a growing frustration gnawing at Izana’s mind, but also amusement. Mikey is so prone to denying his own feelings, and denying the truth, even when evidence was face to face with him, that it was nearly hilarious to watch him do it, especially when it’s someone he feels is beneath him.

“Mikey, do you like her?”

“No.”

“You’re lying. You do have feelings for her. Just admit it. That’s why you’re upset about it right? About what she did? Because now, you’re torn between loyalty to us and going after her-”

“I said I don’t like her. I even feel disgusted for ever touching her in the first place.” Mikey looks terribly pissed at this point, his face red with anger. This was getting ridiculous now, it’s written all over Mikey’s body- the twitching of his left fist, the rapid blinking, even how he’s trying to even his breath to calm down; each denial is a confession. “I’ve got many girls that want to fuck me, she’s not the only one.”

“-and yet, you wanted to chase after her.” Izana spat back. “Isn’t that right?”

“Keep believing in your own delusions, Izana.”

“Delusions? Says the man who keeps jerking off to her nude photos every night.”

Mikey hadn’t even realized when he jumped on top of his brother, pushing him down hard on the  wooden table and knocking the drinks over, shattering the expensive bourbon whiskey Kisaki had just acquired to the ground and started exchanging blows with him. Izana doesn’t hold back either, wrestling Mikey off him to the ground, swinging twice as hard.

“Oh come on,” Izana yelled, articulating his words with brutal blows to Mikey’s jaw and face, sending it flying upward. “Everyone knows what is up Mikey. You’re head over heels for her-”

All Mikey saw was red as he swung his head downwards, landing on his elder brother’s nose hard and destabilizing him, before throwing Izana on the wall. Mikey corners him in place, before punching his abdomen repeatedly, making the older man cough violently. “I told you I don’t love that bitch,” His voice didn’t change inflection as he switched his direction to Izana’s cheek. “Why the fuck don’t you ever listen to me? Are you trying to piss me off?”

The older male blocked the last fist aimed at his face and kneed his brother in his stomach, before kicking him to the floor. A psychotic grin made its way to Izana’s face, like the painful blows were nothing to him. “Just a few weeks ago-” he kicked Mikey in the face, making the blond tumble across the floor. “ -you were all over her, wanting her to sit on your lap and feed you? Bet you called your other sluts her name, didn’t you?”

“So what if I did? Doesn’t matter! I’m not in love with her.”

“Really? That’s not normal Mikey-”

Izana’s mockery only fuelled Mikey’s anger, making him push himself off the ground and kick his brother violently in his face. The white haired man fell straight to the ground, howling with laughter at Mikey’s outburst as the blonde jumped on top of him, ready to punch his face again.

“You’re so in love with her-”

“THAT IS ENOUGH!”

Mikey’s hand froze mid punch at the sound of Kisaki Tetta screaming at the top of his voice from the sofa. Kisaki looked at the two of them, nose turned up in disgust as he folded his arms around his chest. The two brothers looked around them, realizing the wreckage they caused within just minutes of fighting- broken vases, the shattered whiskey soaking into Hajime’s imported rug, and glass shards.

His glass encased eyes scanned around the room, tsking at the destruction. “Kokonoi’s going to fucking kill me.” He murmured before looking at the two males, a frown on his lips. “All this over one bitch?” he asked, a brow raised in disappointment and shock. “I’d be impressed if I wasn’t pissed.”

Izana was the first to react, scoffing at the younger male’s unwanted interruption. “This isn’t your problem-”

“It’s mine now.” Kisaki shot back hotly, irritated by everything that was going on. “Since we can’t even have peace of mind now that she is gone, it’s definitely my problem. The both of you, get up. Now.”

The two of them begrudgingly untangled themselves from each other and got up, dusting their clothes, ignoring the bruises scattered all over their body. Or the blood dripping down Mikey’s face from the cut on his head, and his eye that was now black and swelling up, even the way Izana held his abdomen painfully. Kisaki eyed both of them, moving from Mikey to Izana and then Mikey again.

“Mikey, you know normally I don’t care about what woman you see, as long as it’s not affecting our business.” He starts, taking in a deep, long breath before letting it out. “But everyone’s noticed the change in your demeanour since that party where you and (name) fought.”

“Are you agreeing with Izana?”

“Come on, even Kisaki can see it, you’re the one who’s playing dum-”

“ENOUGH!” Kisaki interjected once again, extremely frustrated by their constant squabbles. The brothers kept quiet, as Kisaki continued. “Mikey, it’s clear there’s a tension between the two of you. I don’t mind whether you label it or not, but it’s clear this is affecting you.”

It was Mikey’s turn to roll his good eye, voice dripping with sarcasm. “I’m fine.-”

“Manjiro Sano, you are twenty-four for god’s sake. Stop being so childish for once.” Izana spat back, getting fed up. Kisaki nodded, agreeing with Izana. “He has a point. You can’t keep pretending it doesn’t exist forever. For some reason, you want her.”

Mikey took a long and deep breath, trying to make headway and listen to what Kisaki was saying, despite the whole ordeal being so difficult for him. His good dark eye flickered to Kisaki’s face as he asked. “What the fuck are you implying”

“It’s very easy,” Kisaki shrugged his shoulders. “you just need to get her out of your system.”

Izana started smiling deviously, wanting to piss off Mikey even further. “Like a rebound? Well, Senju tried, but then she got really pissed with him moaning a different girls name while being balls deep in her-”

“Shut up and let me finish.” Kisaki barked. When he was sure no one was going to interrupt him, he continued. “Mikey, you have to sleep with (name)”

As much as Izana wanted to pass off Kisaki’s idea as a stupid plan, it actually sounded like a good idea. Sometimes, you just need to get something to see how worthless and unimportant it was so that you can let it go. He had to admit, as much as Kisaki was a bastard who was only doing this for his drug business, he couldn’t deny he was more insightful than anyone when it came to interpersonal relationships.

Too bad he couldn’t use that skill to get the woman he loved.

“You’re fucking crazy.” Mikey interjects, his face scrunched up in disgust, repulsed by the idea. “She has rejected me so many times and look at the way we kicked her out of the group. She’s not going to believe me if I suddenly switch up and pretend to be nice just to get in her pants. And I don’t sleep with virgins-”

“But it seem like you really want to fuck this one.” Izana retorts dryly. Kisaki shoots him a dirty look, making the older man raise his hand not clutching his abdomen in mock surrender.

“I don’t want her.” Mikey spits out. It’s clear he’s getting tired of everyone being on his case about you. “Yeah, I wanted to sleep with her at some point, but she sucks at everything I ask her to do. She can’t even satisfy me sexually, even when she’s on board. There’s nothing redeeming about her personality, she’s a boring prude with nothing to offer. Why the hell would I chase after her?”

“Mikey, are you sure? You know, we can help you-”

“If she ever approaches me again, I’ll snap her neck.”

Without saying anything else, Mikey picks up his phone and storms out of the room, slamming the door behind him. Kisaki collapses on the couch, snatching the bottle instead of the shot glass, mumbling something along the lines of Mikey being a ‘spoiled brat’ and how he’s tired of all this dramatic nonsense before downing the drink in one go.

Izana stands there, looking at the door, blinking slowly as if processing everything that just happened, the wheels turning his head. He knows Mikey is lying about not wanting you, Izana can see it in his younger brother’s eyes and it should anger him, after all, he went through the stress of dealing with the aftermath of the situation, then setting up the mall outing that would make you indebted to Mikey and do whatever he wants with you. After all, those are times where Izana could have been doing something else entirely.

He should be angry. He had every right to. Any normal person would be angry for that much effort over something that didn’t work.

But when you’re Izana Kurokawa, you take every opportunity that has been staring at you for so long, even the one that doesn’t seem desirable enough at first glance, because in the end, you know the rewards are far greater and more interesting for the future.

A twisted grin makes its way to his face, his eyes gleaming with overwhelming excitement as the pieces fall into place for his next move. He was known as the gasoline to Mikey’s flames, always fanning the flames of dark impulses in Mikey’s heart and pushing him to be the worst version of himself.

And it seemed like Mikey just needed a little push in the right direction to lead him down the path Izana wants him to go.  

‘It’s my turn to play with your toy, little brother’

Bonus:

  SCHOOL closes eventually for the holidays.

Your roommate was already gone days before the official day came, leaving you all alone and you would have asked to come with her, but you know her answer would be a strong no. You tried calling Emma again, but her line doesn’t go through anymore, reminding you of the bitter reality that you’re truly alone in this world.

The school’s order was swift, kicking anyone left out or handing out suspensions to anyone that refused to leave. The last thing you needed was a suspension, so you packed a little of your things and wandered around in the bitter cold of the winter.

Things were hard at first. You tried your best not to look suspicious so that no one would suspect you’re homeless and call the police to report you or harrass you. At night, there was so much violence- fights would break out, there was so much stealing. Some of the men in the surrounding area had tried to take advantage of you, but you didn’t hesitate to defend yourself, fighting back and escaping.

It’s not like it’s your first time being homeless. So you know. It’s not easier for you, but at least you’re not as naïve as you were at seventeen.

Eventually, you wound up at a homeless shelter somewhere around town. It was crowded, cramped and smelt like damp mold most of the time, but at least you had a bed and two warm meals everyday. You could study now with little fear of getting robbed here, and go out and look for some odd jobs to do to earn money.

“Hey, missus cambridge, it’s food time.”

Your head snaps up from your book as the woman calls out to you. You didn’t really know her name or anything about her other than how she lost her kid and then everything in her life spiralled, wounding her up here. She was as nice as one could be trying to survive, giving you the name missus cambridge because you always held your bookbag so tight whenever you slept and then you did nothing but read all day or work all day.

“Yes mam.” You said, dropping your book, stuffing it into your bag and strapping your bag to yourself, before heading out towards the church. You were told that every Christmas, they donate food to the shelter from December to January, before disappearing into thin air. You found it ironic, the way that the soup drive gave them something to say they’re good people and call it a day. You don’t blame them. You don’t blame anyone for doing what they want to do.

After waiting your turn and getting your food, you sat down quietly somewhere far away from others. For once in your life, despite not having a roof over your head or a stable place to eat, you had peace of mind. No one was dragging you around and forcing you to do what you don’t want. Or breathing down your neck and telling you want to do. Or trying to rape you constantly.

Just peace and quiet.

‘Maybe this is better.’ you thought to yourself. ‘It’s better if I am alone. Everyone I loved always betrayed me or turned their backs on me. And it’s exhausting to keep enduring it. I don’t have to pretend to like people that hurt me or want me dead. I can live my life, now.’

With that understanding, you eat your food like it’s the best thing in the world. Being alone wasn’t so bad after all.

[torasplanet]

hey guys, it's been a while I know. I'm terribly sorry for all the requests I've been getting and I haven't been fulfilling but I don't have the energy to write anymore, certainly not on tumblr. you can read this entire thing or you don't have to, i'm not forcing you. i'd just thought i'd give an insight on my absence and the problems surfacing writers.

tumblr has become such a toxic place within the writing space and I know that tumblr has never really been known for its positivity but lately, I feel like it's been getting a tad bit worse in the writing perspective. many users make it hard to write and read as suddenly nobody is allowed to have opinions anymore.

i get everyone is entitled to their own opinions and responses but some are very rude. i get you don't particularly like the things me and other writers write but that is no reason to attack writers for the things they enjoy to write and read. this goes to both writers and readers.

but i feel as though both parties should be respectful to one another because writers on tumblr rely on their readers for people to read them and possibly get motivation to continue. readers depend on writers because without them, you would not be a reader.

i think the community also needs to focus on appreciating works even if you do not personally like them. i have been writing but not for my tumblr because i'm tired of getting anons telling me that they don't like how i wrote something or that it's crude and disgusting, i'm tired of deleting them. i never post them as i do not want to make this blog centered around negativity and my writing only, i purely delete them.

the things i write, i like them and even if they are a request, I do them because i think its a good idea. i'm not asking anyone else to like them, if you do that's great and if you don't thats fine too but please stop telling me that you do not like it. because frankly I don't care and stop telling other writers this. to readers and writers, unless someone's work is purely wrong and problematic, i find no reason to hate.

i also find no reason to hate on anons who are asking about your absences if they are genuinely cared for you. i've seen people being plain rude on both sides and i think people have forgotten how to be kind to one another. for all the people who love my writing, i may continue writing or i may not. i just ask for everyone to be paitent and kind to me and one another so tumblr doesn't have to be app where people have to worry about if they'll be attacked for something they put their entire heart into or just a kind-hearted ask or comment.

please no hate, feel free to give your opinion🫶sorry if this makes no sense, this was sort of a ramble haha

[torasplanet]

❝𝘽𝘼𝘽𝙔 𝘽𝙄𝙍𝘿.ᐟ❞

I. MIDORIYA + TAKAMI!GN. READER'

𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮 ; izuku dating number two hero, hawks' little sibling!

𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜 ; fluff, hcs + scenario, pushing my big bro!keigo agenda, so expect that ngl, nerd!izu, petnames(baby), and skin color not mentioned

we all are aware of izu's fascination with heroes, correct? so you being the sibling of a hero that's in the top three is quite literally a dream for him

like to him it actually feels like he's dating a celebrity

see, a few of you might think that he'd be scared to ask you out or somethin' because of your relation to hawks but nope.

he doesn't give a single shit if hawks is one of those overprotective siblings or not, well he does but not enough to stop pining you

pushing my bold!izu agenda!🗣

izu is not one to just give up on his dreams and his dream is to be with you

so he is more concerned and anxious about what you'd say in response to that rather than what hawks would

in fact, you being his baby sibling actually makes izuku want you more

i mean, you're powerful obviously whether you have the same quirk as hawks or not and izu would love to date someone powerful! he doesn't have a preference or anything, he doesn't care if you have a quirk or not but he's a little nerd so he'd jot down all of your quirk information in that notebook of his and compare it to hawks'

don't get me started on when he found out you go to U.A...

boy is asking you to study every day which just turns into him inspecting your quirk and ends in you throwing his book aside and wanting to relax with him

going back to if you had hawks' quirk, this man will not rest until every single detail about it is in his notebook

like he's finding out shit that YOU didn't even know😭he's just so invested in you and your brother's quirk similarities and differences

but don't get him wrong, that's not the only reason why he's dating you. it's just a little plus.

"ugh, did you really have to poke my wings with your pencil?" you asked as izuku sat behind you muttering things to himself while he wrote in his little hero notebook about your wings and all the things that were different about them from your brother's. izuku has been wanting to research this since he found out that the number two hero had a younger brother with the same quirk and you finally let him! "sorry, did it bother you? i know you don't like my hands being cold." he responded looking up from the filled pages as you looked over your shoulder at the green-haired male.

you quirked a grin at how he looked at you all concerned "no just think it's a bit weird. do you really have to check my wings?" izu shook his head as he read over the written words to check if he misspelled anything "of course i do. how else am i supposed to find out the differences in your feathers and hawks'?" he muttered rubbing his hands over his sweater as an attempt to rid them of their coldness before touching your back around where your feathers spewed from your flesh.

"ha! you might as well be my doctor." you didn't expect this sleepover to involve this but you can't say you were exactly surprised about him wanting to look at them. izu was always so determined to find the differences between you and keigo's quirks because to him, there was absolutely no way that it was exactly the same all around and the only differences he's found yet was the color.

"i'd be glad to play doctor with you. seems fun." izuku said with a chuckle from behind you "okay, this might hurt." he said with a small laugh making you think he's joking but when you felt one of your feathers being bended unnaturally, you yelped. extremely loud.

izu was quick to wrap his arms around your head and cover your mouth while shushing you as he reminded you that your brother was in the house and fast asleep "sorry, i didn't think it'd be that bad! don't yell, hawks is asleep." he muttered apologetically while sweat-dropping but you just pulled his hands away from his face carelessly "don't worry, keigo sleeps like a dog." and as if the world snitched on you, the door slammed open revealing your brother with bedhead looking extremely upset from being awoken by your screams.

"i do not!" the blonde shouted at you with a glare in his eyes but you just returned the look "well you snore like one!" izuku sat there awkwardly listening to the two of you argue while tapping his pencil eraser against the paper "and you look like one–midoriya you could do better honestly." hawks said redirecting his gaze to the green-haired male that sat on your bed looking like a deer in headlights at the mention of him.

well, this wasn't what he was expecting but he was being involved in arguments so he was now a part of this small family. he couldn't be more excited!

©torasplanet .ᐟ reblogs and likes are very appreciated! pls do not repost!!

[torasplanet]

BIPOC, Latin(x), & Hispanic tag-list Pt.10(remastered)

@demensrage @neighbourscat @ayyy-pee @badgyalshii @bibiwrld @pinkanpretty @gr0ggy @nasty-quillz @inkdrinkerworld @aswho1estuff @ykulovesocialsux @blkwriters @triangularz @ssorenz @torasplanet @visceral05

[torasplanet]

omggg this was sooooo good i was crying pls read !!

ONCE BITTEN, TWICE SHY

pairing: vi x fem!reader word count: 10.5k summary: after years away, vi returns home for the holidays and reunites with you, her ex-girlfriend. the universe (*cough cough* and your meddling families) push you together again, and neither of you can ignore the feelings that linger. (or: you, vi, and the ghosts of christmas past, present and future.) warnings: reader is ekko's older sister but not necessarily biological so appearance isn't specified; childhood friends to lovers + second chance romance; reader gets hit on by a creepy guy + gets into a fight (injury + blood mention), smut [strap mention (reader receiving), oral (both receiving), fingering (both receiving), biting, spitting, tribbing, sub!vi makes an appearance...kinda rough + possessive sex but there's aftercare too <33] (18+) ! a/n: HAPPY NEW YEAR GIRLS AND GAYS <33 tbh i debated whether to post this now bc xmas was like....3 weeks ago but figured i might as well. so pls enjoy what is essentially an x-rated sapphic hallmark holiday movie.

♪: ‘tis the damn season by taylor swift (sun); winterbreak by MUNA (moon); last christmas by wham! (rising)

track 1: thank god it’s christmas by queen

(winter — age 17)

“okay, just relax your fingers — no, but keep some tension, apply a bit of pressure on the string….yep, that’s better. now, straighten your back….”

it’s dark and snowing outside, and the cold’s seeping in through the window of her attic bedroom, but vi still almost melts into the floor when you follow her advice and press against her chest. she worries that you can feel how fast her heart is beating — faster than it maybe should for someone she’d been calling friend ever since she could remember. 

you shift in her lap, her arms still wrapped around yours from when she offered to guide you through an instrumental version of wham’s “last christmas.” you tilt your head towards her, nose almost brushing against hers. 

“vi?”

“....yes?”

“maybe we should finish our lesson another time. we better hurry up, anyways. i bet ekko and powder are already arguing over whether we should watch home alone or home alone two.”

vi snorts. it’s practically a tradition at this point, along with the annual post-christmas-dinner pyjama movie night.

you try to hand her the bright pink guitar pick, but vi shakes her head.

“it’s yours. you’re gonna need it if you want more lessons.” 

“hm, or maybe i could sell it for a billion dollars once you’re a big rockstar,” you tease. “i can picture thousands of fangirls painting your portrait and writing mrs. violet lanes in their notebooks.” 

you get up, shoot her a wink, and leave vi on the bed, clutching her guitar and trying to get her pulse under control. 

neither of you say anything as you both get changed. the stereo plays the mixtape you’d made for her — you got her for secret santa this year.

“my mom loved this song,” vi hums, a warm ache growing in her chest when the next song plays. this is the second christmas without her, but vi is still not used to using past tense. “she thought freddie mercury was the best rockstar of all time.”

“i remember. you…you must miss her.” 

of course she does, and she could run through a million reasons why.

“vander says you’ll be spending new year’s at your dad’s,” is what she says instead.

you let out something between a scoff and a laugh. “yeah.”

“your mom going, too?”

“just me and ekko. i swear, it’s like he’s trying to be this perfect dad to his new stepkids, meanwhile he’s the one who left us here to deal with his mess, the one who just ran away, and….whatever.” this time, you do scoff. “hey – do you have a shirt i could borrow?”

vi looks over to find that you’ve switched from the velvet dress you wore during dinner into a pair of flannel plaid pants; her cheeks flush when she sees that you’re only wearing a black lacy bralette on top. 

she clears her throat and pulls a clean jersey from her dresser, tosses it over to you. 

“that’s a shame. i was looking forward to spending new year’s eve together.”

you hum and slip the shirt over your shoulders. the only sources of light are the moon and the stars and the multicoloured christmas lights strung along vi’s walls, but she swore that your eyes flick down to her lips. 

“why’s that?” you ask. 

there’s something absolutely dizzying about being this close to you, the way your sparkly eyes wait patiently for her to respond. joni mitchell sings about skating away on a river, and vi wishes she could skate away from this conversation, but there’s nowhere to go. 

vi blinks away from your gaze and fixates on one of the many things she’s pinned up on her bedroom walls throughout the years. it’s a page torn from an old notebook of yours, something from seventh grade math class, but vi always loved your little drawings in the margins. 

vi?” you prompt, never one to let go easily.

“i want to kiss you at midnight,” she confesses.

“yeah?” 

vi nods. she’s tempted to walk out of her room, down the stairs and out into the winter night, until you weave your fingers through hers and squeeze her hand. she looks up — and you’re beaming, a smile that brightens vi’s entire being. 

“i want that too.”

vi finally, finally crashes her mouth onto yours, lips sticky with marshmallow fluff.

you taste like vanilla and gingerbread and hot chocolate that is definitely not spiked with irish cream that vi slipped into your mugs while you distracted the adults. 

you taste like home.

….

so, slight change of plans….i’m gonna stay here in london with the rest of the band. apparently the kirammans throw a super fancy holiday party with super fancy people every year, and cait convinced her parents to let us perform. fingers crossed someone important discovers us.

merry christmas, baby. and, if i don’t get the chance to say it: happy new year.

….

track 2: winter wonderland by darlene love

(winter — age 12)

you’re supposed to be looking after ekko while your parents are at work, but all that really means is making a big bowl of kraft dinner and stove-top s’mores for lunch and watching old christmas specials on the worn-out living room couch while you draw in your sketchbook and your brother, only 7 years old, programs the doorbell to play ‘jingle bells.’ 

when someone rings the doorbell, the tune floats through the house and wakes up your dog who starts barking like it’s the end of the world. 

“easy, ziggy.” you click a marker closed and run a hand through the husky’s fur, attempting to calm him down. “let’s go see who it is.”

you open the door, and there’s vi: snowflakes sparkling on her eyelashes, pink hair hidden under a knitted hat, and a toothy grin that brings out the dimple in her flushed cheeks. she’s also got a split lip and crooked nose from her last hockey game.

“we’re building a fort,” she tells you. she shuffles to the side so that you can see powder, who’s making a snow angel. “well, we’re going to. wanna join?”

you nod, smiling. “ekko!” 

your brother’s already behind you, slipping on his chunky boots and oversized coat that used to be yours before running outside and collapsing onto the fluffy snow next to powder. ziggy bolts outside, too, running circles around them. 

you stumble to get your winter gear on as fast as possible, the cold air rushing inside your front hallway as vi waits for you, kicking her snowy boot against the concrete entryway step. not even a heartbeat after shutting the door behind you, vi takes your gloved hand in hers and pulls you forward, the two of you a flurry of laughter.

…..

hey, pretty girl. i was at this party and one of your songs came on! every time i hear it, i’m in awe of how amazing it is….how amazing you are. i’m basically walking home in a snowstorm, so i’m gonna go before my fingers freeze off, but i just wanted to say that i’m so proud of my rockstar girlfriend.

i was also wondering: are you coming home any time soon? the holidays are coming up, and i really miss you. we all do.  

…..

track 3: last christmas by wham!

(winter — now)

vi should have learned from sonic youth and fleetwood mac: 

no sex or romance between bandmates. it never ends well.

it was bad enough giving into the rumors and fooling around with cait, but it’s another layer of messiness now that cait and maddie dating. meanwhile, cait is very much still bitter towards vi, vi is very much pining after someone whom she’s pretty sure never wants to see her again, and steb and lorris are very much caught in the middle. it’s no wonder the band’s manager suggested everyone take some time apart to ease the tension. frankly, while others protested, vi was almost relieved at the suggestion.

so cait’s off to london, maddie’s off to glasgow, the boys are going god knows where, and vi —

vi’s heading back home, back to you.

she wakes up in the bed of her childhood for the first time in a long time. her dad put on fresh sheets, but they’re still the same ones from back then — worn flannel with cartoon penguins. it takes a lot of willpower to untangle herself from the warmth and cloud-like softness, but eventually she heads downstairs to the kitchen.

powder still has exams so she’s not home from college until tomorrow, and vander’s gone to work. it’s just vi in her too-small christmas pyjamas (she has yet to unpack), eating a box of stale cinnamon pop-tarts for breakfast even though it’s well past noon. curiosity gets the best of her, so she peers through the window to see if anyone is next door.

your mom’s car is in the driveway, completely snowed in. there had only been a dusting of snow while vi was devouring the first pastry, but four pop-tarts in and it’s about doubled. she waits until the snow stops falling; with nothing better to do and a sugar rush to burn off, vi pulls on her old winter coat and snow boots she hasn’t worn since she was 18, grabs a shovel from the garage, and gets to work. 

it doesn’t take her long to clear the driveway, and she has some adrenaline to spare, so she decides to be a good neighbor. 

vi’s heaving one last shovelful of snow over her shoulder when she hears:

“violet? is that you?” 

she turns around. and, okay the first thing she registers is ziggy running towards her, the husky toppling her over into the snow.

“i missed you too, zig,” vi laughs. 

she gets up as ziggy’s still bounding around in the snow, and sees your mom standing in the doorway, looking a little more tired and a little more gray. but the smile on her face when she sees that it is, in fact, vi — it’s so bright that the snow might not exactly melt away, but the years sure do. 

vi remembers making snow angels with you while your moms gossiped over tea, how the two of you would stomp inside with a mess of slush and snow while laughter echoed from the living room. vi remembers your mom keeping a comforting arm around her shoulder through her mom’s funeral while you held her hand. she remembers your mom helping her pick out the perfect corsage to match your suit at prom, making a joke about how next time it might be an engagement ring, and telling vi how proud her mother would have been of her at your high school graduation party. 

with the golden glow of nostalgia comes a crashing wave of guilt at what vi said to you last time you spoke. 

“come inside, sweetheart. i’ll make you some hot cocoa as a thank you.”

vi is tempted to reject the offer, but your mom looks so hopeful and vi’s fingers are about to freeze off, anyways. 

so your mom makes hot cocoa as vi defrosts, the two of them chatting in the familiar yellow kitchen that you and vi once almost burnt down while trying to bake a cake for powder’s birthday. even the magnets and paper memories decorating the fridge are the same, with the addition of an article about vi’s band that was featured in the rolling stone, pinned up by a ceramic cow. 

“she’s an art teacher now,” your mom tells vi after giving an update on ekko. she glances at the oven clock. “speaking of which — i know you just finished shoveling our driveway, but do you mind helping me with another favor?”

“after the world’s best hot chocolate? anything.”

“i told my daughter that i’d pick her up from work, and i’m wondering if you would be able to take care of that.” your mom smiles. “i’m sensing a bad migraine coming on.”

the last sip of hot chocolate trickles down vi’s throat like cement. she knew she’d be seeing you, but didn’t quite plan for how that….reunion might go.

“of course,” vi says. 

vi puts both of their mugs in the dishwasher, about to grab the car keys from the hook by the door when your mom calls out: 

“oh, and violet?” vi turns around. “i’m so glad you’re home.”

you’re talking to a student when vi enters the art room of your old high school. nothing else in the building had changed — same boring concrete, same scratched up lockers, same graffiti immortalizing whom hooked up with whom. this room is the exception, vibrant with how students’ art is displayed all around, paintings and drawings and collages, and you’ve strung up multicolored christmas lights that give the whole space a cozy ambiance. you look the part of a cool, young art teacher: wearing a simple dark purple turtleneck tucked into black jeans and the same combat boots you’ve had since tenth grade, paint stains on your skin that is exposed by rolled up sleeves, and a marker behind your ear. you’re standing in front of an easel, talking to the student who happens to notice vi before you do.

“holy shit. is that violet lanes?”

vi watches as your face scrunches up in confusion, and then falls into shock when you see her standing there.

“it seems that it is violet lanes,” you state coolly while the student squeals. “what are you doing here?”

“oh, i, uh,” vi clears her throat, her palms sweaty. why is her body reacting like she’s a teenager about to ask out her crush for the first time? “your mom wasn’t feeling great, asked if i could pick you up from work.”

“you guys are friends?” the student asks, eyes wide as they flick between you and vi. 

“we used to date, actually,” vi clarifies. wrong move, she realizes, because you can’t help but glare at her.

“oh my god.” the student squeals again and reaches in their pocket to whip out their phone. “i need to tell alyssa that ms. l/n was in a relationship with the violet lanes. are you guys gonna get back together? oh my god, have you come to win her back —”

“layla,” you clip, and by the furrow of layla’s brow, it seems like you’re not usually so stern. you smile at layla, but it doesn’t quite reach your eyes. “you’ve done some great work today, but you’ll have to finish this when we’re back from winter break. do you mind giving ms. lanes and i a minute?”

layla nods once, gathers her things. when she walks past vi, she can’t help but ask for an autograph. vi complies, of course, even lets her take a selfie. a fan is a fan, after all.

and, quite frankly this is the only part of being in the band that she still enjoys: hearing how excited young girls are at the music she writes, the music that vi wished she had growing up. everything else is just an occupational hazard that vi’s getting more and more fed up with. 

when vi turns her attention back to you, you’re finished putting all the material away, wiping your hands with an already paint-stained towel.

“i meant what you’re doing back in town,” you explain, not quite meeting vi’s eyes. you pack away some books and your laptop into a supple leather briefcase, and slip on your coat. vi’s cheeks flush when you catch her watching you. 

“it…it doesn’t matter. i’m here for a while, though.” 

you sigh. “okay.” and you don’t say anything more. vi keeps up with you as you switch off the lights, lock the door, and stride to the parking lot in silence. when you get to the car, you extend your hand.

“i’m driving,” you say, gesturing at her to give you the keys. “we both know that you’re a terrible driver.”

“i’m not a terrible driver,” vi guffaws. 

“says the lesbian who gives the rest of us a bad name,” you quip, a hint of a smile dancing across your lips, like the first bout of sun after a winter storm. “c’mon, pretty girl. i’m not giving up, so unless you wanna freeze to death….” 

the nickname slips effortlessly from your tongue, so much so that you don’t even seem to realize it, but vi’s breath hitches and she’s more than happy to fold to your every whim if it means hearing you call her pretty one more time. 

“so….” vi glances over at you from the passenger seat. a snowy landscape passes outside the window, and you tap on the steering wheel to a generic christmas song that plays through the stereo. “you’re teaching high school now?” 

she wonders if you remember the last fight you had, almost two years ago to the day.

you keep your eyes on the road. “yeah. guess i graduated from finger-painting with kindergarteners.”

vi feels her cheeks heat up all over again. 

so, you do remember. 

she wonders if you’ve replayed it over and over again and hoped for a different ending like she did. she should have thought more about what to actually say to you —

“you know, i never understood why you liked this song so much,” you suddenly say when the radio starts playing dolly parton’s cover of ‘i’ll be home for christmas.’ 

vi can read between the lines, but she’s waiting for you to point out the irony in her preference for a song that’s about someone wanting to go home for christmas, something vi has deliberately avoided at all costs these past few years. 

“it just seems kinda sad,” you continue. 

“you love ‘last christmas,’ and that one’s pretty sad,” vi points out.

“sure, but it ends hopefully.”

“oh?” vi tilts her head towards you. “how’d you figure? 

“sure, it’s someone singing about heartbreak and how much it sucks during christmastime, but then there’s this hope that they still find true love down the line. it’s a maybe that isn’t hopeless.” you shrug. “meanwhile, your song ends with the lyric ‘if only in my dreams,’ which just seems too accepting of the fact that going home for christmas, being with the person they love — it might just be a dream.”

“i don’t know. some dreams do come true,” vi muses. 

by now, you’ve made it home. you put the car in park but keep the engine going, presumably to avoid becoming icicles. neither of you make a move to leave. 

you glance over at vi. “your dreams sure came true, ms. violet lanes,” you joke, but there’s an air of sadness to it.

“not all of them.”

“yeah? which ones haven’t?”

vi swallows the lump in her throat and hopes that you understand the look in her eyes. “let’s just say i’m working on them.”

you blink away and cut the engine.

….

you’re still dealing with the shock of seeing vi back in town when your brother, freshly home from college, suggests going skating. 

he can be fairly convincing, especially when he mentions that it’s a christmas season tradition, so, you prepare for what is essentially a double date with your brother, his girlfriend/your ex-girlfriend’s sister, and your ex-girlfriend, with isha as a fifth wheel.

should be fun. 

it turns out, despite all her past hockey experience, vi really cannot skate. in fact, skating seems to be the complete opposite of riding a bike: she’s terrible at it after years off the ice, essentially reenacting that scene from bambi. it’s easier to ignore vi’s presence when she’s sitting next to the snack bar, by herself, but then powder skates up next to you and asks if you’d be kind enough to please help her sister have a good time. you roll your eyes at her shit-eating grin, but it is a bit sad, watching vi on the sidelines. she’s wearing a beanie and a pair of sunglasses to hide her identity, and now she kinda looks like a divorced dad watching his grown kids pass him by while he’s stuck in a midlife crisis.

you convince vi to give skating another shot — it’s tradition after all — and pull her out onto the rink. you start by holding her from behind, keeping her hips steady until she gets the hang of it. you try to let go, but vi stumbles and reaches out for your gloved hand, and you melt into the familiarity of her fingers curled around yours. the two of you fall into a comfortable rhythm, first with you pulling vi along, then with her taking the lead, until vi almost knocks into a small child.

“see what i mean by you being a bad driver?” you jest, successfully maneuvering to avoid collision. 

then, you follow where vi’s eyes have settled — on powder and isha laughing and chasing each other around the rink. vi had asked earlier when isha had dyed her hair blue; you still have some residue under your nails from last weekend, when powder came for a study break and the three of you ended up helping isha achieve a new look she’d apparently been itching to try. 

“you know powder’s graduating this year?” 

“she overloaded her credits so she could get out of there as soon as possible,” you explain, having had many conversations with powder leading up to the decision. 

vi nods, her jaw clenched. you already know what she’s thinking, and frankly, you agree: that vi hasn’t been here, literally and figuratively. you also feel the warmth of vi’s skin radiating through her glove to yours, notice the slight flush to her freckled cheeks, how chapped her lips are from the cold, so much so that you’re tempted to share the vanilla chapstick you’ve got on your own lips, to kiss her deeply like you did last time you were here, together.

it’s only been three days since vi’s been back home. this is only the second time you’ve seen her, and you’re already falling back into old patterns, tempted to ask her to stay, to try again, even though you already know the answer.

except….not staying isn’t the deal breaker it used to be, so maybe trying again isn’t as hopeless as you think it is.

vi squeezes your hand, and you realize that you’ve stopped skating entirely. 

“hey. you still with me?”

you nod, decide to enjoy this moment for as long as you can, and the two of you glide across the ice.

…..

when you suggest making stove-top s’mores, it’s another item on the list of things she’d missed. 

a list that’s been growing a lot these past few days.

vi offers to make more once you’ve all run out, and ekko follows her into their kitchen while you, powder, and isha keep watching christmas specials in the living room. she turns on the gas stove, stabs a marshmallow through a wooden skewer and waits for it to roast — and, for ekko to say something.

“i don’t know what happened between you and my sister, but i need you to promise me that the tabloids aren’t true. that you and that kiramman chick didn’t hook up…at least until after y’all broke up.” 

“or, what, you’re gonna challenge me to an arm wrestle? think you can finally beat me?”

“oh, i know it.”

a pause. the marshmallow catches on fire and vi blows on it to quell the damage.

“i didn’t cheat on her.” she throws out the burnt marshmallow and gives it another shot. “i would never. does….does she think i did?”

ekko shrugs. “not sure. some of those articles are pretty convincing. but, since you’re promising me that you didn’t…”

“i didn’t.”

“then that saves me from kicking your ass.” ekko nods once and uncrosses his arms, handing vi some graham crackers and chocolate. “actually, i could use your help with something.”

“sure.”

“she applied to this great art residency in new york, like, on whim. the only people she’s told are me, powder, and vander….i think she’s nervous to tell mom, at least until she knows for sure she’s gotten in, but this is the most excited i’ve seen her be about something in a while, and she worked really hard on her application…” 

“i’m sure she did,” vi states. “what do you need my help with?”

“convincing her to go.” 

“i’d love to help, but i’m not sure i’m someone she’d wanna hear from, especially about this. she was never a fan of me leaving to pursue my dreams.”

“she was never a fan of you leaving,” ekko corrects. “she’s still a fan of you pursuing your dreams.” he juts his chin out at the article stuck to the fridge. 

vi had just assumed that your mom had pinned that up.

“okay.” vi says. “i’ll talk to her.” 

a plateful of semi-burnt s’mores later, and vi and ekko return to the living room with the rest of you. 

vi forgot how nice this felt, all of you cuddled on the couch, ziggy included, watching how the grinch stole christmas. she half expects her mom to walk in through the door without even knocking, shake the snow off her hair, and hold up a batch of pre-baked gingerbread people she’d gotten for the kids to decorate.

but that’s not happening. other than isha, none of you are kids anymore and things can never be the same.

and yet — you glance over at vi and give her a sticky marshmallow smile, and she feels her heart grow three sizes.

….

baby, i swear it’s not what it looks like. the record label thought it would be good promo to get a picture of me kissing under the mistletoe…’tis the season and all that…..cait and i were both really drunk and things got a bit out of hand….but it looks worse than it is. i swear on my mother’s grave that nothing happened.

please call me back, baby…..i’m so fucking sorry….please. 

it’s not christmas without at least hearing your voice. 

….

track 4: river by joni mitchell

(winter — age 23)

it’s hard to believe that hours ago, you were kissing vi backstage and showering her with praise after the concert. she was happy to indulge in your excitement, even though she was all sweaty and her ears were still ringing from the crowd. 

more than happy, in fact. phone sex can only go so far, and it’d been too long since vi had seen you writhe and heard you whimper for her firsthand. 

“i missed you so fucking much,” you groan, tightening your grip on vi’s hair. it’s now an inky black instead of fuschia — the band’s starting to lean more punk rock. 

a particularly hard thrust is her way of telling you that she missed you too. so fucking much. she throws your legs over her shoulders, pushing the strap deeper inside you and digging her knees into the mattress as she coaxes you through another orgasm. you pull her down for one last searing kiss, your tongue searching each crevice of her mouth. 

“i can’t believe you’re here,” vi continues a few moments later, after you’re both cleaned up and getting dressed. she wants to add something along the lines of i love you, but she bites back the sentiment. she’ll save that sappy shit for later tonight, when she finally gets down on one knee for you. 

you glance back at her from where you’re pulling out a sparkly silver dress from your side of the closet (and isn’t that such a slip of the mind? your side, as if it’s a shared closet and a shared bedroom and a shared home; if she thought about it more, though, she would realize that, though she has no problem asking you to marry her, she’s still terrified at the thought of staying in one place for more than a few months).

“me neither,” you smile. 

vi walks over to you, presses her half-dressed body against your lingerie-clad form (vi’s sure you wore this fuschia set just to drive her insane; it’s working). she lodges her hand behind your ear and pulls you in closer, kisses you deeply because you’re here and she missed you so fucking much and she’s so ready to make you her wife.

she could write a whole record just about the taste of your lips: the sweetness of vanilla chapstick, the saltiness of sweat and the headiness lingering from the wetness you lapped up from between her legs.

you pull away first. vi tries not to stare at how your chest heaves, your breasts straining against intricate lace. 

“we, um.” you clear your throat. you slip your hand underneath vi’s blazer, and she groans when you make contact with the exposed, burning skin of her abdomen. vi thinks you’re about to suggest another round, or two, or ten, but instead you untangle yourself from her and say: “we should probably get ready.”

the after party is going well. the club’s busy, the music’s good, and the drinks are flowing.

you seem to be having a great time until someone (probably cait or maddie, on cait’s behalf) lets it slip that the band’s heading to london later in the month to start recording their new album before the end of the year….something vi decidedly did not want to tell you until later tonight, after the high of the proposal, after she’s promised you that she’s dedicated to this relationship, that she’s always been dedicated to you. 

instead, vi’s trailing behind you as you angrily stomp towards the bathroom, her mind scrambling to come up with a way out of this argument.

there’s a line, but you cut in front and slip inside as soon as someone walks out. 

“wait, what the fu —”

you slam the door and lock it behind you once you’re both inside, ignoring the subsequent banging and jiggling of the handle.

“please, baby, let me explain —”

“i can’t fucking believe you,” your voice is steady, measured, and for some reason that makes vi even more nervous. “you give empty promise after empty promise that you’ll be more present, but something always gets in the way, is always more important than —”

“don’t you dare say that you’re not important to me. i offer to fly you out anywhere to be with me, but you’ve only taken me up on the offer once. twice, now.”

“it’s been five years, vi. five years of us staying together because….god, at this point i don’t even know why — ”

“do you not understand how much i love you?” vi raises her voice over the sound of the club music outside. “i was gonna propose tonight.”

you stare at her, then start to laugh.

“please tell me you’re joking.”

“i’m not.”

“if you think marriage will save us, then you’re delusional. what was your plan — call me your wife while we’re thousands of miles apart, but not even have the time to answer my calls? we’re barely in a relationship now, vi. all that’s left between us are missed calls and voicemails —” 

“oh that’s really all that’s left between us?” 

“i love you, violet. i have since we were kids. but, now, there’s also all this — the parties, the crowds, the fame….you’ve gone all over the world, and you can’t even be bothered to visit your family during the holidays.”

“well i’m sorry that my ambitions are bigger than that nothing town we grew up in,” vi snaps. “i can’t believe you’re throwing a tantrum because i’m not making it home for christmas. for what? so we can all reminisce by the fireplace, pretend that we can be kids again, even though things can —” vi chokes back a sob, soothes it with a healthy dose of anger. “things can never be the same. you need to grow the fuck up.”

“maybe you should be the one to grow up!” you finally yell. “convincing yourself that this relationship is working, meanwhile you’re running away from everything and everyone you grew up with because it reminds you of your —”

“at least i’m not afraid to actually go after my dreams,” vi cuts you off before you can finish that sentence, uses the broken shards of your words against you. “don’t you want more for your life than finger-painting with a bunch of kindergarteners? you’re gonna end up just like your deadbeat mom, going nowhere, drinking yourself to sleep, all alone, with nothing to show for the life you’ve lived.”

as soon as the words leave her mouth, vi wishes she could take them back. you don’t bother swallowing your tears, letting them rush down your cheeks. vi digs her nails into her palms to prevent herself from reaching out and wiping them. it wouldn’t make sense, anyways. she’s the reason you’re crying. 

you take a deep, shaky breath.

“yeah, well, i’m glad that your mom isn’t alive to see what a selfish asshole you’ve become.” there’s a pause, and vi feels her stomach turn at your casual cruelty, your quiet anger. “i’m gonna pack up my stuff and catch the first flight out of here. merry fucking christmas and happy fucking new year. have a nice life.”

vi screams and throws the velvet box against the door you’ve slammed shut behind you. the hot tears that were building in her throat finally boil over. the engagement ring clatters onto the floor.

…..

vi? it’s me. not sure if you’ve blocked my number. i wouldn’t blame you. i know it’s been, like, a year, but it feels weird not hearing your voice for this long, especially around the holidays. well, i guess i could just turn on the radio….it’s not the same, though. anyways, merry christmas. happy new year, too. and….and i’m sorry. 

please come home.

…..

track 5: i’ll be home for christmas by dolly parton 

(winter — now)

karaoke at the last drop used to be one of vi’s favorite christmas traditions, so you decidedly avoided it at all cost since the breakup. vander always tried to convince you to join, but he understood and even made sure to not give you a shift during that time after you started working there at 21. 

you kept the job because, evidently, high school art teachers don’t make a ton of money, and you would one day like to move out of your mother’s house. 

which, as it turns out, might happen sooner rather than later. you applied for this artist residency in new york, and, yeah, you put time and effort and heart into your application, but you were sure that you’d be rejected. while you got your acceptance email this morning, and you were so fucking overjoyed at first, the thought of leaving still terrifies you, so you’ll postpone worrying about that until after the holidays. that’s what they’re for, anyways: a break from reality, a peek into a cozy snow-covered world where everyone is festive and joyous and worry-free.   

right now though, you’re feeling neither festive nor joyous. gert called in sick, and no one else is able to cover for them, so you’re stuck at the last drop on christmas eve, listening to one of your old high school classmates drunkenly fumble the lyrics of darlene love’s ‘christmas (baby, please come home).’

about three verses in, vi walks into the bar with mylo and claggor, flakes of fluffy snow melting into her grayish pink hair. you’re already pouring their drinks before they reach the counter. mylo and claggor offer their sincere appreciation, chattering away as they leave to snag a booth in the corner. vi stares at her drink before grabbing the beer glass. 

“you remember.” 

“are you surprised?”

vi smiles. “no. it’s just nice. cait keeps insisting i order gin martinis instead. says it’s classier.” 

something sour curdles in your stomach. “yeah, well. i’ve always liked you the way you are.”

that probably ended up sounding like you’re still pining after vi (which you’re….not) rather than the bitter comment you intended it to be. 

vi’s soft blue eyes search yours. 

“i better get back to the boys,” she finally says. “maybe sign up for a song or two.”

you’re busy clearing a table when you hear her voice again. actually — a silence fills the bar, and it’s replaced by the lush rumble of vi singing ‘last christmas.’

you watch her as she performs, eyes locked on yours, and it’s over before you know it. you feel like you should go say something to her, but then there are a bunch of excited fans that she has to attend to, signing autographs, taking photos.

as you swallow your disappointment, the normal chatter of the bar resumes. you’re walking back to the kitchen when you feel someone pinch the back of your thigh, right under your ass. you whip around to find that old classmate who butchered a christmas classic an hour or so before (james, you think his name is, from ninth grade science), with the most arrogant smirk.

“hey, gorgeous. my friends and i were just arguing over who should take you home tonight.” he gestures towards a table of guys who look like equally preppy assholes. “i won the chugging contest.”

“good for you,” you say, balancing a tray of empty glasses. “grope someone in here again, and you’ll be sorry you did.” you turn around to get back to work, but james grabs your wrist and stands up abruptly so you’re chest-to-chest.

“i don’t think you understand what i’m offering, baby.” you gag at the nickname and the stench of beer on his breath. you’re a bartender, you’re used to getting hit on, but creeps like this are the worst.

you rip away from his grasp. 

“i’m not interested,” you snap. “and i’m not your baby.”

“listen.” james puts his hands on your shoulders, and if both of your hands were free, you would promptly push him away. everyone’s having a good time and you don’t wanna cause a scene, so you try to think of ways to get this asshole out of the bar and into the snow without much of a fight. “you know, santa might come down your chimney on christmas eve, but if you’ve been a good girl this year i’ll come down your —” 

“there you are!” powder’s voice is loud over the sound of someone singing another generic christmas carol. she knocks into your side, breathless. “sorry we’re late. had some car trouble.”

“well, hello.” he removes his hands from your shoulders, shifts his predatory gaze from you to powder. 

oh, fuck no.

“powder,” you keep your voice steady even if your heart is racing. “go back to the table. i’ll be there in a sec.”

james reaches out for powder, but you punch him square in the jaw before he can so much as touch her, the tray of glasses crashing on the floor. 

james’ flirtatious smile is long gone, replaced with the kind of anger only egotistical, self-important jerks have when they don’t get what they want and they’ve taken a blow to their ego. 

in fact, he’s angry enough to deliver a punch right back to your face.

you hear a crack upon impact, and pain radiates from your nose. you stumble, but powder manages to catch you before you tumble into the broken glass. she holds you as people start yelling. you think that vander rushes over, too, shouting at james to get the fuck out of his bar and never step foot in it again. 

you lick your lips, tasting blood. your ears are ringing, and everything is all a bit fuzzy. powder tries her best, but you slump your body weight into hers and she almost topples over.

“i’ve got her.” vi’s surprisingly calm voice cuts through the chaos. you feel a strong, familiar arm wrap around your waist to steady you. 

somehow, you find yourself in the bathroom, sitting on the counter as vi stands between your legs. she carefully examines your injury, but you notice how she avoids making eye contact. 

you feel your head spinning all over again. maybe it’s the adrenaline, or the fact that the two of you haven’t been this close in a while.

“remember teaching me how to throw a punch?” the question slips past your lips before you can stop it.

vi looks slightly amused, and she finally meets your gaze. “‘course i do,” she hums. “you tried to convince me to help you start an all-female fight club at school.”

a smile creeps onto your face, despite the pain from your nose.

she remembers. 

somewhere within her, vi holds on to fragments of you.

“thank god the principal vetoed it. would’ve been a disaster,” she continues.

vi wipes the blood off your face, the sleeve of her silk red button-down now stained a darker crimson. “how’s your hand?” she asks. 

you flex your fingers. “it’s been better,” you answer, your knuckles slightly aching. “totally worth it.”

vi smiles sadly. “i guess you’ve been the one protecting my sister while i’ve been away.”

while i’ve been away. 

the reminder feels like a stab to the heart. 

vi’s back home, sure, but only for a limited time. 

her fingers graze your cheek, and the breath hitches in your throat.

“you know, i only wanted to start that fight club as an elaborate plan to spend more time together,” you confess, opting to preserve the delicate bubble of nostalgia you’d stumbled into together. “we were each so busy….i had studio, and you were always away at hockey games. it wasn’t realistic in the end, though.”

“i would’ve stayed if you asked,” she tells you, and you wonder exactly what she might be referring to. 

you swallow the lump in your throat. “it’s what you loved, though.”

“but i - i loved you, more. you had to have known that.”

“yeah, well. i loved you, too,” you explain, and it’s clear that neither of you are talking about a lesbian fight club. “whether it was hockey, or music….as long your heart was in it, it was more worth it to let you go, to not stand in the way of your dreams.” 

“you were my dream.”

you scoff, cheeks heating up, and look away. “you probably say that to all the girls.”

“no.” vi guides your chin towards her. “just the one.”

it’s hard to determine who leans in first, but soon enough your lips are on vi’s— messy, urgent. noses bumping together, teeth clacking against each other. she cradles your face in her hands, and you wrap your legs around her waist to bring her closer. you taste beer on her tongue, and maybe a hint of lime, but it’s overwhelmed by the salty, metallic taste of blood stained on your lips. when you run out of air, you pull away. it’s clearer now: you’re not dizzy from the adrenaline, but dizzy from her. vi’s gaze is heavy on yours as she traces your top lip with her thumb.

“vi,” you whimper, itching to kiss her again. 

“you’re still bleeding.”

vi wipes away the blood with the sleeve of her shirt. before either of you can do or say anything more, there’s a knock on the door. vander, wondering if you’re okay and if maybe you could hurry up and get back to work. 

you can’t sleep that night. before, staying up on christmas eve was an elaborate operation to catch santa. now, it’s overthinking a very hot kiss and all the unresolved tension between you and your ex-girlfriend next door. 

logically, you knew that you missed vi, everything about her and who she is, the way you would laugh and argue and make love. but the rush of feeling her tongue licking into your mouth, her body melding into yours after being apart for so long….

you’re scared that she won’t feel the same, but you’re even more terrified of letting the moment slip through both your fingers without at least trying. 

so, you grab your phone, deciding to finally reach out to her, when by some christmas miracle you get a text from her.

she climbs through your window not long after, wearing plaid boxer shorts and a zaun university sweatshirt you’ve been looking for, for about five years. you didn’t bother to change, either, only wearing an oversized shirt. you sit cross-legged on your bed as she waits by the window. vi stares at your chest for a good few seconds, and you remember that you’re wearing one of her band’s concert tees, faded from years of wear. 

“so, um,” vi starts, her voice as soft as the well-worn cotton of your shirt. “we have so much shit to talk about and figure out, but, i, uh, can’t stop thinking about early tonight —”

“vi.” the swarm of butterflies in your stomach is replaced by something more delicate, more urgent. “do you wanna come sit?”

vi swallows thickly, looking between you and the still open window. a winter breeze rushes through. you shiver, thinking she might just turn around and disappear into the cold night. instead, she shuts the window, removes her snow-covered boots, and settles onto the bed next to you.

you place a tentative hand on her cheek, still cold and slightly flushed. she shudders when you run your thumb over the tattoo under her eye.

“i know there’s a lot we have to work through.” you take a deep breath as she shifts closer, suddenly dizzy from the familiar scent of her winter pine old-spice body wash. “right now….right now, i just want you.”

“yeah?” vi smirks, her shyness melting away. she settles a warm hand on your bare thigh. “how do you want me?”

you exhale sharply when her hand travels higher, dull nails scraping at the fabric of your underwear. 

“it’s cute that you’re flustered,” she quips, leaning in even closer. her breath is warm and heavy against your lips. “because i’ve spent so many night replaying all the dirty, nasty things we used to —”

you tug her sweatshirt and pull her back onto the bed, feeling her body solid against yours. the vibration of her groan shudders through your body when you crash your lips onto hers with such hunger, you’d think you had been starving without her. 

“how’s about an encore, superstar?” you drawl. 

you bite your lip hard at how vi nods at you desperately, eyes all dark and lustful.

“you read my mind,” she breathes. by now, her hand has reached the hem of your shirt, and she pushes up the cotton to reveal the supple skin of your stomach. you give her permission to remove it, leaving your top half exposed.

her lips nip and suck down your body until she reaches the waistband of your panties. she pulls it up with her teeth, the elastic snapping back when she lets go. you whine her name, and she looks up at you with dark eyes. 

“can i?” her breath fans over your navel, her nails digging into your hips as she waits for your answer.  

“yes. please.”

you hadn’t meant to sound so desperate, but you could feel vi smirk against your inner thigh before sinking her teeth into it. you whimper, and vi salves her tongue over the area to ease the sting before removing your underwear. she positions your legs over her shoulders for better access to where you need her most.

vi moves her tongue and fingers in all the ways she remembers makes you shake, curl your toes, and grind down on her face. in return, you grip her pink hair, tightly, and utter praise in all the ways you remember makes her shake. 

“just like that, pretty girl,” you encourage, practically melting into the mattress. it feels so good — dangerously good, intoxicating, even — to be devoured by vi.  “keep doing a good job and i’ll return the favor later.”

vi’s moan vibrates throughout your body and she becomes faster, reaches her tongue deeper, bringing you over the edge. she leaves a few more bites on your body on her way up to meet you and when she does, vi’s lips and chin are shining with your release.

you lean forward slightly to lick it up. you ghost your mouth over hers.

“your turn,” you taunt and run your thumb over her tattooed cheek. 

you twist your calf around vi’s leg and flip your positions. she lets out a yelp when her back hits the mattress. once you’re hovering over her, legs and arms on either side of her body, you do what you’re sure you’d never get tired of doing: you kiss her, passionately, deeply. you bite her lip as you pull away. 

there was always a bit of jealousy that gnawed at you, became your very-own shoulder devil that you just couldn’t shake when you were together, no matter how hard you tried. it was no secret that vi was admired by many, that girls around the world were crushing on her, hoping they’d catch her eye, get their chance with her. you never felt like she was yours, and yours alone. 

but you do get a deep satisfaction knowing that right here, right now, you’re the only person who gets to see her like this — pink hair splayed across the pillows like her very own halo, but the rest of her telling a much less-angelic, much more sinister story: her lips swollen and kiss-bitten, her cheeks a devilish shade of red, her eyes dark and lustful and waiting for you to make the next move. 

"you want me to have my way with you?" you whisper, voice honeyed with desire.

vi whimpers, a sound that fuels the fire in your abdomen. "yes."

you practically rip off her sweatshirt, kiss down her jaw, her neck, her exposed chest and sternum down to her stomach. vi lifts her hips from the bed so that you can remove her boxers, and you’re delighted to find nothing else underneath. 

you’re greeted by her glistening pussy. blowing onto her folds, you run your tongue from her hole to her clit, loving how you already feel her slick coating your lips. vi spread her legs even wider, and you take the opportunity to sink two fingers into her cunt. you know her body, as well as you know your own, as well as she knows yours. you flick your gaze up, view slightly blocked by the pink curls of her bush, but you can still picture it — how her eyes roll back, how her mouth opens to release a perfectly delicious gasp.

"god, i've barely touched you and you're already about to come. did you miss me that much?" you tease, feeling her clench around your fingers. as if you aren’t subtly rutting your hips against the mattress, eager to ease the throbbing between your legs. 

all you get in response is whine. it’s muffled, and you crane your neck upward to see her biting down on her knuckles, so hard you’re worried she might break skin. 

unacceptable.

the rest of the world gets to hear her every day, any time they please. you want to be serenaded by the lyrics of her want, the notes of her desire. all for you and you alone.

with your other hand, you reach up to pinch one of her pierced nipples, always so sensitive. "answer me, violet."

vi props herself up on her elbows to look at you, just as you remove your mouth from her.

"yes!" she sings, practically sobbing. you'd be lying if you said you didn't feel the throbbing between your thighs intensify, hearing the frantic lilt of her voice — like she needs you and only you. "i missed you so fucking much. please, just do something."

at her request, you move up the bed so that the two of you are face to face, one of your hands holding her chin while the other is two fingers deep in her cunt. you add another, just to reveal in the timber of her sultry moan. she tries to bring her hand back, to quiet herself, but you shake your head. 

with your thumb, you trace over her lips, uneven and scarred and imperfectly beautiful. "open." 

vi obeys you instantly. you spit in her mouth, heart racing as you watch her swallow the combination of your saliva and her cum without question.

you continue fucking her with your fingers until she moans, louder and louder as she reaches her peak.

removing your fingers from her pussy, you lock eyes with her as you bring your syrupy fingers to your mouth and suck off her juices. then, you kiss underneath her ear, lips sticking slightly to her skin, and you whisper: "now i know why they say you have the voice of an angel.”

“fuck,” she exhales, the breath turning into a chuckle as you kiss underneath her chin, where you know she’s ticklish.

"one more time for me, okay, pretty girl? i want to feel you against me," you whisper. "i want to watch you fall apart, knowing that i'm the one who makes you feel this good."

vi nods, allowing you to adjust your positions so that your cunts are touching. you start fucking her down into the mattress and she sits up slightly so that your nipples brush against each other, the cold metal of her piercings encouraging the roll of your hips, her nails digging into the curve of your ass to bring you impossibly closer. 

“i missed you too. so fucking much,” you finally admit.  you flick one of the silver rings before leaning down and wrapping your lips around her nipple. 

“i missed these, too,” you add as you release her nipple with a pop, and vi moans. you’re grinning from ear to ear because, holy shit, vi is here and you’re together and you’re both happy, if only at the ecstasy of your silken cunts gliding against each other, at the taste of the other slicking your tongues, as thick as nectar and twice as sweet.

she laughs — love and magic and everlasting bliss — and you have to capture her lips now if you want to swallow the sound. you feel it bounce through your ribcage, awaken something deep within you that you feared was lost to time.

vi thrusts her hips upwards, presses harder against the seam of your cunt until you’re gushing against each other, not quite sure who’s making what mess. 

strings of cum connect you as you remove your body from hers. for a few seconds, you both lay on your backs, staring up at the ceiling and trying to catch your breath. vi drapes an arm over her eyes, chest heaving. 

you throw on some clothes and leave the room, hoping that vi’s still there when you get back.

….

vi worries that if she opens her eyes, she’ll wake up from this dream. 

she’ll be in some uncomfortable bed in london or tokyo or los angeles. the dull ache between her legs would be thanks to some girl who’d be eager to text all her friends and spill all the details about what vi likes in bed, or caitlyn who would tell vi to shave next time, darling, or i won’t let you fuck me again anytime soon.

instead, vi hears the creak of a door opening, feet tiptoeing along the floorboards. the mattress shifts with the weight of someone between her legs, though their body is not touching hers. 

“vi, baby,” a gentle coaxing, a familiar voice, pulling towards something she forgot she needed. her heart soars when she finds you kneeling on the bed, holding a damp towel in one hand and a glass of water in another. 

“yeah?” her voice is hoarse, but her throat doesn’t sting in the same way it does after a concert. it feels tender, well-used, well-loved.

you hold out the cup of water, watch vi eagerly gulp down half of it before she realizes what she’s done.

“shit, i — did you want some?”

you smile and shake your head. “i had some downstairs after my shower.” it’s then that vi registers the water dripping from the ends of your hair, soaking the fabric of her (fine, your) sweatshirt. “i’m gonna clean you up. is that okay?”

vi nods.

okay? okay? vi thinks she might have whiplash. 

it’s been a while since someone has fucked her so well she’d be satisfied for years and then touched her so tenderly afterwards. you run the damp cloth over vi’s sticky, sweaty skin, occasionally leaning down to press soft lips where you’d left teeth marks and bruises before. 

“there.” you throw the cloth on the floor. “so, um. do you wanna stay….?” 

you bite your lip as you wait for vi to answer. you start picking at your nail polish, too. vi sits up and grabs your hand. 

“i do,” she soothes. “do you want me to?”

your smile brightens the entire room and you kiss vi before muttering:

“i do.”

vi slips on her boxers as you settle into the bed next to her, leaving her top half bare. she notices the sketchbook on your bedside table, and she lifts it up at you, a silent question if she can flip through. you take it from her as you shift to sit between her legs, her chest warm against your back. the room’s only illuminated by the string of multicolored christmas lights you’d left on, but vi can see the talent, the passion behind your work as you walk her through your sketchbook. you tell her about the techniques you’ve been working on and new mediums you want to explore, about how you want to make the kind of art that makes people appreciate the beauty in the everyday. 

“i always loved your art,” she muses. vi cranes her neck slightly, places a kiss on your shoulder then one on your cheek. “the world would be more beautiful if you shared it.”

you hum and place the sketchbook on your bedside table. you each shift to your sides, facing each other; vi notches a leg around your hips, and you throw an arm around her waist, fingers trailing down her tattooed back. 

“ekko talked to you, huh?”

“i would have said that even if he hadn’t,” vi promises. “so….have you heard anything yet?”

“well….yeah,” you sigh, smiling shyly. “i got in, actually.” 

“really? that’s amazing, baby.” she beams at you, excitedly cupping your face in her hands, leaving small kisses across your cheeks until you’re giggling. 

“okay, okay,” you laugh. “i don’t know if i’m gonna go yet.”

vi hums knowingly. she presses her forehead against yours. 

“i know you’re scared, baby,” she says softly. “but sometimes it’s just a leap of faith.” 

“i know.” you pause, gnawing at your bottom lip while your eyes fixate on the scar on her upper lip. “can i ask you something?

“anything.”

“when you proposed to me….” her body tenses up, but you brush your hand over her bicep and the tension in her muscles dissipates. “was that a leap of faith? like, were you scared?”

“well, not at first.” she takes a shuddery breath, her voice suddenly small. “i always thought that we’d be together….i just didn’t think through how we’d make it work, i guess. i didn’t mean to mess things up, though.”

“hey.” vi leans into the hand you cup around her cheek. “we both messed up. we never actually talked, you know? but….i’m glad we are, now.” you swallow. “i still love you, vi.”

vi exhales. “you know, girls tell me that they love me pretty much every day.” 

you can’t help it — you roll your eyes, and vi laughs. because, truthfully, her heart has felt more full at your admission of love just now than it ever has for an area of screaming fans.

“there’s a point to this, i promise,” she says, nudging her nose against yours. “i used to get such a thrill from it….but then i think about what you said earlier. my heart — it’s just not in it anymore. all the band is now is drama and gossip and compromises of fame over art, and…. i don’t know. it’s not really what i want anymore. i want to be with you. for real, this time.”

you blink at her; she can feel your chest pulsing against hers like a hummingbird.

“would you, um, if i were to take that leap of faith and do that artist residency, would you —”

“anywhere you wanna go,” vi promises. she thinks about it a bit more….how nice it’s been to be home for the holidays, how nice it would be to come home year round.  “preferably close enough so we can have dinner at home on the weekends.” 

“sounds like a plan,” you smile.

the two of you twist closer underneath the flannel sheets, sink into the mattress, and gaze up at the faded glow-in-the-dark stars stuck to your ceiling until you fall asleep in each other’s arms.

you jolt awake a few hours later, several firm knocks on the door and ekko shouting:

“it’s christmas! get the fuck up before ziggy eats all the bacon!”

beside you, vi protects you from the frosty winter morning. her body radiates warmth, and her eyes flutter open, ever so slightly, as you gently shake her shoulder. 

she groans, turning on her back, rubbing sleep from her eye. 

“i better go.” 

“....yeah.”

you flush when you glance over as vi’s slipping on her sweatshirt, rose-petal bruises delicate across her skin. she opens the window, hair still mussed up, and a gust of frigid air rushes into the room. 

the image is so familiar: vi, one leg in your room and another out the window. you feel like a teenager again, scrambling to get dressed and avoid anyone hearing that you’d snuck your girlfriend into your room late at night. but there’s something else now, too — you imagine this becoming routine: waking up next to each other every day, swapping clothes, kissing over coffee and pancakes at breakfast. a place where the two of you might create some new memories, build a shared life together. and much more, so much more that feels like it could be your reality, sooner rather than later. 

you’re so deep in thought that you don’t notice vi rushing back towards you. she kisses you and kisses you, until your lungs are burning.

"merry christmas, baby,” she mumbles against your lips.

you grin back at her. “merry christmas, vi.”

....

hi baby, i know you’re at studio right now, but i forgot to ask you this morning: how do you feel about sending out holiday cards this year? i know they’re kind of cheesy, but it seems like the type of thing married couples might do…..

anyways, we’ll talk about it when you get home. i’m test-driving this new recipe for brussel sprouts to bring to dinner at my dad’s. 

i’ll see you later. love you!

[torasplanet]

UGHHHH SOSOOOSO GOOD IVE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS AND IT WA WORTH IT

Monsters: Mikey Sano x Reader x Izana Kurokawa

Chapter 3: The Lesser of Two Devils

series summary: your grievous sin was Emma standing up for you to her brothers. and now you’re going to pay the heavy price for destroying their perfect family dynamic.

cw: DARK CONTENT, MISOGYNY, NSFW, smut (character x character), dubcon, noncon, DARK IMPULSE MIKEY, depressive thoughts, victim blaming, sucidial ideation, religious guilt & discussion (very brief), gaslighting, power imbalance, manipulation, abuse (domestic, verbal, sexual, finanical), love bombing, violence (physical, mental, sexual), slut shaming, peer pressure, dry humping, attempted rape, nonconsensual filming.

r-18+ (not suitable for 17 and under)

wc: 13.3k

[masterlist] [chapter 2] [chapter 4] [taglist]

a/n: the reason why this chapter didn't come out earlier was because I was sick and busy with school. Anyways comments, reblogs and anonymous asks are welcomed.

“DON’T you want to know what me and (name) talked about?”

Mikey doesn’t look away from the burger he’s eating, but he hears Izana loud and clear. The cool morning breeze hits his skin, his golden hair flying in the wind as the two men sit on the ledge of Toman’s balcony, legs dangling from the porch. On a normal day, Mikey wouldn’t be awake by this time, opting to catch some extra hours of sleep until he is forced to go to class. But with the possibility of you saying something to Emma about the incident at the car and Izana going ahead to fix it, he was too restless to go to bed.

He forgot that you could still tell someone, even with your promise. You had no reason to honor it, especially with how he treated you badly, So to get the voice message from Izana with you saying you will keep quiet, was surprising.

“You already told me she’d shut up about the whole thing.” Mikey murmurs, gulping down the last part of the food. “I don’t care about her beyond that.”

A chuckle escapes Izana’s lips as the tanned man takes out a cigarette pack from his pocket. He picks one out with his teeth, then stretches the pack to Mikey. Mikey shakes his head no, at least not now that he just ate a really nice burger and Izana merely shrugs, pushing it back into his pocket, before taking out his lighter. They sit in silence as the lighter flickers on, and Izana brings it to his lips, before shutting it off.

Mikey stares ahead of the weather as Izana smokes, the sun barely peeking out of the dense clouds surrounding it, meaning it was probably going to be a rainy day. He remembers his teenage years, whenever it was rainy and Shin had to go to work, leaving Izana in charge, the three of them would have rainy days, doing things like building large pillow forts, playing video games or a makeshift band with Izana on the guitar, Emma with her drumset she barely ever used and him on the vocals. He and Izana always got along, they were having too much fun to even think about fighting, and it made Emma happy too.

Eventually, as they grew older, rainy days were spent apart, with Izana either busy with work or smoking in his room and him busy with his own gang, in his own world.

And Emma; they left her all alone. Not like they had a choice, they just couldn’t bring themselves to drag her into the lifestyle they were knee deep in or endanger her by bringing her out with them. In hindsight, they were just trying to protect her, but in a way, Mikey knows she resents them for isolating her.

You were her act of defiance against their strict rules. She could hide it with her words that she was fine with her upbringing, but her actions speak even louder for herself. Mikey just wished she defied him in a better way than being friends with someone outside the Sano approved group.

Silence continues between the two of them as they do their own thing, watching the sun attempt to peek out of the dense clouds. Sometimes, Mikey feels like the sun, constantly competing with the cloud of darkness hovering above his head, waiting for his carefully crafted mask to slip just a little bit, so that it can consume him and leave him with nothing.

It already happened once with you in that car and he knows that it cannot happen again.

What happened was a mishap. Something he knows he shouldn’t do again, yet he doesn’t understand what exactly he did wrong.

It confused him to no end. Was it that you felt guilty because your religion said premarital sex is wrong? Or maybe he was too aggressive with you, pinning you down until you couldn’t move? It wasn’t like he had a choice because you kept on fighting him every step of the way.

He looks at his brother peacefully smoking, thinking about the earlier proposal he had offered. Come to think of it, what could you have told Izana that could have made him ask Mikey if he wanted to know?

“So, why did you actually do it?”

Izana’s hoarse voice startled the younger man, nearly making him jump out of his skin. Once he got his bearings, he responded with another question, confusion laced in his tone. “Do what?”

“The car incident. Like, really of all the girls, why her?”

Oh that. “She kept rubbing her thighs together any time I said something, and I thought she wanted relief.” He shrugged, but didn't look Izana in the eye. “She was asking for it-”

“You’re lying.”

Mikey goes silent. Izana must have finally figured out that he wasn’t being completely honest, he was way too observant when it came to others, especially his siblings. “I couldn’t stop myself,” he sighed out, finally facing the reality of the situation. “It was like everything she said or did seemed to offend me.”

“Is that so?”

“Well,” Mikey paused for a moment, thinking about that day. He was angry, but there was always something gnawing at the back of his mind whenever he saw you. The voices in his head made it difficult to think rationally and encouraged more impulsive actions, and that was truly the origin of the actions that happened in the end. “I also really just wanted to know how sleeping with her would feel.”

“Fool.”

“Excuse me?”

The white haired man doesn’t answer his question immediately, tossing the finished cigarette to the ground first, before pushing himself upright. “You heard me clearly. You’re a big fucking moron.” His voice is low and strained, fury lurking beneath.

Izana’s words struck a nerve, causing Mikey to stand up, dark eyes glaring right back at his brother. He thought Izana was on the same side as him in hating you, so why was he suddenly insulting him? “If I didn’t know any better, I would assume you’re blaming me and taking her side.”

“I AM blaming you.” He spits out, venomously towards Mikey now, eyes burning with anger. “Because of you thinking with your dick, you risked our relationship with our sister”

“So was I supposed to tell my dark impulses to go on vacation that day? It wasn’t entirely MY fault-”

“You drove her to the most secluded space in school. Do I look stupid enough to buy that excuse?”

Oh this was rich coming from Izana. “Are you insinuating I planned to rape her?” Mikey asked incredulously, not believing his ears. “I met her on the road and she asked for privacy. I didn’t intend to do anything, I’m not you.”

“You don’t get a moral high ground right now.” Izana spits back at Mikey, making the blond clench his jaw.  “You’re just as bad as me and you know it.”

“She can go to class and move the fuck on from whatever happened. If it were you in that fucking car, she’d be in a hospital-”

“And yet I went to clean up the mess you made without taking out my dick, you ungrateful little asshole.” Izana hissed back.

“Don’t call me little-”

“You know what I hate about you, Mikey? You’re so self-centered and self-absorbed that you don’t think about how your actions affect everyone else. You just want things to go your way and you can’t take no for an answer.” Izana laughs coldly. Mikey’s jaw clenched tightly, but stays silent as Izana continues to tease him. “Then again she’s the idiot who fell in love with you, so she better get used to that nasty habit of yours.”

‘What?’

Mikey feels like an ice bucket of water had been thrown on him. His mouth slowly hangs open, trying to process what he just heard right now.

“Don’t fuck with me-”

There’s no way that can be real. It had to be a lie or some kind of sick joke that Izana came up with, but he’s not laughing or smirking. Instead, he lights another cigarette, a resigned sigh escaping his lips. “Look” he said, blowing out a loud plume of smoke. “It was you who said we have to befriend that bitch. I’m guessing it’s because you want to get your dick wet and I don’t care. But if we’re going to pull it off and trap her, you’re going to do all the heavy lifting.”

“I’m not interested-”

“Don’t give me that bullshit Manjiro.” Mikey suddenly flinched at Izana’s harsh tone, the use of his government name sobering him up. “I know that you want to sleep with her. But you’re not going to just go in guns blazing. You’re going to convince Emma you like her by doing some grand gesture so that (name) feels like she can’t say no to you.”

Mikey stays silent, mulling over his brother’s suggestion. Izana can see right through him, even to his deepest desires and he knows it’s true. He’s attracted to your body and wants you.

“Okay fine.” He finally gives in. “But I don’t believe she loves me. She probably said that because you scared her.”

“Then you won’t be opposed to making a bet, right?”

Mikey smiles widely. He just wants to knock down Izana by a few pegs to prove him wrong.

“Fine.”

   “NGH, K-ken -more please-”

There is nothing more divine to Emma than what Draken was doing to her right now.

It was supposed to be a normal morning after a wild night. She had told Ken after round five, going to round six that she had a test tomorrow, one she absolutely could not miss and he had promised her no shenanigans.

Unfortunately, Ken is not one to keep those kind of promises.

She’s not sure why he decided to be touchy today; maybe it was the two weeks of no contact until you pushed her into accepting Draken’s proposal for a date night. Whatever it was, Draken was extra clingy this morning and he managed to convince her to let him eat her out for good luck.

Not like she’s complaining, for a change, she’d like to be the one on the receiving end.

Her legs were spread out wide on either side of Ken, his head buried in between her thighs, lips latched onto her clit, sending pleasurable tingles throughout her entire body. Yellow eyes cast down to Draken, her hand gripping his long blond hair, forcing him to stay put.

She let out soft moans at the gentleness of his tongue, the way his large fingers rubbed the sides of her waist to keep her grounded, occasionally rolling his tongue to her hole, before trailing back up to her clit. The girl felt her back lift from the bed, arching in a perfect circle, her heels digging into the bed. Ken hums into her pussy, sending vibrations onto her clit and a wave of electricity down her spine.

“Ken, fuck more-” she gasped, feeling his long tongue swipe up her clit, his mouth engulfed around her pussy. “- right there, k-keep g-going ah”

Emma felt like she was in cloud nine, so high with bliss underneath Draken’s touch. Whenever she was with him, all her problems disappeared for a moment and everything felt so, so good. She didn’t have to think about university or lecturers sucking up to her because of her affiliations. She didn’t have to think about Mikey and Izana bothering her.

She didn’t have to think about you.

You with your soft gaze, laughing gently at whatever joke she might have told you -it wasn’t that funny and yet Emma found herself smiling along with you. Your smile, so beautiful when genuine it reflects in your eyes. Your warm skin that she looks for any excuse to touch, to feel you. The way you looked at her shocked when she showed you the knowledge she retained from Taekwondo, underneath her sweaty body, your chest rising and falling.

‘Shit. I’m not supposed to be thinking about this now when Draken’s here. Not again’ She panicked, trying to focus on Draken’s ministrations again.

But her thoughts kept drifting back to you. Emma’s strong hands securing your thighs, pushing you down to her face until you're on top, her tongue working on your clit and hole while Draken eats her out as well. 

It was too late, the mere thought sent a wave of electricity to her clit, combined with Draken’s touch.

Her two favorite people, sandwiched between them. You’re more innocent, unskilled and Emma is willing to let both her and Draken pamper you, his large hands cupping your breast as he fucks into her while you grind on her face. Or you on the bed, Emma watching Draken fuck you stupid while she touches herself to the sight.

‘F-fuck it.’ She relishes in his touch and her imaginations, now switching to just you and her, your bodies pressed together as she rubs her clit on yours, gently kissing you. ‘I want her so bad shit. I-i want her so bad-’'

Emma cried out as she orgasmed hard, white filling her vision. Draken’s tongue worked her through the feeling, letting her grind on his face as she rode it out until she couldn’t, falling flat on her back on the pillows.

She tried to catch her breath the moment it was over, mulling over the feeling of post euphoric bliss. Draken crawled from between her legs and laid on top of her, lowering his lips to hers in an open mouthed kiss. She hummed, relishing her taste on his tongue, secretly wishing yours was on it too.

The man pulled away, resting his forehead on hers, just staying in silence with her as he usually did after a session. A pang of post nut guilt hit her for thinking about you like that. It felt so wrong and disrespectful, especially knowing how well you trusted her and how she cherishes you so much.

You’re her friend, she’s not supposed to imagine you in such vulnerable positions, not when you probably wouldn’t be comfortable with such thoughts and not when she is in bed with someone else.

Not when you might not have feelings beyond friendship.

She didn't realize her face was scrunched up in a frown until Draken rested his large palm to her face and pressed his finger between her brows, rubbing circles in the space. “Stop frowning, you’ll get wrinkles.” He joked, trying to lighten the mood. “At least that’s what you told me.”

She rolled her eyes in response, swatting his hand away as she shoved her guilt at the furthest corner of her mind. “It’s a stupid myth I told you so that you stop scaring my other friends that don’t know you. And there’s nothing wrong with wrinkles.”

He smiled mischievously, the kind that Emma was used to when he was about to push her buttons like always. “So what’s with all the beauty products?”

“Get off my case Ken.” she hissed at him, but there was no malicious intent behind her tone.

“Besides you and Mikey steal my very expensive products any time either of you come here. Buy your own shit.”

“You steal the fries off my plate, too.”

“The fries are 5 dollars, Ken, you’ll live.”

They fell into a comfortable silence, still laying on their bed to catch their breaths as Emma’s thoughts began to drift back to you. It has been some months since she started to see you in that way. She didn’t know how she developed these feelings nor could she pinpoint the day they started. It doesn’t surprise her though, you were just her type; soft-spoken, genuinely kind and so innocent, the kind of person she’d want to shield from the world forever. And in terms of looks, god you were gorgeous in her eyes, like a painting that the artist took his time to create.

It wasn’t like she didn’t try to bury her feelings for you. She figured you liked Mikey when she saw the stars in your eyes any time you looked at him and tried her best to set you both up, only for her plan to slap you in the face when Mikey treated you like dog shit. She switched gears to Izana but that even went so much worse that she had to step in.

Emma doesn’t understand why they hated you. You had done nothing but respected them, no matter how much they both hurt you. How could anyone hate you really? You were just so fragile, so quiet and you avoided trouble, so why do her brother’s keep insisting you’re no good for her?

“What’s on your mind?”

Draken’s quiet voice brought her back to reality, and she let out a quiet sigh, rolling her body to face him. “Just thinking about (name).” she mumbled, her eyes meeting his. “And how I royally fucked up by trying too hard to introduce her to Mikey and Izana.”

He hums in response, his brows furrowed together. “Mmh.” He shifts his body a bit to reach out his hand, stroking her face. “Mikey’s so cruel to the poor girl. If I were her, I’d hate his guts by now. Izana too.”

“I don’t think she’s capable of hating anyone.” Emma sighs softly for the umpteenth time, leaning into his touch. You’re not the type of person who can hate someone for treating you badly, no matter what. You’re so insistent on forgiveness, even though you’re in so much mental anguish that it baffles Emma. “The other day after my fight with Izana, she insisted I should talk to my brothers and forgive them, that she understands where they’re coming from. I think…” Emma pauses. “... it’s because she likes Mikey a lot, y'know. That’s why she’s so insistent on forgiving him.”

Draken’s expression darkens at the statement, his hand stopping mid-stroke. The once calm atmosphere basking in the warm afterglow of their lovemaking had turned ice cold, tension hanging in the air and it sort of scared Emma.

“Babe?”

Whatever it was that had crossed Draken’s mind quickly changed on hearing her frightened voice. He quickly shifted back to his warm gaze, stroking her hair again. “I’m sorry. I was just…” he trails off, a sigh escaping his lips as he recomposes himself. “There’s something I actually want to tell you-”

Draken’s words cut off as her alarm went off. Emma groaned outwardly, realizing that it was already time for her to start getting dressed for her important test. Reluctant, the blonde rolled off the bed nude and walked towards the bathroom.

“So sorry Ken.” She murmured, opening the door to the bathroom. “But I’ve got to go to class soon. Plus, I’m picking up (name) since she doesn’t have a ride there and I don’t want her to spend the little money she has on a bus fare. You can tell me later right?”

Emma doesn’t see the despair on Draken’s face. “Yeah. I’ll call you after class.”

“Thanks, you’re the best.”

  A LONG time ago, you dreamed of freedom.

You wanted to do something with your life other than the carefully crafted plans your parents had for you. You were told women belonged in the kitchen, that they should always be hairless, stand behind their husbands, and seen but not heard. That life felt like prison; cold and unloving, with nothing else to do. Your father wouldn’t even let your mother have female friends, because it would encourage gossiping and his wife should never be involved with gossip.

Despite your mother being on the more introverted side, you could still see the terrible loneliness in her eyes. She was like a bird in a cage, forced to sing for people when they have guests, serving them with a smile, but not too bright, otherwise your father would have an issue with her.

You didn’t want to become like your mother, so you ran right into another cage that you can’t see yourself getting out of.

You stare at yourself in the toilet mirror as the faucet runs, your heart dropping at how terrible and haggard you look right now. Not only did you have to deal with Izana’s subtle threat hanging over your head, but the test you had written the day after was also terrible, as if you’d forgotten everything you had studied for. You still have no luck in finding a job and those nightmares of Mikey continue to plague you.

Within a span of a few weeks, your life had been thrown into chaos. You miss the days where you were worried about getting the approval of Mikey and Izana, where you didn’t know the uglier sides of them and how far they would be willing to go to keep you quiet. 

“I shouldn’t have gone to that party. I should have stayed back and dealt with it.” Your voice is low, strained from all the crying you’ve done since you excused yourself from your hangout with Emma.

Emma.

You can’t even tell your best friend all your heartaches. Even ignoring what Izana said, just seeing her chat about her date with Draken, a smile plastered all over her face, you couldn’t bring yourself to tell her. You’re no longer confident that she would stand up for you, seeing how Izana was so convincing that you believed everything he said about the entire situation being your fault.

‘I need to face reality. I’m just someone she met a few months ago and those are her brothers she’s lived with for years. Why would she believe me over them?’

You were told that God doesn’t give you burdens He knows you cannot bear, but this one might be too heavy for you to carry.

Reaching for the faucet, you hastily splashed water on your face, trying to calm yourself down. Worse things have happened to you, worse things will happen to you and this is just one of them. You can bear the pain, the shame of letting that happen to you, so long as you never let it repeat itself again.

“I’ll stay away from them.” You say out loud, staring at your reflection in the mirror. It’s a promise; you know it’s the only way to get them off your back. If you make sure Emma spends less time with you and more with them, they’ll leave you alone. “I won’t be a bother or attend any of their parties or force myself into their friend groups. I’ll just be Emma's friend and that’s it.”

A sigh escapes your lips as you stare in the mirror again. Easier said than done.

You touch up your face a little, putting on your lip balm and redoing your hair. You force a smile onto your face, adjusting your blue dress and walk out of the bathroom with false confidence that could kill a sensible man. You held your head up high as you made your way back to the canteen; life gets harder on a daily basis, but at least you have a chance at making things easier for yourself.

‘Avoid the brothers, find a job, study harder.’ You repeat to yourself as you make your way back to the canteen where Emma was waiting for you. You still long for freedom to live a life you chose for yourself and you won’t let anyone ruin that for you. It’s merely a stumbling block that you’ll get over. In ten years time, you’ll forget about your terrible childhood, you’ll forget what Mikey did to you and how Izana made you feel like everything was all your fault.

Someday, you’ll live your dreams that seem so far away.

‘I’ll live in a house that I love, I’ll have a job and maybe a pet. I’ll have more friends and I’ll be ha-’

Your thoughts die the second they come in your line of sight.

Mikey sits on one side of Emma, making a pouty face while she laughs at him. Izana sits on the other side with his cheek resting on his hand, a humorous smirk plastered on his face. To everyone else, it looks like a family having a fun time, bonding and laughing together, but to you, it's a mocking gesture, reminding you of your place in Emma’s life and how much worth you have. That they can do what they like and not feel the slightest bit of guilt while you spend days crying and washing out the dirt off your body until your skin feels raw.

Mikey is the first person to notice you, dark eyes looking into yours and for a brief moment he stares blankly at your frozen figure standing a few feet away, before switching to a more sincere look.

“Oh uh, (name),” the way your name rolls off his tongue makes you anxious. It’s so calm and reserved, like you’re old friends that haven’t seen each other in ages. Like he wasn’t the same man that forced himself on you in his car. “We've been waiting for you. You spent a lot of time in the bathroom, are you still sick?”

If you weren’t feeling sick before, you do now. He sounds genuinely worried and if you were as clueless as Emma, you would have believed he was. The others turn their attention towards you and you feel even more nauseous when Izana gives you a worried frown, yet his eyes are full of mirth.

He finds this entire situation entertaining.

Everything inside you wants to scream at them, tell them to just stop whatever they are trying to do, but all you do is stand and stare at them blankly.

“You’re shaking. Come on, sit down, before you fall.” Emma teases, thinking that you’re shaking because you were nervous and not angry. “Geez guys, look at what being mean to her has done. She’s scared of you guys! You better hope she accepts your apology.”

An apology. They were here to give you a fake apology. After everything they had done to you, they had the audacity to come here to offer you an apology they didn’t even mean, just to get in Emma’s good graces again, and she bought every single bit of it.

“We’re really sorry for being mean to you.” Izana chimes in a remorseful tone, but he doesn’t mean it, not even the slightest bit. “I shouldn’t have called you a whore or made fun of you like that.”

They could have done this earlier. Right after the party. You wouldn’t have minded the fake apology as long as Emma was happy and you all could be cordial with each other. But they chose to ruin your life first, before going ahead to apologize, as if it would mean anything to you. As if it would undo the damage they have caused.

“I was a jerk.” Mikey says in a very apologetic tone that could have anyone else fooled. “All these months, I assumed you were coming between us and I let jealousy push me to do things I never meant to. Let’s put the past behind us and be friends.”

‘Be friends?’

Frustration bubbles up at the bottom of your chest, your heart pounding loudly against your chest as you look at the two men who made your life a living hell. All this time, you were planning on ignoring them and moving on with your life like nothing happened but they just won’t do the same, despite them hating you. Was this just to torment you until you left Emma permanently?

Why are they doing this to you?

Right now, you want to tell them no, you don’t want to ever be friends with them, you can forgive them but you want nothing to do with them. But everyone else in the cafeteria is staring, expectantly waiting for your answer. You know if you say anything now, your life will be ruined. No one in this cafeteria will be on your side, either out of fear of the Sano family connection or loyalty to them.

Yet again, you’ve lost.

Pushing down your anger and frustration to the bottom of your heart, you decide it is best to accept their apology publicly and keep your sentiments to yourself, a forced smile on your lips. “I-it’s alright. I know everything you’ve done is all for Emma.” It’s technically not a lie, but it isn’t true either. You take your seat right across the rest of the Sanos quietly, feeling everyone’s watchful gaze on you, picking up your drink in shaky hands. “I forgive you both. Let’s put the past behind us.”

Your heart drops further to your stomach when you realize what you had just said. You feel even worse when you realize you meant every word: that you forgive them, because you’re tired of being angry. You’re tired of holding them in your heart and making plans to avoid them. If you were going to keep secrets from Emma, then you’ll have to actually put it behind you or it would eat you alive.

Anyone else who knew your situation would have called you a moron for doing so, but when you look at Emma, who is smiling at her brothers, you know you did what you think is the right thing and you did it for the right reason.

Love.

Right.

YOU feel overwhelmed.

With your dwindling savings and the looming fear of failure concerning your tests hanging over your head, it feels like the world is throwing one curveball after another at you. Applying to jobs had been even more disappointing. Apparently, no one wanted to take in a college student who was fired from her last job, not especially after that scathing recommendation letter from your former employer that said very concerning things about you.

You know it won’t be long until you have nothing left and time is running out for you. At this rate if you don’t get any job, you might have to ask someone for a loan or financial aid. But you don’t want it to get to that.

‘I still have some time before then. I can get a new job, no matter what it is.’

With no classes for the rest of the day, you decide to keep searching for jobs with a renewed vigor. pulling yourself up and googling jobs with vacancies, writing applications and reviewing them before sending it to multiple places. You’re sure if you send a hundred applications, one will definitely call you back. You kept sending application after application until you lost count of how much you’ve put out. Your back aches from being hunched over to type on your phone, your eyes are blurry from staring at the screen for so long and your mouth feels dry but you don’t stop sending mails.

Immersed in your application, you don’t realize that someone is practically pounding on the door of your room until the door flies open, Emma barging in, guns blazing with a terrified look on her face. You exit out of your email app and close your tabs quickly just as she comes in, screaming your name with a shaky voice.

“(Name)? (Name)!”

You rush towards her, panicking that something terrible might have happened to her. Grabbing her by her shoulders, you hold her in place, trying to calm her down. “I’m here, I’m here. Are you okay? Did something happen? Are you hurt?”

For a few seconds, it’s as if Emma can’t register that it’s you holding her, struggling in your grasp until she looks at your face. Her eyes lit up in recognition, a sigh of relief escaping her lips only for her relieved face to turn furious, like she’s angry at you.

Scratch that, she IS angry at you.

“For god’s sake (name) don’t scare me like that!” You look at your best friend, clearly puzzled by her answer to your question as you release her shoulders. As if reading your mind, Emma adds; “I’ve been knocking on your door for the past ten minutes and when you didn’t answer, I called you again for five minutes but it said your line was busy! So I panicked. I thought something had happened to you.”

‘Whoops’

 You put your phone on do not disturb because you didn’t want any distractions while you were applying for jobs. You also never told anyone that you had lost your old job and you were looking for a new one, especially not Emma. Knowing her, if she knew you were fired, she’d try to assist you with money despite your protests. You don’t want to use her kindness for your own benefit, especially in this friendship. Even if you agreed to borrow money from her, she would never let you pay it back.

You’re the kind of person to pull your own weight, not to cast the burden onto someone else. You don’t want her to feel obligated to help you.

“I’m really sorry for scaring you. I put my phone on dnd because I was busy-”

“You never, EVER put your phone on DnD, even when you’re doing your homework.”

Now she sounds suspicious, the last thing you want. Knowing yourself, you find it hard to lie and Emma can be persuasive in figuring out secrets, like how she had convinced you to tell her you had a crush on her brother when you first met her.

You really don’t want her to find out this secret.

It’s as if for the first time someone hears your prayers for once because Emma drops this issue instantly. “You know what? That doesn’t matter.” She brushed your hands off her shoulders, letting them fall to your side as she walked away. “If your phone was on dnd, it means you didn’t get my message. No wonder you’re not dressed up.”

‘Message?’

For the third time today, your face scrunches up in confusion as Emma walks up to your wardrobe and starts digging through it. “What message?” You ask, tentatively. You hope it doesn’t have anything to do with either of her brothers - two people you’ve been avoiding for a while now. Just because you’ve given them grace doesn’t mean you want to be associated with them. It’s hard to not feel some form of resentment for what they did to you.

Without looking up from her task, she says cheerily, “Mikey and Izana said they want to take us out shopping today!”

Your heart drops at the statement. Just as you feared. Maybe things will never go your way and you just have to accept life as it is.

“Are you sure about that?” The last thing you wanted was to arrive at a place, only to find out your presence is unwanted, again.

“It’s not going to be like the last party, I swear.” It’s as if Emma can read your thoughts, because she dismisses the idea immediately. “Mikey practically begged me to drag you out- Oh this looks cute, come here (name).”

Despite being unnerved, you make your way towards Emma in strides until you’re besides her. You stand there, perplexed that of all the people, Manjiro Sano, who you’re sure despises you, asked for you to come with them. ‘Or maybe it wasn’t like that.’ You try to rationalize the whole situation. ‘Emma might have asked if I could come and he told her to go ahead. Maybe Izana wasn’t in the mood to protest it either, since he seems okay with my presence. Or he wants to test me to see if I’d say a peep.’

“I can hardly believe Manjiro would want me there.” You decide to voice out your doubts as Emma puts a couple of outfits on your body to see what matched. “Or that Izana wouldn’t protest my presence there. Just because they apologized doesn’t mean they automatically like m-”

“This dress looks so pretty on you. You’re totally wearing this.” Emma cuts you off, putting a white fitted dress with slight ruffles at the end, as if she wasn’t even listening to you. You’re about to voice your concerns again when she adds. “(name), my brothers never ever apologize to anybody. Mikey’s selfish and immature when it comes to taking accountability, even when he’s caught red handed and Izana is too prideful to ever admit he’s wrong. But they did that for you. Do you know how much of a big deal that is?”

“You had to give them the silent treatment for them to do it-”

“They still wouldn’t have apologized, they would have threatened to hurt you or put you in danger, as long as it meant you were gone and they didn’t have to say sorry. Sometimes, my brother’s pride is much more important than I am to them.” You feel a chill run down your spine when you register that Emma’s silence could have meant your disappearance. Suddenly, the gun in Izana’s hands last time wasn’t just a threat, it was a promise and it made sense now when he called you a fool for trusting him. “But they laid down that pride, for you. You. Don’t you understand?”

“I don’t-”

“I think my brothers are in love with you.”

“HUH!”

‘Excuse me?’

Your mouth fell open in shock, trying to process what you just heard. Their apology, the fake acting, everything worked well; too well in fact that Emma was suddenly jumping into the wildest conclusions, conclusions that not even in your wildest imaginations you could jump to. Maybe if you were still naïve, you would have been elated at the idea of the two brothers liking you in any capacity. If Mikey hadn’t sexually assaulted you and if Izana hadn’t pointed a loaded gun at your head, you would have believed that lie hook, line and sinker.

But you know the truth. Neither of the brothers are capable of loving you.

You don’t say anything to counter Emma or change her mind. Maybe it’s best she thinks they’re in love with you and live in her headspace that her plan of endearing you to her brothers worked. It’ll keep her less suspicious. “Well, don’t be shocked babe, it’s not just them, even the rest of the executives have a crush on you. You’re a work of art painted by god himself and you have the personality of a fucking saint, who wouldn’t love you?” She giggled, pushing the dress into your chest. “Now go shower and put this on. I’ll do your hair and makeup when you come out. I’ll tell the boys we’re going to be late.”

‘Yeah. Who wouldn’t love me?’

You force a smile as you disappear into the bathroom.

    IZANA knows you’re beautiful.

It’s not something that could be denied. Anyone could insult you about not having money or being a prude, but no one could ever call you ugly and mean it. You’ve got that sort of grace that many girls don’t have, not just the looks, but the purity of your soul and a heart of gold. Your innocence is like a white cloth, with no blemishes, no stains, because of your hard upbringing and strong morals.

To him, you would be fun to ruin.

He’s not the only one that can’t take his eyes off you. Mikey’s more obvious with his staring, watching your every move as you walked towards them alongside Emma. Dressed in a white short dress with ruffles at the bottom and a blue lace trim, your makeup is rather cutesy, doll-like even, making you look much more innocent than you usually do. Your demeanour today is not so different, donning your usual shy appearance, eyes cast down to your feet as opposed to Emma’s bright, preppy aura, her chin up and eyes alight.

Like night and day. You two couldn’t be any more different.

Mikey’s the first to react, ever the affectionate brother, pulling Emma into a tight hug the second she stepped in his vicinity.

“Emmaaaa”

Aware of his displeasure about them being two hours late, she hugged him back with equal intensity, rubbing his back to soothe him until he calmed down. Izana notices you looking at their interaction with a longing gaze in your eyes, and at first, he wonders if you want to hug Mikey too. It wouldn’t have surprised him, given how desperate you are for any form of affection, but then he remembers you too once had a family and you had elder brothers.

‘I wonder if she misses them.’

He’s cut off by his thoughts when Emma launches herself at him. He catches her in time, hugging her tight and patting her hair, Mikey also joining in the hug too, dorayaki always switches on his more affectionate side. You can only stand there awkwardly with your hands by your side, looking away from the three siblings as if you’re intruding in a private moment. Izana decides to be merciful enough to stop taunting you with their love.

“I think we’re making your friend jealous.” His purple eyes meet yours as he makes the statement. Your eyes widened as the three siblings separated, stammering out shaky excuses, clearly embarrassed that you were caught staring. “N-no, I don’t mean to- I-i mean I-i’m not… you can keep hugging I don’t mind… I’ll just…”

There it is again. That shyness as you looked down at your feet, trying to hide your flustered gaze away from them. Izana thinks that perhaps his favourite trait of yours is the ability to get so worked up easily, it makes it so fun to tease you.

“Aww, (name), do you want a hug too?” Emma eggs on, making you even more flustered. Oh so you also swing that way, interesting. “You must be feeling left out-”

“Emma!”

Your outburst only makes the three siblings laugh at you for a full minute before dropping the whole thing altogether. Besides, they were in public, any further teasing would have turned into something more charged.

He wonders what would happen if you were alone with either of them.

“Okay, that’s enough.” Emma says, walking back to you and grabbing your arm, pulling you alongside her. “Come on, we came out too late and all the stores are gonna close within four hours. Let’s go!”

Izana follows behind Mikey, until he catches up with him. He realizes his brother is silent, which was odd since he was so chatty and affectionate just minutes before. He’s about to ask what’s wrong when he follows Mikey’s gaze to your backside, lust practically oozing from how he was undressing you with his eyes.

Izana gets it. Your dress makes your body look good and your ass looks amazing in it; if he had any less control, he would have pounced on you in the middle of the mall.

But for someone who said he doesn’t want you at first, Mikey looks like he wants to drag you into a corner and fuck you like a slut right now. Sometimes, he wonders why Mikey chooses to lie and deny himself of things he wants instead of asking his dear big brother for help.

The white haired male leans closer to Mikey, his voice low enough for only the both of them to hear. “Don’t forget our bet.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

    YOU’RE not buying anything.

It’s a blow to Mikey’s pride that you’re just standing there, not touching anything.

He thought you’d jump at the opportunity to take his money and run wild with it, so that he’ll call Izana’s bluff about you loving him. For someone as poor as you, free money is like a dream come true. He knows your type of woman; pretty, nothing up in your head apart from books and the desire to want something more. He’s dated girls below and at his financial ladder, and most of the times, the poor girls love to drain him dry of his cash- not like that would ever happen, what’s a few million dollars gonna do to his wealth

It makes him feel less guilty when he eventually takes his own payment in kind, letting out his dark impulses when he has desires to be fulfilled. He drains them of all the love and adoration they can give to him until there’s nothing left for him to lord over.

Mikey watches you from the corner of his eye, the way you take note of each outfit before just nodding and moving to the next one. It annoys him. ‘Do you think you’re too good for an expensive designer brand (name)?’

Eventually, he gets up from his chair, excusing himself from one of Emma’s fitting sessions to meet up with you. He doesn’t miss the way your hand shakes nervously as you hide it behind your back, giving him a smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes.

“Oh hey Mik- Manjiro. Do you need anything?”

“Don’t you like anything in this store?”

“W-what? Of course I do, the clothes here are pretty-”

“But you aren’t buying anything.”

It’s your turn to be confused, looking at Manjiro like he had two heads. What could possibly be going on in that head of yours that made his statement so surprising? “If you don’t like anything in this store, I could take you to another place while Emma and Izana stay here. We can meet up with them later.”

You look at him for a few seconds, blinking once, then twice before smiling at him, a bit more honest this time and to his dismay he feels something hot burning in his chest and spreading to his face. “Oh, that’s nice of you,” your words come out in a drawl, eyes half-lidded as you thumb one of the clothes. “But the truth is, everything in this mall is much too overpriced, so I can’t really afford anything, but it’s how life is. I’ve worked in a store like this before, I can tell you that I buy similar clothes in the thrift store for less and save money for my next year tuition while looking good. Quality isn’t too different either and I’m happy.”

For the first time, Mikey really takes a good look at your face, because he’s sure you’re not the same person; talking about responsibility and budgeting instead of scuffing at your feet like you usually do.

He understands why Izana called him a self-centered fool that never noticed anything that didn’t involve himself. The world has given you so much pain and suffering and yet, you work around it to just survive and move on, not once blaming him for anything.

He hopes for your sake, Izana isn’t right for saying he’s in love with you.

“Manjiro?”

There’s a softness to your gaze when you look at him, as opposed to other girls who stare at him like he holds heaven and the earth in his hands.

It’s the same way his mother used to look at him.

He quickly pushed that thought aside, nearly appalled he compared you to his mother. If he didn’t know better, he’d think you love him unconditionally. But that’s not possible. No one loves a stranger unconditionally, there has to be something you want from him.

But that’s fine, you’ll help each other plenty.

“(Name), you don’t know why I told Emma to bring you here?”

“You wanted me here?”

“I promised you I was going to take you out shopping that day in the car.”

You wince visibly when he mentions it, and it annoys him, you’re acting like he did something horrible like rape you. Honestly, if you’re going to keep acting like this, maybe he should just do it, then you’ll have a reason to be terrified of him. “I’m trying my best to forget that day ever happened and put it behind me. You already apologized to me and I forgave you. You don’t have to do anything to make up for it-”

‘All this niceness is making me sick to my stomach. I need to shut her up fast.’

Before you could finish speaking, Mikey called one of the saleswomen around, telling them to come quickly.

“What are you-”

“Help her pick whatever she wants. I’ll pay for it.”

“Yes sir. Follow me.”

You look mortified, about to open your mouth to protest, only to be dragged away by the saleswoman before you could voice your grievances.

From the corner of the room, Mikey can feel Izana watching you both, an amused smirk etched onto his lips and Emma practically swooning over how romantic it was that Mikey wants to spend it on you.

‘Emma buys it. Perhaps I should listen to Izana more often.’

  YOU hate being the center of attention. If you knew that this kind of thing was going to happen, you would have doubled down on not coming with Emma.

“Let me buy your food (name)-”

“No little brother, you’ve spent enough, I can take care of it-”

“I’m not complaining about spending money now am I?”

“Focus on getting your kiddie meals, let a man take care of the bills.”

You hate this so much. You’ve heard of the Sano brothers competing against each other for the pettiest of reasons, but you never expected to be one of them. Now, you can’t even eat in peace after spending hours on your feet trying on clothes.

You’ve heard whispers of people calling you a gold digger. The store clerks, other patrons, anyone who happened to see you buy all those things have said horrible things about you. Making assumptions that you must be sleeping with the Sano brothers - their newest attraction and predicting your downfall soon enough because you must have seduced them.

Here in this food court, everyone is giving you a dirty look for not only holding the line, but because of their preconceived notion; you’re not worth the hold up.

And it’s giving Emma even worse ideas, really fueling the theory that they’re “in love” with you. But you know the truth. It’s like when your brothers would fight amongst each other to get a pretty girl, only to use and dump her because she’s just a prize.

Mikey and Izana don’t like you, they’re trying to outdo each other.

“Manjiro, Izana”

Their bickering stops the moment they hear you calling them. They slowly turn their attention towards you, their gazes burning holes into you for interrupting their conversation. You’re careful with your next words, it’s easier to tolerate them treating you like a pinup doll than them hating you and you don’t want to make them angry either, knowing fully well they’ll hurt you the second Emma isn’t looking at them. “I’m so sorry for causing all this commotion and keeping you two from eating. How about you both get something to eat first? I haven’t made up my mind yet, maybe we can get something to go when you’re done.”

You hold your breath, praying to God that they take this as you being an idiot for putting them first and just do as you asked. Luckily for you, your relief was immediate as they suddenly relaxed, mumbling “yeah, you’re right.” And “I’m actually hungry” before doing as you said. A sigh of relief crosses your lips as they finally get their separate orders and make their way back to the private booth they ordered, guards standing outside waiting for you three to be back.

Emma’s eyes lit up in amusement as you came in and sat next to her, a smug smirk tugging on her lips, as if telling you ‘they’re so head over heels in love with you.’ “Seems like you didn’t get any food, (name)” her tone is teasing. You know she has good intentions, but that’s the last thing you want to hear after the embarrassing ordeal you just went through right now. “Couldn’t decide between spicy or sweet? You can just pick both.”

You know exactly what she’s insinuating, but honestly, you’re damned if you do and damned if you don’t. You feel like what they’re doing is backing you into a corner, it’s going to be harder to believe that both of them hurt you, especially with everything that they’ve done. It’s not like you can say no because they’ll get angry and hurt you again for insulting their pride. And if you do keep their gifts, they’re not above using it to make you do things you don’t want to.

‘Just look on the bright side.’ You try to think positively. ‘They might not go to the extreme since Emma is watching them closely-’

“THIS DOESN’T HAVE A FLAG ON IT. I’M NOT EATING IT.”

Of course. Things can never go so smoothly whenever you find yourself in the company of the Sano brothers.

“Mikey not this again. Ken is not here to put a flag for you and I’m not doing that for you either.” Emma sighs in annoyance. “You’re twenty-four, not fourteen, eat your damn food.”

“I’m not eating this shit.”

You thought it was a rumor that Mikey has an obsession with flags and wouldn’t eat without it, but this being a fact was … shocking. You watch as the man pouts, like he’s not the feared president of Toman’s fraternity but a spoiled kid; it’s somehow cute, the way he looks distraught over his food. ‘Reminds me of my younger cousin who wouldn’t eat unless someone fed him. Specifically me. Moments like this make Mikey seem so human.’

“Come onnn” Emma groans. “Mikey eat! You said you won’t do this again-”

“No”

Emma’s at her wit ends at this point and turns to Izana, but quickly dismisses the idea of asking him for help, probably because it would cause another fight, turning to you instead. “(Name), please convince him to eat something” Emma pleaded. “Trust me, you don’t want to be around a starving Mikey, he can be very snippy.”

You want to reject the idea, but with Emma’s pleading gaze and your inability to say no, you decide to try. You’ve had experiences with little kids who dig into their heels, refusing to do anything, and compromise is always the answer. You think that would work on Mikey too. “Manjiro, we don’t have a flag here or anything, what can we do to help you eat?”

He’s silent, still pouting as he thinks of your proposition for a few minutes until his eyes light up, a devious smirk slowly crawling onto his lips as he stares at you.

“Sit on my lap and feed me.”

Emma nearly chokes on her food, coughing loudly as she drinks water in an attempt to catch her breath. Izana only chuckles at Mikey’s bizarre but not surprising request, continuing to enjoy his now premium entertainment. You think it’s a joke, asking him to be more serious until Mikey repeats his request with a serious expression on his face. “Sit on my lap and feed me or I won’t eat this shit. I’ll even throw it away.”

‘This cannot be happening’

“Manjiro we’re in publi-” You’re cut off by Emma kicking you hard under the table, her eyes sharp enough to cut through glass. Stifling a cry of pain, you turn to her, your voice in a low whisper. “This is too much. What if someone see us-”

“And so what? This is your chance to cozy up with Mikey. He’s willingly let you touch him which means he definitely likes you. You have to stop being shy about your own affection.” She hissed back. You want to tell her that this has nothing to do with being shy with your affection, but has everything to do with Mikey’s previous actions whenever you got too close to him. “And there’s nothing dirty or wrong about feeding him and sitting on his lap. It’s just an innocent thing.”

“B-but-”

“(Name) just please. It’s a private booth, no one’s gonna look inside. Mikey has problems with eating, just this once, please please-”

Emma’s begging eventually gets to your soft heart and you cave in, pushing yourself up from your end of the booth and crossing over to his side. Mikey’s smile only gets bigger as you lower yourself onto his knees so that he doesn’t get the wrong idea, ignoring the way your legs were shaking from how nervous you were. You reach for the spoon to start, only for two strong hands to yank you forward until your ass sat comfortably on his thighs, earning a gasp from you.

“There, that’s better.” He murmured. “You’re much more comfortable like this.”

You’re not, but you know he doesn’t care. It’s his and Izana’s goal to cross as many of your boundaries as they can, just to see how much they’ll get away with.

‘Just do what you’re told. It’ll be over before you know it.’

Swallowing the utter embarrassment and nervousness you felt right now, you picked up a spoonful of food and angled it to his lips, a smile on yours to hide your true emotions.

“Open wide.”

Surprisingly, Mikey’s receptive to your feeding, reducing the embarrassment by at least fifty percent. You take the job as seriously as you can, easing him into opening his mouth and encouraging him to chew and swallow like you would your cousin and he does as he’s told without much of a fuss, his eyes glazed over in bliss, despite Izana constantly looking like he wants to laugh and Emma staring at the two of you like a couple out of a romance story, her eyes almost in hearts.

With more eager bites Mikey takes, you get more comfortable on his lap -apart from the hard thing poking your behind, most likely his keys-, your hand hovering under his spoon to avoid his food from spilling on his clothes. Emma may have a point, there was nothing wrong with feeding him, as long as he eventually ate something and perhaps he was just too lazy to do it on his own.

Unlike the other encounters, it doesn’t feel dirty or wrong, Mikey doesn’t creep a hand underneath your dress or touch your thighs, despite the booth being private enough and the table large enough to cover him if he attempts to do so. Izana doesn’t make lewd jokes about it either, apart from muttering ‘pervert’ and ‘spoiled brat’ to Mikey’s hearing -which makes him pout briefly- and Emma thinks it’s innocent enough to take videos of you two being cute together, sending it to their other friends.

It was weird, but seeing him wait on you patiently instead of yelling at you was nice. It’s been a while since you took care of anyone and he looked so innocent with his puffed up cheeks and bright eyes, waiting on you to feed him.

This was definitely the sweetheart, cheeky Mikey everyone talked about whenever he was brought up in a conversation of attractive men. The one you fantasized about when imagining how nice he’d be to you as opposed to his cold demeanour.

But still, you know it’s not permanent. It doesn’t make him any less cruel, just more human. You know it’s an act, but it still makes you sad regardless.

You wished he was kind to you all the time.

Emma’s phone pings with a new message in the middle of videoing you both, brows furrowing as she reads the text carefully. You all notice the sudden change of mood, from her usual chirpy self to a troubled expression.

“I totally forgot, I promised Yuzuha to help with her and Mitsuya’s project.” she hurriedly began picking up her things. “I’ve gotta go. You guys better drop (name) at her place safely.”

‘No! Don’t leave without me’

You’re about to open your mouth and tell her you want to leave with her, but you feel Mikey’s hand on your waist gripping you tightly, the warning loud and clear: keep your mouth shut. 

“Sure Em. We’ll get her home safely. Promise” Izana speaks for you, his eyes glimmering with mischief. Reassured, she pecks both her brothers’ on the cheeks before giving you a not so subtle wink, encouraging you to ‘have fun’ with her brothers.

You wish she was not so trusting of her big brothers.

  YOU have a bad habit of denying the ending of a book, until you reach there and realize there’s nothing you could do to save the protagonist.

You remember crying after reading “Lolita” for the first time. Emma had warned you beforehand that justice is never served at the end of the story and yet while reading it, you half-expected - no hoped for- someone to jump in and save the little girl. When you read Macbeth, you hoped he’d return to his senses before killing the king that was his good friend. When reading Hamlet, you hoped he would tell Ophelia he was sorry for killing her father, that he’d tell her he loved her before she died. You hoped Juliet would wake up before Romeo drank the poison, stopping him from killing himself, despite reading all these stories over and over again.

But just like your life, these stories were tragedies and the characters were doomed by the narrative.

You knew Emma had unintentionally sealed your fate when she left you in the care of her brothers to meet up with Yuzuha and you tried rationalizing every action that led you up to this point while in the car with the brothers heading off to your dorm. Could you have avoided hanging out with Emma today? Maybe not. She would have noticed you shying away from her brothers and become suspicious. Rejecting any offer given to you by the Sanos could mean insulting them.

Mikey is someone who hates hearing ‘no’.

‘There’s no point in thinking about the what ifs’ you tell yourself solemnly. ‘Every choice I could have made would have brought me back to them, regardless.’

The car revs to a stop at your dorm, breaking you out of your thoughts. “Thank you very much for everything.” You don’t look up from your lap, too scared to face them now that you’re alone. “I’m grateful for all the things you bought me.”

“You probably need help in carrying all of that, don’t you?” Mikey doesn’t acknowledge your thanks, but you don’t really expect him to. “I’ll help. Izana, you can wait, right?”

“I’m giving you an hour.”

You want to reject his help, but Izana’s the one driving and you’re at the backseat with your properties. You saw him when he put on the child lock earlier on, so you know you couldn’t just open the door and make a run for it.

You wait patiently for Mikey to come out of the passenger’s seat, opening the door and taking out the larger clothes and shoes, leaving you with only the little things like smaller clothes and the few jewelry you bought.

Correction, Mikey bought for you.

You go ahead of him, being the one who knows your room and the two of you walk in silence. Tension lies thick between the two of you as you make your way up the stairs, past the other rooms until you reach the end of the hallway. Like a predator, he watches you carefully as you turn the locks with trembling hands, opening it completely and entering inside. He doesn’t wait for an invitation, letting himself inside the room and kicking the door shut behind him.

Your eyes try to look anywhere but him as you open your wardrobe and arrange your new things. From the corner of your eye, you watch him drop your shopping bags beside your feet and move towards your bedside table. As you bend to pick up the rest of the clothes to neatly fold into squares while you figure out what to do with it, you spot him thumbing your Rosary beads between his fingers, as if he’s deep in thought.

“Seen this with Hakkai before.” He murmurs just enough for you to hear. You almost forgot he and Hakkai know each other, and with your bitter history with the Shibas, you assume that they probably have something to do with Mikey’s notion about you. “What do you use it for?”

“Prayers” You answer. “For protection, too.”

He laughs in response; it’s dark, tinged with mockery as opposed to his earlier laughter with his family, making your rate speed up until you can hear it thrumming in your ears. You know why he’s laughing and if you didn’t find yourself in this kind of predicament with him, you would have found it funny too.

“A lot of good it has done in protecting you.”

You don’t say anything in response, opting to stay quiet so that you don’t argue or agree with him. He has a point, a lot good it has done in protecting you when you wore it that day in Mikey’s car. Or when Izana broke into your room to harrass you. Or when you press it close to your chest in the night, hoping to keep your nightmares away. At this point, you’re sure your sins are too great for God to care about you anymore or hear your prayers.

After all, He couldn’t bear to look at his own son when the sins he was dying for was much too piled up on him, how much more you?

Mikey doesn’t say anything more, dropping the beads back before focusing his attention elsewhere. You continue with your tasks silently, slowly folding your new clothes in squares attempting to make space for them and wasting his time, hoping one hour would come by quickly so that he would leave.

‘I just need one hour to pass-’

“Are you in love with me (name)?”

You freeze.

The answer should be simple, shouldn’t it? After all he’s done to you, every humiliating ordeal he put you through the entire time you’ve known him, you should loathe his very presence. Resentment always lurks beneath your skin whenever you see him with another girl, knowing fully well he could get whoever he wants, he can sleep with them whenever he pleases and yet he chose to not only hurt you, but go on with his own life while yours falls apart.

Yet, you can’t say it.

Your breath hitches in your throat when you hear his footsteps inch closer, his eyes burning holes on your back. You shudder when you feel his hand on your bicep, roughly turning you around to face him. Dark eyes scan your features, before meeting your own, staring into them as the silence stretches on.

“Oh” he said, still maintaining his grip on you. Your silence is a resounding answer to his question and now all you feel is shame. For being romantically attracted to him. For being so weak that you couldn’t hate him or push him off you. You want to crawl up in yourself and hide away from him, so that he can’t see how pathetic and vulnerable you are anymore.

“You look ashamed (name). Is it because you want to resent me, but you can’t? Or because you know I don’t love you?” His free hand cups your face, cleaning the tear drop that had rolled down your cheeks, a gesture so gentle and yet, at the same time so cruel when you couple it with the fact that his fingers are digging into your arm painfully. “It’s okay. You don’t need to cry.”

“M-manjiro, please go hom-”

You hate yourself. You hate how you’re melting into his touch like you’re ice in his warm hands. You should be pushing him away and telling him to go to hell, to stop touching you. Instead, you let him drag you away from the wardrobe towards your bed, the inevitable. Heart thudding against your chest, body trembling with tears streaming down your face, you brace yourself to be shoved on the bed roughly and taken advantage off by force, your pleas of mercy and forgiveness ignored.

Only for him to let go of you.

You stand there, confused as he sits on the bed comfortably, his legs slightly spread. His face looked so calm and impassive, like this was his room, his space and you were the one out of place. “Come sit here, (name)” He points at his legs. You don’t move, frozen on your spot as the realization dawns on you about Mikey’s plan.

He wants you to be a willing participant.

You take a step back, ready to run away from here as fast as possible, but Mikey only tuts in disappointment. “Would you rather I chase you down and rape you instead?” The way he says it so casually, like he didn’t just threaten you sends chills down your spine. “You know fully well you can’t outrun me.”

You swallow hard, weighing your choices as you stare at him. Running away right now would give you a chance to get away from him, but he could still catch up to you if he wants to. Even if you escape him, Izana is downstairs and would willingly hunt you for sport. You thought of hiding in one of your dormmate’s room, but no girl here likes you enough to incur Toman’s wrath.

‘I’m finished.’

Your feet move on their own towards Mikey and his hands maneuver your body until you’re straddling him, your legs on either side of his waist, knees digging into the mattress, your crotch hovering over his. You wait for him to attack you with his touches or kisses, for him to take what he wants and leave you a broken woman, but he doesn’t move an inch, only opting to speak, his breath tickling your face.

“Show me how much you love me.”

“What?” You whisper, confused. What does he mean by that? “I don’t understand-”

“You said you love me, so show me.” He repeats again. “Pleasure me.”

Pleasure him? You don’t know how to do anything. Apart from kissing someone, which you only learned when you stayed with the Shiba’s, you were so sheltered that you don’t know what you’re supposed to do. Even when you asked your mother about how to please your husband, she only told you that your job is to lie down and let the man do as he pleases. Emma had made a significant effort in trying to show you a demonstration, but ultimately you chickened out because you couldn’t risk watching something as filthy as pornography.

‘He’s going to get angry at me.’ You start to panic. ‘I don’t know what I’m supposed to do. Oh God, he’ll hurt me for sure. He’ll force himself on me again-’

“I-i don’t know what to do… I’ve never done this before- I’m sorry, I’m sorry- please don’t hurt me.”

You don’t realize that you’re shaking once again, until you feel his hands slipping onto your waist, gripping it tight to steady you. “Stop shaking. This is why I don’t like virgins.” Mikey snapped. If you didn’t feel embarrassed before, you feel utterly humiliated. Not only were you forced into a situation you didn’t want to be in, you couldn’t even do anything to get yourself out of it.

You gasp quietly as he pushes your hips down to his crotch, pressing your clothed cunt against his hard cock. Your head falls onto his shoulder as his hands grab your ass from under your dress, rocking you against him, your dress lifting up higher and higher until it’s past your thighs.

His hands are hot against the fat of your ass, his warm breathy groans tickling down your neck as he pleasures himself with your body. The friction feels good, much to your horror, so good that you nearly forget what kind of predicament you found yourself in, feeling the ridge of his dick touch your clit repeatedly, jolts of pleasure running down your body, a damp patch growing on your panties. At the back of your mind, you know you don’t want this, but the way he controls your hips to his rhythm, the soft grunts he lets out of his lips and the way his breath tickles your skin, has you lowering your inhibitions bit by bit, holding onto his shoulders to attempt to anchor yourself down.

‘I-i’m not… I shouldn’t feel good doing this-’

A whine nearly escapes your lips as he abruptly stops his grinding, the small pleasure you felt suddenly ripped away from you. You quickly sit straight up, about to ask him what was going on, only for him to say. “You know what to do now, so do it.”

Oh. He was teaching you how to get him off. Of course, you must have forgotten that this was all supposed to be for his pleasure, not yours.

He lets go of your bottom, resting his elbows on the bed, dark eyes watching you, waiting for you to go ahead. You balance yourself, warping your hands around his neck and pressing your hips downwards, trying to mimic his previous movements. Your hip movements are awkward, slow, out of rhythm, and you start to panic. With his dark eyes trained on you, nervousness starts to creep in, your body trembling once again, making your movements even more unpleasant.

You peek at Mikey from your lashes, your heart dropping down to your stomach as you see the increasing frustration and annoyance written all over his face. It makes you try harder, try to arch your back, try to grind harder onto him but it doesn’t earn a sound from him.

‘I’m trying. I’m trying. God knows I’m trying but I can’t do it right I can’t-’

Mikey’s patience with your ‘incompetence’ runs thin, and before you know what was happening, your back hits the hard mattress, his body hovering above you. Panic rises in your chest when you see his darkened gaze, fury, lust and disgust all mixed into his eyes as he pinned you down with one hand. “Can’t do one thing right. You claim to love me but you can’t even make me happy. I did all that for you and yet you can’t do what I want-”

You struggle against his grasp when he grabs the front of your white dress- your favourite dress and suddenly rips it off your body and into shreds, the rope burns leaving marks on your body, your panties following suit. You let out a guttural scream, fear creeping in your veins when you realize just how far gone Mikey was.

“STOP IT! STOP IT MIKEY! MIKEY PLEASE DON’T DO THIS TO ME- I’M SORRY, I’LL LOVE YOU HARDER, JUST DON’T DO THIS TO ME-”

He ignores your screams, discarding the scraps of clothes and using his free hand to undo his belt, his expression blank, uncaring. You kick against his feet, screaming at him to stop but it falls on deaf ears as he drags out his penis, lowering his hips closer to yours. You started to weep, as he gathered what’s left of your slick.

“If you do this to me, I’ll never forgive you.” You weep, tears rolling down your cheeks. He doesn’t react, gathering spit in his mouth and spitting on your uncovered woman hood, before rubbing his cock on it again. “I’ll hate you for the rest of my life, I’ll haunt you for the rest of your life.” He doesn’t say anything, his cockhead pushing through your hole bit by bit until you hiss out.

“I’ll kill myself.”

He paused his movements, his eyes growing wide as you utter those words, but you’re too exhausted to care. “I’ll kill myself if you take the only thing I have left. I know you don’t care because you already have blood on your hands, what’s my life compared to others? but I will kill myself-”

“You can’t be serious-”

You curse him out, the all bitterness and frustration of life laced in your voice. “You made everyone hate me. I lost my job, failed my test and because I was haunted by what you did to me in that car to the point I couldn’t sleep. When you apologized, I forgave you. I forgave you because loving you was all that I had left and I hoped that you’ll change. I don’t have money, I don’t have a family, I don’t have friends, I have NOTHING else to live for. If you take the one thing I have left, I will kill myself!"

It’s as if something in Mikey’s brain clicked. He pulls out his tip from you before he could go any further, tucking his manhood back into his trousers. Through tear streaked eyes, you could see an unfamiliar look in his visage, something you thought he would never feel for anyone but himself.

Guilt.

He lets you go, climbing off your body and standing upright, his hand tousling his long blond hair, immense guilt written on his face. You turn around, away from him and curl into a ball to hide your body from him, nursing your bruised wrists while sobbing quietly. He doesn’t move, doesn’t say anything as you cry, not even to defend himself. Eventually, you hear him shuffle around, before dropping something on your table and turning to leave.

You don’t look at him as he turns the knob, opening your room door to leave.

“I’m sorry.”

“Leave me alone, please.”

He doesn’t say anything else, closing the door behind him silently. With him gone, you peek over your shoulder to see what he put on the table.

The huge stack of cash only makes you curl into a tighter ball and weep harder.

Bonus:

  THE look on Mikey’s face was nothing short of priceless.

It’s a mixture of anger, hurt and guilt - so much guilt that could kill a normal man. Izana could only watch humorously as Mikey sat down in the passenger seat of his car, violently tossing his phone onto his lap.

“You won. Here’s your stupid pictures.”

He only smiles at his little brother’s anger, finding it hilarious that his brother would be upset at being wrong about you being in love with him. “Wow Mikey, you really work fast. How the hell did she not know the spy cameras were there huh?” Izana snickered, picking the phone up to look at the pictures taken. His grin only stretches further as he sees you in intimate positions, even one with you fully naked, your perfect tits out on display and tears running down your cheeks. “Come on, how was your first time with a virgin? You don’t look too happy. Did she cry a whole lot-”

“I didn’t sleep with her.”

His smile falls lopsided. There was something strange about Mikey, like he had done something he couldn’t take back. Which was shocking, this was the same man that had paid Makoto - your PA, to put spy cameras in your room, what changed? “Why though? Don’t tell me she made you go soft or something-”

“She was going to fucking kill herself if I went through with it.”

“And you stopped?” Izana scoffed at Mikey. Really? That’s why he didn’t go ahead with taking what he wants? “She was gonna silence herself permanently, no one would have known.”

Mikey’s jaw clenched, but he only grunted, his eyes looking down at his lap. “Just drive me back to my dorm room.”

Izana rolled his eyes at Mikey. “This is the last time I help you with a girl, all that effort for nothing.” He snaps, revving up the engine to leave. “Since when did you get so soft, Mikey? Don’t tell me you fell in love with her while you were on top of her?”

Mikey stays quiet this time, his silence holding the answers.

‘Well fuck. That was unexpected.’

Special thanks to: @officiallyjaehyuns @haikyuusboringassmanager @ilybbg @merrymerrykiss @cockonoi @Rindou24689 @short-cxke @kokoch4n3l @GenAwi @ryuguji-sana @nuyoo @reiners-milkbiddies @kiwixpi @gh0stgirl333 @brisssaaa009 @fushiqruo @kawaiikoalagarden @damidamimongalam @raven-nevra @ilovetwodmen @kodzubaby @straightfromheaven @manchie55 @pikibee @tomeyano @matchamilktea-05 @tenjikusstuff4 @m0onz1 @hapikiou @rainnyzz @Lovelyartistz @lik0 @theblueslytherin @rabbit @kakusimp @Rin-10 @sousydive @torasplanet @playgirlfawn @gumiegumie @kurokawaia @anastasiatheloveofyourlife @bontenxo @satorubby @black-swan-blog27 @asirensrage

[torasplanet]

i need her to do unspeakable things to me. i need her to come home so i can take care of her. i need to hold her and kiss her and receive her kisses. i need to feel her sleeping with her body on top of mine. i need her to hump my ass to get off when she's so worked up and just can't help herself. i need her to use my mouth. i need her to hold me by my waits while i ride her strap and hump her thighs. i need her to be obsessed with my boobs while they bounce in front of her face. i need to kiss her all over and worship her and whisper how great and good she is. i need to-

[torasplanet]

and what if i wanted vi from arcane to come eat me up…then what

[torasplanet]

Ummm... Maybe you should make a comeback!

comeback loading…

[torasplanet]

making me wanna make a comeback…

FOREPLAY WITH HIM...

Pairing: bllk/TR/jjk men x fem!reader

Genre: fluff/Smut

Cw: cutesy, lovey-dovey shit, the characters will be mentioned below the fic, fingering, clit play, penetrative $ëx, etc..

Note: this fic is heavily inspired by another ff that was ab geto, and this "foreplay" thing YK... Anyway, I don't remember who is the original creator of the fic, so if you know, tell me so I can tag them or link the og work. Thnx

Fore play w isn't just your usual oral or fingering before fucking, it's much more than that. It starts in the morning, when he tightly hugs your body, and caresses your sides, gently grazing over your curves, as he pressed light kisses on your sleeping form to wake u up. "Good morning angel! Did you sleep well?" He asks, his voice still hoarse and deep.

Fore play with him isn't just your usual prep before doing the deed, it continues throughout the day in many forms. Whether it's the little kisses he peppers on your neck when you're making coffee accompanied by his usual back hugs or the spontaneous kiss he'd press on your knuckles while looking in your eyes ever so lovingly, just because.. that was his reasoning, you're a goddess descended on this mortal earth, and all he wants to do is worship you, make you feel loved and cherished.. that was his reasoning, his mission in this ephemeral life.

Foreplay w him, would also take place when y'all would be all cuddled up, your arms embracing each other, legs tangled up together, to form a cocoon of trust and safety, one of love and affection, where the both of you can relax and enjoy each other's company. He'd press gentle kisses on your forehead, his big hands softly massaging your back, he might also him a little tune for you, his voice feeling ever so sweet, the melodies erupting from his throat, a soothing balm for your ears.

Foreplay w him is also when his hands would slip inside your shirt, caressing your soft skin. His long fingers would slide all the way to your chest, gently squeezing the soft mounds of your boobs. A few breathy whimpers would erupt from you, which make him smile lovingly. He'd press a kiss on the corner of your mouth, whispering so sweetly to you "I'm here sweetheart! Don't worry, I'll make you feel good baby", his tender gaze mixed with his deep voice, sent shivers down your spine, your core starting to feel warmer than usual.

"Kiss me honey!" He'd gently tell you, his gaze softening upon seeing the way your breath hitched. As you leaned in, your breaths tangled in the air between you, the softest, most delicate of sighs escaping your lips. And then, in a slow, sensual dance of tongues and lips, your mouths met. It began as a feather-light press, a light brushing of lips, before the contact deepened. Your mouths opened to each other, your tongues tracing gentle circles and swirling in a tender, erotic dance, the slow, languid kiss drawing out the anticipation and desire between you.

Foreplay ofc didn't stop here, not when you were both hot and bothered, way too needy for each other. "Baby.. can we?" He'd gently ask, his eyes still keeping that same loving and tender gaze, even if they were full of lust. Oh..how lovely! Ig that's what it means to be truly loved.. one puts their needs after their loved ones'.. "how sweet!" You'd coo, your hands cupping his cheeks, pulling him in for another slow kiss, "ofc love! I'll make love to you!" You said, your voice ever so sweet, sent jolts of excitement to his cock, making it even harder than it already was... How sweet!

Now, that's where the traditional foreplay would start ig.. he'd undress you in a languid, tender way, making the air between you thicken with intangible longing. He'd kiss his way down your body, leaving a trail of reddish marks on your tender skin, his digits would trail over your tits, his thumbs gently rolling your hardened nipples. "You're so perfect..kiss.. so pretty..kiss.. my lovely y/n.. I love you!" He'd mutter in between kisses, the combo of his huffed voice and his hand's ministrations reducing you into putty in his hands.

He lowered his head, his eyes never leaving yours, your back arched, a soft, breathy moan escaping your lips, as he finally reached the source of your most powerful yearning. His tongue flicked delicately at your clit, and you felt a shiver race down your spine. The rhythm of his lapping grew purposeful, the sensation building within you with each deft, loving stroke.

Simultaneously, his fingers, coated in your wetness, slipped between your legs, finding the slick entrance to your most intimate space. Slowly, he eased first one, then two fingers inside, his movements gentle and unhurried, arousing you with each languid thrust.

Once, he's made you cum and still on his knees, he'd move up until his swollen, pulsating length was right at the entrance of your dripping wetness. You could see the love and tenderness in his eyes as he began to ease inside you, slowly and deliberately.

You both gasped as the tip breached your barrier, and his entire shaft slowly filled you. The sensation was a mixture of exquisite pleasure and tender intimacy. Your cunny gripped and quivered around him, inviting him in even deeper.

Your lovemaking was now slow, unhurried, and languid, as if you had all the time in the world. Each gentle thrust elicited soft, breathy moans from both of you. Him, being the attentive lover he was, would pause and wait for you to adjust before he would continue his slow, deliberate pace.

As his hips ground against yours, an all-consuming sensation coursed through both of your bodies. The world outside your love cocoon faded, leaving only the intense, white-hot core of your connection. A guttural cry tore from his throat as he unleashed a torrent of hot, thick cum into your quivering depths. In that final, blissful moment, he looked at you, with his tender and adoring gaze, he caressed your face, "I love you sweetheart! You're amazing!" He'd whisper before collapsing into your arms, your intense lovemaking had tired him, and so it did to you.

How wonderful it is to love and be loved...

Isagi, Kunigami, Chigiri, Yukimiya, Chifuyu, Hakkai, Takemichi, Mitsuya, Pahchin, Nanami, Geto, ur favs

© mdsbabygirl do not copy or translate my work without my permission.

[torasplanet]

been thinking a lot about frat!toman and being their sweetheart. i have many ideas but the one stuck on me is when they all just can't get enough of you! they all share but it's getting to a point where they're damn near ready to go through a barbaric war for you.

mikey, the frat prez, would treat you like an absolute princess like the most of them but with him you really are. he can do what he wants and say what he wants meaning you get whatever you want but he doesn't particularly enjoy it when you get mouthy. nobody else does either.

the only one who really seems to like it is nahoya, it really gets him going when you tell everyone how it is and make demands. what else gets him going is when he gets you to shut all that shit up. it's funny to him almost. you get a little bit of dick and everything you tried to stand on matters much less than before, in fact you've forgotten about it.

mitsuya is such a sweetheart when it comes to the frat sweetheart. he treats you like fine china, of course he has his moments but he's nowhere as rough as some of the others can be...he's your favorite, for a reason.

draken is also a nice one but don't get him wrong, he's very quick to snap you back into place if you're being too much of a...brat, he'd say. he's also king of casual dominance. he's sort of a mitsuya mixed with a baji. he'll always make sure you're okay while he's treating you and whatever you call that nasty thing between your thighs like nothing but a cumdump.

speaking of him, baji is such a tease. he's mean, to say the least. he likes to show you off, he's not scared of people knowing about the situation going on the frat. in his words, most people already think frat sweethearts get fucked like you. he can be nice, he's a gentleman of course but most of the time, he is such a meanie !!

however, this doesn't make him the meanest. chifuyu, whether you believe it or not, can be pretty fucking mean. he's such a sweetie, he loves you and adores you yet when you get him upset, he's torturing your poor clit for hours to the point you wish that nahoya was the one pissed off !! don't even get me started on how filthy his mouth will get...

kazutora is the real sweetheart though, him and souya both. kazutora is always so gentle with you, he takes you out on dates and treats you before he even thinks about getting between your legs. speaking of, he is a real eater !! he can cum just from eating you out and then he's satisfied for the day. but with the way he likes to cum, you'll be getting eaten out until kazutora has to get rid of his pants because of how much he stained them.

souya by far has to be the best gentleman. he waited so long to fuck you, he knew you were sore from the recent relationships in the frat and he wanted you to really feel him and everything he has to offer. he still does the same. he refuses to fuck you if someone else already had soon before him, the most he'll do is foreplay and enough to make you cum untouched. he hates seeing your pretty pussy all spoiled with someone else's cum!! all he wants is to stare at how his cum is so sheer spread all over your thighs and cunt.

but what they all fight about is who gets to do your aftercare and taking you out. as much as they love seeing you all fucked out, they love seeing that sweet smile when they give you a surprise date. the toman frat boys simply adore you !!

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[torasplanet]

ran isn't very fond of sharing his things. sometimes he is, he likes sharing you but very rarely. he wouldn't consider himself the jealous type but he just can't stand when someone's getting something he should be getting.

he's only really on board with sharing you only if he came up with the idea or unless you said something he's been thinking about for a while. but this time, he does not like it. he does not like how shion is staring at you the one time he convinced you to come to a tenjiku meeting. he quite literally had to take months to make izana say yes and here this blonde fuck is staring at you, practically eye-fucking you while you sat on his lap with your legs spread across rindou's lap. he didn't care too much but he did realize that his brother had started to get a bit upset.

rindou would be insane not to realize how ran's nails were puncturing into your skin almost drawing blood. and when he looks at you, you're already trying to figure out what's wrong with your dearest boyfriend. but the damage had already been done. now ran has to prove that nobody else can have you and rindou can tell. he's been apart of ran's little sharing thing with you enough times to know how possessive he gets.

"ran! hold on-shit." you squeal as your nails scratch at one of the large storage units looking for something to grab onto. ran's hands are sure to leave bruises on your skin the way he's grasping at your hips while ramming into you. your back is arched all prettily with your shirt bunched up above your chest, tits popped out of your bra and pants and panties down at your ankles.

ran simply smiles as he leans down to nip at your neck. "that fucker was eyeing you down like a perv." he whispers as he sucks hickies onto the clean and smooth skin of your neck. his thrusts don't stop nor do they slow down as you try to conceal your moans. one of his hands sneaks up to grab at your neck making a unusually loud moan release from your lips.

"and you didn't do anything baby-" "didn't know!" you interrupt him and he bites down on your neck. hard.

his lips drag up to your ear as he smirks. "interrupting me? no fucking manners babydoll." ran says playfully in your ear as your legs wobble barely able to stand anymore as your forehead rests against the storage unit.

he rams into you, his tip hitting your g-spot at the perfect angle. you feel like you're gonna come on the spot. "what the..." a voice says making both of your heads snap back and there he stands. shion standing there dumb-founded watching as your boyfriend fucked into you. ran lifts up again but he doesn't stop or slow down, he goes faster in fact making you moan louder as his fingers dig into the skin of your neck pushing down on your thorax making your air supply a slight bit limited.

"look, it's the man of the hour." he says in a teasing tone. his hand grabs your face and turns your head back around pressing his fingers on your cheeks. he forces your glossy lips into a pout giving the blonde a perfect few of your slutty fucked out face. "say hi baby."

[torasplanet]

thinkin bout brother's bff!tora...

ever since you were little, you've always been close with kazutora because of him and baji's friendship but as the two of you got older, the relationship began to change. a lot.

kazutora's gazes started to linger and the way he would talk to you was different. you couldn't explain it but the change in his voice from talking to your brother and talking to you was drastically different. and you liked it.

but that was just when you two were teens, nothing happened, not even a kiss although when the three of you became adults, it was different. you still lived with your brother because you were his little sibling and you loved him! definitely not because you would rather split rent than pay it whole...but that's not the point!!

the point is that it wasnt often that kazutora came over because usually they were at work together or out in the streets but when he was...everything was so much fun especially when he spent the night.

"you wore these 'cos you knew i was coming over huh?" kazutora asked looking at your underwear, he ran his fingers over the fabric that seemed too fancy to just wear daily. his fingers drifted over your crotch making you whine.

his hand immediately clasped around your mouth "sh, sh. i got you, just relax." kazutora whispered to you making you nod your head rapidly. you were just so needy for him to do something to you.

sometimes kazutora wishes he brought a gag for you because when he finally took care of you, you were slobbering all over his hand while he tried to silence you. you were just so loud for your brother's best friend and kazutora didn't want you to be loud but he's glad that he's the best friend that's making you moan like a pornstar.

"be quiet. if baji f-finds us, he's gonna be mad and stop me from seeing you. and i won't let you start fucking chifuyu, you're m-mine."

©torasplanet .ᐟ reblogs and likes are very appreciated! pls do not repost!!

[torasplanet]

hiatus era🤕