#caughtin4kcollab

the bonten executives absolutely adored when their boss's girl comes strolling in, all of their eyes snap to you—they can’t deny that it's so entertaining seeing eye candy whenever you grace them with your presence.

mikey pays no mind to what his underlings do, sitting at the end of the lengthy table with his hands tucked perfectly behind his head while his static orbs quietly collecting every touch, whisper and single flick of their eyes do to what’s his.

bonten’s number two always starts with his sapphire eyes catching glimpses of your curves, crawling his vision up to your tits bouncing with every step you take. sanzu can’t take his eyes off of you, imagining how much he’d stare at you while you’re under him naked and splayed out—he shakes his head pulling the thoughts from his mind when you walk by him with a smile.

ran isn’t so subtle, he jumps to his feet to greet you—featherlight touches to your exposed skin while his long arms wrap around you pulling you into a hug. a smirk bleeds through his face when a squeak comes from your lungs, always tighter the better so he can feel your tits squish against his chest. ran wonders how loud you’d be if he had his cock buried in your—rindou usually cuts the interaction off when he gets to the best part.

the younger haitani wants you to lean down while you talk to him, just a slice of your breasts peek through in his vision when he whispers his greetings, “you look so pretty today” he comments, gaze still set on your perfect tits. “mikey is so lucky” rindou adds before flashing a genuine smile but the compliment sounds so fake almost like he just has to say it while he simply imagines fucking you.

you make your way to the black hair man sat across from your boyfriend, he smiles sweetly with a soft ‘hello’ and nothing more—kokonoi wasn’t as obvious as others but when nights got so lonely he only thought about you while he fucked his fist, always spilling his seed to some picture he just so happened to have.

the other two members were just as kind, gentle to the touch—words of honey exposure but you were just sure they looked too hard at you but how could they help it? your body swayed so perfectly, their pants just seemed to tighten at the thought of advancements towards you.

mikey didn’t care though, not a single thought crossed his mind while his men eye fucked you—he trusted you, loved you and would most certainly kill a man for you. because at the end of the day, you belong to him.

“you’re still awake?” you question, peering your face over the door frame of mikey’s home office, his fingers card through the raven locks. “yeah angel, bout to be done though” he swivels in his chair, patting his thigh “sit with me pretty girl.”

he doesn’t have to ask twice before sounds of bare feet padding across the wooden floor and plopping down on his thigh, mikey warm chest cascading heat as you snuggle into his skin.

mikey places a kiss on your hair while his fingers work against the keyboard sending waves of emails, your body engulfed by one hand and fingers running a circle across your sheer shirt.

your lashes drag shut, the lasting sounds of his meek breathes rushing through his lips—it feels peaceful, traces of harmony cloud throughout the room, sleep invades your mind till the shuffle of his body jolts your body from slumber.

he looks down noticing a clear shot of your breasts, the crevice between both mounds of flesh and his cock twitches at the sight, another sense kicking in noticing your ass wiggling against his crotch.

he leaves the laptop to run his finger down to your neck, stopping at your chin to tilt your chin upwards—lips meeting his own in one motion, playful mouths moving in sync, tongue dipping into your warm mouth. mikey becomes impatient, clouding your face with his hands and needy lips inhaling your breaths.

“i want you” mikey mumbles through your mouth, biting your bottom lip and pulling it leaving a string of spit—cunt clenching at the action you trail off his lap and lead him to the bedroom, fingers intertwining like knots while the bed sheets hit your back.

mikey crawls over you, between your legs and grinding down his hips on your cunt, heavy pants settle on his tongue—greedy fingers slipping your shirt off and hungry tongue catching your perked nipple in his mouth.

“can i record me fucking you?” mikey utters, distancing himself from your body and keeping a finger to toy with your bare skin, “yeah but why?” you ask, tugging at his pants, lust filtering your brain.

this wasn’t the first time you’ve had a camera capturing your intimate moments but it caught you off guard since you usually asked and mikey was rather—shy about it.

“when i miss this perfect cunt, got a reminder” he pulls his shirt off tossing it aside and gathering his fingers at his belt unbuckling it, you shrug your shoulders in a lazy manner—fingers snapping at his underwear while he flashes a coy smile jumping from the bed to set up his phone for the perfect shot.

mikey places it on top of the nightstand making sure you were front and center, the camera angled right at you—more or less at him, he didn’t care about his body even in it.

mikey returns to his position, taking your hand to touch his hard bulge while he slips your frilly panties off and throwing him over his shoulder, fingers grabbing against the fat on your inner thighs. he slinks from the bed, yanking your ass to the edge of the bed while his head dives between your legs.

fingers splayed across your lower stomach to keep you down while he tongue slides through your folds, he knows how much you wiggle under his hold whilst mikey flicks his tongue against your puffy clit, slurping your juices and dropping a glob of his spit back down in your messy pussy and a single finger comes through to swirl through the mess.

“manjiro” you whine, voice coming off as a squeal when he hums into your cunt, vibrations sending a shiver through your spine, “always taste so good” he finally speaks out, continuing his tongue flickering over your clit.

your hands find salvation in his hair, tugging and pulling harder down on your heat—mikey squeezes your thighs, tongue rolling and prodding your clenching hole, he takes his time—playing through every motion his tongue could possibly do until he feels the tremble of your body knowing you’re so close.

“g-gonna cum” your soft squeak flutters through his ear, mikey grins through your cunt, cock throbs at the rupture of moans escaping from your lungs as the tight coil snaps against your stomach, high pitch scream while the juices color his tongue.

mikey comes up from your legs, wiping your slick with the back of his hand as he shuffles his underwear off and climbing back over you. he motions your body perfectly in front of the camera, all the pixels capture is your face, legs spread and a smudge of his body hovering over you.

“you think anybody could make you cum like that?” mikey coos, fisting his cock waiting for your answer, flickering his eyes over at his phone before leaning down with one hand planted firmly beside your head.

“n-no, only you” you whisper, wrapping your arms around his neck, heels of your feet digging into his back, “that’s right pretty girl, gonna make a mess all over my cock, yeah?” he mumbles, glancing at your trembling lip hid behind your teeth, “y-yeah” you whimper, spreading your legs further, needy for him.

“that’s my girl” he crashes his lips against yours and rolls his hips in motion, sinking his fat cock deep inside you, eyes crossing when he thrusts harder and harder, not a moment to even catch your breath.

“fuck baby, you’re so tight” mikey groans, pounding harder into you, the sheets under you balling up from his tight grip—mikey lips part, cock dragging through your gummy walls.

you feel like you’re growing close again, fingers twitching against his skin, juices from your weeping cunt drools to the sheets, mikey short breaths hit higher pitches every time he bumps your cervix. the orgasm washes through you, pussy clenching in response when you let go, mikey gasps fucking you through the waves of bliss rupturing your body.

“you’re mine, all fucking mine” mikey takes his hand and grips your warm cheeks “this pussy is mine.” you babble incoherent words, sentences left unheard when he feels his release rearing its head, slamming harder and wrapping his arms around you while his cock leaks his seed.

“god you’re so fucking perfect” mikey praises, leaving a kiss on your forehead, “so fucking perfect for me” he feels his seed leaking into your hole more and fuck—he just wants to stay like this forever.

the bonten members don’t know why their boss has called this meeting but they really had no other choice since whatever he says goes.

watching mikey walk to the front of the room with his hands casually shoved in his pockets he reaches his hand out to click a small remote as the projector comes down casting a video.

their eyes begin bulging from their sockets when a familiar face appears on the screen, noises of your high pitched whines and whimpers flow into through their ears.

a more particular scene plays through, mikey grips his hand on your face, head leaning down to your ear whispering hot tainted words “tell me who owns this fucking pussy.”

your head throws back when mikey pushes his cock deeper in your hole, a melodic moan ruptures through your pretty puffy lips “it’s you manjiro, all yours” you whine, the sounds of your voice only grow higher as it’s obvious mikey makes you cum seconds after the words.

the screen pauses right after, and mikey cuts the video off taking his demise stare to every single member that just watched everything laid out in front of them, “what’s mine, is fucking mine” he says, pulling out his gun and laying it on the table.

“any questions? or should i just play the video again?”

wrong number | akaashi keiji | @meiansmistress​

... | akaashi keiji + kenma kozume | @bokuroskitten​

... | hanamaki takahiro + stepcest | @anime-nymph​

take it | konoha akinori | @bunbyy

... | meian shugo | @kinsurou

... | miya atsumu | @y-uuta​

... | oikawa tooru | @rosesandtoshi​

... | semi eita | @amazinghorse101​

... | suna rintarou | @haikyutiehoe

... | washio tatsuki | @nobayanii​

first time for everything | katsuki bakugou + kirishima ejiro | @lilithbasically​

... | denki kaminari + shinsou hitoshi | @sunaluvs​

please | dabi | @lilithbasically​

... | todoroki shoto | @katboykiyo​

... | itadori yuuji | @megumiya

... | gojou satoru + reader + suguru getou | @kemakoshume​

... | megumi ​fushiguro | @hxnnyybxnny​

... | erwin smith | @pennylanewrites​

... | mikasa ackerman | @jollyshark​

... | ​yelena | @yelenassecretlover​

... | eren yeager | @ohayopoko​

[ everyone pretend i made a tokyo revengers header okay? okay. ]

... | baji keisuke | @indyura​

... | kazutora hanemiya | @semisgroupie

... | manjiro sano | @kshira

... | rindou ​​haitani | @delirieum​

You looked down at the sheet of stark white printer paper in front of you, skimming over the words one last time, your signature still missing from the dotted line:

“I hereby consent to the rules outlined and discussed on the page prior. I, _____ (initial), consent to and willingly participate in the explicit content creation business event organized & held on today's date _____ and agree to follow all rules outlined by the event coordinators on the page prior. I acknowledge that the money(s) earned will be split on a personal accrual basis; meaning, all content creators will post their own content on their own accounts & profit what they make separately on their individual accounts.”

Noted.

“As stated in the event rules page, consent must be given enthusiastically and can be revoked at any time. Content will be reviewed on the last night before dismissal from the premises for approval by all involved parties. Once approved, the content must be advertised and shared as agreed unless all parties concede to terminate the agreement.”

You sighed, reading over the last sentence again and again before releasing your focus on the words. Your eyes flicked up, looking around at your intended coworkers.

All the men and women around you, some new to you and some not, all seemed calm. Some looked devilishly smug, bouncing their legs in barely contained excitement for the weekend to come. Others looked indifferent but pleasant, and some looked bored, probably from the ongoing hour and a half of legal jargon you had all just sat through.

You felt butterflies creeping into your stomach as you looked at the myriad of personalities present in the space. The boy next door, a young brooding hot guy, a muscle pig, a MILF, femme girls, masc girls, an older brooding hot guy with long hair, a walking Dolce & Gabbana advertisement with white hair—and that was just to name a few. Though, you couldn't help it when your eyes were drawn back to the last two; they were the only people in the room that were already caressing each other’s skin, and lazily playing with the loose tendrils of each other’s hair.

It shouldn’t have made you gasp when your gaze was caught by theirs, but it did; and you couldn’t help the flush of red that bloomed beneath your skin when they smiled at you, like starved wolves that have just found a wounded rabbit in a small clearing in flower-filled woods. You broke eye contact, looking back down at your papers to feign interest in the text.

“Everyone done?” the man—a ghastly (albeit adorable) little lawyer that had been hired to handle legalities, said. He dragged his eyes across the room, making half-hearted eye contact with all of the faces situated at and around the large pinewood conference table. “Does anyone have any questions or objections to what we’ve discussed before I take your contracts to be notarized?”

Everyone looked at each other inquisitively, making eyes at each other as if to say, “do you?” You kept yours on your paper. A few beats of silence passed, and just when the lawyer—Ijichi, maybe?—moved to speak again, the white-haired man raised his hand in the air, like a mischievous school child about to pester his favorite, typically timid, teacher.

“No objections Kiyo. Can I call you Kiyo?” he said, ignoring the shaky reply from the sapless man. He lifted off his dark tinted glasses to expose his beautiful azure blue eyes, locking them onto your face.

You looked up, noticing the intensity in his gaze. He looked at you as though he could see every curve and edge of your soul. Maybe he could, who knows? “I think we might have a virgin — so to speak — in the room. Mei Mei, is this one a recruit of yours?”

You looked to your left, dragging your eyes along the sharp lines of the woman’s face. Your gaze settled on her cherry-red lips.

“She is not one of mine but I do wish that she was. I’m assuming you’re our casting call addition, right little one?”

You nodded your head, a soft “yes,” leaving your mouth.

“Ah, so cute,” she cooed, sweeping your hair back behind your ear. “Nervous?”

Your eyes dropped down to the valley of her breasts, the full span of her chest exposed with the excessively low neckline of her flowy lavender dress; the garment also included a lace corset bustier that she’d cinched tightly at her waist, drawing even more attention to the fullness and curves of her body. Her lazuline blue hair draped across her lithe shoulders.

“No,” you said softly, feeling the facade whittle as you will yourself to look the woman in her eyes. “Well, maybe a little. I’ve never done an inventory load with my content before— which, if I’m honest, just means that I’ve never planned on having this much sex in just a few days. But, I am not a virgin so I’m sure I can take it. I’m just having some pre-sex jitters I guess.”

The woman smiled at you, running her manicured nail soothingly up and down the goosebumped surface of your upper arm.

“Oh, don’t be shy love. Don’t worry, we don’t bite. Unless you want us to — of course,” she said with a wink, glancing down at your contract that remained unsigned but not saying much more.

The blue-eyed man looked between the two of you, a coquettish grin on his lips. “We love to hear that. So, Kiya, when exactly can we get on with the fun part?”

You hear a small groan from your left, looking over to see a woman in the middle of an eye roll. She’s beautiful, and you’re sure you’ve seen her online before. Fetish work? Maybe JOI content? Domination? You can’t remember.

You’d researched (watched porn featuring) — at least — fifteen of the people around before coming down to the estate for filming over the weekend; however, after watching so many videos, they had all blended together and you mainly only recognized people vaguely by their faces. You also didn’t get a chance to watch content from them all anyway, so nearly every interaction would be a surprise.

She crumpled up a loose sheet of plain printer paper and chucked it at the tall, white-haired man sitting across from you.

He caught the little ball mere centimeters from his face and dropped it coolly on the smooth surface of the sturdy desk. “The ‘fun part’ starts when you sign your contract instead of sizing up the newbie,” she quips, muttering ‘asshole’ in a hushed tone that everyone in the room could still hear.

“Oh don’t be so sensitive ‘Hime. If you want to take some aggression out you could at least wait until we’re filming.”

Your eyes snapped up to the blue-eyed man’s neck, watching the long-haired man next to him apply a noticeable amount of pressure around the nape, raking his fingers through the loose hair there and pulling it tight.

He noticeably stops talking, and you don’t miss the shared smirk that the woman and the hair-puller exchange. The air feels thicker with heightened tension since most of the people in the room noticed the display.

The lawyer prickled, locking eyes nervously with the tall blonde sitting on the opposite head end of the table from him.

“Kento,” he whispered, not-so silently begging for intervention.

The man rolled his eyes, sitting up taller in his seat. “Satoru, sign. For anyone else who hasn’t signed, if you’re having doubts, that’s fine. No one here is going to force you to make content and we don’t want you to feel pressured. No hard feelings if you decide against participating. We saved this final section of the contract signing until you were all here for a reason. You can still opt-out.”

Your eyes trailed around the room one more time, and you saw nothing but sweet looks and small smiles being exchanged in return. Everyone had signed but you, and it must have shown. A small group of people, two boys and one girl, looked at you quizzically.

The one with pink hair and soft eyes quirked his head, reading you and your face without you saying a word.

“Okay, listen. We’re all here to fuck, make money, and have fun for the weekend, right?” the boy said, glancing at the spiky-haired man by his side. “This should be a no-stress zone! I know I’ll be really bummed if anyone leaves but I think everyone here would understand, yeah? Content weekends aren’t fun unless everyone is genuinely on board. So, speak now or forever hold your peace?”

His tone was light and subduing; any tension left in anyone’s shoulders softened, including your own, as his honey brown eyes went all doe-like similar to a puppy. You giggled a bit to yourself, taken by the young man’s sweet demeanor when you felt eyes on you again.

The man with white hair and his partner were examining you. You felt warm, just from the caress of their eyes along your body. How could you back out without getting to know how their hands would feel? About how all their hands would feel?

You looked down at the contract again, not even reading the words but just taking in what the signature would mean. Your first time doing back to back shoots. Your first time having sex with more than one — okay, two… maybe three — people in one day, and god only knows how many over the whole weekend.

Though, you thought to yourself, they were all professional, experienced, people who respected boundaries and knew what they were doing, and were all quite beautiful to look at.

That thought was… exciting, really, not scary.

“Fuck it,” you sighed, picking up your pen to scribble in your initials, then your full birth name in both signature and printed form across the bottom. “You only live once.”

The group — at least twenty people, give or take — all made a little show of clapping for you, whistling and bumping into each other in thinly veiled excitement as you placed down your pen.

“Well then,” the blonde said, rounding the table to take all of your documents, “thank you Yuuji for the pep talk. With that, if everyone’s signed their paperwork then I think we’re good to go.”

He walked over to the shaky lawyer, helping him clip together the contracts in an organized manner, loading the documents into the man’s very thick, patent leather, briefcase. “Okay, that’s all from me. Have a fun weekend everyone,” he said, bowing a bit as he made his way out of the room, then out of the massive house you were all renting.

It felt like the entire room took a communal sigh of relief as he left. Even the blonde huffed, sliding his hands into his pants pockets as he leaned on a chair. “Alright, I think we’re free now,” he said, eliciting a small round of giggles. “Well, go explore. Rooms are up for grabs on a “finder’s keepers” basis, and they all have toiletries and robes for everyone. The kitchen’s stocked, the outdoor patios will be heated for the night, and it’s just us — on a private lot — for about three miles, so do with that what you will. If you need anything, our management company’s intern Akira is on call and in the area so don’t be afraid to speak up. Any questions?”

No one showed any intention to say anything.

“Good. We’ll discuss matchups for content in detail later after you’re all settled. Now that’s it. Disperse.”

Everyone hopped to their feet immediately and began to scramble around the house, like little ants in search of spilled sugar within the home. You noticed pods of people breaking off on their own; they were likely friends with established chemistry and comfort with each other already.

Some people moseyed around the space, looking around and taking in the decor as they made their way around the rooms. You couldn’t help but be part of the second group.

The home had beautiful decorum arranged well around the massive space. The main area was littered with reimagined art nouveau works that the owner had organized in a gallery-like display on the walls. The furniture was all notably vintage but very well taken care of, and the lighting fixtures that hung high above your head had crystals that made little blings of light dance along the floors and ceilings.

The space was comfortably warm, despite the slight chill coming in from the autumn season outdoors; mainly because of the abundance of natural light coming in from the wall of tempered glass windows, and the space held plenty of flourishing plants that made the air feel rich.

How could a home so grand feel so intimately beautiful?

You made your way up the large winding staircase, looking down the long hallway with staggered heavy oak doors. You walked down, looking passively into each room as you went.

Most housed people in them already, their voices and laughs caring down the wide corridor as you passed by. There were a few rooms with only one bed, though even those had more than one occupant, small piles of people draped on top of each other playfully in their rooms.

Having joined via casting call and not word-of-mouth, nearly everyone was a stranger to you. Would it be awkward to just… waltz into a room and say: “Hello strangers, I’m here to occupy your space.” Maybe they had another friend they were waiting for already, or they thought they’d gotten lucky and no one would take up their space, or…

“Hi!”

You jumped, feeling your soul momentarily detach from your body. “Hi,” you yelled back, swinging your body around to look back at the petite blonde standing a bit too close to your back. You looked the girl up and down inquisitively, momentarily distracted by the pretty blue color of her doe-like eyes.

“Uh, are all the rooms up here taken?” you said, motioning down the hall, noting that the lights were on in most of the rooms though you didn’t know who or what all they contained.

The girl rocked back and forth a bit on her heels, sliding her hands into the cleverly hidden pockets stitched into her dark blue a-line dress. “Well,” she said, dragging the word, “technically no, but also yes. All of us cute younger girls are bunking together in that room at the end. It’s basically a suite — it’s so fucking massive. You can join us if you want! We have enough robes and stuff in there for everyone, and the bathroom has two toilets, and the shower is a waterfall kind. I shit you not we can all fit in there at once, and —”

“Momo,” a voice called from the room, “stop gabbing at the new girl. She can come look at it herself.”

She looked at you, shrugging her shoulders with a giggle. “Yeah, she’s right. Come on, you’re gonna die when you see it.”

You nodded your head, adding a little involuntary bounce to your step as you followed her into the room. “Oh fuck,” you muttered, dropping your bags at your feet as you came face to face with the interior of the space.

There was only one word to really describe the room you’d stumbled your way into: fucking breathtaking.

“Is that,” you stammered, pointing at the expansive ceiling, “is that a recreation of the Sistine Chapel?”

Momo hummed, plopping herself down onto her own bed pushed over and into a corner of the room. There were a few other girls in the room as well, all sifting through their things to pull out whatever they needed for the night.

“Insane right?” one of them — a girl with short black hair and cat-like eyes — said, lazing around on her bed. “God. Nanami and Utahime really outdid themselves with the planning on this one. I’m almost impressed.”

A girl popped up from the floor by her bed, only one earring on correctly, with the other gripped between two of her fingers.

“Hi new girl!" she chirped, sticking her earring back into her ear. "I can’t believe they managed this solely off of the money we all put in. I heard they even got a company to come clean for us and top off the food and stuff while we’re staying here,” the girl—sweet-faced with mint blue hair and eccentric curtain bangs—said, gasping when she realized what she’d said. “Aw, man. I think that was supposed to be a surprise. Don’t say anything! I couldn’t take it if Iori got mad at me.”

All the girls chuckled, including you, watching the girl look like she’d work herself up to tears over spoiling the news if you let her. She plopped down onto a chair in front of the vanity by the black-haired girl's bed.

“Miwa, please. She couldn’t be mad at you if someone put a gun to her head and it’s not a surprise, so relax. She definitely told all of us that.”

“Oh. Thank you, Mai,” she sniffled, wiping away tears that never came. “You’re so sweet sometimes when you try.”

Mai prickled, shouting profanities at Miwa despite how much she cowered, pulling the blue-haired girl down from the stool onto her bed.

You chuckled, looking away from them to move towards the door by the entrance. “What’s in this room?”

The blonde perked up, jumping down from her tall bed. “Oh! It’s an extra room,” she said, opening the door to expose the inside. “It only has a bed and a mirror but we’re gonna turn it into a makeshift content room. Stock it with some extra sheets and towels and have the lighting and everything set up in there already. Convenient right? Now we don’t have to use any of the “smoosh rooms” — whatever the fuck that is — if we don’t want to. I heard the Itadori idiot nickname them that.”

Miwa giggled, her head slotted beside Mai’s as she was pinned to the bed. “I think he’s smart, and really sweet. A lot nicer than your cousin at least, Mai. He is a cutie too though, just in the ‘I’m trying very hard to seem mysterious right now — beg for me to let you see the real me — my favorite color is black and I hate sugar’ — kind of way. I’ll give him that,” she giggled, having — apparently — mimicked the cadence of his voice perfectly.

The black-haired girl chuckled, making a little “ick” noise with her tongue sticking out. “Gross. Thank you for reminding me he’s here. Thank god we’ll probably end up filming content at different times. That way I’ll be busy when he’s doing it, and he’ll be busy while I’m doing it. I don’t wanna see him — or my sister — or hear them and this place is big enough that I probably won’t have to,” she said, a little smile on her face. “Everyone wins.”

You grinned, picking your bags off of the floor to sit them by the unoccupied bed by the window. The girls had all unpacked and arranged their things around the room, save for the space they left untouched for you.

“Where are the content rooms anyway?” Miwa asked, her voice sounding more strained under Mai’s muscular build. “I didn’t see them.”

Mai lifted herself off of Miwa, plopping down onto her side with a huff. “I’m pretty sure they blocked off three rooms downstairs somewhere — just as big as this room apparently, and there’s two blocked off up here, plus our room.”

The girls looked between themselves, all shaking their heads with a shared, “cool.”

“Cool,” you giggled, taking toiletries and clothes out from your bags and sitting the items down on your bed.

The door to the bathroom swung open as you did, a girl with spiced red hair exiting with another person following closely behind her. “Oh, we got another girl?” the ginger said, tying the knot on her robe loosely around her waist, “Sweet. Welcome to the rodeo.”

You caught a glimpse of the bathroom as they exited. It was almost as big as the bedroom.

“I’m Nobara, this is Maki,” she said, motioning to the girl behind her. She gave you a little smile, waving half-heartedly as she dropped down onto her own bed in front of yours.

“Oh, baby,” the ginger said, climbing onto the bed to hover her body over the girl, pulling her into a kiss. “I’m tired, and I want some wine. Did you bring it?”

Momo yelped like she’d made a brilliant discovery of some kind. “Speaking of,” she said, digging around in her bags, “did everyone bring lingerie and/or bathing suits?”

You all hesitated, thinking it over as you rummaged through your own bags.

“I did, actually,” you said, moving around your clothes until you found a little orange two-piece set, sitting it down on your bed. “I didn’t think we’d use the pool but I did see something about a hot tub in the invitational, so, yeah.”

“Wonderful,” the blonde said, fishing her own suit out of her bag. “Bara? Maki? Mai? Miwa? Did you guys b—”

Momo stopped in her tracks, turning her head to see all four girls holding up their suits, still in their beds. She clapped, practically jumping out of her skin with excitement at not only the fact that you all had suits, but that they all looked similar enough aesthetically that you’d look like an ensemble, despite not all being friends.

“Perfect. Then, I have a little proposition for an ice breaker,” she said, reaching into one of her bags to pull out five things: Twister — the board game — boozy wine, a polaroid camera, a few cowboy hats, and a small pile of name tags. “What do you think?”

You looked down at the myriad of items, opening and closing your mouth like a water-starved fish. “I,” you paused, “I’m gonna be honest. I’m a little confused at what I’m looking at.”

The blonde chuckled, tossing you one of the cowboy hats — a bright orange one to match the bikini you’d placed on your bedding. “We’re all about to spend the weekend fucking each other and basically everyone else in this house that we choose. So, what better way to get to know each other than by getting a little tipsy, playing some games, taking pictures — you get the point. What do you think?”

You looked around at the other girls, nodding your head to say yes, and so did they.

“I’m down,” Mai said, getting up to snatch the uncomfortably warm bottle of wine from the petite blonde. “But, why the bathing suits?”

The blonde smirked, taking a little pouch meant for makeup out of her bag. “We should put on a little show. Get dressed, do our hair and makeup, and preview the goods. I mean, we’re here to have sex all weekend. Might as well start off with a bang.”

Miwa laughed, holding onto her stomach, “A ‘bang?’ That’s, oh god, that’s a good one.”

Both Mai and Maki rolled their eyes in tandem, both muttering, “oh jeez,” to themselves. Nobara found it just as funny as the blue-haired girl. You giggled too.

“Okay, you easily entertained little weirdos,” Maki chuckled, lifting her body off of her mattress with her girlfriend still sitting pretty in her lap. “Guess we should get dressed then, hm?”

Nobara nodded, picking her phone up off of the charger next to Maki’s back when her phone screen lit up with a message.

“Megumi says they’re making pizzas downstairs,” she said, moving slowly to get off of Maki. A few beats passed and her phone dings again, and all of a sudden she was moving with vigor, practically running around the room to get ready.

“What’s wrong,” you all croak, slightly disturbed by the whiplash-inducing change in attitude.

Her eyes were wild and crazed and she took off her robe, her bare breasts exposed and her underwear quickly discarded. “He said Yuuji and Todo are already down there.”

Mai dropped her phone on the carpet in her haste to disrobe, slipping on the flimsy, complicated, material of her bikini with unnatural ease.

“Oh fuck, that was a warning! Todo could eat a small house by himself if he wanted to, and I can’t imagine Itadori’s much better,” she said, looking up at you, Momo, and Miwa standing awkwardly as you watched the two rush. “Well hurry up! We’ll starve if we don’t get down there before they have at it. This is not a drill people—go go go!”

She corralled you all into the bathroom like cattle, shoving your makeup bags into your hands like a madwoman. “You’ve got maybe, maybe , ten minutes,” she said, speeding off to do her own makeup at the vanity not far from her bed.

You and the girls shared a look, fumbling around with your makeup and hair tools to get going.

Looks like the weekend had begun.

“Jesus, they make me feel sick. Any minute longer and they’ll fucking devour each other’s faces.” You scoff with disgruntlement, stabbing the vegetables on your plate with a little bit too much more force than necessary. At this, Suna attempts to shuffle away from beside you. You make the effort to grab onto his wrist, slinging the male back down. His tray clatters with a clamour, and he whines a small yelp as he’s grounded back down into his seat.

“Whatcha talkin’ about?” Agaki chimes as he slides his tray beside yours, pulling out the chair with a deafening screech against the tiled floor. You cock your head forwards into the general direction of the exhibit you’re gawking at.

Or, trying to gawk at, at least.

“Mister Atsumu over there, but now there’s a dench guy sitting in front of me.” You huff an exhale at Osamu, who only stares at you blankly before taking the seat right opposite you— thus obstructing your field of view.

“Eat ya food.” Osamu states, prying his chopsticks apart before murmuring a small thanks. He then proceeds to lean over to your untouched side of rice, stealing clumps of the grains right out of your bowl without a second thought or anything as much of an ask. Suna seems increasingly worried by this, and is unsure how he’s able to approach you when you’ve got such a murderous glint in your gaze. Then again, having miya atsumu as your own twin makes you just about immune to everything else.

You dismiss the burning image of Atsumu’s new girlfriend clinging onto him like a koala bear, cuddling up with him and smooching the man in broad daylight. You try not to think of how his gaze locks with yours from across the room, sternly and intently watching you before leaning in to whisper into his lover’s ear. You’re rewarded with an obnoxious laugh on her behalf, and Osamu has to drive his foot into yours to make sure you don’t stand up and cause a fuss.

“You jealous?” Suna muses, leaning his face into his hand with intrigue. you pause to consider his question instead of whatever insult comes bubbling to the surface.

“Not jealous, just agitated.” You reiterate carefully, watching Suna’s gaze narrow.

“Jealous.” Osamu confirms after swallowing a mouthful of rice. You realise it’s futile to argue, so you occupy yourself with your phone. Your food tray lays forgotten on the table, hungrily eyed by the three men who sit beside you. You give them a brief half wave of dismissal before they begin arguing over who gets to snatch what.

“I mean. You did reject him.” Suna objects through a bite of some salmon, earning a raised brow from Osamu.

“Don’t eat with your mouth full, Sunarin. And that’s besides the point.” You shoot him a glare, causing Suna to glint at you through his slits as he analyses the situation.

“Is it? I mean, what did you expect? He’d sit around and wait for you?”

“I’m inclined to punch you, Suna, but you drive a hard bargain so I’ll nod respectfully instead.”

“As you should. I’m older than you.” He muses with a small smirk quirking his lips, foxy gaze narrowed with amusement.

Suna awaits a response from you, whether that’s you grilling him with an insult or physically flicking him between the brows— but it doesn’t arrive. He follows your gaze from under the table, noticing that you’re typing away at your phone with diligence, tongue poking out the corner of your lips and all. He’s about to ask you what’s up, suspicious of the fact that you might be arguing with some rando over Twitter and whether or not you need any help conjuring up insults. That is, of course, until his phone buzzes the moment you finish typing. Osamu and Akagi glance at each other in confusion when they too feel their mobile devices vibrate in their pocket.

Suna’s the first to dig his phone out, punching in his passcode. He opens the chat you sent, pupils dilating and eyelids blowing a few centimetres. A small laugh threatens to choke out of him, but you’re up and away— walking from the table to go elsewhere by the time he wants to ask you how you managed to get this.

It’s not your fault that Miya Atsumu’s snapchat password was the world’s easiest combination, and that he didn’t keep his dirty laundry stored away in ‘My Eyes Only’.

Anyone could’ve guessed it. Miya0510. And now a screenshot of her nudes are circulating, except the caption seems to hint at the fact that it wasn’t reserved for Atsumu, anyways.

You’re only doing him a favour. He should be thankful, right?

You lean over the faucet of the women’s restroom, slowly and steadily reapplying eyeliner. One of your hands crawls around to stretch your eyelid out, ensuring smooth application. You blink a few times, stepping back to admire your masterpiece in the reflection before switching to the other eye.

The bathroom door kicks open, frame clattering against the wall and almost flying off the hinges. You don’t seem phased by this, and so you only continue to cautiously touch up your face. The blonde in mention who just booted himself inside the women’s restroom is only increasingly pissed off at how you heed no attention to him.

“Got a pussy?” You deadpan, screwing your eyeliner back on before rummaging through the contents of your makeup bag for some lipstick.

“Take that shit down.” Atsumu barks, honeyed tone low and intense from where he stands.

“Mm? Take what down? Oh you mean my Snapchat story? Got removed for violating TOS, but at least thirty to forty people screenshotted it. You gonna go around breakin’ into all the toilets too? What happens if you kick one down and someone’s in the middle of takin’ a—“ Atsumu, instead of pinning you up against the wall, decides to roll his hips up behind you— strong hand flying to the back of your neck as he bends you flat over the counter. You squeal and writhe underneath him, a questionable sound arising from your throat. It’s too pitchy to be considered a moan, yet it couldn’t be labelled as a whimper of fear. He pins you down, cocking an eyebrow at your behaviour. Atsumu folds himself so that his chest clicks in piece with your spine, lips brushing your ear. Your lipstick falls with a clatter, skidding across the marble until it rolls onto the floor. The satisfying yet daunting clicks thrum in the air, and it’s reminiscent of a clock ticking— as though it’s counting down the minutes, seconds even, up until your ruin.

“Shut the fuck up.” He snarls, malice and venom tainting his usual soft-spoken nature.

“I don’t care if ya have to go beggin’ thirty or three hundred people. Yer gonna ask ‘em. Every. Single. One. To delete it. Hear me?” The syllables and emphasis thrum against your form, his mouth too close to your skin for comfort. Every time Atsumu speaks, you can physically note the waves of vibration that rock off of him.

“Fuck you. Get the hell off of me. Why should I listen to you?” You grit, shaking off the fact that your eyes just blew twice their usual size. Atsumu hums with amusement, his tone fills with slander. He’d be an idiot if he were to miss the way goosebumps traverse your body from top to bottom. You attempt to thrash around, to kick the blonde off of you, but he only slumps his weight against yours with a small chuckle.

“Depends. What do ya think would make a better title: ‘Bratty college student gets dicked down’— or, ‘Cheatin’ on my girlfriend with a cockslut?’” Atsumu contemplates, ripping a whimper out of your throat when he grabs a fistful of your hair, snapping the fibres as he yanks you backwards until your spine aligns with his heartbeat. He tilts your head so that you can see the sly smirk forming around his lips in the reflection of the mirror, as well as his phone in the other hand. The flash is on, indicating that he’s recording.

“‘S not gonna look good for you, is it? So unless ya want everyone to see your pretty lil cunt get split open by me—“

“—Maybe you should just sit still and be a good girl for me.”

You glare up at Atsumu through thick lashes, nose wrinkled and frown evident.

“Why the long face?” He jeers, cocking a brow as he toys with the drawstring of his jet black sweatpants. His slender digits loop through swiftly, until he pauses to hesitate before taking another glance at you.

“Take ‘em off.”

“Take it off yourself.” You scoff, but he gathers your head by the hairs towards the back of your scalp, yanking you forwards.

“You want me to repeat myself?”

You loop your fingertips into his waistband, dipping around to his hips to tug the sweatpants off. You’re about to slide them off all the way, but he holds you to a stop, claims that there’s no way he’s walking around “ass naked in a nasty college bathroom”

Atsumu lifts his black t-shirt up, revealing the dick print that sprawls out against his toned thigh— outline of his cock clashing against the fabric of his boxers. You glance up at him for a command, and the satisfied look on his face pisses you off. He knows he’s well endowed, knows that you’re gonna struggle.

When Atsumu nods, you slide his boxers down in a similar fashion to his sweatpants— letting them hang around the mid-thigh. His cock springs free against where his navel would’ve been had his shirt been lifted off.

His tip’s flushed pink, hot and swollen with a bead of precum threatening to spill out the slit.

You lick your lips subconsciously, avoiding his prying honey gaze when you stretch your mouth wide for him.

Atsumu stuffs his cock down the contents of your throat, your eyelids blowing and you hack and gag instantly around his girth. Your wrists move to scratch and claw at his hips, aiming to push him back with all your might. Tears spill out the corners of your eyes, glassing over your vision as bile threatens to stack up your throat.

“Good girl.” He hisses from in between his teeth, the praise stirring up locked emotions from within you. Atsumu swipes a few apps up on his phone, bringing up the camera. You hear the audible shutter snap and click as he gathers some extra material, whether that’s to instill more fear in you or for him to keep for himself later is none of your concern.

Between letting you struggle and making you struggle, there’s a clear favourite within Atsumu.

His hand supports the back of your head, and you’re sure it’s just a gesture of affection on his behalf when he combs his digits through your locks. Instead, though, he’s just using you for support. He figures he’s gonna need two hands to fuck your throat up, so he stands his phone on the nearby counter— taking a few seconds to get the angle just right.

You’re struggling enough as is, fighting for your damn life and the right to breathe properly. Atsumu grips onto your face, touch borderline bruising but never enough to cause you physical pain. He slides his hips out and you choke when his dick leaves the very back of your throat, hoping to catch your breath and regain some composure; except he just slams himself back in with a small groan. He begins working into your throat at an even and rough pace without much warning, slicking and slurping conspicuous sounds bounce off the walls.

“Fuck. Fuck, that’s a fuckin’ good girl. Takin’ my cock so well. Look at you.” He pants, voice strained. You rub your thighs together, slick pooling in your panties at his sweet words. You crave more of it, more of his attention and acknowledgement. You twist your mouth in time with his thrusts, lapping and curling your tongue along the underside of his shaft.

“Didn’t think It’d take ya less than five minutes to be my bitch.”

“Kinda disappointing, you know?” He sighs begrudgingly, pulling his cock out and slapping it against your face. You pout, mewling as you kiss his tip up and trace the throbbing veins that crawl his shaft.

“I’m not your bitch.” You retort. Just horny, that’s all.

“You bipolar? Pretty sure I saw ya gettin’ off just a second ago.” Atsumu flicks his index up, signalling for you to stand up. You comply, leaning against the faucet. Atsumu lifts you until you’re sat on top of the counter, back clashing against the cold mirror— legs spread wide but your knees are intact in hopes of some form of decency. He scoffs at your pathetic attempts, opting to rip a hole into your tights where your underwear’s visible. As suspected, there’s a large damp patch that stains the fabric from your arousal. At this point, his cock’s aching. He doesn’t waste time in pushing the fabric aside, slicking his long fingertips against your folds. You turn away from him, hoping to glance at the door.

“You really think you’ve still got yer dignity left? When your cunt’s all slicked over my fingers? You just wanted to get fucked.” Atsumu grips onto your face with his thumb, index and middle finger, squishing your face together. He leans your head back, prying your mouth open before leaning over and spitting a fat glob of his saliva into your mouth. It takes you less than a second to swallow.

He pries your wet cunt open with his other hand, middle finger curling inside your warm walls.

“Say it, you fuckin’ whore. Say that you want my cock.”

“‘M not fuckin’ ya ‘till you tell me.”

He dips another finger inside, scissoring you apart— mind growing hazy and that familiar pressure grows abundant in your abdomen. You can feel your brain frying, fuzzing at the edges. He’s driving you crazy, pulling you apart to put you back together and repeat the cycle again.

You open your legs for him fully, head downturned and you give him the best lust-fuelled gaze that no amount of acting could ever compete with.

“Make me your cockslut, Atsumu.”

Atsumu’s making you hold his phone. Of course he is.

He’s making you hold it, recording from the front camera enough so that the side of your face is in frame, leading down to the expanse of your back and how he’s railing you raw against the counter. There’s a multitude of hickeys and bruises painted into your skin, and your thighs singe from where his balls keep slapping against the skin there. He smirks at the camera, giving the to-be audience a playful and bold wink as his palm crashes down to spank your ass.

You press your forehead against the glass, babbling.

“T-Tsumu! Ah! Mmh! D-don’t w-wanna— hold it—“

“Ya don’t wanna hold my phone anymore? Aw. And why’s that?” He coos condescendingly, making it very difficult for you to form coherent sentences when the blunt tip of his cock keeps dragging against your walls like that— stuffing you full and wide to the tilt. Every time you think of something, your mind short-circuits and fails because he abuses the soft and spongy crevice inside of you.

“You wanna touch yourself? Is that it? ‘Cause I’m fuckin’ you so good?”

“Y-yeah,” You whimper, feeling small at his belittling.

“Yeah?” He mocks your tone, moaning in a feminine pitch before laughing in his usual range.

“Please,” You sob over the sound of his skin slapping against yours. There’s a patch of foggy glass over where your face is pressed against the mirror, as well as the fat tear that stains the material as it rolls from your eye.

But Atsumu doesn’t relent. He knows he can drive the insanity deeper inside you, knows he can reduce you even further.

He reaches to take the phone from you, but it’s only because he’s getting a shot at something even better compared to before.

Atsumu’s hips snap in place like a vice, cock crammed up against your cervix and you gasp a cracked wince as he stills himself to pump warm ribbons of his cum, filling you up nice and deep yet never allowing you to reach your climax once.

You think he’s done, that maybe he’ll give you the opportunity to rub one out in fears of going mental.

But he doesn’t. That never comes. Even after the smell of sex hanging in the air, stream of cum flowing out of your pink pussy and the leftover dried stains on your inner thighs— Atsumu only takes one last picture. It’s of your face. Fucked out, stupid and like a cheap whore as you murmur nonsense. If it were up to him, and in fact it was, he would print it out and keep a copy of the picture in the back of his phone case.

He tells you that if you fuck yourself, he’ll leak everything.

The following morning, you’re awoken to a wall of notifications on your home screen. You stifle a yawn, concluding that it’s the usual and briefly flick through. However, there’s a notification from an unknown number that catches your attention. It’s a link, and there’s a small cutoff afterwards that reads ‘this u?’

You sit up in alarm, heart clogging in your throat and your head pounds- blood thrumming around in your cranium.

You click on the link with shaky hands, and you’re greeted with the familiar hues of black and orange illuminating against your skin. There’s quite a hefty amount of views racked up on the video, despite it being posted a little under 12 hours ago. It’s number three trending, actually.

The title reads: “COCKSLUT”.

CAUGHTIN4K 2021