Like clockwork, one thing leads to another and now you’re on his couch, straddling his lap, hands combing through his hair. He pulls back just enough to speak.

“My parents are on some business trip, just so you know…not that we have to– I mean, I’m not implying—” the words are clunky. It’s clear it’s been a while since he’s done this.

Your lips reach his again to silence him and he absolutely melts.

His hands move to your waist, as he easily allows you to take the lead. You’re just about as hypnotized by the feeling as he is. After all, every person’s kiss is different, but this feels soft, caring, and just a touch desperate.

It’s nice, you think for just a moment before remembering why you’re actually here. It’s a real shame.

Your lips trail down gently from his lips…to his jawline…to his neck…

And that’s when you bite down, like any normal person would an apple, hands splayed on his chest as you start to taste the iron rich substance you need to live.

To him, the bite is…unexpected, but not entirely unwelcome at first. That is until the pain feels more sharp.

A jolt undercuts any pleasure he could be experiencing. His muscles tense as he murmurs, “What are…” His hands clamp down on your wrists and he pushes at you.

You whine softly as he tries to pull away, attempting to continue to drink until he shoves you back harshly. Your hand moves to rub your shoulder gently as your mind recovers from the euphoric state of feeding. Staring back with bleary eyes, you focus back on him. His blood is still staining your lips and chin.

Steve stares back with wide eyes as he sees the sight of sharp, crimson covered fangs. “Jesus Christ!?” Within seconds, he’s standing to bolt, dashing up the stairs to his room.

Your high from the blood begins to wane, considering you only really got a drop, and that’s when the stakes of the situation start to set in. Wiping your mouth, you quickly dart after him,“Steve!”

By the time you make it to the bedroom, Steve’s standing there braced with a baseball bat full of nails in hand. Instead of playing twenty questions with why he has that in the first place, you take a careful step forward. “Steve, please don’t freak out…”

He raises the bat higher as you move closer, “Freak out? You bit me,” he says bitterly back, “Don’t– don’t come any closer.”

Your footsteps stop, keeping a distance between the two of you. “I’m really sorry about all this,” you say softly.

“Sorry? You’re sorry?” He echoes back, shaking his head slightly as he struggles to wrap his mind around what’s going on. “You just bit me. And– and you drank my blood!”

You roll your eyes a bit, “I wouldn’t really say drank considering I barely got a drop in before you decked me.”

Steve lowers the bat just slightly. He lets out a shaky breath, trying to control the panic within him. “Oh so you barely drank,” he lets out a short sarcastic laugh. “Wow, great. I feel so much better now.” He winces as he touches the bite on his neck.

“That’s only going to make it worse,” you say while watching him attempt to hold the wound.

He just glares back, still pressing a palm to his neck with a muttered curse. “Yeah, well, no shit,” he snaps back, voice laced with equal parts fear and irritation. His hand leaves the wound, coming away slick with blood, more than he was expecting. His stomach rolls. He grips the handle of the bat just that much tighter.

“Okay, so…vampires exist. Cool…cool, cool, cool,” he says incredulously. “So what now? Do I…turn into one?”

“No,” you shake your head back and stare like it’s obvious. “No, I wasn’t trying to turn you. I was planning on…draining you…entirely…” Your voice trails into more of a mumble as you slowly realize how bad that sounds.

Jesus Christ. Steve stares back, the color completely draining from his face. As if standing here with blood dripping from his neck was bad, now you’re confessing that your plan was to kill him?

There’s a long stretch of silence as he considers everything.

“Are you connected to…it?” He asks hesitantly. There’s a small shake in his voice, almost imperceptible.

“It?”

“Vecna? The Upside down? All that shit?” He says back, like the words should make complete and total sense.

You just stare back like he’s grown a second head.

Steve groans, “I’ll take that as a no.”

“I’m sorry…” you repeat again. This isn’t how it was supposed to go. In fact this is exactly what you generally strive to avoid: the questions, the pleading…

“Sorry doesn’t exactly explain why you’re trying to murder me,” Steve doubles down.

You sigh and take a patient step back, sussing out your options. “The less you know the better,” you say gently, meaning if you don’t linger on it, if you forget about it, I don’t have to kill you.

With a small sigh back, Steve lowers his bat, still keeping it gripped in his hand but the head rests against the carpet. “So what now?”

What now? You think for a moment. Obviously the easiest option would be to cut loose ends but with him seemingly willing to fight, it might not be worth the effort. The only other option would be finding an escape route and hiding out in the shadows in hopes that this could blow over. After all, no one would believe him, right? But then there’s the problem that you haven’t fed in days…

“I don’t know,” you conclude.

His gaze stays fixed on you. He seems to be weighing his options as well, calculating the risks. The silence stretches between the two of you until his voice eventually breaks it.

“Look, I’m not going to pretend to understand any of this right now,” he starts, “but clearly you need to…feed. And I don’t know if there’s like some sort of vampire code or something, but you said you were sorry. And honestly…it didn’t seem like you wanted to hurt me.”

Your eyes flit up to glance at him, curious where this is going. “I don’t,” you rush to reply, “I mean, I don’t enjoy it.”

“That’s good to know,” he smiles back lightly. Steve’s eyes drift over near his bedside where a strip of photo booth pictures sit, Dustin and him smiling and joking together. He sighs and focuses back on you.

“I think I can help you,” he says and runs a hand through his hair, “but we need rules. Boundaries. Something that doesn’t involve you randomly sinking your teeth into my neck. Alright?”

Your eyes stay pinpointed on him, body still as you take in his words. “Why?”

Steve lets out a nervous breath. “Why?” he repeats, “Because I like being alive? Because I don’t want to be sucked dry.”

You shake your head lightly and glance back at him. “No,” you reply, “Why are you being nice to me?”

For a moment all he can do is stare back. It’s a fair question and in all honesty…he doesn’t know the answer. Eventually, he finds his words.

“Maybe because I’ve seen enough monsters to know that you’re not one of them.”

“Look at me, focus right here,” you wait until she weakly lifts her head. “W-what?” She spits.

“I’m gonna tell you how this goes down. The little girl will kneel right here facing you,” you point to a spot across from her, “and you will watch me kill her, how I’ll break her skull until she’s unrecognizable. But don’t worry,” you smirk “I’ll let her scream in pain for a bit so you know she’s suffering, it’s what you did with him didn’t you?” You hiss.

“Also considering you’ve been out here for some time you should be hungry, maybe I should make you eat her, huh?” You wonder.

“Would you like that? You fucking cunt underestimated me and look where that got you. Your Daddy dead, your Friends Dead and it’s only you and her left.”

“Y-you are so s-sick, all of this just for him?”

“This is nothing, you have no idea what I would do for him.”

“She’s just a kid” she pleads.

“Do I seem like someone who’d care?” You say as you get up.

——————————————————————————

When she heads towards the exit you immediately get up and wander after her. No one bats an eye but Simon. He has watched you all night, at the bar, the tension palpable and even back at the table your eyes were locked on her. Tracking. Simon knows that you want to kill her, he’s knows the look in your eyes when you’ve found a new target to eliminate. As much as he wants to entertain this plan, he needs to stop you. Even though she clearly needs to learn not to fuck with someone as yourself, if you kill her then Maria will kick you out no questions asked.

So Simon follows your trail, using his military knowledge, exactly what he taught you.

Until she stops in some alley, that’s when you attack.

“Heyyy,” you call out and she turns around already rolling her eyes.

Before she can even open her mouth your fist has landed in her face. Her attitude makes the following crunch of her nose bridge breaking so much more satisfying.

As suspected the force of your fist knocks her down. She whines, -you have to stop her from making too many noises-. You’re on her, pining her down with your weight on her waist. You look at her face, scrunched up in pain, she’s crying and all that lovely blood, you crave this, seeing the damage you can inflict.

You lean in and whisper tauntingly.

“I’m gonna fucking kill you, you dumb bitch. You won’t ever try to put your hands on me, cuz I’m gonna break one finger after the other. Or maybe I should cut them off, feed them to the dogs.” You laugh but it sounds unnatural, faked.

“Getting into things that are none of your goddamn business,” you grab her jaw tightly and pull her face close “you don’t fuck with me without consequences. No, whores like yourself get what they deserve. I’ll beat the shit out of you until you’re gonna wish you would’ve never been born.” You squeeze your hand so hard that more tears spill. You’ve always loved playing with your prey.

There so much blood gushing from her nose and mouth. You’d be surprised if she recovers from this.

You pull out your pocket knife, the sharp blade flicks out and the sheer panic in her eyes is exhilarating.

——————————————————————————

Professional gaming is not easy.

Yeah, it’s flashy and gets you a large platform and millions of dollars, but the end result is a lot considering the price you pay.

Hours upon hours of sitting behind a screen, always acting like you're happy and positive, longer hours than you could think. (filming and editing are at least 12 hours a day. )

And Kenma Kozume is no stranger to the ups and downs of professional gaming.

Sleepless nights, low morale, major digs to his self-esteem. But definitely the most important, his relationship with you. He’s missed more than a few dates, got distant and angry, but they’d be lying if they said he didn't love you.

If he had it his way, he’d be with you all the time, tending to all of your needs. But that’s just not possible and right now. He promised his viewers the 12-hour stream for 10 million followers, and that happened.

“Ken, come on! Just a quickie, we’ll be done before the stream, please, please!”

He really would like to, but he was getting warmed up for the stream. This was the fifth? No, the sixth time you’ve pleaded with him for sex. But he was so close to leveling up and that’s just what he needed to launch him into his real quest.

He just couldn’t leave his game, and he definitely couldn’t leave you hanging like this, it would be miserable for the both of you.

“Hold on- KUROO! GET IN HERE!” yelling, Kenma has had many great ideas, his best friend living with the two of you was one of his best, but this one may just top all of them.

Throwing him out of his mind was Kuroo running through the door, frantically looking over the scene before him. You, practically throwing yourself over the blond’s lap, and he, not even looking your way focusing on the team slowly closing in on his position.

“What’s wrong? What’s happening? Are you guys ok?” he rambled making his way towards you two.

Finally, Kenma looked towards the ravenette, “Can you do me a favor?”

“Uh, I guess, yeah. Yes, I can.” relaxing back, leaning on the wall, eyes following as you stood over your boyfriend's chair.

“Can you fuck ‘em for me? They keep whining and I have no time. Just fuck them to sleep please?”

Shockingly this was not the first time Kenma had asked something like this but it was always for him to join, never you and him alone. And hell, Kuroo wasn't about to let you down.

“Aw Kitten, you need some help over there?” he mocked, stalking over to where you stood. Guiding your hips towards him pressing you against his body.

“He won’t” you pouted, wrapping your arms around his neck, “he won’t even look at me! I’ve been begging for almost an hour!” Kuroo could see Kenma rolling his eyes at the claim.

“Has he? That’s so mean Baby, you want some help?”

Pulling you to your shared bed in the corner of the room, far out of the view of Kenma’s camera. Tucking his head into the crook of your neck, pressing kisses to your skin, hands moving to your hips.

“We’ve got a few minutes Kitten, let's make them worthwhile, shall we?” With that statement, he began pulling your shirt over your head. Once he disregarded your shirt, throwing it to some unknown corner of the room, beginning the work on your pants.

“You get prettier every time, don't you?” he purred into your collarbone leaving a trail of saliva and bruises down your body. Pulling away from your skin, he sat back to admire his work before tugging your panties along with your shorts down your legs.

Sharp eyes following the string of wetness connecting your lower lips to your red panties. His face split into a feral grin, running his pointer finger from your clit past your belly up the end of your bra. Circling a pebbled nipped through the thin fabric of your bra.

This was unfair, you were naked and he hadn't even taken his shirt off. Noticing your dilemma, he pulled his shirt over his head revealing his tight stomach. At that moment you could feel two pairs of eyes on your dripping cunt.

“Kuroo, I asked you to fuck them not tease them to tears, you have like 20 minutes until I have to start.” Kenma’s voice drawled from his chair, clear distaste for his best friend rings through his statement.

“Dude! You called me in because you were too wussy about the time and ‘couldn’t fuck them right!’” Kuroo laughed, thumb attaching to your clit, letting a moan escape.

You could practically feel Kenma’s eyes narrow onto your face, Kuroo had a nasty habit of riling people up at the worst times. And right now he displayed his destructive talent. In a hazy of pleasure, you couldn't hear Kenma rise from his chair, pausing the game on his PC.

Within what felt like a second, Kenma was over where your head lay, still engulfed by Kuroo’s fingers, pulling your chin to look up at him, glare focused on your flushed cheeks and ‘“o” ’d lips with disdain.

“Kuroo’s calling me a wuss and you're just gonna sit here and moan like a bitch? You want something to moan about? Keep your mouth open, whore.”

Pulling his half-hard dick out of his shorts he hooked his thumb around your bottom lip, pulling your mouth wider to accommodate his length. Letting your mouth settle on a part of his cock, Kuroo barks out a laugh while removing his boxers, hand never leaving your weeping pussy.

Once Kuroo set his tip at your entrance Kenma shoved the remaining part of his member down your throat. Kuroo, only a moment later, pulling your hips to meet his, nestling his cock in your pulsing walls.

Kenma’s hands finding the back of your head, fucking your throat with a purpose only he can express, and Kuroos hand moving to your hips the other continuing his assault on your clit.

“You look so cute, Kitten. Slobbering on his dick like that, so good for us.” Kuroo cooed. Watching as Kenma fucked his dick into your throat, his head was thrown back using your mouth for his pleasure.

Kenma cum’s first with a groan about how wet your mouth is, pulling out he demanded you swallow, opening your mouth to see an empty cavern before patting your cheek and slouching back into his chair, eyes glued onto where you and Kuroo connect.

A particularly sharp thrust into your g-spot brought your focus solely back on the black-haired man. Taking his hand from your hip repositioning it onto your neck, pulling your back into an arch.

“Eyes back on me Baby, let's give blondie a little show ‘k?” he growled out, speeding his thrusts pulling moan after moan out of your sore throat.

Continuing his assault, an alarm broke you out of your Kuroo induced haze. Before you could question your mind went white as your orgasm overtook you, Kuroo following only a minute after.

“What the hell was the alarm for?” Kuroo flopped back onto your chest, dick plugging your hole keeping his cum from dripping out. 

“Stream time. Anyway. clean them up and let them eat, aaaaaaaaaand, they’re asleep” Kenma laughed, his idea worked, at least.

Like he can feel your eyes on him, Kuroo looks up at you in the stands. His expression brightens, and he smirks, sending you a wink before turning back to the game. And fuck if that’s not the sexiest thing you’ve seen all day. You can’t wait to wipe that stupid smirk off his face tonight when you—

A loud whine drags you from your daydream, your gaze snapping away from Kuroo only to land on a pouting Yukie. With another whine, she drops her head onto your shoulder, the sound muffled by the too large jacket wrapped around you. Raising an eyebrow, you glance at Kaori over Yukie’s head, but the other girl only sighs. On your other side, Akaashi leans forward enough to look at Yukie as well.

Before you can ask her what’s wrong, Yukie’s arms slide around your waist. She pulls her face from your arm and props her chin against your shoulder, a heavy, dramatic sigh falling from her mouth. “Ugh,” she groans, looking at you and Akaashi, who only blinks back at her, “you two are so lucky to have such hot boyfriends.”

You almost choke on your spit when her words register. Behind her, Kaori looks absolutely scandalized, her eyes wide with horror. You’re barely able to smother your laughter when you catch a glimpse of Akaashi’s bewildered expression.

He blinks at Yukie again, mouth opening and then closing just as quickly before he finally settles on a confused, “Thank you.”

Yukie nods, her gaze sliding back to the volleyball game going on below. She hums in thought as she watches the ball move, eyes latching onto a familiar player. “Bokuto is thick,” she continues suddenly, rambling to herself. “Thick. With two Cs. Like, damn, look at him next to Oikawa’s pancake ass and tell me that that—what do the kids say, cake?—isn’t the nicest thing you’ve ever seen. Not that Oikawa isn’t hot too, but you know how I like a nice ass.”

You’re trying not to wheeze at this point, your shoulders shaking with barely muffled giggles as Yukie’s attention shifts to Oikawa’s flat ass. Next to you, Akaashi looks like he’d rather be literally anywhere else, and you knock your shoulder against his. His exasperated expression only makes you laugh harder.

Of course, that’s when Yukie turns her attention to your boyfriend.

“Oooh, and don’t get me started on Kuroo. Those are some pretty damn delicious arms. And his thighs! God, he could crush me with those and I’d say thanks.” Your laughter cuts off abruptly, your shoulder stiff beneath Yukie’s chin as her eyes wander over Kuroo slowly, watching as he jumps to successfully block a spike. She hums appreciatively, and you bristle immediately, a sick feeling swirling in the pit of your stomach the longer she looks at him. “They aren’t as beefy as Daichi’s, but Kuroo can—”

Kaori slaps a hand over Yukie’s mouth before she can continue. “Okay, that’s enough out of you,” she says, trying to pull your whining friend off of you while sharing a look with Akaashi.

Yukie only clings to you tighter, arms squeezing around your torso. “What, I’m single! I can look at anyone I want. I just can’t touch, pinch, or lick. It’s not my fault every guy we know is stupidly hot and taken.” Yukie stops suddenly, patting your thigh almost comfortingly. “Congratulations on scoring a hot piece of ass by the way.”

The possessiveness that flares in your chest is shoved back down as you remind yourself that this is Yukie. Your friend. She’s just being ridiculously thirsty as usual. It’s not a big deal. Nope. Not at all.

“Don’t you have a thing with Konoha?” you ask, desperate to change the subject from the aforementioned hot piece of ass that you’re dating. From what you remember from your last girl’s night, Yukie had gone on a handful of dates with the former Fukurodani player and things were going pretty well.

The question only makes Yukie’s expression darken. Her lazy grin disappears, replaced with narrowed eyes and a pout. “He doesn’t seem to think so,” she says, tone dripping with venom that makes your eyes widen. Before you can ask what she means, her mood shifts again. Yukie’s eyes brighten. She throws her arms up, yelling in excitement as the team scores a point.

You lean around her to look at Kaori, bemusement slowly turning to realization. “Is she drunk?”

A tired nod is all the response you need. “Very. She got into the wine while I was in class this afternoon. Apparently Konoha went out with another girl the other night? I’m not sure.”

Yeah, that’ll do it. “Of course, she did.” You settle back in your seat and allow Yukie to lean against your shoulder once more, only half listening to her rambling on about the game and the hot players on both teams. Now that you’re aware of it, you can hear the slight slur in the way she’s talking. That makes you feel a little bit better about her talking so openly about Kuroo. Just a little.

Jealousy is a bitch.

You almost forget about what Yukie said by the time the game is done. Almost. The players are just finishing cleaning up and gathering their things, and you, Akaashi, Kaori, and an intoxicated Yukie are waiting just outside the gym, chatting quietly as you wait for your friends to come out.

It isn’t long before the door to the locker room slams open, cutting Kaori off mid-sentence as the boys leave the gym. Footsteps pound against the floor. You look up just in time to watch Bokuto launch himself through the air and nearly tackle Akaashi to the floor, three inches taller and nearly thirty pounds heavier. Akaashi grunts in surprise, barely able to hold himself up as Bokuto’s arms and legs wrap around him. A noisy kiss is pressed against Akaashi’s cheek, but your attention is already somewhere else.

There’s a stupid grin spreading across your face as soon as you see Kuroo coming down the hallway flanked by Oikawa and Daichi, the three deep in conversation. Even from here you can see Kuroo’s eyes rolling, and you figure they’re talking about Bokuto’s frankly exhausting amount of energy post-game.

You consider calling out to him, but decide to take another second to stare at him instead. It’s unfair how good he looks after a workout, and you might as well enjoy it before he gets the chance to tease you for ogling him.

Yukie isn’t nearly as tactful. “Kuroo!” she calls across the room, waving her arms to get his attention. She nearly smacks you across the face with her flailing, giggling when you nearly drop her in surprise. Kaori hurriedly grabs Yukie as the drunk girl starts to slip from your grasp, and behind you Akaashi is still being smothered in Bokuto’s affections despite his complaints about sweat and PDA.

Kuroo’s head snaps up at the sound of his name, attention turning from Oikawa to Yukie, then to you. A grin immediately makes its way onto his face, his expression lighting up when he sees you. Oikawa says something that makes Kuroo shove him, and one of their other teammates laughs. Waving them off, Kuroo shrugs his bag higher on his shoulder, quickly making his way over to you. A mischievous smile tugs at his lips, and you know he’s just waiting to wrap you up in a bear hug and soak in some much-needed attention.

He’s halfway across the room when Yukie stops giggling long enough to shout, “Nice thighs!”

Kuroo’s steps falter, his eyes wide.

This time, you do drop Yukie. Kaori yelps at the extra weight, not expecting you to let go so suddenly and leave her as the only thing keeping Yukie from falling on her face. Yukie only starts giggling even harder, and you can hear Bokuto snickering as well from where he’s still wrapped around Akaashi.

It takes Kuroo a second to regain his bearings, his mouth opening and closing wordlessly as Oikawa laughs obnoxiously. Daichi at least has the decency to pretend he isn’t laughing as Kuroo calls back a confused “Thanks?” Shaking his head, Kuroo’s gaze returns to you, but you’re busy staring at Yukie.

Like before, there’s a sick feeling swirling around in your stomach. You know exactly what it is and force down the bitter, jealous, possessiveness that rises in your throat. It’s a feeling that you hate, but sometimes it’s hard to brush aside, no matter how much you trust Kuroo and no matter how obvious it is that Yukie is just being herself, albeit significantly more intoxicated.

By the time your attention snaps away from Yukie, the boys are closer. Oikawa is still snickering at your boyfriend’s expense, much to Kuroo’s annoyance. The two are exchanging quips, but Kuroo only has eyes for you.

Unfortunately, Yukie is still giggling and swaying next to you, you’re still more jealous than you’d ever admit out loud, and Daichi just happens to be the closest.

It’s almost an unspoken rule that Kuroo is always the first player you congratulate on a game. Usually, he has you wrapped up in a tight embrace as soon as he sees you, strong arms lifting you straight off the ground in his excitement. Just like Bokuto with Akaashi.

So, when Daichi goes to slip around you and help Kaori with Yukie, it comes as a surprise to everyone when you stop him with a light touch on the bare part of his upper arm. “Good game!” is all that you say to him, sending him a smile before letting go just as quickly once he nods, grateful, albeit confused.

You don’t notice the look that Bokuto and Akaashi share behind you.

Kuroo doesn’t look bothered at all by your brief interaction with Daichi, and somehow that makes you feel even worse. Lean arms wrap around your waist and tug you against a firm chest. Warm, slightly chapped lips press a gentle kiss to your temple. “You ready to go home, baby?” he murmurs against your ear.

One of his hands traces the length of your spine until he’s cupping the back of your neck, thumb sweeping across your skin.

Leaning into him, you tilt your head back to meet his eyes. “Yeah.” You wrap your own arms around him, holding on just as tight. “Good game.”

You’ve only been at Kuroo’s apartment for thirty minutes and you’re already about two seconds away from throwing something at Akaashi. With your volleyball player boyfriends wanting to clean up post-game, you’ve been alone with your best friend since Kuroo pressed a sloppy kiss to your forehead before racing Bokuto to the bathroom, only narrowly beating the other man—who sat outside the door sulking until Kuroo was done.

Normally, you wouldn’t mind the situation, but you can already tell that Akaashi has something he wants to say, and it’s a conversation that you really don’t want to have tonight.

Biting the inside of your cheek, you don’t dare look at him, all but feeling his stare burning into the side of your face as you stir a spoonful of honey into your tea and watch it dissolve. It’s too quiet in the kitchen. The clinking of your spoon against the side of your mug is too loud, and even Bokuto’s muffled, tone-deaf singing coming from the bathroom down the hall doesn’t lighten the mood. Nose wrinkling, you stop stirring your tea. An irritated sigh slips from your mouth.

He’s still staring, leaning against the counter across from you. Ignoring Akaashi is proving to be more difficult than you initially anticipated. You’re painfully aware of his presence. He’s scrutinizing you, brows furrowed in thought, and you know as soon as you look at him, he’ll know exactly what you’re thinking.

“So,” he starts casually—too casually—eyeing you over the rim of his mug, “are you going to tell me what’s wrong?”

You consider flat out ignoring him, but decide that’s too mean. “Isn’t it too late for you to be interrogating me, Keiji?” you ask, propping your chin against one hand as you finally look at him.

He raises an eyebrow at your word choice. “Who said anything about interrogating you?”

“I’m not upset,” you tell him, you know, like a liar. “I’m just tired. It’s getting late.” Another lie. It’s barely ten. Usually on nights when you stay over, you and Kuroo are up late watching movies or fooling around in his room.

“Okay,” he says, dropping it immediately, much to your surprise. He doesn’t look at you as he grabs his tea off the counter. The mug makes it halfway to his mouth before Akaashi sets it back down with a sigh. “Actually, no. I’m not humoring you tonight.” The look he sends you is stern. “It’s okay for you to be upset about what Yukie said, but it’s not fair to—”

Before he can really start to lecture you, he’s cut off by an enthusiastic blur of blue and gray nearly lunging over the counter to tackle him in a hug. “Keiji!” Bokuto croons, face buried in his boyfriend’s neck.

Akaashi grunts as the wind is knocked out of him, Bokuto giving him a tight squeeze around the middle. “Kou, don’t be so loud,” he chastises, but doesn’t shove Bokuto away. With a sigh, he allows himself to be kissed on the cheek and cuddled, casual indifference broken by a secretive, fond smile.

You consider teasing him, but decide against it, content to let them be.

A moment later, long arms wrap around you from behind, pulling you against a firm chest as lips press against your temple, then your cheek. “Hey, kitten,” Kuroo murmurs, voice muffled as he leans down to kiss the side of your neck. His messy hair tickles your cheek, still damp from his shower, and you automatically relax as the familiar scent of his shampoo tickles your nose. Another kiss is placed just below your jaw, where he can feel your pulse jump under his touch. His lips curl into a smile that you know only means trouble, and you shudder as Kuroo’s fingers inch beneath the hem of your shirt.

Akaashi rolls his eyes at Kuroo’s PDA, and Bokuto wiggles his eyebrows. They’re both used to your boyfriend being a sexual menace by now. He’s like this more often than not after a game. The adrenalin makes him grabby.

Your breath hitches as Kuroo’s hands get a little bolder, “Behave,” you tell him, but don’t try to stop him. He won’t get too handsy with Bokuto and Akaashi right across the counter. And, honestly, after what happened earlier, you’re just as needy as he is right now.

His smirk widens. “You like me better when I don’t.” A sneaky hand snakes around your hips to pinch your ass and you squeal.

You reach around to smack his shoulder as he cackles. “Tetsurou!”

He backs off but doesn’t let you go completely, arms moving back to your waist and wrapping around you tightly. His lips press against the side of your head apologetically, coaxing you to lean back against him, and you roll your eyes as you feel him shake with barely muffled laughter. Abandoning your tea on the counter, you place your hands on his arms.

That seems to placate him for the time being. At least, enough for him to turn his attention to your friends across the counter. Kuroo makes himself comfortable behind you, subtly resting more of his weight against your back as he and Bokuto begin to bicker about another practice match they have later this week.

With his boyfriend momentarily distracted, Akaashi goes back to observing you from across the counter, which you purposely ignore, instead focusing on Bokuto’s animated expressions and the gentle rumble of Kuroo’s chest vibrating against your back every time he speaks. Undeterred by your refusal to look at him, Akaashi crosses his arms, staring at you even harder, like somehow he’ll be able to see right through you.

“Do we really have to go to the gym tomorrow?” Kuroo whines. “It’s Saturday, bro, we can take one day off.”

Bokuto gasps, scandalized. “Never skip leg day, Kuroo!” Huffing, he jabs a finger in your boyfriend’s direction. “You want to be dummy thick like Daichi, don’t you?” he asks, much to your amusement. Akaashi looks like he’s in physical pain, and it’s all you can do to keep from cackling right then.

Kuroo’s grip on you tightens just a fraction. The arms that are wrapped around your waist tense, but when you try to look at him, Kuroo tucks you under his chin. His cheek presses against the top of your head. “I think my thighs are thick enough, thanks,” he tells Bokuto dryly. He squeezes your hip when your fingers brush against his forearm, and his tone turns teasing as his attention returns to you. “What do you think, baby?”

The mention of his thighs makes you tense, too. Yukie’s gushing compliments from the game punching straight through your chest and make your stomach twist into knots. And your good mood plummets. There’s a sour taste in the back of your mouth, and you aren’t quick enough to stop a sarcastic quip from slipping out.

“Why don’t you go ask Yukie? I’m sure she’ll tell you how thick they are.” Your tone is clipped, sharp, and you only realize you’ve said it out loud when you feel Kuroo stiffen behind you again, but by then it’s too late.

The tight grip he has on your waist loosens in surprise, Kuroo’s hands falling limply to his sides as he stares down at you in utter bewilderment. “What?” He sounds as hurt as he does confused. The softness of his tone strikes you between your ribs and makes you wince.

Horrified, all you can do is stare at the pair across the counter. Bokuto looks at you, then Kuroo, his eyes wide. Beside him, Akaashi just sighs, sending you a look that’s a clear cross between “you fucked up” and “I tried to tell you”, and for once you can’t even argue with that.

Unsure how to respond to the mess you’ve made, you send Akaashi a pleading look. If anyone can diffuse a situation before it starts, it’s Akaashi. He meets your gaze across the counter, his eyebrows furrowing just the slightest as he looks from you, to Kuroo, and back to you.

“Kou,” Akaashi says suddenly, breaking the tense silence by turning to his boyfriend, “why don’t we go see Konoha tonight? It’s been awhile since we saw him.”

“What?” Bokuto replies, confused, still staring at you and Kuroo owlishly. “Keiji, we just saw him yesterday—oh!” It takes him a second, but then he’s grabbing Akaashi’s hand and all but dragging the other man towards the door. “Right! Let’s go!” Bokuto glances at you and Kuroo over his shoulder, grinning. “You two have fun tonight! But not too much fun, or we won’t get the deposit back on—ouch!” He pouts, rubbing his shoulder where Akaashi smacked him.

“We’ll be back in an hour,” Akaashi says to you. Then, to Kuroo, “Not on the counter, please.”

The insinuation makes your eyes widen, and you shoot Akaashi a nasty look, which he ignores. Talk it out or fuck, is what he doesn’t say out loud, and you tense in anticipation despite the concoction of other emotions swirling in your stomach.

Kuroo makes a low sound in the back of his throat and leans forward again, caging you in as his palms press against the countertop on either side of you. With his chest flush against your back, you can feel how tense he is. “No promises.”

Rolling his eyes, Akaashi grabs his keys out of the bowl by the door and allows Bokuto to pull him out of the apartment. The door closes with more force than necessary, loud slam giving way to silence as soon as you and Kuroo are alone.

Pinned between him and the counter like this, you can feel the heat of his breath puffing against the side of your neck. His fingers flex against the counter top, and your gaze is drawn to the lean muscles of his arms on either side of you.

Yukie’s comments claw at you again, and you grimace. It’s a stupid thing to fixate on. You feel ridiculous for letting it bother you in the first place, and you’re sure Kuroo is confused. Maybe upset. You aren’t usually snappy with him. And Akaashi was right. It’s not fair for you to take your jealousy out on Kuroo.

Sighing, you ready yourself to apologize.

“Are you going to keep acting like a little brat, or are you going to tell me what’s wrong?” His lips brush against your skin as he speaks, touch soft compared to his tone. Your eyes widen as he presses himself up against your back. There isn’t an inch of space left between you. An open-mouthed kiss is placed just below your ear, and you shudder as his teeth graze the side of your neck. When you don’t respond, Kuroo sighs. “I’m not going to ask you again,” he warns you.

Kuroo leans forward, keeping you pinned to the counter as one of his hands drifts back to your waist. The pad of his thumb grazes your hip where your shirt has ridden up, teasing you. Your breath catches. His weight against your back is equal parts comforting and arousing. And Kuroo knows exactly how to touch you, how to turn you into a shivering mess until you’re practically begging for him.

It’s hard not to do exactly that when his breath is fanning over the side of your neck and his fingers are slipping beneath the hem of your shirt. Hot and wet, his lips graze a sensitive spot below your jaw. He doesn’t kiss you, but he’s close, and you feel the slightest twitch of his mouth. You can’t tell if it’s a smile or if your silence is pissing him off. The latter makes your pulse jump, your heart racing.

“Yukie was talking about you at the game,” you finally tell him. It sounds ridiculous when you say it out loud. Petty jealousy. But you can’t help it sometimes. Not when he’s all tousled hair and sly smirks that could drive anyone crazy.

Kuroo pauses. “Oh?” Warm lips place a soft kiss on your neck, and your head falls back against his shoulder, your eyes fluttering shut. An appreciative sound slips from his throat. Another kiss is pressed to your throat, hot and open-mouthed. Shivers run down your spine as his hips rock forward against your ass. “And what was she saying about me?”

His teeth scrape over your skin, just enough for you to feel it, and you jolt. A breathy whine escapes you before you can stop it. Kuroo chuckles, voice deeper than usual, and you try not to squirm as he nips at you, voice a low murmur as he speaks. “Don’t get shy on me now, kitten,” he taunts, “you were so mouthy a minute ago.”

When you take too long to answer, Kuroo’s fingers sneak beneath your shirt to pinch your hip. You yelp, squirming away from his fingers, but that only drives you further back against him. Grunting, Kuroo pins your hips against the counter. Already half-hard, he grinds against your ass lazily. The thin fabric of his sweats does nothing to hide his growing arousal, and warmth rushes through you, liquid heat pooling in your belly.

“Your arms,” you manage to tell him. He acknowledges you with a hum, sound muffled by his teeth and tongue as he continues to tease your neck. “And your thighs.” Your next admission is softer and a little bitter. “She wouldn’t stop staring at you.” A lot of girls stare at him. They always have. It shouldn’t still get to you, not when you’re the one he’s touching like this, hands wandering over your skin and his mouth sucking a bruise onto your neck.

There’s nothing to be jealous of when he’s already yours, and he seems intent on proving that to you.

“Yeah?” Kuroo asks. “Is that why you were trying to make me jealous after the game?” Smugness practically rolls from him in waves. His lips curl into a smirk. “Hmm? Trying to get me all riled up?”

You barely choke out a, “Yes.”

It surprises you when Kuroo’s mouth rips away from your neck. His touch is gone for an agonizing moment before reappearing on your cheek. The kiss he places there is softer this time, sweeter, and it makes your heart swell in your chest as he shifts to whisper in your ear. “You know I’m yours, right?” His hand is pressed against your abdomen now, fingers spread out to cover as much of you as possible. He waits until you nod and sighs. “Good.” He kisses your cheek again, then your jaw, his lips wandering back to your neck.

And just like that a switch seems to flip in him again. “And you’re mine,” Kuroo continues, voice lower than before. “Or do I have to remind you who you belong to?” His hand slides up your stomach, inching towards your chest.

“Tetsu,” you gasp, arching into his clever hand.

“What do you call me, kitten?” It’s more of a demand than a question, and you keen as his fingers slip beneath your bra. His calloused thumb brushes against your nipple before he pinches it between his fingers just to watch you squirm.

Breath catching, you wet your bottom lip. “Sir,” you correct yourself, letting him tilt your head to the side, positioning you just the way he wants you. Your easy compliance makes him grin. Kuroo grinds against your ass again, harder this time, and you squeeze your thighs together as heat licks across your spine.

“Good girl.”

His lips meet your jaw in a chaste kiss, and he squeezes your breast once, palming you before letting go. As his hand snakes out from beneath your shirt, you expect him to yank you around, force your head back and dominate you with a rough kiss, so you’re surprised when his touch leaves you entirely. Like before, his palms press against the top of the counter. Even his weight leaves your back, an inch of space between you that feels too wide and painfully close all at once. The heat of his breath tickles the back of your neck, and you shudder at his proximity, desperate for his touch.

There’s a whiny tone to your voice when you call out his name. “Tetsu,” you whimper, torn between begging for him and holding onto your stubborn pride. Anything to get him to touch you again. Already, there’s an ache forming in the pit of your stomach, and he’s hardly done anything yet.

When he ignores you, you huff. Taking matters into your own hands, you press your palms to the counter top and grind yourself back against his crotch. Satisfaction bursts in your chest as he makes a surprised sound in the back of his throat, but your pleased grin at catching him off-guard disappears as his hand comes down on your ass with a sharp slap.

This time, you yelp, mouth dropping open in a silent cry as his big hand squeezes your ass over your shorts. “So impatient,” Kuroo muses, clicking his tongue in disapproval. “Are you gonna behave for me, or are you gonna keep acting like a brat?” There’s a condescending edge to his tone, and you wish it didn’t turn you on as much as it did. And he knows it too.

As he waits for you to respond, Kuroo places his hands on your hips. His thumbs trace slow circles on your sides, slowly inching your shirt upwards as he fights the urge to rip the thin fabric over your head and take in every inch of your skin under his greedy touch.

And fuck if that’s not exactly what you want right now. It’s a miracle that you aren’t already trembling for him, hyper-aware of his every move. His heated touch. “I’ll behave,” you tell him. The chilled edge of the counter presses against your abdomen as he drags your top higher, but the cold is chased away by his palms ghosting over your sides.

“What was that, kitten?” You don’t have to look at him to know that he’s smirking, pleased with himself for making you such a mess already.

You wet your lips again. “I’ll behave, sir,” you repeat yourself, louder this time.

You’re rewarded with another pleased sound rumbling in his chest. “That’s my good girl,” Kuroo says again. His hands are on your ribs now, his thumbs tracing the underside of your lacy bra. Your shirt is carefully tugged off over your head before he carelessly tosses it to the floor, hands going right back to your painfully soft skin. Both of you revel in the contact.

Kuroo’s mouth is back on your neck immediately, lip wandering over every inch of newly bared skin available to him, all teeth and tongue as he peppers your skin with faint hickeys and love-bites. His teeth graze a sensitive spot between your neck and shoulder. His hands are everywhere. Palming your breasts. Drawing circles and shapes across your sides. Slipping between your legs to stroke your thighs and flirt with the hem of your shorts, teasingly close to where you really want him.

And then his hand wraps around your throat. He doesn’t choke you, grip loose enough for you to breathe, but the slightest pressure has goosebumps erupting across your skin. Your legs tremble as he squeezes just the slightest.

He nips at your exposed neck, and your breath hitches as two long fingers trace your slit over your shorts, applying just enough pressure to your clit for your hips to jump into his touch. Your head falls back against his shoulder again, your eyes squeezing shut as your mouth drops open.

A frustrated whine builds in your throat as he pulls away, but he’s quick to hush you, his hand slipping under the waist of your shorts to tug them down your hips. Left in just your panties, you rub your thighs together, flushing when you feel just how wet you are already. Your panties stick to your skin in a way that’s almost embarrassing, and you know it’ll only stroke Kuroo’s ego even harder.

“Fuck,” Kuroo murmurs as your panties slide down to your ankles. “I’ve been wanting to take these off you all damn day.” He leans back to get a good look at you, half-naked and dripping for him, and the sight goes right to his cock. “Such a cute little ass.” A hard spank to your right cheek makes you gasp, the sharp sting of pain making your eyes water. He’s quick to soothe the tender spot, chuckling, low and throaty, a deep baritone that hits you right between the legs.

“Do you have any idea how hard it was not to bend you over right in front of Bokuto and Akaashi?” he continues. “I bet you would have liked that, huh? Dirty little slut.” Kuroo’s hand is back between your legs, teasing your wet slit and sliding over your clit until you’re panting.

His grip shifts around your throat. “Fuck,” you mewl. “Tetsu—Tetsu, please.” You can’t finish the plea, a loud squeal cutting you off as he pinches your clit harshly between his fingers before letting go, pain mixed with the pleasure. “Oh, god.”

“Bend over, kitten,” he tells you, lips against your ear. A hand on your lower back guides you down to the counter, and you comply willingly, stretching up on your toes as your torso is pressed against the smooth surface. Kuroo strokes your cheek, his thumb brushing against your lower lip teasingly. “Don’t move.”

You stay perfectly still even as he backs away, legs quivering from the angle and the stretch, precariously balanced on your toes with the counter digging into your hips. None of that matters though. Not the mild discomfort or the cold seeping into your torso. All you can feel is Kuroo behind you, his gaze burning into your back as he trails the tips of his fingers over the curve of your ass, admiring you.

There’s something a bit like awe in his tone as he murmurs, “Fuck, look at you.” His hands ghost over your hips and thighs, like he isn’t sure where he wants to touch you. “So fucking pretty. Such a good slut for me.”

Kuroo’s hand slides up your back, his fingers tracing the dip of your spine until he reaches the base of your neck, where his long fingers wrap around you, forcing you down harder against the counter top. A low hum slips from his mouth as he looks down at you, sharp eyes drinking in the sight of you, how pretty you look underneath him as you try not to squirm. Leaning over you, he grinds his cock against the back of your thigh teasingly. “Is this what you want, kitten?” he asks you, breath hot against your ear. “You want me to bend you over the counter and fuck you senseless? Make you beg me to let you come all over my cock?”

He squeezes the back of your neck as a breathy sound escapes your mouth. Kuroo kisses your cheek. His lips brush against you as he murmurs, “Well that’s too fucking bad.”

You yelp as you’re suddenly yanked off the counter. Hands latch onto your hips as soon as your feet are on the ground, and you’re ripped around so that you’re facing Kuroo for the first time since he came up behind you earlier. His hazel eyes are almost golden in the kitchen light, and there’s a feral glint in his gaze as he looks at you. “You wanna be naughty? Tease me?” he asks, leaning in until his lips are hovering just above yours. “Come on, kitten, you should know better than that.”

His hand wraps around your throat again, tighter this time, and you’re forced to follow him as he steps away from the counter. Kuroo doesn’t kiss you as he guides you through his apartment, making you walk backwards so you can’t see where he’s taking you.

“What was it that Yukie was saying about my thighs earlier?” he asks you. “What did she say that made you so damn mad?”

“Tetsu,” you whimper.

“You know you aren’t very subtle, kitten.” Belatedly, you realize he’s taken you to his room. Kuroo throws the door shut behind you, but doesn’t bother to lock it. Your cunt clenches at the thought of Bokuto or Akaashi walking in, but Kuroo is quick to drag your attention back to him. “You think I didn’t see you staring at me the entire game? You couldn’t take your damn eyes off me.”

Kuroo lets go of your neck, his hand trailing up to your jaw as he drags his thumb across your bottom lip. He watches you as his hand falls back to his side, and his lips curve upwards as he fists the back of his shirt, yanking the plain t-shirt off in one smooth motion. You can’t help the way your gaze drops to his bare chest and stomach, greedy eyes taking in each defined muscle from years of playing volleyball.

Your gaze only slides lower as his sweatpants drop to the floor as well, leaving him in only a pair of boxers that leave his thick thighs on display. Fuck, if you weren’t dripping before, you definitely are now.

So busy staring at his legs, you don’t notice that his smile is all teeth.

Kuroo drops down onto the edge of the bed, and you gasp as he grabs your hips. Yanking you forward, you’re pulled down to him. Chest to chest. Not an inch of space left between you as he situates you over his leg, forcing you to straddle his thigh. “What were you thinking about, hmm?” he asks as you steady yourself on his broad shoulders, feet barely finding purchase on the floor. Heat sinks into you as his thumbs tease the lacy edge of your underwear. As if to taunt you, he leans in close, breath fanning over your lips. “Was it this?”

With that mocking tone, he shifts beneath you, his hands tight on your hips as he grinds you down against his thigh. The rough drag against your clit makes your eyes flutter shut. Your head drops forward against his shoulder, a shuddering breath falling from your parted lips.

“You wanna fuck yourself on my thigh, kitten?” To emphasize his question, his flexes beneath you, pressing harder against your wet cunt. The angle is just right to have him applying pressure perfectly to your clit. When you try to grind against him, Kuroo grabs your hips, holding you in place. And, when you try it again, he lets go of one of your hips long enough give you a warning smack on the outside of your thigh. The sting makes you shudder. “Dirty girl,” he coos, reaching around to squeeze your ass.

“Please,” you whimper as he mouths at the curve of your jaw. Kuroo kisses across your neck, nipping at you as he works his way down to your shoulder. One of his hands slides between your spread thighs to feel how wet you are, and you have to bite your lip to keep from whimpering as he laughs. You jerk, arching into his teasing touch.

“Fuck, you’re wet,” he notes as his fingers slip beneath the damp, flimsy fabric of your panties. Kuroo hums, pleased at the way your arousal coats his fingers.

He circles your clit slowly, each touch sending little pleasurable shocks through you. The knot in your stomach only coils tighter. “Asshole,” you bite out, choking on a moan as he pulls his hand away, leaving you more frustrated than you were a minute ago.

Your tone only gets another laugh from him, deeper and darker than before. “Ouch,” he says, brushing your hair away from your neck, “kitty’s got claws tonight.” His hand wraps around your throat again, long fingers curling around your fragile neck. You still, inhaling sharply, and Kuroo groans as he feels your pulse start to race beneath his hand.

He pulls you further against his chest, naked skin pressed flush against yours. “I thought you said you were going to behave for me,” he reminds you, leaning in to kiss the corner of your mouth. As his lips trail across your cheek, he shifts his thigh underneath you, dragging himself against your pussy slowly. Kuroo stops when he reaches your ear; his grip on your throat tightens, squeezing enough to steal your breath. “You that jealous? Or do you want me to punish you?”

The question is almost a low growl, and you shiver, thighs squeezing around his muscular one. “Tetsu,” you gasp around the intoxicating grip he has on your throat. “Please, I can’t—I need you,” if what you finally manage to spit out, thoughts muddled and head heavy with arousal.

“Well, you better get to it then,” he tells you, adjusting his grip on your throat. His other hand squeezes tightly around your hip, fingers digging into your skin hard enough to bruise. When you don’t move, he bounces his leg. It tears a moan from your chest. “Come on, you know what to do. Why don’t you give me a little show?”

It’s hard to breathe, let alone move. His presence is suffocating in the best way. The hand around your throat. His thigh between yours. The feel of his skin beneath your fingers and the steady beat of his heart where his chest is pressed to yours. All of it has you on edge.

The need swirling in your stomach forces you to move. A slow rhythm picks up as you slide over his thigh, grinding down on him. The tight grip you have on his shoulders is the only thing holding you up, and you shudder at the friction against your swollen clit. A sound of approval leaves Kuroo, and he hums against the side of your jaw, grip tightening just the slightest around your neck.

The grip he has on your hip loosens suddenly. His fingers slides along your side teasingly, his touch so soft that it makes your heart squeeze. You press your chest into his touch as he palms your breast. Deft fingers make quick work of the flimsy fabric, his hand slipping underneath to pinch and roll your nipple just like before. It isn’t long before he’s turned you into a quivering, moaning mess.

The ache between your legs only worsens with each slow roll of your hips against his thigh. The friction is intoxicating, but it isn’t enough. It isn’t what you need. Right now, you want to feel him surrounding you, holding you down as he whispers filthy things in your ear, making you moan for him. You want the pressure of his cock inside you, stretching you, the roughness of his fingers circling your clit until you’re so sensitive you have to beg him to stop.

“That’s it,” he mumbles. “Be a good girl for me and maybe I’ll let you cum.”

Little garbled pleas of his name fall from your lips as he pinches your nipple again, the sharp sting making you lurch forward against his chest.

Releasing your breast, he reaches around your back, fiddling with the clasp of your bra for a second before the fabric comes undone, straps sliding down your arms. You’re barely aware of him prying your fingers from his shoulder and tossing the fabric aside, but when he crushes you against his broad chest, the heat that surrounds you is overwhelming.

Kuroo draws you into a kiss, hot and heavy enough to make your head spin. Letting go of your throat, both of his hands make their way back to your hips, helping you grind down against him harder, faster, your rhythm picking up speed as your legs start to twitch and tremble.

He smacks your ass, gripping tightly and kneading your cheek. The sting distracts you as his other hand disappears beneath your soaked panties. Teasingly, he drags his fingers against your cunt, slick fluid clinging to his skin. “Look at you making a sloppy mess of my leg already.” He chuckles, rubbing two fingers against your clit to make you gasp. “And I’ve barely fucking touched you yet.”

The pace he sets up is hard and fast, determined to send you hurtling towards the edge. Your thighs clench around his, your fingers digging into his shoulders so tightly you swear you might break the skin. By now, your eyes are squeezed shut, your mouth open as you pant and gasp his name. You press yourself tighter to his chest. Sweat-slicked skin makes it easy to slide over his thigh as he plays with your clit.

By now, you’re so turned on that it almost hurts. Each harsh pinch of his fingers on your clit sends shocks of pleasure ripping through you, the coil in your lower belly winding tighter and tighter with every roll of your hips. He slaps your ass suddenly, still thumbing your clit, and the combined sensations make you choke on a moan. Between his fingers and the steady rocking of your hips, you’re going to cum. And you’re going to cum hard.

Kuroo forces you right to the edge; and then he takes it away.

You almost sob as he pulls his fingers out of your panties, Kuroo quick to grab your hips and hold you still, keep you from chasing his touch.

“No,” you gasp, trying to grind down on his thigh despite his iron grip. The lack of stimulation makes you whine, tears welling in your eyes. “No. Tetsu. Oh god, sir, please.”

He releases one of your hips to brush his fingers against your cheek, though the gentleness doesn’t last. Kuroo grips your chin between his fingers, tilting your chin to make you look at him. “I did say I’d have to punish you, kitten,” he reminds you. There’s an apology in his tone, but his wicked smile says he’s anything but. His thumb traces your bottom lip. “Don’t pout. You did so well.” You’re drawn into a sultry kiss that ends too soon. His words are muffled against your lips. “You’re gonna take me so fucking well. Just like a good girl. My good girl.”

“Let me make it up to you,” he says, but it sounds like a taunt.

It’s the only warning you get before his hands are on your ass, gravity shifting beneath you. Kuroo lurches off the bed, hauling you against his chest with ease. Your legs wrap around his waist reflexively, hands desperately grasping at his shoulders to hold yourself up. The bite of your fingernails on his skin makes him groan,

He squeezes your ass appreciatively before slamming you up against the nearest wall.

It knocks the air out of your lungs, and you wince, but Kuroo doesn’t you a moment to breathe before he devours you. His lips are feverish against yours, his tongue in your mouth and his teeth nipping at you until you’re whining and grinding against his cock. Spread open like this, you can only moan into his mouth as the tip brushes against your clit through your underwear.

For once, he doesn’t waste time teasing you, both of you too riled up to wait as he shoves his underwear down. You’re squirming by now, trying to pull him closer with your legs around his hips. A low groan tears from his throat as he shoves your panties aside, his thick cock rubbing against your dripping pussy.

Kuroo’s cock shoves inside of you easily, you’re so wet for him. The stretch burns in the best way, pure ecstasy ripping through you. You whimper as you struggle to take all of him, and your cunt clenches around him so tightly that he tears his mouth from yours to hiss and curse.

“You like that, kitten?” he asks you, groaning as he slaps one hand against the wall to steady himself. The other digs into your thigh. “You like it when it hurts? So fucking naughty.” He presses a sloppy kiss against the side of your neck.

He fucks you roughly. The wall scrapes against your back when he moves, and the little sounds you make only feed his fast pace. He’s perfect inside of you, hard and hot and thick enough to pound against your sweet spot with every harsh thrust of his hips. The wet slap of his cock filling you and your breathy panting and moaning are the only sounds in the apartment, so loud that your neighbors are sure to hear.

You tremble as Kuroo fucks you, only able to cling to him as pleasure makes you dizzy. You’re so close. You’re so, so close, and he must know it with the way you’re tightening around him with every roll of your hips.

His teeth dig into the curve of your neck and shoulder, and you yelp, fisting at his hair. He moans as you pull on the messy strands clenched in your fist, and his cock shoves inside of you even harder. “You wanna act like a little slut?” he pants against your ear, hand coming down on the outside of your thigh. “I’ll treat you like one. You think Daichi could make you feel this good?”

You moan, barely able to shake your head. You don’t want Daichi. You’ve never wanted Daichi. “Just you,” you choke out.

“Good girl.” And then his fingers are on your clit, rubbing tight, fast circles onto your swollen nerves.

Pleasure rips through you as you cum, white-hot and electric. The knot in your stomach snaps as your orgasm hits you, slamming the breath from your lungs. Your hips jerk between him and the wall. Your limbs tremble, heavy, and you shudder as you drop your head against his shoulder, biting down to keep yourself from shouting. The grip you have on his back slips, and your fingernails rake down his back, marking him up.

“Shit,” he sneers. Kuroo fucks you through it, grinding against you harder as your pussy clenches around his cock with every thrust, each rougher than the last. Calloused fingers continue to roll over your clit, though not as frantic as before. His thumb draws lazy circles against your sensitive nerves, swirling and playing with your clit until you’re shaking again.

Whimpering, you try to squirm away from his hand as the pleasure becomes overwhelming, stimulation bordering on too much, too fast until it hurts. “Tetsu,” you gasp, choking out his name. “I can’t—”

He slaps your thigh once. Twice. Then grabs your ass and grinds you against his cock, reaching so deep inside you. “No, no, no,” he mumbles nonsensically. “Not yet. We’re not done yet. Not until you give me one more.” Your walls flutter around him, slick walls sucking him in. “Fuck, that’s it, kitten. Just like that.” He wets his lips, mouth on your neck. “Cum for me again. Such, a good girl.”

Kuroo’s hand wraps around your throat again, squeezing hard. You choke, unable to breathe, and your eyes squeeze shut. You pull his hair. Rake your fingernails down his back. Desperate for anything to hold onto as your muscles twitch and tense. You’re so close. You’re so fucking close.

Squealing, you flinch as his clever fingers sneak back to your clit, determined to make you cum one more time.

And you do, clenching around him beautifully, pussy gripping him tight. All you can do is shake and gasp as another orgasm tears through you, the coil in your gut snapping for the second time tonight. Dark spots float across your vision as you cum on his cock, Kuroo moaning against your ear as he follows you. Hot, thick fluid fills you up as he continues to thrust inside of you, drawing out your release.

You gasp as his hand leaves your throat, panting and dizzy.

Kuroo cradles you against his chest, careful not to drop you as he presses his lips against your temple, murmuring words too low for you to hear. He pulls out slowly, his cum dripping down your thighs as he carries you to his bed.

It’s a few minutes later, when you’re curled up beside him and drowsy, that you remember everything from earlier.

“I’m sorry for trying to use Daichi to make you jealous,” you murmur against the crook of his neck, eyes fluttering shut as his fingers lazily caress your skin, drawing mindless patterns across your back as you cuddle against his side. “I don’t…” you bite your lip as you trail off, and Kuroo’s arm tightens around your waist almost protectively. “I don’t want you to feel like that. I don’t want you to think you can’t trust me. And I don’t want you to think I don’t trust you.”

Your voice is barely a whisper by the end, words breathed against his chest and swallowed up by the stillness of the room.

Kuroo tilts his chin to rest his head against yours. His fingers still against your side as he glances at you, focusing on the curve of your jaw in the half-light. “It’s okay,” he tells you just as softly. Gently, he pulls you a little closer, heaving a loud, obnoxious sigh. “I get it, he’s just so dummy thick. How could anyone resist that?”

Trying not to laugh, you weakly slap at his bare chest, but Kuroo just grabs your hand and smoothly laces his fingers with yours. “Stop,” you whine, tucking your flushed face against his shoulder. Warm lips press against your knuckles, and you can feel him trying not to laugh underneath you.

“Am I not thick enough for you, kitten?” he continues, voice dripping with faux hurt. You roll your eyes, peeking up at him only to find a pout on his lips. At your silence, Kuroo props himself up on his elbow so that he can look at you. “Damn, maybe Bokuto’s right, I shouldn’t skip leg day tomorrow. Shit, maybe I should go right now—”

He moves to get off the bed and you groan, unamused. “Tetsu.” You catch his hand before he can go far, and he lets you pull him down on top of you. “Stop teasing me.”

“You love it,” he murmurs, pressing a sloppy kiss against your cheek. “You know, maybe Yukie should compliment my thighs more. You’re pretty hot when you’re jealous.” His lips move to your neck, and you try not to roll your eyes again. As if he didn’t just fuck the hell out of you because he was jealous. Before you get the chance, Kuroo leans back to look at you. His knuckles slide against your cheek. “You okay? Need anything.” You shake your head and he kisses your cheek. “That’s my good girl.” He’s quiet for a minute. “You know I’m yours, right?”

Heart clenching in your chest, you murmur an affirmative.

“Good.”

As he settles back down, you let him cover you like a clingy, weighted blanket, his touch comforting as he wraps himself around you.

The sweet moment ends abruptly. The apartment door opens and closes loudly, a warning that your roommates are home. It’s quiet for a moment, but then Akaashi’s loud “son of a bitch!” when he sees your clothes on the floor makes your eyes fly open.

You had been having a quiet evening to yourself, safe in the knowledge that your werewolf boyfriend was out on a hunt with his buds and all your work had been done and dusted. You were free to have a peaceful weekend all to yourself filled with self care and trashy movies.

Your dear boyfriend, Kim Namjoon, you had met him in college when he was a senior and you were just a bubbly new freshman.

You had instantly clicked and went forth to become the closest pair in all of Saint Wilson’s Arts University.

Enamoured by his height and intellect since the very first interaction, you had spent a whole year and a half crushing on him like a fourteen year old schoolgirl.

He had told you about his supernatural genes a week before asking you out on a date. And you had been together since.

Werewolves and vampires weren’t unknown to you, you were aware of their existence, but you had never thought that you would meet one.

You adjusted to Namjoon’s wolf characteristics better than you thought possible.

Sure he was warm like a furnace, and yeah he did have a terrible habit of spending hours scenting you so that anyone within 50 feet of you would know you’re taken.

Despite his somewhat difficult behaviour you loved him with every fibre of your being. He looked at you like you had hung the stars in the sky and he swore he would give you anything your heart desired.

Well... except one thing.

Ever since you had been told about the mating behaviour of werewolves and the monthly period of sexual craze that they were subjected to, you had wanted to help Joon out with his.

You had seen documentaries and read papers on the topic. You had learned everything there was to know about werewolf behaviour yet their strange heats boggled your mind more than anything else.

The sheer amount of pain and need that they felt every single month for a whole week, it saddened you to know that you could be helping your boyfriend out but he wouldn’t let you.

Instead choosing to tie himself up with heavy, blessed chains and have his six best friends keep watch.

You had given up after trying for a year straight, deciding that he would entrust you with helping him with his heats when he was comfortable with the idea.

Namjoon was a big man, standing tall at 6 feet with broad shoulders, heavy biceps and sculpted legs, he was scared of hurting you while giving in to his most primal instincts to claim you.

He had chosen you as his mate, his one love for his one life, and being the alpha’s son it was harder for him to control his needs.

So being near fragile, human you when all he could think of was sinking his fangs into your neck and breeding you was out of the question.

Coming back to your peaceful evening, you had just cuddled up with your fluffy blankets and a mug of hot cocoa when you heard the bell ring, the shrill noise resounding through your home.

You weren’t expecting anyone but knowing how impulsive your friends were you got up to open the door nonetheless.

Imagine your surprise when you see your giant of a boyfriend standing outside the threshold of your home, sweat dripping down his large body as he radiated heat.

Your brows furrowed in confusion, “Joon? What happened? Weren’t you out on a hunt, are you hurt?!”

Concern washed over you as you scanned his frame to look for any possible wounds.

Namjoon shook his head, movements tight and controlled, “No Y/N, I’m fine. I had to leave the hunt halfway.”

“What? Why?” you questioned.

“My heat arrived early.”

Oh.

“Ohhhh...” you thought to yourself as realisation sank into you.

“Joon, sweetie is it okay for you to be here? Did you need something before the isolation?” You couldn’t fathom why he would be here if his heat was upon him.

Unless...

No, he wouldn’t. You shouldn’t get your hopes up.

Suddenly you realised that he was still standing outside your shared apartment like a stranger, you stepped aside gesturing at him to come in.

As he stepped inside you closed the door. You noticed how his movements were stiff and rigid, an aura of tension clouding him.

“Is it alright for you to be back home, Joon?” you said softly, “Y’know, considering your uh... situation?”

You could hear his breathing in the silent room; slow, deep and controlled.

“Y/N, what if I told you that I wanted to mark you right now?” he said in a sudden rush.

You heard your sharp inhale, the question surprising you. But you knew the answer already, it was easy.

“I’d let you. Why?” You said without hesitation, carefully selecting your words you asked, “Do you want to?”

“I wasn’t expecting my heat to arrive this early, I had no idea why it happened in the middle of a hunt... But then I understood when I was standing outside the door.”

He said, “Y/N you’re ovulating.”

“Oh... wow, Joon are you trying to say what I think you’re saying?”

He looked at you as if he was calculating what to say next so as not to scare you away from him.

“Y/N, my wolf refuses anyone else, I know you know of how I used other bitches from the pack to keep myself sated during my previous hunts,” he said casually, the word bitch had very different connotations for humans and werewolves you had come to know.

You could feel your heart twinge in jealousy.

It was a sensitive topic for you, on one hand you really wanted Namjoon to be as comfortable and safe during his heats even if it meant sleeping with someone else; but it also really, really hurt to picture him in bed with the other gorgeous women of his pack.

You were insecure of your mundane genes, often comparing yourself with the strong and fierce she-wolves who had helped your boyfriend through his heats.

Namjoon spoke softly, “The past few months my wolf has been rejecting anyone who isn’t you. He wants to mate you, mark you as ours. Your ovulation must’ve sped up my heat. I can’t go on anymore without making you mine Y/N... for good.”

You were feeling strangely warm, you had obviously had sex with your boyfriend but you knew heat sex was in an entirely different league of its own.

All you could do now was nod your consent.

Namjoon stepped towards you, hands reaching out to capture your waist as his head lowered to your face.

His cheek grazing against yours, his lips brushed your earlobe as he mumbled into your ear, “Let me fuck a baby into you, Y/N. Let me breed you, please.”

You whined unconsciously at his words. Your belly warm and heat seeping through your panties. You whispered back, “Y-yes.”

With a swift change in demeanour his lips came crashing down to yours, large and calloused hands grabbing roughly at your hips as if afraid to let you go.

He growled into the kiss, his usually soft lips now tasting different because of the sheer dominance that radiated off of him.

His tongue swept against yours, making you moan wildly into his mouth, your own smaller hands grabbing onto his broad shoulders, fingers finding purchase in the thick, soft hair that curled gently at the nape of his neck.

His hand roamed south to the flesh of your ass as he cupped them with his hands and squeezed a cheek, tearing a gasp from your mouth at the surprising gesture.

Begrudgingly he pulled away from the kiss, releasing soft pants courtesy of your little makeout sesh, “Y/N I’ll ask you again, sweetheart. Are you absolutely sure you want me to mark you?”

You didn’t know if you had it in you to verbally say it, so you nodded shyly.

One of his hands came up to your chin as he gently angled your face upwards to gaze directly into his eyes.

“Use your words angel, a nod isn’t consent,” he rasped.

“I want you, Joon,” you whimpered as your eyes fell to the floor once again, unable to face your boyfriend as you openly declared your need for him.

“I want to be yours, only yours.”

You felt, rather than saw the smile creeping onto his expression.

He cupped the backs of your thighs as he hoisted you up to wrap your legs around his waist. His bulge pressing against your core. You whimpered at the soft brushes of his crotch against your clothed clit with each step he took towards your bedroom.

You giggled, the rush of hormones making you feel lightheaded as you whispered into his ear, “You grew really fast, Joonbug. Happy to see me?”

Namjoon chuckled under his breath as he looked at the spot where your cores met, and then when he brought his gaze up to meet yours you could see the shift in personality.

Your little puppy was gone. This man right here in front of you was all wolf.

He smirked at you before he answered softly, “That’s just half-hard, angel.”

Your eyes grew comically wide, surprise etched onto your expression as you once again looked down to the bulge in his trousers.

That’s what it usually looked like when you fooled around before.

You looked back up at him with questioning as he answered your unasked question, “I... change, during my heats. A lot of things about my body are going to be different when I’m like this. But I promise I’ll be very, very gentle.” He said with a soothing smile. His voice calming you down even when loaded with lust.

Slowly his arms fell to your sides as he brought your (his) sweatshirt over your head and threw it aside, followed by your shorts and then your panties.

It felt weird, being naked in front of a fully clothed Namjoon. But it also somehow made you feel safe, as if you could trust him with every piece of yourself.

Namjoon then laid you down on the bed, his hands travelling from your neck down to your heaving breasts.

His mouth working at your jaw as his skilled hands massaged the flesh of your chest, palming your nipples as his fingers tweaked and pulled at the stiff peaks.

He kissed the spot at the base of your throat that had you gushing wetness out onto the sheets. His fingers skimmed across your stomach as he finally, finally touched your core, drawing a surprised gasp from you.

His middle finger swept across your sensitive nub as he spread your juices around, stroking it and sending jolts of pleasure through your nerves.

Two fingers sank into your warm opening as he gasped at the feeling of your tight grip around him. Slowly pushing them in, in an attempt to prepare you for what’s to come.

You could hear the wet, squelching noises emanating from your cunt as Namjoon’s fingers fastened their pace.

He was having trouble tearing his gaze away from the view, his thick fingers thrusting into your pretty, quivering pussy. Creamy juices flowing down your thighs as you gasped his name softly in a medley of moans and whimpers.

You tried to straighten out your legs to cope with the intense pleasure building at the pit of your belly, warmth flowing through your body as you felt yourself get closer to that familiar edge.

Namjoon’s fingers curled as the tips grazed against the spot inside you that had you seeing stars every time.

You could vaguely make out the sound of his voice, as if you were listening through glass, “Cum for me, angel. Feel my fingers inside your filthy, little cunt and cum for me.” That was all it took for the dam inside you to burst as you groaned in pleasure. Your cunt quivering around your boyfriend’s fingers as he helped you ride out your orgasm.

The both of you waited a few moments, listening to each other’s breathing when you sat up straight and leaned foward to whisper in his ear, “Come on, it’s my turn to help you out.”

Namjoon, to your surprise, shook his head in refusal. “If you suck me off I’ll finish in ten seconds and the only place I’m cumming tonight is in your pussy, baby girl.”

You could feel the goosbumps rising on your arms at his words. He reached out and pushed you down once again, “I’ve got to prepare you well if you’re gonna take my cock, sweetheart,” he said as he ran his fingers down your torso, “So lie back, and let me taste you.”

You could feel him grinning against your thighs, his hot breath on your messy cunt making you shiver in anticipation.

His tongue swiped a kitten lick up and down your lips as a single finger pressed against your abused clit. The warm and wet appendage nudging at your opening as you gasped at the sensation.

You reached down to your boyfriend’s head between your thighs and roughly grasped strands of his hair in an attempt to cope with the overstimulation.

Soft, long strokes against your core sending shocks down to your toes as you arched your back against the sheets. Already reeling from your previous orgasm you could feel yourself reaching the end once again, much faster this time.

You felt incredibly hot, sweat forming on your forehead as Namjoon teased your clit with his mouth, gently nipping the bud with his teeth.

His hot tongue poked at your entrance and ever so gently eased in, his nose bumping against your bundle of nerves making you gasp at the sudden intrusion.

He looked up at you with his mouth still on your core, smirking and the next thing you knew you were bursting with pleasure, hot liquid splashing on your thighs as your legs jerked violently through your climax.

You could hear Namjoon’s faint chuckles, “Whoa Y/N, did I just make you squirt?” You blushed and covered your eyes with your fingers to escape his shit-eating grin. But his strong arms pulled your much smaller hands away from your face as he sat up towards you and attacked your neck once again.

His soft, plump lips mouthing at your collarbones as he drew marks across the skin. Blood red splotches that were sure to turn purple the next day. Namjoon murmured softly, “You’re mine. All of you, it’s all mine. Isn’t it, Y/N?”

You hummed in respone as you threw your head back and relished in the feeling of his breath on your neck as he bit and marked you to his desire.

He pulled back after what felt like minutes, the faint light of the moon creating a halo behind his back.

His large frame towering over yours as he spread your legs with a grip on your thighs.

He rushed to pull his t-shirt off his sculpted torso as you fumbled with the buttons of his trousers, helping him to discard the last piece of clothing keeping you from him.

The sight of his naked cock drew an audible gasp from you, it was double the size you were used to and angry red in colour. The weeping slit at the head thoroughly wetting his shaft with precum.

Namjoon touched your cheek gently to calm you, he rubbed his cock up and down your messy cunt. You leaned into his palm as he finally nudged at your opening.

You tried hard not to scream as he pushed the rest of it in, pain and pleasure intermingling as you felt like you were losing your virginity all over again.

He leaned his face down close to yours and whispered, “It’s okay, angel. Relax, take your time and get used to me, okay?”

You mumbled a small, “Mhm, okay.” Your voice straining as you felt like you were being split open. Minutes flew by and gradually you grew used to Namjoon’s size and girth inside you.

You mumbled, “You can move now, Joon.”

You could see the result of holding himself back in his expression and the way his arms shook around you.

You knew being so close to you and still not going feral was extremely difficult for him, let alone impossible for younger wolves.

But you also knew that he would never do anything to hurt you, even if it meant depriving himself of his most primal instincts instead of fucking you senseless.

He nodded in response and gave you an experimental thrust. You couldn’t help but moan at the sensation. His cock was so large you were stuffed full with no escape.

But you wanted more. You were done with being treated like a glass doll, you wanted him to let go and fuck you like he would any other she-wolf from his pack.

“I thought werewolves were tougher than this when they fucked. Or is it just you who’s scared to hurt me?” you piped up, feeling unusually feisty.

Namjoon looked up at you, his eyes piercing into yours, expression hardening upon hearing your remark. “You wanted to fuck a werewolf so bad,” he spoke softly, “Well then, take it like a big girl, Y/N.”

He thrust into you exceptionally hard, your body moving up against the mattress because of the force. His deliciously thick cock dragging against the soft, wet muscles of your cunt as he buried his nose into the crook of your neck.

Your eyes rolled back into your skull while you tried to process the immense pleasure running through you. Namjoon’s hands gripping your thighs, his balls slapping against your ass as he pushed his cock in and out of you.

You could feel every ridge, every nerve of Namjoon’s cock plunging into your pussy.

The squelching, wet noises emanating from your sex making you feel even more perverse, the obscene sounds filling your ears as you turned wetter by the second at the feel of his blunt cockhead buried deep inside you, massaging the spot that made you see stars.

Pleasure shooting through your veins and warming your belly as you felt the mixture of your juices and his precum slide down your thighs and the cheeks of your ass.

Rough, calloused hands gripping at the soft flesh of your hips with such force you were sure to find purple bruises littered the next day.

“J-joon, please make me cum. I wanna cum so bad, I can’t take it anymore! Please!” you garbled through the impact of his powerful thrusts, the sheer speed and force slamming you back into the bed with each movement of his hips.

You could hear him chuckle in your ear, the bastard.

“Tsk-tsk Y/N, be a good girl for me. You’ll cum when I want you to.” He grunted, “For now, you’re just gonna have to take it.”

A whine of frustration left your lips, the sinful noises combining with Namjoon’s almost painfully big cock assaulting your poor pussy.

You could hear your boyfriend whisper above you, “I wish you could look at your pussy right now. Oh god you’re so swollen, you’re dripping all over my cock like the little cumslut you are, waiting for me to give you my seed.”

You clenched around his cock at the thought of being filled with cum.

His cum.

“Fuck! You just got so much tighter, angel. You like that, huh? You want me to fuck my cum into you, breed you like my obedient little bitch? Gonna fill you up with my cum so you can carry my pups, my pretty little whore.”

You whined at his words, just the image of your poor, abused cunt filled with his thick cum had you salivating.

To your surprise, he had you flipped over and onto your stomach in the matter of a second.

Your ass raised instinctively while he gripped your hips with one hand with the other secure on your neck, squeezing just lightly enough to let you breathe but tight enough for you to know who owned you.

His hips snapped into yours rhythmically, his groans falling like music in your ears. Your tits bounced against your chest with each thrust he threw upon you. His balls slapped against your clit with every rough thrust, adding more to your already throbbing core.

You could feel the hot tears run down your cheeks, the overwhelming pleasure becoming too much for you to process.

The luxurious ache returning to your core you moaned his name without a care for who listened.

You could feel his hot breath nearing your neck as he drew his face close to your shoulder.

His teeth sank into the flesh as you screamed in pleasure and pain. Searing hot shocks ran through your veins as Namjoon licked at the thin rivulets of blood running down your skin. The tears flowing once again as you gasped from the thrusts.

The thought of being marked and belonging to your man had you squeezing against the large cock inside you. Namjoon had stood you up so now your back was pressed up against his hard chest while he pistoned into your thoroughly used cunt.

The hand that was once at your hip came down to rub at your neglected clit as you gasped and moaned in pleasure, the incredible pressure inside you building rapidly. His hand at your throat gently squeezing, just the way you liked it.

Namjoon’s fingers were furiously rubbing at your nub using your combined juices as lube. You had barely the energy to mumble, “Joon, I-I’m cumming! Please, baby I wanna cum so bad, please let me cum!”

You knew you sounded pathetic but to your fortune Namjoon was close to his end too, his grip having gone considerably harsher and cock largened even more inside you.

“Let go for me, slut.” he growled into your ear as you crashed once again, this time even harder thanks to the added stimulation, knowing that you were marked and now rightfully intertwined with the love of your life.

Namjoon came with a grotesque growl, hot, thick cum spurting inside you as he laid you down once again.

Hovering over you as he shot rope upon rope of his seed inside your warm, welcoming cunt.

After a minute when he was sure he was all drained out he removed his cock and instead plugged two fingers inside you, saying with an apologetic, “Gotta make sure we don’t spill.”

You giggled at his strange, instinctive behaviour.

“You know that’s not how it works, don’t you?” you said with a tired smile.

He looked at you with overwhelming love and tenderness, that favourite smile of yours painting across his beautiful face.

There isn’t much that bothers Jungkook, not by a long shot. He’s a particular kind of man; he takes everything with a grain of salt so he usually isn’t bothered by anything a simple grunt has to say about him. He is however annoyed at the way this grunt speaks of you. All the nasty things he’s got to say about you, how he thinks a cock hungry slut like yourself is fine with anyone as long as they can fuck you stupid. And Jungkook doesn’t like that one bit as he runs the tip of his tongue over his lips. It does nothing to quell the simmering anger that sits beneath the twitch of his fingertips. He can hear a few snickers here and there others throwing in their own thoughts.

Hoseok can see the glazed look that fills Jungkook’s eyes the longer their subordinates speak ill of you. He’s known the younger long enough to understand his limits and this was a limit. It’s a peculiar thing to Hoseok the way Jungkook is with you, he’s soft and sweet but not all the time. And Hoseok will admit he’s walked in on his fair share of your sexual escapades to know that you and Jungkook were something completely different. If he were to compare your relationship to anything he’d say a modern day Harley Quinn and the Joker except with a whole lot less crazy. You two had your moments but he hadn’t seen anything too extreme, yet. The fact was Jungkook ran the biggest underground operations in the world and you, well you were his biggest asset.

Hoseok knew you were good at your job, better than most almost as if you’d been born for it. Now he isn’t saying that you don’t play the ditzy slut well because you do but he knows you’re much, much more than that. You let the underlings believe you’re nothing but a dumb bimbo who likes to sit all pretty in Jungkooks lap when he so pleases. Let them believe you’re nothing but huge tits with a pussy made of gold to have their boss keep you around like he does. It’s laughable really, especially to Hoseok because he knows you.

He knows that Jungkook is the brawn, the face of the operation but you were the brain. You were the reason Jungkook now sat in a gilded throne like the king of an empire when he came from nothing, and he’d done it all for you. Because if Jungkook was king then you were the queen, his queen and Hoseok respected that. So who is he to try and stop Jungkook from harming easily dispensable nobodies? Truth is he could care less but recruiting is slow right now and he doubts Jimin would have anyone ready to replace the empty positions. He’s sighing before he can think better of it, but as luck has it you come waltzing in.

There’s a distinct click clack that comes from your Louboutin heels every time you step foot in the massive warehouse Jungkook runs the operation from. In fact the previous voices have gone quiet as you easily make your way to the back headed straight for the second floor where Jungkook sits and oversees the work of those beneath him. The long sleeved v-neck bodycon dress you wear molds to your figure in a way that grabs the attention of all of those who’d been previously lusting after you, but this outfit is for Jungkook.

You waste no time taking your rightful place in his lap, both legs thrown over his thighs as you sit sideways to better wrap your arms around his neck. Today he’s wearing red, a silk patterned shirt tucked into his pants with nearly all the buttons undone. His chest is out little glimpses of ink peak out from where the shirt lies open for your viewing pleasure. His fingers have found the slight sliver of skin that lies just above the top of your thigh high boots and below the hem of your dress. He’s quick to draw patterns on the only skin available to him, your gaze falls to the necklace that sits pretty at his collar. A thin silver chain you’ve seen once or twice, it makes him look sexier.

“Hello Hoseok.” you chirp never taking your eyes off Jungkook.

“____, to what do we owe the pleasure?” he asks.

“Can’t I just enjoy the company of my boyfriend and his right hand man?”

“No, there’s always something with you.” he sighs gaze moving to Jungkook who has begun to mouth at your neck as you giggle into his ear.

“You guys are weirdly attached at the hip, it’s kinda gross.” Hoseok shudders, before snapping his attention to the sound of voices making their way closer to them. Jungkook, it seems, has also noticed the new arrival pecking your cheek one last time before he’s staring long and hard at one of their subordinates. A boy in his early twenties, Joongki he thinks his name is, personally Hoseok can’t stand him. The boy thinks he’s a hotshot because Taehyung had been nice to him a few times, and had managed to complete a job fairly quicker than some of the others. Had heard him boast that he would definitely be moving up in rank soon, maybe even to the same rank as Yoongi, which was laughable really considering Yoongi did a lot of one man jobs and was good enough to have been recruited to the CIA.

But he supposed a boy could dream, it would take him decades to get to Yoongi’s pay grade and even then it would never happen, not with the way you disliked him. Maybe it’s his arrogance, maybe it’s his swagger (or lack of) but something about his recruitment hadn’t sat well with you. You’d played your dumb bimbo part well when he was around giggling up a storm with him really boosting his ego because it was fun to watch him think your laugh was something he’d said and not actually him. Because as far as you could tell he was a goddamn joke, a real chump and one that they should’ve gotten rid of sooner. But you trusted Jungkook and the boys, so if they kept him around it was for a reason. You’d yet to see it though, today was no different.

Joongki saunters into the room, nose to the sky which already sets you off. Then he’s giving you a once over, the ugly shit brown of his eyes darkened as they zero in on the hemline of the number you’re wearing. You want to wrinkle your nose in disgust because eww you’d never. Then he’s greeting Hoseok and Jungkook like they’re friends, as if he’s on equal standing with them. But what really pisses you off is the way he greets you, the lecherous ‘hey doll’ he let’s slip past his lips makes your blood boil. Heat rushes to your cheeks, warming your skin to the point that Jungkook has to squeeze one of your thighs to reign in your anger.

“Joongki, why are you here?” Hoseok finally asks swallowing thickly, as tension fills the air.

“I’m a higher up now so I’m entitled to the second floor.” He grins, your eyes meet Hoseok’s in confusion, who had promoted this clusterfuck of a human?

“Who promoted you?” Jungkook asks, expression pinched.

“No one directly but Taehyung mentioned a rank promotion a few days ago and I’m the only one worth promoting.” You laugh, an ugly gut busting laugh that fills the halls and startles the others that occupy the floor.

“You stupid, stupid boy.” You say in between hiccups. His eyes narrow at you.

“What would a fucktoy like you know? You’re just here because Jungkook likes an easy fuck.” He spits. Oh what a poor fragile ego he has, you think with a smirk.

“Oh honey I’m more than an easy fuck.” You stand now, easily stepping into his space, in your heels you're a few inches shorter than him. Today was the perfect day for these, you think.

“Yeah, you fancy yourself a housewife? Sorry but whores like you could never be a housewife.” You land a solid blow to his cheek, stupid disrespectful kids. Your hand throbs, the warmed metal of the rings you wear press into your palm as you curl your hand into a fist again. You raise your fist ready to hit him again when a hand wraps around it, pressing into the split skin of your knuckles pulling a hiss past your lips.

“That’s enough, you hurt your pretty hand.” Jungkook says, prying your fingers from the tight fist you hold. Your gaze meets his anger burning in their depths, because this kid was so damn disrespectful. He needed to be put in his place, you refused to let a turd like him talk to you like that.

“Put your bitch in her place.” Joongki spits and Hoseok let’s his eyes fall closed because he doesn’t need to see what comes next.

*

You shove Jungkook against the wall, lips finding the skin of his chest easily. He groans carding his fingers through your hair, tugging on the ends a bit. He’s not surprised that you’d pulled him out the room after he’d beat the shit out of Joongki, it’s one of those things you’d liked about him way before you’d built up this empire. It’s never occurred to him to ask just what you liked about him beating someone up, but he wants to ask now. He wants to know what makes you so much more eager to take his cock, you’re nipping at his jaw, hands tugging his shirt from his pants. He moves to unbutton it but you stop him with a whine.

“Don’t take it off.”

“Hmm?”

“I like it like this, looks sexier.” You sigh, pressing your lips to his a little too desperately.

“Like this, fuck me like this.” You whimper rolling your hips into his. He smirks as you fumble with tugging his pants and boxers down to free his dick. His hands slide under the hem of your dress pulling your panties down, letting they slide down your legs. He pushed the skirt up around your hips landing a solid smack to one of your cheeks, you let out a choked gasp relishing the sting as he smooths his palm over the area. He’s going to thoroughly fuck you, he thinks smirking as you whine needily pressing your tits tighter to his chest.

*

Yoongi stands in the hallway when Hoseok makes his way out the room. He feels like he’s aged years just being in there for that long. He hates when he has to deal with the two of you.

“I saw the lovebirds scurry that way.” Yoongi offers, nodding his head in the direction of the sole bedroom in the warehouse.

“I figured, how’d the job go?”

“Fine, better than expected I had wanted to talk things over with ____, but she’s busy.” He laughs good naturedly.

“Yeah, those two can be domestic as fuck sometimes.”

“I think the word you’re looking for is dangerous. I’ve seen both of them do some pretty crazy shit.”

“Makes you wonder if maybe they’ll ever settle down.” Hoseok sighs.

“This isn’t a family kinda life.” Yoongi mutters, turning on his heel and leaving Hoseok on his own.

*

Reaching the gym, you walk up to your personal trainer and give him a high five. “So, this is Pablo, he is the one to thank for these.” You motion to the muscles across your stomach and you flex your arms, unable to take yourself seriously. “But, he is also to blame for my bad moods.” 

Pablo nods, “It’s true, I take all the blame if it means she is in the best physical shape she can be for filming.” 

Resting your hands on your heart, you sigh contently. “He’s just too good to me.” You give him a side hug, only for him to squeeze you tightly before you make a start. “So, what’ve we got today?” You ask, resting your hands on your hips as you glance to Carly and Erin who already look exhausted.

“Okay, we’ll start with a ten minute warm-up, do some cardio and work toward the ropes. Finish up with some boxing and then thirty minutes on the treadmill.” Pablo explains and you fight back the groan, knowing it’s for your own good.

“What the fuck?” Erin gasps, turning the camera on herself as she struggles to hold her jaw together. “You do this, every day?” She asks and watches as you shrug it off.

“Part of the job.” You tell her, laughing lightly as you pat her shoulder. “If you can’t keep up, I won’t blame you. Just do what you can, Pablo is a nice guy to those who don’t pay him.” You kid and Pablo nods along with you. 

As your work out goes on, Carly and Erin collapse down on the gym floor. “I don’t think I can hold the camera up much longer.” Carly groans loudly, both of them are dripping with sweat and panting heavily. “Look, Y/n is still going.” She turns the camera around to watch you, you're still giving it your all despite Pablo pushing you to work harder. 

“I don’t get how she does it, but I am in awe of her strength.” Erin comments as she struggles to sit upright. “After this, we’re getting breakfast, and then heading to set for a few hours.” 

“Grind never stops!” You call out to them both, letting out a heavy sigh as Pablo tells you to carry on squatting. 

“That ass ain’t building itself!” He reminds you. “You wanna fit in that costume, you gotta fill your ass out girl.” He encourages you, helping you laugh through the pain that spreads as your muscles are being worked. 

Walking out of the gym, you slip your sunglasses on and walk with ease whilst Carly and Erin stumble behind you. “How she is walking as if she’s just done a quick jog beats me. I am walking like I’ve been fucked like a ragdoll.” Erin groans as she follows you to your car where you wait for them both. 

“Dave wants to meet with us, that chill?” You ask them and they simply nod. “He’s got a bit of time between meetings to hang out.” They watch as your smile grows at the thought of having downtime with your boyfriend.

“So, Y/n. Why don’t you tell us how you met David then?” Carly questions as she slips into the backseat whilst Erin sets her camera up on the dashboard as you drive away from the gym, nearing your favourite coffee shop. 

You smile to yourself, thinking back to the first time you actually met him. “Well, for those who’re new ‘round here, hi.” You tell the camera with a bright smile. “David and I met when I was doing press for Infinity War. I had a few interviews planned in the same building as he did and we naturally clicked.” 

“Not to mention, David freaked the fuck out when he told us you met,” Carly adds, leaning over from the seat behind you. “he couldn’t believe you were actually in his presence or would spare five minutes to talk to him.” 

A laugh escapes your lips as you think how different it all seems now. “Gotta say I’m glad he did, I couldn’t imagine things without him in my life.” You think aloud, not realising how sentimental the statement is until you hear them both make a sound of awe. 

“Y/n, that’s so sweet.” Erin tells you genuinely and you tuck your hair behind your ear, looking for a distraction.

“Well, he’s my sanity amongst the madness of Hollywood.” 

*

Sitting down for breakfast, Erin lets the camera just run as you curl up next to David and rest your head on his shoulder. Your relationship was pretty lowkey considering you were both pretty big in your professions. When you went official, you knew you didn’t want everyone to obsess over your relationship, that you would remain two separate individuals. But in moments like this, it gave insight to fans how much you clearly adored one another. 

The way you would smile up at David and how he’d squeeze you gently, making you laugh. It was evident you were in love, and that you brought out the best in one another as you sat together. 

“You got time to visit my trailer?” You lift your head up to look at David as he pulls his cap off, ruffling his hand through his hair before he sighs.

You pull away, knowing that sigh all too well. “I don’t think I can today, babe.” He tells you quietly, leaning down and kissing you softly. “I gotta head back.” 

Watching closely, you wave him goodbye as you turn back around, trying to hide your disappointment. “And that is part of the struggle.” You tell both girls truthfully, knowing this is supposed to be an accurate day in your life, not a version that is sugar-coated. 

Carly reaches over, taking your hand in hers as she squeezes it lightly as tears briefly pass over your eyes. “Anyway,” You clear your throat as you pick up your coffee and head out of the cafe. “I better get to set. I’m due to film a few action sequences then I’ll just read my lines ‘til it’s dark.” You list everything off that’s still to happen today, and the girls nod along. 

“Is every day like this?” Carly questions as they return to your car. 

You shrug your shoulders. “Only when I’m filming.” You tell her with a smile. “Endgame is definitely easier than Infinity War was. I guess I can’t say much,” You laugh nervously.

“Oh don’t worry, we’ll make sure this is out once Endgame is.” Erin reassures you and you let out a sigh of relief. “It’ll probably take us that long to edit so it’s fine.” 

“Well, I still can’t say much but, what I am in is intense.” You simply state before sealing your lips and throw away the key. 

“I mean, I have no idea but okay.” Carly states causing you to chuckle as you pull away and head toward the studio. 

*

“Welcome to my trailer bitches.” You pose in front of it over dramatically. “This is where I crash out, rehearse lines and often end up watching TV with Chris.” You explain, giving them a brief tour. 

“Chris as in Evans?” Carly states and you nod nonchalantly.

“Yeah.” You reply with a small smile before collapsing down on your sofa. “I think I’m due in hair and makeup in about five minutes, but make yourselves at home.” You tell them as you rise to your feet. “Unfortunately, this is one part you guys can’t see.” 

“Oh come on.” Erin whines and you shake your head.

“Can’t guys, the Russo’s would have my head.” You joke, but secretly you know it’s true. “I’ll be back in about an hour, just chill.” 

Walking out of the trailer you head to hair and makeup, leaving Carly and Erin to their own devices. “I still can’t believe this is her life.” Erin says quietly, and Carly nods in agreement as her eyes widen. “This is insane.” She laughs lightly, only to be interrupted by a knock on the trailer door. 

“Y/n, someone left you flowers.” They hear a voice call out, and slowly Carly walks to the door and pushes it open. “Oh,” The man stutters, looking to Carly who swallows her tongue back into her mouth. 

“Hi.” She speaks softly, “I’m a friend of Y/n’s,” She’s trying to not stare, but it’s bordering impossible not to. 

“Chris, I think I’ve heard Y/n talk about you guys.” He says with a smile. “Anyhow, can you give her these when she’s back?” He asks and Carly nervously nods. “Thanks.” He pats her arm before walking off, and Carly looks down at her arm before turning to Erin in a state of shock.

“I think I just met Chris Evans and he gave me flowers. I officially win.” 

*

With a loud yawn, you walk back to your trailer. “Hey guys,” You call out as you close the door behind you, kicking your shoes off as you remain in your costume. “I am exhausted.” You laugh lightly, collapsing down between them as they share a look. “What’d I miss?” 

“Well,” Carly sits upright. “Chris Evans brought me flowers. I mean, he brought you flowers that someone left for you.” Carly motions to the bunch of flowers resting on your window ledge.

Uneasily, you rise to your feet and walk over. Buried in the sunflowers is a small letter. Instantly, you recognise the handwriting and smile to yourself. 

‘I’m sorry I can’t always be ‘round to keep you going. but I promise there’s more to come. D x’ 

You hold the note to your chest before slipping it back underneath the flowers. “From anyone we know?” Erin raises an eyebrow to you, watching as you shrug a shoulder, trying to hide your smile.

“Possibly.” You reply coyly before sitting down and shutting your eyes for a while. 

*

“Well guys, we’re going to call it a day as it’s nearly eleven pm and Y/n is still filming.” Erin yawns as they walk out of the filming lot. “I actually had no idea what to expect, but all I can say is wow.” She huffs and Carly nods.

“Yeah, Y/n is a badass and I had no clue this is how much she does on a daily basis when filming.” Carly takes hold of the camera as they reach their Uber. “But I can honestly say my respect for actors has shot up, trying to do their routine is insane.” 

“And maintaining relationships outside of the job too.” Erin adds. “I mean, I know you guys don’t see everything we do, but all I can say is that David and Y/n make each other extremely happy.” 

“Exactly. Anyway, we’ll get going as we have not stopped since Y/n started.” Carly states as she yawns. “I need to go sleep for three days. But we’ll see you on Tuesday.” 

*

“And that’s a wrap for tonight!” You hear a voice shout and you hold your hands up and dance to yourself alongside Pratt. 

“We did it!” He high fives you as you weakly walk out with a few of your cast members, talking about how it went. 

“See you tomorrow, Y/n!” You wave a few of them off as you walk up to your trailer and shut the door behind you, only to see someone sat down. 

Turning your head, you smile softly as David sits there, holding a bunch of red roses. “Told you I had more coming.” He says with a smile as he stands up and moves toward you, wrapping his arms around your waist and bringing you close into his chest. “This okay?” He questions as you nod into the crook of his neck.