#computer programming assignment help | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sugarverse · 8 months ago

Text

𝐏𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞, 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐦𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞.

thirdyear!izuku x bitchy!black reader

synopsis: Izuku and you are forced to work together for a midterm project, and you're bent on not helping the nerd finish it.

word count: 3.8k

warnings: words like slut, cumdump are used to be degrading but nothing too far out oc, a petty slap on the cheek and thats about it? could possibly also tag as dubcon just in case, enjoy!

Izuku has known you since a little before joining uni. He was invited to move in early under the honors program along with Katsuki. Other groups who were also invited to join early were fall athletes, greek sororities and fraternities, and people in majors that take longer than 8 years to finish. As if an academic rival, hotheaded, bully from younger years wasn't enough.. you came along.

You had always had a class or two with him. Whether it be preliminary classes or your third year science credit. He doesn’t know why you don't like him, always calling him names just loud enough for him to hear or purposely shutting the door on him in pouring rain.. but the day he saw you at the buffet talking and laughing with Katsuki? His life was over. You made it hell. He thought you were so pretty when he first saw you.. but you were just such. a bitch.

Katsuki didn't have the same timed honors classes but slept in the same building. If he really wanted to avoid him, he could go to the library or study in one of the cafes. Then again there was the rec center.. or he could stay with a friend, even. But you. He couldn’t avoid you. No matter how hard he tried.

He'd catch himself staring at the door until you came in, seeing your hair done in different styles and colors but still be so gorgeous. you could pull everything off. there was also this shiny pink lip gloss you started wearing.. It frustrated him how much he thought about how soft they’d feel against his skin, He's never pined after a girl this long. Sure he's had girlfriends over the years, but you lingered in the back of his mind. And you thought of him like dirt under your BAPEs.

You were hardly ever late, walking in a few minutes before class starts to set up your computer, drink if you decided you wanted one that morning, and switch your music playlist over. The class itself was pretty easy, not too many essays or homework assignments. It was more projects and group discussions than anything, which was probably the only real frustrating thing about this class. As the last few people struggled through the door, the professor started writing on the board.

MIDTERMS.

fuck.

“This is the last project before midterms. you will be graded on..” You drowned him out, rubbing your temples as the mention of midterms came up. Another fucking project? Are you serious? Honors kids never really learned to.. well. play, very well with others. Mostly stuck up kids were pretty disconnected from real life because their mommies and daddies paid to get them into the dorms and therefore, classes, with average Bs and Cs. The other half of the class had their heads so far up their asses there wasn’t ever a moment they weren’t passive aggressive or came off in an ‘i’m right you’re wrong’ tone. The class let out a groan everytime he announced some dumbass idea like this but he still continues. what the fuck is my life??

You sigh to yourself, rubbing your lips together as you begin to pick at the little jewels on your nails. Was it worth it to just do the entire thing by yourself so you aren't depending on anyone? No reason to get docked another few times because someone can't finish their half. This shit was pointless. The frequent ice breakers were pointless. You knew most of these people already and-

“Mr. Midoriya and Miss L/n, Miss Teller and Miss Barnes, Mr. Andrews and..” Once again you drowned out your professor's words, eyes darting over to Izuku who was staring at your teacher gobsmacked. He could feel his face burn, jaw slightly slack before shutting it nervously. He glanced over at you to see if you had been paying attention, smiling at you and giving a small pathetic wave.

You squinted daggers at him, biting the corner of your mouth before giving a sympathy smile and turning to the assignment on the laptop. I guess it wasn't too horrible.. realistically I can make him do the work and spend the time doing more important work like studying for my major..

the mumbling, the stuttering, always staring, always being the first to leave for a quiz. it wasn't until you saw his name over and over again that it was a real problem. try hards are annoying. lucky for you, this one's a pussy.

As class ended, you packed your things and headed towards the door to leave. Izuku quickly caught up with you, snaking his way through the crowd of people leaving the lecture hall. “Where'd you want to um.. to meet up? Or when-”

you cut him off before he could go spouting at the mouth. “Not worth the effort, I have more important shit to do over the next few weeks than work on some lame project. Do it for the both of us, We both know you have nothing better to do.” You continue walking away from him and onto your next class.

He stands for a moment, sighing and flatting his lips together. It shouldn't be too hard to do..right?

He debated. this. repeatedly. He really didn't want to bother, but he needed your help. He had shit to do this week! Laundry was piling up, he hasn't been going to the gym as frequent, other classes and midterms on top of the project. But every time he tried to confront you about your attitude, you have some comeback or degrading thing to say.. You bat your dumb long lashes and smack your lip gloss against your lips. He hated how fast he gave up arguing back.. it made his pants a little too tight and his eye twitch from hell. However, he was not doing this by himself. He had a rough week as it was and he's tired of letting you push him around.

He knocked on your door the Sunday before it was due, listening to you shuffle around your room before opening the door in some short shorts and one of those girly tank tops with a small bow in the middle. He couldn’t help but stare at your bare collarbone, used to seeing your name littered across it with gold jewelry before his verdant eyes quickly averted themselves back to your sharp gaze. Before he could stutter out his reasoning for being there first, or even say hello, you spoke.

“What is it?” You scratched the top of your bonnet, yawning quietly. You slip a hand under your shirt to scratch at your stomach, watching the flustered man in front of you watch your every move just to dart his attention somewhere deeper into your apartment. “If it’s about that stupid project, i’d rather rot in hell than work with you.”

“It’s due tomorrow y/n, can’t we just get it done? I’ve done more than.. I wanna say seventy percent of it? But I have a life too you know-” He’s cut off by your laughter, watching you turn and head back to your couch. You left the door open for him to come in if he was really serious. which was a pretty low chance that he was. you guys have played this game before.

“That’s a really funny joke, izuku. ‘I have a life’, ha!” you tease, plopping onto your cushions and grabbing the remote.

“I know you have nothing better to do than school work, if you’re so close to done, finish it. I already made my own, virgin.” you fibbed, you started your own, but of course this was the one project you needed to genuinely depend on someone else. you unpaused your show, waiting to hear him shut the door in defeat.

Izuku stood in the doorway for a beat, pinching the bridge of his nose before walking in. He respectfully took his shoes off at the before shutting the door roughly behind him.

“Can you please.” He heard his voice begin to rattle with anger, taking a deep breath in and sighing before speaking once more.

“Can we just get this project done? Please.” The straps of his bag burned into his hand as he gripped it with vigor. He tried his best to control himself, watching you flinch at the shut of the door but at least he had your legitimate attention.

“Please stop making this harder than it has to be.” He stared down at you, his tone slowly fixing itself. He didn't want to be an asshole.

But he was serious. You weren't scared, but you did kinda feel bad. Normally picking and poking didn't make him too upset. He was pretty used to it by now. He sounded actually upset for the first time in a long time. You felt something in your brain tell you to finish this stupid thing, motioning to set up at the dining room table. you watched him set his bag down, listening to his anything but quiet muttering. “Thank you for not being a stubborn bitch, y/n..”

oh??

oh???

“What did you say?” you turned your television off, tossing the remote on the couch before storming over to him.

“Speak up. You got somethin to say in my fucking apartment then say it to my face, Loser ass bitch.” He was sitting down with almost everything out on the table, looking down into his bag to grab a few more things out from the bottom. You slammed your hand on the table as you spoke, the other hand resting on your hip as you tilted your head to the side. You wanted to see who the fuck he was talking to.

“I said,” He turned his body to face yours, face burning red from irritation with a prominent look of annoyance on his face. “Thank you for not being a stubborn. Bitch. All you have done the past few weeks is make it incredibly difficult to get something done that I know we can do in two days. Stop making this harder than it has to be. I’ve seen you on about every story any. time. Theres some fucking party. You have nothing better to be doing than sitting down and working.”

“What a fucking weirdo, you stalkin’ me now, Izuku? Nothin better to do than look for me on niggas snapchat?” You swipe the papers he set up off of your dining room table like a cat, not caring how close to being set up he was.

Come to think of it. The only parties you really went to were the ones Katsuki and his friends threw, the last two had been a tailgating party and someone's birthday but..

You smile, lowering yourself to be eye to eye with him. Your words came out dripping with honey but still so sour. “Is this because I hang out with ‘suki? You jealous I got my mind on someone other than you and making your life miserable, wimp?”

Your voice died out in your throat as he stood up, snatching your jaw hard enough to establish he meant business. You felt yourself trip forward slightly from a little tug, his blush pink lips twitching as if they wanted to smirk instead of looking so mean.

“Mention him or say one more thing about how im a ‘loser’ or a ‘virgin’ again, and i'll make you forget how to walk. Keep it up, y/n. I am not in the fuckin’ mood for your bitter. shit.” He watched your facial expression change, praying his hard on wouldn't poke your thigh as you two stood incredibly close to each other.

He was far from wimpy looking.. six foot four, athletic build, and freckles covered his face. He was attractive, smart, just never hung out with the people you hung out with. You knew that. But it didn't stop the names, or the picking. He never really tried to stop you, maybe when you'd take it too far but more often than not he'd just sit and look at you and.. well, listen.

You bit your bottom lip softly, blinking a few times before staring up at him with half lidded eyes. “Take the bitter taste from my mouth then.. Talkin’ a lot of game for someone who looks like he’s gotten pussy maybe, twice in his life?” The confidence in your voice had definitely faltered, It’s not like you haven't imagined riding this dummy until the sun came up. Hes just so fucking annoying. it would be incredibly satisfying to watch his damn near virgin ass cream under you. you just weren't expecting him to be so..

Shoving his lips against yours and mumbling your train of thought, Izuku pulled you close before snaking a hand down to grope your ass. You yelp in response, tangling your hand into his messy green curls. He walked you backwards until your legs nudged against the couch, hands roaming to touch what they could of your skin. He's wanted to for so long.

You slide next to the arm of the couch, whining softly when he pulls his lips from yours. He motioned down to the floor, watching you grab a pillow from the couch and set it under your knees. Finally speaking again, He starts untying his drawstrings. “I don't wanna hear anything out of you, we clear?”

“crystal, in fact, anything for-”

smack!

“What part of ‘I don’t want to hear anything out of you’ don’t you get? Is it too hard for you to comprehend?” He mocked your pout, continuing to speak as he tugged his joggers and boxers down to his knees. “Fleshlights don’t talk. Especially after how you treated me for so long.” He mumbled the last part, tugging his clothing down to his mid thigh.

Your eyes teared up from shock, not pain. He didn't hit hard, but it did leave a small sting on your cheek. You felt your back straighten, looking up at him with pleading eyes before muttering out a small apology.

is that how quick you'd give yourself up? He thought to himself, pink tip now sitting in front of your lips as it glistened with pre-cum. is this how easy it was all along? “Stick your tongue out. Too late to be sorry.”

You slide your tongue out slowly, staring up at him as you blinked the tears out of your eyes. he almost felt.. bad. was he being too mean? he tapped his tip against your tongue a few times, watching you move forward on your own to take him in your mouth.

...maybe not mean enough.

He positioned his hands behind your head, making a makeshift ponytail before pulling you closer to his groin. He stared down at you, letting out a small groan before sighing in relief. He began to guide you along his cock dreadfully slow, watching your eyes fill with tears. He let out a soft chuckle.

“Ah.. for as much as I hear you run your mouth, your pretty good at shutting the fuck up too. Use that tongue too, slut.” He let out a few moans under shaky breath, smirking and leaning his head back. You let your jaw go slack so he could use your throat how he wanted, trying to focus on the most important thing. breathing. Tears stream down your cheeks, trying your hardest not to gag against his cock.

“Gonna cum on your face..so y-..you’ll remember this and how fucking disgusting you really are.” He rutted into your throat sloppily, pulling away after you tapped his thigh a few times. He watched spit drip down your chin, hand going to rub his thumb over his tip.

You gasp to catch your breath, putting a hand on the ground and the other on your chest. Saliva had dripped down to your shirt, letting out a few coughs. You rub your tears away, wiping your chin. "Who knew someone like y..you could be so big n mean.." You look up at him, feeling the release of your hair.

“Suck my dick like I showed you and I won’t have to be mean.” His face was red and sweaty, cock twitching in his hand from the coolness of your apartment. You nod, moving your hand to help you keep up with such a messy pace he had.

You whimpered, hearing him degrade you even further. He called you a free use whore, a cumdump.. noticing the way your thighs clenched together before hovering a hand behind your head. He watched you quicken your pace, a whiny moan leaving his mouth when your tongue swirled over the nerves in his tip.

He shivered, breath getting shaky before pulling away from you to finish over your lips and watching the mess cover your face. His hard-on twitched as he let out a sighing in somewhat relief. there's no way that he was still going, right?

“Get on the couch,” He said in a calmly, panting and wiping the sweat from his forehead. He watched you scramble to get up, sitting on the couch and attempting to clean your own face before feeling him snatch your jaw up into his hand.

“Ready to finally do our fucking work? or does your slutty cunt want attention now?” He laughed at how disheveled you looked, feeling the wetness under your chin leak onto his hand.

you blink the tears from your eyes, trying to stutter out your response before he spoke for you. “Dumb Whore. Bet you do. You get to cum on my fingers first,”

You let out a whine whether volintarty or not, seeing his lip twitch into a small smirk. “What? My fingers aren't enough?” He moved ro rub at your clit, classused fingers pressing against you in slow circles.

“Whine all you want, You don't deserve anything more than my fingers.” He growled out, standing between your legs and opening them wider with his own. How embarrassing, to be folded up on the couch by someone you ‘hated’ so bad.

“Be lucky if I let you cum at all.” He tugs your panties to the side, dipping two fingers into you and curling them a few times. “Holy shit.. You’re soaked.” He spoke half in genuine shock and astonishment, half to degrade you. He lifted your leg to rest on his hip, pulling your panties down just enough to where he could rub your clit with his thumb and slid his fingers back in.

You squeak, knee nudging into his side as you twitch and squirm against his fingers in pleasure. They were thick, curling and poking at that spot deeper than you thought they'd go. He still looked irritated as ever, but there was definitely also a look of admiration in his eyes. He seemed to be focusing, moving his fingers faster before making a scissoring motion with his fingers.

It was a lot, cocoa-colored eyes trying to blink the tears away that wouldn't stop forming in your eyes. “iii...izu!!” you plead, back pressing even harder into your couch as he basically climbed on top of you to finger fuck you. “It’s too muuuch- sensitive!” you tried pushing his hand from your clit only to be met with his other hand pinning it next to you.

“I bet kacchan doesn't do this to you.. Make you feel this good..” And there was that constant muttering under his breath. It wasn't hard to understand it when he was in such close proximity to you, but maybe he assumed you couldn't hear him. was he really boasting to you or himself..?

no. he was jealous. you concluded, deciding to run your mouth a little, a small smirk forming onto your plump lips. you haven't done anything with katsuki and it wasn’t really on your list to fuck community dick. but if that's what izuku thought, so be it.

“M.. makes me feel be..better!” you struggle to say, feeling him pull his fingers from your sopping cunt. you feel the knot that had been building up so quickly start to dissipate, an annoyed huff leaving your lips in response. His smirk turned into a disappointed frown, gritting his teeth before letting your wrist go and pinning your knees to your shoulders with, frankly, big hands.

“I’m gonna hit your cervix till you’re shaking,” He stated, lining his tip up before sliding into you with one big thrust. you felt your thighs ache, the warmth of his cock making you shiver. you felt full, closing your eyes tight and pushing at the arm that pinned your legs down. you wanted to hold onto him, bite, do anything to calm down how good it felt. It was overwhelming in the best way.

He slammed into you, pulling back slowly just to slam even harder into you. His lips curled back into a smirk, watching your body jolt and moving his arms to rest on either side of you. He felt you embrace him, legs trying to wrap themselves around him. He smiled into your shoulder, thrusting faster into you.

“iiizuuu.. nnghh.. h-hah please..” you pleaded, clenching around him. “ ‘m s.. ngh sorry. ‘M sorrryyyy, izu.. I am!! “ your nails raked down his shirt, gripping onto the fabric as your eyes began to roll back in pleasure.

“Now you’re sorry?” He asks into your shoulder, pulling back to move your heels onto his shoulders. He gave slow thrusts, staring down at you and your attempts to catch your breath. you nod as if your life depended on it, feeling your orgasm get closer and closer.

He moves a hand to rub over your clit quickly, watching you writhe in pleasure before continuing to thrust into you. You were seeing stars.. so much so you ended up squirting on his t-shirt. He laughs a bit, breaking into a moan as he pulls out of you. He jerked the tip of his cock for a few seconds, cumming and ruining your shirt in return.

Letting out a worn out but soft sigh, Izuku sat next to you tiredly. you try to blink yourself back into reality, feeling gross with all of the different.. hormones. That happened to land on you and your clothing. “If you ruined my c..couch you get me a new one, nerd..” you huff out, sitting up and leaning onto his shoulder.

He leaned his head into your touch, hand wrapping around your waist. “Do you want my help to the bathroom so you can clean off?” He also needed to, but knew no way around your apartment and wasn't exactly gonna just leave you like this to search for one.

you nod, leaning into his bicep as he helped you towards your bathroom to strip you both of your soiled clothes. The project could wait another hour or so, right?

©if you like what you see please reblog! It means a lot and helps me out. Want more? Heres my m.list! I write for x black reader so throw me some requests :P my other account are icons and x black reader moodboards if you’re interested!

have a good day/night/whatever!

707 notes · View notes

intrusivethoughtsblog · 2 months ago

Text

How to be a Solar Punk (And a Leftist) ☀️🌱:

1) Stop buying fast fashion and boycott.

I use Depop, Etsy to support small businesses, and you can purchase from small businesses or organizations via other channels. You can also transform your clothing. If a t-shirt is too small, make it a crop top or wear a long shirt underneath! Also look up boycott lists (e.g. BDS movement list) so you know which companies you can or cannot support.

2) Censor and Spread.

Carry around a sharpie or a tube of paint to cover ignorant (e.g. racist) graffiti and scribbles. (I’m not going to refer to it as art). You can also spread information via graffiti.

3) Reuse and Recycle.

I use grocery bags as garbage bags, tin cans to hold things, boxes from online orders, you can even get more creative and make pins out of bottle tops!

4) Get involved physically (if possible).

Volunteer to help people who are lower income, get involved in “beautifying” the community (e.g. displaying the cultural backgrounds of the community, gardening, and protesting).

5) Get involved online.

I sign and repost GoFundMe campaigns, donate what I can, and post information regarding current events. Don’t be apolitical. This is a leftist ideology.

6) Educate yourself.

Go to trusted sources to educate yourself on facts regarding certain matters so you can dispute false claims. There are many PDFs online, podcasts, and overall resources you should take advantage of to increase your awareness and to also help develop a better understanding of those who need your help. Education is what will set us free.

7) Support your local library.

There are so many resources and programs they offer that people are not aware of. And because people are not aware of them they are shut down and underfunded. People who can’t afford computers need to have them available free at cost. Not only to enjoy them leisurely but to do things like job search. Children also have reading assignments which brings them to the library, seeing activities and programs they offer children will help to cultivate a love for learning. The next generations are our future.

8) Learn languages and about cultures.

Certain issues are not limited to certain communities or areas. We need to unite in order to make an impact that will enact change. You will also understand how to positively influence certain people that would otherwise not be receptive due to a different communication style.

9) Take care of your mental health.

“A sick person cannot help a sick person.” -AA saying

You also need to take care of yourself because, simply, you are valuable. Being healthily selfish exists.

10) Be confident.

We unfortunately have to enter spaces that will make us uncomfortable and it will be difficult to be vocal, but it is necessary. In this area, focus on practicing efficient communication methods and building your self-confidence.

11) Confront your own bias.

Everyone is biased in some way shape or form. It is our job to rid ourselves of these biases. Take moral inventory (as they say in 12-step programs) and analyze areas you need to work on.

12) Credit artists and writers.

Being an artist and/or writer should not be a struggling profession. They are an integral part of our society. It’s easy to forget, especially when we take so many screenshots a day, so keep this in mind! I sometimes forget so I can attest it’s not the end of the world but it is a good habit to form.

13) Be anti-A.I.

It is not possible to incorporate A.I. into a leftist environment. It inherently promotes late-stage capitalism.

13) Be a good human. :)

Please comment what I missed! Thank you for reading.

Flag credit: @[email protected]

#solarpunk #leftist #late stage capitalism #socialism #social justice #anarchism #communism #enviormentalism #punk #free palestine

290 notes · View notes

sweetcalebb · 1 month ago

Text

Computer Science Major Zayne

⋆˚｡⋆୨୧˚ headcanons ˚୨୧⋆｡˚⋆

zayne, who codes better than he talks, but god—absolutely meltsss for you in soft, subtle ways.

INSPIRED BY @xyzvoid

tysm for letting me use ur concept!! ur gamer!caleb also gave me this idea for CS!zayne <3

—

⋆⁺₊❅。 zayne will make apps for you. he'll sit in his dorm, hoodie rolled up to his sleeves, brows pinched together in annoyance because he can't find what's wrong with his code. he should be doing his assignments, but how he can't forget that offhand comment you made about how messy your notes are. two days later, you get a link from him. it's your own custom-made app that color-codes and sorts them for you.

⋆⁺₊❅。 zayne will let you study with him while he works on his code. he normally doesn't let anyone see him like this—because honesty? he looks a little wrecked; the complete opposite of him in public, typing like he's trying to punish the computer for his mistakes. and when you tease him, saying he looks like he's fighting with his laptop he lets out a low, "i am." but there's a subtle smile playing on his lips.

⋆⁺₊❅。 zayne's never been one for affection, but for you, he'll make an exception. like sometimes, when he's in the middle of debugging, or writing some paper on the program he's using, he'll pull you into his lap, rest his chin on your shoulder, and murmur, "don't move. you're warm.”

⋆⁺₊❅。 to everyone else, zayne is an intimidating, composed computer science prodigy. to you? he's just a sweet, awkward, nerdy boy (still scary smart). because when he's alone with you, he's grumbling under his breath, glaring at his computer screen like it's personally offended him because he can't crack an assignment. and when he's done, he'll crawl into your arms. won't say a word, just lay there.

⋆⁺₊❅。 zayne's screen saver is a candid picture of you taking a nap on his shoulder. you hate it, but he loves it. it's his absolute favorite and he refuses to change it. sometimes, it'll distract him. he knows he should be doing work, but instead he'll sit there like a love-sick fool, eyes roving over the picture like he hasn't seen it a hundred times.

⋆⁺₊❅。 he doesn't care how much work he has left to do. he'll always find time to help you with yours. doesn't matter what class is it either. chemistry? he's patiently walking you through the formulas even though he just relearned the material last night. anatomy? he's skimming your textbooks and then letting you practice on him—turning into your own personal life-size diagram.

⋆⁺₊❅。 just like he isn't one for physical affection, he also isn't one for loud, sappy 'i love you's. no, he builds you a game. a whole game. based on some throwaway comment, like, 'i wish i was a bird'. days later, he's built you a short five-minute game where you play as a bird and at the end there's some sweet little note. it's short, but it's there.

⋆⁺₊❅。 he doesn't say anything, but he's positive he works better with you around. even when you're a little too distracting for your own good, how could he not work better when after every section of his code he finishes, he's pulling you in a slow, lazy kiss, then pulling back like nothing and working again?

⋆⁺₊❅。 sometimes, when you're feeling a little playful, you'll sneak up behind him while he works. you'll trail your lips up his neck, across his jaw, and then finish on that spot behind his ear he loves so much. he’ll mutter a rough, “don’t distract me." it has no real bite though, because before you can even apologize, he's turning around and slipping his hands underneath your shirt, pulling it up, then kissing up your stomach. soft, reverent open mouthed kisses.

⋆⁺₊❅。when zayne's finished with an especially grueling assignment, you'll offer to help him.. unwind. he'll say something short and quiet, like, "no, you don't have to." but he doesn't stop you, just watches with lidded eyes as you kneel down between his legs, tug his jeans down with his boxers and take him into your mouth. his breath hitches. "f-fuh—" he bites his lip to stops himself (bc for some reason he doesn't like cussing in front of you). he breathes out, "you really don't—nngh-" but he can't help it anymore. his hand is hovering over your head, hips twitching. "please don't stop."

#love and deepspace #lnds x reader #love and deep space zayne #zayne #x reader #zayne x reader #suggestive #love and deepspace headcanons #computer science major zayne #lnds #love and deepspace smut #head canons

232 notes · View notes

luigisbambinaaa · 3 months ago

Text

soft spot ~

summary: you’re in the massage therapy program at upenn and luigi asks for some help! ;)

hii, first time posting something of my own but ive had this idea since like february when i made this acc. so for this fic’s sake just pretend UPenn has a massage therapy program lolll and reader and luigi are within the same friend group but not as close until this lolll. also id appreciate advice on writing if anyone would like to leave a tip or two! okay enjoy!!

—————

deep into the spring semester— a random thursday night. so close to the weekend but not yet friday.

luigi— ever the star student makes a surprise appearance in the shared snapchat group you all have with friends.

luigi 🤓:

still got an hour left of TA duties and my back is KILLING me. can’t even sleep comfortably anymore smh.

matt 💩:

somebody get ahold of shorty with the massage therapy license

micaela 👻:

yall are so unserious lmfaooo

you:

you guys are so irritating yess im in the massage therapy program but i don’t have license yet

am i the damn campus chiropractor now??

nathan 🦾:

LUIGI BOUTTA GET HIS BACK BLOWN OUT PROFESSIONALLY

cue the chat blowing up with laughter

luigi 🤓: assholes lmfaooo..

though weighing his options behind the screen, he decides to just bite the bullet and ask you in private.

luigi 🤓:

hey if you’re really need the practice im down to be your test dummy

my back just really aches

you:

Looollll yeah if you have the chance come over later you know where my dorm is

luigi 🤓:

bet. thank you.

almost an hour and a half later you hear the faintest knocks on your door. opening it to find luigi, freshly showered, curls wet, grey sweats, and a upenn sweatshirt.

“hey..”

you lean against the door smiling, “come in, get comfortable”

luigi steps and takes a look around, a bit nervous, “uhh should i take my shoes off?”

“yeah, it’ll make it easier for me to fold you like a pretzel” you giggle at your own joke.

the look he gives you is priceless, followed by his own laughter and “seriously? you all play too much” before taking a seat on your bed.

he sits there a moment longer, hands resting on his knees like he’s in an actual doctor’s office.

“lu..”

“huh?” he turns his attention back to you.

“i can’t really work through your sweatshirt.. take it off for me”

“oh right, my bad” he laughs and finally tugs his sweatshirt over his head and you take that as the perfect chance to admire his bare chest.

“lay down for me,” you tell him as you pat your bed behind him. “on your stomach.”

he hesitates for a second before mumbling a quiet “okay,” and turns around.

italian giant in your girly bed, face half-buried in your pillow,

“is this fine?”

You smile and say, “perfect!”

without warning, you straddle him and sit down on the back of his thighs to get a good angle. you feel him tense up and laugh, “oh cmon gigi relax, you came to me for help remember?”

pouring some massage lotion into your hands, you press them into the broad expanse of lu’s back— firm and slow, working through his shoulder blades like you kind of know what you’re doing.

unbeknownst to you, luigi feels like he’s being tortured. the weight of you sitting on his thighs, the warmth of your hands gliding over his skin, the tips of your fingers digging deep enough to pull little airy breaths and sighs out of him without even thinking.

your voice breaks the comfortable silence, “damn, gi you’re really tense”

“yeah well ive been hunched over my computer all week grading assignments, it’s starting to weigh on me,” he huffs a laugh but cuts himself off when your hands drag lower on his back and press into a particularly tense spot— letting out low and gravelly groan.

so deep and involuntary, you both freeze.

“Lu… you good?”

voice muffled by your pillow, he replies, “yeah yeah M’fine”

but his hands clenching your comforter, knuckles white, doesn’t get past you. you press your thumbs back into that same tense spot— testing him.

letting out that same uncontrollable groan and not going unnoticed by you— his hips jerk, grinding up into your mattress as if his body is begging for a release he’s too scared to ask you for.

“…lu…did you just?”

“M’just sensitive, you mustve hit a nerve or something”

you hum, unconvinced, still working out the rest of his lower back. then, you sit up a little, straddling his thighs, and running your hands down his sides like it’s nothing.

“Mmm,” you murmur, “well… im basically done with your back.”

you pause, letting your voice drop, sweet, and teasing.

“flip over, lu. might as well take care of your chest too.”

his breath stutters, body tensing under you, and he hesitates because he knows, he knows if he turns over something’s going to change.

you wait for him— quiet, not moving, patient, and watching the back of his curls like you can hear the internal battle he’s having.

after a beat, he lets out a defeated and shy, “…okay.”

shifting slow, careful and avoiding eye contact, he turns over laying flat on his back but immediately throws an arm over his eyes, absolutely refusing to see whatever look you’re giving him right now.

your eyes drop and then go WIDE. because holy shit… the tent in his grey sweatpants is massive. thick and heavy against his thigh— straining.

you clear your throat, swallowing down the wicked little grin threatening to spread across your face. “alright,” you murmur, “relax for me.”

your hands start at his shoulders, kneading them slow, steady, ignoring his obvious problem though your eyes definitely keep flickering down to the way he’s so hard, desperate, and soooo shy about it.

your hands travel lower, down his chest, over his stomach, tracing almost every line of him, until you’re teasing just at the waistband of his sweats. your fingers ghosting right where his soft skin meets the fabric. and that’s when you feel it. his stomach twitches under your hands and he not so subtly peeks, dark eyelashes peeking out below his forearm.

that’s exactly when you lean in— voice a little softer now and just above a whisper, “wow,” you murmur, “school’s got you all worked up, huh?”

luigi lets out the softest groan, full of embarrassment and arm shifting to cover the entirety of his face now. “It’s—“ he stutters, “it’s not like that.”

but you’re already grinning because his body has already given him away— needy, twitchy, and hard against his sweats as if it has a mind of its own.

so your hands travel lower, slow and casual right over his waistband. until your palm is ghosting over the thick outline of him, barely touching him but just enough to see his hips jerk up like the interaction shocked him.

“relax lu,” you hum, giggling softly, “M’just trying to help”

another stroke, but this time you cup him fully, watching the way his breath stutters so sharply. “…fuck,” he whines— quiet, but already a bit wrecked.

“mmm,” you purr, squeezing just a bit more, “definitely got some more tension to work out here.”

dragging your palm along the thick outline of him again and that’s all it takes— luigi’s hips lift off the bed without him even thinking. helplessly chasing your touch.

and when your hand moves away— teasing him, that’s when you hear it, soft and barely above a whisper, “please… don’t stop.”

you laugh— low and dangerously sweet. “that’s all you had to say baby.”

your fingers hook into the waistband of his sweatpants and boxers, giving him plenty of time to stop you if he really wanted to but he doesn’t.

and then, you finally free him. thick, heavy, and flushed a deep red at the tip, already leaking from how long he’s been worked up under your hands.

you take your sweet time wrapping your hand around him— slow and warm. giving a lazy stroke from base to tip that has his hips jolting right off the bed again. a broken little gasp tearing out of him, “f-fffuck— oh my god—“

the wet sounds of your hand moving up and down him get more insistent. the way his hips keep lifting, restless, frantically chasing every pass of your hand has you absolutely enamored by the once shy boy.

you stroke him again— your fist twisting just right at his tip, catching that sensitive little spot that has him gasping so desperately.

he’s biting his bottom lip, trying to keep quiet, trying to hold himself together. but you slow your pace and teasingly drag your thumb across the head— “shit—“ he lets out, hips stuttering, “faster, pl-please go faster.”

you blink and pause, “you want it faster lu?” you ask, “is that what you need baby?”

he nods, fast— face flushed red all the way down to his chest. “mmhmmm, y-yeah i need it.” he chokes out, hips already moving again into your closed fist.

and you give it to him without hesitation. fingers tightening around him and your wrist flicking harder and faster. your strokes pick up their rhythm, wet and noisy now, almost obscene in the silence of your dorm room, accompanied by the sweet, sinful noises you’re pulling out of him.

“f-fuck— oh my god— don’t stop— please don’t stop—“

his thighs trembling, stomach tensing every time your hand meets the base of his cock, and then back up with just the right twist at the top.

your hands keep working him fast, slick, and filthy and every stroke has him getting closer and closer until— you notice his thighs shift under you, spreading a little wider and his hips tipping up into your fist like his body just needs to be closer to you.

and then slowly and shakily, he props himself up on his elbows. dark curls messy across his forehead, face flushed, and his chest rising and falling in sharp, desperate little pants. you look up to see his eyes— blown wide, locked right on you.

his lips part as you slow your pace again, “p-please—“ he pants, “let me cum— i need it so bad— please.”

it knocks the air out of your chest. sweet and shy luigi begging for you like it’s the only thing he knows how to do.

your voice comes out low and sultry, “yeah? that bad?” and he nods, his curls bouncing a bit at the movement.

“s’bad—can’t— please let me cum— please.” and you stroke him a little faster and grip him tighter and the sound you rip out of him is raw.

“pleasepleaseplease— wanna cum for you— please” and it’s like he’s not even aware of how much he’s begging anymore, only sure of the immense pleasure you’re giving him.

your voice drops low and firm, “then give it to me lu.”

and it’s like his whole body snaps— hips jerking up into your fist, head tipped all the way back, curls sticking to his forehead, and mouth falling open to let out the prettiest moan you’ve ever heard him make.

“Ah—fuuuuuuuck—“

hot ropes of cum spill out of him, messy and hard splattering all over your hand and his stomach. twitching through it so hard, his elbows almost give out, but he rides it out. tilting his head back up to watch your hand slowly milk every last drop from him as his breath comes out in panting little whines.

until finally, he slumps back against your bed. completely wrecked, chest heaving, and his lashes fluttering heavy against his red cheeks.

you lean over to press the softest kiss to his cheek, right against his warm skin. letting him know, “gonna clean you up okay?” and then slip off the bed, padding over to your bathroom, coming back with a damp towel.

luigi’s still laid out where you left him, now with his eyes barely cracked open, watching you like you’re an angel that’s come down from heaven. you settle between his legs again and carefully start cleaning him up— wiping the mess from his stomach and his softening cock.

you glance up to get a good look at him and catch the heavy look he’s giving you. it makes something curl in your chest. your fingers skim over his tip, collecting a small bead of cum still clinging there and without breaking eye contact, you bring it to your mouth and suck it clean off.

luigi lets out a sound that’s in between a whimper and a laugh.

hours later, your dorm is quiet.

you’re tucked into bed still smelling like your massage lotion and him, scrolling absently on your phone, and your dim fairy lights casting soft shadows across your room.

and just as you’re plugging in your phone for the night, ready to sleep, your screen lights up with a snapchat notification.

luigi 🤓:

thank u again for earlier like fr

feels like i’ll actually be able to sleep tn

you smile, heart swelling at the thought of him still not over your hang out. and then the screen lights up again.

luigi 🤓:

sooo when can i book a second appointment?

you:

depends…

your back still hurting baby?

delivered, read, yet no reply. not for a whole minute.

and then:

luigi 🤓 is typing…

————

to be continued?

#luigi mangione smut #luigi mangione x reader #luigi mangione thoughts #luigisbambinaaa

163 notes · View notes

computer-assignment-help-uk · 4 months ago

Text

How Computer Assignment Help UK Assists Students with Java and C++ Projects

Java and C++ are fundamental programming languages that are widely used in software development, game development, and system applications. As popular as they are, students tend to struggle with assignments due to complex syntax, debugging, and the stress of submitting work on time. This is where computer assignment help UK comes into play. At Locus Assignment, we provide expert assistance to help students get their assignments done accurately and timely. Whether you need help with the assignment on Java in the UK or guidance on C++ coding, expert services provided by us ensure learning is easy and effective.

Why are Java and C++ Important to Students?

Java and C++ are essential for having a solid computer science background. This is why:

Java for enterprise software: Java is required for enterprise software, smartphone applications, and web development. Learning Java enhances job prospects in leading technology businesses.

C++ for High-Performance Computing: C++ has a vast number of applications in system programming, game development, and embedded systems. C++ programming enables students to create efficient and scalable programs.

Object-Oriented Programming (OOP) Concepts: The two programming languages both employ OOP concepts, which improve solving problems and are portable to programming languages like C# and Python.

Career opportunities: Organisations prefer Java and C++ professionals, leading to better job opportunities and professional growth in the field of IT.

Common Issues Faced by the Students in Java and C++ assignment

Students typically find C++ and Java assignments challenging because:

Advanced Syntactics and Concepts: Data structures, object-oriented programming, and memory allocation are challenging to learn.

Writing the code is one thing; debugging takes patience and technical ability.

Implementation of the Algorithm: Most assignments include intricate algorithmic designs that require professional direction.

Tight Deadlines: Having multiple assignments as well as academic work can be stressful.

Practical Knowledge Deficiency: Learners lack the ability to apply theoretical knowledge to real-life situations.

How Locus Assignment delivers the best computer assignment assistance in the UK

We at Locus Assignment ensure academic success through the following specialised services:

Professional Mentoring: Our professional coders provide one-on-one mentorship, with explicit explanations of concepts.

Personalised Solutions: We customise assignments to meet university specifications and personal learning needs.

All assignments are original and thoroughly screened for plagiarism.

On-Time Delivery: We provide timely submissions to help students meet deadlines.

Reasonable Prices: Our low-cost services ensure quality work at affordable prices.

Our C++ and Java assignment Help UK comprises:

We provide quality programming assignment help UK with specialist services in C++ and Java:

Java Project Assistance: Covering object-oriented programming, GUI applications, multithreading, and database connectivity

C++ Project Assistance: Assistance with STL, file operations, memory management, and advanced algorithms

Live coding sessions: Interactive learning experiences in which students learn directly with professionals

Code Optimisation and Debugging: We assist students in optimising their code for enhanced efficiency and performance.

Code explanation and documentation: Well-documented assignments to ensure easier understanding and future revisions.

Conclusion

Java and C++ assignments may be challenging, but with the right guidance, students are able to excel in these programming languages. At Locus Assignment, we offer professional computer assignment help UK, and with that, students are able to achieve high-quality, well-organised assignments on time. If you require a Java assignment in UK or C++ project work, we are available to guide you through it. If you require coding assignment help UK, we have the best specialists who are ready to guide you towards academic success. Get the top programming assignment help UK right away and enhance your coding skills with professional guidance!

#Computer Assignment Help UK #Computer Assignment Help #Java assignment in UK #coding assignment help UK #programming assignment help UK #computer assignment assistance in the UK

0 notes

sideshowsnob · 11 months ago

Text

[tutorial] how to make computers functional in the sims 3 by sideshow_snob

Programs needed: TSRW [i use the old version] Blender 2.7 [you can use any version] Milkshape 1.8.4

You can download this tutorial as a .doc HERE

Original [right] TS3 version [left]

So, how do we start?

Seperate your computer of choice into pieces. [mouse, keyboard, monitor, monitor screen, mousepad if applicable, drop shadow if applicable]. This can be done by selecting faces and holding 'shift +' to select that entire piece. if shift + doesn't work you'll have to do it by hand. Once your desired piece is selected, press 'P' to separate.

Once you've seperated all your parts, go ahead an open TSRW and clone a similar PC. I chose this one

Go ahead and export the .wso AND .obj file for this computer in the mesh tab. I named my exports 'eapcref' we're going to be using this PC as a reference to modify our mesh, and assign bones in milkshape.

go ahead and import the .obj into blender, where your separated PC is.

As you can see, these computers are pretty different. We're going to move each piece around until its in a similar size and position as the EA one, so the PC animates properly. Helpful shortcuts ---> G [grab] S [scale] R [Rotate]

This is what mine looked like when I finished moving it around:

Keep in mind, i actually tested mine quite a few times in game because the animation was not lining up with the PC location, so this is what mine looks like after a few modifications. Make sure you save this .blend file so you can modify it if necessary after you assign the bones.

Now onto actually assigning the bones…

Open milkshape and import all your seperated PC files.

Your PC parts should be grouped like this:

group_0: the monitor, mousepad [basically everything except the drop shadow, screen, and mouse] group_1: drop shadow group_2: screen

Now import your EA pc .wso file

Select the EA pc parts in the groups tab, then go to the joints tab and click 'show' Then go back to the groups tab, with the ea pc still selected, and select all your PC parts. Go back to the joints tab, and click 'assign'.

Now delete the EA PC.

the first bone is the mouse assignment, and the second bone is the rest of the computer.

go ahead and click 'selassigned' and clear the bone assignment since its incorrect.

To assign the bones, go to the model tab and click 'select' alt shift left click all the bones in your mouse

go back to the joints tab and click assign

now to assign the PC bones

Select everything except the mouse and drop shadow, then go back to the joints tab and click assign

you can check to see if your bones are properly assigned by clicking 'selassigned' on both bones

export as .wso and your finished!

something to note:

if your mousepad gets in the way while assigning bones, you can keep it seperate and just regroup it back into the mesh after assigning bones.

#sims 3 tutorial #ts3 #the sims 3 #ts3cc #s3cc #sims 3 #sims 3 cc #thesims3cc #tutorials

279 notes · View notes

love--and--venom · 7 months ago

Text

Into the Wonderland: Chapter Five

Summary: You're getting some assignments done ahead of time since your heat is swiftly approaching. Marcus tries to make another move, resulting in a fight between him and Hongjoong.

Warnings (IMPORTANT!): Violence!! Descriptions of injuries, Hongjoong loses his shit, campus security and emts are so tired, hospital, slight description of medical procedure (staples), lots of tears, lots of anger, lots of panic

Series Masterlist

“Korean dialogue” / “English dialogue”

Your nightmares didn’t completely disappear, but they were much less frequent. Having a pack member with you helped you calm down and fall back asleep when you did have one, improving your sleep schedule significantly. Hongjoong still kept a watchful eye on you even if he wasn't the one spending the night with you.

With your heat now only a week away, you completely forgot about Marcus in your rush to turn in assignments ahead of their due dates. You’d have less to worry about when you came back to class that way. You were staying late in the computer lab for the third night in a row, but you needed access to a program you couldn’t download on your laptop. You quietly cheered to yourself after you finally submitted the assignment, leaving only one more easy discussion board post to finish.

“Oh, shit,” you cursed under your breath when you realized the time. You were supposed to meet Seonghwa and Hongjoong fifteen minutes ago. You hastily shoved your class materials in your backpack, locking the door behind you with a key from your professor. Rough hands ripped your backpack from your shoulders, knocking you off balance. An all-to-familiar scent filled you with panic.

“You made a big fucking mistake, Y/N,” Marcus growled next to your ear. Before you could react, his hand wrapped around your throat to slam you against the wall. The back of your head collided with the sheet rock, blurring your vision and sending a sharp pain through your skull. Your classmate slowly came into focus.

“You think flaunting that shitty little pack bond is gonna keep me from taking you for myself?” He was deranged, pupils blown wide and spit dripping down his chin.

“Marcus, please stop,” you pushed weakly against his wrist, tears stinging the back of your eyes.

“No! I know you want me! You are mine, omega, and I’ll make sure you forget all about that fucking pack.” His face turned red with the effort of keeping his voice down. He refused to be interrupted again. Your chest heaved, tears now streaming down your cheeks. Your mind was fuzzy from the pain. You couldn’t think straight. All of your thoughts turned to one person, so with every ounce of your strength you clasped both hands over your mating gland and you screamed.

“Hongjoong!”

The lobby of the computer science building was lined with large windows and plush armchairs. Seonghwa relaxed into the leather, scrolling on his phone while he and Hongjoong waited for you to finish in the lab.

“Sit down, she’ll be out soon.” Seonghwa repeated for the fourth time in the last ten minutes. Hongjoong paced in front of the omega, eyes glued to the door labelled ‘Students and Staff Members ONLY’.

“She’s late, Seonghwa. She’s never late, not without sending a text.” His fingers flexed by his sides, every nerve in his body on edge. He learned a long time ago to never ignore his instincts. “Something’s wrong.”

“You’re being paranoid,” the elder sighed, sparing the alpha a brief glance. Hongjoong glared at the door, the knot of dread in his stomach growing larger by the second.

“Fuck it,” the alpha stormed through the door, ignoring Seonghwa’s protests. The hallway split into two, forcing Hongjoong to stop.

“What is wrong with you?!” Seonghwa dug his fingers into the younger man’s shoulder.

“What room did Y/N say she was in?” His eyes flicked from one hall to the other, then to the placard on the wall pointing to different room numbers.

“I don’t –”

“Hongjoong!” His head snapped to the left, sprinting towards your voice with Seonghwa hot on his heels. Marcus slammed you into the wall again right as you came into view. He couldn’t hold back the growl that ripped from his throat, vision glazing over with red.

“Get the fuck away from her!” With his protective instincts on overdrive, Hongjoong didn’t even feel the sting of his knuckles connecting with Marcus’s cheekbone, knocking him to the floor. Hongjoong sat on his chest, locking his arms to his sides.

“Were we not fucking obvious enough for you, asshole?” Another hit landed on Marcus’s nose, blood pouring from his nostrils. Hongjoong grinned sadistically at the crunch of cartilage under his fist.

“You couldn’t figure it out by our scents, our clothes, my bite on her neck? Let me spell it out for you.” His hand engulfed Marcus’s forehead, yanking him up just to shove his head into the tile floor, the sound echoing down the empty hallway.

“She’s fucking taken.”

You collapsed to the floor once Marcus let you go, pulling your knees to your chest. Seonghwa dropped to your side, holding your face in both of his hands. You blinked slowly in an attempt to focus on him.

“Y/N? Baby, can you hear me?” His worried voice pushed past the fog surrounding your brain.

“Seonghwa?” You tipped forward, resting your forehead on the elder’s collarbone. Sobs wracked your body as you clung onto his shirt. He ran a hand through your hair to soothe you, but yanked it back at your yelp and the feeling of something warm and wet on his palm.

“Hongjoong,” Seonghwa stared in horror at the blood covering his hand. Your blood. The pack alpha was blinded by rage, still not satisfied with the damage done to Marcus’s face.

“Hongjoong, please forget about him. He doesn’t matter, Y/N is hurt. Hongjoong listen to me, god dammit! Hongjoong! Alpha, please, she’s bleeding.” Seonghwa struggled to fight back the panic bubbling in his stomach, voice growing more desperate the longer he was ignored.

“Hwa ‘m tired,” you mumbled into his chest.

“Nononono, you can’t fall asleep.” He forced you to sit up, gently patting your cheek to bring your gaze back to him. Seonghwa’s eyes darted between you and Hongjoong. “Y/N, I know you’re tired and I know you’re scared, but I need you to do something for me.”

“Hmm?”

“I need you to get Hongjoong’s attention. Say his name, call him alpha, anything to get him to stop.” You looked over at your alpha, confused by the snarl marring his pretty face.

“Hongjoong?” You whimpered at the sharp sting in your head from slightly raising your voice. He froze, fist reared back to strike, his anger clashing with his need to comfort you.

“Yes! That’s it, omega. Keep going, sweet girl,” Seonghwa encouraged, stroking your cheek with his thumb. You took a shaky breath.

“Hongjoong. Alpha, please.” In an instant, your classmate was forgotten, left lying on the floor barely holding onto consciousness. He stole you from Seonghwa’s grasp to pull you onto his lap.

“You’re okay. I’ve got you, alpha’s got you, it’s okay,” he rambled into the crown of your hair, wrapping you tightly in his arms and pressing you into his chest. Your nails dug into his bicep.

“She’s hurt.” He muttered, eyes snapping over to Seonghwa, the omega’s earlier words finally sinking in. “You said she’s bleeding, where?”

“The back of her head.” Hongjoong gingerly moved your hair, blanching at the large gash. He frantically searched for something to stop the bleeding, coming up empty. Frustrated, he tore the sleeve from his sweater, folding it in half to hold against the wound.

“Oh, my god!” An unknown voice shrieked from down the hall. Seonghwa tore his eyes from the man on the ground to see a woman with a hand clutched over her heart. “Oh my god, you assaulted those students!”

“Ma’am, please,” Seonghwa jumped to his feet, holding his hands up to show he meant no harm. He took note of the staff badge hanging from the woman’s belt loop. “We need you to call the police. Or call campus security and have them contact the police. Security knows the situation between the two students. Please trust me.”

“O-okay,” she hesitantly agreed. “What are their names?”

“Y/N L/N and Marcus, I don’t know his last name.” The staff member nodded, pulling out her phone and stepping further away from you. Seonghwa’s shoulders deflated. He sat next to you and Hongjoong, running his hand across your lower back.

“I knew something was wrong,” Hongjoong glowered at his elder. Seonghwa turned a sharp eye to the alpha.

“We are not talking about that right now,” he hissed, voice dropping low in his throat. They stared each other down in a heated silence until movement to their side caught their attention.

“This isn’t done, asshole.” Marcus slurred, spitting out a tooth. He tried to sit up, but flopped onto his back with a groan.

“Shut the fuck up,” Seonghwa and Hongjoong said in unison, the former sounding more tired than angry.

“Security, the police, and EMS are all on their way. I can watch him if you’d like to take her to the lobby,” the staff member offered after returning from her phone call.

“Thank you,” Seonghwa quickly bowed before trailing after you and Hongjoong. The alpha settled into one of the arm chairs with you in his lap, one hand still holding the sleeve to your head. You looked up at your fellow omega through the tears still clinging to your lashes.

“I don’t want to take an ambulance,” you sniffled, then winced again at the throbbing in the back of your skull.

“Y/N–”

“I’ll go to the hospital, Hwa, but the sirens will be too loud and the lights will be too bright and, and,” you faltered at the lump growing in your throat.

“Okay,” Seonghwa caved against your pleading, watery eyes. “I’ll call Yunho so he can come pick us up.” He moved a few feet away, growing impatient at the prolonged dial tone.

“Hey Seonghwa,” Mingi answered for Yunho.

“Where’s Yunho? I need him for something,” he avoided giving away any details. He really didn’t need three pissed off alphas on his hands.

“Uhh, I think he’s in the middle of a Valorant match. Why, what’s up?” Seonghwa rolled his eyes. Of course the only pack member with a license was preoccupied with a video game, of all things.

“Well he needs to turn it off. He needs to come pick us up from Y/N’s campus,” he insisted with a huff.

“Why, Seonghwa? What happened?” Mingi demanded, now on edge from how vague his elder was being.

“Nothing happened.” He was immediately contradicted by your yelp and frantic apologies from Hongjoong.

“Seonghwa.”

“Get the phone to Yunho, then I’ll tell you.” Mingi grumbled curses under his breath, annoyed by the negotiations. He ripped Yunho’s headphones off.

“Turn the game off, something happened to Y/N.” Any arguments from being interrupted mid-game died in Yunho’s throat. “You’re on speaker.”

“Yunho, you need to come pick us up from the computer science building on campus. Marcus attacked her. She’s bleeding and probably has a concussion,” Seonghwa quickly explained, pulling his phone away from his ear.

“He fucking what?!” Mingi shouted, loud enough that it drew Hongjoong’s attention from several feet away.

“We’re on our way,” Yunho stated after stealing his phone back.

“Please don’t bring the whole pack,” Seonghwa pleaded. “She doesn’t need to be crowded right now. Security is here, got to go.” He ended the call without waiting for an answer.

“Okay, what happened?” A very tired man with a “head of security” badge asked, looking between the three of you. Seonghwa stepped forward to recount the attack, seeing as you were fighting to stay awake and Hongjoong was still fuming. A female security guard approached you, keeping a bit of space to avoid agitation.

“I have gauze, if you’d like to use it for her head instead of a sleeve,” she offered, extending a hand with a small stack of clean gauze. Hongjoong eyed the officer warily, but accepted the offer, dropping the bloody sleeve to the seat next to him. After a few minutes, red and blue flashing lights stung your eyes. You hid in Hongjoong’s neck with a groan. Two pairs of EMTs entered the lobby. The pair with a stretcher were led to Marcus, while the others walked up to examine you.

“She’s not taking an ambulance,” Hongjoong snapped before they even opened their mouths.

“She really–”

“We’re going to the hospital, but we’re using our car.” The EMTs shared a look, one of them sighing heavily.

“Alright. Can I at least check on the wound?” Hongjoong didn’t even try to hide his displeasure, curling his lip back to show his teeth.

“Hongjoong, he’s just trying to do his job,” you vouched for the poor EMT.

“Fine.” The EMT pulled on gloves and kneeled behind you while his partner left to help with Marcus after a voice from his radio asked for backup.

“The bleeding has mostly stopped. It’s not too long, 6 or 7 centimeters from what I can see. They’ll probably staple it shut and check for a concussion at the hospital. Keep the gauze on it.” The EMT stood, grabbing his first aid bag and heading back to the ambulance, passing Mingi and Yunho on his way out.

“What happened?” Yunho asked as the two of them stormed over to you. He kneeled in front of you while Mingi sat on the arm of the chair directly behind you.

“The officer said Y/N can wait until tomorrow to give her statement due to her injury.” Seonghwa returned from talking to security and a cop. “How did you get here so quickly?”

“He drove fucking fast. I’ve never seen him that reckless, I thought I was gonna puke,” Mingi replied. Yunho shrugged at the flat glare from the omega.

“I was leaving the computer lab and he snuck up on me. It’s kinda fuzzy after I hit my head.” You slowly lifted your head from Hongjoong’s neck, fighting back the dizziness.

“Hey, don’t push yourself. Keep your head down if you’re not feeling well,” Yunho urged with a hand on your knee.

“I wanted to see you both.” You twisted around to look up at Mingi.

“Don’t move around like that, I’m trying to keep the cut covered.” Hongjoong turned you to face forward again. Mingi trailed his hand up your shoulders to rest on the back of your neck.

“Did he–” All five of you looked at the door that slammed open. The EMTs rolled the stretcher out with Marcus handcuffed to the rail, spewing profanities. Your alphas glared at him. Yunho moved into a crouch with his back to you. Marcus faltered under their intimidating stature, clenching his jaw and averting his eyes to his lap. The three of them felt an animalistic sense of pride and satisfaction at the other alpha’s submission.

“Serves him fucking right,” Mingi snickered at the blood and bruises covering your classmate’s face.

“He deserves worse,” Yunho clicked his tongue. He turned to you again once the stretcher was out the door.

“I could have kept going, but she needed me. My omega’s health is more important than that shithead,” Hongjoong sneered. “Besides, killing him would have been too merciful. He can rot in prison.” The taller alphas hummed in agreement.

“Let’s go, she needs to see a doctor,” Seonghwa ordered, herding the alphas up and out the door with you still in Hongjoong’s arms.

“Should one of us take her?” Mingi asked, pointing to the leader’s hands. “You’re bleeding, too. And your hands are shaking.”

“No.” His voice was strained, face and muscles still tense from the slew of emotions going through his mind. He and Mingi got in the backseat, sitting you between them. The car fell to a heavy silence, only interrupted whenever someone shook you awake. Hongjoong opened the door before Yunho even put the car in park.

“I’m going to call the others. I’ll be in soon. Please behave,” Seonghwa urged the alphas.

“Don’t worry, I’ll keep them in check,” Yunho called over his shoulder. They walked through the sliding doors of the ER. You were whisked away in a wheelchair almost immediately for a CT scan. Hongjoong’s leg bounced impatiently while they sat in the waiting room.

“Mr. Kim?” A nurse announced from the door leading to the patient rooms. He shot out of the chair, looking at her expectantly. “Oh, I’m sorry. Y/N is still being evaluated. You can’t see her yet. I’m bringing you back for your hands. She should be ready by the time you’re done.”

“Fine.”

Out by the car, Seonghwa called Jongho. He was the most reliable in terms of answering phone calls. Honestly, he was surprised that anyone picked up when he called Yunho.

“I hope you’re calling to explain why Mingi and Yunho left the dorms looking pissed,” Jongho skipped the greeting to get right to the point.

“Yeah, is everyone there?” Seonghwa asked with a sigh, tired and fighting back a headache.

“We’re here, you’re on speaker,” San chimed in. The eldest launched into a hasty retelling of everything that happened in the past hour.

“What the actual fuck is wrong with that guy?” Wooyoung swore once Seonghwa was finished.

“Is there anything you need us to do?” Yeosang asked.

“Get a nest set up in the living room. I have a feeling she’s going to want all of us near her tonight,” Seonghwa requested. After confirming, they exchanged goodbyes so he could check on you.

No one was in the waiting room, spiking his anxiety. Another nurse spotted him from behind the front desk and led him to your room. You sat on the bed between Hongjoong’s legs, your back to his chest and his arms wrapped securely around your waist. The pack alpha’s hands were wrapped in bandages. Mingi and Yunho stood on either side of the bed.

“Hey, the doctor’s coming in soon to go over their scan results,” Yunho informed him as he approached the bed, sitting on the edge on the same side as Mingi.

“What scans did they do?”

“CT and MRI for Y/N, x-ray for Hongjoong,” Yunho pointed between the two of you.

“Y/N, baby, are you still awake?” Seonghwa squeezed your knee. Your eyes stayed closed, but you nodded and mumbled ‘mhm’.

“Hello, I’m Dr. Lee,” a woman in navy scrubs walked in while reading something on a clipboard. “Hongjoong, you’re lucky you didn’t get any fractures in your hand. Keep the abrasions clean and you’ll be just fine.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Hongjoong agreed through gritted teeth.

“Y/N has a minor concussion. As for the cut, I’ll need to put a few staples in so it heals properly.” Dr. Lee placed the clipboard on a counter, thanking the nurse that brought in the staple gun. She gently parted your hair and cleaned the excess blood from your skin. She warned you before she began putting in the staples. You winced at each staple, making the alphas tense up in order to stay calm. A muscle in Yunho’s jaw twitched and the other two stared daggers at the doctor.

“Okay, we’re done. I know it hurts, but you did wonderfully,” she reassured with a pat to your shoulder. Hongjoong suppressed a growl. “You’ll need to have them removed in two weeks. You can either come back here or go to your primary doctor. One of the nurses will stop by soon to go over your discharge paperwork and give a packet for care instructions.”

“Thank you,” Seonghwa nodded to the doctor before she left for her next patient.

Finally, after forty-five minutes, you were back at the dorms. Hongjoong reluctantly let Seonghwa and Yeosang bring you to the latter’s room to help you change into your pajamas. As soon as you returned to the living room, which was covered with pillows and blankets, Hongjoong pulled you back into his lap. The betas took turns checking on you, giving you soft kisses to your forehead and cheeks. Everyone settled down around you, most going on their phones since it wasn’t even ten o’clock yet. You drifted off to sleep, safe and surrounded by your pack.

Permanent Taglist: @furfoxsake22 @babygirlskz98 @miniverse-zen @holly-here @corgilover20 @eastjonowhere @bookswillfindyouaway

Series Taglist: @popcatx0 @m00njinnie @awkward-fucking-thing @fr34k4c1dr41n @nchhuhi @pixie0627 @bby-boo4u @queen-thiccness

160 notes · View notes

kr-starz · 7 months ago

Text

Modern Highschool Arcane AU headcanons !!

(Vi & Jinx)

Jinx and Vi are still teenagers, their age gap would be like 3 years in this AU, so when it's Jinx's freshman year Vi's already a Senior.

People were genuinely surprised finding out the little chaotic science geek and the sports-minded athlete were SISTERS since they were so different friend group and personality wise.

(Cait & Vi)

Vi is a jock! She does winter wrestling and she's the best in her weight group. She's also involved in fall and spring sports. Baseball and football are her other seasonal sports.

People know Vi to be just a sports junkie, she has pretty good grades but nothing exceptional.

She's not so great at science , which forces her to be tutored.

Vi and Cait met in their sophomore year, she needed some help improving her grade in order to be eligible for the spring season sports since she was failing history at the time, so Caits assigned to help her out.

Caitlyn’s a goody two shoes icl, like she’s apart of the student council and her mom’s the superintendent. She’s in ROTC and she’s so very loud about it, she’s basically the FACE of the program.

Cait and Vi get close because Vi keeps seeing Caitlyn around and she’s become sort of a hallway crush, but with her fuckboy attitude Vi tries to flirt the second she realizes that she’s somehow managed to get Caitlyn as her tutor!

Cait is used to people flirting with her, she usually brushes it off since she’s a man magnet. Vi on the other hand, is weirdly making her flustered? It’s strange, really.

Cait and Vi start getting closer and eventually start dating the year after.

(Ekko & Jinx)

Ekko and Jinx are the same age but Ekko's older by a few months so he brags about it.

Ekko D&D nerd. He dragged Jinx into it, she only complied since Ekko asked so nicely (he threatened her kindly)

Jinx isn’t into extracurriculars, did track in middle school so she’s exceptionally fast and she’s in the track and field team in high school but she skips practice A LOT but the coach lowkey needs her so she doesn’t get punished.

Jinx has straight A’s but she skips classes and has days where she just can’t attend class so she does some of her work online (it’s like 70/30) in person-online; she has accommodations in her 504 plan that lets her listen to music all the time and lets her leave class whenever.

Jinx is just a nickname that was given to her while she was a kid since every sports team she cheered for ended up losing (she only ever went since she wanted to see what Vi was up to) and she was Jinxing every game which DID hurt her feelings when she was like 6 but now it’s kind of funny since she doesn’t care for sports.

She’s slightly uncomfortable letting random people call her Powder now since she introduces herself as Jinx, only her closer friends call her Powder.

She no longer Jinxes games now though but it was funny while it lasted.

Ekko and Jinx have this weird rivalry-friendship-situationship where they ARE childhood best friends who back each other up but they refuse to pair up together when working on projects since they wanna see who can get better grades or impress more people.

Ekko and Jinx is like “the boy/girl next door” trope since they’ve been casually hanging just whenever since they were little itty bitty kids. So people kind of know Jinx as “that girl friend he’s always around” and Ekko as “that boy friend Jinx is always around” to their respective classmates and acquaintances.

Ekko and Jinx used to get the “wait you guys aren’t dating” comment at least once a month. (They’re not dating just yet)

Ekko is in the art club and has never considered doing a sport (Ice hockey has intrigued him more and more every year though) and he’s in a bunch of clubs to compensate. He established the D&D club, being in a little “green thumb” club for plant parents, afterschool computer-science club which is run by Viktor and Jayce. He’s got a pretty decent variety of friends because of it and larger social circle. He’s known to be this friendly little nerdy guy and people either love him or think he’s weird.

When Ekko doesn’t have extracurriculars to focus on he’s out practicing new skate tricks,

Ekko is the plant dad of the CENTURY, he has like 20 plants in his room, he’s nurturing a garden in his backyard and he has the prettiest bushels of flowers in the house. He’s got the greenest of thumbs.

Jinx has a black thumb and kills every plant in a 20 mile radius. No but seriously, when Ekko tried giving Jinx a plant to take care of as an attempt to bond, it DIED within a week. (She drowned it) and when he gave her an easier plant to take care of, she fed the thing rubbing alcohol and didn’t notice until it was DEAD.

Ekko asks Jinx to Hoco, that’s when they started dating. Everyone calls it like “oh my god finally” “you weren’t dating before?” Etc. it’s really cute but there’s minimal changes!! They just start like, kissing or something.

320 notes · View notes

ghostbeam · 11 months ago

Text

Oblivi_n.exe | Dabi/Touya Todoroki

Touya Todoroki, known as ‘Dabi’ to the league, quirk class: cremation, mech title: Blue. You’re his new handler.

As Dabi’s new handler, you’re well aware of his history, how frequently he goes through handlers assigned to him. Not that he ever uses them—it’s more complete resistance. You’re not particularly good at your job. Transferred from the PLF for lack of success in handling any of their pilots, you’ve always been far too gentle. You lack authority. Your pilots never respected you. You don’t think Dabi will be any different. You give it a week.

Notes: okay wow hiiiii it’s been a long time since I’ve posted an actual fic (nearing almost a year now😬) this is something I’ve been working on for a bit. I have mech brain rot curtesy of @streimiv and @hawnks (both of whom this is dedicated to bc there’s no way I could have written this without yapping to them abt it and also mint helped me come up w the acronym for HERO’s) and we’ve all got our own mech fics in the works atm but anywayssssss this is kind of my baby atm but I hope it makes sense it’s very inspired first and foremost by pacific rim and then also NGE (mostly through consumption of YouTube vids bc I haven’t actually watched it pls don’t hate me) it’s a whole mess of things and Dabi is kind of a bitch and reader is slowly coming into herself and at the end of the day they both wanna be metal fused to one another forever (no matter how hard he denies it) also I’m not a huge computer person idk if this title makes sense so don’t make fun of me pls ok anyways I hope u like it!!!!

Warnings: 18+, minors DNI, pilot!Dabi x handler!reader, there’s no explicit sexual content in this part, not even a kiss sorry guys, mentions of robot gore (exposed wires, insides described as guts), brief descriptions of being trapped inside a small space, descriptions of burning while inside said space, mention of surgery to fashion a metal jaw onto someone, mentions of child abuse (nothing graphic just allusions to the todoroki family and touya’s past), angst, many run on sentences, a small cliff hanger

Words: 7.9k

Pt. 1 | Pt. 2 (coming soon)

You are nothing without your machine.

It’s the first rule, the first thing beaten into his brain by his father. You carry the burden of the mech alone, or you’re weak. You don’t exist.

U.A. raises the best and brightest pilots, navigators, mechanics, and handlers, each one carefully trained to ensure the most important outcome: winning. It should be protection. It should be defense. But if Touya has learned anything at all, it’s that winning means glory. It means worship. It means HERO’s (Human Engineered Robotic Objects) are saints, and pilots are gods.

Touya used to be one of those best and brightest before his accident.

First son to Enji Todoroki, Touya was supposed to be the golden child, the first Todoroki to pilot without a handler. He was supposed to carry the burden alone, something his father couldn’t do, something only one man has ever actually been capable of.

But Touya is born weak, bad bones, a brain unable to handle all that the mech needs to unload onto it. One too many accidents results in him being expelled from the pilot program, his HERO discarded and collecting dust in its pod, and Touya is promptly transferred to mechanics.

It should have been a smooth transition. If one kid can’t handle it, the next will. Because they have to.

He doesn’t take the news well. It’s a fit of tears, a persistent fight, unable to accept the loss of his machine—of his body. Because Touya loves it. What he lacks in strength, he makes up for in pure passion, and despite being unable to handle the burden, there’s no denying that he’s good. He’s almost perfect.

But almost is not enough for Enji Todoroki, and no matter how hard Touya tries, he’s made up his mind.

After months of mechanics, Touya makes a decision. When the next fleet of HERO’s is deployed for the next kaiju battle, Touya sneaks in among the chaos, tucked neatly inside the chest of his machine where he belongs. It doesn’t take long for things to go south, for Touya to get caught in the crossfire, losing control of his mech and burning from the inside out.

It should be an excruciating death, stuck inside a machine made for war, fire raining from above as a battle continues on outside without him.

But he survives, because what he lacks in strength, he makes up for in resilience, and his mech is programed with solutions to every situation. He’s stuck inside for months before he’s found.

Tomura Shigaraki rescues him, pries open the chest of his mech and pulls him from inside. His group feeds him, takes him in, fashions a new jaw for him made from the metal of his mech, and allows him the decision to join their cause or go back home.

And since there’s no home to go back to, Touya finds his footing with the league and becomes one of their top pilots. One who vehemently resists any and all handlers.

…

Touya Todoroki, known as ‘Dabi’ to the league, quirk class: cremation, mech title: Blue. You’re his new handler.

Following closely behind Tenko, formerly Tomura, he quickly explains to you the in’s and out’s of the pilot/handler relationship, along with a warning about Dabi’s resentment toward the whole idea. You try to keep up, but he talks quickly and uses his hands a lot. Even so, you can tell he’s a natural leader, something he had to grow into after overthrowing the man who raised him. His story is a tragic one, and it resonates with you because Tenko came out the other side stronger. Now, the league is a community with a cause, one you really believe in. Even if you and Dabi aren’t the right fit, you still have a place here.

You follow Tenko into what he calls the garage, a large floor of the abandoned academy that serves as the league’s base, this part of it full of HERO’s and mechanics all focused on the machines in front of them. It’s completely different from how HERO’s were worked on at UA, where you grew up, and even the PLF didn’t have one dedicated floor to this sort of work. You can feel the energy of the room buzzing on your skin, music blasting from old radios and mechanics tossing tools towards one another in a familiar routine. Tomura leads you to Dabi and his HERO, Blue, though you’re instructed not to call it a HERO around him. With goggles over his eyes and gloved hands, he brings two wires from Blue’s ankle together, sighing at the way they spark each time they connect.

“Dabi.” Tomura calls over the music coming from the radio hanging off of Dabi’s waist. He drops the wires and his gaze flickers toward the two of you. Pushing his goggles up to his forehead, he gives you a once over. His eyes are the brightest you’ve ever seen—kaiju blood blue—and burn scars litter his body. He’s striking in a way you’ve never seen, almost too beautiful to be human. Giving Dabi your name, Tomura explains that you’re taking over as his handler, seeing as he couldn’t keep the last one for more than a couple of days. “She’s your last handler. If you can’t keep this one, then go ahead and fry your brain. See if I care.”

“You say that every time.” Dabi calls from around sucker as Tomura walks away, leaving you alone with your new pilot.

You just your hand out in a greeting, “I’m looking forward to working with you.”

Eyeing your hand, Dabi shakes his head and turns his back to you, picking the two wires back up and connecting them again, despite the same spark from before igniting between the two. He looks back up at Blue, touching his fingers to the slim lines starting at the back of her ankle and running all the way up her leg. You peak over his shoulder at the wiring, noticing that he’s connecting two of the wrong ones.

“It’s the wrong wire.” You tell him, and he spins around to look at you, tearing his goggles from his face as he scoffs.

“Here we go.” He sighs with a roll of his eyes, pulling the candy from his lips and tossing it onto the tool cart without a care. “Handler know-it-all bullshit. This is my mech.”

You push passed him and grab the similarly colored wire from beside a red wire and connect it with the one in Dabi’s right hand. Blue lights up cyan through the thin lines that run along each of its limbs and torso, connecting with the two cameras within its head, which seem to blink before the light reaches them.

In an instant, you’re being pushed up against the hard metal, a strong arm over your chest—pinning you up against the HERO. Dabi, now having discarded his goggles, looks at you full of white, hot rage.

“Don’t fucking touch her.” He growls. You’re suddenly aware of the close proximity, eyes flickering between the snarl across his lips and his angry gaze. For a beat, you both freeze, the air suddenly charged like you’re waiting for one another to strike. Snapping yourself out of his hypnotic stare, you push against his chest, forcing him to let you go.

“If I’m going to be you’re handler, you’re going to have to trust me with her.” You remind him. He lets out a harsh laugh, like he can’t believe you would suggest such a ridiculous idea.

“I don’t trust anything but this machine.” He speaks, turning away from you to seal up the machine’s exposed wires. It’s a challenge you’re willing to accept.

“Well, I’m here to change that.” You tell him, before turning on your heel to leave him alone.

He thinks he’ll give you a week.

…

One of the worst parts of being assigned a handler, Touya thinks, is the way that pilot/handler living quarters are set up. He assumes the academy, before it was abandoned and turned into a base for the league, created this sort of set up so that handlers could keep a close eye on their pilots. The handlers Touya has burned through up until now also assumed the same.

The door that connects both the pilot’s and handler’s dorms doesn’t lock, and all of Touya’s past handlers have taken advantage of this fact. He’s been pulled out of bed far too early, pushed around and commanded and barked at. Most handlers behaved as if pilots belonged to them, which was the sentiment drilled into their brains from being thrown into such a fucked up system at a young age.—unless you were a pilot of status like a Todoroki. While he league dedicates a lot of its time to reversing these ideas, most handlers look at Touya like some kind of challenge, this arrogant pilot begging to be tamed. It never takes long for them to realize how easily he’s able to flip the switch on them. You’ll be no different.

But hours pass and you still haven’t entered. You don’t swing the door open and demand he apologize for his behavior earlier. You don’t try and punish him with training regimes, a command of a set of push ups, a schedule you expect him to follow, an extremely detailed meal plan. The entire evening comes and goes without so much as a sound on the other side of the door so he knows you’re even behind it.

He falls asleep unnerved by this, waking up late into the night in a cold sweat, expecting you to barge in, rip the covers from his body and demand to train together. When he wakes up (peacefully) the next morning, there’s no sign of you. He rises from his bed, drinks orange juice straight from the carton and eats a candy bar for breakfast. He fiddles with the navigation screen from his mech that stopped working a couple of days ago, tools spread out on the counter in front of him. Once he’s got the thing working again, your knock sounds from the unlocked door between the two of you. He thinks this might be it, the commands he expects to fall from your lips at the ready as he swings the door open, but you stand there, nervous, hands twitching as your eyes finally meet his.

Greeted by a shirtless Touya, hair mused from sleep, cargo pants hung low on his hips, dog tags swinging against his chest, his scars on display, unashamed and proud. The sight of him knocks the breath out of you, and you clear your throat in embarrassment, hoping your state of dreaming comes off as nerves rather than lust.

“Dabi. Or do you prefer Touya?” You smile. When he doesn’t answer, you continue. “I wanted to see if you wanted to eat breakfast together in the caf. I think we should start over. Yesterday was—”

You’re promptly cut off, “I already ate breakfast.”

With a harsh slam of the door, he leaves you stunned in your room.

You eat alone.

When you started as a pilot, back when you’d entered UA (a few years about Touya’s accident), you went into it believing you could change the world. The exam had placed you into the position of handler, and you were assigned a pilot who had always seemed a little frightened of you despite your obvious lack of authority. Bringing the fact up to your instructors did nothing. They all assured you that this was the ideal dynamic, that the handler always had the upper hand, but you hated that feeling. You weren’t a team like you expected to be; you were urged to control your pilot. You were there to keep them in line, not to be a pillar of support. The bond was never built on trust, and the soul link was always a looming threat. No matter how many pilots you went through, the link was never held as a gift, but a prison, something you would both be stuck with for the betterment of society, a sacrifice to make.

You’d been expelled from the handler program after guiding your pilot to help save another in the wreckage of your first battle together, resulting in the damage of your pilot’s HERO. Your pilot was okay, but the other couldn’t be saved, and you were blamed for the damage of both mech’s.

When you found the league (or when the league found you), you were working with the PLF, but proved to be a weak handler. Every pilot you were assigned to took advantage of your optimistic outlook on the kind of relationship dynamic that pilots had with their handlers. Despite all that you had been through at UA, and with the rest of the pilots you’d been paired with after, you never gave up the hope that handlers and pilots could behave as a team, or, even better, one entity.

Tenko had taken one look at you and demanded you’d be transferred to the league. There hadn’t been much of a choice in the matter, not that you really cared. You were miserable everywhere else. But when you arrived at the abandoned academy and taken a peak behind the kudzu covered walls where each and every area of the building acted as multiple moving parts in collaboration with one another in order to create one massive system, you realized that this was the future you imagined for yourself—and for the world you lived in.

Tenko saw something in you that day, something you aren’t sure you even see in yourself. And so Dabi was your first task, one that’s proving to be very difficult. But he doesn’t treat you like all the other pilots before had. He doesn’t use you. In fact, it seems like he wants nothing to do with you. And while that’s a problem, it’s still one you can work with.

You’re broken from your thoughts by the sound of a voice through an overhead intercom asking for everyone to meet on the first floor of the academy at their earliest convenience. Judging by the quick movements of those around you, you figure you’d better head downstairs as soon as possible.

The meeting on the first floor makes you very aware of just how small the league really is. While it’s definitely not a tiny organization, it’s still much smaller than both UA and the PLF. With everyone piled up like this in one group, you realize it feels more like a community, and the hum of conversation that surrounds you comforts you in a way you’ve never felt within the walls of any other academy before.

There’s discussion about the upcoming mission, one which may be the league’s most ambitious yet; the plan to hijack a mech and kidnap a pilot may be a little unorthodox compared to the league’s past missions, but the jaded pilot they’re targeting has a high chance of joining the cause. Or that’s what they have assumed. As the bodies move and speak around you, it strikes you how different this meeting is from any other meeting you’ve ever been a part of. Tenko is less a dictator and more a wrangler for the disembodied voices of your peers.

You don’t know much about his story, save for the vague details you’ve heard, but Tenko’s status as a lone handler is something you find yourself curious about. If he’s able to work without a pilot, why can’t you? It’s an idea you keep in your back pocket, one you think you can fall back on if things with Touya don’t work out. But you want them to work out. So badly.

You aren’t sure what it is about him, but he’s reignited that spark inside of you. You know he’d rather you give up, and maybe the you from a couple of months ago would have, but something about him—and this place—won’t let you leave.

As you observe the meeting, you take the time to look around the room, taking in your peers and their attentive faces as they listen to Tenko intently. You turn to your right, your eyes meeting a pair of blue ones, impossible to miss. Dabi holds your stare for what feels like ages, and when your colleagues erupt in a fit of many simultaneous discussions, you tear your eyes from his to observe the commotion. When you glance back in his direction, he’s gone.

You don’t seem him again after that. You train with other handlers, get to know your peers a little better. Everyone else seems to be welcoming, and most offer you sympathy when they find out you’re Touya’s new handler. From what you can gather, he’s had his fair share of them, all of which have quit or left in hysterics due to his harsh nature. When you ask around about where he could be, you’re told that he’s most likely in the garage, a place you assume he’s in more often than not.

You don’t know if you’ll ever get used to the garage. A place so completely different, so against the ideas and beliefs of any other academy you’ve been a part of, the chaos and community within is so foreign to you. You find Touya with Blue, working inside of her chest, where the cockpit is.

“Touya!” You call up to him and watch as he peaks his head over the edge of her metal plating. Annoyance falling across his face, he jumps down from where he stands, landing hard on his feet in front of you.

“What are you doing here?” He questions, his figure so tall and imposing above you. He’s not particularly muscular, not even all that tall compared to Tenko, but he makes you feel small regardless, in more ways than one. Rolling your shoulders back, you stare straight into his eyes, unwilling to back down.

“I figured you wanted your space today.” You explain, as Touya moves around you to get to his rolling cart of tools, forcing you to turn toward him and follow him if you want him to hear you. “I know adjusting to a new handler is rough, and I never want to make you uncomfortable. But I was thinking we could try some of those pilot/handler bonding exercises. It might be good to start training like some of the others do.”

He drops the wrench in his hand onto his cart with a loud thud, turning around toward you with a look of disbelief on his face. “Pilot/handler bonding exercises? They really brainwashed the shit out of you at UA, huh?”

At the mention of your past academy, your eyes widen in surprise. You had no idea he knew about that. Clearing your throat in order to compose yourself, you speak again, “I left UA for a reason. I have no attachment to their methods, but you guys do the same stuff here, so what’s the issue?”

“The issue is that I never asked for a fucking handler in the first place, especially not one as eager as you.” He spits, “Sure, you’re understanding now, all that bullshit about ‘giving me space,’ but the moment you get a lick of power over me, you’ll change. You’re not different.”

“I don’t want power over you. This is an equal exchange. Pilot’s and handlers are meant to be a team—” You try and argue, but he doesn’t let you finish.

“That’s what they told you, right? We’re a team, and as teammates, you make sacrifices. And it doesn’t matter if one of you turns into the other’s braindead dog because that’s your place.” His words hit you hard, the exact thought process you went through when leaving UA, completely disillusioned with their idea of “teamwork.” He’s right, and you know it, but since coming here, you thought that wasn’t how it had to be.

“Look, trust me, I get—” You’re cut off again.

“You went to UA! There’s no trusting you.” He scoffs, “It’s not like you’ll last here, anyway.”

“You are such a hypocrite! You’re from UA!” You retort, throwing your arms up in desperation. “You can hate me all you want. You can resist and resist and fry your brain ‘till there’s nothing left, but I believe in this shit. And you don’t get to tell me that I don’t, or tell me I’ll turn into something I worked so hard to get away from.”

Touya stands there, surprised by your outburst, completely unaware that you were capable of all of that. He doesn’t say anything back, and you roll your eyes. “So fuck you, and, by the way, her angel port is smoking.”

At your words, he turns in a rush, seeing the smoke billowing from Blue’s chest as he climbs his way up her form. Once inside his machine, he extinguishes the port and allows himself to relax. There are two things on his mind in this moment: how you could have possibly known it was the angel port without being inside of Blue’s chest and how, for the first time in a long time, he feels bad for his handler.

But for you, it’s the first time you’ve ever held your own against a pilot before, and that feels good.

…

Something feels weird.

Off, unsettling, strange.

He realizes, much to his dismay, that it’s your absence. Despite only having you around for such a short time, Touya has realized that your lack of presence now feels wrong. He hates it. He hates you.

He can’t find you. You haven’t knocked on his door. You’re not in the caf, not the garage, not the sparring floor, not in your room. And he did check—without knocking.

He’s not even sure how he can feel an absence. You aren’t a regular part of his life, and he never wanted you to be. But he feels all fucked up.

During training, Touya jams Blue’s halo core and she leaks vibrant neon from between her ribs. It takes him half an hour to get her reboot her system and rips one of the cables attached to the back of his suit in the process. He spends the afternoon cleaning HERO fluid off the sparring floor.

During repairs, he shocks himself over and over while trying to fix her core, fingers burning from the sparks each time he arranges the wires inside. The cameras in her eyes won’t work from the reboot, and Blue won’t let him unlock the lens panel to fix it. It’s almost like she’s mad at him too.

He’s a complete mess. It’s your fault. He has no choice but to go looking for you. Again.

He searches every wing of the academy before concluding that you’re in your room. He barges through the joint door, spotting you at the counter in your tiny kitchen. You’re surprised by the intrusion, a frightened gasp falling from your lips as you jump in your seat. You turn toward him, prepared with angry words on your tongue, but Touya speaks first.

“You’re not getting an apology out of me, so don’t expect it.” He begins, moving to stand in front of your swiveling kitchen stool as he looks down at you. “But I’m willing to be civil with you, so we don’t have to do this shit anymore.”

You’re not exactly sure what “this shit” is, but Touya looks a little worse for wear at the moment, so you don’t question it. He places a tray from the caf down in front of you that you hadn’t noticed in his hands upon arrival, says nothing else, and turns to leave the room. After shutting your joint door, you look down at the tray of food, noticing one of his suckers placed onto a vacant compartment of the tray.

You’re greeted the next morning with a knock on your door, Touya dressed in his pilot’s suit on the other side as you swing the door open. “C’mon. You’re gonna watch me train today.”

You watch him turn around to leave, expecting you to follow. You rush to pull on your combat boots and grip your dog tags in your fist as you rush to catch up to him. He doesn’t spare you a glance as you fall into step beside him, taking a look around his dorm before he leads you through the exit door.

“You need to get a feel for my fighting style.” He explains as you walk down the corridor. “I’m not saying I’ll listen to you when it comes down to it, but it’s important for you to know.”

You nod, agreeing that you should definitely observe him inside of his HERO. By understanding his moves, you’ll be able to understand the way he thinks, and you’ll be able to help him in actual combat if needed. He’s already said he won’t listen to you, but it won’t stop you from trying. He stops abruptly, turning to look at you, and you stop with him.

“If we’re gonna do this, it’ll be on my terms. I’m not your dog.” He tells you, seriously. He eye’s you up and down, taking in your expression as you nod at his words. “If anything, you’re mine.”

He begins walking again, leaving you in your spot, irritation filling your chest as you watch him, smug. “Asshole.” You curse under your breath.

“What’d you say?” He barks, turning to look at you abruptly.

“You’re an asshole.” You speak louder. He walks back toward you, making sure to tower over you intimidatingly as he looks down at you in annoyance. His eyes flicker down to the tags around your neck before hooking a finger on the chain and pulling you closer.

“Watch it.” He drops the chain and walks away again.

You follow him to the sparring floor, and he shows you where to go to watch. Stood behind a large window that looks over the sparring area, other members of the base watch the HERO’s engage in combat below. You spot Tenko and he motions for you to stand beside him.

“I knew he’d warm up to you.” He comments. The last of the previous battle finishes and you watch the two enormous machines retreat to the sides of the area, their pilots emerging from their chests with their handlers rushing to the bottom of the mech’s in support.

“He hasn’t. He’s not.” You shake your head. You aren’t sure why you deny it, if it’s some way to keep your expectations low or if there’s some kind of embarrassment aspect to the whole thing. Whatever is happening between you and Touya feels intimate and private, something that the two of you need to figure out for yourselves, not something meant for the eyes of others.

“Hm. Okay.” Tenko shrugs. “Guess not.”

You hadn’t noticed Touya enter his mech at all. You see the swing of one giant mechanic arm, too close to the window you stand behind, and you’ve shifted your full attention to the scene at hand.

The enormity of the room surprises you, despite the fact that you had seen it just moments before. But when you’re truly looking at it, watching these huge machines go at each other, the way the ground shakes, the leaves outside shake, the deep forrest clear in view from the wall that opens out to the greenery (the lack of a wall is likely from the academy’s abandoned state, but it’s a good feature to have on the sparring floor when giant robots are toppled over onto various surfaces).

The way Blue moves is electric, mechanic movements almost feel fluid with the way that Touya pilots her, easily dodging attacks from their opponent and moving around them in the most graceful way a giant machine can. It’s beautiful, unlike any fighting style you’ve ever seen in a HERO before.

“He’s showing off for you.” Tenko observes from beside you. You don’t argue with him, only because you can’t dispute it. This is your first time seeing him in action. It makes your heart beat out of your chest. There’s this ache like you should be inside with him, cables connected to both of you, tucked neatly inside of Blue together.

It doesn’t take him long to get his opponent on their back, the heavy thump against the floor jostling the ant-like figures on the ground below, handlers waiting for their pilots to finish. It goes on like this for a while, his training, using different methods of combat and winning each time. He’s amazing, and you can tell why his reputation is the way it is, second only to Tenko, who you have yet to see in action.

When he finishes his last session, you watch Blue walk to the edge of the room, and Touya emerges from her chest, jumping the long way down her body without any issue. You watch as he looks toward the window you’re behind. He waves at you, an acknowledgment of your presence, and you wave back, though you aren’t sure he can actually see you.

It’s the beginning of everything for the two of you. You think Tenko was right.

He lets you stay with him afterwards while he does maintenance on Blue. He helps you climb up the path to her chest, hauling you over the edge to sit inside with him. He turns around abruptly, holding a hand up before allowing you to walk any further.

“Do not touch anything.” He warns, completely serious, before letting his hand fall and allowing you further into the cockpit. You take in your surroundings, the guts of his machine, analyzing the different control panels and screens that line the interior. You can tell he takes good care of her, and he spends a lot of time in here. It looks lived in, stickers stuck to metal plating and pieces of him all over. He’s made a second home in between the ribs of his mech. You feel a little jealous, though you aren’t sure of what.

The two of you sit against the left side of Blue’s interior, waiting for her updates to finish, the loading screen on each of her monitors display a fire graphic that grows with the increasing percentage on screen. Between you and Touya sits an opened bag of sour gummies, which Touya picks out the lemon flavor and drops the candy in your palm with each new handful he gathers.

“How do you know all this stuff?” He questions around a mouthful of sour cherry, “Like, the real names for things, where stuff goes, how to fix them. That day with the wires…”

“I spent a lot of time around mechanics at UA, and then also at the PLF.” You explain, picking the yellow colored candy from his open palm as you speak. “I couldn’t connect with other handlers. I didn’t like how they thought, or how they viewed the pilot/handler relationship. Mechanics were mostly neutral, and they loved these machines like nothing else. They reminded me of why I joined UA in the first place.”

“Hm.” He nods, thinking about your past. “Well, I guess if you spent so much time around actual professionals…I could maybe use your help sometimes in the garage.”

“Really?” You question excitedly, a spark lighting up your eyes as you swerve your head toward him. He feels something tight in his chest at the sight.

“Yes, but only on the outside. I don’t want you messing with her insides, yet.” He establishes. “And never alone. I have to be there at all times.”

“Of course, yes, oh my god. Touya!” You smile, gripping his shoulder firmly, a gesture of thanks, communication of how much his trust means to you. “I’ll be so careful with her, I promise.”

“Yeah, well, you have no other choice.” He shrugs, throwing another pile of candy in his mouth. “I’ll kill you if anything happens to her.”

You take the threat seriously, but his heart isn’t in it. He’s realized that you’ve wormed your way into his life and he hadn’t even noticed just how entangled you were now.

As the weeks go by, you spend a lot more time together. You work on blue together, and you rest inside of her chest, sometimes allowing yourself to drift off against his shoulder on especially tiring days. He sits beside you in the caf, and while he doesn’t always say much, the feeling of his arm against yours is comforting. You can tell people are starting to notice, and they’re starting to talk. You’re being dubbed someone who’s tamed him, but you know how far from the truth that is.

Despite your differences and the petty arguments that come up when Touya feels like you’re intruding on his independence, you’re growing attached. You wonder if he is, too.

…

Spending time together in the garage becomes the new normal for the two of you. Being in each other’s dorms feels far too intimate, so you always meet in the garage. This way, one of you is always busy doing something with your hands. There’s no room for any strange feelings in the pit of your stomach to seep in.

You sit in the crook of Blue’s neck, watching Touya as he repairs the lenses in her “eyes.” Blue has three pairs of eyes; in her head, her chest, and down near her hips, which all footage is projected onto monitors inside the cockpit so that Touya has a full view of what’s in front of him.

He’s so peaceful while he works, you’ve noticed, almost like he goes somewhere else completely. It’s a part of him you don’t think many people get to see, a piece of him just for you, and you want to be selfish with it.

“Can I ask you something?” You question, leaning your head back against the metal. “But you can’t get mad.”

He looks up at you, still fiddling with a lens, a mocking look on his face. “I’m not making any promises.”

You take a deep breath, preparing yourself for the possible fallout of the question you’re about to ask, “What do you think about the soul link?”

“No.” He shakes his head. “I’d never do it.”

You nod your head in understanding, “yeah, I get it. It’s weird, right? The idea that someone else would be inside your brain.”

“It’s fucking invasive.” He says.

“You know, at UA it always felt like a threat, you know. Like, it was a way for a handler to control their pilot, not a tool or a bond like it should be.” You begin, thinking back to how you viewed the soul link back then. You didn’t like how the bond was presented as this power that a handler holds over their pilot, a threat to keep their pilot in line. But, you could understand how the link could be used for good. “But since coming here, I can tell it’s not all bad. People trust each other here. I mean, there’s obviously some people who abuse it, but, for the most part, everyone seems to understand what it really means to be a pilot and a handler.”

You’re mostly just thinking out loud, but Touya doesn’t say anything to your ramblings. He continues to work on the lenses, and you can gather that he doesn’t want to talk about the subject anymore. But you can’t let it go, yet. There’s something you’ve been worried about since you met him.

“And what about…your brain? They say when a handler and a pilot don’t complete the soul link, the pilot will eventually fry their brain.” You can’t help it. You think about it all the time, what will happen when he can’t take it anymore. The closer you get to him, the realer it feels. “Are you ever worried about that?”

He looks at you, an expression you can’t quite make out fall across his face as he stares. It’s almost soft, the way he looks at you in this moment. “You don’t have to worry about me.”

The truth is, this is a reality Touya has accepted. He’s not afraid to die, and he never has been. He’ll probably die inside of Blue, and he has no problem with that fact. He doesn’t need to be around for long, just enough to show his dad what he’s capable of.

“C’mon.” You stare. “That’s not fair.”

“Shit. I left some of the screws for this in my dorm.” He curses. He looks where you lounge, tucked into Blue’s shoulder. “Keep an eye on her, okay?”

You watch him jump down, much higher than his usual height at her chest, but he lands anyway. He doesn’t turn to look back at you as he jogs away. You climb up the side of Blue, and look at the lenses in her head. They’re already repaired, and you know Touya used the excuse of missing screw just so he wouldn’t have to talk about the soul link.

But it’s the first time he’s ever left you alone with Blue before.

…

As the mission draws closer, Touya throws himself into training. You’re on the training floor with him most days, standing behind that big glass panel as you watch him spar with his peers. He still doesn’t let you down on the floor with him until he’s full out of Blue and close enough to the edge of the sparring floor to get to you. You’re not allowed in the actual training area, and even though he says he doesn’t want you clinging to him, it’s really because he wants to keep you safe. Seeing your human body near the giant machines that are HERO’s makes him want to grab you and keep you inside of Blue’s chest forever.

You can tell all the training is taking a toll on him. With an excess of headaches and the occasional nosebleed, you continuously get into arguments about him cutting back on training inside of Blue. There are other ways for him to prepare that don’t involve his fragile brain being hooked up to an entity that takes so much. He doesn’t listen.

Later and later into the night, as your fellow pilots and handlers disperse and return to their rooms to sleep, Touya stays inside of Blue, testing her movements and sparring against test dummies and obstacles. Once you and Touya are the only two left on the sparring floor, you speak into the intercom attached to your head.

“Touya, I think you should take a break.” You tell him, “It’s late. Get some rest and then we can pick it back up in the morning.”

There’s a pause, then, “I’m gonna stay for another hour. Get some sleep. I’ll be done soon.”

“No, Touya. You’ve been at it for hours. You barely took a break for dinner. C’mon.”

“You know, you sound awfully like a handler trying to tell their pilot what to do.” He teases, but you can hear the irritation in his voice.

“You are insufferable. I’m worried about you.” You groan.

“I’m fine. Go sleep.” He insists.

“If I find out you aren’t out of here in an hour—” Your line is promptly cut off, leaving behind static in your ear. You sigh and throw your com to the side. You hope he’s telling the truth.

With one last look at Blue, you make your way out of the training floor and find your way back to your dorm.

Touya doesn’t answer the door when you knock the next morning. With a frustrated groan, you leave your dorm and head to the training floor, assuming he woke up early to get some extra hours in. The closer you get the the floor, you notice other members of the base rushing in front of you. Feeling panicked, you pick up the pace, jogging toward the training room to make sure something isn’t wrong. You collide with a body in front of you, nearly falling to the floor as you steady yourself. Toga stands in front of you, her cheeks red and eyes glossy as she explains something your mind can’t catch up to understand. The only thing you recognize is his name, and you’re running toward the training floor in an instant.

You watch as Blue stomps around the area, her arms swinging in all directions, losing her footing as she moves. Knowing you can’t do anything on the floor, you make your way up to the overlook, finding Tenko yelling into your intercom.

“What’s going on? What’s happening?” You ask him, pulling the headset off of his head and placing it on yours instead.

“He’s out of fucking control. He won’t answer. I don’t even think he’s conscious in there.” He tells you, running a hand through his hair, pulling at the roots in anxiety. “You’re not linked yet, are you?”

You shake your head, closing your eyes in frustration as you try to think. You know it’s the only way. You have to take some of the burden off of him, make him share it with you. It’s the only way he’ll survive right now. “Do you think you can get into Decay right now and knock him down somehow?”

He hesitates, “I can get inside. I can’t guarantee I’ll be able to touch him at all.”

“You have to.” You plead, desperately. “I just need him down for ten seconds, tops. As long as I can get inside of her, I can save him.”

He looks at you like you’re insane, and maybe you are. But you know you can’t live with yourself if you don’t try something. Tenko nods.

“I can do it.” He tells you. You rush passed him, following the stairs down to the training area. You feel Tenk grab your wrist firmly. “You bring him back, okay?”

“I will.” You nod.

He dodges Blue’s movements, weaving between her legs as he finally makes it to Decay. It takes a few moments for him to connect, but he goes straight for Blue. You watch the giant machines fight one another, but it’s clear that Blue’s lack of control hinders much of her ability. She needs Touya just as much as he needs her. It’s tough for Decay to dodge her swinging arms, but Tenko manages to knock her down quickly.

The fall shakes the room, but you waste no time running for Blue. Climbing over the side of her, you manage to touch your thumb to the pad on the outside to open her chest up. She begins to stand up, and you slip down, grabbing onto a bar beneath her ribcage. You let out a frustrated groan as you try to pull yourself up over the edge of the cockpit. Finally making it over, you see Touya sitting there, still connected to his pilot’s chair, eyes glazed over and blood gushing from his nose. You push the button that closes the panel in Blue’s chest, and you’re suddenly alone with him.

Touya’s body is being jerked around by the movement of the mech, and you hang onto the walls of her chest in order to make your way to him. You situate yourself in his lap, taking his head in your hands as you look at him with tears in your eyes.

“You fucking asshole! I told you to take a break.” You sob, resting your head against his as you try and think of what to do next. “Touya, please. Please, baby, I need to you come back. Just fucking come back so I don’t have to do this without your permission, please.”

With no response from him, you wipe your tears, coming to terms with the fact that you have to complete the soul link now, or he’ll die. “I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry, Touya. Please forgive me.”

The soul link isn’t exactly an action so much as it is a feeling, an experience. There’s no trigger for it, no way to make it happen. It just begins.

It’s Touya, aged thirteen, wild, chubby-cheeked and happy, in the pilot’s seat of his father’s HERO. It’s his drive, his determination, his anger, his hurt. It’s the day he snuck into battle, the day he couldn’t get out, flesh burning and fusing to the metal walls of his mech, the feeling now deep in your skin. It’s you, aged fifteen, hopeful, alive, shaking hands with your first pilot. It’s your heart, much too big and much too open for your line of work, it’s your passion, your fire, every piece of you that was broken down again and again until there was nothing left. It’s Touya and it’s you, and every single bit of your souls now tied together in one big knot.

There’s nothing but darkness. And then there’s screaming. And then you can hear everything. Every thought running through Touya’s brain right now echoes in your head as you slowly come back to yourself. He can hear the same of yours.

It’s overwhelming at first, to have two sets of thoughts in your head at the same time, but you manage to focus. You can feel an anger inside of you like you’ve never felt. It’s almost like it’s your own. You need to come back. You’ve lost control of Blue.

In an instant, you feel yourself come back to your body, now straddling Touya like before, you feel his arms shoot around you and he tucks his chin over your shoulder to pilot Blue like he’s used to doing. He pays no mind as he presses up against you, but you feel your heart rate increase at the closeness.

He’s so close.

I have to be. You’re in my lap.

Shit. I didn’t think—

Clearly.

I can’t fucking believe you. I told you we weren’t going to do this.

You were dying!

Then you fucking let me!

You’re jostled around in his lap for a moment as he stops Blue from destroying any more of the training floor, and Touya wraps an arm around your waist, holding you steady.

He gains control of her quickly, moving her toward the edge of the room. You tuck your face into his neck, not wanting to distract him and keeping your thoughts at bay so you don’t overwhelm him. He powers Blue down, severing the neural connection between the two of you, and shoves you from his lap and into the pilot’s chair like you’ve burned him. He storms out of the cockpit, climbing out of his machine and leaving you inside. You think about the argument you had within each other’s head, how Touya would have rather died than be linked to you like he is now.

You slump against the seat, comforted by the metal cage you’ve been left inside of.

#dabi x reader #touya todoroki x reader #bnha x reader #tw claustrophobia #just in case it’s like so brief and doesn’t describe much yet but I just wanna be safe #ghost.writes #ghost.fic

271 notes · View notes

kallie-den · 3 months ago

Text

Shared Interests

Brittany snoops on her nerdy, perverted, slobbish little sister’s computer in a hunt for dirt - but thanks to a strange computer program, the two of them suddenly end up with a shared interest in hopeless masturbation

Last year my patrons voted for something truly perverted, and I was happy to indulge!

If you like my writing, please consider supporting me on Patreon! For less than the price of a cup of coffee each month, you can get immediate, early access to everything I write - 4 pieces of hypno-smut a month, including the latest chapters of all the multi-chapter stories I write. Your support helps me keep writing and is greatly appreciated <3

---

“Hey, dork! I told you to keep out of my stuff! Did you take my-“

Brittany’s rage died in her throat as she busted open the door to her little sister Kess’s room and saw that Kess wasn’t there to evade her accusations with sidelong glances, stammered protests, and telltale filthy giggles. That was weird—Kess barely ever left her room, and Brittany was sure she wasn’t anywhere else in the apartment. Which meant she was out, and Kess almost literally never went out.

Brittany’s sister was a complete and total shut-in.

It was one of many reasons living with her was completely and totally exhausting. Brittany hated that their mom had insisted on the two of them living together when they went away to college. It was completely unfair! At twenty-one, why was she still stuck looking after her baby sister?

It would have been one thing if Kess had been cool, like Brittany. Brittany was cool enough and hot enough that, from her very first week in college, she’d been welcomed with open arms into the very top rung of college society. She went to sorority parties, she had her pick of boyfriends from the college’s football team, and now that she was in her third year, she was surrounded by a gaggle of other girls who hung on her every word. Brittany Simmons: Queen Bee.

But she couldn’t invite anybody over because if she did, she’d have to explain Kess.

And there was so much to explain. In the grand hierarchy of college life, Kess wouldn’t even qualify for the bottom rung. She didn’t even attend. Not really, anyway. She did her classes online, handed in her assignments online, and socialized online—and only, it seemed, with other losers just as gross as her. It didn’t make any sense to Brittany; why be a college student if all you were going to do was stay in and wear t-shirts and track pants?

Of course, she didn’t care about Kess wasting her own time. If Kess wanted to let college slip through her fingers, that was her business.

No. Brittany cared because of all the problems Kess gave her.

“Let’s see…” Brittany murmured. “Gotta be around here somewhere.”

Picking out anything in particular from amongst all the clothes strewn on Kess’s floor was a struggle, but after a few minutes of searching, Brittany was able to find what she’d come here looking for: a pair of her gym shorts that had gone missing lately.

It was almost funny. Some of Brittany’s fellow sorority girls complained about their little sisters stealing their stuff to wear. Brittany would have been over the moon if all Kess wanted to do with her clothes was wear them. She had no confirmation of what, exactly, her little sister did use her clothes for, but the fact that she only stole dirty items felt like one hell of a giveaway.

Disgusting. They were sisters, for Christ’s sake.

“Gross,” Brittany groaned. Everything about Kess’s room was gross. She took a whiff of the air; the whole place stank of sweat. “Time to get the hell out of here.”

She turned to leave—and then she noticed that Kess’s computer was still running.

A slow grin crept across Brittany’s features. Finally. The opening she’d been looking for.

Normally, Kess guarded her PC with her life. It contained the only thing Kess seemed to truly value—and if Brittany was right, a few minutes was all she’d need to be rid of her annoying pervert of a sister for good. Their mom had a frustrating inability to see any of Kess’s many, glaring flaws for what they were. Whenever Brittany complained about her and begged to be allowed to live with someone else, she dismissed her issues with Kess as nothing more than sisterly misunderstandings. Brittany needed proof, and she was certain proof was waiting right there on Kess’s hard drive.

In Kess’s one and only treasure. Her porn collection.

Brittany knew she had one. She just knew. The way she constantly took up all the bandwidth on their internet connection with nondescript ‘downloads’ was one clue. The other was the constant noise from her porn videos bleeding through the walls and into Brittany’s room at all hours of the night.

That was by far the biggest reason Brittany couldn’t invite friends and boyfriends over.

Kess’s constant masturbation had just one silver lining: it let Brittany know that she was into some seriously gross stuff. Given their apartment’s thin walls and Kess’s apparent inability to just wear headphones like a normal human being, she couldn’t help but pick up on it. A bunch of it seemed to be themed around hypnotism, which didn’t make a lot of sense to Brittany—it wasn’t real, obviously, and wasn’t it way too cheesy to be hot? Another big chunk was, uncomfortably enough, incest-related. Brittany had shuddered upon hearing a particularly loud moan of ‘sis!’ more times than she could count.

And then there were all of Kess’s vids that went on about ‘gooning’. Whatever the hell that was.

Obviously, Brittany got no pleasure from knowing all about Kess’s weird fetishes. Just the opposite, in fact. But the good part was that if she could show some of that stuff to their mom, she might finally be convinced that something needed to be done about Kess. Or at least that Brittany shouldn’t have to be subjected to her all the time.

“OK, loser,” Brittany smirked, as she sat down at Kess’s desk. “Show me your worst.”

Poking around, she quickly found obscene quantities of porn, but nothing that was truly damning. Kess’s computer was just as messy as her room. Pics, videos, and folders were placed haphazardly across all four of her monitors—seriously, why did she need four?—and no system of organization Brittany could discern pointed her to anything she could use as evidence or blackmail material.

Until she saw it. Right in the middle of Kess’s main monitor, staring her in the face and practically begging to be clicked on.

JACKPOT.exe

Brittany grinned. This had to be it. Anything a pervert of Kess’s caliber would consider a jackpot was sure to be exactly what she was looking for. The worst of the worst. True freak material.

Certain her victory was at hand, Brittany planted the cursor on the icon and opened it up.

At once, she was blinded.

She was so stunned, it took Brittany a long moment to figure out what, exactly, had even happened. Once her eyes finally adjusted to the garish light being blasted straight into her face, she realized it was a whole bunch of bright, spinning spirals, one on each of Kess’s monitors. All took on different colors and patterns, and none were particularly impressive. They looked like the kind of cheap gifs that any cursory Google search might turn up. Was this really Kess’s jackpot? Was this the kind of thing she got off to? What a freak.

It was already beginning to hurt Brittany’s eyes, and so instinctively she made to pull away and close them. But she didn’t move. A moment later, and Brittany realized she couldn’t move.

She couldn’t take her eyes off the spirals.

“What the…” Brittany half-laughed to herself. “T-this is… weird? You must be… joking.”

The way her own voice sounded distant and dreamy all of a sudden was immediately disquieting. It seemed impossible, but Brittany couldn’t quite bring herself to reject the obvious thought: this was hypnosis, wasn’t it?

That was dumb. That was ridiculous! Hypnosis wasn’t real.

And yet…

Brittany made another effort to peel her gaze away from the spirals, but as she summoned her strength, she became conscious of how much of it already drained away. Against her will, her eyelids simply refused to close. It wasn’t that her eyes were locked on a single spot; rather, whenever Brittany managed to flick her eyes away from the center of one of the spirals, the remaining three were waiting right there to snatch away her focus, and seeing all of them in the shrinking corners of her vision left her too disoriented to muster herself properly.

The result was maddening; a sensory overload of hypnotic imagery that left Brittany’s head throbbing and her body going slack. She was a prisoner of the spirals. Even her usual resting bitch face was starting to slip away, replaced with an expression of drunk, awestruck captivation that Brittany was irritated to know Kess would have gotten a kick out of.

Then, the spirals began to change.

At first, Brittany thought she was imagining the brief flashes of light that appeared on the screens at rapid, irregular intervals. But as each one pricked at her, leaving her distracted and disoriented, she realized that they were real—and then, as her eyes adjusted to the constant flickering, she realized they weren’t just flashes of light. They were flashes of images.

No. Not just images. Flashes of porn.

As soon as she realized what she was looking at, Brittany found herself overwhelmed by the never-ending tide of obscene imagery being pumped into her eyeballs. Her first instinct was to recoil from it, disgusted, but the hypnotic spirals denied her even that, leaving her to do nothing but watch helplessly as it all washed over her.

Tits. Asses. Hips. Thighs. Cunts. Cocks. Armpits. Sweat. Drool. Spit. Cum. Thrusting. Pumping. Grinding. Humping. Pounding. Fucking. A cacophony of bodies, slamming into each other over and over again, or displaying themselves in poses that pushed the boundaries of eroticism and possibility further and further. After a few minutes, the barrage of pornography completely shattered Brittany’s sense of judgment. She stopped being angry at the porn, or disgusted, or irritated, or confused, or anything else.

She simply accepted it.

The spirals wouldn’t let her do anything else.

But eventually, inevitably, her body started reacting.

At least, Brittany tried to tell herself it was inevitable. With what few thoughts remained to her, she tried desperately to convince herself that the heat in her body and the itching need between her legs was nothing more than a natural, physiological reaction to seeing all these images of nudity and sex. Anyone would start feeling the way she did, even if—like her—they were a straight girl looking at porn consisting entirely of women. It wasn’t because she was actually enjoying this. It wasn’t because she had any of the same proclivities as Kess.

And it certainly wasn’t because of the words being pumped into her ears. Right?

You want porn.

You need porn.

You love porn.

You crave porn.

Once Brittany noticed the voice, she realized she wasn’t sure when, exactly, it had begun. At some point, audio had started accompanying the flashes of porn she was being shown and, like a frog in boiling water, she’d failed to notice. At first, she was pretty sure, it had been snippets from the porn itself. Moaning. Pleading. The wet, sticky sounds of flesh slapping against flesh. Then, there had been music—low, pumping, a little cheesy, as most porn music tended to be, but somehow melodic too, and deeply, deeply, relaxing.

Embedded within the music, there was a voice. Brittany could feel it reaching into her head and planting its words amongst her thoughts, there to grow like invasive weeds.

You’re obsessed with porn.

You love watching porn.

Porn makes you feel good.

Porn turns you on.

Brittany could feel it, but she couldn’t fight it. She was still being lulled into a trance by the spirals, and bombarded with obscene imagery that was only growing more and more distracting. The over-stimulation was too much. She couldn’t get a handle on any of the suggestions being poured into her ears. She tried, in vain, to fend them off; to apprehend each one, to refute it clearly, to put it aside, then brace herself for the next.

But it was useless. Her thoughts broke apart, dashed against the rocks with each flicker and flash porn, and in the resulting confusion, Brittany found herself unable to help accepting the very suggestions she was trying to keep from infecting her.

Obsessed with porn? No, of course not! She just liked porn.

Of course she did. Porn turned her on. Porn made her feel good.

No, wait.

That wasn’t right. Or was it? Didn’t everyone feel that way? Everyone looked at porn, right?

Yeah. Brittany loved watching porn. She needed it.

Maybe she was just a little bit obsessed.

And with that one thought, all the remaining components of her psyche fell like dominoes.

Brittany was obsessed with porn.

Brittany loved watching porn.

Porn made Brittany feel good.

Porn turned Brittany on.

With that new thought pattern seeping into the foundations of her mind, Brittany found it so much harder to fight what was happening to her. The process was far less distressing now. It aroused no resentment. No will to resist.

After all, she was just being shown porn, right?

And Brittany loved porn. Fuck, she really loved porn.

Her disgust now converted into fervent appreciation, Brittany was struggling to find reasons to push back against any part of what was happening to her. Sure, it was a little weird that she was being hypnotized, but could she really be angry? It was, she reasoned, a bit like being forced to sit down and watch her favorite movie. Was she truly being forced, in the end? And yes, it was strange that she’d stumbled across something like this on her sister’s computer, but it was difficult to think about that when she was distracted by the way her hard feelings toward Kess were beginning to soften.

Kess was gross. She was creepy and annoying, and Brittany wished she’d keep her masturbatory habits under tighter wraps so Brittany didn’t have to deal with them. But… could she really blame her? If Kess was guilty of anything, wasn’t it simply over-enthusiasm for her hobby?

And besides—she had good taste.

If Brittany had been free to look anywhere but at the screens and free to do anything but stare straight ahead, slack-jawed and drooling, she might have rolled her eyes and smiled ruefully. Over-enthusiastic kid sisters got on everybody’s nerves, right?

There was still part of Brittany that could sense how deeply, awfully wrong her twisting thoughts were becoming. No, it wasn’t like that at all! Kess was doing something to her. She had to be. Everything about the situation she’d found herself in was deeply, completely fucked up. But…

But Brittany loved porn. She was obsessed with porn. Porn made her feel good. Porn turned her on. All that was making the experience way, way too distracting for her anger and fear to crystallize into anything real. And all the while, the spirals kept turning and turning, glorious porn kept blaring into her eyeballs, and more suggestions kept worming their way into Brittany’s open, pliable mind.

You want to touch yourself to porn.

You need to touch yourself to porn.

You love to touch yourself to porn.

An ingrained sense of dignity and restraint tried to tell her otherwise—but in a mere moment, it was overwhelmed. Brittany was already too far gone. She was obsessed with porn, so it was only natural that she loved touching herself to it. What else did people do with porn? It was strange; Brittany could really remember ever using porn to get off much. She’d never had a reason to. But now, all of a sudden, she was certain it was one of her very favorite things.

She felt that certainty as an itch. As something kinetic and urgent, filling her limbs with energy and driving them into motion. But not to escape. Not to free herself. Just to raise her hand and, inch by inch, bring it across her thighs and toward her cunt while the suggestions became more and more insistent.

Touch yourself to porn.

Touch yourself for porn.

Always touch yourself looking at porn.

The itch doubled, and with that became all but irresistible. Brittany couldn’t keep her hand still. The words being pumped into her ears were truly becoming her own thoughts. A violent demand repeated over and over again, inside her head and out of it, redoubling moment after moment.

Brittany needed to touch herself to porn. Fuck. She needed to touch herself right now.

But she couldn’t, could she? After all, she was sitting in her little sister’s room, at her little sister’s desk. Kess could come home and walk in on her at any moment. Brittany couldn’t even begin to imagine how deathly embarrassing that would be. It was unthinkable. There was simply no way.

And yet…

The itch. Brittany needed to touch herself. To porn. For porn.

She was obsessed with it.

Part of her was still fighting to tell her that this was wrong. That she didn’t truly feel any of this. Brittany’s memories completely contradicted everything she was being told, and dwelling on them brought forth a sense of anxious dissonance that she tried to cling to in order to fight back against the brainwashing. She never looked at porn! She’d never needed to! She’d always had boyfriends or hookups. Hadn’t she always thought porn was gross? She wasn’t some porn-obsessed loser like Kess.

All of that now seemed so distant.

And in the end, it didn’t matter. The spirals and porn on the screens before her didn’t care, and their hypnotic pull was far, far too great to resist.

You’re desperate to touch yourself to porn.

You can’t resist touching yourself to porn.

Touching yourself to porn is more important than anything.

As if in anticipation of her resistance, those suggestions started repeating themselves over and over, pounding themselves into Brittany’s weak, vulnerable mind. The constant onslaught of spirals and porn was only further eroding her resistance. Each flash, each glimpse of throbbing, heaving, sweaty bodies, each long moment of feeling her brain drained into a spiral—all of them left her weaker and weaker, and allowed the brainwashing to steadily reshape her personality and her priorities.

Brittany was desperate. She was so desperate. She couldn’t contain her sheer, abject desperation as her hand began to unbutton her jeans and slip down the front of her panties. It was undeniable. She was so desperate, she couldn’t seem to stop herself.

She couldn’t resist touching herself to porn.

The idea was still completely mortifying. Brittany hated thinking about it. She hated what she was about to do. It’s just that her inhibitions were no longer enough to hold her back. Her need and desperation were too great. She was their slave, and her willpower was steadily draining away to nothing. She couldn’t resist. Not for a moment longer.

Because touching herself to porn was more important than anything.

That quickly sunk in and embedded itself in Brittany’s psyche. With it, her shame abated. It simply no longer mattered to her. A dull smile spread across her face. What was she so worried about? Who cares if Kess walked in on her? This was more important.

Now that there was nothing holding her back, Brittany pushed her hand all the way into her panties and started rubbing her fingertips against her greedy, dripping cunt.

Her loud, lewd moans sounded just like the ones coming from the porn flashing on the screens in front of her.

Which was unbelievably hot. The fact that she sounded so much like porn was driving Brittany wild. She loved porn. She was obsessed with it. And the verbal suggestions coming from the speakers were quick to reinforce her pleasure.

Touching yourself to porn feels good.

Touching yourself to porn is perfect.

Touching yourself to porn is all you need.

Nothing feels better than touching yourself to porn.

Brittany nodded in eager agreement as she rubbed her pussy. There was no longer any part of her that wanted to resist, or that was capable of it. It was simply obvious; nothing felt better than this. Than touching herself to porn. And the pleasure, rising from her throat in thick, wet moans, made her all the more susceptible.

You want to look at porn all day.

You want to touch yourself to porn all day.

You want to let porn run your life.

You want to ruin yourself with porn.

Again, Brittany just nodded stupidly, gleefully committing herself to her new, humiliating fixation, with a dumb, wide, pleasure-stained grin on her face and copious loops of drool dribbling down her chin. To her hypnotized, bliss-broken mind, it was all true. She wanted to look at and touch herself to porn all day. How could she not? It felt so good. Better than anything else. She wanted to let porn run her life.

And if that would ruin her? Brittany would embrace it.

Touching herself to porn was all she needed.

You need more porn.

You need filthier porn.

You crave nasty fetish porn.

You always need more porn.

In synch with the shifting suggestions, the kinds of porn being shown to Brittany in glimpses and flashed amongst the spirals began to shift too. Instead of vanilla, familiar snippets of naked bodies and passionate but conventional couplings, an entire world of kinks and fetishes appeared on Kess’s monitors—and immediately started to blossom in Brittany’s imagination. Outfits and costumes. Bondage and choking. Feet and armpits. And besides those, countless other fetishes, ranging from the taboo to the bizarre.

Brittany touched herself to all of them. She finger-fucked her cunt impatiently; pace quickening, moans filling the air as she soaked her clothes with sweat and wetness in her desperate drive toward orgasm. None of the fetish porn she was now masturbating to gave her pause. In fact, the only gripe she had was that it wasn’t enough.

She always needed more porn.

Fortunately, Kess’s entire collection was right here to provide. All Brittany’s plans to mine it for ammunition against her little sister were long forgotten. The only thing she now cared about was using it to get off.

Touch yourself to porn all day.

Touch yourself to porn for hours.

Touch yourself to porn over and over again.

Touching yourself to porn is the only thing you care about.

Rewire your brain by touching yourself to porn.

Brittany just nodded and grunted impatiently. She no longer needed to be told. Porn was the only thing she cared about. She wanted it to rewire her. To ruin her. She no longer wanted to spare a thought for anything else. Kess could be coming home at any moment. Brittany had made plans with her college friends in just a couple of hours. She didn’t care. She already knew that, no matter what, she was going to stay sitting right there, touching herself to Kess’s porn.

Nothing could have made her happier.

For hours and hours, as Kess’s hypnosis regimen ran its course, then looped over and over again from the start, the only movement in Brittany’s little sister’s bedroom was the rhythmic motion of the formerly proud, dignified, restrained, and thoroughly normal college girl’s hand rubbing up and down against her dripping, throbbing, needy cunt.

***

By the time Kess finally came home, so many hours had passed that the sky was dark outside and Brittany’s plans with her friends had long since come and gone. Her body ached from hours of unending masturbation, and her eyes were bloodshot from so long spent staring at the four monitors in front of her.

Brittany didn’t care. She couldn’t stop. Couldn’t resist. She needed to keep touching herself to porn.

The hypnotic aspects of the program playing out on Kess’s computer had abated hours ago. They had done their work. Brittany was thoroughly conditioned with her newfound obsession with porn. She no longer needed the spirals to keep her rooted to the spot. She stayed sitting at Kess’s desk willingly, because of the constant deluge of amazing, filthy, twisted fetish porn she was being shown.

It was all she cared about. She was obsessed with it. Nothing was more important to Brittany than porn. And so, when she heard the door open behind her, followed by the sound of Kess’s approaching footsteps, she didn’t stop touching herself. She didn’t even take her eyes off the screen.

“Oh my god,” came Kess’s distinctly nerdy, nasally, stammering voice. “I c-can’t believe it actually worked.”

Brittany felt herself grow hot with shame and anger as the realization hit. She was furious at Kess, and mortified at being seen—but that wasn’t more important than porn.

“You…” she panted, fingers still plunging in and out of her cunt. “This… y-you set me up?”

Kess let out a dirty, nervous giggle. “You’re always b-busting into my room. Knew you’d take a peak sometime. So I decided to set a trap.”

Brittany’s eyes widened. “You… brainwashed me.”

“Yeah.” Another dirty giggle. “Isn’t it hot?”

Brittany shivered rapturously. For a brief moment, she willed herself to disagree. She forced herself to try to fix in her head all the many, many reasons why what Kess had done to her was an unbelievably disgusting and unforgivable violation of her personal boundaries and autonomy.

It didn’t work. In no more than an instant, it had all slipped away.

Kess was right. It was so hot. All the hypnosis porn she’d been touching herself to for hours now had completely rewritten her brain. Her new fetish was all-consuming, and her new set of priorities ensured that it effortlessly outweighed all other concerns.

“It’s so fucking hot,” Brittany whined.

Her hand quickened again, bringing forth moans with her every breath. She couldn’t believe how hot it was. It was like Brittany was living out a work of porn. She couldn’t believe her luck.

"You’re really hot too,” Kess said. She was standing directly behind Brittany now, and her voice was filled with unmistakable lechery. “I’ve always w-wanted to see you like this, sis.”

The unwholesome note in her voice should have made Brittany recoil. Instead, it just made her shiver. She was trapped in a fever of arousal.

“You… always?” she asked.

“Uh-huh,” Kess confirmed. Another nervous, dirty laugh. “You’re so pretty. I’ve a-always wanted us to be closer, you know. But you’re amazing, and I’m j-just a pervert.” She giggled again. “So I h-had to bring you down to my level.”

“Down to your level…” Brittany echoed faintly. She couldn’t help but find that hot, too.

“Uh-huh.” Brittany could hear the grin in Kess’s voice. Her little sister was overjoyed. “And now we f-finally have a shared interest. Something we can do together.”

She swiftly pulled over a spare chair and sat down in it, beside Brittany. Brittany could finally see her out of the corner of her eye. Usually, the sisters looked nothing alike. Brittany was tall, blonde, shapely, and pretty, while Kess was a mousy, shrunken, unkempt brunette. Now, though, the looks of lurid, feverish hedonism on their faces made them appear two of a kind.

“Here, sis,” Kess panted. “Let me h-help.”

Brittany froze when Kess reached over and touched her hand to Brittany’s thigh.

“That…” Brittany spluttered, fighting desperately to avoid the eager heat rising within her. “Kess, this… this is wrong.”

It was. It was against every taboo she’d ever been taught. Brittany should have been disgusted by the very suggestion. But she’d spent the past four hours pumping her head—among other things—incest porn, and the resulting urges effortlessly drowned Brittany’s better judgment.

It was just as she’d always known. She couldn’t resist porn.

“Do you want me to s-stop?” Kess asked, her fingers reaching closer and closer to Brittany’s cunt.

There was only one answer.

“No,” Brittany whined. “Please…”

When Kess’s fingertips reached her pussy, Brittany moaned like never before. It wasn’t just her sister’s touch. It wasn’t even the taboo. No; Brittany was swept up in rapturous awe by the very manner of her corruption. She was doing this because of porn. Because porn had made her find it hot.

She was letting porn run her life.

“Fuck,” Kess panted. “H-here. Do me.”

Using her free hand, she shucked out of her ugly, dirty sweatpants. She wasn’t wearing any underwear. That was just like her. Gross. But Brittany didn’t hesitate. She reached across and pushed two of her fingertips into her little sister’s pussy. Kess’s greedy moans soon joined Brittany’s as the two of them masturbated each other.

“Y-yeah,” Kess laughed. “Fuck. That’s right. Just like that. I t-think we’re gonna spend a lot of time like this, sis.”

Brittany just nodded. She couldn’t dream of wanting anything else.

“You have…” she panted, “so much porn.”

It was still blaring on the screens in front of her, all four at once, cycling between videos, images, animations.

“Uh-huh.” Kess was grinning proudly. “Terabytes and terabytes.”

Brittany’s whole body throbbed at the thought of all of that time, money, and effort—all given over to porn.

“T-that’s so cool,” she found herself saying pathetically.

And she meant it. For as long as she could remember, Brittany had found Kess’s porn habits as unfathomable as they were disgusting. Now, though, as she spoke to her little sister, the barest hint of awe was creeping into her voice.

“T-thanks, sis.” Kess was practically glowing with happiness. “Can’t wait to show you.”

Brittany nodded, eyes widening. All that porn. She couldn’t wait.

“No more going to school,” Kess moaned. She was touching herself faster and faster. “No more hanging out with your friends.”

“Yes,” Brittany panted eagerly.

“No more going out late,” Kess continued. It was perfectly clear that she was turned on by the thought of Brittany’s downfall—and so was Brittany herself. “No more boyfriends. No more being cool and popular.”

“Yes.” Brittany could see it now, in her mind’s eye. Her entire life, sliding into ruin. Until she had none of the things she’d always been so proud of. Her status. Her popularity. Her fashion. Until she was a gross, gooner nerd just like Kess. “Yes, yes, y-yes!”

It was driving her so crazy, she was starting to see white.

“J-just you and me, sis,” Kess moaned. “Just like this. Looking at porn. All day. Every day.”

“F-f-fuck!” Brittany cried.

“Cum.” Kess told her, licking her lips. “Break your brain for porn. Break your brain for me.”

“Fuck!”

Brittany didn’t care if anyone in the neighboring apartments heard her scream as a huge orgasm, far greater than the ones she’d been giving herself all day, tore through her and obliterated all that remained of her dignity and decency. Kess’s expert fingers helped drive it on and on, higher and higher, until all that was left of cool, popular Brittany was a mewling, moaning, sweat-drenched mess whose head was full of nothing but the most sordid, debased, porn-induced fantasies.

Just as both of them wanted.

“Hey, s-sis,” Kess said, once Brittany started to come around. “You’ve been at this for a while, huh? M-maybe we should take a break? Get some food?”

Brittany looked at her and considered it for a moment—and then shook her head. “No way, sis,” she said, grinning, as she turned her attention back to Kess’s monitors. “I could keep going for hours!”

It was all she cared about. More important than food. More important than school. More important than sleep.

Porn ran her life.

Kess simply laughed. “Knew you’d say that,” she replied. She started touching Brittany again, and Brittany obligingly started touching her. “G-good news. We’re about to hit the really good stuff.”

---

I would like to express my gratitude for the generosity of all those who support me on Patreon, and to give a special thanks to the following patrons in particular for their exceptional support:

Artemis, Chloe, J, GrillFan65, Morriel, Dasterin, Dex, orangesya, Joanna, dmtph, Ember, MegatronTarantulas, NewtypeWoman, Madeline, Trashley, BTYOR, Sarah, Mattilda, Emile Queen of sloths, jlc, Neana, Flluffie, Art, Jackson, Abigail, Ashe, Hypnogirl_Stephanie_, Jade, mintyasleep, VariableGear, Michael, Katherine, Tasteful Ardour, Dennis, SkinnyQP, Full Blown Marxism, Morder, S, Brendon, Jim, Bouncyrou, Erin, HannahSolaria, Cristopher, hellenberg, Miss_Praxis, Violet, Noct, Charlotte, Faun, B, Foridin, Zhennyfyr, EepyTimeTea, Devi, dylan, Phoenix, IvyLeather, Jim, Sebastian, Joseph, Cryocrspy, Thomas, Liz, Ash, melicious, naivetynkohan, Daedalus Fall, [LOST.WOLF], Ada, Basic dev, SuperJellyFrogEx, Katie, Lily, Alphy D, Mal, Cusco, Nimapode, UNIT_03, GladiusLumin, Alan, Geckonator, Anonymous, The Moth Court, Michael, Thomas, Yodasgirl, Astral Gen, ravenfan, prolekvlt, Djuran, Jakitron, HazelPup, Ana, Allie~, DOLLICIOUS, likenyah, Griffin, ferretfyre, Latavia, KBZ, Jessa, 41666, Haggisllama, Calamity, Thomas, naughtzero, Aletheia, a pelican, soda girl kate, Rami Hound, Junefox, Brainy, Abigal, Motoyuuri, Valmire, Ambition, Wanderer_Xerxes, Evelyn M, personalityPersonified, Bryn, Philosophical Deathclaw, Anjou, Olivia, Jotunn, Chlorr, Samantha, Kait_Storm, HazelDuck, LunarLambda, Malu, Fern, official video gaming, FluffiestTail, Ollie, incrypt, Vivid, April, Benjo, nidee, Marika, Abricot, Nicholas, Nette, cob

#story

67 notes · View notes