#buddy if I wanted to continue interacting with the public face to face I wouldn’t have quit my job in retail

[raitrolling]

Part 2 of Spanner in the Works is written, the title of which is a spoiler :)

I’ll proofread + post tonight, and then I’ve got a couple days stuck at work w no time to write part 3 so have fun w that cliffhanger

[loveisanimaginarydagger3000]

A Workout To Remember

Pairing: Wanda X G!p Reader 18+

Summary: Reader's gym crush is Wanda.

Warnings/Tags: Smut 18+, Girl Penis Reader, Girl Penis, Blow jobs, Hand jobs, Rough Sex, Dirty talk, Semi-public, Risky, Fingering.

General Master List

---

Your arms burned after dropping the weight, a thud echoing around the room as you panted for breath, reaching over to grab your water. You sipped on the drink while taking a break, looking around the room to see her.

Wanda was currently squatting a weight, her face in the mirror full of concentration as she bent her knees and then slowly stood back up right. Her gaze caught yours in the mirror, your cheeks flushing before swiftly averting to the large weight by your feet.

Ever since you met Wanda, you couldn’t get her off your mind. It started off by you simply helping her with a simple technique, correcting her form slightly to make sure she wouldn’t injure herself and since then you two have sort of become gym buddies. You would occasionally work out with her or spot her, trying your hardest not to look at her in those tight leggings to prevent an awkward interaction about the tent in your pants.

A thud breaks you out of your thoughts as you see her drop the weight, wiping off the sweat forming on her forehead before she turns to you, winking at you playfully. You shyly waved to her, heart fluttering at the smile she was giving to you before changing her weights and moving to start another set. You decided to continue with your work out, desperately trying to push away the image of Wanda squatting another set, her ass perfectly on display for you while you worked out.

After the rest of your torturous workout, you made your way to the changing room, sighing in relief when you saw it was empty. You peeled off your sweat stained shirt and shorts leaving you in only your sports bra and boxers. You moved to grab your towel, intent on having a shower when a sudden presence at your side startled you.

“Are you ever going to make a move?” she asks forwardly, your eyes widening at her while her hands cross over her chest, pushing up her breasts making your gaze instinctively flicker to them.

“I um,” you stutter out, returning your gaze to her eyes only to see hers settle on the imprint of your dick through your boxers. You quickly move your towel to cover you, flushing at the way her eyes seemed to have darkened. “Do you want me to make a move?” you shyly ask, your dick deciding now would be the perfect time to make its presence known as she pulls the towel out of your grasp.

“Oh Detka,” she rasps out, arousal washing through your body at her accent that wraps around her words delicately. “I’ve wanted you to for so long,” she whispers, moving closer to you, hands going to your waist, a finger dragging over your toned stomach making you let out a shaky breath. “So, are you?”

To answer her question, you lean forwards to press your lips to hers, a small noise escaping her when your hands slide to her waist, pushing her gently against the lockers while your body presses into her. Her hands move to your hair, tugging gently to where she wants your mouth while her tongue slides over your bottom lip, seeking entrance that you happily grant her. You press your knee in between her legs, a moan escaping her when her hips start to grind along your toned thigh.

“Fuck,” you groan out, moving to pepper kisses along her jaw when she cups you through your boxers, fingertips running up and down your length through the fabric.

“I want to make you come so hard,” she mutters against your lips, making you twitch in her hand, smile turning smug at your affected state. She was about to say more but the sound of people entering the changing rooms made her push you off her before dragging you by the hand to a shower stall, rapidly locking the door. “Are you going to be quiet for me?” she murmurs in between kisses, your back now against the tiled wall. You nod your head making her smirk before placing a final kiss on your lips and dropping to her knees.

Your mind clouded with arousal at the sight of Wanda on her knees, eyes hungrily staring at your dick that was straining against your boxers, her hands slipping under your waistband and pulling the item off you. Her hands stroke your length, fingertips teasing the tip to have you covering your mouth to muffle a groan that wants to escape you. You look down as she leans closer to you, Wanda’s lips wrapping around your tip, her head then bobbing down until almost your entire cock was down her throat. She pulls back, panting for breath as she licks her lips, a small groan leaving her as she does so, the sound quiet enough that whoever entered the changing room won’t be able to hear.

She takes you down her throat again, your hands threading through her hair and guiding her movements as the warm and wet feeling of her mouth has you seeing stars. She gags a little when she manages to fit all of you down her throat, moving her mouth to then suck slightly on the tip while her fingers run up and down your length teasingly, her other hand cupping your balls and squeezing gently making you moan against your palm.

When you can feel your orgasm nearing, you pull her off you and back to her feet so you can crash your lips back to her. Your hands flip the two of you around, pushing her into the wall as you take control of the kiss this time, cupping her jaw and tilting her head up to deepen the kiss.

“Detka,” she groans quietly, “I need you inside, fuck me.” Your hands immediately pull down her leggings and panties, moaning into her mouth at the abundance of arousal that’s pooled between her thighs.

“You’re so wet,” you whisper, sliding a finger through her folds before moving to circle her clit briefly.

“Please just fuck me,” she whimpers, your free hand clamping over her mouth to muffle the moan that’s ripped from the back of her throat when you slide a finger into her.

“Hush,” your tone dropping an octave, “I need to stretch you out first.” You removed your hand from her mouth in case she wanted to tell you to stop or anything, moving it to her chest to pinch and squeeze her nipples through her shirt. You thrust your fingers into her at a brutal pace, curling them beautifully against all her weak spots, back arching off the wall when you hit her g-spot repeatedly. Her hand covers her mouth like you did earlier, not trusting herself to be able to hold back her moans when you’re fucking her like this.

“Please, I need you,” she whispers before capturing your lips in a bruising kiss, her hand wrapping around you once again making you groan.

“I don’t have a condom,” you mutter, wanting to be safe.

“I’m on the pill and you can pull out,” she says without hesitation, “Now fuck me.” She turns so her hands can be planted against the wall, bending down a little so her ass sticks out for you. You swiftly position yourself at her entrance, groaning at the warm and wet feeling of her as you slide into her. A shaky breath escapes you both as you let her adjust to your large size, her moving her hips forwards and back onto you.

You start to thrust into her, clenching your jaw to stop the sinful sounds from escaping you as her warm and wet cunt has pleasure clouding your mind. Soon, you're pounding into her, your cock hitting deep inside her making Wanda’s hand firmly clamped over her mouth. With every powerful thrust, you can feel her tightening around you, pussy spasming as you fuck her into oblivion. You wrap an arm around her front, bringing her up into an upright position so you can litter her neck in open mouthed kisses while your other hand moves down her body to her clit, drawing fast and deliberate circles against the sensitive bundle of nerves.

“I’m gonna come,” she rasps out before her body tenses in your arms, clenching hard around you making you groan into the kiss. Her cum coats your cock as she comes hard around you, legs trembling a little as she leans into your body for support. You continue to slowly fuck her through her orgasm with long and deep thrusts, letting her ride out her aftershocks before you can feel your own orgasm rapidly approaching.

“Fuck Wanda,” you rasp out near the shell of her ear, “I’m so close.” You pull out of her, hand rubbing up and down your length, soaked in her arousal and cum. You don’t expect her to drop to her knees again, taking you in her mouth and hand expertly moving up and down you, making your hands thread through her hair and hold her close. You can’t stop yourself from coming down her throat, the warm white liquid filling her mouth as your hips stuttering as you empty into her. You pant as you try to recover from your mind-blowing orgasm, chest heaving as she releases you from her mouth, swallowing your load and moaning lowly at the taste. Her finger moves to swipe the little that escaped her mouth, sliding it back in and making a show of the action making you pull her up to her feet and kiss her again.

“You taste so good Detka,” she husks out before kissing you again, her hands settling on your jaw as she pulls back, looking at you with a smile.

“Can I take you out for dinner one day?” you whisper, fixing her hair with an apologetic smile from messing it up so much. She merely chuckles at you, a soft smile on her face as she bites her lip.

“I’m free Friday,” she replied before pulling her clothes back on, making you do the same.

“I’ll meet you at shawarmas at 8?” your eyes are hopeful as you look at her.

“It’s a date,” she says before placing a final kiss on your lips, leaving you alone in the shower stall to imagine what you could do on your date. 

[rreskk]

First drinks

Summary: Back in the Midwest, a broke thief and criminal had found himself drinking with a lonely, abnormal Canadian drifter after an unusual... Interaction.

Pairings: Michael Townley/ Trevor Philips

Word count: 668

“So…” Michael, having no appetite for the pint of beer in front of him, tried to make conversation.

He had been sitting there uncomfortably as he watched this guy – A fellow Canadian – down a few glasses of spirits even though they both just threw up in the public toilets not even 5 minutes up the road. The stranger was fascinating… He had these creepy, brown eyes that had pupils so dysfunctional. Every time Michael dared looked into those eyes, he swore them black pearls would increase in size and it freaked him out.

“Not thirsty?” The man finally spoke after minutes of being dead silent.

“Not really.”

The stranger looked conflicted. His face was unique. A good couple of facial scars, bushy eyebrows, a growing stubble and manic, overgrown hair; an unusual mixture between mohawk and mangled mullet. Whether or not it was styled, it oddly suited him.

“You said you were called Michael?”

“Yeah… Michael Townley.”

“Ah, Townley. Mind if I called you Mikey instead?”

“Sure, I don’t care.” He responded with a quiet voice, letting the background music disturb the tension.

“So, Mikey, what were you doing with that turd back there?” The stranger questioned as he downed another shot.

Michael paused for a moment. What was I doing? He’d think before answering with short lies.

“Drifting.”

“Oh!” He had peaked the interest of the man opposite, “You’re a drifter as well? So am I. I’ve just been causing shit load of mayhem across the border. No place in mind. You?”

Fuck, he cursed to himself. Why did he have to give such an open lie? He was left to ponder only the truth.

“Nah… I’m not a… Drifter. I was just hoping to, uh, you know…”

“Hoping to what?”

“The usual… Steal and shit. I- I just didn’t expect you to shoot him in the head with a… Flare-gun?” He muttered.

“The guy was an ass anyway.”

Michael breathed out in relief. He adjusted the winter jacket around him and felt the Midwest cold get to him, even through the lively bar.

“You wouldn’t be cold if you’d drink up, Townley.”

He stared towards the Canadian and sighed. Maybe he’s right, and with that, he took a couple of sips before realising he hadn’t of asked for a name.

“Oh, hah, what’s your name? If you don’t mind me asking.”

“I was waitin’ for you to ask,” The guy smirked, “I thought you were too shy to ask. I’m Trevor Philips.”

“Trevor… Well, it’s nice to meet you… Under the circumstances.”

“You best believe it, buddy. That’s how good friendships start, ay.” Trevor murmured, his accent getting stronger at the end.

“If you say so.”

“So you steal?” He’d continue raiding the conversation with his big mouth, “What sorta stuff? Gas stations or are you a proper lad who robs banks? I’m gonna be honest, Mikey, ain’t no good robber gets chased by some lanky American scumbag to my cargo plane.”

“Woah, don’t be so fast to judge, bro. He was on my ass big time.” Michael frowned at his bluntness.

“The cunt couldn’t walk faster than 10mp.”

“I played soccer in high-school, I know what fast is.”

“Really?” Trevor snickered, “Oh, I played hockey in high-school but you don’t see me braggin’ about it when I’m in my late 20s, ay?”

“Whatever…” He rolled his eyes and sipped more of his beer.

“You’re a cool guy, Mikey. Remind me to keep in touch after this. I wouldn’t mind rolling around with your stupid circus show on the run.”

Michael raised an eyebrow at Trevor. He can’t be serious, right? His mind was puzzled at this request. He barely earned enough to live at a motel room for a week and this random guy wants to join the game like it’s nothing?

Fuck… He must be batshit insane.

“I guess I could use a partner.” He mumbled, hiding his surprise.

Mr Philips nodded his head and lifted his glass, “You won’t be disappointed, bro. Cheers.”

[p1hypen]

hi! can you do a reaction where p1harmony (hyung line or all members whatever you want!) get jealous thank you!! 💟

when he’s jealous — P1HARMONY!hyung line

what are the boys like when they’re jealous? ft. hyung line!p1harmony x gn!reader genre! jealousy, fluff w/c! 1435

a/n: hi anon, thank you so much for requesting this! i hope it’s to your liking, and i’m sorry for the wait. i was a little stumped at first and kept making edits to my writing so this is the result of that :) maknae line will be coming up soon be on the look out for that and enjoy!

keeho

keeho loved having a workout buddy to accompany him especially when it was his significant other. so when you approached him several weeks ago to inform him that you wanted to take your fitness journey more seriously, keeho was more than willing to take you under his wing and guide you through your workouts. in that time, you quickly grew accustomed to gym culture and developed your own routine to follow.

on the days that the two of you were training, you’d show up to the gym in matching fits. everything was domestically cute that would surely have you biting your first if you were single and didn’t have keeho by your side to experience all of this together. nevertheless, everything thus far has helped you to progressively mend your relationship with your body and healthy habits.

it was arm day, for keeho at least. you, on the other hand, were preoccupied with the last set of squats to end another successful leg day. keeho intently watched you in the reflection of the mirror as he maxed out on the reps of bicep curls. his eyes never leaving your form whenever you would sink down into a squat position and pause for a couple of seconds before coming back up. you repeated this action nine more times and each time keeho stared.

when you completed your last rep and placed the bar back on the rack, a stranger was quick to approach you with a sly smile that keeho wanted to slap right off his face. you were startled at first, expecting it to be none other than your boyfriend to give you celebratory butt pats. to your dismay it was some random guy that wasn’t keeho and could never come close in line to your boyfriend even if they tried.

he was nice— to say the least— and complimented your form, thoroughly impressed at the amount of plates that you could squat. you weren’t sure if it was backhanded or coming from a place of genuine, but you could only smile and nod.

when he raised his hand for you to hi-five him you were hesitant to do so, and instead opted to give him a fist bump. forced laughter spilled past your lips.

keeho recognized your uncomfortable demeanor and was quick to set the dumbbells back in their previous spot. with long strides, he approached you from behind and slid his arms around your torso, his chin resting on your shoulder with a deadpan expression. keeho didn’t miss the way the guy’s face fell and a victorious smirk found its way on keeho’s lips when the stranger so easily got the message that you were indeed taken. they left soon after, not without giving you a dry “alright, see ya,” and walking away shamefully. you sighed, relieved that the uncomfortable interaction ended.

keeho’s embrace on you tightened and he briefly squeezed your figure in a possessive manner. he pressed a lazy kiss onto your neck and your breath hitched in your throat. “i just knew that idiot wouldn’t leave you alone unless i did something.” your boyfriend audibly huffed in annoyance and grumbled under his breath. something along the lines of needing to find a more private gym that wasn’t as public as the current one you both frequently visit, because he doesn’t need any more guys developing a gym crush on you.

theo

you see, most professors would assign groups or allow individuals to work by themselves when it comes to projects. not pair people one-on-one. at least that’s what theo thinks. like, c’mon, it’s almost ridiculous.

“it is not,” you rolled your eyes and continued to type on the shared document between you and your partner. the soft tapping of your fingers dancing along the keys overlapping with the other white noises in the small coffee shop.

the two— sorry, three— of you were sharing a table in the corner of a cafe that a lot of other uni students frequented to. you, being one of them. almost all of the employees know you by now that they have your regular order memorized. it’s almost flattering but a little embarrassing given the fact that you’re always here due to school related purposes. today was one of those days. the only difference being out of the ordinary was that you were here to collaborate with your partner for the upcoming deadline of your project. and of course theo was here too for who knows why.

he bumped into you when your last class for the afternoon finished and has since then invited himself into your plans for the remainder of the day.

“sorry that took so long,” a masculine voice interrupts your thoughts and you look up to see hyunsuk carrying both of your drinks. the tallest of the trio slid into the chair next to yours and gently placed your drink near your laptop. you thanked hyunsuk and proceeded to update him about your recent findings on the topic of your assignment.

theo surveyed you from across the table with a sour expression. it was so obvious you were smitten, downbad horrendous, and whipped for this hyunsuk guy. hell, you literally have hearts in your eyes whenever you look at him. he watches intensely at the way hyunsuk leans in close whenever you show him something on your laptop, the way he pats your head and praises you for doing the bare minimum, and how he gives you that look that screams he’s just as interested in you as you are to him.

the scowl on theo’s face deepens and he crosses his arms, grunting under his breath and almost kicking hyunsuk in the shin. (curse his stupid long legs and 6 foot height).

theo weighs out his options: leave so that he no longer has to feel like a thirdwheel, or suck it up for the next two hours and stay to make sure that the flirty tension between you and hyunsuk doesn’t escalate any further. your giggling diverts theo’s attention and the wrinkles etched in his skin intensify even further. this was going to be a long two hours.

jiung

you and jiung shared a lot of mutual friends. reason being that the two of you attended high school together and were associated with the same group of people throughout those four years. there was one person in particular whom you were the closest with, and although much of your other friends may have placed a bet that you would end up dating each other, the outcome was shocking.

you and jiung started dating three months ago, and it was your idea to softlaunch the status of your relationship with him on instagram.

let’s just say, that day the group chat exploded and your notifications could not be put to rest.

jiung is not the type to get jealous easily nor showcase negative emotions around you. not because he doesn’t want to, but because as a virgo man he rather not put it on for display. you’re almost thankful for that part of his nature yet sometimes you wish you could also see the ‘bad’ parts to him.

everyone was gathered in yunjin’s living room after stuffing their faces with homestyle kbbq for dinner. jiung excused himself to use the bathroom and you were left to your own devices to talk with intak. he was showing you another one of his songs he wrote with a friend and you awed at the lyrical composition. by the time jiung finished his business in the bathroom and came back, you were too distracted browsing through intak’s notes of finished and unfinished songs to notice your boyfriend’s presence.

the blonde bit his lip, not wanting to disturb your peace and quietly sat there. five minutes passed and you were still too entranced with intak’s talent for songwriting that jiung decided to do something. he grabbed your hand to hold in his and you perked up at the familiar slim fingers entwining with yours. “hi babe!” you chirped. intak left your side to be the first in line for dessert leaving just you and jiung on the loveseat.

jiung was quiet at first and refused to speak but the pad of his thumb rubbing soothing circles onto your skin signaled he was listening to you. you look at him with curiosity and his eyes meet yours. “are you jelly?” you tease, poking his side and he frowns just a little. “no,” jiung grumbles. you hug his arm and press a chaste kiss to his cheek, snuggling closer to his side with a guilty smile.

tl;dr: keeho is the passive-aggressive type when he sees someone try to flirt with you. he’ll usually do some sort of pda that may be slightly out of character for him but his actions are sweet and hard to resist. theo is very much pouty and non-confrontational, he will keep to himself when jealous and tries to endure the torture of you with someone else. jiung is similar to theo but his facial expressions do all the talking for him, he tends to act distant in the face of jealousy but it never lasts long anyways.

[shokobuns]

“𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫?”

satoru likes to show off.

PAIRING(S): gojo satoru x f!reader x sukuna ryomen, ex fuck buddy!sukuna ryomen x f!reader, boyfriend!gojo satoru x f!reader

GENRE: smut, college!au, some fluff/humor

WORD COUNT: 2.7k

WARNINGS: smut, threesome (i think), voyeurism, dubcon (for voyeur), masturbation (m) unprotected sex, creampie, overstim, size kink, squirting, mentions of a blowjob, marking, gojo clingy asf in public, mentions of public sex, a lot of praise

“Oh, sorry— Sukuna?”

The strawberry blonde smirks at you and a familiar sense of uneasiness overcomes your body. Your hand shakes slightly, the liquid content making small sloshes that spill over the cup. He notices this first and grabs your wrist, his much larger hand steadying yours. “No first name basis anymore, Princess?”

You look back down at your feet, memories flooding through your mind of the old nickname that spills from his lips. You don’t miss him, you truly don’t, but you do know that he gets a kick out of your own humiliation and that’s what makes you feel nervous. He’s shameless and it’s impossible to stir a reaction of unpleasantness. And he pushes your buttons whenever he can with no effort.

It all reminds you of the time his cock would be stuffed down your throat nearly every night.

You hate remembering those times, simply because they were filled with undeniable pleasure and it was so easy for him to make you feel good. He helped you take your mind off of a certain white haired bastard during a time of conflicting feelings just by plowing you into his mattress — or into the wall of a bathroom — relentlessly, treating you as if you were just a doll. And he filled you to the brim every time, hot and warm, praising your tight little pussy, squeezing your throat while waves of euphoria crashed into you all at once. The memories make you shudder when they flood for just a moment, but a call of your name reminds you why you got the drink in the first place.

“Bunny! Over here!” he raises his hand, slouching and taking up space on the couch. You sigh because it’s definitely a move to get you to sit in his lap.

“Ah, I see. Have fun, Princess.” Sukuna’s hand pats your back, urging you forward to your boyfriend.

You mumble a quiet ‘Thanks’ before taking your spot on Satoru’s thighs, his arms caging in your body while his head rests in the crook of your neck, placing the occasional kiss. His hands keep a firm grip on your thigh and you lean into his touch like usual as he continues his conversation with Suguru. It’s a natural position for the both of you because one thing you learned about Satoru was that he loved to show off.

He loved to leave shameless marks where everyone can see them, loved to grope you in public, loved to hold you tight anytime he had the chance. And you enjoyed every minute, relishing the feeling of your boyfriend making assertions through acts of affection. He’s needy, clingy even, and there was something appealing about the way he would always display it. He takes pride in the fact he can read you like a book, noting small actions that signified big feelings.

So when a certain blonde haired bastard sat down three feet away from the two of you, chatting away about things you don’t even bother to listen to you, of course he notices how you hide your face into his chest slightly, making yourself seem smaller than you usually were. His fingers lace through yours, not without him taking note of how sweaty your palms are, and his thumb brushes over your hand comfortingly. A soft kiss is planted on top of your head mid conversation and Sukuna thinks it’s funny.

It’s funny how no matter times you’ve come apart under him, you still manage to find someone else, and it’s nothing about wanting your heart and your hand marriage, two things that Satoru wouldn’t hesitate to give you. It’s about how he knew that he was one of the best fucks of your life and as egotistical as it is, there’s some curiosity about if your current boyfriend was able to provide the same quality. Before you were Satoru’s love, you were Sukuna’s favorite plaything.

“You okay, Princess?” he asks, no sign of guilt shown on his face or heard in his tone.

“Princess?” Satoru questions, eyebrows raised, “Do you know him, Bunny?”

You sigh, readjusting your position until your arm is sling around his neck and he holds you almost like a baby in his lap. “Yeah. Had a class with him.”

To Sukuna, the situation went from funny to hilarious. So this is all Satoru would know. It’s not like he has a huge problem with your past relationship being undisclosed, in fact, he understands where the hesitancy comes from, but he’d rather watch everything unfold while you try to keep a straight face. It’s pure entertainment for him, but pure embarrassment for you and that’s exactly what amuses him.

“Seems like you two are friends or something, Baby.” He pouts, waiting for an actual answer. You glare at him, a silent plea for him to drop the topic. “Well, yeah. We had to work together on a few assignments, dumbass.”

“Ah, alright,” he makes a mental note to find out what’s bothering you later and continues on with his conversation with the two other men, observing Sukuna’s line of sight. He makes sure to plant extra kisses and light nibbles on the skin of your shoulder from time to time, each one eliciting small whines. Although he knows that the pink blonde wouldn’t care anyways, it’s an extra precaution and another silent assertion. It’s not the first time he’s interacted with Sukuna before and he has a feeling it wouldn’t be the last either.

-

“Bunny?”

You respond by humming into his chest, breathing in the entirety of his scent, you hand resting on the side of his cheek. His arm wrapped around your body protectively, legs tangled together and his body providing you with warmth. One hand strokes your hair as you adjust your head to look directly into his cerulean eyes which never failed to make you sigh. His lips are pursed together, as if he’s thinking of the right words to say, and you wait patiently for him to speak.

“How do you really know him?” he asks softly, “I won’t get mad, I promise.”

You take a deep breath in, an internal debate brewing in your mind, but you ultimately decide that it’s best to not lie to your own boyfriend. Especially if you wanted to marry him one day. “We were fuck buddies.” you mutter, just loud enough for him to barely hear you.

“Oh?” he smirked, his expression of concern replaced by curiosity, “When?”

“Well- uh,” you stumble over your words, the answer on the tip of your tongue. You’re not sure how he’ll react, but you’re already in too deep and you’ve already decided you wouldn’t lie to him. “We ended it months ago. Nothing to worry about it, plus if you know Sukuna, he’s not really the type to get attached, anyways.”

“That’s true,” he agrees, recalling each time he saw him with a new girl on his arm, “But exactly how many months ago?”

“S-Six.”

“Funny, that’s how long we’ve been dating, isn’t it?” he asks, an idea brewing in his mind.

“There was no overlap, I promise-”

“Don’t worry, Bunny. I know you wouldn’t do that,” he pauses, his mind overflowing with questions as he tries to pick out the next one, “How long?”

“A year.”

“Long time, huh?” he comments, “Did you love him?”

“No! I swear, Toru, I was trying to forget you!”

“Me?”

“Yes, you, dumbass! I was in love with you!”

“Aww, my little bunny had a crush on me.” he teased, kissing the crown of your head.

“Shut up!”

“Don’t worry,” his fingers rub circles into your hip reassuringly, “I had a crush on you, too.”

You smile while he readjusts your position until your back is to his chest with his chin resting on top of your head. His fingers interlace with yours, resting near your face. With one final kiss on your head, you’re just about ready to drift off.

“Does he fuck better than me?”

“Satoru!”

“I’m just asking!”

“No, no he doesn’t,” you close your eyes, before pressing your ass harder to his crotch, “You’re the best I’ve ever had.”

“Really?” he grins, bringing your body closer to his.

“Really.”

-

You weren’t lying.

And this is reaffirmed with every little moan that leaves your lips as he leaves kisses down your body. Satoru knows all of your sweet spots, his tongue swiping your bottom lip and entering your wet cavern, wet kisses down your neck, teeth sinking into the skin of your shoulder. His mouth latches on your nipple at the same time he shoves his length into your hole so suddenly. You’re already dripping down the sheets, walls fluttering while his thumb circles over your pearl. His mouth leaves you, your body still trembling from the sensation. “Already coming? I just put it in, Bunny.”

“Yeah,” you breathe out, “Feels s’ good, Toru.”

“Yeah?” he replies, his hands holding your waist as he starts driving his cock into you as if you were a doll. His mouth comes back to your breast, licking the little dark nubs before biting down on the soft flesh. You’re lightheaded while your tight cunny barely adjusts to the stretch, his thick cock making your back arch and your nails sink into his shoulder. Your vision is foggy, barely processing the other man sitting in the corner of Satoru’s bedroom.

One thing you notice is that he’s rough today. Of course, he’s always rough, but you’re sure there’ll be more purple blooming all over your body than usual. His hands squeeze the fat of your hips so hard that they’re already becoming sore, but he fills you up in a way that hits every single spot inside of you. Despite how big he is, your little cunny swallows him whole, sucking him in like a vacuum and he groans into your shoulder at the tight feeling. “So perfect for me, aren’t ya?”

“Cumming, Toru,” you whine out, an intense feeling of pleasure forming in your lower belly.

“Then cum. But I’m not stopping.”

You nod, tears spilling from your eyes and flowing down your face as your walls convulse and flutter around his throbbing cock. You’re staring into pools of blue that gaze back at your trembling body in awe and it all makes you feel like you’re floating. He wasn’t lying and you know this for sure because there’s no time to recover, not when he’s still pounding into your cervix like he has something to prove. Your tits jiggle with every thrust into your quivering hole, the headboard violently banging into the wall. It’s not that long until your second orgasm is crashing into you, Satoru’s fingers playing with your little clit. He really isn’t going to stop any time soon.

And finally, even though your eyesight is hazy, you make out the mysterious man in the corner of the room.

Sukuna.

He’s looking at you with dilated pupils, the pink tip of his cock weeping with precum, swiping it with every pump. His hips come up to meet his hand as he focuses on how your tiny pussy takes in Satoru’s cock over and over again. It’s the lewd sobs and squelches that fill up the air of the room and the slick staining the bed that cause him to groan involuntarily. He’s shameless, fucking his fist at the sight of you spread out and your boyfriend is right there. No wonder he’s fucking you like he has something to prove.

You told him that he was the best and, of course, he had to prove it. But not to you.

It doesn’t matter because you love the way he’s fucking you right now. There’s no time for you to rest, only Satoru rhythmically pistoning his cock into your creaming cunny while Sukuna watches closely, observing how your clenching hole takes him in. After using his mouth to litter your breasts with purple bruises, he pins your knees to your chest and his cock somehow reaches even deeper than before. His thrusts become faster and faster, more and more erratic while the sudden change in position makes you squeak. “Bet you love being treated like a fucking doll, huh, Bunny?”

“M-Mhm,” you squeal, unable to form a proper answer, “love it, s’much!”

Skin slaps against skin, another knot forming in your belly. Your clit is pinched between his fingers, making you sob out his name. His lips come down to kiss your open mouth while holding your body flush against him as your cunt gushes and squirts all over his stomach and your thighs. Your walls clamp down at the same time he stills, pumping his hot seed as far into you as he can. You’re milking him for all he’s worth and he lets out soft praises that make you flustered. The sticky mess leaks all over when he pulls out, but he doesn’t leave to get a towel like usual because he’s noticed that the man in the corner of the room is still hard despite the mess on his shirt.

“Bunny?”

“Hmm?” you respond, still taking deep breaths from the intense sex you had just seconds before.

“What do you think of giving your old fuck buddy a ride?”

You purse your lips. For one, you have Satoru’s permission, but one thing about Sukuna’s dick was that it was huge, bigger than your current boyfriend, and you’re not sure if you’d be able to take it again. But there’s a feeling of nostalgia that fills your chest seeing it all over again and you remember all the nights he’s given you before.

“What d’ya say, Princess?”

The old nickname prompts you to walk over, Satoru’s cum still dripping down your inner thigh, and straddle Sukuna’s lap. You steady yourself by holding onto his shoulder, slowly sinking your ruined pussy onto the tip and going down until you’re halfway through his cock. But he’s impatient, immediately gripping your hips and thrusting upwards, forcing you to take the entirety of his length. The stretch burns, it hurts like a bitch, but it only makes the experience even more thrilling.

Your head is thrown back and Satoru comes from behind, kissing your neck reassuringly while Sukuna takes control, fucking your boyfriend’s cum back into your womb. As two large hands guide you up and down his cock, your overstimulated cunny creams around him, tightening in a way that makes it harder for him to move. Satoru’s hands from from behind to play with your tits and it’s all so much, the different sensations coming together while you’re helpless, unable to differentiate who’s who. “You’re always so fucking tight, Princess,” he praises, groaning out as your walls clamp down. “Even after getting fucked by your little boyfriend, huh?”

Your pussy adjusts to his size just like before, a mix of your slick and Satoru’s leftover cum dribbling down Sukuna’s balls. He drives his cock into you with brute force, inconsiderate of the fact you’ve already been treated like a ragdoll. With one more brutal thrust, you’re melting, overcome by a feeling of pure bliss. He spills into you, the warm feeling in your womb making your head dizzy. “Good job, Princess.” he smirks as Satoru carries you off his lap bridal style and sets you gently onto his bed.

You’re just about ready to drift off, unable to make out the conversation of the two men in the room. Once Sukuna leaves with a wave and a ‘Thanks, Princess” you use the last of your energy to pull Satoru back on the bed and hold onto him like a clingy child. “What was that about?”

“Wanted to show that cocky bastard that I was the best.”

You laugh before pressing your lips to his cheek and appreciatively gazing at his pretty face. “But you are the best.”

“I know.” he smirks, returning the favor by bringing you into a wet kiss, “Round two? With just the two of us?”

“It’s round three for me, dumbass.”

“The offer still stands.”

“Yeah, sure. Why not?”

[moonctzeny]

baby, we're two strangers

pairing: jeong jaehyun x fem!reader

genre: smut

word count: 2,255

summary: "When you attend your company's black mask party, you expect free booze and boring small talk with your co-workers. What you don't expect is to meet a cute stranger, who's more than willing to take you out of your misery. You don't know anything about him, not even his name, only the two deep dimples adorning his cheeks"

warnings:  alcohol consumption, fingering, cunnilingus, smut in public (what else did you expect from me), jaehyun is a little on the subbier side at some point(??) but not really

a/n: happy birthday to our precious jaehyun! hope you like this anon, sorry it took so long :(

You always thought those business parties were a pain in the ass. You barely managed to go through 5 days a week with your co-workers without committing first degree murder, now you had to see them during your precious weekends too? The thought of you starting small talk with the lady at the front desk, or having to laugh with your boss’s terrible humour all night made you sick to your stomach. But alas, you know how much your supervisor loved those kinds of parties, and your wallet needed that promotion. He’d lecture you about how they cultivate group spirit and strengthen the company’s teamwork. You just saw it as an excuse to get drunk free of charge.

Catching your reflection in the mirror, you spot a stray hair that escaped the adhesion of your new hairspray, and you quickly brush it to place with your fingers. Your favourite black dress hugged your body, simple jewellery decorated your skin. You don’t even know why you bothered with eye makeup, the obligatory black mask for tonight’s dress code hiding most of your face already, with the exception of your red lipstick. You wonder whether the people who just quickly rushed by you in the hallways, too focused on their own deadlines and to-do lists would even recognize you.

The party was boring, just like you predicted. You’d given up long ago in trying to keep the conversation going with Matt from the IT department (who proved to be the most boring man on earth, apparently) and planted yourself right next to the booze table. You had your own little wine tasting party in the past hour, trying aged drinks from 10 years ago up to vins ordinaires. The alcohol relaxed your muscles and left a pleasant buzz in your head, effectively drowning out the dj’s playlist that only had hit songs from 2016. You were content in your solitude, satisfied with just staring at your co-workers interacting with each other, noticing who disliked who, who were the funny ones, who needed help with social interactions. But your comfortable loneliness wouldn’t last for long. 

“Mind if I join you?”

Ugh. Just what you needed. Matt from the IT department probably told his buddy, Ben - who keeps rudely staring at your skirts at work - that you’re here and informed him about your location. Maybe if you ignored him he would go away. Or maybe you’d just tell him that you suddenly need to go to the bathroom. Had he ever heard you speak? You wonder if he’d believe you if you told him you were deaf, actually.

You turned around to face the man, hoping that he didn’t know sign language when you finally made eye contact with him. This definitely wasn’t Ben. He was the most beautiful man you’d ever seen in your life.

He was tall, with loose curls adorning the top of his head. His porcelain skin seemed to absorb all the light in the room, then send it out three times as bright. He looked fit, his small waist cinched in with the buttons of his suit, filled in fully in all the right places. You could only manage a deranged hum that barely sounded human. 

Through the small holes of the black mask he was also wearing, you can tell he was staring at you. You tried to keep the eye contact but failed miserably, your heart picking up a pace that sure can’t be healthy.

“I don’t think I’ve seen you around. Do you work in the IT department on the bottom floor, maybe?”

You clear your throat, begging the wine in your system not to mess this up for you by making a fool of yourself. “I also work on the top floor. Maybe you just didn’t notice me before.”

“No no”, he insists, taking a sip from his drink as well while raking up and down at you with his eyes, “I would definitely remember”.

Your cheeks are burning up at this point and you leave your drink at the table, not trusting your clammy hands to not drop the 2017 Merlot all over the floor. You were done acting like boo boo the fool. You weren’t gonna let this one slip away.

“It’s weird, I don’t remember you either. And you seem like such nice company”

He smiles at your reciprocation and you almost gasp at the appearance of two deep dimples on his cheeks, framing his lovely smile. He looks like a mixture of a prince and what you pictured Edward Cullen to look like when you were reading The Twilight Saga as a teenager.

“What department do you work at, then?”

You have to roll your eyes. The wine has made you a little impatient, and the heat of your body was getting hard to ignore.

“Here’s the thing Dimples, one thing I really fucking hate is small talk. So how about you really entertain me out of this boring party?”

He seems taken aback by your sudden confidence, yet amused either way. He doesn’t miss the fact that you’re the one checking him out now, your whole body leaning against him.

“I figured I should be a gentleman first”

“I don’t want a gentleman. I need a distraction”

He flashes you those dimples again and you get the sudden urge to tackle him.

“I see. Wanna get out of here?”

You didn’t need to hear more. Taking his hand, you lead the mysterious stranger outside the hall area the party was held at, finding an empty bathroom. You felt naughty dragging a man - a stranger at that - to a place like this, reminding you of your days as a teenager. A cold breeze sneaking through the little window spread goosebumps all over the skin of your legs that was uncovered by your short dress, yet you were hyper aware of the heat emitted from the man’s body.

The moment your hands left the rotating lock, you felt his body towering over yours, then the pressure of his soft lips. He tasted sweet, like the liquor he had enjoyed earlier, his hands snaking around your waist to bring you even closer against him. You kissed with vigor and a passion that was burning in your belly, and you suck on his tongue to show him a sneak peek of your talents. He moans in your mouth, a deep rumble that you gladly swallow up, your fingers tugging on his locks in hope you get another one out of him.

You do, and he’s had enough, wrapping his hands around your legs and lifting you up on the counter. He’s sitting right between your legs, right where you want him most, and your dress has now well ridden up, only one layer between you. He seems to be thinking the same thing as his teeth are breaking the skin of your neck, one hand behind you on the mirror, staining the glass.

“Can I make you feel good?”, he asks with a voice filled with arousal and the want to please. In that moment, you wanted to moan out his name, followed by a ‘yes, please’ but you realised you never asked for it, and it didn’t really matter at this point. 

You nod back pleadingly, your eyes watery with how much you’re desperate for any sort of friction. He lifts the hand that had been kneading the soft skin of your hips, and places his thumb right over your lips. Like a reflex, your tongue peeks out from between your teeth, tasting the saltines of his finger. He moves it further inside, satisfied with the feeling and your tongue dancing around it, and when he has finally pushed half of it in you start to suckle the digit. 

The stranger’s eyes haven’t left your lips for a second, completely mesmerized by your mouth’s work and he messes up your red lipstick a bit, dragging his finger down your chin, leaving a red line behind. Dipping his thumb back in your mouth again, he lets you suck a little more until you have coated it with a satisfying amount of spit, then brings it right over your panties.

They are cotton, dampened from the moisture of his fingers and your own arousal. He applies pressure right over your clit, just enough to see you squirm on that counter, then continues to draw figure eights over the fabric. His finger dips in your opening on the lower curve of the number and you feel yourself get wetter, holding on tightly to the man’s broad shoulders and moaning in satisfaction.

He shuts you up with a kiss, nibbling on your lower lip as he pushes you panties aside, and you’re a little embarrassed with the printed watermelons they have on them. He toys with you a little, spreading your wetness around before finally dipping in, smirking at the way your head falls back. 

The heels of your feet are sitting stubbornly on the marble surface of the counter, knees next to your shoulders to give your new friend as much access as he needed. There was no time for you to be ashamed for showing him all of you, the pleasure was overflowing and ripping out your seams. He starts a trail of kisses from the junction of your next, sucking and licking his way to your chest, and frees one of your boobs with his other hand. The cold and arousal has your nipple stay erect and he seems to enjoy the view, sucking lightly and then harshly, while following the same pace petting your pussy. 

“Am I a good company?”, he asks you then, and you’d expect his tone to be teasing but it’s anything but. He’s looking back at you with wide eyes, expecting your feedback and you pet his hair, lowering his head down with the tiniest bit of pressure so that his mouth reconnects with your chest.

“You’re doing so good, baby. Are you going to make me cum?”

He nods eagerly and you lift him up with the collar of his shirt, and you know his expensive cologne will dwell on your fingers after you’re done. You bring him into a kiss, tasting his lips before you whisper over them.

“Then you have to try a little harder”

You could practically see the determination in his eyes, and he wastes no time as he immediately gets on his knees. His breath is cool over your hot core, the feeling sending tingles down your spine. The anticipation is so high that when his tongue finally comes in contact with your sensitivity you almost yelp. 

His talent isn’t limited to his fingers, you think as he leaves kitten licks over your clit, giving the bundle of nerves a gentle suck periodically. Just as you’re getting used to the soothing circles of his tongue he dips one more finger in, successfully stretching you open and you bite your hand to stifle your moans. You’re worried that your wetness will drip down to the floor but then you’re reminded of your panties, the friction of the fabric stimulating you even more. 

“I’m gonna cum”, you moan in a high pitched tone, bracing both you and the man feasting over you on his knees. One last suck and you’re thrown over the edge, legs shaking as you’re desperately trying to hold yourself in place, before you fall or crush his head with your thighs. He lets you ride out your high, still dipping his fingers in and out slowly, prolonging your pleasure as much as possible. When you both feel like you’re done he gets up again, drying up his chin that is wet with your come. The tent in his slacks is painfully visible, and you rub over it seductively as you also rub your still exposed nipple.

“How about I pay you back”

The stranger doesn’t have time to answer, a loud knock making you both jump in shock and you quickly get decent again.

“Is someone still in there? I really need to use the bathroom”

“Coming!”

“Yes!”

You facepalm at the dumb mistake, exposing yourselves so easily at the man on the other side of the door. He lets out a rumbling laugh, and if there was really such a thing as ‘the end of the world’ you wish to any god out there that it happens right now.

“Ahh, I get what’s going on. You keep at it kids, another bathroom became available just now. And use protection!”

You bury your face in the stranger’s shoulder, and you feel him laugh silently at the ridiculousness of the situation. He opens the door just a slither, and when he makes sure no one is waiting for you outside the bathroom, he leads you back to the main hallway.

“So that was…”

“...hot”, he finishes your sentence with a naughty smile and you swear those dimples are gonna kill you.

“My name is y/n”, you say and firmly shake his hand, the gesture too formal compared to the things you’ve just finished doing together, “I still want to thank you for that, if you do too, of course”

“Jaehyun”, he says right back, then rubs the skin right under your lips with his thumb, and his fingertip comes back red. “Sorry for that, I got a bit carried away. You have nice lips.”

“Thank you, Jaehyun”

[thefanficmonster]

Caring

Corpse Husband x Outgoing!Reader (Female)

Warnings: None

Genre: Soft Fluff

Summary: Corpse, while streaming, receives a question about how his relationship with Y/N is going, considering the two of them have very different views on the outdoors.

Requested: No

Sorry this is crappy you guys, it’s a rough idea that popped into my head and I just had to write it down. Hope you don’t hate it too much. Love, Vy XOXO

I smile when Ken kills me in electrical, finally being allowed the chance to look through the lightning fast moving chat. My eyes only manage to catch some of the flying comments and even less of the account names, but I try to reply to them all. It’s the least I can do to show my appreciation for these people. They are the kindest, most amazing, nicest and most supportive fanbase a YouTuber could ever ask for.

As I’m about to reply to another comment, I hear a familiar voice from down the hall call out to me. Well, speaking of kind, amazing, nice and supportive people...

“I’m going jogging with Chevy, babe!“ my girlfriend of seven months, Y/N calls out to me.

“Alright, be safe!“ I call back to her, smiling despite knowing she can’t see me. 

I wait to hear the front door shut before continuing with what I was doing. Now the comments are flooded with questions and greetings for Y/N. My smile widens when I read all the gushing and shipping that has now taken over my stream chat. 

I always thought I wouldn’t want to make my relationship public with my fans when I got in one. Spoiler alert: three months in, I could no longer keep my trap shut about her and how amazing she is. About how lucky I am. Y/N has always left those things up to me. She’s never been the type to care who knows and who doesn’t or what people say about her. She knows the true value of things and doesn’t let other people’s involvement change that. So when she gave me the green light, I dropped a bomb on my fans by posting a picture of her on my Instagram and captioning it: ‘The love of my life’. Despite her carefree nature, she sat off social media for a good day or two until I coaxed her into giving in and accepting all the support and love my fandom was prepared to shower her with.

“Yeah, she’s great. Chevy is too.“ When Y/N entered my life, she brought along her beauty of a husky - Chevy. I immediately fell in love with her, it was hard not to, she’s a very smart and sweet dog and a lot friendlier and younger than she looks. She looks like she could kill you, but she’s a cinnamon roll.

Y/N on the other hand looks like a cinnamon roll, but she could kill you.

“She loves you too. You make the both of us really happy. I hope you know that, guys.“ I feel genuine butterflies when I say that. It’s been four months now and I still can’t fathom all the love and support. It’s unreal.

The Among Us round continues with no one susing the imposters that are keeping things on the down-low, suggesting this is gonna be a long and torturous round. I’m honestly glad for my death cause now I have the chance to interact with my fans more.

As I’m scanning the chat, my eyes land on a comment that is quite intriguing. I read it out loud: “How do you and Y/N make your relationship work with all the differences between you?”

I almost find it funny how people think that her love for the outdoors changes anything between us. “It doesn’t pose as a hinderance of any kind. Obviously, we make compromise for one another every now and then. Like, sometimes I go with her on her jogs. Other times, instead of going out, she stays home to have a lazy movie evening with me. To be honest, I most like taking care of her when she forgets to do it herself. Like reminding her to put sunscreen on or treating her burns when she doesn’t. Massaging her shoulders after a day of working out in nature. You know, things like that.” I pause to take a sip of my water, hoping it will cool down my burning hot cheeks. “She has a way of storytelling, it can get me to catch at least a couple hours of sleep. She keeps track of how much time I spend staring at screens and makes sure I take breaks and not starve myself.” I sigh in content, shaking my head with what I believe is disbelief, “I love her. I haven’t said it to her yet, but I think she already knows. I’m just that obvious.”

I get a little nervous of looking at the comments now. I wasn’t planning this outpour of adoration from me, but I am sure my fans are going to understand how hard it is for me to keep such overwhelming emotions hidden and unexpressed.

“Corpse, buddy, not that we’re complaining or anything, but could you mute your mic next time you plan to gush about your girlfriend. It’s just that ten different fandoms are now gushing about you and her as well. You should see my chat right now.“ Felix laughs, making my face go even redder. “Lobby, can I get an amen?!“

“Amen!“ the eight other people in the lobby agree in unison through laughter and teases.

@susceptible-but-siriusexual  @simonsbluee  @save-the-sky  @hacker-ghost  @itsminniekat  @bi-andready-tocry  @imtiredaffff  @jazzkaurtheglorious  @hereforbeebo

[jisungsplatforms]

[Chapter III: Hyunjin & Felix- Certified FBI Agents (or b*tches)]

Pairing: Producer/Music Major! Han Jisung x Photographer! fem! reader

Genre: NSFW! Smut; non idol au, college au, strangers to lovers

Warnings: Mature Content! strong language, phone sex, masterbation (m&f) + guided masterbation, use of adult toys

Chapter Word Count: 3.9k

Taglist: @hyunjeongins @seungstarss @es-kay-zee @hyunjinsplaything @formidxble @freckledquokka @lbxgsunshine (want to be added? send an ask or a dm! <3)

Filthy. You felt absolutely filthy.

You met a cute guy through text- as in an unknown dude you merely glanced at a random party. You sent certain texts to the cute guy- as in, a stranger you just met last night. You masterbated to the cute guy- as in, a man you barely even knew. Worse of all, you’re still thinking about said cute guy and how he affected you in a way you’ve never felt before.

But you loved it.

The next morning, you walked through the halls with a tight chest. Your heart beat rapidly at the thought of seeing your red beanie cutie, or rather, Jisung, in person. ‘Why the hell am I so nervous?’ You gripped your camera bag closer to your form as you made your way to your chemistry class.

“Y/n!” You heard deep voice say. You looked up to see Felix and Hyunjin waving to you. As you were about to greet the two, another person called out your name.

“Y/n!!” It was from a voice you’ve never heard before. You turned around to see Jisung running up to you with a cute smile, his red headphones dangling around his neck as he ran. Your eyes widened. You were about to greet him when he ambushed you with the biggest hug ever. “Good morning, Y/n! It’s so nice seeing you in person!”

‘How warm...’ you thought as you closed your eyes and returned his hug. You had to refrain yourself from whining out a complain when he let go of you. “How are you? Did you sleep well last night?” he asked, placing his hands on your shoulders.

Your mouth was agape. You stared into his pure, star-y eyes, speechless. ‘No way is this the same dude I was sending dirty texts to’. He looked at you expectantly, head tilted, waiting for your response. ‘Fuck. He’s so damn cute!’ “O-oh,” you stammered. “Yeah! I did sleep...good...last night…”

“Awesome! Me too! I really had fun talking with you,” he smiled, his words seemingly innocent. You could only blush. Oh if anyone knew the truth behind his words. “Speaking of talking, let’s hang out later so we can get to know each other a little more!”

“R-really? I mean- great! Yeah, let’s hangout later!” you nervously said.

“Yes! I’ll see you later, Y/n!” Jisung gave you another hug before leaving, waving to you as he walked further away from you. You weakly smiled as you waved back. ‘Why am I so awkward?’ Sighing, you turned around to see Felix and Hyunjin gaping at you. ‘Oh, right. Forgot about them’.

“Morning guys,” you stiffly greeted.

“Uh-good morning to you too, Y/n?” Felix replied. “So...How did the party go?”

You glanced at Hyunjin for a brief moment. “Oh, You know. Same old same old. Loud music. Lots of alcohol. People getting drunk, making out, fucking. Kinda what you expect in a typical college party in those cheesy tv shows.”

“Okay, cut the crap, Y/n,” Hyunjin intervened. “Since when did you and Jisung get close? Did something happen between you two?”

Felix nodded. “Yeah, I have never seen you two interact before today. Something happened during the party that you’re not telling us!”

“What’s this? An interrogation?” you said accusingly, “Nothing happened! We just happened to meet yesterday and got each other’s phone numbers. That’s all!”

“Liar,” Hyunjin scoffed. “I know Jisung. He wouldn’t be so buddy-buddy with someone he just met in less than 24 hours- especially to that extent. Something happened! I know it!”

You rolled your eyes. “Whatever. You wouldn’t remember cause you were dead drunk last night.”

“Seriously, man?!” Felix laughed. “Is that why you were complaining about having a headache?”

“Y/n!” Hyunjin whined. “Look what you did!”

“Not my fault! You kept pestering me!”

“Okay. Okay. Let’s stop now,” your freckled friend pushed you two apart. “We’re gonna be late!”

The bell rang, signaling the end of class...and the continuation of Felix and Hyunjin’s interrogation.

“Tell us.”

“Tell us.”

“Yeah, tell us.”

“Time to tell us~.”

“Come clean, Y/n~.”

“The truth shall set you free~.”

“Are you guys fucking serious?” you said exasperatedly. The boys corned you against the wall like FBI agents. Or more like those cliché high school bullies. Either way, it was suffocating. “I told you! Nothing noteworthy happened! We met, then talked, then texted, and that’s it! End of story!”

“Hm…” Hyunjin looked at you suspiciously. “I smell cap.”

“Something else happened. We can feel it,” Felix said with a sly grin.

“God! You’re both so annoying!”

The boys laughed. “We wouldn’t be so annoying if you just told us!” Hyunjin defended, making you groan.

“Geez…” you muttered as you rubbed your temples.

“Hey! No bullying in the halls!” You all turned to see Minho walking towards you three with an annoying grin.

Felix scoffed before chuckling. “Like you’re one to talk.”

“Wait, Minho!” Hyunjin gasped. “You were sober last night. What happened between Y/n and Jisung?”

“They fucked.”

The younger boys gasped in shock, turning to you in disbelief. Meanwhile, you scowled at Minho’s terrible attempt at a joke. You sighed, “First of all: NO, we didn’t. Second of all, don’t lie to them like that, you asshole.” Minho bursted out in laughter while the other two stared in confusion.

“So...y’all didn’t fuck?” Felix asked.

“NO!”

“Then what happened?!”

“Why do guys wanna know so bad?” Minho asked.

Hyunjin pouted. “Because! It’s just a little weird how those two talked as if they’ve known each other their whole lives.”

“What? What did they do?”

“We just witnessed Jisung coming out of nowhere and hugging Y/n as if they were long lost lovers,” Felix explained.

“Oh?” Minho raised a brow, smirking. “What did you two do to make him act like that?”

“Not you too!” you cried. “Why are you all so hung up?!”

“Because this is Han Jisung we’re talking about! I told you, he’s a shy boy, so it’s just surprising to see him warm up to you so fast!”

“Right?!” Hyunjin said. “It took him a while to warm up to us! That’s why we wanna know.”

You sighed in irritation for the nth time. The once playful interaction was now getting on your nerves. “Alright, no more bullying Y/n, losers. Only I can,” Minho said, patting your back. “I was just joking with you all. Honestly, Jisung thought Y/n was cute so I did little bit of an exchange and they hit it off, I guess.”

Hyunjin muttered, “Still doesn’t explain why he was so clingy with Y/n but whatever.”

Minho shrugged. “I don’t know either. Connection or something.”

“Hmm...Fine,” Hyunjin and Felix said. You let out a breath of relief. Finally…The school bell rang again, making Felix and Hyunjin panic.

“Shit. Let’s go, Hyunjin!” Felix hissed, pulling the taller male with him. Once they left your field of sight, you turned to Minho with a tired expression.

“My Lord, I offer you my sincerest thanks.”

He shrugged nonchalantly. “I know I’m the best. You’re welcome,” he said smugly. “Now that they’re gone...Tell me all the dirty shit you guys sent.”

You stared blankly at him. “What?”

“Come on, you don’t think I know? I’ve been friends with you and Jisung long enough to know where this would go. Now spill.”

Your face grew hot as Minho continued to stare you down with a smirk. “Do I have to?”

“Yes! I hooked you two up, so I need to know the details! Not too graphic though.”

You gave him a pouty look. “No.”

“Boo…” Minho chortled. “You’re lame.”

“Fuck off.”

“Hey. Be nice. I’m the reason you now have a fuck buddy.”

“Again. Fuck off, you little-” You stopped yourself when you saw a familiar figure with red headphones infront of you. “Jisung!” Minho whipped his head around to see Jisung walking toward the two of you. Your friend offered you a knowing smile. He wiggled his eyebrows at you, prompting you to subtly shove him.

“Oh, hi Y/n! Hi Minho!” Jisung smiled, nodding his head.

Minho waved. “Hey, Ji.”

“What’re you doing? Don’t you have a class?” you asked Jisung.

“Eh...My lit teacher is out so we have a free period today. What about you guys?”

“Same here,” Minho said. “Trig teacher out, Minho out.”

The two of you giggled at Minho’s choice of words. “How about you, Y/N?” Jisung asked.

“I, uh, have a free class.”

“Oh, really?” the blonde haired boy exclaimed, his eyes widened excitedly.

“My literature teacher is out too, so yeah. Boom, I’m free.”

“Wait…” Minho said. “Who’s English class are you guys in?”

You and Jisung answered at the same time. “Mrs. Jung.” Minho stared at the both of you expectantly, waiting for the realization to kick in. And eventually, it did.

“Hold on, you have Mrs. Jung too?!” You both yelled.

Minho chuckled. “Finally. How did you two not notice each other before?”

Shrugging, you said, “I don’t know. Maybe it’s the fact that it’s a lecture hall filled with 30 plus people? Of course we wouldn’t have known.”

“Pff, still surprising though.”

Jisung gasped then faced you. “Oh, Y/n! Since we both have a free class, why don’t we hang out now?” he asked, his fingers twiddling with the drawstrings of his white hoodie.

“Oh right. Yeah, we could,” you said. “Wanna come along, Min?”

The older male waved you off. “Pass. Don’t wanna be there to see you two fuck.”

“Minho!”

“Dude!”

You and Jisung felt embarrassment run throughout your bodies, unappreciative of Minho’s joke. He, however, enjoyed the response he got from you both. “Don’t deny it! We’re all adults still in school. We gotta relieve the stress somehow.”

“Stop!”

“Minho!”

Minho bellowed out with laughter, beginning to walk away. “I’m just gonna go to the library. See ya, lovebirds! Remember, no sex in public areas! We’re still at school!”

“Hyung, you fucker!” Jisung called out as you sigh. As Minho walked further away, throwing you both a sly smirk as he did, Jisung started pulling you to face him. “Uhm. Sorry about him, Y/n,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck.

You chuckled, “Nah, it’s fine. I know what he’s like too.”

“So…Since we’re both free for the period. Shall we?” he bowed like a sophisticated nobleman offering to dance with a maiden at a ball. You giggled, curtsying to play along.

“We shall, kind sir.”

Jisung smiled, standing up straight to meet your eyes. He started to walk again. “Awesome! I mean- excellent. I know a wonderfully secluded place where we may chat amongst ourselves.”

“‘Chat’?” you asked cheekily. “Are you sure that’s not code for something?”

Jisung’s face glowed red. “No!” he panicked. “No no no. I swear I didn’t mean anything by that! I just genuinely wanted to talk to you. No sexual innuendos whatsoever!”

You couldn’t help but laugh at his shyness. “Relax. I was just messing with you, Jisung.”

“Oh,” he sighed in relief. You laughed even more when you saw his shoulders slump.

“Sorry, but you were just so cute, I couldn’t help it.” Before any of you could dwell on your words and grow flustered, you dragged him through the hallways. “Let’s go? I’m dying to see this ‘wonderfully secluded’ place you’re talking about.”

Jisung led you outside of the building, towards the garden near the back of the campus. “Oh wow,” you breathed, taking in the serenity of the area. “I didn’t even know we had a garden here.” You reached your hand out to run your fingers against the sea of Hydrangeas.

“Right?” he chuckled as he led you down the concrete path. “I didn’t even know about it either until the beginning of the school year.”

“How’d you find it?”

“I-uh-found out about it when I was hiding from Changbin.”

“Changbin?” you looked at him in surprise. “The sweet, muscle-y dude that wore all black at the party?”

“Pff, ‘sweet’ but yeah. Him. I’d...rather not talk about what I did to make him hunt me down.” Jisung shivered as if he had relived a horror movie. You snorted at his reaction, finding it funny. “Yeah...but ever since I found the place, I come here when I feel overwhelmed with life or need inspiration. So, a lot,” he snickered.

The two of you walked further into the garden until you reached an empty patch of grass. “And...here we are!” Before he let you sit, he took off the mismatched flannel he was wearing over his hoodie and laid it on the ground. “After you,” he gestured to it. You laughed as you sat down, finding the act sweet.

“Thank you!”

The two of you spent the last 80 minutes getting to know each other and it felt like it was the fastest 80 minutes spent. You learned about each other’s passions, dreams, fears, everything. Nothing sexual mentioned at all, not even the sinful deeds you’ve both committed the night before.

“Okay okay. Favorite color?” you joked, laughing when Jisung rolled his eyes.

“Really? Are you running out of questions?” he playfully sneered at you.

“Just answer!”

“Red. What’s your favorite subject?”

“Photography, duh. I am an aspiring photographer,” you lightly shoved him with your shoulder which made him chuckle. “Oh! Speaking of, can I take a few pictures of the garden? It’s pretty and I might need them someday.”

“Go ahead.”

You snapped some pictures of the different areas of the garden, taking extra attention to the pink Azaleas and other flowers in the vicinity. Wanting to ask Jisung a question, you turned around to find him already staring at you like a love-struck fool. The both of you blushed; you didn’t even remember what your question was anymore. You heard Jisung chuckle timidly under his breath. Getting the pictures you were looking for, you went back to Jisung, who was now laying down with his eyes closed. Finding the way he looked so relaxed pleasing, you snapped a quick shot of him sunbathing under the cool skies with the flowers swaying in the background. Remembering what you wanted to ask him, you were about to ask him your question before the bell rang. “Crap. second period already ended?”

“For real, right?” Jisung said, looking at the building. “Didn’t even feel like an hour passed.”

“Yeah…” you whispered. You walked back to where Jisung was at to grab your things.

“Where are you going?” you looked up to see Jisung sitting up and giving you his doe eyes- which made your heart thump.

“Don’t you wanna eat?”

“Nah,” he said as he laid back down on the makeshift blanket, closing his eyes. “I’d rather stay here and talk to you more.” You heard him whisper. You felt giddy at the fact that he wanted to spend more time with you. “Oh!” he quickly sat up to look at you. “But if you’re hungry, we can totally go to the canteen!” You lightly nodded, feeling your stomach growl.

“Sorry but I didn’t eat breakfast...”

“No problem! That’s why I said we can go!” He stood up and gathered up his things from the ground. He picked up the flannel and dusted it off. “Ready?” He stuck his left arm out for you to take. You giggled as you wordlessly looped your right arm with his. You snuggled closer to his arm, catching a whiff of his cologne. You felt so safe with him, despite only knowing each other for a day.

And that scared you.

You sat on your desk, writing your notes. The black inked pen glided smoothly on the lined parchment. The only source of light was the white lamp on the left side of your desk. Sighing, you stopped writing, feeling the need to sleep overcome you. You placed your pen down and rubbed your face. The chair lightly screeched as you stood up. You switched your lamp off then climbed to your bed, not even bothering to clean up your study space.

As you pulled your blanket over your body, your phone pinged. You turned your head to check the time on the clock. ‘9:57p.m.’, it read. Your eyebrow ticked in irritation. Grabbing your phone, you wanted to text the person the kindest ‘fuck you’ until you read the name.

Message from Min’s ho3

Seeing that it was from Jisung, you abruptly sat up to reply to him, internally cringing at the fact you were so desperate for him. ‘I need to change this dude’s contact name’ you laughed silently. Your phone unlocked and immediately directed you to the message.

Min’s ho3: u up?

Me: Yeah, I am.

I was about to sleep tho ngl

Min’s ho3: fr? dang you sleep early lol

reminds me of seungmin

You scoffed.

Me: It’s not even that early!

Min’s ho3: hmmm yeah it is... 🤗

Me: Excuse me?

Min’s ho3: jkjk

anyways. how are you? wanna chat?

or if you really wanna sleep, thats fine too

Me: Nah. I’d rather stay and talk to you than sleep

You smiled, wondering if Jisung would get your reference.

Min’s ho3: ohhh you make me blush. really using my own words against me, baby?

Me: What? Did that bother you?

What are you gonna do? Punish me?

You squirmed on your bed, squeezing your legs together after sending that risqué text. You were nervous if Jisung didn’t want to reciprocate your feelings...But you knew he would. Of course he would.

Minho’s ho3: it didn’t bother me before, not even a little, but now?

call me

In a flash, you pressed on his contact and tapped on the telephone icon under the picture-less grey icon. The texts faded and changed to the call screen. Your phone only rang once before Jisung answered.

“Baby…” his voice sounded raspy, sending a delightful chill up your spine. ‘Shit…’

You cleared your throat before speaking. “Jisung?”

“Nuh uh. Don’t ‘Jisung’ me, baby,” he spoke. His voice held an air of authority in it, causing your core clench around nothing. “Are you asking for a punishment?” You nodded your head, not even realizing he couldn’t see you. “Hm, baby? What’s wrong? Cat got your tongue all of a sudden?”

“N-no?”

“No? Then answer me. Are you asking for a punishment, angel?”

“N-no…”

Jisung scoffed. “Well too late now, baby,” he said. “Take off your pajamas for me.” You dropped your phone and slowly stripped off your shorts and underwear. You kicked them to the side of your bed and shivered, feeling the cold air hit your wetness. “Off, babe?”

“Y-yeah,” you whimpered. “They’re off.”

“Good. Do you have any sex toys?”

You felt your face heat up. The thought of you revealing to anyone that you own them was humiliating. “I- yeah. Yeah, I do.”

“Then use it.”

You hesitantly reached under your bed for your dildo. Embarrassment filled your chest. ‘I’ve used it before. Why am I so ashamed to use it now?’ Before you could insert the purple silicone toy inside you, Jisung spoke.

“Don’t fuck it just yet, beautiful. Want you to tease yourself first.”

You huffed in frustration, not liking how Jisung stopped you but still listened to him. You brushed the dildo on your clit, sighing when you felt the stimulation. You continued rubbing yourself, your hips raising once in a while. Through the phone, you could hear Jisung panting, signaling that he started touching himself as well. The thought made you wetter. “Fuck. Jisung,” you whimpered, biting your lip.

“Not yet, baby,” he sighed. “Keep playing with yourself until I tell you otherwise.”

You wanted to cry. The feeling was good but didn’t want anymore teasing. You moved the toy from your clit to your core, teasing your entrance. You felt yourself clench when it touched you. “Jisung…” you pouted, wanting him to give you permission to fuck yourself.

“I said not yet, brat,” he growled, faintly hearing wet slapping in the background. “Keep asking and you’re not gonna cum at all.”

All you could do was to shut up, not wanting to piss him off any further. You threw your head back, toying with your clit again. You whined and moaned, feeling the beginning of your release bubbling. You called out Jisung’s name again, warning him that you wanted to cum.

“Close already, baby?” he chuckled darkly. “So fast.” You put more pressure on your sensitive bud, core clench rapidly. You were on the brink of cumming when…

“Stop.”

As if you were possessed by his words, you immediately removed the dildo from your clit, making you whine. Tears began streaming down your face at the loss of your orgasm. ‘That fucking sadist’.

Hearing your sniffles, Jisung laughed darkly. “Aww,” he sarcastically sympathized. “Were about to cum?”

“Y-yes…” you said quietly, trying not to back talk to him in case he decides to be crueler to you.

“You were? Aw, I’m sorry, darling,” Jisung snickered. “How about I let you fuck your dildo, hm? To make up for it?”

“Yes, please!”

“Then go for it, angel.”

Finally, you let the silicone toy invade your sopping pussy, letting out a loud moan as it slowly entered you. Hearing your cries of pleasure made Jisung throw his head back with a moan of his own, loving the sinful sounds that escaped your lips. He stroked his cock faster when we heard another moan from his phone.

“Oh shit, Y/n,” he hissed. Your eyes rolled back when you heard him, moving the toy faster inside you. Because of your denied orgasm prior, it didn’t take too long for you to grow close to your second attempt of a release. You moaned, your core clench tighter and tighter with every pump.

“Jisung!” you cried. “‘M so close! Shit!”

“W-wait. ‘Want you to hold it,” Jisung ordered. His breath was heavy, hips bucking as he drew nearer to his orgasm. “Want to- fuck. Wanna cum together, baby.” The thought of cumming together sounded hot. You tried slowing your movements only by a little, still keeping the strength of each thrust. That proved to be useless, however, because you could still feel the warmth in your lower stomach grow hotter and tighter. You bit your lip, feeling the need to scream.

“Jisung, please!” you were full on sobbing at this point, the need to cum was overpowering.

“Shit, ‘m close, Y/n!” he moaned. “J-just a little more!”

Fuck it. You snapped your wrist faster, hoping that Jisung would hurry and catch up to you. On the other line, Jisung was nearing his end, spurred on by the sound of your filthy cries of his name. His hand pumped himself faster, twisting when he was at his tip. Hearing your breathy moans and whines was driving him mad. It was addicting; so addicting that it was the main reason why he was moaning quieter-just to hear you.

“Holy fuck- Y/n!” Jisung cried, his dick spurting steaks of white all over his hand and stomach. Hearing him moan brought you to your own release, twisting and twitching as you cummed around the purple dildo. You called out his name the same manner he did. You shook, quietly whimpering, as you continued to ride out your orgasm until you slowly pulled it out of you. The both of you could only hear the sound of each other’s heavy breathing through your phone. Jisung was the first to speak, though he was still too breathless to speak completely coherent.

“Ah-shit. D-did you feel good, Y/n?”

You hummed as an answer, not having enough energy to do or say anything. The round cheeked boy giggled when he realized this. His chest surged with pride. He smiled lazily to himself. “Really? Sweet,” he sighed. “I’ll go now to let you sleep, yeah?”

You hum again in acknowledgment. “Goodnight, beautiful. Sleep tight.” You closed your eyes, listening to the sound of your phone beeping, signifying the end of your call. As you sat up to clean yourself up, you caught sight of your messages with Jisung.

‘Crap, what am I doing with this boy?’

[PREVIOUS CHAPTER] 📱 [NEXT CHAPTER]

[ppersonna]

repentance - knj | m

now, let's imprint my name on that trophy and come back home - come back home, BTS

↳ summary- your boyfriend, Kim Namjoon, doesn’t like it when you flirt with other guys

↳ rating- explicit / 18+

↳ word count- 6k

↳ pairing- namjoon x reader

↳ genre- smut, this is all smut, there is nothing but smut here, there is no god in this chili’s tonight. this actively takes us further from the light.

↳ warnings- very hard BDSM, name calling, degradation, humiliation, spitting, caning/spanking, collaring, bondage, squirting, overstimulation, impreg kink lmfao, face fucking,  Namjoon is a v sadistic dom but he is still sane, after care is important,

↳ a/n- well folks.  here it is.  The fic that pushed me past my comfort zone lmfafskadf.  i am 100% grateful to @sombreboy​ for assisting me with this and being silly as fuck in the google doc.  i could not have done it without his guidance lmfaooo.  this was requested by anon and i hope i did it justice and i rly appreciate getting sent things that make me write things i normally wouldn’t!  thank you for believing in me lmfao.  pls feel free to interact with me however u want bc i love you all.  Thanks for reading! namjoon if ur reading this pls forgive me

“I hope you had your fun, doll,“ Namjoon whispers harshly in your ear as you walk with him away from the dance studio.  You’re covered in sweat, hot, and still you’re shaking like a leaf at the tone of your boyfriend’s voice.

So maybe you broke the rules.  Maybe you danced with Jimin at practice a little too intensely, a little too provocatively.  Maybe you grinded up against the blonde harder than you should, making the dancer sport a tent in his pants.

And maybe you did it in front of your boyfriend, that man who loved and dominated you.

Is it too late to say oops?

Namjoon is silent on the drive home.  His face is expressionless, but his eyes give it away.  He looks a touch angry, a touch excited, but he mostly radiates possession.  If there’s something that Namjoon hates, it’s sharing you.  

Your playful flirting with Jimin had been just that—playful.  Jimin was your dance partner going on 10 years now, ranging from ballroom to jazz and tap, to contemporary and international.  Jimin was always your go-to guy, best friend, and occasional fuck buddy.  Namjoon knew this, knew the history between you two, but still allowed you your freedom in dancing and competing with the blonde.  Sometimes it was just so easy to fall back on old habits, when you’d grind on Jimin so hard that he’d rip your shorts down and take you against the hardwood floor of the studio.

Even though you were quite happy in your relationship with Namjoon, it was hard to re-route the synapses that led elsewhere when you were dancing.  

But you loved Namjoon, and you had for a long time.  It was something you were working on, the flirting and the carelessness.  Namjoon was supportive, loving, and a natural caretaker.

He was also a sadistic Dominant.  

Where Namjoon was sensitive, sweet, communicative and giving in the streets, he was disgusting and filthy and downright heinous in the sheets.

And you loved every single aspect of it.  There was nothing that thrilled you more than the control he wielded on you, the power in his gaze and in his hand, and the possession he took of you.

It was the reason none of your relationships worked out before him.  Sure, there had been pleasant guys and excellent fucks like Jimin.  But Namjoon was the entire package, plus some.  You trusted him with your entire life, your whole being.  He grew up alongside you, and you knew the man would rather injure himself than ever cause you harm.

It’s what made the punishments, the pain, even more delicious.  He took you to your breaking point, sometimes even further, because he knew you could take it.  And you trusted, loved and adored him for it.  

But that didn’t mean it was easy.  

No, while the punishments and pain were fun in the long run, they still sent a thrill of fear down your spine.  

It’s been awhile since you got your boyfriend this worked up.  Things had been pretty smooth sailing for the last few months.  Sure, he was still a maniac in bed, but it was the scripted and practiced scenes you both knew by heart.  Schoolgirl, nurse, secretary.  

But this was real.  Tangibly real.  You could feel the tension rolling off his toned body, the heat of it ensnaring you, tying you up tight.

You want to apologize, open your mouth and begin the litany of sorry’s and I didn’t mean to’s, but your throat felt dry.  You knew it was useless to try now, and the act might make him more upset.  

The punishment he would inflict upon you would absolve you, baptize you of your sins.  He’d sacrifice your flesh to be remade.

The car pulls into the garage of your shared home.  Namjoon parks, closes the heavy door behind the car, then sits in the car staring straight ahead.  

He’s silent for a moment.  It puts your nerves on edge and he knows this, knows you hate the silence more than anything else.

“You are going to get naked.  Right now.” He orders, still not facing you.  He focuses his eyes on the wall of your garage.  “You will leave your dirty clothes outside where they belong.  And you will crawl from the car into the house.”

You nibble at your lip, waiting for more instructions.  He turns and levels a look at you, and your body lights with fire.  

“I want you to retrieve your collar and the handcuffs and bring them to me in the bedroom. You will get in position for me.”

He looks at you once more, seeking your eyes for any sign of fear, anything to tell him he’s going too far.

While your heart races, you nod and swallow tightly. You’re scared but not enough to stop him. You have a safe word for a reason but you haven’t needed to use it yet and you trust Namjoon more than you trust yourself.

He takes stock of your agreement and exits the car, leaving you alone as he trudged up the stairs leading to the house.

It takes one shuddering breath before you step out of the car, peel your sweaty workout clothes off, and slide down to your knees. There're cameras in the garage for security, and you know he’s watching them to ensure you’re listening to his orders.  

The floor of the garage is dirty.  You take one movement forward and look at your hands to find they’re already covered in black soot from the dirt and oils of the car tires driving in and out.  You make a face but quickly pull out of it. This is your punishment.

You crawl up the steps and gingerly open the door, then make your way to your linen closet where your collar and handcuff remain when you’re not at home.

Namjoon gifted you with a home collar and a public collar. The public collar is a beautiful diamond circle pendant that hits right at the hollow of your throat.

The home collar, however, is made out of a study leather material, embedded with gorgeous diamonds.  It’s heavy against your throat when you wear it.  It’s a constant reminder of your subservient relationship to your Dom, your boyfriend.

The handcuffs hang from their specified hook.  Black leather with chains connecting the cuffs.  They’re strong, incredibly so, and the thought of being locked up makes your core tighten in excitement and fear.

With the items secure in your grasp, you return to your kneeling position and continue crawling towards the bedroom where your boyfriend awaits. Something inside you bubbles fiercely—what does he have planned for you?  It’s been awhile since you’ve been quite literally at his mercy.

Namjoon is standing in front of the bed, arms crossed over his chest as you enter the room. You keep your eyes down, not making contact until he instructs for you to do so. You can feel the power and heat oozing off him, surrounding him like a cloud of authority. You approach and sit in front of him, knees spread wide and sat back on your heels.  Your hands offer up the collar and the cuffs, palms up, as you avert his gaze.

“Look at you,” he tuts. “Filthy...”  He removes the collar and cuffs off your hands and gazes at the black soot remaining from the dirty garage floor,

“But it suits you perfectly, doesn’t it?”, his voice was almost mocking you, ‘’A dirty slut.’’

Quite literally.

Namjoon sets aside your collar on the edge of the bed before crouching in front of you, a lopsided grin curling on his lips as he grabs your wrists as to inspect them,

‘’Even your pretty little hands are soiled, angel.’’ he tsked in disapproval, the mere sound of it making you feel smaller, eyes still fixed on the floor. After all, he hadn’t told you to look at him as of yet.

You don’t know why you thought he would ask you to wash your hands, but you quickly threw aside your anticipations  as it catches you off guard with what he does next.

‘’Palms up, angel. Show me your hands.’’

A confused second passed, but you obliged nonetheless, raising both of your hands, palms up to him as if you were begging for something.

The mere sight was absolutely gorgeous to Namjoon.

Without a word, Namjoon collects enough saliva in his mouth, grabbing your wrists to pull your hands closer, letting his spit drip from his tongue down to pool in your hands. Your eyes widen as they stare at the floor, arms twitching instinctively at the foreign sensation.

His grasp around your wrists tightens, ‘’Stay still… Be a good girl, yeah?’’

You nod, relaxing your arms. However the muscles in them feel tired from holding them out for him like this. He knows, he can tell, but says nothing about it. He loves to watch you struggle, adamant to please him.

Besides, you deserve it, don’t you?

Once more, Namjoon spits in your hands. This time, it has a degrading intention; a harsh spitting sound as it lands in your hand. He stands up again, the angle even more delicious from above as he watches you obediently hold his pooled saliva like it was the most precious gift from him.

‘’Go on...  Clean up.’’

You bite your lip as the slick saliva spreads in your hands.  Your body thrums with humiliation and desire, mixing to make your legs quiver where they kneel before him.  You clasp your hands together and rub your boyfriends spit in your hands, attempting to remove as much of the dirt as possible with what he’s given you. It’s messy—the spit is black from the soot.  His eyes take you in, the image of you cleansing yourself with him, accepting his spit like the dirty whore you are, that he loves. It makes his cock throb in his jeans. Nothing gets him off quicker than putting you in your place, seeing you accept his degradation with pink cheeks and frightened eyes.

He pulls his shirt off his body and throws it to you carelessly.

“Use it to dry your hands,” he orders.  

You comply, wiping the last off you with his shirt.

“Let me see.”  You hold your hands up for him to inspect and he smirks, ‘’Good little slut.’’

His hands open the collar wide and you jerk slightly as you feel the pressure of it on your neck.  Namjoon pulls it tight around you for a moment, cutting off your air supply, before he releases and secures the collar to sit high on your throat.  The ‘O’ ring sits at the center proudly, a place he often uses to leash and drag you around like his pretty, perfect pet.

He moves away from you and towards the armoire at the side of your bedroom.  Your heart gallops wildly. The armoire is full of his toys, punishment and reward alike.  The unknowing of what he’s getting out to use on you has your cunt dripping with desire and fright.

There’s silence as he gathers his tools, then returns and places them on the nightstand.

“Look at me.” His voice is firm, unwavering.  

You let your eyes flick up to his and your breath catches.  He looks incredible.  Shirtless, tight pants straining with the bulge of his cock, power exuding from his very pores.   Your eyes dance on his chest for just a moment, soaking in the refined lines, then settle at his eyes.  They’re darkened with lust, with intention.  He looks at you like you are his next, and final, meal.

“I want you to bend over the bed. You will spread your legs and push out your pretty little ass.  I’m going to cane you for what you’ve done today.”

Your eyes widen, and he relishes in the fright lingering. He hasn’t used the cane on you in a long time.  It’s the most intense tools of impact you own—the one you’re most frightened of.

“You know your safe word, don’t you?” He asks.

You nod.

He tsks. “I asked you a question. Don’t make me open up that mouth for you. You won’t like what I’ll do.”

A shiver runs through you as you weakly open your mouth. “Yes, sir. My safe word is orange.”

He nods. “Good girl. Let’s hope we won’t need it and you’ll take what you are given, hm?” Another nod from you. “Now, do as you’re told.”

You hop up quickly, knees painfully red and sore now, and move towards the bed. You arch down, sticking your ass out towards your boyfriend and spreading your legs shoulder-length apart.  He can see all of you, slick folds weeping with desire and anticipation, legs shaking in fear and arousal.

It’s intoxicating to Namjoon, the way you behave and listen. He loves the fright inside you, the way it soaks your cunt for him.  He knows the cane is on the verge of being too much, he knows you’ll be weeping both from eyes and pussy at the end of it.

The wood is heavy in his hands.  The cane is only a bit longer than a paddle, but it packs an even more intense blow.  

“Tell me what you did today. Why do you deserve my cane?” He asks, allowing the cane to tap at your cheeks lightly.  It makes you jerk and clutch at the blankets below you.

“I—I was dancing with Jimin, sir,” you murmur, voice tight with anxiety.

“Ah ah, you weren’t just dancing,” he corrects. “Don’t pretend to be innocent.  You know what you did.”

As you open your mouth to speak, he brings the cane down at the tops of your thighs.   It cracks heavily on the skin and makes your knees give out. The sting is like white, hot fire on your thighs. It burns, and makes your cunt clench around nothing.  Tears spring at your eyes as you try to answer him.

“I was grinding on him!” you cry as your legs return to standing to accept the next blow.

“You were being a little. fucking. slut.” he intones, then punctuates his words with another whip of the cane—right at the center of your ass. The sound of it hitting your flesh echoes in the bedroom you share, and it makes you cry out in pain.  Your knuckles were white from the grasp of the blankets—tears flooding you and spilling onto the duvet. “Say it!” He orders.

You whimper through your words. “I was being a slut, sir!”

‘’That’s right, you were being a filthy, horny cockslut.’’ He snarls, another whip echoing in the room as it falls harshly on your skin, ‘’Horny for Jimin’s cock with the way you were grinding on him, by the looks of it, isn’t that right?’’

He laughs mockingly, landing another whip on the same spot he previously caned, it would definitely bruise. But you didn’t care. And neither did he, he fucking loves your cries.

‘’Tell me, who’s cock are you really a whore for?!’’

He holds the cane high, anticipating your answer.

‘’Y-yours, daddy-- p-please!’’ You cry out, clawing at the sheets, legs quivering.

‘’That’s right, but apparently, you didn’t remember that today, angel.’’ He says with an awfully calm voice, cane still held high.

He ends his caning with one final blow, and it makes your vision black out with the intensity.  You’re sobbing now, weeping into the blankets as your legs shake.  

It’s the most intense pain you’ve ever felt, ever been dealt from your loving boyfriend.  It forces you to understand just how upset you made him, just how angry watching you attempt to seduce another man makes him.

“You’re my little cumslut, you hear that? Mine!”

His hands smooth over your reddened ass, harsh burgundy lines marking where he punished you thoroughly.  It makes you whimper through your cries, his warm hands simultaneously soothing and agitating the marks.

He only remains for a moment, ensuring the flare of pain is soothed.  As sadistic as he is, he remains sane enough to ensure your safety.   Your whimpers have slowed slightly, and he takes it as his opportunity to move on.

He reaches for the handcuffs and takes advantage of your prone position, bent over the bed.  He works them around your wrists, tightening them just enough to leave you helpless.  He pulls you up and presses his back against you, face at your ear.

“You took your first punishment well,” he encourages as he licks a stripe on your throat, right above the collar that symbolizes you as his.  “But I’m not finished with you,” he sighs. “Little cock whores like you are never satisfied with just one little punishment, aren’t you?”

You sniffle and nod. “No sir, I n-need more.”

He chuckles—it’s dark and ominous.

“Dirty fucking slut.”

He turns you to face him and he kisses you roughly, no sign of the sweet and sensitive boyfriend. It’s the Jekyll to his Hyde; the sadistic Dom now kissing you cares only of getting off and making you take it.  

His mouth is fiery—teeth biting at your lips and growling when he slips his tongue in your mouth.

“Gonna make you remember who the fuck you belong to, baby girl,” he warns as he pulls away.  He urges you down to your knees and you’re easily complying.

His hands are at his jeans, unbuttoning and unzipping and making your mouth salivate in anticipation.

He steps out of his jeans, and you’re rewarded with his thick cock springing free from the confines of his jeans. You should have expected your boyfriend to go without boxers, but it’s a pleasant surprise nonetheless.

“Look at you,” he notes. “So desperate for my cock.”  He grips it and teases it in front of you. You want to lean forward, capture it in your lips but you refrain and wait for the order.

“You think you deserve this? You think I should let you suck my dick after that little show you put on today?” He gives his length a stroke and it makes you nearly whine with need. “Little fucking bitch wants any cock she can get, why should I let you have mine?”

Your eyes shine with tears, still lingering from your caning and refreshing now with wet, hot desire for him.

“Beg.” He orders, holding his dick in front of your face tauntingly.

“P-please, daddy. Let me suck your cock,” you blubber. “Let me show you that you’re the only cock I need.”

He hums and strokes himself. Watching you nearly weep with want and beg to suck him off has his head reeling. The power rushes through his veins like a drug.

“I think you can do better than that,” he sighs. “Why shouldn’t I just jerk myself off and cum on that pretty face of yours?”

Tears freely spill down your face now. “I want you to use me, I want to let you fuck my throat raw, please, sir!” You sound completely gone and Namjoon feels his impossibly hard cock flex at your needy tone. “Please fuck my throat like the cock whore I am!”

“That’s fucking right,” he grunts. “Open that fucking mouth for me.”  Your mouth opens and he’s leaning down to spit harshly at your waiting tongue. It makes you jerk, but you reserve yourself and accept it. “Filthy little bitch.”

He moves forward and sets his cock on your tongue and almost groans at the feel of your hot mouth, swirling with his spit now.

“Make me cum with your mouth, you don’t get to use those hands today.”

He wastes no time on shoving his length into you and down your throat. He gives a few precursory thrusts and sighs as he feels your throat gagging around him and hears your desperate, wet sounds. Tears flow freely—your mascara is smearing down your face as you look up at him, mouth stuffed full.  It’s the prettiest sight he thinks he’s ever seen. You’re desperate, absolutely fucked out for him. Saliva dribbles down your mouth and he fucking loves it when you become a mess on his cock.

“Pathetic.’’ He murmurs. But truly, he thinks it was beautiful—the way you desperately take his cock down your throat, the needy look in your teary eyes and the muffled whines vibrating in your throat at his fake disapproval. It makes you work harder, eager to make him feel good.

You bob your head, keeping your eyes locked on Namjoon—he loves it when you’re giving him your undivided attention.  It’s sloppy, and you’re loud. Namjoon fucking lives for when all your inhibitions are gone and you’re wanton and horny like a porn star desperate for work.

“Fuck, such a good throat,” he drags a finger up it as he forces his cock to the back of your mouth. He can feel the ridge of his cock through your neck and he nearly cums from that alone.  “Taking it so fucking good.”  He grips your head and desperately fucks into your mouth.  You squeeze your eyes shut and will your gag reflex away, let him use you as he sees fit. You egg him in with licks of your tongue as he thrusts in and out, and by the filthy noises you make with each press.

Saliva is dropping out of your lips, and his it covers his cock. Namjoon feels his balls tighten impossibly and knows he’s close.

“Does my cockslut want daddy’s cum? You want me to coat that little throat with it?” He keeps his pace and you nod through your tears.  He grunts his approval and picks up the pace, only to explode through his orgasm soon after. His cock pulses as he emptied himself into your mouth and throat, and you suck harder as if thirsty for it.

He pulls it out a moment later with a sated sigh. “My little cum dump,” he smirks as he runs a finger over your lips.  “Swallow it all.”  You nod and visibly swallow his load, then hold your tongue out to prove it.

“Shit—so good. You’re such a whore you could drink my cum all day, couldn’t you?”

“Yes, daddy,” you whisper. Your throat is rough and sore from his thrusts but you can’t find it in you to care, not even a little bit.

You remain on your knees and he puts a finger under your chin and lifts it higher. “Doing so good, angel. Making me proud.”

It makes your heart nearly implode.  Namjoon is sadistic and thrills in your anguish, but loves you all the same.  He knows you’re not just able to take it, but you’re desperate to take it. You trust him to never hurt you in a way you couldn’t handle.

“Still have more for you, little one. I don’t think you quite understand who this body belongs to.”

Your eyes shine with excitement and Namjoon can’t help but to smile at it. He uncuffs you and you look perplexed. He never lets you out early.

“Up on the bed, on your back,” he states as he ignores your questioning look. You know better than to deny his order, so you rub at your wrists as you move towards the bed.  Your knees are still throbbing from the pressure and you heave a pleased sigh as you melt into the mattress.

“I wouldn’t feel too comfortable,” he chuckles. “It won’t last long.”  

In Namjoon’s hands is red shibari rope. It makes your stomach flip. It’s been so long since he’s trussed you up and it thrills you to see the familiar smooth bindings.

“Thighs to your chest,” he orders. “Spread them wide, show me this needy little cunt.”  

You do as he says, pulling your thighs up to meet your chest and spreading them open. He stares at your core, it’s dripping now. It drips down you and stains the comforter.  Namjoon tuts. If you’re this wet already, he knows he will need to change the sheets after he’s done with you.

“Look at you,” he intones. “A dumb little slut, open and ready for any cock she can get.”  He drags a finger up and down your thigh.

Namjoon gets to work. He loves the way he loses himself in the art of tying you up. He loves watching your chest rise and fall and the little squeaks that come out of your mouth as he knots you up.  He loops the rope around the left thigh, then draws in your left calf to tie it in.  You’ll be spread open, unable to stretch your legs out until he gives you permission.  

He glances up at you every so often as he continues, checking to make sure he’s not cutting off any vital circulation. As cruel as he is, he doesn’t intend to actually maim you.  You never show a sign of pain, just the glazed look you hold as your body gives in to your subservient intuition.  It makes Joon smile and his heart clench in his chest.  He really fucking loves you.

You’re soon tied up completely from the waist down, both legs tied together and spread open with pussy on display. Your hands are free and just as you’re about to relish in it, Namjoon is looping more rope to tie each wrist to a bedpost. He grins as you gasp. You’re completely tied up and at his will, and you’re embarrassed at how open you are in front of him, how dripping wet you get from being tied up and useless.

Namjoon is moving around and you suddenly hear a vibration and it gets closer as he approaches you.

“Gonna make you cum for me, babygirl...  Gonna play with you until you fucking squirt everywhere.”

Your legs clench together as you notice he is holding a Hitachi wand in his hand.  You know the power it wields.  It brings you to your finish nearly instantaneously.  Which means Namjoon has decided your next punishment will be denying you any orgasm and continually bringing you to the edge… or making you cum so much your cunt hurts.   You don’t know which is worse.

He notices the look on your face and grins.  “Yeah, you know what this is, don’t you?”

Namjoon places the bulbous head of the wand on your cunt and you cry out instantly.  He drags it up and down your drenched slit and you’re already feeling so close to the edge.

“You better fucking scream, don’t hold back,” he orders. “Remind this whole fucking neighborhood who gets you off. Make sure Park fucking Jimin hears it.”

He stops rubbing it up and down and lets it sit right on your clit and watches your face contort as your tied legs struggle against the wrappings.  It’s too much, it feels like you’ve been lit up.  Namjoon gloats in your struggle.   He sees your cunt dripping with increasing fervor, can tell you’re squeezing those walls around nothing.  He can’t wait to bury himself inside you once and for all and coat your walls with his cum.

“You know you better fucking ask permission to cum,” he reminds you.  “You better not cum unless I tell you.”

Your tear-streaked face is twisted in pleasure, in pain.  You feel yourself unwinding, increasing towards your finish like a bullet.  

“D-Daddy! Please! I need to cum! Please!” You’re begging harder than you’ve begged in your life, you’re certain.  It feels like the string inside you will snap any second now and you’re holding off the orgasm as hard as you can.  Without the use of your legs, you find yourself unable to slow the inevitable.

“No,” he states firmly.  “Fucking take it. You can keep going.”  He growls his words and watches as your cunt is helpless.  “Little whores like you can fucking take it.”

It’s useless, you’re falling apart at the seams.  You’re pleading with him to let you cum, legs now completely convulsing in their restraints.  It snaps, the coil inside bursts and you’re careening towards the end.  You whine and cry helplessly as your pussy pulsates around nothing and oozes out your arousal.  Your face burns in shame as you come down-—you know exactly what you’ve done wrong.

“S-sorry! I’m so sorry, Daddy!” Tears fall harder and you’re gasping for his forgiveness, for his mercy.  “I’m so sorry!”

‘‘Tsk, tsk.’’ Namjoon tuts.  “My little slut couldn’t even follow her one and only instruction.’’  He removes the wand for just a moment.  “You better fucking listen this time.”

Your body feels overstimulated.  The pleasure is bordering on painful and you yelp as Namjoon places it back on your overworked clit.  

“You can make up for it if you squirt for me,”  he grits.  “Maybe I’ll stick my fingers in this tight cunt.  Always so desperate for Daddy’s help, aren’t you?”

You whine at the thought of him filling you, but it’s overtaken by the feeling of the wand back on you.  It’s painful, but it feels so good.  Your body is held back by one single tripwire, ready to snap at any moment.  Namjoon knew that restraining your arms and legs left you completely helpless to slow your own orgasms.  He wanted you to fail, wanted to punish you for cumming when he knew damn well you wouldn’t last a fucking second under the wand’s vibrations.

“P--please!” your whines are breathy.  You feel as if you’ve just run a marathon and you’re desperate for air.  Your entire body is singing with rapture, with pain.  You feel a deep desperation to feel him inside you.  “I need you! Need your fingers!”

Namjoon groans at the sound of your whines.  It’s his favorite, when you’ve finally snapped past a breaking point and he pushes you beyond.  The way you’re desperate, begging and crying for him is pathetic. He fucking loves it.

“Fuck, listen to yourself,” he comments.  His cock is raging again, hard and ready to bury itself inside you.  But he waits.  He’s nothing but patient for you.  “You sound like a little fucking whore.  Are you Jimin’s whore?”

You blubber a cry and shake your head, feeling the oncoming orgasm approaching again.  It feels even more intense.  

“No! I’m yours! O-only yours, Daddy!”  The simple crying is turning into sobs and you both can tell you’re nearly on the edge.

“That’s fucking right,” he snarls.  “This pussy belongs to me.  Not fucking Jimin. Not even you. I own you.” His words run cold through your body, it feels as if your veins have iced over.  You’re absolutely under his spell and control, and you’ve never loved anyone more.

“Cum for me, filthy slut.  Let me see you get Daddy nice and messy.”  He shoves two fingers inside you, and curls them to reach the spot that has you reeling. He knows he’s made it when you’re arching on the bed and screaming through your sobs.  

“G-gonna cum, oh god--” you’re gasping for air, greedy for it.  “There, f-fuck!”

The orgasm that hits you is stronger than any before.  It feels like your cunt turns into a vice and you’re squeezing around his fingers so hard it makes Namjoon hiss.  Your body spasmed and trembled as you came, and finally Namjoon is rewarded when your cunt gushes all over his fingers, dripping down his hand.

“Holy shit,” he gapes as you finally return to earth from your skyhigh completion.  “Dirty fucking slut.  You did so good.”

Namjoon’s cock is pulsating.  He’s sure if he doesn’t get inside you, now, he’ll shatter.

“Nasty whore is going to get one more.  You’re gonna cum on Daddy’s cock, aren’t you?”  

You’re nodding weakly.  You’re far gone, mind so dizzyingly high and body exhausted.  “P-please, need you.”

He takes no care to line himself up or take time.  He’s pressing against your hole in one moment and is buried to the hilt the next.  You’re so wet it feels like he’s drowning and he throws his head back in bliss.  Even after two explosive orgasms you’re tight around him, molding around each ridge of his cock.

“Oh, god--” he groans.  “Sweetest pussy I’ve ever been in.” The praise doesn’t last long, so you soak it in while it lasts, ‘’Gonna pump you full of my cum, angel-- f-fuck..’’  You’re crying and whining as he pumps into you.  It feels so good.

‘’Gonna have you nice and swollen with my child, so everybody knows just who the fuck this little whore belongs to.’’  His thrusts are so powerful that it’s almost as if he’s trying to fuse with you, he’s no longer holding back any reservations.  His hips bump against you as he stuffs you full, chasing his end.  He drops a hand to your clit, knowing it’s battered from the wand but can’t find it in him to care anyway.  He wants you to orgasm again, and he’s going to get it. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?  To be so plump and pregnant that everyone will know what a depraved, little bitch in heat you are for me.”

Impossibly, you feel your belly tighten and tug and you’re edging closer and closer to yet another orgasm that Namjoon will wrench out of you. You’re crying out, only able to whine and sob his name.  He’s fucked the ability to talk right out of you, and you can only think about Namjoon and his fat cock drilling into you and filling you up as if his life depended on it.  

Namjoon loves it when you’re fucked out completely. He can tell he’s close, and nearing closer as he watches your sobbing face, smeared with mascara, cry and gasp for his cum.  He could cum from watching you beg alone, and now as he pounds into your juicy cunt he’s surrounded in pleasure.

“I’m going to cum--fuck. Gonna fucking fill you,” he hisses as he thrusts so hard it’s nearly bruising.  His grip on your hips tighten, blunt nails digging into your skin as he lets out a loud and guttural moan as his cock desperately throbs inside of you.  He keeps his power, but the pace dies down with each thrust.  He fucks his cum deep inside you, and rubs at your clit punishingly.  His warm seed jammed inside you snaps everything and you’re crying pathetically as you reach your high, walls contracting and milking him.  Your vision is black and you only hear the rush of your blood in your ears.

It takes a few stuttering breaths to finally come to, and your vision returns to normal.  Namjoon remains buried inside you and he’s panting just as hard as you.  You’re both dripping in sweat and covered in your combined juices.  He cups a hand on the side of your face and smiles at you as you both attempt to return to normal.

“That was good, wasn’t it?” He asks with a chuckle.  He slowly pulls out of you and you’re wincing at the loss.  You’re sure you won’t be able to walk, let alone even stand.

You nod gingerly. “Really fucking good.” you whisper. Everything is sore, and it’s a feeling you can’t compare to anything.  It’s a burning ache that reminds you of Namjoon, of your love, of the trust you willingly hand over to him and the bliss he gives in return.  

“Let’s run a bath,” he states as he leans down to kiss you, pressing his lips on yours in a sweet kiss.  The Namjoon you love is back, the sweet and compassionate lover who cares about every single aspect of you.

“I would love that,” you sigh.  “But, could we maybe untie my legs before I lose any more circulation?”

The both of you erupt into laughter as his hands work over the intricate knots.  He winks.

“Needy little whore.”

© ppersonna - 2020 - do not repost on any site, or translate without express permission from author.

[liliesoftherain]

My Hero Academia Main 3 Boys x Reader

Ch. 19 Endeavors Agency

A/N: Sorry for the long wait, but here's the next part of the series! I just realized I hit over 2000 followers, and I honestly don't deserve it at all. Thank you guys for your compassion and understanding, and I hope to generate more content you like. I might be willing to do an event, and turn my requests back for a short amount of time, but we'll see.

Masterlist

“Are you all ready for tomorrow? I still don’t know how I feel about you staying at Endeavor’s agency for the week.”

You hold in a sigh, choosing to smile instead--even if he couldn’t see you.

“Yeah dad, I’m all ready to go,” you knew of your dad’s--distaste--for the number two, even if he wouldn’t say it, “and I hope I’ll be able to learn a lot from this--although I know you’re probably the better teacher.”

He hums at your praise, you can hear his amusement over the phone.

“I’ll always have room for you at the office, just say the word.”

“I’m sure you’ll have your hands full with Bakugou, dad.”

“I hope to reform that boy, by the looks of him, he has pride sewn into the very fiber of his being.”

“Sounds about right-”

“Plus, he was getting a bit too cozy with my daughter, I have half the mind to question him about it.”

“Dad!” You elongate the word, turning it into a groan at the end as he just chuckles at your misery. 

Moving on from the topic, you change the conversation to something lighter--mundane things about school and work before having to hang up the phone. He was unable to come home tonight, meaning you wouldn’t be seeing him until you got back. Unfortunately, you were used to calls instead of in-person goodnights--even if it was a bit lonely sometimes, you pushed on. 

 After ending the call, you get ready for bed--thoughts of the week ahead making it difficult to fall asleep.

-----

“Everyone has their costumes, right? You can’t wear them out in public unless you’re given permission--and don’t lose them either, understood?”

“Yep, loud and clear!”

“Speak properly Ashido, it’s yes sir. You all need to mind your manners.”

“Yes sir..”

You grin at Mina’s dejected face, only patting her back in comfort once you were dismissed. You wave goodbye to her as she heads to her station, looking back in search of your internship buddy. 

After spotting him, you make your way over to his side to see his attention on Iida as he marches off.

“Todoroki?”

He turned to look at you, blinking owlishly as he snapped out of whatever thoughts he had been consumed by.

“Hakamata, hello.”

In some ways, you were looking forward to the internship. Ever since the sports festival, you’ve been able to regard Todoroki in a brand new light. He wasn’t as stuck up as you first took him for, if anything his reactions only made it seem that way. 

The boy was just--awkward. 

“Shall we get going then?”

He nodded in agreement, and you both leisurely walked towards your train. Sitting side-by-side after baording, suitcases in your laps respectively. The trip there was pretty quiet, and you were glad to say it wasn’t an awkward one. It was different, being so used to rambles from people like Mina and Izuku, or even loud and rowdy conversations with Eijiro or Bakugou. Yet with Todoroki, words weren’t needed to fill the air, it was comforting all on its own. 

It didn’t take long to reach Tokyo, arriving at the station quicker than you thought. You both get off, having to walk the rest of the way to the large building. It was bigger than your father’s, and you felt slightly intimidated. Todoroki looked over as your steps faulted, tilting his head in silent communication. You give a tight smile, ushering your nerves down as you make your way inside. 

“Hello!” The woman at the front desk beamed, “Endeavor has been waiting for you two, why don’t you go and head up to his office!” 

She gave you the quick directions, waving you off as you stepped into the elevator. Todoroki had seemed tense now that he was actually about to see his dad, and you couldn’t blame him. Your last interaction with the man wasn’t the best, if anything you were downright rude.

All within reason, of course. 

You arrive on the floor that his office was located on, stepping out of the elevator and having to walk through a room filled to the brim with sidekicks to get to the room. After receiving the okay to enter, you step inside to realize the entire part of the building was his office. The room was huge; marble walls with high ceilings, a crystal chandelier hung above a seating area and all the way towards the far wall, at a large oak desk, was the man who you’d have to put up with for the next week. 

You heard a bitter sigh come from your companion, and you give a quick glance of reassurance in his direction. He does the same before you two make your way into the room. If you thought it was intimidating before, the scarce lighting made it even more so--the room relatively dim, save for the rays of the setting sun peeking in through the wall of windows on the right hand side.

“Shoto, I’ve been waiting for you.” A deep voice speaks up as you both stop to stand in front of his desk.

Endeavor is standing as well, smirking down at the both of you before focusing his attention on his son. 

“I’m glad you made this decision. You’re finally ready to walk down the path of the mighty.”

“I have no intention of following any path you’ve created. Only I can decide my future.”

The surge of pride you feel as Todoroki stands up for himself falters as a chuckle falls from Endeavor.

“Is that so?” He glances between the both of you, “you both should go get ready then, we’re going out.”

“Where to?” Todoroki answers, looking surprised. 

“I’m going to show you both what it means to be a hero.”

-----

The sun has long been set as the three of you patrol the streets of Tokyo, whispers following as you did. It was very different, the energy a complete contrast from what you’ve seen with your dad and his patrols. People called out to him all the time, big grins on their faces’ as they waved enthusiastically. However, the people around here looked intimidated by the large pro hero. In awe yes, but nervous to approach him at the same time. You couldn’t blame them, Endeavors aura was very nerve-wracking.

However, despite the feeling he gave off, things were calm. The peace surrounded everyone and everything around--laughter and smiles was seen all around. It was great; this is how life should be, no one should be fearful. 

“Rescue, evacuation, and suppression. There are the three fundamentals required of all heroes. Most agencies are established on a foundation of either “rescue” or “suppression”. However, my agency does not. Remember that. We are grounded in all three of these fundamentals, combined.”

You and Todoroki nod, listening to Endeavor’s speech as he stomps on. 

“You have to remain focused--memorize every single detail of your jurisdiction. Don’t let a single irregularity slip by. Be on-site faster than anyone else. Minimize all casualties by keeping all citizens far away as possible.”

He didn’t look back once--his focus never wavering, remaining on the crowds around him. 

“These are the basics of the basics, do you understand?”

“Yes sir.” You answer.

“Yeah.” Todoroki spoke, as enthusiastic as ever.

“Then keep up.”

In the blink of an eye, Endeavor was gone. You blinked owlishly, sharing a look with Todoroki before you both rushed off after the number two. It was hard to keep up, the hero using his flames to accelerate his speed. 

Todoroki was using his ice to help him, almost in the same way, while you used the move you picked up in the sports festival--allowing your light to harden under your feet, to extend and give you a boost. While you would be faster if you allowed your body to transform into light particles, you weren’t very efficient with it, you’d need some more training before you could try to use it in your day-to-day activities. 

You finally heard the wailing of police sirens and the screeching of tires. 

You were shocked Endeavor had noticed so far away, but you suppose that’s what it means to be the number two hero. 

In a less populated area, down a mostly deserted road, there was a large truck being tailed by three different police vehicles, with no sign of stopping. The getaway truck was being reckless, swerving all over without a care of what--or who--it ran over. 

Trying to boost your speed to get there quicker, you were left to stop short as the truck suddenly came to a screeching stop. Endeavor had stopped the truck with his own body, acting as an obstacle halting it from moving any further. You watched in awe as the criminals inside were apprehended accordingly, Endeavor having full control of the situation. While you weren’t able to do anything but watch--since you were only interns and didn’t have hero licenses to be able to use your quirks like that in public--you still took in every detail you could, exactly like Endeavor had told you to. 

The way there were no casualties, or any injuries of the citizens for that matter, and even though there was damage to the area around him, it was insignificant to what could have been if they continued on for even just another few minutes. In the short amount of time it took for Endeavor to race over and stop the villains, so much had already been done.

‘A real pros power…’

“Let’s go. We aren’t done.”

-----

You awake bright and early the next day, feeling exhausted from how long you stayed out last night. The three of you ended patrolling for the next few hours without any other exciting things to happen. Endeavor tended to mainly ignore you, but he did ask about what your goal was overall--if anything you were shocked that he was speaking to you civilly.

You explained how you wanted to get the experience you needed to be a great hero, and do it on your own accord. How you wanted to use your quirk to the best of your ability and save lives. You weren’t here to play around, you wanted to do something good--you wanted to be useful. He gave you a simple speech of encouragement--if you could call it that--before dropping the subject as he ranted to Todoroki about all the great things he could learn from him. 

 It was a night to remember, and you did learn something pretty valuable, so you’d have to give him that.

You walk out into the main area--the one you had to walk through yesterday to get to Endeavor’s office--with your hero uniform already on, ready to see what was on the agenda for the day. The room was large, holding plenty of office desks and important equipment, as if Endeavor had his own intelligence force right in the middle of his agency. Seeing as how many cases the number two hero took on--as well as how many cases his plentiful amount of sidekicks took on--it wasn’t a surprise.

Glancing around, you couldn’t find Todoroki, instead coming face-to-face with one of the many sidekicks held in the agency.

“Hey there kiddo, welcome to the Endeavor Hero Agency!” The woman laughs boisterously.

Her copper-green hair flickered around her head, a cocky smirk on her lips, and a wicked gleam in her amber eyes all made you alert. She wasn’t a threat, but her attitude was the exact opposite of Endeavor’s.

Just a bit weird.

“Ah, yes, thank you.” You bow, only to be thrown off guard as she pats--more like slaps--your back repeatedly.

“Oh come on, don’t be so formal! I’m going to end up putting you to work right away, even if you’re going to have to fight for the right to work alongside us!” She cackles loudly, and you sweat drop as she reminds you of a certain pinkett back at school.

“Luminary.”

You push off Burnin and look towards Todoroki as he walks up beside you, also just as ready as you were to start the day.

“Shoto, good morning.”

It felt a little embarrassing at first, to be calling Todoroki by his first name, but you remembered it’s what he had chosen as his hero name. The entirety of the night before, only code names were used, so now it was second nature. 

“Shoto-kun! I’d say the same for you, but you’ll probably be stuck with Endevor while miss Luminary here will have to kick it with us,” Burnin tries to slap you on the back again but you quickly dodge, causing her to grin to widen, “since, yanno, Endeavor really only cares about you!”

Todorki scoffs at the notion, even if it was true. He was eyeing Burnin as she continued to try and pester you. It’s odd, seeing you in a different setting outside of school. He noticed how quiet you’ve been, and while that wasn’t a bad thing, you were always pretty upbeat and talkative in school. 

You kept up with Bakugou’s rambunctious actions, Midroiya’s rambles, Ashido’s exuberant personality, and even Kirishima’s upbeat attitude. However, ever since you both stepped onto the train to come to the agency, you’ve kept to yourself for the most part. You soaked up all the information you could, even if you were being a little wary of Endeavor. 

Todoroki had indeed noticed, and he would be too in your position, shoot, he already was wary of his old man and all the ideas he had running around in his head. However, right now in this moment Todoroki saw the flicker of fire sparking again as you tried to keep the older sidekick from putting you into a headlock. It was good to see you as yourself, you always did know how to light up a room.

“Shoto.” The smile playing on the boy's lips fell as he heard his father.

You quickly detach yourself from Burnin’s hold, straightening up as Endevors approached. His hard gaze barely looked in your direction, focused on his son as always.

“Shoto,” he repeats, “We’ll be having an important mission today.”

Endoavor finally looks at you, the frown on his face stays in place--but it doesn’t get any deeper either. 

“As for you Luminary, you shall be shadowing Burnin for the time being.”

“Yes sir!” Burning salutes the pro before shrugging an arm around your shoulder. 

Todoroki glances at you from the corner of his eyes, and he sees how your shoulders fall ever-so-slightly. It was practically unnoticable, but he saw it. You were disappointed, the only reason Todoroki convinced you to come was because he knew that working with the man who had the speed and instincts of a number two pro hero was a great opportunity--even if his old man was a scumbag. He had to acknowledge his talents. 

“I want Hakamata to come.”

The silence between the two was stifling, the heated glares acting as a silent conversation. You eyed Todoroki bewildered, confused as to why he was questioning Endeavor's decision. Sure, you were annoyed and somewhat disappointed, but you expected this. You were prepared to be treated as second best. 

After all, people like them were always good at making people like you feel inferior. 

“What?”

“I want Hakamata to be able to attend this mission with us.”

Endeavors eyes shut briefly, before doing the unexpected.

“If that’s what you want. Be ready, the both of you, we’re leaving soon,” he turns to the rest of the members in the room, “We’re taking a work trip to Hosu.”

“Yes sir!”

As Endeavor turns to leave, you smile brightly at Todoroki.

“Thanks Shoto.” 

“Uh, yeah, sure.” His head faces the floor, he couldn’t bring himself to look you in the eyes.  

“Let’s hurry then, we have a city to get to!”

“Right.”

-----

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[shesclearlya3]

Class Fight (p.1)

pairing: teen!dandy mott x teen!reader

word count: 3,303

warnings: language, jealous dandy, slightly au!dandy, all characters are 18

part 2 part 3

1.

It was the first semester of your Senior year. The first month of school had flown by, and the Fall dance was just a few weeks away. Your small group of girlfriends was anxiously awaiting for their crushes to ask them.

You weren’t particularly concerned with this. The dance fell on the one Saturday of the month where you had to accompany your mother to some stupid Tupperware party. It was the newest trend in American dining, and your mother needed you as her plus one. It wouldn’t hurt to miss one dance… right?

Your best friends Winter and Zoe were excited, but they were devastated you couldn’t come. You always went with them as a trio.

“Are you sure you couldn’t cancel?” Winter asked while you washed your hands in the bathroom sink. The school day was over, and you planned on accompanying her to the diner for greasy food and to catch up on homework.

“I already promised her weeks ago,” you said, drying your hands. “There’s still prom?”

Winter nodded in understanding, and you both knew it was the end of that discussion. Zoe came out of the stall, her face flushed and hair tied back. She looked clammy.

“You alright in there?” Winter asked her as Zoe took a disposable cup and drank some water.

“Kyle asked me to the dance!” Zoe replied breathlessly. You and Winter both congratulated her, and Winter asked why she looked so sick.

“I just got overwhelmed, you know? He came up and asked me right as I put my books away. I didn’t think he was going too, he never brought it up before-.”

You followed them out as Zoe recanted the story of how Kyle asked her. The halls were mostly cleared now as kids scrambled to leave as soon as possible.

“You’re riding with us, right?” Zoe then asked you, raising a neat eyebrow at you.

“Yes, Dandy probably left already.”

The girls both smirked to themselves, but you ignored it. You were used to it by now.

The thing was, Dandy Mott was the best looking guy in school, in your opinion. You had never attended a public school in your life, but you knew those boys could never compare. Dandy was from the wealthiest family in your private district, and with his looks, girls were all over him.

However, he was quite the character. 

Dandy didn’t necessarily associate with a particular group of kids. He was reticent and didn’t bother with any clubs, but he was quite attuned to the drama program. He was also known for his temper if things didn’t go his way, but age matured him, mostly. You were one of the few people who he actually gave a damn about in life. You attributed that to knowing him before school. Your grandfather was a business partner with the Mott family, where your family name found their wealth, and how you two were friends.

You weren’t bothered by the unwanted attention you got from girls attempting to weasel their way into your circle for the chance to talk to Dandy. Most of them gave up quickly, and that was that. Plus, you had Winter and Zoe as your protectors. They weren’t afraid to kick a bitch in the vagina if they overstepped the clear boundaries you had set for yourself. Dandy trusted you, and you weren’t about to fuck that up.

Plus, his mother, Gloria, was continually trying to set him up with girls in other parts of town. 

You climbed into Zoe’s new car, buckling your seatbelt and glancing across the almost deserted parking lot. You spotted him instantly, sitting in his car and staring right back. You slowly raised your hand, giving him a wave. Dandy slowly reciprocated the action, and you swore you saw him smile.

You spent the evening with the girls, eating dinner and trying to explain the symbolism in the required reading in English. The football team had finished their practice and were crowding what few booths and tables were left. You tried to block out their raucous laughter, loudly asking Zoe to read your theory to see if it were plausible. 

Winter had noticed the Quarterback, Jason, occasionally staring at you as he chewed his burger. Your back was to him, so you had no idea. She didn’t say anything, instead watching him from the corner of her eye, figuring he wouldn’t approach your table. 

“I just think it only makes sense to me,” you told Zoe, scratching your head. “I can’t concentrate with the boys screaming for no reason.”

“I think it makes perfect sense. You did misspell authority, though…”

You laughed to yourself, glancing around the diner as Zoe fixed your spelling. You were so distracted, you misspelled simple words. 

“We should get ready and go, it’s getting stuffy in here…” Winter commented, closing her English book. 

“Just a moment!” Zoe said excitedly, scribbling down in her own notebook now.

You had started gathering your things when both Zoe and Madison looked behind you, looking a mix of concern and amusement. You glanced behind you to see Jason Dean, smiling down at you. His dark hair covered his eyes, and he pushed it back.

You had no idea what to say. The last conversation you had with Jason was probably in fifth grade when he commented that women were weak while helping you carry boxes of school supplies, and you accidentally dropped a massive box of markers on his foot. He cried for an hour. 

“y/n,” he addressed you. You glanced at your friends who were eagerly watching you with their faces hidden behind their textbooks. Winter’s was upside down.

“Hi, Jason,” you responded, hearing the confusion in your voice. You listened to his friends giggling behind you, and you wondered if this was a joke. 

“I haven’t seen you in a minute,” he said cheekily, and you nodded. “You look good.”

You quickly looked him up and down. Jason was muscular but not bulky, and he was definitely a whole foot taller than you. He grew into his facial features, and he was a handsome guy. You assumed he was just talking to you on a dare, so you finished putting your things in your bag. Zoe and Winter didn’t budge, still pretending to read their books.

Jason realized you were dumbfounded at his statement. He quickly backtracked, “I just wanted to say hi. I’ll see you around.”

You bid him farewell, turning to your friends who were having a hard time concealing their laughter. You heard Jason’s best friend, Matthew, call him an idiot and what sounded like a smack on the back.

“y/n, you have a boyfriend?” Zoe asked, smirking at you.

You glared, standing up as they shouldered their bags and grabbed their books. “You know perfectly well I don’t speak to him.”

“I bet he wants to ask you to the dance.” Winter grinned at Zoe, who nodded in agreement as you stepped into the cold autumn air. 

“I’m not going either way.” you mumbled, and the girls dropped it until the next morning. 

2.

You didn’t think it was that big of a deal that the Quarterback tried to talk to you at the diner a few nights before. All the students who were present spread gossip like wildfire. You ignored it. You knew they were just children speculating what it could mean when it probably meant nothing. 

Zoe and Winter never brought it up again, and you were relieved that your friends didn’t dwell on it for too long. You loved that about them. 

It was after lunchtime when you sat in your History course, going over the notes for the test. You heard Jason and a few of his friends pile in, laughing and making comments under their breath. They took their designated seats in the back, and you felt eyes on the back of your head. 

A group of popular girls across the room started to giggle, and you glanced up to see Dandy walk in, his nose up and sauntering to the seat directly behind you. You wondered why he didn’t acknowledge you, but you didn’t dwell on it long. Dandy was often absent from any social interaction. 

Your teacher began the class the moment the bell rang. She decided to go over the notes an extra day and postponed the test. You were mildly disappointed but knew the material well, so you decided to doodle in your journal. One of the girls in the front occasionally popped her gum. 

Ms. Strode was talking about World War II when you felt something hit your elbow. You glanced over and saw a balled-up piece of paper. You glanced around to see most people were either frantically jotting down notes or not paying any attention. You picked it up, assuming it just needed to be passed ahead.

However, you read your name in neat cursive and opened it under the table.

Would you go to the dance with me? - Jason

You read the short invitation a good ten or so times before you could comprehend what he was asking. While the teacher wasn’t looking, you peeked over your shoulder to see him staring at you. His buddies were hiding their own smiles, but you didn’t see any malice behind it. Was he serious?

Of course, you’d have to decline. You already have an engagement. You promised your mother. You already declined the evening with your two best friends.

You didn’t send a note back, knowing it would be too distracting trying to pass it. Dandy would never try to give a stupid message.

However, Dandy had been paying attention and had managed to read the note over your shoulder when you laid it on your pencil case. He became green with envy, closing the book he hadn’t been paying attention too in the first place.

You hardly spoke a word to him this year. He wondered why that was. Dandy was very particular who he said too, and gave any sliver of his precious time. You were a comfort to him and probably didn’t realize that. Dandy knew he couldn’t seem desperate for your affection, or at the very least, your attention. He had hoped you’d be waiting for him in his car after school like the previous years before. Did he do something to upset you? Were you too good for him?

Dandy spent the rest of the class staring at the back of your head. He knew that wasn’t the case. Perhaps it was his behavior that steered you away. Of course, he liked being friends with you, but maybe it wasn’t enough. He was a loner who enjoyed his alone time. Dandy heard what people said about him. The general consensus was that he was doing everything right. 

When the class was dismissed, he hung back, watching as you quickly gathered your things and paced out the door. 

“Tough blow, man!” he heard Matthew say.

“She’ll come around.” Jason replied, his tone snarky. Dandy watched as they walked out of the room, his brows furrowing as he debated on taking the high road and asking you to the stupid dance himself. He wouldn’t go willingly. His mother, Gloria, needed him to be involved as much as possible. To keep up appearances, of course. Not for Dandy’s own goodwill. 

Dandy trailed out of the class, seeing you across the hall at your locker. Winter was beside you, somehow talking and applying lipstick at the same time. He stood off to the side, not minding all the bodies bumping into him and temporarily panicking that he’d yell at them.

This is it, Dandy thought. It’s a war, whether Jason Dean knew that or not. 

3.

Jason approached you the following day and asked if you’d mind talking to him at lunch. You hesitantly agreed, catching Zoe’s eye as she hugged Kyle before going into her class. She smiled at you, and you gave her a hesitant one in return. 

He definitely matured through the years. Jason was interested in you, and you felt comfortable talking to him through the entire lunch period, even catching yourself laughing at his sense of humor. Dandy played with the apple in his hands, glaring daggers at the back of Jason’s messy head. Winter noticed from her spot at your usual table and nudged Zoe, gesturing for her to look. 

“He looks pissed.” Zoe giggled, and Winter nodded in agreement. 

“I think Mott is going to kill him!” Winter said, stabbing at her steamed broccoli.

“Shouldn’t we let y/n know?” Zoe asked.

“I think she’s about to figure it out.” Winter said as Dandy stood up, heading directly to the table where you were sitting with Jason. Zoe and Winter fell into a hush, shoving food into their mouth and intently watching what was about to unfold. 

Jason saw him approaching first and paused, sizing the other guy up and down. Jason was bigger than Dandy in height and muscle tone from being an athlete, but Dandy wasn’t lanky either. You turned around, shocked to find Dandy staring down at you. 

“y/n,” Dandy nodded at you, ignoring Jason.

“Dandy, hi!” you said, genuinely happy to see him. “How are you?”

“I’m decent.” he said, smiling a little. “Could I have a word?” 

You glanced at Jason, who seemed timid, but he nodded. You stood up, promising Jason you’d be back as you followed Dandy out to the hallway. Multiple eyes followed you, and you heard the whispers starting as the door swung shut. 

“How are you?” Dandy asked now, looking down at you. His dark hair was neatly gelled and had a slight curl. 

“I’ve been good. I haven’t heard from you in a while…” you said.

Dandy nodded, “I could say the same. I assumed you’d come back around soon enough.”

You felt he was hurt by your absence. Dandy looked bothered, and you felt terrible. However, he was capable of approaching you as well. Which is what he thought he had to do. 

“Is everything okay?” you questioned, hoping his mother was doing well. You hadn’t seen her all Summer. 

“y/n, you know you’re one of the only people I care about in this stupid town,” Dandy said, glancing towards a teacher walking to the lounge. He gave you guys a questioning look but didn’t comment, disappearing into the next room. 

You weren’t sure how to respond to that, so Dandy continued, “Which is why I think you shouldn’t go to the formal with Jason.”

You frowned, “How do you know he asked me?”

“The whole school knows!” Dandy retorted, and you remembered. “I think it’s a bad idea.”

“It doesn’t matter, I’m not going either way.”

Dandy looked surprised, and you saw the relief in his eyes. He laughed a little, his fingers drumming against his leg. “Oh.”

“What, are you jealous?” you asked, laughing at him. Dandy tried to hide his laughter, but it didn’t work. The quiet hallway was filled with your giggles.

“That’s for me to know and for you to find out.” Dandy said, and you were saddened to hear the bell ring. Dandy straightened up, the smile leaving his face as kids filed out of the cafeteria and the surrounding classrooms. Kids stared at you and whispered, many laughing and wondering if you were now a couple. 

Jason slowly walked in your direction, but you didn’t want to say goodbye to Dandy. You were ashamed that you had avoided him for so long. You missed him. Dandy glanced behind you, his eyes sharpening as your new suitor waited patiently, his hands in his beige jacket. 

“Be careful around him.” Dandy whispered to you before he disappeared down the hall.

You approached Jason, who gave you a soft smile, “Am I missing something? Are you two together?”

You shook your head, a light smile on your lips, “No. We’re just friends.”

“Oh…” Jason nodded, “Look, I just wanted to say that I’m sorry if I freaked you out the other day. We don’t have to go to the dance together, but-.”

“Oh!” you gasped. Jason frowned, giving you a quizzical look. “The dance… I forgot,” you lied. “Uhm, I’m actually not going. I have other plans…” you said.

Jason looked defeated but took the rejection gracefully. You promised you’d sit with him again tomorrow, and he visibly cheered up at that. You ended up having to sprint to your locker for your books after saying goodbye, but you couldn’t stop thinking about Dandy’s warning. 

“Be careful around him.”

The Friday before the dance went to complete shit.

That morning you ate your breakfast slowly, listening to your parents argue in the kitchen over a business deal your mother thought was a bad idea. Your father was greedy and looked towards the top dollar than what was best for the business and the family. 

If that wasn’t bad enough, Winter fell sick and couldn’t go to school. You had to wait for your father to finish getting ready before he could drive you. You were ten minutes late and got a verbal warning; you never got in trouble at school. You had three tests in a row, and by lunch, you were about to rip your hair out.

Jason was nowhere to be found, so you sat with Zoe. She was worried that Winter would miss the dance but was happy that she’d at least have Kyle if Winter canceled. Kyle came and sat with you guys, his shaggy blond hair wet from the downpour outside. 

You were anxiously looking around the cafeteria for any sign of Dandy. He had missed a few days of school, citing a fever when you called his house and spoke to his maid, Dora. You wished him well and knew he’d pull through fast. Plus, you saw his car this morning when you got dropped off. 

“They’re going to cancel the dance if more kids fall ill,” Kyle said as he ate a burger. Zoe glared at him, telling him to look on the bright side of things. 

“What? I am!” Kyle replied, smirking at his new girlfriend.

“I’m sure they won’t cancel.” you placated Zoe, who beamed at you. “All the parents who gave money will be pissed.”

You ate most of your lunch when the principal walked in. The room immediately quieted as he observed the tables before landing on you. He walked to you briskly, and you felt your heart racing as he approached. 

Am I getting detention? I’ve only been late once!

“Ms. y/l/n, could you come with me?” he asked politely, smiling at you, Zoe, and Kyle.

You nodded slowly, bunching up your trash and placing it on the tray. Zoe told you to leave it, and they’d take care of it. You quietly thanked her and followed Principal Harmon out, struggling to keep pace with his long, thin legs.

“Is everything alright, sir?” you asked. Now wondering if your parents died in some fiery crash or if you failed a class. 

“There’s been a disturbance outside this afternoon,” Harmon replied, his voice grim. “With Mr. Mott and Mr. Dean.”

You were shocked to hear this. You were silent during the rest of the trek to his office. When he opened the door, you saw both boys sitting in chairs. They both had packs of ice on their faces and sheepish expressions.

“What were you thinking?” you hissed to them as Mr. Harmon gestured for you to take the empty seat next to Dandy.

“Well, now that y/n is here, I think you both owe her an explanation and an apology.” 

Jason and Dandy shared a look. Dandy now looked pissed, and you could only imagine what lead to this. 

Oh, I have a pretty good fucking idea.

[forthemorefortunate]

Live Like Animals

Nessian Modern AU

Merry Chris-  er, happy New Year to my secret snowflake!  @ncssian 💕😅

I hope you like the fic! I’ll be honest, when I filled out the application for the secret snowflake, I said I could make a fic believing that it was very unlikely somebody would ask for one 🥴🤔 But lemme say, I LOVED writing this, which is definitely something I didn’t expect. More than that, I’ve never been much of a Nesta or Nessian fan, but actually thinking through their characters and interactions for this fic gave me a whole new perspective on and appreciation for them (even if I’m not the best at writing their characters, aha), so thank you!

A few quick things about the fic:

(Ik I already told you this, but for anybody else reading this aha) This is my first fic! So please take it easy on me 🥺👉🏻👈🏻

Okay so this part is kind of weird, but there’s kind of a corresponding playlist 😅 Each part is named after a song. You can play the songs while reading or not, I know for me personally (*cough* my ADHD ass) it’s hard to listen to music and read at the same time. The title is also the name of a song! Except that one is more random, haha (I couldn’t think of a title, so I shuffled my entire library and chose the first song as the title, and it kinda worked so I went with it)

One more quick thing – thanks to @moussescientist @ko0mbayamylord @blxckbeak @chanberry @mikitheswiftie @potatoburp @dead-on-the-inside666 @queenoffortunes and two anons for answering a question, and a HUGE thanks to Skye, @oneoutofamillionbooklovers for all your help and for roleplaying the parts I got stuck on with me ❤️

Part 1: Distant Early Warning (Rush)

Nesta pulled the dress over her head, letting it slide into place over her body. Screw this, she thought for the millionth time, yet she continued to get herself ready, turning to glance at her reflection when she was finished. She raised an eyebrow and nodded slightly at the woman looking back through the mirror. The woman Nesta spied had on a satin slip dress, darkest blue. She wore no jewelry save for the small silver studs in her ears, and her hair was pulled into a neat-yet-simple updo.

Why Nesta even agreed to go to this party she didn’t know. There was nothing different about it, just another college booze fest. The music would be too loud, the air too heavy, the guys too grabby, and the company too... clubby. Feyre insisted that she would fit right into her friend group – her clique – but Nesta wasn’t sure she wanted that. She padded over to the door of her apartment. No, Nesta was quite certain that “fitting in” with Feyre’s newfound friends was something she didn’t care for at all.

Nesta’s phone buzzed on her kitchen counter as she slipped on a pair of black heels, and she picked up to Feyre’s forcibly perky voice. “Hey! We just pulled up, you coming?”

“No.” Response blunt, tone dry. The line was silent for a long moment, and Nesta held in a sigh. “Did I give you the impression that I was interested in coming?”

“Nesta, I’m not in the mood for fucking around,” Feyre said, perkiness mysteriously faded now. “It’s just one party! I promise you’ll have fun.” Bullshit.

“Since when have I ever-”

“And everyone else really wants you to come, too!” Feyre cut her off, “Rhys is excited to meet you!”

Rhys. Feyre’s boyfriend. Nesta groaned inwardly, truly dreading any interaction with the rugby star. Feyre had immediately caught the eye of the local heartthrob, and the two began a serious relationship shortly after meeting. And with one came the others. In high school they would have been labeled “popular.” They were quite possibly the closest group of friends at the college, almost all of them having known each other since childhood. And Feyre had slipped right in among them. Nesta had warned Feyre against making the tight pack of fourth-years her main group of friends, and she had her own opinions about a freshman dating a senior, but Feyre didn’t make a habit of following Nesta’s advice. Rather, she seemed to think she could give Nesta – a third-year – much more valuable guidance. Domineering bitch.

“I don’t give a shit about your friends, Feyre. I’m only coming because of our deal,” Nesta said. Feyre had been pestering her all semester, spewing crap about how Nesta and Feyre should spend more time together. Nesta should get out more. Nesta should tag along with Feyre’s friend group. Nesta should have some fun. 

More bullshit. 

As second semester began, Feyre had proposed a deal: Nesta would go to one party with Feyre and her buddies, and if she honestly didn’t enjoy it, Feyre would stop asking her to join them. 

“I’m on my way. Let’s just get it over with,” Nesta grumbled, and with that, she hung up the phone and opened the apartment door.

Part 2: Can You Afford to Be An Individual? (Nothing but Thieves

Nesta looked around the group of fourth-years–plus Feyre–arranged in front of her. Introductions were unnecessary; you couldn’t attend this school without knowing who they were. Her eyes fell first upon Rhys, his arm around Feyre’s waist. His chin lifted slightly as she made eye contact. Rhys: double major in history and foreign policy. President of the astrology club. Captain of the rugby team, possibly one of the best players the school had ever seen. He was the group leader, though nobody said it aloud. Nesta knew him well. Perhaps she only knew his type well, or her own perception of his type, but that didn’t keep her from holding his gaze a few moments longer than would be comfortable. Then she turned her scrutiny on his sidekicks, so she called them, Cassian and Azriel. The former wore jeans and a baggy black jacket over his rugby uniform in the school colors: black and red. The latter wore black pants with a dark blue button-down shirt untucked.

Cassian smirked as her eyes met his. “Glad you decided to make an appearance,” he drawled. She narrowed her eyes at him, and his smile widened in response. Cocky bastard. Azriel, double majoring in political science and criminology, simply nodded at her in greeting.

After the sidekicks came Rhys’s cousin Mor, an architecture major with a minor in design. She was entirely too peppy in a way that left Nesta exhausted, but Nesta wouldn’t give her satisfaction by scoffing at her cocked hip and half-grin, ostensibly projecting confidence. She held Mor’s stare, matching her asserted confidence with a cool security in her own assets. The half-smile twisted, just slightly, and Nesta moved on to the short girl farthest to the right: Amren.

Amren scared people. As in, people were genuinely freaked out by her. Aside from a few cultish tendencies, her occasional propensity for violence and/or verbal outbursts, and her sharp expression, though, Nesta couldn’t tell why. Amren majored in gemology and minored in linguistics, and was the only one in the group other than Feyre to have not known the others since they were little. In fact, she was studying here from abroad, though nobody actually knew where she was from. Unlike Mor, Amren presented a confidence that Nesta could believe in and respect. Nesta maintained her chilled posture, but let the bite in her expression retreat.

As for Feyre’s introducing Nesta, that was unnecessary as well. They all knew her; most upperclassmen did. Or rather they knew of her, by the name of heinous bitch. If she were being honest with herself, she didn’t mind the nickname.

“Okay,” Feyre started, her voice expectant as she tilted her chin to look at Rhys’s face, “Let’s head in?” Feyre, Rhys, and Nesta had met up with the rest of the group in the parking lot before they entered the party. Fashionably late, Feyre had told her on the drive in Rhys’s tesla. Rhys taught me that the key to maintaining his public image is in making grand entrances. God, Nesta wanted to laugh at Rhys’s influence over her.

As they entered the building holding the party Nesta immediately stiffened, and had to close her eyes for a moment against the harsh blue and purple lights cast by PAR cans. All senses at once were smacked by the presence of weed. The floor was vibrating, and speakers blasted near-deafening music so that all Nesta could really hear was thunder. Jesus Christ, I hate parties, she thought. A mass of sweaty bodies shifted and bounced through the too-heavy air ahead of her, some only silhouettes in the murky haze, through which Nesta saw red solo cups littering every possible surface. Suddenly she noticed Feyre standing next to her, fidgeting with her clutch and looking over expectantly. Nesta shot her a withering look that said, “This is not what we agreed to.” Feyre had the nerve to look guilty.

“Okay before you say anything,” Feyre began, “I know that look, and... I know this is a bit bigger than we talked about-”

“A bit?! This is a rager, Feyre. Do I look like I rage?”

“Okay no, but I promise Rhys and I have a plan.” Oh my God.

Nesta gave her another glare and plucked a cup off a nearby table. Sniffing it, she sighed and took a big swig. “Please, my dearest sister, do tell.”

“We’re going with a buddy system.”

Nesta coughed. “A buddy system – are you fucking kidding me?” She spied Rhys and his dickhead friends in the corner of her eye. “Wow, are arts and crafts before or after beer pong?”

Feyre rolled her eyes, calling a fresh wave of frustration to roll over Nesta. “Can you shut it with the attitude, Nesta? I already apologized for the crowd of people – it kind of got out of hand. Rhys told me before we left but I didn’t want to scare you out of coming.” She gave Nesta a pleading look.

“Tch, whatever. Who’s my buddy? I assume you’ll be with Rhys?”

Feyre beamed at her. “You’re paired up with Cassian!”

“Cassian.” Great. Alpha dickhead.

“Don’t be like that. He knows his way around these things and he’ll keep you from accidentally overdosing or blacking out.” 

“Who said that wasn’t my intention?” 

Feyre scrunched her face up. “Either way, you can’t deny that he’s bigger and taller than half the creepy guys here. He’ll keep unwanted attention away.” 

Nesta watched as Rhys, lead hulking rugby bro dickhead, caught sight of her sister and eyed her with what might have been lust or love – Nesta couldn’t decide. Cassian, approaching from Rhys’s side, cut Nesta a slow, purposeful look down and back up to her face. She felt an annoying tingle down her spine as the crowds parted for them. This was going to be a long night.

Part 3: Inhaler (Foals)

They had been at the party for less than ten minutes and Nesta already wanted to leave. Drink in hand, she aimlessly wandered around the outskirts of the crowd, hoping to find a place to sit farther from the lights that drowned out any rational thought that flashed through her brain. Cassian trailed a few steps behind.

“So, what do you do for fun?”

She twisted around to glare at him. “Why are you talking to me?”

Cassian puffed out a laugh and spread his arms wide, responding, “If you don’t recall, we’re kind of stuck together, darling.”

Right. Nesta rolled her eyes. “How could I forget?” Cassian left the question hanging, still following her, so she forged on. “I like to read. A concept that’s probably foreign to you.” She dodged a young couple parting from the fray to make out against the wall, and paused to reorient herself.

“You might be surprised.” Nesta groaned inwardly and arched a brow. “Oh I have no doubt.”

“None at all?”

“What. Are you on volume seven of Captain Underpants?”

“Volume eight, actually.”

Nesta stopped. She was pissed. Pissed at this party, pissed at Feyre for lying about how big it was, pissed that she was stuck with rugby bro sidekick, pissed that the purple lights suddenly seemed a lot brighter, the music a lot louder, her thoughts a lot fuzzier. “Look, Cassian. I only came here as a favor to my sister. We’re not friends.” He started to cut her off, but she continued, turning so that they fully faced each other, “You don’t have to stay, I can take care of myself.”

He leaned in close, the laughter in his tone suddenly gone. “Listen, princess. You’ve had two beers and you’re already tipsy. I get it, we’re not friends. But there are at least four guys looking at you like they want to take you against the nearest surface and I’m the only man within a thirty-foot radius that has any self-control. There’s no way I’m leaving.” He held her gaze firmly.

“So that’s it – I’m just supposed to trust you? My knight in shining armor, here to protect my virtue? That ship sailed a long time ago.” Fuck it. “I wouldn’t mind taking you for a ride though,” Nesta said, flashing a smirk at the end.

Cassian’s lips twisted into a half-grin, but she could see annoyance rising up in his eyes. “Nesta, you don’t wanna play with me.”

“Brute.” Nesta turned and started walking away again.

“Bitch.” He followed.

Nesta scoffed. “How original.”

“Not all of us are English Lit majors.” 

Somehow Nesta tripped on her own foot at that moment, staggering sideways into Cassian’s path. He lunged forward, arms going around her waist to hoist her upright. Her lip curled and she spit out, “And not all of us are rugby stars,” and shoved her way out of his arms.

“What does that have to do with anything?” Cassian asked, incredulous.

“Cassian, I’m sure there are plenty of girls here that would love your attention. But I’m not one of them.” She turned around to face him, walking backwards, and almost tripped again. “So go on and play with someone else. I don’t care. Just leave me alone.” With that, Nesta thrust herself into the fray, pushing her way through the mass of shouting people, making the crowd a barrier between herself and Cassian.

Part 4: Emergency (Nothing but Thieves)

After five minutes of random college students bumping into her from every direction, her head pounding and thoughts muddled, Nesta realized she didn’t know which direction the exit was in. Fuck. She was disoriented and exasperated, her frustration now showing in her usually unshakable expression. She couldn’t even tell which direction the light was coming from. How many beers had she drunk? Two? Three? She wasn’t usually a drinker, and it hit her then that she hadn’t eaten for hours before the party started. Stupid, she thought. This was why she didn’t do parties.

She was so distracted trying to figure out where the light source was, trying to get her bearings at least, that she didn’t catch sight of a brooding figure wending its way toward her until the man had a hold of her wrist and was pulling her to the side of the room, wherever that was. 

“Hey! Get the fuck off me!” Nesta shouted over the crowd, but couldn’t get a response from the man until they found one of the cinder block walls.

“What’s the matter, sweetheart?” he asked, his voice cruel as he tried to pull her closer. “We’re just having a bit of fun, that’s all.”

“Excuse me?” Nesta ripped free of his grasp, but he backed her into a corner. He had a drink in one hand. Not good.

“Hey, hey, no need to get worked up,” he drawled, “I saw the way you were looking at me.” Looking at him? Nesta thought. This was the first she’d seen of him.

Nesta tried to step to the side, but the man followed her, his senses keener than hers in her condition. He reached out for her arm again, and Nesta shouted this time. “Don’t touch me!”

He put his hand up as if in innocence. “Come now, I’ll make it fun for you. Just have a drink.” He brought the cup toward her face, his hand now reaching behind her head, which she snatched away.

“I swear to God, can’t you bastards understand that no means no?”

“You-”

“Get the fuck away from me, creep!” She aimed a kick at his groin, but he easily dodged it.

His mouth hardened into a line, and he growled, “Just take the damn drink, bitch!”

The man shoved her into the corner, her head hitting the wall. He brought his hand up to hold her back by her shoulders as he brought the cup up toward her lips and-

“Let me go or I promise you’ll regret it.” Last resort. 

He shot her a crooked grin and began to reply, but whatever response he had in mind was cut short.

A voice from behind him said, “And she never goes back on a promise, asshole.” The man was wrenched off her body by two strong hands, and pulled over to the side to give her an out, which she quickly took advantage of.

And there, dragging the man away from her, was Cassian.

The creep tried to play it cool. “Hey, Cassian, bro, what’s up, man?” he said mock-casually, “I caught your last game! great playing, dude!” His demeanor shifted completely as he turned on his bro mode.

Cassian’s jaw was set. He tightened his grip on the man’s shoulder, his stare withering. “You need to leave. Right now.”

Yet the man kept going with a smirk, “It’s all good bro, we can share.” 

That was a step too far.

Cassian grabbed the man’s shirt, pulling him close. “That’s the thing – I don’t share. I don’t play nice.” Cassian thrust his face forward so they were only a couple inches apart. “You said you caught my last game, right? So you know I don’t go down without a fight. Touch her again and you’ll regret it.” With that, he shoved the guy into a table, and turned to Nesta. “Come on, I’ll take you home.”

Part 5: Before We Drift Away (Nothing but Thieves)

Dizzy and shaken, Nesta let Cassian guide her through the crowd to the exit. Once they were outside in the cool night air, he pulled her aside, gaze dark.

“Did he hurt you?”

“No.”

“Did he force you to drink whatever was in that cup?”

“No.”

His eyes closed and relief flooded across his face. “Good. God, some people are fucked up. I don’t know what I would have done if he had drugged you, or taken you away, or...” He trailed off, leaving anything further than that unsaid. 

They were silent for a minute. Nesta looked up at him, a bit of worry still etched across his features. “Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why do you care so much?”

He looked over to her, something strange in his expression that Nesta couldn’t place. “I don’t know. You’re a human being, and your safety was left in my hands.” He paused and looked away. “If I’m being honest, when I saw that guy put his hands on you... I don’t know. Something flipped inside me.” At that moment he looked down to her bare shoulders, noticing that she was beginning to shiver. “You’re cold,” he said softly. “Here, take this.” He removed his jacket and draped it over her shoulders, even when she protested.

Nesta frowned as she gave in and pulled his jacket tightly around her, annoyed at the way her body betrayed her. “I don’t need protection. I’ve lived a long time without people to care about me.” She started walking toward the parking lot, and he followed.

“You shouldn’t have to live like that, Nesta. You’ve been pushing me away all night, but listen to me – don’t you understand? I’m not just talking to you because I’m bored. I don’t smile at you as a game, as if you’re some prize for me to win. Can’t you see by now that I’m doing literally everything I can just to stay by your side? Damn it, I asked Feyre to pair us together at the party.”

Nesta had stopped walking and was speechless for once.

Cassian stepped closer tentatively, as though she’d back away. He ran a finger over Nesta’s wrist and looked up to the sky. “Please, just don’t make me say anything else completely insane. I promise I’m not in the habit of sharing intense moments with perfect strangers.”

A rush of anger coursed through Nesta, and she shoved him back. “Don’t,” she said. “Don’t talk to me like that. Despite what you must think, I’m not an idiot. I’m not naive. I am well aware that this is all a favor to my sister. Stay with my lame, antisocial sister. It might be fun, right?” She paused, any restraint she had used earlier having completely abandoned her.

“That’s not what I think at all, Nes-”

“Fuck you, Cassian.” She shoved him again, more aggressively this time.

Cassian caught her wrists and pulled her closer. “Try that again.”

Nesta glared. “Bite me,” she spit out.

“Maybe I will.”

And as though drawn to her by some gravitational force, Cassian’s mouth came crashing down onto hers. He wrapped his arms around her waist, seeming to lift her off her feet. Nesta’s bare skin burned where Cassian touched her, and she pushed back against his touch to gain control. Everything, every thought was fading to nothing. Biting down on his lip drew out a low groan from Cassian, and Nesta broke free.

Cassian put his hands up as though to make a barrier between them, as though he wouldn’t be able to control himself without it. 

“So much for being the only man with self-control,” Nesta said. Cassian just shook his head, earning a light snort from Nesta. “I shut everyone out--even pretty jocks like you. Don’t take it personally. It’s just easier.”

Cassian smiled his easy smile, and he reached up to touch his lips with a thumb. “You think I’m pretty?”

Nesta scoffed. “The prettiest.”

He stood there for a moment, just smiling at her, before turning back toward the parking lot. “Okay, princess, allow me to introduce you to the pinnacle of after-party activities.”

Nesta raised a brow, and Cassian let out a bark of laughter.

“Get your mind out of the gutter. I’m talking about pancakes.”

She looked skeptical. “Pancakes?”

“Yes. And after the night you had, you deserve an entire plate of them.” Cassian reached out to her with his big, warm hand, and Nesta hesitated.

“Cassian-” She started warily.

“Hey – I’m not asking you to marry me, it’s just pancakes.”

Nesta waited a moment more, then took his hand. “Fine. But I’m not sharing the chocolate sauce.”

“I wouldn’t dare ask you to. Besides, you already know how I feel about sharing.”

Nesta smiled a bit. “Hey Cassian?

“Yes Nesta?”

“Thank you.”

“Anytime.”

[random-mha-thoughts]

Culture Clash (Bakugou x Reader)

Pairing: Bakugou x Fem!Reader

Anon asked: "OH MY GOODNESS I FREAKING LOVE YOUR WRITING.💜🧡❤️💚 I have a request!! Would it be possible if you did a scenario with Bakugou x Female Reader where the Reader is a transfer student and comes from a country where is normal to kiss people in the cheek to say hello and kisses Bakugou but then she is told of the culture difference in Japan, then she is embarrassed but Bakugou is even more. HOPE YOU HAVE A GREAT DAY!!"

Genre: Fluff

Word count: 1,565

Tags:  @yuki-osaki @liviitehe @iamsoftsodonttoucheume-blog @bunnythepipsqueak

a/n: Thanks for the request anon dear! I hope I did it justice and it makes you feel good inside. 😊

Very quick and breezy Bakugou fluff.  Honestly, my Bakugou list seems to be catching up to Todoroki (meanwhile poor Shinsou’s list is abysmal T.T But my next post will be an angst post for him, which is still a win), you guys just really love requesting for Boom Boom Boy, don’t you?

As I said on my last ask, after the Shinsou post, I’ll take a break before answering the next 2 requests I got, because I have a few of my own original ideas that I’d like to write, so look forward to them~

"You must be nervous to start school so far away from home," Yaoyorozu touches my hand gently.  "I do hope you find yourself at home here at our school and here in Japan."

"Oh, it shouldn't be a problem at all!" I beam at her.  "I'd say I'm a friendly person, I can talk to people easily."

Transferring schools in the middle of high school is daunting for most people, but I have no problem with it.  One of the admins from UA were attending a conference in my country and put a recommendation for me to transfer schools at the start of the second year.  Yaoyorozu, as second in charge in class, was assigned to be my buddy to ease me into the rest of the class.  We've been talking since I was overseas and I was overjoyed to meet her in person.

"Are you nervous about staying in the dorms?" she asks me.

"Not at all!  I've always wanted to try going to school and staying away from home.  Do you guys get along well together?"

"We all have our own friend groups, but we spent time with each other as a class a fair amount of time as well."  She eyes my suitcase rolling behind me.  "Did you already receive your uniform?"

"Yup, they sent it over!  The rest of my stuff for the year should be coming in another shipment from my parents."

Finally, the dorm building I will call home for the next two years looms in front of me and I can't keep the dumb smile off my face.  While Yaoyorozu's talking about my sleeping arrangements, a boy swagger towards us from the opposite direction wearing just a black tank top and dark joggers.  My eyes glance over his toned physique before studying his face, a slight scowl even at rest, crimson eyes staring at the ground in thought.

"Oh, (Y/n)-san," Yaoyorozu calls him out of his thoughts.  "This is Bakugou-san, one of our classmates."

The boy looks down at me and I smile, leaning up to place a kiss on both of his cheeks instinctively.  "Pleasure to meet you, Bakugou!"

His resting bitch face freezes and he stiffens.  "Y-Yeah, same.  See you in class."  With that, he walks off quicker than his former pace.

I cock an eyebrow.  "He seems like a tough guy, but quite strange.  Is he nice?" I turn back to face Yaoyorozu.

Her face has turned a rosy tint of pink.  "I-I wouldn't say that.  He's a bit rough at the edges, but he's gotten a lot better since last year, I admit."

She seems a little uncomfortable, did I do something?  I roll my luggage up the stairs.  "I can't wait to meet the rest of the class!"  The door opens with a flourish, and I meet the eyes of about half the class.  Some of the girls were reading magazines on the couch and the boys were playing cards or games at the table.

The blond boy with a black streak in his hair and a small, purple haired boy immediately stand up.  "Who're you?" they boy ask a little too eagarly.

I wave at the group, excitement bubbling in me at the site of my new classmates.  "Hi everyone!  I'm (Full Name), the transfer student!  Please take care of me!"

"Oh, yes, we heard you were arriving today," another boy walks up to me, adjusting his glasses and extending his hand to me rigidly.  "Welcome to Class 2-A!"

I shake his hand, leaning forward to greet him, "Nice to meet-"

"Um, (Y/n)-san," Yaoyorozu's hand pulls my shoulder slightly.  "I hope I'm not rude in asking, but is there a particular reason you do that?"

She still a bit perturbed since we met Bakugou outside.  "Do what?"  I don't think she means to be impolite, but I'm still confused.

The girl hesitates as if she can't bring herself to say it.  "Kiss people on the cheek.  Is it a custom of some sort?"

My body relaxes. I thought there was something terribly wrong.  "Oh, that's how we greet people in my country.  It's something I appreciate about my culture, it shows how friendly we are!"

"Yes, I see that."  She rubs her hands up her arms.  "It might seem to be a problem here though, I'm sorry to say."

I blink.  "I did it when I greeted you and there was no problem though?"  The fog of perplexity returns to me.  I know there are rules in other countries different to my own, but surely I haven't done something unforgivable?

"Yes, but," her eyes dart around and her face flushes more, "It's not exactly custom for members of the opposite sex to interact with each other like that even if they're friends, let alone if you've just met them.  That's more reserved for um...public displays of affection."

It suddenly dawns on me the weight of what I've just done, especially to Bakugou.  "Oh.  I...see."

"Your face is all red now, (Y/n)-chan, ribbit," one of the girls with long, dark green hair chirps from the couch.

The bright blond haired boy's eyebrows furrow in concentration.  "Hey, you guys didn't happen to run into Bakugou, did you?"

"We did," Yaoyorozu answers while I'm frozen in place, heat still blooming across my cheeks.

The two boys and another one with short, black hair and large elbows burst into uncontrollable laughter.  "We were wondering why his face was so red when he got back from practice!  You must've kissed him, right?"

Oh no, I did.  The panic continues spreading up my body.

"She totally did!" the black-haired boy guffaws and the other two follow suit.

"Bakugou was that flustered by a little cheek kiss!"

"WHAT ARE YOU IDIOTS LAUGHING AT?!"

The first exposure to his screaming makes me jolt before I feel a debilitating mix of embarrassment and guilt, I don't even have the courage to look him in the eyes.  "Hey, you wanna lead me to my room?  I'll go unpack and settle in," I reach for Yaoyorozu, trying to compose myself back to normal.

"Of course, let's go up this way."

I'm grateful for her judgement of avoiding the chaos about to ensue.  The laughter from the boys and the teasing coupled with Bakugou's defensive screams still follow us while we're in the elevator.  What have I done.

.

On the first day of classes the next day, I try to avoid Bakugou as much as possible.  I know his angry, violent type well.  He dislikes me for embarrassing him in front of his friends and giving them fodder to make fun of him for.  If he decides to confront me, I know I'll crumble into a mess of apologies.

Which is exactly what happens when we both happen to see each other in the halls during lunch.  There's no avoiding him as we were the only two people there; I turn around and suddenly he's there, staring down at me with those piercing eyes.  I don't have it in me to fake my bubbly small talk and slip my way out, I have to own up to it.

"I'm sorry I made you embarrassed like that, it wasn't my intention, it was all out of instinct.  Please forgive me, don't be mad!"  The words fly out of my mouth and I scrunch my eyes shut for fear of what he might say next, steeling myself for his angry yells.

They never come, instead there's just an exhale in the form of a thoughtful "Hm."  I slowly wrench open my eyes, only to see him quirking an eyebrow down at me curiously.

"You don't need to be sorry about it, it's fine."  Evaluating my still-cautious figure, he leans back a little to relax.  "Yeah, I was taken off guard by the kiss, I admit, but my friends are also idiots, I can easily just bust them up a bit and they'll leave me alone."

I breathe a sigh of relief.  "I see."  The last thing I want is to be that cliched transfer student who gets bullied and becomes the outsider.

Bakugou swipes his tongue over his lip quickly.  "That was...pretty ballsy of you to do, actually.  I think it's cute.  It's a shame our cultures clash like that."

I'm taken off guard by his sudden change in aura, the cockiness that twitches the corner of his lip up compliments his rugged, boyish charm, especially with his unbuttoned and untucked uniform.  His eyes glance over me teasingly before he walks past me.  "Y-Yeah, it's a shame," I finally conjure up words to say, even if they're a lame response.

His body turns back halfway.  "In a way, I'm glad I was the only guy who you got to do it to," he smirks at me.

That kind of sign is interpreted the same way regardless of the culture, so I decide to return it, gathering up the same energy.  "I wouldn't mind doing it again, just for you since you're okay with it."

"Doesn't sound like a bad idea," he chuckles low before facing forward and leaving.  "See you in class."

I watch his receding back, leaning against the wall behind me to steady myself as the excitement grows weightlessly within me.  The smile on my face refuses to be brought down.  I guess there are some things that are just universal.

[mukamibabe]

Reaction of the Sakamaki/Mukami brothers to a girl who is an introvert, has a resting bitch face,quiet,likes to read the things she interested in and sleep, doesn't like being around people and stuck with conversations with them rather she prefers being alone in a room doing her thing and also who is a night owl.🖤👀

hellooo ! thank you for your request anon, sorry to you (and the rest of you guys who i love so dearly! <3) for disappearing. but !!! i felt like writing a few days ago, so i just looked at my latest request and just. .went with it! i hope you like it! and i hope i can make some more content, i’m on a writing kick i think ??  love you !!  ❤️️

Sakamaki’s:

Shu:

honestly? this sounds like a perfect match for him?? he won’t admit it but he definitely likes her (platonically and/or romantically(?)) 

seriously though if they make an effort to like.. be with him (again, platonic or not, doesn’t matter) he will DEF be cool with it, especially if they kind of just does their own thing

it sounds like a nice time to him- he can just lay down and listen to music, or,, whatever else he wants to (eheh-) and they can just vibe on the couch next to him

he literally doesn’t mind having them around as long as they’re not noisy and talkative. besides, he doesn’t mind having some fresh prey around either

oh and also the rbf ?? he lowkey likes it lol, the more intimidating you look, the less likely someone’s going to bug you, so it’s just another reason to keep you around

Reiji: 

not too much of a deal for him, but it doesn’t sound bad.? introverts are cool, quietness is even better, and reading is *top tier* lol

however, he’s still going to be as strict as he is with anyone else. once your like.. truly in reiji’s life, he’s in control of you now-

as always, he does have some complaints about a few things. to him, sleep is annoying and anyone who sleeps,, too much,, is too much of a reminder of his brother, so he would like that to change

he actually doesn’t mind that they don’t like to talk with others and stuff. he will earn their trust, and then they can be his. he wouldn’t have to worry about others trying to steal them, especially if they don’t want to talk to others

all in all, he’s a bit pushy in trying to kind of.. make them ‘perfect’ in his standards (which isn’t possible, and he knows this, but he likes to make the people in his life a bit better, if it’s possible) 

this would probably include him criticizing some of their reading choices, their sleep schedule, (however i feel like definitely understands being a night-owl)

Ayato:

well.. at first he’s a bit bored with them, but it’s tempting for him to like.. break them and open them up, if you understand. he’s determined to have them come out of their shell one way or another

and honestly that’s pretty much it? they probably wont really catch his eye, or  anything, after all, it is ayato, and he can only notice someone as great as him (cough cough)

that being said, they probably always look like they don’t want to be bothered, which could drive him into wanting to interact with them. he likes to push buttons, and he’d have some fun bugging them lol

if, however, they don’t end up giving him any sort of reaction, kind of just ignoring him all the time, he might just like.. either continue even more,, maybe encouraging a reaction with a nice, vampy suck skdjfhksdfh

regardless, blood is always good so.. yay, food for ayato !

Kanato:

well. . he's pretty judgmental. he might like straight up say he doesn't like their face, *if* they somehow ever start talking

i can't really picture him wanting to interact with them, he really doesn't care about others and they don't stand out, which is kind of a positive thing in kanato's eyes

all in all, it could work, his favorite thing about them would probably be their quietness and introverted self.

his only problem with that would be that they have to talk to him. he doesn't really get it, especially if they're like ???no thanks kanato i dont wanna talk

he'll throw a fit over it lol. i do see them being friends though, at least a bit if they allow it.

Laito:

has the same mindset as ayato. introverts are a fun time for him, a challenge if anything. the fact that they look so.. bitchy too is even more exciting to him

honestly i can see them being friends as well, it kinda depends on how he met them anyways ? kinda ??

he'll still.. be laito though. he's gonna try and mess with you, friends or not- he's not too bad but like. . friends with benefits eh? ?? (he’ll be pushy about it forever if it never does happen so um,,,-)

honestly he’s just gonna bother them all the time, that’s pretty much it

Subaru: 

it sounds pretty good to him, honestly. lowkey he thinks they sound like him in a way, which is perfect. don’t expect him to interact with though, the only way they could possibly have any sort of relationship is with them interacting first

otherwise, it’s unlikely. however!! if the relationship starts to bud, it’ll be super compatible. they can just be quiet, and so can he. that is, if he even wants them around. 

even as a friend he’s not fond of having people around, he doesn’t want to do anything that he doesn’t want to, and the best way to prevent that is by not being around at all

so, really it’ll take a lot of effort from them, as subaru will just mind his own business, but it can definitely work out, as they sound pretty chill to subaru, anyways

Mukami’s

Ruki:

honestly, he’s not impressed or anything ? they don’t stand out to him, and he’ll continue with his business as usual. 

kinda like laito, it depends on how they meet each other. if it has something to do with like.. a bride or something, then he’d like them a bit more, but if it involves meeting like.. in a random public place he’s likely to not care, if you know what I mean ?

anyways, it actually sounds perfect for him, in his eyes. the only thing he might prefer is to have them out of their room a little more often, and he’d encourage them to do so

he’s fond of the idea of reading together, too :>

Kou: 

another one who really wont notice them at first. they’re boring, but like ayato it might be fun to try and open them up and get them out of their shell . 

in order to do so, though, he needs to interact with them first which is .. highly unlikely as he’s always dealing with fans

that’s it, really? unless they can actively entertain him in one way or another, he probably wont want to be around them unless he’s like.. reaallly bored or something

again, going with the bride thing-y, he’d probably just hand them off to ruki

Yuma: 

well, it’s not the worst. they remind him of that idiot waste of space neet, buuut .. it can work! i’ve repeated this so many times i think but either buddies or lovers, he’ll be okay with it all

they sound really low matienence too so that’s kind of even better? he’ll get to do whatever he wants, and then just barge in and bug you whenever he feels like it

he thinks books are stupid, and most likely will wake them up the moment he sees them like.. napping and it’ll be really annoying ngl but like..umm,,, 

if worst comes to worse, he’ll just like.. use them as a bloodbank (if that’s not the case already ...?)

Azusa:

i.. am not sure whether this is a good or bad thing? he likes how quiet they can be, but really is lowkey intimidated

he thinks that they remind him of ruki, which. .ya,, intimidating- 

so it might take both sides to break out of their shells ? ? i can’t see azusa just like.. openly speaking to them because he doesn’t want to bother you, but if it ever happens, he’ll just talk about how much you remind him of his brother (how cute~)

also, if they like. . actually respond do him, he’ll be very happy and think that you’re his friend now!! which makes him very happy!! very!! he’ll show you allll his knives and cuts, which.. ehem,, ,,- regardless of their reaction, you’re his friend now, and he’s not going to just let you go

[sxveme-2]

blueberry pancakes // bucky barnes

MASTERLIST

Description: A single mother. Juggling being a mom, a full time pediatrician, and a difficult ex who believed now would be the best time to finally be a father. A soldier ripped out of time. Ex-assassin turned superhero. Learning how to balance a new domestic life with handling demons of his past, while facing the trials of the future. a love story began over something as simple as chocolate chip pancakes with hidden blueberries.

Disclaimer: I do not own any original Marvel characters! All canon plots and canon characters belong to Marvel Comics and Marvel Studios. This is an original work. You may not publish it anywhere else

Status: Edited

Note: Takes place after endgame. I have elected to ignore Tony's death and Steve's leaving. Did not happen. Quick Reminder! My works are only published here, AO3 and on Wattpad, thank you.

Chapter Thirteen: The One With the Aftermath

Warnings: N/A

Word Count: 1937

    "He did what!?" Gen and Rose's high-pitched squeals vibrated through the cellphone, resulting in Lily dropping it from her hands in surprise. Lily had broken the news to the two about the actions taken by Mr. James Buchanan Barnes just hours before in her kitchen. The way his calloused hand and cool prosthetic rested against her pale cheeks, holding her face as though it were a fine piece of china that would break if he applied too much pressure. Followed by the pressing of his petal-soft lips to her own, creating undeniable friction between the two not even Lily's deflective tendencies could deny. All over a cup of coffee.

"Okay woah, let's relax there," Lily sighed while finishing zipping up the flower-patterned muted coral skirt she had slid on above her white lace tank top. Her hand gripped onto a cropped red cardigan that hit just below the waist of the high-cut skirt. A cute and simple outfit that encompassed the true aesthetic of Lily Osborne. One that the girls on the phone disapproved of. Speaking of which, "It was just a kiss...it doesn't mean anything, right?"

Two conflicting parts of Lily seemed to have been raging war in her mind. On one hand, she prayed and hoped that the kiss meant nothing to him. That it was simply a heat of the moment sort of thing. The tension and adrenaline of the night had welled to a head in Bucky and he made an impulsive decision that didn't mean anything. It was just a kiss. Nothing more. Nothing less. But on the other hand, Lily secretly wished that the kiss was out of some sort of romantic feeling. That he had kissed her because the slight crush that Lily had on the man out of time was reciprocated. And that he felt the same way that she did. But honestly, she wouldn't believe that if someone wrote it in the sky out of the smoke from a plane. Mostly because she herself didn't believe it was even remotely possible. A guy like that liking a girl like her? It was a cliche trope but she never thought in her wildest dreams he would even look at her in a way like that.

"You should totally ask him," Rose chimed in, seemingly shooing someone away. Lily had figured the two were sitting in the kitchen at Gen's cafe, munching on pastries as they awaited even more juicy gossip from Lily. But they would be sadly disappointed because the kiss was really the only news that Lily had. But it wouldn't stop them from hoping, "He seems like an honest guy. He already kissed you and you kissed back, what's the worst that could happen?"

After a few more minutes of back and forth between the three girls, Lily hung up her phone to focus on fixing the mop of golden hair atop her head. It was only 9 o'clock in the morning, and after the events that had transpired the night before, Lily didn't expect to see Hunter come in to her room or down to the main floor for another while. Bucky, however, Lily didn't know if he was wandering around her home, or if he had taken off somehow. If the avengers sent someone to pick him up or something. But, after leaving the soft curls be and dancing across her shoulders, Lily would soon come to learn that answer to her confusion before.

Sitting at the birchwood dinner table sat Bucky Barnes and Lily's son plowing down on some frosted flakes while laughing over something. Lily stood on the landing of the stairs, heart growing even larger than it already was. It felt as though the beating organ inside of her may explode at the drop of a hat if she kept staring at the beautiful moment in front of her. A beaming smile on her son’s youthful face and a mirrored one on the stubble-covered and worn face of the Winter Soldier. Neither boy had spotted the blonde staring longingly at them from the staircase, and she prayed silently that they didn't. Instead, she slid her phone out of her skirt pocket and took a quick picture, wanting to relive the moment a million times over if she could.

"Mom!" Hunter exclaimed when Lily's feet hit the bottom of the stairs finally. He shot from his chair and curled his slim arms around the waist of his mother. Lily smiled gently as she bent down to rest a kiss on his forehead before turning to the older man who too seemed to watch in bliss at the interaction. A similar expression to the one Lily wore just moments ago.

"Morning buddy, didn't expect to see you awake right now." the blonde smiled after Hunter released her from his grip and returned to his seat. She bent down to pick up Joey's dish, the dog's ears perking up from the mat in front of the door to the backyard. After she filled up the dog’s food and gave him his morning kisses, Lily found herself sitting at the table across from the brunette man that had stayed in her guest bedroom the night before, "Frosted flakes this morning, hm? I thought these were only for Saturday breakfasts and your birthday?"

"I pulled them out, they were the first thing I saw when I opened the pantry, I hope that's okay." His timid voice radiated across the table towards Lily, causing her eyes to shift from her son over to the rugged man that sat across from her at the table. A faint grin spread along her slightly puffed features caused by her morning rise. For a second, their eyes met and the world melted away as it always seemed to do when they met iris's. Something that Lily was sure she wouldn't be able to get used to.

-----

Not too long after all three had completed their breakfast, Lily had to excuse herself. She had a duty to call her lawyer today and set up a review of her and Scott's custody agreement. There was no way in hell after that stunt occurred, Scott would be keeping partial custody of their son. He left Hunter home alone with a clearly lousy babysitter, as well as he had lied to mary about who her child was left in the hands of. Everything about the situation was already unnerving for Lily. One part in particular that just stuck in her mind like it had been superglued, was the fact Hunter had said that the person attempting to break into Scott's apartment, or at least get his attention, was there specifically for Scott. Not just to play a heinous joke or commit a petty crime. No, they were looking for Scott Harvey specifically. And that one part did not sit well with Lily.

But instead, she had a New York-level lawyer to handle.

"Lily! it's been ages since you've called. what can I do for you today love?" the man's raspy voice echoed through the phone she held to her ear.

Carter Evanson was the man that helped Lily through the roughest parts of her divorce. Kept her sane through the entire process alongside Rose and Gen. She had been so thankful for his kind words of encouragement as she would recount the numerous emotional trauma stories she had faced in her marriage to Scott. How he hadn't touched her in ages. How whenever he came home he was drunk and always smelled of another woman's perfume. But Lily never decided to look further into these things back then. He had made her believe that nothing she did would ever make her good enough. He was the best she would get. No other man would want a woman who already had a kid and a divorce under her belt. Scott Harvey had manipulated Lily into believing she was less worthy of just about anything in the world, and she continued to believe it to this day.

But Carter's kind voice created a sense of comfort throughout the whole divorce process. Always encouraging her and remind her how good of an idea this was. That everything would work out for her. How she was strong enough to get through it without chickening out like she always seemed to do. Whether it was his warm and energetic voice that would constantly play in the back of her mind when sitting down at Scott's lawyer’s table, writing out their custody agreement as well as their splitting of assets. And because of him, the divorce became final and the majority of assets and custody landed in the a-line skirt-covered lap of Lily Osborne.

"Hey Carter, I need to set up an appointment with Scott to redo the entire custody agreement. Something happened and Hunter cannot go back there- oh I'm getting another call," Lily continued, clearing her throat after placing the lawyer on hold and answering the call, "Doctor Lily Osborne."

"Ms. Osborne? This is sergeant Harrison, we just interviewed the man who attempted to break into your ex-husband's apartment last night and uh...we need you to come into the station. Right now if possible." the police officer explained, his voice reverberating through the front of her mind, setting off her heart into a mile a minute race.

-----

Arriving at the LAPD station, or more specifically, the 88th precinct, Lily rushed through and up the elevator and up towards where they had instructed Lily to go. She had to apparently see the culprit, so after convincing Bucky to watch the young boy that is Hunter Osborne, she arrived at the precinct in a rush. The moment she heard the elevator ding, she ran out in a rush and past the small gate that blocked off the desks from the public. She saw the Sergeant she spoke to on the phone and let her ballet flat-clad feet rush forward.

"Ms. Osborne, thank you for getting here so fast." the large man sighed, neck-craning down to look at the small blonde that had rushed through, "here, come with me." Sergeant Harrison sighed softly while leading the young doctor towards the interview room.

He walked her through the doors that kept them separate from the criminal that sat in front of the two-way mirror. The moment that Lily spotted the man in front of her, the young girl had to furrow her eyebrows together. The mop of blonde hair atop the man’s head screamed at Lily in a violent signal that there was something very wrong here. The way his shoulder slouched and the fact that she was unable to see his face because of his hunched posture. She figured he was too embarrassed or ashamed to even look at himself in the mirror that the police officer and Lily looked through. But his body type, his hair, the bracelet that sat on his hand looked so familiar to Lily.

"Alright sir please state your name quickly so we can get this show started." a woman's voice sighed as she entered the room that was blocked off from Lily's presence. She was a breathtaking beauty and it almost took Lily back before she reminded herself that was not exactly what she was here for. To be honest, she wasn't 100% sure why she was actually here.

A screeching behind her caught the blonde’s attention. The Sergeant that had brought her in had pushed a chair up behind her, gesturing her to sit. Saying a quick remark about how she may need to with what she was about to learn. It caused her heart to set off into such a quick beat that she was worried it may explode inside of her chest. Whatever was about to happen clearly wasn't good news for Lily. So she sat and waited. And almost threw up.

"My name is Cedar Osborne."

[5lazarus]

Lore and the Prophets

Written for the Boldly Go Gift Exchange (go check it out, everyone’s wonderful!), and crossposted to AO3 here. Lore thinks he can sneak off Deep Space Nine and get through the wormhole without anyone noticing. The Prophets have other ideas. special thanks to @saathiray for helping me work out the plot and @planesofduality for cheering me on!

Lore is tasting Romulan ale at Quark’s bar, using Data’s credits. His brother comes in useful occasionally, though rarely. Around him buzzes a party. Apparently the station’s constabulary is celebrating all its new recruits. Lore is disinterested. Dr. Soong had programmed him with an appreciation of the finer tastes of life, and the way Romulan ale interacts with his organic mesh is pleasing to him. When he is disguised like Data he likes to think like him--not, of course, because he particularly admires the logical turns of his android mind, or because he misses feeling close to him. It’s method acting, as the Earth actors of the 21st century would claim. He swirls the bright blue beer in the snifter, enjoying the sensation of falling into an electric cloud, and ignores the chatter around him. A vedek slides down next to him and signals to Quark to bring him his usual. His robes and hat are arranged to hide his face. Lore is slightly curious, but not enough to move to another table. He will leave soon--the freighter meant for the Bajoran colony on the other side of the wormhole is set to depart in two hours, with him and his grand plans with it. Dr. Soong might think his brother his greatest creation, but what Lore will wreak will be the best yet. Then a man says, “Commander Data! It’s good to see you.” He curls his fingers around Lore’s shoulder and Lore turns mechanically to regard him, cursing to himself. He fixes his face in Data’s blank stare. “Yes,” he says. He does not recognize the man in the Starfleet doctor’s uniform, but clearly Data would. The doctor smiles warmly. “Oh, Romulan ale,” he says. He slides onto the stool next him. “I suppose you’re running some sort of experiment.” He looks at him expectantly, still inanely grinning, and Lore rapidly thinks of an excuse. The doctor keeps staring at his feet. Why the fuck is he staring at his feet? He opens his mind and suddenly the circuits of his perfect positronic brain fizzled, and panicked at the malfunction Lore tries to get up as the Ferengi bartender says in an echoing voice, THE MACHINE. The doctor, slackjawed, says, THE MACHINE HAS ANSWERED THE CALL. Lore starts in horror as the words echo in his  mind and almost falls off his perch. The Bajoran security officer behind him is suddenly in front of him, and he blinks, because Romulan ale is hypnotic, not hallucinogenic, this should not be happening, not when he set his organic processing system to separate out the suggestic effect-- THE MACHINE WILL KNOW, the Bajoran security officer intones. FOR THE SISKO THE MACHINE WILL KNOW. BAJOR IS OF THE PROPHETS, the Ferengi says: Quark. THE MACHINE WILL KNOW. The doctor says, THE MACHINE WILL KEEP BAJOR FOR THE PROPHETS. Lore says, “What the fuck is this?” His brain buzzes, he seizes again, and his vision goes dark as his body prioritizes life support over data processing systems.

Lore wakes up to the doctor and several security officers hovering over him anxiously, prone on the sticky floor of Quark’s bar, with the changeling constable barking orders to evacuate the place. He grabs the doctor. “What’s happening?” “There’s been a murder,” he says. “You’ve been poisoned too--Lore.” Lore spasms hard and collapses again to the ground, his eyes filling with a bright white light. When he wakes up, he is splayed on a biobed, despite his obvious synthetic parts. He tries to move, but finds himself stuck in a containment field: just his luck. His eyes swivel over to the controllers, where that doctor and a Trill regard him cautiously. The Trill straddles a chair, leaning on the headrest. Lore knows far too much of human biology and understands she would be considered quite attractive. The lankiness of the doctor is more his type, however, more easily manipulated, and while she looks at him warily the doctor has open curiosity on his face. Lore can use that. “Lore, I presume,” the doctor says. “Data’s...brother.” Lore twitches in annoyance. He was the better creation, he suffered more, he survived more--why does he always have to be defined by Data? They are nothing alike. They share the same neuro-synthetic make-up. That is it. “Dr. Soong’s murderer,” the Trill adds solemnly. She places her hand on the phaser at her belt. The doctor looks at her curiously. “An old drinking buddy of Curzon’s.” Lore sniffs. His father spent more time running about the galaxy than with him, and perhaps he wouldn’t have ended up so broken--perfect, he corrects himself, determined and justified and perfect--if Dr. Soong had bothered to stay with him, rather than plugging him into the computer. “Dax,” Lore says. “Can’t say he ever mentioned you.” He is lying, of course, but that’s his right. “And I’m Bashir,” the doctor says. “Dr. Julian Bashir.” Dax rolls her eyes at him, a private joke. Lore feels a flash of envy. He wants to know everything, even the private things. Dax touches her combage while Bashir continues, “You gave us quite a surprise, Lore. We’d been given an alert that you might be heading to the Gamma Quadrant, but we didn’t think you’d show up at Quark’s bar! The Romulan ale--how did it interact with your positronic brain? I don’t think that’s what caused you to black out, but--” “Do you mind?” Lore interrupts. “Are you arresting me or experimenting on me?” He tests the biobed’s confinements again. Dax points her phaser at him. Lore chuckles. “Really, Dax? May I call you Dax? What can I even do to you from here?” The door to the medbay opens and the goo constable and station captain walk in, phasers drawn: Odo, and Cpt. Benjamin Sisko, according to the database he hacked before piloting to the station. “Well, well,” Odo says, “a fugitive. And one who crashed a party of cops, while drinking illegally-imported ale. You can’t make this up.” Lore is a bit embarrassed. “It’s only illegal to Starfleet personnel,” he snarks. “And I am not my brother.” Odo snorts in response. Sisko eyes him, amused, then turns to Lore. “When you were...incapacitated,” he doesn’t want to use the word unconscious for a machine, “you muttered something about a vision. Explain.” “Oh,” Lore says, “we’ve decided on a genre. So now this is an interrogation, not an experiment.” “We can still vivisect you,” Odo says. “No, we can’t,” Bashir says testily. Sisko raises his hands slightly, to quiet them all down. They all look at him. Dax has not dropped her phaser, not once. Lore decides it’s in his best interests to cooperate. “If you must know,” he says, “I don’t know what happened either. I was just biding my time til I could head through the wormhole, where my vision went--blurry, and everyone started speaking as if they were..echoing within the circuits of my mind. They called me the ‘Machine’--they said I will know that Bajor is the Prophets--your wormhole aliens, aren’t they?” Sisko blinks slowly like a snake, taking him in. Lore keeps his gaze steady. He feels if he makes any sudden movements, Sisko will strike, precise and deadly. He is even more carefully controlled than Picard, and smoother. Lore can’t help but admire it. Then Sisko blinks. He stares into the distance, and suddenly shakes his head and refocuses. “Fascinating,” Sisko purrs. “A vedek is murdered while the Prophets tell you to keep Bajor theirs. A likely story. A likeable one.” “Noonian was always a charmer,” Dax says. “Well, he knew how to get you off his back.” Is that a hint of bitterness Lore detects? History he will never know: Dr. Soong burned his diaries when he realized Lore knew his code. “Since you claim the Prophets want to use you,” Sisko says, “let us see what use the Prophets have for you. Odo, Bashir--let him out of his clamps. You may investigate the vedek’s murder. Chief O’Brien has programmed the station’s database to keep you well restrained within its borders. Odo, Dr. Bashir--I want you two to use him. Find what poison they used, cross-reference whatever Starfleet database Lore has compiled--and find who did it.” “And then what?” Lore asks. Sisko smiles. “And then,” he says, “the Prophets will know what to do to you.”

They release him from his clamps but keep the containment field but in the medbay. Dax and Sisko leave, Dax never letting her back be exposed, and Bashir clears his throat when the door clicks shut. He begins to explain the poison--a distillation of expired moba fruit cut with smoke, a popular amphetamine amongst the former Bajoran resistance. Odo nods along thoughtfully but Lore is bored. It is clear this has to do with some petty regional squabble. One faction wanted another out, and Bajor’s resident would-be gods decided to intervene. It is odd that they have made him their tool, but Lore cannot blame them. He is brilliant, after all, and has a good reputation amongst the more eldritch species of the galaxy. The Q Continuum and the Crystalline Entity gave him rave reviews. When Bashir is finally done, Lore speaks before Odo can reform vocal cords. “So. What priesthood and caste is he? Have you done your report?” He raises an eyebrow at Odo. “No, of course not. Well, plug me in. Give me his name and twelve seconds and I can tell you everything about him, including what he ate for dinner last night.” Bashir looks at him wryly, rapping his PADD with knuckles. “Simple fare--he is part of the late Vedek Bareil’s order. Rice and a touch of salt. The drink was a surprise.” Lore is confused. He doesn’t know what he is talking about. Odo crosses his arms and smiles thinly. “ Also Romulan ale, which a simple vedek could not afford, let along drink in public. A vintage Quark was told to lay aside, by a certain Tahna Los a few years ago.” Lore is irritated. “If you’re going to withhold information, I’m going to complain to the captain. He wants me here for a reason. You may as well use my processing capabilities, or be done with me now, and hand me over to Starfleet.” Bashir and Odo exchange a glance, and Odo scoffs. “Believe me,” he says, “there is nothing I would like more. But the captain is as good as his word. We are going to see what the wormhole aliens want with you. And then we’ll hand you over to Starfleet.” “So glad I’ve excited such intellectual curiosity in you,” Lore snorts. “Put please--give me the information and let’s be done with it. I don’t like being used, you know. I want to know what they’re doing with me as much as you do.” Odo regards him. “Hm. You do know Captain Sisko drove the Q Continuum off the station, right? We don’t...tolerate horrors coming out of space at Deep Space Nine. And every starbase has been outfitted with the graviton resonance to shatter one of those crystal creatures.” “Right,” Lore says. “Because there’s only room for one ‘horror out of space’ on this station.” Bashir coughs a laugh into his hand, and coughs harder at the look Odo gives him. Proverbial dick-measuring done, the three set to work. Odo accesses the constabulary's databases from Bashir’s desk, and after carefully adjusting the security parameters, allows Lore to begin analysis of his files regarding Tahna Los, the unfortunate vedek, Bareil’s order, and Bajoran religious factionalism. Lore could easily hack into the rest of the databases, and he zips the files and stores them to chew over when he’s finally out of the Alpha Quadrant. He blinks rapidly as he realizes that this vedek and Tahna Los share an arrest record. Both were taken into custody by Cardassian nine years ago, with two people who work with station security. He says aloud, for the fleshier folk in the room, “Kira Nerys, Tahna Los, our unfortunate vedek, and one of your very own officers were arrested together, Constable. Perhaps you should screen your recruits more thoroughly.” He mimics Data in his deadpan delivery. Odo is unamused. Everyone’s a critic. “That doesn’t mean anything,” Odo says. “Kira shares an arrest record with half of Bajor. And most of my officers were...detained by Cardassians, at one time or another.” He looks a little uncomfortable. Collaboration always is--he arrested a few of them. Lore smiles slowly. He has learned many useful things from these files, more than the constable will ever know. “So let’s talk to Kira,” Bashir says eagerly.

They ping Kira, and Lore has to admit he’s curious as to what she’s going to say. She is fascinating. It takes a certain kind of person to go from terrorism to Starfleet-adjacent bureaucracy, and Lore wants to know exactly what that is. He knows he could do it, he has taken his survival matrix and run with it, and of course that is why the Prophets chose him for whatever little mission they have. It’s flattering to be in the center of the storm. It is exactly what he deserves, and he is curious to see what this kindred spirit is like. Major Kira glances at him curiously but without the hostility that characterized Dax or the interest Bashir showed. She looks tired. The vedek must’ve been a friend of hers, or at least a comrade. Lore doesn’t understand that relationship, nothing he has read or experienced has explained friendship beyond desire, but he knows she must feel upset. If only he cared. “Yes?” Kira says guardedly. “You called?” She glances at the body on the table, bites her lip, and looks away. “You don’t think it was the Cardassians, do you? I need an answer to give the provisional government. And if Bareil’s order, of all things, has been infiltrated, we need to start preparing. I’ve lost enough of my comrades to them.” Odo and Bashir exchange a glance, concerned. Lore, again, does not care--but he registers this is a vulnerability he can exploit. Bashir says slowly, “He was poisoned, Major. With a drink that Tahna Los sent him. And the only connection he has to Tahna Los is--well, you.” Kira regards the body. “The Kohn-Ma has long been disbanded. And Tahna Los is held at a monastery in the Rakantha monastery, being rehabilitated for civilian life. He wouldn’t have had access to even a data PADD. It’s the Shakaar cell who guards them, and they’re no friend to the Kohn-Ma. Not anymore.” “You’ve said that before,” Odo says. “And you were wrong.” “Are you accusing me of lying?” “No. Just that your sources might be.” Kira glares at the constable, and Bashir makes a face at Lore. Lore raises an eyebrow. Bashir hides a smile. “Gentlemen,” Bashir interrupts. He gestures at the body. “If we may get back to the matter at hand.” “Sometime before it finishes decomposing,” Lore drawls. Bashir’s mouth twitches into a smile. “Quite. Now, we know the Prophets are worried about a threat to their connection to Bajor--the wormhole, presumably, we’ve been through this before. We have a dead body, killed by a drink sent by a known member of the Kohn-Ma--separatists. And we know this man was not , but a member of the late Vedek Bareil’s secularist order. Now, I’ll willing to bank on the hunch that Tahna Los was framed--but the question is, does this represent a Kohn-Ma resurgence? Who killed him, and why?” Lore says, “Two of your new recruits were arrested with Tahna Los and this...unfortunate.” He regards the corpse with some distaste. At least he will never truly die. Odo straightens abruptly. “I vetted those men myself--” and then the station shakes, and while Lore simply adjusts the mechanical gravitational sense of his body, the fleshier ones stumble. Odo’s combadge chimes. He presses it. Lore cocks his head, curious. Does he pin it to his flesh? Does a changeling have flesh? Can he feel? Sisko’s voice rings out. “Constable, you’d better get to Ops. Bring Lore. A bomb went off in my office.”

In Sisko’s office, one of Odo’s new recruits is running a tricorder over the explosive powder left over from the bomb. Papers are strewn everywhere, and the desk is in splinters. Sisko turns from the window as the wormhole opens and frowns when he sees them, palming a baseball. Lore quickly analyzes the new recruit’s face: it’s one of them that was arrested with the homicide victim and Tahna Los himself. He smiles quietly to himself. Their security is truly incompetent, if they let any old Bajoran resistance fighter in. It’s embarrassing they caught him at all. Then again, it’s hard to disguise himself when he has his brother’s face. He scowls to himself, annoyed. He came first: when his brother took his face. Sisko nods at Odo, who quietly sets a containment field behind him. Lore realizes they know. Perhaps they are cleverer than they look. Even a stopped clock hits on something right twice a day--something Dr. Soong would tell him. Sisko says, “Report.” Odo cannot hide his own smugness. “We have reason to believe,” he says stiffly. Lore quirks his head. Fascinating how even a shapeshifter cannot keep his emotions from working its way to his face: expression truly is a learned behavior, Lore thinks. Odo continues, “We have reason to believe that we have been infiltrated by rogue members of the Kohn-Ma sect, who are striking against resistance fighters who have taken a more moderate position since Bajor’s liberation.” Behind Odo, Bashir puts his hand on his phaser. Lore is amused to see that it is set to stun. The recruit stiffens, but continues to analyze the bomb sample. His hands are shaking. “Really?” Sisko says. “A threat that concerns even the Prophets, who don’t want their connection to Bajor severed. I suppose that makes sense. Recruit, do you have anything to say?” The recruit turns slowly. “Is there any point?” he says. “When even the Prophets are against you.” Sisko says gently, “Not against you. For Bajor. By any means necessary.” He looks at Lore. “Even using a machine.” Sisko nods at Odo, who puts his hand on the recruit’s shoulder and helps him up. He leads him from Sisko’s office and into the turbolift, solemn-faced. “What will happen to him?” Bashir asks. Sisko sighs. “He killed a vedek. You’re better off asking the Major about the limits of Bajoran jurisprudence when it comes to old comrades. But doubtless he will not be getting the same treatment as Tahna Los. And we will need to monitor where he is sent, to make sure the monastery is not being used as a hotbed of radicalization.” Bashir frowns. Sisko turns to Lore. “And now for you, our resident fugitive.” He smiles thinly, and Lore steps back. The containment field is still up. He realizes he’s been tricked--it was not just for the bomber, but for him as well. With newfound respect, he gazes steadily at Sisko. This team is nothing like Data’s crew. They are much, much trickier. “Oh, I hope I won’t be staying long enough to be a resident ,” Lore says, trying to play it cool. “There’s a whole galaxy to see, on the other side of the wormhole. And, well, the Prophets have taken an interest in me. Why don’t you toss me at the Dominion and see what happens?” Sisko is unamused but Bashir snorts. “No,” Sisko says, “I think not. You see, I was sent a top-secret message by Starfleet Command an hour ago--alpha alpha black gamma clearance. A certain secretive department wants you, Lore.” “Section 31,” Bashir says out loud. Lore is unmoved. He has never heard of them. Sisko continues, “And I don’t want them to have you. If you’re so despicable to make an alliance with the Borg,” his eyes flash, and Lore is chilled, “then I don’t want to see what Section 31 will twist you into. I believe in the Federation.” Those words sound hollow, even to Lore. “I believe in Bajor, and I trust the Prophets. I’m sending you through the wormhole, Lore. For the Federation’s good and the good of Bajor. Right to the colonies on New Bajor, where the electromagnetic net in the atmosphere is set to make androids such as yourself move a bit more slowly. And certainly too slowly to be successful in any escape attempt. May this time in contemplation be good for you, Lore. And better than the Borg.” He smiles grimly, and turns away from them to regard the wormhole once more. “Dismissed.”

Lore is terrified. Bashir stings him with a hypospray that makes his movement malleable and leads him into the turbolift and towards the docks. He tries to work his mouth, but nothing comes out. Bashir himself is stony-faced. He doesn’t approve, but he follows orders. Lore curses himself, he should have realized that Captain Sisko of all people is not to be trifled with, the man lost his wife to the Borg, of course he wouldn’t be able to work out a deal. He’s heard so many stories of people who have managed to bargain with the station’s crew, he thought that he out of all people would be able to come up with a deal. The turbolift stops and the doors chime open, and Bashir pushes him forward gently, hand at his neck, another prodding a phaser into his back. Lore wonders if it is set to kill. He stammers, “D-don’t--” as they march to the runabout. Bashir opens the door and regards him sadly. “You are magnificent, do you know that?” he says. “A truly human android. Even more than your brother. Fully flawed, emotive, angry. So you deserve a chance.” He walks him into the cabin and straps him into the pilot’s chair of the runabout. “I hope you take this one. It’ll be the last you get, but who’s to say it’s better than you deserve?” Bashir turns the runabout on and activates the autopilot. “Good luck, Lore. And godspeed. I hope you find what you need on New Bajor. Slowing down a fast-paced mind--” He exhales sharply. “Well.” He smiles. “I was genetically augmented, you know. Using a procedure based on Dr. Soong’s experiments. So I think I understand a bit how your mind works, and how it can go--not wrong, but how it is hard. Perhaps this will be good for you.” He pats him on the shoulder. “It’s better than Section 31, at least. Good luck.” The runabout leaves and Lore is left in the lurch as the stars spin away and the wormhole opens to swallow him, leaving the Alpha Quadrant far behind, and he cannot move as his mind slows in the odd electric silence. He wishes, he wishes, he wishes--and then time slows and he can only contemplate as a spectre taking the shape of his father looks at him and says, THE MACHINE IS OF BAJOR. THE MACHINE KNOWS.