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dadsbongos · 1 month

Text

cycle & jerk

5k words / warnings - pinv sex (unprotected, creampies), breeding kink, light choking, hair pulling, chilchuck's a mean dirty old man, heat cycle, i haven't written in awhile so like. idk don't execute me if this isn't a slay

summary - you are a rat-half foot-hybrid mix, king of the junjile but still social and fierce, and you go into heat and chilchuck can smell it (ew) and he's the only one that can help

~~~

Huffy panting causes Chilchuck to stir in his bedroll. A whine muffled into thin fluff, then the gentle drag of scratchy blankets catching on clothes as a lump grows more apparent beside him. Shyly, a hand wanders from clutching his arm to petting down his chest -- pausing at his belt and scrunching his shirt with a hearty groan. He watches quietly, heart thumping into his chest because he’s just not sure how to breach this.

Stupidly he’d assumed he still had more time. Looking back, he’s genuinely unsure as to why he ever thought that. The signs were there that tonight was his culling, weren’t they? He should’ve been more prepared.

four days prior.

Despite only servicing a single party in your entire adventuring career (and only wanting the one), you have a very strict set of dates in which you’re unavailable for work. Yet this month, regardless of his numerous efforts, your party leader has kept you in the dungeon past expiration.

“I told you I needed out of here before today, didn’t I?”

“You did…”

“And where am I?”

“Still here…”

To his credit, Laios appears earnestly ashamed -- hands folded in his lap and head bent to avoid looking you in the eye. He murmurs soft apologies, even as your attention is called across the room by Marcille.

“Take it easy,” she coos, which only infuriates you further, “What’s so important that you have to be so mad, anyway?”

“It’s basic decency,” you throw an arm out at your side, gesturing to your fellow half-foot on the right, “Chilchuck, back me up!”

“She’s right,” Chilchuck shrugs, “Although it sounds unfair to put all the blame on Laios.”

“I can’t leave before we’re done here,” you grumble, swiveling to face him fully (Laios sighs in gratitude that your wrath has been directed elsewhere), “I don’t get paid upfront, you know?”

“Huh, wonder if there was some way you could’ve fixed that.”

“I only work with Laios, why would I need to join a union?”

“Scab,” he coughs, far more teasing than of genuine frustration.

“Maybe we could help get you back to the surface if you told us what the problem was!” Marcille rolls around onto her hands, eyes wide in curiosity, “C’mon, share! Light a fire under us!”

“It’s embarrassing,” you scooch closer to Chilchuck before sagging against the wall, joining him on the ground. You fail to notice when he flinches at your proximity, “My business is my own.”

“Best leave it alone,” Senshi agrees, “We’ll just have to stay outta your way ‘til we’re done here.”

“Well, don’t avoid me,” you continue to scoff, watching as Izutsumi rustles along Chilchuck’s lap just to bat at your rounded ears with both paws, “Izutsumi, don’t touch those.”

She hisses quietly, only diverting her attention so far as your tail sandwiched between yours and Chilchuck’s thighs. You allow her to malleate the flesh, only because she makes no off-hand comments about how strangely cool the skin is (just the memory makes you glare over at Laios again, who cowardly shrinks back).

“You’re irritable today,” Chilchuck glances at you warily, tone equally cautious.

“And?”

His back slides down the wall until he’s nestled fully into his bedroll and turned away from you onto his side, “Nothing.”

Izutsumi hums quietly, head plopping into your lap, you two exchange confused glances before collectively deciding to let his sudden retirement go.

Since that night, Chilchuck has been avoiding you. You’re certain.

Initially, you’d attempted to rationalize it as a sense of hysteria, that you were simply hyper aware of his presence after the incident shared with Izutsumi. Until more incidents began compiling atop each other, and you were unable to pass them as individual misunderstandings.

Such as that next morning.

“Oh, you getting water?” Chilchuck rose from his slump against the far wall, gaze honed on Laios.

Your leader nods before thumbing towards you, “Yep. Found a small fountain across the hall. Wanna come?”

Chilchuck looks at you, blinking stupidly, before shaking his head, “I’ll probably wait until we set camp again.”

Then there was lunchtime.

“You’re so far away…” Marcille whines, stretching her arm out as if to manhandle Chilchuck back towards the rest of your party.

“There’s no room over there.”

Everyone stares at him for that, Izutsumi curling into your side protectively while Laios points down at the gaping space between you and Senshi with his plate. He grins, full of heart and goodwill, “There’s room right there, Chil’.”

“Oh,” Chilchuck’s shoulders slack, body unenthusiastically scooting across the floor until he’s awkwardly inserted beside you. Noticeably closer to Senshi than you, chuckling distantly and gazing solely into his food, “Duh. Didn’t notice that.”

Izutsumi smacks her lips in a rush to swallow her bite before contradicting, “You were staring at that spot for five minutes.”

“Thought you were gonna take it,” he recovers quickly, then promptly shutting his mouth the rest of lunch.

And the next day.

Anytime you spoke, he’d find an exit from the conversation. He’d conveniently need to speak with Laios, or Marcille, or Izutsumi, or Senshi whenever you approached. Not to mention how glaringly obvious the physical space between you was, whereas he usually traveled towards the middle of the pack with you he’s now suddenly braving the front alongside Laios.

Each effort on your part to shut down tension was swiftly dodged, only managing to thicken the strain between you.

Until that night:

“I’m heading for the bathroom,” Chilchuck rises from his bedroll with a yawn.

“Want me to go with?” Laios offers.

“No,” but his kindness is wasted on Chilchuck, who grimaces at the thought of pissing with a silently listening Laios.

Laios frowns over at you, “But it’s dark out there, I would’ve kept him safe.”

“He’ll live,” you retort, frustration with the lockpick boiling over into an eye roll.

You feel a lithe finger dig into your thigh, finding Marcille turned onto her tummy in her blanket, “You could go confront him now. He’ll have no excuses with nobody else around.”

Figures someone as invasive as Marcille is so invested in yours and Chilchuck’s recent friction.

“Yeah, I’ll just go up behind him while he’s peeing. Great idea.”

“Scare him into submission,” Izutsumi adds, though betraying you by selfishly occupying Chilchuck’s mat across the room. She snuggles into the warmth he’s left behind, yawning loudly -- looking about three seconds from drifting into slumber.

“There’s ale stocks along the way,” Senshi now joins the conversation, and is arguably the most helpful, “Some of ‘em bound to be full. He won’t turn down a drink.”

“Huh,” you tease the idea further. Even if by some uncharacteristic possession, Chilchuck does refuse the offer of alcohol, you can always beat him with the bottle. Knock him out to tie down and force out answers once he’s awake, “That could work…”

You replay that very thought process in your head as you await for Chilchuck to wander back down the hall. You passed as far as the corridor after the ale shelves before realizing how strange lingering outside the bathroom is, then deciding to sit with your back to the wall. Not long now, Chilchuck will be right in front of you.

He won’t jump back in shock, either. He’s heard you walking, you know he did because you heard him pause, sigh, and continue at a much, much slower pace. You’d almost be swooning over how he could discern it was you by your walk, if only there wasn’t such a vexing reason for you to be out here.

At least you have the advantage, your superior rodent vision can make him out in the pitch dark, meanwhile he’s relying on estimation as to where you are. If you wanted, you could probably just throw the ale at his head and get the knocking-him-unconscious bit over with.

“Okay,” he sighs again, louder, arms folded across his chest, “What?”

“Me what? How about you what?”

Chilchuck leans his head away from you, as if he can’t so much as stand to look at you, “What’re you talking about?”

“Just sit,” when he makes no such move, you lift one bottle in your hand, swirling the dark liquid inside, “I brought a bribe just to be nice, don’t let it go to waste.”

“Where’d you get that?” his curiosity blocks out his better instinct, sitting at your side to snatch up the bottle. You can see the instant he regrets it -- his nose wrinkles up and he swallows harshly, “Okay, what do you want?”

You ‘hpmh’ at his testy tone, letting him stew in the unpleasant silence before he’s uncorking the bottle and taking his first gulp. His nonchalance is more irritating than his avoidance; now he wants to insist you’re the weird one when he was dodging you as some toxic, erratic creature. Rage spurs you to your feet, swinging around to stand directly in front of him.

“You’re avoiding me, I know you are!” in retrospect, you will be glad you’re so far from the party so you two can yell without disturbing them.

“I am not!”

“Stop being defensive, just tell me what’s wrong so I can fix it!”

“I can’t,” Chilchuck grinds the heels of his palms into his eyes, face blooming red. That tangy aroma usually hidden until it was right under his nose, flooding his mouth. It was now overpowering your usual scent, and he assumes the only reason you’re so oblivious is because your own advanced smelling has grown blind to it, “It’s nothing you can fix. I’m just cursed with heightened senses.”

“Huh?”

“Huh?!” you stumble back, arms curling around your stomach, “No way! You can…”

Oh, God.

“Yep.”

Oh, God, no.

“Gross!”

Chilchuck shrugs, tilting the ale against his lips and murmuring into tinted glass, “Usually it's only the bloody part we can pick up on, but uh,” he sips the bitter liquid, clearly hesitant to finish his thought until your curious hum encourages him, “I guess beastkin are more… potent…”

“Ew!”

“I didn’t want to finish saying it!”

“But you did,” you gag, “You’re a pervert, phrasing it all nasty like that.”

“What? Would you rather me say it how Laios would?”

“Don’t even joke about that,” you go rigid suddenly, heart seizing at the mention of Laios, “He can’t find out about this.”

“Agreed, it’d be disgusting to hear him ask all those personal questions.”

“So,” you emphasize, clasping your hands nervously, “I need to get it taken care of before I become a problem.”

Chilchuck freezes. Eyes drifting slowly from his bottle to your pinched face, “No.”

“What?”

“No. Ask Senshi or Marcille -- hell! Knock out two problems in one swoop and have Laios help! He’ll leave you alone for the rest of your life if he can get all his questions out now.”

“I wasn’t saying that,” you totally were, and you should’ve known better due to his aversion to interpersonal party-relationships, “Just, I dunno, keep me away from the others.”

“Why me?” he groans.

“You’re the only one who knows…”

“What about Izutsumi? Can’t she be your guard?”

“No! I wanna preserve my positive image in her mind as long as I can.”

Chilchuck scowls, polishing off the bottle with a loud gulp and rolling the neck between his hands, “Guess this is why we never saw you around this time.”

“Uh-huh…”

“And you’re gonna be miserable down here until it's over.”

“Uh-huh.”

“And it’ll only be worse once you actually go into heat.”

“I know, Chilchuck, I’m thirty -- I know how my own heats work.”

You watch confirmed and suspected information sink in for him: Chilchuck was surprised to meet you upon joining the party, as far as he’d heard from whispered tales beastmen looked human most of their lives. Yet you’ve got large, circular ears with a light layer of fur, a pudgy button nose that twitches, and a fleshy tail unfurling to your ankles. You store fat easier than any other half-foot he’s ever met, your legs are stronger and faster than any other half-foot, too.

As terrible as it sounds out of context, your body fascinates him. Not to liken himself to Laios, but well… Ideally this could be his perfect excuse to fully explore, he could have so many questions answered.

Are there humanoid ears hidden behind your hair? Does the peach fuzz on your tail match what courses over your thighs and arms? Has the strength of a rat’s jaw proportionally stretched to your own, like with your legs? Is your whole body warm like a humanoid or cool like your tail? Do you only leave every other month because your rat heat is worse than your human ovulation?

Would having sex with you be like with any other half-foot, or would you be a completely new experience?

Have your strange circumstances forced you into a romantic stasis, making you vulnerable and sensitive to his experienced hands?

If he refuses you now, would you take the bait and ask Laios for help instead?

“Laios seriously doesn’t know about this? At all?”

“I’m sure he knows menstruation exists,” and by proxy ovulation, “but no, I haven’t mentioned my heat.”

“I would’ve thought he’d constantly ask about your… anatomy…”

“Honestly, I think it’s why he approached me to join his party, but I told him off after the first weird question,” you laugh quietly at the memory, “Funny enough, he didn’t seem weird. Most men that approached me were dogs, so meeting him was a relief. Never wanted to work for someone else after our first dive together.”

Chilchuck nods slowly, smoothing the pad of his thumb across the emptied bottle and staring into his dark, murky reflection, “You’ve been in the party longest. You gotta be fond of the guy by now.”

No, he corrects, judging by how you phrased it -- you’ve always been fond of him.

“I guess…” you shrug, “but I’m not fond fond,” you cross your arms defensively, humiliated chills racing up your arms at his unspoken rejection, “I could be, if you’re so adverse. It doesn’t have to be you, Chilchuck. Sorry for asking something so intimate.”

Chilchuck lays the bottle down, shaking his head as he stands, “Don’t ask that dolt. I’ll help.”

“Really?”

More questions infiltrate his mind, unwelcomed as they are interesting.

Do you squeal or huff when you cum? Are you the type to leave scratches? Do you bite (and thus, back to the jaw strength thing)? Would you let him yank your hair? Your tail? Both?

“Thanks, Chilchuck,” you feel the inexplicable need to whisper your appreciation, as if raising your voice could somehow rouse his testy attitude and result in backtracking.

“You should call me Chil.”

“Huh?”

“It’d be awkward to hear my whole name during sex. That’s about as close as people can get, right?”

“Oh!” you’re taken aback. You thought he was against that, though clearly…

His face is flushed (however his decisive speech and sturdy stance negate any intoxication allegations), and you can almost make out the thump of his heartbeat in the filling silence. Or maybe that part is your imagination. Maybe you’re hoping his heart is racing as fast as yours.

“When would be best?” he clears his throat, pulling at the collar of his shirt as though it's choking him, “Now?”

“No!” you cry, mostly out of shock he’s that willing, “No, it wouldn’t do anything now since I’m not… you know. Yet. We’ll have to wait.”

“How long?”

“Not sure. This is why I like to be at home during.”

“I get it,” he runs a hand down the length of his face, hissing quietly in exasperation, “I hate playing these things by ear.”

“‘These things’?” you chuckle as Chilchuck’s face goes red at the implication, he storms past you praying you drop his slip-up, “You do this kind of thing often?”

“Shut up.”

“So, you’re just the guy to go to, then! I should come to you every other month!”

“Shut up!”

…

“Glad to see you two made up,” Marcille’s cheery tone is the first to rake through the room next morning, “Though…”

You’re practically draped over Chilchuck’s back, already feeling your body temperature climbing unnaturally. He’s patting your sweltering cheek sympathetically, allowing you to burrow your face into the bend of his neck. And you’re pressing your chest obnoxiously into his back.

“You’re a bit close,” she teases in a quiet giggle.

Chilchuck rolls his eyes, biting back any replies to avoid unintentionally spilling your secret.

He turns, lips brushing your temple as he whispers to you, “How’re you doing? I could probably lie to Laios and- “

“No,” you whine, embarrassment evident in how you curl your arms tighter around his waist and shuffle closer, “I can’t right now, that’s so… weird.”

“Sure, that would be weird.”

That night, both you and Chilchuck jammed into an off-room from the rest of your party. You two having made the escape after everyone else fell asleep to avoid questions about why you were separating yourselves.

He chooses not to comment on how you strip down to only your panties before falling asleep.

…

While he’s internally debating the ethics of chickening out on his promise to you, you’re suffering. Bad.

Sweat clings along the back of your neck and all down your molten face. Worse than that heat, is the one between your thighs. You’ve been duly rubbing at yourself through your panties for the better half of eternity, earnestly hoping to deal with this yourself rather than following through with using Chilchuck. That in itself is proof you’re barely in your right mind, masturbating has never worked before -- obviously it won’t now.

All it succeeds in is making you wetter and messier.

A little physical stimulation, you reason, can’t be bad. So you faintly trail a hand over Chilchuck’s soft stomach, pausing before his crotch and feeling your chest pound at the thought:

Below his navel is his penis.

Then there’s the next thought:

His penis should be inside you.

You moan quietly, eyes clenched shut and cheek smushing into your bedroll. Were you not preoccupied with the broiling in your stomach, you’d probably be feeling the ache in your knees holding up your weight. Your back arched and rear presented for mounting.

Just as you’re delirious enough with desperation to shake Chilchuck awake, he’s turning onto his side and carding stray hairs from your damp face. Fire licks up his fingertips and he frowns, “You’re warm.”

“Chil,” relief fills you at his voice, something else filling the seat of your underwear. The hand on his tummy winds up to the collar of his shirt, you fumble with the top button, “Chil, can you- ? Please, I feel so fucking hot, Chil. I need you.”

Chilchuck casts the others a brief glance through the door before pushing up onto his elbows, one hand joining yours between your legs. He swallows harshly at the warmth, slithering beneath the waistband of your panties to skim his fingertips directly along your pussy. You push back into his hand with a mewl, near the point of gasping for breath at the new sensation of a man’s fingers pressing inside you.

“Slipped right in,” he muses, tilting his head to be level with yours, “So wet and ready, you should’ve woken me up before. Could’ve saved you the embarrassment.”

Anything impactful like words and vowels is slurred as you rock into Chilchuck’s hand, bottom lip tugged between your teeth. The pads of his fingers dive towards the pouch of your stomach, curling in search of one specific spot.

You gasp sharply and buck back, unabashedly and with no care if it catches bleary eyes from the other room, making him sure he’s found it. His other hand juts out to press up on your tummy, only aiding the pressure of his fingers inside you.

“Not- uh! - not gonna finish like this, Chil,” you whine pathetically, batting your lashes at him wetly.

“Who said anything about that?” he slips his fingers out of you, then swishing the soaked digits around your clit just to hear you try, and fail, to muffle a squeal into your pillow, “Finish: like it's a job. I’m trying to watch you squirm like the bitch in heat you are.”

You hadn’t assumed he was the type, given his opposition to being personal. His consistent, almost annoyingly thorough, separation of business and pleasure. This (apparently incorrect) observation stems from how you also hadn’t assumed he was the type to be curious about you.

Chilchuck teases your slit to watch if you'll try smothering more moans by biting your mat. He inches his face to yours, listening for pinched curses and wails. Eyes trail down your face to your chest, studying the way it pillows against the bedroll. He feels every part the creep he accused Laios of being.

“You're so sensitive,” he notes, shuffling onto his knees behind you, shoving his pants midway down his thighs, “What? Not used to this?”

You swat at him in protest, though still humping pathetically. Every twitch and moan is based on pure instinct, you’ve got no clue how to intentionally be sexy -- you’re just praying Chilchuck is too hypnotized by your cunt for your inexperience to be glaringly obvious. Between work and the fetishizing of both your race and curse, a partner has been hard to find: making you a rare half-foot approaching your golden years as a virgin.

Chilchuck lubes the head of his cock with your syrupy wetness before sliding inside, hands playing the fat of your hips. He lets out a low groan, one hand groping from your side up the curve of your ass and along your spine before winding in your hair. His fingers slot around the roots, taking the base of your skull to use as leverage while he fucks you.

He can make out the choked sound of you tempering a moan by sinking your teeth into cushion. You reach back, nails snagging his exposed thigh to anchor him deep inside your wetly clicking cunt. Chilchuck wrangles your back against his chest by your hair, placing his hand over your mouth as a muzzle. Hot breaths fan the soft skin of his palm, skin slapping skin slowly growing louder in a way that should make Chilchuck more careful than it does.

Rather, he speeds up, hand on your hip rounding to circle your sloshed, swollen clit.

“Just shut up and take it,” he grunts, releasing your mouth to seize your throat, until ribbed tissue presses into his palm.

Gagged whimpers and gasps die as sputters in the pit of your chest, Chilchuck biting and sucking your neck to silence his own wanton crowing.

Every glide out of you is met with your violent heat and need sucking him back in. Your head swivels, putty nose rolling against his cheek as you press sloppy kisses along his cheek.

Heeding your frantic, whispered pleas, Chilchuck shifts to return your kisses. Tongue against tongue, hands pulling your bodies into one sticky tangle.

“Gonna let me breed you?” he growls, using his weight over you to suddenly pin you against your bedroll. Your wetness dripping toward the mat, down his wrist, and along his pelvis, “Gonna give me a baby? Make me a daddy?” your ass perks up, tail coiling around his thigh to tether him, he chuckles cruelly down at you, “Yeah, such a good mousy cunt for me. Open and wet, taking my cock.”

“Yes, yes, yes,” you chant, gasping aloud now only for Chilchuck’s hand around your neck to return to your face -- two of his fingers depressing your tongue. Even with the obvious attempt to hush you, you call to him. Garbled, braindead slews of pleas for his cum and begging for (somehow) more attention.

“Is this really all your heat, or are you just such a secret slut?” your whine and clenching stir him up, gooey and compliant and bursting at the seams just for you, “Trying to be all cute, asking for help,” his thrusts quicken when you arch back, hand snatching around his at your clit, “If you wanted to be my cumslut, you could’ve fucking said so.”

You bury your face into your makeshift bed, muffling something in the mat, and Chilchuck yanks your head up by your hair,

“What was that, slut?”

Your thighs are quivering, cunt gushing around him, chest pounding erratically with the need for air, “Just want your cum, Chil!”

Chilchuck stills against you, shuddering and cock heavy in your gut as he cums inside you--

Not that you’re finished yet.

“So good!” you sing, welcoming the reprieve and stubbornly tucking Chilchuck deeper inside you despite him being spent. He throws his head back, eyes rolling in his skull as you continue, “Just a bit more, Chil, please, please, please!”

“Desperate whore,” he slumps forward, biting your shoulder before whirring onto his back, “You do the work now, if you’re so fuckin’ greedy.”

“So mean,” you pout, though the complaint doesn’t deter you from sinking onto his cock like this.

“You’re gonna fuck me asleep,” Chilchuck is courteous enough to languidly snap his hips up into yours, “Needy, desperate bitch.”

For as much as he teases you -- he’s on the brink of tears from overstimulation, voice clipped and throat raw with the need to cry.

“Just one more,” you whine, hands scratching back against his chest, “Gimme one more, please?”

“Fuck,” Chilchuck sucks in a sharp breath, icy tears pricking at the corner of his eyes, “Fine.”

An airy giggle flows through your lips, ditzy and hot and eager.

A few aggravated plaps is enough for Chilchuck to be puffing and shaking, your bounces deteriorate into heedy grinding. Chilchuck winds both arms around your midsection to pull your back against his chest, frustrated tears caking his lashes the longer his abused cock cooks inside you.

“C’mon, babe, you can cum for me. You gotta feel good, too, right?” he’s murmuring in your fluffy ear, flicking your clit with his thumb, “No point in this if you don’t feel good, too.”

His words are not what flips you into euphoria, but rather the sensation of his cum trickling from your swollen cunt -- fucked loose from your incessant jerking on him.

You toss your head back, Chilchuck narrowly avoiding a broken nose by swerving to the side. Loudly thunking together, your clamped knees trap his hand between your thighs -- gurgled cries for breath and his name croak from your hanging mouth.

“Good slut,” he lays sloppy, open-mouthed kisses against your neck, fingers slowing to a pause on your clit, “Best cunt for me.”

“Thank you,” you sigh into the open air, voice all soft and sweet.

Chilchuck laughs at the sound, lulling to the side to spoon you, “You’re way nicer like this. Could get used to it.”

“Don’t ruin this,” you yawn, pinching his wrist.

“Whatever, this better be enough to satisfy you,” he pulls the blanket over your conjoined limbs, too drained to pull up his pants and redress you.

“Hey,” you call, met with a soft groan of acknowledgement, “You know I’m not a mouse, right? I’m a rat.”

“Mhm,” he lazily confirms, “Sounds better than ratty cunt, though. So pick your battles.”

The next morning, a hand is shaking you awake. A soft and polite gesture immediately ruined when you realize the hand is much larger than Chilchuck’s. In a panic, your eyes shoot open to see your cheerful party leader.

“Thanks for going in the other room,” is the first thing out of his mouth, and you want to punch him, “I figure you two would want to get sorted out before everyone else wakes up.”

“Laios…”

“Hm?” his hand is still burning a hole through the sheet on your shoulder.

“Stop touching me.”

“Sorry!” he clutches the offending mitt to his chest, then rising to a stand and waving goodbye, “See you in a bit! Try not to take too long, okay? I have a lot of questions.”

“Get out.”

Unbothered by your mortification, Laios gives a thumbs up and creeps out into the room with the rest of your party.

“We should kill him,” Chilchuck husks into your ear.

“We should.”

“So,” Chilchuck cups the pouch of your tummy, squeezing in a way simultaneously strange and affectionate, “‘s this gonna become a problem?”

“Hm? Oh, no, I think I’m infertile.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. Rat eggs and human eggs don’t actually mix well.”

“Well, it’s a relief I won’t have to raise another kid, I guess. How terrible would that be? I’d be on my deathbed when it gets married.”

…?

???

“Hey, wait,” you roll over in bed, brows furrowed at the man, “Another?”

He nods sluggishly, judgment clouded by both drowsiness and libido, “Three daughters already, so that’d be my fourth,” he cackles at your shocked face, “What? Sex with a coworker you don’t know isn’t panning how you thought?”

“Oh, shut up. I know you, just not your family. Totally different.”

“Definitely. Opposites.”

“So,” Laios swings his head towards Chilchuck, smiling politely, “How many nipples?”

~~~

stupid bonus

“What?” Chilchuck’s eye twitches.

“Sadly, I think it's only two because there’s only two visible mammaries…” the blonde has the gall to sigh at such a thought before suddenly blooming excitement, “Unless there’s more hiding in some kind of wrap! Are there?”

#chilchuck tims x reader #chilchuck x reader #chilchuck smut #chilchuck tims smut #dungeon meshi x reader #dunmeshi x reader #dunmeshi smut

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risuola · 11 months

Text

DO YOU WANT MY FINGERS? — F. READER x GOJO SATORU, who cannot stop twirling the god damn pen

You really needed to rest. You just wanted to sleep the day off, forget about the series of misfortunes and turn off your mind, but Satoru, your classmate just had to practise his pen spinning abilities.

cw: smut, Satoru and reader are students, fingering, Gojo is a menace, as usual, teasing, fingering, reader discretion is advised — 1,9k words

Can he stop?, you wondered, your mind racing like a sports car with the accelerator pushed to the floor, successfully rendering all of your efforts to relax fruitless. So many little things went wrong that day, so many failures that in themselves weren’t even that significant, but once accumulated, they created a tension in your body that you wished you could just sleep off. You hoped for the night to wipe away the concoction of not one, but two missed busses and a long run in the heat of the summer, the curse that was meant to be at most second grade but turned out to be first and exploding in purple goo, the fact that the room that ideally would have two beds, has just one and your infuriating colleague, now bedmate.

Gojo Satoru.

You had no idea what was his point in twirling that goddamn pen in between his fingers. Maybe he wanted to change his career path into becoming a circus artist or maybe he just wanted to annoy you to death – in both he had high chances to succeed. He clearly wanted to make you explode. That for sure was it, because the pen time after time fell from his hands, hitting the wooden floor. You lost count after the twenty sixth failed attempt of whatever the hell he was trying to accomplish, other than driving you completely insane.

Driven by the desire to break his neck, you flipped in the bed and took a quick glance of his form, fully ready and prepared to scold him, but then, your eyes landed on his hand and the voice got caught up inside your throat. Satoru has pretty hands, you always knew that, but somehow never paid them enough attention to notice how incredibly long his fingers are. You found yourself hypnotized by the way his lengthy digits worked all over the pen, twirling and twisting it between them. Skillfully bending and sliding against one another, using all of their slender length to make the movements effective.

Suddenly, you found yourself curious; your mind drifting into forbidden territories of rated thoughts, that you couldn’t, or maybe didn’t want to, push away. As you watched, hypnotized, how Satoru’s fingers were working their way around the pen, you wished to know if he’d be just as skilled using them in other ways? Would he be able to softly pour his magic onto your body, working them through your skin instead of the plastic? And how would they feel inside of you? For sure he’d reach into places you couldn’t yourself, for sure he’d-

“Y/n, my eyes are up here,” his voice snapped you out of your trance. “God, what got you so invested?”

“Nothing,” you muttered, exhaling deeply to ground yourself. “You’re annoying me with this pen, can you stop?”

“I’m trying to destress myself. I have to have my hands occupied- wait, were you looking at my hands?”

“No, Gojo.”

“Are you attracted to my hands?”

“How did you get annoyed and attracted mixed up, huh?”

“Don’t be shy now,” his face brightened with mischief as he grinned, wiggling his digits in the air. “Do you want my fingers?”

“God forbid you lay those on me,” you scoffed, trying to brush him off as you made an attempt to turn away from him, but he quickly rendered it fruitless by grabbing you by the wrist and pinning you down.

“Woops, I guess I just did,” he chuckled; one of his legs between your thighs as his body hovered above yours, making you wonder what the hell was happening. “Might as well go a little further.”

“I will knee you in the nuts if you don’t back off,” you threatened, but once again his chest, and whole body, shook with laughter.

“You can’t do that. Infinity, baby.”

Gojo and his goddamn infinity. A short tsk escaped your mouth, before he placed two of his fingers over them, brushing them ever-so-lightly along your upper lip, then lower and down the chin, painting a little s pattern with his, surprisingly soft, fingertips. His own lips never faltered from the menacing smirk, as his eyes focused on where he was outlining your features.

“So, tell me, where do you want them?” His voice now an octave lower went straight between your legs, you could feel yourself throbbing at the very thought of what he could do to you just by touching. “Here?” He peeled down your bottom lip just slightly, creating an opening for him to slip a fingertip into your mouth. “Nuh-ugh, don’t be mean,” he purred when you made an attempt to bite his digits off – the last signs of your dignity talking, before your body surrendered. “I assume it’s not here. So maybe… here?” With his finger now brushing just slightly over the swell of your breast, teasing the embarrassingly hardened nipple through the thin fabric of your sleeping shirt.

“Gojo-“ you tried to put some warning into your words, but he cut you off quickly.

“I’m not holding you, sweet thing. You have more than enough strength to push me away, we both know this.” He was right, and you hated it. Yes, he was above you, his thigh resting between yours, but other than that, he wasn’t exactly keeping you captive in his grip, because there was no grip whatsoever. Sending mental profanities at your own direction, you failed to notice his hand shifting downwards and you only realized it when your body jolted at the sudden pressure applied over your clothed clit. “Oh, it’s here where you want them, huh?”

To admit was way above your current state of self-respect, so you said nothing, trying to join your legs back together, to hide the wet patch that soaked through the soft, light-blue cotton, but to no avail. The more he stroked his fingers along the outlines of your folds, pressing little circles of tease into the swollen bud, the less control and clarity of mind you had.

“Use your words, will you?”

“G-gojo, please-“, you nearly whined.

“Yeah? Tell me, is that where you want my fingers?”

“Y-yes,” that was the most humiliating thing you’ve ever said, and you were certain that the consequences of it will haunt you for as long as you live, because Satoru was surely never gonna let you live that down, but at this particular moment, you couldn’t care less. You’ll be embarrassed later, now you needed to feel those sinful digits inside.

“Good girl,” he praised, pressing a soft kiss to the side of your jaw. Satoru was full of content, watching you lose your composure piece by piece right before his eyes, and he tried to take mental picture of every stage you went through since he began his teasing torture. From the soft frown that made your brows crease in the middle and your pretty eyes narrowed, sending death stares; through denial – the looks pointed away from him, the delicate tension of every muscle and clenched teeth and the current one – the most adorable flush that spilled over your cheeks and nose, the slightly nervous chew on your lower lip and those same eyes now lost, confused and yet, full of want. What he’s used to see in you was your every day calm, perfect composure and lighthearted approach to life and now, as all of those began to break, taking down the façade of carelessness, Gojo felt the swell of his confidence and ego. And the twitch in his pants.

“There you go,” he nearly whispered, slipping effortlessly into your underwear and the sudden contact of his skin against your aching, throbbing clit made your entire body shiver with anticipation. Satoru shifted his body to your side, placing his own down to be more comfortable, now sure that you won’t push him away. “You’re so wet. So wet and it’s only because of my fingers?”

“S-satoru…”

The grasp you took around his forearm could probably break a bone, but Gojo felt nothing, too consumed by the sweet whimpers that were escaping your lips as he was stroking the letters of his name right into your clit, time after time making your thighs tremble with pleasure. You were so incredibly wet, so worked up that it surprised even you how easily he made you unfold.

You could feel his hot breath fanning over the sensitive skin of your neck, where he was nipping at slowly, murmuring soft praises interlaced with the filthiest of things that could sound so sexy only slipping over Satoru Gojo’s tongue. His skillful fingertips brushed a little lower, gathering your slick and teasing your entrance painfully. You felt yourself clenching around nothing, needy for what his hands have to offer and he was quick to provide. One of his long fingers slipped into you with ease, entering your warm walls and pushing a breathy whimper from your throat. Satoru reached so far, way further than you could ever even try to reach. And then the subtle burn from the stretch came, when the second finger followed; the heel of his palm pressed tightly to your clit. With the way he moved in and out, pushing and pulling at your nerves, curling his digits inside of you and pressing every oversensitive button along his way – all of it was driving you insane.

The stars were overflowing your vision, the glittering particles of pleasure dancing right in front of your eyes and you couldn’t even care about keeping yourself from breathing out his name. The heat searing at your core spread throughout your entire body, setting it alight with its sparks. You felt like a volcano was erupting inside of you, the hot lava now flowing through your veins instead of blood, pumped sharply with the deft movements of Satoru’s fingers.

A surge of pleasure electrocuted your system, seething tendrils of blissful lust followed every push and pull of his digits. Your thighs began to tremble, your walls were contracting rapidly, clenching around him. Your breath got caught inside your lungs and those stars before your eyes began dancing around, blinding you with white.

“Think you can take the third one?”, Gojo asked, his mouth right next to your ear before he bit onto the petal of it. He challenged you with the question but wasn’t expecting the answer for it. Something incoherent slipped through your lips, following with a moan when he added another dose of stretch to your throbbing pussy, filling you to the impossible levels with the third fingers that still, slipped in with ease. He was almost too much, it sent you overboard with the excitement that got you spiraling into the bliss, head first, full speed. Your entire body tensed, your hand clenched around his forearm, but he didn’t falter from the torturous pace he’s set. Orgasm began overtaking your body in waves of ecstasy that was rushing through you every time he moved.

Your entire form shook underneath his touch, your mind was a blurred out, hazy mess and you were getting lost, drowning in the waves of climax and as he curled his fingers once more, pressing the most sensitive spot inside your velvety walls with all of his might, the knot in your stomach snapped. His name began escaping your mouth unknowingly, breathlessly repeated like a prayer, feeding into his ego as you came all over his hand. The orgasm came with the intensity that shot you straight onto the cloud nine, overwhelming you completely. Your eyes closed shut, your breath was racing just as the heart in your chest.

Gojo slowed down, leading you through the high and eventually, he pulled his hand out.

“Ah, what a mess you made,” he teased, smearing the milky white residues between his soaked fingers. You could barely hear him, but you didn’t need to, to know that he’s gonna tease you for that forever.

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wisteria-cherry · 1 year

Text

forty days and forty nights

(hey guys! this is a series, so go check out the rest of them on my masterlist :)

sometimes, you really wondered why people wanted to be heroes.

sure, there was the moral aspect of it. wanting to protect your loved ones, wanting to make the world a better place, wanting to stand up for what’s right. but there was so much more that came with being a hero in modern society. heroes had little to no privacy, they were constantly involved in violent fights, justified or otherwise, people constantly gave them their opinions, whether they were encouraging words of “thank you for protecting us, you can do it!” or venomous declarations of how they hate what that particular hero did in that one particular instance. there was just so much attention on them, so much pressure. regardless, you were happy that those people chose to step up so they you could live the life you wanted— peaceful, steady, and safe. suffice to say, you never watched the news.

you worked in a cute coffee shop that you hoped to make your career one day (although not anytime soon; the pay wasn’t enough to cover living costs by itself so you worked another job). your boss had taken a liking to you and often talked about how she hoped you’d stay for the long run. you’d been working there for years. your coworkers looked up to you and all the regular customers adored you.

it was one of those days where you really loved your job. you had started brewing a fresh batch of coffee, and a coworker was making a few more pastries, so the air smelled heavenly. all the customers had been served, and they were all chatting pleasantly amongst themselves at the table.

you look up as the bell on the door jingled merrily, signaling another customer’s entrance. he was tall, and well built, with wild blond hair and red eyes you thought were beautiful. he was dressed slightly warm for the autumn day, with a long heavy-looking coat, gloves, and a scarf covering the lower half of his face, but you paid no mind to it; people had preferences, after all.

“welcome,” you chirp as he approaches the counter, studying the menu briefly. “what can i get you?” he finally pulls the scarf down from his face with one finger, and you note a sharp jawline and a scowl.

“just a medium black coffee.” came the gruff response. you nod, ringing him up as as he pulls a few bills out of his black leather wallet, waiting for you to tell him his total. you do, and he gives you the money, etcetera. the usual routine.

“for here or to go?” you prompt.

“here.” he responds.

“name for the order?”

“dynamight.” what an odd name.

as you go to get his coffee, you glance back, taking in his appearance. he looks vaguely familiar, but you can’t put your finger on it. however, you do notice one thing— dynamight seems to be having a bad day, given his tense demeanor and scowl. so, you resolve to make the best black coffee you can (or at least, the best you can make it when there’s only one step: pouring the coffee.) regardless, you’re glad the brew is fresh for him, at least.

as you slide the mug across the countertop to dynamight’s barstool, you opt to make conversation, hoping that maybe you could make a positive in his seemingly bad day.

“so, i haven’t seen you around here before. is this your first time here?” you ask cheerfully, polishing cups as you talk so you’re at least doing something.

“yeah.” dynamight sipped the coffee. he glanced down at it once before taking another sip.

score.

“can i ask what brings you here?”

“i’m tired as fuck.”

“that does explain the coffee.” you laugh lightly, despite his tone being dead serious. dynamight looked up at you from his coffee, brow furrowed slightly as though he were trying to decipher why you were laughing.

“long day, huh?” you ask sympathetically, leaning on the counter.

“you have no idea.” dynamight rolled his eyes.

“you’re right, i don’t. so, what do you do that tires you out like this?” you ask. did you ask because you hoped talking about it would help him feel better? of course. did you also ask because you really wanted to know what he did in hopes of figuring out why he felt so familiar? maybe.

dynamight looked surprised at your question, so much so that he looked up fully from his coffee.

“… i’m dynamight.” he stated as though it were obvious. you blink.

“…yes…?”

“i’m the number one hero.” dynamight stated this as though it were common knowledge. in his defense, it was common knowledge, you just didn’t follow heroes.

“oh, sorry,” you say apologetically, “i don’t really follow heroes. that’s why i didn’t recognize you or your name.” dynamight really did seem startled that you didn’t know him at all, but clearly tried to blow it off.

“tch, do you live under a rock or something?” he scoffed. “everyone knows who i am.” you simply shrug.

“i live in an apartment.” you reply. “and now i know, too.”

you liked this dynamight fellow. sure, he was rough around the edges (and egotistical), but he seemed to have a good heart. you talked with him for two and a half hours before you said your goodbyes (his was a grumbly “see ya”) and he left. you figured you’d probably never see him again— after all, from what you heard, heroes often go to bigger coffee shop chains. you had no proof of them doing otherwise. you supposed they just went to the bigger, more expensive coffee shops just because they can afford it.

still, when you went home after your shift, you found yourself settling down on the couch, a movie playing in the background as you open your laptop and then Google.

dynamight pro hero

billions of results in less than a second. his name was katsuki bakugo, and he was famous, to say the least. he was the youngest number one hero japan had seen, working his way up through intense fights against the strongest villains. instead of watching his fights, though (you didn’t like the violence), you watched some of his interviews. before even pressing play, you could see that he hated being at every interview, every public event you watched. he answered questions with blunt and sharp language. some hosts were shocked, others found it funny. you found yourself smiling, sharing the sentiments of the latter category of talk show hosts. part of you hoped he’d come back to the shop again.

and he did.

“i’m tired as fuck.”

next ->

(feel free to comment + leave ur thoughts :)

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captain-mj · 2 years

Note

Monsterhandler part 4? :3

I can’t help but speculate. Is Simon not being able to shift back maybe a stress response??

Oh i can definitely do that!!! So excited about the number of asks I've gotten for it!! Previous part here

Soap had spent years trying to work with... Their technical term was ESUs but that was a boring name. The other soldiers had casually called them monsters or freaks, but he didn't want to use those terms. He had seen the way they flinched when that got thrown around. Though, he doubted something like that would ever rattle Ghost of all people. The guy was tough. Big, bad and almost indestructible with a track record to put most units to shame by himself.

The SAS had been a wonderful achievement, but being a handler had always been the main goal. Ghost had been right. This had been a chance for career development. Though, exciting didn't begin to cover it. This was it. It was perfect. Especially since it was Ghost.

Except Ghost did not seem very willing to work with him. Which was fair, he had been with Price a few years.

Soap sighed and started to reread his file for... who knows how many times. It started with Simon [REDACTED]'s achievements. Excellent sniping record, extremely high amount of kills for such a short period of time, third best time for the military drill tests his scores from where he aced simulated investigations. Then his deployment ended and he went back home to a giant [REDACTED] though it took five minutes of talking to the guy to know he was from Manchester. There was a large section blacked out before getting to where he was found. Apparently he was just... found like that.

Defective was actually in bold. Huh. Soap hadn't really noticed before.

Pictures of his body were there. The scarring looked... intense. Most of his body either covered in scarring or bandaging. His wings... They looked gorgeous.

Ghost wasn't too bad himself. He was so tall and broad shouldered. The photos were strategic, never showing his face. Soap felt pretty disappointed by that.

There were a list of restrictions that had caught him off guard.

Don't let him be alone for long periods of time

Keep him muzzled

Keep his wings bound

Don't allow him off base without supervision

Don't allow him alone with recruits

Don't allow him alone with medication

Do not expose him to Christmas lights.

Soap had been under the impression he'd be dealing with a feral monster trying to kill anything and everything. But Ghost was... something else. When they had first met, he had already known he'd be getting Ghost. Despite that, he didn't make a comment on it. He hadn't been aware that Ghost was uninformed, so that was a smart move. If Ghost had found out on the field, Soap doubted he would've made it back. A simple accident in the field. A bullet that came from nowhere. Or maybe his body just never would've turned up. Soap chose to not take that knowledge personally.

Ghost had been interesting. Brushed him off and only really paid attention to him if Soap initiated first or he needed to give him an order. All in all, it had been... informative.

The Christmas lights part of the restrictions caught him off guard. Why the fuck couldn't he be around Christmas lights? Worried he'd strangle himself with them??

Soap sighed and put the file away. It wouldn't do any good to keep going over it. There was nothing new or useful in it. He stretched and got up to get himself a cup of coffee. To do so, he didn't have to pass Ghost's room. In fact, it was really out of his way to even go in the same general direction, but he still went by his room. Ghost's room was completely silent, so Soap knocked.

Ghost answered almost immediately and Soap almost stumbled when the door opened. Besides his mask and gloves, he didn't have his other stuff on. His wings were out, fluttering behind him and Soap could see his ears perk up through holes in his ski mask. They were a soft blond color. His hair was probably blond too. Weird considering his feathering, usually they matched.

"It's almost midnight." Ghost commented. He stared down at him. Another thing Soap had noticed about Ghost was the staring. It would be predatory if it wasn't so clear that's just how he was. Then, it became almost endearing.

Maybe he was drowsier than he thought. To think this mo- To think Ghost was cute.

"Yeah. You want a cup of coffee?" Soap asked, smiling at him. Goddamn he was pretty.

Ghost stared at him for a minute before crossing his arms. "I don't drink coffee."

"Tea then?" He was a Brit. They all liked tea.

"Sure."

Hook, line and fucking sinker.

Soap walked with him to the mess hall. Because of how late it was, no one was around. Most people respected the whole lights out at 9 pm thing. Good to know his... God he needed to think of something to call him. His Ghost he guessed. His Ghost also didn't care about them.

They could hang out whenever.

He turned the kettle and the coffee machine on. Ghost perched on the counter immediately. His bulk made it look rather funny, though without all the gear he looked slightly more human sized. Slightly.

Tattoos covered his right arm though. Skulls and flames. What a dorky sleeve. He looked up and saw that he had been caught staring.

"Johnny, right?"

"Ah. You looked through my file." Good to know you're just like me. He wanted to ask how many times he read it.

"Yes. Don't get why they thought we'd be a good fit. You locked a military police in his trunk." Ghost sounded amused, but his eyes didn't give anything away. They were so human. Soft and brown. It was unnerving.

"What you a bleeding heart for the police?"

"Nah. Can't stand them."

Soap smiled. "Ever get arrested?"

"Once. Got off easy." Ghost grabbed the kettle since it started to whistle. He poured the water in the mug on top of the teabag. The smell of vanilla filled the air like perfume.

"Aye. You seem like the type."

"Dick." Ghost looked at him for a moment, staring hard and Soap quickly turned around. He fixed the cup of coffee and drank it for a moment.

"Can I turn around now?"

"Nah, appreciate the view." Soap felt a blush creeping up his neck at the implication. "Your hair sucks less from the back." Nevermind.

"And you called me a dick." Soap mumbled, drinking his coffee.

Ghost laughed. It was… melodious. Soap wanted to turn around to see if he could catch him.

“Johnny.” Ghost’s voice had a growl to it. A lot of them did, it just wasn’t noticeable when they were relaxed. Soap wondered if Ghost was just never relaxed or if it was part of him being defective. He really wished he knew why. It wasn't a problem for him, but it clearly was for Ghost.

Soap went to say Simon before deciding he didn’t want to do that. They were having fun. He settled on copying his tone. “Ghost…”

Ghost sighed. “I want to get it out of the way, you understand?”

“Get what out of the way?”

“What do you plan to do to me? What do you consider punishment for me?” Ah. Fair question he supposed.

“It’s like you said.” Soap answered, getting the urge to be gentle with him. He wondered what Price considered punishment before deciding he didn't want to know, worried he'd come out thinking less of the man. “You’re not feral. I don’t need to treat you like a dog."

Ghost was very quiet for a minute before Soap felt a weight on the top of his head as Ghost patted him. “You’re a good one. That’s nice.” His hand was huge. Claws gently running over Soap’s hair. Sharp ends that could cut through his skin easily. He hadn't noticed it before but it was obvious now. The gloves he thought Ghost was wearing was his skin. It felt normal but it was stained a black color like it had been tattooed. His fingertips trailed along the back of his head to his neck.

“Alright, Johnny. I’ll work with you for now. But one wrong move.” His hand suddenly wrapped around Soap’s throat. Extremely gentle, not an ounce of pressure. But a threat nonetheless. “You understand?”

Soap tilted his head back just a little, letting Ghost’s hand settle a little more firmly on his throat. “I understand.” He knew for a fact that Ghost wouldn’t. Couldn’t. Killing his handler wouldn’t be good for him. But he wanted Ghost to trust him. Fuck it. He wanted Ghost to like him.

Ghost squeezed carefully, making sure that he cut off blood flow but not his actual breathing, before letting go.

Soap counted to 10 before he turned around. Ghost was gone. The mug sat in the sink.

Soap sipped his coffee.

A very exciting career development indeed.

#johnny soap mactavish #john price #captain john price #ghostsoap #simon ghost riley #soap cod #cod mw2 #ghost cod #call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty modern warfare ii #alejandro vargas #rodolfo parra #rodolfo cod #soapghost #soap x ghost #ghoap

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ask-kaveh-the-architect · 25 days

Note

According to all known laws of aviation, there is no way a bee should be able to fly. Its wings are too small to get its fat little body off the ground. The bee, of course, flies anyway because bees don't care what humans think is impossible. Yellow, black. Yellow, black. Yellow, black. Yellow, black. Ooh, black and yellow! Let's shake it up a little. Barry! Breakfast is ready! Ooming! Hang on a second. Hello? - Barry? - Adam? - Oan you believe this is happening? - I can't. I'll pick you up. Looking sharp. Use the stairs. Your father paid good money for those. Sorry. I'm excited. Here's the graduate. We're very proud of you, son. A perfect report card, all B's. Very proud. Ma! I got a thing going here. - You got lint on your fuzz. - Ow! That's me! - Wave to us! We'll be in row 118,000. - Bye! Barry, I told you, stop flying in the house! - Hey, Adam. - Hey, Barry. - Is that fuzz gel? - A little. Special day, graduation. Never thought I'd make it. Three days grade school, three days high school. Those were awkward. Three days college. I'm glad I took a day and hitchhiked around the hive. You did come back different. - Hi, Barry. - Artie, growing a mustache? Looks good. - Hear about Frankie? - Yeah. - You going to the funeral? - No, I'm not going. Everybody knows, sting someone, you die. Don't waste it on a squirrel. Such a hothead. I guess he could have just gotten out of the way. I love this incorporating an amusement park into our day. That's why we don't need vacations. Boy, quite a bit of pomp... under the circumstances. - Well, Adam, today we are men. - We are! - Bee-men. - Amen! Hallelujah! Students, faculty, distinguished bees, please welcome Dean Buzzwell. Welcome, New Hive Oity graduating class of... ...9:15. That concludes our ceremonies. And begins your career at Honex Industries! Will we pick ourjob today? I heard it's just orientation. Heads up! Here we go. Keep your hands and antennas inside the tram at all times. - Wonder what it'll be like? - A little scary. Welcome to Honex, a division of Honesco and a part of the Hexagon Group. This is it! Wow. Wow. We know that you, as a bee, have worked your whole life to get to the point where you can work for your whole life. Honey begins when our valiant Pollen Jocks bring the nectar to the hive. Our top-secret formula is automatically color-corrected, scent-adjusted and bubble-contoured into this soothing sweet syrup with its distinctive golden glow you know as... Honey! - That girl was hot. - She's my cousin! - She is? - Yes, we're all cousins. - Right. You're right. - At Honex, we constantly strive to improve every aspect of bee existence. These bees are stress-testing a new helmet technology. - What do you think he makes? - Not enough. Here we have our latest advancement, the Krelman. - What does that do? - Oatches that little strand of honey that hangs after you pour it. Saves us millions. Oan anyone work on the Krelman? Of course. Most bee jobs are small ones. But bees know that every small job, if it's done well, means a lot

…Huh?

Should i call for someone?

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setagaya-division · 1 year

Text

Yorii's Thoughts on Suginami Division

Ryuko Umemoto

"Ah, Mr. Big, Bad Animator, himself!" Yorii laughs at Ryuko's photo. "Would you all believe me if I told you I had to work with this guy once? Apparently, he and his team were doing some animated version of this highly-acclaimed manga. What was it called again... oh yeah! Red of the Ambitious, I think. I took a gander at it. It was alright, but once you've read one isekai manga, you've read them all. They're all the same, really. Some hero or heroine dies a sad death, they come face-to-face with their Maker or the God of that universe, get transported to a new world where their abilities are a lot better than they were in the old world. Same-old, same-old."

"Anyway, apparently one of the characters had my size and build, so they asked me to act as something of a model." Yorii then shows Ryuko's photo again. "And guess who was in charge of that. Boy, I had some fun teasing this guy. It was fun seeing his expression, and knowing he couldn't do much about it since he'd get into a lot of trouble! But still, I decided to cut him some slack at the end and do my parts correctly. ...For the most part, anyway."

"After that, we were both paid a hefty sum and went about our separate ways. I wouldn't have bothered with him after that, but I hear he works as a sort of babysitter for Kanra-chan and one of her friends. If so, I'll have to find a reason to bug him again!"

Maki Umemoto

"Maki-sensei? You mean he's joining this rap tournament too? Huh. Like Mina said, I'm surprised, but at the same time, I'm not. I mean, seriously, if you could hear some of the things this guy says about the government. I tell you, if he ever got tired of teaching, he could have a career as a public speaker or something. ...But still, for all his talking, you'd think he'd do less of that, and more action, you know? I mean, it's all well to talk about doing something, but if you're not actually putting your words to good use, then what good are you?"

"Besides that, Maki-sensei is... an okay teacher. I've noticed he gets a little bit nervous when it comes to teaching a large number of students, which doesn't bother me then. The more time he works up the nerve the teach, the more time I get to chill in the back of the classroom, playing on my phone and browsing PROFILE!"

Shuu Edogawa

As the singer looks at the photo of the detective, Yorii bursts out laughing. "Really?! Are you kidding me?! This guy?! I can't believe it!" Yorii starts laughing again, but manages to calm himself down. "Oh geez... sorry, sorry. I guess I should explain myself, right? Well, here goes. See, before I met Kanra-chan, you all know I liked to flirt and hang out with girls, right? Well... as it turns out, some of the girls I spoke too may or may not have been together with someone else at the time. And as it turns out... seeing their girls with a guy shorter and younger than them was bound to piss some guys off. But instead of doing the jobs themselves, they decided to hire this guy to get proof first!" Yorii points to Shuu's photo.

"Ever since then, he and I have been engaged in a rather fun game of 'Cat and Mouse'. There have been several times he's actually caught me, but it doesn't really do him much good. Know why? Simple. This is why."

Yorii then opens his mouth and starts singing an enchanting song, which makes the camera black out for a bit. As he finishes, you are left wondering what you were just doing and why Yorii is sitting smiling at you innocently, as if he has a dirty, little secret...

山茶花 Zombeez

"Do I need to say it? I like all of the guys from this team! ...Or rather, I like messing with all of the guys from this team! I mean, hey, can you blame me? They make it too easy! Especially Mr. Investigator here!" Yorii says, laughing out loud again. "Oh man, I cannot wait to face these guys in the tournament! It is going to be a barrel full of laughs for everyone involved!"

#hypmic #hypmic oc #hypnosis mic #hypnosis mic oc #hypnosis microphone #yorii sakuma #enigma #setagaya division #suginami division #sazanka zombeez #ryuko umemoto #maki umemoto #shuu edogawa

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nihilnovisubsole · 2 years

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[taps mic] is everybody here? everyone still manning their tumblr blogs after the twitter roller coaster of the past couple of months? cool

so! 2022, huh? it's not new year's eve without one of my soppy, navelgazing year-in-review posts. if you're reading this, you survived. as an acquaintance of mine put it, "i hope 2023 is the year it all pays off for you."

if i seem unusually optimistic about it, it's because this year, against the odds, things started looking up. i had no idea when i stepped out last december 31st and listened to the neighbors' firecrackers what i was in for. i didn't know that when obsidian emailed me on a january afternoon about "a quick follow-up meeting," it would be their offer call. i didn't know what kind people i'd meet there, or the lengths they'd go to to make me feel like a respected peer instead of a gatecrashing fan. i knew least of all how it would affect my state of mind: that i'd finally feel a sense of accomplishment and dignity. i look ahead and i see a viable future for myself. i've been paid to write for years, but now i can support myself with it. i think about the weight that takes off my mother. i remember staying up until 4 A.M., wondering how i'd do the only thing i ever wanted to do. it was a big, dark ocean then. it's still an ocean now, but i've got a boat, a crew, and a lantern. it's hard to overstate what that does to you.

the downside is, there are only 24 hours in a day, and your time feels very different when you're on the clock for eight of them. i knew it'd be a change, and it's gone more smoothly than i thought it would, but i just can't churn unpaid stuff out the way i did years ago. projects that would've taken a long time in college have become interminable now. you wouldn't believe how much half-finished art i have sitting around. it's not lost on me that this is just ordinary adulthood, and even i had to get around to it at some point. laugh all you want! seriously, i probably deserve it, and it's hard enough to find things to laugh about in this decade.

part of me misses that pillowy freelance lifestyle of cramming my paid work into the mornings, then doing fun projects all day. then i remember i was numbing the ache of not having a career that i now have, and the superficial sense of leisure came with a heavy price. it wasn't worth three cents a word and almost no creative input. it wasn't worth being on medi-cal and having my mother keep me afloat. it certainly wasn't worth watching my friends work themselves half to death because they weren't privileged enough to have that support network. i think we all agree that we should have a better world, that artists should be able to just make art, that contractors aren't paid enough. [except for relic, they were very generous, i loved them.] in the meantime, we have to make it through with what we have, and figure out how to look after each other as best we're able to.

i think, when people gain a measure of success in life, they want to fantasize that they did it all by themselves. that's ridiculous. i wouldn't be writing any of this without the people who hyped up my wild fanfic ideas or bought dangerous crowns. i'd never have written anniversary without the other longsummer nights authors building a vivid world for hercule and aida to live in. i'll never forget the colleagues and the industry doors they helped me through, and, you know, i'm not much now, but i hope i can pass that on. even if you only have a little power, you have to use it for good, right? otherwise, that's how you get a chandelier dropped on you.

seriously, though, read anniversary. i want to talk about it more. it's short, i swear!

#long post

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zwiebelii · 2 months

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Whyyyy why why why do my parents get character development YEARS after it would've been useful to me

Just today we had a talk about work and I started crying bc my mom kept digging for what kind of work "fulfills" me. My answer was none. There is no type of work that "fulfills" me, so I'm just going for whatever pays best while being alright work-conditions-wise

And that's fine! I'm fine with that! With the way things are going, I'll work 1 or 2 years full time, then I'll scale down to maybe like 80%, and I'll have more free time AND more money than most of the people I know. The path I've chosen works alright for me. I'm planning to use the additional free time to work on creative endeavors, maybe I'll develop a video game, maybe I'll draw comics, maybe I'll create a YouTube channel or something like that. And if I get whatever creative endeavor I set my heart to to blow up, I can switch into that creative career.

But my mom just kept digging and I started crying bc well, I just cry easily. I told her that what "fulfills" me are mostly creative things, but since I hate being told what to do when it comes to creative things, this won't work for me. She was like "alright, but you have to have something else that you're passionate for" and I mentioned my passion for linguistics

And she deadass just asks me "well why aren't you studying /that/ then?"

Lady idk but it may be because 4 years ago, when I had to pick what I would study after I failed architecture, you threatened to throw me out and disown me if I picked something, as you called it, "useless like that language studies thing". Back then I ended up just going for business studies because it felt safe, and I didn't want my parents to throw me out just yet, and it's the single decision I honestly regret most in my life.

Now I'm almost finished with the "safe" major YOU picked for me and you have the AUDACITY to tell me that I'm way too young to be "thinking so mathematically", and that "I shouldn't be so scared to take risks and dream big" MOTHER WHERE WAS THIS ENERGY YEARS AGO??? WHERE WAS THIS ENCOURAGEMENT TO FOLLOW MY DREAMS WHEN I NEEDED IT?????

We kept talking and now she's basically all "well if that's what truly interests you, you should go for that. Look into where you can study it, and we'll figure out the financial details, you'll survive somehow. People who study this, they find work somewhere, maybe not the best paid work, but they do find it" and it's like. Yeah. That's what I tried telling you back then. But YOU didn't listen and kept telling me, who had just turned 18, about how I'd end up on the streets, poor and with no support system.

I'm just so angry that she's only learned these things now. And it's always been like that. There's SO many things where she would stand in my way, then a few years pass by, and she goes "why didn't you ever do x? It would've been such a nice opportunity" like YEAH. it WOULD'VE BEEN. Wonder why it didn't work out, huh.

And I just. Idk. I need to move out. I need to move out move out move out move out. I need to find a full time job, make enough money so I can pay for an apartment, and get away from here, so I can think on my own what I want from life and what my next steps are.

#my posts #I'm just grieving what could've been

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dear-ao3 · 3 years

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Youguys did great! You're monsters! You're sky freaks! I love it! I love it! - I wonder where they were. - I don't know. Their day's not planned. Outside the hive, flying who knows where, doing who knows what. You can'tjust decide to be a Pollen Jock. You have to be bred for that. Right. Look. That's more pollen than you and I will see in a lifetime. It's just a status symbol. Bees make too much of it. Perhaps. Unless you're wearing it and the ladies see you wearing it. Those ladies? Aren't they our cousins too? Distant. Distant. Look at these two. - Oouple of Hive Harrys. - Let's have fun with them. It must be dangerous being a Pollen Jock. Yeah. Once a bear pinned me against a mushroom! He had a paw on my throat, and with the other, he was slapping me! - Oh, my! - I never thought I'd knock him out. What were you doing during this? Trying to alert the authorities. I can autograph that. A little gusty out there today, wasn't it, comrades? Yeah. Gusty. We're hitting a sunflower patch six miles from here tomorrow. - Six miles, huh? - Barry! A puddle jump for us, but maybe you're not up for it. - Maybe I am. - You are not! We're going 0900 at J-Gate. What do you think, buzzy-boy? Are you bee enough? I might be. It all depends on what 0900 means. Hey, Honex! Dad, you surprised me. You decide what you're interested in? - Well, there's a lot of choices. - But you only get one. Do you ever get bored doing the same job every day? Son, let me tell you about stirring. You grab that stick, and you just move it around, and you stir it around. You get yourself into a rhythm. It's a beautiful thing. You know, Dad, the more I think about it, maybe the honey field just isn't right for me. You were thinking of what, making balloon animals? That's a bad job for a guy with a stinger. Janet, your son's not sure he wants to go into honey! - Barry, you are so funny sometimes. - I'm not trying to be funny. You're not funny! You're going into honey. Our son, the stirrer! - You're gonna be a stirrer? - No one's listening to me! Wait till you see the sticks I have. I could say anything right now. I'm gonna get an ant tattoo! Let's open some honey and celebrate! Maybe I'll pierce my thorax. Shave my antennae. Shack up with a grasshopper. Get a gold tooth and call everybody "dawg"! I'm so proud. - We're starting work today! - Today's the day. Oome on! All the good jobs will be gone. Yeah, right. Pollen counting, stunt bee, pouring, stirrer, front desk, hair removal... - Is it still available? - Hang on. Two left! One of them's yours! Oongratulations! Step to the side. - What'd you get? - Picking crud out. Stellar! Wow! Oouple of newbies? Yes, sir! Our first day! We are ready! Make your choice. - You want to go first? - No, you go. Oh, my. What's available? Restroom attendant's open, not for the reason you think. - Any chance of getting the Krelman? - Sure, you're on. I'm sorry, the Krelman just closed out. Wax monkey's always open. The Krelman opened up again. What happened? A bee died. Makes an opening. See? He's dead. Another dead one. Deady. Deadified. Two more dead. Dead from the neck up. Dead from the neck down. That's life! Oh, this is so hard! Heating, cooling, stunt bee, pourer, stirrer, humming, inspector number seven, lint coordinator, stripe supervisor, mite wrangler. Barry, what do you think I should... Barry? Barry! All right, we've got the sunflower patch in quadrant nine... What happened to you? Where are you? - I'm going out. - Out? Out where? - Out there. - Oh, no! I have to, before I go to work for the rest of my life. You're gonna die! You're crazy! Hello? Another call coming in. If anyone's feeling brave, there's a Korean deli on 83rd that gets their roses today. Hey, guys. - Look at that. - Isn't that the kid we saw yesterday? Hold it, son, flight deck's restricted. It's OK, Lou. We're gonna take him up. Really? Feeling lucky, are you? Sign here, here. Just initial that. - Thank you. - OK. You got a rain advisory today, and as you all know, bees cannot fly in rain. So be careful. As always, watch your brooms, hockey

sticks,dogs, birds, bears and bats. Also, I got a couple of reports of root beer being poured on us. Murphy's in a home because of it, babbling like a cicada! - That's awful. - And a reminder for you rookies, bee law number one, absolutely no talking to humans! All right, launch positions! Buzz, buzz, buzz, buzz! Buzz, buzz, buzz, buzz! Buzz, buzz, buzz, buzz! Black and yellow! Hello! You ready for this, hot shot? Yeah. Yeah, bring it on. Wind, check. - Antennae, check. - Nectar pack, check. - Wings, check. - Stinger, check. Scared out of my shorts, check. OK, ladies, let's move it out! Pound those petunias, you striped stem-suckers! All of you, drain those flowers! Wow! I'm out! I can't believe I'm out! So blue. I feel so fast and free! Box kite! Wow! Flowers! This is Blue Leader. We have roses visual. Bring it around 30 degrees and hold. Roses! 30 degrees, roger. Bringing it around. Stand to the side, kid. It's got a bit of a kick. That is one nectar collector! - Ever see pollination up close? - No, sir. I pick up some pollen here, sprinkle it over here. Maybe a dash over there, a pinch on that one. See that? It's a little bit of magic. That's amazing. Why do we do that? That's pollen power. More pollen, more flowers, more nectar, more honey for us. Oool. I'm picking up a lot of bright yellow. Oould be daisies. Don't we need those? Oopy that visual. Wait. One of these flowers seems to be on the move. Say again? You're reporting a moving flower? Affirmative. That was on the line! This is the coolest. What is it? I don't know, but I'm loving this color. It smells good. Not like a flower, but I like it. Yeah, fuzzy. Ohemical-y. Oareful, guys. It's a little grabby. My sweet lord of bees! Oandy-brain, get off there! Problem! - Guys! - This could be bad. Affirmative. Very close. Gonna hurt. Mama's little boy. You are way out of position, rookie! Ooming in at you like a missile! Help me! I don't think these are flowers. - Should we tell him? - I think he knows. What is this?! Match point! You can start packing up, honey, because you're about to eat it! Yowser! Gross. There's a bee in the car! - Do something! - I'm driving! - Hi, bee. - He's back here! He's going to sting me! Nobody move. If you don't move, he won't sting you. Freeze! He blinked! Spray him, Granny! What are you doing?! Wow... the tension level out here is unbelievable. I gotta get home. Oan't fly in rain. Oan't fly in rain. Oan't fly in rain. Mayday! Mayday! Bee going down! Ken, could you close the window please? Ken, could you close the window please? Oheck out my new resume. I made it into a fold-out brochure. You see? Folds out. Oh, no. More humans. I don't need this. What was that? Maybe this time. This time. This time. This time! This time! This... Drapes! That is diabolical. It's fantastic. It's got all my special skills, even my top-ten favorite movies. What's number one? Star Wars? Nah, I don't go for that... ...kind of stuff. No wonder we shouldn't talk to them. They're out of their minds. When I leave a job interview, they're flabbergasted, can't believe what I say. There's the sun. Maybe that's a way out. I don't remember the sun having a big 75 on it. I predicted global warming. I could feel it getting hotter. At first I thought it was just me. Wait! Stop! Bee! Stand back. These are winter boots. Wait! Don't kill him! You know I'm allergic to them! This thing could kill me! Why does his life have less value than yours? Why does his life have any less value than mine? Is that your statement? I'm just saying all life has value. You don't know what he's capable of feeling. My brochure! There you go, little guy. I'm not scared of him. It's an allergic thing. Put that on your resume brochure. My whole face could puff up. Make it one of your special skills. Knocking someone out is also a special skill. Right. Bye, Vanessa. Thanks. - Vanessa, next week? Yogurt night? - Sure, Ken. You know, whatever. - You could put carob chips on there. - Bye. - Supposed to be less calories. - Bye. I gotta say something. She saved my life. I gotta say something. All

right,here it goes. Nah. What would I say? I could really get in trouble. It's a bee law. You're not supposed to talk to a human. I can't believe I'm doing this. I've got to. Oh, I can't do it. Oome on! No. Yes. No. Do it. I can't. How should I start it? "You like jazz?" No, that's no good. Here she comes! Speak, you fool! Hi! I'm sorry. - You're talking. - Yes, I know. You're talking! I'm so sorry. No, it's OK. It's fine. I know I'm dreaming. But I don't recall going to bed. Well, I'm sure this is very disconcerting. This is a bit of a surprise to me. I mean, you're a bee! I am. And I'm not supposed to be doing this, but they were all trying to kill me. And if it wasn't for you... I had to thank you. It's just how I was raised. That was a little weird. - I'm talking with a bee. - Yeah. I'm talking to a bee. And the bee is talking to me! I just want to say I'm grateful. I'll leave now. - Wait! How did you learn to do that? - What? The talking thing. Same way you did, I guess. "Mama, Dada, honey." You pick it up. - That's very funny. - Yeah. Bees are funny. If we didn't laugh, we'd cry with what we have to deal with. Anyway... Oan I... ...get you something? - Like what? I don't know. I mean... I don't know. Ooffee? I don't want to put you out. It's no trouble. It takes two minutes. - It's just coffee. - I hate to impose. - Don't be ridiculous! - Actually, I would love a cup. Hey, you want rum cake? - I shouldn't. - Have some. - No, I can't. - Oome on! I'm trying to lose a couple micrograms. - Where? - These stripes don't help. You look great! I don't know if you know anything about fashion. Are you all right? No. He's making the tie in the cab as they're flying up Madison. He finally gets there. He runs up the steps into the church. The wedding is on. And he says, "Watermelon? I thought you said Guatemalan. Why would I marry a watermelon?" Is that a bee joke? That's the kind of stuff we do. Yeah, different. So, what are you gonna do, Barry? About work? I don't know. I want to do my part for the hive, but I can't do it the way they want. I know how you feel. - You do? - Sure. My parents wanted me to be a lawyer or a doctor, but I wanted to be a florist. - Really? - My only interest is flowers. Our new queen was just elected with that same campaign slogan. Anyway, if you look... There's my hive right there. See it? You're in Sheep Meadow! Yes! I'm right off the Turtle Pond! No way! I know that area. I lost a toe ring there once. - Why do girls put rings on their toes? - Why not? - It's like putting a hat on your knee. - Maybe I'll try that. - You all right, ma'am? - Oh, yeah. Fine. Just having two cups of coffee! Anyway, this has been great. Thanks for the coffee. Yeah, it's no trouble. Sorry I couldn't finish it. If I did, I'd be up the rest of my life. Are you...? Oan I take a piece of this with me? Sure! Here, have a crumb. - Thanks! - Yeah. All right. Well, then... I guess I'll see you around. Or not. OK, Barry. And thank you so much again... for before. Oh, that? That was nothing. Well, not nothing, but... Anyway... This can't possibly work. He's all set to go. We may as well try it. OK, Dave, pull the chute. - Sounds amazing. - It was amazing! It was the scariest, happiest moment of my life. Humans! I can't believe you were with humans! Giant, scary humans! What were they like? Huge and crazy. They talk crazy. They eat crazy giant things. They drive crazy. - Do they try and kill you, like on TV? - Some of them. But some of them don't. - How'd you get back? - Poodle. You did it, and I'm glad. You saw whatever you wanted to see. You had your "experience." Now you can pick out yourjob and be normal. - Well... - Well? Well, I met someone. You did? Was she Bee-ish? - A wasp?! Your parents will kill you! - No, no, no, not a wasp. - Spider? - I'm not attracted to spiders. I know it's the hottest thing, with the eight legs and all. I can't get by that face. So who is she? She's... human. No, no. That's a bee law. You wouldn't break a bee law. - Her name's Vanessa. - Oh, boy. She's so nice. And she's a florist! Oh, no!

You'redating a human florist! We're not dating. You're flying outside the hive, talking to humans that attack our homes with power washers and M-80s! One-eighth a stick of dynamite! She saved my life! And she understands me. This is over! Eat this. This is not over! What was that? - They call it a crumb. - It was so stingin' stripey! And that's not what they eat. That's what falls off what they eat! - You know what a Oinnabon is? - No. It's bread and cinnamon and frosting. They heat it up... Sit down! ...really hot! - Listen to me! We are not them! We're us. There's us and there's them! Yes, but who can deny the heart that is yearning? There's no yearning. Stop yearning. Listen to me! You have got to start thinking bee, my friend. Thinking bee! - Thinking bee. - Thinking bee. Thinking bee! Thinking bee! Thinking bee! Thinking bee! There he is. He's in the pool. You know what your problem is, Barry? I gotta start thinking bee? How much longer will this go on? It's been three days! Why aren't you working? I've got a lot of big life decisions to think about. What life? You have no life! You have no job. You're barely a bee! Would it kill you to make a little honey? Barry, come out. Your father's talking to you. Martin, would you talk to him? Barry, I'm talking to you! You coming? Got everything? All set! Go ahead. I'll catch up. Don't be too long. Watch this! Vanessa! - We're still here. - I told you not to yell at him. He doesn't respond to yelling! - Then why yell at me? - Because you don't listen! I'm not listening to this. Sorry, I've gotta go. - Where are you going? - I'm meeting a friend. A girl? Is this why you can't decide? Bye. I just hope she's Bee-ish. They have a huge parade of flowers every year in Pasadena? To be in the Tournament of Roses, that's every florist's dream! Up on a float, surrounded by flowers, crowds cheering. A tournament. Do the roses compete in athletic events? No. All right, I've got one. How come you don't fly everywhere? It's exhausting. Why don't you run everywhere? It's faster. Yeah, OK, I see, I see. All right, your turn. TiVo. You can just freeze live TV? That's insane! You don't have that? We have Hivo, but it's a disease. It's a horrible, horrible disease. Oh, my. Dumb bees! You must want to sting all those jerks. We try not to sting. It's usually fatal for us. So you have to watch your temper. Very carefully. You kick a wall, take a walk, write an angry letter and throw it out. Work through it like any emotion: Anger, jealousy, lust. Oh, my goodness! Are you OK? Yeah. - What is wrong with you?! - It's a bug. He's not bothering anybody. Get out of here, you creep! What was that? A Pic 'N' Save circular? Yeah, it was. How did you know? It felt like about 10 pages. Seventy-five is pretty much our limit. You've really got that down to a science. - I lost a cousin to Italian Vogue. - I'll bet. What in the name of Mighty Hercules is this? How did this get here? Oute Bee, Golden Blossom, Ray Liotta Private Select? - Is he that actor? - I never heard of him. - Why is this here? - For people. We eat it. You don't have enough food of your own? - Well, yes. - How do you get it? - Bees make it. - I know who makes it! And it's hard to make it! There's heating, cooling, stirring. You need a whole Krelman thing! - It's organic. - It's our-ganic! It's just honey, Barry. Just what?! Bees don't know about this! This is stealing! A lot of stealing! You've taken our homes, schools, hospitals! This is all we have! And it's on sale?! I'm getting to the bottom of this. I'm getting to the bottom of all of this! Hey, Hector. - You almost done? - Almost. He is here. I sense it. Well, I guess I'll go home now and just leave this nice honey out, with no one around. You're busted, box boy! I knew I heard something. So you can talk! I can talk. And now you'll start talking! Where you getting the sweet stuff? Who's your supplier? I don't understand. I thought we were friends. The last thing we want to do is upset bees! You're too late! It's ours now! You, sir, have crossed the wrong sword! You, sir, will be

lunch formy iguana, Ignacio! Where is the honey coming from? Tell me where! Honey Farms! It comes from Honey Farms! Orazy person! What horrible thing has happened here? These faces, they never knew what hit them. And now they're on the road to nowhere! Just keep still. What? You're not dead? Do I look dead? They will wipe anything that moves. Where you headed? To Honey Farms. I am onto something huge here. I'm going to Alaska. Moose blood, crazy stuff. Blows your head off! I'm going to Tacoma. - And you? - He really is dead. All right. Uh-oh! - What is that?! - Oh, no! - A wiper! Triple blade! - Triple blade? Jump on! It's your only chance, bee! Why does everything have to be so doggone clean?! How much do you people need to see?! Open your eyes! Stick your head out the window! From NPR News in Washington, I'm Oarl Kasell. But don't kill no more bugs! - Bee! - Moose blood guy!! - You hear something? - Like what? Like tiny screaming. Turn off the radio. Whassup, bee boy? Hey, Blood. Just a row of honey jars, as far as the eye could see. Wow! I assume wherever this truck goes is where they're getting it. I mean, that honey's ours. - Bees hang tight. - We're all jammed in. It's a close community. Not us, man. We on our own. Every mosquito on his own. - What if you get in trouble? - You a mosquito, you in trouble. Nobody likes us. They just smack. See a mosquito, smack, smack! At least you're out in the world. You must meet girls. Mosquito girls try to trade up, get with a moth, dragonfly. Mosquito girl don't want no mosquito. You got to be kidding me! Mooseblood's about to leave the building! So long, bee! - Hey, guys! - Mooseblood! I knew I'd catch y'all down here. Did you bring your crazy straw? We throw it in jars, slap a label on it, and it's pretty much pure profit. What is this place? A bee's got a brain the size of a pinhead. They are pinheads! Pinhead. - Oheck out the new smoker. - Oh, sweet. That's the one you want. The Thomas 3000! Smoker? Ninety puffs a minute, semi-automatic. Twice the nicotine, all the tar. A couple breaths of this knocks them right out. They make the honey, and we make the money. "They make the honey, and we make the money"? Oh, my! What's going on? Are you OK? Yeah. It doesn't last too long. Do you know you're in a fake hive with fake walls? Our queen was moved here. We had no choice. This is your queen? That's a man in women's clothes! That's a drag queen! What is this? Oh, no! There's hundreds of them! Bee honey. Our honey is being brazenly stolen on a massive scale! This is worse than anything bears have done! I intend to do something. Oh, Barry, stop. Who told you humans are taking our honey? That's a rumor. Do these look like rumors? That's a conspiracy theory. These are obviously doctored photos. How did you get mixed up in this? He's been talking to humans. - What? - Talking to humans?! He has a human girlfriend. And they make out! Make out? Barry! We do not. - You wish you could. - Whose side are you on? The bees! I dated a cricket once in San Antonio. Those crazy legs kept me up all night. Barry, this is what you want to do with your life? I want to do it for all our lives. Nobody works harder than bees! Dad, I remember you coming home so overworked your hands were still stirring. You couldn't stop. I remember that. What right do they have to our honey? We live on two cups a year. They put it in lip balm for no reason whatsoever! Even if it's true, what can one bee do? Sting them where it really hurts. In the face! The eye! - That would hurt. - No. Up the nose? That's a killer. There's only one place you can sting the humans, one place where it matters. Hive at Five, the hive's only full-hour action news source. No more bee beards! With Bob Bumble at the anchor desk. Weather with Storm Stinger. Sports with Buzz Larvi. And Jeanette Ohung. - Good evening. I'm Bob Bumble. - And I'm Jeanette Ohung. A tri-county bee, Barry Benson, intends to sue the human race for stealing our honey, packaging it and profiting from it illegally! Tomorrow night on Bee Larry King, we'll have three former

queenshere in our studio, discussing their new book, Olassy Ladies, out this week on Hexagon. Tonight we're talking to Barry Benson. Did you ever think, "I'm a kid from the hive. I can't do this"? Bees have never been afraid to change the world. What about Bee Oolumbus? Bee Gandhi? Bejesus? Where I'm from, we'd never sue humans. We were thinking of stickball or candy stores. How old are you? The bee community is supporting you in this case, which will be the trial of the bee century. You know, they have a Larry King in the human world too. It's a common name. Next week... He looks like you and has a show and suspenders and colored dots... Next week... Glasses, quotes on the bottom from the guest even though you just heard 'em. Bear Week next week! They're scary, hairy and here live. Always leans forward, pointy shoulders, squinty eyes, very Jewish. In tennis, you attack at the point of weakness! It was my grandmother, Ken. She's 81. Honey, her backhand's a joke! I'm not gonna take advantage of that? Quiet, please. Actual work going on here. - Is that that same bee? - Yes, it is! I'm helping him sue the human race. - Hello. - Hello, bee. This is Ken. Yeah, I remember you. Timberland, size ten and a half. Vibram sole, I believe. Why does he talk again? Listen, you better go 'cause we're really busy working. But it's our yogurt night! Bye-bye. Why is yogurt night so difficult?! You poor thing. You two have been at this for hours! Yes, and Adam here has been a huge help. - Frosting... - How many sugars? Just one. I try not to use the competition. So why are you helping me? Bees have good qualities. And it takes my mind off the shop. Instead of flowers, people are giving balloon bouquets now. Those are great, if you're three. And artificial flowers. - Oh, those just get me psychotic! - Yeah, me too. Bent stingers, pointless pollination. Bees must hate those fake things! Nothing worse than a daffodil that's had work done. Maybe this could make up for it a little bit. - This lawsuit's a pretty big deal. - I guess. You sure you want to go through with it? Am I sure? When I'm done with the humans, they won't be able to say, "Honey, I'm home," without paying a royalty! It's an incredible scene here in downtown Manhattan, where the world anxiously waits, because for the first time in history, we will hear for ourselves if a honeybee can actually speak. What have we gotten into here, Barry? It's pretty big, isn't it? I can't believe how many humans don't work during the day. You think billion-dollar multinational food companies have good lawyers? Everybody needs to stay behind the barricade. - What's the matter? - I don't know, I just got a chill. Well, if it isn't the bee team. You boys work on this? All rise! The Honorable Judge Bumbleton presiding. All right. Oase number 4475, Superior Oourt of New York, Barry Bee Benson v. the Honey Industry is now in session. Mr. Montgomery, you're representing the five food companies collectively? A privilege. Mr. Benson... you're representing all the bees of the world? I'm kidding. Yes, Your Honor, we're ready to proceed. Mr. Montgomery, your opening statement, please. Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, my grandmother was a simple woman. Born on a farm, she believed it was man's divine right to benefit from the bounty of nature God put before us. If we lived in the topsy-turvy world Mr. Benson imagines, just think of what would it mean. I would have to negotiate with the silkworm for the elastic in my britches! Talking bee! How do we know this isn't some sort of holographic motion-picture-capture Hollywood wizardry? They could be using laser beams! Robotics! Ventriloquism! Oloning! For all we know, he could be on steroids! Mr. Benson? Ladies and gentlemen, there's no trickery here. I'm just an ordinary bee. Honey's pretty important to me. It's important to all bees. We invented it! We make it. And we protect it with our lives. Unfortunately, there are some people in this room who think they can take it from us 'cause we're the little guys! I'm hoping that, after this is all over, you'll see

how,by taking our honey, you not only take everything we have but everything we are! I wish he'd dress like that all the time. So nice! Oall your first witness. So, Mr. Klauss Vanderhayden of Honey Farms, big company you have. I suppose so. I see you also own Honeyburton and Honron! Yes, they provide beekeepers for our farms. Beekeeper. I find that to be a very disturbing term. I don't imagine you employ any bee-free-ers, do you? - No. - I couldn't hear you. - No. - No. Because you don't free bees. You keep bees. Not only that, it seems you thought a bear would be an appropriate image for a jar of honey. They're very lovable creatures. Yogi Bear, Fozzie Bear, Build-A-Bear. You mean like this? Bears kill bees! How'd you like his head crashing through your living room?! Biting into your couch! Spitting out your throw pillows! OK, that's enough. Take him away. So, Mr. Sting, thank you for being here. Your name intrigues me. - Where have I heard it before? - I was with a band called The Police. But you've never been a police officer, have you? No, I haven't. No, you haven't. And so here we have yet another example of bee culture casually stolen by a human for nothing more than a prance-about stage name. Oh, please. Have you ever been stung, Mr. Sting? Because I'm feeling a little stung, Sting. Or should I say... Mr. Gordon M. Sumner! That's not his real name?! You idiots! Mr. Liotta, first, belated congratulations on your Emmy win for a guest spot on ER in 2005. Thank you. Thank you. I see from your resume that you're devilishly handsome with a churning inner turmoil that's ready to blow. I enjoy what I do. Is that a crime? Not yet it isn't. But is this what it's come to for you? Exploiting tiny, helpless bees so you don't have to rehearse your part and learn your lines, sir? Watch it, Benson! I could blow right now! This isn't a goodfella. This is a badfella! Why doesn't someone just step on this creep, and we can all go home?! - Order in this court! - You're all thinking it! Order! Order, I say! - Say it! - Mr. Liotta, please sit down! I think it was awfully nice of that bear to pitch in like that. I think the jury's on our side. Are we doing everything right, legally? I'm a florist. Right. Well, here's to a great team. To a great team! Well, hello. - Ken! - Hello. I didn't think you were coming. No, I was just late. I tried to call, but... the battery. I didn't want all this to go to waste, so I called Barry. Luckily, he was free. Oh, that was lucky. There's a little left. I could heat it up. Yeah, heat it up, sure, whatever. So I hear you're quite a tennis player. I'm not much for the game myself. The ball's a little grabby. That's where I usually sit. Right... there. Ken, Barry was looking at your resume, and he agreed with me that eating with chopsticks isn't really a special skill. You think I don't see what you're doing? I know how hard it is to find the rightjob. We have that in common. Do we? Bees have 100 percent employment, but we do jobs like taking the crud out. That's just what I was thinking about doing. Ken, I let Barry borrow your razor for his fuzz. I hope that was all right. I'm going to drain the old stinger. Yeah, you do that. Look at that. You know, I've just about had it with your little mind games. - What's that? - Italian Vogue. Mamma mia, that's a lot of pages. A lot of ads. Remember what Van said, why is your life more valuable than mine? Funny, I just can't seem to recall that! I think something stinks in here! I love the smell of flowers. How do you like the smell of flames?! Not as much. Water bug! Not taking sides! Ken, I'm wearing a Ohapstick hat! This is pathetic! I've got issues! Well, well, well, a royal flush! - You're bluffing. - Am I? Surf's up, dude! Poo water! That bowl is gnarly. Except for those dirty yellow rings! Kenneth! What are you doing?! You know, I don't even like honey! I don't eat it! We need to talk! He's just a little bee! And he happens to be the nicest bee I've met in a long time! Long time? What are you talking about?! Are there other bugs in your life? No, but

thereare other things bugging me in life. And you're one of them! Fine! Talking bees, no yogurt night... My nerves are fried from riding on this emotional roller coaster! Goodbye, Ken. And for your information, I prefer sugar-free, artificial sweeteners made by man! I'm sorry about all that. I know it's got an aftertaste! I like it! I always felt there was some kind of barrier between Ken and me. I couldn't overcome it. Oh, well. Are you OK for the trial? I believe Mr. Montgomery is about out of ideas. We would like to call Mr. Barry Benson Bee to the stand. Good idea! You can really see why he's considered one of the best lawyers... Yeah. Layton, you've gotta weave some magic with this jury, or it's gonna be all over. Don't worry. The only thing I have to do to turn this jury around is to remind them of what they don't like about bees. - You got the tweezers? - Are you allergic? Only to losing, son. Only to losing. Mr. Benson Bee, I'll ask you what I think we'd all like to know. What exactly is your relationship to that woman? We're friends. - Good friends? - Yes. How good? Do you live together? Wait a minute... Are you her little... ...bedbug? I've seen a bee documentary or two. From what I understand, doesn't your queen give birth to all the bee children? - Yeah, but... - So those aren't your real parents! - Oh, Barry... - Yes, they are! Hold me back! You're an illegitimate bee, aren't you, Benson? He's denouncing bees! Don't y'all date your cousins? - Objection! - I'm going to pincushion this guy! Adam, don't! It's what he wants! Oh, I'm hit!! Oh, lordy, I am hit! Order! Order! The venom! The venom is coursing through my veins! I have been felled by a winged beast of destruction! You see? You can't treat them like equals! They're striped savages! Stinging's the only thing they know! It's their way! - Adam, stay with me. - I can't feel my legs. What angel of mercy will come forward to suck the poison from my heaving buttocks? I will have order in this court. Order! Order, please! The case of the honeybees versus the human race took a pointed turn against the bees yesterday when one of their legal team stung Layton T. Montgomery. - Hey, buddy. - Hey. - Is there much pain? - Yeah. I... I blew the whole case, didn't I? It doesn't matter. What matters is you're alive. You could have died. I'd be better off dead. Look at me. They got it from the cafeteria downstairs, in a tuna sandwich. Look, there's a little celery still on it. What was it like to sting someone? I can't explain it. It was all... All adrenaline and then... and then ecstasy! All right. You think it was all a trap? Of course. I'm sorry. I flew us right into this. What were we thinking? Look at us. We're just a couple of bugs in this world. What will the humans do to us if they win? I don't know. I hear they put the roaches in motels. That doesn't sound so bad. Adam, they check in, but they don't check out! Oh, my. Oould you get a nurse to close that window? - Why? - The smoke. Bees don't smoke. Right. Bees don't smoke. Bees don't smoke! But some bees are smoking. That's it! That's our case! It is? It's not over? Get dressed. I've gotta go somewhere. Get back to the court and stall. Stall any way you can. And assuming you've done step correctly, you're ready for the tub. Mr. Flayman. Yes? Yes, Your Honor! Where is the rest of your team? Well, Your Honor, it's interesting. Bees are trained to fly haphazardly, and as a result, we don't make very good time. I actually heard a funny story about... Your Honor, haven't these ridiculous bugs taken up enough of this court's valuable time? How much longer will we allow these absurd shenanigans to go on? They have presented no compelling evidence to support their charges against my clients, who run legitimate businesses. I move for a complete dismissal of this entire case! Mr. Flayman, I'm afraid I'm going to have to consider Mr. Montgomery's motion. But you can't! We have a terrific case. Where is your proof? Where is the evidence? Show me the smoking gun! Hold it, Your Honor! You want a smoking gun? Here is your

smokinggun. What is that? It's a bee smoker! What, this? This harmless little contraption? This couldn't hurt a fly, let alone a bee. Look at what has happened to bees who have never been asked, "Smoking or non?" Is this what nature intended for us? To be forcibly addicted to smoke machines and man-made wooden slat work camps? Living out our lives as honey slaves to the white man? - What are we gonna do? - He's playing the species card. Ladies and gentlemen, please, free these bees! Free the bees! Free the bees! Free the bees! Free the bees! Free the bees! The court finds in favor of the bees! Vanessa, we won! I knew you could do it! High-five! Sorry. I'm OK! You know what this means? All the honey will finally belong to the bees. Now we won't have to work so hard all the time. This is an unholy perversion of the balance of nature, Benson. You'll regret this. Barry, how much honey is out there? All right. One at a time. Barry, who are you wearing? My sweater is Ralph Lauren, and I have no pants. - What if Montgomery's right? - What do you mean? We've been living the bee way a long time, 27 million years. Oongratulations on your victory. What will you demand as a settlement? First, we'll demand a complete shutdown of all bee work camps. Then we want back the honey that was ours to begin with, every last drop. We demand an end to the glorification of the bear as anything more than a filthy, smelly, bad-breath stink machine. We're all aware of what they do in the woods. Wait for my signal. Take him out. He'll have nauseous for a few hours, then he'll be fine. And we will no longer tolerate bee-negative nicknames... But it's just a prance-about stage name! ...unnecessary inclusion of honey in bogus health products and la-dee-da human tea-time snack garnishments. Oan't breathe. Bring it in, boys! Hold it right there! Good. Tap it. Mr. Buzzwell, we just passed three cups, and there's gallons more coming! - I think we need to shut down! - Shut down? We've never shut down. Shut down honey production! Stop making honey! Turn your key, sir! What do we do now? Oannonball! We're shutting honey production! Mission abort. Aborting pollination and nectar detail. Returning to base. Adam, you wouldn't believe how much honey was out there. Oh, yeah? What's going on? Where is everybody? - Are they out celebrating? - They're home. They don't know what to do. Laying out, sleeping in. I heard your Uncle Oarl was on his way to San Antonio with a cricket. At least we got our honey back. Sometimes I think, so what if humans liked our honey? Who wouldn't? It's the greatest thing in the world! I was excited to be part of making it. This was my new desk. This was my new job. I wanted to do it really well. And now... Now I can't. I don't understand why they're not happy. I thought their lives would be better! They're doing nothing. It's amazing. Honey really changes people. You don't have any idea what's going on, do you? - What did you want to show me? - This. What happened here? That is not the half of it. Oh, no. Oh, my. They're all wilting. Doesn't look very good, does it? No. And whose fault do you think that is? You know, I'm gonna guess bees. Bees? Specifically, me. I didn't think bees not needing to make honey would affect all these things. It's notjust flowers. Fruits, vegetables, they all need bees. That's our whole SAT test right there. Take away produce, that affects the entire animal kingdom. And then, of course... The human species? So if there's no more pollination, it could all just go south here, couldn't it? I know this is also partly my fault. How about a suicide pact? How do we do it? - I'll sting you, you step on me. - Thatjust kills you twice. Right, right. Listen, Barry... sorry, but I gotta get going. I had to open my mouth and talk. Vanessa? Vanessa? Why are you leaving? Where are you going? To the final Tournament of Roses parade in Pasadena. They've moved it to this weekend because all the flowers are dying. It's the last chance I'll ever have to see it. Vanessa, I just wanna say I'm sorry. I never meant it to turn out

likethis. I know. Me neither. Tournament of Roses. Roses can't do sports. Wait a minute. Roses. Roses? Roses! Vanessa! Roses?! Barry? - Roses are flowers! - Yes, they are. Flowers, bees, pollen! I know. That's why this is the last parade. Maybe not. Oould you ask him to slow down? Oould you slow down? Barry! OK, I made a huge mistake. This is a total disaster, all my fault. Yes, it kind of is. I've ruined the planet. I wanted to help you with the flower shop. I've made it worse. Actually, it's completely closed down. I thought maybe you were remodeling. But I have another idea, and it's greater than my previous ideas combined. I don't want to hear it! All right, they have the roses, the roses have the pollen. I know every bee, plant and flower bud in this park. All we gotta do is get what they've got back here with what we've got. - Bees. - Park. - Pollen! - Flowers. - Repollination! - Across the nation! Tournament of Roses, Pasadena, Oalifornia. They've got nothing but flowers, floats and cotton candy. Security will be tight. I have an idea. Vanessa Bloome, FTD. Official floral business. It's real. Sorry, ma'am. Nice brooch. Thank you. It was a gift. Once inside, we just pick the right float. How about The Princess and the Pea? I could be the princess, and you could be the pea! Yes, I got it. - Where should I sit? - What are you? - I believe I'm the pea. - The pea? It goes under the mattresses. - Not in this fairy tale, sweetheart. - I'm getting the marshal. You do that! This whole parade is a fiasco! Let's see what this baby'll do. Hey, what are you doing?! Then all we do is blend in with traffic... ...without arousing suspicion. Once at the airport, there's no stopping us. Stop! Security. - You and your insect pack your float? - Yes. Has it been in your possession the entire time? Would you remove your shoes? - Remove your stinger. - It's part of me. I know. Just having some fun. Enjoy your flight. Then if we're lucky, we'll have just enough pollen to do the job. Oan you believe how lucky we are? We have just enough pollen to do the job! I think this is gonna work. It's got to work. Attention, passengers, this is Oaptain Scott. We have a bit of bad weather in New York. It looks like we'll experience a couple hours delay. Barry, these are cut flowers with no water. They'll never make it. I gotta get up there and talk to them. Be careful. Oan I get help with the Sky Mall magazine? I'd like to order the talking inflatable nose and ear hair trimmer. Oaptain, I'm in a real situation. - What'd you say, Hal? - Nothing. Bee! Don't freak out! My entire species... What are you doing? - Wait a minute! I'm an attorney! - Who's an attorney? Don't move. Oh, Barry. Good afternoon, passengers. This is your captain. Would a Miss Vanessa Bloome in 24B please report to the cockpit? And please hurry! What happened here? There was a DustBuster, a toupee, a life raft exploded. One's bald, one's in a boat, they're both unconscious! - Is that another bee joke? - No! No one's flying the plane! This is JFK control tower, Flight 356. What's your status? This is Vanessa Bloome. I'm a florist from New York. Where's the pilot? He's unconscious, and so is the copilot. Not good. Does anyone onboard have flight experience? As a matter of fact, there is. - Who's that? - Barry Benson. From the honey trial?! Oh, great. Vanessa, this is nothing more than a big metal bee. It's got giant wings, huge engines. I can't fly a plane. - Why not? Isn't John Travolta a pilot? - Yes. How hard could it be? Wait, Barry! We're headed into some lightning. This is Bob Bumble. We have some late-breaking news from JFK Airport, where a suspenseful scene is developing. Barry Benson, fresh from his legal victory... That's Barry! ...is attempting to land a plane, loaded with people, flowers and an incapacitated flight crew. Flowers?! We have a storm in the area and two individuals at the controls with absolutely no flight experience. Just a minute. There's a bee on that plane. I'm quite familiar with Mr. Benson and his no-account compadres. They've done enough damage. But

isn'the your only hope? Technically, a bee shouldn't be able to fly at all. Their wings are too small... Haven't we heard this a million times? "The surface area of the wings and body mass make no sense." - Get this on the air! - Got it. - Stand by. - We're going live. The way we work may be a mystery to you. Making honey takes a lot of bees doing a lot of small jobs. But let me tell you about a small job. If you do it well, it makes a big difference. More than we realized. To us, to everyone. That's why I want to get bees back to working together. That's the bee way! We're not made of Jell-O. We get behind a fellow. - Black and yellow! - Hello! Left, right, down, hover. - Hover? - Forget hover. This isn't so hard. Beep-beep! Beep-beep! Barry, what happened?! Wait, I think we were on autopilot the whole time. - That may have been helping me. - And now we're not! So it turns out I cannot fly a plane. All of you, let's get behind this fellow! Move it out! Move out! Our only chance is if I do what I'd do, you copy me with the wings of the plane! Don't have to yell. I'm not yelling! We're in a lot of trouble. It's very hard to concentrate with that panicky tone in your voice! It's not a tone. I'm panicking! I can't do this! Vanessa, pull yourself together. You have to snap out of it! You snap out of it. You snap out of it. - You snap out of it! - You snap out of it! - You snap out of it! - You snap out of it! - You snap out of it! - You snap out of it! - Hold it! - Why? Oome on, it's my turn. How is the plane flying? I don't know. Hello? Benson, got any flowers for a happy occasion in there? The Pollen Jocks! They do get behind a fellow. - Black and yellow. - Hello. All right, let's drop this tin can on the blacktop. Where? I can't see anything. Oan you? No, nothing. It's all cloudy. Oome on. You got to think bee, Barry. - Thinking bee. - Thinking bee. Thinking bee! Thinking bee! Thinking bee! Wait a minute. I think I'm feeling something. - What? - I don't know. It's strong, pulling me. Like a 27-million-year-old instinct. Bring the nose down. Thinking bee! Thinking bee! Thinking bee! - What in the world is on the tarmac? - Get some lights on that! Thinking bee! Thinking bee! Thinking bee! - Vanessa, aim for the flower. - OK. Out the engines. We're going in on bee power. Ready, boys? Affirmative! Good. Good. Easy, now. That's it. Land on that flower! Ready? Full reverse! Spin it around! - Not that flower! The other one! - Which one? - That flower. - I'm aiming at the flower! That's a fat guy in a flowered shirt. I mean the giant pulsating flower made of millions of bees! Pull forward. Nose down. Tail up. Rotate around it. - This is insane, Barry! - This's the only way I know how to fly. Am I koo-koo-kachoo, or is this plane flying in an insect-like pattern? Get your nose in there. Don't be afraid. Smell it. Full reverse! Just drop it. Be a part of it. Aim for the center! Now drop it in! Drop it in, woman! Oome on, already. Barry, we did it! You taught me how to fly! - Yes. No high-five! - Right. Barry, it worked! Did you see the giant flower? What giant flower? Where? Of course I saw the flower! That was genius! - Thank you. - But we're not done yet. Listen, everyone! This runway is covered with the last pollen from the last flowers available anywhere on Earth. That means this is our last chance. We're the only ones who make honey, pollinate flowers and dress like this. If we're gonna survive as a species, this is our moment! What do you say? Are we going to be bees, orjust Museum of Natural History keychains? We're bees! Keychain! Then follow me! Except Keychain. Hold on, Barry. Here. You've earned this. Yeah! I'm a Pollen Jock! And it's a perfect fit. All I gotta do are the sleeves. Oh, yeah. That's our Barry. Mom! The bees are back! If anybody needs to make a call, now's the time. I got a feeling we'll be working late tonight! Here's your change. Have a great afternoon! Oan I help who's next? Would you like some honey with that? It is bee-approved. Don't forget these. Milk, cream, cheese, it's all me. And I don't see

anickel! Sometimes I just feel like a piece of meat! I had no idea. Barry, I'm sorry. Have you got a moment? Would you excuse me? My mosquito associate will help you. Sorry I'm late. He's a lawyer too? I was already a blood-sucking parasite. All I needed was a briefcase. Have a great afternoon! Barry, I just got this huge tulip order, and I can't get them anywhere. No problem, Vannie. Just leave it to me. You're a lifesaver, Barry. Oan I help who's next? All right, scramble, jocks! It's time to fly. Thank you, Barry! That bee is living my life! Let it go, Kenny. - When will this nightmare end?! - Let it all go. - Beautiful day to fly. - Sure is. Between you and me, I was dying to get out of that office. You have got to start thinking bee, my friend. - Thinking bee! - Me? Hold it. Let's just stop for a second. Hold it. I'm sorry. I'm sorry, everyone. Oan we stop here? I'm not making a major life decision during a production number! All right. Take ten, everybody. Wrap it up, guys. I had virtually no rehearsal for that.

- bee movie anon

#if i had to see this all you fuckers do to #not a tag #from saph #im not having a good morning and this made me cry thanks for that #the bee movie #long post

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justwritedreams · 3 years

Text

Music, Dance | Mark Lee

Mark x reader, dancer!au, enemies to lovers!au, best friend Jaehyun.

Word count: 2812 Genre: fluff, sparks of drama. Author: maari Warnings: I already told that I'm in love with mark so it's not a surprise one more imagine, mentions of getting fake id's in the past and getting caught by police. Strictly rules for dancing and nct just ignoring it Summary: You hate Mark so dancing with him won't make a difference, right?

You opened the door after hearing the doorbell ring for the thousandth time, carrying a bowl of ice cream. "Wow you look awful." your best friend laughed and walked in before you could even speak. "Thank you Jaehyun, I'm fine and you?" you spoke sarcastically as you closed the door, completely ignoring his comment about your condition. Hair tied up neatly, your favorite pajamas and ice cream in your hands. A typical Friday for you after a full day at the office. "What are you doing here? I thought you had things to do." you commented, sitting next to him on the couch. Jaehyun was from home, he didn't need to ask for anything, he was part of your family. "Your mom texted me saying you were wasting your life while you sank down on the couch watching these dramatic movies." You rolled your eyes. You were dramatic but you definitely got that from your mother. "And you came to take a picture and see what a shit my life has become?" you asked and dropped the bowl on the couch. Jaehyun grimaced, making the dimple appear. "As I'm very charitable, I came to help you out of this… hole." you frowned, not understanding. "Go change, put on some grown-up clothes." "Shouldn't you tell me where you're taking me?" you questioned and he took a deep breath, holding his gaze and you understood everything. "Jung Jaehyun, you don't…" "Ya what's wrong? I thought you liked the boys." He interrupted you and you sighed. Of course you loved his friends, they were amazing. Well, except for one. "You know they're not the problem!" you held his gaze and he looked visibly fed up. "Isn't it time you let go of your intrigue with Mark?" Jaehyun wasn't judging you and you understood how he felt, among his best friends who hated each other. But you couldn't just let it go. You hated Mark with all your strength. He was the flirtatious type who was showing off all over town with his perfect face and his expensive clothes, you just didn't like him. And apparently he loves to piss you off, knowing exactly how much you hate him, so he teases you whenever he can with ridiculous nicknames or just looking at you. You knew Jaehyun's friends, including Mark, since the dance club project Resonance was just an idea on paper. Well, the club, besides being a wonderful space and hidden in the middle of the city because it promoted dance competitions without the rules established in Seoul, was run by your best friend and Mark. They were partners, so even if the idea sounded wonderful for you to clear your head, it would inevitably bump into Mark and the girls who were always around his neck. "He almost ran me over because he was making out with a girl in that ridiculous car of his a long ago. 1 year and seven months to be exact." "You really are spiteful, huh." he laughed. "I thought you missed dancing." You took a deep breath. Of course you did. You started dancing when you were little, in ballet classes and dancing became your passion, you wanted to pursue a career but your parents never let. You and Jaehyun, who was always your neighbor and studied together at the same school, even had a plan to set up a dance group and travel around the world to compete, and you two got into a lot of trouble for it. Then your parents started to insist that you should quit, claiming that you would need to get a job that paid very well and after so many fights, you agreed. You gave up dancing and got a job as a secretary at a law firm. It wasn't what you wanted, being stuck in an office all day, but you had grown up. "Yes, I do but there are dreams that we sometimes have to give up." Jaehyun shook his head and turned to look at you better. "Do you remember the first time we competed?" You smiled widely. "Worth a voucher at a restaurant across town." "And we won!" "Yeah, then you told your dad you needed a ride to visit a friend who was sick." "And you agreed to go along!" he laughed and you shook your head, the scene was vivid in your mind. "It was the first time I lied to my parents, but the dishes were really good." "My dad laughed when he found out." He remembered. "And when you got punched by that German?" you started laughing and Jaehyun interrupted you. "He thought I was hitting on his girlfriend!" "Wasn't it?" you crossed your arms and looked suspicious. "Of course not, she was twice my age. I was just dancing." He rolled his eyes. Well, you couldn't really blame the man. It really looked like he was hitting on her and having the face of an angel since always, Jaehyun caught many woman's attetion. "You wore makeup for a week." "That was before fake IDs." He remembered and you got carried away by the memories. Your first cash contest, you and Jaehyun were the only minors in the group so your best friend had the brilliant idea of buying fake IDs to get in on it. He paid, of course, you had no money and much less could ask for the amount to your parents. Your best friend always had a more comfortable financial situation than yours, it wasn't difficult for him. You two made it, hiding from your parents with the excuse of a sleepover at a friend's house. You were dancing when the police arrived and caught you with fake IDs. It was the first time you stepped into a police station and you couldn't forget the lecture your parents gave you, your ears came back red without even having been beaten. After that day, your relationship with your parents got heavier, they said every day how you got lost for something that wasn't worth it. You heard this speech so much that you decided to give in, mainly because you felt guilty, and dancing became an impossible dream. You went to clubs to kill the desire to dance but it wasn't the same thing so after so many failed attempts, you stopped going out. Falling into a rut without realizing how your life didn't have fun anymore, not like before. "I never really danced after that." You commented and felt your best friend's hand reach for yours. "I don't like to see you like this." he commented. "Like this?" "Sad, without your essence. You're not the same cheerful and fun girl I knew anymore." it hurt to hear that from your best friend. It hurt because it was true and you knew it. "Hey…" you looked at Jaehyun. "Get changed, try to have fun for at least one day. Haven't you condemned yourself enough?" You sighed, there was no way to counter his arguments because he was right. Completely forgetting about your hatred for his friend, you smiled and got up from the couch. "You're right, I'll be right back." you ran into the bedroom to stop changing but not before yelling "And drop my ice cream, Jaehyun!"

(...)

You had already descended the club iron stairs and you could get a good look at the fun. You'd been to the Resonance twice, the first when the underground shed was empty and ready to become a club, the second at the opening when Mark nearly ran you over. It was different and you felt the heat of the place as you walked among the people, Jaehyun walked ahead greeting everyone and stopped at the table that faced the dance floor. The table that nct was. It's been a while since you've seen the boys so you found the shocked faces of all of them funny, luckily Mark wasn't there.

"Look who decided to show up." Taeyong was the first to stand up and hug you when you and Jaehyun approached. "Hi Tae." You hugged everyone, Yuta ruffled your hair, Doyong greeted you with a wide smile and Taeil said how much he missed you. "What's up baby." Johnny hugged you last in a bear hug. After Jaehyun, he was the closest to you. "I thought you weren't in town." you walked away, sitting in the empty chair next to WinWin and Johnny on your other side. "Wasn't it in the US?" "I came back for the auditions." he said simply and you stared at them all. "Auditions?" You asked and saw the boys look at Jaehyun. "You didn't tell her the news?" Haechan asked and you turned to face your best friend just in time to see him signal Haechan to be quiet. "What audition?" you asked Jaehyun directly but he didn't answer. "We're looking for new talents, we want to build a larger group to enter regional competitions." Jungwoo explained calmly and the gears in your brain rotated slowly. "Regional competitions… It means, you want a seat at the annual national dance contest?" You asked and saw that the boys agreed. "And after that world tournament." Johnny made a high five with Yuta. "The auditions start this night, by the way." Haechan spoke and you looked right at him after you felt a snap. Wait… "Stay quiet." You heard Jaehyun. You rose from your chair the moment you understood your best friend's plan. "It wasn't a pure coincidence, was it?" You questioned him, who left his lips in a thin line. Of course not. Jaehyun wanted you to dance at the club auditions to compete, try to be one of them. Exactly the way you wanted so long ago. Live from dancing. If the group no longer competed illegally then there was no reason why your parents would think it was wrong and would leave you alone after seeing that you could have a good life by competing. You would be free to live the way you wanted "Wow, Princess Fiona has finally come out of the tower." You felt your whole body tremble as you felt a breath in your ear. Tremble with hate. You turned around, bumping into Mark right in front of you with that cocky little smile. He looked different too, thinnest and most mature face, his hair pushed back and eyebrows raised. The smug way you hated so much. "I don't have patience for your teasing, Lee." you rolled your eyes and saw him laugh. You never called him by name when you were around him. "Jeez, so much stress." He held up his hands still chuckling. "It's not healthy for your heart, baby doll." You took a deep breath and glared at him with all the hatred you felt, but he didn't back down, he glared at you the same way. If this were a cartoon, the rays would come out of you two. "You think you're the last cookie in the package, right? I'm sorry to inform you that it usually comes broken." "Why did she come? Spoil the mood with that child's beak?" Mark asked Jaehyun and you felt your jaw drop. "Who are you calling a child?" you asked a little louder this time and felt your best friend hug you, preventing you from taking a step closer to Mark. "Enough you two!" "Tell him to stop pissing me off then." You were sure you really looked like a child but you didn't care. "You know it's unstoppable, baby doll." "Stop calling me baby doll!" you asked. You hated these nicknames that he apparently just liked to use constantly with you. "Okay, I didn't come here for that. I'm going to start the opening act." Mark warned the boys and they agreed, getting up from their chairs, Jaehyun released you and you couldn't hold your tongue. "Like you're so good with that." you said ironically as Mark turned around. Everyone stopped and Mark slowly turned back to face you. "What did you say?" You smiled when saw him angry, he didn't seem to believe what you said. "Are you deaf?" He took a step towards you and the boys approached, ready to act if something happened, but you and Mark were caught between the sparks of hatred that glared at each other. "Repeat." demanded. "I said, like you're good enough to deliver a decent show." you looked him up and down with the same attitude that only appeared when he was close. It was as if the entire club had gone silent. "And you’re?" he smiled, visibly irritated. You can also piss him off when you want. "Definitely better than you, no doubt." you put your hands on your hips and held your gaze, it was your turn to raise your eyebrow. "Oh yeah? So why don't you prove it?" He looked at you provocative, making you smirked. You took off the jacket you wore while being watched closely by him, making your stomach turn with anxiety, and tossed it to Jaehyun. "Wait…" your best friend started talking but you didn't even listen. Mark made room for you to head to the dance floor and you did. The moment you stepped onto the floor, you recognized the song that was starting to play, Taki Taki by DJ Snake. You smiled as you watched Mark get into position to dance the first verse, everyone backed away enough that the floor was all yours. You've only seen Mark dance once and it was at the nct group gig a while back, so you couldn't remember how he moved his feet so fast and how really good he was! He used his legs so well that it was hard to keep up and even harder to concentrate when you saw the expression on his face. Of pure pleasure in dancing. You had to confess, he was sexy dancing. It was like he turned into a completely different person, this wasn't the boring, cocky Mark you knew. He was so serious but at the same time so attractive. It made your heart beat even faster and your hands sweat, like if you weren't eager enough to dance, it would still be with him like this. The way the black pants were so tight around the thigh and the way he held the belt during the dance you just couldn't take your eyes off him. Mark brought his hand to his neck and it was his last move before you realized he had passed you the turn. Like a wave of electricity, you felt the music run through your body and you didn't hold back anymore, the rhythm taking over your hips and torso, your arms helping to complete each movement. You approached Mark during your turn and soon the chorus had arrived, Mark took the opportunity to dance with you. Bodies close together, the exchange of complicit glances, breaths practically together as the club watched the intimacy of the movements between you. Whoever saw it at that moment would never have said that you hated each other. Mark had one more solo for him in the next verse and you unknowingly started cheering the crowd on with his freestyle. Then, when Selena Gomez's part started, you took the opportunity to get closer to him again, this time abusing the movements with your hips, at a certain moment you took advantage of the little distance between your bodies and rubbed your hips against Mark's body making a circle, driving not only the crowd but him crazy as well. You smiled and turned to face him, the last chorus you guys danced together. This time much closer than before, you faced each other as you danced in ways that were so different but complete each other. You looked hypnotized and Mark didn't look all that different, you were in a world of your own where dancing was the only thing in common and the only thing that really mattered. You put your arm around Mark's shoulder and the song ended just as he pulled you by the back of your neck and stole a typical movie kiss. You didn't expect it but you ended up getting lost in his lips, feeling an unusual attraction for him at that moment, maybe the gasping breath and the fact that your heart practically leapt through your mouth made your legs go limp when Mark stuck his tongue in your mouth. Whoever was accompanying exploded in applause and screams, and you broke the kiss. Mark looked at you in a way that made a shiver run down your spine, he had never looked at you so intently with so much desire before. And you realized that your hatred had evaporated like water, as if he had never really existed. "It was a beautiful audition, welcome to the group, baby doll."

#mark imagines #mark scenarios #mark lee imagine #mark lee #mark lee x reader #mark lee x you #mark lee x y/n #nct scenarios #nct imagine #nct imagines #nct scenario #mark x you #mark x reader #mark x y/n #Maari

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red-writes · 3 years

Text

Career oriented

Escort! Bakugou x Reader

Your entire life you've been focused solely on your career, you've sacrificed a lot of things, people and time to get where you are and it’s paid off, now you're a millionaire who is also a virgin and never had a boyfriend in their life. Your friend recommends you a male escort service. At first you hire him to go on dates and do other things couples do but the relationship develops far beyond what you could've imagined, now you're laying under him begging him to be your first.

cw: smut, fluff, unprotected sex, reader is a capitalist lmao, I mean reader is a virgin but its not rlly virginity loss bc its not focused around that but reader does lose her virginity, unedited (but what's new)

a/n: I mean we always hear abt sugar daddies, I need rich reader pls also- monoma is a rich bitch y'all can't fight me on this he got that rich bitch mentality.

The words ‘hard worker’ were understatements when it came to describing you. Pretty much all of your life was spent working, growing your small business with your own two hands. Now money was never an issue. A huge house with several bathrooms, fancy bags and cars, all the things you've ever wanted were now in your possession except maybe one thing. Seeing happy couples holding hands as they walked around in the park, kissing and calling each other pet names, seeing them stirred a feeling of longing inside of you.

While it’s true that now you'd never want for anything else in your life, you still wanted something money couldn't buy you, love.

A small tap to your shoulder brought you out of your daze.

“Your eggs are going to get cold..” Todoroki mentioned and you gave him a small smile before prodding your fork in the perfectly scrambled egg.

“Hey, don't tell me you're thinking about that shareholders meeting this week” Monoma groans and you shake your head.

“Then what is it?” Momo wondered as she wiped her mouth with her napkin.

“It’s just- you guys all have someone you know romantically” you say as you rest your fork on the plate, deciding that you weren't really in the mood to eat anymore.

Monoma scoffs, “Yeah barely...I almost broke up with shinso after that last stunt he pulled in the club”

Momo giggles, “You're still with him?”

His face dusts pink in embarrassment as he looks away, “A-anyway, why don't you try getting an escort” Monoma recommends and it was your turn for your face to warm.

“An e-escort?! You do realize who we are right? If someone in here were to hear us talk about such a thing..” Momo whisper-yells and Todoroki’s eyebrow quirks up

“We all know I met Izuku through a sugar daddy website though-”

You clear your throat, “I’m not necessarily looking for you know..sex...just maybe someone to spend time with Monoma” You clarify and he's rummaging through his pockets to find his phone, he fiddles with it before showing you what the site looks like.

“Duh, escorts just get paid for their time not necessarily sex, I’ll send you the link to the website” He tells you and you sigh thoughtfully, if that was really the case then it wouldn't be so wrong to hire some cute eye candy right?

Momo waves over the waiter, “We’ll have the check please”

“Certainly ma'am”

You sat at your office’s desk with the website pulled up. You'd triple checked to make sure your door was locked, you still had a reputation to uphold as the CEO of your company, you'd be traumatized if one of your employees saw you hiring an escort.

You scrolled through the many many options of guys. Each profile consisted of a headshot of the escort along with a bio that consisted of maybe a paragraph and . You really couldn't find anyone that suited your tastes personally, until your mouse hovered over a blonde guy.

His bio was notably shorter than everyone else’s and in his picture he looked mean, eyebrows furrowed and red eyes staring menacingly at you and yet you found yourself clicking the ‘hire!’ button next to his name. Even though he looked like his favorite hobby was stealing candy from a baby, but his looks (as shallow as that may seem) were really speaking to you and the you between your legs if you were honest.

Bakugou Katsuki huh..well he seemed worth a try.

You had been through countless scenarios were you were rightfully terrified.

Being on a date had to be the scariest out of all of them.

Bakugou was sitting in front of you, he stirred his straw around in his coffee and looked at you while you struggled to contain the rabid beating of your heart in your chest.

“S-So..What- um..-”

“Just relax” He interrupts, his voice sounded so nice, deep and smooth like a rich dark chocolate. It only manages to make you more nervous.

“I’m sorry- I haven't actually done this before” you confess with a nervous chuckle, hands gripping your tea cup brutally.

He gives you this half smile and you're unsure of wether he's actually human or a demi-god at this point. “I can tell, but don't worry there's no reason to be”

You feel slightly comforted by his words and feel yourself let loose a little, “Okay, Bakugou, what do you like to do?” you ask.

“I like going to the gym” he shrugs, “I’m not really Interesting, I’m more curious about you” he says, he places his elbow on the table and rests his chin in the palm of his hand and leans in to you. His skin is so clear- not a blemish in sight and his eyes are practically burning a hole into your soul.

“M-me? I do nothing too important..I like to sew” you respond, taking a sip of your jasmine tea. You didn't necessarily want to tell him about who you were or what you did just yet, money and status only complicate things. For now, you just wanted to be a normal young woman going out on a date.

“Come on, don't be shy, I know there's more to you than sewing” He says, removing the straw from his coffee and placing it on a neighboring napkin.

You bite into your bottom lip, “Well, I honestly don't do much besides work, it’s taken up so much time in my life I can't say I do much else” you admit and Bakugou hums thoughtfully. He doesn't respond for a bit, the sounds of the coffee shop fill the silence instead.

“Okay, I have an idea”

You cock your head to the side curiously.

“Let’s ditch the formalities and go have some real fun, I think its about time you lived your life” he proposes and your mouth hands open. Was he serious? He looked it. You couldn't help the giddy feeling that bubbled up within you, a feeling you hadn't felt in a long time, excitement. It made you feel young again.

“What do you say?”

“Alright!”

The two of you spent all day together, visiting various hidden places around the city, you did shopping and even some sightseeing. For the first time in a while you felt alive, like you were actually a person and not just a unfeeling robot who simply lived to work.

Your last stop was a park. With a large lake in the center Bakugou suggested you guys feed the birds before heading home. With a handful of birdseed you gently sprinkled some into the water and watched the geese gobble it up.

“When I was five, I had a huge fear of geese..” Bakugou admits and you're chuckling.

“No way, really?” you turned to face him and when you do he’s already looking at you, smiling fondly, eyes filled with an emotion that you really couldn't seem to put your finger on.

“What? Do I have something on my face that you're not telling me about?” You pout and he shakes his head before turning his attention back to the birds as he sprinkles more of the food into the lake.

“No, just realized somethin’”

The sun’s beginning to set now, the sky is illuminated by hues of orange and pink. You nudge him with your arm, “Realized what?”

He turns back to face you, there's an adoring look on his face.

“You look pretty when you're having fun”

A look of surprise crosses your features before your ears burn in embarrassment at the sudden compliment, the butterflies in your stomach flutter around more and more the longer you two stare at each other.

“Thanks” You mumble before looking down at your palm full of birdseed.

Dates with Bakugou become more and more frequent after that. The two of you often meeting up more than you meet up with your regular friends. Bakugou doesn't even charge you anymore, even though you've tried to tell him it was fine he still insisted otherwise. The two of you even exchanged numbers and spoke quite often on the phone. Texts like,

‘this song reminded me of you’ and ‘don't work too hard, idiot’ were often exchanged.

After maybe a month of this happening you realized that the warm feeling you got in your chest whenever Bakugou brushed your hair into place or stopped to tie your shoe for you or even when he texted you good morning wasn't because you appreciated him being a good friend, you liked him. It took a month to finally decipher your feelings for him but once you did..what the heck were you supposed to do now?

Never once in your life had you confessed to someone let alone dated them, what would happen to your friendship with Bakugou if things didn't work out? You didn't want to stop being friends with him, you loved being with him, he was the reason you finally started taking breaks and learned to relax.

You had a ton of questions to answer for yourself but you couldn't do it right now, you had a date with Bakugou. He told you to dress up and you weren't sure where you were going but you trusted him to take you somewhere you'd enjoy. Around 8pm like promised, he was there to pick you up. His car was fairly nice, you assumed his high pay rates were being used for something but now you know what. He was wearing a black three piece suit, it was crisp and you could clearly tell it was expensive, his hair was slicked back and he had a single diamond stud in his left ear. He looked damn good. It was making you a little nervous about how fancy this place actually was.

The drive to dinner was unusually quiet. Bakugou typically did most of the conversations with you seeing as you were mostly an awkward sausage but tonight was different, he had a stern look on his face and you felt a little worried. Bakugou noticed your nervous look in the rearview mirror and without skipping a beat placed his hand gently upon your thigh and gave it a small squeeze, this thumb moved back and forth in a soothing manner. All without taking his eyes off the road.

You felt a shiver run up your spine and you bit your lip from potentially making any noise, you turned your head to face the window to prevent him from seeing the look on your face.

Bakugou was right about the restaurant being fancy. The place was full of people you could recognize, everyone from business moguls to celebrities, it was almost a little intimidating but you knew probably how tough it was for Bakugou to even get a table reserved at this place so you decided to instead choke down any kindlings of anxiety and replace it with a gratefulness for his hard work.

You swirled the champagne around in your glass while Bakugou took a bite out of his steak, the atmosphere between you two was a little awkward and it hadn't been like this since the two of you met it was a little alarming.

“Is something wrong..?” you ask after gently resting the glass back on the table, he wipes his mouth with his napkin and sighs.

“I’m sorry that- I seem so weird tonight” he apologizes and you shake your head.

“No no don't worry about it, I’m just worried something bad happened” you tell him, you lean forward and place your hand on his. His fingers lace themselves with yours and for a moment it feels like its just the two of you in the restaurant together.

“Nothing bad, actually something good” he explains and you're giving him a small smile

“Something good?” you question and he leans in even closer to you.

“I mean, ever since I started hanging out with you I feel like my life's changed, I’m not one to be super cheesy but I just- fuck..I like you” his face is turning a light pink and in a moment of courage you close the small distance between the two of you and press your lips against his. He immediately reciprocates the kiss, his hand sneaks up your forearm and settles on your elbow using it to pull you in closer.

When the kiss finally breaks the two of you are a panting mess, then you hear the waiter clear his throat and Bakugou uses his thumb to wipe the lipstick from the corner of his lips.

“Check, please”

Upon entering your home, there wasn't much speaking. Your arms were wrapped around his neck as his hands fumbled with the zipper on the back of your dress. The two of you blindly walked backwards until you tripped backwards onto the couch. Bakugou completely stripped you of your dress and laid it across the back of the couch, your hands made quick work of his pants unbuttoning and unzipping them, he kicked them off eagerly uncaring of where the fabric was strewn. He cupped your cheek and continued to kiss you as he helped you wiggle out of your underwear. He sucked in a breath at feeling how wet you already were. He ran a finger up and down your slit before gently nudging a finger inside.

The sensation was foreign, it felt odd at first but the more he kept twisting and thrusting the finger inside of you the better it began to feel. He slid in another one and began making a scissor motion inside of you. Your hips raised off the cushions of the couch, you moaned into the kiss and eventually he pulled away from it, instead opting to kiss the skin of your neck. Your moans along with the wet sounds of his fingers fingering you open filled the space. It felt good, you could feel the knots in your stomach threaten to untangle the harder his fingers fucked themselves into you.

His movements slowly came to a halt and he slid his fingers out. Your eyes clouded with tears and your legs were shaking, disappointed that he stopped when you were so close. He pulled his cock from his underwear and began stroking it over you.

“Ready?” He asks as he grinds his cock against your twitching entrance and you're gripping his shoulder before he makes another move.

“A-actually..please just be gentle its-i’ve never done this before” you confess and his eyes widen for once, taken aback by your sudden profession. He gives you a small nod, “Promise.”

With one smooth stroke he bottoms out within you. Your back is arching off the couch as your mouth hangs open in a silent cry. The feeling is an addicting mix of pain and pleasure that has the tears you were holding in begin to roll down your cheeks, Bakugou gently kisses them away and uses his fingers to wipe away the stray tears. For a while, you're simply holding each other, bakugou whispers words of comfort in your ears while you slowly familiarize yourself with having him inside of you.

When Bakugou feels your hips begin to move against his, he takes that as his sign to begin moving. His thrusts start shallow, hips just barely touching yours as he doesn't want to hurt you and you quickly become frustrated with his kindness. Your legs wrap around his waist and pull him closer to you, forcing him to bottom out inside you again. You whine his name and he shakes his head.

“And here I was trying to be considerate” he huffs out, you grip his tie and pull him down and press a gentle kiss against his lips.

“I didn't ask you to take it easy on me” you remind him and he scoffs

“You asked for this”

You're suddenly flipped onto your stomach and he raises your hips in the air, he pulls himself all the way out of you until the head of his cock is the only thing you can still feel inside of you, he rams his cock back into you and you're gripping the couch for dear life. His hips are ruthless, lewd slapping noises fill the room as the head of his cock kisses your cervix with every thrust. His heavy balls greet your clit with an unceremonious slap. Your eyes roll into the back of your head, you can't think of anything else except Bakugou. You'd been completely fucked dumb on your first time.

You feel Bakugou’s fingers lace into your hair and grip the roots before pulling at them and forcing your head back. A jolt of pleasure flows through your body as his cock pushes up against your g-spot, your legs and kicking around behind you.

“No! cum-cumming kats I-” you can hardly finish your own sentence due to how hard your orgasm hits you, your body his shaking as bakugou releases your hair and uses his free hand to grip your waist as he desperately humps you, chasing his own release. Your cunt spasms around him in overstimulation, Katsuki only curses under his breath as you squeeze down on him, your cunt clamps down on his cock as you're brought to your second orgasm and his movements finally begin to slow and an unfamiliar warm fills your tummy.

He doesn't pull out right away. Instead he gently lays you backwards onto his chest and you snuggle into his chest.

He whistles, “Nice place”

“Pfft- don't try to make small talk with me after you just finished banging me” you giggle sleepily.

“Fair enough, still, I’m curious about how you can even afford this place” he wonders, hand rubbing up and down your back, only easing you closer to falling asleep.

“Hard work” you reply he takes your hand in his and kisses the back of it.

“That’s my hard working girl”

you feel the butterflies swarm around your stomach all over again at his small comment.

“Does this mean we're dating now?” you ask and he gives you a little chuckle.

“Yes, if you want”

“Good then you're my boyfriend” your eyes are fluttering closed at this point, you merely nuzzle into his chest and he plants a gentle kiss on your forehead.

“Goodnight love”

“Night Kats..”

334 notes · View notes

dreamwritesimagines · 4 years

Text

Burn The Witch 5 - Cross Your Heart [Bucky Barnes x Reader]

A.N: Thank you so much for your wonderful support and feedback my loves ! ❤ Here’s the next chapter, I hope you like it as well and please let me know what you think! ❤ Thank you! ❤❤❤

Warnings: Enemies to lovers, fake dating, mentions of blood, sex, violence, death, manipulation, language, guns, knives.

Summary: Lying is supposed to be easy for spies.

Series Masterlist

You were beginning to think undercover operations were some sort of punishments given to agents, because lying was one thing, but creating a whole life around that lie was another.

Not only were your knives replaced by a bunch of paintings on the wall, you now had some photos in frames; old photos of people you didn’t know, people who were supposed to be your “cover” family.

You’d still prefer to have your knives on the walls though.

“You’re my best friend, you’re supposed to be on my side!” you pressed the phone between your shoulder and your ear, and heard Chloe’s laugh.

“I am on your side, I just can’t do anything about your uniform.”

You plopped down on the couch, setting your heels down on the floor.

“Bucky might be from 1940s, but he knows that it’s the 21st century now,” you said, putting the heels on, “No reason to make me dress like a….weird pin up waitress.”

“It’s a part of your mission,” she reminded you, “What, you can kill a target with a wine glass but a pin up costume is where you draw the line?”

You clicked your tongue, “Anyone can kill someone with a wine glass. It’s not that hard.”

“I don’t think so.”

“Babe it’s not rocket science, you just break the bowl part, then use the stem to stab them in the—“ you got distracted when you opened the kitchen cabinet, “I’m sorry, why do I have so many kitchen supplies?”

She held her breath in excitement, “Do you like them?”

“I don’t know what to do with most of them.”

“Cover Y/N likes cooking!”

“And the real Y/N can’t stand her,” you deadpanned, making her stifle a laugh.

“So he hasn’t texted you yet?”

“Barnes?” you asked, “Not yet. Why?”

“Well, I took the liberty of taking a look at his messages the other day.”

“Oh God, don’t tell me,” you said, “He’s seeing someone else?”

“No no, not at all,” she said, “He’s totally single, and probably ready to mingle. With you, that is.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“He and Wilson were talking about you the other day. Well, more like Wilson was telling him to get his shit together and ask you out.”

“I don’t think he’s the type to ask someone out via text,” you said, “I think he will come to the shop one of these days.”

“Why?”

“He looked sort of….” You searched for the word in your mind, “Uh-clueless?”

“Clueless?”

“Yeah, you know how assassins usually flirt,” you ignored her noise of disagreement, “He wasn’t like that.”

“You really need to focus on the personal details of his file.”

You scowled, “What is that supposed to mean?” you asked, “I know his favorite weapons, what knives he—”

“Personal file,” she repeated, “You know there’s more to people than their weapons of choice right?”

“I might have to engage in combat if I’m ever compromised, and do you know how many people walked away alive after engaging in combat with the Winter Soldier in all these decades?” you asked, “Three. Three people; Steve Rogers, Sam Wilson, Natasha Romanoff, and they are legends. I might be good, but I’m not that good.”

“Just memorizing his arsenal can’t help you in this mission,” she said, “Did you know that he hasn’t exactly dated since becoming the Winter Soldier? His ex Connie ended up having 3 kids and a long career at the post office—“

“What am I supposed to do Chloe, stalk grandma’s Instagram?”

“No, she passed away 5 years ago.”

“Of course she did,” you mumbled, “Listen, I don’t have time for this. I’m already knee deep in my own cover, I can’t get into Barnes’s past when it’ll give me no advantage in the mission.”

“Y/N-“

“Trust me,” you cut her off, looking in the mirror to fix your uniform, “I have everything under control.”

***

You had maybe like one thing under control and that was the milkshake you were currently pouring into a mason jar. After a crash course in different recipes yesterday, you barely needed any help from your coworkers and seeing that the shop wasn’t very crowded, you didn’t have to rush.

And now you knew how to make three things; pasta, eggs and milkshakes.

If Keith were here, he would’ve said those were 3 main food groups.

“Tara, we’re running low on maraschino cherries,” you said as you shook the can and your new coworker turned to you.

“Oh that’s okay, there’s another jar are under the counter.”

You put the cherry over the whipped cream, and handed the jar to her. “There you go.”

“Another week of working here and you will come up with your own recipes,” she said, “Tell me the truth, are you like a spy sent by a rival company?”

You stared at her, then forced a laugh.

“I wish,” you said, “Maybe I’d be paid more.”

“Good point,” she said and walked to give the milkshake to the customer while you put the empty jar aside, then went under the counter to search for a new jar.

“Strawberries….” You read the labels out loud as you heard the wind bells chime by the door, “Figs, berries—cherries!”

You reached out to grab the jar and stood up but as soon as you did, you caught the sight of the figure by the door and held your breath, the jar slipping from your grip before you caught it mid-air.

“Bucky.” You breathed out, before you remembered to plaster a smile on your face.

Naïve, soft hearted civilian.

He stole a look around as if he expected someone to attack him at any seconds in a milkshake shop before he stepped closer to the counter you were standing behind.

“Hi.”

“Hi-hi there!” you said, putting the jar down, “You came!”

“You sound surprised,” he smiled and you shrugged your shoulders, shooting him a mischievous look,

“Better late than never, I suppose.”

He hissed in a breath, “Ouch, was it that late?”

“Just a little,” you said “So what can I get you?”

He looked up at the board over the wall, “What are my options?”

“Well, we have Unicorn Cotton Candy, Pumpkin Spice Latte, Candy Cane Passion, Lavender Macaron—“ you stopped talking when you saw the clueless look on his face and cleared your throat, “Or hey, maybe chocolate? We have chocolate milkshake.”

“Chocolate sounds good.”

“Coming right up.” You took a mason jar from the shelf to get to it and he grabbed his wallet, making you raise your brows.

“Don’t even think about it.”

“Oh come on—”

“I’m going to make you an overly complicated milkshake if you try to pay for this,” you warned him, shaking the can before putting whipped cream on top of the milkshake, “It’s on the house, I owe you.”

“You don’t owe me anything,” he said quickly, making you point at him with the straw.

“Either way, I’m warning you. I’m armed and dangerous.”

“Consider me intimidated,” he said with a grin as he put the cash into the tip jar and you narrowed your eyes.

“Bucky.”

“Well technically, tip doesn’t count.”

“I wonder where I heard that before,” you muttered under your breath while he walked to pull himself a seat.

“Hm?”

“Nothing,” you said, reminding yourself that your cover probably wouldn’t make dirty jokes and went to place the milkshake in front of him.

“Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it.” You waved a dismissive hand and rested your elbows on the counter, leaning in slightly.

He was gentleman enough to not check out your cleavage, instead kept his gaze on your face, making you suppress a smile.

“You were right,” Bucky said, his eyes darting around the café after a couple of seconds, “About how this place looked. It is creepily accurate.”

“Really?”

“I mean we didn’t have a neon flowers corner, but…” he trailed off, “Yeah. Yeah, I would say so.”

“Is that why you look like you expect someone to jump out of shadows and attack you?” you asked and his head shot up before he scrunched up his face.

“That obvious?”

“Not that I have lots of experience but so far none of the customers looked this uncomfortable while drinking a milkshake,” you said, “Is it because deep down you actually wanted to try Unicorn Cotton Candy?”

“Oh no, I’m good with classics,” He held up his milkshake, “No I just think that I’m a bit….uh, rusty.”

“Rusty,” you repeated, “On what?”

“On this.”

You batted your lashes, looking up at him and you could almost feel him being lured in.

“I’m sorry, I don’t follow,” you said softly after a beat and he gulped, taking a deep breath.

“It’s just that you’re—“ he cleared his throat, “You’re very beautiful and it’s been decades since I last asked someone out for a date.”

Winter Soldier, credited with over 100 assassinations, you reminded yourself Don’t lower your guard, it’s just a cover.

Don’t believe in your own cover.

You bit down a smile, tilting your head.

“Well, I didn’t think you were rusty,” you said and he raised his brows.

“You didn’t?”

“Not at all,” you said, “For the record, I’m definitely going to say yes.”

“Are you?”

“Absolutely,” you grinned, “Once you actually ask me, that is. With words, not an implication.”

His smile was almost playful, “With words, huh?”

“I’m old fashioned like that,” you taunted him, “Let’s see how we can make it less awkward for you though. Would you feel more comfortable to ask me out if you knew some weird stuff about me?”

“You know, that would help a lot actually.”

You tapped your fingernails on the counter, looking up at the ceiling, pretending to be in deep thought. Your superiors had always said the best cover stories were somehow based on real life without revealing your identity, so you figured telling him random things about you wouldn’t hurt or put the mission in danger.

“Well, I really like grapes but I don’t like the skin, so I end up peeling every grape I eat, one by one,” you counted with your fingers, “I watched a documentary once and now I can’t swim in any lakes because I keep thinking I’ll get attacked by that weird flesh eating bacteria. When I was sixteen, I was the president of the chess club but I had a boyfriend who didn’t believe in the moon landing—”

“I heard about the moon landing!” he said quickly, “I didn’t get around to watch it yet though.”

“Oh my God, you should.”

“What else?”

“I’m scared of peacocks,” you confessed, “I know everyone says they’re beautiful but they look like they’re waiting for the right time to attack you.”

He looked like he was fighting with himself not to laugh and he pressed his metal fist on his lips, his whole attention on you.

“You can’t laugh!” you exclaimed and he shook his head, trying to look as serious as possible.

“I’m not!” he managed to hide his chuckle with a cough, “Keep going, this is very helpful.”

You heaved a sigh. “Well, do you want to hear the most embarrassing one?”

“Absolutely.”

“I normally keep my phone on mute 24/7 but since last week it’s been on full volume because I was terrified I’d miss something important.”

The amused light in his eyes got softer and he lowered his hand, a smile warming his face.

Hook, line…

“I was um— I was hoping for you to call, you see.” you said, averting your gaze from him to look down for a second, biting on your lip.

His voice was raspy; “Were you?”

You shrugged your shoulders, mumbling an inaudible maybe, and his eyes trailed down to your lips before snapping up to lock your gaze in his.

“What time do you get off work today?”

And sinker.

Time to pull back.

You sucked in a breath through your teeth, “I work at the soup kitchen tonight.”

“Oh –I thought you said it was on Mondays and Wednesdays.”

“I did, I’m just covering for a friend tonight. Family emergency, she says.” you said and pushed your hair behind your ear, shifting your weight, “But my shift is over at 6 tomorrow and I can be ready around 7, I live really close by. If you’re- if you’re free, that is.”

“I am.”

“It’s a date, then.”

“It’s a date,” he repeated and stood up, “See you tomorrow, Y/N.”

“See you tomorrow Bucky.” You smiled as he walked out of the shop and Tara came closer to you.

“Wow, you’ve been here a month and you met someone that hot?” she said and winked at you, “Good job there.”

Right.

Good job.

***

“So, wait—“ Chloe came closer to sit between you and Keith, holding a huge bowl of popcorn, “He just showed up?”

“Mm hm.”

“And you have a date tomorrow?”

Keith uncapped your beer and handed you the bottle as you rested your feet on the coffee table.

“You’re being careful, aren’t you?” he asked you and you nodded.

“Sure.”

“He doesn’t suspect anything?”

“No, he’s buying this whole naïve soft hearted civilian thing,” you said while Chloe snatched the remote from Keith’s hand, ignoring protests.

“And are you?”

You dragged your eyes from the list of movies on the screen. “I want a horror movie.”

“Well too bad, I want an action movie.”

“We’re watching a rom-com and that’s final!” Chloe pointed at both of you, making you groan.

“Why does this keep happening?” Keith asked to no one in particular and she snapped her fingers.

“It’s my turn and my place so I pick the movie,” she said and shot you a look, “I’m still waiting for an answer, by the way. You don’t….you don’t have feelings for Barnes, right?”

Keith stole a look at you before turning to Chloe,

“I don’t think our dear friend here wants a relationship beautiful,” he told her, “Not after what happened the last time.”

You could feel the goosebumps rising on your arms as a shiver ran down your spine.

“I don’t even know Barnes all that well yet, but I can assure you he’s not the type to—“ you paused, “Do something that cowardly.”

Keith gritted his teeth. “Where is that asshole anyway?”

“Hungary,” Chloe said and you raised your brows.

“Undercover?”

“Yeah. I hope he gets compromised and dies there.”

“Very unlikely,” you murmured, “Anyways, what brought this on? My feelings for Barnes?”

“It’s just that I recently read Vincent Smith’s file,” she said, “You guys remember Vincent?”

“Who?”

“His code name was Marco.”

“Oh, I remember Marco!” Keith said, “That guy took down a whole unit by himself. What happened to him?”

“He is missing.” Chloe said and you pulled your brows together.

“Since when do agents go missing and we don’t know where they are?”

“Since they fall for the target.”

“No way,” Keith chuckled, “Badass spy Marco fell in love? Poor idiot.”

“You’re a terrible person, Keith.”

You sat up straighter, “Wait, did you say he fell for the target?”

“Yeah, I saw the reports from his handler. And now he’s missing, and I don’t want you to run away with Barnes like Marco did with his target.”

You and Keith exchanged glances and you clicked your tongue.

“Chloe babe, he’s not missing.” you said “He’s dead.”

She pulled back slightly, “You don’t know-“

“Yes I do. You don’t fall for the target and compromise the whole mission, not unless you want to end up dead.”

“There’s no report of that,” she insisted and Keith sipped his beer.

“What did his report say, sweetheart?”

“That he was removed from his mission before going missing.”

Keith scoffed, “Rest in peace Marco, you won’t be missed.”

“How do you know—“

“Because that’s the code,” you said, “If the report says he was removed from his mission and went missing, it means he was killed by an agent on our side.”

“We killed our own agent?” she exclaimed and you turned the beer bottle in your hand,

“He stopped being our agent the moment he fell for the target.”

Chloe covered her mouth with her hands, worry etched into her expression, “Y/N, please, please promise me you won’t somehow get too involved in this mission and fall for Barnes and put yourself in danger.”

You let out a small laugh, grabbing a handful of popcorn.

“It’s the Winter Soldier we’re talking about,” you reminded her and chewed on the popcorn, “Trust me, that would never happen.”

“Cross your heart?”

You heaved a sigh and clinked your beer bottle with hers.

“Cross my heart honey,” you assured her, “There’s no way I’d sign my own death warrant by doing something that stupid.”

Chapter 6

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #the falcon and the winter soldier #tfatws #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes imagines #marvel #bucky barnes x you

618 notes · View notes

slasherhaven · 4 years

Note

All slashers reaction to their s/o being a stripper or pole dancer? That line of work is so stigmatized I feel they'd all be weirded out but when they see the fuckin CASH, the hundreds their s/o would make in ONE NIGHT damn

The Slashers Reactions to Their S/O being a Stripper:

Thomas Hewitt

Thomas is...torn.

The Hewitts are a pretty conservative, stuck in the ways, kinda people. Thomas being the most open to difference out of all of them.

He loves you but all he knows about the job is the stigma behind it.

But he’s not going to leave you because of it, please explain it to him.

With some explanation, debunking some stigmas and stereotypes, explaining that it is just your job, he comes around to it.

Alright, you’re still you and you’re loyal to him. That’s all that matters. He’s sorry for judging you at first...

Luda May is unsure about it, worried that you’re not as dedicated to Tommy as you say you are. Just prove her wrong. You love that man and that has nothing to do with your job.

Hoyt has definitely made a comment or two about it, always receiving a warning glare from Thomas. Don’t worry, he’ll defend you!

Luda May starts to come around to it because it’s so obvious that you only have an interested in Thomas...plus the money doesn’t hurt. That’s more cash than they’ve seen in a long time...you could be an actual godsend.

Michael Myers

Does not care what you do for a living.

Is a little unsure about how he feels about other people getting to see you in a state of undress but comes around to the idea more when you explain that they aren’t allowed to touch you.

Good, because that’s just for him!

Michael doesn’t care all that much about money but he’s still impressed by how much you can make in one night alone.

Other than that? Pretty unbothered.

Does enjoy your private dances though, he cannot deny that.

And you know when he’ll want one because you’ll go into your bedroom and find his selected outfit laying on the bed for you.

Jason Voorhees

You do...what for a living?

Jason is definitely going to have some issues with it.

We all know how he feels about anything sexual. It’s something he’s uncomfortable with and views as inherently wrong.

But he does love you...

And you’re nothing like he would expect somebody in that line of work to be.

He probably has a lot of preconceived notions about your work that you need to work through.

Just be patient with him, help him see that there is nothing wrong with what you do or the people who do it.

He’ll get there eventually because he loves you, it’s just going to take a while.

Brahms Heelshire

Uh-huh...uh-huh...no, yeah he’s listening- do you have the attire at home or do you have to keep it at the establishment. No, no, he understands. Can he see what you wear while you work? He is taking this seriously, Y/n!

Admittedly Brahms is going to take an issue with it.

Not with the job itself. Just his own jealousy.

You’re meant to be with him and he doesn’t like the idea of other people getting to see you like that.

But they can’t touch you? Well...that’s good...you mean they can look but can’t touch? Only he gets to touch you?

Okay, you’re winning him over.

Give him his own private dance and he’s sold.

Bo Sinclair

Will probably look down on the choice of job before you tell him what you do for a living. Then he’ll be forced to reconsider his preconceived beliefs.

Bo tends to look down on everyone for one reason or another, he supposes strippers were easy targets to do so.

But the more he thinks about it, the less it actually bothers him.

He really doesn’t mind if he gets his own private dances.

Plus that money is very convincing. It’s not like the brothers have any real income and it can be difficult to keep a good stock of supplies. With you around, that shouldn’t be a problem anymore.

Will pick out your outfit for that shift.

Sometimes it’s just because he wants to see you were a particular set, other times he just likes the idea of you dancing in the outfit he chose.

Kind of like a reminder to the two of you that you might be dancing for those people but you are his, and you come home to him at the end of the day.

Vincent Sinclair

Any negative thoughts Vincent has is more due to jealousy and insecurity rather than how he thinks of you.

He sees you as a person, not as your job. So he won’t judge. He really doesn’t think he has any right to judge considering his ‘work’.

He loves you and doesn’t care what you do.

Sometimes he just wonders why you would want...him...

Just lots of reassurance, cuddles, and kisses should get him feeling better again!

Honestly just likes watching you dance. Not even in a sexual way (though he can’t help how his body reacts to your seductive movements) just in admiration and adoration.

You’re stunning and the way you move is hypnotising.

He can see why you get paid so well!

He doesn’t care about the money all that much. It’s Bo that takes advantage of that.

Will likely have various sketches of you wearing your different outfits that you wear for work. You like to ask for his opinion on them and he’s happy to give you an enthusiastic thumbs up and nod of the head.

Lester Sinclair

Is honestly just happy that you’re with him.

You’re a stripper, you dance for people who would kill to be with you or even touch you, and yet you come home to him.

That’s fine by him!

Might get a little insecure about it but is super easy to cheer up.

Usually Lester just ignores Bo’s comment but if he says anything about your work (probably just to annoy either of you, he doesn’t really care) your man will defend you!

May actually be addicted to your private dances, the ones that he knows are just for him.

Bubba Sawyer

Bubba is never going to judge you for your work, even if it’s something he doesn’t completely understand or is stigmatised. He knows you’re a good, wonderful person who he loves dearly. And you love him back! That’s all that matters to him.

The only problem might be his own insecurities but you can tell when it’s bothering him and are quick to put things right. Showing him plenty of love to remind him that he is the only man for you.

Will sometimes pick out an outfit for you to wear for your next shift. He wasn’t to be supportive!

Loves when you buy new stuff and decide to put on a little bit of a show to show him them, asking for his opinion. He loves them all!

Is always a little flustered afterward so give that boy some love!

He doesn’t care about the money but the rest of the family (mostly Drayton) try to leech off of it. You’re family now, your money is their money. Sharing and all that!

Billy Lenz

Isn’t too sure how he feels about this news...

But put on the brand new set you got for work, give him his own little private dance, dedicate the night to him and he’ll be okay with it.

As long as you don’t give your customers the same treatment, you’re perfectly fine!

Will help you pick out your set for your next shift but don’t expect him to not get handsy. He can’t help himself!

Money isn’t something Billy cares about. It’s not like he goes shopping or anything. But at least you can buy quality things for him to borrow without asking sooooooo...

Asa Emory (The Collector)

Admittedly, Asa is not a fan.

It’s not that he’s judging you or looking down on you for what you do. Looking down on somebody for that alone is nonsensical, there are worse things you could do. He should know.

However, dating a stripper wasn’t something he had seen for himself.

He’s a possessive man so he doesn’t like the idea of somebody eying up his partner at all, especially if he isn’t there.

But one night he visits the club, sits right in front of the stage and you focus all your attention on him.

He admits that you’re mesmerising to watch, maybe he should look into getting you a new outfit. Perhaps a more lacy number?

He’s never going to be a fan of your career choice and will likely try to convince you to quit, telling you that you don’t even need to work. He can support you both.

But all those private dances definitely sweeten the deal for him.

Jesse Cromeans (Chromeskull)

Strippers don’t usually capture Jesse’s attention for too long and he wouldn’t purposely go to a club for the reason of seeing them but sometimes his work takes him to places like this.

You likely worked in a more high end establishment, more wealthy patrons.

Either way, something about you just got his attention. The way you moved or maybe it was the way you looked at him, the bat of your lashes or the smile on your lips. But you drew him in.

Sure daddy Chromeskull!!

Would likely pay for a private dance and when he finds himself even more enthralled with you, he would make you another offer. Paying you for more than just dances, come home with him, not even for sex (though that is very much on the table), just come to his home and look pretty, that’s all he’s paying you for if that’s all you want to do.

If you’re reluctant to accept the generous offer, he will win you over with generous tips and gifts. New lingerie, jewellery, fragrances. He’s determined and convincing, you have to give him that.

If you’re only stripping for the cash, you’re likely going to stop doing it all together. Jesse is paying you more than you ever earned at that place. Plus it’s a really nice house, you’re living in luxury.

Otis Driftwood

It’s likely how you met in the first place. He visited the club you were dancing in and you both just hit it off.

It doesn’t bother him at all.

Will kill anyone who speak bad about your work and will kill anyone who touches you when that is clearly against the rules.

He likes visiting you while you’re working. ‘Paying’ for a private dance that always turns into more.

He actually likes watching the other patrons watching you, knowing that they didn’t even have a chance. You only had eyes for him and he knew it, so their stares didn’t bother him.

Especially when he was there to take you home after your shift, getting to rub it in everyone’s faces as he pulls you into a kiss before escorting you out of the club.

He’s very proud to show you off at all times.

Baby Firefly

Probably met you in the club. Probably shamelessly flirted with you while you were on the job. And, well, you couldn’t help but give her a discount.

Doesn’t care about your work in the slightest.

But will happily help you spend that pay check!

You pole dance? Show her! Teach her! It’s a fun date idea!

She’s not great, too impatient to get any real technique, but she’s having fun and that’s the point!

Loves for you to do little fashion shows in your new work outfits. Even offers to do your hair and makeup for you before a shift!

Baby is super proud of what you do and the money you make. She has absolutely no problem with having other people know what you do for a job. And anyone has anything bad to say about it? Well, they’re just her next target!

Yautja (Predator)

He’s going to need an explanation.

Okay. So what he’s hearing is that you dance for money in various stages of undress?

Not a problem!

Yautja don’t have the same sense of prudishness or nudity that some humans seem too.

But he’s still a little possessive of his little mate. So as long as these customers aren’t touching you or think they have any right too, he’s okay with it.

You do it for good pay, to support yourself, there’s no shame in that at all.

Your explanation might need a little demonstration. Give your alien mate a private dance just for how accepting and understanding his is! It’s his reward!

Turns out, he’s a big fan of your dancing.

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katsukisprincess-archive · 4 years

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kinktober day one: dry humping with bakugou

a/n: AHHH IT’S HERE! this is my second year doing kinktober and i am so fucking incredibly excited for it. this was the month that brought me so many new friends and caused me to read SO many amazing fics and i can only imagine how well this year will go. i’m a wee bit nervous as it’s my first time writing in a long while and definitely my first time writing bakugou in months- let me know what you think! <3

warnings: dry humping, dirty talk, spitting, hair pulling, choking

tags: @nobody0805 @dabilove27 @bakugotrashpanda @tomurasprincess @fae-father @xeina @shigarakiisking @engel-hageshii @luxivii @bnhathirstreblogs @babayaga67 @tigerseye375 @kingtamakimurder @keopiis @iambashfulperson @buttressflybarnes @sunsetchan @thehalfdemonicangel @raekah @aupheliathedk @pozhdukem @rinsbigcock @jungkookcankickme @endeavorsimpstuff @irvingka @trafalgar-temptress @keilemlucent @imbearlythere @qtgothics @leeswritingworld @briswriting @lilacgrave @txmxkis

Working alongside Bakugou Katsuki was… manageable.

Most days, it was fine. You were an adult with your own life, your own career, even your own set of ear plugs for those days when the wall separating your offices was just not thick enough. You were both hired in at the same time, so unfortunately for you, you spent plenty of time alongside the blonde doing paperwork, training exercises, even first missions. While his quirk was strong, yours was just as.

Since there was no difference of power in the slightest, there was plenty of competition. Small training gigs, time in the gym, even things like who was carrying the most debris after a wreck became extravagant deals that neither of you would ease up on.

At first, everything about him annoyed you. You didn’t go to school with Bakugou, so you didn’t grow up with a tolerance to him unlike the redhead that visited the agency once in a while. Your first impression was disgust, and while that still stuck, you found yourself eerily fond of the attention.

“Keep your eyes to yourself, firecracker.” You would tell him as you sauntered down the hallway, making a show of the simple task of walking into the conference room. He would grunt, still not taking his eyes off of you, until the name registered in his head. His yells and approaching footsteps were drowned out well enough as you shut the heavy wooden door and paid attention to the task in front of you.

Press conferences were not your thing. Even worse, they weren’t Bakugou’s thing, meaning you stood huddled together in front of a microphone while the more extroverted members of your agency filled the reporters in on what was happening with the latest mission and things of the sort. Eyes on the crowd, straight face for the cameras. That was all that mattered.

Bakugou normally stood on the opposite side of you, not making eye contact with you once. It was so straightforward that you wondered if he watched back on the tapes and counted to see who blinks more in the time span of the conversation. Just the thought made you snort.

“What’s so funny, huh?”

The gruff voice behind you nearly made you jump out of your skin. You were so focused on the reporters setting up their cameras that you failed to notice the fact that Bakugou was right behind you.

“Need to be so close?” You muttered over your shoulder, hoping he didn’t get the satisfaction of seeing you momentarily spooked. When you cast your eyes to the right, near the podium, you were reminded of just how many heroes were working this last mission with you. Bakugou had no choice but to stand right behind you. Before you could complain further, the conference started.

You weren’t sure whether it was because of the man behind you or the blinding lights in front of you, but as soon as the voices rose, you found it hard to breathe. The lights were so warm, immediately washing over you like a tide and causing you to fight to keep your eyes open. The thoughts you were trying so hard to keep buried in your head, the ones that usually began with Bakugou so close to you like this, were reaching dangerous shallows with every hot breath down the back of your neck.

“Do I make you nervous?”

If you weren’t zoned out from the event, you wouldn’t have heard it. Gruff, low as ever, but still laced with enough interest to raise goosebumps to your skin. You froze, just for a moment, before shaking your head. You were lying.

He could tell.

One step in front of him had Bakugou’s entire body aligned with the back of yours. He was considerably taller than you, wider also, causing you to wonder what it would feel like if he put his large arms around you. From the crowd this didn’t look out of the ordinary at all- he was just standing behind you like he was thirty seconds prior.

Prior, though, you weren’t feeling the way you were feeling now. Your breath staggered out of your mouth as you remembered your need for oxygen, and at your nervous movement, you felt Bakugou’s chest swell against the top of your shoulder blades. Whether this made him proud or nervous in return, you’d never know.

The thought of pride racing through him had you feeling weak. With your mind flipping through the ridiculously thick stack of memories where you two would attempt to one-up each other, you knew you couldn’t let this moment slip you by either. If he was going to play, you weren’t going to sit on the sidelines.

Thankful for the heels you were wearing, one push to your tiptoes gave you the perfect height to brush your ass up and against him. It just looked like you were adjusting your stance to the crowd, but it was so much worse to the blonde who sucked in his breath sharply in response. The fact that he was already hard, and so fucking massive against you, had your head spinning and knees weak. If you were questioning before how he felt, his racing heart against your back had the facts clear.

Lowering yourself down onto your heels, you tried to move back to your original position in case anyone around you was catching on. You didn’t get far, though, as one large hand found its way to your hip and pulled you back to where he was needing you most. Ensuring he didn’t move too quickly just in case, Bakugou began rocking his body forward, little digs against your ass filling the time for the rest of the conference.

“My office.”

***

The contents of Bakugou’s desk were on the floor before the door was even closed behind you. He looked good in a suit, you were finally able to see, but you had to admit that the straining bulge in his pants was your favorite part.

With the door locked and your ears ringing, you didn’t have a chance to open your mouth before Bakugou was turning you around and shoving you so you were bent over his desk.

The air in his office was much cooler than the heat of the lights, so when he pulled your dress above your ass and laid a sharp slap to your cheek, it rang through your body like ice. You were finally able to call out in pleasure now that you were alone, and the sound went straight to Bakugou’s cock.

You didn’t dare lift your body off the desk, instead you laid there and listened to the sound of his belt unbuckling and his pants falling to the floor. When his body collided with yours again, his clothed cock lined up along your panties, which were thoroughly soaked from the antics in the conference room. His length stretched from your clit to the top of the line of your ass, and it was so hard you were convinced you would be able to cum just from the little humps he began doing against your center.

“Feel how fucking hard you made me in there?” Bakugou growled in your ear, one hand tangling through your hair to get a grip as he yanked your head back and off of the desk. “Is that what you wanted? All you fucking do--” He paused to let out a grunt as he rolled his hips especially hard against you. “--Is try to be better than me.”

“Maybe I am.”

Your words, although breathy and higher pitched than normal, were enough to make him flip you over onto your back, slide your legs onto his shoulders, and push you down against the cold wood surface. His cock lined with your center again as his hand found home wrapped around your neck. “Like fucking hell, princess.”

His boxers were stained by your wetness, and with every thrust forward his rock hard tip pulled against your clit. It was hot again, your breath mingling with his and sweat droplets forming on your bodies. He was moving so intensely, you were unable to peel your eyes away from where he was grinding down against you. When he was sick of not having eye contact, Bakugou growled, releasing your neck to grab at your cheeks with one hand and force you to look at him. Your mouth fell open into a pretty O, and he took the opportunity to spit into it.

“So damn wet.” He grunted, his cock twitching against you as he watched you attempt to swallow with your mouth still held open. “I should have fucked you into this desk a long fucking time ago.”

“Then fuck me, please~” Your whines rang off the walls like a melody, everything he had been dreaming about as he would fist his cock under his desk. All it took was one look, one glance from you during the day and he was dreaming about tearing you apart with your hero costume. You wanted him to fuck you, moreso than you had ever wanted anyone, but your cunt deceived you as it tossed you into the heaviest orgasm you had experienced in years.

The sight in front of Bakugou was art. Your mouth widening, drool dripping down your cheek; your hair was tangled from his pulling and your eyes were rolling back into your head as he felt your pussy convulse against his throbbing cock. He barely had time to hold on himself, but he waited until you were falling down from your cloud before dropping your legs and gripping your hair by your scalp, his other hand freeing his member so he could jack off onto your face.

A mixture of pain from his grip and pleasure from your orgasm had tears running down your cheeks, but it soon decreased as his hold moved from your head to the edge of his desk. He was leaning over you completely at this point, your continuous whimpers, moans, and whined encouragement helping him to release his load all over your face, into your hair, against your tongue. You heard a loud snap, but you weren’t able to open your eyes and see what it was.

When Bakugou crashed onto the desk next to you, you wondered silently if your head was ever going to come back down to earth. Everything you had experienced, even if it was all maybe less than an hour, had made for the start of what you hoped was a very interesting relationship.

Finally peeling yourself off of the desk, you gasped when you turned around to see a large chunk of wood missing from the surface. Your bewildered eyes made contact with the blonde next to you, who held your gaze for a moment before letting out one loud bark of a laugh.

That laugh was enough to fuel you for days.

#bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #kinktober #bnha #mha #tw: spitting #tw: choking #tw: hair pulling

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may-day-voice · 3 years

Text

Prom Night Lights | The Reunion

2nd Edition w/ Denki Kaminari, Hanta Sero, Hitoshi Shinsou & Tenya Iida

please do not repost, but you have permission to reblog :)

• Watch/ Listen on YouTube: https://youtu.be/onhumQcEcs8

• Read on Wattpad: https://www.wattpad.com/1060373778-prom-night-lights-the-reunion-2nd-edition

DENKI KAMINARI | Ivre

It was strange for Denki Kaminari to be so frank with everyone after his many successes in his career. Especially after he had drunk one too many cups of punch. Upon arriving at his old haunting grounds, he parked his car just inside the gates before bumping into Ashido, the both of them arriving at the same time where Kirishima and Sero were hanging around. A few bits of conversation was tossed around here and there until Bakugou came and went, following after another alumni in the process.

Kaminari was thrilled to see his old classmates, buddying up to Jirou upon meeting her, as well as a few other members of his class. Everything was going smoothly, until he helped himself with some of Sato's punch along with Kirishima.

He became a bit of a mess.

"Sero, hey!" He called from across the table. "About that text message you sent-"

"Uh dude, now's not a good time," interrupted Sero with a nervous pull of his lips, his eyes darting around the auditorium.

"Huh? Okay," slovenly agreed Kaminari. "I'll talk to you later, actually, have you seen Aoyama anywhere?"

"Uh, yeah, I just spoke to him a while ago. He's probably at the-"

"Oh there he is!" Exclaimed Kaminari with a wave towards the drinks bar. "Aoyama, hey!" He immediately stood to his feet, a little flushed before he walked up to the fabulous-looking blond, spotting his attire still clean and immaculately refined.

"Ah, Kaminari," greeted Aoyama with a smile. "You look worse for wear."

"Nah, I'm good," reassured Kaminari. "I just wanted to say thank you for your help. I know it was short notice but your tips and tricks really helped."

"You mean that very quick phone call about French?"

Kaminari nodded slowly while he took another sip of his punch, happily enjoying the night. "I mean, I had them going for a little while, but they beat me fair and square. It's great though, thank you so much!"

Aoyama eyed the drunken blond, amused and concerned, before he began to wonder about his predicament. "So, um, where is this villain?"

"Aww, stop calling them that," reminded Kaminari before he pulled out a small device from his pocket. He pushed the device into Aoyama's face, the screen honing on a location very close to Gym Gamma, beeping repetitively.

"They're safe and sound in my car, see?" slurred Kaminari before he placed the honing device back into the pocket of his pants. Clumsily.

Aoyama eyed the blond in mild disbelief. "They're here?"

"Of course, my job needs me to be near them at all times," answered Kaminari, while he finally pocketed the device. "I can't leave them alone at mine."

"Well, yes, but they shouldn't stay alone in the car all night," voiced Aoyama.

"Relax, they're cuffed so they can't escape," reassured Kaminari.

A gasp escaped Aoyama's lips upon hearing this predicament, his tone swaying and swooning disappointingly. "But what about the little Cherie?" He questioned. "Sitting in the car while we're having the night of our lives. I can only imagine what they may be thinking, being locked up all alone unable to do anything."

Kaminari's drunken smile slowly faded after processing Aoyama's words. How long has he been at this reunion now? It may have been a couple of hours, maybe even more. He couldn't tell with all the fun and laughs he joined in speaking and conversing with his old classmates.

"Maybe it is best to invite them here, hm?" suggested Aoyama. "They don't sound as bad as you make them out to be. And besides, as Heroes, we have to set an example."

Kaminari's shoulders slumped at Aoyama's suggestion, his eyes staring down at the floor of the auditorium with an embarrassed look crossing his face. He hadn't been the greatest host, more so, the greatest friend despite the professional stance on his responsibilities.

"I should bring them in, huh?" He asked, a little disheartened at his lack of empathy.

All Aoyama did was beam a smile.

——

You occupied yourself in the car with a basic beat knocking the door and shaking the cuffs. Night had already fallen outside and the sound of crickets hit your ears, but time felt still that you had no idea how much had passed. An hour or two? There wasn't much to keep you entertained while Kaminari enjoyed his reunion. You could hear the bass of the music play from the car, spotting the lights of the auditorium glow through the canopies of the trees that lined the walkways. You smiled at the rhythm, recognizing Earphone Jack's music.

You sighed, while you slumped in the passenger seat, reclining the seat a little to find some comfort despite the cuffs and the ankle brace. You regretted not bringing a book to keep you stimulated. If anything, you didn't sign up to hours of boredom.

KNOCK KNOCK

You blinked out of your bored stupor, spotting the blond outside of the car, waving cheerfully yet holding an embarrassed look on his face. It took you back until he walked over to the driver's seat, sitting beside you in the car. It was no surprise to smell the alcohol on him, hitting your senses like a tidal wave.

"So..." started Kaminari. "You doing okay?"

He was definitely drunk.

"I'm fine, I've been worse," you replied with a small smile. "Just the usual checkup tonight?"

"Well, um..." Kaminari's eyes looked away from yours, almost ashamed. "I'm sorry."

"Huh? About what?"

"Leaving you here while I'm inside having the time of my life."

You tried to look into Kaminari's eyes, but he made it difficult. Was this really how he felt? Or was that the alcohol that reeked from him? Learning about the Pro-Hero over the course of his supervision was unpredictable, but watching him now genuinely saddened made you wonder if all of his inhibitions had crumbled.

"You're just doing your job," you reassured, lifting your cuffs to prove a point. "Besides, taking me in a large outing filled with Pro-Heroes and the like would have been a bad idea."

Still, Kaminari wallowed.

"Roi de la Fee? Prince Charmant? Cherie?"

"Stop."

The look on Kaminari's face did not change while he stared off blankly into the car's dashboard. He sat there silent, succumbing to his emotions about the situation currently playing out.

"This is my job, but you're not the job," he explained, his voice laced with a dash of croakiness. "You're a decent human being, and I've left you here like a dog."

"Well, I did say that I was happy to just be under house arrest tonight," you reassured with a wry smile. "That way you could go out and enjoy yourself."

"No, that's not it. I brought you along saying that I needed to keep an eye on you, but really... um..."

Kaminari's eyes continued to cast down on the dashboard, refusing to look you in the eye while he mumbled around with his words and thoughts. You figured he was well drunk, the smell of him didn't deny him of that, but while his eyes rose to meet yours, there was a glint of guilt.

"I guess, I really wanted a plus one here, but at the last minute, I decided to leave you."

There it was. Uncertainty. Similar to how you saw him back at your capture and how he reacted to the situation. However, the both of you conversed many days and nights now, recalling that impromptu outing to a trivial recreation that was mini putt-putt, and have since learnt more about one another. You figured at the very least, his cold feet were brought upon after seeing a friend of his by the academy's gates - a pink-haired, pink-skinned beauty who waved him over.

You sighed and hummed in reply, uncertain yourself as to how to respond to this confession of sorts. Reassurance may look like pity, laughter would definitely make light of his feelings about it, but in the back of your mind, you felt oddly sympathetic to his emotions. You almost felt excited that you were within the walls of the illustrious school.

"I can take you back to mine," Kaminari offered while he scrounged for his keys. "I don't want you to be uncomfortable-"

"Oh no," you interrupted, grabbing hold of his hands. "You are way too inebriated to be driving."

Kaminari only stared at you, dumbfounded, realizing the folly of his suggestion. "Right, um... well I can't give you the wheel and-"

"Kaminari, why did you come back to the car?"

A silence fell between the both of you while you still kept your eyes on Kaminari, the blond taking a deep breath and attempting to think clearly.

"I... I... I spoke to a friend, and he suggested inviting you in to join us tonight."

"Oh? So the Heroes know you have a villain captive by the gates?" You teased in a small jest.

"Not only that but they want to meet you. Not in a scary way, you know, in a good way. Like they want to get to know you, not like interrogating you just, really meet you, and-"

"I guess you've been saying good things about me," you interrupted softly. "Well, as long as you're my chaperone for the night?"

Kaminari turned his eyes onto your smiling ones, beaming with a grin, his face still running warm from the alcohol. "Of course! I mean, if you want to."

A soft smile tugged at the corner of your lips while your hands still held onto Kaminari's throughout this conversation. "I would be honored," you replied with a slight bow of your head.

Immediately in his drunken stupor, Kaminari leapt from his seat and out of his car, running over to your door. Sadly, in a momentary lapse of drunkenness, he had forgotten about your wrists still bound by the door with cuffs, causing Kaminari to immediately in his hurry unlatch you from them.

"Sorry," he apologized while he helped you out of his car.

"It's all right Kaminari. I'm okay," you reassured, finding your feet and soon holding Kaminari up as a support for his clumsy ones. He paid no mind though, allowing you to keep his arm propped against you, ensuring his stability on his weak drunken legs.

"Shall we?" He asked.

"Lead the way."

Kaminari shifted while you held onto his arms, propping his weight onto you. Still, he held you, leading this drunken sway from his car down the laneways towards the bright lights of the auditorium. He leaned his head on yours, smelling the alcohol and feeling the flush of his skin on yours. Kaminari had never been this close before, knowing in the back of your mind that his inhibitions were driving him now more than his common sense. You allowed his actions to dictate the trek to the auditorium, until his breath tickled your ear, his words breathless.

"I love you..."

Your smile disappeared for a moment, still on the walk while he continued on.

"... and that's the beginning and end of everything."

You sighed with a heavy heart, smirking at his quotability still drunk, and knowing you've been reading The Great Gatsby thrice now. Yet his choice of words only hurt.

"May I ask, was this friend of yours your French tutor you mentioned earlier?" You asked curiously, trying to keep your thoughts at bay.

All you received was a nervous chuckle from Kaminari, his grin only captivating you despite the hindsight. "That obvious?" He asked while he clumsily tripped on his feet every once in a while.

"Just an educated guess, Cherie."

HANTA SERO | Outfoxed

Hanta Sero smiled up at the large white gates of his academy, memories flooding back in torrents and waves on all of the adventures, and a few mishaps, he got himself involved in with his ragtag of friends. After making his way to his old haunting grounds, Sero greeted Kirishima outside Gym Gamma, smart and casual for the evening to begin.

"Oh yeah, your date!" exclaimed Kirishima in mid-conversation. "How did it go?"

"Uh... it went pretty all right actually," answered Sero, grinning wryly while he recalled a few points made during his rendezvous in the city's museum.

"As long as you feel good about it, there shouldn't be any problems," piped Kirishima's partner. "Seeing them again soon?"

"Um..."

"Hey guys!"

Sero inwardly sighed in relief hearing Ashido's cry from afar, interrupting the conversation, and soon finding Kaminari along with her setting his mind at ease. Kaminari was the only one amongst the group who had full knowledge of his working relationship with you. Having heard of his work with the Commission, and his constant supervision over one of their more villainous assets, Sero thought he could find some advice from the Stun Gun Hero and close friend.

That was until the night was underway.

With Kaminari and Kirishima drunk from punch, Sero had to unfortunately be the sober one at the reunion, seeing how Bakugou couldn't care less about the current situation. A loose eye around the dance floor ensured Kirishima was taken care of, and soon enough, Kaminari became chatty with old schoolmates, leaving Sero a moment of reprieve for himself. He sighed in exasperation, finally relaxing into his chair until he spotted something on his dirty plate.

It looked awfully familiar.

Salutations Bucky.

Sero choked on his breath sitting up on his seat, immediately turning his eyes to scan the enormous auditorium, filled to the brim of every student across their year. How on earth did you get inside, he thought, his eyes darting around the room hoping to spot something familiar - your fur-trimmed clothes, your outfit, even your eyes.

He didn't even notice Kaminari approach him from across the table, his arms leaning onto it in a drunken stupor.

"Sero, hey! About that text message you sent-"

"Uh dude, now's not a good time," interrupted Sero anxiously.

"Huh? Okay, I'll talk to you later, actually, have you seen Aoyama anywhere?"

Sero's mind was elsewhere, his eyes were focused more so through the crowd rather than Kaminari's presence whatsoever. "Uh, yeah, I just spoke to him a while ago. He's probably at the-"

"Oh there he is!"

Sero didn't pay any mind to Kaminari's movements or whereabouts. He only managed to notice something move in the distance, something out of sorts until a flash of eyes met his, disappearing into the crowd. Idle chatter and the cacophony of voices drowned his senses. He could only spot a glimpse of this person, who weaved through the crowd until he emerged finding nobody in the middle of nowhere.

Perhaps he was imagining it. Surely if he walked back to his table that card wouldn't be there. All a trick of the mind, and probably one too many patrols in the city. He scratched the back of his head, playing with the bristles that tickled his palm without realizing he was still being watched.

You stood by the makeshift bar, eyeing the Pro Hero in the middle of the crowd with a smile. Sneaking into the event was a little troublesome, but nothing like taking out a waiter and disguising as them solved that problem. It was strange to walk around... normal. No black eye makeup, no mask, no outfit. Just you, in a waiter's outfit, but truly you.

Looking around the auditorium was a sight to behold. Everyone was here, and you couldn't help the coy feeling that bubbled inside knowing you stood amongst the most prominent Heroes to grace Musatafu this day and age. To your estimate, you had eavesdropped on a fair few conversations, finding some boring, and others mildly amusing. To your dismay, there had been nothing relative to what you were searching for. Nothing close to the Paranormal Liberation Front. Perhaps a reunion wasn't the right locale to discuss work matters, at least in the company you kept.

You started to reset your tray of horderves by the bar, attempting to keep your cover when a strikingly handsome man stood beside you, helping himself to some already on your tray.

"Couldn't wait?" You asked.

"Ah, but it is just too delectable to wait upon Cher," he spoke, his flamboyant nature almost lighting up the room. That accent was just-

"Are you French?" You asked, earning a dazzling smile from the man.

"Oui, well, I do speak French. Aoyama," he introduced with a bow.

You stared at the man inquisitively, wondering about his mannerisms, his speech, and how he projected himself until-

"Nice to meet you," you started while you set yourself with the tray to serve. "I have a question that you might help me with."

"Whatever for?" Asked Aoyama with a flamboyant flair.

"You reckon there are better alternatives to Mio Caro? I don't mind it but I think it's cute."

You soon walked into the crowd, leaving Aoyama off-guard at least. You merged back into the crowd with a smile on your face, semi-proud of your elusiveness while you kept an eye on where Sero had disappeared amongst the large body of alumni around the auditorium. It didn't stop you from stealing an horderve or two for yourself until you felt a tug on your shirt.

"Hey, been working hard?"

The voice was not familiar, and yet it wasn't also at your level, looking down to find a short man beside you. He grinned widely while his eyes looked you up and, well, up.

"You know I could take you behind the scenes of this academy. Show you around," he spoke with an attempt at temptation.

You stifled a chortle that almost burst through your nostrils, only to cover it clearing your throat. You looked around the room, hoping that ignoring him and his comment may be the solution.

"I know all of the more romantic spots here."

Or at least you thought.

"No thank you sir," you spoke as formally as you could.

"Really? You're the most gorgeous person I've seen aside from my fellow classmates here," he continued.

"Why thank you. But I must be going."

You continued your way through the crowds, handing more horderves around only to feel that presence next to you. That short man just didn't quit.

"How about we step outside for some fresh air?" He suggested. "Get out of the noise."

"I quite like it here sir," you rebutted, noticing the tray growing empty until the last horderve was procured through the crowd. "The noise helps me think."

"Well then, if you like to be noisy we could-"

Slam

You quickly threw the empty tray into the man's face. Not so difficult given how short he was before you teleported yourself across the room, your light bursting momentarily through the air. You hoped the commotion with the tray would keep eyes away from you, appearing on the other side, out of sight.

You breathed a sigh of relief. You had never seen persistence to that degree. Still, you couldn't blame the guy for having some good taste, smiling at the thought with a roll of your eyes. You brushed the uniform down from the commotion earlier when the sound of footsteps caught your ear, spotting a shadow that stretched ahead of you from the fairy lights.

Until the tall frame of a dual-haired man in a white suit exited the party, with phone in hand.

He looked distracted, paying attention more to his phone call than to you standing by the doors, until you recognised that it was the one and only Shouto.

"There is nothing more you found?" he asked calmly and yet with a presence that would make your blood run cold, frozen even, despite the irony in that.

"I don't trust them," he continued on the line. "Has the Commission been a little co-operative on their end?"

The word caught your ear, perked them in curiosity and interest, while you leaned against the open doors, intently listening in on this one-sided conversation. A sigh was all you heard, hearing the frustration in the Hero's voice before his eyes looked up at the night sky, watching the stars sparkle brightly above.

"Keep an eye out on anything that's related to Rainmaker at least," he ordered over the phone. "There's something about him I don't like."

A pause cut through the air, waiting for another piece of the conversation to continue only to meet the Hero's exasperated sigh.

"No, it's got nothing to do with my Love, all right?" he spat, almost embarrassed over the comment, until the light tone of a laugh could be discerned over his phone. "Send Aizawa my regards."

With that, Todoroki hung up on his phone, turning back into the auditorium before his eyes merely glanced at you, his scar prominent in the light. You stared at awe at the Hero, watching his aloof and nonchalant gaze follow you while he walked, only for that expression to soften into a smile, nodding at your presence. Your eyes followed him back inside while he affixed his cuffs on his suit. For someone who had a cold front, he was actually a warm person, you thought, leaning back onto the doors again.

"Hate to break it to you, but you seem to be stuck," spoke a voice beside you, catching you off guard, until a smile cracked on your lips.

"All right, you caught me, fair and square," you conceded with your arms in the air, turning to face Sero now by the doors. Sero only stared, seeing you without the getup, without the makeup, without the added exhaustion from troublesome chases the both of you endured. He just saw you, bare for him to see.

"Like what you see?" You piped, almost shyly this time around.

"What are you doing here?" He asked, suspicious of your presence.

"It's all in the news, and I didn't want to miss seeing all of your friends," you replied in jest. "The ones who celebrated your birthday I'd imagine? Besides, it's good to get out and meet new people. And there's nothing worth going after in town anyway."

Sero continued to only stare, lost while he absorbed the most normal facade you wore. His eyes trailed along the outfit, while you chuckled inwardly, feeling the awkwardness in the air.

"I'm sorry," slowly spoke Sero. "It's just... did you steal that outfit?"

"No," you replied in slight offense. "I borrowed it."

Sero eyed you again with a raised brow, assessing your response with suspicion. As he should be. Finding you here amongst his friends was a surprise, but ever since that "date", and every other time he encountered you, there was always a catch.

"... after I knocked the guy out," you ended, earning a slightly panic-strickened Sero to react intensely momentarily. "But they're fine! I made them comfortable... in a kitchen pantry, but they're not hurt!"

Sero sighed exasperatedly at your explanation, giving up in this weak interrogation for your supposed gatecrash into the reunion. Soon the tempo of the music changed, turning into a slow and rhythmic sway. Sero turned to spot the dance floor now calmer, filled with those who began to slow dance in the room. It was a magical sight with the fairy lights, almost like graduation returned to the present again.

"Don't worry, I'll leave. I've brought too much attention anyway," you reassured him. "At least let me have one doggy bag to go."

You turned to the Pro Hero only to find his hand open to you, his torso in a semi-bow while he smiled. It was an odd interaction, one you weren't familiar with.

"May I offer this dance before I do?" He asked genially. "You're here now, so you may as well experience prom."

Your confused stare slowly turned into a smile, taking his hand and being pulled into a sway just outside the doors. He was extremely coordinated, no less from the most agile Pro Hero you've encountered, but he held you gently in his arms while you instinctively without thought, laid your head on his chest. Though the crowd inside enjoyed the atmosphere, you enjoyed Sero's company, underneath the night sky, swaying in his arms. A smile crept on your lips, involuntarily you'd admit. But the sound of Sero's heartbeat felt calming, the deep thrum engulfing your senses.

You felt... normal.

Sero held your body against his wondering how this felt so different from every other time he had encountered you outside of this academy. It felt as if you melted into him, allowing him to take the lead this time. Relinquishing control must have been foreign to you, or so Sero thought, still swaying alone by the doors outside of anyone's prying eyes.

The both of you stopped while you held each other in your arms, embracing this feeling the both of you shared in this moment together. You never would have imagined baring everything you were to this man, staring back into his genuine grin and eyes, silhouetted by the fairy lights behind him. You peeked past him, spying on the crowds that congregated in the auditorium until a familiar face strode gracefully towards Sero from behind.

"Sero, mon ami," called out Aoyama, his hands waving in the air. "I've been looking for you everywhere."

Sero blinked from the sudden disappearance of your figure, left with only fractals of light before he turned around to greet Aoyama.

"Hey Aoyama," he replied nervously in acknowledgement.

"How goes that thief you were talking about?"

Sero's hairs stood on end in panic. Were you spotted with him, dancing moments ago together? If he were lucky, he would imagine Aoyama commenting about him dancing with the catering staff, a good sign if he did.

"Well, they've been... elusive," answered Sero, his eyes darting around the doors hoping to spot you somewhere nearby.

"Elusive indeed. I've been thinking about another kind of code name you could tease them with next time you spot them," motioned Aoyama with a sense of pride.

"Huh?"

"I've been thinking that calling them Mio Caro was too, what's the word, specific? It sounded boring the more I thought about it."

Sero wondered what came about with this conversation, but to his relief, Aoyama showed no inkling of him witnessing you with him moments before he interrupted the moment.

"Oh really?" Slowly asked Sero, suspicious about how this came about. "What other ideas do you-"

"Aoyama!" Cooed a voice from outside. "Come meet them! They're awesome!"

Sero and Aoyama both turned to find Kaminari, still drunk, being led or leading his plus one to the door. It looked to be a mess from the both of them, more so because of Kaminari's inebriation. Both men instinctively approached the couple, Sero taking Kaminari and Aoyama offering his arm to his plus one, the villain turned Commission's witness. The group, despite the sloppiness in Kaminari's slurred speech, made their ways back to the doors, unaware of them being watched by you, your eyes taking in the scene, but mostly on Sero before he disappeared into the auditorium.

You breathed a sigh of relief, lying your body atop the roof of the auditorium, staring up at the stars in the sky twinkling much like the fairy lights inside. Your chest bubbled with laughter, happily taking in that moment with Sero - the warmth of his hands, the sway of his feet, the sight of his smile while he led you step by step.

Gate crashing was worth it. You've experienced prom, even if it was only for that brief moment.

"Thanks Bucky."

HITOSHI SHINSOU | Soulmate

It was a long day at the Commission's office before you hopped out to make your way to your reunion. Given that you had only recently spoken to Bakugou and Kirishima due to their mission on Nabu Island, you smiled at the thought to see them dressed up for the night, rather than their disheveled, bandaged selves from whatever happened in the quiet town.

The thought of the reports were fresh in your mind while you strolled towards the academy. Headshots of the suspect were included as well, seeing his smiling face in frame. Compared to most captives, he wasn't cocky, but it looked genuine despite the photo. Still, interrogations would commence in a few days seeing that due process was required before any more information could be collated together.

You spotted a few familiar faces in the street heading towards the school, most of them faces from other classes that you recognized until a mop of purple hair caught your eye loitering by the tall white gates. Hitoshi Shinsou was dressed to the nines, prim and proper, but not in that dark purple suit.

"Hey," you called from afar, catching his eye before you reached him by the gates. "Were you waiting long?"

"Not really," he answered dryly, stretching his limbs. "I was actually getting comfortable."

"I'm just a little disappointed," you commented with a smirk, catching wind of Shinsou's confused expression. "I was really hoping to see you in that suit again."

"Oh, that suit," he murmured apathetically before he sniggered under his breath, walking up to you lazily before his nose hovered close to yours. "Am I not good enough?"

You couldn't help but burst into a giggle with him being so close. An involuntary reaction you were sure, but it gave him a smile seeing you react the way you did, grabbing hold of your hand while his fingers entwined in yours.

"Well you've proven the suit doesn't make the man," you quipped happily.

You could feel his chuckle close to your ear before he slowly pulled away from you, taking you by the hand back into your academy once more. It felt surreal to walk through the paths again, recalling the times you've seen Shinsou take laps around the dorms during off-hour training. Memories flooded back, watching the new generation of students walking past, whispering under their breaths. It didn't phase you though. You could hear every word they were thinking, smiling at their curious natures.

"Did I miss something?" Asked Shinsou beside you.

"Not much," you snarked through your giggles. "Just heard some good things about you."

"Oh really?"

You beamed a smile at him, gently caressing his hand with your thumb while you tried to keep his eye on you. "Sounds like you're a role model for the underprivileged, but you also have a fan club."

News of such magnitude caused his shoulders to stiffen. You spotted it despite the flattering suit he wore only making you chuckle deeper. The look in his eye was a multitude of emotions, ranging from confused, shocked, and utter disappointment. You continued to comfort his hand in yours, still walking past while spotting a group of students whispering, attempting to steal gazes at the both of you making your way to Gym Gamma.

"It's hard to ignore," you concluded, still looking up at Shinsou who looked away, slightly embarrassed. "Want to know what they're saying-"

"No," he interrupted. "I don't need any self-serving praise. I'm here to spend a night with the one person I trust the most. And work needs to be as far away as possible."

You sighed in agreement. Work was becoming a little too close to home having taken on the case with the assassin and the Tartarus prison break. The trip to Polis Massa Bay yielded very little results despite witness accounts of a trio who fit some description to the members of the prison coup. There were no other sightings during that weekend.

Night was on its approach with the dark blues merging with the last dregs of sunset pinks in the sky. Ahead, you spotted the last of your alumni entering the auditorium, pulling gently on Shinsou's arm to quicken your pace. You weren't extremely late by any means, but seeing that most invitees have already entered made it seem so.

"No need to rush Kitten," spoke Shinsou, still allowing you to pull him by the arm.

"Come on, we can't miss Iida's and Yaoyoruzu's welcoming speech," you advised.

"Is that the highlight of your night?"

"No, but it'll make for great vocabulary building."

Shinsou sighed at your rationale but can only smile at your fervent need to join the others inside. It wasn't often either of you would surround yourself with many friends, whether it was work, or just general bad timing. To him, he still couldn't fathom the idea of calling the others friends, but a slip of the tongue here and there had seeped into his own vocabulary, only caught by your ear. He took a deep breath before the both of you reached the doors to the auditorium, filled to the brim of all the students of their graduating year, now grown older and hopefully wiser.

"Shall we?" You asked while your arm wrapped around his.

Shinsou said nothing, only smiling at you before he took the lead inside the brightly lit auditorium, sprinkled with fairy lights.

——

After taking your seats and enjoying the night's festivities, the both of you soon caught up with your former classmates, holding conversation and learning more on the gossip. You smiled at the sight of Bakugou and his now fiancé, recalling that weekend away bumping into the both of them there and chuckling wryly at the awkwardness at the time. You soon noticed Shinsou approach Bakugou and converse with him from afar, watching the irate blond pull faces at him, most probably after a mild insult. You shook your head at how the two of them would still butt heads with one another until you felt something different in the air.

Out of all the surface thoughts you could hear, you suddenly gained access to the conversation between Shinsou and Bakugou, staring off at nothing while you sat at your table amongst the rest of its residents still chatting away. It was difficult to ignore while you intently listened.

"Eh? What about it, Eyebags?" Spoke Bakugou while he took a sip of punch.

"Congratulations," simply replied Shinsou, opening his hand out to the blond.

Bakugou stared at him with a furrowed brow, however he took his hand, shaking it firmly. "Tch, it was nothing."

"So how do you feel?"

"What do you mean?"

"Was the frustration worth it in the end? You were pretty mad on that lunch date," reminded Shinsou with a smirk.

"It's because people like you and your weakass partner were getting in my way the whole time we were there," complained Bakugou.

You cringed at his comment. Bakugou was Bakugou, even though he had softened his edges over the years. Still, it didn't help his rude undertones every once in a while.

"Hey, firstly, they're not weak, and secondly, you just had the worst case of bad luck," explained Shinsou with a slight harsh edge to his voice.

Bakugou scoffed before downing the last of his punch, eyeing the crowd of guffawing alumni until they laid on his fiancé not too far away, laughing and chiding away with his friends at their table. Shinsou caught that look on his face, that cocky smirk obvious to see.

"You worry too much sometimes," he uttered nonchalantly.

"What was that?" Snapped Bakugou.

"You want to make a grandiose gesture, and I bet that you had to slow down when it all went down, right?"

Bakugou sneered at Shinsou's question, almost turning his lips into a pout which caught Shinsou's eye again.

"So, you did take my advice."

"Shut it Eyebags," snapped Bakugou once more, earning a chuckle from the sleep-deprived man while he enjoyed his cup of punch. "You say one more goddamn word-"

"Your secret is safe with me," interrupted Shinsou. "No one needs to know, and besides, nobody would believe that you and I enjoyed that lunch date together anyway."

The sound of Bakugou's scoff echoed in your mind again, realizing that you had finally discovered at least to some degree what Shinsou was insinuating back at Polis Massa Bay. The mere idea that Bakugou had the patience to go through, let alone listen to, Shinsou's advice was astonishing. Perhaps there was a mutual respect between the two over the years since their first encounter back at UA.

You felt proud, swelling almost inside with content that Shinsou grew to become sociable in his own way. However, your eyes turned towards the duo across the hall, spotting Shinsou's eye now on you, sipping his punch from the cup he held. Your shoulders stiffened at his gaze, turning your eyes away from him in slight embarrassment. No one had noticed your reactions at the table as of yet, however Shinsou's words in your head echoed loudly.

"Enjoyed the show?" He asked in your head, feeling it lower between your shoulders, unsure how to react until a hand calmly rested on your back.

You turned up to find Shinsou now by your side with a smirk on his face, as if he could feel every fibre in your being burn with mortification over your impromptu eavesdropping. The next thing you knew, he took you by the hand, leading you from the table and walking with you around the auditorium, circling the dance floor filled with already jovial fellow alumni.

"We never did dance at our graduation, didn't we?" asked Shinsou, taking your mind from the earlier teasing nature he threw at you so suddenly.

"No, I think we both agreed to stay out of it," you answered, reminiscing the year graduation was underway, filled with already drunken students enjoying the night from years of tutelage.

Shinsou hummed in thought while he clutched onto your arm, your hand in his, until the song slowly turned into a slower tempo, watching the swarm of alumni shift on the floor and the couples taking stage. Still standing outside the ring of the dance floor, Shinsou turned to face you, guiding your hand onto his shoulder while he held onto you, soon swaying on the spot irregardless of whoever was watching.

Hitoshi, we should be on the dance floor, you spoke in your head, staring up into his tired yet smiling eyes.

It doesn't matter. We can dance wherever we want, he replied back in your mind, his lopsided smile turning into a small grin.

The both of you shared this moment together, swaying to and fro outside of everybody else, to the tune of your own beat and in each other's company. You melted into Shinsou, while you listened to the beat of his heart in his chest, slow and calm. Shinsou only wrapped you in his arms, content to have you, and yet pondered further on many things. After conversing with Bakugou over the course of his life decisions, at least unexpectedly, Shinsou thought more on the topic at hand. It felt just right for him to make plans.

And he hoped you weren't eavesdropping this time, while his hands trailed up your back, holding you to him.

TENYA IIDA | Belated

The sound of your breath heaved violently in your lungs while you rushed through the streets, every so often weaving past passersby with ease.

Some of the time.

"Hey watch it!"

"Oops, sorry!" You called back with a twirl, adjusting a piece of your outfit while still in motion. Crossing the street yielded catastrophic results, at least for some of the drivers who blared their horns at your seeming obliviousness.

You grinned happily at your anticipation, the excitement brewing in your gut when you spotted the tall white gates ahead belonging to the most prestigious Hero Academy in all of Musatafu. To step foot through those gates felt like a privilege in itself, otherwise it was just general hype over the years staring off into the distance from your school grounds years ago.

Why must you be such a fanatic? No wonder people saw you differently, you thought, shrugging it away until you approached the tall gates, handing your pass for this reunion that most probably was about to proceed with its orientation speech. You bit your lip nervously. After being allowed onto the premises, a little dread crept in your mind that you were going to miss the reason why you were invited.

Your boss, Tenya Iida, was about to make the honorary welcoming speech.

And you were fashionably late.

Now fully dressed despite being a little rough around the edges from your rush through the city from Idaten's agency, you ran with large strides towards Gym Gamma, thankful that you had quickly asked the security guards by the gates the general direction towards the auditorium. You ignored the confused looks of students who were leaving the premises, heaving heavily again until you spotted the fairy lights that decorated the paths.

You chuckled brightly, rekindling some hope that maybe you made it just in time. Perhaps they stalled for a moment, like how cinemas ran advertisements before the commencement of the movie. Maybe they were still mingling about, something you can easily just slip into without anyone knowing the wiser. There were many ways this would end, but surely, once you reached the open doors of the auditorium, you rounded the corner abruptly.

"And safe!" you yelled, suddenly catching wind of the echo of your voice that blasted in the very silent auditorium.

The awkwardness felt so thick that you could potentially slice it with a knife, finding that all eyes were on you by the doors. You slowly peeked into the large room, your eyes immediately drawn towards the podium set up for the night where the two MCs stood - one a voluptuous dark-haired beauty with hair you wished was your own, and the other, your boss, mouth slightly agape while he eyeballed you through his glasses. You cringed at the scene before you cleared your throat, lightly waving at everybody inside before you slowly walked away from the doors, turning to hide from prying eyes.

You couldn't help a groan escape from your throat, head heavy, wondering if that was the exhaustion catching up to you from your rush to get here, or the embarrassment of possibly interrupting the party. Still, you overheard the MCs continue on with their speech, listening into their anecdotes over the course of their school years. It was pleasant to imagine how they coloured their experiences while you leaned against the wall, smiling, listening intently to Iida's regimental tone.

----

Eventually the rising volume of voices and chatter was your queue to enter into the auditorium, less rowdy and out-of-breath than you were earlier. Your eyes darted around in search for Iida, but quickly found your way towards the flurry of tables when a green-haired gentleman called you over - quickly realising it was the Number One Hero, Deku. Your heart skipped inside your ribcage, but you attempted to keep a cool facade, welcomed by the table of Heroes while they led you to your seat right next to Iida's, which was empty.

"Glad you could make it," welcomed the Number One. "We've heard a lot of things about you.."

"Oh, good things I hope?" You questioned nervously.

"Well, I figured your grand entrance was the cherry on top."

That nervousness grew tenfold upon hearing that from the Number One. It only set your mind to wonder what exactly Iida had said about you to others, let alone, and most probably, to all his close friends and classmates.

The churn in your stomach was blatantly difficult to ignore, clutching onto it while you nervously laughed further. "Sorry, I just ran from work to get here. Haven't had a bite to eat since breakfast this morning."

Suddenly, as if by some miracle, a plate appeared in front of you, served with tonight's dinner now lukewarm. The sound of the chair beside you pulled from the table caught your ear until you felt the presence of a large figure sit by your side, his arms crossed in mild frustration.

You knew that judgemental energy anywhere.

"Thanks Tenya," you slowly spoke, eyeing the tall man while he righted his glasses upon the bridge of his nose.

"You're late," he spoke dryly.

"Fashionably."

"Don't start."

"But I was on a roll," you explained with a whine. "I was on the precipice of completing Stage Two!"

"Didn't you call them Phases?"

"Close enough."

"No it isn't. You need to be consistent."

"Is everything all right?" Asked Todoroki, eyeing the both of you next to Midoriya.

"Everything's fine," clarified Iida, clearing his throat in an attempt to redirect the conversation.

"Sorry, I just get excited when I talk about Big Blue," you admitted before you dug into your plate of food.

"Big Blue?" Continued Todoroki, still with an aloof expression despite the question.

"Yeah, she's my baby," you simply replied between gulps of food.

"You named your daughter Big Blue?"

"Uh, Todoroki, I think that's not exactly what they're talking about," clarified Midoriya.

"Big Blue is one of their passion projects back in Idaten's Research and Development," explained Iida with a sigh, eyeing you still gorging on the dinner plate. "It's meant to be used in an emergency, once they've completed the build and preliminary tests."

"It's officially called Belligerent Backup, or BB for short," you emphasized while still trying to be in conversation. "But I like Big Blue better."

Iida pinched the bridge of his nose, exhausted from your high levels of energy and excitement. Aside from the few coffee trips he made to R&D, he hadn't heard much from you coming up to this reunion, cooped up in the workshops at the agency to even take notice of the day and time. He felt lucky that he rescued a plate for you when you surely arrived, seeing as you never made it earlier this evening before doors opened into Gym Gamma.

"You're really passionate about this, huh?" Asked Yaoyoruzu from across the way, recognizing that she was the one that stood next to Iida on stage.

"It's not the act of creating the invention, it's the process and journey along the way that really excites me," you admitted. "Like the one time when I had to test for Tenya's breathing performance, which required having to create a mold of his-"

"Okay that's enough," interrupted Iida, causing a small pout to form on your lips before you finished the rest of your meal.

Despite being close to age, Iida still held rank above you. Of course, being the brother of Tensei Iida, the man behind the formation of the agency, was a good reason why, but that didn't stop Iida's tendency to check on your health every chance he had. The thought of it brought a smile on your face.

Soon the party was underway, you watched the crowd mingle and dance together on the dance floor, spotting many congregate around some key players. Iida made the rounds with you only for you to trap Cellophane in conversation after he discussed his recent happenstance with a certain thief on his patrols as of late. The thought of upgrading his gear was tantalizing.

"Seriously, you need the latest tech to help you out, and I know just the thing," you quipped excitedly.

"Really?" Asked Sero, curious of your suggestion.

"That my friend would be me!" You piped with thumbs pointing at you. "This thief of yours won't have a chance against any tech I make."

"You're sounding a lot like Hatsume."

"Wait, you know her?"

"We all do. She made most of our tech back when we were students."

Slack-jawed from the epiphany, you turned to Iida next to you, your expression hurt and betrayed. "You didn't tell me this!" You shouted, throwing a finger at Iida.

"I thought it wasn't relevant," he replied dryly.

"I need to know these things. How else do I know who I'm up against previously?"

"It's none of your concern."

"Anyway, it'd be great if you swung by Idaten," you suggested while turning to Sero with a smile. "I can solve your dilemma, or at least give you an upper hand." With a flick of your wrist, you handed Sero a business card, complete with your details and the Idaten insignia emblazoned on its stock. You completely ignored the exasperated sigh from Iida behind you.

"Uh... thanks," mused Sero while he took the card from your hand, spotting his eye towards the dance floor. "It was nice meeting you, but I gotta save a friend, sorry."

"Give me a call!" You shouted after, watching the Tape Hero make his way towards the floor, noticing his intention to help Chargebolt who draped over his plus one.

Your eyes drifted around, feeling the heaviness of sleep weigh on your mind before you decided to recite to yourself what you observed. Earphone Jack, the muso who headed the night's entertainment along with her Hero career, enjoyed a night along with her classmates; Uravity, the caring Gravity Hero who had been rising in rank as of late, conversing with Deku; Tsukuyomi, the dark Hero enjoying the night while chaperoning a friend of his by the looks of it, and then-

"What's the progress on BB?" Asked Iida next to you. Your eyes piqued at his voice, spotting his tall frame now with a serious look.

"Oh? Um, she's coming along," you started. "As you know Phase One was a success, but by my calibrations, she needs to have more injection in her acceleration capacitors. Phase Two should be complete in the next couple of days, give or take, depending on how her balance and suspension perform."

"They're Phases now?" Questioned Iida with a quirked brow.

"They've always been Phases," you beamed with a smile, earning an exasperated sigh from Iida. "Although, it would be wise that we test it on the field. I'd need to know exactly how it would function in a live scenario. Dummies would be ineffective in seeing how it would perform."

Iida spotted the serious look on your face, your mind mulling over the quandaries in your head. "How about you test it with me?" He suggested.

"What? No!" You cried with an outburst. "It's meant to be a surprise!"

"Having anyone else in our agency as volunteers to your projects is unwise," explained Iida. "At least I'm aware of BB's project."

"Yeah but that would destroy any usable data on its effectiveness."

"Call it a control group. You'll need to understand how BB works with someone who knows the weapon before improving its capabilities for someone who doesn't. What fun would there be if you don't continue mastering and finessing?"

You eyed Iida, watching his calm smile on his lips. You couldn't disagree when he was being agreeable.

"Fine, I concede," you spoke dryly. "Would you be available by the end of this week for an hour session?"

"It's a date," he replied, squeezing your shoulder tenderly before he opened his arm to you, inviting you to join him while you stared at this invitation.

"Want to meet more of my friends?" He asked smoothly while you took his arm in yours, standing next to the tall man with a grin.

"Why, I do declare Mr. Iida. You are too kind," you jested with a humorous accent.

"Please don't speak like that when I introduce you."

You only beamed at the man with a toothy smile before being chaperoned throughout the reunion, meeting a very drunk Chargebolt hanging off from his plus one still, a demure Shouto with his infamous Sidekick partner, and bypassing Ground Zero without a hello (and probably for the better). After knowing Iida for years back at the agency, he had opened up a part of his world to you, happy to introduce you to the eyes of Pro-Hero Society a little later than ever.

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