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#and then fingers crossed she wouldn't pursue
scoups4lyfe · 11 months
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she really out here eating raw chicken like a freak
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yeah, is no one else seein this??
how beastials get away with this behavior I'll never know
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🙀🙀🙀
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Haruka couldn't be me fr cuz I'd have faded the moment she said my name
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tremendum · 1 year
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where to start 
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(gif not mine) pairing: din djarin x afab!reader (gender not specified, descriptions of afab genitalia)     rating: explicit.  (18+. mdni.)     requested: yes, here !!! word count: 2.7k  summary:  Din lets out a shaky sigh, finally turning around in the chair to face you, legs spread slightly, "it's not like- I don't not want to- I just haven't-I don't know where to start."  warnings:  SMUT. there’s like no plot. teasing, PiV (unprotected), Din has a praise kink, he begs, inexperience, loss of virginity, brief allusion to rough sex if you squint, yall cant convince me Din isn’t a stuttering little mess, riding in the pilot’s seat!!, sliiiight dom!reader, slight discussion of Din being ashamed he’s a virgin, idk what else tbh  notes:  thank u for requesting this! i just wrote it in like 30 mins haha. i hope yall like it i love my space cowboy boyfriend <3  this is unedited. reblogs/comments always motivate me hehe
   [other din fic          din series (be like me): masterlist  ]
★  
you stare at the cold metal in front of you. 
it stares back silently. 
your hand is itching to just go knock, to raise a few inches and rap your knuckles upon its shimmering, textured surface; it'll be so simple. so easy, definitely one of the easier things you've ever done. 
but the conversation that awaits on the other side- well.
that's not so simple. 
"why don't you go over there, Din?"  a glint of beskar as his head whips to you, alarmed. thrown off. a head tilt of irritation, "excuse me?"  a raise of your eyebrows, "oh, sorry, didn't realize we were playing innocent." you jut your chin towards the young woman who stands, twirling her hair and making bedroom eyes at Din from across the bar. jealousy curls up your throat - he'd been staring in her direction since you'd arrived, too. "come on, she's been staring at you the whole time. go- go do your thing." 
"that isn't funny." he mutters, causing the chilled pint of ale between your fingers to sear you as you flush. tough crowd.  "why do you assume I'm joking, hm?" you tilt your head again and he shakes his head. it's painful, the way you and Mando have been dancing around each other for weeks. a brush of a leather hand on the small of your back, a kind chuckle at something you say, your hands soothing over the thick cowl that hides his sore knots - the ones that form in his shoulders from carrying the jetpack - a murmur of your name when you're in danger, the curling of your hand around his arm in crowded public spaces. you're sure it's torture, but it seems neither one of you can make the move. 
"she's not looking at me like- like anything." he dismisses, arms curling over themselves in a cross of defense. you hum a laugh; who wouldn't look at Mando like that? 
"oh, c'mon. jus'go up and talk to her. she's probably dying for a big man like you to toss her around." you elbow him, winking. a slick, regretting coil of envy curls around your stomach as you take in the way his helmet tilts from you back to her; what the fuck are you doing? you silently beat yourself up, cheeks hot with the swirling complacency that befalls you following several drinks of ale. you sound like a complete moof milker as you let yourself encourage Mando to- to what, pursue another woman? 
how does that make sense to your brain?  
there's an echoing thud as Din slams his fist hard on the bartop. you jump, eyes wide as he shakes his head, turning to stalk straight out the doors, leaving you behind in his anger. 
yeah. the wall has never been so daunting before. 
you know you upset him earlier. he's been cooped up inside his bunk the whole night after you returned alone from the cantina, and no matter how much you've tried to ignore it, you know that it's your fault that you've made him angry. 
your fist raises. 
the metal whooshes before you can make contact, though, and your eyes meet the hard chest of beskar before you can take a step back. a soft oh leaves your lips as his helmet tilts microscopically down towards you for a moment; he's pushing hard past you with a fierce silence and without a second glance in your direction. 
"wait!" you call as he disappears up into the cockpit, the silence sterile in the Crest as he stalks out of view. you chew your lip as you scramble to follow him, knowing you at least owe it to him to apologize for what you'd said. 
he's sitting in the cockpit, fiddling with the controls as you soon start to engage in liftoff protocols; a thudding jolt as the Crest lifts off sends you stumbling into the chair as you stare, wide-eyed, shocked at Mando's abrupt behavior. he didn't even warn you that he was preparing your next track. 
you try; you really do. seven different attempts - yes, you counted them - to get him to speak, casually commenting on the smoothness of the Crest after your last maintenance day, asking him if he remembered the coolant you'd forgotten a few cycles ago, telling him about Grogu catching a flying-Banda and swallowing it whole mid-air; stupid shit. 
all you got in response was silence.
a sigh, maybe - his helmet wouldn't turn anywhere near you, and your glare cuts through the glinting on his head as stars race above you. it was just like when you'd first met, agreeing to go with him and work maintenance or grogu-sit when he needed it, and existing in weeks of silent tension, the man surrounded in so many walls that he could be armor-less and still the most impenetrable person in the galaxy. 
he was cold. you'd pushed him back into the shell you'd spent months working to chip away. 
"Din." you say flatly, crossing your arms. he doesn't respond; not even a huff, or a grunt, or a movement of muscle to indicate he heard the word. 
"look, I just- I want to apologize. okay?" you say desperately, shaking your head. but he catches you off guard yet again as he speaks up, voice heavy and more hot than normal; like he's been stewing with his thoughts for far too long. 
"-I don't want some random woman. I don't just sleep with anybody because I think they're attractive." his voice moves through the cockpit in defiance and you sit back in your chair, blinking for a moment. oh.  
you clear your throat, unsure how to approach what he's said; a sick, twisted part of you scowls at his insinuation that he'd found the woman from the bar attractive; but of course he did. she was. and you're unable, still, to deny the throbbing ache of desire that dully spreads through you at the very dim prospect that you are not just a random woman to him.
"I was out of line. I over-stepped." you try again. 
"do you think I'm upset that you teased me back at the cantina?" he clips, taking you off-guard. your brows furrow, tilting your head, "y-yes?" it comes out like a question of your own, in your doubt. 
he sighs. the weight of it smashes you back as you furrow your brows; he will not go into another bout of silence again, you won't let him. no. 
"what is it, Din?" you ask gently, leaning your elbows onto your knees. 
he breathes out, hand twitching by his side. "I just-"
you're not sure what spurs his sudden admission; be it from frustration or a genuine desire to confide in you, his only companion besides a 50-year-old baby. 
"I don't have- I don't have much experience." he admits, voice laced with embarrassment. he sounds much more unsure of himself than normal. "because of the Creed- I have lived differently than others." 
oh. oh.
you flood with emotion, eyes flying wide. "oh, Din-" you feel like you're on fire in embarrassment, shaking your head in regret, "I'm- I didn't even think about that. I shouldn't have-" 
"please," he almost whimpers it, "stop." 
you do. 
he lets out a shaky sigh, finally turning around in the chair to face you, legs spread slightly, hands on his lap. "it's not like- I don't not want to- I just haven't-I don't know where to start." 
you nod, throat dry. his composure, the sweet genuine tilt in his voice; your underwear slicks as you wait for him to continue. the air feels... thick with anticipation. 
he's breathing more shallowly, his hands gripping his beskar thighs as he keeps your gaze. "I don't...know how to get what I want from..." he stops, his helmet fully facing you. your words are dead on your tongue as you stare at him; your heart thunders as you beg him to say it. 
"from you." he finishes, body still as he awaits your reaction. 
heat spreads through your entire body as you stare at him, fire licking your fingertips. he wants- he wants you. he wants you. 
you swallow your fears in one sentence, "have you considered... asking?" 
your voice has it's desired effect. his chest almost shivers as he lets out a soft breath, hands clenching as you stand from your seat to walk, slowly, towards his chair. you're more than thankful you'd had the thought to change from your hunting clothes; your shorts, breezy and loose, sit barely below the curve of your ass and you don't miss the way Din's helmet moves with the sway of your hips.
his helmet tilts to stare up at you when you set your hands on each side of his arm rests, leaning in close. you can smell his scent as you smile sweetly, "I would say yes, you know." you whisper next to his helmet as he lets out a strangled noise. 
it’s a split second before he shakily groans. "I want you." he finally gasps, "I need you." 
you let out your own shaky breath as arousal floods your underwear, arousal swirling in your stomach. "I want you too, Din." you press a soft kiss to his forehead, the cool beskar tingling your heated, desiring lips. 
his hands remain clenched until you slide yourself onto his lap, settling yourself to straddle him in the pilot's chair, a fantasy you've imagined almost every night since you've met the man. you don't even suggest removing the beskar; he deserves to be comfortable as possible, and you flush when you realize you like the sharp bite of the metal on your bare skin. 
your hands explore the long, sturdy planes of his chest and neck, over the ruched material, threads loose under the tips of your fingers, armor cold. you can feel him under your aching heat; he's already semi-hard, his breath falling from his helmet in breathy grunts as you slowly, gently rock against him. "you can touch me, Din." 
it's like he's snapped to life; hands fly up to your hips, tugging your chest impossibly close as he mutters into your ear, "fuck, cyare." 
it starts slow; your bodies glued to each other, exploring every inch you'd desire to discover before, the blue-electric lights of hyperspace coaxing the two of you into a dreamlike state. 
but he gets desperate quick. 
he's groaning, straining hard and thick against his flightsuit; as your hand falls to palm him as you rock your clothed clit over the material, you're momentarily concerned that if you aren't warmed up before taking him, he may not fit. "you're so big, Din." you whisper as your lips flutter along the seam of skin exposed between his helmet and cowl. he lets out a moan of your name, one hand pulling you by your back towards him, the other digging into the plush of your ass, sneaking under the fabric of your sleep shorts. 
"cyare, please-" he gasps, voice begging, "need to- need to be inside you." 
you smile, kissing the hot skin of his pressure point, tongue slinking up as his heart pounds. "there, that's how you ask, Din." 
you press another kiss to him, your hands moving to undo his flight suit, pulling his thick cock out; he ruts upwards with a sharp moan, hand digging into your ass so hard it may leave marks. 
pre-cum leaks out of him in beads; he's so goddamn hard, whimpering at your touch. you feel your slick dampen your thighs through your underwear, shivering with desire. 
you pull your underwear to the side swiftly, rising onto your knees as he stables your hips up above him. his chest sputters, grunting as you start to move your hips, teasing him with your velvety wet cunt. 
broken grunts of Mando'a leave his helmet, his fists tightening as his helmet falls back to thud against the back of his pilot's chair. "please, mesh'la, please." he mutters. 
you can't wait any longer; soon you're shifting, prodding yourself over his head, gently taking just a bit of him inside you. your gasps are in tandem at the tight, warm stretch; "Din, y'gonna fill me up so well." 
he moans at that, hands rising to hold your shoulders, his thick, muscled arms swallowing your frame as he hums, "fu-uck, n-need you mesh'la." 
you nod, your breath fogging up his helmet as you desperately shift your hips, preparing to take him into you. and then slowly, you let your legs relax slightly. 
"M-Maker-" Din stutters, the weight of his helmet dropping onto your shoulder as you slowly lower yourself; his cock, thick and warm, eases you open gently, the pain of his stretch curling your toes in your boots. “yes,” you hiss, swallowing dryly as your hands, stabilizing themselves on his neck and shoulder, grip tight. 
you have to ease yourself down onto him; his hips buck up harshly, as if he can't help himself, his tip sheathing so far into you that it prods at your tender cervix, causing you to yelp in pleasure. 
"s-sorry." he mutters, hands shaking as he holds on to you, "can't-f-fuck, it feels so- you feel so warm. y'so tight. ’m not gonna-" 
you nod desperately, starting to move yourself, fucking him slow as his hands hold you. 
"feels good. you're so good, you're so good for me." you mutter, causing his cock to twitch deep inside you. he moans loud as you mutter praises, his cock so deep; dragging through your walls, hitting an angle which nudges that delicious spot inside you.
a groan of your name has you smiling as you suck a mark dark onto his neck; you start to build up the pace, the simmering arousal soon spurring you to chase the building pleasure. 
"yes, yes." you nod, peppering kisses over his throat, nails clawing to expose more of the forbidden, golden skin. you feel him clench below you; his hard, cold thighs tense under the beskar, the muscles of his abdomen flexing under the protection as the lewd noise of your connection echoes through the cockpit. 
he's close, you know it. 
you want him to cum, you want him to be consumed by it; you want him to consume you, you want to consume him. you tug him as you maintain your pace, legs burning as you chase your own orgasm. 
"y'gonna cum, Din?" your voice is laced sultry and aroused, fogging his helmet as he nods, broken moans of ecstasy leaving his helmet. "yes, f-fuck- I-" 
"yes, cum, baby." you mutter, his hips soon spurring to thrust up and meet your own movements, the pet name making him shiver. you let out a yell, cracking with pleasure as he holds you immediately to you, his whimpers echoing with your moans. 
he finishes with a moan of your name and a slam of his fist hard onto the console next to you; all of the lights in the cockpit shut off at his action but you can barely notice as his orgasm paints your channel, hot and thick. you're out of breath as he rides out his high, ropes of cum filling you. 
he twitches inside of you as you stutter to a stop, your wetness causing a stain on his flightsuit below you. 
his head lifts from your shoulder, voice wrecked, chest panting. "you didn't- you didn't finish." he sounds confused, embarrassed. 
you flush at his statement - he just had sex for the first time, and is disappointed you didn't cum? you let your hands rub soothing circles over the parts of his shoulders that aren't covered with armor. 
"n-no, Din- that was 'bout you." you sigh, pressing a gentle kiss to the contoured beskar of his cheek. "we have next time." you ensure him, gasping as his hips still rock up into you gently, his softening cock pushing his cum deeper inside of you; holding it there. 
keeping him inside you. 
he stiffens, head rising to look at you. "no." he mutters, his hands dragging down your spine, catching on your hips, sliding back up to grope your breasts. "show me how to make you cum now. please, mesh'la." 
another rush of arousal floods you, shivers running down your body as you grin with a flush. resisting a loud moan of desire, you nod gently.  "okay." 
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adventuringblind · 7 months
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Possessive
Lando Norris x Reader x Oscar Piastri
Dialouge: "You are ours and ours only."
Summary: Oscar gets possessive during a night out.
Warnings: downright Filthy smut, marking, dom/sub, double penatration,
Notes: This is part of my 1000 follower celebration
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Neither Lando nor Oscar would say they are possessive men. They love each other and their girlfriend, and they know she loves them. It's very difficult, however, to remain neutral while watching another man flirt with her.
He started a conversation while she was dancing with Lily and Carmen during their post race celebrations. She'd politely tried to get away from him but the man is annoyingly persistent.
"Should we help her?"
"Can we do it without punching him is the real question."
"But it would be so satisfying if we did."
"Osc, you scoop the spiders up and take them outside. There is no way you can punch that guy."
The Australian whips around to face Lando. A smug look plastered on his face. "Wanna bet?"
Lando, with no alcohol in his system since he Despises the stuff, agrees. The Brit would soon come to learn never to challenge Oscar again.
The woman in question still looks highly unlikely comfortable and getting more agitated by the second. Relief, however, hits her as Oscar appears behind the man pursuing her and taps him on the shoulder.
"Pretty sure she wants to be left alone." His arms cross over his chest but he still looks as unassuming as ever.
Most people would assume Oscar doesn't know the definition of the word violence. She knows better, though. Her and Oscar had been together before Lando. If it's in the name of defense, he won't hesitate to swing.
"I don't see a boyfriend anywhere. Maybe you should go where you are wanted." The stupid man who can't take a hint seethes.
Oscar takes a step closer, invading the others space. "Seeing as I am one of two boyfriends she has, I think you should step away."
There is silence on the other end. Then a brutal look of disgust. "Well if she's used goods then you can have her, pal."
The look she hasn't seen for years only appears on Oscar for a second. The one that has is inner demons raging. The unflappable, sweet, gentle Oscar is seeing Red.
Only a second before the Aussies fist collides with the other man's jaw, sending him reeling backwards. He's always had a nasty right hook.
She says nothing as Oscar promptly takes her hand and guide her to the entrance. Lando trailing them from where he was watching. The Brit looks a mixture of terror and turned on.
The car ride is silent apart from the loud expressions passed between her and Lando and Oscar's fingers wandering occasionally. The last time he was like this neither of them could walk the next day.
The thing about Oscar, the incredibly calm and unfazed Australian, is that he takes all those emotions and puts them elsewhere. Into sex, specifically. Lando learned this the hard way. His teasing went one toe over the line. He ran out Oscar's patience in a series of events over the course of a week to test the limits.
So Oscar likes control more then he shows. It gives him an outlet, per say. He times and calculates and gets some kind of high off it. Plus it resets him to where he can take whatever shit people throw his way without losing his mind.
Oscar doesn't let go even after they are saftley back in their flat. Instead her body is slammed into wall of the entry way.
"Why don't you tell her what you said Lando. What got you into this mess." The voice he pulls out is the condescending one. The one that makes her knees weak.
"I said you wouldn't punch the guy."
"And if I proved you wrong?"
Lando swallows hard enough for her to hear it. Probably see it also, but her eyes are stuck staring at brown ones that are eating her alive.
"That I would do whatever you wanted tonight. No questions asked."
Lando screwing himself is not shocking. Now, Lando actually doing what he's told? That is even more shocking then when he got drunk. Only once before he decided he hated it for sure.
"Then I want you stripped and on the floor in the bedroom." Silently, the Birt pads away to do as told. Oscar loosens his hold on her body and give her some space. "Seriously though, are you okay? We won't do this if you were any kind if put off by that."
"And miss this opportunity? Absolutely not. If anything to sight of you actually punching somebody has me feral."
"Good. Then let's go find Lando."
Lando, to his credit, is following through. He just looks wicked sad about it.
"Lando? You alright love?"
"Doing what you're told is much less fun."
Oscar rolls his eyes at the pouting boy on the floor.
She was going to ask for instructions. But as she opens her mouth she finds there is no need. Oscar is dragging her to bed. Her clothes are litterally (and unfortunately) ripped from her body. The room is cold without layers, but it won't be for long.
Oscar's lips are everywhere. He kisses, sucks, licks, and bites every inch of skin on her body. Every peice of her knows the feeling of the Aussies warm lips. Every kiss leaves her tingly and every bite leaves her wanting.
"Lando, come here. I think people need to be reminded that she is ours. Would you like that baby? Do you want people to know you are ours and only ours?"
Her brain is too far gone to respond coherently. Lando has already got to work, claiming her where Oscar hasn't already. The Australians voice is gentle, but it's demanding. There is a need burried within it that says he needs people to know she's taken.
"I swear you're just too pretty. Everybody wants you. I'm tired of them not knowing you're already spoken for." Oscar is the next to shed his clothes. Lando's hands have gone from stagnant to touching her like she is the air he breathes. Both males are staking their claim on her tonight. A shared feeling of want for people to know she chose them passes between the two.
Mumbled pleads escape her. Some kind of contact where she's sensitive needs to happen or she might combust.
"Think you can take both of us in the same hole love?" Back to gentle. His need to care for her outweighed the need and desire to have her like this. It makes her agree so fast she gets dizzy from nodding her head so much.
Lando gets to be underneath her. His lips are still attached to her skin. It muffled the moans and tiny whines he's letting out as she sinks down onto him.
"Yiu know, Lando. That guy said our girl is used goods. What do you think? Do you agree with him?"
Lando detaches, his mouth agape. "I can barely get into her mate. I don't know how you're going to. Feels good to me."
"But aren't I used?" She whimpers.
Lando's hand reaches around her front to play with her clit. His large nimble fingers send shockwaves through her body.
"You are not 'used goods' baby." Lando says into her skin. His warm breath sticks to her shoulder. "We love you. We're keeping you. Fuck anyone who says shot like that."
To say she's gushing at this point is an understatement, despite that fact Oscar decideds lube is a smart idea. Now she's even more wet and sticky that she was with just her own self made lubricant.
Oscar takes it incredibly slow. To slow for her liking. But the second he's sliding into her, the friction with Lando, the stretch and positioning of everything. Yeah - it hurts.
Her teeth sink into Oscar's shoulder. Lando's hand is caressing her cheek and wiping away the stray tears that slip down the sides of her face.
It is ridiculous, really, the situation she's in right now. But she can't think as Oscar is cooing praises in her ear and Lando is meticulously puting his hands on her.
They spiral quickly after that. The tension that was in Oscar's shoulders releases as he is finally able to take what he needs. Lando has decended into a mess of moans and thrusting hips.
She is completely at their mercy. A mess of movment. The symphonic melodies of their voices fill the space of the bedroom. Hot breaths stick to her skin over the already present layer of sweat.
The ache in her bones and coil in her stomach rapidly approach a breaking point. She can't even warn them as everything in her snaps and leave her body a flailing mess. The two boys stutter and sink further into the mattress.
Then a silence. An amazing thread connecting all three bodies together.
They stay like that for the next ten minutes. Unmoving. Listening to the sounds of breathing and heartbeats.
"That was eventful."
"No kidding."
"Sorry if I was to rough."
All of them laugh. "Maybe you should apoligize to the guy at the club."
Oscar pulls out slowly, and then Lando lifts her gently off him. Then they actually collapse. Arms outstretched to hold each other close. "We need to clean up."
"We also need to look at your knuckles, Osc."
"I still can't believe you punched him."
Oscar rolls his eyes. "Well it ended well didn't it? I don't hear you complaining."
"Remind me to never challenge you again."
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peachsukii · 2 months
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𝔥𝔬𝔩𝔩𝔬𝔴 𝔥𝔢𝔞𝔯𝔱
( chapter 4 - the grey )
『 ♡ pro-hero fem!reader x pro-hero bakugo; pro-heroes au | friends to lovers 』
status: on-going rating: mature (16+) #✩.hollowheart
꒰ summary ꒱ A glimpse of hope appears out of nowhere, giving Bakugo and Midoriya the lead they needed to pursue your location. It proves to be much more difficult than they imagine, so they call upon some friends for a search party.
꒰ tags & warnings ꒱ mentions of blood/violence, eventual & mild smut, kidnapping/abduction, experimentation, physical & psychological torture, PTSD, implied/referenced self harm, cursing, talks of trauma | angst with happy ending, emotional hurt/comfort, regret, mutual pining, friends to lovers, insomnia, eventual romance
꒰ Ao3 version | word count; ~20.6k as of ch.4 ꒱ Master List Chapter 1 | Hurricane [5,092k] Chapter 2 | The Ghost of You [4,799k] Chapter 3| Choke [3,995k] Chapter 4 | The Grey [6,756k] Chapter 5 | The Good Left Undone Chapter 6 | Tourniquet Chapter 7 | There is Fear in Letting Go 『♡』 this fic has a playlist! ✩
"So...let me get this straight," Uraraka ponders, finger on her chin while staring up into her metaphorical thinking space. "She's underground?"
"Yeah, I know, it sounds fuckin' insane." Bakugo shakes his head as he crosses his arms defensively. "But we gotta try. She needs m- our help."
Midoriya nods in agreement and turns to the group. "Sorry to ask on such short notice, but thank you all for -"
"Like you have to ask!" Jiro interrupts, hands on her hips. "She's important to us, too ya know." 
Bakugo and Midoriya had called all of their friends the following morning of your text, gathering an emergency rescue group. Uraraka, Kirishima, Jiro, Mina and Todoroki dropped everything they were doing and met up at Bakugo's apartment the following night. They needed a plan, one that the agency won't catch wind of before they can execute it. It wasn't going to be easy, that much the boys knew, but the consequences did not outweigh the reward - getting you home, safe and sound, was their number one priority. 
"The agency doesn't give two shits about this, so we're takin' it into our own hands. I'm done sittin' around waitin' for a miracle." Bakugo's words are flat as he motions for the group to follow him over to the kitchen table to analyze the diagram that him and Midoriya drafted. He points to the left side to start explaining their plan.
"Ears, we'll need ya to figure out where the compound is located, see if you can hear vibrations or some shit. It's gotta be somewhere in this field. Pinky'll burn a hole to make an entry point for us. They'll keep guard while the rest of us go inside. I'm guessin' it'll have multiple floors, so we'll split into teams to cover it all. I'll take the first floor, Deku and Icyhot take the second while Cheeks and Red take the third. Get in, search for her and other hostages, get 'em out and fuck up anyone in our way." He stands back, shifting his gaze to everyone's faces. "Got it?"
"You sure you wanna go alone, Kat?" Kirishima asks, quirking his head to the side. "Not sayin' you can't handle it, but I wouldn't want anything to happen to you."
Bakugo grunts, casting his eyes to the floor. "It'll be fine. We'll have our comms and stay in contact."
Midoriya knew the reason why he wanted to go alone and didn't dare vocalize it to the group. He trusted Bakugo knew what he was doing, even if it meant going head first into danger by himself. They're top heroes - intuition is one of their strongest feats and he trusts his childhood friend with his life.
"Do we know anything about the drug they're making?" Todoroki asks, directing his question at Midoriya. 
He frowns in response. "Not much, unfortunately. I tried to analyze it in the agency lab and couldn't crack anything about it, didn't have enough of a sample to properly break it down. The only thing we know is that one dosage lasts about an hour."
"Deku, come with me for a sec," Bakugo demands, stomping past Midoriya and into his bedroom away from the rest of the group. Midoriya obeys and follows him down the hall, stopping in the doorframe.
"What is it, Kacchan?" he asks, unsure of what he needed him for. Bakugo droops his shoulders in defeat, palming his face in embarrassment. 
"Izuku, I need a favor." His voice is hushed.
Midoriya walks up to him, placing a hand on his shoulder to gather his attention. 
"Anything, what is it?"
"Don't make me say it," Bakugo grumbles, shaking his head in disbelief that he was asking him for support a second time.
Midoriya knew exactly what that meant. He silently wraps his arms around Bakugo, enclosing him in a soft hug.
"We'll find her, Kacchan, I promise."
Bakugo loosely returns the embrace with one arm. 
"What if I'm not strong enough to save her again?"
Midoriya pulls back to look him in the eyes. "That's not going to happen, we have your back - all of us."
Bakugo knows his friends would support him through thick and thin, but that's not what he's questioning. The possibility of letting you slip away a second time is slowly eating away at him, afraid he'll have to experience you disappearing all over again. A quiet 'yeah' is all he can muster before composing himself.
Bakugo pats Midoriya on the head as he leaves the room.
"Let's get goin'." 
~ TIME: 8:39PM
An hour goes by as the group makes their way to Sector 42, enough time for the sunset to fade into a starry sky and help hide their presence in the night. The seven of them re-group in the same area that you'd previously disappeared in - the barren field. 
"Where did you say the portal opened?" Jiro questions.
Bakugo walks over to a set of rocks, pointing at the area. "Right there. Deku marked it a few days after it happened."
Jiro nods and kneels to the ground. She plants both her headphone jacks to the dirt and focuses for a few moments, listening for any frequencies below them. She hears it straight away, the sounds of metal clanging faintly in her ears. 
"Found it!" she exclaims, unplugging herself from the soil. "About 20 feet deep, and it's a huge facility. I can't quite tell how many floors, but it's big." 
"Knew I could count on ya. Pinky, you're up. Make a big enough hole for us to fit through," Bakugo orders, standing back with the others. 
"Roger that!" Mina gathers a coating of acid around her hands, forming makeshift armored gloves. She began to dig while oozing acid into the ground, carving out a tunnel for the group. The others stood nearby, keeping lookout for any potential sneak attacks. Bakugo can’t help but repeatedly thump his foot like an angry rabbit, his patience wearing thin as he’s forced to wait, not able to direct his anger at anything in the moment. He wanted nothing more than to blow the whole place to smithereens, scoop you up, and take you home. Uraraka notices his fidgeting and pulls him to the side.
"You wanna talk?"
"About what?" Bakugo grumbles, scrunching his brows at her in annoyance. Obviously, he didn't wanna talk about anything at all, let alone his feelings.
"Fair enough. How about I make you a promise?" she says, extending her pinky to him. "When we find her in there, you'll be the first one we call."
Bakugo stares at her, blinking a few times before sighing contently. He wraps his pinky around hers. 
"Thanks, Cheeks. I...really miss her." He lets his hand fall away from hers as she gives his shoulder a light squeeze. 
"Me too. You better make a move once she's back!" Uraraka bats at his arm playfully before skipping back to the others. Bakugo's got his arms crossed and nose to the sky, failing awfully at hiding his flustered expression. Meanwhile, Mina crawls out of the hole she's dug, covered head to toe in dirt. 
"Hah...okay," she pants, out of breath and wiping the sweat off her brows with the back of her hand. "It's wide enough for two people. It takes you to a hallway...that's all I could see. Bit of a drop, so just be careful."And with that, the plan was in motion. The five infiltrators shimmy down the hole one at a time, dropping into the hallway as quietly as possible. Bakugo and Midoriya exchange quiet glances, noting how off-putting the silence is to their entrance. 
"Eyes up, keep a low profile, and call immediately if something happens," Bakugo whispers. "And try not 'ta get hurt."
The four of them nod in agreement at him, partnering up according to plan and going their separate ways.
~ TIME: 9:18PM
Things are quiet in the compound tonight - eerily quiet. It's been days since your distress text was sent to Bakugo, leaving you yearning for escape to the outside world. Did he have a plan? Are him and Midoriya on their way? The lady who helped you steal your phone hasn't returned since that night, not since she took your phone back to the contamination room. Something felt wrong about this setup, that same gut feeling invading your body like the night of your abduction. You can't help but feel guilty about pulling the boys into potential danger, but what choice did you have? There was no possibility of you being able to escape yourself, much to your dismay. It was physically impossible without your quirk. Being helpless has been humbling, but a fucking aggravating experience.
You roll over on the cot, tracing imaginary drawings on the metallic wall as a distraction. The annoying 'beep!' of a keycard sounds from the cell door, but no footsteps follow. You're expecting a barrage of harsh commands, but they never come. Even though that's peculiar, you don't turn over to investigate - you couldn't give two shits about anything in the place any longer.
~ TIME: 9:43PM
Once they've successfully navigated their way through the compound, Uraraka rounds the corner of the steel corridor on the third floor with Kirishima at her side. She stalks slowly down the hall, taking time to examine all their surroundings. 
“Hey, up there! Looks like another cell,” Kirishima mutters, pointing over her shoulder. She silently nods in response.
The two of them approach the glass wall of the cell and carefully peer inside. Uraraka audibly gasps and she scrambles to the door, anxiously fidgeting with the electronic lock. She kicks the door as a last resort and is shocked when the cell door pops open, loosely swinging inward on its hinges. She pushes her way inside, a soft smile crosses her lips when she spots your form on the small cot. You don’t move out of habit, assuming it’s a pissed off guard coming to grab you for another round of testing.
“Found ya,” Uraraka sighs, desperately trying to hide the tears pooling in her doe eyes.
Is that…?
You flip over at the sound of her voice, bewildered at her physically standing before you. 
She’s not an illusion...right?
“Ochaco?” You compose yourself as you sit upright. “Is that…really you?”
Uraraka doesn’t hesitate any longer as she’s rushing toward you, wrapping herself around your frail form. One of her hands makes its way to hold the back of your head, trembling fingers clutching a handful of your messy locks. Her warmth engulfs you and coaxes the emotions to the surface that you previously submerged, soft hiccups bubbling in your throat. You return the hug, squeezing her tightly and shrinking in her arms. 
“Yeah, I’m here. I’m really here,” she assures, quietly stroking your hair. Kirishima comes into focus over Uraraka's shoulder.
"Hope we didn't scare ya!" he says while wiping a tear from his cheek. He strolls over to the cot and takes a seat next to you, gently patting your back. "Good to see ya!"
Uraraka pulls back and moves her hands to your shoulders. Her eyes are glassy as her lips curl into another smile, her signature dimples adorning her cheeks. You haven’t seen the sun in a months time, but seeing her euphoric gleam more than made up for it in the moment. 
“Before we talk about anything, I promised someone a small favor,” she says, nodding her head. She clicks the earpiece that adorned her helmet with one hand while thumbing away a stray tear off your chin with the other.
Promise?
“Hey, Dynamight,” she says over the intercom. The mere mention of his hero name from Uraraka is enough to make the butterflies in your stomach flutter ferociously. You can barely make out his voice through the device, but hear Bakugo’s signature twang when he replies. It makes your cheeks flush strawberry. 
She grins at you as she replies to Bakugo, "I've got a message for ya."
Your heart stops as Uraraka releases her hold on you and reaches for her helmet. Her hair ruffles from underneath when she tugs it away and shifts to place it over your head. She runs her fingers over your hand delicately, urging you to talk to him. 
She mouths ‘go ahead’ while holding the intercom button for you. Kirishima pats you twice on the shoulder for encouragement. 
How does she know?
You swallow, hard. Every nerve in your body is firing on all cylinders. There’s an endless amount of things you want to say to him, but that moment isn’t here yet. You choose to settle on a greeting, praying you don’t start bawling your eyes out. 
“Hey Katsuki,” your voice quivers as his name leaves your lips. 
You hear Bakugo suck air through his teeth over the radio communication, knowing he’s probably cycling through a million emotions over the sound of your voice, too. 
He clears his throat briefly before responding. “Hey…y’doin’ okay, Lite-Brite?” 
You can tell by the way his voice trembles that he’s doing his damndest to keep his shit together. Uraraka continues to hold the button on the helmet, motioning for you to continue talking. 
“Never better,” you joke, huffing out a laugh. “Food sucks here, though. I had to trick myself into thinking it was your cooking to even stomach it.” 
He exhales a quiet laugh. “I’ll make ya whatever you want when we get home. Now get your ass movin’ so we can get the hell outta here.” 
The signal turns off with a click. Uraraka takes the helmet from your head carefully and places it back on her own. 
“You’re gonna have to tell me everything about you two when we get home!” she exclaims, pinching your pink cheeks lovingly. “I’ve missed you - we all have.”
“It’ll be a relief to have you home,” Kirishima chimes in. “C’mon, lets get a move on.” 
He stands from the cot and extends his hand for you to take. Him and Uraraka help you to your feet as you brush yourself off and fluff your hair over your shoulders.
“Are you hurt at all?” Kirishima asks, removing his arm from your back. He takes a look at your arms - they're covered in bruises of varying sizes and colors.
“Not on the surface, no. It’s a long story,” you explain. “The condensed version is they’re formulating a quirk suppressing drug. The experiments they’re running down here are fucking horrific.”
His face morphs into shock and slowly fades into sympathy. Flashbacks of the Overhaul situation from high school come flooding back to him, wincing at the thought of another anti-quirk uprising.
“But you’re okay?” Uraraka asks a second time as she takes your hand in hers, one pinky lifted to prevent her quirk from activating.
You decide to spare her the mental agony you've been through, saving it for later. “...yeah, I think so. Just exhausted. My quirk isn't fully restored, either.”
Kirishima’s earpiece beeps twice when a muffled voice comes through. He turns his head while clicking the button to respond.
“Yeah, we’ve got her. How’s it goin’ up there?” he asks. The voice that responds faintly resembles Midoriya's. He responds once more before clicking off the communicator. "Alright, we'll head up now. Hang tight!"
“There’s one stop I’d like to make before heading upstairs,” you say, knowing you do not want to leave the prison in your current hand-me-down clothes. “It’s around the corner.”
~ TIME: 9:54PM
Once you've successfully retrieved and changed into your hero suit, along with collecting your cellphone, the three of you proceeded to the second floor to meet up with Midoriya and Todoroki. You can't help but notice how the material hangs from your frame and no longer hugs you comfortably. It's to be expected, all things considered. Even though they fed you, the stress was more than enough to cause you to lose weight and muscle strength over the course of the month. If anything, it pissed you off to know you'd have to work hard to build back your prior stamina. 
They didn't bother to wash the damn suit, either. It thankfully didn't smell, per se, but was covered in aged splatters of dirt and grime. Your phone screen was also cracked, hinting that the lady who helped you dropped it "for effect," or some other stupid excuse to inconvenience you.
Your ears perk up at the sound of voices around the corner as Uraraka, Kirishima and yourself are approaching the second floor corridor. 
"There's only 10 hostages here, that's strange," Midoriya explains aloud, presumably to Todoroki. "I thought the reports noted more than 10. Maybe I'm misremembering..." his voice tapers off as he begins mumbling to himself. Oh how you've missed the sound of his rambling, something so minuscule but endearing about him. 
The three of you come into view, catching both of the boys' attention. Midoriya's eyes whip up toward you, emeralds glistening when they widen under the pale hallway lights. He’s charges down the hall to you, tripping over his own steps from the pure adrenaline pumping through his veins. 
"Izuku!" you cry out when his body engulfs yours, gripping onto the back of his costume and squeezing the material as you buried your face into his shoulder. You can't help the tears reforming in your eyes as he spins you around, overwhelmed with joy to see you safe and sound. Before you can stop the tears, you're sobbing into the crook of his neck - a combination of relief and dread. 
"Hey...it's alright, Y/N. You're safe," he soothes. "It's okay."
Midoriya places your feet back on the floor, pulling back and cradling your face tenderly. Not surprising, he's got tears pricking at the corners of his eyes, too. He wipes some of the tears from your eyes with his gloved hand.
"Are you alright? Are you hurt anywhere?" he asks, dropping your face from his hands while assessing your body for any visible harm. 
"N-no. Couple bruises, but that's about it," you stutter, a sudden tremble taking over your body. "Quirk's not..." you trail off while your vision dilates out of focus for a second. Midoriya doesn't skip a beat and catches you by the shoulders.
"Save your energy, Y/N. I'll carry you upstairs, okay?" his smile is genuine, but you can tell it's laced with anxiety. "We'll get you back to the entrance with Ashido and Jiro, they're keeping watch outside. We'll get the hostages out of here, too."
You nod, the vitality within you draining at a brutal pace. Could it be withdraw symptoms of the quirk suppressant? Is it possible to get addicted to such a drug? You're not sure what in the hell they mixed with the drug itself, it seemed to be different concoctions with each test. You're praying to any deity that would listen to be free of this hell.
Midoriya gives you a quick peck to your forehead before turning around, arms out and ready to lift you onto his back. Uraraka places a hand on your back to help you into his hold, securing your arms around his neck and legs tucked at his sides. 
"Uraraka, Kirishima, come help me gather the hostages," Todoroki notions, waving a hand to the cells at the end of the corridor. 
"Go ahead, I'll regroup with Kacchan upstairs and get her to safety," Midoriya vows with determination. The others hum in acknowledgement as the party separates.
~ TIME: 10:02PM Bakugo's stalking the area of the first floor, seeing a bunch of empty laboratories and rooms with no one in them. No one has reported any sightings of scientists, workers, or anything since they broke into the compound.
What the hell? Ears said this place was rattling with vibrations. Somethin's not right.
He's habitually calm during patrol missions, but now? His nerves are on fire, shoulders tensed from the stress in his heart. Bakugo couldn't shake his intuition, guts churning with unease at the silence of the facility. A faint scraping sound catches his attention, spinning on his heel with an arm raised. Taking careful steps, he makes his way back toward the entrance and into, what he presumed, the large concourse.
"It's about time one of you shows up," a woman's voice calls out, reverberating off the walls. Bakugo jumps back a few feet, gauntlets raised and hands prepared to fire explosions at any second.
"Who the fuck are you?" he seethes, biting the inside of his cheek to prevent his anger from overflowing. 
He hates that his gut feeling was right. ~ TIME: 10:12PM Midoriya is taking his time with you on his back, vigilantly navigating the two of you to the first floor. He's attempting to keep you as steady as possible, even though you've told him multiple times you're unharmed. Your head is tucked against the back of his shoulder.
"You holding up okay?" he asks, tilting his head back toward you.
"Yeah, thank you. I feel like if I let you go, I'll float away," you mutter, bitting your lip to prevent more tears from spilling out of your eyes. You're so fed up with crying, not wanting to be perceived as weak - a damsel in distress. Midoriya would never think you're anything less than strong, and you knew that in your heart, but still can't help feeling powerless in the moment.
He gives a reassuring squeeze to the back of your thighs. "Don't worry, no one will take you away from us ever again."
BOOM!
Midoriya halts in surprise, looking upward as the floor shook. The sound shakes you out of your self-deprecating chain of thought.
"Kacchan?! What's going on?" he asks frantically into his earpiece. There's static on the other line - no response. A few more explosions ring out above you two, increasing in succession.
"Dammit! Hang on tight," Midoriya warns, rocketing down the hallway while green energy begins crackling around his legs.  ~ TIME: 10:14PM "Talk about jumping the gun," the woman taunts Bakugo, sneering in his direction from across the lobby. "Afraid of the presence of a strong woman?"
Bakugo stood his ground, eyes fixated on the woman in the lab coat before him. Was he scared of her? Fuck no, not in the slightest. The thing that frightened him was she was alone - no one else showing their face in the facility thus far. Where was the man that took you away into the portal? Or any of the "henchmen" from that night?
"What an honor to have a top ten hero visit our lovely establishment, especially number four himself."
"Don't flatter yourself, especially 'cause you're alone," Bakugo yells back at her. He's trying to weed out the possibility of a sneak attack and rile up the woman to reveal her hidden defense. He knows she's got backup here, but where the fuck are they be hiding?
"Am I, though? I thought heroes were trained to have keener senses." 
Shadows appear on each side of her as her words hang in the room, revealing two more white cloaked men armed with dart guns. They simultaneously aim at Bakugo, the canisters reflecting the dark liquid in the chambers under the dim lighting.
Shit...! ~ TIME: 10:15PM Midoriya is approaching the open lobby with Bakugo in his sights in the main concourse. You can see over his shoulder that he's standing defensively, presuming that the enemy finally played their ace. 
"Izuku, I need you to launch me in front of Katsuki," you instruct, pointing a finger to his location.
"What?! No! I need to get you out of here," he retorts, shaking his head.
"Izuku. Please." 
Midoriya huffs, knowing you will not take no for an answer. Your heart is in the right place - he's right. You're in a weakened state, you should be rushing to the exit.
But that's not what heroes do. ~ TIME: 10:16PM "It was nice of that naïve little bitch to drag more heroes into our testing ring! Want a sample, darling?" She boasts, one hand on her hip as she points toward Bakugo with the other. "I think he'd benefit from it."
Bakugo hears a dart gun fire, but is distracted by a burst of energy shot out of a nearby corridor, blinding him momentarily with its radiance. He covers his eyes with his gauntlets, bracing himself for a surprise attack from the front as he takes a knee to the ground. He could hear the sounds of feet scuffing in front of him, along with glass hitting the ground, as if someone slid in from the sidelines. 
It wasn't an attack - no, it was a defensive shot. He squinted to sharpen the image of the shadow of whoever rushed to his defense, assuming it was Midoriya.
Time ceases its natural flow as Bakugo realizes who’s standing in front of him. He was speechless, mouth agape as he couldn't help the few stray tears fall from his awestricken eyes and roll over the leather of his mask. 
A glimmering energy shield danced in front of the two of you as you peer over your shoulder, shooting him wink and a smile.
"It's fine now, Dynamight. Why? Because I am here!"
Bakugo snorts, laughing hysterically at the absurd comment. His laugh is contagious and gets you giggling - your heart soars into the heavens hearing his laughter again, his joy curing the darkness swirling in your head temporarily. You never thought a moment like this would return to you anytime soon, and yet here you are, cackling at a dumb joke with your best friend on the damn battlefield. 
"Get up already, idiot," you chuckle, turning toward and extending a hand for him to take. His signature shit-eating grin spreads over his lips as he takes your hand with no hesitation.
"You came," you whisper, his hand lingering in your grasp.
Bakugo smiles, his eyes the gentlest you've ever seen them. "You called."
He tugs you into a hug, careful not to crush you too much with his gauntlets. He wants to melt into a puddle with the way you're clutching onto him like you can't get close enough, burrowing your face into his chest. You breathe him in, the faint scent of burnt sugar filling your senses while clawing at the back of his hero suit, not able to contain the heartache of being apart for so long - how it could have been your final days in this wretched hell.
Finally - you're reunited. You've found him, and he's found you. 
Everything's going to be...okay.
"Y/N, Kacchan - watch out!" Midoriya calls from hall, black whip vines reaching for the two of you. 
But it's too late. 
Again.
The energy barrier crackles behind you as it evaporates into the air. Everything begins to fade into a haze, that all too familiar filtered vision returning to you. Soon enough, you're slumping into Bakugo, your feet failing to keep you upright. 
"H-hey! What's wrong?!" he panics, clutching you tighter as your arms go limp, letting go of his back. "Talk to me, Y/N! What's happening?!"
That's when Bakugo peers over your shoulder and sees one of the dart capsules stuck in the back of your thigh, the injection mechanism switched on with an empty vial. There's a set of broken glass nearby, but that was only one of the darts. The second broke through the forcefield, your quirk not strong enough to parry both shots.
You can take it - you've endured it for a month. 
What's one more dose?
"Fuck! Lite-brite, hang on, I got ya," he reassures while taking a knee, lying you down as daintily as he can before ripping the dart from your thigh. You don't react - shit, you can't even feel the needle being pulled from your skin. He watches your eyes glaze over, their usual shine lightless under whatever chemicals are working their way through your system. 
"K-Ka-Kat-suki...," you whimper through broken syllables, unable to form a coherent sentence. 
Bakugo strokes your shoulders. “I’m here, I’m not leavin' ya.”
"Aww, what a lovely reunion!" the woman chimes in mockingly, regaining Bakugo's attention. The guards next to her have sheathed their guns and stand with their arms crossed.
"Color me surprised that she not only has connections to top ranked heroes, but close relationships with them? Talk about luck."
"What did you do to her?!" Bakugo's chest tightens, fury brewing hotter within himself. Midoriya makes his way over and slides to the ground beside Bakugo in a defensive stance.
"Little miss hero has been such an obedient subject, our best results thus far. Her quirk factors are strong - exactly what we were looking for."
"What did you give her?!" Midoriya repeats, eyes narrowing in her direction. 
The lady cackles to herself, proud of her accomplishments in breaking you from the inside out for her own benefit. 
"She was gullible enough to believe I was an undercover hero! I let her reach out so it would be easier to round up more test subjects - especially heroes. These civilian quirks were getting tiresome and boring to study." 
You were so fucking stupid for believing her. How could you be so naïve? The torture of this place was getting to be too much...you needed a miracle, no matter how narrow the possibility of escape looked. The desperation to be free was stronger than the ability to see through her lies. 
"She fell into our laps at the perfect time. Her psionic energy quirk has been groundbreaking for our serums, especially the hallucination and forced quirk exertion compounds. Speaking of, that one should be kicking in any minute now."
On queue, your body begins to twitch on its own, a surge of energy zapping you back to life. It's as if you're being puppeteered by an invisible handler, rising from the ground and to your feet. 
Both boys rocket to their feet, taking a guarded step back from you. Your head hangs low while your fingers flex, a glow emanating from your palms. Before they can ask any questions, your head snaps up at them, a spellbound look in your now flickering irises. 
"-the fuck?" Bakugo mutters, a horrified expression on his face. The pain is excruciating as the pressure of the energy is begging to be released in any way possible. You can't vocalize the pain through your quivering lips, the only hint at the anguish being the lone tear streaming down your face. 
"Now, subject 57 - begin sequence 23," the lady dictates, clapping her hands.
The instinct to fight becomes impossible to ignore, drowning out all of your attempts to regain control of your body. Instead, you're on auto-pilot, launching an attack toward Bakugo and Midoriya. They dodge out of your range, but you pivot lightning quick toward Midoriya, gunning to attack him.
"Hey, it's me! Izuku!" he yells as he weaves through your strikes, thinking it could wake you up from the mind control of the drug. "You know me!"
You successfully land an energetically charged punch to the right side of Midoriya's jaw, knocking him backward before kicking him in the chest and sending him skidding across the concrete. 
Bakugo approaches you from behind while you're distracted, gripping your shoulders firmly. 
"Calm down! We can work-"
You silence him by placing a hand on both his gauntlets, not bothering to turn and face him. Shockwaves of energy come bursting from your hands - his gauntlets shatter into pieces instantly, leaving his arms and face cut open from the shards. Next thing he knows, your fist is connecting to the underside of his jaw.
Bakugo grunts from the impact, gritting his teeth as he's trying to hold onto you a second time. 
"Hey! I know you're in there!"
Should we answer the door, or slam it in his face? 
…who the fuck is in my head?!
The devilish grin settling on your lips is enough to send shivers down his spine - that's not you. Something’s gotta be fucking with you in your head from the drugs. He swallows nervously, not knowing what to do to help you. You shove him away from you with an energy blast to the chest, sending him careening to the concrete like Midoriya. 
Your chest is heaving, huffing and puffing as the drug surges through every avenue of your body. You can barely form a cohesive thought, let alone understand what's happening around you. It's as if you are seeing yourself through a kaleidoscope lens - this unknown version of you  in the drivers seat. 
“What a marvelous display of success!” The woman cheers, hands clasped in front of her happily. “The ‘Overdrive’ serum is exceptional in true combat.”
Something whips at you from behind and wraps around your arms and torso. 
“Stay…still!” Midoriya shouts, pulling the black whip vines taut to keep you in place. You wiggle in its grasp, grunting and thrashing around like a caged animal. 
“Ah, fuck that hurt…Deku! Let her go,” Bakugo calls out as he’s picking himself up off the ground, wincing at the pain in his jaw. “I got her. Take care of that bitch in the coat!”
“But Kacchan, the drug-”
“Trust me, dammit! Let her go before I make you!”
Midoriya retracts black whip as it releases its hold on you. He’s about to leap toward the group of scientists when the rest of the rescue team appears with the hostages in tow, scurrying down the far hallway. He motions for them to keep going to their exit as planned. Uraraka shoots him a nod and thumbs up. 
“Huh? Who opened the cell locks?!” The lady yells, pointing to the rescue team as they disappear down the corridor to freedom. She’s about to charge after them when Midoriya stomps in her path, fists raised in preparation to fight. 
“Your fight’s with me, lady. No matter what, you’re under arrest according to the laws of hero society. You can surrender, or I can make you surrender.”
“It’s gonna take a lot more than a threat to bring us in, hero. We’re making world changing progress that's far beyond your jurisdiction.”
Midoriya winds back and jumps into action against the scientists. Meanwhile, Bakugo’s got his eyes locked on you on the far side of the room, gesturing for you to come over to him. 
“I’m not gonna hurt ya, I don’t wanna fight,” he starts, taking cautious steps in your direction to close the gap between you two. “I wanna help, Lite-brite. I know you're in there.” 
You can't trust him, he's a monster and you're his prey. He's only here to hurt you, to keep you down. Don't let him near us...don't let him near us!
He stops in his tracks when you visibly recoil, clutching your head in your hands with a blood curdling scream. Midoriya whips his head around to the sound, catching him off guard and causing him to take a hit from one of the men. He shakes it off, trusting Bakugo with your well being instead of rushing to your side. 
Bakugo sprints to you, wrapping his blood stained arms around you with no hesitation. You flail, smacking at his arms with open palms, weakened energy pouring out of you with each hit.
Hurt...kill him. Take the monster down.
"Let go of me, Katsuki!" you shriek out of nowhere, hopelessly trying to shove him away from you. 
"No! I'm never letting you go again!" he shouts back, squeezing you tighter. The bursts of energy from your palms are kicking up in strength again as you continue to swat at his body, red marks forming on his exposed skin. 
"I'm not fuckin' losing you a second goddamn time!" 
He can tell that you're spiraling, that this serum is driving you mad inside your head. If only he could go into your mind and pluck out those vicious thoughts, free you of the agony and take some of that weight onto his shoulders.
If you don't take care of him, I'll make you.
"I don't want to hurt you, I can't control this!" You're sobbing, the looming thoughts forcing you to wallow in the pain. "Please...!"
Bakugo grapples the back of your suit, the neoprene material bunched in his shaky hands, locking in his decision to stay put. "I can take it...don't you dare let me go!"
Something in his declaration to stay by your side snaps you back to reality, enough to control the output of your quirk for a split second, stopping the outbursts of energy. The clouds in your eyes start to disperse, clearing the fog from your sight.
You can fight me all you want. I'll always be part of you, waiting in the shadows for you to break again. 
No words leave you as tears gush from your swollen eyes, bawling against Bakugo's chest in defeat. He loosens his grip to pull you away from him, forcibly making eye contact with you. His heart sinks at the sight of your bloodshot stare, but he can see that you're eyes are not as nebulous as before, energy no longer dancing around your pupils. Maybe the drug is wearing off? It's hasn't been an hour, but it's possible this version has a shorter fuse than the normal quirk suppressant.
"No need to cry," he comforts, thumbing away the tears dribbling off your chin. "Everythin's fine. See? Just a few scratches." He points to his biceps and cheek, tiny cuts from the shards of his gauntlets explosively bursting apart. 
That well-known lightheadedness from past experiments returns tenfold, your body's energy depleted to nothing. Bakugo must see the exhaustion in your body language as he helps you settle onto the ground. He takes the mask off his face, untying the back of it. 
"Sit back for a sec."
Bakugo pushes the hair out of your face and runs his hand into your hairline, brushing it back as he stretches the leather of the mask over your forehead. He ties a small knot at the back and tucks it under the remainder of your hair, creating a makeshift headband. Once he's satisfied with it, he taps the earpiece to call into the rescue team.
"Need someone to call the agency, get the cops here an' round up these assholes."
Kirishima responds instantly. "You wanna call the agency? I thought-"
Bakugo cuts him off. "Change'a plans. Get on it, Red! And have Cheeks come back down, need her to lift Lite-brite outta here." He huffs before tapping the earpiece a second time to disconnect the line and casts his eyes toward Midoriya. Two of the scientists are knocked unconscious, the only person left being the witch that started it all.
Bakugo's attention is drawn back to you at the sound of your sniffling. Your tears have dried on your cheeks, faint stains reflecting in the light. He knows you're safe now, no longer lashing out uncontrollably from the fucked up substance in your system. You look like you could collapse and pass out at any moment, but are fighting the urge to let yourself rest.
"Hey," he mumbles, almost too quiet to hear. You turn, head tilted to the side like it's too heavy for your neck to hold, blinking lazily at him.
Even in this disheveled state, Bakugo is aching to kiss you. He knows it's not the right time, not even close to the perfect moment, but the desire burning a hole in his chest is difficult to ignore. Fuck - he didn't even know if he was ever going to see you again outside of his dreams, and here you are.  ~ TIME: 10:38PM "You think you have me cornered, don't you?" the lady jeers at Midoriya. "A revolution is upon us - my revolution. My masterpiece is ready."
Without warning, she pulls a dart gun out of her lab coat, positioning it against her jugular vein. The sounds of her wicked snickering fill the concourse as the dart gun fires, injecting an unknown toxic into her bloodstream.
"Kacchan!" Midoriya cries out, catching Bakugo's attention. "We've got a problem!"
The dart gun clatters to the ground as the scientist convulses, her limbs spasming unnaturally as she wails in pain. She composes herself after a moment, raising her gaze from the floor to Midoriya, her eyes aflame with energy pulsing out of them.
Holy shit. 
She's got your quirk.
"Not so tough now, boys! Now come on, let's dance!"
⋆ ˚ʚɞ — i'm so, sooooo sorry for the delay on this chapter! hopefully it being the longest in the series makes up for it! i honestly just kept writing, deleting, writing, deleting for over a month. but i'm content with this. enjoy the ride! ⇢  tag list! @bakugouswaif @k1tk4tkatsuki @bells2319 @st0nedbitch @deftonianfr @musicbecky @bakubae-by @slayfics @maddietries
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pixiekwixie · 1 year
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The Observation - 1
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➺ Miguel O'Hara x Reader || Mature, 18+
➺ Summary - In which Miguel struggles to keep his hands and eyes off his lab assistant.
- Next chapter
➺ warnings - slow burn(?), kissing/making out(?), lot sexual tension, story night be long sorry, some choking, some biting, masturbating (nipple play, fingering, dildo usage, anal play, double orgasm), mentions of breeding
➺ words - 3.7k
➺ notes: i had to get this off my chest, there will be 2 more parts to this, i hope you guys enjoy it. this is also cross-posted to (depending on where you're reading this) tumblr, and ao3; let me know what you guys think; might also write some wholesome sunshine x moody stuff in the future if it works out :)
--- 🕷 ---
"Hey" a voice said from the corner. Startled, you whip your head back to find Jessica caressing her tummy as she sat down on a chair, making herself quite at home. She was a couple of months along now and, by the looks of it, very comfortable in her pajamas.
"Jess, it's not safe for you and the baby...." you sigh, looking back at your computer to resume your work. Jessica urged you to take a break, to sit down and have a conversation but you only shrugged it off by mentioning you were almost done.
"You know, I'd thought you'd hate working here" she watched your back, waiting for a reaction. "There's a lot of wonderful technology here that my Earth doesn't have..." you trail off, focusing more on the work in front of you. You were so close to the end, and although Jess was wonderful, you just wanted to finish things before relaxing.
"I meant, I thought you'd hate working for Miguel"
You looked back at her with furrowed brows, pausing your work, she knew what made you tick and used that to her advantage. Miguel was your boss and there was nothing to hate except his attitude. Sometimes you couldn't stand him, but the combination of advanced technology, your own space, and a mini fridge- definitely outweighed any of his moodiness. It took a lot of convincing for you to join, and had you known he was this broody you probably wouldn't have joined.
At the beginning, you were stubborn on joining the Spider Society because you had thought it was a pity invite, given that you felt you were more intelligent than agile. Although you admit your body was pretty strong and durable- it was only because your parents had enrolled you in a strenuous amount of classes that ranged from dance to karate- and even cooking. The classes had helped with getting into a good college that allowed you to pursue your dream career, but you never sought out anything besides yoga.
When you got bitten by a radioactive Black Widow you thought it was the end of your story, that your years of classes and college were coming to an end, eventually you realized that you weren't actually dying. And as time went on you started to see the new things you could do, and you embraced them. You were excited, you began practicing moves and spent a lot of time learning how to use your webs properly. You felt like you could become a hero, save lives, and become a beacon of hope for your city.
After some rough events that left you feeling depressed, you decided that becoming a hero was no longer something you could pursue. You felt upset about your own decision for days, you felt useless doing nothing but you felt the same way doing something. The life of a hero felt emotionally, and physically, taxing on yourself and the people around you. With time you managed to overcome the guilt and began to understand that there were different ways save people.
Your new path was to be promoted at the Alchemax company in your world- they were good, you had deemed it so after hearing what they had done in other Earths. Eventually you wanted to lead a research department that could help hospitals, and homeless, worldwide.
Even though the current path was similar to that of a superhero, you still felt an immense guilt in your chest. You thought that your powers were a miracle that should be used, but you couldn't, it's not what you wanted anymore and if you went back now- it would only make things worse.
Miguel had spent many months sending Jessica to your dimension to convince you to join the Spider Society. Every time you gave a different reason to reject the offer, feeling as though you wouldn't bring much value to the team.
It only took the man himself showing up at your apartment, on a Tuesday at 3 am, for you to join. He explained thoroughly why he wanted you, although crude, you felt recognized for something other than your powers. It felt like he provided the missing reassurance you needed, you joined.
"He leaves me alone for the most part, the only interactions we have is him sending me emails, and me going to his 'office' to give him his drugs for the week," you let out a soft laugh, you had to admit, was very handsome under all of the stress, responsibility and arrogance. Despite his handsome looks, you still thought he was an asshole that needed to comprehend people better.
"He's demanding though, and... AND rude" rising from you chair, you scrunch your nose and walk to the coffee machine. There's only so much water could do for your nerves if you continued to speak about Miguel's attitude, as of recent it had been worse and you had no idea why. You tried to understand but he'd only shut you out and demand you leave him alone.
"He just want things to go accordingly for the multiverse... even if he's a little-"
"Harsh? Come on, he basically called me useless the other day because I misread the number seven- SEVEN" you raise your voice while adding stuff to your coffee. Holding the sugar container in one hand with a tight grip, it made you upset that he wasn't considerate of his words. You had worked hard to prove he could trust you, and that he hadn't made the wrong choice but his attitude made it hard to work with him.
"That's why I've been late on my reports, ideas, paperwork AND his serum. He needs to learn to respect people, especially me, who makes sure he doesn't go apeshit" Jessica raised an eyebrow at your statement, sure you could be late on paperwork but, being late to give him his liquid gold? The thing he needed to not lash out on his instincts? The thing that helped him keep his powers? She almost thought it was cruel, but she knew you felt stressed and didn't want to make it worst by making you feel bad.
"That sounds cruel but I promise it's not-"
Before Jessica could reply, a deeper voice spoke.
"Oh yeah? Let's talk about that"
It was Miguel and your heard started to pound faster, your hand gripped your coffee cup tight in hope that he hadn't heard what you said. Your nerves grew as you looked around and watched him emerge from a corner, his suit glowing bright with every step, even the way he walked spoke volume about his attitude.
Sure, you had problems with him but you sure as hell were not telling him about them, it's the last thing you needed. He had practically built this place from the ground up and could see everything that everyone was doing if he wanted to- even you, sometimes it creeped you but at this moment it felt erotic.
"Miguel she's stressed she probably didn't mean it, give her a break" Jess watched his back at he made his way towards you, "This isn't about you Jess" he spoke with a quick glance at her, her face dropped to a stoic expression that scared you and it wasn't even directed towards you.
"Miguel" you groan as you watched him walk towards you, hands on his hips as his eyes narrowed at you through his mask.
"I need to talk with you" he leaned down a little to your level, the eyes on his mask narrowed to mirror his face under it. Was he really that mad at what you had said? It's not like he hasn't said worse, except he usually doesn't feel bad about it.
Something about his proximity made you hot despite the growing tension, but it wasn't the nerves anymore, you suddenly felt hyper aware of everything around you but it all slowly led down to the man I front of you, something about him made you feel this way, something smelled so good and it was coming from him, was he wearing some type of cologne? What was so different?
"S-Seriously, you could at least tell me beforehan-"
"You wanna explain to me why-"
"Oh wow, I have to go to the gyno" Jess said abruptly while slowly getting up from her chair. You and Miguel turn to her with confused looks at the sudden declare but her eyes held the same expression as before.
She raised her hand to stop you from saying anything.
"I'm not gonna stick around for an argument, you two need to figure it out" she spoke with a look to Miguel. With a brief smile towards you she walked out the doors that shut behind her and the tension in the air became more obvious as the two of you were left alone.
"I give you one job, and it's to follow my formula, but instead you decide to be unprofessional and talk about me behind my back" Miguel's brows knit together as he looked down at you with glowing red eyes. You tried speak but nothing came out, not because you were intimidated, but because you felt your chest heave with heat at the sight of his crimson eyes.
Closing your eyes you take a deep breath to center yourself and shake off the feeling of imploding heat that was blossoming at your core. Looking back at him you found him pacing round while he muttered things in Spanish that made your tummy churn, pushing your feelings aside you take a deep breathe to center yourself.
Was this a hormonal imbalance?
"Why does it bother you so much this time? I told you 2 weeks ago I was backed up with stuff on my earth and that your-" You were abruptly interrupted with the speedy sight of him in front of you, his eyes were darker and held an intense look like he was analyzing your every feature. He was so close you could feel his breathing tickle the skin of your cheeks, it made the heat blossom inside of you again.
"I've been trying to hold it together and you think it's a game?" He seethed, inching closer until you could practically brush your nose against his, your heart pounded at the notion he was merely inches from being able to kiss you. Forgetting the coffee in your hand you attempt to raise a hand to his cheek but he stopped you by grabbing your wrist with a fast motion, the grip was tight but not hurtful. With a small wince you look up at him again only to see dark look wash over his features, were his eyes more vibrant now?
"Don't," he snarled, not breaking contact with your eyes. Why did you find his anger so attractive? There was something behind that look in his eyes that was pulling you in, the more you stood together the more your body felt attracted to him, so much so that you were starting to feel turned on with your walls pulsed in an erratic way that needed him.
Why the fuck is this happening?
"Y/n" he whispered in a way that made your back shiver, you noticed his eyes look relaxed and rather dazed like he was hot under his suit. Could he be feeling the same way as you? Did he want you as well?
"Y-Yes?" your voice was shaky, breathy, and basically pleading for him for him to do something.
His face slowly leaned down into yours, turning to the side only to brush his lips softly against yours w. Your eyes widened, you could practically hear your heart pounding in your ears as he finally pressed his lips against yours.
Moving against your lips slowly he lowered your wrist to the table behind you. The same hand he used now held your hip steadily as the kiss grew deeper, heavier, and wetter. His tongue prodded your lips and with a small squeeze to your hip you allowed for his tongue to explore your mouth.
Your head felt hazy, and your core pulsed more than before in anticipation. Pulling away from your mouth with a string of saliva connecting you both, you bat your eyelashes up at him with the hope that things progress into something more intimate.
His breathing was rapid yet heavy, and his eyes were full of lust and want with the way you looked up at him. His grip on your hip tightened as his eyelids drooped to admire the saliva on your lip that threatened to fall, before it could drip down to your chin he smashed his lips onto yours- licking the saliva into his own mouth.
His tongue lapped at your lips, and pushed through to feel every crevice within your mouth. With shaky hands you place your arms around his neck as you let him do whatever he pleased, weaving your fingertips into his hair you tug on them a bit which only earned a deep groan from him.
Pulling back from you, he stared intently into your eyes before abruptly wrapping a hand around your throat and applying pressure to the sides. Your eyes closed and your core pulsed repeatedly at the tightness of his hands around your neck, moaning softly into his face you open your eyes to find a droplet of sweat on his forehead.
"You like that, hm? Princesa?" He whispered into your ear, a whiny moan escaped your throat at the feelings of his lips on your ear, using the hand on your neck he maneuvered your face to the side- leaving your neck exposed to him.
You could feel your nipples were fully erect as they pressed uncomfortably against the material of your bra. Opening your eyes, you look down at him only see an intense, and hungry look on his face. Keeping his eyes locked onto yours he pressed his lips onto the delicate skin of your neck, planting small kisses that burnt onto your flesh in a savory manner that made your core gush with arousal.
"M-Miguel..." you mutter as you close your eyes to bask in the pleasure of his lips on your skin, tightening the grip on your throat he bit onto your neck unexpectedly. Gasping at the bite, your fingers held tightly at the hand he had wrapped around your neck- using it to stabilize yourself as he started sucking at your neck, the way his lips enveloped your skin and his tongue worked against you felt like he was trying to feed himself off you.
His actions came to a stop, the hand on your neck had gone too and you opened your eyes to be greeted by an empty view of your lab filled with bright-lit screens and papers scattered. Just like it was before Miguel appeared. Lifting your hand up to your neck you feel the marks of his teeth along with the saliva on your neck that left a warm spot at the touch. In a moment of heat and desperation you bring those fingers to your mouth and suck on them, he was gone for now and and the only trace you had of him was the remnants of his mouth n your neck. Sucking and licking the tips of your fingers making sure to intake any trace there was of him, moaning into your fingers you suck the tips before pulling them out and imagining they were his.
You were still in a hazy view of want and need for him, it would be hard to forget this moment if you saw him again. With blouse and slowly sat down on the floor, holding your chest with both hands you try to slow down your breathing.
"Where did you go..." you whisper to yourself as a pang of sadness hit your chest at the thought he left during a moment where you weren't arguing for once. It had all felt so good but to you, it would've felt better if he had stayed.
Calming down and regulating your breath you realized you would have to see him tomorrow to give him his dose for the next week. You didn't know if you wanted to see again after leaving you just like that.
You hated him for leaving you like that without a trace but you hated that you wanted so much more than just a couple nips to the neck.
--- 🕷 ---
Back in your universe, you were laid in bed watching TV as you thought about the events of earlier, the things he whispered into your ear, the way he touched you, the way his lips felt on your neck and the tight embrace he held around your neck.
Throwing the blankets off you head off your dresser where your dildo was. You had never really used it before as you were always busy with work but today was different, there was a man that awoke something inside of you that had laid dormant. And that man was your boss, Miguel.
Kicking your bottoms off you lie down on your bed again and spread your legs open letting cool air hit your nether lips in a tantalizing way. Discarding the dildo to the side, you bring one of your hands down to your pussy, rubbing in an upwards motion that spread the wetness up to your clit. Groaning at the sensation you rub your erect clit in a slow circular motion, the feeling alone had you throwing your head back with a breathy moan.
You drew your legs up and in until it was just your core fully exposed to the atmosphere of your room, circling your clit faster you used your other hand to lift up your shirt and and rub at your nipples with a feathery touch. The simultaneous stimulation made you moan as you felt your walls clench fast, you had been so desperate to relieve yourself that you could cum at any moment.
Pulling and twisting your nipples you start going faster, your breathing becoming more erratic and you could feel the coil in your abdomen start to come undone but before you could finish you stopped. Your pussy quivered at the denial as your chest hiccupped from the intensity of being so close to the end, it felt like your entire body was spasming and dripping with heat from the denial.
You throw your shirt off quickly and lie back down to spread yourself open again. Rubbing your fingers up and down with a moan you slowly insert two fingers inside of your wet warm walls that quivered around the length of your digits. Pumping your fingers in and out slowly you moan at the idea of his fingers being the ones inside you filling up your throbbing pussy. Hooking your finger in a little you lift you back from the bed at the sensation of your softest spot, pumping in particularly hard at an angle that made you pussy drip more liquid gold onto your sheets.
Your walls pulsed erratically around your fingers as you sped up, your mouth contorting into an 'o' as you felt yourself growing closer. Bringing your other hand down to rub your clit at the same pace you moaned his name as you continued to imagine it was him driving his fingers into your wet hole.
"F-Fuck M-Miguel-" your clit quivered and the coil in your belly came undone, your insides gripped onto your digits harder trying to prevent them from leaving, your body secreting juices that trickled down your anus and sheets.
Pulling your fingers out reluctantly you slide them down to your anus and circle the rim in a slow teasing manner that aroused you again. Pushing a finger inside your eyes fluttered at the pressure- you began to pump in and out in a very slow motion using the wetness from before that made it easier to move in and out.
With your other hand you rub the head of the dildo on your clit in a fast circular motion, hooking the finger in your ass you pumped faster while your clit quivered into a second orgasm. The walls of your ass started to clench as your finger brushed on the soft spot that sent shockwaves to your pussy. You started panting heavily as your pussy and ass throbbed simultaneously, getting closer towards being tipped over the edge you went faster, until your pussy started dripping onto the sheets again.
Pulling the finger out of your ass with a small pop, you grab the dildo and line up the tip with your dripping hole, you felt anxious and excited to be filled up with something thicker than your digits. You slowly ease the tip in, and with a loud moan you began to push the rest of the length inside of you until it fit snuggly in your walls.
"Miguel... fuck me p-please..." you whined as your pulled the dildo all the way out only to smack it back in, pumping in and out with a steady speed where length brushed against every itch within your walls that needed to be filled. Your started getting faster as you thought about him pumping himself inside of your pussy to breed you and use you for his own pleasure.
Your tummy churned as you started to near the edge again, the images of him bent over you driving his cock inside of you, filling you with his cum and knocking you up was enough to to send you over the edge. You slowly rode out your orgasm with the image of him painting your insides full of his seed and filling you up until you were dripping onto the sheets. Coming down to a stop you sighed as you body shook at the intensity, no one had ever made you so wet just by thinking about them.
Your body ached and yearned for him, it was truly strange as you had never felt this way for anyone before. Miguel was different and something about him had set your body ablaze in a way you couldn't stop.
"How the fuck am I going to face him tomorrow..."
--- 🕷 ---
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starfirette · 2 years
Text
School Reunion
He was a a lithe figure of all rhyme and very little reason...
...especially he gestured for you to come closer. Tousled tufts of soft, brown hair flopped over his forehead, not so strictly gelled back today. His hair was ultimately the first thing that warmed you up to him. His previous face was undoubtedly your first, true love--all blue eyes and ears, knit sweaters under leather jackets, and a secret soft side...
❇Tenth Doctor x Fem Reader
❇hmmmm this took a month to perfect! I shall page @bellaswansrealgf because this does indeed have a size kink portion :)) this is cross posted to my ao3 (username is the same if you want to check that out!)
❇ masterlist | 17+ | size kink goes brr | cheeky Tenth doctor | "Mr Smith" | Sexual Roleplay | Vaginal Fingering | Penis In Vagina Sex | Age Difference kinda technically | this word is so gross but I have to put it in the tags Squirting | Also some degradation | Overstimulation | Creampie | switchy Tenth doctor, but he's a dom rn | Older Man/Younger Woman and teacher student vibes but also not really
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You were the illustrious and young English teacher, and he was the older, more experienced Physics teacher.
But it had only been a game. It was the ruse for a job at some school.
Of course you had "just" graduated college; you needed a guided hand to show you how to handle those rowdy students. "Professor Smith," you said as you batted your eyelashes. The size difference between you two was enough to make you squirm, thighs clenched and heart beating in anticipation. 
"Poor thing," 'Mr Smith' had said. His hand is ruffling up the chiffon of your knee length skirt. "You're so needy for attention. You'd take any bit of attention from even the science teacher." 
You wouldn't yet go into further detail of what conspired that day. After all, it was a little bit inappropriate of you two to do such fooling around during the hours of an investigation. Rose would have been livid to know that while she was slinging chips and pizza to students and staff, you and the Doctor were rather preoccupied with teaching not the students but yourselves just how Miss [L/n] and Mr Smith ought to behave. 
Of course, the roleplay was divine. Mr Smith was a role that the Doctor deeply enjoyed to act with, especially when it came to shamelessly flirting with you as if he didn't know you. You suspect he had all his fun that way. 
Apart from the canoodling in the workplace, everything else was really a ruse. The way it all started is a little bit convulated, but Rose heard from Mickey who must have heard from someone else that strange things were going on back in her hometime. (Hometime was a bit of a private joke between you, Rose, and the Doctor, it's a play on the word hometown! You and the Doctor fight for the credit of who actually coined the term but Rose often sides with the argument that you truly did.) The Doctor went into full dramatic effect, as he tends to do, and he created you a full fledged identity and a college degree. In real life (for lack of a better term)you're almost done with college where you're honestly pursuing a degree for English Literature.
The Doctor surprised you with the position at this school. Albeit it's undercover, he wanted you to have some fun. His face lit up like the lights on a Christmas tree when he saw how excited you were. Granted, this was a far cry from being an English professor at a prestigious university, as you drunkenly confessed to his prior face while celebrating the win against the nanogenes during the second World War. Though he looked different then,  he still loved you with the same, big heart. 
Hearts. 
Force of habit. 
Day One of the mission was the easiest mostly because day one didn't require real work. Rose helped you research the winning numbers for some lottery tickets. She dropped off two winning tickets at the homes of a couple teachers from the school: one from the Mathematics department, one from the Literature. 
Needless to say both resigned in an instant. Unfortunately this sparked nasty rumors which accounted the two teachers (who really didn't know one another at all) were having an affair. Well, so long as they enjoyed the money. And since neither of their spouse's seemed to believe these rumors, you supposed there was no real harm done. 
Day two consisted of applying for the jobs and actually getting them. The interview process went well. You interviewed with the superintendent who claimed the headmaster was busy. 
'This isn't fair,' Rose said. 'I want to be a teacher.' 
'You'd look so cute as the lady administrator,' you pointed out from the sofa of the Tardis common room. 'You could wear fake specs. Y'know, look over them and give students dirty looks. Type obnoxiously on your clunky laptop. It's such a shame mini iPads weren't invented sooner. I'd look soooo cute carrying mine around.'
Rose groaned theatrically as she collapsed onto the sofa. She rolled on top of your lap, pushing the remote out of your hands so you could pay attention to her. 'Tell your boyfriend to make me a teacher,' Rose indignantly said.  Her nose scrunched as you shifted your thigh to push her off. 
'My hands are full,' The Doctor said through a mouthful of snack food. He tossed a sprinkle of crumbs at Rose, consequently catching some on your lap. You shoved his face with mock disregard. 'You mean your hands are tied,' you corrected.
'Sure,' he said, 'that too.' 
The start of day three. You dressed in a knee length skirt with pointy flats and a smart looking blazer. You decided to forgo a pair of fake specs (though you were known to occasionally need a pair of real lenses ever since a strange trip with your blue-eyed, prominent-nosed Doctor to an interesting laser show which had some nasty effects on your eyes; it was some sort of festival on Mars in the year 3000). As you walked down the hall to your class room the Doctor walked past, heading the opposite way to the Mathematics department. He sent a prolonged look up and down your outfit. 
"Hello, Mr Smith," you said curtly. You had to fight the grin that tussled with your lips. You enjoyed playing your role too, too much.
Mr Smith uncharacteristically fumbled over his feet as he looked over his shoulder to meticulously study the way your bum and hips moved as you went about your merry way. Needless to say this is when he decided to amp up his game. 
The children in your classroom couldn't have been older than fourteen. You didn't expect anything outwardly startling at this point, because you didn't yet realize the secrets this school held. 
You took a look at the lesson plan the students had been going through before their previous teacher took a miracle vacation to Sicily to renew their marriage vows.
Good for them. 
"Who would like to examine the motifs of this scene?" you asked. You were picking through a bit of Macbeth. A beginning scene with the three witches; it should be easy enough. How typcal to have stumbled upon their Shakespeare unit. An obligatory staple of middle school. Or highschool. Whatever grade these kids are in. You tried thinking of it in terms of Harry Potter; are they fifth years? Harry Potter was certainly fifteen during Order of the Phoenix. 
You contemplated this as no one actually tried discussing Macbeth. 
"Would anyone like to mention anything?" Your attempts to get them talking was dismal. Perhaps they missed their old teacher. You felt a little guilty. Even more guilt poured in you when you obnoxiously thought that their old teacher wasn't missing them, not while they were having a second honeymoon in Sicily!
"Anything?" 
You could have heard an eyelash drop in that room. 
"Going on about motif, it's rather interesting that when Macbeth enters, he notes...? What does he say that directly links him to the witches? Oh, goodness, I've lost my place...'So foul and fair a day I have not seen.' Does anyone remember what the three witches say in the opening scene?"
Finally a hand is raised.
You want to thank the kid profusely as you call on her. "What's your name?" 
"Addie Jones," the girl said. 
"Wonderful! Nice to meet you, Miss Addie. Do you remember the line?" 
"'Fair is foul and foul is fair. Hover through the fog and filthy air.'" 
"Excellent," you tell her with a smile. "Not only does this line set the overarching theme for the story, it also is a neat trick Shakespeare put in. Macbeth enters a few scenes later and by repeating their words, he's effectively sealed his own fate. This is a pretty good example of a motif. Does anyone know what a motif is?" You scanned the room, hoping for another arm to pop up, but Addie's hand waved shyly in your sight. You understood, then, why teachers threatened to call on students at random. You'd threaten that yourself if you knew anyone else's name. Besides, Addie seemed eager enough to share her answer. "Addie!" 
"A motif is a series of repeated patterns, often dialogue or imagery, in literature used to further a narrative." 
Whoa. 
"Great answer," you told Addie, a sincere smile capturing your lips. "Given that definition, can anyone find other motifs in the play?"
Addie raised her hand. 
"Does anyone other than Addie have an idea?" you tried. To no avail, you nodded at Addie. You took a seat behind your desk, grabbing a pen to jot down a forethought about Harry Potter. 
Addie took a loud and deep breath. "Another integral motif in the play is sleep. Banquo states, act two scene one, 'And yet I would not sleep. Merciful powers restrain in me cursed thoughts that nature gives way to response.' Act two, scene two, Macbeth by now has killed the king. 'There's one did sleep laugh in's sleep, and one cried Murder!' 14 lines later, same scene, Macbeth then says, 'Methought I heard a voice cry 'sleep no more! Macbeth does murder sleep. The innocent sleep, sleep which knits-,'"
You were extremely puzzled. You tried to gently interupt Addie's train of thought, which seemed to be more than just reading directly from her book than actually answering your question. Taking a stand, your flats smacking the linoleum floor, you strolled back to the front of the classroom, your lesson plan in hand. You caught a glance at Addie's desk. Wherein you'd been expecting to see her fingers eagerly scanning along the pages of her open book, you found that her textbook was rather shut, her hands clasped atop it as she waited for you to say something. 
Blinking in surprise, you looked back at the lesson plan. You skimmed through a couple pages. Just when did they begin studying this play? That thought was muting all of your prior Harry Potter saga theories. Only at the start of the week...and they were only assigned an at home reading for the first four scenes. 
Perhaps Addie liked to read. Perhaps she enjoyed Macbeth so very much that she chose to memorize the entire damn play.
You hadn't seen any notes marking Addie's remarkable abilities in the subject, so you wondered on about how she could have done such a quick study of the play. "He certainly prattles on about sleep, doesn't he?" you asked Addie, who grinned toothily and nervously. "What do you think it means?" you continued as you hugged the lesson plan to your chest. 
That smile faded. "Oh. I'm not sure." Addie, who had memorized all the lines and their scenes regarding 'sleep', was at a loss for words. 
You felt a little bit guilty to find that she seemed incredibly embarrassed to be without an answer. You didn't necessarily care, but you wanted to probe for more answers. "Want to venture a guess? Why do you think sleep is so important here? What might it symbolize?" 
Addie went red in the face. She played with the edges of her textbook. Her nails pulled apart the layers of the hard cover, flaking specks of cardboard across her desk. 
"We could ask ourselves what a literary symbol is," you continued, quickly trying to move on before Addie could explode. "What's a symbol in literature? Maybe someone aside from Addie?" 
You sighed. Defeated again. Tomorrow you'd have to try harder. "Alright, Addie, take it away." 
After taking a breath of relief, Addie prattled away, "A symbol in literature is one of the literary devices that an author might use to convey a hidden message or theme. Symbols often are represented through objects or ideas that serve with a literal purpose but have metaphorical meaning which furthers the narrative, much like a motif." 
Puzzled by her in depth definition all you could really do was nod in response. 'That's correct," you informed her. Though it was far too correct. It didn't sound at all like the answer of a thirteen year old girl. It sounded like a line from a thesis paper or even from some dictionary. Her knowledge us certainly expansive but robotic in nature. She can identify patterns, like motifs and sleep and what not, but she can't analyze their meaning. 
You frowned. More accurately, she couldn't form her own thoughts on the subject matter. 
During lunch break, you searched the cafeteria for the Doctor. You went through the line, declining food after food. You made a scene of asking Rose for an apple, and then  you leaned in close as she handed it to you. "I found something a little bit strange. Sweet girl in my class basically memorized her English textbook. She might as well have memorized mine. Have you seen him?" 
Rose's brow twitched with contempt. "No," she said sharply. "Fuck 'im, really, I'm stuck back here slinging chips at bratty kids and he's off doing who knows w-oh, there he is." She pointed him out in the crowd of students, the man sitting at a table and picking apart a turkey and cheese sandwich layer by layer. "He's bein' weird again," Rose snickered. The Doctor smelled one slice of bread. "Oh, God, go stop him. I can't watch him deface himself like this. Wait, take your apple, now. If I was working on commission then you'd be of no use to me. That's right, take some milk, too. Not the skim, you daft. That's basically water. Take the two percent." 
You tried to juggle the milk and apple that Rose had tossed in your arms as you sped walked towards the Doctor. You dropped the apple on the table as you took a seat in front of him. His nimble fingers dropped the bread in a split second and he eyed you close. "I've got something," you said. 
"Ah, ah," the Doctor said sharply with a wag of his finger. "I don't even know you and you're going to sit down, without even asking, and try and engage in conversation? Tsk. You naughty thing." 
You rolled your eyes. "It's nice to meet you," you told him, playing into his game. "I'm Y/n L/n, yada yada. Anyways. Girl in my class-"
He shook his head. "Nope. You didn't ask my name." 
"I know your name," you mocked his tone. "We met at the staff meeting." 
"How do I know you actually remember it?" the Doctor challenged you. "Go on, just ask my name!" He looked much too amused as you angrily peeled open the cap to your milk. 
"What's your name," you therefore said monotonously, trying to void the words of any inquiring tone. 
"John Smith, physics professor. I'm single, by the way." 
"Anyway! Girl in my class! Basically memorized the entire textbook. She had an answer for most of the questions. However, those answers were all...materialistic. I don't know how to describe it. She didn't know how to input her own thoughts. It was like she just downloaded all the information to her brain. Does that make sense?" 
The Doctor nodded. "I've had a similar experience. Kid in my own class has knowledge way beyond planet earth." He pushed his plate of food forward. "Try some."
"No, thanks," you said politely. "I'm not very hungry. Something about this food weirds me out," you drawled as you poked his lightly tousled food around. He was more sampling everything rather than eating. "I've always hated school food. The chips look...odd. The smell of them is somehow off. Does that make any sense?"
"Come with me," the Doctor responded, not saying anything to your earlier rebuttals regarding the school food. "Toss that, I'm not going to eat it," he added. He took the tray and dumped it. You followed behind him as he slid his tray with the other dirty ones. Rose sent him a glare so foul you were surprised he didn't collapse on the spot. A glare like that could make him regenerate. "Found anything strange?"you ask Rose before she and the Doctor can get into a cat fight, an occurrence which frequents the TARDIS.
Rose gossiped, "Half the kitchen staff got replaced not too long ago. And this lot are weird. Get this! The entire lunch menu has been designed by the headmaster himself. What qualifies him to even do that? Don't you have to study...nutrition?" Rose shook her blonde fringe from her milk chocolate eyes. A flare of mischief came in her eyes. "I bet he didn't."
"Is nutrition a course of study? Actually, it is, isn't it? Oh, Rose you should be a nutritionist!" You said gleefully. 
The Doctor sighed. He furrowed his eyebrows as he tried to keep up with his two companions.
"Oh, shush," Rose chided to you. "The point is we've been at this for three days! We don't even know what's going on. More like you two don't even know what's going on. I've done my part! I reported back to you an' all!" She looked at you both with arms folded across her chest and her eyebrows raised indignantly. She licked her lower lip in a dare for you or the Doctor to argue back, her chocolate-brown eyes strangely malicious. "That's right, isn't it? You've got nothin' to say but-"
"Stop yelling at us!" The Doctor finally dished back. He seemed irritated beyond his senses, which was typical of him. "Your boyfriend is the one who called us."
Rose's mouth quivered at the term. Her lips opened and closed as though she was a fish out of water. "Mickey's not my--hang on a minute, where are you two going?" she finally demanded as the Doctor started to manhandle you. You looked vaguely surprised, staring at him with incredulity. 
"Research!" the Doctor called without looking as he kept his deft fingers tightly wound on your wrist. "We've get a lead!"
You struggled to let her know as he escorted you away. 
The halls were empty as the Doctor pulled you contently down the Mathematics hall. His classroom was certainly empty, all students eating their lunch for the next thirty or so minutes. 
"Show me what you've got," you told him excitedly as he turned the lock on the door. You looked around eagerly for whatever gadget or gizmo he was going to produce. You waited for another moment before you watched with curiosity as the Doctor settled himself easily on the edge of his desk.  "Where is it?" you asked.
"What do you mean?" The Doctor countered, crossing his arms with some semblance of an attitude.  You mimicked the pressing of a sonic screwdriver. "Where's the...gizmo...aren't you going to sonic something?" 
"Oh. No gizmo," the Doctor said. "Not this time. Well, not right now, actually, I'm sure I'll sonic some sort of gizmo sometime soon. No, I actually wanted this time for ourselves. I'm not fond of your attitude, Miss L/n." 
You raised a brow. "My attitude?" 
The Doctor nodded. "Exactly. Your behavior has been nothing short of abysmal. Neglecting me, running about with Rose, and entirely disregarding your duties here. I supplied you with a title of superiority and you have sorely misused it. There's only one word to describe you these past two days." 
For a brief moment your heart stuttered with genuine fear, but then you watched the sparks which flickered in his hazel brown eyes burst into a large flame. 
"Naughty." 
You barked a laugh. You put a hand over your fast beating heart. "That's not funny," you chastised. "I thought you were being serious!"
The Doctor raised an eyebrow. 
No going back now. Not with the rapid pooling of warmth in the bottom of your belly. The Doctor shook his head, tutting his tongue as he folded his arms. 
He was a a lithe figure of all rhyme and very little reason; especially he gestured for you to come closer. Tousled tufts of soft, brown hair flopped over his forehead, not so strictly gelled back today. His hair was ultimately the first thing that warmed you up to him. 
His previous face was undoubtedly your first, true love--all blue eyes and ears, knit sweaters under leather jackets, and a secret soft side with a not so quiet splash of kinky foreplay. There were zero hints of that face in this one, and the first time you saw it you didn't know what quite to think. 
The Doctor had burst into a bright, ball of golden light. Spheres, marble sized, of such light fizzled around him, orbiting his figure while Rose gripped your hand. Her fingers slipped on the fresh blood, making you wince as she slid over the fresh slice.  The fight against the Daleks had been the most important matter in all the world just moments ago. And now you felt as though...you were about to lose everything. 
Your mouth burned with the hard kiss the Doctor had given you. His tongue had meddled against yours, sweeping the roof of your mouth the way he knew you liked. His thumbs swiped away the tears that dotted the corners of your eyes, and just like that, he was saying goodbye. And then this. 
Dizzying rushes of blinking in and out of reality coursed through you. This almost felt like a dream. The image charading in front of you didn't seem right. This wasn't how it was supposed to go, afterall. You three were supposed to find Jack and go home, wherever 'home' was. No matter where home was, the day would always end with you laying on the Doctor's chest, ear to dual hearts while he played with your hair. 
And yet that wasn't how this was going to end. 
Rose gripped your hand tight. Your vision flickered with stars as her fingers slipped into the gash on your hand. Nausea punched you in the gut as the light grew brighter and brighter. Stop, you wanted to tell him. It's not funny. 
It wasn't funny at all. 
The energy surged, so loud you could almost hear it, you could practically feel it sizzling inside of you. Energy sang inside the TARDIS: the chime high and loud, the pitch far beyond any regular frequency. And God, it hurt. 
The ringing ascended frequency and finally it shut off as the Doctor cried out just a bit. 
The light disappeared. 
And so had your Doctor. 
You crept closer. 
He pushed his leg out, patting the top of his thigh. "Take a seat, Miss L/n," he sighed, making a point to sound disappointed. He would really be if you didn't play along! So you hopped up to take a seat, holding onto the back of his neck for leverage as you made yourself comfortable. 
It wasn't unusual for him to become unexpectedly horny, especially in the midst of a mission such as this. He was one for taking fortified risks. 
"What do you have to say for yourself?" he asked. 
"Just that I've been a very bad girl," you informed him with an exaggerated pout. You puckered your lower lip. "I just wanted your attention, Mr. Smith." 
"Consider it done. You've certainly caught my attention with this little garb," the Doctor said as he pushed a hand up your skirt. His lean fingers squeezed the inside of your thigh, making you squirm. The flash of quick pain on the easily bruised skin made your heart rush. Looking up at him, it was easy to spot the remnants of the other Doctor. Your first Doctor. 
Though his face has changed, and you love him all the same-if not more-he'll always have that face. 
"Professor Smith," you said as you batted your eyelashes. The size difference between you two was enough to make you squirm, stomach clenched with eager anticipation.
"Poor thing," 'Mr Smith' said. His hand kneaded the jiggling flesh of your leg, pinching it and grinning at the way you wiggled in his grip. "You're so needy for attention," he cooed. "You'd take any bit of attention from even the science teacher." 
His mouth pressed against yours. Lips against lips, both soft as the petals of a flower, but clashing hard, as if you two had never kissed before! But kisses are less than few-and-far; they're frequent. They're the Doctor's favorite past time.
Even with this face you two spend nights in his study, laying in the chaise lounge, your ear against his chest and listening to his dual hearts. Even with this face do you two kiss passionately into the hours of the ambient night lights that the TARDIS has set for you. Your hands plucked at the buttons of his shirt.  His build was entirely different from the previous one he bore. Where then he'd been slightly bulkier with more muscle and mass, he was now slender, lithe, and graceful. He walked like a cat with cunning mischief on his mind. His deft fingers were slipping up your skirt, hooking across the band of your underwear and cheekily tugging them down as he pushed his thumbs into your hips.
He loved, loved, the curves of your body (he always had. It wasn't something that would ever change). He liked to grip the fleshy parts of you tight, squeeze and fondle any parts of you he could get his hands on.  You splayed your fingers out like a starfish, pushing your hand on his sternum just between both hearts. You could feel them both beating fast as his shirt drifted open,  framing his clavicle and abdomen like a picture. He couldn't be more gorgeous than this; freckles constellated his pale skin. The shades that stood out on his skin compared  to yours made your lips curl. The colors were like blots of paint on a pallet in the hands of an artist. 
Confidently, you believed that a painting with every shade your two bodies had to offer would outshine the Mona Lisa or Starry Night. 
The Doctor's hand crept below the threshold of your underwear. His thumb padded through the plush lips of your pussy, nudging at your pearled clit. "Not nearly as wet as I'd prefer," the Doctor chastised as he flexed his thumb in a circle on your clit, not bothering to start at a slow pace. The quick lashings of a hurried pleasure made your body tremble. Like a startled newborn you spasmed in his hold, nearly collapsing backwards. If he hadn't had an arm around your waist you would have made a fool of yourself. 
"Can't stay still?" The Doctor cooed. "The more I rub this little clit, the more wet that oozes out of you. That makes it so easy for me to simply..."
Your voice strained as the Doctor slowly pushed his middle finger inside of you. He moved slowly so that you could feel every bit of your cunt that he stretched out. For all the times you'd ever attempted to stick something inside of yourself, this really took the cake.
Every time you tried it just felt...like you were sticking something inside of yourself. Like there was just something inside a vaginal cavity; Just something inside that was vibrating.
Not sexy, nor pleasurable.
The amount of times you'd attempted to do gymnastics around your bedroom in your home time, stretching your legs or doing back bends, all to find the magical spot that the internet claimed existed. These exploits were all for naught.
Imagine how strange a feeling it was for you to be proven wrong by the Doctor. You swore up and down there was something wrong, something maybe even broken, but no matter what, you just didn't have what other women suspiciously claimed to have. Well, the Doctor loves to prove others wrong. You can imagine how that first night went, with him grinning down at you and touching both the inside and outside of you at once to bring about a genre of pleasure you hadn't realized existed. 
You gnawed on your lip as the Doctor slowly pushed a second digit inside, still tending to your clit to keep the feeling from being too uncomfortable. "It's alright," the Doctor said softly. He shifted his body, making a swift stand as he set you on the desk and settled between your legs, without removing his hand from you at all.  He widened the gap between your legs so your knees laid hip length apart. His tall figure stood straight as he looked down at your cunt which dropped over his hand. 
"And there it is," he sighed. "You're taking it like a good girl, aren't you? Even though we're in a school. A learning facility. Have you no shame?" 
Whether or not he wanted an answer, you couldn't say. Your vision was blurry as he pumped up into a secret place inside of you while also stimulating your clit. The small bundle of nerves was pulsating, having become a bulbous bud of despair and anxiety. It tensed and twitched under every touch but ultimately it yearned for more. You kept tensing around his fingers, holding onto the lapels of his jacket tight. 
The Doctor looked down at you. He smirked. 
"You're holding onto me with quite a strong grip. Afraid I'll pull away? Afraid I'll stop? Your cunt just keeps squeezing onto me. So hot and wet. So comforting. Don't you wish it was my cock?"
You panted out a reply, not bothering to sound witty or naughty. Not the time. "Yes."
A laugh. A genuine sound. The musical chime of it faded before the Doctor replied, "I do, too. But first I'll watch you cum on my fingers. It's alright. Door's all locked. My attention is entirely on you. You've been working so hard, so eager to please Mr Smith. Now you ought to let Mr Smith please you. Although...I should be punishing you. Shouldn't I? I'm sure it wouldn't be much of a real punishment, though. After all, you tend to enjoy it when  I spank your sweet ass."
The mere words sent the images into your brain. The thought of it made your pussy flinch, and the Doctor laughed again though this time round it was a touch harsh sounding. "I knew you enjoyed it," he said quietly. He kissed your forehead, his lips curled into a smile as he did so. "It's alright, dear, it's only me. You can be honest. I quite like it. Oh, my, you're dripping all the way onto my wrist!" 
He feigned annoyance. "Just look...look at this mess you're making."
You dared to take a look. 
A small gasp choked in your throat, the sound making the Doctor chuckle. The muscles of your thighs twitched. The knee length skirt was thrown back so you were sitting bare assed on the cool desk, the skirt gathered around your hips. Your panties were stuffed in the Doctor's trouser pockets: you could see them sticking out. When had he done that?
The tendons in his wrist were flexing as he thrust his two fingers up and in, while his thumb angled upwards to continue the steady pace on your clit. The lazy rhythm which he had set was making you sweat. He didn't seem terribly bothered by the writhing around you were doing.
"Don't you like the sight of it?" The Doctor's content was evident in the way he spoke, looking at the mess with a dreamy sparkle in his eye. 
He appeared visibly intoxicated as a long and loud 'mmm' escaped you. You had a difficult time remembering that the sounds were your own; you didn't always feel physically mounted in your body during your horny escapades. Sometimes the thrall of an orgasm separated your physical self from your metaphysical self like the whites and yolk of an egg. You were being gradually poured apart with every furthering motion the Doctor made. Joules of an intense pleasure rumbled inside of you. Your stomach had a slippery feeling, like a pad of hot butter on a skillet, fuzzy and warm and enticing. 
Your legs jerked around, ankles flanking into the back of his thighs and effectively pulling him closer. He was trapped between your legs-just the way he liked. 
Tension unfurled in your shoulders, slipping away like drops of rain on a window pain. It tingled down your back and you tilted away, Your chin raising towards the ceiling as one of your hands roughly gripped the edge of Mr Smith's desk. Anchored to the British classroom of 2005, you started to feel the edges of a smooth and velvety orgasm close in on you. It was a feeling that couldn't be physically embodied by much else than a velvet ribbon, or a warm vanilla latte, or-
"Fuck!" You whined. "It's-"
The Doctor pushed the familiar feeling forward. It was an intensity that you could only ever feel with the Doctor, with his hand or his cock or his anything. It no longer mattered that the year was 2005; the pressure on your clit felt nothing short of a pulsing burst of energy and fire. Gold fizzled in your vision. Your cunt felt heavy. Something tickled behind your bladder, the feeling making you beg. "Doctor, wait!" You urged him as you pawed at his torso. "I think I'll-"
"That's what I want," the Doctor muttered. "Don't worry, darling, I'll take good care of you. It's alright. Just keep squirming like that and let me rub your pussy to completion. Don't tire yourself-I want to feel you with my cock, too, so just relax and enjoy it. Can't you try?"
The urge to clench your walls and even the muscles around your clit was hard to fight. But when you did, it allowed an enormous wave of pleasure to drown you. You tremored and babbled a string of incoherent words. Some kind of begging, you think, or perhaps declarations of love, hatred, or anything in between. Passions had built up inside you and now  they're spilling out like the waters from a broken dam. Judging by the bleary grins of content through your teary eyes, you were praising him to high ends. Likely spilling out your love for him and his hands. 
Pressure started to release as the gradual high came about. It wasn't an overt transition from pleasure to climax; it was never black and white, it was a grey scale that slowly blossomed to a bright gold and silver.  Weight transpired from the top of your head to your torso and then to your belly. It sank low, behind your ovaries. A heavy, swollen sensation was hanging right over you, taunting the burst of energy that would soon make a mess over the Doctor's hand and shirt. You feared the worst as you pathetically tried to wiggle your hips around. You were so close to that feeling. If you just pushed yourself a little bit more than you could reach it. 
"If I didn't know better, I'd say you're about to cum all over me," the Doctor murmured in a harsh tone. "That's repulsive. That's so human of you. It's disgustingly easy to make you leak with just a hand."
You buried your face into the chest of the Doctor, trying not to be too loud with the whimpers and shallow breaths you were releasing as though you were a television woman in labor. 
Babbling out vowels, your entire body released a burst of warmth; like pink ribbons and fresh croissants and the tops of your thighs after you sat by a bonfire. The convulsed through you as that swollen feeling finally burst, indeed making a mess on the Doctor as you feared. 
You looked down at yourself in shock. A grim sense of shame started to take over the pink-flakey-croissant-bonfires-with-Rose feeling. "I'm so sorry," you whispered, your voice a cracking piece of foil as the Doctor licked the corner of his mouth. He quickly licked his fingers clean before shaking his head. "No, no, don't apologize," he said as he quickly moved his fingers to the button of his pants. "It was quite a learning experience, I should say. I learned that you are a very cute, young, little cunt in desperate need of an older, wiser cock. I'm just going to give you what you want. You don't have anything otherwise to say. I know you don't."
You shook your head as you watched the Doctor palm himself. His bulge was prominent and you had to restrain a whimper as he pulled back the boxer briefs he wore, which you insisted on because he wanted to wear boxers, but you found boxer briefs undeniably sexy, and so he wore them; he couldn't exactly do otherwise when the Tardis was replacing his go to wardrobe with other garments--it was totally accidental the way the Tardis now listened to your opinion before his. But he couldn't deny: blood runs thicker than water. And your blood had sizzled on the heart of the beloved Tards. So yeah, sometimes the Tardis chose to play Christmas music when it was only November (according to the earth-calendar programmed into the mainframe, but that was also another story). 
You pulled him down by the scruff of his neck, forcing him to kiss you as he played with himself. Your sloppy kiss was all tongue against tongue, open mouthed groans into one another as you guided his hand up and down on himself. 
Now leaking precum, he smothered himself   In the lubricant and thumbed the slit of his cock, a clenched-teeth hiss escaping himself as you urged him to prepare. But the Doctor likes to edge himself; he likes the discomfort of wanting to chase an orgasm, the self control it required to ignore the body's instinct. 
"Come closer," he groaned against you. His forehead rested on yours. You both watched him pump his cock a few more times; your chest was rising and falling as hard as his. 
He guided himself inside you, kissing your forehead as he slowly inched forward. The brief discomfort as he pushed past the curve of your walls was strictly rewritten into a song of bliss. Mint green paint, fresh croissants with oozing chocolate, an open campsite by the sizzling fire. 
He hunched over your little figure; he was completely towering atop you, the size of a dire wolf pinning a rabbit against his own torso. He grunted as he pulled himself out only to slam his way back in, the motion making you feel full and heavy. 
He worked his hips to thrust in and out of you, pulling himself practically to the tip each time. His hand was tending to your clit as he moved. Each touch on your clit felt like torture, in the best sense. You already felt swollen and every touch was amplified. The starts of a new orgasm made you tired and shudder, your mouth desperate for water as it worked its way through your body. 
"You're so small," the Doctor huffed through a laugh as your figure jerked with each thrust. You were trapped against his torso, feeling the doubly beat of his hearts pounding as he plowed in and out of you. "So pliable," he added as he groped the side of your thigh exposed by the wrinkled fabric of your skirt. "So hot and tight while I have my way with you. You couldn't help yourself. You just had to be fucked right now, just like this. Always needing my attention, always, always. I never thought you'd be so bratty in public! I like it."
"Stop talking," you groaned. "That's all you ever do. Talk, talk, talk. I think you like that, more." 
The Doctor gripped your chin, slowing his movements down. His hand skittered away from your clit but you were quick to pin it in place. You pushed one of your fingers inside of his mouth, watching him pucker his lips around the digit and sucking. His thick eyelashes fluttered before he jerked his head back. "Not your turn, princess," he sneered. "I'm in charge right now." 
"You like when I'm in charge, too," you retorted. "You could just give up, you know." 
The Doctor once again groped at you, squeezing hard on your pebbled nipples with a growl of warning. "Not the time," he told you with a rough thrust up. It made you gasp and heel over as the spotlight of sudden pleasure shone over you; the Doctor smirked as he carefully weened his way back into a quicker pace than he had been previously going at. "Don't you dare stop," you pleaded as you gripped him by the collar of his button down. "Or you're in for a load of trouble when we get home." The Doctor's brown eyes twinkled at the idea: home on the Tardis, being straddled and used by you, it sounded like a marvelous plan. 
"I'm not the one who's about to get a load," the Doctor said, grinning at the gross slang, but he was unable to really care because your cheeks had tears dripping down them. "Can't wait to see how full you become. I'll be dripping down your legs the rest of the day." 
"Shut up," you whimpered as you tilted your head back. 
Honestly speaking you quite enjoyed his babbling chit chat. He really did like to hear himself talk. You liked it as well. 
"Make me." 
You two pressed your mouths into a rough mold, your tongues slithering over tips and teeth. Your arms wrapped over the back of his neck, locking him in place. His chuckles dripped down your throat as he vocalized his own pleasure. Your breathing hastened. Panting like a dog in the summer heat, you were kissing him back as if it were a fight for your life. You clenched all your body into a rigid stake as the peak of the orgasm finally prodded into your cunt. The Doctor's hands pressed into your hips and legs, his thumbs rubbing calming circles into you as he moaned. He was much more accepting of the pleasure wave as it rode through him. 
Hiccuping whimpers fluttered into the Doctor's mouth as your slick, wet released. The feeling made the Doctor groan, loud and strong as he finally released the gates of his own seed. He grunted as he made sloppy thrusts; cum mixed and squeezed out of you like the lemon custard in a powdered donut, a rare, sweet, tart taste that made your eyes water. 
Your mouths pulled apart with a loud smack. You both looked down at the mess. He pumped in and out a few times, hissing as you suckled a bite on the underside of his jaw. You cried out a curse as he swiftly pulled out and gripped his cock, the limb still half hard. He pushed the tip of himself against your clit, making a harsh circle so your bodies both shuddered. "Too much," he said between clenched teeth. He released a breath as final spurts of his seed painted on the lips of your pussy. 
The strain on his chest eased. 
The Doctor swayed forward. His face lulled into a lazy grin, tucking itself within the crook of your neck. Carefully exhaling your last deep breath, you slid back so you were laying face up, looking at the ceiling as the Doctor remained curled atop you. He hummed with content, rubbing his hand over the soft skin of your pelvis. Your skirt was still flipped up; his pants were unbuttoned. 
Panting. The fluorescent lights seemed so homely in the aftershocks of this feeling. Left over in your core was the tingling of the orgasmic pain on your clit, now soft and bruised, but for good reason. 
"I really think there's something strange going on," you mentioned after a few minutes of calm silence. You softly scratched his scalp, combing through his soft hair while he purred at the feeling, reminding you of a cat. "This school seems off." 
"I'm tired," the Doctor said. "Work seems boring, now." 
"It's life or death," you pointed out. 
"Is it?"
"You're just fucked out, aren't you?" you pointed out again but with a laugh this time. 
"Yeah, you're probably right...probably." 
"I'm always right," you informed him. "The sooner you realize that, the easier your life will be." 
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heartshapedmisery · 10 days
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CHILDISH BEHAVIORS
The last practice and argument that led to your final day with the Ferguson International Tennis Academy.
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warnings ― .゚‪‪ ˖ language, heavy arguing, nothing else really idk this is kinda just background stuff lol
taglist ― .゚‪‪ ˖ @elaci @depressedgothgrl
author's note ― .゚‪‪ ˖ hope you guys enjoy! I promise the reader isn't an asshole she just has a very fiery personality lol. also i don't know if made this clear or not, but this series takes place after the events of challengers and art and tashi are divorced! (i love my girl but it just wouldn't make sense for this for them to still be married.) lmk what you guys think! :)
PROLOGUE, LUCK OF CHAMPIONS | Art Donaldson x fem!reader, Challengers (2024)
New Rochelle, New York. 2019.
When it came to your life outside of tennis (which truly held very little validity in your mind), you never considered yourself to be an aggressive person. And you would attest that others would agree, and they would, but the second you got a racket in your hand and you stepped out into that box, it was almost as if you were a completely different person.
You don't intend to be hard-putting, but you simply have always been that way. Tennis dominated your entire life; ever since you were a kid, you had no desire to pursue anything that didn't involve hitting a ball with a racket. Somehow, this fueled your need to be competitive. To win every game, because in your mind, if you didn't, it held no value.
Though it was a toxic way of thinking, it kept you on your toes. It pushed you even harder to become the best, and eventually after strenuous time and effort, you did.
But your desire to be superior seemed to overtake your love for the game, which alarmed your peers and coaches. It was unhealthy.
"No one can devote their entire being to this sport and still remain human," you had been told, but it all seemed circumstantial. You wanted to be great, and you knew you could be great. But how could you get that without pure dedication to your craft?
You can't.
"Slam that damn racket again and you're out of here!"
You could feel the blood pumping through your ears as your heart felt like it was going to beat out of your chest, your fingers white-knuckling your racket.
Coach Ferguson, the man you had trained with for the past year, stood irritated with his arms crossed over his chest, shaking his head at you. Even through the darkness of his Ray Bans, you could see the piercing, disappointed look you had become all too familiar with.
"Would you rather me chuck it at him?" you pointed it in the direction of the trainee you had been practicing with. "Because that's what he deserves for the way he keeps serving me a weak ball. I keep having to scramble for the damned thing."
The young trainee stood sheepishly, taking the ridicule from you without a word. You practically spit the words at him, heat rising in your chest just as the reminiscence of it.
"Watch your tone when you're talking to me," Ferguson barked and pointed a taunting finger at you. "You're here because of your talent, not because I enjoy the pleasure of your company. You would've been gone a long time ago if you were."
You hated to sound egotistical, but you were by far his best player. His words didn't scare you. At least, they didn't yet.
"Oh, boo hoo, like that's going to hurt my feelings," your tone was laced with sarcasm. "Just let me get back to this, will you? I promise all of your precious rackets will be safe."
You dismissed him as if he wasn't the one who wrote your checks every month. It almost made him laugh.
"My office. Now." he told you sharply before turning on his heel and leaving, waving off the trainee to go collect the tennis balls you had been hitting and taking them back to the locker rooms.
You contemplated if you wanted to ignore him or obey his orders, before doing the latter and following him down the path to the main building.
The cool AC hit your face refreshingly as you walked through the lobby, your eyes leisurely watching the TV that was playing old rerun matches behind the front desk.
Donaldson v. Richards. 2012.
The match undoubtedly intrigued you; your appeal was centered toward Donaldson, mesmerized by his powerful backhand and effective open stance. He glided across the court with ease, scoring points left and right with a demeanor that almost came off as bored.
You only allowed the game to hold your attention for a moment before you followed Ferguson into his office like a troubled delinquent making your way into the principal's office. In a sense, the situations weren't all that different. You still slumped down in the chair across from his desk with a sour look on your mouth while he gave you a disapproving look.
"(L/N), I hate to do this to you, but this," he gestured to your uninterested and bitter attitude, "Isn't working anymore."
You weren't sure what to say. You had expected him to rip you a new one, not talk to you as if he were about to kick you to the curb. Was that what he was doing?
"i don't understand," you said simply, an uneasy feeling stirring in your chest.
"You haven't won a match in over a month, your temper is out of control, and you're ripping people's heads off left and right. It's not healthy and I don't think this is the right place for you right now."
The words flowed from his mouth so easily, almost as if he had been itching to say it to you for a while now. It was what you needed to hear, but you just didn't want to listen.
"What? You're seriously not kicking you out, are you?" you snapped, standing from your chair.
"I'm not kicking you out. I'm asking you to take a break. This isn't goodbye forever, just for a little bit. Take a year off, get yourself back in order, and then we can renegotiate a new contract for you."
Your stomach dropped farther the more he spoke, an overwhelming feeling of embarrassment washing over your senses. Yeah, you could be a little over the top sometimes, but you never thought you would be asked to leave.
"You can't do this," you tried, but Coach Ferguson simply shook his head.
"Remind me, who's name is on the sign out front?" he asked rhetorically. "I can, and I will. This is what's best for you right now, even if you don't agree with me."
Tears threatened to fall from your eyes, but you didn't let them. The last thing you needed was to be crying like a baby and look even more unstable than he already thought you were.
"The US Open is right around the corner, if I stop training now I won't be able to qualify in August."
He gave you a helpless shrug. "You should've thought about that before you started losing all these matches. As of right now, you're right at the cutoff for qualifying. If you were to try for it now, you'd have to work twice as hard to earn your spot―which I don't think you're capable of doing."
His words felt like a knife to the heart. He used to tell you he would always believe in you, that he'd always be there for you when you needed him.
So much for keeping his word.
"That's bullshit and you know it," you snapped.
"You're not making this very easy for me."
"Good, because you shouldn't even be doing it in the first place!"
He simply shook his head, resisting the urge to bark back a snide response. "Get out. Right now. You're being childish. I'm not going to sit here and argue with you."
He pointed to the door, unable to meet your eye as you scoffed in his face. You couldn't believe him.
"This is all I can do for you right now. Either take my offer or leave."
You didn't want to give in to him. You didn't want to give him that satisfaction after he had made you look like a complete fool.
"Fuck this." was all you could muster up, tightening your fist relentlessly as you stormed out of his office and down the hall, not sure where you were headed but you knew it would be far away from here. You felt like a child throwing a tantrum and you hated it because you knew he was right.
You were quick and silent as you cleaned out your locker since it was the only way you could keep yourself from bursting into tears. You felt ashamed; after all of your hard work and dedication to this academy, this was what you got in return. It felt like a kick in the gut, but it was what you needed in order to realize that you were better than all of this.
Deep down, you knew you were capable of making it to the US Open. You were going to prove it. How? You weren't completely sure. You were without a coach and you were all alone, which was something you never thought you would have to admit to yourself.
You needed a plan; Something to tie together the loose ends that had unraveled within the past hour. So, the second you got home to your apartment two blocks from the academy, you scoured the internet for a saving grace.
Phil's Tire Town Wildcard. New Rochelle, New York.
March 17th, 2019.
APPLY NOW!
Bingo.
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melancholy-of-nadia · 6 months
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love u lately (m) #5 | myg/knj/pjm
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title: love u lately​ chapter title: #5 - home girl​ pairing: yoongi x f. reader, namjoon x f. reader, jimin x f. reader (yoonminjoon x f. reader) rating/genre: m (18+) ; smut ; college/university au , pseudo frat! bts; best friends! yoonminjoon friends to lovers; summary: after getting entangled with jimin and him revealing that he knows your secret at the halloween party, you decide coming clean to yoongi about what happened would be the best choice. however, this doesn't come without consequences, as it creates a distance between you two. when jimin comes to remedy this with a wild idea, what would happen is something you'd never expect. warnings:  halloween party ending bits, smut, cunninglingus, blowjob, alcohol/recreational drug mentions, swearing, kissing, A LOT, fingering, CONSENSUAL and PROTECTED sex, penetration, HEAVYYYYYY on the ANGST, does this count as cheating if they're not together, confessions???, good end of the chapter!, jimin being a wild card note: as always thank you to @daegudrama for editing this chapter and writing the smut as I struggled with life last month. truly appreciate all the hard work and support you give me to write this fic total word count: 10.5k drop date: December 13th, 2023, 4:00PM PST cross posted on AO3 here ← #4 | Series Masterlist | #6 →
“I knew it.”
Huh? What does he mean he ‘knew it?’ Knew what? Jimin’s response sounds coy, which is definitely not what you were expecting. A brief moment of silence and confusion passes by before you verbally react.
“Wait what?”
The ringing coming from your phone comes to an end. You guess Yoongi reached your voicemail and just hung up. You’re a little relieved, but that’s not the point. Forget the call! Forget the orgasm! What is Jimin talking about?
Jimin starts giggling, “Jungkook spilled the beans to me, actually.”
Jungkook? What? How does he know? You feel that you’re missing a big piece of information that Jimin is withholding from you and even Yoongi.
You grab Jimin’s arms, flipping him onto his back until you’re on top of him and straddling his thighs. Jimin’s eyes are agape confused by your sudden quick movements. You've always managed to over power him with your strength, which he has always admired. In a different scenario similar to that of an erotica novel, this would lead to steamy sex, however now you’re trying to get him to spill whatever he knows.
“Now tell me everything you know, Park!”
—————————————
October 13th [Sunday] — past —
 "Are you good, Jimin?"
Jimin, caught off guard while deleting pictures and Irene's contact from his phone, replied, "I'm fine. It was long overdue anyway." 
The purple lighting added an mystic ambiance to the conversation.
After Jimin broke up with Irene and she decided to leave the party, Jungkook entered the hallway where Irene had just left Jimin standing, eyes wide from witnessing their breakup. Jungkook, clearly a bit more talkative than usual due to the alcohol, casually put his arm around Jimin, concern etched in his features.
Clearly intoxicated, Jungkook's chattiness took a turn towards your direction. "So what finally got you to do it? Was it her?" He gestured towards you across the room, engaging in a lively conversation with Namjoon and Yoongi. Jimin’s gaze fixed on you in an endeared way, admiring the way you glowed and laughed while conversing with the two men. He admitted, "Maybe." Interrupting abruptly, Jungkook said, "Well, you better start making moves before it's too late, Jiminie, because—" He immediately covered his mouth, realizing he was about to spill something he shouldn't. "Because what? What are you talking about?" Jimin questioned, feeling a sudden pang of anxiety. Was there someone else already pursuing you? His mind raced, wondering if it was JB or someone else. He wouldn't let Jungkook leave without answers. The younger boy was suddenly sweating, eyes looking around for an escape to exit the scene he unintentionally created. "You better fucking spill, Jeon! I'm not letting you leave until you tell me." Jimin threatened, his voice a mix of sweetness and poison. Jimin is one of the scarier members in the house, so frankly, Jungkook was fucked if he stayed silent. The younger boy sighed, finally relenting, “Okay, fine. But will you please, please, PLEASE promise me you won’t get mad with what I’m about to tell you.” Rolling his eyes, Jimin held his pinky up, "Yes, I promise." 
Sealing the promise with a pinky swear. Of course he won’t be mad, he thinks. How bad could it even be? "Okay, well, uh, do you remember last Friday when we couldn't have game night because the majority of us had plans except for honey and Yoongi hyung?" Jimin nodded, prompting Jungkook to continue. "So, um, they went to the Gamma party." Jimin eyed him curiously. "A party? So they lied about having a game night somewhere else. Interesting, keep going."
"Okay thought the only reason I know that is because my friend Yugyeom told me! I didn't know they went together. But when I came home earlier that Friday night since I wasn't feeling well…I...uh...I heard sounds."
"Sounds? What sounds—" It took Jimin a full minute to catch on to what Jungkook was hinting at, the realization dawning on him with a mixture of shock and disbelief. Fucking. They were fucking? No way. Yoongi was the one least likely out of the three of them to ever make moves on you first. Jimin had always assumed that even someone like Jungkook would've made the first move, especially since he had a minor crush on you last year. Not in a million years would he had thought Yoongi would do it.
"Are you being serious with me right now?" Jimin leaned into Jungkook, his eyes searching for any signs of deceit.
"Yes, the fuck? Do you think I would be lying to you?!" Jungkook defended himself, his tone firm and resolute. "No, this is just so insane. But wait, are they dating or something?" Jimin cut to the chase, seeking clarification.
Jungkook sighed, "I don't think so. I think they're still friends, but I haven't heard them do it since that time. So I don't know if it's anything more serious or just a one-night thing."
"Interesting."
"So you're not mad?"
"Nope. If they're still friends and maybe doing that on the side, I still have a chance."
"Jimin." Jungkook looked at his close friend, appalled that he would even say that.
Jimin continued to blabber out his thoughts, "I wouldn’t even mind if we’re both taking turns fucking her if he was done. Hell, maybe get Namjoon in on this too if he wants."
"JIMIN."
"Oh, sorry." Jimin paused as Jungkook cut him off, a faint blush coloring his cheeks. The alcohol had also exposed his inner desires, which wasn't entirely surprising. The house knew Jimin was adventurous in the sheets, but Jungkook hearing and know all these details made him rethink the life decisions that had led him to this peculiar group of people.
 "But it seems they're being lowkey about it, so please," Jungkook implored, grabbing Jimin's shoulders and towering over him. "For the love of God, don't tell anyone you know what I just told you."
"I won't! Lips are sealed!" Jimin grinned, miming the action of zipping his lips and locking them with an invisible key.
 Jungkook sighed, looking down at the older boy. He knew Jimin was a wild card, and the revelation of your situation with Yoongi could indeed flip the whole house upside down. He hoped Jimin would exercise discretion and make wise decisions with the new info he had been given, in a rather seductive manner, threatened to spill.
———————————
"Holy fuck..." you mumble curses under your breath as Jimin explains his story from weeks prior.
 He ends it by explaining his decision to find you soon after to start planting ideas in your head, like that birthday kiss wish. He admits to acting like nothing happened afterward, just to see you stressed out, fully aware of how well he knew you.
You couldn't help but berate yourself for not checking everyone's location the night you got home from the party and fucked Yoongi. While you weren't exactly in you right mind, you were still rational enough to want what you did with him. Yet, you seemed to have missed the fact that Jungkook had entered the house while the deed was taking place. Maybe you’ll need to treat him to some bubble tea as an apology.
"I have a lot of questions to ask you, but one I should ask right now is, are you two dating?" He inquires, a mix of concern and curiosity in his voice.
You know the answer to this question is an obvious ‘no’, yet for some reason, a part of you wishes it wasn't. Before you can overthink it, you answer, "Nope. We're just...you could say, best friends with benefits?"
"And it's nothing serious?" Jimin inquires further.
"Well…no. We’re just…fucking each other?" Jimin looks at you waiting for you to continue with the new info drop you’re giving him. “It’s a long story…” 
You really don’t want to get into the nitty gritty details about this right now. It would take all night and you know Jimin would jokingly call you an idiot for crafting up such an interesting friends-with-benefits deal with Yoongi just because you didn’t like that he and Namjoon were distancing themselves due to their relationships. Even thinking about that now, you’re not sure why you were so incredibly eager to do that.
"Good,” He answers right away, catching you off guard. “So I don't have to feel bad for doing this to hyung." He says with a mischievous glint in his eyes. Confused, you look at Jimin until he playfully flips you back onto the bed, kissing up your neck. This back-and-forth banter reminds you of the playful wrestling you two engaged in as middle schoolers, only now the context is entirely different.
With gentle but firm hands, he takes hold of each of your wrists and presses them against your sides, keeping you in place. Before you can fully understand what’s going on, Jimin leans down and ducks his head under your skirt. His warm breath sends shivers down your spine as he wastes no time in flicking his skilled tongue against your already sensitive clit. You squirm against his grip on your wrists, desperately wanting to move your dress up to get a better view of him pleasuring you. The anticipation and desire building inside you is almost unbearable as he continues to expertly bring you closer to ecstasy with every flick of his tongue.
“Do you want me to stop?” He breathes out sending another shiver of pleasure up your spine. 
“Don’t you dare, Park!” You reply in a haste, breaking your wrists free of his grasp.
With a light force, you push his head down, feeling giddiness within you as he eagerly obliges, his tongue zigzagging through your slick folds. His hands run up and down your thighs adding to the array of sensations coursing through your body. Your head falls back while your back arches in response to the one finger he uses to circle your entrance. 
But as Jimin continues to suck, lick, and kiss your wet pussy with expert precision, you suddenly become aware of how uncomfortable your once cute angel wings are in this situation. Frustrated by their presence, you sit up just enough to rid yourself of the accessory, determined to fully enjoy the pleasure that Jimin is bringing you. His tongue works wonders on your sensitive skin, earning breathy moans from your lips. It's almost as if you can feel him smirking against you, his teasing movements only adding to the intense sensations enchanting you.
Jimin's hand slides under your ass, gripping and squeezing before he emerges from under your skirt. He wipes his mouth on the back of his hand with a sly grin, your own heart fluttering in response. As he sits back on his feet, you reach for the button on his pants, eager to feel him against you. Your breath hitches as you trace the outline of his cock through his pants, drool pooling in your mouth at the thought of tasting him. In your drunken state, it takes you longer than usual to unbutton his pants and push down his boxers.
Finally free, Jimin's cock springs up, throbbing and ready for you to please him. You wrap your fingers around him, stroking lightly as you watch his reaction. His lips part as he sucks in a sharp breath of air, his eyes never leaving your face. Without hesitation, you dip your head and take his tip into your mouth.
“Are you sure you want to—” Jimin begins cutting himself off when your tongue begins swirling around his tip before sinking further, taking more of his length into your mouth. You’re definitely more than sure, you think.
With cheeks caving in and a steady rhythm, you expertly slide his dick in and out of your mouth, eliciting a song of pleasure from Jimin's pretty lips. Just when he's getting close to the edge, you pop your mouth off with a teasing grin, drawing a desperate whine from Jimin's mouth.
As much of a tease as he is, you would think he could handle some himself. With a devilish smirk, he guides you onto your back again before standing to remove his pants. As he grinds his naked cock against your slick folds, every cell in your body screams for him to just fuck into you already. 
“Jimin, please!” You whimper, taking his cock in your hand and stroking.
“What do you want, Y/N?” He asks smirking like he knows you might be hesitant to ask for what you want. 
“You.” 
With that he stands searching for a condom in his pants before muttering curses. Jimin turns to Matthew’s bedside table, opening the top drawer first and finding what he was looking for. Also some things he wasn’t looking for. He holds up a whip thinking he is learning so much about his friend that he doesn’t want to know.
“Next time.” Jimin says with a wink and you can feel your face flushing despite the situation. This is definitely a premonition for something to come and you don’t know whether to be excited or scared.
With a swift motion, Jimin tears open the condom packaging using his teeth and expertly rolls it onto himself. He positions himself between your legs and lines up with your entrance, pushing in slowly and groaning at the ease of his entry.
And once he finally enters, it feels like pure ecstasy.
A curse tumbles from your lips as he reaches the hilt and holds himself there for a moment, savoring the tightness.
Unable to resist any longer, he leans over and captures your lips in a heated kiss as his hips begin to rock back and forth. The pace is anything but gentle, as if he's releasing all the pent-up sexual tension and frustration that has built up over the years. Jimin breaks away from the kiss, leaning back to thrust into you with even more force. Your body arches off the bed in response, and you can't help the moans and cries that escape your mouth.
"Do you want everyone to hear you?" His voice is laced with pleasure and teasing as his fingers dig into your hips, urging you closer to him.
“Oh, is that what you’re into?” You indulge him with your words, biting your lip in pleasure.
“Let’s talk about that another time.” Jimin laughs before he leans down to capture your lips again, his tongue pushing through and tasting all of you. His hips continue to thrust into you and the friction mixed with his tongue and warm breath is almost too much for you to take. 
He thrusts into you with a fierce force, causing your whole body to jolt and your nails to dig into the sheets. Jimin flips you onto your stomach and kneads your ass with strong, experienced hands. You let out a small whimper as he positions himself on his hands and knees behind you.
Without warning, two of his fingers slip inside of you, stretching you in a way that makes you press your face into the soft mattress beneath you. For several seconds, Jimin drills his fingers in and out of you, making you moan in pleasure before you quickly cover your lips.
Just when you think you can't take it anymore, Jimin pulls his fingers out and pushes his cock back inside of you with one swift motion. His length is hitting new angles in this position, rebuilding the pleasure that was torn away from you earlier. 
Jimin's hand comes down hard on your ass, giving a satisfying slap, before he lets you take charge. After a few moments of adjusting, you find a rhythm that elicits intoxicating sounds from deep within his throat. You are completely lost in the overwhelming pleasure when suddenly, a faint crackle fills the air behind you followed by the unmistakable scent of peach.
Curiosity getting the best of you, you shift your gaze over your shoulder to see Jimin taking a hit from a familiar vape pen – one that you've seen in Matthew's hands many times before. All movement halts as confusion washes over your face before quickly being replaced by desire once again when Jimin resumes thrusting his cock into you lazily as if it’s an afterthought. 
“Jimin! Are you seriously vaping right now? And using Matthew’s pen!?” Your eyes widen as you watch him take another hit from the small device. He’s so unserious at a time like this, but it’s somehow attractive. He’s so hot.
Jimin exhales a thick cloud of smoke and then tosses the vape onto the other side of the mattress with a mischievous glint in his eye. He snickers while glancing at you and your amused expression. His strong hands grip your hips tightly as he thrusts deep inside of you, sending shivers down your spine.
And just when you think things couldn't get any more wild, Jimin blows out a stream of smoke and shapes it into a playful heart with his fingers, making you burst into giggles.
 "Don't worry about it, angel." he says with a innocent grin before diving back to fucking you deep in Matthew’s mattress. This man is really hustling you with the same nickname Yoongi gave you… fuck.
He picks up the pace pounding into you, filling the air with the sound of your pleasure and skin slapping together. Heat is pooling in your stomach bringing you back to the brink of orgasm. 
With a low growl, Jimin pulls away pulling you up to kiss your lips hungrily. He guides you onto your back and pulls your legs onto his shoulders. Heat and electricity surge through you as he effortlessly moves your legs onto his shoulders, positioning himself between them.
Jimin’s dick slides in easily and perfectly into the warm embrace of your body.  The sensation is overwhelming as he rubs his thumb expertly over your clit, setting fire to every nerve ending in your body. You bite down hard on your lip to stifle the moan that threatens to escape.
Jimin's head falls back, lips parted in pleasure as he rides the waves of ecstasy building within him. Your best friend looks like a dream, with sweat glistening on his skin and his brows furrowed in concentration. And all of this pleasure is because of you.
His brow scrunches together when you clench your pussy around him, and it only fuels his desire further. He runs his finger quickly over your clit without resistance, thanks to the soaked state he’s left you in. His actions soon send you tumbling over the edge into pure blissful orgasm. Your toes curl and your legs shake as Jimin carefully removes them from his shoulders, leaving a soft kiss on the side of your leg.
As he pulls out and removes the condom, you watch curiously as he jerks himself off with one hand while looking at you lying completely spent and disheveled before him. It doesn't take long for hot ribbons of cum to spill from him and land on your legs, creating an erotic mess.
But the mood quickly shifts as Jimin loses his balance and falls onto the wet spot, making a mess of the sheets. You grab his hand and pull him upright, both of you bursting into a fit of giggles at the ridiculousness of the moment you two are in.
Surveying your wet patch on the sheets mixed with Jimin's own release, you can't help but laugh even harder. In this moment, there is no one else in the world but the two of you, lost in each other's company and overcome with pure joy. 
"Fuck, we made a mess of Matthew's sheets," Jimin exclaims, looking down with panic.
"Huh? Oh shit!" You quickly get up, hastily fixing your outfit before darting into the closet, searching for extra clean sheets. Oh he’s going to be so pissed his marketing class team members just fucked on his bed.
Your eyes light up as you find your solution on the top shelf. "Jimin, please help me take off those sheets and put them in a basket or something! I need to put these clean ones on, and...how are we going to sneak them into the washing machine so he doesn't see or smell them!" 
Panic takes over your tone, and Jimin finds amusement in your flustered state.
The two of you hurriedly set about cleaning up the evidence of your sex session, trying to maintain a semblance of order in Matthew's room. As you wrestle with the sheets, Jimin can’t help but chuckle at the comical situation unfolding before him. "I'll take care of the rest, darling," Jimin assures, placing his hand on your bare shoulder. "The majority of this house is drunk or stoned, so a guy carrying a bunch of sheets downstairs into the laundry room isn't going to spark obvious suspicion." He chuckles, in a way that sounds like what you imagine an actual angel to laugh like. "You should get your stuff and go back out to your friends. Tell me all the details about your thing with hyung tomorrow.” He pauses a bit before continuing “Talk to hyung too..something tells me that his sixth sense is aware."
Your tense shoulders deflate in slight relief, until they tense up once again at the thought of talking to Yoongi about this. You nod at Jimin, "Okay, I trust you'll do some 'Jimin Magic' and fix this, so I'm going now. I'll talk to Yoongs too, so, see you at home?"
"See you at home, love."
The endearing nickname, the same one Yoongi gave you, somehow gives off a different vibe when Jimin uses it. You can’t pinpoint why and decide not to dwell on it right now. Exiting the room, you head downstairs, pulling out your phone to type a message to Yoongi.
You [12:58 PM]: Sorry I couldn’t answer your call Yoongs.You [12:58 PM]: When you come back, can we talk?
+++++++++++++++++++++
November 5th [Monday]
Yoongi arrives at the airport early that morning, greeted by the sight of you waiting by the curb with Jimin's car with the trunk open. He smiles as he places his luggage in the trunk, appreciating the effort you made to pick him up. After a brief moment of pleading, you convince Yoongi to take the driver's seat since you are hesitant about driving Jimin's fancy car. Without much resistance, he agrees, and you settle into the passenger seat.
"So where to, princess?" Yoongi teases, catching you off guard with the nickname.
"Princess?!" You sputter, cheeks reddening. "You’re clearly the passenger princess here," He says, gesturing to your seat and chuckling.
"D-Damn, you just got back, and you already got me good, Min." You laugh, using your hands to cover your flushed cheeks. "Anyways, I was thinking of going to the breakfast place on Main Street." 
You take your phone, perched on the dashboard, to navigate Yoongi on the road.
"Is this also where we're going to discuss what you wanted to talk about?"
You take a moment before responding, "Yeah, there was something we may have overlooked in our rules while I was too busy sealing the deal by giving you a blowjob." You shyly admit, your gaze focusing on the road as he starts to drive.
"I think I know what you mean." Yoongi chuckles, using his right hand to pat your head, reassuring you about the upcoming conversation. 
The two of you change the topic for the time being, deciding to wait until you are at the restaurant to delve into the important discussion. The anticipation lingers in the air, adding a layer of tension to the otherwise casual breakfast outing. ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
It would be a lie to say that you’re not nervous to be having this conversation with Yoongi. It’s odd. You’ve never been this nervous about talking to him. It’s always been easy to approach Yoongi when it comes to difficult topics compared to your other besties. He always takes a more logic or reason-based approach rather than letting his feelings consume him. He’s the Yin to your Yang. When you tend to let your feelings get the best of you, he always comes to ground you with reason. Come on, Y/N. It’s a simple conversation. He’ll understand, right? Nothing can go wrong.
"So, we need to establish a new boundary in our agreement…" You finally let yourself begin, taking a bite of your blueberry pancakes.
"And the reason behind this is because..." Yoongi prompts after swallowing a piece of his bacon and spinach omelet that just arrived at the table.
Sitting on the restaurant's patio, shielded from the sun by a patio umbrella and surrounded by a variety of plants, you and Yoongi engage in a conversation. Despite it being November, it is comfortable enough to eat outdoors. You prefer the open space to avoid the risk of eavesdroppers inside the restaurant.
You fiddle around with your pancake, breaking the silence with, "Okay, you remember our talk about communication and our friends-with-benefits arrangement..."
Yoongi nods, signaling for you to continue with your confession. A momentary hesitation lingers, aware that Yoongi values straightforwardness without any sugar coating. This isn’t just about the communication rule; it is a characteristic of how he deals with everyone, especially you.
You sigh, making a deliberate effort to meet his gaze, conveying the sincerity of your words. "Well, I may have done something last week on Halloween...consensually, of course." Your eyes briefly wander, finding solace in a purple flower still blooming despite the season.
“You had sex with someone else?” “Yeah…” You continue, words carefully releasing from your lips from the anxiety. “I had debated that whole night before this encounter whether getting involved in this would break our agreement, but then I realized we never even discussed exclusivity.” You turn your gaze back to Yoongi, noting the firm expression on his face. However, his eyes betray a different story—they looked slightly glassy and sad. Despite this, he remains silent, leaving his thoughts unreadable. You hesitate to delve into what he might be feeling, fearing the unknown and the potential overthinking it could trigger.
Why did the weight of this situation suddenly hit you so hard? You aren’t in a relationship with Yoongi, yet it feels like cheating on him. In the past few days, you actively avoided confronting these conflicting emotions, aiming to shield yourself from the potential consequences. If you did, you probably would’ve tried to hide it in fear of the possibility of hurting him until you couldn't hide it anymore. But deep down, you know that wouldn't have lasted long; hiding anything from him is an impossible feat when he knows you so well.
"Would you mind if I asked who it was?" Yoongi inquires firmly. "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to." His eyes look into yours reassuringly.
Although you're not obligated to share, you feel it is only fair to Yoongi that you reveal the truth. Keeping it from him would likely make you feel even worse. You are aware that Jimin, to some extent, also feels a level of remorse for this shared encounter, despite his enjoyment in the moment.
"It was Jimin." You reply in a similar tone, keeping your gaze fixed on Yoongi. A brief silence settles over the small space that contains you and Yoongi, feeling like it lasts a century. You decide to add on, “Jimin also found out about us, from Jungkook, actually.”
Yoongi’s eyes flickered in confusion at the added revelation. A thousand more questions popped onto his mind. Did he tell more people? But he figured Jungkook was smart enough to not blabber about this to anyone unless he was be forced it cough it up, by none other than Jimin. And it didn’t seem like anyone else knew, yet at least. 
Finally, he sighs lowly, shifting his gaze down to his remaining food while rubbing his left temple. "Okay. Well shit, that was an oversight in our deal. I admit it."
Yoongi has pondered the possibility before, but he hasn't considered it a significant issue. Especially given his more prominent concern over JB, rather than Jimin, who was with Irene up until a few weeks ago. Namjoon is another factor that lingers in his thoughts since you ran after him when he and Jihyo broke up, but he seems to maintain a distance from anything too intimate with you. At least, from what he’s seen.
Jimin must’ve questioned you and made you realize on that oversight in the deal. Leading to what happened. Thought he isn’t sure.
Yoongi looks back at you and offers a smile, a gummy grin that makes you feel undeserving in this moment. "I don't know what you and Jimin did that led to that point, but don't feel bad. You did just as we agreed after all."
"No, I should've told you either way before that happened."
Yoongi internally wants to scoff. What could he have said if you had texted him about planning to hook up with Jimin that night he wasn't there? ‘Have fun? Let me know how it goes?’ The truth is, he’s in love with you. He wouldn’t be able to say that shit without it eating away at him. He cares about you and Jimin so much, and the thought of receiving a text from one of his best friends, that he’s in love with, saying they are going to fuck another one of his best friends, who he also cares about a lot, feels like a very fucking hard pill to swallow
Opting for a chuckle instead, he replies, "Yeah, but I'd rather not know about that." His attempt at lightening the mood is a feeble defense against the complex emotions swirling within him.
You look at him puzzled, uncertainty clouding your expression. Fuck, were you not supposed to say that? Did you fuck up that bad? Your mind raced with doubts; you thought communication should’ve been key.
"I'm so sorry, Yoongi." You apologize, the tightness in your chest growing as you witness his altered demeanor.
"It's fine." He responds in a feeble voice. Despite his words, you can’t shake the feeling that things aren’t as okay as he claims. The remainder of breakfast unfolds in silence. Soon after, Yoongi signals the waiter for the bill, pays it, and both of you make your way back to the car, driving home in a heavy atmosphere.
You offer to help Yoongi with his luggage when you open the trunk, but he signals with his hands that he has it covered. Walking inside together, a quiet heaviness lingers in the air. Before entering his room, Yoongi turns to address you one last time that day.
"Y/N, I'm going to need some time," He states, his words carrying a weight that mirrors the unresolved tension between you.
You sigh quietly, "I understand."
As he enters the room, the door closes with a deliberate yet not overly loud slam. It resonates enough to signify that he needs this space to process the revelations and emotions stirred by the day's unfolding events. Left standing in the hallway, you can’t help but wonder how this will impact the dynamics of your relationships with both Yoongi and Jimin in the days to come.
Back in your room, you throw yourself onto your bed, burying your face in the pillow in frustration. The weight of the situation presses down on you. You don’t know how long it will take for Yoongi to process. You’ve never really fought with Yoongi before compared to Jimin and Namjoon. Any disagreement you’ve had with Yoongi was very minor, like firmly saying strawberries are better than tangerines. Even during times when you’ve upset each other before, you two would quickly resolve things, whether it was through a heart-to-heart talk or food. Food is always the friendly option in a ceasefire between you all.
But this situation is entirely new and different, when will that happen…if it does?
You wouldn’t blame him if he decides it's best to end this agreement with him once and for all. Would you even want it to end? 
You’re not sure if that’s what you want him to do.
++++++++++++++
In the evening, you meet up with your marketing class team in the library to continue working on your group project. Jin has a Kappa Psi Pi board meeting, and Matthew has an intramural basketball match, leaving you, Hwasa, and Jimin to tackle the remaining tasks for the night. After completing the slide deck, Hwasa, with a midterm to study for, finishes her part of the work and heads back to her dorm.
Now, it's just you and Jimin in this small study room, working on the paper portion of the assignment.
Jimin has been sensing that something isn’t right since you entered the room earlier. He knows you were supposed to be talking to Yoongi today about the events at the Halloween party. By the looks of it, he doesn’t think the talk went well. He decides to ask you about it.
"So, how did the talk with Yoongi hyung go?" Jimin inquires, his eyes reflecting genuine concern for your well-being. Despite your attempts to stay strong throughout the day, Jimin's question finally shatters your exterior. Tears stream down your face as sobs escape uncontrollably. The intensity of your emotions surprises you, and you struggle to pinpoint the exact reason behind this overwhelming surge of despair. After all, it was your choice to have sex with Jimin that night; there was no commitment or exclusivity with Yoongi to tie you down to him. You’re not dating each other. Yet, witnessing his saddened and upset expression has an inexplicable impact on your heart, leaving you burdened with an empty pit filled with guilt. What kind of friend are you, using him for sex and moving on to the next when he’s not around? You didn’t even have the audacity to at least tell him beforehand.
“Hey, hey,” Jimin gets up from his seat soon after the first tears fall and wraps you in a tight hug that cradles your head in his hands. “You know you can talk to me, right? About anything.” he reassures you, giving you a smile of encouragement as you nod, trying to control your sobs.
You pull away from him, taking a long breath, you open your mouth and finally speak again. “H-He said he wants to take some time away from me…I think he actually hates me…” You continue to sob.
 It feels dumb somehow to be crying when you were the one who let everything happen with Jimin. It also feels dumb that you pushed this friends-with-benefits idea to Yoongi, only to be the one to hurt him as you failed to make rules that wouldn’t have you questioning them.
”Oh honey,” Jimin pulls you into another hug again.  “Yoongi can’t stay mad at you forever. He’s literally like your soulmate. You guys are so alike, and I know he feels heartbroken to do this too. I feel like he’ll come around soon.” The doubt lingers in your voice as you question through sobs, "You really believe that?"
"Of course I do!" Jimin pulls away, gazing directly into your eyes with sincerity. He wipes your tears away with the sleeves of his purple hoodie. His words act as a reassuring remedy for your overwhelmed mind. Maybe he's right; Yoongi will come around. You're just overthinking everything, scared because you've never faced this kind of thing before. But looking back at your past, you managed to overcome obstacles and reach resolutions, right?
Your mind drifts to your past relationship with Yeonjun, the one time you weren't able to do that. 
You don't want to end up in the same situation, growing strained from your best friend.
With a heavy heart, you and Jimin manage to compose yourselves and finish up some of the remaining parts of the project that night in the small study room. The weight of everything lingers in the air, and as you both head home, your thoughts continue to bother you. The uncertainty of when you and Yoongi will be able to speak to each other again weighs heavily on your mind, leaving you in a state of contemplation and anticipation.
++++++++++++++ November 16th [Friday]
The lingering tension between you and Yoongi seems to magnify with each passing day. The unspoken unease hangs in the air. As the days progress, a noticeable distance grows between you and Yoongi, creating an emotional chasm that neither of you seems eager to bridge.
Yoongi usually wakes up early before you and makes breakfast before you two head off to campus to go wherever you need to go. However, after Monday, he wakes up early, eats and leaves campus without you. Even in the evenings, when he comes home from classes or work, he barely mutters a single greeting before he scurries to his room. Luckily, because everyone has been busy with studying for midterms, no one questions his change in behavior.
However, the lack of any effort of communication from Min Yoongi starts to raise concern from Jimin.
He knows how Yoongi is like a soulmate to you, and reassures you that he can’t be upset for too long. But now it’s Friday evening, 11 days since you last genuinely talked to Yoongi. Too long. Jimin feels like he needs to get more involved since you getting into this mess was very much his fault. He cares about Yoongi, and while he too, loves you, this wasn’t fair of him to do.
There’s also the friends-with-benefits deal that you and Yoongi have. He still has many questions about how and why it even happened, which you have yet to really answer. The one thing he’s sure about is that he senses that neither of you want to end it despite this strain he caused. 
There's also a part of him feeling bitter at the thought of just continuing his life knowing his best friends are sleeping with each other until God knows when. Will this eventually lead you guys to date and eventually marry each other? Is this how Jimin will lose the girl he’s been interested in for years? He trusts Yoongi with his and your life as well, but he doesn’t like the thought of just letting Yoongi end up with you. What if there was a solution that could satisfy everyone in this situation? Jimin, being the wild card he is, comes up with an idea.
Determine to address this conflict, he approaches Yoongi's room and knocks on the door. "Hyung, can you come out?"
Evening falls, and the house that has been a hub of laughter and camaraderie now echoing with a quiet solemnity.  Yoongi and Jimin are the only ones home at this time, which is perfect timing for the confrontation. You, Hoseok and Namjoon are gone on a Trader Joe’s run to get more groceries for the house. Jin, Jungkook, and Taehyung are gone to compete for the university’s first esports tournament.
Jimin is a bit worried that Yoongi will be stubborn and refuse to open the door. If that happens, he plans to stand outside his window making noise until he decides to open it. Luckily for him, he doesn’t have to do that. Yoongi opens the door slightly ajar and looks at the younger man.
"We need to talk." Jimin asserts with a serious tone.
"About?" Yoongi yawns, feigning ignorance as to why Jimin is here. Though, a couple of theories swirl in his mind.
"You know what about!"
Yoongi lets out a groan, opening the door wider and gesturing for Jimin to enter. The room is cast in partial darkness, the ambient glow of LED strip lights on the ceiling and the illumination from Yoongi's laptop the only sources of light. Jimin settles on Jin's bed, positioned across from Yoongi's, as the air becomes charged with the weight of an impending conversation.
"Say what you gotta say, Jimin. I'm not really in the mood to talk." Yoongi responds, his tone carrying a coldness that sets the stage for a tense conversation. He takes a seat on his own bed, exuding an air of detachment.
“Asshole,” Jimin mutters under his breath, biting back the urge to argue. He knows any confrontation might result in an immediate dismissal from the room, cutting off any chance of dialogue. Instead, he pushes ahead with the purpose of his visit.
"Let's both be Y/N’s friends with benefits."
Yoongi's eyes widen, a mix of surprise and disbelief crossing his face. The proposal catches him off guard, leaving him momentarily speechless. Out of all the things he was expecting, this was not one of them at all. Did he really hear that right? "Huh? What did you just—"
"You heard me, Yoongi. Let's both fuck Y/N for a period of time, and then make her pick between us."
Yoongi scoffs at the proposition, disbelief etched across his face. Jimin must have lost his mind, he thinks. The competitive antics of their high school days, especially the virginity race, was one thing, but this suggestion takes the cake for ‘insane shit Park Jimin wants to do’. Words fail him momentarily.
"Whoa. Out of all the shit I thought I'd be hearing you out on, this was not one of them."
"What's so crazy about the idea? You're in love with her, aren't you?" Jimin points out.
Yoongi's eyes widen even further, blinking rapidly, and a flush of bright red colors his cheeks as if he were intoxicated. Love. He recalls the way you’d smile at him with those soft pink lips and sparkling eyes whenever you were intrigued with some of the random bullshit fun facts he’d talk to you about. He loves that about you. When he was 11 years old and fixated on marine biology for a period of time, he would talk to you about unique kinds of fish in the vast ocean and you would respond with further questions out of curiosity. For the first time in his life, he felt like someone was genuinely interested in spending time with him and hearing him out on whatever nonsense he wanted to share. Later on, he started making music because of you. You were the one who went to one of his piano recitals and suggested that he should make his own music. "Yoongi, you really do have so much talent and potential. Wouldn't it be cool if you made your own music and shared that with the world instead of playing pieces that already exist?" you once told him. This advice led him to study music production as a major, with a minor in psychology, driven by the desire to use music as a means of healing—a realization you inspired.
However, was his crush on you over the years that obvious to Jimin? What does that say about everyone else? Do they know? Do you even know how much he is in love with you?
Recalling that Friday night a month ago, he remembers confessing that he had wanted to touch you for so long. Does that revelation linger in your memory, or are you still oblivious to the emotions he has harbored over the years? Now, Yoongi finds himself questioning the sudden proposal of a fuck buddies arrangement and its purpose. Was it merely a distraction from the others, or does it signify something more?
"I am," Yoongi admits to Jimin, prompting a brief silence before he adds, "And what are you trying to say?" "Have you told her?" Jimin presses on.
Reluctantly, Yoongi admits, "No."
"Because you don't want to ruin the friendship we have, right?"
"Exactly."
"Then we're both in the same boat! I like her too, and I haven't told her yet." Yoongi scoffs at Jimin's words, leaving the younger man puzzled. He has been more concerned about Namjoon being the one to potentially sway you away, not Jimin. Until a few weeks ago, Jimin really had seemed committed to his relationship with Irene—a rare occurrence. Jimin usually hops in and out of relationships, so this revelation sounds a bit unbelievable to Yoongi.
Yoongi sneers at Jimin's revelation, disbelief etched in his voice. "You like her too? The guy with the largest body count in this house since high school?"
Jimin responds with a seriousness that belies his usual carefree demeanor. "What's so hard to believe? I've liked her since we were in the last year of middle school together. I was just...scared. So I coped in other ways to move on, but it never worked."
"Scared of telling her and changing our friendship? Welcome to the club." Yoongi sarcastically chuckles, narrowing his eyes at Jimin.
Jimin groans in frustration. "I know you, Namjoon, and I had an unspoken agreement in high school that we wouldn't get involved with her like that, but I think that's out of the window since you two decided to fuck behind our backs. I'm not okay with letting that happen because I like her too. So why don't we become her fuck buddies, and then she picks which one of us she wants to be with?"
"This is fucking ridiculous," Yoongi facepalms at the idea Jimin is proposing. He leans back against the headboard, his expression a mix of disbelief and exasperation. "We don't even know if she loves us in a romantic sense or if she'd be down to do something like that."
Jimin, undeterred, leans forward, his eyes searching Yoongi's for any sign of agreement. "Then how did you make it happen, huh?" He raises an eyebrow, a challenge in his tone. Yoongi, once again, isn't really sure how to answer the question. He takes a deep breath before he spills his own point of view of the situation from weeks ago.
"She was upset because of you and Namjoon being assholes, so I kissed her to distract her from those thoughts, and she kissed me back. Then we just came home and fucked. Then a few days later, she just came up to me while I was TA-ing, saying that she wanted to be fuck buddies. And me, being fully in love with her, agreed. I didn't question her motives nor did I want to."
"I'm guessing you hoped she would eventually start to fall for you through that experience." Jimin comments, a speculative tone in his voice. Yoongi sighs, but nods in agreement. Jimin. finally understanding the sequence of events that led to the being friends with benefits. Though, he wonders about your feelings. Why else would you want to do that with Yoongi?  The same question lingers in his own mind regarding his own actions on Halloween. There has to be underlying feelings that pushed both of you to take such risks. Feelings still left untold by you.
After a bit of contemplation from Yoongi, he finally breaks the silence. ”Mm, I wouldn’t be opposed to your idea, Jimin.” Jimin beams at Yoongi’s words as he continues. "Maybe through this, we could get a definite answer about who she'd rather be with. Then we can finally be free and move on from the feelings we have for her and find other people." Yoongi feels a bit liberated by saying his thoughts. As much as he'd love to keep this up forever, he wants to truly shower you with his uttermost love and affection instead of being bound to the restrictions of this friends with benefits situation. He knows it would hurt both of you in the long run due to uncertainty of your futures. 
"Exactly! So please don't be mad at Honey or me anymore for what happened. I know nothing we do will be able to turn back time to whenever you made your arrangement, but this new agreement will provide more clarity for all of us." Jimin explains, seeking understanding from Yoongi.
"I hate to agree to this, but fine. Let’s try this," Yoongi nods in agreement. "We should talk to her in her room when she gets back."
"Really?!" Jimin's response carries a hint of excitement, slightly more than he intended, prompting a chuckle from Yoongi. "Sounds good." he adds, signaling a tentative step toward resolving their intertwined feelings.
+++++++++++++
You just got home from buying groceries with Namjoon and Hoseok. While you hoped that leaving campus for a bit would take your mind off of Yoongi, it doesn’t prove to be as effective as you want. It’s been days and you don’t really know what to do except wait. Though it’s not easy because in no way are you a patient person. If you didn’t have Jimin or Hwasa to talk to about your struggle, you would’ve been having an agonizing time. Hwasa advised you earlier to do what you felt was best, but you didn’t know what that could be. You care a lot about Yoongi, and seeing him hurt makes you realize you never want to see him in that position again. Is it the best idea to end this arrangement? You don’t really want to do that, and that makes you question things further. Do you actually love him beyond the scope of friends?
As more questions continue to plague your mind, you decide to go up to your room to change into your pajamas after helping unload groceries. 
What you don’t expect to find once you close your door and turn on the lights are Yoongi and Jimin sitting on your bed with their arms crossed.
"Holy fucking shit?!" The exclamation bursts from you in fear, but before you can utter any more words, Jimin hastily shushes you.
"Please shut up before you make the other two downstairs suspicious!" Jimin insists with an aggressive whisper. As he utters those words, Namjoon's voice drifts from downstairs, inquiring if something is wrong.
”Uh, nothing wrong! Just…killed a spider!” You open the door and shout back to him, receiving a nonchalant 'okay' before closing and locking your door this time.
"Okay, what the fuck is going on?" You whisper, eyeing both men with suspicion, unsettled by their secretive behavior.
"Well, the good news is that Yoongi's not mad at us, right, hyung?" Jimin nudges the older man gently in the side, and Yoongi nods while looking at you.
Your shoulders slump in relief upon hearing and seeing that Yoongi's doing better. "O-Okay, that's great. But I'm assuming there's gotta be something else to this, isn't there?"
Yoongi and Jimin both gesture for you to come sit on the bed so they can speak to you closer and avoid being too loud for anyone else in the house to hear. Yoongi clears his throat. "What I'm about to say might sound crazy, but Jimin proposed this idea that he wants us both to be your fuck buddies."
Similar to Yoongi’s reaction when Jimin spoke to him earlier, your eyes bulge out in shock over his bluntness. Did he really just say that him and Jimin both want to be your fuck buddies. Huh?! What even led them to reach this conclusion and propose this idea to you? While the idea sounds crazy, yet enticing, it definitely sounds too good to be true. They can’t be serious, can they?! What the fuck.
”Hahahahaha!” You find yourself suddenly giggling manically with hints of nervousness laced to your laughs, but then you remember you have to keep quiet so you cover your mouth. They stare at you with confused expressions on their faces. “You guys are joking right? Is this a test of my loyalty or what? I’m trying to understand the motives behind this.”
”We…” Jimin slowly voices out, with hints of hesitation and fear. “We have feelings for you, Y/N.” 
Huh…
Your heart instantly drops to your ass as he finishes his sentence. You stop laughing suddenly and look at them anxiously.
Did Jimin really just say that they both have feelings for you? No way. This new revelation just adds onto the previous questions you had within the last month. You remember when Hwasa said that Yoongi seemed obviously in love with you last year, but you brushed it off by saying he’s being kind to you because you’re his best friend. Maybe she was really cooking with that theory, you think. On the otherhand, Jimin breaking up with Irene, coming to find you right after and kissing you? Could they really think of you beyond being their best friend? Or is this just because we’re horny college students mistaking an orgasm high for something else…
"What...feelings for me? When? How?"
You've been evading the questions Yoongi posed to you on that October night at the GOT party. The notion of being in love with your best friends feels forbidden, but you fear you can't escape those thoughts any longer as you’re being presented with this deal.
"We talked, and we thought this would be a good way to figure out whatever feelings we’ve been struggling with, while also… enjoying ourselves?" Jimin's voice is hesitant as he struggles to articulate this in the most convincing way possible. He's a business student and can't pitch this idea, he screams internally. Well, to be honest, he never thought he'd ever have to pitch this to anyone.
Yoongi cuts in before Jimin could say something else, "I thought he was insane too, not gonna lie. Even hesitated smacking him—"
"Hey!" Jimin uses his elbow this time to smack him in the side, making Yoongi wince.
"But he had good points. And also, you've been clearly trying to figure out your feelings since I asked you how you felt about us that one night. Maybe this will help you figure out some of those answers." Yoongi hits the nail with those words, sparking an epiphany within you. As crazy as the idea sounds, maybe this really could help resolve your dilemma. Oh god, you're really about to agree to this.
There's a bit of silence as you glance at both of them. You still have a lot of questions about their alleged feelings for you, but you go ahead and respond, "I-I'm down for the idea."
"You are?!" Both men say in unison, each with a different tone.
"Yeah, but we just really have to set better boundaries this time so we don't end up in another fight. Please." You look at them with pleading eyes, hoping to avoid another conflict with them. They exchange glances and nod in agreement.
Yoongi clears his throat, breaking the momentary silence. "Alright then, let's establish some to make sure we don't mess things up again." He leans back on his palms, breaking into a smirk. "Rule number one, we need to be brutally honest with each other. No cryptic messages, no hidden meanings. Just straight talk, yeah?"
Jimin, slouching comfortably, nods, "Yeah, I like that. We could also add a rule on emotional check-ins. We’re still best friends at the end of the day, so we gotta make sure we’re all doing this and we’re feeling good about it. And if any of you are having doubts, we need to discuss it, like hyung said."
"Oh! That’s a good one!” You add, tapping your fingers on your knee, trying to think of something else. “Transparency is kinda similar to Yoong’s idea, but just want to add that so we don’t keep secrets from each other. I’m going to be sleeping with both of you, but we don’t have to stay exclusive if you don’t want to. Just let me know whatever booty calls you decide to have and I’ll let you know too. Don’t think I will have any more though!” You laugh lightly, trying to brighten up the atmosphere from this tough conversation.
You know you’ll be plenty occupied being filled by 2 men, so the thought of someone else filling up another slot doesn’t cross your mind right now. Maybe it does, but you’re actively trying to avoid thinking about it too hard. That person would make things more complicated than these two.
Yoongi nods silently in agreement while Jimin responds, "Yeah, I agree with that. I don’t think we’ll get involved with anyone else because we’re trying to settle this, but we’ll keep the rules in mind,”
“Any other stuff we're missing?" Jimin continues, staring at both of you before he clears his throat to speak up, “Well, it’s time to bring up my grand idea to make things more exciting: experimentation. I don’t know if you two had something like that.” Well, it was mentioned, but you guys didn’t do anything too crazy besides the blowjob in Mr. Kang’s office and the mirror sex. Otherwise, things were pretty tame. You exchange glances with Yoongi, both intrigued and wary. "We kinda did, but we didn’t really do much. What kind of things are you suggesting we experiment." The idea excites you, injecting a thrill into arrangement, yet beneath the excitement lurks a hint of nervousness. The unknown territory of experimentation sparks curiosity, but you wonder how it will affect the dynamic between you three. What things could they both even suggest? "You'll find out soon," Jimin says, a deep smile forming, his eyes transforming into crescent moons. It sends a shiver down your spine—this man is undeniably dangerous. "But, of course, consent is crucial in whatever we do. And protection! We'll use condoms, and it's up to you if you wanna use birth control. I know it sucks for you guys."
You’re glad Jimin is aware of the complications of women’s birth control and is considerate of your needs. The birth control idea is something you'll need to think about, but it does spark a tinge of fear to use it. Though, there is something you wanted to try out and that would require you on birth control. You’ll see.
“Would a group chat between us be good to stay up to date or whatever?” Yoongi suggests. You and Jimin hum and nod in agreement. Yoongi begins setting it up, naming it 0309x1013. Right after he does that, he looks up, a mischievous glint in his eyes.
"Now, we gotta seal the deal somehow," 
You look at him innocently, "Seal the deal? How?" You of all people know how this went last time with Yoongi, but you want to hear from them this time.
Both Yoongi and Jimin exchange a knowing glance, and then Jimin speaks up, "How about with a kiss?"
Your eyes widen in surprise. The thought of a kiss catches you off guard, especially with the awareness that Namjoon and Hoseok could come up any minute to randomly check on you. You might not have enough time, and you realize you all need to act quickly.
"Are you sure we should do that, what about them?" you ask, a mix of curiosity and nervousness in your voice as you point out to the two men downstairs
"It’ll be fine!" Jimin shrugs, “We’ll be quick,”
"Yeah, and the kiss will make it official," Yoongi adds, his gaze still fixed on you.
You take a moment to assess the situation. The idea of sealing the deal with a kiss feels surreal, but you can't deny the underlying excitement. Glancing at the clock, you calculate the time left before Namjoon and Hoseok might come by to check on you since you haven’t returned downstairs. You did mention wanting to watch a movie with Namjoon after they finished putting groceries away. Shit.
"Okay," you say, a hint of a smile forming. "But make it quick. We don't want any unexpected guests."
The three of you lean in, creating a makeshift circle on your bed. The atmosphere is charged with a blend of anticipation and curiosity as the prospect of this unusual arrangement takes a concrete step forward.
As Yoongi and Jimin lean in to kiss your cheeks, the gesture feels surprisingly tender, a prelude to what's to come. Yoongi places a gentle kiss on your left cheek, while Jimin follows suit on the right. The air seems to crackle with a newfound intensity. Your heart is beating fast, and for some reason, you can sense that things are about to take an unexpected turn.
Just when you thought it would end there, Yoongi's actions catch you off guard. After planting a sweet kiss on your cheek, he quickly redirects his lips to yours with an undeniable hunger. The kiss becomes heated, fueled by a fire that seems to have been lingering beneath the surface. For a moment, you're swept away by the intensity. This kiss feels more intense than the first one you had with him. You find yourselves detaching, breathless as a thin string of saliva still keeps you connected
As you process what the fuck just happened, Jimin seizes the opportunity. With a sly smile, he leans in, taking over where Yoongi left off. The transition is seamless. Jimin's lips, warm and soft, carry a subtle taste of anticipation as they meet yours. The sensation is both thrilling and delicate, creating a vivid contrast to the bold move he just orchestrated. The plushness of his lips melds seamlessly with yours, each movement leaving a lingering lust. Just as you feel yourself get more into it, he lets go of your lips. You’re still stuck in the haze of lust when you suddenly hear the distinct sound of footsteps ascending the stairs. Fuck. Panic sets in, dispersing the remnants of horniness as the reality of your situation dawns on you. With a synchronized effort, you and the two men scramble to discreetly rearrange yourselves around the room, attempting to appear less conspicuous. You go into the bathroom.
Just as you manage to compose yourself, a knock echoes through the room, and Jimin swiftly moves to open the door. He opens the door, revealing Namjoon on the other side, you try to suppress the nervous flutter in your chest. Jimin's casual greeting conceals the recent tumultuous events within your room. “Oh! Hyung, hello!” Jimin looks surprised, and smiles.
“Jimin? You’re here,” Namjoon remarks, his gaze briefly darting around the room and sees the other cat-eyed man seated on the floor scrolling on his phone. “Yoongi too? Where’s Y/N?” He’s a little caught off guard by the little club in your room, but nothing too suspicious because you all are best friends.
Yoongi nonchalantly points to the bathroom. “She’s in the bathroom taking a shit.”
You can't help but scoff from behind the closed door, annoyed at Yoongi's less-than-dignified explanation. "I’m not! I’m changing!" you retort, cursing Yoongi silently for his misinformation.
Namjoon lets out an understanding sound. "Well, I have the TV set up so we can watch the movie. You better come down after you finish," he shouts towards your direction before heading back downstairs.
As the coast clears, you slide down against the bathroom door in relief, feeling the weight of the chaotic deal you’re in.
“This is the virginity race all over again, isn’t it?”
Yoongi and Jimin can't help but chuckle at your question from outside the door. Their laughter, in a strange way, reminds you of the random antics you all would get involved in from high school. 
A time when your best friends would orbit your life like planets encircling the sun. Things are really starting to feel back to normal. 
However these grown men now, with their absurd proposal and spontaneous antics, will undoubtedly be the end of you.
tbc :o a/n: still so much left to uncover! holidays are approaching for these peeps, so many questions left unanswered, also NAMJOON. we need more of him so don't worry I'M ON IT! anyone have any thoughts? i'd love to heart about them so lmk hehehe if you did enjoy, please interact however you can! reblog, like, share with friends!
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mc-lukanette · 7 months
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Luka did his best to make certain of things. He never wanted to assume, nor get in anyone else's way. It wasn't because he was meek or passive, rather he was simply happy where he was and would rather gauge people's comfort first, seeing whether they wished to approach him first.
But he could also take a hint, and he'd smash every guitar he owned if he was wrong.
It started when Juleka had told them that Marinette had put more focus into her personal projects and gave away certain presents she'd been keeping in a chest. He hadn't been sure what caused the change, but guessed that it must've been some sort of epiphany or major life choice.
That alone wouldn't have affected Luka beyond being happier at seeing her happier, but then she began to approach him more. She sat next to him when he played, peered up at him with her eyes looking extra blue, and asked if she could come along to help whenever he went to get everyone drinks so they could keep going with their conversation. All the while, she would look absolutely happy.
He arrived at the Dupain-Cheng residence once to see her for a little creativity session, but the second Marinette's mother had called up that he'd arrived, there were rapid footsteps like she was moving around. He was encouraged to go up anyway, but he waited for all the noise to stop before opening the trapdoor.
He found Marinette sitting on her chaise lounge, one leg crossed over the other. She attempted to flip her hair - freed from her usual style - and only flinched slightly when it smacked her in the face. It was actually impressive how it was both clumsy and attractive of her.
Point being, she was blatantly gauging his interest in her, and Luka was indeed very interested.
He debated on what to do for a while. Asking her out was obvious, but he didn't have any experience. He'd been flirted with in school and confessed to once or twice, but he was never the one doing the pursuing, nor had he had a serious crush before Marinette.
He couldn't just do nothing though. This was the opportunity of a lifetime, a pleasant tingling sensation running through him at the thought of what that glowing face of hers might look like having fun on a date with him.
——
Luka arrived at the bakery, going through the side door as Marinette's friends were allowed to do in order to bypass the bakery itself. In his hand was a small, clear bag full of a few chocolate chip cookies he'd made.
While he was more used to cooking than baking, he knew that the actual quality wasn't important. Marinette loved using gifts and shows of effort as her way of expressing affection, which was what Luka set out to provide. He even caught himself smiling, thinking about them making horrible yet effort-filled presents for each other. They'd laugh about how silly they look, but ultimately keep each one.
He liked to think he wasn't an impatient person, but imagining the potential made him want to ask her out even more.
After ascending the stairs, Luka knocked on the trapdoor and called out, "Marinette?"
"Oh!" came a muffled voice from the other side. "Luka, you're here!"
There were some more shuffling noises, then a click as the trap door started to open. Marinette peered down at him with a smile, then gaped once he presented his gift.
"For me?"
He nodded, their fingers brushing as the tiny bag went from his hand to hers. She moved out of the way to let him in, Luka going into her room and taking a brief look around to see what she'd been up to. He could always feel her creativity spread through the room and it was one of his favorite things.
"Aw, they're so cute!" Marinette cooed, plopping down on her chaise lounge and raising the bag up to the light to admire it. "You made these?"
He nodded, though of course it was obvious that they weren't from a bakery. They were slightly misshapen and some had far more chocolate chips than others.
"Ohh, is this a flower from the Liberty?" she squealed, affectionately stroking the petals. "I almost don't want to eat any."
"Well—"
"I said almost," she huffed, already loosening the ribbon in protest. She took one cookie out, then retightened the ribbon to preserve the appearance.
Watching her, Luka warned, "They're probably not as sweet as the ones at the bakery."
"Please." She bit in and started chewing, only swallowing just enough to speak again. "I've had so many perfect sweets from my parents that all taste exactly the same. Give me imperfect ones any day."
He hummed, going over to sit down next to her. Though he wished to tell her that he’d make her as many as she wanted, he had to get past “step one” first. “Marinette?”
She'd just taken another bite, so she could only let out a grumble that she was listening.
Luka tapped his thigh in thought, mulling things over, then decided to just come out and ask, "...Are you doing anything on Saturday?"
It was her "free day" starting from when she'd tried to rearrange her life, but he figured he'd ask anyway. She dedicated it to "her time" usually, but had opened it up for him and only him on occasion. It was another - if not the - blatant hint.
Despite that, she pouted, squinting like she was trying to remember something. "Mmm, let me check..."
That was the second reason Luka had decided to ask her in her room: she kept her plans there. Marinette stood up, putting the rest of her cookie in her mouth, then wandered over to the center of her room so she could pull down her calendar and look at it. Her finger traveled across it to find the specific date, followed by a considerate tap.
She went to speak, but was delayed by the cookie still in her mouth. After swallowing, she admitted, "Oh, not yet, but I was planning to ask you out on a date then."
The atmosphere stilled, and so did Luka. He could see the moment Marinette realized what she'd said, her hand freezing in place on the calendar. He tried to say anything to comfort her, but what came out was more like a strangled laugh.
She beat me to playing the first note.
"W-wait! No!" Marinette turned, throwing her arms up and rambling, "I didn't mean—I mean, I did mean, but I didn't mean to do it now! My timing was off, you deserve better than that, and—"
"Yes," he interrupted the moment he could calm himself.
She paused, staring at him as if repeating the past few seconds in her head, then asked, "Yes that my timing was off, or yes that you deserve better than that... or both?"
"Yes, I'd love to go out on a date with you," he clarified, beaming up at her. Standing, he approached to be closer to her. "I was about to ask you out anyway."
"You—you—!" She gasped, jumping up excitedly and grabbing hold of his jacket. "Then yes! I want to go out with you too! I wanted to go out with you forever!" She tugged up and down on the fabric, still buzzing with energy, but halted at the realization, "Wait, but if I asked you and you asked me, does that mean we go out on two dates then?"
She was too cute. He wasn't sure if he could wait for Saturday, which suddenly seemed so far away.
"What about now?"
She tilted her head at him, curious. "Now?"
"Are you busy?"
She stepped away in contemplation, tapping her chin. "Mm... no? I think I finished everything I wanted to do." However, she pointed at him with a stern expression, apparently taking this situation extra seriously. "But, we'll have to go in sync down the stairs, or my parents will hear that we're both going somewhere. They won't be able to stop taking pictures of us!"
Luka weighed that in his mind, noting, "I could use a new wallpaper for my phone."
"L-Luka! You wouldn't!" Marinette shouted, blushing red at the mere mental image.
Their date today also suddenly seemed so far away.
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anakinskywalker97 · 4 months
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Trash Compactor pt. 2
Anakin x Padawan Reader
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Part One
Summary: the reader struggles to find a way to reach that same level of pleasure and release, with no other option she returns to her master for help. Anakin's POV - if this does well I'll do another part from the reader's pov where she loses her virginity. I also love how this turned into a smut slow burn - 3063 words yikes
Warnings: orgasms, blow jobs, fingering, kissing - Anakin has trauma from a toxic relationship implied abuse -( reader is legal and only a few years younger than Anakin)
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Anakin could feel your body trying to cope over the next few days. During the day you were your usual determined and ambitious self - at night, however, he could feel your desire. Burning heat surrounding you, he could feel it reach towards him brushing the edges of his mind before you would be overcome with frustration and your mind would shut down. Your thoughts seemed to gravitate only towards him as you tried to pleasure yourself. A thought that forced his hard cock into his hand as he lay in bed trying to sleep. 
It took you three nights like this before the episode was followed by a knock at his door. He opened it not moving from his spot in his bed. He stayed focused on the data pad in his hands knowing perfectly well why you were here. 
He wanted it to be about something else. That you had nightmares or doubts about the war, something within his boundaries of being your master. 
The door shut and you walked through his compartment. The feeling in your stomach moved from hopeful to embarrassment and shame. Something hot twisted in his chest at the thought of treating you that way. 
He looked up at your flushed face and wet eyes and he immediately wanted to help. 
He put the datapad down on his side table and crossed his arms, studying you closely. He knew you hated it when he did that, he didn't want you to feel the way he was made to feel so often but he also needed it to come from you. You needed to ask and pursue him, he wouldn't invite this out of his respect for you. 
Please 
Please what? 
Help me with this - even when speaking through the bond your voice was desperate. He could feel how overwhelmed you were and it hurt his heart to see you that way. 
“Alright. Come here” He motioned for you to come onto the bed. You wasted no time. You climbed on the bed straddling his hips. His arms wrapped around you and he let you use his body to grind against. You were so overcome with need that you had no shame. His cock ached painfully under your hips. He would lose his control if this kept up for much longer. 
Let me show you
He pushed you down into the bed next to him. Something flashed in your eyes and he wanted more than anything to be rough with you. See how far he could push you. He pushed those thoughts from his mind and tried to focus on teaching you what you needed so they could move past this. 
He lay on his side with his arm propping up his head. His other hand moved to your stomach. He brushed his fingers across the flesh above the top of your Pajama shorts. 
Can I touch you? 
You nodded, the tension in your body was unlike anything Anakin had ever seen before. He dipped his fingers under the waistband of your shorts. He could feel your anticipation deep in his own gut. Your breath was shaky and your eyes closed. He parted your folds and slipped his index finger over your swollen clit. The bond between you was inescapable. Your pleasure ran through him. He brushed against your clit in a rhythmic motion, letting it build up inside you. When he could feel what you wanted getting closer, your body shaking again, he stopped. 
Now you do it
You shook your head. He hated it when you were difficult in training. This was a million times worse. He needed you to do this to preserve what was between them. He got up on his knees and pulled your shorts off. You clamped your legs together in embarrassment and he pulled them apart, moving between your legs. He looked down at your core and moaned. 
Touch yourself - he ordered you harshly and he watched how that only made you slip away further. You knew from training that he would hold you there until you did what he wanted. 
He watched your slender fingers move down into the wet mess on display for him. Your fingers moved along your clit and he watched as your jaw clenched and your legs tensed. He could see you trying but something was preventing your body from releasing. 
Good girl. - He praised you and watched the words ripple through your body and mind. - Let go for me, you can do it 
I cant 
He could feel that you genuinely wanted to but couldn't finish. He let out a heavy sigh. His fingers pushed yours out of the way and the pleasure bond between them grew taught again. His fingers brushed your clit with rhythmic precision and he watched your legs clamp around him. You held your breath on and off and he wondered if you would enjoy his hand around your throat. When your hips began to buck he pushed your legs open even farther. If he couldn't be in you, he could at least watch the show. 
Your body finally found release at his touch and you put on a beautiful display for him. Your hole clenching around nothing, back arched, chest heaving. He kept touching you until tears filled your eyes and your hand grabbed his trying to pull it away. 
Better? - He wondered if you would have a moment of clarity on the situation. You only cried, he could tell it was not from negative feelings or pain. It was just the release working its way through your tightly wound body. He could hardly send you back to your room like this, he couldn't stand the thought of being away from you when you cried. Where Obi-Wan would leave him to soothe his own emotions he always wanted to run at yours head first, like his presence could make their passage through your body easier. 
He got up and felt the fear rip through you. He used the force to press you back into the bed, his presence calming you. He came back with a warm washcloth and carefully washed you. He would also probably need a few minutes in the bathroom to take care of the ache in his cock, but he could feel how badly you wanted him at your side. He sighed and got them both settled into bed. Sleep found you quickly tucked against his side. Knowing he could sense when you were awake he used his free hand to stroke himself into a release, cleaning it off with the used washcloth. 
_______________________
Anakin figured you would be set. You knew where to touch and what worked for you. He could resume his job, although haunted by the images he now had burned into his mind. You were smart and they continued on as they normally did throughout the day. Training was hard as it required close proximity and occasional touches. He watched you push it down and focus. 
It took you two nights before he felt you move down the hall to his room. No shame this time, only need. He sat down on the edge of the bed facing the window, he felt you come sit next to him. 
“I don’t want to hurt you, but we can’t keep going like this.” He said seriously, scanning you for every emotion. 
“I know, I feel like if we don’t do more I’m going to lose myself in it.” You whispered looking out the window. “I get why it’s frowned upon. Every thought I have is secondary to you. You're constantly on my mind.” 
“If we do more, it will only get worse.” 
“Master, I’m not sure this is the usual way people feel.” Your cheeks turned pink.
“It’s the force bond.” He said. “You and I have always felt things in unison.” 
“I’m not so sure of that either. There is no information on force relationships. But the force just keeps driving me towards you. I think it’s beyond us or The Order.” 
He thought about your words for a long while. He knew it was eating you just as badly as it was him. He had no one to ask, so he laid back on the bed and cleared his mind. Once he left the attachments of the world behind him he could feel everything pulling him towards you. He groaned. He felt your fingers brush along the muscles of his abdomen. He grabbed your wrist and moved your hand away. Rejection pulsed through you and he felt suffocated by all these emotions. 
“I won’t take from you.” The words were out of his mouth before he had fully realized what they meant. Still holding your hand he let you in on his stream of thought. The feeling that was holding him back crashed over him as he realized where it had originated from. Padme. She would take whatever she wanted from him whenever she wanted it. He liked finally feeling wanted and needed. The Jedi had been so cold to him, and Obi-Wan often sided with them. She didn’t want him to be the chosen one, she just wanted his body and he was young enough to think it was love. Pain coursed through his chest before he felt your love press against him. He wouldn't treat you that way, he wouldn't abuse someone younger and less powerful than he was. 
You would never- Your voice rang through his head with an eerie and cold tone. He felt the faith you had in him and it gripped him tightly. But you didn't know in which all the ways he wanted you.
Please - your eyes got wide as you begged and he sighed knowing that he would never be strong enough to turn you away. 
Yes - Once the thought had reached you he felt a weight lift off his chest. He would let you touch him, but nothing more than that till he figured things out. He felt your hands pull down the waistband of his boxers. He laid on his back and put his arms behind his head. He wouldn't walk you through this, he would simply enjoy what you wanted to give him. 
You cautiously weighed his cock in your hands. Pleasure ripped through him when you loosely dragged your fingertips along the dark purple vein running along the bottom. He wondered how you both would even manage to have sex. 
You kicked off your clothes and he watched feeling already like this might be heading a step farther than he wanted to go. You sat on your knees at the side of his hip and continued to stroke him. It took you a while to get it but eventually, your fingers loosely curled around him and ran up and down slowly. 
He relaxed into the feeling and could feel the content pride radiating off of you. Your touch started to break apart his argument, you were only three years younger than him. You were 25 and while innocent he certainly couldn't manipulate you without you feeling it. Everything between you was shared and he didn't feel anything evil. 
A wet sensation pulled him from his thoughts and he pushed himself up onto his forearms. You’d taken the head of his cock in your mouth, the heat and texture alone made him want to cum. He was going to pull you off but he could feel your curiosity and didn't want to shame you. You tried to fit more and more of him into your mouth, and he trailed his hand along the curve of your ass. Despite being able to feel your emotions he ran his fingers down your slit to see if you were enjoying yourself. 
You gasped and choked on him. The sensation was blissful and he watched your flushed face recover and try again. He laid back and enjoyed the added pleasure he felt from the bond as he stroked your folds. You were wet and swollen, he avoided your clit thinking you probably had enough going on at the moment. You tried to sort out what you wanted to do with his cock in your mouth, you gave a suck and his hips bucked involuntarily. 
Sorry - But he could feel you take his momentary lapse of control as a personal victory. You tried to suck while taking him deeper, the head of his cock flirting with your gag reflex. 
He pushed his fingers a little deeper and found your entrance. He teased the opening with the tp of his index finger, he could feel you try to will the force to pull him inside you. He forgot himself for a moment and landed a hard slap on your ass. Pleasure ran through you and you pulled off him to lay your head on his stomach for a moment, breathing heavily. He waited for your response but you just tried even harder to get him down your throat. 
He found your hole again and pressed against the flesh barrier he vowed not to take. He would try to keep that promise, at least until they have themselves a bit more sorted out. He couldn't survive being something you regretted. He pressed the tip of his finger inside you, then began to push farther. There was a darkness in him that enjoyed the fact that he was the only one to touch you here. His body was the first to enter yours. He was the only person to bring you pleasure. 
He pressed his finger inside you, finally all the way in. Your walls fluttered at the intrusion then clamped around him tightly when he curled his finger to find the spot he was looking for. 
He felt his cock push into your throat and he fought hard to keep still. You really shouldn't be pushing yourself this hard. All that radiated off of you was bliss so he let the more selfish parts of him win. 
He stroked that part inside you, eventually making you stretch around two fingers. Your throat and pussy would constrict at the same time, pushing more of your wetness dripping down his hand and wrist. 
You were learning how to breathe, and how to manage a rhythm without choking yourself. He groaned again and the sound shook through you. He could feel that you were close so he pressed on, wanting to bring you over the edge. You still wouldn't give up his cock, pushing him deep inside you, gagging and pulsing around him. When your body started to tense up around his fingers, your orgasm pulled him in. He lost all control with you and felt himself cum down your throat. You blacked out for a moment and he pulled your head up. You started to cough hard and he gave you the glass of water from the side table. He ran a hand through his hair, hoping you weren't injured. The last thing he wanted was to try and explain why his Padawan had a bruised esophagus at 3am. 
You looked at him with bright, hazy eyes. You were still so wrapped up in pleasure, so vulnerable in his lap. He carried you into the bathroom and sat you on the toilet while he looked for an extra toothbrush. You were so unbelievably pliable and obedient like this. You brushed your teeth and did as he wanted you to. 
They got into bed and he pulled you in against his chest tightly. 
Master? 
Yes? - He should have known it wouldn't be that easy. 
Will you kiss me? - Your words hit him like a starfighter blast. He hadn't seriously let you blow him without ever kissing you. His guilt ran through him, and thoughts of being compared to his former lover started to eat him. 
Please? - those eyes were back. 
I’m sorry that I - He was at a loss for words. 
Please never apologize for the stuff we do - You stretched against him clearly enjoying the feeling of your released muscles. His hand gripped the back of your neck and your eyes flared. 
Look at me like that and we won’t ever leave the bed 
Good 
He brushed his lips against yours softly. Your pulse quickened and you tried to kiss him back the best you could. 
I think I’ll have to practice - he felt your embarrassment radiate off of you and he laughed. 
Best kiss of my life. Don’t worry I’ll help you get the hang of it. - He let you kiss him till you were tired out. Then you both clung to the few hours of sleep left available before the day started.
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maggstar · 1 year
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𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐁𝐞𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐞
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𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: 18+, mni DNI!
𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: When Heeseung got assigned by his college to organize the annual gathering for the newly accepted students, he didn't expect to meet you, a charming biker who was lucky enough to slip her number into his pockets after scoring the boy with a green beanie.
𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: smut, hookup, protected sex, oral (m. and f. receiving), experienced reader, Heeseung is a virgin.
𝐖𝐂: 4.3k
𝐀/𝐍: Hellooo, I'm back from the dead. 😃 Anyway, I hope you guys like this short fic I literally had in my drabbles for months.
Please leave any sort of feedback: reblogging and commenting is the best for me, so let me know!
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Heeseung didn't understand why the college scheduled an annual gathering for the newcomers who successfully passed every year, especially when they assigned him as the leading organizer.
He wasn't a student who carried exceptional grades, thankful for passing a semester successfully, spending time outside rather than in books.
However, his teachers thought otherwise, somehow seeing the potential he didn't, encouraging the boy to pursue a better path. Their strategy was to assign him responsibility, passing him significant roles in organizations.
He caught their joyful gazes when he sat beside the table, crossing the upcoming attendees off the list once they arrived, sighing at the remaining amount, which decreased slowly.
Chae-Won voluntarily joined the assignment to help Heeseung, welcoming the new students passing by with a big smile and enjoying the fresh encounters.
If it hadn't been for her, he probably wouldn't have been here in the first place. All these responsibilities that were supposed to lead him to a better path weren't doing shit. He didn't care about any of it and spent most of his time on his telephone playing LOL to finally rank up. Chae-won found his vain attempt hilarious and constantly interrupted his game by randomly pressing on his screen.
"Don't be a grump, come on!" her delicate voice conveyed, playfully prodding his shoulder as she laughed at his annoyed groan. He glimpsed at her and, for a second, felt a wave of ease coming over.
They weren't friends for long but had already created a good bond. Their meeting was, in fact, accidental, because they got assigned to a side project for the school faculty. She was the head of the group, and Heeseung soon realized that they clicked.
After that, she always picked him as her helper, doing almost everything together. She was someone who he needed: organized and disciplined. He was the complete opposite. In a way, his teachers were content with this outcome, internally thanking her for her decision.
"I've had enough this term," he leaned back on the chair, resting his hands between his legs, "they need to find someone else." The cheers from afar increased as the students greeted the principal, who held a big smile on his face.
"Ah, you're so dramatic," she remarked after rolling her eyes, scribbling something on the paper. Heeseung glanced to see a sketch of a person with their tongue out. He only shot her an annoyed look before going back to his phone.
However, he got disrupted by the sudden rackety sound of a motor engine arriving at the place, boosting the unbearable noise when shortening the distance. His head turned to the owner of the disturbance arriving on a motorcycle.
All the other students were caught up by the appearance as well, their focus now fully intended on the driver and not the principal. Chae-won slanted over to get a better view of the person, who was now parking their motorcycle before striking the ground with their feet.
They slowly took off their helmet, flipping their long, dark hair to regain its previous state, running their fingers through it to mess it up a bit. Pressing the lock button on her keys, the female corrected her posture amidst fixing her leather jacket and checking her appearance in the convex mirror. The revelation took Heeseung by surprise, his jaw lowering at the fine lady.
"Damn, who is she?" he sighed, unable to unlock his immersed gaze from the biker. Her body moved leisurely, putting slight power in her movements. It was on purpose, for sure, but it definitely made her occur attractively.
"I've no clue, but she's hot," Chae-Won declared, fidgeting with her necklace. Heeseung didn't even perceive her disclosure, still eyeing the woman ahead. It didn't take him long to realize the upcoming interaction when you started walking towards their table with a great smirk.
Nonetheless, he managed to panic once you approached them, almost falling out of the chair. The struggle to create eye contact was evident as he nervously looked at the paper ahead, feeling his heartbeat boosting.
"Hello," your deep voice greeted, " I'm Y/L/N Y/N."
Fuck
He nodded, trying to suppress his heart straining to burst out. He searched for your name on the list, crossing it out when the pencil landed on it. Chae-Won was supposed to take things from here and navigate you to the school garden. However, she didn't move but exchanged an evil grin instead. Then she had the audacity to tilt her head towards you.
"Come on, Heeseung, you don't want to keep her waiting," he froze at the unexpected change of plans, furrowing his brows at the playful girl.
It was rare to see Heeseung flustered around a girl, so Chae-won wanted to make the most out of this opportunity. Deep down, she wished he would finally have a thing with someone to come out of his shell. If it doesn't work out, she can still shoot her shot.
"But you-" he glanced at her, knowing he couldn't walk with you without embarrassing himself.
It was his clumsiness that distracted all of the girls away. They saw him as an oddball and used him instead for their advantage. He didn't want to mess up his chance with you, unsure if he could save a mortifying moment from occurring as he did seconds ago.
Regardless, Chae-Won seemed determined, crossing her arms before tapping her foot impatiently and winking at Heeseung. He didn't understand her intentions, furrowing his brows at the goofball.
You chuckled when he stood beside you, hiding his trembling hands in his pockets. He probably contemplated life amidst staring at the ground, but you found it adorable. There was something precious about boys feeling intimidated by you, but for some reason, you enjoyed his reaction the most.
"So, are we going?" you smiled, watching him show the way before walking beside the building.
You jumbled the helmet from one hand to the other as you followed the boy, eyeing him in the meantime. He was wearing a green beanie, fashion sense reminding of a skater boy mixed with a hipster, somehow appearing handsome.
He wasn't your type, swiftly reminiscing the boys you hooked up with in the past, who were nothing compared to Heeseung. The boy possessed breathtaking visuals: from the way his big, doe eyes sparkled under the moonlight to him biting his bottom lip.
Everything appeared majestic to you, and you got lost in his beauty. Under normal circumstances, you wouldn't drool over a boy, but he was an exception you were willing to make.
Heeseung, on the other hand, couldn't control the sudden excitement in his chest. He felt a pair of eyes on him, and he didn't know why it made him so happy. Most of the girls he knew were innocent, bubbly personalities or try-hard tomboys.
Nevertheless, today he encountered someone with such a powerful aura for the first time. It was the confident walk accompanying your alluring face that gave it away. It was a big turn-on, and he wasn't confident enough to strike up a conversation.
Thankfully, you decided to break the silence.
"What major are you in?"
"Hm?" he finally looked up, meeting your charming gaze, nearly gasping at the exchange, "Oh, yeah, um, music."
"Oh, so you want to become a singer?" you smiled when his heart-shaped lips curved up at your question, making your stomach flip around - why did he have to look so sweet.
"And you?" he asked, slowing his pace to lengthen the moment, knowing the path was ending soon. He saw the group of students interacting nearby, knowing he had to say goodbye.
"Computer Science," you shrugged, studying his surprised expression, "but it's not as hard as it seems. It's fun!"
He beamed at your excited state, continuing the conversation to make your stay a bit longer. He didn't want to miss his shot at getting to know you better because you seemed so easygoing and laid-back that he could imagine talking to you for hours.
Random questions started blabbering out of him in a hopeless attempt to impress you. Deep down, he pushed himself to ask you for your phone number.
Yet again, he wasn't that confident. Instead, he observed your features in-depth, finding his gaze focusing on your neck and prominent jawline exposed by the wind that blew in your hair. It was a sight he could fucking die to. No girl he had seen harbored such sharp features, and that just threw him off the edge. Fuck the ideal type narrative he had created because you were something else, something he had never seen before.
As he kept talking, you couldn't help but focus on his moving lips, thinking about attaching your mouth to his, poking your inner cheek with your tongue at the idea. All you wanted was to corner him into a dim place, make out and suck on his lips until they turned in a beautiful shade of plum. He slightly pouted when he talked, and he appeared so innocent.
His poking Adam's apple moved up and down after every conveyed word, not considering your mind creating sensual fantasies about sucking on it. You wanted to meet his tongue with yours, explore his mouth and feel his warmness on yours. It didn't help that he occasionally licked his lips, unintentionally riling you up. It was getting harder to stay collected, and the little pool staining your panties began expanding.
"What about you?"
"Hm?" you snapped out of your imagination, eyes landing on his again after staring somewhere else.
"Like, what are your plans?" Heeseung asked, a smile forming on his face from your gaze. He couldn't help but wonder why you were looking at him with so much lust. A tingly feeling made its appearance in his chest again, his cheeks burning.
"Oh, I'm sorry, I wasn't paying attention," you scratched the back of your head, holding yourself from attacking his lips. You hated how gorgeous he looked under the moonlight, his side profile so ethereal that you found it unreal.
"What were you paying your attention to then?" his doe eyes lit up, hoping you would say something along the lines of "you".
"I've just been trying to suppress the urge to kiss you," you spat out, biting your lip afterward. Heeseung widened his eyes at your confession, which was the last thing he expected to hear. He stared at you in shock, feeling his heart going crazy.
"Can I kiss you, please?" your body approached his, coming closer to have each other's faces inches away. The desire to consume him kept growing each second he shot you that soft gaze, completely destroying you.
He nodded, his eyes locking with yours as you held his face, pulling him to you. You dived into a passionate kiss, tilting your head to the side to deepen it. You had never craved someone's lips as much as you did Heeseung's. They were so soft and tasty that you couldn't get enough, coming back for more each time you pulled away to breathe.
"What happens if I don't attend?" he laughed, realizing you had better plans than spending the rest of the evening getting bored.
"Well, you'll just miss out on the introduction."
"OK," you nodded, "and what if you ditch your friend?"
"What?" he questioned in a soft tone, noticing your finger pointing at Chae-Won.
"Would you get in trouble if you took us somewhere private?" you smirked at the thought, grabbing his collar to fix it. He gulped at the contact, hating how nervous a random girl made him feel. Yet again, you weren't just a random girl - maybe that's why he was trying so hard not to mess this up.
He could already imagine the disappointment his teachers would experience once they encountered the volunteer carrying out his duty. A failure, that's what they would think, and they would be right. He didn't want to bail on his professors, whom he had given false hope about his feasibility.
At the same time, he knew Chae-Won would cover for him, always having his back even though he wasn't the best friend. Maybe she sent him for this reason in the first place, to give him a possibility. It was on him if he'll take advantage of it or not.
His gaze landed on the assured girl again, nodding at her offer.
"Well," you pulled a pack of cigarettes out of your pocket alongside a lighter, pulling out one to place it between your lips, positioning it in the fire, "lead the way, playboy."
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Next thing you know, you both end up in the music room, tangled up in a lustful make-out session. His hands roamed your back as you tried to nestle on the piano bench he led you to.
You double-checked if you had contraceptives in your pocket when he moved to your neck. It was your goal tonight anyway, not wanting to miss the chance to get on with someone. Plus, Heeseung was quite charming, and you couldn't help yourself.
He was a sloppy kisser, and you could tell the moment his lips met yours. It felt like he was keen on more tongue action rather than a proper build-up. Too eager for your taste, but again, he was breaking your rules quite often tonight.
Your hand played with his hair while the other moved down to his pants, reaching his boxers. He gasped when your fingers brushed over them, his member twitching from the sensitivity.
"Can I?" you broke the kiss to ensure he wasn't uncomfortable with where things were going.
Heeseung couldn't even answer, quietly whimpering under your touch. There was something so mesmerizing about his state that you just stared into his eyes, leaning for another kiss. It felt so wonderful, and you couldn't stop. He had this dazing effect on you.
"I can stop whenever you want," you whispered into his lips, running your hands on his chest, sensing his change of heartbeat.
"N-no, don't stop," he grabbed your wrist, guiding you back to his pants. You smirked at the action, grabbing his crotch to see the desired expression. And it didn't disappoint. He leaned against the piano with his eyelids slightly loose, mouth forming an O amidst panting. You haven't even started yet, and he was already losing his mind.
"God, you're so beautiful," you whispered on his neck, leaving gentle kisses. He shivered at your delicate touch, his hand traveling under your jacket to caress your back.
You massaged his length a bit to make him hard, but that didn't take long since he soon provided your hand with burning heat. It was your sign to slip your hand under his boxers, coming in contact with his erection. He hissed at the coldness of your fingers, making his member tug rapidly.
"N-n-o, you don't have to," he whispered when he realized what you were about to do, straightening his posture to grab your wrists. However, you smiled at his behavior, leaving a light peck on his cheek.
"But I want to," you voiced before landing on his zipper, gradually dragging it to access his dick. His pants ended at his knees, now having his genitals on full display. Your eyes widened at the image and his size. It drove your head dizzy, picturing it vanishing inside you.
Heeseung smiled for himself at your cute reaction, finding himself blushing for some reason. Slight embarrassment took over him as he had never been in this position before. He attempted to cover himself, but you only yanked his hands away.
"Don't hide your beauty from me, baby," his dick jerked at those words, looking away from the attention he was acquiring. You grabbed his chin to meet his gaze, smiling at his eyes sparkling with excitement. You encouraged him to spit in your hand, confusing him at first with your sudden movement.
He obeyed and spilled a pool of saliva on your palm, letting it dribble from his mouth. A curse escaped you at the sight, biting your lip as you spread it on his shaft. The wet sounds turned you on, even more, watching his face express ecstasy.
"Look at me while I take care of you, ok?" you smiled before opening your mouth to welcome his member, moaning at the wonderful feeling.
"Oh God," it sent him over the edge how you didn't break eye contact amidst running your tongue around his tip. Your face appeared so beautiful as the moonlight shone on you, exposing your dirty activity. He couldn't stop staring at you with butterflies in his stomach, observing you taking a quarter of him slowly.
The feeling he was experiencing made him dizzy because this was his first time acquiring head. He was used to giving, not receiving. His friends always talked about blowjobs and how wonderful it was. Now he finally understood why.
"Y/N," he accidentally moaned your name, shutting his eyes when you reached half his length. Your hand gently rubbed his balls, taking your time to provide the best experience.
"Does it feel good?" you began to bob your head at a calm speed, studying his facial expressions quickly altering. His abdomen was going through euphoria, and he was losing his mind.
"It does, so much," he threw back his head and gripped your free hand, intertwining his fingers with yours. You raised your eyebrows at the act, not anticipating the intimate gesture.
Normally, you would never let another boy show affection in hookups because it was unnecessary. In the end, it was about satisfying your needs, so there wasn't the need to be smoochy about it.
Nevertheless, Heeseung was caressing your hand and hair, and you couldn't say anything. He was so sweet that you wanted his affection.
"I bet it does," you expressed in a low voice, watching his brows slightly furrowing while he bit the tip of his tongue. You curved your lips up when his Adam's apple bobbed up and down, letting out such beautiful noises each time you pulled out and took him in.
"I-I'm close," his tender voice conveyed, feeling his stomach compiling his load. You sped up your movements to bring him to his high, welcoming the warm fluid on your tongue. However, you didn't stop but continued sucking, enjoying him uncontrollably jumping in your mouth.
"Fuck, oh my God, Y/N," he shut down, trembling from the stimulation you gave him. His hands were now desperately holding onto your hair, trying to control his spasms.
"You taste good," a quiet giggle echoed in the room as Heeseung stared into your eyes deeply, trying to find the right words after having the best orgasm of his life.
He noticed how you squeezed your legs together, grinding on the bench to pleasure yourself. He instantly dropped to his knees, grabbing your legs gently to spread them. You gasped when his hand slid under your vagina, his thumb playing with your vulva.
"Can I take care of you now?" he pulled down your pants, revealing your soaked panties. It was weird for you to feel this hot inside, and you found it hard to believe a boy managed to turn you on this much.
You watched as his head disappeared between your legs and panted when his breath brushed against your panties, hearing him soaking up the smell of your arousal.
"God, you smell so good," his compliment landed on your core, which he revealed by pushing your underwear to the side. He took a long lick of your pussy, groaning at the taste it left on his tongue.
Pussy-drunk would probably be the right word to describe his fixation because the next thing you know, he was making out with it. His warm tongue swirled around your bud and entrance, teasing you by trying to enter it.
Your hands automatically grabbed his hair, pushing his face even deeper to feel his nose on your clit. At this point, what was happening?
"Oh, Heeseung, please don't stop," you moaned when he moved his head up and down, rubbing you with the tip of his nose. He was so experienced, unlike the guys who have eaten you out before.
"You're beautiful," he whimpered on your folds, watching you arching your back at his technique. Everything was so fast that you didn't even realize your orgasm was shooting out, riding it out on his nose. Heeseung didn't waste any time and licked all of your cum, immaculately overstimulating you. You stopped him to catch your breath, gazing at his lips and chin smeared in your juices.
"You're so-" you switched positions, landing on his lap and going in for a deep kiss. His tongue slipped inside your mouth and transferred your liquids. At that moment, you officially lost your mind and suddenly felt needy again. How was he so dirty but sweet at the same time.
"So what?" he asked, holding your hips to guide you back and forth.
"So pretty that I want to ruin you," your words caused him to pop another boner, poking it on your core.
"Please do," he panted, intensely staring into your eyes, "I'm all yours."
"You don't know what you're asking for, baby," your lips uttered before landing on his, grabbing the condom to put it on him.
"Wait," he whispered, glancing down to avoid your stare.
"It's your first time?" you smiled at his surprised blinking, playing with his piercings. He bobbed his head, dying inside out of shame.
"Honestly, when you were eating me out, it certainly did not feel like it," the atmosphere lightened up a bit with your remark, easing the tense boy underneath you.
"I'll be gentle, ok?" you pushed a strand of hair under his beanie, grabbing his face to study his expression. Obviously, he was worried about the following, but his face still displayed enthusiasm.
That was what you were looking for, so you gently grabbed his length and started pulling the condom over it. He hissed a few times because your hands were still freaking cold, and the sensation was unknown.
"Are you ready?" your breath tickled on his ear as you put your hand on his belly, gently stroking to ease his tension. You were also nervous because you didn't want to hurt him unintentionally, and seeing him getting anxious about the act worried you. In the end, you mainly wanted him to enjoy it.
"Don't worry, I won't do anything to hurt you," he whimpered at your tenderness, mind still too anxious about the forthcoming shifting. You held his face delicately, running your thumb over his cheek. He murmured a quiet yes, watching you aligning his member to your entrance, which you revealed by pushing away your panties.
You rubbed him on your clit for a while to lubricate and give him some instigation. He was already moaning, his body quivering from the teasing. Then you pushed him in by a bit and both of you hyperventilated.
"You're practically sinking in me," you exhaled, feeling your walls tighten around him with each push. He glanced at the scene, his hand grabbing your thigh to dig in his nails. The way you talked him through it made everything better, and he felt like he was walking on clouds.
Other girls made fun of his virginity, mocking him for being inexperienced. You, however, were different and handled him with so much care despite having known each other for a few minutes.
"It's ok. You can go more."
Well, maybe he shouldn't have said it that early.
"Wait, oh shit-" the grip on your thigh deepened, pain piercing through rapidly.
"Why are you so tight?" it almost sounded like a cry, and you only chuckled at the compliment.
"I'm not used to big dicks. That's probably why," you laughed, calming the boy down with your humor.
Heeseung leaned his back against the fallboard, trying to make himself comfortable. He would have never imagined losing his V-card in the school's music room on a damn piano. At the same time, he was grateful that you were the one who was here with him. Now, he will always have a pleasant memory to think of when he'll enter this room.
"How are you feeling, bubs?" He reddened at the spontaneous nickname, noticing the twinkle in your dark eyes.
"V-very good," the words barely came out as he struggled to think correctly. The sensation you were guiding him through was something else, and he couldn't believe you managed to take his firsts twice tonight.
When you started riding him, it was over. He didn't think he could hold his load for long because you only tightened around him more. As if you read his mind, you began pushing more, putting your hands on his chest for support. He held your back and practically embraced you once he felt the familiar feeling inside him.
"Let go," you encouraged him as he shot his cum in the condom, pulling you closer to bury his face in your neck. It didn't even matter if you came in that moment because you felt too content to focus on it. You grabbed the open package and inconspicuously slid it into his pocket.
"I better get going now," with a jump, you pulled back your pants and lit another cigarette after heading out the door. You sent a wink before fleeing, leaving him dazed.
He sighed and discarded the condom, concealing it in a bunch of tissues. As he grabbed one from his pocket, he came in touch with a packaging. He pulled it out to recognize the object, raising an eyebrow. It was a phone number written on the wrapping of the condom he had used a minute ago. He grinned at the method, putting it back to catch up with Chae-won.
He saw you walking towards the ceremony as he got out of the building. You turned back to encounter his figure standing outside and delivered him a big beam on your face while signaling him to calll you later.
"You can bet on it."
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oliversrarebooks · 8 months
Text
The Rare Bookseller Part 25: Fitz's Magic Show
Masterlist
June 1905
TW: mind control, kidnapping, hypnotic language
Cards were moving smoothly, flowing from hand to hand like they were made of water, with a practiced ease that made it seem effortless -- much like Fitz's charming grin. The crowd was never as large as he'd like, at least for now, but they were watching, enraptured, glued to every small movement and every syllable of his patter.
When he was in his element like this, soaking up the attention, it made everything seem worth it.
"...and the queen of spades is in this hand, right? Who thinks the queen of spades is in this hand?" He showed an empty hand. "Does anyone want to guess where the queen of spades is? In my nose, you say? Sir --" He stopped shuffling and crossed his arms with a mock glare. "Sir, do you normally keep playing cards in your nose?" The crowd chuckled. "Of course, that's not where the queen of spades is. Here she is, in my sock! I'm glad I found her before she ended up in my laundry."
As he did simple tricks, he was scanning the crowd for a good volunteer for his showstopper finale, his eyes lighting on a woman in the front row. She had a simple blue dress and mouse-brown hair, looking almost like she'd blown in from a farm, with an innocent expression, and she'd been watching Fitz with an enraptured expression the entire show.
"Now, for my next few tricks, can I have a volunteer?" He flashed his smile at the woman, and was vindicated when her hand shot up. "How about this young woman in the front? Yes, you, come on up." He held out his hand to help her up the front steps of the stage, her grip surprisingly strong and her hand freezing cold. "Now, what's your name?"
"Lily."
"Lily, a lovely name for a lovely lady. Let's all give a big round of applause to our lovely Miss Lily!" 
Lily giggled. "Are you trying to charm me?"
"Well, that depends. Is it working?" he asked. Truthfully, women like Lily weren't his type. Women weren't his type at all -- yet another in the long list of reasons why he'd left his family behind to pursue his own ambitions. The money, the status, all that had been nothing more than a gilded cage jam packed with stifling expectations. Here, on the stage, where he wasn't Fitzwilliam de Hastings but The Phantom Fitz, he was free.
The young woman was eating from the palm of his hand as he had her choose a card and pretended to forget which one it was or where he had put it. "You know, Lily, confidentially, sometimes I only find my assistant's card in my icebox the next day," he stage whispered to her. "But this time, I think I know where it is. No, not in your nose. I believe it's caught in your hair." He reached around her flowery accessory, using it to conceal the motion of snapping a card out of his sleeve.
"Is this your card, Miss Lily?" he asked. 
"Yes, it is!" she said, but her smile had changed somehow, in a way that he couldn't quite put his finger on. Well, as long as she was still playing along...
"Well, hopefully I've earned your trust with that display of my abilities, because I'd like for you to participate in my final trick of the evening." He gestured to the box in the back of the set, one he'd painstakingly constructed from memories of similar tricks he'd witnessed, one he'd painted himself in deep blue with glittering constellations. "If you wouldn't mind stepping into this box, I promise that no harm will come to you, and the audience will get to witness something amazing."
"Trying to make me disappear?" she asked with a wink.
"Nothing escapes you, Miss Lily," he said. 
"...That is very true."
He stopped for a moment, perplexed, before resuming his spiel. "You won't be gone for more than a moment. You have my word -- I swear upon my dear departed childhood kitten's grave." He closed the door with a dramatic flourish and turned to the crowd. "Please, no one tell her that I don't remember where my beloved little Mittens is buried." 
He spun the box to a side that looked identical to the one that had been facing the audience, and opened it up to the false back. A dead simple trick, and not at all difficult to figure out, but with the right atmosphere, the dim gas lighting, and the patter, he could still get a reaction from the audience -- and tonight was no different. "Unfortunately, I seem to have misplaced Miss Lily! I certainly hope I don't find her in the icebox the next day. Or in someone's nose!"
The crowd laughed, and Fitz beamed. Simple tricks and corny humor, but it paid the bills. He was right where he belonged, and his star could only climb higher from here. Soon, he'd move up the ranks to become a headliner, take his act on the road, go wherever the wind took him as the money poured in. 
-------
The cape was flung haphazardly in a corner, the thickest of the stage makeup wiped roughly from his face, his props scattered across his dressing room table. Another successful show.
Fitz was rubbing at his exhausted eyes and wondering what he should do to round up some food when there was a firm knock on the door. He hoped it wasn't the theater manager with some petty complaint yet again. "Come in," he called.
He wasn't terribly surprised to see Lily's head peek in. It wasn't the first time members of the audience snuck backstage. Judging by the fact that she was alone, she must've gotten the wrong impression from his flirting. He'd kindly dispel any misunderstandings and send her on her way, simple enough.
"Miss Lily!" he said, his stage persona snapping back in place. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"
"I wanted to let you know that I very much enjoyed being a part of your act this evening," she said. That was that strange smile again, the one he found so disconcerting but couldn't place. "I confess that I'm a bit of an amateur magician myself, so it was nice to see your sleight-of-hand up close. You're very talented."
"Why, thank you," said Fitz with a huge grin, unable to stop himself from eating up the flattery. He could always turn her away in a moment, when she was done complimenting him.
"I've been working on some magic tricks myself, if you wouldn't mind taking a look? I'd love to get some pointers."
"I'm always happy to help a fellow illusionist with their trade. Let's see what you have."
"All right," she said, unfurling a chain with a beautiful teardrop-shaped ruby on the end of it. "This pendant is an old family heirloom of mine, and I don't want anything to happen to it, so I'll need you to watch it carefully to make sure it doesn't disappear." She began slipping the chain through her fingers, swaying the pendant back and forth as she fluidly passed it from hand to hand. Her deft fingers were mesmerizing to watch, gentle and rhythmic. "Keep focused on the pendant, please."
She didn't need to remind Fitz, who couldn't take his eyes off it. Her speed and grace were top-notch, her talent for sleight of hand easily surpassing his. She seemed to have a knack for making the ruby sparkle in the most alluring way with every pass.
"That's right, just keep looking, just keep focusing, or you'll miss the trick," she said. "Keep watching the ruby as it sparkles and shines, stealing your attention away from everything else. Focus, don't look away. Focus and listen, Fitz, focus and listen."
Her voice was good for patter too, with a mesmerizing quality that was so easy to listen to. A natural.
"You've been working so hard up there on the stage. You must be tired. It must be so nice to just focus on my simple little trick. Easy. Compelling. Relaxing. No need to think, only to watch, and listen. Watch and listen. Isn't it nice?"
"Yeah..." he murmured, leaning forward. "You're good at the... the..."
"Oh, I know. Almost as good as you," she said confidently. "Just keep focusing, watching the ruby... have you figured out the trick yet?"
"The trick?" he said hazily. "You're going to make the pendant disappear?" He must be tired. He felt so sluggish.
"It's not the pendant that's going to disappear," she said. "But oh, that's right, silly me. The trick only happens after you're asleep."
"Asleep?"
"Aren't you tired?" she pressed, the ruby glinting in the gas light. "Aren't your eyelids heavy? Aren't you getting sleepier and sleepier?"
"Sleepier... mmm." A warning bell sounded in the back of his mind. She was trying to pull something over on him. With difficulty, he managed to tear his eyes away from the pendant. He looked up at Lily and realized what it was he had been trying to identify in her smile. Her demeanor had been so disarming that he hadn't realized how confident and predatory it was.
Nor had he noticed the hint of sharp fangs.
He recoiled as his mind tried to catch up with what he was seeing. She was...
With great effort, he lifted his strangely heavy arm, feeling as if he was moving in a dream, and caught the pendant. "You're trying to mesmerize me," he said, trying to wipe the cobwebs from his mind and restore his usual cocky smile. He must have been imagining what he had just seen. "That's the trick here. Clever, and you aren't half bad at it."
Her delighted laugh rang off the walls. "Guess you're too strong willed for something like that, Phantom Fitz."
"Guess I am," he said, although he was surprised by how much she'd taken him in. "Your technique is excellent, though. You're practiced with your hands."
"I have had a lot of practice," she agreed. "But now that you've seen my trick, care for a bit of a gamble?"
His smile came easily now. "Always."
"Five more minutes of watching the pendant and following my instructions. No tricks, no trying to break free." She reached into her purse and produced a crisp five dollar bill. "If you can avoid falling under my spell, you win."
Fitz was as transfixed by the money as he was by the ruby. Five dollars was more than he made for an entire show. That extra money would really help him stave off bills and debt collectors and the ache of his stomach. 
"And how will we determine if I've fallen under your spell?"
"I'll have to get you to do something you wouldn't normally do. Like, for example -- I'll get you to call me 'Your Majesty.'"
"Ha! I'll take that bet," he said. "Do your worst, mesmerist."
He didn't have five dollars on him, of course. He had barely a quarter to his name. But she didn't need to know that, because there was no way he was going to lose this bet. Sure, she had him dazed when he didn't realize what was happening, but now that he was on to her, that money was bound to be his. He could already taste the steak he was going to treat himself to if he won it.
"All right then. Five minutes, Fitz." She unfurled the ruby in front of his eyes once more. "And all you need to do is focus on the pendant and listen to my voice, and the money will be yours."
She began to swing the ruby in a slow, sweeping motion, perfectly rhythmic, easy to follow with his eyes.
"Focus," she said, and Fitz could immediately tell there was something different about the way her voice echoed in his mind. "Relax and focus. Watch the ruby. Watch it go back and forth. Watch it shine. Utterly focused on its movements. Utterly focused on my voice."
This was different from before. He could feel his mind slip, his gaze narrowing on the pendant. A little voice in the back of his head was nagging at him, but he was an old hand at quieting his own better sense, especially when money was on the line. He stubbornly kept watching.
"Good, Fitz, very good," she said, her voice like honey poured into a cup of soothing tea. "Keep watching. Keep watching even though you're so tired. So drowsy. So sleepy. Stay focused, even though the slow swing of the ruby is making you sleepier and sleepier. Drowsy. Heavy. And focused."
His eyelids blinked, so heavy, as he kept watching. He must be so close to getting that money. It must be halfway over at least. So close...
"Sleepier and sleepier with every swing. More and more mesmerized. More and more focused. Your eyelids are getting heavy, Fitz, so heavy and drowsy, but you can keep them open. You have to keep them open and keep watching the pendant, just like you said, or you'll lose the bet, Fitz."
That's right. He had said he'd watch the pendant and listen to her instructions for five minutes. He had to do that. Had to keep watching. Had to keep listening.
"You're so sleepy, Fitz, so sleepy. You need to keep watching, but it's so hard when you're this tired. Your eyes want to close so badly. You want to sleep, don't you?"
"...No," he said, with considerable effort. "I want to keep watching so I can win."
"Of course you do," she said. "You want to keep watching, even though the pendant is putting you to sleep, fast asleep. Only a few minutes more, and you'll have won the bet and can go to sleep. Only a few minutes of trying to keep your heavy, sleepy, drowsy eyes open. Only a few minutes of being so dazed and helpless and vulnerable..."
Yes, only a few minutes. He felt his eyes drift shut for just a moment, before he caught himself and wrenched them open again, his gaze fixed on the pendant once more. 
"Soon you can stop watching and rest. I'll give you your money and take good care of you. Just watch the pendant and let it sink you down into hypnotic sleep." With her free hand, she ruffled his hair affectionately. "You're doing so, so well. You're perfect, Fitz." 
He smiled drowsily, soaking up the praise and the comforting touch. He'd been struggling so long, ever since he'd run away from his family as a teen. Working questionable jobs, going hungry, scraping by on his wits and charm. God, it'd be so nice to be taken care of for a change. To drop the many layers of personas and guards he habitually carried and relax. It'd be so nice to rest...
"You've about to win, Fitz," she said, her voice low and so near to his ear. "You can shut your eyes now. Shut your eyes and go to sleep. Deep, restful sleep. Everything is going to be just fine."
His head tipped forward as his eyes closed all on their own, impossibly heavy, as a warm sense of peace settled over him.  
"Go to sleep, Fitz, just go to sleep, nice, deep sleep," she soothed. "Let me put you to sleep and take care of you. I'm going to take such good care of you. All you have to do is sleep, and don't wake until I tell you to. All you have to do is drift off into blissful dreams."
Fitz didn't answer. His mind was already gone.
Part 24 >> Masterlist >> Part 26
Thank you for reading this interlude about another man who was doomed.
Five dollars was more like $175 then.
@d-cs @latenightcupsofcoffee @thecyrulik @dismemberment-on-a-tuesday-night @wanderinggoblin @whumpyourdamnpears @only-shadows-dwell-where-we-are @pressedpenn @pigeonwhumps @amusedmuralist @snakebites-and-ink @xx-adam-xx @ivycloak @irregular-book @whumpsoda @mj-or-say10 @pokemaniacgemini @whumpshaped @whumpsday @morning-star-whump @shinyotachi @silly-scroimblo-skrunkl @steh-lar-uh-nuhs @pirefyrelight @theauthorintraining-blog
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natriae · 1 year
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chapter 7
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masterlist
1.1k words
short one but the plot really gets shaked up
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Running to the school you at least made it on time to pick up Isamu, and had enough time to compose yourself before he could tell you ran. The little boy ran out of the school and hugged his mother in joy. "how about go to the park," you said to the little boy.
"yes please," Isamu responded, he always used his manners, and you were glad your teaching has stuck with him.
Several blocks away Sakusa began following the direction Tendou and Ushijima went. When he finally caught up to them he shouted, "Ushijima!". His face was more sour than usual, and he was going to make it a problem for everyone. Sakusa walked up closer to the two men, and all friendship they had was lost. They turned around at the voice of a familiar man, but the voice was harsher then they've ever heard it. Getting closer to Ushijima, Sakusa held his head up high and stated, "you will stay away from y/n and her son, okay" He pointed his finger at the larger man's wide chest. He was serious about this whole thing. "don't contact her, and definitely don't get in touch with her son," Sakusa finished, "do you understand?" He wouldn't let Ushijima have her again. He hated having to lie directly to her face, but if it would keep her away from other men then he'll do it.
Both Ushijima and Tendou were taken back by Sakusa's statements. Tendou had to double check to make sure Sakusa knew who he was talking to. His eyebrows scrunched and he looked around the small plaza they were in. Taking a step forward, Tendou was about to put Sakusa in his place, whenUshijima put his arm out to stop Tendou from doing any harm. He knew his friend was just trying to be supportive and stick up for him, but he could defend himself. He lost y/n once he won't let it again. He would take every beating that came his way if it meant he would get to have you again. He's put in so much work, and he wants to prove that he's changed. Not moving from his spot, Ushijima rolled his shoulders back and asked Sakusa the most important question in his mind. "Is he your son?" He needed to know. Who does he have to compete with for your love? It's all he cared about since he was 19 years old.
Sakusa scoffed at his question. He looked around making sure it was real, and that Ushijima was seriously asking him that question. Ushijima's arms were crossed and his eyes squinted a little making sure he didn't miss any twitch in Sakusa's face. Sakusa couldn't help, but laugh at the man's actions. "You really don't know, do you?" Sakusa said with a smirk. He watched Ushijima remain unmoving. He scoffed again, sticking his tongue to the side of his cheek. " God you're a fucking idiot… guess somethings never change, huh" Sakusa said to bite at the larger man. "that's your fucking son, dumbass!" Sakusa said, shouting at Ushijima.
Tendou looked at Ushijima, apologetically. That's when Sakusa realized that everyone knew except the man himself. "You had no right to tell him that," Tendou stated in a sharp tone, shaking his head, "Ushijima let's go," Tendou said, grabbing Ushijima's bicep. Sakusa kept his smug face, and Ushijima took a deep breath to contain his emotions, and remained unmoving.
"You can beat me up. Degrade me all you want, but you can't tell me what to do. I'm going to keep pursuing Y/N," Ushijima kept his composure and said his statement in a confident voice. He didn't need to say much more, he knew he got his point across when Sakusa's smirk fell off his face.
Yet Sakusa tried to add more fuel to the fire and added, "she's gonna leave you. No matter how hard you try you'll just be the boy who fucked her and then abandoned her for a sport. She hasn't forgotten Ushijima," he finished. Ushijma walked away with Tendou to prove his point that he's not giving up. He didn't need to yell to get his point across. His mom always told him actions speak louder then words and that's exactly what he'll do. The whole walk back to his apartment Ushijima thought about messaging you to get the full truth. Hopefully that's still your number. Even if that was his kid, why would you hide him from him?
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You Isa were now at the park, both on the swing set. You were stuck in your thoughts moving back and forth on the swing while Isa was swinging high. "Isa baby today I went to a really good Onigiri shop. When I get my paycheck I'll take you. How does that sound," you said, sounding hopeful about the future. Completely unknown to what was happening across town. Isa began to stop himself from swinging by stomping on the red patterned ground below the swing.
"That sounds fun," Isa said, you stopped yourself from adding to the conversation seeing that the boy was lost in his thoughts. "Momma," Isa said, looking at the ground. He seemed hesitant with his next words, "what did Atsumu mean when he called you Ushijima's girl?" he said. His eyebrows were scrunched together in thought, and it was obvious he was trying to find the answer out himself. Has he been thinking about this all week?
"Well, when I was in highschool I actually dated Ushijima… that's it wasn't a big deal," yes it was you thought you'd marry him.
"did you love him," he asked. He was quiet with it like it was a taboo topic.
"yeah, yeah i did love him," you said nodding your head. Still do for some reason. As hard as it was to indulge in these conversations it was nice to have these harder conversations with your son.
"why did you break up" he asked. His head was tilted waiting for your answer.
"it's adult stuff. I'll tell you when your older. It's nothing a little boy like you should know," you said leaning over and cupping his face. He nodded his head once just like his father, and didn't ask any further questions.
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Once the two of you got home, ate dinner, and got ready for bed you were left in the same position as you were before. staring at Ushijima's contact except this time you were actually thinking of things to say. For 5 mins you've been sitting here typing and typing till you settled on a small 'hey, it's y/n' However before you could hit send the green haired man had sent you a message
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fuck your life.
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tags: @mineta-phobic @rukia-uchiha-98 @ssc7514 @megumuro
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darkwaveho · 2 years
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Favors
Summary: If someone would've told Wanda that asking for a simple favor could be so damaging, she would've never asked for it.
Pairings: Stoner!Wanda Maximoff x reader
A/n: Ok this part is finally here!!! thank you to everybody who stayed patient with me on getting this out and to anyone who's giving me feedback and kind words on this series. It wasn't supposed to last this long but I got carried away, lol with that being said this is the last part for Favors and happy reading <3 (Also, not proofread.)
Part 11 Series masterlist
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Waking up from the effects of yet a late night you groan as you leave your bed. Your week has been somewhat peaceful, you haven't been stalked, harassed or the victim of a good guilt trip lately, but you were still hurting from what happened, you couldn't think of anything other than always trusting your first instincts. If you trusted your first instincts none of this would be pulling at your heart strings.
You would've never dated Wanda Maximoff, you never would've physically fought your best friend Kate and You haven't seen Wanda; you've been avoiding Kate and surprisingly you've been avoiding Natasha as well. She promised she wouldn't lie to you and yet she still lied and tried to cover for Wanda after you saw her with Jean at the frat party. Seems like everyone was lying to you and keeping things from you.
Walking out of your room you couldn't ignore the smell of breakfast filling your nose. What you didn't expect to see was Kate in the common area. "What the hell are you doing here?" You cross your arms over your chest. Kate was obviously nervous from seeing you, it's been a week since the last time you've even looked at her let alone talked to her.
"I- just" Yelena appears before she can say anything, she doesn't look annoyed or upset as to why Kate is here because she let her in. She's been talking to Kate since the party to get an understanding of her point of view and what she was going through when this went down. Yelena had to realize that Kate was also a victim in this situation.
“Y/n, I love you, I do but you two need to talk this out.” Yelena walks into the room and points to the small sofa that Kate was sitting on. three trays of breakfast sat on the mini table. Yelena was determined to fix this; she'd be damned if she let Wanda permanently ruin this friendship, she's made with you and Kate. No one says a word after that, everyone seated here was too stubborn, and too anxious to say anything right now, or so you thought when Kate is actually the first person to speak up after the awkward silence and pointed stares.
“I’m sorry.” Kate says the apology before you could even get a word out. “Why did you do it?” she swallows the lump in her throat and nervously picks at the skin on her fingers. “I- she’s very intimidating and she threatened to stop supplying me with the Xan’s and the weed if I didn’t help her, she said I would have to get them from Rumlow.” 
“You’re gonna have to talk to someone about your drug dependency and maybe talk to someone about your anxiety and stress as well.” She nods her head in understanding, this wasn’t to put shame on her because you knew from first-hand how hard and stressful academic praise and approval can be. You did this because you truly care about her and don't want her ending up in the wrong hands, and she genuinely hurt you. “As much as I hate to say it, luckily it was just Wanda wanting to pursue me and not someone else trying to do anything worse than that.” What hurt you the most was just how willingly she was to give things up about you. it doesn't matter if it was a class schedule or where you hung out at. It was the principle.
“I wouldn’t have done it if it was anything more than a date set up or just giving details about you.”
“You don’t know that Kate, things change when the need for drugs are involved. It depends on your desperation and need for them, and you were clearly desperate and in need for them when Wanda asked you to do what you did.”
"Okay, I’ll find a campus support group.” She holds your hand firmly. “I’m sorry for hurting you. I’ll never do it again, you’re my best friend.” You remove her hand from yours and Kate instantly wants to curl into a ball right here and now until you lurch forward bringing her into a hug. “Never let anyone take advantage of you like that again Kate.” She squeezes you back in the tight embrace. “I promise I won’t. So, you forgive me?” You pull away from the hug and pretend to think about it.
“I’ll forgive you but it’s gonna take more to earn my trust again. I want to see progress. I want to see changes in your actions Kate.”
“No problem.” She anxiously studies your face, would it be too soon? Did you trust her enough for a hug or would she be treated like a stranger on the street? Too afraid of the rejection she keeps her hands clenched into the fabric of the small sofa which Yelena quickly takes note of.
“Aww finally you guys made up, c’mon group hug.” Yelena sandwiches herself between you and Kate. “Ah, Yelena, you’re really squeezing me to death here.”
“Hm, good, because if you ever do anything like that again, I’ll kill you.” Yelena was put into a compromising position from this whole thing. She really didn’t appreciate the divide and shift of her friendship. She could forgive Kate, but Wanda would remain on her list. “You’re funny Yelena.”
“She’s not kidding Kate.” You knew when Yelena was joking and now as not that time, she meant it. She chuckles nervously and wide eyes look up to the angry blonde’s. “You were kidding, right Lena?”
“No, no I actually wasn’t.” Her emotions nonexistent, face blank and cold. She meant it. The uncomfortable silence doesn’t stay for long when the knock at the door interrupts the somewhat happy reunion. She doesn’t even bother to say a greeting once she pushes past the threshold of the door. “Uh- yeah come right in.” You motion with your hands sarcastically.
“I haven’t seen her; she hasn’t been home in three days, y/n I’m worried.” Yelena and Kate watch the red head with worried eyes. Wanda was missing and you were barely showing any type of reaction to the news, at least on the outside. Yelena parts her lips to say something but her sister stops her before she can. "Yelena if you're gonna say anything right now, don't, Wanda is my friend, so if you don't have anything useful to say to help find her then keep your damn mouth shut!" She didn't really mean to snap at her sister but she wasn't in the mood to hear petty remarks from her when her Best friend could be in danger right now. "I wasn't gonna say anything." Yelena mumbles under her breath
“No, I haven’t seen her Nat try asking Pietro, maybe he knows where she is.” you put up a good front to anyone else but not in front of Natasha she can see the concern in your eyes. “I checked already, and he hasn't seen her. Pietro is out looking for her right now as well, come on let’s go check some of her main spots.” Natasha walks out the door opening it and stops when she’s halfway out of the door. noticing she didn’t hear any footsteps behind her. You walk towards the door leaning on the doorway. “That’s not my problem.” you don’t get to close the door on Natasha as her foot stops it keeping the wooden door in place, you had no idea just how strong she was.
“Cut the shit you still care about her. You’ve cared about her since before you two got together so please stop wasting time, put your goddamn shoes on and help me find her, please.” Without another word you grabbed a jacket and put your shoes on. The car ride was silent for the most part until Natasha finally spoke up after unsubtly turning to you every now and then during a red light. "That night, what you saw wasn't what it looked like." Your face remains turned towards the window, the tint bringing a different contrast to gloomy morning. "No? so, I just made it up in my own head, hm?"
"No."
"So, you're telling me that I didn't see my girlfriend with her pants pooled down at her ankles in a closet with her old fuck toy?"
"You're not listening, y/n"
"No, I'm listening just fine, you're the one that seem to be creating a different narrative to save your friend from her actions!"
"It wasn't consensual!" Natasha had a short temper it was honestly amazing how long she held off on raising her voice with you. the word instantly changes the tone in the car. One word made you feel like shit, made you feel sick and ashamed for how you handle things and not let Wanda explain herself that night.
Anger courses through your body from the new given information. "What?" your voice comes out barely above a whisper, the air was truly knocked out of you. "Jean, snuck her way into Scott's room after I left. I walked Wanda up there to sober up so she could have a clear mind when she talked to you about fixing things. What you walked in on was a set up. She was up there waiting for you; Jean wasn't on her mind at all. I guess I should take part in blame for not staying with her until you showed up, but I've seen her more wasted than that and she was fine." Natasha sets her jaw in frustration and puts all her energy on focusing on the road.
"She didn't cheat on me." you repeat the sentence a few times until you grow angry with yourself. Wanda didn't cheat on you, but you technically did, when you kissed daisy. Natasha takes a glance at you and sees you accepting her words as the truth. "Listen don't blame yourself for anything, Jean was being a disgusting bitter bitch, you couldn't have known what was truly going on up there." That doesn't make you feel better that doesn't make you feel better at all for some reason, because, yes, you had every right to break things off with her after seeing her like that and your actions were justified, at the end of the day everything came back to Wanda and her actions. Her lies and deceit caught up to her and you just couldn't wait around to hear another lie fall from her addicting lips. Noticing the anger and shame Natasha showed in her eyes you reach for her abandoned hand and give her a reassuring squeeze. “Don’t blame yourself for what happened either, that night was just a total disaster for everyone.” She briefly tears her eyes away from the road to look at your linked fingers and she sends a small smile to you in appreciation.
“Thanks.” The word comes out small and vulnerable and she retreats her hand from yours after swallowing the lump in her throat and focuses her eyes back to the road. “Everything will continue to be disastrous unless we find Wanda. I just don’t have any idea where she could be and if something happens to her, I’d never be able to forgive myself.”
“We’ll find her Nat.”
“I don’t know y/n, she rarely goes anywhere other than the places we’ve checked already.” You zone out for a moment as the thought finally comes to you. The words come out in a mumbled whisper. “Places that you’ve been to.” Natasha can clearly hear you; she looks to the road with curiosity waiting for you to fill her in on the information you haven’t shared with her yet. "What are you doing?" Natasha eyes you curiously as you touch the keypad to her navigation system.
"I think I might know where she is."
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As Natasha pulled up to the sketchy building, she side eyes you, asking if you were joking with her and if you were being serious about finding her best friend. This was the only place you could think of where she might be. It wasn’t a long shot since you’ve been here before with her many times within the small span of your relationship. Natasha was only looking at the outside of the building but once she entered the inside, she’d understand what this was and what this meant to Wanda, she has to be here. As you walk inside the building Natasha was still cautious of the appearance that the building was in, Wanda had more than enough money for her to be somewhere downtown instead of this cheap broken-down building nothing made sense. You finally stop in front of a door, the rusted metal plated number on the outside hanging by its last screw. You brace yourself for what you would find behind this door or what you wouldn’t find behind this door. The many possibilities roam your mind, and you get lost in them. Natasha has to bring you back by placing. A hand on your shoulder. “Hey, you alright?” You shake your head of the intrusive thoughts. “Yeah.”
“So, what’s all this? Where are we?”
“This is where Wanda does her art, and behind this door is her art studio.” Natasha hums in understanding Natasha and Wanda told each other everything, so of course Natasha knew Wanda had an art studio, but she never expected it to be somewhere like this let alone in this condition. “Hm, okay so let’s find out who’s in charge here to let us in.” You grab her before she storms off and you remove your hand from your jacket pocket. “You don’t have to do that.” Natasha pinches her brows together at your response until you planting the small metal key into her eye level. Wanda had given you a key. She had given you a key to the one place she found solitude and peace. Natasha smiles in response to the growth of her best friend. She was truly proud of her knowing this was all new territory to her, this was a huge deal.
“I hope she’s here.” You place the key into the socket and pushed the door open. You had a good feeling about this, this would be the last resort until you needed to go to the police and get them involved, and you really hoped it wouldn’t come to that. You’d be heartbroken if she remained missing and not have the chance to have a final conversation with each other. Even if you two don’t fix things, you’d never wish ill will on her. Your thoughts were right, you weren't prepared for what you saw behind the now opened door. her place of creativity now trashed and disheveled compared to the many times you've seen it. you and Natasha both rush into the room avoiding the gut feeling that something truly was going to leave you both in tears after searching for her in this room any further.
The more you move forward into this room the more you feel sick to your stomach. From the splatters of what you hoped to be red paint trail on the floor, the broken glass, and torn off pieces of paper all littered across the floor of this room. it isn't until you spot a half empty bottle of vodka surrounded by other empty bottles that you rush over to the area, Natasha quickly follows behind you after texting Pietro about the state of Wanda's art studio. What you find on the other side of the couch was an unconscious Wanda, no doubt drunk beyond her limits because once again she wasn't a drinker, she was a stoner. it's only been a few days and the amount of bottles that littered her floor range bells in your mind about the possibility of alcohol poisoning. You didn't recognize this person laying beneath you, this wasn't your Wanda. All previous radiant hues of color that glowed from her face and skin now gone and gloomy. "W-Wanda" The words finally push through your constricted airways, you found it difficult to breathe right now. Natasha finally rounds the couch next you as she hears your broken words and her best friend's name.
“Shit! Wanda, Hey wake up,” She drops to her knees lightly slapping Wanda's face after shaking her did nothing to change the limp and unconscious state she was in right now. in a panicked moment you use your surroundings and spot a water bottle, quickly grabbing it and throwing the liquid on to Wand's face, she gasps from the contact, it wasn't a freezing cold water, but it was enough to bring her back to life. Her eyes are still squinted not fully opening them, yet she groans from the feeling of being moved. “Don’t just stand there help me get her up.” You move to help Natasha stand Wanda up against the brick wall. It takes Wanda a moment to get used to her surrounding again, the pounding in her head and the effects of alcohol are still very much present on her but she still cranes her neck to the person she saw first.
“Hi Natty, you missed me? I thought about coming home but” She gasps with as much excitement as she can muster up in her drowsy inebriated state. “Princess! You came back for me?” She used all of her strength she had left to throw herself into your arms.
“I’m here because Natasha was worried.” You have to turn your face to shield your nose from the strong smell of liquor that trailed from her breath.
“Oh.” She doesn’t stay on the subject long quickly moving on to the next thing that popped up into her dazed and fuzzy brain. “Sorry about the mess I was trying to finish something to bring it to you, but I couldn’t get your face right, so I started adding your favorite color then I remembered you said you didn’t have and then I used all the colors. which wasn’t a very good idea, then I ended up with that.” She shrugs her shoulders and leans her head back onto the bricks when she’s done with her mini rant.
Natasha saves this moment of awkward silence with something to help Wanda's inebriated state. “C’mon let’s get some food and water in you to sober up.” Natasha almost has to pry Wanda's hands away from you, but since she was drunk it didn't take much to pull her away and help seat her at the small working table. Uber eats would just have to do for now because Natasha didn't trust herself to leave you here with Wanda alone. So, she found something that was in the area and didn't take long to be delivered. The more she sat there and sobered up the more she remembers. She specifically remembers your tongue being shoved down Daisy’s throat. How you thought she moved on so quickly from you. You didn’t let her explain you didn’t even want to hear her out hear her side of things. No, you immediately jumped on to Daisy just to piss her off. You see the switch in her mood now from drowsy and annoyed to now anger and jealousy. Wanda stares a burning hole of hatred into you the more the images play in her mind. 
“You have something you want to say?” You weren't going to walk around on eggshells around her. you weren't going to let her intimidate you like she did everyone else. You weren't looking for a fight, but you also didn't want to be around her this soon and if Natasha hadn't practically dragged you out of your dorm, you're certain you wouldn't be anywhere near her.
“You enjoy whoring yourself out last week?” The words grit through her teeth, her voice octaves dropped dangerously low and yet she had teary eyes. The slight growl and bite to her voice should've been a warning for you to just walk away but you couldn't do that. you couldn't let her call you out of your name when this whole thing started because of her not getting her way.
“Excuse you?” 
“You heard me!” Her hands slam on top of the counter. Natasha steps in to ease the tension. She pulls Wanda into her side and leans in to harshly but quietly whisper into her ear. “Wanda, calm down, this is not how you’re going to get her back.” Wanda shoves Natasha away from her as much as she can while still dealing with the aftereffects of alcohol. "I don't care about that right now, clearly she didn't care to let me explain things! She took the first chance she got to get with Daisy."
"You're right! I didn't care about how you felt in that moment. I didn't care how you felt after seeing you with your ex, but you can't call me a whore when I saw what I saw in that closet, you aren't a very creditable and trustworthy person, why would I want to listen to anything that came out of your mouth that night? I couldn't even look at you, you made me sick." Natasha inserts herself into the conversation once more but this time she addresses you and tries calming this situation down before it gets even more heated. She wanted things resolved now that she knew Wanda was okay, and this was the chance to make up for the ruined reunion at the frat party. "Clearly you two need to talk things out, so I'm just gonna make myself useful in the back and finger paint or something." She walks away from the two of you not waiting on a reply.
“You kissed her in my fucking face!” She paces back and forth. “We didn’t breakup, Y/n you said you needed space and time to think on things. You lied!” 
“I lied? You lied! You’ve been lying and untrustworthy this whole fucking time Wanda! I literally saw you in the same position as the last time we were at a party. Do you have any idea how that made me feel? How that makes me feel? Seeing you with your pants around your ankles and Jean-“ You couldn’t even finish the words; this was upsetting you the more you talked about it. You finally had Wanda and you lost her the same way you did a year ago. To Jean. “Look at me.” 
“Look at me please. I didn’t fucking touch her I swear. You know I would never cheat on you; you know.” And that's when you remember the conversation that took place in Natasha's car before arriving here. "Natasha told me about what really happened that night, had I known what was happening I never would've- I never." Wanda shakes her head in dismissal, cautiously holding your hands in hers. The spark sensation she feels from the touch of your soft skin makes it seem like it's been longer than a few days. "It's okay, you didn't know." Wanda takes this moment of sincerity and vulnerability to lean in closer, tears pooled in her eyes once again, needing the comfort and reassurance of reconciliation.
Feeling the heat and the comfort of Wanda being near you after her vacant presence had you turning to mush, you needed to get back on track, back to why you came here in the first place. You shift your eyes away from her. “Nat just wanted to know where you were and that you were safe, and it looks like your fine to me, so I’m just gonna go.” That was a lie, you could clearly tell she wasn't fine, she wasn't dead, but she was not fine. If only you knew just how dead she was on the inside. You remove your hand from Wanda's after clearing your throat. The small simple touch had you on the edge of bringing your walls down completely. "W-what? you're leaving? Even after you found out that it was Jean's fault. You're still running away from me?" Even though what happened at the party wasn't her fault you couldn't help feeling the dreaded pain of the images in your brain. There would always be a sense of insecurity within you and this relationship.
"Just because I was willing to hear you out at the party doesn't mean I was going to take you back Wanda. Yes, seeing you with Jean that night played a part in me making that final decision, but it ultimately comes back to you, and what you did. Don't try putting all the blame on Jean." After removing your hand from Wanda's, you brush past her, heading for the door of her studio. "And I'm not running away from you. I just can't do this, it's too much."
“No” She steps in front of you pressing her body against the door. “I don’t have time for this Maximoff, move.” She sets her jaw and barrows her eyes at you more determined and confident in her stance. “You’re not leaving until we work this out.” Her voice comes out as firm as she possibly can, hints of her voice wavering and breaking were evident, she was barely holding it together.
“How? How could we possibly work this out when I can’t even fucking trust you?” Wanda flinches and clenches her eyes shut from the volume of your voice and the harshness of your words; she still makes no effort to answer the number one question. “That’s what I thought.” You shove her from the door walking out of it to the common area where Natasha was. She furrows her brows as she watched the scene unfold in front of her waiting nearby just in case things got out of hand but far enough away to sill give you guys a sense of privacy. She's not happy at all about this happening, you both were clearing hurting and in pain. 
“I’m sorry!” You don’t look back at her as you set in on your destination. “You’ve said that already.” You wipe your tears as you turn to Natasha's awaiting figure in the back of the room near Wanda's older paint pieces. “I’m leaving, I already called for an Uber, and I’ll be waiting outside.” Confusion struck Natasha at your words; you would rather pay for an uber than to be near Wanda right now. "You don't have to call an uber, y/n I can take you back to your dorm the same way I picked you up."
"No, Natasha, it's fine I'd rather be alone right now all of this is just too much to deal with." Natasha doesn't put up a fight, respectfully accepting your wishes but Wanda wasn't having it, she'd fight until there was no more fight left in her and even then, she'd find a way to keep going. Wanda grabs your hand to halt you as you were walking towards the door.
“I’ll stop selling!” When you stop, she releases a breath and go further into details. 
“I’ll stop selling drugs.” Very noble of her to stop doing that for you, but you didn’t want her struggling to keep up with the things she already had before you two got together, especially since her father wouldn’t pay for anything because of her choice of being an art major. 
“I can’t ask you to do that for me.” 
“I want to, if that brings you back to me than I’ll do it. I’ll stop selling, I have enough saved up to pay for the majority of my tuition. I’ll stop smoking so much, whatever you want I’ll do it.”
“I never wanted to change you, I just didn’t think you were this type of person, that’s not enough.” You knew about what she did and how she was before you decided to get into a relationship with her, that wasn't the problem the problem was her continuous pattern of lying to you, the fact that she wouldn't take accountability and that she was abusing her power to black mail your friends. You snatch your hand from here and she once again beats you to the door. She stands in front of the last door needed to walk out into the hallway and out the building. “I love you.” She licks her lips quickly waiting for your response. You shake your head denying her confession. “Yes, I do Printcessa.” 
“No, that’s not fucking funny.”
“I’m not laughing.” 
“You’re lying.” Your response bites back
“I’m not and you know I’m not, is it enough?” The silence was only killing her even more than before.
“Is love enough?” She nudges her nose against yours as her lips quiver. “I love you.” She tilts her head to remain eye contact with you. You found the floor more interesting in this moment you didn’t know if this was another mind game, she liked to play it if she was being serious. Wanda sees your struggle with believing the truth behind her words, she pushes further into detail with more confidence. This was the first time she’s ever said them to anyone in a romantic way, this was a big step for her to admit it out loud because she’s known that she’s been in love with you from the start. “I’m in love with you, tell me it’s enough.” She whispers the last confession of love against your lips as she holds your chin in place to stop you from moving away from her. “Please.”
Once again, she's met with silence, she drops to her knees in front of you, her strong hands clinging to your legs with desperation. "I'm sorry" She mumbles the words into the fabric of your Jeans multiple times like a prayer. Finally snapping out of the trance, you're aware of how she's feeling and what just happened. She just poured her heart out to you and received nothing from you except for a blank face and silence. as you gather your thoughts Wanda cries harder into you, no doubt leaving stains of her salty tears behind for evidence.
"Wanda." The sound of your voice wasn't what she was expecting, and you weren't expecting her to ignore you and to cling against you tighter. You try again to grab her attention and to calm her down, with the amount of tears she's shed. You're sure exhaustion was ready to hit her like a train pretty soon. "Wanda, stand up." Your request goes ignored as she frantically shakes her head no. She can't take this; she can't take the rejection after she just bared her soul to you. Wanda would never recover if she got up from this cold hard floor hoping for a second chance just to watch you walk away from her again. She would rather keep you like this, in her arms forever than to let that happen. It isn't until she feels the warmth from your hand on her shoulder that she pulls away from your stained Jeans to look up at you.
"Stand up." Your voice comes out soft and yet that still doesn't bring any comfort to her, as your face remains unreadable. reluctantly she stands up on shaky legs, and she has to immediately link her fingers together to keep them from latching on to your once more. She studies your face, waiting for you to say it was over, that you couldn't forgive her.
What she does next wasn't what you were expecting. As you walk closer to her disheveled figure, she shies away from you. for the first time today, she looks away from you and desperately tries to find something to ground herself with. "I can't be with you." That was the final nail in the coffin, the final words she needed to hear to let her know that this relationship was truly over with. She tries to move past you, but your hands force her back to her previous position in front of the door. She lost all remains of her hearing with the words you spoke that she didn't even hear the rest that followed afterwards.
---------------
"I can't be with you if you hide things from me, blackmail and intimidate my friends, and lie." That still didn't bring any comfort or reassurance to Wanda that this would be worked out, so she keeps her head down and her eyes remain focused on the rings on her fingers. She's surprised they didn't slide off her fingers and clash into the floor with how fast she was spinning them against her sweaty skin. "Do you understand?" You gently rub you hand against her hair, cautiously fixing her messy strains as she processes what you asked her.
" Yes." The sense of your touch brings her back to earth. She was too afraid to move right now, thinking that if she made one subtle move you would be changing your mind for some odd reason.
You tug her forward, embracing her in a much-needed warm embrace. her quick breathing inhales and exhales in the crook of your neck from relief. Wanda clenches her eyes shut and focuses on the scent of you. The scent she's been without for a what feels like forever. you reluctantly pull away from her, she wasn't the only one going through it you just hid it more. You missed her, you missed seeing her waiting outside of your classes with flowers, a snack from the cafe and some spontaneous adventure she planned to take you on every day since this whole situation started. Your hands find their home on either side of her face, you slowly and gently wipe away at her stained tears.
Wanda was getting anxious as to what would come next, but she wasn't expecting the touch of your lips against hers. The kiss starts off with you doing all the work until the initial shock wears off and Wanda finds herself kissing back with more purpose and enthusiasm, you both put your all into this kiss. If the problem of breathing wasn't a factor for you two, you're certain you would've never pulled apart from each other. Your foreheads touch as you both clench the fabrics of your clothes. Soft panting is the only sound heard within this room right now. "Is it enough?" Wanda brings the discussion back to the burning question you left unanswered. After a brief pause and a deep breath, you finally reply to her question.
"It's enough." You nod your head slowly, whispering the words softly against Wanda's lips and only pulling away slightly to see her joyous reaction. She's been going through withdrawals and the first time she can have that feeling, that she now knows is love rushing through her body she takes that opportunity to be under that influence again, never wanting to be without it; to be without you. "It is?" her voice cracks with uncertainty, even after the intimate and vulnerable moment you two just shared. You crack a wide smile and nod your head in confirmation.
"Mhm." You hum in response and Wanda doesn't give you time to say anything else after that. Wanda's body collides into you causing you to stumble back into the small couch you've gotten familiar with in this art studio. Her lips attach themselves back upon yours, eager hands briefly roam your body before they settle against your waist still holding you with desperation and strength. You indulge her, letting her do whatever she needed to do. You needed the reassurance and comfort as well; this whole thing was unlike anything you've faced before while being in a relationship. You let her take as much love and affection she needs. She pulls back leaving you breathless before she moves onto her next destination to shower you with affection. She ignores your giggles and wiggling as she peppers your face with wet kisses while repeating her apologies over and over again until she finally pulls away from you on her own. "I love you, Princess."
"Wand-" Before you could get the words out Wanda shushes you and places her finger against your lips. She didn't want to hear your reply to her right now.
"No, I don't want you to say it just because I did. If you really love me, say it on a random day when I'm not expecting it, I can't be the only spontaneous one in this relationship, can I?" She playfully grins at you and you're happy to see her slowly returning back to her old self again. The darkness fading from her, and this environment was clearly evident to anyone who saw her state before now. Truthfully Wanda didn't know if you loved her as she loved you, so saying this was a way to keep that small chance of hurt away from her, but if you truly loved her, you'd say it on your own and not because she said it first. That's what she keeps telling herself in her mind.
“I just want you to know where my heart lies and that I’m serious about fixing things.” How could you not fall for her when she’s pulling out every raw emotion in her body right now. “If this is gonna work; I’m if we’re gonna work we need to take things slow, clearly we rushed into this too fast.”
“Whatever it takes.” She nods in agreement and pulls you back into her embrace. This was Wanda’s last chance, and she was not going to mess it up. “Should we go check on Nat and tell her we made up? She’s awfully quiet in there.” You nod towards the room stores with paint. Wanda wanted to be as close as possible to you, her face snuggles against the soft skin of your face. She groans as you try pulling away from her, she’d stay in this spot forever if you’d let her, as long as you where hers again. You surprise Wanda when you scoop her up in your arms, her leg’s immediately wrap around your waist as she chuckles. She was never ashamed to be vulnerable or submissive with you, it was very much welcomed especially after missing your touch for weeks. You walk into the room to actually find Natasha finger painting with her AirPods in her ear. She spots you both from the corner of her eye and plasters a devious smirk across her face. “I see the two horny love birds are back together.”
“Shut up.” Wanda replies back in an annoyed tone. “Don’t be rude I haven’t seen you in days and you haven’t even praised me for my artwork.” Natasha pouts in a sarcastic manner as she holds up the finger painting. “Can we go back out there I can’t deal with her my head still hurts.” Wanda turns back to you and turns your head to face hers. “You’re so rude! Y/n do you like my finger painting?” You slightly turn towards Natasha which grants you a grunt from Wanda. “I like your painting Nat.” Natasha gloats from the approval and winks at Wanda. “It’s a shitty painting, now can we go home?” Natasha mumbles under her breath as she cleans up the mess she made and dangles her keys as a motion that they can leave.
-----------------
After being in the backseat with Wanda once again she clings onto to you with desperation but this time it was a calm desperation. When you finally made back to Wanda's apartment all she could think about was showering and laying in her own bed again. you didn't want to ruin her mood about her piled up assignments she's missed since she skipped class or how she put her brother through such a panicked state. “I don’t think you’ll be getting any rest today baby.” Wanda swoons from hearing the pet name again. Hearing her last name fall from your lips made her angry. “Why is that? Oh, I know you wanna make it up to me with sex? You know I love going all night with you.” She wiggles her eyebrows playfully. You gently seat her arm. “No, first of all you don’t have the energy, second of all we’re not having sex until I see progress in you, and lastly.”
“Wanda!” Wanda’s eyes go wide with shock when she sees her fuming and disheveled brother standing outside of her apartment door. Wanda immediately groans, placing her head in your neck and mumbling what sounded like she should’ve stayed at her studio. “That’s why.” You say as you watch kiss her head and gently push her towards her brother that had every right to be angry. The reprimanded conversation takes place, and you take the chance to text Yelena and Kate to fill them in on Wanda’s whereabouts, deciding to leave out the part of you two working things out, you’d do it in person. As Natasha stands next to you, and you turn to her slightly bumping her shoulder for attention. She grants you the attention immediately. “Thank you.”
“For what? You’re the one that found her, I should be thanking you.” She playfully bumps your shoulder back. “For calling me out earlier and getting me back on track. Also, for telling me what truly happened that night.”
“Don’t worry about Jean anymore, I handled it.” You didn’t quite know what that meant but by the way her tone changed you weren’t sure you wanted more details.
“Princess, I need you, Piet is making my head explode.” You and Natasha both smile at each other. “Duty calls.” You say as you walk towards the door with Natasha following close behind you. “You know she’s not gonna let you leave the apartment, right?” You already had a feeling she wouldn’t let you leave; you’ve accepted the fate that lies ahead. You already had things here anyway you had no excuse as to why you couldn’t stay for two weeks.
At the end of the day when Pietro finally left, and Wanda was snug asleep in your arms she dreamed of ways to redeem herself from every diminishing title she heard fall from your lips during the arguments. She’d never want to ask for a favor again after the hell she went through just to get it. She ultimately lost more than she gained in a matter of a split second. It was finally Wanda would never lie or keep things from you again, and lastly, the word ‘Favor’ would never roll off of her tongue again.
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haitaniapologist · 2 years
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COUNTING SINS.
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╰┈➤ many were the names that helen of troy was called by the poets. the most beautiful woman in greece, a daughter and a sister of kings and gods, an evil witch, a whore. but she was just a girl torn between love and duty, wasn't she? just like you. exactly like you. but there weren't guns in ancient greece, and the trojan war could never be compared by the bloodshed that could happen in tokyo if you fell in love with the wrong person — especially being married to his worst enemy, and brother.
pairings — izana kurokawa x fem!reader x sano manjiro.
warnings — reader is the youngest haitani, cheating, gang things, talks about a gang war, non-explicit s*x, dubcon, guilty feelings, heartbreaking, light angst.
prologue — next chapter — masterlist (taglist form can be found there)
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BOOK ONE: BREAK MY BROKEN HEART.
verse one
you were used to waking up to a cold and lonely bed, but that didn't mean it didn't hurt like hell. 
the exact moment your marriage with izana became such a shallow thing was still a mystery for you, but everything seemed to change when you two came back from your honeymoon. it seemed as if he wanted just to possess you, to call you his and put a beautiful ring on your finger, just for the sake of saying he managed to settle down with the haitanis' younger sister. 
kakucho, when you voiced your worries to him, said it was just the way izana was — he didn't know how to show love, even though you disagreed with him. you felt loved in your dating months, loved like no one else ever loved you before. why things needed to change now, that you two were married? and change for the worst, actually. 
the only thing keeping you relatively happy were the notes. 
at first, you thought it was your husband, the sender of them. it made sense — who else would be doing such a thing? and it made sense, too, due to kakucho's explanation about how izana truly loved someone. but you could recognise your husband's calligraphy in a heartbeat, and it wasn't his. the thought about who was a fool enough to send such romantic and tender notes to the woman married to japan's most wanted criminal haunted you for months, even though the notes were your source of happiness.
the worst part was that you couldn't tell a soul about it, because if word about it reached izana's ear, they would end in the spot. 
but when the first signed letter arrived, you knew izana could do anything he wanted, but he wouldn't stop writing them for you. 
sano manjiro was the name in the bottom of one of them, a note that left you in tears — manjiro had a way with words that nobody would ever think a man like him would have, and all of his words touched your heart like nothing ever did. you almost couldn't read the signed name due to your tears but, when you did, your heart started to race inside your chest. 
you couldn't deny that mikey was someone that sometimes crossed your mind. not always, but you always remembered his onyx eyes at the most inappropriate times. they had an enormous impact on you, as you thought they always did with anyone that looked straight at them. but you tried not to think too much about him — after all, you had your own husband, someone that was mikey's enemy and brother. nothing good would come if you pursued such thoughts, but manjiro was a stubborn man, managing to reach you through his letters, with the help of someone that you always wanted to know the identity of. 
you weren't the only traitor in bonten. 
some nights, an enormous guilt crashed over you. you were clearly cheating on your husband — even if nothing physical happened, you were receiving love letters from another man that wasn't him, you were thinking about another man whenever you two had intimate moments together. that was cheating, but you couldn't stop. through his letters, manjiro showed you more love and care than your husband did since your return from your honeymoon, and he made you feel wanted and important with just some words written in black ink.
you weren't even sure that izana wasn't cheating you on too. 
sometimes, you wanted to ask your brothers about it. but izana was their boss, and just the implication of such a thing happening could cause a war between them — and that happening was going to be your downfall. you wouldn't be able to endure seeing your brothers fighting with your husband, and you wouldn't know which side to pick, even if izana was cheating on you. deep down, you wanted to believe he still loved you, even though his actions spoke otherwise. 
you sighed, watching your reflection in the mirror. you had changed since you married izana — no longer wearing the soft and pastel colors you loved so much to wear, always choosing the colors your husband said fitted you best. they were normally red or black, bonten's colors, and you didn't mind wearing them to match with him. however, he wasn't home now, and you could wear whatever you want without him criticizing your fashion choices. 
wearing your favorite colors always managed to make you happy, and the thrill of receiving another love letter from manjiro was the cherry on top. he tried to send one every day, and they always managed to make your heart race and cheeks red — even if your heart was being consumed by guilt.
you didn't have much to do. izana always insisted that you didn't need to work, as he could provide everything and anything you wanted. but sometimes you missed going to university, having some girl friends around you, people who you could tell what was happening. 
you excited your room, heading to your living room. maybe seeing some TV would be good for you, but a glimpse of pink hair caught your attention. 
only one person in bonten had pink hair, and even though you knew he was aware you were following him, that didn't stop sanzu haruchiyo from delivering another of mikey's letters. 
a gasp left your lips and he chuckled. “surprised, princess?” he was holding the paper between two of his fingers, his twin scars up due to his smirk. “your brothers never told you about my involvement with mikey in the past?” it was a genuine question, and you knew it. you were observant, of course, and knew all the bonten members' mannerisms. haruchiyo had his head slightly tilted to the left, the indication that he was curious about your answer. 
“no.” you answered, taking some careful steps towards him. “i've only known you as a tenjiku member, and nothing from your past from before it.” ran and rindou always made sure you weren't involved with gang matters while you were growing up, to give you some sort of normalcy during your teenage years — a thing they didn't have. 
sanzu nodded, his green eyes shining with something you couldn't pinpoint what it was. “i was a toman member. i still am.” he confessed, quietly, as someone would confess their sins to a priest. your theory about a traitor was right, after all, though it was someone you would never suspect. haruchiyo seemed such a loyal person, someone you were sure was ready to give his life to izana — but his loyalty lay somewhere else. “what are you going to do with this information, princess?”
you came to the conclusion that it was a test. probably an order from manjiro. 
“nothing, but only if you give me my letter.”
the smile on haruchiyo's face could be seen as a sinister one, but it had a small amount of relief on it, too. if you decided to tell your husband, you would probably end years of planning both manjiro and haruchiyo did, and lose the only thing keeping you sane throughout the days. 
he quickly lowered his hand, and you took the paper from his fingers, eager to know what manjiro had to say for you today. 
my y/n,
i hope this letter reaches you on a good time. and that you discovered and took with your gentle eyes the new information about haruchiyo i gave you. he can now be our source of connection, if you wish to return a note — i don’t care if all of this is one-sided. sanzu says everything i need to know about what you feel towards them, and it always pleasant news to my heart. 
though, on this one, i won’t declare my undying love and adoration for you. you already know that, my sweet. but i wish i could say what’s in my heart looking at your eyes and holding your face in my hands, but only if you wish this too. i know how dangerous it’ll be for us to meet, but i would take any risk just to look at your eyes once more. i won’t pressure you on anything, but, at least, ease the ache in my heart — for the good, or for the bad. 
always yours, 
manjiro. 
the beating of your heart was so loud that you were sure sanzu could hear it, your cheeks red and hands shaking with the prospect of seeing manjiro once more. the first and last time you saw him was on the day you became izana’s wife, and his eyes had never left your mind since. before knowing where sanzu’s loyalty really laid on, you thought seeing him again would be just a daydream of yours — but now it was more tangible, something that you could almost touch with your hands if you reached enough. 
“will you deliver something for me, sanzu?” you asked in a hushed whisper, afraid that one of the staff could catch you and one of your husband’s executives having a moment together — if izana ever dreamed you were cheating on him with sanzu, you were sure both of you would be dead by the next morning. 
but the house’s staff was nowhere to be seen, and you realized it was sanzu’s doing, too. 
“of course. i would do everything for you and mikey, y/n.” you were flustered at his words, but you could understand where they were coming from — you made mikey happy, and that made sanzu happy. his loyalty was admirable. 
“then get me some pen and paper, haru, please.” you smiled at him, already making your way to your room once more. “we’ll need to plan this meeting very carefully if we want to not die.”
verse two
“where’s sanzu?” 
izana’s voice reverberated through the room, his orchid eyes scanning his executives sitting around the table. his first instinct was to search for takeomi’s eyes, as sanzu’s older brother, but everyone in the room knew they didn’t want to be affiliated with one another — a story with deep roots that he wasn’t able to extract from both him and shinichiro, and apparently just a few knew the exact reason why the akashi brothers seemed like stranger than siblings. 
instead, his eyes landed on mucho. 
“he asked to be the one in charge of y/n’s protection this morning, sir.” it was yasuhiro’s answer, and it made izana content. sanzu was someone that he knew he could count on, especially to take care of you — he once heard him saying you reminded him of his little sister to rindou, and such an information soothed his heart. he couldn’t only rely on your brothers’ to be the ones in charge of your security, as they were more valuable members to bonten than haruchiyo. 
though your brothers didn’t seem so happy knowing you were with sanzu. but they said nothing, knowing that now you were izana’s property instead of their own. 
izana nodded, eyes now fixed at takeomi. “very well. shall we start this meeting, then?” 
at the agreement nod of all his executives and of the ex-members of the black dragons, his advisor started. 
the topic was, as always, sano manjiro’s growing gang — the tokyo manji gang, mostly known as toman. it was a topic that didn't worry izana that much a few years ago, as toman had always been there, like a bug that could be easily crushed. but mikey was worse than their older brother, as takeomi said to him once, and his charisma was enough to be able to make someone’s loyalty change with the blink of an eye, and that was worrisome. some of bonten’s lower members had already left izana’s side, traitors that were now in the protection of mikey, making it difficult for sanzu and mucho to kill them. 
that wasn’t a good thing, and takeomi always made that izana knew the consequences of another powerful gang in tokyo — the city couldn’t handle two powerful gangs at the same moment, hence why izana made sure he had defeated every single one of them, making their members his members and their leader, his executives' play things. if toman continued to grow like it was, stealing members and disrespecting bonten’s influence, izana couldn’t see an outcome that wasn’t a war to determine whose gang the hegemony would be of.
and he knew mikey knew that, too. 
he let takeomi explain the situation to his executives, his mind wandering to you, his beautiful wife. sometimes he felt like he was neglecting you, but you were always ready to welcome him with open arms and legs spread, so maybe it was just in his head — you knew, of course, about how hard he worked to make tokyo his and yours kingdom, how hard he worked so you didn’t need to, so you could have whatever you wanted at the crackle of your fingers. 
the only thing he expected in return was your loyalty, and izana knew nobody would be able to make you change it. he was your first love, your first everything. you would never betray him and, if you did, he preferred you dead than between another man’s arms. 
ran and rindou knew nothing about that, of course. you were their precious little sister, and if you died, izana didn’t know what they could do — but accidents always happened, right? he shook his head imperceptibly, though kakucho noticed the change in his behavior. you weren’t cheating on him, and he was just paranoid. maybe the situation with toman was making him more and more stressed, and such intrusive thoughts were always lingering on his mind. 
izana dismissed kakucho’s puzzled eyes with a nod, orchid eyes back at takeomi. 
“it is izana’s decision what we should do, but a war is inevitable.” the older akashi finished his presentation, and the atmosphere in the room was gloomy — war always meant deaths, and every single one of them had dear people back at home that their deaths would make their heart suffer the most. “wakasa and benkei can attest on my behalf if someone doesn’t believe me.” he continued. “tokyo can only have one big gang around.” 
“any objections?” izana asked, eyes scanning the room. nobody dared to utter a word, and izana smiled. “very well. ran, rindou, you may start the preparations. i’ll send y/n to our house in okinawa, so i expect you two to focus on your task.” he sounded harsher than he intended, but he couldn’t have his two strategists not thinking straight because of their little sister’s safety. sometimes, he even wished he still had such a relationship with emma — but she was a traitor, like everyone else. “the others can expect orders soon.” 
with that, he left the meeting room, kakucho on his side. 
if it was war that sano manjiro wanted, izana would grant his little brother’s wishes.
verse three
the izana you met, the one you fell in love with, always managed to come back when he needed to relax — and by that, he needed your body to take his mind out of whatever was troubling him. and you weren’t strong enough to not fall for his sweet words and wandering hands, your arms already opened to welcome him whenever he arrived home and buried his face on your neck and his hands already massaging one of your breasts. 
however, as much as your body was under izana, reacting beautifully to his ministrations with the sounds he loved to hear, your mind was still trapped in the prospect of meeting mikey in the next day. it was sanzu’s idea, of course, as he knew how much his true boss wanted to finally hold you between his arms — if you denied manjiro of another day without your presence, haruchiyo said he would probably march inside your house and steal you away. 
that couldn’t happen, of course. it would be a formal declaration of war, the transgression of territories, and you couldn’t put mikey in danger just because of his urge — and yours now, too — of seeing you again. 
a particularly hard thrust of izana was what took you away from your thoughts, a mewl escaping your lips. you were cheating on your husband, weren’t you? thinking about another man while he was balls deep inside you, when he finally acknowledged you after days without sparring you a glance — you should be happy, shouldn’t you? he was finally being the izana you met those months ago. but you couldn’t bring yourself to be happy, like you used to. 
was that what you were for him? just a whore that he could use whenever he wanted, but a whore that belonged to him and no one else? it needed to be that, and you felt like a fool for always falling for his antics. maybe everything had been a competition between him and your brothers, and you were the prize — and maybe that’s why they looked so gloomy on your wedding day. maybe they knew that once you were married, izana would become distant and cold, but couldn’t tell you. 
but why did he do that? why he needed to play with your feelings if he was just going to use you for sex? it would’ve been better if he made you his personal slut, without the attachment a marriage would bring. it would be better if you knew his real intentions with you, than marrying him and falling for his estranged brother. 
tears started to burn in your eyes. “am i making you feel so good that you’re crying, my love?” you heard your husband ask, and you were glad he had mistaken your tears with pleasure than seeing how heartbroken you were. 
you could only hum, afraid that your voice would denounce that you were feeling everything but pleasure. you let your husband do whatever he wanted with your body, trying to mask your real feelings with a few moans and whispers of encouraging words to him, even though you weren’t feeling good. it was the first time that sex with izana wasn’t a pleasurable moment, and you felt dirty and like the most foolish woman in the word. 
faking your orgasm a few seconds before izana’s own release, you almost sighed in relief when he slide out of you, his cum dripping from your pussy. he smiled at the sight of you fucked out beneath him, fingers sliding inside your hole once more making you whimper in overstimulation. “need to make sure everything is inside, love.” he explained, kissing your lips. “don’t you think a little me or little you running around would be a blessing?” 
if he said those words before today, you would have agreed wholeheartedly with him. but now? dread was pooling in your stomach.
verse four
the mornings after izana was a husband again were always the worst.
they were always a remind of what he became, since it only take him only one night to revert to a cold and heartless man - and the realization of what you were to him wasn't helping you with the intrusive thoughts. was he like that since the beginning and you were blind by the spells of first love to acknowledge that? 
you sighed, turning around in your bed. you were wearing only one thin nightgown, not enough to protect your body from his smell and touch, and you almost flinched away when he kissed your neck - more tenderly than usual, and that worried you. did the prospect of having a child with you enough to make him be like he was? but, would he treat your child the same as he did with you? that wouldn't be fair.
“what do you say about having breakfast together, my love?” his offer was tempting — he didn't let you have dinner before he was ravishing your body, and your stomach was starting to rumble with hunger. 
however, you knew such an offer wasn’t being made because of his big and generous heart. no, izana had other intentions than just eating breakfast with you, and you started to get anxious about what it was. did he know about your plans to meet mikey in the afternoon? did he know about the letters, or that you’ve started to fall out of love with him? you were sure you were masking your feelings well, he couldn’t be able to know. you still acted the same, you were sure of it.
you nodded, almost imperceptible, but he noticed — smiling sweetly at your agreement. he held his hand for you and you took, not as firm and tight as you used to, the feeling now foregin and strange. his hand was too big and too demanding, squeezing and interlacing your fingers while you followed him to the dining room, only with a flimsy nightgown protecting your body from the eyes of the staff, the breakfast table already prepared, all your favorite foods and drinks displayed on top of it. 
he knew. he knew about your plans with mikey. 
once, if he had pulled the chair for you to sit on, your heart would be beating loudly inside your rib cage and your cheeks would be read like a rose. now, however, you managed to give him a small smile, but your heart was beating quickly inside your chest for different reasons. if he noticed the change in your behavior, he said nothing. 
breakfast was filled with small talk, mostly done by izana — he updated you on how bonten activities were going about, or funny things that happened to him and his executives. that brought a smile to your face and laughter to bubble from your lips. the boys were also a comforting presence in your life while you grew up, and hearing about them and your brothers being relaxed around each other. 
you wish you could’ve been there to see it for yourself, and not just listen to it by your husband’s lips. 
breakfast was ending and izana showed you no signs of having discovered your afternoon plans, which made everything even more suspicious. that wasn’t just an act of love of an absent husband to his not so faithful wife, far from it. however, when he started to speak again, you understood why he had done that. “y/n, my love.” honey laced his tone and you knew something was going to happen. you tried to act as normal as you could, but anyone could see how nervous you were feeling. “i don’t wish to alarm you, but war is coming. i hope you understand the implications of it.” 
you knew what he meant. bonten and toman were going to clash, and you were in the middle of it. 
“i’ve made a deal with your brothers to make you safe. tonight, you, sanzu and mucho are going to leave for our house in okinawa.”
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It's time for the dinner between Diyan and Inara, it seems everyone's nerves are a bit...on edge...
"Well?" Inara turned in a circle in front of Arik once she had gotten dressed, she had a nervous smile that reflected the tone of her voice.  She'd showered and pulled her hair back in a low ponytail, then gotten dressed in the shirts she'd been given.  It was far from the dresses she’d worn in the palace, but she didn’t think that she looked too bad.  That didn’t mean that she didn’t want Arik to tell her she looked nice.  His opinion was the one that mattered to her.
"Truth?" He asked from where he was sitting on the bed with his outstretched legs crossed.  Instantly her smile disappeared as she nodded, his voice hadn’t sounded positive.  "Shouldn’t you worry about what Noar thinks?"  His mouth had worked before his brain did, and he instantly closed his eyes and hated himself when the look of hurt was awash over her face.  They has already covered everything and he was fucking it up, because he was jealous and hated the entire situation that was taking place.
Clenching his jaw, Arik got off the bed and walked over to her.  When her eyes didn't raise to meet his, he was gutted by his own stupidity.  He hadn’t meant to hurt her, but he had because he couldn’t contain his own emotions regarding what Diyan was doing.  "Inara, the truth is, I'm jealous.  You look sexy, and whether you intend for it to be for him or not, it is."  
He took her chin between his thumb and two fingers to raise her face to look at him.  The unshed tears in her eyes only added to the guilt that he felt.  "I said I was jealous earlier, but I'm even more so now that I get to see how you’re going to look for that dinner."  He stepped a little closer to her, placing a hand on the small of her back. "My only consolation is you're still mine after dinner.  At least I hope I haven't ruined that." His head slowly dropped to bring their lips together ever so softly.  Each kiss was savored, each touch relished, he would keep them all fresh in his memory during his time on the bridge.  Moreso, he would be looking forward to all of the ones that would take place afterwards, not to mention being able to hold her in his arms for the night.
Inara couldn't help being a little relieved that Arik disliked this as much as she did. The feel of his lips on hers, with that brush of day old stubble he liked to keep, sent chills across her skin.  There was just something about the feel of their bodies pressed together, along with his kisses that were always sensual and soft that made her melt.  And if he kept kissing her like that, it would help her get through it.   "Yes, I'll still be all yours afterwards.  He's just borrowing me for a couple hours since it's clear his personality is the reason he's single." Her arms were around his waist and she gazed up at Arik affectionately. How had this man remained single? One look from Arik’s dark eyes and she felt like she wanted to melt into his arms. She’d started to feel that way once she could get a good look at him, in the hold of the ship.  Maybe she just had a thing for valiant knights? 
It took all of Arik’s strength of composure from serving in the Royal Court for him not to laugh uproariously.  Once more he was finding certain parts of the situation hilarious.  The reason Diyan was single was because he had been intended to marry Inara, herself.  While they'd both run from the wedding to the other, only Diyan was now pursuing Inara.  She still wanted nothing to do with him, and it was Diyan’s own fault this time. Diyan would be humiliated and horrified to know the whole situation, which Arik wouldn't do to him, for more than a few reasons.  It didn’t mean that Arik couldn’t find the whole situation humorous and ironic secretly.  There was also a sense of satisfaction that Inara would once more be in HIS arms at the end of the night.  
"If I must share my beautiful Princess, I will make the sacrifice for a short time.  Just try to have a good time.  He can be a little bit of an ass, but he's not a bad person." Arik kissed the tip of her nose as he pulled her closer. "You're safe with him, even if annoyed." His forehead came to rest against hers as he gazed down into her eyes.  She owned him and she didn’t even know it.  He doubted even if she did that she would use the power over him.  Of all of the Princesses that he’d met while serving alongside Diyan, Inara was definitely an enigma, and that is what drew him so deeply to her. That she looked at him like he was the one that was the Prince and hero only made her more special to him.  
A knock came at the door.  Time for Arik to go up to the bridge for a while.  "See you soon." He kissed her softly, winked, and headed out.  He would be counting the minutes till her date with Diyan was over.
***
"Is she ready?" Diyan asked when Arik stepped up on the bridge.
"Yes.  And she looks lovely.   Be nice, she's nervous." Arik was trying not to grind his teeth.  Once more Diyan was going to try to seduce a woman that Arik had realized that he was in love with.  It was not the first time Diyan would try and seduce a woman Arik had feelings for, but this time was different.  The feelings were different.  Inara was different.
"How far will not get me hit?" Diyan asked suddenly, catching Arik off guard.
"Excuse me?" What the actual fuck was Diyan asking and why did he suddenly was to hit him FOR asking?  Did he really want to know what he could do with Inara that wouldn’t upset Arik?  Seriously?  So he DID know Arik cared for Inara and yet was going ahead with this dinner anyway, AND he wanted to know what he could do and not get hit for it.  So much for being brothers and best friends it seemed.
"At what point is she going to slap me?  And at what point are you going to try to break my jaw?" Diyan’s brows rose as he looked at his old friend.  He still had no clue what their relationship was, and he preferred not to have a repeat of the previous interactions. He did however want to seduce the alluring Renisa into his bed for at least the duration of this voyage, and maybe for the foreseeable future.  She was beautiful, smart, had a backbone, and could hold her own, these were all things he craved.
"I won't speak for her.  However," Arik looked at the floor for a second before his eyes met Diyan’s again with a change in them making him appear much more threatening, "don't make her cry, upset, have to run from you, or slap you and I won't hit you.  I trust her.  She trusts me.  I will know if something happens." There was something dark and sinister about his grin that made Diyan clear his throat once Arik had stopped speaking.  He was on the cusp of breaking a cheekbone if not his jaw currently.
That spoke loud and clear. "I intend to avoid all of those." Diyan nodded towards Arik.  "You are awfully protective of her, Arik." 
"I am." Arik replied evenly.  "I care about her, and she about me. She's been through a lot, and I won’t have that added to.  I have promised more than once to always keep her safe.  The more important she becomes to me, the more that promise means to me. And she is quite impotant."
"But there's nothing officially?  You’re not engaged, or otherwise committed?" Diyan wanted to be clear. No intended status, no betrothal, and he already knew no marriage.  
"Not yet. Yet." Arik wouldn't pull punches with him.  They'd known each other too long. "I assume you will try to change her mind about the possibility of there ever being.  As I said, we care deeply about one another, Diyan, and we are progressing.  I trust her to do the right thing in regards to our relationship."  What he wasn’t going to be able to do much longer was control his temper.   Maybe he'd never realized how entitled Diyan was before.  Arik couldn't imagine asking the same things of Diyan that he was asking currently, if the roles were reversed.
"It's just dinner.  She seems to have made that clear." And Diyan couldn't help but show his annoyance at this.  There was a bite to his words, making them clipped and short.
"What the fuck did you expect?" Now there was an edge to Arik's voice, his jaw tightening, and the volume of his words rising slightly; he saw Diyan’s eyes widen from it. "We got on this boat together.  There was something starting even then, a binding trust, and we've only grown closer since.  Did you expect her to just tell me to fuck off, to be with you?  I’m not sure whether that idea is an insult to me or her more.  Maybe you should think on it as well.  She tried to make it clear last night that she didn’t even want the dinner, but of course you don’t care what anyone else wants, because YOU want her, regardless of whether she’s with me or not.  Go to your fucking dinner." Arik’s arms crossed over his chest as he stared at Diyan with a highly irritated look. There was a tick starting in his jar and his molars were grinding.
"Arik…no…that’s not what…" Diyan sighed.  He was going to end up with both of them pissed soon.  It was coming out wrong or something. 
"Really?  Have you listened to yourself?  I get it, we joked last night about things that we shouldn’t have, but I was NOT serious.  I've felt guilty ever since and you're asking now how serious we are and how far you can go with her.  What the fuck?  I TRUST HER.  That is how serious things are."  Arik was actually becoming hurt, which in turn pissed him off.  The more he thought about it, the worse he felt.  He was really looking forward to Diyan returning to the bridge after this dinner so he could go down and relax, because there would be no doing so till it was over.
"Damn it, I don't know what to say.  Maybe it's because she has no interest in me, hell can barely stand me.  There's just something pulling me towards her.  I was trying to avoid this right here, but I failed."  Diyan sighed and ran a hand over his face.  "I'm not trying to steal her from you."
"You should go, NOW." Arik was done with the conversation.   He was about to lose his temper, which he didn't want to do.  Inara already did not want this dinner, Diyan arriving with a black eye wouldn’t help.
"Alright, we'll talk later."  Diyan sighed and headed off to get ready.
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