#so shes like WRONG and keeps marking me down for signing too high when like if i do it in the right place it is off the fucking screen

[larnax]

i think i could handle the horrors better if my asl teacher werent so smug. like girl you dont even have a dictionary. you dont even give us actual instructions on how the sign works. when i make scripts i have to screenshot every part of the sign bc you cant be fucked to put a reference outside of a video embedded in your hellish unusable college interface where rewinding is a fucking herculean task.AND you remove credit for the entire sentence if we make a single mistake AND you take forever to grade AND your corrections arent helpful bc you literally just say 'wrong' and then show the sign again when like i wouldnt have gotten it wrong if i wasnt having trouble with the sign. and then ON TOP OF ALL OF THAT you have the audacity to be smug about not giving us any lenience for late work and just link to "time management skills" resources. every assignment for this fucking class takes an hour to script three hours to film and six years off my life time management is not the issue

#c.paradisi #'wrong' [sign that looks exactly the fucking same to me as the one i did] #also like i do get asking us to have clean backgrounds but like i dont. have anywhere to do that. #i dont really have a choice but to have my camera in a weird position where its hard to capture the whole signing area #so i try to sign in the area thats most visible to the camera which is higher than normal #so shes like WRONG and keeps marking me down for signing too high when like if i do it in the right place it is off the fucking screen #also idk if youre telling us to never use an asl dictionary bc theyre full of mistakes #and then you keep giving me signs that a bunch of the other asl dictionaries say are wrong #how do i know YOURE not teaching me a weird dialect or outdated signs #yeah idk. i do suck at asl and im making very slow progress but im making even slower progress than i would otherwise

[daze4all]

Dragons Heat - Year of Dragon Smut NSFW

“This heat ahh think I’m in rut. I haven’t been in centuries but you look so delicious…Help me dear please?”

Warning:  NSFW Breeding tail kink, alpha dragon omega reader dynamics.  heat rut. Biting aphrodisiac venom. Mating press.  Door sex

Reader is the only fertile dragon hence it falls to her to replenish the diminishing population with some help….

A tail of Teasing

Dragon! Hubby x Reader

Could be Neuvelette, Zhongli, Dan Feng( Honkai Star Rail, Malleus (Twisted Wonderland) , Jiyan (Wuthering Waves any dragon characters

The Dragon Daddies ( More pics of Dragon & Genshin Bois at end~)

Dan Heng aka Dan Feng Imbibitor Lunae - Honkai Star Rail- High Elder of the Ancient Chinese Spaceship Loufu - Dragon Race: Vidyhydra

Malleus Draconia- Male! Maleficent-the Thorn Dragon boi from Sleeping Beauty- Twisted Wonderland

Jiyan - Wuthering Waves (TBA) - Dragon man?

Soft feathery fur and glistening scales as your lover’s tail thumps beside you a sunlight lazy day.

Always honest often when your dragon partner is not.

His desires concealed by gentlemanly manner ad polite niceties while his tail deviantly wraps around your leg out of site or slithers round your waist in pubic or in sleep to keep you from straying.

Lately he had been teasing, touching, marking you with his scent unbeknownst to you. He had been more touch starved than usual sign of rut both were unaware of as it had only awaked due to him now having a mate in the long years, he had been alive.

His eye predatory as he watches every single move you make.

His face flushed from heat and eye widen with want fixated on the vulnerable nape of your neck as you take sip or put up your hair. His instincts clawing to claim you before anyone else took you.

He holds back. As ever the gentlemen and distinguished member of the community composed cool an aloof, he cannot take you over the table with so many spectators at the charity ball you been invited too. Despite the heated pants and blush trailing up his neck and ears that becomes stronger whenever you bend down or even smile at him.

The best he can do is stay close. Your presence soothing and stoking the fire in him as he stalks your every move with a predatory stare.

Flanking your side like a shadow an arm wrapped possessive over yours a bit too tightly as he escorts you at the banquet they were forced to attend.

Then at dinner pastry too close too flirtatious a man reaches out and offers you dance his gaze raking your form clearly seeing when your partner saw in you and he cannot hold it. How impertinent you were dragons’ mate he’d show it damn the consequences.

“She’s mine” eyes narrowed he hisses A possessive arm pulls you from the main venue. A tail flicking angrily pulling you away into the hallway and into an empty room. A dragons possession claimed by him touched by another could not allow.

What gotten into you? You ask perplexed naive innocent and all so unknowably thinking it was irritation anger that has him flushed and riled up. He was so snappy these days and so touchy to manhandle you.

“I need you” he groans, and you get the cue as he pulls weakly at your and his clothes his lingers touch to hips back and shoulder insinuating what he wants.

He reaches out for you his arms trapping you in embrace against the door with thunk. The door locking shut and pressed up against heated bodies.

His chaste kiss led playful nip then a horny lip bite leading you two stumbling into bedroom.

Unable to control himself his true form manifests. Growing majestic horns and swishing tail complete with spreading glowing patches of scales where smooth skin is.

“Why did you pull me away what’s wrong “softer concern in your eyes soothing him by touching his horn at its base of which normally calms him down or has him purring in your lap on lazy days.

However, the touch only serves to rile Him up as he growling snorts pulling away as such softness when beast inside wants to ruin you. He instead pressed his growing need again you and ruts.  

“This heat ahh think I’m in rut. I haven’t been in centuries, but you look so delicious…” he gasps as he slams  you against the door repeatedly pressing his need and want against you as you redden.

“I smell you . your ready . so wet “he whispers in your ear grasping at a empty stomach but not for long

“Ah will you help my dear I need you right now?” he begs pretty tears and flushed face. Frazzled loosening normally perfectly pressed clothes as he lean over you against the door his face beautiful but pleading face flushed and teary eyed despite his intimidating towering frame.

You let out startled cry as you cry his name as your knees go weak in a surge of pain and pleasure.

“Don’t look at other men. Don’t even think about them just me” he growls possessive breath at your neck tickling as he licks and scatters love bite on your neck. Sucking the pulse point before sinking in fangs turning it into a deep claiming a bloody claiming mark.

 And slight sense of panic that dulls. Before feeling slightly drowsy like in dream as syrupy sweet pleasure seeps in and heats your core. His bite injected apodrosiac venom making you his mate as sensitive and receptive to heat as he was.

Dazed and flustered as he ways.

“ah sorry my dear are you okay?” he says panicked when he realizes what his instincts drive him to do. However still heated and turned on by the slow slide of your blood feeling himself swallow thirstily for more.

A purr rumble though his dragon side at approval of the claiming bite bruised and bloody on your neck Now no one could mistake who you belonged to. . .

“ah it okay just ahh this heat I see now how cannot you stand it…” found yourself saying to soothe him and the heat building in your body. Panting heavily was this how he felt liethe whole week?  You give him a dazed smile high on the pleasure.

“Don’t’ hold back…ahh now can you help me?” You assent leaning into him transfixed glazed eyes filled with lust. He descends equally hungry and horny.

You shouldn’t I could hurt you he intones eyes darkening barely restrained.

“Ah I trust you “ you assert a chaste kiss turning horny as tongue and teases to bite down briefly the monster in his desiring a bit of blood riling him up further.

 A startled sound of surprise normally as he us not this aggressive but gentle afraid to break but the beast unleashed he is now unable to hold back.  

“I’ll make it good, pleasurable, you’ll see” he promises joy lighting up his feature making them glow so godly at that moment,

“ahh you were meant for this to be bred” he thinks aloud  his tail winds up your leg the tip teasing you as you rut closer for delicious friction in vain held in place by tensing tail a playful squeeze to remind you who is in control.

 “Don’t say that its embarrassing… “ you cry tears of pleasure welling up although you get wetter at the words.

“Ah I think you like it see how wet you are, how open ready to take me” he teases mind hungry to fill you breed youas he turns you your back tail and fingers teasing youas you rock backinto pleasure

“Trust me~”

Swaying before him your bottom tempting him. He ruts into your soft thighs. He is undone. A slave to instinct and a rut addled brain urging him to breed his mate quickly

Stuck on your stomach his hand pressing firmly and a tail between your legs teasing each fold delivering spark of pleasure. Softly coaxing at the tip featherlight tail drives you mad and dripping.

Teasing before delving in with gaps arch your gasp too full too big and yet pressing ever closer.

He had his mate in a mating press glued together wet and glistening the fluid as he delves deeper .

“ahh Too big “you protest as he soothes you stroking exposed arm legs anyway his hands can get ahold of and nibbling at your ears

"shh your doing so good just a little more"

“Good girl ah you feel mmh so good”

He says love drunk on you panting. Desperate movement seeking pleasure friction as his undone hair cascades and brightens in arousal his horn tail casting iridescent glow on you.

For you push back in vain only to hit the sweet spot as he ruins you his dear precious mate.

“Ah ah wait for the real thing”  he teases as he withdraws his tail from his mate and winds it around a leg to keep her in place.

“Wait that was… “you trail off your eyes widen in embarrassment blush searing your ears . A sly smirk is all the answer you need.

“no way… your tail” you cry embarrassed

“I had to prepare you somehow” he explains a cheeky grin before he descends fast sudden into your well prepared slick hole groaning as you fit perfectly.

You cry his name as he enters filling you and reaching rhythm that has you screaming in pleasure

Closing his eyes and purring in contentment. The tip of his swishing tail glowing in time to his thrusts undone by how easily you are wet you are for him and you groan alongside him.

 Your protests are swallowed. Weakly, feebly, futilely as pleasure courses through you. Toes curling hips shaking as he presses further widening opening you to take his seed,

“You are doing so good just a little more…” he bullies you with his length burying further till he hit the spot that has you seeing stars.

Walls scraping and squeezing his pulsing hardened cock just right coaxing his seed to spill into you hot and creamy taking root for new life. Ahh he needed you

His eye glow tail as do his horns and the tip of glistening tail as he commands you “Cry for me”

As a whine left parched lips reaching your high bucking into him for more delicious friction as your filled.

“Perfect~” He purrs in contentment nuzzling you for cuddles after duty well down. He remains nestled in you warmth milking and warming what remains as you shake with tremors of pleasure wrecked and overwhelmed and oh so sensitive.

After a while he flips you forward to see your flushed face. He bares his teeth hungrily at prey…eyes glowing full of love obsession and lust darkening at the sight of you layed out panting beneath him exhausted wrecked by him with your neck bared for him to take and take …

“Did I do good? “ you ask dazed but warm and safe in his cuddling embrace.

“So good dear in fact can we go again?” he whispers pleading as he shifts his hip with squelch still impossibly hard from the rut.  You are now so wet from the combination of your love juices as he slides again smoothly picking up speed as you fall to the dragon's appetite once again.

“Just on the bed this time” you concede as you both fall onto silken sheets.

Happy year of Dragon everyone! Here to share an Extra dragon boy artwork for happy new year~ I think it's Malleus but looks like Dan Feng?

Zhongli-Earth Dragon- Morax/Rex Lapis Geo Archon of Liyue from Genshin Impact

Neuvillette- Water Dragon - Judge of Fontaine from Genshin Impact

#honkai star rail smut #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail imagines #male yandere x reader #dan heng smut #malleus smut #zhongli smut #zhongli x reader #dragon smut #neuvillette smut #neuvilette x reader #dan heng x reader #dan heng x you #dan heng imbibitor lunae #dan heng il x reader #dan feng x you #dan feng x reader #female reader #female reader smut #female reader insert #fem reader #reader insert #x reader #smut #wuthering waves #wuthering waves fanart #wuthering waves jiyan #jiyan

[barcaatthemoon]

changes || mapi leon x reader ||

the natural changes in your relationship with mapi.

minors dni, 18+, smut ahead.

mapi could tell that something was up. the locker room was a weird mix of tense and seemingly excited. there were rumors of new signees, but mapi hadn't had time to look at them. however, when she arrived at her locker to see a jersey sitting next to it with your last name on it, she realized what was going on.

"are you fucking kidding me?" mapi turned to alexia, as if the woman had personally sought you out to sign. alexia tried to ignore mapi, but the brunette's glare was too much to ignore. "her?"

"she's good, and we could use the extra help on the field with jenni leaving," alexia reasoned. mapi huffed as she hurriedly changed into her kit to get out onto the field. the less time that she had to see you, the better. if mapi was ever to have an enemy, it would have been you.

she knew that there wasn't really a good reason for the two of you to hate each other, but it had been that way for years. whether it be through playing internationally or in your clubs, you and mapi had always clashed on the field together. she knew that alexia was hoping that things would be different with the two of you on the same team, but mapi knew better.

"what is the deal with her?" ona asked as she glanced over to where mapi was glaring at you. everybody knew about you, but they didn't really know you personally. this was a brand new club to you, and you were going to keep your distance because surely these girls were all already mapi's friends.

you didn't understand the rivalry between the two of you. it had started back in international youth teams, and spiraled since then. emotions had run high for you back then, and in the year since, you had mellowed out a bit. many girls who you had once played against were now your friends, with the exception of maria.

maria seemed to hold onto the resentment from your youth. for you, it all stemmed in a single game. it was your chance to show how good you really were, and mapi had shut every single one of your attempts down. you knew how that it was just her having you marked, and that it wasn't personal, but back then it felt personal.

"go away ona, i don't want to talk about it," mapi practically growled. she was much closer to snapping with you around, and it was something that ona realized they'd all have to get used to. ona just hoped that it wasn't going to be a permanent change in attitude.

…

"fuck, come on!" you shouted as you rubbed your thigh. you thought that you were alone in the training room, so when you heard footsteps, you jumped. you looked around the room, surprised to see mapi limping around with an ice pack on her knee. "oh, it's you."

"don't sound too happy," mapi muttered. your face fell, unsure of why she was still being so mean to you. the two of you barely ever interacted during practice, but today had been put on the same team for the 5-v-5. mapi had played things a little high for a couple of the drills, which meant she had gotten you some great passes. if it wasn't for the bad blood between the two of you, there would be a lot of potential for a team up.

"what's wrong with your knee?" you can't help but ask. it's not that difficult to tell yourself that it's just because you're teammates. there was no way that you cared about mapi outside of the pitch. it wasn't like you had been catching yourself thinking of her randomly throughout the day or anything.

"pina, she jumped on my back and my knee buckled. it's no big deal. what's wrong with you?" mapi didn't hide the concern in her voice. you had hobbled away early during practice, and mapi knew you better than to think it was just to get out of drills. they had been ready to start your favorite one of practice when you left.

"it's an old injury that acts up sometimes. i'm good though, barcelona didn't waste their money signing me," you reassured her. mapi's face fell, wondering if that was how you thought she felt about you. truthfully, she hadn't been happy to learn that you came all the way here, but she respected you as a player. mapi knew firsthand how good you were, more often than not having been a thorn in her side when the opportunity arose.

"do you need ice or something?" mapi asked. you shook your head. icing your leg hadn't helped it at all. the tapes would help for a bit, but you needed something more. mapi tilted her head as she watched you try to rub your discomfort out. it was risky, but she stood up and stood in front of you.

"what are you doing?" you asked as you watched mapi move your hand away. hers replaced yours, working through the knots much better than you had been able to. "mapi-,"

"don't mention it, please," mapi said quietly. you nodded and closed your eyes as you leaned back against the bench. mapi was grateful for your eyes being squeezed shut because it allowed for her eyes to roam over your body. things seemed to be just fine between the two of you until her fingers pressed a little higher up than she meant to, pulling a very breathy sigh from your lips. "lo siento."

"don't mention it," you told her. mapi noticed the way that your voice shook like you were barely holding it together. it wasn't the first time that you had crossed her mind, but it definitely was the first time that she had ever really thought about putting her hands on you like this.

…

there's a definite shift in your relationship with mapi over the next couple of weeks. the two of you aren't exactly clambering to spend time together outside of training, but everybody could tell that something had changed. you opened up more to your teammates, no longer afraid that they'd all follow maria's lead and decide to hate you.

"hola maria," you greeted happily as you sat down across from the woman. she furrowed her brows as she looked at you, a slight pout on her lips. "it's rude not to say it back."

"don't call me maria, it makes me feel like i'm in trouble," she said.

"that's your name though," you said. she got up and stood in front of you, encroaching on your personal space. "what am i supposed to call you then?"

"mapi." she grabbed onto your chin and tilted your head up so that you were looking at her. there had been a weird bit of tension building up between the two of you that everybody was waiting to come to head. alexia seemed to watch the two of you with a particular closeness, occasionally with a look of disbelief on her face.

"fine. hola, mapi," you corrected. mapi smiled down at you, leaning in almost close enough to kiss you.

"hola, (y/n). are you coming out tonight? the girls want to go dancing." the invitation had been extended to you in the parking lot, but you hadn't accepted it just yet. you knew that tomorrow was a recovery day, but you also knew that meant twice the amount of drinks as normal. the spanish girls could handle their liqour a lot better than you could, having spent most of your adult life not drinking much.

"promise to keep an eye on me and make sure i don't drink too much?" you asked her. mapi nodded, smiling as she let go of your head. the two of you paired up for some of the drills during practice, something that had become fairly normal. after practice, mapi walked you out to your car, promising to pick you up whenever it was time to go out.

…

the club was absolutely packed, and you hated it. somehow, the entire team had been talked into going, which meant you knew a good amount of the people there, but it was still far too crowded for your liking. that was why you had sat down in a booth across from alexia and refused to move no matter what.

"are the two of you having fun?" you and alexia both glanced over to jenni, who looked disappointed. mapi and leila were right next to her, both of them looking at the two of you expectantly. "come on, it won't kill you to dance with us."

"it might, you don't know that it won't," alexia shot back quickly. you smirked as you watched jenni's face harden a bit. there wasn't a doubt in your mind that alexia would be in for it whenever they got home. jenni didn't like to brag about the things that she got up to with alexia in their bedroom, but the two of you had a habit of chatting in the gym.

"well, if you die, i'll just give you cpr," jenni said as she tugged alexia out of her seat. leila followed the two of them, trailing close behind jenni. that left you and mapi to stand there and stare at each other.

"come on, if ale can get up, so can you," mapi said. she was much more gentle in getting you onto your feet. she also seemed to be content to wait until a slower song started to get you out there.

you didn't fight with mapi as the two of you swayed to the beat of the music. her hands fell onto your hips as she pressed herself up against you. you welcomed the warmth of her body, not having realized how long it had been since someone touched you like this. your mind quickly went elsewhere, but when you felt the press of mapi's lips against the side of your neck, you realized that maybe she wanted this too.

"kiss me," you said as you turned around. you knew that mapi couldn't hear you, but she could read your lips well enough to know what you wanted. and even if she couldn't, you weren't being subtle at all. your eyes hadn't left her lips, not until she was leaning in. excitedly, you surged forward and closed the gap between the two of you.

mapi's lips were soft, a contrast to the way that her teeth nipped at your lip. you let out a little yelp, one that had mapi laughing as she held you in her arms. you swallowed as you looked at her before nodding towards the door. she nodded, and the two of you left the club wordlessly.

"my place or yours?" you asked mapi. she got into the passenger's seat of her own car, having given you her keys after her second drink. you were pretty sure that she hadn't drank much more after that, but in your mind, it was always better safe than sorry.

"yours. i have never been there before," mapi answered. you started her car, jumping a little as the engine roared to life. mapi laughed at that, placing her hand on your thigh to calm you down a bit. she knew that her car could be a bit much for someone driving it for the first time, but she trusted you. you had proven yourself to be one of the very responsible members of the team, especially tonight when everybody else had chosen to get nearly blackout drunk with a few expections.

mapi seemed surprised to see where your apartment was. you had truly gotten a good location, extremely close to the training grounds and nearby several restaurants and stores. mapi was a bit jealous, even if she did like her apartment. it was close by alexia and jenni's, so she could always go annoy them whenever she felt like it.

"it's a bit messy. i had a hard time finding something to wear tonight," you warned her. mapi didn't seem to care. her eyes dropped down to your outfit, appreciatively checking you out once again. it had been hard to keep her eyes off of you earlier in the night, and she was beyond relieved whenever you hadn't pushed her away on the dance floor.

"with how good you look, we'll be lucky to make it to your bedroom," mapi told you. you clenched your thighs together as you unlocked your door. once the two of you were inside, mapi pulled you in for another kiss. this one was firm without being rough. mapi established her control very early on, but you had expected as much.

you kicked your heels off before jumping up into mapi's arms. she carried you down the little hallway, stopping momentarily to press you against the wall to kiss you a little harder. you moaned into that kiss, grinding your hips against her just a little. mapi could already feel the heat coming off of your core, and she realized that she couldn't wait to have you.

"bedroom?" mapi asked. you pointed at the door at the end of the hallway. mapi pulled you away from the wall and walked you right over there. she set you down just long enough to let you move the dresses and clothes scattered about on your bed. you turned around to see her half-naked in front of you. "like what you see?"

"fuck yes," you breathed out. mapi smirked as she moved towards you. your hands immediately flew down to touch her stomach, fingers running along the taunt and toned muscle of her abdomen. mapi's head dropped down to rest on your shoulder, breathing heavily as your hands moved along her body.

"touch me." mapi guided your hands down between her legs. you were surprised, having assumed that she wouldn't have let you in so quickly. you had heard the way mapi talked about having sex with the girls she had picked up before, and it had all sounded very one-sided. although, you supposed that her letting you touch you like this was even more exciting because you did't expect it.

your fingers were met with skin made slick from arousal. mapi was panting in your ear as your fingers teasingly stroked between her lips. mapi bucked her hips forward as your fingers approached her clit. mapi's hands grabbed onto your shoulders for support as she tilted her hips just enough for your fingers to wind up at her entrance.

"one at a time," mapi told you. she sounded desperate, so you let one of your fingers slip inside of her. mapi hiked her leg up as she bucked her hips to try and ride your finger. you quickly lifted her with your other arm, pulling both of you back onto the mattress.

mapi stayed on top of you, riding your finger as you tried to comfortably adjust yourself beneath her. you could tell whenever the one finger wasn't quite enough for mapi, and slowly added a second. once again, you were patient as mapi set the pace that she wanted. you matched her thrust for thrust, not daring to go faster than what she was.

"please, i need more. i'm so close," mapi begged you. she was a lot more prone to whining than you had originally thought, but it didn't bother you one bit. you liked the vulnerability that mapi was willing to show to you, especially considering how volatile your relationship had been in the beginning.

"do you want another finger?" you asked. mapi shook her head, and suddenly, you realized what she needed. you dropped your other hand from her hip down between her legs, allowing for your fingers to brush against her clit. you felt a surge of wetness along with the first spasm of her cunt around your fingers. the next few came in controlled little waves, matching the rhythm set by the fingers against her clit. there was only so long that she could hold off on cumming, and once she had let you, you felt her body tense up around you.

mapi lifted herself off of your fingers before settling down in between your legs. she placed her hands on your waist and bunched them around your dress. you lifted your hips up off of the bed, allowing for the bottom of your dress to move up around your waist. mapi licked her lips as she looked straight ahead to be met with the sight of your definitely ruined underwear.

"i can't wait to taste you," mapi said as she leaned in. your breath hitched as you felt hers ghost across the insides of your thighs. it wasn't fair to see her so composed immediately after an orgasm. you felt like a wreck, turned on and no longer distracted with something interesting to focus on. you were left to lay there and think about how uncomfortable the now-sticky fabric of your underwear felt.

"please hurry," you whined. mapi hooked her fingers around your underwear and pulled them down slowly. she gave a quick teasing little lick between your lips, moaning in pleasure at the taste of you.

"so sweet, i could spend all night licking up every drop." the thickness of mapi's accent made you want to clench your thighs, but her hands kept them apart. she kept you spread open as she took her time to admire you. it was touching her that had gotten you so worked up, and once the two of you were finished, mapi planned on being insufferable about it.

"just please, i want to cum so badly." you looked at mapi with a pout. she bit her lip as she pushed her finger against your entrance. "two, not just one. i need to be fucked, mapi, fucked."

she gave you a quick nod and pushed another finger inside of you without hesitation. her fingers moved at a quick pace, nearly fucking the breath out of you. you threaded your fingers in her hair and pulled her head forward, directing her so that her mouth was on your clit. mapi didn't need instruction past that.

her tongue worked magic on your clit, moving with fluidity and precision. your hips were bucking wildly as you ground yourself against mapi's face. she let you push yourself closer and closer towards an orgasm until you were on the edge of it. that was when she wrapped both of her arms around your hips, keeping you still so that she could truly control when you came.

you hadn't meant to scream her name out at the top of your lungs, but it had still happened. mapi relished in the sound of it echoing off of your bedroom walls. your neighbors would be pissed, but you'd apologize later on, if you could even face them again. mapi liked the sound of her name spilling from your lips that she didn't stop there. you were physically pushing her off of your body to get her to give you a break, and even then, she was looking at you as she "patiently" waited for another turn.

"in the morning," you promised. mapi pouted as she settled in the bed next to you.

"that is so far away," mapi whined. you rolled your eyes at her as you pulled her in for a kiss. "just one more?"

"no, it's late, and i'd like to actually get some rest now. god, you're so needy, maria," you teased. mapi's brows furrowed as she stared at you, obviously not happy with the use of her full name.

"well, now you owe me one in the morning," mapi told you. you laughed it off, already having planned on having sex with her again in the morning. you knew that the two of you had opened up a can of worms, one that you'd be exploring for at least a couple more weeks. you hoped that it would blossom into more, but you didn't want to push mapi for anything too serious when you'd only recently become friends.

#minors do not interact #woso fanfics #woso x reader #woso imagine #woso smut #mapi leon imagine #mapi leon x reader #mapi leon smut

[fourteentrout]

Colors in a Dead Garden

@tamlinweek Day 6: Fairy Tale AU

AO3 Link Here! Preview (1st chapter) below the cut!

Summary:

"It is not just an ancient enchantment that they’re dealing with, it is not just an incompetent, broken High Lord that never even asked for his position. It is the fall of the Spring Court."

With the fate of the mortal lands---and possibly the rest of Prythian---at stake, Rhysand has to confront the Court that has caused so much of his pain and suffering. The male whose claws have sunk into Rhysand's life time and time again over the centuries.

For Prythian, Rhysand finds that he has to reckon with parts of himself and his past that he's been burying for hundreds of years, and find the cure to a curse from another time in the process.

Something is wrong. The feeling washes over Rhys just as Azriel emerges from the shadows, the scent of his unease pricking at the back of Rhysand's throat. Something is really, really wrong, and not just because Azriel is so on edge.

"You need to get everyone in here." Azriel commands softly just as Rhys sends the message down the respective bonds. Within seconds, Feyre, Mor, Cassian, and Amren rush into the living space, some on foot, some winnowing, each in various states of dress and alertness. Cassian doesn't even have a shirt on. Feyre is in a loose, concealing nightgown that drapes all the way down to the floor and seems to be one size too big, with the way it slips unevenly off one of her shoulders—Rhys isn't sure he's ever seen her wear it before. He can't even remember where she got it. But, of course, there are more pressing matters at hand.

"I felt it too," Feyre says breathlessly as they all gather their bearings. "Should I contact my sisters? Should they know about this? Or, perhaps they have more information than we do, I only got a—a feeling—" she stutters, her voice jagged as her eyes dart around the group.

"No need." Azriel assures her. They had all felt the same thing, the surge of power. Or rather, the lack thereof. Not like anything they had felt when the wall was destroyed, not like something being ripped away by force—but like a candle being snuffed out. A flame turning to smoke, a dampening of light. Something so impactful that all of the High Lords would have felt it, yes, but something remarkably soft as well.

"It's the Spring Court." Azriel informs the group. Tension sizzles in the air, and Rhys feels his chest tighten with alertness. Tamlin. "I don't know the exact details, but it's bad. The Court is...there's something wrong with it, beyond its present state. This could be dangerous—not just for Spring, but for all of Prythian." Azriel turns to address Rhys directly. "We must assemble a counsel with all available High Lords as soon as possible."

Rhysand, though his mind seems to flounder, nods. He sits again at the dining table, grabbing one of the pieces of parchment he hadn't marked yet in his late night book-keeping and beginning to draft a request.

"I can check the library." Amren suggests. "I'll look for anything regarding this—" she tuts, interrupting herself, "It's hard to look for information on a feeling, but I trust you'll be able to give me something to go off of as soon as you find it." She says. Rhys nods, signing the hasty letter and dispersing it among four other pieces of parchment before sending them off.

"I will go directly to the Spring Court." He declares. Silence washes over the room, and Rhys can’t help but feel like all of the air gets sucked out of it as the group trains their eyes on him. He looks at Feyre, at her apprehensive expression.

"Rhys, if this is dangerous—you can't just—I can't go…I can't go with you." She trails off, crossing her arms over her body, holding herself.

"I know. I requested that the counsel be held there. I won't be alone." He tells her. "Hopefully."

She looks up at him with sharp eyes, tightening her grip on her torso. “I really wish we could rely on more than hope.” She says, an edge to her soft voice. As if on cue, Azriel melts into the shadows for a moment and reappears with three rolled letters in his hand, each sealed with a different color. Summer, Day, and Dawn. Azriel doesn't hesitate to open each, laying them out on the wooden table.

"Summer knows it's the Spring Court—it's how I know as well. The Summer guards stationed there were the first to feel it. I have a source in their troop who told me what he could, but as of now they are still investigating. Tarquin will show, along with Thesan. Helion has a present Courtly matter to deal with but will attend if he is able." Azriel sums up. "They will arrive at sunrise."

Nothing from Winter or Autumn. Unsurprising, though not ideal. Rhys doesn't bother sending a follow up letter. It's a miracle as it is that three courts have already responded, nevermind actually agreed to be present upon availability. Rhysand rises, facing his Court.

"Mor, I need you and Cassian to stay in Velaris. Whatever is happening down there may not be a threat to us, but I'm not taking any chances. Be on alert. Feyre, please join Amren in the library, and if need be, contact Nesta and get her to join you as well." Rhys knows it’s a slim chance that Nesta would even listen to Feyre, nevermind agree to help, but Feyre nods nonetheless and uncrosses her arms. Something in her eyes solidifies, her mental strength visibly returning. Rhys shoots what he can only describe as a beam of appreciation down the bond. "Azriel, continue to correspond with your sources, get me any information you can. We can't, by any means, let Prythian fall into panic. The Courts can't handle a break in the structure, not so soon after the War, so it'll be best if we keep as much as we can under wraps. Whatever this is, we've been through worse, but we have to be careful about it. Stay safe, and stay quiet." Rhys instructs the group, receiving silent nods in return. With that he sends them off on their respective endeavors. Only Feyre stays behind for a moment.

"Rhys." She says in a way that means she's worried.

"Feyre." Rhys responds in a way that means he'll be careful.

"I love you." She whispers simply, approaching him and wrapping her arms around his middle. Her head presses against his chest, her cheek right against his heart. He returns the embrace. He can't even express how unbelievably lucky he feels to have her, so all he does is tell her he loves her too. He sends her off with a kiss and a tuck of her loose hair behind her ear. He tries to offer a reassuring smile. She tries to return it. With that, she retreats to their room.

As Rhysand begins to prepare for his journey, he sends a silent prayer to the Mother that things are not as bad as they seem.

#tamlinweek #tamlin #acotar fanfic #my fanfic #my fanfiction #acotar fanfiction #rhysand #tamsand #rhysand x tamlin #tamlin a court of thorns and roses #a court of thorns and roses #rhys a court of thorns and roses #rhys and tamlin

[tenderlyrenjun]

Let's Play Ball mini-series

(very tentative; eta jan 2022 maybe - from here)

posts about the Let's Play Ball mini-series

Know How (Busy, Busy, Doing Dreams on Repeat)

Captain Mark Lee is busy, busy. He has seven classes this term, two clubs, volunteer work every other weekend, a part-time job at the on-campus gym, and baseball practice Tuesday, Wednesday, Saturday with games in between. The Universe keeps giving him hints to slow down - like when he got a concussion at the beginning of the season, or when he passed out in class, but he doesn't listen. So, when the KU concession stand manager, the same person studying during games instead of serving sodas and pretzels, takes forever to cook his hot dog, she asks him a question: how do you do it all?

Baseball Captain Mark Lee x concession stand manager reader

smut, fluff, comedy - sex in the supply closet, strangers to lovers, signs from the universe, mild sports injuries

status: [lined up]

Universe (Let's Fall Deep Into It)

Baseball Player Huang Renjun needs to work on his batting average (.233333). He goes to the batting cages almost everyday and even watches old footage of golden player Kim Doyoung, who he idolizes a bit but was hopelessly awkward around. He finally thinks he got around the whole awkward thing, but all his teammates befriended Doyoung's little sister, a sports enthusiast who has piously attended every KU baseball since high school. During a party when he chokes on his words, you offer to help him out on the weekends. And then it turns into something more. And Renjun finds out the one thing he needed to do.

Baseball Pitcher Renjun x sports enthusiast reader

smut, fluff, comedy (?) - choking up as a theme (if you know baseball, you'll know what I mean), awkward and rambling Renjun, no I'm not completely bitter about Renjun missing an 00-Line main unit moment no of course not

status: [lined up]

Ok! (I Will Change If You Want That)

Baseball Player Lee Jeno wins an all-star award. He is known as KU's heartthrob, from the way he opens doors for the elderly to the way he holds books for girls in the Literature department. Manners maketh man, his dad would say. But he took it a bit too far and is incapable of saying no, especially when his friends want to celebrate his award at the bars. He drunkenly stumbles through campus to his apartment, but takes the wrong turn and finds himself in front of the library, in front of an extroverted, cute chem major who has the faintest idea of who he is and knows nothing about baseball.

Baseball Center Fielder Lee Jeno x chem major and baseball averted reader

smut, fluff, comedy - introvert/extrovert themes, sex in the library, his friends think she doesn't exist because "who doesn't know about KU's famous baseball team??"

status: [lined up]

New Axis (So Everything is Mine for the Takin', Makin' Real Moves While Ya Fakin')

Baseball Player Lee "Haechan" Donghyuck is not afraid to admit he wants it all: the trophy, the legacy, the pro-athlete career. And he isn't about to let KU's rival school undermine that. Joshua Hong's younger sister constantly camps out at their practices and games, and no matter how many times Haechan has called campus security on her ass, she keeps coming back. One night, under the bright headlights, he finds her on his field, running laps. He stops her at second base, aiming a whiffle ball at her leg, but surprisingly, she catches it and throws it back at him. He barely catches it.

Baseball Shortshop Haechan x rival team's younger sister

smut, angst, comedic relief moments, surprise (?) twist at the end - making out and getting to second base on the literal second base, lots of taunting (re:sexual tension)

status: [lined up]

Dreaming (Answer Me in this Moment, You are My Melody's Interpretation, The Message Within)

Baseball player Na Jaemin wants to give up on the game. He feels exhausted, falling asleep in class, falling asleep in the dugout. But he makes one last commitment to the game, hoping that if they at least make it to the championships, he might like it again. KU's baseball team easily knocks out their competition, heading toward championships. And KU's sports journalist reports on the winning streak, going down the line up until finally meeting Jaemin. She tells him about all the things he already knows: his batting stats, his home run records, his mile time. Then, she makes him look at baseball from a new lens and suddenly he wants to slow down time and replay every game.

Baseball Catcher Na Jaemin x sports journalist reader

smut, fluff, non-romantic angst (?) - sex in the locker rooms, strangers to lovers, descriptions of burnout

status: [lined up]

Round&Round (Only Thoughts of You Hover In My Mind)

Baseball Player Liu Yangyang finds himself often distracted by the new announcer in the special press box, listening to the way she announces things more than he actually watches the game. He takes the chance, before championships, working up the courage, to talk to her. He walks up the creaky steps to the box and waits for her to get out. And while he waits, he finds an broken, old radio. He brings a gear forward and fiddles with the red and blue wires behind it. The radio sparks awake when she walks out of the room. And so do the sparks in his heart.

Second Baseman Liu Yangyang x sports announcer reader

smut, comedy, fluff - sex in the press box, mechanical engineering yangyang gets to be sexy, kind of hallmark-esque

status: [lined up]

Miracles (I Said, "Liberate Your Conscious")

Baseball Player Osaka Shotaro was scouted by KU for his wicked batting whip, but Mark, and their coach, is not as lenient. Shotaro is near failing biology (A D is still passing!! And his major is Dance). If he doesn't raise his grade to at least a B+, he might not even be allowed to play in the championships! So the "team tutor", or at least that's what they call her, a future high school teacher, tutors him after every practice, literally waiting for him on the bleachers so he has no excuse!

Baseball Third Baseman Osaki Shotaro x biology tutor reader

smut(?), fluff, comedy - dorm sex, very cliché, aversion to the easiest science because "it's boring"

status: [lined up]

#mia.txt #mark Lee smut #renjun smut #jeno smut #haechan smut #jaemin smut #shotaro smut #nct smut #about the baseball au

[tteokdoroki]

assistance please! | e.kirishima.

♡ pairing: eijirou kirishima x fem!reader.

♡ word count: 6.6K

♡ rating: mature, 18+, mdni.

♡ genre: workplace!au, internship!au, fluff + smut.

♡ summary: eijirou kirishima loved being an intern, he had great co-workers, had a shot at his dream job, his boss had taken quite liking to him and of course, being the favourite intern had many, many perks.

♡ warning(s): please read ! heavy smut,  ( kirishima is in his twenties ), power dynamics, sub top!kirishima + power bottom!reader,   heavy!praise kink, heavy!miss + mommy kink, unprotected sex ( wrap it before you tap it, kids ), oral ( female receiving ), squirting, tummy bulges, cumplay, creampie.

♡ author’s note(s): hihi everyone!! today i present to you my contribution to the bnharem on the job collab! i had a lot of fun playing with different dyanimics in this fic, i hope you enjoy it nonetheless!! make sure you chek out the other works from the other amazing creators!! <3

♡ masterlist | requests | kofi

“oi! ‘shima! you’re needed in the boss’ office right away, she’s got important business for ya!, wants t’have a word. now.”

eijirou ducks his head politely in a sign of gratitude, thanking his co-worker and superior, keigo— for the heads up. keigo, or better known as hawks around the office ( for his fast speeds in completing work and luring lonely interns into his bed ), was a nice guy— second to the lady in charge and way too chatty. he was a bit of an air head, got the job done when it needed to be but that’s what kirishima was for, the replacement while keigo took his vacation time in the middle of the year like an idiot.

he wasn’t too sure why you kept the blonde around, he supposed it was because he was pretty but eijirou wouldn’t dare question you— he needed this internship if he was going to make it big in the sports news reporting scene. he’d been majoring in sports and healthcare at college, two years away from graduating when the opportunity to work for yn ln, one of the biggest sports journalists in japan had landed right in his lap. of course he was going to take it, of course he was going to do everything he could not to fuck it up.

in the cubicles beside him, the other interns try to muffle their giggles and titters of curious laughter as the red head gathers himself for the meeting.

“oooo, i wonder what you did this time,” kaminari teases from the right, leaning over his side of the cubicle to fiddle with the odd bits on kirishima’s desk. denki kaminari was another person kirishima wondered how the hell he got into the programme, but then again he was pretty to look at and brought a lighter air to boring office days.

“nothing! i’m innocent!” eijirou defends, hands releasing his files to fly up in defence.

the other interns, going by the names of mina ashido, kyouka jirou and hanta sero snicker amongst themselves at the interaction.

“don’t believe it, s’obviously more than nothin’ if you’re always getting called down’ta the boss lady’s office.” bakugou, another intern, grunts out with his nose deep buried in files for upcoming reports. he was a little too rough for the journalism lifestyle but got the job done. his attitude wasn’t for everyone. “they’re probably fuckin’.”

mina giggles and kirishima steps out into the paths between desks. “don’t be such a sourpuss ‘suki, just ‘cause you’re not her favourite.”

a lose ‘shut up’ is huffed, before katsuki turns to face his taller, buffer companion. “just don’t be late, bunch of us are goin’ for lunch later.” he adds and turns back to his paperwork.

“affirmative, catch ya later!”

the group waves the red head off as he heads to the elevator directing him to the main floor— this is where all the higher ups worked. the journey wasn’t unfamiliar to the intern, he wasn’t like the others and had the steps to your office memorised by heart. sometimes it was like walking home, to his comfort and sanctuary away from the stressors of work and the outside world— he knew that was bad, but you were so kind, such a sweet and understanding boss he couldn’t help but develop some level of comfort towards you.

to most, it seemed like eijirou kirishima was just unbelievably close to his boss, that you’d taken him under your wing.

he however, knew what you had, meant more.

a fluttering warmth spreads across the intern’s chest as he approaches the door to your main office and he knocks. behind it lay mountains of secrets upon secrets, things that kirishima knows about you that no one else does. the walls have hidden words, written across them in fonts of passion and admiration and it’s all that he can think about. you’re all that he can think about, and it’s still wrong. there’s a shuffling deep in the room and some flitters of paper here and there before your soft, velveteen voice breaks through the barrier between you. the one thing keeping you apart.

“come in,” you call smoothly and kirishima follows your orders swiftly, if not eagerly, entering the four walls of your office. ruby eyes dart across the room to locate your position and his heart skips a beat when he finds you, body leaning over your dark oak desk, papers scattered across it while you frantically sift through numbers and stocks and nonsense way above the level of a journalism intern. but even amongst the chaos, you’re beautiful— eyes sparkling with productivity, lined in little flecks across the colour of your orbs. the way you dress never fails to steal away eijirou’s breath— a tight fitting leather skirt that hugs your mature curves and a white blouse with the bottoms popped open— just enough for him to get a peek at your cleavage.

the poor intern has to hold himself back from blurring the lines of work and pleasure to shove himself deep into your chest, suck and lick at your plush breasts until he was high off the taste of your skin. but he wouldn’t do that, yet. not without your permission. “oh eiji baby, there you are!” you coo to the red head, bright smile stretching across blood diamond painted lips. you cross the room in three short strides, tall black heels clacking against the smooth white marble until you’re standing in front of and looking up at kirishima. “was starting to think keigo had ditzed like a pretty boy and had forgotten to send you my way, darling.”

eijirou’s cheeks flame at the smoothness in your syrupy voice, like sweet honey to his hears, the pet name striking a familiar heat deep within him. you always had a way with your words— enticing, almost like a siren calling out to him despite the taboo aura that surrounded what you had. whatever it was— he just knew it was more than your typical boss-intern relationship.

“even if he had, ‘m more than happy to be of service to you ma’am,” he responds almost a little too quickly, large hand rubbing the back of his neck and tugging at his baby hairs to ground himself.

you cock your head, eyes sparkling with mischief. “always such a helpful, good boy eijirou,” you hum, lips pulling into a devilish red smile and the praise causing a new spark of lustful electricity to crackle through the air. “i could use a little assistance, please, i have this awful meeting with the board today, spent all night preparing and couldn’t go home, i could use some stress relief,”

kirishima’s gaze becomes hooded as he looks down at you, a familiar and bright desire burning in the pits of his stomach. “oh yeah? sucks that the paperwork kept you up all night ma’am…” he trails off, choosing to let his fingers dance up and down your sides— snaking an arm around your waist to pull you into him. you couldn’t or you wouldn’t go home. he’s not sure if he cares about the answer right now— not when you tremble in his grip, itching for something, anything from him. “how long do you reckon we have ms. ln?”

“ten to fifteen minutes sweetheart, give or take,”

you grin widens, taking an impossibly closer step to your intern— pressing the swell of your breasts against his hard chest. he can feel your nipples pebbling through your blouse, almost visible behind the white fabric and god the way you look up at him— he can no longer wait, he needs you. right here and right now.

“will you be needing my assistance throughout, ma’am?” kirishima asks, voice dropping a few octaves until it falls into a low growl.

“i expect it. you are my intern after all.”

the words laced with deep huskiness, the proximity of your bodies and the rising heat in the room is what leads you both to tumble into the next series of events. before he can’t register it, your mouths are slotted together in a fast paced and sloppy kiss, kirishima’s body manoeuvres you around the office, marking out a familiar pathway to your desk—his tongue remains sliding over yours in rapid movements as he commits your taste to memory, refreshing those from the last time he had you like this. yet every time you kiss and his tongue glides over yours, you taste sweeter than before; like peaches and morning coffee— you feel softer in his grip, every dip and curve to your body like it was built for him.

eijirou can't stop thinking of that last time, tucked away in your office after dark when your dainty hands pawed desperately at his hips to bring him closer or scratched at his back from sheer pleasure— kirishima wants to see you like that against, using his own hands to tear through your shirt and send buttons flying across the room. something in him just wants to do good for you, have you ache for him and earn himself some of your sweet praise. even as you step and stumble towards your work desk, the red-head lets his lips break away from yours, connected by a string of your own saliva before he drops to your neck, lapping tracks over your skin with the temptation to bite down and paint it shades of deep purple and blue.

but there are rules that you both have in place; ways to keep what you have a secret and hidden away from the public eye so that you don’t lose all that you’ve worked for and so kirishima can keep being your precious little intern.

“jump for me, please ma’am,” he whispers heavily into the junction between your neck and your shoulders, breath laboured and warm against your skin that begins to shine with light perspiration. mindlessly, you follow his orders, jumping up while your fingers curl into the mass of red on kirishima’s head and ankles lock around his waist—his hands meet the backs of your doughy thighs, squeezing the flesh between calloused digits while you toe off your heels.

“eiji, you’re so good,” you manage between feather light breaths as they clatter to the floor as the pair of you somehow make your way to the desk chair, pushing and tearing the clothes from one another’s bodies— including your crisp shirt. now seated and left in nothing but your bra, you tug harshly at your intern’s locks and bring his mouth down to yours, allowing them to move together in a dirty, messy kiss. there’s barely any time for you both to mess around, for him to tease you until your limit and you’re crying out for any type of touch from him, so eijirou quickly

flips down your bra, exposing your chest to cool, air conditioned air—not even bothering to unclip the material as his fingers descend on your nipple, pulling and twisting them until your back arches from the stimulation. “hurry, please eijirou,”

obedient as ever, your favourite boy drops to his knees in front of the chair you stay slumped in and with his height, he still manages to tower over you, practically at eye level with hunger framing the ruby of his own. large hands knead at your plush thighs, hiking your skirt up and up to give you room to spread your thighs, cunt growing sticky from anticipation— all from a few measly touches in familiar places. but this is kirishima, and he knows how your body works from countless hours spent after the office closes up— using one another to blow off extra steam. he knows just what makes you tick and moan his name.

logically, eijirou knows that your meeting could start at any minute and even though you’re both in a stickler for time, he still wants to get a taste at your skin before devouring your most intimate parts. he’ll make time to explore every part of you, to assist you in your stress relief. “‘m sorry miss, yn,” he whines needily, watching your chest rise and fall with want, feeling your body heat up and twitch from the ghost of his fingertips across your blemished skin. “gotta have a taste of you before the real deal, hope’ya don’t mind…”

latching onto the left mound of flesh at your exposed chest, kirishima sinks the point of his teeth into the area around your nipple— just enough to graze your skin and pull a sweet mewl from your mouth. you’re both lucky for the soundproof walls, your head thrown back in a lewd moan he lets his pink tongue roll over your bud in vicious circles. heavy, fat globs of saliva pool over the pink muscle, pouring down kirishima’s chin and painting your skin with a slick shine. “h-how...how could i mind angel, not when you treat me s’good,” you heave, vision fading in and out due to the overwhelming amount of pleasure flashing through your body in waves of hotness. “always doin’ so well for me eiji, aren’t you such a good boy?”

“yes ma’am,” the intern confirms with a erogenous slur, pacified and content on his knees for you— sucking, licking and biting at your chest to his heart’s content. “‘m your good boy,” he corrects you, however. eijirou feels most happy when grazing his tongue over the swell of your breasts, watching your face carefully for any twitches of delirium, it lets him know how hot aroused he makes you feel— that knowledge shoots straight to his cock, rock hard in his slacks while the redhead watches his boss writhe in her seat all for his eyes only.

such a dazzling view, and it’s all for fucking him.

your perfectly manicured nails run through red hair, scratching deliciously at his scalp until you’re forcing his head back and pulling kirishima off of your breast with a pop. “as much as i love seeing a pretty boy suck on my tits like a baby, we’re pressed for time angel, gonna need you to speed it up a little,” despite the softness to your face and the sudden evenness to the tone of your voice, the words that you speak to eijirou are vulgar, nasty, and turn him on to his wits end. “want you to eat me out eiji, can you do that for me?”

shaking his head, yes, beautiful claret eyes shining with acquiescence, kirishima wipes the spit from his chin with the back of his hand— like the tainted, dirty intern he is. you sigh down at him salaciously, ready to tear his innocence apart all over again. eijirou was always so willing to please, both in his work and behind closed doors— you would be a fool to not take advantage of that. with brute force, your intern forces your legs apart, eyes rolling back in his skull from the scent of your sex, dripping with your juices right through your underwear and stockings. overexcited, he rips through the flimsy material at your cunt, exposing your panties for him to see.

“you’re so...so wet ms.ln,” kirishima comments observantly, not even bothering to pull your stockings the rest of the way down your legs, instead opting to pull on the whole until it’s wide enough for his mouth to fit. “smell s’good, bet you taste even better,” there’s a patch on the crotch of your panties, darker than the rest of the material from where you leak and without a second thought, the red head instantly surges forward to lick a stripe over it, letting out a choked gripe as the taste of your cream from over the fabric invades his tongue.

you let out a shrill cry, hips jumping up at the first brush of his tongue against your untouched, clothed pussy. you wriggle even as kirishima holds you down, needing the heat of his mouth against you before your meeting starts. but he’s so good, so well trained, reaching up to your hips to yank your panties down in one fluid motion. leaning forward, kirishima savagely buries his face between your doughy thighs, hiking them over his shoulders from beneath the desk. his nose bumps against your clit, swollen from the lack of touch as he greedily inhales your scent once more— without warning, the intern kicks a stripe up the length of your pussy, sucking your juices into his mouth and smiling against your heat.

“d-don’t tease baby, be good for me,” you remind kirishima, your body trembles with anticipation, craving an orgasm to expel the stress of your work days out. the boy between your legs only hums, the sound running straight though cunt and vibrating against it, causing you to gush and spill your arousal out onto the leather seat beneath your cheeks. eijirou feasts on the slick that seeps from your fluttering hole, gliding his tongue up and down your sex, allowing the occasional pressure from his nose to stimulate your bundle of nerves.

the pads of his thighs burn marks into your legs, using them as leverage to pull your heated core further into his mouth, “can’t help it ma’am, y’got such a pretty pussy...s’only right that i worship you…” eijirou breaths right against your puffy folds, eyes trained on the way your hole clenches around nothing. a primal urge flares in his chest, a desire— no, a need— to see you filled with something, any part of him that can make you see stars and fuck you dumb. “‘m sorry, ‘m sorry you jus look s’fucking pretty miss…”

attaching his lips to your clit, the redhead pushes the spit gathered on his tongue right over your sloppy sit, hazy ruby stare watching as his saliva mixes with your juices and slides over your empty hole. he follows the oozing trail with his tongue, lapping it up and spewing it back into your sex until the pink muscle slips past your entrance— slipping inside of you with no prior warnings. your knuckles that grasp the arms of the chair as you’re spoiled between your legs by your top intern, his hands snaking their way around the tops of your thighs to spread your sticky pussy lips apart in order to bring more of you to the cool air of the office.

“you like this don’cha? dirty little boy,” you tease the poor boy, watching as his cheeks flame with embarrassment. “being a naughty little intern between your boss’ thighs all to keep on pleasing  her, keep your position at her company, huh? fuck eiji, you just love miss riding your naughty tongue—ohmygod—“

the way you sound, voice smooth like chocolate over the obscene slurping that fills the thats air heavy with the scent of sex and, makes eijirou’s cock jump up, precum oozing from his tip as he begins to rut against the hard floor beneath your desk. he makes an attempt to respond, but your thighs lock his head in place and his words come out muffled against your core. “mph, luh it, you’re s’sexy, please ma’am—“ he mumbles sordidly against you, practically humping the ground at your feet as you pick on him.

for a brief moment, kirishima pulls away to watch you roll your hips into nothing, hot tears beginning to brew into our hooded eyes from the satisfaction he brings you with every flick and flit of his tongue against where you need him most. written in your eyes is the command to keep going, your hands twistingly sharply in red roots to bring the intern back to your sluice, spasming cunt. so he does as he’s told, shoving his tongue deep inside your ribbed, iron hot walls and dragging tip along them to collect and taste strings of your viscous juices.

biting your lip, you do your best to hold back a voracious howl, bucking your hips feverishly into your intern’s face and staining his cheeks with everything that you have— he thrusts his tongue into you to the pace of your own hips, moaning against your slippery slit until your eyes are rolling. “gonna cum from this eiji, from you eatin’ me out like this...jus need a little more— need your fingers pretty boy,” you can feel the twist of the knot in your lower tummy starting to unravel, signifying your oncoming high, and the room starts to spin while kirishima eats you out with new vigour.

“yeah? miss? you’re gonna cum for me?” the intern practically whines and pulls his tongue from your hear, almost crying as his hips thump against the floor desperate for friction. “wanna see you come undone s’bad, please cum for me, please, please—“ eijirou chants, replacing his tongue with two of his thick digits, watching as your slick cunt stretches around them accommodatingly. he jackhammers them inside of you, grunting lowly underneath the slaps of his palm against the meat of your ass, as he returns to your clit to suckle on it hungrily. his fingers curl instantly in search for the spongy spot inside of you— bearing down hard against it once it’s located.

“oh—hah, right there baby— right fuckin’ there—!” you squeal, only egging him on as white starts to cloud your vision, everything sounds so nasty and wet, while eijirou stimulates both of your pleasure spots. it becomes hard to breath, legs wobbling around his broad shoulders, but your intern doesn’t let up, determined to bring you to cloud nine.

“that’s it ma’am, right there—you’re almost there, can feel you clenching around my fingers...please cum, fuck i want your cum, wanna taste you so bad, cum. cum. cum!” and that’s all it takes, eijirou’s pleading voice between your thick thighs to make the coil inside you snap and for your orgasm to wash over you. you convulse in your chair, nectar gushing freely from your raw and overstimulated cunt, spewing all over the redheads face as he continued to lap at your clit to ride out your high.

but he doesn’t stop there, scissoring his fingers deep within your velvet walls as you continue to cum, making you shake your head and wail from the high levels of ecstasy.

“please eiji—n’more, can’t, no—“

“you can miss, i know you can—fuck you look so pretty when you’re about to squirt for me, please…”

as quickly as your first high ended, another one comes crashing over you in harsh waves— rocking your world as clear liquid floods from your pussy— the sheer force of you squirting, pushing kirishima’s fingers out from your tight, sappy hole. your release hits the floor with a crude slap, both of you moaning loudly almost for the whole world to hear. he doesn’t stop sucking, clearing up your pretty cunt even as you fade in and out of consciousness from pleasure— he stays lapping at you with burning, languid strokes of his tongue between your folds even as you weakly attempt to answer the phone now ringing from your desk.

clearing your throat, you muster up the strength to sound professional over the line before picking up the phone and bringing it towards your ear. “good afternoon, this is yn ln of shinku sports reports, bringing you the latest sporting news, how may i help you?”

‘this is the board, we need to discuss this month's stocks and reports.’

from the corner of your eye, you can see kirishima rise from his place underneath your desk— standing tall over you once more while you converse with the directors on the other end of the phone. as quietly as he can, the redhead tears through the buttons on his shirt in a similar way to you, prior to you fucking and unbuckles his slacks. he pulls down his boxers and pants in one go, revealing his thick, hard girth that stands tall and slaps against his stomach— tip an angry shade of red as precum smears across his lower belly.

you nod into the phone, forgetting that the board can’t see you as kirishima lifts you from the chair and lays you on your back across the desk littered with unread papers. “ah yes, i’ve been expecting a call from you…” you whisper so quietly instead, not caring if they’ve missed what you said. you’re hardly paying attention, choosing to wrap a fist around eijirou’s cock, slickly pumping him to prepare him to take you— he parts your thighs, eyes closing and body shuddering above you while you continue to converse with the board.

spreading the droplets of precum across his slit and iron hot tip, kirishima takes his cock from your grasp— heavily slapping it against your sensitive and swollen clit to see you jolt up the desk. “gonna fuck you so good miss, jus’ be good ‘n stay quiet for me okay?” he says, a whimper catching in the tail end of his words. you nod to him, rushed and way too eager, laying your head back on the hard wood your swimming gaze settles on kirishima as he taps the head of his cock against your hole, teasingly pushing it just past your entrance before withdrawing again.

‘ms. ln, are you still there? we really are pressed for time so we would love to start by discussing interviews for the next issue—‘

you forget that you’re still connected on the line, settling for wriggling impatiently underneath your intern, who’s caramel tinted skin glistens with sweat and his cheeks begin to flush with unadulterated desire— all from watching the way your puffy folds lube up his shaft with every push through them. you can see him losing his resolve, just as sensitive as you since he’s been holding back an orgasm and without the hint of a warning, eijirou’s hips jump forward and drive his cock into the deepest parts of your sex— brushing against your cervix. you gasp out in surprise, finally losing focus and barely manage a more comprehensive response to the board you have waiting on the line. “y-yes!— yes, yes, i’m still here… you may proceed with the meeting.”

he’s big, bigger than anyone you’ve ever had— and you’d seen a lot being a woman of your caliber this high up in the industry...but no one could compare to the way your sweet, doe eyed gentlemanly little intern filled you up, fat cock stretching your walls even with the shallow thrusts into your cunt he gives you to adjust. the weight of his girth sits heavily inside you, twitching as kirishima slides into you easily due to the stickiness lining your gummy walls, breath shaky and uneven as he holds out for you during this time. you can tell the poor boy isn’t going to last long, fingers sinking into your thighs with a harsh grip while he tries to hold himself back.

such a good boy, always waiting for your every command.

‘so we’d like to talk about the main feature for next month’s issue, do you have anyone in mind?’

the monotone voice of the board member is drowned about by kirishima’s shaky breaths above you, his pleading puppy dog eyes while he stills himself inside your spasming, puckered hole— he waits for permission, following orders like a trained pet even though he can hardly stand it, overwhelmed by the flutter of your sex around him and heat from your body despite thrown over the desk. “y-you’re s’warm...god ma’am...need to—need to move,” the redhead huffs weakly in order to keep himself quiet, a line of sweat dotting his brow. “please,”

you sit up on the desk, legs locking around his slender waist to draw him closer, sheathing more of the poor boy inside of you until he’s completely bottomed out and balls deep inside your pretty cunt. he drops his neck to your shoulder, tongue lolling over your salt licked skin before biting down to pacify himself, sharp teeth almost drawing blood while you adjust the cord of the phone. “i was thinking…thinking that we got the hockey player— the oylmpic champion…” your eyes drift to kirishima’s complacent face, giving him a nod to start moving while he sucks another bruise further down his onto your collarbone. “t-touya...touya todoroki—!”

you hiccup but play it off with a cough when kirishima pulls back his hips, so far that his girth completely leaves you, before he drives himself forward with one powerful thrust and fills you right up again. looking down, you see him bulge in your tummy, the line of his girth prominent against your body— slightly dwarfed in kirishima’s arms. you rock your hips, coaxing your intern into your warmth to help him build up a momentum of thrusts.

‘sounds like a good choice, do we have anyone who could interview him? i believe we can have PR set up an interview this week.’

the desk creaks below you, hard wood groaning along with the red head who hides himself in your neck, squeaking pathetically as he moves inside of you— precum smearing along your gummy walls that welcome his hardened shaft. your pussy opens up for eijirou like it’s welcoming him home, still growing used to the pleasure-filled burn and stretch of him pushing in and out of you. the nerves on his head catch amongst your inner ridges, making his toned body shake in ecstasy.

“m-ma’am, feel s’fucking good, so fucking good...” your intern hums against your salty skin mawkishly, large palms dropping to the flesh of your ass— kneading it to bring you closer to his body— cock barely leaving you due to your proximity. with slow strokes, eijirou fills you up, painting you with what leaks from his tip— prodding at your cervix and brushing up against your sweet spot in ways that make sweet nectar dribble from your hole.

your digits curl in his hair once more, the phone slipping from between your neck and creating rustling on your end. “eijirou,” you sigh breathily, humping back his cock while you squeeze around him selfishly, keeping your intern inside of you. “i-i mean eijirou kirishima, he’s an intern— such a… a good one at that…”

a immodest whimper brews in the base of eijirou’s throat, bubbling against his bruised lips  while you shower him with praise, indirect to him, hand snaking up to the back of your neck— tangling in your baby hairs as he pulls you up to a sloppy kiss, slotting your mouths together and running his tongue over yours. “f-fuck mommy, ‘m i your good boy? please tell me yes, fuck, yn— ma’am,”

kirishima’s voice rises in octave as it does devoir and pathos, vulnerability stays written across his handsome features as he succumbs to the mind break the heat of your damp, creamy core as he fucks into you. you throb at his use of mommy, shakily pulling the phone away from your ear to reach up to his own, nipping the earlobe and tugging on it gently. “you’re my good boy baby, keep being good eiji, be quiet...you gotta stay quiet if you want to keep fucking mommy okay? you wanna cum inside me right?” you say, words aberrant and low toned  on your tongue, your intern hisses and whines in response— nodding his head again and letting out a barely coherent ‘yes’. “then shh, baby, let mommy talk yeah?”

“hm’kay,” he babbles, dropping his ruby framed gaze to where your bodies meet, hiking your skirt further up your thighs to get a better view of your cunt staining his heavy balls with a layer of your slick.

‘ms. ln, are you sure that you want an intern to cover this case—’ the board begins to ask you, muffled from the distance away from you both.

picking up the phone again, you pull the line towards you again— mindful of capturing eijirou’s weak little mewls over the device as he languidly pumps himself in and out of you. “i know what i—fuck, what i want. eijirou, will be—oh— on the case. that's final.” you huff, watching your intern fall into a pussyhaze, his precious mind fogging with thoughts of only painting you white inside and out as a reward for helping relieve you of stress. the slow roll of his hips into yours are accompanied by the soft slaps of his skin against your own, wet and sticky— determination to make you feel good crackling across his mind.

‘there’s no need to curse, ma’am, do you need a moment to recollect yourself before we proceed with discussing the other features.’

“i’m fucking fine,” you growl, in anger or need you don’t know. but kirishima frowns, you can feel it as he start nosing up your cheek— swiping his tongue over areas of skin he hasn’t touched just yet— he grunts possessively , unhappy with the use of your title coming from anyone other than him. to prove his point, he pushes your thighs wider apart, letting you drip all over the documents sitting below your ass and ruining the ink— important or not he starts a brutal pace into your cunt and presses down on your tummy so you can feel exactly where eijirou is inside you and know that only he can make you feel this way.

‘ms.ln—‘

“i’m fine. keep going.” you grit your teeth, biting your lip to hold down your panting— again you don’t know who you’re speaking to. your intern who slows the movement of his hips, postponing in and out of your tightened hole, clamping down on him eagerly or the stupid board member giving you grief on the phone.

they proceed to talk, barking out suggestions to your sports magazine, that you hate— even considering bringing in good for nothing athletes who’d treated you like shit in the past, and you’d sworn to never work for them again.

but it’s almost silly, how kirishima lets out small moans of mommy and ma’am, trying to keep your attention on him like you would give up grinding down on your intern’s dick for some prissy member of the board over the phone— but you love the slight possession eijirou has over you, moulding your iron hot walls into the shape of his fat dick that presses up against your pleasure spots, makes you convulse and drawl and become addicted to everything that is him. eijirou kirishima.

“takin’ me so good, so well ma’am...don’t think i can hold on anymore…please,” eijirou warns you, losing control of his body as he takes you for his own like he’s done many times before after hours— your gazes lock, you can see his desperation to ruin you, moan for you despite the people on the phone and the people outside your office.

if he grows too loud, he could give you away— they could be listening in to your poor needy little intern humping you like a feral dog and whining your name. and as much as that thought makes your hole spasm around his fat cock, make his thrusts stutter and eyes screw shut while you moan in sweet, almost silent harmony, you love your job and so weakly, you take two of your fingers, shoving them deep into eijirou’s mouth as it hangs open in heavy pants of warm air. you press down on his wet tongue, fucking into his mouth in tune with the pace of his hips plunging deep within your walls, churning up your syrupy and sticky insides.

“keep quiet, baby,”  you hiss to the redhead, who’s eyes start to brim with fresh hot tears from the overwhelming pleasure. “let mommy take care of this, yeah? finish up so you can let it all out on me.”

he sucks on your fingers to calm himself down, shallow breathing while he paws at the flesh on your sides and circles his hips into yours— letting his leaky tip bare down on your sweet spot and forcing the air out of your body. white hot pleasure flashes through your bloodstream, replacing any air of professionalism flooding through them. you can’t, you physically cannot hold back either of your orgasms— you can’t concentrate as your mind starts to fall away with the world and your gaze hones in on the way kirishima takes your fingers in his hot mouth so deep in an attempt to hush himself.

the coil in your tummy begins to unwind and the room swims once more. ‘ms.ln is everything okay over there— we need to progress with his meeting if we’re—‘ the annoying board member sounds underneath kirishima’s sloppy groans, saliva dribbling down the sides of his mouth. your dirty, good boy.

“i’m going to need to take a rain—hah— a rain check on this meeting. you’ll hear from me when my interns and i are ready—“ you huff, cutting the staff off and quickly throwing the phone onto the hook, you’ll have keigo deal with the consequences later but for now you focus on kirishima who picks you up by the ass, lifting you up and down on his cock in frantic movements as he finally loses all connections to his control. “ohmygod—eiji baby, slow—fuck, down—“

he shakes his head, latching onto your collar bone as he revels in the way you leak down his shaft and drip between his balls, lewd squelching sounds fluttering through the air hot, sex scented air at full volume. “‘m sorry ma’am— i can’t… i’m really close, i really need’ta cum...please ma’am...mommy, i’ve been good—please let me cum...“ eijirou groans heartily, from deep in his chest as if he’s finally releasing what he’s been holding back— arms flexing and the sweat from his body slicking up your own.

limbs shaking you wrap your arms around his shoulders and press your foreheads against one another, while you nod. he worked so hard to make you feel good, all day long to do the best job that he can— pressing small kisses to his lips encouragingly. “you can do it baby, one last thing for me— fill me up eiji, cum for me.” you whisper between bites and sucks on his lower lip, lined with a vibrant shade of red.

“cummin’, cummin’...miss yn, mommy—!” and then his hips come to a halt, his dick pulsing as waves of his cream line your insides with an opaque white, thick and seeping down your thighs. his fingers drop to your sensitive cunt, slipping quick circles over your swollen clit to bring you to your high. his cock never stops pumping in and out of you, pushing his seed further into your sex while you writhe and fall over the edge into your orgasm— gushing so hard you force him out of plugged and full hole.

losing his strength, kirishima collapses on top of you, pressing out both to the hard wood seat which you’re surprised  is still standing, his lips pressing fleeting kisses across your face and neck while you both come back down to earth.

and then he looks up at you with a weak smile, “did i do good?” he asks you lazily and almost sleepily— refusing to budge from laying atop you and almost crushing you with his weight.

pushing back his hair to soothe him. “always eiji, you’re not my favourite intern for nothing,” you coo at him, pulling him up to press your lips to him in a soft kiss.

“i sure hope you don’t have any other favourites, i want to be the only one who assists you like this,” kirishima says, remaining tangled with you for a moment more in your office, content with snuggling into your exposed and bruised side.

you share a sleepy giggle, intending to clean up later— eijirou completely forgetting about the lunch he’d promised the other interns after your meeting.

oh well, assisting you was a much better treat than spending time with any one else.

#tteokdoroki #bnhacity #kirishima #bnha x you #bnha x reader #bnha smut #bnha imagines #bnha fic #bnha fanfic #mha x you #mha x reader #mha smut #mha fanfiction #mha fanfic #mha fic #kirishima x reader #kirishima x you #kirishima imagine #kirishima smut #bnha fanfiction #kirishima scenarios #kirishima fanfic #kirishima headcanon #kirishima eijirou #eijirou kirishima smut #kirishima eijiro smut #kirishima eijiro x reader #eijirou kirishima imagine #kirishima eijiro headcanons #eijiro kirishima x reader

[mizutori-heiko]

Mizutori’s bakudeku fanfiction master list [complete works]

Really really good writing by these incredible authors. In no particular order! These are all Top!Bakugou and Bottom!Deku. If A/B/O dynamics then it’s Alpha!Bakugou and Omega!Deku. Yes, I have preferences.

Canon World – until 15k

What The Fuck Did You Just Call Me? by reading_raindrop | 8,303 | Izuku starts calling him Bakugou and it pisses the explosive teen off a lot more than he thought it would.

Oh right, you were a little sh*t by SaysiWrites | 5,653 | When Midoriya Izuku gets hit by an age-reversion Quirk, the last thing anyone expected to find out is that Toddler-Izuku is a little shit. Except for one Bakugou Katsuki, who has seen this phase one too many times already. (Bonus+ the entire Little Sh*t (Kidfic) series)

Do Not Disturb by surveycorpsjean | 10,010 | Apply enough force, and something is bound to break.

And Atlas fell by supercrunch | 15,185 | They move in together, after a while. Katsuki joins Best Jeanist and Izuku trains under Gran Torino. They still take comfort in each other every day, curl up in bed and kiss and talk about how life is going. Their live are tumultuous, after all, what with villains and training and rescuing people every week. It’s nice to have something certain. At the end of a day filled with violence and adrenaline, Izuku knows he can come home to someone concrete. It’s perfect. Being a hero is scary and grueling and uncertain, but this part is just right. And then, one day, a child dies in Izuku’s arms.

be loved by bonnia | 5,403 | The kidnapping incident leaves bakugou traumatised about being touched on the back of his neck, and midoriya decides to take matters into his own hands.

Big Protein by Mysecretfanmoments | 13,683 | Bakugou Katsuki has a thriving hero career, an agent to manage his famous attitude, and absolutely zero romantic interest in anyone. With the exception of his favourite health food joint refusing to expand to his city, his life is pretty damn perfect—so why does a viral video revealing Deku's stash of dirty mags involving him and Deku together turn everything upside-down?

Chocolate cake and resin preserved flowers by Anoksun | 11,396 | Izuku loses his memories. Katsuki struggles not to lose Izuku too.

Twin Stars by theperksofbeinglarissa | 8,435 | When Deku saves a woman's life, her quirk is accidentally activated. Her quirk? She reveals a person's soulmate. A star-shaped mark appears on Midoriya's left arm... and on Bakugou's as well. Kirishima is the only one who knows that Bakugou is Midoriya's soulmate, and Bakugou isn't taking the news very well. Can the twin stars of class 1-A work out their differences and find their happy ending?

Unhealthy Fixations by Thesis | 12,522 | Izuku is an adult who knows better than to crush on his childhood bully. AND YET.

Like the Moon by osakakitty | 14,781 | Katsuki Bakugo is having constant, erotic dreams about Izuku Midoriya. He isn’t sure why, but they won’t go away. In order to make them stop, he needs to figure out what Izuku Midoriya means to him.

Worth a Second Shot by cinnabee | 13,080 | Katsuki and Izuku celebrate registering as a Hero Duo together with a big party. What could go wrong?

Like Something Out of A Shoujo Manga by Merrywetherweather | 2,971 | Deku ends up in a rather interesting quirk accident, one that triggers flag events as if he were the protagonist of an otome game.

Canon World – 15k++

Blood Moon by lalazee | 94,860 | The Thank-Fuck-We-Aren’t-Dead Sex had started then, and had never really stopped. Then came the feelings and the fights. The ego, the pride, the jealousy. And then there was Us.

The Way You Used To Do by edema_ruh | 669,463 | During a battle, Midoriya gets hit by a villain whose quirk detaches his soul from his body. Stuck in a ghost-like state, the boy enters a race against time in order to save himself from permanently dying. Much to his luck - or lack of it -, the only person who can see and talk to him in this state is no one other than Kacchan.

Just Like Breathing by MD_Daydreamer | 35,423 | Izuku got engaged. He didn't mind. If that made Uraraka happy, he could do it. He thought his life wouldn't change much.But then, Kacchan went to live in the USA.

briar roses (and hundred years of sleep) by vannral | 15,951 | In which Izuku is hit by a ‘Sleeping Beauty’ Quirk, Class 3-A tries to find his True Love and get them to kiss him, and Katsuki’s very angry about it all.

"what's your type?" by sapphicflower | 20,192 | In order to increase their popularity rankings as up and coming pro heroes, Izuku and Katsuki participate in the most popular late night talk show for hero duos - ‘Heroes Rising!’. They’re killing it, obviously, because they know each other from inside and out. Until one question stumps the two of them: “What is your hero partner’s type?”

and it was Just Right by cinnabee | 23,759 | Katsuki spends two years post-graduation in a furious one-sided competition with his childhood friend and rival's promotional photos - until they finally run into each other, and, well. You shouldn't believe everything you see in magazines. A love story about size differences.

Notice Me, Nerd by useless_donut | 40,000 | Bakugou is in love with Midoriya. He doesn’t hide it, in fact it’s so painfully obvious that the entire class of 3-A has him figured out in a matter of months (days, in some cases). Too bad Midoriya is the most oblivious motherfucker out there, and Bakugou is too damn stubborn to actually ask him out. A love story as witnessed by the class of 3-A.

in your dreams, nerd! by sapphicflower | 37,639 | In a strange and unexpected set of circumstances, Izuku and Katsuki find themselves sharing their dreams together whenever they happen to fall asleep at the same time. Being hopelessly in love with each other, they don’t mind it all that much. What better way to spend time with your crush than in a stupidly vivid dream?

Hear Me by my_name_is_Levi | 22,419 | It wasn’t as if nightmares were uncommon for the freshman class of Yuuei. They’d seen plenty of things, heard and felt and witnessed enough travesty in their lives to last them a lifetime. But Midoriya Izuku was screaming, and no one, not even Bakugo Katsuki could ignore it.

Bridges by supercrunch | 18,018 | Bakugou is signed up for a Calvin Klein modeling gig. The thing is, they really do need the money. And Katsuki's technically the leader of this bunch of morons, so he finds himself taking the job even though his pride will never recover. And even though nobody thought to tell him that he'd be working with his ex-boyfriend. You know, the cute freckled guy from high school who went and broke his heart. So, yeah. This whole situation kind of sucks.

objective truth by mamalade | 15,390 | Izuku gets hit with a truth quirk, as one does. He seems to be handling it well—until Katsuki shows up.

catharsis by dollcewrites | 15,071 | It's been six years since Izuku graduated.It's been six years since he confessed to his childhood friend; his classmate and his inspiration. It's been six years since he deleted Bakugou's number, asked his friends not to mention the name, spent every last effort of his heart turning off the TV and averting his eyes from the newspapers. It's been six, long, long years since he gave up on Katsuki Bakugou ever loving him back.

Here here, my friends and me (You are my familia) by Jeka | 128,832 | Bakugou Katsuki has made a great job of ignoring the fact that he is tragically in love with Deku, someone who could never love him like that and let's face it, he doesn't deserve. Now that he can't ignore it anymore, he has to find a way to keep his childhood friend and move on for his own sake. Or so he had thought, maybe he can have Deku, after all. Izuku has everything he always wanted in life. But suddenly he has to navigate the most important relationship in his life through different eyes.

Canon World – Jealous! 

Hands Off by SaysiWrites | 7,140 | When a new girl at school starts flirting with Bakugou, his friends quickly become invested in the idea of their friend experiencing love - even if he doesn't seem at all interested in her. What they don't see is Midoriya fuming in the background. But how can he get rid of her when they've spent so long keeping their relationship a secret?

Surfaces by surveycorpsjean | 25,225 | Katsuki has a new girlfriend, but something isn't right. As impossible as it is, Izuku can't help but wonder what it'd be like to be called Katsuki's girl.

Green-Eyed Beast by SecretKiwi | 4,721 | Everyone wants a piece of Katsuki Bakugou, but they should beware of the Green-eyed beast always lurking close behind him.

Green with Envy by Sol_Morales707 | 2,611 | Izuku Midoriya is not as innocent and pure as everyone thinks he is. The truth was he was very jealous and willing to do anything for a certain blonde.

Happy Camper by Arysa | 7,074 | Wanting a break from the stress of dealing with the rookie Pro Hero grind, a handful of students from Class A decide to go on a camping trip. Izuku's excited to relax and catch up with everyone, especially Kacchan. But, well, Kacchan's... Kacchan. And dating Kirishima.

How to stop time: kiss by Teddingtons | 31,693 | Deku finally asks Uraraka out. Everyone's supportive except Bakugou who can't even look him in the eye. Deku seeks him out after and is hit with truth.

What I Deserve by s_the_queen | 16,671 | When Izuku starts dating a student in General Studies, everyone is happy for him. She's super sweet and really caring. But something doesn't sit right with Katsuki.

Deku's Already Fucking Taken by asdfjkl129 | 20,704 | 5 times people don't realize that Deku is already in a very happy relationship and try their hand at asking him out, and then in Bakugou's unique and special style, get very firmly corrected, +1 time where no correction is needed.

His by sister_elric | 6,206 | Izuku would like to consider himself a pretty level headed individual. Sure, he had the occasional tunnel vision, especially when it came to training. And hero work. And Kacchan. But, overall, Midoriya felt as though he typically kept his cool. Well, maybe that was a stretch. But, at the very least he could understand his own emotions. So, it surprised even him when an unfamiliar emotion coursed through him as a first year approached his boyfriend, Katsuki.

Down the Red Line by MinervaHope | 7,804 | Izuku has been able to see the red strings of fate since birth. It's no surprise that his is connected to Katsuki.

Canon World – Fake Relationship Goes Wrong

how he should’ve known (and how it turned out) by vannral | 43,918 | In which Katsuki and Izuku pretend to be a couple to avoid journalists, the plan backfires magnificently because of course it does, and the act goes on. Includes feelings, pining, domestic fluff and jealousy.

Vicious by feelslikefire | 105,173 | Midoriya and Bakugou wind up in the very last position either of them thought they'd be in: Hero Partners. It's not fun, but they learn to cope. Their first big assignment together takes them undercover to infiltrate a cult, but the situation turns out far more sinister than they first thought.

What I can never tell you by Mikacrispy | 27,067 | After living in the US for 5 years, Izuku returns to take care of a concussed Bakugou who believes they're engaged. Now, Izuku has to pretend he's in a relationship with the man he's loved for most of his life, knowing that it's just a matter of time until Katsuki gets better and realizes it's all a lie.

Not-Dating by MiraChaDoodles | 14,290 | Katsuki takes Deku on a not-date to save his career, only to find himself wishing it were real.

we'll do the things that lovers do by ethereals | 29,544 | Izuku gets an invitation to Shouto's wedding and Katsuki is PISSED that he asks Kirishima to be his date (also he wasn't even fucking invited

Canon World – Friends With Benefits (?) 

Four Times Bakugou Katsuki Doesn't Intend to Sleep With Midoriya Izuku (And the One Time that He Does) by fallingraine85 | 17,601 | He hadn’t planned for any of this. He isn’t about to go delving into the ball of yarn that is Midoriya Izuku’s heart; he isn’t equipped to try and untangle and make sense of it all. He isn’t about to try to analyze how he’s feeling about all of this, either.... How many times can you repeat the same mistake?

We Wear Chains on the Weekend by surveycorpsjean | 35,086 | Well, in a day of revelations, it turns out that Izuku isn't as vanilla as Katsuki previously thought. Unfortunately, that fascinating discovery is overshadowed by Izuku's dumbassery, because he has zero concept of aftercare."Don't go to anyone else," Katsuki says, because screw it. He can do a better job anyways. Or; Katsuki finds Izuku on a bad drop.

Just for Now by Shiro_Kabocha | 48,135 | Katsuki's parents are out of town over a school break and to keep him from getting up to any shenanigans, they ask Izuku to house sit with him. What are two teenaged boys to do when left alone to their own devices? (Bonus+ the entire Just for Love series)

safe in the darkness by yoonskisses | 20,855 | Izuku and Katsuki had been meeting up secretly for months, with absolutely no feelings involved. Or so Katsuki thought at least. The dorm gossip about Ochaco and Izuku's new relationship seemed to set a spanner in the works for their arrangement.

Alternative Universe – No Quirks

Bluebird by EtherealBeing | 53,108 | Dialing a wrong number was no unusual occurrence. Everyone did it once in a while, and Katsuki was well aware of that fact. However, possessing this knowledge made it no less aggravating for him to discover — a full two minutes into his rant about his day — that he’d been venting his frustrations to a complete stranger. As if that wasn't enough, said stranger was also inexplicably determined to hear his story to its end.

Someone Borrowed by mynameis152 | 138,996 | It felt like hours that he stared at Izuku, coming to terms with the fact that a man, his childhood best friend, whom he hadn’t seen since their senior year of high school, was there in front of his very eyes. Then his brows furrowed and his jaw clenched before he uttered through gritted teeth the very name Izuku had longed to hear for years. “Deku.”

Dark Side of the Sun by Synnie | 51,598 | Staying up too late playing video games, Kirishima wasn't expecting to get an urgent call begging for help. Next thing he knew, he was letting his classmate Izuku Midoriya take refuge in his apartment - without consulting his always angry roommate.

Manage Me by Justaperson1718 | 10,756 | Izuku becomes Katsuki’s model agent.

Don't Set Your Drink Down by Crandberrycrush | 88,424 | With sudden clarity Izuku realized he had broken the first rule of going out. Never leave your drink unattended.

Livewire by pretty_rekless | 18,160 | Per Ochako's request, Izuku downloads a gay dating app in hopes to finally find a partner. Except every single one of his leads keep ghosting him or standing him up... That is until one hot, fiery blond enters the chat. Grindr/Tinder AU fic.

Drinking Watermelon by warschach | 8,906 | Katsuki works as a camp counselor, and Izuku is a boy made of summer heat and sunlight.

Precious Pet by Mikacrispy | 6,379 | When broke college student Midoriya Izuku found a job that offered lodging, food, and good pay for four hours of work each day, he thought it was too good to be true. But he called anyway. Turns out all he has to do is to be the spoiled little puppy of a rich businessman.

Our Eleven Summers by Dark_Mage_Ayumu | 34,472 | The first time Katsuki met Izuku was when he was eight. For the next eleven years, Izuku changed his life, and no one even knew. Their relationship was something they shared in secret.

sticky note crushes by ladyofsnails | 3,239 | Katsuki hates his roommate. The green-haired, freckled, artsy son of a bitch with his dumb pun t-shirts and paint-stained hands he can’t fucking keep to himself. Katsuki can’t leave a single assignment or paper out in his room because that idiot will just grab anything to draw on it. He’s like a shark that can’t stop swimming else it’ll die – he can’t stop drawing. Ever.

Don't Play Pretend by SweetSide | 10,103 | Actor AU: Deku and Bakugou get the leading roles for an upcoming TV Drama. They weren’t aware that they would be working with each other for who knows how long. It would’ve been completely fine if they weren’t exes.

97.6 FM by jamjars | 32,249 | Izuku can’t stop listening to the radio host with the deep voice who sounds like he’s stuck in 2010. It’s a harmless crush. That is until he starts calling into the show under the pseudonym Deku.

Read {between} Your Lines by greatcloudninja | 52,252 | Midoriya Izuku, up-and-coming actor, has finally hit his big break (...), Bakugou Katsuki, who has been acting for over twenty years.However, Bakugou seems to have it out for Izuku, leading to tension both on and off set. When some incriminating photos surface, the studio suggests (...): having Bakugou and Midoriya fake a relationship to get ahead of the rumors. 

I’m not looking for somebody with some superhuman gifts by PassingShadow | 5,522 | Izuku is a professional cuddler and Katsuki is his new client that’s just a little rough around the edges, and needs a natural healing touch.

Alternative Universe – Quirkless Deku

A Good Old-Fashioned Tattoo AU by lalazee | 14,437 | After their paths had split, Bakugou & Deku meet again as adults. While Bakugou begins to repent for the kid he used to be, he also starts to prove himself as he the man he is now.

Call Me a Safe Bet (I'm Betting I'm Not) by WTTTD | 10,803 | He wished he had some sort of heads up before seeing Deku again for the first time after nearly two years, looking like the essence of a lazy Sunday, smiling and surrounded with brand new, adoring friends. It was a little fitting that Katsuki burned for him so badly. (Support Department Deku)

In Which Kacchan Has a Ruff Time by OneshotPrincess | 14,511 | Bakugou Katsuki gets quirked into a dog, gets adopted by an unknowing Izuku and generally has a very rough few days full of realizations

While You Were Sleeping by Belkacaramelka (annabelleg) | 71,197 | The one where quirkless fanboy Midoriya Izuku rescues Pro Hero Todoroki Shouto, gets mistaken as his fiancé while he is in a coma, and gets caught up in the most unlikely fake engagement... until his childhood enemy and Todoroki's classmate Bakugou Katsuki tries to catch him out, and they both end up discovering a lot more about each other than they'd expected.

Let Me Assist You Personally by Seeress | 32,806 | Izuku is long-suffering Personal Assistant to #1 Pro Hero Dynamight.Dynamight can't keep a PA to save his career. They all quit crying after a few days weeks. Enter, Izuku—with enough money problems to brave the jaws of the cranky beast. Childhood friend turned glorified paid slave. Somehow it all works out. ‘Kill them with kindness’, his mom had told him once. If that were true, Bakugou Katsuki would be stone-cold dead by now.

Smile For The Camera by kurokonekokilled | 19,179 | Midnight has a cam site, home to millions of users, but one catches Katsuki's eye when he goes scrolled through it in search for something to help him release a little stress. A live stream and the best orgasm of his life later, his wallet is lighter, and he might be almost as obsessed with this Deku guy as the cam boy is with him.

Just Like The Comics by brichibi | 24,935 | Where Izuku works at a comic book shop because that’s as close to a hero as he’s gonna get, and Katsuki plays the part of heroic ex-boyfriend who is good at everything except winning Izuku back... maybe

Alternative Universe – Quirks

Get on my Level by Mikacrispy | 92,273 | Bakugou Katsuki is a Pro Hero whose boss demands him to take an intern. Midoriya Izuku is a UA student who needs an internship. When the two of them are put together, they learn about what it truly means to be a Hero and what it means to be in love.

A/B/O – Secret! Baby

Home by Emerald2402 | 87,214 | Midoriya Izuku left Japan in a rush, moving to America without a word to anyone else. But then almost 11 years later he arrives back Home and Bakugou Katsuki's Alpha is furious. Fuck that, Bakugou is furious, because Midoriya Izuku, an omega he tasted one time, has been keeping a very big, very blonde haired, green eyed secret.

Those Under the Same Stars by PerpetuallyPerturbed | 325,553 | When Katsuki Bakugo left Izuku Midoriya five years ago, he thought it was for forever. He put aside dreams and wishes of the omega to focus on his career. He was going to be the best hero, after all. He couldn't have an omega getting in his way. So when he's stopped on the streets one day by a pup begging for help for his mom, he isn't prepared to face what he gave up, and what the consequences of his actions were. (Quirkless Deku)

A/B/O – Quirks

Mark Me. Make Me Yours. by decadentbynature | 10,062 | Midoriya is the only Omega at UA and he's been hiding it well but there's one issue that threatens to expose him: his attraction to an Alpha, Bakugo. After being told to give some paperwork to Bakugo, Midoriya lets him into his dorm room and is immediately overwhelmed by his scent. Unable to help himself, he gives in to his urges, only to be discovered by Bakugo but instead of becoming enraged, Bakugo decides to give Midoriya exactly what he wants

Claim Me by ScientificallySinful (VampireGaaraCheesepuffs) | 114,449 | Being an Alpha has nothing to do with Katsuki's success as a Pro-Hero, the same way Deku's Omega status hasn't kept him from becoming Number Two. Secondary gender doesn't mean anything nowadays and “mating” is an antiquated practice. So when Izuku, his rival, asks Katsuki to Claim him in the middle of the night, there is only one logical thing to say. “What the fuck?”

Change of Plans by Mikacrispy | 185,965 | Alpha Pro Hero Bakugou Katsuki never planned to get married to some random omega but what he wants isn't an option anymore. One for All wielder Midoriya Izuku has suffered injustice too many times and doesn't plan in allowing his secondary gender to dictate how he must live his life. Falling in love was never in the plans.

Going Feral For You by ANGIE_fic | 17,977 | Bakugou has an aggression problem that might have to do with his Alpha. His job is on the line because of it. So what do you do with a pent up Alpha? Yes.Rut. (Quirkless Izuku)

i live for you, i long for you by jeonjeonggukkkkkie | 19,165 | The five times Izuku hinted he wants Katsuki to spend his next heat with him, and the one time Katsuki took the hint.

Baby's First Bloom by ContraryBee | 44,945 | Izuku blooms for Katsuki one warm day in their third year of middle school. What follows is both boys learning about themselves, their bond, and the society they live in.

As Fate Would Have It by ScientificallySinful (VampireGaaraCheesepuffs) | 88,737 | Katsuki Bakugo had plenty of reasons why he wasn't mated yet, not that he was going to explain why to just anyone. But now, Ground Zero was running out of time. If he didn't find someone soon, he'd lose his position as a Pro-Hero and he'd never get to be #1. So, when he finds out there's a male Omega recently arrested for prostitution that's headed to prison if he too doesn't get a mate…well it must be fate. (Quirkless Izuku)

A/B/O – No Quirks

Gravity by warschach | 71,477 | Izuku is back in his hometown and plenty hasn't changed much from the 8 years he was gone. Except, Katsuki Bakugou, the alpha king of their small town. He's hotter- because that's fair, right, God? -, stronger, a now-famous pro fighter, and noticeably nicer this round.Not that he cares, pfft. (Fine, he cares.)

Nine Months by greatcloudninja | 23,303 | Omega Midoriya Izuku connects with Alpha Bakugou Katsuki through an online singles ad. Izuku pays Katsuki to help him with his heat, ending up pregnant in the process. What follows is a pregnancy filled with ups and downs, but whatever hurdles come their way, they can make it through together.

The long dark by Ominous-Anonymous (Ominonymous) | 13,289 | He could have been really dangerous. He could be a fucking murderer for all he knew. But Izuku Midoriya, ever the reckless daredevil, was not thinking of that when he got into a car with a complete stranger. Completely ignoring the part where his mother always taught him to never gets into cars with alphas he didn't know...

#bakudeku #masterlist #fanfic masterlist #katsudeku #holy shit i can't believe i did this #mizutori’s personal post archive #bakudeku fanfiction #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #alpha bakugou #omega izuku #bnha fanfiction #bnha #mha fanfiction #fanfiction masterlist post #bakugou katsuki #midoriya izuku #archive of our own #ao3

[seijorhi]

Fracture

i apologise in advance.

Miya Osamu x female reader

TW non-con, dub-con, psuedo-infidelity, referenced character death, angst, drunk reader, gaslighting, age gap, the slightest hint of nsfw

‘Yer still coming home for summer, right?’

How many weeks had your sister spent lovingly bullying you into coming down? How many hours had you spent listening to her gush over the phone about how excited she was?

And until about three months ago, you’d been excited too. 

Despite the ten or so years between the two of you, there was nobody on earth you loved more than your sister. When you were sixteen years old and your parents passed away in a car accident, she was the one who stepped up to take care of you, putting a roof over your head, making sure you ate, slept and kept up your grades, balancing two jobs to do it. 

And she grumbled and you fought, but she’s the only reason you managed to keep it all together enough to graduate high school, and when it came time for you to leave home for university, she was the one blinking back tears and loudly complaining about you ‘abandoning your poor older sister in her time of need’.

As if she hadn’t sat with you for hours, pouring over your options and gently nudging you in the direction of Tokyo. 

“It’s just a few hours away,” you’d told her. “I’ll come back and visit you all the time.”

There was truth to that. The first six months of uni, you came home every other weekend arms full of expensive textbooks and mountains of assignments to write, but then she met Osamu.

You’ve never seen anybody fall so hopelessly in love as quickly as she had. Miya Osamu may as well have hung the damn moon in the sky for how your sister looked at him. And you suppose you can’t really blame her; he was stupidly tall, broad shouldered and handsome. Even back then his restaurant was a wild success, the man was talented and clearly knew how to cook. Nice was the wrong word to describe him, but Miya Osamu was good, and so long as he made your sister happy, that was enough for you.

And it wasn’t like he was the one to drive you away. 

Osamu liked you – he let you camp out in his restaurant and work on your assignments when you desperately needed a change of scenery, stopping to humour you with conversation if it was quiet. He made you laugh, he was interesting, and the more your sister brought him around, the more you realised that you actually kinda liked the guy. 

Things were just easy between the two of you, you never had to pretend to be anything but what you were.

You were the one who started putting space between you and her. It wasn’t intentional, at least not on their part, but somewhere along the way you’d started to realise that Osamu wasn’t the odd one out anymore; you were. She was building a life with him, and fortnightly visits turned into monthly ones, and then eventually it became once every few months and after that only on holidays and special occasions – their wedding being one of them.

At Christmas, cheeks flushed with alcohol, she’d pulled you into a one armed hug, pouting into your sweater. “You never come visit us anymore,” she’d sniffled dramatically, “I miss you.”

But it was Osamu – fingers laced with your sister’s, a hint of a smile curling at his lips – who’d voiced it. “Come spend yer summer break with us.”

Three months later you’d awoken to a call telling you that there’d been an accident. Your sister was dead.

Weeks pass by in a blur. Your classes are a haze of droning voices and mindless typing, you submit papers you don’t remember writing and you get good marks anyway. Your friends don’t know how to act around you, everything feels surreal, like you’re moving around in a dream, nothing touches you anymore. It hurts, but you’ve wrapped up that pain and put it someplace safe, seeking it out only when you’re alone and you just can’t bear the numbness a second longer.

The trip you’d promised to take back home to Osaka is the furthest thing from your mind, at least until Osamu calls you in the early hours of the morning, a week or so before the semester ends.

“Yer still coming home for summer, right?”

The word ‘no’ lingers on the tip of your tongue. The last time you’d seen each other was at the funeral, his face blank and hollow, eyes rimmed in red. He’d barely spoken more than a few sentences to you, but he’d stayed by your side the entire time, calmly thanking those who came up to express their condolences. 

You’d lost your sister, but he’d lost his wife. 

“Do you still want me to?” you ask him quietly instead. If you were in his shoes, you’re not so sure that you would. 

Yet Osamu sighs heavily, and you catch a faint clinking sound on the other end of the line, like a bottle being set back against the marble countertop. “I just–” but he breaks off and something inside of your chest tugs. “I want ya here. The house is empty… she’s gone and I… I want ya here. Please.” 

How could you possibly say no after that? Maybe you’ve been selfish, so wrapped up in your own grief and misery. You’d assumed that because Osamu had Atsumu he’d be okay. Not right away, of course, but he’d have that support around him – a support system that you were without.

It didn’t enter your mind that perhaps he was struggling too. That he was spending night after night alone in a house etched with memories of her. And just as you’d thought that Tsumu was the one keeping his head above water, maybe he was offering a hand to do the same for you. 

—

He’s waiting for you on the porch when your taxi pulls up on the kerb. The driver’s nice enough to help you with your bags, but Osamu is quick to intercept, waving off the help with an impatient huff that almost makes you laugh.

“Yer here,” he says once he sets them down on the porch, grinning as he tugs you into a warm embrace.

It’s then that you get a good look at him, a proper look – and for a moment, you’re taken aback. You haven’t seen him since the funeral a few months back, granted, but Osamu doesn’t look the way you imagined him to – especially after your call the other night. There’s no hint of pallid skin, no bloodshot eyes with heavy bags underneath or a 5 o’clock shadow on his face. No, even with his dark hair still a mess, dressed in jeans and his Onigiri Miya tee, Osamu looks good. Healthy even, if the way the sleeves of his shirt cling to his biceps is any indication. 

It takes you a second to realise that you’re staring, because Samu chuckles, brushing past you to bring your stuff inside.

“Y’know, most people start with a hello,” he calls over his shoulder. 

Your cheeks heat, a hint of shame curling inside of you. Were you expecting him to be an inconsolable wreck? You know better than most that grief messes with people differently, and it’s not fair of you to judge him, however unintentionally, for not fitting that image of the grieving husband.

It’s a good sign. 

“Hi, Samu,” you reply somewhat sheepishly, following him inside.

He’s already walking towards your old bedroom, the ‘guest room’ now (though you and he both know it’s always been yours), leaving you to trail behind the older man. Your intention is to stop him from going to too much effort, but as you walk past the living room, something catches your eye.

Or rather, the absence of something. Faltering in your step, it takes you a second to realise what’s missing, but as you glance around, brows furrowing in confusion, it hits you. 

The pictures of you and your sister, the cute ones with her and Samu, the old family snaps that used to line the walls and sit on the TV unit, they’re gone. And it’s not just the pictures. The artwork your sister had painted that used to hang by the wall next to the kitchen, the little pot plants she’d doted on like children, hell, the throw that she’d knitted one winter that was always lying on the couch; they’re all gone.

The room feels almost alien without them, unfamiliar and cold. He’d hung up some cool photography stuff to fill in some of the spaces, but instead of homey it just felt… modern. Like the pictures you see in magazines of staged houses that nobody actually lives in. 

And you must have been standing there for a while, because you don’t notice it when Samu comes back to find you still holding your purse, gazing around like a lost child.

“I didn’t get rid of ‘em, if that’s what yer thinking.”

You turn to face him, except Osamu isn’t looking at you. He’s gazing at the walls around you both, his face strangely impassive – except for his eyes. It’s impossible for you to miss the hurt that swims there, the faint sheen they didn’t hold only moments ago. “I packed them away – they’re in yer room if ya want to look through any of it, it’s just…” he trails off, finally glancing back to look at you. And once again, you feel that flicker of guilt slowly eating away at you. “It was painful, seeing her face everywhere.”

Before you left your apartment that morning, you swore to yourself that you wouldn’t cry today – but the tears come unbidden, and one moment you’re standing there staring at him and the next you’re choking on a sob, hand coming to your lips to try and stifle it.

Osamu’s there in a second, solid arms wrapped around you, pulling you into his chest. He doesn’t say a word (what’s there to say anymore?) he just hums softly, stroking your back with a gentle hand as you fall apart once more.

—

It’s surprisingly easy for the two of you to fall into a rhythm. There’d been some part of you that was hesitant about this whole thing – despite having a relatively good relationship with your brother in law, you knew that the only real connection between the two of you was your sister.

Without her, living in the same space and trying to navigate around the holes that she’d left, you’d expected it to be at least a little awkward between the two of you. But with Osamu working full time, it was kind of a non-issue. Aside from the first day when he’d taken the morning off to help you get settled, he was usually gone before you woke up, and most nights he wasn’t home until nine or ten. How he worked such long hours six days a week without collapsing out of sheer exhaustion was beyond you, but you tried to make things easier for him, cooking dinner for the two of you.

“Y’know ya don’t have to do this every night, right?” he asks you one night, sticking the leftover chicken into the microwave. “I have a restaurant, I can sort out my own dinner.”

You don’t tell him that despite being a rather terrible cook, it was one of the things your sister made sure to do every night in the weeks following your parents’ death. You’d spend most of your day holed up in your room if you weren’t at school, but dinner was the one time you’d sit and talk with her. It became a ritual; something sacred and special between the two of you.

You’re a better cook than she was by far, no comparison for Osamu, of course, but it’s the only way you really know how to help with… whatever this is. 

Instead, you just offer him a wry look from your position on the couch, “And yet, you never do.”

He scoffs at that, a hint of a smirk curling at his lips, “Why would I eat there when I know yer cookin’ for me?”

—

Of course, as easy as it is to slip into living with Osamu, you can’t escape what happened there forever. 

It doesn’t slip your notice the first night you spend there; the spare toothbrush in your bathroom, the decidedly masculine body wash in the shower, or how one of the shelves in the vanity was stocked with shaving cream and cologne and a few odd skin care products. You’d assumed that they were Atsumu’s, spares stashed away for the odd nights he crashed here. There’s another bathroom off the master bedroom, so you know it can’t be Samu’s stuff.

Except you find yourself proven wrong one night, when fresh from your shower and clad only in a fluffy white towel, you open the door to find a shirtless Osamu filling the space, one arm propped up on the doorframe. 

“Anyone ever tell ya yer a bit of a bathroom hog?” he asks, smirking down at you.

And you’re so taken aback, utterly confused as to why he’s standing there half dressed, why it matters how long you take in the bathroom – never mind that the only thing covering you from complete nakedness is your towel – that you can only stand there, gaping like a fish as he laughs, takes you by the shoulders and physically shifts you out of the way as he slides on past.

It takes you until the following morning – Osamu’s sole day off – to ask him about it, clutching nervously at your cup of coffee while he busies himself making breakfast for the two of you. 

“Samu, um, about last night…” you timidly begin. 

He glances up at you from the stove, a single eyebrow raised. “What about it?”

Your cheeks are already burning, eyes darting between his face and the mug in your hands as you struggle to find the right words to bring it up without making things weird. “Well, I-I was just wondering… um, why you were using my bathroom?”

You’re not sure what kind of reaction that you’re expecting, but the dark look that flashes across his face isn’t it. For a split second, your insides clench, terrified that you’ve said the wrong thing–

But as quickly as it appeared, Osamu’s expression smooths over. He exhales heavily, setting down the spoon in his hand as he turns to face you properly, and when your eyes flicker up once more, you realise with a start that it’s pity that’s taken its place. 

And a second too late, the pieces inside your head fall into place.

“Oh.”

Osamu nods only once. “I can’t go in without seeing her lyin’ there… I thought ya knew.”

And it’s like all the air’s been sucked out of the room. She’d died in their bathroom – slipped on the wet tiles and cracked her head open on the edge of their bath, and Samu had been the one to find her. 

Weakly your eyes flutter shut, bitter nausea churning in your gut. How could he stay here, sleep in the next room when–

“Hey, hey, calm down, I gotcha,” Samu’s voice is at your ear, and your head’s spinning, pounding, and you can’t breathe. The mug in your hand tumbles to the floor, your coffee spilling across the wooden floorboards as weak fingers clutch at empty air, and then those arms are around you once more and Osamu’s trying to soothe you.

Breakfast is forgotten as he tugs you towards the couch to sit. And as he holds you, speaks to you in that calm, unwavering voice you try to focus on the scent of him (masculine and earthy, a hint of spice and cedar), the fabric of his shirt under your cheek and the gentle, almost lazy circles he rubs into your side and not the mental image of your sister, lying broken and bleeding on the bathroom floor.

—

It doesn’t take much effort to find the stash of your sister’s things that Samu set aside in your room. You lose hours flicking through pictures of her, smiling through your tears as they dredge up old, happy memories of the two of you.

Even the ones of her and Samu, his arms looped around her waist, resting his chin on the top of her head; she’s always wearing that bright grin that makes your heart ache.

There are a few of the three of you – one from the last time they’d come to visit you in Tokyo and you’d dragged them off to Disneyland. You’re standing between the two of them, beaming at the camera while Samu’s arm hangs off your shoulder and your sister, grinning widely and wearing the minnie mouse ears she’d bought at the first opportunity, tosses up a peace sign. 

Softly wiping away your tears, you set it aside. You’ll have to ask Samu if you can take that one home with you.

—

“What’re ya doin’ tomorrow?”

It’s late, and the two of you are sprawled out on the couch, watching TV with a bowl of snacks between you like the old days when he asks.

“Not much,” you reply. “I was going to go to the markets at some point in the morning and maybe head to the beach after that, why?”

Grey-ish brown eyes flicker across to you, “A few of my old teammates are in town, we’re meetin’ up for some drinks. I want ya to come with me.”

“Oh,” the word slips out before you can stop yourself. “Um, yeah… if you want?”

It ends up sounding more like a question, a fact that doesn’t slip past Osamu if the amused little snort he gives in response is any indication. And it’s not that you don’t want to give up your plans in favour of going with him; you get along pretty well with Atsumu and you’ve met most of his old teammates at least once or twice, it’s just that you’re a little confused as to why he’d want you there to begin with.

They’re all at least twelve years older than you, and while it occurs to you that maybe he’s just inviting you along to be polite (not that that’s ever been his style before) the last thing you want is to be stuck feeling like an afterthought, all but ignored as he and his friends catch up.

“I said I wanted ya there, didn’t I?” He doesn’t wait for a response, “‘sides, Tsumu already asked if you were comin’.”

Which is how you find yourself dressed up for the first time in months, fingers smoothing out the hem of your dress as Samu tosses you a lazy grin from the driver’s seat. “Relax, wouldja? They ain’t gonna bite.”

You know that. They’re good guys, but no matter how much rationalising you try to do, you can’t seem to quell the anxiety eating you up, and the frustrating thing is that you don’t know why you’re feeling it.

He’d neglected to tell you that they weren’t meeting at some bar or restaurant, but at Atsumu’s condo in the city (‘Showy fuckin’ bastard’ Samu’d huffed as he’d pulled up in front of the building), but you suppose it really doesn’t make much of a difference.

“Ya look good,” he compliments, eyeing you for a moment while the two of you wait for the elevator. 

Cheeks warming, you drop your gaze and stutter out a quiet thank you. Apparently unsatisfied, he leans closer, reaching one large hand up to gently ruffle your hair – grinning in satisfaction when you shriek and try to pry it away. “Relax,” he whispers again, the warmth of his breath tickling the bare skin of your neck. “Yer too wound up.”

Distracted by the arrival of the elevator, you fail to notice that instead of returning back to his side, his hand drops to your shoulder.

And it should be easier to do just that once you have a drink in hand. Atsumu greets you with a one armed hug, the only hint of anything out of the ordinary being the way his gaze lingers a beat too long as he studies your face, his eyes sharp and missing nothing. But whatever he sees (or doesn’t see) his expression softens into a smile, “Glad ya came.”

But even as you’re greeted by the others, falling into an easy conversation with Kita and Aran you can’t seem to shift the uneasiness in your stomach. There’s something in the air, a tension nobody really wants to admit to.

And you can’t quite tell if the others are surprised that Samu brought you at all, or if it’s just because you’re a living reminder of a tragedy that’s still fresh and raw, and everyone’s trying to pretend that it’s not. You don’t blame them for it, of course, they only mean the best. But you can see it in the way Suna side eyes you every now and then, how skilfully Akagi skirts anything that could touch a nerve when he comes up to chat.

It’s like they’re all walking on eggshells – though whether it’s for your benefit or Osamu’s, you’re not entirely sure. For his part, Samu sticks close, keeping your drink topped up, an arm slung over your shoulders as the afternoon wears into the evening. 

Yet despite that, the alcohol you’re drinking far too quickly starts to work its magic, filling your body with a warm, pleasant little buzz, and you actually start to enjoy yourself. You laugh easier, giggling when the twins start to bicker, gasping in wicked delight when Suna offers to show you certain embarrassing photos of both of them on his phone (he has quite the collection), even letting Gin and Tsumu drag you into taking shots with them.

And all the while, Samu watches you, a soft smirk playing at his lips.

—

By the time he unlocks the front door and you stumble back inside, you’re absolutely plastered, giggling at nothing and tripping over your own feet.

As always, Samu’s there to catch you, strong, muscular arms wrapping around your waist and pulling you flush against him. “Careful there, princess,” he laughs.

You grin up at him, carefree and heartbreakingly beautiful. For the first time in months you feel light, you feel amazing and you don’t want this to end. Kicking your heels off, you skip inside, leading him by the hand. “Samu,” you call back over your shoulder. “I wanna dance.”

“Nobody’s stopping ya.”

“But there’s no music,” you pout, and once again he chuckles, letting you go to settle back into the leather couch as he pulls out his phone. A moment later a familiar, lively melody floods the living room, and you let yourself become lost to it. It doesn’t matter that you’re drunk and dancing alone, Samu’s dark eyes following your every move, you’ve never felt so free.

Arms raised in the air, hips swaying hypnotically to the beat, you lose track of time. It could’ve been minutes or seconds or a whole hour, but suddenly you’re not alone anymore – Samu’s there with you. His cologne invades your senses, why does he always smell so good? His body’s warm, almost hot as he slots himself behind you, caging you against him. 

“Fuck, baby,” he growls, his voice sending shivers running down your spine. “Yer a little tease, ya know that?”

And there’s something wrong with that, you know there is, but you can’t seem to think of what it is – not when the weight of his hold’s impeding your movement. A pout adorns your face, a soft, almost petulant whine escaping your lips as you try in vain to untangle yourself, “Samu, lemme go. I wanna dance.”

He huffs out a laugh, but that doesn’t sound right either. “Don’t wanna dance with you, pretty girl.”

There’s something hard pressing against your lower back, and his hot breath ghosts over your neck a moment before lips descend to suck on the sensitive flesh.

In a split second, all that blissful, warm, drunken happiness evaporates. Samu groans lowly, his chest rumbling at your back, but there’s a pit of something cold and urgent that’s seeping through your veins, distant, foggy alarm bells tolling inside of your head and you don’t understand what’s happening, but you know that you don’t like it.

You want it to stop.

“S-Samu,” you whine, shifting uncomfortably against his hold. 

This time he listens, drawing back just enough that he can turn you around to face him. And those familiar eyes are hooded and dark, burning with an intensity that makes you want to recoil even as he stares down at you, taking your cheek in hand.

You don’t even realise that you’re crying until his thumb’s brushing away your tears. There’s nothing comforting or pleasant (nothing of the Samu you know) on his face as he studies your fearful expression, but eventually he lets out a heavy sigh.

“She was positive I was cheatin’ on her,” he admits. “Did she ever tell ya that?” He pauses for a beat waiting for a reply, but when it’s clear that you don’t have one for him, he just scoffs, “No, ‘course not. That’d be admitting that not everything about our life was picture perfect, and heaven fuckin’ forbid we do that. Y’know, that's why she wanted ya back here so bad. She needed a buffer.”

Bitterness clings to every word like poison and you flinch, renewing your struggles to get away. Not that he lets you – the moment you start to squirm the arm around your waist tugs you closer, anchoring you against him. The tears come faster, followed by soft, hiccuping sobs, but Samu seems beyond caring at that point.

“Stupid bitch never could see what was right in front of her face. That’s what we were fightin’ about that night; she said she was gonna leave me.”

Your heart clenches, fear pooling in your gut, but Samu just smiles at you, a mockery of sweet tenderness, reaching back to tuck a stray lock of your hair behind your ear. “But you know I’d never hurt my pretty girl, don’t ya, baby?” he asks. “Just want a taste tonight.”

You don’t even have time to suck in a breath before he’s kissing you, cradling the back of your head as his mouth moves hungrily against yours.

And all you can taste is the whiskey on his tongue.

—

You can’t tear your eyes away from your reflection in the mirror, the faint, reddish blemish colouring your neck.

A hickey.

Tentatively, as if trying to prove that it’s real and not a figment of your imagination, you prod at the mark, only to wince at the tenderness. Definitely real.

You’d woken up to an empty house – unsurprising considering it was well past ten and you knew Osamu had work today – with your head pounding and your mouth uncomfortably dry. Wracking your brain, you can’t seem to conjure up a rational explanation for the bruise. Granted, you can’t really remember much of last night, only fragments of being at Atsumu’s place, and certainly nothing after you’d started taking those shots.

Which doesn’t make the uneasiness sitting heavy in your stomach any easier to take, because you know that you hadn’t been cosying up to anybody before you’d lost track of the night, and if it had happened after, then surely Samu or one of the others would have stepped in and put a stop to it.

And that should’ve been more of a comforting thought than it was, because if it didn’t happen at Atsumu’s then that meant it happened afterwards, when you were here with Samu.

Your heart thumps unevenly against your ribs.

Osamu. Your dead sister’s husband, your brother in law. 

A hickey on your neck isn’t just a kiss. It’s not a simple, drunken peck against your lips, it meant that somebody had sucked on the skin, bitten at it, kissed until blood vessels broke – it’s not the kind of thing that happens accidentally. 

A wave of nausea threatens to overtake you, and you barely manage to make it to the bathroom before you’re violently emptying the contents of your stomach into the porcelain bowl. And you know as you collapse onto the cool tiled floor, shaking just a little, that this time at least, the alcohol isn’t to blame.

You know Samu; you trust him implicitly. Whatever happened, it must have been a mistake or something. You’d both been drinking, and he’s still grieving and–

There’s no point jumping to conclusions or working yourself up any more than you already have. You’ll just bring it up with him when he gets home, you decide. 

Yet anxiety and guilt gnaw at you as the hours crawl by, you’re half tempted to pick up your phone and just call him to ask point blank. The clock feels like it’s mocking you every time you glance up, and while you try your best to distract yourself with household chores and then busying yourself with dinner, none of it works for long.

By the time he does stride through the door, a little before ten, you’re an anxious wreck, all but wringing your fingers as you sit rigid and tense at the table. Most nights you eat before he gets home, hunger getting the better of you, but tonight you don’t seem to have much of an appetite. 

“Smells good,” he comments with an easy grin, toeing off his shoes and dropping his wallet and keys by the door.

You open your mouth, but the words seem to get stuck in your throat as he drops a kiss down on the top of your head and walks on past to grab a bowl from the kitchen.

“I’m starving.”

Instead, you just swallow nervously as he pulls out the seat next to you and sits, not wasting another second before digging in. Your eyes quickly dart over to study him, but you don’t see any hint of guilt or unease on his face. He just looks like the same old Samu, a little tired maybe, but otherwise totally normal, and so you force yourself to pick up your spoon and follow suit. 

And he’s never been one to fill silences with meaningless chatter, but tonight the quiet between the two of you feels oppressive, every clink of metal against ceramic echoing too loudly, every chew, every swallow setting you on edge. You can’t even taste the food, your stomach too twisted in knots for you to feel anything but nauseous after a few bites. 

“… Is everything okay?” he asks after a few minutes, and it’s so sudden amongst the tense silence that you visibly jerk, almost dropping the spoon you’d been toying with. 

You glance up to find him staring, brows furrowed in concern, and once again your stomach flips. It’s now or never.

“Um… did anything happen last night?” you ask, your voice barely more than a whisper.

Osamu’s frown deepens fractionally, and he tilts his head as your fingers twist in your lap, “What d’ya mean?”

Did we kiss? The words dangle on the tip of your tongue, but as you nervously meet his eyes, you find nothing but confusion and concern there. And for a moment, you almost speak them, but then Samu’s reaching across the table to take your hand in his, and as his warm palm swallows up yours, you lose your nerve.

“You sure yer okay?”

Whatever happened, he doesn’t remember it and neither do you. 

Smiling tightly, you nod. “Yeah, it’s nothing. Nevermind.”

There’s no reason for you to drag him through the mud for this, you’re already feeling enough guilt and shame for the both of you.

—

You try to put it out of your mind, but it’s not that easy.

Lying awake in bed at night, your brain unwittingly turns over possibilities of what else could’ve caused the mark if not Osamu. Guilt gnaws at you every second that you’re around him and all the while he’s painfully oblivious to it all.

He’s always been affectionate with you, but all those stray, unthinking touches now carry a different weight with them. You find yourself ducking away from them more often than not, pretending that you don’t see the almost wounded look in those greyish-brown eyes when you do. You start to avoid him, finding other places to be whenever he’s home.

And you hate yourself for it, because Osamu’s been nothing but faithful to your sister for as long as you’ve known him. You’re the one acting like there’s something wrong between the two of you, like he’s treating you any differently than he always has when you know that’s not the case.

You know that, but when you catch sight of the fading bruise in the mirror, your stomach twists into knots all the same. 

There are excuses and justifications aplenty, but none of them make you feel any better. You still find yourself sniffling into your pillow, swallowed up by your guilt when you imagine how devastated your sister would be if she knew.

You’d let her husband kiss you. Being drunk and miserable and grieving didn’t change that. Whether he knew it was you or mistook you for her; it doesn’t matter. Maybe it was a mistake, letting him talk you into coming.

Things were still too raw, too fresh. You’d thought that coming here would help, but so far it’s only made everything worse, and unintentionally or not, you can’t kid yourself that your presence is doing anything to help Osamu anymore.

You need to go back to Tokyo.

Somewhat selfishly, you’re tempted to put it off until the weekend, because you know that Onigiri Miya has a stall for the beginning of the summer festival and he’ll be too preoccupied with that to think about anything else – but you just can’t bring yourself to do that to him. 

No, it’s better to rip it off like a bandaid; nice and quick. 

You’d planned on breaking the news over dinner, but as you pick your way through your noodles, you notice that Samu’s quieter than he usually is. Every time you risk a glance up he’s staring at the table, looking entirely lost in thought, and it just doesn’t feel like the right time to bring it up.

Tomorrow, you decide, you’ll cook his favourite for dinner and tell him then.

—

The knocking startles you from your sleep with a jolt. It’s quiet, hesitant almost, but you’ve always been a light sleeper.

“Samu?” you croak out, fumbling blindly for the phone at your bedside to see what time it is. 

The door opens, a crack of light from the hallway spilling into your room as Osamu looks in. “Sorry,” he murmurs, “I know it’s late, but I need to talk to ya ‘bout somethin’.”

He’s shirtless, clad only in a pair of cotton pyjama pants, but he doesn’t look to be in any immediate kind of trouble. Still, he wouldn’t have disturbed you in the middle of the night if it wasn’t something important, so you blearily wipe the sleep from your eyes and force yourself to sit up as he slips into your room and shuts the door behind him.

“What’s wrong?”

He hasn’t bothered to turn on the light, and even with the moonlight streaming in through your window, his face is cast in shadow as he takes a seat on the edge of your bed. And it’s silly, especially considering he’s the one who’s shirtless right now but it’s hard not to flush at the realisation that you’re only wearing a thin, satiny slip. You feel almost naked – he’s seen you in bikinis before, but it feels different here, when he’s the one in your bedroom.

“You asked me the other day about what happened the night we went to Tsumu’s,” he begins, his voice quiet and soft in the early hours of the morning, and suddenly your state of dress is the last thing on your mind. 

Swallowing tightly, your pulse quickens and you still, waiting for him to continue.

And you feel, rather than see, the way he stares at you, inching a fraction closer when you don’t immediately answer. “And I lied. Or I didn’t exactly tell ya the full truth.”

“Which is?” you force out.

Samu’s shoulders rise and fall as he takes a deep, slow breath in and exhales heavily. “You were drunk and ya came onto me, tried to kiss me.” You flinch, a choked sound escaping your throat at the blunt admission, but he’s quick to reach for you, his hand coming to rest on your knee, squeezing it reassuringly. “And in the heat of the moment, I let ya.”

Hot tears prick at the corners of your eyes, but the moment you try to turn away from him, biting your lip and trying to blink back the tears, he stops you. 

“Osamu–”

“‘Cause I’ve spent years waiting to kiss those lips, an’ I’m tired of pretending we both don’t want this.”

And he’s kissing you; soft and sweet and gentle, his lips molding to yours as he cups the back of your neck. You wonder if he can feel your pulse racing under his fingertips as he draws himself closer, groaning into your mouth.

It doesn’t matter that your hands are on his bare chest, pushing at him, hitting him – those muscles aren’t just for show; he’s immovable. The more you squirm, trying to extricate yourself so that you can plead with him to stop–

This is a mistake. A horrible, awful misunderstanding. He’s upset and grieving and not thinking clearly and you have to stop this.

He doesn’t know what he’s saying.

– the more his grip tightens until it starts to hurt and you’re whimpering into the kiss. Your tears are wetting his cheeks, but he doesn’t care, won’t stop and there’s a panic that rises within you every second that you’re entangled with him.

“Don’t do this,” he mutters, breaking the kiss as a sob rips its way free from your throat, “Don’t pretend ya don’t want this, baby. I know ya do. Stop being a little fuckin’ tease.”

He leans back in, intent on capturing your lips again, and in an act of desperation you reach for his face, cradling his cheek in your hand. “Samu, please,” you beg, wide, imploring eyes searching his face for any hint of a reprieve. “You’re scaring me. Stop, please, j-just for a second.”

Just a second, that’s all you need to try and snap him out of whatever the hell this is. One second. 

Osamu stills, his face mere inches from your own, his body hovering atop yours. His breath, ragged and uneven, ghosts over your skin, leaving goosebumps in its wake, but you don’t dare move as he leans into the touch, grey eyes fluttering shut.

He sighs, the sound almost like a shiver. “Ya don’t need to be scared, ‘m gonna take good care of my girl.”

He doesn’t give you the chance to say anything else, not as he forces himself onto you once more. You used to marvel a little at Osamu. Tall, handsome and strong, even in his mid thirties; Samu was fit. Now, straddling your waist, pinning your wrists to the wall with one hand, the other palming at your tits, he dwarfs you entirely. He isn’t impatient, not as he kisses you languidly, not as he slides the soft, satin up your thigh, revealing your underwear.

Your hiccuping sniffles aren’t enough to move him, you’re not strong enough to physically fight him off. He doesn’t pay the tearful, breathless pleas sobbed out between kisses any mind. 

Osamu grabs you by the waist and flips you onto your front, lips brushing at the nape of your neck as he smooths your hair back, and you’re utterly helpless to stop him. 

And as his hand runs down your side and he coaxes your hips up into the air, you almost wish that he was rough. Because this pretense of gentleness, glinting steel masquerading as silk – it’s too intimate, and you feel complicit.

Like you’re willing.

Like you want this with him.

An act of love as he tugs your panties down to your knees and hums in quiet satisfaction at the sight of your bare cunt, glistening just for him.

There’s a voice in your head telling you you should be screaming and kicking and snarling like a wild, feral thing, but Osamu’s grabbing at your ass, spreading it to get a better look, his thumb gliding along your slit and all you can think about is the picture he’d packed away, the one of the three of you at Disneyland. 

Samu’s arm slung over your shoulder, and your sister’s bright smile.

He spits; a warm, fat glob of saliva hitting your pussy, and as it slowly dribbles down the only sound that leaves your lips is a soft, broken whine. You don’t fight him when he takes his cock in hand and guides the flushed head, pre-cum already oozing at the tip, along your cunt, you just lie there, a toy for him to move and manipulate however he wants.

“You’ll forgive me for this, I know ya will,” he murmurs, softly squeezing your hip just once as something thick and blunt presses at your entrance. 

But it doesn’t matter, not as his cock sheaths itself inside of you with one hard, brutal thrust, because you’re not sure you’ll ever be able to forgive yourself.

#yandere haikyuu #yandere osamu miya #yandere osamu x reader #yandere osamu #yandere osamu miya x reader #tw: noncon #tw: dubcon #tw: infidelity #angst #drunk reader #manipulation and gaslighting ahead y'all #dilf osamu

[miekasa]

iced tea

+ pairing: levi ackerman x reader

+ genres and warnings: college au, levi is the best not yet boyfriend au, erwin would definitely be an insufferable project partner to have but you gotta love him au

+ summary: there are three rules of night class. come on time, come prepared, and come with snacks. you forget about rule number three. luckily, levi’s there to save the day.

There’s only one appeal to signing up for a three-hour night class, and it’s that you only ever have to muster up the will to attend once a week. It’s a sacrifice, but it definitely cuts down on the temptation of skipping like you would a normal, one-hour section course. Just one and done.

Plus, you have Erwin with you in this class. Is he a little bit of a professor’s pet and consistently overly chipper every class despite knowing he’s about to endure 180 minutes of lecture? Sure, but at least you don’t have to suffer alone.

Really, it’s not as bad as it sounds, especially if the course is interesting enough, or easy enough, and luckily for you, yours is both. Not to mention, your professor is brilliant, actually entertaining, and does her best to keep the class engaging—she’s funny in the dorky, lovable professor kind of way. And she gives you short, ten to fifteen minute breaks at every hour mark just to make sure everyone doesn’t completely lose their minds.

It’s a commitment, but you’ve grown to actually enjoy it. As long as you follow the three rules of night class: come on time, come with your notes prepared so that you don’t get upstaged by Erwin, and come with—

“Fuck,” you curse, watching as Erwin pulls out one of his many, tiny, organic, boxed juices. The ones meant for children with soy sensitivities that Erwin claims are packed with more nutrients.

“What’s up?” He questions, more shocked than concerned, at your sudden profanity as he sets his juice box in the right corner of his desk.

You pout. “I forgot to bring snacks.”

Come on time, come with your notes prepared so that you don’t get upstaged by Erwin, and come with snacks. Those were the only three rules of night class, and you’d completely forgotten about the most important one.

“Oh,” Erwin grins, pulling a chocolate bar from his lunch bag and taunting you with it, “Sounds like a you problem.”

You snatch a piece from the top corner, stuffing part of it into your mouth to spite him; but you regret your choices as soon as it melts on your tongue.

“What the fuck—is this mint chocolate?” you complain, swallowing the rest of the sweet with disdain.

“Yes it is,” Erwin huffs, grabbing the remaining stolen bit from between your fingers and popping it into his mouth, “And it is delicious.”

“You’re an actual menace to society.”

Erwin crinkles his nose at you, “A menace to society with snacks for the next three hours.”

His comment makes you groan, albeit a little dramatically, and you slump back in your chair to debate your options. Class doesn’t start for another twelve minutes; you could try and run to the student center quickly to buy some last minute snacks, but the line was probably already lengthy with students of similar trains of thought, meaning you’d be late if you stuck it out, which would leave you violating rules one and three tonight. Erwin makes you sit in the front row with him, and you were not willing to take the late walk of shame with an armful of snacks in tow.

You could wait it out until the first hour break, but they’ll probably be sold out of anything good by then, not to mention the race to beat out the line again. If you played your cards right, you could order food during class and time it so that it was delivered during your break, but that was risky.

Alternatively, you could try and sprint to the concessions stand near the library, but going there and back was so much further away than the student center; you’d probably end up late, too.

“Hey,” you call to Erwin, refraining from rolling your eyes as he sets all six thousand and twenty eight of his colored pens on his desk for the evening, “Is Hange still on campus?”

“No, they have work today.”

You groan. Why did Hange have to be so responsible and good with their time-management skills. They was your last hope. Unless—

“Do you think Levi will bring me Starbucks?”

“Probably,” Erwin shrugs, humming to himself; but then he thinks it over, replying again with a knowing smirk on his face, “Actually, definitely. If he’s still here, but he probably is. You know him.”

You pout, the possibility of Levi being home is high, but so is that of him being cooped up in his favorite library. Either way, he would likely be studying right now, and you’d hate to disturb him, but desperate times call for desperate measures. 

[sent 6:47pm] you — leeevaaaaaaaaai are you still on campus

[received 6:47pm] leeevaaai — yes — why, what’s wrong

[sent 6:47pm] you — uwu — wanna bring me something from starbucks before class — i have my 3 hour lecture today and i forgot snacks :—( — and erwin won’t share his organic $1500 whole foods gummy bears with me

[received 6:48pm] leeevaaai — i told you i don’t like the smileys with the noses, they’re ugly — should you even be drinking coffee this late, you’ll be up until the ass crack of dawn

You scoff audibly, and Erwin takes this as an invitation to peep at your screen. Your comment about his snacks does not go unnoticed, as bitterly munches on his (yes, in fact, organic and gluten-free, as if it being mint flavored wasn’t criminal enough) chocolate bar.

[sent 6:48pm] you — that’s RICH coming from you mister

[received 6:48pm] leeevaaai — you’re being awfully rude to someone you expect to buy you a $7 drink

[sent 6:48pm] you — hehe sorry i loooove you leeevaaai — venti iced chai latte — light ice

[received 6:49pm] leeevaaai — do you think i don’t know your overpriced starbucks order by now

[sent 6:49pm] you — uwu :—)

[received 6:49pm] leeevaaai — but you’re getting a grande, i’m not made of money — and it’s punishment for sending another ugly nose smiley

[sent 6:49pm] you — un-uwu

“I don’t blame him,” Erwin chuckles, scrunching the wrapper from his now finished bar between his fingers.

You flick him away, ignoring the turning heads of your classmates as Erwin’s pens fall in the aftermath. It’s seven o’clock on the dot when your laptop pings loudly with an incoming message from Levi—and a subsequent groan from Erwin, who breeches your personal space once more to press the mute button on your keyboard.

[received 7:00pm] leeevaaai — where are you sitting

[sent 7:00pm] you — front row to the right — erwin’s idea not mine

Levi spots Erwin’s bright blonde hair before he sees you, scoffing to himself as he makes his way to the front of the room; a tray with three Starbucks cups, and a plastic bag in tow. Erwin sees him first, too, waving at him as he crosses from the left side to where the two of you are seated.

“Aw, Levi, you brought me one!” Erwin all but squeaks, reaching for one of the other drinks with grabby hands after you take your iced drink from the tray.

But Levi pulls one hot drink from the tray for himself, and pulls the remaining one out of arm’s reach. “As if,” he grumbles, bringing his own cup to his lips. 

“You’re the best, Levi,” you smile, sticking your tongue out at Erwin. Levi only offers you a small nod as acknowledgement. He extends his left hand now, the plastic bag sliding off his wrist and onto your desk, silently.

Confused, you lean forward, setting your drink down to open the contents of the bag. Inside, there are two granola bars, a bagel, cream cheese, some kind of sandwich, and a small Nutella to-go cup with mini breadsticks attached. When you look back up at Levi, he simply shrugs, sipping on his drink again while a light pink dusts over the tips of his ears. 

“You said you forgot your snacks,” he explains, “I knew you’d text me the whole time, bitching about how Erwin wouldn’t share his zero-calorie lemon rinds if you didn’t have your own.”

You take note that the chai he brought you was, in fact, a venti, and not a grande like he’d threatened, and that the granola bars in the bag are not only your favorite flavor, but from your favorite brand, too; and you find yourself smiling as you decipher the very clear message underneath Levi’s less than poetic words.

“What’s in the other cup?” Erwin asks, pointing at the remaining drink. Levi carefully lifts it from the tray, and sets it down on the other corner of your desk, a safe distance away from your laptop.

“Tea,” he says shortly, “So you don’t lose your mind after inhaling your coffee.”

“This is tea, too. Chai is tea, Levi.”

“Tea without milk or six kilograms of sugar,” Levi corrects you, “Or ice.”

“Iced tea is tea, you know.”

Levi doesn’t respond to that with anything but a glare. You smile at his stoicism. Erwin thinks the whole exchange is kind of weird, and wonders where you possibly get the gall to make fun of his taste in snacks when you can’t even realize you’re in love with a man who refuses to identify iced tea as a valid form of tea. 

“I better go before she starts,” Levi speaks, a single hand referencing to your professor behind him, who looks just about ready to begin class for the evening, “Call me when you’re done, I’ll drive you two home.”

“Oh, you don’t have to, Erwin and I usually take the b—”

“Brat,” Levi cuts your words short, “Call me when you’re finished. I’ll be in the library.”

You throw daggers at him with your eyes, but your resolve is waning, once again, as you closely read at the implications of Levi’s promise. You accept, and Erwin is more than happy for the free ride.

Levi hums. “And eat the bagel before the Nutella.”

“You’re annoying.”

“I’m a saint,” Levi deadpans, placing the palm of his hand on the top of your head affectionately, “Call me.”

He walks away before you can debate again, just as your professor speaks into the microphone to grab everyone’s attention. You scrunch your nose, hands flying to your hair to smooth out the aftermath of Levi’s playfulness, before opening your notes for the evening.

“You’re really dense aren’t you?” Erwin asks, one eyebrow raised, but the overall look on his face is more than fond, “It’s kind of cute.”

“Huh?” you question, cheeks stuffed with food as you bite into your bagel, “Dense about what?”

Erwin shakes his head, turning back to laptop with an exasperated expression, the fondness in his eyes fading quickly. “Hopeless,” he mumbles, “The both of you.”

#aot x reader #snk x reader #levi x reader #levi ackerman x reader #aot imagines #snk imagines #levi ackerman fluff #levi ackerman smut #levi fluff #levi smut #erwin x reader #eren x reader

[dr4cking]

I just came across your blog and I love your writing so much. Can I request where reader and draco are in a secret relationship so she likes to tease him in public by flirting with guys!? And he gets like so possessive and fucks the living shit out of her 🧎🏼‍♀️🧎🏼‍♀️🧎🏼‍♀️🧎🏼‍♀️

Consequences.

masterlist taglist

draco malfoy x reader | smut | anon requested.

a/n : thank you for requesting! this was so fun to write! <3

this is one of the most excited things she got when she signed a deal to be in a relationship with the one and only, draco malfoy.

they have been secretly dating for 7 months and the fact that no one know about this, making the adrenaline of getting caught more exciting.

y/n loves how draco would treated her like she is the only girl for him, which is true. but she also likes how she would seek a chance of getting him worked up when she gets on his skin then she would get what she wanted.

like now, it was no different days but she decided she would add some fun today, she loves when he goes rough with her in bed and now she makes sure she would get it without having to look desperate.

y/n smirked as the brightest idea popped up in her mind. draco is the type of jealous and overprotective boyfriend, so why doesnt she proves it today?

she admit she was kinda scared when she saw the angry version of her boyfriend but she loved it at the same time. she likes to tease him, knowing he cant do anything.

and if this how she would get what she wanted then she would take it.

she walked out of her dorm and run downstairs, she knew draco already waiting for her in the great hall. it would be the perfect chance for her.

her eyes looking for the blonde haired guy as soon as she entered the great hall and she found him already looking at her, his eyes were telling her to sit near him,

but no, not today.

y/n took a seat beside theodore nott, a friend of draco who would always take his chance to flirt with all the girls who passed by him.

“hey nott, you’re looking good today” y/n raising her voice a little bit louder on purpose, draco who sat across them already fuming at her flirty voices.

“hey y/n its all you, looking hot as always.” she laughs although its not really funny, she cringed at the way her laugh sounds but play it along when she heard a thumped sounds from a fork dropped to the plate.

y/n continues her flirting with theo touching his arm and laughing about his jokes until it was time for their class. she looks at draco’s red face and give him a wink and a smirk.

“what the fuck is up with your bratty behavior today?” draco asked as he walks past her, he makes sure no one was looking in their direction.

“who are you calling brat? because i’m for sure not one.” y/n replied giving him her sly grin before she runs to the class not giving him the chance to answer her.

they were sitting next to each other in potions class, draco tried his best not to distracting the class by calling y/n’s name at any chance he got but she was still ignoring him and told him it was nothing.

“baby, did i do something wrong?” she swore she almost wanted to stop all her game when she heard the intonation in his voice but she decided to be stubborn.

“its nothing draco i promise” y/n shoots him a smile reassuring him, the least she could do right now.

professor snape called out and announce that they’re gonna make a new potion and have to partner up with someone and when he listed her name with harry potter, she couldnt get more excited as she look at draco and shot him an apologetic smile.

“hey y/n, could you bring the ingredients i’m still working on how to make this properly” she nodded at harry’s order and get the ingredients immediately but not before taking a look at draco and swaying her hips on her way making him glared at her.

“here, harry. so, what’s the first step?” y/n asked and do what harry instructed.

she keeps asking him not-so- important questions to keep their conversation going but to make it worse she touched his arm on purpose and twirling her hair.

draco behind her already watching every move she made.

but whats make draco more mad is when they finished the potion and y/n jumped happily as they successfully made the potion and give the chosen one a tight embrace.

draco stormed out of the class balling his fists up, anger radiates off of him making all people passed by him to back off a little. y/n noticed this right away feeling guilty and decided to follow him but he was nowhere at the sight.

she was still looking around for draco asking people if they’ve seen him but the answer is no.

until a cold hand grabbed her wrist harshly and pulling her in one of abandoned class. she yelped when the person lock the door and put his hand on her mouth to muffled her scream.

“you did that on purpose, dont you, brat?” y/n rubbed her thighs together as she recognized the deep voice behind her, its draco.

“now you gonna have to stay quiet and be a good girl for me while i teached you some lesson, yeah?” she only nodded at him cant speak as his hand still on her mouth.

“for the whole day i’ve been wondering what i did wrong to make you act like an ungrateful brat. but all i see now is that you just need to be tamed, right?” draco whispers into her ear guiding his free hand down to the bottom of her skirt after y/n gives him a nod of permission.

he sneaked his hand under her skirt and put it in her panties rubbing her cunt getting her aroused then he pushed in his fingers into her without warning making her body jolt out.

“you just wanted to be fucked braindead, yeah? what a dumb girl” his hand still remain on her mouth not trusting she would be able to keep her voice down.

y/n put her hand on his hand that were buried deep inside her and pushing his fingers deeper into her starting to fuck herself on his fingers making him chuckle.

“think you deserve to cum after what you did earlier, hm?” draco said taking all the control in his hand and starts to thrusting his fingers deeper and faster.

his long fingers abused her cunt just like the way she needed and when he curls them inside she screamed, luckily his other hand still covering her. she was squirming there and then under his touch.

y/n rolled her eyes back in pleasure when his fingers meet her spot and pumping into it over and over again.

draco feels her walls clenching around him and quickly pulled them out of her leaving the girl whining.

“think about the consequences next time, princess.” draco turns her around and pushes her chest against the wall, placing her ass right in front of his crotch.

“i’m sorry i’m sorry draco! please i need to cum.. fuck me please dray punish me!” y/n finally let her voice out as his hands are too busy roaming around her body.

a hard smack delivered to her ass making a loud sound causing her to whimpered at the sting.

“stay quiet princess or i will not consider about giving you the chance to cum” she shuts her mouth instantly as draco unbuckled his pants letting it falls to his ankle.

y/n cant help but letting out high pitched moan when his hand came in contact with her marked ass again and when he pushed her panties aside finally lining up his cock against her entrance.

“now you will remember who you belong to.” draco said as he slammed all of his cock inside her, pounding into her right away not giving her time to adjust.

“oh fuck! y-yes dray..” y/n moans out loud which earned her another slap on her sore ass.

“quiet, brat” she tried to hold her moan by biting her lips but it just slipped off of her especially when his tip hit her spot.

draco’s eyes rolled back in pleasure, groaning quietly as he let himself disappear inside her going in and out of her with snaps of his hips, each time it gets harder and faster.

he roughly squeezed her breasts through her shirt making her shirt ruffled and messy before letting his hand down to circling her clit.

“make yourself cum, y/n.” he slaps her sensitive clit a few times making her writhed, ripping her orgasm through her body, she doesnt care anymore when she moaned his name out loud.

“feels so fucking good” with the last thrust, draco stilled and shoots his thick cum into her non stop, painting her walls white with his liquids over and over again making the girl moaned when her panties became sticky.

draco pulls out and put his pants back on. he stared at her fucked out body before turning her around to face him and quickly pressing their lips together kissing her passionately.

“next time just ask me if you want your needy pussy to get pounded hard by me. dont you dare do that stunt ever again.” y/n nodded at his words giving him a cheeky grin. sweats running through their bodies.

and when they opened the door, all the students that passed by giving them a weird look, draco smirked at them before pulling y/n back into a deep kiss.

“mine.”

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

pls i love this one-

tagging : @dracoscum (unblock me hoe) @hellounicorn @onyourgoddamnleft @whoreforgeorgeandfred @turn-to-page-394-please @underappreciated-spoon-321 @youreso-golden @silverdelirium @dracmalf0y-dm @f4iryluvy @famishedbeak @arzfia @starstruckgranger @lieswithoutfairytales @slut4dracoo @alexthealexthealex

#draco malfoy #draco malfoy smut #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy x y/n #draco malfoy x you #draco oneshot #draco fanfiction #draco smut #draco x reader #draco x y/n #draco x you #draco lucius malfoy #draco malfoy fluff #draco malfoy angst #harry potter

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

bb / gg, m | jjk

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

summary: Jeon Jungkook is the lead singer in a rock band and failed his Biology class last semester, so he has to take remedial classes over the summer. You're the Biology TA, double major in Psychology and Biology, watching him freak out over his make-up exam because he had overslept. Both of you are surrounded by rumors. Does the title stand for bad boy / good girl or bad bitch / good guy? Who knows.

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; not the healthiest dynamic tbh; slight angst due to perceived unrequited love; smut (fem reader, D/s dynamics, begging, scratching / marking, choking, handjob (he is still wearing underwear), multiple orgasms, cowgirl, hair pulling, edging / orgasm denial, cock ring usage, m-masturbation, cum-eating); non-idol!BTS – rock singer, sub!Jungkook x studious, dom!reader

yes, it's SOWOOZOO JK, both the first yellow tropical look and the shredded black shirt look; for those who wanted him to be dom!JK, there is a moment when he is but not in the way you think because that's how I operate

--

Jeon Jungkook was a bad boy.

Wore too much black, dyed his hair too much, had tattoos, always had girls hanging around him. Sang in a rock band on the weekends, played electric guitar, played the game of how-many-numbers-can-I-get tonight? Never gave a girl his leather jacket to wear but was happy to buy her a drink and flirt with her until she got hot with arousal.

You were a good girl.

Always wore a blazer. Crisp white dress shirt and pleated skirt underneath, usually in a dark color. Sensible heels, but always heels. Did too many units a semester because you were double majoring in psychology and biology. Always arrived to class early, always turned in your assignments on time, always turned in your tests early and aced that shit. Took physics with calculus even though you didn’t have to because it was the harder one and you wanted a challenge.

-

Against the wall, shoving a fist into the neck, lips to lips, teeth snapping, hand travelling down, whimpering pleas and harsh growls, keep crying, I like it, ecstasy and pain, nails to skin. Tearing clothes off, biting, marking, I own you, and then, yes, you do, mouth and tongue, aching pleasure, cocked eyebrow, mocking the pathetic whines and cries, stopping right before the end, no, please, I’ve been good, and, you take what you get, hand fitting onto the neck, squeezing the sides, eyes rolling back, skin to skin, bruising slaps that would be seen tomorrow in the mirror, traced with shaking fingers and pants of an open mouth, moaning at the memory of sky-high pleasure while lightheaded and thoughtless, desperate to do it again.

-

There was a rumor.

Everyone liked Jeon Jungkook. He had two smiles, an endearing one and a teasing one. Both encapsulated the kind of person he was, honest and playful. He always sang with conviction, he rapped with savagery, and his lyrics were always from the heart. He always hung out with his bandmates after their performances at bars and interacted with those that came up to him. No one ever said Jungkook was mean or rude in any way.

And yet.

There was a rumor.

A rumor that Jeon Jungkook was taken.

He was the kind of guy that always made sure a drunk girl got home safe even though he didn’t know them. Paid for their taxi and everything. He focused a lot on his music and writing lyrics he thought would connect with others while taking into account his band members. He always told the truth if a girl confessed to him, saying he wasn’t looking right now, that he was very sorry if she thought otherwise, that there was someone he was already interested in.

-

“Oi.”

You slammed a hand onto the tabletop and Jeon Jungkook jumped, the shredded black shirt he was wearing falling down his shoulder, revealing his ink black tattoos on his tan skin. He was wearing a black tank top underneath.

“What’s with you? You missed the exam for your remedial class and you’ve spent the past ten minutes spacing out at your make-up exam,” you barked, pointing to his empty exam sheet. “You haven’t even filled out you name.”

Jungkook swallowed hard. “S… Sorry.”

You frowned. Why was he apologizing to you? Honestly, why did you sign up for this summer TA position again? Oh, right, money and credits. Hmph. It was really just an excuse for the professor to slack off while you did the tedious things like grading and watching over idiots that skipped class. Sorry, overslept. Hung over, probably, since this was the Jeon Jungkook. Rockstar, hottie, famous in his own way.

Whatever.

He could be Jesus Christ and you would still be scolding him for missing his remedial Biology exam.

“Fill out your name so at least I can fail you properly.”

Not that it mattered, since you knew who he was. He didn’t know you knew who he was, and you had zero incentive to inform him that you were indeed aware of the existence of black-haired, tattooed, chiseled-jaw, sparkly-eyed Jeon Jungkook, all due to the constant snide remarks that followed you in your wake.

You wouldn’t be such a bitch if a guy like Jeon Jungkook put you in your place.

Who the fuck was Jeon Jungkook?

This guy, this weirdo about to fail his fucking Biology exam in front of your face.

Impatiently, you rolled up the sleeves of your gray blazer and grabbed a chair, dragging it up to the table. You snapped the chair down and sat in it, smoothing your skirt. You liked to be neat. Even though university didn’t have a uniform, you liked to keep some sort of uniform for yourself. There was a sense of security in knowing you didn’t have to select an outfit every morning. Today, white dress shirt, gray blazer, pleated black skirt that hit slightly higher than mid-thigh. Every other outfit was some variation of this and, in the winter, you wore thick stockings.

You clicked your heels together under the table sharply.

He flinched at the sound.

Jungkook wasn’t looking at you. He was mumbling at his paper.

“I… I think I studied the wrong chapters…”

You clicked your tongue. Jeez.

His hand was shaking so bad that his pen was practically vibrating. You leaned over the table, grabbing his fist to still it.

“Stop.”

Your bare knees hit his bare knees, mostly because he was wearing black jeans with giant holes in them. Jungkook froze, head snapping up, silver earrings jangling, black hair flying, undercut visible for a second.

“You want to pass this class or what?”

He nodded quickly in response.

“Good. I want to get out of here. Keep your mouth shut. Answer to the first question is A.”

His eyes widened.

“Are you… helping me cheat?” he whispered, terrified.

You cocked your head, letting go of his hand. “You said you studied the wrong chapters. I’m not spending forty-five minutes of my life to watch you panic and then ten minutes more failing you,” you replied lowly, dangerous edge to your voice.

“I… couldn’t… I mean…”

You shoved his knees open with yours, narrowing your eyes as he yelped, pleading look in those brown doe eyes. You pressed your knees on the inside of his thighs, keeping them open.

“Answer to the second question is C.”

When Jungkook didn’t move, you reached over and cupped his chin. Felt his racing heartbeat pounding through his veins, coursing through your fingertips. Stared deep into those eyes, lowering the octave of your voice, keeping his thighs spread for you under the table.

“Listen to me,” you murmured softly. “Okay, Jungkook?”

“O… Okay…”

And he did.

-

There was a rumor.

Nobody liked you. Maybe it was because of your high scores ruining the class test average. Maybe it was the dismissive way you spoke to people, almost demeaning. Most likely it was a combination of the two. Students talked behind your back all the time, spreading rumors. Friends? What friends? You had an average of twenty class credits a semester. You didn’t have time to make friends. And besides, why try to make friends when clearly nobody wanted to be your friend?

And yet.

There was a rumor.

You ignored such things. You didn’t need such distractions.

-

“It would be too suspicious if you got full marks. This score is high enough.”

“O… Okay…”

“Get on the table.”

Jungkook scrambled on the wooden tabletop as you pushed his exam aside. You were still sitting in your chair. Your head tilted, eyebrow lifting at his speedy response to your rather suspicious request.

“You listened.”

He blinked at you. “Uh… yeah?”

Silence.

“Why?” you finally said.

Jungkook gulped. “Be… because you asked,” he mumbled, knees on the table, hands clutching his knees.

“You can just walk out and report me.”

He shook his head quickly, black hair flying everywhere. “I don’t want to.”

Your other eyebrow raised. He chewed on his lip, a flash of pink tongue in his movement.

“Tell me what you want. I’ll do it.”

Well.

You decided to test his conviction.

“Edge of the table. Spread your legs for me.”

Instantly, obediently, Jeon Jungkook surprised you by doing it, putting each leg on either side of you, chunky black sneakers hanging down. Shredded black shirt open, hands behind his ass, towering over you, and yet his eyes were watching you, waiting for more, begging for instruction.

“Hm.”

You raised your chin, seeing his impressively muscular thighs and body displayed for you to take. He was so close you could smell his clean, dreamy scent, like a meadow in summer dusk, surrounded by peeking stars and blinking fireflies. Interesting.

But you didn’t need the distraction.

“That’s it. You can go now,” you said dismissively, about to push your chair back.

His legs closed in, pressing firmly into your upper arms. Your eyes flickered up to him.

Jungkook shook his head very slowly.

“Do what you want.”

You saw his chest rise and fall, his silvery voice deepening, pupils expanding.

“I know you want to do something to me.”

His erection was bulging against the zipper of his black jeans. Your eyes went back to his face. He shivered at your sharp stare. All of this was happening in an otherwise empty lecture hall, with you and Jungkook at the very bottom.

Just you and him.

You placed your hands on his thighs. He jumped a little, but scooted closer to you. You slid your hands up. You undid the button of his jeans, scrutinizing those brown eyes. He raised his hips to help you as you pulled the zipper down.

“You don’t know me,” you finally said, no inflection in your voice.

He didn’t look away. “I don’t care.”

“Hmm.” You smirked. “Bad boy, aren’t you?”

Jungkook shook his head slightly, but didn’t break eye contact as you pulled his pants to his knees and reached for his black boxer briefs. “No. I’m a good guy. I want to give you what you want.” You hooked your fingers over the waistband and nicked his skin with your nails, making him gasp, the pleasure evident in his tone. He did not try to hide it from you. “I want to be good for you.”

“Why is that?”

He hung his head a little.

“Something about… how you make me feel…” he muttered. His gaze finally faltered. You reached up and righted his chin, forcing him to look at you. Saw that Jungkook had a mole under his mouth, perfectly in the center. He had a nice shape to his pink lips. You tapped his cheek, nudging him to elaborate. “You… You’re so pretty… and smart… Everyone looks up to you because you have such good grades…”

You doubted that.

Jungkook probably had no idea that most of the school hated your guts.

You didn’t have classes with Jungkook, but you were sure he knew your name because your name was posted on the Dean’s List of the highest-ranking students of the university every semester. Also, you weren’t hard to miss. Every student moved out of your way when you walked through the halls, whispering behind their hands.

Jungkook brought you back to the present.

“I feel,” he whispered, voice trembling, gaze locking with yours. “I feel like I want to be on my knees for you.”

His skin was warm under your nails.

“Like this is where I belong, in your hands.”

You stood up.

Jungkook started, turning into a tight squeak as you placed your hand on his chest and pushed him down.

“Lift up your shirt with both hands.”

He did was he was told, revealing his toned abs and the lower half of his pecs, biting his lip, clutching onto his tank top, ears turning red as he craned his head to look down at you. You didn’t give him any satisfying response. His tan skin seemed to glow under the overhead lights. You studied his face.

Reached up and began to rub his erection through his underwear.

“A… ah…”

“Gonna make you cum like this.”

He shook his head quickly. “P… Please, no…”

You felt him swell and twitch under your hand. He was pretty big. Thick. Pretty boy with a pretty dick, probably. You rubbed the head with your palm, feeling his pre-cum leaking through the thin fabric. He wasn’t kidding when he said you made him feel some kind of way.

“Why not? Make you cum in your underwear and then you have to go all the way home covered in it. All dirty, just for me.”

His handsome face twisted with sinful pleasure at your suggestion, whimpers in his throat. His cock jerked with need, wanting it.

“O… Okay. Whatever you want.”

So obedient.

“So obedient, Jungkook,” you purred, rubbing faster.

He nodded. “For you. Only for you. Just for you.”

Was it just saying those things because he thought that was what you wanted to hear? Or was that how he actually felt? Surely not the latter, considering he didn’t really know you. You leaned over him, placing your free elbow on the table to stabilize yourself. You hadn’t even kissed him.

“You’re so hard for me,” your drawled, lowering your head, letting your warm breath float down onto his skin. “You want to cum for me, don’t you?”

“Y… yes, please…”

“You want to be my toy?”

You pressed your lips to his bellybutton, feeling the smoothness of his skin, tasting it. He moaned at your kiss, your swift tongue flickering out to that delicious skin, whining when your teeth nipped at the softness. Fuck, he tasted so good that you wanted to mark him. Looked so fucking good that you wanted to mess him up, mar him with temporary imperfections on the perfection that was Jeon Jungkook.

“Yes…”

With breathless, lustful conviction.

You licked up his abs, increasing the intensity and speed of rubbing the engorged head of his cock, the pre-cum already soaked through and creating a slippery surface, turning Jungkook’s pitched whines to deep moans, a melody that filled up the entire lecture hall until was the only thing you could hear, Jungkook’s moans as you bit his skin, his moans as you sucked on his skin, moans as you kissed the hard muscle, cries for more at you left marks, pleading for you, sweet and beautiful, clutching his shirt so tight that his knuckles were white, the black tattoos of his right hand standing out, his cock throbbing in your hand, his hips rising to hump your palm, your name on his lips, over and over and over.

“Gonna… gonna cum…” he panted, sniffing slightly, cheeks flushing pink. “Gonna cum like how you want me to, all over my underwear…”

Your fingertips touched his side, seeing him stiffen and then shudder at your gentle caress.

“Do it,” you murmured. “Show me how good you are at listening, Jungkook.”

He bit his lower lip, jaw clenching, squeezing his eyes shut, tipping his head back into the tabletop, whining your name in his chest, your palm working him, slick and hot and hard, pulsating under your roughness. With a sharp moan, his lower lip popped out of his teeth, dark red and swollen, small mole quivering.

“F-Fuck…!”

You felt it and heard it, the unmistakable jolt and squelch as his orgasm splattered inside his boxer briefs, drenching the fabric, drenching your hand, his embarrassed whines as he realized what he had done but still humping your hand, forcing out every last twitch of dribbling cum, causing you to smear it everywhere, coating the sensitive head and adding to the pleasure, his cheeks flushed red, eyes squeezed shut to savor the pleasure and avoid looking at you.

“Shh…”

You crawled onto the table, still holding his cock through his soiled underwear, squeezing it, free hand slipping under his head and lifting him, his eyes weakly opening, scared and anxious, but all you did was lean down and kiss him, pressing your lips to that pure softness, exhaling his name into his mouth, his scent staining your hand, his cologne filling your nose, your whisper in his throat.

“Time for you to go home.”

-

Jungkook thought you would tell everyone.

You did no such thing.

Instead, you ignored him.

He would see you three times a week and, three times a week, you arrived with the professor and left with the professor. Jungkook tried much harder to attend classes, but you seemed not to care either way. He would come to the front and collect his assignment and find that you had marked it up exactly like everyone else, red marks all over his incorrect answers. You didn’t even look in his direction.

The next exam was coming up quickly.

Part of him considered skipping exam day to have one-on-one time with you again.

“Jungkook.”

He jumped, jerking his head towards the hall, confused. Somehow, he had heard your voice. Or rather, did he imagine it? His teeth sunk into his lip, placing a hand on his forehead, confused. His head was confused. He couldn’t think straight. Why had he done such an embarrassing thing with you? Even you had told him to leave and report you. But Jungkook just couldn’t. Not then and not now. He had asked for it.

He still wanted it.

Nobody knew. Everybody thought he was a cocky, womanizing playboy. And he was, but not because of the sex. It was only because he was bored and that was all he could get. There was power in being on top.

And there was power in letting go.

You were bad for him.

He was a good guy.

You were a bad bitch.

And nobody knew.

A hand slapped down on his shoulder and yanked him around, the loose short sleeves of his yellow tropical shirt flaring out, making his sunglasses rattle on his face. You narrowed your eyes at him. Instant shivers down his spine at your stern gaze.

“Are you deaf?” you snapped. “I’ve been calling your name for the past minute.”

“I… S-Sor–”

You waved a hand dismissively, grabbing his right hand and slapping down a post-it into it.

“Chapters for the exam, including the date and time. Do not miss it this time. I will not let you make it up and fail you on the spot.”

You turned on your heel, letting go of his hand.

His left one shot out and circled around your arm, his rings pressing into your skin.

“Wait.”

You jerked your head towards him, glaring sharply. “Don’t touch me.”

And you yanked your arm out of his grasp, but his legs made the choice for him, following your swift strides, his backpack hanging off one shoulder, clutching the post-it and his last strands of sanity.

“Please, wait.”

“What?” was your curt response, not looking back at him.

“Please do it again,” he gasped breathlessly, unable to stop himself.

“Do what?”

“Have your way with me.”

You stopped walking.

Jungkook walked straight into your back and banged his nose on your head. He winced, stepping back and rubbing it gingerly. He didn’t register you turning around until it was too late and you were right in his face. You raised your chin and eyebrow simultaneously.

“No.”

He blinked rapidly, his tinted sunglasses halfway down the bridge of his nose.

“W… Why? Did you not like it? Was… was I bad?”

You let out an amused scoff.

The side of your lips curved upwards.

He had made you smile, even if only a little bit. Just that small thing was enough to feed his courage.

“I…” Jungkook coughed, clearing his throat before he spoke again, voice still a soft whisper in his embarrassment even though no one was around to eavesdrop. “I can be better. I can do better.”

Silence.

He thought you were going to walk away again.

You reached up and plucked his glasses off his nose. Folded them neatly and tucked them in his tropical shirt pocket. Then your eyes found his again and he knew something was different. He could see you clearly now, his vision no longer clouded by sienna.

Now, Jungkook could no longer stop it.

He could feel it all over him, coursing through his veins, arousal like fire. Something about you and something about him. Jungkook could sense the danger, but he didn’t want to run even though he knew he should. He had heard the rumors surrounding you. They could be true.

And yet.

“I want it,” Jungkook breathed, inviting himself into the danger. “I want you. I want to be your toy.”

Your discerning expression didn’t change.

You reached up and gripped his chin, digging your nails into his soft skin.

He whimpered in his chest, moving closer to you.

“What’s my name?”

His brows furrowed, saying your name hesitantly.

You pulled his chin down so he was eye-level.

“Next time you say my name, I will be choking it out of you.”

-

Everyone thought Jeon Jungkook was the kind of guy to grip your wrist with his left hand and your throat in his right, his lips against your ear and his sweaty chest against your back as you slapped your ass into his crotch and fucked yourself with his rock-hard cock, his smirk in your ear as he provided you with a certain type of encouragement.

“That’s right, you want this dick, don’t you? Show me. Prove to me you want it.”

His fingertips tightening against the sides of your neck, listening to your pathetic cries and moans as you tried to squirm against him, brain running out of oxygen due to lack of blood, running out of thoughts, running out of pleas as Jungkook gripped your wrist, deep snarl against your hair as he roughly finished himself off using your body because that’s all you were, someone to be used by him and nothing more, neck suddenly released with a breathless gasp and shoved face first into the sheets with his right hand splayed on your back, his tattoos and your orgasm crashing down on you, his growls staining the air and a fierce jerk of his hips to spill into your tight hole and leave you moments after, nothing but a discarded toy in his eyes.

You thought.

That was what everyone thought when Jeon Jungkook stood on stage, flipping his dark violet microphone between verses and smirking like a devil, truly in command of every thought and every pair of eyes on him, surrounded by a heavy bass line and deafening drums, guitar solo tearing through the moment to emphasize the next of his lips nearing the mic again, entrancing the crowd with his beautiful lips and talented tongue.

No one knew.

-

You were riding him hard and fast, torn condom wrappers and used condoms littering his bed, back-to-back orgasms, his head pressed into his pillows, your hand around his neck, the other leaving long lines down his chest, scratching him so hard that it dotted red, blooming lines of pain.

“Don’t stop, please don’t stop, f-fuck…”

Jungkook was hoarsely whispering, clutching his sheets, black hair soaked with sweat, raising his chest to your nails, whimpering, punish me, punish me, punish me, and you muttered plainly with a sharp edge, you talk too much, your grip tightening again, pressing onto the sides of his neck, cutting off the blood flow, and Jungkook moaned gratefully, eyelids fluttering, the slap of your hips to his louder and louder, filling up his whole bedroom, rattling his bedframe, fucking him so hard he was slowly sliding up to his headboard.

Your name fell from his lips in pure ecstasy, back arching to shove his whole length fully into you, thick and hard and twitching with need, your slick walls clamping down on him, fitting to him with a hiss. He began to match you, breathless, lightheaded, world hazy, moaning from deep in his chest, I love you, and your reply was only tightening your grip, your hand and your pussy, harder, harder, harder.

“Aren’t you such a good guy?” you scoffed sarcastically, letting up for only a second to let him reply, blood rocketing back into his brain, flooding him with oxygen, and Jungkook sucked in a lungful of air, reeling.

“N-No…” he panted. “You’re the good girl… you’re always s-so… so good to me…”

His eyes locked with yours hazy with lust and love. You almost looked away out of instinct.

“You a-always remember… what I like…” he managed to choke out.

-

You left him when you were done using him.

You pretended he didn’t say those words to you. There was no point in acknowledging the nonsense that he said in the middle of being choked and barely functioning. You tapped your pencil against your textbook.

You caught yourself thinking about him.

Jeon Jungkook.

Your eyes flickered to the clock. Late at night on a Friday. He was probably at a bar. You watched the second hand of your plain silver clock tick, tick away. You never asked to watch him and his band perform even though Jungkook always made it a point to text you the address and the time.

It was obvious Jungkook didn’t want you to be his secret.

He wasn’t really your secret either. You just saw no benefit to letting anyone know there was a connection between you and Jeon Jungkook. After all, you were just using him.

You stopped tapping your pencil.

Stared at the second hand.

Tick.

Heard the voices of the rumors poisoning you, saying the things they said.

She thinks she’s so much better than everyone else because she’s a nerd.

The only reason she has good grades is because she fucked that one professor.

I heard she dated him.

I mean, there’s a reason he left in the middle of the semester, right?

He had a wife!

Snap.

Your eyes flickered down.

The tip of your pencil lead rolled across the page, leaving tiny pinpricks of granite.

There was never any evidence because nothing happened. Nothing happened between you and said psychology professor. He left in the middle of the semester because his wife had a miscarriage and he wanted to be with her. It had nothing to do with you. You had long discussions with him about life and existentialism, hanging out during his office hours.

Sometimes, you felt bad.

Had you kept him from his wife? Would it have not happened if he just skipped his office hours and didn’t spend them talking to you? These were irrational, foolish thoughts. They made you guilty even when there was nothing to be guilty about.

He was a nice guy, mid-thirties. Everyone liked this professor.

They blamed you because they didn’t know.

Only you knew, because he told you with tears in his eyes and thanked you for being his student.

You didn’t tell anyone, because he did not owe you an explanation and you were not going to divulge someone’s personal business that they had shared with you in confidence. You watched your reputation crumble and fall apart, watched friends ostracize you, because you didn’t tell them anything and they didn’t believe you. You watched yourself turn bitter and hateful.

Just tell the truth.

There was no truth to be told.

You put your pencil down.

Closed your eyes.

Remembered Jungkook’s face.

-

Your hands were in his hair, pulling hard. His hot breath was in your face, arms shaking as he held himself up, fucking you into his mattress with whines in his chest, begging you, begging you, begging you.

“P-Please… let me cum, please…”

You liked to watch the sweat clinging to his high cheekbones and neck, jaw glistening with tension, feeling his strong body between your legs, his twitching hardness sliding into you repeatedly in rough, hard smacks, squeezing him every time he was fully sheathed inside you, vibrations coursing through you every time he came down.

“Not until I’m done,” you growled and he whimpered, pleading look in those brown doe eyes, black pupils expanded, unable to cum because a vibrating cock ring was restricting his orgasm, keeping him hard but unable to climax, sending thundering pleasure through him and into you. He watched helplessly as you gripped his hair, hissing sharply as another wave of pleasure overtook you, closing your eyes to savor it, savor his swollen cock twitching inside you as he felt the intense massage of your pussy walls closing around him, throbbing around the head and driving him insane, moaning pathetically because he couldn’t follow suit no matter how desperate he was.

Jungkook didn’t ask if you were done.

He just kept going because you told him he couldn’t cum until you were done.

And you didn’t say you were done.

You stared into those brown orbs, hazy with lust and full of conviction to be good for you.

Desperate to be the best and the only one, not knowing there was no one else because no one else wanted you like the way Jeon Jungkook wanted you.

“Pull out.”

“B-But…”

“You heard me,” you exhaled, throbs of pleasure still trembling through you. Your hands slid down, cupping his chin, nails digging into his sweaty cheeks. “Obey.”

With a pained whine, Jungkook obeyed, pulling out of you, his cock covered in your juices, wearing a condom and the black cock ring. You reached over with one hand to press the button on the remote to turn in off.

“Take it all off. Let me see your cock.”

He reached down and slowly pulled the cock ring off, taking the condom with it, whimpering at the sensitivity, his tone hitting a lovely pitched groan as the silicone squeezed the base of the head. His whole body was shaking as it fell from his hands, the veins on his length standing out, head purple-red and angry, white pre-cum slowly beading at the tip, and his face, looking down at you, waiting for your next move.

Cock waiting to be used.

You tapped your chest.

“Cum on my tits.”

“B-But–”

You cut him off.

“You’re going to cum on my tits and then you’re going to lick it off while I watch.”

-

He listened.

Jungkook straddled your waist with his thighs, muscular and defined, right hand wrapping around his cock, sweat making the tattoos on his forearm and shoulder glow in the low light, smelling like sex and musk, his core tightening as he touched his overstimulated length, using the lube of the condom and his own pre-cum to add to the pleasure as he began to stroke himself, moaning as you lifted your hands and cupped your breasts, pushing them together, his eyes on the curve of your cleavage and points of your hard nipples sticking out, and then your face, an indifferent look with a cocked eyebrow, taunting him, unimpressed by his timid grip on his cock, so he squeezed harder, tighter, embarrassing cries falling from his mouth, living for the smirk that slowly began to form on your lips.

It empowered him somehow, that smirk, the little inkling of satisfaction that Jungkook wanted, needed, craved, knowing he was doing well, being good, furiously pumping his aching cock over your pressed-together tits and he couldn’t last, couldn’t help it, too overstimulated and too turned on, too in love with this to prevent himself from tipping over with a hot gasp, spilling streams of sticky white lines over your breasts, spreading them everywhere, making a huge mess because he wanted a huge mess to clean up, shoving the head into your cleavage and shuddering at the sensation of warmth to his scorching heat, able to feel the pulse of the engorged tip dripping out what was left, shivers up and down his spine, the words falling from his mouth that he never stopped saying even though you never acknowledged them.

“I... l-love you…”

He stayed like that for nearly a full minute, but you didn’t tell him to get off.

His eyes were closed, savoring the feeling.

Slowly, Jungkook gingerly removed himself, lowering his body over yours, tongue sliding out, touching your skin covered in his cum, his taste, mine, no one else’s, him on you, lapping it up, salty and bitter and yet he loved it, loved that you told him to do it, loved that you let him paint your skin with his orgasm and now his saliva. He didn’t care that you never said anything to his I love you, didn’t care that you seemed to pretend he never said it, because he would continue saying it when he was with you, hopeless as it was.

It was the small things that kept him going, sucking his own cum off your nipple and wrapping his lips around it, hearing your soft sigh of pleasure, feeling the tap on his thigh that instructed him to scoot up, the small thing of your hand closing in on his spent cock, sending sparks of pain but also pleasure, moaning into your skin as you massaged his balls with your fingers, knowing that he could take more pressure and roughness because he had just came, the small thing of your thumb rubbing the sensitive slit, his face pressing into your breasts, smearing his cheek with his cum and saliva, sliding across your slick skin because of the intensity of the high it gave him, the pleasure and the pain, his right arm coming up to wrap around you, tattoos cradling your torso.

“I love you…” he whispered to your racing heart under his ear, lost in the rhythm of your heartbeat and the firmness of your touch. Jungkook did not care if you hated him saying it.

He would continue saying it as long as he was with you.

-

“What are you doing?”

“Nothing…?”

“Hmm.”

He placed his hand over the bottom of his phone and smiled at the cute girl that was talking to him at the bar.

“Sorry. I have to take this call. It’s important to me.”

He didn’t hear her response, because he backed away, bowing lightly, pressing his phone back to his ear.

“Ah, never mind, Jungkook.”

“No, no. What is it? Tell me.”

“You’re at a noisy place. It’s Saturday night.”

Jungkook pushed through the people, mumbling his apologies and straining to hear your voice over the thundering bass. “I finished. Well, we finished. We’re only drinking. I can leave at any time. I’ll just text the guys to bring my equipment back for me. Where are you?”

“Forget it.”

He opened the door of the club as the dial tone rang in his ear.

Looked up.

Your hand dropped to your side. You were still in your white dress shirt and navy skirt, dressed exactly like you were when at school minus the blazer. Jungkook’s eyes widened. He was in a torn-up long-sleeve shirt with the right sleeve removed, showing off his tattoos. His black hair was wild and half-wet, and he was wearing tight leather pants.

You clicked your tongue.

“I said forget it,” you repeated hollowly.

You sighed and turned around, skirt swishing in your wake.

“Wait, I’ll come with you–”

“Go back to where you belong, Jungkook.”

His hand closed around your forearm, holding tight.

“I belong with you.”

You stopped walking, silent.

“What is it? Tell me.”

You scowled. “It’s dumb.”

“So am I, remember?” he chuckled, his hand slipping down, squeezing yours. “I’m not very good at school.”

You didn’t say anything for a moment. Cars and people brushed past, but Jungkook was focused onto on your stillness, watching your eyes seemed to be thinking about many things. You hadn’t pulled your hand out of his yet. By now, Jungkook knew that if you didn’t want something, you wouldn’t be shy about telling him right away.

You started walking again. Jungkook was still holding your hand.

“It was just a moment of weakness,” you mumbled under your breath.

“A guy…?”

You didn’t answer.

Jungkook squeezed your hand. “It’s okay,” he murmured tightly. “I understand.”

He did not. He wanted to cry.

Your eyes shot to him, pinning him in place. “You don’t understand, Jeon Jungkook. You understand nothing.” You pulled your hand out of his and Jungkook let go, trying to hold his pain, trying not to breathe because he was preparing himself for the inevitable, the moment you were going to break his heart and, if it was right here and right now, then so be it, because he had said how he felt repeatedly and there was nothing more he could do than that.

He loved you so, so bad.

Jungkook knew he shouldn’t, that it was madness, but he did anyway.

But you surprised him.

Your sharp gaze softened.

“You know what they say about me. You have to know,” you exhaled, shaking your head. “You must know the rumors.”

Good girl gone bad.

Jungkook frowned. “About you and the professor?”

He watched your jaw clench.

“Does it matter?” he asked.

Your eyes shifted, not quite looking at him.

“Whether something did or didn’t happen, what does that have to do with me?”

And now you looked at him, guarded, not letting him know your thoughts.

“You…” He swallowed, trying to press the lump down in his throat. “You’re just using me, right? It doesn’t… doesn’t really matter, because in the end I don’t matter to you anyway… right?”

He did not want to cry and yet he did, because he knew he loved you. It was the small things, the way you never let up on him even in class, the way you picked days that were never the weekend and never before exams, the way you would brush your fingertips on his knuckles before leaving when you thought he was asleep, the way on the last time, the last time you were together, that you pressed your lips to his forehead when you thought he was asleep, running your fingers through his hair.

Jungkook was standing outside this bar and there were people he knew walking past, seeing you and him, but he kept his eyes on you, because the only one that mattered was you.

The one he belonged to was you.

He had decided that when he climbed onto the table that day.

He stuck his hands in his pockets and let out a heavy breath. “If people say things about you, then they say things about you. Whether it’s the truth or not doesn’t change the fact I love you. It doesn’t make me love you less,” Jungkook said, speaking at his usual volume, because there was no reason to whisper the truth. “Even if it’s pointless and crazy, I want to be with you until the day you don’t want to be with me.”

His smiled and blinked back tears.

“Even if that day is today, I will never regret it.”

In this cruel summer, you could have ruined his reputation. You could have told everyone the kind of person he really was and you didn’t. You could have spread embarrassing stories of the things you made him do and you didn’t.

Even if he didn’t matter to you, Jungkook was confident that you weren’t a malicious person.

You rubbed your forehead. “The rumors will come to you.”

Jungkook laughed. “So what? I heard a rumor that I removed two ribs so I could suck my own dick. I admit, I considered doing it after hearing that.”

You scowled, but Jungkook only smiled in return. He could see the tension falling from your face with his comment. You clicked your tongue and tilted your head, as if to say, can’t be helped.

“There’s no other guy,” you muttered. “There’s just you and you’re dumb.”

Jungkook blinked rapidly, confused.

“You say it over and over and make me think about it all the time.” You sighed heavily, running a hand through your hair. “I’m not a good girl. People pushed me away and I stayed there instead of trying to repair the burned bridges. I don’t even think I want to repair them. Who knows what will happen next? I don’t think it would be a good idea to put you through that shit.”

You sucked on the inside of your cheek, looking at him apologetically.

“You’re not the bad boy everyone says you are. You’re a good guy. You should find a good girl.”

Is that what you think? Jungkook chuckled, taking out his hand and rubbing his nose thoughtfully.

“I don’t want a good girl.”

He stepped toward you, lowering his hand and his head so that he was eye level with you.

“I love a bad bitch who can push me around and makes me their toy.”

He tilted his head, small curve on those beautiful lips, tiny mole underneath appearing with every smile.

“Which can only be you, you know.”

Jungkook didn’t try to kiss you. He only wanted to look into your eyes so you knew his conviction.

“I love you.”

You raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah, I’ve heard you say it.”

He nodded. “And I’m going to keep saying it until the day you leave me.”

Silence.

Ah.

Your eyebrow lowered and you gave him an indifferent look.

“Hm. I wonder when that will be, Jungkook.”

You leaned in, but before you kissed him, he heard the whisper against his lips, felt the shape of yours as they brushed against his, words he prepared himself to never hear from you, words that he thought you would never say, and that was fine with him, because you showed it, and that was enough.

He thought.

“I love you.”

And then your lips on his and his tears fell onto your cheeks because Jungkook wanted to cry all this time and he could not stop now, knowing that he was so, so in love with you and you finally, finally said it back to him.

--

masterpost

#jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #bts smut #jungkook x you #jeon jungkook smut #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x you

[mhysa-leesi]

му вℓσσ∂у ναℓєηтιηє

{Gif Source} {Gif Source 2}

Pairing: Dark!Steve Rogers 𝒳 (femme) Reader 🩸.

Summary: "Steve Rogers is madly in love with you and he'll do anything for you to see that--no matter who gets in his way."

Word Count: 4,765 (Sorry, this is a long one!)

TW‼: Non-Con, Smut, Stalking, Yandere Themes, Murder (Description of Side-Character Death), Blood, Description of Gore, and Strong Language. 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI‼

AN: This story contains adult and dark themes, please do not proceed if you are under the age of 18 or if ANY of these warnings upset you! I am not responsible for your media consumption–you and only you are. Also, I used one of the prompts from (@the-modern-typewriter) to describe a character's death, ALL CREDIT GOES TO THEM. 𝒯𝒽𝒶𝓃𝓀 𝓎𝑜𝓊.

AN Cont.: If you or anyone you know has been a victim of sexual violence, please reach out for help. I do not condone ANY of the actions described in this story, this is merely a work of FICTION.

The first love letter was delivered on a gloomy Friday afternoon. The clouds above the city were dark and full of frigid torrents of rainfall. Gold and scarlet autumn leaves whispered against the chilly winds as acorns scattered about; rolling and cracking underfoot as you made your everyday walk to work. You had chosen to stray from your usual route that day, deciding on a new corner coffee shop instead of your normal stop.

You remembered that day clearly, as if it had happened just yesterday. The new coffee shop was a small, hole in the wall with plastic vines of ivy and fairylights rimming the framework of the inside. You ordered rich and dark coffees, with creamy oat milk for you and your coworkers, and an apple pecan oatmeal cookie for yourself.

Your workday was seemingly the same as any other. Pam was gossiping with Susan, and Scott was hiding from Mark, your manager, in the breakroom. You remember you were seated at your cubicle when things turned, staring at the rain against the window, and tapping your pen against your notepad, when you were startled by the mail carrier. He handed you a single, pink envelope with a heart stamp on its flap and left with a mumbled “you’re welcome”. You frowned as there was no return address or other name besides yours. You had opened it anyway.

You remembered how your frown had deepened as your stomach dropped. The paper trembled in your hands as you stared at the small heart sketched at the bottom. You frantically looked around the office for any sign of a joke, hoping to see one of your coworkers giggling at your shocked reaction. But everyone had their noses deep into their screens, typing away at their work. You turned the letter over, looking for a name or a clue as to who had sent it. But it was blank.

And you remembered how you had crumpled up the letter and tossed it as you refocused and finished the rest of that workday.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Weeks passed before you got another mysterious love letter delivered to your desk, a small bouquet of roses and baby’s-breath with it. And again, you crumpled it up and threw it away; leaving the flowers in the breakroom. You had made a mental note that day to talk to the mailman about the delivery of these letters.

For a time they stopped and you thought you were out of the woods or thought your secret admirer had lost interest at the very least. But you were wrong. Your third envelope had been waiting for you in your mailbox when you had gotten home from work one Monday evening. You didn’t bother opening it as you sent it straight to the garbage.

You were growing paranoid and antsy as you constantly looked over your shoulder. You’d freeze every time you came across an envelope, even if it was just your monthly rent notice or bank statement. You had refused to live like this, in a constant state of anxiety and fear, so, that’s how you found yourself moving into a new apartment across town.

You were met with months of peace, you were finally readjusting to life before the letters. You had even moved in with someone you had been seeing from your new job, Chris. He was perfect, someone straight from a romance novel; tall, dark, and handsome, with a taste for adventure and romance. You were happy with him--you were in love and had long since decided that if Chris were to ask you to marry him, you’d say yes in a heartbeat.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Today was your anniversary with Chris, and the two of you had an entire evening planned. Dinner at your favorite restaurant, a surprise showing of your favorite movie at the corner cinema, and then home, where you’d give him his gift. A red lacy lingerie set with fuzzy handcuffs, and a silk blindfold to match.

Your heart skipped and your stomach alighted with butterflies as you touched up your makeup in the bathroom mirror. The evening had been absolutely perfect and it was about to get even better. You stepped out into the bedroom, dressed in nothing but red lace and a bathrobe. A spritz of perfume here and a mint there, and you were ready to go surprise your man.

You walked out into the living room and seductively leaned against the wall, watching as he poured two glasses of red wine. He turned and froze, swallowing hard as he abandoned the drinks on the kitchen counter. You smirked as he pulled you to him by your hips, instantly locking his lips to yours. He looked down at you through his eyelashes, his deep brown eyes darkened with lust, and you couldn’t help but bite your lip. You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him down to your lips once more.

Your eyes closed and moaned as he peppered kisses along the curve of your neck, tilting your head back to give him better access. His hands roamed your body hotly, squeezing and caressing your dips and curves. Chris entangled his hands in your hair as he moved you to the counter, lifting you up as if you weighed nothing. He pushed your robe down your shoulders to reveal the red lace hidden underneath, and with a groan, he bent to trace the rosette lacework that covered your breasts with his tongue. You hummed and wrapped your legs around his waist, your hands running down his back to toy with the bottom hem.

Chris gently pushed you down to an angle as he kissed down your body, stopping just below your navel to wink up at you. You bit back a laugh as you wiggled your hips impatiently as you leaned back on your hands. With your fingers splayed against the wooden countertop, your touch met something smooth and waxy--like the waxy seal of an envelope. You reached behind you and grabbed a pink envelope, with a wax stamp of a heart on its flap. Your heart seemed to stop as you stared at the envelope in your hands.

You vaguely felt Chris’s lips on your inner thighs, kissing and nipping at your skin. When he heard no reaction from you, he looked up, his brows furrowed and eyes full of questions.

“What’s that?” he asked, “You wrote me a love letter, too?” he winked as he reached for it.

You jerked it away from his grasp, your heart hammering in your chest as you ripped open the flap; ripping the waxy heart in half.

P.S. You should really lock your windows, doll. You jumped off the counter and ran to the windows, each one was locked--except for one. You locked it and double-checked its strength, fighting against the lock as you tried to open it.

“Babe? (Y/N),” Chris said sternly, snapping you out of your trance.

You looked at him now. You didn’t know what to say, you couldn’t think of how to form the words. You wanted to say everything was fine and okay, but it wasn’t--it was far from it. Whoever had been writing and sending you these knew where you lived now, and that scared you. After months of trying so hard to move on from this, you felt as if you were right back at square one again.

The rest of the night was unclear to you. You moved like a zombie, your brain on autopilot as you crawled into bed to hide under the covers until the morning sun rose. Chris asked questions, of course. But you had no answers for him. You had no idea who had been writing them and had absolutely no clue how they had found you again.

Chris had suggested going to the police, but what could they do? No one had physically harassed you, and although creepy, the letters weren’t threatening. And not to mention, you had thrown away most of your evidence. You were at a loss. Chris was supportive, always there to comfort you during the night when you were restless, but that never kept you from feeling alone.

Your paranoia increased tenfold by the end of that week. You changed your daily routine every few days, hoping that’d throw your stalker off your trail, but it never did. They always seemed ten steps ahead of you, whereas you struggled to even think to keep up with them. Your breaking point was reached on Sunday evening as you met with one of your old friends from high school for breakfast-dinner--an old tradition you two had decided to revive for the night.

Things were going good, and you even dared to forget about your own issues as you cut into your syrup-soaked pancakes. Madison was telling you about her newest fling and how good he was in the sack, and you genuinely found yourself happy to listen to the vulgar details. After painting you a vivid picture of her sex life, Madison excused herself to the restroom; leaving you alone with your pancakes and empty cup of iced coffee.

You saw a head of electric blue hair and you perked up. Your waitress came with a smile and handed you a paper cup of steaming coffee and a single napkin.

“Oh, I didn’t order this,” you said with a polite smile.

“A gentleman ordered this for you,” she winked before walking away.

You frowned as you looked at the writing on the napkin. Refusing to even acknowledge the cup of coffee in front of you.

Your mouth went dry as you stared at the familiar handwriting. Brown dress, he knew what you were wearing--he was here. You shot to your feet, the chair scraping loudly against the floor, as you looked around frantically, ignoring all of the judgemental looks and hushed whispers you were getting.

“You okay, (Y/N)?” asked Madison, her brows knitted in concern.

“Yeah,” you lied, “I just… I’m sorry, but I have to go. I’ll call you later, Mads.”

You dug through your wallet and gave a twenty to your waitress on your way out, only stopping to yell over your shoulder for her to keep the change. You practically ran home from the restaurant as your anxiety started to settle in your bones, making you heavy with unease. You called Chris, but were only met with his voicemail. The elevator ride up to your floor was tortuous as you watched the floor numbers slowly light up one by one until finally, they stopped at your floor. You panted as you slammed the door shut behind you, sliding the lock and chain in place as you dropped your head to rest against the wooden frame.

You sniffled as the words from his letter were seared into your eyelids. You just wanted him to leave you alone, you didn’t know what you did to catch his eye, and worst of all, you didn’t know how to make it stop. You choked on your hiccupped breaths as tears streaked down your cheeks. When you finally calmed down you switched on the lights and finally turned around…

You stared at Chris in horror. Blood drenched the entire living room, his corpse sat limp in a chair like a broken, bloody doll. His throat and wrists had been slashed. You tried to hold your hand over the open wounds as you screamed for help, but no matter the pressure you applied, the blood still gushed and seeped through your fingers, oozing down your arm, and dripping from your elbow. The gore of it all brought waves of nausea that went beyond physical retching, the sickness you felt was indescribable. But the smell, the smell was something much worse. Metallic, iron, copper… Your ears started to ring. You couldn’t hear, couldn’t breathe. You could only stare at the bloodstain on your hands and scream.

You left that following weekend, abandoning the big city to move back in with your parents and younger sister. You spent most of your days locked in your room, hiding from the world under the comfort of your blanket and drawn curtains. Days turned to weeks, and weeks to months. You’d look at yourself in the mirror and cry as you no longer recognized yourself as the woman you once were. You knew it was time to move on, but you couldn’t, not when you’d see Chris’s bloodied body every time you’d close your eyes.

You started small by taking baby steps toward your recovery. It started with family meals, then a cashier job at your local supermarket, shopping trips with your mother and sister. Then you eventually graduated to therapy, where you’d stare at a forest green ceiling as you reclined on the chaise longue. Therapy helped and it was admittedly one of the better moments of your monotonous days, you felt heard, seen, as you walked through your own thoughts and nightmares. Your appointments even inspired you to reach out to Chris’s parents for closure, to go with them to visit their son’s grave. It was bittersweet, leaving behind a bouquet of roses for the man you had loved so deeply instead of a kiss goodbye; but it was something you knew you’d have to come to terms with. It wasn’t your fault, that was the mantra you’d tell yourself when you’d catch glimpses of his blood on your hands.

Before you knew it a year had passed since the incident, and in that year, you had not received one letter. You had made a resolution for the first time that New Year’s Eve as you waited for the midnight ball to drop. You told yourself you’d forget, to start fresh, and become an even better version of yourself. You were a flower that was fighting against all odds to blossom.

You cut your hair, got bangs and highlights. Saved up for a brand new, off-the-lot car. And moved into a cozy apartment with your sister. Things were looking up for you and you truly believed that you had finally found your way out of the woods. But life had a habit of playing cruel tricks on those who were naive enough to believe such a thing.

It was mid-February, just a few days before Valentine’s Day, when things started to go to shit. You had just come back from the gym with your sister when you saw it. A pink envelope with no return address or any other name besides yours, with a wax seal in the shape of a heart on the back flap, sat on your pillow. It felt like it weighed a thousand pounds as you held it in your hands. You debated on throwing it away, on pretending you never received it. But you wanted to know what more this twisted bastard could have to say. You ripped it open and read.

You didn’t hesitate as you ripped the letter to shreds, throwing the pieces into the garbage with an angry grunt. Delusional piece of deranged shit, you thought. You raked through your brain for the millionth time since your first letter, trying to figure out who the fuck could possibly be the sender, but you came to the same conclusion you had been coming to for years--nothing. It was agonizing, not knowing who your torturer was. It was your shadow, how could you not know who was living in it? But, no matter how hard you thought, you kept drawing blank after blank.

Your sister comforted you with a glass of wine and dumplings from the takeout place up the street. She was going out tonight, but offered to stay home with you instead.

“No,” you shooed, “I’ll be fine, I’m a big girl.”

“You sure?” she frowned, “It’s no big deal, Girls Night is every Friday night, I can always go next week.”

“I’m fine. Go and have fun for the both of us,” you said as you waved her away.

She left a few minutes later, dressed in heels and a short skirt. You ate the rest of the dumplings and finished the bottle of wine before calling it a night. You undressed down to your underwear and threw on an oversized t-shirt and plopped down onto the bed with an unceremonious bounce. The wine coursing through your system made it easier than usual to fall asleep, and the next thing you knew, you were in a deep sleep, dreaming of a life with Chris--of a life without the letters. It was one of those good dreams you wished you’d never wake from.

Which was why you were so annoyed when a loud noise startled you awake. You looked at your phone and the time read “1:00 AM”, you frowned, it was too early for your sister to be back already. You padded along the hallway, rubbing the sleep from your eyes as you called out for her, worried she might’ve passed out drunk on the floor or something. You stopped as you reached the front room--the very empty front room. Your heart started to pound as you stood frozen, staring at the empty room before you. A shuffling from behind caught your attention, then. And against your better instincts, you turned around slowly to see a shadowed silhouette of a man standing at the end of the hallway.

You stood there for what felt like an eternity, just staring dumbstruck at the man. With every step he took toward you, you took one back. Inching closer and closer to the front door with every backward step.

“Doll, don’t,” he warned, his voice striking you with fear like a bolt of lightning.

Without a second thought, you ran toward the door, fumbling stupidly with the locks in your panicked state of mind. The man was on you in a flash, easily dragging you away from your pathetic attempt at escape. His arms slithered around you like snakes, their hold constricting as he locked an arm firmly around your neck, silencing your screams as you struggled to breathe. You slapped and clawed at his forearm as he pulled you back to your bedroom.

“Please be a good girl for me, (Y/N). I don’t want to hurt you, baby,” he said against your hair.

With his arm still wrapped around your neck, he threw you down onto the bed, quickly straddling you before you could scramble to your feet. He pinned your arms above your head with one hand and forced you to look at him with the other. His face was illuminated by the moonlight. The silver shine highlighting his familiar eyes through the holes of his helmet. You froze as he pulled off his blue cowl.

You were beyond confused, to say the least. You stared up at Captain America, your brain working overtime to try and put the puzzle pieces together. What was Captain America doing in your apartment? And why had he called you “baby”? What the fuck was going on? Were you lucid dreaming? You must’ve looked as confused as you felt because he smiled down at you, gently promising you answers to the questions that you hadn’t yet asked.

“You’re even more beautiful up-close, doll,” he said as he brushed away hairs that fell in your face from your struggle.

Your eyes widened. Doll. The nickname sent chills down your spine as the word flashed against the pink color of the envelopes, against the red of spilled blood.

“You…”

He ran a finger down your cheek and nodded, “Me.”

You paled under him, your bottom lip trembling as you shook your head in disbelief. He frowned and hushed you, caressing your cheek and wiping away the tears that fell.

“Shh… Don’t cry, baby,” he cooed, “I’ll take good care of you, you don’t need to cry.”

“W–Why?” you hiccupped through your sobs, “Why are you doing this?”

“Because I love you, (Y/N),” your stomach dropped as he answered you as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

You shook your head, “No. No! You’re Captain America. You’re supposed to be a hero!”

You fought against his grip, flailing and kicking wildly as you tried in vain to get away from him. You trashed against him, kicking against his thighs with all of your strength, but it was nothing to him--nothing but an annoying inconvenience.

“Stop,” he said, his jaw ticking with simmering anger.

But you refused to stop. You whined and fought against him.

“Stop,” he repeated, his anger coming to a rolling boil.

You shot up and headbutted him. He reeled back and glowered down at you, his jaw clenched and nostrils flared.

“I said stop,” he shouted as he finally stilled you with a sharp slap.

The sound was as sharp as the feel of it. You sobbed as the pain stung your skin, the right side of your face becoming numb from the harsh impact of it.

“Why are you doing this, Steve?” you asked again.

“Because I love you,” he answered again, “I know you love me, too, (Y/N).”

“No,” you exclaimed, “I don’t love you! I don’t love you! I don’t love you!” you sobbed.

“You will,” Something seemed to change within his eyes. No longer were there hints of green in his blue eyes, but something much darker… Something more sinister. You swallowed as you shrunk under his intense glare.

You exclaimed as he forced his lips against yours. Squeezing your jaw until he could slip his tongue into your mouth. You pushed against him, beating on his shoulders as he shoved his tongue further down your throat. He pulled away, breathless and flushed, a ghost of a content smile on his face. You gasped and tried to wiggle away once more, rolling onto your stomach as you did so. A yelp escapes you as you feel him grab your hips, pulling you back under him.

Steve puts his weight on you, trapping you underneath him as he begins to undress you. You try to roll onto your back, but his knee keeps you in place. You fight to keep your shirt on, knowing you wore nothing but your panties underneath it. But you were fighting blind. You kicked up, the heels of your feet hitting the backs of Steve’s strong thighs. He manhandles you easily as he rolls you onto your back, finally ridding you of your cotton shield.

Your hands went to your chest before he could. He pried your arms away, baring your breasts to him with a jerked jiggle. He licked his lips as he cupped and squeezed your breast. You flinched as if his touch had burned you, and in some sense, it had. Your eyes widened in shame as Steve blew on your nipples, the skin hardening into pointed peaks. He brings his lips to them, circling them with his tongue. Sucking, licking, pinching. You press your lips together to keep you from whimpering, and you close your eyes in hopes you can will him away. But your feeble defense attempts don’t last long.

Your eyes snap open as you feel his lips leave your breasts to trail kisses down to your navel, stopping at the band of your underwear.

“Please…” you beg. You bite your lip to keep it from trembling as fresh tears begin to form at the corners of your eyes.

Steve smiles against your skin, “I’m going to make you mine, (Y/N). ‘M gonna make you feel so good, doll.”

You stifle a sob as you feel him slide your panties off past your ankles, his fingers scorching your skin as they explore back up between your thighs. Instinctively, you try to close your legs around his hands. But he doesn’t stop. Steve digs his fingers into the soft skin of your inner thighs as he forcefully spreads you wide. Your pussy on full display to him. You stiffen under his gaze, your face burning with shame as he stares in awe at your spread folds. He runs a finger from your clit to your entrance, dipping knuckle-deep into your channel. Your thighs flex as your body tenses at the intrusion. He adds another and languidly pumps them in and out, curling and scissoring them. You fight against the blossoming heat within your belly. Your shame grows as you hear the squelch of your wetness around his pumping fingers.

Steve presses a firm thumb to your clit and you cry out before you can stop yourself. He pumps his fingers into you harder, faster, as he pulls more moans and cries from your lips. You sob as you feel that coil deep within your belly begin to unravel with every stroke and pump. You fight against your own body as you keep yourself from teetering over the edge of pleasure, refusing to let yourself submit to him. But Steve had other plans for you. Suddenly, before you could register his movements, you felt his tongue against your most intimate area. You mewled and curled your toes as he fucked you with his tongue, his thumb never stopping their firm and fast circles against your clit. You sobbed as your body convulsed with white-hot pleasure, and before you could stop yourself, you came on his tongue with a loud, dragged out moan.

You sniffled as you cried, but whether it was from the intensity of your orgasm or your shame and fear, you didn’t know. The lines were starting to blur for you.

Steve gently kissed around your folds before crawling up over you. He held your face and forced your lips to his once more before he began to undress, leaving the taste of yourself on your tongue as he pulled away with a wet smack. He unclothed himself, then. Stripping himself of his spangled-stars and red and white stripes. He looked down at you with dark, lust-filled eyes, and a breathless quirk of his lips.

You were limp as he folded you to his needs. Bringing your bent and spread knees to your chest as he took himself in his hands. His length stood tall and proud, the tip swollen and leaking down this thick shaft with anticipation. Your legs flinched as they tried to close on their own. You choked on a sob as he wrenched them apart. Your heart hammered in your chest as you watched him tap your pussy with his cock, running the tip up and down your folds as he wet himself with your soaking arousal until finally, he pressed himself into your entrance. You let out a strained whine as he slammed into you.

Steve’s eyes were shut and mouth slightly agape as he hisses at your tightness. His hips thrust in excitement as you clench around him. You whimper again as he slides out, just to slam himself back in. Your body jolts with every lust-driven thrust. He slides his hands under you and brings them to hold onto your shoulders, bringing you down to meet his every forceful thrust. The sound of skin slapping and lewd moans fill your bedroom, your sweat sheen bodies glowing under the moonlight. Steve speeds up, mercilessly hammering that hidden sweet spot that makes you scream and clench around his cock. You spasm and shake as Steve forces another orgasm from you.

“Tell me you love me,” he pants.

You shake your head, pushing on his shoulders as the realization of your situation comes crashing back into you.

His hand wraps around your throat as he pounds into you harder than before, “Say it, (Y/N).”

You scratch at his hand as your vision begins to dot and blacken, “I–I love you…”

“Louder,” he demands, “‘I love you, Steve’, say it, doll, I wanna hear you say it.” he moans.

“I love you, Steve,” you choke out.

He releases his grip on you then, and you cough and gasp for air. His rhythm becomes erratic as his hips drive into you with renewed vigor, “Again.”

“I love you, Steve,” you moan.

His body jerks as his hips stutter to a stop. Steve comes with your name on his lips, and you whined as you felt his warmth flood inside of you. He panted above you, his hips languidly thrusting as his abdomen clenched with his drawn out release. He pulled out of you and collected the spunk that leaked from your weeping cunt on his fingers. He brought them to your lips and forced you to suck them clean.

“I love you, too, doll. Forever and ever,”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*тαgℓιѕт*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧: @hoosier-daddi

#dark!marvel #dark!mcu #dark!fic #dark!steve x you #dark!steve rogers #dark!steve x reader #dark!steve smut #dark steve rogers x you #dark steve rogers x reader #dark steve x you #dark steve x reader #dark steve rogers #steve rogers x f!reader #steve rogers x female reader #steve rogers fic #steve rogers #captain america #steve rogers smut #captain america x reader #captain america x you #captain america fic #captain america x female reader #captain america fanfiction #marvel smut #mcu smut #marvel mcu #marvel fanfiction #marvel #mcu fic #mcu fanfiction

[infernalrevenge]

Hello Hello 👋🏻

I would like to request (NSFW) the Dimitrescu Daughters getting dominated by Reader with a strap.

Just for Fun

Bela = Bed

Cassandra = Wall

Daniela = Sink

(But of course only if you‘re comfortable with it 🙈)

HELL YEAH ANON, I am more than happy to do this!

I'm guessing you want drabbles? I did all the sisters (hehehe) in this post, under the cut. (Also I'm sorry this took a while, I actually misunderstood the prompt and had to redo it though I had already finished the first two HAHAHA)

Reader shall be gender neutral, though they make use of a strap.

(NSFT text under the cut, 18+)

----------

Bela Dimitrescu

You pulled and pressed down on the last of the velcro for adjustment, looking down at the new toy attached between your legs. A pleased smile curled over your lips as you looked on at your girlfriend, who seemed... a little less enthusiastic.

"Is something wrong, love?" you asked in concern.

She looked down at the crumpled sheets, a sign of your earlier activities to prepare. "Just a little... nervous, I suppose."

You frowned slightly, not wanting her to worry. This was supposed to be fun for the two of you, after all. First times did tend to bring nerves though, no matter who you would do it with.

"I'll go slow, I promise. And if you want to stop, you can tell me," you assured her, cupping her cheek. Bela let out a shaky breath, but she nodded, seeming more sure this time.

She laid back down on the bed, her golden hair splayed around her like a halo as you spread her legs apart. Watching the way you licked your lips, that hunger in your eyes when your gaze locked onto hers -- it helped ease her worries somewhat. You only looked away for a moment to see where you were aiming, and once you started to move, you flicked back to her.

It felt much thicker than when she only had your fingers inside her, but it filled her so wonderfully at the same time. Her head pressed against the pillow, eyes closed as she savored the feeling of having you deep inside. She turned slightly to press a kiss to your palm, still on her cheek, and you took it as a good sign.

"You're doing wonderful, Bela. Such a good girl," you whispered. Every move drew a gasp from her lips, breath hitching slightly when she felt you speed up. All the while, you sung praises of how good she felt, how beautiful she looked laid out like this.

Your hands roamed over her bare chest, to her waist, then her hips, pulling her in to meet every thrust. She gripped the sheets underneath, nearly overwhelmed by the sensations before deciding it wasn't enough. She reached up for you without thinking, pulling you down just to feel your flushed body against hers. You responded in kind with kisses and suckles onto her neck, keeping a steady pace.

When she wrapped her legs around your waist, you couldn't help but smile. "Faster?" you asked. She could only nod to reply, words lost in a haze.

Her groans echoed in the chamber, mixing with the slapping of skin as she started to gush around you. All she could moan out was your name, and it was a hell of a drug to keep you going.

Everything making her tingle was building up in her core, toes curling and muscles tensing with her mind filled with want for you and only you. Until finally, finally -- her thighs pressed against your sides to keep you still as she was rocked with pleasure, shaking from the waves of an orgasm. She seemed almost dazed when you pulled back and saw her face, prompting a kiss to her forehead.

"I'll take it this means we can do this again some time?" you teased, just about to slip out before she crossed her legs over your waist once more.

"Again," was all she said, looking up at you pleadingly.

You weren't about to say no.

----------

Cassandra Dimitrescu

"You always carry that with you then?" the brunette said with a laugh, running her hand over the length of the strap on.

"Just in case. Knowing you, you could hardly wait 'til we get to a bed," you replied, leading her against a wall. She had essentially seduced you away from your work to a secluded room in the castle, where hopefully no one would disturb you.

Cassandra planted her hands in front of her, looking over her shoulder to see you rubbing the length of the toy between her ass. She bit down on her bottom lip, pushing her hips back impatiently.

"Ah-ah-ah, what's the magic word?" you chided, a mischievous smirk curling on your lips.

She only growled in response, but you stood firm as the hand on her hip kept her still. You traced its tip along her wet folds, making her stiffen and shiver in anticipation. You weren't going to just let her have this, not after the trouble you might wind up in for letting her whisk you away in the first place. She was going to earn it.

"Well?"

A soft hum passed as if she thought it over, glaring up at you.

"Put it inside me now... please." She had whispered the last word, but you supposed that should do for now. You couldn't wait too long either.

You eagerly pushed into her, watching her mouth drop open at the sudden intrusion -- one that was entirely welcome. She clawed onto the wallpaper, digging her nails with every thrust that resulted in that beautiful friction. Your hips rolled into hers, searching for that spot that would have her seeing stars, and you knew you found it from the way she arched her back and moaned out your name. By Mother Miranda, you wanted to hear it again.

Cassandra could feel her legs cramping from under her, but the pain only melded with the pleasure of being pounded into. You pulled her face toward you and sealed her lips with yours, swallowing the sounds spilling out of her as you kept up a punishing pace. The heat inside her was ready to burst, chasing the feeling with every rock of her hips to meet yours. When you broke off to catch a breath and locked eyes with her, your gaze dark with lust -- it was enough to push her over the edge.

She gushed around you, resting her cheek on the cold wall and shaking as you rode her through her orgasm. But you wouldn't slow down, catching her by surprise when you reached down between her legs.

"Might as well... make the most of this... right?" you panted, seeing her golden eyes roll back and jaw go slack, getting lost in the overload of sensation. Your other arm wrapped around her torso, chest pressed against her back as you leaned into every thrust.

She was still so sensitive from her first orgasm that a second one wasn't too far behind. Her clit throbbed under your fingers as you rubbed circles and she was unable to help herself from grinding into it, ragged shocks of pleasure running through her. Goosebumps littered her skin before she burst once again and cried out your name, head lolling back onto your shoulder as you pressed deep inside her.

You gently caressed her legs as she started to come down from the high, hearing her whimper as you slipped out. Your fingers traced along her quivering inner thigh, collecting some of her slick before bringing them up to your lips for a taste. She barely managed to catch the erotic sight as she turned her body towards yours.

"Want me to help you clean up?" you whispered, resting your forehead on hers.

She responded with a soft kiss, and an even softer "Please" before you got down on your knees.

----------

Daniela Dimitrescu

The redhead's giggles bounced off the bathroom walls, her legs wrapped around your waist as you set her down on the edge of the sink.

"You really couldn't wait until I finished showering?" you teased, watching her dangle the toy by its strap.

"You were gonna get dirty again anyway, you can finish later," she replied with a playful pout. As much of a brat your lover could be, it's not like you could deny her, especially when it came to such desires. It didn't take long for you to get ready, adjusting as quickly as you could while keeping your focus on the hungry look on Daniela's face.

You pushed her dress up to her waist, smirking as you felt up her bare legs and ass, noting her lack of underwear. "Naughty girl."

She wrapped her arms around your neck, pulling you closer. "I just like to come prepared."

Lining yourself up to her entrance, you heard a small gasp as you slid inside. Her fingers curled around you, looking up with half-lidded eyes as you rested your forehead on hers, moving ever so slowly. She should've known you'd be a tease, as she deserved for interrupting you. "Please," she whimpered when you paused, seated within her.

"Please what, baby?"

She groaned in frustration, "Please-- please fuck me already."

With pleasure. "Good girl."

You pulled back and thrust harder, her moans ringing in your ears. She pushed her hips forward to meet yours to push in deeper, the creak of the sink under her going ignored as the two of you got lost in the act. Her nails clawed at your back, muscles tensing as she left red marks which only encouraged you to go faster.

You reached down to press your thumb onto her clit and rubbed quick circles, groans of pleasure spilling from her lips as she desperately held onto you. "Fuck, Y/N!" Her legs tightened around your waist as she could feel her climax building.

Suddenly, you heard a loud crack, and Daniela dropped from her position. Luckily, your hands under her thighs managed to keep her from landing on the floor. What wasn't quite so lucky was the crooked sink that broke off its pipe, the two of you quickly getting soaked with water. Even when you moved away, stray lines still splattered onto you both, and it left you laughing at the irony. Maybe you were meant to finish your shower after all.

"When I wanted to get wet today, this was not what I had in mind," she remarked, shielding herself from the spray but to no avail.

"You were kind of due for a shower too anyway," you joked, earning you a slap on the shoulder.

She pursed her lips, holding onto you tight with the hard length still inside her. From the way she was shivering, you knew she was still recovering from earlier. One thrust forward got her to yelp, nails digging into your shoulder.

"Fuck!" She covered her mouth, looking down at you pleadingly, "Please let me finish, Y/N."

You raised an eyebrow at her, "Someone definitely heard that crash and is gonna come in any--"

"I don't care! Please, just let me come. I was so close already!" she whined, bouncing in your hold and biting her lip as she clenched around the toy. Not even a broken sink could kill the mood, you supposed. Besides, who else could make her feel this good?

#bela dimitrescu x reader #bela dimitrescu #cassandra dimitrescu x reader #cassandra dimitrescu #daniela dimitrescu x reader #daniela dimitrescu #dimitrescu sisters #dimitrescu daughters #resident evil village #resident evil 8 #re8 #anon #inbox #nsft #drabble requests #gender neutral reader #gn!reader #'please' is the word of the day #anyway the way i misunderstood this ask was by writing the sisters dominating reader with a strap #if anyone wants me to post that i'll do it without question HAHA #also just realized that bela got a soft dom here. as she deserves

[honestlyfragile]

JUMPSTREET - Mark Lee x Johnny Suh

Pairing: Mark Lee x Fem!Reader, Johnny is Mark’s bestfriend, Mentions of Jaehyun and Yuta

Genre: university!au, police!au, a dash of fluff, smut,crack, fraternity!au

warnings: mild violence, mentions of guns, drugs, sexual themes, language

Summary: Mark and Johnny were partners in crime, but when feelings get in the way, will Mark stick to the law or go against it?

Wc: 15.4k

also posted in Ao3

a/n: I hope you enjoy this story heavily inspired by the 21 & 22 Jumpstreet movie franchise, and hopefully I was able to deliver it with my own ideas. Enjoy!

Mark and Johnny start their first official day as policemen after being together in most of their high school years and studying criminology in college. They could not be more excited to see people make trouble until today.

"Let's see who's going to be able to make his first arrest." Johnny bets, scanning around the area with a cup of coffee in his hand, the other on his waist.

"Dude it's a park, what the fuck could possibly happen here?" Mark retorts, unamused.

"Oh you know, it's a crazy world we live in these days." Johnny defends, his gaze fixed on his surroundings.

"Sure it is." Mark continues to read his newspaper as he stands side by side with Johnny.

The two try to at least roam around and patrol over the area, looking for at least an ounce of any violation, it didn't matter if it was serious or not.

Mark spots a kid of about 9 years old near the pond, about to drop a piece of bread into the water.

"Excuse me kid," Mark bluffs, as if it were his first catch of the day. Technically this is his first catch of his career, hopefully.

"What?" the child frowns and looks at him obnoxiously.

"Read the sign," Mark points to it and the kid's eyes follow, but disobeys him anyway. 

"It says don't feed the ducks!" Mark argues, but the kid is unbothered.

"Let it go Mark, it's not like bread will kill them. Plus, you can't arrest a child." Johnny scoffs and tries to drag Mark to another area.

Mark lets out a sigh as the kid sticks his tongue out and he does the same before turning his back.

The two had nothing better to do, they were rookies who just got newly assigned to an area that didn't even have any trouble. Almost like they were just there for the sake of. Of course the department treated them as rookies.

Johnny takes out his pistol out of boredom and tosses it for fun. "Woah you know those are loaded right?" Mark warns him while involuntarily taking a step back.

"Yeah and?" Johnny continues to toss and play with it.

"Unload it first!" Mark panics like the goody two shoes that he was.

"Then that would be no fun." Johnny shrugs.

Mark spots a group of middle aged men from afar, but not quite. He squints and tries to take a closer look with his binoculars.

"Yo check it out, aren't those the Outlaws?" He nudges Johnny's shoulder as he takes a look himself.

The Outlaws are a known motorcycle gang in the county, they aren't always bothersome but the both of them are determined to find a loophole.

The two approach the group of men and tell them off because they have parked their motorcycles illegally. But that's not the only thing they notice, these men were stoned. One lights up a joint of Marijuana shamelessly, and Johnny loses his temper. "Excuse me Sir, you do know that the use of Marijuana is illegal right?"

"Oh look," the hideous man spits on the ground. "They must be new. He has the guts to talk to us like that. Nice to see some fresh kids here. You sure you aren't dressing up for... halloween?" The man specifically has his eyes on Mark when he said the last sentence.

Feeling offended, Mark straightens up his stance and acts more like a grown man. "That's a nice joke sir, now hand it over." He says in a stern voice.

"What a scary fella, keep up the good work! Sorry I don't have candy with me." They tease and the two have had enough.

"I'm going to have to search your motorcycle now sir." Johnny insists and doesn't wait for a response, and opens the seat and finds packets of a fine white substance. "These are.." he halts.

"DRUGS!" Mark shouts and immediately gets pushed by one of the gang members.

Johnny immediately gets a sample and keeps it in his pocket and takes his gun out. Mark gets up and does the same. The men try to run away and escape, Johnny runs after them and Mark takes his bike. The two finally get to corner them and Johnny pits one of them on the ground.

"You have the right to," Johnny tries to utter the Miranda Rights as he puts handcuffs on the man that is trying to eagerly resist him. "To shut the fuck up!" Johnny was being too focused on trying to handcuff the suspect and forgets to recite the rest,

Reciting those did not even cross Mark's mind as he just also focused on trying to handcuff the man.

"You are coming with us!" He yells and drags them to the police station, which was only a few meters away from them now.

--------

As the case was investigated, their chief commends them but then discovers that they forgot to recite the Miranda Rights, which can possibly make the charges be dropped, but thankfully the violation to the law was enough for the men to remain in jail.

"Technically you still did this wrong," the chief puts a hand on his chin and taps the polished wooden table. "But since you're just starting out, i'll give you another offer."

The two young men eye each other, anticipating the chief's suggestion. "An offer?" Johnny asks, straightening up in his seat.

"Jump street." The chief says.

"Wha- what's that?" Mark furrows his eyebrows in curiosity.

"Since the both of you look younger than the rest of the people here, our undercover police unit is in need of officers." The chief informs.

"Please, continue." Johnny lets him explain further.

"You pretend to be college students. It's practically the same, but it would be more suitable for the both of you because it's your crowd. You see crime and injustice, you report. But, you will be disguised as college students to ease the procedures of trying to find what those students have been up to. We have your back." The chief explains.

"Cool." Mark simply says because he is astonished by the idea.

"So where do we report? Do we have a new head quarters?" Johnny asks. 

"You will be transferred. Down in 21 Jump St." The deputy Chief declares.

____

They head to the headquarters that was disguised as an old chapel. "You sure this is the one?" Mark questions as he gets out of the car.

"It does say 21 Jump St. so, let's have a look." Johnny turns off the engine and both of them enter.

The setting was a typical chapel, but it was dark and full of stock equipment. Mark takes a look at the altar that was dimly lit, and bows before the image of Christ to show respect . Johnny on the other hand was not a person of religion but follows Mark's simple gesture anyways.

"The both of you!" A man shouts from afar, and it echoes, "come over here." 

The two are startled but proceed to the hidden room. When they enter they see two women who are already disguised as cheerleaders. Meanwhile the two are still in their police uniforms. The ladies take a look and have a good laugh at them. "You do know that you're supposed to go undercover right?" She says, eyeing them from head to toe. 

"W-we didn't get the memo that it was gonna be today.." Mark trails off and fidgets with his hands.

"Go and dress like teenagers! Now!" The chief commands and the two quickly change right away. 

When they get back they are briefed by the set of rules they have to follow and about the goals of this undercover project.

"Rule number 1. DO NOT get expelled. No one in the system knows that you are undercover. So be disciplined and don't cause major trouble. Getting expelled would mean that you'll get your asses kicked out of jump street." The chief sternly explains, making the assigned officers hold their breath from fear.

"Rule number 2," the officer walks past the rest and stands in front of Johnny. "DO NOT have any sexual or intimate relationships with the students and professors. You hear that pretty boy?" And specifically locks his eyes on Johnny, making the boy gulp and purse his lips. After the general meeting, the two were called for a detailed one, personally with the chief.

It was said to them that they had to find a synthetic drug that has been spreading around the campus called NCT. A sample of its packaging was shown, it was definitely something you wouldn't think of as a drug. It was about a size of a large coin, and looks like a small biscuit. It was sealed using assorted hand drawn stickers of different objects. They were also advised to never give out their real names, because new identities have been assigned to them. Johnny's being Rolan Kim and Mark's being Kalen Park.

"When the youngsters take this drug, it apparently makes them laser-focused on studying for about an hour. And for the succeeding hours, they party like it's fucking 1999 until they pass out. Infiltrate the dealer, find the supplier." The chief gives his final orders and sends off the both of them for their mission.

-----

"Dang, we're really going back to college?" Mark says as he finished up packing his things for the dorm that the agency assigned to them. They had to be as realistic as possible.

The two head to the university, reminiscing their own college days. The two might perhaps over-do this whole "blending in" thing, which might give out the disguise.

"Woah their campus is HUGE." Mark says, mesmerized and wears both straps of his backpack.

"Bro, that's not very college of you." Johnny fumbles with the strap of Mark's backpack.

"What?"

"You're two strapping dude. You have to just sling one of them on your shoulder, so it's cool and grown up. You're in college, not middle school." Johnny fixes Mark's bag for him.

"Right. College." He utters to himself. He seems to be enjoying it too much, and starts saying hi to everyone he sees.

"Knock it off, Mark. You're giving us away." Johnny nudges his arm and tries to cooly stride along the campus, keeping his composure.

Mark acknowledges him and goes with the flow. The two arrive in their dorm that they gladly share only among themselves. Mark is new to this, because when he went to college he stayed with his parents. Thankfully he could trust Johnny to always have his back.

The two set their things down and pick their beds, it didn't really matter much since the room had two singles and separate desks for the both of them. It also had a small book shelf that could come in handy, if they ever plan to take lectures seriously.

"Let's just fix these later. We have to go to the Dean's office to confirm our enrollment. Act natural okay?" Johnny lazily brushes his hair back and straightens up his shirt in front of the small mirror that the vanity had.

"Oh- uh okay." Mark leaves the pile of his clothes undone on top of his bed and grabs his phone and keys.

It was the afternoon of fall, the campus has been covered with different hues of orange leaves and subtle sunlight. The breeze was cool but not strong as it blew against their hair. The university seemed peaceful, but they had no idea what went on once the sun sets and the lights are off.

After a couple minutes of walking, the two arrive at the Dean's office for their interview. 

"Good afternoon gentlemen, please take a seat." The middle aged man smiles at the both of them. 

The two are slightly nervous, but eventually get over it. "Nice to meet you, Mr..." Johnny reads the name plate on the desk "Mr. Bennet." and gives the man his signature smile. Mark does the same and they start their interview. 

"Okay, so which one is Rolan and which one is Kalen?" Mr. Bennet asks and there was a short period of silence. Two had seemed to forget which identities were theirs. 

Johnny raises his hand, "I'm Rolan sir. Rolan Kim." and he nudges Mark's shoulder. 

"Ah yes and I'm Kalen... Park" he barely manages to blurt it out. 

The dean furrows his eyebrows but lets it go and proceeds. "So the two of you are?" He asks. They were not prepared for that question. 

"Brothers."

"Family friends." the two say at the same time. They give each other a funny look, and Mark gladly saves them from the mishap. "Well we do really treat each other as brothers sir, we grew up together pretty much." and clears his throat. A close call. 

"That's good to hear. So Rolan is going to be trying out for the football team and Kalen will try out for the Music club. Those two are very different from each other, but don't worry the opportunities in this school are endless. You can always transfer if you feel that you aren't happy with what you chose." The dean explains and the two acknowledge. 

Mr. Bennet goes a little further with the interview and gives them their schedules for the semester then eventually dismisses the two, wishing them well.

"Dude how can you forget the identity that was assigned to you!" Johnny quietly scolds Mark for his slip away. 

"I'm sorry okay it's a little confusing!" Mark scratches the back of his head and looks at the floor. 

"Ayt, I'll see you later. I have Chemistry in 15 minutes. I can still catch up. What about you?" Johnny asks, putting his hand on his pockets and the other on Mark's shoulder.

"Well, I don't really have any classes for the day anymore. I guess i'll head back to the dorm so I can start unpacking already. I'll see you then. Let me know if you find any leads." Mark gives him a small salute and heads back to the dorms.

-----

Johnny arrives in the lecture hall and receives strange looks. He tenses up a little but nonetheless shrugs it off and takes a seat next to a boy who looks like a whole generation younger than him. 

"Yo, you look really old. Were you held back?" The boy asks in a nosy manner, unintentionally pushing Johnny's buttons.

Johnny clenches his jaw and keeps his composure. "No I don't... You look young. Super young. Were you held forward?" he tries to redeem himself. 

"No? Whatever. I'm Haechan by the way." The boy introduces himself. 

"Im Joh- Rolan." Johnny almost slips but the latter doesn't notice. 

The professor immediately hands a quiz, which Johnny has no idea of because he arrived at an odd time of the semester. He guessed all the questions with all his might. But to be quite honest he also wasn't the best in chemistry when he still went to school. 

He turns his paper in and walks towards the exit but gets stopped by Haechan. "Uh do you need help with the topic? You seem to be clueless about it." Which came off as a little rude, but that wasn't his intention at all. 

"No." Johnny insists because it hurts his pride. "I know everything." He stiffens up.

"Yeah? Do you know what a covalent bond is then?" The boy cheekily asks. 

Johnny bluffs, because he doesn't. Or to put it in a better light, he forgot. "Fuck man, I don't have to tell you what it is."

"Woah, I wasn't trying to be rude. But anyway if you need help you can just ask me. See ya." Then Haechan was off and got lost in the sea of people. 

Apparently, it was Johnny's last class for the day because it was already almost evening. He texts Mark to inform him that he's heading back to the dorm as well. He doesn't let his guard down and continues to observe the students if they're up to anything suspicious.

As he walked to the dorm, he saw a bunch of boys that were about as tall as he was but more athletic gather around the corner of the football field. He acts nonchalant but keeps an eye on what they are up to. He tries to move closer to the scene without getting caught and acts like he's only passing by. 

"Yo hook me up with some more of those, I can't fail my classes or else i'll get kicked out of the team." One says to the other. 

Johnny immediately pulls his phone out to text Mark about what he just heard and hurries back. 

-------

"Dude, as expected the football team has it. I'm trying out tomorrow and I'll surely get with them." Johnny discusses with Mark.

"Yeah? Can I come watch your tryouts? So I can see what they look like." Mark requests. 

"Sure. 2pm at the field." Johnny informs him.

The two were mostly busy arranging their stuff in the room until they heard a knock on the door. Mark offers to get it. 

"Hey new neighbors!" two men appear with big smiles. 

"Oh hey, uh... thanks?" Mark blankly answers as he was usually awkward meeting with new people.

Johnny comes and checks to see who it was, and to his surprise, it was Haechan and his roommate. 

"Oh hey Haechan, and hey..." Johnny looks at the unfamiliar guy. 

"Renjun." He smiles.

"Right Renjun." Johnny nods. "Oh by the way Kalen, I go to the same biology class as Haechan." Johnny calls Mark by his fake name.

"Oh cool, what about you Renjun, what's your major?" Mark asks. 

"Classical music!" Renjun enthusiastically says. 

"Oh I'm in Music Prod! I'll probably see you around during org meetings." Mark smiles.

Their neighbors introduce tips for them that could be useful during their stay and seem to be genuinely nice people. But Mark and Johnny cannot trust anyone, so they keep their guards up and try their best to not give anything away. 

Although it may have seemed like an easy task for them, it wasn't. The drug was all over the school, it was going to be difficult to find the root of it if they ignored even the smallest details that could lead them to find out the supplier. 

---

The following day, the two wake up early ready to officially start the day. Mark and Johnny head to their own classes, hoping that they find out something about the case today. 

Mark enters the lecture hall for his Philosophy class. It was almost 80 percent full as it was a basic class for almost everyone. He awkwardly looks around, hoping to find a seat that wasn't as far because of his bad eyesight. 

"Psst." You try to catch his attention. When he looks over, you tap the vacant seat next to you, "you can sit here." You offer. 

"T-thanks." He says and gives you a smile. 

"You seem like a new face. I'm Y/N" You say to him because you have observed the people in this class every day. 

"I'm Kalen. Kalen Park." he scratches the back of his head. "I uh, just got enrolled yesterday. You know, when your family moves into another town... yeah" he trails off with his made-up excuse. 

"Yeah, it's fine. Don't worry about it." You genuinely assure him, "It's college. You can take your time." You chuckle because he was so awkward, but seemed very kind. 

"Definitely." He bites his lip, unsure if he should keep talking or not. But the professor arrives just on time. 

He observes his surroundings and keeps an eye on suspicious students that might have a link to what they were looking for. He whispers to the guy in front of him who was just playing games on his laptop and wasn't listening in class. "Hey, do you know where I can get myself some NCT?" 

The guy raises his brows in doubt, "are you a narc?" and might have said it way too loudly. 

Mark tries to brush it off with a stiff laugh "What are you talking about man? I'm not I swear." and refuses to make eye contact. 

The airhead lets it go and slips mark a cellphone number that could possibly be a step closer to what they were looking for. "Just text them "looking for a hookup" and they'll know what you're talking about." 

"Thanks, man." He gives him a small pat on the back just to show that he wasn't up to anything, which actually just makes him more suspicious. Thankfully, the guy didn't really care. 

Mark was delighted to have found a lead easily, and immediately texts Johnny about it. After that, he actually paid attention to the class, just because it genuinely fascinated him. 

When it ended he immediately gathered his stuff and put on his backpack, ready to meet Johnny. 

"Psst, two strapper!" You call out and try to barely tap his shoulder. 

He looks back and immediately drops one strap of his backpack off his shoulders, he definitely forgot about what Johnny has advised him. He scratches the back of his head with his hands on his pocket, "yeah?" 

"You free this evening?" You casually ask. 

He nervously gulps because he really has to be somewhere right now, but he didn't want to be rude. "Uhm, I guess? I don't know yet. Why?" 

"We're having a poetry slam at the art hall, you might be interested. I saw some good stuff you wrote in your notebook" you smile, hoping that it doesn't freak him out that you saw one of his works. 

His eyes widened, "oh, okay cool I guess I can try. But I have somewhere to be right now, I'll see you..around." And he awkwardly walks off. 

You furrow your brows because of his strange mannerisms, but he seemed like no trouble at all. In fact, it was kind of cute, how awkward he was. 

------ 

It was time for Johnny's football tryouts. Given that he was already good at it during the time that he was actually in college.

Johnny was naturally a sociable person, he blended well with crowds and easily made friends. That's why this was the perfect place for him to be in. He sits himself at the bench while he wears the spare uniforms from the team and is greeted by a dude that was a little shorter than he was, "Goodluck" the boy with ash purple hair says. 

"Thanks!" he enthusiastically replies. 

"Captain! We need you for a sec." the coach calls, then the boy who has wished him luck gets up and reports to the coach. Well, he did give off an impression of one. He was highly presentable, his smile was hospitable, his form was great and his attitude was pleasant. Everything else—was just the ideal makings of a captain. 

The tryouts start and Johnny looks around for Mark, who had just arrived and casually sat himself on the bleachers, waving at Johnny from afar. As the tryouts went on and finished, the coach praised everyone who attended for a job well done and announced the new members who had qualified. All of which included Johnny of course. 

"Hey man, great job out there." The captain is back on Johnny's side to praise him. 

"Yeah, thanks. I'm Rolan by the way." He introduces himself.

"Of course I know, I was the one who picked you from the list." He laughs, "Jaehyun. Jeong Jaehyun." 

-----

"Hey!" Mark hears a familiar voice faintly calling his name. He searches for it but takes him awhile because of how wide the campus is. "Over here two stapper," you chuckle and he finally sees. 

"Oh hey," he muttered quite embarrassed at how awkward he was. 

He takes a seat next to you at the bench near the hall of the poetry slam event, he wanted to go together. "Chilly night huh? I should've brought my sweater.." You trail off, rubbing your arms for warmth. 

You didn't mean for it to come off that way, but Mark willingly takes off his jacket and offers it to you. "Oh it's alright really-" you insist.

"No it's fine, I'm from Canada, this is nothing." He laughs. 

You nod your head with his remark, and proceed to wear his jacket. It was quite big on you, but it was definitely cozy. "Shall we go?" You ask, standing up.

He nods and lets you lead him to the hall. The campus was only lit by lamp posts at this hour, but there were many sculptures in the school of arts that he had wished to see better. Well, there was always next time. 

The both of you enter the hall which was quite filled with students already. It had been set up like a cafe, with a small platform in front that was lit with a spotlight. 

"Give it up for Naya Kim everybody!" the emcee announces, encouraging everyone to give the person a round of applause after presenting a spoken word. "Do we have another volunteer?' 

The crowd falls silent as everyone looks around, mindlessly making eye contact with each other, waiting on who was going next. 

"Anyone?" The emcee taps the mic. 

"I have one!" You yell, and Mark looks at you with wide eyes. 

"Dude no-" he resists, trying to shrink himself into his chair. 

"C'mon it'll be fun!" You nudge his shoulder, "We have Kalen over here!" You grab his wrist and raise his arm for him, even if he was resisting it, he had no choice. 

The emcee squints and eyes the both of you and acknowledges you volunteering your new friend. "Alright we have Kalen next! Stage is yours." The emcee steps off. 

He had all eyes on him now, eyes hungry of anticipation and to witness raw talent amongst themselves. 

"G-good evening everyone." he greets, holding onto the mic tightly and takes a deep breath. His expression changes into a serious one. 

Will it ever come? 

The nights know me well. 

I was a frequent by-passer but now I am no stranger. 

A boy who grew up with sharks does not need to be taught how to swim.

Good night,

These words feel like the vast sky

Darkness, but not hollow.

Black but not bitter. 

After he recites his poem he becomes flustered again from the faint applause he had received from the audience that was present, he puts the mic back to its stand and does a small bow. 

"Not bad, tiger" You pat him on the back. There was more to him than what meets the eye, you just knew. 

"You think so?" He says with hopeful eyes. 

"Yeah!" You assure him. 

The rest of the evening passes by with the both of you having a splendid time watching others unleash their passion and talent for reciting spoken word and poetry. Some were tear jerking and some were downright hilarious. So this is college. Mark thinks to himself.

In the past he had always been a loner who didn't go to many parties because of his strict and conservative parents. 

 He was way beyond his borders now. But he couldn't get carried away. No, this isn't a time for him to redeem himself from his early years, this was time for him to perform his duties. So he snaps out of his little daydream. 

As the both of you were seated at the bench in front of the hall where he found you, he had asked you about your major. 

"Fine arts." you laugh bitterly.

"What's wrong? You don't seem like you're happy with it…" He trails off, swinging his feet that was hanging off the bench. 

You shake your head no, "I am. It's just that my parents don't really know I took this course. I told them I got a scholarship and they were just relieved that they didn't have to pay anymore. Otherwise they'd force me into some business course or something "more practical"" you emphasize with air quotes. 

"I see. Okay so fine arts huh?" He tries to lighten the mood. "What can you say about that one over there?" Mark points to the sculpture to your left, about 20 metres away. 

"They're like two beings, leaning on each other" you pause, dramatically for impact, "They support each other so one doesn't fall." you interpret. 

He seems impressed, then asks "Support huh? How about you? Do you have anyone—who supports you?" 

"Hm, not really, no. I like to be alone and just spend time with myself." Your eyes wander but all you could think about is how he's looking at you with such attentiveness and interest.

He chuckles, "I feel you. You know I'm an expert at being alone. Don't you just love it when you're in a room full of people but no one gives a shit about your presence?" He claps his hands together just once then purses his lips into a bitter lopsided smile. "Yep. Had a lot of those." He masks his personal statement with humor.

"Well," You say, kicking the shortly-trimmed grass on the building's lawn. "If you don't wanna be alone, you walk me to my dorm" you offer.

He looks around and takes no time to think about it, feeling that it was unsafe for you to go alone. "Sure." He smiles.

The walk to your dorm was silent but comfortable. You weren't sure if he was quite a talker or just shy. But one thing you couldn't get out of your head was how unconventionally attractive he was. You've never gotten a vibe like his before and you've been in this university for 2 years already. You wanted to get something out of him even if it takes you to be the bold one here. 

"We're here," You whisper, looking at him seductively. Like you were a puppy begging to not be left alone. "Do you wanna come in? My roommate left for the weekend" you smirk. 

Mark gulps. He had been resisting this kind of tension he had with you ever since he met you. But you made it so hard. "Come on," you say, putting your hand at the back of his neck while tracing mindless patterns on it with your finger. 

"My brother he might be-" 

"Oh you have a brother? Is he hot?" You joke. 

His eyes are wide with stitched eyebrows. But eventually catches on. "Nah." and he pulls you closer to him by the waist. His eyes now staring at you deeply, so hungrily like he was that tiger you called him as earlier. Come and get it.

Without any words said, he had finally crashed his lips onto yours. And you kissed him hard. Like you wanted to have him to all yourself at that very moment. Your tongue grazes his lower lip, begging for entrance which he had granted. Your tongues meshed together at a quick pace, with the heat of your core starting to throb. 

You push yourself closer to him and you start to feel his prominence and unconsciously grind on his jeans, making him grunt. You break the kiss for a quick moment, his eyes are glazed and his mouth agape, out of breath. You turn around and enter the code to your dorm and pull him inside. 

For a brief moment that your bodies were detached, Mark couldn't stop wanting more. Not even thinking the slightest of the consequences of this act that will dawn upon him if it ever gets out. 

You were back to slamming your body with his as you took off his jacket, making it fall to the floor. His hands snake underneath your shirt and started roaming around your body while he peppered kisses on your neck. With a swift flick of his fingers he had unclasped your bra and his hands groped your breasts, you threw your head back as he buried his face in your clothed cleavage. Like he was begging for this bothersome piece of clothing to be gone. 

You grant his invisible wish and quickly lift your shirt off, while your bra falls off your arms naturally, his mouth watering at the sight. You trace his abs underneath his shirt, your core getting wetter with how toned they were based on your touch.

And you didn’t doubt the results one bit. When you lift his shirt, his torso was delicately lean, toned in all the right places that your mouth could water at the sight of it. You bite your lip and roll your eyes at the sensation of him sucking your tits, his grip on you intense but gentle. 

“I don’t have condoms right now, so this is going to be all about you.” He whispers seductively, feeling your wetness through your soaked panties. You softly moan at the sensation and hungrily kiss him again, not having any moment to waste. 

When he slides two fingers to massage your folds, you whimper. "Fuck," you breathe. 

"God, that's hot." He says with a hitched breath. You couldn't possibly get any more turned on right now. 

When he slips his digits in your cunt—you go fucking insane. You haven't felt this good in quite a while, it made you ecstatic to remember how fucking good this feeling was, you hoped that this wouldn't be the last. Mark was different.

He picks up his pace, and you try to keep your composure, but the forced arch of your back says otherwise. You grab a pillow to cover your face, scared that you would be too loud and get caught, or else this would be the last time for the both of you. 

“My fucking God.” You whimper, pulling Mark’s head on your chest, holding onto him for dear life because you just entirely lost control of it all. He finishes you off like his life depended on it, licking your wetness from his fingers, savouring it, then wipes his fingers on his jeans.

“You were so good to me, yeah?” He chuckles when you are left speechless.

“What about you?” You ask, looking at his crotch that was painfully hard. 

“It’s- It’s alright. You don’t have to” He says, and it makes your heart thaw like ice. You didn’t deserve him. 

“But I want to.” You plead, you couldn’t possibly resist him. “Come here,” You say, rubbing your palm against his jeans.

You didn’t waste anymore time and unzipped his pants, lowering it with his boxers just enough t make his cock lightly hit his stomach. His size is definitely more than what you expected.  You take his wet, glistening cock in your hands and pump it gently, smirking in satisfaction when you hear him hiss and moan softly. 

“Can you keep it down for me, tiger? We might not be able to do this again,” You coo, and he obediently nods, grazing your lower lip with his tongue, asking for entrance which you gladly grant but not for long. 

You smile as you lowered your head down to his throbbing member, licking the precum that had escaped the tip. Mark bites his lip, trying to keep as quiet as possible. You slowly put his dick in your mouth, testing a few times how far you could go. He bucks his hips by accident, making you gag very slightly. “I’m so sorry,” He strokes your hair away from your face. You keep going until you reach the brim, a throaty moan escapes his lips when he couldn’t take it anymore. 

You bob your head up and down in a consistent pace while he holds your hair, “You’re such a good girl” He says, throwing his head back. You keep going until you feel tears slowly coming out of your eyes and tried to hollow your cheeks as much as possible, he was so close. 

“You don’t have to swallow,” he says, pulling back from you. Nonsense. You were more than willing to. 

“I want to.” You say, putting his cock back in your mouth. 

With a few last pumps, his member twitches in your mouth and you feel his warm release and take it all in. You wipe the sides of your mouth as you finish, giving him a sweet smile. 

After the both of you pass out on your bed, Mark has lost track of time and receives a text from Johnny. 

"Dude where the fuck are you? Do you know what time it is?" 

Mark jolts up and checks the time, 2:45am. Shit, he was screwed. He quickly gathers his clothes that had been thrown around your room and dresses himself in panic. 

"I'm sorry, uh Joh- Rolan, my brother has been waiting for me at our dorm, I lost track of time and i think he'll beat my dick off," He nervously chuckles, almost forgetting to use his fake identity again. He has got to get used to it.

"Not if i did it first" You both burst out laughing. "Alright, I'll see you in class." You say, snuggling yourself in your blanket and shutting your eyes. 

He leaves your dorm quietly and runs a hand through his hair before giving Johnny a call. 

"Dude listen-"

"Are you fucking around Mark?" Johnny answers, clearly enraged. 

Mark was scared as shit but never misses the chance to fuck around Johnny. "I might've." 

"Get your ass back here, Lee" 

"Ayt." 

He slips his phone back to his pocket and starts walking briskly to their dorm. Damn this campus was mad creepy that it actually brought chills to his body. He wondered why he felt so cold then realized he left his jacket at your place. It was too late for him to get it back so he settled by running to warm his body up. 

Finally, he was back at the dorm. He hesitates to turn the doorknob because he knows he will be dead meat or nagged to death by Johnny. Or not. 

"Where you been huh?" Johnny examines him, standing up from his bed. He sniffs Mark and the latter flinches. "You smell like sex!" He slaps his shoulder. 

"You crazy? Some expert or something" Mark brushes him off. Wincing at the sting Johnny's palm gave to the skin of his shoulder.

"I should know, Mark." His mood was lighter now. "But who did you fu- i mean have sex with? we just got here wildcat"

"A girl I met in class like uh… awhile ago" The younger bites his lip trying to keep a smile from escaping his lips. He shouldn't be feeling this giddy over a rule that he broke for you. 

Johnny could not believe what he was hearing right now, "Dang. Cheeky boy." He laughs, actually feeling happy for Mark. He can have a little fun, Johnny had his back when it came to these things.

The elder changes the topic and lets this slide. Johnny talks about the leads he gathered from hanging out with the football team. Which were still very much confusing since this substance is all over the campus. Meanwhile, Mark didn't have much besides that number he gave Johnny. Considering he was with the "decent" crowd of people today.

---

The two head to their quarters to report to their chief the next day, trying to ask for help on how they could improve this investigation. 

The chief dumps a folder on the table and says, "This is what the deputy gave us recently. Take a look." He opens the folder into a specific case file to discuss with the two. 

"Who's this?" Mark points at the picture of a girl, who seemed like they were around the same age as the people at University. 

"Lee Minjung." the chief rubs his hands together. "Took some NCT and got locked out of her dorm, so she ended up falling off the roof and dying." The two are shocked by this revelation, it was more serious than they thought. 

The chief flips a page, "Here's a picture of her buying the drug." The photograph had two people in it, one that had a visible face which was Minjung, and one guy who's back was facing the camera. He wore a hat so they couldn't really tell who it was. But one thing they could point out is the reflection on the window of the car beside them.

"Dude, look at this," Mark points out his observation to Johnny. "He has a tattoo, we could start with this." 

"Bingo. There's your lead." The chief closes the folder and puts it back in his file. "The next time you get back here your asses better be presenting me some actual progress. Understand?" 

"Yes sir." 

----

Johnny and Mark head to the resident tattoo artist that was near the university, apparently they do most of the tattoos of the students there. 

"Excuse me," They knocked on the table of the artist who was currently at the back of the shop.

The tattoo artist arrives out front and asks how they could help the two. 

"We're looking for this tattoo, is it familiar to you?" Johnny asks while showing the artists the photograph.

The artist tries to think hard, but gives a hasty answer. "I'm not sure, there's too many of them who got that." 

Mark pushes the subject, "Them? Do you think it's some kind of group tattoo?" 

"I guess so. They were boys, all of them. Very masculine, had the body of an athlete if I were to put it at that." The artist states. 

Mark and Johnny look at each other as if there were light bulbs above their heads. "Thank you!" Mark says and they run off the shop. 

The possibility of this being in the football team was huge. They were athletes, and under a lot of pressure. They had reasons to use this drug but it wasn't an excuse for them not to eliminate this. They had to get to the bottom of this before it ends up like Minjung's case again. 

---

Johnny was at football practice while Mark stood by the bleachers, watching the team and trying to look out as usual until Johnny calls him over to come down for a bit. 

"Jaehyun, this is Kalen, my brother." He introduces him. With his assigned name. 

Jaehyun chortles in disbelief when he sees Mark. "You have a brother?" He asks and Johnny nods. 

"Sup," Mark tries to give him a bro hug, but Jaehyun shakes his hand instead. 

Jaehyun pays no mind to Mark's presence and diverts his attention back to Johnny and proceeds to talk about their game plan.

When practice ends he tells Johnny that the football team plans to host a party tonight. It would be the perfect opportunity for them to keep an eye on everyone. 

"Can I come?" Mark asks.

Jaehyun eyes him from the side, "Yeah uh sure" and only bids goodbye to Johnny. "See ya bro." 

Mark could already feel that he didn't belong in this crowd, but he and Johnny had to stick together and investigate. 

The night of the party came and the two brothers were stoked. "Our first frat party." Mark thought. 

"Your first frat party." Johnny spat playfully, trying to meticulously style and wax his hair. 

Mark scoffs, still trying to figure out what shirt to wear but at the end, he settles with a navy blue Ralph Lauren shirt. He was too lazy to fix his hair and wears a cap instead. 

Johnny tosses Mark something that he thinks the younger might need later on. 

"Are you for real? A condom?" A baffled Mark says in disbelief, but sliding it in his pocket anyway.

"You'll never know wildcat. You'll never know." He gives him a mischievous wink.

This wasn't just any party to them, this was an operation. Though they chose to leave for the party unarmed, they were thankfully trained well for hand to hand combat, just in case things went extremely wrong. But that was besides the point, they couldn't destroy their chances of blending in.

When the tandem arrives at the party, the elder was the only one to be greeted enthusiastically, Mark shakes it off simply because being friends with these jocks were the last thing on his list. It was Johnny's call if it didn't work for him, they had their roles. 

"Go around for a bit, I'll take care of him." Johnny whispers to Mark with a drink already in his hand.  

Mark shrugs his shoulders and explores the frat house, lit with red and blue, music blaring through speakers and the muffled conversations from the people that filled it. 

Nothing seemed too off the bat here, it was everything you would expect a frat party to be. There hasn't been a trace of NCT anywhere, or maybe it was because they were being taken too discreetly. 

"Want some?" a random guy nudges him, discreetly handing a packet of the substance. He takes it and plays it cool. 

"Yo, sick. Thanks man." He pats him on the back. 

“Yo it’s not free.” The guy laughs then it disappears. “20 bucks.”

Mark's smile fades, embarrassed. Thank god he brought his wallet. “Here. Thanks.”

"Don't sweat it." and he gives him a small salute.

Mark quickly slides it in his pocket, to keep as evidence later. 

"Bad boy." You snake your hands around his shoulders. "Want some?" You offer your red punch with vodka. 

His eyes widen, but eases under your touch. Finally, someone who's familiar. Overly familiar. "Hey, y/n" he shakes his head no. "I don't feel like drinking tonight" he makes up an excuse. 

"So are you…" 

"Am i?" 

"Are you going to take that?" You say, pointing at the pocket where he hid it.

Uncertain, he shakes his head no. "But should I? Have you ever had one of these?" 

"Oh god no." You say in disgust. "I have seen people's reactions to it though. It's borderline batshit crazy, those things." You explain. Hoping that he wouldn't ever try taking those. You knew about the whole Minjung incident. "One of the girls who lived next door died because of it." 

Your remark sparks an interest in him. "Minjung?" He questions. This could be a big help to their operation. But it wasn't a good time to interrogate you.

You raise your brows, "How'd you know her name?" 

He fakes a cough and tries to quickly think of a reason. "Mr- Mr. Benett told us. He said that recently a student passed away but never said it was because of the drug…" 

You crease up, "That old man is fucking clueless." You cross your arms. "But I'm just looking out for you okay? There's safer ways to have fun." 

"Right " He pursues a smile.

Too much fun wasn't part of the plan tonight but you made it difficult for him to do his job. Effortlessly. 

You fake a pout. "C'mon tiger, live a little! It's not going to be that bad." You try to convince him, wrapping your arms around his neck, trying to keep your drink from spilling, his arms naturally overlapping and resting just right above your ass.

To hell with this. He's been dreaming of this his entire life. After being in such a conservative family and all, he deserved to try new things out. He was old enough. He thinks to himself, while catching a glimpse of Johnny chugging down a keg. "You're right." he smirks, and you offer your drink for him to taste. 

Mark's face scrunches a little from the alcohol, but it felt nice. Good enough for him to grab you by the arm and head to get one himself. 

He scans the counter full of different drinks with a variety of colored juices. He chooses the blue lemonade with vodka which you gladly made, handing him the red plastic cup after. "Cheers" you say, delighted with the smile he gave you. 

It wasn't long enough until the both of you were back to dancing again, not giving a care like everyone else. He could kiss you right now. And he did, he couldn't miss the opportunity to make your tongues turn purple. 

----

Johnny has done everything with all his might to get along with these jocks, kids these days do party harder huh? He doesn't remember having this kind of intolerance to alcohol before, he had to get it out of his system before he forgets what he's really here for.  

"Nah this dude's a goner!" Yuta enthusiastically points at Johnny, who now had both of his hands on his knees. 

"Hold on, I gotta have some air outside" he raises his arms in defeat, words slurring out of his mouth and vision so blurred he could barely tell where he's going. Finally after much stumbling and ending up in filthy corners, he managed to find a bathroom. Not a usable one though.

"Oh god- sorry" He says as he sees two people fucking each other's guts out on on the sink. "Nevermind" he immediately shuts the door and leaves them alone. It didn't take long for him to just head outside and vomit on the lawn of the frat house. Oh yes, great fertilizer. 

Johnny regains a very small amount of composure and he felt someone tap and rub his back. "You okay?" Jaehyun chuckles, with a drunk Yuta tagging along.

Johnny takes a deep breath and tries to stand straight with all his might, trying to act like everything was under control. "Shits wild here" He chaffs, but his brows furrow when he sees a familiar pattern on Yuta's skin. "What's that you got there?" Johnny tries to reach for the latter's arm carefully. 

Yuta excitedly raises his sleeve, revealing a tattoo. "Oh this? It's a tattoo man. Gotta get inked at some point!" Yuta says, proudly. "Do you want one? I know a place!"

Jaehyun sighs. He was hyperactive again. "Yuta-"

"What? C'mon look I got this as soon as I got out of my parent's house. Those folks made me feel like I was in jail!" The drunk boy overshares. Johnny pays attention because there was a possibility that these thoughts were sober. 

Johnny was quickly disappointed, but not surprised. "Yeah? That's cool. I'll pass. Kinda scared of needles..." He trails off. 

"Pfft. Pussy." Yuta spat, Johnny was ready to give him a piece of his knuckles. 

Jaehyun blocks Johnny with his arm, "Cut him some slack man, I've known this guy since high school. Let him have his fun. He won't even remember this." 

The three head back inside to enjoy the rest of the party when the duo completely forget what they were initially here for. Johnny had spent the rest of the night enjoying himself, so did Mark.

You and Mark decided to play along with the drinking games these people planned, with the faces that you will surely forget by tomorrow. 

You've already had a couple to drink, so it became harder for you to aim in beer pong. Luckily, Mark was right behind you, with a steady grip on your hips and one arm helping you aim for the ball. 

You close one eye trying to focus as he helped you aim for the cup. "She shoots, she scores!" he shouts playfully and there goes another drink for you. 

"You still alright? We can stop if you want," He whispers, lips tingling on your collarbone, sending chills to your spine. 

You turn to face him, a gentle hand on his lean chest. "I want you.".  You whisper, dragging a painfully slow finger to his lips. You were so knit together that you could feel the growing tent in his pants on your throbbing core. He was irresistible. 

He gulps. Here comes nothing. Johnny sure knows his shit huh?

Mark quickly leads you upstairs, looking for a vacant room to settle in. He turned the knobs one by one but they were all locked, your last resort was a surprisingly available restroom. 

"Will this do for you?" Mark hesitates, because he didn't want you to feel uncomfortable.

Your tipsy self playfully pinches his cheek, "You do it for me, tiger." And it was enough to drive him to the edge. 

As soon as the both of you enter the bathroom, your lips connect once again, sloppily kissing each other like you were out of your minds. Like you wanted to swallow and consume this man whole. 

"I want you to see for yourself how crazy you make me." You say through the slapdash kisses.

He puts a hand under your dress, feeling your drenched cunt. "You're so fucking wet. Is this all for me?" He says out of breath, mouth almost watering with the thought of your pussy in his mouth.

"All yours baby." You bite his lower lip and stick out your tongue for him to suck. 

He raises your dress just below your ribcage and slides down your black lace lingerie as it fell to your ankles, "Just so you know, I'm keeping this." Mark smirks as he quickly puts it in his pocket. 

"It's meant to be yours," You purr, setting your back flat on the cold tiled wall, throwing your head back at the sensation of Mark leaving wet kisses on your thighs. 

He kneels and places your legs over his shoulders, lifting your feet off the ground. He was sturdy as a rock as his two arms held your thighs for support while you removed his cap for you to wear over your head and your fingers to be locked in his hair. 

"Fuck." You hiss as his tongue lapped on your folds, slurping on your wetness like he worshiped you. He sucked repeatedly on your clit making your legs tremble, so good that you might fall over but his reflexes were out of his world and he knew where exactly to support you. 

Your eyes painfully roll to the back of your head from the sensation he was giving you, "God, Kalen don't fucking stop-" you moan and you swear this man had some spell casted on his mouth by how magical it worked. 

You grind your hips involuntarily as his mouth followed it, like this could not get any better than it already was. But you could only take so much. "Kalen I'm gonna cum, fuck" 

"It's not over until it's over baby," he sets you down and removes his mouth from your pussy, you could barely stand with your legs feeling like absolute gelatin. 

Mark gets a condom out of his pocket and quickly unbuckles his belt, making his jeans fall to the ground and expose his throbbing cock, boxers wet with precum. 

"You think you can last longer for me baby girl?" 

You could only nod your head eagerly because you were growing extremely impatient. 

He wraps your legs around his waist in a swift move. "Good girl" He whispers, and you were more than ready to take him. Again and again. 

He inserts himself inside you, stretching your walls and you whimper, wrapping your arms around his head to keep his face close to the valley of your breasts. 

"That's right, open up for me, pretty girl." He pleads as he continues to thrust in a steady pace. Breath hitched as he brought his face up to you, slurping your tongue once more like it was a popsicle that he couldn't get enough of. "Taking me so well like always huh?" he chuckles and picks up his pace, throaty moans escaping his mouth. 

Thank fuck the music in this house was loud enough to blow off people's eardrums, making your moans almost inaudible outside, but loud enough for Marks pleasure. For his ears only. 

“Fuck I’m almost-” Mark huffs, “there.” he breathes. When his pace becomes sloppy and finally comes, you hold onto him, your legs numb that you could barely stand on your own. Conscious with the fact that Mark will get to see how fucked out you look, but he absolutely loved it. 

-----

"What'd I tell ya? That condom didn't go to waste." Johnny snickers while laying in bed, tossing his football. 

Head in the clouds with the thought of you, Mark could only smile to himself but quickly changes the subject before they both lose all purpose. 

"Find anything out yet?" Mark asks mindlessly, because all he could think about was you. 

"Nope." Johnny says, popping the p. He lied.

And something clicks with Mark. That packet of NCT he managed to keep in his pocket. He rushes over to his hamper and flips the pockets of his pants. 

"Someone handed it to me yesterday, I kept it for evidence to bring at the headquarters." He hands the packet to Johnny.

The elder observes it, trying to push the thought of Yuta possibly being a dealer to the very back of his head right now. Give it time. Mark was just starting to enjoy being with you, Johnny has been enjoying being one of the new aces in the football team, it wouldn't hurt to hold it out for a little while. 

"Also," Mark adds, "Y/n knows about Minjung. Said she lived across the hall."

"And?" Johnny anticipates. 

"That's all I know for now. It's still a big step though." Mark concludes.

----

Johnny spends his free time hanging with Jaehyun and the rest of the boys. If not in practice, they hit the gym to always be in tip-top shape. 

Yuta swings a heavy arm over Johnny's shoulders, "Well isn't it our quitter!" 

Johnny shoots Jaehyun a look, "You told me he wouldn't remember." 

Jaehyun could only chuckle, "Well he did." 

Yuta was loud as a goose, he seemed to have so much more energy than the other members of the team that Johnny became suspicious of where it came from. 

He recalls the time when the chief described the effects of the NCT substance, and one of them was being focused and hyperactive.

Yuta, besides being silly, was on top of his own game. After joking around he was a hundred percent focused on the gym, his reps were consistent, his routines were clean. Jaehyun tells Johnny that Yuta was also one of the greatest instruments of the football team. Though not gifted with the brightest mind, he worked hard to stay in this university to prove his parents wrong—and to avoid business school.

He was a potential heir to a known electronics company in Japan, but he insisted that he pursue being part of the varsity team to keep his scholarship in sports science. Which until now was an endless debate between him and his parents. 

Jaehyun had invited Johnny to stay over at the frat house to hang out, and he did. 

It was different to see it in daylight, with no people partying, no vomit and crushed chips on the floor, it looked well taken care of. 

"You guys clean this up yourselves after every party?" Johnny asks, impressed. 

"Yep," Jaehyun proudly says. 

"You gotta look out for the shit they leave behind here. It's amusing." Yuta retorts. 

Johnny raises a brow, "Oh yeah? Like what?" 

Without wit, Yuta replies, "Drugs"

Johnny, absolutely being taken back by his bold remark was immediately clutched by Jaehyun, "He doesn't mean it." 

His suspicion grew so much that he couldn't help but finally bring up the subject. "Like what? Like NCT?" he enunciates. 

Jaehyun, quite astounded by Johnny's knowledge with the substance replies, "Hm maybe. You know about that?" 

And he was in the trance. "Heard of it yeah, can you hook me up with some?

"Oh sure it’s right-" Yuta reaches for his pocket, "here." and sticks his middle finger out playfully. Johnny swats it away.

"Woah there-" Jaehyun almost bust a gut while laughing. "You're definitely new to this. We don't have any." He tells Johnny. "Don't be such a narc." 

Way too defensively, Johnny retorts, "I'm not!"

"That's what they all say." Yuta shrugs with a chuckle.

 He spends the rest of the afternoon with them and surprisingly hasn't dealt with unusual rituals and behavior. They acted their age, playing games on a PS5, drinking soda until their bladders exploded, filling themselves with junk food and spray cheese. He could be wrong about them after all.

----

Days passed and not a single thing has led them closer to their target person, it was harder than they thought even when everything felt like it was right in front of them. 

"Student-Parent day is coming soon, are you going?" You ask Mark as you take a sip of your coffee. 

You took him to your favorite coffee shop for the first time, it's a nice and quiet place for you to study and relax. 

"They have those?" Mark hesitates because then he'd have to tell his parents that he's undercover and they'd forget and blow it for him. "I guess so." 

"Good. Because I'd like you to meet my parents." You smile. Though you didn't know where you stood with Mark, the past few weeks with him had been a breath of fresh air. He was kind, funny and supportive. He was simple yet his ways of showing his thoughts were sophisticated, never had you once thought that you would get along so well with a person in such a short time. You weren't the one to ask for labels though. You simply liked to enjoy whatever you had at the moment. In your experience, putting labels on things just always gave a reason for it to vanish. 

"What why?" He says, a little too surprised.

"Look Kalen, don't break a sweat with this. I'm just going to introduce you. They won't mind." You assure him. 

He simply leaves the topic behind and ponders on how he could make this work. He was scared because you had no idea that this was all temporary, and he's terrified by the fact that he wishes it wasn't. He was finding all the possible reasons and excuses to retract himself from this relationship he has with you, but all you ever gave him was a reason to stay. It broke his heart knowing that one day, he'll have to disappoint you with the truth. 

"Something wrong?" 

He snaps out of it. "Nothing." and forces a smile. 

-----

"We aren't making any progress man," Mark runs a hand through his hair and sighs. His back falls heavily on his bed.

Johnny anxiously bites his lap, eyes fixated on the floor. "Yuta has a tattoo…" 

"What?" the younger jolts up. 

Johnny backs up defensively, "But it wasn't the one we saw! You know how the tattoo artist said he's done a couple of those."

"Are you shitting me right now? We've been trying to find it for weeks! Why didn't you tell me?" His voice raises, and a vein on his forehead couldn't help but emerge. 

"I don't think it's him man, I told you it’s not the same tattoo" Johnny defends. 

Mark lets out a pungent laugh, poking his tongue on the inside of his cheek, his jaw stiffens. "Right. I knew it. " He says in disbelief. "Everything's right in front of you already! Too scared to bust your new besties now?" 

"They aren't my new besties stop making up bullshit." The elder stubbornly defends. 

"No you stop because I'm actually trying here!" 

"Oh you are? Explain why you're getting so serious with that girl of yours. Wait until she finds out that she's just part of the plan." He jumps on Mark's throat and walks out of the room. 

The thing is, you weren't even part of the plan. Not at all. 

-----

"You better have good shit for me today." The chief clearly was not being in his best mood today. 

Mark scoffs, he and Johnny had not settled their differences since the fight from two days ago, they were doing their own investigations without communicating. Which was a big no.

"Ask the big guy here, I'm sure he has something." Tongue in his cheek, Mark glares. 

The chief slams a big hand on the table and shouts, "Stop acting like fucking children!" 

Johnny stiffened up on his seat, and gulped before he spoke. "I think we need to initiate a drug test on one of the students, chief. I have my eye on this one person. We could pretend to say that the thing is randomized and mandatory. If the intel can look up information about his parents, we could send a pretend automated message about their child being randomly selected for a drug test." 

The chief seems to be taking Johnny's point well, "And who is this you suspect?" 

"Nakamoto Yuta." 

Mark looks at Johnny with wide eyes, he thought Johnny wouldn't be turning him in. 

"I see. I'll get the department to execute this idea of yours and we'll let you know right away. Dismissed." 

Mark catches up to Johnny who had been walking ahead of him and tries to reach for the elder's shoulder. "Why didn't you tell me?" 

"Let go of me," Johnny knocks Mark's hand off his shoulder. "Are you happy now?" 

Dumbfounded, Mark couldn't seem to understand where Johnny's irritation was coming from. "Look man, I'm sorry you had to turn one of your friends in but you know it's our job." 

"I know okay? I don't need you telling me what to do because so far, I know pretty damn well that I'm not meddling in your fucking business." 

Mark pushes a hard hand on Johnny, making him stumble a little. "My relationship has nothing to do with this. Are you jealous? Because if you are, I know pretty damn well you can score a lot of chicks here. I don't see the problem." 

Johnny tries to speak but was unable to because Mark had already stormed off elsewhere. 

----

 "Shit. My parents are coming to fetch me today." Yuta runs a veiny hand through his ginger hair; another reason for his parents to pull him out of university. But here's the first: 

Jaehyun, disinterested even if he knew it was serious whenever Yuta's parents butt in and ask why.

"They wanna do a drug test on me." 

Jaehyun chortles, "What? You? What made them think that? Besides you acting like a crackhead?" 

"They got this stupid email from the dean that I was amongst the randomly chosen individuals to get tested." He pops a sour kid patch in his mouth, "They're never letting this go." He pinches the bridge of his nose and shakes his head. "I have never even tried NCT." he rolls his eyes. 

Yuta, though by the looks of him, gave an impression of a boy who would try everything in front of him, but he's a wuss with a good conscience. Too good.

"Well, you are innocent after all, right?" Jaehyun shrugs. "There's nothing to worry about. Um, besides your dyed hair, your tattoo, that lip piercing." He eyes him up and down. "No biggie, just probably uh—two weeks worth of grounding. And no allowance." 

"Fuck you man." the ginger-haired boy glared.

------

Johnny walks around the campus, alone. It sucked to not be on good terms with Mark, what ever happened to bros before hoes? It just wasn't the same doing things without him. Johnny had given Mark his personal space for the both of you, but at times like this—it was the hardest to stay out of it. 

As he passes by the back of the Fine Arts building, he sees two familiar faces on the exposed staircase. 

He squints his eyes and tries to focus on who those people might be, the mop of ash purple hair too familiar. But one thing that utterly shocked him was the sight of someone he expected the least.

It was you and Jaehyun, standing way too close to each other for anyone's liking.

Johnny takes a deep breath and sucks in his cheeks. He didn't know what this meant, and he wished he wouldn't have to be the one to give it any interpretation that would disappoint him and especially Mark. 

He walks away from the scene before you get a chance to see him.

"Jaehyun, you don't have to stand this close to me," You backed up, hips hitting the ledge lightly. 

He looks to the side, then back at you. "Sorry," he cockily says, backing up with both of his hands raised. "Can't help it. My best friend's too fine. And someone was looking." he mumbles.

"What?" 

"Nothing, he's gone"

"You know I'm with Kalen right now Jaehyun." You say with worry, it could've been anyone. "Quit. Don't ruin this for me." 

He manages to let a disgruntled chuckle, "And yet you still can't put a label on it." 

And with that, he was off. 

The entire time Johnny was battling with himself if she should tell Mark about what he saw or not. Them being in a misunderstanding right now doesn't change the fact that he was still his best friend. 

After the excruciatingly slow walk to the dorm, he had hoped that Mark wouldn't be around, so he wouldn't have to face him with the information he had right away. He couldn't even form the words for it. The. again, when did anything ever go his way, right? 

Johnny enters the room and there was Mark, munching on some chips while viewing something on his laptop. Something probably for one of his classes. Mark didn't have to take this so seriously (by this he meant his classes) but he did, because the Mark we all know just loved to learn. Good for him. 

He ignores Johnny's presence; though he was very much aware of it. The elder plops down his bed and grabs his football to toss around. It was so awkward; not greeting each other with their usual weirdness and excitement. It felt like there was this gaping hole between them that both of them were afraid to cross, and no one had the initiative to take a risk—for now. 

"Find anything?" Johnny asks Mark, eyes on the ceiling. 

"Nope." 

"Why not?" 

"Do you have anything?"

Well, he did. But not about their task. Instead, he says "Nope." but he couldn’t help but ask. “How are you and y/n?”

“Good.” Mark plainly answers.

“Good.”

And left it at that. 

-----

You were going to let your parents meet Mark today, and his would meet yours. You were new to this, there was not a single man you had introduced to your parents, aside from Jaehyun. But that was a different story, because Jaehyun was a childhood friend. 

So Mark was the first… whatever this was called. You couldn’t get yourself to call him that, you didn’t deserve to. For you labels were earned, not just given. But this will do for now. 

You see him from a distance with his parents, he resembled his father’s face structure and his mother’s eyes. His smile was uniquely his own. You wave a hand in the air and he catches the sight of it, smiling even wider. 

“You’re in college again honey?” Mark’s mom asks, clueless.

“Mom, I'm undercover please don’t bring that up anywhere. Please keep quiet for me.” He whispers sternly. 

His mom zips her mouth figuratively, his dad got the idea of the whole thing, so they acted according to the assignment. 

As he got closer to where you were, his legs grew weak. But he couldn’t falter, he had to put on a strong face. But at that moment, Mark wanted to be buried alive. He wanted to turn his back and run away.

“Mom, dad, this is Kalen.” You present him to them with a grin. 

“H-hello.” Mark lets out, his chest clenching. 

“Kalen. You sure I haven’t seen you before?” Your father says, gripping Mark’s hand firm, he could almost squeeze the guts out of it. Your father was his deputy chief. 

Mark, crushed under the man’s grip, “N-no sir.” he manages to blurt out. 

You sense the tension and tell your dad, “Dad, that’s enough.” 

Your dad let go, with a smug and bitter look on his face. Your mom, who- with absolutely no idea what Mark has to do with your father, greets him politely. 

You greet Mark's parents with glee, and proceed to walk with him, keeping a fair distance from both your parents. "Sorry about my dad, he's just stressed about his job. He's a deputy chief, rustling with knuckleheads all the time." You explain. 

Sure he's been through a lot. Mark thought. "Yea yea, I totally get it. It's fine." he nods. Knuckleheads. He laughs to himself. 

The rest of the parents’ day event was a total drag, every time Mark got into eye contact with their chief, it had seemed like the man wanted to rip his head away from his body, or maybe skin him alive. Mark had no idea, because if he did he wouldn’t have risked going this far with you. What is left to do now? How can he ever face his boss knowing that he broke the first rule given to them right in his face? And with his own daughter? He should start digging his own grave at this point. 

But the chief didn't lay a finger on him, not now when his daughter was at stake. 

----

Mark has been itching to tell Johnny about what had happened. He was willing to set aside their differences because he needed his best friend, now. 

"Johnny-" Mark breathes, not making eye contact with the elder who was on his phone, this room had been dead silent for days. 

Johnny's head perks up, it was nice hearing him call his name again. "Yeah?" 

"I kinda messed up… big time." Mark scratches the back of his head, shameful. 

Johnny sits up, and listens to the younger more attentively. "What do you mean?" 

"Y/n.." he trails off, "Y/n is the chief's daughter." And catches his face on his hands. 

"Fuck…" Johnny didn't know what to say. "How'd you know?" 

"The student-parent weekend thing. God, I swear dude he was going to skin me alive if he could. But shit, I didn't know!" Mark exclaims, hands all over the place. "If I did then I wouldn't have gone through with this. She has never told me about her parents until that day. I don't know what to do." 

He seemed so helpless, he didn't want to break to you like this, it was too messy. But damn if he didn't want to keep being with you. It couldn't end like this, not yet. 

"I- I don't know what to say man… God I'm sorry this sucks ass. You know I always let you do what makes you happy right? But what if," Johnny stops, debating if he should go on with what he planned to say. 

"What if?" Mark anticipates. 

"What if she isn't who you thought she was?" 

"Great. I'm so fucking stupid for thinking you would be with me on this one." Mark slams his hands on his lap and stands, slamming the door on the way out. 

"Mark-" Johnny reaches for the door but misses a beat, it was too late. He let his best friend slip away from him again. 

And as soon as Mark left their room, he was on his way to meet up with you, hoping you would be free. He hadn't had much time with you after the following days of the event because you had always excused yourself with how busy you are with your submissions and requirements, or that's what you would like to tell him. 

Your phone rings in your pocket as you excuse yourself from the people you were with at the moment, when you check to see who it was, you find the quietest place possible. 

"Kalen," You spoke, "What's up?" 

"Are you free? I was hoping I'd finally catch you." 

You sigh, you missed spending time with him. "I am," you say in advance before you bail out of this place you were in. "See you at the cafe in 10?" 

You hear him chuckle over the line, and you just knew he was smiling when he said "Great, I'll see you." 

"See you, Kal." You smile and tuck your phone back in your pocket. 

"Who was that?" Jaehyun asks when he bumps into you in the hallway of the frat house. "Oh you've got that sickening smile right now. It must've been Kalen" He rolls his eyes. 

"Whatever Jae," You brush past him. "I'm heading out." 

"But we're not done!" 

You didn't respond and left, shutting the door behind you. 

The cafe was a short walk from your university, but you just happened to bump into Mark on the way, now you don't have to walk alone. 

He smoothly slips his hand in yours, holding it gently and reading your expression. You look to the side with a wide grin on your face, unable to help the fact that you were blushing like crazy. 

"Nice hoodie," he comments. The garment looked a little too familiar to him, he just couldn't quite put his finger on it. “You never gave back my jacket..”

You mentally facepalm, forgetting the fact that you were wearing Jaehyun's hoodie. You pray that Mark wouldn't see this on him anytime soon, you wouldn't want him to get a bad idea. 

"Oh right that, I’ll get it dry cleaned and I’ll give it back" you utter. "Something bothering you?" You ask, trying to read his sulky expression. 

He shakes his head, "No no, I want you to keep it. And I just missed you." He forms a small smile, making your heart melt. You were so easily captivated by his presence that it scared you. He always left you feeling unhinged—in a good way. 

"I missed you too, tiger." You grip his hand a little tighter.  

When he licks his lips, only by then you realize how much you missed kissing him. Right then and there, you just wanted another taste. This was exactly why you were trying to keep yourself busy and away from him for a bit; you had to convince yourself that you couldn’t be attached to him because you could never take care of the things you keep. 

He opens the door for you like always and the chimes in the cafe ring in a sweet melody, a sound that always reminds you of your moments with him. The both of you always shared comfortable memories in this cafe, from small coffee dates to working on papers until it closed. You couldn’t imagine sharing it with anyone else. 

When you settle down he automatically takes your usual orders right away. You could not take your eyes off him, he was such a dream.

He sets the tray down with your drinks, and a pastry that you shared a love-hate relationship with. Cheesecake.

You chuckle at the thought of recalling all the times that you convinced Mark that cheesecake slices weren’t supposed to be as huge as they are and that there are definitely better one’s in other places, but Mark’s favorite was Starbucks’. Maybe that’s why you have learned to love it somehow, because you get to enjoy it with him. 

"I thought you didn't like this? You almost finished the whole thing… I literally bought this for myself." He says sarcastically, very much amused at how you barely even noticed that you were close to finishing the entire thing. 

"Oh shit.. sorry" You show him a pout and feed the last piece to him. "Here." You smile cutely. 

He rolls his eyes and bites it off your fork, you both bid goodbye to the cheesecake. 

Mark’s phone rings in his pocket and when he checks to see, it was Johnny. He lets out a sigh and puts his phone back in his pocket. 

“Are you going to take that?” You ask. 

“Nah”

But Johnny was persistent, he did see this coming. He knew that Mark would ignore him at first so he decided to send him a message. This was about their job. 

“Mark, I know you hate me right now but we have to go to the office. Yuta’s tests came back.” Johnny sends. 

Mark takes a peek at his message, immediately standing up. 

“Where are you going?” You say, surprised. 

“I’m sorry I gotta go- meet my brother. He needs me for something.” He hesitantly leans forward, wanting to kiss you on the lips but kisses your forehead instead. “Text me when you get home okay?.” And with that, he was off. 

Mark rings Johnny and the elder quickly answers the call, Mark informs him that he would be heading to the office by himself since he was already closer to the location. 

But he suddenly remembers about his conflict with the chief. So he waited for Johnny to arrive outside. 

Lowering his pride he says, “I’m scared.” 

Johnny looks at him with empathy and says, “We can’t change what happened Mark. Just take it all in for now and we’ll figure out what to do about it later.” He pats the younger’s back and gives his shoulders an assuring squeeze before heading inside. 

Mark could not look at his boss, the feeling of wanting to be eaten alive was back again, why did he have to be your father? 

When Mark finally gets the courage to face him, the chief yells, “The fuck are you looking at?” making Mark flinch and shrink into his seat. 

Johnny felt the need to protect his friend and at the same time, to get what they were really here for. “Um, Sir can you save the ass beating for next time? We really need to look into Yuta’s results now.” He scratches the back of his neck. 

The chief grunts angrily, getting the file from his drawer. “Negative.” He says. 

Mark and Johnny give each other a look and take the folder that had the results, trying to analyze how it could possibly be negative. 

“Dammit.” Johnny whispers to himself, they had to move quickly before everything slips away from them. He takes note of Yuta’s contact number in the file to use for later. He closes the folder and places it back on the desk. “We’ll take care of this chief.” 

“You better. And you,” He presses a hard finger on Mark’s chest, “Stop fucking around with my daughter. I’ll cut your dick off.” 

Mark purses his lips before speaking, “She’s-” he gulps, “She’s really great sir. I’m not playing around with her. I’d never do anything to hurt her.” 

“You already are.” 

-----

The following day, Yuta receives a text from an unknown number, asking him to meet in an unusual location on campus. He was very skeptical at first but  believed that it was probably harmless. 

“Yah, Rolan! Sup.” He offers his fist to bump. “I was just waiting for someone here too. Some random number texted me and I was like "you know, fuck it"” he shrugs.

Johnny couldn’t help but chuckle. Was innocence even the word to describe this? "And you believed them?" Johnny shakes his head.

“Yeah! Look here’s the number” he flashes his phone screen to Johnny, “I wonder where they are. Let me give them a call.” he mindlessly puts the phone next to his ear. Yuta hears a muffled cellphone ringtone and looks around for it. “Yo, your phone’s ringing you should get that.” Yuta says to Johnny, still having absolutely no idea.

“It was us who texted you, dummy.” Mark retorts, appearing from the shadows, now both of them are cornering Yuta. 

“Yo,-” Yuta laughs, still not getting the point of this all. “What’s your name again?” 

Mark rolls his eyes, “Kalen.” 

“Right! Kalen wassup? You’re his brother right?” Yuta points to Johnny with his thumb up.

Johnny pops a tongue in his cheeks, and cocks his brow. “Alright, fun’s over.” It was a shame he had to do this too early, but it had to stop. He locks Yuta’s throat with his arm, pushing him onto the solid brick wall. 

Yuta tries to toughen up and tries to push Johnny’s arm off, but due to their size difference, Johnny definitely kept him still. 

“What do you know about him” Johnny asks sternly. 

“A-about who?” Yuta coughs.

“Jaehyun. What does he do?” Mark follows. 

“Besides being the most handsome man I know, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Mark shakes his head, “Well,” and gets a gun out of the pocket of his hoodie. “Will this make you talk?”

Yuta looks at him with wide eyes, he was now scared shitless. “Why- how- who are you guys!” He exclaims. 

“The police mother fucker.” Johnny says. 

But despite everything, Yuta’s tactless mouth was definitely not his best asset. “I knew it. you looked too old to be a freshman.” He looks over at Johnny. “And you, I didn’t expect you to be a cop but you did give Narc vibes in that philosophy class.” 

Mark and Johnny give each other a look, they could not be sidetracked. 

“Are you done?” Johnny tells Yuta, and he simply nods. “So are you going to talk?”

“I’m telling you I don’t know! He never trusts me with his business, he says I have a big mouth.” 

Mark snickers, “I can tell.”

Yuta scoffs, and follows, “He’s been out often recently, but he never tells me where he’s going. So I don’t know what I can do for you.” 

“Listen here buddy,” Johnny warns. “If this gets to your parents that you’re involved with someone who supplies and distributes drugs, you’re going to get your entire family deported. Do you want that?” 

Yuta gulps, “No.” then helplessly says, “I don’t know how to earn his trust with these kinds of things. He’s known me since forever but-” 

“No buts.” Mark interrupts. “Use that head of yours or your ass is going back to Japan.” 

-------

Yuta had been on edge ever since that encounter with Mark and Johnny, now this entire thing would be up to him if he cooperated or not. Yuta’s heart had been lost a couple times, but it was definitely looking to be in the right place. So he’s trying his best to help out, even if it meant that he would have to turn in his best friend. 

When he gets the time to be alone with his thoughts he looks back at all the times that Jaehyun had made him feel like he wasn’t enough to be his friend. Not giving him a good position in football, walking out on him whenever he wanted to, keeping secrets from him. Maybe he was too busy trying so hard to be validated by Jaehyun that he never really got to realize that he lost himself in the process. Letting himself be trampled all over by everyone; this was his time to do something not just for himself, but for everyone else.

On the night when Jaehyun could not escape from Yuta’s presence any longer, he thought that it would be harmless to let his friend tag along for once. It’s not like he had other friends to be with, right? Right. Jaehyun could believe that if he wanted to. 

“I’m a bit sore today, you think you can drive me?” Jaehyun asks Yuta as they were walking in the parking lot after practice. 

To be fair, Yuta was sore too. But of course they wouldn’t care. “Alright, where to?” He still manages to say. 

“I’ll tell you along the way.” 

Yuta simply shrugs and Jaehyun tosses him his car keys, placing their gym bags at the trunk of his car. Jaehyun had given him directions while driving and it was somewhere he had never been and seen before. “Are you sure it’s here?” He says, trying to drive into a dark abandoned building with only the car’s headlights being the source of light. 

“Yeah yeah, wait for me here.” Jaehyun opens the door of the car and slips away from it. “Don’t worry, this place is safe.” He tells Yuta and shuts the door close. 

Yuta immediately whips out his phone, thinking that this might be his biggest clue and texts Johnny. 

I don’t know where I am, but I’m gonna send you my pinned location based on what my gps says alright? I think this was where Jaehyun had been going. 

Johnny immediately tells Mark about this and they immediately take their car to go to where Yuta had told them. 

 Rolan: Yuta, it’s not safe for you to stay there. Can you drive away and head back here? It would be better if we keep you alive. 

I guess I could, Jaehyun’s pretty far out now. I saw him go in somewhere, I’m sure you’ll find this entrance when you get here.

With that Yuta drives off and tries to find his way back to the campus, hoping that this would be successful for Mark and Johnny. He had such a strong feeling about this, everything could go right, or just extremely wrong. But he had to expect both to keep his feet on the ground. He did the right thing. He kept telling himself that. 

“Dude this place is sketchy as hell.” Mark says, looking around. “Do you think Yuta told us the truth? I mean he’s Jaehyun’s bestfriend right?”

“It wouldn’t hurt to try Mark, he seemed pretty genuine about it. Besides, all Jaehyun does is use him. I’m sure he’s tired of it.” Johnny says as they searched the place with their flashlights, their guns ready to fire if they ever go under attack. 

Finally, they find the entrance Yuta has been talking about, the chain attached to the door unlocked and loosened. When they get closer they arm themselves and keep their guard, Johnny kicks the door open and Mark could not believe what he had just seen. 

This couldn’t be. He kept repeating to himself, he didn’t want to believe that this was his reality. 

The reality that you were the one who was behind all of this.

“Hands up! We’re the police.” Johnny shouts, echoing throughout the entire warehouse. 

Mark gulps, he could not bring himself to move his feet and go closer. When you see him, you feel like you have been the biggest disappointment in someone’s life. “Kalen,” You plead with your hands up, terrified with the fact that Johnny had called off a warning shot, making you and Jaehyun back up. 

“Y/n.” Mark says, still struggling to get closer to you and lift his arm to aim his gun towards you. “Why- how could you?”

And you couldn’t answer him. The last thing you ever wanted to do was disappoint him, and yet you turned out to be every single disappointment that this world could think of. 

“Great.” Jaehyun says in anger, remorseful with the fact that both of you just got caught by the two people who had been the closest to you these past months. 

“Mark, come on. This is just as hard as it is for me than it is for you. We have to do this. It’s all we’ve been working for.” Johnny faces him, also extremely disheartened by this revelation.

Mark? His real name was Mark? “Who’s Mark?” You ask before he continues to approach you.

“Right. Now you know.” He takes a deep breath. He gets his handcuffs out of his pocket and races towards you before you could even get away. It was bizarre; how you even thought of escaping this. 

“You have the right to remain silent,” His hands shake while putting them against your back, “Anything that you say can and will be held against you in the court of law.” He swallows, and you sob. 

 “I’m so sorry I-” he cuts you off.

“You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be appointed for you.” He concludes the Miranda rights and adds, “It’s one thing to disappoint me, but another to disappoint your father.”

-----end------

#nct #mark lee #mark lee smut #nct 127 #nct dream #mark lee fluff #kpop au #johnny suh #johnny fluff #johnny smut #kpop fluff #kpop smut #nakamoto yuta #jung jaehyun #jaehyun #taeyong #jungwoo #doyoung #winwin #haechan #taeil #kpop imagine

[idy-ll-ique]

Just Peachy.

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x F!Reader

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: mentions of injuries and blood, overall very fluffy and cute

Requested: nope

Summary: in which Y/N gets hurt and Ransom is the perfect fiancé.

Author's Note: hiya peeps! ok im gonna say it,,, im a hoe for soft!ransom idc idc. enjoy!

---

"If anything happens while I'm at work, if you get hurt, don't hesitate to call me, alright? I'll be home in 15 minutes. Just call." Wise words by Ransom Drysdale, her fiancé.

Was she going to do that? Nope! Y/N grumbled from her position on the ground; she was walking down the stairs when she had tripped and fallen, ending up in a heap on the floor with one ankle definitely broken and a cut on her temple. Slowly, as the pain got too much to bear, she started crawling to the best of her abilities towards the bathroom to get the first aid kit.

As she neared the bathroom her hopes went up, until she saw the cupboard above the sink on top of which the first aid kit was kept. "Who fucking keeps it so high up?" she cursed under her breath as she grabbed the sink, slowly standing up, praying the sink wouldn't break under her as she applied her full body weight on the poor thing. She was successful.

Now putting her entire weight on her good foot, she reached up and, severely underestimating the weight of the kit, yanked it up, causing the heavy box to come crashing down on her. "Damn it, fucking son of a—" she cursed loudly as the box knocked her off her already weak feet. She fell on her back with a grunt and the heavy box landed on her chest, forcing her to exhale a breath. "Fuck."

Y/N forgot to hear a painful crunch.

She started lifting her hands to push the kit away when a sharp pain shot through her left wrist, causing her to wince. "Oh, great, another broken limb? Just what I needed. Great. Fucking peachy," she muttered and shoved the box away with her right hand, moving to sit up. She tried to crawl out of the bathroom but this time, with only one hand to support her, the task was perilous.

Ransom tapped his fingers on his desk at work in the tune of his favorite song, frowning at the blank open document in front of him. He was working on his second book, but today, inspiration was nowhere to be found. No ideas were coming to his head on how to proceed with the next chapter. I wonder what Y/N is doing, he thought and smiled softly at the thought of his fiancée.

Ransom and Y/N met at a party thrown by a mutual friend. He was being his usual, bitter self in the gardens outside the lavish mansion (yes, a mansion) when Y/N had approached him first. "Hi there, I'm Y/N. I noticed you were being too quiet and you slipped out, and wondered if you wanted to talk to someone?"

He wanted to push her away for talking to him like that, especially since he left the house for a reason, but instead he just smiled at her. A genuine smile. "I'd like that a lot." And so, they talked. Ransom was proud to announce that he had first fallen for her nature, her personality and her demeanor instead of her looks, which was what made their relationship special.

At least for Ransom, given the type of man he used to be.

Y/N was extremely gorgeous in his eyes. That was simply an added bonus. By the end of the party, both of them had walked into the house again and Ransom had put on quite a show about asking her out to dinner, which she readily agreed to. She knew what kind of a man he was; spoiled, full of himself and had a big attitude problem but that one talk with him changed her perception of Ransom Drysdale.

He was truly nice to the people he cared about, one of them being her. They talked for a short while and he was nothing short of polite, sweet and funny at times. He flirted endlessly since that was part of his personality but she didn't mind, she liked it, even. Ever since that day, they were inseparable and now, 4 years later, engaged.

"Fuck shit, fuck shit, fuck shit…" Y/N chanted as she slowly crawled to the living room, the pain in her body increasing by the minute. Finally putting her pride aside, she grabbed her phone off the couch and called Ransom, falling to the floor with deep breaths. Ransom's eyes snapped away from his laptop and landed on his phone when it started ringing.

Grinning, he picked up the call when Y/N's smiling face came into view. The moment she spoke, though, his grin dropped. "Hugh…" Y/N choked out, eyes filling with tears when the pain finally caught up to her. "Y/N? Bubba, what's wrong?" he asked worriedly, immediately leaping to his feet. He shut the laptop, grabbed his coat and stormed out of his office, towards his car. Work be damned.

"It's— it's nothing. I'm sorry for calling, I know you're busy—" He nearly scoffed. "Babe, listen to me. You're more important. I'm coming home, I just left the office. Speak to me, bub, tell me," he insisted as he drove like a madman towards his house. "Just got hurt a little bit," Y/N mumbled and Ransom's heart broke. "Darling, I'll take care of it when I get home."

Thankfully, 15 minutes later, he reached home. Ransom hurriedly parked his car and threw open the front door, freezing when he saw his fiancée lying near the couch on the floor, the phone still in her hand as her eyes snapped away from the ceiling towards him. "Ransom," she stuttered and he walked towards her, kneeling next to her. His thumb swiped the blood on her temple.

God, did he want to punch her on her stupid, beautiful face for telling him she was just a little hurt. "Bub, what's this?" He picked her up and placed her on the couch, moving to take her hand but it fell limp… in a weird angle. His eyes widened. "Is your wrist broken?" he whispered and Y/N nodded, turning away from him. "And you had the fucking audacity to tell me it was nothing?!" he screamed.

She kept silent as he checked the rest of her body, finding out that her ankle was broken as well, the skin around it swollen black and blue. "You're a fucking dumbass, you know that?" he muttered as he called a doctor, sitting on the floor next to the couch. "I didn't want to disturb you." She was wheezing and he turned to her, only to see her clutching at her chest with a pained expression on her face.

"Baby?"

"Hurts." He sat up and ripped the t-shirt off her, eyes darkening when they landed on the bruise forming on her chest and between the valley of her breasts. "What the fuck happened when I was gone?" he hissed as he covered her up again. "I… I fell down the stairs first and broke my ankle," she began, fidgeting. "Well you should've called me then!" he insisted, exasperated.

"I didn't want to be a burden," she admitted in a small voice and Ransom's resolve broke. He teared up a bit and pressed his lips to hers, shaking his head. "You're not a burden, Y/N. I told you, if you're hurt at home, call me. I meant it. Even if it's a paper cut, call. Even if it's a skinned knee, call. I'm always here for you, and I always will be here." Y/N sniffled under him.

"Ransom…" He gently sat her up and sat next to her, only to pull her on his lap as he held her close. "Don't you dare think you're a burden ever again. I signed up for this. A burden is something you're not willing to carry. This? I'm willing to carry this to the end of the world," he whispered, squeezing her body as tightly as he could without crushing her. "I love you, Ran."

I love you, too.

"I know, sweetcheeks." And he grinned when her head shot up and she promptly slapped him on the cheek. "You're so full of yourself, Drysdale," she huffed. "You still love me," he hummed as she snuggled into his arms. "Fortunately for you, unfortunately for me, yeah, yes I do," she sighed.

Soon, the doctor arrived, patched her up and said the worst thing she had ever heard in her life.

"Bedrest for 2 weeks till the ankle heals."

And seeing Ransom's shit-eating grin had caused her to glare so viciously at him that even he had cowered. "Babe, doctor's orders, can't help it." After the doctor left, they were now laying side by side on their bed, staring at each other. "I can't just sit here with nothing to do!" she whined, snuggling closer to him. He put an arm around her, sighing.

"Well, face the reality, kitten. You're staying here and that's an order."

"Funny you think you can boss me around, sweetheart."

"I know I can't but this time, I will. I'll strap you down to the bed, mark my words," Ransom said with a roll of his eyes. "Kinky," Y/N snickered and Ransom kissed her nose with a smirk. "You are not getting up, Mrs Drysdale," he whispered and she pouted, jutting her lower lip out as far as she could along with giving him puppy eyes. "Please, Ran?" Ransom laughed.

"No." She groaned loudly. "Ugh, fine! I'll just get up when you go to work," she spoke smugly and Ransom turned to her, eyes wide. "Oh no you don't." He leaped up from the bed, making her whine. "Where are you going?! I need cuddles, Ran, I'm hurt!" she insisted and he got back into bed, taking out his phone. "I'm making calls to work. I'm gonna work from home now."

"You don't have to do that!" she insisted vehemently but Ransom refused to hear it. "I have to! To make sure your cute, dumb little ass stays in bed like the doctor said," he huffed. After one phone call, he sighed in relief and relaxed against the bed. "Pays to be a Thrombey, ya know," he chuckled, ruffling Y/N's hair as she snuggled into his side.

She was a mess. Her left hand was in cast, and so was her right ankle. After the doctor left she had taken off her t-shirt, leaving her in her sports bra, the wound on her chest a deep purple with flecks of red. There was also a bandaid on her temple for the small cut. "I figured." It was quiet for some time. "You never finished the story, babe. How did you get so hurt?"

"Well, first the stairs incident, I told you. After that, I was going to the bathroom to get the first aid kit but it was too heavy. I didn't know that so when I lifted it, it fell on me. I broke my wrist from hitting it on the floor too hard and the first aid kit fell on my chest," she huffed, "The pain was too much so I called you." Ransom frowned. "You should've called earlier."

"I know. Sorry."

"It's okay, baby, I'm here now," Ransom smiled, giving her a loving kiss on the top of her head. "I'm getting tired," she yawned as the adrenaline started wearing off. "Sleep." Ransom adjusted himself so he was now half-lying on the bed, back resting against the headrest as he gathered Y/N in his arms. She fell asleep a few minutes later.

---

"Ran…"

Y/N touched his side of the bed, only to be met with cold sheets instead of his warm body. She blinked the sleep away and sat up, rubbing her eyes and letting out a yawn. Running a hand through her messy hair, she stood up and limped towards the stairs. 2 weeks had passed and as the doctor said, her bedrest was over.

Her ankle had healed but not fully, while the wrist was still in a cast. The wound on her chest was also feeling loads better. She walked down the stairs and entered the kitchen area only to see Ransom cooking breakfast. "Ran," she whined and he turned around. "Y/N! Get your ass in bed, why are you here?"

"It got lonely." She wrapped her arms around him from behind, pressing a soft kiss to his bare back. "Alright, fine." He spun around and grabbed her waist, lifting her and placing her on the kitchen counter. "Sit here." Y/N smiled lazily as she placed her head on his shoulder, watching him cook. He was making eggs. Omelettes.

"How did you sleep?" he questioned when the silence stretched on. "I slept well. The ankle doesn't hurt as much, nor the wound on my chest. But the wrist…" She sighed and Ransom looked at her with a sad smile, pressing a quick kiss to her lips. "It'll get better, I promise. I'm not going to stop taking care of you."

"I'd like that very much," she replied shyly and he grinned. It was true, Ransom had truly taken care of her well. Breakfast, lunch and dinner in bed everyday for 2 weeks, he worked in their room and they had cuddled more in the two weeks than they had in their entire relationship. Y/N was super happy with their arrangement.

Of course, sometimes Ransom would be too busy, leaving her alone in the room while he worked downstairs or had a meeting with someone. But then he'd make it up to her by offering more snuggles and kisses. "My best girl," he murmured, placing the omelette he was making on a plate. He then carried the plate to the dining room, leaving her on the kitchen counter.

He returned just as fast, gathering her in his arms and pressing a kiss to her temple as he carried her to the dining table as well. "You're strong," she teased and he huffed. "I better be, or all that working out will be for nothing." She laughed and he placed her down on a chair. "Eat well, I'll be back." With another kiss dropped to her head, he went back to the kitchen area.

Y/N wondered how she became so lucky to have him as her fiancé. Yeah, sure, Ransom wasn't a very nice person in general but to her, he was the best. The man who once called his aunt unsavory things punched someone in the face when they had the audacity to call her the same things. "You better watch your fucking mouth or I'm gonna break all your teeth."

It hadn't affected her much anyway but seeing Ransom's reaction had sent a pleasant tingle down her spine. He was ready to do anything for her. And she had to admit, lately, he was being very soft. She had noticed the changes in him around a year ago; he'd become… domestic, almost. It was fun to see him like that.

His family, well, they were less than pleased when Ransom had first introduced her to them. They thought she wasn't good enough for him and had even tried to break them down. But that had only made them stronger. Ransom was in love with her and nothing his family said was going to change that. "Y/N?"

She snapped out of her thoughts and blinked at Ransom. "Yeah?" He laughed and sat in front of her with his own plate of food. "You were lost in thoughts; the food's getting cold, honey." She cursed softly and laughed along, finally finishing her food.

How had she gotten so lucky?

---

A/N: Thanks for reading! Show some love, likes and reblogs will be appreciated <3

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[bloodycassian]

COLD NIGHTS - Cassian x Azriel x Reader - Prompt: 

hi i love your work so much!!! I was thinking a cassian x azriel x reader (i just love them sm, why have one when you can have two ) where the reader is sister of a high lord maybe day or winter court, and reader goes missing (kinda angsty) and her brother (a high lord) panics and goes to the night court for help (bc if her two bat boys can’t find her who will)  and az and cassian go full on panic mode and search for the reader, i was also thinking a fluffy cute ending where reader is just cuddling with azriel and cassian while her wounds heal take as much time as you need to write this, don’t pressure yourself. Take care lovely

Kallis would never forget the screams. The terror and panic that rushed through him when he realised that you were gone.  He sent half the city to search for you. He called upon Helion to inspect the magic. He was frantic in finding you. But it was like you had just disappeared out of nowhere. No sign of struggle, not a drop of blood spilled. The offender was sloppy in their ways, but their magic was strong. Helion could sense it.  They had a deathwish from Kallis himself if he ever found them. +  The first thing you saw were your cracked and bloody hands. They were split open from the dry cold wind. Sea air drifted into the cave. The cold brutal howling outside mixed with the roar of waves breaking confirmed your nightmares. Cape Tragedy. 

The islands off the coast of winter were known for their unforgiving nature to ships. Hence their name, Cape Tragedy. Also known as the Tragic coast, no stories were ever heard of any survivors of those crashes. If they had managed to survive the churning water, then the false salvation of the islands would kill them. It happened often enough that there were lighthouses set atop many of the bigger islands for ships to avoid on stormy days.

You coughed from the dry air, earning a pair of yellow eyes to dart to you. One of the three lesser fae males noticed you were awake and clapped. "She wakes! We've been waiting for you, sweetheart." His green skin was pale in the overcast light streaming in from the mouth of the cave. Snow Bear pelts lay all around. A disgrace in your culture. No citizen of Winter court would do such a thing. You looked to the walls to find weapons, and strange markings along the stone. Sailors from far away lands. 

Not even sailors. Pirates. A chill ran through you.  

"We're going to get your weight in gold, pretty one." The scaled male curled a piece of your hair behind you ear. Your stomach turned, and you tried to scoot away. "My brother will kill you first. And he'll take a long time doing it." You promised, trying to make your voice sound strong. Terror had you by it's grip though, and it was hard to do anything other than panic

. "Your brother? The pretty one that shears the Elk?" The green one asked. You laughed, and then were hissing in pain when the scaled male yanked on your hair. "What's so funny?" 

"You think my brother is an elk herder?" You spat "You must be dumber than you look." The males glanced between each other, then to the one who hadn't said anything yet.

"Who ye think you are then?" The male holding your hair stammered, trying to keep his panic under wraps. 

"Kallis' sister." You said with deadly calm. "And the high lord does not negotiate." 

"If you're so noble why you got such a mouth on ye?" The third male finally spoke.

They laughed.

"Maybe we will see just how much of a mouth-" He started again. He didnt have a chance to finish his disgusting words. You kicked, bending an ice spear straight up from the rocky ice floor and through the third male's body. Then the beating from the other two came. 

They bound your wrists and ankles in rope and tar. Their hands shook when they did it. It gave you a small bit of satisfaction. The potion they gave you to knock you out was just barely strong enough. You fought it as best you could, but it won. You could only hear the faint sounds of arguing then a crash of glass, then the cold winds whipping around you. And when you woke, your body ached.  The cold bit into your limbs. Your fingers were pale. Far too pale to be healthy. You knew frostbite when you saw it. Your body refused to move under your own power. Your blood was frozen to the icy ground. They had used a potion and transported you to a peninsula, and you could only faintly hear the ocean below. You could feel the potion wearing off, but you knew you weren't healing. Not yet. You reached down into your own mind, picking up the fading tendrils of power. Of your bond to the two you knew could save you. And you pulled as hard as you could manage.  --- "Fuck." The roaring thought shook Cassian awake. Bleary eyed, he glanced about the room as if there was someone actually shouting at him.  Then he felt it. The weak tug that had been silent for so long. And he knew it was nothing good. Frenzied, he met Azriel at the dining area. Where they spent the rest of the night planning, deducing a probable reason for you to be calling so weakly. They sent their worries to Rhys, but they were shooed away. "I'm researching. Meet me in the library at dawn." The two males tried to comfort each other. But the worry pulsating through the bond was too much to focus on. So they waited. Kallis appeared that morning. He spat his story and begged for help, practically in tears as he spoke to the three Illyrians. Cassian and Az knew something was wrong the moment you were attacked. Court laws forbade them interfering on Winter Court territory though.  As soon as the approval was given, the brothers winnowed to the border of Winter and started flying. + You were coming to terms that you would die in the cold. You had imagined death differently. Battle was the primary way you thought you'd die. Or at the end of a High Lord's magic for being too much of an advisor. Smiling at the memory of putting Tamlin in his place, you gave another tug down the bonds to your mates. And like a snap, they both tugged back. Almost in unison. It was hard to tell. You closed your eyes, listening to the soft waves below. They lulled you into a cold sleep yet again.  + Despite the cold, the Illyrians flew as fast as they could. They could sense your light fading, and chased it for mile after mile. Their wings cut through the harsh winter winds, fueled by rage and desperation. Then they spotted the dark figure frozen to the snow below. Cassian landed first, a few feet away. The ice cracked beneath him. "Get us out of here." He growled to Azriel.  "We need to make sure she's okay before we move."  Cassian growled, but didn't protest. Azriel understood. He felt the anguish and frustration through the shared bond. Az's hands pressed gently to your neck, checking your pulse. He swore. "Baby, we need you to wake up for us. We're here. We got you." Cassian put a hand to your cheek and fought back the tears that threatened.  You groaned in response. They both sighed in relief, their breath making clouds in front of them. "I'm stuck..." You managed through your stiff jaw.  Cassian stroked a thumb over your cheek. "Stuck? Honey you're-"  "Cas..." Azriel nodded to your side, to the ice that crept its way up your damp clothes. Azriel could have taken a very very long time torturing the beasts that did this to his mate. The rage coiled in his gut at the sight of your injuries. The only reason you hadn't bled out was the blood and water mix turning your wounds to ice.  Cassian pulled at the ice web that encapsulated you. Under the heat of his rage it broke, and broke and broke. Azriel placed small patches of his shield over your frostbitten fingers. "We're gonna get you out of here. Just stay still." Azriel smoothed back your hair, and darkness swirled over you. The change from the harsh overcast light of Winter court to the soft sun of Night court was jarring.  Madja put her hands on you and you were asleep in an instant. Her warm hands were a blessing from the Mother.  +  "She's lucky she has that Winter blood in her or she'd be dead." Madja wiped her hands off and handed both the Illyrians a small vial. "That is the scrap from a poisoned sword that broke off in her shoulder. I got all the pieces out, but the poison lingers. It may heal slowly, but it should get better."  Anguish burned both of their stomachs. Azriel's throat tightened and he looked away, but gripped the vial tightly. Cassian stared at it, his eyes murderous. Madja left without another word. "She was almost killed. And we couldn't do anything." Cassians' voice was low, with violence dripping from it. "We need her here. In Velaris where we can... watch her." He didn't know what he was saying, but the instinct to protect was overriding every other logical thought he had. Anger burned and burned in his stomach, swallowing him with rage. He could feel Az mirroring the same feeling, but with a cold deadliness that begged to simmer out of him.  "You know she wont go for that. She loves her home too much. Her brother." Azriel whispered back. "We're her mates. She should be with us." Cassian was looking for a fight. All the tension and anger of the day had to be worked out. Azriel felt it too. His shadows ran anxiously through the room.

The wind outside howled. It shifted the dark clouds that covered the moon. It seemed to be a cold day in all of Prythian. A cold day in your mates hearts to the pirates that had taken you. They spoke their rage mind to mind, imagining the ways to torture the bastards. 

How to find them would be the first priority. Azriel kept circling back to that part. + The healer cleared his throat at the door. "She's asking for you." He nodded to Rhys' brothers. They left Rhys behind in unison, walking in perfect step with each other. Their minds hummed together over that bond they shared with you. "Protect protect protect." They both seemed to demand.  Azriel knocked softly, his heart flipping when he heard your voice again. "Get in here." You demanded, giving them a broad smile when they practically shoved each other out of the way. 

"Come keep me warm." You weakly folded the blanket back, exposing some of the bruising on your skin. 

They complied with enthusiasm. Azriel's hands were cold at first, but they got better when he reached around you to hold Cassian closer. They worked in tandem to keep you covered, making sure that you weren't too crowded or too warm. Azriel summoned his cool shadows when you got too warm and had to kick the blankets off. Cassian's warm breath would keep you warm when they became too much. You traced Azriel's cheekbones, the sharp edge of his jaw while falling alseep. Cassian's muscled forearms hugging you from behind were like a heavy pillow. 

"Rest now, we can have more fun later." Az winked, making your stomach flutter. Cassian groaned and pulled you further to his lap. You tried not to think of the hardness that pressed to you now.  "Goodnight." The shadowsinger kissed your forehead and like a light, you were out. Finally resting peacefully wrapped between your two mates and their warm bond you all shared. 

#acotar fic #azriel x reader #cassian x reader