#Drools rules management

[inextures]

Drools Rule Management System with Spring Boot

What is Drools?

Drools is an open-source Business Rules Management Software (BRMS) written in Java that provides users with a variety of features like Business Rule Engine, Web authoring, Rules Management Application, and runtime support for Decision Model and Notation models.

It provides a rule engine which processes facts and produces output as a result of rules and facts processing. Centralization of business logic makes it possible to introduce changes fast and cheap.

Drools was released under Apache License 2.0 and it is compatible with any JVM and available in Maven Central Repository also.

It also bridges the gap between the Business and Technical teams by providing a facility for writing the rules in a format which is easy to understand.

The Drools tool helps you to separate and reason over logic and data found in business processes.

Drools are split into two parts:

Authoring – It involves the development of rules files.

Runtime – It involves the creation of working memory and handling the activation.

What is Rule?

Rules are parts of knowledge often expressed as, “When specific conditions occur, then do some tasks.”

The most crucial part of a rule is it’s when part. Once when part is satisfied, then the part is triggered.

Syntax:

When <Condition is true> Then <Take desired Action>

Features of Drool

Here are important features of Drool:

Helps you to separate application from dynamic logic

Declarative Programming

Centralization of Knowledge

Speed and Scalability

Separate logic from application

Understandable rules

Drools Rule Engine

Drools Rule Engine is a rule-based approach to implement an Expert system in the Drools software. The Rule engine provides Expert systems which are knowledge-based systems that help you to make decisions like what to do and how to do it. It gathers knowledge into a knowledge base that can be used for reasoning.

Why use Drools Rule Engine?

Here, are prime reasons for using Drools rules engine:

Rules are easy to understand for developers and business analysts.

Rules are easily maintainable.

Rule Engine uses a Rete algorithm which states that the performance of the engine never depends on the number of rules.

Rules can be modified and deployed without bringing down the application.

Externalizes the business logic from the comparatively static codebase.

Rules are developed in less complicated formats so the business analyst can easily read and verify a group of rules.

Rules allow you to create a warehouse of knowledge which is executable in form.

Disadvantages of Rules Engine

Here, are drawbacks/ cons of using rules engine:

Lots of learning effort requires by developers to know this method of programming

Rule engine is not a secure method to troubleshoot issues.

Needs to understand the working of rule engine to consumes more memory

There are a wide set of rules for a complex branching.

Spring Boot Drools Rule Engine Example

The Drools is an open-source business rule management system that can be integrated easily with the spring boot application.

The KIE project supports the integration of the drools with other technologies like the spring boot framework.

Create a spring boot application

Create a spring boot application with the required dependencies. Add the spring boot starter web dependency. Also, include drools dependencies to the spring boot application’s pom XML configuration file.

Configure the drools application

Create a configuration java class with the name DroolsConfig under config package.  

Add the below configuration to the java class.

DroolsConfig.java

Add the model class

Create a model class with the name Order and define the below fields.

We receive this class as a request object to the rule engine and, we send these fields as the input to defined rules to set appropriate discount amount for the given customer order.

Order.java

Define the drools rules

Create the drools rules inside a file with the name customer-discount.drl. Add the file under the directory /src/main/resources/rules.

Customer-discount.drl

We need to import the models that are being used in the DRL file.

The DRL file can contain one or multiple rules. We can use the mvel syntax to specify the rules. Also, each rule can be described with a description using the rule keyword.

We can use when-then syntax to define the conditions for a rule.

Based on the input values of the Order request, we are adding discount to the result. If none of the defined rule is applied, then the default value will be returned as a discount.

Add the service layer

Create a service java class with the name OrderService , and add the below content.

OrderService.java

We are injecting the KieContainer instance and creating a KieSession instance.

To pass the request object to the DRL file, we can use the insert() method.

Then we fire all the rules by calling the fireAllRules() method. and finally terminate the session by calling the dispose() method of the KieSession.

Testing the application

Run the spring boot application and access the REST API endpoint by sending the customer order request JSON.

For the VISA card type with  price > 5000, we should get discount as 14 according to our defined rules.

Now, try with the different values as shown below.

For the VISA card type with  price > 10000, we should get discount as 10 according to our defined rules.

Conclusion

In this article, we learned about drools rule system and how to create the drools rule engine using the spring boot framework.

We also learned how we can use the DRL files to define the business rules.

Originally published by: https://www.inexture.com/spring-boot-with-drools/

[ttsukiimi]

───〃★ WE F⍣CK OFF & ON, OFF & ON .ᐟ

〃★ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 ⎯ As the campus’s well known f⍣ckboy, Satoru Gojo wasn’t known to stick around for more than one night in one bed. Well, that unspoken rule just didn’t apply when the bed was yours.

〃★ ��𝐚𝐠𝐬 ⎯ gojo x fem!reader, uni au, smut (mdni), protected s⍣x, f⍣ckboy!gojo, hair pulling, p⍣ssywhipped!gojo, mentions of alc⍣hol & bein’ drunk, dirty talk, slight dumbification.

〃★ 𝐚/𝐧 ⎯ Thank you so freaking much for 1.5K!!! 🥹

Absolutely unbearable.

If there was any way to describe the campus fuckboy, it’d be that.

He was known—infamous for his unique way of fucking women and somehow leaving them attached, yearning for him once more after just one night, while he only left unscathed with his balls empty.

Satoru Gojo was insatiable. And you hated him.

You failed to see what everyone saw in him—he was a total idiot for fucks sake! Granted, he had a pretty face and could be quite charming, and you really couldn’t say for yourself if he was that good in bed, but good things about him paled in comparison to his horrid personality. He knew how attractive he was, and used that any chance he got.

How did he manage to talk his way into and out of anything? You simply didn’t know. But you hated him.

That was…until you yourself finally had a taste of Satoru Gojo.

Drunk at a party and so utterly wasted, you’d failed to acknowledge who was hitting on you, who you got into the taxi with to drive back to who knows where. His hands all over you—so rough yet inviting, even after the alcohol in your system had gone you still found yourself pulled into a trance.

A trance that seemingly pushed you to his bed and under him. Seemingly had you moaning his name all night and for more to come.

And seemingly, now, opening the door to your apartment so he could come in. So he could come in and fuck you like he’s been doing for the past months. Well, that’s just what he thought would happen anyway.

“Satoru,” you huffed, watching as the tall freak plopped himself onto your couch, momentarily jerking his head back before he responded with a hum.

“Can you stop acting like a fool and try not to break anything for once?” You chastised, pointing to a hand of his already playing with the flowers in your prized vase—he hadn’t given you those and had no right to taint them.

The white haired man groaned, rolling his eyes and following you down the narrow hallway to your bedroom. Your steps halted at the doorway and so did his, a low snicker leaving his lips as his hands slid to your waist.

“So,” he sighed in your ear, brushing his soft lips past the skin of your neck, big hands squeezing the flesh of your ass as he snaked them down. “Y’just gonna keep on being grumpy or you gonna let me fuck?”

“Satoru,” you exasperated for what seemed like the umpteenth time, though you didn’t dare take his hands off your body, already surrendering to the feeling. “Just because we’ve been fucking doesn’t mean that I only invite you here because of that.”

You turned around to face him. “We have a project to do, remember?”

“Yeah, yeah. We’ll start after I start.”

And what was Satoru’s definition of that?

It was pushing your head further down into your pillows as he absolutely ravished your cunt, simultaneously holding both your hands back with just one of his.

His thrusts were deep and calculated—to the point where it felt like he knew where every pleasurable spot inside you was. Perhaps he did.

“Dick’s got you all quiet now, hm?” he smirks, sliding his free hand up your back and to your head, pulling your hair back as he speaks. By then you were a drooling mess and as much as you’d hate to admit it—you’re practically dumb on his cock, moaning incoherent little babbles of his name and how big he feels.

Satoru grins behind you, smug because he’s got you, the most prim and proper girl on campus choking on her own saliva. It all felt so surreal, you felt surreal—your soft hips, the succulent ripple of your ass as his hips connected to it, your moans—fuck everything you did was driving him crazy. Even though it was supposed to be the other way around.

He was the one who was supposed to be ingrained in your brain—but here he was, inches deep inside your wet, reeling pussy after he swore the last time he was in your apartment would be the last.

But there’s always a reoccurring cycle with you. He just can’t stop.

“Hah—mph—slow down, S’toru!” you mewl, fat tears swelling in your waterline, your ears perking up at the rhythmic plap! plap! plap! of your sweaty bodies colliding. “If ‘m too loud my neighbors might hear,”

“Yeah? Let them hear how good I’m makin’ you feel then,” he breathes, shallow and unsteady, his toned chest moving in tandem with his inhales. The deep tremble of his voice seems to move throughout your body, vibrating through you in such a maddening way that you’re almost cumming from the feeling alone.

What was even more provoking was the way he pulsed against your gummy walls, thumping and pulsing inside you loud enough that it seemed you could hear it.

And—god was Satoru close, so close he could feel the static of his high zap though his fingers. He groaned, head thrown back in bliss as he swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he did so deliciously.

Your head was spinning from the mind-dizzying pleasure, eyes rolling back in what Satoru can only admit is the most remarkable expression he’s gotten out of anyone he’s fucked.

His hair was sticking to his forehead now, sweaty from how fast he was working to thrust into you at his abnormal pace. “Can I—“

“No.”

A defeated sigh and a pained grunt as he pulled out just as he was about to teeter off the edge of pleasure, taking himself in his hands and finishing the job. Satoru jerked himself as he watched you shake and convulse in euphoria, your body unwinding as you let your limbs go limp.

Cum seeped from your pussy, dripping down to your clit and sheets—and that sight was all he needed before his hot seed was spurting all over your back, the sensation causing a broken cry to leave your lips.

“Fuck,” Satoru mouthed, breathing hard as he gave your ass little smacks of approval. “That was—shit—so good.”

You nodded, head turning to the side as you watched him take off his cum-filled condom, and dump it in the trash. Satoru plopped back on your bed once he was done.

A smirk graced his lips and you rolled your eyes in annoyance, knowing nothing good could come out of that look.

“When do you think we could do it raw, hm?”

“When you get tested for every type of STD.”

[fushiguho]

Literally nobody asked for this but what about Toji folding you into a mean mating press so he can fuck you full of cum? Think about it…

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･

You’re not even sure how it got to this point—your plush thighs pressed to your chest, poor, drooling pussy stretched obscenely wide, and your pretty lips gaped in incredulity—all while Toji is unforgivingly pile driving into your sloppy hole over, and over, and over again, fucking you with his entire being, a fat thumb pressed to your ravaged clit. The deranged man has you in a fucking mating press.

“Talk to me, doll,” he’s muttering between the relentless batter of his hips, leaning down to kiss the corner of your wet, parted lips, his ears perking curiously at your choked sobs of rapture, “use your fuckin’ words n’ tell me you love my cock,” he’s so close, the tip of his large nose brushing yours, warm breath fanning your lips, “say it.”

“Nngh—love it… I love it—hah… love it s’muchhh!” Your eyes are crossing while you babble incoherently, sweet tongue lolling out as he fucks you into a stupid, drooling mess. “Love your c-cock s’much, Toji baby… always fuck me so good… s’fuckin’ good!” You’re slurring over yourself, only hoping that he’ll make sense of your broken jargon.

The dopey, languid grin that slowly mars his scarred lips is nothing short of sinful. Time and time again, he always manages to get you like this—so slutty, so mindless, so fucking stupid for cock, yet somehow, he thinks you look prettiest this way. Just like this. In fact, he wouldn’t have it any other way—have you any other way.

“Heh, yeaaah? You loveee takin’ all my fuckin’ cock, don’t you, baby?” His head is cocking to the right in query, the merciless thrust of his hips steadily bullying his fat cock deeper and deeper, the leaking, mushroom tip kissing your battered cervix. “Bet you’d die without it, huh? Can’t live without being fucked so deep like this every fucking day can you, baby?” He doesn’t miss the way you shake your head dumbly, lust-stricken eyes threatening to roll to the back of your head. A gruff, humorous chuckle slips past his lips as he admires your drunken mien. God, you’re such a pretty, fucked-out mess for him. “Always get so stupid for me, look at youuu… such a pretty, obedient girl for that cock. You’ll do anything I say, won’t you, doll?”

You nod, of course. There isn’t a line you wouldn’t cross for this man, a rule you wouldn’t break, a boundary you wouldn’t bend, because if there’s any word to sum you up faultlessly, it’s obedient. Yet, your obedience strays far beyond simple compliance and abidance. Instead, you’re somewhere else—somewhere so far gone, so depraved, that you’re positive you’re only a shell of your former self. Now, you’re something of Toji’s creation, his perfect, handcrafted slut whose only purpose is to take, and take, and take. But is there anything more fulfilling than being his good girl? More consummate than feeling like you belong? Like you’re good enough to be his? At what point does it become obsession? Does it even matter?

“Fuuuck, open that pretty mouth fa’me.” He demands, creeping a large, calloused hand allll the way up, up, up your tummy, past your kiss-bitten breasts, and toward your face to roughly squish your flushed cheeks, rudely forcing your mouth open. “Wider, doll… say ahhh.” Not a second thought passes as you nearly unhinge your jaw for him, lolling out your tongue, waiting patiently for whatever he’s willing to give.

Toji begins gathering saliva in his mouth before leaning closer, puckering his scarred lips, and spitting onto the plush center of your tongue. Two, thick digits are sliding into your mouth, all the way down the slick muscle, forcing his saliva impossibly deeper. The cruel, bewitching grin that plays his wet lips as you gag around his fingers has your poor cunt weeping in arousal, drooling down the girth of his cock.

He spits into your mouth once more for good measure before leaning down to catch your lips in a sloppy, haphazard kiss. You hardly register the warm, eager tongue that bullies its way into your mouth, licking and tasting you from the source. You’re beyond delirious as you feverishly kiss him back, whining so sultrily as a sinful stream of his saliva dribbles from the corners of your swollen lips and down your cheeks, staining your pretty face.

You can’t do anything but take him, all of him—his tongue, his cock, his fingers, his spit, and soon, his cum. After all, it’s what you do best—what you were meant to do all along. That’s why Toji fucks you the way he does—because he knows it’s the only way you’ll ever be satisfied. A tender kiss is never enough, nor is the simple act of making love. You yearn for more—to be fucked, to be destroyed and ruined and defiled. What better man to do it than Toji Fushiguro?

“Hold your legs up f’me,” two, rough hands are searching for yours, hooking them behind the back of your knees, “yeaaah that’s a good girl for daddy, hold ‘em up just like that, baby, fuuuuck… want you to feel allll of me—all of my cock inside you. Gonna cum so deep in that pretty pussy, doll. You want that? Will that satisfy your needy little cunt?” A prolonged hiss of pleasure drags from his gritted teeth as he reels his hips back slowly, “Gonna fuck you so full of my cum… you want a baby? Want me to get you fuckin’ pregnant?” He babbles mindlessly while harshly pummeling his heavy hips forward in staccato, fucking himself impossibly deeper, his full, swollen balls repeatedly striking the fat of your ass.

“Mhmm—yes! I need it, I need it! Fuck fuck fuck, please, Toji baby… need your cum,” your head rolls from side to side while you pant like a bitch in heat, arms growing fatigued as you stretch yourself so wide for him and only him, “pleaseee cum inside, wanna be a mommy… wan’ your babies!” Your delirious eyes search for his, eyebrows furrowing in nothing but your overstimulated pleasure.

A sinful, guttural groan drags from the depths of his chest at your filthy words of encouragement, cock twitching so lewdly against your sticky, beckoning walls, wordlessly threatening to fill you up. “Yeah? Will that make my nasty girl happy?” You can only nod meekly as you hug your knees to your chest, sweet mouth gaped in pleasure while you moan so prettily for him, waiting like a patient, obedient slut for his cum. “F— fuuuck, I’m gonna cum s’muchhh n’ yer gonna take it all, you hear me?” He’s stifling an onslaught of gutteral moans that threaten to spill from his parted lips, “Mhmmm—fuck, you gonna take it all? You gonna take all of my cum like a good fuckin’ girl, hm? Like my good lil’ slut?” Toji huffs out ragged breaths between his feral groans of rapture, heavy thrusts growing haphazard and sloppy as he pummels toward his orgasm.

A helpless, “Please…” is all you can manage—a weak, pathetic plead but then, you feel it.

An incoherent, slew of profanities tumble past Toji’s lips as he fucks several, viscous gushes of cum inside of you. His usual timbre voice hoarse and ragged, breaking so sinfully as he stuffs you full, yet still, his bucking hips never falter. Obscene rivulets of his seed drip from your overfilled cunt, pooling beneath your bodies in a messy little puddle. Eventually, he wills himself away, slipping out of your poor cunt, but only to swipe two, deft digits along his stray seed on the sheets, gathering his release to fuck it back inside of you, ensuring none of it goes to waste.

“Look… you’re so full of me, doll,” he drawls in a low, tantalizing hum, pulling his wet fingers out of you to show you proof—his thick fingers dripping in his own cum, “you gonna clean me up?” He grins wildly, flashing his cuspids at you.

Duh.

[lufyuu]

,,Discipline''

Older military instructor x younger brat male reader

Tw/s: brat taming, dubcon, face fucking, age gap (22&38), sadism, hair grabbing/pulling, punishing themes, light degration and praise.

The room is almost dead quiet if not for the lecture a tall man is giving. Air and people alike both tense. Nobody dares to make a wrong move nor play around. Though, that 'nobody' doesn't include a certain young man who has just barely graduated from college not long ago. Some describe him as a very shameless and lazy man, while others just say he's enjoying life. He'd always be either on his phone or napping all throughout his classes. It seems like it's all he can ever do, even at home. Instead of finding a decent job and finding love like his friends, he only stayed home being a bum living in his parents' basement. This 'routine' continued until he got the sudden news of being enlisted in the military all thanks to his mom, who by this point, had almost given up on her son if not for the neighbors giving advice. They had said their son used to be like hers until they forcefully pushed him into the military. Ever since then, he's been nothing but responsible.

The young man in question is [Name] [L.Name]. The moment you heard you'd go into the military, you got pissed at your mom and locked the door to your bedroom-like basement for a few days. Refusing to eat and talk. This didn't do much other than starve you. The military was unavoidable by this point so, you had no other choice but to depart from home in just a few weeks time.

Today's your second day in the military. Well, you're at the very back of a huge crowd of men in uniforms. They had given everyone a pair of uniform to wear today but honestly, you just threw it on randomly, not even caring if some buttons were left unbuttoned. Somehow, you'd sneaked your phone in. Providing some entertainment as an old man, whom you don't remember the name of, explains the rules and laying out the schedule for your daily life there. You couldn't give less of a fuck. None of this matters anyways, you're going to be out in like what? A few weeks after the training's over. Maybe you'd even get out faster if you show your signature pout to your mom like always.

Scrolling on Twitter, you watch some sex videos without clicking on the video itself. You're a whole creep, but why dwell on it? You've given up on yourself years ago. This doesn't matter all that much. You could even feel yourself getting hard at the sight. You wish you hear them enjoying a good fucking right now. Unfortunately for you and your almost hardened dick, that wouldn't be possible. Even though you sneaked in a phone, you hadn't managed to sneak in a pair of headsets. How unlucky. Your eyes focus on the video, never moving from it even when the man's loud voice pierce through your ears. At the very least, you do know that he's an ex soldier who has fought in one of the many wars that has happened in the past decade. Not that you'd be able to do much with that information. Apparently he came here just to be a substitute as the actual instructor had gotten a serious illness and has a high chance of staying in the hospital for at least a few months, causing him to not be able to come and teach. You'd rather he shut the fuck up though. His loud voice is ruining your mood watching porn. "Jesus can he just shut up", you mumble to yourself, maybe one or two near you heard but not like they'd snitch.

Even in a serious situation, you manage to get hard. Although you're shameless, you're not shameless enough to masturbate infront of all these people. That'd be ridiculous. So, you try to hold yourself back. '10 more minutes...you can hold it' you think to yourself.

You scroll to a particularly sexually arousing video. It shows a man being facefucked roughly. Drool rolling down his chin as he's forced to take it all in, not being able to catch his breath. You can even feel yourself getting harder and harder by the second. You imagine yourself as the one on the receiving end. God how'd amazing it would be to have another man's cock down your throat like that, fucking it and putting you in your place. Just the thought of it is enough to make you twitch.

You hover your finger over the video and just as you're about to scroll. Thump! "I'm so sorry—", the man next to you who had just bumped your dominant hand on accident is silenced by the very loud sound of moaning and slurping coming from your device. You instantly freeze. Not daring or even able to move to close the video. All eyes are now on you as you're the source of the very out of place noises. Heck, you somehow notice the instructor stopping dead in the middle of his lecture just to stare at you through the crowd. Your eyes are still wide as you try your best to salvage what's left or your ego by closing the app entirely. Almost dropping it in the process. "Fuck..", you let out after holding in your words for a few seconds. You're so done for. With that, people begin to whisper just beside you as you can do nothing about it. The room gets noisier and noisier by the second until eventually...

"Silence."a manly and fierce voice commands. It sets the whole mood of the room as everyone turns to face the man in front of them, tense. You could do nothing but follow their move. "Today's lesson is over. Everyone may leave in an orderly fashion.", his tone leaves no room for complaints as everyone leaves quietly, shoulders tense. With you being last in line, he stops you before you even get the chance to make it halfway to the exit. "Not you, young man.", even though your brain tells you to leave, every single part of your body stops, not being able to get out of the dangerous situation. You only stood still as he went over to close the door. When he turns back, you can see his badge and finally identify him as Han Minho. Almost everything comes back to you. He's the soldier who played a crucial part in stopping the war 20 years ago. Here he is now, in the flesh, looking at you with almost a glare.

"You do know why I'm holding you back, don't you?", it's a question yet his tone doesn't seem like one. It's more of getting you to admit your guilt. Though, there's no way you'd admit something like that. "No", you try to avoid his gaze by looking elsewhere and distracting yourself with the walls and floors. He can only sigh at your refusal to admit what you'd done. As he reaches over to his desk to grab something, you take the opportunity to sprint to the door—anndd you're pinned to it. So much for getting out the door, you're not trapped between the door and Minho. You shouldn't have underestimated his strength and agility even for a second as that caused this. "And where do you think you're going? I don't remember letting you off", he hovers over you, you practically have to tilt your head up a bit just to be face to face with the man.

The room remains dead silent for another 10 seconds until Minho finally breaks it. "Give me your phone", he demands, holding his hand out to take it away from you. "That's my property, why should I give it to you?", you try to push him off with your phone still in your hands. He snatches it away and even when you try to grab it back, he has enough ability to keep you away. Seeing as you have a password set, he decides to grab your dominant hand and use your finger to unlock the phone. You tried resisting but of course his strength is outmatched. He immediately goes to your twitter page, finally finding the source of the disturbance in his lecture.

"...so. This, is what you've been up to during my lecture.", he stares at the video, hardly impressed. He looks back at you, "you got turned on by this?", he clealy spots your arousal under those uniform pants. He's merely pointing it out. You shake your head no once more, can't he just let you go already..."Darling, even I have a bigger one", he seems to be pointing out the fact that his dick size is bigger compared to the guy getting sucked off in the video. You scoff, the dick in the video's at least 5-6 inches, what is he even on. "Alright old man, I'm just going to head out with my phone", you try to take the phone out of his hand as he holds it near you uet to no avail. His grip doesn't waver as you try to pry the phone out of his hand. "I don't recall asking you to head back?", his eyes are oh so intimidating as he stares into yours. In a split second, he manages to pull you infront of the desk. "Get on your knees", he lets a chilling smile spread on his face. A smile that sends shivers down your spine, your knees getting weaker by the second. You still refuse and try to put on a brave face which only frustrates Minho more. "Unless you want me to spread this? I can assure you, anything that comes out of my mouth will be spreading like wildfire.", he shakes your phone a bit. He isn't wrong nor exaggerating. Anything coming out of his mouth is bound to reach the ears of your parents and maybe even close friends. You can't let that happen!

Reluctantly, you get on your knees infront of him. You look up at his tall figure, wondering what he wants or even gain from this. His hands reach over to his zipper as he slowly and teasingly zip it down. "W-wait!", you try to stop his hands by overlapping them with yours. He waits for you to continue your sentence yet you cant find the words to express what you want. "Why are you hesitating? Isn't this what you want? You're already hard", he points out your hard-on, straining against your pants. You can't respond to it as it is true you're hard and needy. With a simple yank, your hands fall back on the ground as he finishes undoing his pants. He slips his hard and long dick out. It's very close to your face, hell, it even almost slapped you. After a few seconds, you could tell his dick is definitely bigger than the one you had just seen a couple minutes ago. "What? Cat got your tongue?", he has a smug expression on his face due to how quiet you became. "Why don't you take care of my cock if you have nothing else to do?", he raises his eyebrows as his eyes lower into an intimidating gaze. "And don't use any teeth", rather than a request, it felt more like a threat. You put your hands around his cock and start to slowly lick the head ever so slightly. Not having prior experience in sucking nor licking cock, you do such a bad job at it that it gets a yawn from the man whose hard cock you're tending to. "Is that the best you can do? At least try putting half of it in your mouth", you try your best to fit half of his cock in but of course it's a bit hard. When it is in, you begin to suck and lick his cock. Trying to ignore the fact you feel like you're about to choke if you keep it in any longer.

"That's better, good boy", he praises and calls you a pet name. He takes out your phone and begins to record you sucking his cock. For a few seconds, you don't notice ad you're too focused on sucking his dick. When you do notice, you try to back off and remove his cock from your mouth. This ends up with him grabbing your hair and pulling you back, taking his whole cock in your mouth, the tip of your nose touching his happy trail. Your face contort in a mixture of gagging and somewhat pain. You so desperately want to get his dick out of your mouth but he keeps your head firmly there. Not moving at all for maybe 5 seconds. Even when he does let you move, it's just him guiding you back and forth. Your hair is super messy now due to him gripping it so hard, thrusting his hips into you, making you take it in your throat. "You're doing such a great job...ah...", he grunts and moans. The hand holding your phone is very still, making sure to get the best view of his dick going in and out your mouth.

You can even taste some of his precum in your mouth. Both of you can tell he's close to his climax. The way he thrusts faster and faster gives it all away. All you can do is hope that he cums faster. As his grunts and moans get louder, his hand almost loses grip on the phone. "Agh..ah..'m cumming..don't swallow,,agh yet!", cum starts to pour into your mouth, a lot of it. It almost overflows and due to your mouth being wide open, some of it drips on the ground in-between the two of you. You close your eyes as you can feel the warm liquid enter. When Minho pulls away, there was a sticky string that connected his cock to your mouth. He pants while you try your best to close your mouth without swallowing any. "Look at me", you look up at him as his fingers part your lips without using any force. It reveals your mouth full of his cum. Finishing the recording, he takes a picture of your face with his cum dripping out your mouth before telling you to "swallow."

He eventually returns your phone back to you after tidying himself up. "Clean up this mess you've made. I expect you to be on your best behavior next time." He walks past you towards the door. "If not, there will be more where that came from", he doesn't even look at you as he says those words. Only letting a little chuckle and walking away, the door closing as he does, leaving you all alone with cum all over the floor and your phone.

˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗

A couple of months later, you find yourself making more and more friends. They aren't your close friends in any way but it's nice having a handful of people to talk to as you go through the intensive training together. Ever since the incident, you find yourself avoiding the mistake you had made before. Fortunately, you manage to keep your phone on you rather than having it confiscated by Han Minho. Even though you never notice, Minho has always been paying more attention to you than others. Perhaps he's trying to catch you on your phone once more for another round. Regardless, whatever the reason is, you're oblivious to it.

Your routine stays the same. It's the same old routine for everyone there anyways. Get up at 5AM, get ready and have a bit of breakfast before the morning training. Have a few hours to yourself where everyone's free to do anything they would like. Then it's lunchtime before going back to training.

The cafeteria is busy due to everyone flocking to it in order to fill their empty stomachs. The sound of people chstting away, muttering and even whispering to one another, fills the whole room. You take a seat next to one of your buddies. "How'd you guys sleep?", you ask, trying to start a conversation before biting down on your sandwich. The whole incident behind you. "Eh, I've slept better nights", one answers that starts a chain reaction of people agreeing. You can see where they're coming from. The whole training's tiring not to mention boring. The table's silent for a moment until someone perks up. "Hey! I know what we should do!", he looks at everyone with anticipating eyes. Everyone, including you, look at him confusingly. "We should have a little fun before going to bed, that'll make us sleep better and not be bored", he recommends excitedly. You all looks at one another before nodding. "Sounds like an idea but...what should we do?", you tilt your head to which he replies with a smug expression.

The clock tick tocks as it points at 22:48. It's usually when people are already sleeping after a long day of training. But not you and your friends though. You're all wide awake sitting on the floor with a water bottle. It's just the beginning of the game your friend had suggested. It's a bit tense due to the fact everyone's sacred of being caught, especially if it's by the Han Minho. He's scarier than everyone in the training combined. Once he says something, everyone shuts up and listens or at the very least keep up the act of listening even is they aren't. "Let's whisper for now, what if he's out on patrol in the hallways..we'll be absolutely fucked", the man next to you, Tae, suggests. As he says this, he leans into the middle in order for everyone to hear and raising his right hand at the side of his mouth. Everyone nods in agreement as the game starts quietly and slowly.

"Joon, truth or dare?", Tae starts the game, pointing at the friend sitting across from the two of you. He pauses for a moment and proceeds to pick 'truth'. It's what anyone would pick, really. Tae doesn't hesitate to ask him a question. It seems as if he's been holding this in for a while. "Is it true that your dad's a close friend of Han Gyogwan-nim?", Joon shares the same energy as he immediately nods excitedly. "Yeah! And you guys wanna know something?", he gathers everyone while leaning into the circle. Everyone does the same as he gossips, "I heard he used to have a wife before she left him", some chuckle while others look in disbelief, "how come? He's honestly kinda...", another person in the group, Jaehyun, chimes in. Insinuating that their instructor's good-looking which isn't entirely false. "I'm not quite sure", Joon backs away from the gathering, "something about not being able to get it up", now everyone's snickering, someone as intimidating as him, not being able to get hard? What a joke. Well, it sounds like a joke to you anyway. If he isn't able to get it up, how the fuck was he stuffing your mouth with cock and cum just a few months back?

Moving on from the first question, everyone gets a bit more comfortable now that Joon's revealed a secret of their oh so intimidating 'boss.' Hell, they don't even try to be quiet anymore, some talking in their normal voice and some even outright laughing loudly. Thankfully for everyone in the room, Han Minho isn't around to hear their loud noises.

It's been a couple rounds since the first. Everyone knows to be as quiet as possible while still having fun. "Spin it!", you nudge a guy next to you. Tae bends to spin the bottle in the middle of the circle. It spins for a bit before stopping at you. "[Name]! Truth or dare", he turns to ask you to which you confidently reply with "dare of course", with a cheeky grin. They all begin to discuss on what to dare you to do. "Go commando until tomorrow", as Tae says that, they all begin to laugh. To you, it's nothing major. You've done that a couple times in the past anyways, it's quite comfortable.

1:20AM...

2:41AM...

3:00AM.

Remembering you all have to wake up at 5 and also the fact that everyone's tired as shit, you along with the others head to bed and close the very dim light source, leaving the room almost pitch dark. You're so comfortable that in just seconds of closing your eyes, you fall into a deep sleep.

Maybe too deep of a sleep due to the fact you don't wake up in time for training. Nobody came in to fetch any of you which is quite strange to say the least but none of you minded due to the fact you're all catching up on some good old sleep. Even when it's already 5:20, not a single soul in that room is awake. Some are snoring, some are quiet, some even have their blankets thrown onto the ground. You're alnost sprawled out on the mattress with drool escaping from your mouth.

The ever so dark room is then pierced by the door opening. A tall figure appears at the doorway. The sudden light wakes up a few, with them rubbing their eyes and yawning as if they aren't 20 minutes late. "Hm? What time is it", your friend asks, still yawning and adjusting his eyes to see who it is that has woken them up. "Get. Up.", his eyes meets the glaring ones belonging to Han Minho. Their instructor. This immediately wakes them up, checking the time and seeing it's way past when they're supposed to get up. Even when they're still sleepy, they fight the urge to go back to bed and instead pick themselves up, practically sprinting outside, past Minho. Most of them went out. All but one [Name] who is still sleeping soundly, probably dreaming of...dirty things. Turning the dim lights on, the man steps closer and closer to your still sleeping figure. Your peaceful face contrasts his dissapointed and frustrated one. He pulls off your blanket roughly. Due to the fact you're having a wet dream and how you're not wearing any underwear, your erection can be seen clearly by the older man.

Not long after, lustful noises coming from you can be heard. 'Even in your dreams, you're still a horny bastard.', is what Minho thinks of. Though, he can't deny that your beautiful noises have made him hard. He still thinks of that incident every single day. Hell, he even jerks off to the thought of it every night. Without someone to satisfy his needs, he resorts to you and the thought of you.

God all he wants to do right now is flip you over and fuck you senseless but he must keep his composure as best he can. You're asleep afterall. Using his index finger and thumb, he reaches over to pinch your cheek, hard. This wakes you up almost immediately, it really hurted! "Ow ow!", you push his hand away as you open your eyes. Sitting up, you rub your cheek as your eyes try to focus and see who it was that did this to you. "Han Gyogwan-nim!?", you yell outloud, shocked at the man's presence. He shuts his eyes in annoyance. "Be quiet, you're going to alert the others", you look at him in confusion, "do you want me to help with your little problem over there?", he vaguely points at your 'problem'. You look at the direction he's pointing at and realizes you're hard...but so is he.

He notices as you oogle at his clothed cock which is straining against his pants. "How about we help each other out?", he suggests, putting a knee on the soft mattress. Eventually, he's in between your legs, face just inches away from yours. Blush covers your whole face. You don't know what to do. What could you do..?

His body slightly brushing your already hardened cock makes you even more tense and aroused. He presses his lips onto yours.

You instinctively put your hands on his shoulders, wanting to push him away but at the same time, melting into the kiss. You stay there, conflicted as his hands trail closer and closer to your pants. The only piece of clothing protecting your bare ass from the rough man. Just as you're getting used to this..position, the door almost swings open. With all your strength, you catch Minho off guard and shove him into your blanket. Thankfully for the both of you, by the way the door is facing, the large lump in your blanket isn't too noticeable, you can brush it off as you just sitting up.

Joon stands in the doorway, making a loud noise as he calls out for you, "[Name]! Quick! Didn't Han Gyogwan-nim come here to wake you up too!? We're going to be dead by the time we get to the training grounds!", he is about to approach you when you stop him. "Please sta—! aGH."

From inside your blanket, you can feel a certain man's fingers reaching their way into your boxer-less pants. Reaching behind and fondling; gropping your ass as it searches for your hole. You gasp at the action. In just a few seconds, his finger is already plunging itself into your tight hole. "[Name]..? Are you okay? Sick?", Joon asks with a worried look but also confused. You put your hand up to your mouth, muffling out any unintentional sound that might come out of your mouth. "U-uh..ye-yes, I am..", you agree with him. He sighs, "I'll inform Han Gyogwan-nim, eat the medicine over by the cabinet, he might might not agree to let you off scot free the next time you miss training..", little does he know, that 'Gyogwan-nim' is currently 2 fingers deep in your hole, twisting and turning inside you to find your prostate. You can only sit there and take it as you should. You really wsnt to bury your face into the pillow right now in order to properly conceal your facial expressions from Joon but that's not possible at the moment. One wrong move and who knows what Minho might do.

"Do you have a fever?", he steps closer once more, this time, too close for comfort. Coincidentally, at this moment, Minho finds your prostate, making you jerk in pleasure, "aH..!", you shut your eyes, biting on the inner part of your lip while stopping Joon with your hand. Signaling a stop with it. "Are you sure you're okay...? You're really weird right now man", "p-please give me some time...", you can barely hold in the noises you so badly want and need to let out. Joon eventually walks away with a weirded out look. He'll get over it soon.

The door closes behind Joon and you can feel Minho's fingers getting faster and faster. In and out of your hole, trying to get you to cum. You throw your head back, closing your eyes and finally letting out those moans Minho's been wanting to hear for so long. Though, just as you're about to cum, Minho stops as if he knew you would. Your breath hitches and you look back to face the man who has just removed his fingers out of you. His expression displays sadism. It's clear that he loves seeing you like this more than anything. "We can't have you cumming that fast now can we? It'll be no fun", he starts to remove his belt and then pants until he reaches his boxer. You can only watch him impatiently, wanting his cock deep inside you already and so does he.

Once his dick is freed from the clothing covering it, he wastes no time and flips you over on your belly. "Ass up", he commands and by whatever readon, your body feels compelled to do what's told. With your ass facing him, he plunges his fat cock into you. If it weren't for you pushing him a bit with your hand reaching back, it would have already gone deep inside you. Fortunately, it's only halfway there. He chuckles knowing his cock is too big for you to even handle. Neither one of you knows whether it'll fit or not. "Fuck..", he curses as he feels your hole squeezing his cock. Oh how long has he been waiting for this feeling. To be inside of you. He can't wait anymore. Even with you putting your whole strength into trying to keep him in place, he can overpower you quite easily. With a simple push, his cock slides in all the way in, balls deep. You can feel your eyes roll back, trying to form a coherent word. You've never taken anything this big before, especially not in your ass. Minho looks absolutely satisfied. Words can't explain the amount of pleasure he feels and will be feeling in a few seconds. "T-too big...", finally being able to talk just a few words, you state the obvious. You can even see his cock bulging just a bit above your belly button. It's too much.

"I'm going to move now", he immediately gets to it. Thrusting in and out, moving his hips. Your poor hole is sure to be thoroughly stretched after this. Your warn insides welcoming his cock by squeezing so tight, almost not wanting to let go. You don't contain your loud moans, letting them all out. It's like music to Minho's ears, to know you're enjoying every bit of it just like he is. He groans due to how tight you are. You bury your face into the pillow, trying to muffle the sound of moans due to it being the morning, not to mention the door being unlocked. If someone were to enter the door right now, they'd be face to face with you and your hole being stuffed full of cock.

The sound of skin slapping against skin is loud. Afterall, Minho is being extra rough with you. Maybe he's punishing you, or, he could be rewarding himself with you due to how long he's held back the urge to just pound you infront of everyone during training. His thrusts get faster and faster until you think it's inhumanly possible for him to be fucking you this hard. Your moans and yells are muffled by the soft pillow. One hand has a firm grip on your waist while the other gropes your ass, loving the feeling of your squishy and soft skin. "You love this don't you, [Name]", he chuckles in between breaths, a smirk on his face as he knows you can't reply. You can feel your mind go blank as he moves his hips. Your hands can only tightly hold the sheets and blanket next to you.

"Agh..Take my seed like a good boy..!", his voice shaky, clearly about to reach his limit. As he thrusts back in, his cum fills your insides. He stays there with his dick inside you as it pumps all his cum deep inside of your hole. At the same time, you also manage to cum, splurting all over the mattress. Coating the off white sheets with your thick cum. You pant, catching your breath, not able to process anything in your cock filled head. Minho places a hand over your stomach, holding you up and to make sure his cock is still inside as he leans down on your back, also trying to catch his own breath. "Good boy, you took me so well", you turn to look at him. His satisfied expression and even more satisfied cock.

˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗

"Everyone, listen up.", the manly voice commands the whole room. Everyone stands up straight, paying attention on the owner of said voice. "I will not tolerate anyone else being late. Once the clock hits 5AM, I expect all of you to already be here.", he walks around infront of the perfect lines. His gaze is sharp. He allows no room for jokes. You stand at the very front of one of the lines. Occasionally, his eyes meet yours. Everytime you do meet eyes, there's a slight smirk on his face. Unnoticeable by everyone but you. You can't just ignore it. The both of you know why he's in such a good mood.

"This is the last time I'll tolerate any of you being late. There will be severe consequences the next time someone is. Understood?", Minho glares at the crowd. "Understood!", they all say in unision. He nods in approval. "Very well then. Today, everyone will get more rest, and we will begin training tomorrow.", he dismisses the whole training, leaving everyone confused as he walks back into his office. Everyone looks around in astonishment. Tae and Joon immediately go up to you. "Are you feeling better? Thank the heavens Han Gyogwan-nim decided to be nice today. What's that about anyways???", Joon asks with a confused look, just like any other soldier in training.

"Why're you so tense?", Tae points out as you don't have time to answer Joon's questions. You avoid eye contact as it gets a bit awkward. How could you not be when you have so much cum inside of you right now? Cum which belongs to none other than Han Minho. This is your punishment, he wants to see how long you'll last before you come crawling to him again for more cock. "N-no reason!", "relax!", Tae pats you on the back. You accidentally unclench and feel his cum dripping down inside your long pants. Who knows, maybe someone will notice. Maybe that someone will be a certain instructor. You're in for a long day and night.

══════════════════════════════

I hope you all like him! I don't have a lot to say about this man since it's almost 4am for me and I need sleep...

Please dont mind typos/grammar mistakes, I didn't have enough time to check the whole thing cuz I wanted to release it before going to sleep🥲

[konigsblog]

What does König think about glory hole?? (Feel free to ignore)

CW: MENTIONS OF DUB-CON, SNEAKY AND FORCED IMPREGNATION. MDNI 18+

König adores it.

He adores that he's anonymous, his face hidden behind a veil and a wall, with his swollen and bulbous cock plunged deep into your spongy, velvety walls. He can't get enough of your muffled sounds of struggle and pain, the pitiful whimpers you let out with each thrust. It's just you and him since he came early, too eager to let out some frustration by using your slick, tight pussy as an outlet.

König cupped a large, gloved hand over his mouth and rocked his fat, broad hips back and forth. His breathing was unstable, quickening with the aching pleasure between his muscular legs. He knew that you'd have no idea who this was. It's not like he's ever had a conversation with you, he only managed to stalk and admire you from afar, pretend that he's interested in your interests just to try and have a relatable conversation with his crush, resulting in him humiliating himself by failing because he's embarrassingly uneducated.

Your gummy walls tighten and pulse uncontrollably around his girthy dick, with König being unable to hold himself together. He wanted to come deep within your slick walls, despite the rules to wear a condom to prevent pregnancy. He couldn't be caught disobeying the rules like this. It's not like you'd notice either, too focused on the sharp and splitting sensation of his cockhead ramming into your gummy cervix. Your thighs and legs felt agonisingly weak, they shook and trembled with König's quickening pace. You couldn't bring yourself to move, to get away from the large man who was assaulting and violating your sticky, creamy pussy simply by using his large size.

He couldn't hold back. König spurted thick and hot ropes of his creamy, hot, and potent load deep within your soft, wet folds. You let out a loud whine and cried out as König slid from your hole, leaving you gaping and drooling, unable to take anyone else. You snuck out before anyone else would have arrived, taking care of the burning stretch and intense ache inside of your barracks, not focused on the fact that he'd fucked his semen inside, but the pain and agony.

[cowboy1ikereid]

sweet creature ~ s.r.

‘Wherever I go, you bring me home’

Summary: Spencer calls you when he’s missing home.

Warnings: pregnant!reader x husband!spencer, reader is in her second pregnancy and they already have a 3 y/o daughter, spencer is, again, a huge softie, calls you sweetheart, he's called away on an urgent case and misses you, reader is almost in third trimester, they fall asleep on the phone, cuties, inspired by sweet creature by harry styles, fluff and comfort

Category: Fluff x Comfort

Word count: 1.1k

Author's note: Spencer Reid deserved to get married and have children but he has to be a girl dad and I don't make the rules. I just know he would be the most sweet, caring and loving husband/dad in the world. Anyways I kind of had to do something to this song because I saw it live (Wembley N4 I’ll miss you forever). Enjoy!!

You were exhausted, both emotionally and physically. Being 7 and a half months pregnant and taking care of your 3 year old daughter alone had never been part of the plan. In fact, Spencer was supposed to be working either in office or from home during the later stages of your pregnancy, but a serious case meant that he was needed urgently by the BAU. With only 8 hours notice he was in Florida, and suddenly he was approximately 920.4 miles away from you.

It was around 9pm, and you’d been eagerly awaiting a phone call from your husband. You’d blame your anxiety on the hormones, but you knew it wasn’t just that. You’d always been like this whenever he was away, and you never quite managed to properly adjust to how much travelling his job required. Lizzie, your daughter, was laid next to you in the bed you and Spencer shared, asleep on his side of the bed. She was the same as you whenever her dad was away, even if she didn’t quite understand his job. She was a daddy’s girl, and if sleeping on Spencer’s side of the bed helped her to feel that little bit closer to him when he was away, you would let her. Her curly light brown hair was sprawled across the pillow which she drooled on, unconscious.

Your phone was on silent so the ringer didn’t wake her up, but as soon as you felt the persistent buzzing and Spencer’s name appeared on the screen, you stood, stretching slightly before leaving the room and quietly closing the door behind you, simultaneously swiping the button to answer the call.

“Hi.” You whispered softly, cautious not to wake up your sleeping three-year-old who was in the next room.

“Hi sweetheart. How are you?” Spencer’s sweet voice spoke over the phone.

“Hanging on. I managed to settle Lizzie after she cried because you couldn’t tuck her in tonight.. Little one has been quiet for now, but I just know that she’ll start getting active as soon as I attempt to sleep.” You spoke with a soft smile on your face at the thought of the little life growing inside of you whilst you tiptoed down the stairs and into the living room, sitting down on the sofa with a hand on your round bump, rubbing it gently.

You heard Spencer sigh over the phone. “I miss you. I saw the three of you this morning and it feels like I haven’t seen you in months.” He chuckled. Spencer was alone in his hotel room, and it felt strangely quiet. Unfamiliar. If Spencer was home, you’d be asleep in his arms by now, your soft snores echoing in the darkness of your bedroom. Pregnancy was tiring, after all. But you struggled to sleep without each other, and you knew that. Your house may as well have been cold and empty to you without him there. Your house wasn’t your home. Spencer was, and you knew that he felt the same way about you. That was why he’d called.

“Any new symptoms? At around the seven month mark, you should expect to experience some shortness of breath, discomfort which may lead to difficulty moving, frequent urination, lightheadedness caused by the baby putting pressure on your blood vessels which can slow blood flow, fatigue-” He began to reel off pregnancy symptoms until he was cut off by your sleepy laugh.

“Spence, you’ve been gone for less than a day. You don’t have to worry about me. I feel the same as I did earlier.” You giggled.

“And that is?” He questioned. You could picture him furrowing his eyebrows, and the thought of it made your heart warm.

“Achey, tired, like a whale, hungry..” You listed, and you already knew he was going to give you advice on how to deal with your symptoms. He’d done more than enough research on pregnancy when JJ was first pregnant with Henry, and since then he’d unexpectedly found himself helping a woman give birth on a case.

“You need to rest. It’s late and that’s one of the only things that could help with your symptoms right now apart from physical activity, but I doubt you’d want to do any exercise at the moment,” He instructed, and you knew that he was being serious, even with his light tone. You’d think that you’d know more about pregnancy than Spencer, with you being mid-way through your second pregnancy, but he knew everything. Whilst anybody else might have been surprised by that, you weren’t. He’d done extensive research on the topic, after all, and he continued to. “And I can also guarantee you that you don’t look like a whale.” He added, and you could hear his smile in his voice.

“That’s what you think. I can hardly move, and when I do I waddle. I waddle, Spencer!” You pouted, and you could hear him laugh.

“Well I’m sure you look beautiful whilst you waddle.” He teased.

After a few quiet conversations between the two of you, 9pm turned to 11:30pm, and you could feel your mind wanting to drift off as your conversations slowly turned into Spencer spouting off random facts whilst you listened, his voice soothing you as though he was there with you. You decided to go back upstairs and tuck yourself into bed whilst he talked, placing your phone on the nightstand. He wasn’t really next to you, but it was close enough. You knew Lizzie wouldn’t wake up between Spencer’s soft words, the low volume your phone was on and her tendency to be a heavy sleeper. However, Spencer soon realised you were responding to him less and less.

“Sweetheart?” He said quietly, and you hummed in response, already drifting off. “Do you want me to hang up?” He asked, and your eyes snapped open. “No. Uh, I mean, I’d like it if you could just… stay on the line.” You said quietly, and he understood what you meant.

“Of course,” He responded, “Good night. I love you.” He said, and you said it back.

Soon enough, you fell asleep, and if he closed his eyes, he could picture you there next to him, your soft snores echoing around his hotel room. That was all he needed to relax, and Spencer soon found himself drifting off to sleep, feeling like he was at home. Feeling like he was with his home.

You brought him home.

[hitomisuzuya]

Student council president!scara x troublemaker!reader

But reader always get sent to his office until he's had enough

Scaramouche x fem!reader. Smut. Orgasm denial. Nipple play. Degradation. Scara with a tongue piercing. Fingersucking.

I am glad a request like this popped up again. I was writing a similar request a few months ago, but Tumblr glitched and ate it whole before I could post it😭

All you wanted was the student council president's attention. And despite the lazy way Scaramouche approached the position, he still enforced the school rules. Breaking the school rules would get his attention.

So that's what you did week in and week out. You even spent your weekend thinking up ways to make trouble for him.

However, before you realized you were in over your head, it was already too late.

Scaramouche's cock was throbbing seeing the look on your face. There was a shy, embarrassed flush on your cheeks as you looked at him. You were sitting on his office desk with your legs spread. Your panties lay forgotten on the floor, your skirt hiked up around your thighs. Your blouse was open and hanging off one shoulder, your bra pulled down off of your breasts.

"How many times have you been sent to my office this week, hm?" His eyes were hooded in an annoyed and aroused look. A smirk tugged on the corners of his lips, though. He practically seen the embarrassed realization in your eyes when you felt how wet you are.

You could barely look at him, fidgeting a little on his desk. Your eyes slid away from him shyly, catching sight of his hand inching closer between your legs. Your breath quietly hitched in your throat in anticipation. "Three. It's been three this week," You let out a flustered noise.

"That's how many times I am going to deny you the privilege of cumming," The teasing smirk widened into one of cruelty when your eyes widened. He knew your poor little brain hadn't even considered that as a punishment. He saw it on your face.

His fingers hovered over your throbbing clit just to tease you. He could tell you were dying to move your hips a little, bringing your clit closer to his fingers. "Lick," He commanded, bringing his hand up and tapping two fingers on your lips.

Your tongue swept out to lick his fingers. Your licks were long, languid and indulging. You look just as good as he imagined you would look while he fisted his cock at night. He'd always wondered what you would look like reduced to a pliable, drooling slut.

"Is this what you wanted?" Scaramouche purred, pushing the tips of his fingers into your mouth, "To be the student council president's pet slut?" He had half the mind to order you onto your knees to tend to his straining cock, but breaking you took priority.

He pressed down on your tongue, making you let out a soft, choked moan. "Mhm," You replied, sucking on the tips of his fingers. His fingers are so beautiful. And they could certainly do a lot more than yours could.

You let out a whine of protest as Scaramouche took his fingers out of your mouth. "Did you think I was going to indulge you? What do you think a punishment is, slut?" There would be plenty of time to make you happily choke on his cum spattered fingers when he was finished with you later.

You opened your mouth to speak, but the words were cut off before they could form. You felt him part your drooling folds, slowly tracing the shape of your pussy. A shiver of pleasure curled up your spine as the tips of fingers slowly circled your clit.

You threw your head and moaned, shamelessly grinding your pussy on his fingers. Your clit throbbed as his fingers teased it at various paces. Paces that were torture for you. Your legs were starting to shake, your walls clamping around nothing from the stimulation.

You felt a hand roughly grasp the back of your head. "Look at me while I make you moan, whore," He moved your head so you would look at him. You only moaned louder hearing his consistent degradation.

"Y-Yes, sir," You managed. His fingers were expertly coiling the knot of your orgasm tighter in your stomach. He groaned hearing you address him as sir, a rightful title considering his position as student council president.

In his opinion, anyways.

You squirmed as he withdrew his touch, seeing your body twitching and on the verge of cumming. He watched you shake as you came down from being denied.

"Look at you," Scaramouche taunted, bringing his fingers up to examine the way your slick shined on them, "Making a mess on my fingers. Does your insolence know no bounds?"

"Please, will you let me cum if I apologize?" There were tears in your eyes as you looked at him. Your watery eyes made more precum soak his jeans.

"No," He replied, bracing an arm around your back. He arched your back, bringing your chest closer to his mouth as he leaned down. He slowly swirled his tongue around your nipple. Shocks of pleasure buzzed right to your clit, reigniting that warm feeling in your stomach.

The ball of his tongue piercing rubbed on your sensitive nipple as it hardened on his tongue. You were embarrassingly sensitive from being denied earlier. The stimulation of his tongue piercing took your breath away.

You could do nothing but whimper and moan as he sucked on your nipple. It was startling to you how good it felt to be sexually tortured by him. "Please, please! I'll be a good girl I promise," You pleaded, reaching for the hand that was kneading and fondling your other breast.

Your hand shook as you tried to move it between your legs. The look in your eyes was so desperate. You are a pliable play thing for him to enjoy. He jerked his hand from yours. "Troublesome sluts don't get to decide when they cum," He growled, grazing his teeth over your nipple.

You are breaking so well for him.

Scaramouche waited until your body was gripped with the tell tale signs of cumming. Drool rolled down your breast as he sucked on your nipple. He couldn't stand the throbbing in his cock anymore, reaching down to hastily palm it. Fuck you look and sound so intoxicating.

The way his tongue was lingering on your nipple gave you some hope that he was going to go easy on you and let you cum.

How wrong you were.

"We have still got one more to go," Scaramouche reminded you, releasing your nipple with a wet pop. "How much longer can you last, I wonder?"

[tojisrealwifey]

Got Your Hands Full

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ 𝗦𝘆𝗻𝗼𝗽𝘀𝗶𝘀: 𝗛𝗼𝘄 𝗝𝗝𝗞 𝗠𝗲𝗻 𝘂𝘀𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗶𝗿 𝗵𝗮𝗻𝗱𝘀 𝘄𝗵𝗲𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝘆 𝗳𝘂𝗰𝗸 𝘆𝗼𝘂.

・❥・𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗿𝗮𝗰𝘁𝗲𝗿𝘀: 𝗴𝗼𝗷𝗼 𝘀𝗮𝘁𝗼𝗿𝘂, 𝗳𝘂𝘀𝗵𝗶𝗴𝘂𝗿𝗼 𝘁𝗼𝗷𝗶, 𝗿𝘆𝗼𝗺𝗲𝗻 𝘀𝘂𝗸𝘂𝗻𝗮, 𝗻𝗮𝗻𝗮𝗺𝗶 𝗸𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗼, 𝗴𝗲𝘁𝗼 𝘀𝘂𝗴𝘂𝗿𝘂.

・❥・requests : rules

WARNING: 18+, Smut, No Protection, Oral Sex (f. receiving), Fingering, Squirting, Mirror Sex, Choking, Public Sex (Kinda), Getting Caught (Sorta), Doesn't Pull Out, MDNI

・❥・wc: 1.2k

・❥・masterlist

GOJO PLAYS WITH YOUR ASS

Gojo loves your ass, always finding excuses to grab you. Being in public didn't stop him either. He will try to slap your ass every time it seems a bit too appetizing.

During sex, he's balls deep in your cunt, maintaining the doggy-style position as his hands immediately connect with your supple flesh and squeeze it between his fingers.

He nuzzles his cock deep in you, not allowing you to move as he turned your skin red from continuously pinching your flesh. 

Once he was satisfied toying with your ass he presses your asscheeks closer together and starts to move, taking an agonizingly slow speed to torment you.

His eyes were trained on the rim of his cock, drooling at the sight of your arousal forming a ring around it, softly admiring how you shamelessly dripped onto the mattress from only being stuffed full.

He made sure to cum before you because he wants to paint your ass. Once your skin is covered in streaks of cum he bends a bit to bring his face to your cunt.

His nails dig into your skin as he spreads your ass apart to eat you out. Tongue plunging into your walls as you jolt against him. 

He moans a bit at your taste and at the feeling of your skin meeting his cheeks. Moving his head he would occasionally bite on your ass before going back to tongue-fucking you.

As you orgasm, he makes sure to get some of your release on his fingers to spread it on your ass along with his cum.

"you have got to let me spank you once."

TOJI WOULD PLAY WITH YOUR CLIT

Toji loved to see you become a mess. The more sex you both had the better he became at making all your sessions wetter.

Eventually, there was not a moment where your bed wouldn't end up soaked. Initially, he had worked on perfecting his fingers to make you squirt. 

Two of his fingers would constantly bully your walls till you orgasmed, then when you do he would abuse your clit. 

By doing this he had soon become an expert with his fingers, his digits knowing all of your sensitive spots. That's why he later tries to achieve the same with his cock.

He fucks you missionary, making sure you feel every single stroke as his fingers aggressively rubbed on your clit. 

They would tug at your sensitive pearl, pinching and stroking your nerves. Your body would jolt every single time he applied a little too much pressure, inevitably making you cum.

When you do, he would angle his hips in such a manner that the tip of his cock would repeatedly push against your bladder.

As he does so the friction on your clit would increase tenfold, his fingers moving quickly resulting in you spraying your release over the two of you. 

"it's so fuckin' gorgeous when you make a mess."

SUKUNA WOULD CHOKE YOU

Sukuna loved feeling superior. His biggest turn-on was seeing complete submission.

So as he fucks you against the mirror, he needs to show you a full view of yourself acting so obedient. He tightened his grip around your neck making sure you were facing the mirror at all times.

Your eyes blur over your reflection, seeing your mouth agape with a very prominent trail of drool flowing down.

You knew it wasn't just because of your lack of airflow due to his hand around your neck, but also because you were stuffed completely full by his girth.

You internally admired the sight of your soaked pussy, watching how it managed to accommodate all of his length.

While one hand was settled around your neck, two others were holding your legs up to keep them spread apart.

His fourth arm was wrapped around your torso to keep you pressed against him, and also to use it as leverage to move you up and down on his cock.

Since you were stretched apart so much, you could feel every single thrust that grazed your cervix. Incoherent babbles barely leave your mouth due to the pressure around your neck.

Soon you were cumming with him following right after, filling you up.

"don't waste a single drop. if you do, you'll be choking on my cock next."

NANAMI WOULD TEASE YOUR NIPPLES

Nanami is one of the most stoic people you will ever meet. That is until you fuck him.

His head was resting against the handrest of the loveseat, completely dressed except for his pants being unbuckled to keep his cock out.

You on the other hand were bare, a complete contrast to him. His cock was sheathed in your cunt making him gulp occasionally due to the intensity.

You were leaning forward, each of your breasts pressed against the palms of his hands, his elbows resting on the cushioned seat below. You were using his hands as support to keep yourself stable while you continued to ride him.

Heavy grunts escaped from his throat as his release grew closer. To stop himself from cumming he tries to prolong his build-up by trying to bring your orgasm closer.

His fingers started to pinch the sensitive flesh of your breasts, making sure to also rub them to soothe the pain.

His hands continued their assault as your hips started moving faster. You ignored the strain on your thighs as your lower abdomen grew tighter.

As you orgasm, you cry out his name to ground yourself, not stopping till you knew he had cum as well.

And he does so, hard. Letting out a few grunts as his fingers tugged your nipples till they swell.

"wanna cum on your tits, love."

GETO WOULD KEEP YOUR THROAT FULL

Geto loved public sex. More specifically, he loved to claim you regardless of where you both were. His hands would slide beneath your dress, sliding your panties to the side to plunge his fingers in.

Over time you had gotten so used to it that you would sometimes not wear anything underneath to speed up the process.

This was one of those times. As he sat on the dais listening to his client tell him their symptoms, his hand had discreetly slipped beneath your yukata robes as you sat beside him in close proximity.

When his fingers lightly touch your sensitive folds, he almost breaks character. A smirk threatened to overtake his features as he felt your arousal completely drench your cunt.

He was sure that if you were to stand up there would be a wet spot on the tatami floor. 

He halted his client from continuing, explaining how he had understood the issue and needed to prepare. 

Excusing the two of you with that lie, he moved to a small room across the hallway that barely fit the two of you.

Your robes had been lifted and scrunched up around your waist, leaving your soaked sex on display. 

Your nails clawed at the wooden structure of the shoji door, trying your best not to accidentally tear the paper.

He had easily slipped in three of his digits, making him smirk at the obvious. You had definitely played with your pretty cunt before you joined the meeting.

As his fingers moved in you, small whines left your throat with every stroke. Even when a passing servant walked past the room your moans hadn't stopped.

You had felt the servent falter in their steps, and bit your tongue in embarrassment. They knew exactly what was happening.

Courtesy of this, the fingers that had been in your pussy were now being plunged into your throat.

Taking advantage of this, he undid his robes to finally put his cock to use. As he pushed in you, your throat convulsed around his fingers due to the moan ripped out of you.

"you need to be quiet. unless you want everyone to watch."

[hottiesforhockey]

can I request Jack Hughes w the quote "delete it." Where he's on ur insta and finds a picture of you at the beach in a skimpy bikini & there like randoms commenting the crazy stuff, plsss🙏🙏

puckbunnypriv

liked by _quinnhughes, lhughes_06, jackhughes and others

puckbunnypriv sad summer is over 🥲 📸 : jackhughes

jackhughes stunning 😍

↳ _quinnhughes luke is actually drooling right now

lhughes_06 👀 😮‍💨

colecaufield the things i would do for you to give me one shot

↳ trevorzegras @ jackhughes someone is trying to steal your girl

"delete it." Jacks voice is low as he glares down at his phone, his thumb still scrolling as he reads the excess of comments. you pause your movements in the kitchen, placing the knife on the chopping board besides the watermelon.

"what are you talking about?" You question, walking around the kitchen counter, leaning over the back of the couch to get a glance at his phone. "Oh, but you took that photo... I thought I looked cute?" You respond, your brows pinching as you look down at him in confusion.

"You do look cute." He groans, "too cute." he whispers under his breath, locking his phone and throwing it to the other side of the couch. "and that's the problem, so delete it."

Your smile slowly grows as you realise the issue with the photo, remembering the messages constantly blowing up your phone from friends who had seen the pic and warned you that Jack has a jealous streak.

"Look at these fucking comments." Jack curses as he tilts his head back noting your sly smile, his hands reaching for his phone, unlocking it before turning it towards you so you can read. "My own brother and bestfriend are drooling over you." he whines as the infamous hughes pout forms on his face.

"aw, how sweet of them." you tease, scrolling a little before adding fuel to the fire, "cole has been working really hard this summer." Jack shift his head to glare at you in full force, locking his phone before throwing it away again, his hands pushing him off the couch, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he closes in on you.

"you think you're so funny." He grumbles, your feet taking a step back every time he steps forwards, his hand reaching out for you as you side step him. "baby, as much as I love seeing you in your swimsuits we need some new rules." he continues as he follows after you, lunging forwards, his hands managing a firm grip on your hips as he yanks you towards him.

"no more bikini pics." he whispers in your ear, his arms wrapping around your waist as he pulls your back tight against his front, his lips pressing a soft kiss to your neck as your giggling dies down, gulping against the lump in your throat.

"your body is for me and for me only." he continues, his hands slipping under your t-shirt, sliding softly against the skin on your sides, your breath catching in your throat, as he presses more delicate kisses against your neck, sucking lightly as he reaches the underside of your jaw.

you let out a soft sigh as your lean your head back against his shoulder, feeling his mouth break out in a grin as his hands move higher, his fingers just barely grazing your skin as he reaches the underside of your breasts fiddling with the lace on your bralette.

your lip catching between your teeth as he moves ripping his hands away from you, moving quickly from his spot behind you - standing two steps away as your body still tingles from his touches.

you turn quickly to look at him in shock, the brightest smile on his face as he watches you frown. "no so fun when you're the one being teased, is it?" he chuckles.

[seospicybin]

TOO HOT TO HANDLE.

PART III

Hyunjin x reader. (s)

Too Hot To Handle Masterlist

Synopsis: You and Hyunjin become contestants in a reality dating show, Too Hot To Handle. (14k words)

Author's note: Feel free to vent in my inbox once you finished reading it :)

LANA: In order to test how committed my guests are to the process, I call for help from my former retreat guests: Felix, Chris, and Avery. Their mission is to entice them to find out if they're capable of following the rules outside the retreat.

-

Everyone is going around exchanging hugs and cheek kisses while telling each other's names.

You only remember it now, the name of the girl, it's Avery and she looks like a Malibu Barbie with an Australian accent.

When it's your turn to hug Chris, you have to actively tell your brain to stay calm and not think about how you have a secret crush on him.

"Chris," he introduces himself, opening his arm for a friendly hug.

It's a good thing that he's not shirtless or else, you'd be drooling by now but those big biceps are quite distracting.

"Hi, Chris," you manage to sound coy saying it.

You catch a whiff of his perfume as you exchange a hug and Gosh, he smells amazing. You're staggering as you walk backward to be with everyone else.

"The three of you are Australians," Edie innocently says.

"We' are Australia's sexiest export since... ever," Felix jokingly says then breaks into laughter.

Even his laugh is so attractive, It's sonorous and infectious, inviting you to laugh along with him.

"We came back because we learned so much on the previous seasons that we came to pass the lesson on to you," Avery says, then she glances at the guys standing on each side of her, "Right, guys?"

Felix puts his hand against his waist and puts all of his weight to one side like he's striking a pose in a photo shoot.

"Well, yeah," he says with his nose scrunched, "but also we came here to show you guys how to have fun!"

Chris pops open the bottle of champagne on cue, sending the content spurting out of it and he hurriedly takes a chug to stop it from spilling.

It's unfair how Chris can easily make you feel the slightest bit hot and bothered, just standing there with that wine dripping down his chin. You lick your lips while imagining licking the wine on his veiny neck.

Realizing that you're in the presence of other people, you hurriedly snap yourself out of it.

"Wait, wait, it's not fair that there's three of us and five of them," Avery says while adorably crossing her arms in front of her.

Felix puts his arm around her and brightly smiles, "Don't worry, we'll make it even," he says.

Your head starts looking around the boat, anticipating something and perhaps, anyone's arrival based on what Felix said.

"Give a warm welcome to the two new arrivals!" Avery cheerily announces.

With Lana, it can't be just a boat party, you can tell that she threw this party for certain purposes other than to introduce the new arrivals.

It's wise that you keep cautious with whatever you're doing at this party. You don't want to mess with either Lana or the money, and you surely don't want to mess it up with Hyunjin.

The new arrivals are looking hot and heavy, ready to fuck everybody. The girl is a gorgeous blonde with big, blue eyes named Emile and the guy is a Brazilian man with a chest tattoo, Gustav.

With Chris tirelessly filling the glass and Felix distributing it to everyone, they make sure everyone holds a drink in their hands and is ready for a toast.

"Cheers!" Everyone says in unison, raising their champagne flutes in the air before taking a sip of it.

Things get crazy whenever alcohol is involved so to be safe, you moderately drink your wine and sip as little as possible.

"Okay now we each choose someone to do a body shot with," Felix suggests an icebreaker to fully kickstart the party.

Avery is the one who enthusiastically welcomed that idea and she starts looking for someone to do it with. The boys must be buzzing and whoever gets chosen, he's lucky as hell.

"You," Avery says, pointing in your direction.

You look to the side at Edouard and elbow his side to make him aware of this one-of-a-kind offer.

"No. You," Avery says, talking to you.

Aghast, you unconsciously point at yourself and ask her back to confirm, "Me?"

Avery laughs at the way you reacted, "Come here, my darling," she puts away her drink, then holds her hand out at you.

Half disoriented, you reach for her hand and she makes you sit on the wooden floor with colorful cushions strewn around for people to lay about.

"Now, lay down," she instructs you.

Somehow, you find yourself obeying her words and putting yourself in a compromising position. You rest your head on your pillow and try to stay calm even though everyone is looking at you.

Avery grabs a glass of shot in her hand and she puts all of her hair away on one shoulder, she smiles as she lifts the shot before dripping it onto your chest.

"Oh, my gosh!" You shakily gasp the second the liquid makes contact with your skin, making you shiver from the cold.

But that's the least of the things you should be surprised by. Avery then leans down while keeping her hair down on her shoulder and drinks the puddle of alcohol gathered on the valley of your breasts.

Avery lands a long lick down your front, her tongue feels slick and hot on your skin, making you grip the cushion and try so hard not to squeal.

She seems to enjoy doing it and everyone else can only watch it with envy in their eyes. The laugh she lets out as she lifts her head confirms it.

"Now that's how you start a party!" Edouard says.

Without having to look, you know you're flustered and your hands fly to cover your face, embarrassed. Also, you must admit it gets you a little aroused as well and the party has only started.

-

YOU: In the middle of the sea, on a boat with these sexy, horny people and plenty of booze... [exhales] That's the recipe for chaos.

-

Hyunjin's head is all over the place. He can't stay still and when he finally does, all sorts of thoughts go through his head and they're all not helping him relax.

And he can't help but wonder is this how you felt when he was going on that date with Saskia?

He'll take it as his karma then but he's not the only one feeling restless, the others who are in couples are going through the same things but have different ways of handling it.

Andy, however, is not taking it well. He's going through five stages of grief around the villa.

"When I went on that date with Edie she made it clear that she only wanted to be friends and that she wanted to connect with someone else," Andy croons while tugging his blond hair.

Hyunjin nods to let him know that he's listening to his rant but has nothing to respond to that.

"I think it'll be good for her to connect with someone else," he says with a nonchalant shrug.

That would be nice of him to think so because Hyunjin could never think that way, he wants you to be happy but God, he'd hate to lose you to someone else.

Andy plops onto the lounger next to him and roughly runs his hands through his hair.

"I've already detached myself from her and I feel bad for still wanting to be with her," he grumbles.

"We've all been there," Hyunjin says, trying to sympathize with him.

Hyunjin almost forgot about that part where Andy broke up with Edie. Even though they're no longer a couple now, you can just detach yourself from people but the feelings, they're pretty much still intact.

It's even harder in the villa because the person is there and you have to deal with it face to face.

God, Hyunjin hopes he doesn't need to go through that much pain.

-

HYUNJIN: [Breathing deeply]

-

The boat party is in full swing.

Felix is making sure everyone's glass is filled, Avery is floating around with her wide, bright smile and Chris is playing some party music on his small DJ set-up.

So far so good, no one has broken the rules yet but 'yet' is the keyword here, you get the feeling that it's only about time until someone caves in, and when that happens, it will trigger a chain reaction.

You decide to sit this one out and watch the party from the side, avoiding any potential risk that would lead you to break the rules.

You're quietly sipping your wine while sitting against the big cushion and enjoying the nice, warm sea breeze when the temptation comes over to you carrying a bottle of champagne.

It's hard not to smile whenever he's around and he's smiling at you.

"Do you mind if I join you?" Chris asks.

"Not at all," you reply, scooting a little to the side to make space for him.

"Let me refill it for you," he says, offering to fill your glass with more wine.

In return, you take the bottle from him and fill his glass for him, having a toast to finally have a sip together. He's sitting so close to you, that you can feel your arms brushing together from the slightest of movement.

He looks out at the view of the sun that is slowly sinking into the horizon and delightfully sighs. Then he turns his head at you and asks you something that you're not ready to answer.

"Would you kiss anyone here?"

Well, there is someone you would like to kiss but he's off-limits.

"Oh, I would love to but uh..." you break into a laugh as your eyes meet his.

Chris licks his lips after sipping his wine, "Are you worried about the rules?"

Not the main reason why but yeah, that's one of the reasons. You chuckle and answer, "I've spent a lot of money already."

He cracks a laugh and his dimples appear on his cheeks, "Been there, done that."

As someone who went through this before, you're sure he knows how it felt because there's no other reason why he laughed.

"So, tell me about this guy you've spent a lot of money with," he asks.

You contemplate for a moment how much can you tell but since he's someone from outside of this retreat and went through the same thing, maybe he can give you some insights.

"Well, he kind of messed up a while ago actually," you share with him.

"Ouch!" He exclaims.

"But I found myself still liking him despite all of that," you continue, sipping your wine in between sentences, "It's actually scared me because I think I've lost my head a little."

It's been gnawing inside you, how you doubt Hyunjin will be the right one for you as you get haunted by this fear that he'll make the same mistake again.

Chris holds his drink in the other hand and slightly turns his body to face you, "Maybe losing your head means you're maybe in your heart," he warmly tells you.

You smile hearing his words and you really wish they're true, you're having this doubt because you want this to be something genuine.

"That's what I hope," he adds with a smile.

"Thank you, Chris," you sincerely tell him, clinking your glass with him for another toast.

When you said it's only about time, well, the time is here. As you look around for another bottle of wine, you see Edie and the new guy going at each other's faces like animals in heat.

But that's the least of your worries. When you turn your head the other way, you see Edouard doing body shots on Saskia.

It's not only about the money now, but also loyalty and friendships. You drain your wine glass empty and gasp, "We're fucked!"

-

YOU: They forgot everything! They forgot about the purpose, forgot about Lana, forgot about everyone.

-

Hyunjin can hardly think of anything when you haven't returned on dinnertime. He barely eats his food, he tries shoving a few spoonfuls but has a hard time swallowing them down.

"I'm not hungry," he says, pushing the plate away from him.

"Your plate is still full," Frida says, her voice tinted with concern.

He reclines in his seat and sighs, "I'm too tense."

"I know how you feel," Vic says as she's also waiting for Edouard to return.

Andy pats his shoulder and with a mouth full of food says, "At least you're not worrying someone who doesn't want to be with you."

Well, that's a way to look at the brighter side of things.

The longer you're away from him, the more he worries and his worries affect other people in the vicinity as well. However, there's one person in particular who is having fun in this situation.

"If Edouard kissed someone, would you be pissed?" Diego asks Vic who's sitting cross-legged on the single sofa on the terrace.

"Depends on who he did it with," she answers while picking at her nails.

"If he kissed Saskia, would you be pissed?"

"Very," she answers without a beat.

That gets Hyunjin more alerted, because what if you kissed someone? You know, like out of curiosity? Speaking of experience, he almost did it once with Saskia.

"Do you think they might do something?" Hyunjin nervously asks.

"What do you think?" Diego tosses the question at Vic.

"If I know him like I think I do, I think he won't kiss anyone," she diplomatically answers.

Hyunjin doesn't know how she's doing it but he must admire Vic's patience and calmness in handling this.

"They won't do anything," Andy says, perhaps still stuck in the denial phase.

"If I were with someone here and I went there, and people started kissing each other, I'd probably do it," Diego is here to fuel more gas into the fire.

Frida grabs him by the knee and makes him listen to her, "It is something that I won't do to you because not only it would affect us, but also my friendship with her."

That seems to work on putting some sense into Diego and makes him stop talking altogether.

Hyunjin always thinks highly of you, he knows you wouldn't throw away what the two of you have built together, and that gets him a little hopeful.

"I bet my ass they're doing stuff," Vic remarks out of the blue.

Hyunjin doesn't expect this change of mood, she seems to have reached her limit and can't keep her composure anymore.

Andy sighs and leans back on the sofa, playing with the cushion on his lap, twirling it in the air a couple of times.

"There's a lot at stake today. Relationships, friendships, the house, the money..." he pauses to turn his head to the side to look at Vic, "...Vic's ass."

Everyone laughs at that and it helps to lighten up the mood, the only one who doesn't take it well is Vic.

"Fuck you!" She curses while laughing, hurling a cushion at Andy.

-

HYUNJIN: I hope for the best. But I also expect for the worst [blows air]

-

"Okay, honestly, but there is one person I'd like to kiss here," you suddenly share.

That gets Chris' eyebrow raised in curiosity, "Yeah. Who is it?"

You look him right in the eyes and answer, "I'm looking right at him."

He closes his eyes and grins, from the way his ear reddening you can tell he gets shy from what you said which is why you said that in the first place. That, and because of alcohol.

"But I know you're engaged and all," you quickly add.

He grins wider, and he looks so cute and shy like that, if he weren't off-limits, your head would definitely take a hard turn.

"I may be bad but I'm not that bad," you further explain, giggling along with him.

"So, not because of the guy you broke rules with?"

That catches you off guard and you laugh in embarrassment, "Well, yeah, that too."

"In that order?" He asks again, bumping his shoulder against you.

"Exactly in that order. You then him," you jokingly say.

This time, his cheeks get all red and his dimples sunken deeper into his cheeks as he keeps grinning.

"Guys, let's swim!" Felix shouts at both of you.

To be honest, you feel comfortable sharing the space with Chris and want to stay in it a bit longer. You shake your head and kindly refuse his offer.

"No, I'm good," you tell him.

The screams and squeals of the girls jumping into the water startle you, more so, because they ditch their bikinis.

"Oh, come on!" Felix grumbles, coming over to you and taking you by the hand.

"You're coming too," he shouts at Chris.

He's forcing you to get up and join him, taking you by the end of the edge of the deck. Since everyone is going in anyway, you have no option but to follow suit but decide to keep your bikini on.

"Wait, wait, I have to take this..." you tell him, untying the outerwear you're wearing.

"I'll help you," Chris says, helping you to take it off of you.

You're shivering as his hands brush the skin on your back but it's nothing compared to when he's taking his top off. You don't think this moment will come but here you are, looking at his body in its glory with the golden rays of the sun hitting him just right.

Impatient, Felix gets ahead and jumps into the sea while shouting some gibberish words out loud.

"Do it together, yeah?" He offers.

"Yeah, okay," you nervous answers.

He holds his hand out at you and you take it without hesitating, he counts from three, and on one, you both jump into the water together.

Everyone is having fun, you see Pablo is going at it with the new girl and Edie is simply having the time of her life. She squeal when she finally acknowledges your presence, waddling her way to you and clinging to you.

"Did you see me kissing him?" she whines,

"You mean sucking his soul out?" You joke.

"I didn't know how many times I kissed him," she whines again, putting her hands around you.

"Don't worry. Lana will know," you tell her.

For this once, you don't want to think of the money. You let yourself enjoy it, this moment and the company you're with, and also the beautiful view of the sunset.

-

YOU: I must admit, I had a lot of fun. I really needed that party.

-

Everyone is already waiting in the cabana for your return from the boat party.

You don't know why you're nervous, maybe it's coming from knowing everything that happened at the boat party and you came back with your hair and bikini damp from swimming.

Since there's no space left, you take the remaining spot that is on the far end of the sofa, sitting far away from Hyunjin.

Lana chimes in not long after everyone has settled down.

"Welcome back," She greets everyone who just came back from the boat party, "And welcome to the two new arrivals."

No one seems to realize the new additions to the retreat until Lana mentions them.

"Thank you, Lana," Emilie says with a smile.

"To test your growth, I prepared a party on a boat with the illustrious presence of some of my former retreat guests: Felix, Avery, and Chris," Lana informs.

Frida reacts with a loud gasp, "Really?"

"Yeah. It was so nice to meet them," Edie answers.

"You had no idea. It was awesome," Saskia adds, making her more envious.

"Damn!" Andy quietly curses next to Hyunjin.

Which makes you glance at Hyunjin and he seems a little tense, his jaws are all clenched yet it makes him more attractive.

"As soon as you left for the party, your friends had to choose whether or not to bet on your loyalty to the principles of the retreat."

A scoff slips out of you because your guess is right, you're not new to Lana's hidden agenda, the boat party was a test and you may not broken any rules but you failed nonetheless.

"We can double the prize money you know," Diego says, "All you had to do was to not break any rules."

"Oh, no..." Saskia cringes.

"What did you bet?" You ask, feeling a little anxious if they choose to bet all of the money.

"We bet to put our trust in you," Andy answers.

And that's where you failed, you could have prevented anyone from breaking the rules but you let them happen.

-

YOU: I never thought that they would bet double, that we weren't going to do anything.

-

Hyunjin is nervous, anxious even but when he finally sees you coming, he feels so relieved. Now that you're back, a new question pops in his head: did you break any rules?

His faith wavers a little as he notices that your bikini is damp and so is your hair, and you sit on the far end of the sofa. He doesn't even dare to ask and waits for someone else to do it for him.

"It's a good time to tell us if you broke any rules," Andy says, taking the role to ask the big question.

Edie's hand raised in the air and the sheer smile on Andy's face falters, "I broke the rules. I kissed Gustav," she admits right away.

"We kissed, yes," the new guy, Gustav, confirms with a sly grin.

"I thought the rules didn't apply outside the retreat," Edie innocently says in an effort to defend her rule break.

"Felix and Chris, and uh... Avery, they were encouraging us to break rules, saying that Lana wasn't there," Saskia delivers a weak argument.

Hyunjin is getting more tense with every detail of the boat party getting exposed in this heated argument.

"We held back at first," Edie calmly remarks.

"But you did give in," Remy says, easily diminishing her remark.

"I regret to inform you that many rule breaks were detected," Lana spoils another detail.

"I thought it was only the two of you," Marie says, pointing at Edie and Gustav, "Was there someone else?"

Hyunjin looks around and deeply hopes that he doesn't see your hand raised in the air, he sees Pablo's hand instead.

"Emilie and I kissed," he admits a little too late.

"They threw away kisses," Andy sighs while pinching the bridge of his nose in distress.

Pablo tries to throw the blame back at Edie, "She kissed a lot."

"Everyone did body shots," Edie reveals another detail and her hand flies in your direction.

"I only did one body shot," you defend yourself, "And I don't think that counts."

Hyunjin is fine with body shots, he has done it a couple of times during parties but his concern is who you did it with.

"We also went skinny dipping," Edouard reveals another thing.

And now skinny dipping? He's so wrong to think that you won't do anything, he slumps in his seat, disappointed.

Frida groans out loud, also slumping in her seat.

"Lana, give us the bill!" Diego says, no longer enjoying this.

"Fuck! It's going to be bad, it's double," Andy says in distress.

It takes Lana a moment to calculate the rule breaks and finally comes up with the final result, "All of these rule breaks have cost the group $72,000."

A minute passes in eerie silence as everyone tries to process how much money have lost at that boat party. There were only five people invited and yet they were capable of spending that much money.

"It must have been awesome being there," Marie sneers with a scowl.

"Of course it was," Pablo unapologetically says, being insensitive to his surroundings.

"The prize fund now stands at $60,000," Lana updates the current prize fund.

There's not much money left and with the new guest, he can't guarantee that it'll stay on that amount for long.

"You have the opportunity to develop and learn to connect. Don't take the process for granted," Lana concludes the session with a warning.

-

HYUNJIN: We are paying the price for something that wasn't our fault. All I can do is laugh.

-

It's close to bedtime and you head straight to the dressing room to take a quick shower and put on a pair of comfortable clothes of camisole and white shorts.

You're not purposely avoiding Hyunjin because at some point you'll have to talk to him, you merely give yourself and him some time to process what happened at the cabana earlier.

As you're doing your skincare routine, you see him entering the dressing room with an apparent scowl on his face and you take this as a cue to talk to him.

As he walks past your chair, you grab him by the hand and look up at him, "Hey, let's talk."

He rather seems reluctant to your invite but you don't want to wait anymore, it's a great time to have a talk since the two of you are alone in the dressing room.

You pat the chair next to you where Edie usually sits, "Come, sit here!"

He obeys you without saying anything, sitting facing you and letting you hold his hand on his lap. You have told everything about the boat party but you know you have to assure him that there's nothing else happened other than that.

"What happened at the boat party, I've already said everything that I did. I only did a body shot and nothing else," you tell him, keeping your tone soft and calm.

He gets quiet for a moment and it's his turn to speak so you wait for him to say anything, rubbing the back of his hand with your thumb.

He slightly slumps on the chair, sending his long legs spreading open in front of you and you know it's not the time for it but you feel tempted to tease him.

"We were all talking about all of you and the things you probably do there," he says.

You let go of his hand and rest your hand on his thigh all the while your eyes are looking at him, "Yeah?"

"I said if it were me, I wouldn't do that because one, out of respect for you and what we have."

Based on experience, you doubt that his act would match his words but you give him the chance to finish his talk.

"Two, for the group," he continues.

He makes it sound like you are this selfish person who does things as she pleases and you don't care about him at all when in fact, you did nothing on that boat party except for that one bodyshot with Avery.

"It wasn't intentional, someone chose to do it with me," you tell him the reason why you did it, not because you wanted to.

"I'm just—" he abruptly stops talking as if he has a change of mind in the middle of a sentence.

"I know what I feel for you and it's just that I can't act like that I'm okay with what you did," he explains.

You retract your hand off of him and grip the edge of your chair, "I told you, I only did one body shot and nothing else."

"You wouldn't like it if I did it," he hastily replies, almost losing himself there as he gives you an intense glare.

You hate to sleep without resolving it but it's obvious that he's angry so it's best to give him time to cool down and you can talk it all out with clear heads the next day.

-

YOU: He almost kissed another girl on a date and what makes him think that he won't do anything at that boat party? [Scoffs]

-

It's when you wake up that you realize that some people were switching beds last night.

Vic is sleeping with Marie while Edouard sleeps with Andy so you guess she already knew about what happened between Edouard and Saskia. At least, she knew it from Edouard himself and not from someone else.

As for you, you're not going into the talk yet. You still cuddle him and give him a morning kiss, you treat him like usual to let him know that nothing changed between you and him. This is just another thing you need to overcome together and deep down, you know you will.

The morning continues with a mumbling mess that is Vic at the breakfast table.

"I'm only going to try again if he can actually win me over," she says, stirring the scrambled egg on her plate with a fork.

You don't have the energy to deal with drama first thing in the morning so you decide not to meddle and risk saying things that upset her more.

"Then let him win you over," Marie from two chairs over tells her.

"I don't think he understands that he really needs to do the work to win me back," Vic grumbles again, dropping her fork onto her plate.

"So tell him," Marie coyly responds.

Vic sighs and runs her hands through his dark long hair, "But I know I'm never going to work things out with Saskia."

You know it's better not to stay away from it but you can't help it when your friends are going against each other, especially over a boy.

You put down your cutlery and look at Vic, "Vic, I think that you're a grown woman, and whether you want to or not, you should work things out with her."

She subtly rolls her eyes in response, not taking your words when it's possible to do so if one of them is open to reconciliation.

"You could figure this out together," you assure her.

"I am not going to talk to this girl. If she wants to talk to me which she won't then I'll talk to her. But she won't," Vic says with her nostrils flaring in anger.

It's obvious that Vic is not open to reconciliation, moreover, it's tricky considering that she has stubbornness in her. Then there's nothing left to do but tell her which side you're taking and it's neither.

"I just want you to understand that I love you and I also like talking to her. I don't want you to think that I'm two-faced," you carefully explain not avoid getting your words twisted.

"I just want everything to be fine because I like you both a lot," you add.

In the afternoon, Lana called everyone to the cabana as usual and she prepared something for everyone there. There's a TV with the word 'Cinelana' on the screen.

"Cinelana?" Edie says in genuine confusion.

Marie puts all of her hair to the side before taking a seat, "Will it be...?" She wildly guessed with a raised eyebrow.

Not long after everyone has taken their seats, the melodic chime comes and the cone lights up to signify Lana's arrival.

"Hello, everyone."

"Hi, Lana!" Everyone replies in unison.

"How are you?" Lana asks.

"Poor," Frida shortly replies.

"Broke and scared," Saskia answers.

To be honest, you feel more scared than broke. Maybe it's coming from knowing that you didn't contribute to that money deduction.

"From what I can see from your behavior, some forms of physical contact can be more sexual than those prohibited at the retreat," Lana says.

You have a feeling that she's about to expose everyone with this Cinelana and that's what you're scared of.

"But it's better to show than tell."

-

YOU: I have no problem showing everything that happened. Showing the thing I did is fine by me. But when it comes to the others, I don't know.

-

"I want you to see yourselves through my eyes."

The ones who went to the boat party seem to be nervous and everyone pretty much knows what Lana is about to show. Hyunjin can only hope that he doesn't see what he doesn't want to see.

"What is she going to show?" Diego curiously asks.

"Is there popcorn?" Marie casually asks.

"May the first session of Cinelana begin," Lana announces.

Cinelana starts with them having a big toast and from there, things escalate quickly, everyone reacts with a lot of gasps and squeals, cheering when they catch someone doing the rule break.

Hyunjin's heart skips a beat when you come on the screen, a girl pours a drink onto your chest and proceeds to drink it straight from it. He sees that you cover your face with your hands, looking flustered.

He feels a little jealous but not the kind that makes him angry, It's the kind that makes him envy. It's even crazier that he doesn't which one he should be more jealous of, the girl who did the body shot on you or you.

"Calm down. This is just the beginning," you tell everyone.

It suddenly turns quiet when the footage of Saskia and Edouard doing body shots on each other. Hyunjin can't help but look to the side, at Vic who looks uncomfortable and displeased with what she's seeing.

Thankfully, the attention is shifted to Edie who's devouring the new guy with ferocious kisses that get everyone hysterically screaming.

"Wow. Edie!" Diego clicks his tongue at her.

The movie ends with them going into the sea naked and Hyunjin is relieved to see that you told the truth to him, in fact, he should be proud that you stick to the principles even though everyone around you doing the opposite.

"And that's why we're poor," Marie comments as the screen turns dark.

Lana chimes once more, "What do you think about the movie?"

"I liked it, Lana," Pablo jokingly says.

"Do you think this behavior is fair to the group? Would anyone act differently?" Lana asks.

That seems to make everyone turn quiet again, offending the ones who went to the boat party. He turns to the side and sees that you open your mouth to speak.

"For me personally, when I got on that boat, that's when it stopped making sense to me. I realize that I would much rather be here than be there," you say.

You turn your head at him and smile, an unexpected gesture that makes him feel touched. All of a sudden, he doesn't know why he's mad in the first place, you've told him the truth and that should be enough for him.

"I think I'd have acted differently if I knew how much it would affect some people here," Edouard adds with a defeated look on his face.

"Now is the time to think about how are you going to move forward. I really hope you try harder," Lana says.

In other words, Lana demands everyone to do better from this moment on. Hyunjin figures that he should do better too in building this connection with you, he doubted you when he should have trusted you just like you trust him.

"That's all for today," Lana concludes the session.

Now is the time to pick up the conversation from last night. He takes you to the firepit to get some privacy so the two of you can talk comfortably.

"So, what do you think?" You ask, folding your legs on the sofa facing him.

Hyunjin cracks a smile and answers, "I can't even be mad at that. That was so hot."

You burst out laughing and playfully hit his chest, he catches your hand to stop you, pulling you onto his lap. He looks up at you and brushes your hair to the side, "I think I was made because you were gone the whole day," he honestly admits.

A smile rises on your face, "You missed me?"

"So much," he shamelessly answers.

"You're so into me, mmh?" You ask, putting your forehead against his.

"I'm so into you," he shortly replies, ignoring how stupid he sounded.

"Me too," you tell him with your hand cupping his jaw, "I'm so into you."

It's one of those moments that Hyunjin wishes he could freely kiss you just to prove his words to you with actions and it stresses him that he can't do that.

As if you read his mind, you land a soft kiss on his nose to compensate for not being able to kiss his lips and smile when you pull away. It doesn't quite satisfy his needs but it's enough to make his heart pitter-pattering inside his chest.

"We're even now," he jokingly says.

You hit his chest again a little harder this time, "Excuse me? This was different!" You strongly disagree.

He laughs and pulls you closer, what he did that time with Saskia is far worse than someone doing a body shot on you. He nods and immediately agrees with you.

"Okay, okay, but you owe me a body shot," he says, trying to get something out of it.

"That's fair," you agree to it.

-

HYUNJIN: My honest reaction? I liked the movie. It's better than I thought [chuckles]

-

The drama between Vic, Edouard, and Saskia continues onto the next day.

It gets even messier when the girls are doing makeup in the dressing room, it was a nice and quiet afternoon until Vic starts a fight, unprovoked.

"Do you think Edouard was hitting on her?" She asks you, fully aware that Saskia is there on the opposite side of the vanity table, curling her hair in peace.

Hearing that she is being indirectly addressed, Saskia puts down her curling iron and looks at Vic.

"No, he wasn't hitting on me, Vic. It's not like that," she tells him.

Vic acts nonchalantly, she continues putting foundation on her face as she talks, "Then what was it like?"

"He wasn't hitting on me and I wasn't hitting on him either," Saskia remarks.

"If you were hitting on him, then I have a problem with that," Vic argues more instead of dropping the conversation there.

"You think I hit on him? For God's sake, Victoria, don't be silly!" Saskia says with a sarcastic scoff.

The fact that Saskia addresses Vic by her full name only means that she has struck her nerves.

"No, I mean it," Vic keeps arguing.

You hate to get caught in the middle of the conflict so does everyone else on the vanity table but to meddle in is not the best option either.

'Yeah, keep believing that men are so honest. Men always talk their way out of things and the woman is the slut, the woman is the whore," Saskia says, still managing to curl her hair despite being in the middle of an argument.

Vic roughly puts down her makeup brush onto the table with a clang, "But if you led him on—"

Saskia cuts her off to defend herself, "Everyone was drinking, and when you drink—"

And Vic cuts her off midsentence in return, "You led him to believe you wanted him."

Saskia scoffs again and stops doing things altogether, "Oh, so you mean I can't drink? I can't get excited. I can't have fun at a party?"

You grab Vic's hand to stop her from keeping going and escalate things further, filling the room with palpable animosity. You don't want to be seen as taking anyone's side but no one is trying to stop them from coming at each other and turning it into a whole fight.

Looking around for help, you have no one to turn to but the cone perched on the shelf in the dressing room. Before you can ask for help, she chimes in.

Things are getting out of hand that Lana has to intervene, she gathers the three in the bedroom to talk and hopefully, they get to work it out together.

Since there's a party tonight, you continue doing your makeup with the rest of the girls while hoping for the best outcome for the three of them.

You still feel a little tense from being caught in the middle of conflict and Hyunjin seems to notice it. He comes from behind you, putting all of your hair away to the side so he can kiss your neck.

With his hand wrapped around your neck to keep you still, he gently sucking on the skin. You're squealing as he keeps placing ticklish kisses along your shoulder blade.

"Oh, I'm jealous," says the new girl, Emilie.

Somehow, it feels good to know that your relationship is making someone jealous. Hyunjin places another kiss on your cheek before leaving for the bathroom.

"Let's be a throuple," Emilie says as she sits on Saskia's chair.

"A sincere relationship with three people," she explains as if you don't know what it means.

You almost broke up with him when you knew he almost kissed another girl and what makes her think that you'll be okay sharing Hyunjin with her? You give her a pass because she's new so you awkwardly chuckle in response.

-

YOU: Back off, girl. I'm not into this throuple business.

-

It's a real party when everyone is getting along well and having fun.

The talk seems to be a success with Vic looking so much better, she's back to her chipper mood and she's dancing with Edouard. On the other hand, you sense that things between her and Saskia are not doing that well but at least, they're staying civil to each other now.

Putting drama aside, you and Hyunjin are doing better than ever. You trust each other more now and your connection is getting stronger, the next plan is to show true growth in your relationship to earn a green light.

Hyunjin hoists you against his body until your feet are off the ground, you hurriedly cling to him by putting your arms around his shoulders and your legs around his waist.

"Is this how we're going to do it?" You jokingly ask with a sly grin on your face and your hand massages the nape of his neck.

"In front of everybody? Yeah, that's the idea," he playfully responds.

The fun time has to end with Lana being a party pooper as usual. Everyone knows what to do when the chime comes, heading to the cabana like animals about to get slaughtered. Considering that she crashed the party, she'd better have some good news for the group.

"Hi, Lana. Do you have another movie?" Diego jokingly asks.

"Do you want her to show yours?" Edie pokes fun at him.

Lana skips the casual greeting and goes straight into the talk, you hate whenever that happens because it means she's not pleased with something. But everyone has been behaving well, especially after that huge blow to the prize money at the boat party.

"I see how you talk a lot about finding a connection but I also see that some of you do little about it," Lana says.

There's still hope that this going to turn out well and you cling to that hope.

"Connecting is not necessarily trying to be a couple, but opening up to the process and being aware that mistakes are part of any learning process."

Everyone stays quiet, no one is saying anything but intently listening to what Lana says to know where this talk leads.

"Getting it wrong is one thing. Giving up on the process is another. And that can no longer continue to happen here on my retreat."

"Y-yeah?" Edie stammers, sensing that Lana is onto something, something unpleasant.

"I detected some of you have a lack of interest in new connections. Therefore I need to continue my work here without the presence of some people."

It's only a minute ago you thought about how you need to show growth in your relationship and now you're worried that you haven't done enough. Your hand immediately grabs Hyunjin's as you close your eyes, anxious.

"Two of you must leave the retreat tonight," Lana announces.

-

YOU: And we thought we'd get good news [exhales]

-

The tension in the room heightens as Lana is about to announce the two people being sent home tonight.

Hyunjin is nervous and so is everyone because, at this point, it could be anyone. Lana sees everything and he admits that he hasn't shown enough progress which puts him at risk of leaving the retreat.

"One of you has spoken many times about being a closed-off person, and couldn't see how the retreat would change that," Lana explains the reason why she chose this person.

Hyunjin can think of someone who fits that description, he turns his head to the side where Marie is sitting and she kind of guesses who it is as well.

"The second person I'm eliminating tried opening up to the process at first but it seems that they lost focus on the purpose of the retreat," Lana gives another explanation on the reason why she sent home the second person.

For this one, Hyunjin can't tell who it is but he prays inside that it's not him. He hopes that Lana gives him so more time to continue building this connection with you.

"Therefore, their stay at this retreat has come to an end."

He slowly inhales air and quietly lets it out while continuously wishing that Lana would not call his name.

"Exiting the retreat tonight are..."

He sees no one is feeling safe either because no one wants to go home yet.

"...Pablo and Marie."

He feels relieved that it's not him but it doesn't make him feel good either knowing that someone else has to go. He gets up from his seat to give Pablo and Marie a farewell hug for he found friendship in them.

"Pablo and Marie, it's time for you to leave the retreat," Lana orders.

Everyone standing up to send them off with a wave goodbye and sending well wishes their way.

Tonight started fun and it turned into the opposite in a flip of a switch, but that's life, we never know what's going to happen next.

What Hyunjin knows is that he's grateful that he's still here. He rests his head on your neck as the two of you lie on the bed still dressed in your party costumes, he puts his arm across your chest and pulls you close.

"I'm happy we still have each other," he softly whispers to you.

You endearingly brush his head and place a sweet peck on his forehead, "Me too, baby."

Lana has given him more time in the retreat when it could have been him going home tonight and for that, he feels grateful because he's not ready to go, he can't even imagine himself leaving you.

-

HYUNJIN: It's been hard, but at the same time, I... understand the situation.

-

This morning is the same as like other morning in the retreat.

The lights are on as a wake-up call for everyone at the same time every day. You wake up and see Hyunjin the moment you open your eyes, you give him a morning kiss on the cheek.

You run your hand through his hair and softly greet him, "Morning, baby."

He smiles in response and mumbles, "Morning."

He takes your hand, puts it around him, and leans in to make a trail of kisses on your inner arm, continuing it to your shoulder and neck.

"Morning, fam!" Edie cheerfully greets everyone in the room who is still stuck in their beds.

"It's crazy that sometimes I can see this mole of yours and sometimes I don't," you say in bewilderment as your index finger poked the faint mole under his left eye.

He closes his eyes and blissfully smiles at you, "Want to hear something crazier?"

"Yeah. What?"

"You're getting sexier and sexier every day," he answers while squeezing the flesh on your waist.

"Ouch!" You yelp in pain but that only encourages him to tighten his hold around you.

It's a peaceful morning until someone recognizes what is missing in this room.

"Wait, where's Lana?" Frida asks.

You scramble to turn on the bed to see the cone is missing from its usual place, she usually sits prettily on the small round table in the corner of the room but she's not there.

"Shit! Lana's gone," Edie says, her mouth stays open.

You exchange a glance with Hyunjin but he's also befuddled with Lana's sudden disappearance, well, a staff probably took the cone away while we were asleep but there must be a reason they're doing it.

"We're always in a throuple with her so it's weird Lana is not here when we wake up," Saskia says while cuddling with Remy on their bed.

"She's out on a date with Siri," Andy jokingly says with a satisfied laugh.

"Maybe Lana prepared breakfast for us," Diego wildly guesses, "she's in the kitchen being Lana Ramsey."

Everyone laughs at that one but it starts to get serious when everyone is getting their breakfast and Lana is not there, Andy goes to check the cabana just in case someone misplaced her.

"She's not there either," Andy returns with an answer.

"Do we have to find her?" Gustav confoundedly asks, not knowing what to do since he's still new in this retreat.

"Just don't make us dig sand to find her, please?" Edie grumbles, getting flashbacks from that first day we arrived at the villa.

"Do you think Lana's disappearance is good or bad for us?" Edouard asks, curious about what everyone thinks of it.

"Maybe she needs some time alone, guys," Saskia coyly says with a glass of orange juice in her hand.

Everyone comes up with various theories about Lana's disappearance and they react differently to it, some are nervous, a few are excited and the rest are a mix of both.

"Oh no, she's not here either," Emilie whines as she looks around searching for the cone in the dressing room.

"Maybe she's tired of us?" Frida coyly says, plopping onto her usual seat at the vanity table.

Vic hands you a bottle of sunspray and turns her back to you, "As long as she doesn't take the money with her, I'm cool," she says.

You turn on your chair to help her spray her backside evenly and make sure you don't miss a spot, you've been doing a very good job at it considering that her skin remains pale while everyone else has gotten tan lines.

"I think Lana is watching us from afar you know when you leave kids by themselves to see if they're going to misbehave or not?" Saskia comes up with another theory.

Her theory is the most plausible one, it's Lana we're talking about, just because she isn't there doesn't mean she's not watching. She wasn't there during the boat party yet she knew everything that happened.

"She probably sitting in the control room laughing at us right now," Edie jokes.

However, the scariest part of this is not the disappearance but what will happen with Lana not around to keep everyone's behavior?

-

YOU: This can't be good. She's just gone like that?

-

Wait, is everything allowed now?

With Lana disappearing this can only mean that the rules no longer exist as well and that gets Hyunjin excited. He's been good all these times so he thinks he deserves, at least, a little something for his good behavior.

"Lana is gone. The rules are off," Hyunjin mutters as he styles his hair next to Diego in the bathroom.

Diego chuckles and sprays some hairspray into his hair, "I don't know, man, I think that's a bad idea," he disagrees with him.

"Why don't we kiss to test the water?" Hyunjin boldly suggests.

Diego shoves him to the side in reaction to his crazy idea, he gets it that he's been careful with Frida ever since they got the green light. He then leaves the bathroom only for Edouard to come and take his spot.

"Lana's gone. What does that mean?"

Hyunjin's question is not merely a question, it's a test to find out which side Edouard is on: the side that wants to break the rules or the other side that thinks Lana is still watching.

"There's no rule, bro. Know what I mean?" Edouard says with a devilish grin as he combs his hair to the back.

This is the energy that Hyunjin seeks from someone and he feels more confident now knowing he's sharing the same brainwave with someone in this retreat, an accomplice to his mischief.

"Bro, I'm definitely breaking the rules tonight," Hyunjin boldly remarks with a wild, wide grin.

"Been holding it in for so long," Edouard says in continuation of Hyunjin's remark.

"This is going to be a mad night!" Hyunjin concludes with a wicked grin on his face. He raises both hands in the air at Edouard and claps their hands together for double high fives.

Tonight, Hyunjin wants to do a lot of things with you and he'll make sure that it's going to happen.

-

HYUNJIN: My plan for tonight is to give her the best night of her life [smirks]

-

"As soon as I found out Lana's gone, everything I learned from the retreat has gone out of the window," Vic openly admits.

The dressing room is buzzing and the girls are exceptionally energized tonight, maybe it's the fact that the cock-blocker is nowhere in sight. Vic's words are true, it feels like everyone is back to their default settings and forgot about the purpose of the retreat.

"Okay, but out of all of the boys, who is most likely to break the rules tonight?" Emilie curiously asks while swinging her mascara wand in the air.

"Pfft... I hope it's Edouard," Vic mumbles.

Edie smacks her lips together then places her hand on your forehand, "To be honest, I think it's Hyunjin," she says, sticking her face at you.

"Oh, yeah," Saskia agrees with an exclamation mark drawn on her face.

Frida chuckles and glares at you, "You better be satisfied tonight 'cause if you ain't, girl..."

"You'll be satisfied tonight," Edie teases you with a sing-song tone while shaking your shoulders.

Their assumption is only making you nervous because of how it comes close to the truth. Hyunjin is and has been ogling at you. Not that he never ogled at you before, he does it more often today and it's not hard to read his mind when he's acting like that the whole day.

Hyunjin chooses the firepit to spend some alone time with you, he makes you sit on his lap even though the sofa could fit seven people. You don't have to second guess everything, you know exactly what he's trying to do.

"Are you alright?" He asks, splaying the hand resting on the small of your back.

"I'm feeling good, babe," you reply with a convincing smile and hope it's enough to hide how nervous you are inside.

His other hand rubs down your thigh and plays with the hem of your skirt, all the while he's putting on this gaze that is soft yet intense and lustful.

"You look very, very cute," he compliments.

He touches the strap of your top and then your hair, "Cute dress, cute smile, cute everything."

Wow! He really is trying hard to win you over and put that sweet mouth to use, and you need to toughen up more.

"Thanks. You look gorgeous," you compliment back.

Hyunjin is wearing a plain white shirts and leaves the top three buttons open, exposing his firm chest muscles and soft skin, inviting you to touch.

Instead of giving in to your intrusive thoughts, you start buttoning his shirts.

"Why are you buttoning up my shirts?" He asks while chuckling.

"So you don't get cold," you simply answer with a suppressed laugh.

He ends up unbuttoning them again and parts the opening of his shirt wider to entice you more. You look away to keep your composure and look back at him when get yourself under control.

But Hyunjin steps up his game, he mixes his sweet words with some physical touches, weakening your defense system with each passing second.

He brushes your hair to the side and holds it there, "You know I never thought I'd meet somebody like you. You're such a lovely person," he mutters to you.

You reach for his hand and put it down, you're holding it on your lap after.

"That's very sweet of you," you reply with a smile.

He brings your hand to his mouth and then places a soft kiss on your knuckles, reminding you of how plush his lips are.

If this keeps going, you don't know how long you can restrain yourself.

-

YOU: I'm not sure if Lana's testing us, but I'm going to try really hard to not break the rules.

-

Hyunjin knows which side you're in.

You don't want to break rules while Hyunjin is doing exactly the opposite of that. He can see your defense is up, you're a little rigid, you're being cautious with everything you do, and trying so hard not to fall to his charms.

It's a good thing that Hyunjin has a lot of charms and a strong will to crack your defense. He did it once, he just needs to do it again, except that he needs to do it better this time.

He swipes his thumb across your lips and does it carefully to not smudge your lipstick.

"I miss kissing you," he says in his low, sultry voice, "I want to feel those soft lips again."

You nervously chuckle and slip your hand into the hair on the back of his head, "We've known each other better and I don't think we need to put pressure on ourselves to do anything," you tell him.

Hyunjin drops his other hand to your leg, resting it on the back of your thigh and lightly rubbing the skin with his thumb.

"We could do something," he says with a low laugh, "We can break the rules tonight. Like... why waste the opportunity?"

You chuckle again, tilting your head to the side, away from him to put a safe space between you and him. But, he only needs to close that safe space so he leans in.

"A little kiss, come on," he sweetly whispers.

You cup his jaw and fondly smile at him, "I'm rather suspicious that this is actually a test," you say.

He playfully pinches the skin on the back of your thigh and seductively smiles, "Just a bit of fun. No one will find out," he assures you.

He gets a move on by planting kisses on your neck, fluttering little kisses that he's sure make you tingling inside. He puts his hand on the nape of your neck so he can angle your head as he pleases.

He tilts your head to the side and presses his mouth to your ear, "You're so special to me."

He notices that you're slowly lowering your guard down, your eyes are fluttering shut and your hand helplessly gripping the front of his shirt. All it takes is a bit more of his charm.

"You're my special, special, special," he places a kiss along your jaw every time he repeats that one word.

"Special girl," he murmurs for the last time and then he crashes his lips against you

There is no way you will say no to his kiss, not when he kisses you so passionately, lathering your lips with his, soft on soft, slowly and tenderly.

He pries open your mouth with his tongue to taste you more, he uses his teeth to gently bite your lips and puts his hand in the right place to gain access to deepen the kiss.

You break the kiss first and immediately gasp for air, the next thing you do is wipe the lipstick mark around his mouth.

"Does the color look good on me?" He playfully asks.

"Yeah," you shortly reply.

"Put some more then," he teases.

This is only the first rule break of many and it's already a success.

-

HYUNJIN: Told you, Hwang Hyunjin always gets what he wants [nonchalantly shrugs]

-

Now that he's already got what he wants, you hope it's enough for him.

Honestly, you didn't know how you also needed that until he kissed you. You stay in the firepit while everyone else is starting to turn in for the night and the two of you are the only ones still outside.

He brushes your hair, putting it away from your face, and holds your head in his hands like you're a fragile object.

"Should we do something else?" He jokingly asks.

Gosh. You hope he's not seriously asking to do more than a kiss. You pretend to not hear it and take his hands in yours.

"It's getting late," you tell him with a pout and half-shut eyes, showing him that you're getting drowsy even though you're not.

He gently rubs your chin and softly asks, "Want to head inside?"

You nod and smile, "Mm-hmm."

It's a relief that Hyunjin stops trying, you feel like you can properly breathe now as you get off his lap. He gets up from the sofa too and leads the way back to the villa.

You may have failed not breaking the rules but you've tried your best to show some restraint until Hyunjin stops by the terrace and turns his head to the side.

"Want to check the suite first?" He asks.

You nervously chuckle and jokingly ask, "Is it even open?"

Your words only encourage him to take you there and check it. You deeply wish the suite is locked or else, you don't have any other reasons not to get in there with him.

To your dismay, the suite is unlocked.

Hyunjin opens the door and lets you in first. The suite looks exactly like the last time you've seen it, except, there's no chilled champagne, no rose petals on the bed and it's dim with no lit candles in sight.

He closes the door behind him and then goes straight to the bed, sitting on the end of the bed with his legs spreading open.

You're nervous to even get close to him, afraid of what it would lead to. You stand in between his legs, not sure what to do in this enclosed space with him.

Hyunjin puts his hands on each side of your waist and pulls you close, he then buries his head in your chest. You both stay like that for a moment with you softly scratching his head.

He then lifts his head and looks up at you, "I want it to do it," he straightforwardly says.

He loops his arms around your waist and closes the gap between your bodies, "Do you want to do it?"

You don't want to be a hypocrite by saying no when the truth is you want it, you want it so bad that you don't want to resist anymore.

"I do," you honestly answer.

"But it's a big decision," you add with a thin smile.

With Hyunjin, you know you want more than just casually dating each other, you want this to be a genuine relationship, and in a genuine relationship, having sex means taking a step further into a more established relationship.

"You know how I feel about you so let me show you that," he says.

He slightly rises from the bed just to place a kiss on your jaw, "I'm only waiting for you to say the word," he says.

The moment you step into the suite, you know that you've made up your mind and honestly, you're tired of pretending like you can resist him.

You take a deep breath and hold his head in your face, you look into his eyes to seek assurance that you're ready for the next step.

Instead of using words, you plant your lips on him and let your kisses answer it for you.

-

YOU: How am I going to resist Hyunjin?

-

Hyunjin wastes not another second, he takes your top off, exposing your half-naked body to him and he gladly buries his head in between your breasts. He takes one into his mouth while the other one is being fondled by his big hand with his fingers circling your nipple.

"Baby, be gentle, please?" You whine when he accidentally sucks too harder.

He keeps your words in mind but sometimes his body won't obey his commands, it's like it has a mind of its own, a mind that is so hungry for you and only knows a lot of ways to devour you.

He lifts your leg, making you straddle him to satisfy his need for closeness. He crashes his lips against yours again and again yet, can't get enough of it.

Without him knowing, you manage to undo all of the buttons on his shirt and he helps by getting rid of it for you, hurriedly tosses it aside so he can hold you again.

"You never cease to amaze me, baby," he tells you before roughly leaning in to kiss you again.

It's quiet in the room except for the sounds of his lips placing kisses all over you. Your skirt is all hunched up around your waist, your hands are cupping your breasts and Hyunjin keeps going down south, continuing the trail of kisses to your feet.

He then kneels on the bed and looks down at you, his dark lustful eyes traveling down your body, making him realize that you still have your skirt on.

He tugs his fingers on the waistband of your skirt and softly he says, "Raise your hips for me, baby."

You obey right away, raising your hips high enough to let Hyunjin pull your skirt down and off your legs, leaving you with nothing but lacy underwear, the fabric is so thin he can see through it, the thing that endlessly tantalizes him.

He grabs both of your legs, holding them close to his chest before parting them open. He turns his head to the side, bringing your ankle close to his mouth to kiss it. He doesn't stop there, the kisses continue to your inner thighs.

Hyunjin doesn't bother to remove it first, he dives right into your clothed cunt, his greedy mouth full of your flesh and your underwear soaked wet from his saliva.

He's enjoying, enjoying it so much that he puts your underwear to the side so he can taste you better, his slick tongue and his soft lips drenched in your wetness.

He can hear you moaning but it's somewhat muffled, he pulls away for a moment and looks at you between your legs.

"Moan louder for me, baby. I can't hear you with my head between your thighs."

Well, the only way he can make you moan louder is by pushing the right button. He adds his fingers to the combination, giving you the utmost pleasure by moving them in sync.

You keep arching your back and grinding at his mouth, enough to tell him that he only needs to continue his delightful assault to get you to your release.

"Baby, oh..." your voice cracks as your eyes screwed shut, overwhelmed with pleasure.

He kisses your inner thigh as he watches your cunt soaking wet with a mix of your essence and his saliva, but it's your gushing hole that makes him impatient to be inside you.

"Why are you so good with your mouth?" You ask in awe, half panting from all the moaning.

Well, Hyunjin takes pride in his prowess at giving head and it gives a boost of confidence to show you what else he's good at. He pulls the duvet until it covers both of your bodies so as to not expose yourselves to the cameras installed in the room.

Under the cover, he manages to take your underwear off without looking and plays with your bundle of nerves after, feeling it swelling and pulsating under his touch.

"I'm good with my hands too," he says.

You shyly smile and pull him for a kiss, but you show him you want the other thing. You put your hand inside his jeans and his boxer altogether, easily finding his hard cock and wrapping your hand around it.

"So hard. So big," you breathlessly murmur against his lips.

"So ready to be inside you," he finishes your sentence.

You crack a laugh and peck his lips, "Well, what are you waiting for?"

It's good to know he's not the only one being impatient here, but first, he has to get rid of his jeans and put

"Give me a minute to get a condom on," he gives you a peck before rolling to the side of the bed.

He sits on the edge of the bed, rummaging through the small drawers on the bedside table to find a condom, and then takes his jeans off. He unwraps the foil wrapper and carefully rolls the rubber down his length, it's not hard to do so when he's fully erect and it's all because of you.

Once he makes sure he properly put the condom on, he climbs onto the bed and gets under the duvet with you, arms instantly wrapped around you.

The only fear that still lingers in him is that he won't last long considering that he's been refrained from any sexual activities for these past couple weeks. What if he cum the second he put himself inside you? He wants to make the first time having sex with you a special moment, not a humiliating one.

"I want to do it with you," you tell him out of the blue.

It's as if you heard his mind, you assure him that this is what you and there's no pressure whatsoever, you merely want to do it with him.

"And I want to do it with you," he says back with a soft smile on his small face.

You put your hands around his neck and pull him for a kiss, "Let's do it together."

In that moment, Hyunjin gets hit by the realization that everything else doesn't matter. What matters is this moment with you.

He kisses you, fueling himself for what he's about to do next, and while brushing your hair to the side, he says, "I'm going in, yeah?"

You nod with a smile, permitting him to enter the most sacred part of your body.

It's tricky to keep the duvet from sliding off of him as he kneels on the bed again, he then takes your legs and parts them open. He starts by repeatedly rubbing his length against your slit, using your bodily fluid as a lubricant.

With the reminder to be gentle, he uses his tip to tease your entrance before slowly easing himself inside, little by little. You're breathlessly moaning as you keep taking his length so well that Hyunjin can only watch as his cock disappeared into you with your mouth agape.

The only time his eyes stray away from your cunt is to see you moaning with your eyes closed and your hands squeezing your breasts.

A moan slips past his mouth when he is fully sheathed inside your warm, velvety walls and he's not ashamed of it. He keeps groaning as the pleasure of being inside you gets to him, sending his brain close to short-circuit.

He glides his hand up your front and holds the hand cupping your left breast, "Do you see that, baby?"

Hyunjin is eyeing his cock fully buried inside you to the hilt, the image is being imprinted in the back of his head as he thinks out loud.

"I look so perfect inside you, don't you think?"

You nod in a way that is innocent but arousing at the same time which reminds him of how much he wants to ruin you.

He rubs his hand up and down your inner thigh, admiring the view of your body and how it's connected with him.

"You feel so good," he lowly mutters.

He glides his hand up to your chest and kneads on your breast, "I think I need a moment."

Hyunjin takes a minute to adjust himself inside you, how good it feels to be wrapped in your warmth, tight walls, and the way you clench and unclench around him in the slightest of movement.

He kisses you hard and deep to finally start moving and feeling his cock launches deeper and deeper for every thrust into you.

He keeps kissing you and when he's not, moans keep spilling out of your mouth, and calling his name in between those moans. Your bodies eventually move in sync and work together to chase that release.

When Hyunjin finally snaps, he has a moment of clarity. He couldn't believe that he managed to not do it the last time he was here, he had that much restraint in him but now, all bets are off and he's fully aware that it's his biggest gamble yet.

-

HYUNJIN: Best believe, I'm going all in tonight.

-

The next morning, Lana is still no-show.

You know she'll be back at some point but you feel a little relieved that she hasn't, you don't want to deal with that yet. You still want to live in this bubble together with Hyunjin.

"Good morning, angel baby," he sweetly whispers into your ear as he spoons you from behind.

You giggle as he places ticklish kisses on your bare shoulder and neck. He holds you close as he rests his head in the crook of your neck to get a little extra sleep.

The two of you returned late from the suite and sneaked into the bedroom while everyone else had fallen asleep. You see that no one is suspecting anything but Lana's sinister disappearance.

"Lana, girl, how long are you going to hide?" Frida asks while twisting her curly hair and securing it with a hair claw.

Thinking about Lana gets you a little uneasy, you break away from Hyunjin's hold and sit on the bed, offering your lap to let him rest his head on.

He gladly does that, resting his head on your lap and putting your hand in his hair, asking you to play with his dark, silky locks.

"Lana is not running away with our money, right?" Andy asks in a panic.

It's funny that he puts a sense of ownership over it when it's no one's money in the first place, and Lana has the right to run away with the money if she wants to.

"Did anyone break the rules last night though?" Diego asks around, scanning the room with his eyes.

Everyone is playing innocent, shaking their heads or completely ignoring the question like you and Hyunjin did. Avoiding it doesn't mean you're not free of guilt, it's there and it's pooling in the pit of your stomach, making you feel faint.

After lunch, you share the hammock with Hyunjin, simply enjoying each other's presence and the beautiful view of the sea.

"Last night felt like a dream," he says out of the blue.

You get butterflies whenever you recall moments from last night and you find yourself smiling like a fool, "Yeah."

The memories are still fresh in your brain, you remember every detail from the way he looked at you, touched you, kissed you, where he put his hand on your body, and oh... just everything.

He puts his arm around you and puts his head against yours, "I didn't regret doing it with you. It was special to me," he tells you.

"You made me feel special," you sincerely tell him because that's what he made you feel last night: nothing less than special.

"Last night, we took a big step in our relationship," he says.

You nod in agreement.

"Whatever happens, we're in it together," he says, pressing a kiss on your temple.

Of course, he knows that you need comfort and assurance, that's why he said those words. You gently hold his jaw and place a tender kiss on his cheek.

"We're in it together," you repeat his words back to him with a smile.

Hyunjin is right, whatever happens, you shouldn't be afraid because you're not alone, you're in it together with him.

When you walk back to the villa, Andy comes running toward the two of you, his blond hair bouncing on his head.

"What's going on?" You ask him.

"It's Lana. She's back," Andy answers.

-

YOU: I knew it was all too good to be true [exhales]

-

"Anxiety is back, my friend," Edouard shouts as he takes a seat on the curved sofa.

No shit. Your legs are shaking, your hands are sweating and you press your lips together so that it forms a thin line on your face. Even with Hyunjin sitting next to you, you can't seem to relax.

"Even though my conscience is clear, I'm tense," Frida says then lets out a sigh.

The cone is there on the table and she's quietly glaring at you. When she chimes, you almost jump on your seat.

Everyone is gasping in response to her return, even though you know no one is expecting she will be back this soon.

"Hello, everyone," Lana starts with her usual greeting.

"Hi, Lana," you weakly reply with your knee bouncing against the floor.

"Yesterday, I disappeared from the villa to test how you would behave when left to your own devices. Just as you will be in the real world after my retreat," Lana explains.

You do not like where this is going but you have nowhere to go either, you have to face the music.

"Despite my absence, my sensors kept monitoring your every move," Lana further reveals.

"I knew it!" Diego exclaims, triumphantly fisting the air.

Emilie shakes her head and sighs, "It was all too good to be true.

Your guess is not off the mark either, you were right that this was all just a test from Lana and you clearly failed.

"I am very disappointed to report that there were several breaches of the rules," Lana informs.

This is where the witch hunt begins, everyone is looking at each other and trying to spot any guilty faces. Somehow, you manage to keep a straight face despite your heart beating out of your chest.

"Anyone want to start?" Diego asks.

You see Remy and Saskia are glancing at each other and then she turns her head to face everyone again.

"We had a kiss," Saskia comes clean.

"We had a chat, we got carried on. Just once, I swear," Remy explains the details and ends it with a sincere apology.

"There was another breach of the rules," Lana will not stop exposing the rule breakers until they come out with the truth.

Remy and Saskia had it easy because it was their first time breaking the rule and it was only just a kiss. You can't compare it to what you've done with Hyunjin.

"We also kissed, Edouard and I," Vic immediately admits, not holding back from telling everyone about it.

"I just thought that the rules were off," Edouard coyly explains, but the grin on his face tells otherwise.

"Told you, Lana was watching the whole time," Andy tells him.

"I'm sorry," Edouard quickly apologizes to end the conversation.

"The prize fund now stands at $48,000," Lana updates the current amount of prize money.

Everyone must think that's the end of it, that no one else breaking the rules and losing $12,000 is the worst anyone could have done to the prize fund.

You hate to break it to them but they haven't heard the worst of it, you look at Hyunjin and he's pinching at his lower lip which is something he does whenever he's nervous.

"However, there was an additional, serious breach of the rules," Lana further reveals.

-

YOU: I don't know what's coming but Hyunjin and I might be in some trouble.

-

Hyunjin knows he's got to be a big boy and owns up to his mistake. Also, he can't stand seeing you all tense and anxious next to him.

Before it gets messy and uncomfortable for everyone, he leans forward in his seat and starts talking.

"Last night, we... uh," Hyunjin couldn't find any words that would help him soften the blow.

He takes a deep breath and tries again, "Last night we took a step further—"

He gets cut off as everyone else starts groaning in response, knowing the rest of the sentence without him needing to finish it. A few of them seem to have expected this to happen and most of them are disappointed in him.

"This is all my fault, I messed up and I do feel bad," he sincerely says.

He looks at everyone, each and every one of them eye to eye, then with all of his heart, he apologizes.

"I'm sorry," he earnestly says.

"You yet again failed to show any form of restraint and broke the ultimate rule of my retreat, sexual intercourse," Lana says.

Hyunjin didn't think that it would hit him this hard, he may have said he did not regret what he did last night but he regretted acting so selfishly.

"There was $48,000 in the prize fund but because of your numerous rule breaks last night, your prize fund is now at $0," Lana finally drops the shocking news.

There's no money left in the pot anymore and it is all his fault, he understands if everyone is disappointed in him or even hates him for it. He deserves it.

"The prize fund is at $0. However, there will be more tests and opportunities to replenish the prize fund," Lana suddenly shares uplifting news.

It's very rare for her to share good news after bad ones and the mood turns a little lighter, everyone is cheering and applauding for the good news.

"Yes, Lana!" Diego exclaims while clapping his hands together.

"Now I need everyone on their best behavior!" Frida scolds everyone.

But as we all know, happiness is fleeting because Lana hasn't finished with the announcement yet.

"But not for all of you."

Everyone knows what that means and it means she's going to send someone home. He hates to admit it but he has a feeling that Lana is going to send you and him out of here.

"Oh, my days!" Edie whines, fanning her face as she gets red all over from holding her tears.

"No, please, Lana," Saskia hopelessly begs at the cone.

His thought somehow manifests into reality as Lana calls both of your names and his heart drops to his stomach.

"Please stand up!" Lana orders.

Hyunjin can't even feel the ground beneath him as he gets up from the sofa and takes a stand, he puts his arm around you and holds you close, providing you comfort even though he knows you're just as anxious as him.

"As a couple, you have broken the most rules but one of you has shown more disregard for the rules than the other. And that person will be going home," Lana announces.

"Oh, my god," Edie whines again, burying her face in her hands.

"The person leaving the retreat is..."

Deep down, Hyunjin knows that Lana is sending him home, he looks at you and holds you tighter. He can see that you know that he knows.

"...Hyunjin."

-

HYUNJIN: At the end of the day, you can only point one finger and that's at me.

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[bellawrites-kinda]

a change in rules ; l.h.

summary: we all know the FIA allowed lewis to wear his earrings and nose ring during his races, but what if him saying that he has another piercing somewhere else wasn’t a joke?

pairing: lewis hamilton x fem!reader

warnings: 18+ smut/nsfw, oral sex ( f receiving ), unprotected sex, size kink kinda, breeding kink ( ? ), a lil bit of possessiveness if you squint

word count: 1132

a/n: i saw a tiktok ab this & went to google a bit about it and like

he did say it was a joke but yknow... what if !? also it does say that he wanted them to think that he had his balls pierced but i'm thinking more of a dick piercing like at his tip so... also this is pretty bad, i'm kinda new to writing but i tried !! so yeah i hope y'all like it, constructive criticism is appreciated 🫶🏼

-

you traced the outline of his tattoos, the dim lighting of your shared room making them ever so prominent. i love your tattoos so much, and your piercings too hands trailing down to rest on his toned abs, you focused your attention back on him

he smiled at you, and you felt the swarm of butterflies appear in your stomach. despite having been together for a year now, you always found yourself getting flustered over everything he did, from complimenting you, to merely going about his daily activities. he was your everything, and you were his.

i’m glad you like them he broke the silence, moving to press his lips against the skin of your neck i want to get more piercings, but i don’t think the FIA would be particularly fond of that, so his voice trailed off, now sucking on your neck lew... i thought you said you were tired- your voice cut off as you inhaled sharply, back arching off the bed slightly at his unrelenting mouth harshly sucking on your skin. he seemed desperate, desperate to mark you as his.

i missed you so much, baby. he murmured, voice low. missed your smile, missed your pretty face, missed this gorgeous body of yours, i missed all of you. the admission made your head spin, and you felt arousal flood your senses.

baby... we can do this tomorrow, it's late, you just got back, you need rest. you tried to stop him as his hands smoothed over the skin of your hips, the skimpy nightgown riding up. i've gone months without you, love, i can't take it anymore, please the desperation in his raspy voice was your downfall, stripping yourself of the nightgown and pulling him into a heated kiss. fuck.. you're so pretty he almost groaned as he positioned himself above you. your eyes rolled back as he kissed his way down your body, pressing wet, hot kisses on the inside of your thighs.

enough teasing lew, please you whined, getting impatient. please what baby, what do you want me to do he asked cockily, want you to eat me out, please you were practically begging. god, the effect this man had on you, the control he had over your body.

so polite he chuckled, before he shoved his head between your thighs, a few stray braids falling to frame his face. a high pitched moan left your throat as he sucked on your clit the same way he did your neck. fuck, yes, right there your eyes screwed shut as he slipped two fingers into you.

the combination of his mouth and fingers was heavenly, and considering you'd gone 2 whole months without feeling his touch, you were close already. baby, 'm close you managed to pant out in between moans.

your eyes flew open as he pulled away. want you to come on my cock he murmured, licking his fingers clean. you sat up, hands moving to pull his boxer-briefs off, his cock slapping his abs gently. you practically drooled as you wrapped your hand around the base. but what you saw was something you definitely didn't expect. your mouth fell open as you reached to gently smooth your finger over his pierced tip. you like it? he asked tentatively. i fucking love it, lew. oh my god you were breathless, awestuck by the way the piercing made his pretty cock even prettier.

you're so fucking hot my god... you praised before wrapping your lips around his tip, the cool metal of the piercing coming into contact with your tongue. but before you could take him deeper into your mouth, he'd pulled you off. need to be inside you he explained hastily as he practically manhandled you so that you were once again laying under him.

oh fuck the groan that left his lips as he pushed into you was nothing short of filthy. so fucking tight he breathed. fuck lew, please, i need more. you couldn't recognise your own voice, your brain was foggy from the pleasure coursing through your veins. he obliged, cock easily slipping all the way in you. he paused momentarily, giving you time to adjust to the sheer size of him.

you wrapped yourself around his body, hands resting on his back, legs wrapping around his waist and pulling him closer. a silent request for him to start moving. his thrusts were fast and hard, slamming his cock deep into you, and pulling out, leaving only his tip in you before slamming back in again.

the sounds the two of you were making was nothing short of filthy. your moans and his groans, the sound of skin against skin. you clenched around him when his fingers circled your clit harshly. lew i'm close, you gasped out. come for me baby, come all over my cock. his voice was strained. your walls spasmed as you came, back arching off the bed.

even then, he didn't stop, his thrusts only getting faster. his free hand moved to grab your hip, his grip so tight you were sure there would be a bruise there tomorrow. a sharp gasp left you as he lifted your hips slightly, the change in angle only making him slip even deeper into you.

you close again already princess? i can feel you clenching around me. he chuckled, a hint of mock lacing his voice. you couldn't form words anymore, anything you tried to say came out as a moan or a whine. i've got you baby, just let go he soothed. you could feel his movements faltering as they became sloppier.

want.. want you to cum in me you managed to stutter out. yeah? you want me to breed you? fuck a baby into you? you only managed a nod in response before you felt ropes of his warm cum fill you up, the sensation triggering your own orgasm. your walls clenched tightly around his cock, milking his cock dry.

your body was limp as he pulled out of you, lying beside you. so, when did you get it the question slipped out as soon as you'd caught your breath. i've been thinking about it for a while, got it a month and a half ago he chuckled. what happened to the FIA not being happy, hm? you teased i don't care if they like it or not, i mean, if they stop me from racing because of it, then so be it. you smiled at his response, wrapping your arms around him and shutting your eyes.

you do like it, right? he questioned nervously after some time. i love it. you reassured, pressing a kiss to the piercing on his nose. he only hummed, cuddling closer to you as the both of you slipped into a deep sleep.

[miupow]

for kinktober!! husband tyun punishing reader my spanking her! <3

𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑 ‘24 ── 𝐓𝐀𝐄𝐇𝐘𝐔𝐍 + 𝐒𝐏𝐀𝐍𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆

𝜗𝜚 ㅤ― 󠀬󠀬[ minors do not interact! ] kang taehyun x fem!reader . non-idol au , marriage au , mean dom!taehyun , punishments , spanking , possibly toxic marriage/gender dynamics , dirty talk , discipline , semi-public sex , slight exhibitionism , pussy slapping , anal fingering (f. rec) , buttplug mention , voyeurism mention

a/n ⸝⸝ oh bastard husband taehyun my beloved….

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

“i said count, honey. don’t make me tell you again.”

swiftly, another ear-ringing slap descended upon your stinging asscheek, right over where he had struck you last — you bite your lip to keep in your shriek, all too conscious of the droning chatter coming out of the adjacent dining room.

“one, thank you, sir!” you squeak— you know your husband’s rules by heart, and while that had been technically your second spanking, you knew better than to count the one that you hadn’t properly thanked him for.

“good girl,” taehyun coos, his sweet low voice laced with a condescending edge that made your pussy leak. “finally listening for once. now tell me what you’re being punished for when you thank me for disciplining you. i need to make sure this punishment gets through your dumb, empty little head.”

he rubs gently at the blossoming bruises on your ass before he rears his hand back to strike you again, the sharp clap of his palm against your ass deafening in your ears. you were certain that taehyun’s colleagues could all hear from the table, your face burning with shame at the thought of them knowing that your husband was punishing you in just the room over.

“t-two, daddy, sir— thank you, i was being a slut—“

another spank, harder and louder than before. you barely manage to contain your scream, choking on a strangled whimper as you blink away tears. “how were you being a slut?” taehyun asks, so nonchalant and casual like he was simply going through paperwork. while his carefully crafted facade infuriated you to no end, you reveled in the feeling of the growing bulge in his slacks rubbing up against your tummy.

“three—! thank you, daddy!” you warble, trying to hide your face in taehyun’s pant leg. “i was f-flirting with your friends, a-and letting them touch me—“

taehyun stops to adjust your dress before he spanks you again, expensive fabric bunched around your waist to expose your bare ass and pussy. your lace panties were pooled around your ankles, trapping your legs together as you bucked and squirmed over your husband’s lap.

“four!” you all but shout— you would cover your mouth if your wrists weren’t being held behind your back by taehyun’s free hand. “thank you, sir! i was a bad wife, i’m sorry—“

he shuts you up with a spank aimed at your pussy, peeking out from between your quivering thighs— you bury your face in taehyun’s leg to muffle your shriek of pain and pleasure, unable to hold your noises back anymore with your sensitive pussy stinging. “i should bring them in here,” taehyun remarks coldly, calloused fingers ghosting over your glistening pussy lips, “let them watch us; how about that, honey? let everyone see how you get punished when you’ve been bad?”

“i’m sorry, daddy!” you sob into his slacks, tears and drool soaking the fabric. “please don’t, i’ll be good, i promise!“

“that’s what i like to hear.” taehyun hums, working two thick fingers between your folds to plunge deep into your hole. the wet sounds from your cunt as he pumps his fingers are obscene, and tears truly begin to fall down your burning cheeks as you hiccup and whine and try your absolute best not to start screaming. “i invite all of my colleagues over for dinner, and my little wife decides to whore around like i can’t control my woman. you embarrassed me, baby. and this pussy is dripping so fucking much— you want me to fuck you, huh? well, bad wives don’t get cock.”

he slides his fingers out of your cunt and trails them up your slit to your winking little asshole, the wet slick coating his fingers perfect lube for them to bully their way inside without much resistance. “such a bad little girl but you take my fingers so well… bad wives don’t get to cum either, so you better behave while i stretch this little asshole out for the plug. then you’re going to go back out there and apologize for your behavior, you understand?”

“y-yes sir.” you whimper, sniffling.

“good girl.”

[honeyshiddendesire]

Pet Name Headcanon List

Smoker x Female Reader - Love

Warnings: Vaginal penetration, praise kink, Strangers meeting in a bar, going back to your place, belly bulge, size kink/difference, mating press, overstimulation, mentions of pussy eating 

*totally got carried away lol but here you go @trxshpandax *

Want to Request a Pet Name? Read the rules!!

*banner*

Smoker watched you on the other side of the bar denying patron after patron that flirted with you and couldn’t help the smirk that started to paint his face. He wondered if you were high maintenance or just super picky, the idea of a challenge that didn’t involve pirates piqued his interest and quickly he found himself smoothly making his way over to you. Sitting beside you calmly without even glancing at you just to see if you’d look first, and being the wise older man he was he was right. Your eyes sneakily taking a peek only to widen as you shyly scanned his physique, face going darker and pupils blowing with obvious desire at the mystery man that sat beside you. 

“Need a drink, love?” Smoker asked, finally turning to look at you with a charming smirk, loving how you couldn’t even form a word and just cutely nodded. Bingo! After a couple drinks you became more open even accidentally spilling how you came to find some fun but no one caught your eye till he came along. It might not be known but Smoker did love pleasing pretty girls like you, so after downing his drink and slamming the glass he leaned toward your ear with a smirk. 

“Tell me love…want to get outta here so I can give you that fun you were looking for.” Smiling all pretty at him he took that as a yes and escorted you out. 

Quickly you made it back to your place and found yourself naked in a second, Smoker, you learned his name was had you taken care of like never before. Pussy slick from round after round of making you cum on his tongue and fingers alone all the while spilling sweet praises to you.

“Dammit love you taste so good, too bad those other guys in the bar couldn’t get their hands on ya.” Smoker grunted as he licked his lips of your essence, your chest rising and falling at a rapid rate as you stared at him with half lidded eyes. Your hands above you from gripping the sheets and he only grinned as he undid the belt of his pants, unzipping them and pulling out his cock that made you gasp. 

He was hung like a fucking horse, thick and veiny, with a length that made your mouth drool but brain panic. He already stretched you with three of his amazingly thick calloused fingers like no one's business but you still wondered if he would even fit. Smoker only worsened your panic as he stroked his cock and laid it on your stomach, the tip barely an inch below your belly button. “Oh don’t you worry love I’ll take it nice and slow for ya.” 

Slowly entering his fat tip causing you to gasp and hiss, nails clawing at his shoulders as he held your legs back and open for him. “Take a breath for me love and just relax. I’ll have you feeling good in no time princess, just you wait.” Smoker’s deep groan made you shiver and unintentionally tighten around him, “Oh fuck love. Careful squeezing me so tight or I won’t take it easy on you.” 

With every slow inch that he pushed inside of you your mind went numb and quickly you found yourself begging for more, “Please! Please Smoker, I can take it!”  Smoker only raised a brow at your begging but he lived to serve, he was a marine after all. So sliding into your cunt with a forceful thrust that knocked the wind out of you he couldn’t help but curse, “Fuck ~ that’s it love. Knew just by looking at you that you could take some dick.” Shaking your head in agreement you only clawed at his broad shoulders more as you felt him deep in your stomach, something no one else has managed to do for you. 

Giving a loud whistle Smoker couldn’t help himself as he placed one of your legs on his shoulder so he could push down on the bulge in your tummy. “Would you look at the love~so far inside ya your stomachs poking out. Damn that’s a good look on you girl.” He couldn’t take waiting after seeing something like that and found his hips moving like they had a mind of their own. Pulling all the way out till your stomach dropped only to slam back in filling you all the way up with a raspy moan leaving him. “Ah fuck love that’s it.” 

“AH! Yesyesyes! Fuck that feels so~ goood~!” Your screams were loud and high pitched making his ego grow by each thrust he gave you.

His cock stretching you so full you found yourself gushing the fastest you ever have, arms falling above your head and he only smirked at the way you gripped the sheets. Each powerful thrust making your tits bounce and he leaned down practically bending you in half so his greedy mouth could lick and swirl around your sensitive nipple. A moan leaves him as he pushes your legs further back to make room for his wide shoulders, mouth never removing from your breast. Licking and sucking marks to remember him bye. 

“O~oh fuck yes! S-Smoker!” You whined as he nipped at your nipple, sucking at your skin till he reached your neck. “What’s up love? You gonna soak my cock again. Such a good pussy taking me all the way. You’re doing so good for me ya know that?” His words made you shiver but a gasp left you as you felt him sneak a hand to your aching clit, whimpers of his name leaving your drool glistened lips. “Go ahead, love I know you want to. Get my cock all nice and wet love so I can keep on fucking you till you pass out.”

[dashielldeveron]

soulmate trope | shigaraki tomura

Shigaraki’s route of soulmate trope.

"post-canon shigaraki? canon isn't even finished as of when this was posted on 4 january 2024!"

yeah. thank god. gives us time to write our own endings. and obviously i will be wrong about some things. i recommend you read at least one other route, preferably dabi’s, before reading this one. warnings: female reader. manga spoilers up to around chapter 390-411ish, based on language used by others to describe shigaraki and his trauma. bodily consequences to his trauma (some things are intended to read as AFO having forced an ED on shigaraki, but this is not made definitive). sexual content. stalking. gore (in a game). reader is experiencing a type of gifted kid burnout.

~28k

There’s a hentai book lying on your bed.

You’ve never seen it before.

Flipping through it, you winced at the positions the large-titted, ponytailed woman was manhandled into, and though you were frankly impressed that she managed to wear such intricate lingerie underneath her everyday business attire, the protagonist only just got home from work; let her decompress for, like, ten minutes before railing her against the window, please.

Whom did you know who would read volume four of something called GINSENG TEA X LUSTFUL BALLSACK?

Unfortunately, you were burdened with knowledge about your friends’ sexual habits, and some of them, therefore, were already ruled out: Shinsou only read erotica because he preferred his own imagination to any images hentai or live-action could provide, and Monoma only read hentai in which the woman’s eyes had hearts in them to let the reader know she’s enjoying it—not to mention Monoma wouldn’t buy a hard copy of it, let alone a story that didn’t have more plot and character development to it. There wasn’t enough drool for Sero to be interested, and the male protagonist wasn’t enough of a twink for Kaminari to project onto, so whose was this?

Moreover, who the fuck would come all the way back to your old school’s campus to break into your room to leave it on your bed? (Shinsou would be your best bet for that part, but whenever he finished a patrol nowadays, he went directly to sleep, and his and Monoma’s flat was across town.)

You cat, Dango, jumped onto the bed, slithering up next to you and bumping her head on your elbow affectionately.

“Is this yours?” you asked her, and she sniffed the book before climbing into your lap.

You tossed the book aside to pet your cat with both hands, and you resolved not to think about it any longer, even though the cringy way the mangaka depicted the female orgasm was burnt onto your brain.

***

Hopping to put your heel back into a ballet flat, you held the phone between your ear and shoulder while you struggled towards the lift. “I’ve got to cancel on you, Ochaco,” you said, flipping the back of your blazer collar down and adjusting the lapels, “I’m, fuck—I’m not gonna be able to make it this evening, so just go without me.”

Uraraka sighed on her end. “Okay. I know a lot of us were excited to see you after so long—there’s a card Tsu’s made us all to sign, and everything—but we’ll manage. ‘Spose we’ll just have a routine night at the bar and reschedule when you can make it. I miss you,” she said, “and I’m pretty sure I can say the same for everyone.”

The elevator door slid open, and you entered. “All of you are so clingy. I’ve only been away from the agency for around two months, and you know where to find me.” You mashed the button for the ground floor. “In fact, it’s embarrassingly easy to access me.”

“Well, we’re very busy,” said Uraraka, “People are very eager to conscript us for missions, even if they really could be done by the police. U.A. alumni have somehow upticked in their popularity even more since we graduated—”

“Ochaco, I know. I was there. Allow me to weep for your success. I am playing the world’s tiniest violin.” You shifted your bag’s full weight onto your shoulder and exited into the commons. “But listen. I’ve got to go; I’m running late this morning. I couldn’t find my pantyhose even though I laid them out last night, and they weren’t in any of my cat’s usual hiding places. I had to turn my flat upside down and still never found them.” The outside doors slid open when you approached, and the harsh, morning wind upset your hair on impact. “Give everyone my love, O. Tell Todoroki to smile in his next interview.” Eyes darting across your surroundings for any witnesses, you shrank in on yourself and bit the inside of your cheek. “And tell everyone I’m sorry, okay?”

By the time you arrived at U.A.’s administration building, the wind had been joined by a light drizzle that would probably morph into a storm within the hour, a prediction compounded by a plethora of faculty umbrellas in and beside the stand by the sliding doors. The front office was gloriously vacant, though, so you were able to slip behind the front desk without someone rebuking you for being—you shook the computer mouse to wake it up, the clock popping up in the corner—seventeen minutes late.

(You’d graduated with the rest of the class six months ago, and you’d founded the all-girls agency uptown, with most of the women in the graduating class joining to form an instant powerhouse of the industry.

Founding an agency appealed to a good deal of graduates, but you were the only one to go the distance: you were the one to actually make the calls, fill out the paperwork, get aggravating shit done, and by the time to move into the building, it had pleased you to no end that Midoriya had asked you for help on kickstarting his own.

And then two months ago, you’d pulled off, frankly, what was supposed to be an impossible rescue. For the first time, you were getting enormous amounts of attention, from civilians, from press, from other heroes—and you were being followed, never having more than a moment to yourself—always being watched, either from well-wishers or nay-sayers—and sometimes, the analytical critic, eager to point out your faults in the rescue mission to try to drag you out of the hero scene.

You hated yourself for this, but they won.

Too many expectations. All sinking down on you, as if no other hero existed while the light shone in your direction. [And you hated yourself for even daring to consider this—what reprehensible audacity, but—but was this how All Might had felt?]

You’d had something next door to a panic attack when a convenience store, a regular stop in your weekly routine, filmed your reaction to how they’d auctioned off your signed receipt for over nine hundred thousand yen. Breaking their cameras, Shinsou had to escort you out of there in a rush and call Aizawa for help.

Sobbing into Shinsou’s phone on the soggy concrete of a darkened alleyway, you did something you never fathomed you’d ever do, something you could never see any of your friends ever doing, something that seemed as alien and unthinkable as sticking your hand into a pit of needles: you begged Aizawa to get you out of the hero business.

You’ve been handled with care and relocated into a surprising covert secretarial job in the U.A. admin, Nezu’s logic was that you’d adjust to one person needing you at a time, say, over email or at the desk, and if you only answered the phone with only a shortened version of your name, then no intruding civilian would be the wiser.

The job was easy, anyway. Paid well for what it was, but perhaps that was simply standard for U.A. Nowhere nearly as well paying or exciting as working as a hero, but you were adjusting into mundanity. Some days had stretches of hours in which you didn’t interact with anyone, sitting at the front desk without a task, and you even had a few days in which you’d gone in, piddled around at the desk for your whole shift without seeing another soul, and gone home.

Your friends were always so busy. The two times you’ve been able to meet with them contained nothing but conversation about hero work, or else everything was somehow tangentially related to it, and you found yourself unable to contribute to the conversation. Both times, you’d left early, a little overstimulated, leaving Shinsou to make your excuses.

And Shinsou, bless him. Not avoiding you on purpose. In fact, you knew he’d drop almost anything for you to hang out, but you knew his schedule and how little rest he got. So, it was more of a self-imposed boundary on your side, taking into account that he needed sleep more than he needed to spend time with you.

So, yes, some of it was directly your fault, but you were achingly, astonishingly lonely, with an ever-lowering threshold for tolerance of outside stimulation, ultimately feeling like you didn’t belong here.)

Pens aligned. Coaster. Check the school email for—good, no emails. No voicemail. Get out your planner and write your hours in it to look busy. Hey, your water bottle’s nearing empty; maybe you could go fill it or even waste time brewing coffee. But where’s your work mug? You probably left it on the cleaning rack next to the office sink. You should go check.

“Hey,” said Aizawa out of nowhere, ignoring how you jumped out of your own skin, “Good morning. Are you doing a specific job at the moment?”

You gripped the arms of your swivel chair to ground yourself. Is this a test? “I was about to take a moment to make some coffee,” you said, because never let someone in a position of authority know that you were doing jackshit, “Is there something I can help you with, Aizawa-sensei?”

Frowning, he dipped his chin into his capture weapon, still tucked closely to his neck to shield him from the wind, and he shifted his weight to one leg, his fingers tapping in a ripple on the reception desk. “You don’t have to call me that anymore.”

“I’m gonna,” you said, “How can I help?”

Please don’t need anything. Please don’t need anythi—

“Permission has just cleared for me to assign you a long-term task.”

Shit, you thought, internally wincing at how he used the term task and not mission, as if you’d be plunged into the ice-cold water of a panic attack at the word. The kid gloves that everyone handled you with somehow both ingratiated and insulted you.

“You’ll be paid for it,” Aizawa continued, “and it’s low stakes interaction, not even face-to-face. It’s all online.” Aizawa clasped his hands on the desk and hunched over the top of it, the ends of his scarf trailing down onto your keyboard. “You’ll recall moving some boxes into room 310.”

“Of course.” Early in your first month back at U.A., you’d helped clean out and move some boxes into 310 in the same hall that housed Aizawa, Eri, and now you—you’d unofficially dubbed it as U.A.’s drawer to shove social rejects. “Is someone about to move in?”

“He’s been moved in for a while,” said Aizawa, pulling his capture weapon away from his neck, “Keep all of this quiet. You’re allowed to know because I’ve advocated for you, because I trust in you and in your ability to do this well.” Aizawa paused, the silence dragging on much longer than usual. His eyes glazed over, as if considering how to phrase his next proposal.

You waved your hand, prompting him to continue.

His eyes focused again. “The new person is a ward of the school, but All Might and I are his primary—caretakers isn’t quite the right term, and nor is supervisors, so perhaps it’s better to—”

“No, I get it,” you said, “This person is an adult, but they’re not quite independent. Go on.”

Aizawa paused, brow furrowed just slightly as he scrutinised you again, but he nodded slowly after a moment. “I’ll allow him to introduce himself to you. He doesn’t need me to set up expectations. What’s important for you to know, regarding your own participation, is that he’s very new to the hero scene and is receiving his hero training later in life than usual. He won’t be attending class but will be trained personally by select U.A. faculty, mostly All Might, Nezu, and me.”

“Is he officially a student?”

 “On paper.” Something strange passed across Aizawa’s face, but you couldn’t name it. “Where you come in is his socialisation. He’s spent most of his life in disciplinary isolation. Because of the adults raising him, his instincts trend towards distrust and animosity.”

So, Aizawa wanted you spend time with him until he was no longer bad with people, like spending time with feral cats at animal shelters until they’re ready to be adopted. “So, he’s distrustful. Hostile. Angry,” you said, scratching the side of your head, “Is he—do you think he’ll bring up bad stuff I’ve done to use it against me?”

“He doesn’t know who you are, aside from someone trusted by U.A. with hero experience,” said Aizawa, shaking his head, “and you can choose what information you give him.”

“Does he,” you said, sucking in through your teeth, “Does this guy know about how you’re going about this? I think—wouldn’t he be insulted if he knew about how you’re socialising him like an animal?”

Aizawa looked over his shoulder at the empty office, but he bent farther over the desk and spoke softly, anyway. “Recently, when I was training him at night, he expressed that he never knows what to do when someone wants to talk to him after mission, whether it’s successful or not. He froze entirely when a senior citizen thanked him last week, and that’s when we decided something tactile needed to be done. Since he’s grown used to me, you’re the solution.”

Okay. A volatile man, someone who couldn’t go to U.A. at the average age but for whom Aizawa, Nezu, and All Might were making an exception, even going so far as to personally take him out at night to practise hero work.

Hm. Fishy.

But if the good, good men who took care of you wanted you take care of another misplaced person, then you’re going to do it to the best of your ability.

“I hope I can live up to your expectations,” you said, making a note in your planner, “What am I doing?”

“I need you to learn how to play a video game,” said Aizawa, “and I need you to be absolute shit at it.”

***

For you to help some loser with socialisation, he would be teaching you how to play some janky, twenty-five-year-old MMORPG called Cipherstone—and not even the current, polished version of it; you had to sign up for an account on the version preserving the game exactly as it was in 2007. Nostalgia reasons, apparently.

You nudged Dango out aside to check your bedside clock. The discord call would start in five minutes, and you were making your Cipherstone account, completely unable to come up with a suitable username.

“Don’t connect it to your other online accounts or your actual identity,” Aizawa had said that morning.

Dango’s tiny prance across your stomach was not helping, and you couldn’t use Dango in your username, because if someone knew about your cat (and hopefully no one did, because cats were not allowed in the dorms), then a Dango username could be linked back to the real you. You plopped your head back on your pillow, knocking against the headboard. What’s something that couldn’t be traced back to you? Slumping, you let your head fall to the side and sulked.

The hentai book peeked out from underneath a jacket on your dirty clothes chair.

GinsengTea

That username is unavailable.

Well. You couldn’t use your birthdate as added numbers. You kept typing.

GinsengTea69

That username is unavailable.

You’re not about to try Lustful Ballsack. Maybe if you put aside your secretarial propensity for being correct for a moment.

GinzengTea

Username available!

Oh, thank God. You sorted out your password and started customising your character, though you couldn’t do much with the negative six billion pixels you were dealing with, and oh, is that the noise discord makes for a call? You plugged in your earbuds and clicked the answer button.

“Hello?” you asked into the microphone on your earbud cord, narrowing your eyes at his profile picture of a rotund, cartoon mouse. Username Tenkopeito. Looks like he ran into the same spelling trouble you did.

“Greetings and salutations,” he said, his tinny, rasping, just-got-out-of-bed, gruff-from-lack-of-use voice striking you with about fifty psychic damage, “I am Aizawa-sensei’s pupil, here to teach you about the intricacies of Cipherstone. It will be my pleasure—”

“Cut that shit out,” you said, narrowing your eyes at his profile picture: actually, that mouse was so round because it had just swallowed an enormous piece of konpeito whole, with the little star spikes jutting out underneath its fur. “No one talks like that. You sound fake as fuck.”

“I see,” he said after a beat, tone deflating to sound resigned (and though he’d relaxed, it somehow sounded as if talking this way took more effort, like it physically strained his vocal cords). “Am I not supposed to be nice?”

“You weren’t exactly being nice. You were using a customer service voice—which is being polite, not nice. Not even kind. Politeness is usually some sort of put-on affectation of niceness, forced for the situation. I understand if that’s what you think you need to do when you talk to people as a hero, but in hero work, since the stakes are high, you need to be genuine, or at least sound like you are.” Dango crawled across your stomach again, but you lifted her off before she could settle into a loaf on your keyboard. “In the field, it’s often hard to be kind because of how involved you get as a hero; being kind takes effort and drains you emotionally. Kindness implies there’s some sort of reciprocity, some sort of ongoing relationship. You can choose to be kind if you want, but it may wear on you in the long run. What will probably be healthiest for you, on your side, is if you aim to be nice, meaning being honest in a gentle way, framing situations positively but realistically for listeners. The public doesn’t want to be lied to and told everything’s fine, but telling them the harshness of reality doesn’t go over well. Kills morale.”

“Holy shit.” He was scratching something close to his microphone—it must be a fairly good mic, since you could deduce short fingernails against a dry surface. “That’s…a lot.”

“It is. But you can do it. All it takes is practise, and that’s what I’m here for,” you said, moving Dango from your keyboard again, “And I didn’t mean to overwhelm you with all of that; it just came out—I, uh, I happen to know a lot about the way heroes present themselves.” Swallowing thickly, you ran your tongue over your lower lip. “Why don’t we begin with what you were saying before? But in the actual way you talk, please. You need to be comfortable in your own voice.”

His mic picked up the distant noise of slurping through a straw, against what sounded like the bottom of a metal cup, which clinked when he set it back down. “Have you played Cipherstone before?”

“Total newcomer. Though I’ve seen some screenshots in memes.”

“Cool,” he said in a way that was clear it was not cool, “I can’t add you to my in-game friends list until you get off Tutorial Island. Share your screen with me until then.”

All right. You can be bad at this. You can be so bad at this. “What’s a screen?” Not that bad, idiot! “I mean,” you said, fumbling, “How do I share my screen with you?”

The scratching grew louder. “Bottom left. Screen button. Right click. Share option.”

“Ah.” You should probably lure him into thinking you’re competent while there was a literal tutorial onscreen so that he would be more frustrated with you later. “Gotcha.”

For a few seconds after your avatar popped onscreen for the first time, nothing came through but the 8-bit tutorial music. “Is that what you look like in real life?” he finally asked.

“No,” you said, not exactly lying. The character had her hair down in her face (which you wouldn’t normally do when you were on patrol, since it could get in the way of physical hero work), and, hoping to endear yourself to this weirdo, you’d chosen the sluttiest shirt: while none of the horrible pixelated options showed any boob whatsoever, the poor rendering still managed to convey that the top was off-shoulder. Again, not great for hero work. “In real life, I’ve much, much more panache.”

Another silence, during which you assumed he was looking up the word. “So, you click on the screen to go where you want to walk, on either the overall game interface or in the mini-map in the corner. Your destination will show up—”

“Wait, what should I call you, screwboy?”

“—as a red flag,” he said, frown audible, his rasping voice screeching to a stop the way brakes are slowly applied to the wheels of a train. “Not screwboy.”

“I’m not calling you by your handle. Not only is it cringe, but you won’t have to answer to it anywhere else in your life. If you don’t want to give me your name, that’s fine. I could call you by your hero name, if you like; it’d help you get used to answering to it. But no, I’m not calling you your username,” you said, shoulders slacking once Dango finally settled in a ball at your hip, “Especially since you couldn’t even get the correct spelling of Ten Konpeito.”

“It’s—it’s not supposed to say that,” he said, sputtering with a groan coming in at the end, “It’s a play on my name, and including the n makes it harder to say aloud. I think these things through; I have to be aware of my public image and branding now; that’s the whole point of this stupid—my name is Tenko, you asshole.”

“Oh, you’re gonna call civilians asshole?” You clicked your tongue. “Bad. Bad and evil. Speaking from experience, people don’t like that.”

“Just fu—just click on the map.”

“Fine. But you can’t fool me with your medieval, point-and-click game,” you said, clicking to pick up a fishing net, “Incidentally, the oldest known fishing net is the net of Antrea, crafted of willow and dating back to 8300 B.C.”

Tenko paused. “What would be the socially expected response to that?”

Your avatar fished for shrimps. “Oh, usually people yell at me. Get mad for bringing up total non sequiturs. My friend Bakugou is fond of telling me that I’m a collection of those bottle caps with facts printed on the inside.”

“Would…would you like me to get angry? Am I supposed to? I was under the impression I was supposed to curb my anger. To be nice.”

Your inventory filled with shrimps.

“You only need one shrimp,” said Tenko.

“You’ll thank me when we have food later,” you said, continuing to fish for shrimps.

“It’s the tutorial,” he said, frown creeping into his voice, “You won’t keep any resources from it. You should go chop the tree down to light a fire.”

“Well, hell. I want my shrimps.” You clicked away from the fishing spot and onto a tree. “Nothing’s happening.”

Tenko cleared his throat. “You need to talk to the woodcutting tutor first. She’ll give you an axe.”

“I thought this game had magic,” you said, guiding Dango’s head away from blocking the screen, “Can’t I just get logs with magic?”

“No, it’s—you must want me to get angry. As a test.” Scratching. “Magic comes later. Not for getting logs.”

You interpreted that as a sign to make the rest of the tutorial go smoothly. You followed the instructions for a few silent minutes, proving to him that you could read, and when you reached the end of the tutorial, a wizard teleported you to the crossroads of a town centre.

“Ah,” you said, genuinely surprised as other players’ avatars, decked out in what must be high-level gear, dashed past, “I don’t know where I am.”

“You can turn your screen-sharing off now.” Tenko typed on what sounded like a mechanical keyboard. “I’m over here. I’ve got—by the fountain—white hair, all black clothes. I’m not—there you are.”

Dozens of other players were running past the two of you, the only bare, new players in the area. Tenko’s pixelated avatar waved at you. Cheeky bitch. He’s so poorly animated and so very 2007 that it gave no indication what he could look like in real life. But he’s chosen to have a black t-shirt as his default, so he has to be a slut.

You resisted the urge to ask to feel his pixelated bicep. “You don’t have any equipment. I thought you’ve played Cipherstone before?”

“My main account is max-ed out. I started a new account to grow at the same rate as you. Before anything else, notice where we are,” said Tenko, “We’re in the centre of the city of Renfield. Get familiar with it. Think of it as home. It’s where you’ll always come back to when you get lost.”

It’s a barely animated town centre, with a short path up the stairs to a castle door and a few market stalls split between fountains.

“I have no idea what that means, Tenko.”

“It means that—that,” Tenko said, and stopped.

You couldn’t stop grinning, biting at your lower lip to keep from laughing—he’d let out a flustered huff, sounding a little strangled, because you’d said his name for the first time—and, judging by how long this delicious silence was dragging on, Tenko was probably his given name, not the family name. Beautiful, really, that a guy his age (however old he was, but he’s at least the same as you, since he couldn’t attend U.A. at the usual time) could get this nervous over a woman calling him by his name.

Tenko recovered in a way that showed he didn’t: “It means that you are always able to cast one spell, regardless of magic level,” he said in a rush, “It is a homing spell that teleports you back to this spot, so even if you get lost, you can always get back to Renfield. You can teleport other ways, too, but that’s for another time, and I need a cup of coffee.” He inhaled sharply.

It's only the first day, so you should go easy on him. Let his moment of awkwardness go.

However, Aizawa gave you a mission.

Excuse you, a task.

“Do you plan on getting flustered every time a civilian calls you by name?” you asked, petting between Dango’s ears, “Or are you planning on avoiding as much publicity as possible by being an underground hero like Aizawa?”

“I don’t—they’re not going to—it’s different with you. I can already tell,” said Tenko (you froze, fingers curled into Dango’s fur), “because I’m going to have some sort of working relationship with you. I assume you’re here to stay.”

Putting it that way made your heartbeat throb around your ears. You decided you could ask directly. “Tenko’s your first name, then?”

“Yeah.” He must have covered his hand with his mouth, muffling his voice at first. “But people usually—people have been calling me something else.”

“Then I can call you something else, if you like,” you said, getting back to petting Dango behind her ears and resolving to treat him with the same tenderness—he must need it, since no one in his life knows him well enough to call him by his given name.

“No, I think you should,” he said a bit too quickly, “Call me that. Tenko. I’m tired of that other stuff. Click on something to keep from logging out, by the way. There’s a timer.” Mechanical typing noises. “No, Aizawa-sensei wants me to be better. Of all things, I need to learn to respond to my real name.”

You squinted at your screen, as if the methodical rise and fall of his avatar’s chest could betray how he was feeling. Something had to have happened to this guy to make him feel this way about such a basic part of his identity, to make other people avoid his real name so universally. Aizawa couldn’t’ve have assigned you this task just to socialise him; something else was unfolding here. How did you enter the equation? If you’re supposed to guide someone who’s also lost their direction in life, you’re a hell of a bad candidate.

But what if you fuck up Aizawa’s plan, whatever it was?

Your recent history is riddled with things going downhill. What if you somehow screwed over Tenko? You’d be dragging someone else down with you, down to…the beginning again, a humiliating re-start, back at your fucking school, when the rest of your friends were out living the dream you’d all crafted together, the dream that apparently could go on without you in it.

Well. Enough of that. Distract yourself. Distract Tenko, too. “Got it. I want a hat.”

“What?”

“I want a hat,” you said, clicking the space around the fountain for your avatar to walk, “My head is cold. How do we get a hat? Hats. You should get one, too.”

“Hats. Very well,” said Tenko, clicking to face you across the shitty fountain, “Do you want one that’s purely decorative or one that has some sort of stats? Decorative ones we can get within a minute, with good RNG, by killing goblins across the bridge. There’s a low chance we could get a low-tier wizard’s hat doing that, too.”

“Then it will be a pleasure killing goblins with you, Tenko.”

“Mm,” he said at the back of his throat, “First, we’ll need to obtain some sort of weapons, since bare-handed punching them will take forever. We could either talk to the melee tutor to get a temporary sword or start wi—actually, we should talk to the melee tutor. Melee will probably be the easiest fighting style for you right now, and it’ll be the simplest, since you won’t have to worry about running out of ammunition or runes.”

“Sure,” you said, leaning back in bed, “Do we go starboard or port?”

“You can just call them east and west, y’know. And we go north.”

To be obstinate, you clicked the opposite direction that Tenkopeito was going, and the moment you ran offscreen, Tenko spoke in a low, grumbling voice into his microphone. “No, don’t run away from me. Come back here.”

The rumble in his voice shot warmth straight to your lower stomach, the nature of the encounter between the two of you changing in a second. Your avatar kept running to her destination, your hand frozen and hovering above the tracking pad. You blinked, your throat drying. Snapping back into it, you ran back to Tenko, who seemed unaware of what he just did to you—and he almost negated your arousal in the way he kept talking about sword upgrades and something called RNG.

Uh.

“—now, it’ll take about ten minutes, but it’ll seem like two hours of hard labour. Follow me across the bridge. Follow—there’s a follow mechanic, if you’ll right-click on me.”

Oh, you’ll right-click him, all right. You needed to know more about Tenko—why you’ve been paired off, what Aizawa’s planning for him, what—a tinge of shame soured at the back of your tongue, because what currently gripped you were minutiae: more about him, what he looks like, what he likes, what he does for fun, if you’re…the sort of person he’d get along with in real life, if you hadn’t been forced together.

God, get over yourself. You spend two months away from men your age, and now, you’re thirsting over someone you don’t even know because he said one hot thing. You needed to be socialised—no, stop. This isn’t about you. Stop thinking about what his hands would feel like on you, what he’d sound like grunting into your ear as he ground against you—

“You’ve been quiet for a minute,” said Tenko, slashing the first goblin, “Are you all right?”

A very heroic question when you haven’t been thinking too heroically. The thought of his voice muttering against your neck still grasped you tightly. “I’m having—technical difficulties.”

***

Poking your head outside of your dorm/apartment door, you scanned the hallway for witnesses. You gripped the handle of Dango’s carrier, still hidden behind the door inside your dorm, and you nodded back at her when she meowed at you.

“I know, baby,” you said, listening for footsteps, “We’ll be outside soon enough. Gotta check for people, though.”

Okay, nothing coming. You shifted Dango’s carrier out of your dorm and pulled out your key, sticking it in the lock at the same time as a door opened down the hall.

Too fast—you had to prod her carrier back inside, your foot stuck in the crack between wall and door, just as—as Midoriya strode down the hall. Keys jangling. Civilian clothes (a Froppy hoodie, in fact).

“Oh, hello!” Midoriya only seemed to notice you once you were struggling to close the door despite the carrier being the way, and hopefully you thrust it fully inside swiftly enough for him not to catch the flash of burgundy. He trotted up to you, hands in the pockets of his worn cargo pants. “I didn’t think you’d be around. Do you not have work today?”

Dango meowed mournfully through the door, and you stepped in front of it. “It’s my lunch break. I’m going for a walk.”

Midoriya nodded, and he glanced over his shoulder back to the room he’d left. “Gotcha, gotcha. Good weather for it, especially after that storm earlier this week.” easy smile stretched across his face as he faced you again, but his gaze weighed down on you, as if the number one hero’s attention magnified your failures in comparison to his rise to the top—and the fact that he didn’t mean to pressure you only exacerbated the feeling.

“Uh,” you said, stuffing your keys in your backpack and setting it on the ground, as if you’re not waiting to go back inside, “May I ask what you’re doing here? Don’t you have better—aren’t you busy?”

Chuckling, Midoriya scratched the back of his neck (and oh, in that laughter, he was hiding something). “I make time. I’m just visiting,” he said, jerking his head back towards the end of the hall, “A friend. I want to take care to see him regularly. I didn’t know you lived on the same hall.”

“If you can call it living,” you said, and for some reason, Midoriya frowned, took a step closer to you, and said your name under his breath, eyes fucking wide and too damn concerned for your comfort. Fuck, you only meant to make a self-depredating joke, not make the situation serious. 

“You—you know that you can reach out to us. I mean that. If you’re scared you’re gonna burden any of us—”

You’d squatted down to go through your bag, just to have something to do, to have an excuse to not look him in the eyes. If you were going to cry—which you were not!—then the number one hero’s not going to get to witness it.

“—then reach out to me, at least. I’ve got time, or else I can make it.” Midoriya was kneeling next to you, and you kept your eyes on the inside of your backpack. “If it makes you feel less like you’re bothering any of us, I could check in with you when I come see my friend. I’d already be on campus. I wouldn’t be going out of my way.” He sighed to fill the space when you didn’t answer. “What are you looking for?”

“I can’t find my planner,” you invented, and, acting like you were upset, you zipped your backpack again. “I think I need to go back inside to locate it.”

He shifted his jaw, and he glanced down at your bag and back at you. “Come with me to the vending machines, at least?”

The new symbol of peace, asking to spend time with you. You didn’t deserve it, so you shook your head. “I don’t have much time left in my break. I think I’d better let you go.”

Shifting his jaw, Midoriya tilted his head at you, his eyes glinting. “All right,” he said slowly, “You know yourself better than anyone else. Do what you need to. Rest up.” He started walking backwards towards the stairs. “And I want to see you more—we all do. I’ll see you the next time I come around. Maybe the three of us could hang out?”

“Sure,” you said, shoving your key in the lock to let a thrashing Dango out of her misery.

***

“The church. It’s the one with the altar icon in the minimap.”

You clicked enough so that your avatar would backtrack. “How am I supposed to know that’s the church? Is that icon supposed to be an altar? It looks nothing like an altar. It looks more like a steaming cup of tea.”

“That’s fair,” said Tenko into his headset, “but this is the easiest quest in the game. How are you having this much trouble with it?”

“Oh, stop that,” you said, reaching his character in front of the priest, “It’s intuitive to you because you’ve been playing this for years. Do we kill this guy?”

“What? No. He’s going to give us each the key to a dungeon underneath the church.”

“How can he give us both a key if there’s only one?” You clicked through the dialogue with the priest, and a key appeared in your inventory. “Also, how accurate is this dungeon? Because if this is a broadly medieval game, then the dungeons will be closer to underground bathrooms rather than, like, creepy and wet with shackles and bones. That was popularised by Walter Scott’s Ivanhoe.”

“How the hell do you know that,” Tenko asked flatly, “Ne—never mind. It doesn’t matter. Follow me to the trapdoor outside.”

You did, and it was locked. “Are we allowed to do this?” you asked, clicking on the key and then the lock, “Will we get arrested for trespassing?”

“Wha—no. No, we’re supposed to in order to progress the quest. In fact, our characters do a frankly criminal amount of breaking and entering throughout the game and never get checked for it. Hey, don’t go down there without me.”

Your character had only just gone down the trapdoor, prompting a blackout loading screen, but you popped back up to the surface before you could get a good look around. Your character stood next to Tenko’s, still next to the trapdoor. “What’s the holdup? I thought the only step was to use the key on the door. Did I skip something?”

“No, I—huh,” said Tenko, cutting himself off with a tinge of frustration creeping into his voice, “I lost the key.”

Raising a brow, you tilted your head. “What? How’d you lose it?”

“I don’t know. It was in my inventory one minute, and now it’s not. I didn’t touch it.” His mic picked up light scratching. “You’re not supposed to be able to lose the key, but I guess I can go back to the priest to get another. You wait—”

“Hold up,” you said, brow furrowed, “I have it. It’s in my inventory.”

“The hell? Are you sure it’s not just your own key?”

“Positive. I have two of them now. Same key, right next to each other. Want me to share my screen?”

“No, I—I believe you.” Tenko took a moment. “I’m not familiar with this sort of glitch, where an item from one player’s inventory randomly transfers to another’s. This doesn’t even happen, in my experience, but maybe it’s because this is one of the earliest quests coded into the game. It’s twenty-five-year-old code at this point, and it might have glitched because we’re both trying to perform the same quest actions on the same game tick.”

“Sure,” you said, “So, what do I do? Do I drop the key for you to pick up, or?”

“It disappears if you drop it. Trade me. Right-click, trade option.”

Once the key was traded, the two of you went down the trapdoor and wove your way back into the underground headquarters of a low-level cult, vacant for the moment but with evidence of rituals on the walls and floors, particularly in front of their bloodstained altar.

“Okay, we’re in their headquarters,” you said, making your character walk up the aisle, “What now? Priest guy didn’t give us any instructions.”

His avatar followed you and sat on the only programmed-to-be-sittable seat in the pew, his black cape (that he stole from a highwayman’s corpse) folding under his legs. “Actually, he did. You just clicked through his dialogue.”

“Because you’re here to tell me what to do, Quest Man.”

“Click on the—” Tenko heaved an enormous sigh, microphone sparking. “You figure it out. What’s clickable in this room? What has examine text?”

You hovered your mouse over most of the room, and nothing popped up with the examine option, except for something on the altar. “It’s this weird-looking, severed hand, isn’t it? This thing standing up on a slice of wrist by itself?” Your character walked nearer to it, fingers splayed widely enough to hold an in-game apple. “Weirdest ring-holder I’ve ever seen.”

When Tenko didn’t say anything, you glanced towards his character, but he was still sitting on the pew.

“Is this whole quest a pun? Because it’s one of the easiest quests, so they’re giving us a lot of guidance, so it’s like they’re holding our hands to get it through?”

That broke his silence: he scoffed into the mic. “I doubt it,” he said, “You need to grab the hand for the quest to keep going.”

“Fine,” you said, clicking the hand, and the instant your avatar touched it, a zombie spawned from the altar and began to attack you. “Dude! Did you know that thing was gonna jump me?” you asked, clicking away a few spaces but turning around to stab at it with your stupid bronze dagger, “And you just sat there? You could’ve warned me.”

“I did, and the priest did, and the duke who gave us this quest did. That’s why we went and baked all those pies in your inventory, yeah? For you to eat during this fight?”

Your character kept missing hits. “Yeah, but—like! I didn’t know the fight would be now.”

“Hey, relax.” Tenko’s voice sounded muffled, like his mouth was smushed as his fist dug into his cheek. “It’s only a level 12, and you’re level 9. Not too big of a difference. With your armour and weapon, you out-level it.”

The miss sound effect spoke for itself.

“You’ll kill it eventually. You won’t always hit zeroes, so it’ll pass.”

Though your character dealt her first damage, you frowned. “That’s…that’s actually really good advice, Tenko. The stuff you just said would work well if you were trying to calm someone down—reminding people of reality and emphasising perseverance over luck or natural talent are some of the better ways to encourage people.”

“Is that so,” he asked flatly, trying to put off a yawn and failing, “I haven’t—I wasn’t thinking about hero work. Just thinking about the game.”

“Well, it was nice,” you said, “and it seemed like it came naturally. Mind if I ask if something caused it?”

He yawned again, but he must have leant away from the mic so that you wouldn’t hear anything besides the initial inhale. “Nothing special happened today, but I’m too tired to get irritated. Therapy took a lot out of me today.”

Therapy. Therapy. Okay, so he’s got an official diagnosis somewhere. The word today implies that it’s a regular thing, and for some reason, this session was more intense. Intense emotionally? Physically? What kind of therapy? Well, they offered cognitive behavioural therapy on campus, but considering his non-traditional student status, his might be outsourced. Plus, if you, a former hero but technically a civilian, are being implemented into his care plan without being informed directly—

“You usually don’t go this long without saying some inane non sequitur,” said Tenko, that same, strange scratching picking up on the mic, “Snap out of it. You’re gonna get killed by the easiest quest boss in the game.”

Making an undignified noise, you shook yourself and spam-clicked on a cherry pie for your character to eat until she was healed completely, and then you clicked on the zombie to attack again.

“Why’d you pause when I said therapy? Surprised I’d go? Think that sort of thing is below me?”

“Of course not,” you said, trying to seem like you were focused on the fight so that he wouldn’t get nervous about sharing personal information, “Therapy good. Therapy great. Everyone needs to go to therapy.” Since he appeared to be taking this casually, you could probably ask after the type without it seeming too intrusive. “What kind? CBT? That’s what—”

“You think U.A. would arrange for me to get my cock and balls tortured? That wouldn’t qualify as therapy for me, certainly, and there’s no way that U.A. would pay for—”

“Not fucking cock-and-ball torture, you muppet; cognitive behavioural therapy. The sitting-down-with-therapist-to-talk-about-your-trauma-and-restructuring-the-way-you-think-through-practise type. You fuckin’ pervert,” you said, grinning at his avatar onscreen.

“Good to know. I didn’t know the name for it.”

“It’s good that you made this mistake with me instead of with Aizawa-sensei.”

“He’s probably more inclined towards bondage. Congratulations on killing your first boss,” said Tenko, and you blinked in surprise at your character: you’d defeated the zombie while staring at him. It fell to the ground, dropping bones and some sort of arrows.

“Take those. Check to see if they’re iron or steel. All right, equip them in your ammo slot for now so that they don’t take up an inventory space.”

You did so. “Why didn’t it attack me with the arrows if it were holding them?”

“There’s no logic to it besides that arrows are on its drop table. It’s coded to attack by punching you in the face, which doesn’t involve arrows.”

“Sure. Now, let’s get out of the cult basement; I wanna bake more pies until we can make apple ones. Did you know that the first record of fruit pies was around 1600? That means these fruit pies are anachronistic, since this game pitches itself as medieval.”

“Is that…” The hesitance had you beaming, daring him to actually ask it. “Is that not medieval?”

“Tenko, get your head out of your ass. For reference, 1600 is arguably the year the Azuchi-Momoyama period ended and the Edo period began. The game frames itself as medieval European, and 1600 is hard Renaissance-slash-Early-Modern. That’s Shakespeare times, screwboy.”

Only silence on your headphones. Character still on the pew. You made your character walk over to his to perform the curtsy emote, and in real life, you frowned. “Did I go too far there? Bit too annoying? I’m really sorry if I’m bothering you with this sort of thing; my friends say that I—”

“Nothing’s wrong. I needed a moment,” came Tenko’s voice, quiet and steady, “I could hear you smiling, and it was—it was good.”

Inhaling sharply, you pressed a fist to your mouth. Great. Fucking fabulous. Goddammit, you hadn’t aimed for it to go this way, but were you now the one getting flustered at something as simple as—

“Do most people consider a long pause in conversation rude? Did I fuck up with that?”

“No! No, of course not,” you were saying, trying to recover but still startled at how he was able to flip the vibe of your conversations in so few words, words that seemed so casual to him but grabbed you by the throat/cunt, “Especially since you followed-up with a check-in of how it might be strange; a lot of times, people will be comforted by checking to see if something’s okay with them personally…”

Frowning, you trailed off when another avatar entered the cult’s sanctuary and strode up the aisle. You hovered over the new guy’s stupid frog mask to see his username was Venomothman.

“Fucking great,” grumbled Tenko, “Here comes someone else to break our immersion. Ignore him. I’ll go ahead and fight the zombie so that we can get out of here.”

“The zombie’s dead. You don’t have to fight him,” you said, as Venomothman sat directly on top of Tenkopeito, with both avatars glitching as they took up the same space on the pew.

Tenko made some sort of noise in the back of his throat. “No, I have to kill it, too. It’s like each of us is the only one doing the quest, so in your version, the evil has been defeated, but in my version—it’s this thing called an instance—”

Venomothman: wow a couple questing together

Venomothman: bet ur one guy on two accounts

Venomothman: roleplaying that he can get a gf

The new guy’s in-text chat appeared in yellow font above his avatar’s frog-faced head, and somehow, the boggly, green eyes made his words more irritating.

Venomothman: leave the basement sometimes ya incel

“Some people are assholes recreationally,” said Tenko, making his avatar stand to go to the altar as the clatter of mechanical typing came through the mic, “Let me get rid of this fucking scumba—wait.”

 Venomothman: ur doing too much work to stare at pixelated ass

“Would it be correct for a hero to insult someone online?”

You shrugged, even though he couldn’t see it. “Eh. You’re not on duty, and you’re not under any persona connected with your public branding. I would say go for it, but since you’re trying to be better with people, you may want to practise.”

Venomothman: somehow this is even more pathetic than never knowing the touch of a woman at all

“Then I’ll shut him down. The shit-talking isn’t bothering me so much as his breaking our immersion in the game,” said Tenko, grabbing the hand on the altar to start his instance of the fight, “I’m trying to cultivate a particular experience for you, and he’s a fucker who won’t stop yapping. Give me a second.”

Venomothman: is this what does it for you??

Venomothman: why no response

Venomothman: hard to type with one hand, isn’t it, ******* shithead

You laughed through your nose. “Cipherstone censors the word fuck?”

“It censors fuck; it censors cunt,” said Tenko, avatar casting a weak air spell at the zombie, slowly, slowly draining its health, “Everything else is fair game.”

“Will it censor variations of cunt? Like, if I typed in cuntbag? Or—actually, let’s find that out later,” you said, tapping the buttons on your earbud cord to turn up the volume, “Let’s practise navigating difficult social interactions. What’s our goal here in this conversation? Is it to continue to engage?”

“No.” His spell missed, and the zombie landed a hit on his character, prompting him to eat half of a pie. “It’s to close the interaction. Therefore, I need to say something concise that invites no response, right? I’m assuming that a simple fuck off is unacceptable.”

“You’re getting better at this, y’know?”

“Is that condescension I detect?”

“Only a little.” You slumped back against your headboard and reached for the bottle of water on your bedside table. “Actually—no. No condescension. Genuinely, Tenko, you’re picking up on this stuff easily, and it’s impressive. You’ll be able to walk little old ladies across the street with style and flair in no time.” 

“Hilarious,” he said, voice restrained and tight at the mention of his name (too easy—he gives himself away aurally so freely; who knows what you could read off of him when you had a visual?), “I’m sure no one wants me touching them. Can I—hm.” He sounded like he was pressing his fist against his face somehow. “Why you keep bothering to compliment me? Most people bitch down to me like I’ve spat my own cum in their coffee.”

“Wha—how about because you deserve to be complimented? Listen,” you said, electing to brush over his vivid simile, “Silent admiration rots. By keeping in appreciation or gratitude, you’re not doing anyone any good. Kind regards are meant to be shared. Like, now, if I held back any positive thoughts concerning your growth, then you might not feel encouraged to keep going.”

“Like I’m gonna go around fucking complimenting ev—”

“I’m not saying you have to,” you said, “but consider trying it more often. See if anything turns out better. And be sure to be sincere about it—obviously.”

“This is bullshit.”

“Just consider it. So. What has he told us about himself based on how he’s insulted you?”

“He’s so low-level that it looks like he just created his account. His stats are even lower than ours,” said Tenko, speaking more quickly now that it was a subject he was more comfortable with, unequipping his wand to punch the zombie instead, “But he’s gone out of his way to get the frog mask.”

“His words, Tenko,” you said, unscrewing the cap and doing your fucking darndest to pinch your mouth from smiling at his slight hitch when you said his name, “I’m trying to get you to notice on whom he looks down and what that means for his personal social status.”

“Right,” he said a bit too quickly, a bit of a break in his voice on the word, “He’s debasing me for—oh, you’re brilliant. How the hell do you notice these things? He’s using basement dweller as insult, meaning he considers himself above that. Leave it to me.”

You muted yourself briefly to glug down water; you didn’t know how sensitive the mic was on your earbuds, but considering that you could catch onto Tenko’s occasional rustling of what sounded like plastic bags on his side or typing on his mechanical keyboard, as he was right now, you would prefer not to be emitting the same.

Tenkopeito: Your mom wishes you would come out of your room to talk with the rest of the family more often

You spluttered into your water bottle as the yellow text appeared above his head, and you unmuted yourself. “That is not what I meant for you to—”

“Was I being mean?” The mic caught the creak of Tenko’s chair as he leant back in it, and you could picture him defensive and pouting as he crossed his arms (and it struck you that you couldn’t imagine his face. Grimacing, you bit the inside of your cheek). “I wasn’t being rude. I could be so much crueller, but I thought this would be more of a devastating blow. Living on the same floor as your family isn’t the same as living in the basement, so I’m acknowledging his level of social power while still demeaning—”

Venomothman: i mean you right

Venomothman: lmao how tf did you know it was me

“I think we should log out,” you said, wiping the water off of your chin with the back of your hand and setting the bottle back on the bedside table.

Over Tenko’s microphone, you heard the shrill pitch of a custom ringtone and a startled but violent shuffle at the noise. “Hold on. I’m getting a call,” he said, voice coming through at a distance, as if he’d knocked his mic aside.

“Oh? Who is it?”

It took him a minute, but Tenko eventually replied, “A friend.”

That must be a damn good microphone, because you could still pick up on Tenko’s side of the conversation a few feet away. “Yes, hello?” he asked, a bit more brusquely than you’d heard him before.

“Oh. I didn’t,” he was saying, “How was I supposed to know that you’d—yes, that’s her. The one working with Aizawa-sensei.”

Very nice, you were thinking, as you unlocked your own phone to check your messages. Very good for him to have friends. Not that you would’ve pegged him as the absolute loner type, because he proved to be adaptable and quick on his feet, but since Aizawa’d recruited you for interpersonal help, you’d considered that he may not have friends. So, good on him for having at least one friend, it seemed, who cared enough to create an account on some stupid video game solely to annoy him.

“—cool of you to make an account to hang out with me. Stop fucking laughing; I am trying to be kind to you, shitstain. Okay. I don’t know. I haven’t been in contact with him in the past two days. I’ve been busy. Let me check.” Tenko leant back towards the mic to address you. “Do we have a schedule for the rest of the week? For instance, are we doing this again on Thursday?”

“I thought we were,” you said, scanning your room for your planner so that you could check your calendar, “Did something come up?”

“It’s not imperative that I go,” Tenko was saying into your ear, while you picked up your laptop to walk over to your U.A.-issued desk, “but another friend who’s been out of town will finally be back then. We might hang out.”

“Psh, go with your friends,” you said, delighted that he had more than one (fighting envy that it was so easy for them to meet up), “We can do this another time.”

“Understood,” Tenko said and backed away from the mic.

Venomothman: so have you sucked his dick yet

Tenko’s incensed shout of “Touya!” had you turning down the volume.

Venomothman: not to be the world’s worst wingman, but my dude is packing. and goes commando all the time.

Venomothman: and i would know. “i” sometimes “did” our “laundry”

You: what’s with all those quotation marks

Venomothman: and do you know the last time it was sucked? never

(Fucking hell. This Touya was walking you back into forbidden territory: the sexualisation of Tenko. After that first session, when you’d been turned on by his confident, rumbling voice as he’d given you an order, you’d felt guilty for sexualising him for the rest of the night. It was as if instead of friend-zoning him, you’d sex-zoned him, only able to see him as a sexual person/object. For the sake of your mission task, that felt unfair.

Or maybe you weren’t even sexualising him. Maybe your brain was appropriately interpreting what he’d done as sexual.

Whatever. Something in your gut was begging you not to see Tenko only through romantic or sexual lenses right now, and you couldn’t explain why.

And talking about Tenko’s apparently massive dick was not helping.)

Tenkopeito: Touya if you don’t ******* shut up I am going to tear off your other arm

Venomothman: no need, boss man

You heard Tenko sigh and say into his phone, sounding exhausted, “I’m not your boss anymore, Touya.”

Venomothman: no need, douchebag

***

Draped over the side of your bed, you dangled a shoelace in front of the gap in an attempt to coax Dango out from underneath. “Dango, sweetie,” you said, whipping the shoelace to the side, “Come out here so that I can look you in the eyes. Where is my planner, you whore?”

At a firm knock on your door, you shot up, dropping the lace. “Never mind,” you said, sliding off the bed, “Stay hidden.”

You opened your door on Aizawa, bare arm raised in mid-knock, wisps of hair plastered to his forehead by dried sweat, and a sweatshirt tied around his waist. He took two seconds to look over you before saying, “Get dressed. Civilian clothes. You have three minutes.”

Throwing on yesterday’s outfit, you rushed to follow Aizawa out of the dorm and off campus, nearly stepping on his heels while he wove through night pedestrians, pulling on his own sweatshirt to minimise skin contact once the crowd thickened.

You flipped up your coat collar to sneak a glance over your shoulder. “Is this a test?”

Aizawa combed his fingers back through his hair, gaze straight ahead. “Not for you.”

“Right.” You stepped more lightly, naturally falling back into patrol patterns: noting exits (narrow alleyways favouring the left side, underground into the subway station), checking vantage points (upper-storey windows in the resident buildings, non-industrial rooftops), honing in on light sources (yellow- and LED-tinted streetlamps, ambience from open businesses) and physical presence (close enough to brush shoulders with passerby [putting you on edge, because the slightest touch could be pivotal]). You had to consciously unclench your jaw, body flooded with stress it hadn’t felt in months. Swiping at the inner corner of your eye, you asked, “Does it have anything to do with the guy in the black hoodie and face mask following us?”

Aizawa laughed through his nose, once. “All right, then. What’s that ice cream place you and Shinsou went to all the time? Take us there.”

Bewildered, you changed directions to head towards Nekozawa’s, with Aizawa placing a hand on your shoulder to slow your pace, and by the time you pushed open Nekozawa’s glass door to the glowing, pink parlour, you were prepared to hold it open for your follower in the face mask. You watched his broad back as he ordered some ungodly, radioactive-blue ice cream with gummy bears before retreating to a table outside despite the dropping temperature, and Aizawa gestured you forward so that he could pay for the three of you.

Holding your ice cream, you hesitated at the door, swaying underneath the seasonal cat decorations dangling from the ceiling.

“Go on,” said Aizawa, retrieving the U.A. card from his wallet, “I’ve got to make a phone call, so don’t wait up. Don’t be too harsh on him; we’re here because he did a good job in the field today. Tailing you was extra practise.”

Nodding, you nudged open the door, bracing yourself at the cold, night air, and let it drift shut behind you as you approached the table, the farthest one from the pink lights.

Hood pulled up, Tenko bent over his blue monstrosity, face mask hanging by a loop over his left ear. Scuffing your boots on the concrete to announce your presence, you sat across from him, setting your cup on the cast iron before swinging your leg over the bench. You managed a cursory glance over what appeared to be a sketchbook before he closed it, and once he’d stowed it away, he swopped his spoon to his dominant hand to keep eating.

“You draw, Tenko?” To make him feel more comfortable, you kept your gaze towards Aizawa inside on the phone. “Do you think you’re any good?”

“Not yet. But I’m gonna be,” he said, clicking his pen and clenching it in his left hand, “I’ve got all these fucking artist’s gloves, so I might as well put ‘em to use.”

“Very nice,” you said, nodding, closing your eyes as you dipped your spoon into your ice cream, “But as a reminder, you don’t have to be good at something to enjoy it. I love doing stuff I’m absolute shit at. It reminds me of medieval bestiaries. They didn’t know shit about animals, but, boy howdy, did they have fun illustrating them. Did you know a weasel used to be called a polecat?”

Tenko huffed, his face mask fluttering. “It really is you.”

“Of course it is,” you said, beaming, and for the first time, you looked at him.

Tension flooded your teacup of a body and overflowed into the saucer and onto the floor. Heightened by the cold, a vein on the back of your hand strained and pulsed visibly, and, jaw locking, you lunged over the tabletop to grab him by the shoulders, shaking him.

“What the hell is wrong with you‽” You climbed over the table, pushed his ice cream out of the way (he shot out a hand to save it from toppling off the table, and he ripped off his face mask to set it aside before it fell to the ground), and planted your foot on his thigh and your elbows on his chest, caging him in as you forced him flat on the bench. “Why the fuck are you using your real name in your fucking Cipherstone username, you fucking moron‽ People could fucking track you!”

The man who had been Shigaraki Tomura eyed your fists in his hoodie and then his cup of ice cream. “You didn’t have a problem with it before.”

“I—” This idiot! “I didn’t know it was you. There are a lot of Tenkos.”

“Then there’s my logic,” he said, hands dangling by his sides, making no attempt to touch you—you didn’t know if you appreciated it or not. “I thought you knew who I was.”

“No, I fucking—I would have given you advice that was more specific to you, over the spiel I was giving interns.” Releasing your grip on his hoodie, you sat back up and scooted over on the tabletop. Though you wanted to keep holding him, to hug him after all he’s been through, he probably wouldn’t want that. “I’m—sorry about tackling you. I, uh—fuck,” you said, and, grimacing, you slid his ice cream back to him and reached across for your own, pretending with everything you’ve got that it was perfectly normal that you were sitting on a table next to Shigaraki Tomura, who’s been teaching you to play a video game, who’s apparently living at the end of the hall, who’s decorated his door with Eri’s silver tinsel for Christmas, who’s banned from drinking caffeine, who could rest his fucking head on your thigh if he wanted. Normal. Yeah.

“Again, I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to keep doing that,” he said, fishing out a gummy bear like you hadn’t lunged at him, “Your reaction was reasonable.”

“It—it wasn’t, really,” you said, laughing nervously, “I wasn’t expecting you. I mean, no one knows what—what happened to you. Afterwards. It was really unclear.”

“It was that way on purpose,” said Tenko, “It was thought to be better to emphasise the total destruction of All for One instead of whatever happened to his leftovers.” He shifted a bear to his back molars to bite into the frozen gummy better. “Nezu-sensei decided it was better to keep it muddled for now.”

Muddled was a good way to put it. There’d been so much chaos at the end of the war that so much never was accounted for. You’d think that the location of Shigaraki’s body would be high on the list, but satisfaction was found simply in the splintered, spectacular remains of AFO. Shigaraki’s name wasn’t cleared, per se, but in the aftermath, Midoriya especially stressed that yes, Shigaraki committed atrocities, but he’d been abused, groomed, and literally bodily possessed by AFO to think that way. Didn’t excuse him, but wasn’t entirely his fault.

The locations of the other PLF members—well, the core of the League, really—were public, if not vague. Spinner was in the States at a rehab that specialised in heteromorph trauma; Toga was at a local women’s facility called Sakura Grove, and Dabi was living with his family—he must have been that Touya on the phone, holy shit.

So, here he was, sitting on the bench at the same ice cream parlour you visited with the same friends who fought him, hunched over in oversized, black clothes you suspected were Aizawa’s, broad shoulders and faded scars out of place in the pink lights, white hair pulled back in a blunt ponytail with his bangs flopping over his forehead, seemingly unbothered by the toe of your boot pressing against his denim-covered thigh.

God. He’s scratched at his neck so much that it looks like he’s been beheaded with a blunt axe.

Tenko’s eyes flickered up to you, their colour deepening to crimson in the tinted lights. “So. You’ve got questions.”

“Are you okay?”

Tenko swallowed with effort, scowling. “Don’t start with a hard one.”

“Right,” you said, throat drying, “Who knows you’re staying at U.A.?”

“Faculty and staff. My therapist. The police force. The ramen shop Aizawa-sensei and I go to. The intensive rehab I was at before. The top of the hero commission. Touya, Touya’s father, Spinner, Toga. Eri and Midoriya,” he said, tongue swiping over his lower lip, “You.”

Somehow both fewer and more than you’d figured. “What exactly…is the situation? Aizawa-sensei was vague.”

“Officially, I’m like Eri: a ward of U.A. My old rehab thought I was good enough to live off their campus, so I’m back here, where I can be watched by people capable enough to bring me down if I go crazy again,” he said, brow furrowed as he traced the side of his cup with his spoon, “I should resent that, but it’s not like I have anywhere else to go, especially somewhere as comfortable as this. This is fucking stupid to say aloud, but fucking—fuckin’ All Might is the closest thing I have to family now, along with Midoriya.”

“I’m not following.”

“My grandma was the holder of One for All before All Might had it.” He pointed at you with his spoon. “So you can make the connection from there. But it’s stupid; I’m stupid—” He was shaking his head and staring into his lap. “—because it’s like I have a brother in Midoriya and a goddamn father in All Might—and then Aizawa-sensei’s acting like a dad, too, to me and Eri, and Nezu-sensei? Nezu-sensei is so fucking cool,” said Tenko, dragging his hand down his face, “He’s got a driver’s license! I don’t even have one of those. And he can type fucking 210 words per minute with those little rat paws, and I’m still getting used to using all five fingers, fuck.”

Cute. You scraped the bottom of your cup. “Hey, I think you type well.”

“Yeah, well, that’s why it takes me so long to reply in the in-game chat function. Why I prefer communicating over voice call. Learning new habits, and shit.” Tenko stabbed his ice cream with his spoon. “Nezu-sensei has arranged for me to train as an aftermath-clean-up hero. I had been—” His fingers on one hand circled the thumb of the other. “—in discussion with him in rehab about what I could do, and we decided I could consistently help when there’s collapsed buildings after attacks; I could dust the wreckage so that we could find hostages or make it easier to clean up and rebuild, and Aizawa-sensei and All Might-sensei have been working with me to control what parts of what I touch gets dusted so that I could create pitfall traps for holding criminals. It’s…going. It’s going,” he said, curling his lips in his mouth to moisten them, and with narrowed, determined eyes, he took another bite of ice cream, the blue staining the inside of his lips.

“Tenko, that’s a really cool application of your quirk. I hope you can find more,” you said, tilting your head and smiling down at him, “but—I have to ask—aren’t you tired?”

Tenko rolled his eyes. “Of course. You’re part of the group ensuring I don’t have caffeine.”

“No, I mean,” you said, shaking your head, “I mean, you don’t have to be perceived as useful. You’re—you’re just fine if you wanted to rest. You’re worthwhile just as you, not as—as a job, as a, I don’t know, a redeemed hero or anything. You can just be Tenko.”

“I know. My therapist keeps reminding me. But one of the most vivid memories I have from when I was living in that house,” said Tenko, sneering, “is that I desperately wanted to be a hero and that I would pretend to be one a lot. While I’m aware that I can never atone for what I’ve done, if I did nothing but rest, I’d be alone with my thoughts. And with what I’m learning to do, as a hero, someday, someone might…need me. Need my help. I imagine that’s a good feeling.”

You sat back, leaning on your hands, the cast-iron pattern cutting into your palms, to survey him. “You’re very much re-writing my first impressions of you as my gaming buddy and as the post-war Shigaraki. You’re surprisingly well-adjusted.”

He snorted. “I shouldn’t think it’s surprising. I’ve had almost a year and a half in intensive rehab, and I’m still in therapy every day.” He started listing on his fingers, starting with his thumb. “I’m on antidepressants; I know where my next meal’s coming from and when I’ll get it; I consistently have a safe roof over my head, and I know my friends are getting that, too. I have mentors who care for me as a human person instead of as a tool. I get to stay in contact with my friends and get to make new ones,” he said, nodding curtly at you before quickly looking away, “I’m fucking away from that sadistic fuckface. He’s goddamn dead and burned away to nothing. That’s the main thing. Everything else is a bonus.”

Tenko sighed, bangs fluttering with the movement, his shoulders straining as he leaned onto both his elbows on the table. He sighed again and scooped the last gummy bear out of his cup, and you let the silence carry on while you finished eating.

“Long phone call,” Tenko said eventually.

An increasingly grumpy Aizawa was leaning against the glittery wall inside, phone between his ear and shoulder, and furiously scraping the inside of his ice cream cup.

“Yeah,” you said, “but it’s been good talking to you, Tenko. I really appreciate you telling me all of this.”

“I would’ve talked about it sooner, but I figured you knew who I was and didn’t want to address it,” said Tenko, tapping his fingers one by one on the table.

Pulling the collar of your coat closer to your neck, you frowned, hesitating on how to phrase it. You watched your breath cloud in the night air before settling on, “There’s an off-switch?”

Brow pinching very slightly, Tenko followed your gaze to his hand, with all five fingers coming to rest on the cast iron, and he tapped all five of them on it for emphasis. “Yeah. There always has been. All for One kept it from me. Power of belief kept me jittery and alert my whole life.”

“So long as you thought you’d destroy anything you touched, you would?”

He nodded. “That bitch.”

“Agreed. We should kill him.”

And Tenko laughed. Just for a moment, barely making any noise, but he smiled with his teeth, grin stretching across his face as he looked away and eventually closing his lips, the smile lingering for a few more precious seconds.

***

You closed your laptop to answer the phone at work, clearing your throat to ready your receptionist voice before you picked up. “U.A. University Administration; how may I help you?”

“I need you to fucking murder me,” Tenko spat through the phone, angry and panicked, “I need you to rip out my bones and suck out my guts through a straw. He fucking let me hold onto them, and I’ve fucking gone and lost such a fucking iconic piece of—”

“Tenko, please, take a breath,” you said, relaxing your customer service mode but clutching the phone to your ear, and after catching the eye of the woman with jars of strawberry preserves waiting to see Nezu, you slumped over in your seat so that she couldn’t see you over the desk’s overhang. “Tell me what’s wrong. We can fix it. Are you alone? Is everyone else busy? Do you need to come sit with me?”

“I—fuck,” he said, and you heard some deliberately slow breathing, but his voice still had an irate, twitchy edge afterwards. “During our practise patrol last night, Aizawa-sensei was talking about support equipment for me. I’d never given it much thought, because it’s always been just me and my hands. He leant me his Eraser Goggles for me to think about for my—and I don’t know where they fucking are,” he said, inhaling sharply on the last word, “I’d left them on my desk, but I’d taken them up to the roof to sketch them, and then I’d brought them back to my dorm—”

“And Aizawa-sensei must have swung by to pick them up since then,” you said, pushing yourself back to slide in your swivel chair to the back of the reception desk, “because he was here at the beginning of my shift to print something off, and the goggles are on top of the printer. Relax, Tenko.”

“Hooooooly fuck, you’re kidding,” said Tenko, audibly deflating, and you smiled to yourself as you slid their band around your wrist.

You kicked yourself back up to the front. “You’re okay. You’re not gonna get in trouble. I’ll bring them by at the end of my shift.” You sat up straight, and the strawberry preserves woman was shooting a concerned look in your direction. “I’m at work, though, so I think we’d better end the call soon. Anything else you need?”

Tenko hummed into the phone. “Not really. You can’t be that busy.”

You smiled again, feeling—feeling domestic, as if he were your boyfriend calling you during work hours. How strange, Shigaraki Tomura. How interesting. “Would you believe I was grinding in Cipherstone when you called?”

“And you don’t call yourself a gamer,” he said, clearing his throat multiple times, “What skills?”

“Woodcutting and firemaking,” you said, opening your laptop again, “Are you feeling under the weather? Your voice had a bit of a rasp there.” Sounded like his old voice for a moment.

“Further cementing that Aizawa-sensei’s right to be worried about you. He says your brain’s going haywire analysing any detail work you can get, because you’re not out in the field anymore,” said Tenko, clearing his throat again (?), “Am I your new project?”

“Tell me what’s wrong, lest I pick up some damn throat lozenges for you before I come home,” you said, and a voice in the back of your head screamed that that threat was extremely cosy and intimate, especially since you’re claiming both of you have a home in the same place—which, sure, you both lived on the same hallway, but so did Aizawa and Eri, and please shut up; Shimura Tenko needs a friend, not a lover right now. Besides, that stupid hallway wasn’t really home for either of you but was more like a temporary holding cell.

“Fine. I’ve been throwing up all morning.”

“Thank you,” you said, electing not to make a pregnancy joke, “Do you need to see Recovery Girl?”

“No, I’m used to it, and I’ve already talked to her about it. I threw up a lot out of anxiety and stress when I was growing up with All for One, and now I’m throwing up because my body can’t handle the amount of food it’s getting regularly, which is fucking ridiculous, since it’s still less than a normal person’s version of three meals a day.”

What. The fuck. How can he casually drop details of deep trauma like it’s nothing? How could AFO let a child keep vomiting out of stress for years and years and never interfere? Well. Yeah, he could. You supposed that Shigaraki’s voice, as you first heard it as the USJ incident, was the ultimate result of that heavy strain on his throat for years. Explains some things about his teeth back then, too.

God. If AFO weren’t dead, you’d strangle him. Keeping a child physically weak because he’d be easier to mould. It was known that AFO had been psychologically manipulating Shigaraki, but now that you thought about it, manipulating his physical growth would have served AFO, too, since he was planning to move into Shigaraki’s body.

And what did this guy do now that he’s got bodily autonomy? Oh. Just. Play some video games. Talk with his friends. Try out some new hobbies. Make crafts with Eri.

It’s a shame AFO didn’t have a grave, because you’d be skiving off work to drown it in acid.

“My stomach is killing me,” said Tenko, “I’ve got to hang up to drink something and go to sleep. Knock on my door when you get home. I want to start a new quest as soon as you finish work.”

Home. He’d said it, too. He probably didn’t mean it in the same, domestic way that you’d been entertaining, but it made your heart swell. “Okay, Tenko. See you then.”

***

His therapist had assigned him homework: go on a planned, public outing with a peer, and stay out for at least an hour.

It wasn’t exactly a picnic you were packing, you kept telling yourself, scooting behind Tenko to get to the spice cabinet in the dorm kitchen, because that’d be too close to a date rather than homework. But the two of you packed a meal to take, with Eri sitting on the kitchen counter while she nibbled at rabbit-cut apple slices, and she held the thermos of decaf tea in her lap until it was time to stow it away.

After a short train ride and a quiet walk through midtown, Tenko stopped you in front of the back gate to what appeared to be a restored, historical estate, judging by the golden shachihoko shibi on each corner of polished hip-and-gable rooftops of the extensively aristocratic—mansion? palace?—that you could make out in across the distance of its sprawling grounds, the immediacy of which was the excessively well-kept, traditional garden that you and Tenko were breaking into.

“Is this legal?” you asked as Tenko reached through the grate to unlatch the doorway.

“I have an in with the gardener,” he said, sweeping the gate open for you and gesturing brusquely for you to enter.

“No, that wasn’t a joke,” you said, taking the few steps inside, finding yourself planted onto a polished, level stepping stone, and staring down a squeaky clean tsukubai despite the thin layer of frost over the water’s surface as the whole bowl began to freeze, “You can’t be doing anything even vaguely illegal, Tenko.”

When you said his name, he closed his eyes, pausing for just a hair in his relatching the gate, before facing you and shifting the strap of his bag farther up his shoulder. “Prude. Yes, we have permission from the owner.”

He kept looking back over his shoulder at you as he led you through the gardens, hopping across stepping stones to pass over a carefully shaped brook that led to a tiny waterfall near stone lanterns, weaving through trellises with the wintry shells of wisteria vines and shaped evergreens. He tutted and rolled his eyes when you stopped at the waterlily-coated koi pond, its fish swimming and flicking their tails in the artificially heated water (for some, odd reason, what appeared to be a compact duck coop had been constructed near the pond’s edge, its wood new and un-bleached by the sun like the rest of garden décor). You’d been about to ask about it when Tenko had jumped out of his skin at the sound of a deer scare, bamboo tapping stone.

“Stop laughing,” Tenko said, cheeks burning (and you tried not to take too much pleasure in that, but you couldn’t help it).

“Oh, a sensitive boy, a delicate boy,” you said, grinning as you hopped onto the same stone as him, cool, clouding breaths mixing together in the proximity, and you yourself could feel heat rise to your face. “Nothing to be ashamed of. Good traits to have, actually. Means you’re feeling secure and comfortable in your surroundings, if you’re off-set that easily.” Feeling bold—it was the cold; it was how the proximity already flustered him; it was how his hands were full because of the bag; it was—whatever—you reached for his silly All Might scarf and re-tied the front, fluffing it up to cover more of his neck.

You made the mistake of making eye contact: full of caution, his eyes kept darting from your hands to your face, searching for something, his lips parted, otherwise completely fucking frozen.

Were you making him uncomfortable? You stilled, your fingers still in the fringe of his scarf, tension tightening in your chest and jaw (clenching).

Tenko noticed. And—and to this day, you can’t believe he fucking did this—he ran his tongue over his lower lip and lifted his chin, exposing more of his neck to you. He then was suddenly very interested in the koi pond, the ruddiness spreading from his cheeks to his ears.

Throat dry, you gave his scarf a final tug and patted it (?) to show (??) a job well done (???). “Yeah,” you said, smoothly, like a smooth person, like someone who adjusts scarves of hot, in-process-of-reformation villains on the regular, “Where are we going?”

Tenko spun on his heel and strode away, muttering what sounded like, “Right into my grave.”

You pretended not to hear it and let him lead you to the only building unattached to the main house: a small, traditional teahouse that had a recent addition to it in the back. The creak of the bamboo engawa when you climbed onto it was muffled underneath the bright pealing of windchimes strung across the covered porch. Tenko was already kneeling at the tearoom’s sunken fireplace inside, its handle carved into a fish, fiery as its kindling, and was unpacking the travel teacups from the bag as you closed the door behind you, shutting out the cold, enveloped by the comfortable heat trapped inside by the cushioned walls.

Tenko must have arranged for this space to have been prepared for you. A kotatsu with floor cushions was tucked near the fireplace, pre-heated, with two further space heaters in the unoccupied corners, cords trailing into what must be a hallway linking the traditional and modern rooms, the latter of which was shut off from view. Beside a red-tinted wooden dresser stood an oddly empty tokonoma, and instead of a scroll or painting, amidst bits of pieces of scotch tape hastily half-torn off the back was a shittily cut-out, paper heart.

Shaking your head, you took a step towards Tenko, and the floor chirped at you, freezing you in place.

“Yeah, I don’t know why they do that,” said Tenko, pushing on his knees to stand, “They just do.”

“These must be nightingale floors,” you said, crossing to the kotatsu, a bird under each step, “The chirping’s caused by the way the nails rub against the v-shaped clamps holding the floor together. Have you been to Nijō Castle in Kyoto? These are in the hallway—supposedly used as a security measure, but who knows.”

“You need a hobby.” Tenko ripped the paper heart from the back of the tokonoma, crumpling it in his fist. A shred of it remained under the scrap of tape on the wall, which he bent towards to scrape off with a blunt fingernail.

“I have several,” you said, easing down onto a cushion and unfolding your legs underneath the kotatsu blanket, the luxurious heat swaddling your legs and hips. You fought the urge to curl up underneath it entirely.

“How many of them involve getting your ass thrashed by me in Cipherstone?” Tenko retrieved the bag from the sunken fireplace before returning to the kotatsu, and he sat on your left, resting the bag between the two of you.

You took the thermos of decaf tea when he handed it to you. “Tenko, you’ve been playing that game for years, and I just began. Of course my ass is gonna be thrashed by—you know how the game works. You have all of this previous information about the game that I don’t have.”

Tenko scoffed and slid your teacup across the kotatsu’s surface.  “As if I could conceal any information from you. You’re too…eh.” He waved it off, shaking his head.

“I’m too what?” You unscrewed the thermos lid, and steam surged upwards, rising to caress the planes of your face.

“It’s been unfair of Aizawa-sensei to make me tail you,” said Tenko, leaning your way, all five fingers curled around his own teacup as he stretched across the tabletop. “I’d have a chance of success if it were anyone else.”

“I’ll give you that,” you said, pouring steaming, amber tea with slices of yuzu into Tenko’s cup, “You’re getting quite good at it, not that you were bad in the first place. But yeah, it’s a bit mean of him to test your tracking skills on me.” He’d never said to stop, so you poured until liquid almost overflowed at the rim.

He gasped at the heat but nudged his teacup back to his place at the table, unable to hold it in his palm anymore. “I think I would’ve preferred working with Hound Dog-sensei for that. He’s less detail-oriented. I could win, if it weren’t you.” Jutting out his lower lip, Tenko glared down at his tea for a moment before slumping in his seat to slurp at the tea without picking it up.

“Don’t feel bad about it. It was literally and actually my focus for hero work, profiling and detail shit and being aware of my surroundings. Information stuff. Infiltration stuff.” Setting the thermos on the far corner, you cupped your hands loosely around your teacup, appreciating the warmth and getting cosier by the minute.

Tenko was rooting through the bag for the other thermoses, full of sukiyaki for each of you. “It’s clear you’ve worked hard to hone your skills. Were you this talented as a student?”

You accepted the new thermos, fingers clenching tightly around it. “Uh. I think I may have been better back then. More focused. More passionate, anyway. I had to think about it really hard back then, make conscious decisions to notice things, and now I think I do it instinctively. I think I’m slipping because of that.”

“Hm,” said Tenko, tongue rubbing over his teeth behind closed lips, and he opened his mouth to say something but shut it, instead twisting off the cap to his soup thermos. He took the first sip of sukiyaki broth and—and was absolutely beautiful (you couldn’t make sense of it beyond that; he was a mess of details that you couldn’t fit together into a larger picture that made any sense: white eyelashes light against his cheeks as they fluttered shut, face muscles relaxed, scars overlapping with laugh lines, cracked lips becoming moistened by the soup, both hands cupped around his thermos like a child, no strain to his posture, baggy hoodie swallowing him up, kotatsu blanket yanked up to his hips to cover his crossed legs, scar on the corner of his mouth delicately shifting with his baffled smirk when he caught you staring, a strange pink rising to the tips of his ears). “What?”

Uh. Hm. You pinched the bridge of your nose and then moved to rub your eyelids. “What were you going to say about me?” you asked, and you withdrew your hand from your face to raise the soup thermos to your lips, taking a mouthful of noodles and the sweet, salty broth.

Tenko shook his head. “I’m trying to avoid thoughts that fall back into my old habits.”

“Try me,” you said, holding his gaze when he met it, “I won’t tell.”

Weary, he broke eye contact, and he fixated on fishing out a certain slice of green onion. “We needed someone like you back then.”

Back then? When he—oh.

Back in the League.

Though you attempted to hide your grin by taking a sip of sukiyaki, you caught his eyes flicker to it. “You would’ve taken me? You would’ve let me in?”

“Would you have joined?” he shot back, a bit too quickly.

“No,” you said, rolling your shoulders and settling down farther underneath the kotatsu, “Never. But since you shared something you shouldn’t’ve, I’ll do the same.” You set your thermos down to rub your eyes again—God, you couldn’t look at him for too long, lest your intrusive thoughts hand you your ass. “I thought about it. About joining you.”

You dragged your hand down your face, peeking between your fingers at a muted clink. Tenko was staring at you, something fucking unreadable in his scrounched eyes, and both hands lay five-fingered and flat on the kotatsu, steam from his open thermos fluffing up hair on one side of his head. “You’re not serious. You wouldn’t have.”

“Not in the way you think,” you said, tilting your head back, “but I often thought, in the aftermath of the Paranormal Liberation Raid, what I could’ve done, if I’d known what I know now. And as the rest of the war was unfolding, I only wanted it more.”

Tenko blinked, slowly. “Tell me what you would’ve done.”

“Oh, you would’ve hated me, down to the dregs of my very soul,” you said, shifting to sit on your knees, “I would’ve started after your fight with Re-Destro, after the PLF was established. When you were letting allllllllll those heroes in, the sidekicks, the nobodies, anyone who seemed like they were with the cause. I would’ve infiltrated. Slipped in without notice. Hawks did, with the Commission, but I would’ve been going in as a free agent.”

“No one notices a U.A. student slide in between the masses. Re-Destro’s lackeys wouldn’t notice you at the door like I would. You get in,” Tenko said, taking his thermos in hand again but still engrossed in you, “What then?”

“There was a short period of time between the PLF establishment and your procedure, right? Around a month? That’s when I go. I worm my way into the good graces of some of the nine lieutenants—I’ve decided my pipeline would’ve been Geten to Toga to you. You’d just come out of an enormous battle, with Re-Destro and that city and Gigantomachia for a whole month. I heard you were bandaged up, on crutches, that you’d lost fingers that you regrew in that regeneration tank,” you said, eyes on his hands, one in a fist in his lap and the other around his thermos, five fingers pressing onto the grip but the pinkie finger hitched farther up than the rest, “That you’d given a speech and made your appearances regardless. That you’d pushed yourself to your limit and then broke yourself a little more. And you would’ve loathed me, because I would’ve come in, earned my way to your side, and I would’ve put my hand on your shoulder, slid it up your neck to cup your cheek to ask Aren’t you tired? Don’t you want to rest?” You smiled and huffed, shoving it down, and though his hard stare should’ve pinned you to your seat, you pushed on the corner of the kotatsu to edge yourself over to his side, a knee on his cushion. “I like to think that you’ve sighed, sulked a bit, reluctant to admit anything was wrong at all, because back then, you had no use for moonlight. But I would’ve made you look at me, taken you to a bed, made you lie down until your eyes fluttered shut and the tension swept through your body and left. And you would rest,” you said, finding yourself leaning over him very slightly, knees touching his, just enough so that he leant backwards just a fraction, “I would’ve made that month so soft for you. I would’ve taken care of you, when nobody was fucking paying attention to you in the way that they should’ve. I fucking—I wanted it.” You gripped the front of his hoodie, fist grasping more fabric than necessary to shake him. “I wanted it. I wanted to care for you. But I couldn’t. I didn’t know. And you were fucking alone, in an unfamiliar place, and it kills me to think about that.”

You ducked your head to wipe your watery eyes on your sleeve, taking a breath—and realising what you were doing. You loosened your grip, but before you could pull away, Tenko was cat-like quick to grab your sleeve—why won’t he touch you?

“I wouldn’t have accepted your help,” he said, quiet, controlled, holding you down with his eyes, hand shifting to curve under your sleeved wrist, signalling that you could escape at any time, “That was after the worst month of my life, fighting Machia, and I wouldn’t have accepted it. I had too much to do. I would’ve shaken you off.”

“No, you wouldn’t’ve.”

“I would’ve,” he said, a bare finger, featherlight, skimming over the tender, bare skin of the underside of your wrist (oh, wow), “I wouldn’t trust that easily in that short of a time. You’d have met me, and that’d be it. If you’d persisted, I would’ve ripped you to shreds and tossed you aside.”

“Tenko,” you said, both relief and tightness blooming from your wrist, “You couldn’t get rid of me if you tried.”

The hallway shoji slammed open, somehow rattling as it slid in its tracks and shook the walls, and you and Tenko scrambled apart, with you jolting backwards on your hands, grappling for your seat cushion, and Tenko banging his thermos on the kotatsu, hastily wrestling with keeping it upright as he flung his body to the side.

“Hey, fuck you, Touya,” Tenko spluttered out, elbowing himself upright as—as fucking Dabi strode inside, hands in the deep pockets of his black sweatpants. “You said you’d stay in the main house.”

“Don’t mind me,” said Touya, cool as you please, raising both of his hands in defence, “I had to ensure you’re not fucking in my bed.”

“What is—” Tenko clambered to his feet to cross to him, chirping with each stomp, and whisper-shouting once he’d corralled Touya into a far corner. “I said we’d hang out later today, Touya. You swore you’d stay inside and watch Naruto this afternoon.”

The polite thing to do would be to appear fascinated by the tea. You returned to your cushion and poured yourself another cup.

“Yeah, but I’ve been told I’ve got shit to do later. I’ve got to go to this fuckin’—fuckin’ family stuff. I don’t wanna get into it,” said Touya, at full volume, “and I wanted to check that your girl was real. Y’know, she looks nothing like someone who’d have GinzengTea as her username. Have you given it to her already?”

“Shut the fuck up. I was just about to do that, if you hadn’t interrupted, cockhead.”

“Cool,” he said, a bird-note as he shifted his weight, “I wanna see what she thinks.”

“Hell, no—”

“I helped pick ‘em out. Let me watch and have an ohagi, and I’ll leave,” said Touya, chirping towards you before he finished the sentence, and Tenko followed him, muttering under his breath.

Touya sat on the bare tatami next to you, joints cracking as he yanked the kotatsu blanket up his legs, shooting you a small salute and a concerningly charming smile. “Hey,” he said, tilting his head, eyes half-lidded, smile stretching to show more of his even, white teeth, “I’ve seen you before, yeah? When was the last time you laid eyes on me?”

Tenko pelted him in the chest with a plastic-wrapped ohagi, cutting off the ooze of charisma. “Show-off,” he said, nudging another sweetened rice ball your way.

You nodded but didn’t move to unwrap it, since you were still working on your sukiyaki. “I’m surprised you remember, Touya,” you said, the name feeling strange on your tongue, “It must’ve been years since I elbowed you in the tit.”

Eyes lighting the fuck up, you snapped towards Tenko when he laughed into his plastic wrap: still not loud, still not making any vocalisation with it, but releasing a heavy, sharp burst of air with a wide, open grin. He hunched over to hide more of it, using both hands to unwrap his ohagi—and in the moment he realised he’d been unwrapping it with only his pointer fingers and thumbs, he dropped the rest of his fingers onto the rice ball, still smirking to himself.

Biting your lip in your own smile, you turned back to Touya (you caught his moment of mild alarm at how thrilled you were when Tenko laughed—or maybe it was alarm at Tenko laughing at all—but Touya relaxed his eyebrows and shut his mouth the second you faced him again). “God, yeah, it must have been before that last battle that we’d met in a fight, and I’d gotten close enough to hit you, and…” You shook your head. “Actually, I don’t wanna talk about that stuff. It’s not who we are now.”

“That’s fine.” Touya nodded towards Tenko and took a bite of his ohagi. “Shimura, don’t you have something to give her?”

Shimura. That was his last name, you supposed, but wasn’t it odd that Tenko called Touya by his given name and that Touya called Tenko by his family name? Tenko didn’t make you call him Shimura. Well, you supposed that there’s only one Shimura now, and because of the number of Todorokis, it paid to be specific—

“Here.” Tenko set a flat box in front of you, flipping the buckle of his bag back over. “I was going to give it to you with more formality, but since this bastard showed up, I’m doing it like this.”

Biting the inside of your cheek, brow furrowed, you unpacked a pair of pale blue headphones, soft to the touch with a mesh headband so that your head wouldn’t ache.

“Noise-cancelling,” Tenko said, gabbling, frowning very slightly, “Rechargeable. There’s a detachable microphone so it can function as a headset. I wanted to do something good for you.” His eyes darted towards Touya, and they dropped to his ohagi’s bulging filling, seeping out onto the plastic wrap. “You need them, anyway. I’ve been sick of hearing you through those shitty earbuds; their sound is terrible, and when you said you’d lost your only pair—which I don’t fucking understand how you can lose those things, because they just fucking show up in my shit all the time, like a goddamn plague—I thought you needed something quality—just to make it easier on my end, obviously, so that I don’t have to tell you to yell into that shitty, built-in micropho—”

“Tenko,” you said, reaching over to place your tea-hot hand over the back of his, fingers curving with his along ohagi’s edge, “Thank you so much. I adore them. I’m really grateful that you would think of me.”

Tenko froze, the same as he had when you’d adjusted his scarf. Unable to look you in the eye, like a prey animal, stiff, shoulders tense, colour rushing up his neck to his face and ears again—but this time, he lifted his hand just a hair from his ohagi to press back into your palm, and the corner of his mouth twitched.

“Hoo, boy,” said Touya, startling the both of you when he slammed his hands on the kotatsu to push himself up, “I’ve had enough. I’ve had my little snack. I’m leaving.” Once on his feet, he stretched, pressing his hands to his lower back and arching it, grunting.

“Good fucking riddance, cocksucker,” said Tenko, rising and grabbing Touya by the elbow to haul him to the door.

“Yeah, yeah,” said Touya, dragging his feet, chirping slurred and confused by his movement, and when Tenko had him at the wall, trying to shove him out, Touya, smirking under your watch, whispered something to Tenko while forcing something into his palm. Touya ducked out as Tenko looked at what he’d accepted and, letting out a yelp, dusted whatever it was before he hurried back to the kotatsu.

(When you left the teahouse half an hour later, you discovered that he’d decayed only the wrapper and not the condom itself.)

***

“One moment, please. Nezu-sensei is in a meeting right now, but he’ll be out momentarily. Please take a number—yes, the ticket puncher when you first came in,” you said to yet another impatient and pissed client in the admin waiting room, packed to the gills with parents, press, vendors, potential sponsors, and, for some reason, Mt. Lady’s entire representative team. “By the door. If you’ll take a seat, we’ll be with you shortly.”

God, you could punt Nezu for this. Not that there was anything wrong with establishing a new, annual event for U.A.—a cherry blossom garden-set, competitive scavenger hunt coming up in the spring—but because of his casual comment that it would rise to the same importance as the Sports Festival, you were swamped with those eager to invest early. Unable to take a break, you had to work with your head bowed, desperately hoping none of these people recognised you and your failure, when all you wanted was to reply to Tenko’s messages on Cipherstone that morning.

Tenkopeito: You’ll like the next quest. You can pet a dog in it

Tenkopeito: Come over to my room this evening so that we can talk in person

Was he intending to speak with innuendo or with such sincerity that it cut right through you? Moreover, was he aware he was even doing it? Based on what you’ve observed, Tenko had no idea what he was doing to you, nor did he know how hard you were trying not to act on your attraction, though you weren’t even doing a great job of suppressing it.

It’s strange: Tenko evoked some strange, unnameable emotion in you like nothing else. You wanted to coddle him; you wanted to play stupid video games with him; you wanted to sweep his hair out of his eyes, and though you kept telling yourself that you didn’t, you wanted him to tell you how to touch yourself, how to touch him. You brushed it off. Another time. Perhaps never.

“Oh, hi!” Former pro-hero Ragdoll squealed your family name, making you jump in your seat. “It is you. I couldn’t tell from farther back in the line.” Fuck, Ragdoll would recognise you, since she and the rest of the Wild, Wild Pussycats trained Class A, and she specifically spent time with you on your tracking skills because of her Search quirk.

Don’t cause a scene. “Hello, Shiretoko,” you said, doing your best not to let your face be seen from over the reception desk’s overhang, “It’s good to see you. How can I help?”

When she beamed, she was as bright as ever. “Oh! The Pussycats want to offer our services for the scavenger hunt! We wanna get back into charity and civilian events now that we’re back from our mission for—but wait, you know all about that!” You didn’t. But her cheerful voice carried, and people were already turning towards Ragdoll, part of a hero team ranked in the top thirty. “I wanna hear more about what you’ve been up to! Since you left the hero business, no one’s known where you’ve been! Gosh, have you been behind this dreary old desk the whole time?” Ragdoll leant over the overhang, flicking at a loose strand of your hair. “I thought you were sent out on missions out of the country! Like, really important, top-secret stuff. It’s weird seeing you in an office, especially since I consider you a mini me. Why are you back at your alma mater? Did your agency not want you anymore?”

She wasn’t meaning to be cruel. Her loud, blunt sincerity, though, drew the attention of onlookers, and their flashes of recognition, subsequent judgment, and turning away made your chest tight. “I needed a break. That’s all.”

A thin, blonde woman in a burgundy overcoat leaning against the wall immediately next to the reception had been evaluating you, scanning you from top to bottom during the exchange. She didn’t bother hiding her curiosity, and when you shakily handled the rest of the conversation with Ragdoll, she turned to the short, softly featured man beside her. “You know her?” She hadn’t even tried to quiet her voice; it jolted you from Ragdoll, but you steeled yourself and continued printing off a schedule for her—and from the depths of your brain came the woman’s identity: Uwabami, the snake hero, one who usually flaunted her celebrity status but currently dressed down, without her hair snakes (a rattlesnake, a yellow king cobra, and a Japanese rat snake, which—shut up! You don’t need this information right now! Can you be fucking sane, please?).

Her sidekick—no, an intern, a student at U.A., some fuckin’ twink in the year below you, name escaping you at the moment—had some iota of tact when he looked you over, slanting his body away, as if he weren’t staring. “Yes,” he said, trying not to let you hear, “She’s my former senpai and nothing more to me. We didn’t run in the same circles. She’s the one who made that rescue a few months back, the one that got a lot of online backlash.”

“No, seriously,” Ragdoll was saying, “Why are you back at U.A.? Don’t you have somewhere else to go?”

“My—” People behind Ragdoll in line were listening. Trying not to show it. Your throat ran dry, and you couldn’t think of a lie or a pleasant half-truth. “My flat was compromised. My address was leaked, and eventually, people were—look, Shiretoko,” you said, forcing the words out of your mouth, “I really don’t want to talk about this. Here’s the printed schedule. I’ll talk to you later.”

You slid the paper across the counter, and she took it, waving goodbye and still beaming.

“Is this what happens when a hero career doesn’t work out? They just shove you back where someone will take you? At any old office desk?” that fucking twink was asking Uwabami, “I can’t—it honestly scares me to think I could lose myself and be misplaced like that. It’s wasting talent, don’t you think?”

“How can I help you?” you asked the next person in line through gritted teeth.

When Uwabami lowered her sunglasses to glance over them, you inhaled sharply and swung your swivel chair so that you wouldn’t see her. “I don’t know about that. Maybe this dreadful administration office is where she’s meant to be.”

Biting his lip, he shifted his jaw and crossed his arms, slumping against the wall. “You’ll always have a place for me, right, Uwabami? I don’t want this to happen to me.”

“Yes, I can print you out a copy of the same schedule. If you’ll allow me a moment to print.”

“Of course, Kakeru,” Uwabami said, ignorant of how you were gripping a pencil so tightly that it could snap any second, “You’ll never be left behind.” But then she fucking stared you down, deliberately holding eye contact while you were at the printer, and she said, “You’ll never need a place to hide. I’ll make sure you don’t fail.”

“Hey, how about you shut up?” you hissed, ripping the printer-warm schedule from the tray and storming back to your current client to shove it into their hands. “Aren’t Japanese rat snakes supposed to be in hibernation this time of year, anyway?”

***

Someone in Mt. Lady’s group recorded it. Someone posted it.

wizardjenkins11: jesus christ who knew u.a. had its own island of misfit toys

emotionalsupportdynamightsweat: nice to see that she kept her snark, but what is she doing back at school?? don’t heroes have some sort of paperwork component to their work. why isn’t she still at an agency

blood-is-thiccer: lol ua’s the only one who’d take the bitch. she’s being rude as hell to an actual pro hero. lameass quirk anyway and ass flat as hell lmao she fucken deserved that guy lighting her mailbox on fire

LynchianTiddies: You’re encouraging domestic terrorism???

blood-is-thiccer: that’s not domestic terrorism

LynchianTiddies: Then what, pray fucking tell, is it??

blood-is-thiccer: wikipedia.org/wiki/Vandalism

XylemPhloemBuckaroo: no but I get what that guy was saying about wasting talent tho. Out of everyone in that class a, she’s the only one not topping the fucking hero charts rn. She’s the only one who’s left hero work. What makes her weaker than the rest of her classmates? What happened to her to make her like this?

koiboi69: wouldn’t you quit if people were camping outside your house/work/grocerystore? And also FUCK, man, there’s no fucking need to say she’s fucking weak. that’s kicking her while she’s down

XylemPhloemBuckaroo: I’m not kicking her while she’s down. I’m stating facts and asking reasonable questions.

koiboi69: bro wouldn’t YOU feel down if you’d didn’t have a home to go back to??? going back to u.a. is like admitting defeat, like you couldn’t handle it on your own and need protection

mawatadaddysgorl: i love seeing updates on her bc it makes me feel so good about what i’m doing with my life

***

Uraraka and Shinsou texted you but couldn’t call, let alone come from across town. Aizawa was AWOL, and Dango was hiding under your bed, so you, blotchy-faced and damp, were crumpled on the floor outside of room 310, eating vending machine bullshit and waiting for Tenko to return home.

Exactly all the insecurities you’d been stuffing down for months and months, brought out to air in front of everyone. Instead of doomscrolling, you locked your phone and slid it across the hallway carpet, burying your face in your hands and stomach lurching to the thought that you might soon be plastered everywhere in sight, again. Another round of intensive laying low loomed on the horizon, especially now that your location was made public. Your little secretary job was good enough, and relocating elsewhere on campus would lead to more job training, which would be a bitch.

Where was Tenko? You needed him here to say something irreverent and vindictive. Something unhinged. Or you needed him to hold you, pull you into his lap, and bitch about the whole thing while watching a movie. Tenko had messaged you to come by after work, so why wasn’t he…?

The staircase door hissed open, Tenko pushing it with his back, reusable grocery bags on his arms, and—and wearing a cape? Who the fuck wears a cape casu—oh shit he’s in his hero costume.

You’d heard that he had one, designed by the same company that’d made Midoriya’s and Shouto’s, and the similarities were clear: a boxy sort of design due to thick fabric that still somehow hugged his chest, a minimalist utility belt, and sturdy, knee-capping boots, positively flaming scarlet in contrast to the dark greys of the rest of his jumpsuit. The most obvious connection with another hero, though, made your chest throb: his cloak fastened with the same clasp his grandmother’s had. His dust-blocking respirator lay around his neck for the moment, but what was most embarrassing for you was how your brain fucking wheezed like a boiling kettle at his bare arms, biceps bulging, every fucking inch of skin down to his fingertips completely on display like a goddamn slut.

Whore behaviour. Whore behaviour! You had to duck your head when he squatted next to you, because oh, now you could see the stretch marks on his upper arms, because he’d gotten large way too quickly to be healthy, and smell his fading Old Spice and sweat from being out on what must have been an emergency call, and he was setting his grocery bags aside, reaching out to graze your shoulder, and wow, he’d been complaining about how he didn’t have abs yet despite working out five days a week now that his stamina had increased, but that fabric clung to his lower abdomen, looking very, very flat.

Initially pinching the fabric of your sweater, he shifted his jaw and laid his hand on your shoulder. “Who am I dusting?”

“God, Tenko,” you said, trying to look anywhere but his arms, or his abdomen, or his fucking lips, but he was leaning so much over you that he occupied most of your line of vision, and the only way to avoid seeing anything besides wisps of white hair was to gaze at the popcorned ceiling. “You’re not supposed to do that anymore.”

“Oh, yeah? Who am I dusting?” He squeezed your shoulder, stretching his thumb out to rub at your collarbone.

“Unless you can dust everyone in the country, I don’t think decay will help.”

Tenko clicked his tongue. “I have been explicitly told not to do that,” he said, shifting to sit on his knees, “I have—” He dug into a grocery bag for a moment. “—this for you. You like this shit, right?” Tenko pressed a bottle of pink lemonade into your hands.

“Fucking. Fuck. I do,” you said, passing the condensation-coated bottle from one hand to another, chest tightening, blinking to keep the water levels low, “Thank you. You didn’t have to get me this.”

“I know that,” he said with a dismissive wave, and he paused, fists in his lap. “Would it help if I gave you a hug?”

(What the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what the—)

“Yeah,” you said calmly, like a calm person, and when Tenko opened his (muscular) arms, you crawled into them, wrapping your own around his back to rest between his shoulder blades. You rested your chin in a fold of his cape, cheek pressing against the side of his respirator, and you frowned as his embrace tightened, pulling you closer in a sloppy, unpractised sort of way, grounded by the steady rise and fall of his very solid chest.

(This felt…affectionate. Romantic, even.

But Shigaraki Tomura didn’t do romance, and you don’t—you’re not—you wouldn’t dream of being conceited enough to read someone’s perhaps thoughtless actions as flirtation, because why would someone be flirting with you? No one did that in general, and being U.A.’s humiliating problem child exacerbated the fact.

Moreover, why would the man who was Shigaraki Tomura, in the middle of his rehabilitation and re-discovery of self, even in the microscopic chance that he had the mental energy to experience romantic feelings, aim that romantic impulse towards you? It would make more sense if he liked someone he’d known for a while, like Touya or Spinner or Toga, and if his romantic feelings leant towards recuperative trauma-bonding, wouldn’t it be more apt to feel for someone at his rehab? His therapist, maybe? He’d idolised Aizawa before he’d met him, and even that would make more sense than latching onto someone as late in the process as you.

He’d gotten flustered when you’d tied his scarf, and Touya’s played terrible wingman. But still. You couldn’t know. You can’t read into this, even though reading into things had been your job, because—because no one would want you. You’ll have to…You’ll have to gather more evidence. You couldn’t be certain.)

Tenko hummed, chin digging into your shoulder, blowing strands of your hair out of his face. “I calmed a kid down earlier by hugging her. Is this working for you?”

(…oh.)

You sniffled and hid your mouth in his cape so that he couldn’t catch your pout. “That’s—that’s good that a kid allowed you to comfort her. What happened?”

“Pipes broke in an old apartment building in the Takoba district. The third floor collapsed under the pressure, and it trapped families in part of the building. I was called out to dust the rubble trapping them,” Tenko said, tapping his fingers high on your back in a ripple, “and they had me dust some other walls to help start the repairs. It was cool. And this one little girl who’d gotten out before the rest of her family was really nervous, and she was sticking to me, holding onto my cape. I was telling her that everything was gonna be okay, like you’ve taught me, and when I asked how she was doing, this fuckin’ kid extended her arms to me. So, I fucking hugged her. Picked her up so she could see what was happening better. It was weird, but it felt good.” Tenko sighed. “I hate how it wants me to be kind more.”

And fuck, fuck, that’s the last straw to this horrible day, and you’re crying, silently, controlling your breathing to keep Tenko from finding out, because goddammit, this idiot bastard man was surprisingly easy to love.

You buried your face fully in his shoulder, hoping he couldn’t feel any wetness through his costume, and you and Tenko sat in the quiet of the hallway for a minute, interrupted only by the A/C kicking in.

Tenko tried to part the two of you enough to look you in the face, but you doubled down, curling your fingers into the fabric of his jumpsuit and keeping your head bowed. Scoffing, he sat upright, making you follow his movements to stay hidden. “You gonna tell me what’s wrong yet?”

“Forget all that shit I’ve taught you,” you said, grumbling to his tits now that he’d changed positions, hating how stopped up you sounded already, “It doesn’t matter what you fucking do in the public’s eye, because there’s always gonna be someone who hates you. You can’t please everyone, so just fucking be yourself. That’s funnier, anyway.”

“Did you psychoanalyse some press member’s pathetic sex life, or something? Deduce an affair based on the way he knots his tie? Announce the state of his dick to the whole room because of the length of his pants?”

“Fuck off, Tenko. I’m not some pretentious-ass Sherlock Holmes bitch,” you said, pursing your lips and instinctively pulling back to glare at him—

And the moment you did, Tenko cupped your face in his hands, soft at the palm and strongly calloused along his fingers, keeping you facing towards him no matter how hard you tried to jerk away, struggling to stay upright. “You are crying.”

“No, I’m not,” you said, just as a falling tear touched his thumb. As you adjusted to his grip, your hands fell to his thighs, pressing against them in fists.

“Hm. Well, you don’t have to tell me,” he said, eyes on another tear trailing down the other cheek, “but you’re joining me to watch a movie with Eri. I got snacks on the way home.”

You sighed, taking in how big his hands were and how much of your face they encompassed, trying to memorise their feeling until they were snatched away forever. “I thought we were gonna start a new quest tonight. I was excited.”

Tenko balked and shifted into a sceptical grin. “You wanted to play Ciperstone tonight?” he asked, both thumbs rubbing your cheekbones and moving to swipe underneath your eyes.

You sighed again, shoulders heaving as Tenko released your face to flick tears off of his hand. “I didn’t want to be myself for a few hours.”

Tenko pushed on his knees to stand. “That’s actually related to what I originally wanted to talk to you about. Furthering the working-with-others mission,” he said, and he extended his hand to help you up. “What do you know about Dungeons and Dragons?”

***

“God fucking dammit!” Tenko slammed his palm to his forehead and leant back to balance on the kitchen chair’s back legs and then combed his fingers back through his hair, upsetting some strands from his ponytail. Groaning, he crooked his face your way, smushed his face against the chair back, and pointed towards his forehead, where a red splot was forming. “Hit me as hard as you can.”

“Being bludgeoned won’t change the fact that you rolled a three,” you said, nodding towards his d20, “I ignore his whining and continue to drain the fig tree to charge my spell.”

Behind the DM screen, Shinsou rolled his own dice, and once his eyebrows had shot up to his hairline, he turned to Midoriya. “I need you to roll two d12s and a d4.”

Tenko bolted upright, hastily sweeping his bangs out of his face. “Wait, what does Midoriya have to do with it? He’s across the fucking grove! He’s engaged in close-ranged combat.”

You turned away from Shinsou’s sly grin and towards Tenko, mouth nearly a straight line, yanking another cluster of grapes from the communal bowl, and shoving two grapes in his mouth. He pinched at his lower lip as he chewed, twisting and peeling at dead skin, frowning as he focused on his character sheet, scanning it for some sort of information he was forgetting and absentmindedly raising his knee to his chest, the heel of his foot propped on the seat of his chair (thank God his jeans were from Best Jeanist’s Moulded to Your Ass line: the denim strained with his muscles. Your eye twitched). In this particular morning, with the five of you squared off at Aizawa’s kitchen table, papers and dice strewn among grocery store bakery cinnamon rolls and coffee cups (Tenko’s was full of gatorade instead of coffee, much to his chagrin), as Tenko was throwing grapes into Touya’s mouth while Shinsou did math, the narwhal house slippers dangling off Tenko’s feet, it struck you that Shigaraki Tomura had become just some guy. One who went for walks to clear his head, who spent hours failing to do a kickflip on Present Mic’s skateboard, who used emoticons over emojis, who got nervous in fast food drive-throughs, who collected hero merch (of Aizawa fervently and Present Mic against his will), who was losing his sensitivity to foods like leeks and onions, a man who was growing more and more exquisitely mundane.

And goddamn, he’s clever and perceptive and patient and cheeky in a devastatingly attractive way, and he’s flustered easily, eager to do a thing correctly, and utterly, totally captivating in his endless discoveries of what it means to be alive.

You timed it so that the shudder and shock crossing his face could pass as response to Shinsou’s description of how Tenko’s enchanted crossbow bolt missed the Spirit Realm Necromancer entirely, instead sinking into the sacred Grand Oak and instantly shattering the tree as if it were glass, its elaborate root system holding up the floating grove splintering into thousands of tiny shards, the ground beneath your party’s feet crumbling at the slightest suggestion of the shifting of weight. But really he curled in his lips with a furrowed brow and stuttering breath when you reached underneath the table to graze the back of his hand, and when he forced himself to relax, shoulders slackening, frown fading, Tenko spread his fingers to cover more of his denim-clad thigh, which you took as a timid sort of consent. Biting the inside of your cheek, you eased your palm over the back of Tenko’s hand, lacing your fingers through his and going through the motions of reacting to Shinsou’s shattered earth. Neither of you looked at each other while Midoriya’s character suffered the Necromancer’s spell to increase gravity, each movement of Midoriya’s bulky, steel armour accelerating the fall of the floating grove. By the time each of you had had enough turns to land on solid ground, preserving little of the sacred grove but all surviving, Tenko finally squeezed your fingers back, curling his own to grip them more firmly, keeping your hand pinned to his thigh, steeling himself, sitting up straight, and proposing getting close enough to the Necromancer to drive a crossbow bolt directly into his skull.

Midoriya was already muttering to himself over the effectiveness of the action while Shinsou worked, and Touya irreverently flicked his dice at Tenko, chugging coffee with his other hand. “You plunge the bolt by hand into the Necromancer’s head,” said Shinsou, “but with your strength debuff still in effect, you only nick him.”

“I try stabbing it through his ear.”

“It goes through,” said Shinsou, nodding and running his hand back through his hair, which sprung back into place, “It doesn’t pierce the neocortex, so he can still summon another—“

“I stomp him to death with my hooves,” said Touya, picking at his teeth and running his tongue over the spot.

The rest of you turned to him slowly in various states of incredulity.

“You don’t have hooves, Touya,” you said, tilting your head at the same time Tenko rubbed his thumb over yours, prompting your breath to hitch and a strange warmth to travel through your body, making you feel dizzy.

Touya grimaced and reached for a cinnamon roll. “I take off my leather breeches and boots to reveal my hooves. I have been a satyr masquerading as a human this whole time.” He leant forward on his elbow, glaring at Shinsou and gesturing with his cinnamon roll. “I stomp him. To death. With my hooves.”

Tenko sneered, his teeth cutting into his lower lip, but he merely opened his mouth and closed it, poking his tongue into his cheek. “I suppose maiming a party member wouldn’t coincide with my character’s chaotic good alignment,” he said, heaving a huge sigh to—oh, that cunning rat bastard—to conceal how he flipped his hand over in yours to touch palms, weaving your fingers back together and squeezing again, planting them back on his upper leg, massaging between your knuckles with his thumb.

“What’d you just roll?”

“Nineteen,” said Touya, casting Shinsou a slice of his most charming smile.

Midoriya let out a little laugh as Shinsou bitterly plopped his head on his fist. “Fuck you, Touya. Congratulations. You clomp over to the Necromancer and stomp all over him. Stompy stomp stomp stompy stomp. It’s difficult to watch at the insane speed you’re going, so no one stops you from doing such a good job pounding him that he’s ground into dust. Bits of him drift away in the wind.”

Here Midoriya winced. “Weren’t we supposed to retrieve the soul crystal embedded in his gauntlet? We can’t get our reward from that Silver Age dragon rider if we don’t have it.”

“Correct,” said Shinsou, glancing down at his notes, “It has been stomped to smithereens. You can’t even make out what parts of the pile of dust were once flesh.”

Ready to bolt, Touya was getting up from the table and holding up his hands in defence, but before Midoriya could start a speech that would have been more apt for the number one hero to use on patrol rather than during a DND game, the door to Aizawa’s flat opened, and in he walked, covering his yawn with the back of his hand. He halted at the sight of the five of you around his kitchen table, taking in the scattered papers and remnants of breakfast before settling on your DM. “Shinsou,” Aizawa began, disappointment outweighing the exhaustion in his voice.

“You’re the only one with a table that could fit all of us,” Shinsou said, spinning in his chair to face him, “This dormitory doesn’t have a good common area like the student ones do. Would you really prefer us to—”

“We can find you a table; there’s plenty on campus.” Aizawa lifted his goggles over his head to set them on the counter. “Is this why Monoma kept slowing me down during patrol?”

“No,” you and Shinsou said, while Tenko said, “Yes.”

Aizawa actually smiled as he unwound his capture weapon from around his neck. “Look who’s the only one telling the truth.”

“Why would I lie to you, sensei?”

Touya smacked Tenko on the arm. “Suck-up.”

“You promise?” Tenko shot back, nose wrinkling with his grin.

“This coffee had better be amazing, because it’s the only thing keeping me from kicking you all out right now,” said Aizawa, rubbing a dry eye with the heel of his palm, other hand outstretched for someone to pass him a mug.

Tenko’s thumb bent inward to swipe the inside of your palm, a silent protest while he drank from his stupid little mug of gatorade, and when he noticed what was at the bottom, he flinched. It must have been Touya who’d put your dice in Tenko’s cup.

***

Following the video of you insulting Uwabami, you’re garnering an unnerving amount of attention again, but it’s clearly someone different than last time. Whoever your stalker(s) was this time around, they were careless and unsubtle—and this confidence to be careless left you jumping at the slightest sound when you were alone.

Furthermore, you legitimately couldn’t deduce your stalker’s motivations, because no clear message linked his actions. At first, you chalked it up to the dorm’s shitty dryer eating your bright blue thong, but when you couldn’t find your lip balm or trolley pass or eventually your favourite sweater, you concluded that something else was at play here, further cemented by more and more tiny things going missing—things that, if you were stalking someone, you would’ve selected as small enough not to miss.

But bizarrely, your stalker left shit of his own lying about. A phone charger appeared underneath your pillow; loose change and a travel pack of alcoholic wipes showed up in your bathroom sink. Hello Kitty band-aids, a hair clip that looked like one of Rumi’s ears, deep-moisturising hand cream, a tiny lizard keychain with a white hamburglar mask drawn on. You couldn’t wrap your head around it. What could your stalker be trying to say besides he could access your personal space with ease? Hoarding it all in the drawer with the GINSENG TEA X LUSTFUL BALLSACK hentai, you were struck with the notion that this may have been going on even before the video.

God, you missed when this school felt more like home instead of a holding cell, back when Shinsou and Uraraka and the rest were all still living together with you, when you could simply turn the corner to the common area to demand who took your laundry detergent and get an answer immediately (you also missed taking Aoyama’s bougie food, though you suspected that towards the end he was buying extra specifically for you). You sent an email to Aizawa about the potential break in security, and he promised to monitor the situation, though there was no evidence of physical entry.

Evidence. It’s been on your mind.

Sure, Tenko’s done stuff that could be read as romantic: how he plops your hand onto his head to demand you play with his hair, how he hovers whenever Touya stands too closely to you, how he gets upset on your behalf when people glare at you in public.

(Tenko grabbed your elbow, breaking your focus on the clothing rank. “We’re going.”

“But we haven’t found you a red coat yet.”

He lifted the hangers from your arm and slid them back onto the rack, despite belonging elsewhere. “Don’t care. I don’t like the way the cashier’s looking at you,” he said, jerking his head their direction, and when you tilted your head to glance at them over his shoulder, Tenko tapped your chin twice, guiding you to look back at him. “You shouldn’t have to be on guard when I’m with you.”)

If you were reading into it—and you were—Tenko was being so careful with talking about the pro-hero scene around you that it was almost as if he’d gotten a mission task from Aizawa to distract you from anything that might make you feel bad about yourself.

(“I hear you’re causing a lot of paperwork for my old man,” said Touya, pulling out another floor cushion from the storage space in the teahouse wall, “He hates that you’ve had to dust so many structures near his agency. He’s a decrepit creature of habit, and now that his commute is different, he’s—”

“Hey, Touya, tell us what flower bulbs you planted this winter,” Tenko said abruptly, clamping the lid on the pot hanging over the sunken fireplace, “Tell us what your garden’ll look like in spring.”

You shut your book, even though you’d just opened it. “Wait, are you saying that Touya is the one who keeps this garden? That’s—”

“You like it, sweetheart?” Touya dropped his cushion next to yours, ignoring the way Tenko was glaring daggers into his back. “Think it’s impressive?”

“Holy shit; I thought we were in the back of some professionally restored historical site the first time we came here,” you said, smiling at how Tenko’s petulant stomps to his seat chirruped, even when he scooted his own cushion towards yours (adorable; you’d think he didn’t like you giving attention to anyone else).

“Well,” said Touya, propping his hands on the kotatsu so that he could get a better view of Tenko, “With enormous pride and a huge erection, I’m pleased to announce that this garden is all my hard work.”

“Stop that,” barked Tenko, jabbing a finger towards Touya, “Stop bringing up your cock.”

“I could talk about yours, if you want. His monster cock is excruciatingly leaky and so shaped.”

Groaning, Tenko clonked his forehead on the kotatsu’s tabletop before Touya could say anything else, arm still outstretched. He peeked out from underneath his bangs towards you, tension leaving his body at your burst of laughter.)

He’s also taken your comment about silent admiration to heart. Over the discord call (through very comfortable headphones), you’d made a dumb joke about not being able to play for long, and he’d shut up immediately. When you’d confessed to lying and hoping you’d scared him, he’d replied seriously: “I want to protect my time with you. I don’t like it being taken away. I feel better when you’re with me.”

You’d frozen in the middle of weaving bowstrings while his character continued stringing them onto bows. You’d never have gotten that sort of remark at the beginning of your relationship. Tenko must genuinely be listening to you.

Anyway. You decided in the event that Tenko was collecting evidence, too, that you would leave him some.

The first time you’d been in his room had been for a specific purpose, which was to help him rub in his new facial scar moisturiser (not to take them away, or anything, because Tenko wanted to keep them, claiming he wouldn’t recognise himself in the mirror if he didn’t have his scars—and you thought they were devastatingly attractive, anyway—but just to keep them hydrated enough not to itch), but now you were here just to spend time in the same space. You were reading on his bed (oh, hohoho, his bed), and Tenko was drawing in his sketchbook on his couch by the window. With his mouth pinched in concentration, he squinted down at his paper, swiping away eraser shavings with his artist-gloved hand.

Drawing by natural light. Tenko was in room 310 because of its wide windows. It had been his one request when U.A. was placing him.

AFO had deliberately raised him in a bedroom without windows. You’d kill him if he weren’t already dead.

Thankfully, AFO’s influence was absent from Tenko’s dorm: Naruto sheets from Touya, an old Nintendo DS on his bedside table with Nintendogs in the cartridge slot, Present Mic’s skateboard propped against the coatrack that held only a black hoodie, unfolded but clean laundry in a basket next to a dresser with prescription bottles atop it, a mirror that served more as a bulletin board of Eraserhead merch than as a way to check his reflection, red shoes by the doorway, books borrowed from everyone from All Might to Shinsou to the ramen delivery guy strewn across the room, on shelves, his computer desk, his rug. The thing Tenko’d had to explain to you was a therapist-assigned painting hanging over his desk: he’d painted a murky, purple-blue, abstract sort of thing, and you were strangely touched when he’d explained it was Kurogiri (and now that you were looking, among his bulletin board of Eraserhead, a few drawings of Loud Cloud were mixed in).

There’s a lot of people in Tenko’s life who care about him now, and you’re happy to be one of them. Setting your book aside, you got up to sit next to him on the couch.

He paused when you sank into the cushion next to—well, no, you were basically sharing the same cushion, especially since he unfolded his legs from underneath him so that you could get closer. You scooted over so that your shoulders touched (scandalous) and looked over his drawings.

He’s drawing your DND characters. While his sketches aren’t exactly good, you can clearly tell who’s supposed to be whom, and they’re fun to look at, so that’s all that matters. At the centre is your character, Ginseng—you named it after your Cipherstone account because why not—in the process of spell-charging. Your character relies on the traditional ritual of tea ceremonies, from the growing of the tealeaves to serving it, summoning whatever tools you needed, like the table and dishware, and if an enemy got caught by the conventions of politeness of the tea ceremony, they were trapped in it until they’d drunk their teacup dry. Tenko had drawn her early in the spell-charging process, with branches of tealeaves sprouting from underneath her skin, with her harvesting them from her forearm. It’s rather flattering, the way her determined expression lit up her face.

Next to Ginseng was Tenko’s character, Peito, also lifted from his Cipherstone character. He was sitting on the same log as Ginseng in the middle of camp, backs touching while he cut feathers as the first step in the fletching process. His carved-willow quiver leant against his knee-high boot, red even in a fictional universe. Peito’s hands were bare, five fingers pressed against his knife and arrows.

Further back in the camp (really just towards the top of the paper, since Tenko wasn’t good at foreshortening yet), Midoriya’s character, Jackrabbit, was holding up two hangers, one with his steel and the other with sleek, black leather armour. A nice touch, really, since Midoriya had swopped Jackrabbit’s primary armour to the more lightweight leather since the shattered grove incident, and wow, you could even tell it was leather based on the pencil strokes.

Seated nearby, Touya’s character, Granddaddy Slapkins, roared with laughter at him. His shoes lay next to him, his hooves out. For some reason, he’s not holding his pet duck; he’s instead cradling what looks like your character’s wild shape, a cat with the same chocolate-point markings as your real cat (your character’s shapeshifted form was just Dango, but Tenko didn’t know that. He still didn’t know Dango existed, because cats were still illegal in the dorms, and Tenko, that little brown-nosing shit, would probably tell Aizawa about her. Cute how he’s only a suck-up to Aizawa, though).

Your favourite detail, though, was how his character was smiling. Unabashedly. As if it were a no-brainer, as if doing anything else made no sense at all.

With a stab of affection, you nuzzled into Tenko’s shoulder, resting your chin there while he sketched loops of chainmail onto Granddaddy Slapkins’s shirt, and a shiver racked through him.

“Oh, are you cold?” you asked, sitting back up and heading over towards the bed, “Let me get your blanket.”

“Wha—no, I—sure,” said Tenko, setting his pencil on his sketchbook and the whole thing on the arm of the couch, eyes half-lidded as you returned with his throw blanket.

And without thinking, you moved on impulse, as if all higher orders of cognition had checked out for the night, because you behaved like you did in your head whenever you thought about Tenko: casually, intimately, and domestically. You wrapped the blanket around yourself and knelt on the sofa before swinging a knee over his lap, and you snuggled into his chest, clutching his shirt and nosing at his neck.

Your eyes snapped open.

(What the fuck?

If this had been a planned attack, then it would’ve been a thing of brilliance: casual, seeming to meet a physical need [heating a chill] in the name of physical closeness. But you fucked it. This wasn’t planned, and thus you don’t have a way out of it without otherwise betraying your romantically-motivated interior.

Thank fuck he’s frozen up, too. But how do you get out of this? God, you really shouldn’t be teaching him how to navigate interpersonal relationships when you get yourself into shit like this.)

You swallowed thickly, pulse pounding in your ears.

“I need your advice.” Tenko’s chest barely rose when he took his first breath since you climbed onto his lap. “What would be the socially expected response to this?”

“Uh. That depends on if you’re into it or not,” you said, forcing yourself to sit back in his lap to give him some space, “If you dislike it, then it’s to get me to get off of you, and if you welcome it, then, uh. Anything else.”

Tenko unclenched his fists at his sides and—a pause, shifting his jaw—he let his hands rest at a barely-there touch on your hips, dragging them upwards to your waist, applying enough pressure there for you to feel all ten fingertips through your shirt. “Is this,” he said, wetting his lower lip, and he couldn’t continue, instead swallowing saliva.

Gathering your nerve, you wove your hand through his hair to scratch at his scalp in the way he’d liked when you’d played with his hair, and at the familiarity, Tenko huffed, shutting his eyes tightly and pressing his forehead to yours in a rush, almost knocking them together. He took another breath, heat washing over your face, and you slid your other up hand to cup his cheek.

Tenko shivered again, and he clamped his hand over yours to keep it there. “Are you sure this is what you mean to do?”

He seemed receptive enough to it, but you couldn’t be certain. “Yeah,” you said, “If I’m reading it right.”

“But it makes no sense. I’ve got to be reading it wrong,” Tenko was saying, frowning, “No one would willingly like me—”

“For fuck’s sake, Tenko—”

Practically slapping your other hand to his cheek, you kissed him, pulling him closer, one of his hands still over yours with the other now gripping your waist as if he’d never let you go. Tenko grunted into it, surging forward to keep his rough lips (sticky from his freshly applied pineapple-beeswax chapstick) seared to yours. You felt, more than heard, his miniscule whimper at the back of his throat when he opened his mouth, sliding his tongue into yours, and you could hardly keep kissing him for smiling. But he needed a breath before you did, so you broke it, sensing he wouldn’t do it out of wanting to keep you nearby.

Panting, Tenko tried and failed to push your hair behind your ear in an attempt to be suave. “Now, I perceived that as romantic.”

“It was romantic, you muppet,” you said, thumping his chest with the back of your hand.

“Good.” He cleared this throat. “Cool. Excellent,” he said, shifting underneath you (with difficulty, under the constricting denim of his Moulded to Your Ass jeans), “I want it to be, when it comes to you.”

“Thank God, I really want that, too,” you said, sighing, “but, like, I really don’t know if it’s ethical to pursue a romance this early into your recovery—”

“The fuck is wrong with you? I want it. I want you.” Frustrated, Tenko grabbed your hips in an iron grip and ground up into you, slowly, and that tight-ass denim let you feel precisely where in the drag of his hips his cock touched you, letting you feel the shift in pressure at his tip, down his shaft, to the first curve of his balls. “I thought I was alone. I thought no one else would ever be able to understand me, having fallen from what I was raised to be. Fallen,” he said, spitting, “Such a nasty word for what we’re actually doing: we’ve been reborn together. We get to build our lives back up together. We get another chance at it. I wanna spend mine with you.”

He strained his neck upwards to kiss you again, insistent, moving with confidence when he took your lower lip into his mouth but only nibbling on it once, despite being posed to bite down with vigour.

“I don’t give a rat’s ass about what anyone else thinks of you and what anyone else thinks of me. I—”

“That’s not true,” you said, your turn to catch your breath, “You care so much about what Aizawa-sensei—”

“You know what I mean,” he said, shaking his head, hair falling out of his loose ponytail, “You think of me as me, and that’s all that matters. If you’re really that fucking worried about me getting into a relationship too early, go talk to my therapist. She says you’re good for me. A good influence, anyway.”

“Holy shit,” you said, mostly in reaction to how Tenko started trailing frantic, dry kisses down your neck, and, realising you should probably be doing something back, you rolled your hips, feeling awfully warm under the blanket.

He bucked back up into you, more out of desperation to keep you close over a need for friction but still giving you a taste of what it would be like to have him thrusting into you. “Fuck,” he said, almost grumbling, “I’d say fuck being ethical about it, because I’ve wanted you for a long time. I got hard when you shook me by the shoulders outside of that ice cream shop; I thought my soul was gonna leave my body when you adjusted my scarf. Hell, I—” He cut himself off, grinning in a way that, back before you knew him, you might have described as maniacal. “I wanted you back during the war. I saw you fucking elbow Touya during that battle, and the way you made him crumple to the ground was so fucking sexy. And you recovered from when he swiped at you so easily; you slipped around his attacks like it was fucking second nature. I thought it’d be cool to have you by my side, having you—” He realised what he was saying, and he relaxed, smile fading into a curious, pensive sort of look while he brought his thumb to your kiss-swollen lips. “And now I get to.”

You kissed the pad of his thumb, blinking slowly.

“So. Yeah,” he said, dropping his hand to your shoulder as he broke eye contact, a little red, “I think it’d be cool to be with you, even if we have to be careful.”

“That’s the thing, Tenko,” you said, biting the inside of your cheek as you gathered your thoughts, “I’m scared, because while I know that we should, because that’d be safe, I don’t want to be careful. Since I’ve quit being a hero, every single thing about how I’ve been living has left me feeling empty and alone, because it’s like I’m wandering through limbo. Everything screams that whatever I’m doing now is temporary, that it’ll pass, that I don’t truly belong in this situation, because I’ll find what I’m supposed to be doing later and my real home is somewhere down the line, but—fuck.” You rubbed your eye with your fist. “You, Tenko. You don’t feel temporary. You feel forever.”

Underneath you, Tenko stretched to pop a crick in his back, and he tilted his head to lie on the back of the couch. His ponytail had come loose, and his hair splayed against the fabric as he stared at you, one hand idly rubbing at your waist.

“Well. You’ve got to belong somewhere,” he said eventually, and he tapped all five fingers onto your thigh. “It could be with me.”

***

Dango was missing.

Incredible how the best evening of your life preceded the worst day you’ve had in years. You called out of work and spent hours scouring the dorm and then campus. A gruelling, miserable sort of day, anyway, grey and rainy and cold, and the campus was swarmed with people setting up for the scavenger hunt event later this month, populating the area with non-U.A. personnel and construction. Your cat was out in that mess, and you didn’t even know where to search first. It’s loud, scary, and wet, so Dango would most likely be hiding and not come when she’s called.

Had Dango escaped your flat? Had your stalker stolen her? Had she been confiscated by U.A.?

You couldn’t call any faculty for help; they’d get onto you for having an illegal cat on campus—and Hound Dog, the one who’d be the most help, might just scare her to death. Too early in the morning to call any of your friends, and you doubted they’d alter their busy schedules to help you out of a situation you should be able to fix yourself. But damn it, how come your own tracking skills only worked on people?

You shook yourself, coming out of your spiral the best you could, and you were close to hyperventilating. You sat down on a curb.

You found yourself calling Tenko, despite it being too early in the day for him to be out of training, filling with dread about never seeing your cat again and having to clear out her stuff from your room. Pulling your soaked jacket closer, you wiped at your nose and waited at the dial tone.

“Hey, I thought you couldn’t call during work. Miss me that much?”

The second you heard his strangely chipper voice, you started crying into the speaker.

He inhaled sharply, tone shifting. “Tell me who the fuck I’m stomping to death with my hooves.”

Ducking your head, you managed a smile but continued to fucking sob. “You don’t—don’t have to kill anyone, Ten—Tenko. I’ve f—fucked up.”

“What’s wrong? Where are you?”

“I’m on cam—campus,” you said, unable to speak for a full sentence without having to cut yourself off to keep bawling, ugly and loud and getting snottier by the minute, “It’s my fucking fault that I haven’t been ta—taking my stupid sta—stalker seriously, and I should’ve reported it, but—but I—goddammit!” The rain picked up again, coming down in rapid, fat drops, and, shielding your eyes, you rubbed your phone screen on your sleeve, not that it did much. “Sor—sorry. Rain got heavier.”

“Where on campus?”

“No, Te—Tenko, I’ll get up. I’m coming to you,” you said, sniffling and pushing on your knees to stand, wet and hungry and ready to crawl into your sock drawer to sleep for days. “I—I’m just so fucking pissed at myself, because my cat is fucking lost, and I could’ve sto—stopped it if I hadn’t been so secreti—tive.” Hands shaking, you yanked your soaked hood over your head and trudged towards your dormitory, and you kicked gravel, rocks scattering over the path, before losing your footing on it and nearly falling. Fuck this.

“You have a cat,” said Tenko, losing his fervent. “What’s it look like?”

“Beautiful.”

“I need more than that.”

“She fucking—I based Ginseng’s cat form on her, okay? She’s this enormously fluffy thing, mostly whitish with a brown face and legs, and it makes her look like she’s wearing a mask and thigh-high socks like God’s sluttiest little jester,” you said, knocking on your dorm’s mailboxes for luck out of habit as you passed them, “And you can’t tell Aizawa-sensei about her, because if she’s taken away the moment I find her, then I—”

“I have her,” said Tenko, “She’s in my dorm with me.”

You ran the rest of the way to his room, panting and absolutely disgusting by the time you got there, and when Tenko opened his door, there was Dango, loafing on the back of the couch and watching raindrops race down the window.

“What the fuck,” you said, dropping your wet coat and toeing off your shoes, “How the hell did she get in here?”

Tenko shrugged and hung your coat next to his hoodie. “Can she open locked doors?”

“I hope to fuck she can’t,” you said, and you rounded the couch to wrap your arms around that dear little loaf, and Dango jumped off the couch to crawl underneath it before you could fully hug her. “Oh, good. She’s fine. Acting like normal.” You sat on the couch’s arm, adrenaline evaporating to render you boneless.

“She was in my room when I came back from training. We ended early today, since Aizawa-sensei has something.” Tenko stooped to yank two bottles of gatorade from their plastic rings and headed towards the sofa to offer one to you. “She didn’t seem upset or hurt. She’s been sitting there, napping on and off.”

You accepted it and twisted off the cap. “So, who put my cat in your room?”

“Why would anyone do that?”

“I don’t know,” you said, taking a shallow sip, careful not to overwhelm your agitated stomach, “They’d have to know about Dango in the first place, and I suppose my stalker would, since they’ve theoretically been breaking into my room.”

Tenko paused mid-sip, and he hastened to swallow. “Someone’s been breaking into your room?”

“Yeah,” you said, easing down the arm of the couch and onto its cushions, “I think. There’s no physical sign of entry, but my shit keeps going missing, and stuff that’s not mine keeps showing up. Let me tell you, I need some of that shit they’ve stolen; it’s hard to replace—”

Tenko touched your lips with three of his fingertips to quiet you, and he gestured for you to stay put while he scrambled over to his closet, where he stood on his toes to retrieve a wicker basket from the top shelf. He dropped the thing into your lap. “Are any of these yours?”

All of it was, missing things you blamed on everything from Dango to your stalker to your own forgetfulness: your favourite sweater, your trolley pass, lip balm, your shitty earbuds, your good pantyhose, your planner, your d10, and, among many smaller things, even that bright blue thong you’d lost in the wash (Well. It’s better to find your thong with your new boyfriend over finding them returned to your dorm coated in your stalker’s cum, you supposed).

“I was losing my goddamn mind,” Tenko was saying, “Stuff kept showing up. I thought it was a test at first—”

“I don’t have a stalker,” you said, absentmindedly rubbing the fabric of your thong between your fingers, “Your shit has been—you read that GINSENG TEA X LUSTFUL BALLSACK shit? Tenko.”

“Oh, you have that?” Tenko scratched the back of his neck, but not in his self-harm way; it reminded you of Shinsou’s nervous habit more than anything. “Haven’t you read it? Isn’t that what you were naming your characters after?”

“Ah, ha, ha. Moving on. What is important, though, is why and how this is happening to us.”

“Yeah, I don’t…”

The two of you spitballed for a while, long enough for the both of you to finish your bottles of gatorade and for Tenko to start another, and neither of you came up with anything substantial.

“Hell with it,” said Tenko, standing to stretch, his movement disturbing Dango from her nap in his basket of clean laundry, “Let’s go ask Aizawa-sensei.”

Aizawa was not pleased when he discovered the both of you waiting in his kitchen, but he listened to the story, and when you were done, he stepped out of the room to make a phone call. When he came back, he looked even more exhausted than when he’d first come in.

“I’ve just gotten off the phone with Sakura Grove,” said Aizawa, wincing when his bones creaked as he sat in his chair, “Tenko, do you remember villain in-fighting within the PLF? In particular, I’m asking if you remember breathing in a pink dust cloud. It would’ve been in Deika City, in the month between your fight with Re-Destro and your body modification surgery. If our sources are accurate, you would’ve been with Touya.”

Tenko scrunched up his face. “Why would I have been—hm.” Frowning, he reached into the bag of popcorn you’d commandeered from Aizawa’s cupboards. “I know what you’re talking about. They were only letting me eat healthy stuff in the week before I went under. Touya was taking me to scrounge for something salty and shitty for me, because I couldn’t take it anymore. He started hitting on someone he thought was a waitress, and she—this is why I remember it—she compared the width of her hand to his thigh and said no thanks.”

“That’s Ito,” said Aizawa, sighing and crossing his arms, settling his chin into his capture weapon, “When did she use her quirk?”

“She shoved her hand on Touya’s face when he opened his stupid mouth again, and he passed out with swarming, pink particles floating around his head. She turned to me—and she must not have recognised Touya, but she knew me, because her face lit the fuck up. She never touched me, but I remember having to sneeze.”

“She never told you what her quirk did?”

“I woke back up in the PLF headquarters. I assumed whoever picked me up had killed her and that her death negated any effects.” He narrowed his eyes. “Why? What does it do?”

Aizawa let out a soft laugh, muffled through his capture weapon, and he jerked his head in your direction. “You tell him,” he said, snatching the bag of popcorn and heading towards his bedroom.

***

He’d been nervous about wearing a suit. They reminded him of AFO.

But you’d strayed away from dark colours and too much structure, so his light greyish-blue suit jacket stayed unbuttoned even as you leant across to the passenger seat to adjust his All Might tie for him (a Put Your Hands Up Radio tie had been offered, but Tenko had already closed his fist around the striped tie Midoriya would loan him). Part of his bangs had been pinned back to show off his annoyingly handsome face, especially in how his sharp, red eyes observed caught every movement of your terrible attempt to tie the tie based on the pictures Aizawa had sent you.

“We’re not gonna be late, are we?” Tenko drawled out, the corner of his mouth quirking upward, hand resting on the car ceiling as he angled his chest towards you.

“Shush; we are in the parking lot,” you said, looping the larger end. Or were you supposed to be looping the smaller one? “Besides, the world won’t end if we’re a few minutes late to my class’s annual reunion.”

A flimsy excuse for a party, one made because hero agencies needed some sort of named event as an excuse to dismiss your friends en masse. But it was spring again, and they were coming out of the winter blues, and they wanted to see you again, so, hey, why don’t we work something in around your schedule? If you can’t come to this date, then we’ll reschedule it until you can.

And, like. They knew. They knew Tenko was your soulmate. You suspected they all wanted to see what he was like now, too, because no one but Shinsou, Midoriya, and, apparently, Bakugou had known.

You undid the loose knot and tried again. “Are you nervous?”

“No,” he said, scrutinising the tacky balloons and streamers swaying in the night breeze outside of the otherwise intimidatingly elegant venue, “but those kids might be.”

“Those kids happen to be friends my age,” you said, “and I’m barely younger than you are. They know you’re coming. You’re fine.”

Tenko sucked in through his teeth, tapping the roof of the car one finger at a time. “The last time they saw me was as a thing. An object of destruction.”

“Well, they’ll definitely see you as a human person when I spill how you designed a unicorn DND character for Eri.” You pulled the fabric taut but kept it from lying closely to his neck (a boy didn’t like feeling constrained). “You know what? This tie is as good as it’s gonna get.”

He ducked his chin to examine its knot. “It’s shit.”

“It adds to your devil-may-care, reformed-bad-boy sort of charm,” you said, giving the tie a final smooth-down and poorly suppressing your smile when you felt his muscles through his shirt. “Mathematically, there are only 85 ways to tie a standard tie knot. I don’t believe we’ve reached any of them.”

“How do you know these things? You’re unbeliev—” Tenko jerked his face out of view of the window as Aoyama and Kouda, gesturing wildly, strode past the car and into the venue. “Listen,” he said, clearing his throat, “I know I don’t care and that you don’t care, but other people will. Your reputation is gonna plummet right into its grave if we’re out in the open together.”

You shook your head, letting your smile show. “So, I fucked part of a rescue job almost a year ago. So what. So I’m dating my soulmate. Am I supposed to do otherwise? Honestly, Tenko,” you said, curling loose strands of hair behind his ear, letting your fingers linger around his cheek and neck (he leant into the touch), “I don’t care. I would’ve chosen you even without the soulmate bond. You’re too endearing to pass by. You’re too…babygirl.”

Tenko had been guiding your hand to his mouth, and he snorted before it got there, warm air scattering in a short burst. “Don’t call me that,” he said, pressing his lips to the centre of your palm and waiting until you met his gaze to retract them.

A different warmth shot to your lower stomach, but you had to keep pressing, for the sake of the bit. “Oh, then what should I—darling? Honey? Pookie bear?”

He scoffed and nipped at your pinkie. “None of those are good.”

“Tenko.”

He breathed in, shoulders rising, eyes fluttering shut. Taking a moment to kiss the tiny bite mark on your finger. “Yeah,” he said, opening his eyes in a slow blink, catlike, “Feels good. Feels—like coming home.”

Beaming, you reached down to lace his fingers through yours. All five of them squeezed back. “Then let’s go.”

soulmate trope taglist: @bakugouspsycho, @pansexualproblemchild, @doonaandpjs, @sunsetevergreen, @the-coffee-is-on-fire, @liberace2, @ladymidnight77, @nonomesupposedto, @gooooomz, @kissmebakugou, @pachiibatt, @celestair, @tiredkittykat, @cheshireshiya, @90s-belladonna, @infjsnightmare

[hitomisuzuya]

Aventurine x fem!reader. Smut. Cunnilingus. Fingering. Edging. Soft Dom! Aventurine. Mind break

Still thinking about Aventurine. Bear in mind, I know ZERO about gambling😂 My birthday is on Wednesday.

When you innocently asked Aventurine to teach you about gambling, he adapted a rather unique method to teach you. And one that was very, very fun for him.

Cognition was utterly failing you right now, thanks to Aventurine's tongue swirling around and around your clit. He scooped your clit into his mouth to suck on, chuckling into your messy pussy as you let out a loud gasp of pleasure. Your fingers tangled in his soft blonde hair, pressing his mouth down onto your cunt as you grinded on his tongue.

If Aventurine's hypnotic eyes weren't focused solely on you, they would've rolled into the back of his head from how good your juices tasted saturating his tongue. "Tell me, princess, how many numbered slots are on a Roulette table?" He purred, releasing your clit with a soft pop to kitten lick it.

Your legs twitched as jolts of pleasure made your clit swell and throb against his tongue. You were struggling to think, and Aventurine was enjoying the show.

Whimpers as you writhed on his bed, furthering showing your struggle to think as his drool pooled between your folds. "Thir-Thir-" Pleasure burst white hot behind your eyes from his long, languid kitten licks, "Thirty six," You finally managed between moans.

"My good girl, that's right," Aventine purred into your pussy, taking your clit back into his mouth to suck on. Your walls clenched around nothing hearing his praise. Even the smallest words of praise (or degradation) made you fall apart faster for him.

You tugged on his hair, heat and tension of your approaching orgasm building tighter in your stomach. Aventurine had been working your clit over for who knows how long, always keeping you on the cusps of cumming before he quizzed you. Keeping the promise of an orgasm dangling just in front of your face.

A fun way to encourage you to think while you fell dumb on his tongue.

Aventurine brushed his nose on your clit, prodding his tongue on it before he pulled away. "Split betting on two numbers pays what?" A sadistic part of him purposely chose harder questions that required more thinking. Your struggle think while you thrashed in pleasure made his cock strain harder.

He traced the shape of your pussy with his tongue, poking the tip of his tongue and swirling it around your entrance. Your cunt clenched on the tip of his tongue. You tasted so good that he couldn't help but reach down to stroke his cock a few times.

"I..I don't know, Aventurine," You shakily said, tugging on his hair, "Please, just let me cum," You are on the verge of tears you were so desperate.

Aventurine chuckled softly. "Aww, logic is giving way to the need to cum. How cute," He circled your clit with his tongue again, tearing lewd moans from your throat, "You know the rules, sweetheart. Answer correctly, and you can cum," That keened a frustrated cry from you.

"L-Liar!" You cried out, making Aventurine's eyes glisten with amusement. You knew it was a big fat lie. You'd answered his first three questions correctly and still he denied you. All. Three. Times.

"Hmm? Use your words, sweetheart. Use your words and you can cum," He pressed delicate kisses on your sensitive clit, blowing on it teasingly.

You racked your brain, thinking. He'd told you the answer earlier when you'd discussed the rules. Only his hand had been creeping up your thigh, his knuckle grazing your clit outside of your panties.

How was anyone supposed to think or even comprehend anything in that situation?!

You tugged on Aventurine's hair again in an attempt to ground yourself. The need to feel his tongue fucking relentlessly into you was consuming you. "It pays..it pays," You were cut off when he decided to up the ante, plunging two fingers fingers inside of you.

He teasingly scissored your walls apart, stopping just short of hooking his fingers into your sweet spot. You let out a frustrated sob feeling his fingers ghost ever so slightly on your spongy spot. "Seventeen to one," You never hoped you were right so much in your life.

Aventurine smirked up at you, picking up the pace of his fingers as he lapped at your clit. "Correct, my good girl. Now for a harder one," He denied you yet again, slowing down the pace of his fingers. Fuck, you look so precious, needy and desperate for him to make you cum.

He knew he should ease up a little, knowing you couldn't take much more. Too bad he wasn't going to. You looked so pretty crumbling to pieces for him. Your eyes widened hearing he was going to hit you with a harder question. You couldn't even hold your breath, every time you did he prodded his tongue in a way that made you see stars and louder moans tear from your throat.

"Recite some of the Fibonacci sequence," This was a particularly cruel question for you, and he knew that. You have issues remembering anything numerical. This question was way beyond your scope. Back went his mouth to latch onto your clit, coiling the knot of your orgasm tighter.

Your hips bucked up into his fingers and tongue. "I don't know, okay. I don't know," You whimpered, writhing as your walls sensitive walls clamped tightly around his fingers, "I do anything, Aventurine, please. Just make me cum," If all logic hadn't been thrown out the window before, it was straight up chucked out now.

You were dizzy, aching from overstimulation, tears watering your eyes. Aventurine groaned seeing tears fall from your eyes. His cock nearly ribboned cum into his pants. Someone like you was crying in desperate need for someone like him. Someone who the world deemed at the very bottom of the barrel before he'd even grown up.

"Hmm? Anything?" He hooked his fingers into your sweet, making you twitch in bliss. "The gambler decides the odds," He taunted nonchalantly, "and I'm afraid, the odds are not in your favor," He laughed a little as you shook as you needily rubbed your pussy on his mouth, squirming and writhing as you moaned shamelessly.

[lovelivision]

oh god please i need ANYTHING sub toji 😞😞 going crazy

₊⁺ જ⁀➴💌 i did ittttt ! i don't know if he's nearly subby enough but i have a hard time picturing him like this 🙂‍↕️ writing this has made me realise i need to think about sub toji more often thank you for your request and i hope you like it ! 💗

꒰꒰mdni // masterlist꒱꒱

Toji fighting back his whines, embarrassed by the sounds you’re managing to pull from him. Eyes fluttering as he’s consumed by how you fuck yourself up and down his cock, hands pressed flat to his chest to help your movements.

He’s not allowed to touch you, he’s meant to lie here and let you use him, like he promised he would. He knows this and yet can’t resist the urge to grab at your hips anyways, wanting to touch you, to help you fuck yourself on him.

You aren’t having it though, pulling up completely and letting his cock slip from you, slapping back onto his abs. The groan he lets loose is needy and desperate, you raise an eyebrow at him, clicking your tongue in disapproval.

“Come on, Toji, you knew the rules,” your hands rest over the top of his still resting on your hips.

“You really planning on depriving me?” His words are shaky, eyes focused on the apex of your thighs, dick twitching at the sight of your gooey cunt.

“Yep,” reply chirpy, you absolutely do plan on depriving him, you can tell he wants it bad and that only strengthens your resolve. “Need to move your hands,” you warn.

“And if I don’t?” He challenges.

Scrutinising him with a glare, you decide to torture him, sitting on his cock without letting him enter you. Rocking back and forth on the underside of his cock, pussy drooling all over his dick, clit catching on the tip of it making you shudder and increase the pace.

A small whine slipping from him at how unexpected it was, hands digging into your hips, “Hah– wait– just– oh fuuckk.”

He moans when his cock almost slips back inside you, letting him penetrate just slightly before rocking back and gliding your cunt all over the length of him. Smiling smugly to yourself over how tight his grasp is on you, how his eyes fight the urge to roll, all glassy and lidded as he watches your movements.

His beg comes quietly through clenched teeth, “Please– fuck–”

“Hmm? What was that?” You taunt, wanting him to speak up, to say with his whole chest how badly he wants you to fuck him.

Glaring at you as he says again, “Please.”

“I don’t know what you’re asking for, baby,” you stop your hips, only sitting on him, “You want me to stop?”

His lip pulls up slightly in a snarl, “No! I…”

“Then what?” You tilt your head at him, playing into your confusion, being oh so patient.

“Fuck. Me,” voice breaking into a slight whine, hips jerking up, rocking his cock against your pussy needily, “I need it, please.”

Taking a moment to think before answering, “Maybe you should’ve listened to me then,” faux pity painted across your features as you go to pull back, only stopped by the desperate pull of his hands dragging you back down to him.

“No, no no noo,” he successfully kept you from getting off him, his hips now completely still under you, “I won’t touch you, I’ll listen, just– fuck– don’t stop.”

A smile grows on your face at how his hands leave you, flat on the mattress to show he won’t touch you anymore, “Maybe next time I’ll just save us both some time and tie you up.”

He frowns at your words, but you don’t miss the way his cock twitches under you, something you will definitely remember for the next time he’s feeling so pliant.