#i probably spoke about this already but god i love trashing this old man

[claymton]

I've read some of your posts (I love your art by the way) and as a Clay simp I have to say I HATE ARTHUR PUPPINGTON MY GOD, AS MUCH AS CLAY HAD BEEN A SPOILED BRAT YOU CAN'T JUST IGNORE A FCKING CHILD AAAAAcbsknx The old man needed to mature instead of seeing a 12-year-old as competition

I get Arthur puppington but this old man should be upset at his wife not at the 12 year old who's been sheltered, spoiled and tricked into believing everyone should kneel down for him his whole life, that kid literally does not know any better

[sxdmoonchxld]

Operation: Pop The Cherry | JJK

Jungkook x Virgin!Reader

Genre: Smut

Warnings: rough bathroom sex, college au, unprotected sex, teasing, fingering, Jungkook has a virgin kink if you couldn’t tell by he title, lowkey sadistic JK, Gay BFF Jimin, mentions of alcohol and weed, brief mention of homophobia. bIG diCK Jungkook, more belly bulging, and I forgot what else

Word Count: 6.1k

Summary: Against you better judgement and thank to your best friend Jimin. You somehow agreed to let a stranger on campus known as the Cherry Popper, too well..pop your cherry.

Alternatively: You're a virgin. Jungkook has a fetish/kink for fucking virgins.

A/N: I guess i’ll keep putting this note until i stop reposting my old stories. I use to be lizardsocial, and this fic was previously called Game. You may still be able to find it somewhere on tumblr. I edited this fic heavily and it’s honestly a new story, but there are still some elements from the fic it used to be still in there. Unedited so please let me know of any mistakes or typos. Like, comment, reblog, let me know what you think. Enjoy!

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Bass boosted pop music seeped through the dense walls of the energetic room. Strobing bright colored beams danced to the rhythm of the music in mesmerizing synchrony. The musty odor of marijuana, booze, and sex-saturated air shrouded the room in a turbid veil, covering the sea of drunken undulating bodies packed in the cramped living room.  Empty beer cans and other various booze bottles mixed with burnt-out blunts accompanied the young adults. You groaned with irritation and disgust. You didn't want to be here, but to your chagrin, you had a promise to keep.

It wasn't a secret that the college nightlife was unquestionably not your type of 'scene.' You quite frequently elected to willingly engage most of your time in your freshman dorm, wrapped in your weighted burrito blanket. A nightstand stockpiled with all your favorite snacks, lights dimmed low, and lavender incense burning, filling your room with the aroma of relaxation. The perfect setting to binge-watch your favorite show for the umpteenth time, the shifting distorted brightness of your computer screen, projecting the scenes against your face. 

It's kind of funny how you got yourself into this mess in the first place. The one time you decide to take the chance and branch away from the alternate antisocial hermit, your personality had adopted as its own had come back to bite you in the ass. You admit, lately, you've been neglecting your best friend. Your reasonings generally varying from the classic 'oh I was sleep' to deliberately silencing your phone, not wanting to hear the constant shrill ringing of the default ringtone. You loved Jimin, you truly did, but you could only take so much of his eccentric mashup of bubblegum and rainbow sparkles that was his personality. Eventually, guilt began eating away at you piece by piece until you ultimately caved in and invited your friend over for an impromptu movie night in your dorm room. 

Not even 30 minutes into the movie, one that you had been dying to see, might you add, Jimin commenced his drunk and high chattering. He had already started 'pre-gaming' before he came over; Six shots of straight Vodka and 2 blunts. Every day you prayed for this man's liver and brain function; with how much he drank and smoke, you would think he needed it to function. 

"Oh! Oh! Bitttch. Did I tell you about that football player, I fucckked last week!" Jimin started slurring on certain words. You noticed his eyes were glossy and glazed over. 

"No, you didn't, Chim." You sighed, completely giving up trying to watch the movie. You would have to watch it on your alone time. 

"Reeaally?" Jimin slurred, a goofy grin uplifting his lips.

"Yes, really. You haven't told me." Amusement lightly coated your voice. 

"Welll, his name is T-tae, Tae-tae something. Hold on, it's coming to me." Jimin said, rubbing the sides of his temples, trying to remember the guys' name. 

"Taehyung! That's it!" Jimin shrieked, snapping his fingers in victory.

You looked at him startled. You remember Taehyung from high school. You didn't recall him being at this college, though. Well, it wasn't like you paid attention to many things outside your bubble anyway.

"Wasn't he homophobic as fuck in high school?" You asked, genuinely interested.

"Yeah, he was. Buttt I guess he was trying to cover up, that he was actually on the DL." Jimin smiled, whispering the last part.

"DL? What's that mean?" You inquired

Jimin looked at you with a look of betrayal. "It means he's on the down-low, meaning he didn't want anyone to know he's gay. Girrl, I'm too crossfaded to be explaining this to you."

You chuckled, " My bad, Chim. So was it good?"

"Fuck, no! Dick was straight trash. The only thing that saved him a little was that his dick was huge." Jimin said, wiping away a pretend tear from the corner of his eye. 

You laughed boisterously at that. If Jimin wasn't so adamant about becoming a professional dancer. He could seriously take up a career in comedy.

"Speaking of dick. When are you gonna get some?" Jimin asked, turning his body to face you completely. As you looked at him, you noticed his eyes seemed a bit clearer, and his face wasn't as red as earlier. Not only did Jimin drink like a fish and smoke like a chimney. He was somehow able to sober just as fast.

"Oh my god, Jimin. Please don't sta-"

"Mmm, no missy," Jimin said, wagging his finger in your face.

"Don't you hear it?" He said, cupping his hand around his ear as if he was straining to hear something.

"Hear what?" You replied, rolling your eyes and crossing your arms against your chest.

"The cobwebs and tumbleweed living in your cunt."

"Jimin!" You shrieked, slapping the arm closest to you.

"Don't Jimin me! You know it's true, I swear you're gonna be a 40-year-old virgin, and by the time you finally make the decision to have sex, it'll be too late!" Jimin yelled, stumbling to stand up from the couch.

"First off, ouch. I won't be a 40-year-old virgin. That's very insulting. Second, I do plan to lose it soon. I just haven't found the time or the right guy." You said, looking down at your feet shyly. You did want to lose your virginity, but with being an introvert with a mix of social anxiety and just a dash of seasonal depression for added flavor. It was hard even to get out of bed sometimes. Much less going out and trying to find someone to do the do with.

"Oh! Well, if that's all, then I got you covered, babe. Time? Next week Friday at Jihyo's dorm. As for the right guy, I know a dude. He has like a kink for that kind of thing." Jimin answered nonchalantly, now scrolling through his phone, probably on his social media page.

You looked at Jimin, head tilted to the side, confused. "What kind of thing?"

"Oh, you know fucking virgins and shit. Popping their cherries." He said, popping his "P's."

You sputtered, exasperated. What the fuck. You didn't kink shame, that was for losers, but he can't seriously expect you to do something like that.

"What the actual fuck. Jimin, are you serious?"  

"Deadly." He said, looking you square in your eyes. His tone of voice haven dropped an octave lower.

"Jimin no. I-i can't."

"Jimin, yes! Err, I mean _____ yes, you can! Come on, it's a once in a lifetime experience. Plus, it's not like he's a total stranger. I've known him since he was 8 years old. I use to babysit the little shit head." Jimin said, waving his hand in the air, trying to swat away a rogue fly.

"Wow, Chim. You know, now that you put it like it makes me feel a lot better about the situation." You said tone dripped in sarcasm

"Really?" Jimin squealed, a delighted twinkling in his eye.

"Of course not! Don't be stupid!" Offended, you gawked at Jimin. You swear sometimes he could be so dimwitted.

"Come on, please? At least meet him, and if the vibe is not right, then you can leave no harm done." Jimin pleaded, his attention back on you. Was it crazy that you were actually thinking about agreeing to this? Jimin did have a point. It was sort of a once in a lifetime opportunity. He did know the guy, and if you didn't like the vibe, then you could just bounce, right? Right?

Sighing in defeat, your hands dragged down your face and turned towards a pouting Jimin. Grabbing at his deflated shoulders, you shook her lightly, and with urgency in your voice, you spoke, "Alright goddammit! I'll do it, but you have to stay by my side the whole time, no running off, you understand!" 

You watched Jimin's face quirk into a sly smirk. You swore you could see the cogs in his brain churning. Damn, you were going to regret this. You had the tendency to make deals when pressured. Most of the time, those agreements ended up backfiring on you, confining you in the proverbial rock and a hard place. 

"Yay! Operation: Pop _____ Cherry has commenced. Okay, so will meet at the auditorium on the art campus. From there we will walk to Jihyo's dorm, it's only five minutes. Promise me you'll actually show up and won't flake on me." A complacent expression rested arrogantly on Jimin's features, a single pinky finger extended towards you. 

"Don't give this situation a not-so-secret code name. And I can't believe I'm saying this but, I promise." You agreed, interlocking pinky fingers, yours thumbs coming up to press against one another.

"So I'll meet you at the location Friday, don't be late, and wear something sexy. No granny clothes." he chirped, making his way to your front door.

"Wait! You're leaving already?" you frowned, looking at the clock on your wall. He's only been here for an hour, and 30 mins of it were spent persuading you to hurry up and lose your virginity. You didn't even get to finish the movie together.

"Sorry babe, but I have a dick appointment." he shrugged, putting his arms through the sleeves of his jacket.

"Can you at least tell me the name of the guy who's supposed to fuck me?" you huffed, honestly you were done for tonight. As soon as Jimin left, you were heading straight for bed.

"Oh yeah, how could I forget." Jimin slaps the center of his forehead. "He's a real cutie. I would fuck him if he wasn't as straight as an arrow." Jimin looks off to a far wall, eyeing it with jealousy.

"Just tell me his name, please." You pleaded. Oh yeah, that's definitely a headache forming. You could feel it already. Jimin snaps out of his daydreaming and spins his body towards you.

"Jungkook."

Time skip to a week later, and precisely as you suspected, what a mistake that whole conversation was. Now here you were at this fucking dorm party with people you didn't know or care to get to know. Jimin had left you as soon as he saw his next piece of ass. Restlessly you hauled down the short black dress that insisted on riding up your ass, the soles of your feet protesting in the slim heeled shoes. Floundering your way into the packed building, you couldn't help but query where Jungkook was. Jimin was supposed to get around to send you a picture of the mystery man, but that never happened. Funny how now was the best time you decided to question why exactly Jimin was your best friend.

"Well damn, the pictures Jimin sent me doesn't do you justice at all. You're fucking hot." You recoiled from the closeness of the voice, the heated breath sending chills skittering down your spine, and the hairs on the back of your neck ramrod straight. Heat spurred to your face when you whisked around to meet an absolutely gorgeous guy. Like unfairly gorgeous guy. You stared wide-eyed, taking in his chiseled facial features, paired with wide doe eyes and bunny smile decorating his face. Somehow, someway he's mastered looked soft and sexy at the same damn time. And fuck was that a dangerous combination for your pussy. Your heart too, but more so your cunt.

"U-uh, thanks? Who are you exactly?" You watch as he recoils back from your with a look of apprehension on his face.

"A-are you not ____?" he stutters cutely. You think you can see the beginnings of a blush burning his cheeks. You nod your head once to confirm his question. He stared at you a minute longer before you see the recognition spark in his chocolate orbs.

"Jimin didn't send you my picture did he?" Shaking his head with his eyes close, you get the courage the scan his face a bit more. Yeah. He's definitely blushing.

"Sorry. I guess seeing you here, I thought Jimin would have...prepared you better." Shaking your head from side to side because your words refused to come out. You watched as he backed up a bit further from your personal space and thrust his right hand out to you. 

"The name's Jungkook, or J.K. Whatever suits your taste."

With clammy hands, you taking his outstretched hand marveled at how it almost covers your hand. Now that he's moved back from you, you now had to chance to see how tall he really was. Maybe about 6 to 7 inches taller. You look down at his feet and eye his combat boot, perhaps a little shorter but still taller. And big, yeah, definitely bigger. His oversized black jacket did little to hide the broadness of his shoulders and chest. You let your eyes travel down the length of his body. You bet he's hiding some killer abs under his shirt. And holy fuck, his thighs.

"You like what you see, baby girl?" Teasing, he's teasing but God, if his voice didn't make you pussy throbbing pathetically. Whimpering slightly, you let out a meek "Yes." God, you hope he didn't hear that.

Much to your dismay, he did, hear you. How he heard you with the music as loud as it was, was a mystery to you. But you watched his pupils dilate, and his nostrils flare slightly. Jungkook tucks his bottom lip between his teeth as his eyes rake up and down your scantily clad body. His heated stare scrutinized across your body, intrigue exerting over him, as he analyzed the way the snug-fitting dress molded to the curves of your shape. He could tell you didn't do this often. His dick twitched in his jeans with enthusiasm. 

It's the increase in pressure of your hand that makes you realize you're still holding his hand. You go to retract your hand from his. However, yelp shrilly as he tugs you closer to his body. Both hands now resting on his chest, and his wrapped around your waist. Fuck, you could feel the warmth and coarseness of his hands through your thin dress. A spontaneous tremor racked your body. The heat-transmitting from his frame mixed with the floral yet musky undertone of his cologne made you somewhat featherbrained.

"Fuck, you're so soft." You squeak as he squeezes your waistline, pulling you even closer against his body. You were now putty in his hands.

"Jimin told you my....preferences, right?" his voice caressed your ear. Just a slight movement or subtle twitch, and his lips would be on your skin.

"Y-yeah, he did." It should be an embarrassment how frail and breathless you sounded, but that didn't matter.

Jungkook hid his smile behind your ear. This was just too easy. Just how he liked it. He almost felt bad- almost. He was gonna ruin you utterly and completely, mold the shape of cock in the walls of your pussy. His name spilling from your lips, voice going hoarse by how loud he would make you scream. Fuck he couldn't wait. He's had virgin's before, a lot of them. That's his whole M.O. The cherry popper, virgin fucker, whatever. Jungkook's heard all the names in the book. But there's just something about you, you just had an air of genuine innocence, and he couldn't wait to defile it. 

Jungkook pulls his head back, enough to where his eyes can trail over the bared skin of your neck, and the sprinkling of perspiration sparkling off the bright strobing lights, no doubt from nervousness. His tongue traced over his thin upper lip, watching the droplets of sweat spiral down the curve of your neck. He wanted to taste you. 

"Alright, then." He jerks his body away from you. You're no longer touching his chest, but his hands are still on your waist. 

"Let's enjoy the party before the fun really begins. Every done body shots before?" Jungkook spoke casually, undeterred by the way you recoiled back or the look of stupor on your face.

"W-what? B-body shots, why?" you squeaked, failing to keep from stuttering over your words. Is this how it's supposed to go? Is this normal? You're bewildered, and just a bit perturbed. Were you just imagining that sexual tension that was going on just moments ago? For sure, you thought Jungkook was gonna throw you over his shoulders and haul you off to the nearest unoccupied bedroom or bathroom. At that instant, you didn't care. 

Jungkook regarded the war of emotions wage across your features, merriment and strobing lights twinkling in his eyes. Fuck, you were cute, so desperate staring up at him with a pout on your face a puppy dog eyes. He could honestly just take you back to the closest room and fuck the shit out of you. But he wanted to play with his prey, a bit more. The wait made it that much more satisfying.

"Don't pout too much, baby girl or I may not be able to contain myself. Follow me. The table is this way."

Jungkook didn't indulge in answering any of your questions you rambled off at him, delighted to see you trailing on his heels like a lost pup. Jungkook directed you further into the dorm, and like a dog on a leash, you followed. In the center of a sparse room sat a scraped up black table. You observed the area. It was devoid of many people. The several that were present made no recognition of your proximity in their intoxicated state.

"So who's first?" Jungkook asked, setting the bottle of tequila, rim salt, and limes down on the table.

"U-uh, I don't know. I guess it doesn't matter." You shrugged hesitantly. You were way out of your element here.

"Perfect then, you first." Jungkook should be ashamed by how excited he was at getting to sample your skin. It looked smooth, felt soft when he had you in his arms, and would no doubt probably taste as sweet as it seemed. You nodded in docility, wandering over to crawl on top of the table, being attentive to your dress. You lay flattened against the table, shiverings racking your body as he began pouring a trail of salt between your cleavage. 

He poured himself a shot in the depression of your throat and tore the lime in half with his bare hands. Smirking at how you flinched when he thumped the liquor bottle down beside your head. Jungkook pushed the other half of the unevenly split lime towards your lips, a silent gesture to take the lime in your mouth. Jungkook watched as your lips curled gently around the hull of the green citrus. A flare of lust stirred in his loins at the action. He couldn't wait to see your lips stretched around the head of his cock. He observed your eyes clamped closed as he began dropping his head forward to your chest. It was adorable and innocent. He noted the way your lips slackened around the citrus in your mouth, your chest heaving in speed, the closer his tongue trailed to your neck.

You tasted splendid, just as sweet as he thought. The salt on your skin did nothing to deter your natural flavor. If anything, it enhanced your sweetness, rendering your skin damn near mouth-watering. Jungkook's ears perked at the breathless moans slipping past the fruit perched against your lips, drawn out by the repeated pass of the wet, pink appendage lapping at the salt line between the valley of your breast. Committing your muffled moans to memory, he lapped persistently at the collection of salt and tequila in the hollow at the base of your neck.

You face flammed in embarrassment as panting moans effortlessly tumbled from your mouth. Who knew your chest and neck was such an erogenous spot. Despite your shame, you couldn't stop wriggling, shifting your thighs together for some form of friction to sate the rising arousal dampening your panties. You yelped at the sensation of blunt teeth nibbling at your skin before soft lips came to suck at the shallow indentations. Fluffy hair with an undercut came into your line of vision as Jungkook lifted his head up to your lips. Your heart stammered tortuously against your ribs, flirtatious eyes stared lidded with searing lust, his head advanced closer to your lips. Your eyes fluttered closed, lips puckering against the bitter hull of the lime.

Jungkook closed the distance, slanting his mouth over the lime, blocking his contact with yours. He sucked against the sour fruit, acidity puckering his lips, residual tartness flowing to your cracked lips. Jungkook withdrew from your mouth, taking the drained lime hull with it. Your saccharine moans were heaven to his ears. It had awoken something inside him, fueled his fire in knowing that possibly no one had ever heard such a sweet sound. He wanted more, craved more. 

"Have you ever been kissed before, sweetheart?" Your eyes followed the movement of his tongue, poking out to moistening his lips. 

"Yeah, once in like 3rd grade." Who hasn't snuck behind a tree or hid underneath the dark coverings of playground equipment to lock lips with a childhood crush?

He grinned salaciously, body moving to rest between your spread legs. Oh, now he was really excited. Your lips were practically untouched. Just another part of your body to claim first. You jumped when palms pressed flat against the revealed skin of your thigh. Gently, Jungkook rubbed lazy circles on your skin, never lowering or furthering than the hem of your dress. He felt you wiggle beneath his hands, observed your eyes, glimpsing―darting about, should you concentrate on his face, or his hand, uncertainty was etched on your face.

"Amazing." He groaned, eyelashes fluttering against his cheeks, before grinning again. His face inched closer to yours, his lips but a breath apart, warmth flickered against your lips as he talked, level and smooth. " Well, how about I become your second?

And then his lips were on you, the soft muscle mangled itself to your lips, tentative and sluggish to give you a chance to register his mouth slanted upon yours. Jungkook chuckled against your lips at your unresponsiveness. He guesses you were a little shell shocked. It only takes a few more stagnant seconds before you're shyly reciprocating his kiss. Delicate, shaky movements highlighted your inexperience. Increasingly, Jungkook increased the pressure behind lips, his hands spreading to enclose around your waist, dragging you closer against him. One of Jungkook's hands removed from your waist to bury itself in your hair, gently his fingernails scratched against your scalp, an airy moan was his reward. 

Hands completely abandoning your midsection, one gripped the meat of your thigh, pulling you to the edge of the table, flush against the tent of his denim jean encased manhood, the other embedded in your strands pulled sharply on your roots, a loud gasp tearing from you. Jungkook took that opportunity to advance his tongue into your gaped mouth. His tongue wrapped itself around yours, briefly wrestling for dominance before easily pinning your tongue in submission. His hips ground against yours, the heat of your covered core teased him through his jeans. 

He thoroughly explored your mouth, swallowing the now copious cries leaving your mouth. Reluctantly, Jungkook tore himself from your kiss-swollen lips. The ravished looked suited you perfectly. You looked beautiful, thighs brazenly spread, eyes glazed over in lust, your sticky chest heaving from the length of the shared kiss. Even in the dim lights, he could make out the taunt pebbling of your nipples. 

Your mouth gaped wide, flapping about like a fish out of water, trying despairingly to draw air into your lungs. Your first kiss definitely didn't compare to this much. Your wide eyes flicked between Jungkook and the floor, your bottom lip tucked firmly between your teeth, feeling shy as he just stares at you. Releasing your teeth from your lips, you timidly touched your mouth, admiring how plump they've gotten from the intense liplock.

Wordlessly Jungkook hitched you over his shoulder, winded with a grunt as his defined shoulder blades dug into your stomach and what sounded like a growled vibrate up into you. You squirmed lightly in his hold, scared he was going to drop you, and secondly, your panty-clad ass on display for the party-goers, not that anyone was looking. 

You watched the continuous panels of hardwood floor move beneath you as Jungkook carried you to an unknown destination. You couldn't believe you were really doing this. Were you actually going to have sex with a complete stranger? Someone who was known for explicitly fucking virgins. Realistically, you should be ashamed, yet, you conceded full control to him without a second thought. What did that say about you? About your character? Would you now be labeled as 'easy' or a 'hoe' after all this was done? What was going to happen between you and Jungkook? 

The flick of a switch stirred from your thoughts. You shield your eyes with your hand at the bright lights pouring into the room, or rather a bathroom. Jungkook loved the confusion marring your features. He wouldn't fuck you in his bedroom just yet. That was a privilege you would have to earn, no matter how intrigued he had become with you. There's always humiliation to be had in the corruption of innocence, and fucking you in the bathroom was a good start. He planned on making you watch him as he destroyed your body, popping your cherry, stretching your tight virginal hole to accommodate his length, and claimed it as his own. Jungkook shuddered at the thought, his possessive nature taking a turn for the worst. 

Impatiently Jungkook sat you on top of the bathroom sink counter, his lips smashed against yours, the previous tenderness was gone, vanished into a puff of smoke. Teeth banged, and tongues flailed recklessly against each other in the heat of passion, with you struggling to keep up with the demands of his dominating kiss. Thick fingers trailed beneath the hem of your dress, tickling the expanse of your thighs. Jungkook wasted no time in shifting your slick soaked panties to the side, a warm digit gliding effortlessly through your damn folds.

"Fuck, you're already so wet. You're enjoying this a little too much, baby girl." Jungkook growled, panting against your lips. His finger breached your sex, you tensed deftly around the foreigner intrusion, stretching your weeping walls. 

"Ah, Jungkook." You cried listlessly, rocking your hips against his stilled finger. He felt so good inside you, and it was just his finger. Maybe this experience wouldn't be as bad as you heard. Now you couldn't wait to see what his cock felt like embedded deep within your pussy. Jungkook pumped slowly, eventually introducing a second finger to help loosen you up more. You were gonna be a tight fit, very tight, but that just made it even better. You hissed at the slight burn as he began scissoring his fingers apart with each withdrawal. Your hands wrapped around his neck as you buried your head against his broad chest, your mellifluous moans suppressed by the fabric of his shirt. 

"G-go faster, please." You begged, your body adjusting and quickly becoming frustrated by the snail's pace his fingers were pumping. You bucked your hips against his hands, hoping he would ease the growing discomfort boiling in your stomach. 

"Have you ever had an orgasm before, babe?" You nodded eagerly at his question, whining as you bucked against his hand again.

"Oh, really? Who gave it to you." Slow, he was going too slow you wanted, no you needed more friction, more stimulation from him.

"M-me. I-i did." Jungkook loved how you stuttered, it stroked his ego and filled him with arrogance to know it was him, and only that was capable of making you stumble over your words.

"Mmm, and how did you do it? Did you rub this little clit of yours raw?" You cried louder when his thumb flicked at your clit, the stimulation further drawing the appendage from its hood.

"Or did you fuck this tight hole, with these tiny fingers of yours?" At those words, a loud, choked moan, even muffled by your face in his chest, echoed throughout the white bathroom. Jungkook had gone deeper inside, almost to the third knuckle. Another moan left your lips as he twisted his fingers inside you, his palm now facing upwards.

"Though you and I bought know they couldn't possibly reach deep enough to touch the spot you really want." It's euphoric, no better yet orgasmic, the sheer shock of electric pleasure that zaps through your body when he finds the spongy bundle of nerves. Your body jerked heavily, legs go to snap close, only to be stopped by his broad body between your thighs.

He chuckles softly, stroking your thigh with his other hand. Jungkook shifts his head down, bringing his mouth closer to your ear. He exhales quietly, warm air tinged with tequila and lime caresses the light hairs on you around your ear. " I found it, huh?"

You whimper, rubbing your head up and down against his chest.

"You want me to speed up the pace, sweetheart?" Jungkook's voice is delicate now, so gentle. But you're confused, overwhelmed, and scared. It's never felt like this when you did it yourself. Your not sure if you could handle the feeling, so you don't provide an answer to Jungkook's question.

"Don't ignore me ____, that's not nice manners. I'll ask again." You clench around his fingers as Jungkook inches just a bit deeper. 

"Do you. Want me. To go faster?" With each pause, he arches his fingers in a 'come here' motion, pressing deeply against your bundle of nerves, the sensation of having to pee accompanied with each thrust.

 "Y-yes, faster, more. Pl-lease." Fuck, you sounded so pretty begging for him if he wasn't addicted before. You had him sprung now. Jungkook buried his face in the crook of your neck, the sharp smell of tequila and salt still lingering on your skin. He sucked at the junction where your shoulder and neck met. You bucked harder against his fingers, your juices now dripping to coat his palm is sticky cream.

"If you wanted more. Why didn't you just ask?" Jungkook said deviously. Confused, you felt withdraw his sticky digits, walls gripping to stop their departure. Without warning, Jungkook flipped you over onto the counter, your knees buckled at the sudden change in position. Your faced burning at your displayed state, droplets of your essence dribbled from your pussy, slicking up your inner thighs. You yelped as Jungkook grasped at the length of your hair, pulling back pointedly, your neck craned back to observe him addressing you in the mirror.

"You've been wondrous for me ____. Such a sweet girl." He expressed, his empty hand disappearing behind your perked ass to fiddle with the groin of his pants. 

"Truly, you have. Your response and reactions to my touch have really gotten me riled up. It's been a while since I've tittered on the edge of losing control." You wheezed, starting to panic as you felt the thick head of his cock slap teasingly against your slicked throbbing hole. Oh, God, he's huge. Jungkook's cock might just tear you apart. You shifted your hips forward, pressing against the cold marble of the bathroom counters door.

"I-i don't think, I can t-take it Jungkook, you're too b-big. It's my first-time, r-remember?” Your stuttering worse now, but you're scared.

Jungkook pulls your hips back with the hand the was grasping his length, the side of your hip now coated in his pre-cum. His hand lays flat in the crease of your back, forcing you into a perfect arch. 

"You can take it, all of it. And don't worry, of course, I remembered your fragility. I'll go slow, I promise." You plead silently with your eye contact through the mirror. 

"You ready?" You nod once an advert your eyes down to the sink.

Your mouth shakily falls agape as he slowly began pushing the head of his cock into you. It burns, but not as bad as you had anticipated. You take the chance to look back up into the mirror, adamant about giving Jungkook a thankful smile for his gentleness. That vision that greets looks like it jumped right off the page of your favorite erotic story. 

Jungkook's got his head thrown back, the edge of his t-shirt clenched tightly between his teeth, your eyes trail the drip of sweat that follows the curve of his jawline. You have a clear view of his abs all the way down to the v-cut of his hip, to the happy trail that leads to a neatly trimmed bush of pubic hair. You clench tightly around him, efficiently aroused by the view. You feel his cock throbbed heavily inside you, even getting bigger if possible.

"You like that, sweet girl? You like seeing me struggling to contain myself because you're so tightly around me. This little pussy trying to milk me for all I can give you." You love it. You feel powerful in a way. Do you really feel that good around him?

"Yes." Jungkook draws out the 'S.' 

"You feel amazing, so warm and wet. I wished you could see how coated in white you've got me, and I'm not even all the way in yet."

You scream soundless as he bucks into you, shoving in half of his length. It doesn't hurt anymore. You just feel stuffed full. Lifting a trembling hand, you take the chance a feel the lower part. You noticed swelling that wasn't there before, intrigued; you push down against it, moaning in shock you realize it's Jungkook's cock. 

"Yeah, baby girl, that's all me, well, most of me. You ready to take the rest?"

"Yes! Please!" That's the clearest you've been all night. You don't get an answer as Jungkook immediately picks up his pacing, thrusting into you faster. He wastes no time pumping deeply into your tight pussy, his tip smashing against the entrance to your cervix as you pant and grit your teeth in slight discomfort, overshadowed by pleasure. The burning sensation is back as he fucks in deeper with each brutal and swift stroke. But you don't care cause it still feels amazing. You can hear yourself, sloppy and soaking wet, echoing throughout the bathroom. You're drooling down his pistoning cock. You can feel it dripping down your inner thighs. Your head jerks violently against your shoulders, to weak support your head from his menacing thrust. 

Tightened vocal cords released strained shrieks of praise; from your mouth, drool dripping from your lips, into the sticky cleavage of your breast, and sweat coated your skin. The coil in your stomach was quickly tightening, never had you felt anything so deep inside you. If you ever had sex with anyone else, they would never compare to Jungkook.  You were fucked both figuratively and literally.

Jungkook pulled you further from off the sink, the new position allowing him even deeper. You clawed at the marble tops underneath your fingers, your eyes rolling in the back of your head. That sensation of having to pee is back again.

"J-K, I-m. I have to-," You don't get to finish as the band in your stomach snapped. Silently you announced your release; if it wasn't for the new wave of cum coating his cock, or the fluttering tightness of your walls, Jungkook might have missed your orgasm. He wasn't far behind you. The constant clenching of your ridged walls around his cock, had him reaching his limit sooner than he would like. Jungkook had half a mind to pull out but decided to gamble his odds. You're the first person he's fucked raw in a while, and with three deep thrusts later, he was shooting his hot seed right against your cervix. 

Breathing heavily, Jungkook lets you fall against the sink, observing as you crumpled against the sink countertop. Pride swelled his chest as he watched his seed bubble out of your well-used hole. He's never contemplated going farther with the virgins he fucked. He wouldn't make any hasty decisions now though there were still a lot of things he wanted to do with you. He would sleep on it and revisit the idea in the morning.

"So would you say, Operation: Pop Your Cherry was a success?"

You giggled, winded, still having difficulty catching your breath. You straighten up against the bathroom counter, the majority of your weight still resting on the object as you had yet to regain the feeling in your legs.

"Jimin and his stupid code names. I swear when I get a hold ass, he's dead." You warned already preparing your revenge on your best friend. You stare at Jungkook in the eyes through the mirror, smile a bit goofy, you say.

"Operation: Pop My Cherry. Mission complete."

[river-bottom-nightmare]

bruce wayne week day 2: gala rated T, no archive warnings apply, tagged: past bruce wayne/harvey dent, implied/referenced violence, brief suicide mention

how was it, bruce thought to himself, that he could withstand torture both physcial and mental without any lasting damage, but the one thing that had him trembling and ready to crawl out of his own skin was an itchy suit?

he’d grown out of them, was the thing. when he was young, alfred had ensured that he’d always dressed properly for any occasion, be that a wedding or charity event or board meeting. before that, his parents—well. they had made sure bruce was presentable enough for their friends to pinch bruce's cheeks instead of awkwardly patting his shoulder.

but now, newly returned to gotham with a thousand new scars and a hardened grip, bruce realized he had lost his tolerance for finely pressed and ironed fabric. none of his old suits had come remotely close to fitting him, and alfred had manhandled him in front of a mirror to take measurements, sending them off to his favourite tailor. bruce thought he'd cried out all the tears his body had left to give the day he came home, hugging alfred's frail body far too tight, but his eyes still managed to get all hot and uncomfortable when alfred's fingers hesitantly mapped the broad expanse of his shoulders, trying so hard to ignore the slashes, the stabs, the burn marks, the brands.

his shoes were too loose, the pointed style apparently a new trend in the gotham elite. bruce and alfred had worked on a pair of dress shoes together, ones that wouldn't fall off the minute bruce moved at anything more intense than a brisk walk, but bruce still longed for the comfort of his thick-soled boots.

those same shoes were tapping on the ground, making far too much noise, but bruce forced himself to take a breath and let the flower-scented artificial spray calm him down. logically, it made no sense at all, but bruce had always placed gotham on pause in his mind. he'd expected to come back older and harder and fiercer to find gotham exactly the same, waiting patiently just for him.

instead, bella revero had cut her hair and dyed it blonde, and was wearing a long, flowing, glittering pantsuit instead of a long, flowing, glittering gown. tom thompson's hair was a healthy salt and pepper when bruce left, but now the man was two tufts away from being completely bald. thicky-applied makeup somehow accentuated wrinkles instead of hiding them, no manner of well-cut suits could hide a growing potbelly, none of the waiters that had given bruce snacks and orange juice were working anymore, and most everyone bruce remembered being roughly his age had moved far, far away from this wretched hole of a city.

there were times when bruce slapped himself upside the head for the absolutely moronic decision to come back to gotham and announce ta-daaa! not dead! he should have just been batman and let bruce wayne's useless name and dishonored legacy be swallowed up by gotham.

footsteps behind him. bruce had tuned out most of his training, knowing that it would only hinder him as brucie wayne, only make him look suspicious. but he'd kept a basic background awareness, unable to turn that off, and these thuds were heading right for him. bruce tensed, his false smile probably turning brittle, two seconds away from whirling around and grabbing his attacker's arm so hard, the bone would shatter.

a heavy hand slammed down onto his shoulder, but right before bruce made a move, a voice spoke right next to his ear, smooth and low and capable of making his entire body relax without any input from him whatsoever.

"what the actual hell are you doing here, you motherfucker?"

"harvey," bruce sighed, turning around to give the man a relieved smile. "thank god. i thought i'd have to go through this all by myself. you didn't tell me you were coming?"

harvey's mouth pulled into a painful grin, one that didn't look the least bit friendly, and there was a bulging vein on his temple, a nervous tick that bruce knew he didn't have before.

"you alright there, harv? you're looking a little—," bruce gestured vaguely to harvey's face, "—red."

harvey's grip on bruce's shoulder tightened, fingers digging into muscle and sending painful twinges up bruce's shoulder, and bruce tried not to show his surprise. he was two seconds from shoving off harvey's hand himself, but just decided to grit and bear it. harvey wouldn't ever hurt him.

"you have been gone," harvey said, enunciating every word, "for years. i didn't know where you were. i didn't know if you were ever coming back. then i hear that you're home from a goddamn newspaper, and you just showed up to this party without telling anyone."

"i was on the guest list," bruce pointed out, automatically putting up a simplified version of his brucie wayne facade. he widened his eyes, putting a little cluelessness into the fluttering of his eyelashes, just enough to keep his cover in case anyone was recording him, just enough so harvey believes him.

"what the fuck are you doing with your eyes," harvey said flatly.

so apparently harvey knew him better than he thought.

"look, harv, i was gonna call you, i really was—"

"i thought you were dead," harvey hissed, and his best friends eyes have more lines on them than bruce remembered and he doesn't have to tip his head up just to see harvey laugh anymore and there's too much broken love in harvey's voice for them to be standing in between a gilded trash can and a spiked bowl of punch.

"harvey,,," bruce started, not knowing exactly where to go from there. he'd taught himself to prepare for any possible attack, any possible conspiracy or unmasking or targeted hit, but he'd completely forgot about his own friend. he'd forgotten he had a friend.

luckily or unluckily, harvey interrupted him before he had the chance to fumble his words. "i thought you were dead, i thought my best friend had finally fucking followed through with what i tried so hard for years to stop."

it hit bruce like a punch to the gut. he wasn't aware harvey had ever been trying.

"and now,,, what? you're just fine? you're dressed like a poser and your hair's all neat and trimmed and you're smiling at people like the only thing you care about is getting into their pants. plus, that's the fourth glass you've had tonight."

"we're already an hour in," bruce replied automatically.

"we're only an hour in," harvey said.

there was a pause. not an uncomfortable one, because it had been years since him and harvey were ever uncomfortable with each other. it was like harvey couldn't decide whether or not to reach out and strangle bruce for worrying him or break down for hurting him or hug him for coming back home.

bruce couldn't tell him. harvey worked too closely with commissioner gordon; daring bruce to steal mary jane from the principal's stash and shotgunning it out of his mouth was leagues away from keeping the secret that bruce was a dangerous, trained vigilante from everyone he knew.

"it's okay, harvey," bruce said, his voice completely sincere for the first time this night. "i found other ways to cope."

"i don't like those other ways," harvey sneered, eyes the glass in bruce's hand.

"other ways," bruce said. "you don't have to worry. i'm fine."

the photographer for the gotham gazette had snapped a picture of him entering, and no one would notice if he left now. bruce wayne couldn't be beating up pedophiles in the narrows if bruce wayne was getting drunk at a high-class gala. he'd planned to leave three hours in, a respectable amount of time, but meeting harvey had thrown him off balance.

he brushed past harvey, heading towards the butler's exit in the back of the ballroom. "enjoy the party!" he called behind him as he left, eyes wide again, clueless and fluttering and oh-so blind to the devastated way harvey watched him leave.

tag list: @woahjaybird @birdy-bat-writes @anothertimdrakestan @subtleappreciation @screennamealreadyused @catxsnow @pricetagofficial @bikoncon @maplumebleue-blog-blog @sundownridge @thatsthewhump @xatanna-troy @red-hood-redemption @capricorn-stark @batshit-birds @comics-observer @buticaaba @brucewayneweek

[kpop---scenarios]

Torn Apart

Pairing: Chanyeol x Reader

Warning: Smut, Angst, Heartbreak

Word Count: 3.8k

Summary: Chanyeols bestfriend Maya comes to town, and things don't go quite as planned.

Taglist: @biaswreckingfics @littlebetafefe @skittlez-area512 @ohsehunxv

When Chanyeol asked you to be his girlfriend, four years ago, you didn't think it was possible to be any happier. Your relationship with him was almost perfect. Yes you had your ups and downs with him, like any couple but you felt as though you were stronger than any obstacle that could be thrown at you. 

You thought. 

You had never really been the jealous type, you trusted Chanyeol, even if you didn't trust some of the women he was around but you never voiced it. You always kept it to yourself, unwilling to let jealousy be one of the reasons why the two of you fought. You always believed that if you and your partner had trust that it didn't matter what anyone else did. Chanyeol had women that were friends and you got along with them, you had met all of his friends, of course in the amount of time you were dating. Though, there was one friend that he spoke about often that you had yet to meet. 

M, as Chanyeol referred to him, was his best friend in the entire world who had moved to a different country after college. They kept in touch often, talking on the phone a few times a week to keep up with each other. You were happy for him, you were happy that he had such an amazing relationship with M. And you were happy for a few moments when Chanyeol burst through the door this evening, spewing out nonsense in his excited state. 

"It's happening Y/N!" He exclaims, plopping down on the couch beside you. 

"What?" You ask, your excitement building as you anticipate his answer. 

"M is coming for a visit!" He yells. Your mouth drops before turning into a smile. 

"Oh my god." You laugh. "I can't wait to meet him!" You yell. 

"Him?" Chanyeol chuckles. "Y/N, M stands for Maya. Didn't I tell you that?" He wonders. You search his eyes and he seems absolutely sure he told you that and you are absolutely sure he did not tell you that. 

"Oh." You say, sitting back. "So M is a girl.. Maya." You say. 

"Y/N.." Chanyeol trails off. 

"I can't wait to meet her." You smile. "I'm really happy for you." You finish off. 

And you were. But you couldn't help but feel weary about how much they spoke considering he didn't talk to his other female friends that much. You were open minded and were sure you'd get along with her just as you did any other woman. 

"Go get ready quick, we're going to meet Baekhyun, Jongdae and his wife." Chanye tells you, standing up to walk to your shared room. "I can't wait to tell them. They're going to be so excited." 

** 

"I'm sorry, what?" Baekhyun asks, his face clearly unamused by Chanyeol's news. 

"Maya is coming to town! Woo-hoo." He says, trying to amp everyone up and raise his glass for a cheer, but everyone falls silent. 

"Didn't she move away like 6 years ago?" Jongdae asks, taking a sip of his beer. 

"Yeah, but we've kept in contact." Chanyeol says, placing his glass on the table. 

"But why?" Baekhyun asks, taking a shot, his face displeased by the news more than the liquor. 

"You're just jealous she never fell for your pretty face and 'slick moves'." Chanyeol laughs. 

Baekhyun bursts out laughing as he waves his hand in front of his face. "Not at all." He chuckles. "I never hit on her. I had no interest in her, ever." Baekhyun shudders. 

"I don't know how to tell you this man." Jongdae sighs. "She was into you back then, and I can guarantee she's still into you now." He says. 

Chanyeol is still for a moment before he begins to laugh. "There's no way. She's not into me." He laughs, taking a drink. He looks at you and laughs again. "She's definitely not." He says to you. You weren't sure what he was trying to do, but he wasn't reassuring you in the least. 

** 

A few days later Chanyeol barely kissed you as he rushed out the door to meet Sehun, another friend who happened to also be friends with Maya. The night before Chanyeol had jokingly told you that Sehun had shipped him and Maya together but Chanyeol couldn't see it, he didn't think that he was good enough for her. That honestly hurt you a little bit. 

You stayed in the apartment and waited, and waited and you had heard nothing from Chanyeol in hours. You didn't know what was happening and honestly it made you a little anxious until the door knob to the front door turned and Chanyeol, Sehun and a beautiful black haired girl walked in. 

"That place was trash." Sehun laughed. "Our Maya deserves much better." 

"Sehun." She squeals. "You're too much." She finishes with a giggle. 

"And Channie, oh my god. You're so handsome. I've just missed you." She pouts, throwing her arms around him, hugging him tightly. Chanyeol grins as he hugs her back. Your eye ever so slightly twitches as you stand there watching. 

"Oh, hey Y/N." Sehun says, placing Maya's suitcase down. 

"You're Y/N?" She asks, looking you up and down. "You're so adorable." She giggles as he shuffles her way towards you, pulling you in for an awkward hug. You can feel the tension between the two of you, radiating from her body but you weren't sure what you had done to her to make her dislike you already.

"So Maya." You begin, pulling away from her. "What are you going to do while you're here?" You ask. 

"Oh I have everything planned out." Chanyeol interrupts. "We're going to go to that pizza place we went to in college." He laughs, making her giggle along with him. 

"Can we please go to that Cafe? You know the one where.. " She pauses as Chanyeol interjects. 

"Where I spilled my drink all over myself because I was so nervous? You and Sehun enjoyed that" Chanyeol laughs. 

"You were so cute." She laughs, before looking at you. "He told me I was so beautiful it made his hand shake." She smiles. 

"We could go now?" Sehun pipes up, making everyone excitedly agree. The three of them move towards the doorway, leaving you standing there. 

"Aren't you coming?" Chanyeol asks, turning around to look at you. 

"Oh, yeah, sure." You smile, grabbing your purse. As the four of you walk out the door, you can't help but feel unwanted by at least two of the people there. 

** 

Over the next few days, the invites you received became less and less. Chanyeol and Maya had decided to go to a pizza parlor that they frequented in college, and you were the afterthought after they had already made plans to go. Even when Chanyeol invited you, you could feel that Maya didn't want you there but you tried to ignore it and went along with them anyway. 

"Oh my god." Maya giggles. "You're right, this place hasn't changed at all." She laughs, looking around the parlor. "This is the exact table we always sat at too, oh Channie, you sure know how to make a girl so happy." She squeals, leaning her head on his shoulder. Chanyeol let out a small chuckle as he looked at her, almost admiring her leaning onto him as you sat across from the two friends, who looked alot like a couple. 

"Chanyeol? Maya?" You hear from in front of you. A little old Italian man walks up to the table with a giant smile on his face, looking at the two. "I thought that was you guys! It's been years." He smiles. "Please tell me you're finally together. I always thought the two of you would make such an amazing couple." He says, praising them and ignoring your existence. 

"This is my girlfriend actually." Chanyeol laughs, gesturing to you. 

"But who knows what the future holds." Maya chuckles, giving you a quick glare before focusing on Chanyeol once again. 

Maya made your blood boil. You were positive she was trying to take Chanyeol from you, but you knew your innocent boyfriend would never see it. He was far too invested in their friendship to think anything more could ever happen between the two of them. But that didn't stop you from absolutely hating this girl. 

That night you walked back home, behind Chanyeol and Maya who had linked arms and were deep in a discussion about something. You shivered with your arms crossed as the cool breeze hit you head on. You walked a little faster, standing next to your boyfriend and looking at him with a smile on your face. Just as he noticed you, he began shrugging off his jacket. 

"Oh babe, you're so sweet. I was just about to ask you for your jacket." You grin. 

"Oh, sorry Y/N, Maya asked for it already." He says, handing her the jacket. 

"Thanks handsome." She purrs. You stop walking and watch this girl put his jacket on and smell it, complementing the smell of his cologne, the one that you picked out for him. Instead of saying anything you just walked faster, passing the two of them and making it back to the apartment faster. That night you went to bed early, trying to avoid saying something that you probably should not say. 

That night Chanyeol crawled in beside you, wrapping his arm around your waist to pull you in closer to him. He nuzzled his head into your neck as he breathed in your scent. "I'm sorry about the jacket baby." He breathes. "I should have given it to you." 

"It's fine." You sigh. "You know I love you right?" 

"I love you, so much baby." He whispers, pushing his hard cock into your ass. "So much." 

You let out a small whimper as he reaches down, lifting up your shirt and lifting your leg to rest on his hip. He pulls down his boxers, just enough for his cock to spring free before he pushes himself inside of you, stretching out your pussy. 

"Fuck." You hiss, as your eyes roll back. It had been too long since you felt him inside of you. Chanyeol slowly thrusts his hips, pulling himself in and out of you, the sounds of your heavy breathes filling the room. "So fucking tight." He groans, his hand reaching under your shirt to cup your breast, squeezing it as he fucks you. 

You let out a loud moan making him cover your mouth with his hand, making it easier for him to hold you close, as he continues sliding his cock in and out of you. Chanyeol moves his hand down from your mouth and in between your lips, his fingertips touching your clit causing you to let out a heavy breath. His finger turns in circles as he rubs your sweet spot, his thrusts becoming a little faster as his own orgasm builds. 

"You need to cum for me, baby." He groans, now not caring about being loud. The sound of skin slapping fills the room along with your moans as you squeeze your pussy around his cock, gripping it tightly. 

"Cum baby, cum." He grunts. Your hand grips the bedsheet as your orgasm takes over, pushing through your entire body. Chanyeol holds onto you tightly as he thrusts harder, cumming even harder, shooting his load inside of you, both of you left panting as he pulls out of you and rolls on his back. You get up and head to the bathroom to clean yourself up and as you go, you can hear Chanyeol whispering "I'll always love you.." mumbling a name before drifting off to sleep. 

** 

The next morning you wake up in the late morning, Chanyeol's side of the bed is already cold, he's been gone for a while already. You check your phone and there's nothing from him, there's no note in the living room. You knock on Maya's door, peeking inside and seeing she's gone as well. You're a little upset that he didn't tell you anything but you decided to try and let it go, even though it seemed like you had been letting a lot go in the past few days that she had been around. 

That night, around 8pm, Chanyeol and Maya entered the apartment laughing together before even noticing your presence in the living room.

"Oh hey babe." Chanyeol says, seeing you sitting on the couch, watching a show. 

You said nothing. He didn't want to contact you all day, so why should you even respond? 

"I'm going to go take a shower." Maya announces, heading to the bathroom and leaving you and Chanyeol in the living room alone. 

"You okay?" He asks, sitting next to you, placing his large hand onto your thigh, giving it a tight squeeze. 

"Where were you?" You ask, turning to look at him, clearly unimpressed. 

"We just went out to meet some old friends babe." He says. "I'm sorry I didn't text or anything, we got caught up." He sighs. 

You let out a sigh as well. You have a hard time being mad at him. "I'm sorry I was mad. You had left before I woke up and I didn't know anything, it sucked." You explain. "Are you hungry? I can order dinner?" You suggest picking up your phone. 

"That's okay." He smiles, standing up. "Maya and I went to that new Italian restaurant for dinner. It was really good." He exclaims.

"The new one? The one that I wanted to try with you? That we made plans to go together?" You ask, feeling hurt by this. 

"Shit.. I'm sorry baby. I didn't even think about that. We can still go. It'll be good!" He says, trying to make the situation a little better. 

"Ooh, where are we going?" You hear from around the corner. Out pops Maya, draped in a towel, water droplets still running down her body. 

"Y/N and I are going to go to that Italian restaurant." Chanyeol tells her. 

"It's so good. I'd go back there. Just let me know when." She smiles, walking back to her room. You look at Chanyeol and roll your eyes and head to your room. Your appetite was completely gone. 

** 

The next day, Chanyeol had told you that he and Maya were going to meet some friends, and you were welcome to come, if you wanted to. 

"I'm good." You say. "You go." 

Chanyeol and Maya left the apartment, giggling to each other about whatever they had been talking about and you thought nothing of it. Until two hours later you got a text from Baekhyun, asking you why you weren't at Jongdae's. 

[7:58pm] You: What do you mean, why am I not there. Is something happening tonight?: 

[8:01pm] Baekhyun: Their annual potluck dinner?? Did Chanyeol not tell you?

You sit there, gripping your phone as you replay your conversation with Chanyeol in your head. Never once had he mentioned a potluck dinner, or the fact that they were going to meet friends that were also your friends. 

[8:06pm] You: No he didn't tell me. Just said they were meeting friends and I could come. And Maya added "if you wanted too." 

[8:09pm] Baekhyun: Typical. Chanyeol and Maya made your Buffalo chicken dip. I want to hate it. But I can't. Sehun keeps calling them Mayeol. I hate that. 

So he didn't tell you about the dinner, but they also cooked a dish together to bring. Seemed like she was more in a relationship with Chanyeol than you were. You didn't even know what to say to him, or how to bring it up, but this hurt you. You were torn on what to do. Did you let it go or did you confront him? Your mind was telling you to let it go but your heart most definitely wanted to talk to him about it and let him know how hurt you had been by this. 

A few hours later you hear the door being unlocked. You ignore the sounds of talking as they enter the apartment, focusing your eyes and ears on the drama you had currently been binging. 

"Hey Y/N." Chanyeol smiles, walking into the living room. Maya walks directly past the both of you and into her room, closing the door behind her. 

"Don't hey me." You spit. 

"Woah, what did I do?" Chanyeol asks, standing up. 

"It's what you didn't do." You fiercely whisper. "Baek texted me and asked me why I wasn't at the annual potluck that I have attended for the last 4 years. It's really embarrassing to say that you, my boyfriend, neglected to tell me and instead brought Maya." You spit. "Not to mention that you made my fucking recipe with her!" 

Chanyeol stands there looking dumbfounded as you quietly yell at him, fully aware that Maya was in the next room. You had had enough. You were being excluded on purpose and you were 98% sure she wanted to take Chanyeol from you, but he was to blind to see it. Your nails are digging into your palms as you try to control your breathing. 

"I've had enough of her here. She needs to find somewhere else to stay. I can't do this anymore." You say, tears brimming in your eyes. 

"Y/N, she's my best friend, I can't just kick her out." He sighs. 

"Out of everything I've said, that's what you have to comment on? So what am I to you? A replacement until who you truly want finally came back?" You ask. You don't even give him a chance to reply. "You better sleep on the couch tonight or I might actually choke you like I want to do right now." You sigh, walking into your bedroom and slamming the door. 

**

The next morning you walk into your living room, rubbing your eyes and you see Chanyeol laying on the couch, half asleep with Maya sitting on top of him smiling while eating a bowl of cereal. Before you can say anything, there's a knock at the door, taking you out of the room before you lose it. You open the door and there stands Sehun with a smile on his face, until he sees you and then it drops. "Maya here?" He asks. 

"Obviously." You sigh, letting him in and pointing to the living room. When you return, Chanyeol is sitting up with a blush spread across his face as Maya sits on the other side of the couch, looking annoyed as she finishes her cereal. 

"Me and Chanyeol will move your stuff into my place and then we'll go look at places today, okay?" He smiles, sitting across from Maya.

"Sounds wonderful." She grins. 

"You're moving here?" You ask, shocked. 

"Of course." She smirks.

Chanyeol and Sehun leave the room, grabbing Maya's things and heading out to take them to Sehun's place, leaving you alone with this woman. 

"Look." She starts off. You think she's going to offer some kind of apology, but you should have known better. "I was stupid to take off all those years ago, I loved Chanyeol then and I love him now. The two of you are still just.. dating, aren't you? Has he even brought up marriage to you yet? It's funny, because he always used to tell me he didn't see the point of being with someone unless he knew he was going to marry them, and that he would know by 2 years into dating. And you two have been together for how long? And still no ring? What a shame." She smiles. 

"You can't have him." You bark. "He's mine." 

"Is he though? I don't know about that one." She whispers as the door opens, and Sehun calls for Maya. "See you later. Thanks for having me." She smiles, grabbing her purse and walking out of your apartment. The door closes and Chanyeol didn't even come to say goodbye to you or anything.

** 

Over the next few days, things with Chanyeol had been weird. When he crawled into bed with you, his back was turned to you, and he wouldn't cuddle with you anymore. Sometimes you woke up in the morning and he was sleeping on the couch. You didn't quite understand what was going on, or you just chose not to see it. 

"Morning." You smile at him, walking into the kitchen. You go up to him for a kiss, and he looks at you before turning away. 

"Sorry Y/N,  gotta make a call." He mumbles, walking out of the kitchen and out the front door.  

Some nights he didn't come home until extremely late, or just later then his usual and it was killing you slowly. 

Today you didn't hear from him all day, until he showed up back at home, at 9pm. "Hey." He sighs, walking into the kitchen. 

"Hi." You whisper back. "What's going on with you? Why are you out so late all the time?" 

"Y/N, you know I'm just hanging out with friends.  

"Friends." You scoff. "Maya. She wants you." You blurt out. "Did you know that? Because we haven't talked about marriage, and apparently you said you'd propose to the one after two years and we've been together for four. So to her she thinks she has a chance." You whisper the last part.

"Christ Y/N, what is your obsession with her wanting me. We're just friends." He snaps. 

"I didn't know friends made out like that." You yell.  

Chanyeol says nothing, just stares at you, and you get the worst feeling in your stomach. 

"I saw you today, in front of the library." You say. "I didn't want to believe it. I wanted to think that she kissed you and you would push her off. But you pulled her in instead. So clearly she does have a chance. " You whisper. 

"Y/N.. it's.. it's complicated." He stutters. "I didn't think I had feelings for her..  until she came back and then everything came rushing back. I love you.. but I also love her. I've loved you both for so long. I don't know what to do." He mumbles. 

"I refuse to be anything but someone's first choice." You sniffle. "Go, be with her then. I'm done." 

"Y/N please, just give me some time to sort things out." He begs. 

"Why? When there's a possibility it's not me, I'm not going to wait around for you to decide if you love me enough, or love her more. My heart has been through enough by you. If you really did truly love me, you wouldn't even be questioning it right now, Chanyeol. You've made your decision already, now get out." 

Chanyeol walked out of your apartment without any more words spoken. You still loved him, and you were pretty sure you always would, even if you had been torn apart. 

[professorrw]

Hey could I please request a LokixReader story set on Sakaar where they have an enemies to friends to lovers relationship? Lots of fluff and smut if that’s okay. Thank you xxxx

Lord have mercy is this long. I love the request (probably a little too much). I have to warn you before reading, it's 6.6K words, the longest fic I've written yet. BUT I love it. I'm really proud of it!

Pairing: female reader x Loki

Requested: Yes

Warnings: smut, 18+, praise, unprotected sex, fingering, enemies to friends to lovers, fluff, fighting (Hulk and Thor), spoilers for Thor Ragnarok, takes place during Ragnarok

A/N: And with this finished I'm going to take a day to myself tomorrow! I'm not feeling very well and I want to catch up on my series because I've been neglecting it. Requests open, taglist open, inbox open! Please like, comment, and reblog!

You could ask anyone on Sakaar who the Grandmaster’s favorite person was and they would say it was you. You grew up on the trash planet with your father, who was a reject from his home planet. But on Sakaar you were basically royalty. Your father befriended the million year old Grandmaster when you were just two and from then on you were living in the lap of luxury.

You weren’t sure how long you’d been on Sakaar, but it had been a few hundred years. You didn’t look that old, more like twenty to thirty. But there was no way to be certain with the way that time worked on Sakaar.

Your life was perfect in your opinion. You and your father were happy and healthy on the trash planet. Every day you would dress in your finest silk robes, adorn your flashy face paint, and go to the arena to watch fights. When you weren’t doing that you were in your home or with the Grandmaster, who was basically a second father to you.

It was the end of the day and you were eating dinner with the Grandmaster, your father, and some other ‘royalty.’ As typical with all meals held by the Grandmaster it was full of excited and animated talking and extravagant food. You were too busy drinking your wine to engage in conversation, unlike your father who hadn’t touched his plate in favor of speaking to the man next to him.

Your father was a very social man, probably why the Grandmaster took such a liking to him. They were equally as flamboyant and outgoing. the Grandmaster often remarked how much you looked like your father. You had the same hair color, eye color and shape, and skin tone. Though you couldn’t tell your father’s true hair color anymore because it had started greying, contrary to the rest of his body that wasn’t aging as quickly.

There was a knock at the dining room door and the Grandmaster called for whoever it was to come in. The noise had drawn everyones’ attention, and all eyes were on the man that was being escorted in. He was tall, with fair skin and raven black hair. He was the most attractive man you had seen in a while. He didn’t look like a lot of the men you saw, but he still looked elegant.

“Who is this?” the Grandmaster asked.

Instead of waiting for the guards to speak, the detainee spoke, “I am Loki, God of Mischief and Prince of Asgard. I would like to say right now that it is a mistake imprisoning me and I will forget all about it if you let me go right now.” Loki spoke swiftly and with an accent foreign to many you heard normally. He had a very charming speech but you were in utter shock at the way he had spoken to the Grandmaster.

You expected the Grandmaster to order the guards to throw him in with the other gladiators and make him go against the champion, but he actually laughed, followed by everyone else in the room other than you.

“Well, Loki, I suppose I don’t need to make you fight. You can keep me company instead. How does that sound?”

It must not have been what Loki was expecting because he raised his eyebrows and said nothing for several seconds. “I think that would be fine,” he finally responded.

“Good, good. Why don’t you take that off him so he can pull up a chair?” the Grandmaster said to the guards. They did as he ordered and unshackled the dark haired man. As soon as he was free he grabbed a chair and planted right in between the Grandmaster and you. Loki sat down and gazed at you, offering a dazzling smile.

You squinted at him for a moment, sizing him up. You knew he was going to be trouble, to you at least.

“Ah Loki, please meet Y/N. She’s like a daughter to me,” the Grandmaster said to him.

“Hello Y/N. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” His words were so obviously a lie that it made you scowl. You could hear the sarcasm seeping from his words. You could tell that he was already trying to butter up the Grandmaster. But in actuality he was trying not to get himself killed. Thor was nowhere to be found and he was on this planet by himself.

“Likewise,” you said back. You turned away from the men and started eating your meal, pointedly ignoring Loki as you did so. You could hear their conversation and it was almost impossible not to eavesdrop. The Grandmaster was mostly talking about himself, all things that you’d already heard before. Loki, when given the chance to talk, was just complimenting him in return.

When the meal was over and the dishes were collected the Grandmaster addressed your father. “My dear Holden, would you house my company for the time being?”

You whipped your head over to the Grandmaster. You couldn’t believe the words that had just come from his mouth. You couldn’t believe he was asking you and your father to let Loki stay with you. But your father being your father would have no problem with it. You just knew he was going to accept.

As you expected he said, “Why of course, the more the merrier.”

Your house was incredibly close to the palace. There really was no need for guards to escort you and your father home but the Grandmaster thought it was necessary. So after dinner you, your father, and Loki made your way to your home. It was very beautiful, and almost as grand as the palace itself, but much smaller.

Your father was in high spirits as usual. Once you were inside your father turned to Loki with a brilliant smile adorning his face. "We are delighted to have you. Please follow me, you can sleep here in the guest bedroom. Y/N is right next door so you can go to her if you need anything."

You looked at your father with a deadpan expression, which he didn't seem to notice. Loki on the other hand was positively beaming back at your father.

"Thank you so much for the hospitality. I really cannot thank you enough."

Your father chuckled, "It's no trouble at all. Any guest of the Grandmaster's is a guest of mine. So please, make yourself at home."

"Thank you again. I am quite tired so I think I'll be heading to bed. Goodnight Holden, goodnight Y/N." He bowed and went to his chambers without another word.

You looked incredulously at your father but he seemed to not have a care in the world. He was awfully aloof when it came to matters dealing with the Grandmaster. Your father and the Grandmaster had a complicated relationship. You really had no clue what was going on with them. They called each other dear and said they loved each other, but you had seen the Grandmaster and your father doing a fair share of flirting with many men and women.

You walked to your own room with a heavy sigh. You stayed up for a few hours that night wondering about the man next door.

You quickly realized that the Grandmaster had taken a liking to Loki. The next morning you, your father, and Loki were having breakfast with the Grandmaster and Loki was hanging onto every word that came out of the man's mouth. You just knew that Loki didn't care. But what you want to know are his intentions. He randomly shows up on your planet and instantly catches the Grandmaster's attention.

You spend most of the morning with your father, preferring his company to the Grandmaster and his new pet. The next time you saw him was at lunch. And just like at dinner the previous night Loki was sitting right next to the Grandmaster. Instead of enduring the empty compliments that were coming from Loki you decided to sit farther down the table next to another one of your father's friends.

"Hello Marridija," you said as you sat down. Marridija was a very kind woman. Kind and very up to date on all the goings on at the palace. It was no surprise that she was close to the Grandmaster.

"Why hello Y/N. You aren't sitting at the front of the table today?" Her drawn-on eyebrows drew in and she tilted her head to the side slightly, making you worry that her hair, which was styled heavily with spray to keep it straight up, would tip over and ruin. Over the many years on Sakaar you had grown accustomed to the wild fashion in the palace. Everyone in the Grandmaster's group wore metallic face paint and did their hair as tall and elaborate as possible.

Out of everyone at the table Marridija had the craziest hair and brightest makeup. She always made sure she was seen in a crowd. Her hair was bubble gum pink and looked like cotton candy on top of her head. Her makeup was many bright streaks of pink, blue, and gold.

"No, not today. I thought I might try something new."

"Oh. Well I'm delighted that you decided to sit by me. I've been meaning to ask-" her eyes cut from you to something over your shoulder before returning to talking, "about your company last night."

You clenched your jaw for a second before you answered her. "What would you like to know?"

"Well… the whole palace wants to know about this mysterious man. Loki, he said." She was speaking in a hushed voice so no one other than you could hear her. If anyone heard her they would most definitely be listening in. But Marridija was good at being quiet when she needed to be. She wanted to be the first with fresh gossip, and for that she would have to hear it before anyone else.

“There isn’t much to tell really. As soon as we got home he went off to his bedroom.”

The woman narrowed her eyes for a second before giving a huff. “Oh Y/N, you won’t give an old lady a bit of juice now will you?” Her face changed from a pout to a sly smile a few seconds after she said that. “Or is there something you don’t want to share with me? A secret of your own perhaps?”

“Absolutely not Marridija. What I’ve told you is the truth. I’m sorry I have nothing juicy enough for your ears.”

You turned away from the woman and forward towards the table and the meal being set in front of you. Through the whole of breakfast you remained silent, listening to the chatter around you. There always seemed to be something to talk about on Sakaar, but with Loki’s arrival and the Grandmaster’s liking towards him has made Loki the center of attention.

After breakfast the guests were clearing out of the dining hall. The Grandmaster had dismissed everyone and he and Loki were the last to leave. You stuck around and when the Grandmaster went to use the restroom and left Loki unoccupied you walked up to him. A smile appeared on his face as he saw your smaller frame scowling at him as you neared. For whatever reason he was quite enjoying how frustrated he was making you, though he didn’t know what exactly was making you mad.

“Hello Y/N,” he greeted.

“Don’t act all innocent. You’re up to something.”

Loki’s eyebrows shot up but his smile remained. “And what would that be?”

“Well I’ve come to find that out.” You crossed your arms and planted your feet in front of Loki. It wasn’t your best look but you wanted to intimidate him. You knew it wasn’t going to be easy. He was taller than you and obviously confident enough to tell the Grandmaster it was a mistake to imprison him.

“I’m sorry to burst your bubble, as they say, but I don’t have anything planned. I landed here by mistake.” Loki said the words so simply you just couldn’t believe it. If he was telling the truth then it would take more than that to convince you.

“And why should I believe you?”

“Well I suppose you shouldn’t. You don’t know me, you don’t know my past or all the things I’ve done. Maybe we could spend some time together and you’ll realize I’m being honest.”

Loki wasn’t entirely sure why he said that last part. He had never offered to let someone get to know him. But a part of him also wanted someone to be able to talk to since he was all alone on a planet he was an outsider on. And it helped that he thought you were incredibly attractive.

You on the other hand didn’t know what to make of his words. If you accepted you might be falling right into his trap, into his plan. But on the other hand maybe he was being genuine. It surely wouldn’t hurt to find out more about him. If he was lying then you could possibly find out his intentions. So you thought the only logical decision would be to accept.

“Fine. After dinner we’ll go to my home and we can… get to know each other. But only because I want to know if you’re telling the truth.”

He laughed, “Of course, of course. See you then.”

The door you were standing next to opened and the Grandmaster himself walked out. He clasped his hands together and a smile appeared on his face. “Y/N! Thank you for keeping Loki company. Are you two getting along?”

You and Loki glanced at each other. There was no way you were going to say no, both of you had common sense. So you both put on a smile and looked as comfortable as possible.

“We are!” Loki said first. He put a huge grin on his face and leaned towards you, draping an arm around your shoulder. The sudden touch almost made you recoil, but if you did that it would look strange to the man that had just questioned your relationship.

“Well Loki and I should be going. I’ll see you at supper gorgeous.” The Grandmaster wiggled his fingers at you with an award winning smile. Loki took his arm off you and started following after him when the Grandmaster began to walk away. A hole might have been burnt into the back of Loki’s head from your staring. He was so puzzling. Irksome even.

The footsteps eventually faded as they walked further and further away from you and closer to wherever it was they were going. Your own slippered feet padded against the floor of the palace as you made your way down to the bottom level, outside, and safely in your home. It was a shame that most of the people your age were bounty hunters. You were all in all lonely. Maybe that’s what led you to agree to getting to know Loki.

You assumed he was around your age. He claimed to be a god after all, so he must be more than the average person.

Dinner rolled around and you went to the palace to eat as you did everyday. Loki was there. Though you knew he would be. You weren’t used to his presence just yet, so every time you saw him you were still slightly surprised. You were used to being around the ‘royalty’ of Sakaar for years and attending the same mundane events all the time. Loki was something new, something fresh. That’s why he was such a buzz on Sakaar. Especially when he made such an impression on the Grandmaster.

After the meal you went home and waited for Loki. You knew he would have to tell the Grandmaster some excuse for him to leave, so he was going to be a few minutes behind you.

Ten minutes after you had arrived home the door opened and Loki walked in. You couldn't help but laugh when you saw the exasperated expression on his face. You knew just how tiring the Grandmaster could be. Upon hearing the ring of your laughter Loki smiled. It was the first time he heard you make that sound and thought it was beautiful.

He slung his hair out of his face and slid into the white bar stool next to you at the kitchen island. You already had two glasses of champagne ready for the two of you. Assuming you would need it.

"What did you have to tell him to let you leave?" you asked, raising the glass to your lips.

"Well I told him I was tired and he just laughed it off then I said I was having an upset stomach and wasn't doing so well down there and he let me go."

Neither of you could hold back laughter. You were the first to start cracking up and seeing your reaction influenced Loki's joyous noise. The atmosphere was smooth and laid back. In preparation you had a drink beforehand, hence why you were so calm. Loki's smile and infectious attitude were also to blame.

In the time span of lunch and coming home you realized how ridiculous you were being. You had only just met Loki yesterday and you were already trying to accuse him of trying to harm the creator of your planet.

Once the laughter had died down you set your glass on the countertop and turned to Loki. "I'm sorry for how I've acted towards you. I haven't treated you fairly or given you a chance at all. I started jumping to conclusions and that was wrong of me. So I'm sorry, I hope you can forgive me."

“Wow- I- Yes I can forgive you. I understand where you were coming from. You care about the Grandmaster and don't want him to be in danger. I think that’s very noble of you.” The corners of Loki’s eyes crinkled up as he looked at you with a soft smile.

“Well… thank you. I’m glad we’re on good terms.” You gave him an awkward smile and took another sip of your drink. Loki picked up his own and took a sip of it.

"So your father and the Grandmaster… are they together?" he asked once his glass was empty.

“I’m not entirely sure. They’re relationship is complicated. I know they call each other love and darling but they also flirt and do things with other people too.” You cringed at the memory of coming home and hearing your father with one of his friends. But beside you Loki let out a chuckle. He was really enjoying getting to see this new side of you.

With a final tip of your flute you had finished your drink. Looking over you realized that Loki had too, so you stood and refilled it.

“I just realized I didn’t ask you if you wanted another glass,” you said when you had finished pouring.

He waved you off. “Don’t worry, I do.”

You slid his flute across the counter and leaned on it, not bothering to go back around to sit on the stool again. “So, you said that you ended up here by accident… what did you mean by that?”

“Ah, trying to find out if I’m lying again? I thought this was behind us,” he said.

“I’m not asking because of that. It is behind us. I want to know more about you and what you were doing before you got to Sakaar.”

He nodded. “Well I was with my brother. Though I don’t know why he hasn’t gotten here yet.”

“Time works differently here,” you interjected. “So if you both came through at the same time he might get here later than you did.”

“Ah okay, well that explains it then. Anyways, I was with my brother, Thor. My sister, Hela, has cast us out of Asgard and we need to get back there and defeat her. We don’t stand a chance though,” he explained.

“If you need help getting there then I’m sure my father and I can be of assistance.”

“I think I should wait for Thor to arrive, whenever that is…” he trailed off.

“He could show up any day. But while you’re here you can hang out with me.” “When you’re not with the Grandmaster that is,” you added.

“I don’t know how often I’ll be able to get away from him but I’ll definitely try.”

The last drops of your champagne slid down your throat as you smiled against your glass. You were really looking forward to getting to spend time with Loki.

For the next few days after that you guys were together any chance you got. The Grandmaster was keeping Loki close, but he was able to make up excuses to come see you when he could. Loki was like a breath of fresh air in your life. His life was a lot different than yours, but you found yourselves relating in multiple ways.

Every time you two were together all you could do was smile. It was like you had found your first true friend. But you knew that when Thor came that Loki would be leaving. Even though it was wrong you hoped that Thor wouldn’t arrive for a while just so you could have more time together.

It was a little over a week since Loki had arrived and you were laying next to each other on your leisure ship, staring up at the stars.

“It’s beautiful, everything here is,” Loki whispered. You were looking straight above you but when Loki was speaking he had turned his head towards you.

“It’s strange isn’t it? It’s called the trash or garbage planet but it’s dazzling if you take the time to look around.” When you finished speaking you rolled your head to the side to look at Loki. The whole time you were speaking he was memorizing every part of your face with a smile on his own. When you saw him smiling you shyly smiled too.

Without you realizing Loki reached his hand over and found yours. When he did he took it and interlocked your fingers. You looked down at your entwined hands. Your heart was racing and butterflies were filling your stomach.

No words were spoken, it was just the two of you underneath a blanket of twinkling stars wishing for something more. Loki’s hand was warm in yours, and you wished that same warmth would envelop your whole body. You scooted over closer and closer to the man until he wrapped his arm around you.

“This is nice,” you mumbled against his chest.

“It is. I like having you in my arms,” Loki whispered back.

You let your eyes close and the warmth and blissful feeling take over you. You woke up in bed, wrapped up in your covers. The sun was shining and filtering through your windows and splaying out on your floor. You thought back to last night and remembered you must have fallen asleep, which meant Loki must have taken you home and carried you to bed.

You walked out of your bedroom and stood right outside your door. You weren’t sure what time it was. It was morning that was obvious. Maybe it was early enough that Loki hadn’t been summoned by the Grandmaster yet. You walked over to the bedroom next to your own and knocked on the door.

“Come in,” Loki called out.

You opened the door and gently shut it back when you entered. Loki was still in bed but he was awake.

“Good morning beautiful,” he greeted you.

A tired smile went across your face as you sat down on Loki’s bed. He reached out to you and pulled you into him, setting you flush against his frame and placing a kiss on top of your head.

“How did you sleep?” he asked.

“I slept well. Thank you for bringing me back home.”

“It was my pleasure.” Loki tilted his head down and kissed the top of your head once more. His actions were so sweet you were feeling things you had never felt before. It was wild to you how quickly you had fallen for the God of Mischief.

After laying together for a few minutes there was a knock at the front door. You sighed and got out of Loki’s bed. The guards had arrived to escort Loki and you to breakfast with the Grandmaster. You both hurriedly got dressed and left to start your day.

For another two weeks things ran smoothly. You were happy. Loki was making you happy. But you knew that the day that Thor would arrive was approaching. It had been three weeks since Loki himself had fallen onto the planet, meaning his brother was not far behind.

You were sitting with Loki and mingling with other people in one of the palace rooms when Scrapper 142 announced she found someone. 142 was Grandmaster’s favorite scrapper. She brought him his champion after all. The person she had brought came into the room in the usual reinforced chair that all contenders usually did.

Loki was sitting next to you not paying any attention and neither were you until the man started yelling Loki’s name. You looked at him with confusion before you realized, it must be Thor.

When Thor finally got Loki’s attention he immediately stopped talking and got up. They were whispering back and forth fervently until the Grandmaster came up to them and interjected. They talked for a minute before Thor was thrown into the holding area for gladiators.

“That was your brother wasn’t it? Thor?” you asked when Loki came back over to you.

“Yes, yes it was.” He lowered himself back onto the couch and stayed quiet.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. I just… wasn’t expecting him.”

“Oh, okay.” You nodded. Not only did you understand but you felt the same way. You hoped maybe Thor would show up later, and give you more time. But no. He was there and when given the chance he was definitely going to leave. But that wouldn’t be too soon. If he was fighting the Grandmaster’s champion he may never leave. You had seen the green monster in action and he was brutal.

Later that day you and Loki were sitting in the upper class stands at the Grand Arena watching the fights. Loki was constantly wiping his palms on his pants and his leg was bouncing up and down. He had never seen the champion fight but you had told him how ferocious he was and that made Loki nervous.

The Grandmaster announced Thor and when he came out onto the dirt the crowd was filled with ‘boos’ and other jeers. The ring around the bottom of the stadium begins to rise to accommodate the height of Thor's opponent and the Grandmaster started to announce him.

“Ladies and gentlemen I give you… your Incredible…” he trailed off, or at least you thought he did because before he could say the actual name the fighter burst through the doors and yelled, “HULK!”

The blood drained from Loki’s face next to you. “I’ve got to get off this planet,” he mumbled.

“Why what’s wrong?” you asked, worried.

“The Grandmaster’s champion is an Avenger, just like Thor. And he’s defeated me.”

Down on the dirt Thor had looked up into your box and was yelling, “We know each other! He’s a friend from work.”

The Grandmaster’s mouth dropped open and he looked over at Loki, who was staring straight forward and clearing his throat.

Thor was making small talk with Hulk before you heard him look over and shout again, “Loki! Look who it is!”

You’d never seen Loki so nervous and afraid. You reached over and placed a hand on his arm. “It’ll be okay.”

Down below Hulk was tired of hearing Thor talk and started running towards him. The fight was in full force and Loki was getting more nervous by the second. Hulk was in it to win it, and he wasn’t sure if his brother would be able to make it out. Surprisingly Thor was able to hit Hulk, sending him all across the barrier on the arena. The crowd was silent as Thor neared Hulk. He placed his hand in Hulk’s massive one and started speaking, but you couldn’t tell what he was saying.

They weren’t fighting and everyone was still and watching. Then Hulk grabbed Thor and swung him back and forth, hitting him against the ground countless times. Loki jumped up, startling you, and shouted, “Yes that’s how it feels!”

The Grandmaster looked over at him questionably and Loki responded with, “I’m just a huge fan of the sport.” The Grandmaster didn’t say anything, just turned back toward the arena and laughed.

Loki sat back down and you looked at him with your eyebrows raised, “What was that about?”

“Well… Hulk did that to me a few years ago.”

“Really?” you laughed.

“Yes. It wasn’t one of my finest moments,” he chuckled. You both settled back down on the couch and focused on the match again. The fight progressed and favor switched between Hulk and Thor for a minute or two. The Grandmaster and Loki were leaning in and cringing depending on the blow and who it had landed on. But things weren’t looking good for Thor. Hulk had him pinned down and was beating him to death.

Blow after blow was pounding down right on Thor’s face. Then something happened. You strained your eyes to see that Thor’s eyes began to glow and lighting began to glow and crackle all around his body. He seemed to gather his strength for a second, wind back his hand and land a punch right to Hulk, sending him flying with an arch of lightning, resulting in a collective gasp from the stands.

Hulk collapsed yards away from Thor. The Grandmaster raised out of his seat, stepped forward and stared at the scene below you. The crowd was murmuring and whispering all kinds of things. You looked over at Loki, who had his elbows propped up on his knees with his mouth wide open.

Thor and Hulk both stood up and ran towards each other, jumping and then hitting one another. It was like a mini-explosion where Thor’s fist collided with Hulk. You were on the edge of your seat. It seemed like Thor could win. The crowd sure seemed to think so because they were chanting, “Thunder! Thunder! Thunder!”

Your full attention was drawn on the arena and a perplexed expression crossed your face when Thor violently shook and then fell to the ground. You looked around and saw the Grandmaster pointing his activator down at Thor, activating his Obedience Disk. You couldn’t believe it. If the Grandmaster wouldn’t have interfered then Thor could have won. He could be freed.

The Grandmaster stood up with a smile and started his projection onto the center of the arena, “Well done! Well done! Two very good fighters, but it looks like my champion has defended his title once again. Thank you everyone for attending today, I hope to see you at the next battle!”

His projection disappeared and people started to file out of the stands. You could tell by the silence that followed that the Grandmaster wasn’t too happy. He walked out of the room followed by guards, leaving everyone else alone. Loki was leaning back on the couch next to you slack-jawed.

“That wasn’t fair,” you breathed out.

He shook his head, “No, no it wasn’t.”

“At least he didn’t die. He should be okay for now,” you said, talking about Thor.

“Thank god.”

You and Loki returned home and sat down on the living room couch. You never got the chance to talk about Thor’s arrival but now no one else was around.

“You might be leaving soon,” you said.

“I may.” Loki reached his hand over and took one of yours in his. You couldn’t mistake the sadness in his voice.

“I won’t make you stay. If you need to go then you should.” You looked at Loki with pure earnestness in your eyes. It hurt to say it, but if Loki and his brother needed to leave then you didn’t want to be the reason they didn’t.

“Y/N I don’t want to go. I want to stay here… with you.”

“What about your sister? Didn’t you say she was trying to take over Asgard, your home?” you questioned with a soft voice.

“Yes but- we don’t stand a chance. If we go we’ll only die. There’s no hope for us.”

You faced your whole body towards him and dipped your head down so Loki could see your face. “You don’t know that. You’re strong and I know you aren’t a coward.”

He stayed quiet but squeezed your hand and met your eyes.

“If you need to go, don’t let me hold you back,” you repeated.

Loki strained up and gave a stern look forward as he nodded his head. “You’re right. I do need to go. Asgard is my home.” He bent his head towards you and spoke, “But I want to make my time with you count.” He leaned in and tilted his head, eyes trained on your lips. You also leaned in and closed your eyes, letting yourself dissolve into the tender kiss.

It heated up quickly, pants filling the air between you every time you parted. You crawled on top of him, straddling his lap. His hands glided from your shoulder blades to your butt, caressing you.

You pulled away and opened your eyes for a second, your face only inches from his. “Should we take this to my room?”

“Yes, we should.” Loki raised up, holding you in his arms and carrying you to your room. You slid out of his arms right in front of the foot of your bed. He started undressing, pulling off his cape, boots, and other components of his complicated outfit. Yours was much easier to get off. All you did was kick off your slippers and undo your dress in the back and let it pool at your feet.

The whole process took a few minutes and you giggled when you had to help Loki undress.

“This is a mood killer,” Loki sighed.

“It’s okay,” you giggled. You pulled off the last garment including Loki’s underwear and he turned around to let you see him. He was so beautiful, every single thing about him. You could definitely believe he was a god, because he sure looked like one. Your wandering eyes made him chuckle, but he couldn’t say anything because he was doing the same.

His hands hovered over your hips, almost like he was afraid to touch you or else you would crumble in front of him. You smiled up Loki and put your hands over his, guiding them to your bare skin. He sharply inhaled as he felt how smooth and warm your skin was. He let out a small laugh in disbelief. He couldn’t imagine himself ever being so lucky as to have you.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him down to kiss you. He lifted you up again and walked over to your bed until his knees hit the edge. He crawled on and lowered you down onto the fluffy pillows. Your body was on display for him and he was completely swooning over you.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered in awe.

“And you,” you reached up and pulled him closer to you by his shoulders, “are very handsome.”

He smiled and pressed a kiss to your cheek. Since he was already down there he crept lower and lower, placing gentle kisses from your cheek all the way down to your lower stomach. Your breath hitched as his breath fanned over your vagina. He gave it a small kiss before he leaned back. He replaced his mouth with his fingers, sliding them up and down your folds before inserting one.

He surveyed your face as he began to curl his finger making you start moaning quietly.

“Does it feel good?” he asked tentatively.

“Yes,” you moaned out.

He smiled and continued to work you up, building the pressure inside your lower stomach. You couldn’t keep your eyes open. You tried to, but with all the new feelings going on you were squeezing them shut. Loki frowned and cupped your cheek with his hand, rubbing it with his thumb.

“Princess, will you look at me?” he asked. You opened your eyes and did as he asked. You kept your eyes open but your lids were only half open.

You loved the way his fingers felt but you wanted more- you wanted him. “Loki- Loki I want you inside me.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m positive.”

He pulled his fingers out and wrapped that hand around his cock, pumping it and getting it ready to be inside you. He spread your legs further than they already were and walked forward on his knees until his tip was right against your entrance. You put his hand around it and guided it in slowly, letting you adjust to the length.

Your hands were on either side of your pillow and you were squeezing it. It wasn’t very painful, but it didn’t feel right to just have your hands open, so you clenched them around your silk pillowcase. Loki saw them and put his own hands on top of yours. As he rolled his hips into you that’s what kept him stable.

“Darling, you make me feel-” he moaned, “so good.”

The inside of you was warm and velvety, encasing his dick in a personal heaven. In just a few minutes he knew what was going to come. Him.

Loki was making you feel just as good as you were making him, if not better. You weren’t a virgin. You had lived long enough to want men and take them back home with you. But none of them were making you feel the way Loki was. He knew exactly what to do, what pace to go at, and all the right words to say. The gentle moans and vulnerable face were so beautiful above you that tears were staining your cheeks.

Worry crossed Loki’s face, he thought you were hurting. “Are you okay?” he asked quickly.

“I’m fine, you’re just- you’re so beautiful.”

He choked out a laugh and regained his original pace. The compliment had warmed his entire body. He was on cloud nine. There was a growing sensation in his lower region and he could feel his orgasm coming.

“I’m about to cum,” he panted.

“Go ahead darling, cum for me,” you returned. His eyes widened but he went ahead, cock stiffening before releasing his cum.

You moaned, head falling to the side from the buzz traveling through your body. You arched your back in an attempt to hurry your own orgasm along. You could feel it approaching but it couldn’t get there soon enough for you. Loki thrusted faster and tried to hit that spot that he knew you had. He succeeded, and an overwhelming pleasure drifted through you.

Your walls clenched around his dick and your own juices squirted out. You sniffed and wiped your tears, opening your eyes to see Loki’s face in complete and utter amazement. You laughed a little as he pulled out of you and rolled over to be by your side.

“What was that face for?” you asked.

“That was the best I’ve ever felt. You are… perfect in every way.”

“I feel the same about you.” You turned on your side and placed a hand on his cheek, just like he had done to you a few minutes prior.

He nuzzled closer to you, putting his face in the crook of your neck. “I’ll come back for you. I promise,” he whispered.

“I’ll be waiting,” you responded while stroking his hair.

Taglist: @deanscroissant

[eureka-its-zico]

Damage

Request: You meet JB in a bar and have a one-night stand

A/N: My friend has asked me for JB fics none stop. I haven’t been able to finish one, because I get stuck in my head and think everything is trash. I think this one is okay, at best. I’ve edited as much as my eyes can stand. Either way, she seemed to enjoy it. I hope you all enjoy it in some way too. Much Love, Jenn

p.s. It’s named Damage because I literally had the song of the same name from H.E.R playing on repeat the entire time.

Jaebum X Reader

Genre: SmUt

Words:5534

Warnings: semi-public sex, rough play, some ass-slaping - you get the picture -

There was a time that the idea of sleeping with a complete stranger from a bar would’ve never crossed your mind. It wasn’t that you were a prude. A part of you secretly wanted to know what it felt like to be so overwhelmed by another that they made you less cautious and more adventurous. No one ever seemed able to stir that emotion in you, however. 

Until you’d met JB. 

Now, as his fingers traced across your skin, his lips kissed at the hollow of your neck, you couldn’t imagine an alternate universe where you didn’t say yes. Where you weren’t pressed into the backseat of a stuffy cab not caring that you had an audience while JB’s hand made its way between your thighs. His mouth hungrily lapping up your moan as his fingers slid under the edge of your panties. 

A part of you should’ve felt embarrassed. You were passengers in this cab. The obvious audience of the older man up front would’ve normally made you shove his hand away with your cheeks pink; pretending to care if they watched. 

But JB was a force you weren’t used to. One that threatened to consume you and god, did you want to be consumed. 

EARLIER

————————-

“Come on, Y/N. You can’t be sad forever about that asshole.” 

Your fingers skimmed the paper of your beer smearing an image of a heart in the condensation. Your teeth drawing in your bottom lip as you thought about what your friend was saying. Of course, she was right. It was two weeks, give or take, since you broke up with Mark. You’d had your days of wallowing, eating copious amounts of ice cream, and crying on the couch watching rom-coms and asking why can’t your life be like this? 

There wasn’t any doubt your ex wasn’t off doing the same. Hell, he’d made sure to take pictures of his latest escapades and made sure to share it to his social media. Not that you were looking at any of it or anything. 

“You’re right,” you huffed out in defeat. 

Why was it so hard to let him go? It wasn’t like he’d had such a hard time deciding to end your relationship. 

“I’m sorry. What was that? Can you say it a little louder for me please I’m hard of hearing.”

You shot her a look of disbelief that sent her head falling back with laughter. 

“This one time you might be a little bit right.”

You took a swig of your drink to hide your own smile. 

“Plus, how can you be sad over that loser when the hottest dude is five feet away.”

You followed her eyes to see what had her making such a bold claim. There were plenty of good looking men and women in the bar. How could one person possibly hold the title when your opinion could be different? 

It wasn’t. 

You found him easily. No longer needing the guide of your friend to find who it was that’d caught her attention. And sweet Jesus he was hands down the best looking in the room. 

He was leaning up against the wall. His eyes half crescent moons as he smiled. One hand holding a beer that was close to his lips as he replied back to whatever his friend said. You shamelessly watched how his lips wrapped around the bottle to take a drink. The sharpness of his jaw and the expanse of his neck. 

You wanted to know what he looked like with his mouth on you and tasting the sweetness between your thighs. 

The desire for it caused your legs to squeeze together to give yourself any sort of friction. Your mind still going over the fantasy you were creating with him in the starring role. Suddenly, he was looking back at you. A harsh blush rose to your cheeks at being caught but refused to look away. 

God! What am I doing?! 

You’ve never been the one to make the first move. Of any kind. Eye contact felt like a first move of showing interest, but you were more than interested and a part of you wondered if he could see it. See that even this far between your spaces in the bar how badly you wanted to know how he tasted. 

A gasp brought your attention back to the position of your friend. Her mouth agape in shock but that threatened to spill into a smile at any moment. 

“Hollleeeeey shit! Did you just give that guy ‘fuck me eyes’ from across the bar?”

You scoffed at the idea before shooting a cautionary look back in his direction. Using your elbows that were on the top of the bar you swiveled yourself to face the many rows of liquor. Fighting the urge to look back at him again or acknowledge your friend bouncing in her seat. 

“Yes you fuckin did!”

Your reply was a quick swig of your drink as you tried your best not to grimace at the taste. You’d been babysitting it too long and now it was lukewarm. 

“I've had my heart broken. I’m not dead,” you replied. 

“Let’s go over and talk to them!”

Your head whipped in her direction so fast you swore you’d ended up with whiplash. Yes, you were looking. And yes, this man did provoke unholy fantasies, but that didn’t mean you were ready to be that close. 

“You’re joking.”

“Nope. I think this will be good for you.”

She ignored your burst of panic and waved down the bartender who acknowledged her sooner than you would’ve liked. 

“What can I get you ladies.”

“Two shots of tequila, please.”

“What are you doing?” 

She wiggled her brows at you and rubbed her shoulder up against yours. Her weak attempt to pump you up with excitement for whatever diabolical thing she’d planned. 

“Just a little liquid courage before we head on over.”

“Heading towards the door, you mean.”

Your words came out as a grumble. A pout setting in as the bartender set down the small glasses in front of the two of you. Which she quickly slid hers to click beside yours. 

“You, my lovely friend, are going to have both.”

“Are you trying to give me alcohol poisoning?”

“Nope. Just trying to help you get some guiltless sex with a stranger.”

“Wow. You’re so amazing,” you deadpanned. Your hand snacking out to grab one of the shot glasses downing the first one. You were sure the reaction you were having looked like a cartoon character. God, this stuff was disgusting. “I’m pretty sure that stuff causes forest fires.” 

The bartender offered you a lemon, amusement flashing in his eyes. You were hoping he could see the thank you in yours with your mouth shoved full of lemon. 

You left it sitting in your mouth; teeth clenched tight against the softness and the peel exposed between your lips. You wondered if this was picture worthy and received your answer moments later when your friends’ camera flashed in your face. Your vision erupting in sparks of dark spots that left you unable to see. 

“Sorry. I couldn’t help it.”

With the peel still held between your lips you made a face at her. Her mouth opened to reply, and suddenly it closed. Her eyes wide and darting from you to whoever was now perched beside you. 

You remembered you still had a shot left and decided it was time to meet your fate. Your legs moved to turn you to sit straight on the stool when you realized someone was beside you at the bar. In perfect horror movie fashion, you glanced at your right and saw the man who’d caused your need for liquid courage. 

He was just there. His body casually leaning against the bar with an air of coolness that didn’t seem forced. He was talking with the bartender. The two of them locked in a conversation like they were old friends and catching up. Maybe they were. 

Up close he was even more striking. His hair was perfectly slicked back to make it appear short, but it was anything but. The gel he’d used was beginning to wear off and displayed hair that was beginning to fall into his eyes. 

You wanted to run your hands through it. To grip it as you rode his tongue. 

It felt like he must have had a sensation of what you were thinking. He ended his conversation and turned to look at you. A spark of laughter lit up the dark brown of his eyes and you swore you were swooning in your chair. 

“I see you must really like lemons.”

Your brow furrowed as you wondered what the hell he could be talking about. He must have caught on to your confusion and patted a single digit against the lemon peel still peaking like a smile between your lips. Your eyes shot wide with horror as you not too gracefully spit it out onto the napkin. 

“Oh...my...god,” you whispered at the wood of the bar. Praying that the floor would open up and swallow you whole. 

“Hi!” Your friend shot an arm over you with her hand extended for him to shake. “My name’s Vanessa. This is my lovely friend, Y/N. The lemon sucker.” 

Your head jerked in her direction and you hoped she could see how much you wish you could hit her. 

The man beside you, however, looked nothing but amused and took Vanessa’s hand. You couldn’t keep your eyes from looking at his fingers; the way it practically covered all of hers. 

“Nice to meet you both.”

He released her hand and shocked you by leaving his hand open and waiting for you to take. You glanced up at him and then back down to his hand. You took it without waiting too long, because you didn’t want him to think you were rude, or worse, weirder than he probably already did. The minute your hands folded around the other you swore it was electric. 

“My name’s Jaebum. Everyone calls me JB, for short.” 

Jaebum. JB. You would call him whatever he wanted. His voice was soft as he spoke and forced you to move closer to hear him. You wondered if that’d been his plan. It was the only thing you could think of as his thumb caressed over the knuckles of your hand before he took it away. 

You dropped your hand down to the side of your skirt and fought not to rub it against the fabric. The attraction you felt for JB was something that’d come unexpected and you found yourself inexperienced. It felt overwhelming this need to touch him. To be touched in return. To know how he sounded with your lips wrapped around his cock and those same hands on the back of your head. Bending you over and smacking your ass until it was cherry red. 

You were still staring at each other as these devilish thoughts played out in your head. His eyes roamed your face and you wondered what he saw there. If JB could see the dirty scenarios he held the starring role in. His gaze slid over you from the tips of your toes, over the exposed legs from your skirt, your chest, and back up to your face. 

There was no denying he’d thought of his own scenario with you in mind. His pupils fully blown with lust when he brought his eyes back up to you. Your pulse thudded wildly as you struggled to remember how to properly breathe. 

“Did you girls want to come back over to our table?” The question was meant for both Vanessa and you, but when he asked his gaze never left you. He only looked away to point to his indicated spot. “It’s just me and a couple of my friends. I promise, we aren’t weird or anything.”

A bright smile spread across his lips and if you weren’t swooning earlier, you were definitely doing it now. You were nodding your head yes, unsure if you could trust yourself to talk. Vanessa, unfortunately, didn’t seem to have that issue. 

“That would be amazing and so good for her. Her boyfriend just broke up with her. She’s very vulnerable.”

Oh. My. God. Was she winking like an idiot? 

You looked back at her and couldn’t keep the horror off of her face. Luckily, JB laughed it off. He reached out to grab the drinks he’d ordered and motioned with his head for you girls to follow. You waited for Vanessa to start forward before you fell into step beside her. Your arm shooting out to wrap itself around hers just so you could use it to pull her in tight. 

“What in the hell was that!?”

“I’m trying to help you here. Most men love the idea of a girl on the rebound.”

“Because they think they’re easy, Nessa.”

“Precisely.” 

She flicked her finger up like she’d just made a great discovery. The only thing she was about to discover was that you were, in fact, desperate but for a whole other reason. 

No part of you could remember your ex looking at JB. And while the idea of any sort of relationship with him, physical or otherwise, made you excited there was still that small voice in your head. The not so fun responsible part of you reminded you that you didn’t know him. He could be a weird pervert or a serial killer. Ninety-nine percent of serial killers were usually attractive. 

You let out a sigh not sure how to tell her nicely to butt out. 

“Just, help me less. Ok?”

She regarded you for a moment. Her arm peeling itself out of yours before bringing you in quickly for a one-armed hug. 

“Alright. Girl Scouts honor I won’t say anything else.”

“Thank you!”

And you meant it. Lord knew she only meant well, but in the end it came off embarrassing. Like the two of you were sixteen and in high school again. With you passing notes to all the boys you liked because you were too damn nervous to say anything to their face. You thought it was romantic. In reality, it just seemed well, kinda awkward. 

The two of you stood beside the pool table and you did your best not to fidget with your bag. The weight of six new sets of eyes made you feel like an animal in a zoo. 

“Guys, this is Vanessa and Y/N. I invited them over to hang out with us. If that’s cool.”

The friends all seemed to go from caution to excitement at seeing you in two point five seconds. All of them agreeing it was cool, and waving you all over to find a chair to sit in. 

You were following Vanessa to seats in between two  of his friends, when a soft hand on your arm stopped you. You knew without looking it was JB. Your body reacting instantly to his touch as if it’d been set on fire. 

“You can sit next to me. If you’d like.”

“I’d like that very much.”

Your voice was breathy. Like you were telling him a secret the two of you only needed to hear. The chair in question that sat beside his own, was inches from him. So close that when you sat down your knees were next one another. 

He regarded you briefly before he turned his attention back to his group. His arm snaking around your chair to rest on its back. You were aware that it was a show of dominance. Of signaling to his friends and anyone else who cared to look that you were his. The thought of it sent a thrill through your body of being claimed. Only wishing he would claim you another way too. 

JB’s group of friends were fun and easy to get a long with. One of them in particular, Hyun-Bae, was incredibly funny. He told stories that were entertaining and knew when to use his humor to make everyone laugh. It was enough to make you almost forget the man beside you. Almost. 

You weren’t sure when it had happened, but somewhere between everyone talking, JB’s hand that’d rested comfortably on the back of your chair had moved. His fingers brushed along your skin from your shoulder to collarbone. Each stroke deliberate; sexual and not. Like he could read that you found it comforting but also craved his touch. 

You ached with the urge to kiss him. To taste the liquor on his tongue. All those times you turned to imagine yourself leaning in and doing just that, you’d met his gaze. The two of you shared  a look of knowing and wondered if he’d just been waiting for you to close the last inches of space between you. You were looking at each other now; eyes hungrily glancing at the others lips. 

You wanted to be brave. To just close that space and tell him just to take you home. Screw this dance of cat and mouse. You didn’t want to be chased. You wanted to be owned. 

Instead, a soft, “Excuse me,” came from you as you rose up from your chair. You couldn’t get your  feet to walk fast enough to the bathroom. You were moving so fast you practically took someone out on the way inside. Getting inside the bathroom, you quickly shut the door and turned the lock. 

You were instantly greeted by your reflection in the dirty, marker-ridden, mirror. What you could see of yourself was defeated. A huff of frustration left you as you removed your bag from your shoulder and placed it on the hook on the back of the door. Your feet scuffing the ground as you took a somber approach to the sink. 

You told Vanessa you could do this. You didn’t need help to tell a hot guy you wanted him to fuck you until your legs were far past jello and more like liquid. And every time you were given the opportunity to do something at all, you backed out. 

You rested your hands on the sink and leaned in. Examining your makeup and how very un-messy it was. 

“Note to self: just fuckin do it.”

Yup. The greatest of pep talks. 

You weren’t ready to leave the sanctity of the bathroom but a knock sounded on the door. Reminding you very quickly that there were actual people who probably needed to use it. You moved to pick up your bag when another knock came. 

“Yea, yea I’m coming. Chill.”

When you opened the door, however, JB was just there. His body pushing into the bathroom causing you to step back to give him room. He closed the door without looking back. His body fully facing you as the door clicked closed behind him. 

“JB? Sorry I was just using the restroom-”

“Is that what that was? I mostly heard talking; no flushing.”

His lips spread in an amused smile no doubt at your expense. Your eyes were probably as white as the moon. How long had he been waiting out here?

“Sorry. I just got a little impatient waiting for you.”

In one fluid motion, his arm snaked around your back, and brought you to his chest. JB was prepared for you and his other hand was already holding your face giving him the perfect leverage to crash his mouth down on yours. The moment your lips met that electricity you’d felt earlier flared back to life. This time, it flared across your skin and sparked in every spot he touched. 

The kiss started out a brush of lips and soon became more. His tongue danced at the edge of your bottom lip and you gladly opened up to him. Your hands plunging to make a mess of his perfectly gelled hair at the same time his tongue slipped inside your mouth. 

You were eager to respond. Eager to caress his tongue with yours. His mouth tasted of the bittersweet liquor he’d sipped on for the last hour. Suddenly, the overwhelming urge to taste yourself on his lips made your body ache to be touched in other places. For your fantasies of his mouth on you to begin here. You didn’t care where. 

JB seemed to understand what you needed. He broke from the kiss fast and turned you around. His body pressed against your back and his hands at the edge of your skirt. You watched in the mirror as he moved your skirt up to your hips exposing your thong to the room. 

He watched you, his lips hovering over your ear before giving it a playful nip, and those same hands were now laced in the strings. JB moved back just enough to squat down so his hands could move them down your legs until he reached your ankles. 

“Step out.”

You followed his command without question. Your head tilting back to watch the little bit of cloth he held in his hand get scrunched up even smaller and placed inside the front pocket of his jeans. His eyes looked up to meet yours, and your body froze with anticipation. Whatever he would ask you to do, you knew you would comply. 

“Spread your legs.”

The demand in his voice was feverish. His own need on display as his hand caressed up your calf until it was between your thighs. A finger teasingly moved across your opening, causing a soft gasp to exit from your lips. You did as you were instructed and waited until you heard an approving, “Hm,” from his lips. 

The room swelled as the anticipation grew. The reflection you’d seen moments ago was washed away and the woman who’d taken her place was eager and ready to offer up her own demands. 

JB moved to stand on his feet with his hands traveling along the curve of your legs and up onto your hips. There his fingers dug into the soft flesh as he leaned into your back, his eyes on yours in the mirror, as he spoke into your ear, “Place your hands on the sink.”

“Spank me first.”

A shiver of shock ran through you. You couldn’t believe you’d said it, but after your request had left you, you’d refused to take it back. Your body craved to be reprimanded by his hands and the smirk on his lips told you plainly he was more than happy to oblige. 

“Beg for it.”

“Please spank me. Please, JB.”

His hand curled up to wrap around your throat as his index finger danced at the edge of your lips. 

“How bad do you want it?”

“I want I-“

The smack reverberated like thunder in the small room. The sting was instant and beautiful. The heat between your legs was aching and your ass jetted against his jeans for any kind of friction. JB stepped back, denying you any form of relief, and landed another smack on your exposed cheek. 

This one made your knees wobble as the pleasure rolled through you. Your hands on the sink was the only thing that saved you from showing him what he’d done. 

“You love that don’t you?”

JB already knew you did, but he wanted to hear you. He needed to hear you say how much you loved feeling his hand leaving its mark, red and angry, on your skin. 

“Yes,” you gasped. “It feels so good.” 

He landed another smack and you couldn’t keep yourself quiet anymore. Your moan loud and aching like your pussy. Luckily, his hand was still on your throat and silenced you by placing his fingers in your mouth. You sucked on them immediately and this time you could feel JB rut against your ass. The hardness of his cock pressed against the fabric of his jeans gave away just how turned on he was at your bathroom escapades. 

He pulled his fingers free from your mouth and, with the same fingers, slick and wet, placed it between your legs. The two digits moving to slide between your folds. First, scissoring around your clit; caressing the delicate bud until you gave him the moan he worked for. 

When the soft sound left you JB slid them deep inside you causing the noise to become louder. A shudder ran through your body as you backed up into him. 

His fingers removed themselves suddenly, and you couldn’t keep the disappointment from escaping you. A whine you were sure sounded like you were close to tears. JB gave your ass another smack and all it did was drive the need inside you closer to madness. 

His hands planted themselves onto your ass and you felt him kneel down. Those two strategically placed hands lifting up the flesh there leaving your pussy exposed and aching in his view. Your hands were gripping the porcelain of the sink so tight you’d thought it’d crack. Your body trembling in anticipation of what he might do and the need to cover yourself up playing tug-of-war in your head. 

The idea of any sort of hiding vanished when his mouth planted itself between your legs. His tongue snaking out to flick across your clit made you back up to greet his mouth. JB quickly took that moment to slide his tongue from clit to ass. The sensation was so foreign and new to you, you weren’t sure if you should be embarrassed, but the pleasure you got quickly washed the thought away. 

JB gave you no time to pull yourself together. His face was back between your legs with an eager tongue to lick up every last drop. His tongue swirled around your clit and sent light flicks when you were least expecting it. Each time your legs threatened to crumble, but JB held you there with steady hands.

His tongue explored you thoroughly and put to his memory what made your knees weak. What caused a soft mulling sound of need to claw up from your throat. And what caused your grip on the sink to become almost violent. 

Between each languid lick his tongue would find itself taking long strides all the way up and back down to your peak. Your body had now grown accustomed to the new sensation, and you welcomed it greedily as you pushed back against his face. 

When JB knew you were so close to your sweet release he focused his tongue more on your swollen bud. Each new caress of his tongue gradually made it harder for your arms to hold you up. For your legs to keep from shaking uncontrollably. 

Your orgasm continued to grow; blossoming between your folds with an ache that your body felt. You were so, so close and with a final thrust of his tongue you felt your world spin and that sweet heat between your legs finally sent shockwaves all over your body. 

You came moaning so loud anyone else would’ve thought you were screaming. Your head thrown back and riding the sensation of his greedy mouth taking everything you had to offer. 

When his lips finally released from you, your body was still coming down from your orgasm. The loud panting that came from you as you leaned against the sink completely spent. You watched in the mirror as he pulled a golden foil packet from his pocket. His eyes sinfully watching you as he ripped it carefully with his teeth. JB’s finger moved quickly to take out the slick rubber from the packet and begin to work it down his shaft. 

You’d been so consumed with recovering from his tongue that you hadn’t realized when he’d taken his cock out of his jeans that were now shameless at his ankles. He put a few fingers inside your wetness that caused you to gasp. Your body was still recovering from what had just taken place. 

He used your cum to lubricate himself and placed himself at your entrance. Already the tip of him stretching you out with the delicious sting that told you he was thick. You couldn’t wait. 

You moved to push back into him to help him inside and he pulled away. His hand smacking down on your ass making you even more eager. 

“Patience is a virtue.”

He tried to be funny, but his voice was deep and throaty with his own lust. You were close to pleading with him again like before, but he let it be known quickly he had no intentions to wait. 

JB slid inside you and you felt your pussy stretch to accommodate him. The feel of him making your breath catch. His girth much thicker than you’d imagined, and your body shook from the pleasure of feeling yourself stretch around him. 

His thrusts started off slow until he knew you’d had enough time. His hands found an anchor on your hips and used them to pull you in to meet his hips. A string of curse words fell from your mouth as your hips rocked back into him. 

Each movement felt like he was going deeper. JB’s hands on the cheeks of your ass kept you spread open to him and left no friction to catch his thrusts. Every single one was felt as he buried himself inside you in a rhythmic timing that left you moaning. 

You caught your reflection in the mirror, and glanced over to watch him as he worked. The way his hips bucked up only to be brought down. His hands stationed on your hips and bruising the flesh there as his grip got tighter. JB looked up and caught a glimpse of you in the mirror. His eyes locked with yours as he continued that unrelenting pace. 

He removed a hand from your ass and used it to wrap back around your neck. When he knew he had a good grip, he used it to pull you close to his chest. The angle of him in this new position somehow made him feel like he was pushing into your gut. 

Your mouth opened to make another sound, a moan or a scream you weren’t sure which, when that hand in your throat tilted your mouth towards him. His own came crashing down on your lips with his tongue that tasted of you slipping inside. You eagerly opened your mouth to him, and your tongue quickly moved to get a taste. 

JB deepened the kiss as his hips began to thrust harder into you. The movement building up your orgasm with each brutal movement until it threatened to spill over. 

“You taste so good with me on your lips.”

Your words fell earnest from your lips. You meant every one of them. You’d never tasted yourself so pretty on anyone else’s lips. JB obliged as he took your lips back. His mouth silenced another moan as his last free hand found its way back to your clit. Your body jumped at the added sensation. Your mouth tore away from his as another moan dripped from your lips. 

You were so close. You could fill yourself ready to cum if only he would let you. JB must have been close too, because his thrusts started becoming more violent and sporadic. Hitting in all the right places.

 At the same time as his fingers made small circles around your clit, a singular hard thrust of his hips sent his cock deep inside you. Your vision erupted in a sea of white. Your orgasm sent your body rutting back against him. 

He rode your orgasm and somehow made it grow in intensity as he continued to move his hips. His own breathing going ragged as you felt him finally release into you. 

When you both were able to breathe again, you’d realized you were laying over the sink. JB’s forehead resting on your back as you both struggled to regain your composure. 

JB was the first to move. The first to begin the arduous process of cleaning up. Like a voyeur, you watched him as he threw away the spent rubber and tuck himself back inside his jeans. A smirk creased your lips when you noticed he now had noticeable wet spots on his tee shirt. 

“You know, I don’t even know anything about you.”

You weren’t sure why you made the comment or why it mattered. You’d just had sex with the man in a damn bar bathroom. But JB didn’t seem to mind. His own smile curling his lips as he salvaged what he could of his hair. 

“What would you like to know?”

“Well,” you began as you started to situate your skirt. “What’s your favorite color?”

It was a silly question. By the look on JB’s face, he knew it was, but he humored you anyways. 

“It used to be blue, but I think red might be a new favorite.” 

“Why is that?”

You were wondering where your panties had gone until you spied a bit of the black cloth hanging from his pocket. JB walked over to you in a few steps and planted a soft kiss down on your lips. One that spoke plainly, this wouldn’t be the last time you’d see each other. 

“Because it currently matches the color of your ass.”

JB was out the door and in the bar’s hallway before you’d even got a chance to respond. 

[thisisarcanereverie]

What it Means to be Worthy (Thor x Reader)

ULTIMATE MASTERLIST

THERE IS SMUT IN HERE 18+ YOU THIRSTY SONS OF BITCHES.

WARNINGS: unprotected sex (wrap it up pals) Do NOT read unless you are 18+. 

Also I have never written smut before so I hope it’s ok. I honestly couldn’t have written it if I hadn’t been listening to Deity by Valeree (highly recommend listening while reading the smut. It will probably make it better.) 

“Thor,” you called the God of Thunder, “Thor it’s (Y/n).”

You heard a small grunt coming from the living room as you entered through the front door. You immediately went to cover your nose from the stench that invaded your senses upon entering. 

It seemed as though the whole house smelled of rotten food, sweat, and something akin to a pigs feces. It was a smell that you never quite got used to, even after 2 years of smelling it every day. 

You quietly made your way through the house until you saw a sight you were quite used to seeing now. 

Thor on the ground, shirtless, covered in sweat and grime. His beard was filthy from vomit and dandruff and his hair greasy and matted to his head. 

There had been a time where he cared so much about his hair that he got triggered if you had tried to trim it. 

After 2 years of seeing this scene before you, it failed to surprise you. 

Now it just angered you. 

You knew you couldn’t understand the pain he was in, he lost his entire family, half his people, and Asgard. 

Sure, the people of Midgard were generous and gave your people sanctuary, a place for your people to call home once again. 

But that didn’t stop you from missing Asgard’s golden palace and it’s mountains of lush green forests. How you missed running with Thor and Loki through those forests after dark to get to the highest peak you could to watch the glittering of the gold during sunrise. 

You had been playmates with the Princes since infancy. You had trained and fought alongside them in battle, joined them in celebrations after each conquest, mourned the loss of Frigga with them. 

You went with Thor all those years ago to retrieve Loki and joined the Avengers with him. 

But now the Avengers were gone, long since disbanded before the battle of Wakanda. 

You weren’t angry at him, your anger was towards the cruel fate that had befallen your precious friends. You had cared for Loki, almost as much as Thor if not equal to. 

If you were honest, you weren’t in better shape. Your grief had taken hold of you as well. Your kind smile had turned cynical. Anyone who tried to get close to you often was met with your icy glare and scoff. 

Thor was the only one who brought out the caring person you once were. 

With a deep sigh you expertly walked around the empty booze bottles and to the grieving man before you. Thor may have gotten soft around the middle but he weighed about the same as you slumped his arms around your shoulders. Thor groaned and went pale, his eyes barely opening. 

“C’mon blondie,” you softly spoke, “let’s get you washed up.”

You half dragged the god to the bathroom, he threw up halfway there but you paid no mind. You would clean that after getting him in the shower. 

You didn’t bother stripping him before setting him in the tub. Without warning or mercy you pointed the shower hose directly at his face and turned the water to icy cold. 

Thor yelled at the icy feeling, borderline pleading, for you to turn off the water. However, over the course of 2 years the patience you had for him had worn thin and so you continued to spray until the stench subsided a little. 

Thor was fully awake and sober now, seeing your figure as clear as day tower over him in the tub with a look on your face akin to a mother scolding a misbehaving child. 

Thor felt so small and powerless under your gaze and he loathed it. 

“You could have stopped a while ago.”

“This needs to stop Thor.” 

Your hands motioned to him, Thor once admired those hands and the strength that they had. Now he just found them annoying. 

He found you annoying. 

You came by everyday and pulled him out of his stupor, clean up after him a little, and try to clean him up. You treated him like a child who couldn’t take care of himself and he loathed it so. 

“I am King of Asgard you do not get to tell me what to do.”

“What King would wallow himself in such a way.”

He bolted upright and stood in the tub, successfully towering over your frame, you had gone too far. You didn’t get to say such things to him. 

What Thor didn’t count on was the world getting fuzzy and a little dark when he stood up, so although he towered over you he was as stable as a wind chime. 

You held onto his frame to prevent him from falling flat onto his face. You felt Thor stiffen under your touch. 

You knew Thor was now sensitive and insecure in areas he never was before. 

It seemed like yesterday that he was admiring himself in one of Asgard’s golden mirrors, his long hair had looked like spun gold in Asgard’s sunlight and his figure was that befitting of a god. 

But none of that had ever mattered to you, even when Thor became full of himself to the point of him being ill tempered and arrogant, you couldn’t find it in yourself to ever give up on him. 

Not that you tried to give up on him anyways.

Loki had asked you one day why you didn’t. Why didn’t you give up on the golden prince when he clearly would never feel the same way. 

“I love him too much to be without him. Even if that means watching him parade himself around as a peacock and watch women fly to him like bees to honey.” 

Then Thor was banished and the only reason why you didn’t follow was due to Loki’s intervening. 

Then Thor met Jane Foster. 

The memory of the beautiful scientist brought back bittersweet memories. You had never seen Thor so deep in love, and that made you both sad and happy. 

Happy that he finally found someone who could keep him humble and who he loved just as much as you loved him. 

Sad that when you often caught Thor daydreaming, that it wasn’t you he was daydreaming about. 

You shook yourself out of your thoughts and sat the giant on the edge of the tub while you went to gather fresh clothes for him. 

You gathered a simple sweatshirt and pants for him to pull on once he was finished with his shower. 

As you set the clothes beside the sink you couldn’t help but feel the gnawing feeling in the deepest parts of your heart and the nagging thoughts in your head. 

You knew that Thor was hellbent on this self destructive path and you knew that there was nothing you could possibly do to prevent it. 

It was either you let Thor drown himself in his despair or you let him drown you with it as well. 

You had accepted long ago that Thor would never see you as anything more than what you had always been. 

His playmate since infancy. 

The girl who got a starry look every time he entered a room. 

You had saved up money from the jobs you had worked over the past 2 years, you finally saved up enough to get away from New Asgard. Leave its people to the hands of their self pitying King and Val. 

It wasn’t like they needed you or the other way around. 

No one would notice your absence. 

You began to pick up around Thor’s home, recycling empty liquor bottles and trashing pizza boxes and rotted food. Vacuuming the carpets and dusting here and there. 

This will be the last time you do as such. 

You needed to leave, staying here and wallowing in Thor’s despair and depression as much as your own wasn’t good for you. And you knew deep down you had been enabling him, every time you cleaned his house and washed and fed him you knew that he only got worse and that you were supporting him when you did this. 

You needed to leave for Thor’s sake as much as your own. 

You wondered how long it would take him to notice. 

You couldn’t bring yourself to tell Thor, you doubt he would even care at this point. 

The walk back to your house was only a few minutes, having moved into the house closest to his in case of emergency. 

Most of your things were packed and already in your apartment in New York waiting for you. Well things of value, the rest you had sold online, it was amazing what the internet could do. By far one of the greatest inventions on Midgard in your opinion. 

All that was left to do was, pack a few pieces of clothing and toiletries. 

And write a goodbye letter to Thor explaining where you went and why. 

You had avoided writing it, not wanting to say goodbye. Not wanting Thor to not care. 

It wasn’t like you were completely leaving Thor, Valkyrie (Val as you called her) assured you that she would make sure he didn’t starve or drink himself to an early grave. 

You trusted her to make good on her promise. 

You leaving wasn’t even your idea in the first place, Val had tried to get you to leave a year earlier, but you were too stubborn to leave then. 

You grabbed the piece of stationary and began to write. 

‘Thor, 

By the time you're sober enough to read this I’ll already be gone. I don’t predict that I’ll be back. 

Val will be making sure you don’t starve or drink yourself into an early grave in my place. 

I just can’t do this anymore Thor. 

I had loved you since we were but children running around the palace gardens, I still do. However I accepted the fact that you could never see me as anything more than your old playmate and dear friend so long ago. 

I had tried to be by your side in a supporting role no matter how much it had hurt me. 

When you became an arrogant ass I tried my hardest to explain away your tantrums. 

When you came back from banishment I listened to you swoon over Lady Jane Foster with a smile on my face even though it tore me apart. 

I had stayed with you, took care of you. It took me so long to realize that I had just been enabling you this entire time. 

I had been supporting your self destructive behavior and I refuse to play that part any longer. I need to leave, not just for me but for you. 

You need to sort through your emotions, you need to learn how to handle yourself by yourself. You need me not holding your hand when you do that. 

I need to discover for myself what it means to be worthy-’

A loud pounding at your door disrupted your train of thought as you wrote. Normally no one would bother you, not unless it had to deal with Thor. 

The floorboards creaked as you made your way to your door. The pounding had not ceased until you flew the door open to reveal Thor. 

His hair was still damp from his shower and the sweats you had picked out were already stained from the beer he held in one hand. His sky blue eye was hidden behind dark shades. 

“(Y/n),” Thor said, “I need a thing.”

“Thor right now isn’t a good time.” 

“Don’t worry Lady (Y/n) it won’t take even a second I’ll be in and out.” Thor assured, flashing you a smile that could make your legs go weak. Despite how much hurt you were in you were still no match for Thor’s charms. 

“What thing do you need?”

“Just a thing I’ll know the name of it when I see it.” 

You stepped aside as you let Thor in, hoping that he won’t notice the lack of furniture or the note left on the table. You decided to let him be while you went and finished packing whatever was in the bathroom. After that you went back to the living area where you had left the note only to see Thor sitting on the couch, his fingers clenching the paper tightly. He had taken his shades off, the deep dark circles stood out against his skin a tribute to how tired he truly was. 

He looked up and you were taken aback by the sorrow that filled his eyes. red rimmed the blue eye as fresh tears began to fall. 

“You weren’t supposed to read that yet.” 

“And when was I supposed to read it then?! When you were god knows where you will be!” His voice bellowed as tears continued to fall down his cheek. 

“Thor please don’t yell.” 

“No (Y/n)!” he cut you off, “you,” his finger pointed at you, his gaze as intense as lightning, “you don’t get to leave like this. You don’t get to leave me too.”

“Thor I don’t have a choice,” you argue, “I need to let you go. I need to find who I am without you and you need-”

“DO NOT TELL ME WHAT I NEED!” 

You could hear thunder roaring in the distance outside, lightning danced around his fingers faintly. Thor had never scared you, but right now you were close to it. 

“Thor,” you say calmly hoping somehow your calm tone will calm the God of Thunder, “I’m sorry for choosing the cowards way, I wanted to avoid this.”

“Did you truly think you would be able to avoid me for long.” The lightning had yet to cease but his eyes seemed to stop glowing ever so slightly. 

“I didn’t think you would have noticed for at least a few days.” 

“Why would you think I wouldn’t notice immediately?” He asked like it was the most incredulous question. He took a step closer to you while you took a step back. Thunder still roared outside and lightning still curled around his fingers. Thor furrowed his eyes in confusion until he finally seemed to hear the thunder storm outside and realize he had scared you. 

Thor had scared you. 

Immediately the pain in his chest worsened with the guilt that he had scared you. That he had so little control over his powers when he was so emotional. Slowly he closed his eyes and he took a deep breath in and out. He then felt his powers subside and the thunder had stopped. 

You could see his shoulders hunch forward with shame and you instictivly placed a hand over his shoulder to comfort him. Thor was quick to envelop your hand with his. Holding onto your hand for dear life. 

Your eyes then met, closer than you had ever been before. 

“What thing were you looking for?” you asked softly, “you said you came over for a thing.”

“I lied,” Thor admitted softly, “I just didn’t want to be alone.” 

The next thing you knew was the faint taste of beer and blueberries on your lips and strong, calloused hands making their way to your shoulders. 

Thor was just as good a kisser as you imagined. Lips moving expertly over your own, moving against yours so desperately. Like a man dying of thirst. 

You knew you should push him off of you, but for one second you wanted to enjoy his lips on yours. Kissing you like you had always wanted to kiss him. 

You moved your lips against his, relishing every moment. Because you knew you wouldn’t be able to kiss him again. 

Only when Thor's hands traveled to your waist did you break away. Albeit, you couldn’t push him further than just enough to give you some breathing space. 

“Thor,’ you said, “you’re drunk you don’t want this.” 

‘When will you stop telling me what I want and don’t want.” His lips moved from your lips to the corner of your mouth and slowly made their way to your neck. 

“Thor I do not want this if your reasoning is impaired.”

“I appreciate the thought dear one, but I only had half a beer tonight.” 

Asgardians could handle their booze well, especially Thor. For Thor to be the least bit intoxicated he would have had to drink 3 large bottles of Asgardian booze. However, when it came to Midgard it took 4 large barrows of Midgardian beer for it to have the same effect on him. Thor mostly drank it for the taste.

“Unless you would rather I stop.” Thor said, before his hands had removed themselves from your waist you stopped them. 

With every ounce of passion in you, you grabbed a handful of his long hair and pressed your lips to his. 

It was a mess of passionate and needy kisses and moans. Thor’s battle-worn hands had roamed over your body in a desperate need to feel you. 

He was quick to rid you of your shirt, hands feeling every inch of naked skin as he could. Holding you like you were the only thing keeping him grounded to the earth. 

You moaned as his hands found your breasts, his large hands covering them over your bra. Your hands made quick work with your bra, removing the suffocating fabric before lifting Thor’s shirt. 

you felt him stiffen as you rid him of his shirt. 

He wasn’t as muscular as he had been 2 years ago, however it took more than 2 years to completely diminish what his body had been. Although his stomach had softened as well as his arms. You didn’t care in the slightest, loving Thor in every shape he came in. 

Your hands lovingly brushed over his torso as you began to leave open mouthed kisses down his neck, over his chest, it wasn’t until you were at the waistband on his sweatpants did he bring you back up and kissed you with fiery passion. 

Thor laid you in front of the fireplace that you forgot you lit a while ago. Honestly a little surprised that the fire was still going. 

You didn’t have much time to think about that as you felt Thor’s lips travel  from your neck and over your breasts. Your nails scratched the floor beneath you as you felt him at the waistband of your jeans. 

You felt Thor pause and you looked at him. 

“Are you sure dear one?” 

Your heart melted at the new nickname, as you nodded to him. However that wasn’t enough for the blonde adonis as he traveled up your body and littered your neck in open mouth kisses. 

“I need to hear you say you want this dear one.” 

“Please Thor,” you pleaded as he ground his hips into yours slowly, your hips meeting his as his pace slows even more successfully driving you insane. 

“I need you Thor.”

“What do you need dear one?”

“I need you to finish what we started.” 

With that Thor slammed his lips on yours as he rid you of your pants, underwear included. He leaned back and his eyes drank in your figure illuminated by the fire light. You were breathtaking, any one would buckle at the sight of you. 

Pride swelled in Thor’s heart as this view was reserved for him only. 

Just as you were about to say something you felt Thor’s beard tickle the inside of your thigh and without warning Thor dived in. 

Your hands immediately flew to his hair and grabbed fists full of it, anything to tether you to reality. 

As Thor worked his magic on your bundle of nerves your moans filled the empty house. Thor moaned as your grip on his hair tightened which sent waves of pleasure throughout your body. Thor lifted your legs over his shoulders and gripped your thighs firmly as his tongue worked faster. 

Just as you were about to reach your blissful release you felt him pull away. Your arousal practically dripped from his lips onto his beard. 

He rid himself of the last piece of clothing before capturing your lips once again. Unlike the kisses from before, this was gentle and sweet. You could taste yourself on his lips as he tenderly kissed you. 

You slowly ran your hands over his chest, committing him to memory. 

Thor pulled away from your lips as he entered you. 

Your mouth let out a silent scream of pleasure as Thor let out a shaky breath of pleasure. Thor waited for a few seconds, relishing in the feeling of you around him before finally moving his hips against yours. 

Thor was soft and slow in his thrusts, making sure to worship every part of you. His lips were everywhere, from your face to your breasts. 

You met in time with his thrusts. The only sound in the room being your shaky breaths, moans of pleasure, and skin on skin. And it sounded like a chorus to you. 

Thor’s thrusts became erratic and unyielding, the knot in your stomach was on the verge of bursting when Thor whispered in your ear. 

“Let go dear one, I’ll catch you.”

With that the knot had become undone, leaving your body shaking from the overwhelming pleasure. 

Thor had not been too far behind you before he too reached his climax. 

Thor laid down beside you, still coming down from his high. You laid your head on his chest and he instinctively wrapped his arms around you. 

This was everything you had ever wanted, to lay beside Thor with his arm beside you. Well almost everything. 

As Thor began to play with the ends of your head as you replayed the past two years in your head. 

“I think you may have been right.” Thor broke the silence, you lifted your head off his chest to see his gaze distant as he stared at the ceiling. 

“When have I ever been anything otherwise.”

Thor’s chest rumbled in laughter as unshed tears began to fill his eyes. He refused to cry, not now. 

“I agree that you need to leave dear one.” Thor’s voice cracked, “I have become a pitiful king to my people, but I have been an even worse friend to you.” his eyes left their place on the ceiling and rested on your face. “You have been faithfully by my side ever since either of us could remember. You had defended me when I didn’t deserve it and loved me when no one did. Not even myself.” His calloused hand caressed your cheek, thumb brushing the tears that had escaped your eyes away. “you don’t deserve to drown in my despair with me. You deserve a life of adventure and you deserve the time to figure out who you are.” You pressed your forehead to his as tears leaked out. “I need to let you go.”

---

Thor had spent the night committing every touch and every scent to memory. He had no idea when his feelings for you grew to such lengths but he knew now that he had figured it out much too late. 

He wasn’t the man you deserved by your side. 

Thor waved you off at the airport and watched as the metal contraption took you away from his side for the first time since his banishment all those years ago. 

He hoped that if you returned he would be a man worthy of you again. 

Thor only wished he knew where to start.

[bigballofstress]

Pickpocket Part 2(Avengers x Child!Reader)

Description: After Clint takes you back to Avengers tower, the rest of the Avengers realize who you are, and most of them are not very happy with you.  It’s certainly an interesting conversation when you wake up, but slowly, they start to warm up to you.

Tell me if you want a third part, guys!  Part one here

To @prepareforsomestrangethings @captainam-erika-trash @bxtchboy69​ @creation-magician​ @viarogers​ @queenshadow142003​ @witchxaf I know I’ve said this already, but seriously, I can’t thank you guys enough for everything.  I love you all!

The living room went completely silent at the arrival of the two master assassins, everyone staring at the little bundle in their resident archer’s arms.

“Lady Natasha, Brother Clint, you have returned!” Thor, who had just returned to Earth from Asgard, shouted gleefully as he walked towards them, completely oblivious to the awkward atmosphere that had appeared in the room and asking the question that was on everybody’s minds but which they weren’t quite sure how to go about asking.  “Who is the young maiden in your arms?”

“She tried to rob Clint and then fainted, so we brought her back here,” Natasha stated bluntly.  Clint glared at her in frustration before turning back to the others, who were already on guard.

“The kid was starving,” he attempted to explain.  “I think she passed out from hunger.”  The others in the room glanced at the bundle of coats, still obviously wary, and Clint rolled his eyes.  “For God’s sake, the poor thing weighs next to nothing, and she’s freezing to the touch.  I’m pretty sure the coat is heavier than she is.”

“Lay her down on the coach.  I’ll grab some blankets,” Steve finally piped up.  Clint sighed in relief and brought her over to the very long couch where he gently set her down, resting her head on one of the throw pillows.  He brushed a few strands of hair out of her face, frowning when she still felt colder than a block of ice.

“Let me take a look at her,” Bruce offered.  Clint nodded in thanks and stepped back.  Bruce paused, his eyes wide.

“What’s wrong?” Clint asked, his stomach turning in worry.  Was he too late?  Was she already gone?

“That’s the girl from the library.”  Everyone froze at the words that fell out of Bruce’s mouth.

“No frickin’ way, let me see,” Tony rushed forward, peering over the back of the couch.  “Oh my god, she’s the kid who took my watch!  It really was the same girl!”

“And the one who stole my money,” Steve added, setting the pile of blankets down next to her before moving to start a fire in the nearby fireplace.

“Well, I guess that solves that mystery,” Tony crossed his arms.  “She couldn’t have been actually starving.  There’s no way that watch sells for anything under 2,000.  She lied to you so you wouldn’t turn her in.”

Clint shook his head.  “No, that doesn’t make any sense.  She’d already gotten away when she fainted.”

Tony rolled his eyes.  “Alright, so then she stashed it to sell later so she wouldn’t be caught.”

“If you had a 2,000 dollar watch lying around, why would you ever wear a ratty old coat that obviously doesn’t even keep the cold out?”  Natasha commented thoughtfully, gesturing at the flimsy piece of clothing.

That seemed to knock Bruce from his thoughts.  “She’s soaking wet, we need to get her out of these clothes.  Nat, do you have anything she could wear?”  Natasha nodded and silently left the room to fetch the clothing as Bruce started to peel off the soaked-through layers one by one until she was left in just a t-shirt and sweatpants, both littered with holes and tears and both obviously far too short for her but still loose against her skeletal frame.  Natasha took the job from there, exchanging the old clothing for a pair sweats, which despite being a size small, seemed to drown the girl in fabric before covering her in the blankets and moving her closer to the fire.  

After that, everyone settle down around the living room, each of them seeming to understand the unspoken agreement that they would wait to decide what on what they would do next until after she woke up.  So, that’s how they stayed for the next 2 hours.

-- Your POV --

I slowly cracked my eyes open, the light flooding in and immediately giving me a headache.  Huh, I guess I didn’t die.  That’s a good thing, right?

I brought a hand to my forehead as I slowly sat up, my eyes shut tight as I did my best not to throw up.  God, I was so hungry.  At least I wasn’t cold anymore, though.  Maybe it’s just that I’ve gone completely numb... or crazy, because instead of just not being cold, I actually feel pretty warm.

I opened my eyes again and stared down at the blanket covering me and the couch I was sitting on.  Oh geez that can’t be good.  I looked back up and around, doing my best to stay completely silent as my eyes flickered from one person to the next.

The man I had robbed only just a few hours ago sat in a chair right in front of the couch, snoring softly with his head lolled back.  At a table nearby, typing away on a computer, was the man from the library who only had 4 dollars in his wallet.  Sitting at the same table was a very big, very muscular man with long blonde hair who I’d never seen before, but judging by the massive hammer that was placed beside him, I doubted he was good news.  Standing at the kitchen sink was the man who’d stopped me from falling when I was taking his wallet.  Sitting behind a bar, nursing a glass of what looked to be scotch, was Tony freaking Stark, who I had only just stolen a very, very expensive watch from.  Finally, standing by the doorway and leaning against the wall was the red-headed woman who found me out and chased me down with her boyfriend.  And she was making direct eye-contact with me.

“She’s up,” she called, shocking everyone in the room -- especially the man in the chair, who must have jumped about a foot in the air as he was startled awake.  I clenched my jaw and frowned.  What is it with this chick and always ratting me out?

Before you could say the word ‘Assemble,’ all six people in the room had gathered around me.  My heart beat wildly in my chest as I stared from one person to the next.  Why were all the people I robbed together in one place?  Did Tony Stark bring them all together so they could get revenge on me?  How did they even find me?  Is that blonde one a bounty hunter or something?  He certainly had the build for it.

“How are you feeling?”  The man from earlier asked me gently.  I frowned and stared back at him.  No way was I going to talk to these people.  I have the right to remain silent, right?  Or is that not a thing with elaborate revenge plots?

The library man stepped forward and placed a hand on my forehead.  Immediately, I flinched away.  “Her fever’s gone down,” he said, stepping back into place, the slight anger he still held towards me clear in his voice.

I glanced around the room, weighing my options.  I had no idea where I was, no idea how to get out of here, and I don’t think I could outrun the redhead and her boyfriend again on solid ground, especially when I can still barely move without another wave of dizziness hitting me.  So, in other words, I’d have to somehow convince them to let me go.

Ok, yeah, I’m definitely gonna die.

“Do you have a name?”  Reflexes guy asked, and my frown deepened.  Maybe I could pretend to have lost my memory.  Library guy said something about a fever, right?  If it was bad enough, it could’ve messed with my brain.  Plus, they have no way of knowing how long I had it.  Alright, that’s my game plan for now.  A pitiful, helpless amnesiac.

Slowly, I shook my head, bringing my knees to my chest as I stared at him with wide eyes.

“How about an age?  Do you know how old you are?”  This time, it was the boyfriend who spoke.  I liked him way better.  He had a kind voice, and he didn’t really seem to be holding too big a grudge against me.  He was probably dragged to this weird revenge party by the redhead.

I shook my head again, allowing my body to shake ever so slightly, tears gathering in my eyes.

“Alright, cut the crap, kid.  Tell me where my watch is,” Stark took a few steps forward.  My eyes went wide, and I scrambled backwards in an attempt to get away from him, my heart going a mile a minute as my breathing got faster and faster.

“Quit it, Stark, you’re scaring her,” the boyfriend snapped.  Stark huffed and rolled his eyes, moving back to his place in the semi-circle with his arms crossed.  Yeah, I definitely like the boyfriend best.

“Do you remember nothing, child?” Blondie boomed.  I flinched at the volume, hiding my face in my arms and sobbing quietly.

It was quiet for a little bit, and I smiled.  They must’ve felt guilty, which meant they believed me.  Maybe I could pull this off after all.

“Alright, kid, that’s enough.  Stop messing with them.”

“What?  Nat, what are you--”

“Seriously, you’ve had your fun, now stop it with the crocodile tears and tell us your name.”  I slowly peaked up to find the redhead -- Nat, apparently -- smirking back down at me, her right hip jutted out as she rested her weight on it and her arms crossed.  She merely lifted an eyebrow at me, her smirk widening ever so slightly.

I sighed and lifted my head.  “How did you know?” I asked softly.  The men in the room gaped at me in surprise, while she only chuckled a bit.

“I lie all the time, kid, it’s part of my job.  I know another good liar when I see one,” she answered with a slight shrug of her shoulders.  “Now are you gonna tell us your name or not?”

I frowned and hugged my knees tighter.  “It wasn’t all a lie.  I really was scared,” I muttered, staring down at my lap.  “It’s not exactly fun to wake up in a place you don’t know and immediately have people coming at you or yelling really, really loud.”

Stark glanced away guiltily while Blondie just sent me a wide, toothy grin.  “My apologies, child.  I have yet to truly understand this ‘indoor voice’ that you mortals are so fascinated by!”  I flinched slightly at the still very loud voice, but at least it wasn’t quite as loud as before.

“Name, kid,” Nat stated simply, immediately seeing through my attempt at changing the subject to try and make them feel guilty again.

I sighed.  “My name is (Y/N),” I finally muttered.

“Have you got a last name, (Y/N)?” Reflexes asked again.

“Not any that concerns you,” I immediately snapped back defensively.

Reflexes frowned and rubbed his face a bit.  “Fine, we’ll go back to that later.  How old are you?”

“18,” the lie came quickly and easily.  I had said it so many times that by that point, it was starting to feel more natural than the truth.

“Try again,” Nat said.

I grit my teeth and glared at her.  “You really need to stop ratting me out.”  She just smirked and shrugged again.  “Fine.  I’m 12.”

Silence as five pairs of shocked eyes turned to Nat for confirmation.  Slowly, she nodded, almost seeming a little shocked herself.  My words took a minute to settle in, and I frowned, staring back down at my lap.  At least now they probably couldn’t kill me.  Although, I’d probably prefer that to going back to that hellhole of a foster home.

“Nope, sorry, I call bs,” Stark was the one to break the silence.  “No chance a twelve-year-old reads nuclear physics, and more importantly, there’s not a single chance a twelve-year-old outsmarts me.”

“Yeah, that’s what every grown-up says,” I rolled my eyes.  “The fact is, you got completely fooled by a twelve-year-old kid, and you need to learn how to deal with it.”

“Alright, so where’s my watch?” Stark grit his teeth, fuming in annoyance at my attitude.

I rolled my eyes again.  “I sold it,” I answered simply.

“Ok, so why did you lie to Clint?  That watch was expensive.  There’s no way you would be starving only a month after you sold it,” Stark smirked triumphantly, as though he had just unearthed some massive conspiracy.

“I didn’t keep the money.”

“...I’m sorry, what?” Stark asked.

“I said, I didn’t keep the money,” I repeated.

“Then where the hell did it go?” he frowned.  He obviously didn’t believe me.

“Language, Stark,” Reflexes cut in.  “She’s just a kid.”

“Please, I’ve heard the word ‘hell’ before.  What street did you think I was living on, Candycane Lane?”  I scoffed before suddenly realizing my mistake.

“You live on the streets?” Library guy asked softly, looking more and more guilty with every passing minute.

“Of course not,” I responded quickly, trying to backpedal on what I’d accidentally let slip.  “I just hate my parents so much it feels like it.  I only steal so that I can rebel against them.”

“That lie was just bad,” Nat shook her head almost in disappointment.

“(Y/N), what happened to the money from Stark’s watch?” the boyfriend -- What did Stark say his name was?  Clint? -- spoke calmly and gently.

“I used it to buy toys and canned foods,” I answered rather quickly.  He was nice.  I felt comfortable around him.

“You were starving, and you bought toys?” Stark scoffed.

“Not for me, dipshit,” I rolled my eyes again.  I feel like I do that every time Stark opens his mouth.

“Language!” Reflexes gasped.

“Why did you buy toys?”  Clint continued to speak gently, taking my attention away from my annoyance at Stark.

I frowned.  “I bought them for the kids at the orphanage.”  Clint just nodded, encouraging me to continue.  “Every year I scrape together what money I don’t use on food to buy them toys, but they usually end up being really crummy ones that they all have to share.  This year, I was finally able to buy them all really good ones.”  I paused for a moment before adding, “Christmas can be really sad there, and there never used to be any toys.  I don’t want the other kids to have a sad Christmas anymore.”

“You used to live in an orphanage?” Clint asked.  I winced at the question, digging my nails into my palms.  I didn’t mean to tell them that.  I sighed in defeat and nodded slightly, avoiding their eyes.

“My mommy died when I was one, and my daddy didn’t want me anymore,” I paused a moment, trying and failing to swallow the lump in my throat.  Quickly, I moved myself as far away from the topic as possible.  “I used the money I didn’t spend on toys to buy groceries for the homeless shelter.  They need it more than I do anyways.”

There was another heavy pause before Clint spoke again.  “How long has it been since you’ve eaten anything?”

“Counting today?” They all nodded.  “About five days.”

Reflexes immediately walked away, and I ducked my head further.  He was probably going to call the cops or maybe the orphanage.  Either way I’d have to go back.

“(Y/N)?” Library guy’s voice brought me back to reality.

My cheeks were wet.  I was crying.  I didn’t mean to do that -- it doesn’t work on Nat, so why even bother?  Still, I couldn’t stop.  “A-are you g-gonna send m-me b-back n-now?” I whispered, my voice thick as I gasped between every other word.  I squeezed my knees tight to my chest and let out a sob that I was trying desperately to hold back.  “P-please... I don’t... I don’t wanna go back!” I broke down sobbing, my face buried in my arms and my breaths coming shorter and shorter as my heart pounded frantically against my ribs.

I couldn’t breathe.

I felt like I was under water, each breath coming in harsher and more labored than the last, the air growing thicker by the second as I struggled to take it in.  I could hardly feel the tears on my cheeks as my brain begged me to take a solid breath, screaming at me that I was dying -- that I needed to stop this right now, or I would die, which of course only made me panic even more.

I felt a pair of arms gently wrap around me and slowly looked up, hiccupping softly, my entire body shaking like a leaf.  I stared at Tony Stark from where he sat beside me.  “Calm down, purse snatcher, no one’s sending you anywhere,” he said, rubbing my back comfortingly.  “I need you to focus on me.  Try and match my breaths, ok?”

“P-promise me you’re not lying,” I mumbled from my still mostly curled up position.  “Promise I won’t have to go back.”

“I promise I will never lie to you,” he responded immediately.  I sniffled, my bottom lip trembling as I stared at him, searching for any signs of a lie.  When I found none, I launched forward into his lap and buried my face in his chest, sobbing pathetically.  “Easy, kid.  You’re ok.  In and out, just like me, ok?  In... and out,”  Tony soothed, gently patting my back as I cried.  His arms were warm.  It was surprising, but still, it was really, really nice.  Slowly, I came back down to reality, each breath shaking violently but still managing to keep time with his.  Finally, after a few minutes, I’d managed to calm myself down.

A very large hand landed on my shoulder, and I looked over, my body still shaking a bit as I clung to Tony like a lifeline.  Reflexes was standing there, holding a plate full of steaming hot pizza.

“You need to eat,” he said, moving the plate closer to me.  I nodded and took it, my hands still shaking slightly.

“Thank you, Reflexes,” I said softly.

“Reflexes?” he tilted his head a bit.

“O-oh, um... When I met you, you managed to catch me after I bumped into you, even though I was trying to fall, so I’ve kind of been calling you Reflexes in my head ever since...” I muttered, my face getting red.

Reflexes stared at me for a moment.  I could feel Tony laughing behind me as the others struggled not to laugh out loud.  “You can just call me Steve,” he sighed.

“That’s right, you don’t know our names yet, do you?” Tony grinned.  I turned to look at him, only just then realizing that I was still sitting on his lap.  

I blushed harder and scooted off his lap, muttering a quick, “Sorry.”

Tony smiled back in reassurance, although he looked a little... disappointed?  No, wait, that’s stupid.  Of course he wasn’t disappointed; he’s Tony Stark.  That look was probably just the leftover annoyance at having some dumb kid crying in his lap.  “Don’t mention it, kid, but you gotta tell me what you’ve been calling the rest of us in that little head of yours.”

“U-um... well, I called Steve ‘Reflexes,’ and, um, Nat was ‘Redhead’.  Clint was ‘Boyfriend’...” Clint choked on thin air, and Tony bursted out laughing again, not even making an attempt to hide it this time.

“W-why ‘Boyfriend’?!” Clint yelped.

“Because you were on a date with your girlfriend, um, Nat, when we met?”  I said it almost like a question.  Was there something wrong with that?

“She’s not my girlfriend, kid,” Clint sighed, shaking his head.  He didn’t seem quite as bothered anymore, though.  Was there really something wrong with me calling him ‘Boyfriend’?

“Ok, now tell me the rest,” Tony said excitedly, leaning forward.

I leaned back a bit but nodded.  “Ok, well the guy with the glasses--”

“Call me Bruce,” he interrupted.

“Um, Bruce then.  He was ‘Library Guy.’”

“Oh, that’s right, you recommended he read his own paper,” Tony grinned.

“Yeah exactly,”  I smiled softly before, slowly, my smile dropped and my eyes grew about 3 sizes.  “Wait, you don’t mean...” I turned to face Bruce in disbelief.  “You aren’t that Bruce.  As in, Bruce Banner?  The nuclear physicist?”

Bruce chuckled a bit and rubbed the nape of his neck.  “Yeah, that’s me.  Nice to meet you.”

I gaped, my mouth opening and closing like a fish.  “I’m such a big fan,” I whispered softly.

“Wait, so you mean you actually understood those papers?  That wasn’t just another lie?” Bruce frowned slightly.

“I would never lie about that,” I shook my head frantically.  “Your work is absolutely incredible.  I used to get lashed all the time cause I’d stay up all night reading your papers.”

A flash of pity crossed his face.  I frowned and cleared my throat.  “I, um, I always really like learning new things,” I muttered awkwardly.  “When I was little, I would spend hours in that library every day.  My caretaker didn’t believe I actually understood it, either.  She even got me tested to prove I was lying.”

“And?” Tony prompted.

“Turns out I have an IQ of about 278,” I shrugged.  Tony’s jaw dropped, staring at me with eyes wide as saucers.

“Isn’t yours 273?” Bruce asked, trying to hide the chuckle threatening to seep through his voice.

“I-I... Well... Just tell us the rest of the nicknames, would ya, kid?” Tony stuttered, avoiding Bruce’s eyes.

“Oh, um, sure,” I smiled a bit.  It felt like my chest filled up a bit, a soft warmth spreading through my heart.  They looked like a family.  It must be so nice.  “The super buff blonde guy--”

“Thor,” Tony provided.

I blinked in shock at that.  “Wow, your parents must’ve been real confident to name you after one of the Norse gods,” I muttered.  “Well, Thor’s name was just ‘Blondie.’”

Tony snickered at my comment, and I frowned.  Were these nicknames really funny?  I didn’t think they were.

“Child, I was not named after anyone.  I am Thor of Asgard.  It is a pleasure to meet you,” he smiled, taking a knee before me.  I lifted an eyebrow and leaned over to Tony.

“Is he crazy..?” I asked softly.

Tony chuckled.  “No, he’s not.  Haven’t you ever heard of the Avengers?”  I shook my head.  “Woah, seriously?  Ok, well, long story short, he is the actual Norse god, Thor, and he lives on the planet Asgard.”

I looked at him curiously before nodding.  “Alright.”

“Seriously?  You believe me just like that?” Tony asked, a small, if slightly confused, smile on his face.

“You promised me you’d never lie to me,” I answered simply.  “Of course I believe you.”  

Tony opened his mouth and closed it again, a look I’d never seen decorating his features.  I shook my head just a bit to clear it and grabbed the piece of pizza on top before immediately shoving it in my face, managing to scarf it down in under 10 seconds before moving onto the next.  The six adults stared at me as I finished piece after piece until the plate was empty only 2 minutes later.  I glanced up and smiled slightly.  “Thank you for the food,” I mumbled through the last mouthful of pizza.

“Wow, ok, I’m not gonna lie, kid, that was pretty impressive,” Tony chuckled.  “I don’t even think bird brain over here could eat that fast.”

“How do you keep people from stealing your food, then?” I asked, tilting my head slightly to the side.  The room fell silent again, the adults sending me worried glances.  I frowned and ducked my head again, trying to avoid their searing gazes.  I must’ve said something wrong again.

“Honestly, we don’t.  How do you think Thor got so big?” Tony grinned, clearly just trying to diffuse the tension.  I smiled up at him gratefully.  

“Alright, I think that’s enough excitement for today,” Tony said, standing up.  “Sorry, kid, but it’s way past your bedtime.”  I tensed up a bit at the sudden movement, and he sent me a reassuring smile.  “Don’t worry, I’m just taking you to a guest room.”

I nodded and took his hand, standing up slowly.  I held the loose clothing tightly so that it didn’t drop, trying to ignore the many worried eyes that looked over my still ever so slightly shaking, thin figure that couldn’t even hold up the small pair of sweatpants.  I followed him down one of the many hallways of the tower, gripping his hand as tightly as I could.  

Finally, we reached a large room, a neatly made bed stationed in the middle of it.  I tried to climb into the bed, but Tony ended up having to boost me up, his hands lifting me gently by my underarms so that I could get on top of the unreasonably tall mattress before tucking me in under the thick blankets.

He took a step back, and my heart immediately leapt into my throat, my hand darting out to grab his wrist.  “It’s ok, I’m just turning out the lights,” he answered the question without me even having to ask.  As soon as he had flicked the switch off, he came back and sat down in a large chair by the bed.  It was silent for a moment, and I stared up at the dark ceiling, thinking over everything that happened in the past few hours.  It didn’t make any sense.  Why would he do all of this?  What did he have to gain from giving me food and a place to sleep?

“Why are you being so nice to me?” I heard my own voice rise up through the darkness.  I’m not quite sure why I asked that.  Still, I wanted nothing more than to hear the answer.

“You remind me of myself,” Tony said slowly, the careful thoughtfulness clear in his voice.  “You’re a good kid.  You deserve a little bit of help.”

It was silent for another few minutes.

“Would you... would you please hold me hand?” I asked softly.  I’d barely even finished speaking before my right hand was engulfed my another, much larger one.  I could feel myself smile just a bit, my eyes fluttering closed.  I squeezed it slightly, and before long, I had fallen asleep to the sound of Tony’s breathing.

[draconic-ichor]

In the Steel Steeds Heart

Chapter 23: Desperate Passions

Warnings: strong language, sexual themes, oral sex, penetrative sex, nipple play, nipple piercings, scars/stitches, fingering

Summary: Juniper is fully healed and ready to get back to one of their favorite hobbies!

Feedback appreciated. 18+. This is a smut heavy chapter

“What are we having tonight, love?” Heisenberg asked, sitting back in the wooden chair. He had returned from working to find her over the stove, a simmering pot filling the apartment with a delicate fragrance.

“Pilaf.” She answered sweetly.

“Ah…alright.” Heisenberg nodded, her answer not making anything more clear to him.

He cut open a cigar, lighting it and bringing it to his lips as he watched her.

She pulled two deep plates out of the cabinet, looking towards him, “Get anything exciting made today?”

He made a prideful rumble, speaking through the cigar, “Mhm. The Soldat Zwei is almost finished. Give the bastard one, maybe two, good days of work and he should be up.”

“They are the ones with two drills right?”

“Correct. Moved the reactor core to the back as well.”

“When are you starting the….the Pan..pan?” She couldn’t find the words, placing a glass of water and silverware on the table.

“The Panzer?”

“Yea that one! They looked big.”

“Oh, sweetheart, it will be.” He gave a devilish smile, “Gotta wait till I get a bastard built like a shit brick house for that one.”

“Like Sturm?” She scooped food into the deep plates.

“Unfortunately…yes.” He frowned, that creature still brought him nothing but grief.

Juniper placed a plate before him, before taking a seat with her own.

Fuck me…what is this?

Heisenberg gulped looking at the meal. It was a pile of rice with chicken, carrots, mushrooms and herbs mixed in. It smelled normal and appetizing but left much to be desired to the eyes.

Juniper took a bite, looking at him through narrow eyes.

“Love, did you make bread as well?” He asked hopefully.

“No, there’s rice in here.” She pointed her fork at him, “And vegetables. Eat it.”

He made a little grumble, tucking into his food. It tasted good, the rice made with the broth from the chicken and the herbs giving it a homely taste.

…Thank god.

Heisenberg thought, mercifully, as he started eating with more gusto. Juniper loved to cook, and loved seeing him eat what she made even more. But her passion for the craft was almost matched with her desire to strive to make each meal healthy. Even if it meant throwing in things that tasted like death to pack more nutrients into every meal.

Heisenberg didn’t know if it was her trying to curb his lack of anything healthy or some Devine  force punishing him for his terrible daily diet for decades. In any case, it was a small price to pay for her happiness.

He finished his plate, even going back for a second. On the way back to his seat he paused, giving Juniper a soft pat on top of her head with his free hand. She beamed up at him.

They spoke more of his upcoming Soldat plans over dinner. Heisenberg explained how the Panzers should be immune to most types of damage, save for heavier explosions. They would be risky to produce and time consuming but a good last line of defense.

“Will all the armor put stress on the core?” Juniper asked.

He nodded, “I’ll have to use the bigger exhaust port like on Sturm but take in the energy production per energy draw to the multiple drills.”

“So they don’t overheat?”

“Precisely. I don’t want them spitting fire like the big boy.” Heisenberg pointed out.

After Juniper cleaned up the mess from dinner, Heisenberg ushered her into the bathroom. She followed him, used to this routine, she pulled her dress off and sat on the sink. Heisenberg leaned  on his palms against the counter on either side of her, dipping in to give her a kiss. She deepened the contact, hands finding the sleeves of his button up shirt.

He gave a happy little rumble, pulling away enough to inspect her incision. She sat still, waiting as he looked her over with a critical eye. The infection was completely gone, the tissue a healthy healing pink.

“I can probably remove the stitches, if you’d like.” He concluded.

“Please.” She almost begged, “They itch.”

He stood, chuckling, “Itching is good, means it’s healing.”

He retrieved a sharp pair of scissors, pouring a bit of peroxide over the blades before kneeling before her once more. With careful cuts he snipped through the stitches, pulling them free with deft fingers.

He tossed them away one by one into the trash can. Juniper watched him with big eyes.

“Will it scar?” Juniper asked quietly.

“Afraid so, Darling.” Heisenberg frowned.

Her eyes looked glassy, glancing over the pinkish new tissue.

Heisenberg took her face in his hands, lifting her chin up to meet his gaze. She wilted a bit.

"What's up?" He asked, concern in his gaze.

"Hmm…" She almost didn't answer, looking away, "I don’t want you to think I’m ugly…I have really bad scars…”

“Are you fucking serious.” Heisenberg’s lips were a fine line, “Look at me.”

She met his eyes, him correcting her, “No look at all of me. Look at all the shit my body has been through.”

Her eyes wavered, scanning him over. He was covered in scars, his skin was a patchwork of pearlescent lattice, even his face sporting a few.

“I am a scarred, fucked up old man.” He said plainly, “You are so fucking beautiful. A few scars can’t change that.”

Her eyes watered, cheeks growing rosey.

His face split with a grin, “Have I ever hesitated to bend your ass over every flat surface in this factory?”

 “…no.” She mumbled.

“Don’t  you even start to think I don’t find you sexy as all hell, ok love?”

“Mmmm.”

“What?”

“You haven’t bent me over anything in months.” Juniper pouted in his hands.

Heisenberg looked at her a moment before throwing back his head and barking out with laughter.

“You were healing!” He bared his teeth playfully, “But you’re all fixed up now, how about I show you how much you drive me fucking wild?”

Juniper smiled, nuzzling into his cupped hands, “Please, master?”

“Oh Honey.” He almost purred, “Keep that up and you’ll be bedridden again.”

They made their way back to the bedroom, Heisenberg catching her up in a messy kiss. While she was distracted he removed the rest of her clothing, backing her up until her calves touched the bed.

He lightly pushed her back, Juniper making a little ‘oof’ as she hit the bed. She propped herself up on her elbows, smiling as Heisenberg fell to his knees before her.

He didn’t dive straight into her heat like she expected, instead pulling her by the ankles closer to the edge.

His eyes were dark and hungry as he dipped his head in to drop rough kisses up the length of her leg. Juniper shivered at the heat of his mouth as he trailed ever closer to the place she wanted him desperately.

His lips lingered on the softness of her inner thigh, sucking a dark blotch there. He pulled free with a wet pop, meeting her gaze. She was already flushed.

“I’m going to have to re-mark my claim on you.” He almost purred the words.

“Make me yours in every way.” She spoke sweetly.

“I plan to.” He promised, kissing upwards.

He dropped a kiss just above her clit, smiling when her breath hitched. She made a little sound of want when he pulled away, thrusting her hips up in an effort to urge him back. Heisenberg growled as his large hands found her legs, pushing her down against the bed.

Juniper whimpered, watching him move higher.

He kissed along her scar, eyes flicking up to meet hers. The new tissue was sensitive under his lips, his beard making her skin prickle.

“Fucking perfect.” He concluded when he covered its length, his hands forcing her thighs more apart, “Every part.”

“…stop.” Juniper’s cheeks reddened further.

“Oh no.” He gave a devilish smile, “No mercy for you my little wifey.”

She gave a little mewl at his tone, her core clenching air.

“I was looking forward to dessert all night.” His face split with a mirthful grin.

“Then come get it!” She bared her teeth a bit playfully

Heisenberg dove into her sex, eating her like a starving man. He was messy and forceful, causing her to melt in seconds. He growled into her flesh, already feeling her tighten under him. He pulled away, scoring his thumb over her clit as he licked slick from his lips, “Already such a damn mess for me.”

“It’s…it’s been a w-while.” She spoke between pants.

 “Too long.” He agreed, going back in.

He made sure to pull multiple orgasms from her with only his mouth and hands, stopping every so often to trail kisses up her abdomen. She was breathy and blissed out, completely forgetting her earlier self-consciousness.

He stood, giving her a moment of mercy. Juniper watched him, breasts quaking as she regained her breath. Her skin was already glistening with a light sheen of sweat, stray onyx curls stuck to her forehead. Heisenberg slowly removed each layer of clothing, almost making a show of it under her hungry gaze.

Finally kicking off his boxers he crawled onto the bed. The bed creaked under their combined weight as he loomed over her.

Juniper eager hands found him quickly, squeezing the thick ropes of muscle that made his arms.

“Pretty impressive eh?” He smirked cockily.

Her fingers slid upwards, fanning over his chest. She gave him a little devilish look as she found his only nipple piercing.

His breath hitched a bit as she toyed with it; coming almost unglued entirely when her head quickly dipped in to take the metal into her mouth.

The movement was almost too fast for him to react before the sensation rippled through his body. Juniper was spurred on when she saw how his body shivered in response, deepening the contact.

Heisenberg pushed her away, holding her down against the bed with strong hands. He swallowed, “That’s enough of that.”

Juniper licked her lips, the taste of metal and skin on her tongue, “Seemed to like it.”

He ground his teeth a bit, aware of his hard cock. He caught her lips up with his own before she could continue.

He kept her occupied, grouping down her body as he lined himself up. She gasped into his mouth when she felt the weeping tip bump her folds. He pulled away to brace himself over her.

“Fuck, I missed you.” His voice was low and almost wavering as he pushed into her. Juniper’s back arched, moaning as his cock stretched her out deliciously.

Her core was tight from the months without him.

He started pumping into her almost desperately, lifting her legs to hook around his waist. With the better angle he was able to reach deeper, rubbing against her g-spot with every thrust.

She clawed down his back, crying out every time their hips sloppily met together.

The sex was messy and raw, both needing to feel the release of pent up passions. Heisenberg groaned out breathily, hands finding purchase in the mattress to buck into her harder.

He felt her tense under him. “F-Fuck! Come for me Doll. Come on my cock!” He grunted out, moving a hand to her clit. His thumb scored quick circles into the sensitive bundle of nerves.

Juniper buckled under him, sobbing out her release. A surge of slick coated his cock as her cunt clamped down on him.

She felt divine, like liquid velvet around him. Heisenberg became a mess of sounds himself, balls slapping into her ass roughly as he chased his own release.

His hips jolted, bottoming out in her. She felt him pulse as her insides were flooded with hot ropes of come.

She felt extremely full, bits of his release oozing out around his cock.

He settled over her, wanting to stay slotted within her walls. Catching her breath she pulled his face closer, peppering his jaw with kisses.

He gave a little rumble of amusement, letting her fawn over him.

~

They tangled into one another, the darkness filled with the sounds of their heavy breathes and soft moans. A hunger of the flesh deep in their minds. Words weren’t needed. Their touches, tinged with desperation for an act both had feared would be lost to them, was everything in that moment.

Skin to skin, a heartbeat felt under fingertips. The world outside the bed didn’t exist, the nightmares couldn’t reach them.

Heisenberg pressed his body against Juniper’s, his cock never leaving her. In the soft lulls between rounds of sex he held her close, wanting to feel over every inch of her. She thankfully held onto him, losing track of the hours. He nipped into the soft flesh of her throat, huffing out hotly when he heard her mewl.

He felt her tense under him as he rocked into her afresh. Juniper didn’t know how many rounds or orgasms they shared, the night becoming a blur of pleasure and overstimulation.

Eventually exhaustion overtook her and Juniper fell asleep against his chest. Heisenberg stayed fully inserted inside of her, softly tracing her spinal scar. Their bodies were stuck together with sweat, he could feel every breath and heartbeat of hers.

He let his mind wander to work. With the spring thaw here it would make collecting bodies from the grave easier, but also he would have to be much more on top of watching the village for casualties.

Juniper was his favorite distraction but she was a distraction nonetheless. He wouldn’t force her away, no, she gave him more purpose to strive to escape. She made his hunger to explore the world deeper, he wanted to give her a better life than the factory.

And he would give it to her.

[olivia-anderson-fanfic]

A Miraculous TikTok Account

Part 1/57, 97.7k words

Next

I was like “hey brain I’d love to do a shitpost social media au” and then it was like r e w r i t e m i r a c u l o u s

I don’t even know if it really even counts as miraculous anymore so much has changed god damn it --

Rena Rouge had never been so excited for anything in her life.

Of course, at first glance people would find that insane. She was going to a meeting, after all.

But it was the people that were also attending that had her practically vibrating she was so excited.

All the heroes of Paris were to be gathered under Master Fu’s orders. They hardly ever worked together, so having all four (five, including her, she reminded herself) together was pretty much a once-in-a-lifetime event. She wished she was still a reporter, this was the kind of thing she would have killed to report on back in the day…

Still, a part of her had to wonder why exactly they were all there. Master Fu had been vague when he’d called. She had some theories, of course, but all this waiting was starting to shift her excitement into nerves. She attempted to smooth out her tail, but ended up just tucking it under herself to hide her anxiety. Maybe she shouldn’t have come so early.

The first person to show up after her was Carapace. He’d poked his head through the door, the hood of his sleeveless hoodie pulled so low over his face that it partially hid his face. Then he broke into a wide smile and pushed the hood up a little to show the green glint of his mask. He made his way inside and took a seat next to her.

“Salu -- Bonjour!” His confident smile melted into an uncomfortable one. “Sorry ‘bout that.”

“Salut,” she said, not wanting him to feel awkward.

Besides, that was kind of his whole shtick. Carapace was the relatable hero, the one you could vent about your problems to.

(Well, technically you could vent to all of Paris’s heroes, they didn’t mind… but Carapace was the only one that felt close enough to actually try it with.)

Silence lapsed between them as they sat there. She tried to remember whether she had met him as Rena Rouge or not and he seemed unsure whether she wanted to talk, but they were distracted from their thoughts when Chloe walked into the room.

Chloe just kind of… does that. If Carapace was the personable one, Chloe was the one who felt the most unreachable. She was open about her persona, had to be after everyone found out about it, and exactly how relatable can a mayor’s daughter be? She’d leaned into it, though, opting for golden jewelry and wings that glinted in the light.

Neither of the present heroes said anything to Chloe, and Chloe didn’t acknowledge them.

Was it rude? Technically. But what else were they supposed to do? Chloe had made it clear a week ago that she didn’t like them. There’s no good conversation that can come after you get shit-talked on live tv.

The last person to be on time was Chat Noir. The original hero. He gave them a smile worthy of a model as he slipped inside. “Bonjour.”

“Bonjour,” said Rena and Carapace, and even Chloe gave a quiet hum of acknowledgement.

The leather of his black suit made a high-pitched squeaking sound against the chair when he sat down that made both him and Rena’s hair stand on end (literally).

Master Fu walked in to find Carapace trying to soothe two very frazzled miraculous holders and Chloe ignoring them on her phone.

He sighed and gently rapped his cane on the ground.

Instantly, the room quieted. Chat and Rena snapped out of their shock.

“Bonjour,” chorused everyone.

He smiled tensely. “Bonjour. Where’s Ladybug?”

“Not here yet,” said Chloe. She set her phone down on the table and crossed her arms over her chest. “There’s nothing in the papers, either.”

Master Fu nodded a little bit and took a seat at the head of the table. “We can wait for her. There’s no rush.”

Carapace hesitated before raising his hand. “There’s… a bit of a rush. I was procrastinating a college app and it’s due tonight…”

“It shouldn’t be long,” said Master Fu.

This was true. About five minutes later Ladybug burst into the room, panting softly. “Bon… jour...”

“Thanks for finally showing up,” said Chloe.

No one knew for sure, because Ladybug’s eyes were completely white, but they got the feeling that she was rolling her eyes.

“There was an akuma.”

“Really? There was nothing on the news…” said Rena, genuinely confused, but she trailed off when she realized that maybe getting one of your childhood heroes in trouble was a bad idea if you wanted to have a good relationship with said childhood hero.

Thankfully, Ladybug didn’t seem all that annoyed. “That’s because the news anchor and her crew got swallowed by it before they could get any information out. Anyways, it’s dealt with.”

With that, Ladybug took a seat in the last open chair. There was a beat as she smoothed out the red and black folds of her dress and then she crossed her legs and smiled at everyone.

Master Fu sighed and shook his head, slowly placing his cane in his lap.

“Now that everyone is here, would anyone like to guess why?”

The heroes of Paris stiffened a little bit. That sounded a lot like they were in trouble. They didn’t want to be in trouble.

Rena slowly raised her hand. “Is it… because of what Queen Bee said last week?”

The heroes’ expressions soured a bit at the memory. The video of Chloe trash talking all of them to an interviewer had blown up, and now they could hardly do anything without having at least one reporter hounding them for a response.

None of them could give any, though Rena was sure at least some of them were tempted. The public was supposed to think them all friends, or at worst friendly coworkers. It gave them hope, seeing them all working together for team ups, and analyzing their friendship dynamics kept them relatively distracted from the fact that it had been six years since the first hero had first arrived on the scene and they still had virtually nothing on Hawkmoth.

But now that illusion had been shattered (and trust her, she knew a lot about illusions). Akumas had been more active this week.

“That’s precisely it. Thank you, Rena.” Master Fu regarded them all carefully. “What do you think we should do about it?”

Really, they’d had no clue what to do about their image.

Chloe hadn’t been joking, she’d made that plainly obvious, so saying she didn’t mean it or that was just the type of friendship they had wasn’t going to work…

“Act more like friends…?” Said Ladybug when no one spoke up.

Master Fu nodded.

“Oh, so more team ups or something?” Said Chat.

Carapace shrugged. “Don’t know how much of that I can do, since I’m the only one that can consistently get in the water, but…” He shrugged again. “... sure, I can do that.”

The old man drummed his fingers on the table lightly to bring their attention back to him.

“Yes, that, too, but I was thinking something more… convincing.”

Rena decided that she definitely didn’t like the way his eyes gleamed.

“So, until you manage to defeat Hawkmoth, you will all be living together.”

Everyone opened their mouths to argue but he held up a hand to silence them.

“And you’ll be doing it publicly, posting regular content about it to a social media platform of your choosing…”  He put his hand down. “Now you can complain.”

The teens all immediately started attempting to talk over each other, their voices steadily increasing in volume as they tried to be the one to get their complaints heard.

Rena was silent. Part of her thought that she should be complaining. She had siblings, after all, she had a life outside of heroism… but she couldn’t help but smile. She would be living with her childhood heroes (for a long time, probably, because the Hawkmoth situation was not getting better)! And, really, her sisters could get annoying at times. She’d love an excuse to get away.

So instead of arguing she leaned back in her chair and watched everyone else.

Chloe was the most passionate about it, her jewelry flashing with every wild swing of her hand. Her voice was the loudest, but with the other voices in the room and the fact that she was literally buzzing in her anger it was hard to make out what she was saying.

Chat seemed distressed and Rena could see his mouth saying “I don’t think I’d be allowed to” repeatedly even if she couldn’t hear him over Chloe’s screeching.

Carapace’s face was set in an uncharacteristic frown as he complained. Sure, of those voicing their complaints, he definitely seemed the most relaxed, but the fact that he was frowning was in itself proof of just how upset he really was.

Ladybug was quiet, though she didn’t look particularly happy about it. Her lips were pressed into a thin line as if she was holding herself back from yelling as well and her fingers worried at the hem of her dress.

After a minute of this, Master Fu raised his hands for silence and instantly got it once again.

“Are you done?”

The general consensus was ‘no’, if the looks on their faces meant anything, but they nodded anyways.

“Good. Chat Noir, I’ve already worked everything out with your dad, we’ll discuss it more after the meeting is over.”

Chat relaxed a bit.

“Carapace, your schooling will not be affected. In fact, you’ll likely have a better college experience since all your food and toiletries will be paid for by me.”

Carapace’s expression shifted to a thoughtful one as he considered this.

“Queen Bee, must I remind you of the fact that you’re on thin ice as it is?”

Everyone’s eyes shot to Chloe, who had paled considerably. Her angry buzzing quickly lowered to a dull hum and she settled back into her seat.

Master Fu seemed sated by this, and he looked at Ladybug and Rena.

“And I’m assuming I don’t need to convince either of you?”

Rena shook her head instantly. Ladybug took her time to consider, but eventually shook her head as well.

“Great. Now, shall we talk logistics?”

~~~

Taglist:

@nathleigh @mialuvscats

[pparkerpoetry]

A Son Not Worth Saving

Summary: [“Cut them off.” Tommy said harshly. “I don’t want to look at them. I hate everyone they’re connected to, so I want them gone. Permanently.”]

-or-

Tommy grows wings, and Phil doesn't stick around to help. He discovers the consequences of his neglect, but it's too late. Too late to do anything.

___

It was after Doomsday. Things were tense, and Tommy just wanted a rest. He and Tubbo had gone to his little dirt hut for the night, and though it wasn’t the cleanest place, it was warm enough. 

His back had been itchy during the fight, but he’d passed it off as nerves. Now, though? The slight itch had progressed to a small ache, then a stinging, then agonizing pain. He was on his stomach, arms pressing into the dirt floor, crying as Tubbo tried to figure out what to do. 

“What’s wrong? Tommy, what’s wrong?”

Tommy shook his head. “Tubs, it hurts, make it stop, please,” He sobbed, his fist aimlessly grabbing at small tufts of grass that had grown, despite everything.

“I’m trying, but this is way out of my area of expertise!” Tubbo panicked. “I… I think I’m gonna have to call Philza, or something, I don’t know what to do!”

“Are you crazy?” Tommy yelled. “Don’t call Phil! He’s not gonna help, he just blew up- Don’t call Phil!” 

Tubbo laughed, but it was stressed, “What else am I gonna do, Tommy? I- I don’t know, it kinda seems like you’re growing wings, and-”

“Wings?” Tommy’s disbelief was cut off by a shriek of pain. “I dunno, call Quackity? Doesn’t he have those little chicken wings?”

“Duck, Tommy!”

“I’m on the floor, I can’t duck anymore, Tubbo.”

Tubbo chuckled, but it was high-pitched and panicked. “No, he has duck wings. I definitely need to call Phil, I’ll be right back.”

Tommy tried to reach out, he didn’t want Tubbo leaving, but instead, he just curled into a ball and whimpered. He could catch snippets of the conversation, and it didn’t seem to be going well.

__

“Hi, Mr. Minecraft, Sir? I know it’s a bad time, because you just blew up my whole nation, but, uh,”

A sigh echoed from the other end of the call. “What d’you want, Tubbo?”

Tubbo giggled, but you could tell it wasn’t a casual one. “Well, you see, Philza, uh, I think Tommy-”

“Really? You’re gonna call me about Tommy? Tubbo, thanks for the call, but I gotta go-”

“No, you don’t understand, I think he’s growing wings. I- I need your help.”

Philza didn’t screech. But it was kind of close. “What? He’s growing wings? Tubbo, I hate to break it to you, but I doubt it, and I’m in the arctic anyway,”

Tommy’s whimpers grew louder, and must’ve reached the phone. Phil sighed, heavy and weighted. “Tubbo, I-”

“Please, the only person I could call was Quackity but I figured you’re kind of Tommy’s dad and all-”

“Fine. Tubbo, I’ll be there in a bit. Just- don’t touch his back. Okay?” He hung up, and Tubbo went back to Tommy.

His condition had worsened. He was on the floor, forearms pressed against it as he struggled to keep his head up. “Tubbo?”

Tubbo moved to him, letting Tommy put his arms around his neck in an awkward hug as he cried. “Yeah, Tommy. It’s okay, It’s okay, I’m here. I’m here.”

“Tubbo, I think- I think I’m gonna sleep- pass out, it hurts,”

As much as Tubbo tried to keep Tommy awake, by the time Philza arrived, Tubbo was struggling to hold up an unconscious Tommy. His face looked peaceful, almost. It was the first rest he’d gotten in a long time, but the dried streaks of tears that were there told him it wasn’t a good rest.

Philza looked almost awkward in the small hut. “Tubbo, you should probably leave, I’ll handle this.”

Tubbo wanted to trust Phil, he really did. But something was off about those eyes. Something made Tubbo need to stay here. To monitor. To make sure that Tommy was going to be okay.

“No, that’s fine. I’ll stay here.”

Phil hummed. “Which one of us has wings? You should leave, Tubbo.”

“Which one of us sided with his abuser to blow up the one thing he had left of Wilbur?” Tubbo hissed. “I’m staying here.”

It was quiet, except for the whines that Tommy let out as he clutched at Tubbo. Phil didn’t really do… much, at all. Sure, he had a hand on Tommy’s shoulder, but Tubbo was the one whispering comforting thoughts, Tubbo was the one crying in sympathy, Tubbo, Tubbo, Tubbo.

Why had he called Phil again?

Oh, right.

Tommy woke up when the skin on his back started stretching and they had to tear off his shirt. There was a better way to describe it, but Tubbo started to panic more and couldn’t really think about it. 

“Phil, Phil is this supposed to be happening?”

Phil nodded slowly, and was going to say something, but Tommy managed to slur out some words. “Phil- Dad, is that you?”

Tubbo spoke up when it was clear that Phil wasn’t. “Yeah. Yeah, he came to help you.”

Tubbo hated lying to Tommy. Calling Phil had been a bad idea.

When the skin on Tommy’s back started to show that something was growing underneath it, Phil started to do what he was called here for. “Alright, Tubbo. This is what’s going to happen next. The things right here are the frames of the wings, pretty much. There’s not going to be any feathers yet, those need to grow wings, but there is going to be a lot of blood,” He got up and dusted off his robes. “You’re going to be fine, but I really need to go,”

“What?” Tubbo yelled. “You’re leaving?”

Phil shrugged. “I’ve got some important stuff to get to. I can’t just hold your hands all the way through it.”

“You- Tommy’s important! You can,” Tubbo protested. “You're his father! You can’t just leave!”

“I did years ago,” Phil said, “And he turned out fine. Besides, Wilbur was more his father than I was.”

“Maybe you think so, because of how shittily you treated him!” Tubbo growled. “But whether you want to acknowledge it or not, he was your son.”

Phil shrugged, turning to look at Tommy, who was crying, reaching out for something he’d never get. “He’s not my son. Never was. Even if he was, there’s not much worth saving in him, is there?”

“Get out.” Tubbo mumbled. “Go hang out with Technoblade, cause I know that’s where you’re going. If I ever see you around here again, I’ll kill you.”

“You’d have to get through Techno.” Phil said, clearly amused.

Tubbo turned to look Phil in the eye, and Phil knew he wasn’t lying. “I’ll kill him too.”

____

Tommy didn’t remember what happened. One minute he was on the dirt floor and his dad- Phil was there, and the next he was on a bed, with Quackity and Tubbo.

“Tubs?” He croaked.

Tubbo moved over. “Hi, you’re awake, hi! Are you doing okay? How’re you feeling?”

Tommy blinked, his eyelids heavy. His back ached. “My back is sore. Where’s dad?”

“I should hope your back hurts,” Quackity laughed. “You just grew wings.”

“But where- where’s Phil?”

Tubbo wouldn’t meet Tommy’s dazed gaze. “He can’t be here right now. Had to leave.”

“Probably some bullshit excuse about something important.” Tommy sighed. “Right? He always does that. Always has. Don’t know why I hoped it would be different.”

Quackity frowned. “On the plus side, hermano, you’ve been out for a bit and have already got some feathers! It’s just the fluff though, so they look really cute.”

“What the- no, I don’t wanna look cute, I’m a big man!” Tommy tried to protest, but Quackity laughed more.

“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to laugh, but they all fluffed up and-” He doubled over, and Tubbo managed a small smile.

Tommy swallowed, and sat up. He had to turn around, since he’d been on his stomach, but he was met with the familiar view of his bedroom. “Can I have some time alone, please?”

“Okay,” Tubbo said reluctantly. “But shout if you need anything, okay?”

Tommy said he would, and then as soon as the two others left, started crying. He remembered what Phil had said, even if he’d been listening while in immense pain. For as long as he could recall, he’d just wanted a family. People to love him. People to care about him. People to look at him and support him when they noticed he was down. 

He used to have that. Or maybe not, maybe he was just remembering it wrong. Glorifying the small amounts of affection that Phil had given him. God, Phil really never cared, did he? He just went on with Techno, trusting Wilbur to take care of the child. 

It hurt more that Phil had killed Wilbur than it did Phil disowning him. He knew deep down that it would’ve happened eventually, but he wished it hadn’t been so soon. Tommy knew he had a small family, right outside his door, but he couldn’t help but yearn for the family he used to be a part of. 

Everything in his room reminded Tommy of Philza. If he was going to go and pretend that he was fine, that he could leave his old family behind and love the new one, then he didn’t want the reminders.

Out went the old photo of the four of them, Tommy’s smile reflecting Phil’s, the glass breaking in the trash can. Goodbye to the scarf that hung on the wall with his other winter stuff that Phil had bought for him when they visited a village together. One of the only gifts that he’d ever gotten, while Techno paraded around with swords and jewels and everything that Tommy wanted. Tommy put on a beanie that Quackity had given him a while ago instead, covering the hair that so matched his father’s. 

Away went the pale blue cloak that carried memories of an arctic kingdom. Adios to the little gold bracelet that Techno had given to him to convince Tommy to leave him alone. 

Finally, when he stood in an empty room, all the reminders gone, he looked in the mirror. 

And, he saw his wings.

His wings- the soft feathers stretching into a huge wingspan, pale and hiding what colors the true feathers would be. God, he hoped they weren’t grey.

His wings were perhaps the biggest connection he had to Phil. They were the last tie that he needed to sever. 

Tommy thought it over. He didn’t want his decision to be rushed, or hasty, but he knew what he wanted. It was a few days later, when he was taking a walk with Tubbo, that he finally let his desire be known. 

“Tubbo,” He started, seemingly unaware of the shadow in the woods that watched them. “Do you like my wings?”

“Of course I do,” Tubbo replied, looking over. “Why?”

“Oh, well, I was just thinking they reminded me of Phil, a lot. And, considering he disowned me, I don’t like the reminder of a family that doesn’t love me.”

Tubbo frowned. “What are you trying to say?”

Tommy took out an axe, and shoved it into Tubbo’s hands. “I want you to cut them off.”

“What?”

“Cut them off.” Tommy said harshly. “I don’t want to look at them. I hate everyone they’re connected to, so I want them gone. Permanently.”

“If it’s… Are you sure that’s what you want?”

The grey-winged watcher didn’t stay any longer.

___

Philza visited Tommy the next day. Tommy was planting flowers outside of his house, which was remade out of wood, now.

“I see you’ve been busy.” Phil said, and Tommy scoffed.

“Why’re you here?”

Phil sighed. “I just… I’m scared I was too harsh. I wanted to apologize.”

Tommy’s back was covered with a bright red cloak. “You’re a little too late for that.”

“What do you mean?” Phil asked, fear settling down a little.

“All the times you could’ve apologised, and you choose now. I mean, of course you would.” Tommy said, sitting against the walls and looking up at Phil. “You could’ve come home from any of your adventures and been a better father. You could’ve helped Wilbur and I make a country of our own, ‘cause we had no idea what we were doing. You could’ve stopped Techno from killing Tubbo, because he only listens to you. You could’ve taken me home when Wilbur started keeping me from leaving our little ravine. You could’ve stopped Wilbur. You didn’t have to kill him.” Tommy started crying a little, and Phil sighed.

“I’m sorry, Tommy, but I had no idea-” 

“And whose fault is that?” Tommy screamed. “I sent you letters the whole time. I knew you’d never read them- maybe that’s why when Dream was abusing me I put every little detail into those little slips of papers. I said what I was really feeling in those letters when I couldn’t admit it to myself. You could’ve taken me down from that pillar. You could’ve realized what was going on when I had panic attacks every time you shut the door a little too loudly. You aren’t stupid. You just don’t care- and that’s why you sided with Dream to destroy the one place that I could truly call home. It’s your own fault that our relationship is irreparable, because you had chance after chance after chance to be my father, and you ignored them. Ignored me. No, Philza Minecraft, it’s far too late to apologise.”

“Do you still have them?” Phil asked softly.

“What, the wings?” Tommy scoffed again. “Of course that’s what you’d ask. Making sure I’m still under your control. Well, Phil, no.”

“No, what?” Phil asked, temper flaring. “Do you have them or not?”

“I know you were in the woods, eavesdropping.” Tommy said. “No, I’m not under your control anymore, Philza.” He took his cloak off, and Phil gasped. 

Tommy’s wings were still there. They were beautiful, too. Striking reds and oranges and yellows- a painting of a sunset as a symbol of the ending chapter. “You kept them.”

“I did.” Tommy said, glaring at Phil. “Not for you, though. I was going to let Tubbo chop them off, but I decided that I could go through the pain of losing them after just growing them and have them always in my mind, or,” He tilted his head. “I could keep them. Claim them as mine, learn to fly while you’re grounded forever. I think keeping them hurts you more than it does me- to know that I’m soaring above all of your bullshit, on wings that you gave me, would crush you, I think.”

“Aren’t you still my son, though?” Philza pleaded.

Tommy laughed. “I haven’t been since you walked out the door with Technoblade and left me alone with Wilbur for an entire year, missing my birthday that you promised you’d be at, without so much as a card. I haven’t been your son since you decided to prioritize everything over me, and I certainly am not your son now, when it only benefits you. Bye, Phil. I think you should leave.”

“Tommy, I-”

“You heard him,” came a voice from the doorway. Quackity stood there, arms crossed. Tubbo was behind him. “You should leave. It’s almost time for our family dinner, anyway.”

Phil took a step back. “They’ll never be your true family, Tommy.”

“Thank goodness for that,” Tubbo mentioned. “His biological family kinda treated him like shit.”

Tommy laughed, and patted Tubbo on the shoulder as he went inside. “Bye, Phil. Tell Technoblade I told him to fuck off, will you?”

The countryside echoed Tommy’s laughter as Phil went back to his own home. Apologising was worth a try, but Tommy had been right. He really didn’t care, did he? Maybe that was a realization for another day- Techno needed help with the next farm he was making, after all.

[writersarchivex]

Old Friends- Kyle Spencer Oneshot

a/n: this is kind of trash but i thought it was kinda cute.

warnings: adult language, mentions of death.

Y/N has been attending Robichaux's Academy for a while now, and after years of being here she’s seen a lot. Death, mysterious accidents, and lots and lots of stupid witches doing stupid stuff.

When Zoe and and Madison decided to come running to her, asking for help putting a boy back together, she was sure she was high.

“Okay what the fu- what did you guys do?” She asked frantically getting her stuff together.

Y/N was a pretty sophisticated person. She did her best to not get caught up in the drama, but she knew she had to help. They wouldn’t have asked if it wasn’t important.

“There’s no time Y/N. Please just help. He doesn’t deserve what happened to him.” Zoe yelled.

Zoe didn’t exactly look guilty. Y/N felt that Zoe really wanted to help this man due to her own self preservation.

“Fine. Just get me coffee or something after we are done.” Y/N sighed, not really knowing what kind of mess she had gotten herself into.

—

Out of all places to preform a spell, the morgue is not ideal. First of all, it’s stinks. Death and bleach pretty much covers it.

She looked around at the discarded limbs and bodies, it was quite sad actually. They were real people, and whatever Madison did killed them all. Pretty painfully she could assume.

“Oh Christ almighty you guys,” She paused looking around the small room once more.

“Which one is it.” She rolled her eyes, taking out the supplies needed for the spell.

Madison pointed, and to be honest Y/N had already decided she was going to make the other girls do the dirty work. She might be okay with doing the spell, but she sure isn’t going to touch all over these five day old corpses.

“Get what you need and put him on the table.”

—

Y/N finally was ready. The other two witches had grown impatient, and they were ready to leave. At this point Madison had already mentioned ditching Y/N and just leaving to get lunch.

Thankfully, Zoe said no.

Y/N walked over to the body, already noticing a heap of blond hair.

“Oh my God-” Y/N gasped, placing her hand over her mouth.

She had no problem with death usually. To her it’s a part of life. This tough, shook her to her very core.

Kyle Spencer’s lifeless form stared up at her. Her best friend from back at home. She felt sick to her stomach all of a sudden.

“Oh just fix him already bitch. I have places to be.” Madison huffed, looking over her nails.

Y/N resisted the urge to kill her on the spot. That would certainly make waves back at the academy.

“I know him. Knew him. Whatever let’s just get this over with.” Y/N spoke sadly, before her eyes roamed over him once more.

——

After a long an exhausting process, she had done it. The spell was done, and all she had to do was wait for the boy to wake up. Unlike her fellow witches, Y/N was actually quite educated on the spell she had just done.

She knew quite well what was going to become of poor Kyle, and she hoped that she would be able to fix it. She didn’t want him to be cursed to a life like that.

Zoe and Y/N sat side by side. Madison had long since ditched the two of them.

“You can go. I’ll take care of him. I’m sorry, I mean it must suck to see someone you were close to like that.” She stuttered.

Zoe was always a bit intimidated by the other witches, except for Nan of course. Nan was such a sweet person, everyone loves her.

“I’m fine. I’m going to probably go. Good luck with him.” She smiled, standing up.

—-

It had been about a week, and Y/N had done everything she could to learn how to fix Kyles mind.

She was sure by now that she could do it, but she was surprisingly nervous that she would mess him up even more.

Y/N was sitting on her bed when the door opened up harshly, startling her a bit.

Zoe pushed a very much so zombied Kyle into the room, and locked the door behind her.

He was being surprisingly calm toward Zoe, as long as she wasn’t touching him, he wouldn’t get all freaky and try to murder her.

“He just- Just killed his mom. Y/N please I cant do this anymore.”

Y/N’s eyes widened.

She didn’t know very much about his mom, but she knew enough. She wasn’t a very good woman, and although Y/N hated to say this, his mom

deserves what she got.

It was now though, that she locked eyes with Kyle. She could’ve sworn she saw his body relax almost immediately.

“Y/N-” He muttered out before rushing to her feet.

He clung desperately to her jean clad legs, and Y/N dared her hand to move to the top of his head, gently massaging his scalp.

Then she saw the blood. He was covered nearly head to toe in his disgusting mother’s blood. This caused a bit of anger to well up inside her.

“First you kill him. Then you make me bring him back to life. Then you don’t even have the fucking decency to clean the blood off him. Get out please, I’ll take it from here.” Y/N stated sharply.

The mere sight of Zoey was beginning to annoy her deeply, and she knew that if the girl stayed much longer, it wouldn’t end well.

Zoe sighed and stepped slowly out of the room, leaving Y/N alone with Kyle.

He was still a mess. Latched on to her legs and whimpering, the man was completely broken.

Kyle must remember her from their childhood. They had quite a defining friendship, and she understood why he remembered her. She was glad that he could feel safe with someone.

He was probably scared to death. Well he’s already dead, but still.

“Let’s get you cleaned up.” She said softly to the boy in front of her.

She carefully took his arm, and led him to the bathroom. The last thing she wanted was to scare him more than he already was.

—-

She had been successful in cleaning him up, the blood was no longer under his nails and matted in his hair.

She gave him one of her bigger flannels, hoping that and the random pair of jeans she had found would fit him okay.

They are sat on the edge of her bed, internally she was trying to decide on whether or not she would try this spell or not.

She turned to look at him. His soft features resembled the look of a toddler at this point, he was staring into space, and he had been chewing on his fingernail intently.

She made up her mind, and she began to speak slowly.

“Kyle honey, i’m going to help you okay. Don’t be scared.” She said lowly, and he nodded a bit before looking at her.

Curiosity washed over his face as she pulled out the large book full of spells and other ailments.

“Let’s get started then.”

—

It wasn’t perfect, but she had helped. He still stumbled a bit over his words, and his feet but he was pretty much back to normal.

Y/N felt ashamed at how powerful she felt. She never knew that she could accomplish something so big.

She stuffed her feelings down, and did her best to explain everything to him. It was a lot to take in but he just nodded along.

“I’m so sorry this happened to you. I shouldn’t have let Zoe take you.” She said looking at the floor.

Kyle finally had a chance to look at her and really take in the sight. She had grown since last he’d seen her. Her hair was much fuller, and her eyes seemed to be a lot brighter. He had missed her. Every time something cool at school would happen, he desperately would want to tell her. She was gone though, and he had lost his best friend.

He had always loved her, and as the groggy memories came back, he new what he had to do.

He took a very slow and careful step towards the witch and placed his trembling hand on her cheek.

“It’s not your fault. You saved me Y/N.” At this point, he was sure her face was turning a dark shade of pink.

“Kyle I-” Y/N didn’t have time to finish her sentence before Kyle had placed his chapped lips on hers.

Everything she had wanted as a child was finally coming true. She had always loved him. Loved him more than best friends love each other.

They made each other’s lives complete. She was the only one that could rescue him from his mind in their teenage years. He was the one to comfort her when she was scared of the roaring thunder outside.

“I’ve missed you, Kyle. I’m sorry I had to go away.” The witch spoke, feeling tear pool in her eyes.

Her magic was starting to run kind of wild, and the candles in the room lit up, blazing fiercely and causing large shadows to appear on the bedroom walls.

He looked around in amazement, but turned his attention back to the woman when he heard a sniffle.

He wrapped his arms around her, and laid back so they could both look at the ceiling.

The two of them stayed like that, until the next morning. They were woken by a very confused Cordelia Goode.

[tinyboxxtink]

"Not My Yacht" *Chapter 10*

CHAPTER NINE

FINALE/EPILOGUE

So here's the thing:

I'm actually almost done writing this story, but I have so much written that I need to split it up so...the way I did it because I REFUSE to have odd number of chapters is that this is the technical "end" of the story. Yes. I know.

BUT--

The "epilogue" is coming out in a few hours, and really it's the ending so don't worry okay? And I say that because you will worry. A LOT.

Anyway enjoy!

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---------------------

You were in the middle of your mental breakdown when you heard a voice that made your blood run cold.

“Izzie, Izzie, Izzie….”

You raised your head to see Lewis grinning wildly like a mad man.

“Don’t you know by now? You’re never going to get rid of me,” He continued to grin wickedly. “And no man is ever going to love you the way I do,”

“T-That’s not true,” You whispered while you shook your head.

“Isn’t it? I could hear your little exchange in there,” His voice was soft and cruel, he knew how to manipulate your mind so easily.

“Barba was just using you for some sex on the side, probably wanting you to do things his little ginger wouldn’t dare think of. Things a respectable woman wouldn’t do. He figured a cute little stupid thing like you would do anything for a big fancy lawyer,”

“That’s not true,” You tried to block his voice out, curling your knees up into your chest and shutting your eyes.

“It’s absolutely true and you know it,” He continued to torment you with his cruel words. “Now, just untie me and I promise to let the happy couple go, that mean old ADA won’t hurt you anymore with his lies,”

“You’re the liar,” You growled.

“Am I?” He asked you in a sincere voice. “Have I ever been anything but faithful to you? Have I not gotten you anything you ever wanted? Did I not keep you happy?”

“Not when you were abusing me, Tommy,” You spit at him.

“Alright, well sure I had a temper. But I’ve never been anything but honest with you, and you know it,” He continued.

“Come on baby, just untie me. We can punish that ADA together,” He whispered.

“I….”

“I don’t think so,” Olivia’s voice came from behind you before the cattle prod was being pushed passed you and hitting Lewis for several seconds. He screamed out in pain and convulsed wildly before going unconscious again.

You blinked several times as Lewis’s voice faded from your throughs. It was as if you were being knocked out of a trance. You finally looked at Olivia with an embarrassed face.

“...Thank you,” You muttered. “I should have--”

“No, don’t do that,” She stopped you. “Don’t apologize for anything. That guy is a monster, he’ll say anything to anyone. He knows how to get in your head, I’m sure you know that,”

“A smarter person wouldn’t let him,” You pushed your hair behind your ears. “You didn’t,”

“I almost did, trust me,” She put a hand to your shoulder. “He’s the closest anyone has gotten inside my head. But he definitely scared the shit out of me,”

“...Right,” You shook your head, not feeling worthy of her compassion. You had almost just let a psychopath get back to his reign of terror because of simple words.

“Look I know it’s uncomfortable, but I think you should probably wait with us in the living room,”

“...Right,” You nodded and followed her back to your living room where Rafael held his head in his hands. He immediately looked up at the two of you in concern.

“What happened?! I heard Lewis scream,” He asked worriedly.

“We handled it,” Olivia dismissed his worries.

“Y/N I---” Rafael was interrupted by a banging at the door.

“LIV! BARBA! You okay?” Rafael heard Fin’s came booming through the door. Liv ran over and opened it, letting in her squad and several paramedics and cops. They began filling your apartment, throwing Rafael on a gurney and checking you and Olivia out.

“We’re going to need to take you to the hospital, ma’am,” One paramedic informed you.

“Oh it’s fine I’ve dealt with this before, if I just wrap it and let it set it’s--”

“Uh, ma’am I don’t know what you’ve been told, but this wrist needs medical attention,”

“Oh,” You felt your face grow hot. You had been so used to having broken bones kept under wraps you clearly had no regard for yourself.

“Right, yeah ok whatever,” You shrugged as you followed the paramedic down the hall. Before the elevator arrived a cop came running after you.

“Oh ma’am, we’re going to need to keep your apartment vacant for a few days, it’s an official crime scene,” He informed you. “Do you have anywhere to stay?”

“Yeah, I have a dorm room,” You nodded, but suddenly remembered Zipper and Dash. “My cats though, I don’t have anywhere for my cats,”

“Um I don’t want to alarm you ma’am but we haven’t seen any cats,”

“They’re scared of strangers,” You assured him. “They’ve probably been hiding since Lewis brought me here,”

“Ah,” He nodded. “Well, do you think they will come out any time soon?”

“As long as there’s strangers in there? No,” You shook your head.

“Well, I suppose they can stay,” He sighed, not really wanting to deal with animals. That was below his pay grade for sure.

“Great,” You nodded, just as the elevator arrived. “Thanks officer,”

“We’ll need to get your statement at the hospital as well,”

“Awesome,” You rolled your eyes as the elevator doors closed.

Even more ‘awesome’ awaited you in the parking lot, when you realized there was only one ambulance. And Olivia and Rafael were already in it.

“Oh, no look I’m sure there’s no room for me in there--”

“No ma’am you’re fine, there’s one more seat next to Ms. Benson,” The paramedic assured you as he led you to the ambulance and helped you inside to sit next to Olivia. Rafael was hooked up to oxygen while strapped into the gurney, he blinked at you with sad eyes.

“Great…” You sighed, trying not to look at him.

The ride to the hospital was silent and awkward, Olivia was stroking Rafael’s hair while he laid there incapacitated. She hated seeing him like this, so small and pitiful. He was usually so smooth and strong, quick with the quips and attitude.

“You know he was telling the truth,” She said softly while still stroking him and looking in his eyes. They softened in appreciation when she spoke.

“I’m sorry?” You raised an eyebrow.

“I’m not his girlfriend,” She turned to look at you.

“Could’ve fooled me,” You gestured to her comforting pets.

“I’m his best friend,” She explained. “I know he likes to have his hair stroked when he’s sick. His abuela used to do it when he was a child,” You looked at Rafael who softly nodded, confirming her explanation.

“Yeah, well--” You looked at the floor of the ambulance. “I wouldn’t know that. I wouldn’t know anything, because I don’t know him,”

“But you could,”

“Can we just--?” You gave them both a look that you were really not in the mood to discuss this right now.

“Yeah, sorry,” Olivia nodded before looking at Rafael and mouthed “I tried”. He nodded in appreciation, weakly squeezing her hand.

Finally you reached the hospital. Nurses helped you out of the vehicle while others pulled Rafael out and rushed him inside in front of you and Olivia. You were both escorted opposite ways by nurses to get checked out yourselves.

-----

After a few hours your wrist had been splinted, and your bruises and cuts were cleaned and patched. You had actually never been this taken care of in a long time-- maybe ever. You had learned to just live with your injuries from Lewis, you didn’t think you deserved it after letting him do that to you. While you were being discharged, you heard a voice you never expected.

“Y/N!!!” You looked up to see your dorm mate Kyra come running over to you.

“Kyra, what--- what are you doing here?”

“I’m your emergency contact, duh,” She gestured like it was the most obvious thing. “Although I’m such a horrible contact, I should have noticed you were in trouble when you didn’t show up last night. I am so sorry, Y/N!” She threw her arms around you, hitting your broken wrist.

“Oww,” You winced in pain, making her jump back.

“Oh my God,” She made a face, “I’m so sorry love, oh God are you okay?”

“Yeah, no I’m fine,” You nodded “Let’s just go home,”

Out of nowhere came Olivia, stopping the two of you before you reached the front door.

“Oh for fuck’s sake--” You muttered under your breath.

“Who’s this?” Olivia nodded at Kyra.

“This is my dorm mate, Kyra,”

“Oh my god is this the cop you were with? Ma’am I am so sorry, I should have checked--”

“It’s fine sweetie,” She interjected. “Really,” Then she turned her attention to you. “Aren’t you going to go say goodbye to Rafael?”

“....Why would I do that?” You raised an eyebrow.

“Oh I don’t know, in case he dies and the last thing he hears from you is some bullshit about being ‘done’ with him?” Olivia crossed her arms.

“Are you seriously trying to guilt me into going to see him?” You scoffed in disbelief. How dare she?

“I’m just saying,” She shrugged. “If you’re going to disappear on him I think he at the very least deserves a proper goodbye from you. I think you owe him that,”

“Owe him?” You scoffed. “Are you kidding me?”

“You got him kidnapped and shot Y/N, so yeah I think you owe him,” She narrowed her eyes.

“Fine,” You rolled your eyes as you stomped off towards a room you saw them take Rafael to earlier, you assumed from a surgery. You entered the room just as the doctor was leaving.

“Oh hello, I was just telling your husb--” He started to tell you.

“He’s not my husband,”

“Oh sorry, I was telling your boyfr--”

“He’s NOT my boyfriend,”

“....Right, okay well I was telling this man, that he’s pretty lucky,” The doctor finally gave up trying to guess the nature of your relationship.

“Lucky to get shot?” You rolled your eyes.

“No, he’s lucky someone pulled the bullet out of his wound before tying it up. That thing could have embedded itself within the tissue and he would have gone septic,”

“Meaning…?”

“He would have lost his leg, or died,” Your face dropped when the words came out of his mouth.

He could have died. You could have gotten him killed. Forget your well being, he didn’t deserve to die because he had the misfortune of meeting you.

“He’s lucky to have a guardian angel,” The doctor gave you a knowing look.

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure guardian angels don’t get their charges shot in the first place,”

“Don’t listen to her,” Rafael’s voice came from behind the two of you. “She is my angel,”

“He’s hopped up on pain meds,” You pointed out his amorous statement.

“....I wouldn’t be so sure,” He walked out with a smile. You rolled your eyes once again but moved closer to Rafael’s bed. You went to take his hands, but you thought better of it. You didn’t want to make this any harder.

“I’m glad you stayed,” He decided to hold your hands himself, but you pulled away.

“I stayed because I was getting this treated,” You presented your wrist. “And now I’m leaving with my dorm mate. But Olivia said I ‘owe’ you a goodbye so--”

“You ‘owe' me?” He snorted sarcastically. “God I love Olivia, but she’s so--”

“Bitchy?” You half laughed.

“Overprotective,” He corrected you.

“Well, I’m sure you guys can protect each other from now on, without me getting you shot,”

“You didn’t get me--”

“Yeah but I did though,” You cut him off. “If you had never met me, Lewis wouldn’t have cared about hurting you,”

“I’m pretty sure he would have wanted to anyway, he only showed up to my office to find out information about me,” He pointed out.

“Well, whatever,” You waved away his absolutions. “It happened, and I’m sorry,”

“You don’t have to be--”

“I don’t care, Rafael. Just-- just let me apologize, let me feel guilty. Just take care of yourself, okay?” You started to back away from his bed.

“I’d rather you take care of me,”

“Yeah well,” You ran your fingers through your hair. “That’s too bad, because I’m leaving here and I’m not looking back,” You turned to leave.

“So I’ll see you Monday,” You could hear the smirk in his voice. He really wasn’t getting this.

“No, you won’t,” You sighed. “I told Rita I’m resigning from my position,”

“Because of me?” He cocked his head to the side like a puppy dog.

“Because I was just held hostage by my abusive husband and I’m pretty traumatized by it, Rafael! I think I deserve a bit of fucking time to….collect myself,” You tried to find a word for ‘keep your sanity’,”

“You’re not ‘collecting yourself’, you’re running,” He challenged you.

“Excuse the fuck out of you,” Your eyes filled with flames. “I am NOT running--”

“Yes you are!” He interjected angrily. “When something bad happens to you, you can’t deal with it so you just run,”

“You absolutely completely insensitive narcissistic prick,” You growled. “How dare you fucking say that to me! After everything I told you, after everything you know I went through with Lewis,”

“Alright that may have been--,”

“See this?” You referenced his cold tactic trying to get you to stay with him. “This is why I’m leaving. You bit back tears even harder.

“What?” He asked you with furrowed eyebrows.

“Rafael I have--” You searched for the words. “...Had feelings for you, for a long time now,” You took a deep breath, refusing to break down now. You had gotten this far, just say your piece and leave.

“But you,” You shook your head with a dry laugh. “You didn’t even see me, not until I was finally something you wanted to look at,”

“That’s not fair--”

“YES, it is!” You weren’t letting him win this. “That's exactly what happened!”

“Not, not really--”

“Yes, really,” You finally couldn’t hold back the tears overflowing from your pupils. “You think you have these ‘feelings’ for me, and it’s completely superficial!”

“....But it doesn't have to be,” He finally conceded that he really didn’t know anything about you, except that you were adorably awkward and looked great in his shirt. “Not if we get to know each other,”

“I don’t want to get to know each other, because I already know you,” You shook your head, looking at the floor. You couldn’t look in his eyes right now, you knew you’d cave.

“No you don’t. You have just as superficial feelings for me that I have for you,” He argued.

“I know what I need to know about you to know I don’t want to know any more,” You bit back.

“That is so--”

“I don’t care what it is!” You did your best not to scream at him but you were fighting a losing battle.

He was right, you didn’t really know anything about him besides he knew how to work a suit, smelled amazing, and was a great kisser. But he flipped so easily on you, and the fact remained that he did only notice you once you were parading yourself half naked. You had to get out of here before you betrayed yourself.

“I-- I made my decision, and if you care anything about me like you claim to, then you’ll just leave me the hell alone,” You reached for the door, tears dripping down your face.

“...Okay,” He finally conceded, looking down at his blanket. Tears filled his eyes now. He knew you were right, if he really cared about you he’d stop causing you pain.

“Okay,” You nodded again before walking out the door, leaving Rafael alone.

“Let’s go,” You told Kyra while you wiped away your tears and kept walking before she could answer.

“What happened?” She asked you as she tried keeping up with you, but you were on a mission to get the hell out of there.

“Nothing,” You mumbled, really not wanting to talk about it.

“...Wasn’t that the guy you’ve had a crush on for months?” Kyra asked while glancing back towards the hospital.

“No...yes...maybe,” You shook your head but refused to stop walking.

“So why did you tell him you never wanted to see him again?!”

“Because...it’s...it’s complicated, Kyra,”

“You know,” She finally grabbed your shoulder, preventing you from walking any further. “Nothing worth having is simple,”

“Thank you, Nostradamus,”

“I just...don’t want to see you unhappy, Y/N,” She gave you a sad look.

“I appreciate it, Kyra,” You threw an arm over her shoulder. “You’re a good friend,”

Despite Kyra’s advice, you kept true to your word. You quit Rita’s job, to which she completely understood and still wrote you a glowing recommendation to use wherever you applied after law school. You kept your head in the books for the rest of your law school career, graduating in the top 2% of your class. Soon after that, you had several of the most prestigious law firms banging at your door to come work for them. You asked Kyra to move into the penthouse with you after you graduated so you weren’t alone in that big place all by yourself. And the cats of course.

You had everything you ever wanted, everything you worked so hard for. Everything you never thought was possible when you were living in fear of your life every night. Your life was perfect.

So why did it feel like something was missing?

[kisskissbanggang]

Hello Stranger

[14K Words/1Hr. Read - Teacher!Bang Chan x Admin!Female Reader - Fake Relationships, Guest Appearances, Fluff, Smut, Slow Burn, New Teachers, Vanilla, Office Sex, Allusions To Troubling Subjects]

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You should’ve expected a phone call when you read the email. At least then you would be somewhat prepared for the verbal lashing you were currently receiving from one of your greatest teachers. 

“I’m sorry, but — wait, you know what? No I’m not, I’m not sorry — but I am not staying here with this dumpster fire waiting to happen! He’s wrecking the department — Johnny, let me talk — and I didn’t even want him here to begin with. Congratulations, ma’am, you torpedoed my program I worked so hard to build.”

Doyoung paused, waiting for you to call his bluff, to appeal to his good side as usual. He was right. He’d done so much for his school — for the district, really, and this was getting out of hand. Johnny could be heard behind him, the poor principal having apparently had his desk phone wrestled away from him to begin with. 

“Mr. Kim,” you spoke into the phone, mustering all the confidence you had in you, “what do you want me to do? I mean it. Tell me what you want.”

“He goes or I go,” Doyoung dramatically laid out into your ear. Johnny could be heard trying to console the raving teacher before Doyoung apparently ducked him every few seconds. “I’m losing my mind. I have 150 students becoming fucking hypnotized and they’re influencing their peers like the plague.”

“Besides losing either of you,” you carefully negotiated, “what do you want me to do? I value your input; I always have. Dig into the meat with me here, please.”

“I will not teach beside some noble renegade who wears hoodies to class and asks his students to call him by his first name. I won’t teach in the same building, nor in the same school. This is dangerous, and you know it is. For all the money you’re throwing at PR this year you could be putting it in your students.”

You hated that Doyoung was right. This was not a great start to the year. A sigh escaped that you had not meant for, and Doyoung audibly steeled himself on the other end of the receiver. He was waiting now. 

“I’m coming down there,” you announced. Apparently Johnny heard you, a god fucking dammit being heard behind Doyoung’s shoulder. Doyoung, however, was sated. 

“Fine,” he replied, but he didn’t sound fine. He sounded like he was surprised he got anywhere. “I’m sorry I got so upset.”

And like that, Doyoung hung up. You slumped down in your chair, having been pacing your otherwise pristine office for the past 15 minutes which had felt more like 15 hours. You were fussily rearranging your desk, trying to calm yourself back down when your assistant finally felt it was safe enough to poke her head into your office. 

“Ma’am—” Yeji greeted before you held up a hand to stop her. You pinched the bridge of your nose in exasperation. 

“How many more calls this week?”

“Only four,” she replied. A relieved sigh softened your tense shoulders as she set the personnel file you requested on your desk. 

You felt so old now, run ragged by all the mayhem, but it wasn’t so long ago that you were young yourself. Even then, you still were according to most standards. You were the youngest assistant superintendent to ever serve the district, a set of magnet schools within the city comprised of one private Montessori primary school, one public STEM-focused junior high, and one private-public hybrid high school of the arts. You pined for the ultimate position, but that chair was long occupied by Mr. Simmons, a token favorite of the school board. He called you dear and was always acting like some big man pitying a little girl. However, this didn’t mean you hadn’t tried like hell to make an impression. 

Your first three years had been a terrific uphill trajectory. In year one, you brought on Doyoung to replace the retiring choir teacher and head of the music department at the high school. To date, he’d brought in more accolades than his predecessor did in twice the time. For your second year, you collaborated with your junior high on an agricultural enrichment program that offset food costs district wide to the point you could improve offerings in all three cafeterias. This year, you re-established the district PTA. Doyoung’s rabid Booster Club and the parents of the junior high’s robotics team made up the first meeting, and more and more parents had joined since. 

So it only seemed fair that this year was your first true hurdle. It had been such an innocent decision: you took a proposed program from the junior high and adapted it for your high school students. A music production and distribution program was a clean, sleek idea that was sure to impress the PTA and enrich the lives of your students in their already affluent music department and work as a dual credit with the business side of the class. What you hadn’t betted on, however, was what exactly a young teacher could get into in a high school setting. 

Chris Bang wasn’t naive — you were sure of it, looking at his portfolio. He’d cut his teeth independently producing from a young age and gathering a loyal following online. This was a concept you understood well enough, but had a time and a half explaining to anyone older than you, it seemed. Anyone older than you, but also especially Doyoung, who was very fiercely proud of his hard work to get his double Masters in Choral Conducting and Music Theory at 21 and didn’t have the patience for homegrown prodigies. You couldn’t blame Doyoung, really, even with his dramatics. His competition choir was a force to be reckoned with — surprisingly disciplined, endlessly talented, and ravenously competitive — and now two of his students were wrapped up in all this, too, and that was just the extent you were aware of. 

You tapped out an IM to Yeji from your desktop, asking her to come back into your office, and she dutifully popped in a few seconds later. She pulled up a chair in front of your desk as you rested your head in your hands for a moment. “Tell me, Yeji,” you sighed, “what’s your read on this?”

“Well, ma’am,” she mulled it over, “it’s not great. It’s awful, really. But it’s hard to tell by now what’s real, what’s a cry for attention, or what feels real but is actually just the zeitgeist. You know how this is, what it can turn into.”

You did. You’d remembered your own whirlwind feelings at a similar age, even just out of high school. Strangers and dissenters had a hard time believing it, but before you had assumed the role of meticulously poised and proper, you were frustratingly belligerent and stubborn like many of your peers when you were younger. It was easy to recall how real, how present every moment was at the time, but you didn’t even remember the whole story now. In fact, you hadn’t thought of that story in ages, but you were suddenly reminded of the smell of pine trees and sugar, the cool electricity of being out past midnight. It was quite possibly the most excited you’d ever felt, but now you couldn’t remember the fine details, the corners sanded down to curves over time. To your students, these letters were the most exciting and dramatic thing to ever happen to them, and if they would remember the details later on would depend on how you handled the situation. 

The first letter surfaced just a week before, and online of all places. A full declaration of this girl’s undying love for Chris and all of the very, very, very inappropriate things she wanted to do with him, found in an envelope on the keyboard outside his office and posted online before he could ever see it. The next letter was eventually found two days later, apparently picked up from where it had missed the trash can: a 17 year old boy, feeling emboldened enough to finally profess who he was — gay, madly in love with Chris, and willing to risk it all. A third was stolen from a girl’s backpack from some bullies and she had been a wreck, so sure that Chris had picked one of the other two and she’d missed her chance. That girl hadn’t returned to school yet. Who knew what else was going on in the hallways, in the cafeteria and bathrooms, in the parking lot after school? 

Four more parents contacted your office, according to Yeji. Four more letters. And now Doyoung was threatening to quit, for added reasons you hadn’t even been aware of. You flipped through Chris’ personnel file, hoping not to find any red flags, but hopefully find any reason this spiraled out of control, anything other than tumultuous teenage life wreaking havoc on your students. 

Your sigh renewed in spades as you glanced at your assistant again. “Who do you remember most from high school?”

Yeji’s eyes were cast downward as she thought about it. “Other than my friends? Probably the student teacher in my auto class,” she blissfully reminisced. “The teacher would sleep half the time and the student teacher would just teach us whatever we wanted to know and what we needed to know for tests. I remember I had the biggest crush because of that.”

“That’s what I was afraid of.”

“Sorry, ma’am,” Yeji gave an apologetic smile. “What about you?”

Her question knocked you off your feet for a moment. For some reason, you hadn’t been expecting it, but you immediately had an answer. “Aside from friends? Weirdly enough,” you began, “someone I didn’t meet until graduation.”

As sickly sentimental as the thought of it was, it was true. You didn’t even remember that boy’s name anymore, but you’d met exactly three times before you left for college. He had been hanging out by the bonfire on the beach at a grad party no one had expected to get so crazy. You couldn’t remember your conversation, but you could remember his bleached hair tucked under a beanie catching your eye as he sat by himself, his friends apparently wreaking havoc on their own somewhere. His lip ring was crooked, and in a fit of beer-buzzed confidence you’d fixed it for him while you talked about the phony gravitas of graduation. You’d almost kissed him, too, connecting over things that seemed way more kismet than they probably were when your friends finally made you walk home with them. 

You gathered up the rest of your patience and courage as you bid Yeji goodbye until your return and headed out to your car in the lot, making the tedious journey to the high school. The handsomely vintage architecture was charmingly modern inside the gates and within its walls, but not overly so. However, this also meant the school was a hike and a maze to navigate through to find the music department. You were distracted, though, missing a turn here or there and having to turn back a couple times now that you were suddenly remembering your clandestine romance from years ago. What was his name? It wasn’t even that long ago. Had so much really happened since then? You wracked your brain. He had a reasonably fresh and nice scratcher tattoo on his bicep, you remembered, but you couldn’t remember what it was for some reason, just like his name. He had to have said it in one of these memory bites. 

The second time you’d met, he’d been handing out flyers on the boardwalk for his own show at a rave in a warehouse on the other side of town, out where the beach met the woods. He’d seen you before you’d seen him, and he had popped up with a greeting of Hello, stranger. He had made you promise to be there, which is where you met the third and final time later that night. He greeted you again the same way. Hello, stranger. You’d thought it was cute then, and still did, which must be why you still remembered that detail, at least. He liked your shoes, your worn work boots you’d picked up at a thrift store and refused to get rid of despite all the times your parents asked. 

Those warehouse shows were always nuts, all sorts of vendors arriving who were willing to shack up with any event that passed through. He had bought you cotton candy from one of these vendors when you met him after his set and you chatted as you walked along the tree line, talking about his dreams of becoming rich and famous on his own terms. He kissed you, once, and you tasted his lip ring and spun sugar for weeks. You found yourself wondering now if he ever did become rich and famous. 

Doyoung gave you a passing glance in the hall as you stalked towards Chris’s classroom: he looked impatient but thrilled and, sure enough, well dressed in his usual suit and tie. You wondered if this new staff member was exactly what Doyoung was fear mongering. Maybe it was simply a difference in values. This was Chris’ first year teaching professionally, you remembered, and now you felt miserably guilty. What a horrible way to start a career. You hadn’t even visited your new teacher since he began, but just the door outside his room was a mess. Doyoung’s fretting made more sense now. Even though you’d only gotten four phone calls, Chris’s classroom door was plastered in letters. 

The door creaked and fluttered as you opened it and peeked your head inside. The room was devoid of any human presence. For a space that needed to serve multiple purposes, it was sparsely filled except for classroom materials and equipment. Regular desks and chairs filled the floor as opposed to risers or music stands like in the other department classrooms, but there was still a soundproof practice room in the back of the room, and only the recording equipment stored around the room gave any hint to the classroom’s purpose. To deal with the mess after the third letter, a sub was leading Chris’s classes in the library, but you at least expected to find him here himself, or at least some posters or framed photos. You peeked inside the small office at the head of the classroom, finding it just as empty as well, but with some more personality. A few extra milk crates of visibly nicer vinyl records for sampling and listening were stacked beside the desk along with a nicer record player than what was by his desk out in the classroom. Some books sat on a shelf with a modest cactus in the corner, and finally some photos: Chris shaking hands and smiling with tons of industry players and friends, and occasionally appearing in one of those hoodies Doyoung had been warning of. He did own suits, apparently. Multiple. And he looked good in them. 

A polite cough surprised you at the door of the office. 

You whirled around, the sun outside silhouetting Chris as he stared at you in his dimly lit office. “My office hours are cancelled this week. May I help you?”

It was your turn to cough, clearing your throat. He was certainly young. He was certainly handsome, his grimace pronouncing the charming dimples in his cheeks. He certainly didn’t dress like a teacher. Chris stood in the doorway of his own office, looking at you curiously in his hoodie, jeans, and sneakers. He even had a backpack hung on his shoulder and a bag of greasy fast food in his hands. He suddenly looked down at it, embarrassed. 

“I, er, wore out my welcome in the teacher’s lounge, it seems,” he sighed out a sullen laugh. “And I needed some fresh air.”

“Mr. Bang, I—“

“Call me Chris,” he insisted with a tired grin. Your heart shamefully thumped at how friendly and cute he was. It was easier to pretend you didn’t hear him. He stepped around you and dropped down into his desk chair. He silently gestured at his food, appearing to ask if you were alright if he ate while you talked. You nodded. He dug into the bag and cheekily offered you a fry. You coolly shook your head. 

“I’m sorry we have to meet like this, but as assistant superintendent—“

Chris sputtered, standing up from his chair as he choked down the fry he’d just put in his mouth. “Ma’am,” he gasped finally, “I didn’t—“

“I know,” you nodded again. You waved up a hand in understanding. “Please, sit back down. I wanted to come by and see how you’re doing, considering the current state of affairs.”

Chris stayed standing, uneasy and fidgeting. “Alright, what do you want? Is this it? Please don’t suggest I need an attorney, I don’t think I can handle it.”

“What?” You asked, surprised. 

“I’m sorry for snapping,” Chris lamented, “but I’ve gotten dozens of emails and messages through the school portal from parents and students asking me if I did anything, and it’s doing my head in.”

“They’re what?!” You hadn’t even considered anyone actually thought the teacher was guilty of anything. He nodded gravely. 

“Read the letters outside!” His demand came out brokenly as he pointed behind you. “They’re begging me and taunting me to do all sorts of shit. Confess, quit, fuck them — all sorts of awful trash that I never even imagined. I just wanted to teach. I don’t know why the hell this is happening to me.”

You had no idea about any harassment. This looked bad. It looked bad to your students, their parents, the staff — everyone. You pulled out your phone from your purse and brought up the PR rep’s number, now on your speed dial. “You didn’t do anything.”

“Of course I didn’t—“ he sputtered before you cut him off. 

“I wasn’t asking, Mr. Bang. You didn’t do anything and I believe you. A good superintendent would support good staff. Your first few months brought nothing but praise past my office.”

“Thank you, ma’am,” Chris quietly said. He finally sat down as you dialed the rep. She would be by shortly. You found another chair hiding under a pile of books and cds and moved them so you could sit. Chris was looking at you oddly now as you hung up, sitting closer than you’d normally like in the small office. You shifted uncomfortably. Chris offered you a fry again before you stiffly refused once more. He shrugged and began inhaling his food in earnest. 

“Hungry?” You asked sarcastically, instantly regretting it. There was no sense in kicking him while he was down. 

“Emotional eater,” he clarified around a mouthful, equally sarcastic in your resumed awkward silence. You considered the young teacher in front of you. If you recalled the personnel file, he wasn’t just a brand new teacher, he was new to the area as well. A rumor apparently spread among the students and even some of your staff that he had been running away from something, but you never paid that any attention until you were actually in the same room with him. He caught you zoning out in his direction, an eyebrow raised as he paused on his mouthful of food, and you sheepishly pulled out your phone and checked your agenda until your rep finally found you hiding out together in the tiny office. 

Ryujin had become your go-to girl since the school year started but even more so over the past week. Public relations for a school district should never have to become very high-maintenance work, but Ryujin was quickly proving herself over-qualified for the job. She stood in the doorway, tall and cool in her confidence despite her short stature as she looked over the situation. 

“Stand up,” she simply directed Chris. 

He gave you a quick glance, not moving until you nodded. Chris set his food down and stood, hands in his hoodie pockets as Ryujin circled him. He warily shied away from her prodding as she pinched and pulled at his clothes, looking at tags and labels. She fiddled with the cute studs in his ears, tugged on the strings of his hoodie to draw him more to her level, and ruffled his dark, fluffy hair to look for showing roots or product. Ryujin looked at you now. “This isn’t so bad,” she told you decidedly. 

Chris was confused, left about ten miles behind the conversation. “Why—“

“What do we do?” You asked. Chris looked wildly between both of you as you decided his fate without him. “We’re dealing with harassment now.”

“Of course we are,” Ryujin nodded thoughtfully, “I mean, look at him.”

“Hey!” Chris rightfully looked offended, even as you held up a calming hand to settle him down. Ryujin impatiently waited for you to let her continue. 

“He doesn’t look like a teacher, he doesn’t act like a teacher, he’s under 30, and— I’m sorry— he’s cute. He was bound to get eaten alive when his students are only a few years younger than him and he has no experience.”

“So,” you reiterated, “what do we do?”

“He can go back to teaching,” Ryujin ruled, “but he has to look and act the part. No more first-name basis, no more street clothes.”

“This is so ridiculous!” Chris laughed in disbelief. 

Both you and Ryujin glared at him now before she continued. “He’ll have to make a statement first. I’ll write it, of course. He can speak at the next PTA meeting. But —“ she turned to face him for once, “you shouldn’t be alone. Do you have a spouse? A partner? Some boyfriend or girlfriend?”

Now you shared Chris’ confused look. “Why does that matter?”

Ryujin folded her arms. “I don’t mince words. Sympathy, mostly. For anyone worrying, he’ll clearly appear to have support. For anyone who is doubting him, he clearly appears to have a loyal and loving presence in his life that can attest to Mr. Bang never having any nefarious predilection for his students and never intending to inspire any regrettable actions. It’s ultimately a similar reason to why I suggested you should wear a wedding ring.”

Your face heated up once again at being outed in front of your staff member. Ryujin had suggested a fake wedding ring ages ago when you first hired her. The moment you were appointed, parents instantly began doubting you. Even Superintendent Simmons, a parent himself, questioned you at your third interview. How could you — a young woman with no spouse and no children of your own — ever deign to understand what it’s like to raise and nurture one? The sheer stubbornness that you felt in response to that sentiment made you refuse such a placating notion as a fake wedding ring. Chris seemed to notice your embarrassment before he piped up himself, almost seeming to want to change the subject back for your sake. 

“No,” Chris said simply, “I’m single and fine with it.”

“Look,” Ryujin rolled her eyes, “that is fine. Find a fake, then. It just needs to look real. It’s not fair, but these parents will assume you’re a better person if you’re not single in this situation. They need to see that you’re a loving and committed professional who just wants to teach and nurture young minds. The next PTA meeting is this Thursday night. Today is Tuesday, so you have a little time, but not much. Consider it, and I’ll have an optional line in your statement for whatever you decide. Do you have a suit?”

“For funerals and weddings,” Chris grumbled. 

“A sweater is fine then,” Ryujin shrugged. She put a reassuring hand on your shoulder. “This is going to be fine. Let me know if you need anything.”

“You’re leaving?” You realized with thorough embarrassment that you sounded distressed. 

“Unfortunately, yes,” she sighed, “the Superintendent wants a meeting about his son or something. You will be fine. Keep me updated.”

Ryujin ghosted out the door as fast as she’d come, and Chris reeled. “The nerve! I can’t believe her, can you?”

“Yes,” you nodded seriously, “I can. She’s right.”

“Oh, come on!” Chris blustered. You stood back up now, gathering your bag in the crook of your arm and straightening the carefully pressed collar of your suit jacket. 

“I don’t want to see you have to end your career so soon, Mr. Bang,” you sympathized as you pulled out a business card from your purse and handed it to him. “Again, I’ve only heard good things about you until all this. Call me if you need anything. You shouldn’t have to face this alone.”

Things settled for one day. And then Thursday morning happened. Yeji was pale as you entered the office in the morning. 

“John called from his cell.” 

You checked your watch. First period was just starting at the high school. 

God dammit. 

You jogged into your office, grabbed the phone, and dialed him back. Johnny was out of breath. “I have a situation,” he panted into the phone. You could hear shouting behind him. Specifically, you could hear Doyoung shouting behind him. God dammit. 

The tires on your car screeched as you peeled out of the parking lot of the admin building, tearing across town and barely breathing until you passed through Johnny’s office on your way into the building. He was icing his cheek with a cold pack from the nurse, his tie loose and slack around his neck and his suit jacket haphazardly slung over the back of his chair. Before you could say anything, he just shook his head with a disappointed laugh before returning to work at his computer. You walked quickly through the hallway, students watching you from their first period classrooms until you reached the music department. Taeil, the band teacher, closed Doyoung’s door behind him as he saw you in the hall. 

“Ma’am,” the teacher greeted, thoroughly exhausted, “I wouldn’t go in there. We already called a sub for the rest of the day and I took Doyoung’s kids to the library for independent study.”

“Thank you, Mr. Moon,” you thanked him graciously, “do you have any idea what happened?” Taeil shrugged helplessly. His tie was crooked as well, his rolled sleeves uneven. You looked over at Chris’ room, open to the hall. Letters had shuffled off the door and onto the hallway floor. “Take care of Doyoung,” you instructed Taeil, “make sure he’s okay and that he gets home alright.”

Taeil nodded and let himself back into Doyoung’s classroom as you carefully approached Chris’. The room was dark, books and papers strewn across the floor. You cautiously switched on the light, only to find the teacher slumped in his chair at the head of the room, icing his own face with a metal water bottle. He silently glanced at you and sighed as you rushed over to check on him. You set your purse on his desk and gingerly pulled the water bottle away, sharing Chris’ sigh as you saw the bruise on his cheek. It felt a bit gross to still find him so frustratingly handsome in this moment. 

“What happened?” You softly asked him. Chris sank into the chair and gave a dejected shrug, helpless to recollect. And he didn’t get much of a chance to even try, as a commotion erupted in the empty hallway. Doyoung stood fuming in the doorway with Taeil futilely attempting to pull him away. 

“So you are here,” Doyoung grimaced at you before he shot a glare at Taeil, “why are you lying for her? Everyone is treating me like I’m insane and I’ve had it.” He stormed over, only stopped as you turned to press a confrontational hand to his chest. Doyoung had quite the busted lip. 

“Mr. Kim, I know tensions are high—” you began staunchly before Doyoung steamrolled you. 

“Do you?! Do you even know what happened?” He leaned to the side, staring daggers into Chris. “Tell her, you sorry excuse of a—“

“I’m telling you, Kim, just like I have been telling you,” Chris glowered, “I have no fucking clue what you’re talking about! You’re the one who came in here looking to start a fight.”

“You’re a goddamn liar!” Doyoung shouted. You put your hands on his shoulders, making him look at you. 

“Tell me, then, Mr. Kim.”

Doyoung shiftily looked back and forth between the two of you. “Tell you what, ma’am?” he grumbled. “Tell you that I had the joy of overhearing one of my brightest students talking with her friends during zero period, bragging about fucking in his practice room? Tell you that she’s just a freshman? Tell you that I caught her and her friends giggling as she wrote her own fucking letter?” 

Doyoung pulled a crumpled piece of notebook paper out of his suit jacket and shoved it into your hands. You looked back at Chris, his shaking eyes horrified as he was apparently hearing this all for the first time. 

“I admit, I took matters into my own hands. I flew off the handle. Why, though, would I come to you with all this first, ma’am?” Doyoung pleaded. You recognized the helpless heartache in his eyes, hating how much he was losing his students. ���You wouldn’t come to me first if I asked for your help. You’d go straight to him.”

You glanced down at the notebook paper in your hands, catching glimpses of curly, naive confessions, and you looked back at Chris again. He didn’t look guilty. You didn’t want him to be. You wanted this all resolved, as cleanly as possible before you possibly wrecked the year before winter break. You thought fast. 

“I did go to him first, Mr. Kim,” you conceded, quiet yet confident, “and I apologize if my actions come across as selfish, but this ordeal has caused quite the strain on mine and Chris’ relationship, even more so since it’s still fairly new.”

Doyoung backed up, aghast as his eyes flicked between the two of you again. His normally soft gaze was pure hellfire. “You’re kidding me,” he shook his head in disbelief. He had no interest in waiting for a confirmation before he turned to storm off, herding Taeil along with him. 

Chris was staring at you when you turned back to face him, shocked as he was at your sudden plan. “Why the hell did you do that?” 

You pulled out your phone to dial Ryujin, but before you actually sent the call through, you bored your eyes into Chris, who was still wincing past the bruise on his face. “You still didn’t do anything?”

“Never,” he adamantly shook his head. 

“Good,” you nodded. “We will need to talk before the PTA meeting tonight. My assistant will call you with details.” You plucked your purse up from his desk and shouldered it. Chris watched, still stunned as you made for the door. His continued stare made you pause, a hand on the door frame as you turned back to face him. “You’re innocent,” you explained, “but if you quit you’ll be proving everyone who’s doubting you right. It seems like no one is on your side except me, so if no one will do anything then I will. You’ll be fine, Mr. Bang.” With that, you regained your confidence once more to walk down the hall. You caught your breath before you tapped out a message for Ryujin on your phone. Somehow, you didn’t expect her to call you right away. 

“I’m sorry, but you what?!” Ryujin exclaimed, stooping you in your tracks from wherever she was. 

“You said he needs to find someone and make it look real!” You hissed, trying to keep your composure the best you could in the quiet hallway. 

“I didn’t mean you!”

You grumbled out a curse under your breath. “Well, it’s a bit too late for that clarification,” you bit out, “so what do I do now?”

Ryujin could be heard tapping on her cell phone as she spoke to you. “I’m on it,” she assured you, “and I’m sure you already figured you need to talk before the PTA meeting tonight. We need to make sure you’re on the same page. I’m forwarding you the statement I wrote. Hang tight, I’m going to meet you at your place.”

Chris frowned at the suit laid out on top of your couch after you’d extracted it from its garment bag. Ryujin had brought it, on loan from some unnamed resource, complete with notecards of her prepared statement in the breast pocket. “Why does this also feel like proving everyone right for some reason,” he said uncomfortably. 

“What exactly is wrong?” You sighed. Chris fidgeted. He looked out of place in your apartment, his soft black hoodie and worn jeans contrasting starkly with your minimalist and meticulously organized sanctuary. His brows were furrowed with impending panic, but he looked determined. 

“I’m nervous,” he bemoaned, “tell it to me again.”

“We met over the summer at a cafe downtown,” you explained impatiently. 

“That’s so soon for someone like you to be backing up a pariah like me,” Chris laughed, almost on the verge of breakdown, apparently. He was choking down a milkshake. He’d brought you one too, of course, but when you politely refused he took it as a consolation prize. It was incredible to you that he seemed to be in such good shape for how much food he put down. Or, you realized, maybe a catastrophe of this caliber wasn’t very common for him. 

“Put on the suit, Mr. Bang,” you urged, “please?”

“Oh my god, you need to stop calling me that if we’re dating!” Chan nervously laughed again.

“Look, I’ll be just fine, I’ll be able to fix it when we’re in front of people,” you insisted, “but you need to calm down.”

“Calm down? I’m having an entire escape plan thrust upon me and I’m trying to adjust.”

“Well,” you huffed as you found yourself meeting his level, “maybe you wouldn’t need this escape plan if you didn’t take such a lax approach to teaching.”

“Excuse me?” Chris asked, blindsided by your outburst. 

“Don’t act like you don’t know what people are saying!” You doubled down in defense, squaring up against him as you impatiently folded your arms. 

“Why don’t you tell me, ma’am, what exactly people are saying about me?” Chris stood defiantly, toe to toe with you and daring you to follow through. You took the bait. 

“You know exactly what people are saying,” you challenged him, “that you refuse to take the role seriously because it’s easier that way. You give these students too much freedom, and you’re encouraging them to act out. Who needs homework? Who needs textbooks? Who needs seating charts? They call you by your first name and think you’re their best friend, that you’re one of them, only older, just like they wish they were! They live and die by your approval because you seem so cool and you don’t seem like a teacher.”

“Oh, so I don’t seem like a teacher now?” Chris scoffed. 

“They certainly don’t respect you like one,” you snapped. A deep pause coursed through you both like a cold breeze before he burst. 

“Well you sure as hell don’t respect me like one, so why the hell are you helping me?!” Chris shouted. 

“Well,” you mocked, quickly losing grip, “here I was thinking it was the right thing to do!” You heaved out a frustrated sigh, throwing your hands in the air and finally turning away as you couldn’t stand to look at him. 

However, you may have glossed over the in-progress milkshake that had been in his hands, now currently all over his hoodie and on the spotless hardwood floor of your apartment. 

“Oh, great!” Chris laughed incredulously. “I sure look like I could use the help now, Miss Assistant Superintendent. Guess I’ll put on the stupid suit so I don’t make a bigger fool out of myself at my public execution tonight.”

Your face regrettably heated up as Chris frustratedly tugged his hoodie off over his head, his shirt following right after as he fished the pressed white shirt out from within the suit jacket. He had an admittedly nice figure, his toned torso never being hinted at through his comfy wardrobe. A set of tattooed compass roses on his upper arm caught your attention, and you wished you didn’t find it attractively endearing. “I don’t know why I agreed to this,” he ranted, “no one would ever believe I’d date a stuck-up, uptight, tyrant like you.”

“The feeling is mutual,” you fumed as you turned away, not wanting to get distracted, “except no one would believe I’d ever date an arrogant ingrate like you.”

Chris could be heard pacing behind you as he buttoned the shirt, apparently pausing at your mantle over the fireplace. “I bet you were a nightmare as a student, a real grade-grubber and brown-noser,” he grumbled, now seeming to have found your framed photos of you and your friends at graduation, first from high school and then from undergrad. “I’m going to hang myself with this godawful tie— is this you?”

You rolled your eyes as you walked over and snatched his tie out of his fingers to do it yourself. He’d already deftly changed his pants while you weren’t watching. “Sure, that’s me,” you muttered, “and no, I wasn’t a nightmare, thank you very much.” You paused as you felt a shift in his silence and glanced up at him. For the first time you noticed a subtle cologne on him, a gentle musk that was miserably attractive on him and you just wanted to get this over with even faster. Chris was giving you that indecipherable look again as you fiddled with the stupid necktie. From this close, you could see a cute little dot just under his lip, a telltale spacer that more than likely usually held a lip ring and—

Oh. 

Hello, stranger. 

Chris was gravely silent as he parked in front of your apartment later that night. The PTA meeting had been a disaster, starting the moment you left to travel back to the high school, where the meetings were held in the main theater. A loaded silence had staked itself between you the whole drive, and neither of you had reviewed Ryujin’s statement whatsoever. Nonetheless, you sat and stood close enough to each other during the meeting to be clear but not obscene in what you both were implying with your proximity, and you were faithfully beside him as he approached the podium. It was difficult to ignore the hushed whispers resounding through the audience. Chris’ brazen confidence was all but gone by now, fully broken as multiple hands immediately shot up to get a word in. Chris had forged ahead, though, even as his hands tried not to tremble around his notes. Ryujin’s statement didn’t mince words, just like her. He read out how his inexperience wrongly led him to take a more casual approach to teaching, how he’d recklessly and misguidedly inspired his students to put too much trust in him. He read out what a struggle this presented for both of you, being faced with accusations of such severity, and wishing to regain the trust of the assembled teachers and parents. The hands stayed in the air, and Johnny moderated question after question and Chris adamantly confirmed again and again and again that he had done nothing except naively neglect to put a firmer stop to all this. He was the one, and not Ryujin, to say that he should have brought the letters to Johnny’s attention and not simply ignored them, hoping the situation would stop on its own. More hands kept raising. Seemingly every parent belonging to a letter on Chris’ door was here wanting personal reassurance and, subsequently, a reason from him that their children were acting out. It felt like a never ending ordeal, a constant string of hurt and confused parents needing comfort. Johnny had no words for Chris when he finally ended the meeting, putting him out of his misery. Nothing else got done on the agenda that night. He only clapped a sympathetic hand to his teacher’s shoulder. 

You tapped out what happened in a text message to Ryujin. Her diagnosis was optimistic but tough, and in your continued silence in the car, you suddenly realized you were stopped in front of your apartment. Chris was quiet, zoning out at the wheel until you nudged him.

“Ryujin says we can still do this,” you encouraged him. “Enough of the parents should believe you. We just need to make sure the students and staff do, too…. as well as the board.”

Chris leaned forward, letting his head rest against the steering wheel. “I wish they didn’t have to believe me. They’re probably stressed as hell over this. This whole thing is such shit,” he muttered. “We don’t even like each other.”

“We don’t?”

“What?” Chris sullenly chuckled. “Just because we did ages ago?”

“I mean,” you shrugged, “I remembered that pretty fondly. I thought of that kiss all summer.”

“We kissed?”

Ouch. 

You sighed. “Fine then. You’re right. We don’t like each other. You’re cocky and naive and I’m…”

“Uptight?” Chris smirked, but he shut his mouth when you clearly didn’t appreciate the jab. “I’m sorry. I do appreciate everything you’re doing, you know. I just… I’m going through it.”

“I know,” you commiserated. 

“What do we do now?” 

“There’s a board meeting next Wednesday night,” you explained. “You can accompany me to that, and that’ll take care of them. Until then, we keep up appearances at school, now that we’re exposed.”

“How are we doing that?”

“I’ll figure something out,” you reassured him. “What’ll you do now?”

“Oh, you know,” Chris laughed tiredly, “probably go pick up a taco box and try not to ruin this suit.”

You nodded in understanding as you unbuckled your seatbelt and dug around in your bag for your keys. “No hoodies, okay?”

Chris nodded, watching as you stepped out of the car and fussily smoothed your skirt back down. “Do you need me to walk you up?”

“I can manage,” you grinned softly as you pulled something out of your bag. You handed him the offending note from that morning. “I didn’t do this just because I thought you didn’t do anything. This letter is addressed to a Chris but it appears to actually be a student named Christian S.”

“Oh,” Chris grimaced, “isn’t he Superintendent Simmons’ son? I have him in fourth period. He’s one of the first chairs in Taeil’s concert band. He’s sort of… gross, sometimes, about girls. I can’t say I’m surprised, but I’m still disappointed.”

“You alright?”

“I should’ve done something,” he muttered as he sank back into his seat, still staring at the letter. 

“Don’t start with that,” you lightly admonished, “it’s not always easy to know when to interfere.”

“Thank you,” Chris said quietly. 

“Of course,” you said with a small smile. “Goodnight.”

Johnny and Doyoung did a double-take as you walked into the music department the following day at lunchtime. It only made sense to you that if Chris was trying to dress up more, you’d match him by dressing down more. Your requisite suit and heels were switched out for a simple blouse with some tailored jeans and flats. That alone was a huge step for you, considering you even refused to dress down for the annual Welcome Back picnic for the district staff every year. You felt uncomfortable despite still looking clean and poised, but leagues more approachable apparently, proven as students’ passing glances lingered on their way to the cafeteria. Johnny’s look was simply one of surprise, but Doyoung’s was nothing but bitterness. Even Chris, as he happened to prop open his classroom door when you walked down the hall, was curious to see you looking so casual and chipper as you strutted up to him with a bundle in your arms. He was surprisingly handsome, wearing a blazer over a simple t-shirt with some slim jeans and sneakers — better, but not quite there. He couldn’t help a small smile as you theatrically revealed what you had brought: his cleaned hoodie and shirt folded and draped over a bag of takeout to split. 

“Hungry?” You asked sweetly, but hopefully not overdone. A couple of students walked past, their eyes boring into you. Chris looked unfazed, took the hoodie and shirt from your hands and, with a quick look down the hall at Doyoung and Johnny, beckoned you into the classroom with a nod.

“Starving,” he answered with a grin, and even gave Johnny a cheery wave as he promptly shut the door again behind you. “What are you doing here?” He quietly asked you, the dazzling facade of confidence instantly crumbling. His panicked surprise wasn’t lost on you. 

“We need to keep up appearances like I said. It’s Friday, you’re going through a hard time, and you’re eating like you grew another stomach. I brought us something to eat,” you explained, pushing the bag into his hands. 

“You—“ Chris looked dumbfounded, eyes darting between you and the food in his hands, “— brought me lunch?”

“Yes? What else was this supposed to be? I’m your girlfriend, for all intents and purposes.” You led Chris back into his own office and helped yourself to a seat. “We also need to brush up on our relationship in case anyone asks.”

“Fine,” Chris nodded as he dug into his food. “Let’s study, then. I’m guessing you went to college right after we met, and I’m sure you taught at least a little before this.”

“Grade schoolers,” you nodded, “it was good but not for me. I never asked about your accent.”

“You did, actually. That first time, so that’s probably why you don’t remember. I grew up in Sydney, moved here before junior year in high school. Do you live by yourself? I didn’t see a roommate or any cats.”

“I live by myself,” you confirmed, “I gave up on roommates around the time I took this job. No time for pets, either. I guess I’m too uptight.” Chris winced as you continued. “Yes, I’m aware of it; I guess I’m just sensitive. Did you find a good place in the area?”

“Yeah,” Chris said thoughtfully, “cute little house. You should probably see it sometime.”

“You bought a house?!”

Chris’ ears reddened. “Yes? Again, it’s little. A couple bedrooms, a couple bathrooms. Lots of work to be done on it, but it’s all mine. Here, look.” You watched, momentarily stunned as he fished his phone out of his pocket and clicked it open. He pulled up a surprisingly adorable photo of Chris in front of a humble little house, holding what you could only assume was his dog you didn’t know he had. “Cute, right? Her name is Berry. You should meet her.”

“I’m so sorry,” you shook your head in advance, “but you could afford a house? What brought you to teaching anyway?”

“Producing was good, but not for me,” Chris meekly bit at his lip, “I always wanted to try teaching what I know, and thankfully your team brought me on while I’m still earning my degree.”

“So one day you just decided to be an educator?” You asked dubiously. 

“Didn’t you?” Chris seemed more cagey now, more defensive. 

“Sure, but maybe this explains your approach to teaching.”

Chris sighed hard and set his food down. “You know what? I knew you were bringing it back to that. Here I was thinking we were on a little better footing after last night. My approach to teaching came from thinking of what I wanted when I was these kids’ age. I wanted someone to treat me with respect and value my opinion and talk to me like an adult.”

“Right,” you nodded, “but that acceptance clearly looks like an invitation to some students.”

“An invitation to what? The other staff are always saying how closed off their students are, but they’re not like that with me. They’re proactive, they’re independent, they’re thoughtful, they’re excited to be here.”

“What about students who aren’t yours?” You challenged him with your stare. It would’ve looked better in a suit. “Your students are in love with you — some of them literally — and it makes them act out with their other teachers, even students who aren’t yours are citing you as their inspiration. Terrific and capable teachers are being defied simply because they’re not you. Admit this is easier for you than establishing and upholding boundaries.”

Chris listened, but he scoffed nonetheless. “Fine. It’s easier. I’m terrified of these kids but I want them to like me and trust me. But even if I assign them homework and treat them like they’re children, that still won’t solve how the teachers don’t trust me.”

“They will,” you impatiently assured him. 

“Even Doyoung?”

“Why do you care?!” You gave a stunned chuckle. 

“I mean he punched me in the fucking face yesterday,” Chris shrugged. “Is it true you two dated?”

You gaped at him, stunned. “Why do you care?” You repeated. Chris nonchalantly shrugged. “Are you jealous?” You were provoking him on purpose, but there was no use in pretending you weren’t disgusted with this line of questioning. 

“No! We don’t even like each other.” Chris was floundering, now facing his desk more than you. “I’m a naive and arrogant asshole and you’re an uptight ballbuster who sold out, remember?”

“Sold out?” You guffawed, standing up now. “Who the hell do you think you are?! I grew up.”

“Right, well—“ Chris barked as he got up to square off against you. “Did you grow into a stuck-up busybody who is more worried about how she looks than how she’s doing?”

Chris’ ears were burning scarlet as you bristled at his words, but he still walked you to the door as you stormed away. “That was too much. I’m sorry,” he apologized sheepishly before he opened the classroom door into the hall. 

“Go fuck yourself, Mr. Bang,” you quietly gritted out, despite your saccharine smile in case anyone was watching. “I’m helping you and then I’m never speaking to you again.”

You were right back in your suit jacket and skirt on Monday, having stewed all weekend over how much more you hated doing this with Chris now. Worse, you hated feeling like he was right. He was shamefully attractive and smart and funny and charming and as much as you hated it — he was right. Somewhere between getting your teaching degree and getting offered your job, you’d become incredibly jaded by the people around you, but not without reason. Even now, the only people who went out of their way to make sure you didn’t feel like you were some child were Ryujin and Yeji… and Chris. Doyoung had, too, which was why you had dated briefly, but now he had joined everyone else in babying you like you were bound to fail. That wasn’t even mentioning the board, made up of all men from old money who mostly seemed to hire you for humor and bragging rights. Even still, this wasn’t even mentioning Superintendent Simmons, who talked to you like he was a lion with a mouse in its paws. 

So, sure, you had reasons to be aloof around the people surrounding you, but Chris’s nagging was starting to bother you. Yes, you were leagues more organized and fastidious than you had been growing up, and you even took some solace in sprucing up your space, but you also had to recognize you were quick to do that instead of facing problems at times. It was easy to organize the kitchen for the fourth time or clean out your closet, but it wasn’t always easy to deal with adult problems. You took great pride in your appearances, because looking capable helped you feel capable, but did that mean you were? It was difficult to say, almost as difficult as deciphering Yeji’s bemused look on your way into the office on Monday. 

A gorgeous bouquet of flowers was sitting on your desk. You curiously walked over, plucking the small envelope from within the buds and gently prying it open. 

Hello Stranger,

1. Are these still your favorite color? You mentioned it years ago so I could be wrong. 

2. I’m sorry about Friday again. I know I’m a hot-head and what I did was terrible. You’re not stuck-up, and you’re not a tyrant. When I think back to that summer, I thought we were on the same page, and now you make it look so easy while I feel like I’m completely lost and failing the whole time. I appreciate you helping me. Thank you. 

A stiff sigh fell from your lips as you looked at the note in your hands, with Chris’ dumb, nice handwriting giving you a feeling you couldn’t quite place. You quickly paged Ryujin and Yeji into your office. Once both girls were sat waiting for you, it was time for the dreaded question.

“What do people think of me?” 

Both girls looked like they’d seen their lives flash before their eyes as you sat at your desk and did some quick typing. When you showed them your screen, they both gasped. There was you, all acne and unfortunate appearance choices at your high school graduation. “It’s not a loaded question,” you promised, “think of it more as a confirmation. I think I’m trying too hard to hide this person.” You gave the girl in the photo a sympathetic look. She was bright, funny, and brimming with potential — even you could see that. 

Yeji surprisingly sighed out her answer first. “The other office staff were still whispering about you when you hired me. They said you just wanted to hire other young women to look progressive.”

All three of you rolled your eyes at the sentiment before Ryujin piped up. “The board does like you… because they think you’ll do their bidding. They think you’re ruthless. The teachers think you have an iron fist. The Superintendent? Well, you know how he feels.”

A sour grimace pulled at your lips. “Why don’t I like any of that?”

“Is it because it’s not what she would want?” Yeji thoughtfully asked you as she nodded in the direction of the photo on your computer screen. You thought back to what Chris had said, about wanting to be the person he wanted around at that age. It was such a trip, thinking of what that girl would do if she saw you now. She’d give you a belligerent sneer and close herself off from you because you were a cold witch and you knew it. The girls watched as your shoulders softened, sinking into your chair as you pulled out your phone and found Chris’ number that Yeji had fetched for you. 

>>Thanks for the flowers. I’ll be by tomorrow so we can try this all again before the board meeting dinner on Wednesday. 

There were decidedly less stares as you walked down the halls of the high school again the next day when the lunch period began. You saw Johnny try to catch your attention out of the corner of your eye, but you simply waved as you passed his office. You had a sneaking suspicion it was about your outfit. As opposed to Friday’s jeans, you felt much more comfortable being more comfortable as opposed to someone you thought you should be. The pencil skirt remained, only now in a cozier dark pallet and much comfier material. The biggest changes were pairing the skirt with a soft flannel shirt and a smart pair of suede oxfords. You felt exposed in how dressed down you were again, but Chris’ surprised smile as you stood in the doorway of his classroom reassured you. He looked good, his hair moderately styled back and wearing another smart blazer over another old band tee. You could see he was even wearing chinos today, still managing to coordinate them with some worn boots not unlike the pair you used to own all those years ago. It was a good look, one that made you a bit more bashful than you had been already. 

“Hello, stranger,” you cheekily greeted from the doorway. 

“Hey,” he smiled back, motioning for you to come in. 

“Hungry?” You asked, fishing a bag out of your purse and placing it in his hands. He peered inside as you set your purse on his desk. 

“Are these—?”

“I felt so awful this weekend,” you sighed as you leaned against his desk, still unable to keep from straightening stacks of his papers, “and especially after yesterday. I couldn’t think straight so I cleaned my apartment and made you some cookies.”

“You made me cookies?” He asked incredulously before taking a bite. You could’ve sworn his eyes actually sparkled for a moment. “Alright, these are so good there’s no way you still can’t think straight.”

“You’re right,” you nodded. “Just like you were already right, about almost everything. But you left one detail out.”

“What’s that?” Chris grinned around a mouthful of cookie.

“You make it look pretty easy yourself,” you smiled softly. Chris raised an eyebrow. 

“I find that hard to believe.”

“I know you do,” you laughed, “but it’s true! You’ve already done just fine in an industry of your choosing and impulsively decided to become an educator? And you just happen to be financially smart enough to have a house already? It’s reckless but it’s admirable.”

Chris choked on the last of his cookie, his dark hair falling out of place as he composed himself. “I, er, should be up front about that.”

“About what?”

“About deciding to change directions,” Chris sighed. “I had a giant proposal on my hands. I could have had my own company and my own team, but it was a huge investment entirely depending on me and my success. I froze up. I had enough. It felt way too big. I got rid of my fancy apartment, I got rid of my suits and watches, and I just moved.” A sigh fell from Chris’ lips as he folded his arms. He couldn’t meet your imploring stare. “I wish I could do what you do,” he continued. “I want to march headfirst into every single thing no matter what people think of me.”

A surprised laugh escaped you before you could stop it. You covered your mouth as your face heated up. “I’m terrified,” you explained. “Just like you were scared to take that chance, just like you and most of us are reasonably scared of these kids — I’m terrified. I’ve worn suits to attend sports events and picnics with the staff from how terrified I am of them.”

“Well, you look really good today,” Chris beamed at you, but the distracted nuance of his gaze didn’t let it last long. You playfully sat back on his desk, trying to keep his mood up. 

“I feel good today.”

“I lied, by the way,” Chris sheepishly blurted. “I know we kissed that night. I thought about it all the time. I didn’t go out with anyone for almost a whole year, I thought about it so much. If you knew I still remembered, I would be too tempted to get distracted. But I’m getting distracted anyway, so I thought you should know. You look really good today.”

A flattered smile pulled at your lips as you reached for Chris’ hand where it rested on the desk. His hand was warm and gentle in yours and he looked up at you, silently gauging your look to see if it was alright to lean up more into your space… when your phone buzzed with a message. It was Johnny. 

>I was trying to get your attention when you came in. Simmons is here TOURING THE MUSIC DEPARTMENT. Get that time bomb out of there NOW.

But it was far too late. Superintendent Simmons could be heard talking to Doyoung in the hallway. Chris watched curiously as you whirled around just in time to catch them appearing in the open doorway.

“Yes, Mr. Kim, I’d love to hear your plans for the year but— ah, hello, dear!”

You winced at the use of the word “dear” but fought it back. “Superintendent,” you nodded cordially, “what’re you doing here?”

“I wanted to take a stroll through the department,” the older man coolly insisted, his hands in the pockets of his suit. “I also thought I could finally meet young Christopher here since I wasn’t sure if he was accompanying you to the meeting tomorrow.”

“Why wouldn’t he?” Your question was stated friendly enough, even as you subtly waved a calming hand back to Chris to keep him back. 

The Superintendent shrugged. “You know how it is, dear. My son takes his class but I haven’t even met the man before. We’re certainly not exempt from being aware of current goings-on and I wanted to see who all the fuss was about.”

“Do I live up to your expectation?” Chris suddenly asked, unmistakably indignant as he came forward. 

“Seeing as my expectations were of a naive, insubordinate, carpe-diem-prescribing kid,” Simmons smirked, “then yes.”

“Excuse me, Superintendent,” you huffed sharply, “but I do not appreciate you speaking to Mr. Bang that way, first as one of my staff members and second as my partner.”

“Oh-ho!” Mr. Simmons threw his head back with a laugh. “Your partner? How unbecoming of you, dear. Now, I would normally do the professional courtesy of discussing this in private, but as you always deem it appropriate to throw a fit, I’ll do it here— you know we need to terminate Mr. Bang. Too much liability.”

A wildfire ignited behind your eyes before you quickly jumped into action. If you had a moment to spare, you would’ve considered the possible consequences. “Mr. Simmons,” you spat, “you know for a fact there are liabilities just as big, if not bigger, right under your nose, just like I know for a fact Mr. Bang is in possession of a confiscated note containing quite the insinuation that your son Christian is having a very close and troubling relationship with one of Mr. Kim’s most promising freshmen.”

You hazarded a look behind you and Chris returned it, petrified. It was a low, risky blow, but an apparently fair one as Mr. Simmons’ eyes grew wide. He stubbornly shook his head. “Christian is a smart boy who is studying hard and has no time—“

“—Christian turned 18 over the summer and wants to have as much fun as he can in high school before he goes to college,” Chris finally spoke up. “He’s said as much in class, and if I recall correctly, that girl is 14. I can show you the letter. He met her at a party that she doesn’t remember but all she knows is she is woefully in love with him. As your son’s teacher I’m a mandated reporter if I think this is an unsafe situation for either of them.”

“You want to play executioner with a man you admitted you just met? Fine,” you warned. “But just like your gossip, you’re not exempt from this, either.”

At that moment, Doyoung sheepishly poked his head into the open doorway, politely coughing to get the attention of Mr. Simmons, who was now sputtering until his face had turned red. “Mr. Superintendent,” Doyoung timidly spoke up, “perhaps you would like to come discuss those plans—“

“Fine time for you to decide to act like a teacher,” Simmons growled towards Chris, before he thrust a fat finger into your chest. “This isn’t done, dear. He’s on thin ice, and now you are, too. Let’s see how long it can hold both of you.” Superintendent Simmons turned on his heel, marching out the door past Doyoung and towards his classroom. Doyoung leaned into the room, giving you both a look that remarkably appeared to be sympathetic support. “Are you alright?” He quietly asked. 

You nodded shallowly, still a bit stunned. “Yes, thank you, Mr. Kim.” Chris was seemingly dazed as you turned to face him. “Mr. Bang, can I see you in your office?” 

Chris barely nodded himself, having gone pale during your confrontation, and Doyoung silently wished you well before closing the door behind him and trotting down the hall after the older man. You clutched onto Chris’ sleeve and pulled him into his office, guiding him in before you quietly closed the door. 

You realized you were breathing heavily, chest rising and falling hard with adrenaline as you looked behind you to check on Chris. He was staring back at you, almost shocked, even as you gently took his hand again to make sure he was alright. His fingers had turned clammy where they squeezed yours, and you shared a brief silence, recovering and staring at each other until he finally spoke up. 

“You wanted to see me, ma’am?”

“Yes, Mr. Bang,” you nodded, leaning back against the door and pulling him a little closer. You felt a bit lightheaded. “I wanted you to finish your thought from before we were rudely interrupted.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he nodded dutifully, now cutting right to it as he followed your hand in his to press against you where you leaned against the door. His lips hesitated a mere breath away before he finally kissed you, deep and seemingly driven by every kiss he’d wanted to give you since that night years ago. You could’ve sworn you tasted cotton candy and his lip ring again, maybe even smell evergreen trees if you weren’t mistaken by his cologne. It was electric, re-energizing enough that Chris seemed to finally realize what just happened outside in his classroom. 

“Holy shit,” Chris gasped like he just came up for air. “Did I just threaten the—“

Chris’ frantic recollection persisted even as you continued to kiss him. “Did you just warn the superintendent that he is better off tending to matters closer to home in more need of his attention? Yes.”

“Holy shit, I’m going to be fired,” Chris lamented, but even still he let his lips run over your jaw, falling into you and pressing you into the door. 

“No, you’re not,” you shook your head as you cupped his face in your hands to make him look at you for a moment. “He would’ve said so. He knows this is bad and it’s going to be a pain to deal with.”

“Wait, you don’t want me to—“

“Report? You just said you should. Honestly, Mr. Kim probably would’ve already if he read the letter more closely in the first place.” You held his gaze as you led his hands around your waist and he quickly got the hint, wrapping around you and diving back into you. “Am I still a ballbuster?” You breathlessly chuckled. 

He nodded heartily as he nibbled and kissed your neck. “I love it.” Chris hesitated as he pulled away from your throat, almost asking permission as he kissed you hard against the door, his tongue hot and needy against yours as he almost knocked the breath out of you. 

“Mr. Bang—“ you gasped, and you felt him shiver in the cutest way. He seemed emboldened to let his hands get a little braver, following your hint when you led them to the waistband of your skirt, and he fumbled with your shirt as he untucked it and began unbuttoning it. It was a bizarre sensation, feeling so vulnerable to someone you hadn’t known long but had been thinking of for years, and maybe you weren’t the only one. Chris’ breath seemed to catch in his throat as he leaned back enough to see, his hungry eyes falling on you as he pulled open your shirt and became impatient for more. You gasped again as he pushed you back against the door, his strong hands now tenderly roaming down your chest and groping your breasts as he kissed you before he came back to the waist of your skirt again. His confidence seemed to be returning in full now as his hands firmly ran down your thighs to the hem of your skirt, his lips trailing down your chest and nuzzling your cleavage as he gingerly lifted it. Another gasp caught in your lungs as his fingertips wandered up your legs and paused, his trepidation even spreading to the extent that he seemed hesitant to kiss you again. You reached up to gently cup his face, his cheek warm against your palm as you tried to see what could possibly be wrong in this moment. Out there, sure, that was all understandable, but in this tiny office there was no reason for anything to be wrong. 

“Mr.—“ you began softly, instantly cutting yourself off as you realized. Oh. “Chris,” you began, more confidently now, “are you alright?”

He sighed out a small laugh before he finally kissed you again. “I am. I just missed you, is all. I’ve been thinking about you. It’s still hard to believe any of this is happening, so Mr. Bang is going to be fine for my students but I’d much prefer it if you and I are more personal than that.”

“I can do that,” you grinned, that stunted gasp from earlier finally coming back and completing as Chris finally let himself caress you under your skirt, getting as personal as you both were yearning for. His fingertips were firm but slow, purposeful as they teased the hem of your panties but continued over them to feel you between your legs, making you so aware of your heat against his hand. He smirked as you shivered at his touch, and you felt your face heat up. “Sorry,” you laughed breathlessly, “it’s been a while.”

“I couldn’t tell,” Chris assured you, finally gasping himself as you regained your mental footing and let your hand drop, trailing down his chest to get an exploratory grip on his growing erection in his pants before you brought him back to kiss you again. His muffled sighs and moans grew feverish as you teased him through his clothes, up to the moment he pressed your hips back against the closed door. You watched curiously as Chris’ lips ghosted down your chest and stomach until he was on his knees for you, dangerously close to nuzzling your damp heat until you let yourself subtly roll your hips towards his mouth. He took the cue to instantly pull the thin fabric aside, just enough that he could dip his tongue into your folds. 

Chris couldn’t take his eyes off you as he lapped you up, one hand holding your panties aside and the other clutching onto your bared thigh as you squirmed and mewled for him. Your fingers stroked back through his hair as he held you tight and hungrily licked until he just happened to hit the perfect spot. That, of course, was when he stopped, leaning away and his shiny lips pulled into a mischievous smirk. “I need you so bad,” he drawled, “I’m getting impatient.”

“You?” You giggled sarcastically. “Impatient? Impossible.”

Nevertheless, Chris rocked back onto his feet and pulled you over to his desk before he sat you on top of it, gently pulling your knees apart to step between them. “Are you sure?”

“Definitely,” you nodded. “Do it.” 

Chris grinned shyly as he unbuckled his belt and brought his pants down enough to reveal his hard cock, groaning as you brazenly grabbed his length and pumped it a few times in your hand before guiding him into you. You both gasped in tandem now as you were stretched open, and your legs quickly found purchase around his hips as he kissed you again, the faintest taste and scent of your wetness still on his lips. He filled you out unexpectedly, prodding deep into you in this angle and his girth just wide enough at the base to make you whimper each time he bottomed out. 

“God, this is so good,” Chris groaned against your lips, “you’re so good. I’ve thought of this so many times.” His groans and whispered curses were hot in your ear as he fucked you on the desk, and you were both lost in this endless moment while you both sounded like you were steadily climbing your respective peaks until you noticed his prolonged smirk. 

“What’s so funny?” You jokingly accused. 

“Nothing,” Chris shook his head with a breathless smile, “I’m just surprised. I honestly expected you to be a little more in charge.”

“Oh, am I not as dominant as you thought?” You pouted for effect, seeming to only convince him for a second before you kicked him back into his chair anyhow and willingly taking his bait. He watched, his hands clutching the armrests with intrepid excitement as you dropped onto his lap. “Is this more what you had in mind?”

“Actually, yeah,” Chris nodded hungrily as you raised your hips, just enough to pull your panties to the side and grind your soaked pussy against the head of his cock. You both sighed in pleasure at the sensation as you took your sweet time dipping his length into you just the slightest bit, your lips parted to barely kiss him the whole time you teased yourself against him. He actually waited patiently as you barely rolled your hips lower into him, even as he began to get impatient again. “Heh, hey,” Chris laughed under his breath, “aren’t you gonna—“

“Whatever happened to your lip ring?” You asked him, teasingly oblivious to his question. 

“My wha— oh, that?” Chris was almost delirious trying to rock his hips up into you. “Don’t laugh, but I didn’t think it looked very professional when I first interviewed. I already wasn’t wearing it out to events and meetings, so not wearing it to school made sense.”

“I’m not going to laugh,” you smirked as you playfully pretended you were about to kiss him over and over, your lips ghosting over his own time and time again as his cock surreptitiously tried to work deeper into you, “but that’s ridiculously funny. You’re literally still wearing your earrings, and don’t try telling me that’s different. Weren’t you waiting for something, by the way?”

“Was I waiting—? Come on, aren’t you going to…?”

“Aren’t I going to what?” You asked innocently. Chris’ head lolled back against the head of his chair in exasperation. 

“Aren’t you going to fuck me?” His question was quiet, almost as if he were shy to be saying it out loud, but he asked it nevertheless. 

“Sure,” you shrugged casually, “are you going to wear that lip ring for me sometime? I want to see if it has the same effect.”

“Anything, if you’re that easy,” Chris quipped, even as he was unable to hide the excited tremble in his voice. 

“I’m easy?” You asked, eyebrows raised as you finally sank deep onto Chris’ erection and kissed him again. His muffled groan was thick, laced with satisfaction as you began to ride him in earnest. The hot moans falling from his lips echoed your own impassioned whimpers, only growing more feverish as you angled your hips down, enabling yourself to grind your clit down against his lap. By now you were so lost in it that were thoroughly soaked through your panties you were still wearing.

“Are you sure you’re not easy?” Chris chuckled exhaustedly, even as he nuzzled against your heaving cleavage and gripped tight onto your hips. It was his turn to whimper as you desperately ran your fingers through his hair to clutch onto him as you felt your peak coming fast. Chris must’ve not been far behind, considering the way he sweetly groaned your name against your skin, as if to personally coax out your orgasm. 

The air between you was hot, static, and the way Chris held you was surprisingly affectionate. Despite how much ire and sarcasm had been slung between you previously, now you were both rendered speechless, your staccato breaths falling heavy in the spaces between your sighs and moans. Giving in to Chris didn’t feel like giving up like you had been afraid of for some reason. Reality seemed to be that he may even be quite fond of you, maybe even more than you’d previously imagined, despite how much you did or didn’t change. He obviously wanted to do more than kiss you, and now it seemed he wanted to do more than just fuck you. Chris’ fingertips dug into your hips as he thrust up against you, and you suddenly caught yourself meeting his gaze. The feeling was mutual, apparently, the blown out arousal in his eyes probably echoing your own impending orgasm slowly rising up your spine and making your head spin. He seemed to catch this as he wrapped his arms around you, holding you tight and pressing his lips to your throat as he pistoned his hard length deep inside you, the head dragging along your sensitive walls and daring you to cum.

So you finally did. It hit you hard, giving you barely a moment’s notice for you to grab onto Chris, wrapping your arms around his neck as your core shuddered, radiating out to your quaking thighs and trembling fingers as your heightened moans hit a fever pitch. This, of course, was the final straw for Chris, his orgasm not far behind yours as he tensed up, palms pushing flat against the small of your back as he rutted into you with a broken groan. He uttered a sharp curse under his breath, eyes squeezed shut with the force of his own climax spilling into you as you finished riding out your own on his lap. 

It felt like an eternity, wrapped around each other, faces buried in each other’s shoulders as you both fought for breath and you finally realized how cramped it was straddling Chris in his desk chair, the armrests uncomfortably digging into your legs. As if to mitigate this silent complaint you had, Chris gently began to ease you off of him as he simultaneously pulled you to him for a tiredly satisfied kiss. The bright lights in your eyes finally dulled and the imaginary cotton in your ears finally fell out, letting the sound return to normal. You could hear the low drone of the air conditioner, the muted hum of the hard drive in Chris’ laptop, the clatter of the classroom doorknob outside turning open—

Chris heard it, too, with how he bolted upright with you in his lap. You both stared at the door of his office in terror; this was no way for the assistant superintendent to be found, in post-orgasmic bliss with her legs wrapped around a teacher who was still in a heap of trouble, and you had no chance of escape. Footsteps could be heard approaching before Chris quickly pushed at your retreating knees, apparently on the same page as you when he helped you slide off his lap and under his desk. You scrambled forward to grab at his chair and wheel him close as he desperately stuffed himself back in his pants and tried to make himself presentable. A knock came at the door and Chris quickly wiped the accumulated perspiration off his brow. 

“Come in—!“ he coughed, trying to sound chipper and casual, and as if he didn’t just orgasm with you barely two minutes prior. He gave you one crazed look to make sure you were alright shoved under the desk before the door to his office gingerly opened.

“Hey—“ 

Doyoung?

“Mr. Kim!” Chris sat up a little straighter, inadvertently kicking you in your shin in the process and nearly making you curse out loud. You reflexively punched him in the knee, making him jump as he tried to appear natural. “Is everything alright?”

“What, with me? I’m fine. It’s just...” Doyoung sighed, apparently not moving from where he awkwardly stood in the doorway of the tiny office. “Was it true, what you said about the superintendent’s son?”

“It was,” Chris said solemnly. “Would you like to see the letter again?” His question was genuine, any ill feelings towards the other teacher seeming to have dissipated by now. Your ears perked up as Chris leaned forward. You could hear papers shuffled overhead. He still had it? You could hear a piece of paper being handed to Doyoung, whose sigh only multiplied. 

“I can’t believe it,” he murmured, “that’s so…”

“I know,” Chris commiserated. “Will Samantha—“

“I’ll talk to Sam,” Doyoung resolved, “but first, about the other day, I’m sorry about—“

“Mr. Kim, you don’t have to apologize,” Chris insisted, “tensions were high, you were upset, and you were protecting your student. If you’d like to help me report this I’d appreciate that. You’re a good teacher.”

“So are you, Mr. Bang,” Doyoung conceded sheepishly. “Maybe you can join me in the teacher’s lounge for lunch tomorrow.”

“I’d like that.”

You could hear the smooth heel of Doyoung’s oxford turn to leave and Chris backed up from the desk. The sigh of relief you both let out revealed that you had apparently been holding your breath. He slumped back in the chair before leaning forward to offer you an assisting hand. 

“Oh, one more thing—“

Chris snapped upright in his chair, accidentally kicking you again before his knees knocked into the top of his desk. He grinned through it as he attempted to look nonchalant again. “Yeah?”

“So,” Doyoung began stiffly, “you and her are, like… a thing?”

“Er,” Chris floundered for a second. “Yes. Why?”

“Why? Oh, I mean, it’s nothing,” Doyoung fumbled, “I meant, I guess, is it serious?”

Chris’ Adam’s apple could barely be seen bobbing with his sudden gulp from your vantage point, and you didn’t blame him. Serious? It wasn’t a stretch to imagine his ears turning beet red again. Your thighs were beginning to get sore where you were folded under the desk. “No! I mean, not yet,” Chris said, his stammer matching Doyoung’s now. “I want it to be, though. I really like her. Why?”

Your heart thudded against your ribs. You felt like such a sucker, but why did you also feel so smitten? 

“No reason,” Doyoung laughed politely. “I’m happy for you. For both of you. She looks different with you, you know? You look good together. See you later.”

The door finally clicked closed and you both waited for the classroom door to do the same before it was Chris’ turn to let out the breath he’d been holding. He sighed heavily, melting into his chair before sliding back. His gentle hand reached down to help you out from under the desk. You held his hand, his fingers warm in yours as he met your gaze. “Hello, stranger,” he grinned, “did you have fun under the desk?” Chris fussed with your clothes, helping smooth your skirt back out and buttoning your blouse back up before he realized you were staring at him. He suddenly looked concerned, sitting up as he tried to make sense of your expression.  “What? Is everything alright?”

“You want this to be serious?”

Chris almost flinched as he defensively tried to figure out your tone. He settled for getting back up from his chair and squaring up against you once again, arms folded matter-of-factly like he anticipated a confrontation. “You know what? I do.”

“This isn’t even real, Chris,” you smirked, flattered by his sincerity. “We don’t even like each other, remember?”

He let out an exasperated laugh. “Holy shit, you nearly gave me a heart attack. Go ahead, then, tell me how we aren’t real.”

“Well,” you smiled, “you haven’t asked me out, for one thing.” 

It seemed Chris finally caught up to your game. “Fine,” he sarcastically scoffed. “Would you like to go out with me some time?” 

“Sure,” you playfully shrugged with a smile. “How about now? Are you hungry?”

Chris was amused as he pulled you close into his arms. “You know what? I’m actually not.”

[spacebunnywrites]

Fenk8- Denki Kaminari x Male Reader

After hours of having to rewrite this piece, another half hour of tumblr simply not co-operating, and a few minutes of needing to convince myself that my piece wasn’t trash... I present to you my submission to the BNHA Server Collab. Our prompt was plain and simple, Pen Pals.

Pairing: Kaminari Denki/ Male Reader

Rating: E for Explicit. And C for Crackhead Energy

Kinks: Cyber Sex, Semi-Anonymous Sex, Penpal Sex, Dom!Denki, Daddy Kink, Premature Ejaculation, Cum Eating Strangers to Friends to Lovers, Flexibility, Dumbasses in love

Word Count: 2930

QUICK NOTE BECAUSE I AM A DUMBASS- Paladin is our boy Icyhot... dumbass needed a real Hero name and in a fic I enjoy that is the one he chose. And Flashpoint is our favourite boy Touya Todoroki AKA Dabi. I made him a damn hero because baby deserves it.

His username had been Fenk8, of which you weren't certain why. The penpal website was known for people seeking out more adult interactions, but you hadn't been looking for that. Not at first, really. Charming messages such as, "Hey sweet thing" and "If we were the alphabet I'd put U and I together" changed that slightly. The message that made you laugh the most had been the U and I joke. Corny pickup lines were the way into your heart. Of course you had to respond with your own corny pickup line, "Did you just shock me, or was it your electric personality?" Of course he freaked out a little at that, which you didn't understand. Fenk8 got a little wiggy when anything mentioning electric personalities was brought up. So you tried to avoid it. But you couldn’t help that he sparked your interest.

>>Hey sweetness. Birthday cake can be any flavour. But birthday cake is a flavour

>>What is up, hot stuff? The opposite of waterfall is firefly.

>>My sugarcube, the oldest person alive was born with an entirely different set of humans around.

>>Technichally… if we made everything legal the crime rate would be zero. I'M JUST SAYING!

>>Woah, sunshine… if we can't see air… can fish see water?

>>Orange is the only colour you can taste. I'm just saying.

Every conversation started with something random. Something that had you scratching your head, or made your eyes go wide because holy fuck he wasn't wrong. It was chaotic, but you loved it. He also tried out different pet names most of the time. Your favourite was Sugarcube. It was cute and different. You loved talking with him, it was like talking to your best friend. Only you didn't know your best friend's name, or what he looked like. Or what he did for a living. But Fenk8 was your best friend, nonetheless. The friend that had the nerve to ask you who put the alphabet in alphabetical order. But still your best friend. Days of talking turned into weeks. Weeks into months. The two of you had yet to share photos of yourselves yet, and that was fine. He sent you pictures of dogs he saw on walks, of beautiful flowers, and occasionally the most beautiful sunrises. He worked strange hours, often all over Tokyo and surrounding cities. But it just meant you never got the same scenery twice. Once he had been in the same area as you, sent photos of the bakery you worked at. He didn’t know you worked there, just sent a picture of a little pastry you had made. Said it reminded him of you. That same day Chargebolt had come in and bought one of your pastries. The two of you were excited for different reasons that  day. Him because he found out that you made pastries, you because your favourite hero had bought something you made and even came up after and said it was delicious. You hadn't told him about that, you did tell him that you had a small obsession with the electric pro hero. Your potential friend(?) didn't need to know that your favourite sleepwear was an oversized t-shirt from the very first line of Chargebolt merch.

>>Hey sweetheart! Saw the cutest little dog today, thought you would love him as much as I did. His name was Chowchan!

>>How was your day??? I hope you didn't work too hard! I've missed talkin' to ya. Sorry I've been so busy, sweetcheeks.

Attached to his messages was a picture of the most obnoxiously fluffy Chowchow curled into a ball at the feet of… holy fuck was that Pro-Hero Dauntless!? Fenk8 got that close to the Number One hero, got a picture of his dog, and it looked like they were having a casual conversation based on the flush covering Dauntless' cheeks and the adorable pikachu bag you knew belonged to Fenk8 sitting beside him. Just what did Fenk8 do for work that he was chummy with a pro!? Reporter? Maybe he was a PR agent? Or a personal assistant? The last two would make a lot of sense, given that he travelled a lot for work.

<<OH MY FUCKING GODS FENK8. YOU GOT SUCH A CUTE PICTURE OF CHOWCHAN! 

<<you even got Dauntless out of his hero gear, sitting still… a god. You're a god.

After a few moments of silence, your phone dinged with another notification.

>>I guess Dauntless is your favourite pro then? Makes sense, he is pretty hot.

<<No? Chargebolt is my favourite. He's been to my bakery a few times, compliments my pastries. Sure, his quirk has a pretty big drawback… but over the years he has really gotten good at controlling his output. Did you see his most recent thwart of a bank robbery!? He got the emergency backups back up and running using his quirk! And when he let himself be the backup generator for the children's hospital last winter…

<<Sorry… rambling. I just… Chargebolt is the best. Some are born for greatness, others have to work for it. He works for it. He said my Lemon Puffs are his favourite, which is good because he inspired them. The popping candy in the dough represents static electricity! I can't believe that Chargebolt likes my sweets… sorry. I'm sure you don't want to talk about pros.

>>Honestly, reading you so passionate is amazing. I can't believe that someone would be so vocally passionate about a hero only in the top fifty. Ground Zero, Dauntless, Flashpoint, Paladin… even Uravity and Froppy. I hear so much about them. But never someone so excited about Chargebolt. 

<<He is an amazing hero. I watched his first Sports Festival… all of his Sports Festivals really. I really love him as a hero. But ue never does press events, not like the top ten. And I work when he does patrols. So I've never interacted with him outside of work… but man what I wouldn't give to meet the man. I'm sure you have a favourite pro?

>>Honestly, I do. Red Riot is one of my favourites. Ever heard him sing Karaoke? I'll have to send you a video I have of it. Guy goes all out. 

<<Red Riot is pretty cool. But Chargebolt will always be my favourite. 

How had you gone off on a full rant about a pro hero? Especially to your internet friend. He was going to think you are such a weirdo now. But apparently he didn't, because he requested a faceless video call for that night. Something about needing to get off, and hoping you would help. Sure, he was a little more smooth than that, but all you cared about was actually getting to see part of Fenk8. You two had only done something similar once, and it had been through text alone. Now you got to attach a voice and a faceless body to Fenk8. You only hoped you still found him sexually attractive after this. What if he was too muscular, like Red Riot. Or covered in deep scarring like Flashpoint. Not that you didn't find them attractive, but with Chargebolt as the man in your fantasies anyone else would pale. He was your number one fantasy, could you really be blamed though? It didn't occur to you that Fenk8 could be a creepy old man, or a murderer or something. Surely the man who seemed chummy with Dauntless couldn't have even an evil bone in his body. Dauntless was too pure to be friends with someone who was genuinely bad.

So when the evening rolled around you found yourself in just an oversized fleece sweater and a pair of black boxer briefs. Your already straining erection begging to be touched as you looked over the thin yet very toned torso before you. Fenk8 was built just like you imagined Chargebolt would be. Lean and just toned enough to show he worked out. You noticed a faint glimmer in his nipples, holy fuck Fenk8 had them pierced! A tiny barbell in each dusky nipple, catching the light just right every time he moved. Below that was a navel piercing, man did he have a lot of piercings apparently. Because he had mentioned his tongue, and webbing in an earlier message you guys had shared.

"Like what you see, Sugarcube?" You could hear the smirk in his words. And the chuckle he made when you whimpered an affirmative was divine. "Why don't you take that sweater off, I had a long day at work and watching my Sugarcube stroke himself would really make my day." The man already stroking himself. A nice thick cock in his hand, nestled nicely beneath a cute nest of blond curls. Faintly you wondered if you would ever get to sit on it, positive that it would be a perfect stretch. Quick to comply you pulled the sweater over your head and let him see your chest in its entirety. A deep blush staining your chest, lower lip pulled between your teeth. Removing your underwear took a little more courage, your member was not as nice to look at as Fenk8's. You would call Fenk8's cock attractive. Thick, long, nicely curved. You would probably call yours cute. It was smaller than his, and looked smaller beneath your curls that were a little darker than the rest of your hair.

"That's a good boy. Now why don't you stroke yourself for Daddy. Let me hear you whine and whimper for my cock to stretch you out." You imagined a wicked smile on his face as he spoke. Eyes locked on the cock in his hands, mouth falling open when you finally noticed the glimmering bits of metal. A three piece bottom ladder, a two piece scrotum ladder, his lorem, a King’s Crown and an Albert. Eight piercings in his dick alone. Was there anywhere he didn't have pierced?! 

"Y-yes, Daddy." Finally spoken as you wrapped a hand daintily around your length and began to softly stroke. A soft whimper ringing out before you could stop it. You had been pent up all day, ever since the message he sent asking for this call. Already your body threatened to betray you and make Fenk8 think you were some pathetic virgin. Which you weren't! And even if you were… it was no one's business.

"F-fuck!" You whined out and tensed as you came. Embarassed that you finished so quickly. But it wasn't entirely your fault. Fenk8 got you so worked up earlier. White ropes splattering your chest and stomach as you tried to hide your face from him while slowly slumping down.

"That was so hot baby. A few strokes and you're already cumming for Daddy. I'm so proud of you for wanting to make me happy. Want your reward, Sugarcube?" His voice was thickened, dripping like honey as he spoke to you. Opening your eyes you saw his hand lazily stroking over his length while the other reached toward the camera to adjust it. Raising it and- HOLY FUCK. Fenk8 is Chargebolt.

"Hey, Sugarcube. Heard you have a favourite pro." His charming smile on full display, the hand that had adjusted the camera shooting you a finger gun. Your eyes went wide and he licked over his lips. That tongue piercing you dreamed of, the one positioned a little off to the left, darting out and teasing you. The blond kept amber eyes locked on your frame while keeping the slight motion of him playing with his dick.

Never once did you think that Chargebolt would be a dominant. Or have a daddy kink. Nor did you think he would ever call you cumming in less than thirty seconds hot. Yet here he was with a straining erection, his plush tip glistening with pre, demanding you call him Daddy. Honestly, you had never been more aroused either. "Ch-char… holy fuck." Your own words stammered and stuck in your throat. The blond chuckling warmly as you seemed awestruck.

"Don't be like that, Sugarcube. Your mouth has better uses. Clean yourself up. Scoop all that cum into your cute little mouth. Show Daddy how badly you want his cum." Instructions you quickly followed. Two fingers sliding through the mess on your belly and bringing it to your waiting mouth. Lewdly moaning to make sure your dream man had the best show in the world. You wanted him to never end this, and if happily eating your own cum was what he wanted… it was what he would get. Your tongue pushing apart your fingers to clean between them before you repeated the action. Another scoop of your own cum dancing on your tongue. Fuck, were you already getting hard again? You supposed that was the best part of cumming so quickly anytime you got into it, you were always ready to go again real soon. Apparently he noticed you growing hard too, because your next instructions followed not long after.

"Sugar cube, you're going to cum directly into your own mouth this time. Lay on your shoulders, and bend those pretty legs over to rest at your head. Use the wall to help support you if you need to. I just wanna watch you get all cute and cum drunk on your own cum. Can you do that for Daddy?” His instructions weren’t hard in theory. But actually maneuvering your body to make it work was actually kind of hard to do. But after a few minutes, and comments from the man about how juicy your ass looked, you managed to get the position perfect. Your tight asshole on display as well, but Chargebolt wasn’t looking for that yet. He wanted you to eat your own cum. Tentatively you began to stroke your length again, at least you would last longer than thirty seconds this time. You hoped so at least. It would be pretty fucking embarassing if you only lasted less than a minute again. You might as well just end the call, move away from Japan, change your name., and start a new life as a Norwegian sheep farmer or something if that happened. Premature ejaculation wasn’t cute, no one would want you if they knew you only lasted a few seconds. Your soft moans filled the air, and you felt something bubbling in your stomach. Only a few strokes in and already you were getting closer by the second. 

“Cum for me, Sugarcube. Open your mouth and cum on that pretty tongue of yours for Daddy. I love how quickly you cum. I can already hear how needy you are. Just like last time, you get so pink when you need to cum. And look at all your precum dripping onto your pretty lips. Perfect lips for wrapping around Daddy’s cock. Cum for Daddy so he can cum too.” Honeyed words low and sultry. If you opened your eyes you would see his hand flying furiously over his length. The blond trying to cum at the same time you did. But he wouldn't get there before you did, already you were spilling down into your waiting mouth. Groaning at the slightly sweet taste blossoming over your tastebuds. Legs collapsing by your head, your body almost falling off the bed as you tried to right yourself again. 

It was amazing the sight you saw. The blond man, basically a twink in his own right, completely debauched. Chest covered in his own spunk, a dazed look on his face, both thumbs sticking up as he blinked a few times as his only response to you asking if he was alright. Did he always overcharge when he came? Was this normal for him? Part of you wanted to try and contact someone to check on him, but the better part of you knew to just give him a few minutes to recover. Grabbing a tissue from your bedside table and cleaning your chest off slowly, keeping an eye on the man filling your laptop screen. Making sure he didn’t like, die or something. Could you die from cumming to hard? Was it possible for his quirk to completely fry his brain? But then you heard him say something other than whey. At least he wasn’t brain dead. That was good.

“Denki. S’my name. Use it… Kaminari Denki.” Words slightly slurred, but clearly understandable. He was giving you open permission to not only use his name… But his given name. Holy fuck. Of course you whispered back your own name. Letting him know he was free to use yours. The two of you had a good connection, and continued this on for a while longer.

BONUS

“So… Denks. Why the ever loving fuck did you choose Fenk8?” It was Kirishima that asked that while you all lounged on your couch. The entire squad knew how you and Danki got together, apparently he never shut up about you in the beginning. Always mentioning the really cool baker guy that made the best sweets. It was actually Bakugou that stole Denki’s phone and made the request for the video call that night. Tired of hearing the electric blond complaining over how awesome you were.“Heh… Funny story. It was supposed to be Denk8, but I misspelt it while signing up and didn’t notice. Cn’t change your username, even if you’re a pro apparently. If you said it out loud it was supposed to sound like my name. The 8 was for my di-” Cut off by a pillow thrown at him by Hanta while Mina died laughing. You even couldn’t help the laughter as you heard what was shouted through the pillow over his mouth. “-CK PIERCINGS! BECAUSE I HAVE ONE FOR EACH INCH OF MY COCK!”

[dragonrajafanfiction]

Justice Chapter 1: How?

This is a mini series (hahaha mini series... ok) about the MC in the ReWritten Series, now named Uesugi Yoko. What happens to her after she’s left in Japan by the Caesar Team and what challenges is she facing?

If you read, please leave me feedback! ^_^

Yoko Uesugi looked at her phone from the rumpled sheets in a black tank top and shorts. Tokyo was seven hours ahead of Rome so it would be midnight, ‘Caesar Time’. She’d cheekily texted ‘you up? >:P’, but got no response. He probably was awake, but Caesar was the worst texter and seemed to get worse the more she wanted to hear from him.

She imagined him still awake, smoking a cigar and drinking Champagne. In the Takamagahara he used to stay up all night long to work and sleep in the morning. Yoko still struggled to wake up in the morning and sleep at night, even now. Most of her studying she did at night by the light of a lamp, polishing her Japanese reading and script, studying history, and dragon genealogy. On the nightstand she had crossed off 35 assignments. But this was an accelerated pace she set for herself, not something required by the Japan branch. In fact, Anjou blithely told her that thanks to her performance on the mission, she could be excused from classes entirely.

But knowledge was power, and she needed power.

She made an effort not to bother Caesar. Her assignment in Tokyo was her business after all. He had nothing but full confidence in her ability to handle any difficulty that came her way. So it felt like she was doubting him when she suddenly wondered if what she was doing was going to end up well done in the end. 

And now she wondered if she was going to end up dead.

Months ago, she’d awakened at Cassell College after experiencing the destruction of Black Swan Bay. The disorienting change in circumstances was made all the worse when she was subsequently shipped off to Japan to perform a dangerous mission. She learned that the man who had run the human experimental labs at Black Swan continued the cruelty in Japan. Dr. Herzog set up two organizations from a single family group of hybrids, splitting families apart by their bloodline heritage either the stable ‘good’ genes of Hydra or the ‘trash’ violent genes of the Devil Clan.

He ran experiments on both groups and used violent means to dispose of the undesirable results. When he finished his research, he launched a campaign to eliminate the Devil Clan by framing them for wanting to resurrect ‘god’ that is, the Light King. In less than a week, hundreds of people were dead, thousands were injured. And those who survived had their lives torn apart.

Herzog was dead by her hand, but his legacy lingered in the ruins of the Hybrid families of Japan. Yoko’s assignment was to help heal the fracture between the Devil Clan and the Hydra. Herzog’s legacy in Japan was connected to Black Swan Bay and she knew him intimately. It wasn’t enough to just kill Herzog and call it justice. She wanted to dismantle Herzog’s entire deadly philosophy that caused the slaughter in the first place and undo his legacy in Japan down to the foundation.

However, what needed to be done was going to run her up against some very powerful people. She wanted Caesar’s advice, but he wasn’t answering. Yoko put her phone down and got up to get ready for the day.

Yoko Uesugi wasn’t her actual name. Her real name was Russian because that’s where she was conceived. Her dark hair and eyes appeared Asian, however, only her square jaw and longer nose spoke to some other mixed heritage. It was easier to just adopt a Japanese name rather than have them struggle with her Russian one.

The light was already on in the bathroom. A girl with long red hair brushed her teeth in the mirror and moved aside to let Yoko in. Erii was the one who gave Yoko her last name, fully adopting her as an Uesugi sister. Like Yoko, Erii was the result of Herzog’s experimentation and should have been killed by him. She was the chosen vessel for the Light King parasite, the so-called Tsukiyomi-no-mikoto, who could fully assimilate the genes of the dragon into her own body at the cost of her mind. 

She was horribly unstable. The dragonblood in her body was eating away at her. Yoko was in a similar state and together they bonded over their shared illness. Thankfully, they both ended up sharing the cure of the Light King’s fetal blood that saved their lives, but even this was at a great cost. The resurrection of the Light King provoked the eruption of Mt. Fuji, devastating earthquakes, and a large tsunami that killed hundreds of people. Erii and Yoko got their lives back but the scars on Tokyo were still very apparent.

Erii wrote in her notebook and held it up. “Sakura-Kun got promoted. He’s a big man in College now.”

“That’s good news. Tell him I said congrats.” Yoko runs a brush through her hair and yawns. “Hope it doesn’t get a big head.”

Erii lifted up the paper again. “He says he doesn’t know how he’ll manage.”

“I can sympathize with that.” Yoko looks down at her brush.

As soon as Caesar Gattuso, Chu Zihang and Lu Mingfei left Japan, Yoko was approached by the Clan Chief, Nanami Sakurai who had been placed over the Hydra Executive Board by Chisei Gen before his disappearance. Yoko didn’t know Nanami very well other than a brief encounter where she’d furiously slapped Caesar in the face, not knowing it was him. The cold, murderous look in her eyes frightened Yoko into fleeing the elevator she was in.

But after the events in Japan, Nanami was very different. 

Nanami Sakurai had suffered from both sides of the War. Her relatives were members of the Devil Clan. Akira was less than ten years old when it was determined that his bloodline was dangerous and he was shipped off to the prison like schools for the violent. Kogure Sakurai was older, about fourteen when she was sent away. The two half siblings both died because they took Herzog’s poison and mutated. They were both killed by Chisei Gen.

Not only that, but two men she loved among Hydra died to the Devil Clan. The Kotaro of the Fuma Clan and Genichiro Ryoma.

Nanami took Yoko to an onsen and teahouse where they stayed for a week, talking and swapping stories. Yoko told Nanami the truth. The man who separated Kogure and Akira from her family was the same man who provided the poison that turned them into monsters and the same man who sent Chisei Gen to kill them. The man who did that was also the same man who drove Chime Gen to madness by converting him into Ruri Kazama. Ruri Kazama then killed Kotaru Fuma. This same man planted the Kanto Group in Hydra and induced them to rebel, an action that would lead to the death of Genichiro.

The men she loved in Hydra and her Devil Clan family were all victims of the same man who wanted to resurrect the ‘god’. Dr. Herzog.

Nanami Sakurai was silent and numb for a long time, her eyes dull. She didn’t speak again that night.

Once Yoko returned to her lodging in Genji Heavy Industries, she sent her a memo on how she thought the damage should be repaired. Yoko commented that it was important to listen to all the victims to get a full account of matters and collect evidence to document what happened first before making any decisions.

Kaguya the super computer had her core destroyed in the fighting and was still being rebuilt from a backup, but many of the records were held on personal devices and Nanami also sent out neutral representatives for witness testimony. 

Yoko had spoken to a man of the Inuyama family named Chance who gave her a glimpse of the violence during that horrible week. His family was all killed and their apartment block set on fire. The young children were all orphaned and institutionalized. But even that was only the tip of the bloody iceberg.

The Devil Clan controlled eleven of the eighteen yakuza gangs in Osaka, and the seven gangs loyal to Hydra had always been peaceful to them. But overnight the world changed. The gates of the Genji Heavy Industries building opened, black vans drove out in a convoy and the top members of the Hydra poured out. The moment they arrived in Osaka, the seven Hydra gangs launched an attack on the Devil Clan. Never before in history had a yakuza war been fought so efficiently. It was no less than Hitler's blitzkrieg of Poland. The Devil Clan gangs were crushed one after another before they could organize themselves. Seven of the eleven Devil Clan gangs declared their allegiance to the Hydra Yakuza, three of Devil Clan hold out gangs were beaten to death with bats, and the last one was disbanded. Overnight, Osaka became the Osaka of the Hydra

Not only Osaka, but also from the south to the north, all the gangs loyal to the Hydra family took action and spared no effort to attack the gangs loyal to the Devil clan. Either the Devil Clan members surrendered or their bodies were left on the street.

Hydra had almost all the information about the Devil clan, including the illegal transactions of the clan's gangs and government officials who had dealings with them. The police department received anonymous emails with evidence of the Devil Clan’s crimes, and as soon as the judge accepted the evidence, more than half of the Devil Clan members would be sentenced to prison. The officials who covered up for them received death threats. A prefectural assemblyman was suddenly lifted by a helicopter on the highway in his car, flying 500 meters in the air. The terrified prefectural assemblyman received a phone call in the air from Zuo Shang, an old-timer in the Hydra family, expressing his cordial greetings. Ten minutes later, the helicopter dropped off the senator's car in front of the prefectural assembly building, and by then the senator had become a member of the Hydra family. 

But the ‘ghosts’, the unstable hybrids, never even had the option to defect. Even though they had the blood of the Hydra family in their bodies, in order to escape, some of them used potions that forcibly purified their blood. In front of the Executive Board, which was created to kill people like them, they were just a bunch of desperate beasts. No matter how furiously they struggled, their hearts were pierced by explosive bullets filled with mercury. The aces that the Executive Board brought along with them were responsible for pouring the bodies of the ‘ghosts’ into the cement piles. The cement piles were driven into the bottom of the sea to form a neat array. The Maruyama Construction Institute, to which the Hydra family belonged, would build a shrine on that reclaimed land to commemorate the dead. 

The ghosts who did surrender would be imprisoned for life. During the Heian period, the Hydra family set up a black prison in the hollow of Mount Kobe to imprison the ghosts that appeared in the family. After the Meiji Restoration, the family was exposed to Western ideas and felt that the black prison was not humane enough, so they closed it, but suddenly the rusted iron gate had opened again. Very few ghosts surrendered however, preferring death to an eternal prison and that prison filled with their children.

Yoko had stood on the shore of the sea, looking over the rows of concrete piles under the waves, knowing that each one contained the body of a man or woman who had chosen not to be imprisoned forever and a great cold came over her. Right behind her, the people assigned as her escort and guard were the same ones who had ended these lives. Unless there was an investigation, it would be impossible to tell who was acting in good faith to repair the damage and restore the Japan branch to harmony and who would much rather let all the former Devils serve as a building’s foundation elements.

Thoughts of financial reparations and placement of orphans were suddenly overshadowed by the names of famous courts like Nuremberg and the Hague and Gacaca…

The suggestion of an investigation and trial of cruel members of the executive board went over as poorly as she expected. Where in Japan could she find impartial judges? Hydra owned everything, all the officials in the courts. No witness would ever testify openly in such a situation. Outside judges would have to be brought in. Who could be trusted with compiling such a roster? Who would be in charge of protecting them from corruption and intimidation?

The pushback was immediate. The Executive board were respected and highly regarded members of the Hydra. How could they be prosecuted for sparing no effort in stopping the Devil Clan from resurrecting god? Nanami didn’t tell anyone that this was all a plot of one man. They all still believed it was 100% the Devils’ fault and they all deserved to die. Tachibana was their respected and dearly departed leader who died saving his son at Tokyo Tower! Why were the guardians of Japan being held accountable for a war that the Devils began?

On the way home from shopping, Yoko was researching the Meiji Restoration when a bullet shattered the window. Despite there being a clear blue sky and it was broad daylight, there was no evidence to be found regarding who fired that bullet.  It was a warning shot. Only someone who was very high up in the Hydra rankings could have known where she was at that moment. The next bullet probably would not miss.

Yoko slipped on her shoes at the door and checked her phone one more time before stepping out into the hall of the Genji Heavy Industries building.

Caesar had still not texted her back.