#one of the reasons why i dropped these games eventually

[lyrakanefanaticwriting]

a temporary job, or something more?

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pairings: lyra kane x grayson hawthorne tags: assistant x boss au authors note: okay i have never done an au before, BUT i really wanna try one!! basically the events of the brothers hawthorne still occured (the phone calls), but the grandest game doesn’t exist in this universe. also the whole “lyras father” thing is going to be REALLY played down because i dont want it to be a big problem in this universe. anywaysss thanks this is going to be a multiple part series and i hope u guys enjoy it 💖💖

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GRAYSON:

“C’mon, Gray,” Nash drawled. ���You’ve been overworking yourself for weeks. Just think about it.” Grayson sighed. He had been overworking himself for weeks.

His assistant, Sheila, was a kind, 42 year old woman. She had been working as Grayson’s assistant for 2 years, before quitting. Apparently she had gotten a job offering in Connecticut, closer to where her parents lived, and took it to be near them, and to help out her sick father. Grayson had been overrun with work, and simple tasks that Sheila used to take care of for him was weighing him down. And now there was finally time to open up the assistant job.

Taking a sip of his coffee, Grayson tried to ignore his 3 brother’s stares across from him. Their breakfast plates were empty, and yet they made no move to put them away. They simply stared, waiting for an answer. Grayson sighed.

“Fine.” he obliged, biting out that one word answer. Xander and Jameson both high-fived, glad that they had finally worn him down, while Nash just smiled at him.

“Good job, Gray. I’m glad you decided to finally get someone to help you out.” Nash said, his voice honest. Grayson gave him a slight smile.

“Honestly, I’m glad too.”

LYRA:

Lyra rubbed her temples, having gone over so many bank statements and tuition expenses that her head was starting to hurt. Not to mention it was currently way past midnight, and she had already drank 2 cups of coffee. She can’t stay at her out of state college if her brother wants a college fund, or if she wants to keep Mile’s End. And yet her father would kill her if she took a leave from school.

Lyra sighed, going over all her options one last time. The only reason she had continued to go to her out of state college was because she was already enrolled there. Otherwise, she would have dropped out and switched to a closer school. She didn’t have anything to run from anymore, anyway.

She remembered the day all too well. 1 year ago, Lyra was packing her bags for college. She didn’t know how it happened, but suddenly, she was arguing with her mother. And things got worse. Lyra was screaming, uncaring of what she was saying, when the words came out: “and it’s not like you care whether I go to an out of state college or not, or whether I quit ballet or not, because you never even bothered to ask me why!” She remembered pausing immediately, going silent, and her mother begging Lyra to tell her why. And she did.

Lyra told her mother every memory she had of that night, from beginning to end, and by the time she was done, she and her mother were kneeling on the floor. Lyra was crying, and her mother was rocking her in her arms.

That was when her mom decided she wasn’t going to continue to stand by and watch Lyra’s life continue to derail. She enrolled Lyra for therapy lessons at her college, and with a weekly outside of college therapist. Slowly but surely, Lyra began to work through her trauma, eventually getting better and better at controlling the narrative in her own life instead of her past doing that for her.

And the one thing that her mother did that really settled with Lyra was a year ago. Lyra’s mother sat her down, and showed her articles, older websites, anything she could find that showed that her father wasn’t the only person the Hawthorne’s screwed over. So many other patent owners experienced the same thing, losing everything typically at the hands of Tobias Hawthorne.

“Don’t get angry Lyra,” she told her in a kind voice. “But you have to accept this. Rich people do bad things. And your father is just another person Tobias Hawthorne screwed over. But you have to remember that Tobias is dead. That terrible generation of the Hawthorne family is gone. And that new heiress, she won’t do the things Tobias Hawthorne did. It’s not much consolation, and it’s not the justice I know you want. But knowing that nobody is going to go through what your father may have gone through by Tobias Hawthorne… that’s enough consolation for me.”

Her words resonated with Lyra. She can still feel the anger, the frustration when she thinks about what happened to her father. But now, instead of letting her anger and grief take control of her, Lyra remembers that both her father and Tobias are gone. And the only way for her to move forward in life is to accept that.

Lyra squeezed her eyes shut, her brain transporting her back to the present.

A job, her brain reminded her, you’re looking for a job. Lyra breathed in and out, the action something she was used to and calming, and continued to look through job applications. She didn’t need to look for ones close to her college, as she finally decided she was going back home on her leave. Better to ask for forgiveness than permission, she thought. Besides, once she made more money she could rent an apartment, and that would help her make her own choices with her life, ones that helped her keep Mile’s End while also helping her parents get a trust fund started for her brother.

Finally, after 20 more minutes of scrolling through possible job opportunities, her eyes landed on one job in particular that stood out to her the most: an assistant opening for the Hannah the Same Backward as Forward Foundation. Lyra’s eyes widened. That was Avery Grambs’ foundation, she thought, having to fight back memories of her father, the one she created to donate 98% of her money. Then she clicked the read more section, saw who she would be working under in this assistant position, and her eyes nearly bulged out of her head.

Grayson Hawthorne. The man she had called a mere 2 years ago, asking about her father. The man who told her to “stop calling”. Frustration rose in her chest, remembering how quickly she’d been tossed out by him.

She didn’t need his help anymore. She was finally accepting her past. But then? Him abandoning her, him giving her hope and then taking it away, him telling her to “stop calling”? That broke her.

Lyra didn’t know what she was doing then; it felt as if a spirit had taken over her body, because in seconds she had submitted her resume and had applied for the job.

She stared at her laptop with shock at her own actions, and wondered then if she could reverse them. But then she remembered her brother’s college fund, and Mile’s End, and realized that no matter her past with Grayson Hawthorne, she needed this job. It must be high paying, considering there weren’t many positions in the foundation. And besides, Lyra was sure that he wouldn’t even remember her. Each call had been placed by a burner phone, all only a few minutes in length. Those calls wouldn’t deny her this job.

Shutting her laptop, Lyra placed it on her nightstand, and finally went to sleep.

Lyra didn’t know how to feel when she got the message that she had been accepted for the job. Her mind was stuck in a loop of worries, but somehow the idea that she would be working for Grayson Hawthorne didn’t quite hit her until she was standing outside of the foundation, her laptop bag in hand. Then she began to wonder about the state she was in when she applied for this job. They requested that she wear a “Hi, my name is” sticker on her blouse with her name scrawled on, so Lyra did exactly that, feeling wildly ridiculous.

After about 3 minutes of staring at the building, Lyra took a deep breath, and stepped in. She wasn’t quite sure where to go, so she walked up to the woman in the front desk, who looked just as elegant as that entire marble-coated building. Lyra’s heels clicked as she walked up towards her, and the woman looked up.

“Hello.” Lyra said, slightly awkward. The woman payed no mind to her hesitations, and smiled at Lyra with honesty and kindness in her expression.

“Hi there! What brings you to the Hannah the Same Backward as Forward Foundation building?” She chirped, surveying the sticker on her blouse with unfamiliarity in her eyes. Lyra couldn’t help but give her the slightest smile, even if it didn’t quite reach her eyes.

“I’m a new assistant. For Grayson Hawthorne?” Lyra said, trying to sound as unaffected as possible when she said his name. The woman looked surprised.

“I wasn’t aware that he had opened up the position. I mean, I knew that Mr. Hawthorne’s past assistant had quit, but he seemed pretty adamant on not needing a new one—“ the woman didn’t get to finish her sentence before somebody interrupted her.

“And yet here she is, a shining new assistant, all thanks to me!” Exploded a male voice. Immediately Lyra turned to give whoever interrupted this kind lady a mean look, when she realized who she was glaring at: Xander Hawthorne. Lyra didn’t have time to be shocked when she surveyed the two men behind Xander: Nash Hawthorne, and Jameson Hawthorne.

Lyra realized then that her glare from before was still sitting as clear as day on her face, and it looked as if she was judging all of them pretty fiercely.

Fixing her face, Lyra gave them a polite—and utterly fake—smile. “Do you think you could lead me to his office?”

They all shared the quickest look, before Jameson Hawthorne stepped forward. “Sure thing. Follow our lead…” he trailed off, reading the sticker on her shirt. “Lyra Catalina Kane.”

The walk there was mainly silent, as well as the elevator ride, but Xander Hawthorne still found a way to talk through it all, even when there weren’t any real conversations happening.

Finally they reached his office. The first thing she saw was an empty desk area in front of it, clearly meant for Lyra. The second thing she saw was the inscription on Grayson’s office door—Office 301 - G. D. Hawthorne.

Lyra swallowed, nervousness closing up her throat.

“Here it is,” Nash Hawthorne spoke abruptly, his Texan accent thick. “Don’t be nervous. You’ll be great at the job, I’m sure of it.” Lyra was surprised, her gaze flashing to Nash’s. She hadn’t expected him to be so kind.

“Thanks.” she said, politely yet surprisedly. Then she stepped forward, and opened up the door. There, sitting at the desk, was Grayson Hawthorne. She stepped forward, glancing behind her to see if the other 3 Hawthorne brothers were still there, but they were all starting for the elevator. Lyra turned back around, and saw that Grayson Hawthorne’s gaze was now on her. She opened her mouth to speak—and was immediately interrupted.

“You’re the new assistant?” he asked, his gaze formal yet calculating as he swept his eyes over her. Lyra nodded, slightly aggravated but not letting it take ahold of her, and opened her mouth to speak.

And wouldn’t you know what happened, yet again.

He interrupted.

“Good. I was just finishing up some paperwork. I have some more leftover documents, but I can look through those. Though I would appreciate you getting me a coffee.” he said, standing as he rearranged some papers. Lyra’s jaw went slack. First he interrupts her, twice, and now he assumes she can’t look over basic documents?

Asshole.

Lyra stayed silent, stewing in her anger, and Grayson Asshole Hawthorne looked up at her.

“Did you not hear me?” The question was entirely rude, but said with such formality that you would think you were going crazy for thinking it was. Lyra’s jaw tightened.

“I heard you perfectly fine. I just assumed that I’m supposed to be given leave to speak, considering I haven’t been able to get a word out up until now.” she gritted out, immediately regretting her words as soon as she said them. Great way to get fired 2 minutes into the job, Lyra thought.

But Grayson’s expression wasn’t annoyed, as she expected. No, he was utterly taken aback.

Lyra was beginning to feel scared, when Grayson spoke.

“What?” he breathed. Lyra made a face.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know why I—“

“No, not that.” Grayson cut her off again, waving a hand. He still looked shocked, staring at Lyra like she had grown a pair of horns mid conversation.

And then he spoke, and Lyra realized why he was so shocked.

“I know you.” he breathed. Lyra froze. The phone calls.

Each phone call was placed by a burner phone, all less than a few minutes in length and around 2 years ago. He shouldn’t have been able to recognize her voice. That was the one thing that soothed her nerves, knowing Grayson wouldn’t recognize her.

So much for that.

“2 years ago,” Grayson spoke, walking around his desk to come closer to her. “you called me, asking about your father. The one who killed himself, saying “a Hawthorne did this”.” Grayson was significantly closer now, his body only a few inches from hers.

“Am I correct?” Grayson asked, his pupils wide. Lyra gave him a look. He knew he was.

“Does it matter? It was 2 years ago. Those phone calls have nothing to do with this job.” she retorted, not being able to pry her gaze away from his. “I’m not here for some revenge plot. I need this job.” He came closer.

“Are you sure?” he asked, his voice cold—yet quiet, like he was grappling with himself. Lyra was about to defend herself, her eyes flashing, when the door to Grayson’s office suddenly opened.

“Mr. Hawthorne—“ Lyra heard a familiar voice behind her. She immediately stepped away from Grayson, turning around to see the same front desk lady who had greeted her a mere 5 minutes ago at the door. She seemed incredibly awkward after catching the two of them standing a mere few inches away.

“Ms. Grambs wanted me to drop these off. But now that Ms. Kane is here, she will be able to go through those for you, if it’s too much of a hassle.” she said, quickly shuffling into the room and dropping a small stack of papers onto Grayson’s desk, an air of hesitations around her.

“Thank you.” Grayson’s voice was deeper than previously, the rich and low sound of his voice distracting Lyra more than it should have.

More than it could have, now. Besides the fact that he was a Hawthorne, he was her boss.

Lyra went for the papers before he could.

“I can fill these out.” she said briskly, needing any excuse to turn and walk out the door. And she was about to when Grayson interrupted.

“Our conversation isn’t over, Lyra.” Lyra froze. Lie-ra.

“It’s Lyra.” Lee-ra. Her palms were getting sweatier as she had to fight back memories of her father.

“My apologies, Lyra.” he said, pronouncing her name right that time. Exactly right. He seemed like he was going to say something else, but Lyra didn’t give him the opportunity to. She turned and walked out the door before he could speak, closing it behind her and giving Grayson Hawthorne a taste of his own arrogant medicine.

GRAYSON:

Lyra Catalina Kane. Her voice immediately sent him back to two years ago, to phone calls and riddles, to that damn opal ring.

“What begins a bet? Not that”.

It became increasingly hard to focus on work when all Grayson could do was stare out the glass pane of his office, watching Lyra at her desk. His mind was occupied with questions, about why she needed the job, about her father, about what her being here meant for his family.

And for him.

He couldn’t say that he hadn’t thought about her after he had told her to stop calling. But he didn’t think he could pester he about the phone calls any longer, especially when she’d said that the job had nothing to do with them.

Still, to be safe, he sent out a text to Avery.

“Did you perform a background check on Lyra Catalina Kane?”, he texted, pressing send. There was a pause, before the text bubbles showed up indicating that Avery was texting back, and she finally wrote her reply.

“Yes, there was nothing concerning about her. Why?”, read the text. Grayson paused, before his fingers continued texting.

“Just curious.”, he sent back. Then he placed his phone down, his mind going back to the mystery girl who he had been thinking about for the past 2 years. The one who was now his assistant.

Then a brief knock sounded at the door, pulling Grayson from his thoughts.

“Come in,” Grayson spoke. Lyra Kane walked in, holding a document.

“Mr. Hawthorne,” she spoke, sounding as if she were talking to him for the first time, like their past phone calls were nothing. “I need you to sign your name on one of these papers.”

Grayson stared at her, watching her as she came closer. She put the paper on the desk neatly in front of him. Grayson stared at her for only a moment longer, before turning his attention to the document.

Grayson signed his name quickly and efficiently on two different spots, before handing the paper to Lyra. She turned around and was about to walk out, when Grayson spoke.

“Ms. Kane,” he called out. Lyra turned around. He stared at her, unsure of what to say, before improvising.

“Call me Grayson.” he said. Grayson was a bit surprised; after all, Sheila had always called him Mr. Hawthorne, but Lyra and Sheila were different on a multitude of fronts. She paused, before a look came on her face.

“Only if you call me Lyra.” she retorted. Grayson was surprised, not used to anyone talking back as much as the spark in front of him did.

In a moment, Grayson realized that Lyra wasn’t just a spark. She was a wildfire—fatal, stubborn, and more than a little dangerous. He smiled then.

“If you wish, Lyra.” he said. Lyra looked at him a moment longer, before giving him a slight nod and stepping out of his office. Grayson watched her walked away, intrigue clear in his face.

Who really are you, Lyra Catalina Kane?

And despite what he thought, the idea of finding that out was a mystery that Grayson considered his to solve.

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hi guys!!! so that was the first part to my first au fanfic, i hope u guys enjoyed it and if u have any constructive criticism/recommendations for what you might want to see moving forward in the fanfic please lmk!!! <33

[flash-from-the-past]

Glassez!

[arolesbianism]

A small timeline of Chou loops

[goatgoesmbe]

tw : sexual theme, stalking, 141 being a creep

A series : part 2 of Discord shenanigans

AO3

Word count: 2031

rated: E

Poly!141 x f!reader

The New Member

The server wasn’t meant for public in the first place.

It was just something quick Johnny made just to have a little corner to hang out when they were on leave.

They rarely used it at first, finding no reason to communicate outside of work, they were busy with their own life anyway.

That was, until Johnny started sending pictures of literally anything in his daily life. It started with scenery, dogs he saw during walks, and selfies. Soon enough, Simon joined in with his own blurry pictures, then Kyle’s award-worthy photography, and John who sent the most normal pictures of some nice views worth sharing.

Eventually, interacting through the server became so regular that they started using it when they got back on base too– They never talk about something confidential in it of course, they were still professionals after all.

The gaming session was Kyle’s idea (Well, actually it was Johnny but he couldn’t convince them to play among us), they started playing various FPS games before settling for the popular one.

Kyle played casually, Johnny played competitively (and sucked at it compared to the others), John played it rarely but was pretty decent at it, while Simon was effortlessly good at it (Which he was so smug about).

The members consisted of people they knew from their jobs, so imagine their surprise when there was a notification about a new member.

You.

They welcomed you in a friendly manner, showing no suspicion despite John telling Kyle to do a background check immediately. And oh do they like what they see.

Pretty thing that you are, messy hair, pouty lips, dark bags under your eyes that only made you look more adorable rather than off-putting, like a sleepy panda. You always wore comfortable clothes oversized shirts or hoodies on colder days while your legs were bare, sitting crosslegged in your gaming chair with a big plushie in your lap. Johnny wondered if you wore anything underneath which made them go silent. made them think.

Fuck.

It was illegal and immoral, but really– everything they had ever done was all of those things and more, so what’s a bit of hacking into the webcam of a bonnie thing like you? It was done for their own safety after all, keeping their secrets as members of a highly classified military task force. It was only normal for them to check for any individuals that got into their space. Just in case.

Sure, they could just drop it when they found out that you were just a harmless civilian, but they also learned that you were just a sweet thing.. they immediately took a liking to you, adored you, so of course they had to keep an eye on you because they wanted to make sure you were alright. Keeping a civilians safe was part of their job, right?

You live alone, which made sense as to why you have CCTVs around your place. Smart girl, looking after your security seriously. Adorable.

Was it creepy for them to have access to those CCTVs? They just cared about your safety is all, was it wrong?

Well, they didn’t really care if it was, they were in too deep already, addicted to watching you in your own world, from your pretty face looking adorable as you focused on the game you were playing, the chime of your giggle when Johnny sent something stupid, to the way those innocent eyes showed no suspicion when one of them slipped up.

“Not as bonnie as you ;)” Johnny sent one time.

“You don’t even know what i look like XD”

Fortunately, you were oblivious. But still, they need to be more careful in the future. Johnny had a limp the next day and his body was covered in marks that peeked from the t-shirt he wore. But from how he barely covered them and how he still had that smirk on his face, it looked like he would definitely do it again if it would have John sending Simon to punish him.

Watching you had become a group routine. When they weren’t in the same room, they just hopped on the hidden channel Johnny made just to ping each other whenever you were doing something that would pique their interest.

Kyle enjoyed watching you go about with your routine, waking up at noon, cooking up something simple for yourself before you lock into your PC to do your freelance job then hopped into video games. His favorite was when you did your skincare, hand went down to cup the bulge in his pants as he watched you putting on lotion all over your body. His eyes darkened at the thought of him doing it instead, sliding his hand up your legs, lathering them nicely, and perhaps sneaking an opportunity for a feel of your clothed pussy when he reached your inner thighs.

Johnny likes to watch your reaction whenever you two interact, relishing your flustered expression from his relentless flirting. He wondered if you would also be shy under him, squirming as you tried to hide your face while he took off your clothes. He would click his tongue as he pried your hands off your face and gripped both of your wrists in one hand before pinning them above your head, one knee lodged between your legs to prevent you from closing them.

John’s favorite part of your day was when you were working. Tongue peeking out slightly in concentration, your doe eyes shifted and looked sharper when you were focused. He was there when you were in an online meeting with your employer, even though noone noticed. As he watched you talk, he liked to imagine that you were working for him instead. Talking formally unlike how you usually were when you were talking to them, he imagined you calling him sir like how you called your current boss. The bastard that made you uncomfortable with the way he leered at you, making innuendos while you tried your best to keep the conversation professional. You poor thing, don’t worry, John will teach him a lesson or two about respecting you. And yes, he was a hypocrite since he was lazily pumping his shaft under the desk as he watched you doing your job.

Simon rarely said anything about it, but out of everyone in the server, he was a constant presence with how the view count never went below one. He wasn’t picky, he liked watching you doing anything, even when you were just sleeping, he’d fuck his fist messily at the view of you being so vulnerable and oblivious before shooting his cum all over the screen with your face displayed on it. He was the one who would ping the others to notify them when you were doing something he knew they would be interested in.

Like right now.

It had been a long week, you barely had time to do your hobby. Projects after project that got you awake until two am before a quick wink of rest until you had to wake up again at five. When you were looking forward to doing something fun but then finding yourself too tired to even play your favorite game. And then you’d feel bad for neglecting your hobby as you continued to be enslaved under capitalism.

You were tired, sleep-deprived, stressed, and pent-up. At times like this, you were glad that you worked from home. You couldn’t imagine yourself not snapping at people if you work in an office with coworkers. Couldn’t even find the energy to open the server these past few days since you didn’t want to interact with anyone.

So naturally, they would miss you. Naturally, they were very excited when Simon pinged all of them in the hidden channel.

The light in your room was dimmed, but they could see your figure just fine. Panting on the bed on your back, legs spread wide with your hand between them while your other hand was clutching a pillow which you use to hide your face. 

John growled, fingers twitching as he thought of taking it off you so he could see what kind of expression you were making. Instead, he gripped Kyle’s dick as the younger man rolled his hips with the Captain bottoming out in his ass as they were both settled on the couch.

Johnny pulled away from Simon’s cock with a lewd pop. “She could fit mair than that..” he panted before Simon shoved his dick back in the scot’s mouth, gloved hand gripping at his mohawk.

His words got them zeroed in on your cunt which was stuffed with your fingers deep to your knuckles. Wet squelching noises combined with your needy whines echoed around the rec room from the cheap speakers as the stream was displayed on the wall from the projector. Johnny was right, you could take more than that. And from the way you desperately bucked your hips as you moved your fingers that fast, they could tell that you wanted to take more either.

“Does she not have a fucking toy?” Kyle groaned as he jacked off with the same tempo as your fingers as he continued to move in John’s lap.

“No” Simon responded curtly. He would know, he was the one who always kept an eye on you more than anyone else after all.

He knew you didn’t have a partner and never brought anyone home. You rarely go out and when you do, you’ll be back soon enough. A quick trip to the grocery stores or some shops, as shown by the trackers he put in your phone. Low possibility of you seeking out to anyone. Perhaps it was odd for some people but he wasn’t complaining, because he was only willing to share you with the men he trusted his life with.

You rarely pleasure yourself either, which made a moment like this more special. At first, he expected you to whimper out someone’s name, a crush they didn’t know about perhaps. Fortunately, that never happened. You seem content with yourself like this, eyes closed as you focus on the way you curl your fingers and grind your palm against your clit.

But they could tell you wanted more. They agreed that you deserved more. They could give you more.

Your whole body tensed, a shudder rippled through your body as heat built in waves. Breath hitching as you gasped, soft at first before breaking into a moan, raw and unrestrained. Fingers clutching at your pillow, muscles tightening as pleasure peaked, your back arching instinctively.

A flush spread across your skin, a sheen of sweat caught the light. Eyes fluttered to a close, lips parted, as a final tremor coursed through your body before you melted into the afterglow, breathless and trembling.

Yet, your cunt still clenched around your fingers as you pulled them out, like it didn’t want to let them go, because you still wanted more. You whined, and they groaned at the expression on your face. Unsatisfied, but too tired to do anything about it.

After a moment of gathering your jumbled mind, you got up and headed to the bathroom for a shower. And while they knew it was impossible, they wished you had a camera there too.

As the men chased their own pleasures, they thought to themselves about how they could help. You were physically nowhere near them at the moment, and they didn’t want to scare you by being too upfront in the server. Didn’t want you to know what they had been doing behind your back.

The next day, an onslaught of sex toy ads kept popping up when you turned on your PC. It obviously pissed you off at first (especially with how one appeared when you share your screen during a work meeting), but eventually it made you consider getting one. And if you got a transfer to your bank account in the same amount you spent on it right after, if you received four dildos instead of one, they totally had nothing to do with it. Nope, they totally didn’t send you the exact copies of their cocks.

Next (soon)

A/N: I remember someone saying 'How are you gonna get a guy if you never leave your house' and this is my answer to that also, this series was supposed to be fun silly online friends story, so idk what happened here, I swear the story wrote itself I had nothing to do with it

open taglist : @partiallysame, @niazrzl, @iiriam, @sweetlike-sugarplum, @mordacioust, @boogeysmoth, @little-mini-me-world, @sxnshinebxcky, @lady-red-night-1234, @theycallmevalen, @z-wantstowrite, @c-moon20-12, @glitteryarcadefart, @purple-snowfox, @shylahstarzz, @mestrecadumaverick, @thereofrin, @crappity-craps-crap, @rottensage, @sirbonesly, @shinebright2000, @kittygonap, @savas-q1, @just-pure-trash, @sheep-from-rad, @wolfbc97, @dont-mind-me-just-existing-sadly, @lucienofthelakes

[angelfishe]

𝐒𝐐𝐔𝐈𝐃 𝐆𝐀𝐌𝐄 || 𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐍 𝐀𝐔

<< yandere VIP genshin men x reader >>

Character : zhongli, childe, ayato

When you enter the squid game to pay off your debt, you didn't realize your gonna be playing a life and death game as well meeting some old faces

Warning : slight mention of non-con intimacy

( This is something i wip out in the middle of the night sorry if it's bad )

# ZHONGLI

the owner of the liyue cooperation, a multi billion company

- You were married to him but got divorce because how possessive he was, he wouldn't let you go anywhere without body guards saying this world is dangerous. You will be better with him and you feel trapped inside the marriage so you eventually divorce him.

- the reason why you were in the squid game was because after the divorce you were staying with your mother who got herself in debt. So you take multiple jobs to pay off the debt, until a business man approaches you offering for you to play a game to pay off your debt.

- you manage to survive until the marble game where your partner decides to betray you, you thought you were gonna die until the soldiers of the game drag you into a luxurious room and In front of you was a man wearing a gold reindeer mask, he took it off revealing it's your ex husband

reader : "zho- zhongli"

Zhongli : " I told you my love, this world is a dangerous place and you would be safe with me, you don't need to worry about anything"

He proceeds to hug you

Zhongli : "I pay off your mother's debt as long as you promised you'll be mine again"

# CHILDE

A VIP that decided to play the game for fun

- you met him during the game the red light and green light game, you find it oddly weird that he seems to be enjoying it and as well having fun not bothering people are dropping dead.

- you manage to get along with him as well learning about his past and family, he seems to be fond of his little brother Teucer. He odly seems to recognize you ,Unfortunately he decided to sacrifice himself for you to live in the marble game.

- during lights out, you were dragged by the guards towards somewhere, you were struggling thinking you would die without saying goodbye towards your family, but instead you were put in a bedroom with a man in a red and black suit wearing a gold jaguar mask, saying if you want to leave the game you have to serve him in a way.

??? : "I'm surprised you don't recognize me and remember me"

Reader : who are you exactly

Childe : ( he took off the mask ) "it's me childe sweet heart, during childhood you and I were best friends and I promised you to marry you, don't worry sweetheart you don't have to worry about anything anymore cause after this let's fulfill the promised and get married"

#AYATO

Head of the most prestigious clan in the country as well the head of the yashiro prefecture

- former master of yours, you were his servant as well childhood friend but unfortunately stop serving his family because your grandfather has fallen with an Illness, you have to take care of him 24/7 meaning you to stop serving him. He tried everything to convince you not to leave but you still left.

- unfortunately the hospital bill has gotten worse and you eventually found yourself drowning in debt, until you were eventually invited into the squid game, unaware he planned this to happen, he's actually been stalking you looking for an opportunity to bring you back in his arms.

- you were Carried away by the guards when no one wants to partner with you, and you land yourself and kneel in front of a man with a gold owl mask. And he grabs your chin to look him straight to the eye and you recognize who's under the mask.

Reader : "master kamisato"

Ayato : "A clever girl manages to recognize me, that's my ( reader ) always able to recognize me"

Reader : why are you doing here

Ayato : "isn't't it obvious for you, I've been waiting for this moment for years and finally you're mine"

[bratbby333]

gamer!bf sukuna drabble

·:*¨༺ nsfw mdni ༻¨*:·

gamer!bf sukuna who is always sat at his desk, shooting at something

gamer!bf sukuna who will lose track of time and play for hoursss, not even acknowledging your existence until you interrupt his game play with dinner

gamer!bf sukuna who buys you your own gaming set up after catching you playing on his computer when you think he isn't home (he positions your new monitor and gaming chair right next to his)

gamer!bf sukuna who laughs in your face when you ask if he wants to play minecraft with you (how dare you recommend something that isn't violent? silly little thing. do you even know him?)

"so childish... why the fuck would i play that?"

gamer!bf sukuna who feels bad after you pout at him for making fun of you, reluctantly agreeing to play fortnite (the tamest game he'll play)

gamer!bf sukuna who is never not yelling at someone through his headset

"you stupid fuck! ask your mother how my dick tastes"

gamer!bf sukuna who loves when you pull up a chair to watch him play

gamer!bf sukuna who let's you sit in his lap, the controller in your hands with his hands over yours, pushing the buttons for you... the elated grin on your face when you finally kill someone makes his dick hard

"baby! i did it! i got him!" "that's my good girl, now let me reward you"

gamer!bf sukuna who loves that you play animal crossing at your desk next to him while he plays cs:go and valorant, you eventually put on your noise canceling headphones because he won't stop screaming

"what the actual FUCK was that? you're trash. GET OUT OF MY LOBBY"

gamer!bf sukuna who finally agrees to play minecraft with you after weeks of begging, enjoying it more than he thought he would (the face you make when he finally says yes causes his heart flutter just a little bit... but he'll never tell you that, constantly groaning at how boring it is, but playing it with you for three hours)

he runs around killing creepers and skeletons to quell his homicidal ideations instead of helping you build a house "why the hell would we build a fake house when we're literally sitting in our real one?" so fucking sassy for no reason he'd run around collecting a mob of enemies instead, luring them into a pit before sealing it off and dumping a bucket of lava on them, laughing as they slowly burn to death...bro is insane i stg...

gamer!bf sukuna who let's you wear his headset while he plays a 1v1 in a custom lobby, laughing at his opponents obvious anger and frustration thinking they're losing to you (COD is so misogynistic, and sukuna is thoroughly amused when he gets to put them in their place on your behalf)

gamer!bf sukuna who beams with pride when you start picking up on gaming terms

"that guy sucks, he's just camping", you say, brows furrowed in annoyance. "who the fuck did you learn that word from?" "who do you think i learned it from, dumbass?" you retort, a taunting smile on your lips. he just grins, "god, you're so fuckin' sexy. but drop the attitude before i fuck it outta you."

gamer!bf sukuna who attempts to teach you how to play call of duty, battlefield, and cs:go

"you'll get better, doll. just keep tryin'"

gamer!bf sukuna who refuses to admit that he actually enjoys playing minecraft with you, hoping you'll suggest to play it first

gamer!bf sukuna who looks down from his monitor to see you kneeling under his desk, head between his legs, sucking him off while he's on discord talking to his friends; tangling his hands in your hair, biting the inside of his cheek when you deepthroat him unexpectedly, his hips bucking off his chair. "you dirty fuckin' girl, it's like you want them to hear" he moans out. his friends erupt in laughter after hearing him, but he doesn't want you to stop. exhibitionist!sukuna has entered the chat

"you can stay and listen if you want, at least im gettin' some unlike you virgins"

gamer!bf sukuna who fucks you rough when he loses a game

"god you're so fuckin' tight for me" he groans, his grip tight on your hips. he looks down to watch your pretty pussy suck him in. you squirm, his cock burying itself deeper and deeper inside you with every trust, whining as he pushes your head into the mattress, his strokes unrelenting. "uh uh. don't move...stay right fuckin' there n take this dick, brat."

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

author notes: hehehe...this was super fun to write. if you have any requests, send them here! if u wanna be added to my anon club, drop an emoji with ur submission and ill add u to my pinned post ☺︎

i've already written longer, smut-filled stories of gamer!bf sukuna,,u can read them here and here and here

thank u liking, commenting, and reblogging...it makes me kick my feet n giggle when i get the notification ♡

© bratbby333 on tumblr. all rights reserved. please do not distribute. 2024.

[cryinggirlnamedhelen]

i see the light.

ft; nagi seishiro, michael kaiser, isagi yoichi

synopsis: the moment when it was only you and him in the world.

nagi seishiro

the sound of persistent hums of the heater and tappings of thumbs to screens on nagi’s phone soothed you.

due to the harsh and frankly unexpected winter, the power had went out in the school dorms. you had been horrified; it was dark out, you couldn’t even see in your dorm, and you were alone. if only you still lived with your parents like reo instead of deciding to live in the crappy school dorms because you wanted to be more mature.

when you thought of reo, that’s when a brilliant idea had wove its way into your mind. you could just go to nagi’s dorm instead! he’s too much of a pacifist to get angry at you, he lived close, and he’s got a nice heater too. you had silently crept out of your room and into nagi’s room, knowing that he thought that it was too much of a hassle to lock the door.

now you were lying down next to nagi’s figure, who was sitting up and clicking away at the buttons on his phone from the game. nagi was quiet; he could tell that you were cold and tired, and he didn’t feel the need to bother you any further. plus, it would be a hassle to.

well, that was until nagi heard the soft snores.

“hey, hey.” nagi placed his phone face down next to him, leaning down to look at you. locks of your hair was in your face, a small line of drool at the corner of your lips. “you’re asleep? hey. it’s too much of a hassle to move you away. and there’s only one bed.”

at your lack of response, nagi poked your arm. no reponse. he your cheek. still no response. nagi eventually decided to stop and just pull an all nighter; the leaks of the sequel to his favorite game was coming out tonight anyways.

nagi looked at you for a little longer, his eyes lingering at your face before zeroing in at your lips. “you’re not that bad when you’re asleep.” nagi mumbled. his eyes softened; he didn’t mind this. sure, it was a hassle for someone else to sleep in his bed, but this was you. and for some strange reason, nagi’s chest felt all warm and tight. he didn’t understand this, but the feeling was addicting, and he wanted more.

the lights and power may have been out, but the light that you beamed was enough to light up his entire world.

michael kaiser

kaiser knows that having been put in jail at age 15 definitely necessarily scream “im such a good influence and good person!” to most people.

most people.

kaiser knows that you’re not most people when he is let out of jail—due to the efforts of ray dark—and you’re right outside sprinting towards him and tackling him with a bear hug. sobs escaping you as you squeezed him. “mihya! god, you’re back! i was so worried for you in there!”

kaiser was in love with you. when you laughed, warmth pooled at his stomach and happiness filled his veins. but when you cried, kaiser felt the need to kill whatever is making you cry, to make you smile again. but kaiser didn’t know that it was love. he didn’t know that what he was seeking had been in you, his childhood best friend, all along.

“you…you’re here. why? i was in jail.” kaiser muttered. “shouldn’t you be in school or something? you shouldn’t be here.” at that, your jaw dropped, and you stepped back, hands gripping his shoulders.

“mihya! what are you saying? i could care less about day or two of school when my literal best friend is in jail for something that he didn’t even do! you worried me to death, mihya!” your eyebrows knit together, looking up at him. kaiser noticed how pale you were, the dark eyebags under your beautiful eyes as if you haven’t slept in days.

suddenly, kaiser felt as if a weight heavier than his father was on his shoulders. you didn’t sleep because of him. you looked so pale because of him. you were upset because of him. kaiser felt doubts cloud his mind again; at the end of the day, he really was no different from his father. “just because im your best friend? that’s stupid. im not worth that much.”

your eyes widened before they narrowed, and you grasped onto his shoulder tightly. kaiser knew this would leave a mark later, although he could care less. you should leave. you shouldn’t be here. you should be at school. you shouldn’t waste your life on a piece of shit like him. you deserve better than a fucked up subhuman like him. you glared at him, your hands trembling from how tightly your grip was on his shoulder. from that alone, kaiser knew that he fucked up.

“michael fucking kaiser, you’re my best friend and the love of my life, and you better not say that again. you are worth it. you are most definitely worth each and every moment of my time. you hear me?!” you shook kaiser back and forth. but kaiser couldn’t focus on your current actions, a phrase that you had called him of all people was tattooed onto his mind.

love of your life.

he was the love of your life.

and suddenly, kaiser wasn’t subhuman. he wasn’t a piece of shit. he wasn’t an accident. he wasn’t hated by everyone. he wasn’t weak. he wasn’t not worth it.

he was loved. loved by you.

and kaiser will be grateful for that even in the afterlife.

isagi yoichi

blue lock had changed isagi.

at least, that was what everyone said. his parents, his classmates, his former soccer teammates, his friends, even isagi himself. but not you. you didn’t say that or think that. blue lock didn’t change isagi, it had instead just awakened something hidden inside of isagi.

that might be why your reaction to isagi’s goal at the end of the blue lock fetuses u20 japan match was so underwhelming. you were his lover; you should have been more enthusiastic about it. instead, you only stared down mindlessly before smiling and clapping. isagi had looked up at you with a smile when he was celebrating with his blue lock teammates, in which you had waved at.

then came the 2 week break.

you had been on a walk with isagi like old times, before he had left for blue lock. a heavy silence was over your shoulders; isagi himself thinks that he’s changed, after all. the sunset painted your’s and isagi’s cheeks bright red.

“do you mind that i’ve changed?” isagi finally stammered out. he braced himself for some harsh answers and disapproving shaking of heads, but was instead met with more long silence before a single word.

“no.”

he glanced at you, shocked. “i don’t think you’ve changed at all, yoichi. im glad. i don’t think i’ve ever seen you this happy to be playing soccer.” you looked up at him, a soft smile playing at your lips. “it just awakened something inside of you.”

but isagi wasn’t satisfied. not yet. “you don’t mind that im practically throwing my life away for my soccer career? i won’t be able to just call or text you whenever i want to at blue lock, you know.” you giggled gently before sighing.

“i know you can’t, yoichi. but you’re happy, right? and you’re living your best life right now. so who am i to interfere? as long as you’re happy, then you can be whatever or whoever you want to be. i’ll always be there.”

at your words, the ice in your tension melted before isagi looked at you once again. even without the golden setting sun, you still looked like you were an angel, glowing with the most ethereal of purity and the most precious of love.

a/n: title is obviously from the tangled song. i literally love that song so much oh my god.

[tianshanb]

A head canon of mine that baby damian was ALLOWED to be a baby. Just with extra assassin trianing.

Like you know those parents that start their kids on sports, or languages, or instruments as babies etc. Talia just started him on assassin training early. But he's just a baby

Cue dmaian walking into training with a pacifier and clutching a blanket.

Just imagine damian with a tiny wooden sword copying the moves of his instructor. Once it's break time, he toddles to the other corner of the room where he plops down on a bunch of pillows and blankets waiting for him, and most importantly, his bottle. Training is tiring he needs a drink 😤

He may also take a nap mid lesson cz he's just a babyyyyy. He brings his favorite plushie to "watch him" when he train. Instead of playing house he plays secret assassin mission with the toys.

As he grows older. 4 to 6 years old. The pacifier is gone by then, and he no longer brings his toys. The new instructor seeing this mature soul in a child body confidently walking up to you with their nose turned up... the illusion is shattered when they open their mouth and half their teeth are missing. Then, mid trianing damian take a drink from their sippy cup thats batman themed (it was a gift from his mama from her latest mission).

Yep just a child.

7 years old is when his training gets super hard. That's the age where your viewed as starting to mature.

I imagine at this age where Ra's is like finally he's old enough to start his real trianing, and Talia is no longer the one responsible for him. This continues to increase in difficulty until he's 9. And shaped off to batfam.

But hoenstly:

Sword trianing?? Imagine this aggressive toddler swinging this sword around. A thing about babies is they LOVEEE swinging shit around, hitting things, throwing things. So training would BE fun.

Eventually he'd had to learn how to break his fall, how to get tackled, etc. Dmaian just sees it as a game and it makes him giggled. KIDS enjoy being tossed around. Like roughhousing is a thing for a reason, the same reason why people throw babies in the air when they play with them.

When he goes to the batfamily. He's just a random 9 year old. One thing about why I can never take the little guy seriously is no matter how intimidating and scary you wbat to seem... your voice will still be that of a child. Another hc is when he's angry he gets on his tippy toes cz he's soo tinyyy. I imagine an argument geting super heated and finally dmaian doing on his toes and suddenly whoever he's arguing with can't take his seriously cz he smol, like this big 👌, and missing some teeth. He has a bed time and can't watch horror movies, like seriously are u arguing with him?

Another thing is Talia had limited screen time and access to devices and technology. She also had parent control on every device. Bruce just does not have that. Dmaian is going to Bruce, and being excited, he's old enough to use a device without parental supervision, or the parent app is so excited that he's seen as a grown-up! (In reality, Bruce just firgot. He never had kids this young with smartphones existing). He's bragging to tim about it one day when bruce overheard, and he's like, hold up a minute.

Extra:

This idea came to me once my friend told me about a student she has. Me and her are tutors and she tutors math. At her centre, there is no specific grade, everyone just advances through the levels as long as they pass the previous level.

In her group, there is this 2 year old toddler who's parents put in tutoring since he was 18 months old. This baby is dropped of by his parents, walking in with a pacifier in his mouth with the clip on to shirt thing. Sometimes in his pj's and sometimes clutching his 'blankie'.

This little dude does advanced algebra. That's right HIGHCHOOL LEVEL ALGEBRA.

He's barely toilet trained 😭 and he asked for help to go to the bathroom, his grip on the pencil is shaky, he still baby talks... but I bet he's better than u at maths.

[yeostinys]

My Dear Darling

Chapter 1

Pairing: Frat OT8!ATEEZ x Female Reader

Genre: Eventual Smut 18+, Fluff, Angst, Polyamorous Relationship!

Notes: NonIdol!AU, CollegeAU. Alcohol consumption, mentions of smoking, Explicit language. Polyamorous Relationship, (if you are not into that just pls ignore).

Word Count: 3.4k

Synopsis: It’s your last year in university and everything seems normal until one night at a party you are approached by a fraternity that seems like they are up to no good.

Author’s note: This is pure imagination and in no way depicts any characters in real life. If you do not like this type of content please ignore :)

next chapter

———————————————————————

Jia: “Are you coming over later?”

Y/N: “I’m not sure. I’m kind of partied out”

Jia: “Oh please Y/N . you flaked on the last 2 parties i mentioned!”

Y/N: “You make me sound like a bore Jia.”

Jia: “That’s not what i’m trying to say!! You have been locked up in your apartment and the library forever! are you punishing yourself?”

Y/N: “It’s our last year in University Jia! I want to preform well on exams!”

Jia: “Y/N, you are literally one of the top students in our university. You’ve been doing well! Now, as my best friend it’s your duty to come to MY party, that IM hosting. Pleaseeee for meeeee”

Y/N: “ughhhh fine i’ll be there”

Jia: “YAYY! I’LL SEE YOU LATER!”

-

Arriving at Jia’s , you are greeted with hugs from familiar faces around campus.

“Y/N~! You’re hereeeee!” Jia exclaims as she hands you a hard seltzer, she already seems a few shots away from being drunk. You laugh at your friend and take the drink in your hands.

“Alright everyone! Three gulps! Thank you all for coming!!” Jia screams as everyone in the house cheers. You take three gulps with ease and feel the burning alcohol run down your throat. The night begins with loud music playing through the house, people cheering and screaming as they play various drinking games, couples making out, you name it.

Within an hour of you here, Jia has ran off with her situationship, she’s currently shoved into a corner making out. You however moved outside to sit by the fire pit along with the rest of your closest girl friends. You’re laughing with everyone talking about various topics, while sipping your alcohol infused drinks. Trying to embrace the positive atmosphere around you.

“Hey Y/N” a voice lingers in your ears.

You look up and meet eyes with a familiar handsome face.

“Hey Wooyoung, what’s up?” you smile at him. Wooyoung is a very well known member of the fraternity ATZ with a reputation of being the biggest flirt ever.

“Nothing much. I however wanted to get your number” Wooyoung is direct. He’s now sitting next to you and slings his arm over your shoulders.

“And why is that?” you raise your eyebrow at him.

“Does there need to be a reason why? I just want to get to know you more” Wooyoung smirks as he brushes a hair strand out of your face. You roll your eyes unimpressed. You can hear giggles from the girls around you as they try to carry on their conversations, trying to not make it obvious that they’re eavesdropping.

“No thanks Woo. however, you can talk to one of your many girls on your line” you smile at him sarcastically.

“But what if I don’t want any of those girls?” Wooyoung pouts at you. You scoff and take a swig of the hard seltzer in your hand.

“Bye Woo” you say as you turn back to talk to your friends. Wooyoung smirks and drops his head down. He gets up swiftly and turns to you one last time

“Alright no worries. I’ll see you around pretty”. Wooyoung walks away and you make eye contact with your giggling friends around you.

“Y/N omg! he was totally into you!” Mina exclaims grabbing onto your shoulder.

“Oh please, Wooyoung is into everyone.” you say as you laugh with everyone.

A few moments later you feel another body plop down next to you.

“Hey there Y/N-ah~”

You turn to look person next to you and you release a sigh.

“Hi there Mingi” You smile politely at him, trying to hide your annoyance. Another.. boy from ATZ. It is a well known fact that Mingi is one of the hottest boys in school. You even agree to that statement. But why is he here? and Why was Wooyoung just here a few minutes before him?

“What can I do for you Mingi?” you ask in a sarcastic manner.

“Funny that you ask sweetheart. Wanna go over there for a smoke?” Mingi smirks, eying you up and down.

“I don’t smoke” you say firmly.

“Then i’ll stop smoking for you. How about a shot together?” He asks holding out a hand.

“I already have a drink right here thanks though Min” You giggle at his efforts.

“Why playing so hard to get Y/N-ah?” Mingi sighs as he rests his head on his fist propped up by his elbow.

“I’m not playing anything Mingi.”

“How about your number then?” Mingi tries you one last time. You look at Mingi in an amused but confused face. Why is he suddenly interested in you? Mingi has a pool of fan girls who are quite aggressive whenever he’s seen with a fellow female alone. Not wanting to get caught in his fire you reply to him,

“I don’t think so Min, but It was nice seeing you” you smile at him one last time before waving him off.

All Mingi can do is laugh and wink at you as he leaves you be with your friends.

“seriously what is going on with that frat?” Harin laughs. The girls around you continue to talk as some move in and out of the circle.

**30 minutes later**

“Miss Y/N~”

You turn your face to see a close classmate of yours.

“Mister Jongho~” you smile as he sits next to you.

“Y/N, I was wondering-“

“Cut the crap Jongho. What are you and ATZ planning” you cut him off.

Jongho laughs and throws his hands up as if he’s just been stopped by the cops.

“Woah woah, what do you mean Pretty?” Jongho chuckles at you.

“You and two other people from ATZ have been bothering me. You’re up to something” you raise an eyebrow at him.

You’re quite comfortable with Jongho. you’ve been seeing him everyday this past semester in a shared class. He’s a nice person, often gossips with you and shares all the recent news going around campus. A bonus, he’s ridiculously handsome.

“Alrrigghhhtt alright. Y/N i’ll tell you if… you give me your number”. Jongho smirks at you

“Jongho, we have one class together everyday. why are you barely asking for my number now?” You ask.

“What if i want your number to ask how you’re doing through out the weekend?” He asks with doe eyes.

“oh please Jongho . don’t make me hate you” you roll your eyes and sigh.

“fine fine~ . Just a warning this isn’t going to end Y/N” Jongho stands up and begins to walk away

“Wait! aren’t you going to tell me-“ Jongho shakes his head no and disappears.

You turn towards your friends in shock and get up from your seat.

“Alright.. well i’m going to go inside to get water” you say

“I’ll come with you Y/N!” “Me too!” Mina and Harin follow you as the rest of the girls wave you off.

Making your way to the kitchen to retrieve a bottle of water, Mina and Harin find a spot on the couch and catch up with some friends.

“Hey Y/N”

You turn and see a tall familiar man smiling at you.

“Hi Yunho” tilting your head looking up at him.

Yunho sighs and speaks, “I’ll just cut the chase. I’m not one to participate in these types of things, but will you give me your number? ATZ made a bet to see who can get your number first.”

You raise an eyebrow at him in shock.

“I know Pretty. I wasn’t for it either. you know i wouldn’t do stuff like this, especially to you. but help a friend out yeah?” Yunho explains.

He looks genuine confessing this to you. To be honest, you believe him. You and Yunho worked in the university library together every summer and built a mutual friendship. You can’t lie that you find Yunho very attractive, to be honest you were shocked when you first found out he was in a fraternity, he didn’t seem the as the stereotypical frat boy type. You take a few moments to reply, deeply appreciating that he has told you the truth behind ATZ’s scheme. so in return…

You sighed and rolled your eyes,

“If i give you my number what happens?”

“I won’t be embarrassed when i walk back to my friends.” Yunho give you a cheeky smiles

“Seriously? So this is just an ego thing?” You cross your arms uninterested.

“Y/N please. does there really need to be a motive. You are hot! lots of guys would kill for your number let alone your attention. The guys are buzzed right now and it just kind of happened.” Yunho explains.

“Fine.” you hold out your hand waiting for Yunho’s phone.

“Oh you’re a doll Y/N. thank you” Yunho says as he scrambles to take out his phone. You type in your number and shoo him off.

Walking out of the kitchen and making your way back to the couch you hear ATZ cheering and shouting at Yunho in shock and slight jealousy. You advert your attention back to your friends. “What took you so long?” Mina asked.

“I was talking with Yunho in the kitchen” you say casually.

“Mina! Harin! come here!!” One of the girls from outside are hollering them over . Mina and Harin scurry over with no questions leaving you on the couch with others watching people compete in beer pong. You feel a buzz in your pocket and you take out your phone to check a notification

Unknown: Yuyu’s #. You’re a life saver. I owe you!

You scoff at the nickname and save Yunho’s number to your cell.

“Is this seat taken?”

You turn your head to see yet another member from ATZ. A familiar face to you, but you’ve never really spoken to him. Just small encounters here and there at other parties.

“No it’s not.” you say shortly.

“I’m Seonghwa.” The man smiles at you softly. You can’t lie. This man is gorgeous. You smile back at him,

“I’m Y/N” You replied.

“I know” Seonghwa says with a smirk. You tilt your head in confusion.

“You know?” you say sarcastically, trying to play along.

“Well not technically. But I would like to get to know you though. How about your number?” Seonghwa asked tilting his head the same direction as yours. You scoff and laugh at his smooth come back.

“Why are you suddenly interested in my number Seonghwa?” you ask leaning into the couch.

“Well hot people should stay in touch together. Wouldn’t you agree Y/N?” Seonghwa says smirking.

“Not quite.” you roll your eyes and laugh.

“It was nice meeting you though, Seonghwa, I have to go check up on a friend now”. You get up from the couch and begin to search for Jia. You should actually check up on her, she’s been unseen for a while now.

Walking upstairs you move towards her room. Before twisting the door knob open, you hear moans. You stop your tracks and back up slowly.

(Welp, she seems fine) you say to yourself.

Walking back downstairs, you are stopped midway by a muscular figure. You look up and meet eyes with an angelic face.

“Oh Hey Y/N” the man smiles at you.

“Hi Yeosang” you smile back, mentally punching yourself for basically running into all of the ATZ members (more like they are running to you).

“What are you doing up here pretty?” Yeosang asks eying you up and down.

“Just checking up on Jia” you reply

“I saw her run off with Wonho a few hours ago. they looked like they were going to jump each other’s skins?” Yeosang chuckles.

“Yeah.. i’m sure they did” You confirm laughing with him.

“Y/N-ah, We should hang out sometime. We haven’t talked since last semester.” Yeosang is looking at you with a mesmerizing gaze that’s quite intoxicating.

“So suddenly?” you tease.

“Well why not, we had a great time studying for months in the library together don’t you agree?” Yeosang smirks.

“Can I have your number Please Y/N?” Yeosang pouts. You blush at his pretty face “Only because you’re pretty and you don’t annoy me like the others. i know what you and ATZ are up to” you say as you grab his phone from his hand.

“Who snitched!” Yeosang groans.

“Yuyu” You both laugh at the nickname as you dial your number in his phone and let it ring. Your phone begins to buzz and Yeosang’s number pops up on your phone. Yeosang smiles and ruffles your hair.

“You’re such an Angel Y/N” Yeosang doesn’t break his gaze off of you as you walk away from him.

You make your way back to Mina and Harin who are outside taking shots.

“Y/N!!! Let’s take a shot!” Mina catches your eyes and drag you towards the outside bar. “Mina! i can’t drink anymoreee~” you laughing at her drunk state. Mina whines and runs off to Harin who is trying to escape from taking another shot “Yah! Harin, come back!!” You laugh as you take a seat at the bar.

“Hey there”

You hear a voice near you. You turn and look at the person next to you. You mentally curse.

“Hi” you reply trying to be uninterested. Another fellow member from ATZ has approached you once again. However you’re shocked to see it’s the Frat president “My name’s Hongjoong. yours?” the man holds out his hand in a greeting. You smirk and take his hand.

“Hi Hongjoong. I’m Y/N”

“What a pretty name. wanna head back to my place? it’s getting crowded here don’t you think?” Hongjoong leans in closer to your face and smiles at you. Fuck, you say to yourself. His smiling is intoxicating and his facial features are so perfect. You try to snap yourself back into reality.

“I’m okay. I’d rather go back to my own home” You say as you begin to walk away.

Hongjoong follows next to you.

“oh to your place? I don’t mind that either. I was just trying to be polite” Hongjoong chuckles and stops in front of you to keep you from running off.

“You know that’s not what i meant Hongjoong” you say rolling your eyes.

“Then explain to me what you meant Y/N” Hongjoong teases.

“I’m not interested Hongjoong” you laugh. “But Here, i’ll save you the trouble” You take out your phone and hand it to Hongjoong. He cocks an eyebrow at you and smirks. He grabs your phone and inputs his number. He names his contact “Captain Hongjoong”. Hongjoong rings his number and shows you his phone screen as your number pops up. You scoff at him and retrieve your phone.

“I’ll see you around captain” you wave him off as you walk towards the house. Your social battery began to die with the consistent interactions, even though you can’t deny it was entertaining. However, you want to go home. You send a quick message to Jia that you’re heading out and begin to make your way towards the house exit. You take out your phone to call an uber as you sit on the front porch. You are slightly sobering up as you wait.

“Y/N. Leaving so soon?”

you turn your head and see a familiar face. Choi San. A person you quite despise.

“Yeah I called an uber” You say as you avoid eye contact with him.

You can’t quite remember why you and San hate each other. You two used to be friends, childhood friends actually. However once High school started you both drifted away into your own cliques and grew apart with a habit of hatred mixed with a teasing tension (mainly from San).

San sits next to you and looks at the night sky.

“How have you been Y/N?” San asks calmly

“Why do you care San.” you say a bit too snappy.

San looks unphased .

“What’s up with the attitude Y/N-ie” San teases. You turn to San and look at him with a stern face.

“San I know the bullshit you and ATZ are pulling.” You say.

“If you know, then why did you give into Yunho, Yeosang, and Hongjoong?” San raises an eyebrow at you.

“Because I know them and-“

“You’ve never spoken to Hongjoong.”

“You know what I don’t owe you an explanation to who I give my number to or who I show interest in. We haven’t spoke since high school, so don’t start acting interested in my life now” You bite back.

“Ouch You dont have to be like that Y/N-ie” . Having enough, you get up quickly and begin to walk away.

“My uber is here.”

Finally fleaing the party you make your way up to your apartment studio. You strip off your clothes and fall onto your bed. Your phone buzzes a few times. You glance at your phone and see a notification from Hongjoong.

Captain Hongjoong: “Hey pretty, let’s meet up tomorrow”

You don’t care to open the chat at the moment. So you toss your phone down and try to fall into a deep sleep, exhausted from the alcohol and various conversations from today.

~~

Yuyu: Hi Y/N-ie, wyd today? Let’s hang out!

You groan in annoyance as you stare at your notification bars. You haven’t opened any messages from last night or this morning. Mainly spams from Mina and Jia. Plus… the two messages from Hongjoong and now Yunho. You hesitate before responding to Yunho.

Y/N: What are you guys up to? I thought this was a one time ego boost thing. pls leave me alone.

Yuyu: Y/N if you want the full truth, you have to hang out with me today ;)

Y/N: what do you mean “the full truth”

Yuyu: I can explain if you agree to hang out with meeeeee

Y/N: Well your “Captain” messaged me about hanging out as well. Do I ditch him for you or are you going to get buried alive?

Yuyu: Lol, don’t worry about him. So yes or no?

Y/N: Fine. send the address.

Yuyu: Perfect, i’ll see you later Y/N!

You start to regret your life decisions as you walk out your apartment and head towards the address Yunho sent you. Looking at the address on Maps you realize , you are meeting Yunho at the ATZ Frat house. You sign in frustration and contemplate if you should cancel on him last minute with some shitty excuse. However, you’re curious as to why ATZ was so infatuated on you last night.

You arrive to the frat house and ring the door bell. You can hear running footsteps and mumbled voices behind the door as you wait. Finally, the door knob clicks, swings open, and you are met with happy faced Yunho.

“Y/N! YOURE HERE!” Yunho hugs and lifts you off the ground. You freeze in shock and try to hold in your laughter. Yunho puts you down and pulls you inside the frat house. “Welcome to the ATZ House!”

It’s cleaner than you expected. Especially knowing this is a house full of 8 men. Yunho guides you to the living room, where you are met with 6 of the ATZ members sitting on an L shaped couch. San is missing? You freeze your tracks and look towards Yunho.

“Jeong Yunho, you said you’d tell me the full truth” you cross your arms and stare at him intensely.

“Yes yes, WE, will tell you. now Miss Y/N please sit down” Yunho pulls out a chair for you and encourages you to sit down, as he makes his way to sit with the rest of the 6 men.

Hongjoong speaks up first “Y/N, i know you must be confused why we all took interest in you suddenly last night. Now, we’d like to explain ourselves.”

You cock your eyebrow in confusion as you look at all the members present,

“Where’s San? You said all of you guys took interest.” You asked.

“It took some convincing for Sannie, but he unfortunately had to sit out on today’s meeting because he has other…. Fraternity duties to fulfill. Don’t worry though honey he truly does have interest in you” Hongjoong explains.

You’re not convinced that San agreed to whatever this is. Regardless, you sit in silence waiting for further explanation.

“I’ll just get straight to the point. Y/N, we’d like you to be ours.” Hongjoong says blatantly.

You laugh. Out loud.

None of the boys are laughing. They all seem so serious.

“Wait you’re serious?” you ask arms still crossed.

“Yes we are serious.” Yunho chimes in.

“So… be yours as in become the ATZ Sweetheart?” You question.

“Well, yes but not really. Y/N we mean, we want you to be our girlfriend. All 8 of us.“

end of chapter 1….

next chapter

~

Ahhhh my first series! I hope you all enjoy! please leave comments and suggestions for any improvements, as i am still a new writer 🥹. Leave comments or message me to be part of my TagList for this series! I am hoping to have chapter 2 posted soon!

[choerypetal]

Little Accidents / Paul Atreides

Summary: Paul's obliviousness was soon shattered when frequent visits to the nursing room revealed the true essence of love at first sight.

Ps: This is a short fluff I had in mind, but I hope you enjoy and also english isn't my first language so bare with minimal errors, (once upload i always make sure to update now my works, if there is any errors) Enjoy! XOXO

As the heir of the Atreides' House, Paul effortlessly following in his father's esteemed footsteps. He possesses an acute sense of ownership, ensuring he's well aware of everything under his purview. Whether it's news of your battle injuries or workplace mishaps, Paul is always the first to know, abandoning any prior engagements to rush to your aid. While you're being tended to, his concern is palpable; his eyes scan for any signs of harm as he utters all while using the voice. ‘Where?’ This gesture of worry has become familiar, a reassurance you've grown accustomed to, especially when your visits to the infirmary often serve as an excuse to steal moments with him. ‘Dropped a weapon on my foot,’ you explain with a hint of ruefulness, ‘guess my impatience got the better of me, inadvertently knocking out one of the armories. Pity.’

Indeed, quite a pity. Paul couldn't help but notice your composure, devoid of any telltale signs of injury. It either seemed that the nurse had efficiently tended to you before his arrival—a stroke of luck, perhaps. However, Paul wasn't fooled; this wasn't the first time you'd urgently summoned him to the infirmary. Today, he harbored suspicions that you might finally reveal the true reason behind your frequent visits. “If you'd prefer I refrain from using the Voice," he remarked, a hint of seriousness in his tone, "you'll need to be more forthcoming than simply labeling it an accident, my dear."

However, you eventually reassured the head nurse, explaining that it was merely a minor issue requiring attention. Your heart fluttered with a mixture of nerves and affection as Paul insisted on tending to your wounds himself, rather than delegating the task to anyone else. As the room cleared, leaving just the two of you alone, Paul attempted to devise a plausible excuse while discreetly observing your work. This added another layer of challenge for him, yet he remained determined to keep a watchful eye on you. “Now tell,” A pregnant pause was felt soon as he sat next to you. “How I am suppose to know, that there is probably more reason than just a visit at the nursery?” 

You find yourself drawn in by his innocence, but observing Paul working alongside his father and their associates, it becomes evident that innocence was not his defining trait anymore. In fact, there's a possibility he understands more than he lets on. Maybe he's even willing to engage in the game you're playing. You nonchalantly dismiss any concerns, offering the excuse that you're just adding a bit of spice to the situation. However, Paul's reaction suggests that perhaps it's not the right moment to discuss such matters, especially anything related to the Spice itself.

Paul tilted his head, almost taking offense at your attempt at humor. Despite his awareness of your desire to spend more time alone with him, he understood that convincing him to stay a little longer each time wasn't as simple as it seemed. Even if his attempts at pampering you, like tending to invisible wounds that morphed into cuddle sessions, were charming, he recognized that your discussions about the 'Spice' were more about politics than relaxation. Poor thing– that was all he knew about out. This realization led to a soft chuckle from you, followed by an apology for bringing up the topic. However, Paul dismissed your apology, urging you not to discuss such matters, especially around him, as he couldn't help but wonder why you frequented the nursing room more often than before. “Now tell me, or I might just become as impatient as you’ll be when demanding kisses..”

His voice trailed off, almost seductive when Paul was right about to expose this little game of yours. Instantly you could feel his lip curve slightly into a smirk as he saw your expression, your eyes winding in shock, trying your very best to obliged. That you were the one who meant to shock Paul out of his work for some time but, perhaps you were indeed right about your wonders. That in fact, Paul knew that the exact reasons why you obliged yourself to the nursing room more often than ever. Only to find out, it was to spend more time with him. But Paul being himself, being the type of guy that he is, did not to confess his wrong at first or to be completely oblivious. After all– he is the duke’s son. 

"So, let me get this straight," Paul Atreides began, his tone tinged with a mixture of disbelief and introspection. "I, Paul Atreides, am so easily ensnared by your little charade? It's rather disheartening, truth be told." There was a hint of a pout on his lips as he contemplated your adeptness at expressing your desires, though he couldn't entirely fault you for it. With the constant demands of dealing with the Harkonnens and managing CHOAM affairs, finding time for you had become more challenging than he and you had anticipated. 

Unlike his parents, whose marriage was purely political, Paul had chosen a different path, one where your presence held a significance beyond mere political alliances. For him, building a future within the confines of the Atreides' House with you by his side was a deeply personal and cherished desire. Material wealth could wait; what mattered most was the connection he shared with you. With a sigh, he reached out to gently caress your cheek, a silent acknowledgment of your correctness all along. Perhaps it was time to prioritize his own happiness, even if it meant putting paperwork aside momentarily. "Maybe you're onto something," he admitted, his voice softening. "Perhaps you’re right, perhaps it's time for me to take a break from the endless bureaucracy and spend some quality time together. After all, even I need to unwind–."

Paul's words carried a weight of remorse rarely heard, especially within the esteemed Atreides family. As he neared the end of his sentence, you leaned in swiftly, feeling the soft brush of his lips against yours in a lingering kiss. The longing shared between you both was palpable, though circumstances often made indulgence impractical, intensifying the desire even more. When Paul finally pulled away, he gently nibbled at your lower lip, a playful chuckle escaping him at the sudden surge of hunger between the two of you. There was an undeniable yearning to touch, caress, and love you. "Perhaps I'll request a day off," he murmured, his voice laced with a hint of promise. “Perhaps you will.” You both end up chuckling as he cups your face, his eyes gazing from your eyes to your lips. Paul confessed once more,

“And perhaps, we don't always have to use the excuse of happy accidents, so I can exile from paperwork every now and then.” 

[izzih22]

I remembering watching an old Azzi fudd video of her saying she used to have asthma but thinks she’s grown out of it since it’s been so many years since she’s had an asthma attack. You should do a one shot where she has one during a workout practice or game and Paige freaking out or something like that 😂 worried and protective p is my fav

The Air Between Us

Note: I actually have severe Asthma just a little fun fact😂

The gym was filled with the usual echoes of basketballs hitting the floor, sneakers squeaking, and the sharp whistles of the coaching staff cutting through the noise. It was just another intense UConn practice, the kind that left players gasping for air and pushing through the burn.

Paige had always thrived in these kinds of moments—high-stakes, high-speed, high-energy. But today, she was tuned in for an entirely different reason.

Azzi was on the other side of the court, her movements crisp and fluid as always, but something in Paige’s gut kept her gaze trained a little longer than usual. She chalked it up to love—Azzi just looked too damn good flying down the court—but something else flickered behind Paige’s eyes. A deeper instinct, an old one.

She shook it off and turned back to her own drill.

Azzi had told her, years ago, that she’d outgrown her asthma. “Haven’t had an attack since I was 17,” she’d said with that soft smile. Paige had believed her. Of course she had. Why wouldn’t she?

But now, Azzi’s steps looked… off. Slightly delayed. Her hand drifted to her chest for a moment, brushing against her practice jersey. Paige narrowed her eyes.

“Ten more sprints!” Coach bellowed, oblivious.

Azzi lined up like everyone else, wiping sweat from her brow. But the way her chest was rising and falling—it wasn’t right. It was too fast. Too shallow.

Paige didn’t even pretend to start the sprint. She turned, fully, and watched Azzi.

Two sprints in, Azzi staggered.

Paige stomach plummeted

“Azzi,” she called, tone sharp.

Azzi didn’t respond.

“Azzi!” Paige shouted, this time louder, already jogging toward her.

Azzi bent over, hands on her knees. The next breath she took was ragged and wheezy. The sound cut through Paige like a knife.

Then she went down.

“Shit—move!” Paige yelled as her teammates froze. She was at Azzi’s side in a second, dropping to her knees. “Hey, hey, I’m right here.”

Azzi’s eyes were wide. Terrified. Her hand clawed weakly at her chest.

“I can’t—I can’t breathe,” she gasped, voice barely audible.

Paige cupped her face. “Baby, look at me. Look at me.” Her own heart was hammering. Her head was spinning. But Azzi needed her calm. Azzi needed her strong.

“Someone call the trainer! Now!” Paige barked over her shoulder, but she didn’t look away from Azzi.

“Breathe with me, okay? Just try. In through your nose, slow. You’re okay. You’re safe.”

Azzi’s eyes fluttered, and a tear slid down her cheek. Her whole body was shaking.

“It’s okay, it’s okay, I’ve got you,” Paige whispered, voice cracking.

Memories flooded her—Azzi at 16, curled up in her arms after a school tournament when an asthma attack hit her out of nowhere. Paige holding her, whispering the same words, praying to every god that Azzi would just breathe.

It was like being thrown back in time.

“Where’s the damn inhaler?” Paige asked the trainer as he ran over, med kit in hand. He fumbled before pulling it free and placing it in Paige’s palm.

She did it herself, holding Azzi gently, guiding the inhaler to her lips.

“Deep breath, baby. I’ve got you.”

It took a few minutes—agonizing, terrifying minutes—but eventually, Azzi’s breathing began to even out. Her chest rose and fell more naturally. Her fingers stopped trembling.

“You’re okay,” Paige kept whispering, over and over, forehead pressed to Azzi’s. “You’re okay.”

The gym was silent now. The team had gathered around at a distance, some with wide eyes, others with tears. No one had ever seen Paige like this—panicked, frantic, unraveling.

But with Azzi in her arms, she didn’t care. She’d fall apart for her a thousand times if it meant keeping her safe.

Once Azzi was stable, the trainer gave the nod. “She’s okay. We’ll follow up, but she’s okay.”

Paige let out a breath like she hadn’t taken one in an hour. Azzi was leaning into her now, tired and emotional, cheeks wet and flushed.

“I didn’t know it’d come back,” Azzi whispered hoarsely.

Paige cradled her close. “It doesn’t matter. I’ve got you. Always.”

Azzi sniffled, and then—barely a whisper—“I was so scared.”

“I know, baby. Me too.”

A beat of silence passed, and then Azzi mumbled, “I didn’t want to let anyone see me like that. Not like this. Not after everything.”

“You’re the strongest person I know,” Paige said fiercely. “This doesn’t change that. You hear me? You could collapse in my arms a hundred times and I’d still think you’re the most incredible person I’ve ever met.”

Azzi tried to laugh but it came out watery. “You’re biased.”

“Damn right I am.”

Paige leaned in and kissed her temple, her jaw, then her lips. “You’re mine. That’s my job—to catch you. You don’t have to hide anything from me.”

Azzi melted into her, finally letting the exhaustion take over.

And as Paige held her in the center of the gym floor, surrounded by teammates and silence and the fading echo of chaos, all she could think about was how fiercely she loved this girl. How fiercely she always had.

And how she would never, ever stop.

[acowardinmordor]

I am sunburned and sleepy and thinking about an AU where Eddie graduates on time. After Will goes missing, and Barb, and Will is dead and then he isn’t and the whole town is a bit shaken, he buckles down and gets it done.

Knows the kids because of dnd but it wasn’t at the school. Vecna still happens, Steve gets chewed on by bats, multiple times, and has brutal scars.

He and Eddie don’t really know each other before the summer that Steve is picking up and dropping off the kids for game sessions. Not beyond high school level awareness.

So that’s when they start to talk and flirt and eventually get together. And one reason that Steve hasn’t been trying to flirt with girls is all the scars. At least once, he thought things were going great and then she freaked out about them and really freaked out when his explanation didn’t make any sense.

He assumes that Eddie will be the same. Maybe last a little longer before freaking, but figures it’s inevitable.

Eventually Steve runs out of ways for them to make out and get off without getting undressed enough for the worst of it to be obvious. Which is when he finds a set of scars across Eddie’s back, around to his stomach. Three deep, vicious marks.

Which explains why Eddie hasn’t asked the few times when Steve knows Eddie felt scars on his own skin. And it would be fine, right? Eddie understands about having scars and won’t make it weird and Steve can keep this thing they have. But that hope shatters when Eddie pulls away, rambling about scars. It takes a second to realize that Eddie is talking about his own, not Steve’s. And then a few seconds more for Eddie’s story about being attacked by a bear in the woods in 1983 to click into place.

[writingwithciara]

across the hall; part 2 -quinn hughes-

summary: y/n moves in across the hall from quinn and in an emergency, she leaves her five-year old daughter in his care

word count: 1.3k

pairing: quinn hughes x reader, toxic ex-boyfriend x reader

notes: just a follow-up to the first part in the series :)

it had been 3 weeks and quinn had truly kept to his word. he allowed y/n to drop abby off at his place whenever she needed to run to work, or whenever she just wanted to have a few hours alone. he helped her whenever he was able to.

and she was thankful for his presence in their lives. without him, she would've gone insane.

wile she wasn't at work, quinn stopped by to bring y/n and abby some things he thought they'd like. most of the time it was dinner and other times, it was a book for y/n or a toy for abby.

abby loved to see him, not only for the toys, but for his company. he was her favorite person. and that didn't upset y/n at all.

okay. maybe it did just a little bit. but she loved seeing her daughter happy.

one night, while quinn and abby were waiting for y/n to get home from work, abby looked up at quinn with a smile.

"my mommy says you're a hockey player."

"yeah. i am."

"i've never watched hockey before. what's it like?"

quinn let out a chuckle and tried his best to explain the game to her. by the end of his description, abby was hooked.

"i wanna go to a game now."

"maybe your mom can get a night off and i can get you guys tickets for one of my upcoming home games."

"could you do that?"

"i'd have to talk it over with your mother first. but i can try."

"yay." she smiled. "love you quinn."

"love you too, sweetheart." quinn smiled and turned his attention back to the movie they were watching.

less than an hour later, y/n walked through her door and set her bag on the table. she went and joined quinn on the couch. he made room for her and smiled.

"how was work?"

"exhausting, as usual." she took a deep breath and looked at him. "how was babysitting?"

"can you really call it babysitting if you don't pay me?" he chuckled.

"i'm going to pay you eventually. i just never have the time to get the money out for you."

"it's okay. honestly. i don't mind spending time with abby. she's the sweetest kid in the world." he glanced down at the little girl sitting to his right. "oh, i hope you don't mind, but i think i got her hooked on hockey."

"how did you do that?"

"she told me she'd never watched hockey before and then she asked me to describe the game to her. then she said she wanted to go to a game and i told her i'd get you guys tickets if you were okay with it."

"i have this weekend off. when's your next home game?"

"saturday evening." he smiled, really loving how perfectly their schedules lined up.

"perfect. i'd love to go to a game."

"great. guess i'll see you there." quinn stood up and y/n walked him to the door.

"good night, quinn." y/n smiled and shut the door.

by the time saturday evening rolled around, y/n and abby were excited to watch quinn play. he brought over 2 vancouver jerseys for the girls before he left that morning and y/n thanked him.

as they made their way to the amazing seats quinn had gotten for them, y/n couldn't help but be awestruck at the sight. the players were skating around for warm-ups and when quinn skated past their seats, abby jumped up and down. y/n picked her up and brought her over to the glass just as quinn came back around. he tossed his puck over the glass and offered them both a smile before skating away.

"who was that?"brock asked as quinn came over to him.

"my neighbor and her kid."

"that's y/n?" he looked over at the girl behind the glass. "hmm. i always pictured her with red hair for some reason." he shrugged and kept skating. "still gorgeous though."

"relax, dude. you have a girlfriend."

"true. but you don't. why don't you make a move?"

"it's not like that. i'm just her occasional babysitter when she's busy, which is a lot." quinn sighed. he agreed with brock in the fact that she was gorgeous but he had his eye on someone else. he didn't want his friend to know that though. "besides, she just got to town after moving across the country to get away from her past."

"how much do you really know about her?"

"i know enough. can we focus on warm-ups?"

"sure thing, dude." brock skated away and started practicing his shots.

back on the bench, y/n and abby were watching quinn skate around. y/n's eyes didn't stay glued to him though. her eyes began following the blond quinn was just talking to. the one with boeser on the back of his jersey. there was something that drew her to him, but in a way, she felt like she was betraying quinn. then she looked over and saw a girl with a boeser jersey standing a few feet away. she waved to quinn's friend and he stopped to have a quick chat with her.

quinn stopped by y/n and abby again. "i really hope you guys enjoy the game tonight. i'm gonna play extra hard for the two loveliest ladies in the arena."

"as long as we're cheering for you, we'll be having fun."

"glad to hear that." he smiled and skated to his spot on the ice to begin the game.

as the game began, y/n watched as quinn got the puck and took the first shot on the Kings goal. he missed but abby started clapping anyway. she didn't quite understand the game but she was enjoying it anyway.

halfway through the second period, the canucks got on the board with the first goal of the night. the goal was made by boeser and the girl he was talking to cheered with delight. she then turned to y/n and smiled.

"hi. i saw you talking to quinn earlier. are you his girlfriend?"

"no. i'm just his neighbor." she smiled.

"oh, so you're the one he's always talking about?" the girl raised an eyebrow before smiling and extending her hand. "i'm bella, brock's girlfriend. it's nice to finally meet you."

"i'm y/n." she shook bella's hand and smiled. "i'd love to say that i knew who you were but quinn hasn't mentioned a lot of his friends. sorry."

"that's okay. he's like that sometimes." she smiled and looked at abby. "oh my goodness. you must be abby."

"that's me." the girl in y/n's arms smiled at bella.

"quinn has shown us so much pictures of you and i must say, you're much more adorable in person."

"thank you." abby giggled. "quinn says i get it from my mommy."

"oh, does he now?" bella raised an eyebrow. "that's cute."

"you never told me he said that, abby."

"he says it every night he watches me."

"oh." it was y/n's turn to raise an eyebrow. she felt her cheeks heat up quickly so she refocused on the game. and just in time to see quinn score a goal.

"i'm really glad you and quinn met. it was beginning to feel like he would never meet someone who could crack his moody personality."

"he's not that moody. or at least he hasn't been since i've met him."

"that's what i mean. he used to be so moody but since you came to town, he's changed. he talks more, smiles more. and he even plays better." bella grinned and watched the puck exchange between quinn and brock. "whatever you're doing, keep doing it."

"okay." y/n liked talking to bella. it was nice to finally have a conversation with someone who wasn't a child or a coworker. it was like she was an actual friend.

later that night, y/n was walking back to her apartment when she stopped in the middle of the hall. she couldn't believe her eyes.

"what the hell are you doing here?"

----------

tags: @alwaysclassyeagle

[a-capricious-creative]

rip harry potter, you would’ve definitely won the hunger games. and i don’t just mean because he can go ages without food due to the dursleys’ starvation.

you’re polyjuiced as a muscular, scary wizard running through the ministry? lean into the intimidation and act like a pureblood supremacist and threaten everyone to get them to comply as you get the muggle-borns out.

you need to free a house-elf whose being poorly treated? wrap your sock over the diary knowing lucius will throw to the side towards dobby and hence free him.

you need your shitty relatives to sign the permission slip? tease them about revealing your horridly abnormal identity as a wizard to the guests coming over.

you need to get your shitty relatives to let you go to the quidditch cup? tell them your godfather is a murderer and that you write to him and intentionally leave out the part that he’s innocent.

you need to manoeuvre a literal dragon to get the egg? fly in circles to make it dizzy and back and forth so it can’t blow fire and high up so it’ll eventually move up so you can zip down and snatch the egg.

you’re trapped in the department of mysteries with your friends? get you and your friends to topple all the shelves and make a run for it.

need to eavesdrop on snape and karkaroff’s conversation? intentionally spill your potion and pretend that you’re innocently just cleaning up.

you need to get back to hogwarts after enduring the cruciatus curse and then duelling voldemort? run at full speed, while dodging spells, with an injured leg and the weight of cedric’s body to the portkey and successfully get away.

your friend needs a confidence boost? successfully gaslight him and everyone else into thinking you added a lucky potion.

the new minister of magic is insinuating that you should be more involved with the ministry and use it to become an auror? actually, no, what he’s actually doing is trying to milk my fame to control public opinion into thinking i support them so that they’ll support them.

oh dobby, you say that malfoy always goes up to the seventh floor with other students? actually what’s happening is that draco flinched in the robes shop be cause he didn’t want the person to see his dark mark, and he went behind the desk in borgin and burkes to show the mark in his left arm. oh, and the reason he’s on the seventh floor is because he’s going to the room of requirements which is also why it isn’t showing on the marauder’s map. oh and hermione, that girl who dropped the brass scales, that was crabbe or goyle polyjuiced to watch the door and alert malfoy if the coast was clear as well as the girls who were following malfoy and the one who dropped the toadspawn.

dumbledore wants me to get information out of slughorn? refill the wine bottle so he drinks more to make him susceptible, reminisce about my mother who was his favourite student and guilt trip this member of authority by mentioning his reluctance to help defeat the wizard who killed lily evans who gave her life to save me and emotionally manipulate him by saying he should be brave like my mother and tell him how noble he’d be for doing it.

a true icon.

[hxltic]

i absolutely need suna x reader having secret sex while the miya twins are a room across🫣

OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD

You had no real attraction to Suna, but it was just one of those nights where your brothers came home after a game, bringing his friends along with him to celebrate, and to avoid sitting in their sweat, they had to shower. Thank god you took yours before the boys made it. Being the last to shower when the floor is wet and it’s steamy already is literally the worst shit ever.

The problem was, Suna never really came over; therefore, he had no real way to know which room was your brothers’.

He had specific instructions to shower and take some clothes from his room. Looking back on it, he should’ve asked which door it is, but strutting back with nothing but a towel on his waist is not an option. So, he resorts to opening every door until he finds what he would think is the room of his teammate. Or rather…either of them?

Instead, the knob twists as you’re fully bent over in your walk-in closet, digging through a basket of clean clothes for a t-shirt. Of course it had to be the second you wanted to change when he walked in, and not when you were comfortably reading in bed with a little light on earlier. There’s no bra on your chest now, just a pair of navy blue lace panties.

Hey! On the bright side: they could’ve been cotton with “kiss my ass” stamped on the back.

Your arms draw up in an effort to hide your chest when you hear the twist of the knob and the door come flying open. Key word is effort, because now your breasts are pressed up against each other, which Suna believes is ten times worse for you than the position he found you in. At least when you were bent over, he had to imagine whatever he couldn’t see.

“Holy- shit!” you exclaim, eyeing the man at your door that’s actively dripping water on your carpet. His hair is fallen and sticking to his face messily, just enough for you to spot his slim eyes. He doesn’t say anything at first.

It’s mainly just him blinking blankly at you while you panic, searching the room for literally anything to provide some decency, but once you render the clear lack of any emotion (like embarrassment) you currently possessed in his body, it calms your nerves a bit.

He’s seen a woman before. It doesn’t make him any less prone to being attracted to puffy lips and nipples only covered by an arm, but it somehow soothes you to know he won’t make a big deal out of it and maybe not even mention it to your siblings.

Eventually, you throw on the nearest shirt over your head and pull your hair through, dirty or clean, still with no pants to match.

You sigh deeply, “What is it Suna?” It comes out in an irritated grunt.

“You know my name.” His eyebrows raise with surprise, but not as high as the average person’s would.

“Yeah, I do. Is there a reason you’re still here?”

He presses on: “How do you know it? Do they talk about me a lot?”

Your head drops in your palm to shake back and forth. “I can’t do this right now,” he overhears your mumble.

“My bad, I was looking for Tsumu’s room but got jumpscared instead.”

Despite saying this, he still stands in the doorway—not with it cracked, but with it wide fucking open—and it’s then when creaks from the stairs clears the air between you two. He doesn’t move, but you quickly shove him over to peek around the corner, then drag him into your bedroom before whoever it is gets the wrong idea by the view from the hallway.

While you’re turned after throwing him mindlessly into your room, he readjusts the falling towel around his waist. What he said finally hits you a few moments too late.

“Jumpscared?! You? I’m in the comfort of my own room when you barge in with nothing on!” Your hands gesture up and down as you scold him. “And don’t talk about my body like that!” Only he doesn’t really look at your eyes. When you’re done, he finds your attention.

“It was really an accident, but I’ll stay until whoever goes back downstairs,” he shrugs. “And why does it smell like sex in here?”

Your cheeks redden. There was a reason you were looking for a change of clothes. “It doesn’t.”

“Yeah, it does.” He flops back onto the bed carelessly, dipping your comforter.

“Stop! You’re getting my sheets wet.” His body has only slightly dried, but with the full head of hair he has, it hasn’t dried at all. “Suna, get up.”

“They probably already are.”

He closes his eyes and crosses his arms over his chest. His stature was not what you thought it’d be. He was tall and packed with muscle in his legs. You could tell that much by the pictures if you didn’t figure it out by the fact that when he’s sitting you’re still face to face; but on top of that, his abdomen was carved and his arms carried some weight too.

Nothing compared to the sheer size of his legs, but still up there. They had to be the size of your head. By photos he’s an average high school athlete, so it almost appears fake when he takes the uniform off.

Unfortunately, as you were looking, his eyes had opened and he’d been watching you inspect him. Suna will always preach there are benefits to being as quiet as he is, like how he can pinpoint that your fingers come to pinch the edge of your shirt.

You clear your throat in hopes it will gather your thoughts too, then rectify his past statement. “They aren’t.”

“Right… just like how all the red tabs in this book are for nothing?” He reaches beside him to take it in his hands, then he flips through the pages quickly until he comes across one. “‘I run my fingers down her trembling thighs that yearn for my touch. You’ll take it like a—’”

Before he can finish what you remember is very unfortunately highlighted, you crawl over him to rip it out his hands and throw it. You chuck the literature nowhere in particular with shame that can’t get any higher as he laughs, then you quickly retreat with a knee up on the edge of the bed. His laughter is a sweet sound. It makes sense why he’s friends with your brothers.

You don’t even notice you’re half-straddling him while you point your finger in his face. “What I read is none of your business.”

He spoke clearly and assertively when he read, and the last thing you need him figuring out was how bad your body desired he’d read the words to you again; he was already too observant.

“Of course. Forgive me for saying such vulgar things around my friend’s sister. She would never do such a thing.” Finally, he slowly sits up, which naturally makes you rise with him, so you place your hand on his shoulder to prevent from wobbling. Your thigh is beside his with your foot unstable on the floor. “She’s just so sweet and innocent, and definitely not up here alone reading book porn.”

Your breathing picks up at the proximity and the pressure of a declaration you can’t avoid. You search between both his eyes that do the same to you. He deserves a medal or something, because fuck—the shirt lifts just a little bit every time you fiddle with it and the lace sticks to your skin like glue. “I- uhm,” you stutter, removing your stability from his body and backing away from the bed.

Of course, to add to the fucking humiliation, you stumble backward, but he reaches out to you. His hand firmly wraps around your wrist and the other is hooked behind your back when he jerks you back up to him. He only releases your wrist.

“Is that all you read?”

You shake your head. “I read regular romance and fantasy too.”

He nods, “Ah, I see. So you want the prince of a faraway land to twirl you around in his field of flowers saying how much he loves you, then you want him to make you beg to come?”

Your eyes shoot wide at the comment, only stretching the lazy smirk on his face.

“N-No,” you reply, even though that does sound extremely appealing.

“But you do want someone to ‘run their fingers down your trembling thighs’ though, right?”

To emphasize his point, he lets the knuckles of his hand trickle down the back of your thigh, just barely grazing the skin. The sensation shocks you and almost sends you forward. This can’t be happening. Actually, you pray it isn’t, so your eyelids slam shut.

This prompts his other hand to pinch either side of your jaw gently and drag your face to his. “Or lay you back and tell you to take it like a good girl.” His eyes flicker from your eyes, to your lips, then back up, noting the state of disbelief your countenance holds. He flattens the hand that stops just under your ass.

You almost melt in his hold, and this he knows because of the long breath you took after his words. It’s easy to infer you’re fairly untouched by not only your responses, but how receptive you were. It was you two, only about an inch from each other now, waiting to see who would make the next move and risk something far worse than just a growing attraction. The twins flash in your head as a beat passes and you swallow.

“Yes. But that has nothing to do with you.”

Suna shines a smile with his teeth. “Your thighs are rubbing together.”

You look him up and down. “So?”

“Can I tell you a secret?”

You don’t look him in the eyes, they drop to your pillows. Before you can separate the thighs in question that are only disconnected by his fingertips, he nudges you forward onto him, bringing your hands back to his shoulders. You’re completely straddling while attempting to keep your eyes locked on his when his entire torso is on display. He leans forward to speak just above a whisper in your ear as if this is a normal occurrence.

“I can feel you dripping all over my hand.” The cool of his breath tickles your neck, only worsening as he continues. “Why is that?”

You’re at a loss for words at first, but you suck it up, holding your own. “Nothing to do with you. Maybe I went too hard earlier.”

He wholeheartedly chuckles at this response. “So you admit it?”

“Admit what?”

“That you were up here fucking yourself to your book?” His voice is an echo behind you since he’d decided to rest his chin comfortably on your shoulder.

“Yeah. Yeah—I guess I do. It’s not like you didn’t come in here and figure it out yourself,” your eyes roll.

“Which part were you reading?”

“Does it matter?”

“Yes.”

There’s a moment of silence. “She’d just decided to drop her toxic ex-boyfriend and his sister came to console her. The way she did it was kind of fucked up, and I think the slow burn is what made me look past it, but anyway—she brings her to a party, the boy she meets there happens to be the barista at the place she orders from every day, and he has a history with the main character’s ex. He hates him even though he’d gotten over it as years passed, but she really wants to get back at him, so they send an anonymous short video of them, um… together, and he gets really pissed off.”

Suna is quiet as he reviews what you just said. He admires your perception of the book and the passion to read. He goes, “You’re into that?” and then it’s your turn not to say anything, even with the amusement lacing his tone. You grow fidgety, and just when you don’t think any more words will be exchanged, he suddenly demands, “Don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“That. What you just did.” You shifted your weight from leg to leg as the silence grew longer. Just to see, you do it again.

“You’re grinding against me when you do that by the way.”

You giggle maliciously, continuing to go back and forth. It’s payback for teasing you the entire time. He comes to hold your hips still to prevent further movements, but in protest, you create an arch in your back to actually roll your hips down instead, ensuring he felt it.

“Okay, really, unless you want to move like that with my nine inches inside of you, I suggest you choose your battles now.”

You finally halt at the words. He was dead serious. He feels scratching along his shoulder blades at your fingers curling up in response, but not removing yourself. He still rests his head beside yours. “Oh, don’t tell me you’re into that too?”

So that’s how he ended up with his back to your headboard, head tipped up, looking at you through his pretty eyelashes as you wrap your hand around his slick length and reposition it to line up. You lower your body down, allowing your walls to open up for him. The stretch hurts only a little just because he’s so big.

You hadn’t kissed him the entire time, so he groans desperately when you wrap your fingers tightly around his neck and lean in. He allows you to no matter how hard you squeeze.

This drives up your confidence with your pretty lace panties pushed to the side, making you raise to your feet.

“Shit,” he grabs ahold of your ankles between half-lidded eyes, and his mouth slightly dropped like he can’t believe what the fuck he’s seeing. “If Atsumu could see you now.”

The mention of your brother at all should turn you off, but it doesn’t. It only fuels you knowing that you’re actively riding his teammate. In fact, you must tighten around him, because he knows immediately.

“What? Does that turn you on? Fuckin’ slut.”

You whimper at the words, pressing your lips forward to his. You kiss him the best you can as he hungrily reciprocates.

The bed moves forcefully, but Suna knows the other guys are probably too busy downstairs to hear it, and whoever is in the other room may only potentially be a problem. So up and down you go, now slamming your ass against him and reddening his slightly tan, freckled skin.

“Poor thing was up here by herself. If dick was what you really wanted, you know you could have always asked.”

“Hhhmmm,” you whine, breathing shallow.

The brunette lets you go until your legs burn and you’re slowing pace. It’s driving him insane watching you chase your orgasm, using him like he was the perfect replacement for your fingers, in your own little world with your face twisted up in ecstasy and muscles straining. You were too stubborn to stop when he offered it to you, but he doesn’t mind. Not everyone has legs like his.

He instructs while inching his hips up the bed, “Fall back to your knees.” You do, and he grabs one wrist in each hand before digging his heels into the blanket and pounding up into you at a pace you don’t think you could ever meet. It’s rough and loud and you can feel his balls coming up to strike you from behind. Quite literally, it takes your breath away.

“Fuck fuck fuck yes,” tendrils of your hair fall over your face when you lay your head down over his head for stability. Aside from not being able to move, this is the best angle for the both of you. Your tits move over his face, which would allow him to suck and bite as he pleases while holding you still, and with the tilt of your body his fat tip reaches your most sensitive part.

You bounce over and over and he wishes he would have pulled your shirt up first. He’s grunting in your ear dangerously.

“Was this in your book too? Is this when he told her to take it like a good girl?”

You try to answer but it’s incomprehensible with the speed of his thrusts.

He commands, “Again.”

“Y-Yes,” you retry, finally getting something out. He’s satisfied with this, so he lets go of your wrists and pushes you upright, only slowing for the moment. This time, he wraps his fingers around your neck, just enough for you to breathe, while rolling his thumb across your revealed clit. The veins of his forearm show themselves and he peers up at you with a glare as if you were the most irritating thing to him.

How hard you were holding him is nothing compared to how hard he is holding you, and just that thought has your eyes threatening to fall closed.

“Then be a good. Fucking. Girl,” he punctuates each word with a harsh upwards cut of his hips, “and take it.”

“Oh God,” you connect your own weak hands around his, your mouth falling open with every moan that floats into the air. He holds your gaze with his threatening eyes, and if you tried to look anywhere but him, he’d pull you right back. “Suna, I’m coming,” you rush it out like there’s no stopping now. And honestly, you’re currently wishing you didn’t say it at all, because you know if he told you not to, your body would try its best to comply.

“No the fuck you’re not.”

Godammit.

Removing his finger from your nub, he moves the hand to meet the other at your throat. You couldn’t speak even if you wanted to, which you did want to, just to let him know that this would only make it worse. There’s a movement: you’re coming down on him yourself with the force of the thrust driving you up.

Your mouth creates the words, but they don’t come out. Suna knows anyway. “Please.”

“No.” And it’s as simple as that, because then he says, “Do you hear that?”

Of course you don’t, he just asked to see if you were sane enough to come back to your senses and focus your hearing. His tight hold on you is enough to leave a mark, but not enough to prevent your head from slowly shaking back and forth.

“On the other side of that wall is your brother. Both of them.” Your eyes shoot wide at the same time his thrusts calm down. He still continues, it’s just with a deep grind to prevent the hard slapping of skin, and he brings your forehead to his as he speaks to you. “Come now and both of us are in trouble.”

He has valid reasons to infer that it is specifically the twins, but he’s sure you don’t want to hear those right now. If it was up to him, you would have been throwing your head back and showing that arch he imagines you had before he intruded in on you changing, but holding it above your head like meat to a starving dog was fine too.

“Please let me come Rin, please. I’ll be quiet,” a chaste kiss to the tip of his nose ends your pleading, hoping it softens him up with the use of his first name.

And maybe it worked, because his eyebrows curl upwards with pity when he explains, “We both know you’re too vocal for that, princess. How about we try something else?”

You nod frantically, raising off his length and letting him lay down completely while you wait for directions. He gets situated by moving pillows out of the way. “Come here.”

You realize now the pity he expressed was fake. Swinging your leg over his waist, you begin to line yourself up.

“No. Come here.”

You stare at him dumbfounded.

“Up here, towards me,” he ushers his hands. You scoot closer towards his chest with your hands on his pecs, not sure how much closer the two of you can get.

“My face, baby.”

Instead of getting angry with you, he kept his tone. It was little but it made you feel good. “Oh.”

You come to a hover over his lips, contemplating a lot and nothing at the same time, mainly if this man was really under you telling you to do what you’re doing.

“Sit.”

“Are you sure?” You clarify.

“Yes. Sit before I make you read your porn to me.” This brings your eyebrows in with a crease and you drop with no remorse on his lips. His face is smothered somewhere between your thighs. The only thing visible is his damp hair.

Unfortunately for you, he enjoys the thrill of not being able to breathe.

You’re less than two minutes into absolutely grinding on his tongue, chasing the vibrations of his grunts and groans by tugging on his hair. Your other hand is covering your mouth.

Thankfully, because there’s a quick knock, and Osamu’s voice passes through the door. “Pizza’s here. You okay in there?”

You nod as if he can see you. You then realize he cannot.

Shakily, you call out, “Yes.” The only way to not moan while Suna slides the muscle between your lips to taste all of your slick is by biting your lip. His fingers grip the fat of your thighs.

“Okay.” In the background there’s another voice, presumably your other brother. Finally, they become faint until you hear the stairs, and you allow yourself a little freedom.

“Rin,” you look down fully expecting to meet his eyes, but you can’t see him at all.

“Hmphh?”

“I’m close…can I?” On cue, he pushes in as far as his tongue can go inside your hole. He nods yes, simultaneously flattening it to lick all of you in one stripe before deliberately sucking your clit.

To muffle your sounds, your hand comes to cover your mouth once again and you’re somehow managing to prepare for your eyes squeezing shut at the same time as your muscles tensing. Suna can feel you dripping, literally this time.

this was kinda rushed

©️hxltic

[scary-grace]

hands-off, hands-on - a shigaraki x f!reader fic

This was inspired by this art and a comment left on it about the risks of trying to jerk off with a quirk like Decay. It was also inspired by @obsessedtomone and @scarlettcryptid, who encouraged me to write it and then to post it. The pun in the title was my idea and not their fault.

Shigaraki's quirk makes life difficult in a lot of ways, but there's only one he can't find a way around, and since you joined the League of Villains, it's gotten even worse. When the truth comes out at last, he's expecting it to be a disaster and nothing else. He definitely isn't expecting you to offer to help. (cross-posted to Ao3) Canonverse, one-shot, smut.

Shigaraki Tomura’s quirk is everything to him. It’s how he found himself alone in the world as a five-year-old, even if he can’t remember the details. It’s why Sensei took an interest in him, why Sensei took him in, why Sensei chose him to carry on his work. It’s the perfect tool for someone like Shigaraki, who hates everything, who wants nothing more than to destroy everything he doesn’t like. Decay is the best thing that’s ever happened to Shigaraki. And at the same time, it absolutely, categorically sucks.

Shigaraki might hate everything, but he doesn’t hate it all the time, and the times when he doesn’t hate it are times when he’d love to be able to just have whatever it is without being one wrong move away from ruining it. Name a thing he likes, and his quirk is ready and waiting to fuck it up – gaming, eating, sleeping, even reading the fucking newspaper. He can do all those things four-fingered, if he stays focused. It’s the stuff he can’t stay focused on that’s impossible.

He can’t stay focused when he’s horny, at least not enough to keep from potentially Decaying his dick off. Shigaraki doesn’t actually know if his quirk works on himself, and he’s not interested in finding out. And that means that no matter how horny Shigaraki gets or how many poorly timed boners he pops, jerking off is permanently off the table.

That’s not to say Shigaraki’s never finished. He has. He’s spent so much time humping pillows that he had to learn to do his own laundry. But there’s something really pathetic about being twenty years old with two working hands and still be stuck grinding on a pillow to make himself come, and it always takes so stupidly long. Now that Shigaraki’s got the League of Villains, now that he’s got plans to make and Sensei’s legacy to fulfill, he doesn’t have that kind of time. When he wakes up with the world’s worst morning wood after a dream he doesn’t remember clearly, there’s nothing he can do but wait for it to go away.

It fades – enough – but the feeling doesn’t, and eventually Shigaraki doesn’t have a choice but to drag himself out of bed. He slinks from his room to the bar, hoping it’ll be empty, with the rest of the League out and about preparing for the mission and Kurogiri somewhere nearby if Shigaraki needs him but not actually right there to ask him what’s bothering him. Shigaraki can pour his own drinks. Maybe he can get out of this if he gives himself whiskey dick on purpose. Kurogiri’s not in the bar, just like he was hoping, but it’s not empty, either. You’re there, sprawled out over the bar with a sweating glass of water on a coaster in front of you.

Shigaraki’s jaw clenches at the sight. “What are you doing here?” he demands, and you look up. “Don’t you have something to do?”

“I did it already.” You yawn. “Using my quirk tires me out.”

“Really?” Shigaraki can’t keep the irritation out of his voice. “Making people stupid is that exhausting?”

Your quirk is a weird one. It lets you increase or decrease a target’s ability to plan, reason, problem-solve, remember things, and learn – in other words, their intelligence. “From this distance, for as many people as you need me to hit?” You yawn again and drop your head back down to the bar. “Yeah. Remember, I have to keep them all being stupid the same way, right up until it’s too late. Or your plan won’t work.”

Shigaraki had the pieces of the plan before he made you use your quirk on him, but once you used the quirk on him, he did some fine-tuning on the strategy, and he came up with the idea of using your quirk the opposite way, too. While the rest of the League is planning to make the attack on UA’s summer training camp a success, you’re using your quirk every day on the heroes in charge of planning the camp itself. Shigaraki’s not actually going to know if it works until after the attack, and that pisses him off. “Go nap somewhere else, then.”

“I’m not going to bother you,” you say. “Where else am I supposed to go, anyway? Your room?”

Shigaraki’s this close to saying yes, just to get you to leave, before he remembers what his room looks like – and remembers that he spent a while trying to see if grinding one out would work this time. He can’t kick you out of the hideout. You look like shit, and you’ll attract a lot of attention. “Fine. Shut up.”

“Yep.” You fold your arms on the bar and rest your head on them, shutting your eyes.

Even when you aren’t looking at him or talking, your presence bothers Shigaraki. It’s bothered him since the beginning – as much as he’s bothered by the others, in a different way than he’s bothered by the others. While the others can at least manage to avoid pissing Shigaraki off, there’s nothing you do that doesn’t cause some kind of problem. If you’re talking to him too much, he’s annoyed because he doesn’t know why you’re talking to him. If you’re not talking to him, he’s pissed about that, too. If you’re not around, he’s mad that you’re avoiding him, and if you are around, he wishes you weren’t. The fact that you’re here was a big problem for him even before he started having the dreams.

Shigaraki can’t remember the details of last night’s dream, but he knows you were in it. He pours himself a drink, takes the bottle with him, and sits down at the far end of the bar from you. You don’t look up again, and Shigaraki finishes his first drink, then half of his second, with no improvement on the situation. He shifts on the barstool, trying to get more comfortable. He needs to find something else to do. Something that will distract him from how stupidly horny he is.

You’re right there, and being irritated with you for doing anything at all is as good a distraction as anything else. “If all you’re doing is making a couple of heroes slightly dumber, you’re not really pulling your weight, are you?”

You don’t stir, but Shigaraki sees your shoulders stiffen. “What else should I be doing?”

“More,” Shigaraki says. You lift your head to look at him dead on, and Shigaraki hates that so much that he loses his train of thought for a second. “I don’t want them slightly dumber. I want them so stupid they can’t walk in a straight line. You have to get closer to them for that? So get closer. Get out of here and –”

“If I make them that stupid, the heroes will know that something’s wrong,” you interrupt. “My quirk’s in the government databases. If I do anything too obvious, they’ll know I’m working with you, and they’ll change their plans. Or they’ll change who they’re using to execute those plans. For my quirk to work on someone, I need to know who they are.”

Shigaraki knows how your quirk works. He’s not stupid. “I could do what you want me to do, but it would ruin your plans,” you say. “I don’t want to do that.”

“Then what do you want?”

“I wanted to take a nap,” you say. You sit up straight on your stool, get to your feet and start towards Shigaraki. “Now I want to know what I did to piss you off.”

You’re coming closer. Shigaraki feels a surge of panic. “Get away from me.”

“No.” You sit down one barstool away from Shigaraki, but still way too close for comfort. Shigaraki’s skin feels hot, and in spite of the fact that he left his room wearing sweatpants, they’re getting tight. “You let me join the League, but ever since I got here, I can’t do anything right. You’re mad at me all the time, and today you’re even madder than usual.”

“No, I’m not.”

“Yes, you are,” you say. You keep staring. Shigaraki looks away, and you say the first thing he’s ever heard you say that makes you sound like a villain. “Either you can tell me the truth, or I’ll use my quirk on myself and figure it out.”

Shigaraki’s stomach lurches. “I thought you were too tired to use your quirk.”

“Not on myself,” you say. Shigaraki glances back at you. You’re almost smiling. He’s seen you smile before, talking to Toga or Magne, but not like that. “You can tell me, or I’ll find out on my own. Your choice.”

You’re not screwing around. Shigaraki thinks fast. He could Decay you, but – Shigaraki writes off the thought before he can even complete it. He has to tell you something, and it has to be convincing. But he doesn’t have to tell you everything to keep you from using your quirk. It’s going to be humiliating, but nowhere close to as humiliating as the whole truth, and he opens his mouth and spits it out. “I’m horny.”

You blink. “So jerk off.”

“I can’t.” Shigaraki sees your eyebrows lift, skeptical as hell, and loses patience, even as his face heats up. “My quirk. Anything I touch with five fingers –”

“And you can’t jerk off without –” You break off mid-question, looking just as uncomfortable as Shigaraki feels. “So you’ve never –”

“No, I have, I just –” This is way more information than you need to know. Shigaraki grits his teeth. “You wanted an answer. There’s your answer. Leave me alone.”

You don’t leave Shigaraki alone. You actually move over onto the stool next to his. “So you’re just going to be a dick to me any time you’re horny.”

It’s your fault Shigaraki’s horny. Before you showed up, he could deal with things on his own, but now instead of videos and games to fixate on he has fantasies – because he can imagine about what you’d look like under him, what you’d sound like, what you’d feel like. All of which are the worst possible things for Shigaraki to be thinking about right now. He’s completely hard, again. Maybe you can tell, or maybe you’re using your quirk on him after all, because you’re making a really weird face. “If you’re going to be a dick any time you’re horny –”

You break off. Shigaraki thinks, fleetingly, about Decaying you. At this point he’d rather Decay himself, because if even he kills you, he’ll still have to remember that this happened. You take a deep breath, let it go. “Do you want help?”

Shigaraki’s mind blue-screens for a second. “What?”

“If this is why you’re like this, then it’s easy to fix,” you repeat. Your hands are clenched into fists on your thighs, and you slowly uncurl them. “Do you want me to help?”

“Help with what?”

“Jerking off,” you say. You make an awkward gesture, and every muscle in Shigaraki’s body goes tense as he imagines your hands around his cock. You have to be messing with him. There’s no way you’re actually offering – that. “Yes or no?”

“Yes.” Shigaraki finishes his drink and stands up before he can think any more about it. He grimaces as his cock strains against the fabric of his pants, and feels a surge of embarrassment when he realizes you’re looking at it – but it’ll be over soon. In the face of getting some, and getting it from you, nothing else matters. “Let’s go.”

Shigaraki’s nerves kick in on the walk back to his room. Not enough to make the hard-on he’s coping with fade even slightly, but enough to remind him that this is probably a bad idea. But you’re following him, and you haven’t changed your mind. Shigaraki’s not chickening out first. The nerves get worse when he opens the door to his room and realizes what a mess it is. “Uh –”

“Where do you usually sit?” You don’t look impressed – or disgusted, now that Shigaraki thinks about it. “On the bed?”

Shigaraki sits down on the bed – which he didn’t make, because he never makes it – and you sit down next to him. You don’t do anything. “I thought you were going to help me.”

“Show me what you do,” you say. Shigaraki stares at you. His heart is racing, his pulse hammering so hard that he feels it everywhere. “Go as far as you can, and then I’ll keep doing what you do.”

That makes sense, probably. Shigaraki’s mind is startling to scramble. He decides to think about it later and catches the hem of his shirt, hiking it up and out of the way. He knows from experience that it’ll slide back, so he pins it between his teeth and reaches down to his waistband, shoving at it until his pants are down around his thighs and his cock is free.

His hard-on looks like it feels. Uncomfortable, leaking, hot to the touch when he wraps three fingers and his thumb around his shaft. Shigaraki tries a few of the same insufficient strokes as always and feels the muscles in his abdomen and thighs clench. It’s not enough. It’s never enough. A frustrated sound edges out around the fabric in Shigaraki’s mouth. Aren’t you supposed to help him? He looks at you. You’re looking away.

“Hey,” Shigaraki says, the hem of the shirt falling from his mouth, and you look at him. “You wanted to help. Pay attention.”

Your face is flushed. You nod, and you reach out – but only so you can grasp the hem of Shigaraki’s shirt and pull it out of the way again, your knuckles brushing over his abdomen in a way that makes him twitch. You’re sitting closer to him now than you were before, close enough that he can almost feel the heat of your body, and imagine how it would feel to have you pressed against him. One of your hands is holding his shirt up. The other comes to rest on his lower abdomen, fingertips brushing through his hair, centimeters away from the base of his cock.

Shigaraki squirms involuntarily, trying to move your hand lower and jeopardizing his own strokes at the same time. Even when he lifts his hips to meet his own hand, he can’t lose control the way he wants to, can’t chase the feeling he needs. He needs it. He needs it and he’s never come even close to having it, until now. Shigaraki tries to focus. You’re only going to help once he’s gone as far as he can, so he’d better get there as fast as possible.

He shouldn’t have told you to pay attention. Now you’re watching everything, your face still flushed and your eyes glued to Shigaraki’s every move, taking everything in. Do you like this? Do you like watching Shigaraki’s pathetic attempts to get himself off? Whether you like it or not, you’re still touching him when you don’t have to. Shigaraki’s fingers tighten involuntarily around his cock, his fourth finger almost coming down, and he loosens up in a hurry. But that’s no good, either. He tries again.

It’s the same as always. Shigaraki makes it one or two strokes before it gets dangerous, enough to show him what he could have and not enough to get him there. He’s sweaty and his heart is beating too hard and the same frustrated tears as always are stinging his eyes. He curses, lets go – and a warm hand slides between his legs to replace his.

Shigaraki almost comes on the spot. It takes every ounce of willpower he has, and he almost blows it again as he watches you adjust your hold on him, shaping your hand more closely around his cock. You’re slow about it, but you sure as hell aren’t hesitant. Shigaraki can’t look for longer than a few strokes. It’s too humiliating to see the intensity of his own reaction, precum oozing from the tip of his cock and his hips jerking upwards into your hand. He clenches his jaw and shuts his eyes.

“Hey. Pay attention.” Are you making fun of him? Shigaraki opens his eyes and finds you looking at him. “I need to know if I’m doing it right.”

“What do you think?” Shigaraki forces the words out through gritted teeth. “Do you need me to tell you you’re doing a good job or something?”

“That might be nice,” you muse. Your hold on him loosens slightly – not enough to complain about, more than enough to read as a threat. “Since I can’t do anything else right around here, I at least want to be good at getting you off.”

Your grip tightens again, and you run your thumb lightly over the tip of Shigaraki’s cock at the end of the next stroke. Shigaraki couldn’t pull a move like that if his fucking life depended on it, which it would. He was going to tell you not to ask stupid questions, like if you’re good at getting him off when he’s two seconds away from blowing his load all over himself, but instead he moans, so loudly that people can probably hear it two streets away. You replay the same stroke, slower this time, pulling Shigaraki’s back into an arch to match the upward motion of your hand, and then you spend a few seconds just toying with his tip, barely touching him at all.

Are you trying to make him squirm? Shigaraki hates that it’s working, hates that you won’t just give him what he needs – but then you’re back to stroking his cock again, and Shigaraki relaxes, as much as it’s possible to relax. It feels good, even better than he thought it would. And even better than that, because he doesn’t have to do anything. All he has to do is sit back and enjoy it.

“Hold your shirt up,” you say, and Shigaraki grabs it clumsily. Your now-free hand traces quickly down Shigaraki’s chest, along his stomach, skidding sideways over his hip before sliding between his legs. There’s not room for both of your hands. Shigaraki spreads his legs without thinking twice.

You make a weird sound – maybe a gasp. “Stop that,” you say, but now you’re cradling his balls in addition to stroking his cock, so Shigaraki’s not interested in stopping much of anything. “It’s working.”

No shit it’s working. Shigaraki’s entire body is wound tight, so much that he can’t even twitch or thrust or squirm – all he can do is strain, agonizingly tense, every atom of his body focused on the motion of your hands. Shigaraki squeezes his eyes shut. His shirt crumbles away as he claws at it, the sheets on his bed going the same way a second later as he fights to ground himself. He needs more. Shigaraki needs to come right now, before he grabs onto something he can’t replace.

The word struggles out of his mouth sideways, twisted and strained just like the rest of him. “Please –”

You don’t answer him, but Shigaraki feels you shift closer to him. He opens his eyes and you’re right there, close enough that he can feel your breath against his skin. You’re watching him, head tilted, lips parted, so close. Shigaraki’s so close, and he needs more from you. He seizes the front of your shirt to pull you down to him, only for it to Decay when you’re halfway there. But Shigaraki gets lucky. You lean in the rest of the way and press your lips against his.

It’s not because of that. Shigaraki’s coming hard enough to see stars, hard enough that he blacks out for a second, but it’s not because you’re kissing him. His cum spills everywhere, onto his sweatpants and his stomach and over your fingers, and you keep stroking him with slick hands. You don’t pull away until Shigaraki’s whining against your mouth and you’ve drawn out every drop of cum he has to give.

And then you sit back, and let go, and look away. “I need a new shirt.”

You’re sitting next to him, on his bed, in just your bra. The sight would get Shigaraki hard again in an instant if you hadn’t just made him come hard enough to disconnect his spine. He raises a shaky hand and points to his hoodie, slung over the back of his computer chair, but you don’t go for it. Instead you get up and head to the bathroom to wash your hands.

Shigaraki needs to wash everything. His sweatpants, himself – the stupid mattress, since he was dumb enough to Decay the sheets off it right before he blew what feels like the biggest load in history. What else was he supposed to do, though? No way was he going to be able to control himself while you worked him over. No way is he going to be able to think about anything else the next time he sees you do anything with your hands. Or with your mouth.

It occurs to Shigaraki vaguely that while he’s solved the initial problem of being too horny to function, he’s set himself up for something even worse – more dreams, made all the more vivid because he’s got experience to back them up. He might be good to go for now. Probably for the rest of the day, since it’ll be a miracle if he can do anything other than clean up and take a nap. But he’ll be right back where he started the next time he wakes up from another dream about you.

The water from the sink shuts off, and a moment later you come back out, snagging Shigaraki’s hoodie off the chair and pulling it on over your bra. Shigaraki feels a faint twinge of foreboding at the sight, but it fades fast. Sure, he could wake up tomorrow morning with the boner from hell and it’ll be all your fault. But now he’s got a way out of it, and the way out of it is so good that what it takes to get there barely even matters. And he’s in a good enough mood to admit to himself that you do things right a lot more than you do things wrong.

Which reminds him – “Hey,” Shigaraki says, still humiliatingly breathless, and you pause in the act of pulling the hood up. “You did a good job.”

He might still be out of breath, but your face is still flushed. “Good,” you say, and you turn to leave. Shigaraki doesn’t hear you speak again until you’re already out the door. “Next time I’ll do better.”

Better might kill him. Next time. Shigaraki pulls up his sweatpants so his dick isn’t hanging out, makes no other effort at cleaning up, and falls asleep with something that feels like a smile on his face.