#to explore strange new worlds [ + ] threads

[bcnes-archived]

@finalfronticr said ; ❛  story of my life.  ❜ aos to tos bones baby !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

McCoy grunts in response to that, scanner hovering near the man's forehead. Minimal damage from what he can see, which is unsurprising, but you should never assume anything but the worst when dealing with a patient who's been knocked unconscious. Particularly if - if he's saying what McCoy thinks he's saying - this isn't exactly the first instance of such an injury. Hm. That might warrant further caution. "What, head trauma? I'd certainly hope it isn't, or this is gonna turn from a checkup into an overnight stay real fast."

Never mind that he's got nowhere to actually drag him off to if it comes to that, his current displacement being what it is. Threatening his patients is just sort of instinct. He's not sure what that says about him.

[bcnes]

continued from ( x ) with @aethramusings

"Actually I think that might be worse." It's not like he ever really forgets the thing's a robot, but sometimes it's... more robot-y than other times, and that's the point when it starts to become slightly creepy rather than very irritating.

At this point he's not really sure if the cat's just more interested in the medical division than any other part of the ship, or if he really did manage to - somehow - give it the misguided impression that he enjoys its constant company. He glances around the rec room, spots his long-suffering head nurse, and gestures across the room towards her.

"Listen, uh... Sox. Wouldn't you rather be spending your time chatting with Nurse Chapel right now instead? She's much better company. And I feel like she'd be a cat person."

[gffa]

I'm still trying to navigate my way through the absolute avalanche of Arcane fic, but I am here to scream at everyone about the fics I've loved so far and try to drag a few more of you down into this hellpit of feelings with me. It's nice down here, I promise! Totally normal and with soooo many hinges, nothing off a single hinge here!

JAYVIK RECS:

✦ To love is to risk the soul's quiet by Disguised_Bird, jayce/viktor, NSFW, 32.7k     When an anomaly suddenly transports an older, scarred version of Jayce into the Jayce of Viktor's timeline, the two must navigate the strange collision of past and future while grappling with feelings neither fully understands. As they work late into the night to find a way to send Jayce back, tension turns into intimacy, pushing Viktor to confront vulnerabilities he has spent a lifetime burying.

✦ Say My Name by Acryllic, jayce/viktor, NSFW, eventually post-canon, 77.2k wip     “Tell me now if you don’t want this.” He stroked Viktor’s bottom lip with his thumb, “Keep saying my name if you do.”

✦ This ain't goodbye no more, it just began by SirCumference, jayce/viktor, NSFW, 7.1k     After he and Viktor save the world, Jayce wakes up in his old bed on the day it all started. Things are different, this time.

✦ first times, second goodbyes by tragicperformer, jayce/viktor, NSFW, post-canon, 1.6k     “What do you mean pull out?” He teases, the corners of his lips quirking up into a stupid, dopey grin. “I have separation anxiety.” “Yes, I know,” Viktor intones. “We were just discussing this. It is why I’m currently visiting you, rather than focusing on my duties back in the commune.” “Yeah. And when I pull out, you’re going to leave again,” Jayce rationalizes. Not entirely incorrect. “Just a few minutes. Please, Vik? Let me pretend for a little longer.”

✦ The Threads of Our Mind by Darling_Pigeon, jayce/viktor, post-canon, 3k     Snapshot of Jayce and Viktor’s new life of exploration after the finale: Viktor helps Jayce adjust to his brace, but they discover they may be connected in another, strangely magical way.

✦ Time For Space by yurikazen, jayce/viktor, NSFW, post-canon, 6.6k     First, there’s a wave of blinding light, tearing through the cosmos like a free-falling comet. Then, Jayce opens his eyes to find a smooth, unfamiliar ceiling above his head. (Jayce dies, holding Viktor close to him, yet death is just another beginning.)

✦ two left feet by ChiliCheeseCornDog, jayce/viktor, 4k     Jayce rises from his seat, face set with a soft smile, and holds out his right hand with the palm facing up. “Let me teach you how.” The pause is long and unrelenting. “You are joking,” Viktor manages to say. or: Jayce teaches Viktor how to dance, Piltover-style.

✦ destabilise by antiparticular, jayce/viktor, 3.6k     Jayce was naked and in Viktor's bed. Don't get him wrong - Viktor had dreamed of this happening, both literally and on slow days in the lab when he was feeling particularly self-indulgent, but for it to manifest outside of his overactive imagination? He was half tempted to pinch himself to check he'd actually awoken. Why was Jayce Talis in Viktor's bed? And more pressingly, why did Viktor not remember?

✦ Run It Back Again by Withercrown, jayce/viktor & vander/silco & cast, 18.9k wip     Sometimes there's nothing you can do except scrap the whole experiment and start over. The worst possible outcome becomes an opportunity for a new beginning. Viktor and Jayce, estranged enemies in a brutal war, go back to the start - and then earlier than that. The key to their salvation ends up being an undercity brat named Silco. He's not quite the person they remember.

✦ Electric Desires by abisbookcase, jayce/viktor, NSFW, 1.2k     Viktor gets an important phone call in the middle of sex, and Jayce keeps fucking him roughly, trying to make him slip up while he talks.

✦ Between gears and parties by chaosheadspace, jayce/viktor, 3.6k     "Why do you think it is so hard for people like me to get a footing here?" Viktor asks. "Aside from the obvious classism, of course. I'll tell you. Bureaucracy. Do you know how difficult it is to even find a place to live without a last name up here?” Or: Jayce wants to save his partner some trouble and gets them married on paper.

ZAUNDADS RECS:

✦ Take Me Like You Mean It by Anonymous, vander/silco, NSFW, 2k     Young! Silco and Vander have sex in the alleyway behind the last drop after closing.

✦ Mr Eye of Zaun by limeta, vander/silco & jinx & vi & cast, 28.8k wip     Mylo and Claggor would say there’s nothing that scares Vi. She can dish out punches and evade danger better than anyone. She’s their fearless leader, always ready to take them on a job and back without losing anyone. It’s that level of assurance that they have in her, that confidence she exudes, that makes them trust and believe in her. But they’re wrong. Powder knows there’s something that scares Vi. And that’s because it scares Vander. Or: Silco reads the letter Vander left in the mines and sticks around as a boogeyman in the Last Drop.

✦ let fall the world by perfidiousalbion, vander/silco, nsfw, 4.2k     Or: before it all went wrong, Silco and Vander had something good.

✦ The Lives of Others by Lilbaebloo, vander/silco & ekko & benzo, NSFW, 5.1k     Ekko drops an emotional grenade on Silco and Vander when he brings up their fated night at the river thirteen years earlier. The plunge into the past reminds them both of how far they've come, together and apart, and what they have to keep living for.

✦ The Shore From Which I Fell by ClutchHedonist, vander/silco, NSFW, 1.2k     “I knew you still had it in you.” Silco’s mouth tastes of ash. His tongue, tacky and dry with the suffocating weight of it, threatens to stick to the roof of his mouth as his lips fall shut. He does his best to swallow past the whisper of bruising already blossoming in his throat where Vander’s broad hand has yet again left its mark.

✦ Night Business by spicedrobot, vander/silco, NSFW, rough sex, 2.6k     The rulers of Zaun play a game.

✦ While the world turns around by Blue_Daddys_Girl, vander/silco & jinx & benzo, 8.9k     In a chance meeting Vander sees Silco for the first time since the fateful day he's come to regret so deeply. Silco has changed—they both have. Vander can't stop thinking about him.

TIMEBOMB RECS:

✦ Little Crow by shroomyystar, ekko/jinx, 2.1k     There’s a monster under his bed.

✦ Let's Give It One Last Try by the_whole_shebang, ekko/jinx, post-canon, 12.3k     The war is finally over, and Ekko is finally home, but an old friend has one more favor to ask of him. Jinx found the strength to walk away, but something told her not to let go just yet. Maybe if Vi and Ekko hadn't given up on her yet, then she wouldn't either. Plus, thanks to Ekko, she was starting to think that the past wasn't as set in stone as she though it was.

✦ Let Me Try by Blue_Daddys_Girl, ekko/jinx, post-canon, 4.3k     Ekko walks away from the final battle in a daze after learning that Jinx is dead. Or: An alternate ending to the show, in which she isn't, no matter what Vi believes.

SOMETIMES THE SHIPS AREN'T THE POINT RECS:

✦ wait 'til your sister sees where you've been by QwahaXahn, vi & jinx & cast, post-canon, 12.9k     OR: Jinx falls. The bomb explodes. Everything goes white. ...And Vi wakes up in a different world.

✦ was it the worst you'd never know by Anonymous, jinx & silco, 2.2k     “Fix him,” she demands, voice barely decipherable through the breaking and raspiness from crying. Gentle, gentle, as gentle as Singed knows how to be, which is not very. Jinx will have no qualms killing him if he steps wrong. “He is… very far gone.” And indeed he is. His chest does not rise, and his eyes are vacant. He is gone. “FIX. HIM.” aka jinx refuses to let her father die and brings him to singed. it goes better than expected

✦ Six Weeks Since by argonautoida, jinx & viktor, 2.1k     Six weeks after Silco died, Jinx finally makes a friend.

[bcnes]

"Not even Scotty caught that lesson," McCoy mutters under his breath, running his hands under a sterilization field before rounding the side of the biobed.

( It's an unfair accusation to level at him, but McCoy feels entitled to a jab or two given Scotty's his most frequent patient by a country mile. He's had to move a dermal regenerator into their bathroom, for crying out loud. )

"You're alright, Ensign," he chuckles, either amused by the remark itself or by the young man's quick instinct to catch his tongue just a little too late. It's one of those things that tends to get wrung out of people after not too long in the 'Fleet— anybody vying for a command position, at the very least, learns to jump through Starfleet's hoops. Say the right things to the right people, hold your tongue at nearly every opportunity. He's watched Kirk play politics enough to get a very clear picture of that, thank you very much. Nobody ever says what they mean. They call it diplomacy.

Or maybe this kid'll wind up like McCoy and never learn his lesson. He kind of hopes that's the case.

"I might've thought the same if it weren't for the fact that they hide it every damn time." He waves a hand as a gesture for Jim to lie down as he flips on the monitor over the biobed. "Any other ship I'd have officers filing in with mild sprains and made-up diseases just to get off work. Round here I've got the exact opposite problem. They'll be half dead before they figure they oughta drag themselves over to sickbay. I've had to get after a department head or two about it many, many times. Spock's people are just as bad as Scotty's." He shakes his head. "No surprise there, though."

It took a lot of mental gymnastics to justify going to his physical like a normal person. Yes , everyone has to do them. And yes , it won't even take that long. But it's less that Jim fears getting an evaluation ( he never really had a problem with the doctors growing up , it wasn't until his dad left that he started truly getting cross with them ) and more that he fears the man giving it. The fear is mostly unfounded , and he supposes showing up willingly is a better first impression than having to be drug into the sickbay digging his heels into the Enterprise's floor.

When Doctor McCoy gestures to the empty biobed , he makes quick work of walking over to it and sitting himself down. ❛ You'd really think they'd have paid attention to the first three hours of the first Engineering class where they tell you "make sure to keep your fingers out of the way". ❜

He remembers when he was tinkering with things back on Montressor. Every time he so much as said the word "ow" his mother would come running. Trained him to be careful , at least.

He waits for the Doctor to finish what he's working on , looking around the Sickbay. An eyebrow raises as his gaze settles on the Lizard statue on the wall. Huh.

❛ It's really not that difficult. Sometimes I think they're doing it on purpose. ❜ But that's maybe not the best thing to say to one of your Chief Officers. ❛ I - I didn't mean that. ❜

[bunny-hwa]

Popular, Boy

☆03: The first betrayal.

Pairing: Nerd!Hongjoong x Popular!Reader

Genre: +18, slow burn, angst, smut, drama, dark academic, love triangle.

wc: 8,6k

Summary: Tensions simmer as alliances fracture , and lines are crossed; forcing one unexpected figure to take a stand. But every choice has a price, and betrayal lurks where it's least expected.

Leaving friendship and loyalties hanging by a thread.

Warnings: Cursing, verbal abuse, public humiliation, emotional manipulation, power dynamics, fluff, SMUT (MDN!!) Sub!Hongjoong, Virgin!Hongjoong, oral (m receiving) cum eating, use of pet names (good boy) suggestive.

Series masterlist

☆02 ☆04

The next few days passed in a whirlwind of your world enveloping Hongjoong entirely.

On monday, you made a show of having Hongjoong walk you to class, your hand looped through his arm as if he were some prized accessory. Your laugh rang out in the hallway, over-exaggerated yet charming enough to keep everyone’s attention firmly on you.

Hongjoong smiled sheepishly, still unsure how to navigate this new role. Despite your guidance, he couldn’t shake the feeling of being out of place, like a puzzle piece forced into the wrong picture.

By Tuesday afternoon, your curiosity got the better of you.

"You’re always talking about books and nerdy stuff." You teased, leaning against the library’s entrance "Show me what’s so interesting about it."

He blinked in surprise, adjusting the strap of his backpack. He wasn’t sure if you were serious or just looking for another way to flaunt your dominance. Still, the chance to share a piece of himself was oddly appealing.

"Uh, okay." He said, leading you to a quiet corner of the library.

You trailed behind, your heels clicking softly against the tiled floor. When you reached the shelves, Hongjoong’s demeanor shifted. His posture relaxed as he ran his fingers along the spines of the books, his face lighting up in a way you hadn’t seen before.

"This one’s incredible," He said, pulling a worn paperback from the shelf. The cover featured a pirate ship hurtling through the clouds. "It’s about a crew exploring the universe, trying to find a new home after their planet’s destroyed. The writing is just… amazing."

You arched a brow, your manicured nails tapping lightly against the edge of a nearby table. "Sounds... intense."

"It is," Hongjoong replied eagerly, flipping through the pages "But it’s also about relationships and survival. You’d like it, I think."

You leaned closer, taking the book from him, inspecting it like a rare artifact "You think I’d like it? Bold assumption."

Hongjoong chuckled nervously "Well, maybe not the battles. But the characters… they’re complicated, just like you."

Your lips curved into a smirk, and you handed the book back "Careful, Hongjoong. You’re starting to sound charming."

You spent the next hour browsing, with Hongjoong pointing out his favorite authors and you occasionally picking up a book just to make a witty comment about its cover. It was strange, almost surreal.

YN Clarke, the queen bee, immersed in his world.

At one point, you plopped down on a cushioned chair and crossed your legs elegantly.

"Okay, impress me." You said, holding out a slim notebook you had pulled from your bag. He hesitated, then sat across from you, scribbling a quick sketch of the pirate ship he’d described earlier. He showed it to you shyly, half-expecting a sarcastic remark. Instead, you studied it thoughtfully. "Not bad," You admitted, handing it back "Maybe you’re not as boring as I thought."

Your words were teasing, but the tone was softer, almost approving.

For the first time, Hongjoong felt like you were seeing him, not as a project or a pawn, but as something more. But just as quickly as the moment came, it passed.

You stood, brushing imaginary dust off your skirt "Alright, nerd. Let’s go. I’m starving."

"Where to?" He asked, slipping the notebook back into his bag.

"Back to my place," You said with a wink "You can show me more of your… fascinating hobbies while we snack."

As you left the library, Hongjoong couldn’t help but feel a strange mix of pride and unease. Your approval was addictive, but at what cost?

That afternoon was spent at your house, watching movies or listening to music in your plush room. You sprawled out on your bed, phone in hand, while Hongjoong sat awkwardly on the edge.

"You can relax, you know," You teased, patting the space beside you.

He hesitated before joining you, feeling your warmth radiate beside him. You tilted your head to look at him, your lips curving into a soft, knowing smile.

"See? This isn’t so bad."

By Wednesday, you had fully integrated Hongjoong into your routine. You sit with him at lunch, laughing at his jokes, and an odd sincerity in your gaze when you look at him.

For a moment, the lingering tension, the unspoken dynamics, and the ever-watchful shadow of Dann keeps Hongjoong’s heart uneasy, even as he tries to enjoy the fleeting comfort of your charm.

Little did you know, the world you were teetering on the edge of, was about to shift once again.

✮ ⋆

That same day, the tension between Seonghwa and you had reached a boiling point. It wasn’t just about your weird relationship anymore, it was about the power shift that Hwa couldn’t ignore.

You had been spending all your time with the nerd, and he couldn’t stand being sidelined.

At lunch, Seonghwa makes his move.

You are at your usual table, Hongjoong at your side, your heads bent close as you laugh over some private joke. His jaw tightens at the sight.

Without waiting for an invitation, he walks over, towering above you “YN,” He says curtly, his voice cutting through your laughter “We need to talk.”

You barely glance up, your gaze cool. “About what?”

“Alone.” He insists, his tone sharp.

Your lips curl into a faint smirk “If it’s so important, you can say it here.”

Seonghwa’s eyes flicks to Hongjoong, who stiffs slightly under his gaze ��Fine,” He says tightly, crossing his arms “What’s with you? Ever since the party, it’s been all about him.” He jerks his chin toward Hongjoong “You’ve barely said two words to me.”

“So?”

Seonghwa let out a bitter laugh “You’re unbelievable. I get it now. He’s your new toy, right? Your latest project… What’s the plan, YN? To make him worship you till you get bored?”

Your eyes narrow as you rise slowly from your seat, meeting Seonghwa head-on “You’ve got some nerve, Park. Is this jealousy? Or are you just mad that you’re no longer the center of my world?”

He steps closer, his voice lowering but his words sharper “You think I’m mad because you’re ignoring me? No, Clarke. I’m mad because I know you, and I know how this ends. You ignore me and then come back to me like nothing happened, it's tiring.”

“Stop complaining, I can handle myself.”

“Can you?” Hwa shoots back, leaning in slightly, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. “What would your brother think if he knew about your little extracurricular activities? The drinking? The parties? The weed?”

Hongjoong frowns at his words. Brother? Do you have a brother?

Your composure cracks further. The mention of your older brother makes your stomach twist. You could almost feel the sting of his hand across your face, the disappointed look in his eyes as he coldly tells your parents everything.

“Careful, Hwa. You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, I know plenty. Imagine if your brother finds out. What’s his name again? Oh, right—Mr. Perfect. He still thinks you’re his sweet, innocent little sister, doesn’t he?” Seonghwa grinds, he isn’t done “How do you think he would react if he found out about all the bad things you've done since he left? Or better yet, how do you manipulate people and toss them aside like trash? Bet he wouldn’t be too proud of his baby sister then.”

“You wouldn’t dare.” You say between your teeth, almost a murmur.

“Oh, I would,” His grin gets bigger “He’s abroad, isn’t he? Perfect son, perfect man... but if he found out about all this?” He gestures vaguely around “How long before he tells your parents? Or better yet, how long before he comes back and shows you what happens when you ruin his perfect family image?”

For a moment, all your confidence falters. Your heart racing at the memory of your brother… your parents’ golden child, the one person you couldn’t afford to disappoint. But you recover quickly, your smirk returning like armor.

“Nice try, Seonghwa. But let’s not forget that you have secrets too. Drinking? Drugs? You think your parents wouldn’t care? You’re a Park. Your last name is everything. What would your father say if he knew his precious son was sneaking around doing God-knows-what? How long do you think that reputation of yours would last?” Hwa’s smirk froze, his confidence visibly shaken for the first time “That’s what I thought,” You continue with an icy voice “So don’t come at me with fucking threats unless you’re prepared to deal with the fallout.”

He scoffs, his frustration evident as he turns and walks away “You’ll regret this.” He mutters under his breath before disappearing into the crowd.

As Seonghwa walks away, your mask slips for just a second, jaw clenching and your eyes flashing with anger and fear.

Hongjoong frowns confused “What was that about? Is he threatening you?”

You exhale sharply, brushing off his concern “Don’t worry about it. Seonghwa’s all talk.”

But your voice lacks its usual conviction, and Hongjoong isn't entirely convinced.

As you return to your conversation, your mind churns, plotting your next move. Whatever it takes, you’d make sure your secrets stay buried.

✮ ⋆

After lunch, your mood seemed lighter to anyone who didn’t know you well, but Hongjoong could see the subtle tension in your shoulders, the slight edge to your voice.

You barely touched your food, and your eyes kept darting around the cafeteria, likely searching for Seonghwa.

As the bell rings and students begin to shuffle to their next classes, you grab Hogjoong’s arm, pulling him close

“We’re skipping.” You announce, leaving no room for argument.

“What? YN, I can’t—”

“You can, and you will.” You interrupt him, locking your gaze with his “I need to relax, and you’re going to help me. Now come on.”

Without waiting for a response, you drag him through the hallway, your grip firm as you lead him to a quiet, empty classroom on the far side of the building.

“YN, what’s going on?” He asks as you close the door behind you, the soft click of the lock making his heart race.

You turn to face him, your expression unreadable for a moment before a sly smirk creeps into your lips.

“You’re going to make me forget about Seonghwa and his stupid threats.”

Hongjoong blinks, caught off guard by your sudden shift in tone “What does that mean?”

“It means,” You step closer to him, your fingers toying with the collar of his shirt “That I need a distraction. And you’re it.”

His breath hitch as your hands slid to his chest “YN, I don’t think—”

“Stop thinking, Kim.” You whisper, lips brushing against his ear “Just do what I say.”

Before he can respond, you press yourself against him, your lips finding his in a heated kiss. His resolve crumbles almost instantly, his hands finding your hips as you deepen the kiss.

You push him back against the desk, movements confident and calculated. As you straddle him, your fingers trail teasingly along the waistband of his pants, your touch light but deliberate, as you glance up at him with a sly smirk.

He holds his breath for a sec, his hands gripping your hips tightly. He looks down at you, wide-eyed and unsure, but there is no mistaking the nervous excitement that flickers in his gaze.

“You’re so tense, Joongie.” You purr with a soft but teasing tone “Relax. I’ll take care of everything.”

Your fingers toy with the fabric for a moment longer before tugging gently, letting his pants slide down his hips, and letting free his length already hard as a fuck.

Is he hard with just a few kisses? Cute

Taking a deliberate step closer, your hands gliding up his thighs as you position yourself between his legs, arching your back as you go down on your knees, your smirk growing as you notice the way his whole body tenses.

Hongjoong’s feels his face burning, his breath coming in short, shallow bursts as he struggles to meet your gaze. He swallows hard, trying to focus on breathing, but his chest feels tight, like all the air has been sucked out of the room.

He's never been in situations like this before, he doesn't know what to do. He doesn't know where to look, at your hands, at your face, at the classroom door, but his eyes keep drifting back to you, to you in a way he can't control.

He doesn't want to give you any more signs of his embarrassing virginity, but he can't help but feel tense.

“You look like you’re about to pass out.” A soft chuckle leaves your lips, the panic in his eyes seems tender to you “Relax, babe. Just enjoy it.”

His voice cracks as he tries to respond, but all that comes out is a strangled sound. You raise an eyebrow, clearly enjoying his reaction. You let your hands glide up his sides, nails grazing his skin ever so lightly.

“Do you want me to suck you off?” You inquire, looking up, connecting your gaze with his. You wait patiently for an answer by stroking his skin with your fingertips.

Shit, Hongjoong doesn't want to accept it, but you look fucking cute that way.

Kneeling in front of him.

Hongjoong’s jaw drops slightly, and he nods so quickly it's almost comical “Y-Yeah… please.” He stammers, his words barely audible.

“Good boy.” You murmur with a satisfied grin, your fingers brushing over his trembling hands as you guide one up to your head “Hold on if you want. I don’t mind.”

His touch is hesitant, his fingers barely tangling in your soft hair as if he is afraid to push too far. You roll your eyes with a playful smirk, your hands holding his thighs steady as you lean in.

His thick cock is firmly against his stomach, it has a deep shade of pink, and some pre-cum at the tip, its the prettiest dick you've ever seen.

Everything about Kim Hongjoong is pretty.

You hold the base, your fingers barely touching the skin, you start slow with kitty licks on the tip as you test his reactions. Hongjoong’s breaths come in uneven gasps, his chest rising and falling as he tries to process everything happening.

Your hands hold his thighs firmly, keeping him grounded, but his body seems to move on its own, shifting slightly as he instinctively searches for more.

He squeezes his eyes shut, biting his lip to keep from making a sound when suddenly you put all his length in your mouth, the warm feeling of your lips around his dick make his head spin in pleasure.

Soft whimpers escape him as he tilts his head back slightly, relaxing under your touch, enjoying the moment.

Fuck, he never understood why his male classmates always talked about blowjobs as if it were the best thing in the world, and now that he is in this situation, he understands them.

The warm feeling of your mouth around him, the wet sound that comes every time you bob your head, your hand stroking where your mouth can't reach, and the pleasure sounds you let out while savoring every little inch of his cock.

Goddammit! This is the best experience a virgin boy could have.

You glance up at him, relishing the way his head tilts back, his lips part, and his entire being is consumed by the sensation.

Every gasp, and every shaky exhale from his mouth feeds your ego.

“You’re so easy to please.” You tease, pulling back just enough to flash him a knowing smile.

His voice is barely a whisper as he mutters.

“YN, I…”

“Shh.”

As you continue sucking him off, you caress his thighs, and try to enjoy every part of his length. Savoring every inch of his dick, the softness of his tip stroking the back of your throat, the taste of the pre-cum on your tongue…

Fuck, you’re getting more than horny for this nerd.

Hongjoong feels himself nearing the edge, his breaths coming faster, his grip on your hair tightening just slightly causing you to whine. His whole body trembles, his hips moving involuntarily as he tries to hold on, but it's too much.

He is literally fucking your mouth, you couldn't be anything but happy, and your satisfied moan made it clear.

“Fuck… I-I’m close.” He whines with shaky breath, his hips moving a little faster.

You almost let out another whine when you hear him curse for the first time, you didn't think hearing it would make your skin crawl with excitement.

Motivated by the sweet sounds coming out of his lips, you move your head faster, applying more force with your tongue.

Hongjoong gets louder, forgetting where he is for a moment. His gasps turn into soft, needy whimpers, his free hand clutching at the desk behind him as if it was the only thing keeping him on the ground, and with one final moan, he finally reaches his limit, his whole body tenses, his breath catching in his throat as a broken moan escapes him.

“Shit…”

His vision is hazy, but he can appreciate the way you swallow all his load, licking every drop like it's your last meal.

He closes his eyes cursing internally, that is the hottest thing he's ever seen and experienced in his fucking life.

The best of all? It was with you.

When you pull back, just a little to watch his pretty face. You smirk to yourself, knowing that you have him completely undone. A satisfied grin spreads across your face as he slumps back against the desk, utterly tired.

When he finally regulates his breathing, Hongjoong can't bring himself to meet your eyes, his face burning with embarrassment and something else…. something like awe.

“See? Told you I’d take care of it.” You say smugly, standing and cleaning the edge of your mouth, removing any traces of lipstick.

Hogjoong looks up at you, his face red, his chest still heaving “I… I don’t even know what to say.”

You giggle “Don’t say anything.” His tender demeanor makes you laugh a little “Just remember who made you feel this good.”

You approach him to give him one last kiss, Hogjoong groans, he can taste himself in your mouth.

When you break the kiss he looks at you with something new in his eyes, you're not sure what it is, but as long as he's by your side doing everything you ask without question, you won't complain.

From that day on, Hongjoong could only think about you and the amazing first blowjob he received that day.

Maybe he should thank Seonghwa for making you angry.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

That week had been amazing for you and Hongjoong, every interaction and every moment made you feel genuinely closer, and not only because of the small deal you made that day in the school's garden.

There was something more between the two of you but you didn't want to accept it.

However; that whole week was a martyrdom for Dann, you keeped asking her to do uncountable tasks that she can barely have time to do on her own.

In the mornings before going to school, you asked her to bring you breakfast in bed, to organize some things in your backpack, and to carry the books or folders with the work she did for you.

During school hours, you asked her to bring your things to your classroom and a matcha latte before the first class started. At lunch she would go get your and your friends' food.

She looked like a small waitress going from one end to the other with trays in hand.

And when she thought she could rest at home, you called her to do your homework and projects, in addition to cleaning your room, which by the way there was nothing to clean anymore... you just wanted her to waste her time.

One of the things that bothered Dann the most was the fact that not only did you order her what to do, but your friends also asked her to do small errands when they visited your home.

'I'm not their servant,' she used to repeat when Mindy or someone else asked her for something, but your strong gaze and your perfect raised eyebrow forced her not to reproach and to do what they asked.

She was tired, tired of your orders and mistreatment. The worst of all is that no one could help her. Your parents, especially your dad, were okay with you treating her like your personal doll, so she couldn't complain to them.

On the other hand, her mother could only look at her with pity every time your voice calling for her was heard. Dann complained every day to his mother about the things you made her do and she just hugged her, patted her on the back and said it would all be over soon....

But when will it be that, a week has passed and she feels desperate for this martyrdom to end.

Another thing that bothered Dann was the fact that Hongjoong was by your side all the time and watched the daily humiliations without doing anything, without defending her.

They're not supposed to be friends? Why doesn't he defend her as she did several times?

“I want to go shopping.”

Your voice slices through the fog of Dann’s thoughts, yanking her back to reality. She blinks at you with a blank expression, already bracing herself for whatever new errand or degrading task you have in mind.

“Have fun.” Hongjoong says casually, flashing one of his rare, easygoing smiles.

Your perfectly manicured fingers gently swat his arm, your playful grin in stark contrast to the command that follows “You’re coming with me, silly.”

He blinks, taken aback “Wait, me?” He asks, the confusion on his face almost comical.

“Of course. You don't want to come with me?” You tilt your head, feigning innocence, but the glint in your eyes reveals your true intention. You weren't asking him, you were telling him.

Hongjoong hesitates for a moment, his gaze flicking toward Dann, who shrinks back into herself, pretending not to listen.

“I... uh—”

You cut him off, stepping closer and lowering your voice “Don’t tell me you’re saying no, Kim Hongjoong.”

He responds immediately to your harsh tone when saying his name “Shopping it is.”

You clap your hands together in mock excitement “Perfect! You can meet me outside in ten minutes. Oh,” You turn to Dann, a sickly sweet smile spreading across your face, “And you’re coming too. I’ll need someone to carry my bags.”

Dann’s stomach knots as she swallows back a retort. She wants to argue, to tell you she has better things to do, but the cold, expectant look you throw her way dares her to say otherwise.

“I’ll... grab my things.” Dann mutters, her voice barely above a whisper.

You watch her retreating figure with a satisfied smirk, then you turn back to Hongjoong, your tone softening “We’re going to have a lot of fun!”

✮ ⋆

The luxury mall gleams under the bright lights, filled with the chatter of shoppers and the faint sound of background music. You move through the aisles of an upscale clothing store with an air of authority, Hongjoong walks beside you gladly holding your hand while Dann follows at a distance, burdened with shopping bags that seem to multiply by the minute.

You pause your walk in front of a mannequin dressed in a sharp blazer and slim-fit pants.

“This is perfect for you.” You turn to Hongjoong, your eyes scanning him with a mix of scrutiny and mischief “Put it on. Let me see.”

He hesitates, glancing at the price tag “It's so expensive.”

You step closer, your fingers brushing lightly against his as you take the tag out of his hand.

“Don’t look at the price. Your only job is to look good for me.” Hongjoong’s cheeks flush, but he nods and takes the blazer to the fitting room. You turn to Dann, your smirk widening “Careful, Dann. Those bags are worth more than your tuition. Don’t drop them.”

Dann glares at you, but she says nothing, her grip tightening on the handles.

Moments later, Hongjoong reemerges, the blazer fitting him like it was tailored just for him.

Your eyes light up as you clap your hands “I knew it! You look incredible, Joongie!”

You step closer, tugging at the lapels to adjust them. Your hands linger, smoothing the fabric over his chest before trailing down to his forearm. Hongjoong stands frozen, his breath catching as your touch sends a spark through him.

It's only been two days since that incredible blowjob, an act too intimate in his opinion, but he still can't help but feel shy about your touch and presence in general.

You lean teasingly close enough that he can feel your breath “I might just keep you dressed like this all the time. You look hot.”

Hongjoong chuckles nervously, his face bright red. Your lips curve into a sly smile, and before he can react, you lean in, brushing your lips softly against his mouth. Giving him a little peak.

“Consider it a reward for being such a good boy.”

He feels his ears burn, and his pulse racing at the sudden show of affection. Also; that pet name makes him feel something he shouldn't.

Dann, standing a few feet away, shifts uncomfortably, her expression a mix of bitterness and hurt.

✮ ⋆

You are sitting in a plush chair, slipping on a pair of sleek red stilettos. You stretch your leg out, admiring the way the shoes accentuate your figure. Hongjoong sits nearby, fidgeting with the hem of his shirt, while Dann sits on a bench surrounded by luxury brand bags with all your purchases.

You glance up at Hongjoong with a mischievous smile “What do you think? Pretty?”

You tilt your foot, the curve of the stiletto catching the light.

Hongjoong stammers, his eyes darting nervously “Uh… They’re… pretty.”

“Is that all you’ve got?”

You stand, crossing the short distance to him. Placing your hands on the arms of his chair, leaning closer, your face inches from his.

“Say it like you mean it, Joong.”

He swallows hard, his voice barely above a whisper “You’re stunning.”

You smirk, clearly pleased. You straighten up, brushing a hand lightly across his shoulder as you walk back to your seat.

“That 's better. I like it when you’re honest.”

Dann shifts awkwardly, her eyes darting between you two. You notice and smirk again,

“We’ll take these. And those boots too.” You say to the salesperson with a sweet smile.

“YN, you really don’t need to buy me things.”

“Hongjoong…” You cut him off as you step closer again “I want to do it.”

Your thumb brushes lightly over his shirt, and he nods, his breath hitching.

Dann looks away, her face tight as she pretends not to notice.

✮ ⋆

All of you step out into the cool evening air, the weight of the shopping bags palpable, well… at least for Dann.

You walk confidently ahead, your hand joined with Hongjoong's was becoming a habit, casual intimacy.

“See? That wasn’t so bad, was it? Shopping is fun.” You tease with a grin.

Hongjoong chuckles nervously, his gaze darting to the bags Dann carries.

“I feel bad, though. About, you know… her.”

Your smile falters slightly, but you recover quickly, tightening your grip on his hand.

“She needs this. It’s character building.” You stop abruptly, turning to face him. Your free hand reaches up to toy with the collar of his denim jacket “And you need this too. You’re not the same guy you were last week, Hongjoong.” You lean in, your lips capturing his, lingering just enough to make his knees weak “You’re mine now. Don’t forget that.”

Hongjoong nods, his heart pounding as you lead him to your car.

Behind you, Dann struggles to keep up, her expression a mixture of bitterness and heartbreak.

YN and Hongjoong holding hands.

YN brushing her lips against his in fleeting, possessive kisses.

YN laughing, her voice light and carefree, while Hongjoong smiled at her like she hung the stars.

Each glance they shared felt like a dagger. It wasn’t just the weight of the bags that left Dann breathless; it was the sight of Hongjoong, her Joong, so completely absorbed into your orbit.

Dann swallows the lump in her throat as a sharp ache settles in her chest. She had known this day would come…. the day Hongjoong is fully absorbed into your world, but it didn’t make it any easier.

For every bag she carried, there was another piece of herself being stripped away, replaced by bitter envy and an unbearable sense of invisibility.

By the time they reached your sprawling mansion, the sun was dipping below the horizon, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink. The estate was as imposing as ever, with its perfectly manicured lawns and grand double doors.

You toss your keys to the porter, your demeanor as effortless and commanding as always.

“Let’s head up to my room,” You say, turning to Hongjoong with a smile that could light up the night “Snacks and a movie sound good?”

Hongjoong hesitates, glancing at Dann, who stands at the base of the grand staircase, clutching the bags like they were her lifeline.

It's not the first time he's spent the afternoon at your house, but having Dann right there watching your interactions makes guilt consume him.

“Uh… yeah, sure.” He mumbles, torn between your intoxicating pull and the pang of remorse that lingers whenever he sees Dann.

“Dann.” You call sharply, breaking Hongjoong’s thoughts “Take these up to my closet. Organize everything by type and color. Oh! And tell your mom to bring up snacks for us in ten minutes.”

Dann’s stomach churn, but she nods, her jaw tightening as she obeys.

Inside your room, the atmosphere is a world away from the cold detachment of the mansion downstairs. The expansive space is bathed in soft pastel tones, luxurious fabrics, and delicate lighting from the ornate chandeliers.

Despite its size and splendor, the room always feels surprisingly intimate.

You plop into the oversized bed, tossing your designer heels to the floor without care as you pat the spot beside you, looking at Hongjoong with an expectant smirk.

“Come on, don’t be weird about it. Sit.”

Hongjoong sits down, his posture stiff despite the number of times he's been there now. You roll your eyes, leaning into him with playful ease. “Relax, Joongie. I don’t bite… unless you want to.” You tease, running a hand lightly over his arm.

He gives you a little shy smile, but says nothing.

The movie began playing on the massive screen, though neither of you seemed particularly interested in it. You lean back against his shoulder, your head resting there comfortably.

You grab a handful of popcorn from the tray one of the maids had just delivered, holding a piece up to his lips, fingers brushing against his mouth as you feed him, and you smirk when you notice him blush.

As Hongjoong grows more comfortable, his gaze wanders around your room. His eyes caught on a silver-framed photo on your nightstand. It shows you smiling—truly smiling—beside a tall, impeccably dressed man with striking features.

“Is he your brother? The one that Seonghwa mentioned that day?” He asks cautiously, nodding toward the photo.

Your teasing smirk falters for a moment, and your body stiff slightly against him. You sit up and grab the frame, holding it in your hands as your eyes trace over the image.

“Yeah… That’s Mike.”

Hongjoong sense a shift in your tone, the lightness replace by something far heavier “I didn't know you had a brother.”

“Almost no one knows, only a few. He’s... perfect. The perfect son, the perfect student, the perfect everything.” Your fingers grip the frame a little tighter “He’s the reason I’ll never be good enough for my parents, no matter what I do.”

He frowns, leaning in slightly “YN...”

You force a small laugh, though it sounds hollow “He’s studying abroad now, getting his business master’s degree. Every time he comes back, it’s just to remind me how much better he is at everything. And if he ever found out about... stuff, he’d make sure my parents knew. It’d be game over for me.”

Your words falter as if Seonghwa’s voice still echoes in your mind from that day in the cafeteria.

'How do you think he would react if he found out about all the bad things you've done since he left?'

Hongjoong shifts closer, his hand resting gently on yours as you hold the photo “YN, nobody’s perfect—not even him. And you’re not... you’re not as bad as you think you are.”

You look at him, lips pressing into a tight line “You don’t know him, Hongjoong. He would... he’d destroy me if he knew half the things I’ve done.” Your voice cracks slightly, and you quickly look away.

Hongjoong hesitates before squeezing your hand gently “Maybe he’s not as invincible as you think. Maybe he’s got his own flaws, like everyone else.”

You let out a bitter laugh, wiping at your eye quickly as if you would never show vulnerability for too long.

“That’s generous of you.”

“No, it’s honest. You’re more than whatever shadow he’s cast over you. I mean it.”

For a moment, you just stare at him. Your usual sharpness seems to melt away, replaced by something softer, something raw. Then you set the photo back on the nightstand, your hand lingering on it briefly.

“Thanks…” You murmur, so softly it's almost inaudible.

He leans back with you again, letting you rest your head on his shoulder once more. Neither of you say anything, but the silence isn’t uncomfortable.

It’s a rare moment of understanding, one they both seem to need.

As Dann carries the bags upstairs, she hears the faint sounds of your laughter and Hongjoong’s responses through the closed bedroom door.

Her heart twists, the weight of the shopping bags nothing compared to the invisible burden she carries.

Dann unpacks the bags in your enormous closet, her hands moving automatically as her mind replays every painful moment of the day. When she finishes, she sits on the edge of your chaise lounge, staring at the floor.

From the hallway, she hears soft laughter and murmurs from your room, each sound a reminder of how far you and Hongjoong have drifted apart.

Her mother passes by with a tray of tea, her face tight with worry as she glances at her daughter. Dann gives her a weak smile, but as the door to your room closes behind her mother, the bitterness and heartbreak she’d been holding back finally spills over.

She sits in silence, the faint echoes of your laughter stabbing at her like tiny needles.

In that grand mansion filled with people, Dann had never felt so utterly alone.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

Once again, Dann sighs tired while she organizes your and your friends' drinks on the table.

“Careful, Dann. If you spill anything, that’s just more work for you.”

She wants to roll her eyes at your words but she doesn't want to make a scene.

“Honestly, she should be thanking you, YN. Who else would give her such a generous chance to repay her debt?”

Dann places the drinks carefully on the table, her hands trembling slightly from exhaustion and frustration. She doesn’t reply to those sharp comments, knowing that any response could worsen her situation.

Mindy laughs, taking a sip of her coffee “She’s like your little pet now, Babe. So obedient.”

Dann grits her teeth but keeps her head down, focusing on arranging the drinks neatly “I’m not a pet.”

You raise an eyebrow, your sharp ears catching the quiet defiance “What was that, Dann?”

Dann stiffens, her hands clenching into fists by her sides. She looks up, meeting your cold gaze with as much courage as she can muster.

“I said I’m not a pet.”

The table goes silent for a moment, the air thick with tension. You lean back in the chair, crossing your legs elegantly. Your lips curve into a dangerous smile.

“Not a pet? Funny, because you’re doing a pretty good impression of one. Running around, fetching drinks, doing homework. Should I get you a designer leash next?”

Mindy and the others burst into laughter, and Dann feels her face burn with humiliation.

“YN, maybe that’s a bit much…” Hongjoong quietly, almost hesitantly says.

“Oh, now you have something to say? Where was this energy all last week when she was crying about carrying my books?”

Hongjoong looks down, not daring to meet your eyes. Dann glances at him, hoping for some semblance of solidarity, but he avoids her gaze entirely.

You sigh dramatically and turn your attention back to Dann “Now, Dann, let’s be clear. You ruined an expensive dress, so until I say otherwise, you’re working for me. Unless you’d rather I take the cost straight from your mom’s paycheck?”

Dann’s breath catches, and she clenches her fists tighter “No... I’ll keep working.”

“Good girl. Now, you’ve wasted enough time here. Go grab some snacks.”

Dann hesitates, her pride fighting against the inevitable, but ultimately she turns and walks toward the counter.

“Anyways, tomorrow I won't come, my father has a billion-dollar meeting and important executives will have dinner at my house, so don't miss me too much.” You drink your smoothie gracefully and your friends laugh.

“That's right, queen, I hope your dad gets those billions and can go on that summer trip that we have planned.”

“Of course it will be, my daddy is the best at his job.”

When Dann returns to the table, you look up at her with a saccharine smile “Took you long enough. Now clean this up, and make it quick. We’re leaving soon.”

Dann nods silently, her head low, as she leaves the snacks on the table and starts cleaning it. Her chest feels heavy, but she pushes the feelings down, knowing there’s no use fighting back.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

It’s a rare day at school without you on her all the time. Dann feels a strange mix of relief and unease knowing you are back at your mansion, preparing for your father’s dinner.

With no errands to run for you, Dann finally has a moment to herself.

She sits quietly in the library with Jongho, Yeosang and Yunho, all of them engrossed in a shared book, when Hongjoong unexpectedly joins them.

“Hey, guys.” He greets them happily.

“Aren't you going to play at being popular today?” Jongho makes fun of him and he rolls his eyes while taking a seat next to Yunho.

“She is not here today Jongho….” Dann murmurs without taking her eyes out of the book, but then she frowns, looking at Hongjoong “Wait, why aren’t you with her friends? Did they give you the day off, too?”

“As you said, YN is not here. Why should I stay with her annoying friends? I prefer to hang out with you guys.” Hongjoong shrugs, smiling to see his friends here.

“Why?” Yeosang narrows his eyes at him.

This looked suspicious, for two weeks he ignored them as if they hadn't been friends since high school, and now he's coming back as if nothing happened.

“What do you mean, why? Can’t I just hang out with my friends?”

Yunho raises an eyebrow “We haven’t exactly been friends since... well, since you started following YN like a dog.”

Hongjoong lowers his gaze in sorrow “That’s not fair. Things are complicated with her.”

Jongho snorts “Complicated? That’s a nice way of putting it. You mean stupidity.”

Hongjoong shifts uncomfortably but doesn’t respond right away. Instead, he glances at the book in their hands.

“You’re still into these epic fantasy novels, huh? Guess some things never change.”

Yunho smiles softly “And you’re still into coding, I bet. Or did YN ban you from being a nerd?”

Everyone laughs at the tallest funny remark, even Hongjoong does.

“I sneak in some nerd time when she’s not looking.”

They fall into a familiar rhythm, talking about things they used to enjoy together. Books, games, and small, silly inside jokes.

For the first time in what feels like forever, they see a glimpse of the Hongjoong they used to know.

They had missed him a lot, but just as they’re laughing about an old shared memory, Mindy, one of your closest friends, spots them from across the library and strides over, her heels clicking against the floor.

“Well, isn’t this cozy? The nerd squad back in action.” She mocks.

“What do you want, Mindy?” Jongho is the first one to confront her.

“Oh, nothing. Just making mental notes for YN. You know how she gets when people step out of line, right Dann?”

“Why don’t you mind your own business for once?” She closes her book suddenly feeling angry at Mindy’s presence.

Mindy ignores her words, patting Hongjoong’s shoulder “Just giving you a friendly warning, Joong. YN’s not going to be thrilled when she hears about this little reunion. Better get your story straight before she does.”

Mindy saunters off, leaving behind an uneasy silence. Hongjoong looks conflicted, running a hand through his hair.

“She’s not here, Joong. You don’t have to let her control you every second of the day.” Yeosang says softly, feeling pity for his friend.

“It’s not that simple, you don’t get it.”

“Maybe we don’t. But you used to.”

They don't push further, but the words hang in the air. For a brief moment, Hongjoong feels a pang of guilt, a memory of simpler times when things weren’t so messy.

✮ ⋆

Meanwhile, back at the mansion, you are busy overseeing preparations for your father’s dinner when Mindy calls to report what she saw.

“Babygirl, you’re not going to like this, but guess who Hongjoong was spending his day with?”

You frown “What are you talking about?”

“Your little maid, Dann and the other freaks. They were all chummy in the library. It was kind of gross, honestly. Looked like they were best friends again.”

Your grip tightens around the phone. The thought of Hongjoong spending his time with his old friends you care little about, but with Dann… laughing with her, reminiscing. Sparks a flicker of jealousy and anger.

“Thanks for letting me know, babe.”

Cutting the call, you tell yourself it’s nothing. But the idea of Hongjoong slipping back to his old life, even for a moment, makes your blood boil.

The sound of the preparations for the business dinner echoes faintly through the mansion, but your focus is entirely on the phone.

Maybe you should remind Hongjoong which class he belongs to now.

Hongjoong’s phone buzzes just as he’s settling into class after his little encounter with his friends. His stomach drops when he sees your name pop up.

YN♡: I heard you were with Dann at school today. Care to explain why you thought that was a good idea?

Joong: We were just talking.

YN♡: Talking? Mindy says you were hanging out like old friends. Do you even realize how that makes me look?

Hongjoong hesitates, his mind racing. He knows your temper and doesn’t want to risk your wrath.

Joong: It’s not like that. I was just bored, and she’s… easy to be around when there’s nothing better to do.

The words feel wrong even as he types them, but he presses send anyway.

YN♡: Keep it in mind, Joongie. She’s not your friend anymore. You belong to me, remember that.

Joong: I know, YN. I won’t talk to her again. Promise.

✮ ⋆

It’s late in the evening. The business dinner is in full swing downstairs, but you have excused yourself to your room.

When you hear Dann come back from helping the staff, you call her up.

Dann knocks hesitantly on your door. She’s exhausted from helping clean up after the dinner preparations, but your icy summons gives her no choice.

“Close the door and sit.” With your head you point to the seat next to your large bed. Dann obeys, her hands clenching nervously in her lap “So, I heard you had a good time with Hongjoong today.”

Dann opens her mouth to start babbling “I… I didn’t mean anything by it. He just—”

“Oh, spare me. I already know everything.” You interrupt her.

You toss your phone onto the bed so Dann can see the screen. It’s open to Hongjoong’s messages.

Dann reads it, and her eyes moisten with sadness ‘easy to be around when there’s nothing better to do…’ Her heart sinks. The words sting more than she expected, and she feels a lump form in her throat.

“See? Even he knows where you stand. You’re nothing, Dann. A convenient distraction when he’s bored. That’s all you will ever be.” You lean back, watching the emotions flicker across Dann’s face; confusion, sadness, and humiliation.

“Why are you showing me this?” She whispers.

A mischievous smile lands on your lips “To remind you of your place. Don’t get too comfortable with Hongjoong. I don’t share what's mine.” Dann nods silently, unable to meet your gaze “Good. Now get out. I have to go back to an important dinner.”

You sit back down on your bed, satisfied but strangely restless while Dann stumbles out of the room, holding back tears.

As she retreats to the staff quarters her emotions swirl, the door clicks shut behind her, her legs give out, and she slides to the floor, the weight of your words pressing down on her chest.

She pulls her knees to her chest, resting her forehead against them as the messages replay in her mind.

‘Easy to be around when there’s nothing better to do.’

The words sting like a fresh wound, sharp and unrelenting. Hongjoong’s voice echoes in her head; not the Hongjoong she knew from before, the one who stayed up late helping her study for exams, who always made her laugh even when things were tough.

This Hongjoong felt like a stranger, someone who would say anything to stay in your good graces.

Her heart aches.

Why does she keep hoping he’ll be the person he used to be?

Dann clenches her fists, anger flickering alongside the sadness. Your smirk and your cruel words swirl in her thoughts, too. Dann knows your power, the way you can bend people like Hongjoong to your will.

But that doesn’t excuse him. He chose to say those things about her.

A single tear slips down her cheek, and she brushes it away furiously. She’s tired of feeling weak, tired of being the easy target.

"You’ll regret this, YN. One day, you’ll push too far, and everything you’ve built will crumble.” Dann exhales slowly, her tears finally dry “I can’t let her win. I won’t let her win."

✮ ⋆

Early the next morning, Dann wakes before dawn, the Clarke’s mansion still cloaked in silence.

She moves through her routine with mechanical precision, but her mind is elsewhere. Formulating, planning.

She thinks she owns me. That her words and her smirks can crush me into submission. And maybe, for a while, they did. But every cutting remark, every degrading task, only sharpens my focus.

'One day YN Clarke, you’ll realize I’m not as small as you think I am.'

She pulls on her simple clothes, smoothing the creases in the mirror. For a brief moment, her reflection stares back, eyes tired but filled with a quiet fire.

"I won't let her humiliate me anymore.”

Later that day at school in the cafeteria during lunch. You and your entourage sit at your usual table, the center of attention, laughing and chatting.

Dann approaches, carrying your latte on a tray. Her face is calm, but her heart races. She’s had enough of your endless demands and sharp tongue.

Dann’s fingers tighten around the tray. She can feel the weight of their stares, the way Mindy smirks at her like she’s a walking joke.

Her stomach churns, but she keeps her head high. She’s done everything you asked, swallowed every cruel word, and yet you still treat her like dirt.

‘One little accident wouldn’t hurt.’ She tells herself.

As she reaches the table, her hand shifts slightly, and the latte tilts; pouring straight into the table and your purse.

“What the hell?! Are you crazy?” You gasp with sharp voice

Dann feigns panic, though her lips twitch with suppressed satisfaction “I’m so sorry! It slipped!”

You stand abruptly, staring at your stained designer purse. Through gritted teeth “It slipped? You’ve got to be kidding me.” You scoff.

“Wow, Dann. Maybe YN’s been too nice to you.”

You narrow your eyes “You’re right, Mindy. I think Dann needs a reminder of her place.”

Dann’s satisfaction fades as Mindy steps behind her, pushing her forcefully down to her knees. The cafeteria goes silent, all eyes on the scene unfolding.

“What—what are you doing? I said I’m sorry!” Dann starts to panic, her confidence leaving immediately.

“Sorry isn’t enough.” You step closer, towering over Dann. Your voice drops, sharp and cruel “You think you’re clever, don’t you? Dropping my drink on purpose like a little brat. Let me make one thing clear. Your mother might work for my family, but that doesn’t mean you’re worth anything. You’re just a servant’s kid playing in a world you don’t belong to.”

Tears sting Dann’s eyes, but she bites her lip, refusing to cry. You smirk and Mindy crouches at Dann's height to whisper against her ear.

“Now, beg. Right here, in front of everyone. Beg for her forgiveness.”

“No... I won’t—” She shakes her head. You cut her off, stepping forward and pressing your Louboutin heel onto Dann’s hand “Stop! That hurts!” She yelps with tears rolling down her cheeks now.

You let out a slight laugh at her cries “That’s the point. Maybe next time, you’ll think twice before trying to humiliate me.”

The cafeteria is deathly quiet, the other students frozen, unsure whether to intervene.

Hongjoong stands a few feet away, frozen in shock. His stomach churns as you dig your heel into Dann’s hand, and your words like knives.

Hongjoong steps forward, raising his voice.

“YN, stop!”

You turn your head sharply, her eyes narrowing “Oh, What’s the matter, Joongie? Feeling guilty for siding with me?”

“This isn’t right. Let her go.”

You've never seen him so serious, for the first time his look made you feel intimidated. You blink several times before faking a smile.

“Fine. I’m in a good mood today.” You step back, your heel lifting off Dann’s hand.

She pulls her hand back, cradling it as she glances up at Hongjoong, his expression torn between anger and guilt. She wants to scream at him, to tell him it’s too late for him to play the good guy.

But instead, she swallows her pride, standing shakily and clutching her bruised hand. She doesn’t say another word. Instead, she stands up and walks out of the cafeteria, leaving the whispers and stares behind.

You watch her go, your lips curling into a satisfied smirk. Hongjoong’s angry glare doesn’t faze you; if anything, it’s amusing.

“You’re welcome to join her if you want. Maybe you two can cry about it together.”

He doesn’t respond, but the look he gives you says more than words ever could. He lets out a sigh and begins to walk in the direction Dann left.

You snort without being able to believe what you see “Fucking losers.”

Taking your phone, you open the chat you have with him.

YN♡: I hope you enjoy your return to the losers’ club, ungrateful pet.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

Taglist: @alliecoady98 @maidens-world @justconniez @luvvvash @silenttrxxs @latisthegenderfluidwannabealone @xh01bri @beabatiny @yothangie @posseup @0407files @cheolright @innocygnet @a-tiny-thing @sannieily @maplelilly05 @m0onchild-98

Join the Taglist: Here

☆○☆○☆

All rights reserved ♡bunny-hwa. Do not copy or translate my work.

[bcnes-archived]

continued from ( x ) with @finalfronticr

He doesn't want to know, he tells himself. He doesn't want to know. He'll end up rolling his eyes out of their sockets this time around - he should've known better than to put Jim to the task of acting. If the man hadn't been roped into joining Starfleet he would've wound up in a traveling Shakespeare troupe, of that he's damn well certain. Course, that wouldn't be half as exciting as Kirk would like.

But even as he's stalking off down the hallway shaking his head to himself he can still hear the doors swoosh open behind him, and Bones doesn't even turn to glance over his shoulder - nobody else in their right mind would bail this early, which means it's either Kirk (victorious) or Kirk (getting his pathetic ass dragged out to sickbay by somebody else, whiskey-less and defeated).

"Act like you've done this before," he fires over his shoulder, "which is funny considering how I distinctly remember you tellin' me all that whiskey you gifted me back at the Academy was legally purchased!"

At the very least Bones can rest easy knowing he couldn't have gotten away with the whole feigning sick act. Not when his roommate was a doctor. Otherwise his career would've been hindered by a hell of a lot more academic suspensions.

[bcnes]

continued from ( x ) with @aethramusings

"Yes, yes, that's exactly what I'm talking about. So until Captain James T. Kirk waltzes in here and tells me he gave you explicit permission to rearrange my sickbay, I'm not taking advice from a cat on the matter."

And that, as they say, is that, as far as Leonard's concerned. Or at least he tries to tell himself as much as he spins on a heel and goes back to the cabinet he's still in the middle of organizing.

But it just keeps nagging at him in the back of his mind. That thing the cat said when it first popped in here to pester him again. Even as he curses himself under his breath for his inability to resist the bait, shaking his head, he knows it'll drive him crazy if he doesn't make the damn thing explain itself.

"...What do you mean, my layout is inefficient? I've had it organized like this for almost four years! Not a single person on my staff has complained about it so far! Even Spock hasn't commented on it, and he's Spock."

You know. The guy who a) has a computer for a brain and b) considers bitching (at Leonard, specifically, in over half of the daily cases) to be a professional hobby.

[bcnes-archived]

"No, and I don't doubt it'll be the last, either." He sounds only a little grudging, but this is how it's been since forever, and to be entirely fair, McCoy had been the one to start it. Asking Jim to trust his life - or at the very least his leg - to McCoy's foolhardy notion that he, in all his bright-eyed, still-optimistic bravado at the time, could somehow do better than any other doctor and save the man's limb. Jim had done so, had sat through surgery after surgery and weeks, months of physical therapy so intense that McCoy figured the man would spend the rest of his life cursing his name. But he'd been so damn certain, in a way that wasn't warranted, that he was the best doctor for the job - that even if the Farragut shipped out without his patient, the galaxy would need James Kirk at its very best and how could he trust that to the hands of anyone else? He was unlikely to cross paths with the man again. Being hated from across the stars was a pretty small price to pay, anyhow.

And the experimental procedure had worked, and he'd taken Jim out to the family cabin to celebrate, and that had really been the beginning of the end as far as the normal course of his life was concerned because every waking moment after that was a series of increasingly bold requests, culminating in a fucking starship posting: partly to get the hell away from Joce, partly out of genuine scientific curiosity - the need to help and to heal, and mostly because Jim Kirk had asked him to.

In comparison to that, asking him to hit on a Vulcan is slightly easier.

"But I'm gonna quote you on this months or years or decades down the line when it all goes to hell in a handbasket, so don't say I didn't warn you." He wishes he could think they'll fare just fine, but he's never been able to project anything close to Jim's illusion of unerring confidence, much less feel it. And, anyway, it's easy for Jim to say that when Spock looks at him like he hung the damn stars in the sky. Loving Jim is the easiest thing in the world for both of them, and if Spock deserves anything, it's love that feels just like that - as easy and natural as breathing. It's hard enough for him already. But McCoy is hard to love. He knows it, but he hates feeling as though it's true, hates the reminder that loving him is more akin to suffering than anything joyful. Deep down he's more certain than anything that he won't actually be able to do this, that he'll be a disappointment for both of them, that it'll kill him to know he's making Spock struggle and he'll be why it all falls apart, if it ever pieces itself together at all in the first place. If he knew how to stop being anything but what he is, he would've stopped ages ago, years ago, when it'd all gone to shit the last time around. But he's never learned how to reconstruct himself so thoroughly like that.

Maybe he's got time, he thinks, drumming an anxious thumb against Jim's arm, for him to figure it out before it's too late - Lord knows Spock will drag his feet. And Jim seems so damn happy with all this that McCoy can't even bring himself to start giving serious thought to the visions of his own failure lurking right there in the backdrop. Happy even in his misery - all McCoy could ever ask for is to shield Jim from the mountain of missed opportunities and sacrifices and feelings of inadequacy that's built up behind him over the years, and maybe he can't do that, but if he can somehow twist himself into being enough to shield him moving forward... well, he owes Jim a whole lot more than that, but it's at least a start.

He knows he'll never be able to make himself the sort of person Spock could love, but Jim? Maybe. He can live with that, though it might kill him every day to only have been enough for the one of them, even if it winds up being temporary on his way to something or someone better equipped for this. He supposes at the end of it all he'll be grateful for whatever capacity they allow him to remain. At least he might still be a half-decent friend.

"I'd say that's part of the human experience, but I think it goes well beyond us humans," he reflects. A smile is leagues better than another undue apology, tenuous as it is, and when Jim glances at him McCoy pulls him away by the shoulders before cupping his face to wipe at his wet eyes. They're a lighter shade when they're like this, highlighted by his tears, though with no less depth than they typically have. "Christ, Jim, if I kept track of everyone I owe an apology..." he trails off, shaking his head. Every coworker or intern he's ever snapped at when he was in a sour mood or during a high-stress procedure. The family, friends of every patient that's died under his care - too many to count, after so many years. The numbers are an impossible weight, too large to be measured. And every person he's tried to love and loved poorly. He probably owes Jim the biggest apology of all, for that. Preemptively. Or every day for the rest of their lives, if he's lucky enough to not ruin it first. "You let that weigh you down and you'll drown with it. Sometimes all you can really do is take the things you wish you could say and..." a shrug. He looks out towards the view of the stars. "...Let them go. Everyone has to move forward eventually, to one place or another. It's a godawful way to live, punishing yourself for the rest of forever. I think you're the last person who deserves that."

The rise and fall of Bones' chest is what he focuses on , how that steady breathing is a constant — much like the man's presence in his life. Maybe “ love at first sight ” isn't the right way to put it , but it was something similar. The moment Jim laid eyes on him , something deep inside of him knew that they were fated to be together , in some way. It was a gut feeling , really. A voice in the back of his head saying that this man needs you as much as you need him. Which , is a lot to ask of a stranger. Looking back , he's glad he took that chance , reached out when he did — asked Starfleet to make them roommates when he had the chance. That feeling persisted through when Bones and Spock had met for the first time. When all three of them were in the same room , the same vicinity , it was like something had shifted deep inside of him. He wasn't sure what it was at the time , but now he's positive. The Universe , no matter how much it has wronged him , granted him one good thing. The two men he wants to spend the rest of his life with.

It's that gut feeling that sets his love for them apart from everyone else. He did love every single person he's had a connection with , but he knew it was never to last. That he would have to leave , and that forming a connection would do him more harm than good. But he did anyways. He loved , even though he knew it would destroy him. Because he had no other choice — not when his command granted him so little time to be anything other than Captain Kirk. No matter how close he got with someone , however , no matter how many times someone's lips graced his own — he never felt like he did when he was with Bones or Spock. At first , when he finally realized this , he shoved it down. He'd known them for years , this was how friends feel with each other , that's all. But then his breath would catch in his throat whenever McCoy would smile , and when Spock would gently put his hand on Jim's back , his heart would skip a beat. It was then when he delved deeper into his duties than before. He didn't deserve that , didn't deserve them. He had already given himself to the Enterprise. She had all of him , she's who he had to live for. Her and her crew needed him at his best. And he was willing to sacrifice the truest , purest love he felt in order to keep them all happy. Keep them all alive. He almost didn't even tell Bones — the thought that merely minutes ago he was thinking of turning around and walking out of this room , never to look him in the eye again. To him , though , that would have been the same as death. No , it would've been worse.

Death is a universal constant , one that weighs upon each and every officer that has ever served in the ranks of Starfleet. Every single person on the Enterprise knows this , and serves every day like it could be their last. Maybe it is because of him that they continue to serve -- that they entrust their lives to this ship under his command. They know , and he knows , that he would die for them just as quickly as they would die for him. No matter how fleeting an interaction is , even if he's known someone for only a moment , his unyielding compassion and care for life makes him willing to die for them. To put everything he's built on the line , just because he deeply feels a bond with someone he may never meet again. And even when he has sacrificed himself time and time again , he's convinced himself that nothing will ever be enough. Nothing he can do now will undo the lives he couldn't save. Even though there was nothing he could have done to save them — Tarsus , the USS Farragut . . every time he puts his life on the line for someone , he remembers those he was too late to save. It pains him the most in moments like these , where he truly gets to be happy. Because he knows just how many people he watched die young. He knows how many people that should be alive right now , feeling the way he does. Happy. And he blames himself for things he could not and still cannot control.

A soft chuckle leaves his lips , tense shoulders rising and falling as he shakes his head. He never said it would be easy , he wants to say. With Spock , he knew it wasn't going to be easy. But now that he's halfway there , he can't just stop at one , can he ? ❛ This isn't the first time I've asked you to do something . . less than wise , Bones. You know that. ❜ That was certainly a way to put it , but he didn't know how else to put it. ❛ I think we'll fare just fine. ❜ Wishful thinking on his part , he knows. But if he dwells on it too long he's afraid he'll back out.

No matter how much he tries to convince himself of it , that he deserves this — both of them — and that allowing himself this one thing isn't the end of the world , there's always doubt. When you're a Starfleet officer , doubt is the last thing you want to indulge in. Doubt leads to anxiety , which leads to hesitation , which leads to 200 men being slaughtered right before your eyes. Though this isn't nearly as serious , and the arms around him and hand in his hair ground him — there will always be that inkling of doubt , that thought that he will never be anything but a commanding officer. That he can't have anything without having to put the ship first. The tears that stream down his face are ones he's held in for far too long — he cries in private , of course , but there was a deep catharsis that came from finally being able to express a feeling like this in front of someone. To put his pride and commanding presence aside to find solace and comfort in the arms of another person. He sniffles softly , breathing growing quiet as it finally steadies. Every apology that leaves his lips has some deeper meaning to it. It may seem like nothing to everyone else , but every “ I'm sorry “ , no matter who it's for , is also aimed towards the ones he never got to apologize to. He silently apologizes to the families that were broken in front of his eyes , to the sons that never got to return home , to the young ensigns that never got to live the lives that they deserved.

The cuff to his head brings him back to reality , the ghost of a smile curling onto his lips. He glances into Bones' eyes , his own still red and swollen with tears. His first instinct is to utter “I'm sorry” , but that would be counterintuitive. Instead , a shaking hand raises to wipe away some of the tears on his face , trying desperately to save face. Not that he needs his reputation when the doctor is involved — they've known each other for far too long for that to have any merit anymore. He just feels bad , he supposes , for leaning on him in such a way. The apology remains unspoken , but it hangs in the air nonetheless. ❛ Maybe not to you , ❜ He finally says , softly. ❛ But you know just as well as I do that there are people that deserve to hear that from me. ❜

[bcnes-archived]

@starfleetsxvulcan - continued from ( x )

If he didn't know Jim any better, it would've been a hell of a lot easier to assume he'd been lying about the whole thing back when he'd first told Leonard about it - not that it seemed fair to doubt anything at this point, after some of the shit they've seen, but still. Two Spocks. It's a bit of a nightmare to imagine. But nightmare or no, it's hard to deny the familiarity in the way this particular Vulcan carries himself, even if his posture is less rigid than Leonard has ever seen on Spock-the-younger, or the cadence to his words, softened by emotion they may often be. Even with the aged lines etched into his face, it's almost surprising how easy it is to pick him out of a crowd of other Vulcans. God, but it's weird as shit to see him smiling. He hopes he doesn't look as uncomfortable as he feels.

"Gave me hell, that's what you did. You know how hard it was to track you down?" He deliberately opts to ignore his slip-up - can only imagine the old man was about to call him bastard, or whatever the Vulcan equivalent might be, given the way McCoy tends to get on with the other Spock. They've been on New Vulcan for over a week now, with the Enterprise's crew lending their expertise to the colony, not for the first time nor the last; and while it's not necessarily true that Leonard was seeking him out, it would've been hard to miss the fact that nobody'd seen hide nor hair of Spock - this Spock, the older one - practically since they landed. And he knows full well both Jim and Spock were looking for him.

It would be unfair to assume he's been hiding - for as relatively small as New Vulcan is, it's still easy enough to get lost in - but... the thought does cross his mind. Doubly unfair given that Leonard doesn't really know the man, or at least this version of him, at all. Certainly not enough to make that judgment call.

"Jim's been dropping into the medical center every other day just to see if you've swung by so he can grill you on some nonsense or another. I'm getting sick of it. He didn't make that bad of a first impression, did he? Would it kill you to say hello?"

[bcnes]

tag dump 001.

[bcnes-archived]

@gcldenratio, continued from ( x )

"You're really gonna lay that beautiful bait out there and not let me take it?" His sigh is genuinely morose. Like somehow this is the biggest disappointment of his life. "I had a list ready. Alphabetical!"

[bcnes]

Leonard simply nods, gaze averted, eager to brush past the complete and utter weirdness of hearing such a thing from Spock. Of even being in a situation in which he has to chat with - well, it feels somehow rude to think of him as the wrong Spock. A different Spock, then. Of all the people to have a clone running around—

But somehow that's very low on the list of things demanding Leonard's immediate attention right now, not when he's moving on to non-critical surgeries in a matter of hours. The man's confidence in him make him uneasy, anyway, and the melancholy in his eyes speaks to something that he's not likely to want to dwell on, much less delve into, though every part of him is itching with curiosity. McCoy's not in the business of prying into shit he knows full well he'd not want to talk about either.

"You'd change your tune if you were on the surgery list, I'm sure," he jokes lightly with a shake of his head, and then glances over his shoulder. "Well, hey, listen... I'm about to get kicked out of here, anyway, if I know Jim. He's probably personally hired somebody just to make sure I get a couple of hours away. Can I... I don't know," he gestures vaguely. He's not sure what the old man is even doing here other than just taking it all in, all this misery - he seems too old, even considering Vulcan lifespans, to be participating in construction work or anything of the sort. Hell, maybe he's just doing his level best to avoid running into himself. He shifts his weight awkwardly.

"You want some company for a while? I could go for a drink. Non-alcoholic," he raises his hands to clarify. "Just tea."

He stays silent during all of it, simply allowing the situation to cycle through his mind. He looks calm while the other searches through his face, even if there is some distinct sadness in his eyes. Almost disheartened that he had to look at all. Not that he could truly expect any different, but it doesn't change how he feels. Which he does, strongly, and he only finds himself wishing he had more often with the others parallel self. His eyes follow the other as he circles him, although he doesn't move to follow his motions.

"I assure you, I trust you are perfectly capable of performing your duties. Even if you are not currently, you would still be capable of gaining such skills on your own merit. I am not sure of the exact version of events Jim has told you, but he was not.. dicking around. I am different from the Spock of this universe in age and.. most everything else. Our lived experiences vary by a rather vast margin."

[bcnes-archived]

tag dump

[growthhyp]

The Garage Sale V

Days had rolled by, and Aiden and Abe had become the heartthrobs of the college football team. "Dude" and "Bro" had woven themselves into Aiden's vocabulary like threads on a jock's sweat-soaked jersey. Meanwhile, Abe remained the more submissive of the two, his voice still gentle, almost shy in contrast to Aiden's boisterousness. Their shared dorm room looked like a tornado had swept through a sports gear store, with the scent of musky men and the faint hint of victory hanging in the air.

Their days were a whirlwind of practices, games, and stolen moments of passion. Aiden's newfound confidence on the field reflected in his interactions with Abe. They were like two magnets, drawn to each other's magnetic pull. The whispers of the college crowd grew louder, but the couple remained unfazed. The chemistry between them was palpable, a volatile mix of sweat, adrenaline, and desire that seemed to fuel their winning streak.

One evening, as they lay tangled in their mess of a bed, Aiden turned to Abe, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Bro," he said, his voice low and dominant, "we're hitting up that garage sale again tomorrow. Gonna grab some gear for my old coding buddies, Carlos and Tamil."

Abe, his eyes glazing over with the thought of another day spent in the throes of their newfound jock lifestyle, nodded submissively. "Whatever you say, Aiden." He knew that Aiden had a plan, and while he might not fully grasp the intricacies of it, he trusted that it would somehow make their bond even stronger. The scent of sweat and musk filled the room, a testament to their passionate escapades that seemed to only grow more frequent with each passing day.

Aiden lay there, flexing his biceps absently, watching the play of shadows on the ceiling. He thought of Carlos and Tamil, two nerdy figures from his past that seemed so distant now. They were like the forgotten toys of his childhood, relics of a time when he hadn't yet discovered the raw power of his body. But he didn't feel guilty about it. In the dog-eat-dog world of college football, friends like Carlos and Tamil were just… well, they were bros. They didn't need his help to survive; they had their own nerdy ways of getting by. But Aiden knew that deep down, they envied his new life, the one filled with the cheers of adoring fans and the warm embrace of victory.

He felt a strange mix of pity and superiority when he thought of them. They were the kind of guys that would still be playing Dungeons and Dragons in their mom's basement while he was out here, scoring touchdowns and breaking hearts. But even though they were so different, Aiden knew he owed them something.

He rolled over to face Abe, whose chest was rising and falling with the rhythm of deep, contented sleep. Aiden's thoughts drifted to the garage sale, and the plan that had been brewing in the back of his mind. "Gonna show those bros what real power is," he murmured to himself, a smug smile playing on his lips. He knew that bringing them into the fold would be a challenge, but it was one he was more than ready to tackle.

The sudden rise of horniness took Aiden by surprise, his cock swelling against the fabric of his boxer briefs. He leaned in and pressed his lips to Abe's, feeling the warmth and softness of his mouth. Abe stirred, a sleepy moan escaping his throat as he wrapped his arms around Aiden's neck, pulling him closer. They kissed passionately, Aiden's hands exploring the contours of Abe's body, tracing the lines of his abs and the swell of his ass.

Aiden's desires grew more urgent, and he sat up, tugging his shirt over his head. "You know what, babe?" he said, his voice thick with need. "Let's show each other just how much we've changed." Abe nodded, his eyes sparkling with excitement. He slid down the bed, his mouth finding Aiden's cock. He took it in eagerly, his cheeks hollowing as he began to suck, his tongue swirling around the head. Aiden's grip tightened on the bedsheets, his hips bucking as pleasure shot through him like electricity. "Fuck, babe," he grunted, his voice gruff. "You're the best."

The air grew thick with the scent of lust as Aiden's breathing quickened. Abe's mouth was a warm, wet heaven, and Aiden couldn't help but thrust deeper. "Take it all, baby," he encouraged, his voice a low growl. "Show me how much you love it." Abe's eyes watered, but he didn't stop, his throat working to accommodate Aiden's growing need. The sight of Abe's submission sent waves of desire crashing through Aiden's body. He knew that once he was done with Abe's mouth, he'd claim his ass.

Finally, with a roar of pleasure, Aiden came, filling Abe's mouth with his seed. Abe swallowed it all, his eyes never leaving Aiden's. Then, with a smirk, Aiden flipped him onto his stomach, his hands reaching for the lube they kept stashed under the bed. "My turn to show you who's boss," he murmured, his voice a seductive purr. He slicked his cock, feeling the heat of Abe's ass pressing against him. He took a moment to appreciate the view: Abe's round cheeks, parted to reveal his tight, pink hole.

With one hand firmly on Abe's hip, Aiden guided his cock into him, feeling the initial resistance give way to the warm, welcoming embrace of his body. Abe let out a sharp gasp, his body tensing before he relaxed, allowing Aiden to fill him completely. "That's it," Aiden cooed, his voice thick with pleasure. "Take it all."

They moved together in a rhythm as old as time, Aiden's powerful thrusts setting the pace as Abe's moans grew louder. Aiden felt his climax building, the tension in his balls tightening. "You're gonna make me cum, baby," he grunted. "You're gonna make me fill you up."

And fill him up he did, his hot seed spilling into Abe as they both reached their peak. They lay there, panting, their bodies sticky with sweat and cum. It was a beautiful mess, a testament to their love and lust.

As their breathing evened out, Aiden leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to Abe's shoulder. "You ready to show Carlos and Tamil what it's like to be on top?" he asked, his voice still heavy with arousal.

Abe nodded, a small smile playing on his lips. "Whatever you say, Aiden."

===

Morning had broken with the promise of a scorching day ahead. The sun had barely kissed the horizon as Aiden and Abe, both dressed in tight-fitting athletic gear that highlighted their newfound physiques, made their way to Jack's garage sale. The sight of Jack, still as muscular and mysterious as the first time they met, brought back a flood of memories. His heart raced at the thought of the transformation that awaited his friends.

Jack greeted them with a knowing smile, the same one that had sent a shiver down Aiden's spine months ago. "Back for more, boys?" he asked, his voice a warm rumble that seemed to resonate in Aiden's chest. Aiden stepped forward, his voice filled with the same confidence that now flowed through his veins. "Dude, I've got two more friends who could use a little… upgrade," he said, using air quotes to emphasize his point.

Jack's grin widened, revealing a set of perfectly white teeth that gleamed against his tanned skin. "Ah, spreading the love, I see," he said, his eyes sparkling with amusement. He turned to a rack in the corner of his garage, where a rainbow of socks hung like a bizarre bounty. "Take a look," he said, tossing a few pairs in their direction. "I've got something that'll fit your friends to a T."

The socks looked like any other pair one might find in a gym bag, but Aiden knew better. He picked one up, feeling the warmth emanate from it, as if it were alive. "These will do," he said, a smirk playing on his lips. He tossed the socks to Abe, who caught them with a look of wonder.

Jack nodded, his muscular arms folding over his chest. "Remember, each pair is unique. The transformation will be as random as the day you stepped into my life."

"Cool, man, no worries," Aiden said, his voice now as smooth and self-assured as a seasoned quarterback. "Bros are gonna love 'em."

Jack nodded, his gaze lingering on Aiden's body before he turned to Abe. "You sure you don't want a pair too, bud?" he asked, his eyes twinkling.

"Nah, I'm good, man. These are for my old pals, Carlos and Tamil. They're the brainiacs who could use a little… extra oomph," Aiden said, slapping Abe on the back with a laugh.

Jack nodded, his expression serious. "You're sure?" he asked, his deep voice resonating through the garage. "These socks… they can be life-changing. In more ways than one."

Aiden looked at him with a cocky grin, his confidence brimming. "Yeah, bro, I'm positive. They're gonna thank me for this. And maybe, just maybe, they'll finally get a taste of the kind of life we're living now." Abe nodded in agreement, his eyes wide with excitement and a touch of envy.

Jack leaned against the counter, his massive arms folded over his chest. "I've got a proposition for you, Aiden," he said, his gaze intense. "You've got the charm and the new look to sell these clothes like hotcakes. Why don't you help me spread the word? Maybe turn this into something… big?"

"You mean, like, promote your garage sale?" he asked, his voice filled with excitement. "Dude, I'm in. Let's make this viral."

Jack's smile grew, his eyes lighting up. "Exactly. I've got the goods, you've got the charm. We could turn this into a full-on operation. Think of it as a… life makeover service," he said, winking.

Aiden's mind raced with possibilities. "Yeah, like a secret society for the uncool," he chuckled, his newfound confidence making him bold. "But instead of nerds, we turn 'em into… bros!"

Jack leaned in, his eyes gleaming. "Exactly," he said, his voice a low purr. "And who better to spread the word than the king of the jocks?"

Aiden's heart skipped a beat. He had never considered himself a leader, let alone a life-changing one. But Jack had a point. His transformation had been nothing short of miraculous, and if he could help others find their confidence, why not? "Alright, bro, count me in," he said, his voice firm. "We're gonna turn this place into a nerd-to-stud factory!"

Jack chuckled, his massive chest rumbling with the sound. "Good," he said, his eyes gleaming with a hint of something Aiden couldn't quite pinpoint. "I'll leave the details to you. Just remember, the clothes are the key. And don't be shy about it. Sometimes, a little… persuasion goes a long way."

With a nod, Aiden handed over the cash for the two pairs of socks. They felt heavier in his hand than their size suggested, as if they contained the weight of destiny. Abe watched the transaction, nodding submissively, his eyes never leaving Aiden's face. Aiden couldn't help but feel a pang of something, a mix of affection and power that was both thrilling and slightly disconcerting. He was the one in charge now, the one making the decisions.

"Thanks, Jack," Aiden said, pocketing the receipt. "These are gonna be the best gifts ever."

Jack's smile grew wider, his teeth gleaming in the fluorescent garage light. "I know they will," he said, his voice a seductive whisper.

The next day, Aiden and Abe found themselves at the local post office, the two pairs of socks neatly packaged and addressed to their unsuspecting friends. Aiden felt a strange sense of excitement and power as he slapped the shipping labels onto the boxes. He couldn't wait to see the reactions of Carlos and Tamil, to watch as they too were transformed by the magical fabric that had changed his own life so dramatically.

Weeks had past since their last encounter with Jack, and Aiden had thrown himself into his role as the team's star player with reckless abandon. He had become the life of every party, the center of attention, and the envy of every man and woman on campus. His newfound physique and confidence had even earned him the title of 'Mr. Popular', a title that was once as unreachable to him as the stars in the sky.

===

Meanwhile, Carlos, still buried in his fat body, sat in front of his computer screen, his eyes scanning through endless lines of code. The office chair groaned under his weight as he sighed heavily. At 30 years old, he was the epitome of a successful computer nerd, but the shadow of his diabetes loomed over him like a dark cloud. He glanced down at his bulging belly, wishing that he could find the motivation to join a gym and shed his excess weight.

Carlos had always been drawn to Aiden's youthful spirit, even when they had first met online. Back then, Aiden had been just another college kid with a burning passion for coding, asking questions on a random forum. It had been Carlos's quick and knowledgeable responses that had sparked their friendship. And when he had found out Aiden was also gay, it had felt like a sign. He remembered his own college days, the struggle of hiding his true self, and he had vowed to be the mentor he never had.

Don, his loving husband of five years, was a different story. At 32, Don was a construction worker with a heart of gold and a body that defied the odds. Due to his rigorous job, standing tall in the center of a bustling construction site. His tanned, muscular body is a testament to the rigorous physical labor that has sculpted him over the years. Carlos was a fantastic cook, always whipping up delicious, comforting meals after a hard day's work. The scent of Carlos' favorite carne asada wafted through the apartment, making it almost impossible for him to resist the temptation of seconds and thirds which fueled his muscles after a hard day work.

Their dynamic was clear as day; Don was the dominant one, the top in their relationship. He was strong, both in body and spirit, and Carlos loved him for it. Don's gruffness was a stark contrast to Carlos's gentle nature, but it was that very contrast that made them work so well together. They had met during the construction of the new programming offices, where Carlos had been the brains behind the digital layout, and Don had been the brawn that brought it to life. It was love at first sight, or at least it was for Carlos. Don had taken a little longer to warm up to the idea of a programmer being his other half, but the way Carlos could make a computer sing had eventually won him over.

Their marriage had been a whirlwind, full of love and laughter. They had faced their share of challenges, of course. There were the stares and whispers from those who didn't understand their love, the family members who had taken years to accept them, and the never-ending battle against the stereotypes that painted them as an odd couple. But they had persevered, their love growing stronger with each hurdle they overcame. They had made a home filled with warmth and acceptance, a place where they could truly be themselves without fear of judgment.

One afternoon, as the sun painted the sky with a palette of oranges and pinks, Carlos pulled into their driveway, feeling the familiar ache in his body from another long day of coding. He stepped out of the car and noticed a package sitting on the welcome mat. Curiosity piqued, he picked it up and turned it over in his hands. The return address was unfamiliar, but the excitement that bubbled in his chest was undeniable. He couldn't remember ordering anything, but that was hardly unusual given his penchant for online shopping.

With the box tucked under his arm, he shuffled into the house, his heart fluttering like a schoolboy's on prom night. The scent of home hit him like a warm embrace - the faint aroma of old textbooks, the lingering scent of Don's cologne, and the ever-present smell of electronics. He tossed the box onto the couch and began his usual routine of changing out of his work clothes, trading his stiff business attire for a comfortable pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt. His phone buzzed with a notification from Don, the screen lighting up with a message that said he'd be working late.

Carlos sighed, feeling the weight of loneliness settle in his chest. He glanced at the box, his curiosity growing. He tore open the packaging, revealing a pair of vibrant blue athletic socks. They were snug, designed for athletes, not for someone who hadn't seen the inside of a gym in years. He held them up, the soft fabric whispering against his fingertips. A note fluttered to the floor, and he read it with a furrowed brow: "Thank you for everything - Aiden."

Aiden? Why would Aiden send him socks? The last he heard, Aiden had disappeared from their coding group chat without a trace. The thought sent a cold shiver down his spine. Had something happened to his friend?

But then he got a private chat from Aiden. The message was simple enough, but the content was… unexpected.

Aiden: Hey Carlos, hope you got my little gift.

Carlos stared at his phone, the screen glowing in the dim light of his office. The message was like a beacon of hope in the sea of code that had become his life. His heart skipped a beat. Aiden was alive, and apparently, into giving away random pairs of socks.

Carlos: Aiden! Oh my god, yes, I got the socks. They're… uh… very… blue. But why socks, man? We were worried about you.

He felt a bit like a teenage girl receiving a mysterious note from her crush, his thumbs hovering over the screen, waiting for the response.

Aiden: Haha, chill bro. Just thought you'd dig 'em. Football's been my jam lately. Crazy, right?

The revelation was indeed crazy. Aiden, the guy who used to live and breathe code, had turned into a jock? It was like finding out your favorite sci-fi writer had switched to romance novels.

Carlos: Seriously? Football? Since when did you start playing sports? Last I checked, you couldn't even do a push-up.

He couldn't hide the shock, but there was also a hint of concern. Aiden had always been the kind of person who liked his comfort zone, and this was a leap into the stratosphere.

Aiden: Oh, you know, bro. Life's full of surprises. Anyway, gotta bounce. The party's starting. Will hit you up later, okay? Tell Tamil I'm cool. And, by the way, make sure to rock those socks today. Let me know how they work out for ya.

Carlos nodded, even though Aiden couldn't see him. The conversation was strange, but at least Aiden was okay. And apparently, he was now into sports. Weird.

He turned his thoughts to Tamil, their third musketeer. Tamil, a man of intellect and wit, was the heart of their coding trio. His brain was a supercomputer, his fingers a blur over the keyboard. At 35, he had the body of a man who had never stepped foot inside a gym, his 300lbs frame a testament to his love for fast food and lack of physical activity. Despite his unassuming exterior, Tamil was a genius, his mind a maze of algorithms and coding languages that even the most seasoned hackers would find intimidating.

Their bond had grown strong over the years, especially since Tamil had met and married the love of his life, Kamala. A beautiful woman with a heart as vast as the universe, she had been the one constant in Tamil's life, the one who had accepted him for who he was despite his inability to give her the one thing she wanted most: a child. They had found joy in their travels, exploring the globe with the money their successful careers afforded them.

Carlos typed out a quick message to Tamil, his fingers flying over the keyboard with the agility that had once made him a coding legend. "Tamil, you're not gonna believe this. Aiden hit me up and sent me some weird socks. Says he's into football now." He hit send, and the message shot off into the digital ether, leaving him with a sense of unease.

With the house clean and the aroma of simmering chili filling the air, Carlos decided to take a break. The shower washed away the sweat and stress of the day, the hot water pummeling his body like a masseuse's skilled hands. He stepped out, feeling rejuvenated, and pulled on the t-shirt that clung to his curves like a loving embrace. The pajama pants were next, swaddling him in comfort as he made his way to the bedroom.

The bed looked like a cloud, inviting him to sink into its plush embrace. He grabbed the remote and turned on Netflix, scrolling through the endless sea of content. But as he settled in, his eyes fell upon the box of socks again. With a shrug, he decided to give them a try. They were indeed too large for his feet, but as he slid them on, they felt surprisingly comfortable, almost like a warm hand holding his ankles.

He laid back and let the cool air of the AC wash over him, but the comfort was short-lived. A strange sensation began to creep up from his toes, a warmth that was unmistakable. He glanced down, his eyes widening in shock as the blue fabric of the socks began to stretch and conform to his swelling feet. The heat grew, spreading up his legs like wildfire, and suddenly, he could feel his calves bulging, the fat melting away to reveal muscles that hadn't seen the light of day.

The transformation was relentless, marching upwards like a tide that wouldn't be held back. His thighs grew thick with power, the fabric of his pajamas straining against the unyielding pressure. He watched in amazement as his legs began to resemble the Greek statues he had admired during a trip to the museum with Don. The muscles grew more defined, each one a work of art that rippled and flexed with every movement.

The heat grew more intense as it reached his stomach. He could feel his fat cells screaming in protest as they were consumed by the fiery transformation. Sweat beaded on his forehead, his heart racing like it was about to burst from his chest. His shirt felt like it was made of lead, so he peeled it off, gasping at the sight of his new abs, the beginnings of an eight-pack poking through the sheen of perspiration. It was as if he was watching someone else's body, not his own.

The transformation continued upwards, his shoulders broadening and his back muscles expanding like wings unfurling. He reached behind to feel the new contours, his fingers tracing the powerful landscape of his new physique. It was a surreal, almost out-of-body experience. His skin tingled as his body rewrote its own destiny, sculpted by the very fabric of the socks that clung to him like a second skin.

His t-shirt was now a prison, stretched to the limits of its fabric. The seams groaned in protest as his chest grew, his pecs swelling like boulders and his abs tightening into a washboard. The warmth spread to his arms, and he watched as his biceps bulged, veins popping out like rivers on a map. The transformation was a symphony of sensations, a mix of pain and pleasure that had him gasping for air. His forearms thickened, his fingers lengthening slightly, each digit now wrapped in a layer of power that he hadn't known existed.

The room was a haze of heat, his breaths coming in ragged pants. The socks were like a living entity, molding him into a new form.

As the warmth climbed his neck, his face felt as if it was being reshaped by an invisible sculptor. His cheekbones grew more defined, his nose more aquiline, and his jaw squared off into a sharp, dominant line. His eyes grew wider, a blue so bright it seemed almost unnatural, and his teeth… oh, his teeth, they were straight and white, gleaming like polished marble.

Carlos felt his personality shift, a newfound confidence coursing through his mind like a river after a storm. The shy, insecure nerd he had been moments ago was now a distant memory. He strutted over to the mirror, flexing his new biceps, watching the way they bulged and danced with power. The cockiness grew with each flex, a sense of dominance filling him like a warm cup of coffee on a cold morning.

The thoughts in his head were no longer of coding algorithms and video games; they were of muscular men, their eyes wide with a mix of lust and submission. He pictured them on their knees, begging for his touch, his guidance. The images grew clearer, more vivid, and the heat between his legs grew with each passing second. The socks had not only transformed his body but had also rewritten the very essence of who he was, turning him into the top he never knew he could be.

The warmth grew more intense, focusing on his cock, which began to swell like a balloon filling with helium. He felt the fabric of his pajamas strain against the obscene girth, the seams popping like a string of fireworks. The bulge grew so large that his pajamas couldn't contain it anymore, tearing away to reveal his blue briefs. The head of his cock pushed against the elastic band, the fabric straining to hold back the tide of his newfound power.

Carlos was in a daze, his hand moving almost of its own accord to cup the heavy, thick shaft. The sensation was overwhelming, his new body demanding attention, and his mind a whirlwind of confusion and desire. He slid his hand inside the waistband, his palm fitting around the base of his cock like it was made just for that purpose. He began to stroke, the sensation of his own hand against the velvety skin sending waves of pleasure through his body. The transformation had not just given him the body of a muscular man; it had also unlocked a deep, primal urge that had been buried deep within.

As he stroked himself, his thoughts drifted to Don. The way his eyes used to light up when Carlos would cook his favorite meal, the gentle way he'd caress his stomach before they'd make love. But now, those thoughts took a darker turn. He saw himself not as the submissive partner he had always been but as the dominant force, the one in control. His hand moved faster, his strokes becoming more vigorous as he pictured Don beneath him, eyes wide with shock and lust as he took charge in the bedroom. The room grew hotter, the air thick with the scent of his arousal.

His cock grew so hard it was almost painful, the veins pulsing with the intensity of his desire. He could feel the testosterone flooding his system, turning him into a creature of pure, unbridled lust. The need to claim, to conquer, washed over him like a wave, and he knew he had to act on it. He couldn't wait for Don to come home; he needed to feel that power now. The socks had not only changed his body but had also unlocked a primal instinct that had been buried under layers of shyness and inadequacy.

With a final, powerful stroke, Carlos let out a roar that echoed through the house. The cum shot from his cock like a geyser, painting the walls with ropes of white hot pleasure. It splattered against the ceiling, leaving a Jackson Pollock-esque masterpiece of desire. The force of his orgasm was so intense that the cum continued to flow, creating a river that pooled on his chest and abs, then trickled down his sides to form a puddle on the bedroom floor.

As the last drops fell from him, exhaustion set in. His body, so used to sloth and inactivity, was now a battlefield of sensation, and it demanded rest. His eyelids grew heavy, the weight of his transformation pressing down on him like a warm, comforting blanket. He stumbled back to the bed, his legs feeling like jelly beneath him, and collapsed onto the cool, inviting mattress. The smell of sex and sweat mingled with the fading aroma of chili, a potent reminder of the power that now surged through his veins.

[roxxie-wolf]

𝒩𝑒𝓌 𝒪𝓇𝓁𝑒𝒶𝓃𝓈 𝐿𝑜𝓋𝑒

Pairing: Human!Alastor x Fem!Reader

Summary: Your parents want you to marry someone of their choice, but you already have eyes on someone else. Will you follow what your parents think is best for you or will you go with what your heart desires.

Word count: 726

Warnings: human!alastor x fem!reader, slow burn, this story may contain mature sexual content. Your in your late 20’s, Alastor is in his early 30’s, you still live with your parents idk. If I forgot anything else please let me know.

Note: It’s my first story, please let me know how you feel about this. I want to improve. Thank you! ☺️

𝒞𝒽𝒶𝓅𝓉𝑒𝓇 𝟣

Living in New Orleans was something new for you. It was a stark contrast to the life you had known growing up on a farm in the countryside. You was always the child who spent her days outside with your father, tending to the animals and the crops. The thought of leaving that behind and moving to a bustling city like New Orleans was something you could never have imagined wanting to do.

However, when your parents made the decision to sell the property and start anew, there was nothing you could do but to follow. You found yourself in a strange new world, far removed from the simplicity and familiarity of rural life.

The first few weeks in the new home were challenging to say the least. The noise and crowds of the city overwhelmed you, and you found yourself longing for the quiet of the countryside. But slowly, as you explored the streets of New Orleans and got to know its people, you began to see the beauty and intrigue that the city had to offer.

The air hung heavy with humidity, wrapping around you like a warm, damp shroud. The streets of New Orleans pulsed with life—a vibrant tapestry woven from the threads of jazz, and secrets whispered in the sultry night.

You missed the farm—the sun-kissed fields, the scent of freshly turned soil, and the comforting rhythm of chores. But here, in the heart of the Crescent City, you discovered a different kind of rhythm—one that thrummed through your veins like the syncopated beat of a jazz trumpet.

——————————————-

The morning sun streamed through the curtains, casting a warm glow across the room. You couldn't help but feel a sense of peace wash over you. The soft rays danced on the walls, illuminating the dusty corners and highlighting the knick-knacks that adorned your shelves, music playing in the background.

Your mother left early to buy groceries and your father went to work. You stood in the kitchen making breakfast for yourself. It was a picture-perfect start to the day until…

The radio broadcast cut through the tranquility with chilling news. The broadcaster's voice was urgent, tinged with a sense of dread that sent chills down your spine. “Another person has gone missing in the city," the voice said, each word heavy with the gravity of the situation.

The broadcaster continued, detailing the string of disappearances that had begun to weave a tapestry of fear across New Orleans. Another missing person…but what was even more disturbing was the realization that this was not an isolated incident.

Your heart began to race as you listened. As the broadcast continued, you felt a sense of unease settle over you. The cozy room, once filled with warmth and sunlight, now felt stifling and claustrophobic. The shadows danced ominously on the walls, the familiar knick-knacks taking on a sinister air. You couldn't shake the feeling of dread that enveloped you, the knowledge that danger lurked just beyond the cozy confines of your home.

The morning sun, once a beacon of hope and promise, now seemed tainted by the darkness that hung over the town. The warm glow that had greeted you upon waking now felt cold and distant.

You couldn't help but shiver as you clutched the edge of the kitchen counter. The weight of the situation pressing down on you like a leaden blanket.

But amidst the fear and uncertainty, a steely resolve began to take hold within you. You knew you couldn't let fear dictate your actions, couldn't let the darkness of the outside world consume you. You had to be vigilant, had to stay alert and aware of your surroundings.

With a deep breath, you turned away from the kitchen counter and made your way to the window. The morning sun, still streaming through the curtains casting its warm glow across the room. The radio may have brought chilling news of a missing person but you refused to let fear overpower you.

Your thoughts race in your head. What happened to that person? Does New Orleans have a killer on the loose? Who knows. As the sun rose higher in the sky, illuminating the world outside, you found solace in the knowledge that no matter how dark the night may seem, the morning light would always come.

🌸𝒩𝑒𝓍𝓉🌸

Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list so you be updated every time.^^ I do try to proofread but if I missed something please let me know.

Also I sometimes tend to make minor changes to the chapters.

Thank you! For reading I hope you enjoyed it.💖

TAGLIST: @magictoebean

[bcnes]

"What, and lose access to the best stash on the ship? They'd have to be outta their head. And you're claiming I'm in the wrong?" He's got other reasons, like the fact that Scotty is more tolerant of Leonard's many unique brands of nonsense than anybody else would be other than maybe Jim - but also Scotty doesn't pry and poke and prod the way Jim does, either.

But the alcohol is definitely on the list.

A warped piston is a concept that even McCoy can grasp, though he envisions less of how to fix it and more of all the terrible possibilities the problem itself entails. Thankfully Scotty is solution-minded enough for the both of them, though the prospect of being a short a bed when you never know when a crisis may hit is enough to make him sigh.

"Long as it's just one, we'll make do... and knowing who's working on it, I think you're severely overestimating just how long it'll take." He nudges him with the toe of his boot. "If anything, I should be feeling sorry for you. Never any good reason to be stuck in sickbay if you're not a doctor."

Scotty outright snorted, a hand reaching outwards for his toolkit he'd set down before diving head first into the networking of the damn thing. " I believe any other doctor would've requested a quarters transfer by now Len, there's just somethin' wrong with ye. "

A laugh tailed the end of his words before he paused, and poked his head out. " 'M jokin. By the way. "

The commander sat up and wiped his hands off on his pants.

" Well, the piston that raises and lowers the bed itself is warped ta hell an' back. Nothin' that cannae be fixed, but yer gonna be down a biobed for the day. The whole thing's gonna have ta come apart... Yer stuck with fer the day, so sorry. "