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vampyrsm · 19 days

Text

𝐒𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐒𝐖𝐀𝐏

✽ — PAIRING: Bakugou Katsuki x Reader ✽ — SYNOPSIS: When a job goes south, Bakugou and Kirishima are left dealing with the consequences of saving a life that maybe they shouldn't have. ✽ — WORD COUNT: est. 30.2k ✽ — WARNINGS: Female reader (she/her used), Cyberpunk AU, gun violence, gunshot wounds, descriptions of dead bodies, blood, body modifications, amnesia, death threats, POV changes between Bakugou & Reader, enemies to lovers (?), eventual smut, angst, no beta reader, no second part, there are no happy endings in night city. ✽ — NOTES: It only took me two years but hey, it's here. You don't necessarily need to know anything about cyberpunk to read this, I've tried to explain things as best as I can in the fic itself. But if you have any questions, please feel free to send me an ask! ✽ — EXTRAS: Playlist // AO3

“Shit!”

“The fuck did you do now?!” The blonde rounds the back of the car, a hand clasping the handgun tight in one hand whilst the other runs frantically through his sweat-slicked hair. It was not meant to go like this, this was meant to be an easy job.

That’s what Aizawa said! Easy! The warehouse they were supposed to hit tonight was rumoured to be empty, no one had been seen moving in and out of it for days. There wasn’t meant to be a gunfight and now Bakugou worries about how it’ll come back around to bite him in the ass.

His eyes snap away from the pools of blood and a mixture of chemical fluids. Kirishima is hunched over something in the open trunk of the car, his shoulders are bunched and Bakugou can practically feel the tension rolling off of his best friend in waves. “Oi, what the fuck is—”

Kirishima steps back, and Bakugou’s words die on the tip of his tongue when he stares down at the loot Aizawa had sent them to get. He had said it was just a simple shipment, a bunch of cyberware shit that needed to be shifted from one side of Night City to the other. But this was not just any old sort of cyberware.

Arasaka cyberware.

That meant the crate would most likely be tracked, and inside of it would be goods worth more money than either of the two Mercs had touched in their entire life.

“Oh fuck me–” Bakugou speaks first, eyes locked onto the metallic case. “Ei, we need to drop this shit. We can’t be caught with it, they’ll have our fucking balls.”

“No shit we can’t be caught with it! But what do we do with it now?! We can’t just leave it, what if the Maelstrom comes back and takes whatever’s inside of it?” Kirishima’s the one glaring at Bakugou now, the look making the man of 6’8” seem more of a terrifying monster than anything. “Why did you have to say yes to this job, man? We were fine for a few more weeks–”

“Because it would’ve gotten us both out of the fucking city Eijirou!” Bakugou yells finally, he is shorter than Kirishima but still at his own height of 6’3”, he makes up for his lack of height in comparison with his explosive anger. “I took it so that we could go back fucking home! Don’t you want that?!”

“Of course, I wan–”

Bang!

Instinctively Bakugou and Kirishima drop to the ground, Bakugou pulls his handgun up and is ready to fire whilst Kirishima's skin shifts with the metal plating. The two of them were a two-man team that was inseparable, Kirishima the shield and Bakugou the firepower. Both of their eyes are locked together as they wait to see if there’s another gunshot, Bakugou’s heart feels like it might beat its way out of his chest any minute now. He was certain he had gotten everyone, his optical enhancements had confirmed as much.

The red of his eyes flash to life as he takes a deep breath before peeking over the back of the car, it’s silent for a moment before he hears a dragging noise and sure enough—there’s a body heat signature east of the car, hidden behind some boxes and crates. His arms adjust on the car, holding his gun steady, ready to shoot the second their head peeks over the crate.

…But then the heat signature flickers out, and Bakugou drops his position in confusion before there’s another bang and this time the bullet does collide with the car.

“Fuck, they’ve got some sort of tech that lets them hide from my optics,” Bakugou whispers harshly to Kirishima who has his back plastered to the car, his face stoic despite the possibility of being taken out by someone who was possessing cyberware that’d allow them to appear out of thin air practically.

Kirishima nods once, the body plating along his forearms clicking into place as he readies to use himself as a human shield. Bakugou steels his nerves, eyes flashing back to life before finally saying “Move with me.”

The two of them are up in an instant, Kirishima crossing his arms over his upper half and tensing his muscles to ensure his body mass covers Bakugou entirely whilst the blonde slips his arm just beneath Kirishima’s with the gun poised and ready to shoot. The crimson of his eye gleams in the darkness when he catches the heat signature once again dashing from one crate to another and this time Bakugou doesn’t hesitate. The gun fires in rapid succession, neither of the men flinching. The reaction is immediate when there’s what sounds like something falling to the floor.

“Lost visual again,” Bakugou confirms when the warm red spot vanishes from his vision, leaving just droplets of what must be blood on the floor in their wake. Both mercs wait in silent anticipation, Kirishima moving with each step Bakugou takes as if it were second nature to him—perhaps at this point in life, it was second nature.

Kirishima had come with Bakugou from Tokyo to Night City nearly 15 years ago with the plan that the two of them were simply there for one job. It was going to give them life-changing money, something the two of them desperately needed for themselves and their families back home.

“Ei!” Bakugou yells, Kirishima plants both of his boots against the ground and brings up his arms to defend his face. The bullet buries itself into the metal plating of his arm, pulling a deep grunt from the man.

“Motherfucker–!”

Bakugou again fires the gun, a snarl resting on his face and this time he hears the sound of flesh being hit by the bullet, and then the sound of a body slumping onto the ground. Kirishima finally steps down from being the human shield, pulling his arm up to view the bullet that’s embedded deep into his forearm. No doubt the Doc will be pissed about this when he gets back.

“All good?” Bakugou asks, changing out the mag in his gun before glancing towards the foot he can now see peeking out from behind the boxes. Kirishima grunts a yes whilst pulling the bullet free from his arm, the sound of it hitting the floor loud in the now silent warehouse. “Doc’s gonna kill ya for that.”

“Ya think? She only just upgraded it for me.” Kirishima almost whines, quite the opposite of the man he just was as he watches the black liquid of the synthetic fluids leak from his arm in place of blood. “If I ask her nicely, do you think– Hey, where are you going?” Kirishima watches Bakugou slam shut the trunk of the car before stomping his way over to the body he’d just shot, he had to know if it was enough scumbag from some gang or if Arasaka were already onto them.

Bakugou rounds the crate, readying his gun to fire once more and freezes in place; gun raised just slightly, eyes widened and mouth ajar. “You’ve got to be fuckin’ kidding me—Ei, get here. Now.”

Kirishima walks over when the ash blonde hisses at him to hurry the fuck up, wiping the black liquid free from his arms before looking down at what Bakugou was staring at.

“Ohh.. fuck, dude.” He gapes at the girl lying on the floor, covered head-to-toe in blacked-out clothing. But it wasn’t the fact it was a girl that Bakugou had taken down, but rather it was the fact she had the Militech symbol stitched into the sleeve of her t-shirt. “What the fuck did Militech want with this?”

“I don’t know—maybe to reignite that old corporate war they had years ago with Arasaka? Everyone knows both of them are fucked up.” Bakugou is still frozen, the handgun still aimed to shoot. If he takes out this Militech assassin, it’s most likely going to be tracked back to them and by them; he means the new family he had found in Night City. It was a tightly knit group, all coming from similar backgrounds to his own but ending up in NC for different reasons. He couldn’t do that to them, he couldn’t get them killed because he took a job to run away.

Kirishima squats down next to the body, head tilting as he leans a little closer towards her head. His hand hovers just next to her face, “The fuck you doin’ now? Gettin’ your big ass fingerprints all over the body so they ca—”

“Shush,” Kirishima demands, and Bakugou goes to defy immediately before he’s shushed for a second time whilst Kirishima puts his index finger beneath her nose. It’s a tense moment, but he feels it. “Still breathing, we could still call trauma and—”

“And what? She relays to her boss that she ran into one very identifiable red-haired giant and his angry friend? No. We kill her.”

“Wait! Wait!” Kirishima moves to push the gun away when Bakugou raises it, meeting his scathing glare with his own determined one. “What if we use her for info? Clearly whatever is in that box is worth enough to get both Arasaka and Militech willing to fight.”

Bakugou’s jaw ticks as he clenches it, eyes flicking between his red-haired friend and the girl on the floor. He’s right, Aizawa might know something about this, and if they’re able to pull info from her about Militech then they could probably sell it to Arasaka for a pretty penny.

“Shit.” He huffs, finally pulling the gun back and holstering it. “Fine, but you’re the fucker that’s got to explain why we’re dragging a half-dead Militech asshole through the Docs door.”

“—not keeping—”

“This is your—”

“Guys.”

Everything felt…wrong. Nothing felt like it belonged, and yet it did at the same time. Mechanical parts clicking and groaning, blood pumping in and out, brain whirring to life. Lights that are far too bright for delicate eyes, and all noises submerged in synthetic water.

What was happening?

Where were you?

“Can you hear me?” a voice calls from a distant place to your left, you want to open your eyes or will your lips to move to form the words that are hanging at the end of your tongue. What happened to you? Nothing made sense, you didn’t recognise that voice and you didn’t recognise the coldness of the metal table you were laid on.

“Hey—wait, calm down.” A smooth, cold hand presses itself against your sternum and it was as if a light switch had been flipped in the dark recesses of your mind. You didn’t have to think when your own hand wraps around the offending limb, fingers curling dangerously tight.

“Shit, I knew this was a fucking mistake!” A new voice, distantly familiar. There’s a scrambling of feet, and finally, your eyes are opening. The light is blinding, but you can make out the blurry outlines of figures that are double your size and they’re frantically moving to reach something; guns, you belatedly realise and you don’t miss a beat in hauling yourself off of the metal table.

The two men—you can finally see them now and they’re nothing short of a pair of gigantic cyborgs—have turned to you with guns raised but they haven't made a move yet. Your arm tenses around something until you hear a squeak accompanied by a choking sound. Hesitantly you glance down to see you have a woman with brown hair pinned to your chest with one forearm crushing her throat and the other raised in their direction.

“Now, just hold on.” The one with the red hair speaks, his hands raised to show he’s no threat but you don’t miss the way his skin shifts with the metal plating. Armour. He must be the shield, and the other must be the firepower.

“Lower your weapon.” Weapon? You flick your eyes towards the blonde who most definitely isn’t lowering his weapon. The redhead shifts again, and he’s taken a step forward towards you but his hands are still up in surrender. “Please, lower your weapon.”

He must see the confusion on your face so he points towards your free arm currently not crushing the woman to your body. You hesitate to look where his finger is pointing, but it’s hard to miss when your eyes drift slightly away from the redhead. In place of your arm is what looks like an M-179 precision rifle.

Wait—how do you know what type of weapon that is? You’ve never held a gun in your life before, you–you…–you were just some street rat. The weapon retreats back into your arm, clicking your own metal plates back together until it’s smoothed over as if it had never existed in the first place.

Did these people put these parts into you? Had they found you passed out in some dark alleyway and dragged you here to experiment on you? That’s the only explanation, it’s the only reason you’re in this dingy ripper doctor's office.

“S–Stop. Can’t—breathe.” the woman croaks against your arm, and you realise you’re actually starting to crush her windpipe with your forearm. She stumbles forward with a hard choke, whilst you launch yourself back into the surrounding deskspace. Metal clangs and surgical instruments fall to the floor in a loud clatter, the roaring in your ears is too loud to hear what the people are saying to you.

Another set of hands place themselves against you, your upper arms this time but they’re no longer cold, they’re warm. A shroud of red covers the edges of your vision and all you can focus on is the face directly in front of yours, his lips are moving and it’s impossible to decipher what he’s trying to say.

Why does his face seem so familiar? You had seen this hair somewhere before, and those teeth. You had never run into someone with such sharp teeth and yet your mind couldn’t stop trying to find just where you had seen them before. The red-haired man looks over his shoulder, letting you see the blonde who was frowning in your direction still brandishing the gun that was pointed directly at your head if anything were to go wrong.

“—know man!”

“Move so I can—”

“You.” Both voices silence immediately. Two different sets of red eyes on you and yet they both carry a different feeling; one filled with curious sympathy and the other hardened disgust. “Who are you? I–I think I know you.”

“Uh, well, I’m Kirishima.” There’s a groan of annoyance from what you assume to be the blonde whilst the one named Kirishima keeps his eyes on yours. “What about you, what’s your name?”

Your lips part, tongue moving to accommodate the syllables of your name and yet nothing comes forward. You try again with furrowed eyebrows but it feels like your tongue is too big for your mouth and your throat is restricting around your name. In your oncoming panic, you latch a hand to your throat, widening your eyes when you try again and again to spit your name out.

“Hey! Alright!” A hand comes around your wrist and peels your fingers away from the skin of your throat, and Kirishima takes a deep breath when he looks down at you. “You don’t remember a thing, do you?” your only response is a shake of your head, and you swear the man's shoulders slump as he deflates a little at your admission. Had they known you?

“Fuckin’ brilliant, Ei. Now Aizawa’s gonna have our ass for bringing back a death machine with memory loss and the tendency to lash out!” Death machine? Did he mean you? However you don’t get to answer the question because the blonde stomps out of the room, the slam of the door stunning the room into silence.

Another sigh before Kirishima drops his hands from your upper arms and straightens out to his full height. He is huge, bigger than anyone you have ever seen before. “You should rest before tonight.” He supplies, turning towards the door and you realise the brown-haired woman had also vacated the room at some point.

“Wait. Tonight?” you take a careful step after him and you don’t miss the way his shoulders stiffen, nor the way his forearm plating clicks to ready himself. Was he scared of you? No. That can’t be right, this gigantic man could not be scared of you. You’re certain he could crush you if he wanted with just a single hand.

“Tonight you’re meeting our fixer.” and just like that he was gone, the door closing behind him with an audible click.

They had locked you in.

Looking back around the room, eyes caught on the glint of various medical tools that had been scattered across the white tile floor. There are no windows besides the one at the far back of the room, but even from where you stand you can see it’s barred. You were well and truly trapped.

And so, with nothing else to do, you sat in the desk chair by the bed you had woken up on—and waited.

...

The next time you see Kirishima is when he had come to collect you from your makeshift prison, at some point someone—you assumed it was the Ripper—had shoved clothes in through the small gap of the door, you hadn’t realised you were in a state of undress when you had initially woken up.

Kirishima smiles at you, but you can see it doesn’t meet his eyes as he towers over you. He’s dressed differently too, in a black leather jacket over a red distressed vest and black jeans with some very expensive-looking sneakers. He looked much more like his age like this, you didn’t realise he was more around your age.

“Ready?” Kirishima offers, burying both of his hands into his front pockets and leaning against the frame of the door—While he seemed relaxed, you knew he was blocking off your only escape route.

You look down at yourself, you’re not quite sure how they had managed to get your size somewhat right but the black cargo pants and graphic tee were comfortable. The only thing they hadn’t measured correctly was the heavy orange bomber jacket that dwarfed you immensely.

“Yeah, readier than I’ll ever be anyway.” Kirishima just nods, finally pushing the door open and letting you walk out first before he shuts the door behind you both.

The door immediately opens out onto a street, the floor is wet from the rain and the neon street lights give the dingy alleyway some light. You can’t tell where you are, when you look up there is nothing but a concrete overpass blocking you from seeing the sky. “C’mon, he doesn’t like tardiness.”

“Who?” You jog to keep up with Kirishima’s wide – normal – steps, you barely come up to his shoulder and you have to crane your head up to look at him.

“Aizawa, our fixer. He doesn’t normally meet with new faces, but you’ve piqued his interest.”

“But how? I’ve not done anything, I don’t even know who I am.” You try to explain, the emptiness that sits in your brain is unnerving, to say the least.

Kirishima finally looks down at you, nothing but pity in his eyes. “That’s exactly why he wants to see you.”

The rest of the walk is in silence, not that Kirishima seems to mind much whilst he flicks through his phone. You’re not quite sure who Aizawa was, but you knew what Fixers were. They were smugglers, fencers and they loved to handle information. Is that why he wanted to see you? To get information from you? But you had none to give, and when Fixers often don’t get what they want… they dispose of the useless item.

Sparing a glance towards Kirishima, he was far too engrossed in his phone to realise the thoughts you were currently harbouring. You could make a run for it, he’s much bigger than you, sure, but you’re smaller. Maybe you’re faster. He could lose you easily in a crowd of people, you don’t want to be killed for something that’s not your fault.

“I wouldn’t if I were you,” Kirishima says without missing a beat, his eyes not drifting away from his phone and you have to focus on not tripping over your own feet at being caught out. He hadn’t even looked at you, you weren’t that obvious– “If you run then that means I have to admit Bakugou was right and then I have to chase you down.” Finally, he looks at you, raising an eyebrow to see if you’re still going to do it.

“I won’t run.” You say with less conviction than you would’ve liked but Kirishima seems happy enough with it, finally pocketing his phone into his back pocket before nodding his head forward.

“Here we are.” You turn to look at the building you’re both standing in front of. It fronts what looks to be a bar, not quite as modern as some of the others you had passed by. It looked more oriental and authentic. It’s not imposing, it blends in perfectly wedged between two other buildings that look like stores—it’s the perfect place for a Fixer you realise, it stands out enough to those seeking the man known as Aizawa but in an area shoddy enough that it won’t draw in too many people.

Kirishima doesn’t give you more time to inspect the building, guiding you inwards with a hand between your shoulder blades until you’re past the old wooden doors and inside a very well-kept bar. It’s relatively empty, with a few people hanging around by the bar but it’s quiet.

Your eyes rove over the multitude of artwork hanging from the walls, swirling paint strokes and sculptured mythical creatures. Kirishima drops his hand from your back once he’s sure you’re secured in the building, leaving you standing alone whilst he meanders towards the bar to talk to a pretty girl with bouncy curly pink hair.

“Oi,” a gruff voice calls from behind you, your shoulders jump at the closeness of the gruff voice and you spin to see the blonde from earlier. He has a frown on his face the second he meets your eyes before they drag down and latch onto the bomber jacket you’re wearing. He seems to glare somewhat harder, sucking at the back of his teeth. “No fucking around. I won’t hesitate to blow your head off this time.”

“This her?” a deep, almost sleepy voice drawls and you turn to meet the man to whom the voice belongs. He’s got shoulder-length black hair, and tired eyes yet the look he’s giving you is enough to tell you he’s very alert. You can’t help but straighten your spine a little, attention drawn away from the blonde who just huffs and wanders elsewhere. “Doesn’t look like much of a threat to me.”

You’re left blinking at the man, the silence suffocating until you look hesitantly across the room to meet a set of red eyes—but they aren’t Kirishima’s. Bakugou was clearly growing agitated the longer this was drawn out. “I’ve never been a threat.”

“Bakugou and Kirishima seem to think otherwise, even our Ripper Doc had said you have some interesting chrome.” Aizawa continues, settling into one of the seats close by before he regards you again. “But they also said you don’t remember who you are, is that true?”

“I–... Yes, it is.” Interesting chrome? “I don’t know how I got my upgrades, I woke up surrounded and I just acted on instinct.”

There’s a beat of silence, the palms of your hands growing sweaty and you suddenly feel like you’re standing in a pit with lions.

Then Aizawa breathes in deeply, sighing a little on his exhale. “I don’t know why, but I believe you.” There’s a noise of disagreement from Bakugou somewhere to the side but Aizawa continues anyway, “You could be useful to us. I’m sure your memories will come back over time and you’ll be even more valuable to us then. It’d be stupid of me to let you go.”

“Let me go? You want to keep me prisoner?”

“Not a prisoner. We just can’t have you wandering the streets in the state that you are, it’s safer for everyone involved if you stay here.”

It made sense, you supposed. You would be safer staying in one place instead of wandering the streets, especially if you had no idea who you were. Swallowing the lump of anxiety, you nod your head in agreement and Aizawa visibly relaxes in his seat before he casts a glance towards Kirishima and Bakugou.

“On second thoughts… I think it’ll be better for you to stay with those two.”

“What?!” Bakugou all but yells, the beer bottle in his hand smashing onto the floor in haste to get to his feet in disbelief. “I am not a fucking babysitter, and I’m not looking after some corpo—”

“You found her, you look after her. Didn’t I teach you that when I found you?”

Bakugou’s upper lip curls into a snarl, his eyes darting from Aizawa and towards you–it’s like you’ve been pinned to the spot underneath his hateful gaze. His tongue drags along his lips, rolling his bottom lip into his mouth before he leaves without another word. Kirishima is quick to take his place, stepping up close to you to take you back to wherever you had to stay.

“I promise he’s not always this bad—well, most of the time he is but he’s a good guy,” Kirishima says, a hand back on the spot between your shoulder blades to guide you out of the bar and back onto the open street where you finally see Bakugou once again. He’s sitting on a motorbike, an expensive-looking one. “Yo, Bakugou. Are we–”

“You have one fucking chance left. If you pull that shit again that you did at the Docs, I’ll personally rip your head from your shoulders. Got it?” Bakugou points a finger in your direction, which only makes Kirishima huff a sigh of annoyance and drag a hand over his face. “One. Then you’re done.”

He must not expect an answer as he slips the helmet over his head, the sleek black of it reflecting only the neon street lights but you can still feel his glare on you before he revs his engine once, twice—then he’s gone.

You look up at Kirishima finally when Bakugou is gone, and the redhead just smiles awkwardly at you whilst rubbing the nape of his neck. “I did warn ya.”

To say the next few days were painful is an understatement.

You had been confined to an apartment shared between both Kirishima and Bakugou, whilst the redhead was happy to have another roommate—Bakugou was not. He made it his mission to make it hellish for you.

It started with him refusing to cook you food whenever he did for Kirishima and himself (Kirishima had to convince him to at least give you something to eat or you’d die and then Aizawa would be pissed). Then it started with the loud music early in the morning, you had no real bed so you had to sleep on the expensive U-shaped couch and Bakugou took great joy in turning the radio on and making sure it was on full blast.

Kirishima did try to stop Bakugou’s attempts to drive you to a point of anger that would make you act out, which only had Bakugou sneering in your direction before he left to go do whatever the fuck he did all day.

And it was going somewhat well, that same routine every day. Until Bakugou got a call.

Currently, you’re sitting on the couch, your elbows digging into your thighs whilst you lean forward. The room was deathly silent, save for the sound of the passing Trauma Team AV that flew by the window.

Kirishima was staring out of the window, both of his hands pressing against the cool metal window ledge, the lights of the nightlife outside reflecting off of the various strips of chrome covering his jaw and down along his throat.

Opposite you was Bakugou, his knee bouncing in what appeared to be nervousness whilst both of his hands were buried deep in his blonde hair, head tilted back to stare at the ceiling above.

“This cannot be fuckin’ happening.” He groans for the nth time that evening since ending the call. “That old fucking man—the nerve, all of the shit I do for him… and this is how he rewards me?!”

“Dude, Aizawa has never steered us wrong. He obviously thinks we can trust her.” Kirishima says in an odd tone like his voice was devoid of any emotion. You supposed it made sense, he had never been able to trust you either for whatever reason.

“Well, I think we can’t.” Bakugou drops his head back forward, meeting your gaze and a sharp shiver rolls down your spine. “You remember what I told you before I let you come and squat in my apartment?”

“Our apartment.” Kirishima supplies quietly, though Bakugou is undeterred.

“You’ll kill me.”

“Right, I’ll fucking kill you.” Bakugou finally stands, swiping the pulse rifle off of the table between the two of you before fixing it over one of his shoulders. “Now get the fuck up, we’ve got a Tyger Claws cunt to go kill.”

The back of Kirishima’s car was very plush, you couldn’t help but wonder how good at being mercs the two of them were. They seemed to be living in the lap of luxury yet they decided to stay in Night City, but you didn’t dare ask why they were still here. Bakugou would probably take the opportunity to bite your head off.

You sunk into the leather and watched the city pass by, the rain bounced off of the roof of the car and rolled down the windows in thick streaks. It still made no sense as to why Aizawa put you on this mission with them too, they were capable on their own so just what did Aizawa expect from you? You can’t even remember a time when you had used a gun so surely you’d just be deadweight—another reason for Bakugou to be on your ass if you fuck up.

As if somehow sensing your inner anguish, Kirishima turns in his seat enough to meet your eyes.

“Ready for this?” You’re not quite sure why he’s asking, even Bakugou seems to furrow his brows in confusion at why the redhead even gives a fuck about if you’re ready or not. “It should be a pretty simple gig, the Tyger Claws are ruthless but this guy we’re going for? Big junkie, won’t see us coming.” Kirishima grins at the end of his sentence, and you can’t help the small smile that grows on your face.

“Right, yeah, I’m ready.” You say with a small nod.

“Say it with more confidence and I might actually believe you for once.” Bakugou gruffs from his own spot in the driver's seat, with only one hand on the wheel and the other propped up on the door beside the window. He’s chewing at the skin of his thumb; one might think he’s actually a bit anxious. Kirishima only gives you a look you now know is his attempt at apologising on behalf of the antagonising blonde before he sinks back into his seat with a huff.

“Don’t gotta be so rude all the time man, she probably doesn’t want to be here as much as you.” Kirishima all but grumbles to himself, looking away when Bakugou shoots him a scathing glare.

“Yeah? Then maybe she’ll fuck off at the first chance she gets, won’t have to deal with her anymore.” The car falls into an awkward silence at that, not even Kirishima can counter the fact that it would be simpler if you did disappear but you can see the sad frown that’s making him look much more like a kicked puppy than anything. The music on the radio does nothing to squash the tension, instead, it only adds to the palpable dark energy rolling from Bakugou in thick waves.

Soon enough the car is pulled into a darkened alleyway, only the rats and drunkards faintly aware of the presence of the two big mercs who get out of the car in a heartbeat. They seem to move in an organised way; a practised routine you realise. By the time you close the car door behind you, there’s a gun being thrust in your face. “Here, I know it’s not much but—it should do the job,” Kirishima leans a little as if sharing a secret “It’s all Bakugou would agree to give you, think you still scare him.”

You hum, eyeing the handgun in your hand and feeling its weight. It felt lighter than you expected, your fingers moulded perfectly around the hilt and you tilted your head to inspect the barrel. Something feels very familiar with the gun now in your hand, and as you look at both Bakugou and Kirishima to thank them you falter for a moment.

Your vision flickers, the city behind them flashes to an old warehouse before it returns to normal. Kirishima seems to be talking animatedly but Bakugou’s eyes are locked onto your own, an unreadable expression on his face—maybe it’s because there is no real emotion on his face. No scowl, no anything, he looks like a blank slate.

“Anyway, we ready for this? It’ll be over before we know it and then we can go to that ramen noodle bar I mentioned last week!” Kirishima grins, slapping a hand against his hardened stomach.

“Yeah.” Bakugou finally speaks, breaking his eyes away from your own and down to the weapon in his hands. “The plan is Kirishima will be the shield, I’m the firepower, and you just follow us and keep quiet.” He says whilst staring you down, gone is the blank expression and that familiar frown is again creasing his skin. You just nod, and he seems happy enough with that response to turn on his heel and lead the way into the back exit of the building.

The building is rundown, as are all the buildings in Night City outside of the high-end Corporate zones. You traverse over tipped-over vending machines, various boxes and crates that had been ripped apart and ransacked for all their worth. It’s dark and dingy, a low stream of smog flitting through the air from the old vents in the ceiling. The only way you can tell you’re going the correct way is with the help of the flickering dim fluorescent lights overhead, Kirishima and Bakugou are both deadly silent and somehow moving without even making a noise.

The journey up the stairs is quick, without the worry of someone hearing the three of you coming, both men take the steps three at a time—leaving you to hurry after them as quickly as you can.

Both of them freeze once they reach the door that leads to the 6th floor, Bakugou shifting a few steps back and Kirishima takes his spot wordlessly in front of the blonde. The clicking of Kirishima’s skin has you focusing on him, the way the metal plating shifts almost looks like his skin is hardening. Bakugou has his own gun raised, the heavy rifle looks like it weighs nothing in one hand when he taps the other on Kirishima’s shoulder indicating he’s ready to breach.

It all happens in three very quick steps.

First, Kirishima rips open the door to the point where it’s detached from the wall and tumbles down the stairwell—you have to plaster yourself to the wall to avoid being squashed.

Second, breaching. Bakugou has both his hands back on his rifle, his eyes illuminating the chrome strips on his face whilst Kirishima steps forward with purpose.

Third, gunfire. It happens in five quick taps of the rifle's trigger, Bakugou hardly shifting from the recoil as he swivels just his upper half whilst hunching his shoulders slightly to ensure each and every single one of his shots is a direct headshot. The sound of bodies slumping on the floor is your cue to finally enter the room, and a part of you wishes you hadn’t.

The room smells horrific, a stench you for some reason recognise as death. But it wasn’t coming from the fresh bodies, no, it was deeper in the large room. The translucent sheets of plastic that hang from the ceiling obscure most of the room, with multiple splatters of blood staining the material. Bakugou lowers his weapon slowly, Kirishima finally parting ways to do his own investigation of the place.

“Think we got him?” Kirishima asks, using his foot to roll over one of the men Bakugou took out before grimacing at the clean shot between the eyes. Bakugou was a beast with the gun, there’s a reason why he was so sought out by Fixers other than Aizawa.

“Dunno, I didn’t get a clear look at their faces.” Bakugou comments from the other side of the room, squatting down to roll a guy over to inspect his face.

Both men are too occupied with the gig to notice that you’re traversing through the middle of the room, pushing past the thin sheets of plastic to grow closer to the source of the blueish neon lights. With each step, the smell grows stronger, a rotting kind of stench mixed with what smells like fried electronics. A shiver rolls down your spine, a warning to stop yourself from pushing past the final sheet of plastic. Your fingers curl against the material, crinkling it and still, both men are blissfully unaware of what you’re about to unveil—

An empty ice bath.

Your eyebrows furrowed together, multiple thick wires and cords were all scattered around the bath yet there was no one connected to those wires. You take a hesitant step forward, the smell is still so strong—something isn’t right. The ice bath looked fresh, except for the blood staining on either side of the white porcelain, following the streaks upwards until you see a blinking screen displaying vitals.

Ayaka Ichida. Age: 26 Occupation: Arasaka Executive ECG: N/A Blood Pressure: N/A

“Arasaka?” You murmur to yourself, fingers ghosting underneath the word. Why did that name send a painful twinge through your head? Perhaps it was just the notoriety of the corporation. Arasaka were rumoured to be funding the Tyger Claws way back in 2020 but it’s been nearly sixty years since then—

Your eyes lose focus the longer you stare at the screen, no longer looking at the words but rather the reflection of something moving behind you. It’s neither Bakugou nor Kirishima, you would’ve heard them approaching. This is a woman, her skin completely exposed, and dripping wet. Shit.

Her arm raises, the revolver sitting in her hand looks weighty and it’s definitely fully loaded when you catch the barrel of it. You spin on your heel, a hand stretched out ready to yell at Bakugou to move but it’s like you hit an invisible wall. Everything feels fuzzy in your brain, a wave of electricity passing through your body and shooting up and down your spine.

You must’ve shouted something because you can see Kirishima raise his head in worry, Bakugou clambering to his feet but it’s as if everything is moving in slow motion. The barrel spins, the trigger clicks and the flash of the gun is bright in your eyes.

You don’t quite realise you’ve moved until it’s too late, the fuzziness in each of your limbs is all-consuming. It’s as if you’ve been dunked in ice water and your limbs are slowly regaining their warmth—it’s painful. You blink, and suddenly your face is in Bakugou's; his eyes are wide and mouth agape as if he’s at a loss for words. Your entire right arm aches, but your spine hurts something fierce.

Not quite understanding how you had moved from one side of the room to the other, you glance over your shoulder to see the body—it’s more of just a pair of legs at this point, blood sprayed up along the walls and to the ceiling; bits and pieces dripping and dropping with a sickening wet thud. Did you do that?

The ache in your arm brings your eyes back to it, and it’s no surprise to see that the entirety of your arm was replaced with the rifle you had pulled out not too long ago at the Ripperdocs. It doesn’t look like you damaged your arm, the skin easily shifting back into place whilst you turn back to look at Bakugou. There’s a spray of blood on his face too, the blonde of his hair tainted by a dark shade of crimson that almost looked black. Bakugou is looking at you with what you might assume is worry, or some level of it anyway as he still seems to be frowning.

You open your mouth to speak, your throat tightening until you sputter out a thick vicious black liquid. Immediately your hand comes up to your mouth, touching your lips to see the synthetic blood leaking from your lips in thick rivers. “Wha…” you try to speak. Taking a step back from Bakugou, it feels like you’ve been hit by a train, your fingers go to press against the sore spot on your back but instead, you meet—nothing.

Your fingers pass through where your side should’ve been. You can feel the sticky synthetic blood coat your fingers as it continues to pour from your body, you can even feel the outline of the frayed edges of the artificial muscles you didn’t know you had.

“Shit!” There’s a set of hands on your shoulders, your entire world tilting backwards suddenly. “Hold the fuck on!” A voice calls from somewhere, yet you can’t see where it’s coming from. Your senses shut down one by one until you’re left floating in an endless amount of space.

It’s dark here.

Cold.

The vastness of the space around you expands over the horizon, and it feels like something is pricking into your skin. It hurts, everything hurts here. It’s too loud, yet it’s completely silent. Glancing down at your hands, your stomach drops and swoops in anxiety at the sight—you’re not made of human matter, but rather data. Pixels, bunched together to form a non-corporeal form of yourself. You’d heard rumours of this before.

Cyberspace.

It’s an odd feeling, to be existing but also not at the same time. The Net was such a vast expanse of data and network that almost anyone in the world could access but not everyone could take a step into cyberspace in the third dimension. It was jarring without a doubt but the unlimited knowledge one could access whilst inside of it? That’s why there were so many Netrunners, people dedicated to diving into the Net and hacking whatever data they needed.

But this place you were currently in didn’t feel like you were getting an endless stream of data, it was as if you had been cut off. Everything around you is freezing cold, with not a single thread of data to grab onto to understand just where you are.

“Hi?” someone says from your side, your head turned sharply to see someone with both lilac hair and eyes, they had a tired expression on their face but even the surprise on their face was easy to spot.

They hadn’t expected to be put into the Net alongside you. Both of their hands moved up to show they had no weapons, not that an experienced Netrunner would need weapons inside of a place like this.

“Listen, I was told to try and come pull you out. You’ve been in here for two weeks and—”

“Two?” How has it been that long? You had only just woken up, it felt like you had just been in the gunfight and protected both Bakugou and Kirishima; even potentially giving your life up for the blonde. “I–I don’t understand, how has it been that long? Who even are you?”

“My name’s Shinsou. You need to listen to me very carefully if you want me to get you out of here, okay?” He takes a step closer, stretching out a hand in an attempt to touch you—

There’s a pounding on your head, a throbbing pain that spreads behind your eyes and down to the base of your skull. Accompanying the throb is a low hum, more of a thrumming kind of noise that beckons you to turn around. Slowly you do, eyes glancing up from your hands to meet a set of dull blurred verdant eyes. Though these eyes do not seem familiar, they seem deadly, calculating. They glare at you through the opaque screen you hadn’t noticed, you can just about make out their body on the other side.

They have a single hand pressed against the screen, and the other curled into a fist that’s repeatedly beating against the screen. Each time it hits you can feel the pressure on your brain, was this your own consciousness? Who was this person? You move to take a step back but their punches only grow more frantic, more aggressive. It’s getting louder and louder, and the pressure on your brain is unbearable. Why can’t you wake up? The throbbing grows more intense until there’s a shooting pain that brings you down to your knees, curling your fingers into the ground.

You can’t hear the voice of the man named Shinsou anymore, you’re not even sure if he’s still there. All you can focus on is the throbbing pain, the way it chokes you and holds you in place. Demanding your attention.

“Found you.” A static-filled voice speaks from the darkness, and you look up to see the crack in the screen with a much clearer view of almost black-green hair. It sounds like he might be laughing, it sounds almost manic before he calls out a name, a name you can’t ignore—your name. “I’ll see you soon.”

As soon as the words left his mouth, the world around you started to melt away until you were left in complete darkness once again, though this darkness felt somehow different. You could feel something beneath you, smooth and metallic, familiar.

The second time you awake in the Ripperdocs office isn’t quite as jarring as the first, the lights are dimmed and there are no arguing voices. It’s easy to open your eyes, staring up at the overhead lights that have been turned off. The room is silent, the only distant noise is the street just on the other side of the door.

Slowly you rise from the table you had been laid out on, you didn’t need to look around to know you were alone this time. Has it really been two weeks since—you gasp, fingers touching the side where you had been hit but instead you meet the warm flesh of your body? Looking down to confirm that you weren’t imagining it, it looked like you hadn’t even been hit. No scars. Nothing.

There’s a laugh nearby, drawing your attention to the set of double doors you had never set foot through before. You slide from the cold table, your bare feet gently slapping on the cold tile floor. Taking a step forward your body falters, swaying to the side on uneasy legs, the table of surgical instruments clatters when you bump a hip against it and you freeze to see if anyone would be alerted to your presence.

No one comes bursting through the door.

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you take another step forward. This time you were careful of where you placed your feet, and with each slow yet steady step you finally regain control over your legs. Soon enough you’re standing in front of the double doors, the voices on the other side muffled but they don’t sound familiar in the slightest. Were you even back with Bakugou and Kirishima? Had you been sold off as Bakugou had wanted? Fear danced up and down your spine, you’d have to fight your way out of here if that was the case.

Steadying your heart, you raised your hand carefully to the door, ready to burst through.

Three… Two… One.

You slam the door open, throwing your body through the now open space and your arm lifts as if on autopilot to readjust the metal plating to reveal the rifle buried deep into your very bones. With a quick scan of the room, you register you’re inside what looks like a common room of some sorts. There was a sofa, a pool table, a kitchen on the east side of the room and a gigantic TV that was broadcasting something.

There’s movement, a heat signature, and your arm automatically moves to point at the two men who are on the sofa. The yellow-haired one is the first to scream, then the one with black hair who scrambles off of the sofa to try and seek safety.

“W-Wait!” The black-haired one yells, throwing his hands up, “Don’t shoot! We’re not the enemy!”

Another door on the other side of the room beside the kitchen bursts open, there’s a scrambling of feet and clambering to all get in the room first. But Bakugou is the first in, his hand firm around the gun in hand as he raises it ready to shoot until he realises he has the barrel of his gun pointed at you. If you weren’t staring at him you might’ve missed the way his shoulders sag in relief. Kirishima is next to come in, eyes darting from both men who were sprawled amongst the mess of chips and used beer cans that had been dashed across the room in their attempt to flee immediate death.

“Oh, you’re awake.” A voice that’s now familiar to you calls your name, the man with lilac hair sidesteps around the two hulking figures. There’s a lazy smile on his face, “Welcome back to the land of the living.”

Both Kirishima and Bakugou parrot the name Shinsou had given you, eyes drifting from Shinsou and to you, connecting the name to the face they’ve been living with for a while now.

“Yep, that’s the name of our friend here.” Shinsou walks into the room as if there wasn’t just a standoff moments ago, dropping into an unoccupied seat. “We should probably tell you everything that happened whilst you were ‘out’.” He makes quotation marks around the word, both of you missing the way Bakugou has his eyes locked onto you—or more importantly, your side. Shinsou gestures for you to sit down, and you make your way around the couch slowly whilst the two men you had scared scamper to sit elsewhere.

“I’ll be blunt with you. You’ve been out for nearly three weeks in total. We would’ve tried to pull you out faster but… you have some very impressive chrome. It took me two weeks to break your defences and even then you rejected me in a heartbeat.”

Your eyes break away from Shinsou as he explains your ‘absence’ to watch Bakugou as he tentatively perches on the arm of the couch right next to you, both of his arms crossed over his chest. But the things Shinsou is saying make no sense, you hadn’t pushed him out, it was—you scrunch your eyebrows together, the headache still ever present in the back of your mind the harder you think.

The silence stretches out in the room, just the sound of the TV droning on about Militech moving towards renewing partnerships with Lazarus.

Shinsou clears his throat, demanding your attention once again. “Your wounds actually healed by themselves. You have synthetic muscles but they’re something else. No one has ever seen something like that, even Uraraka said it’s not something Rippers can get their hands on.”

“Yeah… you weren’t actually breathing by the time we got you back here… I—We thought you were going to die.” Kirishima supplies from his position behind the couch, both of his hands clamped on the back of it and you can see the worry settled on his face when you look up at him. So you were dead for a portion of time, had all your chrome and cyberware saved your life? If what Shinsou said is true about your muscles repairing themselves then the time locked into your consciousness made sense.

Shinsou seems to notice the shift in the air first, clearing his throat before he stands up. He gives a stern look towards both Kaminari and Sero who are blatantly staring at you as if you were some anomaly. “We should go.”

“But—” the one with the yellow hair and black streak starts, eyes darting back to you with a question that was probably best unasked.

“Nope. Get the fuck up, we’re leaving.” Shinsou commands, already partway out of the door and he knows Sero and Kaminari will follow as he doesn’t bother looking back.

And soon enough, it is just you, Kirishima and Bakugou who looks like he’s about to shit himself with how tense he is next to you. It’s awkward, to say the least. You’re not quite sure what you should say, sorry for the trouble? Sorry for not dying? You’re sure that last one would apply to Bakugou, he had wanted you gone.

“Why?”

It’s Bakugou who breaks the silence, his head held now between his hands as he stares intently down at his shoes; knee bouncing, he’s anxious. You glance at Kirishima but the redhead just shrugs, urging you to look back at Bakugou. “Why what?”

“Why the fuck did you take the hit, huh?” His eyes meet yours, and you can’t miss the white of his eyes partially red, he was on the verge of tears. “Why the fuck would you do that when I mean nothing to you? It makes no fucking sense, no one just jumps in front of a bullet for someone. I wouldn’t have fuckin’ done it for yo–” He stops himself short, chewing on the words on his tongue that are better left unsaid. But the words still sting the same regardless of how true it is: Bakugou would not have taken a bullet for you, he would not have risked his life for you. Why did you care so much?

“I don’t know.” But it’s not the answer Bakugou is searching for, a frown is on his face but it’s not quite the same as the usual one you often saw him wearing. This one looked pained and confused. He diverts his gaze quickly, refusing to look at you once again before running a hand through his hair. “I guess I felt like I owed you for saving my life.”

Bakugou only gives you one last glare before he’s up from his spot and marching back out of the room, leaving an icy chill in his wake that makes Kirishima sigh.

“He means to say thank you, it’s… been a lot for him. We really did think you’d die on us back there, and I think Bakugou didn’t want another death on his conscience that wasn’t done by his own hand.”

Kirishima stands to his full height when you do, both his hands buried into the pockets of his jacket. “Anyway, let’s just go back home, yeah? You probably want to shower.”

“Tellin’ me I smell, Kirishima? You don’t smell of roses yourself big guy.” You grin when he smiles at you, the banter between the two of you is easy. His shoulders sag with relief before he’s strutting out of the room before you.

“Nah, not roses. Just pure manliness.”

“Manliness smells like a Maelstrom cesspit?” Kirishima whirls on you with his mouth agape, a chuckle leaving his mouth.

The city opens up to both of you when you step out of the doors, the difference this time being it’s the middle of the day and the streets are bustling with people going to and fro with their plans for the day. You take a deep breath in, Kirishima still rattling on just next to you about how Maelstrom actually doesn’t smell that bad. You break into an easy smile, a genuine laugh leaving your mouth for the first time in a long time.

A tingle runs up and down your spine, the shard slot on your neck buzzing as if someone was tugging on it, you look in the opposite direction of Kirishima to see if perhaps there was a nearby jammer or Netrunner who tripped on your own network.

But instead, you’re faced with something that makes it feel like you’ve been submerged beneath icy waters, your bones rigid and muscles tightened.

Standing idle amongst the moving crowd is a large man, with broad shoulders but that isn’t what makes him stick out like a sore thumb. It’s not the corporate suit he’s wearing, but rather it’s the mop of green hair on his head accompanied by emerald eyes that are wide with mirth when you meet his gaze over the crowd. You can see his lips move, but it's like his voice is deep in the back of your brain.

‘Soon.’

Kirishima calls your name from your side, drawing your attention back to him for a split second before you glance back towards the crowd. The man was gone. “All good? Do you need more blockers?”

“Huh?” You blink up at him, blockers? Oh. Meds that rippers always pumped you full with whenever you had any amount of cyberware. When was the last time you had taken some anyway? “No, uh, I’m fine, thank you. Think I just need a real sleep.”

“You just woke up from like a month-long nap, you’re telling me you’re still tired?” He grins down at you, guiding you back down the familiar street.

“Yeah, I guess so.”

The door to the apartment slides open with a hiss, revealing the dim lights of the amber overhead lights. Bakugou was home. Kirishima steps in first, shedding the thick jacket he had on to toss it onto one of the hooks. You followed after him easily enough, it hadn’t felt like so much time had passed but looking around the apartment you could see it.

Things had been moved, the plant on the window ledge had blossomed and grown beautiful red leaves. Stepping further into the apartment, you watch Kirishima disappear behind a black glass door that slides open for a split second to reveal Bakugou who was hunched over what looked like one of his rifles before the door slid shut.

You had been forbidden to enter the armoury, it was for Bakugou and Kirishima only. Bakugou had come with that rule, you couldn’t blame him but it wasn’t as if you needed their weapons. The thought of the gun embedded in your arm makes it ache, a tingling sensation that numbs your fingertips momentarily. Sitting down on the couch, you let out a sigh of relief when your muscles finally decompress and relax.

Despite your body relaxing your mind was still running far too fast, too many thoughts bouncing back and forth—you suppose it’s from the fact you were connected to the Net with no blockers, all that information could fry someone's brain and you’re just glad it hadn’t happened to you.

The peace and quiet doesn’t last long however, soon enough the entrance door opens with a whoosh and you turn in time to see a multitude of people walk in. You recognise two by name; Aizawa and Shinsou. You recognise both men with yellow hair and black hair, but there’s a woman with them that you haven’t met before with short dark purple hair.

“What the fuck are you all doin’ in my fucking house?” Bakugou growls from near the armoury, arms crossing over his chest.

“You didn’t think we’d let you walk away with the coolest new member of the gang, right?” The one with yellow hair flops into the seat next to you, long gone is the fear he had shown just earlier that day.

He grins at you when you stare at him, “Denki Kaminari, but you can call me whatever you want.” Kaminari offers with an easy smile, earning him a snort from the black-haired man who smacks him on the back of the head.

“Ignore him. Name’s Sero, it’s nice to meet you without a gun pointed in my face.” You shake his hand when he offers it to you, still wordless at how they’re effortlessly welcoming you into their gang.

“Don’t fucking ignore me!” Bakugou finally yells, but no one flinches at the volume of his voice. “What the fuck are you all doing in my house?!”

“New job.” Aizawa supplies, and immediately the room plummets into silence. “I know it’s only been hours since you woke up, but we really could use your help on this next one.”

Bakugou moves to open his mouth, but Shinsou jumps in. “You’re the only one here who can disappear from someone's optical enhancements. Do you know how rare that is? We wouldn’t be asking you to do this if we didn’t think you’d be able to pull it off without any problems.”

Aizawa continues, “You won’t be doing it alone of course. The whole crew will be going, but you will be the key player in this job, you’ll have to be the one to go in first.”

“When?” is the first thing you ask, and all eyes shift to you.

“In three days. Ideally, we would’ve done it sooner but I figured you might want to rest first. From what I hear, you had quite the trip on the Net.”

Aizawa notices the way your eyebrows furrow, “Shinsou was in there with you, but it was Jirou–” He points over his shoulder at the girl, who raises a hand for a moment. “–who broke through your defences. Apparently, there was some resistance from an outside source. Got anyone who'd be interested in protecting the data in your head?”

You shake your head, the only outside source may have been the man with green hair but even then you weren’t sure if he was real or not. You hadn’t been on blockers, you had been using your chrome carelessly. It could just be exhaustion.

Aizawa just nods his head, turning his attention to both Kirishima and Bakugou before gesturing with his head for them to come to talk to him privately. Kaminari and Sero both dive instantly at the chance to talk to you, gushing over the cyberware you were sporting. Apparently, they had never met someone who lived to tell the tale after having so much changed.

Aizawa sighs when he’s away from the group, slumping against the wall whilst Bakugou and Kirishima stand before him. Kirishima looks tense, and Bakugou is… well, Bakugou.

“You remember the original job?” Both men nod. “The package you were ordered to retrieve is Arasaka’s countermeasure to the new power Militech has come into. Jirou had a look at it and apparently, it’s some sort of advanced AI that can short-circuit everyone in its vicinity and even cause people to spiral into Cyberpsychosis.”

“What the fuck?” Kirishima murmurs, keeping his voice down so as to not alert the others.

“What’ve you done with it?” Bakugou asks, not missing the wince on Aizawa’s face.

“Handed it back to them.” Bakugou’s frown deepens, lip curling to reveal gums and canines but Aizawa jumps back in. “I didn’t have a choice, Bakugou. It was tracked, after you left with the girl they sent some jacked-up chrome head to come and pick it up.”

Bakugou runs a hand through his hair, gripping at the roots. This was bad. Arasaka were pieces of shit when it came to cyberware and if they were going to hit Militech with this then another corporate war would definitely be on the cards. “Shit, fuck. You sure it was an Arasaka guy that came to pick it up, not someone working for D—?”

“No, if I picked up on his chip, I would’ve put a bullet between his eyes myself.”

“Not if I do it first.” Bakugou snarls, earning a nod of approval from Kirishima. “Fucker already ruined our lives enough, we don't need him to get his hands on something that could kill us all.”

“You think they know about her?” Kirishima prompts after a beat of silence, all three men turn their attention to watch you on the couch. You were still static, Kaminari arguing with Sero about something whilst Jirou and Shinsou teased Kaminari about whatever it was. You looked out of place but at the same time, it felt as if you were always meant to be amongst the crew. You smiled easily, even laughing along with the group.

“I don’t doubt it. Jirou said the outside source that was blocking her from hacking into the system was military grade. She has something important to someone very wealthy. With this next job, stick close to her. If Arasaka makes a move, they’ll be trying to take her out first. If Militech makes a move…”

Aizawa shares a look with Bakugou before the blonde nods in understanding. “Good. Good luck on this next one, you’re going to need it when working with those idiots.”

Both men watch Aizawa leave before joining the rest of the gang on the couch, Bakugou sinks into a spot opposite of you and Kirishima slumps himself not too far from everyone, his legs spreading as he fully reclines into the seat. All attention is still on you, and Bakugou can’t help but keep his eyes locked on you.

“We should celebrate!” Kaminari grins, practically bouncing in his seat at the prospect.

“Celebrate what?” Kirishima is the one brave enough to take on Kaminari, effortlessly shifting the attention away from you momentarily.

“The newest member, obviously! I think we should show her a good time.” There’s a series of groans, a squawk of indignation from Kaminari whilst Sero berates him for always making everything an innuendo. Yet Bakugou can’t find it within himself to fight the decision, his eyes watch the way your eyebrows lift in interest before a smile brightens your features.

Maybe he’ll go along with it, just this one.

...

Part of him wishes he had fought Kaminari on some part of it. It was no surprise that the bar hopping eventually led them to visit Jig-Jig Street. It wasn’t the nicest place to be, it was the rundown part of Japantown that people often went to when they were desperate enough to get their dick wet.

Jig-Jig Street was the red light district of Night City, where you could ‘buy love’ by the hour or even get in contact with dealers who would sell you the most exotic of drugs or enhancements that would cost you a pretty penny. It was dangerous too, something that Bakugou often argued about whenever the others tried to drag him here. Too many times he had come home with a nasty black eye or even in the back of a police car from the fights that broke out here.

The crude flashing neon signs had Bakugou hunching in on himself, practically snarling at Denki who dared to poke fun at the gigantic blonde. Thankfully, it’s Kirishima who once again saves the day by shooing Kaminari away with the rest of the gang before he draws Bakugou in by his shoulder.

Bakugou just grunts, crossing his arms over the broadness of his chest before his eyes drift towards the redhead who’s now staring down at him.

“What?” Bakugou barks, modified canines adding to the visage of him being a feral dog.

Kirishima just laughs, “Loosen up man, let Denks have his fun. I have a feeling this next job is going to be a hefty one.”

Bakugou shakes his head, squaring his jaw whilst he mulls over Kirishima’s words. He supposes Kirishima isn’t exactly wrong; this next job feels like there’s a heavy weight resting on them. An expectation of something; something that Bakugou hasn’t quite figured out yet.

His eyes drift over towards you, embedded right in the middle of their little group. You still were a little bit stiff, eyes blinking owlishly whenever Kaminari came on a little too strong—but the alcohol had helped you loosen him, he thinks, you seem to smile a lot more now.

“Whatever, get the fuck off me.” Bakugou snips, shoving Kirishima’s hand off of him and Kirishima knows not to take it to heart. Instead, he steps aside, watching his oldest friend stalk away into the crowd to god knows where.

Bakugou wades through the crowds, dodging the half-naked bodies and the people high out of their minds who attempt to grab at him for his attention. He hated this part of town, it was the worst part of Night City – besides the gang wars and other shit the corpos got up to.

But this was a display of the depravity of the city, a show of just how long people would sink to feel something in this shithole of a city.

Finally, Bakugou breaks out of the crowd into the open street. It was empty, given that it was nearing three in the morning. He lifts his head to stare at the sky, the overcast clouds enough to make him grumpier. The rain always fucked with his chrome, the cold chill that came with it would send it haywire.

Glancing back, he can’t see the group he came with anymore and something in him itches to find you and make sure you didn’t get into any trouble that naturally comes with both Sero and Kaminari.

“Running away?” A voice comes from his side, and it takes the years of experience that comes with being a hired gun to not jump out of his skin. His head snaps down, and a shiver rolls down his spine when he meets your gaze.

“Yeah,” he admits, surprisingly, “Can’t fuckin’ stand this place. And you should split when you can too, you’ll end up getting roped into a threesome or some shit.”

That makes you purse your lips in an attempt to smother laughter before the corner of your lips threatens to break into a smile, there’s an easy air around you. You seem more relaxed, most definitely because of the drinks you had been throwing back when Kirishima challenged you.

“Nah, Kirishima let me leave.” Bakugou arches an eyebrow at that, Kirishima had known you were leaving too? That motherfucker. He knew you’d come following after him, like a moth to a flame. “Figured it’d be safer to walk home with you than try and navigate my way out of here.”

That has Bakugou nodding in agreement, the fuzziness of tonight's drinks softens his need to put his guard up around you. “C’mon, it’s about to piss down and I’m not getting caught in it.”

He’s already walking away, and it doesn’t take long for you to match his stride. Your own hands are buried in the pockets of the orange jacket Kirishima had given you all that time ago – did you know it was his? He bought it with one of his first paychecks, it was in one of his favourite shades of orange but somehow it looked much better on you.

His eyes drift away from the jacket you’re wearing and up to your face, you’re eyeing the signs as you walk by. They’re a range of ads for braindances that plunge you into a full-blown porno and ads for physical enhancements for stamina. It’s no surprise that everything in this part of town was about sex, Japantown practically ran off of it.

But his eyes catch on your bottom lip, how you worry it over with your teeth and squint a little like you’re not really reading everything that goes by.

“Somethin’ on your mind?”

“Huh?” You look up at him finally, and it makes Bakugou’s chest flutter with something unknown. It takes everything in him to push it down, chalking it to the previous train of thought about advertisements.

“What you worrying about? Yer gonna chew through your fuckin’ lip if you keep overthinking whatever it is.”

The way your eyebrows draw together and your face nearly crumples makes him want to backtrack, but instead you wipe your face of whatever emotion you had just felt.

“It’s hard to explain. More of a feeling than anything.”

Something Bakugou isn’t good with, he’s not one to talk about his feelings or whatever the fuck is plaguing his mind. “Just spit it out.”

You follow him up the steps to the large apartment building, and yet you remain silent as you try to mull over the words you want to say. Bakugou expects you to just ignore his request, and he doesn’t blame you. He’d never talk about his feelings even if someone held a gun to his head.

Once inside the apartment, he watches as you sidestep around him to go and stand before the large window. Pressing a button to let the metal shutters roll upwards in quick succession until the district of Japantown is exposed to you. It’s a sea of neon lights, people ebbing and flowing like water as they move around each other without ever looking away from the devices in their hands or implanted in their minds.

“Can I show you?” You speak finally, once he shucks off his jacket and flings it onto the back of the sofa. He eyes you for a moment, show him? Show him what, your feelings? His nose crinkles in thought, but he finds himself relenting. The liquid courage he drank earlier makes itself known when he relaxes on the sofa.

“Sure,” and you’re turning to look at him as if you expected him to shout at you or worse. But you don’t comment about it, scared to lose your chance so you move over to him. Settling into the seat next to him he can’t help but notice you don’t budge him at all, your own weight nothing compared to his own — had you always been this tiny?

“You gonna kiss me or some shit?” He blurts when you turn to face him, your knee pressed into his thigh and he tries to not think about the bareness of your legs. You snort, however, shaking your head.

“No, nothing like that.” And you’re reaching for him despite that, his body grows rigid beneath your touch. Your fingers are gentle as they stroke along the smoothness of his neck before they card up through the short hairs of his undercut at the nape of his neck. You’re so close he can see the intricate thin strips of metal that help with your enhanced eyesight.

He doesn’t find himself moving away, but rather leaning into the gentleness of the touch.

“Hold still,” is all you supply before he feels something slip against the back of his neck, the plating shifting and moving until his body involuntarily jolts. Everything in his body yells at him to move, to stop you from doing whatever the fuck you’re doing but it’s too late. The connection is made and he’s plummeted into darkness.

There’s a blinding light and he blinks it away, only to find himself submerged in what must be the depths of your consciousness. It’s similar to what he’d seen in his short dips into cyberspace when the time called for it, but this is different. He’s standing in the middle of nowhere, screens and flicking images dash around him.

Memories, he realises. Your memories from the moment you woke up and up until the very moment you sat down with him, but it’s not the memories you’re showing. Rather it’s the emotions connected to them, it’s bombarding his senses. He feels the tug at his heart, the fear that races up his spine when you first woke up in an unknown place and then the blissfulness you had felt when he took a bullet for him.

How could you feel at peace when you were going to die? It was too much for him to wrap his mind around, and quickly the emotion was changing. There was a sadness that weighed down on his body this time like his body was being pulled into icy waters when he heard the words he spat at you when you first woke up.

You felt sad? Bakugou didn’t know, it made his heart ache something fierce. He didn’t want you to feel sad because of him – fuck, he just wanted you to know how much it bothered him for you to dive in front of him like that. He wanted you to know just how much time he spent in that shitty docs office, watching your near-lifeless body repair itself before his very eyes.

But he couldn’t tell you that, he couldn’t tell you that Kirishima often was the one to wake him up from his slump across your lap in the mornings when he fell asleep hoping you’d just wake the fuck up and explain yourself.

Another jump in emotions, and he feels happiness – acceptance. You’re sitting among all his friends, and even with him in the picture, you feel like you found a place. Something in the memory makes his eyebrows raise, you glance at him and that feeling spikes. It feels like a thunderous amount of butterflies flutter in his stomach, rising up until they bombard his heart.

He hadn’t even known you were looking at him like that. Yet beneath all that, he could feel the melancholy that came with your circumstance. You don’t feel like you belong, or perhaps it was the reality of your previous life's existence that weighs heavily on you. You had unresolved business, and that’s something Bakugou can relate to fully.

The next time he blinks, he feels the pressure of your forehead against his own. The slipping of the cord from his plating and how your fingers curl a little more into the longer hair further up the back of his head.

“Do you get it now?” You’re the first to break the tension, your question but a whisper above the whirring of the fan above your heads.

And he thinks he does, that feeling that you couldn’t quite describe. You were content yet you were lost, you were happy yet you had a longing for something. You felt something towards him that was so indescribable it made his heart flutter. So he just nods, his own forehead pressing a little harder against yours to get it across that he truly does get it.

His hand cups your jaw, thumb rolling across the fullness of your cheek before it presses into the flesh just a little. Your breath smells sweet; faintly reminding him of the drinks the both of you had earlier in the night. He doesn’t suspect you’re drunk, he definitely isn’t but that soft buzz keeps him from thinking too much.

“It’s so confusing.” You admit, the word is just a breath against his lips and he finds himself wanting to swallow it. “I don’t want to think.”

That’s enough of a sign for him to make a move, his stomach churns with anxious excitement when he leans in. His lips finally press to yours in a tentative touch, your lips are warm and just as soft as they look. It draws him further, and further until his lips are moving against your own in a fluid movement.

You don’t fight him when his hand slips to the back of your neck, pulling you into position so you can’t escape when he pries your mouth open with his tongue. The sweetness is stronger on your tongue, tangy with alcohol yet intoxicatingly enjoyable when he explores you like he might never get the chance again.

It’s like everything explodes at that point, Bakugou grows insatiable; he needs to taste you. He needs to know you inside and out, this hunger pooling low in his stomach and burning a river of fire down to his groin. It makes him groan into the kiss when you offer a reprieve for a quick breath, he nips and bites at your bottom lip to see if he can pull any noises from you.

And he delights in it when he can, your moans are so foreign to him yet it’s a heady feeling. It has him tugging at you until you’re situated over the tops of his thighs, and in a fluid motion, he’s standing. His hands cupped under your ass, squeezing and massaging the flesh that he’s never had the chance to feel before.

It takes him no time at all to cross the space from the living room to his bedroom, the door sliding open and closed with a hiss before the automatic locks click into place. He tosses you from his grip onto the plushness of his bed, the sheets still rumpled from the morning when he didn’t bother to make it.

Bakugou looms over you like a predator, his chest rising and falling with quick breaths – you’re no better than he is, your lips are swollen and wet from his ministrations. Your heavy breathing only accentuates your breasts, drawing his attention down to them to see the rise and fall of your chest. His fingers move automatically, tucking underneath his shirt to tug it over his head.

It’s flung off into some unknown direction, and when he looks up you’re leaning up. Your fingers skate along the sharp edges of his muscles, pressing into the places where the fat resides. Then you trace along scars that are white and some that are pink; you’re transfixed on him. It makes him preen under your gaze, and in your momentary distraction, he undoes the belt on his jeans before they’re pushed down too.

The smile you give him makes his heart pitter-patter in his chest, you’re smiling up at him as if he’s the world to you. But the rational still-sober part of his mind insists that it’s just for the sex – he’s just a one-night stand to you and the feeling is mutual. Right? That is what Bakugou wants out of this, right? The tension in his stomach is unnerving, something akin to nausea at the idea of letting this not blossom into something more.

But he doesn’t get to ruminate on it further, your fingers drift downwards along the deep V on his hips until you’re at the top of his boxers. Automatically his fingers stroke up along your jaw, across your cheek until he’s hooking his fingers to the back of your head when you start to lean in closer.

The feeling of your lips against the hard outline of his cock makes him jolt and melt at the same time, the rumbling moan is deep in his chest. How long had it been since he was last with someone? Fuck, he doesn’t even know but he can’t focus when the tip of your tongue slowly drags up along the thick vein on the underside of his cock.

He must jolt too harshly because you laugh a little to yourself before you take pity on him. Bakugou wants to snap at you, shut you up for even daring to laugh at him but the words die on his tongue the second he even thinks of them. Your hands are undeniably soft when you wrap your hand around his hardness.

There’s a small crease between your eyebrows, an indication of either your concentration or perhaps your trepidation for what’s to come.

“Lie back,” he offers instead, your eyes drifting back up to meet his and you slip free from the hand hooked on the back of your head, the loss of your softness around his length leaves a longing that lingers in the depths of his stomach. This time he takes the time to undress you, sliding you free of the dress Mina had managed to wrangle you into.

It looked far too good on you, something he wouldn’t admit at the start of the night but his inhibitions continue to slip. “Look at you, so beautiful.”

His fingers skim up along the now bare expanse of your hips, brushing past your panties line and mapping their way up your sides. You’re just as scarred as he is, but yours are so different from his. He can see the almost invisible lines where someone has taken a scalpel to you and modified your body. Did you even know who did it?

He swallows the lump down in his throat, forcing his attention up to your breasts once his hands brush along the sides. His thumbs roll up over your nipples beneath your bra, the pebbled skin hard enough–sensitive enough to earn him a shiver of delight. The smile that brightens up his face is nothing short of sinful, it shows the modified canines and displays all his carnal desires without him having to even utter a word.

You lift your body up when he demands it, letting him slip you free of your underwear until you’re as bare as he is. And Holy fuck, you’re fucking gorgeous. His eyes leave no part of you unseen, his gaze roaming over you until you’re practically squirming.

“Please.” You whisper, gasping when his fingers finally find a home in the width of your hips. “Stop staring and do something.”

That has an eyebrow rising in your direction. “Oh? Someone’s demanding when she wants something. You want me to hurry up and fuck you until you’re too dumb to remember your own name?”

“You’re too much.” You all but whine, and he imagines he’d be able to feel the heat in your cheeks if he were to lean in closer.

“You have no idea.” Bakugou grins, a sultry smile that has your hips bucking beneath his iron grip and he’s swooping down.

Lips pressing into yours in a much more hurried fashion compared to earlier; it’s a hunger that can only serve to work someone up until the point of completion. It has his tongue rolling into your mouth, brushing against the back of your teeth and trying to hear you choke on him when he’s bearing his weight down on you.

He’s positively devouring you, and his hands work to spread your legs wide for him on either side of the thickness of his own thighs. Then his fingers make their way down between your legs, brushing against the crease between where your thighs bend. You’re whining, moaning and biting back just as hard when he dares to bite your bottom lip.

He wants to fucking ruin you.

Bakugou draws his head back just enough to peer down at you, the light filtering in through the half-shuttered window highlights parts of you that are otherwise shrouded in the darkness. It illuminates the harsh rise and fall in your lungs, the way your nipples are pebbled in the cool air and the slight glisten on your inner thighs.

Finally, he indulges you. His fingers press between your folds to slide against your clit before they slowly venture downwards. His middle and ring fingers circle against your entrance teasingly slow, his lips parting to breathe in your whines for more.

His eyebrows crumple with your own when you moan at the intrusion of his thick fingers, his head is swimming with how intoxicating it is to be above you like this. To have this level of power over someone who could definitely kill him before he could blink.

The stretch is easy enough with how wet you got so quickly for him, and he groans all low and rumbling in his chest at just how tight you are. You’re so soft and velvety inside, your walls clenching rhythmically with your deep inhales.

For a moment, he just holds his fingers deep inside of you completely still. Relishing in the way you try to shift your hips beneath him despite how he’s pinning you down beneath the weight of his own body. It’s such a stark difference to the nervous wreck he’s seen you as, and so fucking better than the cold-blooded killer he knew you were deep down.

“Fuckin’ look at you.” He whispers into the heated air between the sparse gap between you two, his eyes half-lidded as they meet your own. You’re trying your hardest to glare at him, but you can’t quite fight the euphoric feeling of him curling his fingers just a little to shut you down.

“Who knew all it took to get you nice and compliant was to stuff you full with my fingers?” His tone is a little mean, a little condescending. The tears don’t come for you however, but he can see you slowly dropping into the headspace he wants you to be in.

“Please,” you beg—a plea, a sweet melody that Bakugou thinks he wants to listen to for the rest of his life. But this was just a one-night stand, right?

“Tell me what you want.”

“Just–... Move already, please.” He grins wide at the whimper at the end of your words. A small part of him wants to draw this out, make you suffer just a little but the rational voice in his mind tells him he’ll only get more out of you if he obliges.

So he does. His fingers crook upwards, brushing against the spongy spot that no one but he could reach with the length of his fingers. The reaction is immediate, you moan so sweetly that it has his own eyes threatening to flutter and roll into the back of his head.

You’re practically gushing around his fingers as he fucks them into you, repeatedly crooking his fingers in an attempt to see how quickly he could make you crumble beneath the palm of his hand. Your thighs tense up, squeezing around his own when you try to close your legs to stop the onslaught of his fingers.

Bakugou noses into your cheek when you tilt your head back, your lips parted as you try to breathe in. But he doesn’t give you the chance, he pushes you further into the bed with his weight, shifting his body up just slightly so your hips are forced to bend with him – then suddenly he’s fucking his fingers into you impossibly deeper.

His lips hover just next to your temple, panting heavily against you. It’s a task and a half to stop himself from painting the inside of his boxers that he’s still yet to remove. But he’s a man on a mission, and that mission is to make you cum on his fingers.

He doesn’t stop when he feels your hand clamp down around his forearm, the strength there is enough to stop a moving truck—except you’re distracted, lost in the pleasure that races up and down your spine until it settles in the back of your mind. You’re too lost in your own head to be embarrassed about the sloppy sounds between your thighs, his fingers forcing more and more juices from you until he’s certain his bed will be soaked through.

As much as Bakugou wants to watch your pussy take his fingers so well, he can’t move his gaze away from your face. You look like something they used to paint in cathedrals, an angel. Your head is thrown back into his pillows, eyes scrunched closed and mouth open to let your moans spill free. The light from outside bathes you in neon colours, catching on the metallic strips of your chrome.

Even if it is just a one-night stand, Bakugou doesn’t think he’ll be able to forget the image of you in the throes of pleasure.

Especially not when you finally do reach your climax for him. Your hand at his wrist tightens immediately, your thighs lock up with a tension that would worry him if he wasn’t aware of the intricate materials that you were composed of. Your chest stutters, and your mouth opens wider until he’s gifted with the most beautiful sound he’s ever heard; a series of moans that grow breathier with each pass of his fingers.

“‘S too much.” You protest weakly, the hand that was wrapped around his wrist pushes in an attempt to free your swollen pussy from his long fingers. But he doesn’t pull out yet, only slowing down the roll of his wrist until finally he pulls free. Your entire body relaxes finally, muscles growing lax from where they’re wrapped around his waist.

“It only takes one time and you’re done?” Bakugou questions with a teasing arch of his eyebrow, watching in amusement when your head rolls slightly to glare at him. It’s a hardly-there glare but you still give it to him regardless, it makes him grin down at you. “Nah, you’re not done.”

You’re like putty in his hands with how easily he manoeuvres your body around, tucking both of your legs together before twisting your lower half to the side. A large arm keeps your legs held up and off to the side, whilst his unoccupied hand strokes along the rigid length of his cock. It aches, pearled with pre-cum from just watching you cream all over his hand.

He levels the tip of his drooling cock to your entrance, easily finding the hole that was previously spread so wide around just two of his fingers. The warmth is intoxicating, flooding his senses and clouding his mind. He doesn’t even notice you moving just slightly to slide a hand down over your hip to feel the length of his cock disappearing deeper and deeper inside of you.

The groan Bakugou lets out once his hips fall flush against your own is sinful enough to have you clenching around him, turning that beautiful groan into a hiss through clenched teeth. He snaps his gaze up to you, only to see your own gaze heedy with lust and half-lidded. He can feel every single inch of your velveteen walls, can feel the way you’re still panting and clenching around his cock.

He thinks he could die here, quite happily might he add.

A large hand comes down to your ass, shifting the flesh just enough so he can flit his eyes downwards and see the sticky mess that’s already tacking his pubic hair. That same hand comes back down again to level your ass with a firm spank, and it has you squeezing around him tight enough to stop him from rolling his hips back to start fucking you.

It’s enough to make him forget he’s fucking you raw.

“Squeezin’ me so fuckin’ hard. You like it that much, hm?” Bakugou goads with a bite to his bottom lip when he feels you pulse at the tone he takes with you. With enough willpower, he rolls his hips backwards just enough to pull himself out halfway before fucking his cock back into you. “Tell me how much you like it.”

His stomach tenses when you brush the pads of your fingers against the tensed muscles there, his eyes drift away from where he was connected to you, along your arm until he finds your face. You’re looking him in the eye, eyelids heavy and lips parted when you moan low at the feeling of him rolling his hips smoothly once again.

“Say it,” Bakugou bares his teeth at you, the modified fangs in his mouth gleaming with the passing lights through the window.

“Bak—”

He moves before he can even think, faster than you can react. His hand engulfs the entirety of your lower face, thick fingers digging into the flesh of your cheeks until he can feel the solid metal that was buried in your very muscles. Your eyes are wide, more alert but you don’t fight him surprisingly. Bakugou hunches his body over your own until his forehead connects with yours, forcing you to look directly into his eyes.

The angle he’s at now has your eyebrows crumpling together, mouth opening in a wordless moan—he’s so fucking deep that he’s pretty certain he’s pressed right against your cervix.

“No, use my fuckin’ name.” He growls in your face, hissing his words through clenched teeth. You’re clenching around him so tightly that his head feels like it’s filled with nanites, infiltrating his brain until all he can think about is you, you, you.

A harsh thrust of his hips has you gasping, he can see you fighting the urge to let your eyes roll back and eyelashes flutter closed to bask fully in the pleasure. But you keep his gaze, sturdy and unyielding.

“Katsuki.”

He’s never heard his given name on your tongue before, so breathy and sweet that it has his pace faltering for a split second. His name sounded perfect when you said it like that, as if your very vocal cords were crafted just to moan his name like that—like an angel. Bakugou gives in to the urge to moan in return, jaw falling slack.

Your hand is delicate around his wrist, guiding him to free you from the grip he still had on your jaw to slide it downwards until he finds your throat. His fingers latch around it naturally, digging in just enough to have you gasping against his open and waiting mouth but not enough to hurt you. He can see that you enjoy it—can feel it in the way your pussy drools for him more.

The second his hand locks around your throat, everything empties from his mind. His hips move as if they were designed to fuck you, to feel your skin slap against his and to have your entire body jump with each harsh rut. Your moans vibrate against his palm, a shiver working its way down his spine whenever your moans grow louder, more desperate when he shifts his weight just enough to bully the tip of his cock against your cervix.

The hand around his wrist tightens, the tips of your nails digging into his flesh. It makes him hiss in pain, gritting his teeth to fuck you harder. His entire body glistens with sweat, dripping down along his hairline where strands of his ash blonde hair stick to his dewy skin. It pools in the hollow of his throat and builds along his biceps, which flex and bulge with the effort of keeping up his position hunched over you.

“G’nna—” You gasp, his hand instinctively closing around your throat before relaxing. “‘M g’nna cum.”

And fuck, if he thought you whispering his given name was hot then he’s not sure where that ranks. He’s not sure why he’s never considered just how hot it would be for you to admit you were close to orgasm, to inform him that he’s doing such a good job at fucking you that you’re about to cum.

“Yeah?” He huffs in the effort of his pace, suddenly rearing back and releasing your throat in favour of shifting your position. He throws your legs over his shoulders, large hands grasping at your hips to pull you to the edge of the bed properly. “Then cum.”

With his hands lower down on your body, Bakugou’s able to free one hand from grasping at the meat of your thigh to let his thumb roll over your clit with enough pressure to have your knees turning inwards and back arching off of the bed. The moan that comes you from is angelic, a sound that has his stomach twisting in anticipation and the need to cum—but not yet, he’s going to fuck you as much as he can before he reaches his end.

He can feel you clamping down on him, squeezing the ever-loving fuck out of him to the point where his hips are forced to take shallow thrusts. But his hand doesn’t give up on your clit; he switches to his fingers to pinch and cruelly swipe at your swollen clit. Your toes curl against the back of his head, and Bakugou finds himself leaning into the feeling—needing to feel every single part of you whilst your pleasure crests.

And when you do cum, Bakugou can’t help but groan alongside you.

“Fuuu—... That’s it, good girl.” His tone is a little breathy, his chest rising and falling with the quick breaths he has to take to keep up the pace to fuck you through your orgasm and beyond that. His hand drops away from between your thighs, sliding up to grab at your waist before moving you up along the bed whilst situating himself on top.

He tugs your legs down from his shoulders, wrapping them tightly around his waist—you move easily for him, so pliant and willing to do anything for him after he made you cum on his cock. Your thighs mould easily around the thinner part of his waist, your ankles locking naturally.

His cock remains buried deep inside of you, still savouring the aftershock waves of pleasure that have your walls throbbing around him. Bakugou leans down into your space, with one elbow to the side of your head whilst the other latches itself onto the headboard. You meet his gaze, finally gaining back some clarity.

“Back with me?” He grins, sharp teeth on display when he looks down at you. He wonders if you find him intimidating like this, you’ve shown you were somewhat afraid of him in the past—never stepping on his toes, or overstepping when he ordered you to stay the fuck out of his way. Part of him doesn’t want you to be afraid of him anymore, he wants to make you smile more, laugh more, moan more—

A hand caresses itself along his cheek, drawing him out of his lust-ridden mind until he finds your eyes. Your thumb drags itself along the apple of his cheek, across the corner of his lips until you press your thumb against his lips. He’s not sure what’s enthralled him exactly, maybe it’s just the look in your eye—because you’re not looking up at him like you’re afraid, but rather you’re looking up at him with something scarily close to admiration.

Your thumb drops down from his lips and to his chin, and with the slightest of tugs you pull him down into your space. He collapses onto both of his elbows on either side of your head, his breath coming out in warm puffs against your face. He can smell you this close, a mixture of sweat and that sweet perfume Mina had bought for you.

Again, he doesn’t fight it when you pull him that final inch. Your lips are smooth against his own, so gentle and intoxicating. You kiss him like you want to savour this, savour him. And so he lets you, he lets you savour him just as he savours you in return. His mouth pries yours open easily enough, your tongue eager to meet his own in a smooth curl.

His hips begin to move on instinct, both of his thighs spread wide so he can thrust hard and deep. Your skin slaps against his, a wet sound that has the pit of pleasure in his stomach tightening and tightening with each passing second. His balls smack against the roundness of your ass, drawing up with the urge to spill deep inside of you—but he won’t, as much as he’d love to feel your walls milk him for all he’s worth.

You’re the one who breaks the kiss off, head falling back into his pillows whilst he props himself back up over the top of you. With a better view of your body, your tits that bounce with each rut of his hips, he finds himself standing right on the precipice of his climax. His thrusts grow faster, more erratic in their strength and depth—effortlessly fucking you through your next orgasm when you open your mouth in a silent scream.

“Fu-fuck, fuck,” Bakugou pants, his stomach clenches and his balls draw up tight. He pulls back suddenly from your space, away from the intoxicating heat that radiates off of your body to pull from your pussy entirely. His hand wraps around his cock and he fists it aggressively, thumb pressing against his head before he sucks in one deep breath, only to release it in a loud groan.

His cum comes in thick waves, drawing lines up along your stomach and up along your chest. You lay there, with your legs wide open and eyes half-lidded; watching him cum all over your body. Bakugou finds his hips still thrusting with each spurt from his cock, squeezing every last drop before tapping the sticky tip against your belly button where it had mostly gathered.

His entire body relaxes immediately, the weight of his responsibilities disappearing into nothing when he lets his mind bathe completely in that post-nut haze. You seem in the same mind, letting your legs droop at his waist and an arm coming to rest over your eyes, giving you a moment to catch your breath.

Slipping away from you, Bakugou doesn’t bother to pick up the clothes scattered around and instead beelines it for the bathroom attached to his bedroom. He pauses by the door leading out, he can’t hear any noise—hopefully, Kirishima was still out, if not then he’s going to be up Bakugou’s ass about fucking you.

Rummaging through a stack of towels, he finds a light and small one to wipe you down with. But as he’s about to re-enter the bedroom, he turns to see you’re standing up and looking around for your underwear.

“Where you runnin’ off to?” He gruffs, his own voice ruined from the session—he needs a drink of water, he makes a mental note.

You look up at him, quite like the image of a deer in headlights. “Uh, well—I just thought you’d want me to… go.”

Bakugou’s eyebrows furrow together before his eyes flit down to the ropes of cum still on your skin and he wants to ask if you planned on ruining your clothes with his cum. Instead, he shakes his head, stepping back into the dimly lit bedroom.

“Get back in bed, let me clean you up.” He watches as you stare at him for a second more, hesitating or debating on refusing his offer. But clearly your exhaustion wins out, because you turn with a drop of the dress in your hand and climb back in his bed, careful to not drip any of his cum on the sheets.

On the way past, he reaches down to a compartment in his wall to pull out two bottles of water. Placing them on the bedside table, he stands at the foot of the bed looking down at you. He can see you squirming under his gaze, the embarrassment starting to creep up on you but Bakugou can’t find it within himself to be embarrassed about the fact he was still completely naked. It felt good, with you.

You don’t squirm away when he wipes you clean, careful between your legs when he sees how puffy and swollen you look down there. But it still makes you flinch, a quiet gasp leaving your lips and it’s impossible to not smirk up at you before he drops the towel somewhere in the pile of abandoned clothes to be dealt with tomorrow.

Grabbing one water bottle, he offers it to you. “Drink up, and then actually get in bed. ‘M tired as fuck.”

He turns away when you take the bottle from him, still sporting that slightly bewildered look on your face as if you expected him to kick you to the streets—or rather, the sofa. Part of him does question why he’s letting you stay in his bed in the first place, but the idea of you going out to that shitty sofa after sex… it just doesn’t sit well in his chest.

He gives you the time to bury yourself beneath his sheets whilst he kicks the dirty clothes towards the far wall, next to the laundry basket before returning to you. You look tiny in his bed, made especially large to accommodate his height. You’re nearly lost beneath the thick sheets and mountain of pillows, it makes his lips curl into a playful smile before he crawls into bed with you.

You shift out of the way to let him lay down, the room dimming further until you were both plunged into darkness save for the passing lights through the slatted shutters on his window. He can still make you out in the dark, with his optics shut down and eyes naturally enhanced—he can see you’re looking at him over the top of the covers, debating on if you should still make a run for it.

“Fuckin’—...” He huffs a sigh, shifting under the sheets so quickly you don’t have the time to stop him. “Stop actin’ like I’m going to bite you or some shit.”

You curve into his muscle easily enough, moulding into the shape needed to be held close. His chin rests atop your head, thick arms looped around you. It’s odd—Bakugou wasn’t a hugger, definitely not a cuddler but having you in his arms, the smooth feeling of your softer skin beneath his and the warmth that comes from your very being is comforting.

His heart flutters in his chest when he can feel your arms slowly wrapping around him until you’re embracing him fully. You cling to him as if you were expecting him to rip you away at any given moment and ruin the moment. Has he really been that harsh to you? Sure, he’d been a bit of a dick when he first met you but you were choking out their only Ripper whilst holding a gun to their faces that’d eradicate them before they so much as blinked.

And sure, he had a tongue as sharp as a knife… fuck, maybe he was that harsh with you. He blames it lazily on the drink still in his system, despite the pestering fact in the very back of his mind that he worked most of it out of his system fucking you into his bed. It makes his head ache with the sudden rush of conflicting feelings, thoughts that clash over and over—

Forcing his eyes to shut and muscles to relax, he basks in the warmth of your much smaller body wrapped around his own and lets himself fall asleep.

You wake up feeling… warm. Not hot, nor cold. Comfortable too. The softness of the sheets around are some of the best you’ve felt in weeks, the blanket you’d been given to sleep with on the sofa was somewhat scratchy when you’d tuck it under your chin. This one is smoother, doesn’t catch on the thin intricate strips that are near-invisible to the naked eye that line your body.

There’s a weight across your body, a leg wedged between your own and a heavy arm draped over your waist. The warmth is coming from directly behind you, a solid press of muscle that breathes steadily against the back of your head. And if you glance just enough over your shoulder, you find a head of blonde hair that’s softened after a night of sleep.

Bakugou has himself plastered against you, completely. His face is buried into the back of your hair, and with him this close, all you can smell is him. His bed smells strongly of the aftershave he uses, and the man himself smells like your late-night activities—a musk that has your head in the clouds in remembrance.

You’ve never felt anything like that before. Not that you can remember, anyway. Bakugou treated you more than just someone he wanted to fuck, he didn’t toss you around or disregard the fact you had to cum too to enjoy yourself—he made sure you were on the same level as pleasure as he was, if not more. He kissed you like a lover would.

That last thought has your face heating, an odd feeling of butterflies fluttering up into your stomach until they settle in your lungs. It was ridiculous to have such a childish thought flit into your mind, Bakugou certainly wasn’t the type of man to settle down—his lifestyle didn’t fit with it.

You could tell just from the way he lived in his own home, he functioned to serve himself only—with the exception of Kirishima when he forgot breakfast. But outside of the walls of his apartment, his work lifestyle wasn’t fit for a partner in any sense of the word. He was a merc, mercs didn’t lock themselves down with someone because it was dangerous. Simple as.

Having a partner in Night City was the same as putting a target on your back. You became weak and vulnerable—something Bakugou would never let himself be. You knew that just from the weeks of living beside him.

“What’s got you thinkin’ so hard this early?” Bakugou’s voice is deeper, raspier in the mornings… and it’s impossible to not clamp down in longing that he was still buried inside of you.

He shifts behind you, one long deep breath in before he releases it. His muscles ease off of you when he breathes out, the weightlessness of sleep disappearing with each second. Instead, the arm that was slung over your waist grows bold in it’s movement. His large hand guides his fingers delicately over your skin, circling your belly button before meandering off until he finds your hip.

“Hm?” He nudges you with the tip of his nose, prompting you to glance over your shoulder at him. His eyes are smouldering, barely open and yet the red that stares back at you is bright. The long eyelashes you’ve never had the chance to see so clearly bat delicately against his cheekbones.

“Nothing, sorry for waking you.” You whisper back, and his eyes automatically drift down to watch the movement of your lips. The hand at your hip kneads softly at the flesh there before it moves lower, the tips of his fingers skirting up and down along your thigh. It’s enough to draw a harsh shiver up your spine, and in turn, causes Bakugou to let out a raspy chuckle.

“Yeah?” You pick up on the playful tone in his voice, a teasing grin growing on his face. “How ‘bout you make it up to me? Hm?”

You’re drawn to him biting on his bottom lip before his grin grows wider, watching you watch him—a back-and-forth dance to see who snaps first under the surmounting sexual tension in the room. The hand on your thigh slips down, hooking his fingers into your inner thigh to hoist your leg a little higher up on his hip. His cock is hot and hard where it presses between your thighs, the tip tapping against your clit.

Shifting himself up onto one elbow, partially hovering over you from behind, he finds your lips with his own. The kiss starts off softer than he kissed you last night, it’s not as hurried—not yet anyway. Bakugou kisses you like he wants to savour your flavour, to save the taste of you on his tongue. He tilts his head just slightly to delve in deeper, and then prying your mouth open with his.

His tongue is invasive, in the sense that he has to dive as deep as he can into your mouth. His tongue curls against the roof of your mouth, feels along the points of your teeth before he’s back to caressing your tongue with his own. The hand between your thighs spreads you lewdly beneath the blankets, a middle finger finding your clit before he strokes it down along your slit; wet and slippery for him.

Bakugou groans into your open mouth, before greedily going in again after the single breath he takes. This time the kiss is more energetic, more consuming. His cock twitches between your thighs, tapping against your thigh with its sticky tip. You can’t help but roll your hips back into him, push your ass out in invitation—

A loud bang in the living area has you both flinching, lips parting just enough for you to see the scowl starting to form on Bakugou’s face.

“Fuckin’ Ei. Just ignore ‘im.” His voice is harsh with desire, a low whisper that has your stomach tightening. Bakugou swoops back in, devouring your lips with more vigour, desperate to get what he wants now he knows that his roommate is awake—who knows when he’ll get a chance like this again.

He manoeuvres you on the bed, climbing over the top of you until you’re in a similar position as last night; your thighs at his waist and his hands pressed into the sheets on either side of your head. His cock bobs again between the two of you, smearing his pre along the smooth skin of your inner thigh. His lips part from yours once again, this time to chart a path down along your jaw and neck. He bites and kisses in tandem, sucking your skin until you can feel the bruises starting to blossom there.

Bakugou continues to consume you from the outside, pressing his hips down finally to relieve himself of the pressure building in his groin. He groans beautifully against your skin, a sound so intoxicating you can’t stop your eyes from rolling and your hands seeking purchase in his hair. It’s soft to the touch, and it doesn’t go unnoticed when you accidentally tug on it, his hips press harder against your own. Rutting his cock against your pussy.

“Shit, g’nna fuck you—”

“Yo, Bakugou!” The bedroom door opens with a loud hiss, and you can only squeak out in surprise when Bakugou all but presses you into the bed in an attempt to hide you. “I thought you said we had food in, and—... uh–...”

“Get the fuck out!” Bakugou snarls, reaching over to grab the closest thing to him on the bedside table. There’s a shift of his entire body, something flying through the air and the resounding plastic crunch of Kirishima being smacked by the poor water bottle that was launched.

“Sorry!” Kirishima back peddles it out of the room before Bakugou can scramble to find something else to throw, the door hissing to announce that he was well and truly out of the room.

The air is no longer thick with sexual tension, instead, there’s a lingering awkwardness that has Bakugou deflating on top of you. His face is buried into the crook of your neck, and you can feel the heavy sigh that’s pushed out of his body in acceptance that he won’t be fucking you again today.

“He’s such a fuckin’ idiot, can’t trust him to do shit on his own.” He grumbles against you, his lips so close you can feel each word forming on them. He leans up off of you, kneeling between your legs and you try your hardest to not grow embarrassed at your nakedness on display. He looks almost sad, defeated at the fact he knows he has to go deal with the red-haired giant that’s no doubt ripping apart his kitchen looking for food.

“Sorry,” he huffs, leaning down to leave a lingering kiss on your lips before he’s up and out of bed. “You can just sleep in here if you want. I know that eyebags said you need to rest after whatever the fuck happened so—just, rest here.”

You raise an eyebrow before realisation dawns on you; he means Shinsou. You smile at that, tucking the comforter back around you and burying yourself among the pillows. You watch as Bakugou blindly digs through his wardrobe, plucking out various clothes until he finds what he wants.

As if sensing your eyes, he glances over his bare shoulder at you with a wicked smirk on his face before bending down to draw his boxers up his legs. “The showers just in there, feel free to use whatever's in there.” He nods with his head in the direction of the bathroom.

“Okay, thank you.” You smile at him when he turns to look at you, he looks awfully handsome like this. Half dressed, a shirt in one hand and belt loose around his waist where he still has to button up his black cargo pants. He hovers for a second, fingers curling a little tighter around his shirt and you can see his jaw working to help him spit out the words he wants to say.

Except, he’s interrupted again by another bang—one that sounds suspiciously like the microwave door being broken. Bakugou groans in annoyance, running a hand through his hair before giving you one last glance just before he leaves the room.

You’re left in silence, the outside world still asleep despite the sun rising.

“You fucking idiot!” Bakugou yells, muffled but still loud enough that you feel like you’re in the room with him. The rest of the argument fades out into muffled voices, and soon sleep retakes you with the comforting smell of Bakugou still clouding your mind.

It isn’t until a handful of hours later that you emerge from the bedroom. It had quieted down soon after Bakugou had come out to confront Kirishima, and you managed to shower uninterrupted—you found clothes laid out on the bed for you, no doubt from Bakugou who must’ve heard the shower running at some point.

When the door hisses open, you’re met with the smell of beer and the voices of multiple people. People you’ve come to know as Shinsou, Sero and Kaminari. Of course, Bakugou and Kirishima are there too but the former is quiet as he watches the group yap about something he’s uninterested in.

“Nah, man. I’m telling you, she was looking at me.” Kaminari whines, earning him a snort of laughter from Shinsou and a shake of a head from Sero.

“You’re delusional, she’s a doll. They don’t see a thing.” Sero snickers when Kaminari pouts at that, leaning into Kirishima’s side who mockingly consoles him for thinking he had a chance with a doll.

The name is something that most people know, it was a way for people to get away with doing whatever they wanted to another person without the repercussions. Fuck a doll and they have their memory wiped by the end of it, confess murder and they’ll just smile at you. Dolls. You’d seen plenty of advertisements for it last night whilst visiting Jig-Jig Street, the idea of a chip like that existing made you feel sick.

A call of your name has your eyes blinking, snapping out of the trance and looking towards the source. Shinsou. Immediately Sero and Kaminari flinch in realisation that you were standing right behind them on the sofa, an unwanted reminder of when you had nearly blown them to pieces no more than 48 hours ago.

“How’re you feeling?” Shinsou asks, head tilting slightly.

“Fine, better than yesterday.” You smile back a little, eyes making their way automatically towards the ash blonde who sits with his knees apart on the opposite side of the sofa, an arm draped over the back of it and a beer can cradled in the hand on his thigh. “Still tired.”

“Even after you slept all day?” Kirishima asks next, and you make the mistake of glancing at him because he has a very knowing smug grin on his face. “Or maybe it was because you didn’t—”

“Oi, shut the fuck up.” Bakugou grunts before taking a sip of his drink, and you’re thankful for the intervention. You use the momentary distraction created by Bakugou to slip into a seat, finding the only place available between Bakugou and Shinsou—there’s a large enough gap that you know was reinforced by the blonde.

Bakugou only offers you a sideways glance when you settle into the seat next to him, you can feel him watching you; observing to see if you had any regrets from the previous night. But you have none, not a single one. You felt… happy. You didn’t have an overwhelming sense of dread sitting on your chest, instead you felt at ease. You relax into the plushness of the sofa, indirectly sinking into the spot where Bakugou had his arm slung over the back.

The conversation has already moved on, thankfully. All four of the men engaged in the conversation, with Bakugou drinking away at his beer whilst observing the group gathered.

“Do you remember that gig over in Watson?” Sero snorts, earning him a groan from Kirishima and a laugh from Kaminari. Sero flicks his gaze over to you, and you can see the mischief there when he realises he has an audience who haven’t heard the story.

“Hanta, don’t.” Kirishima whines, sinking into the seat with a large hand coming up to cover his face. You’ve never seen him quite like this; embarrassed. It was new, and you can’t help but smile at the idea of hearing something that would cause the giant of a man such emotions.

“But she hasn’t heard the story!” Sero exclaims, grinning from ear to ear as he leans forward to put his beer down on the coffee table. “Alright so, we had this gig over on the Northside, up in the Watson district. It was probably one of the easiest gigs to date, a simple in-and-out steal.”

You can feel Bakugou shift next to you, and out of the corner of your eye you can see him grinning over the lip of his beer can.

“Anyway. It was me, Denki and Ei.” He gestures to each of them in turn. “And for some reason, big Red here wanted to be the guy to do the stealth portion of the mission.”

“Don’t look at me like that, Uraraka just installed some new cyberware. She said I wouldn’t make a sound!” Kirishima huffs when you shoot him an incredulous look. A man who was over 6 ft 7 was definitely not suited for stealth work. If anything, you would’ve picked Sero—lanky, tall, light-footed.

“You’re about as heavy as a bull, you’re heavy footed as fuck Ei.” Bakugou goads, a grin on his face when Kirishima turns the glare his way.

Sero snickers, leaning his elbows on his knees. “We were meant to just steal this van, apparently it was Maelstrom property but we needed what was in it. All Kirishima had to do was sneak in, hotwire the van and get the fuck out of there. Instead, he trips every alarm known to man and has to hightail it out of there in a van with only two wheels.”

Bakugou offers a laugh, a genuine laugh at the memory of Kirishima returning to the hideout with a van hanging on for dear life.

“What about the time we had to eradicate that Daemon on the Net?” Kaminari snickers, which in turn has Shinsou turning his sights on him. “Shinsou popped a boner when his connection was flooded with those sex toy ads.”

“Shut the fuck up!” Shinsou growls, and you watch quietly when he lashes out at Kaminari who dares to laugh in his face. “I told you, the next time you tell someone that shit I’m—”

The conversation fades out slowly, your eyes focused on the spot in the centre of the coffee table. Daemons on the Net. Something about that sounds too familiar, would the man you saw in your own subconscious connected to the Net count as one of those daemons? Has someone injected you with something to cause a break in your cyberware?

You can still hear his voice, calling out your name. You could still feel the shards of glass he shattered in your mind, in your soul. They were lodged so snuggly against your vital organs, pressing yet waiting to be given the order to execute. That happiness you had felt just moments ago is washed away, replaced with the reminder that you were clueless as to who that man was—clueless to who you are.

A nudge to your foot has you blinking rapidly, glancing down to see Bakugou had knocked his foot against your own. You look at the man at your side, only to find his eyes already set on you. His hand is empty of the beer can he was drinking, and he’s staring at you like he was able to see your inner struggle.

“C’mon.” He grunts, standing up suddenly and you have no choice but to follow after him. You follow him towards the front door of the apartment, where he suddenly turns to you with the black and orange bomber jacket you’ve grown attached to. You don’t fight him when he throws it over your shoulders, holding the arms to help you with putting it on.

“Where you goin’?” Kirishima calls from the living area, all of the guys turning their heads to watch you adjusting the jacket on your body whilst Bakugou does the same with his own riding leather jacket.

“Out. Need more beers, figured I’ll take this one with me to save her from you guys being a bunch of freaks.” That earns him a number of groans and insults. “Shuddup, last time you were left with a girl alone, you all had to stiff leg it out of there.”

He doesn’t wait for the next round of insults hurled his way, instead, he pushes you out of the door first before letting it shut with an audible hiss behind him. You can still faintly hear them arguing through the door but Bakugou shows no issue with the fact he probably just left his own apartment to delve into chaos.

Bakugou leads you down the stairwell that leads to the garage, he holds the door open for you once you reach your destination and you’re met with a large parking lot. You’ve never been in here before, all the times you went out it was with Kirishima and he was adamant about walking around Night City instead of driving—he hated traffic just as much as the next person it seemed.

You follow behind Bakugou like a lost puppy, eyes darting from car to car. All of them ranging from heavily modified or straight-up pieces of junk that should be scrapped for a few Eurodollars. When he comes to a stop at the end of the garage, a light flicks on overhead to show the sleek black motorbike you saw when you had been first introduced to Aizawa.

Bakugou steps off to the side, rummaging around through a bio-coded locker which leaves you to investigate his motorbike a little more closely. It’s beautiful, obviously one of the pride and joys of the ash blonde. Your fingers ghost delicately along the smooth leather seat, it looks untouched—or rather, well-loved and cared for.

You tilt your head to look down along the expensive body, eyeing the fact there wasn’t even a single scratch on it. Just how well did he care for this bike? Your eyes spot what you’re looking for; Yaiba.

“It’s a modified Kusanagi CT-3X, if you’re wondering.” Bakugou finds himself next to you, one helmet perched atop his head and forcing the hairs down into his eyes, the other is under an arm.

“A rare Arasaka bike, right?” Bakugou nods at your words, an eyebrow arched as if he’s impressed you even knew that—to be fair, so are you. Your mind buzzes at the information you’re able to pull effortlessly from the bank of information sitting in your mind. “One of the fastest and most expensive bikes out there, how’d you get it?”

“Callin’ me cheap now?” He sneers but there’s no heat to it, he grins when you turn to look at him. He adjusts the helmet under his arm, holding it up to you so he can place it carefully over your head. “It was something I got with my first real paycheck, I always wanted one. Even as a kid when I lived in Tokyo, Yaiba had some of the best bikes out there and I just knew I wanted one.”

You smile up at him when he reveals just a slither of his past. So he wasn’t from here, it made sense. There was something about him that was never truly comfortable about being in Night City, no matter how long you live here—you’re never truly a part of the city as an outsider. Bakugou’s careful in pulling down the helmet, pressing a button on the inside before pushing down his own helmet.

“You hear me alright?” He questions, and you have to stop yourself from flinching at the voice in your ears. You nod at him, and you can hear him snicker quietly over the Bluetooth connection between the two helmets. “Alright, let’s get going before Ei comes and hunts us down.”

He slings a leg over the bike effortlessly, the entire thing bouncing on it’s suspension before he looks over at you through the small lifted gap of his visor. You hesitate for a moment, glancing from him to the seat behind him—if you can even call it that, there’s hardly any room and you’re going to be pressed up right against him. Why does that even matter when you were naked and under him this mor—

“Stop thinking and get the fuck on.” He grumbles, going as far as to reach over to grasp at your forearm to tug you forward. You have no choice but to clamber ontop of the bike behind him, your hands coming to loosely grab at the material of his leather jacket. Bakugou sighs heavily through the comms, using one hand to grasp at each of your hands individually to secure them snugly around his chest. “Hold on, this thing goes fast.”

The bike rumbles to life beneath you, Bakugou no doubt revving it on purpose to make you scoot closer to ensure you weren’t going to slip away when he put his foot down. You cling to him, your arms tucked tightly around his ribcage and head tilted so you’re not poking the front of your helmet into his back.

Soon enough, you’re out on the road, and you’re amazed by just how easily Bakugou moves the bike with his own weight. He makes it seem effortless when he weaves in and out of traffic, how he bends easily forward forcing you to move with him so that he can pick up speed. You can only watch the world blur past, streaks of rain hardly leaving a mark against your visor from just how quickly you’re going.

You cling to Bakugou, hands grasped tightly on his stomach. You can feel each of his muscles under his shirt, they tense and hardened when he rounds corners much too quickly. He sits back up from his leaned position, forcing you backwards and tilting your head to look over his shoulder. You can see from the speedometer that he’s way above the legal speed limit, hitting a solid 150mph.

The wind and rain batter against the exposed strips of skin on your body, and your hands sting like you’ve been pelted with a million little rocks but you can’t complain too much. The rush, the adrenaline, it’s something else. You feel weightless when Bakugou expertly rounds corners or when he picks up speed along a long stretch of road, weaving between cars that beep and no doubt scream at him for being such an idiot.

“Look to your right,” he speaks into the microphone that’s connected directly to your helmet, his voice sounds calm—at peace. This was his peace, his getaway. To speed his way through a city that could kill him in the next moment.

You do as he says, glancing to your right to see… you. It’s a clear reflection along some corporate building, you can see yourself attached to his back holding on for dear life. The city on the other side of you is bright, flickering and flashing despite the downpour of rain. You didn’t notice it when you were in the garage but Bakugou had modified his bike to light up, the inner trim of the wheels is set alight with bright neon orange lights.

In a moment of bravery, or perhaps stupidity. You let go. You can hear Bakugou over the comms shouting at you to grab ahold of him again but you feel free. Weightless. Truly weightless. You can’t hear that man's voice in your head anymore, you can only hear the howling wind and the beat of your own heart. You can’t feel that barrier in your mind, splintered and fractured, irreparable because you’re free.

When your arms extend out at your sides, you can feel a frantic hand grab at the fabric of your jacket. Bakugou holds you in place whilst you let yourself go; to feel free, for the first time. Your heart races in your chest, the feeling like nothing you’ve ever experienced before in your life and you want to cling to this feeling, to this freedom. To the man in front of you, the one who had gifted you that freedom so easily.

The reflection of the two of you disappears quickly, the building left behind and you can’t help but grin when you finally hear Bakugou again over the whistling wind.

“I swear to fuckin’ god, I won’t be scooping your brains off the road. Put your arms back around me!”

You laugh into the helmet, wrapping your arms once again around his body. You can still feel the tension in his back but it melts just slightly when you grasp tighter than before, holding the entirety of your body against his own.

“You got a death wish or somethin’?!” He still growls despite you being reattached to him, and you give him another laugh that makes his shoulders sag just slightly in relaxation. “Fuckin’ idiot—...”

“Thank you for bringing me out tonight.” Your words are met with silence, your head comes to rest against the broadness of his shoulders comfortably as you watch the world pass by. The city eventually bleeds out into green, grass and trees that tower high into the sky. You’ve never been here before.

“Yeah, whatever.” Bakugou grumbles quietly, and if it wasn’t for the connection between your helmets you would’ve missed the bashfulness in his voice. “We’re nearly there so just hold on this time, dumbass.”

You let your body move effortlessly with his, swaying from side to side when he does sharp turns around corners that would have an inexperienced rider thrown off the back of their bike. The rain has started to lessen, only a light drizzle that drenches the back of your jacket and you only squeeze tighter around the single source of warmth.

Bakugou slows the bike down to a complete stop once he reaches the destination in mind, with a glance around you can see you’re in the middle of nowhere. There are a few houses dotted around, if you can call them that, they’re more like massive mansions.

“C’mon, keep that on and keep quiet.” Bakugou taps your thigh to get you to climb off the bike before he follows after you. You watch him manually move his bike to hide in the shadows behind some bushes and you’re furrowing your eyebrows immediately in confusion. Just what exactly was he planning?

He tilts his head in a gesture to get you to follow, taking you off of the road and down a steep hill that leads further into the underbrush. The city is obscured by the number of trees and large shrubs, and you nearly lose sight of Bakugou when he ducks in and out of the shadows—but as you watch him, you realise he knows his way through all of this a little too well.

“You’ve been here before?” You whisper over the link, and you see Bakugou glance over his shoulder at you for a moment before returning his gaze forward.

“Yeah, been comin’ here since I first moved here. It’s the only place with some real grass.” His voice lowered down to a whisper has your stomach set alight with butterflies. You continue to wordlessly follow him until he abruptly stops, throwing a hand back to grab at your forearm before pulling you down into a crouch next to him.

You peek around his shoulder, your eyes silently activating to see what he might be seeing. Immediately you hone in on a large SUV parked up on the ridge of the road, around fifty feet in front of you. There’s four heat signatures, all of them belonging to men who are in thick armour and strapped with multiple weapons.

“Arasaka.” You whisper to Bakugou, who quietly nods his head. He doesn’t move a muscle, holding your wrist tightly in his hand as if he’s waiting for them to just look in your direction and open fire. “They’re not holding their weapons, they’re not looking for anyone.”

“The Arasaka estate is up ahead. They’re still on guard dog duty.” Bakugou supplies, causing your eyes to move away from the group of men to the estate he speaks of. You can see it much more clearly with your augmentations active, you can see the heat signatures within and the overwhelming amount of security measures in place.

There’s an indistinctive shout causing you to dart your eyes back towards the group of people only to see them piling back into the car. Bakugou visibly deflates in relief, his hand around your forearm slips down to your wrist before he’s tugging you after him. You follow lowly just behind him, mindful of each step as you grow closer and closer to the edge of the underbrush. Bakugou exits first, standing to his full height which drags you up next to him.

When you glance around, you’re silenced by the view. It’s beautiful. Night City is in the distance, so wide and yet so tightly compacted into tall skyscrapers and tall flashing neon signs. Bakugou’s hand slips away from your wrist when you take steps towards the cliff edge that looks down on the lower level of residents, you can’t take your eyes away from the city before you.

It looked so… small. So dense and yet you knew the intensity of it all from the very moment your eyes opened in that ripper’s office. Night City was a vicious beast, a machine that chewed you up and spat you back out if you weren’t strong enough to survive—but when you look at it from here, look at how insignificant the people are and how tiny the city is. It’s almost impossible to comprehend.

“I come here when I need to clear my head,” Bakugou speaks clearly next to you, having taken off his helmet and holding it beneath his arm. You follow suit and remove your own, thankful for the fresh breeze and slight drizzle against your face. You glance towards Bakugou only to see his eyes set on the city before you, absorbed in his own thoughts. “Figured you could use it too.”

“It looks so beautiful from out here, but inside… it’s—”

“One of the worst places to live. Yeah, I thought it’d be great moving here all those years ago. But I was a dumb kid with a dumb idea, and now here I am.” Bakugou huffs, running his free hand through his flattened hair to re-fluff it before settling himself down onto the ground.

You take his lead and sit next to him, putting your helmet to the side and being careful to not let it roll off the edge of the small cliff in front of you. Setting your eyes back onto the city, you feel that sense of freedom again. You were free from the city, even for just a moment, you felt like you could breathe for yourself for the first time. Your heart wasn’t pounding, your mind wasn’t racing and your skin wasn’t itching in knowing what lay beneath it all.

“Any reason you spaced out when Dunceface started talking about Shinsou’s gig with the Net?” Bakugou inquires after a moment of silence, you turn your attention to him to find he’s leaning against his propped-up knees, head tilted in your direction. “Don’t gotta tell me shit but—”

“It just reminded me of when I was… healing.” You admit, not missing the way Bakugou visibly winces at the reminder of what put you there in the first place. “When I was in there… Something happened, and hearing Kaminari talk about Daemons—it made me think about why I can’t remember anything.”

“What, like someone’s infected your network or something?” Bakugou shifts slightly, raising his head to look at you properly with a level of concern that looks frankly terrifying on his face. He looks… worried.

“I don’t know, maybe? It’d make sense. I have this empty part of my head that I can’t access, like it’s been cut off from me or something. What if there’s a Daemon in my system? Or worse.”

“Shinsou would’ve picked up on that. Or even Jirou, she’s the one who said you had impressive firewalls inside that head of yours.”

A part of you wants to agree with him, because it does make sense. They would’ve found the source of whatever was wrong with you, but instead, they came out empty-handed and you, empty-headed. But you can’t shake the vision of that man, the blurred green of his eyes and then when you saw him in the street… something just wasn’t right.

“Maybe you’re right. I just—it’s scary, y’know? Not knowing who I am.” You whisper that last part, and Bakugou’s eyes turn from concern to a shade of pity. He shifts himself closer to you, slinging a heavy arm around your shoulders to pull you in close until your head is tucked against his shoulder.

“It doesn’t matter who you were, that’s what I always told myself when I moved here. I’m not the same guy as I was back then, I found myself. I found a new purpose. That’s just what you need, a new purpose, a new life that you created yourself.” His words are mumbled from where he presses his cheek against the top of your head.

A new purpose, a new life. That’s what you wanted. To shed yourself of whoever you may have been before all of this, before you had met Bakugou and Kirishima—before you had been let into their family even with them knowing you were capable of killing them all. Your heart aches but not in agony this time, it aches with joy.

You wanted so much more than what this city had to offer, you wanted to find out what you liked; your favourite foods, your favourite movies, your favourite smells and also the things you hated. You wanted to live.

“I think I’d like that,” you smile, shifting your head against Bakugou’s shoulder to look up at him. He meets your gaze with a soft look on his face, an almost invisible smile on his face. “I want to see the world.”

“Yeah? The world? That’s a lot to see.” His smile grows when you laugh quietly.

“Would you show me the world, Katsuki?”

Bakugou is quiet at your question, his eyes flit down to your lips before they find your eyes again. He looks so beautiful this close, the different shades of red in his eyes are breathtaking. There’s so much captured in them, every emotion he feels and every thought he has flicks behind them before his eyebrows visibly relax, his body holding you closer.

He leans in, lips brushing against your own before he speaks. “I’ll show you it all.”

And when he kisses you, he kisses you softly and gently like you were to be handled with such care. It’s not love but you have a feeling that it might blossom into something like that. One day.

Before you know it, the three days of rest have come and gone. It felt like you had blinked and you were back right where you started before everything had happened in that plastic-wrapped room. But this time you had Shinsou on one side and Kaminari on the other in the back of Bakugou’s car.

Currently, Shinsou was connected to your interface via a cable that slipped free from his wrist and fused itself into the plating on your palm. He had told you it was to relay all information that you’d need to ensure you got in there unnoticed, he loaded you with visuals of maps, layouts of their cameras and their usual patrolling routes.

Kaminari on your other side was fiddling with a hunting knife, the jagged edge was glinting in the passing street lights and every now and again it would buzz with electricity. He told you it was connected to his own chrome, he’s able to absorb electricity and pass it back through objects—something that had earned him plenty of shocks to the system that left him reeling.

Even with the presence of Shinsou in the back of your mind offloading a multitude of data, you couldn’t tear your eyes away from Bakugou who was once again in the driver's seat. He had been different in the three days since that night outside of the city. He was more open to the idea of intimacy, often opening his arms for you at night and holding you in the mornings until he had to inevitably get up.

Kirishima had noticed it too, grinning along with the back-and-forth jokes between you and Bakugou. He thankfully didn’t make a scene out of the gentle touches he absolutely caught the two of you exchanging when you assumed no one was around.

Your chest fills with those pesky butterflies, the smile on your face must look mushy because you can feel the ache in your cheeks. You felt genuinely happy, an emotion that was your own and something you were able to hold onto. You wanted to experience everything with Bakugou at your side, and no doubt Kirishima would tag along too.

After that night out in North Oak, you had returned home to find that it was just Kirishima left and Bakugou had offhandedly said that a trip to Japan was on the table. Kirishima had leapt at the opportunity to talk about his hometown, about the different shops and restaurants there. He spoke about his country with so much love, and Bakugou had a nostalgic look on his face—so you asked if he’d take you there one day. He agreed, of course, stating it’ll be the first stop on your way to conquering the world.

Kirishima, of course, had no idea just what that meant.

“Try to keep your head clear,” Shinsou comments from the side, effectively dragging you free from your thoughts. “It’ll go more smoothly if you’re not actively trying to force me out of that brain of yours.” Your eyes drag along the cable connecting the both of you, something that could open you up in the most vulnerable of ways.

During the three days of rest, you spent more time with Shinsou too. He had been a Netrunner for a long time, even coming from Arasaka’s very own prestigious school with the help of Aizawa funding him through the entirety of it. The rest of the crew hadn’t been so fortunate, coming from no education at all or limited from when they lived in Tokyo.

That was another thing you were curious about. People didn’t just come to Night City for fun, it was a city designed to trap you here until your inevitable death. Apparently, Shinsou had always been in NC, born and raised in Japantown but almost everyone else had tales of the way things were being run back in Japan—long story short, it was being overrun by corporations that had no regard for people who were beneath them. It was either leave or die.

“Done. Should be good to go.” Shinsou says, withdrawing the cable connected to your wrist. The information flickers through your mind rapidly, similar to how someone would graze through a filing cabinet. Everything was here, this would be a simple operation if you pulled it off correctly.

You hadn’t realised the car had drawn to a stop until Bakugou turned his head to look at you, eyebrows furrowing together as if he was trying to figure out something to say. But instead, it’s Kaminari who speaks up, slapping a hand against your thigh before he grins.

“Ready to pull off the coolest fucking job?” You don’t miss the way Bakugou’s eyes lock onto the hand for a second too long before he meets your eyes again. All you can do is nod along, still unable to break your eyes away from Bakugou until he forces himself to look away first.

With a nod of his own head, Kaminari deems that worthy enough of a response and grins at you. His hand squeezes your thigh absentmindedly before he climbs out of the car, yelping with Bakugou grunts a command at him the second he steps out of the car.

Soon enough, you’re out of the car too whilst Kirishima ensures you have your weapon loaded and Shinsou talks over the game plan again. “You need to get to the underground levels. On the first floor, it should be primarily empty, the rest of Maelstrom will be beneath that. All you have to do is get into that room, snag a shard and leave. We’re here for backup.”

“I’ll have to go dark when I’m inside.” You see Bakugou shift on his feet a little at that, the uneasiness of you being unable to communicate with them properly if anything was to go wrong. They all nod in agreement regardless, stepping back when you slip the handgun into its holster on your waist before shrugging off the orange jacket that Kirishima had given you all those weeks ago. Bakugou wordlessly takes it from you.

Looking at the building just across the street, it looks unassuming. A simple warehouse, but even you could see the spray tags on the walls of the Maelstrom, this was a significant base of theirs.

Just as you’re about to step forward to begin the job, a hand grabs your elbow and you turn to see Bakugou looking at the building instead of you. “Don’t do anything reckless this time.” His eyes drift down to meet yours, the red flaring to life in his eyes for a second. “Got it, hotshot?”

Your eyebrows raise. “Hotshot?”

“You took a pulse rifle shot—”

“Oh, you’re terrible. Really? Hotshot?” You grin at his words, it was another terrible joke he couldn’t stop himself from making. His lips twitch in a small smirk before it fades, the gravity of the situation settling on him once again. “I’ll be fine, I have you to back me up this time. Right?”

Bakugou stays silent for a moment before he nods. “Right. I’ve got your back.” He looks hesitant when you take a step backwards, his fingers that had been in contact with your elbow twitching at his side before he ultimately decides to pocket them. “Don’t play hero either, you get out of there if you have to.”

“It almost sounds like you care for me Katsuki,” his eyes widened the tiniest amount at the use of his name, no doubt a flurry of memories from just a few nights ago flitting through his mind. “But don’t worry, I’m not going to be taking bullets for anyone today. I have the world to see, remember?”

But before Bakugou could say anything, you fade into nothing right before him. Even when his eyes flash to life, he can’t see you anywhere. His eyebrows draw together in concern, this plan felt rushed—he should be going in with you, you shouldn’t be taking this on alone. What was Aizawa thinking? A hand clapping on his shoulder draws his attention away from where you may have gone.

…Your shoulders drop once Bakugou looks away, you could see the concern on his face, painted as clear as the sky above. You couldn’t remember if you had ever done solo missions like this before—having a partner to help would’ve been nice, but you had no time to dwell on it when you started to walk towards the big warehouse. You note the multiple cameras as you pass by them, the red blinking light flickers for a moment before they’re shut down. Have you always had cyberware that could shut down electronics?

“That was me.” Shinsou’s voice is loud in your head, as if he were speaking directly next to you. “Sorry, should’ve said something.”

“Yeah, no shit.” You murmur back, eyes darting back and forth once you slip through the open warehouse door. There was a big truck in the centre of the room, modified with spikes and reinforced windows. Definitely Maelstrom.

“About twenty feet in front of you, and then to the right there should be a door that will lead to the stairwell. That’s your way in.”

You follow Shinsou’s guidance without hesitation, feet moving silently across the floor whilst your eyes dart back and forth through the dark warehouse. It was odd for it to be so empty, were they all really below ground? Surely there should be a guard— “Stop!” Shinsou all but hisses at you, your entire body freezing at the edge of a rack of crates.

There’s movement, and your eyes dart upwards to see a drone scanning slowly. Drones? Since when did Maelstrom have the money for drones? You don’t say anything as you watch the silent drone pass by, thankfully having not detected you even through your invisibility. This could prove to be a problem if they’re using tech like that, who knows what else they have hidden.

“There are no mentions of drones anywhere. They’re chromeheads, sure, but they always liked doing shit themselves.” Shinsou supplies once you’re moving again. Slipping into the stairwell that Shinsou had directed you to, you notice the difference in temperatures almost immediately. It’s freezing.

“Turning off comms.”

“Wait—” His voice cuts out immediately, something doesn’t feel right down here. It shouldn’t be so cold, it’s like stepping into an industrial freezer. Maelstrom didn’t like the cold, for one simple reason; it fucked with their cyberware.

Freezing temperatures caused it to malfunction, which meant… it’ll fuck yours up too. You need to back out, and report what you think might be down there but—something is stopping you. Aizawa would be pissed if you back out of this with your tail between your legs, he definitely wouldn’t let you come back empty-handed either.

With slow careful steps, you continue to descend into the freezing depths of the basement. Rounding the corner that leads to the final set of steps, you stop in your tracks. The lights are off, save for a slow, long blink of a red light. All the hairs stand up on the back of your neck, something screaming in the back of your mind to back out now. Your hand slips to the handgun on your holster, withdrawing it when you press your back to the cold concrete wall.

You can do this. You can find out what’s in this room, slip by and find the shard. You can do this. You can. Sucking in a harsh breath, you brace your body before whipping around the corner with your gun raised but your blood runs cold, determination falling from your face and morphing into fear. “What—”

...

“What the fuck do you mean you can’t contact her?” Bakugou snarls, glaring at Shinsou who’s hunched over a laptop that was once tracking your whereabouts.

“She said she was turning off comms, but she wasn’t even in the basement yet.” Shinsou frowns, running a hand through his unruly purple hair for a moment. “Fuck, you don’t think she…?”

“No,” Kirishima replies, leaning against the car with his eyes locked on the building in front of them. “She wouldn’t do that, not now.”

“Should we go in?” Kaminari offers, glancing over Shinsou’s shoulder to stare at the blank map.

Shinsou opens his mouth to talk before all heads whip towards the warehouse, their hearts thumping in their chests whilst the sound of the alarms being tripped drowns out any words any of them may have wanted to say.

There are approximately three seconds of calm before the storm hits full force. The Maelstrom weren’t in fact in the building at all, instead hiding in the surrounding smaller buildings dotted around. Yet none of them looks at the group that is sitting staring at the scene unfolding; they’re all descending onto the warehouse.

Onto you.

“It’s a setup,” Bakugou says, words coming out monotone as if he wasn’t quite aware of what he was saying—unaccepting of the ugly truth. “She’s been fucking set up.”

He doesn’t hesitate. His feet move before he fully registers that he’s barreling towards what is most likely certain death, he thinks he can hear Kirishima shouting at him to stop but he can’t. You weren’t going to fucking die now after everything.

His heart hurts from how hard it pounds against his ribcage, the rifle in his hand is light when he raises it to shoot anyone who steps foot into his path. Bakugou barrels through the open warehouse door, following the directions Shinsou had given to you no more than ten minutes ago. It seems a lot of the Maelstrom have made their way below ground, or had been shot on Bakugou’s way in.

His stomach twists uncomfortably at the thought of you being trapped beneath the ground with a gang of twenty or more descending on you with the intention of killing you. His hand itches around the rifle, fingers twitching with the urge to open fire the second he can.

Something like true fear starts to pool into Bakugou’s stomach once he deduces that you must’ve descended the only set of stairs. The freezing fog slowly creeping up the steps is enough to make him shiver, the chrome in his body aches from the slow approaching cold. There’s no way you could be down there and still be alive, you were more metal than human than he was.

And yet still, Bakugou pushes through the veil of fear that washes over him and descends the stairs. The fog swirls and wraps around him like tendrils, tugging him further into the icy depths of the dark basement. His thumb brushes against the side of his gun, flicking it off the safety and soon a red laser helps guide him through the dense fog.

He can’t see anything, or anyone, it does nothing to quell the horrid feeling that’s making a home in his chest. Had they already gotten to you? Kidnapped you? Did they know you were a high-priced target? The Maelstrom were no strangers to wanting to get their hands on money, they’d do anything for it.

In the darkness, Bakugou stumbles as the tip of his boot catches on something. He catches himself quickly enough, gun darting downwards and he’s unsurprised to see the remnants of one of the gang members. They already weren’t people anymore, but seeing them like this was something else. You had certainly been the one to cause such damage, but that just leads to the question – where the fuck are you?

A hand clamps onto his shoulder, jolting the large blonde to move and reposition his gun until it was under the chin of whoever dared to sneak up on him. Just through the thickness of the fog, he’s able to see the illuminated red eyes of Kirishima staring down at him. It only soothes his heart a little, he knows Kirishima will have his back through this and for whatever is to come next.

“You fucking big idiot, who just grabs someone in the dark?” Bakugou hisses regardless of the relief that settles into his rigid bones, his heated breath puffs out to add to the ever-growing fog that surrounds them.

Kirishima smiles a little, albeit sheepishly and lets his hand drop from Bakugou’s shoulder. “I didn’t want to shout, who knows what’s in here.” Kirishima manages to whisper back, his eyes finally darting away from Bakugou to scour the darkness.

Bakugou can only grumble about that, Kirishima did have a point. Neither of them knew what was in there, and Bakugou couldn’t rely on his eye enhancements in the frigid cold. So he just moves, and Kirishima moves naturally along with him.

“Do you think they got to her?” The dreaded question comes tumbling from Kirishima’s mouth.

“I fuckin’..- I don’t know.” Comes Bakugou's blunt reply, but he doesn’t mean for it to be so blunt. There’s just no other way around it, the possibility of you being taken or worse is slowly increasing. Bakugou doesn’t know what to do with the slow-building guilt in his conscience. He should’ve turned this job down for you, you were just blindly following whatever Aizawa demanded of you.

A click has both of the men freezing, Bakugou’s rifle in his hand poised and ready to fire the second the threat shows itself.

…The gun feels like a ten-tonne weight in your hand, it makes the synthetic fibres in your muscles in your body ache. But nothing is quite as heavy as the shard in your hand, it makes your stomach lurch uncomfortably to the point where your breakfast threatens to make a return.

When you rounded the stairs and found the shard in a lone storage slot within an open cabinet, you had never wanted to run more. It wasn’t the fact it was a shard—but rather that it had your name engraved into the delicate metal.

As soon as you had picked it up the red blinking light had turned off, the freezing air spilling from the now empty cabinet and tumbling onto the floor. You were plunged into darkness, and yet you could still see the shard as clear as day in your hand.

However, it wasn’t just any data shard; it belonged to Militech. They were known for their ruthless advances in A.I. and other technological achievements, and the very thing in your hand with your name etched into it—you knew it could only mean trouble, whoever had dropped it off here wanted you to find it. But why? You didn’t understand, with each passing thought that involved Militech and the shard in your hand, it felt like your brain was ripping itself apart trying to recover memories that were locked behind a thick wall.

You had to get rid of it; destroy it or make sure no one ever got their hands on it. This thing could hold countless pieces of information on the inner workings of Militech and its operations.

“Hurry, or they’ll kill you.”

There’s a quick shuffle of footsteps coming down the steps behind you, and your fingers tighten uncomfortably around the chip. If you died here, you’d never be able to get away and ensure this thing never saw the light of day. The Maelstrom must’ve paid a pretty price for this thing, or perhaps they were keeping it safe until Militech came and picked it up. You couldn’t risk any of them getting their hands on it.

You only had one choice.

It’s not a painful procedure, it feels more like a tingle when the chip slides into the slot next to your own data shard on the back of your neck. But then it locks in, and it feels like you’re injected with nanites; they bite and chip away at you until they take root in your brain. They skitter and scamper across your spine, wrapping themselves around every vertebra. You can feel the way it spreads and wraps itself around your frontal lobe, squeezing until it’s too painful to bear.

You squeeze your eyes shut, and your fingers press fruitlessly into the slot to try and pry it out of your body but it won’t release. It feels like your very soul is being warped and pressed into a mould, ripped and torn until you’re no longer a person anymore.

The scream that tears apart your throat doesn’t sound like your own, it’s mangled and distorted—you can feel yourself fragmenting, your very skin splitting apart to rebuild itself in an attempt to save itself from the A.I. that was rapidly infecting your system. Your mind feels like it’s on fire, burning in the deepest depths of hell until finally, you feel nothing.

Everything clicks into place, and the pain vanishes just as quickly as it had latched on. You move automatically when the first wave of Maelstrom approaches you, your handgun tossed to the side in favour of the gun embedded in your arm. It whirs to life, and you can only watch through the tinted glass of your eyes as you make your way through people as if they were nothing more than wet paper.

It all slowly comes to a lull, bodies slumped to the floor and blood sticks to your skin. It should feel cold but you feel like you’ve been locked out of your own body—everything is numb.

It’s all so empty now, the memories you had formed over the last few months of being part of a family flicker and fade from existence. You couldn’t put a name to the faces in your mind, the voices and laughter becoming nothing but static that blinds you to the noise of approaching footsteps.

Not until it’s too late. You hear a shout, your eyes adjusting to the darkness to make out two outlines of gang members. One has a gun raised to you, the other has their hands raised to you as well yet you don’t spy a weapon. The Maelstrom weren’t known for their chrome for nothing, you suspected they had some interesting weaponry just like your own.

Your eyes flicker, the augmentations in your eyes malfunctioning the longer you resist the command to execute all those who pose a threat to you. A warning flashes across your vision, a clear message that if you continue to resist you’re at risk of imminent death.

You raise your gun in response. There’s a presence looming just behind you, out of sight, yet you can hear a low chuckle – the familiarity of it has your blood freezing, and yet you can’t find the strength to stop yourself from acting on command for whoever was in control of the A.I.

“Put it down!” One of them yells, yet it’s muddied by the static in your ears. It sounds like they’re shouting through an old radio. “Lower your fucking weapon!”

“They’ll kill you. Make sure you get there first.” The voice over your shoulder supplies, and you swear you can feel the puff of warm breath against your neck. There’s a soft brush of curls against your cheek when they lean just enough into your peripheral you can see green.

There are more whispers between the two of them, words you can’t make out but their momentary distraction is enough. Your arm tenses, the warning across your vision vanishes and then there’s a blinding light, it illuminates the darkness of the basement enough for you to finally make out the faces of the two men who had approached you.

You can only blink, the familiar red and blonde hair makes your heart lurch. This all seemed so oddly familiar, a strange sense of deja vu washes over you. You expect to see one of them fall to the ground, but instead, it’s you who watches the world tilt and fall away.

You can’t move. Your limbs feel like they’re too heavy for your bones, and the cold finally starts to seep through your bones the second you make contact with the floor.

“FUCK!” The blonde all but screams, and before you know it he’s in your face. Your body moves like a ragdoll until you’re scooped into his lap. You think you can feel the brush of his fingers against your forehead, frantically swiping away the hair that clings to your sweat-ridden skin. You can feel one of his hands move away from your face to press hard against your chest, you watch his face crumple when he realises something.

He’s speaking, rocking just slightly and the static starts to fade away until you hear him. “‘M sorry. ‘M so fucking sorry. I didn’t–I knew I shouldn’t–.” His sentences aren’t complete, broken up by the wet sobs that shake his body. His hand is wet when it comes back to your face, the smell of synthetic blood clogs your nose.

The unnamed blonde continues to press his fingers against your face, squeezing your cheeks in an attempt to get you to respond but you can feel something now; a tug to just let go. You can only watch when the red-haired one squats down next to you as well, his mouth moves but there’s no sound.

You don’t think you have it in you to speak, to tell them something—anything, your world slowly starts to darken around you. But you hope the man cradling you knows he meant something to you; even if you can’t quite grasp the reason why. You just know that perhaps you might’ve come to love him, if you were given the chance to.

“Another disappointment.” The unknown man shrouded in a cloak of darkness watches from over the shoulders of both men who crowd you, but neither of them seems to notice him, too preoccupied with attempting to stop the rapid warmth that is spilling from your chest. The last thing you see is him shaking his head, a flash of green before there’s nothing.

. . . .

There’s a clatter on the sofa, followed by a choked sob. Bakugou rakes his hands through his hair, pushing back the long strands that fell onto his face. He side-eyes the headgear next to him; a braindance.

It wasn’t just any braindance, it was one he had made specifically for him. They called it ‘Soulswap’, it was a walkthrough of your entire time with him, from the moment he had found you in that warehouse and up to the moment he had shot you. How it was made was something that Bakugou fought with for a while, it was morally wrong. To have someone dissect you like some high school science experiment and implant strands of your data—your memories—into something that he could watch.

A ding on the coffee table draws his attention away from the braindance, and he swipes up his phone to see Kirishima has sent him a message.

[22:34] RED: Stop reliving it. You know that isn’t what she wanted.

Bakugou scoffs, what the fuck did Kirishima know about you? What the fuck did he know about the weight in his chest that replaced his once beating heart? He knew nothing. No one listened to him when he said that it wasn’t you at the end, that you weren’t in control.

It was charted down to Cyberpsychosis on your unofficial death certificate.

The uneasiness continued to eat away at Bakugou, even when he chose to ignore the onslaught of text messages from the others. It’d been this way for the last four years and it had only come to fruition now. It was hard to find someone capable enough of creating a braindance that wasn’t just a cheap way to get off or to kill someone without repercussions.

It was a delicate job, and he had finally found the guy to do it.

Yet now he’s unsure if he should’ve gone through with it. Whilst it was all in cyberspace, he could still feel the emotions you had in your final moments. You had felt something for him, just as he had felt something for you—does feel something for you.

Sinking back into the sofa, the world buzzes around him yet it feels like Bakugou is still stuck in that basement all those years ago. It used to take a more violent toll on his body, his modifications often becoming the victim of neglect until Kirishima forced him to keep taking the blockers to ensure he didn't spiral into psychosis.

Bakugou’s head lulls back, staring up at the spinning fan on the ceiling. It won’t be long until Kirishima comes back and lectures him about bad habits or whatever the fuck he wanted to be on his ass for.

“And with the renewed partnership between Militech and Lazarus, I truly believe we’ll be able to bring a stop to crime here in Night City.”

That voice causes Bakugou to snap his head up, glaring at the television that hung from the ceiling in the centre of the room. It wasn’t often he would make TV appearances but it wasn’t unexpected. He watches the camera pan across an array of Militech drones and other tech that he can’t quite understand before it falls back onto the CEO of Militech.

Izuku Midoriya.

Midoriya has a fake smile plastered on his face, hands buried in his deep expensive pockets as he stares at the interviewer just off to the side. His verdant eyes are dull, devoid of anything lifelike. Bakugou isn’t surprised entirely by that, Izuku was… once a friend, but he betrayed him and the rest of them for a chance at fame.

He moved to Militech and quickly overtook the company, plunging them into tech that wasn’t short of war machines.

“Hah, yes. It is true, we have been working on a new AI that we think will definitely be capable of deterring even those inflicted by Cyberpsychosis.”

Bakugou blinks, his attention drawn back to the screen to see Izuku laughing about whatever had been asked, something about that laugh sounds familiar – not just from when he had known Izuku but from recent memory.

And when it slowly dawns on him, it curdles his blood and makes his stomach tense. That laughter. The voice that lacks any emotion. The world fades into nothing around him the longer he stares at Midoriya talking animatedly about something in the interview, his chest tightens more and more until it feels like his heart may just burst.

It wasn’t a case of regular Cyberpsychosis.

Izuku Midoriya was the one who triggered it. He must’ve been the one who had planted that foreign chip, he wouldn’t just hand something like that over to the Maelstrom.

“We’re proud to announce the next line of fully-developed Artificial Intelligence; Akuma. This is just one of our newly created full cyborg—”

Bakugou finds his body locking into place, muscles growing tight and stomach twisting in knots before his heart plummets down into his stomach. His eyes widened. There. Right next to Izuku is… you. But it’s not the you he knew, it’s a duplicate, one of the new cyborgs created to withstand ‘Akuma’.

He can tell from the way you hold yourself, rigid and cold like you were just some lifeless robot. You don’t respond to the stimuli around you, staring blankly ahead. It feels like his heart is being torn apart once again, shredded in a blender until there’s nothing left but an empty void that sits in his chest.

He knows for a fact that it’s not the real you, the one he held, the one who took a bullet for him—the one he was going to take home to meet his parents. He watched you go up in flames at a pyre funeral. It was Aizawa who had suggested it. “To make sure no one gets her.” Looks like that didn’t fucking matter, did it?

…No. Izuku must’ve had your DNA stored from when you worked at Militech. You were just an experiment, all the chrome you were sporting wasn’t just because you were a Militech worker, but rather because you were one of the prototypes for Militech. From the very start, you were destined to fail—another disappointment.

Bakugou doesn’t even register that he’s already moving, swiping up the bomber jacket you wore. The pulse rifle swung over one shoulder and the door slammed shut behind him. It was time to pay his childhood friend a visit.

#bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou katsuki x you #katsuki bakugo oneshot #bakugo katsuki imagine #cyberpunk!bakugou #bakugo smut #bakugo katsuki smut

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stars-for-circe · 2 months

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Yes Ma’am

Support Palestine

Tags/cw: smut, masturbation, fingering, voyeurism, farm au

Thinking about Farmhand!Abby working around the place during the summer, and when you finally come visit your family’s farm for the holidays, you see her, in nothing but a wifebeater and dirtied denim jeans.

She’s doing some heavy lifting from the truck to the shed, brows furrowed and sweat dripping down her muscles and back, yelling some orders to the others in that sweet-sounding southern accent. Oh, you can’t take your eyes off her for a single fucking second.

And come night time, after all the small talk and “hello”s while catching up with your family, you find yourself in bed under the moonlight, a soft breeze coming through the open window, just staring at the ceiling in thought. How strong she looked, how tall she was. How, when it was finally time to walk into the house after arriving, and right past Abby, you were met with sheepish eyes staring demurely up and down your body when she thought you weren’t watching. Surprisingly shy, you think in your head.

And you, so focused on remembering every part of the girl, unable to notice your hand trailing down, down, down your body, past your waistband. With a jolt of pleasure, you realise what you’re doing - who you’re thinking of as you touch yourself. God, just one glance in your direction and Abby has entirely consumed you, plaguing your thoughts as you fuck yourself on your fingers and wish it was hers so badly.

How unapologetic you are, when you finally cum, fingers all wet and sticky and furiously circling your sensitive clit, as you clench achingly around nothing. You feel empty, still. An itch you can’t scratch yourself. You need Abby. You need her with every part of your being, for her to be yours this summer.

And what a powerful manifestation you made, what with how just outside, below your room on the second floor, stands Abby on the porch. Leaning with her back against the wall, head thrown back and fingers deep inside her cunt - the cigars your father asked for her to deliver long forgotten. Just barely illuminated by the moon and some distant light left on inside the house, is her, grinding helplessly against her hand, muffling every whine and whimper with her other hand grasped tight around her mouth as she listens to your soft sighs and moans. A shudder as Abby cums, and then a jolt at the overstimulation, before she goes still for a beat.

And then it’s a whispered swear as Abby yanks her hand out of her soiled jeans, clarity hitting as she’s just realised what she’s done. If your father finds out his farmhand just fucked herself to his daughter-

Concealment forgotten, she hurries off the wooden porch and back to her quarters, her boots thudding against the floor and making quite the racket. You jolt up at the noise, terrified someone heard your sins, what you just did to yourself. It’s the leaves crunching outside that brings your attention to the window, as you peak your head out to see what’s out there. And fuck the countryside, because it’s pitch black, and all you can make out is someone retreating back to their quarters. Someone tall, buff, but not like a man, almost like-

You smile to yourself, this revelation all too perfect. You wonder how much she heard, too. Was it just the quiet parts? Or maybe when you started letting out some noises? How about when you started moaning her name? Or when you came to the thought of her? A dull throb resurrects in you, pulsing, aching for more of what you just started.

Your parent always told you the dangers of an unlocked window, but an open one was certainly the best mistake to be made tonight…

Taglist: @happysparklingshadows @irelandzo @r3starttt @iamaboringrattat @genderfluidlesbain999 @slut4mascss @rxreaqia @kylorey25 @massivepeacefemme @elliewilliamsfavborderhopper @elliewilliamsisactuallymygf @ratdungeon @jayssketchbook @elxarw @mariasabanahabanabana @vvynia @abbyshands @littlegingerperson5

#tlou2 #the last of us #abby anderson #the last of us 2 #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson x you #abby anderson the last of us 2 #Abby Anderson smut

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augustinewrites · 1 month

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based on this

your frowning face appears in the mirror as wriothesley fixes his hair for the third time that afternoon, admiring how the gel he’d borrowed from clorinde was surprisingly adept at slicking back his unruly hair.

“we can’t be late,” you remind him, fiddling with the collar of your dress. “father despises tardiness…”

“awe, are you worried i’ll make a bad first impression?” he asks, finally turning to face you. “don’t worry, sweetheart. parents love me. well, maybe not my foster parents. but i’m always a hit with other people’s.”

the comment about his…colourful past goes right over your head. you really are worried. “it’s not you i’m worried about. father can be…intense.”

“i work in a prison. it can’t get more intense than that,” he reminds you, grabbing the gift bag sitting by the door. “besides, once we pull out this bad boy, he’ll be so impressed that he’ll ask me to join you for lunch next week too.”

of course, he had no actual idea if the wine navia had chosen was any good. though his wallet had come back significantly lighter, so that had to mean it was halfway decent.

“wriothesley,” you say, still looking deeply concerned. “you do know that father is–”

“intense, babe. i know,” he sighs, cupping your face in his hands and placing a kiss between your furrowed brows. you try to wriggle out of his hold, but he doesn’t let you, gently keeping your focus on him. “don’t worry, alright? i’ll shake his hand, we’ll talk about safe topics like the weather and how great the aquabus is. i’ll even use my best table manners when the food comes.”

his thumbs gently brush your cheeks as you sigh, shaking your head slightly. “i just really want you two to get along.”

“i can be plenty charming when i need to be,” he says, only letting you go to pull the front door open. “besides, who wouldn’t want a duke as a son-in-law?”

______

business at café lutece is unusually empty today, wriothesley observes. all of the tables are reserved, but remain empty at the height of the lunch rush.

you don’t seem to notice this, fingertips drumming the surface of the table

“quit fidgeting,” wriothesley murmurs, his lips brushing the shell of your ear.

“i’m just nervous,” you mutter, knee beginning to bounce. wriothesley chuckles, stilling it with a firm hand.

you look up at him, smiling as you place your hand over his. “thanks.”

the waiter comes back with the tea he’d ordered earlier, leaving a teapot and two small jars of sugar and milk. he’s in the middle of pouring you a cup when you suddenly sit up.

“father!”

“oh shit,” the duke mutters, quickly getting on his feet. he glances down at his outfit briefly, making sure his buttons are done up properly and his sleeves are rolled neatly before holding out his hand. “it’s nice to finally meet you–”

wriothesley’s open stance shifts into a protective one, immediately putting himself between you and the knave.

“well, isn’t this sweet,” the harbinger says, clearly more amused than threatened.

wriothesley looks back at you, incredulous. “your father is a fatui harbinger?!”

“all children of the house of the hearth refer to me as such,” she answers, gracefully pulling out and taking a seat across from him. “sit, your grace, and prove to me why you should continue to be allowed to court my child.”

_____

sitting face to face with the knave was equal parts exhilarating and nerve-inducing. exhilarating because she was the knave. skilled in combat and espionage and one of the highest ranking harbingers.

nerve-inducing because she was your father. and as much as he wanted to engage her in a battle of wits and fisticuffs, that was not something one did with their father-in-law.

“i trust business at the fortress is going smoothly, your grace?”

wriothesley casts the harbinger a wary look over his teacup. “you can read about childe’s status in the report i had sent over last week.”

“well, you know better than most that information from inside sources is much more valuable.”

both their gazes drift to you, and you send him an apologetic look.

“oh, relax,” the woman across from him laughs. “i was simply making conversation. since i’m short of time, however, i will make the point of our visit quite brief.”

she leans forward, clasping your hand in hers across the tabletop as she fixes wriothesley with a paragliding glare.

“if you ever hurt my child, or she comes to any harm whilst in your care, there is not a corner of the ocean dark enough for you to hide.”

“father!” you gasp. “you said you wouldn't threaten him.”

it’s almost eerie, how easily the dark expression slips off her visage. “that wasn’t a threat. c'était une promesse.”

#wriothesley x reader #genshin x reader #genshin fluff #wriothesley fluff #genshin x you #fem!reader

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smuttysabina · 3 months

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Drunk on Love With Dreamcatcher

(Male Reader x Dreamcatcher, 5.2k Words) Tags: Group sex, Multiple sex partners, Everyone gets some, Everyone is also sloppy drunk, Dear lord these girls can drink, Don't worry though, they would fuck you even if they were sober, Also rampant lesbianism, Oh yeah, the girls are getting it on too, Multiple positions, Not enough hydration, Remember kids, drinking is bad!

The lovely ladies of Dreamcatcher chatter and giggle as they sit around you, teasing and gossiping as they guzzle their potent drinks. Flanked by a gregarious Jiu and Siyeon, you tentatively sip at your own wine, as the seven idols mostly ignore you as they grow ever more sleazy and boisterous as the night goes on. The girls cuddle and tickle one another, jostling against you as they spasm and laugh at each other's rough horseplay; even the introverts of the bunch start to join in the fun as well! All the while your own glass slowly empties, whilst Dreamcatcher's are drained repeatedly, burning through bottles of beer, wine, soju, and even harder options. You stare forlornly at your crotch, hoping the girls you love so much will not notice the undying bulge in your pants. Then suddenly Yoohyeon's tits are out, as she yanks her shirt up to reveal her perky breasts and wiggles them enticingly at the other girls who howl and cheer in encouragement. The protrusion in your pants only grows more painfully large, how did a poor Insomnia like you end up in this delicious hell?

You had been overjoyed after winning the contest at the meet and greet, one lucky Dreamcatcher fan would get to celebrate the girl's seventh anniversary as a group with them, and that fortuitous fan had been you. So after a tortuous week that seemed to drag on for eternity, you had been allowed entry into the hallowed Dreamcatcher Company building. Led up the stairs to their living room, the girls had arrayed themselves around a U-shaped couch there and greeted you cheerfully. Bubbly Yoohyeon, troublesome Handong, mischievous Sua, bratty Gahyeon, aloof Dami, sultry Siyeon, and kindly Jiu; all of them beaming and waving for you to join them. The table before the Dreamies is covered with alcohol, glasses, and snacks, there is barely enough room to contain the sprawling cityscape of glass. You greet each girl in turn, bowing and shaking their hand before you squeeze in on the edge between Jiu and SIyeon, who smile reassuringly at you. A staff member takes several photos of you with them, as the girls pose in silly or sexy ways for the countless fans who were unable to join them for this event while you sit there with rigid awkwardness. Then the staff bow themselves out of the room, but leave a camera to live stream the festivities. Which go about as you might expect, Dreamcatcher modestly drinking as they joke and chat with their fans on the live stream, politely including you in the conversation when needed but mostly leaving to your own devices as a prop for their fans to project onto. After about an hour of stressful boredom, the girls wave goodbye to the camera and turn off the stream; it's time for the real celebration to begin.

Away from the judgmental eyes of the public, Dreamcatcher is able to let loose in a manner that seems altogether familiar to them. The girls throw back their drinks as if it were water, with Sua and Gahyeon especially keen on drowning themselves in alcohol. Now their banter is far more ribald and lewd, with so many innuendos and inside jokes you are unable to understand half of what they are talking about. Jiu nicely tries to keep you engaged, but as the bedlam continues she soon ends up mostly neglecting you once more; Siyeon didn't even bother chatting with you much aside from some humorous flirting. But as the night wears on, the girls grow ever more lascivious in their touch and games, with the lightweights of the group becoming flushed and indecent in their mannerisms. Handong, sprawled against Sua, dares Yoohyeon to flash her tits; and that was how you found yourself goggling at Yoohyeon's boobs as she shakes them about to the jeers and laughter of her friends. Your boner straining the fabric of your pants.

Sua lurches upright and latches onto Yoohyeon's breasts, groping them lewdly before sliding her hands down her toned abs to Yooh's perky ass; who moans outrageously at the other idol's attentions. The other girls titter and cheer at the pair's antics, and soon Handong, who was forced backward from Sua's rushing body, takes her own revenge and mauls Sua's vulnerable ass in turn. The triplet then collapse back onto the couch in a flurry of squeals, accidentally bumping into Gahyeon who squawks loudly in protest as her beer sloshes out onto her lap. She slaps at the squirming mass of idol flesh in protest, before standing up in indignation as she notices the size of the stain on her pants. Huffing in annoyance, she strips off her pants and underwear and tosses them aside before plopping back down again and refilling her glass. Your jaw drops at this casual stripping, Gahyeon's smooth pussy had been an arms length away from your face, and the rest of Dreamcatcher had hardly even blinked. Dami though seemed to have noticed, as her hand starts to stroke against the maknae's exposed thigh, causing her to roll her eyes and playfully drive her off with loud kisses. Meanwhile the chaotic three seemed to have devolved into an extremely sloppy make-out session, as clothes were tossed aside with careless abandon. Soon the other girls were pulling their outfits off as well, and before your brain can fully process the fact you are surrounded by seven fully naked idols; leaving you the only one covered.

Eventually the cuddle puddle at the other end of the couch dissolves, and Dreamcatcher return to their drinking and joking, though now with a blatantly sexual tone overlaying their conversations. You continue to nurse your single glass, still unable to believe that your favorite idols were completely nude, bodies on fully display for you to feast your eyes upon. Gradually however, you started to notice that someone else was watching the girls as avidly as you, and was reacting in about the same way. Dami was surreptitiously playing with herself, her face becoming ever more flushed as she grows quiet and withdrawn; focused upon her own pleasure. Not that her masturbation session goes unnoticed, evidently this was a common occurrence at Dreamcatcher parties because Siyeon and Gahyeon start to kiss and suck on her neck. They fondle Dami's breasts and stroke her quivering thighs, naughtily whispering encouragement to her as she approaches her climax. Dami groans huskily as she spasms, her pussy emitting a wet sloshing noise as she fingers her drooling hole. The other Dreamies cheer at the sight, lewdly touching themselves to spur her on to yet another orgasm which leaves Dami shuddering with delight. Gahyeon turns away from the spasming pervert and is soon locked in an intense kiss with Handong, who wastes no time in working the maknae's breasts like udders. Meanwhile Siyeon had returned to her original position next to you, though she was now far closer than before, as was Jiu. The pair's hands covertly find their ways onto your thighs, staring at the other girls as they roam your legs. Jiu suddenly beams and looks at you as her fingers curl around your cock, her gentle eyebrows raised in mock surprise.

Then a hand turns your head and your lips are forced against Siyeon's as she lets out a sultry growl, leaving Jiu to haul your pants down and unveiling your erection. Her gentle fingers are soon wrapped around your manhood as she slowly strokes it, kissing your neck as she awaits her turn. You moan as Siyeon expertly devours you, her tongue roaming your mouth and hungrily pressing against your own; the combined stimulation enough to make your cock leak. Siyeon breaks things off with an intense stare before turning your head back to Jiu who greets you with a much more gentle kiss. Siyeon's hand joins Jiu's, and they stroke you together, taking turns to ravish your mouth until your head is spinning with desire. At one point they both get up to smother your face with their modest breasts, squishing and rubbing them against you, they laugh when you start to lick and kiss their flesh; patting your head affectionately. Eventually Siyeon breaks things off, and descends upon your upraised cock, taking it in her warm mouth. Your hips buck as she skillfully sucks you off, her tongue dancing along your shaft while she easily takes your length down her throat. Jiu leans back to enjoy the show, slowly rubbing at her pussy and allowing you to take stock of the rest of the girls. Gahyeon and Sua are doing shots together, while the lightweights Handong and Yoohyeon and blearily fingering one another as Dami takes her turn sucking on their perky tits. Gahyeon burps loudly as she spots you watching, before fixing you with a desirous stare and squeezing her breasts together pointedly. Sua notices her drinking partner's distraction, and joins in the fun, bending over seductively and spreading her cheeks so you can see her glistening folds.

Your balls are only beginning to pulsate from the overstimulating sight before, but Siyeon pulls off immediately, grandly declaring that your first load should go in their leader's pussy. The rest of Dreamcatcher howl their agreement, as Jiu scoots over and sits on your lap, your member bending up against her soggy slit. She grinds on you a little bit, before sitting up and smoothly mounting you, slowly sliding your manhood inside of the warm confines of her pussy. The Dreamies clap and shout encouragement, though your view is mostly blocked by Jiu's toned back so you are spared the more titillating visual support the girls were offering. Then Jiu lets out a soft gasp, and soon the room is filled with gales of laughter as the girls immediately recognize what had taken place, you were already cumming inside of her! You groan in embarrassment as your overexcited cock erupts into the idol's exquisitely tight hole, your sack pulsating as it desperately seeks to impregnate the goddess atop you. Jiu gently rides out your orgasm, allowing your seed to drain into her completely before unmounting and swiftly giving you a reassuring kiss. She pats your cheek, smiling kindly before moving away and is replaced by a giggling Sua and Yoohyeon. The pair have their arms wrapped around one another's' waists as they sashay up to you, smirking down at your shrinking member. Behind this captivating sight, Siyeon has a beer bottle shoved up her cunt, and is sloppily feeding a pouting Gayheon from it; while Handong is getting her ass eaten by an extremely drunk Dami.

You don't have time to watch the unfolding scene however, as Sua and Yooh lean down to peck your cheeks, before turning around and giving your eyes a health helping of their own. They bend over together, their pussies scandalously in full view, with Yoohyeon's butt noticeably perkier than her companion's, but Sua's cunt was far wetter. The pair sit on your lap, squishing your softening cock between their asses, sensuously grinding their dripping pussies along your thighs as they raise their arms gracefully. Then they start to dance, at first working together, their butts sliding against each other as much as your own body, seductively stroking one another as they move. Sua goes first, her tinier cheeks edging aside Yooh's and giving her enough space to give you a proper lap dance, her hips flying up and down in front of you and tantalizingly brushing her sex against your now hardening dick. She does the splits, forcing her pussy out even more until her slit is wrapping around your bulging erection, bouncing minutely to rub your cock with her sloppy pussy lips. Yoohyeon cheers in delight at the sight, slapping her friend's butt to spur her on as she rubs her back. Sua howls in protest at this sudden reversal, usually she was the one squeezing butts, and snaps her legs together before toppling to the side, leaving you clear for Yoohyeon to take her turn. Unlike Sua's excessive acrobatics, Yooh simply grinds on your dick, using her perky cheeks to stimulate your cock as she rubs up and down your length. Sua soon rejoins the fray however, chugging a glass of champagne before messily kissing Yooh, and pinching her erect nipples. The two moan as their embrace grows more passionate and the Yooh stops bothering to move and focuses solely upon Sua.

They only stop when you grasp Yoohyeon's hips and start to move her yourself, desperate for more sensation. The pair break off and giggle with feigned shock at your boldness, they were pleased to see you taking a more active role! So Yooh bends over the table wiggling her but enticingly before the much smaller Sua nimbly places herself on top of the other idol, their asses now stacked atop each other. Standing up, the pair look back at you as you rub your cock against their slits, relishing in the soft wetness of their lower lips. Sua has had enough teasing however, and loudly urges you to mount them already; but who to fuck first. Closing your eyes, you blindly thrust forward, meeting some resistance before plunging upwards and causing Sua to groan in triumph. Yoohyeon pouts as you plow Sua, slamming yourself into her painfully tight pussy and making it drool down your balls. With unimaginable effort you manage to pull out of Sua, who sighs in disappointment as you try out Yoohyeon's hole this time. Her bubble butt felt far more enjoyable slapping against your crotch than Sua's toned cheeks, even if Yooh's pussy was looser than the other idol's. You pump inside Yooh's pussy for a time, before Sua's blandishments convince you to return to her narrow hole. So you take your time, swapping between the two whenever you feel close to finishing, prolonging the situation for as long as possible before you have to cum. Gahyeon and Handong join you in the meantime, pressing their bodies against your sides as they give you lewd advice on how best to fuck the girls bent before you. Their breasts squish against your sweaty flesh, Gahyeon's prodigious bust in particular distracting you greatly as you pound Sua and Yooh's cunts. The stimulation was all too much now, and you groan unabashedly as your seed spews first into Sua's hole, before you pull out and slam your spurting cock into Yoohyeon's, creampieing both of their sopping pussies.

The pair croon in exaggerated amazement as they feel your warmth fill them, smugly wriggling their butts when you pull out as if mocking you for unloading so much semen inside of them. Then Handong is on her knees, sucking your cock clean as her fingers grope your sore balls; while Gahyeon pulls you down into a deep kiss. Sua and Yoohyeon scurry away, as Handong's head bobs in front of your crotch, and Gahyeon guides your hands to her impressive chest. She leans back to allow you enjoy yourself thoroughly, reaching over to grab a bottle of whiskey, as she teasingly purses her puffy lips. Gahyeon hops up onto the couch, shoving her weighty breasts into your face and uncorking the bottle. Licking her lips, she urges you to drink up as with lasciviously sloth she pours the alcohol down her tits, making you lap it up as the amber beads roll down her skin. The sensual moment is broken when Handong morosely protests from below, tugging on your flaccid cock in annoyance, get it up again already. Piqued, Gahyeon in turn starts yelling down at the other idol, who seems far from sober and more than happy to get into a screaming contest with the loudest idol of the Dreamcatcher. Luckily for the sake of your hearing, reinforcements arrive to soothe the squabbling pair, as Jiu and Sua drag the pair away, leaving you bleary from the sudden intake of alcohol as well as the absence of comforting heat. You blink away your confusion and notice Dami sprawled nearby, watching you with the quiet fixation of those truly drunk. She gestures vaguely towards the center table, now reduced to an unsightly mess, waggling her hand to guide you towards whatever object she seemed so interested in. You maneuver around Siyeon and Yoohyeon, the latter's lips locked tight around the former's cunt, greedily gorging upon her hole like a starving beast as Siyeon groans and holds her close. Eventually you find what Dami seemed to want, a small purple bottle with the Twice symbol curiously stamped upon it.

Dami sluggishly smiles as you had her the bottle, uncorking it with some difficulty before chugging a measure of it. She pauses, before her pupils suddenly dilate and she breathes heavily for a few seconds before calming once more. Her eyes have changed however, now they gleamed with feral sharpness as she lithely sits up and yanks you down onto the cushions with her. Dami lets out a chuckle at your surprise, her off hand snapping out and grasping your softened member, while she dangles the purple bottle proactively. Noting your confusion, she sighs huskily and explains somewhat unsteadily that it was aphrodisiac, and if you wanted some well... Dami was in the mood for some fun. You readily agree to her terms, one gorgeous goddess was better than none, considering the current state of you manhood. Dami grabs a glass and carefully measures out a small portion for you, before guiding it to your lips for you. You drink the oddly sweet liquid, and cock your head at the idol, wasn't this supposed to do something? She rolls her eyes at your impatience, and resumes fondling your genitals with aplomb until you feel a sudden burning spreading from your stomach to your crotch. You groan as your cock grinds upwards until you are staggeringly erect, your brains succumbing to the sweltering sensation wracking your body. Dami's lips part with anticipation as you fill her hand with throbbing meat, she leans back and spreads her legs for you; well?

In a flash you are ravishing Dami, your cock buried fully within her pussy before you could conjure the thought to do so. You rut like an animal, snorting and grunting as you pump between her lithe thighs, forcing her legs back until you are mating pressing her with abandon. Dami for her part responds in kind, the aphrodisiac mixing dangerously with the alcohol. leaving her lethargic yet still possessing some of the sadism she reserves for male fans. Her nail rake your back, she gnaws at your neck, she hoarsely hisses foul imprecations in your ears as you fuck her; all of which drives you further into a mating frenzy. You can dimly register baying laughter and raucous encouragement coming from nearby, but you are unable to focus upon it as your brain melts until it is solely fixated on breeding Dami. So it is to little surprise that you do, howling as your seed pours into her sopping wet cunt, your balls aching as they spend themselves inside of Dami. Who moans as you inseminate her, shuddering as she climaxes from the sheer pleasure of getting bred by a filthy man like you. The fog roiling your mind seems to drain away with your semen, leaving you cognizant, yet still undeniably aroused. When you gather your wits enough to glance down to see how Dami is faring, you find that she is already fast asleep, snoring even as her pussy burps your load out onto the couch.

You turn to find yourself presented with the surprising sight of an upraised ass, it's owners head buried in a trash can and blubbering in torment. Yoohyeon and Siyeon lounge nearby, both of them now thoroughly flushed from both their sex, as well as the alcohol, taking turns languidly slapping the unknown butt. They nod encouragingly as you step closer, blithely urging you to mount the idol, even as you hesitate. Then Handong's head pops out of the trashcan, and she groggily demands you fuck her asshole, slurring as she happily welcomes you inside of her. Siyeon and Yooh chortle at this, obviously used to Handong's eccentricities, and you are further fortified as Jiu joins the pair and endorses the plan; just stick it in her butt already! So you do, pressing your slick cock against the surprisingly unresisting anus, sliding into the stuffy heat of Handong's asshole. Her moans reverberate out of the can as you start to thrust, moving slowly so as to not hurt her more sensitive hole. The trio watching you copulate with their fellow member, pass commentary on your technique as they pour out yet another round of drinks, liberally drinking as they masturbate to the sight of you fucking Handong's butt. Then a familiar softness squishes against your chest, and the reek of whiskey tickles your nose, as Gahyeon presses herself against your back; and whispers slyly to be rougher with her roommate. Unconsciously, your pace increases, causing Handong to grow even louder, her slit now slick enough to wet your balls when they slap against it. She whimpers, less from the pain of having her ass violated and more from the colossal headache she is currently enduring. Finally though, Handong lets out a weak shiver, before going limp as she passes out, her asshole losing any semblance of tightness as her consciousness fades.

The awake members of Dreamcatcher cheer as they drag Handong's head out of the trashcan and lay her on her side, letting her sleep off the alcohol coursing through her veins. Not that your erection had gone unnoticed however, Siyeon and Yoohyeon had staggered back to you and were already fondling it playfully. This time Yoohyeon is the one to take you in her mouth, sucking you enthusiastically as Siyeon toys with your nipples and makes you grope her perky breasts. Gahyeon pouts jealously from next to Jiu and Sua, but her elders are soon soothing her by suckling upon her swaying breasts and fingering her skillfully. Siyeon forces your head back to look at her as she kisses you as lustfully as before, except this time she means to seal the deal. She pushes you back onto the couch, causing Yoohyeon to let out a gasp of inebriated confusion as your cock suddenly flies out of her mouth. Siyeon bites her plump lip as she clambers atop you, rubbing your tip against the soaking folds of her pussy as she prepares to mount you. With a drawn out groan she shoves your now bulbous manhood into her greedy cunt, relishing every inch that slides inside of her. Yoohyeon meanwhile staggers over and starts to grope and kiss Siyeon, playing with her clit as her fellow idol awkwardly attempts to ride you while bearing Yooh's weight. So she settles for a more primal grinding, which was less satisfying than a rough pounding, but still hit her sensitive spots quite nicely. The constant rocking seems to be getting to Yooh however, as her stomach sloshes its contents around precariously until she finally unlatches herself from Siyeon and collapses backwards with a nauseated groan. Which frees up Siyeon for the final stretch as she unleashes her pent up lust upon your cock, twerking and bouncing wildly as she approaches climax. She moans sweetly as her pussy convulses, her folds clenching tight around your manhood and causing it to join her in orgasming, unloading your turgid sperm into the idol. She blows kisses at you as your seed leaks slowly out of her cunt, slowly rocking her hips in the afterglow of sex before gingerly unimpaling herself. Siyeon curls up next to the now resting Yoohyeon, cheerfully uncaring of the mess her sloppy pussy was making on the couch, and promptly joins her cuddle buddy in sleep.

Which leaves the Mom and Dad of Dreamcatcher, as well as their most tumultuous Daughter. Jiu and Sua though appear content to simply lay back and finger one another however, passionately embracing as their perky breasts press together. Gahyeon on the other hand... Gahyeon had been glaring lustfully at you the entire night, and now she could finally slake herself upon you. Gahyeon drains the tankard of beer with a single gulp before sauntering towards you, her face flushed from more than just the massive amount of alcohol she had consumed. Her nipples were fully engorged, her skin slick with sweat and fluids, her pert lips pouting provocatively, her hips swaying seductively as she approaches, her lower lips swollen with desire. Gahyeon doesn't even need to say anything, growling with desire as she forcefully kisses you before getting on her knees before your still undiminished erection. She nuzzles against your hardon, still sticky with Siyeon's cunt juices, as she licks your ventral shaft from root to tip, cleaning it with her tongue. You hump needily against her face, your cock desperate for a hole, causing Gahyeon to smirk knowingly; so she takes you in her mouth. What starts as a sultry blowjob swiftly descends into a furious face-fucking as you treat her throat like it was her pussy, relentlessly fucking it until your balls feel fit to explode. Gahyeon's eyes tear up as she gags and chokes, even an idol as experienced as her unable to breath with the ferocious pace you were setting. Then you suddenly pull out, stroking furiously as she instinctively opens her mouth and unrolls her pink tongue for you to aim at. You groan as thick reams of cum slop out onto Gahyeon's face, your tip pressing against her tongue as the thicker loads leak down into her waiting mouth. She swallows it all of course, before presenting you with her empty maw as proof that she had not wasted a single drop, even as her face remains painted with your seed.

Your head snaps up as Sua cheers your performance, gaily waving a bottle of wine as her fingers churn up her asshole. Jiu now fast asleep next to her. Gahyeon preens at her senior's praise, chugging a bottle of vodka as she leans back and presents you with her chest, with what she had been teasing you with all night long. Her massive breasts wobble precariously as you hesitantly reach over to touch them, shyly at first, but soon you are lustily groping those fatty spheres. Gahyeon gives you a perversely demure look as you maul her tits, her own hands busy at work between her squatting thighs. When you bring your throbbing erection closer however, she smugly takes over for you, squishing her breasts together to form a fleshy cavern for you to fill; spit dribbling down to lubricate her already slick skin. Moaning, you mount Gahyeon's cleavage, your cock swallowed up almost completely by her boobs as you pump between them; your bright red cock head peeking out during your deepest thrusts. She nods frantically, urging you to plow her fat fucking tits as hard as you can, to defile them with your thick cum, to use her body for your own pleasure. With such salacious words in your ears, your balls quickly rise to the occasion, and soon sloppy globs of cum are fountaining up over her rosy breasts, filling her cleavage with sticky fluid as you empty yourself between her boobs. Panting, Gahyeon falls back onto her knees and cleans you off, her cheeks hollowing as she slurps your cock back to its original length.

Gahyeon leaps to her feet, and hops back onto the table, scattering empty bottles as she opens her legs for you in wordless need. You rub your tip through her sopping folds, her slit beyond soaking as it gushes onto your cockhead. She whines in annoyance at your teasing, her legs snapping around your waist and pulling you against her, desperate for your manhood. You both groan as you finally push into her warmth, her pussy gluttonously devouring every inch of your rigid cock. Her legs quiver as she orgasms from this initial thrust, so pent up with arousal that she is unable to contain herself once you are finally within her. So you plow Gahyeon's dripping cunt, violently rocking the table as your sweaty bodies slap together, with the idol exhorting you go fuck her harder and faster. Her arms curl around your neck, your foreheads pressing together as you lock eyes, unable to look away from one another. Gahyeon lets out another deep moan, as once more her pussy spasms around your dick, holding you tight as yet more of her juices leak out onto the table. Trembling, you slowly pull out of her pussy, releasing a gush fluids from the idol's gaping hole, your cock now as messy as it had been before she cleaned it. You haul her off of the table, as Gahyeon gives you a bemused look before you turn her around and bend her over it instead, you want to go deeper. She gasps loudly as you mount her from behind, the staccato clap of her ass hitting your crotch reverberating around the room as you pound away. She claws and grasps at the table as you go into a frenzy, your lust as fired as it had been with Dami, plowing her so hard her voice becomes shrill and piercing. You spank Gahyeon's already ripe-colored cheeks until they burn bright red, clenching tight around her nubile waist to hold her steady as you violate the depths of her hole. Your strokes gradually begin to slow, becoming harder and deeper, causing Gahyeon to harshly shriek for your seed; the idol's brain gone blurry in her need for sexual gratification. Her folds grip your cock like a vice, making every movement painfully enjoyable, forcing you to stay deep inside of her as your sore balls pulsate once more. Gahyeon howls as your semen sputters into her fertile cunt, her own cries easily drowning out your own as she screeches in triumphal pleasure as her pussy is at last doused with cum.

You stagger backwards, followed by Gahyeon who unsteadily wobbles to the couch and collapses next to Siyeon, exhausted from both the sex as well as the alcohol. And you are much inclined to join her, but loud applause comes from the other side of the couch, as Sua cackles with delight from the show you had put on. Though it seems as if the idol herself had been engaged in a performance of her own, judging by the wine bottle currently buried halfway up her ass. You trudge around the table to crumple down next to Sua, who greets you cheerfully enough, though she does seem a touch disappointed as she fondles your now flaccid cock. She congratulates you for cumming inside all of Dreamcatcher, even if you needed a little chemical help to do so. She pulls your head onto her modest breasts, soothingly rubbing it as she woos you to sleep; just rest for now you can get cleaned up in the morning... After all, you will need you strength for tomorrow when Dreamcatcher release the video of you fucking them all senseless.

Oh did they forget to tell you that? Well don't worry, Insomnia is a relatively tame fandom, unless you just porked all of their favorite idols of course...

Sweet dreams!

#smut #kpop smut #dreamcatcher smut #gahyeon smut #jiu smut #Yoohyeon smut #handong smut #SIyeon smut #Sua smut #dami smut

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plushish · 2 months

Note

Adam with a reader who’s very witty and quick with comebacks?

just some silly pre-conference banter! | Adam x Reader

headcanon/drabble — how would Adam be like with a reader who is sharp-witted?

content & warnings — NSFW, fem reader, fem pronouns, fingering & cunnilingus, sexual act happening in a public place (workplace).

a/n — this takes place in some sort of office-setting, i dont know what goes on up there in heaven but i like to think its similar to what we've seen so far in hell, so i'm sure conferences aren't unheard of. i wasn't sure what format this idea should take, so it begins like a headcanon list but finishes up with a drabble. it's also rushed and i struggled with it a lot but. we ball!!!!!!

Adam considers himself to be a pretty funny guy, always dishing out 'sick burns' on others, but his pride gets hurt really easily. When it comes to a reader who can keep up with him in comebacks; he's definitely impressed by it, thinks it's hot as fuck, but he'd never openly admit it because it also a ignites a strong sense of competition in him.

The tension between the two of you is uncomfortably palpable, how you twist him through every conversation and leave him to stammer like a fool just when he thinks he's bested you. Watching him seethe is endlessly entertaining to you, it brings you satisfaction, finding your own sense of pride in seeing that bad boy persona crack little by little.

The two of you will be going back-and-forth every time Sera calls for a conference, taking up half of the allotted time with your back-and-forths, and everyone graced with the luck to have been summoned there just wishes the two of you would fuck already so they didn't have to keep sitting through this.

But he secretly likes it, your flippancy towards his status and identity as First Man, how you're always so quick to shut down his sleazy remarks with an air of arrogance, going toe-to-toe with his own. Cute.

Until one day, you finally give into him– He somehow manages to get you to fuck him, and for days after, his bragging around the office is incessant: "[Name] cries when she cums!", "Her orgasm face is just the cutest fuckin' thing, I mean could you imagine? Wait, actually don't, don't picture it–"

You start to get fed up, not only annoyed at his oversharing and his ceaseless bragging about things that simply weren't true, but because you hadn't even gotten to cum from the experience. Instead of confronting him, you had a plan in place that would get you what you wanted, so you instead opted to ignore the hushed whisperings around you all day.

...Until a little later, when you're in an empty conference room together, and he's sitting across the table from you. Licking the lid of his yogurt container with a smug look. Mimicking the disappointingly tepid treatment he'd given to you the night before.

"Should we... address what happened, [Name]?" He asks smugly, like it was a topic of business, leaning forward onto the table with his hands clasped together.

"No, I'm good."

"Noooo?" Adam's voice is as sugary as the extra pumps of syrup he'd overloaded his coffee with this morning in the breakroom. You'd seen that diabetes-inducing horror as it happened. "Why not? I feel like it's something we should talk about."

"Why?" You ask simply. "It happened, and that's it."

That gets him a little annoyed. Confused, too; why weren't you playing along?

"Didn't mean a thing to you, then?"

"Nah."

"Oh please, [Name]," he scoffs. He’s getting offended at the thought now, his wings giving a small flap in indignance. He’s supposed to be the aloof one! You should be begging for it to happen again.

"Don't fuckin' play. My dick gave you the best fuck you've ever had and now you don’t know how to feel."

“The best? At putting me to sleep, maybe. I did get a good nap out of it afterward, so.”

To Adam, the only thing better than your negative attention is your positive attention, and the only thing worse than that is your indifference. He hates feeling desperate, but you bring him to that shameful peak.

“You were on my dick like you had a fuckin' crush,” Adam continues to ramble on, trying to find a weak spot. “Fucking me probably meant a lot to you, huh?”

"I hump my pillow before bed and it means as much."

"Your pillow can't plow you like I do."

"No, but at least it actually gets me to cum."

Adam’s dick twitches in his pants. You know exactly what you're doing. Those words, delivered with that cruel flippancy he loves and hates so much, are precisely tailored-- All to drive him over the edge.

“Then maybe that was just a trial run,” He says after a long, fervent pause. "Maybe you need another taste."

You smirk a little, but only offer more disdain.

"No thanks, I've had enough to decide I'm no longer interested."

"Oh come on," He finally says. He's desperate at another chance now, he needs the validation of making you cum for his pride to be restored.

"Just give me one more shot?"

And so there you are, bottoms down, legs spread, Adam's fingers inside you, sitting on the edge of the table where a meeting is supposed to happen in about 25 minutes.

You're sopping wet. He drags a finger over your cunt before spreading it. "You're so cute, all blushing and shit. Makes me crazy hard."

"Your vocabulary is fucking terrible. Stop talking."

"You like it, though." He grins, teasingly lifting his fingers away from your aching cunt to show you your own wetness. You let out a small whine at the absence. "You sure you want me to stop?"

"Shut up, I said," You grab him by his hair and shove his mouth where you want it, aggressive and impatient. "-and start eating."

Normally Adam is not one to take demands like that. But in this position-- looking up at your stern face from between your legs--he obeys. He kisses at your cunt over and over, sweet little pecks like a first crush. The sensation makes your core tighten around nothing. Adam was not one to take his time; he was teasing you like this on purpose. You weren't having it.

And so pettily, you decide to say: "You can do better than that."

So naively, he does, he takes your dare and you're practically gushing all over the conference table by the time he gets in there and starts eating for real. Desperately suckling your clit between those smirking lips, that mouth that never fucking shuts up.

You cum with a satisfied sigh, as if you'd just had a good stretch rather than an orgasm on his face. He looks up at you expectantly, lips glistening with your aftertaste. Eyes wide and eager, waiting for the praise that is to come, only for you to lean in and whisper:

"Look who has a crush now."

a/n — pls forgive me for taking so long to answer this! i don't think it's exactly what you're looking for but i tried. it's more of an "adam with a reader who he has a sexually-charged, competitive work relationship with" type of deal. you just like to play with him and you know exactly how to make him desperate

#adam headcanons #hazbin hotel headcanons #hazbin hotel smut #hazbin hotel x reader #adam x reader #adam hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel adam #adam smut

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arminsumi · 8 months

Note

Hii can we pls get an extremely smitten in love like love sick gojo pls?????

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 ꒱

𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐤

A/N: ABSOLUTELY!! 🥰

Wc ≈ 1.7k

Pairing: GOJO Satoru x f.reader

Summary: the annoying popular boy at college has his heart set on you 😌💕

Warnings; it's a little cheesy

There’s a white-haired boy that always, always sits next to you in every single class. He’s got the looks that kill, one-of-a-kind features, almost too pretty to be on earth; the kind of boy that makes even teachers stutter in the middle of their lecture simply because of his presence.

So many girls fawn over him, like he’s the rockstar of your college with a bunch of groupies following wherever he goes.

And that ticks off one reason you don’t like Gojo Satoru.

The other reasons? To narrow it down; he’s an arrogant cocky flirty bastard who will not stop asking you out to parties and dates. Persistent and determined to make you crack and finally fall for him. Relentless and fast in his pursuit of your heart no matter how far it runs – he’s gonna getcha, he knows it, it’s just a matter of time.

He’s never felt this deeply or intensely. It makes his head spin. When you walk in the room, when you speak, when he sees your name on an attendee list… it has him feeling tingly and lightheaded. Even getting a text from you makes him jump; he replies in two seconds and pouts when you leave him on read. He even complains to his mom and Suguru about you.

This boy is the walking symptoms of lovesick.

But he’s in heavy denial about it. No, no – he’s not obsessed, you’re obsessed. He’s not crushing on you; you’re crushing on him. He’s not chasing you; you’re chasing him. He doesn’t wanna kiss you, you wanna kiss him.

“You have such a fat crush on me.” He smirks, talking unashamedly loudly so everyone who’s passing down the columned corridor can hear.

You sigh. “No I don't, Gojo.”

“It’s Satoru to you,” he winks, “And anyways, you’re not busy this afternoon, yeah?”

“Actually I am – ”

“Great! Let’s go out.”

Your whole face spells how frustrated you are.

“Oh my god…” you sigh, getting up for your next class which was in two minutes – Gojo took up all your time. Your friends had long slipped away after he gave them a glare, snickering as they did because they thought the whole thing between you and him was hilarious.

His long legs strode next to you down the corridor.

“Where are you going?” he asked.

“To class.” you replied.

“Let me walk you there.” he offered eagerly.

“Thanks, but there’s really no need.” you replied.

He looked at you like a sad puppy, so you gave in. “Oh my god, fine then.”

“Ask me nicely.”

“What!” you looked at him incredulously, “You’re the one who – oh my god never mind. Walk me to class, Gojo.”

He grinned in satisfaction. You almost wanted to smack him.

“It’s Satoru.” He corrected.

“I’m not calling you that. We’re not friends.” You said.

“Gosh, you’re breaking my heart!” he jokes, but deep down he was a little cut by that. You could tell by how he said no more smart remarks. He was silent.

You slid into your seat, watching your professor prepare the sliding whiteboards with awful scribbles of calculus. Gojo slid right next to you, settling his smart ass down a little closer than last time. He was aching to get closer to you in any way he could.

“I need a pen.” He whispered under his breath to you as soon as the lecture began.

“Seriously? Again? Where do you keep putting the ones I give you, up your ass?”

He smirked at you. Pretty blue eyes peaked over the rims of his sunglasses. You weren’t the only one to notice that he had them on indoors; the professor glanced over and immediately reprimanded him.

“Gojo, glasses off indoors, please. Don’t make me keep reminding you.” She said.

Gojo grumbled and reluctantly took them off, setting them down on the desk. You’d already began hastily scribbling notes, but all Gojo managed to do for the first ten or fifteen minutes of the lecture was drum his borrowed pen on his empty spiralbound notebook. He stole thirsted glances of you out of the corner of his eyes.

At some point his attention solely focused on you.

He observed you intently; the way you held your pen, the pace at which you write, your handwriting, how you leaned over just enough for your breasts to lightly squish against the desk.

“Hey.” He whispered to you.

You looked at him bemusedly. Ah, here he goes again. Fifteen minutes in and he has something to say to you.

“Can I copy your notes?” he asked.

“Seriously?” you whisper-shouted. The professor was so deep into her lecture about calculus that she didn’t notice Gojo starting to chat you up.

Asking to copy your notes was just his entry into flirting; what followed next was “I like your handwriting” and “so about that date…” and “there’s a party at my place this weekend…” and “wanna ditch this class together?”

“Satoru,” you said, “shut up, please.”

He shut up, not because you asked him to – he would have gone on and on despite your wishes, but you called his name. That took him aback so much so that he actually had to recompose himself and sit back, take in a breath, think for a bit. The way you pronounced his name had him in pieces.

Now came the part of the lecture where Satoru started making you laugh. You tried so hard not to, you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction – but he had a good humour, you couldn’t deny a few breathy laughs here or there.

His unwavering stare was so distracting. That and the fact he kicked his feet up on the desk. He took them down when the professor turned around, and then resumed his lazy position as soon as she turned back to the whiteboard.

“Satoru,” you began, “How is it that you never take notes and still pass?”

He shrugged. “I’m a prodigy. You’re sitting next to a real genius.”

You regretted asking.

He felt bad, so he gave you a small honest answer. “I cram at night.”

“Ah, I see.”

“Would be nice to have a study buddy…” he suggested.

“No.”

“But wouldn’t it be nice? Let’s study in the library later.”

“No – ”

“Okay! I’ll meet ya there!” he smiled decisively, choosing to ignore your decline.

The class concluded, and Gojo lingered by your desk waiting for you to pack up. Some lovestruck girls always approached him at that point, and he held small talk with them. He absolutely let their compliments fuel his ego.

You tried to take advantage of the fact he was distracted by them so you could slip out of the lecture theatre unnoticed. But he had good eyes.

“Oh, gotta go. Bye.” He said hastily, eyes locked on you like you were his target. He practically tumbled down the desk levels to get to you.

Just as you disappeared beyond the door, he caught up with you, lanky body colliding with yours on ‘accident’. You thought it was deliberate, but it really was an accident – he was so clumsy around you. He threw you a lopsided, apologetic smile.

That familiar sad puppy expression developed on his features as you walked quickly down the corridor and ignored him. Inside, you were bitter about how he bathed in those girl’s attention.

He had his hands behind his back. A peculiar thing – he usually walked like he owned the place with his hands swinging like a model on a runway. You stopped abruptly in your tracks when you noticed his deflated behavior. He bumped into you again.

“Hey…”

“Sorry.” He muttered apologetically.

“… wanna get lunch together, after studying?” you offered, feeling bad for how you ignored him the whole walk to the library.

His eyes lit up. “Yeah! Yeah… uh, yes.” He almost choked. “Absolutely.”

After that, he had a pep in his step as he followed you into the library.

Studying with him was super unproductive. He kept teasing your face, pinching your cheeks and ears to get your attention and then when he had it, he started rambling about something.

Then he pulled giggles out of you. He did such goofy, stupid things.

“Look.” He said, so you looked away from your textbook.

You shook your head.

He had balanced a book on his head and bit his borrowed pen between his pearly whites.

“Don’t put my pen in your mouth! I don’t want your germs.” You said.

He grinned.

You had to admit… that was an attractive smile. The way his Addam’s apple subtly shifted. The way his eyes lit up. The way his eyes creased.

He took the book off his head and the pen out of his mouth.

“You don’t want my germs?” he pouted jokingly.

“No, no way.”

“How are we ever gonna kiss?”

“E – excuse m – what? Huh?”

Gojo giggled. He threw that in just to see your reaction.

“You sooo wanna kiss me.” He teased.

“Uh… I don’t…” you swallowed.

“You’re such a bad liar.” He said, his tone shifting into a genuinely serious one.

“I’m not lying. I’d never kiss you.” You spoke.

“Yeah?”

He brought his face closer to you. So close you could see the subtle freckles on his pale cheeks.

“What would you do if I kissed you?” Gojo asked, peering at your soul with his eyes.

You stuttered, too stunned to response. What would you do? It was a genuine question, you could tell by the tone of his voice and look in his eyes. He really wanted to know.

“I don’t know…” you responded.

“Have you thought about it at all?” he asked. A slight nervousness shook his vocals. There was the smallest of voice cracks as he said ‘thought’.

Should you have been honest? You were looking into his eyes contemplatively. Was he trying to trick you? Was he gonna get an answer out of your lips and then humiliate you with it?

You just bit the bullet and said it.

“Yeah, I guess I have.”

His eyes searched for any hints that you were kidding. You got his heart thumping, his blood rushing around so hard he felt dizzy.

It looked like he wanted to kiss you really badly, but your phone went off and ruined the moment completely. The lovey air dissolved between you and him and he wished it hadn't.

While you hastily took your phone call, you noticed out of the corner of your eyes that Gojo had a boyish blush on his face.

Reblogs n' comments help a lot!! 💗😙

Visit my library ?

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jaylaxies · 9 months

Text

THE PATH TO A NERD’S HEART

PAIRING: nerd!jay × fem!reader

GENRE/CW: sub!jay, dom!reader, smut, fluff, unprotected sex, public sex, slight biting and marking, mentions of bullying, room sharing, kissing, handjob, mentions of sunghoon

WC: 8.1k (8169) words

SYNOPSIS: the annual debate competition was just around the corner and you were thrilled to meet your partner, who turned out to be park jongseong. from you studying together to him asking you how it feels to kiss someone, how would your relationship progress? especially when you offer to give him a demonstration, even more so when he asks if he could get a bit more.

WARNING: 18+ content, minors dni

A/N: hihi, angels! I'm back with another fic! i've re-edited this fic and i’m reposting as per the request of my anonnie! i hope y'all will enjoy this! :3 all likes, comments, reblogs and feedbacks are highly appreciated! it keeps me motivated! iloveyou all <3

“What have you done to her?” The principal sighed in distress, slightly turning his head, glancing at the girl who sat next to you with an expression filled with misery, a girl with a broken nose to be more precise.

“With all due respect, sir, she was bullying a student, which clearly goes against our school policies, and further, she tried to punch me when I asked her to stop. She had it coming,” you calmly explained the whole situation, fake politeness dripping off your tone.

The girl next to you screamed like a maniac after hearing your statement, flailing her arms and legs, claiming that you were the one who attacked her first. She never failed to show her spoiled-child behaviour in public.

“I request you to please check the surveillance camera of the corridor, it'll make it more clear to you, sir,” you faked your smile as Hana Lee, the bully, started crying, knowing that nothing could save her from the upcoming punishment now.

She was soon dismissed to go to the medical room, her wound bleeding, yet she didn’t show a sign to stop protesting.

“Miss Y/N, I understand that what Miss Lee did was wrong, but that does not give you any right to punch her.” He looked at you with an expression that clearly displayed disappointment.

“It was just self defense from my side, sir,” you said with wide eyes, plastering your most innocent face in front of him, wanting to leave his office as soon as possible.

He sighed, “you’re one of our top students, miss Y/N, and I appreciate you caring for the other students, but please refrain from using punches next time. You can leave now.”

You finally smiled in victory, muttering a ‘thank you’ before grabbing your bag and rushing out of the office.

As you got out of the office, a hand immediately grabbed your wrist, causing you to widen your eyes at the sudden gesture, your own hand curling its fingers to punch until you saw who it was.

He softly pulled you to the empty staircase area.

“I’m sorry,” he slowly whispered, he had a busted lip and red eyes, the sight made your heart hurt, a frown settling on your face.

“Jay! Oh my god! Does it hurt?” You asked, hand extending towards his face.

You barely knew the boy, in fact, your first ever proper interaction with him took place this morning.

“You shouldn’t have stepped up for me,” he sighed, eyes not meeting yours as he looked at his shoes, confused as to why you would help him.

“I don’t care what you say, I cannot stand bullying, Jay,” you simply told him, getting closer to see his wound, the wound caused by Hana.

Now, the question is: How did you reach here in the first place?

Let’s start by replaying the morning events.

The yearly Inter-school English debate was two months away from now. Meaning, that you’ll soon know who your assigned partner is for this year’s competition would be.

Your English teacher had asked you to meet her, so you made your way towards the staff room. You greeted her as soon as you saw her, eyes soon moving to observe a guy with specs standing next to her.

“Y/N, c’mere! Meet Park Jay, he’ll be your partner for this year’s debate competition,” your teacher explained.

You smiled, extending your hand which he shyly took into his bigger ones, “nice to meet you, Jay.”

Your radiant smile caused Jay to crack a small smile of his own, “it’s really nice to meet you too,” he said.

Further, the teacher explained how your school won’t be the host for the debate this year, instead, the Busan branch will be the one to do so.

Conclusively, she informed you that all your expenses will be paid by the school, except for the extra souvenirs you would purchase there for yourself.

You listened to it all, giving small nods at the end of her sentences, your eyes also shifting to look at the guy standing next to you, his gaze focused on what your teacher was telling.

A hotel will be arranged and she will accompany you both for your two day trip to the competition.

“The topic will be provided to you both soon, I hope both of you will get along well, please don’t hesitate to ask for any sort of help from me,”Ms. Hwang smiled at you both and ensured that you were okay with this setting.

Park Jay. You knew him, of course you did. He’s always been exceptionally smart in studies, him being the only one in school who matched your own pace.

The only difference between you was his shy nature. Your nature screamed enthusiasm and boldness, hence, making friends came easily to you. You were one of the popular students, not to mention how you were good at academics too, which was also paired with your kind nature.

However, you didn’t know much about Jay, except for the fact that he was good at studies and closed off, with little to no friends at your school.

This piqued your curiosity.

After Ms. Hwang left, you turned to look at the shy boy, asking him if he’d be up to eat lunch with you, to get to know each other better.

His eyes slightly widened at your suggestion and you theorized it must be because he never eats with anyone else, which worried you as you thought you had crossed a line.

His small smile just after, ensured that it was not the case, “I’d love to,” he said, and you noted how sharp yet cute his smile was.

The whole student body was shocked to see Jay interacting with the popular girl herself, their eyes fixated on your table.

It wasn’t your concern though, you were enjoying having a simple conversation with him, asking him about his hobbies. He got excited that you were willing to talk to him, not forcing yourself like the other students did. And he tried his best not to show how excited he was.

He told you about his love for fashion, his smile growing at each word he spoke, you found his deep voice pretty as you paid attention to everything he had to tell and offer.

He stopped his sentence midway, looking at you as you stared at him with shiny eyes.

“I talk a lot, don’t I?” His shyness came back to him all of a sudden.

“No! I think that it’s really beautiful that you’re so passionate about something, I could hear you speak about it for hours,” you reassured him, reaching forward to hold his hand which was kept on the table.

He breathed out softly, gulping at the sight of your joined hands and your reassuring smile, his cheeks heating up and a sudden warmth spreading through his chest.

Just one conversation and he already wanted to trust you, to spend more time with you, to get to know you better.

He looked forward to it all.

You wanted the same, to get to know him better. Jay was cute effortlessly, and you were quick to notice that even slight proximity made him nervous to the point his ears got red.

You found it adorable, promising yourself to keep a check on him to make sure he doesn’t feel lonely at school anymore.

So, when you saw Hana cornering and punching him for not completing her homework, you knew you had to step in.

He watched how you pushed her away from him, standing as a barrier between them both. He noticed how you raised your voice at her, the demeanour completely changed from the sweet one which you had in the morning.

He noticed how you didn’t hesitate to block her punch, your own hand swiming to counter punch her instead with no regrets whatsoever.

He stood there in awe, he knew was thankful to you, however, he was too shocked to even form words.

You turned back to look at him, his lip bleeding and his bloodshot eyes made you worried and angry at the same time.

Before you could say anything to him, you were dragged to the principal's office.

Which brings you back here.

Jay silently cried in front of you, “you don’t deserve this,” you softly said with a sad frown before hugging him

His hands grabbed your waist as he softly weeped into your shoulder, your hand rubbing soothing circles on his back.

You weren’t sure how long Hana had been bullying him into doing his homework, but now, you had this sudden urge of wanting to protect him, your hands tightening around him.

He calmed down after a few minutes, body still holding on to you.

��Thank you,” he softly whispered, taking a step back, his eyes meeting yours for a second before he turned away, rushing to leave.

He did not stop when you called out his name, thrice.

You sighed, stuffing your hands in the jacket pocket before leaving for the next class.

The boy never left your mind no matter how hard you tried to concentrate on the lecture.

The news had spread all around the school as the newest gossip. Some said that Jay was your new boyfriend, while some assumed you to be his bully. Nevertheless, no one bullied him after Hana got suspended for using violence in school.

Soon after, the theme for the debate was announced and Ms. Hwang had called you both to inform you about the same.

You observed his face, seeing him for the first time after that incident and you were glad to see that all his wounds were healed and didn’t leave any scars.

When he felt you looking at him, he turned to look at you, smiling softly to say hello.

After some minutes of general discussion with your teacher, she left you both alone as she had to grade other test papers.

You never brought up the topic of Hana again, only paying attention to the debate. Jay kept on glancing at you from time to time.

“Thank you,” he whispered shyly, passing you a bottle of your favourite drink, which made you tilt your head to look up at him, “I wasn’t sure what you liked so I asked Sora,” he rushed to speak, mentioning how he asked your best friend about it.

“You didn’t have to.” A smile graced your face at his sweet gesture.

He felt more confident talking to you now, and he even attempted to make silly jokes just to see you laugh, which you did, heartily at that.

Your hand grabbed his arm as you tried to support yourself while laughing. He found it beautiful and he wished to hear your laugh more often. Your hand felt soft on his arm, sending tingles to his stomach.

You hugged him softly before leaving, your sweet scent sending Jay into a state of frenzy, his ears turning red while his heartbeat felt faster than usual.

Being teased was like a routine for you now, your friends did everything in their will to constantly remind you how 'soft' you have gone for that nerd kid.

“Your jealousy is showing,” you smirked at Sunghoon, who repeatedly mentioned Jay in each of your conversations.

“Of fucking course! You haven’t kissed me in weeks,” he retorted.

It had been a while since you ended your friends with benefits relationship with him, you just couldn’t do it anymore, it felt wrong to you, seeing how attached he was getting with your setting.

Yet still, you decided to humor him this time.

Laughing at his pouty face, you grabbed his chin as you kissed him, trapping him against the lockers and he eagerly kissed back, not caring if anyone saw you both.

The makeout session was short lived as the bell was quick to indicate the time for your next class, a groan leaving his mouth as he punched the locker, muttering how nothing works in his favour.

You left him there, a boyish smirk spreading on his face when you winked at him.

You were breathless, but then you realized why you had left this in the first place, the guilt seeping deep inside you, knowing that it would lead him on if your suspicions were right.

You’ll say no the next time, that’s what you decided, not paying attention to the lesson the entire class.

You didn’t like him, you just needed a distraction from a certain someone who invaded your mind at the most random times.

You weren’t going to use Sunghoon as a distraction anymore.

You couldn't.

Jay met you at the library after school, for research purposes and collecting further information on your topic to be prepared as much as possible.

“Hey,” you smiled, hugging him, which had now become a usual thing for you two.

You noticed how he was a bit hesitant somehow, his arms not pulling you closer like they always used to.

Not paying much attention to it, you both got inside and searched for your respective books and topics, noting down all the information you needed. No words were exchanged for a long time, your focus solely on the text in front of you.

“How does it feel?” A whisper was heard from beside you.

“Excuse me?” You asked, looking up at Jay, confused at his unusual antics and sudden silence. “H–how does it feel to kiss someone?” He completed his sentence, not looking up at you while he kept fiddling with the hem of his uniform sleeve.

“Wait, you saw?” You asked him, eyes widening as you thought that he might have gotten the wrong impression.

You realized that he might have seen you kiss hoon earlier today, hence his question.

“Have you ever kissed anyone before, Jay?” You enquired slowly, not missing the way his eyes turned big for a second.

“N—no,” he whispered.

“Have you ever wanted to try it?” You softly asked.

Jay was probably the purest person you had ever met, the thought of corrupting him kept on swimming in your mind, the fact that he might want to try something with you made you smile.

“Will it be fine?” he hesitated again, “isn’t he your boyfriend?” He asked, referring to Sunghoon.

“What?” you almost shouted, apologizing once you got looks from the nearby students.

Maybe the library isn’t the best place for such conversations.

“He’s not my boyfriend, Jay. We’ve had something but it was not a relationship,” you revealed.

He listened to you with all his attention, a small smile on his face when you told him that you were single, which you didn’t fail to notice.

And he nodded, saying that he wants to try. His ears were red, which you found adorable.

“Of course, we’ll stop the moment you feel uncomfortable, yeah?” You assured him.

“But, here?” he kept on asking like a kid, his heartbeat beyond control as he tried not to seem too flustered.

You laughed, “we’re meeting at my place tomorrow, right? We can try it out then, if you’d be comfortable with that,” you suggested and he agreed shyly, nodding and looking down at his fingers.

You only looked at the pretty boy next to you, wondering how far he would want to go with you.

Jay was overwhelmed by the fact that you agreed to kiss him, he had been staring at your lips ever since he saw you kiss sunghoon in the morning, deeply wishing that it was him instead.

It was pretty strange of him to think this way, but he couldn’t stop, especially when he saw how you took control of the kiss, tilting Sunghoon’s head to the side and kissed him deeply.

You saw him looking dazed as you were about to leave, his actions being so cute, which left you wanting to fluster him more.

A cute yelp left his mouth as you softly pecked his cheek, tiptoeing to do so, before bidding him goodbye.

He blushed a lot in general, but you being around him took it to another level, you found it adorable to say the least, excited to see how he would behave tomorrow.

The next day, Jay woke up early. He wanted to look perfect, to smell perfect, to be perfect for you. Not that he needed to do anything, yet he did some extra research for the debate and printed them out for you, to make up for the time you’d invest to kiss him today.

He paid more attention to his clothes, for this would be the first time you would see him without his usual uniform. He even devoted his time to do his hair, finally reaching your place at the exact time you had given him.

Releasing his breath and cussing once, he rang the doorbell.

You were quick to rush down to open the door, not wanting him to wait for long, chuckling when you saw how he rang the bell at the exact time you had given him.

His breathing hitched as he laid his eyes on you.

It was the first time he saw you looking this comfortable as you wore a soft and loose top along with sweatpants.

“Jay! Come in,” your enthusiastic voice dragged him out of his daydream as he nodded.

He followed you like a lost puppy, “are you home alone?” He couldn’t help but ask.

“Oh, yeah! My parents come home late,” you explained with a wink, “don’t worry, baby,” you said and he almost passed out with the nickname you had used.

You smirked at his state, making him sit on your bed.

“You look good,” you complimented seeing his attire and he muttered a small thank you, a shy smile spreading on his face.

He likes to be praised, you noticed.

Without much delay, you started scripting your research papers. Jay noted how you were always serious when it came to studies and the competition, he paid attention to the way you bit your lower lip while concentrating.

Some part of him wanted you to do the same to his lips, he waited patiently for you to remember your promise to kiss him but you never once brought it up, his mood turning sad.

Taking the matter into his own hands, he spoke up.

“Can we—” he took a deep breath as you stared at him with big doe eyes, urging him to continue.

“I—it’s nothing actually.” He backed away.

You laughed, “I didn’t peg you to be the impatient type,” you smirked, well knowing what he wanted.

Closing your laptop, you urged him to come near you, patting the space next to you.

“We’ll start off with a simple peck, yeah? Pinch me if you feel uncomfortable and I'll stop,” you told him and he shivered as you got closer to his face, gulping his anxiety down.

“May I?” You finally asked, searching his eyes.

“Y—yes,” he whispered, nodding.

Softly placing your hand on his cheek, your lips touched his lips in a short peck. They merely touched, yet it was enough for Jay to get butterflies, heart beating out of his chest at the sensation.

You leaned back to observe his reaction, he still had his eyes closed, a soft rosy glow spread on his cheeks.

Getting closer again, you grabbed his chin, tilting his head as you dived in to kiss him, longer this time, your lips moving in sync once he got the hang of it, low whine leaving his mouth, making you smile.

You wanted to play with him even more.

So, you gently bit on his lower lip, causing him to gasp, giving you enough opportunity to taste him.

It felt so right yet, forbidden somehow.

You had invaded all his senses, you pushed him down on the bed, his eyes looking at your every move as you made him lean against the head frame, you sat down on his lap and he cussed.

“Does it feel good?” You asked with a small, teasing smile.

“Fuck, y—yes it feels so good,” he whispered out.

“Yeah? So good that my good boy is using bad words now?” You teased.

“Please,” he whined, “sorry, I’ve never done this before and it just, it felt so good I couldn’t help it,” he rambled and you shut him up with a peck.

“Lord, you’re so adorable. It makes me want to ruin you,” you breathed out, brushing his hair away from his forehead, gripping his chin and running your thumb on his swollen lower lip.

His heartbeat sped up at your words again, head dizzy as he said, “please,” and you pulled him into a deep kiss for the second time.

Your fingers softly tugged on his hair, finally causing him to moan out loud, his pretty voice resounding all over the room.

You both pulled back from the kiss after a few minutes, breathing hard and deep to come back to your senses.

“How was it?” you asked him in a gentle voice, sitting down next to him, slightly worried if you had gone too far for his first time.

His stare on your face and silence only made it worse.

“Can we do that again?” He asked after a few seconds, trying not to sound too shameless, but he couldn’t help it, not when you had offered to kiss him so nicely.

He slowly pulled the hem of your top, and you understood, coming back to kiss him, your hand on his jaw, as he shifted his position for you to take full control.

He laid underneath you as his heart pounded harder than ever, he could only focus on how soft your lips felt against his mildly chapped ones, his eyes closed as he took in everything you were willing to offer.

The said practice of your debate ended with you making out with Jay, he didn’t wish to stop, not even after his lips were swollen, his eyes shining as he looked at you as if you were a goddess.

He had to excuse himself when his cock felt painfully hard, he was beyond embarrassed and you looked at him with hooded eyes, holding yourself back before it gets too much for him.

“Here’s the washroom,” you guided him, “let me know if you need help,” you said with a smirk.

“I—thank you,” he rushed to go inside.

You knew what he was going to do, and you wished it was you who’d be the one to please him instead, his voice wasn’t silent when he took your name, as he reached his orgasm inside the washroom.

You chuckled, wondering how he’d look while doing so into your hand. He left soon after, face red and hot.

It left him wanting more.

The debate was a week away from now, and you both were well prepared for it yet, you kept on studying from your notes. That wasn’t your concern right now though, a certain nerd had occupied your mind from the past few days.

You found it adorable how he would request you to kiss him in the empty classroom, his room, or any place where you both were alone, he wanted you guys to be alone together.

You were corrupting him, and truth being told, you wanted to corrupt him even more.

Jay had always been attractive, his knowledge was a plus point to it all. You absolutely loved his shy demeanor, no matter how comfortable you both got with each other, he could not help but blush around you.

Meanwhile, Jay was confused. He had never had girl problems before, so why did it feel so different when it came to you? Even more so when you were so good to him.

He loved how you took care of him in the most minimum way possible, you made him feel like he mattered, giving him motivational speeches (and your kisses were a cherry on top).

He knew it really well that the other students wanted to date you, or they wanted to be closer to you. Why wouldn’t they? You were perfect in their eyes, but this did not stop Jay from wanting more. He wanted you to claim him yours. You were beyond perfect in his eyes.

But he wondered if you’d ever be willing to like him back, to be with someone like him. Kissing was one thing, maybe you did it just to make him happy, but more?

He could only wish.

“All participants from the same school will be given one room to share, will it be okay for you both?” Ms. Hwang informed you both, also asking for your comfort.

Jay stiffened, he was sure to lose control if left alone with you at night.

“It’s alright for me ma’am,” you smiled.

“Yeah, for me too,” Jay shakily let out.

He wanted this, he finally decided, he’d even go as far as confessing his feelings for you.

“Alright then, I’ll see you tomorrow morning, right?” Ms. Hwang confirmed as you both nodded, you had to leave early tomorrow for the competition.

As you walked back home with Jay, saying that you’d drop him off, you spoke, “are you sure that you’ll be comfortable?” you asked as your fingers were interlocked with his, giving him butterflies.

“You’ll take care of me right?” He asked in a low whisper, suddenly stopping and looking at you.

He definitely meant more than the normal care but you were willing to give him anything.

“I will,” you promised with a smile, “I’ll take care of my pretty boy,” you said before pecking his lips and leaving him blushing on the sidewalk.

The next morning, he didn’t have to wake up, for, he didn’t get to sleep. That’s how excited he had been, the fact that you were going to be in the same room as him at night made him blush.

His excitement only grew when he saw you at the station wearing a skirt, it was short lived as Sunghoon came into view, holding your hand, holding your luggage with his other hand.

Jay frowned at the sight.

Sunghoon looked like your boyfriend with this setting, he did not like it a bit.

You spotted Jay in a second, smiling and hugging him without thinking much, it was not returned though.

You bit down your smile, making him jealous seemed like a great idea to you, knowing well how adorable and needy he is.

Naturally, Hoon got a cheek kiss as a goodbye while Jay had a frown plastered on his face, almost like a pout.

Your teacher came to the station soon, informing you that her seat is not near you both and telling you her seat number so you can approach her for anything you’d need.

You nodded and thanked her before getting into the train, which arrived right on time.

You sat down next to him on the express train, which gave you two hours to spend with him.

“What’s wrong?” You innocently asked him, your hand resting on his thick thigh.

“N—nothing.” His breath hitched as your hand neared his upper thighs.

You softly massaged that region, “you’ll be a good boy and tell me, won’t you?”

He shivered with the tone you had used, your hands making him feel weak in the knees.

He rushed to keep his backpack on his lap to hide his private area in case something went wrong.

He whined your name as quietly as possible, “tell me what's wrong, baby?” you asked again.

He grabbed your hand, staring at you with doe eyes as he placed it high up on his thigh, near to his hardening cock.

“Not so fast,” you said as you moved your hand away, “you’re not getting anything until you tell me what’s bothering you,” you urged him.

“I was jealous,” he whispered, red adorning his face.

“Yeah? Go on,” you hummed, softly brushing your fingers in his hardened and clothed member.

The thrill of you touching him in public only made his cock hard.

“You kissed Sunghoon,” he whined, placing his head on your shoulder, trying to calm himself from the pleasure he was receiving.

“Yes I did, and what about it?” You sped up, placing your hand on his cock, thankful that he had covered himself using the bag, so that others won’t be able to see you both.

It caused him to squirm in his seat.

“I—I wanted it too,” he struggled to form words.

“Being needy, are we now?” you chuckled as he softly moaned into your neck.

“What more do you want, pretty boy?” You asked, pleasuring him.

“Your kisses, y—your touch and—ah! You,” he barely spoke.

“That’s my good boy.”

You continued your actions for a few minutes, allowing him to release his mess without you having to touch him directly.

You looked at him in awe, you wanted him to be yours. Your baby boy.

“You did so well, baby,” you cooed at his teary face, kissing him swiftly.

“Go and clean up in the washroom, yeah?” You said and he nodded, somehow making his way towards the room.

He was clingy the entire ride, and it made you smile as you gave him all your attention.

“Did you like it?” you questioned.

He bit his lip, “yes, I did,” his answer was short as he was shying away again.

“How cute,” you said, “get me a list of things you like, yeah?” you requested him just before getting off at your destination.

The whole ride to the hotel was silent as your teacher was with you both, Jay still couldn’t think straight, his mind going back to when you touched him and how devastatingly good it felt.

“Here’s your room key, you are both free till tomorrow, so you can roam around a bit but be careful! Don’t forget to meet me at the same place at 11 am sharp with your proper attire on tomorrow,” Ms. Hwang commanded and you both nodded, leaving her to settle in her room.

After washing up and changing into comfortable clothes, you both sat down side by side at 9 pm. You noticed him writing something, but didn’t ask what it was, only looking at his face which had a cute pout, an expression he held whenever he was focused.

You settled down and scrolled through your messages on the phone to pass your time, even though deep inside, you wanted to spend time with Jay.

He soon came up to you, calling your name softly as you looked up at him.

He gently placed a note in your palm.

“I made the list,” he said, referring to the time you asked him to make a list of the things he liked back on the train.

You raised your brows, “come here,” you patted the place next to you before you grabbed his chin, making his heartbeat rise again.

“Let’s see now.” Holding the note in your other hand, you started reading, “degradation and praise kink? Oh, so you want to be called a dumb slut now?” you saw him nod and shiver, enjoying the way you called him a slut.

You wanted to ruin him.

“Choking? Who would have thought that our president ‘good boy’ would be into such filthy stuff,” your hand traveled from his chin to his neck, putting in a bit of pressure just enough for it to feel pleasurable.

Jay whined at the constricted feeling yet his eyes never left your face.

“You wanna be tied up? Cuffed even? And used as I wish?” Your eyes widened after reading his fantasies, the list amusing you beyond words.

You knew that Jay was willing to try stuff but you never expected it to be this wild, you loved it and you bit your lips as you looked his way.

“Please?” He requested you, eyes innocent.

“What do you want me to do, baby boy?” you finally asked as he gulped, coming closer to whisper something in your ear.

“Want you to touch me, please.”

“Like this?” You pulled him closer by the neck, your hand traveling down from his torso to his lower abdomen, and you noticed how he shivered with your touch.

“I—yes,” he let out desperately.

Switching to a better position, you got close to him, almost sitting on his lap as your fingers further trailed up to his mouth.

He was quick to part his lips, taking them in and sucking on your two digits, your head tilting as you noticed how devoted his look was, tongue swirling around your fingers.

“How cute,” you commented, amused with the boy, the same boy who you thought was innocent, however, that wasn’t the case.

All he wanted to do was to please you, and he wanted you to call him yours.

Your other hand rested on his thigh, soon going up and resting on his hard on, causing him to moan around your fingers.

“My needy pup, do you want me to take care of you?” You asked, loving how he reacted to your touch.

As you softly touched him through his sweatpants, he unconsciously jerked his hips forward, suppressing a moan.

“Let me hear it, I need your answer,” you slowed down your actions, causing him to whine.

“Yes! I w—want that so much,” he said out loud, as you took your fingers out of his mouth, wrapping them around his throat.

“Good, now, don’t move, and don’t you dare suppress your pretty noises, am I clear?” you asked for confirmation.

He nodded swiftly as you removed his pants.

His hard member came into view, thick and veiny, begging to be touched. Jay bit back his moans as you teased his tip with your thumb, your fingers wrapping around his length before you bent down to softly swirl your tongue on it, your eyes never leaving his.

“Fuck,” he cursed out loud as you took him in your mouth.

“Good boys don’t use bad language, do they?” You said slapping his dick. Your slender fingers gripped his neck again, this time capturing him in a passionate kiss.

“Y—yes,” he whispered against your lips.

“Open your mouth,” you ordered and he complied, you spat in his mouth, observing how it traveled down his tongue, “swallow it.”

And he did, opening his mouth again to show you the same, causing you to smirk.

“Such a good slut for me.” You kissed him as he whimpered at the degradation coming out of your sweet mouth.

He also whined at the lack of your attention to his cock.

He was needy, and you loved it. You had wanted to take care of him from the very start, seeing the boy in front of you, all naked, you wondered how he’d look full of your lipstick marks, which you’ll leave on his sweet hickeys.

You slowly started stroking his cock again, taking him in your mouth whilst massaging his balls. His breathing got heavier by each second, face red and voice shaky as he took your name sweetly.

Tears stained his rosy cheeks due to the immense pleasure he received, it was unlike ever before, his hands never felt this good, this perfect.

What made it better was the fact that it was you who was touching him, who was making him go crazy.

He liked you so much.

You felt him twitching and you got down to take him in your mouth before saying, “cum in my mouth baby boy,” and he did, moaning your name in the process as you hungrily gulped everything he had to offer.

You got up with a small smile on your face, seeing how he had closed his eyes, lip bitten and his chest heaving up and down.

You softly cupped his face, his eyes opening with your gentle touch.

“How are you feeling?” You asked him with a small smile, thumb caressing his cheek.

“Euphoric,” your laughter bloomed at his answer, a shy smile on his face, “can we do more?” He asked.

Your eyes softened at how vulnerable he looked at the given moment, and you knew if you’d do more, then you’ll probably won’t ever let go of him.

You kissed his forehead, “win that debate with me tomorrow and I’ll give you your victory gift, alright?”

He whined, not wanting to wait till tomorrow, but agreed nevertheless.

“C’mere, let’s get you cleaned up.” You took him to the bathroom, asking him to stay still as you cleaned him up, ensuring that he felt okay and you laughed whenever he felt ticklish at your touch.

“Can we cuddle at least?” He asked before sleeping, he loved being close to you. He had given you most of his firsts without any hesitation, and he was willing to give you even more. You grinned and took him in your arms, you both drifting off to dreamland soon.

Jay’s heartbeat clearly out of control as he only got closer to you, taking in your scent and watching you sleep, softly saying.

“I wanna be yours.”

The next morning was in a frenzy as you both tried to cramp up last minute information before your awaited debate.

Jay kept shying around after last night, and you had to pull him back and ask him to look into your eyes, making him laugh.

You couldn't help but notice how hot Jay looked in a black blazer, wondering if it was the same guy who begged you to touch him last night.

More importantly, you were also aware of that one girl who kept staring at Jay as you waited for your turn at the big auditorium where the competition was being held.

She was just behind you in the line, meaning, she might be your rival team for the final round, where you had reached with ease, courtesy of Jay.

Not being able to handle her constant stares and shy whispering about Jay, you rolled your eyes as you turned to him, calling out his name.

He turned to look at you, his face looked so innocent it made you want to smile, that’s the exact second you decided to peck him, tips of his ears turning red instantly

“W—what was that for?” He asked wide eyed, checking if someone saw you both.

“Just a good luck kiss for my baby,” you spoke loud enough for the girl to hear. A satisfactory smirk rested on your face as you saw her frown from the corner of your eyes.

Your turn came by soon, you listed out all the cons about the given subtopic with Jay smoothly.

However, you got stuck at the doubt round where the judges had to ask you questions, it was smooth until that one last question came up, which you had no idea how to answer.

You looked at Jay with worried eyes, but he kept his composure, remembering that particular piece of information from that one morning he made extra notes before going to your place, which he answered with full confidence, earning applause from the seated judges, and also you, a proud smile adorned your face.

You were sent back to the waiting area where you gushed about how cool Jay looked while answering with such confidence.

“It’s nothing,” he said, trying to act as if his ears weren’t turning red at your compliment.

“You’ll always be my shy baby,” you gently laughed.

He adorably rested his head on your shoulder as you praised him for being so intelligent while waiting for the result declaration.

“Now, for the most awaited first position, congratulations to ms. L/N and Mr. Park, from the Decelis Academy, Seoul!” The announcer declared.

You hugged him with joy, taking his hands in yours as you went on stage to accept the trophy, your teacher cheering and clicking pictures of you both from the audience seat.

Jay was overjoyed, somewhat because of winning the competition, but mostly for the reward that awaited him tonight. You both hugged again and got your trophy, Ms. Hwang treated you to dinner afterwards, being proud of you both and informing your principal at once.

Now that you were alone in your hotel room, without any distractions, you could easily see through Jay and how he was trying his best not to mention the reward you had promised you’d give him.

You smirked.

“My baby is so smart, shouldn’t he be rewarded now?” You asked, getting closer to him as he gulped down his nervousness.

“Please,” he breathed out.

“Please what, baby? Use your big words to tell me how you wish to be rewarded?” you encouraged him.

“Please, I want you,” he whimpered.

Your hands wandered around his torso, unbuttoning him one by one just to test his patience. He started helping you unbutton him, but you stopped him grabbing his cheeks.

“Did I give you permission to do anything?” You asked sharply while he shook his head, saying no.

“Be a good boy for me, yeah?” He nodded as your lips captured him into a deep kiss, your fingers gripped his hair while he held on to your waist, low hums and grunts were heard as you started grinding on him.

“Fuck me, please!” He cried out loud,

“Undress me,” you ordered.

He shakily took off your white blouse, leaving you in your lace bra, his eyes fixated on your body, and how pretty you looked in lace.

“Can I touch you?” He asked for your permission, you nodded.

He removed the remaining of your clothes and softly trailed his fingers down your body, as if trying to memorize you. Holding his hand, you guided him towards your wet pussy.

“Prep me, baby,” you instructed him as he hesitantly touched your core, spreading your juices in a circular motion.

He observed how you bit down on your lips and closed your eyes. Getting further validation from you, he pushed in a finger, slowly pumping it, he soon added another digit, his fingers curling inside of you sending you into bliss.

You felt your high nearing, “fuck, Jay I want to cum on your cock,” you said switching your positions so that you were straddling him, he cried out loud as your wet cunt came in contact with his throbbing dick.

“Moan louder, babyboy, tell everyone who the winner is tonight,” you said against his lips.

That let him loose, lewd sounds filled up the room.

“Louder,” you encouraged him, finally letting him enter inside you.

Your walls clenched around his thick member, adjusting to his size. You looked at him for permission.

“Please, you can move,” he allowed you.

Without wasting much of a second, you started riding him, your tits bouncing up and down in the process.

Jay couldn’t think straight anymore, his mind was corrupted by you, small dumb mumbles leaving his mouth and he loved how you were being equally soft and rough with him, considering it was his first time.

“Moan louder before I stop,” you threatened him, finally causing him extra stimulation when you clenched around him.

The pleasure was enough for his tears to run free, his cheeks blotchy with red speckles all over, and he moaned, just like you had wanted him to.

“Good boy,” you kept muttering, loving his sweet and needy voice.

“Let me cum, please?” He asked for your permission.

That is when you got off him.

“Not so fast, baby,” you replied with a peck on his lips.

Harsh whimpers left his mouth as you slowly stroked his leaking dick for the next few minutes.

“Please,” he begged after he couldn’t take it anymore, his dick twitching with how close he was.

“Impatient slut,” you slid into him again, your walls contracting around him, it was too much for him to take in.

You fastened your pace, “I’m about to—” he cried.

“Hold it in,” you warned, loved how he closed his eyes shut.

It was so fun teasing him.

You decided to be a bit gentle with him now that he was close, just like you.

“Cum inside me, love,” you encouraged

With a few more bounces, and his thrusts from below, he muttered a string of curses, emptying inside of you as you reached your high just a moment later.

You cupped his cheeks, not getting up but looking deep into his eyes.

“You did so well, I’ll arrange a nice hot bath for you to relax, yeah?” you softly caressed his cheeks.

He weakly nodded, still high from the activities done minutes back. Soon, you helped him into the tub, sitting on his lap as you softly washed his hair for him while he stared at you with stars in his eyes.

“What’s it?” you quietly asked, a small smile on your face.

“Thank you,” he pecked you, this time with adoration, catching you off guard as your heartbeat rose.

“I did nothing,” you smiled at him as he returned it.

You traced his red bruises, applying lotion to them and giving him a massage as well. Jay was thankful to say the least, eyes on your face.

“You’re staring,” you noted.

“You’re pretty,” he said, lowering his eyes as he did so.

“God, you’re so cute.” You kissed him softly, a shy smile gracing his face as you wrapped him in a towel.

“Come on, let’s sleep,” you patted the space near you.

“Can we cuddle?” he excitedly asked and you brightly nodded, taking him into your arms.

The room was silent, however, it felt comfortable, especially when you could feel Jay’s warmth in your arms.

“Y/N?” He called out your name.

You hummed, “yeah?”

“What are we?” he asked as he sat up to look at you.

“What do you mean?” you asked, also sitting up.

“I—what’s our relationship?” he gulped as he asked that, not sounding too confident, wondering if he’d be rejected.

“What do you want us to be?” you questioned, raising your brows.

Being with Jay was like a rollercoaster, you had grown a liking to him, more than you would like to admit.

His demure ways made you adore him, but he never hesitated to put a brave front for you and those cute efforts of his made you fall for him even more.

“I want us to be more than just friends,” he admitted.

You had bewitched Jay since the day you first talked to him, and the feeling only grew. He looked forward to spending time with you and soon it turned into yearning. He wanted to hold you in his arms and call you his, not wanting to share you with anyone else (ahem, Sunghoon), the phase might have been of only two months, but that was enough for him to fall for you.

“What’s more than friends?” you teased.

He pouted without even trying to, wondering if you were trying to ignore the topic because you didn’t want him, but seeing his expression, you frowned.

“Be my boyfriend,” you suddenly blurted out, not regretting it after.

Jay’s eyes widened comically, “w—what?”

You took a deep breath and laughed lightly, “Jay, baby, you’re so precious to me. Fuck! I like you so much, please be mine?” you expectantly stared at him.

His lips turned upwards and into the biggest smile you had ever seen on his face as he leaned forward and kissed you wordlessly, conveying his answer through it.

The kiss was deep and meaningful, “yes! yes, yes!” he squealed as you kissed him again.

“Hey, boyfriend,” you smiled.

“Hey, girlfriend,” he spoke with confidence, melting your heart as you pulled him down and into a hug which soon turned into a cuddling session.

Both of you fell asleep with smiles on your faces, your arms holding him tight.

Even after the competition, he couldn’t help but miss you every second of his day, texting you constantly, calling you at night just to stare at you during the two day holidays you had gotten.

The next time you met was after the competition was three days later at the school.

Jay saw Sunghoon approaching you, but he was faster as he stood in front of you, causing your eyes to widen at his sudden entry.

“Hi, baby,” he cooly said before placing a kiss on your lips.

You laughed at his childish behaviour as you see Sunghoon fuming from a distance.

“Getting protective, are we now?” you raised your eyebrow.

“You’re mine,” he tried to sound authoritative, but his voice came out in a whine.

“I’m yours,” you laughed, kissing him softly.

Safe to say, Sunghoon left after the little show Jay had put up and soon, the whole school knew about you two dating, half of them crying about how wrong the pairing is, you couldn’t care less though.

Jay was everything you needed and more, and you were going to cherish him for the rest of your life.

THANK YOU FOR READING!

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permanent taglist open! comment or send an ask to be added <3

#fic : the path to a nerd’s heart #enhypen hard hours #enhypen smut #jay smut #enha smut #jay x reader #kpop smut #enhypen imagines #park jay smut #sub!jay

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clanwarrior-tumbly · 2 months

Note

hi there, could I get poppy playtime (if that is to many characters then just catnap and dogday are fine) with a reader that has pica (if you don't know what that is it is where a person can tend to eat or bite on things not edible, like paper, erasers, eca)

I can do a few!

.....

Huggy (saved/rescued) + Poppy

While in his "idle mode" on the podium, he sees you munching on a piece of paper like lettuce and then plush stuffing like it's cotton candy.

And then you just snatch the key from him and move onto the next puzzle, and he goes "???????"

Why did you eat those things? Did they somehow sustain your hunger?

Huggy only gets to learn more after you save him from falling (and tame him with an actual edible snack you brought along), taking a breather after freeing Poppy from her box.

When he grabs one a random paper, you assume he wants to draw something as a way to communicate...until he starts chowing it down.

In his mind, humans DO eat paper and he's been starving and cannibalizing toys (and trying to eat you) for nothing...

But then he spits it out, picking shredded bits out of his teeth, before glaring at you as if you told him to eat that.

You're a little scared and confused until Poppy explains that he was only trying to mimic what you do, and she asks why you eat such random little things.

Eventually you explain to the pair of your condition called "pica".

You've had it most of your life, with an official diagnosis to boot, but it never really hurt your digestive tract.

Over the years you've cut the habit, although being stuck in this factory meant you had to find other sources of food...even those not even considered food at all.

Some of your coworkers knew about it, and their only complaint was the occasional eraser going missing thanks to you (which you deny stealing...most of the time).

"I always joke about having a cast-iron stomach," you tell the toys. "Food is the least of my......"

But you pause and look at Huggy, realizing he might be offended by you shrugging off food as negligible to your survival.

No matter what, though, it's not gonna stop him from trying different non-food items and seeing what tastes good.

He might've eaten pieces of clothing and plush fabric/stuffing over the years, albeit none of it was delicious by itself.

Dogday

"They want nothing more than to crawl beneath your skin and eat away at you bit by little bit--fill what feels empty inside themselves."

"Jesus, that sounds horrific." You say as you crunch on a piece of chalk (one of several that you got from the schoolhouse) nonchalantly.

Dogday takes immediate notice and is rather concerned. He knows the chalk and crayons here are made to be non-toxic, but insists they're not safe for human consumption.

He fears it's gonna kill you and begs you to stop, saying you needed to live.

Before you could fully explain your condition, the mini-critters are closing in, so you free him and haul ass out of the playhouse of horrors.

After making it somewhere safe where you could patch him up, he presses you on why you continue to eat all these foreign objects.

But he jumps to the conclusion that you got desperate after running out of food, going mad from hunger like the other toys did...

He recalls Picky Piggy going through something similar, and he gets a bad flashback to the Hour of Joy when he had to stop her from eating Crafty's paint....and the corpse of a Smiling Critter -

"Dogday? Hey stay with me..it's okay. I'm here, I'm here.." You console him, calming him down from his panic attack. "I'm not going crazy, alright? I just have this small condition called pica."

"...p-pica? Oh. I thought...kids grow outta that.." He mutters, finding familiarity with that term.

He's had his fair share of toddlers putting things in their mouth that could be choking hazards.

You shake your head, explaining that it stuck with you, but it doesn't cause your stomach any pain as long as you're careful about what you eat.

Dogday's relieved you're not losing it.

Even so, though, he's gonna feel nervous if he catches you eating another piece of chalk.

But it's just his instincts as a child caretaker, so you couldn't blame him.

Catnap

He hangs out in the shadows for the most part, watching your every move...and he does pick up on your strange habit of eating non-food objects.

It's something orphaned toddlers in the playhouse often did, and he'd see the other Smiling Critters hurry to take the items away from them before any emergencies happened.

But those memories mean nothing to him.

All he's doing is waiting for you to eat the wrong thing and keel over.

Unfortunately for him, you just keep trudging on, munching on a crayon like it's normal before throwing your gas mask back on.

He doesn't know how you manage to stomach so many things, and honestly is kinda envious.

Why can't he and the others sustain their hunger like you did?

It does make for some rather..amusing situations, though. Such as when you're in the smoke factory and use the elevator to escape him.

You just stand there as the doors close, eating some chalk and crunching it loudly without breaking eye contact with Catnap's horrific eldritch form.

Obviously, you're stress-eating at that point, but he doesn't have to know.

Miss Delight

The schoolhouse was like a cafeteria for someone with pica, aka you.

While looking for generators, you just pick up whatever you find: erasers, chalk, crayons, etc. and start biting them, or even chewing and swallowing them.

It only succeeds in angering Miss Delight right away, as she sees you doing all of this and snaps at how "childish" you are for eating things you shouldn't.

But you when shout back that you have pica, the PA system suddenly goes quiet.

Like Dogday and Catnap, that definitely triggered some memories for her, which she dwells on for a while before realizing you were still in the school..

And seeing you eating stuff makes her howling stomach grow louder.

"Barb" says you're mocking her own hunger, especially since she notices you gathering the notes she left around the place, and insists on killing you.

When you finally do encounter her, she is visibly disturbed by you crunching on a piece of chalk and throwing it to the ground to distract her, buying you time to break eye contact and flee.

She calls you "crazy", but you're not the one chasing her with a weapon made of a ruler and colored pencils.

#clanask #poppy playtime x reader #ppt x reader #huggy wuggy #dogday #catnap #miss delight #platonic #headcanons #pica

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luvhughes43 · 3 months

Text

so it goes | jack hughes

[journalist!au masterlist⭐️]

the previous part is linked here !

word count: 6.5k

jack hughes had thin curtains. you would think that a 22 year old millionaire would invest in good curtains, but alas here you were. the sun shone into his room, and you could do nothing but groan as rays of warm light illuminated your face and his.

you swore jack was a cat with how completely unbothered he was all the time. he’d happily lay and soak up the sun, not bothering to twist away from the light now encasing the room. you look over to your daughter, who slept exactly like her father. leighton was sprawled out on her back, completely content as the sun shone off her.

“you need better curtains,” you mumble, too awake now to fall back asleep. jack snores lightly in response, and so you move to drape one of leightons baby blankets over the top of her bassinet to help shield her from the light.

“where u goi-ing?” jack's speech is slurred, and you watch with butterflies as he stretches out across his bed and paws at the empty space where you once were resting. It felt wrong to want him. nothing had happened last night, and yet you were wanting him as if it were two years ago and you hadn’t broken up with him. you wish one of you had been smarter and been the first one to pick up the phone.

speaking of phones, you pick up yours only to see a slew of messages from friends. you click on claudia's first, and your heart immediately drops.

claudia: i think vivienne was talking about you and jack on her podcast??

claudia: idk she said Jack may have cheated and now ppl are going crazyy

claudia: this is genuinely insane when I catch vivienne…

you: did she mention my name?? did she say anything about leighton ?

you wander out into the kitchen, perching on an island stool with your lip between your teeth.

claudia: link

claudia: no she didn’t drop names but people are digging. some of jack's fans on twitter are putting the pieces together and speculating that you're the ex but it hasn’t gotten out yet.

you: wtf

as soon as you send the last message your phone rings with a call. “hello?”

“what are we going to do about this?” claudia's voice rings out through my speaker and you hastily turn the volume down.

“well, there's not much that I can do right now”

“uh, you can sue her ass! hello!”

“sue her for what?

“i don’t know… defamation?” you put claudia on speaker and then swipe up on the call. you do a quick search on twitter, and by screenshots and transcripts it's clear the podcast was solely focuses on jack and whether or not he cheated. “i’m not going to sue her,” you sigh and claudia groans in annoyance.

“why not?”

you take a second and pause, “well if i sue her everybody would know that i was the ex and also, i don’t even think there’s legal grounds for-”

“okay jack can sue,”

“i don’t think anyone needs to sue,” you reply, setting your phone on the countertop so that you can make yourself a coffee. hopefully jack had some pain meds because your head was starting to throb…

“i’ll talk to Jack about it, but things like this go away. i’m not going to risk leighton getting exposed to crazy fans and to be subjected to vivienne's publicity”

“vivienne has already damaged that little girl's life,”

“and so I'm not going to let her do anything else! if vivienne speaks on leighton then i'll look into my legal options. but no, i'm not going to let her get any more of my time. i need to focus on my daughter, and my family, so if some influencer wants to go on the internet spreading lies then so be it! i’m done with her. I can’t handle any more than i already have,”

claudia's silent on the line and for a brief second you're afraid she’s hung up the phone. “claudia…?”

“she’s going to get her karma. she can’t be let off the hook forever”

“oh, trust she will. but i’m not going to have a hand in it,”

⋆ ★

vivienne

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vivienne as promised… some exciting things are coming your guys’ way! follow viv212 to stay in the loop! 💆🏼‍♀️🍾

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oliviajade cant waittt!! <3

alisha youre stunnninggg ! cant wait to have you on the pod!❤️

user01 ahh so excited to see what u have in store viv!!

user02 we know what u did!!!

user03 ?

user02 don't question me.

claudiasphotos posted 2 years ago !

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claudiasphotos yn 📸🥂

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ynuser love you!!! thank you for the incredible photos🫶

jackhughes ❤️‍🔥

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user04 jacks heart?? the tag?? is this his ex gf

user05 wait what

user06 claudia is yn’s friend! they both follow each other

user05 maybe yn just modelled?

user07 how tf did u guys find this acc? Im crying there's no way😭😭

⋆ ★

when jack found out about the podcast episode he was beyond pissed off. vivienne telling everyone that he was a cheater was one thing, but spreading those lies knowing that she helped keep him away from his daughter… he had never felt rage quite like it.

“i’m getting lawyers involved,” is all jack says to yn when he passes her phone back to her. “i don't want her speaking about us ever again,” jack’s voice is steady and firm.

“what are you asking the lawyers to do?”

“sue her, make her take down the video, i don't know they’ll find something,” jack rambles, pulling out his own phone from his pocket.

“i just want to make sure that she doesn’t speak about leighton,” you say, deliberately choosing not to say vivienne's name.

jack looks away from his phone to make eye contact with you. “i swear i’ll make sure of it,”

“thank you,” you respond simply, cradling your head in the palm of your hand. when was this nightmare going to end.

⋆ ★

“you’ve got to take the video down,” viviennes manager, louis reiterates for the tenth time.

“well, no” vivienne sasses as she scrolls through her social blade. “it’s pulling in insane numbers i’m not taking it down because of one complaint,”

“lawsuit, it’s a lawsuit vivienne” louis sighs, cursing himself for even taking influencers on as clients.

vivienne sighs dramatically. “i dated jack for months, the video should be my compensation”

“his lawyers want you to sign an NDA,”

“well i’m not signing or taking down anything,”

theres a tense silence for a minute before louis groans in frustration. “he doesn’t want you talking about his kids,”

“kid. singular. he only has the one,”

“can you stop being difficult? you’re going to lose more money than you’ll gain if you don’t just settle with jack. delete the video, and sign the NDA that his lawyers are going to send over,”

“but-”

“but nothing! your brand is dropping next week. if you delete the video now people will be tuned into your next moves,” louis explains his business plan, even though he’s mentally cursing vivienne in his mind.

“fine.” vivienne stubbornly admits defeat as she switches off her social blade and logs into her podcast channel.

⋆ ★

it was the beginning of december now, and jack’s schedule has picked back up now that he was back to playing. as well as the busy schedule, vivienne had finally signed the NDA jacks lawyers had sent over, and with her podcast episode scrubbed from the internet all was well for the moment.

on jack’s days off it wasn’t uncommon to find him at his ex-girlfriends place, which is why when y/n got off work she didn’t bat an eye that jack was chilling on her couch with their baby in his arms.

“did you pay the babysitter?” you ask absentmindedly as you shrug off your coat and let your work bag drop to the ground.

“yes i did! isn’t that right leighton? daddy paid the sitter?” jack coos, eyes never straying from the little girl in his arms. leighton giggles loudly, her little hands smacking at her dads cheeks who grins in delight.

“thank you!” you call out as you round towards the kitchen. “are you staying for dinner?”

jack gets up off the couch and settles himself in the kitchen. leightons little hand grips at her dads shirt, the other tugging on his finger. “do you mind?”

“no,” you reply softly, and when you look up from the pantry you catch eyes with jacks. you immediately feel delighted and delirious at the sight of him (looking handsome) with your girl resting happily in his hold. “leighton, do you want daddy to stay for dinner?”

“dada!” leighton squeaks, and both yours and jack’s heads whip towards the small girl.

“did you just say dada?” jack giggles, his face lit up with pure joy.

“dada!” she says again, wiggling in his grasp.

you gasp, “our baby’s first word!” and rush to be by jack’s side. he looks up at you fondly before using one of his arms to bring you closer to his side. “leighton! say it again, say dada!”

leighton doesn’t respond this time, just giggling happily at her parents' happy words and sounds of encouragement. “she said my name,” jack whispers sappily, and when you look at his face you see tears line his eyes.

“she knows who her daddy is,” you smile tearfully, leaning your head against jack’s who leans his against your chest.

“i’m so happy i get to know her,” jack’s voice is quiet as he gazes at his daughter. he still wasn’t over the fact that he missed your pregnancy and the first few months of leightons life, but hearing his daughter call for him certainly helps ease some of the sadness.

you don’t reply to jack’s comment, knowing that there’s nothing in the world that you can say that would erase any of the past. so instead you brush your hand through jack’s hair, and enjoy the happy moment.

⋆ ★

vivienne

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vivienne so beyond excited to announce that my haircare brand viv212, is being released next friday! please follow the viv212 account for updates, posts, and product info before the first launch! i love you guys so much! mwah <3

tagged: viv212

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alixearle loveeeee

alexandracooper Cannot waitt!!

user08 AHH VIV!! <33

user09 saving up as we speak🫂

user10 another influencer brand… we do NOT care!!

⋆ ★

jack’s voice rings out through your phone's speaker, his face half in view as he brushes his teeth and gets ready for bed. you guys were just talking nonsense now - you had both put your daughter to bed a long time ago but jack didn’t get off facetime like you had expected him to.

you were both distracted which if claudia asks, is your excuse for staying on facetime with him so late. because really, you were catching up on work and it just so happens that jack was talking to you in the background.

“do you think if i started reading now then my brain power would double?” jack asks absentmindedly through a mouth full of toothpaste. he spits, “quinns doing it and he says he feels smarter. but i don't know,”

“i don't know about double… but it’d definitely help!” you tease, looking up from your mounds of documents to catch jack pouting at you.

“that's kind of mean!” he replies as he rinses off his tooth brush. “but whatever, what are you doing for the holidays?”

you watch silently as jack pulls his phone off the hotel bathroom counter, and tosses it on his bed. you stare at his hotel room ceiling as you reply, “my parents are going on vacation so i’m just gonna stay here. do you have any plans?”

jack picks up his phone - shirt noticeably gone - before he settles himself in his bed. “my family’s gonna fly in to jersey. quinn’s coming too. it’s just easier with our schedules and luke and i being here already,” he responds, and you nod along to his words. you missed the hughes family. they were so unlike your family growing up. their parents were present and not always gone for work, and it felt so nice to be around siblings who weren’t constantly at each other’s throats.

“that’s really nice,” you hum. “i have a few days off during your break. you should pick a date when we’re both free for your family to meet leighton,”

“mom’s so excited,” jack chuckles. “i keep sending her photos and videos but it’s never enough,”

“your mom’s so sweet,” you smile, leaning your head in your palm as you look at jack. “she texts me everyday just to check in and wish me well,”

jack smiles back, and you would pay any amount to know what he was thinking. “quinn’s excited too. luke keeps teasing him about how he met the baby first,”

you roll your eyes - that was such a luke thing to do - and before you can reply there's a sharp succession of knocks at your door.

“are you expecting someone…?” jack asks with a frown, and you shake your head.

“not that i know off… one second,” you walk towards the front door and if you had brought your phone with you you would have seen the worry and concern etched on jacks face.

you look through your doors peephole, before shouting a quick, “it’s just claudia!” which causes jack to visibly relax.

“just claudia” the woman in question mimics as you finally open the door. “who are you talking to,”

“jack,” you reply, and claudia rolls her eyes dramatically as she pulls her shoes off and wanders over to your phone.

she waves at jack, before telling him that you have to hang up. you barely get a good-bye in when she’s hanging up the call and turning towards you with a grin. “you're still talking to jack? at 9:30pm on a monday…” she teases, and takes your spot at the counter.

“we were putting leighton to bed!” you refute, ignoring the knowing looks your best friend was sending your way.

“uh-huh,” she shakes her head. “you’re unbelievable!”

“no i’m not! that’s my daughter's father! who, by the way… was her first word,”

“yah yah, if auntie c were easier to pronounce she’d call my name first,” claudia laughs before composing herself. “but seriously y/n, you guys broke up for a reason. you can’t just forget all about that now that you see him with the baby,”

“i’m not getting back together with him! it’s different now. we’re just friends,” you defend pathetically, knowing very well that you were already re-developing feelings for your ex.

“i just want you to be careful,” claudia stresses, grabbing a hold of your hands and pulling you into the chair next to her.

“i wasn’t in the right headspace last time. i was insecure and i-”

“he was still liking other people’s posts and staring down models babe, just be careful please,” claudia reiterates.

you nod, knowing that she was ultimately right. “we have better communication now. we’ve grown,”

“whatever you say!” claudia wraps up the conversation, before diving into the reason she actually came over. “okay, but i logged into my photography account and people are starting to connect the dots that you’re, well… you”

“what do you mean?” you question, picking up all of your work documents and placing them back in your bag.

“there’s a few instagram comments speculating. jack left a heart comment on one of my posts about you when you were still dating, and his fans have just found it now. do you want me to go private? delete the comments? i don't know,” claudia explains, pulling up her photography instagram and scrolling through the comment section of said posts.

you think for a minute, before responding simply, “keep it up, i don’t really care”. claudia nods and logs out of the account.

⋆ ★

drama.alert

liked by trevorzegras, and 11 913 others

drama.alert people have finally received their viv212 hair products after a massive delay in shipment, and unfortunately the product is causing their hair to fallout :/ despite being asked to comment, vivienne nor her team have responded to the accusations. not the best way to start a brand is it? what are you guy’s thoughts?

tagged: vivienne, viv212

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user11 whoever buys haircare from an influencer deserves it lowkey🤷‍♀️

user12 yikesss😬 looks like the products were rushed and there wasn’t a lot of time to get the formula right… i hope everyone who lost hair grows it back quickly. what a shame.

user13 i honestly can’t believe she hasn't spoken up yet. the people who bought her products were all fans so this is just soo disappointing. she better apologize and start refunding people soon or she’s going to lose A LOT of loyal fans and viewers.

user14 YUP! this! and did u see the pr reviews? lotss of acting going on lol. you can tell that nobody likes the products and it's obvious as to why! very messy and not good at all.

user15 trevor? wtf are you doing here??😭

user16 he stands on business

user17 trevor is so damn messy liking this im cryingg

user18 who tf is trevor?

user17 jacks best friend lol

user18 ohh that's so nasty..😭

vivienne

liked by mikaylajmakeup, tanamongeau, and 68 002 others

vivienne i hope u guys are loving all the products! let me know if u guys got anything💐

tagged: viv212

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viv212 😍😍✨

user19 yeah girl we did get products… AND NOW MY HAIR HAS STARTED TO FALL OUT!

user20 this is so out of touch. you’ve ruined so many peoples hair!! apologize!!!

user20 youve really shown ur true colours lol.

user21 posting this as if u haven't ruined so many of ur fans hair… wow..

user22 ignore all the hate viv! I know u just haven't seen the reviews! take all the time u need to respond <3

user23 bffr she's just money hungry and dgaf if she ruins her fans hair for money. shes weird af

⋆ ★

if you thought work was rough before - with all the bad articles you were given- you weren’t prepared for what was waiting for you on monday. after a peaceful weekend with your babygirl and your best friend claudia, the last thing you were expecting was to receive the worst case you’d ever been assigned.

“y/n, we need you to cover social media drama today,” your boss had said. there were a million headlines rushing through your mind, from small scandals to non-disclosure disputes, you hadn’t even considered you’d be assigned to write about… viviennes new brand.

“i mean, are you fucking kidding me?” you whisper-shout to claudia through the phone. you were pacing inside the girl’s washroom, disbelief written across all your features as you stare perplexed at the folder in your hand. “her brand is making peoples hair fall out. and i have to write about it… this is a joke. this actually can’t be real,”

“are you even allowed to write about her? with jack’s NDA and everything?” claudia asks from the bathroom stall at her work.

“i mean, it was just about leighton and my identity, and the whole jack cheating thing, i don’t think it applies to this,” you're beyond stressing. the story had to be finished by lunch and here you were, pacing the bathroom borderline having a panic attack. “i think i’m going to pass out,”

“okay breathe! breathe!” claudia's voice was loud and clear on the other line. “you’re just going to write the article with indifference, and everythings going to be fine!”

“indifference? she fucking kept jack from finding out about our baby and harassed me?” you seethe, stopping in front of the sink to splash your face with some water. “this article is going to be so biased,”

“regardless of your history, she's an asshole. i mean she’s literally causing people’s hair to fall out,” claudia states, flushing so her coworkers don’t get suspicious of her long bathroom break.

“i’m just going to write it and i’ll call jack once he's out of practice,” you settle, knowing there is really no way out of your work. even if you told your boss you had a history with vivienne and that there was going to be bias, they wouldn’t care. they just wanted the story posted so they’d garner as many clicks as possible since it was going viral right now.

“okay, good luck! love you,” claudia says her goodbyes, and with a quick i love you back, you hang up on your best friend and prepare to write.

⋆ ★

you had called jack after his practice, but with the articles deadline hastily approaching there was nothing you could do to delay writing the article. jack of course understands, offering a quick, “i’m sure she won’t read it anyway,” before he was called back into whatever a hockey job required on the daily.

once the article was published on the newspaper's website, and vivienne hadn’t outright harassed you, you take a deep relieved breath before continuing with the rest of your day.

⋆ ★

of course, vivienne the lurker had seen y/ns article about her hair products. she’s seen every little message and video about the whole situation, and so as tempting as it is to find y/ns number and send her a… compromising video of jack, she resisted. instead, she took her anger out on her manager who insisted she sign an NDA in the first place.

“you made me sign that stupid document! now i can’t even say anything about her! she's slandering my name and brand!” vivienne yells, fuming as she paces around her office. her manager, who was sitting on one of her chairs, rolls his eyes.

“you wouldn’t be able to say anything regardless of the NDA. you know you’re in the wrong with the whole, y/n-jack-baby situation. and plus, lashing out at journalists won’t do you any good when you post your apology,”

“it's not fair!” vivienne whines. “what am i supposed to do? she’s just going to get away with this?”

“your interns and i have worked up a statement for you to record. you should probably try and get ahead of this now before it's too late,” her manager finishes, placing a small packet of papers on vivienne's desk.

“whatever,” she huffs stubbornly, leafing through the small apology packet.

⋆ ★

after a rough two weeks, it was finally time for the rest of the hughes family to meet baby leighton. ellen and jim were beyond ecstatic, carrying armloads of gifts for their granddaughters first holiday season.

the family comes to visit after leightons nap, so for the grand reveal you sit the family down in your living room and bring your daughter to them. “awh… she’s so sweet!” ellen immediately starts to tear up as you slowly place the tired baby in her arms. “leighton baby,” she coos, finger tracing leightons little nose as the baby looks up at her. “she looks just like jack when he wa a baby,”

“she’s perfect, guys,” jim speaks next, gently holding little leightons hand in his larger one.

quinn sits quietly just taking in the sweet moment. he remembers the night jack first called him, panicked and lost about the whole situation. he was just so glad everything was working out for his younger brother, and to see jack become a father? it was surreal.

“i don’t think i want to let her go,” ellen laughs softly as tears spill down her face. jack discretely wipes away his own stray tears as he watches his parents fall in love with his daughter.

“that’s how i felt when i first met her too,” jack laughs weakly as he presses the corner of his sleeve into the corner of his eyes. you stand close behind him, rubbing his back comfortingly and he leans into your touch. every time you were reminded of what happened, you felt such a strong pang of guilt. like it was somehow your fault that jack didn’t get to experience the pregnancy, birth, and first few months of his baby’s life.

ellen passes the baby to her husband, and then slowly makes her way over to you. she holds out her arms, and you easily walk into them. “you did so good,” she says, and all of your feelings bubble to the surface as you softly cry.

“i’m really sorry,” you whisper to her and she only holds you tighter. “i should've tried harder - i thought that he didn't want to be in her life,” you gasp through your tears. ellen squeezes you and whispers reassuringly in your ear. she was always so kind to you and it made you feel sick sometimes - this family loves so thoroughly and effortlessly, something you missed from your own parents.

when your calm enough, you remove yourself from ellens arms. jim was now cuddling leighton and quinn was leaning over his shoulder. luke was teasing jack about something, having already met leighton a long time ago. when jack notices you're no longer hugging his mom, he grabs hold of your hand and gently soothes his thumb across the back of your hand.

you spend the rest of the evening in your apartment surrounded by family.

⋆ ★

ynuser

Liked by jackhughes, trevorzegras, claudia, and others

ynuser leightons first holiday season🥹🤍

tagged: jackhughes

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jackhughes to many more!❤️

colecaufield did you get the gifts i sent?

ynuser yes! leighton loves all the habs merch!

jackhughes but she loves the devils more!

trevorzegras cant wait to meet her!❤️

_quinnhughes lee is the cutest!❤️

claudia loveee😭😭🫶

user1 happy holiday sweetheart!

jackhughes added to his close friends!

⋆ ★

after viviennes less than impressive apology, her fans quickly gave up on the star. people who were only invested in vivienne for the jack hughes drama, grew bored, and angry fans were boycotting viviennes videos and social media platforms to show the influencer their disappointment with her behaviour. she lost thousands of followers, and she was absolutely pissed off.

behind the scenes, her friend emily was fuming. vivienne had promised her a shoutout on her pages in order to boast the girls social blade, and with all the recent drama vivienne kept pushing the dates. so, emily did what she thought was best.

REDDIT SNARK PAGE

user455595654: vivienne aiden sent nasty messages to jack’s ex girlfriend while she was dating him from random instagram accounts. here are some of the tamer ones lol. she drunkenly confessed to me one night and i got her to send me ss to keep as collateral incase she fucks things up as usual. so there's that

jack hated you so bad that he couldn't stand being a father to his child... and you know that he wants to be a dad in the future. gonna make him a dad and send u the pics. know ur worth nothing

he never wanteddd you... and know he doesnt want his baby

happy birthday to your baby! thought i'd send u a message since we know jack's not.

crazy that you get to look at your babygirl and know that she was abandoned. probably hurts

he's all up on me :)

⋆ ★

“did you want to take any of the clothes leightons got for your house?” you ask jack as you fold leightons laundry. jack’s family and friends went a little overboard with the gifts, and so now you were left with dozens of little onesies and clothes in various different team styles.

jack glances over at you and nods, and you can’t help but wonder what’s got him so distracted. he’s barely taken his eyes off his phone in the past half-hour, and even though it was none of your business you were starting to worry.

“do you have any preference?” you follow up, hoping to get at least a response.

“uh,” jack tears his eyes away from his phone and takes a deep breath. “i’ll uh, whatever you think,”

you sit in silence for a moment, thumbing quietly through your daughter's pile of clothes before deciding to question jack. “okay, what’s going on is there-”

“did uh, did vivienne…” you pale immediately at his words as your heart starts racing. “the messages she sent you uh,”

“what-”

“someone posted them online and i just - they got sent to me and i need you to confirm if they’re real of if someones just fucking around,” jack finishes shakily, and you sit in shock as he passes his phone over to you with unsteady hands.

there were so many messages, each taking you back to when you first received them. you remember the panic each time a new one came in, how you kept blocking viviennes accounts and how a new one always replaced it. you nod slowly, and jack breathes in.

“i’m going to- i-” he stutters, cluelessly trying to piece together a coherent plan.

you pass his phone back, and slowly focus your gaze onto jack. his hands are trembling, and his jaw keeps clenching as he scrambles to make sense of what he’s been reading. “why didn’t you tell me it was this bad?”

“i’m sorry,” your voice is quiet and jack has to strain his ears to hear you. the familiar pang of guilt wells up in you again and you so desperately wish that you had just told jack the full truth. that there were dozens of more messages, and that you had been receiving them for much longer than you had let on. that you received instagram follow requests from accounts impersonating your coworkers and friends in attempts to bait you to accept them. you knew vivienne was borderline stalking you, but you didn’t want to worry jack further. you witnessed his reaction to the first batch of messages, how he gagged and cried and blamed himself. you shouldn’t have hid the rest from him, but you didn’t want to be the one to expose him to all the hurtful things you were dealing with. you wanted to put an end to the past and to move on, but it seemed vivienne and whoever was in her close circle were determined to keep you hooked and battered.

“is there anything else? i want to know everything,” jack replies, his hands twisting together as he fidgets. you nod slowly, and jack looks sick with worry as you beckon him to sit down.

you take a deep breath before pulling out your phone. you still had all of viviennes messages saved in your dm requests, and you click on one of her burner accounts. “she uh, sent me these pictures after i had given birth,” you explain with a shaky voice. when you pass over your phone, jack sees all the lewd pictures his ex had sent to you. pictures of the two of them, cropped so you couldn't make out the faces but it was still so blindingly obvious. some of the pictures were tame, jacks back to the camera as he cooked with a simple caption “he’s so sweet to me❤️”. others not so much - dark lingerie, jacks hands wrapped around viviennes body and cupping her boobs. a picture of his head resting against her naked chest, her hand buried in his hair. it went on and on, all with annoying captions talking about how he was hers and that he didn’t want a family.

the worst picture though was of an unused pregnancy test sitting in the palm of viviennes hand, “he’ll love our baby!❤️” .

it took awhile to go through everything, and jack sat unusually quiet as he switches between different message threads. “i, i don’t know what to do,” jack admits after you had showed him everything.

“there’s nothing that you can do,” you reply simply.

“i didn’t get her pregnant,” he states, completely disregarding your reply. “she was just being cruel and trying to bait you or something-”

“jack i know-”

“and you know that if i knew about leighton i wouldn't have abandoned her, and those pictures, i didn’t know she was taking half of them let alone sending them to you, i just-”

you place a hand on jacks arm, silently urging him to stop explaining. “i know,”

“i’m just- learning about all of this for the first time-”

you let your hand trail down jack’s arm, and then you slip your hand into his. you squeeze twice, and then run your thumb along the width of his hand - a habit you picked up when the two of you were dating. jack squeezes back.

you don’t have time to say anything else before leightons soft cries spill out of the baby monitor. “da-da,” she whines, and when you turn to look at the monitor you see her thrashing around in her crib.

“i’ll get her,” jack says with a gentle tone as he squeezes your hand one more time.

you cuddle into your throw blanket, completely and mentally exhausted from the night's events when you hear jack’s soft voice through the monitor.

“i’m always gonna be here for you okay? dada will always be here,”

“i love you my sweet girl, always.”

⋆ ★

he had liked her. he had actually liked vivienne when they were together and the thought makes him feel sick.

jack had first met her two months after his breakup with y/n. it was way too soon in his opinion - but his teammates were relentless and tired of his moping around. so, instead of picking up the phone and dialing y/ns number he had agreed to meet the girl everyone seemed to think would be a good match for him. and she was at first, it was simple and there were no complicated feelings. jack didn’t promise to be anything, and vivienne was fine with that. there was no pressure to stay hidden, they went out and had fun. not that y/n didn't go out, but there was a clear difference between both girls and jack wasn’t mad about it.

that didn’t stop him from thinking about y/n though. he still had a photo album dedicated to their pictures together, and he still had her favourite music neatly organized in one of his playlists. he never deleted the list of her favourite things from his phone, never unpinned the addresses of the new museums, art galleries, and coffee shops they wanted to try. jack hadn't done anything at all, instead he let himself drift and he found some comfort in a girl he wasn’t sure he even understood properly because really, there were two sides to vivienne aiden and jack didn't have a strong grasp on either.

now that he was with y/n again, or at least raising their daughter together, he can’t help but feel the urge to get to know her again. he wanted to do everything a boyfriend would do, but the timing was always wrong. they were parents first now, and it was way too soon to start a relationship up again.

plus, they broke up for a reason. jack would be the first person to admit that he was in the wrong. liking other girl’s picks and lingering on girls in public… meanwhile he had the most amazing girl he’d ever met on his arm. he felt like such a fucking idiot, and ruminating on those facts on the drive back to new jersey seemed like a constant these days. his communication was awful too, not apologizing and not realizing the problems sooner. now he faced those consequences, driving an hour each way to spend time with his daughter. he should be there all the time, or they should be here - whatever.

traffic stalled, and jack sat in uncomfortable silence. no depressing country song would even come close to how awful he was feeling right now. then when he got home he’d be faced with luke and his family, all doped up on all the quality time they were fortunate enough to scrape together between everyone's busy schedules. he was so tired, and everything just seemed to keep piling up. he didn’t want to hide anymore, he was tired of vivienne dictating his life and making y/n feel awful.

therefore a week later with your permission and before jack boarded his flight for his roadie, he posted a simple but effective instagram post.

jackhughes

liked by trevorzegras, colecaufield, dawson1417, and 361 299 others

jackhughes baby’s first holiday season❤️

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trevorzegras does she love the duck teddies i sent?

colecaufield little love bug🐞

dawson1417 my best girl !

_alexturcotte dads a dad🫡

holtz_10 bring her to the rink when were back

_quinnhughes best duo💯

lhughes_06 tell everyone who her favourite uncle is (it's me)

nicohischier happy holidays!❤️🎄

user24 WHAT THE FUCK?????

user25 JACK?? DAD??? IM SO CONFUSED WTF

user26 this has to be a joke

user27 im crying so hard is he actually a dad?? this is my worst nightmare omfg

user28 congrats on the baby hughes! being a father is hard work but its rewarding!

user29 who’s the mom??? vivienne??

user30 no its 1000% his ex. look jacks name up on twitter and you’ll find all the threads!

user31 omg…

user32 im in disbelief i think i passed out what the ..

user33 this HAS to be yns baby omfg. If u compare the backgrounds of these photos it’s literall her apartment

user34 ? how tf do u know what her apartment looks like?

user33 it’s the same background in her friends pics of her

user34 that sounds genuinely psychotic im sorry!

user35 DAD JACK DAD JACK DAD JACK

everything had already gone viral with vivienne, and there was nothing else for jack to add to the public speculations aside from be truthful. so he worked behind the scenes to protect his family, and made it known he wasn’t hiding or playing anymore.

vivienne got what she deserved, and her career would surely be over with the massive amount of hate she received, and jack knew it too. the countless voicemails she left told him enough, and with every swift delete and the final press of the block button - he felt a massive weight lift of his chest.

#journalist au!#jack hughes x reader #jack hughes imagine #jack hughes fic #jack hughes blurb #nhl fanfiction #nhl imagine #nhl blurb #nhl fic #quinn hughes x reader

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