#was crying about this during the game. okay bud well done go get a line change pat pat.

[yanderenightmare]

dude I would kill for more DADDY DEKU, the last one gave me liffff, maybe like... "embarrassed to ask".... some anal?? plez and thank you Mizz Nightmare <3 I love all your work!

yandere dom ! MIDORIYA IZUKU

TIP-JAR

goodiebag WARNINGS: condescension, degradation, coercion, profanity, abuse, DUBCON/NONCON, yandere, manipulation, suggestive language, slight infantilization

BUNNYHOLE

She’d started to lose track of how much time passed during their session, forgotten what she’d done to get in the position she was in, forgotten what it was Deku felt the need to remind her of. Too much blood rushing to her head in her position of kneeling over his chest, her ass arched up and her face pushed down, cheek resting on his pelvis, running her tongue up and down the length of his cock nuzzling in her small palm, lips locked and sucking on the pulsating veins bulging from his erection. Or perhaps it was her way of forgetting where she was, her way of escaping, becoming numb to spare herself the humiliation, the frustration, the hopelessness and desperation of being subjugated, of being taken against her will, where becoming mindless was her only option when being in the hands of the madman.

Deku’s larger than life hands held onto her hips, held her in place, stroking the dome of her ass affectionately yet wantonly every now and again as his mouth swallowed down on the juices starting to spill drizzly down her thighs. Fat fingers, lined with muscle, coming to delve ghostly over her folds, with his tongue prodding at her entrance. She’d managed to block most of his praising and coos out of mind, focusing on coming, yet now… having lost count of how many times she’d done so on his experience dedicated tongue, with her oversensitivity blaring and buzzing in her lower abdomen, gnarling and crying for it to stop, it was getting harder by the minute to forget where she was and who she was with when he was still so very intent on lapping at her sensitive heat with his thick tongue again and again and again.

And he knew it.

“Such a good Bunny.” He cooed, slurping at her opening, the stiff pinching scratching of the beard on his chin an extra factor of teasing friction on the lips of her pussy, the action sending vibrations to simmer through her and a moan to spur from where she was nuzzling on the hill of his hairy thigh, her mouth guzzling down on one of his balls, letting go with a wet pop to allow the noise to leave her throat unstrained. “Getting so wet for her Daddy.” 

His sloppy tongue continuously licked up the ravine presented to him, making its way farther up than usual, playing with the other unused, and preferably so, tight hole.

She made a jump, hopping further down on his lap, face buried in his ball-sack, yet was quickly pulled back by the strong hands on her hips, cheek thoroughly smeared with a glistening mix of saliva and precum and tears.

As though understating yet not caring about her distress, his hands comforted by messaging circles on her ass-cheeks, perhaps in an effort to keep her at bay as well. “Just play with Daddy’s cock while he plays with your cute little butt, okay Bunny?” She’d gotten so very used to instructions, so used to bending her own will. 

His tongue found its way back to prodding at the tight hole, pummeling his fatness inside, seemingly trying to pry her open. “But, Daddy-” She tried, still in an effort to scramble away from his ongoing attack.

He would not have her disobedience, that time had passed long ago. His fingers starting to carve their presence into her midriff, stifling her attempt of escape. “Play with Daddy’s cock, just like I taught you.” He was firm in his demand this time, yet the same whine of condescension, of whiny patronizing correction, was still so disgustingly present in his tone. The voice that made her want to rip her hair out and strangle him with it. 

Yet, she obeyed. Mouth proceeding to slobber over his massive cock, suckling on every inch of his girth, licking paths over every enhanced vein, making him groan and buck his hips into her face, letting her head disappear between his strong thighs, massive thighs that could snap her neck if she made the wrong move. 

“Good little Bunny.” He drawled before he too continued. 

Mewls and adorable small whines escaping her focus on pleasing his cock, as his tongue crammed into the tight space of her butthole. More tears gathered at her eye-sockets, falling onto his cock, making her taste her own despair on her tongue gargling on his balls. 

“Bunny’s so hungry… sucking on Daddy’s balls like candy-apples.” She felt like gagging, not out of reflex, but out of disgust and wholehearted cringe for his words, but wasn’t given much space to feel anything but anxiety for too long, what with his thumbs making to spread her ass-cheeks further apart. He was happy to see she stayed in place, yet not surprised as the marks on her hips were already blooming with defined raw redness, evidence of just how intolerable hesitation and especially disobeying hesitation was in his cruel eyes. “Good girl.” He praised, hammering the thickness of his tongue inside her tight ass, now with the new easy access.

One hand shifted from its position of spreading her ass, pointer running over the budding hole curiously. 

She felt her guts churn at the act, fear riding her body full with goosebumps. “Daddy?” She squeaked uncertainly, sucking in a breath, relenting from her sloppy activity between his legs, fingers curling into the bedsheets in a manner of bracing herself.

“You’ve such a pretty little butt.” He stated, where the amount of adoration was terrifyingly present in his calm and collected voice. 

His finger quit its tormenting haunting and she sighed a relieved sigh, wet slicked face falling back onto his glistening manhood, tongue making to lick up his girth yet again. 

“Does Bunny want one of Daddy’s fingers inside?” Her fear rushed back, causing her to go all light-headed while his tongue lapped at the bud again, wriggling over the ring of muscle, drawing circles on it, ignoring her growing anxiousness fully. “Hmm, I bet Bunny would love Daddy’s finger inside her little butt.” She’d gotten used to his suggestive language, knowing what was best for her, but still she couldn’t help but way her options, even though deep down knowing how if Deku wanted something from her pliable little body, he was sure to get it no matter the struggle and fight she put up. “Filling her up-” His musings were cut off, the little girl on top of him fighting ever so slightly to move further away from his antagonizing mouth, pleading with her face shoved into his cock.

“No, Daddy please, I don’t-” He didn’t like that, holding her back with his harsh grip, keeping her ass well arched and presented for him to ravage.

“To me it sounds like Bunny is begging to be punished.” He warned, still playing his games, still with his disgusting tone masking the true sentiment of his words. “Do you want Daddy to punish you, Bunny?” One hand stroked over the plump flesh of her ass, threatening to strike the unprotected skin again and again until she complied with his wishes. She knew from experience she didn't  handle the pain well, always folding.

She backed down, better now than later with blooming bruises and a discomfort to sit for a week. “No, Daddy please, I’m sorry, I’ll behave.” She scurried back, scared into position, promptly sloshing over his cock with newfound devotion, moaning happily with his precum smeared on her face, anything to spare her from what cold hell he would show her if she didn’t.

He smiled, kissing the doughy flesh of her ass-cheek, welcoming her back. “Well then… tell Daddy how much you’d love his finger in your butt.” Hand returning. “Come on, don’t be shy.” Stroking over the bud of firm flesh, letting her feel the size of his fat finger, begging her to disobey him, begging her to cry and plead or to sob and force herself to obey his commands.

She chose the latter, knowing what other harsh torture awaited her was she not to comply like a good little girl. “Please, Daddy, please finger my ass.” He hummed contently in response, poking the hole ever so slightly, his fingertip sliding in the wetness of his drool. “I want your finger in my ass so badly, Daddy.” She whined, just like she knew he liked, wiggling her ass at him impatiently like the entitled brat he wanted her to be only for him to correct and humiliate.

“Bunny wants a finger up her little butt?” He spoke hurriedly in the spiked frenzied rush of her words, having them slur in drool as he kissed the hole sloppily, lightly biting the flesh of her one ass-cheek, again to scare her into playing the game.

“Yes please, Daddy.” She suckled on his girth desperately, letting false moans pass her lips as though she couldn’t get enough of his cock choking her throat. Playing the game, playing her part, surviving.

“This little butt right here?” He questioned, tongue flicking over the hole.

“Yes, Daddy please!” She started grinding her hips back into his mouth, knowing her enthusiasm is what his anticipation beckoned.

“Well, if you’re a good Bunny and play with Daddy’s cock then I’ll give this butt what it needs.” He needed her devotion, he needed her to understand just how under his thumb she was, he needed his ego satiated, his cruel sinister sadism fed.

“Thank you, Daddy…” She sobbed, fearing while knowing what he’d do if she were to disobey, resulting to dragging her tongue up and down his cock, hands working the base as she sucked, head bobbing up and down as she made cute little glugging sounds that had his stomach fluttering in utter bliss. “I love your cock, Daddy.” So sweet, just like he trained her.

He hummed at how precious she was, feeling somewhat proud of himself for having brought that out of her. “What do you love about it, Bunny?” His words pushed, but it wasn’t the only thing that was tormenting her. His tongue, burning and wet and forceful, dug into her backside, worming its way into her little hole as she tried her best, fighting with every nerve of her being, fear motivating her to stay perfectly still, though not managing to stifle the whimper.

Her breaths were shaky as she spoke to answer him before he grew impatient. “Daddy’s cock is so perfect and big, feels so good inside me.” He didn’t seem to care that she spoke with a cry in her voice.

His hand, having had rested on her ass as a warning, swung under, calloused textured rough fingers rubbed the bead of her clit, making her moan through her cries onto his cock. She was happy her position didn’t allow her to see his smirk. “I think Bunny thinks Daddy’s cock is scary, hmm?” His finger swirled, sandpaper-fingertip dragging over the sensitive swollen pearl again and again with little regard to how her stomach was curling. “A little intimidating, perhaps?” She rested her head on his thigh, her own thighs shaking, though his other hand kept her steady as his mouth sucked on her tender ring of muscle. “But Daddy’s a hero, Daddy would never hurt you, Bunny. Daddy loves you. You understand that, don’t you?” He asked, knowing damn well her answer would be scattered with how ruthless he was being with his fingers in her clit, abusing what power they had to make her bow.

“I love-ve you too, Da- daddy…” She drooled and sobbed out on his lap, wanting so badly to wind her thighs shut, protect what was about to burst, eyes closing and fluttering as her one hand dug fingernails into where they held her steady in the thick stiff muscles of his thighs, her other hand holding his cock, trying her best to guide him into her mouth so she could do as he demanded and save herself being scolded for not listening even though he was the one making it almost impossible to do much of anything except lie there and take it.

He stuck one finger, on long thick finger, into her sopping wet folds, felt her writhe before she could control herself, another finger still held firmly on her clit, drawing careful patterns he knew would make her mewl. “Daddy knows exactly how to please his little girl… and Bunny knows exactly how to please her Daddy, doesn’t she?” He asked rhetorically, words still carrying even though they were muffled into her ass. “I taught you so well.” His finger pumped, curling, scraping, hooking up into her spongey walls, making her mew. “Do you think Daddy’s a good teacher?” She could feel the curl of his salacious smirk as his teeth grazed past the lips of her pussy, tongue flicking, zig-zagging through the wet tender folds.

“The b- best.” She strained, inching further back as he was dragging, hauling her with his finger clawing at her insides.

“Good girl…” He purred, licking up and up until he met with the bud that now seemed to pulsate, her fear so endearingly on display for him. “I think Bunny deserves her prize.” His voice lowered, and she sucked in a breath with caught in her throat as she felt his hand, scathed and scarred and strangely rough and angled with how many times he’d broken his fingers.

He gave her much time to prepare, finger swirling circles onto the hole before dipping the tip inside. She scrunched her eyes shut at the feel of the tight skin of her hole stretching, forced apart to accommodate for Deku’s fat finger. The tight ring feeling as though ripping at the intrusion, tearing as he drove the digit slowly inside, a digit that seemed foreverlasting, growing thicker the more it inched inside her, until he was finally knuckle-deep.

She sucked with fervor now, in a way to pacify herself, gobbling down on his cock gluttonously. “Does it feel good, Bunny?” He asked, voice like honey so sweet it was burning. “My finger in your cute little butt?” He whined and mocked as he wiggled the length inside her, churning her guts in the prosses, earning small cries of discomfort from her slobbering on his cock.

“Yes, Daddy.” It was barely audible as she whimpered it into his thigh.

“Speak up.” He ordered, stern and stoic voice, still with his finger pumped and prompted into her tight ass, with the other hand’s fingers rubbing circles and pinching her swollen clit between them.

“Yes, Daddy.” Her back sloped as she tipped her head up. “I’m sorry.” Her one hand steadying her, placed in support on his thigh as the other tugged on his cock, fingers not managing to enclose around his girth as she messaged his length in long tentative strokes. “Thank you, Daddy, you feel so good.” She wasn’t exactly lying, and it was clear by the slick dripping that coated her thighs.

“Are you proud to have Daddy’s finger in your ass?” He asked, making her scrunch her brows, strangling herself with how hard she was trying to keep from crying. “You should be.” She cursed her existence, wishing she could take back whatever it was that had his eyes locked on her in the first place, whatever had him kidnapping her only to torment and use her as some slave. “To have Daddy’s number one hero finger pleasing your little quirkless butt.” And there it was, the reminder of how crucially inferior she was, such a perfect quirkless toy to feed his superiority-complex. “Tell me how grateful you are, Bunny.”

This was her life. Subjugated to a mere ragdoll for someone who’d do whatever the fuck they wanted to her, a life of belonging to someone, a life of a pet. “I love you so much, Daddy…” He groaned at her words, yet his fingers dug even harder into her hips. “You take such good care of me.” She just needed to tell him what he wanted to hear. “I’m hopeless without you. Thank you, Daddy.” Seems she did a good job, because he was shifting beneath her, hands letting her go for a second only to pull her into the new desired position.

“Come here, turn around.” He ordered, still in his frenzy, turning her around on his lap, making her sit with his cock smearing drool and precum over her stomach, hot against her skin where it bobbed up between the two of them. His hand and fingers glossy with juices from her pussy, came to grab her chin, cupping her cheek to still her as he pushed his lips onto her face, kissing her with hunger, as though in a hurry, his finger finding her ass again, sinking knuckle-deep inside her once again while grabbing onto the soft doughy flesh of ass, making her yelp against his lips, before he parted once more, a string of spit connecting them. “Does Bunny want Daddy’s cock inside her ass?” He mushed her face between his rough finger-pads, her lips puckered like a fish at him, eyes glossy with tearful plead, her thighs beginning to quake against him as she sat uncomfortably with his finger spearing her in the wrong hole.

Her bottom lip quivered then, eyes wide and brimming. “No- please… Daddy.” She would at least try to sway his mind, bargain her way out of it.

His look hardened, cocking an eyebrow at her resistance. “Is Bunny disobeying Daddy?” His grip on her face was past painful now, bruising, nails marking their presence, close to breaching her skin.

“No, Daddy, please-” She started, scrambling for something to save her, trying to make his hold relent, but falling short of making any savory excuses, reduced to mere whimpering as she accepted a preferred compromise. “My pussy would feel so lonely without you filling me up…” His fingers detached, yet only barely, still holding her chin, still controlling, though looking fascinated by the turn of events, pleasured with his little pet openly submitting to him, all with that adorable sweet voice. “I want your big beautiful number one cock inside me, please, Daddy please, I want you in my pussy.” She pushed forward to brush her breasts against his chest, grinding up into him in the process, hands brazenly stroking his cock all on their own command, forehead pressed against his as she did her best to seem seductive, licking her lips and maintaining eye-contact even as his green orbs seemed crazed and fervent and so dangerously feral.

“Bunny wants to come on Daddy’s cock, doesn’t she?” His tone was weirdly condescending, like he was talking to a toddler about getting ice-cream, and though she despised it with every fiber of her being, feeling like the tone itself was gasoline to a roaring raging fire, she did her best to swallow the smoke, knowing it would get her nowhere.

“Yes, Daddy. Pretty please.” She begged, and he wrapped his one hand around the small of her back, pushing her against his chest, his other hand still not having left, with its main finger inside her butt, doing small curious pumps into the tight flesh.

He licked the shell of her ear, a small chuckle coming out as huffs as his hand moved once again away from her back, to line his cock up with her still slick with spit clit, rubbing his cockhead over the bead before sliding it down to push open her sopping hole. “Can Bunny take Daddy in her cute little pussy with his finger inside her pretty ass? Yeah?” Tapping his thickness into her tightness while watching her nod in agreement, only slightly disappointed she didn’t repeat what she said once more, especially when it sounded so delicious dripping from her defeated lips. “Good girl, sit down on Daddy's cock.”

She eased down like she’d done for the past couple weeks, always surprised by just how thick he is, how stingingly and fearfully painful it is, always thinking it couldn’t possibly be as bad as she made it out to be previously though always proven wrong, thinking she ought to have stretched out to accommodate his size to a comfortable fit, yet not having achieved the pleasure still with how many times he’d ripped her apart.

“Hop on that dick little Bunny.” He whispered as she eased herself all the way down, cock fully sleeved inside her, feeling as she was about to burst, so full, so blown, yet he hadn’t any mercy left to spare. She felt his finger wiggle where it penetrated her backside entrance, how his cock and it messaged the wall that separated her two holes, feeling a new type of dangerous, giving her another worry even as the anxiety for what pain treading herself over his cock was already overwhelming enough on its own. “Come on, little Bunny, hands on my shoulders and jump.”

She hadn’t the mind to hold back the whimper, letting her seductive mask slip as the pain mingled pleasure demanded her attention more, hands unsteady as they gripped his shoulder, fingers running over those deep healed scars on his skin she’d gotten so used to tracing. She folded her feet over his legs, given her better balance as she began sliding him in and out slowly, at a pace she could hope to handle and hope was fast enough to please him and his beastly member.

He hummed, free hand coming up to toy with her breasts, grabbing it with those labor-knuckled fingers. “Such a happy little girl bouncing on Daddy’s cock…” He licked over his toothy-grin, salacious green eyes glistening with drunk toxic love-sick madness as he felt her tight suction on his manhood, gliding up and down, in and out, full and hollow. “What do you say?” He decided to tease, decided to make the hurt worse.

A soft whine left her and he couldn’t describe the sick bliss that fluttered in his chest because of it. “Thank you, Daddy.” She forced out yet again, her voice all shaken and adorable.

And still he felt the wanton desire to push. “For what, Bunny? Be specific.”

She knew the drill, what he wanted to hear, but that didn’t make it any easier to force from her throat, even harder to relent from seething the words through grit teeth where she knew such aggression wouldn’t be tolerated, because nothing but her complete and full submission would be tolerated by Deku. “Thank you, Daddy, for giving me your big beautiful number one cock.” What was funny was that it was in a sense still true, despite her hating every word of it, despite her cursing the sentence, the praise, the gratitude. It did feel good, behind the pain, behind her disgust, it felt good. What more, Deku was the number one hero, not just the strongest man alive, but intelligent, knowledgeable and ruthless too, where it really would be unwise to not feel grateful for having been chosen by him, where people should be grateful he even chooses to be a hero at all, when he could just as easily be a villain, or a bloody tyrant. She should be grateful that she was given the honor of being his. Her body sure knows how to show its humility, doing its best to please him, showing him just how appreciated and welcome his touches are with how undeniably wet her pussy gets each time, clenching around his shaft as it drills deep into her, filling her out, completing her, pushing into that spongey spot deep within her, making her stomach flip, toes curl, clit buzz with pleasure, shamefully come all over him.

He made a moan of awe, patronizing in its nature. “Are you gonna come for me? All over Daddy’s cock.” She wanted to scream, throw herself off his lap, slap him, claw and bite and kick, but instead she was doing exactly what he said. “A happy little Bunny stuffed with Daddy's cock and his finger up her bum.” He whined, hand having glided down from holding her chin in favor of wrapping around her throat, nose touching nose, emerald steel-eyes keenly watching her every move, feeling her clench around him, making him hiss with pleasure like a snake.

“Yes, Daddy please.” She never liked snakes. Her new life was made of snakes. Snakes taking the form of ropes, tying her down, chaining her up, snakes in her guts, swirling and coiling and tickling that strange pleasure that had treacherous venom drip onto the snake that penetrated her, his arms like snakes around her waist, thick constrictors holding her still, keeping her trapped for devouring.

“Beg for it.”

She sucked in a beaten breath, forcing her will to comply to his wishes, swallowing her pride, subduing the fighter in favor of having her fall on her own sword, instead of digging her own grave. “Daddy, please can I come on your cock?” One would think the human soul gets used to humiliation after some time, but the ball in her chest hadn’t softened no matter how many times she’d offered up her dignity, no matter how many times Deku had forced her to her knees. “You feel so good inside me, Daddy.” She mewed in gratitude, moaning as he hit the right spot again and again, making her go blind as she tried focusing on what sweet nothings she needed to say. “I wanna come for you so badly, Daddy please.” He gave her a kiss to her nose then, meant to be sweet even though it would have revolted her had she been in the right mind to feel anything but forcibly good, all sweet with chasing her release, riding him, jumping on his length like a good bunny should.

“Good Bunny.” He purred an she had not the mind to feel like cussing, only desperately waiting for him to allow her release. “You see? Things are so much easier when you do as you're told, when you do what Daddy tells you.” He bottomed out into her tight heat, filling her up to the hilt, felt her body spasm with half panic at how deep inside her he was and half pleasure with how dangerous it felt to have her cervix molded by the shape of his cock-head burying itself in the spongey spot. “Come on, come on Daddy’s cock, make Daddy feel good.” She couldn’t refuse, even if he’d told her to hold it, she couldn’t, couldn’t stop the lightning to shoot through her, pussy clenching around his cock like a death-grip, strangling his length, sucking on him, milking his shaft, unsure whether she wanted him to pull out or stay inside her warmth, but luckily that decision wasn’t up to her, all she needed to do was not forget her manners.

“Thank you, Daddy…” It dripped from her mouth like sweet-tasting poison, tongue dripping with thick drool as she panted and mewled with how he continued warming his cock inside her, trying to push further and deeper inside even though there was no more space to be filled, resulting to a deep thrusting that felt as though he was about to push through into her womb.

He kissed her cheek as she numbed down to a relaxed exhausted limp body in his arms. “You’re welcome, Bunny… but Daddy isn't finished with you yet.” She felt her stomach twist despite knowing how she wasn’t done until Deku shoots his thick cream and paints whatever part of her body he had the appetite for.

Pulled from her high by the knowledge of how it was a psychotic madman who had granted it, as she felt said green-haired man guide her to lay on her back. 

“There you go, Bunny… such a cute mess.” He licked his lips, where she only barely tried to scurry away from his hungry lips gaining on her sensitive raw orgasm-glossed sex. 

She whined when his tongue dragged up her slit to drink her juices, flicking over her tender swollen clit, hands in his hair, trying their best to refrain from yanking him away. 

“Oh, Bunny’s so sensitive… did Daddy make you feel too good.” She squirmed beneath him, convulsing as he teased with his tongue and his lips and the light grazing ghosting of his teeth. “Look at you… Daddy’s little Crybunny.” He snickered, smirking as he gorged himself beneath her legs, loving the whiny moans and whimpers she couldn’t hold back, and how her hands tried ever so sweetly to nudge him off, how she dug the balls of her feet into the mattress to try and shuffle away from his attack, but not allowed to go anywhere with his arms locked around her thighs, keeping her just where he wanted her, shivering beneath him and only seconds away from crying and begging him to stop. “Does the little Bunny need her pacifier?” He hummed in askance. “Don’t you move a muscle, Bunny, I have a treat for you...” 

He hopped off the bed with a speed that went unnoticed while she blinked to find him position behind her, hovering above her face, thick and fat and veined from hilt to tip, tidy shaven green-stubble above his strutting proud cock, a path of longer hairs trailing up to his belly-button and sprinkled into a pretty growth of chest-hair the higher up his chiseled abs it went. 

“Open up, Bunny.” He tapped the glossy mushroom-tip onto her lips, smearing what concoction of precum and juices had mingled together there. 

She did as commanded, parting her lips yet making sure to wrap her teeth, knowing how he didn’t appreciate being bitten either by accident or not, having little understanding to how hard it was to fit him in her mouth without letting her teeth graze his impressive girth. 

“Taste yourself.” He groaned. “Suck me clean, Bunny.” He lightly patted the side of her face, fingers drumming on her cheek, telling her to hollow them in and suck on him. “There you go.” He praised, watching her struggle not to gag as he began lightly fucking the back of her throat, pushing farther down, liking how her already tight tunnel began clenching around him, trying to hold back the coughs. “Be a good Bunny and swallow all of me.” 

Usually he’d enjoy the feel of her nose dipping into his pelvis, but now with her upside down, he could feel his balls being poked as they smothered her only remaining breathing option. Still, he took his time, knowing how she could take a few seconds without air, enjoying the look of his fat cock down her throat, his hand testing a daring stroke over her jugular, watching to see if she would convulse and gag and splutter out coughs like she did the first couple of times he ventured deep, yet was proud to see her stay in play with only a few panicked spams of her chest. He probed even further as he lightly pinched the outline of his shaft between his thumb and index-finger, listening to her begin to whine, a submissive little prayer to let her breathe again. 

“Good Bunny…” He pulled out, large hands cupping her cheeks, telling her to remain lying there as he bent over to kiss her spit-slicked lips, his hand reaching over to palm her breast while the other reached farther to rub rough patterns into her terribly oversensitive clit, making her gasp out a strangled uncontrolled moan into his receiving mouth. “Come on, one more time.” He straightened himself, taking the opportunity to push through her open-mouthed panting with his dripping cock. “Get me nice and wet for your little Bunny-butt…”

Her eyes shot open, hands flailing instead of holding onto his thighs. “No-” She tried protesting, as she lightly tapped at his firm muscled ass with the face of her palm, slapping to get her discomfort across.

“No, no, Bunny, do as you’re told, do what Daddy says.” Deku chastised, grabbing her bothersome hands by the wrist and holding them behind his back, feeling her try to recoil away, yet well-trained enough to not bite as his cock pushed down her throat again. “Be a good Bunny and suck on Daddy.” He rocked his hips slowly back and forth, jutting lightly into her mouth. “Just like Daddy taught you.” His voice remained sweetly stoic, like a teacher or a parent, made her want to throw up on him, yet knowing how he didn’t stop last time she did, he just kept fucking her skull, even with the bile and acidic liquid burning in her throat. “Wash out all those filthy protests.” She whimpered at how his hands tightened around her wrists, balls lightly clapping over the bridge of her nose, swinging into her face each time he pushed until his entire length was enclosed to the hilt. “Teach you some manners Bunny-girl.” 

Her eyes stung now, with the built-up tears that now flowed freely, dampening her hairline before dripping into the sheets. 

Deku moaned, releasing her hands, needing his own to reposition his toy in the new desired position. “Up on your knees.” He remained staining at the edge of the bed, helping his darling kneel. “Posture, Bunny.” He chastised. “Arch that ass up for Daddy.” 

His hand spread flat in the space between her shoulder blades, pushing her upper-body down into the sheets, gliding to enclose around the back of her neck to keep her still while the fingers of his other hand stroked chaffed fingertips up and down the tender lips of her pussy, diving between her folds to gather slick wetness he used to push into her sore hole, curling two digits into the spongey velvet walls, making her moan into the pillow she was forced against. 

“Stay.” He ordered, all his warmth leaving her as she remained clutching and balling up the fabric of the sheets in her tiny useless fists, keeping her ass presented in the air, waiting with eager horror for Deku to return. 

She heard him open a drawer, then click open a lid, the squirt of something she had an educated guess of what was, listened to the slick sounds of him messaging the liquid into his hands, before his heavy steps carried him back to his position behind her. 

“Look at this precious little bunny-hole.” His fingers felt slippery as they rubbed and palmed her ass-cheeks, left hand lifting the plump flesh on one side, whilst the other moved to slide up and down the ravine before hooking a finger inside the top tight little ring of muscle. “Bunny needs Daddy’s cock inside her little butt, doesn’t she?” He pushed it in with ease now with the lube covering his hands, preparing the tightness by pumping the digit in and out, tickling the unsuspecting nerves that had never been played with before, the feeling strange yet surprisingly pleasant as his finger scraped downward, rubbing against a spot that had her pussy gushing around nothing. “Bunny’s tight little butt is just begging to be filled with Daddy's cock isn’t it, Bunny?”

She wasn’t too sure anymore. “No…”

He stuck another finger in with the first one at her reply, making her whine out a wail, toes curling, her one leg thumping up and down into the mattress, trying to shake and crawl away but not allowed to go anywhere with his hand reaching to recover the position it held before, holding her down, pressured around the back of her neck. “Up until now Bunny has been enjoying herself, but this attitude… tch, tch, Bunny... perhaps she needs a little reminder of who she belongs to?” 

She whimpered at the feel of both his thick fingers gliding alongside each other in and out of her tight tender hole, as she clenched around them and around nothing where juices were dripping down her thighs. 

“And there is no punishment without a little pain.” 

He’d only been dipping his digits in halfway, and she realized this once he decided to go knuckle-deep inside her, making her jolt at the foreign feeling of something going inside, much deeper now. 

She was arching her back up like a cat, trying to hide her ass from his antagonizing hands. “What have I told you about posture, Bunny?” His hand let partially go of her neck to glide up her spine, resting on the small of her back. “Give Daddy your hands.” She hesitated, taking her time to breath, feeling his fingers sink in, making her knees tremble, before she listened and folded her arms behind her, again like he’d taught her. “Now, arch your little Bunny-butt up for me.” 

She took small shallow breaths as she readjusted her back into a slope again, knowing what was coming, however as she felt it, big and warm and slick and soft like velvet, riding up her drooling pussy, his fingers disappearing from playing with her hole to make room for what would soon take their place, something much bigger and much longer, both his hands grabbing each her wrists, but not before making a cross of her arms, perfectly immobile for him as he lined his aching eager cock up with her pulsating little hole, she couldn’t hold back.

“No, please, Daddy, I’ll be good.” She begged, trying to scramble away, but being to late as she was left simply sobbing into the mattress, unable to move to any other position without it hurting with how his hands had bent her arms behind her back, yet despite knowing this he still took it upon himself to raise his foot and place it down over the side of her face, stomping slightly on it as a warning to keep still. Her movement obliged, coming to a halt, though not able to contain the trembling. “Please…” She tried one last time, though knowing he had no mercy nor patience left to spare her.

“Don’t disobey Daddy.” He fit his cockhead into the dip of her back entrance again, lining up the attack. “Now Bunny, beg for Daddy to fill your little butt up.” She tried shaking her head beneath the pressure of his foot, feeling her heart in her throat, pouting and scrunching her eyes shut, sniffling so adorably, yet he couldn’t take any pity on her when this was a lesson she needed to learn. “I said beg.” He pulled her arms back, as she screamed with how her shoulder-blades were close to popping out, his foot mushing her face harder into the mattress.

“Pl- please Daddy… fill me u- up…” She blubbered, every inch of her quivering.

He quit his torture, leaving her to simply snivel. “Good girl.” And then he started pushing.

Big bulging mushroom head entering slowly as she whimpered, butthole seizing around it, swallowing it up. “You see, Bunny?” His movements stilled, letting her get used to the new feeling of having something so big fit in the firm taunt hole. “Your little butt is sucking on my cock like a lollipop.” 

He aimed a drop of spit at where he was cramming inside her, the cold wetness hitting her with surprise as she slightly jumped on her knees, bouncing in the soft sponge of the mattress, the movement inadvertently making his cock rock with shallow thrusts in and out of her, messaging her opening. 

He moaned at the cute gesture. “Bunny’s so eager to receive Daddy’s cock, isn’t she?” He slid farther in, making her moan as his cock dragged along the wall that separated from her pussy, making everything tighten up, her pussy feeling so empty, clenching on nothing at all, yet feeling his fat length in just the wrong place, teasing her, making her so unbelievably wet. “Tell Daddy how good it feels, Bunny.” He pulled out again, beginning a slow tempo of lolling halfway into her.

He looked to her face, flushed red and squished together beneath the sole and weight of his foot keeping her down, lips puckered and bloated, cheeks tear-stained, eyes sparkling as she mumbled on small bubbling purrs, unsure pleasure painting her face, looking like such an endearing hopeless mess as he squeezed into the tight fit of her perfect plump ass. “It feels good, Daddy.” She quavered, shaky breaths and small sniffles leaving her adorable expression.

He hummed in return, sinking just a little bit farther inside her, feeling her tense as he did, an open-mouthed whine leaving her, drool hanging like silver string from her lips. “I think Bunny can be more creative than that, can’t she?”

She knew better than to disobey, especially when he already had her in such a compromising postion, knowing he wasn’t far away from pushing all the way inside her still accommodating ass, make her scream and possibly bleed as he fucked her through yet another punishment. “Daddy’s cock feels so good. So good with your number one cock inside me. I love you, Daddy. I love Daddy’s cock. Thank you, Daddy.” She drooled out as sweetly as she could, which was sweeter than honey with how hard it was to breath in her position of being pushed into the pillow beneath her, body slunk with no way of getting up, a proper prayer-pose as Deku stuffed her even fuller, making her mew.

“That’s right…” He groaned, hips rocking slowly and carefully back and forth, opening her little butt with his thickness, messaging her insides, teasing all the sensitive provoked nerves, poking shallowly into the spot that usually had her coming were it not on the other side, in her other hole who was begging to be stimulated in a way that wasn’t half-way fulfilling and half-way terrifying. “And to think Bunny thought she didn’t want this. Daddy still hasn’t heard his apology…”

“You’re right, Daddy, I was wrong… I do want this…” Another moan was forced from her as he inched even further inside, pushing into uncharted and unsuspecting tender areas, making her bleat and sigh ever so sweetly, unable to do anything but lie there and feel every inch of him stuffing her full, taking his time enjoying her tight hole.

He moaned in awe at her words, nearly slobbering. “Daddy knows what’s best for you Bunny.” Another inch had her feeling even fuller, as though he was in her stomach. “Daddy knows what Bunny wants and needs.” He fucked with the added length for a short-lived while until pushing another full inch inside, having her whine out a moan, her ass shaking like a little tease, wiggling at him, her arms also trying ever so slightly on reflex to pull out of his grasp. “Daddy’s always right, Bunny only needs to please Daddy.” 

He started sinking in inch after inch, unbothered or perhaps coaxed by how she struggled now, opting to bottom out fully, have his balls squished against her glossy pussy, his cock completely enclosed by her tight spasming butt, grunting out a shuddering groan of potent pleasure while feeling her little futile struggles trying so desperately to make him stop or slow down as he filled her up completely. 

“You just need to listen… and obey.”

TIP-JAR

#yandere my hero academia #yandere boku no hero academia #yandere #yandere deku #yandere midoriya #yandere midoriya izuku #midoriya izuku #Midoriya #izuku midoriya #bnha midoriya #yandere izuku #yandere izuku midoriya #deku x reader #daddy deku #izuku x reader #izuku mydoria #Izuku #izuku midoria x reader

[fantasia-monogram]

Inspection

♥️ Inseong x reader (gender and pronouns not specified, female anatomy)

♥️ Smut (~2k words); I'm back with my quirky nerdy a bit emotionally detached Inseong agenda! Oral sex and fingering, a tiniest little bit of anal play, edging, lightly hinted objectification and somnophilia and, possibly, some elements of medical play (can be interpreted like that). Established relationship. They're both kinky bastards, everything is fully consensual.

♥️ Disclaimer: this is just for fun! I’m not claiming that’s how he is in real life, it’s just my imagination doing whatever it wants. Read at your own discretion.

You certainly didn't plan to wake up before the alarm, but the sound of rustling behind you pulled you out of your well deserved sleep. It was already getting bright outside - despite that, you were about to try your luck dozing off again.

At least until Inseong's arm sneaked around your waist, only to push you snug against his chest.

You hummed in confusion. Inseong? Awake at this hour?

"Shh- You can just doze off. I need to do an inspection on you." His whisper, smooth like silk, brought warmth to the back of your neck.

"Inspection?" You asked, although at this point, nothing coming from Inseong's pretty mouth should have sounded weird or confusing. Especially so early in the morning. "What are you on this time?"

"My brilliant brain. And eight hours of quality sleep," he murmured against the shell of your ear. That was true: last night, he went to bed right after taking a shower, claiming he would only take a short nap. Two hours later, you had no heart to wake him up, so you just snuggled with him and fell asleep yourself.

"Anyway, we haven't seen each other for a couple days… I need to check up on… some vital parts of your gorgeous body." His hand hovered over the front of your briefs. "See if you're cumming properly."

You squirmed in the embrace, unable to hide the jolt of excitement that rushed through your body. That only made Inseong pull you closer.

"Oh no, we can't have you all tensed up during the hole inspection," he cooed with fake sympathy; you couldn't tell if his choice of words weirded you out or made you horny. Probably a mix of both. "You need to relax."

Just as he said that, he moved his hand upwards, letting it slide under your T-shirt. He caressed the skin on your stomach, which definitely wasn't helping you calm down.

He leaned his head over your side. Now, with better access, he left a trail of tender kisses from your temple, all the way down your jawline. You were just starting to relax a little, when his fingers moved down, catching the hem of your underwear.

"The sooner we start, the better. Be nice and follow my instructions, okay?" he asked in a reassuring tone, although you knew he was just pretending. Mere thought of his dirty intentions made you shiver.

He sat up and pushed away the sheets.

"Can you lie on your back for me?"

You nodded and did as he told, your heart beating faster with every moment.

Inseong was in front of you in seconds, sliding your briefs down.

"Okay, now spread your legs wide."

You trembled when cold air hit you between your legs, as you hesitantly fulfilled the order - or maybe it was just because you felt so exposed. Inseong, not wasting any more time, nestled himself comfortably, leaning on his elbows. He moved his face dangerously close to your pussy; you could feel his breath on your skin.

After a while of just observing intently, he spread your labia with his fingers, using the thumb of his other hand to press your clit in a little circle. You grasped the sheets beneath you, holding back a moan.

All that anticipation was driving you crazy, even though he was touching you without any kind of lubrication so far.

"Oh, okay. Correct reaction."

Inseong's voice was steady and almost neutral despite the situation you were in; he still didn't bother to look away, either. Another circular motion of his thumb had you writhing, but you didn't make a sound - that is, until he grazed another finger through the slit of your entrance, making you whine at the brief contact.

You decided to peek, only to see him observe his now wet index finger. Then, he licked it clean.

To say you were all fired up would be an understatement.

"That's better." He returned to his earlier position. "But still not enough."

He made brief eye contact with you, probably just to make sure you can see everything well. Lining his face right above, he let a streak of saliva drip from his mouth onto your clit.

Your body jerked as the liquid hit your swollen bud, the roll of it through your skin almost agonizing. Inseong, still in character, watched it flow leisurely, until the last drops disappeared between your cheeks.

You swore your revenge after you were done. This amount of teasing was truly criminal.

Next moment you had to drop your threats, though, because Inseong nonchalantly brought some of your wetness up and started massaging your bud properly - all of that with his eyes still focused on his ministrations.

Yes, you were basically reduced to your pussy. Yes, it was turning you on like hell.

The movement was definitely too slow to be satisfying, so when clenching around nothing gave you no relief, you let out a couple strangled, high pitched whines.

Inseong picked up your clue, though not without putting his own twist into it.

"I suppose we're done with the preparation," he stated calmly. "Time to start the actual inspection."

That bastard. He was just playing around all that time.

He carefully pushed a single finger into you - and you could clearly tell it was the middle one, because once it was all in, its tip rested right on your sweet spot.

You tried rotating your hips to get some pressure you craved so much. Inseong immediately withdrew, no more than a centimeter or two, making you cry out from sheer frustration.

"Everything seems to be fine on the inside, too." Inseong murmured. You could hear a devilish smirk in his voice.

You were looking to the side, not wanting to show your eyes were glazed over with tears, but you caught Inseong sitting up straight with the corner of your vision. He was staring right at your face.

No, you couldn't give him the satisfaction of seeing you so worked up.

As if he read your mind, he put his hand on your knee, spreading it further. Still staring at you, he started pulling his finger out as slowly as it was humanly possible. You were so swollen and sensitive already that the deliberate, agonizing movement was making you lose your mind.

Inseong chuckled. He was clearly enjoying it.

You thought he was done teasing and would just peacefully bring you to climax, but he had something else in mind.

Daring to look at what's happening, you saw him finally pulling the finger out, a long streak of your juices sticking to it. You could swear you blinked for a mere second - only to get startled by your own sharp gasp as Inseong pushed three fingers at once into you, the slide easy thanks to all the wetness.

Oh God, the fullness was heavenly after all the teasing.

Keeping his eyes on you, Inseong started pumping his fingers in and out at a relentless pace. At the same time, he kept rubbing your clit with his other hand.

He might have sucked at physical activity, but his hand coordination was out of this world.

You covered your face with your arm to drown in the intense sensation; at this point, you didn't care - you screamed, unable to handle the delightful stretch in a collected way. Soon enough, your cries dissipated into quick breathy moans, a tell-tale sign you were close.

That's when Inseong abruptly removed his fingers, once again leaving you empty. You let out another scream; this time, out of frustration.

"For fuck's sake, just let me cum!" You hit the bed with your fist.

Inseong laughed out loud.

"What? Are you kidding?" He laid down on his stomach. "We still have another hole to inspect."

You went quiet immediately. You brought up this topic a couple of times before. Was he actually going to do it now? A shiver took over your body.

Inseong pressed his middle finger against your clit hard enough to elicit a choked gasp from you. He started moving it down, coating it well with your juices. Once he passed below your entrance, he licked his lips and leaned in to press them on your clit.

You couldn’t control the sounds coming out of you anymore when he put his mouth and tongue to work, literally making out with your pussy - slow kisses, licks and warm huffs of air turned you into a mess in no time. The feeling was so overwhelming you almost forgot about his finger that was going lower and lower down your crack.

You held your breath when you felt it touch your other hole.

Inseong stopped for a moment. He swallowed theatrically. What a show off.

“I need your consent for the final part of the inspection.” He was dead serious.

“G… go on…” You mumbled, surprised at how hoarse your voice has gotten.

With that, Inseong’s tongue swirled on your skin again, and his finger mirrored the movement. His oral game, as amazing as always, distracted you for a moment; he increased the pace, and you decided to focus on the sensation.

Then, you felt the pad of his finger push a little, and your mind was gone.

Your orgasm hit at the slightest breach through your rim; you came hard, practically wailing, shocked by the intensity. It lasted longer than usual as well, so that when you were done, you could barely get yourself back together.

“Oh God… Oh God, what was that…” You wondered, completely out of breath. Stunned and confused, you sat up.

Inseong’s shirt was soaked all around the collar, not to mention he was wiping his chin with a sleeve.

“I give it an 8 out of 10 score, just because of squirting. Didn’t get to inspect the other hole properly.”

You smacked his shoulder, although it was more like a weak pat considering your physical strength just leaked out of you.

Quite literally.

Inseong’s only reaction was surging forward to pin you to the mattress with his body. He pressed his lips against yours, letting you taste yourself on his lips. You didn’t mind it; you both loved being a little messy anyway.

"I love you so, so much. I'm sorry I called your cunnie a hole," he said, breaking the kiss. You shook your head at his remorseful expression; he always gave such cute nicknames to your intimate body parts that this one time wasn't an issue for you at all.

He embraced you tightly, hiding his face in the crook of your neck.

“Hey, sir, I think we have one more inspection to do,” you giggled, feeling a half-hard bulge poking your thigh through Inseong's shorts.

No answer came. You pulled away from the embrace as much as you could, locked by Inseong's tall frame.

The boy was asleep already, resting his head on your shoulder, a carefree smile on his lips.

You sighed and patted his hair fondly. Well, sometimes it was all about him giving you pleasure you deserved, rather than trying to chase his own. Having you blissed out under him would feed his (bigger than expected) ego just enough.

Actually, it was one of the things you loved the most about your relationship - right after Inseong's unusual quirks and kinks, that is.

#sf9 imagines #sf9 smut #sf9 scenarios #inseong imagine #inseong scenario #inseong smut #inseong x reader

[thedumpsterqueen]

Standards of Performance, Chapter 10: Accommodations

From the Beginning,  Previous Chapter

AO3 Link

Thank you guys again for being so kind about the new posting schedule (or lack thereof). Your comments and messages and rbs always make me laugh and cry (in a a good way).This is just a lil chapter about them being awkward and cute after The Kiss, and introducing some bigger plot stuff. You'll wanna buckle up for the next one ;)

Summary: You’re the BAU’s newest intern, desperate to prove yourself amongst an established team of much more experienced profilers. Agent Hotchner, the seemingly infallible team leader, sets strict expectations for your performance. He commands your respect without even trying, but is there something more to your relationship than a simple desire to impress your stony-faced boss?

Chapter Summary: Some creep is stalking the team and all you can think about is kissing Hotch. 

Words: 2059

Rating: Explicit, 18+. Warnings on AO3.

Pairings: Hotch x Reader, Hotch x You

The BAU had a stalker.

To put it in a way more relevant to your views on the matter: the BAU’s stalker was interfering with the (hopefully) budding spark between you and Hotch.

It wasn’t that you didn’t care that there was potentially unhinged maniac apparently obsessed with the team, it’s just that when you got the slightly panicked phone call from JJ that Morgan, Reid, Garcia, and herself had all found letters on their doorstep professing an alarming fascination with the members of the team, you couldn’t help but feel a bit irritated that the ordeal was bound to put a pause on the progress you two had made.

That is, until you went to leave your apartment in the morning and found an unassuming envelope shoved under the door. You opened it with shaking fingers to a note written on thick cardstock, scrawled in black, seeping ink as if written by an old-fashioned quill.

I’ve been paying attention to your team for some time - quite the impact you’ve made on the world of crime. The heroes of the FBI’s Behavioral Analysis Unit! I’m sure the world wishes they had you during Bundy or BTK, hm?

Anyways, I had to see for myself. I must admit, finding you was much easier than I would have anticipated given your ‘status.’ I thought I’d drop you this note to say hi and propose a deal. A Game, of sorts.

The Game goes like this: I leave you notes, and you try to catch me! Easy, yes? This is day 1. How many days until you find me?

Xoxo Talk soon,

G

You put the note in your bag and, after double checking your door was locked (not that the flimsy deadbolt the landlord had installed would have done much to keep an intruder out anyways), you rushed to the office. You dropped your note on the table in the conference room where the team had gathered and pointed at it tremulously. 

“I got one too. I touched it, I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking -”

“Don’t worry about it,” Rossi interrupted. “We dusted the others; there was nothing. I doubt yours was any different.”

Hotch plucked your letter up and scanned it quickly before tossing it back on the table. “It’s exactly the same as the others. Nothing identifiable.”

“Why didn’t we get them?” asked Prentiss.

“Access,” said Garcia, notably less cheery than usual. The team turned to her for clarification.

“You three are hard to get to,” she explained. “Hotch and Prentiss live in secure apartment buildings. Rossi has a gated property with security that can rival the President’s. Those of us who don’t live the high life are just... out in the open.”

“So that’s encouraging, right? That the unsub either couldn’t or wouldn’t go through the extra trouble of getting to all of us?” JJ asked, hopeful.

Morgan shook his head. “I dunno if you can interpret any part of what this creep is doing to intimidate us as ‘encouraging.’”

“Does it read as intimidation, though?” mused Reid. 

“I don’t know, you tell me,” Morgan responded. “What’s your take on the language?”

Reid took a millisecond to reread the letter and pursed his lips. “Though the language isn’t directly threatening, the concept of a game implies either winning or losing. He - it’s almost certainly a he - doesn’t mention the consequences for either situation, which could imply that there are none, but that seems unlikely. There’s also the matter of separating himself from others in line three - ‘I’m sure the world wishes they had you during Bundy or BTK,’ not we. He’s trying to distinguish himself to us in some way, which means he wants to be noticed, and I don’t think there’s anything in this language that excludes the possibility of him doing something drastic in order to be.”

“So not encouraging,” said Prentiss dryly. “The question is, why us? Is this personal; did we put someone close to him away?”

“It could be, but the language in the opening seems sarcastic almost, like he’s mocking us,” noted Rossi. 

Morgan nodded in agreement. “It’s a challenge. He’s trying to tell us we’re not all we’re cracked up to be.”

The analysis worried you, because you felt you were the only member of the team for whom that statement might have been true. 

“So, what then?” you asked. “Review security footage and see if we can find anything?”

“Already did!” chirped Garcia. “Hotch had me up all night reviewing the tapes.”

For the first time, you noticed the dark circles under her standard coat of heavy makeup. You looked at Hotch, expecting to find some shame in his expression, but found none. 

“If there was anyone weird creeping around your dwellings last night, I didn’t see ‘em. I even looked through the street cameras in the area. Granted, none of you have a security camera pointed directly at your door, which might not be a bad idea after this -”

“Hold on,” Morgan interrupted, “you didn’t check her apartment though, right?” referring to you. “Cuz she just found it this morning?”

Garcia perked up, but you shot her down with a shake of your head. “Sorry guys, my place isn’t nearly nice enough to have security cameras.”

The team looked unperturbed by that, except for Hotch, who met your eyes with a look you couldn’t quite place. 

“What do we do, then? Wait for another letter?” JJ asked.

“That’s all we can do until we have more evidence,” said Hotch, visibly frustrated. He hated waiting, you knew that. You all hated it. It felt like watching a car without its parking brake on slowly start to roll down a hill.

“If that’s all, sir…”

Hotch nodded at Garcia. “You’re all dismissed. Business as usual for now. If he craves acknowledgement, best not to give it to him unless we have to.”

The team filtered out, and you made to follow them, but before making it through the doorway, Hotch called you back. He shifted feet, cleared his throat, and looked at you.

“About the comment you made earlier,” he started.

What comment? You wracked your brain trying to remember if you’d said something rude, or something that hinted at what happened between you two, but came up short.

He noticed the puzzled look on your face and clarified. “When you said your apartment complex wasn’t nice enough to have security cameras. I wanted to say that -” he ran his hand across his jaw, clearly uncomfortable, “- I know the internship salary isn’t impressive, and if you feel you’re unable to afford safe accommodation, I’d be more than happy to talk to Strauss about -”

“Oh, God, no.” You felt as if your face was on fire. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it that way, my apartment is fine - I mean of course there’s things that could be improved - but in no way do I feel unsafe.” 

“Well, good. Okay then.”

Before you could make your exit and spare you both from the residual awkwardness of the interaction, he spoke again. “There’s one more thing. Given that whoever wrote this note has displayed his willingness to come to our doorsteps, JJ is staying with Emily for the time being, Reid with Rossi, and Garcia with Morgan.”

You smirked at the last pairing. Leave it to those two to capitalize on a stalker to bunk up together. 

“I was going to have the Bureau get you a hotel in the meantime, since he did come to your apartment, but Garcia suggested that since we live so close, you could just… stay with me.”

Holy shit.

There was a pained look on his face as he finished the sentence as if he recognized what an utterly bad idea it was, but hadn’t had the good sense to reject it himself. He looked at you, expecting an answer despite the lack of a question mark at the end of that statement, and you struggled mightily to compose yourself to deliver an acceptance that didn’t appear uncomfortably enthusiastic. 

You must have taken too long, because he immediately started to retract his offer. “I already told her it was completely inappropriate; the rest of the team is used to staying together for cases but given you just started, and after the last few days I completely understand -”

“No!” You cut him off. “Sorry, no, that’s not what I was going to say at all. I’d love to. I mean, I think it’s a good idea. I’d feel a lot safer…”

‘With you around?’ Is that too much?

Fuck it. 

“... with you around,” you finished, and you swear you saw him push back a smile.

“Alright, then. I’ll let Garcia know.”

You made a mental note to send that woman a thank-you card.

***

As the workday wound down, you were surprised to Hotch turn out his office light and walk out at the same time as you did.

“Early night?” you teased as you walked to your cars in the parking garage, despite it being 7 pm. 

He chuckled. “It would have been rude of me to keep you hanging around until I decided to leave.”

Right. You were leaving together. Because you were going back to his apartment. Together. The undeniable domesticity of the moment put a skip in your step, and you couldn’t help but wish this was happening under different circumstances.

“So I’ll just stop by my apartment and grab my things?”

“What? No,” Hotch responded, frowning. “I’m coming with you. The whole point of all of this is to avoid being alone.”

And that’s how you ended up speeding down the highway like a madwoman, leaving Hotch in your dust, taking the stairs two at a time, and frantically scrambling to get your apartment in order. It wasn’t terrible; not as if you had rotting food sitting out or something (probably because you didn’t actually cook enough for that), but the recent caseload and spending so much time with Hotch in the mornings had certainly pushed general organization to the wayside. You shoved the growing pile of dirty laundry into your closet, straightened up the coffee table, and were in the middle of packing your suitcase when you heard a knock at the door.

Giving the apartment a quick once-over to make sure you hadn’t missed something utterly humiliating, you opened the door to an unimpressed Hotch.

“I could have pulled you over for speeding, you know,” he said as he strode into your living room.

“Yeah, sorry,” you said sheepishly, “I wanted to make sure this place wasn’t a mess the first time you saw it.”

He cocked an eyebrow and you realized how that came out - the first time, as if there were going to be many more - and you coughed and looked away.

“Anyways. I’m almost done packing, just gotta grab a couple more things.”

He nodded and you hurried to it, wanting to get him out of your apartment as quickly as possible. Normally you’d have jumped at the chance to be alone in a quiet place with him, but the way his eyes were scanning the room made you nervous that he was learning more about you in a very short amount of time than you felt entirely comfortable with.

***

You walked into Hotch’s apartment for the second time ever to find it just as clinically neat as before, except for a set of sheets and blankets laid out on the couch. Grinning, you gestured to them.

“Thought you said you were sure I would say no?”

It was his turn to be shamefaced. “Just in case. Besides,” he shot back, grabbing your bags from where you’d deposited them by the couch, “You’re taking the bed.”

“Like hell I am!” you scoffed, forgoing propriety. “I’m not making my boss sleep on the couch in his own apartment.”

“Considering I, as you mentioned, am your boss,” he responded, “I will be making that decision.”

You plopped down on the couch. “Unless I just refuse to move.”

He stood a few paces away and glared, but gave up and dropped your bags all the same.

You could have sworn you heard him mutter “brat” under his breath, but that didn’t sound like something Aaron Hotchner would say, did it?

Taglist (I got a bunch of new ones so message me if I forgot to add you!):  @stop-drop-and-drumroll @criminalmindzjunkie @xoprincessmel @cevanswhre @addie5264 @klinenovakwinchester​ @honeyshores​ @violentvulgarvolatile @masumiyetimziyanoldu @violetclifford​ @pipersaccomplice​ @itsmytimetoodream​ @groovygoob​ @captainhyenafan​ @thebadassbitchqueen​

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x y/n #criminal minds fanfiction #aaron hotchner #Criminal Minds #hotch #standards of performance #criminal minds smut #aaron hotchner imagine #thomas gibson #hotch fanfiction #hotch x you #spencer reid #derek morgan #david rossi #penelope garcia #jj #emily prentiss #fanfiction #ao3

[ateezmakemeweep]

first time with bf!yunho

word count: 3k

fluff, smut

request

you experienced many firsts with yunho. whether they were innocent or devastating or just plain horrific, he had been by your side for every one. 

like on your first day of school when you both stood side by side during line-up, holding back tears as your moms waved goodbye to you. he had towered over you even then, wiping the wetness from his eyes and waving shyly at you. 

his quiet, shaky “hi,” made your body cave in on itself, nervous and uncomfortable in the new environment but waving at him nonetheless. because even at five-years-old, you found his presence comforting.

and by the time lunch came around, the two of you were inseparable, sharing crackers and blocks before running out to your moms at three o’clock hand-in-hand.

or your first broken bone that was just two years later, when there was a boy in your class known to bully all of the girls. it’s like he got some sick sort of pleasure from pulling their hair and hearing their cries, hurting almost every female student that was his age.

and on that particular day at recess, you were his target. during a fun game of tag when, with you hot on his tail and about to whack his back, he stuck out his foot and caused you to flop right onto the concrete. the skin had been ripped and oozing blood, your arm hanging in a way that still haunts yunho to this day.

but he signed his name the biggest on your cast, circling the sloppy writing with a heart and designating himself your personal bodyguard during lunch and recess. (and then he confessed to you years later that he gave his first bloody nose to the idiotic boy who tripped you).

your first period was probably the most embarrassing first with yunho, just given the fact that you both were awkward preteens sitting next to a puddle of menstrual blood. because one second you guys were playing video games on his bed and the next, a weird, wet feeling creeped down your leg causing you to  jump up and scream.

yunho had laughed at first, celebrating the fact that he had won before his face quickly paled when he looked down at his bed and then your horrified expression.

“y/n, it’s okay,” he had said immediately, comforting you in a way you don’t think any other 12-year-old boy would’ve. but at the time, you could only stand there with your face flaming in embarrassment, tears brimming your eyes. 

and when he was about to tell you that he was gonna get his mom and that everything was gonna be okay, you ran out of his house before he could say anything. you cried into your pillow that night and convinced yourself he was gonna hate you, think that you were a gross and disgusting weirdo for the rest of his life.  

but then the next day, he had showed up at your house with a chocolate bar and a heated blanket (the same heated blanket you still have to this day). “i heard girls like chocolate when they’re on there...well, yeah you know,” he had laughed out awkwardly, “and this heated blanket is supposed to help, like with the pain or something.” 

he had showcased it proudly, his excited smile causing the humiliation inside you to lessen. and then after he demanded a rematch of the game so casually, insisting he didn’t feel right about winning in unfair circumstances, you knew you were gonna have nothing to worry about when it came to him.

your first kiss with yunho was merely practice for both of you. or at least that was the story you had went with. because as the two of you sat in your basement, a slew of comedy movies and snacks taking up your friday night, you’d begun to talk about all the new budding romances in your friend groups.

“she said he french kissed her,” you told yunho, his face pinching into one of disgust.

“is that when you stick your tongue down someone’s throat?” 

“i think so, yeah,” you sighed out, shrugging your shoulders as you look back at the television. “they’re french kissing and i haven’t even done normal kissing.”

and after he had confessed he hadn’t done normal kissing either, you both looked at one another before deciding that...

“what if we were each others first kiss?” he said with a smile. “that way we get it over with and if it’s bad, it doesn’t matter because we’re friends.”

you thought about it for a moment, looking at the boy with floppy brown hair and pink cheeks and deciding there were far worse people to have a first kiss with. 

it was as awkward and clumsy as most first kisses were, your noses bumping the first time and causing you both to giggle. “i’ll go this way,” you told him, turning your neck way further than necessary and closing your eyes. but it brought success, you suppose, because then your dry lips brushed for a few seconds. 

the placement was a bit miscalculated and you were both fairly stiff but the feeling and excitement of it all still made you pull back innocently, wide eyes staring at one another.

your hand then slapped over your mouth as his face morphed into one of utter shock. “was that...did we do it right?” 

and even though you were unsure at the time, your racing hearts and clammy hands were an indication that, while you’d done it poorly, you had done it right.

“i think so,” he said, completely baffled by the fact that someone would be able to somehow stick their tongue up in there. 

“oh...cool.”

your first heartbreak was when you realized just how much you’ve come to need yunho. because the second he walked through the doors of the funeral parlor, you were hit with an immediate sense of comfort and relief.

he took you outside when you told him you hadn’t been able to look up from your feet, the presence of the casket in front of the room far too much for you to handle. he sat with you on the stoop in the cold air, his arm around you as you cried into him and felt incredibly grateful that he didn’t try to speak to you.

he didn’t ask if you were okay or tell you your grandma was in a better place or beg for you to stop crying. he just held you and stayed beside you the whole time, his lips pressing against your forehead when you finally had the strength to get up.

and then he guided you inside by the small of your back, rubbing the black material of your dress gently before letting you say your goodbyes. and after you did, you sat back down with him and didn’t leave his shoulder for the rest of the night. 

“i don’t know what i’d do without you sometimes,” you whispered tearfully. he took your face in his large hands, dabbing at the tears on your cheeks.

“me either,” he mumbles lowly, soft eyes looking right at you before pressing a kiss to the top of your head. he had thought you’d only said that because you were vulnerable, leaning on him as a friend and finding solace in the way he comforted you in your time of need.

but then a few short weeks later, he became your first boyfriend. everything had stemmed from a silly question of truth or dare that night, the inevitable “did you ever have a crush on anyone in this room?” being uttered. 

and in the same way it was discovered your friend and yunho’s friend had liked each other for a few years, the tall boy shyly admitted he had once liked you. your eyebrows shot up in surprise, secretly harboring feelings for the boy for half your life but being too scared to ruin the friendship. 

but all your friends had just rolled their eyes and clapped mockingly, grumbles of “shocker” and “everyone knew that” before moving on to the next question. so you didn’t get to talk with him until after everyone went home, always being the last to stay at yunho’s and hang out for a little bit of extra time.

“so when did you like me?” you asked teasingly, leaning in to raise your eyebrows playfully. 

a strangled chuckle leaves his mouth as he lightly pushes you to the side, the pink flush on his cheeks causing you to smile softly. 

“i liked you, too, you know.”

his eyes widen at your confession, the smile lighting up his face causing something warm and fluttery to shoot through your chest. “really? when?”

“hmm,” you mumble, trying to pinpoint the exact time you even realized your feelings for him; it always just felt like they were there from the second you met him, realizing how special and sweet he was. but you suppose you really started to realize “maybe during the time my grandma passed away. like i always knew i needed you but that kind of made it really obvious.”

yunho nods his head, remembering that time incredibly well. he had always felt like he was taking advantage of your emotional state, allowing himself to be there for you in the way he always knew he wanted to because you needed him.

“same,” he says honestly, “maybe even before that though, honestly. it feels like it’s been forever.”

a small giggle leaves your mouth as you nod, laying down to rest your head on his lap. he doesn’t even bat an eye as he looks down at you, smiling up at him and feeling his hands in your hair.

a few moments of silence pass, his eyes looking into yours like he wants so badly to tell you something but hesitance and anxiety and the fear of vulnerability are holding him back. “can i tell you something?” he eventually mumbled lowly.

you nod against his lap, looking up at him with wide eyes that are inevitably what made him crack.

“i...still might like you,” he says lowly, the pink spreading on his cheek only further heightening how pure and juvenile the confession is. “but if you don’t feel the same, we can act like this never happened. i just might be-”

“i like you too,” you tell him, straight-forward and confident because you’ve been waiting for this moment for so long. 

you laugh when he acts completely shocked, his eyes wide and repetitive “really?” throughout the rest of the night and your constant assurance that yes, you really really like him making him smile proudly.

you spent the night the way you always did with him, giggling and teasing with your head on his shoulder or his hand in yours. and then at the end of the night, he asked you to be his girlfriend with that cute pinkness on his cheeks.

the same pinkness on his cheeks there now, five months later, as you two fumble on his bed together. all open mouthed kisses as you straddle him, the familiar feeling of his hardness underneath you, your moans swallowed by him as his large hands kneads at your ass.

bringing in the sexual component of your relationship had been surprisingly easy, hugs and hand-holding exchanged for kissing and lapping tongues. but that’s as far as it got, making out and grinding, because you guys were almost always interrupted whether it be by ringing phones or nosy adults.

but tonight, yunho’s parents were out of town and the air was growing thicker in his room, your hips grinding down on him as you rub against him and let out a tiny moan.

“y/n,” he groaned out, “please be careful, love.” because between the feel of you on him and the sound your moans, he felt himself losing it.  

“why?” you hum quietly, disconnecting your lips to trail them down his neck. “don’t you wanna?”

his large, strong hands pull you off of him and onto your back. his figure looms above you, his arms holding himself up as his heated gaze looks down at you. 

“of course i do,” he says, his finger tracing your red, puffy lips. “but are you ready? i don’t want you to feel like we have to just because the house is-”

“i want to, yunho,” you whine, arching your back as you feel that wet, needy feeling growing within you. “i want you. i’ve wanted you for months.”

he swallows the lump in his throat, overwhelmed by the sight of you flushed and withering underneath him. because he wants you too, has wanted you so for long and can’t even believe it’s actually about to happen. 

but he also needs making sure you really want too, that you’re not just seeing this as an opportunity to not be interrupted and-

“stop thinking,” you whine to him, wrapping your arms around him and pulling him down. “i’m ready, i promise.” and it’s with those words that he looks at you, squinting his eyes to triple check before smiling when you poke his cheek.

and that’s how your first time with yunho starts, gentle kisses and soft touches as he slides down your leggings and underwear. the cold air hits your skin and you let out a shaky breath, tugging at the bottom of his shirt and biting your lip when he exposes his broad shoulders.

“what?” he asks shyly, like he has anything to be insecure or embarrassed about. 

but you only answer by discarding your own shirt and pulling his pants down, pushing him on his back and taking his cock in your hand. it’s just as big as you expected from feeling it underneath you and grinding your core against it. 

you hum in excitement, looking up at him as your tongue swirls around the tip. “baby,” he croaks out, your mouth pulling into a smirk before taking him in fully. you listen to the sounds of his loud groans and pants, his hand fisting your hair and hips just barely bucking into your mouth.

you gag when his large length hits the back of your throat, a strangled apology leaving his mouth that only makes you bob your head faster. you lick and suck and twirl your tongue skillfully, thinking about all the times you wanted his cock in your mouth before you got interrupted. 

and the eagerness seems to be too much for him, because you feel his legs tense and hips buck again before pulling your head back slightly by your hair. 

“y/n, that feels so fucking good,” he grunts out, “but i wanna come in you, baby, please.” 

and you want that too so you nod your head sweetly, wiping at your wet mouth and then squealing when your pushed onto back. 

“but first, let me play,” he mumbled lowly in your ear, your eyes widening when his large hands and long fingers snake down your stomach and over your slit. the wetness makes him smirk, placing a kiss on your neck as he places his finger on your clit.

the next few moments are bliss, your legs shaking and spread as you begin to pant and whine under him. your breathy moans of “oh my god” only seem to spur him on, toying at your clit and making even more wetness gather at your thighs. 

“you’re being so good, baby,” he grunts out, “such a good, wet girl for me.”

and like it’s a reward, his finger slides into you and you a loud moan escapes your mouth. they only grow louder and longer as you become consumed by pleasure, his fingers pumping in and out of you as his thumb frantically rubs over your clit.

“yunho, please, oh, my fucking go- i’m gonna-”

he feels you clench around his fingers and thinks twice about allowing you to come until he sees your head arch back, fingers grabbing at the sheets as your loud moans and screeches fill the room.

he watches your chest heave up and down, his cock hardening to the point of pain at the sight of you boneless under him. but then your head pops up, face flushed and hair messy, and you lazily smile at him.

“you’re good at that.”

the statement makes him chuckle and kiss you sweetly, his hand running through your hair to pat the sweaty strands down slightly. “are you ready or do you wanna-”

and even in your daze, you roll your eyes and pull him down to deep your kiss. the feel of his cock brushing against your thigh causes excitement to stir between your legs, your hips bucking up as a smirk crosses his lips.

“didn’t know you’d be so eager,” he says, reaching down to trail the tip of his cock across your clit.

“didn’t know you’d be so good,” you counter back. and he only smirks down at you again before taking your cheek in his hand, moving your head so you can look right at him.

“i don’t wanna hurt you,” he says softly, his finger brushing against your warm skin. 

“and you won’t,” you say, putting all your trust in him. because you think even if he tried, he wouldn’t hurt you. he would never allow himself too.

but it doesn’t lessen his fears, licking at his lips anxiously before he nods his head. “i’ll be slow. try not to tense, okay?” and slow he was, inching himself in further and further as you do your best to remain relaxed on his bed.

because while the feeling isn’t awful, there is a slight sting that makes you bite the inside of your cheek. but then you feel full and stretched and let out a sigh of relief as yunho rubs at your hip soothingly. 

“you okay?” you nod your head at him, all wide-eyed and glossy, and he didn’t think he’d have to stop himself from slamming into you. 

“move,” you encourage softly, “i’m okay. i promise.” 

the first few stinging thrusts are quickly replaced by something pleasurable, if your whines of “more” and his deep grunts weren’t an indication. and then once he finds his steady thrusts, it’s like everything both has just started and ends.

your legs spread wider as you claw at the back of his hair, watching his broad shoulders above you as he pushes himself in and out of you. he grunts out “i love you” just as he hits a spot deep within you that causes you to see stars, your own whiney, breathy love confession filling the room.

you come when his finger goes back to your clit and rubs along it, the sound you yelping his name causing him to release inside you. and if you weren’t so dazed by two orgasms, the sound of his heavy breathing would absolutely have you prepared to go for another round.

but you can only lay there with your eyes closed, wincing when his large length pulls out of you and he drops a kiss on your hip. he cleans between your legs with the shirt on his floor, dapping at the wetness gently as his eyes roam over your body.

“are you okay?” he asks, voice gentle and sweet as he lays back down next to you. your eyes pop open to see him looking at you softly, a smile spreading on your face as you nod your head.

“good,” he says, placing a kiss on your cheek that causes you to giggle. you move over and bury your face in his broad chest, smiling when you feel him drop another kiss on the top of your head. 

you spend the rest of the night wrapped in one another, alternating between snacks and movies and more sex. he laughs as you clumsily climb on top of him and try to ride him, lasting for all about ten seconds before the burn of the unfamiliar position has you accepting defeat.

“you know, it’d be a lot easier if your cock wasn’t ginormous,” you grumble, a loud laugh leaving the boy and it was the first time you’ve seen yunho’s face turn that bright a shade of red.

#yunho #yunho smut #yunho fluff #ateez #ateez smut #ateez fluff #request

[siren-queen-imagines]

Talking To the Moon: Chapter 4

Summary: REBOOT: Cassidy Fernandez, an omega, finds herself in Beacon Hills and smack dab in the middle of a war between the hunting Argent family and new alpha werewolf Derek Hale. She joins his pack and helps him with his newly turned betas, growing close to Derek and beta Isaac in the process. Will these budding relationships be too distracting as the pack deals with hunters and a monster running around? Takes place during Season 2 (spoilers!).

Masterlist

Previously...

Chapter 4: Abomination

_____________________————————————— 

New day means new lesson. In this case it was a fighting lesson.

Today, Derek set up a couple of obstacles in the way so that his betas could get across them before engaging him in a fight. Since Boyd was still healing from his bite, it was Isaac and Erica’s day.

Boyd watched from the stairs, sitting on the steps with a smile as he watched Isaac make his way through the obstacles before being knocked down immediately by Derek.

“Again.” Derek told Isaac.

Isaac got back up to redo the mini course only to get the same outcome. Over. And over. And over again. Only this last time, Erica jumped from the top of the train car in an effort to surprise him. Derek heard her coming because he dodged her so she fell to the ground next to Isaac. Derek looked down at his betas with disappointment, his lips pressed into a thin line.

“Does anyone wanna try not being completely predictable?” Derek said, irritability lacing his tone.

Accepting his challenge, Erica decided to be unpredictable and jumped on Derek, wrapping her legs around him. She kissed him, letting out a small moan as he kissed her back. Cassidy felt a pang of jealousy hit her when that happened. But almost as fast as it happened, Derek got her off him, sending her back to the ground.

“That's the last time you do that.” Derek told her, wiping his mouth before briefly looking to Cassidy.

“Why? Because I'm a beta?” Erica pouted.

“No--” Both Derek and Cassidy said in unison.

“You’re underage! He’s almost 23!” Cassidy scolded her. She was a fine one to talk. She’s 17 and almost kissed Derek the previous night. Derek lightly nodded in agreement as he rolled his eyes.

“Because I have someone else in mind for you.” Derek said after glaring briefly at Cassidy for interrupting him. 

“Are we done? I got about a hundred bones that need a few hours to heal.” Isaac interrupted, wiping the dirt off his hands.

Derek looked down at Isaac with a fake look of concern. Cassidy knew this wasn’t gonna end well. She watched as he squatted down and motioned for his arm.

“Here?” Derek asked before he immediately broke Isaac’s arm causing Boyd, Erica and Cassidy to flinch. “A hundred and one. You think I'm teaching you how to fight? Huh? Look at me!” Isaac looked at Derek pain all over his face as Erica and Boyd watched in fear. “I'm teaching you how to survive!”

Derek let go of Isaac’s arm and stood upright. Isaac sat back up, holding his arm.

“If they wanted us dead why aren't they coming for us now? What are they waiting for?”

“I don't know. But they're planning something. And you, especially, know that's not our only problem. Whatever that thing is that killed Isaac's father, I think it killed someone else last night. Until Cassidy and I find out what it is, you all need to learn everything that we know. As fast as we can teach you.”

Derek went onto the train car leaving Cassidy with the betas. Cassidy sighed and knelt down next to Isaac.

“You mind if I check that?” Cassidy asked Isaac.

“You’re not gonna break it more, are you?” Isaac replied, pain etching his face.

“No.” She offered him a comforting smile. Isaac held out his arm allowing her to feel it out. Biting her bottom lip, she looked back up at him. “I’m gonna have to reset it. It’s gonna hurt.”

“Do it.” Isaac sighed and grit his teeth, preparing himself for the pain.

“On three. Ready? One--” Cassidy counted before quickly resetting his arm back to place as Isaac let out a cry of pain. “Sorry.” Cassidy stood upright and helped Isaac to his feet as Boyd had already helped Erica to hers. “You guys go ahead and take a break. Rest up and I’ll take over in about an hour, okay?”

Cassidy watched as the three betas headed to their ‘rooms’. With a sigh, she walked into the train car where Derek was sitting, deep in thought.

“Don’t you think that was a bit harsh?” Cassidy asked him calmly as she walked over to him.

“They’re not taking it seriously. They don’t get this is a matter of life and death.” Derek vented.

“They understand.” She sat down next to him. “You were a bit too hard on them right now. They all learn at their own paces and yeah, that sucks. But we have to do our best and getting angry all the time won’t help us or make them learn faster.”

Part of Derek hated how calm she was because she was talking some sense. That part wanted her to yell at him for being the way he was. Hell, even if it were for about kissing Erica back.

“Listen, about that thing with Erica--”

“Don’t worry about it. Last night was a heat of the moment thing, right? It’s not like anything happened. “She looked down at her hands. “Plus, what I said about Erica, you know? I’m 17...it wouldn’t be right for us to--”

“Yeah.” Derek agreed, nodding as he followed suit in looking down at his hands. 

“Anyway we should be focusing on the Argents and this thing killing people right now.”

“Speaking of. I think I know where to start.”

____________--------------------------------

Later that night, Erica and Boyd’s jobs were to go to the lacrosse game for a while until Derek can question Stiles about what happened at the car garage he was at when the monster struck. Isaac had to remain out of sight so Cassidy decided to stay with him at the station. She was technically on standby in case Derek needed her help.

So Isaac and Cassidy decided to hang out and watch a movie on Cassidy’s laptop. They decided to go full on movie theater with popcorn and soda in the dark to see it better. The two teenagers decided to watch ‘Dumb and Dumber’ as their second movie of the night.

Laughter filled the room as Lloyd Christmas fantasized about fighting a bunch of guys for the heart of his love interest.

“Could you ever see yourself having as elaborate of a fantasy as this?” Cassidy asked Isaac.

“I mean, kinda but I don’t think it would be this crazy.” Isaac replied with a chuckle.

Cassidy took some popcorn from the bowl and ate it as she glanced over secretly at Isaac. It was nice to see him comfortable, smiling and without a care in the world at the moment. He had a really nice smile and she would like to see it more often.

“You still staring?” Isaac looked over at her, a cocky smirk on his face.

Cassidy coughed, choking on a popcorn kernel in surprise. She took a drink from her soda to stop it.

“I wasn’t staring.” She denied, watching the movie.

“Mm hmm. That’s why I caught you watching me out of the corner of your eye.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t get me wrong, I’m flattered. Really.”

Cassidy made eye contact with Isaac...huge mistake because she found herself lost in his blue eyes. She would be lying if she said she didn’t find him endearing from the moment they met. Maybe this was a sign that she could and should spend more time with him.

“Cassidy!” Erica’s voice called out from the distance.

Cassidy got up and went to where she heard Erica’s voice was coming from, Isaac following her.

“The t-thing, it-it’s got Stiles and Derek trapped at the school.” Erica told her as soon as she laid eyes on the alpha, Boyd helping her stand upright.

“Where at the school?” Cassidy asked her.

“The pool. They’re in the water.”

“Okay. Guys? Will you take care of that?” Cassidy motioned at the blood on the side of Erica’s temple.

“Yeah. I guess we’ll have to discuss this more some other time then, huh?” Isaac asked Cassidy as she grabbed her shoes.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She smiled at him before she left.

________--------------------------------------

Cassidy heard the shriek of the creature and followed the sound. It was then she ran into Scott coming out of the principal’s office, startling both teenagers.

“What are you doing here?” Scott asked Cassidy.

“I’m here for Derek and Stiles, what are you doing here?” Cassidy shot back.

“What’s going on with Stiles?”

“They’re trapped in the pool. We have to help them.”

The two werewolves rushed to the pool next to the gym, peeking inside to see the creature walking around the pool, waiting for them to swim to the edge.

“What’s the plan?” Cassidy whispered to Scott.

“One of us can distract the creature while the other gets Stiles and Derek out of the pool.”

“Alright. Here goes nothing.”

Both teenagers shifted and cautiously walked through the door leading to the pool. The creature was hiding it seemed as Stiles swam to get him and Derek to the diving board. Only when they made it, they both began to sink.

Seeing as the creature wasn’t around, both Scott and Cassidy pulled Stiles and Derek out of the pool. 

“Cass.” Scott called as the creature showed itself, slinking out of its hiding place.

Both Scott and Cassidy let out a roar to the creature, who advanced on them quickly. The creature tackled Scott off the diving board but the wolf recovered quickly. Scott and Cassidy stared down the creature, waiting to see if it would make a move. Cassidy went to attack it first but just as the creature flipped her over it, its tail grabbed Scott’s ankle, sending him crashing into a mirror and right next to Cassidy on the ground.

Both Scott and Cassidy got up and fast as they could when Scott saw no other choice but to grab a shard of glass he crashed into to use as a weapon. The creature stood there for a moment, Scott noticing the creature seeing its reflection in the glass he held. The creature advanced forward, bypassing Scott and climbed out of the building through the glass roof.

“What the hell was that?” Cassidy asked Scott as they looked over to Stiles and Derek, who watched on, Derek holding himself up on the diving board.

“I don’t know.” Scott answered as he and Cassidy shifted back.

_______----------------------------------------

“You okay?” Cassidy asked Derek quietly a few feet away from Scott and Stiles, who were on a laptop.

“Yeah. I’m getting feeling back.” Derek replied as he flexed his fingers. “Erica--”

“She got out. She and Boyd are back at the safe house with Isaac.”

“I know what it is.” 

“What is it?”

“Is that even a language?” Stiles asked irritably as he stared at the laptop, interrupting them.

“How are we supposed to figure out what this thing is?” Scott asked, sharing the same sentiment as Stiles.

“It's called a kanima.” Derek said as he and Cassidy walked over to them.

“You knew the whole time.” Stiles guessed irritably.

“No. Only when it was confused by its own reflection.”

“It doesn't know what it is.” Scott stated his thoughts aloud.

“Or who.”

“What else do you know?” Stiles took his turn.

“Just stories. Rumors.”

“But it's like us?” Scott tried to make sense of it.

“A shape shifter, yes, but it's--it's not right. It's like a--”

“An abomination.” Stiles finished for Derek.

Derek nodded at Stiles before he and Cassidy turned to leave.

“Derek?” Scott called out to them, stopping them. “We need to work together on this. Maybe even tell the Argents.”

“You trust them?” Derek hissed.

“Nobody trusts anyone! That's the problem. While we're here, arguing about who's on what side, there's something scarier, stronger and faster than any of us, and it's killing people and we still don't even know anything about it!”

“I know one thing, when I find it? I'm gonna kill it.”

Derek walked away from the teenagers. Cassidy looked over to Scott and Stiles, sheepishly.

“About this kanima, I agree but I don’t know if we could trust the Argents.” Cassidy told them. “Maybe your girlfriend but the rest? I don’t think so.” Cassidy looked in the direction Derek walked off. She pulled out her phone and gave it to Scott. “Maybe we can work together on this. Just don’t expect me or Derek to have anything to do with the Argents. I can’t stop you if that’s what you choose. If we learn anything, I’ll call you.”

Scott decided to take that as it was because he put his phone number into Cassidy’s phone. He gave his phone to Cassidy so she could do the same.

“If anything, right now, we have to trust each other on this one.” Cassidy added. “At least, I’m willing to. Take care guys. See you tomorrow.”

Cassidy gave Scott his phone back and  walked in the direction Derek went. She found him waiting for her, leaning against his car.

“You know we shouldn’t trust the Argents.” Derek told her.

“I know. But I think we should trust Scott.” Cassidy said, stopping in front of her fellow alpha. “If he wants to deal with the Argents, fine, but he knows I’m only willing to work with him.”

“What about me?”

“Of course.”

“And if I ask you to keep something from Scott?”

“I will. We have to trust each other, right? It’s the only way you and I are gonna make this pack leaders thing work. But if I think it’ll be beneficial to the whole ‘investigation’ thing about the kanima, I will make sure you know how I feel about keeping it from him.”

“I wouldn’t expect anything less.” Derek offered her a nod as he opened the passenger door of his car for Cassidy. “I have an idea of where to start.”

Cassidy waited until Derek got to his side of the car and got in before she asked her next question, “Where?”

“Remember that bite I told you I gave before Isaac?”

“Yeah? That Jackson kid, right?”

“Yup. We start with him. And until we’re sure it’s him, don’t tell Scott.”

“And how exactly do you plan to be sure?”

“Trust me. I got a plan already.”

#talking to the moon #teen wolf #teen wolf fanfiction #teen wolf fanfic #derek hale #derek hale fanfic #derek hale imagine #isaac lahey #isaac lahey fanfic #isaac lahey imagine

[mylifeinhopeworld]

Hear you

 Smut game prompts #27 #45

It was pretty late when you finally came back to the dorm from the restaurant. You had been out eating with some of your boyfriend’s idol friends and, since you and Kihyun were in the taxi that brought you back home, you had felt his gaze on you constantly.

“What’s wrong, babe?” you asked, concerned by his abnormal attitude.

“Nothing, I’m just tired and I was thinking about the conversation from earlier.”

You nodded and shrugged it off as nothing. After putting on your pajama shorts and tank top, you decided to wait for him before going to sleep. As he climbed onto the bed, you felt his hand on your thigh and his lips grazing your neck. You quietly leaned into his touch before turning to connect your mouth to his. He moved over you, never breaking your embrace. and whispered into your ear.

“Are my lips are the only ones that you think about kissing like this, love?”

You pushed him back a little and raised an eyebrow.

During the dinner, you had noticed how flirty the guys were with you, but you didn’t really pay attention to them. Kihyun, however, didn’t seem to like it one bit and you were now sure he got a little jealous.

“Did you see the way they were looking at you? Especially him. I can’t believe he actually thought he could get away with this.”

The youngest had been particularly focused on you earlier and often stared at you for a little too long for it to be normal. You had tried avoiding his eyes, but laughed at his flustered expression when you caught him staring at your ass when you got up. He knew you had a boyfriend, but you couldn’t blame him since you knew he had a crush on you for the longest time. Kihyun didn’t seem to think the same way as you did because he looked more than annoyed.

“What if...” ,he started before lightly sucking on your neck, “What if we show him who you belong to? I don’t want you holding back, okay love?”

“But everyone is here! They’ll hear us...”

“That’s exactly what I want. And don’t you ever think you’re taking control tonight, princess.”

He knew exactly what to say to get you in the mood in seconds and he used it to his advantage. He left kisses all over your neck and collarbones as he whispered against your skin, earning a few sighs and moans before taking off his shirt and your top. He pushed you back and his hungry lips were on yours in a matter of seconds. He led every movement and you whimpered against him when his hands traveled up to cup your breasts. He took off your bra with ease and his fingers teased your nipples as he started grinding his hard bulge against you, enjoying the small noises you were making. 

“Didn’t I tell you that I wanted sounds? Don’t be shy, I want to know how I’m making you feel.”

He took off your shorts and moved down, hovering over your already wet core. 

“I can see how needy you are, even with your panties on. You knew that what you did earlier would make me mad, didn’t you?”

You looked down at him with a confused look. “What do you mean? I was just-”

He cut you off by pressing a finger to your sensitive clit, making you whimper. “ Don’t mess with me, you know Changkyun has a crush on you. Why did you keep looking over and smiling at him? Did you do it just to annoy me?”

He didn’t even let you answer before pulling off your panties and starting to tease your bud with his tongue, making you gasp at the sudden stimulation.

“Kihyun, Fuck.”

He smirked before slipping his fingers between your folds. You moaned his name again, your hand reaching down to his hair.

“Look at you, you’re so desperate. Tell me who’s making you this wet? Is it him? Or me?”

He pulled his fingers out of you before pulling his pants and boxers down and lining up his hard length with your entrance. 

“Please. It’s you, Kihyun, it’s always you.”

He chuckled. “Then show me how badly you want me, baby.”

He started thrusting into you, starting at an agonizing pace and accelerating with each one of your whines. It wasn’t long before you started crying out his name, not bothering if the others could hear you anymore. He was rougher than usual, slamming his hips against your harder than he ever did before. Every sound that came out of your mouth drove him crazy and he wanted to hear more. He knew everyone else in the dorm could hear you too, especially Changkyun, whose room was right next to his. 

His thrusts became messier and it wasn’t long before you both came together, legs shaking and each other’s names falling from your mouths. After a few minutes you sat up, still out of breath, his cum dripping out of your core. 

“Well, I guess I’m going to have to clean myself up now.”

He kissed you again, hands cupping your cheeks.

‘‘Oh no, babe, I’m not done with you. We just started…’’ 

#monsta x smut #kihyun smut #yoo kihyun smut #dom!kihyun #jealous kihyun #smut game #request

[skinfeeler]

meandering diary post, or the melancholic tale of my 24-hour completely onesided romance in the context of the human condition

[[MORE]]

i've been a member of a student organisation for queer people for about half a year now. this means that i hadn't attended an introductory period yet — once an academic year, at the start of it — but that i knew basically everyone who organised it.

after a few days of miscellaneous activities that were mostly 'okay' (minus a drunk fall of my bike at some point) i knew a couple more people. still, it was nothing like the summer camp at the end of it.

the first 90% of the journey was by train. i shared four seats facing each other with three other people, including a girl who was slightly taller and a bit older than me. she had brought a wine bottle and so it happened that the four of us already started drinking at about 15, not even at the camp yet.

we got along though— especially this girl and i. we talked a bunch about the kinds of exercise/sports we like. she was my second round that day in explaining the rules of roller derby, i can do it in about 20 seconds now with the help of the images from the 'basics' section of this article: http://mtlrollerderby.com/the-rules-of-roller-derby/?lang=en w

e also talked about gender a bit. it went all right. we had a later conversation in our bunk that day where we really bonded, about trauma too and all that stuff.

"we have a bond, i think."

that was later though, for now i was still on my way. at some point i turned inwards as i sometimes do and during one of the transfers while outside she pulled me away and asked me if i was all right. i explained that i just have a few issues and that sometimes they played up. she gave me the big scarf she was wearing and told me to put it over my head and narrow my field of vision that way, just kind of hide in it. that that's what she does when she's not well. that was nice of her.

we missed the train-bus connection because we went to the supermarket of the small remote village to buy more wine, but we got picked up by a second bus a bit later.

once at the place i changed into a sexier outfit and instantly felt more confident. this was immediately crushed once people started making (completely benign) jokes about std tests. i started thinking about my own test and the rape that happened before it and just went sit somewhere with a beer bottle to be sad. one of the people who i knew was an organiser but didn't personally know asked me if i was all right and i stood up and tried to ask if we could go outside for a bit, but didn't manage to speak because i was already crying. fortunately he understood the cue. i told him about that i got triggered and he made sure to make it clear to me that the committee would do its best to look after me if i allowed him to tell that sometimes i get like this, with them not having to know what exactly. i took him up on the offer, and it helped that subsequently an organiser would occasionally come to me when i lost my vibe, which was quite often.

but in that moment just knowing people actually take it seriously was enough, and i told him that the best thing now would probably just be to rejoin the party and chug my beer, and so we returned inside and so i did.

a while later i lost a good portion of my energy again. in a fateful moment, i decided to go back to my room which i shared with others. my new friend was talking about speed with another girl, who ended up giving it to us.

"i'm done with this crap. you can have it if you want to."

i don't have the required associations to procure anything like this myself, so i thought i'd not pass up on the opportunity.

the four of us went back downstairs.

first i was cold, tired, and dull. now i possessed immense warmth, energy, and clarity, almost immediately.

i asked my friend if this is about what i should be feeling. she told me it was, but also immediately switched to her more caring tone and that i should be careful.

"if you ever want to try something, you can always do it at my place."

sounds like a fucked up bid to get me in a vulnerable situation, but given the context and her general conduct i am certain she really was just caring about me in a slightly dark way.

there were drinking games that we played in teams, in most of them chugging alcohol fast combined with skills of physical dexterity was determinant. in my current state, i was absurdly good at both on top of my usual degree of mastery and won us the tournament. it was nice to get cheered on lots— it was cool to be in a parallel dimension where suddenly the skills i had were brought up a number of times in the days after.

i had a great night. i hadn't been (that) happy in months. every moment my body was bursting with energy. i love dancing, and i especially love dancing when weird fellow mental cases who have taken it upon themselves for reasons i don't understand grasp both my hands, pull me in, and keep me very close to them. later we sat on a couch and i leaned against her and it was very nice. every time i asked her if she was uncomfortable she pet my head for a bit, so obviously i was instantly in love.

alcohol disables your mental safeguards and this can backfire. cigarettes just make you slow. speed simply solved every problem instantly.

we danced until 0400. after that we were offered a joint by someone and we passed that around in a circle so we could sleep better. it worked very well, but by the time we went to bed, it was simply almost time to get up, and they don't fuck around with schedule at student camps.

i woke up in agony because the day before i went on camp i had a really intense derby training, and when i dance, i really love to bring my hips into it. everything between my waist and knees was searing, burning, i had to stretch and massage until i took the edge off enough that i could convince myself that i wasn't injured. the night before i hadn't felt anything at all. obviously i was also more hungover than ever before, but like, whatever. because i value a varied diet and a rigorous exercise routine, i decided to take it easy from thereon, only start drinking in the evening, et cetera. i was already going to skip sunday training for this, and additionally there are a few resistance training goals that i want to meet in the near future.

these three felt otherwise. they would go on to drink all day. it was very difficult to talk to any of them, although they seemed to be having fun though. i was kind of bothered that i couldn't talk to this girl meaningfully at all anymore at some point, so during that day and the last day of camp i kind of stopped feeling something for her entirely, which was very odd, completely unlike how it usually goes for me.

we played some games, including a quiz. my team won the quiz, but not the other game.

that night most of my acquaintances were absent for the first part. the sweet autistic metalhead i met earlier had gone to her one-person bedroom to decompress, the three from the start were apparently on a walk that i couldn't safely participate in, the others were fuck knows where. i was in a really, really bad mood. i knew that speed would solve all my problems, allow me to join the dance party going on. instead i wasted away on a couch for a while.

then there was dinner, and then an awards show. two games won (the beer game counted) meant i was called in front twice and won a shot of hard liquor as a price, thus twice in a row. very convenient for my fealty to fitness, but at least nice.

afterwards, a number of friends were periodically back on the dance floor in shifts, and the shots were doing their job. the nice thing about shots is that they mean you don't constantly have to piss as with beer, so they made a nice base for the rest of my consumption that night.

i found my new favorite pop song dancing with the girl who i have a particular unbreakable fealty to— that resultant from me breaking down in her arms about a girl not liking me back earlier that year lol

that girl would eventually do some things to me that would present one of the main causes of me at times completely turning inwards and become unable to talk to people, simply looking on and knowing my humanity has been taken away from me by many people.

but right there, dancing, knowing i was surrounded by people who care about me even if i am nothing like then, i was doing just fine, despite having quietly had a mental breakdown on that couch where everything at once played up.

eventually the music selection turned to shit and i decided to do the smart thing and have six hours of sleep instead of two. some sweet angels made sure to coax me into drinking lots of water.

"you'll be grateful in the morning."

a decent night, minus the transmisogynist components of some sketch one of the members of the previous committee did. i'll talk to her about it soon and i'm confident she'll understand how it was hurtful— i had a drunk conversation with two other girls in the restroom about it and they were fully behind me and encouraged me to do this.

the next morning almost everyone was still drinking, despite the fact that most of the day we would just spend in a bus bringing us back from the middle of nowhere.

at some point i sat down on a couch and for the first time in days, took out my ear buds and listened to some music i like.

it was cathartic and i had a particular kind of realisation.

i had spent an entire alcohol getting fucked up to music i could only tolerate there and then, under bright lights and with accompanying alcohol. drinking the kind of alcohol i don't like drinking because it's what was available, hanging out mostly with people with whom i have very little in common. in general, kind of losing myself.

i knew what i needed to do, what i can do soon. all i need to do is get out of this house to a better place, get my painting station set up, keep being involved in the roller derby, and maybe somewhere along the lines i would figure stuff out for myself.

of course, there are certain social circumstances that need to happen to me too, but i certainly can't do that while inert.

i had skipped the derby's general member's meeting on friday. it was the only one of the year, and i really wanted to attend. they were discussing attendance policies, and i feel i could've really learned a lot about the members of the league from that. debates about derby as its own reward and assuming the inherent joy of cooperation versus a dedication to structured sustained development and competitivity, or any of the ways one could frame that.

i had missed a training, when i had immediate short-term goals that i could have fulfilled that training.

the other rookies like me, and so does the trainer. not because of my ability to chug alcohol really fast — although i intend to impress them at the party we apparently have soon — but because of my dedictation, fervor, and general attitude.

maybe there is a common source to the fact that i can dance better than i can talk and that i feel i'm more meaningfully together with people when i'm on wheels than when i'm not, generally speaking at least.

it feels like there's a rift between me and the rest of humanity, but a little less on the track than most other places.

but then speed also helps.

it helps everything. it makes me feel happy.

but i know i can't actually take this as often as i would need without fucking myself up. still, on our way back, alienated and exhausted, i was constantly craving it.

when we got out of the bus and a people hugged me goodbye, i did meditate for a bit on the fact that i did create many new bonds. maybe i'll get more out of them than i felt by the last day, but it's complicated.

and now i'm at friends who fed me and gave me weed to finally fucking calm down. it's all right.

i miss my friends in london who i feel separated from only by distance.

[whoacanada]

Fic: The One Where Jack’s a Goalie - Part One

Summary: Jack Zimmermann comes out of rehab with a new lease on life and a desperate need to reconnect with the ice. However, he’s unwilling to place himself back in the spotlight so he decides to start his career over and retrain as a goaltender. With less judgment from his peers and little chance of going pro, Jack has a chance to be himself at Samwell, possibly for the first time in his entire life.

Pairing: Zimbits, references to past hookups

--

“You’re a goalie stuck in a forward’s body, Jack. I hope you never lose that spark.”

Jack remembers being fourteen and horribly offended. All he’d done was get a little excited about how the Royal Canadian Mounted Police transitioned into their modern incarnation. That’s it. He knows deep down his father meant it as a compliment but Jack knows goalies are quirky. Weird. They aren’t playmakers, they can’t be captains, they’re integral, necessary, but they aren’t stars. Jack’s supposed to be a star.

Jack says as much and his father stares him down with one brow arched playfully. 

“You’re laying on stereotypes pretty thick, bud. You’re telling me Patrick Roy wasn’t a playmaker? Sawchuck? Hell, I should call Martin and have him come down here himself. Goalies are the glue that keeps a team together, the last line of defense and the most entertaining people you’ll ever meet. Or the biggest bastards. Either way, you remind me of some of the best boys I’ve ever known.”

Bad Bob has made his point but Jack holds fast on his opinion for a long time. Through the Q, even when he’s exhausted and strung out and hating everything around him. He resents goalies on principle: they’re his natural enemy, keeping him from playing his best game. Eventually, he takes that dislike all the way to rehab.

“The professional pipeline discourages individuality in players that are marked for great things,” his therapist prompts. “You aren’t allowed to be an individual. We’ve discussed this before but I don’t think you’ve really examined why you project these judgments. Is it that goalies are ‘weird’, or is it that you resent the fact they aren’t judged as harshly as you were?”

At a Junior World Cup game, an announcer called Jack ‘a hockey-playing robot’ and the nickname stuck. It wasn’t long before scouts, news article, and people on the street he didn’t even know started calling him a ‘robot’ like it was a compliment.  

Goalies are weird. Quirky. Goalies can love history and old movies. Goalies can sing to Toto during timeouts. Goalies can be anxious. Goalies can have tantrums and yell and they don’t have to be perfect all the time. Goalies aren’t robots, they’re people.

Jack doesn’t cry during that particular session but it’s a near thing.

He comes home from therapy and starts researching how common it is to switch positions and still be a decent player. There isn’t much to work with but Jack has plenty of time and energy to spare. He isn’t planning on going pro, he just wants to play. He wants to have fun.

So, one night Bob makes him a dinner and Jack downs half a steak half before saying, “I think I want to be a goalie.”

Bob Zimmermann cuts an impressive figure, even sporting his ‘Check the Cook’ apron. He’s a little older, little grayer, more than a few of the lines around his eyes are Jack’s fault, but for all of Jack’s internalized fears of failure, perpetuated largely by growing up in the shadow of a legend, the man has always been a dedicated father. Jack’s overdose only proved it.

“You want to be a goalie?” Bob asks from across the kitchen, waving his spatula to mime what Jack thinks is supposed to be a mitt. “Goalie-goalie?”

“I think I’d like to play hockey again. Reset and start over. I can do that as a goalie. No pressure to be…well, me.”

His father contemplates him for a moment before grabbing an avocado from the bowl near the coffee machine and chucking it at Jack’s head; he barely dodges it when his mother yells, “Jesus, Bob!”

“I’m not a goalie yet,” Jack shouts, turning around to look at the dented avocado resting on the floor.

“Clearly,” Bob sighs and, to his credit, apologizes for throwing the fruit before asking, “You still want to learn to be a goalie?”

“If I say yes will you throw an orange at me?”

Jack fights the urge to retreat to his room when his father pulls out the chair beside him and sets a notepad down beside Jack’s half-finished plate, ‘To Do’ scrawled messily at the top, and directly below that, ‘new goalie pads’

“No, I was thinking about shooting some pucks at you, which might actually be worse. Let’s start with this.”

Like most things, it takes time. Jack starts developing a different set of muscles, does the same training exercises his pint-sized pee-wee goalies practice religiously. For months the Zimmermann’s entertain a steady stream of hockey legends bribed with beer and good company to help Jack practice his puck-stopping skills.

Never let it be said that Jack Zimmermann half asses anything.

He goes to therapy. Keeps a journal. Does breathing exercises and forces himself to be honest about the things he enjoys. When he wants to make a joke, he jokes. He chirps. With no chance of going pro, there’s no pressure to hide. Well, less pressure. He doesn’t want to accidentally out Kent, but if a cute boy smiles at him, he’s smiling right back.

Jack’s goalie pads might as well be a suit of armor. His pee-wee kids are in awe. His beer-league teammates are terrified. Eventually, his skill sets overlap and he’s not just a big fish in a small pond, he’s a shark; going crazy sitting around all day doing nothing but read and train. He needs something bigger, a challenge.

(His mother says he needs a boyfriend, but that’s debatable.)

When Jack decides he wants to go to school, Alicia’s alma mater of Samwell is a foregone conclusion. However, like most things regarding Jack, his reputation precedes him. When he goes to meet with the Dean regarding his slightly unorthodox admission, they find the head coach of the men’s hockey team has been invited to meet them as well.

“Jack’s not here to play hockey,” Bob says immediately, in lieu of a proper greeting, already tense. “He’s here to be a student.”

“Maybe not ‘normal’,” Jack amends, leaning against his mother’s side. She giggles behind her hand but composes herself quickly.

Hall, the newly appointed Men’s Hockey coach launches into his proposal emphatically, talking about the school’s repeated playoff berths and building the entire program around Jack. Bob is red-faced and looks like he’s about to flip a desk but Jack reaches over to rest a hand on his father’s arm to steady him.

“It’s okay. I think I’d like to do it,” Jack’s parents both turn to him in surprise. “Under one condition.”

“Anything you need,” Hall says quickly, unable to hide his excitement.

“I want to be brought in as a goalie.”

Hall’s smile falters.

“What?”

“I’m not a forward, anymore. I can understand if you aren’t looking for a —”

“No! No, um, we only have one goalie right now, I’m sure we can bring you in under Johnson until we see how you perform.”

A tentative verbal agreement is struck, hands are shaken, and Jack’s brimming with excitement he knows he can’t share just yet.

“Are you sure this is what you want?” His mother asks when they clear reception, wary of listening ears. “This wasn’t the plan, you don’t have to play if you don’t absolutely want to.”

Jack almost doesn’t answer, distracted by a flier tacked to a student notice board announcing an end of semester bonfire. He doesn’t miss the pride flag stamped in the corner and neither do his parents.

“One in four, maybe more,” Alicia teases softly, not for the first time since they’ve arrived.

“I know,” Jack glosses. “I still love hockey, if I’m terrible at it, no harm no foul.”

His father is less certain, a frown tugging at his lips as he guides them both toward the door.

“This is a Division 1 school, Jack. A degree is one thing, being a full-time college athlete is another. You’ll have eyes on you again.” Bob nods to the flier. “I just want to be sure you aren’t overextending yourself before you’ve even started.”

There are kids playing ultimate frisbee on the quad; beyond them, Jack can see a group of runners disappearing behind the science building. The sun is shining, the trees are in full bloom, and Jack desperately wants to be a part of something normal.

“If it’s too much, I’ll quit,” Jack promises, keeping stride with his parents as they head to the rental car. “Can’t hurt to try.”

(Two Years Later)

Johnson slaps Jack’s ass and says, “Look out, your timeline’s about to jack-knife.”

“You say that every week,” Jack settles into the crease and wiggles his hips, ready for the new frogs to show their stuff. “Still don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about, bud.”

There’s a hell of a freshman class this year, a lot of potential, a lot of risk, and the A on Jack’s sweater means he gets a chance to help mold the team into something great. He’s excited. He’s nervous.

“Don’t need to be the best,”Jack whispers to himself, watching Holster razz a small winger. “Only good and kind.”

The first issue of the season presents almost immediately. The short frog can’t take a check and goes down so hard it’s painful to watch. Jack doesn’t leave the net, lets Johnson investigate since he’s closer, but he watches like a hawk, trying to figure out what the issue is without engaging.

Hall said the kid used to be a figure skater, so clearly he isn’t used to contact, but he’s made it this far so he has promise. Everyone has promise and Jack feels a weird camaraderie: change is hard, he should know. 

Eventually, they slide the kid to Jack’s side of the rink and Jack finds himself staring down a set of bright brown eyes reddened by shame. 

“Bittle. C’mere.”

“Jack, right?” His accent catches Jack off guard in the best way. 

“So I’m told. Stand still,” Jack kicks off a little and slides into Bittle’s space at a glacial pace, slow enough Bittle has time to back up a few inches.

“What are you doing?”

“Checking you. You know ‘bunny slopes’, eh?” Jack realizes he needs to explain himself. He’s thinking about kids learning to ski on beginner courses and hooks his stick around Bittle’s leg to drag him forward so he bumps against Jack’s pads. “Bunny checks. Lapin check.”

“Are you making fun of me?” Bittle pushes back and frowns, hurt. “I know it’s stupid —”

“No, non,” Jack pushes his mask up and turns to set his stick up on the net. “Checking is hard, you need to start small.”

“Wait,” Bittle’s expression changes from wounded to confused. “You’re actually trying to help?”

From across the rink, Jack can see Murray watching them both with the same cautious optimism he showed after they awarded Jack the A. 

“Hall said you used to figure skate,” Jack says, nudging Bittle’s skate with his stick. “It’s hard adjusting to a different playing style, don’t let it get you down.”

“I played hockey in high school,” Bittle defends lamely, letting Jack maneuver him toward the bench.

“So did I,” Jack jokes, though Bittle doesn’t seem to find the same humor.

“Zimmermann! Give us back the frog!”

“Take it easy,” Jack orders, patting Bittle’s helmet awkwardly. “Keep your head up.”

Bittle offers a wary ‘thanks’ and heads back to the frog huddle while Shitty whips around to steal Jack’s water bottle.

“Think you spooked him trying to be all maternal. Trying to make that frog your new pet project? Gonna fix him up nice and pretty for the ball? Rescue him from a tower?”

“Maybe. Stop mixing metaphors. No one that fast should seize up so quick.”  

���Well someone needs to do something or he’s going to get bust down real fucking fast —” Shitty stops and gives Jack a hairy eye. “You got the look, brah. Crazy eyes. It’s too early in the season for that thousand-yard-stare.”

Jack smacks Shitty with his stick, mind already a million miles away. He needs to make a few calls, confer with his father, but he thinks he can sort Bittle out in a few weeks with some dedicated attention. He tells Hall and Murray as much.

“You’ve got more experience than anyone else on this team, if you think you can help, by all means,” Murray tells him, giving the program’s blessing.

It takes Jack half a day to plan out a schedule, a timeline of exercises before he realizes he hasn’t actually spoken to Bittle about the extra practices. Or anything at all beyond their initial interaction.

“Bro, you went crazy internal,” Ransom points out at dinner that evening. “Your psychology notes are a mess, looked like you were comparing stats.”

“I was…busy,” Jack defends, casually sliding a hand over his ‘notes’.

“Jackabelle, here,” Shitty slaps his tray down beside Jack and shakes him with a one-armed hug. “Is going to fix whatever’s fucking with Bittle. Operation: S.O.B.: Save-Our-Bittle.”

“Ha,” Jack scribbles a reminder to talk to Bittle in the morning. “Like Arrested Development.”

That night, Jack lies awake listening to the boys roughhouse upstairs, trying to figure out how he’ll broach the subject of extra training. 

He can fix this. He can fix Bittle.

The next morning at team breakfast, Bittle settles in across from Jack, a little to the left of Jack’s empty coffee cup. His plate is loaded with breakfast potatoes, Texas toast, and a few scant pieces of turkey bacon. It’s unbalanced for a preseason meal, but nothing that can’t be remedied so Jack rolls two hard boiled eggs from his plate onto Bittle’s; the frog will need the energy if they’re going to train together.

“Bittle.”

The kid blinks up, surprised.

“You need to eat more protein.”

#zimbits #check please #omgcp #omgcheckplease #jack zimmermann #eric bittle #the one where Jack's a goalie #and since he's not planning on going pro #he's just going to live his life #and fall in love with cute boys #I know the formatting is jacked I can't fix it #it's fine on my blog #but not on the feed and I'm sorry #please be an april fools glitch #this is going to drive me insane #AND YEaH I STOLE THE GOOD AND KIND LINE FROM THE DOG CARTOON #FIGHT ME #my stuff #my fic

[peachhoneii]

A Lesson in Dabbling

A/N: It’s gonna be May in less than a week!

The boys learn a lesson about the differences in duck biology. Unfortunately for Donald, it’s a bit more life threatening than he would like.

Louie did not like the communal pool. It was loud, rowdy, and there were too many people drifting in the waves their accumulated body masses created. He could have joined them. The waves were inviting in a way, but he kicked his feet idly in the waters seated on the edge of the pool. He stared ahead behind a pair of sunglasses as children splashed and swam.

Huey doggy paddled using his JW swimming float. Dewey was in the middle of an intense game of Marco Polo with their friends from school.

“Marco!”

“Polo!”

“Gilligan, you’re supposed to keep your eyes closed!”

“Look, last time I kept my eyes closed I ran into a pig’s hairy back.” He shot back at Jordan, whose shell swam circles around them, “And seriously, dude? You know I can’t catch you.”

Louie preferred to stay on land when they visited the communal pool. He counted down the minutes. At three he planned to visit the concession stand to buy a hamburger, soda, and fries. Uncle Donald sent them off with enough money for each, and it was his job to watch the money.

He patted his swim trunks pocket.

Gilligan threw his hands up in the air, giving up the chase. Dewey swam to the edge, gasping for breath, and grinned at him, “You’re staying on shore again?”

“The communal tub is a giant bath tub, and I want no part of it.”

“So, that’s why you’ve got your feet in there,” Jordan shouted for a second before diving again. He watched as his shell disappeared among the people.

“I do that for Uncle Donald.” He curled his bill in disgust, “He wants to make sure we had fun, and this is as much fun as I’m gonna get until we go to the water park.”

The water park was directly across the communal pool, and cleaner.

Dewey shrugged and readied to return to his friends. Turning his head, his face scrunched in confusion, “Gilligan, what are you doing, man?”

Louie shifted his view to where Dewey stared and asked the same question. The upper half of Gilligan’s body was submerged in water with his feet sticking high in the air. It would have been a funny sight to laugh at if he hadn’t remained completely still. His webbed feet didn’t twitch. His knees didn’t knob. There wasn’t a single trace of strain in his form. He went up and down, a consequence of the constant waves, but other than that, he was perfectly motionless.

“Gilligan? You okay, dude?”

Huey paddled towards him, “Gilligan?” He poked his bent knee experimentally, “We need to get him upright.”

“No, you don’t.” Jordan emerged from the waters, “He does this.”

They were about to ask what that meant when Gilligan suddenly jerked and sunk into the waters. He appeared right after, gasping loudly. His coarse, curly green feathers were weighed down with water. His gasp left his lips and was replaced with a sharp giggle, then a cackling laugh. He hooted, swishing water in every direction.

Huey, Dewey, and Louie stared in bewilderment.

“Yeah, man, that hit the spot!” He floated on his back, “I love doing that! You know how hard it is to get that thrill in the bathtub?”

“What was that?”

“We thought you were dead!”

“Can I do it too?”

Louie didn’t fall into the pool but leaned forward, eyes wide. He had never seen anything like that before. Gilligan stared back at them in confusion, glancing worriedly at Jordan who shrugged.

“I don’t know.” He admitted while he pushed his legs back and forth, “I’ve always done it. It feels good, but I can’t do it in the tub like this.”

“In the tub?”

“Yeah, you know when you hold your breath and dive under the water? It’s kind of like that. I feel…light…fuzzy…like I want to keep going until I reach something, but I know whatever it is isn’t there. Something like that.”

The boys glanced at each other and returned to Gilligan.

It was Dewey that broke their circle silence, “Guys, we gotta try that.”

Huey refused. He told them not to. The pitched slither in his tone stopped them from Dewey’s initial attempt, “We should find out more about what he did before trying,” and that pacified Dewey for the time being.

At three, Louie bought their lunch. They played in the pool. They went to the water park across the street, and when they returned home, they bathed and settled into their beds. Louie knew what to expect the next morning and fell asleep easily, glad he didn’t fall in the pool again.

“It’s something other ducks can do.” Huey was perched on the top bunk. He read in a clear, quiet voice that resonated in their small room; the JWG was held firmly in his hands, “Anas is a genus of dabbling ducks where the duck dives into shallow water in search of food.”

“You’re telling me they used to eat like that?”

“Kind of yeah.” Huey closed the book, “It appears they did it to eat aquatic plant life and insects in the water. As ducks evolved, their minds and bodies adapted to the change.”

“So why did Gilligan do it?”

“An instinctive nature designated for his species.” Huey’s expression turned thoughtful, “What is he anyways?”

“His mom is a black duck.” Louie turned over under the covers, “I saw her at the bake sale. Her peach cobbler is to die for.”

“And his dad?”

Dewey tapped his bill, “I think he’s a mallard. I saw him with Gilly after school a few weeks ago.”

“That seems to answer it.” He closed the book with finality, “Now, let’s have breakfast. I think Uncle Donald is making pancakes.”

“But wait,” Dewey grabbed his sleeve, “what about us? Can’t we do it?”

“Sorry, American Pekin Ducks aren’t a part of the Anas genus. We’re from a domesticated line.”

Louie rolled out of bed and rubbed his eyes. He watched Huey go down the hall and enter the kitchen. Dewey stood there with a frown on his face.

“Hey, don’t worry about it, bud.” He patted his back on his way out, “Not everyone can dabble, and besides, it’s a lost art. I doubt even Gilligan can do it perfectly.”

He went to the kitchen to eat pancakes, which Uncle Donald had made for the morning, leaving Dewey behind to ponder over his words in their bedroom.

Louie would see in hindsight that it was thoughtless of him to leave Dewey with that dangling sentence.

Uncle Donald was down for a nap. He was permitted to take naps every now and then when they boys were at school, and this continued when summer vacation was well under way. Huey was writing a report for the JW. Louie was watching Wisney afternoon cartoons in the living room. He was alone, or as alone as he could be.

He knew where Uncle Donald kept the water wear. The life jackets, the floaties, and the swim rings were stored in a cramped, little closet in the hallway. It didn’t take much to wiggle it through and put some air in it. He didn’t hurry outside, choosing to walk casually with the inflated ring under his arm. Louie didn’t stir from the television screen. Huey didn’t look up from his paper.

The deck was freshly washed and sparkled as a result. A seagull hadn’t left a dropping yet, the air was humid, and the water below looked inviting. He went to the railing and stared below. Calm waters. Good. It didn’t make sense for an attempt during stormy weather. He would have tried in the tub, but the tub was too small. Huey had made such a fuss about the pool that he didn’t even get a chance.

He wore his swimming trunks, wiggled the swimming ring around him, and stepped off the houseboat to go around into the water.

It was a cool like warm. He floated comfortably on side of the houseboat. All he needed to do was to turn his body over, and capture the feeling Gilligan had felt on that day.

“Where’s Dewey?”

Louie bit into his sandwich and shrugged, “Isn’t he in our room?”

“He isn’t in our room. I was in my room writing my paper for JWG. It’s about the ramifications of Roman -,”

“I think I saw him with a swimming ring a few minutes ago.”

“Why would he have a swimming ring?”

“I dunno.”

Huey blinked, went outside, and Louie heard a strangled cry that forced him from the comfort of the living room and his half-eaten tomato, ham, sliced cheese, and lettuce sandwich.

Huey stood at the railing staring down at the water. Louie followed suit and snorted, “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

He dived in, tried to get into position, and sunk. He dived in, tried to get into position, and sunk. It was an uncomfortable, constant loop of Dewey repeating the attempt. He didn’t possess Gilligan’s odd grace. His knees knobbed and feet trembled. His body swayed back and forth in the still waters.

“What are you doing?” Huey shouted, “Get back up here before you drown!”

Dewey splashed up, “I’ma dabble! I think I’m getting the hang of it.”

“No, dude. You like a dying fish on land.”

“You sound like a dying seal. Get back up here.”

He resurfaced, “Not until I dabble!”

Louie and Huey shared an uneasy stare. He would not get out of the water. He absolutely refused, and the chances of his drowning increased dramatically. He splashed, bubbled, floated about without any grace. His arms lost their strength, and he grabbed the swimming ring.

“Wanna come up?”

“No, not really.” He dove again.

“Boys?” Came Uncle Donald’s voice from the house boat, “I swear if Louie’s gotten his head stuck again the -,” he stopped behind them, “what’s going on?”

Huey and Louie froze, spinning around with stiff smiles.

“He’s taking a bath.”

“He is definitely not in the water outside the houseboat!”

Louie paused and turned his head slowly with a glare imprinted in his eyes.

Donald didn’t think twice, “He’s what in the what!?” He pushed them aside and looked down below, “Dewey!”

There wasn’t time to explain what was going on, or why it was happening in the first place. Dewey hadn’t returned to the surface yet, and Donald jumped into the water, diving right beside the swimming ring. They held their breath over the railing, watching and waiting for their uncle and brother to emerged through the waters, but rings of bubbles came to pop instead over the rippling water.

“We should do something,” Huey whispered.

“What are we gonna do!?”

“Call the ambulance.”

He ran back to get the phone when the water started to break. Uncle Donald parted the surrounding water in a great circle, clutching Dewey to his chest. He swam with one arm back to the harbor, pushing Dewey’s body first onto the pavement. Dewey rolled on his side, His little body shook and heaved, and he clutched his side as seawater streamed out of his bill like a river. Uncle Donald gasped, spat water out, and dropped on his knees, crawling to him.

“Dewey, Dewey speak to me!”

“I hear you.” He wheezed, “I hear you loud and clear.”

“Oh, my sweet baby!” Suddenly, he was pulled to his chest. Uncle Donald peppered him with kisses, over his face and head, and with another jerk, he was pulled away from his chest, “What were you thinking!?”

Louie and Huey grimaced from a safe distance.

“Uh...I was…”

“Don’t you know how dangerous that was!? You could’ve drowned!”

Anger born from worry was the worst, but Dewey had no time to think about that.

Dewey grinned sheepishly, “I was trying to dabble.”

“Dabble?” Uncle Donald searched his face for any sign of lies, “You mean dabble, dabble like ducks do?”

“Yeah, I saw Gilligan -,”

“We’re not that kind of duck!” He shook him viciously, “We don’t dabble!”

“Then what kind of ducks are we!?”

“American Pekin!” Uncle Donald jerked him back into his chest, caressing his head as he crooned quietly, “My poor, sweet, dumb child, we’re American Pekin. We don’t dabble.”

“A lot of folks don’t dabble, Dewey.” Louie said from his spot on the houseboat, “Are we in trouble?”

Donald released Dewey, staring at him wearily. His nap was spent and used to its fullest extent, but he appeared as tired as if he had returned from a late night shift, “Go back in side and dry off, Dewey, you too.”

“But am I grounded?”

“I don’t know.” He contemplated aloud, “There’s a lot we haven’t discussed about biology, and I shouldn’t have skimmed that with you boys.”

“So…”

“It was still a ridiculously stupid thing to do.” He fell on his bottom, wiping his forehead, “But it isn’t the worst thing you’ve done, go inside and get ready for dinner. I’ll start it up soon.”

“What about my swimming ring?”

Donald glared.

“Fair enough.” He hurried up the ramp, “Will be dry and clean by time you get inside.” His brothers followed quietly behind him, relieved their brother was safe and even more relieved they weren’t in trouble with him.

Donald watched them disappear into the houseboat. Red, blue, and green, such wonderfully troublesome colors. He scratched the back of his head and rolled forward, “Don’t forget it’s preening night!”

Their collective groans made him grin.

#ducktales #ducktales 2017 #donald duck #huey dewey and louie #dewey duck #louie duck #huey duck #mywriting #duckfiction

[future-rp]

libra’s main dance & vocalist shiah

jackrabbit entertainment; chroeography, modeling 14 vocal / 00 rap / 17 dance

TRIGGER WARNINGS: parental death, bullying, eating disorders, mental illness 

i.

a record plays gently in the background, something slow with guitar strings and light vocals. a young woman and man dance in the living room of a house they just bought. they’re newlyweds who have all the time in the world to decide what they’re going to do. they’ll take on the world, they know – they’ll be unstoppable. and so, will the little girl who kicks lightly at her mother’s stomach – the couple’s laughter flows through the air as the mother unwraps an arm from around the father’s shoulder, sets it on the life budding inside her between them. they glance at one another and smile. the scene is soft and serene, and they know nothing will ever change.

ii.

a little girl is running around the yard of green, green grass chasing a small pup. her mother smiles out the window, her dishes almost completely forgotten as she watches the light of her life. the mother’s husband walks up behind her to wrap an arm around her hips and hums.

“she looks just like you, eunwoo.”

the woman chuckles, shaking her head.

“she’s going to be far prettier than me.” the woman, eunwoo, points out. “how are we going to keep the boys away from her?” she asked with faux-concern. “i think we may have to lock her up to keep them away, taeyang.”

her husband shakes his head, “we raise her right, and she’ll take care of those boys all by herself.”

eunwoo smiles, leans back into her husband’s arms.

they’re content.

iii.

“seo shiah?”

it’s the little girl’s first dance class, and she’s smiling brightly up at the instructor. it’s ballet – because what little girl wasn’t put into some sort of ballet class when she was young? but she didn’t mind because she liked dancing around in the studio with her friends, and it made her mama cry happy tears and her pap smile, and that was all she wanted. shiah decided that she was going to make them happy no matter what she did – because that was what they deserved, and she was determined to deliver. after all, her parents made her smile, why wouldn’t she want to make them smile?

shiah tries her best, she dances around in her little tu-tu whenever she’s required; she giggles and shakes her butt – and her instructor laughs and tell her to get back into her spot. shiah likes to make people smile, she’s decided, and wants to make it her life’s mission to make as many people smile as possible.

iv.

shiah has decided she doesn’t like school.

not because it’s hard, because it’s all actually very easy. no, it’s because of the mean girls who pull on her hair and call her ugly. shiah doesn’t understand, her mother always told her she was a very pretty little girl, how could anyone ever call her ugly? she was just trying to be nice and introduce herself, she was just trying to make friends, so why were they being so mean?

when she goes home that day from school, she asks her mother why she has to attend. eunwoo sighs and smooths her daughter’s hair – says she needs a good education, so she can do something important after school. not to mention, there wasn’t a way anyone could ever hate her – it would just take some time. shiah frowns but agrees to go play with her toys in the other room like her mother tells her to.

they don’t have that conversation again. shiah doesn’t manage to make friends.

v.

shiah continues dancing well into her elementary age – they’re the only friends she’s managed to make and they’re all deciding where they’re going to be attending high school. they’re the only ones who understand shiah’s love of dancing and are the only ones she trusts to tell she’s thinking of applying to schools in seoul.

they think she’s crazy, but they’re willing to join her in sending in applications. shiah doesn’t know how she would’ve made it through school without having them to escape to.

in the meantime, they decide to continue work on one of their routines – it’s in that moment shiah decides this is what she wants to do. she wants to dance, and nothing else. she wants to be like those people online who choreograph and dance for youtube videos at those fancy studios in seoul. her heart pounds as they move through the routine, shiah can’t help the smile that overtakes her lips. she doesn’t ever want to stop, wants to keep moving, wants to keep feeling free.

she goes home that night happy.

vi.

shiah is shoved up against a locker. she frowns at the girl who pushed her, eyes narrow as she tries to move away. but the girl has friends, and her friends don’t let shiah escape. she wants to cry but doesn’t allow herself – but the girls notice shiah’s eyes are watering. she doesn’t remember what happens after that, just a dull ache in her head.

while shiah’s parents wonder why she comes home with bruises from time-to-time, shiah just laughs it off and tells them it’s from dance class – she’s fine, really!

shiah still doesn’t like school.

vii.

shiah’s nervous when she decides to finally tell her parents she wants to apply to arts schools in seoul. they’re a poor family, she knows – but i could get a scholarship! it’s far away, she knows – but i promise i’ll visit – i’ll even get a job so you don’t have to pay for my tickets! she had it all planned out in her mind. it was going to go smoothly, if it was going to kill her.

except she doesn’t actually expect it to go smoothly.

all the questions she prepared herself for, the disappointment she even prepared herself for – averted. her parent’s response is a simple “okay.” shiah’s left dumbfounded, stars at her parents for a long time before her face breaks out into a bright smile. they promise to help deal with her applications, and they’re all done in a fairly short amount of time. eunwoo tells her she’s going to be the best dancer there. taeyang tells her she’s going to be star – he can feel it.

shiah is happy – for once, she’s happy.

viii.

happiness doesn’t last.

one would think shiah would’ve realized this already.

shiah’s fourteen when her mother dies – a car crash. drunk driver.

seo eunwoo was killed on-impact.

shiah doesn’t know what to do with herself.

taeyang wraps his arms around his daughter, turning her away from the mangled body of her mother.

seo taeyang is a widower, and he’s not quite sure what he’s going to do.

ix.

for a long time, life is a blur. shiah eats, sleeps, dances, goes to school – but she doesn’t really experience anything. people know what happened; there’s no hiding from the truth. but shiah decides that she really doesn’t want to participate in life right now, and no one faults her for it.

deadlines for tests are extended for her, she is given extra time before exams – her teachers don’t really know what else to do. shiah appreciates that, even if they don’t know it.

classmates pretend that the years of bullying never happened and try to make her feel better. shiah just brushes them off – they don’t really care. she considers saying something along the lines of how they could possibly say such nice things when they made her want to die only a month ago, but decides it isn’t the time. she still hates them.

she doesn’t find as much solace in dance as she wants to, but she keeps dancing.

taeyang is broken, and shiah knows it. she tells him it’s okay, she misses mama too – and he breaks down and cries. for hours they weep their hearts out until no tears will fall anymore – and taeyang makes shiah dinner. they talk lightly and end up falling asleep on the couch together afterward. it’s a nice night, and for a while shiah’s able to not think about it.

x.

shiah starts to get her letters back from the high schools she’s applied to – she almost forgot about them. she doesn’t care to open them at first, especially because she doesn’t want to leave geochang anymore – doesn’t want to leave her father.

but taeyang is thrilled when the letters come – he smiles and tells her it’s what she’s been waiting for, here’s the chance! shiah’s clearly not as excited but opens them just to make her father happy.

she can’t help the yelp when she’s actually gotten accepted. taeyang’s ecstatic.

shiah tries to push it off, says she shouldn’t go, she couldn’t leave her father alone in geochang – they’d be too far apart, and shiah couldn’t do that. taeyang says it’s nonsense – and anyway, he was thinking of moving. what would be the harm in moving to seoul together? shiah wonders why at first, but she doesn’t have to ask to realize living in their house pains him. too many memories. she knows it’s the first house they bought together – eunwoo and taeyang’s ‘forever-home.’

but it wasn’t home anymore. no, the house was filled to the brim with painful ghosts assaulting them every step of the way. so shiah doesn’t comment, she just smiles and says it’s a great idea.

they move to seoul before shiah starts in high school.

xi.

hanlim isn’t like her other school.

they wear uniforms, and no one bats an eye when shiah says she’s from geochang.

the other girls say they wished they looked as pretty as shiah did – she had the looks of an idol.

the boys approached shiah, a couple even asked her out on dates.

hanlim isn’t like her other school.

for once in her life, shiah enjoys school.

xii.

shiah is fifteen and has never had her first kiss – her new friends make it their mission to change that. where shiah doesn’t think it’s that big of a deal, her new friends are surprised that she’s never done anything – not even held someone else’s hand. they’re determined to get her a boyfriend as soon as possible, even if shiah says she’s not really interested in a relationship. they don’t care, smile and say she doesn’t need to be shy. shiah just sighs and goes alone with it – because what the hell, what harm could it do?

her first kiss isn’t amazing – fireworks don’t go off in her head as she presses her lips to some boy’s she barely knew during a game of spin-the-bottle. her friends ooh and ahh at her, giggle sheepishly – but shiah just smiles and shakes her head. they move on in the game quickly.

it isn’t until a girl spins the bottle and it lands on another girl that shiah realizes that maybe she wishes she were kissing that girl – or maybe it’s the way her other friends react. while shiah just shrugs it off, the others in the group start hollering – both girls faces’ go bright read. it’s easy to read the situation.

they end up not making the two girls kiss – there was no need. this was basically just to get shiah to have her first kiss, and that certainly wasn’t going to be with another girl.

right?

xiii.

shiah is approached by a hip-hop dance crew in seoul called ‘gloss,’ and she decides to join. they like the way she dances, and shiah enjoys dancing. despite her already busy schedule, shiah competes for about two years with them, and even ends up choreographing a few small bits in their routines.

gloss is well known in seoul, but certainly not for taking in new members. her friends are jealous, ask how she could’ve possibly done that. shiah doesn’t really understand, she just keeps moving on with her life. she has fun, while it lasts.

xiv.

a group of hanlim students decided to go to some company auditions – shiah isn’t really that into the kpop scene but decides to tag along. it’s while she’s there that she’s approached by a staff member who asks if she was auditioning. shiah smiles and shakes her head – just there for support, her friend was though! the staff member gives her a once-over before stating that an audition wouldn’t hurt. after a quick call to her father, shiah gets permission and manages to audition.

a while later, shiah finds out she’s the only one from the seoul auditions who made it. she’s officially a jackrabbit entertainment trainee.

xv.

control.

shiah needs control.

becoming a trainee meant a special schedule both at hanlim and jackrabbit. she feels like it’s a whirlwind of activity, and she’s quickly overwhelmed. the time she gets to spend at home is usually spent quickly eating a meal with her father before going off to do her homework. no matter what she does, there seems to be more work piling up by the minute.

shiah feels stuck.

she needs control.

xvi.

control is taken when shiah stops eating.

she may not be able to control what is going on in her life, but she can control what she puts into her body.

it starts out as harmless – as harmless as counting calories can be. she decides she’ll only eat this much – she was supposed to be counting calories anyway. she was supposed to be thin after all. she was supposed to be fit – supposed to be the ideal body type. she just wants control, and now she’s being put into a potential group’s lineup, and shiah feels lost.

it’s harmless until it’s not, she realizes.

but she doesn’t realize until it’s too late and she blacks out in the middle of practice. she’s sent home to rest, she just needs a day and then she’d be fine.

but her father knows that’s not the truth.

xvii.

she’s put on appetite enhancer to make her eat. she’s given a cocktail of other drugs to try and help her feel normal. for a while, shiah is in a haze – she vaguely remembers practices, classes, and general life-things that happen, but she doesn’t really remember them. they’re apparitions of memories, but shiah doesn’t tell anyone.

no one needs to know.

xviii.

libra debuts with the song “chase me” and shiah is conflicted. and almost 100% sure the company hates her. why would she only have one line in the entire song? did they not trust her? was she bad? then why’d they debut her? shiah really tries to not let it get to her, but it’s hard – especially because she was so excited for their debut. when it’s revealed that she doesn’t have much of a part in it, she doesn’t exactly know how to feel about it.

shiah is determined to do better. she’s determined to keep going, even if she is disappointed, because she hasn’t gotten this far to give up. even though she’s certainly wanted to give up – they finally debuted. shouldn’t she be happy?

she’s not really happy, but she’s good at pretending to be happy. and it must work, especially when she’s asked to begin choreographing for the group. the trainers mention something about her dance classes and the group she was a part of before joining jackrabbit – and shiah decides that maybe things are going to be okay. maybe she did something right.

the rumors about members being involved with the ceo brings down the mood after debut, and shiah’s anxiety begins to spike. she doesn’t really know if they’re founded, but no evidence is ever surfaced so shiah just shoves it to the back of her mind. she has her own problems.

that doesn’t mean she’s not attentive. that doesn’t mean she’s not the member who the others confide in. but it does mean that shiah keeps to herself, keeps herself guarded. because keeping herself guarded seems to be doing better things for her than opening up.

maybe, for once, she had the control she needed. just enough.

xix.

two years.

four comebacks.

shiah is tired, but thrilled.

she spends a lot of time in the dance studio, not only perfecting the dance routines required by their performances and practicing her vocals, which had come so, so far since the beginning. she became one of the choreographers for the group, even if her routines were tweaked (and occasionally unrecognizable from her original) by the company – at least she was given some input. at least she had somewhat of a say – because that was more than some groups could complain.

sometimes things felt out of control, and sometimes shiah had to rely a little bit more on her medication than usual – but other than that, she was fine. right? that was what she kept telling herself, after all.

as time progressed, her good looks were beginning to be marketed off – modelling wasn’t something she would’ve thought about before she was thrown into doing a few commercials. she had been told she was a natural in front of the camera, her looks striking and pleasing to the eye. shiah decided why not and let the company do what they wanted with her, in that aspect.

even if, sometimes, the comments are too much to handle. they’re not all positive, after all.

but shiah is fine – or so she keeps telling herself. she’s fine, and nothing can keep her from being happy with her girls. not even her father’s new family that he got at some point while she was promoting ‘fly high.’ shiah decides she doesn’t care – because they weren’t her family, the only one she cared about was her father.

her job was making people happy again, after all – and her father was happy, wasn’t he?

even if the smile on her face was fake, she was smiling, wasn’t she?

#ft. accepted #ft. libra bio

[jinjikook]

Even The Sun is Jealous (M)

🎃 word count: 2.5k

🎃 genre: smut ; idol-verse

🎃 pairing: reader/j-hope

🎃 warning(s)/kink(s): body worship, riding, lots of kissing + slight dom/sub undertones

🎃 summary: when your boyfriend is a little down and hard on himself due to some toxic fans, you find a way to show him just how much you really love him, as well as plenty others.

🎃 requested by: anon - “Can I request for a JHope/reader Body appreciation one shot?”

🎃 music: neighbors know my name - trey songz + who you are - jessie j

🎃 masterlist + kinktober 2017

gif credit

“I really wonder what it’d be like to be someone’s first choice…”

You walked out of the bedroom into the conjoined bathroom to find your boyfriend in front of the full body mirror tacked onto the wall, eyeing himself front and back, forwards and backwards.

“What’s the matter honey?” Hoseok doesn’t make eye contact with you, instead lifting his shirt a little to pinch at the barely there, hardly non-existent pudge that settles around his hip bone. He hums noncommittedly, as if he had an answer but didn’t know how to verbalize it.

You snuck up to his side and pressed a dry peck to his cheek, looking into the mirror to see if it gave you any clarity as to what he was on about.

“Just… I get it, Jeonggukie is handsome and Tae Tae is cute but—am I really so ugly to ARMY that they don’t want me, even on VLIVE?”

You looked at your boyfriend with the most scandalized expression you could possibly muster, disgusted that he could think so lowly of himself especially based on the very few horrible remarks from people that clearly couldn’t be real fans if they didn’t appreciate a group as a whole.

“Jung Hoseok, I can’t believe what I’m being forced to hear right now.” Your hands were at your hips but your boyfriend was still glued to his reflection, analyzing and criticizing every minute, human detail of his body. “What makes you think such blasphemy?”

Hoseok stayed silent, a sigh escaping past his nose instead of his mouth as it stayed shut in a firm line.

“I know I’m not as good looking and I certainly don’t have the brawn or brains as some of the others, but I’m not that unappealing? Right?”

“You’re not. Like, at all. You’re one of the most handsome men I’ve ever laid eyes on and—”

“You have to say that, you’re my girlfriend.”

“Don’t interrupt, I’m not finished.”

Hoseok tightened his mouth again, finally making eye contact with you through slightly shiny, dewy eyes.

“And you’re one of the most amazing people I’ve ever had the pleasure to meet. You’re smart and sweet and kind and wonderful and you care so, so, so much about others it’s amazing. The talent you have, in dance and rap—hell, even singing—is unprecedented.”

“But it’s always Jeonggukie and Jiminie they bring up when it comes to dance—”

“And that’s not fair to you, I know that. You don’t think I don’t wanna go on stage and shout at them that you’re an amazing dancer and performer and deserve so much more time to show that off? Believe me, if it wouldn’t get me kicked out and banned from several venues, I would’ve done it already.”

His lip quirked at the small joke, breath huffing out even though he tried to keep his face straight and attitude unaffected from the obvious tryst to lighten the mood.

“I want you to see what I see, Hobi. I see a man who’s so beautiful, inside and out. I see a man with a body that makes girls cry and men question themselves, a face that is so sharp and bright it makes the sun mad with jealousy. I see a person who, despite all the shortcomings that were so unfairly pushed their way, still smiles like the moon, always there for someone whenever they get lost and need guidance.”

Hoseok’s eyes grew wetter as you showed no end in your tangent, hands slightly trembling at his sides.

“There’s a man standing in front of me right now who isn’t afraid to show his emotions; when he’s afraid he screams, when he’s overwhelmed he cries and when he’s excited he jumps. He jumps as high as the sky and even further because he’s shown there’s no limits that he cannot exceed past. A man and a person I’ve fallen so head over heels in love with that I cannot fathom even for a second to hear and see you being so damn hard on yourself when there’s clearly nothing wrong. It kills me to see you like this baby, I just want you happy and knowing that you are important, just as much as the rest of them.”

And like that, the dam just breaks.

Hoseok cries and cries, into your shoulder and dampening the sweater, turning the stone to a deep, dark charcoal gray. His sobs wrack his body and shakes yours with it, as you soothe him and rub calming circles on his back.

You knew this was something he needed; even the happiest person just needs a good cry every once and a while. It’s therapeutic, really.

When his cries die down to sniffles and occasional whimpers, you pulled him away from the crook of your neck where he left tear-stained tracks and brought him in for a well-deserved kiss. His lips were wet from the tears and the kiss tasted salty but you couldn’t care less, needing to reassure Hoseok in your words—in your love for him.

Silently, you tug him back into the bedroom, bodies nearly plastered together and laid him down on the plush mattress you two shared on the rare occasion that he didn’t have to return to the dorm for a night. Hoseok was still sniveling, trying to wipe his cheeks dry and making his face look redder and splotchier with the passing of his hands.

“If you don’t want to believe me, I guess I’ll have to show you,” You hovered over your boyfriend and his eyes glistened as they watched you move on your own accord.

First you pressed a kiss on his forehead, down to one on each eyelid, past his slightly moist cheeks to taste even more salt before joining his own pout, deepening the kiss with a part of your lips and the intrusion of tongue. You stayed there for a minute, just enjoying the raw taste of Hoseok on your taste buds before slipping lower to continue your ministrations.

His neck would’ve been mottled in love bites and marks, had it not been for his idol status keeping you from such a pleasure. So instead you settled for wet kisses, a light suck down the column of his beautifully defined throat to distract him as your hands went for the hem of his black tee, to tug it up and over his head.

With his torso exposed, you were opened up to a much larger canvas to work with.

“Hoseok, listen to me.” You began, his eyes shut tight and fist tugging on the cotton blend sheet spread over the mattress. “I love your collarbones,” You kiss each one down the length of it before coming back up. “When you wear something that lets them peek out, it drives me nuts.”

His breath caught in his throat, hitched after a high gasp when your met the small divot in between his clavicles. You didn’t stop there, trailing further down to suckle along his pecs, slightly raised and delicately toned from years of intense dance and work out regimes. Each nipple pebbled when you’d kissed and licked it, Hoseok’s fingers tightening even harder in the bedsheets.

“I wish you’d see just how sexy your body is, this chest has been haunting my dreams since we saw the flash of golden skin during American Hustle Life.” Hoseok giggled at the memory, from before you two had gotten together but you clearly had been a fan then too. “Seriously, your hips there were my biggest wet dreams. But we’ll get to those later,” You winked even though Hoseok couldn’t see and moved to the side, rather than continuing the path straight down.

You gave a few more nips rather than kisses on the meatier flesh of Hoseok’s biceps, loving how the plush gave way to your teeth and you ran underneath to suck a bruise into his triceps, where you knew he could easily keep it hidden but still feel it ache every time he pressed his arm too close to his body.

He hissed as you sucked the mark on him, moving down to contrast the feeling with delicate pecks until you reached his hand, where you brought it up and kissed each and every knuckle.

“These hands that work so hard on music and touch people’s lives every day; where would I be without them?” You made a point to kiss his palm before going up and taking his index finger into your mouth, sucking long and hard and making Hoseok’s eyes jerk open just to catch sight of your lips plushly wrapped around his digit. You hummed and giggled with it inside your mouth, tongue tracing teasingly around the whorls and arches of his fingerprint until it slid out with an audible pop. He groaned and let his head fall back onto the bed with a bounce as he accepted his fate, when you switched sides to give the exact same treatment there as well, all the way down to his fingertips.

By the time you’d moved on and reached his navel, Hoseok was positively squirming.

“Baby, please just—fuck,”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t quite catch that?” Your grin stretched wide at his exclamation, probably brought on from how you sucked along the dips and divots of his toned and flat tummy. His abdominals were cleanly cut, always defined whenever his shirts clung to his figure—especially whenever he got wet.

Hoseok reached for the nearest pillow and screamed into it, frustration bubbling past his boiling point. No longer was he crying from being overwhelmed with emotion, instead it was with sheer need and want for something more than this slow drag of a game you were playing.

“C’mon love, I just want to prove how much I and the rest of us care about you. How handsome you really are.”

“Okay, okay! I believe you, just—no more, please,” You smirked at his reaction, wishing you could keep playing a little longer, to have had at least enough time to worship his thighs well enough.

“Fine, since I love you so much, I’ll grant you mercy.”

You stepped away from Hoseok’s slightly damp body, sore from everywhere your lips touched and he shivered from the cold as your body heat left him. With a small smile, you tore yourself away from the sight to get a condom from the nightstand, the sound of the drawer closing making Hoseok’s ears perk up in interest and familiarity.

“Honey, sit up by the headboard for me please.” Hoseok didn’t even think twice, immediately shuffling up to rest his back against the cool mahogany as his eyes hungrily watched you strip down for him hurriedly, yet still tantalizingly slow. His throat felt dry at the sight of you and he licked his parched lips when you approached, foil square in hand. “I think my beautiful boy deserves to be treated right, what do you think?”

Hoseok simply nodded, a wild hunger dominating his senses as he just wanted one thing and one thing only in that moment: to stop fucking around and get inside you already.

You drank in your boyfriend’s reactions, taking enough time to peel his underwear off his body and toss it away before giving him a few solid pumps, the head already glistening. He groaned once more, head knocking against the wooden board behind him before you finally succumbed to your own needs and rolled the condom on his length.

It only took a minute or two of your own fingers, stretching yourself open much to Hoseok’s chagrin, before you finally straddled the man, orange-red locks in your clutches as you bottomed out with him inside you.

Hoseok held his breath, feeling your walls tighten around him to incredible proportions and making his fingers leave light bruises on your hips from his grip. His control was waning, but you seemed to have the reigns in your hands as you began to whisper in his ear, along with a few brushes of your tongue along the shell of it.

“I love you, and I love the way you fuck me like no other.” And with that, you began to roll your hips in tight circles and figure eights, Hoseok’s toes curling at your heat engulfing his member so well.

His legs bent at the knee, hips languidly pumping up against each grind down as you two worked your own unique rhythm, starting off slow and growing to a hurried pace. Hoseok made his way across your chest with his lips, your grip in his hair keeping his pressed tight to you as he dropped his hands to your ass and brought you flush down against him to grind harder. His cock pressed up against somewhere sensitive inside you, your lip nearly bitten clean through from the grip your teeth had on it.

“Since you love me so much, let me hear it baby,” Hoseok nearly growled against you, hips audibly snapping and slapping against your ass, the sounds of sex palpable. The mattress creaked and groaned while the headboard knocked loudly against the wall, a soundtrack that the neighbors would no doubt complain about later.

Not that you had half a mind to care at the moment.

When he didn’t hear your moans like he wanted, Hoseok spanked the meat of your ass, making you yelp in surprise. The motion cause your lip to slip out from your grip and that’s when Hoseok held nothing back and brought you in tight in himself to fuck harder. His body jumped up from the mattress and you just held on, control completely switching over to Hoseok’s hands as he destroyed your core and marked up your breasts.

You panted hard, trying to find purchase in Hoseok’s shoulders when you felt the twine in your belly tighten, trying to breathe out a warning to your lover in hopes of him easing up and letting your orgasm wash over you gently but there was no such mercy. He simply brought it to a slow and hard grind, pressing up against that sweet spot and making you come hard. It was wet and dirty and Hoseok couldn’t hold back as he bucked a few last sloppy, hard thrusts before finally emptying out into the condom, holding you down onto him by the shoulders.

His moan was long and drawn out, another expression of his ability to show emotion so well. You whined into the crook of his neck as you throbbed hard, sore in the best of ways. He eased you off of him gently, rolling the two of you to lay on your sides, facing each other.

It was a comfortable silence, the two of panting hard and catching your breath. Hoseok’s skin glowed with a post-sex gleam, tan looking warmer than usual and his smile even more radiant.

“See,” You panted, “I love every little bit of you and ARMY does too, don’t worry.”

Hoseok laughed and you joined, before finally getting up and coaxing him in the shower with you.

Under the spray, you continued to praise and kiss your boyfriend’s worries away, silently fearing for a day like this to return and rear its ugly head again. You knew it was inevitable, with how cruel some people could be, but you hoped that each time Hoseok stayed stronger, grew a thicker skin.

At the very least, you hoped you could always be by his side to help him through it, show him that love is definitely something in his life.

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