#The boys are waiting instructions as usual

[deonsx]

hi, hi!! first off, i love your work so much!!

i saw that your requests were open, so i thought i'd shoot my shot.

i'd like to request an interviewer!reader x the blue lock boys. a few specific characters i'd like are: sae, rin, nagi, and kaiser.

but feel free to add or remove characters as you'd like, though! thank you, and take care!

Hiii love!! you said all my favorites so lets do it

Sae Itoshi

Sae Itoshi didn’t care for interviews. They were a chore. Walk in, answer a few dull questions, leave. That was the routine. But today, something was different

When he stepped into the room, his gaze landed on you. You weren’t like the others. No nervous smile, no overly eager expression. You were calm, composed, and confident. Sae found himself watching you longer than he usually would

The questions began, and for the first time in a long while, Sae gave more than his standard short answers. He wasn’t sure why. Maybe it was the way you spoke steady and clear. Or maybe it was how you watched him, your expression thoughtful yet impossible to read

When the interview ended, Sae walked out as usual. But this time, your face and voice lingered in his mind. He brushed it off. It was just another interview. Or so he told himself

Sae wasn’t used to this. Faces and voices from interviews blurred together in his memory, but yours stood out. He found himself looking for you at matches, wondering if you’d be the one holding the microphone. He didn’t understand why it mattered, but he didn’t try to stop it either. The next time he saw you, Sae promised himself one thing

“Next time, I won’t let you leave without knowing more about you”

Rin Itoshi

He sat in the chair with his usual blank expression, arms crossed, eyes sharp as he waited for the questions to begin. When you walked in, your calm demeanor was the first thing he noticed. No exaggerated smiles, no forced charm. Just steady professionalism

There was something about your composure that irritated him but not in the way most people did. It was the kind of irritation that demanded his attention, the kind he couldn’t quite shake off

Weeks later, Rin was at a press conference following a heated match. His answers to reporters were as blunt as ever. But then his eyes found you among the crowd, seated quietly, waiting for your turn

For a split second, his focus faltered. It wasn’t like him to be distracted, yet here he was, scanning the room to catch another glimpse of you. When you finally stood to ask your question, Rin’s posture shifted almost imperceptibly.

You asked “Rin-san, your performance today was extraordinary. Do you think your ability to stay calm under pressure gives you an edge over other players?”

“Staying calm isn’t an edge. It’s a necessity. If you can’t handle pressure, you don’t belong on the field.”

Nagi Seishiro

They were a hassle, like most things that required effort. He slouched in his chair, head tilted, clearly uninterested as the team’s PR staff ran through instructions. When you entered the room, clipboard in hand, his gaze flicked to you briefly before returning to the wall

The interview began, and Nagi answered lazily, barely putting thought into his words. But as you continued, something shifted. Your voice wasn’t pushy or overenthusiastic like the others. It was calm, steady, almost soothing. You didn’t prod him to elaborate or react when his answers were short.

Nagi didn’t like putting effort into things or people. Most of the time, he preferred to avoid unnecessary interactions altogether. But with you, it was different. He wasn’t sure why.

Maybe it was how unfazed you were by his detached demeanor. Or the way you never tried to force a reaction out of him. Whatever it was, he found himself searching for you at matches and events, hoping to see you again.

You weren’t loud or demanding like the rest of the world around him. You were quiet, steady just there. And for someone like Nagi, who found most things exhausting, that was more than enough to capture his attention

“If I keep seeing you, maybe it won’t be so bad putting in a little effort”

Kaiser Michael

Michael Kaiser loved interviews or rather, he loved talking about himself. For him, it was just another stage where he could shine. When he entered the room, he was fully prepared to charm his way through. But this time, something unexpected caught his attention

You stood there, calm and composed, with no exaggerated expressions or overeager smiles like the others. Your presence was sharp but unassuming, and Kaiser noticed it immediately

As the questions started, Kaiser responded with his usual flair, confident and theatrical. But your reactions or lack thereof unsettled him. You didn’t laugh at his witty remarks or fawn over his charisma. Instead, you remained focused, observing him as if you were studying his every word

It wasn’t something Kaiser was used to, and it threw him off balance in the slightest, most infuriating way. When the interview ended, he left the room with a lingering thought: Who were you, and why couldn’t he stop thinking about how you looked at him?

Without realizing it, Kaiser found himself looking for you at every event, every match. You became a puzzle he couldn’t solve, and for someone who was used to winning at everything, that was both maddening and thrilling

“If you keep ignoring me, I’ll just have to make sure I’m impossible for you to overlook.”

Enjoy!

[l3tm31nn0w]

Lessons in the Dark

Chapter 3: The Maiden and the Holy Man

Professor Albin Eberhart Von Franz x fem!reader

You’re a young woman interested in the fantastical world of angels and demons and you seek out Professor Von Franz to mentor you in more ways than one.

(Slow burn, eventual smut, age gap, mentor/protege relationship, reader is in her 20s)

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

It was a night like any other, you had retired to your bed long before Albin. He was leafing through a manuscript when he heard you groan. He found you doubled over into a fetal position, sweating profusely.

“Oh my dear, it’s happening isn’t it?”

You nodded, tears streaming down your face as the pain radiated from your abdomen. “Call Dr. Sievers” you managed to choke out. “He can explain how to help.”

Albin sat with you while you waited for Sievers. He had you grip his hand tightly through your pain, his other hand stroking your damp hair. While the pain was as blistering as ever, having him here to comfort you made a world of difference. Your family never bothered.

Dr. Sievers arrived and instructed the professor to apply cool rags to your head, but warm rags to your abdomen. He gave you a medicine to send you to sleep and left a surplus with Albin for the coming nights.

When you had finally fallen asleep, Albin and Dr. Sievers sat in the living room to discuss your ailment. “Sievers I know a bit more about what’s going on. I will not betray her confidence on the matter, but I need you to know that I am seeking a cure and if I find one I will be taking over where you started. No hard feelings my boy, but I cannot let her live like this.”

Sievers nodded, not fully believing Albin. He did not take your ailment for an occult mystery, simply a medical anomaly that left you suffering. There really was no cure, you’d been born that way.

“Whatever you see fit professor, after all she is your wife. These decisions are up to you now. She seemed better emotionally than she had been with her family at least, so good work.”

Albin walked Sievers out and huffed once the door closed. He disliked the comment about decisions of your wellness being left up to him. Just because you held the title of wife didn’t mean you couldn’t make your own decisions!

It was late and Albin was exhausted. He changed into night clothes and crawled into bed next to you, relieved that you were sleeping peacefully. He blew out the bedside candle and settled under the blankets. As sleep began to find him, he was jolted awake. You rolled over and laid against him, your arm over his chest and your head laying in the crook of his neck. This surprised him greatly and in any other circumstance he would’ve lightly moved you, but he couldn’t risk waking you up and starting another pain fit so in your embrace he remained.

The next morning you awoke to find the bed empty. The pain in your abdomen was still sharp, though the day time found some reprieve from your ailment.

As you attempted to get up, Albin rushed through the door with a tray in hand.

“Der Liebling don’t even think of getting out of that bed!” He shouted out. You giggled at his insistence and settled back into bed. He laid out a tray with herbal tea and bread with jam. “You need your rest my dear.”

You began to sip on the tea while you protested a bit. “Albin, how can I help you if I’m stuck in bed! I’ll be ok I promise.”

He smiled and pulled a book out, an alchemy manuscript you’d both been working through. “It’ll be a research day, I won’t deprive you of using your noggin while you’re not feeling well.”

You squeezed his hand, truly touched by his desire to help you learn AND help you feel better.

The two of you settled into a routine over the coming months. When you felt ok it was business as usual and you'd work on experiments and hunt around town for old tomes. Once the cursed time of the month arrived, Albin put you on bed rest and you researched and discussed from the comfort of your shared bedroom.

You grew very fond of him, delighted at his willingness to bring you into his life. He treated you as an equal in every sense of the word, leaving you to feel like the luckiest wife in Germany. Your platonic feelings had begun to morph into romantic ones, though you feared this would upset the idyllic life the two of you led so you kept it to yourself. You’d always found older men attractive, so finding your aged professor handsome wasn’t much of a stretch. With Albin it was beyond looks, he exuded a confidence that made him even more attractive.

He didn’t speak much to you of finding a potential treatment and you feared he would feel pressured if you asked so the subject wasn’t discussed. That changed about 7 months into your marriage when Albin found the book.

This book wasn’t any book, it was an old thing, nearly falling apart. It was written in German, but he had surmised the contents had been passed down from something far more ancient. It recounted stories of angels and man, but none that had ever made it into even apocryphal biblical texts. He knew this was the closest he’d come to finding an answer, but didn’t dare bring it to you until he had something more concrete.

More often than not you awoke to find him asleep at his desk, never coming to bed or attempting a proper rest. He would give half hearted answers about his studies and it worried you.

Finally, he found it. An answer. Hiding 300 pages into the decaying book Albin found an anecdote about a holy man who had rid a young woman of an angelic possession. He could finally tell you there was a chance.

He approached you one morning as you were sitting in the living room drinking tea and taking notes on an alchemy experiment from the previous evening.

“Der Liebling.” He greeted you and you looked up, seeing your husband nervously holding an old book.

“Good morning Albin, what’s that you have?” You asked, curious about the old book. It wasn’t one you’d seen him with before as he’d taken great care to obscure it from you so as to not get your hopes up.

He sat down next to you and placed the book on your lap. “It’s an answer my dear.”

Suddenly his late night research and withdrawn nature made sense, he had been trying to find a cure. You were genuinely speechless, moved by his great efforts to help you and nervous at what this answer could entail. You’d long feared a painful exorcism of some sort, considering that was how demons were removed it wasn’t a stretch to assume that the influence of an angel would be removed all that differently.

Albin opened the book to a dog eared page and began explaining.

“This is a book of first hand accounts of humans interacting with angels. They seem to be from all around the world dating from before Christ to the early Middle Ages. The entire thing is quite fascinating and once we get you feeling better it’s all yours to study. I found a story from a man in Greece. He was a holy man in love with a young woman, but his duty to his religion kept them apart, though they had expressed their love for one another through shared letters and prayers. Soon after his beloved began exhibiting symptoms shockingly similar to yours and she described a being attacking her similar to how you described the seraphim.”

Your eyes were wide as he told the story, suddenly feeling less lonely as you were able to connect to this ancient woman. He continued on.

“She was in so much pain she thought she was dying. Fearful that the end was near she came to her holy man and begged him to love her, every part of her, just once before she passed. He couldn’t deny her dying wish and he betrayed his faith to make love with her. Before they consummated their love he did a series of rituals and rites in an attempt to appease his God. The combination of those rites and the realization of their love in flesh saved her. He describes the light extinguishing from her and the pain never returning.”

You were so dumbfounded by the simplicity of it all you actually laughed.

“Why are you laughing!?” He asked, almost offended.

“Forgive me Albin, I’m not laughing at you or the explanation, I’m laughing at how simple it is. I simply need to have sex. That’s it.”

He furrowed his brow in frustration. “It’s not that simple Der Liebling.”

You raised your eyebrows in response. “Are the rites that difficult? You’re a master of the occult Albin, I assume we could make them work.” You had no doubt in his ability and were taken aback that he wasn’t confident.

“Of course I can manage those! The part you’re missing is the love. You can’t just go find some random man and have him fornicate with you. You have to love each other.”

Your mild chuckle from earlier gave way to a full on laughing fit at that. “Albin are you serious? The answer is obvious. It’s you! My husband!”

He gasped at this suggestion, legitimately shocked that you said it with such ease. Sure, he had developed feelings for you over the course of the months spent together, but he knew you must only view him as a teacher so he buried those feelings. How could a young beautiful thing like you be attracted to him or love him truly as a wife loves a husband.

You noticed his apprehension and brought your hand to his cheek. “My darling husband, you must be able to tell that I care for you, deeply. You care for me, you’re kind and brilliant. What’s not to love?”

He placed his hand over yours and closed his eyes, savoring the feeling of your palm against his cheek. “I do love you, my wife, but I cannot imagine you feel about me the way I feel about you when I gaze upon your beauty.”

Knowing that words could not explain your feelings, you closed the distance between the two of you and pulled your professor into a kiss. He was shocked at first and did not kiss you back. You broke the kiss and looked into his eyes, which welled with tears. You knew he had not felt a loving touch in ages, if not ever. You leaned in again and this time he kissed you back, his fingers lacing into your hair, breaking loose the intricate braids atop your head.

After a moment you parted ways again. “Do you believe me now Albin? Will you be my Holy Man?”

He cupped your face into his hands and smiled, his signature wide eccentric grin. “It would be my greatest honor.”

[backsurasy]

She´s smarting

[terrestrialnoob]

Gut Feeling

DPXDC

Commissioner Jim Gordon meets an odd kid in the precinct.

--

“Come on, you really don’t have a way to directly contact Batman?”

Jim smiled. Kids came to the station and asked that all the time. Usually, it was just curiosity and showing them the signal was enough to get them to sign up for the Junior Police program. This one looked a little older than most, teenagers were often “too old” to believe in Batman, but again, give them a little faith now and they’ll never loose it.

“Lookin’ for the Bat, kid?” Jim asked, knowing he was about to make this kid’s –

Jim froze. The kid turned to face him and it was Bruce Wayne. Not playboy billionaire Bruce Wayne, but freshly a teenager Bruce Wayne. The Bruce Wayne who Jim had checked in on time and again from age eight until he ran off on a globetrotting trip to find himself. The little Bruce Wayne with too pale skin and dark bags under his eyes, and not enough love to make up for all the grief weighing him down. And he didn’t look like Damian either, where Bruce was obviously his father but there were distinct traits from his mother. This was a carbon copy of a boy Jim remembered vividly.

“I am.” He even sounded like teenage Bruce. All business, like he was on a mission.

“I might be able to help you, but it’ll take a while.” Jim said and the officer the kid had been talking too gave him an odd look. He waved her off and told the kid to follow him to the commissioner’s office. Normally, he’d be more dramatic, put on more of a show for the kid, but his gut told him this was different, this was important. He offered the kid a styrofoam cup of water then closed the door behind him. “So, what do you need to talk to Batman for?”

“It’s personal. I need to talk to him in person.”

Jim took a sip of coffee from his cup. “He doesn’t appreciate me calling for no reason in the middle of the day.”

“So you do have a direct line?” The kid nearly jumped out of his seat. “If he’s upset, it’ll be my fault, just call him, please.”

“Who should I say wants to talk to him?”

The kid hesitated. “He doesn’t know me, but I have to talk to him.”

Jim frowned. “What’s your name, kid?”

He swallowed and looked like he wasn’t going to answer for a moment. “Danny.”

“Danny…?” Jim wanted a last name but Danny kept quiet. Jim sighed, “He’s likely not going to show up until sundown.”

“I can wait, as long as you guarantee he’ll show.”

“And you’re not going to tell me why you need Batman?” Jim just got a glare in response. “What about one of the other heroes?”

“Only Batman, no one else can help.”

“You sure about that? Not even Superman?”

“Not unless Superman can get me in the same room as Batman.”

“Why’s it so important that you meet him in person?”

“It’s personal.”

Jim liked this less and less by the minute. “Do your parents know you’re here?”

Danny looked away but right when it looked like he wouldn’t say anything he mumbled. “They wouldn’t care anyway.”

After another moment to give the kid time to reconsider, Jim pulled out the Bat-phone. It was a normal Wayne-Tech cell phone, but Jim had been given very specific instructions on how and when to use it. The phone listed all the Gotham Vigilantes without visible numbers so they couldn’t be copied and handed out. He pressed the one for Batman.

“Stand outside, would you?” The kid gave him a look, but followed the request. Jim could see his shadow in the door’s window, not so subtle eavesdropping.

It rang a few times, and Jim sat there awkwardly with a teenager listening to his every move. Finally, a familiar voice picked up the other end of the line. “Commissioner Gordon.”

“Sorry to call you out of the blue Batman, but I’ve got a kid here who needs your help.”

“Who?”

“Says his name is Danny, that you’ve never met him but you’re the only one who can help him.”

“Why?”

“Refuses to tell me.”

“What’s your best guess, Commissioner?”

Jim looked at Danny’s shadow, it looked like he was straining his ears to try and hear what he was saying. Danny had given him almost nothing to work with. Just his name, that he’s never met Batman but needs to talk with him in person. But Jim was here because he listened to his gut. A feeling like when you see a random rock on your neighbor’s doorstep but you’d never go in without an invitation. A feeling like you know what’s in the present and are preparing your surprised face. A feeling like when you cheated on your wife and you know she knows.

“He looks like Bruce Wayne.”

A beat of silence. “What?”

“Danny looks exactly like Bruce when he was a teenager. Exactly the same.” Jim hoped Batman would get it, feel in his gut what Jim felt.

“And he wont say why he’s there?”

“No, and he demands to see you in person.”

“I’ll be there in an hour.”

“10-4.” The line cut off before Jim had finished saying it. He called Danny in again. “He’s on his way.”

Danny glared at him. “If he’s not, if you called some social worker or something, you’ll regret it.”

“I’m sure.” Jim sighed and downed the rest of his now cold coffee.

The sun hadn’t set, but only just barely. Jim ended up taking Danny up to the roof in the end after all, if only to save his window from being broken into. The kid had a red hoodie on, but he was still shivering in the autumn chill and it was just going to get colder by the minute as the sun made its way behind the horizon.

Jim checked his watch and, at exactly an hour from when he called, he acted surprised when Batman and Robin appeared out of nowhere. “Bats.”

“Commissioner.” Batman greeted but his eyes went straight for Danny. “Danny, I assume.”

“Yeah, I…” Danny hesitated, looking at Jim and Robin.

All it took was four words from Batman. “What do you need?”

The kid held out his hand with a flash drive in it. “I’m your clone. My par- The people who made me wanted to make a stronger version of you, but they got ahead of themselves. My DNA is degrading and I’ll die if I don’t get your DNA to stabilize me.”

Holy cow.

“You don’t expect us to believe that, do you?” Robin sneered at him.

“The flash drive has all the info on it. All the data about the cloning process and the, uh, relevant experiments after that.” Batman gave the kid a look. “I didn’t want to waste time on unnecessary data.”

“If what you’re saying is true, why are you here, alone? Are they working on a different solution?”

Danny’s shoulders hiked up. “I’ve been a failure for a while now, I’m not worth the resources and they’d learn more from an autopsy.”

Oof, kid. Jim looked at Batman who seemed to feel the same… if Jim was reading him right.

“So, you wont object to a DNA test?” Robin asked with a cocky head tilt, at least he was relatively easy to read.

“You can try.” Danny said, and then realized what that sounded like. “I mean I wont stop you, but my DNA degrades faster outside my body. You’ll have to take me to whatever lab you plan on using.”

“Then we will.” Batman said and jerked his head towards where they’d probably parked that ridiculous car of his. But then he looked at Jim with a nod. “Commissioner.”

“Batman.” Jim returned the nod. “You’ll tell me how things turn out, yeah?”

“I’ll give you a report.” Batman joked – Jim could tell, it was gut feeling.

[kekewrites]

Tw. Bimbo reader, dark content, noncon, dubcon, corruption kink, coercion, creampie, size kink, magic sex toy/onahole/fleshlight, loss of virginity, not proof read

***

Thinking about being a childhood friend of a yandere duo.

You were just so friendly and cute, approaching them with candies in your tiny hands and offering it to them. So kind as you always play with them, and sometimes they would argue who'd be your husband when playing house. They often fought whenever they wanted to play with you but in the end, it always results to sharing you.

Middle school was a little different than Kindergarten. They get more protective when boys try to get close to you, painting them as insufferable brats that only want clout. Being neighbors with the wealthy kids, got you too much attention much to their liking, often getting bullied whenever you finally have some alone time, but this didn't get unnoticed as you wonder why that kid who pushed you on your locker, suddenly have bandage wrapped around his head and his reputation down.

Highschool is where the shift started. You wanted to explore more, finding new friends, and hanging out with other people, and they did not like that. You were just too dumb, they said. Too dumb to realize people manipulating you so that they can get close to them. Do you even realize that the girl from your class only talks to you about them? Dumb girl.

Safe to say, you never had a genuine friend in high school, not like you even had chance to form a deep level of friendship (by people who genuinely wanna be friends with you) by the way they hog all your attention and time.

College is where it gets difficult for them to spend time with you. Different schedules, classes, course. They even insisted you go to the same university as them. It's frustrating how little time you spend together, always with your stupid excuse of "working on an assignment".

Without you around, they definitely have a hard time relieving some tension. They couldn't just walt into your room and steal some panties scoot free without getting into trouble, even though they were star students and had plenty influence over the school. No, no, they won't put their reputation to ruin, they're your perfect best friends.

Despite them being a duo, they were quite different in terms of personality. One is patient and mature, thinking logical and more on the rational side. While the other is playful, outgoing and rash. Both have their charms that got everyone around their fingers. However, they wouldn't sleep with just anyone, no. It's hard to get their dick hard, always imagining your cute face whenever they try to fuck a desperate bitch to finally release some tension.

But your impatient friend had enough of some random girl, high pitch moans that's not yours annoying his ears. It's miserable to even hump his own hand, so hard and cold, different to what he imagine your tight warm cunt to be. This just won't cut it. He needs more, to finally feel your wet insides without you knowing.

So what's a good way to relieve tension?

Some good ol' fleshlight.

The moment it arrived at his doorstep, he straight up bolted to his door. Slamming the door close as he finally gets his hands on the toy after days of waiting. Fuck, he can't wait to use this thing.

It's like the half body sex toy he used to watch in porns. He was quite impressed by the details it had, he gotta give props for that, but that's not what he's after for. After reading the instructions, more like skimming and skipping most of the words. He use lubricant, using plenty of it and spreading it around the artificial pussy lips. Rubbing and feeling the flaps, like how he usually does. It's kinda weird that he's doing this for a toy, but he could just imagine it being your cunt, practicing his moves. After a few moments did he slide his thick finger inside the walls of the toy... How weird, the texture was oddly real, like it was alive. Well, that's probably some mechanic shit that the factory put there or something. This is his first time using a fleshlight and it cost a fortune through some sketchy website so it better be worth it.

***

You jolted in your sit in class, listening to your professor's discussion about physics until you suddenly feel something brushing on your thighs. Your head panning around the room before looking ahead, brushing it off. It was probably the wind.

You yelp when something began rubbing your cunt, earning a few concern looks for you and your professor glancing at you before going back to his discussion. You shrink in your sit, head hanging low as you pressed your lips together. Confused and scared by the phantom touch assaulting your nether region. Clutching your skirt, you try to maintain confused whimpers as the touches didn't stop.

You're scared.

The moment something pushed inside you, you stand up and excuse yourself, running to the nearest restroom. Your feet quick as you open a random stall and sit on the toilet. Your breathing heavy as you shakily lifts your skirt, looking at the wet patch on your panty.

What's happening? Why are you wet? How can something touching you there? You're not imagining this, right?

Your mind raced as you become more terrified. Is a ghost haunting you? Tears pool on your eyes, sniffling as the assault become more aggressive.

***

Fuck, this fleshlight was the best thing he ever bought. How was this even made? Whatever. He continues to pump his thick finger, inserting another one and he jump a bit as he felt the walls suck on his fingers. Damn, it can even do that? Just how realistic can this toy be? He's not complaining though.

He decided to touch the clit earning another tight squeeze. What a sensitive toy. He continues to play, eventually adding another finger. It was weird how the warm walls didn't run out of lube, if this were any normal toy it'd need to be lubricated after few minutes but this toy seems to produce it on its on.

He pulls out his fingers as he inspects the inside, it's undeniable that it's fake but the way it pulsates around nothing makes it a bit questionable on how it works.

Would your cunt also look like that? He could imagine your wrecked heaving face after fingering you. Poor little you never had something inside, let alone this thick fingers. He couldn't wait for the moment he'll ruin you.

***

You're straight up crying as an additional thick sensation pumped your insides. Squeezing your thighs shut, like it's gonna do something to stop the phantom. Everything inside you screams to remove the intrusion but you didn't know how. Opening your legs slightly, your shaky fingers removing your panty to see what's happening inside your cunt... but nothing was there. Only a gape.

Your fingers shifts towards the gape, gasping as the invincible touch was able to touch you yet you couldn't even see or feel it. Squirming uncomfortably, as you open your legs more to try and get "it" out with your fingers. Uselessly grabbing air, whimpering and sobbing as you fail to interrupt with its continuous pumping. Your stomach twisting and an unfamiliar coil was starting to unravel, your breath hitching and legs shaking.

But it's abruptly stop as the phantom pulled away.

Finally, relief and a little bit of disappointment fills your chest. Slumping on the toilet, panting like you run a marathon. You shift a bit as you sit upright, freezing as something thick pokes your entrance.

No way...

Your brain panics, your gaze staring at the way your hole widens and your legs subconsciously spreading more to prepare yourself for the inevitable. You clutch the wall of the stall, each hand gripping the surface. Tears streaming down your face and your cheeks getting hot.

This can't be happening.

You felt the thick thing stretch you open.

***

Something about fucking a fleshlight should embarrass him. But nah, with you in his mind there's nothing to be ashamed. This is just practice to him after all, he'll do this things eventually.

With his heavy cock around his fingers, he taps the opening of the fleshlight. His other hand grips the hip. Rubbing along the slit, he collects lube running on the head of his cock, catching the clit in the process. He lets out a breath, as he finally starts pushing his cock inside.

He's quite big, so he's a bit worried if he'll fit in some shady toy but he's sure he'll fit in you just right, even if he had to force himself in your tiny cunt.

But there's no need for consideration when it comes to a toy.

He sheath inside in one thrust.

Hissing at the way the walls clings to him, tightly wrapping around his cock and pulsating as if rejecting a foreign object. Shit, why does it feel like a virgin?

Warm, wet, and tight. The perfect toy pussy for him, this could even rival a real pussy if he were being honest. No time for adjusting as he starts to thrust. Pounding the onahole, roughly gripping the hips and fucking hard. Shit shit shit why does this feel so good? This stupid toy feels a whole lot better compare to a random slut.

His hips going hard and the way he feels the inside pulsating, sucking all his worth making him groan. Such a tight fake cunt.

He wonder if he can break the toy.

***

With a silent scream, your head jerk up as the big stretch was too sudden for your body to take. Legs wide open as you try to create space for the large object. You sob as quiet as possible, as the phantom starts pounding hard at your sensitive cunt. You want to scream but held back, tears blurring your vision as you pray for it to end.

Whimpering and sobbing was the only thing you can do. Waiting for the thrusting to stop, you teeth bite your lip to stop noise from escaping. It doesn't sound like you at all, it's weird, you're scared and confused.

Your mind tries to think of a distraction, to think of anything but the mysterious assault. How is this even happening? What did you do to deserve this? Why you?

Your breath hitched as you feel the tight coil in your stomach again. Moaning a little as you feel pleasure rising though you. Your hands clasp over your mouth, muffling your noise. You shake your head as the coil gets tighter and tighter, your legs shaking as you stutter words of apology to whoever's doing this.

And it snaps.

Your vision going white, body stiffening and eyes going into the back of your head.

Ah. You never felt this... good before.

It takes you a few minutes to recover. Your limbs feel like jelly, your chest rising up and down in a slow manner, and you greedily gulp air.

You were tired and exhausted but you were glad the assault has stop after that. You groggily starts to lift you panty's up however you felt something dripping down your hole.

... you wonder what it was.

***

After that day, the mysterious phantom would touch you at random times, when you're showering, classes, or even in bed late at night. It was torturous, you were becoming paranoid and it didn't go unnoticed by one of your best friend.

He's helping you study in the library as you'd ask him for his guidance in physics. You would've asked your other friend, but you can just imagine him play with your hair or something along of not really helping you study.

You're breathe hitch as you feel the phantom ghost rubbing your cunt. Shrinking on your sit, uncomfortably rubbing your legs.

"Something bothering you?" He ask, looking a bit concern of your shiftiness.

"O-oh, it's nothing. Just a little tired lately," You reassured, smiling as you pretend to be fine.

His sharp gaze examined your face before dropping the subject, deciding to just help you study.

"If you need something to talk to. I'm right here, ok?"

You smiled forcefully, "I-I will... Thank you."

***

You could never bring yourself to tell someone about it. No one would ever believe you.

You're laying in bed waiting for the phantom, already memorizing the way it'll touch you. You brace for the touch as you can't help but feel helpless. Are you going to live like this your entire life? You don't want to...

But would someone be willing to listen to you? To believe you? You don't wanna bother your best friend, you knew how busy he's gotten the recent days and you're doubtful that he'll even listen to your story when he's the rational one. That means...

Your thoughts were interrupted by the intrusion as you clutch your pillow and close your eyes. You're panting as the phantom starts its routine.

You're scared... You're scared that it's starting to feel good.

No. You don't want to be alone anymore on this.

You need help. Badly.

You shakily gets up from bed, putting some jacket on as you heads towards someone who can help you... At least you believe who will do.

***

"Oh? What's my little darling doing here at this late of night?" He grins as he opened the door with the sight of you.

You fidget with your jacket as you feel small under his gaze, "P-Please help me."

He raised his eyebrow, his grin replacing with a thin line. Yeah, he's playful but he'll never joke around when you're having a problem, "Come inside, we'll talk there, sweetie."

Sitting on his couch, you took a deep breath as you prepare to tell someone about this problem of yours. He won't make fun of you right? He won't be weirded out, right? He's a reliable person and your best friend.

He sits beside you, a serious and concerned expression on his face. It was rare to see him like this, which encourage you to finally tell him.

By the end, you were crying and hiccuping in your hands about the experiences you encounter with that phantom. Feeling his hand rub your back, cooing at you in comfort. He pulls your head to rest on his chest, telling you that everything's going to be fine.

You sob out a thank you, finding relief to finally get it out of your chest.

Unbeknownst to you, the man was smiling.

***

He didn't know if God was on his side. But, he didn't expect this would happen.

Who would've thought that the toy he was playing with was connected with cute lil you?

He didn't believe it at first but the way you described the timing was too much of a coincidence. Sweet little thing, don't worry you won't experience any scary thing from now on.

"Sweetie, do you want me to chase that scary invisible phantom away?" He cups your cheeks in his hands, locking gaze with you.

You sniffle before nodding, "Y-Yes, please..."

He gave you a toothy smile before gently pushing you down on his couch. His fingers swiping away your tears, "Listen to me, ok? I need you to trust me on this." His nose touching with yours as he leans close.

"O-ok... I trust you."

Dumb little girl.

You shouldn't have said that.

Now you've sealed your fate.

***

He wonders what was going on with you back when he helped you study in the library. Something was very off about you, and you were clearly uncomfortable to brought it up.

He thinks of you very often even when he's busy and swarmed with school works. Sometimes, getting frustrated to even continue and wants to just go to your place. He massages his aching temple, resting on his chair before a box caught his attention.

Oh yeah, that stupid guy gave him that a few weeks ago.

He recalls their conversation about it, saying that it'll help him release some stress. Well, he's plenty stressed now so why don't he test it out now?

He saunters to the box, sitting on the floor to unravel it. Only to be surprised by the object inside it.

An onahole...

If he was his usual self he would've flung this across the room and throw it to the garbage bin. But sometimes he needs to be relieve as well, plus he's a man too,

He's not that picky too.

This'll do for him.

A temporary replacement while thinking of your cunt.

[brokenmenswhore]

I need more stuff with poly!maraudersxreader spicy stuff🤭

i am but your humble servant 🙇‍♀️

mean | poly!marauders

pairing: poly!marauders x fem!reader (james, remus, & sirius)

summary: the boys get jealous seeing you with a study partner, and you reap the consequences when you tell sirius he was being ‘mean’

warnings: smut (MDNI 18+), rough sex, use of the word daddy twice

a/n: is my sirius favoritism showing too much or no

────── ☾ ──────

“I don’t think I’ll ever actually understand this class,” you said, the library study session beginning to take its toll.

“You’re getting it!” Evan encouraged, “we just need to work on it a little bit more.”

“I appreciate your faith in me, but I think after four hours, I either get it or I don’t,” you replied.

“I don’t mind the time,” Evan said, “especially when I get to spend it with you.”

Your three boyfriends could hear every single word exchanged between the two of you, being that they were seated only two tables away, and the second they heard Evan’s statement, Sirius jolted upwards from his chair.

“Sit down,” Remus instructed, “what are you gonna do? Kill him in the middle of our entire year?”

“Yeah, Remus, I just might,” Sirius responded, but still sat back down, eyes never leaving the two of you.

“You have to trust her, Sirius,” James scolded.

“It’s not her I don’t trust,” Sirius said, nostrils flaring in a rage.

Evan was sitting much closer to you than the boys were comfortable with, but they had to trust that you would shut him down if he overstepped.

“Yeah, this has at least been fun!” you told Evan, “but I think I’m a lost cause. This library is beginning to feel like an asylum.”

Evan shrugged, “I mean, we could change the scenery if that’s the problem. There’s usually not anyone in the fifth year potions classroom after the midday class. It would be quiet, and we could be alone and really focus.”

Evan shifted his chair even closer to you, placing an arm around the back of your chair, and leaning closer to you.

“That’s it, I’m gonna kill him,” Sirius said, standing up and reaching your table before Remus or James could keep him at bay.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Sirius spat, hands on the table as he leaned in, standing across from you.

“Studying?” you replied as Evan backed off.

“Studying,” he mocked in a high tone, “tell him he better get the fuck away from you if he wants to continue breathing.”

“I’m right here, Black, if you have a problem, say it straight to me,” Evan retorted, standing up to meet Sirius’s eye level.

“Ok, Rosier,” Sirius cleared his throat, “I have a problem with you attempting to feel up my girlfriend and then get her alone. I also have a problem with the lack of bruising on your face.”

“Sirius!” you and Remus scolded in unison, the other two boys now next to Sirius, ready to pull him back if he decided to lunge.

“I didn’t do a single thing,” Evan protested, “but if you’re so insecure that you think studying means she’ll cheat on you, maybe she never really liked you in the first place. She could do better anyway.”

Sirius went to jump over the table, but Remus and James held onto one arm each, holding him back as Evan laughed.

“This is not worth it,” Evan told you, “I’ll see you around.”

“Evan, I’m sorry-“ you tried to say as he walked away, your attention turning to Sirius. You were angry with him for the way he was acting, but his fury far outweighed yours.

Remus and James dropped their grip on Sirius when he calmed down. Sirius glared daggers into you. “Just studying, eh?”

“We were just studying until you tried to attack him,” you retorted.

“Go to the dorm room now before I decide to make you feel sorry right here. We’ll meet you up there.”

“But I still-“

“Now.”

The rage in Sirius’ voice was not something to take lightly. When he was mad, making him angrier often ended badly. You retreated to the dorms, seated cross-legged on your bed with a textbook open as you waited for your boyfriends to arrive.

The door to the dorms swung open so hard that the door slammed open against the wall. All three of your partners entered the room, Sirius stomping straight over to you and wrapping a hand around your throat.

“Had a fun day toying with other boys, huh?” he asked.

“Sirius, please, I really was just trying to study,” you pleaded, eyes finding Remus and James and searching for help, “you guys should know that I would never do that to you.”

“I know, baby,” Sirius’ voice weakened, his anger breaking at your pleas, “I’m just mad someone else tried to take what’s mine.”

“I think he was trying to make us jealous, too,” Remus added, “and it worked.”

“Is that what the big issue is?” you asked for clarification, “you’re all jealous?”

“He got really close to you,” James responded, the candor in his voice hurting your heart.

“I’m yours,” you said, grabbing the wrist around your throat, “I’m all of yours, and yours only, you know that.”

“We know,” Sirius said, “I’m just so mad. I can’t calm down.”

“You need to release the energy, Sirius,” James said, “you’re never gonna get past this if you don’t.”

Sirius looked into your eyes, and you gave him a slight nod, signaling to him that he could use you to release the energy. He had a lot of pent up rage from the earlier incident that he needed to let out. He needed to remind you, and himself, that you were his.

Sirius crashed his lips onto yours, a hand still on your throat as he pushed you back against the headboard.

Remus threw the textbook in front of you onto the floor, pulling your legs from their position until they were out in front of you. He kissed up your thighs until he was under your skirt, kissing on top your underwear as you let out a small moan into Sirius’s mouth.

Remus moved your underwear to the side, immediately diving in between your folds with his tongue, causing you to gasp. Sirius pulled away from your mouth, allowing him to hear the noises you made. You whined as Remus shoved his tongue into your soaking wet hole, the intrusion catching you off guard.

“Shit, Remmy,” you whimpered.

“Gotta remind you who you belong to, dove,” James spoke, taking a seat on the bed next to you, “you remember?”

“I’m y-yours, shit, James, all yours,” you whined as Remus continued to fuck you with his tongue, your hand taking its place on his head, fingers entwined in his hair, holding him in place.

“No fair,” Sirius pouted, “why do you get to hear her moan your name when I’m the one who got mad in the first place?”

“Y-ou were mean,” you explained, breathing heavy, making talking difficult as ever, trying to give Sirius the reason you weren’t focusing your attention to him, despite your better judgement.

Remus heard you and immediately stopped his assault on your core. You tried to push his head back down in desperation, but he took your hands off of his head, pinning them to your sides.

“What the fuck did you just say to me?” Sirius questioned, tone low and dark.

“Nothing,” you answered, hoping they would let it go but knowing better.

“I was mean, huh? I don’t deserve to hear you moan my name then, is that it? You think you’re so big and powerful, punishing me because I was mean?” Sirius was growing angrier and angrier, his rage overtaking him again.

“I- I’m sorry,” you tried to backtrack.

“No, no, it’s too late for that now. If you think I don’t deserve to hear you, then I won’t do anything that constitutes a noise. You don’t want me, then so be it.”

“No, please, I do, I want you, please-“

“Tell it to James,” Sirius cut you off. He was mad at you for talking back to him, and mad about earlier, but he was strictly doing this to punish you. He knew you loved how he fucked you when he was mad, and he was threatening to deny you what you wanted.

“Jamesie, please, tell him that I w-“

“Uh uh,” James tutted, “you’re with me now, not Sirius. You don’t get to have him now.”

You pouted, tears threatening to spill as you looked up at James. He leaned over you, kissing your forehead before your lips, distracting you with his mouth before a hand lifted up your skirt and traveled beneath the waistband of your underwear, finding its home on your pearl.

James began to rub in circles, eliciting a moan in the kiss.

“Remus, I think you can go back now,” James spoke.

Remus kept your hands pinned at your sides but shifted downward, tongue reentering you as James rubbed you off, the feeling of two different men on your core driving you insane.

Sirius slumped down on a chair a few feet away, lighting a cigarette as he watched Remus and James overstimulate you as they held you down.

“Jamie, please,” you moaned.

“Please what, dove?” James asked, beginning to touch any part of your core he could, the pleasure becoming too much to handle.

“Please let me come,” you begged.

James looked at Remus, who made eye contact with him, but never left you alone. He shoved his tongue in and out of you, curling it upwards once inside, eyes focused on James as he waited for any signal to stop.

James, however, was always the nicest to you in the bedroom. Though he knew Sirius and Remus would usually stop now, he was making the call, and he hated denying you your pleasure, even if you were being punished.

He leaned in and kissed you, his touch quickening and hardening as Remus continued to taste as much of you as he could, causing your climax to hit you without warning. You squealed and moaned into James’s mouth, legs shaking as Remus licked up any remnants of your high before pulling away from you and standing up.

You attempted to catch your breath as Sirius took one last drag of his cigarette, extinguishing the flame and walking over to you, your cheeks flushed and chest rising and falling rapidly as you tried to calm down.

“See, you didn’t need me, did you?” Sirius taunted.

“I-“

“Still don’t want me?”

You furiously shook your head no. “No, nonono, I want you, please, I need you,” you begged.

“Even though I’m so fucking mean?” he spat, intentionally working himself up to an angry place again.

“Yes, daddy, please,” you replied, using the name for him that you knew he couldn’t resist.

Sirius growled, tugging on his jeans and crawling over you, lightly kissing your neck before meeting your gaze.

“Beg for me,” he demanded.

Your heart was beating so hard it made your chest sore. “Please, daddy, I want you.”

“I think he’s earned hearing his name, sweetheart,” Remus spoke from beside you.

“Please, I need you so bad, Siri, I-“

The second you spoke his name, Sirius pushed your skirt up to your waist and your underwear to the side, inserting his entire length into you in one quick motion, a move he loved to use when he was punishing you for something. Though he had been inside of you plenty of times, he was too large to simply just start fucking you without a warm up, unless, that is, he was purposefully being mean.

You let out a high pitched moan at the intrusion, always forgetting just how deep his cock hits within you.

He then pulled almost his entire length out of you before slamming it back in, your body jolting upwards at the feeling of his hips snapping against yours. He started to fuck you, fast and hard, leaving no time for you to adjust to him or his size.

“Siri, fuck,” you moaned.

“That’s it,” he breathed, “you’re all mine. You fucking belong to me.”

All three boys were possessive of you, but knew you ‘belonged’ to all three of them, not just one. However, when Sirius was mad, the other boys didn’t matter. They knew he needed to feel like you were his and only his. All the boys needed that one-on-one intimacy at times, but Sirius craved it all the time, and sometimes Remus suspected that he really did wish you were all his.

“It’s too much, can’t- I c-“ you started to plead, but Sirius didn’t care, continuing his ruthless pace that nearly had your head slamming upwards into the headboard with each thrust.

“You can, and you will,” Sirius spoke, “you’re all fucking mine. I don’t even want anyone else near you. You’re gonna take it like a good girl so that everyone can hear who you belong to, understood?”

You nodded, taking a moment to process that you had to speak. “Yes, Siri.”

“Good girl,” he said, one of his hands grabbing your throat as he snapped his hips at an almost violent pace.

“Siri, please, I’m gonna c-“

“You know you’re supposed to wait until he comes,” Remus reminded you, “or else it just isn’t fair.”

“B- but- I-“

“No buts,” Remus said, running a thumb over your cheek to collect the tears that were now falling, “you wait until Siri is ready, and then you come with him. He deserves at least that much.”

Your walls were clenching around his cock, and you fought desperately not to come. You knew you were supposed to wait and come in unison with whoever was fucking you, but you were overstimulated, and Sirius’s possessiveness was hot.

“That’s right, baby, you gotta wait,” Sirius cooed, “my girl only comes when I say she can. You’re my girl, aren’t you?”

“Yes, Siri, I’m yours,” you responded, your hands grabbing desperately at his shoulders to steady yourself, “all yours.”

Sirius ran a hand over your body, scanning every inch of you as he fucked you. “All mine,” he whispered, almost more to himself than to you.

Sirius’s thrusts began to become erratic and sloppy, his high approaching as his clock twitched inside of you.

“You gonna come with me, love?” Sirius asked, and you whined in response, signaling that you were ready.

Sirius tightened his grip around your throat. “Come for me,” he commanded, “for me and only me.”

Your walls clenched around Sirius one last time as you came around him, one final “Sirius!” leaving your lips as you did.

The feeling of you coming around him caused Sirius to reach his high, his final few thrusts sharp and deep inside of you.

He took a moment to collect himself and catch his breath before pulling out of you.

“You remember who you belong to now?” James asked, sweetly repositioning your skirt over you to allow you modesty as you calmed down.

“Mhm,” you began to feel tired, “I’m all of yours.”

[nightingale-prompts]

Alfred's Apprentice- DCxDP prompt

Alfred isn't immortal and he can admit he's not getting any younger. It also wouldn't hurt to have someone else to take on the workload since the family isn't going to get smaller.

Instead of finding help, help found him.

"Call me Nightingale. Danny Nightingale." The young man said presenting a black card with perfect white ink calligraphy.

Danny was about Tim's age. He had already graduated early according to records. His record was perfect in all respects. Smart. An intellect comparable to geniuses in respects to science which had more uses in the households then you'd expect. He was very precise when it came to cleaning. Every surface needed to be cleaned regardless of how much use they see. In fact Danny would carry a blacklight and wipe anything with fingerprints. His almost supernatural strength allowed him to move furniture for easier cleaning.

Alfred had suspicions that Danny had a history in crime scene cleaning. He chose not to say anything.

The kid was a damn good cook as well. Though his tea isn't up to Alfred's standards. At least heist his aim is good.

Bruce at least didn't adopt this one and leave Alfred to take care of him.

"Nightingale, did you clean the ceiling?" Alfred asked.

"Yes, sir. Please leave any hard to reach places to me. The chandelier is especially finicky to polish and you have better things to tend to." He said bowing at the waist.

Bruce was still uncomfortable asking Danny for anything and let Alfred instruct him on what he should do. He has suspicions that Danny was being trained to tend to Damian should something happen to him. Alfred would come up with a contingency like that.

The others took to Danny as best as they could. Most treated him like a brother with the exception of Tim and Damian. Tim couldn't really see past them being the same age but Danny was able to understand his babble about theories and help him. Thought Danny was also to wait out Tim's insomnia easily and take him to bed.

Damian had no issue seeing Danny as a servant which was exactly what he wanted. Dick would criticize him about being rude but Danny would assure him that Damian was not being rude, he was just giving Danny a job to do.

It was during an outing with Damian that Danny was put to the test. They were just visiting an art supply store. Danny carried Damian's bags to the car and put them away in the trunk. As he opened the door to let Damian in a group of kidnappers tried to steal the young master.

It was likely a crime of opportunity as they saw a rich boy and his butler out and about.

As the group tried to drive of with Damian in tow all the ties on their van blew out as Danny had already thrown down caltrops under the ties.

Gracefully and with the dignity expected of a bulter he pried the rough hands off of Damian, breaking every finger as he went.

"Please refrain from such brutish actions. I'd usually be unwilling to let this go but you must be very desperate to commit a crime so blatantly as to steal a child. I'm in a rush to get the young master home for dinner. So remain here, the police will be here in a few moments."

With that Danny escorted Damian into the car and drove them home.

[igorluvr]

Can you do some with nam gyu?

‘ HERE WITH ME

PAIRING: nam-gyu x fem!reader

SYNOPSIS: when you enter the Squid Games, you encounter a particular group of people, and to your surprise, one of them takes a special liking to you.

CONTENT: heavyyyy fluff, he’s a big softie for u, reader replaces gyeong su oops, love at first sight aww, shy!reader, both fall in love too fast

AUTHORS NOTE: first fic !! i didn’t know what to write abt so i came up with my own plot i hope u enjoyyy !!

word count: [1k]

AFTER the first game, you lost all motivation to keep going. Hours felt like days, eating felt like a chore, and you felt horrible for leaving your little sister alone in the world. You told her it would be just a couple days, that “big sis would be back soon,” but now you knew that you might never reunite—at least not in this lifetime.

Everything felt disgusting. You ran to the bathroom and cried for what felt like hours, feeling like vomiting as you scrubbed the blood and guts off your skin, washing so hard you swore some of the blood was yours. The walk back to your room felt like a death sentence as the smell of bodies grew stronger.

Sitting on your bed, you stared into space, trying to distract your mind from all the carnage. It felt as if the world outside was dead silent, with nothing happening beyond your little bubble. Hunger stabbed at your stomach as everyone else lay asleep. Using the dark, quiet room as an escape, you imagined floating in space, where nothing could hurt you, finally alone with your thoughts and soul.

That peace was abruptly shattered when the lights suddenly blared on, like a siren reminding you of where you were. “Damn,” you thought, “I stayed up the whole night?” The pink-suited guards lined everyone up and loaded them into the colorful hallway, leading to the next game. You weren’t sure if it was due to hunger, lack of sleep, or pure terror, but you felt weak as you walked up the steps, each stomp taking a toll on your body.

You heard from the previous winner that you would be playing dalgona, but when you entered the next room, you were met with two circular rainbows and six lanes. The announcer instructed everyone to form groups of five. Even though you hadn't played many games as a child, it was common sense to know dalgona was not a team game. Had the man lied? Was this really it? You glanced at him, noticing a look of dismay on his face. Maybe he didn’t know either.

As the timer began, everyone formed their groups, leaving you standing alone. The minutes ticked by, and your nervousness grew. You knew waiting for someone to pick you was wrong, but you couldn’t bring yourself to speak up. Meeting new people had always been tough, and the pressure was tenfold now.

Just as you accepted your fate, a group of four approached you: a tall man with purple hair, a pretty boy with dark, long hair, a girl covered in piercings, and a boy who resembled a baby deer. The man with purple hair introduced himself as Thanos, but you zoned out, fixated on his friend. He stared deeply into your eyes as he fiddled with his rings. You tried to avoid eye contact, but every time you looked up, he was already watching you.

“Um, hellooooo? You deaf or somethin?” Thanos quipped. You snapped back to reality as he explained he wanted you on his team. You nodded, mainly out of necessity, but agreeing nonetheless.

The teams sat in neat rows, preparing for the games ahead. You overheard conversations about who would play which game, but your new team was strangely silent. Thanos and his friend chatted about a necklace, while the other two focused on the competitors. Your nerves ramped up, and you fidgeted with the sleeves of your jacket. The longer-haired boy suddenly tapped your shoulder.

“Hey, you okay?” he murmured. Usually, you would’ve said you were okay, but in this situation, what was the point of lying? You shook your head, and concern washed over his face.

“What’s wrong?” he asked softly. All you could do was shrug. Suddenly, he took your hands and kissed them gently. The warmth spread across your face, leaving you feeling flushed and exposed. Did he know how his words affected you? Were you developing feelings in a place like this?

“It’s all gonna be okay, darling, I promise,” he reassured you. Just then, the girl beside you, Se-mi, interrupted.

“Hey, how about instead of drooling over her, we figure out our games?” she scoffed. You watched as Nam-gyu shot her a venomous glare, transforming his expression entirely.

“Nobody was talking to you, bitch,” he spat, his sudden coldness making your mind whirl. Why was he hostile with her yet soft with you?

As if nothing had happened, he turned back to you. “Which game are you best at, sweetheart?” You barely whispered your answer: “Um... gong-gi, I think.” He immediately understood, and soon after, your team’s games were decided.

Se-mi would play ddakji first, Min-su would follow with flying stone, you’d go next with gong-gi, Nam-gyu would play spinning top, and Thanos would go last with jegi.

When your team was called, fear washed over you. As your knees weakened, you felt Nam-gyu squeeze your shoulder. “Don’t worry, baby, you’re gonna do great.” His words bolstered your confidence more than you could admit.

Each game passed swiftly, and your team finished with eight seconds to spare. As you crossed the finish line, Nam-gyu launched himself at you, wrapping his arms around your waist, making you bounce with excitement. You were enveloped in his scent, overpowering the stench of blood around you. The touch of his hands melted away your worries, and for a moment, you felt truly safe.

As you walked back to the rooms, a smile formed on your lips. Was he genuinely interested in you?

When you settled into bed, a few moments of silence were interrupted by the sound of the bed creaking beside you.

"You did sooo good in gong-gi. Your hands were literally moving like a ninja" he praised, beaming with admiration. You giggled, "It was nothing, really."

He crawled closer, intertwining his fingers with yours, you loved this habit he’d picked up. “I’m so proud of you. You looked nervous, but you pushed through and helped us win,” Nam-gyu chuckled. You responded with nothing but a shy smile; words didn’t feel like enough. You turned your face the other way so he wouldn't see how much his words affected you

“Don’t hide your pretty face, you’re cute when you smile,” he said, fingers lifting your chin to meet his gaze. The compliment made you smile brightly.

“There she is—there’s my girl,” he added, inching closer until he was almost spooning you. You melted against him, relieved to have someone to stay beside in this chaos. As time passed, nothing else mattered. It was unlike how time slowed before, this time it was a comfortable passing. His hand played with your hair, scratching your scalp in a soothing rhythm. 

“You remember how nervous you were when you first went up to play?” he asked, his voice low and playful. “You were a disaster, but it was the most adorable disaster I’ve ever seen.”

You chuckled softly, warmth pooling in your chest and comfortability blooming. “You were just as bad, you dropped the spinning top across the floor”

“Well, I had to make sure you didn't feel alone in your clumsiness,” he teased, his breath tickling your ear. The closeness felt intoxicating, and you turned your head slightly to catch a glimpse of him. 

“You’d better not mess up like that again. You’re the only person here I actually like” you said, nudging him with your shoulder.

His gaze softened for a bit, like he was admiring you, then quickly flashed back. “Only if you promise to stay by my side forever,” he replied, a twinkle in his eyes.

“Always,” you whispered, feeling an undeniable connection grow between you.

As the laughter settled, the world around you faded into the background, like you were in your own little bubble. He leaned in closer, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead that sent a shiver down your spine.

“When we get out, I’m gonna take you to my club so we can have a proper party together, get you out of that shell” he suggested, a grin spreading across his face. “Yea?”

“Yea, I’d like that, just make sure those girls aren’t all over you” you replied, smiling against him playfully.

“Oh don’t worry, Imma show you all off. Everyone’s gonna know you’re mines.” He chuckled, proceeding to place a soft kiss on your cheek.

The more than friendly banter made your heart swell, and you cuddled into his side, feeling a fuzzy warmth. You could see a future painted vividly in your mind—one filled with laughter, love, and euphoria.

Soon, you both fell asleep in each other’s arms, wrapped in a sense of warmth and possibility. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, hope flickered in your heart, igniting the feeling that maybe, against all odds, you could find light in this dark world together. In that moment, everything felt right, and you couldn’t imagine ever wanting to be anywhere else but here—with him.

[consciouscarrot]

day 21 - femdom [b.heelshire]

brahms heelshire x fem!reader

content warnings; handjob, tit sucking, subby brahms, sort of dacryphilia, lots of pet names (as usual), mentions of breastfeeding

notes; would love to do a longer version of this in the future, or anything with brahms really as he’s my baby

kinktober/flufftober masterlist

—————

you’d woken up in the middle of the night to brahms stood by your bedside, soft moonlight casting over him as his hands fisted over the wool of his cardigan.

“what’s wrong, baby,” you cooed, lifting your arms to encourage him to join you.

he quickly clambered onto you, dropping down and shoving his face into your chest, clinging to your nightdress with a muffled whine. only when you shifted beneath him did you realise why he’d come to you, his arousal evident from the way it pressed into your thigh.

“oh, honey, do y’need some help?”

he nodded against you, mask digging into your skin. you gently guided him into sitting up, kneeling on the bed before you, hands sat patiently on the tops of his thighs, attention locked on you.

he watched intently as you pulled your nightgown over your head, leaving you completely bare. his eyes roamed over you, letting out a pathetic whimper at the sight of you. he was just as enamoured by your body as he was the first time he’d seen you, fingers twitching against his legs in an effort to hold back his touches, desperate to please you, awaiting your instructions.

shifting forwards, your hands cupped his face, fingers slowly curling underneath the edges of his mask, giving him plenty of warning before you removed it, revealing his scarred skin, eyes glistening with desperate tears.

you leaned in, eyes fluttering shut as you pressed your lips to his, mouths moving together, a slow swipe of your tongue before he let you in, tongues swirling together as he gave in to his desires, tugging you into him and hands clutching tightly at you.

you pulled away, giggling when he tried to follow your lips, never wanting to separate. his brow furrowed, crocodile tears finally spilling over with his cry of complaint, head tilting in confusion when you tug at his shirt.

“gotta take these off, brahmsy. can’t help you otherwise,”

he rushed to strip off, and you internally cringe at the fabric tearing in his hastiness. but, his proud expression calms you, hopeful for your approval.

“good boy, baby. c’mere, let’s lay down,”

he beams, crawling over to you before curling up into your side, head resting on your tit as he grasped at you, hips involuntarily bucking up when his bare cock grazes your hip, pre trickling out his slit, clear fluid smearing over your skin.

“please, touch,” he cried, burying his face into you, nuzzling your nipple.

“shh, okay brahmsy, been so good for me,”

you ran a finger down the tender skin of his cock, chuckling to yourself when his hips bucked again, now mouthing at your tit, slow, open-mouth kisses and swipes of his tongue.

you melt when he lets out a particularly pitiful mewl, clinging to your body, hands gripping at you almost painfully, far too horny to be able to think properly.

finally wrapping your hand around him, you pumped your fist, thumb occasionally swiping over his head. he thrusted into your touch, strings of whimpers and breathy moans tumbling from his parted lips.

with your free hand, you guided your nipple into his mouth, gasping when he latched on immediately, suckling frantically as if worried that you’d pull away, and this would be the last time he ever got to feel your skin under his tongue. he suckled like he thought that if he tried hard enough, that your sweet milk would spill into his mouth, warm fluid pooling in his mouth, small amounts escaping and trickling down his chin.

you could feel slick collecting between your legs, hot cunt throbbing from the feel of his mouth and the way he cried out, sending vibrations through you.

having already been so pent up, both from waiting for you to wake up, and your incessant teasing, brahms’ high was already fast approaching, hips bucking wildly into your fist, pleasure causing his legs to tremble next to you.

you felt his teeth graze you, before he bit into the soft flesh of your tit, overwhelmed with pleasure. his tongue swiped over the indents of his teeth, soothing the broken skin with an apologetic whine.

he flicked his gaze up to you, eyes burning from the effort as he waited for your permission, trying his best to hold back from cumming too soon. you smiled down at him warmly, “cum for me, sweet boy.”

his eyes scrunched shut, stomach tensing before his head fell back, mouth agape as he finally let go with a drawn out moan. pearly cum spurted from his tip, splattering over the two of you as you slowed your movements, elongating out his orgasm.

he went limp in your arms, thoroughly mollified and smiling dreamily after being fully emptied. he sighed sleepily, and you settled for wiping your cum covered hand on the sheets, knowing that he’d be dead weight until at least tomorrow morning.

you stroked over his sweat-damp hair, watching him as he began to fall asleep, still clutching your body tightly against his.

you loved that he had only ever been yours, that he had never felt someone else’s loving touch, had never cum from somebody else’s hand. he had only ever needed you, hadn’t loved anyone else and never wanted to.

he was yours and only yours. you were just as obsessed with him, as he was you.

[nottsangel]

I NEED sub!ron to try fingering y/n for the first time 😭🙏

“i—“ “you what, ron? you’re nervous, baby? because i can tell.” you murmur softly as ron shakily rubs your clit after finally finding it with a bit of your help. but you couldn’t blame him— this was all new to him, as you’re usually the one that’s pleasuring him. but now he told you he was ready to pleasure you— he insisted, telling you that he felt bad, despite your constant reassurance that you love making him feel good.

“a bit more pressure, love” you guide him as he gradually applies more pressure on your aching clit, eliciting a soft moan from you. his sparkling eyes are closely observing your facial expressions, watching your reactions to his touch. “good. now move a bit lower.” his fingers trail down your core until they reach your dripping hole, aching to feel his fingers deep inside of you.

“bloody hell, you’re— you’re so wet.”

“all because of you, sweet boy.”

a shy smile creeps onto his face, his cheeks turning bright red at your words as his fingers aimlessly wander over your cunt, patiently waiting for your next instructions, still unable to meet your gaze. “push two fingers in, love. don’t be scared.” you instruct and he hesitates briefly, worried about hurting you, but he complies and gently slips two digits into your wet hole, causing you to let out a shattered breath at the sudden pleasure.

“is— is this good? does this feel good?”

“perfect, baby. you’re doing so well.”

lost in the sensation, you slowly shut your eyes, savouring the moment and trusting ron to continue on his own, as you have complete faith in him. he picks up quickly and curls his fingers, easily finding your g-spot, leaving you curious about where he learned these skills.

“oh, fuck, ron! just like that, baby, keep going” you cry out, sensing your orgasm nearing as he continues rubbing his digits against your sweet spot. before you realise it, your orgasm is already washing over you, causing you to arch your back and grip the sheets tightly. “ron…” you breathe out, chest heaving up and down as he nervously eyes you. “uh— yes? did i do bad…?” “you’re a fuckin’ natural.”

ੈ♡˳

[prythiansprincess]

mattheo's mixtape.

pairing: mattheo riddle x reader.

song inspiration: lovesong by the cure.

author's note: this idea has been in my head for so long, but now it's finally out. strap in babes, we're simping for mattheo on main. something about those pretty brown eyes and angelic little curls just get me. your honor, i adore him.

The bell outside the door to the record store chimed softly as the boys ventured inside. Mattheo peered curiously at the buzzing neon sign, the slightly scuffed black and white vinyl floor, and the racks and racks of records lining the walls. Though he hadn’t been to the muggle side of Edinburgh, it didn’t look all that different from its magical counterpart.

Yet Mattheo felt like a fish out of water all the same. 

Behind him, Theo continued rambling as they perused the vast collection of records laid out before them. “What songs have you picked out? Is there a theme? We’ll need to collect all the tapes for the cassette recorder and compile them all into a single tape.” 

The slew of questions Theo threw his way was enough to make him feel overwhelmed. Mattheo was well aware that he was completely out of his depth here, but he was determined to learn. Admittedly, he was quite ignorant of the muggle world until you came into his life. The more you told him about the queer customs and traditions of the non-magical population, the more he began to crave your stories of taking the tube, eating fish and chips until you were sick, and visiting Brighton with your cousins over the summer holiday. 

There was a whole world out there that you were a part of, which made him want to be part of it as well.

“You boys alright?” asked the kind woman behind the counter. "Would you like some help?"

Mattheo shied away from the attention, but as usual, Theo turned on his charm and flashed a winning smile at the older woman. “As a matter of fact, we do,” his friend drawled. “My mate here is looking to make a mixtape for his girlfriend.” 

The woman smiled warmly. “How sweet. I remember those days. There’s nothing quite as magical as first love,” she said with a dreamy, faraway expression. “I’d be happy to help. What songs did you have in mind?” 

After turning over his list, the woman, who turned out to be the owner of the record store, helped compile the cassettes Mattheo needed in order to make the mixtape. She patiently showed them how to record each track and slowed down the instructions so Mattheo could diligently write down notes. 

As Mattheo waited for the next track to record, he watched as Theo tried and failed to flirt with the older woman. 

“I’m flattered, dear. But I’m old enough to be your mum.” Mattheo snickered, causing his best friend to glare at him. 

“Age is nothing but a number, Annette.” 

“You’re a persistent one, aren’t you? I’m sure you’ll find your match someday, Theodore. As I have in my husband, whom I’m happily married to.” She turned over to Mattheo and smiled. “He was my first love too.” 

Making small talk had never been Mattheo’s strong suit and you often teased him that engaging in polite conversation with a stranger every once in a while wouldn’t kill him. Without fail, he sarcastically responded that it genuinely might, which earned him an eye roll. A fond one, though. Followed by a lip bite as you attempted to conceal a smile. 

“How long have you been together?” Mattheo asked curiously. 

“Twenty years,” Annette answered proudly. “Though we were friends for ages before he finally mustered up the courage to ask me out.”

Theo snorted. “Sounds familiar.” 

Mattheo swatted the back of his head. “My girl and I started out as friends too. Best friends, actually.”

“Hey!” Theo whined. “I take offense to that. I’ve known you longer. Only difference is that you and Y/N snog, which I’m more than open to if you asked.” The wink he sent Mattheo's way made the other boy blanch.

“Sorry about him.” It was a sentiment he was quite familiar with when it came to Theo. The twat tended to flirt with anything that had a pulse. Come to think of it, he wouldn't put it past Theo to chat up a corpse. Merlin knows Mattheo had witnessed his friend trying out a pick up line on the Grey Lady. “So, your husband. When did you realize he was the one?” 

“There wasn’t a specific moment, per say,” Annette said thoughtfully. “It’s a culmination of our history together. Since we were friends for so long, Declan just knew me. He knew how I took my coffee and had it ready for me first thing in the morning. He knew that I hated driving in the snow and always offered to give me lift to work when it did. He knew that I had a soft spot for strays and never complained when I brought them home. Declan makes me feel safe. Like I could weather anything the world threw at me as long as he was by my side. I guess when you know, you know."  

Mattheo pondered her words. He couldn’t help but recall all the times that his life felt like a never ending shit storm, like it would swallow him whole and drown him from the weight of his troubles. Yet at the end of the day, he always knew that after the storm came the rainbow. That’s what you were for him. You colored his world so brightly that the dark seemed inconsequential compared to your light. 

“Y/N makes me feel like that too,” Mattheo declared. “She’s patient and kind. She’s the type of person that always sees the good in people. She saw it in me even when I couldn’t see it myself.” 

Behind him, Theo sniffled as he patted his shoulder. For all his jokes and sarcasm, his friend was actually a hopeless romantic deep down. “For Salazar’s sake, Mattheo. Don’t make me bawl like a baby in front of the pretty lady.” Theo wiped at the corner of his eyes rather dramatically. “If Y/N doesn’t marry you someday, then I will. I bet my legs would look amazing in a white dress.”

At that, Mattheo chuckled. He was suddenly glad that his best friend was more than willing to be dragged along in Mattheo’s endeavors to impress his girl. Salazar knew he never would've gotten this far without Theo's self-proclaimed expertise on all things muggle, thanks to his Advanced Muggle Studies class.

As they wrapped up, Mattheo thanked Annette for all her help. Theo promised to come back and winked over his shoulder as Mattheo gathered all of his supplies. The older woman smiled at him as they parted ways.

"Best of luck, Mattheo. Though I doubt you need it. Thank you for indulging an old woman. It was genuinely a pleasure to be able to help you today."

"No, thank you. Y/N is going to love it."

"Your girlfriend is a very lucky girl."

Mattheo shook his head. "I'm the lucky one. This is the least I could do to show her how much I..." he trailed off, trying to find the right words. "How much I care for her."

Care didn't seem like a strong enough word, but it was close. Mattheo wasn't sure he could fully verbalize the intensity of what he felt for you. You weren't just his girlfriend. You were his best friend, too. His confidante. His rock. You were everything to him.

“Remember what I told you. When you know, you know." She patted Mattheo's shoulder. "You talk about Y/N like I talk about my husband. It's clear that she's very special to you. Don't let go of that one."

Mattheo smiled to himself, his cheeks flushing. “I won't.” 

The midnight moon glowed above the Scottish Isles, enveloping the rocky shores of the Black Lake with a chilly breeze that made you shudder even underneath the comfort of your red and gold striped sweater. 

“Are you cold?” Mattheo asked softly, his voice echoing through the empty beach. 

Before you could respond, your boyfriend shrugged off his coat and wrapped it around your shoulders. With a shy smile, you thanked Mattheo and flushed as he took your hand in his. As you continued on your late night stroll, he cleared pebbles in your path to ensure that you didn’t trip over them on the way to the dock. 

It was the little things—the small gestures that Mattheo enacted on a daily basis that made you fall for him even more. Though the relationship was fairly new, the connection between you was undeniable. Perhaps because you started out as potions partners, which eventually blossomed into friendship and now you couldn’t even remember a time when he wasn’t part of your life. 

The two of you settled at the end of the dock and the rickety wood creaked underneath the weight, adjusting to its visitors as Mattheo cuddled you into his side. Warmth radiated off of him, heating you from the inside out with a pleasant flush. Mattheo chuckled as you shoved your cold hands underneath his sweater, curling his fingers around yours and warming you up like your own personal heater. 

“So, why did you want to come out here tonight?” you asked after a moment. 

As you peered up at him, the moonlight kissed your boyfriend’s features, illuminating the sharp edges of his jawline and cheekbones, curving down the slope of his nose and stopping right above his Cupid’s bow where his soft, plush lips curled into a shy smile as he blinked down at you. 

The flush on his cheeks was almost an exact match to the crimson scarf around your neck. He absentmindedly fidgeted with your fingers, his chocolate brown eyes flickering over your face nervously. Mattheo looked so shy and earnest, so unlike the bad boy persona that everyone else seemed to attribute to your boyfriend. 

“I made you something,” he stated. You watched as he reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a cassette tape that you hadn’t noticed before. “I noticed that you listen to music while studying or walking through the halls, so I thought I’d compile a few of my favorite songs for you.” 

Your heart warmed at this beautiful boy. “You made me a mixtape?” 

Mattheo nodded, his angelic curls grazing his cheeks. “I can’t take all of the credit. Theo helped me quite a bit. I wasn’t sure how to make the tape for you, but he did since he’s taking Advanced Muggle Studies. We went into town last weekend and this lovely woman from the record shop showed us how to track and record the songs. I picked the ones that remind me of you the most.” 

You looked down at the cassette tape and smiled. The front was covered in little red hearts and spelled out in your boyfriend’s familiar scrawl was Matty’s Mixtape. As if that weren’t enough to make you swoon, underneath the tape was a small booklet with more of Mattheo’s handwriting. You smiled at his selection of songs. There was a mix of Queen, the Cure, the Clash, and of course, the Smiths. It was like having a little piece of Mattheo in your hands.

“I made you a booklet too. There’s a tracklist with reasons why I picked the songs,” Mattheo shuffled beside you, his body language conveying an uncharacteristic shyness. “I also drew a couple of things.” 

Sure enough, the booklet was filled with your boyfriend’s drawings. Your eyes filled with tears as you turned the pages. Mattheo rarely showed anyone his art. He was incredibly protective of anything he created since it showed a certain vulnerability. The fact that he was trusting you with it wasn’t something you took for granted. 

You traced over the drawings with a fond smile. There were portraits of you on one page, while the others contained memories that you were quite attached to. Your first date at the Three Broomsticks. The first time you wore his quidditch sweater to a Slytherin vs. Ravenclaw match. The day you shared a cup of hot chocolate at Madam Puddifoot’s when the two of you were just friends. They were all in here, immortalized on paper. 

Beside you, Mattheo watched anxiously as you flipped through the pages. When you got to the last one, you grinned up at him. “Matty, these are incredible.” 

“Really?” He asked, sounding a bit unsure. “You don’t think they’re cheesy?” 

“No, I love it!” You threw your arms around him and squeezed your boyfriend into a bear hug. He chuckled, burying his face in your hair and savoring the feel of you in his arms. As you pulled away to face him, Mattheo tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear. His heart hurt just to look at you. He really couldn’t believe you were his. You smiled softly. “And I love you.” 

You said it firmly, like it was a matter-of-fact. Like you were reciting a truth as fundamental as gravity. 

“You love me?” 

“I do,” you replied with a smile. “I love you, Mattheo Riddle.”

“Are you sure?” 

“Absolutely positive.” 

“I just don’t want you to feel like you have to say it because I made you this mixtape and gave you cheesy drawings—”

He stopped mid-sentence as you grabbed his face with both hands. Mattheo softened at the fierce determination in your eyes. “Mattheo. You’re the best boyfriend I’ve ever had. Before that, you were the best friend I’ve ever had too. You treat me like a queen and I never have to worry about other girls trying to talk to you because you never even give them the time of day. You make me soup when I’m sick. You give me your jumpers when I’m cold. You bring me coffee when I’m pulling all nighters. I couldn’t ask for a better boyfriend, so yes. I love you. Not because of the mixtape or the drawings, but because you’re you.”

Mattheo was taken aback. Before you, he never thought he was capable of caring for someone so deeply. You were ingrained in him. It was like the universe had cleaved his soul in two and he’d spent an eternity searching for you. You were his other half—the better half of him that he’d been missing all along. Now that he found you, he had no intention of letting you go. 

The lovestruck expression on his face warmed your heart. His eyes—those sweet, warm brown eyes made you feel weak in the knees. Mattheo cradled your jaw and looked at you like you were the only girl in the world. 

“I love you too, Y/N.” 

You smiled as he leaned forward, bringing your lips to his in a tender kiss. He sighed in relief like he’d been waiting for this all day, fingers snaking through your hair as your body melted into his. Mattheo hummed, peppering kisses all over your face. You giggled as he pecked your cheeks, nose, jaw, and neck. 

“I love you, I love you, I love you,” he declared with every kiss. 

Burying your face into his neck, you inhaled the familiar scent of amber, cinnamon, and leather. Mattheo sighed as you scratched his scalp.

“Will you tell me about the songs while we listen to them?” you murmured against his skin. 

Mattheo nodded as his curls tickled your cheek. “Of course, sweetheart.”

He pulled out a cassette player and popped the tape in. You cuddled into his side, smiling as he presented you with one half of the headphones. The soft crooning sound of the Smiths filled your ears as Mattheo played with your hair, telling you little anecdotes about the band and how Theo almost knocked over the cassette recorder while he tried to flirt with the record shop owner. 

You chuckled as you listened, picking up the sweet lyrics that made Mattheo choose the songs in the first place. You loved each one of his picks, but the best song by far was the sound of his heartbeat thudding in your ears, syncing with your own as it beat for him and him alone.

[houseofceline]

My Pretty Girl - T.N.

Starry Eyes

Pairing: Ravenclaw and sort of ditzy but talented Reader x Slytherin notorious playboy Theodore Nott

Warnings: None (yet ;))

“Starry eyes

What can I do for your attention.”

Summary: Theodore’s late to class but Snape blessed him with the opportunity of sitting next to a cute Ravenclaw who’s no help at all.

1 >

--------------------

Clockwise or counterclockwise? 

You honestly didn’t even know anymore. No matter how many hours you spent on reading the thick potions textbook or wasting bottles after bottles of ink on notes you still barely passed the class. 

You were starting to get a headache from trying to picture the text in your head. Everything was starting to become foggy. You sat down, defeated, and began doodling on the parchment instead of writing detailed instructions on how to make the stupid potion. So much for a Ravenclaw. 

Hmm off shoulder or puffed sleeves?

 You bit your lip trying to decide which option would look better on the dress you sketched out. The classroom was calming with little chattering among your classmates in the back allowing you to work easier. You could never work or do anything in silence, it drove you crazy. 

Suddenly the door slammed open causing you to jump a bit in your seat. 

“Nice of you to join us Mr. Nott, although your presence was expected half an hour ago,” Snape drawled out in his infamous monotone voice. 

“Sorry I overslept,” he shrugged while adjusting his tie. Some students who were listening in laughed. With his messed up tie and ‘burn marks’ on his neck, it was clear that he was definitely doing more than just sleeping. 

Snape nodded and pointed at the empty seat next to you, not surprising anyone that he didn’t take away any house points from his house. 

Theodore eyed you as he walked towards your table. He would’ve preferred sitting with his house, but he could never pass up the chance to sit next to a pretty girl. White blouse with a lace neckline and sleeves, black plaid skirt, Ravenclaw tie, black sleek hair, and a white headband. You didn’t fit into the usual type of girls he went for, but you were cute. 

Theodore took the seat next to you before tapping on your shoulder. 

You turned to him and almost jumped when you found his eyes on you. Gorgeous blueish grayish eyes. 

So pretty, this might be my new favorite color. 

“So uh,” Theo cleared his throat ignoring the fact that he swore he just saw your eyes sparkle, “what are we doing?” 

You blinked. Under the pressure of a somewhat attractive boy it made your memory much worse. 

“Umm, we’re brewing a potion and writing?” 

You had hoped that didn’t come out as a question and hoped that he’d just nod and ask someone else. 

Theodore raised an eyebrow and glanced at your blue tie again. 

“Which potion exactly?” He asked, narrowing his eyes at you as if you were lying to him. 

“Antidote to potions. Wait, no poisons. The common one. Wait, maybe the uncommon ones. Well I don’t think there’s a big difference. I mean, shouldn’t the uncommon ones be stronger and still fix the common ones?” You rambled on, looking off to the side lost in your own thoughts. 

Theodore blinked. The sorting hat rarely makes errors, maybe you were high but then again Lovegood’s also a Ravenclaw. The looney population in Ravenclaw must be high. 

“Why can’t they just make a super strong potion that fixes every poison? That’d make our jobs easier and we wouldn’t have to memorize so many potions,” you giggled as you turned back to your sketches. 

Theodore looked over your shoulder to try and catch a glimpse of your paper but instead your sketches caught his eye. You may be no help in potions, but you sure can draw. 

“Are you going to make that?” He asked while you squirmed at the close proximity of his face to yours. 

“Yes,” you mumbled shyly, scared of the criticism that might follow. You loved designing and fashion. It was one of the only things that came naturally to you, but coming from a family of doctors you were vulnerable to criticism for not following in their path. 

“Cute,” he said before his eyes found your potions paper. 

Common poisons. Theodore noticed that you only had half the page completed and chuckled. 

He got up towards the ingredients cabinet and grabbed his ingredients and the ones you were missing. 

Potions came easy to him. Not only did the teacher bias his house, but his mother was a skilled potions maker as well. Matter of fact her entire side of the family were. He had spent most of his summers in his manor reading journals of potion experiments and advanced information that weren’t even in his school textbooks. 

He quickly prepared his ingredients and started on his potion while continuing yours on the side. Luckily you were both in the back and Snape couldn’t catch him. He wrote down his notes and instructions making a mental note to tell you to copy them down later. You’d need it. 

Maybe he was also placed in the wrong house. Today, Hufflepuff seemed more fitting. You were lucky that you’re cute. 

[ot8xbangchansgirlsblog]

ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕣𝕥 𝕠𝕗 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕡𝕒𝕔𝕜🧸

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ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕗𝕚𝕧𝕖: Soft pillows

Word count: 3270

Summary: The SKZ pack finally leaves their house after a chaotic kitchen incident, filled with playful banter and teasing. As they drive to the hospital for Y/N’s doctor appointment, her anxiety grows, but friends like Felix and Han provide comfort. At the hospital, I.N stays by her side during a challenging examination, where the doctor discovers an infection. Meanwhile, the boys wait outside, sensing Y/N’s emotions and sharing lighthearted conversation, though worry lingers. Later, while shopping at the mall, Y/N and Felix enjoy their time together, supported by I.N’s watchful presence. The scene captures the mix of friendship, humor, and underlying concern as they rally around Y/N.

Warning: Angst/comfort, cursing, hate, insecurities, bruises, mini skirts.

After a flurry of Chan’s exasperated yelling and Y/N’s efforts to tidy up the kitchen with Felix and Han’s help, the pack finally managed to leave the SKZ pack house.

“It took us an hour to get out the door today,” Chan grumbled as they headed toward the neatly parked cars.

“Yeah, but at least Minho managed to get tofu out of his hair,” Han snickered, glancing at Minho, who was currently in a heated exchange with Changbin in the back.

“It wasn’t even me who used the kitchen!” Changbin protested, his arms crossed defiantly.

“I know, but I can’t stay mad at Y/Nnie. She’s too adorable and actually managed to cook a great meal without burning the place down,” Minho retorted, giving Changbin a playful smack on the back of the head.

The group’s playful banter continued, with teasing and light-hearted complaints filling the air. Chan eventually stepped in, “Okay, Changbin, Seungmin, and Hyunjin, you’re riding with me. The rest of you can go with Minho.”

Everyone responded with a chorus of affirmations. Y/N, holding Felix’s hand, remained quiet, her calm demeanor a stark contrast to Han’s lively chatter as he tried to entertain her.

“Alright, see you later, hyung,” Minho said quickly, giving Chan a quick peck on the cheek before adding, “Make sure you lot eat something; I don’t want to hear your grumbling stomachs while we’re shopping.”

“Okay, okay, I promise,” Chan chuckled, his tone both amused and guilty. He took the car keys from I.N and gave everyone a final wave. “Stay safe, guys. Take care of Y/nnie, please. If anything happens—”

“We’ll call you! Now can we go? I’m so excited, and my legs are freezing!” Han pouted dramatically, and Y/n giggled at the sight of his shivering legs peeking out from under his mini skirt.

“At least you look hot, babygirl,” Y/n teased playfully. Han’s cheeks flushed a deep red, a mixture of embarrassment and a hint of something more, making him chuckle nervously.

“Come on, say your goodbyes so we can get moving. Y/n’s appointment is soon, and I want to be there on time,” Leeknow instructed, starting up the car.

Y/n, being her usual shy self, stood rooted to the spot as Felix and Han went in for their goodbyes. The scene was a bit awkward, but endearing.

“Hey, I’ll see you soon, alright?” Chan said softly, his hand gently rubbing her arm. He extended his arms, gesturing for a hug. The polite gesture was so charming, and Y/n couldn’t help but smile.

“Yes, oppa,” she said, her eyes twinkling. As he wrapped his arms around her petite frame and kissed the top of her head, she felt butterflies flutter in her stomach.

“Bye, Y/nnie!” Changbin’s loud voice cut through the moment, startling Y/n and making her jump. She chuckled, shaking her head as she responded, “Bye, Changbin-ah.”

As the cars started and the engine roared to life, the group exchanged cheerful waves and playful jabs.

The car ride was surprisingly peaceful, but as they got closer to the doctor’s office, Y/n felt her nerves intensifying. She hated going to the doctor’s—too many germs and sad faces crowded into one place made her shiver and her throat tighten with anxiety.

No one seemed to notice her discomfort. Han and Felix were deep in conversation, Leeknow was humming along to the music, and I.N was focused on his phone, absorbed in whatever he was doing.

“Y/nnie, what do you think?” Han suddenly asked, pulling her out of her spiral of thoughts.

“Huh?” she replied, blinking at him, clearly not tuned into the conversation.

“What do you think about wolves with black fur?” he repeated, a playful smile on his face.

“Yeah... they’re whatever,” she mumbled, turning her gaze back out the window. She could feel the mood shift in the car; Han and Felix’s scents changed slightly, tinged with a sour sadness. Her omega instinctively whined in response.

Omega sad?

She glanced back at the two, furrowing her brows in confusion. “What’s wrong, guys?” she giggled at their pouts.

“You’re not paying attention to us,” Felix complained, wrapping his arms around her hand in a comforting gesture.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” she chuckled, guilt creeping in. “I’m just nervous about the appointment, that’s all.” She hoped her reassurance would ease their concerns.

“Oh…” Felix’s expression softened as he processed her words. “Don’t be nervous, jagiya! Minho hyung found the best omega specialist ever. I know, because Han and I go there all the time,” he said brightly, pushing out his calming pheromones. Instantly, Y/n felt her shoulders relax as the soothing scent wrapped around her, calming her racing heart.

Han leaned in closer, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “And I promise, the waiting room has the comfiest chairs! You might even take a nap!” he teased, his playful tone breaking through her anxiety.

With a smile, Y/n leaned against Felix, feeling the warmth of their friendship. “Okay, I’ll try to relax,” she said, grateful for their support. 

Leeknow couldn’t help but smile as he glanced at the omegas in the back, doting on Y/n. It was a refreshing change; they were usually the ones being babied, and it warmed his heart to see them take such good care of her.

As the car pulled up to the hospital, Y/n began nervously scratching at her patches. “Stop that,” Minho said gently, taking her hand in his to still her fidgeting.

“You’ll do great,” I.N added, his reassuring voice a calming presence as they all climbed out of the car. “Just sit there,” he instructed, leading her toward the entrance.

The hospital loomed large and spacious before them, with countless hallways branching out like a maze. Nurses bustled about—some looked bored, while others were clearly on a tight schedule, their faces focused and determined. The antiseptic smell hung heavily in the air, sharp and a little bitter, mingling with the artificial fragrance of soaps and cleaners wafting from the scent ventilators. It was a necessary balance, ensuring that the hospital didn’t reek of illness, but still, it felt a little overwhelming.

Han was right; the waiting room chairs were surprisingly comfortable. As Y/n sank into one, she couldn’t help but let out a soft sigh. The cozy seating was a small relief amid her swirling nerves, and she found herself smiling at the supportive faces surrounding her.

“See? Not so bad, right?” Han chirped, plopping down beside her. His cheerful demeanor made her feel a bit more at ease.

With a deep breath, Y/n squeezed Minho’s hand, grateful for the warmth and encouragement.

“Alright, the doctor said we can come in now,” I.N announced, a mix of excitement and nerves in his voice after finishing up Y/n’s paperwork. She nodded quickly, standing up as each of them whispered tiny “good lucks” to her.

“Isn’t Minho coming?” she asked, a little confused as to why the youngest was the one taking her in.

“Nope! Hyung says only alphas can accompany betas or omegas to the doctor,” I.N shrugged as they strolled down the stark white corridor. “He thinks we don’t really know what we’re walking into—like it could be an alpha doctor trying to take advantage. It annoys me to no end!” His frustration bubbled beneath the surface as he imagined protecting his packmates from any threat.

Understanding his concern, Y/n kept quiet, her heart racing as they approached the examination room. I.N knocked lightly on the door, and a soft “Come in” floated out.

As they entered, they found a female doctor seated behind a desk, typing away intently.

“Well, good morning, I.N!” she beamed, rising to greet them.

“Good morning, noona! How are you?” he replied, his smile brightening the room as they took their seats.

“I’m alright, darling! And you?” she asked, her eyes sparkling with warmth.

“I’m good! Channie-hyung sends his greetings, by the way. He couldn’t make it today.”

“Ah, okay, please tell him I send my regards too! I heard the great news about the new omega! who is this pretty omega?” She turned her attention to Y/n, her smile widening.

“Y-Y/n,” she stammered, cheeks flushing as she waved shyly. “Nice to meet you, noona.” She bowed slightly, quickly falling silent, feeling a mix of admiration and nerves.

“Nice to meet you too! I see you have a problem with your glands and you need a full body checkup. Do you mind if I check your glands out first?” The doctor asked, slipping on some gloves as she scanned Y/n’s file on her computer.

Y/n felt a flutter of anxiety, but I.N squeezed her hand reassuringly, encouraging her to trust the process.

I.N gave Y/n an encouraging look, nodding for her to sit on the examination bed. As she crisscrossed her legs, adjusting her skirt, I.N noticed and quickly removed his jacket, draping it gently over her lap.

“I got you,” he whispered, a warm smile spreading across his face. Y/n felt her cheeks heat up; his kindness felt almost angelic, leaving her wondering how she’d been so lucky to have such a respectful alpha by her side.

“Aish, what a charming boy,” the doctor teased, glancing at I.N with a playful glint in her eye. “You’ve got her all flustered now!”

“Ah, noona! It’s not like that, I promise!” I.N chuckled, rubbing the back of his head in embarrassment, his ears turning a shade of pink. “Just go on, will you?” His playful dismissal made Y/n laugh, the sound lifting some of the tension in the room.

“Okay, okay! You young lovebirds these days, I swear," She shook her head while chuckling before making her way to Y/n "Now, let’s see what we’re working with.” The doctor gestured toward Y/n’s neck, seeking permission to touch.

Y/n hesitated, glancing at I.N for reassurance. He nodded encouragingly, and she slowly turned her neck toward the doctor, who gently peeled off the patches with practiced care.

“Oh no,” the doctor gasped, her expression shifting from casual to serious. The sound made Y/n's stomach drop.

“What is it?” I.N asked, panic creeping into his voice. He leaned forward, his eyes wide with concern.

“It looks like it’s really infected,” she said, frowning as she grabbed her tools. “How long have you been... um, abusing your glands?”

Y/n flinched at the word “abuse,” a wave of shame washing over her. Her omega whimpered internally, urging the doctor to stop examining such a vulnerable area. As the doctor began pricking and probing, Y/n’s grip tightened around I.N’s hand, squeezing it as if it were a lifeline.

“I’m sorry, Y/nnie,” I.N said softly, his voice soothing. “Just breathe. I’m right here. You can do this.” He shifted closer, trying to create a barrier of safety around her.

“I— I didn’t mean to,” she stammered, her voice trembling. “I thought it was just normal.” She winced as the doctor applied pressure, the discomfort causing tears to prick at the corners of her eyes.

“I get it,” the doctor replied, her tone softening. “A lot of omegas don’t realize the signs until it’s too late. But we’re going to help you, okay? Just a little more pressure here.” She focused intently on her work, her expression serious but compassionate.

Y/n took a deep breath, her heart racing, but I.N’s presence anchored her. “You’re stronger than you think, Y/n,” he said, his eyes locked on hers, filled with unwavering support. “We’ll get through this together.”

With a determined nod, Y/n focused on I.N’s reassuring gaze, drawing strength from his presence as the doctor continued her examination, the sounds of the hospital fading into the background. Each gentle prod from the doctor felt a little less daunting with I.N by her side, reminding her that she was not alone in this

“Alright, I’ll just clean it up a little and then put some numbing cream on it. But I’m banning you from using any more scent blockers,” the doctor sighed as she walked over to a cabinet, pulling out various supplies with a practiced ease.

Y/n felt a mix of relief and dread. “Okay…” she mumbled, glancing at I.N, who was watching intently, concern etched on his face.

“Your scent should start to come back in a few days, and the redness and swelling should go down by tomorrow morning,” the doctor explained, setting up a small table with the necessary equipment. She looked back at Y/n. “Does it hurt right now?”

“Yeah, it’s throbbing a little,” Y/n replied, wincing as a burning sensation pulsed through her neck.

“Okay, that’s normal,” the doctor reassured her. “I’m going to give you some tablets and a cream to help with that. Just remember, you can’t swim or let anything touch the area until it’s healed and your scent is back.”

I.N leaned forward, his voice steady and calm. “Should we clean it as well?” he asked, eager to gather all the information he could to make this easier for Y/n.

“Yes, definitely. I’ll send all the instructions to Chan so we don’t forget anything. Shall we?” The doctor grabbed a tiny cup and a piece of cloth before returning to stand in front of Y/n, who felt her heart race.

Taking a deep breath, Y/n swallowed hard. She felt a knot of anxiety in her stomach as she prepared for the doctor’s hand to start examining her sensitive glands. “Okay,” she whispered, pressing her eyes shut tight.

“Just focus on me, Y/n,” I.N said softly, reaching out to hold her hand. “You’re doing great. I’m right here.”

The doctor moved closer, her hands steady as she began the procedure. Y/n felt a jolt of discomfort, and she instinctively squeezed I.N’s hand, trying to distract herself from the sensation.

“You’re almost there,” I.N encouraged, his voice warm and soothing. “Just a little longer.”

Y/N nodded, her breath quickening as the doctor worked with careful precision. “I can do this,” she whispered to herself, trying to draw strength from the warmth of the room and the supportive presence beside her.

“Exactly,” I.N replied, his eyes locked onto hers, a reassuring anchor amidst the whirlwind of anxiety.

Once the doctor finished cleaning Y/N's glands, a flicker of irritation crossed her features, her omega clearly agitated. She took a deep breath, attempting to distract herself from the discomfort, but I.N was vigilant, watching for any signs of distress. Relief washed over him when her expression softened, the tension slowly fading.

His alpha instincts were on high alert; he fought the urge to growl at the beta in the room, wanting nothing more than to shield Y/N from any further discomfort. “Now that that’s over with, Y/N, can you stand on the scale for me?” Yuna asked with a professional smile.

With a tentative nod, Y/N made her way to the scale, her heart pounding as she stood still. Yuna read the numbers aloud, her brows furrowing slightly. “Oof, you’re really light and skinny, darling.” She sucked in her breath, jotting down the figure. “Not good at all. I may need to write you a dietary meal plan.”

I.N frowned, concern etching his features. “Is it that bad?” he asked, knowing Y/N was petite but not realizing the extent of the issue.

“I’m going to run some blood work to see how serious it is, and then we can go from there,” Yuna said, rising to grab a tray filled with syringes and needles.

“I’ll be quick, sweetie,” she assured Y/N as she prepped her skin.

I.N instinctively looked away, unable to bear the thought of seeing Y/N in pain. Thankfully, the blood draw was over quickly, and the samples were sent off without incident.

“Okay, dear, I need you to stand up and remove your shirt,” Yuna said, but Y/N hesitated, her brows knitting together in concern.

“Do you have to?” she asked, insecurity creeping into her voice. She feared revealing the bruises hidden beneath her sweater.

“Yes, I have to make sure you’re physically well—”

“Is that really necessary?” I.N interjected, his protective instincts flaring. He wouldn’t allow them to strip her down.

“Okay…” Yuna took a cautious step back, glancing at Y/N. “We can just examine you with your shirt on.”

“Innie, it’s okay. I’m fine; she’s just doing her job,” Y/N said softly, wanting to calm the storm brewing within I.N. “It’ll be quick, and you’ll be right here, see?” She held his hand, feeling his body slowly relax as he nodded.

“Sorry, noona, I didn’t mean—”

“Oh hush, jeogin. I get it. I’ve been in that position before,” she reassured him with a gentle pat before guiding Y/N to remove her shirt.

When Y/N’s shirt was finally off, both Yuna and I.N gasped at the sight of the purple, blue, and yellow bruises marred across her skin.

“Oh dear,” Yuna murmured, concern washing over her.

“I—I know it looks bad, but they’re healing,” Y/N stammered, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

“Does Chan know about this?” I.N asked, confusion and worry etched on his face. What had happened to her body?

“No, he doesn’t, it doesn’t hurt—” she started, but a sharp poke at her ribs made her wince. “Okay, maybe a little.”

“Yeah, that’s a lot of damage. We’re going to be here for a while,” Yuna finally decided, pulling out her phone to call Chan, her expression serious.

🌱🍄🌻🥞 (one hour later)

The boys sat outside, tension hanging in the air as they sensed I.N’s shift in emotions in the bond. Each of them was acutely aware of the unspoken rules about bonding, so they didn’t press for details. Instead, they waited patiently, the minutes stretching out like hours.

“This is torture,” Felix huffed, resting his elbows on his knees, frustration etched on his face. “I really hope she’s okay.”

“She’s fine, Lix. They’re probably just waiting on something, or Chan made the doctor run more tests, you know how he is,” Minho reassured, nudging Felix’s cheek playfully.

Leeknow was right; Chan always insisted on extra tests just to be sure everything was alright. It could be annoying, but it was comforting to know that no one in their pack would be overlooked.

“Hey, did you talk to Seungmin today?” Han asked, shifting the focus.

“Not really, just a quick hi and bye,” Felix replied, fidgeting with the hem of his mini skirt. “He seemed really distracted, so I didn’t want to bother him.”

“Oh yeah, he’s probably going through it,” Han said casually, but then furrowed his brow in confusion. “I was with him earlier, and he was saying—”

“Hey guys!” I.N’s voice cut through, and the boys turned to see him walking back with Y/n, her arm looped through his. In his other hand, he held a bag filled with medications. Felix leaped to his feet, pulling Y/n into a warm embrace, burying his face in her hair.

“That felt like the longest hour ever. Let’s never do that again, please,” she whispered, her breath warm against his ear, causing a chuckle to bubble up inside him.

“It was just an hour, silly,” he replied, grinning.

“An hour of scentless rooms is not my idea of fun,” Han growled, crossing his arms, which made Y/n pout.

“Let’s leave, guys. You both look agitated,” Y/n said, glancing at the others with a playful smile, her energy instantly lifting the mood.

As they started to head out, I.N leaned closer to Y/n, whispering, “You did amazing in there.”

“Thanks, Innie. I couldn’t have done it without you,” she replied, her smile brightening even more.

“What did they say?” Leeknow asked, taking the bag of pills from I.N and scanning each package with a furrowed brow.

“They said we just have to clean her glands and apply the cream to clear the blockage. But…Yuna-ssi also mentioned she has a few fractures and broken ribs. She called Chan and i talked to him for a bit. He said we shouldn’t talk about it around her or the omegas,” I.N explained, his voice dropping to a whisper.

Leeknow’s eyes widened at the mention of broken ribs and fractures, his mind racing with concern. “Did she say where she got them from?” he pressed, glancing around to ensure they were out of earshot.

“No, hyung,” I.N replied, shaking his head. A worried expression crossed his face. “She just went quiet when Yuna-ssi brought it up, almost like she was about to cry, and then she dropped the whole situation.”

Leeknow sighed sadly, feeling the weight of the moment. They separated to get into the car, the atmosphere heavy with unspoken worries.

Well, obviously someone must have done that, Leeknow communicated through the bond, his frustration simmering just below the surface.

Yeah, it was heartbreaking to watch. Let’s just forget about it for now and talk later. I don’t want the omegas to feel like we’re discussing them, I.N replied, his tone tinged with concern.

Leeknow nodded, refocusing on the road. He couldn’t shake the feeling of unease as he listened to the lighthearted conversation happening in the backseat. He glanced at the rearview mirror, watching as Y/n laughed at something Felix said, her smile bright but somehow fragile.

It felt wrong to let their lightness overshadow the gravity of what had just been revealed. “Stay safe, Y/n,” he whispered under his breath, wishing he could shield her from whatever darkness lurked in her past.

🌱🍄🌻🥞

"Hyungggg!" Han whined as they strolled through the mall. "Can we please get some food and sit down? My feet are killing me!" After four hours of shopping, they had collected an impressive haul for Y/N and even made a trip back to the car to drop off some bags.

"Yeah, baby, I think it’s time to head home. It’s getting late," Leeknow replied, glancing at his Apple Watch.

"You can go with Han; I’ll keep an eye on these two," I.N assured Leeknow.

"Are you sure? I don’t want—"

"Don’t worry, hyung. They’re not ready to stop shopping just yet. Just take Han. I’ll get them to calm down in a few minutes. Besides, I need to grab her phone—Channie-hyung said it’s important."

"Okay, I’ll text the group to see what they want. Make sure you get their orders too and send them to me."

"Alright, stay safe! Text if you need anything."

Y/N and Felix continued to wander the mall, with I.N trailing closely behind, keeping a watchful eye on them. The two omegas were happily lost in window shopping, while Leeknow and Han headed off to grab dinner for the whole pack.

“We should definitely get this!” Felix squealed, stopping in front of a sparkling jewelry store.

“Felix, we’ve already bought so much! I don’t think I need anything else,” Y/N teased, dramatically pretending to pant as she pulled the pouting boy away from the store.

“Ah, fine! But I’m still getting you that necklace as a gift,” he insisted.

“Felix, with the way you and the pack have been spoiling me, I think I have enough jewelry for the next ten years!” Y/N complained, rolling her eyes playfully.

“Babygirl, I know you’re excited, but you need to calm down a little. We can come back in a few weeks and continue the shopping spree, okay?” I.N chimed in, gently coaxing Felix with a kiss on his pouting lips.

“Fine, you’re right,” Felix relented, intertwining his fingers with I.N's.

“Y/N, let’s grab your new phone and then head to Leeknow and Han. It’s getting pretty late, and I think it’s time to head home,” I.N instructed, ensuring Y/N and Felix stayed right in front of him as he balanced the bags of clothes, shoes, and who knows what else. He managed it all, but deep down, he was starting to wonder just how much they had bought. Probably a whole store.

🌱🍄🌻🥞

Dont forget to reblog and follow! <3

The next Chapter will be 0.5 aka the next half of this chapter. This was so dragged i feel and i didnt really get to include chan, Hyunjin, changbin and seungmin but i will next chapter! Thank you :)

Taglist: @ihrtlix @bowsnbang @katsukis1wife @thegingerthatwaited @thicccurls @xxeiraxx @paleangelsweets @klaydohart @eastleighsblog (open)

[jeonginsleftcheek]

Pretty naughty boy

pairing: boypussy!hyunjin x gn!reader

genre: smut

warnings: gn!reader but he calls them mommy, sub!hyunjin, fingering, mirror sex kinda, squirting, pussy slap

a/n: boypussy!skz is something i wanted to write for such a long time so this is just a lil drabble while i work on my hyune series (and lose my mind)🫶🏻

~ Masterlist

"Hyune, I'm home!"- you yell out to your boyfriend as you walk into the apartment, closing the door with a quiet click.

Usually, he's quick to greet you and give you a kiss unless he's concentrated on painting so you assume he must be working on his art.

You take your shoes off, feet padding on the floor quietly as you make your way to your room.

Swinging open the door, you stop in your tracks when you take in the sight.

It's your pretty boyfriend dressed in a cute baby pink top, a white skirt and white knee socks with bows, even wearing matching ones in his hair.

He turns around to look at you with his eyes wide and his plump lips shiny with your lipgloss as he was in the middle of applying it.

"Baby, what is this?"- you smirk, folding your hands and leaning on the door frame.

"Y-you're home early."- he gulps and you chuckle as you make your way towards him.

"Are you making yourself pretty for mommy?"- you coo, leaning over him.

"Mhm."- he nods and you smile, reaching out to tuck his hair behind his ear.

"You're already really pretty, baby boy. But you look even more delicious now. I really like these."- your hand is placed on his thigh as you gently caress his soft skin and play with the bows adorning it.

"I bought them just for you, mommy."- he looks at you with glassy eyes.

You chuckle as you take the applicator he forgot he had from his hands and tell him to pucker his lips up even more.

You finish applying the lipgloss and then lean in pressing your lips against his.

The kiss is wet and slow, your tongue licking at his plump lips, sucking them in between your teeth and making him whimper.

You notice him squirming on the chair pretty quickly as you keep swiping your tongue against his, tasting the strawberry lipgloss you love to wear.

"Come here."- you beckon your sweet boyfriend, leading him to the big mirror in the corner.

He looks at himself shyly, his cheeks rosy as you stand behind him, your hands firm on his waist.

"So pretty."- you whisper in his ear, before you start leaving kisses on his neck.

Hyunjin quietly whimpers, his eyes fluttering shut and you stop kissing him, hands still squeezing his waist.

"Open your eyes. I want you to look the whole time."- you smirk, licking a stripe on his neck.

"Yes, mommy."- he whines quietly and your hands roam under his skirt, grabbing at his ass.

"Oh you're a naughty baby, aren't you? Not even decent enough to wear any panties?"- you keep smirking as you knead his flesh.

"Mhm, I'm naughty."- he taunts a little, pushing back into your hands.

"Is that so? I happen to love naughty boys."- you say, hand between his legs as you gently touch his wetness.

He shivers instantly and you instruct him to sit down, as you take your place behind him and let him lean his back on you.

"Let me see."- you grip his thighs and he moans lifting them up over yours as you spread his legs.

His skirt rides up and you pull it up even more, revealing his glistening pink pussy.

"All wet for me, hm?"- you smirk into his neck, fingertips teasing as you run them around his cunt, avoiding the places he needs you the most.

"Mommy, please touch me! I waited all day!"- he whines.

"Tsk."- you land a slap on his wet cunt and he whines, his head falling back on your shoulder.

"Don't lie to me. I know you stuff this pussy with your fingers all day, it's always so fucking greedy."- you pinch his clit and he whimpers again.

"I'm sorry but I'm just so horny for you that I can't help it."- he smirks a little.

"Show me."- you say and he whines in protest.

"But I want mommy to touch me!"

"The more you misbehave the closer you get to your punishment. You don't want that, hm?"- you say it quietly, lowering his top down to play with his cute nipples.

"Mm... no, I don't."- he moans, bringing his hand to his clit and pressing his fingers into it.

"Good boy. Look at yourself."- you order as you pinch his nipples and he lifts his head up a little, hazy eyes staring at the sinful reflection in the mirror.

He circles his fingers on his clit, dipping them between his wet folds and teasing himself.

You grab his wrist and moves his hand away making him whine once again.

Pressing your fingers around his folds, you open his pretty cunt up and he moans as he looks at it.

"Does this place belong to mommy's cock?"- you smirk and see it clench around nothing.

"Yes, belongs to you mommy."- he says sweetly, batting his eyelashes and trying to get you to touch him.

It works because you're hungry for him so you slowly push two fingers in his cunt, immediately looking for the special spot.

He writhes in your hold as you bring your other hand down too, fingers playing with his puffy clit.

"Mm, so good!"- he whimpers when you find his spot.

"Better than your own fingers, huh?"- you chuckle, kissing his neck as you start fucking into him faster.

"So much better mommy!"- his hips keep lifting up to meet your hand, getting more desperate as he comes closer to his high.

The wet sounds of his pussy are nothing but sinful as arousal keeps gushing out of it, coating your fingers and driving you wild as you add a third finger in.

"Fuck, look at your pussy baby. So fucking greedy for me."- you push in deeper, your fingers slipping in easily.

Hyunjin's legs jerk up for a moment and then his thighs start shaking as he stares intently at his pussy getting ravaged with your fingers.

"Already close, huh?"- you ask mockingly. "Mommy fills you up so good, hm?"

"Yes, fill me up so good! Please, can I cum?"- he whines and you bite down on his neck, your fingers fucking into him with force, other hand still working on his little nub.

He takes that as a sign, moaning loudly as he gives into the pleasure completely, eyes glued to your fingers disappearing inside him and he cums.

He cums hard, squirting on himself, the carpet and the mirror in front as you pull your fingers out and keep torturing his clit.

You chuckle and grip his hair, bringing your fingers to his lips.

"Open."- you say and his lips part, letting you push your fingers in. He licks and sucks on them, cleaning them up and moaning at the taste of his own release.

Still holding his hair, and lifting up behind him so you can bend him over until his nose almost touches the mirror, you smirk.

"Now clean the mirror up."

✨Taglist: @moonchild9350 @janepg @velvetmoonlght @hwanghyunjinismybae @jehhskz @laylasbunbunny @porangporangmeong @jeonginslefthand @sapphirewaves @simpforleeknaur @laughatdanger

[lowkeyerror]

Basically My Boyfriend

Jennifer Check x Reader

Word Count: 2k

Notes: Reuqested, friends to lovers, smut, fingering, cunnulingus, virgin!reader

Summary: It’s a Friday night and Y/n and Needy are spending it bored in Jennifer’s room. When Needy mentions she passed on date night for it, Jennifer and Y/n push her to go. This leaves Jennifer and Y/n alone for the night, and something that started as a joke between the two quickly transforms into something more.

An: First request in forever hope its alright 🫣

Etc. Masterlist | More Jennifer Check

For being a girl as popular as she was, it was assumed that Jennifer Check would have more friends than she would know what to do with. Even despite her bitchy attitude, the attention she garnered from her looks alone was good enough reason to want to be around her. The thing is that Jennifer wasn’t stupid she knew that people would use her to gain social standing. It’s part of the reason that Jennifer didn’t really “do” friends.

The people that were close to her had been close to her for as long as anyone could remember. Needy and Y/n were the only real friends that Jennifer had. She liked it that way.

Jennifer didn’t need to explain herself to the pair, she didn’t need to dumb herself down, and she didn’t have to pretend to be nice. She could just be herself, which was seeming like more of a luxury these days.

“Jen, hello? Earth to Jennifer Check, where’d you go? I think we lost her Annie,” Y/n was waving her hand in front of the brunette’s face, while talking to the blonde at her side.

The three of them were piled into Jennifer’s room, on a Friday night.

Jennifer’s back hit the bed, “I’m so bored, we should’ve went to the bar tonight, I heard Low Shoulder was going to be there.”

“Not a chance. Annie and I would’ve been miserable while we watched you go play groupie to those losers,” Y/n follows suit lying flat on the bed.

“Needy knows how to party, besides she could’ve brought her boy toy.”

Needy rolls her eyes, but lays on the bed too, “You know I don’t like it when you call him that.”

“Precisely why I do it Anita,” Jennifer comments.

Needy lets out a sigh, “You know I canceled a date for this and he was really cool about it.”

Jen and Y/n sit up at the same time and say, “You what?”

“It’s no big deal.”

“It’s only 8, you have time. Tell him to come pick you up,” Y/n says looking at the blonde.

“But I already told my mom I was sleeping over,” Needy whines.

Jennifer gives the girl some words of encouragement, “You are going to sleep over… just at Chip’s. Now call your boy toy, first tell him to thank us, and then tell him that you should see a movie tonight.”

Just as the pair instructed Needy calls her boyfriend and he says that he's on his way.

“Are you guys sure you’re ok with me bailing?”

Y/n nods, “Go get laid, Annie. One of us deserves to tonight.”

She shoves your shoulder, “ Shut up you’re starting to sound too much like Jen.”

The dark-haired girl laughed, “Well you didn’t say she was wrong.”

Whatever snarky remark Needy was going to say dies as her phone rings. Chip is outside waiting for her.

“Remember, if he doesn’t give head, he’s better off dead,” Jennifer says as she pushes Needy out of the house.

“Meet us for breakfast tomorrow, the usual spot?” Y/n suggests and Needy nods.

“I’ll see you guys later.”

Jennifer and Y/n wave to her as Chip drives off in the direction of the movie theater.

“And then there were two,” Y/n says.

“You’re such a predictable nerd, I knew you would say that,” now it’s Jennifer rolling her eyes at you.

“Hey, need I remind you that you picked this predictable nerd to be one of your two friends. The other which is almost the same predictable nerd,” Y/n says as they walk back up the stairs.

Jen scoffs, “You’re nothing like Needy. For starters she’s with her boyfriend tonight, while you’re here with me.”

Y/n is quick to counter, “You’re basically my boyfriend anyway.”

“Oh am I?”

Y/n nods as they re-enter Jennifer’s room, “Yup.”

“And what could have possibly led you to this conclusion?”

Y/n jumps into Jen’s bed, “Well it’s Friday night and you have me in your bed.”

“You haven't heard of a hookup?”

Y/n closes her eyes briefly, “You like me too much for it just to be a hookup.”

Jen doesn't respond, instead she lets her eyes roam Y/n's figure. She’d be lying if she said the thought hadn’t crossed her mind once or twice. Y/n was in a way, exactly her type. Maybe a little more dorky than She'd usually go for, but Jen thought Y/n’s loser tendencies were endearing.

So, as she found herself alone with girl on a Friday night, no Needy, and no parents; she thought she'd try something.

Jennifer climbs onto the bed and straddles Y/n’s waist. The weight on her, made the girl open her eyes. She was slightly startled as she looked up at Jennifer.

“Maybe you’re right, definitely wouldn't call you a random hookup,” Jennifer’s face took on a look that Y/n had only seen her give other people.

Particularly boys that Jennifer would spend random nights with.

“What’re you doing ?”

Jennifer flips her head to the side, “We’ve known each other a long time, right Y/n?”

“Right,” the girl beneath her speaks breathlessly

“Have I ever told you how hot I think you are?”

Her hands reach for Y/n’s, guiding then to sit first on her thighs before sliding them up to her hips.

“Jen,” Y/n audibly gulps.

The dark-haired girl, giggles before rolling her hips down on Y/n. The dorky girl’s hands tighten their grip on Jennifer’s waist.

“Fuck Y/n, don't you want me?”

“Jennifer,” Y/n says more firmly this time.

Jennifer rolls her hips again, “You’re really going to make spell it out for you, aren’t you? You know, I like you right dingus, I've wanted you for a while now. You’re a dork, but I want you to be my dork.”

“This can't be real?” Y/n’s confusion peaks through.

“Let me show you how real it is, Y/n,” Jennifer’s look becomes less predatory and more desperate.

Y/n’s face began to heat up, “Jen I haven’t-”

“I can teach you,” she speaks gently, her hand caressing Y/n’s face.

“Promise me this isn’t just a hookup or some fucked up game you’re playing with me,” Y/n’s insecurities poke at her.

Jennifer leans down, so she is mere inches away from the other girl. Her hair falls, tickling Y/n’s face. Her eyes are softer than Y/n had ever seen as their breath mingles together.

“I like you, genuinely; no bullshit. We don’t have to do anything, if you don’t want-”

Y/n kisses her in the middle of speaking. It’s delicate and airy. A type of kiss that Jennifer isn’t used too. It takes the wind out of her.

“Be gentle with me Jen,” Y/n whispers against her lips.

She nods, “I’m going to worship you.”

Y/n feels her face heat even more. Jennifer connects their lips again. She holds back on the ferocity, but let’s the passion shining through the kiss. The sound of their lips colliding with each other and their shallow breaths made the room feel ten times hotter.

Y/n’s hand subconsciously left Jennifer’s waist to slink up and under her shirt. The skin there was cooler than she expected. Her touch was light but became even lighter as her hands skimmed over Jennifer’s bra.

Jennifer sits up breaking the kiss causing the girl beneath her to whine. Jen laughs at the sound before pulling her shirt over her head. Y/n’s eyes dilate at the sight of her abdomen. A small smirk tugs at Jennifer’s lips upon seeing Y/n’s reaction.

Her bra comes off next. Y/n’s eyes scale up Jennifer’s figure , lingering at her now exposed chest. As if she’s testing the waters the Y/n sits up. She keeps eye contact with Jennifer as she takes one of the more experienced girl’s nipples in her mouth.

She sucks lightly, closing her eyes as she runs her tongue across the stiff peak. Jen moans at the sensation nearly cradling the girl’s head further into her chest.

“Can I see you baby?” Jennifer says through her teeth, her free hand gripping the waistband of Y/n’s pants.

Y/n doesn’t answer her immediately, needing to give the other nipple the same attention as the first. She then trails hot open mouth kisses from Jennifer’s breast up to her neck stopping to whisper in the girl’s ear.

“Take it off.”

Jennifer doesn’t need to be told twice as she carefully removes Y/n’s shirt and pants as well. She pushes the girl to lay flat against the bed again. This time instead of straddling her waist, Jen stays near the foot of the bed, spreading Y/n’s legs open.

“You’re so wet for me already,” Jennifer sees the dampness through the other girl’s underwear.

She kisses up Y/n’s thighs, tentatively. She keeps eye contact as she gets closer and close to the Y/n’s cunt. Jennifer places some teasing kisses on Y/n’s clothed pussy, causing the girl to squirm.

“Can I-"

“Please,” Y/n begs before Jennifer even finished the sentence.

Her hip lift, encouraging Jennifer to take them off. Jennifer obliges sliding the soaked panties down Y/n’s legs.

“Fuck.”

The sight alone was enough to cause Jennifer to lose her composure. She couldn't take it anymore. She didn't hesitate to dive her face into Y/n’s pussy.

“Holy shit,” Y/n almost sits up as Jennifer’s tongue swirls around her clit.

Jennifer’s tongues moves fluidly through Y/n’s folds. Playfully going back and forth between teasing the entrance and sucking on the clit.

Jennifer vibrates with pleasure as your taste coats her mouth making her dizzy.

“You taste so good baby, can I put a finger in? I promise you’ll like it.”

Sweat covers Y/n’s forehead as she nods, “Fuck me.”

Jennifer slinks up Y/n’s body to connect their lips. Y/n almost cums as she tastes herself on Jennifer’s lips. This kiss is sloppier than the rest they shared but neither girl cared. The feeling was intoxicating.

While they kiss Jennifer slips her middle finger inside of Y/n. The girl mewls into Jennifer’s mouth. The dark-haired girl groans at how tight Y/n is around her finger. She could already feel the walls pulsating trying to pull her finger deeper inside.

“You’re so tight Y/n, have you even fingered yourself? Feels like I’m the first thing in here, fuck. I can’t wait to stretch you out, fill you up with a fat plastic cock. Have you moaning my name.”

“I haven’t Jen, I haven’t had anything but your finger inside of me. Fuck, add another, stretch me. I want to be good for you, Jennifer,” Y/n whines trying to gain for friction.

Jennifer listens to the girl and slowly pushes in another finger, she can feel Y/n twitching around her.

“Be a good girl and cum on my fingers,” Jennifer ‘s thumb begins to rub circles on Y/n’s clit.

Y/n falls over the edge, nails digging into Jennifer’s back as the only thing she could say was Jennifer’s name, over and over again.

Jennifer is carefully to bring Y/n down from her climax, not wishing to overstimulate her now. When she feels enough time has last, she removes her fingers from inside the girl.

She holds Y/n’s tired stare as she sucks the juices off of her fingers.

“Kiss me,” Y/n reaches for Jennifer, pulling her bavk down into a kiss.

“Addicting, isn’t it?” Jennifer pecks your lips again.

“Let me return the favor,” Y/n mumbles.

Jennifer can tell the girl is exhausted from her own orgasm. Though she would love nothing more than to have Y/n please her, she feels like it would be taken advantage of the girl.

Jennifer shakes her head, “Maybe later, let’s get you cleaned up first.”

Y/n goes to protest, but Jennifer’s soft gaze on her, stopped any rebuttal.

After a quick shower both girls were back in the bed this time clean. They laid facing each other, their hands interlocked. It was Y/n who ended up pulling Jennifer into her grasp.

“I didn’t know you could be so… sweet,” you tell her truthfully.

Jennifer rolls her eyes, trying to distract Y/n from the blush that was building on her face, “You’re such a dork.”

“I think we already established that already. What we haven’t established is when you’re taking me out?”

Jennifer scoffs, “Why do I have to take you out? You could ask me out you know.”

Y/n shakes her head, “Nope, you’re the boyfriend. So you’ve got to ask me out.”

Jennifer huffs in faux-annoyance, “Fine, I’ll ask you out, but you’re explaining it to Needy.”

Y/n pecks her lips again, “Deal.”

[always-just-red]

I loved the Drunked Call with Sylus scenario you made! I like the way you write it and I see you accepting request hehe. Can I request about... Sylus, Zayne and Caleb reaction meeting fem!reader, dates or accidentally met (you name it) and they noticed her long hair has been attached with chewed bubblegum? some kid pulled a prank on her before and she didn't even aware of it

Aw thank you so much!! 💕 I did different pranks for each of the boys just to keep things interesting- I hope you don't mind! They're all equally silly haha, and I had SO much fun writing them. Added Xavier and Raf for good measure, too!

It's Just Not Your Day...

L&DS Boys (& Caleb!) x Reader

Summary: It's you against the kids of Linkon City, and guess what? The kids are winning.

Genre: Humour + fluff!

Warnings/Additional tags: gn!reader, established relationship, swearing, canon pet names, reader gets a little stressed (and with some of these boys you can understand why 🙃)

| Word count: 4k | Masterlist | Opt-in to my taglist here!

Disclaimer: Characters belong to Love and Deepspace. All work is my own, so please don't repost or plagiarise!

Xavier ⭐

One of the perks of being a Deepspace Hunter is the way people look at you. You’re used to respect: appreciative nods and gestures, wide-eyed admiration. You’re out in Linkon almost every day, putting your life on the line for everyone in the city. You’re a hero, right?

So why is everyone looking at you so… funny?

“Xavier,” you speak in a hushed whisper, tugging at the sleeve of your partner’s uniform. “I don’t like this. Something weird is going on.”

He yawns. “What do you mean?”

Can he really not see it? Sure enough, a businessman strolls past you, his eyes locked on you as he frowns, mid-telephone call. You think he even stumbles on his words. “Just look around,” you whisper again. Someone is watching you from across the street, their head cocked.   

Xavier is already looking around. You’re on patrol; that’s sort of the point. But he trusts you, so he follows your instruction: casting his sky-blue eyes around a little more carefully. They narrow. “Sorry,” he says, because you’re usually on the same page, “what are you talking about exactly?”

You fold your arms impatiently. “People are looking at us, Xavier.”

“Oh, I…” he seems to hesitate, “I think they’re just looking at you.”

The words could be romantic, but you don’t get the impression they’re intended to be. He’s implying something. He’s uncertain. “What makes you say that?” you ask, hands moving to your hips.

He shifts awkwardly on his feet. “I think it’s your, you know—” his finger waggles in front of his mouth.

You don’t know. “My what?”

“Your moustache.”

“What?”

Your hand shoots to your upper lip, but you don’t feel anything out of the ordinary. Xavier is staring, though, so you reach for your phone and turn the camera on yourself.

A black, cartoon-villain moustache has been sketched onto your face.

You gape at your reflection. “H— how…?” you stutter, tracing your new feature. Then a memory of this morning flashes through your mind: how you’d fallen asleep on the train to work. How there were those two schoolkids, sniggering, when you’d woken up just in time for your stop. Ugh. Really?

Wait— this morning?!

“Xavier!” you exclaim, turning to him like you’d just found his sword in your back. “Why didn’t you say something?”

It’s just gone three in the afternoon, and he’s been with you for hours. “I thought you knew,” he mumbles, rubbing his neck gingerly.

“You thought I…” You’re too bewildered, too betrayed to repeat it fully. Worst of all you feel guilty; how the hell can he look so freaking innocent? You turn back to your phone, desperately trying to rub the ink from your skin. It doesn’t budge. It doesn’t fade.

“Are you ok?” Xavier asks.

Of course you’re not ok, you feel like an idiot. Your cheeks are hot and the redness is spreading to the rest of your face as you fail to reclaim any of your dignity. “No,” you spit back, “honestly, Xavier, how could you just let me walk around like I’m some kind of—”

You glance up to discover he’s no longer listening. He’s not even here; he’s over there, talking to an old man who’s sat completing a sudoku. Great. Wonderful. Why not? At least one of you is making a good impression on the citizens of Linkon City.

With your eyes close to watering, you have one last, futile attempt at wiping the moustache from your upper lip. It’s not working. Gods, you’re gonna be stuck like this, aren’t you?

Someone taps you on the shoulder, and you look up to see Xavier, back at your side. He smiles reassuringly, sporting a drawn-on moustache of his own. The ends of it are curled even more theatrically than yours.

“Xavier…” you half-laugh in surprise, your eyes watering even more. “Why would you—? Now we both look stupid.”

“I look stupid,” he corrects, running a thumb over your wet cheek. “You look really pretty, moustache or not.”

Zayne ❄

“What�� happened?”

You sit across from Zayne on a picturesque park bench, like something from a postcard: blue sky stretched above, wildflowers sprouting from the grass below. Birds are singing, butterflies are flittering about, and even the doctor looks perfect— unmarred by the first half of his work day, no matter how stressful it’s been.

It’s a fairy tale you covet: a little reunion with the man you love, on the odd occasion where your lunchbreaks match up and he isn’t drowning in paperwork. And it would be a fairy tale, if it wasn’t for you. You— your uniform soaked and your hair dripping wet. The wooden bench has gone damp beneath you; you’ve literally only just sat down.

“Gee, I don’t know, Zayne,” you hiss, face almost buried in your phone, “what do you think?”

Not too far away from you, some kids are locked in a water-gun battle, their shrieks of laughter loud and infuriating. Zayne glances between you and them, making his deductions. “Why—” he starts.

“Doesn’t matter,” you sniff, wiping your forehead with the back of your sleeve. “They messed with the wrong person, and we’re gonna make sure they know it.”

“We’re going to?”  

“Yeah. Me and you. That a problem?”

You shoot him a glare that sends a shiver down even his spine. “No,” he answers quickly— a survival instinct, uncharacteristically submissive— but his composure returns as you turn back to your phone. “Haven’t you got—”

Another dark look.

“Haven’t we got better things to do than start a war with some children in the park?”

“Not really. Justice is justice.” You shrug before pointing a finger at yourself. “Deepspace hunter.” Then at him. “Cardiac surgeon. Precision is kind of our thing, right? They really don’t stand a chance.” You’re laughing, now: “Gods, I almost feel sorry for them.”

Zayne has been watching your descent into madness with a calmness that does him credit. When he interrupts, it’s gentle. “I don’t think—”

Too gentle; you don’t hear him. “Pick your poison, Dr. Zayne!” Your phone is angled at him to reveal the all-too accessible armoury of an online store. “You’ve got your standard water pistols. Your water blasters.” You’re scrolling and indicating his choices as though you’re the salesman. “This one has two options, single shot or power shot, and— ooh! Look at this one! The AquaJet3000!”

With a soft laugh, Zayne pushes your phone out of his face. He would buy anything you’re selling, although— having seen the prices on your screen— he knows he’d be bankrupt within a week. “Linkon City is fortunate to have you defending it, and whilst I would be honoured, as always, to fight at your side, I was hoping we could… relax. You’re on a break, remember?”

You pout as he peels a wet strand of hair from your cheek. “Justice doesn’t take breaks.”

“Well, justice is going to have to on this occasion, because I said so.”

“Really?”

“Yes,” he chuckles. “Besides, you shouldn’t fight fire with fire, or water with water. A lot of people look up to you, you know. Me included. So, set a better example. Save violence for the Wanderers.”  

It ought to be patronising: him, lecturing you on right and wrong when you’ve already added three types of water-gun to your virtual cart. He’s always so righteous. So collected. So moral. You want to be mad at him, but how can you be when he’s looking at you like that? Like he thinks the world of you, even when you’re plotting revenge against ten-year-olds.

You have a point to make, so you fold your arms and turn your back on him, even though he’s making your heart feel so frustratingly warm and fuzzy.

“I have something for you,” he says quietly.

To hell with the point. “What is it?” you ask, spinning eagerly around.

He smiles as he retrieves something he’d concealed behind him. It’s a small-ish box, pale pink, with patterns printed to emulate white lace. There’s a logo in the centre and you recognise it at once. “No way,” you enthuse, “that new bakery finally opened?”

You’ve both been waiting for months. “I couldn’t resist when I saw it,” he confirms, lifting the lid. Inside sit two unbelievably pretty cupcakes, buttercream icing spiralled high and adorned with sprinkles of gold leaf. Zayne plucks one from the box. “Perhaps—” he offers it to you— “perhaps this can make you feel better? Without us needing to, well… attack children.”

You giggle; it does sound pretty stupid when he puts it like that. “Thanks, Zayne,” you grin, reaching out for your reward. You’re glad one of you is vaguely sensible— those water-guns were expensive.

The cake is an inch from your fingers when a jet of water sends it flying from Zayne’s hand. It lands at your feet with an unceremonious splat, and from somewhere behind you, laughter roars.

The doctor blinks down at it in disbelief, his hand still hovering beside yours. He grieves for a long moment, then looks to you solemnly like you’re a colleague and he’s about to ask for a scalpel:

“The AquaJet3000,” he says.  

Rafayel 🎨

“Rafayel, call me stupid one more time, and I’ll—”

You’ll… you’ll… what? He’s looking back at you with wide eyes, his hands frozen when they had just a moment ago been drying the plate you’d handed him. He has some nerve, pretending he’s the victim when he’s spent the entire evening insulting you. This is supposed to be a wholesome moment of domesticity— doing the dishes together before he has to disappear to a late-night gala— so why is he ruining it? Ever since you got home, it’s been: so how was your day, stupid? Hey, stupid, want a hand washing up?

He said he was fine with you sitting out the gala tonight, but maybe he’s not.

“I’ll do this,” you finish, lifting a palmful of suds from the sink and raising them to your lips, ready to blow.

“Puh-lease, you bought me this suit. You really think I can’t tell when you’re bluff— hey, wait! Stop!”

You do blow the bubbles at him, and he recoils, holding the plate and dishcloth up to defend himself. He blocks some of them, but not all of them. “Honestly, Raf, if you’re not ok with me skipping out on tonight then you can just say so.”  

He puts the plate gently aside. “I mean, of course I’m sad you’re not coming,” he thinks aloud as he sets about sweeping bubbles from his suit, “but I’m ok with it, really. You’ve had, like, a crazy week at work. You deserve a quiet night in.”

Compassion? Really? After you just—? Ugh. “So why were you being so mean, then?” you sigh, taking the cloth from him and dabbing away the bubbles he’s missed.

“Mean?”

“You’ve called me ‘stupid’ like fifty times in the span of, what— three hours?”

“Yeah,” he shrugs innocently. “Because you told me to.”

Huh? You stop what you’re doing. “Since when did I—”

He reaches over your shoulder and you feel fingers on your back. “See?” he answers, bringing a piece of paper in front of you. It looks like it’s been torn hastily from a notebook, and it says, in bold, capital letters: ‘CALL ME STUPID!!’

You take the note from Rafayel sheepishly, your lips parted in surprise. How did it—? Wait. “Those kids!” you exclaim, thinking back on your walk home from work. “Oh I knew they were spouting bullshit when they said they saw a Wanderer!”

Your dish-washing companion doesn’t seem impressed by your lightbulb moment. He’s watching you, confusion etched across his face, but you can see right through it. “Rafayel!” you slap a soapy hand to his chest, “you had to call me stupid that many times before telling me?”

“I thought you wrote it. Pet names can be weird sometimes— I don’t know what you’re into.”

He’s still acting. Still lying. Fine, two can play at that game.  

You fall deathly silent, turning back to the sink to retrieve the bowl you’d dropped in there the last time he’d called you your new ‘pet name’. “I guess it suits me,” you mumble, half to yourself.

“What d’you mean, cutie?”

He can call you cutie as many times as he wants; you’re out for blood. You give the bowl another once-over with a sponge. “Some hunter I am. Can’t even tell when some kids are messing with me.”

Rafayel frowns. “Hey, it’s been a long week, yeah? You’re just tired.”

“Tired,” you echo, and you drop the bowl back into the water with a dramatic plop. “Tired? No. I’m exhausted. No matter what I do, no matter how hard I work, there’s always… something. To make me feel like an idiot. To make me feel… stupid.”

“Hey,” Rafayel tries again, and his voice is fraught with worry. “Don’t say stuff like that. You’re not stupid. I’m stupid. I’m supposed to make you feel better and instead I was just screwing around. I’m sorry, ok? Don’t be sad. Please?”

He wraps his arms around you and pulls you close, resting his chin on the top of your head. You don’t give in, not at first, but then you hug him back. “Thanks, Raf. I’m ok— really.” You hear his phone buzz from where he’s left it on the counter. “You should go. Thomas will kill you if you’re late.”

“Nah, he needs me,” the artist chuckles. “You get first dibs, though. You sure you don’t want me to stay?”

“Yeah,” you laugh quietly back; your heart not quite in it. “Quiet night in, remember? Go on. Go.”

He steps away from you, though not before planting a light kiss on your cheek. “I’ll make it up to you when I get home,” he says, collecting his phone and the rest of his things. He gives you another kiss when he’s done, dodging your efforts to shoo him away. “Miss you already, cutie.”

“Go!”

And he does as he’s told this time, no matter how listlessly. It’s sweet he wants to stay and make things better, but he already has— he just doesn’t know it yet. It wasn’t the hug. It wasn’t the apology. You lean back against the counter with a smirk, savouring the view as he leaves.

It might have something to do with the note you’ve stuck on his back.

…

Rafayel retrieves the note the moment he closes the door behind him, stuffing it smugly into his pocket. He’ll have a story ready for you, by the time he gets home, about just how much you humiliated him. About how he walked around for a good hour before Thomas spotted the note and gave him a lecture about his ‘image’.

He smiles to himself; he’s a really good boyfriend.

Sylus 🩸

“You should know better than to keep me waiting, sweetie.”

Oh, great. This is just what you need.

You peek over the saddle of your motorcycle from where you’re crouched behind it. “Hey, Sylus,” you greet. The man is watching you, his arms folded. “Yeah, sorry.”

“Sorry?” he repeats, an eyebrow raised sceptically. “What— no ‘patience is a virtue, Sylus,’ no ‘oh please, Sylus, we both know you’ve nothing better to do?’”

You had disappeared behind your bike again, but you steal another glance at him. “Wow,” you marvel, “is this what you did before we met? Have arguments with yourself?”

“More or less,” he smiles dryly, then shrugs: “I’m not bad, as far as sparring partners go. You of all people can vouch for that. Besides, what were my other options? Mephisto?” He laughs. “Luke and Kieran?” He laughs harder.

“I’d rate Mephisto above you,” you add distractedly, no longer looking at him.

“Is that right?” he purrs, and it’s very obvious he doesn’t believe you.

He sounds close— too close— so you stand, re-entering his eyeline so he doesn’t come closer. Gods, this is embarrassing. Those stupid kids; he’s gonna have a field day if he finds out. “Yeah.” You wipe your hands slowly with a cloth, disguising the fact that your mind is scrambling. “The things that bird comes up with, just… scathing, honestly. Emotionally devastating.”

“Oh really?” Sylus tuts. “That’s awful. I can’t imagine where he gets it from.”

You smile back at him, resting your hands on your hips. You do feel bad, actually; you’d completely forgotten you were supposed to meet him this morning for breakfast before work. He’d received no texts to cancel. No calls. How long was he waiting at that sweet little café you’d picked out?

Then again, this morning isn’t really going to your plan, either.

“Something wrong with your bike?” he asks, because he’s already figured out that much. “Besides the usual, I mean.”

Your smile drops. Your whole act drops. “It’s nothing, Sylus.”

“You’ve already stood me up this morning, sweetie. Are you really going to lie to me, too?”

You let out an exasperated sigh. Fine. “Some kids graffitied it, ok?”

“This piece of junk? Really?” He toes the front wheel of it, then catches onto the withering look you’re sending him. “Oh no,” he tries again, with absolutely no enthusiasm, “what a dreadful crime against such an advanced, state-of-the-art vehicle.”

Prick. You keep the label behind tight lips as he wanders around the motorcycle to join you, assessing the damage. You’re stood by a bucket of water and the litany of rags you’ve used to try to scrub it clean— each one a testament to your failure. The sight alone makes you want to burst into tears. The skin of your hands is pink. Raw.

You feel cheated; you wish you were at that café right now.

Sylus taps a finger against his cheek, eyes narrowed pensively. They’re spoiled for choice of what to look at: misspelt obscenities, a generous number of crude symbols. All in permanent marker, naturally. “An improvement, wouldn’t you say?”

“I wouldn’t say. No.”

“Art is subjective.”

“Yeah? So is your face.” Not your best effort. Sylus glances up at you, amused. “Shut up,” you dismiss proactively. “Besides, this is my work vehicle. I can’t ride around Linkon on this. It would be—”

“Too staggering a blow to your professional reputation,” he finishes like he’s bored.

“This isn’t funny, Sylus.”

He points at a particularly chaotic drawing of a penis. “It is.”

You smack his hand away. “It’s not.” Your voice wobbles, ever so slightly betraying you. This is serious; you could get in trouble. You stare down at the graffiti, despair setting in.

Keys dangle in front of your eyes. “Here. Borrow my bike.”

“You’re joking, right?” You swat at them. “You really think that’s gonna help? Me— rolling up to work on a bike that costs twice my annual salary?”

“Twice? That’s cute, kitten.”

You glare at him, any guilt you felt about standing him up long gone. “Can you just stop? Being you? For like, two seconds? Please? This is the last thing I need today, Sylus. I’m gonna be late. I’m gonna embarrass myself in front of everyone. And worst of all? I was actually looking forward to seeing you this morning. Before all of this—” you gesture dejectedly at your bike— “all of this shit happened.”

Sylus is looking back at you, his arms crossed again. He does nothing for a few, slow seconds, and it’s just long enough to make you feel like you’re overreacting. Then he leans over, running a hand across your bike, and you watch as the graffiti flakes and lifts, turning to ash under the influence of his Evol.

He brushes his hands together when he’s done, straightening with a hmph and a self-satisfied smirk. Content (more than content— thoroughly impressed with himself) he turns back to you. Your bottom lip has dropped in surprise and he chuckles, reaching a finger to lift your chin. “You can thank me later, sweetie, and I intend to spend the entire day thinking about how you might. Don’t disappoint me, hmm?”  

You’re still silent, and it takes him a moment to realise you’re bristling with something other than awe and adoration. He frowns. “Sweetie?”

The second ‘sweetie’ breaks you, and not in the way he wants. You slap his chest, hard; he doesn’t really feel it.

“Sylus! You could have done that the whole time?!”

Caleb 🍎

“Sit still, dear.”

Sit still? How are you supposed to sit still when you’re brimming with rage? Every inch of your body is tense, waiting, yearning for you to spring into action. It wants you to retaliate. It wants revenge.

“I can’t, Grandma,” you whine, crossing your arms as if to hold yourself back. You’re still fidgeting on the chair as she navigates your hair with her scissors. “This sucks. Everything sucks. The only thing that could make this worse is if—”

You hear the front door swing open, then closed. Why couldn’t you keep your mouth shut?

Sure enough, Caleb strolls into the kitchen mere moments later. “What’s happenin’ here?” he asks, dropping a bag of groceries onto the countertop.

“Nothing,” you mumble. “Grandma’s giving me a haircut, that’s all.”

“Ok. So what’s actually happening here?” he tries again. He’s known you forever, after all; he can tell when you’re lying.

You swing a foot out at his shin as he tries to step closer. Nuh-uh. No investigating. No sticking his nose where it doesn’t belong. “Nothing,” you hiss again. “Gods, Caleb. What’s your problem?”

“You’re my problem, pipsqueak.” He uses his foot to push yours away. “At least Gran’s on my side—” his amethyst eyes seek her— “can you tell me what’s going on? Please? Pretty please?”

A hand breaks their eye contact. “You don’t have to answer that, Grandma.” You glare Caleb down. “The DAA has no authority here.”

“It does.”

“It doesn’t.”

“It does.”

“It doesn’t.”

Grandma sighs; she’s had far too many years of this. “You know Mr and Mrs. Lee’s children? Down the road? Well, they—”

“Grandma!” You round on her. How long did she last— all of three seconds? You bitterly regard Caleb, your voice dark with resentment: “They put gum in my hair, ok?”

“Really?”

“Yeah." He wanted the truth, didn’t he? “They lured me in with some nonsense about a Wanderer. I didn’t realise until, well, until…” You wave at your hair. “Too late.”

He considers the story, then shrugs. It’s clearly not as thrilling as he was anticipating, because he disappears from the kitchen, leaving you and Grandma in peace once more. The silence is as uncomfortable as it is sudden. You’d expected laughter— a lot of laughter. Teasing. Maybe even a shot at how gullible you are.

You release an uneasy breath, resting your head back on the chair.

“Sit still,” Grandma repeats, nudging you, prompting you to sit up straight. “I’ve almost got it. Just one more… here!” There’s a decisive snip.

“Thanks, Grandma.” You slump again, staring up at the ceiling.

You’re not sure what you’re waiting for. Maybe for the blush of your cheeks to cool, or for a Wanderer to spring out of the floor, killing you, so you can be dead and not so embarrassed. You hear heavy footsteps— Caleb returning— and you really wish the Wanderer would hurry up.

“Caleb…” Grandma’s tone is wary. “What are you doing?”

“What does it look like?”  

You readjust your head so you can look at him. He’s clutching what must be a dozen rolls of toilet paper; they’re piled up to just below his chin, almost spilling out over his arms. “How about it, pipsqueak?” he asks as he struggles to balance them. “A little team-up between the DAA and The Association— wanna do your part in reclaiming your neighbourhood?”

Now that’s more like it. “Fuck yes! Sorry, Grandma.”

You’re really as bad as each-other. She tuts reproachfully as you leap out of your chair, and she's disappointed, but not surprised.