#The only way you're getting that cat is by force

[bruhstories]

Bet II

p.1 here & p.3 here

summary: it's your first day as a cat sitter and things are going more than well. but will they stay that way? pairing: hwang in-ho/the front man x civilian!reader warnings & content: age gap, afab!reader, slightly detailed descriptions of reader’s background for plot purposes, red text for in-ho, purple for reader, pre 33rd squid game, canon divergent, mentions of domestic violence, veeeery slow burn, reader is an orphan w/c: 2.2k

a/n: hiii, this is pretty much reader's pov, but don't worry, we'll see things through in-ho's eyes in chapter 3! if you would like to be tagged for the next part, please check this post.

You woke up at five in the morning on the first day of your temporary job. It took you about fifteen minutes to walk to the bus stop, and another fifteen to get to Gangnam-gu by bus, but you needed to prepare breakfast for your uncle first. The last thing you wanted was to anger him. You washed a cup of rice and tossed it in the rice cooker before slicing some pickled radish and a fresh cucumber and carrot. While waiting for the rice to cook, you fried some tofu that you had marinated in gochujang the night before.

Around six you woke your uncle up with the bowl of bibimbap and a cup of freshly brewed coffee, but didn't stay long enough to hear him tell you off about how bad his coffee tasted, or how cold the rice was, all completely false statements. It was just the way your life was since your father passed away and your mother left the country. But you couldn't afford your own place, and you probably wouldn't any time soon, so you took odd jobs to stay away from him and pay his stupid debts.

You made it just in time for Eunjoo's breakfast, stepping through the door at 6:50. There was no cat in sight yet, but the moment you opened the food can, Eunjoo peeked from around the sofa, silently sneaking behind you, apprehensive about rubbing against your leg. She waited next to the water bowl as you scooped the food out and mashed it with the spoon, then bent down to place her plate on the silicone mat on the floor. 

It was only after you got back up that you noticed the mess in Mr. Hwang's penthouse. There were so many dishes in the sink, empty bottles of beer scattered on the dining table, an ashtray full of cigarette butts, takeaway boxes stacked on the countertop, a half-full coffee cup, tissues on the floor. You definitely remembered that his house was clean when you first visited him. Too clean, even, like he suffered from mysophobia. You had a lot to do in that house. And then there was Eunjoo, who, for some reason, refused to eat her breakfast despite sitting patiently next to her ceramic plate, tail curled around her paws.

Panic seeped into your veins as you urged the cat to eat, crouching next to her in hopes that she only needed a little encouragement, but Eunjoo stood her ground. You didn't know what to do, the mess was overwhelming and you frantically paced around the kitchen like a headless hen, not knowing what to do first — wash the dishes, take out the trash, force feed the cat. As though Mr. Hwang could see you, your phone vibrated with a text from him.

Good morning. Sorry about the mess, I had a little gathering last night before my trip. Is everything alright? In-ho 

A little gathering? He had a full-blown party! Maybe it was his birthday, or he had a bachelor party. But the mess wasn't important, Eunjoo was. You quickly saved his number in your contacts list and typed a reply.

Morning! Don't worry about the mess, I'll deal with it later. Eunjoo's not eating, though. Should I take her to the vet? She seems healthy, but I’m worrying.

You waited for his text while sitting on the floor, one hand extended for the cat to sniff it. She did, then went back to her plate, simply looking at you, staring directly into your soul with bright green eyes.

Ding!

Oh, I forgot to mention that she only eats breakfast and dinner when I do. You're going to have to eat something. There's plenty of food in the fridge. 

Well, that changed things. You typically had one meal a day since most of the food back home was eaten by your uncle, and you didn't want to pry into Mr. Hwang's fridge and pantry. Rummaging through your backpack, you found a half-eaten bag of shrimp crackers and shrugged. It was good enough for you if it meant she ate.

"My food." You told Eunjoo while holding the bag, giving it a small shake. "Your food." You pointed at her plate.

As if she could understand your words, Eunjoo turned to her breakfast while you munched on the crackers, nibbling on them slowly to save some for later. God only knew when you could have some more food. When her plate was empty, you twisted the bag of remaining snacks and put it back into your backpack before getting up from the tiled floor. 

"Okay." You told yourself. "First thing's first — scoop the poop."

There were two litter boxes in the penthouse, one in the guest bathroom and one in the en-suite. You checked both without paying much attention to your surroundings, and threw away all the clumps of pee and litter, then turned the TV on to play some music. You started off strong with some upbeat songs, a little rock, a bit of pop. Your father raised you on international music. Queen, in particular, was his favourite band, and so your playlist was full of their songs.

Don't Stop Me Now was perfect for doing the dishes. First, you put away all the dry plates and cutlery before emptying the sink. You didn't even bother trying to turn on the dishwasher, your hands worked better and faster, and with the speed of light, like Freddie Mercury sang, you finished washing all the dishes. Each time you rinsed a plate, you turned the tap off, careful not to waste any water. If there was one good thing about not being rich, it was that you learned to truly care about the environment, and tried your best to fight climate change. But you weren’t perfect. No one was. There were skeletons in your closet.

As the song came to an end, you tackled the takeaway boxes. You found the bin and threw away any leftover bits of food that were inedible, saving the cardboard boxes for recycling, along with the beer bottles. The penthouse was looking better by the minute, and after wiping the table and countertop, vacuuming and mopping the floor, you took your phone out and snapped a picture for Mr. Hwang. 

Kitchen and dining room done!

You pressed send and checked the time — 9:00. Shit, your other job was starting soon. Hastily, you turned the TV off, rinsed Eunjoo's water bowl and filled it with fresh water before checking the automatic feeder. It was still half-full, so you put your shoes on and left with the recyclables and trash bag.

"I'll be back tonight, kitty!"

The bin room was easy to find, and satisfied with the work you did, you went back to Guryong Village, where you taught Ali Abdul and his wife Korean. They couldn't afford to pay you, but when they could, they fed you, and that was all that mattered. It was the only meal you didn't need to share with your uncle, and it was more than enough to keep you going through the day. 

At 12:00 you took two buses to Lotte World, where you worked part-time as a mascot, from one to seven, boiling in the purple bear suit. You didn't mind it when you saw how happy the children were, though. Their smiles and happiness mattered more than how uncomfortable you felt, and on the bright side, it kept you very warm in winter. You had to look for positives, didn't you? Life wouldn't be enjoyable if all you did was focus on the negativity and unfairness of it. And life had been nothing but cruel to you. Yet, you persevered. 

You left the theme park at 7:15 and took the bus back to Gangnam-gu, drenched in sweat. The cold November air made you shiver under the coat as you stepped down the street, making your way to Mr. Hwang's penthouse for the second time that day. Kicking your shoes off, you kept the coat, because the apartment was chilly, and you tried to find the thermostat before feeding Eunjoo. 

Good evening! I hope your trip is going well! It's getting quite cold and I was wondering if I could turn the heating on, more for Eunjoo than for me. 

When there was no reply, you shrugged and opened a can of food, placing the plate on the mat, like you did in the morning, then took out a food container from your bag with leftover chicken karahi from Mrs. Abdul. She was kind enough to give you more, and you took out a plate from Mr. Hwang's kitchen to heat it in the microwave.

Eunjoo ate when you did, as she did in the morning, and you found it interesting that she didn't immediately dig in like your cousin's cat used to do. She had good manners, you thought with a smile. The food warmed you up a bit, and you washed the plate and chopsticks after you were done, but the warmth was soon replaced by a chill running down your spine. You had to start layering up for winter.

Ding!

Good evening, miss. My apologies for not replying quicker, work is hectic. Please turn the heating on and stay the night to make sure Eunjoo is warm.

Oh, that was straightforward. You chuckled at the text, but you couldn't stay the night. Instead, you walked back to the thermostat and searched the brand online to set a timer. You tested it first to make sure it worked, and when it did, you set the heating on every 3 hours. It should be enough for Eunjoo to stay warm. 

I appreciate it, sir, but I can't stay over. My uncle would be upset. I put the timer on and it works, I checked. I'll send you a picture after I scoop the poop and tidy up.

You sent the text and inspected the litter boxes. Eunjoo had the stinkiest poops you had ever sniffed, and as you scooped it out of the box, you couldn't help but talk to her. She was watching you from the corner of the guest bathroom, pupils blown at every movement you made, studying you.

"Girl, this is foul." You laughed, tying up the small bin bag. "Is it even normal for your shit to reek like this?" 

Eunjoo lost interest in you when you were done with her box and ran under the bed in Mr. Hwang's bedroom, while you walked back into the kitchen, dropping the bin bag next to your shoes. You filled a tall glass with water and searched for all the plants in the house, stopping at a small cactus in the living room.

When was the last time you watered the cactus?

Ding!

You got the reply quicker than you expected. It usually took In-ho a few minutes to get back to you, but you read it and laughed.

I don't remember. 

Typical for men to forget, you thought as you watered the plant. 

Ding!

Another text? You took your phone out and read it.

Why would your uncle be upset?

The question soured your mood, and you took a few steps back to sit on the edge of the sofa. It wasn't a subject you liked to talk about. In fact, it was a subject you refused to talk about, but Mr. Hwang had been nothing but kind to you, and you felt like you owed him an explanation. No, you felt compelled to give him an explanation, as though you couldn’t just tell him to mind his business.

He took me in after my dad died. He can be quite strict. It's not that I have to go back home, but if he doesn't have breakfast and a coffee when he wakes up, he'll tell me off.

Okay, so you didn't exactly explain your situation. Mr. Hwang didn't need to know all the details, all the beatings and all the insults, all the money he took from you to pay his debts. But hey, at least you had a roof over your head, right?

You washed Eunjoo's plate and water bowl and left them to dry while sorting out In-ho's laundry — whites with whites, blacks with blacks. There weren’t many colourful clothes, which you thought was normal for a man his age.  You were going to wash them in the morning, but you worked smart and hard, and so you wanted them to be ready for the next day. Loading the machine with the whites, you made sure Eunjoo didn't sneak in it and closed the door, then took a shower in the guest bathroom. 

Just as you promised, you brought your own soap and towel, and let the hot water wash away the dirt and dust accumulated throughout the day. It felt good not having to boil water to wash yourself, and you made a mental note to thank Mr. Hwang somehow when he returned from his trip. Perhaps you could cook him a meal and buy a new toy for Eunjoo, although she didn’t seem very playful, at least not when you were around. Stepping out of the bathroom with the towel wrapped around your body, you took a moment to enjoy being able to walk around half-naked with no one to disturb you. 

Thank you for letting me take a shower. Eunjoo is sleeping, the plants have been watered, and I’m ready to go home. Good night, Mr. Hwang!

tagging: @ri1liane @anmert1 @syraxnyra @frshluvcats @lanyia @mettreads @nightdark-dreamdark @bridge-always @nomugglesallowed @awekbachira @hobiesbrowngf @lovekm @audrey223 @ririgy @starkeyszn @thoughtfulbelieverstrawberry @maria-trisha @akiqvq @10hrs26mn @tenzko @okaycharr @politicstanner @moonxknightx @googie-jeon @swthrtbyeol @mariiestfu @ratsnestinmyhair

i hope i didn't miss anyone or tagged the wrong people lmaooo

[ethereal555]

FUCK BOY PT.1

player!jude x stonerblackfem!reader

You laugh, not quite believing your ears, “What?'

'Please don't make me say it again. Honestly baby, I'll never forgive myself'.

You fixate on him. The man you loved, gave your body to and had the lowest of lows with has done the one thing he promised never to do.

He betrayed you.

You get off of the couch, as if it’d become hot lava. You feel your blood vigorously pumping through your veins, heating up your cheeks and ears. Like church bells had just gone off, your ears were ringing.

“Get out my flat - now” you forced out shakily, you felt as if your throat was closing in. Your chest raising rapidly.

He blinks, as if I was speaking a foregin language.

'No, sit down' he pleads reaching for my hand. You swat his hand off of you, taking a huge step away from him.

“Jude please, I don’t want you to touch me. How dare you think you can even come into my home right after disrepecting me? Do you think I'm a joke?” you pant

'I'm not going to even ask you why you did it? She's clearly who you wanted all along. The world's right; you only got with a black girl to make your Mum feel better. I swear I should have listenied when they called you a man!fucking!whore”.

'I've wasted my time with you, time I'll never get back'! I realise in hysterics. You feel like someone has hit a wong in your ear, its an intense feeling you feel in your head. You cover your ears to silence your thoughts that were going off on autopilot.

You pace around going on a tangent, finding all the offesive words in the dictiionary to throw at him. You search to find any small inanimate objects to throw at him, a way to inflict the hurt you felt emotionally onto him.

'Yeah, Yeah,ok' he bitterly chuckled trying to play off as unfazed, as if all the lethal words you spat had fallen upon deaf ears. His jaw was tense, it was taking everything for him not to shut you up himself, but he knew how genuinely wrong he was in this situation and how much he deserved the names so he decided against taking any action. This time.

You scower the kitchen trying to find any items that were bought for you by him. You take the Gucci scarf off of your kitchen highchair, lobbing it at him. He sat there, with the nerve to have a scowl of his face 'Take it' you yelled as you threw the cloth. 'I don't want anything of yours, you're disgusting'.

It landed on his face, and he, in an act of self -discipline didn't react, folded it up placing next to him on your couch, licking his lips. I must admit it must've taken a lot for him to not retaliate, the Jude last year was another story.

'This too’', you removed the burgundy coloured Van Cleef bracelet he had gifted you for your birthday back in May, aiming it for his face. The athletic boy, with instincts like a cat, caught this too, placing it untop of the scarf next to him. His left leg was shaking with irritation. A scowl on his face. His teeth tucked into his plump bottom lip as he sat back cross armed on the couch, pissed.

“You're not fucking intimidating me, not in my own house. Good try. GET the fuck OUT JUDE!”

I was seeing red, because he wasn't listening to me. My nose and eyes running like a water fountain. I looked a hot mess. I wipe my face with the back of my hands. Embarrassed.

To my advantage, I find my tedbaker slippers on the floor near the door. I laugh at myself picking it up with full intention to throw it -

He stand ups “Don’t you fucking dare, I swear to God Tiana act like you have some fucking sense”.

'I will do whatever the fuck I want to you. You’re not welcome here anymore, I dont want you in my house anymore. Listen to me Jude, for once... leave' I cry, shaking. “I’ve told you to leave and you’re still here”

“I can’t, I can't leave you. Why dont you listen to me for once, just once, I can explain” he fought shouting over her cries.

'Why dont you understand' i hiccup, 'i cant, i physically cant sit here, whilst you, a fucking vile the vilest man ive ever met, wants to speak, to me and justify him sleeping with someone he's lied to me about for 8 FUCKING MONTHS'

' A bitch that racially abused me, and you fucking too? You are not worth anymore of my time. Like, really Jude? Are you that fucking desperate for pussy? Are you that desperate to hurt me? For fucks sake, if you really needed to fuck someone, at least fuck someone that resemebles the woman you claim to love 'more than football' she looks nothing like me Jude' you drag..

'It didn't happen rec-' he started

You felt the waterworks again but you didnt want to give him the satisfaction of seeing you cry. It was the fact he wasn't understanding that him explaining the details was causing you to have to envision him with another woman. Having had enough of this row, you turn around immediately going to your cabinet to get your pre rolled blunt.

'I wasn't in the right mind, I have no excuse, it was a genuine mistake. Baby, please..' he argued.

You turn on your stove, shoving your blunt into it, to light it. You sit on your counter once it finally draws and you inhale deeply, making sure to cough so it hit you harder, Cali. You weren’t in the right mental headspace to deal with this sober.

“You hear me Ti?” he begged

It was like pathetic fallacy, a dark day for you emotionally and the only things illuminating the house were the many Central London streetlights outside your grand glass windows as well as your purple led's shining from your room upstairs.

'You can check my phone, my social media DM’s, theres not one trace of a woman Tianna, because I've decided all I need you. You don't understand I cant do it without you- this thing called life, no. Hell i cant even go a day without thinking about you and the life we could have’ he confesses clapsing at his heart.

Then there's a deafening silence.

You transfix on him fresh tears still imprinted on your cheeks, as you inhale, one toke after another after another. You both hold each other’s eye contact for a split second, before you withdraw focusing on your blunt.

The boy you loved most in the world, now turned traitor, sat across from you looking helpless. The only things that can be heard in the flat were both your infrequent sniffles, your sharp inhales and distant modes of transport outside.

Emptiness.

He rubs his eyes, typical, always seeming to cry when you cried, excusing it as something he couldnt help because he loved you so much. Well if only he thought of that before he decided to fuck the bimbo.

You snigger, you’re eyes low, the weed has you feeling like you’re floating.

“Jayy” You drag, your head and body feeling extremely light

“Yeah, yes” he answers quick, attentive

“You know, it’s a true shame, for Denise. I just wonder, like, if only she knew what an absolute bitch she would have raised before having you, would she have had an a-' you giggle

' Don't finish that sentence or we'll have a problem' he growls shooting up, charging towards me.

'Get up off the counter now, Tiana. Have you lost your fucking mind?' he spat. His natural doe - shaped eyes enlarged with anger, this dark brows furrowed.

You look at him, your giggles disentergrating into the air just like your weed smoke, daring him to do what he's been doing indirecting for the past 8 months.

'Fucking dare do what, what are you going to do about it? Hm, Jude? I’m going to continue to make you feel like shit until you leave because I’ve asked you to LEAVE MY HOUSE and you're still here, so take the insult”. You take another puff of your blunt, feeling the anger rising again.

Granted, the blunt was probably making you say things you shouldn't, he deserved it.

“I could’ve hurt you, so so badly” he lets out his jaw clenched.

'I beg your pardon?, you fucking idiot what do you think I'm -“

'Shut up and let me talk, i could have kept it silent and have the whole world find out at the same time as you, but i didnt. i've flown here on Chrismas to tell you. To be here I’ve sacrificed spending time with my brother and my parents. I've literally put your feelings and wellbeing first before my families,before mine but you're too bloody dense to be objective and see things from another person's perspective'.

You drop your blunt on the counter, hopping off of it. At the same time, not caring if you blew the rest out in his face, although you knew he hated the smell.

'I don’t give a fuck about how it all unravels, or who's feeling you are putting first over others. You got your self here in the first place, you wouldnt be in this predicament if you had some sense about you; and stayed loyal to what we have built. And shit, even if you genuinely needed to fuck a girl, do better next time and fuck a woman who wont go round running your business, dumb boy. But you're too thick and pussy hungry to realise that' she seethed pushing at his chest with every last world.

'Jude, we are sooooooo done' you ridicule 'i cant actually emphasise it enough'

'We're not, technically can't be. Tiana, we havent been together since March, which is another reason I dont know why you're so angry'

You sneer, clenching your fists as your sides. Your nostrils flared, you decided against screaming or shouting; you didn't have the energy. So using up all the mature strength you could muster, you leave to go to your room. Genuine rage and shock slapped onto your facial features. You barge past him walking at high speed until he grips your wrist pulling you back to stand infront of him.

'Don't walk away from me when I''m speaking to you.' you snatch out of his harsh grasp.

You push at his chest, 'I've told you stop touching me, Jude. I'm walking away because this conversation can't be had with a 2 year old.'

'And who's the two year old?, I havent been the one throwing a fucking tantrum this whole time and gettting high thinking it’s cool, whilst an adult has been trying to have a mature conversation with you! He spits.

'A tantrum ? I have everyright to be fuming. You’re so lucky I'm high right now you should thank God because, if I was sober you know exactly what would happen' you threaten.

'Yeah I do know, because that’s the type of person you are. You’re so quick to dehumanise people',

“And rightfully so for you at least.. so... where do we go from here? Nowhere, bye. Shut the door after you'.

You push yourself off of the kitchen counter, that you were reluctantly leaning on.

'Stop fucking walking away from me. Tiana. We’re not finished. Act your fucking age', he exclaimed trapping you between himself and the counter, leaving no room for you too escape. Both his arms, decorated in bulging green veins, clenched either side of you.

He gets in my face as if you make it clear to me ‘I’m going to ask you again ok.. Why are you so fucking angry?'

'BECAUSE YOU'RE STILL FUCKING ME JUDE ME !!! WHAT DONT YOU UNDERSTAND!! you rage in this face.

You feel you're eyes watering again so you break out from his constraint and turn around to go a relight your blunt before taking another 3 tokes.

“What type of question is that-have you no emotional intelligence or sympathy?” you exhale

'Because you fly me out to Madrid to fuck and hang out. You choose to spend time with me when instead you could be with your family or friends. You come over here during you're off season to fuck me, kiss me, cuddle me, give me presents, bags and jewellery. You eat my ass, we've been fucking on my period for Gods sake - all these things have happened whilst we've been broken up. so dont - please dont try to play it like we're just sneaky links, sneaky links dont have history , sneaky links are not ex's'

'For Jobe’s birthday you flew me out, for Mark’s and Denise’s birthday you flew me out to celebrate with you and them. When you went to go check on your grandma I was there, all of this happened when we were broken up. Doesn’t this sound particularly “together” to you ?

'I explicitly rememeber telling you that if this was truly over than the fucking, and seeing each others family and all that had to stop, and then what did you do, you came to London the very next month and stayed 3 nights.'

'So excuse me for feeling cheated on, Jude’ you pant, out of breathe, you take some tissue roll from your counter top, wiping your eyes. Saying all of this makes you feel dumb, and taken advantage off.

He only looks at you, with regret, sympathy. Stillness befriended him. He turns around going to sit down.

“I wish you and Laura the best in the future.”

Jude sits down on your black fur rug, playing with his fingers, something he never did unless we was uncomfortable. His plump lips parted looking at the ground.

He clears his throat, his eyes glazed over. His tone was soft, you'd given a different persepctive he was to blind to have seen

'Love, I've tried to explain to you that there was no emotional connection there with Laura, she was something easy, she was something i used, as horrible as it sounds, to distract myself from the fact that i felt like i might lose you, the love of my life. But now that, well, we were back on track I feel the need to tell you because i don’t want anything in the way of our relationship progression. I - can assure all the while we have been sleeping with other, i swear i havent so much as touched another girl, this happened in early April before we started messing around again. When you gave me the expression it was really done. I needed to tell you about it today, because she’s been threatening to tell people and news outlets. And if she did that-“ he paused swallowing the lump in his throat.

'It would kill me Ti, you have to believe me, i don’t want to do this thing called life without, i'd rather die' he swears.

You stand there watching him, your blunt was now finished and to be honest you were so high, not even his most compassionate love poem would sober you up.

You start to clap, obnoxiously 'Weooooo, and the Oscar goes to Jude Belligoallll, wooooo', you fall into a fit of laughter.

He wasn’t amused. Not one bit. He looks directly at you, his widened eyes connecting with your red hazy ones.

You walk over to sit down infront of him on the floor. He listens attentively.

'Ok that was mean, sorry' you giggle

'Jude you can't hurt me and then apologize expecting everything to be better again, we need to - ' you hesistate trying to find the right words.

'To, level the score, surely. You play football baby, you know how it goes. We need to draw, right now its 1-0 to you. When I score, then its over right because then it'll be 1-1', you advise.

'Between me and you' I lean in closer, he stares following my lips.

'I like the look of Levi', you draw back, you lick your lips. The cotton mouth getting to you.

'I need water Jude, and you look like you've just seen a ghost. So I'll make that two waters, since you're not going to leave anytime soon right?'.

He snickers,a frown on his face when he grabs my jaw, tight.

'You're not going to do such a thing, not to me'

'So what? you can do it but I can't, boy please' you tut trying to leave from his grip.

'Sleep with him or any man for that matter and I swear I'll make you miserable' he swears

Your mouth drops, the audacity you think mentally

'Jude you're insane, clinically -'

' I mean just think of all the friends you've lost, because they were trying to fuck me, all those friends you've had to cut off are at my beck and call you know that right'

'You wouldnt dare' you snatch out of his grip on your jaw. You felt dizzy moving your head too fast, and the cali was only intensifiying both feeling of heartbreak and dizziness.

'I actually hate you Jude, oh my God, why would you say that?" you softly cried. It was such as slap in your face, espeically because those women he was mentioning were childhood bestfriends that it had taken you ages to get over, still to this day.

You stumble up, stomping into your room, slamming the door shut.

'What, are your feelings hurt baby?" he shouts after me, mockingly. His voice following me up the stairs.

---

part 2 may have smut

this was requested, a toxic jude. this page is for my girls that have been through many toxic relationships. im here to heal you LMAOO

[weirdlookingsnakewithlegs]

hey sauce, ☄️ here,

Seekers deserve to have a kinda small handle on their back, like just at the base of their neck wide enough to put a digit or two through. So they can be picked up like kittens. It can either fall off with age or stay there for their entire life (assuming they never receive any sort of injury). Just scoop them up and you're my friend now. No more runaway Seekerlings. Just nab you're coming with me now, do not resist.

The flock also deserve to kind of be like cats in the sense of they take turns with young, coparenting. Maybe one or both creators are worn out from one thing or another? Just need to get up and get a vent of fresh air? No problem, another jet will step in watch the little flappy bastard, whether it be the other creator, an available trinemate, or another flock member.

now for sads. It's inevitable at some point, there will be instances where the second creator has passed while a Seekerling is still young. Could be after the flappy bastard is born, could be just before, but at some point there will be an instance of a creator's partner not getting to be there to help raise said little flappy bastard. Another instance where either living creator's trine or dead creator's trine step in to fufill the primary purpose of the deceased creator. also could go the other way! Creator dies, maybe from complications or is taken out by some outside force, leaving just the second creator and flappy bastard Seekerling. Rest of the flock, especially the two creator's living trinemates will swoop in very quickly to fill that role (pun intended).

and for slightly less sads. It would also be some inevitable instance where both creators might perish in some way. Could be a flock extinction, orphaned Seekerling found in the wrecks of a bombing or after their creators were killed, could be an instance where one creator was already dead and the other perishes at some point, but either way if they don't perish and live long enough to be found (assuming one of the first three events), they're very likely to be adopted by either one of the creator's trinemates (if applicable) or potentially given to another creator who'd perhaps lost a Seekerling (maybe by defect and dispatched by the Winglord).

also give them glowsticks. please, let them have some glowsticks this can only end well.

These are all beautiful ideas, I love them so so so much buuuut I would like to add the idea of flock adopters, aka seekers that tend to take in orphaned or the rare abandoned seekerlets. For example, Wheezingarrow, who certainly picked up and raised a large amount of younglings despite never having any of his own, it’d be so fun to watch him wrangle like six seekerlets, snagging on their handles and holding them up to gently scold them. You could also consider altruistic behavior! Perhaps a seeker that lost their seekerling takes in a predacon bitlet, now wouldn’t that be chaos?

I have no doubt though that the living trinemates would eagerly scoop up the little seekerling(s), probably being extra doting given the circumstances as they don’t have the creator/sire bond the original creator did.

Also seekers working like a cat colony is 100% real in my mind, it’s where the cliques and flock ideas came to me from. They definitely take turns with their young, after all sometimes mom and dad need a fly without their little balls of chaos, who better to watch them than the rest of their trines, clique, or the flock? Love to imagine these little babysitting adventures are what got Thundercracker and Skywarp to meet as their creators and sires were apart of different cliques.

As for the glowsticks, bold of you to assume most seekerlets wouldn’t bite into them just to get a taste of those foul chemicals(<- has bitten into a few glowsticks as a child). Assuming they didn’t try to gobble on it, I can imagine some maybe snapping them open to cover themselves in the chemicals, why stick glow when you can glow? Probably would scare the life out of their parents but it would also be adorable in the sense a seekerlet might strap some glowsticks to themselves, parading around biolights they haven’t quite developed yet.

Also it’d be hilarious if someone like Thrust still had his handle and Ramjet just has to snag onto it every time he tries to start a fight.

[slaymitchabernathy]

Sick Day

| a companion to 'The Nanny' & also a request!|

Soarynn Snow feels that on most days, she's prepared for anything.

A scraped knee, a lost stuffed animal, a broken crayon. She can fix anything as long as she expects it to happen.

So when she wakes up next to her husband and feels how hot his forehead is, she is not prepared for Coriolanus to be sick. She's not surprised but she's never seen him get sick since the day she met him when she was hired as a nanny.

All three of the children were sick a while ago, something Ceraphina brought home from school and passed along to her siblings had the Snow household in shambles. While Soarynn juggled taking care of three children, Coriolanus locked himself away in his study so he could take care of the country.

Looks like he caught it a little later.

Soarynn pulls her hand away from his forehead and frowns, sitting up in their bed. She truly doesn't know what to do. He won't be pleased that he's sick, that he'll be forced to rest. He'll insist that he's fine, that he can do his job but he can't.

She looks back down at him and decides that the best route of action will be to let him sleep for as long as possible. She'll alert the correct people about his current state and they'll take it from there. She feels fine but these things come when you least expect them.

Soarynn quietly slips out of bed and pads into the bathroom, making sure to be quiet when going about her morning routine. She brushes her hair, does her little skincare routine before putting on some makeup, and then goes into the closet to get dressed. It's getting chillier so she chooses a long-sleeved dress for today.

When she comes back out, Coriolanus is still sound asleep which is a good thing. He works so hard, so late every day, maybe this is a good thing. He's always tired, even when he acts like he isn't. Soarynn has gotten good at seeing through his guarded facade.

She turns off the alarm clock so it doesn't wake him and gently scoops Petunia off the bed so she doesn't bother Coriolanus. "Time for breakfast," she whispers to the cat. Ceraphina has school today so she only has two children to care for until they pick Ceraphina up. But with Coriolanus sick, she technically has another child on her hands.

She still remembers how he acted when the children were sick. How he nearly lost his mind when Celeste coughed on the dinner rolls before passing one to him. "I cannot get sick," he had stressed to Soarynn after the children were put to bed, "we either need to quarantine the children or I can't leave my study."

Soarynn had rolled her eyes at the theatrics of it all but he was dead serious. He didn't leave his study for the rest of the week, taking all his meals and meetings in there. Soarynn had only visited once near the end of the week and he had a cot in there to sleep on. Never mind the fact that they had at least thirty guestrooms, no, he wanted to do things the hard way and she was more than happy to let him.

"Let's see how today goes," she mumbles to herself.

How bad can it be?

꧁ ꧂

When Soarynn visits Coriolanus after breakfast, he looks like a sick, feeble child during the war.

He's paler if that's possible, propped up against every pillow they have in their bed. Despite his preference to sleep shirtless, he's wearing a thick pullover and his hands shake when he takes the mug of warm tea she brought from him.

"Thank you, darling," he croaks, sniffling under the covers. Soarynn hums and runs her fingers through his golden curls, "You're welcome. I'm sorry you're sick, I know you hate missing out on things."

Coriolanus grumbles at the thought of missing a day of work. He had tried to leave their bedroom but Eudora caught him and sent him right back to bed, assuring him that all would be taken care of.

Soarynn had called Quintus who called everyone else to say that Coriolanus was sick and would be spending the next forty-eight hours in bed. Not working, not moving, doing absolutely nothing.

He hates it, she can see it in his eyes how much he hates this.

"I feel like I'm dying," he groans, leaning his head back, "my nose, my throat, my head. Did I ever tell you about writing you into my will? I might not make it so it's imperative that you know what you'll inherit."

Soarynn keeps herself from laughing at his dramatic attitude. The doctor already visited Coriolanus and confirmed her suspicions, a common cold. And Coriolanus is convinced that he has the plague.

"No," she tells him, grabbing the cool washcloth from the bowl she brought for him, "you didn't tell me about writing me into your will, but I appreciate you looking out for me." She brings the washcloth to his forehead and he closes his eyes, sighing heavily, "A man takes care of his family," he mumbles.

Soarynn nods, he takes wonderful care of all of them, "Yes he does, and now we get to take care of you," she sweetly reminds him. She'd be lying if she said this wasn't an exciting moment for her to finally be the one calling the shots for the two of them. Taking care of her husband is something she's rarely ever done.

"Now drink the rest of your tea so you can go back to bed."

Coriolanus does as he's told, gulping down the rest of the tea she made for him to soothe his throat. Soarynn pulls the washcloth away and sets the bowl on the bedside table before grabbing a tissue, "Try blowing your nose?"

Coriolanus cracks an eye open and gives her a look, "I'm not a child," he grumbles, snatching the tissue from her. Soarynn smiles and watches him blow his nose despite his attitude, "I know, the children didn't complain nearly as much as you have," she says, making him gasp.

"I'm sick," he reminds her, his voice raspy, "sick and dying."

Soarynn pulls the covers further up and gives his hand a squeeze, "We're all dying if you really think about it, and you'll be fine Coryo. Just rest, everything has been taken care of." He doesn't look too convinced but he lets her tuck him into bed and hands her the empty mug, "I think I might need a kiss to feel better," he says, shamelessly flirting with her even on his deathbed.

Soarynn chuckles, he's good, she'll give him that, "I can't darling," she tells him, "I can't get sick too, I have things to do." He immediately catches onto what she's doing, how she's acting how he did when the children were sick and he didn't want to catch it. "Fine," he pouts, "leave me then to die."

Soarynn kisses her fingertips and presses them to his cheek, "I'll see you later my brave man."

Soarynn leaves their bedroom with a smile on her face, ignoring his heavy sighs. He'll be fine.

꧁ ꧂

The doctor delivered some medicine when Soarynn was getting back from picking up Ceraphina with the children. "It'll speed up the process," he tells her. Soarynn nods, taking the small bottle from him, Coriolanus will be pleased to have such a quick recovery.

"Thank you," she says, "we'll go give it to him right now. Do you all want to say hello to your father?" All three children nod, especially Celeste and Caspian who made Coriolanus cards to help him feel better.

The children have been worried about him. After Livia's death, any sickness scares them even though Soarynn assures them that he is perfectly fine. Dramatic but fine.

"We can give Daddy our cards!" Celeste says, already running up the stairs. Ceraphiana follows behind her while Soarynn and Caspian slowly make their way up the stairs. Caspian has entered the "I can do it Momma" phase where he insists on doing everything by himself. Even if it takes ten times longer than it usually would.

So it's a slow walk up the stairs, but Soarynn doesn't mind. She's so proud of her baby boy for doing things by himself, growing up to be big and strong.

They finally reach the top where the girls are impatiently waiting outside of the bedroom doors to their parent's bedroom. Coriolanus has reprimanded them several times for barging into their room in the morning, mostly because he and Soarynn like to partake in morning sex and they don't need the children seeing that.

So now they wait outside for someone to let them in.

"We have to be quiet," she says to the children, holding up a finger to her lips, "he's very tired." She quietly opens the doors and they tiptoe to the bed where Coriolanus is passed out. Petunia who was sleeping on the foot of the bed wakes up when she smells more people and does a big stretch before padding up to where Coriolanus is sleeping.

"Daddy looks so white," Ceraphina whispers, "is he a ghost now?"

Soarynn smiles, shaking her head, "No, although he's convinced he's going to become one."

Soarynn gently places a hand on her husband's cheek, rubbing her thumb back and forth until he begins to wake up. He mumbles something before his piercing blue eyes open up and he takes in the sight of his entire family watching him sleep.

"Have you come to see me off?" He asks with a scratchy voice.

Celeste gasps and Soarynn gives him a sharp look, "You are not dying Coriolanus," she scolds, "and we brought you medience."

"And cards," Caspian adds, holding up his card for Coriolanus to see.

Coriolanus sits up with a groan and runs a hand through his tangled curls, "Well aren't I a lucky man then hmm?"

Celeste throws all caution out of the window and pulls herself onto the bed, crawling over to her father who immediately pulls her into his lap, "Have you been behaving for your mother?" He asks, rubbing her back. Celeste nods and looks at Soarynn for backup, "Yes Daddy. We made you cards, look!"

Celeste shows him the pink card she made for him. She drew flowers on the front and on the inside she drew a picture of him. Soarynn and Eudora did their best to refrain from laughing when she requested a white crayon to draw Coriolanus. Coriolanus takes the card from her small hand and makes little comments about the different flowers she drew, "Such an artistic hand," he says, opening the card.

His face falls when he sees how Celeste chose to draw him and Soarynn covers her mouth to keep from laughing, "Oh darling," he says, furrowing his brows, "I think you drew me with the wrong colored crayon."

Celeste cranes her neck and looks at the drawing she made of him, "No I didn't. Your skin is white," she tells him, poking his face, "so I used the white crayon."

Coriolanus looks up at Soarynn who does her best to keep a neutral expression, "Caspian made you a card too," she says, bending down to pick Caspian up. He's less interested in being on their bed, mostly because he loves his own big boy bed but he does hold out his card to Coriolanus who gingerly takes it.

The front of the yellow card is blank but when Coriolanus opens it he sees a large drawing of Lenny the lion. "Ah, Lenny, what a realistic portrait of him Cas," Coriolanus says, ruffling Caspian's blonde hair. Caspian smiles proudly, "Lenny go roar!"

Soarynn and Coriolanus chuckle at Caspian's demonstration of how a lion sounds, "I didn't make you a card 'cause I was at school Daddy," Ceraphina tells him, climbing onto the bed as well, "but I thought about you the entire time," she adds sweetly, batting her lashes.

Coriolanus grins and lets out a yawn, "Thank you, darling, I already feel much better in your presence."

Soarynn looks at the small bottle in her hands, it's filled with tablets, and says that he should take one in the morning and one in the evening. Well, might as well get him started. She twists open the cap and shakes out a single pill, "Here," she holds out her hand to him, "you need to take these twice a day if you want to start feeling better."

Celeste takes the pill out of Soarynn's hand, inspecting it, "Why do you need medicine, Daddy?" Coriolanus takes it from her and throws it into his mouth, dry swallowing it, "So I can feel better by tomorrow," he answers. Soarynn rolls her eyes and sets the bottle on the bedside table, "I highly doubt you'll be feeling better by tomorrow," she argues, taking Caspian into her arms when he tugs on her dress.

The girls snuggle with Coriolanus a little longer until he starts getting sleepy again, "Let's give your father some time to rest," she says softly, "you can see him again before bedtime."

The girls seem hesitant to leave their father in this sick state but he gives them a tired smile, "I'll be okay," he promises, "be good to your mother."

The girls slip out of the bed and follow Soarynn out of the room, only glancing back once at Coriolanus who's already fallen asleep. "Is Daddy gonna stop talking like Mommy did?" Celeste asks, grabbing at Soarynn's hand. Soarynn gently squeezes her little hand, "No sweetheart, he's going to be just fine."

They spend the rest of their afternoon coloring and helping Cerpahina with her homework. Math is something Coriolanus usually helps out with when he has time but Soarynn manages to get through it without wanting to rip her hair out.

Coriolanus will feel better soon and then he can deal with math homework. That's something she holds onto like a lifeline.

꧁ ꧂

Soarynn lets the water run over her face and down her body, rinsing off the day.

Coriolanus would normally join her but he's so big and if he were to fall, she wouldn't be able to pick him up. Which is why he's in the bathtub, sulking. Soarynn peers through the glass walls and giggles when she sees him sitting in the tub, arms crossed with a scowl on his face. "Enjoy yourself in there," he grumbles when he catches her, "without me."

Soarynn shakes her head, men are such babies.

She turns off the shower and opens the door, shivering at the cold air but she's quick to climb into the tub with him. His change in demeanor is remarkable. He goes from sulking to smiling like a schoolboy, immediately grabbing her and pulling her into his lap, settling her legs between his own.

"You're very high maintenance, you know that?" She asks, leaning her head against his chest when he grunts in agreement, "There's one in every relationship darling," he sighs which turns into a sneeze.

Soarynn doesn't hesitate to turn and wipe his nose with her hand, causing him to make a twisted face, "What?" She asks with a smile, he acts as if she helped him go to the bathroom instead of just wiping his nose.

"Nothing," he shrugs, "just, Livia never took care of me like this, wiping my snot with her bare hands and all that. It's just nice to be taken care of."

Soarynn smiles, settling back into his chest, "Well you always take care of me," she points out, "and if I can swallow your cum then I can wipe away your snot."

Coriolanus gives her a squeeze and she feels him kiss the back of her head, "Thank you, darling, I truly don't deserve you."

Soarynn often feels the same way about him, often wondering if this is all some big joke, if one day he'll ask for his ring back. But he hasn't, and she doesn't think this is a joke.

"You deserve someone to love you," she tells him softly, "in sickness and in health, remember?"

Coriolanus hums, remembering the vows they said in front of all of Panem as their witness. He certainly has kept up his side of the vows, loving her despite her inability to give him more children.

Soarynn lifts her feet out of the water and rests her toes on the edge of the tub, she has to stretch a bit to reach but it feels nice to prop her feet up. Coriolanus mirrors her and does the same, resting his feet on top of hers with ease, no stretching needed. This entire bathroom was made for a man like him, tall and big.

Soarynn giggles when he wiggles his toes, admiring her red nail polish. She usually does a light pink or white but she went with red for the holidays and has yet to take it off. And Coriolanus loves it when she wears anything red so that's a nice bonus.

"Hmm, well maybe I'll get you sick," he teases, "and then I'll be the one taking care of you." Soarynn shakes her head, he's always been so competitive, even in sickness apparently, "I thought you were on your deathbed," she reminds him, "dead people can't get other people sick."

Coriolanus sighs, kissing her shoulder, "Well, I'm very special," he tells her, "and apparently white as a sheet according to Celeste."

Soarynn laughs when she remembers him seeing the card for the first time, "She was so proud of it," she tells him through tears, "and in her defense, you do look very pale when you're sick."

Coriolanus squeezes her waist, "And what crayon does she use for you then?"

Soarynn slyly glances up at him, a grin already on her lips, "The peach-colored crayon, you know, for my beautiful tan skin." Coriolanus is the one rolling his eyes now but she's not lying, Coriolanus literally pales compared to Soarynn's tan complexion.

"Not a bad way to end your day though," she points out, "in the bath. With me."

Most nights Soarynn bathes or showers alone while Coriolanus is still working. This is a treat as special as any.

"No," he murmurs, nuzzling her neck, "not a bad sick day at all."

| tumblr oneshot/drabble |

| taglist: @strawberriicakes @wonderlandbound111 @villiansarehottest @kickmybark @thevoicesinmyprettylittlehead @melodyoflovee @erensrealgf |

[unacknowledgeable]

SK!Reader x Yan!Batfam: Not in the plan

I have thoughts about the batfam going yandere before finding out about Reader being a serial killer.

Because if the fam go yandere before finding out, this gives them time to formulate their own perceptions of the reader, based on their limited knowledge of them and a lot of wistful thinking, so there's now an illusion built that can be shattered. 

It’d definitely be a slower roll into being yanderes, because they view the Reader as a full civilian and obviously don’t want to scare them off. They only really have the media's view of the Reader, and Alfred's view to make assumptions off of, which both are pretty biased tbh.

 They end up forming this version of Reader that is quiet but charming, social but reserved, irritable but kind, meek but shrewd, etc etc.

So they start off slowly, with little things, like Tim bumping into them on the street then offering to buy coffee, running into Steph while buying groceries, Jason waving at them from across a clubs dance floor, Bruce cutting in during their chat with Gordon at a Gala, getting “leftovers” from Barbara whenever she brings her dad lunch at the station, being asked for your math notes by Duke, Cass having Alfred give you tickets to her dance recitals, Damian entering rooms you’re in without making a snide comment, Dick inviting you to family game night–

The list of tiny ways they try to insert themselves is endless and every new acknowledgement from the family leaves the Reader fucking terrified.

Reader stares, bug eyed, at Tim for his offer, falls into a shelf at Steph's excited hello, downs a shot before running to the the club's bathroom to climb out the window when Jason tries to approach your seat at the bar, tripping a waiter to distract Bruce while you ditched the Gala, nearly back handing Barbara because you were listening to music and you didn't hear her come in, asking Duke ‘what math notes?’ ...while studying said notes, saying ‘no, you couldn't make the recital because you had to water a friends dog that day’ before quickly leaving the kitchen, throwing a book at Damian when he moved to close because the only times he’s ever been this quiet around you is when you're inevitably stabbed, or flinching so hard when Dick reaches out a hand to clap your shoulder, he thinks he somehow actually hurt you and the look of fear in your eyes gives off such a startling sense of deja vu, it leaves him despondent for the rest of the week.

 So now the batfam are thinking “Why the fuck are they panicking so much? oh god did we seriously fuck up so badly they're afraid of us?!?!?! DD: Why are they so uneasy??? It can’t just be because they’re estranged from them. Can it??” And now they're getting increasingly desperate to fix this because this wasn't supposed to be so difficult, but now it is and that's making it more intriguing and thus higher on the family’s list of priorities. 

Meanwhile… from the start, the Reader is just-

Because despite outward appearances, Reader is constantly paranoid as fuck. We’re talking Batman levels of paranoia. Hard not to be when he’s literally your dad. You have contingencies for your contingencies, escape routes by the dozen out of the city and out of this mortal plane itself, if needed. You had plans for every conceivable possibility, just not for this. 

You're now met with such a glaringly obvious flaw in how you go about life in general, the way you live and how you operate as a serial killer, it all hinges on the idea of the family never turning their attention your way. It wasn't even an option and now it’s happening and you had no idea how to function because this isn't normal at all. Now you're actually forced to put in more than 25% of brain power to bury any possible leads and dissuade any possible connections to yourself and the silent terror on Gotham, while also trying to figure out what the hell happened.

Safe to say, this cat and mouse game is no longer fun for you.

I'm meltingggg. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed, I'm going to bed bleh

X-X

Masterlist

[streetslost]

       CAT FORCED HERSELF TO STAY SILENT. to not just pick up the nearest item and chuck it at angel's head. the brunette wasn't exactly known for social grace, and the ability to be reassuring, encouraging, easing... any of that was far from her strengths. being met against angel's stubbornness wall was GRATING to the patience, but despite her frustrations, cat wasn't so foolish as to believe her desire for a physical retaliation would do any good. in fact, it could do the opposite; why would old friend want to trust someone who could turn violent in a heartbeat.

                    it wasn't personal, it was just difficult. learning how to deal with people didn't happen overnight, and now that she was in the position she was, cat was forced to keep hold of her tongue. to be g o o d, else the eyes of scrutiny would have her hauled off to jail for poor behavior. she toed the line more than she ought to, so the flexibility she had been given despite her probation was more than she really had earned. perhaps she took far too much advantage of it, and one day that would most likely be her downfall were she not careful.

      so she gritted her teeth behind pressed lips, tension quivering her cheeks as she inhaled as slow as she could manage. reel in the heartbeat, reel in the thoughts. thoughts that bang bang banged about like a drum that some little kid had found. incessant, unrelenting. and terribly, terribly bad at playing to boot...

                        "doing great or doing better?" fire in her tone, fingers curling around her forearms as she crossed them before her. give her something to grip, to hold, to divert their intentions away from any other prospect.

       perhaps, she recognized in that moment, was not she was angry with angel. not a n n o y e d. it was fear. hearing words aloud that spoke to her own heart, her own raging emotions. in a different way; a different life. scott's immediate and extended family were not about to run out of money any time soon, there would be no getting rid of her over anything in relation to finances.

                 but there were some burdens money couldn't alleviate. her personality was a shining example of battles people couldn't always arm themselves for. the world around her now couldn't quite grasp her most days. the former thief boiled too hot, spilled over, then turned frozen in an instant. was BOLD and brash one moment, then a defiant wall of refusal the next. refusing to talk, refusing to open up. a jarring creature when standing next to the ones that took her in. warmth and compassion and pleasantness were lacking. her only use was the media's frothing interest that something would go wrong soon... and maybe that wrong was her. they could all be sick of her at any moment and choose her to be gone or to be behind bars. it would only take a phone call most likely. no more, no less.

         reminded that she still didn't feel human most days.

                  "i know wha' you mean," acceptance flood her voice to tiredness. "the idea of... any day y'wake up and everything you finally had is jus' gone. taken from you. left with nothing but the reminder tha' once again, you're shit."

        her gaze went distant, hands shook mildly as she realized she had released her clenching, unfolding her body, and was looking for something to idle them. she probably should be helping back in the kitchen... "but yet here i am, i guess. y'know... maybe it was different for you but. something i've thought about recently. all those times i thought i was safe and FINE and home... other people had set it all up for me. given me the space, the opportunity, and ultimately really left me no choice. good or bad. it was their making. but this time... this time, it was my choice. sure, they gave me the opportunity... but i had t'be the one to take it. somehow, an' i don't know how to explain it... i think tha' means something."

And that was the million dollar question, wasn’t it?

"Maybe I don’t know their limit.”

The blonde paused to let her tongue moisten dry lips, picking her words carefully as she did so.

“But I don’t think they know it, either. They could have taken me in with all the best intentions in the world… but those intentions don’t mean a thing if it turns out they can’t manage a fifth child after all.”

Never mind that she was hardly a child, so close to crossing the boundary of adulthood in her own right… Angel was sure she had enough issues of her own that adopting another young kid, and all the struggles that entailed, would be an easy prospect for anyone compared to dealing with her day in, day out. Even Tenderfoot had hardly seen the full extent of her internal struggles, the old self-loathings - though those had thankfully been quiet in recent weeks without Buster to stir them up - and fears of abandonment that gnawed at her very heart at any chance they got. She wouldn’t be able to settle easily to a home life.

Even if she was taken in, Angel was sure that the road to her actually feeling accepted would be a longer one than any family would have the patience to tread.

She shook her head. “And when the expenses mount up, and they realise they can’t support everyone, who’s going to be the first to go? You can bet it won’t be the kids they’ve raised since birth.”

Nor would she want it to be: she’d fought too hard for Tenderfoot to appreciate what he had to ever want to strip him or his sisters of it. That wouldn’t make it any easier to take when she was, almost inevitably, shown the door. It always happened; no sooner had she been taken in, got comfortable, finally dared to hope, than it was snatched from under her nose…

She stared off into the distance, not really seeing anything.

“You’re right, I could take a no. What I couldn’t take is a yes that they have to take back in a few months… just like everyone else has.”

That was what she was afraid of, that was the chance that she couldn’t bear to take. In that moment Angel couldn’t remember how much she’d told Cat about her past adoptions, if much at all; but those memories, of open arms that eventually turned hostile… how could she possibly believe that everyone wasn’t like that? When something happened five times, that was far too many to dismiss it as a one-off.

She forced herself back to the present, a small smile back to her lips.

“Besides, all I really needed was getting Buster out of my hair. I’m doing great now, I promise.”

It wasn’t quite a lie… but great was very definitely a relative term.

[collectors-tablet]

Would the Archivists consider releasing the Maine Coon to roam around the archive?

Not a lot for a cat to eat here, anyways.

[Part 4]

[thedreadvampy]

legitimately insane how to some people, "we should wipe out this ethnic group that we've violently constrained to a ghetto because they're just genetically more violent and dangerous" is a reasonable and justifiable statement but it's Nazi Rhetoric to say something like, "it's bad that Israeli civilians are being killed but acknowledging that as tragic includes acknowledging that the almost daily state-sanctioned murder of civilians by the Israeli government is also tragic and unacceptable"

btw guys speaking of Nazi shit - can we check in, alongside what's been done to Palestinians in the last 75 years, what's the Israeli government's take on the Azerbaijani government's newest round of ethnic cleansing of Armenians? oh are the Israeli government's actions maybe not determined by Jewish identity, but by a commitment to colonial supremacy which puts them on the same page as other violently genocidal states like Azerbaijan, the US, and the UK? god can you Even Imagine?

(framing speaking against Israeli war crimes as inherently antisemitic requires understanding the Israeli state as representing all Jewish people, when it doesn't even represent all Israelis.

framing Israeli war crimes as synonymous with Jewish identity is pretty fucked up if we're being honest. I don't think that controlling water and power and movement for a captive population and shooting children dead for throwing stones is an inherent value of Judaism, any more than I think the torture carried out at Guantanamo Bay is an inherent value of Christianity - in both cases they're atrocities carried out by a far right genocidal government using religious identity as a shield.

Calling statements like "Israel is committing genocide against the people it's displaced" inherently antisemitic is doing more to further the idea that all Jewish people are associated with Israel than saying "the Israeli government is doing war crimes," which is a statement of fact about a country that exists and does war crimes. Is criticism of Israel as a nation often used as cover for antisemitism? Absolutely. Does that mean the Israeli government isn't doing literal war crimes repeatedly, on record, while talking publicly about scrubbing an ethnic group off the map? Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh well in the last 48 hours they've definitely cut off water and power to almost 600,000 civilians and allegedly used white phosphorus against civilians so in an extremely factual and unambiguous way yeah man those are Literal War Crimes whoever does them.)

[fridayyy-13th]

i am feeling So Many Things at the moment but mostly i just feel like a disaster

[dmitriene]

skincare with blue collar simon riley, you know that if you hadn't noticed, he wouldn't have said a word, just as he wouldn't have seen it himself, but you're lucky enough to notice the clogged, almost darkened pores on his face and gradually forming pimples, as well as blemishes from the old ones because of all the dirt that gets on his face.

all his skincare is water, not even a bar of soap, and not only was his skin quite sensitive before, his work did not leave him a chance for self care at all, unlike you, with a good set of jars to moisturize and keep the skin in order, in case something goes wrong, and you needed them, your hands fully armed, as soon as simon got home.

you dragged him into the bathroom almost from the doorstep, forcing him to throw off his work uniform and climb into the already prepared, warm bath with fragrant foam, which you prepared a couple of minutes before his arrival, since simon has a habit of texting you once he gets on his way back home, and he will not refuse a few minutes of rest in the bath, especially when his darling drags him there.

of course, it takes more time, wiping off the excess dirt from his rough skin, which has crept under both his clothes and nails, relaxing simon by rubbing the washcloth against him in a circular motion, over his tense, broad shoulders, down his wide, meaty biceps, to the scarred chest, padded with a good layer of fat, his pale eyelashes quivering, tired eyes closed, letting you do your thing, especially when you get to work on his hair.

unkempt, locks outgrown and sticking from side to side haphazardly, a little coarse under your fingers as you rake your nails up and down his nape, wetting the top of his head before squeezing a couple of drops of shampoo into the palm of your hand, starting to wash his hair, pressing your fingers into his scalp, causing simon to make sounds almost similar to the loud purrs of a loving cat, tilting his neck back.

taking care of his face passes without any complaints, he obediently puts his face on your palms, practically burying his nose in them, enjoying a couple of warm kisses with an almost sleepy smile, all while you apply facial foam to his skin, stroking and then washing away with wet palms, cleansing his face before gently sticking black pore strips on his nose, warning that the removal process can be unpleasant.

simon doesn't care as long as you do it, pampering him after a hard day of work, continuing to massage his neck and then shoulders while waiting couple of minutes before you'll need to remove the strips away, maybe then you will join him, and he will definitely take care of you too, for example, cook dinner while you rest, tucked in the warm bed.

after being spread on his fat, girthy cock, clutched tight inside your pulsing walls, your moans breathy and silenced by the needy, insatiable kisses, each one biting and messy against your lips, as you hiccup, the thick tip of his head rutting in the same spot over and over, making you gush and claw at simon's wrists weakly, his hands busy palming at your breasts with pleased hums.

main masterlist. quidelines.

[yandere-daydreams]

tw - non/con, manipulation, mentions of breeding, and unbalanced power dynamics.

Snow Leopard!Satoru, who's ecstatic the day his owner, Suguru, brings you home. He's the pinnacle of a spoiled pet, constantly showered in toys and treats and affection, but his owner's a busy man, and he tends to sulk when left home alone. He's had other companions before, another leopard hybrid who nearly killed him before being released back into the wild and a black panther who somehow proved to be a worse influence on Satoru than Satoru was on her, but you're supposed to be more permanent solution, another hosuepet to keep him company when Suguru can't. You're a sweet little housecat, all wide-eyes and raised ears, but still, Suguru wouldn't be surprised if you're begging to go back to the shelter less than an hour after meeting your new roommate.

Snow Leopard!Satoru, who falls in love with you immediately. Suguru practically has to keep him in a chokehold while you explore your new home, eventually curling up on your new bed. Satoru's on top of you as soon as he gets loose, purring obnoxiously while he runs his bristled tongue over your cheek. Suguru's half-convinced that your first day's going to end with bloody claws and bandages, but you only nuzzle into his chest and knead at the blankets underneath you. Satoru's a difficult cat to put up with, and Suguru's relieved that you, at least, find him tolerable.

Snow Leopard!Satoru, who's absolutely massive compared to you. The tips of your pointed ears barely reach his collarbones, and your wrist is only as thick as his fluffy tail. His favorite hobby quickly becomes carrying you from room to room despite your softly mewled protests, and he's not happy unless he's pressed against you as closely as possible. He used to force himself into Suguru's lap whenever possible, but now, he's unbearable unless you're sitting pretty in his. He doesn't even complain when you lose your temper and dig your little fangs (barely half the size of his - a poor imitation of a real predator's) into his arm, just grinning as he tugs at your ears and pinches your cheeks. He's not exactly a wild animal, but he's still at the top of his food chain. You're not quite a mouse, but you might as well be, compared to him.

Snow Leopard!Satoru, who's calling you his mate after less than a full month. You don't know what it means, often parroting it back as more of a question than a term of endearment, and Suguru just brushes it off as Satoru being deliberately irritating. He keeps it up, though. even after you start refusing to respond to it.

Snow Leopard!Satoru, who starts introducing you to new "games". You know you don't stand a chance against him, but somehow, he always manages to goad you into roughhousing, into squirming as he pins you under his full weight. He likes to dangle things above your head, to see how long it takes your instincts to get the best of you before your chest is pressed against his and you're pouting so adorably as you jump and bat at his hand. Sometimes, when you fall asleep mid-grooming session, he'll let his mouth wander lower than it should, and you'll wake up to his tongue lapping over your chest, his face buried between your thighs in a way that leaves you teary-eyed and warm. You've tried to tell Suguru, but you always get embarrassed and end up mumbling something as vague as 'Satoru's being mean to me, again.' In the end, Satoru only ever gets a slap on the wrist and a new reason to tease you, next time Suguru turns his back.

Snow Leopard!Satoru, who fucks you whenever Suguru isn't home. He planned on waiting for your first heat (delayed by your shelter suppressants and the stress of a new home), and he knows he's not supposed to, but he just can't get enough of having your smaller body curled up underneath his, your tail thrashing from side to side as he lazily rolls his hips against yours. You tend to whine, at first, to go on and on about how weird it feels and how much it hurts, but as soon he gets his cock inside of you, all those complaints tend to go away. It's almost funny, how easily your stupid little kitty mind gets all hazy and cockdrunk. He always loves you, but he loves you most when you're drooling and purring for his cum, begging him to breed you properly between hitched moans.

Snow Leopard!Satoru, who's not even mad when Suguru catches him bouncing your half-conscious, fucked-out body on his cock. He wants to be the best possible mate for you, and he couldn't do that if he wasn't willing to show you off <3

[teaboot]

I've never had a cat before and I'm hoping to get one soon. Do you have any advice?

Treat a new cat as you would a new roommate. Give them space and time to settle, establish a pattern and a rhythm, and in time they may choose to become friends and spend time with you. Dont force a friendship.

Use simple words and repetition to establish communication. Words like breakfast, treat, snack, lunch, supper, dinner, food, and eat all basically mean, "I am feeding you; expect to be fed", but it's a lot for a little guy to remember. I just say "Dinner" when I mean "cat food is coming", and so my boy knows exactly what I mean when I say it. As a plus, using only one word for snack time means he has no idea what the other words mean, so I can talk about food in front of him without ruling him up.

Pay attention to body language. Cats all have different personalities, and you'll learn their likes, dislikes, and messages over time this way. Son boy here loves anything with plumbing but dislikes getting wet- his favourite blanket to chew and snuggle goes on his favourite chair, and he gives me a specific gesture when he wants me to kneel down so he can jump onto my shoulder.

Read into problematic behaviour. Cats pee in weird places when they're hurting, in distress, or have insufficient of unclean litter box space. Biting, attacking feet , and knocking things off tables often means they're understimulated and need you to play with them, or at least need some kind of enrichment or puzzle to tackle. Tail flicking can be frustration or irritation. Purring is usually good, but may also be self-soothing behaviour to alleviate pain, encourage healing, and relieve anxiety, like over-grooming.

Like children, "bad" behaviour isn't malicious- it usually means there's something you aren't seeing.

Learn how your cat expresses love. Loads of people think cats are uncaring, cruel, and indifferent, but the truth is, they're just not dogs. Spending time near you, showing an interest in tools you're using or projects you're working on, sitting the way you sit, laying on their back, rubbing on your legs, wiping their face on your shoes when you get home- these are signs that your cat is enamored with you. You're their family, they feel safe and protected around you, they're curious about things you enjoy and want everyone to know you're family.

Set reasonable expectations. Again, cats are not dogs.We bred dogs to desire our approval- cats walked into our lives themselves. They have no human-programmed need to fulfill a duty or perform a task to your standards.

Training cats to do tricks isn't as hard as people say, but the willingness or interest in doing the trick is more heavily reliant on personality and mood. Some cats will refuse all but the most basic requests- I'm lucky in that Ollie understands and is willing to do several, provided I don't abuse his trust and he's not crowded or overwhelmed or just bored of doing it over and over in a short period.

Ollie, for example, knows Up to stand on his back legs and hold my hand, Down to get to a surface I indicate, Out to emerge from a closed space, Come to find me where I am, Help? when I'm offering to let him use me as an elevator, Dinner when I understand he's hungry and am getting food, and when I put on his collar he knows to climb into his carrier 'cause we're going somewhere. And he'll do any of these about 90% of the time, either ignoring me or phoning it in when there's something interesting somewhere else, or if he's feeling anxious.

Lead by example. If you dread taking them to the vet, they'll see the anxiety in your body language and behaviour and likely learn to hate it, too. Again using my guy an example, I starred taking him on walks long before his first vet appointment, just to get used to his carrier and leash. Then his first checkup was relaxed and informal, with plenty of treats, and I let him explore the examination room with permission from the tech. Now he loves going, so I'm not stressed about taking him, so I don't stress him out in turn, and the vest doesn't have to deal with a stressed out cat slowing things down and fighting with them.

Make sure your sources are good ones, and also good ones for you. I will recommend Jackson Galaxy's YouTube channel for cat advice because a lot of what he does matches up with what I've learned and know to be true. I don't personally recommend Ceasar Milan because I personally find his methods distressing to recreate regardless of efficacy, so even if that advice was useful, *I'd* be miserable, and it'd just be trading one issue for another.

Have a person who can help. You never know when you might end up out of town overnight unexpectedly, or when your place may need serviced or fumigated, or if you may be called out of town. Before getting a cat, research reliable pet sitters, house sitters, pet daycares, whatever, just in case.

Consider pet insurance. No long spiel here, just think about it. Especially if you don't know your cats ancestry or potenyial health risks. An on top of that, fucking vaccinate them.

Dont let them free roam. At all.

I grew up on a farm with free-roaming barn cats. Do you know how many times child-me cried over having to bury them? Illness, disease, pregnancy, vehicles, other territorial cats, ticks, fleas, litter, poisoned prey, malicious humans, local wildlife, predatory birds, scrap metal, extreme heat, freezing temperatures, tainted water sources, poisonous or venomous critters, getting stuck in small or high places, tapeworms, loose nails, old equipment, falling branches...

I've seen some truly body-horror slasher-movie shit- just truly nauseating visual fuckery- and I'm telling you not to let your cat free-roam.

Leash training isn't hard. Supervised walks aren't hard. Even keeping your cat physically fit and entertained indoors isn't an impossible feat. Don't let your fucking cat fucking free-roam. Fuck

Also read up on foods and plants cats can't do, like every houseplant in existence is toxic it's insane

Anyhow yeah that's like. A couple things I guess

Here, have an Ollie Pic

[hannieehaee]

18+ / mdi

content: newbf!vernon, based off this quote, appearance from some svt members, afab reader, smut(?), suggestive, etc.

wc: 1848

a/n: this is such an odd premise but it caught my attention so yeah<3

masterlist

"i dont get the joke," seungkwan cocked his head to the side in a questioning manner.

"yeah, april fool's was last month?," added joshua.

"there's no joke. we're dating."

even as you and vernon found yourselves cuddled up on the couch, – in a manner only a couple would intertwine with each other – your friends seemed unimpressed by the mere suggestion of the two of you dating.

"so you've been besties for twelve years and suddenly you're dating? no warning, no nothing? not very believable", answered mingyu, staring at you in nothing short of annoyance.

"why is this so surprising? you guys knew that i had a crush on her," argued vernon, feeling a bit annoyed at the way all his friends were currently staring him down. meanwhile, you appeared to be completely chill as you nuzzled into his side, watching videos on his phone and ignoring the conversation altogether.

"i just don't buy it."

"yeah, i don't get the joke, but i'm not falling for it."

"she's out of your league anyway."

seungkwan, seungcheol and jeonghan all expressed their sentiments to vernon as he groaned in frustration, unable to understand why it was so difficult to accept that he had finally grown the balls to ask you out. alas, he gave up as his friends grew distracted by something else, opting to go back to watching cat videos with you on his phone.

this was a brand new change in your dynamic, so maybe it'd be hard to grasp at first. but it was fine. vernon didn't need his friends to acknowledge his relationship in order to make it real. he'd simply continue to love on you like he'd been doing since you accepted to be his girlfriend, damning any denials from his friends.

~

acting unaffected by his friends' constant refutals of his new relationship proved to be harder than vernon had first anticipated. they'd gone above and beyond to attempt and disprove your relationship, claiming that it simply didn't make any sense.

any time you posted a picture with vernon it'd get spammed with comments from all twelve boys declaring the falsehood of your relationship.

jeonghanieyoon: booo 🍅

joshuacoustic: drop the fake bf and date me instead 😘

dk_is_dokyeom: ok u guys are starting to look believable 🧐

sometimes they'd even respond to vernon's stories about you and slide in his dms just to call him a dumbass for attempting to make this 'a thing' when it was clear you two were lying.

from: pledisboos - stop being a coward and ask her out for real

from: feat.dino - clearly fake. try harder next time!

in retrospect, maybe vernon only had himself to blame for this. after years of liking you, he never once gave any indication of attempting to leave the friendzone. his friends had all given up on hyping him up to confess to you years ago, leaving his crush as a dormant subject of conversation. it was quite sudden how you and vernon ended up together, and your dynamic hadnt changed too much, so your upgrade from friends to lovers was likely not noticeable to the naked eye.

however, this did not excuse the damned booing vernon had to endure any time the two of you walked into a room hand-in-hand. it also did not excuse jeonghan and mingyu's continuous flirting with you – they were doing it to prove a point, they said. and the most frustrating aspect of it all was how nonchalant you were about it all, always giggling along with his friends and never backing vernon up when he'd try and argue with them.

this was quite out of character for vernon. his demeanor had always been extremely chill and laid back, never one to be bothered by any outside forces (much less his dumb friends). you, however, were not helping manners in any way. you found the whole situation funny, telling vernon not to stress over it as you giggled over how passionate both vernon and his friends were about such a benign subject.

so, vernon gave up. he guessed that since you found the running gag about your 'fake' relationship amusing rather than frustrating (as he did), then he would just leave it alone. he was never one for pda anyways, so attempting to prove his relationship to his friends was kind of like beating a dead horse.

what vernon forgot to consider, however, was how nosy his friends were.

when it was time for all fourteen of you to spend the week at mingyu's beach house, he had let his guard down far too much, leading to a situation he'd like to consider both a win and a loss.

despite the sheer size of the beach house, housing fourteen people proved to be quite a difficult task, meaning that roommates were a must. with six rooms, everyone was separated into twos, with two rooms containing one extra roommate each. you and vernon always paired up together with no questions asked, except this time you were teased and mocked as you settled into your rooms, all while they assigned you chan as an extra roommate with the sarcastic intent of him keeping an eye on the two of you – "just want to make sure you don't get down to any funny business," had sad dokyeom in a mocking tone.

it was quite common for everyone but vernon to go out and play some badminton or basketball during these types of outings. he just wasnt a sports guy, and he was well loved despite his lack of participation. you'd occasionally join the guys, but would mostly hang back with vernon, which was what happened this time around. usually, you'd simply lounge around and watch a movie, but now that you were finally together, vernon decided to make better use of your alone time.

"are you sure we should be doing this?", you pulled away with a heavy breath, tilting your head back so vernon's lips could trail down your neck.

"it's fine, baby. they're all busy. they don't even believe we're dating, so they probably just think we're watching a movie," he explained as his hands attempted to get you to sit on his lap.

you didn't seem to need convincing as you slid over onto his lap, allowing his hands to guide your hips against his own. even through the pajamas you were wearing, he was sure you could feel his hardness under you.

"fuck, you're so fucking warm," he murmured as his hands went under your shirt, feeling up your warm skin and throwing it off in the process.

his lips went back to yours, groaning against you as your hips sped up against his own. easily frustrated, he laid you down, bringing down his pants and boxers to his mid thigh and leaving you in just your panties, adjusting his hardness so it'd grind itself perfectly against your clothed folds. the wetness seeping from your panties drove him insane with desire, but he couldn't stop grinding into you, growing easily obsessed with the stimulation. his lips had made their way back to your own, groaning endlessly against them while your hands pulled at his hair in a way that made his eyes cross.

"hmm, nonnie ..." you'd murmur every so often, making his resolve break little by little.

"fuck, is this okay, baby? just- wanna make you cum like this. i'll fuck you, i promise. just feel so fucking good like this," he groaned as you licked into his mouth, refusing to entertain any amount of separation.

eventually he reached down to your tits, tonguing at them like a starved man in search of his next meal. he was shameless in his desire for you, having wanted you for far too long and finally having you all to himself. no other thought occupied his mind at the moment. the touch and sight of your pretty body under his own was all his brain had the capacity of entertaining.

which was how neither of you noticed the boy suddenly intruding the scene, screaming in absolute shock at the nasty sight in front of him.

"oh my god?! you weren't lying?!"

what was even more unfortunate was how chan's yelling immediately alerted the rest of the members (or at least the nosier ones), leading to the door being filled by about seven spectators within seconds.

the only fortunate thing about the situation had been how fast vernon's protective instincts over you took over, covering you up with a blanket the moment he saw chan enter the room, preventing all the nosy men from having a peek at the nudity only vernon was allowed to see (and apparently chan too, as vernon had not noticed his presence until after the fact).

however, even as he covered you up, he left himself completely bare, having to take on all their shocked commentary whilst fully nude, barely able to pull up his boxers a few moments into their intrusion.

"no way, you're actually dating?!"

"either that or they took this joke a little far ..."

"man, channie's gonna be jacking off to this for ages."

"how the fuck did you score her??"

"do you guys want a third?"

these were only a few of the comments thrown at you and vernon within the first twenty seconds of the guys' presence in your room. however, to vernon it felt like a whole hour of scrutiny before he finally shook the shock off and began yelling at them to leave.

"get the fuck out! and never look at my girlfriend again!", he got up and began pushing them out as a few of them giggled at his anger whilst some others remained in shock at the situation.

in the meantime, you had pulled up the blanket over your head as you sat crisscross on the bed, likely too bashful to face the situation until your friends took their leave.

once vernon closed and locked the door, grabbing a pillow and throwing it outside for chan (who would not be allowed back in, by the way), vernon sped to your side, uncovering you, fully worried that you might be mad or petrified at what had just happened. to his surprise, you began laughing the moment you first made eye contact, causing vernon to furrow his eyebrows in question.

"baby, what the fuck? you find this funny?", he wasn't mad, but more so extremely confused.

"you got want you wanted, nonnie. there's no way to deny we're dating now," you grinned, crawling to sit on his lap again.

"god, i take it back. i'll never be able to fuck you again in peace. i was just about to cum, too."

"'was'?", you asked, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and leaning in closer, "you don't wanna anymore?", you tilted your head in fake curiosity.

"i mean-"

"they already know we're fucking. might as well have fun with it. right, nonnie?", you grinned.

chuckling at you, he couldn't help but agree with your horny logic. his boner was still half-there anyways.

"c'mere, baby."

[pearlymel]

My lady—

Synopsis. Sometimes zayne thinks of you as his owner, well, as a cat at least.

Warnings. NSFW, no plot, fem reader, kinda subby zayne, oral (f and m receiving.) 1.6k words.

Notes. A little something to get ready for the upcoming bang bang cards. Also happy holiday's and new year!!

"Well aren't you being a good butler kitty for me?" You grin, enjoying every bit of this. It was rare to see Zayne like this or for him to act this way.

"I aim to please." And you shudder at his words, his other hand smoothly glides up from your ankle to your calf, the fabric of your dress riding up, up...

For a moment he's silent, content to take in the view while gently caressing your leg. But he can only be patient for so long. "Come here." he murmurs, hand tightening around your ankle once again.

Such a demanding cat, he's satisfied only once you're sitting right on the edge of the armrest, his body pressed in between your legs. By still holding your ankle, he pushes, encouraging you to rest your calf on his shoulder and to wrap the other leg around him. One of his hands rests on the armrest to support his weight, while the free hand traces a light path down your bared inner-thigh.

"I'll be whatever you want me to be," he murmurs. "Your butler, your pet, your— "

He cuts himself off, swallows hard. Careful. He doesn't want to scare you off with the intensity of his feelings. Instead he settles for a simple, "Your Zayne.”

“ah… you're a bold kitty too.” You half chuckle when he starts nuzzling his nose into the bend of your knee, "you smell good." Literally drunk on your scent.

The hand on your thigh moves higher, pushing your dress up further and you instinctively tug at his hair, “hey—”

Zayne lets out a groan when the hand in his hair grips tighter, "Pull harder, my lady."

“i don't want to hurt you.”

"You won't."

He nips at the skin of your inner thighs just a bit harder, licking the spot when your hand jerks in his hair again.

Zayne nuzzles against your clothed pussy, his nose brushing and bumping through the cloth. Another inhale, another low, rumbling sound of contentment.

You grit through your teeth, this was enough to actually turn you on and make the fabric a little damp from your arousal.. How embarrassing.

His fingers hook in the band of your panties, this time pulling harder. The sound of tearing fabric fills the room, and you gasp. The rest of them parting easily under his hands.

“Zayne—!” he doesn't give you a chance to react before he's leaning in and dragging the flat of his tongue along your slit. He starts slow, licking and sucking at your clit before teasing your hole with the tip of his tongue. His hands smoothly slide up your thighs, fingers digging in slightly as he holds you open for his ministrations.

Zayne loves it when you tug at his hair. He loves to tease you with his mouth, but he also loves this, the reaction.

The little twinges of pleasure-pain, the gentle scratches over his scalp and ears. The feel of your thighs, trembling just barely against his ears.

He can tell you're struggling. You're holding your breath to keep quiet, your squinting unfocused eyes. His head turns, his lips brushing against the inside of your thigh to let his tongue curl over your skin in a soft swipe.

He wants to hear you, but he won't force you—not when you're so sweetly silent for him, "breathe, sweetheart.”

One glance down at him, and you part your lips to ‘breathe’ only for it to come out as a whine when he slides his middle finger in, slipping into your cunt easily.

His free hand slides under your knee when you start squirming, holding it up to keep you still, "don't move.” a whisper before he presses in further, curling inside your deepest most sensitive repeatedly that you forget you were supposed to be in ‘control’.

Not like this, a moaning, whining mess from one finger and his lips closing around your bundle of nerves. You don't even notice it happening next, when you're almost crying as you suddenly cum—

“Mmh, Zayne i can't—can't—” and you're gushing out embarrassingly fast, eyes rolling back with the back of your hand covering your quivering mouth.

Meanwhile Zayne was lapping and slurping on your release without hesitation to help you ride out from your high. Only when your tremors subside does he pull back, licking his lips. His eyes are dark, pupils blown, face flushed, hair messed up and lips swollen.

“Am i good enough for you, my lady?” that sweet breathless voice, one dangerous move that would bring you to your knees.

“my good boy,” you hum, cupping his cheeks while gently pulling him up with you on the couch, your hand ever so soft caressing his cheek that he blinks slowly when you peck his glistening lips.

Zayne's breath catches next when you push him down, eyes widening slightly. But he doesn't protest, doesn't try to stop you. Instead he watches as you undo his belt and zipper.

"What are you—" His words cut off with a gasp as you free his cock, wrapping your hand around the hard length. He's already leaking, the tip slick when your thumb circles it for a bit.

As much as he wants to be a gentleman, wants to put your pleasure first, he's desperate for your touch. He watches you through hooded eyes as you stroke him, hand gliding along his shaft. His breathing is ragged, chest heaving with each inhale.

“There, there,” you whisper while squeezing the base of his cock before you wrap your precious lips around the sensitive tip.

He's gone.

“M-my lady—haah—”, His head tips, his hips involuntarily jerking upward. His hands tighten on the sofa, the fabric creaking under his grip. But he doesn't do it again, and his hips fall back down onto the couch with a low moan, his chest heaving.

One hand drops from the side, brushing over your hair to comb through it as he rocks his hips slightly, just enough to slide a little deeper into your mouth. your tongue swirls around him, it feels all tight, warm, and wet at the same time.

He watches you struggle, sees your throat bulge around him. The sight is obscene, erotic, and it makes his cock throb in your mouth. He can feel your throat fluttering around his length, and it's almost too much.

He can't help it, at that point, holding back like that.

With a low groan, his whole bodyconvulses, and his back arch sharply under you. The grip on your hair tightens, but the sound he makes still manages to stay quiet; you can tell he's still holding back.

Trying to be good. For you. Even while he's practically shaking, while you can feel his body shivering against you.

He rocks his hips slightly, shallow thrusts that allow you to adjust. He doesn't want to hurt you, but he can't resist the urge to move, to feel you around him.

“My lady, i-im about to come, you can pull away if you dont like it,” he breathes out, but you decide against it, sucking harder even when tears prick at the corner of your eyes.

“A-ah, i… I—” His orgasm hits him like a freight train, back arching as he comes hard down your throat, spilling into you, pulse after pulse of hot, thick cum. “My lady, my lady—” he chants, hips jerking with each spurt.

He looks down at you, eyes hazy with post-orgasmic bliss. You look up at him, lips swollen with remnants of his release at the corner of your lips that you lick away.

“you taste almost sweet, ate too much sugar?” you tease, your voice hoarse. Yet he's still shaking, barely coherent. You can tell he likes it, by the way his mouth curves into a small, dazed smile.

Zayne is barely conscious, his words slurring together. His hand brushes your hair again, pushing it away from your face. "Come here...”

He pulls you up to curl close to his chest, the hand in your hair drawing you against him, he pulls you closer, nuzzling his face into your hair.

"My lady… " he whispers softly, “hm?” you hum back.

"my everything." The words are slurred together again, muffled in a low, half-whisper, but they're clear enough that you understand them. He draws you in closer, his arms wrapping around your torso, pressing you close to him. He doesn't care if it's too intimate or if he's being too clingy. At this point he just needs to hold you, to be close to you, and to savor your presence.

He's... so clingy now.

“is my kitty all high? Seems like I've spoiled him too much.”

"M'fine," he murmurs into your hair, lips brushing over it in a gentle caress. His head tilts forward, nestling into you like a cat seeking warmth. His hand strokes gently over your back, fingertips tracing down the curve of your spine as he presses closer to you. “it's alright, I'm here.”

He mumbles something else that gets muffled in your hair, though he's also still exhausted and coming down from the high of his orgasm, so he'll probably sleep soon, but he won't sleep until he knows that you're comfortable. He just wants you, that's all. Just having you in his arms is enough.

[slytherinslut0]

SLYTHERINSLUT0’S KINKTOBER

october 28th. theodore nott. lorenzo berkshire — humiliation / degradation

KINKTOBER MASTERLIST. | 2024.

summary: never let enzo berkshire find out about one of your kinks. unless….

warnings: 18+, SMUT MDNI, halloween ghostface costumes, threesome, fwb!theo, bestfriend!enzo, reader is involved in a bet unbeknownst to her, mask kink, humiliation on high, degradation, fingering, denied orgasm, oral m!rec, PIV, dirty talk, manipulation.

"Black cat mask?"

You shake your head, barely sparing the thing a glance.

"Mm, no. Too unoriginal."

"Right," Enzo sucks his teeth, tossing the mask back into the bin you're both half-heartedly rifling through. "Orange cat, then? That's far more fitting for you anyways."

"Enzo—no cats, please," you mutter, running a hand through your hair, staring down at the disheveled heap of plastic. None of it catches your eye, none of it sparks anything. "It's Halloween. I want something...scarier."

"Of course. Only day of the year you get to pretend you're as terrifying as me." He croons—half-laughing through the words. The tease itches in your mind, and you're halfway to some retort when he's already holding up another mask. "How about this one?"

You glance up, ready to dismiss whatever nonsense he's holding this time, but the sight of it stills the air in your lungs. A Ghostface mask. Stark white, hollow eyes staring back at you—it's grimace cast in a faded glow under tired shop lights. It's nothing—just a mask, just a piece of cheap plastic in Enzo’s hand—but your heart skips, stumbles, clutches at your ribs, and you can't look away.

And there's no goddamn reason for it, no logic—but you're already seeing it, aren't you? Your current fwb—Theo, standing over you; his face hidden, mask in place of those half-lidded eyes that you’ve learned to read so well. And you know—you know the thought is fucking absurd—yet, it knots something in your stomach, spreading heat like a fuse just lit.

"You alright there?" Enzo's teasing pulls you out of your thoughts, and you realize he'd been staring at you that entire time. "You're looking a little...hot."

Hot. Right. Of course he'd notice—of course your best friend would notice the way you went still, frozen in place as if someone struck you with Glacius. You're no good at lying to him, not even on a good day—and right now, your mind is in shambles, already too far gone into the fantasy and—

No. No more of this.

You tear away, fumbling for the edge of a cloak that suddenly seems like the most fascinating thing you've ever seen, your fingers tracing the fabric as if it can save you.

"It's...fine—it's nice," you blurt out, too quickly, too forced, the words tumbling over themselves. "Just—no, not really my thing."

But Enzo knows better. He can spot your lies from miles away. You hear him shift, the quiet rustle of the mask in his hands—and then, he's pulling it over his face, tilting his head just to spite you.

You don't have to look to know he's smirking behind it.

"Bullshit." He steps closer, casually closing the distance, but you know it's deliberate. "You're into this, aren't you?"

The warmth on your face feels like fire now, prickling heat across your skin. He shifts closer again, and for a moment you consider jinxing him—mind scattering into dark, unbidden places—filthy, wild things, flashing behind your eyes, too real. Enzo tilts his head the other way now, letting the mask catch the light, letting it grin.

"Should I get it?" He asks, as innocent as a serial killer. "For Nott, of course."

"No."

It scrapes out of your throat, barely audible, far too small to hold truth. You’re sure he can read you right now—all your depraved thoughts in the rasp of your voice, painfully transparent.

There’s a huff, a snort of sorts. "Are you sure? I think he'd love it."

Despite his insufferableness, he’s probably right. Theo has never shied away from indulging your kinks before. That’s what no strings is about. Maybe he would love it, you know you certainly would—gods how you’d love it—even if you’d rather die before admitting it.

The cloak—you focus on the deep purple velvet, the dark lace edging. "I'm sure. Put it back."

"You don't sound so sure." Gods, he's such an asshole—point only proved further as he takes another step closer. "Does this...does this turn you on?"

"Enzo—For Godric's sake, stop." The humiliation is suffocating. This is just a glimpse at your future should you ever decide to disclose this information to him. Relentless and bloody insufferable. "Let's just—pick something and go. Please?"

A pause, then, and you don't dare look up. The mask slips from his face with another soft, satisfied hum—you don't need to see him to feel the damage done. He knows.

"Sure, angel," he says, trailing as he turns. "Whatever you want."

————

"Matt—have you seen Theo?"

"Uh—not since earlier." Mattheo replies without even looking up, his focus on pouring another dangerous looking drink rather than on you. "He's probably just out for a smoke."

Yeah. Right. Forsure—because his smoke breaks last all bloody day. Doubt twists your stomach, but you nod anyway, grabbing your own drink—something bubbling, far too bright a green to be safe, but it burns down easy all the same. The room spins in a foggy haze, lights bleeding together over costumes, wizard and Muggle and something in between—and you struggle to tell who's who.

Theo had refused to tell you what he was dressing up as—claimed he wanted it to be a surprise. Now, that surprise is nowhere to be found.

"What are you supposed to be?" You raise a brow at Mattheo's striped inmate costume. “Your future?"

Riddle's eye flash as he pretends to be offended for about two seconds until his gaze drops to your own costume and his tongue darts over his lips, taking it in. Beer-maid, tight bodice, shorter than preferred. It's not what you were going for, not in the slightest, but it's all Pansy had in her closet to save you after you and Enzo failed to find anything interesting at the shop the other day.

"Maybe. But you definitely aren't dressed as yours." His attention shifts back to the crowd, a failed attempt at hiding his grin. "Way too much fabric."

You scoff, but that's just how Mattheo is—always a sly comment, always pushing. You roll your eyes and swat at him, but he sticks his tongue out at you and steps back, slipping off into the crowd with a final goodbye wink—and just as you lose track of him, Draco saddles up next to you, prattling on about something you don't care to listen to.

Great, that’s two annoying Slytherins accounted for. Where the fuck is Theo?

Five seconds into pretending to be interested in whatever Malfoy is babbling on about, you give up, turning back to the drink table and skimming over the options when someone new brushes up behind you—

"Enzo told me," the words barely register before you feel it—a hand settling low at your hip. "About your kink."

With lightening speed you twist your neck, glancing over your shoulder—only to fucking gasp at what you find there. That mask. The mask. The Ghostface one from the shop; the one Enzo hasn't let you forget, hasn't stopped teasing you about—you blink, your heart barrelling out of the room, fingers tightening around your cup until it hurts—

The mask tilts, just slightly. "Looks like he was right."

"Theo—"

"Go." His voice is muffled, but sweet Merlin—the sound of it makes your knees threaten to buckle right then and there. His hand slips lower, teasing against the ruffles of your dress. "Run, Bella. Let's play."

Your body locks up, muscles tense and poised on the edge of something feral. You can't look away. Can't think. Can't breathe. His fingers slip lower, lower, until you feel it—cold leather against the heat of your skin and your throat tightens, words dying dead on your tongue.

Run.

A slight lean, and the mask brushes your neck. "Now."

He steps back, a slow retreat, but it feels like he's tugging you with him. You spin to face him, smirking, your voice barely above a whisper—

"And when you catch me?"

"Find out." His head tilts toward the door. It's your cue.

Your feet move before your mind even catches up, slipping through the rowdy crowd, darting through the half-drunk revelers in their costumes—everything blurring into an afterthought as you push past the cobwebs, pumpkins, fake spiders, all the other Halloween decor filling the fogged ballroom. Your fingertips buzz from the adrenaline—pulse echoing in your ears as you dart down one hall after another, not quite sure where you're going, but knowing you need to keep moving.

Theo told you to run—so you run.

You sprint through the castle, the corridors empty save for your hurried footsteps and the scattered Halloween decorations lunging at you from the shadows. You round a corner, making for the dungeons. It's as good a place as any, right? Dark, quiet, somewhere to hide.

Few more minutes and you make it, lungs burning as you stumble into the dreary main hall. You realize the detention room is empty—and it's perfect. You take two steps inside, already thinking you'll be able to catch your breath when—

You slam headlong into something solid.

Head swirling, your vision barely refocuses before you feel a grip on your wrists, pulling you forward with enough force to make you gasp. Everything happens so fast you don't have enough time to process what's occurring before you're forced to focus on the thing you're seeing—ghostface. Staring down at you with those empty, gaping eyes. Unreadable.

It's then that you realize you're caught.

Something shifts behind the mask, an almost imperceptible movement of his head. You'd almost think you imagined it but given that there's nothing else to look at you know it's impossible. The silence is ballooning and you wonder if this is part of the game, if Theo is just savouring the moment, relishing in your reaction. The way you're trembling, your breath stuttering, the way you've gone still—waiting.

You swallow, throat drier than the Sahara, but something about this has you emboldened, the fact he's playing into your fantasy like this—so you decide to tease him, breaking the silence with a soft, breathless laugh as you pull one of your hands free from his grip.

He wanted to play. It's your turn to act the part.

"Looks like you caught me...Mr. Ghostface..." you purr—the silence sticks heavy, making the space between you feel thick, electric. All you can feel are his eyes devouring you. "And now...now that you've caught me...what are you gonna' do with me...hm?"

Gods—the thrill of this is so real, one your certain is more addictive than any drug. An adrenaline rush—not knowing what he's thinking, what he's about to do. Not being able to read him like you normally could. It makes your thighs quake—and there’s half a second where you wonder how much Enzo would pay to see this, how much he’d fucking taunt you for it.

But just as quickly as it came, you shake that thought—focused on Theo, you pull your bottom lip between your teeth and sink to your knees, fingertips teasing from his chest to his abdomen, tilting your head to look up at him through your lashes.

"...please don't punish me." You giggle—and the debauched absurdity of it all makes you nearly choke. "I'll be so good—I'll do anything, Theo—"

You feel him huff, tense, and when your fingers graze the front of his pants—just barely touching his crotch— his hand snaps down like a vice, gripping your wrist, stopping you dead in your tracks.

And then, you hear it. "Salazar sakes—shit—"

Your heart plummets. That voice—it's like being thrown into ice-cold water. No, that's not—it can't be—

"Enzo?"

Your voice cracks as you all but screech, your head whipping up so fast you feel dizzy. No, no, no—

Enzo, who you previously thought was Theo, pulls the mask off and all but verbally confirms it. Your nightmare born to life. Spooling to fruition right in front of you. He smiles, lips curled into something thoroughly entertained, and gods, how his eyes glint with pure assholery—you could fucking kill him.

"Enzo—" you stammer, horror flushing through you, burning through the mortification lodged in your throat. "Gods—what the fuck—"

"Surprise," he breathes, like this is the most casual thing in the world to him.

You scramble back, knees scraping against cold stone—mind spiralling in every direction at once—shame collides with shock and it all burns under your skin, the kind of heat that never settles. You know Theo's voice. You could never mistake it. You know for a fact that was him back at the party— but this, this makes no sense.

"What...what the hell-" your voice stumbles like you're trying to outrun the words. "Why would you—what were you—"

"Relax," he is all too fucking calm. "It was a prank."

"A prank?" You're still on the floor, and for some reason that makes everything worse. "You call that a prank? A—a funny little joke?"

"That's usually the definition—"

"No." You hiss between clenched teeth, anger strangling any hope for composure. "What were you doing in here? This— this isn't—you were trying to-"

"Trying to what?" He sounds so goddamn innocent but you know better. He's toying with you, making sure you know it. He's been your best friend since you were kids but you never said it was by choice. He steps closer. "I was trying to what, angel?"

Your blood boils, the heat spreading fast—pooling low in your core against all specks of your sanity. He's relishing this, drinking in your mortification like it's fine wine—and for some reason, it makes you weak.

"You—" words die with another one of his steps, the toes of his shoes brushing against your skin as he crouches down in front of you, elbows resting casually on his knees. You sit back, ass meeting cold stone. "Enzo—"

"Yeah?" He cocks an eyebrow. "You just gonna' parrot my name all night? Maybe you're too embarrassed to speak?"

The constant mocking feels like ice and you want to slap that smug look right off his face but instead your fucking thighs tense. You have nothing to say—can only stare at him, lungs seizing further as you notice the smirk fading from his lips, something darker replacing it—

"You didn't even know who was under that mask, and you were ready to suck me off," he's whispering, but he may as well be screaming. "You'd do anything for anyone with a mask, huh? I wish I knew about this kink of yours sooner."

He leans in closer, his knees pushing yours apart—you and Enzo had never been strangers to toying the line of friendship one too many times while drunk, but this—

You blink. Staring at him. "You...you're enjoying this way too much."

"Guilty as charged." His smile spreads wider, cockier, his eyes dipping to your lips, then lower. You shiver involuntarily. "I know I should have stopped you sooner, but seeing you on your knees...in front of me...I just..."

He shakes his head before he slowly stands back up—and his eyes flicker to your chest, lingering on your fucking tits and not even trying to be subtle about it.

Then, there’s a sound—the sound of the door creaking open.

You barely hear it, the faint shuffle of footsteps, but it's enough to pull the grin from Enzo's face as he looks up. You're not sure your heart can handle anymore of this—plummeting to the stone beneath you as Theo steps into the room, dressed just like Enzo—black robes, black gloves, Ghostface mask.

"Nott." Enzo's voice is too casual, too easy. "Great timing, mate."

Theo’s silent as he takes in the scene. You—still on the floor, dress hitched up, legs spread. Enzo standing over you, smug, unbothered. Theo's presence fills the room as he shuts the door behind him and locks it, stoking your humiliation into something even hotter, something impossible to escape.

Theo's voice is flat, his tone too even. "Looks like you got caught."

Wait—

"You—" your gaze jumps between them, a wild panic bubbling up inside you. You're so fucking confused. "What is this? You two—"

"Like I said, a prank." Enzo says as he steps toward Theo, clapping a hand on his shoulder. "A bet, really.”

Theo doesn't respond. He doesn't move. He doesn't look away from you.

"A bet?" You choke out, trying to piece everything together. "What bet?"

"Well, you see, angel," Enzo pushes away from Theo and slumps down into a chair just off to the side of you. You feel the dread rolling in like a storm. "I bet big Theo here you'd get so weak in the knees over the mask, you wouldn't even notice the switch. As usual, I was right."

Andddd, there’s the dread. Yup. As expected whenever Enzo is fucking involved in anything.

"Oh, wow—" you'd laugh if you weren't this utterly mortified by the entire situation. "You guys are—gods. You’re going after a whole new high score in the prick olympics, aren't you—"

"Oh, I don't know if you believe that, topolina...I think you're just being shy." Theo cuts through your rambling and you flinch at the sound of his voice. "It's clear this is a fantasy of yours."

Your head tilts up, eyes widening as they meet the empty, hollow eyes of the mask drawing closer.

"I bet you're just embarrassed," Theo's pressing—he's fucking pressing and you don’t think you’ve breathed since he walked in. "Embarrassed that you got on your knees for your best friend...or maybe you're afraid I'd be mad." He pauses, and his gaze sweeps down over you. "Which, to that I'd have to say, I'm far from."

You swallow hard, your mouth dry. "You're...you're not mad?"

Perhaps you were afraid of that—even if you and Theo are unofficial in every aspect.

His answer is instant. "No."

He crouches in front of you, gloved fingers finding your chin, tipping your head up so he can look at you— really look at you.

"In fact...I think you should let him watch..." his thumb ghosts over your lower lip, so soft, so slow—without thinking, your tongue flicks out, barely grazing the leather covered tip, and you hear the soft exhale he releases in response. "After all, this was his idea. He deserves some fun too, don't you think?"

Heat floods your cunt, your stomach tightening at the suggestion. You glance at Enzo, sitting back now with his mask on—legs spread wide, leather hands clasped, calm—you wanted to kill him five minutes ago, but now—

Oh gods—you're really losing it.

"Yeah," you whisper, barely managing the word. "He probably does."

Theo's hand slides down to your thigh, leather fingers curling into the soft skin, pulling your legs open further.

"Mhm." He mutters. "You like being watched, don't you?"

Your breath catches, your pulse thundering in your ears as you nod, your eyes glued to Enzo. "Yes..."

"Say it." His fingers trail higher, teasing the soft skin beneath your dress, fingertips grazing closer—too close—just below the lace hem of your panties.

Salazar save you.

You bite your lip, and the air between you feels like it's thickening, growing too dense to breathe in. That fucking mask. You've fantasized over it. And now, there's two of them. Two sets of eyes—faceless, emotionless, and watching you. It's like something out of your fucking dreams.

"I—I like being watched," you manage to whisper, voice breaking between building lust.

"Louder," Theo growls this time like he's pulling it from somewhere deep in his chest—it sends liquid heat spilling through you. "Louder, topolina. He can't hear you if you're whispering."

Your heart stutters in your chest, and Enzo—gods, Enzo is still watching—stays silent, the mask concealing whatever reaction he might have, but his posture speaks volumes. Stillness, dark fabric of his trousers tight across his thighs, a coiled tension that radiates off him, permeates the space between you.

"I—fuck—" a breathless moan cracks through your words as Theo's leather-clad fingers slip under your panties, grazing your slick slit. "—love it. I love being watched."

Theo hums, the sound vibrating low in his throat, and rewards you by pushing two fingers into your dripping heat. So slow, the pace of his strokes torturous—slick sounds of leather working you open filling the room, mingling with your quiet, shuddering breaths. His thumb brushes your clit, teasing over it until you moan—hard and shameless—

"So loud," Theo mocks, your spine arching into him as his fingers curl inside you. "Eager, filthy little thing. You love being on display, don't you?"

A whimper catches in your throat, your gaze still locked on Enzo, watching him watch you.

You're shaking. You're close. Too close.

Your voice cracks again, nothing more than a whisper caught in a moan. "Theo...fuck—"

"You're so wet, bellissima," Theo breathes behind the mask. You're burning, every nerve sizzling. "You want to cum, don't you?"

You can't speak. Words don't exist anymore, only the pressure—only the way Theo's fingers curl inside you, the way your thighs tremble and ache from holding yourself open, from being watched, from being this goddamn humiliated.

"Y-yes," you choke out, desperate. "Yes, please, I—"

"Ask him." Theo's cuts you off. "Ask Enzo to let you cum."

The room spins. The air thickens into something cloying.

Ask him. Ask Enzo—

You swallow hard, your eyes darting between the two masks. Enzo is silent, still motionless, but he tilts his head slightly, the only indication that he's heard. That he's waiting.

"Please, Enzo—" the humiliation is sickening but you force past it. It’s a broken prayer, vulnerability in verbal form. "Please...let me cum—please—"

Time stretches. It feels like hours, an eternity where nothing exists but the weight of their hidden eyes on you, the way Enzo's fingers twitch, curl over the thick ridge at his crotch, leather knuckles tensing as if he's restraining himself from something primal. You're being devoured whole by this moment—by the unbearable tension, by Theo's fingers inside you, relentless in their assault, and gods—you're going to die if they don't let you—

"Yeah," Enzo finally murmurs, breaking the silence. Theo's gaze flickers to him, waiting. "Yeah, you can cum, angel…”

But as he says it, he shakes his head, and Theo—the absolute bastard—pulls his fingers out without a word.

"…just not yet." Enzo finishes.

The sound that leaves your throat isn't even human, some guttural, helpless whine torn straight from your throbbing, empty cunt. Theo shushes you.

"You'll get to cum, Bella," he coos, standing up slowly. "It'll be soon."

They're toying with you, playing you like a goddamn puppet on strings and it's infuriating in its deliciousness. You've known these men for years, yet it's almost laughable—the way they feel so foreign, so terrifyingly new.

"Oh, Enzo," you sigh, feeling your arousal cool, your body suddenly aware of the icy stone beneath you, of the wet heat slicking down your thighs. "I'm going to kill you tomorrow."

Enzo snorts. "You're welcome to try."

Theo exhales a half-chuckle, helping you off the floor and onto a desk, his hands firm on your thighs as he spreads you open like he's done a hundred times within the last few months.

A moment passes before he moves to loosen his belt and you realize just how close Enzo is now—his chair right beside the desk, his hand palming the bulge in his pants, shameless in his observation. The sight makes you fucking dizzy with filth. Surely, you've lost your mind. This is madness. Every line between friendship and lust—between restraint and indulgence—has blurred and bled into something you can't define, and the thrill of it is intoxicating.

"This is insane," you hiss, breathless, feeling the way Theo's gloves scrape over your skin, two thick digits dragging in your slick. "You're both fucking insane."

"Too much talking," Theo mutters, so infuriatingly calm, even as he drags the head of his dick over your folds, teasing your clit. "So much attitude for someone dripping down their thighs. You want to stop?" The silence stretches, your eyes locked on his, and you can feel the smirk behind the mask. He nods. "That's what I thought. Now shut up and let me fuck this wet cunt."

His hands grip either side of the desk, his body looming over you—the scene from your fantasy you've envisioned a million times. Ghostface—dominant and rough—gods, you want it. So bad it fucking hurts.

Your head lolls to the side, eyes immediately finding Enzo's again—forgetting for half a second that he was even there. His jeans are unbuttoned now, his hand moving rhythmically beneath the denim, mask locked onto you with a single-minded focus that makes your breath stutter.

"Enz-ohhh—" you go to say something to him, but then Theo pushes into you—no warning, no slow build—just a deep, unforgiving thrust that knocks the breath from your lungs, and your voice cracks on his name, the syllables lost in the moan that spills out of you.

"Shit." Enzo groans in response. "Did you just—"

"She did," Theo snarls, his grip on your hips punishing as he slams into you again, harder this time. "The little slut just moaned your name."

There's cursing, from both of them, but it's all a blur in your ears, drowned out by the sound of Theo's hips slamming into yours, the fevered slap of skin on skin, the obscene sounds you can't help but make—

"Yeah, I noticed," Enzo mutters, and fuck, he sounds ruined, completely lost in the sight of you—his best friend, getting fucked by his other best friend. "Fuck."

Theo's hand finds your jaw, forcing your head back to face him, Ghostface mask looming above you like a delicious nightmare.

"Who's fucking you?" His voice is caught somewhere between a snarl and a purr. "Is it Enzo?"

"N-no—" you manage, trembling with every thrust.

"Of course it's not," Theo hisses, driving into you with punctual thrusts to make you feel him, making you cry out when he slams your cervix. "So why'd you moan his name? When it's—fuck—my cock inside you?"

"I—I didn't mean—" you whimper, eyes squeezed shut, but there's no escape. Not from the relentless pace of Theo's dick, not from the way Enzo's eyes never leave you, burning into you like fire. You can't form words.

"Mm—don't be shy now, topolina," Theo purrs, his voice thick with effort. His hips snap forward, and your back arches, a broken sound escaping you. "I think you just love having him in your mouth—his name, his—"

"Fuck, Nott, shut up," Enzo cuts in, his head thrown back, chest tense. "I don't want to hear your voice—"

You can hear the strain, the way he's barely holding it together—

"Look at him," Theo ignores Enzo's words. He lets go of your jaw. "He wants you. He's always wanted you."

Your eyes dart between them, head spinning, unable to form a coherent thought—Theo's fucking relentless, pushing you closer and closer to the edge—and every time you glance at Enzo, you see the way he's breaking, hand moving faster, chest rising and falling with ragged breaths—

"I never knew you were such a voyeur, Nott," Enzo spits, trying to sound casual. "Never took you for being such a filthy bastard."

"What can I say?" Theo groans in response, propping your legs up over his shoulders to drive into you deeper. "Just discovered a new interest, you should try it sometime."

They're still bantering, like this is some kind of fucked-up competition, like you're not about to shatter into a million fucking pieces while your best friend watches—after he got you here and humiliated you with a fucking bet—gods, you'd laugh if you weren't so utterly lost to the pleasure ripping through you.

"And watch you get off on it?" Enzo spits back, voice rough. "I'll—"

Theo snorts, cutting him off. "I think there's more than one person getting off on—"

"Shut the-fffuck up—please-" you manage to moan, the words barely intelligible. You look to Enzo, eyes wide and pleading. "Enz...come here."

"Yeah...?" Enzo breathes out, his voice catching, tipping his head back forward to look at you. “What?”

"Come here," you moan again, trembling, fraying under the pleasure that's building inside you from Theo’s insistent dick. "Let me help you."

For a moment, he hesitates, and you can’t tell what he’s thinking because the goddamn mask hides everything. He's always been the calm one between you—always stopping your drunk kisses, always refraining from taking things too far. But tonight, there’s no more of that calm left in him—

He stands.

Each step he takes feels like a lifetime, but when he's standing next to your head on the desk, towering above where you're laid out like a feast, you don't know whether it's the mask or the situation itself that has your pulse racing. Erotic and terrifying, the not-knowing—a power exchange in its purest form. Theo growls infront of you, his thrusts growing harder, more vicious, as you reach out to pull Enzo's hips closer.

You're already eyeing the throbbing bulge in his jeans, your mouth practically watering as you stare.

"Go on," you rasp, lips parting as you look up through your lashes. "Take it out."

The breath Enzo sucks in is sharp, a hitch in the darkness. His fingers tremble, just barely, as he pushes his pants down his thighs, and the noise that escapes him when his cock slips out and smacks his stomach—low, strangled—makes you moan and clench in response—he's huge.

Your breath catches, a soft exhale of, "oh, fuck."

And the words are barely out of your mouth before both Theo and Enzo respond—low growls and breathless groans that echo in the shadowed room, vibrating through you like electricity.

"Open your pretty mouth," Enzo whispers and you obey without hesitation, tongue slipping out, wanting, eager. His breath shudders, and you wish you could see his eyes. "Good girl."

And then he's pushing into you, sliding hot and thick over your tongue, and at that exact moment, Theo thrusts harder, deeper, and suddenly you're overwhelmed—both of them inside you, filling you, consuming every breath. Moans ripple through the dungeon air, a chorus of sin, and you shake with the sheer intensity of it all.

Theo's thumb finds your clit, starts swirling over it, and you keen—eyes rolling back in your head, Enzo’s leather hands in your hair to hold you still. Tears stream down your face as you gag, spit pooling at the corners of your mouth, but neither of them stop—if anything, they're both lost in it, in the wrecked, messy beauty of it all. Your hands claw at the desk, desperate for something to hold on to as the pleasure builds, tightens, spirals out of control.

Time collapses. It's been moments—it's been hours.

And then it happens—all three of you tipping over the edge at once, crashing into a release so fierce it shatters you. Your climax rips through you, violent, leaving you shaking, milking Theo until he's spent—until he's pouring his cum deep inside your cunt at the same time Enzo groans deep and spills his own over your tongue. A moment passes, and then Theo is the first to pull away, panting, tearing off his mask and dropping into the chair beside the desk, and Enzo follows, tugging his jeans back up before slumping into another chair, mask still on—

Both of them are sprawled there, utterly spent, just as wrecked as you.

And then, after a few long, tense moments, you hear it—the clink of Galleons exchanged. You don't even need to look up for it to register. Theo tosses the coins into Enzo’s greedy palm because he was the true fucking winner here. The sound cuts through the stillness, and with it, that smug, unmistakable sneer in Enzo's voice.

"Told you she'd love it."

Asshole.

You roll your eyes. Your limbs feel like they're moving through molasses as you stand, your hands mechanically fixing your costume, adjusting the fabric against your thighs.

"You know, Enzo, if you wanted to watch Theo fuck me that bad, all you had to do was ask."

"What can I say," he shrugs, lazy, like he's discussing the weather. "I enjoy a bit of gambling."

Theo snorts, adjusting his collar, as if none of this fazes him. His eyes flick from you to Enzo. "Next time you'll be paying me."

"Next time?" You cock an eyebrow. "How generous of you."

"There will be a next time," Enzo says, flipping one of the Galleons between his fingers, that same smirk playing on his lips. "And I'll get my turn."

Your pulse quickens at the sheer arrogance of it, the way he says it like it's not even up for debate. You hate how much you like this side of him.

"Maybe next time you should."

They nod, both of them wearing their smirks like crowns. "Until next time, then."

[hiddenreamers]

Worlds Collide - Lando Norris x neuropsychologist!Reader

SUMMARY: You're a fresh neuropsychologist who is internet-famous for making entertaining and educational videos about anything psychology-related. Lando and you meet for the first time when the two of you are invited to do an episode on a podcast where people from very different professions sit down together and talk about their lives. Considering the instant chemistry, the fans aren't exactly surprised when the dating rumours emerge...

worldscollide_pod tagged landonorris and yn_thebrainiac in a post:

What do a neuropsychologist and a Formula 1 driver have in common? 🧠🏎️ We don't know either! So we invited landonorris and yn_thebrainiac to tell us about their lives.

Listen to Worlds Collide wherever you get your podcasts or watch the episode on our YouTube channel. You can suggest and vote on show guests on our Patron page.

Comments:

user1: i'd say they have brain injury in common??

user2: not the crossover episode we wanted but the one we needed

user3: he's driving fast, she's a failed med student, what's interesting about that?

↳ user4: omg please be a joke 😭 or a ragebait ↳ user5: user3 do you realize how much time and effort it takes to be either a f1 driver or a neuropsychologist? ↳ user5: high school dropout ass comment

landonorris: can't wait!

↳ yn_thebrainiac: looking forward to meeting you ❤️ liked by landonorris

user6: he called a rectangle a circle and she uses Latin names for brain parts like it's common knowledge. Truly a collision of worlds lmao

user7: these two in one room?? feels like a fever dream

↳ user8: more like a new Barbie movie

worldscollide_pod tagged landonorris and yn_thebrainiac in a post:

This week on Worlds Collide we have learned that a pit stop is kinda like a therapy appointment, helmets are humanity's best invention and waffles are to your brain what fuel is to a car.

Huge thanks to landonorris and yn_thebrainiac for giving us insight into their exceptional careers as well as two hours of good laughs!

Listen to Worlds Collide wherever you get your podcasts or watch the episode on our YouTube channel. You can suggest and vote on show guests on our Patron page.

Comments:

user9: yn_thebrainiac is the only person to get excited over brain injuries

↳ user10: and landonorris is the only person to make heart eyes while someone is talking about brain injuries

user11: when yn_thebrainiac was explaining her job and said to Lando he should hope he never has to be examined by her he looked so defeated 😭😭 truly a wet cat

↳ user12: and the "I guess I won't wear a helmet anymore"?? bro is down bad from the start

yn_thebrainiac: thank you for the opportunity! landonorris it was great meeting you ❤️ hope to see you again soon liked by landonorris and worldscollide_pod

↳ landonorris: just let me know when and where 🏃‍♂️🏃‍♂️

user13: landonorris is that guy who suddenly becomes a comedian whenever a pretty girl is around

↳ user14: but it DID work on yn_thebrainiac 😭😭😭

user15: not yn_thebrainiac answering questions like it's a presidential debate and Lando going idk man I just drive

user16: Lando asking the hosts to repeat the question because he was too focused on yn_thebrainiac? man's not beating the simp allegations anytime soon

user17: that whole episode felt more like a date than a talk show liked by worldscollide_pod

↳ worldscollide_pod: were we more wingmen or a third wheel?

user18: the way both of them were invested in each other's stories made me realize how utterly single I am

↳ user19: when yn_thebrainiac said it's a force of habit to ask how something made him feel and then Lando casually asking her the same thing??? delete Tinder, no dating app will get you a man like this

user20: can I just say how surprised I am with Lando's thoughtfulness? Like when yn_thebrainiac said she's scared to drive after examining an accident victim and he immediately offered to be her driver?

↳ user21: considering the tales of Lando's driving, it will only traumatise her further lol

user22: Lando telling her to continue because he wants to hear the rest of the story when she apologized for getting sidetracked??? 🥺🥺 mom, I want this one!!!!!

user23: they just met and they have more chemistry than some couples who have been married for decades

↳ user24: if Lando was staring at me the way he's staring at yn_thebrainiac I'd be radioactive 📛☢️ ↳ user25: no but really girlies if he doesn't look at you the way Lando's looking at her, he's not the one 🏃‍♀️‍➡️❌

user26: now I kinda want yn_thebrainiac to take up Lando on his offer to test his cognitive skills

↳ user27: if they're in the same room he's going to fail every attention task

user28: Lando's dolphin ass giggle would make you think yn_thebrainiac is the funniest person on Earth

↳ user29: he's just a girl 🎀🎀

user30: I became a fan the moment yn_thebrainiac said "imagine your head is a hairy watermelon with a ball of jello inside"

↳ user31: as a med student I can tell you that it's pretty accurate

gossipgirl_f1 just posted a picture:

🚨🚨🚨McLaren's most eligible bachelor landonorris not eligible anymore? 🚨🚨🚨The driver has been spotted in Japan getting comfortable with an unnamed girl.

user32: didn't yn_thebrainiac post she's there too?

↳ user33: oh god please let it be real ↳ user34: it's definitely her

user35: people out there living my dreams 🥲

user36: why do yall even care?? he's a grown ass man, grow tf up

↳ user37: and yet here you are commenting 😴😴 like what are YOU doing at the devils sacrament?

user38: where's the FBI when you need them we have to knowww

↳ user39: that's yn_thebrainiac she had the exact same outfit in the story she posted earlier

user40: come look girl user41 someones stealing your man

↳ user41: aw hell naw she better know how to fight ↳ user42: wow the delulu is strong with this one

user43: look what yall did worldscollide_pod liked by worldscollide_pod

↳ user43: i guess that's a confirmation huh

landonorris tagged yn_thebrainiac in a post:

Japan treated us nice but she treats me nicer 🌸🇯🇵

Comments:

user44: so they met and fell in love because they were randomly invited to do a random episode of a random podcast? and people still say God ain't real smdh

↳ user45: they better not forget to invite worldscollide_pod to their wedding

user46: guess he'll fuck anyone, when's my turn?

↳ user47: probably never, considering you're no one rather than anyone💁‍♀️💁‍♀️

oscarpiastri: yes, they are as annoyingly in love as they look

↳ landonorris: woww and here I thought we were best friends ↳ landonorris: so rude ↳ oscarpiastri: I have group chat screenshots ↳ landonorris: you're my bestest friend Oscar and you're too nice to ever do this to me 🥰 ↳ maxverstappen1: we all have screenshots ↳ georgerussell63: you're cooked mate ↳ landonorris: 🥲🥲

user48: I would sacrifice my firstborn for this 😭😭

user49: I'm not sure who I am more jealous of

↳ user50: both

user51: they look so good together wtf

user52: worldscollide_pod you guys need to fix your post, what neuropsychologist and a f1 driver have in common is a marriage certificate

user53: ok real question how did he pull her??

↳ user54: he's a millionaire he doesn't have to do anything lol women's ideal type is a loaded wallet ↳ user55: bold of you to assume someone like her needs a walking piggy bank

yn_thebrainiac tagged landonorris in a post:

Hey, did you know that it was a Japanese scholar, Hiroshi Kojima, who popularized phenomenological ontology? He proposed that the dichotomy of individuality vs consciousness could be solved by treating the body as a half-way point between those two concepts. In essence, Kojima suggested considering the body as being seen both from the inside and the outside, now focusing on the intersubjective encounters as part of what constitutes the human being in the context of ontology.

Ps. He promised to wear his helmet! 🌼💖

Comments:

user56: she's everything, he's just Ken😌💅liked by landonorris

↳ georgerussell63: facts

user57: I bet the pillow talk is baffling

↳ landonorris: nah she's too tired for that ↳ user58: 💀💀 bro you didn't have to do her like that

user59: if he breaks your heart I promise to shake his head real hard, repeatedly 🥰🥰

user60: 😬😬 do they not make them pretty anymore?

↳ user61: fr she doesn't deserve him 😐 sad ↳ user62: this relationship feels like a social experiment like what do you mean he chose HER???? Lando Norris settling for a 2/10 is not the news I wanted to read today ↳ user63: wow no wonder yall dads left 😭 she's a normal looking woman, did porn rot your peanut brains completely? go outside and interact with regular, non-photoshopped people and then come back

user64: they have nothing in common and yet they fit perfectly how?? i feel like I'm having a strokee

user65: diagnostic process videos bout to get lit now that there's a volunteer to draw clocks and memorize strings of random words

user66: why do they look like a disney movie couple

↳ maxverstappen1: he may or may not have called her princess on more than one occasion ↳ landonorris: you guys promised 🥲 ↳ oscarpiastri: no, we promised not to post the screenshots ↳ yn_thebrainiac: you mean the screenshots georgerussell63 just sent me? ↳ landonorris: good talk everyone I'll just go die of embarrassment if you don't mind ↳ yn_thebrainiac: I thought the things you said about me were kind of cute ↳ landonorris: nvm I'm back to life