#and then i also had to set it down for like an hour for the same reason. i just. im gonna go play minecraft for a few hours.

[p0orbaby]

I’d Rather Go Blind Than Let You Down

summary: the baby is here, that should calm leah down, right? right?

warnings: hospital setting

a/n: someone asked for some more panicky leah so here it is. first part here but you don’t need to read it if you don’t want to

word count: 1.3k

-

It’s a boy. A boy. Your boy. You can hardly wrap your head around it, the reality of him. He’s only been in the world for forty minutes, and already it feels like he’s upended every law of physics. Six pounds and change, but impossibly heavy in the way he roots you to the earth, demanding you stay present, stay still, stay here. His hair is a downy mess of dark brown fluff, sticking up in little uneven tufts that remind you of how Leah’s fringe used to look after her under-12s matches: matted and wild, all effort and energy. His hands—God, his hands—are the size of fifty-pence pieces, delicate and wrinkled, each finger curled tightly into its own little fist. He’s perfect. Absolutely, inexplicably perfect. And you’re completely terrified.

The hospital room smells like cheap soap and distant disinfectant, undercut by the faint, sticky sweetness of some long-spilled juice no one bothered to properly clean. It’s a symphony of beige: beige walls, beige curtains, beige linoleum. Even the bed looks beige, although it’s probably just worn white, like an old t-shirt washed too many times. Somewhere in the hallway, someone’s shoes squeak with rhythmic persistence, and you vaguely wonder if they’re pacing, as you had earlier, wearing an accidental track into the polished floor.

Leah is sitting in the uncomfortable armchair by the bed, which is upholstered in that scratchy material designed to withstand decades of spills and bad decisions. Her elbows rest on her knees, her fingers steepled against her lips in a half-prayer, half-facepalm, as if she’s mid-negotiation with some higher power. She hasn’t spoken much since the baby was born. Not because she doesn’t want to, you think, but because the enormity of it all has rendered her mute. She looks pale, unsteady, as if someone has shaken her up like a bottle of fizzy water and forgotten to twist the cap back on properly.

The baby makes a soft, snuffling noise against your chest, pulling her attention like a magnet. Her gaze darts to him and then flicks away just as quickly, as if looking directly at him for too long might somehow blind her. She hasn’t held him yet. She hasn’t even really touched him, save for one trembling fingertip brushed against his impossibly tiny foot when the midwife first handed him to you. It wasn’t avoidance, not exactly. More like reverence. Or fear. Maybe both.

You’re exhausted in a way that doesn’t feel real, like your body’s moving on autopilot while your brain drifts somewhere between sleep and shock. Your limbs are heavy, molten, but there’s also an odd lightness to you, a weightless, dizzying awe at what you’ve just done. You gave birth. You. You. Somehow, you survived it—hours of pain, pushing, panting, the raw animalistic chaos of it—and now you’re here, holding this impossibly small, impossibly fragile life in your arms. You’re not sure how you’re even still upright, let alone conscious.

“Do you want to hold him?” you ask, your voice soft, careful, as if you’re coaxing a wild animal out of the brush.

Leah’s head snaps up, her eyes wide and glassy, like a deer caught in headlights. “Hold him?” she echoes, her voice shaky and high-pitched. “Me?

“Yes, you. Who else?”

She blinks, her hands flexing and unflexing against her knees like they’re warming up for a solo on Britain’s Got Talent. “I… I don’t know if that’s a good idea”

“Leah, he’s your son”

“I know,” she says quickly, her voice climbing into that higher, defensive register that comes out when she’s trying to convince herself more than you. “I know he’s my son. But he’s just so… small. And… fragile. What if I—”

“You’re not going to drop him”

“I might!” she says, alarmed by her own hypothetical. “I might drop him. Or…or hold him wrong. What if I hold him wrong and, like, dislocate something? Babies are delicate! Like…like soufflés”

You blink at her. “Did you just compare our child to a soufflé?”

She shrugs helplessly. “I don’t know! I’m just saying, I’m not exactly… maternal, am I? I’m not one of those people who looks at a baby and just… knows what to do. I’m more of a… ‘panic and Google it’ kind of person”

“That’s fine,” you say, adjusting the baby slightly in your arms as he makes a soft, snuffling noise. “Most parents are ‘panic and Google it’ people. It’s basically the default”

Leah doesn’t look convinced. She’s rubbing her hands together now, the way she does before a big match, but this isn’t a match. There’s no referee, no whistle, no rules, no second leg if she screws this up. Her gaze darts back to the baby, then to you, then back to the baby, like she’s trying to memorise the mechanics of holding him without actually doing it.

“What if I’m terrible at this?” she blurts out suddenly, the words spilling out of her in a rush. “What if I’m a terrible mum and he grows up hating me and we end up one of those families where no one talks and we all just sit around at Christmas in complete silence, eating dry turkey and resenting each other?”

You stare at her. “That’s… a very specific fear”

She shrugs, her leg bouncing up and down anxiously. “I’ve seen it happen”

“Leah, you’re not going to be a terrible mum”

“How do you know?”

“Because I know you. And you love him. That’s pretty much the most important part”

She frowns, her brow furrowed like she’s still not quite buying it. “Love’s not enough. Love doesn’t teach you how to… to… change nappies or… or know what all the different cries mean”

“Love doesn’t teach you that,” you agree, “but practice does. And you’ll get there. We both will”

Leah’s eyes flick back to the baby, who has now fallen into a soft, twitchy sleep against your chest. Her expression softens slightly, but the fear is still there, a tightness around her mouth, a tension in her shoulders.

“What if he doesn’t like me?” she asks quietly.

You laugh, soft and disbelieving. “He’s a newborn, Leah. His likes and dislikes are limited to ‘milk’ and ‘not-milk.’ He’s not going to sit there judging your personality”

She doesn’t laugh. If anything, she looks even more stricken, like she’s just realised she might have to win over this tiny person who doesn’t even have fully developed motor skills yet.

You sigh, reaching out to take her hand. “Leah, listen to me. You’re not going to drop him. You’re not going to dislocate anything. And you’re definitely not going to ruin Christmas twenty years from now. You’re going to be great. I promise”

She hesitates, her fingers curling slightly around yours. “What if I mess up?”

“You will,” you say simply. “We both will. That’s part of it. But messing up doesn’t mean failing. It just means you’re trying”

For a moment, she just looks at you, her eyes searching yours for something—reassurance, absolution, a manual for parenthood that doesn’t exist. Then, slowly, she nods. It’s not a confident nod, not by any stretch, but it’s a start.

“Okay,” she says quietly. “I’ll try.”

You smile, holding out the baby toward her. “Then take him”

She hesitates for one last second before leaning forward, her hands trembling slightly as she takes the baby from you. She holds him like he’s made of glass, her arms stiff and awkward, but she’s holding him. She’s doing it.

And then the baby lets out a tiny, contented sigh, and Leah freezes, staring down at him like she’s just witnessed a miracle.

“He…he’s so… little,” she whispers, her voice filled with something like awe. “And warm. Why’s he so warm?”

“Because he’s a baby, not a lizard”

Leah lets out a soft, breathless laugh, her eyes never leaving the baby’s face. For the first time all night, she looks calm. Not completely, but enough. Enough to believe, maybe just for a moment, that she can do this.

That you can do this. Together.

[ink-perfect]

blowing up ur phone...

─ obsessed bf!gojo x gn!reader ⋆. based on: 22 - lil candy paint, bhad bhabie

gojo had a bad habit.

a bad habit of blowing up your phone.

it wasn’t the 'three texts in a row' kind of blowing up, either.

oh no, gojo satoru didn’t do small-scale chaos.

it was an art form for him. the type of masterpiece that made your phone buzz off your nightstand at 3 a.m. with thirty consecutive messages that alternated between blurry selfies, close-ups of his sunglasses, and texts like:

“hey👋 (with the intention of getting midnight sushi)”

“do u think panda would let me dye him pink? 🤔”

“pick up plzzz i jsut saw the funniest video on instagram but i accidnetally exited tje app it and cant find it anymore so i'm jsut going to explain it to you in detail”

and tonight was no different—except this time, it came after your first real argument.

you couldn’t even remember what had set it off anymore, but it had ended with you storming off and gojo… well, doing whatever gojo does when someone’s mad at him (probably eating mochi and sulking).

soon enough, after an hour or so of no contact, the first barrage had begun: thirty consecutive texts ranging from the initial

“i’m sorry 🥺👉👈”

to a dramatic

“why do you hate me? 😭💔 (don't answer that.)”

you’d ignored all of them, determined to let him stew.

but then the calls begun.

ring after ring, voicemail after voicemail, starting out with intense professions of love that slowly faded into desperate pleas for you to call him back, text him back, to respond just once.

and when those went unanswered too, he escalated.

your phone buzzed on your nightstand, flashing yet another text. this time, it came with a photo—gojo lying facedown on what appeared to be megumi’s couch, his hand clutching an empty box of tissues. the caption read:

“i’ve been crying for 84 years 😢 come back pls”

you rolled your eyes, but the corner of your mouth twitched at the photo despite yourself.

he’s impossible.

another buzz. this one said,

“fine if ur not gonna answer just know ur the light of my life and i’ll literally wither away like an unwatered houseplant if u don’t forgive me soon 😭 also ur socks are still in my room do u want me to wash them or nah”

the buzz after that said,

“actually nah i'm not bothered to wash them"

and then another buzz.

"also ur prettier when ur mad 🥰”

the audacity of this man.

you let your impulses get the better of you and texted back a stern "leave. me. alone."

and not even a second later, your phone screen lit up with gojo's face for the umpteenth time.

you groaned, snatching it up and finally swiping to answer to put an end to all of this.

“gojo, what part of ‘leave me alone’ don’t you understand?!”

“oh my god,” he gasped, his voice overflowing with fake relief. “you’re alive!”

“i—”

“you weren’t answering, so i thought maybe you’d been kidnapped! or fallen down a well! or—”

“i ignored you,” you interrupted sharply. “on purpose.”

“no yeah, i got that,” he said breezily, completely unfazed. “but we're talking now! the devil sure does work hard, but gojo works harderrrrr."

"gojo—"

"so, how much did ya miss me?”

"gojo."

"also did you see my text about the socks?”

"gojo!"

“aaaaand i’m outside your window by the way.”

“you’re what?”

“outside!” he chirped back like it was the most normal thing in the world.

sure enough, when you yanked open your curtains, there he was—gojo satoru, standing on your lawn in a hoodie two sizes too big, clutching a mismatched bouquet of convenience store snacks and flowers that you could just tell he had made himself.

“ta-da~!” he grinned into the phone as you watched him hold up the haul like it was an olympic medal. “i come bearing gifts!”

you gawked at him. “are you serious?”

“deadly,” he said, his smile widening so much you could even see it from your vantage point. “i brought your favourite snacks, and also, i stole these flowers from my neighbour’s garden. don’t tell anyone.”

“oh my god.” you smacked your forehead, torn between laughing and drawing your curtains shut. “it’s three in the morning.”

“yeah, well, you didn’t answer my texts,” he said, pouting dramatically. “do you have any idea how sad that made me? i’m so sad, baby, like, devastated. i swear i saw my life flash before my eyes.”

you folded your arms, mock unimpressed. “what’s sad is that you think this is going to work.”

“it’s already working,” he shot back smugly. “you’re talking to me, aren’t you?”

you hated that he was right. you hated even more that your annoyance was quickly being replaced by amusement. he’s lucky he’s cute.

“toru, just go home,” you sighed, though your voice lacked its earlier venom.

“not until you forgive me,” he declared, dropping to one knee with such theatrics you were surprised broadway hadn't whisked him away already. “or at least let me in so i can grovel properly.”

“you’re unbelievable.”

“yeah. unbelievably in love with you.”

you threw a pillow at the window, even though it wouldn’t reach him, giving yourself a minute to think.

okay, more like a few seconds. to be fair, you were sure he had learnt his lesson. and, well...you were craving ramen, which happened to be placed front and centre in his haphazard bouquet.

“fine!" you whisper-yelled into the phone, a smile already creeping its way onto your face despite your best efforts to stay mad. "but if you wake up my neighbours, i swear i'm locking you out.”

his grin practically lit up the yard. “deal!”

and just like that, you were stomping down the stairs, blanket in hand, ready to let in the most exasperating, ridiculous, adorable man you’d ever met.

because, really, how could you stay mad at him?

© ink-perfect; est. 2024.

[venomhound]

Hazbin Hotel - Morning Routines

Kind of a part 2 to the Sleeping Habits Post??? While that one is about falling asleep with them, this one is about what its like to wake up with them. Same lineup; Alastor, Vox, and Lucifer. I... also might have accidentally started a Charlie one so I might be doing more parts to these (｡ŏ_ŏ)

Contents/WARNINGS: Gender neutral reader; NSFW in Vox's section; mostly just nuclear powered fluff; somebody PLEASE get Lucifer a doctor the man is so depressed (18+), MDNI, NSFW below the cut ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

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Alastor ₊˚ ‿��୨୧

As gone over in my sleeping habits post, Alastor does not like sharing a bed normally. But if it does happen to be a blue moon and he actually stayed the whole night; it is a sight to behold in the morning.

Alastor's hair is naturally curly. Due to internalized racism (from you know, the 1920s), Alastor insists his hair must be straight and has a crazy hair routine to keep it that way. One of many reasons why his hair is so... gnarly looking.

Right after he wakes up in the mornings though, his bedhead breaks through the illusion. You get to see the glorious sight of Alastor's hair attempting to go back to its natural form. The edges of his locks are making small loops in all directions, and his face is framed in loose ringlets.

Unfortunately, this only lasts for about ten minutes at most before he goes to "fix" it.

Other then getting to see that beautiful sight, the mornings are the same regardless of if he stayed in the bed with you or not; You always get to wake up to his wonderful cooking.

Alastor has unfortunately had to take it upon himself to be the hotel chef. Charlie did try to do it for a little bit, but that resulted in more fires and ambiguous remains then anything. Vaggie and Husk can barely operate a microwave. Nifty is well... Nifty.

So Alastor pops into the hotel kitchen at around 7am to start cooking breakfast for the hotel. More 7:30 if his hair has been particularly unruly that day.

Alastor pokes fun at everyone over being their chef, but he really likes it actually. He will never admit that to anyone though. He finds the mornings relaxing because he gets to just cook, something that he enjoys and thats deeply nostalgic for him. It starts him off on the right foot for the day.

The only times it starts him on the wrong foot, is when Lucifer decides to get up at an ungodly hour (or straight up pull an all nighter), just so he can steal the kitchen and make the hotel breakfast instead.

Lucifer does this because he thinks he is a better chef then Alastor. Surely, Alastor's annoyance is proof of that! But Alastor is actually pissed off because his plans for the morning got set on fire by Lucifer's dumb ego.

Alastor really does go above and beyond as the chef by the way. For a cannibal, you would never expect how respectful he is of everyone's dietary preferences. If your a vegetarian, or even a vegan, Alastor won't blow you off. He will make something for everyone that still works for you, or just make you something special. He sees it less as you having a dietary restriction and more as a challenge of his skills.

Anyways, thanks to Alastor, mornings at the hotel are always extremely nice. Everyone comes down to eat together, hang out, and just be. Its a tranquil time and atmosphere that he has taken great care to cultivate. Sets him up perfectly mentally for his afternoon radio shows.

✿°•∘୨୧∘•°✿‿✿°•∘୨୧∘•°✿‿✿°•∘୨୧∘•°✿

Vox ₊˚ ‿︵୨୧

Vox always wakes up with a big sigh. He is very much that type of person whose first thought when waking up is, 'goddamn it, I woke up'. Hates leaving the bed but knows he has to.

At least Vox stops having those thoughts when you become apart of his life.

If your still in the bed when he wakes up, Vox is immediately comforted by your weight on his chest. He cant help but smile as his arms tighten around you. One of Vox's hands starts absentmindedly carding through your hair as he goes over everything he has to do that day in his head.

If your not in the bed when Vox wakes up, it completely fucks with his mind. His sleeping body does not register you moving or getting up at all. So from Vox's perspective, you were in his arms one second then... not. Vox will wake up to you not there and be super confused. He will legit start looking for you like a puppy.

Depending on your relationship status with him, Vox might even just assume that he dreamt/hallucinated the whole encounter with you. Only realizing that it actually happened upon outside evidence.

Operating on the assumption that you two are a thing; Vox now tries to keep his mornings flexible because of you. They used to be very regimented. Vox would wake up, get dressed, grab a coffee, then be right out the door to head to work. But now that your here, the mornings are much more relaxed.

When you first move in, Vox's first order of business is to hire a personal chef. Don't get me wrong, Vox loves it when you cook for him. The guy absolutely melts when you do. But the reality is he loves it a little... too much. Which often results in no breakfast actually being had because Vox ends up dragging you back to the bedroom. Of course, that's if he doesn't end up fucking you right on the counter or kitchen table.

Look. Seeing you by the stove in an apron just does something to him, alright?

If you ever even asked Vox if he knew how to cook, the guy would probably bluescreen. The only thing he knows how to ""cook"" is 'takeout'. (image included) If he tried to boil an egg, he would burn the water.

So yeah. Vox takes initiative to get you two a chef. He doesn't want you to have to cook for him anyway; he wants it to be an act of love rather then an obligation. If you push Vox and say you want to cook for him, he will making heart eyes and be ready to marry you on the spot.

Seriously. Make him cute, homemade lunches for work. Vox will brag about them to everyone. Put adorable love notes in there and everything. The guy will be on his knees.

Regardless of who actually made the breakfast, Vox always has it with you. He may be a busy man, but he makes sure this is a time you get him exclusively. Vox lets you know of his schedule for the day (assuming Valentino doesnt set it on fire ofc) and when he plans on being home.

When Vox leaves for work he actually has a genuine smile on his face. Don't get me wrong, he still hates it and cant wait to get back home to you. But Vox doesn't feel that same crushing dread that he did before.

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Lucifer ₊˚ ‿︵୨୧

It used to be so hard to get up for him. It wasn't uncommon for Lucifer to just wallow in bed for an entire day. But now that your here, everything has changed. Lucifer actually has a reason to get up in the mornings again. He used to just go back to sleep and pretend the world doesn't exist.

He is a morningbird by nature, so he often wakes up before you. However, Lucifer hates leaving your arms and the cozy bed. So one of two things happens depending on how he is feeling.

If Lucifer is feeling good, or just particularly lovey that morning; he will pull you extra close to him and start kissing all over you. You'll wake up to the wonderful feeling of fleeting kisses and his smile on your skin. No better way to start the day.

As soon as he notices your awake, Lucifer moves to place quick, chaste kisses all over your face. All while asking, "How are you feeling, Ducky?", "Did you sleep okay?", "Have any fun dreams?".

Lucifer looks at you with the most adoring look in his eyes, desperate to snuggle and feel your skin on his. He wants to listen to you talk about anything and everything.

After awhile of cuddling and pillow talk, you have to be the one to convince Lucifer to get up. He will playfully whine and try to keep you in the bed, but he won't keep it up for long. Lucifer also cant wait to make you a wonderful breakfast and talk more while he cooks too~

Lucifer is a chatterbox when he wants to be. Especially with someone he loves. He basically wants to imbibe your entire being; that includes getting to know every random thought you have and every dark corner of your mind.

But if Lucifer feels the weight of depression weighing him down that morning, he simply snuggles deeper into you when he wakes. His grip on you tightens, and he pulls the sheets tighter around you two. Like he is building a cocoon or trying to shield you both from the outside.

Sometimes you can tell as soon as he wakes up that he is in a bad state. Instead of kisses, you are woken up by the trembling of his small form. Shaking with unshed tears and fresh pain from old wounds.

Lucifer clings to you desperately; the grip of his claws threatening to break your skin. You have to physically force him away from you just so you can look him in the eyes. Even then, Lucifer whimpers and tries to hug you tighter in protest.

He will begin to plead with you. Saying things like "Don't leave me" or "Please stay". You kiss him gently and bring him into your chest as he finally begins to sob. You two stay there for a long time. Lucifer is extra clingy that day. Attached to you at the hip and always holding your hand in his. His heart rate picks up and he starts to get frantic if your fingers slip out of his.

Mornings with Lucifer are overall just very slow. Meandering. Lucifer's safe place has become the bed since the heights of his depression, so he is reluctant to leave it. Some dark part of him feels that the longer he can keep you in bed, the longer he wont have to say an inevitable 'goodbye'.

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FURTHER READING ₊˚ ‿︵୨୧

Its a super silly idea, but I love >>THIS POST<< by @antiheroalastor where you find out Alastor has a extensive skincare routine.

Cute imagine by @voxisdaddy where Vox has to cuddle you to fall asleep can be found >>HERE<<

Then something more spicy, >>HERE<< are some ADORABLE Lucifer aftercare headcanons by @redr0sewrites. Rose writes the rambling, dorky, disaster Lucifer that I have envisioned in my head PERFECTLY.

[takumiraine]

Once Upon A Time chapter 4

<first> <prev> <next>

Danny should avoid him, because of his father. Danny should just brush him off and let him drown. Danny should keep his distance from anyone and everyone, but especially him.

Danny was never the best at doing what he should do, and worse, he was hungry.

—-

The cafe on campus was quaint, filled with light chatter and Jason was hating every second of it. Danny showed up just as he said he would, which meant he met Jason there, the man having already taken a back corner table for them. Danny walked up and set his books down. Jason had to wonder, did the kid not have a backpack?

“Any idea what you want?” Jason asked instead, standing. Danny looked over to the menu, eyes skimming it over.

“Uh… burger and fries okay?” Danny seemed uncomfortable. Jason would feel bad if it didn’t put him at the tactical advantage.

Jason nodded at his request. “The works?”

“Please.” Danny bit his lip and Jason waited, while he worked up the nerve for something, “and a coffee? Black?” Was that it? Jason almost rolled his eyes.

“Sure thing.” Jason went off to place the order and leave a hefty tip, because one, he wanted someone to bring it out and two he wasn’t that kind of asshole. He came back and sat on the chair he had been occupying, back to the corner, and resisted the urge to spread out.

Jason the Red Hood man-spreaded, Jason Todd-Wayne did not.

So he sat. And he rested his forearms on the table. “You do not need to look so nervous Danny.” Jason tried for the patented Wayne smile, certain he was coming up short.

“Huh…?” Danny turned to look at him, “oh, sorry. Long day.” The young man raked his fingers through his hair, pushing it away from his face. Jason knew it was a lie, but it seemed a familiar one. Danny tried to position himself so he could have the most visibility while drawing the least attention to himself. The position of a man hunted or used to being ambushed.

Danny refocused his attention after a moment, and looked at Jason, tilting his head slightly. “I hope it wasn’t a drain on your day to wait for me.” Jason waved his hand in response, the perfect practiced rich-bitch wave he hated.

“Nah, my friend works in the library on days when she doesn’t have class. I bothered her.” Danny seemed to relax a bit at the words.

“Oh good. I know I’m like… doing this for you, but…”

Jason cut him off there, turning the train of thought. “Speaking of, have you thought about what you want to be paid?”

“Oh… uh… not really. Most campus jobs make minimum wage right? Is that cool?” Jason wanted to throw Tim at this guy to teach him business sense in negotiation. If he really was 19, what had happened his whole life to make him feel like he needed to be invisible, while also walking away with a literal knife to the stomach and show up to class the next day?

“Most campus jobs do make minimum wage,” Jason agreed, “but nobody in my family is in the habit of paying just that. Just because I think my father is…. Well, words not fit for the polite company he insists I keep, doesn’t mean I’m going to stiff someone out of a well earned wage just to spite him. Twenty an hour is the lowest I’ll go.” He grinned now, all teeth, and something in him got a sick little thrill at watching Danny go even paler at the amount of money.

“Are you sure?” Danny asked, as their food and drinks were brought to them on a brown plastic tray.

“Say yes Dan. It’s a good deal.” Jason offered his hand to shake over the food.

Danny looked like he was offering his soul to the devil as Jason heard the man’s stomach rumble. “Okay. Yes.” Danny took his hand, and while the hand was ice cold, Danny shook with a surprisingly firm grip. Maybe the kid had a spine after all.

“Good. Now dig in,” Jason said after they parted. He picked up a fry off of his own plate and bit it, watching Danny with a sort of idle curiosity, as the boy - no, young man, went about his food with a carefully controlled gusto. Jason couldn’t help but wonder when the last time Danny ate was. He made a mental note to have Oracle check where he lived so he could do some recon later.

By the time dinner was finished, Danny seemed much more alive. His skin seemed to have better color, his eyes seemed more bright, and his energy was up. The kid was definitely going hungry if those changes were so immediate. Since Danny was scrawny, he assumed it wasn’t a new problem.

“So what makes math so difficult for you?” He asked, wiping his mouth and tilting his head. The question was blunt, but there was no open malice behind those bright blue eyes. The same kind of blue as his own when he wasn’t pit mad.

Jason shrugged. “Not really sure. It’s always been my weakest subject.” Not a lie. “Beyond money, my brain doesn’t seem to care.” Half a lie, but plays into the rags to rich bitch stereotype.

“I get that. I told you about me and literature right? For me it seems like there’s poetry in the way the math just… works.” Danny paused then, skin flushing red. “Sorry, that was…. Really stupid.”

In another life, Jason would have really liked this kid he thinks.

“No, not at all. Whoever told you your insights weren’t good obviously never stopped to listen to you.” Was he flirting? Should he be flirting? He flirted to maintain a cover or gain intel all the time. That’s all this was.

He almost missed the way Danny’s skin flushed deeper, from his ears down his neck. Almost.

“Well…. You’re in the minority then.” It came out a little bitter. He watched Danny take a breath and “Anyways.” Danny waved a hand, banishing the thought and something serious took over his expression instead. “I’m not going to take it easy on you just because you’re paying me. I expect you to put in the work too.”

Jason was right, the guy did have a spine. “Sure thing.” He waved his hand and stood, grabbing his bag and the tray. Danny stood and grabbed his books too. “Library?”

“Library.” Danny agreed.

Over the next week Jason was “surprised” to find out that they had three classes together. Math, Lit and Comp and History. All three remedial, and really the only one that Danny seemed borderline to deserve was the Introduction to Literature and Composition course. What he was genuinely surprised to find was that he enjoyed spending the combined nine hours of classes a week with the kid. Although in ‘basic mathematic principles’ Danny was quiet and allowed Jason to focus so they could work on their tutoring more effectively, in their history and English classes Danny was witty and sarcastic. A second thing he had noticed was that now that the tutoring sessions were happening, an hour, sometimes more, after every class, to make sure he ‘got it’, Danny was almost always eating.

Jason had learned that Danny’s ‘big life goal’ was a roof over his head, where his friends and family could visit or stay as they liked and room to tinker. A job that let him help people.

It was that information that made Jason fully convinced that even though he hated the Justice League with a viciousness that most rogues would balk at, for reasons he had yet to disclose, Danny was not really likely to become a rogue unless something big happened.

He should stop the college charade now. It was no longer needed for recon, and the other birds were starting to get suspicious. Bruce was looking at him differently too now. Something like how he used to.

A pen tapped on his notebook and Jason brought his attention back. Danny didn’t say anything, or even look at him, he was too busy sketching what looked like a circuit board in a secondary notebook. Jason quickly wrote down the notes before the slide changed, not looking forward to a disappointed look from his tutor.

Surprisingly, he ran into Danny as Red Hood once more that week. He was doing surveillance on a rooftop, when a sound caught his attention from the fire escape. Jason dipped back into the shadows and around the concrete and brick entrance from inside the building as a familiar mass of unruly black hair appeared and Danny hauled himself up with a surprising amount of finesse for someone who didn’t look muscular in the slightest.

“Damn it. Where’d you go guy? I thought I saw you land here.” Danny grumbled to himself, hands on his hips as he looked around “stupid not a bat disappearing just like the real ones…” While Jason was certain that he wasn’t meant to hear that, he finished his route and appeared almost behind Danny.

“What do you need?” He asked, thankful for the voice modulator as he knew Danny would have recognized his voice by now even if muffled by a helmet.

As it was, Danny startled with a yelp, swinging around and aiming a punch right for his solar plexus. Jason caught his wrist with practiced ease. “Fuck! Don’t scare a guy like that!” Danny yanked his arm back in a way that was meant to break unpracticed holds. Clever.

Jason waited while the kid caught his breath. “Well?”

“What? Oh. Uh. The guy. That…” Danny mimed the stabbing. “Is he okay?”

“Checked himself into the hospital about two hours later. He’s fine.” Oracle’s voice sounded in his ear. He nodded.

“Good, good…” Danny pushed his hair out of his eyes again, looking up at Jason through his helmet. Jason was hit with the disconcerting thought that somehow Danny was seeing through the bullet resistant one way visor. “Um… do you need the knife back? Or…. Should I….keep….it….? Or dump it? What’s…. I don’t know the protocol here, but I think ‘hey officer I was stabbed with this knife and the not-a-bat down in Crime Alley beat him up and then I accidentally stole it’ is a bad one.”

Jason snorted at the rambling, while Oracle laughed in his ear. “Even static filled he seems hilarious. I know why you like him.” He was going to kill Babs next time he saw her. “Knowing what he looks like doesn’t hurt either.”

“I can take it for you.” Jason said instead.

“Great! Wait here.” Danny turned and hopped back over the edge of the fire escape with the ease of someone who had years of training or practice.

“Is he like this all the time?” Babs asked, and Jason shrugged.

“Off and on.” Jason answered, sliding back down the fire escape completely silently as opposed to the obnoxious clatter Danny had made. He had seen and heard Danny move silently, like in the library, even on those creaky metal ladders for the top of the stacks, but he just assumed this was some sort of half assed survival mechanism.

Danny appeared again a few minutes later, with the knife wrapped in a towel in a bag. “I didn’t know how you wanted it so…” like Danny was bringing him coffee or ordering a pizza. Jason opened the bag and took the knife out, examining it.

“Good job kid. Now go home. It’s late.” It was barely ten. But he knew the Alley got more dangerous the later it got.

“Yeah. Okay.” Danny turned.

“Red Hood.”

Danny turned back. “What?”

“My name. Not-a-Bat isn’t as effective at striking fear into the enemy.”

Danny scoffed some. “I don’t need to use you as a shield.”

Jason held up the knife. Danny crossed his arms. “that was under control.”

“Right.”

“It was.”

Jason shook his head and pulled out his grapnel, firing it into the distance. As he swung off he had more questions about Danny than he was sure he would ever have answers.

[peachdues]

Work has been kicking my ass the last couple of weeks, so I haven’t really had time to write. This is all I’ve got for y’all right now 🤍

Lovers of Compass!Sanemi and Reader discussing books, rejoice. They’re still a couple of fucking nerds (no matter how horny)

It’s almost one in the morning when your phone buzzes.

A message; one from the only person you text, who also happens to be your favorite. On your screen is a picture of the front cover of the book you’d given Sanemi before he left the day before; beneath it, the chat bubble signals he’s sending a follow up.

You caught up yet? Sanemi’s text reads.

You toss your own book to the side, straightening up in bed. Though no one is around to see, a smile unfurls across your lips and your thumbs hurry across your phone’s keyboard.

How far are you?

Sanemi’s reply is instant. Halfway. Can’t finish tonight but I’ve got a few things I need to discuss right the fuck now.

You glance at the time. It’s nearing one-thirty, and your alarm is set for six. Dragging yourself out of bed after less than five hours of sleep is a kind of stupidity you know better than to indulge.

You hit the call button anyway.

Sanemi picks up on the second ring. “I’ve got five minutes,” he warns, voice low, like he’s wary of being overheard. “So if I hang up all of a sudden, it’s ‘cuz of work —“

“Hi to you too,” you tease, settling back against your pillows.

A pause. “Hey there, beautiful,” you can hear his smile even through the phone. “You okay?”

“Better, now that I hear your voice,” and you can’t even be bothered to be embarrassed by the cheesiness of the admission. Texting him is one thing; hearing him, actually hearing that wonderfully gravelly voice of his soothes a tension in your limbs you hadn’t realized you’d been carrying.

He’s okay. He’s unharmed — safe, even. For now, that has to be enough.

Sanemi’s laugh comes through the phone as a staticky exhale of breath. “Normally, I’d ask what you’re wearing, but I’m dead fuckin’ serious — if they don’t win this war —“

“Which battle did you get to?” You sit up, wracking your memory for the approximate place Sanemi has reached in his book. “Did the cadre reunite?”

“No, half of ‘em are still across the fucking continent.”

“Ohhhh, yeah. Okay. I know where you are.” You tug at a loose thread on your comforter. “I can’t say anything. You’ll just have to keep reading.”

“God dammit,” and you imagine he’s rolling his eyes, maybe even glaring down at the book in distaste. “Shit’s got me stressed the fuck out. I don’t know how she’s gonna wrap this up —“

You giggle as he launches into a rant over loose plot ends. Squaring the mental image of your boyfriend — the one currently ranting about the various loose plot ends to still be tied up in his current read — with the one you know must be sitting in some alley or warehouse, waiting to do things he’ll never speak of, feels impossible at times. But here, for this small moment, Sanemi isn’t a Hashira. He’s just a boy, spouting off theories and guesses as to his book’s ending with an almost childlike enthusiasm. Here, there are no orders to leave, no bruised knuckles or bloodstained hands he has to scrub clean in your bathroom sink.

It’s just you and him; your Sanemi. Your wonderful, gentle, sweet Sanemi.

“Ah shit,” he cuts his impassioned tirade off with sigh. There’s a rustling on the other end of the line, but it’s too muffled to be distinguishable. “‘M gonna have to go —“

Just like that, the moment ends and the smile you’d been wearing slides from your face.“Oh.” And you hate how small your voice sounds. “That’s okay — I’m glad I got to talk to you for a sec.”

The rustling stops. “Me too,” Sanemi says softly. “Fuck, I miss you.”

This is the part you hate most; the part when he has to stop being yours and go be theirs, no matter how much you know he doesn’t want to.

Your moments with him are pennies to the hours the Corps gets to demand. As long as they keep their claws in him, this will always be how your moments with him end: in abrupt, hushed voices, Sanemi’s shoulders sagging with a guilt he shouldn’t have to feel.

You grimace. This forced distance between you is bad enough, and you don’t want him to feel worse than he likely already does. You knew what you signed up for by telling him you loved him. You can’t be mad for getting exactly what you’d known to expect. And besides, your ire is reserved for the Corps and the Corps alone. Sanemi doesn’t deserve it. You can’t leave him on your sour note.

He’ll be yours again soon enough, even if only temporarily. That has to be enough, for now. Better to give him something to look forward to, rather than reminding him — and yourself — of what you’re both currently without.

“If you still wanted to know — I’m wearing your shirt. Only your shirt.” You smirk. “A thong, too. The lacy green one.”

A favorite of Sanemi’s, as he’d mentioned a handful of times. One that always set his eyes wide, made his tongue flick out to wet his lips.

Your distraction works. A strangled groan crackles through the phone. “You’re killin’ me, woman.”

[mischiefmaker615]

Intoxicated

Summary: Sex Pollen! (based off my Gif Skit)

Inspiration Song: "Nashe si chadh gyi" by Arijit Singh (song had to be translated) 

Requester: @GloriousLoki666 (wattpad)

Rating: R 

Note: been awhile since i wrote another sex pollen one shot Lol This was my FIRST

Loki held his breath while the tips of his fingers assured the bowl was set down without a sound. His eyes flicked once again towards the door- no sign of Y/N. finally being able to relax, he smiled down at the plate of chocolate chip cookies and knew the only thing left to do now, was wait.

Luckily, Y/N and Loki were the only ones in the tower for the day, so mistakenly pranking anyone but her was nearly impossible. It has been like this for weeks, both bickering and throwing dry comments at each other before the insults slowly evolved to more physical action.

Pranks. Cruel ones at that, and this time it was Loki’s turn for revenge.

Having to buy the cookies from the store- due to the fact that he was still learning how to make things himself- it also assured Y/N that there was nothing tampered with so she’s just have to eat one. Or so she thought.. magic was helpful when it came to avoiding hands on methods so a simple enchantment had been in order.

Simply consuming a single cookie would send her into a sexual overdrive, making her have to pleasure herself for about 24 hours straight to be sated. It had been merely an equal punishment he chose out when she had made many jokes about his sex drive in front of the team, making them think he couldn’t win over a woman and relied upon his hand half the time. Well she’d have to do just that for how she tried to humiliate him..

With a smirk, Loki turned to leave only to find Y/N herself scampering into the kitchen for her usual ‘sweet tooth’ o’clock time ritual, as she called it- basically looking for something sweet in between responsibilities she was stuck with around here.

Casting a glance over at him, Loki busied himself in the fridge, looking as distracted and disinterested as he could while he hoped she would notice the plate on the island counter.

‘’Thor went shopping again?” she asked, glancing at the plate while Loki looked over his shoulder, pretending to notice them himself with a raised brow.

‘’perhaps, or perhaps I made them.’’

‘’you made them?” she asked with a hidden scoff, closing the cabinet to fully turn around and inspect the cookies on the plate.

‘’indeed darling, I’ve been brushing up on my Midgardian skills around here and figured it might be best to offer it as a.. truce.’’ He told her gently, closing the fridge to turn to her, resting his palms upon the counter across from her while the plate sat in between them.

Y/N looked at him again skeptically before she dropped her gaze at the cookies, inspecting it as if it were a bug that shouldn’t be there. While distracted, Loki found his own eyes taking in her attire- she took advantage of the cozy work quarters of the tower and opted to where an oversized hoodie and shorts. Her hair was a bit messy, indicating she had been working for quite a while- laying on her tummy in bed no doubt, as he’s caught her many times. The brief feeling of movement in his groin at the thought had his brow raising and his eyes moving to see if it were possible before her words snapped him out of the impossible.

‘’bullshit.’’

‘’excuse me?” he said almost offended.

‘’I want to call bullshit, you might as well have put laxatives or something in there. unless of course.. you have a bite.’’ She said calmly, looking up at him with a challenged look in which he straightened and took personally.

Pranking was a delicate business and any sere hesitation could give away his position to make it real. As a slight amount of panic set in, he also told himself that with the amount of sex pollen he had put in for her body weight, couldn’t possibly be enough to affect his Asgardian form. So, taking hold of one between his thumb and pointing finger, his eyes made eye contact with her while he raised it to his lips.

His expression was unreadable yet his eyes held the same amount of challenge in her own while he bites down on a decent yet small bite. Not once breaking eye contact, he let a small smirk show while he chewed before he waved a hand at the rest of the plate. ‘’fair, darling?”

Her own lips pulled to a smirk and she shrugged, walking past him while her arm grazed his own briefly while he turned to watch her walk away. ‘’not hungry, maybe later.’’

His eyes glared at her while she walked away, finding his gaze slowly move down to her swaying hips while he tried to focus on hating her. with a tiny sigh, he looked back at the plate to debate on throwing them out before her scent seemed to catch his attention. Turning back around as if to find her coming back, he didn’t find her there. The sound of her door shut down the hall while he was left inhaling deeply with his eyes fluttering closed.

‘gods.. did she always smell like that?’ he thought, his body tensing to feel another twitch come from his cock and he dropped his eyes to it through the pants. Slight panic squeezed his chest while his eyes rounded and rose towards the halls.

‘oh.. Norns..’

~ 3o minutes.. 30 minutes and still no relief. He had been at it none stop and slumped panting against his door while his hand dropped to his side in defeat. How much had he enchanted it with? Surely not a lot.. it should have only been mild with her mortal body in consideration.. he was a god! It should have barely got him aroused!

His eyes closed with furrowed brows while another wave of arousal hit him. his body tensed and he could feel more beads of sweat come to his temples while his shirt stayed unbuttoned with the prayer of perhaps the AC finally turning on. He was practically raw and sore and nothing he had thought of had worked. He even tried several enchantments but the issue at hand made concentrating difficult.

The worse part is, he could still smell her..

He probably could have suffered an hour of this than find himself at her door. It be to humiliating and would only provide her more content to tease him more. Yet 24 hours would nearly kill a person, him anyway for despite her constant teasing involving a lacking partner, his libido was very much high at all times.

It was hard to find ones willing when all the saw was ‘the destroyer of New York’ first.

After the last 30 minutes of debating, he knew this hour had been the worst in his life and it was not going to get any easier the more time passed. In fact, sex pollen normally worsened the more one waited and didn’t leave the victim a pretty sight if they didn’t get relief.

Growling, he finally put himself away and straightened himself out, pausing now and again to regain his body once another wave hit before he could continue. He wasn’t even sure what he was wanting to ask her while he stood at her door and his hand hesitated to knock while his body buzzed. He had been severely aroused by the mere scent of her, she was most likely the one who’d be able to cure him.. theoretically.

With a gentle knock he almost regretted, the door opened to find Y/N with a surprised look and a step back.

‘’..you don’t look well..’’ she told him, quickly giving him a look over.

‘’I need your assistance.’’ He mumbled, looking literally anywhere else but her.

‘’the medicine is behind the mirror in the bathr-‘’

‘’not- like that.. I’m afraid it’s a bit more complicated than that..’’ Loki sighed, keeping his arms crossed while he shifted uncomfortably for more matters than one. By her silence, his eyes dared to look at hers just to find them quickly switching up from where they most likely had been staring at but she regardless stepped aside and let him in.

Stepping inside, he closed his eyes to make explaining a bit easier while she shut the door behind him. even with her behind, it was as if she were right in front with her scent more intoxicating as ever. His lips parted, trying to find words but had to take a moment to regain himself while he turned to look at her with guilt.

‘’..I may have placed a dose of sex pollen into the dessert from earlier in hopes you would consume one as revenge from your sexual remarks the other day. I wasn’t aware a bite would affect me and this.. issue will only subside after at least 24 hours. Nothing I have been doing has been successful at fixing it but the spell indicates that the one whom the victim favors could.. rid of it faster.’’

Loki’s eyes rounded a little, stopping short after hearing himself through his rant. Did he just confess? By her own rounded eyes, it would appear that he did while she stared at him in shock and parted lips. The silence made him shift a little, causing her to indeed switch her eyes down to the evidence he had in his pants and another wave of arousal came over him. taking a step back, he hunched a little while drawing in a sharp breath, looking timidly at her while her eyes seemed to harden and her arms moved to cross over her chest.

‘’after all this time... after all this time of your insistent torment and teasing.. you suddenly come to me for help??’’

His eyes lowered with guilt while his voice began to sound horse with strain, fists clenching at his sides while he made sure to keep looking at her. ‘’..this is important-‘’

‘’then make it important.’’ She snapped, eyes narrowing while she held on to the audacity of him actually trying to sex poison her. ‘’you got yourself into this mess, how exactly are you going to fix it-‘’

‘’I know you’ve endured a lot and that is my fault-‘’ a slight groan left his lips while his eyes closed tight, slowly causing him to sink to his knees in front of her while he sucked in a breath and kept his hands in his lap to at least try to conceal the obvious.

Her eyes seemed to have less hate towards him while they followed him down, clearly seeing him in pain while she hugged her arms and held her breath.

‘’but.. but I'll make it up to you.. all of it just- please.. I need your help..’’ he said with a low voice, exhaustion washing over his body while he shifted on his knees again at the pressure.

The sight of a knee in front of him had his eyes raise to find her kneeling in front of him, eyes looking almost out of pity and hidden amusement- which almost seemed to be just as bad as hate while he held his tongue and watched her. ‘’karma is a bitch, isn't it?’’

His jaw tightened and he knew she was going to take advantage of this- half debating on just taking the left over 24 hours to avoid this humiliation if walking didn’t seem impossible right now. ‘’..it is..’’ he ground out.

‘’and what have we learned?” she asked, almost to innocently while her other knee joined the floor and her hands rested on her thighs to mirror his position.

His eyes seemed to study her, cruelty and all. She was intoxicating, how mischief seemed to mask his own and he almost wanted to laugh at the end of all this on how it backfired on him. despite their sarcasm, he almost found himself looking forward to their bickering and debates, her facial expressions that changed and her hip sways she offered while walking away from her own deliverance. Even now by the mere memories, he had to stop himself from leaning forward right then and there while his nails dug into his palms by her scent.

‘’..a prank will sometimes backfire..’’

‘’what else?” she asked, her voice seeming to drop lower to a whisper while her eyes studied him.

‘’...to never get the pollen involved specifically..’’ he grumbled, knowing she was relishing his state yet she hinted with a promise at the end of all this, so he stayed put in his submissive position.

Y/N nodded by his answer, a slow hand reaching out to be placed against his manhood, making his eyes slowly close with almost a relived breath by her simple action. ‘’and thus, we have a.. big problem..’’

If his eyes hadn’t been closed, he would have seen her shocked gaze upon her discovery of his size. Her eyes dropped down while her hand began to paw at him, making him tense and shiver while he drew in another sharp breath.

‘’yes..’’ he answered, not exactly sure of the question anymore as soon as he felt her hand press against his chest and push him down onto his back. His palms flattened against the soft carpet below him while his eyes fluttered open at the sound of his zipper.

‘’I like you to Loki, and despite our ways and differences.. I’m glad you came to me for help..’’ she whispered, honesty surprising him while he raised his head and propped himself up on his elbows while she worked at freeing his erection.

‘’you do?-‘’ he nearly groaned while she wrapped her hand around him, his eyes falling closed while her eyes took in the mere size of him.

‘’I do.. even if you’re a pain in the ass sometimes..’’ she smiled a little and bit her bottom lip while her eyes dropped to watch what she was doing eagerly.

‘’I could be,’’ he offered with a teasing smirk, having her hold in a small laugh before she began to gently stoke him and immediately shut him up.

He slowly moved back onto the carpet, his fingers hitting the floor at his sides and curling into the fabric while her hand moved smooth and steady around him. ‘’fuck..’’ he moaned out, his voice breathy while he could already feel relief beginning to wash over him.

She couldn’t help but smile while she watched his beautiful face contort and his body squirm now and again. It was almost like a sense of power, being able to make a god crumble by merely her hand and it only urged her to stroke him faster. She could feel her own arousal hint between her legs, causing her thighs to press together while her thumb now and again ran against the tip and spread his pre-cum more onto his cock.

‘’gods Y/N.. you’re.. ‘’ he shuddered and felt his hips buck up into her hand now and again while he couldn’t even finish his sentence. She was amazing, skilled and beautiful in every which way. Even through the trials and turmoil she was still willing to help him. he even began to wonder when her attraction began towards him but he’d have to ask later.

‘’you’re so big..’’ she breathed, her inner thought speaking out loud while she still tried to believe what she was holding. Without missing a beat, she granted her wants and lowered her mouth onto his tip, flicking her tongue against him and earned a colorful curse word from Loki while he moaned his name.

‘’you feel amazing darling..’’ he breathed, a hand slowly moving to rest against her head, allowing her to set the pace but his fingers began to automatically curse into her silky hair.

She let out a hum, sending vibrations through him in which he bucked up again, making her move her other hand to his hip to try to keep him down while the other continued to pump him. now her mouth began to lower, sucking and licking at what she could take in while her hand covered the rest.

Old Norse language seemed to slip from Loki’s mouth, whispers and broken sentences while his brows furrowed and his body tensed. ‘’I’m almost t-there Y/N.. please- fuck..’’ he moaned, tightening his hold on her hair while he restrained himself from pushing her down.

Moving even faster, a moan left her own mouth while she stroked and sucked. There was a lot to work with and her thighs shifted frequently to relieve some of the pressure of her own between them until he felt his hand pushing her more down onto him.

‘’fuck- Y/N!” he moaned a curse, her name like music on his lips while he felt his orgasm crash and his hips bucked up into her on their own accord.

She eagerly drank him, gripping his hips tightly with both hands while she stayed where he had her. her legs shook and her eyes looked up at him as if she were drunk and pleased. Panting, he felt a tired grin tug his lips while he slowly let go of her hair and stroked her head, his hand falling down to caress her cheek before he felt himself soften a bit and she released him from his mouth.

His head laid down with exhaustion, relief enveloping him while he took in a deep breath and his body relaxed. ‘’thank you.. Y/N..’’ he said quietly while he felt her crawl up his body to straddle his mid-section, hands at his chest while she looked down at him with a pleased smile.

‘’were you really not hungry?” he asked with a small grin, hands coming to rest at her hips while she shook her head, remembering the cookies.

‘’I knew there was something up with them as soon as I saw them. The best part about baking, is the fresh smell it leaves and there was nothing to be found in the entire tower. So store buying them was the first hint, and knowing you, there had to be something else.’’

Loki hummed at his mistakes, wanting to kick himself for it if he didn’t feel himself getting hard again with her on top. This time it didn’t hurt and from her rosy cheeks, he knew she had noticed as well.

‘’you weren’t joking about your libido..’’ she teased, biting her bottom lip while she began to tease him with the rock of her hips and his lips tugged into a smirk at what she said next.

‘’I got something you could eat..’’

DM a song and/or Loki Gif for your own Musical Mischief one shot and/or Gif Skit :D

Tag List: @foxherder13 @asgards-princess-of-mischief @fire-in-her-veinz @nervouseden @kathren1sky-blog @eleniblue @lokiswife-dark-fox-queen @queenofstarsign85 @slytherinqueen4life @jadekillian

[im-not-samantha-im-samanta]

Jinx and Isha x Isha's identical twin reader [fluff]

"Team for life"

@ayedomino0 here you go, love

____________________________________________

Trigger Warning: I don't think there's any, just pure fluff which is unusual for me, but we all need it after act 2. Also I'm not used to writing for three characters at once, so this probably isn't any sort of masterpiece. I also think I may have subconsciously written reader as female, so sorry male and enby readers. This is also pretty fast paced. Also, I don't know what it's like to have a twin, but I hope I didn't write Isha and Reader as the typical twin stereotype shown in movies.

____________________________________________

"Alright, alright, Y/N, guess what time it is!" Jinx's voice rang through the room, making your heart pause.

No, hold on, it couldn't be that time already - you were so sure there were still countless minutes, hours separating you from this exact moment!

But as your wide eyed gaze darted towards the clock on the wall the reality was clear as day - it really was that time already.

"That's right, pipsqueak - medicine time!" Jinx called loud as she came into view, wearing a wide, rascally grin.

Her stance was dramatic and attention grabbing, a bottle of cough drops in one hand, a spoon in the other.

Then, as she went to get the substance onto the spoon, Jinx chirped up again: "Now!" but she ended up cutting herself off right away.

Her pink tinted eyes intensely focused on the drops dripping onto the spoon, carefully watching and counting the amount of drops you would be receiving.

When the right portion was on the spoon, Jinx visibly relaxed and her scatterbrained grin softened up.

"Now," she repeated before dramatically holding up the spoon as if it were some sort of trophy, "say hello to the cough drops express!".

Jinx's gaze then moved towards you, ready to treat your sore throat: "I know how much you hate these, so let's get it over with".

But the moment her eyes laid on you, Jinx halted in her movements and the playful grin fell off her face.

Jinx was so sure she was seeing double because instead of having two individually dressed twins, she suddenly had two identically dressed twins.

Both of them looking at her with the exact same puppy-eyed expression on their faces.

"As sly as a fox, eh?" Jinx commented and broke into a grin as she shook her head in disbelief at the situation.

Then she put her hand holding the cough drop bottle on her hip, smirking.

"okay, which one of you came up with this?" She asked and, still holding the spoon with your medicine, she motioned to you and Isha.

Neither of you spoke of course, nor did you give any sort of other reaction, both you and Isha just looked at Jinx with your two sets of golden, big eyes.

Jinx wasn't bothered by the lack of reaction though, nor was she really bothered by the situation - of anything, she honestly found it hilarious.

"Hmm," she hummed, pressing her manicured finger to her lips while still handling the cough drops bottle, pretending to be deep in thought.

"I bet it was..." Jinx paused, letting the tension build up as her pink eyes found yours and locked with them.

"Y/N," she grinned, the eye contact with you intense and making your heart stop for the second time today.

The way Jinx was looking at you sent shivers down your spine, and panic immediately settled in your chest.

You wondered whether or not could Jinx tell you apart despite all the effort you put into looking identical with Isha.

Your stance grew more uneasy and tense right away, not helping your cause at all - however, Isha jumped in for the rescue without a moment of hesitation.

In an blink of an eye, she quickly copied and matched your tense body language and anxious facial expressions.

The mirroring on Isha's part was flawless, although it was slightly harder for her to act this way and seem genuine - after all, between you and her, it was you that was the more naturally timid twin.

However, Isha was still quite naturally skilled in this sort of thing - plus this wasn't the first time you and Isha were pulling this sort of stunt on people.

So, executing the act on this part wasn't all too impossible for you and Isha - or more like Isha since she was doing most of the work in this particular situation.

But still, with the way Jinx was looking at you, you had a feeling she knew exactly, perfectly well, who was who.

And yet, whether or not was that nagging feeling correct was left as an unsolved mystery because Jinx either genuinely didn't know, or she's decided to humour you and the little stunt you were trying to pull.

"Hmm," Jinx hummed as she straightened up, her intense gaze leaving yours and fixing on Isha instead, looking her over as if trying to do her best to figure out which twin she was.

Unlike you, Isha's stance didn't falter in response to being studied like a small bug under a microscope - she was still perfectly mirroring how you were handling the situation.

Although you were aware that Isha still had this obvious bark to her, making her act of unease less authentic than yours.

But you couldn't really blame her because this kind of behaviour simply wasn't true to her personality.

You just nervously hoped that this simple fact was this much obvious to just you and your sister, and not Jinx.

"Well, I have to give it to ya," Jinx commented after giving you and Isha one last once over, "you two really are sneaky,".

In response, you and Isha exchanged a look, both of you smiling in your own unique way, pride swelling in your chests at your schemes being acknowledged and even appraised.

In that moment, you and Isha felt like you have successfully outsmarted Jinx and won this little game that you have found yourselves playing with the older girl.

Jinx smirked then, looking at the two of you with amusement, and also some hint of pride at how much work you two put into making your silly plan come to life.

Really, the two of you truly did everything possible to look like flawless copies of one another, it was hard to tell you two were two different beings - Jinx was quite impressed.

Though Jinx had a certain advantage over the two of you, an advantage she's not told you about because she simply didn't have the heart to - or maybe she just liked having an advantage.

After all, the two of you could be quite the handful at times - so, any sort of advantage over you was valuable and useful.

Anyways, that advantage was that Jinx was detail oriented, and over the time she's spent with you and Isha, she's noticed things that helped her tell you apart.

For example - and it wasn't too noticable, but your smiles tended to be soft and timid, while Isha's smiles were bolder and more pronounced, with her front teeth usually slightly peeking out from under her lip.

Jinx loved the both of your individual smiles - she adored all that made them differ, but also all that made them similar if not the same at first glance.

Jinx's smirk then softened into something warmer, something fonder, as she added: "and... you two really do stick together, like true sisters...".

Her voice was softer than usual, and so was the look on her face - the way she looked at you two was almost wistful, like she wished she and Vi could have what you two shared so seemingly effortlessly.

However, just as quick as that gentle expression of Jinx's came, it was gone just as quick, replaced by that playful, mischievous look Jinx was so known for.

"Alright, I have an idea for a game," Jinx gave a wicked grin and right at that moment, you and Isha became alert once more, losing the smiles on your faces.

You were somewhat more tense than Isha, of course, since, you were the one supposed to take those disgusting cough drops, not Isha - she was just playing along with your plan.

"it's called: Let's wait to see which one of you starts coughing and reveals which one of you is Y/N. Sounds fun, no?" Jinx tilted her head, her braids swinging some.

At that, you gave one horrified look to Isha, which Jinx didn't miss, but also didn't comment on - she felt like prolonging the small game that you had going on.

She was having lots of fun with this, and she wanted to know how far the two of you would be willing to take this - or more like, how far would be Isha willing to play along to help you get out of having to take your medicine.

Then, as if on cue, you felt that irritating, scratchy sensation building up in your throat, and your brows furrowed as you tried to hold back the incoming coughing fit.

And, sending Isha one last desperate, pleading look, you suddenly broke into a fit of harsh, pained coughs.

Much to your joy, Isha got you covered - once again, she didn't hesitate and matched your actions, beginning to fake as equally bad coughing fit.

And Jinx? She just watched your two's antics with amusement - you two really were something for sure.

But, Jinx also secretly felt envious because Isha really had your back no matter what the situation was.

And Jinx's thoughts momentarily drifted back to Violet, quietly wondering if it really was that hard to stick up for a sister that you hold dear.

But Jinx pushed those thoughts aside, forcing herself to focus on the present and what she currently had - not the past and what she didn't and couldn't have.

"Well damn," Jinx grinned playfully when your and Isha's coughing came to a halt so that both of you could catch your breath, "whatever can I do with you two?".

"Seems like you two won this round, I can't give Y/N her medicine without the risk of giving it to Isha," Jinx announced casually, her hand that was holding the cough drops bottle returning to rest on her hip.

And exhaling dramatically, she, just to egg you on a little more, added in: "guess I'll have to throw in the towel after all."

At that proclamation, your teary eyed gaze - the result of your bad coughing fit - lit up, filling up with hope and sheer excitement.

You couldn't believe it - Jinx was actually giving up and you wouldn't have to take that gross liquid!

A joyous grin appeared on your face, and you and Isha shared a victorious fist bump - however, your excitement and victory were all short lived.

Because Jinx's next words were: "That... Or, I could give the cough drops to the both of you, just to make sure I got the right twin,".

Both your and Isha's faces fell then, and finally, Isha didn't have to pretend to be horrified anymore because she genuinely became uneasy at the suggestion.

Isha herself knew how disgusting was the taste of those cough drops, and she would much rather eat some of those questionable foods the weird vendors in Zaun sold than take that medicine.

"Yeah, that's not such a bad idea," Jinx nodded to herself, appraising her own train of thought with a wide, satisfied grin.

"I mean, think about it - for Y/N it's to treat her sore throat, and for Isha it'd be precautionary, a just-in-case!" she thought out loud, swinging the spoon with cough drops around.

And, facing the two of you once more, Jinx smirked and held out the spoon as she asked: "What do ya think, Isha? Want some of these yummy cough drops?".

In response to that, all the loyalty Isha held for you was gone, and she frantically shook her head in disagreement with a light, panicked squeal, pointing at you and ratting you out.

Yep, she threw you under the bus, making you feel utter betrayal which you - metaphorically - voiced by gasping and glaring daggers into your sister.

But Isha only sent you an apologetic smile and made a circling motion with her fist over her heart to tell you a casual sorry.

She didn't look too sorry though because her face showed clear signs of relief upon being spared from having to consume those dreaded cough drops.

At Isha's half-hearted apology, you reacted by sending her another glare, one that didn't need any words to get across just what you were thinking: traitor.

Meanwhile Jinx, who was watching the whole exchange chuckled and kneeled down to you, her expression amused yet gentle as she cooed: "Don't get all too mad at her, kid,".

"you would've ended up taking the drops in any case, I knew who was who all along." she smiled gently, making you pause and look at her with wide, surprised eyes.

"Yeah, I knew the whole time which one was Isha, and which one was you," Jinx confirmed what you were silently thinking in your head "I was just playing you.".

To that delivered claim, you crossed your arms and frowned, acting all upset and offended that Jinx would make such a fool of you like that.

But Jinx only gave a hearty laugh: "Hey, it was you who was trying to play me first - you started it! Serves you right, you little sneaky rat!".

"So, don't get all mad now that your little stunt came back to bite you in the ass," she sassed you in a light-hearted tone, smiling fondly at you and making you fume more.

But sensing your attitude, Jinx eased up on her mean spirited yet no harm meaning taunts: "But, tell you what, you take your cough drops now, and...".

She trailed off, seeming to be thinking of what to offer you so that you'd be willing to call truce between the two of you.

"and I'll let you eat cookies before dinner, deal?" Jinx offered, making your frown immediately disappear and get replaced by a content smile and an eager nod.

And Jinx grinned proudly in response: "Alright, ma'am, seems like we have a deal," and holding the spoon to your lips, she added: "hurry up then, or the cookies might grow legs and run off.".

You giggled at those words, and finally more willing to take your medicine, you opened up your mouth for Jinx to give you those cough drops.

But before Jinx could even think of pressing the spoon against your lips, Isha stomped against the ground to bring your and Jinx's attention to herself.

When both of you directed your gazes towards Isha, she was standing there with crossed arms and an expectant look.

"Seems like someone wants cookies before dinner too," Jinx noted, her expression showing she was clearly entertained by Isha's bold attitude and cheeky antics.

With a grin, Jinx slowly looked up, rolling her eyes to pretend to think as she mused: "But I dunno... do you even deserve cookies after ratting out your sis?".

Then her gaze drifted towards you once more, and Jinx questioned: What do you think, Y/N, should Isha get some cookies after backstabbing you?".

You then looked at Isha, and the girl gave you the biggest puppy dog eyed expression she could muster up, her hands clasped together in a begging manner.

To that, you pursed your lips and pressed a finger against them, pretending to be considering whether or not you thought your sister should get a sweet treat after what she's done.

But, of course, you could never stay mad at her for too long, and you caved in, looking at her with a smile before turning to Jinx and nodding in agreement to her question.

And Jinx smiled softly at you, feeling some sort of warmth in her chest that you were willing to forgive your sister and allow her to share simple joys with you.

"Well, alright then!" Jinx called right after, her energy amped up again, "seems like the council has decided to take pity on you and grant you mercy, Isha!".

Jinx sent a grin Isha's way, making the girl perk up and smile eagerly at the prospect of being allowed to join you and have a cookie or two before dinner.

You joined in with a soft smile of your own, making eye contact with your sister and wordlessly letting her know that you two were still a team for life.

[greengoblinswifey]

we desperately need more sub!nicholas please like not even inexperienced just maybe you punishing him (sexually) for staying out late or flirting with another girl in front of you 😁

summary— you punish nicholas for coming home late in the best way possible.

warnings— pure smut, sub!nicholas, bondage, hand job, degradation, praise kink, edging, overstimulation, face sitting, gagging, use of sex toys, protected sex.

a/n— i love dom!nicholas but sub!nicholas awakens something in me🤭

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿

It had started earlier in the day, when he mentioned he had an interview scheduled with his female co-star for GQ. Of course, you’d played it cool, brushing off that familiar pang of irritation you always felt when he worked closely with women in the industry. It wasn’t jealousy, not exactly, you trusted him. Nicholas had never given you a reason not to. He was as sweet as they came, always coming home to you with stories of his day, his eyes lighting up like a kid showing off a drawing they made. He adored you, and you knew that.

But you also knew how these things could go. The media was relentless, pairing him with every beautiful actress he worked with, spinning stories of secret romances and undeniable chemistry. You’d roll your eyes when you saw the headlines, but deep down, it always left a bitter taste. You hated how they tried to chip away at the image of your Nicholas, the loyal, goofy, golden boy who brought you coffee in bed and left love notes on the bathroom mirror.

Still, you’d let it go this morning. It was part of the job, you reminded yourself. Nicholas had kissed you on the forehead before he left, promising he’d be back by evening. “I’ll order you take out and we can watch a movie,” grinning like the whole world started and ended with you.

But evening came and went, and your sweet Nicholas was nowhere to be found.

At first, you’d been concerned. This wasn’t like him, he always checked in, even if he was running late. But as the hours ticked by with no texts or calls, concern gave way to frustration. You checked your phone repeatedly, half-expecting it to buzz with an explanation, but it remained silent.

By the time the clock struck midnight, your patience had worn thin. He’d better have a damn good excuse, you thought, sitting on the bed in nothing but your lingerie. You weren’t usually one to go full dominatrix, to an extent, yes, but tonight? Oh, tonight Nicholas was going to learn that you weren’t someone to take lightly.

Nicholas knew he was in trouble the moment he stepped into the house. The stillness in the air was off, almost as if it had been waiting for him to walk through the door. He dropped his bag near the entrance and hesitated before heading toward the bedroom, his heart hammering. He already knew you’d be upset—of course, you would. He’d said he’d be home hours ago, and not even a text had been sent to you. That wasn’t like him, and he knew better than to leave you hanging.

As he pushed the bedroom door open, his breath caught in his throat. There you were, sitting on the bed, wearing nothing but a black lace set of lingerie that hugged every curve of your body. The soft glow of the bedside lamp illuminated your skin, and his eyes darted to the items laid beside you—a roll of tape and a pair of handcuffs. Nicholas swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing visibly as he realized just how much trouble he was in.

“You’re late,” you said, your voice dripping with controlled irritation.

He glanced at the clock on the wall and then at you. “Uh, it’s—“

You cut him off sharply. “I didn’t ask what time it was. What time you were supposed to be home?”

“Seven,” he mumbled, his voice sheepish. He looked like a boy caught sneaking out past curfew.

“And what time is it now?” you asked, tilting your head as if daring him to lie.

“M- midnight,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. He already knew where this was headed.

“And why the fuck,” you began, your tone firm and unyielding, "are you just now walking through the door?"

He stuttered, fumbling for an explanation. “I—I lost track of time. There was an after-party, and, uh”

“I don’t give a fuck about your after-party,” you snapped, rising from the bed. Your presence was commanding, and Nicholas froze as you walked toward him. “You think you can just waltz in here hours late without a text or a call and everything will be fine? Do you know how worried I was? And did you forget my rules?”

“I’m sorry,” he said quickly, his words tumbling out in desperation. “I really didn’t mean to—“

“Save it,” you interrupted, holding up a hand. “You don’t get to apologize and think that fixes it. You’re getting punished tonight.”

Nicholas’ eyes widened, flicking nervously to the handcuffs on the bed. He wasn’t sure whether to feel excited or terrified—or maybe both. “Punished?” he asked, his voice trembling slightly.

“Yes,” you said simply, stepping closer until you were inches away from him. “You need to learn to respect my time. Do you understand me?”

He nodded quickly, his golden retriever-like obedience shining through even now. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Good,” you said, your lips curving into a wicked smile. You reached for the tape and handcuffs, holding them up for emphasis. “Now, be a good boy and do exactly as I say.”

Nicholas’ breath hitched, and he gave a slight, nervous chuckle. “You’re really mad, huh?”

You raised an eyebrow, unamused. “Do I look like I’m joking?”

He immediately shook his head. “No ma’am. No, you don’t.”

“Then shut up and get on the bed,” you commanded, your voice firm but teasing. He obeyed without hesitation, stripping himself of his clothes, knowing full well he’d walked right into this.

“Whatever you say,” he murmured, his voice low. “I’m all yours.”

And tonight, you intended to make sure he remembered that.

He sat down on the edge of the bed, his eyes flicking nervously between the handcuffs in your hand and your face, which held an expression he couldn’t quite read. You didn’t give him much time to think about it, though, you pushed him back, flat against the mattress, and before he could say a word, his wrists were locked in place, cuffed to the headboard.

He tugged at the restraints instinctively, testing their strength, but it was no use. His hands were pinned, leaving him completely at your mercy. His breathing was shallow, his chest rising and falling as he looked up at you, his eyes momentarily replaced with something more vulnerable.

“You look scared, Nicholas,” you teased, leaning down just enough to let your hair brush against his flushed face. “Don’t tell me you’re afraid of a little punishment.”

“I— I’m not,” he stammered, though the way his Adam's apple bobbed suggested otherwise.

“Good,” you said, straightening up. “Because the least you can do is make me feel good after keeping me waiting all night. And don’t even think about touching me. You’ve lost that privilege.”

He swallowed hard, his jaw tightening as he nodded. “Of course. Anything for you.”

You climbed onto the bed, your knees straddling his chest as you moved up, slowly and deliberately. His eyes tracked your every movement, dark with anticipation. By the time you hovered over him, his breaths were coming out in short, uneven bursts.

“Don’t disappoint me, Nicholas,” you said, gripping the headboard for balance as you lowered yourself onto his mouth. His reaction was immediate, a muffled groan that sent a shiver up your spine as his tongue began to work.

He didn’t hesitate, his mouth moving against you like a man starved. The way he devoured you was almost frantic, his tongue lapping and flicking as though he were trying to prove himself worthy of redemption.

“That’s it,” you murmured, your voice low and commanding. “You’d better make me cum, or you’re really not going to like what happens next.”

He whimpered in response, a muffled sound that only spurred you on. His efforts grew more fervent, his tongue moving in rhythm as you tightened your grip on the headboard, your knuckles turning white.

“Is that all you’ve got?” you taunted, your voice sharp. “You’re supposed to be my good boy, but you’re making me wait to cum.”

His muffled protests only made you smirk, and for a moment, you almost felt sorry for him. Almost.

Finally, the pressure built to a breaking point, and your orgasm overtook you, leaving you breathless as your body trembled. Nicholas slowed down but didn’t stop, his tongue gentle now, coaxing every last ounce of satisfaction from you.

When you finally pulled away, his face was flushed, his lips parted and glistening as he looked up at you. “Was I—was I your good boy?” he asked, his voice hoarse, almost pleading.

You laughed, a short, sharp sound that made him flinch. “You think one good deed is enough to make up for tonight?”

He blinked up at you, unsure whether to answer.

���Nice try,” you said, leaning down to press a finger to his lips.

You moved down his body slowly, watching as his chest rose and fell, his breaths coming in short, uneven gasps. His arousal was painfully obvious, cock hard, standing at attention, twitching with need. It almost looked unbearable, and the sight made you smirk.

Your fingers grazed the tip, soft and teasing, and he flinched, his whole body tensing as he let out a shaky exhale. His hands strained against the handcuffs, the metal clinking against the bedpost.

“Please,” he whispered, his voice tight, almost breaking. “Please, just—just put it in your mouth.”

You laughed, a low, mocking sound that made his face flush deeper. “Put it in my mouth?” you repeated, tilting your head as though the suggestion was absurd. “You don’t get to demand anything, Nicholas. Have you forgotten where you are right now?”

“I’m not—I wasn’t demanding,” he stammered, his words stumbling over each other in his desperation.

“You’re talking too much,” you said, reaching for the roll of tape on the bed. His eyes widened as he realized your intention, but he didn’t dare protest. The second you placed the tape over his mouth, his muffled whimper made your smile widen. “That’s better.”

You let your fingers trail back down, brushing over his dick with deliberate slowness. His hips jerked involuntarily, a muffled groan escaping through the tape. You wrapped your hand around him, squeezing just enough to make him shiver, and started moving—slow, teasing strokes that barely gave him relief.

It didn’t take long for him to unravel. His breathing hitched, his head pressed back into the mattress as he squeezed his eyes shut. His thighs trembled under your touch, and his muffled sounds became more frantic as you worked your hand on his thick cock.

“You’re so easy to break, aren’t you?” you said, your tone dripping with amusement as you let your thumb brush over the sensitive tip. He twitched under your touch, leaking and red, his body betraying just how badly he needed release.

Nicholas whimpered, his hands thrashing against the restraints, his whole body straining. His muffled noises were growing louder, more desperate, and you could tell he was close. His legs were trembling, his hips lifting slightly as though chasing your hand, and then, you stopped.

His muffled groan was almost a scream as his hips fell back against the bed. His protests were incoherent, his head turning to look at you with wide, pleading eyes. His face was flushed, a deep red spreading across his cheeks and down his neck, and he looked so utterly wrecked that you couldn’t help but laugh.

“Oh, poor baby,” you teased, sitting back on your heels as he writhed beneath you. “Did you really think I’d let you off that easy?”

He groaned again, his frustration clear even through the tape, and you leaned down, brushing your lips against his ear. “Don’t worry,” you murmured. “We’ve got all night.”

Leaning over to the side table, you retrieved a small vibrator, holding it up for him to see. His eyes widened, and he shook his head slightly, his muffled protests intensifying. You chuckled, running your fingers lightly over the toy, switching it on so it buzzed softly in your hand.

“Oh, don’t act so scared, baby,” you teased, trailing the buzzing tip along his inner thigh. His body jolted at the sensation, a strangled whimper escaping him. “You wanted this. Didn’t you just beg me to make you feel good?”

He shook his head furiously, his muffled words barely audible, and you laughed at his pitiful attempt to escape. “No? Then what’s this?” You let the vibrator skim over his shaft, just for a second, and he groaned loudly, his hips bucking toward the sensation before you pulled it away.

“Look at you,” you said, your voice soft but taunting. “So needy. So desperate. I haven’t even touched you properly, and you’re already falling apart.”

Nicholas’ legs shook as you teased him, running the vibrator up and down his shaft in the lightest, most maddening touches. His head thrashed against the pillow, muffled groans and high-pitched whimpers spilling out of him. His whole body trembled, his hips involuntarily jerking toward you, but you didn’t give him what he wanted.

“Stay still,” you ordered sharply, and he froze, his body tense as though trying to obey. You rewarded him by pressing the vibrator against the sensitive tip, holding it there for just a moment. His muffled cry was loud, his back arching as his hands clenched into fists above his head.

“You’re such a mess,” you murmured, dragging the toy down to the base and back up again, keeping the pressure light. “So greedy for it. You’d do anything to cum right now, wouldn’t you?”

He nodded desperately, his eyes locking onto yours as if begging for mercy. But you weren’t done. Switching the vibrator to a higher setting, you pressed it against him again, keeping your hand steady as he thrashed beneath you.

“Ah, ah,” you cooed, placing a hand on his stomach to hold him down. “No running from me, baby. You wanted this, remember?”

Nicholas’ muffled cries grew louder, his hips grinding helplessly against the toy as you worked him over. His entire body was trembling, his legs shaking violently as he edged closer and closer to release.

And then, just as his body tensed and his muffled whimpers turned to desperate pleas, you pulled the toy away.

The sound he made was almost heartbreaking, a loud, frustrated cry muffled by the tape. His head turned toward you, his eyes glassy with unshed tears, his expression pure desperation.

“Poor thing,” you said mockingly, trailing your fingers down his thigh as he quivered under your touch. “Did you really think I’d let you finish? You haven’t earned it yet.”

Nicholas let out another muffled groan, his body writhing against the bed as he tugged weakly at the restraints. His voice cracked as he tried to plead, his eyes filled with a mix of frustration and desperation.

“You’re going to take whatever I give you,” you whispered, leaning down to kiss the corner of his jaw. “And you’re going to thank me for it when I’m done.”

Switching the vibrator back on, you pressed it to him again, starting the cycle all over. This time, you added your free hand to the mix, stroking him lightly, alternating between teasing and stopping entirely. His muffled cries turned into broken whimpers, his body trembling violently as you pushed him to the edge again and again, only to deny him every single time.

“You’re so pretty like this,” you murmured, watching as his face flushed a deep red. “Completely at my mercy. Just the way I like you.”

By the time you finally stopped, he was a wreck. His chest heaved, his body glistening with sweat, his eyes glassy and unfocused. You smirked, leaning down to press a soft kiss to the tape over his mouth.

Reaching over to the nightstand again, you retrieved another toy, a sleek, silver vibrating wand. His eyes widened at the sight and you switched it on, the low buzz filling the room as you trailed it slowly down his chest, letting it rest against his hip bone before dragging it even lower.

“Look at you,” you teased, holding the wand just above where he wanted it most, his cock. “You’re shaking like a leaf. Is this what you want, baby? Is this what you need?”

He nodded frantically, his hips jerking up in an attempt to get some friction, but you quickly pressed him back down with your hand. “No, stop,” you scolded, a grin spreading across your face. “I’m in control here.”

You moved the wand closer, letting the vibrations graze the sensitive base of his cock. He let out a muffled cry, his head tipping back against the pillow as his entire body tensed. His hips bucked again, but you kept your hand firm on his stomach, holding him in place as he writhed beneath you.

“You’re so desperate. You wish I’d let you cum, right?”

He nodded again, his eyes glossy with tears as he met your gaze. His muffled pleas were incoherent, but you could feel the desperation radiating from him. You chuckled, dragging the wand back and forth in agonizingly slow motions, keeping him on the edge without letting him cum.

“Poor baby,” you cooed, pressing the wand harder against him for just a moment. His muffled moan was loud, his body arching off the bed as he was on edge. But before he could finish, you pulled it away entirely, laughing softly as he let out a frustrated cry.

“Not yet,” you said sweetly, brushing a strand of hair from his damp forehead.

Tears slipped down his flushed cheeks, his hands pulling uselessly against the cuffs as he begged through the tape. You tilted your head, pretending to consider before reaching for a condom from the nightstand.

“Don’t look so hopeful,” you teased, tearing the foil open. “You’re not getting everything you want. You don’t deserve that.”

His eyes widened as you rolled the condom down over him, and you grinned at his pitiful expression. Usually, you didn’t bother with condoms, letting him feel all of you, but tonight was about punishment.

You climbed onto him, straddling his hips, and his muffled whimper sent a thrill through you. Slowly, you sank down onto him, taking his hard and leaking cock inch by inch. His eyes fluttered shut, his head tipping back as a deep moan rumbled in his chest.

“Eyes on me,” you ordered sharply, and his gaze snapped back to yours, wide and desperate. “I want you to watch. Watch what you can’t touch.”

You set a brutal pace, riding him hard and fast, your hands gripping his chest for balance. His muffled cries grew louder, his body trembling beneath you as he struggled to keep up. You leaned down, your lips brushing against his ear as you whispered, “Don’t you fucking dare cum.”

He whimpered, his eyes glistening as he nodded quickly, his entire body shaking with the effort to hold himself back. “Good boy,” you said mockingly, sitting back up and continuing your relentless movements. “I bet you wish you could feel my pussy raw. Don’t you, baby? I bet you wish you could touch me, squeeze me, hold me.”

Nicholas nodded frantically, tears spilling from the corners of his eyes as his muffled sobs filled the room. “Pathetic,” you muttered, your nails digging into his chest as you rode him harder. “You’re so needy. So desperate. It’s almost cute.”

You felt your orgasm building, your movements growing erratic as you chased your own pleasure. When it finally hit, you cried out, your body shaking as you collapsed forward onto his chest. Nicholas let out a muffled sob beneath you, his head tipping back as he stared up at you with a mix of awe and desperation.

“You’re so beautiful,” you heard him mumble faintly through the tape, his voice trembling. You laughed softly, brushing his damp hair back as you caught your breath.

“That’s right,” you murmured, leaning down to kiss his jaw. “And you’re lucky I let you have any of me at all.”

Catching your breath, you turned around to face the opposite direction, giving Nicholas a perfect view of your ass. His muffled whimpers grew louder when you started bouncing on him again, the sound of your ass meeting him filling the room. His body was trembling beneath you, his hands pulling helplessly at the handcuffs, and you could hear the muffled desperation in his voice.

“You sound so pathetic,” you teased, glancing over your shoulder at him. “I bet you wish you could touch me right now. Squeeze my ass the way you love to and slap it. Isn’t that right?”

He nodded frantically, his eyes wide and filled with tears as you wiggled your hips, grinding down on him just enough to make him cry out behind the tape. “Please!” he begged, the sound muffled but unmistakable, and it only made you grin wider.

“Poor thing,” you mocked, riding him harder now, your nails digging into the bed as you steadied yourself. “You can��t even handle me, can you?”

His muffled groans turned into full-blown sobs as you felt the pressure building inside you. You arched your back, your own moans spilling from your lips as the intensity became too much to hold back. With a sharp cry, you came, your body shuddering violently as you squirted, the sensation leaving you breathless. Nicholas let out a muffled sob beneath you, his head tipping back against the pillow as his entire body trembled.

“You’ve been such a good little fuck toy for me,” you said, your voice still breathless as you turned to look at him. His cheeks were damp with tears, his eyes pleading as he stared up at you. “Do you think you’ve learned your lesson? Do you think you’ve earned it?”

He nodded rapidly, his muffled voice frantic as he tried to answer. Reaching back, you peeled the tape off his mouth, and he gasped for air before the words started spilling out in a rush. “Yes! Yes, please, I’ve learned my lesson! I’ll never be late again, I swear! Please, please, I need to—“

“Shhh,” you interrupted, running your hand over his chest to quiet him. "You’re talking too much again. Beg for it. Show me how much you want it.”

“Please,” he begged, his voice cracking as he looked up at you with desperation in his eyes. “Please, baby, I’m so sorry. I’ll never be late again. I’ll do anything—anything you want. Please let me cum. I need it so bad, please.”

You hummed, pretending to consider his words as you kept moving your hips, the pace slow and deliberate now. “Hmm. I guess you’ve been good enough," you said, leaning down just slightly. “You can cum now, baby.”

The moment the words left your mouth, his entire body tensed, and a strangled moan ripped from his throat as he finally let go. He practically exploded into the condom, his orgasm hitting him so hard that tears spilled from his eyes. His head tipped back, his mouth open as he whimpered loudly, his voice breaking as he cried out, “I’m your good boy! Yes, I’m your good boy! Always for you!”

You smiled, brushing your hand over his chest as you eased off of him. “That’s right,” you murmured, watching him tremble beneath you. Reaching down, you removed the condom, tying it off and tossing it into the trash. His chest was still heaving, his hair sticking to his damp forehead as he blinked up at you.

“Are you— are you gonna take the handcuffs off now?” he asked, his voice hoarse and trembling.

You let out a soft laugh, shaking your head as you stood and stretched. “Oh, I don’t think so,” you said, your tone light and teasing. "You’re staying just like that for a while.”

Before he could protest, you disappeared into the bathroom, leaving him cuffed, breathless, and utterly wrecked as he stared at the ceiling, the sound of your laugh echoing in his ears.

[moonchild701]

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Making a Bad Day Better

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[NSFW] ‼ 18+ >MDNI<

Summary: Touya had a bad day at work. You make his day much better.

Pairing: Dabi/Fem Reader

Content Warning: Fluff, Smut, Blowjob, Deepthroating, Facefucking, Cum Marking, Touya is NOT a villain, No Quirks AU

Word Count: 2k

Disclaimer: Character belongs to Kohei Horikoshi

A/N: Had 💫thoughts💫 of taking Touya's stress away from a shitty day at work and now we're here 💕

My Masterlist

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Touya's had a shitty day that day, almost nothing going right.

His only consolation throughout the day was knowing that he gets to go home to his gorgeous girlfriend.

And when he gets home, and you're not there yet, his mood drops and stress spikes.

He flops down onto the couch, head thrown back over the back of it, closing his eyes with a weary sigh.

Hopefully, you don't take too long to come back.

*****

You thankfully come back within a half hour, announcing your pressence. He blinks his eyes open to peer back at you, over the couch, and you can see the toll the day's had on him.

You drop off your things before walking over to him, standing behind him to slide your hands over his shoulders. "Rough day?" You ask the obvious, kneading your hands into his shoulders. He relaxes, melting into your touch, and sighs.

"You could say that again." He mutters, looking up at you, upside down. "Missed you. Bit better now." Your heart flutters in your chest.

People always question you on how you could stand to be with an asshole like Touya, and time and again, you shut it down, because you could never fathom otherwise. Because sure, to others, he can be an asshole, but he can also be so fucking sweet; and you love him, and you know he loves you too.

You lean down, pressing a kiss to his lips, and murmur against him,"I missed you too, baby. I love you."

And he sighs into you, whispering, "I love you too," before languidly kissing you back, softly, slowly, sweetly.

He loves you so impossibly much, basking in the warmth of your love, and maybe the day isn't all that bad.

You pull away slowly, fingers caressing his Adam's apple. "You need anything?"

And by the grin on his face, you know something absolutely cheesy is going to come out of his mouth. "All I need is you, Sweetheart." You roll your eyes playfully, even as you feel your heart stutter, unable to hide your smile at the sap. "But I think I'd like some whiskey?"  His smile is now sheepish, and you shake your head with a soft laugh, giving him one last peck before pulling away.

"Sure, baby. I'll get it for you."

You go to the kitchen to get the bottle of whiskey and a glass with some ice, before coming back, walking around the couch to set the glass on the coffee table, pouring him two fingers.

You feel his gaze on you, and you feel a shiver run through you at the heat held within.

"Stop looking at me like that." You mumble, glancing up at him, before quickly looking back at the bottle as you screw the cover back on, heart pounding.

His eyes squint in amusement, narrowing into slits, sharp and hungry. “Like what?” he murmurs, an edge of teasing and heat in his voice as he adjusts in his seat, legs spreading almost on their own, as if to wordlessly invite you in between them.

And oh is it an inviting sight; the top three buttons of his shirt undone, showing far too much of his chest, sleeves rolled up to show his forearms, his watch glinting from the light of the setting sun, and his slacks tight and straining over the muscles of his thighs in this position; his white hair artfully disheveled, falling softly above smoldering azure eyes.

You bite your lip as you stride back over to him, handing him the glass. He takes it with a murmured thanks, sipping at the amber liquid, and his eyes don't move from your frame.

"I think I need something else, Doll." His voice is low and hot, and you immediately feel heat coiling in your abdomen.

You swallow thickly as you look at him. He pats his thigh, murmuring, "C'mere, Dolly."

You crawl into his lap, straddling his thighs. He rubs at your hip with his thumb as you lean in to kiss him languidly, cupping his jaw, before trailing your lips along his jaw, up to his ear, ghosting along it.

"Let me take care of you, baby?" You whisper, pressing a light kiss just under his ear.

He hums low in his throat, pulling you back to capture your lips once more. You lick into his mouth, tasting the whiskey and something sweet, before trailing open mouthed kisses down his throat and chest, unbuttoning his shirt as you go.

He leans back with a sigh, basking in your ministrations.

You climb off, stripping off your shirt, and stepping out of your pants, leaving you in just your underwear. It's plain and practical, nothing fancy, yet his eyes still rove over you like a lion would its meal.

You slide down to your knees, between his legs, rubbing at his inner thighs. You press a kiss to his clothed bulge, before undoing his belt and pants, slipping his hardening cock out of its confines.

He props his elbow against the back of  the couch, his gaze locked on yours over his glass as he takes a sip, watching you lick a wet stripe up his shaft before taking him into your mouth and hollowing your cheeks, sucking on him.

Feeling his cock firming and growing under your attention, and knowing that you're the cause, never fails to send a tingle of pleasure up your spine.

Fully hardened in your mouth, he twitches. You lave along the velvet skin, drooling around him, coating it in your saliva.

He lets out a pleased sigh as you run your tongue just under the head, groaning softly when you suckle on it.

Pulling away with a wet pop, you press open mouthed kisses down the shaft, laving and slurping at his balls, suckling at the base of his cock, before kissing your way back up.

Wet slurps and cursed groans fill the apartment, drowning out the soft clink of ice against the glass held loosely in his grasp, arm draped along the back of  the couch,

You wrap your hand around his girth, pumping him slowly, your saliva making the glide smooth and sloppy, while the other massages his balls, fondling and lightly squeezing, as you trace every vein with your tongue.

You pull off momentarily, pressing a kiss to his tip as you lock your gazes, licking up the pearl of precum beading there, before relaxing your jaw, sinking down, swallowing all of him into your mouth, feeding him into your throat, drawing out a breathy curse from him.

With your nose pressed to the tuft of white curls, you breathe in the heady scent of his musk, feeling your neglected cunt pulse and drip in need as your eyes roll shut.

You gag as you try to swallow around the thick head, tearing up at the shallow breaths you can barely take as you try to breathe through your nose.

Petting over your head with his free hand, tucking stray strands of hair behind your ear, he coos, voice a strained growl, “You look so pretty choking on my cock, Dolly.” His eyes are hot on you, pupils dilated to just turquoise rings around amorous pools of black.

Peering up at him, you moan around him at the praise, the vibration making his cock twitch as he let's out a soft groan.

He adjusts in his seat, making sure he has the perfect view of you sucking him off, and he knows he truly will never tire of the sight.

You, on your knees for him and him alone, lapping and sucking at his cock like it's the best thing you've ever tasted, looking up at him like he's your god, eyes glossy and reverent, pupils dilated; pretty lips swollen and stretched around him, his cock, wet and glistening with your saliva, disappearing into your hot mouth, over and over again as you slowly bob your head, twirling your tongue around the tip everytime you come up.

The sensation makes his hips twitch up before he regretfully gets himself back under control. 

And that just won't do.

You pull of with a filthy squelch, hand pumping him slowly, and you murmur, "Mm, fuck my throat, Tou. Please?" Your voice is airy and pleading, your pupils blown.

His eyes darken, jaw clenching. "Fuck, baby. You sure?" And he's truly so sweet for still asking, even when you clearly want nothing more, but you can hear it in his voice how much he also wants to. How strained it is.

"Mhm" is all the answer he gets as you take him back into your mouth, looking up at him expectantly; pleadingly. And who's he to deny you?

He feels something in the back of his mind snap, as his stomach and brain do flips, and he knocks back the last of his whiskey, before carelessly tossing it onto the coffee table.

Your lips are wrapped around just the middle of his shaft when you feel the weight of his hand on your head, fingers gently grasping onto the strands, and he shoves your head down to his pelvis.

You let out a moaning, muffled mmf at the aggression, welcoming it, deepthroating him without complaint. He's thick, and you do love the way he fills every part of your mouth.

He uses his hold on your hair as leverage, moving your head up and down to take his length, his hips rocking up into your mouth, and your cunt aches for contact. You love when he loses his control, using you as he pleases.

Your tongue laves along his shaft, swallowing around him every time he sinks into your throat, drooling and moaning around his thickness, messy and hazed; desperately chasing his pleasure, wanting to taste him.

Showing some mercy, he pulls you up and off for air, and you gasp, trying to inhale deep breaths. The sight of your flushed face, drool dripping out of your mouth makes his cock twitch. A line of saliva connects your swollen lips to the tip of his cock like no part of you wants to be apart from him, from his dick, and Touya wants to ruin you. Wants to fuck your throat raw.

Gripping the sides of your face in a deceptively tender hold, he quickly shoves you back down, starting to relentlessly facefuck you.

Your moans intertwine with the lewd slurping and gagging noises you make, Touya's cock hitting the back of your throat with each brutal thrust.

You feel him twitch harshly in your mouth, and his nails bite into your scalp, pulling you off of his cock just as he cums hard. He lets out a strangled groan, his hips jerking up and a shudder runs through his body as he paints you white; the thick, sticky spurts of cum splattering onto your cheeks, your waiting, lolled out tongue, dripping down your chin, and onto your heaving chest, trickling down between the cleavage of your tits.

For a moment, you thought it wouldn't stop. There's so much, so thick, and you wonder just how pent up and stressed he was.

You pant as you still try to catch your breath, licking up the mess he made of you off your fingers, wiping and scooping up globs of it where you can.

His white shirt is transparent where it sticks to his sweat slicked skin, chest heaving for breath as he comes down from his high, pushing the damp strands of his hair back from his forehead, eyes shut, lips parted in a blissful smile.

You feel a fresh wave of slick sliding down your thighs at that, and then cerulean eyes are on you again, hot and hungry as he takes in the image of you marked so thoroughly by him.

He grins wide, slow and sharp, licking his teeth like a beast would its chops.

"Let's go get cleaned up, yeah Sweetheart?" His voice is low and gruff with lust, and from his tone and the look in his eyes, you know you're going to be absolutely filthy by the time he's done with you.

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[rebelssvy]

obsessed part two

bokuto x reader

(afab. this is the most comfortable i write in. i try my best to make it as gender neutral as possible and not give any description of the reader. lmk how i can do betterrrrrr)

- authors note: you guys really liked part one. so abt to write a SINFUL part two ☺️☺️☺️

part one -link here!

LABELS: smut omg smut. i’ve never written anything smut so don’t judge pls 😩😩contains, making out, oral sex, sex.

walking to school the next day was a pain. bokutos mind was filled with the guilt of what had happened last night.

he jerked off to the girl in his class, who he still has yet to talk to.

ashamed was an understatement. he was embarrassed and felt inhumane. it was even worse because the problem still hadn’t gone away. he still thought of you in the worst ways. he couldn’t help himself.

closing the distance between him and his class room, his eyes narrowed in on you. the guilt was overwhelming. but you looked so cute in your uniform.

entering the classroom he groaned to himself. sitting down at his assigned desk, putting his hands over his face to try to hide his frustration.

he just liked you so much that it was truly embarrassing. he was bokuto koutarou! one of the top aces in high school volleyball. no girl should have his attention like this.

i am not a man, he thought to himself, hands still covering his face.

“ahem…” he looked up at the person trying to get his attention.

to his absolute shock, you were standing right infront of his desk.

“hi…” you said to him waiting for a response…. the response never came as bokuto just looked up at you mouth agape.

“i didn’t know you were so shy!haha” you try playing off to make it less awkward. his silence seemed to be maybe a message for you to just walk away. and yet you stayed begging for his presence.

“well i’m yn, and i didn’t know if you noticed but we have a partner project in this class…. and we were paired up yesterday…. and before i could figure out a plan with you, you walked out of class before i could talk to you yesterday.” you felt yourself ramble on for what seemed like far to long. his silence was draining.

from what you heard from most people, your schools ace was a huge standout. most calling him extroverted, crazy and annoying.

but right now he sat infront of you saying not a word.

finally he spoke up “oh..” he said. that’s literally all he said.

you stayed for a little longer, watching his face grow into a friendly smile.

“it’s nice to meet you yn! i’m so sorry i didn’t even realize we had an assignment together!! HAHA well don’t worry we can get it figured out. also sorry about yesterday i just rushed off to practice without a second thought” bokutos voice boomed throughout the class room.

you let out a sigh of relief. maybe he was just waking up still? but he sure does seem awake now..

“we can only work on the assignment out side of the school hours…. if your comfortable with it you can come over to my house tonight and we can work on it.” you say smiling down at him.

bokutos prayers have been answered. everything he has ever worked for is being rewarded back to him now.

“yes.!” bokuto replied without hesitation. smile still beaming up at her.

“here’s my number, text me after this class gets out.” you say to him. stealing his phone and saving your contact in his phone. you were a little forward. bokuto was practically gushing.

with that you walked back to your desk and started talking with your friends.

bokuto was so happy he could scream.

the day went on, after you two had agreed on a set time for him to arrive at your house he was counting down the minutes.

he would have to come over after he practiced, meaning he would also have to go home to shower before hand.

it gave you more time to get ready before he made it to your house.

secretly, you had been honing a crush on bokuto for awhile now. when your teacher announced that you two would be in a group together you were thrilled. but when you looked over to bokuto, he seemed… upset.

his face was hard to read. it was a mix of tired, guilt, and anger. you chose to not introduce yourself to him until class was out, not wanting to make a fool of yourself. but before you could he had already left.

that’s why you were so nervous. he was so big, not just tall. that man was beefy. in all the right ways. and you couldn’t even tell if he liked you at all.

of course you would glance at him time to time in class, even showing up to some of his games in previous years. you noticed him.

analyzing yourself in your mirror. checking the time ever so often.

you had taken a shower, got out of the shower and did all your duties to look the best you could. sporting yourself in a way you were most confident.

also going to the measure of cleaning your room. everything had to be perfect.

before you new it your doorbell rang. you rushed to the door, opening to a freshly washed bokuto.

he had on grey sweats and a black hoodie. his hair was still a little damp from his shower, so it wasn’t spiked up in its usual manner. his bangs clung to his forehead.

“heeeLLO” he said to you voice getting a little louder as his word continued.

“hi” you said to him while still looking him up and down. it was a little obvious you were checking him out.

you quickly let him in and gave him a tour of your home. making a mental note to leave your bedroom for last. making a b- line for your kitchen you offered him somthing to drink.

his presence alone was enough. he was just soo huge. you felt his gaze after every corner you took.

“uh yes water is fine.” he said, way more calm.

you got him a glass and sat on your counter top. he was infront of you leaning his back on your cabinet.

as he drank he held a comfortable eye contact with you.

“how was practice?” you spoke up.

he reached forward and put his glass next to you, then leaned back to his formal position.

“i did way better then i did yesterday i can say that much.” he said with a chuckle. his voice was low. deep.

“what happened yesterday?” you asked.

he seemed a little taken back from your question. but it was only a second of that expression that was followed with a smile.

“oh i just didn’t do my best. my teammates say i get in my own head sometimes but even my worst is not that bad soo” he said with a low chuckle again. his grin never really left his face.

he was confident in himself that was forsure. you thought you should atleast see where you stand with him. gathering up all the confidence you had to flirt with him just a tinyyy bit.

“oh so you must be gooood.” you say leaning forward a little, still perched on your counter top. you made sure you arch your back a little, even though he couldn’t see it from where he was sitting. you applied the action anyways.

bokutos ears perked up a little. he sure did love flattery.

“i mean, yeah. i’m pretty good.” he said non chalantly. leaning forward a little more as well.

“tell me bokuto, how good are you?” you asked. leaning just as much as you could without falling off the counter top.

“oh i’m pretty good. but i can’t tell you how good i am… it’s something you have to experience yourself.” he said, smug. grin still on his face.

as he spoke he had stopped leaning against your counter top.

he got closer to you, your heart beat picked up. he then picked up his hand, reaching out.

just as you thought he was going to touch you, he picked up his glass beside you. blushing your thigh in the action.

he picked up his glass and finished the rest of his water with a gulp.

smug bastard. you thought to yourself.

you then got back onto your feet and started walking out of the kitchen. bokuto taking that as his note to follow behind you.

you silently led him to your room. anticipating whatever came next.

as you waked bokuto stared. he stared at your ass, your hips, your waist. anything he could look at he took a mental picture of.

this could be the only time he was this close to you. he thought.

opening the door to your room you, you showed him around.

“you can sit anywhere your comfortable with, but i did get an extra chair for you at my desk.” you say to him. going and taking a seat next to the school work you had already laid out.

bokuto was taking in everything. your posters, your decorations, anything you had in their he was saving in a file in his brain.

he finally sat down next to you.

you started going over the project, he would follow your words with some “hmm” or “ook” but overall he didn’t seem very into it.

all bokuto could think about is you stuffed full of his cock. really it was a shame. you were talking to him and that’s all he could think about. he watched your lips as they instructed him. that’s all he really watched.

“bokuto.” you said in a firm voice.

“are you even listening?” you said to him slightly annoyed.

“uhh yea…” he replied guilt sinking in once again.

he was evil. he wanted you. he felt as if you had just teased him in the kitchen too. he wanted to get you back. bad.

he licked his lips. confidence surging through him for a second. he opened his mouth to say somthing.

but the words never came. blush flooded his face. you probably think he’s stupid at this point.

“you are so pretty.” he said quickly. it came out of nowhere. he didn’t even mean to say it. he was so embarrassed!

but there was no way you were gonna know how embarrassed he is. no, bokuto koutaro never gets embarrassed!

you stare back at him. confused. but to all honestly. you were aching for him. his frame so close to yours, made you painfully aware of how big he was.

and he just called you pretty. what even in your next move! what are you supposed to say to that!

“y/n…” he said quietly. it was soft. he had gotten closer to you then you realized. you could feel his breath on your lips.

“bokuto…” you whispered back to him. the distance was painful.

before you could register he had his lips on yours. closing the gap. you locked your lips with his. it was just a quick kiss. romantic if anything.

you two pulled away. staring him in the eyes, there was a hunger.

“i need more” he said before grabbing you cheeks and closing the distance again. you were shocked. this must be a dream.

your hands found his body. scooting as close as you could without falling off your chair. one of your hands found his bicep. the other on his shoulder.

the kisses grew hungrier. his pace picked up. you gasped when his hand found your thigh. it was a comfortable position.

he took this chance to slip his tongue into your mouth. you purrred against him.

your touches grew with sexual tension. you parted for a second to catch your breath. a line of saliva connecting you two.

“c’mere” he said scooting his chair back alittle. signaling you to get out of your chair.

you stood up waiting further instruction.

he reached up and grabbed your hips pulling you closer to him. he was still seated, legs apart.

you felt like you were on fire. his eyes took in all off you. his hands rubbed your hips. even going a little farther to pinch at the fat of your ass.

“wanna sit on my lap?” he said tilting his head to the side. you shook your head and slowly made your way to his lap. you were positioned so you could face him.

his hands cradled you, finding your curves.

“you think i’m pretty?” you said to him bringing your hands to his jaw.

“you have no idea.” he breathed out.

finding his lips again except the tension in the room was now thick. you were growing a pool in your panties. every touch of his fingers was doing numbers to your core.

without knowing it you slowly started to grind yourself against him. you only noticed when you felt bokuto grow underneath you. his hands moved to your ass. grabbing at it.

then his hands slowly fell even farther. coming concerningly close to your core.

“y/n…. can i…?” he parted quickly. out of breath begging you for more.

“yes bokuto.” you moaned out to him. still grinding your hips against him.

“do whatever you want” you moaned out throwing your head back. you were growing needy.

without any words bokuto grabbed you and picked you up. putting you down on the bed.

your back was on the bed with your legs folded to your chest. he had ahold of your shins.

he was standing above you grinning like a kid in a candy shop.

“i’ve been waiting for this.” he stated.

his fingers graced over your core, you sucked in breath.

“you have?” you whimpered out.

“i have liked you for quite sometime. i have even dreamt of doing somthing like this too you. y/n… you have no idea.” he said while taking off your pants. you were left in only your underwear. then he started working on your shirt, pulling it off over your head.

now being left only in your bra you felt very conscious of everything.

“fuck…” he said to himself seeing you drenched through your panties. this was truly his dream.

“can i?” he said before continuing.

you shook your head yes.

he touched your clothed core with a certain grace. seeming like he was afraid to hurt you. you moaned out at his touch.

your ass was almost off the bed when he slowly came to the ground squatting on two knees.

you soon realized what he wanted to do.

“bo… you don’t have too” you said painfully, when al you really wanted was his tongue on your cunt.

“i want to.” he said before stuffing his face into your core.

you still had your panties on but the friction was just too much. you moaned out back arching for him.

he was hooked. he circled anything he could with his tongue, even taking breaks to kiss your stomach. he finally took your underwear off.

staring at your naked core he was in love. he wanted to be the only man to ever see you like this.

experimentally he blew on it, seeing your body react and you moan out. he loved his life.

diving back into you he licked all of you. slurping up your juices, sucking at your clit. taking every angle he could to make you feel good.

“more…” you whimpered out.

he brought his fingers up to your hole without warning. he played with our rimming a finger around your clenched spot. sticking it in you he stucked on your clit simultaneously.

you moaned out. it was really too much. your core was building up at a fast rate as his finger pumped in and out of you.

he stoped and stood infront of you again. you looked up at him wondering why he had to hault your pleasure.

he took off his hoodie and sweats leaving himself in just his boxers.

and oh. my. god. he was wonderful. he was everything you could ever dream.

“bokuto… i need you.” you told him.

he was on fire right now. you were sprawled out on the bed, cunt for his to see.

“fuck… you drive me insane.” he said pulling his boxers down to free his length.

“oh my god” you moaned out. it was huge. there was no way that was going to inside you. his one finger did the job, so what is that thing even going to do to you.

“cmon baby you can take me.” he said lying down next to you on the bed. you crouch up on your knees.

“ride me.” he demanded.

you positioned yourself on top of him. grabbing at his his abs as you mentally prepped yourself for what was gonna be inside you.

slowly you reach down for his cock. he had already been stroking it.

you touch it and he lets in a sharp gasp of air. you give it a good couple pumps

“hah” he moaned out. you had kept eye contact the hold time you entered him in you.

lowering yourself as best you can. his face was of euphoria.

“bokuto… your tooooo big hah” you moaned out to him.

“call me koutarou” he gasped out.

you found the strength to get him in you. bottoming out you clenched around him.

“fuuuck kou” you moaned out. you started grinding yourself against him.

it was the best pain you had ever felt.

“your beautiful. oh my god.” he said as his hands found your boobs.

pulling your bra down and bringing his lips to your hardened nipples.

your back arched for him. you moaned out louder and louder.

bouncing against him. this was all he ever wanted. he was in heaven.

you felt that familiar coil in your core tighten up again.

and bokuto could tell. he felt your walls clench around him as your threw your head back.

before he could think about it he changed positions. throwing you on your back and into a missionary position.

he took it to himself to start pounding into you.

“kou… nnnits too muchhch” you moaned out. it was almost hard to hear because of the sound your pussy was making.

“cmon. you can take it” he grunted out, slamming himself into you.

you moaned more. eye contact the whole time he fucked you.

the way you clenched around him was almost painful. but he could tell you were close.

he brought his fingers to your sensitive bud.

“cum for me. come on baby you can do it.” he grunted.

“come on my cock.” he grunted even more.

you were so close.

“your mine, understand?”

that sent you have the edge. you clamped around him spasmsing through your orgasm.

bokuto barely pulled out in time to cum on your stomach.

“i’m yours im yours im yours…” you babbled off to yourself.

fuck.

you were both drained.

who ever thought this is where you would be.

he got up to get a tissue for you to wipe you off. then coming over to press a kiss to your forehead.

“i’ll be right back” he said he before he left.

he came back with some water and helped you up.

“what’s going on?” you asked still faint from your orgasm.

“i started a shower for us!” he beamed at you.

yep. he could definitely be the one for you.

………………………………………………………………………………….

- WOWWWWW WHAT DID I JUST WRITE! this is my longest and still some of my first works i’ve put out. well i hope you like it also. comment any ideas you guys have for me!

[midnighthazee]

Greenridge ABO Series

a/n: This chapter is not for the faint of heart.... grab your wine or chamomile tea and buckle up!😰

Series Masterlist Masterlist

Warnings: Angst, Fluff, violence, mentions of past rape/trauma, explicit language, SMUT, 18+ MDNI, aggression, rough sex, creampie, marking/biting, pet names, somnophilia (if you squint)

WC: 5003

Chapter 10

It was the next morning, Chan and his betas were back at the Ahgase house ready to have breakfast. He hoped to create a lasting friendship with this pack, learning from them and being a more patient and fair alpha like Jaebeom. Maybe he was being too reckless, Jaebeom’s suggestion of talking it out on his mind all night. Was he being too impulsive? Maybe talking would be an easier way to solve this problem.

 “You sleep at all?” Seungcheol asked Chan with a chuckle.

“Not really.” Chan forced a smile.

They knocked, the door swinging open and an energetic Jackson bringing them into a big hug. “So good to see you guys. Come in.”

They followed him in, through the house and onto the back deck. The deck was elevated to the second story, overlooking the yard below. The treeline and mountains were an inviting view as they stepped outside. There was a large table out here as well. It looked to be a marble slab with metal railings in a zigzag formation supporting it. There were also fourteen chairs, metal framed with a cushion and curved back.

Jaebeom and the rest of the pack were at the table already, chatting amongst themselves when they stepped outside. Jaebeom smiled warmly as they entered.

“I figured it was such a beautiful morning, we could enjoy the fresh air while we eat. Please…. sit.” Jaebeom said. “We have mimosas and breakfast is on the way.”

Once everyone was seated, Jaebeom stood. “Here’s to our alliance. To new friendships and brotherhood.”

“Here’s to taking down that bastard of an alpha.” Yugyeom snickered.

They all raised their glasses in a toast, sipping the mimosas. Jaebeom sat down as the ladies from last night brought out breakfast dishes and placed them on the runner decorating the center of the table. There were several gourmet options, Hyunjin and Jisung practically salivating at the sight. 

There were eggs benedict, bananas foster belgian waffles, lemon blueberry scones, buttermilk pancakes, smoked sausage, apple maple bacon  and seasonal fruit. It was just as luxurious as the dinner from yesterday.

It also tasted just as good, the boys definitely eating too much. Jisung’s cheeks were so full the whole time as they conversed through breakfast. It was a lovely meal but unfortunately the time had come to part ways, Chan wanting to get back home.

“We will definitely have to invite all of you over for dinner as a thank you soon.” Chan noted.

“We don’t wanna impose on your omega so make sure you ask her first.” Jaebeom says, nodding towards Chan.

“Of course. But I’m sure she wouldn’t mind. And please bring your omegas with you too. I think it would be good for y/n.” Chan insisted.

“That’s a great idea. We will have to set that up.” Seungcheol smiled.

“I will wait for your invitation.” Jaebeom said with a smile. 

“Me too.” Seungcheol pointed his finger at him. “And don’t forget to email me that document when you get home.” “I won’t. You should have it by four. If not, I might have gotten distracted so just call me.” Chan stated.

Jaebeom nodded and off the two packs went. They got into their respective cars and pulled off, heading back home. Chan sent a text in the group chat before pulling off.

Hey. Alliance secured! On our way back. 

We should be home in a couple hours!

Jisung texted too:

How’s y/n?

They were nearly an hour into their drive, Hyunjin was playing DJ, rapping along to the songs, while Jisung played his video game. They only had a few hours left, but Jisung complained he had to pee. Chan reluctantly pulled over at the nearest rest stop and let him. Chan took the opportunity too, Hyunjin having gone before they left. After a couple minutes, they were back on the road, driving towards home on the local highway.

“Jinnie, babe, are you trying to put me to sleep?” Chan asked.

“No.” Hyunjin smirked. “Don’t like classical music?”

“Not while I’m driving…and tired.” 

“I can drive and you rest.” Hyunjin offered.

“It’s fine. I just wanna get back home. Then I can rest”

Jisung snored dramatically from the backseat.

“Yah! I’m changing it.” Hyunjin glared, making Jisung laugh.

The music changed from a piano lullaby to an upbeat, bass booming song. Chan drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, singing along.

“Better?” Hyunjin asked, scratching the back of Chan’s head briefly.

“Yes.” Chan smiled, eyes focused on the road.

“Better, Ji?” Hyunjin shot daggers at him

“I guess.” Jisung shrugged, making Hyunjin roll his eyes.

CRASH!

Glass shatters, pieces flying everywhere as the car is jerked sideways. The car swerves, flipping one… two… three times before landing upside down in the ditch on the side of the road. The underside of the car smoked a bit as it creaked and settled. A dark van, coincidentally being the only car on the road, squealing to a stop. Five large men climbed out, hurrying over to the car.

Inside, Chan groaned, looking over to his betas. They all were hanging upside down, superficial cuts from the glass decorating their skin. The car was bent and crushed, glass shards and fragments of metal littering the roof.

“Hyunjin? Jisung?” He called out, coughing as he reached towards Hyunjin.

“Mmm….what happened?” Jisung muttered from the back, his hand going to his head only to find a trail of blood near his hairline.

“I don’t know.” Chan looked over at Hyunjin. “Jinnie?”

Hyunjin didn’t answer, unconscious as the seatbelt held him up.

Chan hurried to undo his own seatbelt, dropping to the roof. He winced but reached for Hyunjin, feeling a heartbeat in his neck. He breathed a sigh of relief when suddenly his door was forced open. Two men pulled him out, sticking a needle in his neck before he could realize he wasn’t being rescued. He shook from their hold, landing a punch to one of the men before his body went limp and they carried him over to the van.

“Chan! Chan!” Jisung yelled, trying to undo his seatbelt but it was jammed.

Two more men were pulling out Hyunjin, making Jisung squirm in his seatbelt. He was fighting against the restraint as he tried to save his mates. Three more came over to his side and pried the door open. It didn’t give easily, the frame bent out of shape. They had to use tools but eventually got it open.

“No. Get the fuck away from me.” Jisung growled.

The men just laughed, one reaching in quickly to slice the seatbelt. Jisung dropped to the roof but before he could gather himself, they also stuck him with a needle. His body too went limp and they dragged him from the car.

Carefully turning around to see Minho, you see him resting, small snores coming from his mouth. You attempted to slip away but his hold tightened. You tried to remain calm and peel his arm from you. He groaned, shifting as he slept. Looking at the nightstand, the clock informed you it was half past ten. The rest of the boys were probably eating breakfast or about to.

You tried again once more, but this time he opened his eyes. He looked at you, breathing in your smell and smirking. He leaned forward, kissing your cheek and down your neck.

You tensed and whispered, “Minho?”

With all the resolve he could muster, he pulled back.

“You should go. Before I lose control.” he whispered.

“It’s your rut, isn’t it?”

He nodded, eyes squeezed shut. 

You fully turned around to face him, his face twisted as if in pain. You caressed his cheek, and his face relaxed. His eyes opened, a deep honey color to them, as they looked into yours. You don't know if it was his scent clouding your better judgment or the fear of making him mad, but you didn’t leave.

“Y/n…please. I don’t know how much longer I can hold back. I don’t want to hurt or scare you.” Minho whispered, the restraint evident in his voice.

“No.” 

He looked at you wide eyed.

“As your omega, I should help you.”

“It’s too soon.” Minho sat up, trying to clear his head. 

“I am still getting over everything they did to me, yes. But I care about you all so much. I don’t want you in pain or suffering if I can do something to help.” You said, resting a hand on his shoulder. “You’re my pack now. I didn’t get to help Jeongin but I can help you.”

“Chan should be first to lay claim to you. He’s the head alpha.” Minho says, looking straight ahead.

“But you need help now.”

Annoyed, Minho abruptly got out of bed. 

“I know you care for me. And because you do, you won’t hurt me like the Nykos did. At least let me take the edge off.”

“No. Go get Felix or someone.” he practically growled.

You stood up and walked over to him, resting a hand on his upper arm. “Minho…please let me-”

He cut you off, pushing you back into the wall and pinning your hands on either side of your head with a growl. Startled, you let out a little squeal. Your heart began to race and you grew nervous of his next move as felt the heat radiating off his body. 

“See. You’re afraid.” he stated.

  You could feel his breath on your face as you were engulfed in his rut scent. God he smelled so good.

“I don’t…” he trailed off, releasing you.

“Minho..” you say in a small voice.

“I don’t want you to hate me.” His voice was barely audible.

“This is my choice. I’m choosing this. I would not hate you for this. Please Minho…” you say, reaching up to stroke his cheek. 

He sighed heavily, leaning into your touch. “I’ll try my best to be gentle.”

You smile up at him, melting his tough exterior. He smashes his lips onto yours, lifting you up. Your legs wrap around his waist as you make out. His tongue pushes past your lips, dancing with yours as he deepens the kiss. You could feel the warmth going straight to your core.

Of course you were nervous and scared. You had never had a good experience since it was always forced on you. This time, however, felt empowering since it was your choice. You were still worried how he would act but he was your soulmate so it shouldn’t be awful, right? Not like the other hybrids who used you and were extremely rough, not caring about your well-being.

Minho laid you down on the bed, quickly ripping off your clothes. He kissed you hungrily, trailing down your neck and attaching his lips to your nipple. You gasp, it felt amazing. You had them bitten and yanked, but never sucked and the feeling had you floating.

He sucked both buds before kissing lower, down to your core. The other hybrids never went down on you, not caring about your pleasure. If they wanted a taste, they briefly used their fingers. So when Minho swipes his tongue through your folds, collecting your wetness on his tongue, you moan.

Your moan excites him, his throbbing dick twitching in his boxers. He was definitely happy to be the first to show you how sex should be. He licked and suckled, prodding your hole with his tongue. Your juices were so sweet - the sweetest he’s ever tasted. He slurped and circled your clit, making your back arch.

You had cum a few times, just enough to know when it was about to happen. And right now, Minho had you already about to snap. Your hand found its way to Minho’s hair, and you tugged in the effort to ground yourself. He groaned, the vibrations sending you over the edge. You came all over his tongue and he lapped at the juices. Your legs tried to squeeze closed around his head but he pinned them down.

As you came down, he crawled up your body with a mischievous look on his face. His eyes were so dark now they were almost black, displaying just how much his control was slipping away. You shuddered at his predatory gaze.

“Minho?” your voice was barely above a whisper.

He didn’t answer, too lost in the moment as his instincts took over. 

He lined himself up with your entrance, sliding harshly inside. You wince, a pained groan slipping from your mouth. He was big and stretching you out. You swear none of the other hybrids were this thick. Your pussy wasn’t used to this and should have been prepped but his rut didn’t allow for the patience to do so.

He groaned as he thrusted, you were so tight, gripping him as you tried to adjust to him. You breathed through it, wanting to support your alpha. You could already feel the bond strengthening between you two - between the pack too as you were claimed by one of the alphas. It awakened something inside you and you relaxed underneath him as the pleasure overtook you.

“Fuck you feel so good, baby.” he moaned.

You ran your fingers along his chiseled body, taking in every curve and contour. He had a few minor scars here and there, although not as much as you did. His skin was soft and warm under your touch, electricity flowing through your fingertips from the contact.

You could feel the coil inside you tightening. It felt good…too good. Wow it’s never felt like this. Moans were falling from your mouth as he continued thrusting. He latched onto your nipples once more and you arched into his touch, one hand tangled in his hair. 

“Ugh…you’re so tight, kitten.” Minho groaned.

Your legs wrapped around his waist, his dick hitting deeper inside you. He continued to hit your cervix and you were seeing stars. The coil snapped and you came with a loud moan of his name.

“Fuck!” he gritted, spurting his cum deep inside you.

His hips stuttered as he filled you, gripping your hips. Your chest heaved as you came down from your high. His smell was intoxicating and you felt like you were on cloud nine. Was it always going to be like this?

He slipped his cock from your heat, making you wince. You wanted more - it felt too good. He must have read your mind because he flipped you onto your hands and knees and thrusted back into you. You gasped, clenching around him as you gripped the sheets. 

“Fuck..kitten.” He growled.

He began thrusting into you and you could feel the orgasm building yet again. You didn’t think he could fill you any deeper, but somehow he did. You didn’t want it to stop as it felt so incredible. You would have gotten over your fears faster and helped Jeongin if you had known it would be this mind-blowing.

Leaning forward, Minho flushed with your back, he hit your sweet stop repeatedly. Your orgasm was approaching fast as he continued to grunt and growl in your ear, the sound of skin slapping nearly drowned out by your moans.

“Minho…” you whined.

“I know, kitten.” Minho whispered.

He leaned into your hair, sniffing at your scent gland. Your scent mixed with your arousal was making him feral. He pushed your hair to one side, exposing your scent gland even more. It was then he was reminded of the branding Lewis put on you - because it certainly wasn’t the bite of a soulmate.

His eyes glowed red with anger at the idea of his soulmate being marked by another hybrid. You were his. You belonged to his pack and no one else's. He was so angry, he couldn’t see straight. He couldn’t stand to see that alpha’s mark on you. He opened his mouth and bit down near your scent gland.

You cried out, pain pouring into every muscle, tissue, and vein in your body. Your body shook, your orgasm washing over you. You rode the high, legs shaking as he latched onto you. He groaned as you squeezed around his cock but he didn’t let go. 

It was overwhelming and too much, making you see stars. Your vision began to get hazy as your orgasm continued to wash over you. Your whole body shook, eyes squeezed shut. You don’t know how long it lasted but eventually your body went limp and everything went dark. Minho released his mouth and fell with you, finally able to resume thrusting as you relaxed around his cock.

He was too gone to realize the gravity of what he just did.

Seungmin, Felix, Changbin, and Jeongin burst into Minho’s room. They heard you scream and now you were lying lifelessly on the bed as he continued to thrust into you. He was kissing across your back as he chased his own high. 

The boys were hit with the smell of his rut and panicked.

“What happened?!” Changbin nearly yelled.

Minho growled in response, flashing his red, possessive eyes at them. They knew it was not a good idea to interrupt an alpha and his omega….especially during his rut but they had no choice. It was too soon and they knew you weren’t ready to engage in such activities. Little did they know you insisted.

 “Minho….focus on my voice.” Changbin spoke calmly.

Minho growled in response, shielding you with his body. Changbin moved forward, as did Seungmin and Jeongin, and quickly lunged towards Minho. He growled and thrashed but they managed to get a grip on him and pull him off of you. You whimpered as he slipped from your tight heat, Felix hurried over and covered you in a sheet.

The boys pinned Minho to the far wall, him growling and fighting their hold. Felix noticed the bloody bite on the top of your shoulder near your scent gland and his eyes went wide. 

“Y/n?” Felix delicately brushed your hair back from your face. 

You didn’t wake.

Minho growled, making Felix jump. Felix was very sensitive to emotions, so he was scared and anxious with all the smells around him - anger, arousal, rut, worry, fear. Felix quickly scooped you up and brought you down to the med room, laying you on the bed. He pulled out his phone, dialing Doctor Quinn and putting her on speaker. Then he grabbed his stethoscope and blood pressure cuff. 

The phone rang five times. No answer.

“Dammit.” Felix panicked, hitting the call button again.

His hands were shaking, tears threatening to fall as he listened to your heart.

No answer.

“Fuck.” Felix rasped. “Answer doc!”

Felix called Doctor Quinn once more.

“Hello?” Quinn finally answered. 

“Thank god. I need you here immediately. Something’s wrong with y/n. She won’t wake up and she’s bleeding and-” Felix rambled, lip trembling.

“Felix, slow down. What’s wrong?” Quinn said in a calm voice.

“Y/n!” Felix exclaimed, tears filling his eyes. “Something’s wrong. Minho marked her and now she's not waking up.” 

“Minho marked her? Not Chan? Where’s Chan?”

“He’s not here! He took two betas to make an alliance.”

“Okay. Um, I'm with a patient right now. What’s her heart rate and BP?”

“It’s faint, I don’t know.” Felix threw his hands in the air.

“Felix, calm down. You need to take a breath. You can’t help her if you don’t collect yourself.”

Felix took a shaky breath.

“Okay. Tell me her vitals. Can you do that?” Doctor Quinn asked, her voice gently.

“Yes.” Felix sniffled.

With shaky hands, Felix told her your heart rate was fifties. He then measured your blood pressure, informing Quinn it was 60/40. 

“I'm almost done here Felix and then I will be right there. Give her fluids and keep an eye on her vitals. It sounds like she's sub-dropping.”

“Oh no…” Felix's eyes pooled with tears, streaming down his cheeks. “Isn't that fatal?!”

“Not always. I'll be there soon.”

With that, Quinn hung up in an effort to finish up with her current patient. Felix looked at you with such love and worry. He just got you…you couldn’t be taken from him now.

Meanwhile, the boys were bringing Minho to the rut house. There were chains there if needed for an extreme rut. They may have used it once but never had a regular need for it. Changbin chained Minho to the wall and he growled, not wanting anything to do with him.

“Let me have her.” He growled.

“Minho. Get a hold of yourself.” Changbin challenged.

“I’ve never seen him like this…” Jeongin whispered.

“I think y/n made him feral.” Changbin muttered, walking over to the others.

“Did you see he marked her?” Seungmin asked.

“Chan’s not going to like this.” Changbin ruffled his hair.

“Should we call him?” Jeongin asked.

“We shouldn’t worry him. Plus he should be on his way home by now.” Seungmin said.

“It’s just nearly noon.” Changbin looked at his phone. “He texted. He’s on the way. Jeongin, go help Felix and call him.” Changbin said.

Jeongin ran back home, coming in through the basement doors. He closed the door behind him, pulling out his phone when he heard crying. It was coming from the med room. His stomach dropped and he rushed over. He saw Felix laying his head in your lap, crying. Your skin was pale and it didn’t look like you were breathing. He couldn’t hear a heartbeat over Felix’s sobbing.

“Felix?” Jeongin whispered.

His head popped up, eyes puffy and cheeks tear stained. “She’s gone, Innie.”

“What?” Jeongin found the will to move and came over, gripping your wrist and looking for a pulse. “No. Fix her.”

“There’s nothing I can do. She sub-dropped. And Doc Quinn isn’t answering her phone.” Felix cried once more.

“You’re our medic. What would Doc Quinn do if she was here?”

“I did CPR for nearly five minutes.”

“What meds would Doc Quinn give her?” Jeongin asks as he comes over and begins CPR once more.

“Jeongin…”

“WHAT MEDICINE!?” Jeongin growled, not realizing his Alpha dominance was taking over.

“I, uh…” Felix stumbled over to the medicine cabinet. “Think, Felix, think.”

After a few seconds, Felix came over and injected you with a couple different medicines straight to your heart.

“What are those?” Jeongin asked.

“Epi and Amiodarone.” 

“Now what?”

“We continue CPR and hope Quinn gets here soon.”

“Call Chan.”

Felix looks at him with eyes so big it was shocking they didn’t fall from his head. 

“I was supposed to but I’m busy. Call Chan.” Jeongin said again.

Felix swallowed thickly and pulled out his phone. He dialed Chan but he didn’t answer. He tried Hyunjin and Jisung too.

“No one is answering.”

Jeongin rolled his eyes.

“Let’s switch.” Felix said.

They switched and Felix took his turn. 

“How’s Minho?” Felix asked.

“I think she made him feral.” Jeongin said, inspecting the mark.

“I’m afraid to clean it. I don’t want to hurt her.” Felix explained.

“You wouldn’t hurt her right now.” It slipped out before Jeongin realized.

They remained silent.

Chan slowly came to, his head pounding and his whole body aching. He groaned, reaching to massage his muscles when he felt a restraint. Opening his eyes he realized he was sitting in a dungeon of some sort. The smell was….familiar. Awful but familiar. There were chains around his wrists, securing him to the wall. He got up, looking around to see a wire cot with a thin, water stained mattress. There was a hole in the floor off towards the back.

Oh shit… Chan thought.

He was with the Nykos.

“Hyunjin? Jisung?” He called out. “Hyunjin!? Jisung!?”

He looked through the cell door, and across the walkway was Hyunjin beginning to stir. He looked around, restrained as well.

“Where the hell are we?” Hyunjin freaked out, standing and fighting against the shackles.

“Jinnie, relax. We are with the Nykos.” Chan stated.

“The Nykos?” Jisung questioned, coming to his cell door. “You mean this is where y/n spent her life?”

“Afraid so.”

“It smells like shit in here.” Jisung pinched his nose.

“We gotta figure out a way out.” Chan stated, looking around.

“Hey, miss? Can you help us?” Jisung called to the girl across from her cell.

“Jisung, who are you talking to?” Chan asked.

“There’s a girl in the cell next to yours.” Jisung explained. “Do you remember y/n?” 

The girl ignored him, cowering in the corner. She could smell the alpha and it terrified her. Hell, even the betas scared her. She was definitely not as brave as you had been.

“Stop scaring her.” Hyunjin says.

Jisung gives her a half smile before sitting on the mattress, groaning at the lack of support and cushion. 

There was a creak of a door and then footsteps descending. The smell of alpha hit their noses and the girl whimpered. They all stood alert, watching for what would happen. Alpha Lewis stepped to Chan’s cell.

“So you thought you could steal my omega and I wouldn’t find out?”

“She’s not yours.” Chris snapped.

Lewis laughed, stepping aside. His men opened the cell and snatched Chan, bringing him down the hall to his torture room. Chan was chained to the wall, barely having room to move his limbs this time. Lewis went over and pulled a stick off the wall.

“Why don’t we talk this out like adults.” Chan suggested. “I’m sure we can come to an agreement.”

“Is the big bad alpha scared?” Lewis mocks.

“Beat me all you want. I’m not afraid. I know she belongs with us.” Chan says.

Lewis flings his arm to the side, the stick expanding. He presses a button and the end crackles. He shoves it in Chan’s side and he groans.

“We had an agreement once already and you broke it.” Lewis reminds, shocking him once more. “Let’s see how long before the True Alpha breaks.”

“You know I didn’t kill my brother. You were there.”

“Doesn’t matter. Society will never see you as the True Alpha.”

Chan growled, fighting against the restraints.

Lewis electrocuted him once more. “I can do this all day, Chris.”

“Don’t call me that.” Chan seethes.

“No? It’s your name, is it not?”

“Not anymore.”

“Shame” Lewis jabs him with another five hundred volts of electricity.

“Stop!” Hyunjin cries out.

Lewis smirks, making his way over to the betas.

“You can take his place if you like…” Lewis gestured.

“No…” Chan growled, out of breath as he recovered.

“Why did you bring us here? To torture and kill us?” Jisung asked.

“No. You’re bait for my sweet little omega to come back to me.” Lewis answered, coming over to Jisung’s cell.

Without warning, He stuck the pole between the slots of the cell door and shocked Jisung. He cried out, falling back.

“Leave us alone.” Hyunjin growled.

Lewis stepped over, looking Hyunjin deep in the eyes and smirked. “That was her exact cell you’re standing in. Maybe you can leave her a little note for when she returns.” 

Hyunjin banged on the door, only making Lewis laugh as he returned back to Chan.

Knock. Knock.

It was doctor Quinn at the basement door. Felix poked his head out the med room, ushering her in. She hurried over.

“Talk to me.” She said, coming in to see Jeongin holding your hand.

“We got a faint heart beat about five minutes ago.” Felix stated.

“How long without one?” Quinn asked, looking over your new mark.

Felix and Jeongin exchanged glances, the silence making Quinn look up.

“Nearly…twenty minutes of CPR.” Felix said in a small voice.

“Twenty minutes? Two Zero?”

Felix nodded. “I gave her epi and amiodarone.”

Quinn took your vitals as they both stood by and watched.

“Her blood pressure is still low and her she’s brachycardic.” Quinn explained. “We will need to keep an eye on her until she regains consciousness. So tell me what the hell happened.”

“I guess Minho started his rut this morning. They were…you know, when we heard her scream. We all rushed in and he was on top of her still going even though she was unconscious. I don’t know if he even knows what happened.” Felix told her.

“He went feral?”

“I think so.” 

“So she probably screamed when he bit her, seeing as she was already marked. Although that mark is fading.” Quinn shook her head. “I told Chan to have me there when he felt it was time and she was ready. I never expected this to happen. Where’s Minho now?”

“Rut house chained up. He kept trying to get back to her.” Jeongin explained. “He didn’t want any help from us.”

“He might eventually calm down and allow one of you to help so keep trying.” Quinn said.

“So what do we do now?” Felix asks.

“Now we wait for her to wake.” Quinn asked.

They waited hours, Minho alone in the rut house as everyone sat in the basement. It was awkwardly quiet as they all strained their ears to focus on your heart rate. 

Changbin’s phone ringing broke the silence. He stood, moving to take the call outside.

“Hello?” he answered.

“Hello. This is Seungcheol. I was calling because I can’t seem to reach Chan. I called him a few times and Minho as well but neither of them answered. Did he make it home?”

“Uh…no. They aren’t here.” Changbin turned from the door, facing everyone.

They were so caught up with waiting for you to wake, they lost track of time and realized their mates never showed up.

“He was supposed to send me a document by four. They should have been home by now.” Seungcheol noted.

“They definitely should have been home.” Changbin snapped his fingers and Felix was quick to call Chan. Jeongin called Hyunjin and Seungmin called Jisung.

They all received no answer.

“They aren’t answering us either.”

“Seems like the Nykos made their move…” Seungcheol said. “We’ll be there within the hour.”

TAGLIST:

@estella-novella @lxvxchxrlxttxbxrsx22-blog @butterflydemons @readr1221 @gaby105-skz @notevenheretbh1 @bah2004 @sinfulfic @bowsnbang @just-a-blackthorn-cookie @dreamerwasfound @motheraiya55 @m00njinnie @writeuntilthebitterend @jutdwae-flower @staytinyluv @emmxxsworld @galaxy4489 @wolfo2027 @iknow-uknow-leeknow @thatgirlangelb

Shout out to my lovely betas!! @its-the-solar-system @cherry-erii

[johnwickb1tsch]

Sympathy for the Devil ~ Part 18

A Donaka Mark x housekeeper!Reader fic, based on @discoscoob 's concept & bot! An unlikely flirtation turns into a dark obsession... Warnings: Donaka Mark is a bad man with a soft spot for you. dark romance, possessive behavior, nonconsensual voyeurism, red flag red flag girl!🔺, psychological games, power imbalance, eventual dubcon/nsfw/involuntary captivity. all chapters

Eighteen. 十八

Maybe because Donaka watches you streaming how-to videos over the limited access iPad he gives you, a yoga teacher starts coming every other day to the house for an hour session.  

You cannot help but think the gesture is self-serving, keeping you limber for his own gratification, but it gives you something to do while he’s gone. 

It also helps calm you, in the moments when you are sorely tempted to break every expensive antique ceramic he has in the house, starting with the extremely rare pale green Ru Ware vases.

He’s kept his word, not letting you outside the compound since your little escape attempt. On top of the cameras, you feel his security team watching you at all times when he’s out–from a distance, but it’s still unnerving. You’re doing your best to be the goodest of girls–but it’s driving you crazy inside.

You’ve tried to write, but the words do not come easily anymore. Partly because you know he would read them later, and partly?

You feel too overwhelmed to even begin to make sense of this in the shape of words. 

You read instead, spending a great deal of your time in the library. You sprawl in the comfy chairs, but your favored pose is laying on your belly with a book on the floor like you did when you were a child. Partly because it’s comfortable and partly, it gives you the ridiculous psychological illusion of hiding. You are laying like this behind the table when you hear the door open, and recognize just by the confident footfalls who has entered your little sanctum. 

You cannot keep your heart from pounding double-time–depending on his mood, it could be good to see him back from work this early, or very bad.  

“Are my chairs not satisfactory?” he asks, the corner of his mouth pulled just slightly. “Do you require a pillow fort?”

You roll onto your side to look up at him, shrugging. “You’re home early.” It wasn’t even lunchtime yet. 

“I thought you might like to try out my new toy with me.” 

Your initial reaction to this statement is dread. 

The look on your face must tickle his funny bone. He throws back his head and laughs like a real Bond villain. “Not that kind of toy, y/n. Get up.”

You push to your feet, gingerly closing the book you’d been reading. He tilts his head to peruse the cover. “Tai Chi Theory? Forgot I even had that one.”

“It’s kind of interesting,” you play off, reluctant to tip your hand. In fact, you find it very interesting, especially after watching that young man Tiger Chen. You wonder how long you’d have to study, before you could get to pushing hands, the martial side of Tai Chi. 

You feel the weight of his gaze on you, and as usual, suspect you’re not fooling him one bit. He looks you up and down; you’re still in yoga pants and a tank top. “Go put on one of your new dresses,” he tells you. “Casual is fine.” 

His idea of casual and yours differ by vast degrees. 

This is when it sinks in for you: he is taking you out of the house? He watches your face light up like a lightbulb, and his smile widens slightly. “Tik tok, bunny,” he tells you, glancing at the Rolex upon his wrist. 

With a final glance at him you set your book on the table for later, and rocket out of the room. 

A large section of Donaka’s closet has been filled with clothes–for you. Nothing you had any hand in picking out, of course, although you hate to admit…more of them hit the mark than don’t. In your rush you settle on a sleeveless floral Carolina Herrera shirt dress with an A line skirt, and semi-sensible platform wedge sandals by Dior. It’s something you would almost select on your own–minus the three grand price tag.

Jesus H Christ on a cracker. 

Nervous, because you have no idea what he has in mind, you find yourself fidgeting in the closet mirror with a deer-in-the-headlights look. This does not improve for you, when you see him filling the doorway, his arms up on the jambs.   

“I knew that would look nice on you.”

His approval should not make you feel all warm inside, but…oh. His dark eyes in the mirror could start a fire, and you take a shaking breath. 

“Is this ok?” you ask, turning, smoothing your skirt. 

“Perfect.” 

This is when you really notice that he is wearing a khaki colored suit, with a white oxford button down, and it’s such a change from his usual grays and blacks that it almost makes your head spin. It makes him seem…less sinister, somehow, and so dapper your chest aches. 

“Where are we going?” you ask, sidling closer. 

“Nowhere, if you keep looking at me like that,” he answers with a half smile and that smoldering look that makes you weak in the knees. 

The devil shouldn’t be allowed to wear white. It’s entirely too becoming. It makes you forget too much. 

Feeling bold, maybe even a little giddy with the thought of going out, you wrap your arms around his lean torso under his jacket, tilting your head towards his. When his lips touch yours gently it feels like spring rain, like parts of you that were near death inside perk up and sigh, and you know you shouldn’t let yourself feel this way…but it’s too late. Too late by half. 

“Come on, y/n,” he says, taking your hand and tugging you to follow him.

***

You do not really know what you’re looking at, at first, when he leads you out to the circle driveway.

It’s a sports car, of course, its perfect porcelain white paint gleaming like a pearl in the sun, with brushed aluminum trim and crimson accents in the wheels. You can see hints of red leather interior peeking through the tinted windows. 

“Well?” he asks impatiently when you are quiet for too long.

“It’s gorgeous,” you admit, meaning it too.

He grins down at you in a moment of what you believe is pure, unadulterated happiness. “That’s worth 2 million dollars, I suppose.”

You almost trip, and might have bit it if he wasn’t already holding on to you. “What?”

The ‘Just kidding’ does not come. He opens the passenger side door for you with a gallant little wave. “My lady.”

You, however, pause at the door. “Donaka, I’m afraid to even touch this thing.” He was ready to spank you over just tearing a button off a shirt.

He leans on the door, smirking down at you. “Baby, do you know what the mark of true, untouchable, fuck you wealth is?”

You blink in answer. “Umm…no?”

“It’s the fact that we could destroy this thing today, and I could buy another one tomorrow just like it. And there were only 58 ever made.”

You let out a slow breath. You know he is not actually so cavalier with his expensive possessions. And the thought of having that much money to burn…it’s just obscene. Like he can read the transcript of your hesitance, he urges you further.

“Come on, bunny. Let’s have some fun.”

You look at the luxurious blood red leather inside the car. “Should I take my shoes off?”

“Honey, you can put your feet on the dash if you want.” 

It feels like…he actually means it, and it’s hard to reconcile this carefree mood of his with the forbidding man you knew before. Maybe you’re the fool…but you want to believe this side of him is real. You want to believe…that you’re safe. You bite your lip, and he can see your trepidations evaporating with the rising sun. In the end, the chance to go outside the compound is too much temptation to resist. “Okay.”

“Mmm. That’s my girl.”

Hearing those words from his lips should not cross the wires in your brain the way they do. You settle down into the sculpted seat, and he closes the door gently after you. 

You notice something sitting in the floorboard at your feet. As he’s getting in you realize it's a handbag, white leather, red lining. It’s almost cute, that it matches his car. There’s a brightly printed silk scarf inside, as well as sunglasses, hand lotion, and organic lip balm. It’s funny that you didn’t even think to bring a bag, because you have no money or identification to put in it. He’s thought of everything, it seems. 

It’s all damn near sweet, is what it is, and as ever you feel the conflict of rabid want and utmost trepidation with this man. 

He starts the car, and the deep, primal rumble of the motor is like the warning grumble of a jungle cat, low and menacing. How fitting, for the man behind the wheel. 

“You’re going to want that for your hair,” he tells you, nodding at the scarf. 

“Oh?” 

He touches a button, and what you thought was a solid tinted black top slides back with seamless precision, folding somehow into the boot. 

“Holy shit.”

He laughs at your surprise, enjoying your mystification. “They told me this car can go from 0 to 100 kilometers in 2.7 seconds. Should we try it out?”

“Uh…that sounds terrifying,” you answer glibly, folding the scarf in half. Your insides lurch a little when you see Hermès printed in the corner. Then you have a heart-stopping inkling about the bag too. Gold hardware and a decorative lock, and in small gold script, there it is. $30,000 sitting at your feet, minimum. 

Don’t panic. Stay calm.

You can’t help but think that if you had that kind of money to throw around, you would give it to Mei for her sister, and not spend it on a Birkin, or a special edition supercar, or a designer dress that you were pretty sure you could find a lookalike of at Target.

He’s watching these thoughts play across your face with a small smile. You’re sure he knows the gist of them, if not the exact translation. You realize he was right, when he told you so unfalteringly that he knows you better than anyone. 

Fine, you think, trying to put some steel in your spine. Bitching about the price of these gifts to indulge your guilt will get you nothing in the end. You decide that you are going to enjoy your day, so that he enjoys his day, and then you are going to ask him again about Mei tomorrow. Honey over vinegar. 

Flow bitch flow.  

As if on cue, the wound on the inside of your thigh aches as you shift in your seat. It’s not infected, but it’s taking a long time to heal. He lets you wash it, but no ointment is allowed. He wants it to scar–and he’s going to get his wish, the manipulative bastard. 

You look around the interior of the car, admiring the undulating white leather dragon detail sewn into the upholstery between your seats. “This is way cooler than the Lamborghini,” you affirm, winning the smug pleasure you sought. 

“I thought it might appeal to you.”

“Um…what is it?” You don't recognize the stylized logo on the dash. 

He smirks at you, as though for some reason it pleases him that you don’t know. 

“This is a Bugatti Veyron, sweetheart.”

You think you’ve heard of that…in a Lana del Rey song.

Then, like he can’t help himself, he adds, “Year of the Dragon edition.” He lifts his eyebrows as he says this, and it hits you like a shovel–he’s being cute. He seems to get so much enjoyment out of giving you the specs–it’s ridiculously endearing, even if he is mansplaining.

“I see. Well…I shouldn’t like it, but I’m afraid I do,” you begrudgingly admit.

This admission makes him laugh out loud. “I don’t think you realize it yet, but you have expensive taste.” 

You shrug, even while it eats at you inside. “I think you mean I have good taste,” you counter, tracing his long fingers lightly where his hand rests on the console between you. He opens his paw in invitation, and you lace your fingers with his. As his grasp closes upon your smaller hand you can’t help but feel like you have sealed something between the two of you. His heavy gaze upon you only reinforces this impression. 

The corner of his mouth ticks up, as though he senses your trepidation deep down. He doesn’t taunt you though, simply stepping on the gas. The car roars, and you are racing off into the warm embrace of a beautiful South China day.

***

As you drive the winding roads of Hong Kong island, the lush landscape on either side and the glittering blue sea stretching off into the distance, you think you finally understand Donaka Mark’s predilection for high-performing sports cars. These roads are made for such machines, or vice versa, the low slung car hugging the curves with ease. Donaka is a good driver, despite the speed, and you strangely find yourself relaxing for the first time in you don’t know how long, enjoying the ride. This man doesn’t have a death wish. He’s not going to do anything stupid, so you sit back and revel in the breeze, riding the wind with your hand out the window like you used to when you were a child. 

Out the corner of your eye you realize he’s watching you with a small smile, and for once he doesn’t look sinister or conniving. He looks content, and you didn’t have to sacrifice any of your mental or physical wellbeing to get him there.

Miracles happen every day.  

He also looks unfairly handsome behind the wheel of this speed machine, and you can’t help but sigh to yourself. You suppose you could certainly be doing worse with your time. 

“Where are we going?” you ask, curious, but in no hurry. 

“On a little adventure. Have you seen the south end of Tai Tam Road yet?” 

You shake your head. Anytime you took the bus to the Central district from Shek O you just went north. “I haven’t seen any of that part of the island,” you admit. You’d wanted to check out the beaches, but just never got around to it. There was a lot in Hong Kong you had wanted to do, before the necessity arose to try to get the hell out of Dodge. 

“Then today’s your lucky day.” 

You think that might be true in more ways than one. At the juncture he turns left, heading south, and you are happily quiet as you take in the views of the lush mountains along the winding road. You roar over the narrow two lane of the dam of the reservoir, and you close your eyes for a moment, enjoying the cooler air. It’s all so stunning, and over-the-top as it is, this is a pretty epic way to take it all in. 

Donaka catches you smiling to yourself, and squeezes your hand in his. 

“Was it difficult, getting used to driving on the left?” you ask. 

“Who says I had to get used to it?” he counters with a little smile. 

“I guess I just assumed you’re American,” you admit, mostly from the way he talks. “You’re too evil to be Canadian.” 

This makes him laugh out loud, delighted. “You might be surprised, darling.” 

He gives you nothing, and you wonder if he encourages the mystery because he left a life behind as a wanted man, or simply because he enjoys the cloak and dagger of it. You realize that you’ve kind of invented this persona of wickedness for him from gut instinct and what little clues you’ve gathered, but you know nothing for certain. Donaka might be a perfectly upstanding businessman–as upstanding as any multi-millionaire ever can be. Mightn’t he???

You just can’t bring yourself to believe it.

“So…how did you come to live in China?”

He tilts his head, looking over at you with amusement. “Are we playing twenty-questions today?” 

“Just trying to get to know you better.” 

“Why?” 

“Oh, I don’t know. It’s not like we’re living together now or anything…” It’s the most politic way you can think of, to describe kidnapping, forced cohabitation, and temporary insanity brought on by the most thrilling quasi-consentual sex of your life.

His lips twist as you think he’s trying to suppress a grin. Instead he presses a surprisingly tender kiss to your fingers, and drives in silence for at least a kilometer before answering, “I came to China a long time ago, to find my father.” 

Sensing the weight of this admission, you hesitate to go forward. But there is that burning curiosity in the back of your brain; you so badly want to know. “Did you find him?”  

“Eventually.” You wait for elaboration, but the silence stretches on. You realize this is not a happy subject for him, and you congratulate yourself on your talent for always pinpointing the exact wrong thing to say to ruin a beautiful day. This is why you prefer writing conversations down to having them in real time. You always, inevitably, unfailingly, fuck up. 

“I’m sorry,” you sigh, sinking into your seat, looking out over the stunning landscape rolling before you and feeling incredibly stupid. Once again, it seems, you’ve forgotten your place. Mistresses don’t ask these things, do they? You’re supposed to be pretty and fuckable and entertaining, and don’t forget your role on the odd days when it feels like you might mean more than that to him. 

“Don’t be,” he forgives you with a grace that absolutely surprises you. “I appreciate that you want to know me, y/n. But there are things you don’t want to know. Do you understand?”

“Yes and no,” you admit cautiously. “Are these things I don’t want to know, or things you don’t want me to know?” 

He smiles ruefully at that. “Both.”

Maybe you already knew that, deep down. You try to tell yourself that it doesn’t matter. That you’re not staying any longer than you have to, no matter what he says to scare you, or beguile you, and no matter how it seems that he’s being sweet because it has to be a manipulative lie. That someday you’re going to get your opportunity, and you’re going to bounce. And most important of all: you are not falling in love with this man. You’re telling yourself all of this…but the foremost part of your brain, whatever is responsible for what you are doing now, in this moment–isn’t paying one bit of attention. It likes this handsome monster of a man beside you, in his beautiful suit, with his wicked fast car. It likes where you are right now, and it’s telling your longterm survival instincts to fuck the fuck off. 

His thumb strokes yours gently on the center console between you, back and forth as he thinks. “I haven’t had an easy life, y/n,” he finally admits. “I learned early on that if you want anything worth having, you have to take it, because no one will hand it to you.” It’s possible that you hold your breath at hearing this, thinking about the way he up and took you. “Not that he meant to, but the one good thing my father taught me, was the lengths the rich will go to, to protect their wealth. I’ve made a career capitalizing on that, and it’s gone well for me.” 

You suppose you can’t argue with that. 

Vague as his admission was, it does explain certain things about Donaka Mark to you. It almost startles you, when he flashes that smile that is so much like a tiger showing its fangs. “And now I know you will pick apart every little syllable I’ve just said, trying to get the most information you can out of it.” 

It’s so spot on that you look away, embarrassed by how ridiculous you are, and how well he knows it too. But he squeezes your hand, calling your attention back to him. He doesn’t say anything more, but the warm way he looks at you…it should be illegal. You’re not sure you’ll ever be free, when he turns the full power of that smoldering gaze upon you. 

Inexplicably flushed, you look at the road ahead. There’s a straight away coming up, the azure sea beyond glittering like a blanket of brilliant cut diamonds. “I thought you said this car was fast?” you challenge, and even though you know he knows you’re changing the subject, he rises to your challenge with a smirk, and a roar of the engine as the Bugatti rockets forward down the highway. 

You laugh with unfettered joy as he passes a slower car, slicing back into your lane with a foot to spare in front of an oncoming truck, and you decide that maybe the both of you have gone a little mad amidst this thing that has grown between you, taken hold of your sanity like a strangler vine. 

all chapters.

____________________

*the car is a Bugatti Veyron, Wei Long Grand Sport 2012 Year of the Dragon edition. You can google it if you want more specs. I’m not big into cars or anything but I thought it was pretty frickin’ cool. 😂

The route they take on Hong Kong island: (I love maps I'm sorry 😆)

[dairy-farmer]

Yes that’s the one! Thank you so much! Do you also have it on tumblr? Twitter hides the thread when you are not a member ):

answered out of order:

brutim

cw/tw cnc

i dont but i can post it! here!

___________________________________

brutim| bruce with noncon fantasies he never shared with partners like talia or selina. but then tim gets hit with a spell that makes him say the opposite of what he wants and bruce fucks him harder than he ever has before while shivering at his 'no more! stop! help me! slower!'

bruce being so close to finishing, fucking harder and deeper and then tim, gasps, whines, and in his ears bruce hears him beg-

"not inside! not inside!"

and bruce GROANS and cums as deep as he can in tim.

it’s during one of those rare out-of-gotham cases that it happens. tim gets returned to him by a sheepish clark who is holding a squirming superboy by the ear in one hand.

“zatanna says it should wear off by morning”

IT. is a tongue curse.

a magician had seen that robin had been the one calling the shots and decided to teach him a lesson.

in the medbay tim squirms as bruce examines him, peeling off his sweat-slickened suit and prodding at his bruises and superficial cuts.

“that doesn’t hurt."

tim states matter of factly when bruce presses a finger to a sluggishly bleeding scrape on tim’s jaw.

bruce carefully removes his fingers.

that means it does hurt. it was, afterall, a diametric spell. every word that came out of tim's mouth was the opposite of what he wanted.

if he said it didn't hurt, that meant that it did. if he didn't want something, it meant that he did.

bruce had tested it out, trying to see the extent of how the spell worked.

it was only supposed to last a few hours but bruce still wanted a catalog of the incident.

'yes' meant 'no'.

'slow down' became 'faster'.

simple things like that.

expletives were interesting. when bruce ordered tim to swear at him, tim blushed and hesitantly said 'fuck'.

names seemed unaffected.

it appeared that since the words were exclamations rather than words with assigned meanings they didn't have a reversal.

bruce put tim through a set of comprehensive tests to see the extent of the spell.

if bruce told him to point to the right, tim would point to the left.

if bruce told him to write down specific words, tim would write the opposite.

but if bruce didn't order him then tim could do as he pleased. it was a fascinating effect. able to function by using compulsion.

the spell seemed to invade tim's language center, his writing ability, and his body's motions.

when bruce told tim to step closer to him, tim took a step back.

it was a remarkable effect. and dangerous.

things like this in the field could immediately effect the chain of command, orders given, and plans laid out.

if tim tried to resist saying anything at all he could remain silent.

for a bit.

but then his jaw would begin to tremble and bruce would see drool collecting in the corner of tim's mouth until tim burst out with the words.

tim's mouth was slack, pink tongue peeking out. lines and strings of drool dripped out as tim hastily wiped it away.

bruce stared for a moment longer than necessary before adding that the spell had a compulsion aspect to it.

alfred was away in europe for a few more days, leaving bruce and tim alone for the most part.

that's why bruce was in charge of tim's physical.

along with making sure he got something to eat and was showered and dressed for bed.

tim is already up in his room by the time bruce retires from the cave.

there's a small tub of ointment for tim's bruises in his hand.

he'd forgotten to hand it to tim before he sent him upstairs.

bruce knocks and lets the door creak open, peeking in to the sight of tim sitting up and staring at him from bed.

"get out."

bruce's sleepiness had a bit of its claws in him but at the sound of the soft order he startles awake.

bruce's head shoots up to face tim who is red-faced and squirming in bed.

"get out," he repeats with more force before letting out a sharp frustrated breath through his nose.

bruce feels a tug of something in his gut and enters tim's room.

tim's sleeping shirt is hanging off a shoulder. there's a bright red mark on his shoulder that will likely purple into a bruise within a day or two.

tim has pushed himself up and is staring at bruce with some hazy interest.

bruce doesn't know why he hasn't offered tim the ointment yet. instead, he's just standing in tim's room. staring.

but there's a strange tension in the air.

bruce is shirtless with just some loose cotton sleeping pants. tim is in a simple shirt and some underwear that bruce can see peeking beneath.

tim is staring at him patiently. waiting for his explanation for why he's in his room so late.

the room he's already told bruce to get out of. (but it wasn't like that was it? tim didn't mean to tell bruce to get out, he meant to tell him to come in when he knocked).

they've been here before. done this before.

where the manor was empty save for them and tim would crawl into bed with bruce.

it started innocently enough, tim tucking his face into bruce's neck, breathing him in. but then hands wandered and clothes were removed.

bruce always felt guilty in the morning.

he avoided tim for a few days out of shame and then everything returned to normal.

bruce could always reassure himself with the fact that it was always tim who came to him. tim entered his room, got into his bed.

it wasn't as bad if tim was the one who did it. who started it.

bruce felt less guilty about it.

but here...now...

bruce was in tim's room. (coming to give him medicine).

tim was staring at him and bruce held out the small glass jar.

"ointment" he offered and held it out to tim who went cross-eyed to stare at it.

"use it for your bruises."

tim sucked on his bottom lip. slowly.

bruce watched the movement of his mouth with something forming in his gut.

tim looked back up at him. eyes big, one shoulder bare with his shirt hanging off it.

"i'm not in any pain."

tim let his tongue dart out to wet his lips. bruce watched it like a hawk. "i don't need your help."

bruce swallowed thickly. something...something was in his gut coiling.

tim's tone ordering him to get out. tim's insistence that he wasn't in pain and didn't need bruce's help.

"i'll do it." bruce replied, voice oddly croaked. "i'll apply it."

"no." tim breathed, voice oddly breathless. "i don't want you to."

bruce felt a shiver race down his spine as he edged closer, form practically eclipsing tim.

bruce pressed him down with a single hand.

tim didn't resist him. tim's pupils were big, his breathing was heavier

bruce grabbed tim's bare thigh, squeezing it experimentally and listening to tim's soft hiss.

"did that hurt?" bruce asked.

he opened the slick balm that turned to an oil with the warmth of his skin.

"no." tim replied with a slight strain, like he was reluctant like he didn't mean it.

something tugged at bruce's brainstem.

bruce massaged the flesh.

he dug in expert fingers until tim let out a soft whimper.

"you want me to make you feel better?" bruce asked, voice heavy with...something.

tim whimpered.

"n-no."

tim's eyes slip closed and bruce inched closer.

"are you going to let me help you?"

tim shakily sucked in a breath and-

"n-no. no i don't want your help, please-"

bruce wasn't paying attention to tim's bruises or scratches. the little glass jar was somewhere in the sheets, bruce didn't know where. he was too focused on tim.

tim's little baby clit was pulsing under bruce's fingers as tim's thighs shook around where bruce had settled between his legs.

tim was making little murmurs under his breath, brows furrowed as bruce trailed his fingers around his slick little entrance.

"stop." tim panted.

"stop stop stop-"

bruce swallowed the lump in his throat, steadied his shaking arm and pressed two fingers into tim's wet slit.

tim arched up off the bed.

"n-no! no! bruce-" bruce felt something like agony course through him.

his jaw was clenched so tight, his body was winded up with tension.

bruce shoved tim's shirt further up his chest. his other hand not inside tim, cupped and pinched tim's little tit. he squeezed and roughed up the flesh.

he left the skin red and distressed as he pressed in closer and ground his covered cock into tim's wet seam.

"no, bruce, no-"

tim began shaking, trembling under him.

bruce knows it's because he gets overwhelmed. because it just feels too good.

it's not because he's afraid.

not because he doesn't want this. but still. tim's words and the mixed signals from his body- they just do things to bruce's brain.

he's felt guilty about his thoughts that were like this.

he's cursed himself and convinced himself there was something deeply wrong with him for desiring something like this.

a body squirming and crying under him, desperate to get away. but bruce is too big, too strong and they can't escape. they can't get away.

bruce knows it's wrong. it's a branch of depraved that is considered one of the more extreme taboos.

he's never tried it with a partner. never.

he knows the kind of women he is attracted to. strong and proud.

they'd never lower themselves to begging.

they'd never give into the indignance of pretending to be a victim for bruce. they'd be insulted, disgusted even.

it's why bruce kept it to himself. kept his shameful thoughts to himself.

bruce comforts himself with the fact that he's sickened by the thought of ever attempting something like this outside of a fantasy.

not in real life.

not when he's seen the aftermath on the streets so many times.

but still sometimes...he can't help but just think of it...

it's why he hated himself just a little bit more every time the desire reared his head and he touched himself to the thought of backing someone into a corner and using all his bulk to do what he wanted to them.

so bruce is more than a little interested in tim (he ignores the voice in his head that is telling him this is a bad idea).

more than he usually is.

because tim is soft. his body is pliant and bends to bruce's whims.

he's warm and he clings to bruce every time he bottoms out into his sinfully tight cunt. all sloppy and wet and straining against the size of bruce.

sometimes tim freezes up like one of those deers in the headlights when bruce fucks him.

with his legs thrown over bruce's shoulders, hands clinging to any bit he can hang on, mouth open and just staring at bruce with big eyes. bruce rocks into his body, meeting his eyes and holding his hips as he fucks deep and fast until tim is twitching around him.

until he's letting out soft 'unghh unghh hnngh' sounds.

but tim also likes to talk, he's vocal and offers feedback to bruce. (which bruce appreciates).

he tells bruce what he likes, tells him to keep going, to fuck faster, deeper, harder-

bruce shivers as tim whines under him. he's twitching around bruce's fingers, pussy clamping onto the fingers and desperate to keep them in even as he cries-

"no more! no more! it hurts"

bruce groans over tim, cock so achingly hard and throbbing that he's dripping with precum.

bruce is panting audibly, he can hear himself in his ears as he grinds his cock against tim's twitching cunt stuffed full of his fingers.

bruce thrusts them in down to the knuckle.

tim's body jolts, flinching against the movement. bruce crouches closer, his heart is pounding in his chest. his cock is aching with need to be inside tim.

bruce presses his fingers in harshly, spreading them, watching as tim's pretty,

red pussy strained to accommodate the stretch.

"does that hurt?" bruce asked, voice heavy with desire. he can feel his body coiled in anticipation at tim's reply. there are tears beading in his eyes, his cheeks are stained red and he's squirming.

"does that hurt tim?"

"yes!" tim cries, a little sob bursting out of him as he shook. bruce felt his hot cunt go tight around his fingers.

bruce shivered.

"you want daddy to make you hurt? huh?"

" you want him to destroy your little pussy?" bruce's voice was a near growl. his hands drifted down to his pants and began tugging them down, shivering at the warm air as it hit his cock dripping with need.

fuck. bruce had never been this hard before.

he hadn't even fucking touched himself and he was already leaking.

"no!" tim sobbed, head thrown back and tears streaming down his face "no! no! no!"

bruce shook as he tugged out his dripping fingers.

"daddy's going to fuck you-"

"no!"

"yes he is."

bruce steadied his grip on tim's hips, carefully inched closer to tim's entrance and looked up to stare at tim's tear-filled eyes that were staring at him as near inaudible 'no no no's' were being whispered under his breath.

bruce almost cooed at the sight before fucked all the way in with a single hard thrust.

tim went still under him.

"yes. he. is." bruce snapped his hips into a sharp thrust with every word as tim gasped with every push into him.

"bruce,"

tim let out the word with such a raspy voice like he was being strangled. "bruce, stop, stop, stop-"

tim's voice was increasing in urgency. bruce could see as tim's face was twisted in pleasure.

his legs desperately wrapped around bruce's hips to keep him in even as he pleaded for bruce to stop, to slow down, to get out of him-

bruce felt as something seeped into him. he felt like he detached from his body,

only able to watch as he pinned down tim's hips and began FUCKING.

tim threw his head back and cried.

"oh god! bruce no more no more! slower! oh please go slower! i can't take it!"

bruce buried his face into tim's shoulder,

groaning as he listened to tim squirm under him, breathy voice pleading with bruce to stop this, to slow down, that it hurts-

bruce started fucking harder, faster, deeper.

tim's hips arched up to meet his hard thrusts. tim was panting in his ear, breathless,

and whining with a strained voice.

bruce pumped his cock into tim's hot cunt, feeling as he split open his walls. as that tight pussy shivered around him, unable to handle his size.

tim's body was so small under him, so easy to grab and manipulate and hold down.

tim kept squirming under him, trying to get into a better position, trying to lift his hips so bruce could sink in deeper. but with the words he's saying and how he's moving. it's almost as if he's trying to escape.

"stop fighting."

bruce whispered the order to tim's ear. "stop fighting and let me fuck you."

tim went still for a moment and bruce knows what's coming. knows it from the moment tim's body refused to follow a direct order while bruce tested him.

tim can't help but do the opposite of what he's told.

bruce groans as tim tries desperately to buck him off. his legs are kicking at either side of him. tim grunts with effort as his hands press on bruce's chest, trying to push him off.

he's fighting bruce so fiercely. fighting like he doesn't want this.

tim sobs into his ears and tells him to stop, stop, stop.

bruce lays his weight onto tim, pins down his hands and fucks into tim with twice the fervor he did before.

bruce feels like something has unclasped in him. there's a swirling heat in his gut that's all demand and want for him to take.

tim stretches so beautifully for him, his cunt sucking him and letting him bottom out about despite tim's words about not wanting this,

about hating this, about hating bruce.

"i ...i h-hate you-" tim breathes out as he keens when bruce roughly strokes his clit. "i hate you i hate you- oh god, fuck i hate you so fucking much-"

bruce laps up the hot tears streaming down tim's sweetly pink cheeks.

he hums his acknowledgment into tim's brows and litters gentle kisses onto the skin.

tim sobs and shakes under him, trembling like a bird in the snow.

bruce groans as he sinks in deep, feels his balls slap tim's wet cunt and stays there. he feels tim twitch around him.

feels his hot pussy walls clamp down and try to keep him inside.

tim is straining under him, caught between sobbing and trying to squirm away from him. bruce just wraps a hand around his waist and uses his hard-earned strength to keep tim pinned to him.

bruce groans into tim's cheek as the bit of wiggling has tim thrusting up and down on his cock.

"good boy," bruce breathes, "such a good boy- you want this so badly don't you?"

"n-no!" tim's voice is thick with his sobs and tears and bruce kisses his parted mouth,

licking in and tasting the sweet slickness of tim's saliva.

"you love me fucking you, don't you? you little slut"

tim weakly twitches under him and nods his head even after a croaked "no i don't, i hate it, i hate it so much-"

bruce's cock has been steadily dripping cum the entire tim. his balls are clenched tight and bruce can feel he's right at the edge.

tim's pussy is so perfect for him, accommodating him so well and letting bruce batter the walls as he begins to pull back and sharply thrust in.

tim yelps and clings to bruce as he begins panting out low orders to his ears.

"i'm so close, just be quiet tim alright?-"

"don't let anyone in the house know what we're doing okay? just a little longer okay, i'm almost done. daddy's almost done and then he'll cum inside you, alright?"

tim's cries got louder. louder and louder until he was almost screaming bruce's name.

pleading for him to slow down, it hurts, it hurts, it hurts, can't someone help him? please!

tim suddenly lets out a sharp cry and throws his head back. bruce grunts as he feels tim tighten around him, hard enough the at he can barely move but bruce just fucks. harder.

tim lets out punctuated 'ah ah ah's' with every push of bruce's cock.

tim is panting. red-faced. out of breath. almost delirious with pleasure as bruce feels tim's little clit throb under his fingers.

"nnhg b-bruce-" tim's voice is dry and raspy.

his brows are furrowed as he lets out occasional gasps. "nngh n-not inside, please."

bruce feels his eyes close. his breaths are growing heavier, his thighs are burning with lactic acid as he sinks into that sloppy wet pussy.

bruce can hear the 'squelches' in his ears as he feels his balls tighten until its almost painful.

"not inside!" tim sobs. fresh tears are streaming down his cheeks and his forehead is creased from overstimulation of bruce touching his little clitty. "no! not inside!"

"not inside! please! please bruce!"

tim is begging him not to cum in him. not to ruin him further.

and bruce almost cries as he cums, scrambling to stuff inside tim as deep as he can. he groans as he feels his cum shoot into tim.

he knows it's pooling right at the entrance of his womb.

the thought fills bruce with so much animalistic satisfaction that he humps into tim's slutty hole while listening to his whines. bruce bites and kisses at his pretty pink tits.

sucking hard enough to leave bruises before shoving his tongue into that exhausted little mouth.

bruce hums into it, as the kiss grows sloppy and thick with spit that froths down their chins.

tim whimpers occasionally.

his body slow and unreactive as bruce tugs his softened cock out and lets it rest against the seam of tim's well-used pussy.

"you're mine." bruce whispers to him. "say you're mine. you'll always be mine."

tim's eyes are heavy with sleep, he's nodding off as he says-

"n-no."

"not yours. w-wil never be yours."

bruce shivers at the words and tightens his grip on tim's hip. his wet cock, spent and tired, gets pressed back into tim's little hole with a bit of manuevering.

bruce is going to keep it there for the night.

tucked inside a nice warm hole where it belonged. plugged in until tim's pussy never forgot the shape of bruce's cock.

until he never forgot that his cunt was bruce's. his tits, his mouth, his body, his everything was bruce's.

maybe bruce should be horrified.

maybe the weight of what he's done should be sitting like a stone in his stomach. his guilt should keep him awake as well as the anticipation of morning because by morning tim will be back to normal.

he'll be back to normal and will know how much bruce liked fucking him while acting like he didn't want it. he'll know the things bruce said to him and how much he liked tim fighting against him.

maybe bruce should be more mortified.

more concerned about how tim wasn't disturbed by this.

but instead, bruce settles in. he tightens his grip on tim's hip and tucks tim's sweet head under his chin.

he breathes in deeply and sleeps without a single thing weighing on his mind.

_____________________________________________________

[itacats]

Through Sickness & Solace (mini-series)

FT: Price x gn!reader

Warnings: being sick (cold), panic cleaning, not cleaning up while sick (?), please let me know if anything else should be here!🙏

A/N: The final story in the series will be out tomorrow, but in the meantime, I hope you enjoy this one! Thank you for sticking with me through the journey so far. I also hope you’re all taking good care of yourselves—whether you’re battling the sniffles or just need a little extra self-care. Stay cozy, and I’ll see you at the finale tomorrow!

SUM: A weekend spent in solitude, where illness and loneliness begin to unravel your sense of independence. As the cold sets in, the familiar comfort of being alone turns into a stark reminder of how much you miss the warmth of companionship, especially the presence of John Price. When he unexpectedly returns early from his mission, his quiet care and tenderness help you realize that strength isn’t always about handling everything alone. Through his gentle attention, you come to understand that allowing others to care for you can be its own form of strength.

Simon Riley Soap MacTavish Gaz Garrick

Take Care of Yourself

The weekend had always been your fortress, a quiet retreat from the noise of the world. You'd wrap yourself in thick blankets, lose yourself in the soft glow of a candle, and sip tea while sinking into the familiar embrace of your favorite shows. There was a certain kind of peace in the solitude, a chance to recharge, to exist entirely on your terms. But as this particular weekend approached, a shadow of old memories whispered at the edges—recollections of childhood nights spent alone with a fever, a blanket tucked up to your chin, yearning for someone to sit by your side.

John Price’s last-minute mission left you with a familiar pang of emptiness, though he’d promised to be back by Sunday. You missed his steady presence, but the plan was clear: you’d dive into the weekend with Netflix as your companion, tackling the sniffle that crept in on Friday evening. You’d handled worse before—what was a minor cold? Armed with ginger tea and an iron will, you resolved to ignore the ache in your throat, savoring the comfort of your own space.

But Saturday dawned with a vengeance. The cold sank into your bones, each sneeze and cough wearing you down bit by bit. Determined not to let it defeat you, you bundled up with a box of tissues, a steaming bowl of soup, and settled on the couch. Episodes blurred together as you cocooned yourself, losing hours to fictional worlds as your own grew increasingly dim. 

By the time the afternoon waned, your little sanctuary looked more like a battleground. Mugs of half-finished tea cluttered the table, and the tissues piled up like fallen soldiers in the fight against your relentless cold. You wanted to straighten up, but every movement felt like wading through water, your limbs heavy, your mind fogged with fatigue. The more you stayed curled up, the more the silence around you seemed to amplify, filling the room with an eerie quiet that made you long for Price’s laughter, his calming voice. Alone, the sickness crept into your mind as much as your body, filling the silence with a dull ache.

That evening, as your body curled deeper beneath the blankets, the pang of loneliness returned with a biting clarity. You wrapped your arms around yourself, feeling the weight of isolation settling over you like a second illness. It was absurd, you thought—you had long prided yourself on self-sufficiency. But in this weakened state, it hit you: independence wasn’t quite the balm you’d once believed. You missed the warmth, the companionship, the ease of leaning on someone else. You blinked back the sting of tears, vowing that by the time Sunday arrived, you’d have everything back in order, even if it took every ounce of strength you had left.

Sunday evening arrived in a flurry of tissues and empty tea mugs, and the mess felt like a reflection of your own struggle. You looked around in dismay as the familiar comfort of your home had transformed into a chaotic sprawl of sickness. Fever settled in like a heavy fog, pressing on your senses and leaving you teetering between helplessness and frustration. Driven by a sudden burst of energy, you threw off your blankets and clambered to your feet, determined to clean up before Price returned. But every step was a struggle, and as you reached for a mug, dizziness swept over you. You felt yourself wobble, the room tilting—

Then, a familiar creak. The front door opened, and there he stood, John Price, his rugged face softening with a mixture of shock and concern. His eyes swept over the scene before him—your unsteady figure, the scattered mess, the feverish flush on your cheeks. Without a word, he crossed the room, steady hands guiding you back to the couch.

“Whoa, easy there,” he murmured, his voice gentle but firm. “Sit down. Let me handle this.” His hands were a steady warmth as he pressed you back into the cushions, his gaze filled with a tenderness that made you want to cry. 

You tried to protest, a weak murmur of “I can take care of myself,” slipping out between coughs, but the fight was slipping away, and you sagged back into the cushions, allowing him to take the reins.

As he moved through the room, picking up the mugs and clearing the tissues with a quiet efficiency, you watched him through half-lidded eyes. A warm, unfamiliar feeling spread within you, mingling with the fever’s heat. You’d built so much of your life around the idea that strength meant handling things alone, that needing someone else was a sign of weakness. But watching him, hearing the clink of mugs being cleaned and feeling the weight of the blankets he carefully arranged around you, that belief began to unravel. Maybe, you realized, true strength wasn’t about bearing every burden alone.

A quiet sigh escaped you as Price returned, placing a cool hand on your forehead and adjusting the blankets with a gentleness that only heightened your sense of vulnerability. You felt the weight of his presence settle beside you, grounding you, his warmth a silent reassurance.

“Next time, don’t try to be a hero, yeah?” he said, his voice a blend of teasing and concern. His hand lingered, brushing a stray hair from your face, and you managed a small smile, a spark of warmth flickering within. For the first time that weekend, you felt truly at ease, wrapped not just in blankets but in the simple, undeniable comfort of not being alone.

As you drifted off, his voice murmuring softly in the background, the room seemed to breathe with you—a space no longer echoing with loneliness, but instead filled with trust, quiet companionship, and the kind of warmth that went beyond physical comfort. In his presence, the walls of solitude softened, the silence became a gentle hum, and the sickness felt more manageable. You closed your eyes, letting yourself surrender, not just to sleep but to the knowledge that sometimes, strength lay in letting others care for you.

And there, in the quiet glow of the evening, the two of you settled into a new rhythm—a quiet understanding that, at least in moments like these, you didn’t have to face the world alone.

Here's the current post schedule with some upcoming stories to look forward to!

[zerun0]

please a Jayvik fic? that would be super cool and awesome sauce so I can pretend s2 didn't happen and they're having fun working as lab partners <3

"For now" — Viktor x Jayce

English is not my first language. Feel free to comment on any of my mistakes and i will update the post, also I more than happy to receive suggestions, and advice on how to improve my work.

— !SFW! — Established relationship, Fluff, Flirting, kissing. — Word count: — 1,9k (Full uncut version on AO3)

The Hextech lab buzzed with the energy of early afternoon. Shafts of sunlight filtered through the high windows, lighting up the chaotic jumble of notes, tools, and half-finished devices strewn across every surface. Jayce and Viktor stood side by side, arms crossed, looking down at the creature sitting proudly on their workbench, a round, fluffy Poro with stubby legs and an unshakable confidence.

“I trust you two implicitly! ”— Heimerdinger declared, his tiny hands clasped behind his back as he beamed up at them. “This little one has a, shall we say, spirit for exploration, when it’s not napping.”

Jayce leaned forward, hands braced on his knees. — “Professor, are you sure you can’t just take it to your meeting? I mean, it’s not like the Council Chamber is a lab full of fragile, priceless equipment.”

“Oh, nonsense!” — Heimerdinger waved his hand dismissively. — “They wouldn’t understand his unique needs. Besides, you’re the perfect duo for the task.” — He gestured between the two of them, eyes twinkling. — “Viktor with his sharp mind, and Jayce with his...big heart. Surely you’ll manage.”

Viktor arched an eyebrow. — “Professor, I am not certain that babysitti-”

“Ah! Not babysitting! Mentoring!” — Heimerdinger corrected. He patted the Poro, which chirped happily. — “He has much to learn about the world, and you’ll provide him with a safe, structured environment.”

The Poro hopped in place, nearly knocking over a flask of shiny blue liquid. Jayce caught it mid-air with quick reflexes, sighing sharply as he set it back down. — “Safe and structured,” — Viktor repeated dryly but in a low tone, unheard.

“Now, I must be off. Don’t let him out of your sight!” — With that, the diminutive professor bustled out, leaving the two young inventors staring at the small, smug creature that now ruled their afternoon.

Jayce straightened, running a hand through his hair. — “Okay, this can’t be that hard. He’s just a little…fluffy thing. How much trouble can he cause?”

The Poro tilted its head innocently before leaping off the table and darting into the maze of equipment.

“Right,” — Viktor muttered, already reaching for his cane to follow.

— Half an hour later, the lab looked like a storm had hit it.

“Where did he go this time?” — Jayce asked, hands on his hips. “Under the shelf,” — Viktor replied, not even looking up from where he was recalibrating a delicate instrument.

Jayce knelt down, peering into the shadows. — “Come on, little guy,” — he coaxed, waving the brightly colored toy Heimerdinger had left. The Poro eyed him warily, a small item clamped in its teeth.

“Don’t chew on that!” — Jayce lunged, but the Poro darted out of reach, bounding across the lab and knocking over a stack of schematics.

“Jayce,” — Viktor said calmly, — “please do not let him destroy everything we have worked on in the past three weeks.”

Jayce groaned, gathering up the scattered pages. — “Why does it like chewing on stuff so much? What does Heimerdinger even feed it?”

“Chaos, apparently,”— Viktor replied, glancing toward the Poro as it hopped onto one of the tables. It sniffed at a set of neatly arranged tools before pawing at them — “He must be bored. Perhaps we should entertain him?”

Jayce stared at him. — “Entertain? Viktor, it’s a Poro, not a toddler.”

“Clearly, you have never babysat before.” — Viktor sighed and set down his tools. He approached the Poro. With surprising gentleness, he reached out, holding the toy at the perfect angle to catch the creature’s attention.

The Poro sniffed it, intrigued, before pouncing.

“See?” — Viktor said, holding the Poro in place with one hand while it gnawed happily on the toy. — “It is not so difficult.”

Jayce folded his arms, watching with a surprised smile. — “You’re good at this. I guess all those late nights in the lab have taught you patience.”

“Or perhaps I am simply better at adapting than you.” — Viktor’s smirk was subtle, but it lingered.

Jayce chuckled. — “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

“Immensely.” — Viktor replied.

They stood in silence for a moment, Viktor holding the Poro steady while Jayce leaned against the table, watching the two of them. The afternoon sunlight caught in Viktor’s pale features, highlighting the sharp angles of his face and the focused intensity of his eyes.

“You know,” — Jayce began, his voice quieter, — “you’re always surprising me.”

Viktor glanced at him, eyebrow raised. — “Am I?”

“Yeah. Like,” — He paused for a second — “I didn’t think you’d be the kind of person who’s good with animals. But… you are.”

“Hmm.” — Viktor considered this for a moment before returning his attention to the Poro. — “I suppose I have an affinity for difficult creatures.”

Jayce laughed, the sound warm and unguarded. — “Are you calling me a difficult creature?”

“Do you require constant supervision and occasionally eat things you should not?” — Viktor shot him a sidelong glance.

Jayce held up his hands in mock surrender. — “Okay, fair-”

The Poro squeaked suddenly, leaping from Viktor’s hands and bounding toward another set of delicate instruments.

“Not again,” — Viktor sighed, already moving to intercept. Jayce followed, their shoulders brushing as they reached the table at the same time. Viktor’s hand caught the Poro, and Jayce steadied the precarious setup of tools.

For a moment, they were close, closer than usual. The Poro squirmed between them, but neither moved.

“Jayce,” — Viktor said quietly, his tone neutral but his gaze intent. — “You are staring again.”

Jayce blinked, caught off guard by Viktor’s observation. The air between them felt heavier now. He straightened awkwardly, still holding the resistor, and glanced away.

“I, uh… wasn’t staring,” — Jayce said, his voice not quite as confident as usual.

Viktor’s expression softened just a fraction, the faintest hint of amusement tugging at the corner of his mouth. He leaned back slightly, shifting his weight onto his prosthetic as his golden eyes lingered on Jayce.

“You are a terrible liar,” — Viktor replied, his voice quieter now, almost teasing.

Jayce exhaled a nervous laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. — “Maybe. Or maybe you’re just too good at reading people.”

“That is possible,” — Viktor admitted, his smirk fading into something more thoughtful. He tilted his head slightly, studying Jayce as if trying to decipher an equation. — “But it is not often you are at a loss for words. I find it…interesting.”

Jayce’s pulse quickened under Viktor’s gaze, and he suddenly felt very warm in the already stuffy lab. — “You’ve got this way of throwing me off balance, you know that?”

Viktor raised an eyebrow. — “And here I thought you were the unshakable one.”

For a moment, silence fell between them, broken only by the faint hum of the outside world and the occasional chirp from the Poro, now happily chewing on its toy on the other side of the room. Jayce hesitated, then took a small step closer.

“Viktor,” — he began, his voice low, — “I don’t know if I’m just imagining this, but…”

“You are not,” — Viktor interrupted, his tone even, though there was a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes.

Jayce’s breath caught. Viktor rarely spoke so plainly, and hearing him admit it sent a rush of heat through Jayce’s chest. Slowly, he reached out, his fingers brushing Viktor’s forearm. Viktor didn’t pull away.

“Are you sure about this?” — Jayce asked, his voice barely above a whisper. — “Am I reading the signs correctly?”

“Yes” — Viktor broke the silence after a few long teasing seconds.

Jayce smiled, his heart pounding as he closed the remaining distance between them. The quiet hum of the lab seemed to fade into the background, leaving only the sound of their breaths, shallow and uneven. He lifted his hand, fingers trembling slightly as he lightly cupped Viktor’s jaw. Viktor’s skin was cool under his touch, his breath hitching in response.

Viktor’s hand hovered uncertainly at Jayce’s waist before finally settling there, his grip hesitant but firm. Jayce felt a shiver run through him at the contact, his chest tightening as he took in the vulnerability in Viktor’s gaze.

Slowly, he leaned in, his thumb brushing along the sharp line of Viktor’s cheekbone. When their lips met, it was tentative at first, as if testing the waters. Viktor tensed briefly, but then he relaxed, leaning into the kiss with a quiet sigh.

Jayce’s hand slid to the back of Viktor’s neck, pulling him closer as the kiss deepened. Viktor’s fingers tightened at Jayce’s waist, drawing him in as if the space between them was unbearable. It was unlike anything Jayce had expected… soft, electric, and somehow grounding all at once.

Viktor’s other hand came up, tentative at first, brushing against Jayce’s chest before resting there. Jayce could feel Viktor’s pulse through his fingertips, quick and unsteady, mirroring his own. Their movements grew less cautious, lips parting as the kiss turned warmer, more urgent.

Jayce’s free hand found Viktor’s waist, his thumb brushing over the fabric of his coat. Viktor responded with a quiet noise in his throat. He pressed closer, feeling the cool edge of Viktor’s prosthetic against his leg, a detail that grounded the moment in reality despite the overwhelming intensity.

“Jayce,” — Viktor murmured against his lips, the sound low and breathless.

“Yeah?” — Jayce replied, his voice rough as he barely pulled back.

Viktor didn’t answer, instead tugging him back into another kiss, hungrier this time. Jayce’s hand slid down to Viktor’s hip, fingers gripping just hard enough to make Viktor’s breath hitch again.

And then—

The door creaked open.

Jayce and Viktor broke apart with the speed of two guilty schoolchildren, Jayce stumbling back into a stool, nearly knocking it over. Viktor turned sharply, his hand darting to adjust the nearest instrument as if he’d been working all along.

“Ah, there you are!” — Heimerdinger’s cheerful voice filled the lab as he bustled in, utterly unaware of the thick air of awkwardness hanging between them.

“I’ve come back for our little friend,” — Heimerdinger continued, oblivious to the tension. — “The council meeting finished ahead of schedule, and I believe it’s time for a walk, and perhaps a treat!”

Jayce cleared his throat, his face burning as he tried to compose himself. — “Oh, uh, great! He’s… been fine. No trouble at all.” — He shot Viktor a quick glance, but Viktor was steadfastly avoiding his gaze, his attention fixed on the tools in front of him.

Heimerdinger crouched down to scoop up the Poro, who chirped happily at the sight of its owner. — “Ah, there you are, my mischievous little friend! I trust you didn’t cause too much chaos?”

The Poro squeaked innocently as it nuzzled against Heimerdinger’s face.

“No chaos,” — Jayce said quickly, flashing a nervous smile.— “Everything was… under control.”

“Splendid!” — Heimerdinger said, cradling the Poro like a prized treasure. He glanced around the lab, seemingly pleased with what he saw. —“And you’ve made excellent progress, I see. Such dedicated young minds, you make me proud!”

“Thank you, Professor,” — Viktor said smoothly, though there was a slight stiffness to his tone.

Heimerdinger didn’t seem to notice. — “Well then, I won’t keep you from your work any longer. You’ve certainly earned some peace and quiet.” — He gave a final, beaming smile before heading toward the door, the Poro perched happily in his arms.

The door clicked shut behind him, leaving the lab in heavy silence once again.

Jayce exhaled a long breath, running a hand through his hair. —“That was…”

“Fortunate,” — Viktor finished, his voice dry but his cheeks faintly flushed.

Jayce turned to him, a sheepish grin spreading across his face. — “I thought he was never going to leave.”

Before Jayce could say anything else, Viktor leaned in, his lips brushing against Jayce’s in a quick, soft kiss. It was light, almost tentative, but enough to send a jolt of warmth through Jayce’s chest.

When they pulled away, Jayce smiled, his heart racing. —“I think we’re good,” he murmured.

Viktor’s lips curled into a soft smile. — ���For now.”

[nebulousbrainsoup]

[23:17]

SUMMARY: San has been stuck. Maybe it's time to let go. PAIRING: Choi San x gn!reader GENRE: angst angst angst AU/TROPE: nonidol au, exes WORD COUNT: 907 TAGS/WARNINGS: not beta read RATING: G A/N: back at it again, using fanfic to cope. also, thought a little timestamp might be a good way to get me back into writing for ateez. shout out yappers [ @justhere4kpop, @cheolism, @kwanisms, @yoonguurt ] for helping me craft this.

The diner still looked the same. The barstool San settled on still had a tear in the vinyl straight down the center, and it still jolted under his weight, tilting a bit to the right. He still had to squirm until it clicked back into place, and even then he spun away from the counter without his leg as a brace. The same mismatched coffee mugs, donated by local businesses for advertising, were still stacked up on the shelf in front of him, and the waitress still grabbed the third one from the left—this time, something from an insurance agent whose name had long been rubbed away—and filled it in the same movement.

She didn’t reach for the next mug from the left anymore. That had changed.

Everything else remained the same. 

San still ordered a slice of apple pie, warmed up, à la mode, while he doctored his coffee with a little creamer cup and a packet of sugar. He still held his steaming mug in both hands, clutching it close to stave off the winter chill that had followed him. He still made small talk with the waitress before she sauntered back to the kitchen to fill his order, and his eyes still drifted over to the windows, watching as the snow fell lazily. The lights still reflected back at him in the glass, the one in the back corner, just above the kitchen door, flickering every few seconds.  

Silence fell over him, no one peering out from behind him in the reflection to prompt him with a question or lean over and show him a new cat video. That had changed. 

So little had changed, but so much had changed. San closed his eyes, drew in a deep breath, held it, and exhaled shakily. 

The waitress still spoke the same chipper greeting as she set his food in front of him, but her smile these days was just a little melancholy. He still savored his treat, balancing each bite between the pie and the ice cream and making sure not to wash the taste away too quickly with his sips of coffee, but when he finished and looked at the clock, only fifteen minutes had passed, and he hadn’t needed a refill of his mug. He still went up to the same cash register to pay, but now, his bill was half the price it should have been. The long brown coat was the same one as last winter, and he pulled it tight around himself in the same fashion he always did as he stepped into the night, but it felt stuffier with the fleece scarf around his neck, too.

Last winter, it would have been around yours. 

He wasn’t sure what exactly had happened, where he’d gone wrong. One morning, he’d woken up beside you, pouring his love into every soft kiss he planted on your lips. You looked at him like he’d hung the stars. The next, his bed had been cold, and when he’d found you staring out the balcony window at the winter’s first snow, you’d slipped away from the wrap of his arms around your waist.

“Jagiya?” 

“I don’t think we should see each other anymore.”

The breath left him like he was still in the room, still staring at you, still stunned and floundering for the words to beg you to stay. San inhaled sharply, the chill air filling his lungs bringing him back to his senses, and kept walking. He wasn’t sure when he had stopped.

He’d spent a few hours angry. At you, at the world… At himself, for whatever it was he’d done to make you leave him. It faded quickly, leaving a simmering hurt behind, sadness mixing with confusion. It had been so sudden, and even in the minutes you’d spent gathering your things, you hadn’t bothered to spare him an explanation.

His search for one had been entirely fruitless. Texts went unanswered, calls rang through, and after the first time that little red exclamation point taunted him, telling him his message could not be delivered, he gave up. The anger came back for a split second, of course, but most of what he’d felt was a sense of defeat and a fresh wave of sadness. He would never have an answer, would never know why. 

He still wondered, of course. On nights like tonight that were a little too quiet, a little too cold, a little too dark, he wondered. Without you, everything was still the same. His coffee tasted just as bitter, his pie just as sweet. Snow still fell and lights still flickered and the world still turned. He was still the same man, still had the same cat you’d loved so much, laughed at the jokes you’d fall over onto him to and worked at the same dead-end job you cheered him on through. He had not changed, nor had the world, but it seemed so much dimmer without you beside him.

Joyous laughter contrasted the sorrowful sigh he released as the bus doors opened. He stood just to the side, let the people filter off—and barely caught you in his arms as you stumbled down the slick steps and nearly fell into the snow. You still looked the same. The snow still fell, the wind still chilled him, and the bus doors began to close.

San smiled as you righted yourself, a joyless thing, and let you go.

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