#and you only give half a crap about the words they say in those so why is it when i pick something & it happens to be animated...

[katniss-evermeme]

Update regarding last night's post: My brother (age 13, definitely has heard worse when he went to public school) has now been banned from watching Spy X Family because of the "language".

If you want evidence that my mom is an absolute whackjob, she willingly let him watch Deadpool and Venom when he was in elementary school.

[biting-miguel-ohara]

Age Difference with Logan Howlett

A/N: I hope this satisfies both the age difference and the bratting for this request. It’s not mentioned in the fic, but I wrote the Reader to be in his twenties or so.

ALSO!!! This fic is dedicated to the wonderful anon who sent me such a nice ask the other day. Thank you for your words; they were deeply appreciated. Also, bc it wouldn’t be here without them, this is dedicated to the anon who requested it. I hope it fits what you were wanting <3

Written for an ftm!Reader

Link to masterlist here

CW: bratting; implied age difference (Reader is younger than Logan); language; explicit sexual content; smut; mentioned spanking; Reader’s arousal is called slick; Logan carries Reader; Reader is called devil, pretty boy, and good boy; spanking; errrr Logan smacks Reader’s parts; Reader’s parts are called dick and hole; mentioned crying; slight fingering; Logan tastes Reader’s slick; unprotected penetrative sex; rough sex; missionary position, I think?; implied multiple rounds; implied cum eating; implied cunnilingus; no mentioned aftercare

1829 words

It starts as all your great plans do. By impulse and a touch of chaos.

“Hey. Can you get me a beer since you’re in the kitchen?”

You don’t even look up at the sound of Logan’s voice. You know he’s talking to you, but you make him say it again before glancing over at him. “Hmm? You want what?”

His eyes narrow. You know he can tell you’re up to something. “A beer. Please.”

You almost do it. Just for the addition of the please. But the chaos in you wins out. You turn away again. “Do it yourself.”

Then, just to add fuel to the fire, you add, “Old man.”

Silence. You revel in it. It’s not everyday you can get him like this.

After a few moments of you continuing to not get the beer, he stands up and gets it himself. Muttering, “Fucking brat,” on his way back.

You know you’ve gotten off lightly, but that’s not what you were wanting. No, you want to see him all riled up and pissed off. He always fucks you rough on those days.

You do it again on a mission.

“Hey, kid, can you pass me the—“

“No.” You hate it when he calls you kid. It makes you feel small. A little too young. And he usually remembers that.

“Please, can I have the—“

“Nope. Go fetch, old man.”

You can feel how much he wants to spank you. Smack you across the ass and growl out that you need to behave.

But you’re around others, so he just grunts angrily and goes to get it himself.

The final blow is when he’s in the mansion garage. It’s late. Everyone’s in bed except for him. And you, but only because you spent way too long waiting for him and now you’re pissed enough to go find him.

You lean against his workbench, watching him intently. You know he knows you’re there, but he only acknowledges you with a grunt.

Then, “Pass me that tool, will you?”

You know which tool he’s talking about. It’s literally right next to you. But you hold his gaze as you speak. “No. Get it yourself, old man.”

His jaw clenches. After a moment, he steps back from his motorcycle and brushes off his jeans. He turns to face you, gaze dark and unyielding. “You know, I’m getting real sick of your fucking attitude.”

His tone sends a thrill down your spine. All dark and growly and low. You’re not surprised to feel slick gathering in your boxers.

But he pauses. Sniffs the air. When he refocuses on you, his gaze is hungry. “So, this is a game to you, huh? You’re being a brat on purpose.”

You cross your arms, still holding his gaze. “And what if I am? We both know you can’t handle me, old— Fuck!”

He scoops you up, throwing you over his shoulder with ease. You squirm; half in discomfort, half because it’s so fucking hot. You know he knows, but still you protest. “Logan, put me down! I’m not a fucking kid!”

“You sure act like one,” he snarls back, striding purposefully through the dark halls. His hand coming up to grip your ass. “Sassing me and giving me that crap attitude. Can’t even act your fucking age for once. Gotta make me do all the goddamn work.”

“I didn’t mean—“

“I know exactly what you meant, you little devil.” His fingers dig into your ass, a subtle warning. “You meant to have some good old fun with me, didn’t you? Maybe get me all riled up so I’ll fuck you all nice and angry like.”

You keep your mouth shut this time. He knows you a little too well.

At your lack of an answer, he spanks your ass. Hard. You yelp and squirm, not expecting the blow at all. “Logan!”

“I asked you a question. Answer it.”

“Yes! Yes, that’s what I was doing!” You whimper a little. Maybe if he wasn’t carrying you, you’d give him more attitude. But in this position? You’re practically defenseless.

Not to mention, the puddle of slick in your boxers is getting uncomfortable with your pants on.

So you keep quiet, letting him carry you without issue to his room. As you pass, you’ve never been more grateful that Logan’s room is the furthest in the mansion. You can be as loud as you want without disturbing too many of the teachers.

Some of them will just have to suffer.

Logan opens the door to his room and enters. Shutting it behind him.

“You little motherfucker,” he growls, tossing you on the bed. “Strip. Now.”

You scramble to obey before you even realize you’re doing it. Pushing your pants halfway down your legs before it occurs to you to argue.

He can sense your hesitation. He lets out a low growl, eyes narrowing. You resume taking off your pants.

“That’s a good boy.”

A part of you preens at the praise. The other part wants to snark back. You just pull off your shirt and keep quiet.

Your boxers are sticky with slick. Sticky and uncomfortable. You need them off, and soon. You don’t know if you can go another moment without Logan touching you in some way.

As if on cue, Logan reaches over and hooks his fingers under the waistband of your boxers. He yanks them down, making you squirm from the sudden rush of cool air against your sensitive body.

“Logan… don’t be—“ You stop. Now is not the time for whining, especially not with that look in his eyes.

“Don’t be what?” His voice is low, a dangerous challenge. “Don’t be what, pretty boy?”

You squirm and fight back a whimper as he forces your legs up and apart. Pressing your knees to either side of your chest. Exposing you to him.

When you don’t answer, his hand comes down. Hard, right on your aching parts. You yelp, words bubbling out of you. “I was gonna say don’t be mean! But— Then I remembered—“

“You want me to be mean.” He growls, low and deep. “Fucking greedy little thing. You’re never satiated, are you? Always whining and begging after me for more.”

His hand comes down again, the wet slick coating your thighs only making the sound worse. You jolt this time, blinking back prickles behind your eyes. You know he’s trying to get you to cry. But you’re not going to give it to him so easily.

Even if you really, really want to.

His fingers swipe along you, gathering up your slick and circling around your throbbing dick. You shudder at the pleasure, whimpering softly. It feels so good after the pain.

He pops his fingers into his mouth, sucking the slick from them. He groans softly, eyes darkening at the flavor. “You taste delicious. If you weren’t so damn bratty, I’d consider feasting on you. But you had to go and be a little bastard.”

His hands move to his belt, unbuckling it and letting his pants drop to his ankles. He steps out of them, stripping out of his boxers as well.

Your mouth waters. He’s already hard, so thick and long you can practically feel him in your guts already. You wanna suck him off so bad. Make him see you could be a good boy.

But the desire for him to fuck you is even stronger.

“Please, Logan,” you whisper.

“Please what?”

“Please fuck me.”

He smirks. “Since you asked so nicely…”

He lines himself up, leaning over you. He pins your hands down, gripping your wrists firmly in one hand. “I’m going to fuck the brat right out of you. And if it doesn’t work the first time, I’ll do it again and again until you’re too cockdumb to argue.”

The threat sends a thrill down your spine. You open your mouth to say something snarky, but he pushes in. Slowly working his cock deeper and deeper into you. Splitting you open.

Your words die on your tongue, replaced by a whiny moan. You clench hard around him, making him growl and dig the fingers of his free hand into your hip.

“That’s— fuck— much better.” He grunts, slowly rolling his hips to push his cock further into your leaking hole. “God, I love the sounds you make. So desperate and needy.”

“Fuck, ahhh! Logan!” You clasp your hands together, squeezing tightly as your body takes him. It feels like heaven; being split open until you feel like you can’t possibly take any more.

He finally bottoms out, allowing you a moment to adjust to his size. Then he pulls out and slams back in, making you arch and babble. He does this a few more times; slow, strong thrusts that split you apart and go so deep you swear his dick must be reaching your stomach.

Then he picks up the pace, and your mind turns to mush. You can’t think, can’t moan, can’t do anything but babble out cries of his name. You’re arching, writhing, squirming desperately to be able to hold onto him.

But he keeps your hands pinned firmly down. Speeding up until he’s fucking you roughly. Like you’re nothing but a thing for him to use.

“That’s my good fucking boy,” he snarls out. “Taking me so well.”

You can feel your orgasm mounting. Building and rising until you’re begging, pleading, and finally sobbing for him to let you cum. You know better than to cum without permission, especially when he’s all riled up like this.

“Cum for me, you little brat. Cum for me like a good boy.”

You clamp down on him, squeezing him as your orgasm hits. You arch and cry out, your vision going fuzzy.

A moment later, you relax into a puddle. Melting into the sheets as he continues to fuck you. Making you whine softly from the shocks of pleasure and warmth seeping through you.

With one last big thrust and a snarl of your name, Logan pulls out, cumming all over your dick and hole. He pants, releasing your wrists to drag a hand down his face. “Fuck.”

He sounds out of breath, but his eyes smolder with embers of heat. “You did good.”

You give him a lazy grin, stretching a bit. “Wanna clean me up? Or am I still too much of a brat for that?”

He huffs, a low growl in his tone. “Oh, I’ll clean you up alright. I’m making good on my promise. I’m fucking that attitude right on out of you.”

For a moment, you’re sure he has to be joking. You’re already weak from the strength of your first orgasm. He’s not really gonna make you go again, right?

But as he moves to lay between your legs, a couple things become clear. One, you’re in for a long, long night.

And two? He looks way too good between your legs.

[cheol-e-kat]

Hi! I love your works! For the bingo list can I request monster with cheol? I loved the mingyu one a lot

Thank you! 🫶🏻

so demon!cheol is maybe a bit different, but i hope you like him - he needs his own long fic tbh

♡ kat

bingo squares: monster

pairing: choi seungcheol x f!reader

genres: monster!seungchoel, demon!seungcheol, magic au, fluff, dark themes (they can both exist)

summary: y/n is stuck with the most useless demon to exist until he suddenly makes himself very useful

word count: 2.9k

warnings: below cut

monster fucking, oral sex (f. receiving), fingering, penetrative sex, cum eating, monster dick, breeding kink if you squint, eggs (iykyk), implied impregnation

having your own demon was largely useless. at least if that demon was seungcheol. his most useful feature was running errands - like picking up milk and cat litter. 

but the rest of the time, he mainly spent lounging around your apartment, usually reading whatever books were around. in fact, your book collection seemed to have suspiciously grown of its own accord since you ‘inherited’ him from your grandmother. you weren’t sure where he was getting them from, since half of them were in an italian dialect that your phone couldn’t recognize, but there they were, taking up space, just like seungcheol. 

having never really met your family, it had been shocking to have a demon show up and knock on your door, to say the least. in fact, you treated him like you would treat any psycho off the street and slammed the door in his face and locked all the locks. 

except, surprise, he could basically walk through walls. which he did whenever it was least convenient, like when you were showering and he had some random deep thoughts to share about a news article (you canceled your new yorker subscription because of him). 

or when you were napping, and he wanted to play animal crossing. 

or when you were dead asleep and he wanted to play the cat restaurant game on your phone. 

he refused to have his own phone. because yours existed, and he only liked the cat game and sometimes wordle when he was “acutely bored.”

you often wondered if killing him had any consequences. especially since you had already tried breaking whatever it was that bound you together, but that apparently involved some ancient-level crap beyond burning sage, so you had given up. but would you be prosecuted for slaying a demonic creature, you wondered, but decided he would probably just show back up, no worse for wear.

not to mention, you had been in a fairly foul mood lately. very snappy with everyone - you scowled at a baby for fuck’s sake. so you decided you needed a little personal reset, and that meant getting the worst excuse for a demon ever, out of your hair, at least for an hour if you were lucky. 

your plan was simple - give him an insane amount of errands that required him to roughly hit up every borough of the city. you made a tediously long list of things you needed - you fully knew that besides refusing a cell phone, he refused to use his abilities (whatever those were) to get around the city, not to mention he said he found the subway “enlightening.”  you rolled your eyes, making detailed notes of exactly which market he needed to visit for which item. 

in all reality - if someone really questioned you, you would have to admit that, despite how obnoxious you often found seungcheol, he was insanely handsome and maybe intimidating - at least based on the way people literally moved out of his way on the sidewalk, which was perhaps his most impressive trait. 

but he was also persistently around you and with zero boundaries, which meant you couldn’t just invite someone over for a quick fuck. you needed some time to do it yourself, maybe even a few times. and then you would feel like mary-sunshine again. but you needed him out of the apartment! especially since he had been showing up in your dreams lately, which was really fucking with your mind. his handsome face invading your dreams had to end.

but even as you were making your insane list, you could feel him hovering around you. when you felt his chin rest on your shoulder, you wanted to elbow him in the stomach. 

“why do you want mixed olives from there? there are already olives here, and you hate those,” he commented, his husky voice way too close for comfort. 

“some recipe i found,” you mumbled. 

“but you can’t stand them,” he tried again.

you shrugged, and he only leaned closer, his arms gently encircling you as he read your jumbled handwriting. you were mostly used to this too. he had an infuriating way of getting very close, sometimes without you even noticing. you thought it was solely to annoy, but no, he genuinely didn’t seem to understand why you constantly tried to have space from him - and made up for it by crowding you even more when any opportunity presented itself. it was a losing battle. 

you had given up explaining to him how your bed was yours because he insisted on napping there after watching whatever daytime tv show he was suddenly obsessed with - and that was months ago. 

but today, he would be out of the apartment. you were making sure of that. no random appearances. just peace and quiet and you and your vibrator doing god’s work. 

you finished the list and turned, pressing it to his chest, “if you wouldn’t mind doing the one thing you do for me.”

he watched you for a moment like he was on the verge offering some pithy response, but he just sighed and took the list. and then proceeded to take ages to actually leave. you stood watching him fumble around for who knows what, tapping your foot impatiently because you hadn’t considered that even him leaving could be such a production. 

“stop glaring at me,” he called out, “i’m leaving, okay - to run all of your precious errands,” he was annoyed, but at least he was walking out the door. you ran behind him to lock it. 

and finally, you could get down to business. you practically ran to your room and dove under the covers. this was a timed thing - you couldn’t waste a second. 

you pulled up some very dubious porn, but whatever - it was for the greater good. you didn’t bother taking off your sleep shorts and underwear, just shoving your vibrator down your pants where you needed it most and proceeding as required - lube wasn’t a luxury you could afford in the race to have several uninterrupted orgasms. 

but no - no, no, no - you’re brain froze. you had felt the small shift next to you in bed. your eyes went wide, then squeezed shut as you tried to stop everything you set in motion. you were dreaming - this wasn’t real.

but no, it was real - because he spoke. “when you’re finished can i have your phone?” he whispered, he was lying on what you begrudgingly acknowledged was his side of the bed. 

how was it that this was the one time you wanted him out of the house, and he basically made everything appear from thin air all because he wanted to play the cat restaurant game. on your phone, which was in your bedroom. with you. playing the kind of porn you would rather die than confess to watching, while you were furiously trying to stimulate your clit. 

you froze completely - you were mortified, but also how was this your life, you wondered. 

he poked you cheek gently, “y/n? i need to check my tips jar - it maxes out at 40,00 little fish monies.”

“seungcheol, fuck off,” you whispered with every ounce of civility you could muster. 

“you’re almost finished - just like a minute or so and then i check my game,” he trailed off. 

you thought you might combust, turning to look at him, “I’LL BE FINISHED IN A MINUTE? no! and you know what? no more cat cafe!”

“cat restaurant, actually,” he corrected, smiling - dimples on full display. 

“i don’t fucking care! no more cat-based food games on my phone, i’m deleting them and your games account!”

“noooo,” he whined, as you navigated to the games hub - he was suddenly straddling you and fighting for your phone - he could pry it from your semi-warm dead hand as far as you were concerned. 

you wrestled back and forth until he finally had you trapped under him using what felt like more than his body weight.

“don’t you dare delete my account,” you were surprised to see his eyes were a glowing deep blue instead of their normal dark-coffee brown, “do you know how many ads i’ve sat through to expand my cat empire, y/n - i finally have the little spa area open,” he sounded so serious and simultaneously so ridiculous. 

you glared at him, trying to focus all your rage on him for ruining your afternoon of solo sex. 

he stared at you for a moment, swallowing hard - “look what if i help you with your endeavor, and then you won’t need to do anything permanent,” he offered, his eyes drifting towards your phone, which only made you tighten your grip on it.

“helping me with my problem would be you disappearing forever,” your voice was more acidic than you meant it to be. 

he immediately pouted, “look, it’s a genuine offer, okay - i do have experience,” he stared at you with big, round eyes that could unquestionably peer into your soul. 

you groaned dramatically and tried to pull out of his grip, which was completely useless. “what is it with you and the cat games?” you asked out of pure exasperation. you had already given up on an orgasm, having switched your vibrator off almost the instant you heard his voice. 

“you know, you sit down and watch happy little animals sit and eat and eat and sit - you just get to turn your brain off for a bit, it’s nice,” he shrugged, still watching you. 

you stared at him for a moment, finally sighing, “just get out, okay, let me change and you can have your game back,” you folded like a sad, wet paper bag. 

you closed your eyes, waiting for him to let go of you and leave. instead, you felt a small kiss on your cheek. your eyes snapped open to find him still leaning over you. 

“let me help,” he said, voice gentle, his hands squeezing your wrists softly. 

you wanted to smack him - him and his stupid cute face. why couldn’t he just actually go to the stores like you had asked, you wondered to yourself.

he rolled his eyes, leaning down to whisper, “because i know when you’re up to something,” his lips brushed your skin. 

it was genuinely trying on your mental faculties that he knew what you were thinking. literally, every thought. it was why he never even asked for the passcode for your phone. and why he regularly answered questions you never verbalized. 

“so then you could have just let me have time to myself,” you pouted. 

“mmmh, but i can be so much more helpful with this little project, instead of going to get the olives i know you don’t like from a store across town in the rain,” he whispered and nipped teasingly at your earlobe. 

you shivered from the contact. you tried to make your mind blank, not exactly wanting him to know how good it already felt to be under him - he already knew too much about you. and this would only serve as reasons for him to be clingier. 

“maybe i don’t want help,” you whispered, your anger growing at the intrusion. 

he nuzzled closer, “i don’t think that’s true since you keep drafting messages to the guy you met a few weeks ago,” he whispered, kissing your throat gently. 

you felt the gentle pressure of his teeth on your throat and whined softly - the feeling was indescribably good. he purred, knowing you liked it, as his lips teased lower. his tongue marking your throat and collarbones. he worked his hands under your shirt, leaning up enough to pull it over your head. the way he gazed down at you was unexpected - his normal apathy was gone. his hands went to your breasts, massaging them, his thumbs brushing over your already pebbled nipples - he was gentle, taking his time teasing you before he dipped his head down, his lips making contact with the sensitive skin of your tits. you felt his teeth graze your skin as he sucked one nipple and then the other. 

he finally leaned up, looking a bit disheveled, and licking his lips, “i want them full,” he murmured. you weren’t completely sure what he meant, but you didn’t really care either as he made his way down your body, leaving a trail of kisses and bites. he pulled off your sleep shorts and underwear and lifted your hips so he could easily work his tongue between your slick folds, finding your clit almost immediately. 

the way he sucked the bud between his lips was mind numbing - you couldn’t help reaching down to grab his hair roughly, wanting him to know what you were feeling in the moment. your whines and moans weren’t enough, he needed to feel you gripping his long hair and pulling it every time his tongue made the most perfect contact. and when he added his fingers, you entered another plane of existence, pulling his hair, arching off the bed and moaning his name in a way that should have been embarrassing. it was like you had never been properly touched by a man in your life, and you were finally learning what pleasure was. 

you came quickly - your cum rushing past his fingers, which he seemed to enjoy based on the way he licked into you, lapping at your opening. you could feel his tongue working impossibly deep inside you. you knew without asking that he wanted you to come again. 

his fingers worked your clit while his tongue was still exploring your sticky walls, and you felt it again, the sweetest pleasure flowing through every part of your body. he leaned up, licking his lips, giving your pussy a gentle smack. 

“feeling better?” he asked, almost sounding sincere. 

you sighed and nodded, “much better.” you didn’t move, but found yourself wondering if he was as god at fucking as he was at eating pussy. 

he grinned, his hands tracing over your hips and stomach, “is that what you want now - my cock stretching you open,” he glanced up, watching you for a second before glancing back down. 

you could feel the way his fingers were carefully prodding your stomach - it was almost like he was looking for something. 

“is your dick as good as i think?”

he nodded without looking up, “you won’t even know what to compare it to,” he grinned, voice smug. 

you didn’t say anything - you just watched him undress, noiticing how good he looked, and that, at least from your angle, his cock looked fairly average. but then he was between your legs again, kissing you, licking into you, “you have no idea how perfect you are,” he whispered, his fingers still working to prep you. 

you had thought it often enough, and you knew he knew, but you found yourself confessing how gorgeous you found him. he smiled, kissing you just as he began sliding his cock inside you, “let me make you full,” he whispered when he started to move. you nodded, not caring what he did because you knew how perfect it felt. 

you were sure you were even slicker than before as he began moving inside you, but even though you could feel how thick and long his cock was, you knew you were taking every inch of him without any pain. it didn’t matter how brutal his pace was either, you only felt the pleasure of him stretching you wider than you thought possible - going deeper than you knew was possible - you were sure you could feel his dick slamming into your stomach with every thrust. you wanted to feel how deep inside you he was, but he kept pinning your hands back against the mattress, thrusting harder.

“i’m exactly as deep as you think, pet,” he groaned, snapping his hips, “i can go even further if you want.”

you laughed softly, even as you heard the deep, shivering moan that came from him. you felt the odd sensation of something entering you - not his cock or fingers, something cool and almost heavy - you orgasmed, seeing bright lights flashing behind your eyelids as you felt the same sensation, something entering you - something smooth and round going deep inside and clinging to your inner walls. 

“you’re really doing it?” you managed to whisper. 

he moaned, “told you i want you full,” he whispered, voice ragged as you felt another object pumped into your cunt, “want to breed you full, pet - make you mine forever,” he whispered, finally pulling out. 

you stayed in his arms after, enjoying how safe you felt.

“i’ve never given them to anyone before,” he whispered, kissing your temple.

you fell asleep cradled against him, your cervix full of his precious eggs. 

a/n: i love writing cheol, especially cheol in magical aus because low key i had this idea and now i want to know way more about him

♡ kat

bingo card master list

bingo v. 1 ⋆.˚ bingo v. 2 ⋆.˚ bingo v. 3 ⋆.˚ bingo v. 4 ⋆.˚ 333 followers bingo ⋆.˚

seungcheol: knotting + marking | professor (prof. choi, pt. 1) | monster | spanking (neighbor seungcheol) | big dick + hate sex | forced masturbastion (prof. choi, pt ii) | voyeurism + punishment | coffee shop au + forbidden relationship (untitled alpha!!cheol pt. 1) |

mingyu: lingerie + praise kink | bed sharing + big dick | praise + worship kink | vehicle sex + oral fixation | drunk pda + no underwear | enemies to lovers + tentacles |

seungcheol & mingyu threesome: oral |

tag list: @syluslittlecrow ☁︎ @gyuguys ☁︎ @haik-chu ☁︎ @tinyelfperson ☁︎ @lovetaroandtaemin ☁︎ @unlikelysublimekryptonite ☁︎ @gigglensnort ☁︎

♡ if you want to be tagged in my posts, go [here] & this is my [master list] if you want to read more

[internetdaddy98]

The Ties That Bind Us - Chapter 8

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[Series Masterlist]

Content Warning: small hints of pining ------------------------------------------------------------------------------

She brought him coffee one afternoon.

Not the crap from the break-room pot either. Real coffee, strong, dark, hot enough to burn the sleep off his tongue. It was in one of those overpriced paper cups from the café across the street, with a lid that clicked shut like armor and a handwritten "Dr. R" on the sleeve.

He stared at it like it was a bomb.

“It’s not poisoned,” you said, leaning her hip against the nurses’ station. “Though I thought about it.”

“You didn’t have to—”

“I know.” She shrugged. “But you looked like you were about to start biting people‘s heads off before.”

He took it. Their fingers didn’t touch, but it felt like they did.

“…Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it.”

She turned to leave, and he found himself watching the way her brown hair bounced behind her, like that moment in the supply closet hadn’t taken up real estate in his brain all day.

She hadn’t looked at him the same since.

The Emergency Room was relatively quiet for hours. Or maybe it wasn’t. Maybe Robby just couldn’t hear it over the sound of her. The way she moved between beds. The way she checked on a kid with a broken wrist and made him laugh within three minutes flat. The way she nodded thoughtfully at residents, giving them time to figure out the answer instead of barking at them the way he always did.

She worked differently than he did—softer around the edges—but with a sharpness beneath it, like a scalpel wrapped in silk.

He tried not to look.

But failed.

And when he did catch her gaze across the nurses' station, it was like a punch to the solar plexus. Not painful. Just impossible to ignore.

She held it for a beat too long and smiled. Then went back to her notes.

Around 5 p.m., they both found themselves in the lounge room. Again.

She was curled into the arm of the sagging couch, eating crackers from a vending machine bag, one foot tucked under her. Her stethoscope was draped across the other chair, and her hair had half-fallen out of its tie.

He paused in the doorway.

“You can sit, you know,” she said without looking up. “I don’t bite.”

“You’ve got jokes today,” he muttered, sinking into the couch.

“I’m sleep-deprived. My brain’s mush.”

They sat in silence for a moment. Comfortable, almost.

Then she said, “You've been tense today”

He glanced at her. “Have I?”

“You have that look like you’re running a hundred tabs in your head at once.”

He smirked. “That’s just my face.”

“I don’t think so.”

And damn her, she said it so gently. No challenge, no pressure—just curiosity. Just Y/N, sitting there like she hadn’t peeled back a layer of him and left it exposed on the breakroom floor.

“You always this observant?” he asked.

“Only with people who pretend they’re unreadable.”

His jaw tensed slightly. He looked away.

He didn’t like being seen. Not like that. Not too much.

She didn’t press, though. Just leaned her head against the back of the couch and closed her eyes.

They stayed like that for a while—her breathing slowing, him sipping the coffee she’d brought like it meant something more than caffeine. He didn’t know what he was doing, only that he didn’t want to leave.

And when she dozed off lightly, head lolling to the side, he watched her for a moment longer than was appropriate.

He stood, moved to cover her with his hoodie, then froze.

Bad idea.

Stupid idea.

His fingers brushed her shoulder anyway.

She stirred, eyelids fluttering open. “You don’t have to do that,” she murmured, voice sleep-soft.

“Go back to sleep,” he said, gruffly. “Ten minutes won’t kill you.”

She blinked up at him. And this time, he didn’t look away.

The air between them shifted again, thick and tight, full of the kind of things that had no place in breakrooms or hospital halls.

“You’re not as scary as you pretend to be,” she whispered.

And before he could say a word—before he could remind her that this was dangerous, that he’d already crossed more lines than he meant to—she closed her eyes again.

[balteredsworld]

my mistake. gregory house

🩺🥼 | you should've known better, but you don't. you were pathetically in love with house.

masterlist: greg house n all

warnings! age gap, office (?) romance, angst, fellow!reader, doc!reader, stageplay style format, lyrics sprinkled

you bite back tears.

house. (mockingly) are you gonna cry?

you. no, something counterfeit's dead. nothing to cry about.

he's staring at you with half squinted eyes, scoffing without reprieve, somehow colder than ice.

house. right... the fact that you have to say that proves there's something to cry about. so, what is it? what did you think it was?

you look away, blinking like you were guilty. a patronizing look's settled on house's face now. gears turning in eyes when he realizes you were stupid enough to get lovestruck in between casual banter and sex, and nights spent in the nook of this godforsaken office talking; tittering about more and less.

he drawls out in theatrical mortification.

house. oh god. i must really be that good. never realized i could dick you down into being lovestruck. oops!

his voice echoes in your head.

idiot, it's just sex.

house doesn't need to spell it out for you. you gave into an illusion that isn't, that wouldn't, and that couldn't. it was a girlish fantasy to think you could have it with him. yet, you clung onto some sliver of hope that he could transter his aptitude to his feelings and articulate those gentlemanly gestures into spoken words, and not fleeting silent declarations that were destined for the abyss. you suppose that the two of you will follow that fate. must be the law of entropy, or some other law of physics that house had mentioned in passing in your briefings.

you nod numbly, tongue retaliating without second thought. you could match him if he wanted. house isn't the be-all and end-all he pretends to be.

you. yeah, you fucked me so good i almost said three words.

house throws his head back, dissatisfied.

house. that's not an answer.

your brow shoots up, accusingly.

you. oh! you want an answer! i thought you'd already come up with that on your own minutes ago.

you know he wants a definite answer, unsatisfied being kept in the unknown. only, you know he only wants you to say what he already knows. he just wants the confirmation like a stupid autopsy.

you. what do you want me to say house? i don't know what you want me to say.

he barks.

house. you caught feelings! i don't know what you want me to do with that!

you. acknowledge them, house! like a normal fucking human being!

house sighs, licking his lips in careful consideration.

house. i'm too old for you. baseline feelings are just baseline. what you want is all the domestic crap that you know i can't give you. you're a doctor. i'd be a mistake.

you. then be my mistake! if you're so convinced you'll break my heart, break my heart. prove your hypothesis.

he blinks. your words hang heavy, waiting for something to come out of his lips. anything to put you out of your misery, but he doesn't.

you. (barely in a whisper) i'm offering my heart to you.

house. you...

you. be my mistake, house.

you eye him desperately, slowly faltering.

you. please.

but again, he doesn't say anything, merely standing with gaping eyes. you stay a moment longer, before you resign yourself pathetically.

house. you'll make me worse.

your brows crinkle.

you. what?

house. (slowly) you'll make me worse. you'll make me care, caring's for idiots. it's ordinary.

you blink, looking at him incredulously.

house. i can't be worse, l/n. i'm already bad. if i start caring, i'll be making myself a worse doctor. i can't be worse. i need to diagnose.

you. you're scared to jump ship because you'll do a bad job?

your words and tone are like his. you echo him down to the furrow of your brow. house sees that alarmingly.

you. you think that caring makes you ordinary? house, there's nothing ordinary about you! you're this god-like hotshot doctor who's always right, even if you're a jerk, you're right.

his eyes soften.

house. (musing) all the more reason to listen to me.

you. take a chance, house. otherwise tell me you don't care. say that i'm pathetic and we can forget about this.

house doesn't say anything, eyes steeling in contemplation. you wait, but he doesn't move. they were right. house isn't willing to sacrifice and compromise his objectivity for you. you'd read him wrong.

you swallow.

you. i understand.

you turn to leave, swallowing your nerve for the sake of your dignity. you'd thought that all those looks meant something, that sex wasn't just sex. but you're an idiot. you could say that for him.

it doesn't take a medical license to know that. even one of the fools in the er would know.

house leans on his table. the lamp casts a handsome shadow on his face, making his grey stubble glitter slightly. there's a totally grave look on his face. it's easier to be mean, but he holds his tongue for you.

house. i can't give you what you want.

you spare him a look, already by the door.

you. i don't want anything. just you.

somehow, you find the strength to chuckle, albeit weakly. it does nothing to lift the discomfort between the two of you.

you. but hey, it's just sex, right?

you try to appreciate his effort. he's never just mean, it's a shiny veneer he designed to shoo people away. underneath that, he's the most considerate man you've ever met.

but you can't. it would be easier if he was just plain mean, because at least you didn't have to know that he was lying to himself.

house. i... i'm sorry.

you. (solemnly) don't be. see you tomorrow.

instead of a silly apology, you rather him just call you pathetic. but you can't always get what you want, just like how house can't let himself say the words he's been saying to you with those infuriating eyes of his. but the two of you were destined to the same abyss those silent declarations vanished to.

it was never nothing, but the pain in his leg would never let him say that. he's convinced himself that he'll drag you to misery, so he watches you leave to see you in the morning like you'd been nothing more.

you end up his mistake either way.

[kairismess]

Hello!! Can I request a kageyama x reader? Where it's just high school fluff they're both crushing on each other :)

I love ur writing btw<33

hearts' day 008.

in which the king of the court has found his better half.

"...i don't have a crush."

he gruffly responded to you as he practiced his tosses, seeming a lot sloppier than how he performed before you asked him that question out of the blue. you chuckled, seeing how the question made him trip up on his feet and throw him off balance for a minute.

"well, what would you say if i told you i had a crush?" you challenged him, making him choke on his breath and forget he was ever practicing in the first place. his open hands received nothing and remained frozen in the air, the ball missing its mark and falling behind him as the blueberry haired boy stared up into the now empty space above him where no ball flew or awaited him any longer.

he slowly retracted back into a normal standing position, his arms falling to his sides, as he slowly turns to look at you, a dark storm cloud over his dark blue eyes as he crinkles up his forehead and nose at your words. "...is that so?" he asks you, a red hue tinting his cheeks a little as you smile and nod, with him not realizing who your crush is.

kageyana retrieves the ball to practice his serves again, all while keeping his ears sharp for hints on who this mystery crush of yours could be.

"he has short, dark hair..."

"uh-huh."

"and dark blue eyes..."

"mhm..."

"and a permanent scowl on his face, but it curls up into a happy, child-like smile when he's eating yogurt or drinking milk."

"o... kay."

you could not be talking about him right now... could you?

you chuckled and walked closer to him, the volleyball he forgot to receive in your hands after you picked it up for him, handing it to him shyly with a smile. "and did i forget to mention, he's very... talented at volleyball. like, crazy talented, i've never met anyone as dedicated to the sport as him. and i love him more and more everyday that i see him working hard to achieve his dreams."

kageyama's dark blue eyes widened, a tint of red strewn across his cheeks. "...hinata, you mean?" he asked you, all those hints you dropped earlier flying over his blueberry head.

you pout and playfully hit his head. "dumbass." you mutter, about to chuckle. kageyama couldn't help but glare at you a little, he wasn't exactly mad at you, but he was a little frustrated at you making him guess who you like instead of you outright telling him.

he captured your cheeks, squishing them with one hand in a tight grip. "spit it out, who is it?" "like i'd tell you, tobio..." "c'mon, get on with telling me, or else... i'll never tell you that i like you–"

oh crap.

your eyes met his, that slight tinge of red on his face shifting to a full blown flustered expression made kageyama let go of your cheeks, withdrawing from you by a few steps, looking away from you as he tried to forget what he just admitted to you, hoping you'd forget what he said, or even didn't get to hear a word of it.

"...you like me back?" you asked him in a shy whisper, making kageyama's ears perk up, his head whipping backwards to face you, his blush remaining on his face. "...like you back?" he repeated involuntarily, making you get a shy and flustered, smiling like a dork as you fiddled with your thumbs. "yeah... you like me, and i... i like you."

"i... i guess i do."

"you guess?"

"i-i mean... dammit." he muttered as he approached you, not even looking at you. and in the blink of an eye, he leaned over and pecked a soft kiss on your forehead, quickly moving away from you as he regret what he just did, while you remained in a blissful shock as a warm fuzziness flooded your entire body, making you smile even wider.

"hey, you can't just run off after giving me a kiss, tobio... lemme return the favor." you offered, grinning sweetly, threatening to make kageyama fall for you even more as he could only freeze up in place and nod slowly to your offer of returning his affections–and to him... this was nice, really, really nice. and fuzzy. and warm. and just so right.

he could get used to it... he was already missing you even though you were right here with him, oh, just what have you done to the blueberry boy's heart?

[hana-no-seiiki]

Omg the dog shapeshifter ask is amazing but like- cat. i can already imagine Tim being all over you and being one of those guys where half his personality is just that he has a cat. Dick would 120% invest in those hoodies with the pouch to carry their cats, and Jason just carries you everywhere (wiggles be danmed).

The only person who has any qualms about it is Alfred because everything is covered in cat hair lmao.

meow. more pawtastic cat villain! reader w/ batfam

@sophiethewitch1 👅

You tended to take the lead when it came to your relationships with the Robins

They were just too busy with duty and heroism that they rarely ever took the time to be or get into relationships. So you would help them, cover them in that area per se.

Though there were times, like an actual cat, that you suddenly hate their asses or be indifferent. You didn’t notice it yourself really. Sometimes you were just stressed from real life problems and whatnot

or dealing with Bruce’s constant sermons about how you were a bad influence on Jason. Blaming you for all these strung up bodies across the streets of Gotham that had been tied up with yarn and catnip.

sometimes you just wanted to reel back the persona you’ve built up as a villain and just chill out

but you see, if there’s anyone who would notice the slightest change in your demeanor it would be the batboys

Tim and Jason would be the first. They spend the most time with you.

Instead of giving them a kiss or a quick fuck after a job well done, you’d just say goodbye and leave.

Not even in your signature cat joke filled way of saying goodbye

Hell you would even just teleport out of there without a word

Tim would have most likely observed you more, but Jason? Jason would be on your ass in seconds

“Hey, kitty? We need to talk.“

Did I mention that the boys love to use various cat related nicknames for you? The cringier the better.

(Damian just calls you pussy at times)

In anycase, Jason knocks on your door. But you do not respond. Like, for a long fucken time.

Ofc, he smashed the door open.

And what does he see?

Well first it was nothing. I mean his eyes weren’t directly on the floor immediately . But then he move his gaze down,

You, in your cat form.

He just about screams. Shrieks. Like I could maintain his sense of dignity for you dear reader but nah. It started as a shout of surprise before it turned into a high pitched cry, and lastly cooing.

He’s confused at first and is worried about your sudden disappearance til you cleared things up.

Something about a curse that turns you into an actual cat at random moments.

You said it interrupted a lot of your civilian business (school, work, etc.) and so your mental health and well being took a decline.

And boy did Jason go mom mode.

He’s more on the practical side. He makes sure you’re comfortable and guarded especially when in dangerous situations.

Will never let you go on a heist with this curse on going. What if you get shot by a guard? What if you get kidnapped by those horrid animal pounds? Not to mention those perverts that would… no he shook his head.

Definitely keeps you within arms reach at all if not most times.

Tim finds out soon after. You tried to ask him to respect your privacy, but he couldn’t help himself. He was scared to death that he did something wrong or exposed something he did that breached your trust.

He immediately buys a ton of cat related products for you.

Not only that he does an extensive amount of research on cat health and diets.

His rooms gets covered by different studies on cat cellular makeup before he realizes that

Oh crap, he kinda enjoyed this.

And he hasn’t looked up how to actually cure this curse of yours.

Damian soon follows. He’s got it the worst out of all members.

Prides himself with his wide experience and knowledge with animals.

He uses visits to the vet as a threat when you misbehave.

But you’re a villain, you don’t get scared easily right? What’s the worse that could happen at the vet’s?

… yeah he almost got you neutered/spayed.

Safe to say that you were much more obedient after that.

Bruce isn’t that available or good with pets, so he mostly just funds whatever the boys do hoping that it’d lead to them not destroying stuff or killing people for you any more than before the curse.

Dick is the last to find out, and that was because Tim dropped a whole thesis about why the latter should definitely have more [Y/N]-cat-duty hours!

I mean just look at those charts! Your happiness is definitely at its highest when you’re with him

(ignoring the fact that he showers you with catnip)

Dick is definitely the

Cuteness aggression that borders on abuse type of cat owner

Very touchy with you.

And yes he invests a lot of money to get have pouches on his suits for you to be in. If not you’d be like that one cat from Spiderman Miles Morales just hanging out from a backpack of sorts, designed so you’ll never fall out.

Collars.

These men have collectively spent around hundreds of thousands of dollars on cat related shit

And you’re still wondering how tf this curse came to be

[deuteragonists-mismatched-socks]

A Break In Routine - Shane x Reader (Stardew Valley)

Another Shane SDV fic from my drafts with a couple strange gaps in it.

Warnings: mentions of recovering from alcoholism, being imperfect, guilt and self-loathing to a certain extent. Alcohol.

Word Count: 1.4k

Shane wasn't stupid. He knew you knew that. He noticed that, the closer you got, especially after that night on the cliff, you changed. Not so much in the way you dealt with him—you were kind and persevering as ever.

You stopped brewing. He had been out to the farm before, you had like ten kegs and an evergreen crop of hops and wheat to fuel them. And Shane wasn't stupid—he'd almost gone broke from buying the stuff before, so he knew it was lucrative. You'd have to be crazy to give that up. Farmers had it rough, especially ones that worked as hard as you. Having such an easy source of passive income should've been a no-brainer.

Oh, and you stopped bringing him alcohol. You were a social drinker—he'd seen you share Kahlua-and-coffee martinis with the good doctor or bond with Leah over a sweet red. But when it came to Pam and him, you were only ever seen with soda and some filling food in hand. He wondered if you thought he wouldn't notice. If he was too out of it or too naïve.

You visited JojaMart sometimes—normally just to check on him, never to buy anything—and you always had a tense look on your face whenever he was stocking the drinks section. That, that one actually hurt. Yeah, he had bad habits. He was working, only half successfully, on breaking them. But that made him think you really thought he had no self-control. That he was going to wander forward like a zombie and mindlessly rip into the Jack Daniels and Bud Lite. He shouldn't be trusted super far, but he thought he at least deserved the sliver of faith that would be required to believe that wouldn't happen.

That was what he was thinking about as he sat next to the fireplace, cola in a stein in his hand. See, he was doing better. He wasn't used to being fully lucid at this hour of the night, but he was getting there. It was significantly more uncomfortable, sitting there in silence when he wasn't half-catatonic. Everyone else was having a great time. Even Marnie was having a... whoa, beyond friendly conversation with the mayor. Hell, where were you, anyway? You were always trying so hard to make sure he wasn't alone, and now you leave him alone? Maybe he deserved it for all those times he blew you off.

"Hey!" You suddenly appeared in his line of vision. Suddenly, even completely sober, he couldn't sort out his feelings. He was grateful to you for watching out for him; he obviously couldn't do that himself. He was annoyed that you infantilized him. He was confused that you put up with him. Why didn't you just cut loose and stop holding yourself back for someone who has done nothing but screwed over their own life?

"What are you doing here?" Shane said. Crap. That wasn't what he meant to say, not at all. He meant to say 'Why do you stay? Why do you care? I'm not worthy of you.'

Your face fell and Shane needed a drink or six. "Trying to hang out with you," you responded, your voice edged with anger and sadness. "I was—y'know what, I'll leave you be, I just wanted to give this to you."

You held your closed hand out expectantly, and he obliged with an extended palm. 

You dropped a pearl into it.

"Wha—" his mouth dropped open in disbelief. "Oh, wow, Farmer, how did you know this is my favorite?"

You were already gone. He checked the clock on the opposite wall. Well, it was already 12. Maybe you just wanted to get a good night's sleep. He hoped that was all.

But Shane wasn't stupid.

When you exited your house at 6:10 AM sharp the next morning, you almost tripped over him before noticing that Shane was sitting on your steps. This was a huge break in his routine, and it worried you. "Shane? What're you—" You stopped yourself, realizing that you were parroting his words from the previous night. 

"I didn't mean what I said," Shane said abruptly. His murky brown eyes looked into yours with absolute earnesty, and you noticed something rather special about them. They weren't teary or red-striped. He wasn't hungover, at all. 

Your brow furrowed. "About what?"

"About—about... just, how I treat you, y'know. Always blowing you off and acting like you're not worth my time. I know it should be the other way around," his gaze dropped to the ground and he scuffed his foot against the wood of the front steps.

You lowered yourself to sit next to him, knees nearly touching. Time always seemed to stand still when you spoke to him—the sun was stuck in the sky, and you weren't worried about what you were going to get done that day.

"What do you mean, Shane?"

"You know what I mean, Farmer," he said, before exhaling and rubbing his hands on his pants. "I just... I'm not... good enough, for you. I'm a, uh, flash in the pan, I guess. What I'm trying to say... is I'm sorry," he sighed, risking looking up at you again.

Your eyes seemed to look through him. "Shane," you said gently. "You're good enough, for me, for anyone," you emphasized. "And I... do understand why you say the things you do, and they are unfortunate, but I appreciate you recognizing that and apologizing."

Shane looked from your piercing eyes, to your hand that was resting on your knee, centimeters from his, back to your eyes. "I'm trying. Really trying."

You took his hand, and his heart rate spiked. "I know you are, and I know that Marnie and Jas and I really appreciate it."

"Yeah," Shane whispered. Part of him felt guilty—that somehow, Jas wasn't enough to straighten him out. But he was grateful that somehow, you were.

Your thumb rubbed the back of his hand,  comforting him further. He wondered how you could stand touching him. Even after that touching speech, he had a hard time believing you. Even if his personality, his character, was something you seemed to admire, which was beyond him on its own, look at him. He had gained... a number of pounds in the past eight months, he shaved maybe every three days, despite getting a five o'clock shadow by the end of that day. His hair was a genuine disaster, even though Marnie refused to admit it. He was physically clean (most of the time), and that was basically where the pros stopped.

"Thank you so much for coming over here this morning, Shane," you said. Shane had to suppress a shiver at the way you said his name. It didn't sound the way anyone else ever said it. Maybe it was just his imagination. 

But he was more than happy to keep imagining it. "I can't tell you... how much it means to me, that you're reaching out and, and trying. In the most non-patronizing way, I'm proud of you."

He could almost feel tears welling in his eyes. "You're—you're proud of me?"

He hadn't heard that since high school.

"Yeah, of course," you nodded genuinely.

He laughed, almost in disbelief. "Thanks."

You let go of his hand, and Shane had the chance to experience a split-second of disappointment before you used your now free arms to wrap him in a hug. "You can tell me if this is okay or not," you said, your words muffled by his Joja jacket.

"It's okay," he responded quickly, trying not to squeeze you too tightly.

You pulled back, wondering for a moment if it would be going too far, before you decided to press a quick kiss to his cheek. You stood, walking off to water your crops. "I should probably let you go, you don't wanna be late for work."

Shane's face was all pink, and he nodded after a moment's delay. "Right, yeah, um...thanks for listening to me," he stood as well. "See you later."

You watched him take the path from your house into town, zipping up his jacket against the wind. He had patched the holes in it.

[mandarinmoons]

Pairing: Spencer Reid x gender neutral reader

Word count: ~ 600

Summary: Spencer breaks up with you after seeing how much his job at The BAU affected you as he didn’t want to be the cause of your declining mental health, but ending the relationship had the opposite effect on you than what he thought

Spencer lied on his bed as he stared up at the ceiling, trying his best not to give into his desires of grabbing his phone and calling you because lord knows he’s the last person you’d want to talk to. He missed you terribly, but he knew you would be upset at him if he were to try and make contact.

The reason for that being is that Spencer forced himself to end things with you because he saw how his work life affected you. He’d lost track of how many times he’d found you fallen asleep behind his door for when he got home. He’d unlock the door and scoop you into his arms, his body shuddering from the cold that emanated from you. Or how he took notice of your thinning figure. You made sure that Spencer always had a full dinner platter whenever he got home, but he often saw you only finishing half of what was on your plate.

“I ate before you got home, I’m not that hungry,” is what you’d always say, but it didn’t stop Spencer from worrying.

After a few months of consideration, Spencer bit the bullet and tried his best to let you down easy. But unbeknownst to him there was never a way of doing things that way, because he was the love of your life and that day was the day you felt your heart break into so many small pieces that it would be impossible to mend it back together.

Spencer kept on imagining all of the ways you’d improve now that he wasn’t in your life. Maybe you’d learn to cook more or perhaps maybe you took on those yoga lessons you’d been dying to try out.

In reality though, you were having a hard time getting dressed and even harder time getting out of bed. You had your mother and friends check up on you daily to see how you were doing and every time you’d respond with “I’m okay,” when that was the farthest thing from the truth.

Half of the day was spent either lying in bed trying to read one of the last books Spencer had gifted you or being sat on the sofa while watching a crime show, the same show you’d watch while waiting for Spencer to come home, and now hoping that he’d magically come up to your door take you back.

A majority of the week's diet consisted of supernoodles and the occasional piece of fruit so you wouldn’t feel like complete crap. You’d chuckle to yourself bitterly as you’d remember a fact about the fruit you were having that was told by Spencer. Most of the time you didn’t understand any of the terminology he’d use, but you still loved to listen to him talk and as you ate away, you realized you’d never get to experience it again.

As much as it brought you a bit of ease whenever each day was over, it also brought along a bit of misery with it as it finally dawned on you that Spencer was really gone. He would never hold your hand again, he would never kiss your forehead again and you’d never hear the three words you loved most that came from his mouth,

“I love you.”

Taglist: @radioactiveinvisible @whoisspence @sreidisms @lanascinnamongirls @luvkatryna @sp3ncelle @iluvreid @khxna @keiva1000 @reidstheyfriend @hiireadstuff @pleasantwitchgarden @cynbx @kimm4710 @niktwazny303 @reidsdaisies @mindfullycriminal @cumulo-stratus @themarauderseraslut @gayfor-rosadiaz @gubsbuubs @multifandomsimp69 @chyozai @deppfanatic @potatovoyager @indyvelazquez @nini123 @justlivinginadaydream @kers505

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[s3raphimssins]

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷pairings: Chuuya x subordinate!reader (established relationship)

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷prompt: darling can I be your favorite <3,

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷Felix's Note: I listen to a new song and I suddenly get motivated to write a fic based on it so here ya go, a fresh chuuya x reader! Also I think as far as I've read it's gender neutral reader! :D

The way his eyes followed your every move was hard to ignore, according to his other subordinates chuuya had favorites and you were that favorite, when inquired about it he'd shut them off by saying something "you think the mafia has time for favorites? You dare question your superior?" And gave them work to do, but only those with sharp eyes could catch that pink that dusted on his cheeks. Whenever he spoke to you in contrast to his other subordinates his gaze softened, pupils dialated. The look of worry that would cross his face when he found out you got hurt even if it was a scratch.

Who knew behind the closed doors when he dismissed his subordinates, telling you to stay as he had some work for you,that lie he said only to lock the door to bring you in his arms, playing with your hair. He'd sit you on his lap as he worked on his papers putting his chin on your shoulders. And oh how he loved it when it was you you hugged him and embraced him while he did work.

How when he brought you to missions with him almost always he'd watch how you fought and he'd have to tear his eyes off of you, if it was up to him he could stare at that fierce expression you made while fighting showing your enemies no mercy, all day. That same expression that softened as he cupped your cheek when no one was there, how your eyes lit up when he would kiss you on the cheek whispering how well you did.

How training sessions with him were always less harsh, though you always told him to not hold back, he still couldn't bear the thought of hitting you accidentally, or even lifting his hand on you so he would assign you training with someone else instead to save himself the pain and guilt. The way he'd give in to the temptations to show off in front of you when you were watching him use his ability or fight. Hed whisper something like "my s/o is watching so closely I can't leave her hanging" As he obliterated his opponent. Knowing the effect he had on you.

His other subordinates would sometime question you, about his behavior if you had noticed any change but you just brushed it off denying it, as chuuya listened intently from behind as he walked pass. Sure they wouldn't realize him giving you half the paper work they got right? Sure they wouldn't realize how he brought you to a lot of missions with him? Oh and he doubts they'll notice how he keeps you by his side all the time. Their pea brains can't comprehend that crap according to chuuya.

And the end of the day he'd drop you back to your apartment convincing you to come with him instead, which in most scenarios you would comply. His subordinates would be panting with exhaustion by the end of the day from all the word he had them do while you happily sipped on your drink which he had brought for you, but they didn't need to know that. Sometimes you'd feel bad with the favouritism and ask him to not show it to you that much.

All his response would be, a kiss on the head as he ran his fingers through your hair and told you not to worry about that, and that you deserve the world and he'd gladly give it to you, he doesn't need to put others on that same pedestal with you as he smirks. At the end of the day it can be concluded he had a favourite and that was you, but you would be lying if you said you didn't relish that.

[with-my-calamitous-love]

lunar valleys in my mind

touya x reader

spending the night smoking cigarettes, eating takeout and kissing, you and your lover compare your beliefs on the universe. themes of death and nihilism, drawing from thoughts i’ve been having lately.

inspired by i hate it here

sometimes you feel like his consolation prize.

a lifetime of suffering, of burning up to the seems of his skin. a lifetime of believing comfort is a construct for fools, and finding warmth through setting himself ablaze. perhaps the universe decided to give him something, and perhaps, it was out of pity.

he doesn’t believe in pity, in good luck, in the existence of a god, or even in things being fair to him. he scoffed at those.

but if you truly were something, or rather someone, sent to ease his pain just a little… well, who is he to complain?

you’ve bugged him about smoking indoors, your compromise being that he open up all the windows before even thinking about lighting a cigarette. in turn, you’re cold. but that means you can lean cling to him and his embers for warmth. touya todoroki doesn’t feel cold- he isn’t capable.

he stands next to you, drying the dishes as you wash them. the lights are off, the only source of illumination being the refrigerator door left open. its warm, and that soft buzzing noise adds some ambience. laundry circulates in the back, and the leftovers sit on the counter, waiting to be stored.

“stop half assing it, touya.” you say, watching as we barely wipes the plates with the cloth wet. blue eyes flicker to you, and then back to his hands. just to bother you, he begins not drying them at all, putting them in their cabinets right away.

“oh, go fuck yourself.” you scoff, and he laughs, doing maybe a 2% better job at wiping them dry. “sorry, doll.” he chuckles under his breath, but he’s not sorry for getting you heated. he finds it adorable.

“when i die, i’m gonna haunt you forever.” you declare, playfully flicking water at him. you expect an asshole response from him. and in a way, you do. just not the kind you anticipated.

“you believe in that crap, doll? ghosts?” he says, a tone of finality in his voice.

“well… i think they could be real.” you say. “but i think theres more out there. heaven, reincarnation… the usual.” you hum.

the thought of there being more after death is comforting. in reincarnation, you could be a debutante in another life, one where you wouldn’t have to be scared to go outside. or maybe, theres heaven. that you’ll go to a place full of warmth and light, with a million suns to swallow you whole.

maybe, theres some place better than here.

but touya sighs dismissively, finding your naïveté cute. its always men that think they know everything, don’t they?

“i guess one of us has to have starry eyes.” touya says, extinguishing his cigarette on the ashtray. you can’t blame him for what he thinks, after all he’s been through.

you purse your lips curiously, challenging that notion. “so… what do you think happens after death mr. realist?”

he scoffs, a hint of a bitter smile blooming on his face, setting into his usual cynical expression.

“after death? nothing, doll,” he answers bluntly. “it’s just… lights out. game over. no cosmic beings, no rewards. just…”

“oblivion.” you propose. its the word that comes to mind based on his description.

“yeah. oblivion.” he confirms.

“so what?” you stand beside him, crickets of the night chirping just outside your window. “this is all there is, then?”

he nods, becoming more and more pessimistic as he goes on. “yeah, doll. thats it. oblivion. just nothingness.”

theres a silence that washes over you two as you continue your chores, moving through the house and eventually ending up on the couch, tired.

you want to believe that theres something more. and honestly, sometimes, so does he. its so easy to hate it here, to hate the world and those who inhabit it. so, you go to those secret, sacred gardens in your hearts and in your minds. the kind of place you need a key to get to, and the kind of key you swallow so no one can follow you.

no mid-sized city hopes or small-town fears. nostalgia is a minds trick- theres no point in reminiscing in what decade or moment in your past you would live in if you could. in the 1830s, you’d be freezing, married off to someone for the highest bid. any longer into the future, the world would be in fiery, climate induced ruins. maybe they’d find a better planet, where only the gentle can survive.

“well…” you start. his ears perk up, arms still around you.

“well what? don’t tell me you’re starting to believe me. your optimism was cute.” he chuckles.

“i’d rather have oblivion with you, than have everything alone.” you say.

just then, his smirk falters. he’s used to your stubborn optimism, and in a way, this is that. you’re finding the silver lining, even in cynical nihilism. and he can’t fathom just how you’re doing it.

“you’d… really?” he says, speechless, usual snide remarks replaced by something. wonder.

you nod, leaning your head on his shoulder. “its a pretty thought… heaven, reincarnation, something bigger than us.”

“it is.” he admits. he can’t deny that, even if he thinks that its bullshit. its a beautiful thought, for beautiful fools.

“but its also nice… thinking theres nothing. that one day, the world will collapse into oblivion. we’ll all go who knows where, and fade out from here. and thats a wrap. its the grand finale to it all.”

to your words, he stars up at the ceiling, as if picturing cosmos up before his eyes. he sees saturn’s rings and the moons craters up there. before, he thought that all of it, would turn to dest through the inevitability of death. that everyone would just have to be okay with being alone. but he isn’t alone anymore.

“you know, most assholes would find oblivion terrifying.” touya points out the obvious, chuckling. you nod.

“there is just something about it.” you say, eyes closing, resting. “that sooner or later, all that will be left is the darkness after the show, and the stars, and our dreams, stimulus, and love, everything and nothing, all in the void.”

he sees your sleepy state and takes that as an invitation to close his own eyes, your words not lost on him.

“you make nothing feel like everything.” he utters, lips pressing themselves to the top of your head.

“everything and nothing.” you repeat. “thats us.”

through your words, touya concludes. love can create meaning in a meaningless world. that maybe it isn’t about finding the answers to the universe, or finding out what happens after. maybe you two will go to heaven (though he definitely isn’t), or you’ll end up in the void, fading into nothingness.

there may be nothing in the world, but there’s everything in your love. perhaps the two- everything and nothing- are meant to coexist. love gives meaning to existence, even if it ends in… well, oblivion.

but as he draws your face near, kissing you, touya feels himself in the presence of everything. of a love that transcends even the inevitability of the universe itself.

✧.* ⋆.˚ ☾ .⭒˚ ✧.* ✧.* ⋆.˚ ☾ .⭒˚ ✧.* ✧.* ⋆.˚ ☾ .⭒˚ ✧.* ✧.* ⋆.˚

this is based off of a fictional short story i wrote for one of my classes, which i might post on my personal blog if people enjoy this. in the face of my depression, my struggles, and nothingness, the love i get here means everything. thank you for reading 🪐

[yandere----fandoms8790]

Hi! I saw you did a yan!withered bonnie x insomniac darling, but can you do the opposite, and instead, yan!withered bonnie and a hypersomniac darling? (Hypersomnia is basically borderline narcolepsy, with no matter how much you sleep, your still overly tired, and consistently sleeping way more than normal)

Sure, but I think I may have either lost or gained some knowledge about writing, ya'll decide for yourselves.

Yandere!Withered Bonnie x Hypersomniac!Reader/Darling

The very definition of a worried mother would be likely to describe this man, he would worry about you consistently, thinking you're an Insomniac instead of hypersomniac

Did I forget to mention the fact he's most likely going to try to steal some sleeping pills from the drug store? No? Okay, he would do such a thing, thinking you're an insomniac, but to his surprise, you're hypersomniac

Once he's figured out you're hypersomniac, he'll baby you to no end, and when I say 'baby' I literally mean BABY you, he'll wait on you hand and foot, he'll try to feed you and give you water, he'll try to get you to sleep more often, he might even try to burp you if he thinks about it(joke lol, I have terrible humor)

If he's feeling energetic then he'll most likely try to feed you something like sugar, if you've got ADHD or ADD or something of that nature, to hype you up, If that don't work, uh....Well, he gets kinda upset because he wants to play and you don't, so, therefore he'll bug you until you play with him

He's most likely one of the best options you have here if you're hypersomniac, he loves you, and if anyone messes with or bully's you...He'll beat the stew outta them

Small story for those of you looking for another story from me or just for Yandere!Withered Bonnie in general:

It was midnight, 12:00A.M., you were in the office and, as usual, you were tired as heck. Not because you didn't get sleep last night, because you did, you just have a slight problem, you're an Hypersomniac, so you you're still tired as heck.

It was time for your shift to begin, and as usual, you just sit there, checking the camera's, keeping a check on everything as well as the Animatronics. It was the third night, meaning most of the animatronics were active all except for the Withered animatronics, or so you thought.

As if on cue, the bell for your shift rand out, causing you to jolt awake and look around frantically, you would see no one, but that doesn't always mean something isn't there.

Going through your shift, fending of the animatronics and staying alive, it reached 3:00AM. Signaling more newcomers, albeit you don't know that.

You go to check the camera's, only to have them knocked out of your hand by something. You only have a matter of seconds until you get pinned down to the desk.

As you look up, you find yourself face-to-face with one of the Withered animatronics, Withered Bonnie, He was a blueish-purple, his glowing eyes red as human blood, wires sticking out of his suit from his endoskeleton, his right arm torn off with wires only remaining, his left hand with nothing but an endoskeleton hand, his lower half with rips and his feet nothing but endoskeleton.

He tried to say something to you, but his voice box was broken. The next thing you know you were being carried out of the office and over to a secluded room.

As you were being carried he started to rub your back, and you started to feel tired. 'Crap, wrong time to fall asleep, (Y/N)' you thought to yourself as he carried you away.

After getting into the secluded room he laid you down on the bed, as if knowing you were tired, and before you could protest, he shoved a pill down your throat, and you were forced to swallow it.

You began to feel tired, maybe it wasn't so bad after all, yeah?

The last thing you hear before falling asleep is Withered Bonnie managing to force out a few words: "Goodnight-night....(Y-(Y/N)..."

[fanfoolishness]

unsteady

Devon is there for Mark. Every Mark. No matter what. Spoilers for the ending of Severance 2x09, The After Hours. 1195 words.

-

“You ready to do this?” Devon asks. Her breath puffs out in a hazy cloud between them, a burst of white in the dark.

Mark stares back at her, haggard and drooping, eyes bloodshot to hell. He’s pale, somehow sweaty despite the chill. He looks like shit. 

She feels like shit. It’s been two long, awful days and everything, everything, hurts.

Gemma’s alive.

It still makes her head feel like it’s going to explode. She can’t think about it for more than a second at a time or she’ll lose it, like she’s staring at the sun. It’s too much. Too painful. Gemma’s dead and then she isn’t, and she’s not an amnesiac in some TV movie living a lovely ignorant life somewhere else, she’s trapped deep in the bowels of an evil corporate hellscape five miles from home. They cremated her. Had a funeral. Mark tried and failed to move on, and Gemma’s still a little black hole in Devon’s chest that won’t heal… except she’s alive.

Devon blinks back tears. This has to be something. It can’t be for nothing. She shivers in the cold. She wants nothing more than to step inside this warm, well-lit cabin instead of staying on the freezing porch with Mark, but she can’t leave him. Not until he’s ready to come with her.

She reaches out a hand to gently squeeze his arm. He leans into the touch, shaking his head as if coming back from somewhere far away. 

“You really think it’ll work?” he mutters, eyes darting everywhere except at her.

“I don’t know, man. I don’t know how any of this works.”

“This was your idea,” he says, with only half the venom she’d expected. His face twists, the bitter mask falling into something vulnerable and scared. “I have to try for her, don’t I?’

“You do. ‘Course you do,” Devon says.

Mark nods, plasters on a smile that comes out wrong. “Okay. Just… give me a minute.”

“Sure. I’ll be waiting, ‘k?”

He tilts his head to the side, and for a moment, he almost looks like the old Mark. Almost whole. “I know you will,” he says quietly. “Thanks.”

Crap. There’s those tears again. She nods, throat tight, unable to speak, and she steps through the door.

The airy warmth of the cabin envelops her. It’s a shock after the barely functional heat of Mrs. Selvig’s crappy truck and the day spent outside in the freaking woods. She lets out a long breath, willing the tears to knock it off, shivering in the sudden warmth.

But there’s so much. She rubs at her eyes irritably, tries to shove the feelings back down. She can deal with them later. When they get Gemma back. Right?

It’s just, there’s the whole Mark trying to die on her thing -- watching her only brother seize and choke on the floor and drift off in some kind of coma -- not knowing if he’ll live or die, afraid to call the hospital, afraid to not --

There’s her own shit, too. She misses Eleanor so goddamn much. Barely two days apart and Devon can hardly think straight, missing how Eleanor’s hair smells, the softness of her perfect little pudgy cheeks, her tiny hands with her somehow incredibly sharp fingernails curling around her finger. She wants to hold her daughter so badly, wants to get her as far away from Lumon and Kier as she can. 

She winces, her chest aching. She’ll have to hand express again soon. Two days of lost milk, two days away from her baby, two days of lying to Ricken about going on a spur of the moment “sibling retreat,” two days of Eleanor having to live off frozen milk or Lumon formula, and the guilt’s eating her alive.

But Gemma --

The door opens. She squares herself in front of it, holding her head high. Gotta be the first thing he sees. Something familiar. She said he’s gonna be freaked out.

Mark steps over the threshold. His face contorts, ripples, like something’s trying to fight its way out. Is it always like this?

He blinks, barely-constrained panic setting in. And it’s Mark’s innie looking back at her. She’s sure of it.

She smiles, a sudden wave of fond protectiveness coming over her. She’s going to keep him safe. “Hi, Mark!” she says brightly, her heart pounding. Stay calm. He’ll be disoriented.

He shivers, panting, trembling. He looks down at his clothes. Duh. He’ll expect a suit. He looks back up at her frantically. “Wait, what?”

Her heart goes out to him. Oh, buddy. I’m so sorry. “You’re okay. You’re fine!” She wants to hug him. Wants to tell him everything all at once, to let him know they’re trying to help, but she knows it’ll only freak him out more.

Instead he turns and grabs the door by the handle, and she leaps forward. “No no no no no. If you walk out that door, he’s just gonna come right back in again.”

Innie-Mark stops, slowly turns back to face her, that rabbity look still in his eyes. “What is this?” he asks, voice shaking.

“It’s gonna be okay.” And it really is going to be okay, she has to believe that, because if it isn’t, what will they do? Lumon might kill them all. Gemma might never escape. Mark’s brain might melt right out through his ears. But she’s not going to think about that. She’s got a job to do, and it’s to take care of Mark, every Mark, no matter what.

“Can I --” She keeps her bright smile on, because it keeps the tears from sliding in, and she closes the distance between them to reach out for his arm. “You wanna walk with me?” He flinches, and she drops her hand instantly. Okay, he’s not used to that. “Ooh -- sorry, just -- come with me?”

Devon steps forward, showing the way. Hesitantly he follows. He reminds her of something with these halting footsteps, the wary eyes. 

“You’re good. Yeah.”

She leads him up the stairs, following behind him in case he stumbles. He’s slow, clumsy, wobbly, still out of breath. Why is he out of breath? He acts like he’s never used stairs before. 

“Where --” He tries again, turning back to glance at her. “Are you my --”

She knows what he looks like now, and it hurts. A fawn, all gangling and new, no fucking idea how to navigate the world but he’s stuck here anyway. She swallows past the lump in her throat. 

The scraggly little locks of hair at the back of his neck curl like Eleanor’s.

There’s only a few more steps to go before they reach the top. Before innie-Mark sees the woman waiting for them. Before they try and tear Mark’s brain apart to put it back together, before they do whatever it takes to bring Gemma back.

Please keep him safe, she prays to no one in particular. He takes the last step, the gangling fawn. She stands beside him, a hand brushing against his arm to keep his balance. Got you, buddy. Even if you don’t know it.

She only hopes that it will be enough.

[moeitsu]

Hiiiii!

I love your fic with siren!Arthur. It’s easily become one of my favorites. I can’t wait for the next update :D

While we wait, I wanted to get your opinion on how Arthur would react if the reader bringing him one of those ‘Wish Pearl’ necklace kits you’d see online.

Would he think its silly because he’s seen real pearls or find it endearing?

Thank you!!!! Can’t wait for the update :D

Hiii!!💕

Thank you so much for reading!! I’m honored it’s become one of your favorites, it’s definitely got a very special place in my heart and I adore all the love it’s getting from you guys. It’s unreal ☺️

That’s such a sweet question omg. He would probably think it’s cute but he’d also be confused like “darlin’ you know I can get’chu a real pearl, just say the word. You deserve better than this phony crap” or something like that. He’d also probably think they’re too tiny, his mate deserves only the biggest and shiniest of pearls 😉

I never ended up writing this, but when I was working on that scene I was thinking about how Arthur probably opened half a dozen clams and tried to guess which ones produced the biggest pearls. Then when he chose one that was suitable he stored it away for the right moment and prayed she would like the gift inside. He was nervous as hell giving it to her though🥲

Also, I actually have two of these necklaces😅

I have the one in the picture as well as one shaped like a Bee. I was thinking of incorporating it somehow into the story because I want the reader to wear the pearl he gave her but idk how she would do that without putting it in some kind of locket.

Like this!

[deathmetalunicorn1]

Can you do one where Ror Family and their teen child having a game night. This game is about confessions and it's the readers turn. There confession is a double jeopardy one were they have to confess something that maybe debatebly worse than what they were originally going confess. So the reader shuffles into the make shift confession booth muttering about possibly losing some privileges over what they were about to say, while their friend jokes about the booth being familiar. There confession was about them sneaking around with someone and possibly making out in a confession booth. Now this story may seem familiar to someone, because it is since it happened in Hell while Beelzubub was tasked with watching her over the summer trip they'll have there. He also almost caught them. So that's that's, the reader admitting they had a summer fling.

-You were initially worried about this game, Confession Time, when your family brought it up as a way to have fun while also exposing some juicy secrets.

-Each person would draw a card, and it would say what kind of secret they had to confess in the confession booth, a large Amazon box with a hole cut into it.

-However, a half an hour in, you were clutching at your ribs, unable to handle the pain as you had been dying of laughter as some of the secrets that came out were hysterical- mainly because it caused several fights and lots of yelling.

-It was your turn, and you swallowed, feeling a bit nervous as you drew your card and you immediately slapped your hand over your eyes, “Can I say a swear word?!” laughter filled the room as Loki leaned over, “Y/N pulled the Double Trouble!”

-The Double Trouble card was the worst card to pull, as you had to tell the biggest secret you had, or risk getting a punishment- you had seen several of those already, and you didn’t want anything to do with those!

-Loki cackled loudly, throwing an arm around your shoulders, “Of course you can- no penalty!” Brunnhilde went to scold Loki, but you were quicker as you whined out, “Fuck~~~~~” more laughter filled the room as Adam tried to give you a stern look but was badly hiding his smile.

-You crawled into the confession booth, your arms crossing as you pouted lightly as Apollo grinned, “Okay Y/N- since you pulled the Double Trouble- you have to tell us the worst secret you have.”

-You remained silent for a moment before you asked a question, “Will I get into trouble for this?” a few glances were passed around as Loki grinned, “Nope- that’s the magic of Double Trouble- you have to tell us the secret, but you won’t get into trouble.”

-You hesitated only for a moment longer before you sighed, your eyes closing, “Okay- you guys remember the summer camp from last year- where I was a counselor.”

-Beelzebub’s eyes went wide, as he knew this secret, as he had been watching over you at camp, since it was co-ed, just to be on the safe side, but he trusted you and your decisions.

-You bit your bottom lip as you bounced your leg lightly before you inhaled, taking the plunge, “So you remember when the kids had to go home a day early and the counselors stayed- well we had a party to celebrate the end of the season. My friend, B/N was there too, and things got a little too wild and we… well I… it was… B/N and I had some extra fun that night in the lifeguard house.”

-Jaws were on the floor and eyes were wide, hearing how you had a summer fling last year and kept it from them, well- at least most of them as Beelzebub kept his mouth shut- because while you weren’t getting into trouble- if he said something he would be for not saying anything sooner.

-Everyone gave you crap for several days for doing the dirty last year, teasing you, and while Adam wasn’t overly pleased- he trusted you, as nothing happened so he let it be.

-B/N on the other hand, was glared at by several of your family members for several days when he came to visit, and he had to keep his head low after you told him that you told your family about your fling last year.

-However, neither you nor B/N regretted it.

[yisony07]

Study Techniques

Thanks to @bigheadtf for the masked pic.

It was amazing how fast Harry was able to type. In fact, he wasn't even aware of it. He was too focused on finishing his report to notice such minor details as his writing speed, the half-empty cup of coffee next to him that had a fly in it, or the stack of books that threatened to fall off his desk.

The only thing on his mind was finishing that project. Sure, the assignment was due in a week, but Harry was the kind of student, a rare one for sure, who got his assignments done as quickly as possible. Once he finished that assignment, he wouldn't have anything else to worry about…

“Come on, you son of a bitch! It's not that hard!” a voice shouted.

Except, perhaps, for his husband, Kevin.

Harry ignored him and continued writing his report. It was an assignment on Maxwell's equations, which combined electricity with magnetism. As a Physics student, Harry wanted to learn as much as he could about the course, and with it being such an interesting subject, he didn't waste the opportunity to read and write down everything he could that he considered relevant.

“Not like that, you idiot…! Gosh…” Kevin shouted.

Harry let out a groan, but he didn't get distracted. He was almost done. He just had to write down a few theoretical considerations regarding the last review question. After a few seconds, he typed the last words of his report.

“This is how it’s done, you moron!” Kevin shouted.

Fed up, Harry pressed Enter to submit the paper. He got up from his chair and walked into the living room, where his partner Kevin was playing video games.

“That’s it… Come on… Holy crap! Take that, you bastards!”

“Don’t you have to study for your test tomorrow?” Harry asked from the doorway but immediately realized that Kevin wasn’t listening, so he walked over to the television, blocking the redhead’s gaze.

“Babe! Please!! I was on a winning streak!” Kevin said, pausing the video game and looking at his partner with some but slight annoyance.

“You, young man, have an exam tomorrow and you must study… don’t you?” Kevin asked, crossing his arms, without moving away from the television.

“I can study later…”

“You’ve been saying that for three days now, and I don’t want you to do badly later and complain that you didn’t have time when clearly you’re not making the most of the time you have…”

“It’s just that it’s a Physics exam, and I’m not exactly good at it…”

“Although you have a husband who has some knowledge in those subjects and would be happy to help you…” Harry replied, arching an eyebrow. “Come on, it’s only eight in the morning, we have all day to get you ready.”

Kevin looked at his husband for a moment.

“Okay, let me finish this level, okay?” he asked, resigned. “But tomorrow after the exam we’re going to play all night…”

“Okay,” Harry replied, rolling his eyes, but with a small smile. He moved away from the television, sat next to Kevin, and kissed his cheek.

Later, the couple was sitting at the desk. Harry was sitting slightly in Kevin's direction, while Kevin was doing an exercise his husband had suggested.

“Done… Check if it's okay,” Kevin said as he handed the notebook over to him.

Harry glanced at it and shook his head.

“You're getting better, but it still came out wrong… the analysis of the forces is a bit wrong, because in this case there is no friction force to counteract the electromagnetic interaction, and in the calculations, you put the signs wrong, so the result is incorrect,” he explained slowly, as if that lessened the effect of his words while pointing out the errors with a pencil.

Kevin let out a heavy sigh and stood up frustrated.

“This is the umpteenth time and I still can't do it!” Kevin said and pushed away from the table, turning his back to Harry. “What's the point of continuing? “I’m not going to make it…”

“Don’t give up so easily,” Harry said sweetly as he stood up, hugged Kevin from behind, and planted a kiss on his neck. “How about we take a break first? We can eat instead.”

“It won’t do any good,” Kevin replied, though he let himself be carried away by his husband’s pampering. “I’m not as good at Physics as you… I guess I’ll have to repeat the subject.”

“We can try one more time…”

“No, Harry…” Kevin said and pulled away from Harry. “I’m not going to make it… You know what? I’m going to lie down for a while…”

“Aren’t you going to cook?”

“I’m not in the mood for it… order something, maybe some pizzas, it might cheer me up a bit,” he said and walked away.

Harry stared at him for a while before sighing, defeated, and called for food. He then went into the bedroom, where he found Kevin lying down checking his phone. Harry laid down next to him and tried to pet him.

“Regardless of how you do on the test, I’ll be here for you, you know that, right?”

“Yeah… thanks,” Kevin told him, and at that moment he turned around to kiss Harry on the mouth.

At that moment, they both heard the doorbell.

“Wow! That was quick…” Harry said. Kevin was about to get up but Harry stopped him. “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of it.” He kissed him on the cheek and stood up to the door.

When he opened it, he found it strange that there was no one there. Looking down, Harry saw two boxes, one larger than the other. The small box was wrapped in a bag, and on top of it were some soda cans. Harry thought it was a somewhat irresponsible way to make a delivery, but ignored it. Then, he noticed the other box, from an unknown sender but addressed to them, so he picked them both up, closing the door as soon as he entered.

Harry left the pizza on the table and carried the other box to the bedroom, where he saw Kevin sleeping peacefully. Harry couldn't help but be touched.

“Even sleeping, he looks so sexy…” Harry thought, leaving the box on the floor, and went to Kevin to kiss him. “Kevin… wake up, the pizza has arrived.”

Kevin woke up, but instead of getting up, he grabbed Harry and threw him down on the bed, on top of him, and kissed him back. The couple found themselves engaged in kisses on the bed.

“Looks like sleep has cheered you up a bit,” Harry said, pulling away a little.

“I’ve accepted my fate now, so it doesn’t worry me anymore…” Kevin replied, still holding him close. “But I’m hungry for something else if you know what I mean…”

Harry blushed a little and smiled, but even though he wanted to, he didn’t succumb to the temptation, instead shaking himself free from his husband’s embrace and getting out of bed.

“That’ll be for later, Kev… you know I don’t like cold pizza,” Harry said, gesturing for him to get up.

“But tonight it’s your turn to finally destroy my ass,” Kevin said with a smile as he got up, and the couple left the room to enjoy their pizza.

Neither of them noticed a faint green glow coming out of the box…

After eating and clearing everything away, the couple deemed it appropriate to bathe. They would take turns. It wasn't until they entered their room that Kevin noticed the box.

“What's that?” Kevin asked as he pulled off his shirt.

“Oh, didn't I tell you? It came with the pizza,” Harry said, unbuckling his belt. “It didn't say who sent it, but it was addressed to us… I haven't even checked its content yet.”

“Well, let's see!” Kevin said.

Harry placed the box on the bed, opened it, and out came a mask that they hadn't seen before.

Kevin gave him a disdainful look, unlike Harry, who looked at him with interest.

“Whoever gave it to us, thanks,” Harry whispered. “Let me shower first, so I can examine it without interruptions, okay?”

“Go ahead, babe…” Kevin said.

Harry entered the bathroom, and perhaps it was because of the interest that the mask generated, but he finished his shower quickly. With the presence of certain drops around his neck, hair, and legs, as well as the scent of clean skin, Kevin confirmed that Harry had indeed showered.

Kevin was about to comment, but he just shook his head and entered the bathroom. Harry, for his part, put on his pajamas and threw himself onto the bed, taking the mask in his hands.

“An object that seems to be taken from archaeological discoveries… I wonder what meaning it must have had for the culture it came from…” Harry whispered, staring at the mask while fiddling with it with his fingers.

But then, he thought again about Kevin and his exam, almost like an intrusive thought. No matter how much support he gave him, Harry did want his husband to understand the subject and do well on the test. How to make that happen without seeming annoyingly insistent?

Without realizing it, Harry was bringing the mask closer to his face, and he didn't come back to reality when the mask touched his skin.

*Smack*

It was so sudden that Harry did nothing but suddenly pull the mask away.

“What the f…?” He whispered in surprise. The mask seemed to come to life and tried to suck his face for a few seconds. It was like an electric shock. His hair stood on end. He was breathing a little agitated and his mouth was slightly open in a grimace that still expressed the pain of his skin.

He looked back at the mask and immediately noticed a shine running through its surface.

Suddenly, Harry remembered what had happened. However, the experience he had just lived was different: he did not scream, but moaned; instead of an electric shock, it had been like an excitement; the rhythm of his breathing reflected his desire for more, and his mouth showed how much he had enjoyed it. Seeing that glow had calmed his fears, his sorrows, his reasoning…

He just wanted more of it…

Without thinking twice, he returned the mask to his face.

“Aarrgh!!!” Harry screamed, and for a brief moment regret came, leading him to bring his hands towards the mask to pull it off; however, it did not give way, instead using its thick, sticky tendrils to cling to the man's head in any way.

Harry's screams and moans were not long in coming. In a matter of seconds, the mask covered his entire head and took over it. Under its influence, Harry shook his body, jumping non-stop on the bed, so that the squeal of the mattress springs resonated throughout the room, only surpassed by the moans of the black-haired man. Then, the sheet rose over the bed and completely covered Harry's body. A green glow emerged from within the sheet, and slowly Harry's moan became deeper and softer until the room fell silent.

“Harry, babe! Are you okay?!” Kevin shouted, opening the bathroom door. His wet hair was falling over his shoulders, with a towel wrapped around his waist, shamelessly showing off his torso.

“Of course I do, Kev!” replied ‘Harry’ still covered by the sheet. “You could say I feel better than ever!” He added and uncovered himself.

Kevin was left speechless when he saw what Harry had transformed into, especially with his face, so much so that he dropped the towel.

Green-headed Harry's lips curved into a satisfied smile, and his eyes sparkled even more as soon as he noticed the redhead's shaft.

"Are you in the mood to play yet?" Harry asked with a smile that he intended to charm Kevin with, which he succeeded in doing. "Well, I have a game for you that you can't refuse, and it will help you with your exam."

Kevin came back to reality after the last words, shaking his head.

"Why did you have to mention that now?" Kevin protested embarrassed, looking away.

Green-faced Harry couldn't help but look at him with a mixture of tenderness and pity. He got up without leaving the bed, got on all fours, and with a click, Kevin found himself at the edge of the bed, so that Harry's lips were dangerously close to Kevin's wood.

"Because I won't let my husband fail a subject that I'm very good at!" he answered with conviction. “So… First question: How is the force vector that a charge experiences to the velocity vector of said charge and the magnetic field surrounding it?”

“What?” Kevin asked, and Harry held Kevin’s cock with some force.

“Answer the question…” Harry ordered, looking at him with his red eyes.

Kevin swallowed hard.

“Uh…” he thought for a few seconds. “Perpendicular,” he replied.

“Right!” Harry said, and then he sucked Kevin’s cock for a few long seconds. Kevin moaned and let himself be overcome by the momentary pleasure, but when he was about to bring his hands to Harry’s head to direct his movements, Harry stopped. “Next question… If the direction of the magnetic force points to a positive axis, but you know that the velocity has a negative value, what should the charge be like: positive or negative?”

“Uh… Positive?” Kevin said.

“Wrong!” Harry shouted, pulled out a small stick from nowhere, and hit Kevin's ass with it.

“Positive! Positive!” the redhead corrected after a groan of pain.

Harry winked at him.

“I see you're learning…” he said before going back to sucking his cock for a few seconds. “Now next question: How are the Earth's geographic poles respect to the magnetic ones?”

“Uh… Opposites…” Kevin answered in a small voice, which was followed by a moan thanks to the skills that the masked Harry demonstrated with his cock.

In this way, green-headed Harry helped his red-headed husband study entertainingly, kissing him from time to time when he asked him a particularly difficult question or explained it to him. Kevin enjoyed it a lot, and his cock even more.

Moments later, Kevin was taken by surprise when Harry extended his arms as if they were made of rubber surrounded him, and then put him on the bed. Harry exposed his hard cock and teased Kevin's ass with it.

“That's the end of the theoretical section, now we have to see how good you are with the practical exercises, shall we?” teased Masked Harry making an obvious superhuman effort not to thrust his pulsating cock into his husband's hole. “Given a proton with a speed of 33 m/s in a perpendicular magnetic field of 0.7 T, what is the magnitude of the force experienced by the particle?” He asked, gently and repeatedly hitting Kevin's hole with his glans.

“Fuck… Do you think this is the time to ask these questions?” Kevin complained, as he was eager for the green-head to stick it in already. “Just stick it in, babe!”

“Nah-ah-ah…” Harry hummed, still pounding Kevin’s hole, rubbing the area with his hardened middle leg. “Rules are rules, and you haven’t earned your prize…”

“Well…” Kevin said, defeated. “At least give me one…” Out of nowhere, an arm similar to Harry’s appeared at his side and handed him a calculator, “calculator… thanks.” Then, he began to press the keys of the device, but it was difficult for him to concentrate with his husband’s constant teasing, his mesmerizing aroma, his captivating face, his attractive body, and his seductive lips… all in all, in seconds, he came up with a result. “Uh… 3.74E-18 N, I think…”

“More than adequate…” said Harry, and Kevin finally felt Harry’s cock inside him. It was an uncomfortable sensation at first, until, when Harry inserted his entire member, Kevin let out a moan of pleasure.

This moan drove Harry crazy.

“You know what? The hell with the study!” exclaimed the green-headed man and began to thrust rapidly, and the moans and grunts of both sounded and echoed throughout the room.

Kevin saw how his husband’s head altered in ways straight out of a cartoon: sometimes his eyes popped out of their sockets in excitement and sometimes he took the shape of a wolf; oddly enough, something about that combination of a crazy wolf head and an enviable human body was extremely erotic for the redhead, so he gladly returned the kiss that he gave him. Harry was like a beast fucking the redhead, and both of them immersed themselves in carnal pleasure…

“I cannot believe I did all that!” Normal Harry exclaimed, extremely embarrassed as he hid his face in his hands.

“Are you crazy?! Can’t you see that it worked?! I passed, babe!” Kevin told him as he sat down next to him. “Your out-of-the-box method helped me a lot… thanks a lot, Harry.” Kevin pulled one of Harry’s hands away and kissed his cheek.

“But still…” Harry said and moved the mask to his lap, turning it over.

“Come on,” Kevin said and took it. “You didn’t like it? Because I really loved it…”

“Don’t we have a video game marathon to play?” Harry asked, blushing, in order to change the subject.

Kevin took the hint, so he clicked his tongue and passed a controller to Harry before taking another one.

“Come on then…” Kevin turned on the console, but then he felt a vibration from his lap. “What…?”

“What’s wrong, Kev?” Harry asked, looking at him.

But before Kevin could answer, the mask jumped onto Kevin's face. The mask quickly spread its rubbery, crunchy tendrils around the redhead's head, covering it in a matter of seconds. Both Kevin and Harry tried in vain to peel the mask off Kevin's skin, but in a jerk, Harry was pulled away from his husband and he began to spin in a tornado that stopped in seconds.

Where there had been a somewhat strong man, there was a muscular man whose red hair shone and made him look like a fierce lion. His lust-filled gaze shone just like his hair, only contrasted by his white smile.

“Holy shit, babe!!” said Masked Kevin, flexing his muscles. “I think we'll play a different kind of game.”