#but right now all I want to do is sit in a lab and read and teach and hey would love some field work once a year for two weeks yknow?

[heazueken]

Letting Go

*ೃ༄ summary: Jayce and Viktor have their part 2

warning(s): MDNI, explicit sexual content, oral sex, vaginal sex, ftm!viktor, knotting

pairing(s): Viktor/Jayce

w/c; 12.2k

a/n: i went a littleee overboard with this part 2 request of cured... did not mean to make it this long but! here we are! enjoy anon and everyone else! part 1 for those who didnt read :3

Translation list for Viktor:

Přesně tam - right there

Kurva - fuck

“Jayce, would you mind joining me later tonight in my chambers for uh…part two, if you will?”

The sentence played over and over in Jayce’s head like a broken record and he’s coming up on hour six of his work day. Viktor is still next to him, goggles on, focused and taking every few seconds to scribble down some runes and speak to himself quietly. He’s engrossed in his work and hasn’t spoken a single word to his vastayan partner in Gods know how long. Jayce is storming with more thoughts of nefarious things he could do to him, meanwhile Viktor sits there, earnestly working without so much as a glance towards the man next to him. Clearly he hadn’t been as affected by the events that transpired that morning.

Jayce had him on this very table just hours ago, fucking into him deeply, falling into the temptation of having Viktor all to himself and claiming him. When he glances over to Viktor he can’t help but be aware of the knowledge that under the clothing, there’s marks he left on his partner. It sends a shiver down his spine and he has to pull on the collar of his dress shirt to relieve the tightness of his tie around his neck. They’d been silent for so long that Jayce was too afraid to break it.

“Right, so, Viktor? When you said go to your place for part two did you really mean that? We have three more hours left and I just thought maybe we should go relieve some stress…” 

Well, that would just sound stupid and needy if he said that out loud. Plus, Viktor was never the type to leave his work ever. It’s Jayce who literally had to force him sometimes to go back to his apartment because he was not going to walk back into their lab to see the man slumped over a table and drooling on their research papers again (yes, Viktor has done that so many times now it was starting to be a daily thing). Jayce was hoping for once he could convince Viktor to sleep in his own bed tonight, he was only worried about his well-being after all.

Who is he kidding?

He wants Viktor on his back, wants to see him spread his legs and expose himself for Jayce. He wants to hold him down and fuck him like he’s never been before and hear his name fall from his partners voice in that soft, melodic tone. He wants to make him his, bite him and leave a scar that tells people he’s the property of Jayce Talis. He needs Viktor to know just how badly he wants him, his body calls to him like a moth to a flame and he doesn’t give a damn for getting burned because for Viktor it was worth it. Anything was worth fighting for when it came to his lab partner.

Jayce’s ears perk when he hears the grating sound of Viktor’s chair pushing away from the desk. He glances over to sneak a peek at him. He’s taken off his goggles, his jaw opening to release a yawn as he raises his arms above his head to stretch. Jayce can see just the edge of a hickey he left earlier on Viktor’s neck and it’s like something within him crawls its way forehead to the forefront of his mind.

Mine. All mine. 

Jayce has always been good at holding back the more undomesticated part of himself. It helped that there weren't many other vastayans in Piltover, or the fact that he didn’t really take any notice to anyone romantically. There was Mel Medarda, but that had faded so quickly he could barely remember the scent of her or why he had been so infatuated in the first place.

But Viktor…there was something about Viktor that made it so fucking difficult for Jayce to hold back. He’s almost scared of himself when he thinks back to that morning and the things he did to him. It wasn’t good for him to let himself be the beast that stirred inside him— that’s what he’s always thought. He had never truly let himself freely explore the animal side to him before, and Viktor had the makings to completely rewire his brain and bring forth the very monster he’d thought he conquered.

“You’re stiff as a board, Jayce. What’s with you?” Viktor’s creaky voice breaks his train of thought, and he looks to his partner who’s looking up at him with slight concern. Had he been standing here behind Viktor for that long for it to be weird? Oh, yes he had. He takes a step back and laughs awkwardly, his tail tucking between his legs slightly, the other taking notice with a glance downward before flickering back up to his face.

“Sorry, I— uh— lost in thought, I think.” 

He’d gotten a taste— no, not a taste— a mouthful of Viktor and he’s just supposed to act like that wasn’t a life altering experience? How could he go about the rest of his day normally when the man he had buried himself inside of sits in front of him like that didn’t happen and be completely normal about it?! Maybe Viktor just had more experience, maybe he just didn’t reciprocate the same intensity of feelings as Jayce did.

“You think…” Viktor trails, still looking at him like he’s hiding something from the older one. He points his chin in his direction. “What are you doing just lurking behind me?” 

“Nothing! Really! I was just…thinking…” He can’t stop himself from glancing back over to the table again and seeing Viktor’s naked figure laying there like he had been. Basking in the sunlight that drew its way into the room and highlighting the wonderful curves and moles riddled across his skin. Jayce practically begins to drool at the thought of it again. He doesn’t notice Viktor setting his goggles down and scooting out of his chair to get up. 

“I’m tired,” He announces, Jayce once again broken out of his trance just in time to see Viktor brush past him. He rubs a hand on the back of his neck and limps towards his cane. “Perhaps we should call it a day, hm?”

Jayce stares at the back of Viktor’s hunched over figure as he begins organizing a few stacks of paper and scraps of metal and gears that have yet to be sorted by size and usage. Something kicks within his brain, seeing him tired, drained, and messy with his wavy hair poking this way and that after hours of his delicate fingers running through it, setting Jayce in that classic “helper” mode no one ever needed from him.

“Viktor,” he gently says, and it sounds like warm honey on the other's ears, Viktor immediately turning to look at him. There’s a sparkle in his eyes like finally, finally Jayce is noticing him. 

“Uh,” Jayce falters, stopping himself from taking a further step towards his partner, but holding his hand out like he’s reaching for him. “I just—I wanted to—“ How is he supposed to even begin what he’s been ruminating all day? Walking Viktor back home, inviting himself into his apartment, helping him get undressed, bathing him, feeding him, laying with him, kissing him, feeling him up and spreading his legs and burying his—

“Sorry. Forget it.” He lowers his arm and his ears lay back into his hair completely hiding them from view. He ducks his chin into his chest and screws his eyes shut.

He doesn’t want to assume anything, doesn’t want to pressure or push too much. He knows they had just been close in the most intimate way possible and yet he couldn’t get himself to ask Viktor if he truly meant what he had said; “Jayce, would you mind joining me later tonight in my chambers for uh…part two, if you will?”

That had to be a joke, right?

Viktor’s jaw clenches and Jayce can feel the tension rise in the room. He can barely meet the older one’s stare but catches a glimpse of the harsh pain and disappointment that flashes across his eyes before he parts his lips to say something.

“Okay, well, I’ll be seeing you…whenever, I suppose.” He grabs his coat and only the sound of his shoes and cane clicking on the floor can be heard. Jayce waits until the sound finally fades to release his breath and let his tense shoulders fall.

He looks over to the clock and sees they still had half an hour before they were going to close up shop and head out for the night. He hangs his head in shame feeling like he’d done everything wrong, slumping into the chair Viktor had just been in. It’s still warm from his body heat and he can still smell his sweet scent. Jayce stuffs his face into his hands and mourns what could have been a good night. 

Later that week Viktor completely disappeared. On the first day Jayce wasn’t too worried, he was used to this sort of thing and Viktor never stayed away long enough for him to really grow concerned. But when he spoke to Sky on the sixth day his mild anxiety turned into full blown panic. 

“Hey, uh, Sky?” He starts as he hunches over some of Viktor's lab journals and deciphers the runes. Sky turns to him with files in her arms.

“Y-yes?” He rarely ever speaks to her, especially lately and since— well…what had now happened a week ago. 

His ear twitches as he forms his questions. “You…hang out with Viktor outside the lab, right?”

He doesn’t see it but Sky is perplexed by the question, her brows furrowing as she places her thumb and forefinger on her chin. 

“I mean,” she laughs awkwardly in a way where Jayce can practically see the blush on her face without even turning towards her. “Sometimes? He’s only asked me for some drinks like twice and every time he goes way too overboard and I have to take him back home.” Her words slow as she speaks, like shame creeping up on her. They’re both quiet for a little.

“He talks about you when he’s drunk…” She admits like she hadn’t wanted to say it and he knows why. It was clear to her that Viktor had no interest in her and he was probably just asking her to come along because who else would? 

Jayce’s ears perk and that’s when he finally tears himself from decoding to look over his shoulder at her. 

“What?”

Sky stands there and hunches her shoulders inward, her feet drawing close together and ducking her head just slightly to make herself look smaller. Like if she could, she would disappear right now instead of having to admit that the man she loved did not love her back.

“He only ever talks about you when he gets really drunk. Like—like last time, he went on and on about you and how…how much he likes you.”

A beat. Jayce has to take in the information and his tail swats to the right a few times, the gears in his mind beginning to turn and creak.

“That can’t be.” 

“Well, you asked.” Sky replies with a short tone, pushing her glasses over the bridge of her nose and making her way to the door. “I better go now. I’ll leave you alone.”

“Wait—“ Jayce has more questions and reaches out to stop her, but Sky is already slamming the door shut, her footsteps fading down the hall in quick succession. He lets out a loud sigh and slams Viktor’s journal shut. He runs his claws through his hair, vigorously messing up its clean cut look and ruffling it in frustration. What the hell was happening?

It’s the next day when Viktor once again doesn't show up that he finally decides to take action. Jayce had been all alone for a full week now, barely making any progress with their new project they’ve been tweaking for the upcoming Progress Day. The biggest day of their career and Viktor has still been abandoning his duties as Jayce’s partner!

He should be furious, he should be marching to his apartment and demanding an explanation— and if he’s not home, then he would have to storm around Piltover in hopes of finding him. Turn every stone in the Undercity to find his partner. He should grab him by the collar of his shirt and force him back to the lab. But Jayce isn’t capable of that. He’s not mad at Viktor in the slightest, he blames himself for it all. He gave in and put his friend in a predicament— it’s his fault something came between the two of them. He never meant for that to happen.

He needs to see Viktor.

It’s 7:30PM and Jayce is at Viktor’s apartment door. 

The welcome sign he had made for him still hangs outside and he smiles at it warmly. Viktor had mentioned once that he never had much of anything that gave his home a comforting feeling (perhaps that’s why he rarely ever went home after work and spent his endless nights in the lab). Jayce had listened intently and began his metalworking. He spent hours on many things; first— the welcome sign and he made a butterfly out of different colored metals that sits reverently on the ‘W’ of Welcome. Second— a pair of bookends. Viktor had mentioned his endless piles of books, journals and memoirs. Jayce thought it would be a good idea to make a few pairs of book ends in order to keep his books safe and secure. Viktor had mentioned his favorite bird to be a mourning dove and Jayce took that as inspiration for his hand crafted gift. Two mourning doves now frame and protect his precious readings. And finally the third— Jayce had meltworked a figure of one of Viktor’s childhood friends that he found in the Undercity one day; An abandoned, worn down golem that he had called Blitzcrank. He went off on a whole tangent once about the way he found it as a child, how he often dreamed of piecing it back together, making it new and finding some utilization for it to help the people of the Undercity. Jayce discovered a newfound admiration for Viktor that day and he spent two whole days perfecting a mini figure of the golem and gave it to his friend on his birthday.

He knocks a couple times and no answer. He waits the appropriate amount of time that he assumes it would take for Viktor to get to the door before he knocks again. Still no answer.

Jayce isn’t the type to give up that easily but if Viktor wasn’t answering him, well, he’d just have to pack it up and try again tomorrow. Worry nags at the back of his mind and he tries not to think of all the terrible things that could have happened to his friend during their— are they fighting? Quarrel isn’t the right word…perhaps avoidantness? Whatever this thing was. He tries to reassure himself that Viktor is more than capable by himself and Jayce just needs to back off and give him room to breathe for a moment. He’ll come back when he’s ready.

He heads back to his own apartment. Now at 8:13PM he gets his keys out in anticipation to get into his home when he sees a familiar figure standing at his door.

Viktor stands there, slumped with his forehead on the door. His mouth is moving and mumbling something while he tries to jam his key into Jayce’s lock. What is he doing? Jayce begins to make his way to him quickly. His tail begins swaying back and forth with hope. 

“Viktor!” He exclaims and his friend slowly turns to look at him. He looks…Jayce doesn’t want to say terrible but he’s never seen him so disheveled in such a way where he almost didn’t even recognize the man he spends most of his waking hours with. 

“Are you okay? What are you doing here?” His hand reaches out as a slew of questions pour out of him.

His hair is the messiest he’s seen it, chunks cling together in a greasy mess like he hasn’t washed his hair in days, his eyes are barely open and they’re bloodshot, purple smears across his lower eyelids in proof of his sleepless nights. His cheeks are sunken in, he looks ghostly pale and barely even registers Jayce and has to lean in close to get a good look at who’s speaking to him before he can reply. Jayce smells it then— the alcohol imbuing his nostrils, soaking into the roof of his mouth and down his throat. He can’t stop the scrunch of his face at the smell. He’s drunker than ever before.

“Jayce? What are you doing at my apartment?” His accent gets thicker the more he’s drunk— Jayce notices but can’t dwell on it for too long because what?

“Your apartment? Vik, this is my apartment. You’re sticking your key into a lock that doesn’t even fit.” He gestures to the uncoordinated way Viktor is lazily jamming his key over and over into Jayce’s doorknob. He looks down at what he’s doing and slowly pulls his hand away. 

“I…I hadn’t realized I walked all the way over here…I’ll…I…” He stuffs his key into his pocket and stumbles backward from the door to give himself enough room to turn towards Jayce. He trips on his own cane in the process, his right foot bumping into it and he releases a small yelp as he loses his footing.

Before he can succumb to the hard pavement below, Jayce’s quick reflexes catch him just in time. The cane falls with a metallic clang and it echoes through the corridors of doors. Jayce’s strong arm hooks under Viktor’s shoulders, the other wraps around the front of his torso and his large hand wraps around the entirety of his bicep. The adrenaline coursing through him isn’t enough to sober him up but his eyes widen as he locks eyes with his Vastaya partner.

“Careful!” Jayce exclaims. “My Gods, you scared me half to death.” He wants to ask him why he’s standing at his doorstep, why he’s drunk and alone, why his clothes look like he’s been wearing them for at least three days and why he looks so sad.

“C’mon,” He helps him back to his feet and pats his back gently. “Just come inside, let me help you.”

He lets Viktor step out of the safety of his arm and he shakes his head. “No, I…I shouldn’t. I don’t need you babying me like—“

“Viktor, you almost just bashed your head in outside of my place. I’m not letting you leave without at least sobering up a little.” He reaches back out and grabs his shoulder this time and pulls him to his side. He unlocks his door and pushes it open, letting Viktor go in first.

He’s slow to enter his apartment. They didn’t frequent each other's places often, he could count on one hand how many times he’s stepped inside Jayce’s home— being drunk, though, was a first. 

Jayce’s home is warm. Incredibly warm and he wonders how he could keep his place so fucking hot. He has carpets on wooden floor boards and Jayce insists he take his shoes off before he steps over the threshold of the step that leads into his living room. His socked feet pat over soft carpet and Jayce leads him to the brown cotton couch where he sits him down. Viktor knows Jayce always has a pot of tea ready to be boiled every time he comes home. He’s expecting to be handed a cup of warm tea but when his vastaya friend comes back with two cups he’s wondering what the contents are.

“Ice water,” It’s like he’s read his mind. He lifts his left hand holding the water and he hears the clink of the ice hitting the walls of ceramic. He sets it down at the coffee table in front of Viktor and then sets the other one down. “Coffee, with extra sugar and cream.” He turns the handle towards him.

Jayce is really good at remembering what people like and him remembering something as simple as Viktor liking his coffee extra sweet tugs at his heart strings and he feels sick. His heart rises to his throat and becomes frozen solid.

“Thanks,” he chokes and gently reaches for the cup of coffee first. It’s perfect and the warmth of the drink soothes the frozen heart in his throat, it begins to thaw almost immediately and he breathes once more. His mind is still muddled and his vision isn’t all there but he feels the dip in weight on the couch beside him. He turns to see Jayce sitting next to him.

“Make sure you drink the water, too.” His voice feels millions of miles away in Viktor’s ears but he knows he’s only a foot away from him. His vision blurs and he sees three pairs of Jayce’s ears, they turn towards him, erect and alert to any sound or word that comes from him. His tail is fluffy and makes a makeshift wall between their thighs, stopping them from touching. In his inebriated state, Viktor lays his hand over it and gently pets it.

Jayce, unsure of what to do, lets him continue his petting. It feels good, if he’s being honest and he’s embarrassed with himself over it. 

“Soft,” Viktor mumbles. It feels like the softest material known to man, he could sit here and pet it for hours. The other smiles gently and places his large fingers around his wrist, he lifts his arm to stop him.

“Drink, Viktor. You need to shower.”

Reluctantly, he takes large gulps of water and takes a few more shy sips of his caramel colored coffee.

Jayce is too timorous to begin asking why Viktor had been so avoidant for the past week and he decides to kick it into helper mode because taking care of his friend is more important than figuring out the reason for some quarrel of theirs. It’s easy for him to set aside any ill feelings and focus on the wellbeing of his drunk lab partner. He reaches over to pat Viktor’s leg.

“You well enough to shower by yourself?”

It finally registers in Viktor’s brain.

“Shower? Where? Here?” He points downwards, eyebrows hitched up on his forehead and eyes wide. Jayce gives him a firm nod and places a firm grip on his shoulder.

“You’re going to shower, drink more water and stay here for the night.” His cheeks immediately blush and Viktor’s shoulders shrug his hand off and he shakes his head. He begins to get up.

“Jayce, no, no, I’m not. I-I can’t do that— you…I know you’re just— oh, nevermind.” 

“Viktor,” He grips Viktor’s shoulder again and uses his animalistic strength to keep his ass snug on the couch. He feels bad using it but this is for his own good. “You’re drunk. You can’t go home like this and you clearly haven’t been caring for yourself this week!”

Viktor smacks his hand away instead and his brows furrow, his face contorting into one of anger.

“Quit pretending, will you?!”

Pretending?

“What?” Jayce is clueless.

“You barely even looked at me after we had sex! Barely spoke a word! You’re ashamed to be with me, admit it!”

Still clueless. “What?!” He says with more gusto. 

“Barely spoke a wo— ashamed? Me? Ashamed of you? I…I thought— how could you think that?”

Viktor can’t even look at him.

“After we…you barely spoke a word.”

“I was shy,” Jayce exclaims. “It had been awhile for me and…and you were… everything and when you invited me over I was waiting for you to mention it again and you never did!”

“Didn’t think I had to again!” Viktor spits out. 

Jayce, defeated, lets his head drop. “I’m sorry, Viktor. I just got overwhelmed and…and I guess I didn’t realize I had hurt you.”

There’s a long silence and Viktor sighs.

“No. It was me. I left you and avoided you for a week.” He rubs his thumb over his brow bone and contemplates his next few words.

“I’m sorry, Jayce. I guess I was scared you felt indifferent after our coming together.”

“I’d never. I…I had been thinking about it all week, actually.” He chuckles awkwardly, running a hand through his hair and daring to look back at his friend. They look to one another, cheeks blushing red and nervous clammy hands in their own laps. Viktor gives him a knowing smirk.

“Really?” His ears are flushed red from the alcohol and they only increase in intensity at the implication of Jayce’s words.

“Really.” He confirms. He thinks for a moment, Viktor is in his house right now. He’s sitting a foot from him, he might even spend the night and they could…No! He’s in no state!

“You need to shower!”

Viktor’s still inebriated mind jumbles and he was almost too caught up in the thoughts of Jayce taking him right on this couch to realize how badly he stinks after wallowing in his own misery for 7 days. He has to agree.

“Right. Sorry. Show me where?”

Jayce leads him to the bathroom and he even grabs a pair of his sweats and a shirt for Viktor to change into when he’s done.

He showers quickly, using Jayce’s shampoo in the process and it smells like cedar and mint and like Jayce. He thinks back to that morning in the lab and how deeply he was inside him that night. He could touch himself right in this very bathroom, rid himself of his arousal— but that was wrong wasn’t it? In Jayce’s home? It almost excites him further but he knows nothing could suffice except for his Jayce.

While Viktor is tormenting himself with ideas, Jayce is pacing his living room. His partner's scent is everywhere. It’s on the couch, on his clothes he wears, his hands, by the front door, it’s in his senses and it suffocates him. His sweet vanilla scent has taken over the glands inside him and something about it has his composure crumbling, his mouth waters and he’s ashamed to know he can feel himself grow hard in his pants. 

Being a vastaya has its perks, he can hear better, smell better, his reflexes are more refined than the average person, he has great balance due to his tail and his ancient senses can warn him of any nearby danger. 

But, there was one small problem and that was his libido.

Having animal-like attributes didn’t just mean his superior senses— it meant he had the sexual tendencies of an animal too. For a long time it was easy for Jayce to resist those urges, he had never found someone he felt compatible with to the point where he felt like…well, mating with them. But Viktor had changed all of that.

Having him in the man’s home, showering in his bathroom, wearing his clothes, sitting on his couch and drinking from his cups. It’s like a switch went off in Jayce’s brain and suddenly he was in full heat. He can’t say he’s ever felt this way about anyone and holding back these feelings are proving to be too difficult.

It only gets worse when Viktor steps out of the bathroom in Jayce’s clothes.

They practically swallow him whole. His shirt which has his high school crest on it is wrinkly and drapes over Viktor’s small shoulders like a sheet. His sweatpants are much too large and he has to grab a fistful of the fabric and hold it up so as to not expose himself right here in Jayce’s living room. His hair drips water and soaks into the shirt, discoloring it and he actually looks much fresher, like the life in his eyes finally came back and the heat of the water encouraged the blood flow through his cheeks. Or maybe he’s just blushing profusely— either way Jayce felt a sort of pride for being the one to help Viktor.

“Thank you,” is the first thing the older says. He pats his way closer to Jayce and can’t seem to make eye contact. Neither can the other. 

“I…I feel bad.” He admits and Jayce goes to ask why but Viktor continues. “I shouldn’t stay the night, Jayce.” He’s sobered up somewhat since his words aren’t slurring together anymore. 

“You can’t go home alone. I won’t let you.” He’s stern and it surprises both of them. Jayce’s back straightened and his hands curl into fists at his sides. He realizes his harsh tone almost immediately— he’s becoming too possessive again. He relaxes.

“I’m sorry. It’s just—“

“I get it.”

It’s quiet again. Both of them stand there awkwardly and Viktor shivers slightly at the water cooling in his hair. Not even the heat of Jayce’s home could diminish the inevitable shock of cold after stepping out of the shower soaking wet. Jayce notices this.

“Oh—! You must be cold!”

“Jayce, wait—“ He’s already gone into his bedroom and comes back with a large hoodie in his hand— another thing Viktor will be swallowed into. He can’t decline the offer now (not that he would be able to anyway.) “I really can’t stay.”

This crushes Jayce and it’s hard for him to not show it with the way his entire demeanor seems to shift. His body looks too heavy to carry all of a sudden, his tail curls between his legs and his ears turn downward with defeat. 

“I understand.” His ears perk up a little bit with an idea like a lightbulb shining over a cartoon character’s head. “I’m walking you home.”

Viktor takes a step backward and lets out a breathy laugh as he speaks, “That’s not necessary.” 

“No. It is.” It’s final. No arguing, no pushing back. Jayce knows what’s best and Viktor will not be able to have a choice in the matter. Something about his tone is enticing and excites the eldest in a way.

It’s a silent walk, much like most of their night and the palpable tension can be felt by the both of them like the fog that surrounds them as they round the next block to Viktor’s apartment. Viktor leans heavily on his cane, limping as his other hand clutches the waistband/fabric of Jayce’s borrowed sweatpants to keep them up. Jayce wonders how he managed to walk so far so drunk without tripping. Little does he know the amount of times Viktor had to pick himself back up because of  how often he stumbled over his own two feet in his drunken state. He’s much more sober now and there’s still a wobble in his step and his eyesight still isn’t all there but at least he’s not traveling the streets alone drunk anymore. He’s sober enough to be embarrassed that he walked all the way to Jayce’s apartment to be then escorted back to his own like some lost puppy.

It’s when they get to the door that Viktor suddenly feels his body start to give out. The events of the night have caught up with him and he leans his full weight into the door as he unlocks it. Jayce is preparing himself to catch him again if need be when he turns the doorknob but his partner’s got a good grip on the handle and uses it as a crutch.

He doesn’t usually flip the lights on but knowing his furry friend isn’t as familiar with the interior of his home, he does and he kicks off his shoes. Jayce, with politeness, sets his own by the door and steps further into his place.

The scent is the first thing he notices. Warmth, cider, cinnamon and that whiff you get of a new book you open for the first time. There’s hints of sweet vanilla coffee that he knows Viktor brewed just earlier that morning. It fills his chest with a rapture he can’t contain. It’s just so Viktor.

He’s pleased to notice the little figure golem he made right by the front door. It holds its fist into the air and Jayce can see Viktor has utilized it to hold his keys. He smiles towards it and his ears rotate towards the sound of his partner's voice.

“What’s got you so excited?” 

He tilts his head curiously. “Huh?” Viktor tilts his chin and his eyes drop to below Jayce’s waist.

“Your tail is wagging,” he laughs. Blush dusts both of their cheeks. He didn’t even realize it and he immediately stops the wagging then clears his throat.

“Sorry…”

“It’s okay. It’s cute.” 

He doesn’t know how to handle that comment despite knowing he was inside this man just a week ago. 

Viktor tells him to help himself to anything as he turns the corner into a hallway towards what he can only assume is his bedroom. Jayce does not follow but he stands at the entrance and notices that Viktor kept his bedroom door open.

Help himself to anything. He can’t assume that meant waltzing into his room, laying him down and burying his mouth into his cunt was considered anything even though that’s pretty much all he wants at the moment.

He turns towards Viktor’s living room to browse the bookshelves he has on display against his walls. They’re tucked into a corner and a dark red velvet chair sits with a small side table beside it. He notices the mug atop it with coffee staining the inner walls. His eyes trail over the wall of books and that’s where he notices the handmade bookends framing what he recognizes as the elders favorite books. He lets his tail wag freely knowing no one can see.

His eyes dart down to an open book on the seat and he barely takes in the contents before he’s letting them wander somewhere else— but wait— he does a double take and looks back down at the book.

A drawing is shown on the open page. A sketched drawing and color coded diagram of a species of a male vastaya lies on one of the pages. It’s Jayce’s species. Lines connect to body parts and point to a scientific word and Jayce’s eyes linger over a paragraph describing the workings of the body and how it’s different from the human body.

Then he glances to the next page.

Sex Anatomy of the Vastaya

A diagram of a penis is shown and Jayce’s cheeks burn hot like the fires of Ornn. It’s not like he isn’t familiar with what’s being shown! But this book is in Viktor’s apartment, open and on a seat which means he’s been reading it! Which means—

Jayce looks at the diagram. It shows the way a normal human penis becomes erect with a vastaya’s next to it. There’s one big difference between the two.

Vastaya’s penis’ become enlarged at around the middle point of the shaft. It looks sort of like a ball, like a hump and it becomes extremely sensitive. Jayce is curious to see what the segment says about it.

The knot becomes sensitive to the touch and is primarily used in cases of mating. This is when the male vastaya becomes aroused to the point where the goal of the knot is to ensure the likelihood of conception. The knot acts as a plug inside a vaginal canal to increase the chances of pregnancy. 

Now, Jayce has never experienced such a thing himself. He knew he was capable of it, but like the textbook says, it is only during mating or in intense instances of high emotions. Basically, if he’s horny enough he could produce a knot.

But one thing nags at the back of his mind as he reads; Why is this book in Viktor’s collection? Is this sort of thing like his morning paper? Surely not. He can’t even picture him sitting there with this book in his hand. What does he even gain from having the knowledge of the way vastayans mate? There’s no gain for him, is there? 

He shuts the book, unable to read any more (he already knows most of this anyway) and he looks back over his shoulder towards the hallway that leads to Viktor’s room. Worry suddenly bubbles up in his stomach and it churns into anxiety. He needs to check on him.

He makes his way into the room. The lights are off and the room pitch black, but Jayce can see enough. Viktor lays on his bed, eyes fluttering shut and hugging a stray pillow on his messy bed. It’s unmade and his sheets hang off the bed and pool to the ground- he didn’t even bother tucking himself in. The vastaya takes a quiet step forward, reaching his bedside and grabbing for the sheets. He straightens it and looks down at the lying figure.

He looks so cozy in his clothing. He’s let the sweatpants fall so now he’s just in his boxers and Jayce’s t-shirt that’s already ridden up his waist to expose the expanse of his back. He notices the metal following the path of his spine and wonders for a moment where his back brace went. He doesn’t wonder too long though because Viktor for once looks peaceful and he could never disturb that.

He lays the sheets delicately over Viktor and makes sure he’s well tucked before taking a step away.

“See yah.” He whispers affectionately and turns around to leave.

There’s a shuffle, limbs rubbing along fabric and all of a sudden Jayce is being tugged by the end of his tail. 

“Hey—!” His ass falls against the bed and he looks over to Viktor who’s got one eye open and looks up at him with a slight pout.

He parts his lips like he’s going to say something but when Jayce slowly pries his hand off his fur he shuts his mouth for a moment. 

“What’s wrong?” He whispers to his partner.

“Can…” Viktor looks uncertain and he hides under the covers. “Will you stay…?”

Gods, it’s cliché and Jayce shouldn’t spend the night. He can’t think straight with Viktor’s scent suffocating his senses and seeing him in just his shirt has already got him breaking into a sweat. He really shouldn't spend the night…

“Of course I will.”

Fuck, how can I say no to him?

Despite asking him to stay and clearly inviting him onto the bed, Viktor doesn’t cling to him. He’s never been a very physical person nor has he been very intimate. Even during their escapade in their lab he didn’t linger for any kisses, soft touches or any of that pillow talk. It’s just the way Viktor is. But Jayce knows he at least can be touchy with him. So, he wraps an arm around Viktor’s torso and tugs him close until they’re spooning and the smaller one can feel Jayce’s thumping heart.

It’s soothing and he’s already falling into a deep sleep.

Jayce is the first to wake up. He’s not very shocked to see Viktor still slumbering beside him, but their limbs tangling together has him pleasantly stunned. In the middle of the night Viktor turned over and wrapped his arm around Jayce’s waist and shoved his thigh in between his to perfectly shape his body against the other. 

He peels himself away from him even if it does emotionally hurt him to do so. But he needs to piss and he can’t linger here for long. Drunk on his scent and the view of Viktor’s torso half exposed to him to the point where he can see the beginnings of the scars on his chest has him already worked up.

It doesn’t help that he fell asleep half hard and it doesn’t help any further waking up with his lab partner curled into him and sleeping soundly. Something about seeing him so peaceful and knowing he’s the cause for it has Jayce feeling that possessiveness over Viktor once more. 

He finds Viktor’s bathroom and it’s unpleasant to piss when hard but he has no other choice.

Jayce quietly steps back into the room, Viktor’s back is to him and he assumes he’s asleep. He bends down to grab his sock that fell onto the floor— he’s always losing those in his sleep. He turns to leave then.

“Leaving without saying goodbye?” Viktor’s accent is thick and it's riddled with exhaustion but there’s that hint of amusement. Jayce gasps and his eyes widen, his tail sits perfectly still and stands to attention in shock. The man who he had assumed was asleep, turns over and rests on his elbow, he looks at Jayce with stern brows.

“You were just gonna leave me?” 

“I…” Yes he was but he can’t admit that now. They both know the answer to the question but Jayce still lies. “No, no, of course not. Sorry…” He takes a seat on the bed. His tail lays comfortably across the bed and it rests over Viktor’s legs atop the blanket covering him. His delicate fingers instinctively card through the soft fur and Jayce struggles to stop the love sick grin on his face. It’s intimate, the way his fingers feather the brown fur and how soft his eyes become when they look at each other for a moment.

There’s something unspoken between them, it doesn’t need to be said especially since Viktor made his feelings for Jayce very clear their first time together. But Jayce needs the confirmation again. He rests a hand on the bed and leans in a little to talk softly to the man beneath him.

“Did you really mean what you said back then in the lab?”

Puzzled, Viktor looks at him with a cocked brow.

“What did I say?”

He blushes and looks off to the side. “Well, you…invited me for…part two of our…part two of when we—“

“Yes, I did mean it.” Viktor’s tone is very matter of fact and holds no tomfoolery. He’s firm with his answer. There’s a nod from Jayce who still can’t meet his eye.

“Were you…wanting that?”

Jayce is a little too eager with his answer and his tail escapes from Viktor’s fingers to thrash back and forth. 

“Yes! I do want it!”

Viktor struggles to hold in a laugh, clasping his hand over his mouth. 

“Okay, well, we can do that—“ Suddenly the covers are being ripped off of him and Jayce is inserting himself between his thighs, both huge hands on either knee and separating them from each other to fit his large frame. Viktor looks at him with wide eyes and in the crack of light seeping in from between curtains he sees Jayce as the animal he is in this moment.

Ears flicker atop his head, angling downwards with a predatory look to them, his eyes gleaming with determination. He shifts so he’s closer to Viktor.

“We do this now.” He can’t wait. Not when his partner is still in his clothes, not when he’s inside his home, on his bed and taking in Viktor’s entire scent and consuming as much as he can as he loses control of his coherent self. 

“Yeah…alright…we do this now…” Viktor is too stunned to speak more. Curiosity gets the better of him and he inspects Jayce as he gives him the okay.

“Do whatever you need…” He says with a small voice, his words slurring together much like the night before only this time arousal is the cause. He has a slight headache and he knows if it weren’t for Jayce making him hydrate and relax he wouldn’t even be able to get out of bed, let alone engage in sex.

It’s criminal to be up this early, but anything is worth it when Jayce is this needy. 

Viktor watches Jayce’s moves with a calculation, he’s read up on some of these animalistic tendencies the vastaya have and he’s curious to see Jayce finally relent and let this side of him control him.

He does just that.

Jayce presses his hips against Viktor’s and they groan in unison of the feeling of his hard-on pressing into the other's core. He’s still just as large and Viktor’s still amazed for even being able to fit him inside. He doesn’t worry too much about that when Jayce begins grinding into him, his hips thrusting like a dog in heat.

A whimper drips from between Jayce’s lips and his eyes shut tightly, his hips move with expertise and he runs his length up and down Viktor’s clothed slit. The man beneath him lets his body go slack and he breathes heavy, his entire body submitting to the animal above him. His thigh is being grabbed and Jayce digs his claws into his skin so roughly that he almost draws blood. 

Viktor dares to look up at Jayce, his eyes adjusting to the darkness and barely seeing the red blushing his cheeks, down his neck and what chest is exposed. His arms are thick and veins travel up them, large and straining against skin as he gives it his all to thrust. Viktor can feel himself becoming wetter with each press into him and feeling Jayce’s girth. A growl comes from deeply within his chest and Viktor moans at the sound coupling with the sensation of his claws on his pale, soft skin. 

“Jayce—“ Viktor gasps, “Jayce…ahh…” Jayce drops to his elbows, his back arched and hips never relenting. He leans down and presses his mouth into the crook of his partner's neck, his scruff is rough against the other’s jaw and his eyes roll back at the sensation. Jayce’s lips part and his sharp canines press into the skin where his jaw meets his ear and he runs his teeth flush against the skin. Viktor begins gasping and he wraps his arms under his armpits and grabs fistfuls of his shirt on his back.

The room— despite always being freezing— begins to heat up much like Jayce’s apartment, only it wasn’t the heater. Their very bodies pushing together and hot breaths mixing and combining together cause their space to warm and Viktor was already beginning to feel his skin dampen with desire and sweat. He lets out a drawn out moan, high pitched and winey when Jayce clamps his teeth on skin and wraps his lips around to suckle on his delicate skin. It hurts but it hurts good, he can ignore the aching of his back and his leg cramping when he feels that thickness drag across his damp boxers. Gods, Jayce is as girthy as his thigh, perhaps even more.

Jayce’s chest rumbles with a growl of need, his mind becomes muddled with arousal and he can’t seem to stop himself the moment he’s gotten a taste of Viktor pliant skin. He soothes the harsh wound he’s left on his neck with his warm tongue, lapping at it like a dog drinking from a water bowl. His nose grazes over to a new spot where his neck meets his shoulder and in Jayce’s eagerness to have another taste, his canines bite down and this time he draws blood. There’s a yelp, tightening of limbs around him and Viktor’s sound of pain dissolves into another moan and he curses in his mother tongue.

Jayce pulls away enough to take a look at the damage to see two little holes that slowly ooze blood, he places his lips back over it and takes in the metallic taste with his tongue. He holds Viktor down with a strength he didn’t recognize and he pulls his hips away just to snap them back into place like he’s already fucking his partner into the mattress. He lets out another low moan from his chest and finally pulls away, his lips glistening with spit.

“I need to taste you, I can’t help myself.” He’s suddenly grasping at the elastic band of Viktor’s boxers and tugging them with fervor. The other watches this, leaning up on his elbows and lifting his hips as well as he can. Wetness sticks to the boxers in a bridge of clear and white to his forest of hair. His dick poking between the bushes, enlarged and red.

Jayce shimmies himself down further on the bed, he plants kisses down Viktor’s body, biting gently at his nipples and grabbing as much flesh as he could during his descent. His lips trail over scars and moles, kissing the constellations traveling across his body and fingers dancing on his skin like a pianist playing a slow ballad. Careful, calculated and passionate. He kisses down the trail of hair from his bellybutton to where he’s aching and his clit twitches when it feels Jayce’s breath.

He pushes Viktor’s thighs up from the back of his knees and raises them over his own head, his heels find purchase on the vastayans shoulders. He begins to dive in.

His tongue lays flat against the expanse of his dick, swiping side to side and letting his lashes flutter shut as the taste of Viktor spreads across the wet muscle. Satisfied when Viktor releases a sigh and moans, he takes his large clit into his mouth and suckles it. He flicks the tip of his tongue over his clit since he can’t get enough of the way Viktor’s hips buck upward with each suck. Jayce lazily laps at it, spit already collecting in his mouth and spilling out from the corners as he takes in a deep breath after holding it for too long.

“So good…you taste so good…V…” He huffs between lapping. He feels Viktor ooze more arousal fluid to the point where his face is practically drenched in it. He pulls away to take another breath in but Viktor is grabbing his messy hair by the roots and shoving his face back into the bush of coarse hair and his dick gets shoved back into his mouth.

“Don’t stop!” He says breathlessly, hands clammy and heels digging roughly into his shoulders to pin him down. “Please, don’t…keep going…” Jayce thrusts his face forward and backward, tightening his lips around his clit to jerk off the length of it. Viktor begins whimpering, his words turning incoherent and more words in his mother tongue gasp between his lips. Jayce doesn’t understand a word but he can read the tone. Don’t stop. He doesn’t intend to.

Jayce lets go of the man’s clit with a pop of his lips and he slips his tongue between his slit to dive the tip of it into his soaked entrance. His hands now slide to cup his ass cheeks and his thumbs rest on each either side of his dick to spread him apart. Sticky lines of arousal are stuck to hair and he watches Viktor’s hole clamp shut and open, fluttering around nothing and practically aching to be filled. 

His own hips begin to lazily buck into the sheets, his hard-on straining against his clothes and he feels it. He feels part of himself start to expand and pulse, blood pumping through it to increase the size between his legs. Jayce moans loudly, he wants to stuff Viktor full. He briefly thinks back to their morning together, how well Viktor took him and the bulge protruding from his lower stomach with each thrust. The thought alone would be enough for him to cum right there but he’s too determined to mate. An animalistic sound comes deep from his throat and it startles Viktor— a frustrated, rib cage shattering groan that vibrates the entire bed. His tail snaps side to side like a predator ready to pounce on its prey.

“I saw the book you were reading last night.” He says in a low tone, his mouth running along his slit teasingly, up and down, up and down. Viktor’s entire body shivers and he twitches with overstimulation. He takes a breath.

“What book?” He can’t even think right now. What the hell is Jayce doing by engaging in pillow talk in the middle of sex?

He smiles and runs his tongue up and down the shaft of his large clit. He expertly draws a moan from Viktor once more.

“About vastaya’s…” That’s all that needs to be said for Viktor to realize what he means. He goes bright red, ears burning hot and his eyes widen. He was not meant to see that and he’s a fool for keeping it out like that! But how was he supposed to know this would happen?! 

“I…well…”

“About knotting? You’re that curious?”

His confidence comes back to him, he can’t have Jayce have the upper hand like this, can he? He struggles to bite back a whimper when Jayce’s fingers circle around his entrance and barely inserts one finger before he finally dares to speak.

“Mmfh…Don’t you have something to show me, then?” 

Jayce shifts, lapping him up a few more times before he’s finally releasing himself and Viktor lets go of his hair. His fingers delicately rubs across his ears, something so soft and intimate that it makes Jayce’s chest ache with a fullness he can’t quite describe.

He gets up on his knees, Viktor’s legs still spread and he scoots to sit up against the headboard of his bed. He’s not going to miss a show like this— watching Jayce take off his pants and finally reveal his dick once more. Only this time he had much more to show.

His fingers drag the hem of his pants down, unzipping them first and sliding them down along with his briefs to the halfway point past his thighs. There’s an immediate relief as his cock springs forth from the confines of fabric and it bobs a few times, precum drips from the tip as he releases a drawn out sigh. 

Viktor had seen the diagrams, had seen vastaya porn (he could never admit that especially not to Jayce) but he wasn’t expecting such length and girth to come from this man. It truly is thicker than his own thigh. He knows for a fact that if he were to try and wrap a hand around it, his fingers would not meet each other. But still his curiosity gets the better of him and his hand slowly reaches out. When Jayce’s cock lays against his palm, he runs it down the shaft, then to where the knot begins, bulging outward, veins running along it. He can practically feel his heartbeat on the shaft and Viktor follows down and down the underside of his cock until his fingertips drags across Jayce’s balls. Heavy, warm and needing to be emptied. 

He looks up at Jayce then who’s eyes are shut and chest is heaving with deep breaths.

“Take your shirt off,” Viktor says, already stripping his own off, tossing Jayce’s shirt to the side. Jayce takes his off, hairy torso being fully exposed once more. Oh, how Viktor missed it, how often he would lay in this very bed and fantasize about it, touching himself until he was cumming on his fingers to the image of Jayce thrusting into him. Now he’ll once again get the real thing.

“Come here,” he says gently, laying back down and leaning against a pillow so he can have a good view. Jayce takes this moment to awkwardly kick off his pants, now both fully exposed.

He sits between Viktor’s legs, grabbing his dick in his hand and positioning it so his tip kisses Viktor’s. They both release a startled sound of arousal, Viktor already moving his hips to encourage more friction between them but the other falters for a moment.

He stops, looks at Viktor and there’s a hint of worry in his hazel eyes. “I might lose control on you…”

Bewildered for a moment, the older looks at him.

“Okay…and?”

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I don’t think I really care if you do.”

His dick twitches in his hand and he has to physically bite his tongue to halt the moan.

“Don’t…don’t say that…”

“Jayce—“ Viktor reaches out to place a comforting palm on Jayce’s chest, he pets the hair soothingly and they meet eyes. “Let yourself go…give it to me. I know what I’m getting into.”

He really doesn’t. But it’s too late to back out.

Jayce doesn’t even acknowledge what he says, his ears pivot into a phase of concentration and he drags his large length up and down Viktor’s wetness. One hand grabs his waist, the other holding the base of his cock to steady it. His knot seems to grow in size and even he can’t believe his eyes to the sheer size of it. It’s so thick and he can barely get enough coating of Viktor’s arousal to even begin to think about entering him.

He looks up, desperate. “You have any lube?” 

Viktor is quick to grab some from his bedside table and Jayce puts a generous amount in his hand and warms it in his palm before he’s slowly jerking himself off.

That textbook wasn’t joking, his knot is indeed extremely sensitive but he makes sure to lube the base of it as much as he can before he’s aligning his tip to Viktor’s entrance. 

“Shit…stay still,” He warns with a softer tone, but that rumble in his chest still lingers. Viktor holds his breath, trying to relax his muscles as Jayce begins to insert himself.

He’s been fucking himself for a week now, he’s used to a girth but this one…this girth that’s pushing inside him hurts. He scrunches his face in pain and throws his head back.

“Agh….Mmmfhh…Jayce…m-more lube!” He chokes, the head of his dick splitting him so far apart he can feel the burn of it. He’s quick to slather more lube, pull away slightly to watch it dribble down his head and into Viktor before he attempts to enter him again.

It goes smoothly this time, he slides right in and there’s still the burn of the stretch but it’s pleasant enough for Viktor to release an aching whine. He swears under his breath, he cups his hands under his knees to hold his legs up and he lets his chin drop to watch Jayce force his way inside him.

His knot comes up fast, his stomach is already bulging in size and Viktor’s jaw locks open in an aroused shock. He slides his hand to his lower stomach and palms the length poking through. Jayce falters, his thighs tremble and his cock twitches at the sensation. His knot lays flush against Viktor’s fluttering hole and he can’t stop himself.

Jayce pulls back, witnessing his glistening length slowly pull out, and in the same pace he pushes back in. Viktor’s hand now grasps his pillow beneath his head and he gasps his partner's name. His knot slides in just barely, and he repeats the same slow thrust.

The bed begins to creak under their weight, Jayce is moving slowly and calculated so as to not hurt Viktor or stretch him too harshly. He’s patient despite the struggle already hold back filling him up with his seed and fucking it into him until his knot get stuck inside him. He’s a good boy and he’ll let it happen naturally.

That is until one simple word slips out of Viktor’s beautiful mouth.

“Faster.”

Jayce’s hips snap, skin on skin starts to rise in volume and he obeys, his thrust going a little bit faster. Just enough to cause Viktor’s body to lurch with each press into him. He’s fitting his knot half way now, just a few more thrusts and—

“Harder.” 

Jayce has to grab Viktor’s waist with both hands now, his thumbs dig into his hip bones, his gaze drops down to watch his stomach protrude and indent back to its normal state over and over again until finally he lets out a groan, a strained sound and he snaps his hips so harshly that Viktor cries out as he’s forced to take the entire knot.

He squeezes around it and Jayce barely feels it, he’s already so tight around him, any spasm around him barely flutters the nerves on his cock. He pulls out, both of them gasping before he’s plunging forward with such fierce strength that his thighs smack against the back of Viktor’s with a harsh sound that echoes in the room.

“Vik…fuck…!” His knot goes deep inside his partner and this time he feels his hole tighten around him. When he tries to pull out he finds he can’t. His knot is stuck and all he can do now is desperately rut into Viktor like a dog in a ferocious heat. 

Jayce lifts Viktor’s hips off the bed and the sound of their moans mix together in a filthy harmony of their carnal desire for one another.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” He swears. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” Jayce whimpers, unrelenting with his thrusting, guilt trickling into his muddled mind as he uses Viktor’s body for his own pleasure.

“I’m sorry…I’m sorry…I need this…I need you…please…” His lower abdomen begins to tighten, his balls smack hard and heavy into Viktor’s ass and Jayce’s tail wags frantically. He’s already getting close.

Viktor reaches downward, hand lingering on his stomach once more to feel the protruding cock in his stomach before he slides it further down to wildly jerk himself off with three fingers.

“Jayce…Aghh…cum in me…”

“I will— shit, V. I’ll cum in you again and again…I’m sorry but I need to—“ He chokes on a groan. “I need you to breed you…fill you up full and— haaah— fuck my cum into you…”

“Do it…I’m close…Jayce, just— přesně tam— make me cum…”

Jayce presses Viktor back into the bed and presses his chest against the other’s. He replaces Viktor’s fingers with his own and they lock eyes as Jayce gets him closer to his orgasm.

“I’m right there with you,” His voice trembles with each thrust, “C’mon, V…cum for me and I’ll cum for you…”

And that was enough. Jayce’s fingers quicken on his clit as Viktor cries out, his body begins convulsing as the tsunami of pleasure invades his entire being. Jayce feels him flutter around his cock, tightening and pulsing, his clit jolting as his body rides out his orgasm. He grabs for his partner's shoulders, digging his nails into him now and he lifts his legs, wrapping them around Jayce’s waist.

“Jayce…ngh…cum in me!” 

He gives one final thrust, his cock spurts out white ropes inside him, sweat gathers at his forehead and he rides out his own orgasm now. Viktor moans at the sensation, wetness increasing between them, feeling the head of Jayce’s cock press into his cervix, his knot stretching him so well and plugging him up so no cum can escape. 

Jayce ruts his hips harshly into Viktor’s, the ropes of his cum never ceasing. His balls tighten, thighs ache when the muscles contract and he can’t seem to stop filling him up. He knows it’s only Viktor who can make him feel this way, no other partner has ever been able to make him feel this strongly. He lowers his head into his neck when his dick begins to feel too sensitive and he lets out a strained groan when his climax finally begins to subside.

He makes sure not to let his entire dead weight lay atop of Viktor, he holds his upper torso above him and lets his head hang. His chest heaves with each heavy breath, the both of them attempting to catch it together. Viktor’s legs unwind around him and he flops them back down onto the bed. Jayce wishes he could he could rest, lay down next to him and relax in Viktor’s arms but—

“I think I’m stuck inside you…” He admits weakly, letting out a defeated chuckle and Viktor laughs hoarsely. He feels delicate fingers on his scruff, scratching under his chin much like he did a week ago and lifts the vastaya’s chin so they can look at each other.

“You haven’t kissed me,” Viktor says almost in a disappointing tone. Jayce does not hesitate to lean in and hook his lips in between the other’s. Viktor’s fingers instantly find themselves in his tousles of hair, thumbs finding the base of his ears instantly and rubbing them soothingly— massaging them and it draws out a broken moan from Jayce.

Their lips slot between each other’s, Jayce taking the lead for the most part and struggling to not devour Viktor right here. He cups a hand over his cheek, his hand so large that three of his fingers rest on his neck under his jaw and he slips his tongue out to taste the inside of Viktor’s mouth.

He still tastes the alcohol, the hint of coffee from the night previous. As for Viktor, he tastes that faint saltiness of his own excitement on Jayce’s tongue from when he went down on him. He can feel the desire, passion and need in the way his tongue invades his mouth and invites itself to run along his teeth and press into his own tongue. They both part their lips and let the wet muscles swirl together is a messy evidence of their dedication for one another. 

Jayce suddenly pulls away.

“I won’t be able to get out of you if we keep kissing like this…” He lets out a breathy laugh, kissing Viktor once more but on the cheek this time. The man underneath him shifts and tightens around him to feel that his knot has not subsided at all in the slightest.

“Hm,” He hums and wiggles his hips side to side. “Guess we’ll have to do a part three, won’t we?”

Jayce, in shock, lifts himself up on his elbows and meets Viktor’s gaze. 

“You’re insane. I could hurt you!”

There’s a pointed look. “Do you really think I care? Haven’t we gone over this?”

He’s stupid for still being concerned, clearly.

“Right. Sorry.” 

They catch each other's breath for a beat long before Jayce begins to try and pull out of Viktor. It’s no use, he’s bulging, still hard and being squeezed around so tightly he’s afraid he might tear something inside him. He can only move a few centimeters backward but it’s enough for him to rock his body into Viktor’s.

Instantly there are limbs wrapping around him.

“Yes,” Viktor breathes, “Right there…” His tip grazes his cervix, kissing it with each thrust and there’s a filthy wet sound between them. His partner is becoming wet again, lubing him up even further and his hole loosens with arousal and it gives Jayce enough room to pull out of him halfway over his knot and push back inside him with a great force. 

“Fuck,” Jayce releases with a bestial grumble, his cock already aching and sensitive, ready to fill Viktor even more with him. “So tight—“ He gasps, tucking his face into his neck and biting down hard once more and drawing blood. Iron spills into his mouth and nails dig into his back surely leaving marks in their wake. A whimper and cry out in pain comes from below him and he fucks into Viktor harder, voice shaking and headboard slamming into the wall. If the neighbors somehow didn’t hear them earlier then now they would. 

“Jayce…use me!” He cries. “You’re so deep— kurva— I can feel you—“ He lays his hand back over his stomach, the dick imprint protruding over and over. They both look at it in wonder, Jayce’s lips now tinged with blood.

“Look how deep you are…” Viktor says softly. Slack jawed and moaning, he lolls his head backward into his pillow as the pleasure and overstimulation haunts his nervous system. Viktor’s body trembles again, barely five minutes into round two and he’s already drawing closer to his second orgasm.

The larger man above him pins him down with his hand, grabbing his wrists and slamming his pelvis into Viktor, skin slapping together in a vicious sound and he feels his own cum begin to slip past his knot and dribble down the underside of his cock and down into Viktor’s ass. 

“Gonna cum for me again?” He asks with a harshness he doesn’t even recognize. His fingers are tightly wound around Viktor’s wrists and he knows he’s going to leave purple marks, possibly bruising. He knows he’ll feel bad about it later.

His partner can only nod, sucking in his bottom lip to chew on it, neck growing red in color and chest heaving as he struggles to hold back his wave of pleasure. He nods his head frantically and releases a gasp.

“Yes! Yes! I’m going to cum again!”

“Not yet— don’t…not until I do,” Jayce demands. He releases one of his wrists to push down Viktor’s leg against the bed and witness the way his cock slides in and out, it’s creamy and soaking, he see’s Viktor’s dick twitch and muscles tighten when he struggles further to hold back his orgasm.

“I��m almost there…let…ugh…let me bury my cum in you and then you can too, okay?” 

“Use my cunt,” Viktor cries out his plea. “Use me…Jayce…give it to me…”

He’s already cumming again, getting to the finishing line much quicker, his dick almost hurting with how overstimulating it all is but that doesn’t lessen the pleasure he feels when he shoots more hot ropes into Viktor’s pliant cunt.

It increases when he doesn’t stop abusive plunging and Viktor finally cums around him.

Once more Viktor cries out and his leg breaks free from Jayce’s grasp and they rise above his head as liquid pours out of him a violent spray, soaking Jayce’s lower torso and dripping down him and his partners thighs.

“Fuck, V—“ Jayce pulls out immediately and grabs himself at the base to grind his knot against his dick. More liquid sprays around them and Jayce does his best to help Viktor ride his orgasm out. 

Cum seeps out of his hole and into a puddle into the sheets, staining them and soaking them all the way to the mattress. His entire body goes limp all except for the final jolts of the residual climax causing his whole body to jostle as each wave dies down.

Immediately, Jayce begins after care, leaning down to kiss Viktor on his sweaty forehead. He brushes sticky hair off his forehead and kisses the skin exposed, salt tints his lips and he can taste it when he runs his tongue along them. He stops himself from calling Viktor beautiful, being too shy but knowing he has to later.

He’s handsome, laid out on the bed, eyes half lidded and flowers of bruises and marks beginning to bloom across his pale, beautiful skin. Moles frame the artwork left by Jayce’s fingers that he reaches out to pet and leans down to kiss each one.

“You okay?” He asks with a soft tone, his voice hoarse but fingers delicate and tentative to sensitive skin. Viktor nods, cracking his eyes open to look up at Jayce with a crooked smile, teeth shown.

“Yeah…I’m great,” He groans, his stiff legs moving to squeeze together and more cum oozes out of him like honey. “Achy…but okay…” He struggles to sit up on his elbows and Jayce scoots himself to help, wrapping an arm around him and their faces are inches from each other. They pause for a second, taking in the silence between them all except their huffs of breath that escape their lips. Viktor’s eyes glance down to Jayce’s lips, then back up to his eyes.

A beat. Viktor cups a hand over the side of his neck and follows his jawline with his thumb.

“Kiss me?” He asks with a knowing smile.

Jayce leans in gently, ghosting his lips over Viktor’s and pressing them together with a patience they lacked just minutes ago.

They’re like this for a while, in each other's arms, kissing and running their hands through their hair. Viktor massages Jayce’s ears at their base, rubbing his thumb into the cartilage and Jayce lets out a purr, rumbling into his chest and fluttering his eyes shut, rolling back into his head at the pleasure. Then nails scratch around the base of them and Jayce lets out another sound of pleasure.

“You really are like a dog, hm?” Viktor teases.

“I could bite like one too.”

“Oh, I know very well.” They chuckle and Jayce dips his face into Viktor’s palm that pulls away from his ear. His tail twitches, wanting to wag but not being able to have the energy to. 

More silence and Jayce slowly gets off the bed to begin the cleanup.

“Let me help you change the sheets. You got a bathtub?” Viktor hums a yes and points Jayce to the door where he walks in and already starts a bath.

“You take a bath while I clean, yeah?” He’s not going to give Viktor a choice in the matter but he’s still polite. Viktor blushes over the kindness of his partner and he nods.

“You’re too sweet, Jayce.”

He shrugs. “I just like you…a lot.”

He picks Viktor up like a princess and carries him to the bathroom. His arms are around Jayce’s neck and he smiles up at him.

“I like you a lot too…Can we do this again?”

Jayce gives him a side eye.

“Let’s take a break for a bit before we do this again.” 

[sharkieboi]

it may be the sleep deprivation talking but if I don’t get this job my friend is trying to help me get cause of Orange Jackass and the funding cuts and hiring freezes, I am going full tilt “fuck it” mode into getting into that PhD program I’ve been eyeing for at least five years at this point

[fangswbenefits]

Suit Up

Summary: Miguel craves to mark you as his, but he’ll have to start slow… so he offers to build you a custom suit. For now.

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x spider-woman!reader

18+. Miguel POV. Obsessed Miguel. Innocent and inexperienced reader. Pining. Sexual tension and frustration. Masturbation. Breeding kink.

* ˚ ✦ Part 1 (you don’t have to read it to enjoy this one)

Miguel had decided he was going to build you a suit.

Not just a regular one, but an extension of his own.

He craved to have you for himself, and to have others know that. But he’d have to play his cards right. This level of obsession could easily scare someone off at first.

Especially you.

His sweet, sweet girl.

So he settled for this: building you a custom digital suit to match his.

Slowly, but surely you’d start to connect yourself to him more often.

Or so he hoped.

He found you in his lab early in the morning, sitting by the desk while taking your sweet time with a slice of watermelon.

“Good morning.”

As expected, you jolted in your seat, turning to face him.

A few droplets of juice dribbled down from your lips and chin, and eventually landing on your shirt.

You offered him a messy grin, bits of watermelon all over your teeth, but the absolute innocence of that action tore straight down to his cock.

“Oh! Miguel, hi! Sorry—” your voice came out slightly muffled, as you placed the half moon slice on a plate. “This watermelon is so sweet! Want a taste?”

His brow furrowed and he halted right in front of you. “There’s…” his voice trailed off, eyes fixed on your chin.

You immediately picked up on the implication and wiped the sugary liquid from your skin with a napkin, bringing a few fingers to your lips as well.

Miguel cursed inwardly and wondered if you were truly unaware of how suggestive all of this looked.

He slapped that thought away. No. You were too innocent for that. Your words and actions held no second meaning.

You were genuinely so fucking clueless that it only served to fuel his obsession with you.

His cock gave him a warning twitch.

He was all too familiar with those by now.

Would you be this messy while sucking him off? Would you not be able to keep it all in and eventually swallow?

He’d be fine with you not swallowing it all at first. After all, he did cum a lot. It would probably be overwhelming for someone as innocent and inexperienced as you.

“Miguel?”

Your voice snapped him out of his thoughts at once. “Yes?”

“I’m sorry for making a mess,” you said, hurriedly cleaning the desk.

There was no doubt you’d be the death of him.

Apologising for making a mess…

“Don’t worry about that,” he managed to say flatly. “I’m sure it tasted really good.”

You then smiled once more and let out a cock-twitching groan. “Oh, yes! But… why did you want me in here my casuals today?”

Right.

He moved to tap the hovering screens in front of him. “I was thinking you suit might need an upgrade.”

“What? But I built this one myself… what’s wrong with it?” you whined softly, sticking your bottom lip out.

His cock twitched again.

“I know, I know,” he reassured you with extreme ease. “But I’ve been working on a prototype of my digital suit and would like for you to test it out.”

A blatant lie.

He had just decided this the night before, after that post nut clarity had hit him hard.

How else would he mark you without you even realising?

You blinked a few times, having to tilt your head up to stare at him, and it was enough to flare his imagination.

“Really?” the excitement in your voice was palpable and he felt a sudden rush of satisfaction. “That… that would be an honour, Miguel!”

His fingers tapped through multiple files. “You’ve been helping me out a lot in the lab lately. It’s only fair that I show my appreciation.”

Your gaze wavered momentarily, broken by his genuine praise, and Miguel nearlt bit his lip from this sight alone.

“I do it willingly, Miguel. I love learning new things from you,” your eyes were back on his, and you were bearing a warm smile. “You’re a great teacher!”

He tried hard to tear his gaze away from your lips, and offered a mere nod.

You deserved more than a nod.

And your eagerness to learn from him made him feel swollen with pride. An ego booster.

It was quite addicting.

He’d teach you so much more if you’d let him. He’d teach you how to embrace your pleasure and use it for him only. Oh, how he’d enjoy teaching you how to suck his cock, or how to use your words to turn him on.

Fuck.

He would teach you all he knew.

You’d have all of him.

But he wanted you to want him the way he wanted you. No. He needed you to need him. To crave and yearn and feel the unfair ropes of despair tighten around you.

“I’ll just need your measurements,” he said, fetching a couple of measuring bands from a top shelf. “These will measure every tiny detail, so the fit is as suitable as possible.”

You nodded eagerly, lips slightly parted. He moved to grab each wrist, closing the metallic band around each wrist.

“Feet up,” he asked, hoping his voice wouldn’t betray his true feelings.

You lifted one leg after the other, and he carefully clasped them around your ankles, the feel of your warm skin and proximity nearly having him bite his own lip.

“Wait, do I have be naked?”

The question caught him completely off guard and he straightened up at once. “What?”

Miguel felt more blood rushing downwards and was grateful his own suit was able to keep most of his strained erection from sight.

You broke into a nervous laugh. “Oh — I mean… you’re naked under your suit, right?”

He nodded. “Your suit becomes an extension of yourself and it should feel like a second layer of skin,” he added, extending one arm out, and allowed you to see the digital layer of fabric quickly retracting from the tips of his fingers all the way down his naked torso.

The reaction was immediate.

Your eyes landed on him for only a split second, before looking away.

For the second time that day, Miguel’s ego soared to incredibly dangerous heights.

You looked so innocent and sheepish, not daring to gaze at his incredible physique once again.

He wouldn’t hold that against you, though. You’d have plenty of time to gawk at his body once he managed to break into your mind, and make you his.

“It feels more comfortable this way,” he added reassuringly, as his suit promptly covered his exposed skin once again.

You turned to look at him again. “Oh! So I don’t actually have to be naked,” you giggled in relief.

“No,” Not for this, he wanted to add.

The height difference was starting to take a toll on his ability to focus. Having you sitting on that chair, perfectly levelled to engange in a more suggestive scenario, was enough to feel the blood boil in his veins.

He needed more.

He needed to touch you.

“Let’s boot the measuring analysis program,” Miguel took your hand in his and helped you on your feet. “I need you to stand still.”

He needed so much more than that from you, but he’d have to settle for silent agony for now.

You were visibly excited, barely able to contain yourself as a smile settled on your face, and he felt the sudden urge to praise you for being so eager and such a tease.

He tapped a few commands on his watch, and came to stand behind you, careful not to stand too close, or you’d notice his hard cock.

“Do you trust me?”

You shouldn’t…

You turned your head to the side to look into his crimson eyes, confusion twisting your face. “Of course I do, Miguel.”

… because he wouldn’t.

He rolled his fingers along the hem of your shirt, slowly rolling it upwards. His heart went into overdrive instantly and he could feel the first droplets of precum dripping down his cock.

You flinched once his knuckles brushed against your skin.

“Are you okay?” he asked, halting at once.

You nodded and giggled lighty. “That tickles.”

His sweet girl…

How was he supposed to endure burying himself inside you inch by inch when he couldn’t barely keep his composure now?

Once the shirt was resting under your breasts, he moved one hand to grip it gently from behind, effectively tightening the fabric flat over you. From where he stood, he could see your bra’s outline and how your breasts heaved with each breath you took.

This was driving him mad.

Your cleavage was so inviting and he had to take a step back, ensuring his erection wouldn’t accidentally brush against your ass.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to take this off?” you asked.

You were so fucking sweet and innocent, and he wanted nothing more than to rip all of your clothes apart.

“Just let the program scan your body,” he said, voice strained and breath coming out in shallow pants. “Can you do that for me?”

“Yes,” you immediately replied.

Such a good girl for him… his sweet girl…

He would want to ask that same question the day he got to teach you how to suck his cock.

You’d struggle at first.

But he’d be patient.

He’d probably need to come up with a serum to inject himself with to keep from exploding right away, and he couldn’t have that.

You would need proper guidance, wouldn’t you? How he’d love to have you on your knees, mouth dropped open and receptive.

His other hand was now pressed flat against your tummy and he nearly bucked his hips in response.

Careful, Miguel, he scolded himself.

Was this too much?

In reality, he didn’t need to be doing any of this for measurements, but he couldn’t help himself.

He needed you closer.

He needed to feel you shudder against his touch.

He needed you to need him.

You gasped softly once he started to moved his hand down ever so slightly, fingers nearly touching the waisgband of your pants.

“Ticklish?” he asked in a low voice.

You hummed, bucking your hips into him with a faint giggle, and he felt his cock into contact with your ass.

Oh, fuck.

He had to let go of you right away, flinching back.

You turned to eye him, worry plastered all of your face. “Did I hurt you?”

“No!” he said right away, more precum droplets spilling out. “I think the analysis is complete,” he cleared his throat and turned his back to her, looking down to his bulge.

He wish he could set his cock free.

No.

He wish you would offer to set his cock free.

He wanted you to know and see how much his body craved yours.

“Miguel, are you okay?” you asked tenderly, moving to stand by his side, brushing his tense bicep. “We can finish this some other time.”

Was it really possible for someone to be this clueless? Was your inexperience that blinding? Hadn’t you felt his erection?

Against his will, he nodded.

He needed you gone right away.

He had to get off urgently.

“You’re overworking yourself again…”

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

How he’d love to make you his and have you take care of him.

Your hand squeezed his muscles gently. “Is there anything I can do?”

Please, touch me… “No. I’ll just finish the suit and have you test it out soon.”

Your hand dropped.

Maybe if he asked you to let him fuck your hand, you’d let him. Maybe.

He’d settle for you watching him jerk off to you, at this point.

“Can I pick the colours?” you then beamed, glancing up at the orange screens. “Can I? Please?”

He swallowed the lump in his throat. “Sure. I’ll be right back.”

“Okay!” you chirped happily, swiping across the customisation menu on the screen.

Miguel paced quickly into a storage room to his left, groaning into the back of his hand.

In no time, he had the front part of his lower half of his suit vanish, cock springing free, fully coated with precum.

He let out a strained and breathy sigh of absolute relief.

“Ay, Miguel…” he muttered to himself, realising just how badly this obsession had gotten.

His cock twitched, sending strand of precum to dangle from the tip.

From this angle, he could see your back, shirt still nicely tucked under your breasts, revealing so much of your skin to him.

That would do.

For now.

Wrapping his fingers around his cock, he set a slow pace at first, testing out his limit.

Dangerously close.

It was unfair that you were so close, yet so far. You were completely unaware of your effect on him.

Faint anger took over him.

You should be the one to bring him relief.

This was all on you… his sweet, innocent, inexperienced girl.

The pace quickened and he felt his fangs extending in anticipation.

You were bending over the desk, lifting your ass just enough for his mind to have imagining himself ramming into your from the back.

You’d love that position. Maybe not at first, but he’d teach you to enjoy thoroughly.

Being rawed and bred. You’d be a loving mother, wouldn’t you? You’d let him breed you over and over again, because you were just nice like that.

So eager to please.

He wished you’d bend over a little more, so he could fully immerse himself in his lust.

Feeling one fang dig into his lower lip, Miguel wondered how long it would take to draw blood, considering how hard it was for him to suppress his groans.

He couldn’t tear his eyes from you and his desire nearly pained him, because his hand would never be as tight as you, and it would never feel like you.

But he had to get rid of this now.

He had to complete your suit and mark you as his.

Everyone in Nueva York and across other universes would know you were his.

They would know not to cross you, for his wrath would be unmatched.

The sweet tingles of an orgasm soon engulfed him whole, and he threw his head back and fluttered his eyes shut, relying on his mind to keep your alive as he fucked himself for you.

Just you.

His sweet girl.

Just his.

He squeezed the first spurts of warm cum with his fingers, allowing himself go roll his hips in a broken rhythm.

The metallic taste of blood pooled in his tongue and he knew his fang has dug too deep, but he didn’t care.

He would break himself for you.

And you would, too.

You just didn’t know it yet.

Part 3

Masterlist

[juststrawberrytea]

thinking about cuddling s1 Viktor ♡

It's no secret that Viktor practically lives in the lab. The countless hours of tinkering and testing often meant long nights for him. He doesn't even know how or when but you managed to convince the scientist to spend the night with you.

An hour after midnight you hear a knock on your door. A tired Viktor stands at your door's entrance. His disheveled hair falling over his forehead, the bags under his eyes more noticeable now. You take his hand, cold skin against your warm palm, and bring him inside. Your cozy dorm sheltering you from the cold winter outside.

"I apologize for coming over so late." His tired voice, sounding almost like a whisper, comes from behind you as you lead him into your bedroom.

"I'm surprised you came." You softly chuckle. You help him take off his coat, placing it over a chair in the corner of your room. You notice the way his eyes fell onto your bed.

Viktor's gaze locked onto the plush blankets that adorned your bed. He noticed the soft glow of your lights which gave your room a warmth that was very inviting. The air in your room alone was a stark contrast to the metallic tang of the lab. He couldn’t ignore the faintly laced, intoxicating trace of your perfume, no matter how hard he tried.

"I'm surprised as well." He quietly mumbled. His eyes glanced over your trinkets and decor. Your room was far more comfortable than he had imagined.

You sit up on your bed and pat the empty space beside you.

"Right. I'll, uh... I’ll just get comfortable.” His heart suddenly in his throat.

"I won't look. I promise." You say as you grab a book from your drawer. You pretend to read, your back facing him, but all you can do is imagine the way his long fingers unbutton his vest. The soft material sliding down his back. You wanted nothing more than to help him unbutton his white shirt. To see his collarbones peaking through, his chest being exposed after each button becomes undone. You wanted to-

"I should probably keep these... on." His quiet voice cutting off your thoughts as he slides into the bed. You put your book down as you feel the bed dip beside you and get under the bedsheets, noticing he stripped down to his underwear. Like a magnet, your hand finds his and you intertwine your fingers together. His skin was still cold compared to yours, the tips of his fingers and his knuckles slightly red from the bitter wind outside.

"Come here." He pulls you in, wrapping his arm around you. Unable to refrain himself, he buries his nose in your hair, breathing in the sweet fragrance of your perfume as he holds you close against his chest. Your warmth immediately soothing him, his body melting and relaxing into your bed.

There was a comfortable silence between you two. His buzzing mind slowly comes to a halt when he feels your body go limp against him.

"Darling?" He calls for you softly but is only met with a soft hum as a response. He smiles as he watches over you. God, you looked so peaceful. The way your face softened as you slept, the way your lashes looked... he could never find the right way to put it into words but dammit he knew you were everything to him.

Viktor lets out a small sigh, his head falling back on the pillow as he savors the moment. For once, he actually relaxes. For once, the tightness from his shoulders and back fades away. The thoughts of his mind now occupied by you... your room, your warmth instead of numbers and scientific theories. He felt safe here, a different kind of safe. His heart tightened in chest as he noticed he would never be able to sleep without you.

He could feel his eyelids slowly getting heavy, eyebrows no longer borrowed tightly, realizing it had been a while since he actually slept. Here, in the quiet of your room, he could hold the world at bay even if it was just for a little while.

Viktor experiences his first deep sleep in a very long time, only stirring when he feels your body shifting against him.

[honeydewandcake]

TW — Asylum/Hospital setting, mental disorders, medical malpractice

Inspired by Fran Bow, Sparklecare, Pure Trance, and other such things; I had an idea for a Dandy’s World AU that centers around a hospital setting

I feel like a lot of people don’t like asylum or hospital AUs because they are full of exaggerated or misinformed ideas of what mental illness is. I tried not to do that, though I’m not a professional so I still might be wrong about some things. I don’t want to take this idea too far in fear that it might be distasteful, but I do want to share this idea to see if others like it too.

Dandy’s Care is a separate world where, instead of a museum, Dandy and his friends were meant to be for a children’s hospital to treat the sick and ill. They were meant to be comfort characters to patients and were meant to support them during their stay. Like in Dandy’s World, the hospital shut down due to unspecified sanitation issues. Dandy, also known as Dr. Dandicus Dancifer, slowly became more and more starved for activity. He started targeting his friends, making the hospital into an asylum for them. He changed their characters, changing his friends into patients. The toons have no memory of their former self, only knowing their diseased and ill present self.

The staff is made up of the main toons. All of them are nurses and Dandy is the main doctor. They all act like their former selves, though they have no memory. I didn’t want to draw all of them so just imagine Astro and Vee in these uniforms.

Read more to see other toons (not all of them drawn or thought of yet, don’t attack me ;-;) ↓

Razzle and Dazzle, the only ones that I thought of completely because I already drew them before. They’re the reason why I made this entire thing anyway.

They are just experiments by Dandy, who wanted to see if the two could live together if they were attached. They used to love each other, now they don’t. Razzle is no longer looking for comedy, Dazzle is no longer looking for hope. Both are only set on the idea of revenge against Dandy for making them this way.

Life is hard when you can only feel the sensations on one half on your body, they can barely walk and can only stand or sit. They take many painkillers as their wounds take a long time to health properly. They wish they could escape this place and just die already, but they’re stuck and forced to live for as long as Dandy wants.

Razzle is a lot more violent now. He is prone to biting and scratching the staff. He hates doing all the lab tests and medical procedures, he hates being near Dazzle, he hates being stuck in this living hell. Razzle is the reason why they’re not allowed near sharp or blunt objects.

Dazzle became paranoid, scared of any noise that happens. He’s terrified of Razzle because of how violent he can get, he hates him too. Dazzle cries a lot, he cries until he can’t everyday. Dazzle wishes he could just die already, he thinks everything is scary and out to get him.

Shrimpo is thought to be a patient that had anger issues and aggressive tendencies. According to Dandy, he was admitted for being violent in public, although this is only part of the fake story that Dandy gave him. Shrimpo was forced to get a lobotomy, unethical but who cares. Dandy sure didn’t.

He’s still in the recovery phase, so he might be a bit loopy. Once those bandages are off, he’ll be as right as rain. Shrimpo is a wanderer around the hospital as he’s no longer a threat. He’s allowed to leave his room and go out in the play yard but only if a nurse is with him.

Shrimpo doesn’t really have much going for him. His thoughts are scrambled and he only cares for things in front of him. Although the lobotomy made him more passive, it doesn’t mean he’s any better in terms of motivation. Shrimpo certainly has no drive for anything anymore, he doesn’t mind but it gets in the way of his health as well. The staff needs to remind him to go to the dining room to eat or to go take a shower, because otherwise he’ll forget.

Boxten was made to believe that he has had problems with insomnia ever since he was little, of course it’s not true. He takes sleeping pills and melatonin, but it only seems to worsen his nightmares. This makes him skip his doses to avoid sleeping, repeating the cycle over and over.

Boxten is afraid of imaginary things that might get him. He thinks they’ve already in his head, eating away at his brain and giving him nightmares. Of course the only thing the nurses can see is his music box. Boxten has lost all trust in the staff since they couldn’t see or feel the things he can.

In my original notes, it said that Boxten might have psychosis.

Well that’s all the once I’ve drawn, I don’t really have the motivation to make every single toon. I have a couple of ideas though

— Goob somehow survived a terrible accident, but both his arms needed to be amputated making him armless. He suffers from brain damage and internal bleeding. He doesn’t seem to have any change in his personality, still as joyful as ever. Maybe it’s a coping mechanism

— Tisha has severe OCD which damages her mental health. She’s constantly worried about everything that happens around her, making her super aware of her surroundings. She could be a danger to herself and others as she sometimes has very aggressive thoughts but can’t control her actions. She unintentionally hurts herself because of her OCD, such as washing her hands so many times that they start to bleed.

Not for a toon, but I did have an idea for an added addition to the hospital. Maybe there’s a twisted reform center where the staff try and heal twisteds back to their normal self. They would clean the ichor from them but since the ichor is also inside of them their personalities don’t change as much. Twisteds such as Finn and R&D might be too far gone though, they would have to be disabled for life. I might draw this idea because I think it’s kind of cool, I definitely will if people also think this is interesting.

[oddinary4bts]

Chasing Cars | ch 10 (jjk)

☆summary: when your brother goes to study on a semester abroad, your life collides with his best friend Jeon Jungkook, who's coincidentally your roommate. Will you survive the collision, or will you crumble into dust?

☆pairings: brother's best friend!Jungkook x younger sister!female reader, Yoongi x Hoseok

☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI, this chapter contains mature content)

☆genre: forbidden love?au, college!au, slice of life!au, smut, angst (as usual a lot of it), fluff

☆warnings: side character breakup, jungkook is still a little jealous lmao, alcohol, curses, they both are anxious to lose each other tbh, explicit content: hickey, breast play, oral sex (male receiving), jerking off, fingering, protected sex

☆word count: 10.1k

☆a/n: fun fact, this is the chapter that made me choose the title for this fic!! and this is also where the angst starts :') I hope you still enjoy reading <3 and thank you to @moonleeai for beta-ing, you're the best <3

☆series masterpost

☆add yourself to the taglist here!

☆☆☆☆☆

If I lay here If I just lay here Would you lie with me and just forget the world?

Chasing Cars, Snow Patrol

☆☆☆☆☆

Monday, March 25th 

You hate college. More specifically, you hate having to turn in multiple lab reports every week. There’s just something about building a lab report that irks you.

You don’t know how researchers do it. You think you’d go insane if you had to write report after report after report but…

You’re already going insane after all.

You sigh, rubbing a hand on your forehead as you look at the tables you’ve been trying to make for half an hour. Yoongi, sitting across from you, raises his head from his laptop, an eyebrow cocked. You offer him a tight-lipped smile, going back to your report as he doesn’t pry, focusing back on his own work.

As much as he spoke to you at the party last week, Yoongi has been a lot more silent today. You reckon you might know why - Hoseok said in the group chat that he’d come to study too, and he’s yet to show up. It’s evening now, and you have a feeling he’s just not going to come. 

You don’t know if you can entirely blame him - it’s Spring Break after all, and most people are trying to forget about college for the week. 

But you can’t, because you’ve got that lab report to work on and a final to study for.

You blink a few times, trying to bring your laptop back in focus, and then you go back to work. You spend another thirty minutes fixing the tables, not caring that the titles clearly could be better. Nabi said she’d go over everything you’ve done, and you know she’s much better with titles anyway.

You’re lucky she’s your lab partner. 

“Are you hungry?” Yoongi asks all of a sudden, and you startle, looking up at him.

Right in time, your stomach grumbles, and you let out a small laugh. “Yeah, a little.”

“Want to order burritos?” Yoongi suggests.

You nod enthusiastically, and he chuckles, picking up his phone. The smile that was on his lips dies almost immediately, and he deeply sighs. You furrow your brows questioningly, glancing outside of your study rooms.

Jungkook isn’t working today, yet you find yourself looking for him all the same. 

“What’s wrong?” you ask Yoongi, pushing Jungkook away from your thoughts.

Even though every thought of him makes you warm inside, giddy like a teenager with a crush.

“Hobi,” Yoongi simply replies.

You purse your lips, picking up your water bottle to take a long sip as you search for something to say. You settle on, “You guys talked after the party?”

Yoongi nods. “Yeah.” He pauses, sighing deeply again before handing you his phone. “Just choose which burrito you want.”

You grab his phone, quickly choosing what you want to eat as he remains silent, typing away on his laptop. You’re aware he’s avoiding the question, but you have a feeling he needs to talk. It’s in the way he worries at some dry skin on his bottom lip, an anxious tell you recognize all too well for having it too.

“How did the conversation go?” you ask as he finishes up the order, putting his phone back down on the table.

“It went okay,” he admits, yet he looks defeated. You understand why when he adds, “He told me he doesn’t want to be with me anymore.”

You widen your gaze. “Oh.”

“Yeah.” Yoongi laughs bitterly, slightly shaking his head. “I feel blindsided. We were all happy before the party and now…” He shrugs vaguely, letting out a choked sound that almost passes as a chuckle. “It just came out of nowhere.”

“I’m really sorry…”

He shrugs again. “What can you do? I really just jumped in too fast without realizing that he was reluctant. I was stupid.”

“I don’t think you were stupid,” you say, trying to sound reassuring. “You’ve had feelings for him for a long time, and it felt like you were finally getting something in return. Anyone would have been blindsided.”

“I should have known when he insisted we take it slow and not share a room though,” Yoongi insists. “And though the sex was great there was a lot of stuff he was uncomfortable with. Not that I ever did anything without him wanting to do it but…” He wets his lips, glances your way before setting his gaze on his keyboard again. “I was his first guy.”

“Yeah, he told me,” you admit.

Pink dusts Yoongi’s cheeks, and you can tell he’s embarrassed by the turn of the conversation. So this time you don’t pry, letting him figure out what he wants to say next.

“I think he realized that he’s not into guys all that much,” Yoongi eventually says. “Like… he wanted to try it out and turns out it’s not as nice as he thought it’d be kinda thing, you know?”

You nod. “It sucks that it had to be with you though. You didn’t deserve that.”

Another shrug, like it’s all Yoongi knows to do right now. “Yeah, I guess.” He chuckles, a sad sound that makes you want to get up and hug him, though you know Yoongi’s not big on physical touch. “I don’t know if I should be mad or sad,” he admits a few seconds later.

“You’re allowed to be both.” He cocks an eyebrow as if not convinced. “I’m serious,” you insist. “You like him. Obviously, it’s going to hurt if he decides he doesn’t want to be with a guy. And obviously, you’re allowed to be mad too, because to you it can feel like he was leading you on.”

Yoongi meets your gaze. “Have you ever thought about becoming a therapist?”

His statement surprises you, and you laugh, scrunching up your nose. “No?”

“I think you’d be good,” Yoongi says. He sighs deeply again, picking up his phone. “Food’s on its way.”

You’re technically not allowed to eat at the library, so you end up eating on the steps outside when the food arrives, the fresh evening air welcoming after being stuck in a small, stuffy room for a couple of hours. Yoongi keeps pouring his heart out to you all along, as if he’d been holding everything in for too long, and the dam finally burst.

You’re happy to be there for him. Even though most of it is the same thing as at the party last week, you’re happy he’s comfortable enough to confide in you, and you try to cheer him up. 

“If you want,” you say after a time. “I could try to speak to Hobi. See what he really thinks about this all.”

Yoongi holds your gaze for a few seconds before looking away, his eyes shifting to the cloudy sky. “Nah, I don’t think it’s a good idea,” he says. “I’ll just have to move on.”

You don’t know what to say to that, so you just nod. “Your choice. I’ll be here for you.”

He smiles, sighing. “I know. Thank you.”

On that note you return to your study room and to the lab report awaiting you. Yoongi busies himself with his composition as you work, and you finally finish taking care of the text for the results about half an hour later. Nabi said she’d do the discussion, so you send her the link, asking her to tell you if she wants you to fix anything, and then you close your laptop, folding your arms on top of it.

“Done?” Yoongi says, pushing his headset down so that it rests around his neck.

You nod, dropping your face on your arms. “And I’m dead.”

“When do finals start for you?” he asks.

“Next Tuesday,” you admit.

“Isn’t that early?” Yoongi asks, gaze widened in surprise.

It might be. You only have one then though, and you still have two weeks of classes in your other courses before the rest of your finals. You’ll still take it - it means one less final during the true final week.

You tell so to Yoongi, who admits he doesn’t have finals, instead having projects in three classes. It leads to a conversation where you compare biology to his music major, and another fifteen minutes go by in comfortable silence when the conversation dies of its own volition, as you scroll on your phone and Yoongi keeps on working on his music composition.

You startle when someone knocks on the door of the study room. You glance that way, eyes widening when you notice Jungkook on the other side. Yoongi lets out a small laugh at your expense, and you get up, opening the door for Jungkook. 

“What are you doing here?” you ask as he walks in, two coffees in hands. 

“Thought you might need this,” he says, offering you one.

You take it with an eyebrow cocked quizzically, and then you watch him as he drops in one of the empty chairs at the table. He’s got a backpack with him, and he pulls out a laptop and a notebook from it while you and Yoongi are just stunned silent.

“What are you doing?” you ask again as you sit back in your chair. 

“Figured I’d come study here with you guys,” he explains simply.

You glance at Yoongi, who shrugs.

“Oh?” you let out, settling your gaze back on Jungkook.

“Unless you guys don’t want me to?”

Yoongi saves you by replying, “No, you’re all good man. I was leaving anyway.”

He clearly wasn’t, as you’re the one who finished writing your report and he was still in the middle of his composition, yet he still gets up, closing his laptop and putting it in his backpack.

“Text me if there’s anything,” you tell him as he’s sliding one of the straps of his backpack on his shoulder.

His Adam's apple bobs as he swallows, and he nods curtly. “Will do. Thanks for everything.”

You offer him a small smile, and then he’s walking out, not once looking back. 

“Did you really have to come here?” you ask Jungkook, and it sounds far more accusing than you meant it to be.

“What?” he lets out. “Just wanted to see what the hype is all about when it comes to the library.”

You offer him a no-bullshit look. “Were you jealous because I was studying alone with Yoongi?”

Jungkook frowns, a crease appearing between his eyebrows. His lips jut out in the hint of a pout, and something melts inside of you, like it always does when it comes to him.

“He’s the one that left the second I got here,” Jungkook points out.

“Because he’s going through a hard time, dumbass,” you say, punching Jungkook in the shoulder. 

He rubs at the spot, his pout intensifying, if that’s possible. “He still could have stayed, I wouldn’t have minded.”

Jungkook isn’t wrong, and though you really want to be there for Yoongi, you know he’s the kind of person that needs space a lot. Or at least that’s the impression he’s given you in general, and you really hope he didn’t leave because Jungkook showed up.

“I was done though,” you admit, patting your closed laptop. “I was thinking about heading home.”

Jungkook flicks your nose, taking you by surprise, and you sit back in your chair as you shriek. It earns you one of his bunny grins, and you truly are melting like snow in the sun. “Well then you’re going to have to stay with me for a little longer, mmh?”

You tilt your head to the side, though you can’t help the smile that tickles the corners of your lips. “And do what?”

“Study?” he sarcastically lets out. “Do whatever it is that you bio majors do.”

You end up doing so, rereading your notes for your first final. It’s boring, and you don’t think it’s really productive when Jeon Jungkook is sitting next to you, stealing quick glances in your direction. 

You catch him for what feels like the tenth time, and you roll your eyes. “Stop looking at me.”

“Why?”

“Because,” you offer as an explanation. “We should go home.”

He narrows his gaze at you. “Why?”

“People could see us here.” And go and tell Taehyung about it.

“I’ll handle Tae if he gets upset, don’t worry,” Jungkook tries to reassure you, but it does the opposite.

Indeed, a drop of lead forms in your stomach because, what if Taehyung learns?

You don’t want him to know. It’d complicate everything, ruin everything. 

“Besides,” Jungkook adds, “I’ll have to handle him in April anyway.”

You frown, a confused crease streaking across your brow. “Why?”

Jungkook meets your gaze. “I’m going to Paris with Jimin to see your brother at the end of the semester.”

Your heart starts racing in your chest, anxiety flooding your blood. “Oh?”

Jungkook toys with his piercings, scanning your features carefully. “Yeah. It’s been planned for a while.”

“You didn’t tell me.” You’re aware you once again sound accusing, but you can’t help it.

Not when you see the expiration date of your relationship with Jungkook flashing in your mind.

“Sorry,” he apologizes. “I just didn’t think to tell you? I thought I mentioned it when we Facetimed Tae the other day.”

You can’t blame him for not explicitly telling you - the trip has likely been planned for a while, and it’s not like you speak about your brother a lot. Though you mention him once in a while, you’ve both been good at avoiding talking about him. Now that he’s mentioned the Facetime call though, you do recall, and it’s like a hand is squeezing around your heart some more.

“No worries,” you say, and you offer him what you hope is a reassuring smile. “When do you leave?”

“April 29th, I think? I’ll check.”

You nod, and you look away from Jungkook to stare at your laptop instead, though your gaze loses its focus as your brother invades your thoughts. You think about what he’d say - you know he’ll be furious, and he’ll likely kick Jungkook out of your apartment. 

Jungkook will never be able to handle Taehyung. Not when he’s being an overbearing asshole like only he knows to do.

“Peach,” Jungkook says in a small voice that almost sounds whiny. “Why do you look so upset?”

“You can’t handle Tae,” you say. You worry at your bottom lip and then take a deep breath. “It’s really better if he doesn’t know.”

Jungkook remains silent for a few seconds, though he nods his head. “Okay.” He nods again, offering you a tight-lipped smile. “Do you want to head home then?”

“Yeah,” you answer without a beat of silence. “Yeah, I think we should go home.”

Jungkook’s gaze drops to his laptop, and you feel bad. You truly do - he looks defeated, much like Yoongi looked like earlier.

“Can we watch something when we get home though?” you quickly ask.

You can’t help it. You can’t stand the sight of Jungkook upset - it’s just wrong to you.

He immediately brightens, a small curving his lips upwards. “Yeah?” 

You nod. “Yeah, definitely. Should get some cuddles in too.”

His smile widens, and he meets your gaze, the usual mischievous twinkle back in the depths of his eyes. “Sounds like a plan.”

And it really is. You think, you don’t need more with Jungkook. You don’t need the relationship to change, don’t need anyone to know. Because it’s simple right now, and there’s beauty in its simplicity. 

Wednesday, March 27th

“Don’t!” you shriek, but Jungkook ignores you, stealing the TV remote from your hands.

“We’re not watching your reality TV show,” he says as he plops down on the couch into a lying position.

You glare at him, frowning as you fold your arms on your chest. “You like it.”

“Sometimes.” He flashes you a bunny grin that makes you gulp around a sudden lump in your throat. “But right now, I’m in the mood for a movie.”

You look up to the ceiling, searching for salvation yet finding none. “What movie?”

“Just come here,” he says, opening his arms for you.

You can’t resist. His gravity is too strong, and he pulls you in, like he’s the sun and you’re the comet. 

Though you might come from the Kuiper Belt, you know you’re bound to crash into him anyway.

Once you’re nestled in his arms, Jungkook resumes his scrolling on Netflix. 

“What about this?” he asks.

“Extraction?” you say as you eye the movie he stops on. “I’m not in the mood for action.”

“Then a romantic comedy it is.”

You chuckle against him, pecking the mole on his neck. He chooses the movie Always Be My Maybe, and then tightens his grip around you.

“I like that movie,” you say.

“You’ve seen it already?”

You reach for his hand before he’s able to change it. “Yeah, but I don’t mind,” you reassure him. 

He nods, and that’s how you end up watching the movie, slowly dozing off on his chest. You’re in and out of sleep, watching the bright screen whenever you wake up, and when the credits roll in, Jungkook yawns over you.

“Were you sleeping?” you ask, faking offence.

“You were,” Jungkook points out, flicking your nose as you raise your head to look at him. 

You move your face away, resting your head on the couch. “Barely.”

Jungkook cocks an eyebrow, and then you both burst out laughing. 

You like this. You like the intimacy of being with Jungkook in your own home, like that in between these walls you get to call him yours. It’s treacherous, but oh so inebriating, like he’s summer wine you’ve become addicted to.

Instead of watching another movie, Jungkook goes to his room to retrieve his speaker, and he puts a random playlist on while you fetch a rosé bottle from the fridge, where you’ve left it before watching the movie. You’d decided to spend the evening in despite both your friends and his friends asking to hang out, and so you’d gotten a bottle earlier today.

That, and the board game Ticket to Ride, your favourite board game.

“That’s not how it works,” you complain a while later, when you’re one glass in and Jungkook grabs a locomotive and wagon card from the five on the side.

“What?” he lets out.

“If you take a locomotive you can only take one card,” you remind him.

It’s his first time playing, and though the game is fairly simple, you’ve noticed Jungkook has a tendency to try and cheat his way to the win. You’re tempted to let him keep the two cards when he offers you puppy eyes, yet you stand your ground, holding your hand out.

“Give me the wagon back.”

“Take it from me,” he teases, lips stretching in a smirk.

“Oh, you want to play this way?” you reply in the same teasing tone, and Jungkook toys on his piercings.

“Maybe?”

You get up from where you’ve been sitting on the floor, walking to the other side of the coffee table. Jungkook watches you, an apprehensive yet excited look in his eyes, and he laughs the second you drop behind him, hands aiming for his sides.

He leans against you, his large frame almost enough to make you crumple to the floor, and you wrap your arms around him, holding him close.

“Give me the wagon,” you repeat.

“Or what?”

“Or I’m not playing the game anymore.”

He looks over his shoulder at you, a pout on his pink lips. “Okay then, take your wagon back.”

He gives it to you, and you smile victoriously before pecking his cheek. “Thank you.”

You walk back to your side of the table, though you stop halfway, eyes brightening.

“I love this song!” 

Jungkook leans back on his hands, tilting his head to the side as Chasing Cars by Snow Patrol starts playing.

It was your favourite song growing up. You used to listen to a different version of it you’d heard on Grey’s Anatomy, and you’d listen to it whenever you felt sad. Whenever you needed to feel like you weren’t alone in the universe, like someone was waiting for you, somewhere.

And as you look down at Jungkook while the lyrics start, you know someone was waiting all along.

“Sing it for me,” Jungkook says, smiling softly.

You can’t help the blush that creeps on your cheeks. “I don’t know how to sing. But you do!”

He chuckles, yet immediately starts singing as you offer him a hand to pull him up to his feet. He obliges, and he rests his large hands on your waist as you wrap your arms around his neck, holding him close. He sways you to the music as he softly sings, cheeks dusted in pink, and you pull him even closer, resting your head on his chest.

Simple intimacy. That is what you and Jeon Jungkook are made of, and you think, if he’d ask you to lay here, in this moment, you’d lie with him until eternity took you in its hold. Until you’d be nothing more than dust between the stars - remembrance of what was once great. 

But April is looming closer, a giant towering over the both of you, one step away from crushing you under its boot.

“You know,” Jungkook says while the song continues in the background.

“Mmh?” you let out, looking up to meet his gaze.

His eyes are heavy with emotions, and you swim in them, bathe in them. You feel complete, cherished, and you hope he knows you feel the same way.

You hope he knows you’ve been falling in love with him despite the odds.

“I’ve never been like this with anyone before,” he admits, his voice gentle. “I’ve had situationships, I guess, but nothing like us.”

You smile softly, your heart racing in your chest. “Me neither. You’re the first.”

It’s true. Though you’ve sort of dated Sam Hwang for a few weeks during the summer, it was nothing like it is with Jungkook.

Sam Hwang never looked at you the way that Jungkook looks at you.

Jungkook leans forward, resting his forehead against yours as he keeps on swaying you both to the music, the song nearing its last chorus. Your eyes flutter shut from the proximity, and your breaths mingle as you fall silent for a few seconds.

“I love having firsts with you,” he whispers.

You almost reply that you love him. The moment calls for it - the atmosphere is that of romance,  the music is close to your soul, and he… He’s the blood in your veins and the oxygen in your lungs. Yet you can’t say it - you’ve never told anyone you loved them before. And you’re not even sure you truly love him. Yes, you have feelings, but everything is overshadowed by the knowledge that you’re bound to end.

You don’t want to tell him you love him and make it too real only to have him slip from your fingers the second Taehyung learns.

“Me too,” you instead reply. “I love spending time with you.”

It’s as close to the truth as you’ll get, and he allows it, pressing a soft kiss on your lips. It’s slow, patient, like the whole universe will pause for you two. He pulls away when the song ends, bending to grab his phone on the table. 

He restarts the song, and the second his phone is back on the table again, you pull him back in, tiptoeing to kiss him again. He wraps his arm around your waist, holding you tight against him, and you sigh at the pillowy softness of his mouth, at the way his piercings feel just right pressing indents in your lip. His free hand cups your cheek, holding you in place as he deepens the kiss, tilting his head to the side.

His tongue swipes at your bottom lip, almost hesitantly, but you open up for him immediately, tasting the rosé in his mouth as he kisses you deeply, languidly. The kiss never accelerates, yet it’s infinitely passionate.

Much like that first kiss you’d exchange, during the power outage on Valentine’s Day.

You think you knew then - he’d kissed you so softly, like you were fragile, just a flower petal a second from being blown away. Even then, he’d cared for you, and it’d scared you.

But there’s nothing scary about this. There’s nothing scary about the way he gently hikes your shirt up to slide his hand underneath it, his fingers tracing idle patterns on your back, leaving goosebumps in their wake. There’s nothing scary about the way he sighs when you run your hands through his hair, gently tugging at the soft strands. There’s nothing scary about the way he backs you towards the couch, spinning around at the last second so that he can sit down.

There’s nothing scary about him pulling you in, always, so that you straddle his lap, connecting your mouths again a second later. No, it’s only natural. He’s the wind and you the leaves. He’s the sun that shines on you, his moon.

You were always meant to collide after all, and though the aftermath might be terrifying, all you can do right now is enjoy it while it lasts.

Jungkook tentatively grinds up, his arousal evident as he presses against your clothed self. You let out a breathy sound that makes him push his tongue in your mouth, and you suck on it, earning a grunt from him as his hands drop to your hips to drag you on him again. You grab at the hem of his shirt, disconnecting your mouths just long enough to pull the fabric off him, and then you’re kissing him again, crashing your lips on his hard enough that you think you taste blood, though you don’t care.

You just want him. Need him, so viscerally you think you’ll combust.

“Peach,” Jungkook lets out as you move to his neck. 

Unable to resist, you suck a hickey on him, a bright purple mark on the spot where his shoulder connects with his neck. He groans, leaning his head back against the couch to give you better access as you lick at the spot, soothing the sting.

When you straighten, Jungkook meets your gaze, his chest quickly going up and down. You’re just as out of breath as him, and when he reaches for the hem of your shirt, you let him take it off you, leaving you in only your black lace bralette. He looks at your breasts, cupping them in his large hands as he sighs appreciatively.

“Every time it’s like you get more beautiful,” he murmurs, and he looks up at you then, his eyes crinkled at the corners in what you can only call adoration. 

“Kook…”

His hands return to your waist, and he wets his lips, playing with his piercings. You grind against him, and his eyes immediately flutter shut.

“You think we can fuck out here?” you tease, rolling your hips.

“On the couch that your brother bought,” he replies, and there’s something so sinful about the thought that you know you’ll do it.

It’s not like Taehyung is around and will know.

So you bend forward, capturing Jungkook’s mouth in another languid kiss while you unbutton his pants. When the button comes undone, you straighten, standing between his legs so that you can pull the jeans down his legs. You leave the boxers on, eyeing his length as you kneel, hands resting on his thighs.

“Can I suck your dick?” you ask.

He chuckles. “Yes. But please be quick, I want to be buried inside of you.”

You narrow your gaze at him, but let out a laugh despite yourself. 

You focus on his dick again then, on the wet spot at the top where his purple underwear has turned darker. You bend forward, littering small kisses along his shaft, and you tentatively lick at the wet spot, the taste of his precum filling your mouth. And though you’d planned to tease him, to be the brat you know he likes, you give in right away, pulling his boxers down just enough so that you can lick at his slit.

He lets out a breathy sound that has you bite your lip as you look up at him through your lashes. He’s got his head thrown back, eyes closed, and from this angle, all you can see is his sharp jaw.

You pull his boxers down more, and he helps you by raising his ass for a few seconds. His dick springs free, already rock hard, and you immediately grab the base to hold it up as you finish taking off his boxers, letting them tangle around his ankles. You’re quick to lick a long stripe from between his balls up to the tip of his cock, and then you take him in your mouth, hollowing your cheeks around him.

He bucks his hips, fucking up into your mouth, and you moan when he hits the back, your eyes immediately watering. 

He lets you lead after that, hands lost in your hair as you bob your head up and down, working him closer to his high. You love the feel of him in your mouth, love the way he grunts and praises you under his breath, and you think you’d be able to come from just hearing him, pleasuring him. 

It doesn’t get to that though. When Jungkook truly nears his high, he pulls you away from his dick, and you meet his gaze to see his pupils are blown wide, filled with so much lust all you can do is obey when he says, “Go get a condom in my room, mmh?”

You nod, and you get up to walk towards his room, feeling his gaze burning on you as you pass the threshold and head to the night table. You pull a condom out, and you walk back to the living room to find Jungkook jerking himself off, his grip on his dick tight enough you know it has to hurt a little.

“Put it on for me,” he says, and he stops jerking off, holding his dick up for you. 

You sit next to him, pulling the condom out of the tinfoil package, and then you roll it on his dick. He hisses as you do so, but the second it’s on he pushes you back until you’re lying on the couch and he’s hovering over you. 

His hair falls in his eyes, and you quickly push the strands back. He leans in, pressing his lips on yours for a kiss far softer than what you expected, and you smile against him.

He grins when he pulls away, eyes shining with lust and adoration again, and then he’s taking off your pants, taking his sweet time. Kissing every inch of skin revealed, from your inner thigh to a spot below your knee. He stops after that, instead eyeing the wet spot on your underwear, and then he pulls at his piercings, sending you a dark look that makes you go molten.

“I want to fuck you in this,” he says as he finishes taking off your pants, his free hand going to your hip where he traces your underwear. “Want to ruin your panties.”

“Do it,” you challenge him.

He doesn’t need to hear more before he’s returning over you, and his hand pushes your panties to the side so that he can run a finger between your folds, and then circle your clit. You grind your hips, seeking more friction, but Jungkook doesn’t oblige, instead pulling his finger away from your pussy.

“Be patient,” he whispers, and then he kisses you again.

The kiss is feathersoft, gentle, and you lose yourself in the very essence of him. You don’t care - you just want this moment, forever. A scene constantly replaying, away from the atrocity of the world, with your favourite song as the background music.

“Please,” you beg in a soft murmur when he pulls away from your lips, and this time he obliges, returning his hand to your pussy. This time, he pushes in, and you sigh against him as your walls clench around his digit.

“You’re already so wet,” he says, and then he’s kissing you again, his tongue lapping at yours. 

You moan in his mouth, hands lightly scratching his back as he adds a second finger. You can hear squelching sounds between your legs, and you’d be embarrassed if it didn’t feel so good that you can’t form a single coherent thought.

“Fuck,” you curse, and Jungkook chuckles, pecking your cheek.

“You take my fingers so well, peach,” he praises. “Will you take my cock just as well?”

You moan again, and you nod your head yes. “Yeah. Please.”

He smirks, pulling his fingers out of you. You both eye them - they’re covered in your juices, and it’s decadent, sinful.

Even more so when Jungkook puts them in his mouth to clean them thoroughly, drinking in your juices. 

“So sweet,” he whispers after, and then he shifts, straightening between your legs so that he can align his dick with your entrance, your panties still pushed to the side. He meets your gaze, his own dark with lust. “How do you want me tonight?” he asks, rubbing his dick on you slowly.

“Just fuck me, but come near,” you say, pulling on one of his wrists so that he leans over you again. 

He smiles, infinitely soft despite what you’re doing, and then he pushes in, ever so slowly. Inch after inch, Jungkook spears you with his dick until he bottoms out. He stills there, and you wrap your legs around his dainty waist to keep him as close as possible. He obliges, stealing a deep kiss on your lips, and he slowly pulls out before slamming to the hilt again, and you moan in his mouth.

The rhythm he establishes is slow and steady. Deep, in a way that makes you see stars in his gaze. Or maybe that’s just the way the light reflects in his eyes, or the emotions still swirling in the depths of him. You don’t know. All that you know is that you’re falling and falling, with no chance to ever stop now.

You’ve crossed too many lines to ever be able to stop. So you’ll enjoy it while it lasts. Chase all the cars around his head until you can’t anymore, until the last nail is in the coffin and you have to say goodbye to this, to him.

But for now, you enjoy. And you enjoy as best as you can, eyes fluttering shut as he slightly picks up the pace, whispering sweet nothings in your ear. You hold him close, arms and legs tight around him, and you moan as he makes love to you.

At least that’s what this feels like. And you wouldn’t want it any other way. You just want the warm proximity of his body on yours, of his lips kissing your mouth. Jungkook gives you all, and you hope he knows you’re giving all to him in return.

Everything. You’ll give him everything until you have nothing left to give, if he so takes it.

“Fuck, peach,” he whispers. He slows down his rhythm, meets your gaze. “I’m really in love with this pussy of yours.”

You know why he says it that way. Know exactly what he truly means but can’t say, and you take that too, keep it locked up in a safe corner of your heart.

“I know,” you whisper, cupping his cheek, and he rests his forehead on yours again.

“I’ll fuck you like this every day,” he says, and it sounds like a promise.

A promise that maybe you’ll make it past your brother’s return.

“Please do,” you beg, and then you’re kissing again, and he’s pounding into you harder, seeking completion for the both of you.

You come before him. Nails digging in his back while you arch yours, walls pulsing around him. That’s what sends him over the edge, and Jungkook climaxes, his head falling in the crook of your neck as he comes and comes.

He’d paint you white if it wasn’t for the condom, and the thought makes you grind your hips instinctively. He kisses your neck in retaliation, and you moan softly, tilting your head to give him better access.

When you’ve come down from the high, you glance towards the coffee table and your abandoned game of Ticket to Ride. The sight makes you laugh, and you press a soft kiss on the mole on Jungkook’s neck as he asks, “What’s got you laughing?”

“We never finished the game,” you remind him.

He lifts his head just enough to look at the coffee table. “Damn,” he lets out. “I totally forgot about that.”

You can’t blame him. When you’re together, you forget about everything, too - he becomes the center of your universe. And you wouldn’t want it any other way.

“Should we finish it?” you ask.

He meets your gaze, pecks your forehead once. “Shower first?”

You can’t say no to those big doe eyes, so you follow him to the bathroom.

And while he washes your back, you hear the clock ticking, your expiration date looming closer with every second that passes.

Saturday, April 13th

The movie theatre is packed. 

You’re waiting in line for popcorn with Nabi, Namjoon and Ria, while Seokjin, Hoseok and Yoongi go to the bathroom. The hall of the movie theatre is loud, and you’ve been standing in silence with your friends as you wait for your turn, though you’ve been eyeing the menu as you’re trying to decide what to order.

You settle on a medium-sized bag of popcorn to share with Yoongi, and Namjoon and Ria grab different candies and chocolate bars for themselves and your other friends. You’re walking towards your movie room when you notice an all-too recognizable tattooed boy, who stands taller than the group that surrounds him.

His eyes light up when he sees you, and he grins broadly as he waves at you.

Four pairs of eyes turn to look at you - Jimin, Sera, Lisa and Eunwoo - and you smile at them, though your gaze quickly shifts back to Jungkook.

You’d told him you were coming to the movies with your friends before going out for drinks. You’re not surprised he’s decided to pull up - despite everything you’ve told him, he’s jealous of your friendship with Yoongi. Which you reckon is funny - Yoongi is trying to fix things with Hoseok, and all you’ve been doing is offer help to him when he needs it.

You don’t think the relationship is fixable, but you haven’t had the strength to break it to Yoongi yet. Not when they had a moment last week, and he’s been far too happy about it since then.

You walk over to where Jungkook’s standing, your friends in tow. It’s hard to stop yourself from hugging him, but you manage to do it, instead greeting everyone and smiling at Jimin as he asks what movie you’re going to see.  

“Dune 2,” you reply. 

Jimin snorts, saying, “Thought so.”

It sounds ominous, and you slightly furrow your brows, glancing towards Jungkook. He only shrugs his shoulders as he purses his lips.

And that’s how you end up mixing friend groups for the movie. You’re not surprised when Jungkook manages to sit on your left - he’s clearly been scheming for this all along. Yoongi, entirely oblivious, sits on your right.

“I haven’t even seen the first movie,” Yoongi says as he leans towards you. He quickly glances further down the row, where Hoseok sat with Namjoon and Nabi.

Jungkook mirrors Yoongi, and he’s so close you catch a whiff of the detergent he uses to wash his clothes. “It was practically a walking simulator in the desert. Not much to miss.”

Yoongi nods, sitting back in his seat. He offers you a knowing look, and then turns towards Seokjin and Ria on his other side, joining whatever conversation they’re having. You purse your lips, before sliding your gaze back to Jungkook.

“What are you doing here?” you ask through gritted teeth.

“My friends wanted to see the movie,” he says, shrugging his shoulders. “Thought we could go at the same time.”

You look up to the ceiling, though a smile is playing at the corners of your lips. “What a coincidence.”

He grins. “What a coincidence indeed.”

It makes you chuckle, and before you can say anything else, the light of the movie theatre dims, leaving you in only the glow of the screen as it comes to life.

You eat your popcorn as many movie trailers pass on the screen, Yoongi taking some once in a while. The movie starts when you’re halfway done with the bag, and soon you’re lost in the scenes, too focused to eat.

That’s when Jungkook strikes, stealing a handful of popcorn from your bag.

“Hey!” you whisper-shout, and he winks at you as he eats a mouthful of the snack. 

“What?” he whispers back once he’s swallowed.

“That’s mine.”

He flicks your nose, leaning closer to say directly in your ear, “What’s yours is mine, and what’s mine is yours, peach.”

You narrow your gaze. “You haven’t even bought any snacks.”

He shrugs. “I knew I’d steal yours.”

You roll your eyes, slightly shaking your head as you look back towards the screen, and he chuckles softly. Scenes flash in front of your eyes, and you get lost in the action. It might be an hour later, or just a few minutes, when Jungkook pokes your knee, attracting your attention.

You glance at him, but he’s focusing on the screen, his skin looking honey-like in the light. You furrow your brows in question, but when he doesn’t say anything, you shrug, looking back at the screen.

He does it again thirty seconds later, and this time he’s stifling a laugh when you glance at him.

“What do you want?” you whisper as you lean closer to him.

“You,” he replies simply, his eyes darkening as he meets your gaze.

You gulp. “We’re in the middle of a movie theatre with all of our friends.”

“I know,” he says, shrugging. “I’ve just been thinking of how you feel around my…”

You punch his shoulder before he can finish his sentence, and Lisa throws you a look that makes you sit back in your seat, folding your arms on your chest.

“Just focus on the movie, Kook,” you mumble.

He chuckles again, but before he can say anything else, Lisa nudges him. He glances at her, leaning closer when she whispers something you can’t quite hear. 

His whole demeanour changes after that, and he sits back in his chair, a slight pout on his lips. Gone is the playfulness, but you think it’s safer that way. He’s way too obvious when you’re in public, and though Taehyung still hasn’t said a thing, you know it’s bound to explode in your face soon.

Jungkook is leaving for Paris in just a few weeks after all. 

It douses you, and you finish watching the movie with a lump in your throat, one that doesn’t disappear even when you’re at the bar later, your friend group mixing with Jungkook’s far too easily. Of course, Jungkook notices, and he sits next to you, nudging you.

You glance at him, noticing the concern in his eyes.

“Is something wrong?” he asks.

“No,” you lie, but he sees through it immediately.

“Is it your cramps?”

You’re on your period. Obviously, he knows, and he’s been sweet about it, buying you snacks and putting his hands, always warm, on your lower stomach while you cuddle. 

You purse your lips, shaking your head. The concern doesn’t disappear from his features though, and you feel bad. Enough so that you say, “I’m just…”

You trail off as Lisa appears, sitting on the other side of Jungkook with two beers in hand. She gives one to Jungkook, who thanks her quickly before setting his gaze on you again. Yet she lingers, and you find yourself unable to speak, shrugging your shoulders.

“If there’s anything, just let me know,” Jungkook says, and he offers you a small smile that does nothing to tame the worry in his gaze. “I don’t mind heading home earlier.”

You nod once, and the conversation dies as Hoseok appears on the other side of the table, cheeks red with the shots he’s already downed.

“Not drinking tonight?” he asks you.

You shrug. “Not really in the mood.”

Hoseok narrows his gaze in his suspicion. “I’ve never seen you not in the mood to drink.”

You chuckle. “Well, now you have.”

You’re relieved when he lets it go, especially as you sensed Jungkook tensing by your side, an indication that he was going to intervene if Hoseok didn’t drop it. There’s a short silence, during which you notice Hoseok looking at Yoongi where he’s drinking with Namjoon and Seokjin, a few tables over.

You glance at Jungkook, motioning towards Hoseok. Jungkook frowns, not understanding, and you quickly pull out your phone to text him.

[10:37 pm] You: i want to talk to hobi about yoongi but not in front of you guys

Jungkook pulls out his phone to read your message. He doesn’t reply, yet he nods, turning towards Lisa. “Where are Sera and Jimin?”

“Ordering something at the bar,” Lisa replies, entirely unaware. “Why?”

“Want shots?”

Lisa beams under Jungkook’s gaze, and you taste bile in your mouth as they get up and walk away together, Jungkook shooting you a quick glance over his shoulder.

You can complain all you want about Jungkook being jealous of Yoongi, but you’re just as jealous of Lisa after all.

“What’s up with you and Yoongi?” you ask when they’re out of earshot, gaining Hoseok’s attention.

“Man…” he trails off. “I don’t know. I don’t know how I feel.”

“Is that why you’ve decided to switch universities?” 

You’ve been asking yourself that question for weeks, but Hoseok has been good at avoiding you, clearly realizing that you’ve grown closer to Yoongi.

Hoseok widens his gaze, and the blush on his cheeks deepens. “No? I said it’s because I’m following a professor.”

“What professor?” you ask, cocking an eyebrow.

Hoseok shrugs, his eyes dropping to a knot in the wood of the table. “Why do you care?”

“You’re my friend,” you remind him. “No matter the history that we have. I’d be sad to see you go.”

He chuckles, and it’s a lot more bitter than you ever expected to hear him. “Listen, I don’t really want to be questioned. Is Yoongi the one that asked you to ask me this?”

“No,” you say. “Not at all. I’m just worried about you.”

“About me?” he repeats. “I’m all good, Y/n.”

He doesn’t sound convincing at all, so you say, “Just make sure you don’t do something you’ll regret.”

“I already did,” he admits, and his glance towards Yoongi is far too telling. “I’m not into him like that. I don’t even know if I’m into men like that.”

“Have you told him?” 

He shrugs. “Here and there. I think he knows.”

You think so too, as Yoongi had mentioned it when you’d studied together a few weeks ago. 

“Just make sure you’re honest with him, and honest with yourself,” you say after a few beats of silence.

Hoseok purses his lips, nodding once. “Will do.”

The air turns awkward as Hoseok just keeps on staring at the knot in the wood. You feel bad - you used to be a lot closer to him, and in just a few weeks, your relationship shifted. But you think it might be for the better - you can’t imagine how Jungkook would feel if you were close to someone you used to sleep with, considering he’s jealous of a friend you’ve never done anything with.

Not that that would stop you from being friends with someone. Especially not when April 29th is coming soon, and with it, your situationship - you’re not sure you can call it a relationship - will end. 

“Where are you moving?” you ask.

“San Diego,” he replies quickly, and a shy smile appears on his lips, like the thought excites him. “I can’t wait to not have to deal with winter anymore.”

“I can imagine,” you say, chuckling. “Though winter wasn’t too bad this year.”

“If there was an inch of snow then it was bad.” He says it wisely, and this time you laugh as he breaks into a smile.

The conversation is easier after that. Still heavy, because you both know the friendship likely won’t survive the distance, but you still manage to have fun as you speak about classes, about life, and about what he’ll do once he’s in California. Half an hour passes like that, and then you move to the bar, agreeing to grab a single drink.

You settle on an Amaretto Sour, and Ria and Nabi join you at the bar. You end up doing Lychee bombs with them, and then you follow them all back to the table where the rest of your friends are, along with Jimin, Sera and Jungkook.

You’re relieved to see Lisa isn’t there. Not that she’s not nice. She always is, despite her obvious attraction towards Jungkook. And though she clearly senses that something’s happening between you and Jungkook, she’s never said anything, and you respect her for it.

You sit between Nabi and Ria, and Nabi quickly melts against Namjoon next to her. You snort at the sight, turning to say it to Ria, who seems to be in a staring contest with Seokjin across the table.

You don’t really know what’s happening between the two. Ria mentioned that she’s not interested in him, saying he’s just gotten out of a relatively long relationship, and you’re not close enough to Seokjin to know his opinion.

You’re just observant, and you know just how much the air fills with electricity when these two are concerned. Lightning is bound to strike at some point, and you just hope it does so without hurting anyone.

You wonder, is that how the people around you perceive you and Jungkook?

The evening unfolds, calmer than your usual outings - you find yourself going home just a little after midnight. Jungkook’s with you, and he unlocks the door as you slowly walk up the stairs, shooting you a glance.

“You sure everything’s okay?” he asks as you finally reach the top.

You purse your lips, meeting his gaze. The streetlight down the stairs reflects in his gaze, and he looks angelic, innocent like this.

“Yeah, I’m just…” you trail off. “You’re leaving soon.”

His features soften, and he opens the door for you to walk in, following behind you. “I know,” he says once he’s shut the door.

You turn the lights on, meeting his gaze. Unable to help yourself, you cup his cheek, thumb swiping at his skin. “Want to share a bed tonight?” you ask.

As if you haven’t been sharing a bed for weeks already.

“Yes, of course,” he immediately agrees, and he covers your hand with his own, tugging you closer. “If you kiss me first.”

That makes you smile, like only he knows to do, and you tiptoe, pressing your lips on his in a featherlike peck.

“That doesn’t count,” he complains, lips jutting out in a small pout.

“Then kiss me,” you challenge. “Kiss me stupid.”

You don’t need to ask twice - he closes the distance between your mouths, lips ravaging yours, and you lose your hands in his hair.

Later, after you’ve sucked his dick in the shower - you don’t like having sex on your period, but you still wanted to make him feel good - you lie down in your bed, the fairy lights making the atmosphere far gentler than it should be.

It’s treacherous, and you lie with your head on Jungkook’s chest, listening to his steady heartbeat. Chasing Cars is playing on his speaker, and you hold him tighter, putting all of your love in the act. He kisses the top of your head, mouth lingering against you.

“I’m happy you came tonight,” you admit. Indeed, despite the anxiety of Taehyung learning, you like hanging out with Jungkook. Like spending as much time as possible with him right now - the clock is ticking after all, and the sound resembles that of a bomb about to go off.

“Me too,” he whispers. 

You lift your head, meeting his gaze. “Have you talked to Taehyung recently?” 

The question takes him aback, and his eyebrows knit together. “I speak to him almost every day, why?”

Because you’ve been avoiding your brother like the plague. Because you know the second you speak to Taehyung, you’ll blurt out the truth, and you’re not ready to face his reaction yet.

You doubt you’ll ever be ready.

“How is he and the girl doing?” you ask. “Ariane?”

“Good,” Jungkook answers. “They’re pretty much official now.”

Your lips stretch in a thin line, and you rest your head on his chest again. 

You don’t want him to see the jealousy in your gaze.

“Good for him.” It sounds just as flat as you feel - like a tire pierced with a nail, emptied of all air.

Jungkook must feel it too, because his grip around you tightens, like he’s trying to fuse your bodies together. As if it’d save you from the looming heartbreak.

“We’ll figure it out,” Jungkook whispers a while later, when you thought he was asleep. 

You hope he doesn’t take your silence personal - you just don’t think you can figure it out.

Taehyung would never let it happen. So silence is what you offer Jungkook, and you wonder if the beat his heart skips is an indication that he’s breaking, much like you are breaking too.

Sunday, April 28th 

Time goes by fast. Sometimes, you think it’s even faster when you’re trying to hold on to something - like sand slipping through the fingers of a fist held tight, time has been slipping away.

The end is near. 

You’re sitting on Jungkook’s bed, watching him as he packs his suitcase. He’s been lazy, stopping often so that he can kiss you, hold you. He’s been clingy lately, much like you’ve been.

Like you’ve been trying to fit a whole relationship in just a few weeks. 

Jungkook lifts his head from his sock drawer, meeting your gaze. He smiles, but there’s sadness behind his pupils, lurking in the depths of his eyes. You want to take it away, but all you manage to do is smile a weak smile.

“I wonder if they’ll want to go to the Catacombs,” Jungkook says.

He’s been saying random stuff once in a while as he packs, grasping for a conversation you haven’t been able to join in. But you try, you always try, and you know he’s not mad at you for it.

Jungkook could never be mad at you. 

It’s strange how he changed in the last four months. You think back on the Incident, that dreaded Incident you had believed to be the most embarrassing thing in your life. Today, you know it wasn’t. It was the start of something great, something you wish never had an expiration date.

But nothing gold can stay, or so they say.

“I bet they’re creepy,” you answer. “Not sure I’d go if I were you.”

“I assume you’re the kind of person who gets scared while watching horror movies too, huh?” Jungkook teases, and he walks towards you, hands full of socks.

He drops them in the suitcase at your feet as you slightly shake your head, a teasing smirk growing on your lips. You doubt it meets your eyes, but it’s the best you can do.

“Says you, who prefers watching romance over action,” you tease.

Indeed, the first few times you’ve watched movies together, he’s suggested going for action first. But he never once appeared disappointed when you chose a romance movie, instead beaming at you as he nodded enthusiastically. It was adorable, endearing, like everything is when it comes to Jungkook.

You can hardly believe he used to sleep around, used to be the most renowned fuckboy in your college. Nowadays, Jungkook appears more like a hopeless romantic, and it’s easy to figure out why.

As someone who never received love from his family, he’s been craving it his whole life. At least you think so, and you’ve been giving it to him, pouring it to him, by actions rather than words.

“Nothing beats romance,” he declares, and you chuckle as he plops down on the bed next to you.

You turn your head towards him as he lies down, one hand on his chest.

“Is that why you cry in every movie?”

He frowns, a pout adorning his lips. “I don’t.”

You cock an eyebrow, because obviously he does, and you both burst out laughing at the same time. 

No matter how dreaded the circumstances are, the chemistry between you and Jeon Jungkook is undeniable. And as you look at him, you wonder if there’s a universe out there where you’re allowed to be with him. Where older brothers aren’t a thing, and where you get to call him yours, to scream it from the rooftops.

It douses your enthusiasm, and your smile falls as you look away. 

Jungkook sits up, cupping your cheek to force you to look at him again. He scans your features for a few seconds, and you stare at his eyebrow piercing, as if that will keep you from crumbling.

“You know…” he lets out. He sucks on his lower lip piercings, pulling at them so hard you think it has to hurt. “I’ve been thinking.”

“Yeah?”

He nods. “I really want to make us work.”

His simple sentence empties everything in your head, in your soul, until there’s just him left. 

“But how?”

“I’ll speak to Taehyung,” he says, for what has to be the thousandth time. Indeed, you’ve had that conversation before, but you never once agreed. “I’ll speak to him in Paris, and then when I come back this doesn’t have to be over.”

“This?” you repeat.

“Us.”

You sigh, and you look between his eyes. Hope lights his gaze, and you think there has to be a museum out there to exhibit such beauty. 

Jungkook is breathtaking in every way that matters.

“Tae will kill you,” you say, and the hope slowly withers like flowers in the fall. “Try to have a nice trip instead.”

“Then we can talk to him when I come back,” Jungkook suggests. “Together. I can use you as a human shield if he tries to kill me.”

You snort, and the hope reignites in his gaze. “What if it doesn’t work?”

“Then he’ll be mad,” Jungkook simply states. “I don’t want to lose you, peach.”

Fuck. You’re in love, and you’re in love deep.

“You might lose his friendship,” you say, but your resolve is melting away far quicker than you expected. Because he’s offering you a silver lining, a life vest in the storm that’s been raging inside your head for weeks.

“I honestly don’t care,” Jungkook says, but you see it in his eyes: he cares, and he’d be hurt. “I’m sure he’ll get over it.”

You highly doubt so but… what if he does? What if he forgives Jungkook, forgives you?

Then you wouldn’t need to travel to another universe. You’d have this one, and you’d have Jungkook.

Maybe you should try.

“Are you sure?” you ask, voice smaller than the atoms holding your body together.

He nods vehemently. “I am. 100%. I don’t want to lose you when we’ve barely just started.”

“Kook…”

He kisses you then, as if he needs to show you with action instead of words. You end up tangled in his bed, your bodies connected on a level deeper than the physical, yet you wouldn’t dare say it. And he doesn’t either, not even when you inevitably go to bed later that evening. 

You’re nestled in his embrace, a few minutes after he’s turned his LED lights off, when you say, “Kook?”

“Mmh?”

“Don’t talk to Tae in Paris,” you say. “We’ll wait for you to come back. And we’ll talk to him together.”

“Okay,” he whispers. “Okay. If that’s your wish, then I can do it.” He’d said so earlier after all.

You nod. “I think it’s better if it comes from us both instead of just you.”

“Makes sense.” Jungkook kisses your forehead, and a soft smile spreads on your lips. “And peach?”

“Yeah?” you murmur.

“If you miss me too much, feel free to sleep in my bed and wear my clothes, okay?”

“Okay.”

He kisses your forehead again, and despite the words exchanged, you fear it might mean goodbye.

Prev | Chapter 10.5 | Next

☆☆☆☆☆

no but why did I forget how sad this chapter was? Help, they are so afraid to lose each other :') anywayyys what did you guys think about this chapter? Did you like it?? Please let me know:)

All rights reserved to @/oddinary4bts, 2024. Do not copy, repost or translate.

[mawofthemagnetar]

Where Do Humans Come From?

(CW: mentions of birth, violence, and cannibalism!)

Jevin folded his arms.

“And you expect me to believe that? That humans need a whole other person to make more babies? That they DON’T just shed some of their bodies on biomass and let it grow into a child? This is what you’re honestly expecting me to believe?”

He was sitting at a table at one of the bars in Keralis’ base, surrounded on all sides by other Hermits. Cheryl, the pillager bartender, rolled her eyes and poured Jevin a fresh glass of lighter fluid, which he took and sipped. 

“Yes, that’s exactly what we’re saying,” Cleo groaned into their palms, “That’s not how humans make babies.” 

“Okay, so, how DO humans make babies, then? If you’re so smart.” Jevin frowned. 

Keralis stood from his stool and sashayed over. 

“I will explain!” He said proudly, “I know EXACTLY where human babies come from.” 

“Do you, now?” Cleo sighed. 

“Yes, I do.” Keralis nodded. A few of the tendrils poking out of his back gave an errant flick, and he gestured with them and his hands. 

“So first, mama and papa meet, and they cuddle a bit. Then, they fight! The winner gets to carry the babies. And then, inside of the winner, it all happens. Hundreds of little whelps all snap awake. But no! They are tiny! So they fight, yes? All the hundreds of babies all ripping chunks off each other. They all eat each other’s bodies and souls until only one is left- the very strongest one! And then, uh…” 

Keralis scratched his head. 

“I think they punch their way out of the parent. It’s fine, everyone has respawn.” Keralis said proudly, “And THAT is where human babies come from.”

Cleo groaned and facepalmed. 

“That’s the dumbest thing I have ever heard,” she growled. 

“It’s not!” Keralis huffed, “Okay, Cleo, then where do human babies come from, hmmm?”

“They don’t rip each other apart! That’s ridiculous!”  Cleo huffed. 

“Okay. So. Like. Where? Since you apparently know.” Jevin said, slurping at his lighter fluid.

Cleo rolled their eyes. 

“It’s simple,” she said, “There’s a species of small, soulless, human-shaped husks that emerge from the ground. Like plants, you know? They gotta come from somewhere. So let’s take Joe as an example. Joe’s mum and dad wanted a kid, so they went to this field, found a husk they liked the look of, and both bit the husk and infected it with humanity. Perfect baby, ready to go. Then you just…raise it, I guess?” 

Keralis tilted his head. 

“...Inchwesting. And why has Princess not showed me the human garden, then?” 

“Because OBVIOUSLY the humans want to keep it a secret!” Cleo gestured wildly, “If your whole species went to one spot to reproduce, of course you’d want it to be extremely secure! I’m sure it’s a private, human-only server.” 

Keralis nodded, a few of his void-slick tendrils squirming in sympathy. 

“That does make sense.” He agreed, “Okay, maybe it makes more sense than what I was thinking.” 

“All of you are idiots,” Doc declared, stomping over. He had a martini in one hand and a Hawaiian shirt over his lab coat, and his fur was slightly soaked with seawater. 

He waved the empty glass at Cheryl, who rolled her eyes, HRMMPH’ed, and set to mixing him a new one. 

“Okay, smart guy, then where DO Human babies come from?” Jevin huffed. 

“Human babies come from eggs,” Doc said confidently, “I read it in a book. Humans have eggs inside them.” 

Cleo and Keralis shared a look. 

“I don’t think that’s right.” Cleo said, “I mean-” 

“I think Princess would have mentioned,” Keralis said, “I think Princess said it was a special thing, about mammals? And not having eggs?”

“Yeah, Hypno mentioned that too,” Jevin said, “It’s this whole big thing, with humans?”  

“No, they do! I read a book!” Doc insisted, “Anyway. As you know, when you have an egg in you, you reach inside yourself with a hand- it phases through, it’s not painful- and you place it in moss. Damp moss, obviously, to promote proper growth. Now humans don’t have moss on them, but I assume they use stone or wood or something.” 

“Concrete?” Jevin offered. 

“Or concrete. Anyway, the parents tend to the egg, it hatches. Baby.” Doc gestured. 

Cheryl sighed and handed him his martini. 

“Thanks.”

She shook her head, and the four hermits stared at her. 

“Something to add, Cheryl?” Cleo sighed. 

“HRM-HRMPH!” Cheryl snapped, folding her arms. 

The four Hermits frowned. 

“We are NOT idiots!” Jevin huffed. 

Cheryl rolled her eyes and went back to swabbing a glass with a rag. 

“Okay. So. I think…we are all…probably slightly wrong.” Keralis said, opening his comm, “But you know, I think Princess might-”

“Well hey!” xB said, poking his head around the corner, “You rang?” 

Keralis’ face lit up like a sunrise. 

“Princess!” He said eagerly, “Princess, you’re mostly human. Do you know where human babies come from?” 

xB stared at them. 

And he sighed. 

“Man, you’re pullin’ my leg, right? How old are you guys?” 

“We’re not,” Cleo said, “Care to enlighten us, xB?” 

He sighed. 

“Fine. Don’t say I didn’t warn you. Okay, so, when a mummy and a daddy love each other very much…”

“...And that’s where human babies come from.” xB finished. 

He was met with a deafening silence. 

Cleo sipped her glass of blood, and looked around at the other three. 

“Congratulations, xB. THAT is officially the dumbest thing I have ever heard.”  They groaned. 

[leviackermanstoes]

Girl, your stories are so GOOD! I love reading your fics. I just saw you may be taking fics for Jayce or Viktor. Is there any way I could request a Jayce x Viktor x Reader fic where the reader is very naturing, cuddly, and gentle with both of them, but maybe she hides all her stress and struggles cause she deems theirs more important? Like, she always knows when they want coffee, how they each take it, covers them up when the lab is cold or they pass out at the desk, rubs their shoulders when she sees them shrug too much, just very attentive. Yet, she’s not a scientist and thinks that being stressed over literature projects and teaching is ridiculous cause it’s not as difficult or as important (in her mind) as hextech. So she just ignores her needs until these two notice.

I’m so sorry if that is too much! I hope you enjoy the third act when it comes out. Thank you so much for reading this! 🩶

OH ABSOLUTELY I CAN DO THIS. 😭😭 THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING AND LIKING MY STORIES IT MEANS SO MUCH.

--fem reader. Fluff. Small sad. Angst if you squint. Cute throuple time.

--

The laboratory is cold, and the rain that batters piltover decorates the window like glass tears. Your eyes droop tiredly as you watched viktor twist the cogs in the next hextech project and listen to the sound of slow puffs of steam every few minutes that came from brass pipes on the walls.

Jayce is unmoving as he sits at his own desk, sorting through two stacks of papers. You hate it, hate watching them so vulnerable and so tired. Both are so hard-working and loyal to their studies.

"Allow me to help you both," you spoke as you stood up.

Reaching for two soft blue blankets stored in the corner, you walked firstly to jayce and draped the blanket across his shoulders and gave his cheek a soft kiss.

"I can't have my boys going cold now, can I?"

You spoke as you walked to viktor to drape a blanket across his much more lean shoulders, kissing his cheek, too. Viktor looked up at you and smiled tiredly.

"Thank you, my love." it never failed to make your heart flutter hearing viktor call you that, especially when his accent made it so smooth and endearing.

"Are you staying with us tonight?" Jayce spun in his chair, leaning an arm on his knee.

"I um" you cleared your throat.

The truth was, you had things to do. Your own assignments and activities to tend to. But viktor and jayce's eyes were gleaming deep brown in the dim laboratory light and so often you found yourself missing them when they would make you go to bed without them because they were afraid you would pass out after spending so long with them doing work.

"I have no where to be"

Paperwork

Documents

Assignments

Blueprints

Papers

Papers papers pap-

"No," you shook your head. "I have nowhere to be"

You smiled as you walked over to stand by the window, viktor and jayce came to stand on either side of you. The rain still pounded the glass, crystal city and enforcers were hounded the soaking streets each night, like a herd of elephants stampeding with metal boots.

"You need not worry about what's happening down there." Jayce put his hand on your shoulder.

Viktor turned his head to you. "It is not our worry, my love" he spoke ever so softly.

You pressed your lips together into a thin line, as you thought over so much.

"You both must be hungry," you stated.

You stepped away from them both before you walked over to the door. You would make them cups of hot tea and nice warm soup. bread and butter.

"Stop right there, doll" Jayce spoke loudly.

You froze and turned around to see jayce holding up your textbook. You gasped and realised they had indeed caught you.

"When were you going to tell us you had assignments to do?" Jayce asked.

Viktor turned around to face you, his head tilted. You looked at the ground defeated before them, and began to cry.

"I'm so sorry I didn't tell you both. I was so entranced with helping you with your dreams that I forgot about my own, " you frowned and sighed.

The two of them walked over to you and hugged you tightly. If they had known you were in such troubles, they would have chained you to the table and glued a pencil in your hand.

"I love you both so much, and I'm so sorry that kept it from you." .You looked at them with gentle and sorrowful eyes.

"You need not be sorry. But It's time to start taking care of yourself, my love. " viktor held you close to him

You nodded, making them both smile admiringly.

"We love you, pretty girl"

You gave them both soft kisses to their lips and smiled. "You know I'm still going to take care of you both"

They were your boys. And even if you were working every day and night on your own papers, you would find ways to still make sure they had their breakfast lunch and dinner and were always hydrated and healthy. You loved them both dearly and they too loved you too.

"If I find out you aren't focusing on yourself, I'll take back my promise to buy cupcakes" Viktor spoke.

Not only did you gasp. But beside you, the man of progress did too.

[saucyexe]

Imagine:Lab Partner Viktor.

Lab partner Viktor: who is already not delighted about the project but he’s definitely not excited about being paired up and sitting next to somebody he doesn’t even know.

Lab partner Viktor: when you first meet him and exchange numbers for then project proceeds to leave your message asking when you should meet up on read for hours. Only to respond at 2:37 am with, tomorrow.

Lab partner Viktor: who ignores your entry to the study hall and your wave until you are standing right next to him, Hi Viktor I’m happy we were able to work tod-, I think I should do the research and you should do the slides.

Lab partner Viktor: who looks at you so plainly as if he didn’t just basically call you stupid. Where does he find the nerve? Sure he may be top of the class but that doesn’t mean you’re an idiot! You almost wanted to slap him then and there but you kept your cool, deciding it wasn’t even worth it. Sure viktor, that sounds delightful.God he looked so smug.

Lab partner Viktor: who meets up with you several more times, not understanding why you were so interested in every tiny detail about him, you might as well being asking for his diet as well. He shuts you down of course giving short blunt responses

Lab partner Viktor: who can’t understand why his mind is plagued with the thought of you, of your smell, your hair, the swell of your hips as you walked, the arch of your back as you leaned over the table, and the curve of your smile when he said something you thought was funny. His mind was filled with thoughts of you, and his body was filled with reactions to these thoughts.

Lab partner Viktor: who thinks if he just throws himself into the project and ignores your presence, that it will all go away, so he does. He works and works and yet all he can think about is you.

Lab partner Viktor: who decides it’s time to finally own up to it, so he decides to text you and see what you’re doing.

Viktor stared at the phone in his hand, he had proof read the message multiple times; no spelling errors or grammar mistakes, and yet he struggled to press send. His lips held firm in a straight line, he was an inventor who had overcome so much in his life, he could message one pretty girl, so he did. As his finger finally pressed the send button he reread the message, Would you be able to meet up tomorrow? He clicked his phone off and set it down on his nightstand as he played back in bed when his phone started to ring. He picked it up to see it was your contact, he definitely wasn’t expecting you to answer immediately, he picked up the phone and pressed it to his ear,

Hello?, he was meet with a weird clapping noise until he heard a man’s voice

Why are you texting her? Are you her boyfriend or something? The unknown voice said.

No, I’m sorry who is this?

The voice chuckled, I’m the man that’s balls deep in your girl friend right now.

Viktor jaw dropped, balls deep? Were you being? It all made sense, the clapping noise. God, you were being fucked right now.

He heard a shuffling sound as the man spoke up.

Tell him how much you love it. A woman’s voice, you spoke up. I-I love it. A pornographic moan followed after which viktor quickly hung up.

He placed his phone on his bedside table as he tried to relax, his raging boner noticeable under his sheets. God, why did that turn him on so much. You sounded so blissed out he could imagine that your face was probably in the pillows as you arched up. His hand traveled to his pants as he continued to think.

Your lips were probably parted and your face tear stained. Your hair snarled from being tugged on and your ass read from being slapped. He could imagine the way your mewls and moans would get louder as the thrust got deeper and quicker , his strokes getting faster, and faster. Your little pleas the way you would say his name when you cum. He groaned as he imagined the way your body would convulse as your released wrecked through you, his own releases coming causing him to spill onto his hand with your name on his lips.

As he looked down at his cum stained hands his resolve hardened even more, he needed to talk to you tomorrow.

[sweetimpurity]

I Think I'll Keep You 5

a/n: Thank you again for your patience! I hope you guys enjoy and the next chapter is already underway and will come very soon! And some more art and bots coming out as well so look out for that!

w.c.: 10.2k NSFW MINORS DNI

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4

Chapter 5

“...accurate and efficient methods of decoding… further aiding us in understanding… um… complicated genetic codes… pushing preservation and conservation. Uhh… yeah.” Miguel sighs, sitting up in his seat and peering over your arm as you type away on his laptop. Sitting at a table in the middle of the library during tutoring hours. Your fingers typing for him as he speaks what he wants written. He can’t type. Not with his right hand totally out of commission. So he’s come to your open tutoring hours. And now you have a student to work on so you can get paid and he can get help with his work. It’s Saturday and the two of you have been practically connected at the hip for the past two days.

You woke up beside him yesterday afternoon after that late night emergency room run. Lazily, sleepily taking the rest of the day slowly. Walking across campus to get food since all you both ate the whole night was a few pieces of candy. Smiling and talking, shoes splashing in shallow puddles along the concrete. A refreshing feeling having moved on from the mess of the last few weeks. The bubble has popped. That bubble of sex and ignorance that felt so great for the both of you. Sitting in the dining hall, among the hardwood and tall, ancient windows of your old university; looking over the school grounds turned fall shades and the autumn breeze blowing in through the window. Trying to talk about anything that won’t add any more stress or tension. No talk of friends, or family, not even school. Really just talking about whatever comes into your mind. And the conversation is just so easy. It’s different to spend time with him outside of the dorm room. It didn’t happen very often before. A lot of your conversations were pillowtalk. It’s different talking about the other parts of your life that don’t take place right after doing the deed. Miguel is funny. And he’s a good listener when his mind is clear and he’s focused on you. Only you. 

Feels like things are going back to normal. Well not how it was before. A new normal. 

“I think it sounds good… it’s a little awkward in the intro still but we can fix it up later…” You assure him, fixing a few typos and reading it over. The library is nice and quiet as always. You didn’t have any other students come this afternoon so you have time to focus on this and help Miguel since you know he can’t really do it himself right now.

“I don’t know… feels like I’m missing something. I’m gonna include the research but it doesn't feel like enough.” He sighs, leaning his elbows on the table, pushing his frames further up the bridge of his nose and looking over the notes in his hand. His knee is bouncing under the table and you can feel the vibrations of it in your seat. He’s applying to the Alchemax grant program. A huge grant with a long essay to go with it, multiple letters of recommendation and a personal profile piece. Tens of thousands of dollars for his research project. And he’d basically be an intern there. Able to use their facilities and labs to complete the job and create a brand new study of his own. It would start right after graduation and almost definitely lead to a great job at Alchemax Industries. He sighs, leaning back in his seat, draping his arm over the back of your chair. 

“You okay?” You hum, observing his clearly distressed behavior. His knee bouncing, his brow furrowed, the sighs. He looks over at you, in your eyes. Don’t lie. “Yeah I’m fine… just… want to get this right.” 

You nod. Knowing that’s not all there is to it. But accepting it for now. “Well, maybe you should include some of your… personality…traits…” You suggest with a small smile, knowing that it will be like pulling teeth with him, clasping your hands in your lap and looking over at him next to you. 

“Like what. I mean… Tyler knows me. He’s the one that told me to apply.” [Tyler Stone. President and Ceo of Alchemax Industries.] He sighs, pushing his glasses up on his head, his dark curls becoming a little messy with the metal pushed through them, and rubbing the sides of his nose with his fingers. The ache of wearing his glasses for a while when he usually doesn’t like wearing them at all. But he’s worn them more often the past few days. He can see you more clearly now.  

“Yeah but he’s not the only one who’s gonna be working with you or deciding if you get the job or not. You want people to know who you are… know the kind of person you are. More often than not, that’s more important than the research when it comes to something like this. I mean, you’re not just applying for a grant, you’re applying for a job…” You explain kindly. He looks up, in your eyes, his eyes raking over your pretty face. He loves feeling like he can be close to you again. He loves feeling like he knows what’s going on in your head. Or maybe that’s just his need for control seeping in. Like venom in warm blood. Just sitting next to you like this. Even if he hasn’t so much as kissed you since everything went down. It’s only been nearly two weeks but it feels like an eternity. He wants to so badly. But he reminds himself that this is how things are right now. He messed up and he’s getting a second chance. He won’t take your forgiveness for granted. “Yeah, you’re right.” He admits, dropping the graphs and charts on the table.

“Maybe talk about family… inspirations… personal goals. People like that kind of stuff. People also want to know that you can be a part of something bigger than yourself…” You say, fingers brushing over the keys and ready to type what he says. “Uh…” He sighs, running a hand through his hair, trying to pull this out of his brain. He doesn’t really want to talk about his family. Doesn’t want to give them the satisfaction of being considered inspiration. But his upbringing and his parents’ names alone have opened a lot of doors for him in the past. His fingers fidget on the back of your chair, catching a few strands of your hair, playing with it so softly that you don’t even feel it. And he watches the side of your face to make sure you don’t notice, your eyes focused on the computer screen. Curling the strands around his finger and getting lost in touching you. Hanging on desperately to this morsel of touch. Knowing he probably shouldn’t but he just can’t help himself.

“I guess… we could say I grew up watching my parents with their business. But that’s more… financial services. When I was born, OLI was just taking off and now… I’ve watched them build it into what it is today.” He explains. You keep typing, writing it down in the notes to keep it straight. You can hear the sigh in his voice like he hates to be talking about it. You don’t know why. Mostly because he’s never spoken about this before. But if he’s applying for such a big opportunity then it’s important to include.

“OLI, I’ve heard of that, I think…” You look over at him, unsure what that stands for but you know you’ve heard that acronym before, or maybe you’ve seen it somewhere? 

“O’hara Legacy Investments.” He says with a nod and sigh, a level of disdain in his tone. He leans forward, his mind still on this essay. On beefing it up with info that might secure him this grant. Even though he’s confident his connections will get him in. There’s always a chance things might not go his way. He wants to prepare for every possible outcome. He hates to feel out of control. You stop typing. That sounds like investment banking. Like the kind of thing that makes people billionaires. 

“Is that the… that tall building downtown?” You ask, looking over at him and he nods, a blank stare in his eyes as he’s looking down at the research notes. “Your family runs that?”

“Yep.” He sighs, not offering more information so you don’t ask for more.

“Okay sooo… how would that influence your work at Alchemax?” You prompt, trying to veer back on course. You can tell he’s losing steam, you’ve been at this a while. 

“So I guess it’s not really the same as what I would be doing at Alchemax but… Watching how that runs… how many people it takes to keep something running like that. I guess something about leading teams of people working towards a goal…” He keeps thinking out loud and you keep typing, interpreting his words into organized notes and ideas. “So.. maybe about you as a leader? You think you can be a good leader…” 

“Yeah. I think so… and soccer, we could include that too.” He says, perking up and sitting up a bit straighter. Although the topic of soccer does bring his anxiety levels up a bit. Watching you type while playing with a piece of frayed material on his cast. “Yeah, captain of the soccer team, sports is always something they want to hear. If you’re a leader… organizer. And coming from SU especially, they love to see it.” You agree, typing and compiling the thoughts that come to mind. “And to know you can work in a team…” 

Miguel nods. Feeling relieved that you’re able to help him with this. He did all the more technical notes for it over the past few weeks. Organized lots of thoughts and data to start the writing process. Then he broke his fingers and that put a wrench in the process. It’s due next week and without you he’d be screwed. But it works out sort of perfectly, and a little selfishly, that now he’s spending more time with you because of that. “I think also…” 

He starts. You look over, ready to type whatever he suggests. “I’m an older brother too… that’s… I don’t know…” He mumbles. You find yourself smiling. “I feel like… maybe being a leader in that way is different.” 

“It’s very different, yes…” You nod, looking back at the laptop screen, a smile dancing on your lips. “Maybe something about… protecting… looking out for those that are important to me. Or being a good role model I guess…” He sighs. Thinking. About Gabriel. About you. Pretty much the two most important people in his life. I guess I haven’t been a very good role model as of late. 

“Loyalty… role model…” You say and nod. Typing those words in the compilation of notes you’re making in the margins. His knee is still bouncing.

“I also think you’re very passionate…” You say. He looks over at you, the side of your face, watching you type more things in the notes. Trying to create a section of his essay that can portray him as not just another applicant. “I think I’m just generally angry… I don’t really think before I do things…” He scoffs, shaking his head and leaning forward, his arms on the table, his head resting down on his forearms, looking at your pretty face from this angle. You grin and nod, giving him a look. “Yeah but we don’t have to include that… passion works…” 

He laughs through his nose, blinking softly and admiring your face. Watching your pretty eyes, the light of the computer screen reflecting in them, making them especially sparkly. It’s quiet for a moment, just the clicks of keys and fingertips. He thinks, reflecting on all that’s happened in the past few weeks. That thing with Dana keeps coming to mind. That was really a moment of lost control. Is that the passion you’re talking about? That he loses control and can’t get it back until it’s almost too late? He worries about that. Not remembering most of it because he was so angry. It sort of feels like a dream. Especially since he fought with you right after that and then everything went right to shit. 

All he knows is that Dana made it back to his dorm. He knows for a fact nothing happened. He wouldn’t have wanted it anyway because he despises her and she was drunk off her ass. But she did lie on his bed. Her perfume was all over him. And he remembers standing over her and wanting to make her hate him. Just so that she would leave him alone. That’s a level of anger he never wants you to witness, or anyone really for that matter. It scares him a bit now to think of it. All he knows is that if you think he’s loyal, he’ll be loyal as a dog. If you think he’s passionate, he’ll be a raging, burning fire to keep you warm. You think he’s anything, he’ll be that. If you want him to be. 

He fidgets with the fray on his cast. Coming off the blue material. His gaze caught on the little cursive “mine” you wrote. That night in the drug store. When you were both so deliriously tired, sitting in the middle of the floor. Having this on his arm is like a reminder. Or a promise. That maybe you’ll be his or he’ll be yours again. He’ll just have to be patient. His thumb brushes over the word, like making sure the letters won’t fall off, making sure they’re stained into the blue permanently. Do you even remember writing this? He thinks. Or were you so tired it feels like a dream? His bouncing knee still vibrates against your chair. 

“Anything else for today? We did a lot…” You ask, looking over at him. Bringing him out of his thoughts. “No, I think that’s good, thank you… but maybe next week we can finalize things and you can help me edit it?” He asks hopefully. “Yeah definitely, I’ll block out some time for you…” 

He nods, sighing and pulling his glasses off his head. Folding them up in his hand and collecting his papers. You just save the document, debating in your head the words on your tongue. Closing the laptop so he can pack it up in his bag. 

“So… you wanna tell me what’s stressing you out?” You ask, turning in your seat to face him and leaning your elbow on the table, head in your hand. He stops what he’s doing, putting down the stack of notebooks. “You can read my mind…” He smiles. 

“No, you’ve just been bouncing your knee against my chair for the past hour.” You sigh, smiling soft but sympathetic at him. His shoulders slump. “Oh sorry…” He shakes his head, feeling embarrassed for being so obvious, pinching the bridge of his nose in his fingers. 

“It’s okay… Is it the grant? I think your essay will be good enough…” You hum. Noticing all of his distress and not wanting him to be freaking out over something he’s already spent so long working on. “No it’s not… I… I’m really glad you can help me with it. Thank you… I’m just worried about the game tomorrow…” He nods. And it dawns on you. “Ohh…”

“I actually should get going… have a meeting with the coach. Figure out how we’re gonna pull this off…” He sighs, getting up from his seat to gather his things. He’s been wracked with anxiety about the game ever since putting two and two together that he’s out for the next few weeks. It’s against the rules for someone to play with a plaster cast on and he’s nowhere near getting that removed. So the team will have to supplement him. 

“You’re not gonna play are you? You shouldn’t… not with your hand like that.” You insist, watching him get up, pulling on his jacket precariously with his one working hand. He can hear the concern in your voice. “I can’t. It's an instant disqualification… so I have to talk to Coach and maybe I’ll just assistant coach tomorrow, I don’t know…” He sighs, knowing it’ll be a struggle for the team to play without him. And they very well might not win. This is a university proud of its win streak so far. 

“If it hurts, let Coach know… you don’t have to do anything that’s uncomfortable.” You advise softly. Wanting him to be comfortable. Always. That look of care on your face makes him feel a little warm. Making him feel a little soft and fuzzy inside. He can’t remember ever being worried over like that. He clears his throat, trying not to let that feeling get to him too much, shoving his laptop in his bag and zipping it up. “I will… don’t worry about me…” 

He says it but he doesn’t really mean it. Although he doesn't want you to be anxious; he definitely doesn’t need to inflict any more emotional pain on you, he’s done more than enough of that over the past few weeks… he does want you to care. Or it’s more like… once he realized you actually do care, now he doesn’t want to lose that. 

“Just be careful… I know you’ll do well and the team will be fine…” You smile gently. Clicking your pen and watching him getting ready to leave. His bag slung over his shoulder. “Thank you… yeah I just need to chill.” He sighs, moving his hurt hand around absentmindedly to soothe the ache. “Well… the feeling you’re having just means you care. It’s a good feeling, even though it’s scary…” 

He looks in your eyes, down at where you’re still sitting. Feeling struck by your words. You’ve always been so good at that. You always know exactly what to say when he needs to hear it. He hopes to do the same for you one day. If only he can figure out how you manage to do it every time. He just nods in thanks, a renewed sense of relief inside. 

“Dinner later?” He inquires, brow raising as he’s starting to walk away. Walking backwards away from the table, his eyes on you the entire time. 

“Sure, I’ll meet you there…” You rest your head on your hand, watching him go from where you’re sitting. Watching that look on his face. A sort of satisfaction in that he’s leaving but already thinking about when he gets to see you next. He nods. Turning towards the library doors and smiling to himself, making his way out. Sneakers tapping on the hardwood floors of the academic building, sparing you one last glance. Finding your eyes still on him. A stupid sort of giddy feeling in his chest. Lopsided grin on his lips as he leaves the library.

“O’hara! Dude.” Peter’s voice brings him out of his flurry of thoughts. Watching his friend march down the rest of the hall to him. “Where you been? You disappeared again…” Peter chuckles.

“Oh yeah I‘ve just been… busy in the lab and stuff… and my application.” He lies. While it’s true he has been working on his application and piles of homework, he’s also been actively avoiding all of his friends ever since your fight. Unable to handle even the slightest of social interaction. His mind set on you and only you. But he won’t tell Peter that. 

“Dana said you were being crazy or something…” Peter huffs, his brow quirked in disbelief. Miguel’s heart starts to beat a little harder at that. Did Dana tell everyone what happened? Or her version of what happened? “What did she say?”

“Well… she’s kinda implying that you two hooked up after the party last week…” Miguel’s eyes widen at that news. It’s just not true. But that seems to be the story everyone believes so far. “MJ thinks she’s full of shit bu-"

“She is full of shit.” Miguel sighs. Pinching the bridge of his nose. Or trying to with his cast. It was a foolish thing to give into his anger and take Dana back to his dorm. But he didn’t sleep with her. He’s not surprised though that she’s spreading that rumor around. It wouldn’t be the first time. 

“Shit, what happened?!” Peter flips, looking down at the cast engulfing Miguel’s forearm to the tips of his fingers. Looking at the seemingly broken hand, his eyes scanning over Miguel as a whole. Feeling like he has no idea what’s going on with someone who’s supposed to be his closest friend. “I broke my wrist but it’s fine, doctor says it’ll be fine even without surgery.”

“It’s fine?! What about the game?” Peter asks in panic, running a hand through his previously neat light brown locks. It’s against policy rules to play with a hard plaster cast for the safety of the other players and teammates. But Miguel’s the captain, their top offense and shooter. 

“I’ll be on the sidelines and Miller and Durante can take care of it.”

“It’s Princeton, Miguel. We’re gonna get fuckin’ smoked out there…” Peter huffs, going on and on but Miguel just shakes his head, feeling that anxiety rising again. The anxiety you were able to dampen only moments ago. “I know it sucks… I know. But those new drills have been helping… I’m gonna talk to coach.” 

“Alright… but Marco and Santiago need to get their asses in order before tomorrow. I’m not playing defense because they can’t pay attention to the fucking ball.” 

“I know, I know…” Miguel sighs and nods. Knowing this is all bad timing. They’ve been preparing for this game for a while now and it’s a pretty big spectacle. The stands will undoubtedly be full to the brim. It makes him tense and anxious to think about.

“Okay…” Peter huffs, running a hand through his hair. “Well, text me what Coach says…” He sighs, lifting his fist. Their knuckles colliding as he’s starting to walk off to where he’s going. “No more disappearing…” Peter chuckles, looking back as he starts walking down the hall, pointing a finger at his friend. “Yeah, yeah…”

“Alright, I’ll see you later.” Peter says with a nod, his hands in his pockets as he rounds the corner, walking into the library. Miguel sighs, feeling that tension, that tomorrow might not go well and it’ll be all his fault. Because he can’t do more to help the team he’s supposed to be leading.

He jogs down the stairs, down another hallway and outside. The fall breeze and smell of the trees and crisp autumn air flows past his cheeks, blowing back the little curls by his ears. Hunching his shoulders up when the brisk air cools his neck, pulling his collar up and walking across the commons to get to the athletic building on the other side of campus. To meet with Coach about the game plan for tomorrow. 

“Come on guys, one more time!” Miguel calls out to the team. Dressed in his uniform, dark blue and silver stripes, school colors with the Sterling University crest on his arm, a C on his chest. Number 99 on his back. Cleats and his cast to match. It does suck he has to miss out on actually playing but he does a lot of assistant coaching as captain anyway so it’s nothing he’s not used to. Coach Dean is talking with the referees anyway. Schmoozing on the sidelines, convinced it’ll earn them less whistles through the game. 

Miguel sighs, anxious, shaking his head and directing his attention to the mobs of people filling the stands. The sun is setting, the field lights coming on and a slight chill filling the air. A buzz with that too. College soccer fans here as well as lots of students from both universities. People are excited. The team is excited as well as anxious without Miguel playing beside them. Knowing they’ll have to supplement him being out. Miguel huffs, stretching his arms and wincing slightly at the remnants of ache in his wrist, his breath fogging in the cold air.

“Come on… si yeah! ¡Mantén la posesión!" He shouts from the sides, watching the team warming up with the drills and keeping order, following them up and down their half of the field. “Marco!¡Sigue presionando! Call for it!" A mix of Spanish and English naturally leave his lips. Dark eyes follow their form and technique. Keeping everyone in order. They’re doing really well as always. But Miguel would prefer perfection. “Good! Alright break!” He shouts.

The team all relaxes, sighing in relief and collecting on the sidelines near the bench. Some passing the ball back and forth. The goalie is doing some technique in the practice nets with Durante and Miller. Others glancing at the opposing team warming up on their side of the field. “Marco, you’re gonna break you’re fuckin’ ankle doing that. Keep it light, it doesn’t have to be so fast. Slow down and go through the steps, alright?” Miguel instructs calmly, grabbing a ball and demonstrating on the turf by the benches. Marco nods, wiping his brow with the edge of his jersey. 

“Just like that… keep it loose and look at Miller, he’s the one you’re paying attention to. Don’t look at Durante, he’s gonna be looking at Miller for that pass down the field. But that was still good, keep it up..” 

“There’s a lot of people here…” Peter comments, squirting some water into his mouth, catching his breath. Miguel walks over from helping Marco, standing beside his friend and looking out at the people in the stands. It’s a little more than they’re used to. Little intimidating considering this stadium seats thousands of people.

“It’s a big game…” Miguel huffs, grabbing his water bottle. Wish I could fucking play… he thinks. Glancing at Coach, still talking to the refs near the midline. They have a little while before everything starts.

It’s the end of the first half and it’s been a good game so far. Princeton is good but so is Sterling. They’d be better if Miguel was on the field to help them. He finds himself getting frustrated on the sidelines, disagreeing with the refs calls and calling out to his teammates, trying to lead and instruct. The whistle blows and the team finally relaxes. Panting and walking over to the sidelines. 

“They’re fast…” Marco pants, plopping down on the bench to catch his breath. “We have to be faster… but we’re holding our own…” Miguel says, hands on his hips and looking over the team, trying to keep the edge from his tone. He’s here to lead, not berate.

“You good?” He sees Peter covered in grass stains. Peter’s the one that’s been scoring pretty much all the goals so far. Princeton’s defense is good. It’s one of those games where no one’s going to score very many goals, it’s all about making sure the other team doesn’t get too close. “That was really good, keep doing that. And if it works better for Marco to go up the right side, then do that.” Miguel says. 

“I will… they’re so fuckin fast…” Peter pants, grabbing his water bottle and squirting some in his mouth. Breathing heavy through his nose. The team takes a few minutes at halftime to refuel and plan for the second half. Peter and Marco will have to be smart about the next plays. They’re down by two and the other team just keeps getting closer and closer. 

“I got a girl in the stands…” Peter says with a lopsided smile, still out of breath, spraying some more water into his mouth. “Yeah?” Miguel’s brow quirks at that information. He knows Peter has a lot of girls around him and friends that are girls. Makes sense, he’s very smart, an athlete, loud and the life of the party. Everyone always trying to get a piece of him. Not a foreign concept to Miguel himself. Miguel grabs his water bottle too, raising it to his mouth. “Who is she?” 

“Her name’s y/n…” 

What?

“...yeah you should meet her… she’s really pretty and smart and funny...” 

What?

Peter keeps talking, tossing a ball to someone else across the bench. Not even registering the look on Miguel’s face. Like shock and something else. Something Miguel himself can’t put a finger on. And Miguel can only half listen to Peter’s words. “She’s head of the tutoring club… did I tell you I started doing that? Dude, I’m getting paid to do some freshman’s homework and get course credit. It's like the easiest shit in the world…” Peter laughs, talking on and on. 

Miguel doesn’t understand. It’s like his brain can’t process this. Staring at Peter silently and waiting for him to say it’s a joke. But how could it be a joke?

“She’s riiiiight… there-” Peter turns, pointing at the stands. Turning stiffly, Miguel looks out to where he’s pointing. His dark eyes searching the stands and looking for your face. Hoping to see some stranger who happens to have the same name as you. But no. It’s you. 

He watches your gaze snap onto them, seeming surprised to have both their attention now. How did he not notice? You’ve been here this whole time, sitting nearly 15 rows behind him and he didn’t know? But Peter knew?

He can’t help that his immediate reaction to seeing you is relief. Seeing you up there and he just wants to smile. Wants to disappear with you and forget this stressful game. You’re like… his best friend in the whole world. But then that relief is quickly quelled when he realizes Peter is the one who invited you, he’s the reason you’re here. 

Miguel huffs. Nearly getting hit in the face when Peter starts waving at you. Stepping back and trying to make sense of this. There you are, waving back their way. What is this? He wonders. Unable to help the scowl that appears on his face as he observes Peter waving. What is this happening that he doesn’t know about or had no idea could even happen? Another bubble has popped and he didn’t even know it. 

He looks back up at you. Your eyes looking his way. But are you looking at him or are you looking at Peter? He hates that he can’t even tell. He hopes it’s him but it’s too much distance to know for sure. He just holds up a hand weakly. Waving at you. Feeling like an idiot, a total fool. And here Peter is waving at you, thinking Miguel doesn’t even know who you are. Fuck.

“Alright boys! Let’s huddle up!” Coach yells, coming over to the bench and motioning for everyone to come over. Peter moves to head over, gently kicking a ball on his way. And Miguel can’t help but keep glancing at you. Feeling self conscious. You’ve been watching him and witnessing all of this, this entire time? He didn’t even know you were here and half of the game had already been played. And all he’s done is stand on the sidelines while Peter played big shot scorer. 

Your hands wave at him, mouthing something he can’t make out. His brow knitting together as you try to communicate something to him before Coach snaps again. 

“O’hara!” 

His eyes snap to the team huddled by the bench. Taking long strides to get over there. But his mind is a mess. He didn’t even know you knew each other. 

The second half, the rest of the game, it’s hard for Miguel to focus on coaching. He’s watching the team play but it’s like a delayed reaction in his mind. Like his body is here but his brain is trying to tap into some invisible signal stretching from you to him. Peter scores again and Miguel flinches at the sound of the stands erupting. Cheering and echoing through his head. Pounding the sides of his skull.

He can’t help but glance your way every chance he gets. But every time he’s able to spot you in the sea of colors and foreign faces, you’re looking at the ball on the field. Which is always in Peter’s possession. And he can’t focus on anything except what he doesn’t know. What he can’t control. 

…

“Wooooo!” Marco hollers, the team gathering in a huddle on the field and celebrating their close victory. They won, but it was a tough game. Miguel stares almost blankly as the team all slaps hands and says good game. And by the time he snaps out of it, turning to find you, the stands are already emptying out and you’re gone from your seat. 

“O’hara!” The team shouts, bringing him out of the mess of thoughts. The players crowding him in celebration on the sidelines. Cheers and loud voices. Talking about moments in the game, highlights, certain techniques that had Princeton on their toes. All in all it was an exciting match and Peter was definitely the savior, scoring more goals than anyone and making the game. And Peter is all smiles. 

The team heads back to the locker room. Showering and warming down from the game. Miguel stands at his locker. His new locker since the punched in door wouldn’t close properly on his old one. Pulling off his jersey carefully with one hand and hanging it up. Wiping down his broad chest with a towel and hearing Peter with some of the boys walking in from the showers. His movements slow, brow furrowing, grabbing his change of clothes and pulling a tank top on, the black material bunching down his toned abdomen against his deep skin. Listening to Peter’s voice. 

His mind races. Since when did you two become such good friends? And why wouldn’t I know you were coming to the game when I saw you all day yesterday? Does Peter know that? Does Peter know we spend countless hours together? Does Peter know we have this deep connection that I’m actually working really hard to repair? He ought to. 

He listens to Peter’s conversation, as if waiting for him to say your name to confirm he’s talking about you. But he can’t make it out all the way. Something about a party, something about his car, something about the game. He watches the rest of the guys leave the locker room. Peter walks by with the guys and he just subtly, silently glares as they pass, not noticing him. pulling his hoodie on and shutting his locker gently. Pulling his phone off the charger and slinging his sports bag over his shoulder, walking out. 

He slumps down the concrete steps, the hallway leading to the exit doors, opening out to the athletic parking lot. Raking a hand through his hair, his mind a mess. He’s not used to feeling so beaten down after a game. They won, he should be happy. He should be glad. But he just feels indifferent. Or he just really needs to see you. 

When the door swings from someone else leaving, he catches a glimpse of you through the opening. The bright lights from outside assault his eyes as the door swings again. Seeing you for just a moment. Just a split second. Talking with Peter against the fence. He stops. What is he walking into? What’s about to change? You’re gonna be there right when he goes through that door. He stands in the dim concrete tunnel, feeling his heart race. He doesn’t like this feeling. This is the loss of control.

“Miguel!” Peter smiles, making you turn to look back. And there he is, walking out the door. You want to just run into his arms and tell him how great he was. Even though he didn't get to play he still coached very well and played his part in the victory. But Peter is talkative and gets in there before you can. And you don't really want to interrupt when he's talking with his friends. Since this is the first time you've been around his friends with him. 

“We’re gonna get drinks, you have to come” Peter says, ushering Miguel over to where you’re standing. “This is y/n… y/n this is Miguel” 

“Yeah we know each other.” Miguel says immediately. Not a hint of a smile on his face. He’s annoyed with Peter. Annoyed that it’s not a known thing. He wants it to be known that you two are an item. Or… that there’s something going on… he’s not even sure of at the moment. At least that Peter should know to back off. “Oh cool, so drinks?” 

Miguel’s a little astonished with how easily Peter just brushed that off. Eyes flicking between you two and hoping to god you don’t accept the drink invite. But he bites his tongue. Friends. Really good… friends. 

“Uh… I don’t know, I’m kinda tired…” You sigh. Part of you not wanting to go since it’s not your normal scene but a bigger part needing to go so you can feel like you’re really one of Miguel’s friends. Not someone he has to hide. That you can get along with them and be a part of his life. That’s all you want to prove to him. 

“Come on… please?” Peter pouts. And Miguel wants to scream. Trying to tell you with his eyes that he doesn’t want to do this. Not right now. Maybe later when he’s had time to mentally prepare himself. It doesn’t help that you look adorable right now. In your Sterling Uni hoodie with a scarf to keep warm. He doesn’t want to do this. He’d rather just go to dinner. Like always. Talk for hours and maybe even fall asleep talking in your dorm like always. Not this. Please not this. 

His eyes burning a hole right through you, trying to communicate it without using the words since he can’t right now, not with Peter standing right there. Part of him wants you to come and show you off. The other part of him wants you all to himself, not wanting to share you with anyone. But he’s trying to be better. Trying to control himself rather than try to control everything else around him. 

“It would be fun, right Miguel?” Peter asks, bringing him out of his thoughts. He wants to say no. Wants to say fuck no and disappear, taking you with him. But he can’t do that now. So he just nods stiffly, forcing a smile. Almost painfully. “Yeah… come…” 

Your eyes light up and Miguel knows he’s done for. “Oh great!” You smile and Peter is instantly excited too. Talking about how great it’s going to be and how many people will be there. Miguel’s heart is pounding, seeing how easily Peter was able to get you to come. How Peter is smiling and looking at you. A sense of dread filling his chest.

It’s the usual bar. The college bar around the corner from campus where the sports teams usually congregate after a game. Or the general student body on a Friday night. Loud music and conversation, the place is packed. Football and UFC playing on the multitude of TVs hanging in the place. The team filters in all acting like they own this place. Playing pool and getting drinks, talking to girls in corners and at the bar. It’s a crazy night at least for you. Miguel’s seen nights like this before, but this time you’re here. And he won’t let you out of his sight. Even as people talk to him, trying to strike up conversation and catch up. Since everyone knows who he is and knows his name. He still keeps his attention focused on you. He doesn’t care about anyone else in this bar tonight. 

Drinks flow the second everyone is in there, laughter and loud voices, trying to be heard over the music. Miguel keeps his arm barred at your side to help get you through the density of people. Like a shield to make sure no one bumps into you. Not wanting you to be too claustrophobic or crowded. Staying nearby until you find two seats at the bar miraculously. As you sit down, Miguel quickly scans the room. Looking for one face in particular. No sign of Dana and he can relax a tiny bit. Sliding into his stool seat beside you. 

He sits down, watching how you observe the place, looking a little out of your element here. It’s clear you’re not a party girl. You’re a smart, intelligent tutor and it shows. It would almost be comical if Miguel didn’t have a fierce determination to protect you in this place. 

He leans over, getting closer to your ear to be heard over the noise. The smell of your shampoo mixed with your perfume, so close and familiar, filling his senses and almost making him dizzy. His mind flashing with moments of you in his bed. Your body under his and his face buried in your soft sweet smelling hair. He’s the only one in this bar that knows what you sound like when you come.

“Drink… Do you want a drink?” He asks, trying to be heard over the noise, his cheek brushing against yours. Pulling back to hear your response. “Yeah! Whatever is fine…” You smile, trying to speak over the chaos of people and stimulation. A bit out of your element but doing fine. Excited to be here with him and feel like you’re fitting into his world. 

He gets the bartender's attention, ordering you just a beer in a bottle. He doesn’t know if you’d want anything fruity, not that this crappy bar would have anything that good anyway. He’s never drunk with you before. He slides it over to you, watching you take a gulp and smile. You’re so out of your element here. He sighs. A swell in his chest. 

Even though he would normally be drinking a couple beers himself, he just has water in front of him. He wants to stay relatively sober. Enough to keep watch over you and make sure no one else talks to you. “Oh, I thought you were gonna get the same thing…” You chuckle, leaning your elbows on the bar and watching him sipping his water from a plastic cup. 

“Someone needs to be responsible for all these people right?” He chuckles. As captain of the team he actually does feel that responsibility. To keep people in line since he knows they’ll listen to him. “And I need to be sober if I’m carrying you out of this place drunk off your ass…” He jokes, teasing you. 

“I’m not getting drunk tonight, no way. No thank you…” You sigh, shaking your head. Looking down at the label on the bottle in your hand. Then your eyes dart around the crowded room a few times. He just looks at your face. You’re so pretty. Especially pretty in this low light. 

“Well how is the beer at least? I know it’s not something sweet but it’s probably the best thing they have here.” He huffs, keeping his eyes on you, studying you. He’d love to just be all over you and show people that you’re his. But you’re not right now. You’re his friend and that’s the boundary you both set. He’s trying his best to uphold that after his mistakes. “It’s fine… I don’t ever drink much anyway so I’m not picky…” 

He nods. Learning more about you all the time. The two of you have never been out to a bar or club before so this is all brand new. He can see how you’re a little nervous in this place. It’s not your usual hangout spot and he can tell. “Yeah, this place is pretty chaotic tonight…” He comments, looking around then back at you. “You’re okay though, right?” 

“Yeah I’m fine…” You smile. Clasping your hands in your lap. He’s attentive, more recently than ever. It’s true that he’s become like your best friend over the last month and a half. Even though it hasn’t been that long, it’s felt like a lifetime. And with how much time you spend together, it still feels like he separates you from a lot of the other parts of his life. Friends, family, everything else. You spot Peter across the way standing with some people. The only other person you even know in this place. 

Miguel follows your gaze over towards where Peter is and he can't help but wonder why you're looking at Peter or what you're thinking. He looks at the group of people around him, recognizing teammates and classmates, but notices Peter in particular.He tries to remain cool, looking back at you. "He's a great friend… isn't he… "

He says it with a little bit of annoyance in his voice, thinking about how you two have gotten really close as friends and he didn't even know it.

"Yeah he's really sweet," You smile, not really noticing his expression. You want Miguel to know that you can get along with his friends too and you can be a part of his life. "He's funny…"

His brow twitches just a bit. He doesn't know how to feel about the fact that you two are friends in and out of the tutoring club. And that you’re calling him sweet. And funny. He knows how charismatic and charming Peter is, knowing he could get any girl he wants. "He always gets the girls…  he's quite the flirt…" He mumbles.

"Oh really?" You smile and scrunch your nose up, looking back at Peter and seeing that yes, there are many girls around him right now. And he must be very popular with the girls, you think. You hadn't really noticed that Peter was a flirt but you think he's charming. Maybe you're just so focused on being his friend to prove to Miguel you can be part of his friend group.

Miguel can feel his patience slipping. How you seem so oblivious to the fact that Peter is a huge flirt and that Peter was flirting with you earlier when he invited you to the bar. But he's been Peter's friend for years, of course he knows the girls flock around him. It just annoys him that you’re completely oblivious to it. He watches you watching Peter across the room, trying not to let it show on his face how frustrated he is.

"How's your hand?" You ask, taking a sip from your bottle. Gesturing towards his cast in his lap. Trying to talk over the noise in the room. The topic change gives him some relief. Grateful to think about something other than the image of Peter taking you home tonight. He lifts his hand, flexing a few fingers. "It's fine. Doesn't really hurt much right now. It's a good reminder to not lose my cool again… "

"Yeah, that locker room hates to see you comin’…" You joke with a smile. Shaking your head. Punched his locker like some guy in a movie.

Miguel can't help but smile, knowing you’re referring to him punching the front of his locker like a crazy person. He sighs, knowing it was stupid and a loss of control. "That locker had it coming though…"

You laugh at his words, his eyes lighting up watching your head throw back a bit. The fluttering sound of your laughter carrying slightly over the noise in the room and hitting his ears. He wants to make you laugh like that all the time. Make you smile like this every day. And  Peter works his way through the room over to the bar. 

"There you guys are! I thought I lost you…" Peter's face lights up when he gets closer, excited to see his best friend and you, the pretty tutor. He stands behind both your chairs putting his hands on the backs of them. Miguel’s eyes flick back-and-forth between you two. You're still oblivious. Smiling at Peter like you don't know what he's doing. Every instinct inside of him telling him to make Peter back off. But he's trying to be better for you. Trying not to lose control or act impulsive. 

"Spending the night bragging, are you?" You smile and tease Peter lightly. Leaning over the back of your chair. He did score a lot of the winning goals tonight. Peter laughs and loves any attention from you. Miguel can only listen and watch this interaction between the two of you. It's like a nightmare come to life. And he's feeling claustrophobic in this crowded place with all these people. He just wants to take your hand and go back to campus, go back to your dorm, go back to the library.

"Well you all played very well…" You hum. Looking between the two boys. You can't help but notice Miguel’s body language. Thinking he must just be upset that he didn't get to play because of his cast. But he did very well on the sidelines. 

"Peter here was especially on his game today. Princeton is tough…" Miguel says with tension in his tone, finally joining in on the conversation. His eyes flicking between the two of you but landing on you mostly. Watching your reaction to Peter's words.

"It's all in the foot work really. Reading the opponent… Gotta think about 10 steps ahead." Peter says with a grin, in his element. Miguel has to stop himself from rolling his eyes. As much as he loves Peter, he wants him to fuck off right now.

You giggle softly at Peter's joke and his obvious love for attention. Loving the way you can so casually hang out with Miguel and his friends for the first time ever. Miguel clenches his jaw, sipping his water and trying to keep his cool. You take a sip of your beer finding it's the last one, putting the empty bottle back on the bar. It seems both boys take notice. 

"Can I get you another? "Peter asks, His eyes lighting up.

“Um…" You're thinking. You don't really do this that often and you're finally getting to hang out with Miguel and his friends. What the hell… "Sure!"

Peter flashes that charming smile at you and Miguel can feel his control slipping again. Now he's buying you drinks? 

"I got it." Miguel suddenly says, waving to the bartender for another round. If anyone's getting you drunk tonight, it's gonna be him. So he can make sure you're okay. “Okayyy…” Peter huffs softly, raising his brow at Miguel’s rivalry. But Miguel doesn’t care. Grabbing the fresh cold beer bottle and sliding it over the bar in front of you. Looking back up at Peter, a stern expression on his face. 

Over the next hour and your next two beers, Peter just won’t go away. He’s practically hanging on your chair, talking to you about whatever. And because you’re so nice and sweet you just keep giving into him. Smiling at Miguel too like you want him to be in on the conversation. But it just makes him feel worse somehow. Is he really losing you to Parker? Is that how this is gonna go? 

“So… you guys are like best friends?” You ask, your words slightly slurred, cheeks pink and flushed. You’re tipsy and Miguel’s watching you like a hawk. Your beer shined lips as you smile up at Peter. So damn cute and pretty. “We are… best friends…” Peter says in a cocky way. Grabbing Miguel’s shoulder and shaking it a few times, a beer in his other hand. Miguel might be the only sober one in this place and it’s getting annoying. 

He fidgets with the same fray on his cast, pulling on it and pulling on it. Watching you talk to Peter. Forcing a smile when you look his way. It’s getting unbearable. Eyes flicking around the crowded room and just wanting to get out of here. 

“One more round?” Peter asks and Miguel groans internally. You’re both drunk, everybody is drunk and he just wants to get you back somewhere it’s safer. Peter gets to chatting loudly with some other people down the bar.

“Do you wanna leave?” You lean over, getting closer to Miguel, right up to his face and he just gives you a soft look. Admiring your pretty flushed features. He can see you’ve been having fun. “No, I’m good, we can stay if you want…” He hums gently. 

“Don’t lie, Mig…” You whisper, barely loud enough for him to hear over the noise. And his brow knits together, hearing the nickname, your soft warm voice, wanting to reach out and brush your hair back, kiss your pretty pink lips. Anything. “I’m a little tired…” He admits. And even in your tipsy state, you know it’s time to go. 

“Let’s go then… it’s too loud…” You sigh, a distracted Peter now talking loudly with Marco and Miller down the bar. Relief, Miguel thinks. He does really want to make sure you get back to your dorm okay. 

…

“Wai-I ‘ave a question…” You slur, hanging onto him and pressed up against his chest as he’s trying to get you over to bed. His big strong arms around you and it feels so good, feels so right. What you’ve been missing all this time and now it just feels like everything is perfect and everything is good and… and your tongue still tastes like beer and… and he smells so good. 

“Yeah, what's your question?” He asks so soft and gently. His voice is like smooth melted butter mixed with sweet brown sugar. Bringing you over to your bed and sitting you down on the edge. Making sure you don’t topple over. “Hold still, I’m gonna take your shoes off…” 

“D’you think… that… um…” You sigh, the alcohol clouding everything making you instantly forget what you were about to ask him. But the thought is mixing around your brain just waiting to come out. After all, it’s all you were thinking about all night. “M-my shoe is stuck”

“I know, I’m trying to get it off…” He sighs, unable to stop the smile when he hears your little whine. You are pretty cute like this and he likes helping you. Kneeling down in front of you and taking your shoe onto his knee to undo the laces, slipping it off.

“Do you think that… all your friends… that they like-like it?” You sigh, wiggling your toes in your socks as he slides your shoe off. His hands on your calves, absentmindedly caressing up and down, having you in his hands like this is too good to pass up, but he looks up at you at your question. His brow furrowing, wondering what you mean. “Do they like what,-?” He almost called you baby right there. But stopped himself. Maybe it’s just being like this with you right now. Being close and finally being needy for his help, needing him in any way. Or the way you seem so soft and fragile right now he just wants to protect you. 

“That they like me…” You sigh. Pushing a hand through your hair and he pulls your other shoe off, your feet freeing and legs dangling off the side of the bed. 

He looks up at you, piecing together your broken sentence. Do his friends like you? Peter? 

“Like P-peter… does Peter like me?” You ask and his expression goes serious. Swallowing thickly and setting your shoes to the side. He knows the answer. He knows that Peter obviously has a thing for you. It’s becoming more clear you have a thing for him too. 

Miguel straightens back up, standing over you and listening to your drunken rambling. Your mumbles. “Cuz I think Peter is really nice and I think you and I can be friends… and I can be friends with your friends too…” 

He doesn’t understand what you mean. Towering over you and feeling so blocked up. Like he’s miles away from where he wants to be with you. He wants you to want him. Not think about Peter. 

“Uh… I think Peter likes you, yeah…” He mumbles. Looking down at your face. The way it lights up and his heart falls. “Really? So we can all be friends?” 

His heart hurts, looking in your eyes. So confused, not knowing what to think. But wishing he could just kiss you right now and make your thoughts stop. Or to fill your thoughts with him. If he kissed you right now would you forget Peter ever existed? If he kissed you right now, if he laid you down and pumped into you until you were a crying trembling moaning mess like all those times before, would you forget Peter and think about him again? 

“I’m sweating…” You huff, moving to get up off the bed and his arms come to steady you. “Woah woah slow down, sweetheart…” The words ooze off his lips. His hands guide you before you reassure him you can walk. He huffs, watching you walk over to your closet. He sits down on the edge of your bed, head in his hands. Feeling pathetic and so lost. Not even knowing what to do at this point. Has he actually lost you for good? Will he actually only ever be your friend now?

You’re sweating, pulling at the material of your hoodie and ripping it off over your head. Slipping your pants off and sighing in relief. Standing in your panties and bra by the dresser and looking for some comfy clothes. Your mind filled with the thoughts of being Miguel’s again. You’re friends with his friends like any girlfriend would be. So what’s stopping him? What’s stopping both of you from just being together again? Since you’ve proven to him, you can fit in. 

“Miguel…” You hum, his head coming out of his hands and looking up at you. Eyes widening seeing you in just your underwear. Gulping thickly. “Yes?” He whispers. Like beckoning to your call. Like a plea for you to just put him out of his misery already. 

You walk over to him, trying to half haphazardly pull on a big t-shirt. His hands unable to stop themselves, coming up to help pull the material down. You’re drunk. You don’t know what you’re doing. This all just makes him feel somehow worse. Your body taunting him, teasing him with everything he needs and no way to get it. 

Your hips slot between his legs, standing between them and getting closer. Fingers clenching into his shirt and smashing your lips against his. His fingers splay out, shock and surprise. His eyes wide and heart seemingly stops. You’re… kissing him… you…

Heavy breath through his nose and his eyes flutter closed. Kissing you back, feeling your eager tongue tasting like alcohol come into his mouth. Letting it swirl against his lips and his tongue. His big hands snaking around you, holding you for the first time like this in so long. You gasp and hum against his lips and a chill goes down his back. He must be dreaming. 

But your hands go to his chest, pushing him back on the bed, and he’s so weak to you. His back hitting the mattress. He wants this so badly. Wants you more than anything in the entire world. You climb on top of him, clambering over his body, sitting on his abdomen and leaning down to kiss him again. 

“Wait-”

He’s silenced by your lips, trying to be dominant and licking into his mouth. You never did that before. That was always him. But right now it’s like you’re hungry for him in the exact same way he was hungry for you all this time. 

“I need you…” You whisper, pulling back from his lips with a smack. His eyes wide and breath heaving. It’s everything he’s ever wanted and yet it’s not right at all. “No baby… you need to go to sleep… you’re drunk…” He whispers, feeling so weak, his hands running up your warm bare thighs, like medicine. His cast is slightly scratchy on your thigh. Finally your body on his, your warmths feeding off of each other. 

“No please… say you want me, please you have to, don’t you want to?” You whine. Leaning over him and kissing his cheek, burying your face in his neck. He’s speechless. Doesn’t know what to say or think. He thought you were done all this time. He thought you were pining after Parker. 

“I want you… I do want you…” He whispers before his mind can even think. His hands falling from your thighs and flat on the bed. It feels wrong to touch you this way. His love for you overshadows his own selfish need. You won’t remember this in the morning. 

You won’t remember this in the morning. 

“I love you…” He whispers. Into your hair. Choking back a lump in his throat. 

“Mm?” You groan, pushing yourself up drunkenly on your hands, your hair dangling into his face under you. 

“Nothing…” He whispers. Swallowing thickly and wrapping his arms around you again. Pulling you to his chest and hugging you. Keeping you there, knowing you’ll pass out in a few minutes anyway and he can tuck you into bed safe and sound. 

To be continued…

Reblogs and comments very much appreciated!! Let me know what you think or your theories!

Taglist (thank you my sweets 🍬) :

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[sweet-hedonist]

Lessons in Restraint

Viktor x fem! reader

After losing a bet to your partner, you end up having to deal with the consequences of your actions, no matter how much you beg.

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, dom/sub dynamics, bondage

A/N: wrote this in a fugue state at 4am and finished it on public transit, I’m a god of creation lol. Not proofread at all but I like it. This is so horny and debauched have fun. Reblogs and comments make my day (I read every single one)

“You know, it’s incredibly satisfying to see you like this after talking such a big game.” His voice is lilting and thick and like a haunting melody that weaves its way into your brain and doesn’t leave, no matter how hard you try to expel it.

The smirk is audible and as you stare up at this man from your place on the floor, rage bubbles deep within you, flavoring the already cultivated desire that has been driving your instincts.

A bet. A stupid, idiotic, ridiculous bet was all it took to end up here: naked, bound, and kneeling before Viktor as if he were your king.

The bet had been simple.

“You have no self control.” He’d mocked you one late night in the lab as you lay draped over him on the small beat to hell couch they’d brought in for you. Basking in the post-sex glow, you laughed airily, your mind still a bit foggy and blissed out.

“Neither do you. Can you blame me? I’m a girl who knows what she wants.” You punctuated your statement by snuggling further into him.

A chuckle, then “Patience is a virtue. God you’re probably not even able to last a week without needing me.” His hands tracing lazy patterns on your back, sending shivers down your spine.

“Is that a challenge?” Your eyes narrowed at him from your place on his chest.

“Perhaps.”

He’d been right of course. You didn’t last a week without needing him, folding just on the morning of day 6, practically begging him to fuck you, touch you, anything at all.

The smirk that split his face was so vile and hypnotizing that you couldn’t take your eyes off of it. Of course, he obliged and fucked you so good you couldn’t walk for a day.

“You need lessons in restraint, humility. And seeing as you lost the bet…”

Which led you to right now.

Two in the morning.

Completely alone in his lab.

At his mercy.

The soft rope around your wrists and ankles caresses your skin, knots only tightening as you squirm. Wrist to wrist, ankle to ankle, and just for an added kick in the mouth, wrist to ankle. Knees spread and back arched as Viktor sat in his desk chair, which from this angle looked much more like a throne on which an emperor sat.

Alas, it would not be the benevolent kind.

“What, no witty comeback or retort for me? Are you all out of fight? Or are you just learning to mind your tongue?” he leans forward, forehead almost touching yours but not quite. He hasn’t touched you in over an hour. Just lingering stares or fabric or even the occasional breath of air. Nothing else.

“Or…” he leans close to yours ear, “you’re just being quiet to avoid the shame?” White hot fear washes over you. It’s so hot it’s freezing and you want to simultaneously worm away from the sensation and also surrender to it.

“Pity. This is a lesson in humility. Obedience. Discipline. Trust.” His voice softens at the last word and there’s a brief moment where his gaze shifts, full of adoration and love and awe. It doesn’t last long though; enough for you to smile back, and give a quick confirmation that ‘yes you’re ok and want to keep going’.

“Well? Nothing at all?” He sits back up, towering over you and you cannot help but avert your gaze underneath his stare. It pins you to the wall like a pretty butterfly in a shadowbox.

“Unh-unh…” he tuts disapprovingly and it’s all the warning before the end up his cane is tipping your chin back up, allowing you to properly look at him.

“None of that. So rude, absolutely no manners. You should be ashamed of yourself.” He stares down the length of his cane at you, eyes molten and burning as he speaks.

“I…” but there’s nothing you can really say for yourself now. He’s right. As he usually is. You are ashamed.

“No? Not a thing in that pretty little head of yours is there?” He removes his cane from your chin and lets it fall to the floor, hands folding on his lap as he ponders what to do with you.

Eyes rove over your twitching body, no doubt a puddle of wetness below you dripping from your aching core. It’s pathetic and humiliating and some sick fucked up part of you relishes in it. He knows it too, head tilting as he looks down.

“Oh, poor thing. You’re just drenched aren’t you?” the mockery in his voice stirs a frustrated whimper out of you, pulls it from your chest like one would pull a hook from the stomach of fish who’d swallowed it. Bloody and violent and unable to do a damn thing about it.

“Such a pretty sound.” It’s not to you, just musing to himself. You whine again, roll your hips as you stare up at him, hoping he’ll take pity on you. Touch you.

“Viktor…you’re being cruel…” your voice is fucked out and ragged, despite the lack of stimulation. He’s brought you this close with barely anything but his voice and a few lengths of rope. A feat, really. He’ll brag about it for the rest of your life.

“Am I? Or are you just not prepared to accept that your actions have consequences?”

“I just wanna touch you…” you crane your neck up at him, staying rooted to your spot but reaching. He is a planet and you a mere comet pulled into his gravitational field, circling.

He thinks for a moment, you can see the gears working in his head.

“You want to cum?” No one, nor any amount of liquor could get you to admit how earnestly you nodded your head at his words, how desperately. With a quick move you weren’t expecting, he bends forward in his seat and wraps a pale hand around your throat. The sensation is near overwhelming as he hasn’t touched you in an hour, fingers now digging into the delicate column holding up your head.

“I think…” he tilts your head this way and that, ever the scientist, taking in every observation, every bead of sweat, every tremble, “…I have a compromise that will suffice.”

With a bit of a gentler hand, he pulls you forwards by your neck, his own rolling chair moving to meet you as you shuffle forward. He pulls you closer, closer, until his knee is flush with your sternum, and you’re situated directly over his shoe.

Fear washes over you, curls its fingers into your hair, your spine, your stomach.

“You want to cum so bad?” He jerks up his foot at the end of his sentence, bumping it against your clit in a way that has you nearly doubling over and letting out a strangled yelp.

“Go ahead, sweet thing.” Your neck is still in his grip, so you know he can feel the way your pulse races forward like an engine.

“B-but-“ a protest forms in your mouth but it’s squeezed out of you as his hand tightens.

“I’m sorry, but you’re not making the decisions around here. And that wasn’t a request. Do it.” His tone is icy and piercing and it scares you in a way that urges you forward, letting the humiliation continue to worm its way into your synapses.

He lets go, a little roughly, and straightens his back, looking down at you as if you were an amusing pet.

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you shut your eyes briefly and take a deep breath, pushing it out rather forcefully.

The first roll of your hips is torturous. It’s friction you haven’t had in hours, so sensitive and swollen that the leather and lace send fireworks through you.

But it’s something, and you’ve been so patient, so agonizingly horny that you’ll take anything. And he knows that.

And the motherfucker is laughing.

“Oh…wow…I didn’t think you’d actually do it. Just so eager to please and be pleased aren’t you?” A deceptively gentle hand caresses your cheek and you lean into it instinctively, the sweetness juxtaposed to his cruel treatment making your head spin a bit.

“What base creatures we humans are. Willing to throw pride and dignity aside all for a biological need to fuck each other like rabbits. All for the pleasure of climax. Slaves to our hormones; all the blood being sent to your swollen cunt, none left for your brain.” The last bit is a coo, a mocking pity that weighs heavy on your sensation addled mind. His hand on your cheek is a cool balm on your feverish skin, tracing your cheekbone in reverence as the words he spits tear at you.

You move faster, chasing the high that is slowly but surely building in the lowest part of your stomach. It’s a dull burn that exponentially increases in intensity and heat. Every word he says is a stoke to the catching blaze.

A low rumble of appreciation stirs from Viktor’s chest, and the pride that swells in you as you look up at his appraising gaze pushes much of the embarrassment aside. The joy of approval, the delicious praise that a mere look can bestow; you need it like you’ve never needed anything before.

“Oh you are splendid, sweet thing. Such a good girl, so eager to please.” His hand drifts to your open mouth, fingers dancing along the pad of your lip. With no other instruction, you lean forward and take two of his fingers into your mouth, swirling your tongue around the digits in such a lewd manner that the workers of the brothels would blush.

There’s a small intake of breath from your Viktor, a brief slip of composure as he stares at you in awe. His eyes sparkle with want and need and adoration.

“You…are perfect, so wonderful for me.” His other hand cradles your head as his fingers push in deeper, pressing down on your tongue slightly. You double your efforts at his sweet words, spurred on with renewed vigor. For me. Yes. For him, always for him, his, his, his, his.

“Oh you liked that did you? You like when I tell you how good you’re doing for me? How beautiful you look there on your knees, fingers in your mouth, truly you put fine art to shame. You were made for this, perfect, so perfect.” He muses, and the heat in your core grows hotter with every breath he takes to speak. Your poor hips are stuttering, so desperately close to cumming all over his pristine leather shoes. Moans spill forth around his fingers as you lose your grip on sanity, oh but what a sweet descent into madness it is.

“Go on. Go on darling, cum. That’s it, make a mess of yourself, that’s it, good girl, oh…” he marvels at you as you contract into him, the force of your orgasm pulling a strangled scream from your lungs. It’s wave after wave of white hot ecstasy, and your hips undulate a few more times as you ride it out, milking it for every last drop. His hand retracts from your mouth and he holds you, cupping your face in his hands.

“Wonderful darling, you did wonderful, absolutely perfect. So good, so good for me.” Fingers card through your hair, hands guiding your head to rest on his knee. You’re grateful for the support, it’s getting awful hard to keep your head up. The thigh of his good leg is sturdy and strong from baring the brunt of his weight. It’s grounding beneath you.

Slowly but surely, your breathing evens out, his hands petting your hair reverentially, holding you as you come down from your high. You stay like that for a while, until your knees start to hurt and your wrists ache, causing you to whimper at the newly forming pain.

“Are you alright lásko? Can I move you?” He whispers, hands never stopping his movements. You nod against his leg, weak but sure.

“M’good. Just go slow.” Your voice is hoarse and crackly from exhaustion. He bends down, kisses your head, and picks it up off of his thigh. With a twist, he adjust his chair so it’s a bit lower to the ground, closer to you. He reaches around, kissing your shoulder as he does so, and unties the ropes around your wrists and ankles. They fall away, and your arms instinctively reach for him.

“Soon, miláčku. Can you stand?”

“Mhm.” He grips your hands, helping you to your feet, and you’re alright for the most part, just a bit shaky. Viktor reaches for his cane, stands, and leads you by the hand to the couch in the corner of the lab. The leather is cool against your skin as he situates you in the cushions.

“I’ll be right back, just getting you water. Wrap the blanket around you alright?” You nod, his voice your tether to reality. In mere moments he’s back with water in hand, and not long after he’s sitting next to you, pressing you into his good side, arm an anchor over your shoulders. You curl instinctively into him, clutching the blanket around yourself.

“Are you sure you’re ok, sweet thing?”

“I’m sure Viktor.” Your voice has returned to you, as has most of your facilities. The weight of Viktor against you helps immensely.

“Wow.”

“Wow indeed.” He knocks his head against yours, and you laugh, snuggling further into him.

“I can’t say I didn’t know you had it in you, because you’re the most in control person I’ve ever met, but holy shit Vik.” The smell of his cologne and shampoo washes over you as you nestle closer into his neck, so ineffably him.

His cheek is pressed to the top of your head as he says , “I hope that is a positive ‘holy shit’.”

“Oh certainly.” You sit up slightly to look him in the eyes, “Vik. That was amazing. I…you were fantastic. It was everything I could’ve wanted.” A dopey smile spreads across your face and you can see the blush forming on his cheeks, the pride swelling in his chest.

“Thank you for trusting me with you.”

“Vik I trust you with my life.” You kiss his cheek, and he chuckles, a pretty sound that you wish you’d hear more often. But as the months go by, it’s starting to become a bit more familiar.

“And I trust you with mine.”

“Yeah but I just use that leverage to get you to bed at night so you don’t die of sleep deprivation.” He snorts as he pulls you in closer to him.

“Isn’t it common practice for someone in your position to nap after a scene?”

You laugh, but acquiesce and snuggle into him further, “you’re just deflecting, one day I’ll fix your sleep schedule.” But your eyes are already closing and his hands are playing with your hair.

“Sure, lásko. Sleep well. I love you.”

You smile, though you’re already halfway to sleep, “love you too.”

[tkpuke]

23 and jayvik pretty please :3

Jayce + Viktor - 23. “Yes…I mean, no!”

author’s note: okay so the plot for this was heavily inspired by @ticklish-ghost , @home-of-the-squirmle and I’s discussion on one of their posts so why not make it into a fic okay? okay cool

It was nearing midnight, the only light shining into the lab through the curtains was the moon and its luminescent stars scattered around the sky. Viktor perched an elbow on the table, leaning his cheek on his hand while reading a book that could hold answers to have them move forward with their project. They were close, but it seemed like they were met with a dead end. Scientists don’t take those lightly, so they hungrily search for other possibilities and correct their mistakes on what went wrong.

He doesn’t have a clue on his partner’s whereabouts, but he’s not going to waste time searching for him. Usually Viktor takes the extra mile and works on projects a little more than he’s suppose to. He tends to struggle with the definition of teamwork when he’s been mostly alone his entire childhood, so he has no issue working alone while Jayce heads off for other duties or sleeps at a healthy time compared to Viktor’s sleep schedule.

It was peaceful and quiet. Viktor treasures nights like these. Until something was dropped beside him, creating a loud thunk.

“Look what I made.” A voice suddenly spoke out from behind, it belonging to Jayce which made Vitkor nearly jump a foot from his chair. “Jesus Christ—Jaycewhendidyougethere-“ He looked beside him to see what was dropped, picking it up to examine. An iron knife in the perfect size to fit in your pocket, the ends in a twisted pattern to make it look a little stylish. His face doesn’t show it, but Viktor is slightly impressed. There is no interest in him for weapons, but when it’s created so clean and perfected by Jayce himself, he can’t help but be in awe.

He then puts the knife down, finally meeting Jayce’s eyes. “Another tool that will never be used for its purpose.” Clear to say Jayce has made a couple of tools, most having the same theme: sharp and dangerous. He never uses them, as Viktor stated, but Jayce always gives the ‘you never know’ excuse. In reality the man just gets bored out of his mind at times and gets these random surges of creativity to go down and make any toys his heart desires. Who wouldn’t if they had the skill to properly do so?

Viktor’s eyes started to register that Jayce is full on shirtless right in front of him, muscles exposed and pumped to its core from all the wielding. It never really dawned on him how strong of a guy Jayce is, feeling a bit fragile and small the more he compared his own build to him. How easy it could be for Jayce to effortlessly pin him. How he could take away Viktor’s right to squirm by simply sitting on his waist. How he could be picked up with one singular arm by Jayce with zero sweat.

Jayce caught on to his more than five second stare. Viktor noticed.

He took attention to the soot covered all over Jayce’s upper body, taking that as an explanation of his longing stare. “You’re dirty. Here, sit.” Viktor nudged his head over to a nearby chair, heading over to grab a cloth that will soon be damped with water and soap. “Oh, thank you. You really don’t have to.” Jayce chuckles all flustered in appreciation by Viktor’s care, taking the seat anyway. Viktor comes back, starting to dab the cloth on his shoulders while he works his way down. “Hmph, I’ve seen you sleep before in this state. Least I can do is help you get cleaned up.”

“Hey, I get too exhausted sometimes!” Jayce replies defensively, but gives a soft smile at the end. He grabs the knife he created earlier, fingers feeling around it. “You have to admit, this one looks a bit cooler than the others I have made.” Viktor nods in somewhat agreement, now focusing on the upper chest to clean off. “You can keep it, if you want to of course.”

Viktor shakes his head, not meeting Jayce’s eyes while conversing. “There’s no need for me to have it, but thank you for your…kind offer.”

“You’re keeping it.” Jayce responds back with, putting it on top of the open book Vitkor was previously reading so he won’t forget to take it with him. The other only sighs, being aware it’s a losing battle to argue with Jayce when he’s so set on gifting someone something they’ve never asked for. It’s one of the man’s many love languages: giving gifts.

His hand started moving down more, getting near his upper ribs. A quick shift of change in Jayce’s demeanor, beginning to have trouble sitting still like before and biting down his lip hard. Viktor catches on. Of course he did when he begin to rub the cloth against his body more gently, hoping it sent a ticklish shockwave. Revenge was right in front of him from all the times Viktor was ruthlessly, in his opinion, tickled silly by Jayce who never shot down an opening opportunity to do so. Little to Jayce’s knowledge, Viktor has been seeking out opportunities himself to get back. The whole idea of touch is just a subject he awkwardly moves around in, never having someone so playful and lovingly touchy like Jayce in his life.

With the way Jayce was squirming and huffing air out of his nose to suppress the giggles forming in his throat, it fueled newfound confidence in Viktor’s actions. He took it a step further, pretending a spot of soot around Jayce’s ribs was giving him difficulty to rub off, so he pressed his fingers deeper while curling them a little.

Not expecting the firmer touch along with feeling nails through the cloth gliding around his ribs freely, a surprised gasp slips out. Small giggles came right after, instinctively grabbing ahold of Viktor’s wrist. Viktor raises a brow, feigning confusion. “Sorry, does this tickle?”

“Yes…I mean, no!” Jayce got too distracted from the ticklish grazes that the question failed to register on time for him to think of an answer that may save his dignity. Viktor nudges Jayce’s firm grip off of his wrist, and he hesitantly does so. His partner looks up, doing incredibly well on not cracking a smile to foil his true intentions. “Yes? No? Which one is it?”

Jayce finds Viktor’s calmness to a newfound discovery nerve-racking, wishing he could read his mind right then and there. This is the first time Viktor has ever tried to tickle Jayce, but the poor man truly believes it was done on accident. He’s been so use to Viktor taking his ticklish onslaughts like a champ and never immediately attacking back, or even days later. Jayce had his own assumption that Viktor would never live up fully to his playfulness and do so much as tickle him back. The guy doesn’t even complete Jayce’s friendly hugs most of the time by wrapping his own arms around him, just kind of standing there until he pulls away.

So that’s why Jayce is sitting here, staring into Viktor’s questioning eyes, not knowing exactly on how to respond. He decides to lie, feeling like there’s no use in telling the truth if Viktor won’t indulge a little more.

“Um, just a little. Felt weird mostly.” He so badly does a terrible job of convincing. He releases a quiet held back sigh, not knowing if it was out of relief or disappointment when Viktor continued on cleaning after not questioning him a bit more. Viktor created a pattern, dragging the cloth and his fingers across Jayce’s skin that wasn’t ticklish at all. Then in the middle of doing so, he would press more firmly and curl his fingers again just enough for his nails to graze.

Jayce is terrible at holding in his giggles, making weird ‘kcchh!’ noises and sometimes letting a couple out for a few seconds but in a whisper tone as if Viktor isn’t right in front of him to hear them all. “You’re giggling a lot for someone who claims to just be a little ticklish.” Viktor nonchalantly states, placing a hand on top of Jayce’s shoulder to keep him steady. Jayce was about to do another failed attempt of denying until that pattern Viktor was doing met down around his stomach.

Jayce snorts, instantly slapping a hand to cover his mouth in shock as Viktor pauses his movements. His mouth twitches upward for a split second, almost smiling from Jayce’s flushed cheeks. “Oh, so it does tickle.”

“Viktor, wait—“

“You lied to me?”

“Nononono, it’s just that—“

“No need to explain yourself, Jayce. I’ll be careful.” You’d have to be dumb to not practically hear the smile in Viktor’s tone. Both of them, and if anyone else were to be in that room, would very much know that Victor won’t be ‘careful’. Viktor kept up that god forsaken pattern again, but this time letting it tickle Jayce more frequently than it cleaning.

He observed Jayce’s reactions, testing out different areas around his stomach and what brought out a louder reaction than the other. Fingers curling to the middle of his stomach earned him a full boisterous laugh. Nearing his belly button made him receive laughs that shot an octave higher with an occasional whistle coming from the gap of his two front teeth. Cleaning over his belly button made Jayce snort again, a noise Viktor was seeking out for.

Jayce’s rambunctious laugh got Viktor stuck in a trance. How it’s so loud it can be heard from all over Piltover. Jayce’s high pitch snorts coming out only when Viktor tickles somewhere particularly more sensitive. His eyes being closed shut, a random push to Viktor’s face as if it’ll tone down the ticklish sensations. Viktor now understands Jayce completely. He doesn’t want to stop the fun and hearing the flow of his laugh, everything so mesmerizing and ridiculously childish. Viktor could do this all day. 

Two hands grab Viktor’s wrists while a leg kicked out when he dragged the cloth over his belly button again, shaking his head. “Hohold on plehehease!”

Viktor scoffed. “Stop being a baby. I’m not doing anything.” But it was clear as day everything was now being done with purpose. Hands still holding onto Viktor’s wrists, Jayce takes the granted time to catch his breath. “Hehehe…ohohokay, I am one hundred percent sure I’m clean now.”

Viktor tsked, watching him take in air like he ran a marathon. “I think you might be more ticklish than me, Jayce. Isn’t that something?” Jayce abruptly stares at him, peeved. “Ohoho, is that what you think? Let’s put it to the test then.”

Viktor is now the one grabbing at Jayce’s wrists, pushing with all his might out of reach. “No, Jayce! Stop!” Jayce manages to skitter across Viktor’s side, earning him a squeak that he’s terribly embarrassed of. Jayce relishes it.

“What are you, a mouse?” He teases, letting Viktor push his hands away so he can feel like he’s having the upper hand ever so often just to play fair. Viktor stops his attempts of fighting back, shooting a glare but meanwhile grinning. “At least I don’t snort like a pig.”

Viktor just sealed his own coffin shut. “Oh, is that how you want to play?” Jayce gets up from his spot, startling Viktor. He picks him up with ease, showing no effect of Viktor’s shoves and shouts to be put down at once. Jayce lays him down on the couch softly, a location Viktor is all too familiar with by how frequent Jayce pins him down and tickles him mercilessly whenever Viktor, in Jayce’s words, deserves it.

Jayce does not attack right away, taking the time out of pure entertainment to watch him struggle a bit as if by some miracle today is the day Viktor manages to escape Jayce’s evil clutches.

He’s already giggling. “Jahayce, I am telling you now. Do not.” He manages to sit up a bit, hoping to level with Jayce more and seem convincingly threatening when his cold glare meets his eyes.

Jayce’s hands started slowly moving downwards.

“I now know where you’re most ticklish. I promise you, I will not be gentle when my next chance comes if you dare to do this.”

A leap of excitement was felt in Jayce’s heart at those words, causing him to smile and shrug before drilling into Viktor’s hips.

“I can live with that.”

[niklauskzak]

Bayverse donnie being in heat and whining to their s/o that he wants cuddles

(I'm really busy, sorry, this one is incredibly short)

Warning → soft (?)

(all mf here are +18 don't start saying shit in the comments)

Since you two became a couple he informed you about this times of the year were he can get ... a bit funny .

So this time that happened so suddenly... You two were sitting, chilling in his lab as he worked on a new invention, his left leg started moving up and down from time to time, like if he was just trying to get more comfortable in his chair, little did you know that he was just trying to calm the hard tent inside his cargo pants. He didn't want to bother you when you're busy reading a book he gave you last week, a book about turtle anatomy since you have a lot of questions but he didn't have the time to answer right now.

He couldn't help it thou, he stood up and rushed towards you, you almost shit yourself and turned your head to face him "what was that?" It took you some time to figure out why he was whining desperately, pulling at your shirt while he was on his knees "cuddles" was the only word you could catch from his babbling. "You want cuddles?" He simply nodded slowly, hiding his snout in the crock of your neck.

Being in this position for to long might hurt him so you thought about moving to his bedroom.You couldn't help but smile, he looks desperate for some love, the poor boy is always overworking himself in the lab, he surely needs some rest "let's go to bed" you whispered softly.

After the two of you find the nicest position to cuddle you start to draw patterns in his shell while he was shaking a bit, if his shell is that sensitive when he was in heat?... What else could be sensitive in him right now?....

Important ↓

I'm so sorry if it isn't exactly what you wanted, I've been having a lot of work lately and having my brain so busy with adult shit can make the way I write horrible!!! If you want me to do a part 2 of this one and continue the story let me know in the comments ↓ or you can always send a request for part two (hope i could explain myself here)

[steddiealltheway]

(I think I’ve written something like this before but… oh well!)

Steve and Eddie don’t really remember becoming friends.

Sure, they know they must’ve bonded during the Upside Down shit and the aftermath with the series of tests they went through together at Hawkins lab because they didn’t want a repeat of the Will situation.

But they can’t pin point a moment when they started talking to each other as if they weren’t just mutual acquaintances who went through the same hell and shared the same love for Dustin. And the strangest part about it all was that it felt easy.

And here Steve is, sitting in Eddie room, flipping through a magazine he had laying next to his bed, asking question about random things in it just to hear Eddie voice. Plus, he liked all the random information he contained. It kind of reminded him of Dustin, but Eddie was always able to put it into the simplest terms so he could grasp what he was talking about.

But today, Eddie seems somewhat distracted. As if something big is on his mind. And Steve knows that it’s consuming him when he doesn’t answer or acknowledge one of the questions Steve asks about Ozzy.

Steve glances to his right and sees Eddie staring off twirling a silver ring over and over while he chews on his bottom lip. “Eddie,” Steve tries.

Eddie snaps out of it, teeth releasing his bottom lip which is now more plump and red than usual. His hands drop to his thighs as he shoots Steve an apologetic smile. “Sorry, I was off in my own world.”

“What were you think about?”

Eddie shakes his head and leans back against the wall, pulling his hair in front of his face. “Nothing. It’s nothing.”

Steve continues to stare at him, shifting his knee so it presses against Eddie’s. “You can talk to me, you know?”

Eddie nods but doesn’t look at him. He looks far off again.

But Steve respects his wishes and doesn’t press further. He turns back to the magazine and continues reading on.

“I kissed someone in the Hideout bathroom recently,” Eddie says suddenly.

Steve slowly puts the magazine down and turns to him. “Someone?” Steve prompts gently. Eddie had told him before when they were in matching hospital gowns that he had feelings for men in the past and maybe women too. But he wasn’t sure. He confided in Steve that he didn’t see himself ever dating anyone at the time - didn’t think anyone would want to.

“Some guy,” Eddie answers and sighs, dragging his hands over this face. “I don’t know. It was weird because usually guys want more from me, you know? Especially if they’re dragging me off to the bathroom. But…” Eddie trails off, lost in thought again before he turns to Steve and locks eyes with him. “We didn’t do anything. We just kissed a little, and suddenly he told me he’d see me later. Just winked and ran off. But I can’t tell if he just chickened out or if maybe… maybe this is more than that.”

Steve takes a second to process everything, trying to connect the puzzle pieces of this mystery man to come up with an answer, but he knows there’s a bias within him. He wants so badly for the man to want more from Eddie. For him to want to take it slow and ask him out on a date.

But… a small (big) part of him, which he’s unwilling to admit, wants to find that the man chickened out.

Steve does what he always does and takes the feeling and stuffs it down along with all the other feelings he struggles to hide.

He distracts himself by asking, “And what was the kiss before like?” Which is a horrible question when jealously is practically pulsing through his veins.

Eddie shrugs. “I don’t know. I can’t really tell the difference between passion and lust.” He looks down and quietly adds, “I don’t know if I’ve ever had a kiss that wasn’t lustful.”

The statement fills Steve with a deep ache that he wants to file away with everything else. He wants to be detached from this all, but he can’t.

“Why don’t you show me?” Steve asks.

Eddie laughs. “I’m not going to make out with my hand or something.”

“No,” Steve says clearly, and doesn’t back down. “I mean, why don’t you show me.”

Eddie stares at him, the humor disappearing from his face as it’s replaced by disbelief. “You want me to kiss you?”

The question rings true in way too many ways, but Steve just shrugs nonchalantly. “It’ll help me understand the situation more.”

Eddie’s eyebrows furrow for a moment before he licks his lips, eyes searching Steve’s then dipping down to stare at his lips.

Steve wishes he could read that expression. Is there longing there? Curiosity? Boredom? Nothing but unenthused wonder? Lust? Passion?

“Yeah,” Eddie says. “We can do that if you’re okay with that.”

He’s more than okay with that. Steve nods. “Yeah.” He wishes more words would come out, but maybe it’s better this way.

Eddie jostles the bed as he stands up. Steve looks up at him and his outstretched hand, frowning. “What are you doing?”

“Recreating the scene.”

Steve accepts the explanation and lets Eddie pull him up. He follows him out of his room and into the small hallway.

Eddie gestures to the door and says, “So pretend that’s the bathroom door, okay? I’ll be the guy, and you’ll be me.”

Steve nods, heart already pounding in his chest so hard he can hear it in his ears.

Eddie glances at him and lays a gentle hand on his arm. “We don’t have to do this, you know. I can just try to explain it or embarrass myself making out with my hand or a pillow or something.”

Steve smiles and reassures him, “I’m good. As long as you’re good.”

Eddie nods at him once and turns toward the door hesitating before turning back to Steve. “Can I ask you something weird?”

Steve shrugs. “Sure.”

“Can I kiss you before this whole thing? Just as a warm up before I stick my tongue in your mouth.”

Steve laughs and nods. “Yeah. Yeah, that sounds nice.”

“Okay,” Eddie says with a small smile and inches closer to him, hands fidgeting nervously at his side.

Steve grabs them and runs his thumbs over the back of Eddie’s hands, squeezing them gently. He steps forward, hands trailing up his arms, his neck, cupping his face gently. “This okay?” Steve practically whispers.

Eddie nods and takes a step closer, wrapping his arms around Steve’s waist. “Yeah.”

“I’m going to kiss you now, okay?”

“Okay,” Eddie says, leaning forward, eyes fluttering shut.

Steve takes a stabilizing breath before pulling Eddie in, letting his eyes close as his lips brush against Eddie’s, pressing in closer in a gentle kiss before they both pull away.

They stare at each other, eyes wide, not knowing what to say. But Steve’s too scared to say anything when he knows he’s going to sound breathless from a mere peck.

“Ready to recreate the kiss?” Eddie asks, moving away from him and breaking the moment.

All Steve can do is nod and remind himself what this is all about.

Eddie shoots him an awkward thumbs up before grabbing his hand and tugging him toward the door, pushing it open and closing it behind them only to press Steve against it.

Steve can’t help the moan that’s ripped out of him at the sensation. But Eddie takes the opportunity to lean in and kiss him, harder than before, almost instantly deepening the kiss, brushing his tongue against Steve in filthy strokes. His hands move through Steve’s hair wildly, pulling him in closer, and tugging at the strands, making Steve practically a puddle of goo in the process.

God, he feels like he can’t breathe in the best way.

His hands come up to press into Eddie back, trying to get him to move closer, to successfully pin him fully against the door, but Eddie keeps his distance. Pulling away from the kiss, nipping at his bottom lip before stepping back completely.

Steve breathes heavily, staring at Eddie’s pupils blown wide, the pink flush to his cheeks, and the glossy look to his lips that Steve can’t help but think is all his doing.

“Well?” Eddie asks.

Steve tries to latch onto the words in his brain floating around. They seem entirely unimportant in this moment, but Steve knows he has a question to answer. A reason he’s doing all of this.

He runs a hand through his hair, feeling the wild strands, wishing he hadn’t messed with it before he got a chance to look at himself. He takes a deep breath and ignores the way he feels and focuses on the question at hand. “It felt more like lust to me.”

Eddie’s face crumples for a moment before he hides it behind his hand. He scrubs them over his face before he laughs humorlessly. “Figures. Jesus H. Christ, I should know by now.”

Steve’s mind lingers on what Eddie said before. “And what if you had a way to know?”

Eddie shakes his head, confused. “What do you mean?”

Steve tries again. “Like, what if you had a measure to know the difference between lust and lo- passion.” Steve silently curses the slip up, hoping Eddie doesn’t notice.

But the other boy just frowns and crosses his arms. “Now how would I do that?”

“The same thing again, only I show you what it’s like on the other side of things.”

Eddie stares at him for a few seconds before inching closer. “You want to do that?”

“Yeah,” Steve replies instantly. “You of all people deserve to know.”

Eddie glances at the ground and shakes his head. “I don’t know about that.”

Steve’s heart breaks, wondering if he’ll be able to show him what he truly means to him. He slowly tilts up Eddie’s chin and takes a step closer, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear. He lets his hand linger before resting it against Eddie’s jaw, thumb brushing over his cheekbone. “You do,” Steve says, looking him in the eyes to show him the truth in what he’s saying.

“Steve…” Eddie says as if it’s a plea and simultaneously a disagreement.

And Steve answers him by leaning in and kissing him again. It’s like their first kiss shared in the hall moment earlier, but Steve doesn’t let it be a warm up this time. His left hand presses against Eddie’s back, pulling him in as close as he can. His other hand makes it way into Eddie’s hair, intertwining in the strands as he pulls away to breathe before reangling and kissing him again.

Eddie’s hand comes up to the back of his neck, grounding Steve as his lips move against Eddie’s slowly but firmly. They pull away for a moment, letting their breath intermingle as they catch it before they both move together again.

He lets Eddie learn what it’s like to take his time, enjoy the slowness and linger in the moment. To be held close and gently caressed.

Steve’s hand trails down from Eddie’s hair, tracing the same pathway from earlier but backwards, down his neck, his arms, and to his hands, intertwining their fingers together.

Eddie gasps lightly into the kiss as Steve squeezes his hand, and takes the opportunity to deepen the kiss, letting Eddie explore rather than take.

Steve’s not sure how long they stand there, kissing as if there was no tomorrow, lingering in every moment. Breaking away momentarily to catch their breath before swooping back in, not letting the moment end. Because once it ends, they may never come back to it.

The thought hits Steve, drenching his thoughts with painful clarity. This is the moment everything he’s tried so hard to push down finally all comes up. No turning back now.

He pulls away from the kiss and rests his forehead against Eddie’s. He pants out his name quietly when Eddie tries to kiss him again.

He seems to understand, moving to rest his forehead against Steve’s before squeezing his eyes shut. Their hands remain intertwined.

Neither of them say a word, not wanting to break the moment or face reality.

But a question lays heavy on Steve’s mind.

“I don’t think it matters about what the kiss with the guy felt like. What matters is how did you feel during it?”

Eddie shakes his head and squeezes Steve’s hand. “Steve…”

“Eddie…”

Eddie takes a deep breath and whispers into the shared air between them, “Nothing close to what I just felt.”

Steve slowly pulls away and looks Eddie in the eye. “Are you sure?”

“Christ, Steve. No one has ever made me feel the way you just did.”

Steve pauses and asks, “What about other than that kiss? Do I make you feel like that all the time?”

Eddie’s hand loosens it grip as he steps back, shaking his head. “Don’t make me answer that, man.”

He’s stopped when Steve’s grip tightens, trying to keep him close. “You make me feel that way all the time,” Steve says, hoping he didn’t ruin everything they’ve built up to.

Eddie steps closer and cups his face. “You promise?”

Steve nods. “Yes.”

“Thank god. I was about to silently pine for the rest of my life. Shit,” Eddie says with a laugh.

Steve smiles, a laugh escaping from him as joy fills his entire body. “Yeah?”

“I was a fucking goner as soon as you kissed me the first time,” Eddie says.

Steve laughs, “I already was way before then.”

Eddie’s eyes widen. “You’re telling me I could’ve had this sooner?”

It’s seems like Steve’s incapable of doing anything but laugh.

“Steeeeve Harrington, we have so much lost time to make up for,” Eddie says, stepping closer.

“Tell me about it,” Steve says, moving in to kiss Eddie again.

He hopes eventually Eddie will forget what it was like to only know lust filled kisses, but, for now, he settles on helping him learn about passion and love.

[spinji]

You know what scene I still think about a lot? The conversation with Garaki and Mic.

Well, it's less of a conversation and more Garaki infodumping to cause as much emotional damage as possible before he gets his ass thrown in jail.

Still, all of the information we ever get surrounding nomu and Kurogiri specifically is so chilling. And if you've read the School Days arc in Vigilantes it's WORSE.

In Vigilantes, Oboro's death is framed by the narrative as an accident, a tragedy that comes as a result of educators and the government being too eager to throw prospective hero students into the world and out of their depth (wow I wonder where I've heard that scenario before). Shirakumo and Aizawa are in a fight they are not equipped to handle, and Shirakumo pays the price by protecting others over himself. He didn't do anything "wrong" for this to happen, but it happened anyway because the world doesn't care if you were in the right or not when it snuffs you out.

This isn't just a tragic backstory for Kurogiri, it frames Aizawa's entire mindset as he grows into an adult. His beliefs and unorthodox teaching methods come as a result of what he took away from thet tragedy. He emphasizes the unfairness of the world on the first day of class. He refuses to coddle his students. He's against the first years taking work studies. He fully intends to expel students who will not take this training or their own well being seriously because if he lets them stay, they're the next Shirakumo.

And then there's Garaki, all too happy to bring up Oboro to Mic as he's dragging his fat ass out of the lab. Because, you know, fun fact, that attack wasn't a coincidence at all. No bad luck, no wrong place wrong time, because that little work study team was All For One's target. He wanted a new quirk in his repertoire. It's just a shame that they got the wrong one. That erasure quirk would've been so useful. But, you gotta work with what life gives you, right?

Not only did that attack fundamentally change Aizawa as a person, but it was meant to kill him in Oboro's stead. And now Mic knows this. He knows that his best friend died in a deliberate attack to kill his other best friend. And with Midnight biting it not long after this, Mic has lost the last person chillingly aware of what happened to Shirakumo. The last person he would ever be able to tell outside of Aizawa himself. Mic has to sit there and mourn his coworker in Aizawa's hospital room, fully aware that Aizawa saw the lifeless body if their best friend because the intentional, avoidable attack killed the wrong person.

There's no way that Mic isn't aware of how Aizawa's behavior changed between becoming a student and becoming a teacher. He knows him too intimately to not see the difference, the callousness that grew from such a brutal life lesson, the hope that died in his eyes when faced with reality. But he can't say a word, not to him. He can't tell Aizawa that Oboro's death and Kurogiri's creation only came about because the target was on Aizawa's head. But he's forced to know that, carrying that forbidden knowledge to his grave in the hope Shouta never finds out.

[caco3simp]

Hehehe part idk of the previous posts

Baby's first pregnancy scare . One of the dumbasses is a senior citizen and the other is a trillion year old demon so you think they'd they should use condoms, right? You are wrong. Thirty years ago Bill was an almost omnipotent being so one snap and poof the problem is gone so they forgot now it COULD actually happen.

Yeah so here comes melody about to go on a grocery run all like "hey bill do you have any pads left?" and bill is all happy cause he thinks this stupid mortal form is actually behaving itself for once like

"hm? No i still have those you gave me 2 months ago :D"

"... what."

and ford that was just chilling on the porch, taking in some fresh air before he goes back down to the lab overhears this abdbarges in like "WHAT?!"

"what????🧍🏼‍♂️" cause bill had the birds-and-the-bees-for-humans talk and menstrual cycle explications but didnt actually put two and two together about how they are connected so now he is just sitting there confused like he isnt in on the joke

and they have to explain to him what that means. So now he is all panicky and icky about this possible human parasite possibly occupying his insides like whats up with you humans and your complicated biology anyway? In my dimension people just came together and synced their energies but also the other option like oh axolotl did i accidentally break the human shell???? if its not a parasite then what the fuck is happening.

He might have that panic attack either way.

Ive got multiple continuations of this already depending on what yall want

Does anyone actually read what i write in the captions

I should just write a fanfic already