#even the ones who were a little too excited to poke me with needles

[oyorama]

I JUST got out of the hospital for that you can't do this to me

[marleyybluu]

Piercings

Spooky x f!reader

Word count: 925

Warnings: Spooky being a cute daddy, talks of piercings, brief description of a child's ear being pierced, tears from both baby and dad (lol), fluff, Spooky gets a lil freaky at the end. (had to), allusions to smut. reader is not race-coded, reader speaks/understands Spanish

(not my gif. hes so fucking hot.)

“Spooky, baby, come on she’s six months. It’s easier to do it now, they say the pain won’t last as long.” You pouted at your husband. You’d been talking about piercings and earrings since you found out you were having a girl. Spooky hated it. Said you could just give her your moms old ass clip-ons and call it a day but you were not about to do your daughter like that. Plus you maaay have jumped the gun and bought lots of studs and little hoops for her.

Your husband scowled at you as he held the child in question in one hand and pushed the stroller with the other. “Pleeeease.” You begged. He huffed and rolled his eyes. “Fine,” He complied. “But I’m gonna be so pissed at you if something bad happens.” You rolled your eyes, you were sure she’d be fine. “She won’t even cry.”

“Have you seen her get a needle at the doctors? Yes she will.” He argued. But it was too late he already said yes and so you led them over to Claire’s. You browsed around until the piercer was done with her current client. Spooky smiled as his daughter’s tiny hands reached for the bow he was holding. “You already have too many bebita…. But what’s one more? Right?”

Spoiled.

While they were distracted you conversed with the piercer who assured you that the pain would be quick, she’d cry for a few seconds but she’d be completely fine after. “Yeah, try and tell my husband that. He might fight us both.” You joked. She laughed and shrugged. “All the dads are like that,” She leaned in to whisper. “Sometimes they cry more than the kids.”

Oh, you’d pay to see that.

“Just let me finish sanitizing every thing and I’ll get to you guys.”

“Alright, thanks.”

You wandered to find your little family, your daughter snug as a bug in her fathers big arms. You poked her side and she squirmed flashing you a toothless smile. “Are you ready, mi amor? We’re gonna make you look extra pretty.”

Spooky groaned. “Say Mommy I’ll always be pretty and that this idea is estúpido.” You flicked him on the back of his bald head."

"Stop teaching my child bad words."

He mocked you and flipped you off, you grabbed his finger, about to twist it off if you could but the piercer had called you guys over. You firmly planted your hand on his back and pushed him to the chair, he sat and glared at you. "Okay, so you'll sit her on your lap, one arm over her torso... like this..." She arranged his arm for him, "And hand... here." His large hand engulfing your child's head, she turned her small head to you and smiled again. "Are you ready?" You asked in your baby voice which always got her excited.

The piercer picked up her piercing gun, you cringed starting to remember what that felt like when you got your nose pierced so long ago. She gently picked up the small lobe of your daughter's ear and let it hang between the end of the earring that was jammed inside the white gun and the hole it would come through. You heard one quick click and your baby's smile turned into a frown, her tiny lip quivered and she blinked out a few tears. Her calm before the storm. Her head was turned away from you and the same thing happened, a fast click, and soon a wailing baby.

Your heart sank, maybe it was a bad idea. Your eyes met Spooky's, in them held sorrow for his baby and disdain towards you-- they were glossy and slowly reddening from his own incoming tears, he rested her head in his chest and bounced her up and down with a comforting pat on her back.

"Ohhh, mi bonita flor, I'm sorry. We're not talking to mommy anymore." He cooed kissing the top of her head. Your jaw dropped. "Oh, come oooon, Spooky."

No response. Just a look that could kill. You half-smiled. "I love you. Thank you."

He sucked his teeth and walked out of the store with your bawling baby.

-- --

The silent treatment continued when you got home, even after your daughter calmed down and forgot the whole ordeal. You held her in your arms as she slept peacefully, milk drunk as usual. Her ruby earrings sparkled as they complimented her skin tone and face shape, you smiled drawing faint circles on her arm. You felt those warm brown eyes boring into the back of your skull.

"Still mad?" You mumbled turning toward him. "Yes." He huffed. You nodded your head at your baby. "Look how fucking cute she is. Just say I was right."

Spooky leaned over to get a better look at her, her small nose twitching in her sleep. He swooned resting his hand on her little leg. "Qué bonito. Ella es hermosa." (How cute. She is beautiful.)

"Exactly." You looked down at her. "Always knew we'd make some cute ass babies."

He delivered a soft kiss to your neck, his teeth nibbling at your skin and you could feel his smile against it. "Speaking of," He kissed the back of your ear. "When we gon' start trying for another."

You gasped as he pinched your thigh with his free hand. "Oscar Diaz!"

"I got my own milf walking around, you think I can control myself?" You playfully rolled and carefully eased off the couch so as not to wake your baby. "Let me put her in her crib."

"Yes!"

something quick cus i'm high asf and I've been seeing a lot of men crying when their daughters get their ears pierced and idk I just imagined spooky lmao couldn't think of a title but if yall come up with one and i like it I'll use it

if you liked this fic feel free to like this fic, comments and reblogs are appreciated.

Peace and love see you in the next one✌🏾

🏷: @darqchilddaydreamz @realhotgurlshit @skyesthebomb

[moonstruckpupwrites]

piercing pandemonium | one-shot

swapfell papyrus x reader

content warnings: suggestive situation, piercing biting, needles mentioned, cursing

author's note: THIS IS SO FUKCING STUPID AND SELF INDULGENT and also admittedly not my best work. i banged this out in a few days because i needed to practice getting back into writing and wanted to make something short with rusty <3

“c'monnn,” Rusty poked at your cheek with a phalange, trying to get you to look up from your phone to acknowledge him. You just batted his hand away lightly.

“Noooo,” you replied, giggling, then, more sternly, “no, Rus, I already told you, even I'm not really supposed to touch them.” Rusty dramatically groaned in response and rolled off his messy bed onto his equally messy floor.

When sweet silence filled the room once more, you finally looked up from the screen in your hand with a sort of dry amusement.

“You done?” 

“sighhhh…i guess…” Papyrus relented, drawing circles into the fluffy carpet with his long finger bones mournfully. If a skeleton could stick out their bottom lip and pout, you were certain he'd be doing just that.

After a moment of peace, though, he was back at it again, placing a hand on your knee to try and keep your attention on him and off your screen for just a moment longer.

 “what if i just touch them a little bit?”

You exhaled hard through your nose, trying to cover up your laugh at your friend's antics.

The topic of discussion: your new lip piercings and how badly Rusty wanted to prod at them. Why he wanted to do so so badly, you couldn't begin to pretend to understand.

Probably just because he's been told he shouldn't.

“Why do you even want to touch them anyways?” you finally decided to ask, voice slightly exasperated, “my lips are still bruised up AND they're crusty. It's kind of nasty, man.”

Rusty shrugged in return, an impish grin spreading across his face.

…Who were you kidding, it was definitely because he'd been told he shouldn't.

Now, it wasn't that you were exactly against letting Rusty touch your piercings, you just knew in the logical parts of your brain that it probably wasn't a smart, advisable idea. Your piercer had drilled into your head that you were supposed to keep them clean, and part of that was probably not allowing any curious skeletons to touch them.

But the other part of your brain, the part that realllyyyy liked the thought of the monster in front of you fawning over your new jewelry, had other plans.

“...Okay.”

Rusty sat up straight and looked up at you from his place on the floor with a growing grin on his skull. He looked like he had just been told that he had won the lottery.

“...really?”

“Really.”

“...you sure??”

“I'm sure.”

Rusty let out an excited little whoop before tossing his gangly arms around your waist and burying his head in your stomach. 

“thank youuuuuuuuuuu!”

You patted the top of his skull gently, rolling your eyes good naturedly at his dramatics.

“Yeah, yeah. You're welcome, you weirdo.”

Rusty waggled his bonebrow at you as he maneuvered himself to re-take his place next to you on his bed.

“you love it!”

“I love you,” you corrected, making to flick the side of the skeleton’s head, only for his hand to reach up and catch yours before it could reach its destination.

“i love you too,” Rusty sing songed back, clutching your hand to his chest and pretending to swoon, “now sit still and let me finger you!”

You barked out a laugh, caught off guard by Papyrus' choice of words.

“Okay, okay!” you snorted, trying to recover from your initial surprise, turning more to fully face Rusty and crossing your legs on the bed in front of you. “Poke away! But please, be gentle!”

“i will, i will,” the skeleton assured while chuckling, reaching his hands up to cup your face. “...or will i?” You shot him a look that must have screamed “you fucking better” because the tenderness with which he cradled your jaw left you pleasantly surprised.

You could feel your cheeks heating up as the soft fabric of your buddy’s gloves and hard bone of his phalanges held you with an unexpected gentleness. A silence fell over the room as his eye lights flickered from one piercing to the other, taking in the sight of the silver metal against your skin.

“...Are you going to do it or are you just going to sit there and stare all day?” you asked after what felt like an eternity.

He squeezed your face a little, forcing your lips to pucker and effectively silencing you.

“‘m just admirin’,” he hummed, his tone uncharacteristically soft. Your lips twitched into a shy smile at that, unsure of how to respond.

After another minute or so of “admirin'”, he took his thumb and gently, gently ran it over one of the piercings decorating your bottom lip. When you looked up into his eye lights, you could see that they'd grown fuzzy around the edges. Funny. You'd never seen them do that before.

“cool,” he said absentmindedly, not really directing it at you. Your breath hitched in discomfort when he pressed down on the piercing a little, testing the give of it on your skin.

“Ow, Rus, remember? Fresh piercing?” The skeleton in front of you at least had the good sense to look mildly embarrassed, zygomatic bones coloring a rusty (haha) reddish-orange as his eyelight snapped back into focus.

“nyeh heh…right…m’sorry, dude.” He continued to run his thumb over the jewelry (though more carefully this time) before moving on to the center of your slightly cracked and swollen lips. He clicked his tongue sympathetically.

“does it hurt a lot?”

You would have shaken your head if it hadn't been cupped in his two hands but you settled for a little “eh” instead.

“It hurt a lot when the needles were going through and when they were putting the jewelry in but now it's mostly just sore.”

Rusty nodded at that, a far off look on his face. You knew that look. He was thinking about something.

Hard.

That could be dangerous.

“What.”

He snapped to attention and looked at you quizzically, still holding your face like one might cradle a baby bird that has fallen from its nest.

“what what?”

“What were you thinking about, bonehead? I could practically smell the smoke.”

He snorted at the ribbing (HA. Ribs.) and faced you with a lopsided smirk on his face.

Uh oh.

“can i kiss you?”

You looked up at him, more than a little shocked, not quite believing the words that had come out of his mouth.

“Run that one by me again?”

“to see how they feel,” he continued, as if it would explain the out of the blue question. You darted your eyes around the room in bewilderment, as if searching for someone to jump out from the closet and shout at you that you'd just been crazy epically pranked or some shit.

Papyrus. Wanted to kiss you??

“...Why would you want to do that?” You managed to reply, voice coming out more taken aback than you meant for it to.

Almost immediately, Rusty let go of your face, like the heat rising to your cheeks had literally burned him. 

He let out a nervous laugh and scratched at the back of his neck. The lopsided smirk dropped from his skull, replaced by a shy, barely there smile that didn't quite reach his eyes, like he realized maybe his request was pushing it too far.

“i dunno. sorry. just curious.”

You frowned at his response. It felt odd hearing your normally talkative friend fall back into his old, shortened speech patterns from when you'd first met.

“Nah, man, don't be sorry, I just,” you struggled to find the words in your flustered state, “I guess I just wasn't expecting it is all.” Rusty leaned back on his hands, putting some distance between the two of you, almost as if he was scared of making you uncomfortable with his close proximity.

“we don't, like, have to,” he shrugged, trying to play his question off.

This fuckin guy.

“I know,” you replied, biting the inside of your cheek in thought, “But we could?”

Papyrus raised a bone brow at you, sharply inhaling (could skeletons inhale?) through his nose in surprise.

“...yeah?” he asked, tilting his head at you hopefully.

“Yeah. Yeah, I think I'd be, uh, cool with that.”

“...ya just seem real nice and soft and warm and-” you put a hand up to cut his rambling off before you could start to get second hand embarrassed from him saying too much.

“Relax, dude, I already said you could. You don't have to convince me.”

“and you're really sure. like you're actually -”

“I'm actually sure that I want you to kiss me, Papyrus.”

He rocked back and forth a bit to work out his nerves, that dopey grin you are more accustomed to slowly returning to his skull. The corners of his eye sockets crinkled up in a way that only a skeleton monster's magical bones could.

“...okay, so like, do i just do it?”

Oh my God.

“Oh my God.”

“right, right, well, uh, okay! pucker up, buttercup!” He cringed at his own phrasing as soon as the words left his mouth, causing you to break into giggles at his ‘just drank spoiled milk’ expression.

He apparently decided to silence your mocking laughter by pressing his teeth to your lips in one quick, slightly rough action. His bones clicked slightly against your piercings and a little zap of magic that felt like static electricity rushed along your bruised lips.

You inhaled sharply through your nose, predictable pain from your fresh piercings shooting up into the rest of your face at Rusty's actions. You nearly pulled back, ready to end the kiss early, when you felt something warm and wet glide soothingly over your lips as if in apology.

His fucking tongue.

More sparks of magic ran through your face as the soft muscle ran over the metal of your jewelry, toying with the balls that sat flushed with your skin.

Weirdo.

Whatever. It's not like it felt bad. You just hadn't expected tongue. Like, you knew he had one, he had this habit of sticking it out when he was really concentrating on something, but you hadn't expected the feeling of it. Warm and wet and absolutely buzzing with magical intent. 

…Not that you could super clearly understand intent (though with Papyrus’ help, you were starting to get better at it), but with it in direct contact with you, you could get a pretty good idea of what was meant by the action.

Soothing/comfort/care.

Aw.

The sharp pain in your lips slowly started to become nothing more than a dull ache as Rusty continued to kiss you. Ah what the hell. You were already smoochin’ your best friend, might as well make it a full on make out sesh. 

You parted your lips slightly to allow him entrance which he accepted gratefully, a pleased rumble starting in his chest at the invitation. 

Oh man, that was a good sound. 

You could feel your breathing start to get heavier and a warmth begin to form deep in your stomach the longer the two of you went at it. 

One of his hands dropped from your cheek to rest on your waist, running his thumb along the sliver of exposed skin between the waistband of your jeans and where your t-shirt hem rode up your hip. Your breath caught in your throat at the cool sensation of bones on warm skin and you absent-mindedly let out a surprised little hum.

You heard him huff a little laugh out of his nose and continue his hand’s path up your shirt to run soothingly along your spine. You shuddered at the action, arching your back instinctively to bring your body closer to his. You fleetingly wondered how it would feel to touch his spine. Was he doing it to you because he knew it was what felt good on him? Would he mind if you-

Then the fucker tugged at your piercing with his teeth.

A sharp pain radiated from your lips and you let out a squeal, slapping at him with your hands. The fucking shithead! 

Soothing/comfort/care YOUR ASS.

He pulled off of you and let out peels of laughter at your indignant expression.

“y’should- oh fuck!! y'should’ve heard the sound ya made!” he chortled, only slightly phased by the miffed punch you landed on his arm.

“You're such a fucking dick!” You grinded out from between your teeth, covering your mouth to shield it from further attacks. Your heart pounded in your chest. 

…And surprisingly, somewhere else too.

His little stunt hurt like a bitch…but…you…well…

“aw c’mon, darlin’, i was just havin’ a little fun,” he cooed placatingly, tossing an arm around your shoulder and pulling you close enough into his side that you could feel the slight hum of his soul through his rib cage.

Oh god. You thought it was kind of hot didn’t you.

“Well you're cut off,” you huffed, more than flustered. You crossed your arms and stood up, moving away from the bed,“that's enough fun for one day.” 

You liked it! You liked it when he bit your fucking piercing!

The skeleton looked up at you from his spot on the bed, expression shifting to one of remorse. He whined out your name and reached for you pathetically.

“whhhaaaattttttt? but we were just getting started!”

“And after that move, you're finished, Papyrus!” The skeleton opened his mouth as if to say something, changed his mind, closed it, then opened it again.

“...look, sugar, ‘m real sorry-”

“They’re fresh piercings, Rusty-”

“-i didn’t mean to kill the mood-”

“-and that really hurt-”

“-i was just messing around, didn’t mean to-”

“-you’ve gotta wait until they’re healed before you try that again!”

“-cause ya any pai- what?” The skeleton stopped and stared at you for a moment, processing what you’d just said.

“...I’m smelling smoke again.”

Ignoring your teasing words, he shook his skull as if to dislodge something from his nonexistent ears before giving you a bewildered sort of look.

“...again?”

“What?”

“you said you wanna try that again?” You shifted from one foot to the other at his request for clarification and looked down at the now suddenly interesting carpet.

Aw man, maybe you should have kept that to yourself.

“...I mean, yeah, when they’re fully healed and all. Otherwise they might reject and that would really suck to have to deal with and-”

He was just messing around with you and you had to make it weird, way to go.

You cut yourself off and shrugged at him, face hot and throat dry.

God you were just digging yourself into a deeper hole, weren’t you?

“...cool.” 

You paused in your worrying to glance up at Rusty and noticed immediately that his cheek bones were deeply tinted with a soft, russet glow.

Oh.

Oh.

It suddenly dawned on you that maybe, just maybe, he hadn’t been merely messing around and was instead, quite possibly, I dunno, just as into biting your piercings as you were into having them bitten? Wow, you were learning  something new about yourself and about your good pal, Papyrus. Strengthening your unbreakable bonds of friendship and what not one make out sesh at a time.

“Cool?”

“yeah,” he let out a little laugh and shot a dorky smile your way, “i can, uh, wait until they’re healed or whatever.”

You let out a relieved little breath and returned his grin with one of your own.

“Okay. Cool.”

[noodlenoodlenoodlenoodle]

So what am I? The butt of the joke?

Scout didn't like coming to Medic's office. He didn't like being around him, he didn't like talking to him, and he sure as hell didn't like having to get patched up by him. The old man pried too much into his life, talked too much, and a million other things Scout could list off that would take up an entire day. Something about Medic just boiled Scout's blood, and he didn't even seem to realize it.

Scout hissed through his teeth as Medic pressed a peroxide-soaked cotton swab to his busted knuckles, clenching his jaw and other fist, nails digging into his palm. "You said it'd only sting a little," Scout hissed through gritted teeth, furiously glaring at Medic.

"Oh, don't be such a baby," Medic said with a roll of his eyes, placing the cotton swab onto the sterile tray where the rest of his medical instruments lay. Scout warily eyed the needle as Medic wiped it down with a sterile alcohol pad, pulling nylon thread through the eye. "Now, zis will pinch a little, so try to be still, ja?"

Scout fought the urge to whine and complain as Medic began to slowly stitch up his knuckles, pulling the wounds closed cleanly and with extreme precision. As much as Scout hated it, Medic was extremely good at his job, though he'd never tell anyone that.

"Zere." Medic snipped the thread, wrapping gauze around Scout's knuckles. "Zat wasn't so bad, ja? And you can even take a lutscher since you didn't whine!" Medic grins gleefully, pointing at a mug filled with various colorful suckers and lollipops.

"I'm not a damn baby," Scout snapped, sliding off the table, snatching a sucker from the mug with a scowl. He wasn't going to turn down free candy, that'd just be stupid.

"Kleines Arschloch!" Medic shouted as the doors swung shut behind Scout, his voice muffled as Scout walked further away from the lab, peeling off the plastic and putting the sucker in his mouth. It wasn't half bad.

Maybe he'd swing by Medic's lab more, just to get a sucker every now and then.

"Ah, Scout!" Medic clasped his hands together, smiling widely as Scout poked his head through the swinging doors of Medic's lab. It was odd, seeing the doctor so... excited to see him. It was almost unsettling, seeing him so happy. "I was hoping you'd swing by!"

"...you were?" Scout hesitantly let the doors swing shut behind him, the action feeling like he was signing the warrant for his death. What the hell had he just gotten himself into?

"Ja, ja!" Medic waved Scout over, turning to his desk. "I vas vondering, I've been taking ze team's DNA samples, and-"

"You've what?"

"Shush!" Medic glared at Scout, mouth pulling into a scowl as he continued. "As I was saying, I've been taking ze team's DNA samples, and you mentioned not knowing your father, ja?"

Scout's brow furrowed. His dad? What the hell did that deadbeat piece of shit have to do with anything?

"Vell, if you'll give me a sample of your DNA, I can find out who it is!" Medic seemed... a little too excited about the prospect, like there was an ulterior motive he had in mind, but... Scout couldn't think of one.

"And you promise no funny business?" Scout frowned, eyes trained on Medic, searching for any sign that he had an ulterior and nefarious motive.

"Promise, promise!" Medic gleefully handed Scout a small tube. "Just spit in ze tube, and I vill take care of ze rest!"

"Hey doc." The doors to Medic's lab swung open and closed, a noise Scout was starting to become familiar with. He wouldn't admit it, not even with a gun pointed to his head, but he was starting to enjoy Medic's company. "You, uh... y'said you wanted to see me?"

"Ja, ja!" Medic turned around with a wide grin, a stack of papers held tightly in his hand. "Ze DNA results are in! Oh, I should tell you, ve made bets on vho it vould be." Medic laughed, continuing before Scout could even interject. "Anyvay, ze results confirm zat Spy is your biological fazer!"

Scout paused for a moment. Bets? Confirmation? Spy?!?

"Woah, woah woah WOAH!" Scout held his hands in the air, staring at Medic with a horrified and confused expression. "You made bets on who my dad was?"

Medic shrugged, nonchalantly nodding as if it were as normal as drinking water. "Ja, most of ze team zought zat Spy was your fazer."

Medic pauses for a moment, his face falling and turning into one of abject horror. "Oh. Did you... not know zat?"

"My dad's Spy!? And you made bets on it!?"

Scout... didn't know why it bothered him that the team had made bets on who his father was without even bothering to tell him first. Sure, he'd always had his suspicions about Spy, but it hadn't occurred to him that his suspicions went beyond speculation.

No, no, it couldn't be true. It couldn't. There was no way Spy was his dad, no way in hell. This was all just some cruel joke that he was the butt off.

"Very funny, doc," Scout snapped, jaw clenched. "Where's the real results."

Medic paused, staring at Scout blankly. "...zey are ze real results, Scout."

...

......

No.

No, it wasn't true.

It couldn't be.

This was all a joke, a joke that he was the butt of. He was always the butt of the joke. That was all it was.

A joke.

Just a joke.

[kaykay8776]

Brother, I Am With You - Ch. 2

Hi, me again. Yes, I’m uploading two chapters in one day. I’m excited for this story, sue me. 

Ch. 1 is here, and if you prefer AO3, it’s there as well. Onward to the fic! Thanks for reading!

Warnings: Needles, wound medical care, hospitals

The rest of the day went somewhat as Mario expected it to. When he finally showed up, the doctor assessed his wound and determined what Mario probably could’ve figured out himself; there was soft tissue and muscle damage and deep bruising. But since his range of motion and sensation was unaffected, there wasn’t any tendon or nerve damage. For some reason the doc felt the need to tell Mario that the dog barely missed hitting his brachial artery as well as one of his major nerves. He guessed it was his weird way of trying to make him feel better, but it just freaked him out. 

When the doc decided he’d done enough poking and prodding, he said he wanted to clean the wounds out and stitch them closed. Then he wanted Mario to get an x-ray to make sure there wasn’t any bone damage, and then he could be on his way. 

When the time came, they got Mario laying down and had him stretch his arm out on a table with a blue drape on it. He saw the big syringe full of lidocaine next to a bunch of other torture instruments and his breath seized in his chest, but Lucy saw and promised him they would be fast. He turned his head the opposite direction and practiced one of the breathing exercises Luigi had taught him before. 

He definitely regretted not bringing his brother with him, because damn, he could’ve really used a hand to squeeze. But he’d caused him enough trouble already. He was on his own. Breathe in, breathe out. Breathe in, breathe out. 

They started injecting the lidocaine then, and honestly, it was awful. He felt the pinch of the needle in his already sore and tender skin, and the lidocaine itself burned and stung, taking way too long to finally give way to a cool numbness. They put a little into every puncture and tear, and there were 11 in total. By the time they were done, Mario’s eyes were damp. Lucy, bless her, handed him a tissue without saying anything except that the worst part was over now. 

Thankfully, that was indeed the worst part. They cleaned the wounds out next, which wasn’t that bad. He felt the sting of the antiseptic in a couple of spots, but it still wasn’t as bad as the lidocaine, and it faded away before he even had a chance to react to it. Even the stitches weren’t bad; he expected them to be worse. All he felt was some pressure and tugging, but the sensations were easy enough to ignore. He just kept looking away and studied the big poster on the wall about the human skeletal system. Who knew that a person’s hands have 27 bones each?

Finally, they finished and let him sit up. 31 stitches all together. Mario squinted at them, his stomach lurching just a little, before Lucy put a clean dressing over them and forced him to stop looking. Then a new lady poked her head in the room and informed them that they had an open spot for him to get his x-ray. He hastily followed her, eager to get moving and walk some of his nerves off. 

Mario denied her offer to walk him back after they were finished, which was a stupid thing to do because he got lost almost immediately. He felt like a little kid lost in a grocery store as he looked around and tried to remember where the hell he came from. Eventually, he relented and asked the DI unit clerk for directions. Turns out he was literally right in front of the hallway he’d come from, his dumbass just couldn’t find the sign. He left in an annoyed huff and went back to the room he was in before, sitting in one of the stiff armchairs instead of on the table this time. 

Soon, Dr. Asher returned alone, holding an iPad. He said Mario’s x-ray came back normal with no signs of bone damage, which was good. The talk soon turned into a long lecture; he wanted to see Mario again in 10 days to see how it was healing and to remove the stitches. It would take a long time to heal, and he walked Mario through the best ways to help speed up the process. He would likely need physical therapy to rehab the limb, and would possibly need to see an orthopedic specialist to assess the muscle damage. Then came another lecture about the signs and symptoms of infection and sepsis and when to go to the ED; Mario did his best to pay attention, he really did, but a lot of the big words and medical jargon flew right over his head. But he gave him a small package of papers that summed everything up nicely, so he didn’t feel that bad. 

Really all he had been able to think in response was how much he now hated dogs. 

“So, are we done? Can I leave now?” Mario asked, trying not to sound as desperate as he felt. 

“One last thing,” Dr. Asher looked at his tablet. “It says in here that you had your last tetanus shot when you were in the 9th grade, is that correct?”

Damn. Mario was afraid of that. 

“Yes.” He answered begrudgingly, crossing his arms. 

“Then I recommend you get a booster today, since it’s been more than 5 years.”

“Come on, it’s been 7. You can’t let me squeak by?” 

Dr. Asher pursed his lips, shrugging his shoulders. “You can refuse, if you wish.”

Mario groaned. “No, I’ll get it, whatever. If it means I get to go home after.”

“Yup, that’s everything.” Dr. Asher got up to leave. “Take care, Mario. Feel better, and come back if you have any concerns.” He smiled kindly. Mario half-heartedly smiled back, and the door closed behind him. 

Mario inhaled a big breath and released it, stretching his legs and rolling his stiff neck. He was so ready to go home and jump into his bed and not leave for days. He pulled out his phone, and almost as soon as he did, a text came from Luigi.

So what’s the deal? Did they amputate?

Mario smiled and shook his head fondly, punching out a reply. No, just 31 stitches. 

I bet you’ll have some awesome scars.

I doubt it. You’re such a dork.

The dorkiest. What are you waiting for now?

Just a tetanus shot.

Uh oh, you need me to come hold your hand?

He audibly snorted. Fuck off, I’m not 6.

You sure? I think you’re short enough.

Mario chuckled and sent a long string of middle finger emojis, and Luigi replied with a longer string of laughing ones. He turned his phone off, sighing quietly and putting his head back, closing his eyes. 

Mario sat there alone for long enough that he’d curled up and had just about dozed off. Finally, Lucy came back, poked him in his deltoid, gave him a brief rundown of his wound care, and finally let him go. He saw the front desk clerk and hastily scribbled his signature on the discharge form, then ran out of there before anyone else could come up with more reasons to keep him. 

He found Luigi happily snoozing away in the waiting room and couldn’t help but laugh; the guy had a gift. He could sleep anywhere. After sneakily snapping a picture to add to his ever growing collection, he woke him up and they took a cab home. 

During the ride, Luigi started talking about who they should go to about getting the van fixed. Mario had made up a lame excuse that he was tired and sore and wasn’t really up for discussing it, when in reality all he could think about was that they actually couldn’t get the van fixed right now because they didn’t have any money. And that was all because Mario had stupidly convinced Luigi to let him blow it all on their commercial. 

Which, Mario learned later that evening, wasn’t even good, as far as his family was concerned. Tony and Arthur had laughed right in his face, just like Spike had. He had tried to stick around for dinner, but after all the laughing, the mushrooms on his plate, the guys asking to see his stitches even though he kept telling them he wasn’t supposed to take the bandage off yet, and his father’s remark as the cherry on top, he left the table using the same excuse of being tired and sore and just wanting to lay down. He felt bad for being so rude, but he’d had a long and crappy day. Sue him. 

It wasn’t a total lie by any means; he definitely would’ve liked to lay down and sleep, but he was a side sleeper and he doubted he’d be able to find a pain-free sleep position now that both of his arms were sore. He settled for turning the lights off and playing video games, but it still didn’t do much to distract from the words that kept running through his head. The words wrought with disdain and disappointment. 

I think you’re nuts. You don’t leave a steady job for some crazy dream. And the worst part? You’re bringing your brother down with you.

Mario growled and threw his controller down as he died yet again, turning the TV off and giving up. He rubbed at his eyes, placing his elbows on his knees, sighing in exhausted agony. There it was again, the gentle burn in his eyes, the wobble in his breath. 

Once again, Luigi managed to interrupt him when his defenses were down. He poked his head through the door of their shared bedroom, holding a plate of mushroom-less pasta and a bottle of red gatorade. Mario sat up, taking a steadying breath.

“I thought you were laying down.” Luigi smiled knowingly. 

Mario shrugged weakly. “Tried, but everything hurts.”

“Did you take some meds?” 

“Yeah, just now.” He’d taken two Advil and two Tylenol tablets after leaving the dinner table. 

“You should probably eat something, big guy,” Luigi murmured softly, using the same tone he used whenever Mario was the one hurt or knocked out with a cold. He was being so sweet, and Mario’s chest panged. “Or at least drink something.”

Luigi handed him the gatorade, and he took it, lazily taking a swig even though he wasn’t really thirsty. 

“I wish I could have something stronger than this.” Mario admitted quietly, turning away so he wouldn’t see Luigi’s reaction. He knew he really couldn’t, but still, it was the truth. Right now, all he wanted was to sit down with a bottle of his favourite white wine and drink until he couldn’t remember his own name. 

“Well, you aren’t getting anything stronger, not on my watch.” Luigi replied after a few beats, undoubtedly surprised at Mario’s remark. “You aren’t serious, are you?” 

“Relax, of course not.” Mario shook his head. 

Luigi was silent for a few more tense moments, and Mario could feel his concerned eyes boring into him. He didn’t look back; he couldn’t.

“Mario, are you sure you’re okay?” 

There was that tone of voice again, so caring, so soft. How lucky was Mario to have someone who cared about him so much? Someone who kept reaching a hand out even after he kept pushing it away?

And what had Mario done for Luigi in return? Risk his safety by taking him into a stranger’s home and almost getting him attacked by a stupid dog. All to achieve a dream that was Mario’s, not his. It wasn’t fair; Luigi deserved better. 

Unable to help himself, he cleared his throat and hid his guilt with another snotty remark. “So far. My arm hasn’t fallen off yet, but we’ll see what happens.”

“Would you–” Luigi stopped and took a frustrated breath, trying again. “Stop dodging, that’s not what I meant.”

“I know what you meant.” Mario sighed. “And I told you, I’m fine. You don’t need to worry about me.”

Another tense silence followed. Even though he still refused to look at him, he knew exactly what Luigi was thinking, and his heart seized. He hated that he was worried, but he couldn’t let him in. This whole mess was his own fault; when he was feeling better, he would figure out how to clean it up himself. There was no other choice. 

Luigi took a breath to speak, then–

“Luigi! It’s your turn for dishes tonight!” Ma hollered from the kitchen. 

Mario hoped his sigh of relief wasn’t audible. Luigi frowned, not moving for a few moments. 

“Go on, get outta here,” Mario ushered. “Don’t make her mad.”

“Fine.” Luigi grabbed the uneaten plate of pasta with one hand–Mario had already decided he wasn’t eating it–and squeezed Mario’s shoulder with the other before sliding off the bed and heading to the door. Before closing it, he turned and looked at Mario again. 

“Just yell if you need anything, okay?” 

It was such a mindless gesture, something they said to each other in different variations all the time, but hearing it from Luigi even after all the grief he’d caused him today made him want to cry all over again. But he clenched his jaw and nodded stiffly. Luigi hesitated, worry and concern evident in his vibrant blue irises, but he ended up leaving. 

Mario inhaled and released a heavy sigh again, frustratedly rubbing at his eyes and throwing himself back on his pillows, narrowly missing bonking his head on the headboard. He hated all these damn feelings. 

Luigi should’ve been pissed at him. Mario had made him promises and hadn’t kept them. But instead he was worried about him and his well being. He truly didn’t deserve Luigi. 

Now that he knew Luigi would be occupied for enough time, he let himself have his moment. He rolled on his less sore side and curled up, pressing his hands against his face to silence the pathetic sounds he made as he cried. He was a complete and total fool for ever thinking that this would work; he felt like the worst brother in the world. 

He swiped at his face, sniffing wetly and taking a few breaths, pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes. This mess was his fault; he wasn’t allowed to cry about it. 

But he felt too shitty to try to fix it right now. He switched the TV to some random cop show, exhaustion and depression weighing heavy on his bones. He fixed his pillows and blankets, fidgeting for a while before he finally managed to make himself comfortable on his back. It wasn’t how he liked to sleep, but it would have to do for now. He haphazardly watched, slowly relaxing, and after 10 minutes, he was out like a light.

[jcmarchi]

CSS Chronicles XLII

New Post has been published on https://thedigitalinsider.com/css-chronicles-xlii/

CSS Chronicles XLII

Remember these? Chris would write a post now and then to chronicle things happening around the ol’ CSS-Tricks site. It’s only been 969 days since the last one, give or take. Just think: back then we were poking at writing CSS in JavaScript and juuuuuuust starting to get excited about a set of proposed new color features that are mostly implemented today. We’re nesting CSS rules now. Container queries became an actual thing.

CSS was going gosh-darned hog wild. Probably not the “best” time for a site about CSS to take a break, eh?

That’s why I thought I’d dust off the chronicles. It’s been a hot minute and a lot is happening around CSS-Tricks today.

I’m (sorta) back

We may as well begin here! Yeah, I was “let go” last year. There was no #HotDrama. A bunch of really good folks — all in the DigitalOcean community team — were let go at the same time. It was a business decision, love it or not.

Things changed at DigitalOcean after that. A new leadership team is on board and, with it, a re-dedicated focus on re-establishing the community side of things. That, and Chris published a meaty post about the CSS-Tricks situation from his perspective. Coincidentally or not, a new job opened that looked a lot like my old gig. I had feelings about that, of course.

This little flurry of activity led to a phone call. And a few more. And now I’m back to help get the ol’ CSS-Tricks engine purring, hopefully making it the rich resource we’ve loved for so long. I’m on contract at the moment and feeling things out.

So far? Man, it feels great to be back.

What I did during the “lull”

I jumped over to Smashing Magazine. Gosh, that team is incredible. It tickles me that we still have Smashing Magazine. And here’s a piece of trivia for your next front-end cocktail party: Smashing Magazine was launched in September 2006, a mere 11 months before Chris published the very first article here on CSS-Tricks.

I also spent my time teaching front-end development at a couple of colleges that are local to me where I live in Colorado. I had already been teaching but bumped up the load. But not too much because I decided this was as good a time as any to work on a master’s degree. So, I enrolled and split my days as a part-time editor, part-time educator, and part-time student.

The degree went quicker than expected, so I used the rest of my time finishing up an online course I had started a couple years earlier and finally got around to publishing it! It’s probably not the sort of course for someone reading this post, but for complete beginners who are likely writing their very first line of HTML or CSS. You ever get asked how to build a website but don’t have the energy (or time) to explain everything? Yeah, me too. That’s who this course is for. And my mom.

I call it The Basics — and I’d love it if you shared it with anyone you think might use it as a starting point into web development.

What I want for CSS-Tricks, going forward

This site’s always been great, even long before I was brought on board. Historically, it’s been more of a personal blog turned multi-author blog with a steady stream of content. Nothing wrong with that at all.

What’s lacking, though, is structure. Most everything we publish is treated like a blog post: write it, smash the Publish button, and let it sit on top of the stream until the next blog post comes out. We’re talking about a time-based approach in which posts become a timeline of activity in reverse chronological order. Where do you find that one post you came across last month? It’s probably buried by this point and you’ve gotta either hit the post archives or try your hand searching for it by keyword. That might work for a blog with a few hundred posts, but there are more than 7,000 here and searching has become more like finding the metaphorical needle in the equally metaphorical haystack.

So, you may have noticed that I’m shuffling things around. Everything is still a “post” but we’re now using a Category taxonomy more effectively than we had been in the past. Each category is a “type” of post. And the type of post is determined by what exactly we’re trying to get out of it. Let’s actually break this out into its own section because it’s a sizeable change with some explanation around it.

The “types” of things we’re publishing

OK, so everything used to be an article or an Almanac entry. We still have “articles” and “entries” but there are better ways to classify and distinguish them, most notably with articles.

This is how it shakes out:

Articles: The tutorials that have been the CSS-Tricks bread and butter forever

Guides: Comprehensive deep dives into a specific CSS topic (like the Flexbox guide)

Almanac: Reference pieces for understanding CSS selectors and properties that can be cited in articles and guides.

Notes: A post for taking notes on things we’re learning. They’re meant to be loose and a little rough around the edges, just like taking notes you’d take from a class lecture — only we’re taking notes on the things that others in the community (like you!) are writing about.

Links: Things we’re reading that we find interesting and want to share with you. A link might evolve into a Note down the road, but they’re also useful resources that can be cited in the Almanac, a guide, or an article.

Quick Hits: I hate this name but the idea is to have a place to post little one-liners, like a thought, an idea, or perhaps some timely news. I’m openly accepting ideas for a better name for these. 😇

This is what we’re looking at right now, but there are obviously other ways we can slice-n-dice content. For example, we have an archive of “snippets” that we’ve buried for many years but could be useful. Same with videos. And more, if you can believe it. So, there’s plenty of housekeeping to do to keep us busy! This is still very much early days. You’ll likely experience some turbulence during your flight. And I’m okay with that because this is a learning place, and the people working it are learning, too.

Yes, I did just say, “people” as in more than one person because I’d to…

Welcome a couple of new faces!

The thing that excites me most — even more than the ice cream truck excites my daughters — is bringing new people along for the ride. Running CSS-Tricks is a huge job (no matter how easy I make it look 😝). So, I’ve brought on a couple of folks to help share the load!

Juan Diego Rodriguez

Ryan Trimble

I got to know Juan Diego while editing for Smashing Magazine. He had written a couple of articles for Smashing before I joined and his latest work, the first part of a series of articles discussing the “headaches” of working with Gatsby, landed on my desk. It’s really, really good — you should check it out. What you should know about Juan Diego that I’ve come know is that the dude cares a lot about the web platform. Not only that, but pays close attention to it. I’m pretty sure he reads CSSWG specifications for pleasure over tea. His love and curiosity for all-things-front-end is infectious and I’ve already learned a bunch from him. I know you will, too.

Ryan, on the other hand, is a total nerd for design systems that advocates for accessible interfaces. He actually reached out to me on Mastodon when he caught wind that I needed help. It was perfect timing and I couldn’t be more grateful that he poked me when he did. As I’ve gotten to know him, I’m realizing how versatile his skillset is. Working with “design systems” can mean lots of different things. For Ryan, it means consistent, predictable user interfaces based on modular and reusable web components — specifically web components that are native to the platform. In fact, he’s currently working on a design system called Platform UI. I’ve also become a fan of his personal blog, especially his weekly roundups of articles he finds interesting.

You’ll be seeing a lot of Juan Diego and Ryan around here! They’re both hard at work on bringing the trusty Almanac up-to-date but will be posting articles as well. No one’s full time here, me included, so it’s truly a team effort.

Please give ’em both a hearty welcome!

This is all an ongoing work in progress

…and probably always will be! I love that CSS-Tricks is a place where everyone learns together. It might be directly about CSS. Maybe it’s not. Perhaps it’s only tangentially related to web development. It may even be a rough idea that isn’t fully baked, but we put it out there and learn new things together with an open mind to the fact that the web is a massive place where everyone has something to contribute and a unique perspective we all benefit from — whether it’s from a specialization in CSS, semantics, performance, accessibility, design, typography, marketing, or what have you.

Do you wanna write for CSS-Tricks?

You can and you should! You get paid, readers learn something, and that gets people coming to the site. Everybody wins!

I know writing isn’t everyone’s top skill. But that’s exactly what the team is here for. You don’t have to be a superior writer, but only be willing to write something. We’ll help polish it off and make it something you’re super proud of.

More than 200 web developers, designers, and specialists just like you have written for this site. You should apply to write an article and join the club!

So, yes: CSS-Tricks is back!

In its own weird way! In my perfect world, there would be no doubt whether CSS-Tricks is publishing content on any given day. But that’s not entirely up to me. It not only has to be of at least some value to people like you who depend on sites like CSS-Tricks but also to DigitalOcean. It’s a delicate dance but I think everyone’s on the same page with a shared interest of keeping this site around and healthy.

I’m stoked I get to be a part of it. And that Juan Diego and Ryan do, too. And you, as well.

We’re all in it together. 🧡

[sufjanoflove]

Today Was A Fairytale

Featuring: Nanami Kento x Reader

Synopsis: Nanami and you on a picnic date which leads you to wanting to give him a small tattoo.

Warnings: pure fluff 💗💗

“Min min can I give you a tattoo?” You’d ask, trying so hard to be convincing. You sat across from him on the canoe you two were in for the evening picnic you two planned. He had just finished placing the paddles down, and looked your way.

“What?” He pushed his glasses up as you hopped onto his lap with your handbag, “I said- or well questioned.. can I give you a tattoo?”

You heard him gulp, probably reluctant on allowing you to give him an amateur tattoo. You’re faces inches apart, you whispered, “come on,” you let out a giggle, “just a heart? maybe my initial?”

He let out a nervous chuckle when you wiggled your eyebrows, “How will you do it? I mean there’s no equipment out here?”

“Baby, do you know who you’re talking to? It’s not going to be a professional one but it will be good ‘cause I’m going to do it! Besides, It’s going to be a stick and poke, and look I have a safety needle in my purse along with sanitizing wipes!”

Soon after, you were focused on poking the side of his wrist with your first initial, in a very precise manner. Soft jazz played from your phone, set on the picnic basket as you continued, Nanami stifling his groans from the pain.

“I’m putting a lot of trust in you, love.”

“Of course you are Nani, I’ve done this to my little brother like a million times!”

You referring to the many small tattoos on Yuji’s arm, remembering how excited he was each and every time. He’d beg of you to tattoo him with stupid small drawings he’d find on social media, and end up trying to kill you a week later because they’d gotten infected.

“STOP IT! YOU’RE GOING TO MAKE ME SWEAT OFF MY MAKEUP AND FRIZ MY HAIR!” You huffed running through your home as your younger but very much stronger brother chased you, “YOU LITTLE BRAT I SHOULD BE THE ONE CHASING YOU!”

“ITS INFECTED!!! BECAUSE OF YOU Y/N!!” Yuji, obviously caught you, pinning you to the floor, and farting in your face. Megumi witnessing you cry, mascara running from your eyes as you repeatedly punched Yuji. That being last week.

Luckily, Nanami never saw any of that or else he would’ve never let you prick and poke his wrist. ‘Hopefully it doesn’t infect’ You’d think to yourself, holding in a laugh thinking of him crying over an infection just like your baby brother.

He shifted a little causing you to gasp, “Don’t move or I’ll accidentally stab you,” You giggling, “and you’ll bleed out and die! Hold still, hold still!”

“Aren’t you ..ouch.. already stabbing me?” Wincing, he faced towards the sunset, “We haven’t ate dinner yet, lovey.”

“Almost done,” you’re tongue in between your teeth, eyebrows furrowed as you finished the last of your work, “Almostt, and done! See!”

He huffed, “Yeah, yeah big deal.” He liked the idea of your first initial imprinted on him, worth all the pain.

“Gojo’s going to be SO jealous of my work on you!” You left pecks all over his face, especially his forehead because you don’t want the stress you cause him to leave too many stress lines.

“Gojo? Why’d he be jealous?” Nanami furrowed his eyebrows as you paused. ‘Oh no’

“Let’s eat dinner!” You hopped off his lap, and sat across from him in your old seat. Trying to change the atmosphere, you thought of all the food combos you can make with the items he brought, “Strawberries and chocolate would be such a good desser-”

“Itadori Y/n.”

“What?” Picking at your red nail polish, your heart raced, terribly. “I, you know, gave him one of these too but it came out horribly.” Oh yeah, you gave Gojo an infection too, his was on his ankle.

Nanami looked at his wrist, “I don’t see a problem, you did great on mine.”

Grinning, you leaned over to kiss the other side of the wrist that isn’t bleeding. “Glad you liked it but um, his came out fine too. Im talking, his recovery being the horrible part.”

It felt like slow motion, he looked at his new tattoo then at you. “Expect a really bad infection.”

“Y/N!!”

You screamed at his reaction, jumping off the canoe, since it wasn’t even that far from shore and ran through the sand. Nanami, being incredibly fast, tackled you to the floor. “What is it with you men and tackling me?”

“What is it with you tattooing us, knowing they’d heal badly.” He’d say before chuckling. His right arm on the ground near your head to lift him a little. You picked your head up, lips a hair apart from his.

“I’m sorry Nani, I just thought it would look cute. Maybe yours will heal better because you’re not filthy Satoru but my handsome, gorgeous, sexy fiancée!”

“Yeah huh, maybe.” Nanami gave you a peck, “Let’s go eat. This might be my last meal.”

“MIN MIN DONT SAY THAT,” you reached up to smack the back of his head as you both walked back to the canoe, “If anything, I’ll be your last meal.” You snickered as you ran again, this time towards the boat, hearing Nanami chuckle before chasing you.

[amerrierworld]

Little Songbird (pt 3)

Part 1 | Part 2

Summary: Lady Dimitrescu becomes addicted to your voice and wants to hear you... sing some more.

Characters: Alcina Dimitrescu x fem!reader

Word Count: 3,087

Warnings: The extra Smut Chapter ;)

The next day, you were a bit exhausted from the previous night’s... activities. But you set about work the same way as usual, though buzzing with an unusual excitement about the evening to come. 

You were working on repairing a rip in one of your old dresses. You really wanted to impress the Lady and look as good as possible, now that she had taken a liking to you. As you worked, the head maid asked you about your previous night’s duties while preparing lunch.

“It wasn’t all bad.” You kept your gaze on the hole in the dress you were mending as she prepped ingredients. “The Lady seemed very preoccupied. I don’t think I was much of a bother.”

“That’s very rare,” another maid cackled while peeling potatoes next to you. “She always looks at us like we’re the dirt on the bottom of her shoes. But I suppose the pay is good.”

“Not freezing out in the cold is very good pay, I agree,” the head house maid said dryly. “I suggest you try to keep it that way.”

The maid looked flustered at the comment and scampered off, intimidated by her gaze and muttering something about more things to be done. You bit your lip to stop from smiling.

“How was it really, my dear?” The head maid turned to you, a much kinder look in her eyes now. “The Lady can be a touch.. harsh.”

“It was fine, really. I didn’t know she had a piano until now.”

“Oh, yes. I’ve never heard her play myself, but I’ve heard stories she used to perform. Especially around holidays or important events.”

“Really?” Your mouth gaped a little as she explained. “I didn’t know she was that good at piano.”

“Oh, no, dear. Not piano. She would sing. It’s a bit sad we haven’t heard her sing at all in our time at the castle. I suspect it would make her a little more approachable. But that may not be what she wants. I’ve heard she was quite a talented singer though...”

As she kept talking, the needle had stilled in your hands, your body freezing at the sudden revelation. Lady Dimitrescu, a singer? Surely not. 

“..Are you alright?”

You snapped out of your thoughts, thinking of how she would sound, what she would sing, and if you would ever get to hear her sing. 

“Yes, yes I’m fine.” You kept pushing the needle through the fabric, trying to remain calm. You felt your body tingle as you remembered the way she wanted to hear you sing. “I have to say, it is quite surprising.”

“Our Lady is definitely full of surprises.” She patted your shoulder before leaving you to your thoughts and your half-stitched handiwork. You weren’t sure if you’d be able to focus on any tasks for the rest of the day now.

Later that night, you hurried to sneak through the hallways on your way to your Lady’s bedchambers. You really didn’t want anyone to see you on the way, since you had no supplies to have an excuse of a chore to be done this time. There was one maid who caught your eye, and she gave you a curious once-over as you walked by in your nicest dress, looking like you were going out rather than going to bed. 

When you got to the door of the room, your heart was thundering in your chest. Your hands had gotten sweaty, and you didn’t understand what was so stressing for you. She had seen every inch of you already, had stripped you on top of the piano, and made you come like you never had before.

You delicately rapped your knuckles on the door, and waited for long, agonizing moments for a response. When none came, you became curious. You turned the door handle and pushed. It opened with no resistance, and there seemed to be no noise coming from inside the room.

You poked your head inside, and was once again astounded by the sheer size of the room. Against your better judgment, you slipped inside and shut the door behind you. Being early was always a good thing, you decided.

Since Lady Dimitrescu wasn’t there yet, you had time to take it in. You were drawn to the massive bed, and the dark red sheets that adorned it. Probably the best colour choice, you figured, considering the high risks of blood stains on any surface in the entire castle. 

You approached and ran a hand over the edge of the fabric, marvelling at its silkiness and expensive textures. It reminded you of everything Lady Dimitrescu liked to wear; expensive, silky, smooth...

The door slammed open, ripping the quiet thought out of your brain, and there stood Lady Dimitrescu. Her expression was fuming, angry, but it didn’t seem to be directed at you, because the minute she saw you standing in the room, it softened in confusion. Like she had forgotten you’d be coming.

You let go of the sheets and clasped your hands behind your back, curtsying quickly in fear of her anger and not wanting to step out of line. She nearly scoffed at you, and took a few long strides to the vanity, sitting down heavily on the bench.

“Help me with my dress.” Her tone was curt, demanding. You paled a little, thinking this night wasn’t gonna go how you expected it to, but still doing as she said. You were a maid, after all.

With her seated, it was easier to reach the buttons along her back, and you made quick work of them. But when you stepped back and she didn’t make any move to get out of her seat, you realized she wanted you to get the entire garment off her.

Her pointed gaze at you in the mirror disappeared from view as you approached the open back and pushed the two halves of the dress aside like peeling delicate fruit. You couldn’t help it; you ran your hands along the thick skin of her back as the dress fell off her shoulders, revealing a tantalizing bra clasp right at eye level that you could have undone quickly if you wanted to.

“You’re being quite bold, little one,” Lady Dimitrescu finally spoke, her voice deep, sultry, but not gentle like it had been last night. There was an iciness to it that stung. Your hands had been lingering a little too long on her skin.

“Forgive me, my lady,” you said, stepping away as she got up to her full height and let the dress pool at her feet. You saw heels in your view and stockings raking up long legs, but you didn’t dare look any higher. 

“Oh, pet. I didn’t mean to frighten you.” She ran a hand over your head and walked past you. Your instincts kicked in and you picked up the dress to fold tidily on the vanity’s bench. The slightest touch from her fingers made you shiver, and a blush crept up the back of your neck.

“Look at me, sweetling.”

You turned around to face the bed, where she was sitting, one leg swung over the other, hands perched behind her on the mattress. Yellow eyes looked at you and you gulped for air at the sight of her.

“You’re allowed to look, darling. It would be a bit inconvenient if you weren’t.”

Your cheeks were burning now, but you finally let your eyes wander down her frame. Her lingerie was the epitome of femininity, yet dark and sultry, just like her. The black lace hugged her curves. Her stockings were held up by a garter belt, and she kicked off her heels with one smooth jerk of her legs. 

Her tummy folded in when she was seated, and her thighs, though muscular and lean, were thick and looked strong enough to crush your entire body if she wanted to.

“Come here.” That familiar voice zapped through you and you approached the bed, briefly wondering if what you had heard about her singing talents were true. You supposed it wouldn’t surprise you. As a lady of her standard, learning an instrument or musical skill must’ve been a required lesson for her etiquette. 

She picked you up to sit in her lap, and you squeaked in surprise as she lifted you once again. A chuckle rang throughout the room and you looked up at her, relieved to see the earlier anger had dissipated from her gaze when she looked at you.

“I’m glad you’re here. I had almost forgotten you were coming,” she said, running hands soothingly over your thighs as you straddled her. “I apologize if I was a bit of a sight when I arrived. The staff in this castle is somewhat... incompetent at times.”

So it was the staff that had made her angry. Did another maid try to escape? Enter the cellar? Was there an errand boy that couldn’t keep his hands off of one of the new deliveries? 

Her head lowered to breathe in your scent, lingering right by your ear. You let out a heavy sigh at the feeling of her so close to her, and you reached out to grip her upper arms that framed your body. You ran your fingers along her skin, and she recoiled for a moment, pulling away.

You froze. Did you do something wrong? Fear etched in your eyes, you looked up at the Countess, wondering if you stepped out of line for touching her. Then her gaze focused in on you and she seemed to relax a little.

“Don’t stop.”

Was it a request? An order? You didn’t mind either way, because now your hungry hands ran over her, feeling the dimples and ridges of scars and stretched skin all over. You explored with your hands as much as you did with your eyes, gazing at her cleavage, the curve of her neck, the muscles in her shoulders. 

You ran a hand over her tummy, feeling softness and subconsciously prodding it a little with your fingertip. She giggled at the feeling. Giggled. Her body jostled a bit, moving you about. You liked the feeling and the softness, so kept your hands there.

“I can see a question in your eyes, little one,” Lady Dimitrescu purred, combing a hand through your hair. You cast your gaze downward, running a hand over her skin repeatedly, familiarizing yourself with the patterns of the stretch marks.

“Just.. something I heard today.”

“And what was that?”

You squirmed uncomfortably. “I’m not sure if you want to hear.”

A finger tipped your chin up to her piercing eyes, “I doubt it’ll go unnoticed by me, sweetling. Even if you don’t tell me now, I will hear about it.”

Your mouth went a little dry at that. She was right, nothing happened in this castle without her knowing about it, but goodness... the power behind those words made you weak in the knees. Thank heavens you were sitting. 

“I was told you used to be a singer.”

An amused look crossed her face. “Is that it? I was expecting you to announce a mutiny at hand.”

You shrugged slightly, delighted in the way her hand reached to cup the back of your neck, a thumb running over your throat. “I was hardly a singer, darling. But yes, I used to.. dabble in performance. Long ago.”

“Is that why you were so interested in my singing?” 

She grinned, teeth gleaming. “I was interested in your singing because I was interested in you, little songbird.”

She tugged you impossibly closer, leaning down and running her wicked tongue over where her hand had just been on your neck. 

“W-will I ever get to hear you?” you managed to huff out, because now her firm hands were holding your middle, exploring your body the way you had been exploring hers.

“Is that what you want? To hear me sing?”

You nodded, because the low timbre of her voice was reverberating throughout your whole body, and you suddenly needed to hear it singing a tune.

“Perhaps... if you indulge me like I had indulged your last night, you may get to hear me sing too.”

You felt the tips of your ears nearly burst into flames, but you were so desperate... so eager to please. You nearly dropped down to the floor to get on your knees. 

She chuckled, “not so fast. I have a better idea.”

Lady Dimitrescu shuffled back on the bed until she was up against the pillows. Shoving a pillow under her lower back, she crooked a finger to beckon you closer, spreading her legs. The sight of her, half in candle light, spread out for you this time, but still in charge, made you swoon.

You crawled towards her and pressed your lips against the inside of her knee. She rocked her hips a little at the feeling of your warm, small mouth on her body, and fisted a hand in your hair.

“I really won’t need any foreplay, dear,” she said in a hushed tone. “Give me your mouth.”

You raced to tug the black lace panties off of her long legs, and were met with the sight of slick, swollen flesh. A carnal desire overtook you, and you surged forwards to press your mouth against her, desperate to taste.

A soft ‘oh’ escaped the giantess at your eagerness and your soft tongue tasting her arousal without hesitation. She enjoyed teasing you, yes, making you beg and dance around the sexual gratification she could give you. But this, your hunger and desire to please, made her warm all over.

“Good girl,” she said softly as your tongue began flicking over her swollen clit, lightly and experimentally. Your hands gripped the inside of her thighs, keeping them steady and spread. She was able to look down at you, and realized her rough gripping had made your hair come undone, causing curls and locks to drop down, loose and wild. Your eyes met hers, pupils dilated, and then you sucked. 

The high-pitched cry that escaped her was broken and sudden, and it made your body flood with arousal. Your legs trembled a little, the space between your legs begging for attention.

“Oh, who would have thought you’d be so good with your tongue, sweetling?” Lady Dimitrescu moaned, “I knew you were talented.. but that mouth...”

Her sentence was left unfinished, and she bit her lip, groaning softly in the back of her throat as you kept going. Your fingers rubbed her folds, teased her entrance, kissing and sucking until you could find a rhythm that made her squeak.

A nip at the hood of her clit made her gasp delightfully, so you did it again. The hand in your hair pressed down to bury your face in her cunt.

“Wicked girl,” she growled, and you moaned against her, your face wet. “Don’t you dare stop now.”

You pressed harder, one hand pushing three fingers at her entrance without any resistance as they slid inside. Your brain wasn’t working enough to keep up the pace of both, so you curled them and pressed against that soft, swollen frontal wall, scratching with the pads of your fingertips.

She nearly howled, a string of soft curses and... were those pleads? Her eyes were screwed shut, and you looked up at her strong, soft body. You couldn’t help but reach down and rub yourself through the fabrics of your clothes with your other hand. 

Eventually she noticed when she opened her eyes again, and she chuckled, making a point of slowly rolling her pelvis into your face. 

“Couldn’t keep your own hands off of yourself?” she said, her voice slurred with arousal. You made a whiny sound, restrained by your tongue and mouth against her cunt.

“I want you to come with me,” she gasped, her thick thighs beginning to shake from approaching her orgasm. You rubbed yourself even harder, eager to do as she said. 

Her usually-reserved voice came out in whimpers and low growls, and you sucked hard at her clit again, pressing your fingers deep inside, and her whole body instantly convulsed. 

Her cries of pleasure and incoherent words of praise made you topple over the edge shortly after. Her well-kept hair was undone, her mascara a little smeared, and her hands were digging painfully into your scalp. She let go once the last tremors left her body, and you relaxed against her thigh, breathing in her smell and kissing her everywhere you could reach.

“Well done, little songbird,” she cooed, eventually managing to open her eyes again and look at you. “You really are too precious for words.”

You blushed. You extracted your hand from between your legs, grimacing a little at the stickiness of your clothes.

“Let’s get you out of those,” Lady Dimitrescu whispered softly. You let her hands lift you up like you weighed nothing, and strip you.

“But- work...” you made a feeble attempt to get up, but she tutted, holding you closely to her chest, your head resting on her breasts. 

“Nonsense. You will stay the night here. You’re in no state to return to your duties yet.” She spoke curtly again, meaning there was no room for argument, but the soft throb between your legs and the haziness of your sated mind already left you limp and jelly-like. You wouldn’t have made it out the door without collapsing even if you did try to leave.

And so, you were bundled up in her arms, the blankets pulled up around your trembling form. She had pulled out a book from her nightstand and let you relax against her body as she flicked through the pages, a quiet peace filling the atmosphere around you. And then you heard it.

With your head pressed against her chest, you heard the rumble of her voice under your ear, and then her soft humming filled the room. You held your breath as you listened to the low, baritone-like notes, and the occasional page flipping of her book. 

You didn’t know the song, didn't know if it came with words, or if she had come up with it right now, but it made your heart flutter. Did she know you were still awake? 

Eventually, a hand came off of the book and pressed on your head, helping you settle against her warmed skin a little more, and then she spoke,

“Sleep, little songbird. There’ll be plenty of times for you to hear me later.”

A/N: It really doesn’t take much to convince me to write more of a series when I love them as much as this one ;) I hope you have ~enjoyed~

[katsukikitten]

Aight yall know the rules. 18 PLUS. Minor DNI, this was written for and helped to be dreamed up by @kingkatsuki who is always down to simp over Bakugou with me. Drummer!Bakugou x kindagroupy fem reader. Warnings include lots of smut and impact play. 💋🐱

Welts and bruises were hardly seen beneath the black swirling ink that snaked from a thick wrist all the way up a banded arm to nestle itself just barely over a normally guarded heart. Your fingers grip at drumsticks as you look over a certain hot head, unsure of your relationship status other than the fact that he used you to bring himself down from the height of the show. 

Just like he did a month ago at a meet and greet. Glaring at your stupid rare band shirt that featured him instead of his band mates. "No one gives a fuck about the drummer. It's why I'm the fucking drummer so I don't have to deal with mindless extras."  

To be honest it was his first time seeing that shirt since production, signing all 70 in existence half heartedly. You recall how agitated he was, obviously forced to this meet and greet when normally there were rumors that he never shows. He twirls his drumstick in his large fingers to keep from exploding as Kirishima, Jiro and Denki entertain the snobby VIPs. You had been lucky enough to win your ticket in a radio drawing and even though Bakugou wasn't talking much, not that you expected him too, it was nice to be there. 

Nice to have his garnet gaze cutting into your skin even if it was just harsh glares. It takes Kirishima a minute to figure out just why Bakugou hasn't left yet. His own glistening rubies roaming the small group of five until they land on you. The devil settles himself in Kirshima's skin as he stands, a rare and cocky smirk adornes his lips. He sits next to you, practically on top of you and your cheeks flush from the closeness of your second favorite band mate. You can smell the linger sweat from the show, musk and dark pine needles tickle your nose as you swallow desire whole. Choking just a bit as he leans closer. His calloused digits finger the hem of your shirt, pulling it away from your body a bit to inspect it more closely. 

"Ah, that's a sight to see." He chuckles, eyeing the shirt that has a shirtless Bakugou in action, sticks raised as he sits over his precious drum set, "This is from one of our first real gigs." 

"I know. The drumming interlude while Jiro rested her strained voice was so energizing. After that amazing show I had to buy a t-shirt of my favorite member! But they didn't have any at the show. It was hard finding this." Suddenly Bakugou's gaze becomes too much, leaving you feeling hot and bothered as the room seemed to smell like spiced caramel. What little ease you felt by Kirishima was devoured by the brooding blonde sitting on his throne of well worn leather. Gulping, you turn to face Kirishima a bit more as he chuckles again. 

"You don't want sour puss as your favorite. How about I make you a deal huh?" The room goes a little quiet as the other VIPs feign interest to hear. After a moment you nod a bit nervously fighting to keep your gaze on Kirishima. Meanwhile Bakugou tongues his lip ring with irritation.

"Why don't we trade shirts? I'll give you mine for yours?" He says, large hand gripping at the fabric at the nape of his neck. Pulling it off in one swift motion, setting it gently in your hands. The fabric a bit damp from the show, tingling pine masks your senses as you grip at the black fabric. 

Would it be rude to turn down a rock star? 

Just as you're about to find out the blonde stands, all eyes wide and set on his godly figure. His abs peeking out from beneath his infamous sleeveless and tattered black denim vest. 

The same one you wore now. You remember how he dragged you from the room and showed you just exactly who your favorite band member. Not knowing he played right into Kirishima's hand. 

Even now he still gets possessive when Kirishima comes too close. Pushing the guitarist and side vocals harshly away as Bakugou comes to close to you, cornering you against a sidewall backstage. 

"Hey Brat. Are you flirting with fire engine again?" His face says pissed but his tone is all tease. He nips at your ear before gripping your hair to tilt your head, exposing your neck to him. He licks a stripe up the column relishing how you taste before leaving a gasp inducing bite. Pink indents and a beautiful bruise bloom in his wake. Absentmindedly his thumb swipes over the mark gently. 

"Did you hurt yourself Suki?" You ask softly, hands having discovered just how raised those welts were. He watches the worry stain your features, pulling your bottom lip into a delightful pout. He leans down to your face, pulling at the jutting lip and giving it a small bite. Your skin erupts in heat, surging through your body until it settles in between your legs.  He pulls back, giving you his signature arrogant smirk. 

"Oi, don't get so worked up Princess. I'll show you how I got them after this set." He takes the drumsticks from your grip giving you a final, searing kiss before he makes his way on stage. Always the first to get the crowd hyped up as everyone else got situated. 

Anyone who had seen the same set of songs performed twice weekly for a month might have used the word bored to describe how they were feeling as they waited for the band to finish. 

But you were not like most people, see these 90 minutes that sometimes stretched into two hours was equivalent to a strip tease for you. Always having to shift your weight with the passing of each song, trying to get some friction for the heat that he caused at your core. His ash blonde hair would become darker, losing his spiky nature as it drooped from the weight of caramel scented bliss, the stands sticking to his skin causing him to push it back, exposing his forehead. His black shirt would darken as well, agitating the hot head as it clung to his muscles, sticking to skin and trying to throw off his rhythm. Between a song he places one of his drumsticks in his mouth, letting his large hand tear at the shirt until he can shed it off as if it were a second skin. 

The crowd always roars with excitement as the camera zooms in on him. On his dark eyes and glistening pecs. The ink of his arms and just barely over his pectorals sends a jolt of electricity through you, mouth salivating as you remember them hovering over you the night before. 

You clench around nothing, underwear becoming uncomfortable in your pleated skirt as you pull the well worn denim closer to you as you wait. 

Finally the show ends with Jiro giving all of her love to the crowd, to Kirishima and Denki rifting notes off of corded strings as Bakugou guides them with his ever steady beat. Slamming onto the symbols, foot bass and the drums, sweat flying from him as he moves. 

"Until we meet again!" They scream and the crowd echoes back their famous saying. 

Bakugou practically runs off stage, damp with caramel bliss as he rushes to you. Hunched over so he can scoop you up, giving you a twirl as he hoisted you into the air. Banded arms resting under your ass. 

"Did you see me out there, kitten?" His voice is rasped as he pants, laced in rare and genuine excitement. His skin sticking to your skirt and shirt as he brings you down to your black converse. He kisses you hungrily, gasping between kisses trying to catch his breath as he clings onto you with shaking fingers. 

"I'm always watching, king." You reply between swipes of his tongue. 

"Skipping the meet and greet again Bakugou? Manager Todoroki won't be happy." Kirishima comments, his voice softer than normal, his own dyed hair sticking to his skin. 

"Fuck him. It's an hour from now anyway dick head. I'll be in later." Bakugou growls back, as you push hair from his face to better see his eyes and his forehead. He lifts your giggling form again as he takes you back to his room. 

Neither of you hear Kirishima's comment to Jiro. 

"Have you ever seen him so in love?" 

The darkness of the room and the smell of you are soothing to Bakugou, his body still a live wire from the show as he tries to get a second wind so he can please you. He knows what his performance does to you, having come back to you soaking through your panties. Just as you were now, still his endurance was tested this week with three shows in a row. 

"Maybe you should-" 

"No." It comes out as a growl as he slowly begins to strip you of your clothes. Leaving you in nothing but his favorite skirt, he pushes you to lean over the futon, flipping up your skirt so he can see your bare sex. 

"God you're such a dirty slut." He sees your sex and thighs glistening with your slick, he lets his fingers collect your essence before swirling over that sensitive bud. 

"F...fuck Katuski." You cry out, hips bucking against him already before he leans over your body, his hard on poking your through his black jeans. 

"Still wanna see how I got these bruises baby?" He pants, even fingering you was taking effort but he wanted, needed to see you panting, begging beneath him. 

"Y..yes yes please!" His fingers still working as he's pressed against you, the coil in your stomach snapping as you see stars. Shaking beneath him as he puts you through two more. Slick pulling away from your sex in strings causing him to lick his fingers dry, holding eye contact with you as you shudder. 

Eye liner already starting to smudge as your mouth falls open into a mewl. He reaches for the wooden sticks in his back pocket. He removes one, the stick nicked and scuffed in various spots from the intensity of tonight's show.  He rubs your ass with his large palm before letting a harsh smack land on your supple cheek. Repeating the process until your cheeks glowed bright red. He lets the smooth wood run across your burning ass before he tests it with a light whack. Trying to remember how it felt against his own skin wanting to keep the damage at a minimum.  The precise impact causes you to jolt and whine. 

"More, I need more." You cry again and again as he let's the wood impact on your tender cheeks. Alternating sides while rubbing where he just hit  

"Yea? Such a greedy slut." Getting lost in your begging he brings down the drumstick a little too harshly, his mind hazed from the lingering show and from the pull of you. The stick snaps in half causing a bruising welt to rise at an alarming rate. Growling he tosses the stick aside, coming down to kiss and bite at your ass tenderly. You push your hips in the air. 

"Katsuki, baby. Please, please fuck me." You beg as tears fall down your perfect cheeks. 

"Fine, but." He pants slowly freeing himself as he lets the head of his cock stretch your sentence, "But only to cockwarm." 

"Noooo!" You whine, squirming as he plunges himself into your velvety walls, already setting a slow pace just to feel you clench against him if anything. 

"Please, please King. I want more. I need you to fill me, Katsuki, please." 

"I'll fucking give it to you brat." He snaps, the sight of you was too much.  Peering over your shoulder, eye liner smeared, hair sticking to your face as your mouth formed that perfect O. He throws caution to the wind and gives in to instinct, to you. 

He sets a harsh pace, his body shaking from exertion as he pounds into you with sloppy haste. Being much more vocal than usual as he grunts and groans allowing your tight cunt to pull him in. The sounds of your arousal echoes through the room as your feet come off the floor, squeezing your thighs around Bakugou to keep him close. Slowly you become limp letting him fuck into you before tensing as he hits that damned spongy spot. Causing stars to catch in your vision and the sounds of his groaning send you over the edge. 

"I'm gonna-" But you never finish it as a scream rips up your throat causing your voice to go hoarse. Your spasming cunt sends the hot head into a groaning tangent. His hips pistons into your soaking heat sloppily before they stutter. His hands gripping at your hips, body shaking the way yours normally does after a heavy session. He pants your walls in ropes of delicious hot cum, the action causing you to whimper.

In what feels like too a short time to Bakugou but the perfect amount to you, he withdrawals from you. Watching you twitch as his seed slips out. Gently he pushes it back in, before gathering some on his digits determined to make you cum a few more times until he is ready to go again.

Bucking and crying trying to squeeze your thighs to shut him away but he spreads you out until his fingers pull something special from you. Body so tense that if touched wrong you might shatter. 

And shatter you do as a silent scream escapes your lips, a clear liquid squirting onto his inky arm and black clothes.

"Ah, kitten I wanted you to squirt on my cock." He coos, rubbing slow sensual circles to bring you down slowly. Rubbing your ass, sure to check on your battered cheek, damning himself for losing control. He lifts you up, turning you to face him as you cling to him, arms crushing him to your smaller frame. 

"You okay Princess?" He asks, peppering kisses atop your head causing tears to burn your eyes. You choke out the question you had been meaning to ask since that first night. 

"What am I to you?" Your voice shakes as badly as your body, as if you were freezing from a chill. He tenses beneath you and you think you've crossed the line. Before you can backtrack he pushes you away from him to grab your chin. Leveling your face to his as he stares into your soul. 

"My fucking everything." He growls out, voice worn from overuse, "How else can I show you?" 

His thumb wipes away a few stray tears as you process what he has said. 

"I gave you my lucky vest didn't I?" You giggle at his question, nodding in agreement. He pulls you into a hug, eyes glaring at the clock. 

"Stay." He commands rushing to the sink to dampen a rag in warm water. He starts with your face, clearing it of the black eye liner. Slowly making his way down your body until he gets to your sticky sex. Wiping away his essence and yours before pressing a soft kiss to your hair line. He tosses the rag into the sink and rummages through your duffle bag returning with the shirt that started it all. A kiss is pressed to the black fabric before he slips over your head, sliding his lucky vest onto your strong shoulders before he adjusts your skirt. Twirling you in a mock dance to check for stains on your skirt, when he sees none he dresses himself pressing a water into your hand. You bite your lip thinking he's going to leave you here. 

"Sorry but you gotta come with me to the meet and greet since you've got this on." He tugs at the black denim causing you to giggle. Relief floods his aching body as your lips curl into a bright smile. 

True to his word Bakugou slips into the long meet and greet with you in tow an hour and a half after he started. 

"Here's your fucking sticks kid." He says, shoving a set of drumsticks into some snobby kids hands. The man scoffs with a retort. 

"I paid for the ones you used tonight. These ones are brand new." 

Bakugou narrows his eyes at him, leaning in close as if you share a secret but he speaks at a normal volume. His face suddenly changing to a cocky, knowing smirk. 

"Guess I broke tonight's pair kid. Tough fucking luck."

He sits in his normal spot, away from others. Pulling you onto his lap, reminding the room that he was taken. 

[danakin-skywalker]

Nightingale (Danny Wagner Fluff)

Warning: Descriptions of minor medical procedures (needles, fluids, etc nothing too graphic though)

Taglist:  @flowervanfleet @weightofdreams-gvf @sierraahhhh @jakekiszska​ @amourleger @ageofsewingmachine@theweightofstardust @samkiszkabreakmyback @prettyintopeerpressure @greta-flanveet  @fosterkidwiththebrokenjaw​ @the-chaotic-cow​ @ghostly-luck​ @mywaysooon​ @tlexx​​ @screechesincoherently​ and potentially you, just lmk!

(A/N): Hi I am still unable to cope after today’s Danny eyeliner pic but on with the program it’s been far too long since I’ve posted any writing.

Okay, this is an idea I’ve had floating around my head for a while now but I haven’t been able to decide which boy I wanted to pair it with. I’ve always been fascinated with the concept of Florence Nightingale Syndrome, and the reverse of it. If you’re unfamiliar, it’s a phenomenon in which a caregiver (typically medical) develops feelings for the person they’re treating, and/or vice versa. Basically, in this story, Danny is continually going back to the medic at a venue because of his “blisters,” but the guys can clearly see that he’s a little too excited to be treated. I suppose this plot is more of a meet-cute than anything, but I just love the idea of Danny being nervous around a girl but also trying to flirt with her. Also I tried my best to research correctly but if any of the medical information is inaccurate, I’m sorry I literally could not be further from a doctor.

I hope you enjoy! I’ll go back to my requests after this one!

**************************************************

Nightingale

The life of a concert venue medic was always an exciting one, but typically not this early in the evening. Your training was usually put to use midway through shows, when you were doting on overwhelmed and dehydrated fans who had collapsed in the pit, or burly men who had gotten into fistfights. It was pretty rare that you were actually interacting with the talent themselves. That is, until Greta Van Fleet was slated for a show at your venue.

You were familiar with the band, having heard about them a few months ago on TikTok, but you hadn’t really looked into them enough to know them by sight. So when Danny Wagner walked into your tent, you didn’t know who you were dealing with. 

You looked up from the table of supplies you were organizing in preparation for the night’s events, and you froze in place when your eyes met his. You were immediately taken by his appearance, his long raven locks cascading down his shoulders, framing his gentle eyes and toned arms that poked out of his T-shirt. His eyebrows raised slightly at the sudden eye contact. “Hi! Um, I’m looking for the medic?” He asked, uncertainty in his voice.

You raised an eyebrow back at him and leaned up to a fully standing position, placing your hands on your hips. “And you’ve found me. What can I do for you?”

Danny raised brows in response, “You’re the medic?”

You couldn’t help but chuckle at his disbelief, “Try to contain your shock, but yes, I am.” You couldn’t bring it in yourself to be surprised. Your age and gender was often a surprise to the people who came through your tent. You’d had this exact interaction with more people who walked through those flaps in the tent entrance than you could count.

Danny shook his head, knocking himself out of his apparent daze. “Sorry, that was rude, I shouldn’t have made assumptions. Of course you’re the medic, you’re the only one here.” He gestured around the empty tent and you nodded.

You shrugged and looked back down to fiddle with the gauze pad on the table in front of you, “That’s alright, I’m used to it. You never answered my question though...” You drew your eyes back up to his and spent a moment just staring at each other before continuing, “You did come here for a reason right?”

Danny’s eyes flashed wider and he finally approached the table, pulling his hands out of his pockets. “OH! Yeah. I have these blisters I was hoping you could tape up for me.” 

You took his hands in yours and turned them around, tracing your fingers lightly along the raised skin he was referring to. You didn’t notice his breaths begin to shallow as you studied his skin closely. He blinked in surprise when you whipped your head back up to meet his gaze. “Are you a drummer?”

“I- Yeah, I’m performing tonight.”

Now it was your turn to get flustered. You could feel the blood rushing to your face as you realized you had potentially insulted paid talent. “Oh my God, right, of course. I’m so sorry I didn’t realize-”

Danny raised one of his hands from yours to silence you. “Really, it’s fine. You can’t know everybody. We’re even now.” He cracked a smile at you and you felt butterflies erupt in your stomach as you returned it with a small smile of your own. You both stood there like that for a few moments before you remembered the task at hand.

“Right! Okay, let’s see what I have for you.” You crouched back down to look through your plastic bins of various first-aid supplies. You could feel Danny’s eyes on you but you tried to focus on finding something that could help him. You stood back up for a second and reached back out to take Danny’s hands in yours, making him chuckle.

“Okay, some of these are pretty minor so I should just be able to tape them up. But these...” You ghosted your fingertips over a particularly painful-looking, fluid-filled blister across the area where his pointer finger met his thumb on his palm. “These you might wanna let me drain and bandage so they don’t burst on stage.”

This made Danny stiffen. You looked up and caught the wince on his face, “Yeah, I’d love to avoid that if possible. It’s happened before and I almost destroyed my drum kit it hurt so bad.”

You bit your lip in sympathy and redirected your gaze back to his hands, identifying in your head which blisters needed to be drained and which didn’t. It was really just that one area on both hands. You reached your fingers around and slightly pressed against the edges of his hands until they mimicked the shape of holding a drumstick. All of the blisters lined up, except for a few strays on his fingertips. You opened his hand back up and moved your fingers up to those curiously, and Danny cleared his throat.

“I... uh, I golf too. That’s where those are from. I forgot my glove the other day.” He reached a hand up to scratch the back of his head as you dropped his hands, nodding in understanding.

“Well those don’t look too serious either. Here, c’mon.” You gestured to the fold-up chair on the side of the table, which he went and sat on compliantly as you pulled out some medical tape, gauze, iodine, vaseline and a needle. 

You picked up the hand sanitizer bottle that was next to your chair and squirted some onto your hands before holding the bottle out to Danny. He stared at you for a moment before realizing what you were asking. “Oh, right.” He mumbled as he held out his hand for you to squirt some sanitizer in, making you smile. He was certainly nervous, but you couldn’t tell why yet. 

You engaged in small talk as you swabbed his hands with iodine and sterilized the needle. It wasn’t until you approached his hands with the needle and he jerked back that you realized part of the reason why he was so nervous. You put the needle back down and looked back up at him curiously.

He let out a shaky laugh, “Sorry, I’m not great with needles.”

You let your head tilt slightly in sympathy. This tall and strong looking man looked like a deer in headlights over a tiny sliver of metal. You leaned in and rested your elbows onto the table. “Listen, the skin on this blister has already lifted from the other layers of skin. It’s no longer attached to any nerve endings. You won’t even feel a thing.” You spoke in your most comforting nurse-voice, the one your mom always used to use with you right before she had to douse your scraped knee with peroxide.

He nodded, looking down at the grass below his feet. “You’re right... You’re right, I don’t know why I get so nervous. Ever since I was a kid. I think it’s just seeing it that does it for me.”

You shrugged your shoulders, an idea hatching in your brain. “Okay, don’t look at your hands then, look at me.” You daringly reached out to tilt his chin up, bringing his gaze back to yours. You re-situated his hands so that his elbows were leaning against the table but his hands were opened, facing out toward your face. 

You looked back up at Danny and smiled shyly, before whipping out your favorite trick in the book, “Tell me what color my eyes are, drummer.”

You reached over and grabbed the needle and some gauze as he leaned in, watching your eyes dart calculatedly across his hand. “They’re... brown aren’t they?”

You smirked as you lightly punctured the first blister. “Look closer.” You raised the gauze up to the blister as you removed the needle, letting the fluid drain out onto the material.

Your eyes flitted up to Danny’s and stopped there for a moment, transfixed by his own eyes as he studied yours deeply. “They’re like... oh wow. You’ve got like every color in there.”

You giggled to yourself as you moved to his other hand and started repeating the same process. “Tell me what you see. I can’t see them myself, you know?”

He smirked and leaned in closer as you continued your task, “Well around the pupils, that’s definitely brown. But the outside... Is that blue or green?”

You finished up your work and used your hands to will his down onto the table, turning them on their backs to face up. 

“Bit of both. It’s called heterochromia. I got it from my mom. Anyway, congrats soldier, the worst is over.” You smiled at Danny and watched him process your words, before looking down to the deflated blisters on his hands. 

“Oh wow, you were right I didn’t even notice!” He exclaimed. You laughed and reached for the vaseline, unscrewing the top and scooping out a small glob of the clear substance.

“I told you!” You responded proudly, grinning at your distracting abilities as you slathered the vaseline onto his wounds. You gently pressed fresh gauze onto the deflated blisters before taking the medical tape in your hands, looking back up at Danny.

“I’m gonna just tape up the rest of them, okay?” He nodded back at you, still looking deeply into your eyes whenever they lifted to his. You tried to contain your blush as you felt his eyes on you while you littered tape across his hand.

“Okay, so the bad news is, nothing really likes to stick to palms. So you might have to come back if these start lifting before your show, and I can reinforce them. You still have a couple hours right?”

Danny’s eyes lit up for a moment at the prospect of returning, but he immediately toned down his expression to respond with a nonchalant, “Yeah, for sure. I probably will need to come back after sound check, before I’m trapped on stage for a few hours. I can never seem to keep this kind of stuff on, ya know?”

You let out a giggle before you could think twice about it, “Oh, I’m sure.” A smile grew onto Danny’s face at the sound.

There was a few moments of silence before you stood back up. “Well, unless there’s anything else ailing you today I think you’re all set.”

Danny jumped up too, a light flush across his cheeks, “Oh, right. Yeah that’s all for now. Thank you, really, for being so cool about the needle thing. And for fixing me up.” Danny held up his hand to gesture to at the last part as he walked backwards toward the entrance.

You waved him off with a bashful smile, “No problem, drummer.”

He stopped at the entrance, holding open the flap and letting the sunbeams cascade into the tent from behind him. He looked borderline angelic and you had to consciously keep your jaw from falling open at the sight. “It’s Danny, by the way.”

You managed a smile and nodded, “Well it’s nice to meet you, Danny. I’m Y/N.”

Danny grinned and looked down in thought. “Y/N. I like that name. Until we meet again, Y/N!” He sent you a wave and dipped out of sight.

You plopped onto your plastic chair and heaved out a breath, exhausted by whatever the fuck that just was.

Meanwhile, Danny was all but skipping to the stage as he smiled down at the bandages on his hand, thinking about how soft her fingers were against his skin. He jumped a bit when Sam appeared next to him, shoving his face next to his to see what he was looking at. “Oh good, you got them taped up. What’s with the gauze?”

Danny looked up, trying not to smile, “Oh, she said she needed to drain these ones so they wouldn’t burst onstage like that one time.”

Sam hissed in memory. None of the boys liked thinking about that night. “Yikes, yeah probably for the best then. Are those gonna stay on though? We get pretty sweaty.”

This time, Danny let a small smile make its way to his lips. “Nah, I’ll probably have to go back and have her redo them at some point.”

This time, Sam’s eyebrow arched in interest, having caught the pronoun. “Oh so it’s a ladyyyy……” He dragged out the last word in a teasing tone, making Danny retaliate with a half-hearted shove. “How’d she get you to let her poke your hands?”

Danny chuckled, looking back down at the bandages. “I hardly even noticed when she did them, she’s really good. And she has these crazy beautiful eyes too.”

Sam didn’t respond for a moment and Danny looked back up to see him giving him the biggest, cheesiest grin.

Danny started backtracking, “I mean, she did this thing where she made me tell her the color of her eyes while she did it, but it was like a trick question because her eyes are somehow ALL of the colors and before I knew it she was done. I’m not being weird or anything.” He said defensively as he headed over to his drum kit, passing Josh on the way.

“Not being weird about what?” He joined in, turning to Sam for an explanation.

Sam crossed his arms with a smug look, “Daniel here is talking about his amazing experience in the medic tent just now. Apparently the medic has ‘crazy beautiful eyes.’” Sam raised a hand to use air quotes around the last bit, causing Josh to arch a brow.

“Oh, but not in a weird way?”

“Of course not, never. Not our Daniel.”

Danny rolled his eyes at the two Kiszkas ganging up on him. “Guys, relax. She fixed my hands and I’m grateful. Are we gonna warm up? Where’s Jake?”

Josh barked out a laugh, “Wow, Danny I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so excited to warm up. Eager to loosen those bandages are we?”

Danny just rolled his eyes in response as Jake made his way onto the stage at the sound of his name.

But of course, Josh had been exactly right. Danny found himself going a little harder than usual during warm up and sound check, hoping the guys wouldn’t notice and catch on. And sure enough, by the time they left the stage, he could feel his clammy palms lifting the medical tape from his skin.

He threw on his stage outfit as quickly as possible before darting out the door, hoping to avoid catching the eye of his teasing bandmates.

You looked up in surprise once again at the flaps of your tent entrance ruffling, indicating that another pre-show medical situation needed tending to. But alas, upon meeting his gaze you smiled when you realized it was in fact the same medical situation.

“Hmmm back already? Are my bandaging skills already failing you?” You offered with a smile as you leaned against the table.

Danny shook his head. “No, no, you did a great job. I’m just a menace when it comes to my hands.” As he approached the table, he held out his palms to you so you could see the lifted tape. The blisters around his fingers were still tightly taped up, but you had known from the start that the tape cascading across his palm that was holding the gauze to his hand would be a problem.

You sighed to yourself as you delicately ran your fingers over the area once more, missing Danny’s eyes fluttering shut at the sensation. “Hmmmm, this doesn’t bode well for your set. This was just from the sound check I just heard?”

Danny’s eyes snapped back open. “Yeah, you heard us?”

You flushed slightly and nodded, turning away to rummage through your medical equipment. “Mmhmm, this is a stadium sound system and I am on the premises. You sounded great, I’m excited to hear your full set.”

Danny wasted a brief moment being embarrassed by once again missing the obvious when talking to you, before letting your compliment paint his own cheeks pink. “Thanks. I wish you could come out and see us, but listening is still good.”

You chuckled, pulling a small glass bottle out of your bin. “Well, I gotta earn my stay somehow.”

Danny tilted his head in agreement before letting his eyes curiously fall down to the bottle in front of you. You gestured for him to sit back down in the chair you had him in before and he happily obliged.

You took his hand in yours again and started gently peeling away at the moistened tape. “Okay, so clearly medical tape isn’t the answer here. I’m gonna try some liquid bandage on these dry ones, that should hold you over at least until the show ends.”

Danny’s brows furrowed and he used his free hand to pick up the bottle to inspect it further. It almost looked like clear nail polish, you didn’t blame him for being confused.

“Liquid bandage? I’ve never heard of that.”

You shrugged. “It’s basically super glue.”

You nonchalantly dropped the hand you were holding to pluck the bottle out from his other hand and take off that bandage, completely ignoring the incredulous look on Danny’s face.

“I’m sorry, it’s basically what? Now I’m starting to question your expertise.”

You let out your second embarrassing giggle of the day in front of him, thankful to have your hands and eyes occupied by the task in front of you. “No, really. Did you know superglue was originally invented during World War II as a quick way to treat gunshot wounds on the battlefield? I mean think about it, nothing dries faster and once it’s dry it’s sure as hell not going anywhere. It wasn’t until after the war that they realized it made an even better adhesive… But yeah, there’s a life hack for you in case you’re ever in a bind.” Your voice trailed off by the end, realizing you had been rambling about something as boring as medical history.

But when you looked up, Danny was looking at you with wonder in his eyes. He was genuinely interested. “Wow, okay I’m not questioning your expertise anymore. Glue me up.” He lifted his hands higher off the table which made you laugh again.

“You got it, soldier.”

Once the liquid adhesive was on and set, and you had checked his range of motion, you begrudgingly sent him on his way. He made sure you knew how thankful he was for his treatment and your heart sank a bit when you remembered that’s truly all this was. Treatment. He was your patient and nothing more. This is your job, and he’s just trying to do his. You were sure he was just being nice.

And yet, you couldn’t help but look forward to seeing him again. So, before he could get out the door you called out, “Hey, remember to come back after your show so I can take that off. Those blisters need to breathe while you’re not actively creating friction against them by drumming.”

He let out a chuckle and turned around as he reached the tent’s entrance. “Oh I wouldn’t dare miss another opportunity to be in this tent.” He sent you a wink before disappearing through the flaps. You were thankful he did, because you had to be scarlet from how hard your heart was racing. Maybe he was more than just a patient.

Pretty soon, it was go time for everyone. Danny returned to the stage, explaining his absence with a display of his newly dressed hands and offering his bandmates the new bit of trivia he had just learned, only to earn a knowing look from the Kiszkas. Shortly after he left you were already starting to get fans in your tent who had passed out after hours of waiting in line. You did your best to console them and urge them to drink the water you provided as they wailed about the barricade.

As the night carried on, you smiled to yourself as you listened to the music being performed outside your tent while you worked. As you listened to the drum solo you couldn’t help but raise your eyebrows to nobody in particular at the sheer talent exhibited by the tall but slightly timid man you met today. You also hoped your liquid bandage had bonded as tightly as it looked like it had. Shaking the thoughts from your head, you tried to focus your attention on handing out ice packs and water bottles to the fans you were tending to.

Eventually you heard the show conclude and the fans started weaning out, so you began to put away some of your supplies you had used that night. However, you stopped yourself before you could finish, remembering with a smile that Danny was going to swing by.

Danny smiled too as he began to shed his stage clothes for his normal ones, thinking the same. Jake waltzed into Danny’s dressing room, making a beeline for the bottle of Jack on the counter, before turning to Danny as he buttoned his fly and reached for the T-shirt he was wearing before the show. “What got you all smiley over nothing?” He smirked, unscrewing and flicking the top off the bottle.

Danny flattened his shirt over his torso and looked up at Jake, holding up his hands with a downright gleeful look. “Gotta go get this bandage taken off.”

Jake raised his eyebrows and took a pull from the bottle, trying to suppress a chuckle. “Dude, are you gonna ask her out or what?”

Danny froze for a second, before reaching over and taking the bottle out of Jake’s hand. “I mean, I don’t know.” He shrugged, mind still racing. Sure, there had clearly been some chemistry. But you were both there to work. Danny really didn’t wanna be the kind of guy that got an HR claim filed against him for coming onto a venue employee. He took a long drink from the Jack as he continued to weigh his options.

Jake rolled his eyes. “Come on, you’re clearly into her and it really seems like she’s flirting with you. I say go for it.”

Danny handed the bottle back to Jake and sighed. Jake was right. It’s not like he couldn’t read a room, he wouldn’t even be considering this if he hadn’t absolutely picked up on a vibe.

Danny was once again pulled from his thoughts by Jake clapping a hand on his shoulder as Sam entered the room. “Worst case scenario, she politely declines and next time we play this venue you make sure your hands aren’t fucked.”

Sam snatches the whiskey bottle out of Jake’s hand as Danny gives him a playful shove. “Who we talking about? Medic girl? Yeah, go see what she’s doing right now, invite her out with us!” With that, Sam walks back out of the room pouring Jack down his throat. Jake rolls his eyes and follows his little brother out, but not before stopping in the doorway to make eye contact with Danny and point at him encouragingly.

Now alone again, Danny let out a breath, rubbed his clammy palms against his jeans, and headed out down the hallway.

You were beginning to think he had forgotten your instructions by the time he had showed up. You were starting to put away the materials you had set out for him when you heard him push through the flaps of the tent entrance.

You couldn’t help the smile that graced your face as your eyes met the one on his. “There you are, thought you might’ve forgotten about me, there.”

He chuckled as he sat down in the chair next to the table. “Could never forget those eyes.” You looked down at the table to try and hide your blush as he continued. “Plus I would have no idea how to get this stuff off without your help. I doubt peeling it would be a good idea.”

You laughed at this, pulling out the acetone bottle you had just put away. “No, it really wouldn’t. Unless you want a fresh new blister under the healed one.” You murmured as you doused a cotton round with the liquid.

“Well aren’t I lucky to have met you, then?”

You paused for a moment and looked up at him when he said that. He was staring right back at you, a small smile playing at his lips as he extended his hands out to you.

You smiled back and pressed the dampened cotton onto his skin. “Very lucky, I’d say.” You added, playing along.

There was a brief moment of comfortable silence as you placed another round on his other hand and used both of your hands to press them in so that the acetone would dissolve the bandage. In the process, you found your hands draped across his, his fingers brushing against your palm as yours pressed into his. You took this moment to look back up at him, and once again he was already looking at you.

But your touch and sudden eye contact were enough to push him to follow his bandmates’ advice. “So what are you doing after this? It looks like you’re pretty much closed out already… I didn’t leave you waiting too long, did I?” He lost a little confidence by the end but Danny felt like he had stuck the landing.

Especially when you responded with a bashful shrug and, “No, don’t worry. My job’s not done until everyone’s taken care of. And to answer your first question, I wasn’t really planning on doing anything, probably just going home.”

You tried not to wince at how lame you sounded, completely oblivious to the fact that this was exactly what Danny was hoping to hear.

He cleared his throat softly and said, “Well, the guys and I were gonna head over to this bar down the street if you wanted to come. You don’t have to, if you’d rather just go home. But, um…” His thumb brushed against your pinky and you felt a jolt of electricity course through you. “I’d really like it if you came. I’d love to get to know you outside of the context of being injured.”

Danny held his breath as he waited for your response. He wasn’t one to shoot his shot often, but then again he wasn’t often meeting people he was so taken with like you. Still, to say he felt out of practice was an understatement.

But his worry melted away as he watched your face light up. “Really? Yeah, I’d love to!” You exclaimed, immediately internally cringing at yourself for being too excited.

Danny grinned at you as you pressed down further and wiped off the softened bandage from his hands. You looked back down at the wounds and tilted your head. “Although if we’re going out I should probably throw some band-aids on here so you don’t catch an infection.”

With that, you turned away and started digging through your tote again for a small box of band-aids. Danny couldn’t help but chuckle as you went into nurse mode again, painstakingly applying a dot of neosporin on the gauze of the band-aid before delicately placing them on the puncture point of the blisters.

“You really are something, you know that? I’m kinda glad I busted my hands last show.” Your head whipped up at that and you gave him a look that made him throw his head back with laughter. “I’m sorry, I’m sure that was a very distressing thing to hear as a concert venue medic.” He managed out between laughs.

You joined his laughter, standing up and shoving the rest of your equipment in the tote before reaching around for your purse under your chair. “What’s distressing is the way I want to agree with you. You know, hoping to see the people you treat again doesn’t really make for a good medic.”

Danny chuckled again and reached his hand out to you, this time in a different way than he had been all day. You smiled and accepted it, interlacing your fingers gently with his partially-taped ones. “You’re a great medic. Possibly my favorite I’ve had.”

“You’re quite the charmer there, Danny the drummer.” You leaned into him playfully as he walked you toward the tent’s exit.

“Doing my best, Y/N the medic.” He shot back, reaching forward to hold open the left flap of the entrance for you to finally join him in walking out of.

[shig-a-shig-ah]

GOOD CLEAN FUN

» pairing: chisaki kai x fem!reader

» cw: noncon, somnophilia, oral sex, medical kink, needles (brief mention) 18+, minors DNI.

» a/n: Quirkless AU! This was written for the BNHA Degeneracy 9 to 5 Server collab.

» wc: 5k

» ao3 mirror

Dentistry is a disgusting profession. It makes Chisaki's skin crawl, the poor care people take of themselves, and he frequently regrets being pushed into this family business of staring down filthy gullets all day, though he takes sadistic pleasure in refusing to be gentle with the worst of his patients. Why should he be, when they obviously have such disregard for their own health and hygiene? No, in those cases he takes great satisfaction in ripping the rot out by the root with nothing but pliers and his own brute strength.

Some days, though...some days there are patients like you, who make it all worth while. Patients who are clean.

You make yourself such an easy mark too, though Kai had expected as much after Kurono so slyly told him that he'd probably want to take care of the new patient in room two personally. Hari wasn't wrong; you're trembling when Kai enters the exam room, staring wide-eyed at the tray of neatly-arranged stainless steel instruments next to the chair in which you're reclining, fingertips gripping at the armrests. You're chewing at your lip too, as though your nerves weren't already apparent enough, those perfectly white, straight teeth digging into your plump lower lip in a way that's practically obscene. Even without a closer look Chisaki can tell what good care you take of that cute little mouth, and it's enough to send his cock twitching.

He takes a seat on the stool next to you as he introduces himself, careful to keep the excitement from his voice and to squint his eyes just right so that you'll know he's smiling even behind the surgical mask he wears, the one that both protects him from those much filthier than you and keeps you from seeing just how cold that grin really is. Your own smile is much more obviously forced, but he likes that you try - it's endearing that you're working hard to be brave even when you look close to tears with anxiety. Of course, he also likes that you're scared, likes that extra little bit of power over you, and that it will make all the easier for him to take advantage, because he's already decided he has to have you.

It's impossible for you to remember how or why this dentophobia started. You can only remember being dragged kicking and screaming to the dentist as a young child, your mother scolding you for refusing to behave. As you got older you managed a little more self-control, but while you can force yourself into the chair, you can do nothing to stop the way you shake and your heart races. It's only made worse by the obvious annoyance you face when practitioners have to deal with you; you know they think you're stupid or immature for this reaction you can't control.

The man before you, however, is smiling sympathetically, gold-flecked eyes crinkling with concern in a way you appreciate. He's handsome even with half his face covered, all bright eyes and perfect dark hair, and your cheeks heat up when he asks if you're nervous. You force out a meek nod, and he chuckles softly.

"No need to be self-conscious. It's a common fear," he says. "But we do offer sedation, if that's something you're interested in. It can help with the nerves."

Your brow furrows slightly. It's not an option you've been offered before, hadn't even realized it was a possibility. "Sedation? Like, put me under?"

"No," he says, chuckling softly again as he turns to the monitor by the chair and starts scrolling through what you assume is your file. "Nothing as severe as that, at least not for a routine cleaning. Just a little nitrous oxide to help take the edge off."

That you have heard of, but always thought it was only used for more intense procedures. "That's laughing gas, right?"

"That's the colloquial name for it, yes. It'll numb you some and help you relax. Although it might make you a little giggly, as the name implies. Some of my patients even enjoy it." Your face heats up again when his intense gaze lingers on you, not just with embarrassment this time, and a small titter escapes you.

Chisaki can't believe his luck with you, if he's being honest. You're exactly his type, and as he expected your dental records are flawless - never so much as a cavity. He's confident too that you'll accept what he's offering with as anxious as you are, and your reaction to his presence. He's not surprised by that; Kai knows the effect he has on people when he tries. Probably he doesn't even need to go through the great lengths he does to get people like you into a compromising position, but he enjoys the process. It's easier this way, with access to medical records so he knows what he's touching, and an army of sedatives to ensure he's perfectly in control of these encounters.

You only deliberate for a moment before nodding and giving him the answer he knew you would. "Okay, I guess I can try it."

The smile he gives you this time is actually genuine as excitement blooms in his gut. "I think you'll find it really helps," he says, daring to rest one hand on your forearm briefly. Even through the thin latex of his gloves, he can feel that your skin is soft, and he feels another pang of anticipation. Then he stands up. "I have to supervise the sedation, so I'll take care of your cleaning and exam personally. I'll be right back and then we can get started."

Your chest is still tight with anxiety as he situates you, arranging a strange mask over your nostrils and instructing you to breath deeply through your nose, but once you catch the scent of that slightly sweet gas being pumped into your lungs, the effects are almost immediate. The tension in your chest abates, your whole body going light and tingly, and suddenly you can't remember what you were ever so afraid of. When Chisaki tells you to open wide, you don't even hesitate, doing so immediately and sticking your tongue out slightly, making an exaggerated 'ahhhhh' sound and then giggling a little, though you couldn't say why.

"I can see it's working already," Chisaki says. He's unable to keep the breathiness out of his tone this time, but he trusts you're too distracted to notice. The way you'd opened so obediently, and the sight of your little pink tongue poking out lewdly has his cock hardening already, and he's only barely begun. He can't stop himself from reaching out, pushing that wet muscle back into your mouth with one finger, letting it linger on your tongue a moment longer than necessary to feel the heat of it before pulling away, but you only giggle at the slightly inappropriate act.

Despite his straining erection begging for relief, Chisaki still has a job to do, and he works with well-practiced efficiency as he goes through the process of cleaning your teeth. The anticipation is as much a part of this as anything else, and he'd be lying if he said he didn't enjoy the buildup. He's not a masochist by any means, but these little self-denials are gratifying, only serve to make the end result that much sweeter. Still, he can't help but find himself occasionally distracted by the way you laugh every time he gives you an instruction to open wider, or tilt your head, noticing the way your chest bounces slightly beneath your tight top, and how you lie with your legs slightly spread, so inviting.

Normally he waits until he can render patients like you truly helpless before he touches them, recommending elaborate procedures that they don't realize are entirely unnecessary, but then again most patients don't request or accept sedation for such routine procedures as this. He reaches over to the tank of nitrous oxide, increasing the dose slightly and watching as you slump a little more in the chair, and then he reaches out to trail one gloved hand up your thigh and over your clothed center.

You've barely felt anything this whole time, aware of him working at your teeth but not really registering it, too overwhelmed by the way your whole body feels pleasantly tingly and numb, and it's only after he's ceased fussing over your mouth that you start to notice another sensation, a building tension between your thighs that makes you squirm, a small whine escaping you. Your eyes, closed to defend against the bright overhead light, flutter open, but you can't see him hovering over you anymore.

"We're almost finished," Chisaki says calmly when you whimper again as that slight pressure continues to build. "I just need to enter some notes in your file, and then finish the actual exam."

From out of your line of sight he can see the way you're frowning, your cheeks puffing up slightly with discomfort and arousal, obviously confused. He presses his fingers more firmly against your clothed cunt, palming himself through his pants with his other hand. It's bolder than he'd usually be, but for once he's struggling with restraint, just can't bring himself to wait until he's found some excuse to render you more wholly unconscious in his chair.

"I just...I feel a little funny," you whimper, and then giggle again.

"That's normal," he says, continuing to massage your sex, noticing the way your hips twitch when he strokes over just the right spot. "Some people feel numbness, or a little pressure. As long as nothing hurts, there's nothing to worry about."

You nod, letting your eyes fall closed again. You can't quite help your thighs from twitching; it's a strange feeling, the knot tightening deep in your stomach even as you feel so numb and tingly, and when it intensifies further you feel a stab of shame as you realize exactly what's happening, that you're going to cum even as you try to hold yourself back.

Kai knows it's risky, that all you'd have to do is turn your head and open your eyes to see his straining arousal, but he can't stop himself from working his pants open as quietly as possible and stroking himself properly as he watches the struggle on your face, the way you bite at your lip and obviously try to ignore the sensation, apparently ready to believe this is some spontaneous reaction to your drugged-up state and not his fingers working over you.

Despite the fact that you try to resist the sensation, the tingling in your body intensifies around your clit until your legs are shaking, the walls of your cunt fluttering around nothing and a mortifying whine escaping you. Through your giddiness, however, the humiliation is short-lived, nearly forgotten the moment you find yourself giggling at your own orgasm.

The sight of you quivering as you cum, entirely unaware of his hands on you, only further erodes Kai's patience. "I just need to take one last quick look," he says, and then without waiting for your response he's releasing his cock momentarily, using gloved fingers from both hands to pry your mouth wide again. You squirm slightly when he forces those fingers deep in your mouth, but he removes one hand just as quickly, returning those spit-soaked fingers to his throbbing shaft and fisting himself more urgently. If you can hear the faint wet sounds the action brings, he trusts that you won't question them.

Fuck, and he's close already, the sight of your pink tongue lolling against his fingers only sending the coil in his gut tightening further, and he shoves his fingers a little deeper towards the back of your throat, feeling the muscles there spasm as you gag at the invasion.

"I'm sorry if this is a bit unpleasant," he says shortly, too caught up in the way you look with his fingers probing your mouth to maintain that congenial tone. Even through the gloves he can feel the heat and wetness of your mouth, and it sends shivers down his spine. "This should only take a minute. You have a small mouth - it's difficult to see with your tongue in the way."

He presses his fingers further, not sure why he's explaining himself when you're so obviously unbothered. You're only nodding, spit running down the side of your chin as you salivate around his fingers. On most anyone else he would find the sight nauseating, but seeing your innocent face so debased only spurs him closer to his release. He squeezes his length more tightly, letting the spit-slicked palm of his gloved hand rub over his tip with every stroke, the fingers of his other hand continuing to invade his throat while you simply lay there and take it, and when you finally let out a moan of real distress at the feel of his fingers in the back of your throat, it's enough to send him over the edge, his cock spasming and hot spurts of cum shooting into his gloved hand.

The moment his cock stops twitching he withdraws his fingers from your mouth, stripping off his fouled gloves and tucking himself back into his pant before you can so much as open your eyes. When he turns back to you again, you're staring at the ceiling, grinning slightly with shiny, wet lips.

It takes a few minutes for your head to clear once he removes the mask from your face, and by then you only have the vaguest sense that anything about the experience was strange, and even then it was still vastly more pleasant than any of your prior dental experiences, albeit embarrassing in a slightly different way than usual.

Chisaki waits for you to seem cognizant before drawing your attention to the monitor by the chair. His boldness in touching you did little to truly satisfy him, only made him more eager to fuck you properly, to feel the heat of your tongue against his cock instead of his fingers, and to bury himself in that cunt that responded so sweetly to his touch.

"Your teeth are mostly in good shape," Chisaki says. "But I'm afraid you do have one small cavity. Here, see?" He points at one of your x-rays on the screen, a perfectly healthy tooth but he's confident you won't notice that, that you don't know what to look for, and sure enough you're only nodding, eyes wide. It's adorable, that fearful look on your face. He almost wishes there were a way for you to keep that expression when he has his way with you. "It's only a small one. But I'd recommend a stronger sedative for it, if your nerves are that much of a problem."

"Stronger?"

"It requires an IV," he explains, "and you wouldn't be able to drive yourself home afterwards. You'll still be conscious, technically, but you won't be aware of much."

The idea of having your tooth drilled into already has you quaking, the last traces of your buzz gone, and you agree at once. "Okay. I guess I can ask my roommate to drive me." She probably won't mind; you two do each other favors fairly regularly.

Kai's glad to hear you don't mention a boyfriend. It wouldn't matter in the end, if you had one or not, but the idea of some other man's hands on you still sends a jealous, possessive stab through him. He prefers to believe that he's the only who's touched you, that there aren't others out there tainting you with their filth.

"Great," he says, giving you another one of those reassuring smiles. "Let's get you scheduled."

***

It's a matter of days before you're back again, Kurono having conveniently found a 'cancellation' in the schedule to slot you in. He knows all about Kai's proclivities of course; they've worked together for years, well before Chisaki took over Overhaul Dentistry from his adopted father, and they've known each other even longer. Hari's stayed to watch Kai's little indiscretions once or twice, though he's more prone to lurking outside the door to listen shamelessly, knowing full well that Chisaki has no interest in sharing and would never permit him to touch what he considers his.

Chisaki is practically shaking with impatience by the time you arrive, has to take a few deep breaths to steady his trembling hands before placing the IV and pumping you full of Propofol. He's not sure he's ever been this excited about a patient, but this time around the eagerness has been killing him. He's always considered his libido healthy but not excessive, but he's stroked himself off more times in the last few days that he usually would over the course of a month, waiting for this.

You blink slowly, counting backwards until your words trail off and your eyes fall closed, and then Kai stands up, taking in the sight of you limp before him. You wore a dress today, a summery little thing that buttons from top to bottom, almost as though you'd known what you were coming here for.

He's already hard, his erection straining against the constricting fabric of his pants, but he ignores it for now and focuses on undoing those buttons, savoring each additional glimpse of skin. Your underwear is simple, white cotton panties with a hint of lace around the edges, and a matching bra. He likes them, simple and clean, just like you.

One gloved hand lifts to cup your breasts, kneading that soft flesh and then finding the bud of one nipple and rolling it between his fingers, sending it hardening. He watches your face as he does so - you're not entirely unconscious, but you won't react much, and you certainly won't remember this. Your brow is furrowing just slightly under the attention, and when he moves to toy with your other nipple he hears the faint sigh you let out, takes it as encouragement to shove that garment out of the way and reveal your pert breasts, licking his lips at the sight of the slightly darker skin of your nipples, and the way they've puckered under his attentions so invitingly. He bends and takes one in his mouth, laving his tongue over that stiff peak, biting down lightly.

A little whine escapes you this time, and the sound sends spike of heat through his cock. He knew you'd be responsive to him after the last time, but you're already exceeding his expectations. He tips his head slightly, staring at your mouth, those slightly parted lips.

He's never felt compelled to kiss anyone, all too aware of the filth present in even the cleanest of mouths, but as he stares at your lips he's surprised by the urge to do so. And he knows the risks are minimal, spent more than one of the last several evenings reading through your medical records, giving them a much more thorough evaluation than the release form you'd signed probably warranted. But he couldn't help himself, and now he knows that you take good care of the rest of yourself just like you do your mouth.

He leans forward curiously, encouraged when your lips press just a little back into his, even as your eyes stay closed. He lets his tongue snake out to trace over your mouth, probing between those lips, and you let another soft whine, though your tongue doesn't respond to his. That's okay; it's more enjoyable that he'd have expected and he deepens it anyway, relishing your taste, minty and sweet - obviously you'd prepared yourself for him. He grasps one of your hands and brings it to rub against his cock, panting as he ruts into your palm.

When he finally breaks the kiss, he's equally parts disgusted and aroused by the thin strand of saliva that connects your mouths, staring at it in fascination until it breaks.

That uncharacteristic impatience rears its head again, and Chisaki fumbles with his pants, letting his cock spring forth. He wraps your hand around it briefly, savoring the feel of your small, soft hand caressing his length, and then he moves on just as quickly. It only takes the flick of a switch to lower the chair down so that you're at waist level, and then he's tilting your head towards him, pressing the tip of his cock against those spit-slicked lips. You surprise him by poking that pink tongue out just a little, and for a minute he simple brushes the head of his glans back and forth against it, relishing the soft brush of your wet tongue, and the pleasant jolt it sends through him.

"You're a little tease, aren't you?" he whispers. Then, he pushes forward into the hot cavern of your mouth, swearing under his breath at the feel of you. You gag reflexively when he bumps against the back of your throat, but he only pulls back briefly and surges forward again, one gloved hand coming to rest in your hair gently, holding you in place as he fucks your mouth.

It's not tight without you actively sucking, but it's hot and wet, and the velvety texture of your tongue against him is more than enough. Despite trying to be gentle at first, he finds himself thrusting more roughly as his excitement grows at the sight of his length disappearing between your sweet lips, stroking your hair when you gag harder.

"Shh, now," he scolds to your unresponsive body. "Be good and take it."

It's almost as though you're listening - your head tilts back slightly to accept more of him, your throat contracting around him, and before he can help himself Kai's hips are bucking, his balls tightening and his cock contracting as his load spills down your throat. When he pulls away he can still see the last of his seed coating your tongue, and he spreads it around with his gloved fingers, entranced by the sight.

He adjusts his clothes a bit, not done with you just yet, and then circles around towards you feet. His gloved hands wander up along your thighs, squeezing at that soft flesh, and then tug you down towards him - mindful of the IV still buried in your arm - until your legs dangling off the edge of the chair. He spreads them a little, running one finger over your clothed slit. There's a damp spot at the center of your panties, and his eyes fix on it with great satisfaction.

"You really are eager, hmm?" he murmurs, letting the pad of his thumb hone in on your clit, the outline of that puffy bead visible through the damp cotton. You let out the faintest of whimpers, your hips tilting into his touch slightly, and Kai lets out a shuddering breath before bending forward and burying his face between your thighs, letting his lips move lightly over your covered cunt, catching your clit between his lips to tease your barely-conscious form, earning another soft whimper. His cock is swelling again already at those little sounds, and the scent of you.

Forcing himself to pull away, he works your panties down over your hips and off completely with eager fingers, his eyes fixing on your bare cunt. Your positive to response to his touches is all the more visible now, glistening strands of wetness coating your folds. He uses his thumbs to spread you open, circling your clit with two fingers as he stares at your entrance and letting out a throaty groan when he can see your hole clenching around nothing.

The sight of your perfect cunt so greedy for his cock is entrancing, and he repeats the motion. You're not the first person he's done this with and you certainly won't be the last, but oh, you just might be his favorite, so eager for him. He'd known you were special after that first encounter, but your response to him now is better than he could have imagined a few days ago.

He slides two fingers into you, scissoring them gently to ready you for his cock. He can hear the way your faint breathing has sped up, the skin across your chest darkening slightly as you grow flushed from his efforts, and when he removes his fingers they're coated in your slick. He stares at them curiously, tempted again by new desires, and then slides them into his mouth, savoring the taste of you, sweet and quite unlike anything else.

The throbbing in his cock is growing unbearable, and though there's a part of him that wants to draw this out, wants to savor it, there's even larger part that's desperate to feel that tight hole clenching around him. He shifts you again slightly, bringing your hips to rest at the end of the chair, the contours of the leg rest making your back arch nicely, those perfect tits even more on display, and he takes one in hand as he aligns himself near your entrance, pinching at your nipple hard enough to make you whine.

There are condoms in the pocket of his sterile white lab coat; he's normally vigilant with the protective measures, loathe to expose himself to any unnecessary risks, both hygienically and in terms of leaving evidence behind, but he's tempted to forgo that now. The notes from your last yearly doctor's visit stated you're not sexually active, and he thinks it must be true, that an innocent thing like you is too sweet to lie. Of course, because of that you're not on birth control either, but even that doesn't bother him like it should; it excites him even, the thought of his seed taking root and the surprise that would bring.

He runs his bare cock over your damp slit experimentally, groaning at the unadulterated sensation, and that's enough to convince him to abandon his usual precautions. Kai thrusts forward into your wet heat, letting out a strangled moan. Your cunt is so tight, so hot around his length, and god, it's so much better when he can feel it all, the intense wetness of your cunt creaming around him and every tiny ridge of your velvety walls. The way you whimper when he forces himself into you makes him wonder if perhaps he didn't prepare you quite enough - your walls are fluttering around his cock, obviously struggling to accommodate him, but it's not until he's nestled deep inside, the head of his cock kissing your cervix, that he pauses to let you adjust.

You squirm a little - small, feeble movements - and Kai relishes each slight shift of your body, watching your lips twitch. It's obvious you're trying to speak, but in your drugged up state all that spills forth is barely audible nonsense, tiny whines with a pleading undertone. He reaches forward to stroke your hair from your face. "You're so needy," he scolds, "but don't worry, I'll take care of you."

With that, he pulls out until just the head of his cock is still trapped in your cunt, and then drives himself forward roughly. Your limp body bounces back at the force of his thrust, your tits jiggling slightly with each of his movements, a sight he adores. He lets his fingers circle your clit again, can feel the way your cunt immediately clamps down around him in response, as though you're trying to draw him even deeper, and he gladly obliges you, slamming himself as deep as possible every time. You whimper more loudly than you have yet, and he can just make out your eyes trying vainly to flutter open, never quite succeeding.

"You take me so well," he pants, the feel of your slick walls gripping his cock so tightly has his balls tightening again, and he slows a little, trying to prolong the inevitable, not ready to be done with your sweet pussy just yet. He leans forward clumsily latch his mouth around one of those erect nipples, sucking and nibbling, noting the response brings, you throaty noises coming more quickly, the slight twitches of your hips growing more violent.

"So well," he murmurs again. No one's been this responsive before; he's lucky, honestly, if he can ever coax his patients to orgasm, but your cunt is flooded, obviously ready to cum for him, and it's enough that he loses the last of his restraint, rolling his hips furiously, railing against your cervix with every thrust in a way that's sure to leave you aching once you're fully aware again, but he can't bring himself to care. He wants to feel your release, feel you gripping his cock more tightly if such a thing is possible, and wants to fill you up with his seed.

"Are you going to be good and cum for me?" he asks breathily, and after another minute your body answers his question, your cunt clamping down, a quiet, high-pitched whine issuing from your throat as you hole constricts. Another few stuttering thrusts and his own cock is spasming, pleasant throbs radiating through his core as he drives into you one last time and cums, swearing at the almost unbearable tightness of your cunt around him.

For a moment he remains buried there, relishing the last throes of your orgasms and the way you're still occasionally pulsing around him. When he pulls out, he frowns at the distasteful mess his cum makes as it leaks out of your gaping hole, but it's accompanied by a shiver of satisfaction at the evidence of how he's claimed you for himself. Still, he moves on almost immediately to cleaning up, slipping on a fresh pair of nitrile gloves and tucking himself back into his pants before digging out a handful of papery dental bibs and using them to clean away the mess he's left between your thighs. Of course, there's nothing he can do about the evidence he's left deep inside, but even that he still finds titillating, the thought of his cum dripping out of you even after you've left, of your cute, confused face as you try to understand.

You barely stir as he goes about this process, only occasionally shifting slightly or mumbling a little, and by the time he's replaced your clothes you're lying still, the tiniest frown is on your lips. It's almost as though you know your time together is coming to an end, and you don't want to go. Chisaki glances from you to the needle in your arm, and the still half-full bag of Propofol suspended from the IV stand. Now that he thinks about it, he supposes there's no real reason to rush you out of there.

"Hari," he calls out, and he's unsurprised when the door to the exam room opens almost immediately, knows how Kurono likes to listen. The other man looks at him questioningly, gaze flicking between Kai and your sedated form reclining in the chair.

"Yes, Kai?" he asks, raising on pale eyebrow.

Chisaki smiles behind his mask. "Cancel the rest of my appointments for the day."

[jkknight98]

The House always Wins.

SO I finally got the Quackity and Revivebur story finished, and its twice the length of my normal stories because I couldn't help myself but keep writing. I tried to keep the rival banter between Quackity and Wilbur natural as best I could, so I hope you guys enjoy it. Remember to drink water and eat something today.

(also to those who wonder who the witch is that I reference here and there in my stories, I'm pretty much talking about myself since I'm working “magic” to get these stories out for you all to enjoy)

Wilbur knew that this was a really bad idea, Quackity was well known for his skills in playing cards, the few games from their time in Lamanburg showed that, but damn he wasn’t interested in the prize that was offered. He had left Ranboo to work on their newest plan while he took some time to blow off steam, it took everything in his power to not explode at the sight of Tubbo working in the restaurant, of course, the scared face bastard would do this when he couldn’t get his brother, he would just go for his best friend.

Wilbur chewed the end of his thumb harshly as he paced about in the woods where he could have some peace,” Why would he go to Quackity, he is the reason he died that day….. I needed him to fully convince Tommy.” He shook his head as he lifted his head to brush his hair out of his face,” no... I can’t keep dragging him into my things…. Fuck it…. I have Ranboo though, so I have that in my favor.” His mind went back to the fish tank though, did Quackity think he was funny for filling it with salmon, he really wanted to go back and destroy that tank, but that would just play into the subtle jeers-

“Delivery for Wilbur Soot from Lamanburg!”

Wilbur turned sharply to try and find the disembodied voice that broke him from his musing. He didn’t recognize the voice and it was really startling to hear someone in the one place he expected to be alone but was shocked to find the woods around him completely empty… no not empty, Near his feat was a letter that had a few green stains on its surface. He gently reached down and picked up the letter, running his thumb over the spots and realized that they were from slime residue...which was weird, The poker chip wax seal was very telling, however. “ We just saw each other, why would he send me a letter?” He gently slipped the small pocket knife out of his pocket and swiftly cut the top open and removed the letter, wrinkling his nose slightly at the smell of Quackity’s Cologne wafted out.

To Wilbur~

I know that we only just saw each other to discuss the wonders of our new competition. I'm sure you loved the fish tank just as much as I loved your idea of a personalized Ip for your burgers, but something interesting has come up. I think we should play a game of cards together to be a show of goodwill between us before our competition fully starts, just for old times sake. I managed to get in contact with a certain witch that roams the area and they gave me something that will make the reward for winning all the more sweeter. If this is of interest to you, meet me at the needle where we talked before with Tommy at sunset.

May your business do well,

Quackity.

Wilbur furrowed his brows slightly as he read over a particular line, what could that witch provide for Quackity, and what was that reward? The subtle jabs at his burger van just fired up his anger once more, but the thought of beating Quackity was too tempting. “ Guess I need to get out my old pack of cards to practice then.”

*

Quackity sat quietly at his desk while waiting for the news, gently twirling the small bottle with his fingers, watching as the bright teal liquid swirled around the sides with each move. If what that witch said was true, beating Wilbur in this quick game of cards would be worth it for the short time he would be under his control. That would only happen if Wilbur agreed to the game,” what am I talking about, his ego’s too big to refuse an opportunity like this.” He then leaned over to look at the bottle more thoughtfully, even if he lost to the Franken freak and was forced to drink this, he would be fine and could do some recon work. You can’t hide things from someone inside yourself when you're someone like Wilbur Soot, he wouldn’t be able to help himself but brag if he won,  and that's when he would slip.

“Dab me up! My mission was successful, Quackity from Las Nevadas!”

Quackity couldn’t help but jump when heard the cheerful exclamation from the slime-human- thing that slithered its way under the door instead of opening it like he asked multiple times,” Didn’t I tell you that you have to open- nevermind, did Wilbur seem like he was going to accept my offer?” Quackity’s face hurt slightly as he couldn’t help the wide grin as he watched Charlie nod, things were going how he wanted and he now needed to be ready, the game area needed to be set up. He quickly stood up and slid the potion bottle into his pocket for safety, heading for the door with a new sense of excitement, the newest battlefield for the two needed to be set.

*

Wilbur couldn’t hide the sneer on his face as he traveled across the sand towards Las Nevadas, of course, the one-eyed bastard would want him to come at this time, the flashy colors and lights were nearly blinding. The multitudes of colors were no doubt going to cause a migraine later on if he continued to look at them, it made him wonder how Quackity could stand them, but he could guess that others would think the same about his interest in TnT. He kept his head low as he walked past the few buildings to reach the space needle, giving a mild glare to the new burger restaurant with the ‘Tubburger’ sign as he passed it, but continued with his silent march forward. The needle stood brightly before him as he craned his head upwards to look towards the top, getting the faint idea that he could see a darkened shape at the top looking down at him, but that could have been his imagination. He gently readjusted his jacket before stepping into the elevator, letting his weight be fully supported by the rush of bubbles as he let his eyes close, not wanting to look at the lights any longer. His body stuttered slightly as it reached the top, and he opened his eyes to see a simple table sat in the middle of the grand room, and at its center sat Quackity;  shuffling cards quietly. Wilbur didn't say a word as he stepped from the elevator, using a hand to gently brush the damped hair away from his eyes, and strode forward to the empty chair that was across from his rival. He slowly sat down and placed his elbows on the table before placing his chin on his hands, watching on as the other continued to gently shuffle the cards in hand, moving them elaborate before starting to lay them out on the table. Wilbur was quick to realize that the game they were playing was poker, a classic choice for Quackity, and a game Wilbur was well familiar with. He waited until all the cards were laid out before he decided to speak,” You said there was a reward involved with this little game, you going to tell me what it is before I decide to go back down the elevator because as much as I enjoy playing with you; I’m busy.”

The scared man only smiled as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small bottle filled with a cyan liquid, and looked like no normal potion that he’s ever seen, before setting it in the middle of the table. “This my rival,” the way Quackity said rival made a quick shiver roll up his spine,” is the reward I was referring to, our neighborhood witch didn’t make it easy for me to get this much.”

Wilbur gently lifted the bottle and swirled it,” what does it do though, because I don’t think that you would have asked me here for a simple potion,” he paused as he thought over the second thing,” you talking about you know who right?” He grimaced as Quackity nodded,” they give me the creeps.”

Quackity only nodded,” yep, but they are good at making potions like this one, it has some very unique properties that I figured would make a fun reward for the winner of our game.” Quackity was quick in taking the bottle and setting back on the smooth table,” when taken, it allows for the drinker to shrink down to…snack size for a few hours, while also being safe from any form of physical damage.” Quackity crossed his arms and watched Wilbur closely, he could see the realization forming in those reddish-brown eyes, and the newly hungry look that matched his own,” once it wears off, the one who drank it will automatically be teleported to their last respawn point, you still interested in playing?”

Wilbur sat silently as he mulled over what he had just been told, he knew that playing cards with Quackity was never a smart decision, but the thought of having him curled in his stomach and left to Wilbur’s mercy was a hard treat to ignore. He could go back to his van and poke at his shrunken rival, or even lay down on the bed to feel the crushed form thrash between the mattress and the rest of his body. Wilbur couldn’t help the slightly sheepish grin as his stomach let out a low rumble that caused the other male to laugh loudly,” seems like your stomach spoke for you my friend, let's get started then.” Wilbur could only shake his head as he moved to pick up his cards, looking over his hand quickly and deciding he didn’t like his first pull, moving to exchange his lower card for a better option.

“So are we playing first to three, or first to three consecutive wins, any longer game and I'll starve~”

*

Quackity smiled softly as he looked over his current hand, he and Wilbur had decided on the three consecutive wins ruling, and he was currently on his second win in a row. He had to give Wilbur a lot of credit, the man could pull a bluff with the best of them and even Quackity was thrown off a few times, but he could see the slight creasing at the edge of his eyes that showed his frustration at how the game was going. He had an ace up his sleeve however, he decided to play fair for the majority of the game to see if his rival would, but things were dragging on way too long. He was swift in pulling out the ace he knew would be next in the stack, changing his straight flush into a Royal, and made a subtle move to make himself appear disappointed; but barely noticeable. He saw the slight twitch in Wilburs fingers, which showed Wilbur was excited,” Well Quackity, I think I'm about to break your streak again,” The man quickly laid out a perfect straight flush,” boom, there's no way you can beat that since I know we've already gone through the higher cards.”

Quackity let out a low sigh and he lifted a hand to lightly pinch the bridge of his nose,” Yeah yeah,” he held this pose for a moment longer to let Wilbur relax, but could help the smirk as he moved to lean forward,” but don’t you know in a game like this, the house always wins,” and laid down his Royal flush. He smiled wider as Wilbur looked down in shock, before his hands flew to the discard deck as well as the pull deck, clearly looking to catch him in his cheat. Quackity let him look, sparing a glance to the tiny amount of slime that was slithering away towards the elevator, watching the last bit of the ace card dissolve away.

“ There’s no way, I am absolutely positive that you cheated, you shouldn’t have the cards for a royal flush,” It was hard to not slam his hands on the table in frustration, but despite his best efforts, Wilbur could not find the card that should have been in the discard pile. He didn’t want to accept the fact he lost, there was no way when he had managed to slide in his own cheat card to ensure his hand, but he couldn’t ignore it at this point. He looked back up when he heard a soft scraping sound, and watched as his smirking opponent slowly slid the small bottle towards him, leaving it to sit before him as the hand pulled back and the fingers started to drum.

Quackiyt let his fingers softly drum against the table's surface as he watched Wilbur fight with his ego, he knew the man was absolutely steaming inside, but it would also kill him to show such weakness before him. He was going to be kind in this instant to let Wilbur drink the potion at his own pace, but the low rumble of his empty stomach reminded him of the fact he didn’t eat anything since he managed to buy the potion in the first place, and he wanted his reward. “Wilbur… I do think it's time for me to receive my reward, don't you think?” He fully allowed his tongue to swipe across what was left of his lips and his few exposed teeth, chuckling at the scowl he received in return for his statement, but continued to watch on with increasing impatience.

Each tap of the fingers sounded like the ticking of a clock, one he could no longer avoid, ” fine, you'll get your reward soon enough.” Wilbur quickly snatched up the tiny potion bottle off the table and popped the cork out with his thumb in a well practiced motion, feeling a little concerned when a faint vapor escaped once the cork was gone, but still brought it up to his nose to smell. The first smell that came through was an odd fruity scent that he didn’t recognize in the slightest, but also the musky smell of nether wart and a fish smell. It made him wrinkle his nose slightly, but as he took one last look at the barely hidden look of anticipation on Quackity’s face, he just decided to tip his head back and down the entire bottle. He nearly gagged as the syrupy like substance traveled down his throat, the odd fruity flavor was horribly sour and he thought he could taste something similar to fermented spider eyes, it was absolutely horrid. “Oh that tastes like absolute horse shit, you sure that witch didn’t sell you an awkward potion with a silly story.” The thought of this made Wilbur laugh, and laugh harder when he saw the look of doubt cross through his rival's face..but as he continued to laugh, the more light headed he felt. He moved one hand to rest on the table while the other moved to rest against his temple, the feeling was getting worse by the minute, he opened his to look up at Quackity… wait.

Wilbur was now looking up at Quackity instead of normally looking down at him, even when sitting he was taller, but now he was a few inches shorter than his equally shocked partner. He tried to speak, but his vision quickly darkened and he felt his body fall limply back against the chair, falling quickly into unwanted consciousness.

Quackity was quick to rush around the table to catch the rapidly shrinking body as it nearly fell off the chair when he went fully limp, the man was now the size of a small child and was still shrinking.  It was a memorizing process to watch as the normally six foot five man be reduced to the size of Quackity’s hand before stopping, this made him worry slightly, but the witch assured him that he would still be physically capable of getting him down safely. He used his fingers to gently move the miniscule man around in his palms, everything from his hair down to the glasses on his face were perfectly normal despite the change in size, it was quite amazing. He lifted the small body close to his face and frowned at the smell. It made him wonder if Wilbur showered at all, but he was determined as he slowly slid out his tongue to taste the exposed skin. He couldn't help his surprise at the taste that flooded across his tongue, it was a musty flavor that tasted way better than any meat he's ever had the opportunity to try, and he couldn’t help but lick the unconscious man again to get more of the flavor.

Wilbur groaned as the pounding in his head brought him back from his short sleep, and he could still feel the hot winds of the desert blowing on him as he tried to fully wake back up, what really shocked him away was the feeling of something hot and wet hitting the side of his face. His eyes opened to be met with a large tongue sliding away and back into the grinning maw that was right next to him, he tried his best to scramble away after giving a shocked yell. He was quickly gripped by the fingers and held still as he was pulled away from the mouth,” You absolute sack of shit, that's not a great thing to wake up to.”

Quackity couldn’t help the loud laugh at the smaller man,” Sorry Wilbur, I'm on a little bit of a time limit with my reward, I figured I’d have a spoiler before you woke up.” He lifted his other hand to gently poke the tiny face, pulling it back when it was nearly bitten. “I have to say i’m rather surprised with you Wilbur, you smell absolutely terrible, but taste rather good; like Blue cheese.” He watched the words sink in, and had to tighten his grip as the man started to thrash indignantly, clearly enraged by the comparison and his emphasis on the color blue. He made a mental note to be sure to bring that up more often during their next spat, but he didn’t want to waste more time as he lifted the squirming man until the kicking legs were level with his mouth, he wanted Wilbur to watch. “ Well Wilbur, I think it's time to show you to your room for your stay here in Las Nevadas, I hope you enjoy your stay, I know I will.”

Wilbur froze as he watched the giant mouth open wide and his legs were quickly slipped inside, the massive tongue making quick work of soaking his pants and licking at his skin, making him shiver in anger at how powerless he felt. He wanted to fight hard against the disgusting feeling, but he knew that would only make it more enjoyable for the man-eating him, so he was going to do absolutely nothing. He had to grit his teeth as his legs were slid further into the hot mouth, quickly being pressed into the rough pallet and licked roughly, his now devourer humming more at his taste. He moved to cross his arms and stare defiantly at the giant face looming before him, getting a better look at the giant scar that ran up Quackity’s face and how the gap in his lip was starting to drip saliva through the exposed teeth. He did get a moment to admire his looks however, and he had to admit the scar really added a rugged handsomeness, and he wouldn’t say how much the gold teeth did it for him. He gave an annoyed groan as he was shoved further into the mouth and the throat began its first power tugs at his legs while his pelvis fully entered the mouth. He sent an annoyed glare up at the half lidded eye that was watching his every reaction,” I thought you were on a time limit, just hurry up and let me get this over with!” The movement completely stopped for a moment other than the natural movement of the giant's breathing, but Wilbur watched as the giant lips moved to form a smirk and felt the tongue start to move with a new purpose.

He felt his face flushed as the tongue brushed against his side once he was pushed further into the mouth, clearly trying to incite laughter out of him; he didn't think Quackity would stoop that low. He soon couldn’t help the pearls of laughter that escaped him as he tried to shove at the hand still holding him and kicking at the now tightening grip of the throat, especially when he managed to make the man choke slightly from his thrashing. It gave him a bit of joy, but that changed when the head tilted back and Wilbur felt himself sliding further down the throat due to his own weight.

Quackity let his head fully lean back to let Wilburs own weight pull him further down his throat, the failing gave him a bit of a scare, but he was also having some issue breathing with just the legs. He took one more deep breath that caused the man in his mouth to freeze (i’m so dirty minded oh my goodness) and moved his hand so his fingers rested on Wilburs shoulder, and pushed down as he took a heavy swallow. This made the smaller man freak out slightly, the tiny hands moving to grip and his fingers and face, but he ignored this as he quickly slicked up the chest with saliva. He was glad the man tasted as good as he did because his mouth was slick enough to ussr the man down, and he felt a shiver of joy when the now yowling head was shoved past his lips and his tongue was quick to muffle the sound and could feel the weird sensation of Wilbur trying to speak against the flesh. He ignored it to start swallowing harder due to feeling a little light headed due the fact the wriggling form was creating a larger than he was expecting as brought his other hand to feel at the wriggling lump, and grinned when he felt the grasping hands slide off the back of his tongue. He left his hand over the lump as he continued to give hard swallows, grinning widder as it slowly slid under his collarbone and he could finally get a breath of air,” You didn't make that easy on me, that's just like you Wilbur.” He could still feel the form traveling through his chest and laid his hand over his stomach to wait till his prize entered, the organ giving a low growl to show its own excitement.

Wilbur couldn’t help the instinctual feeling of fear as he was fully shoved into the mouth, yelling wordlessly and trying to stop himself from being eaten, but was unable to resist the strength of the larger man. It was hard to breathe as his chest was held tightly by the throat as his face was assaulted by the humid heat of the mouth. He tried to yell for Quackity to stop, but his words were cut off by the tongue smacking him in the face. He was sputtering in rage before the muscles pulled him deeper and only his hands remained in the mouth, trying to grab at the teeth to slow his descent, but they were too slick as another swallow left him fully trapped in the crushing grip. He could barely move as the fleshy walls both pushed and shoved him downwards, that isn’t to say he tried, especially when he realized the secondary force rubbing at him was Quackity’s hand. He wanted to yell so badly, but with how tightly he was being compressed, he didn't want to waste what little bit of air he was able to get, especially when he slid into the tighter region of the chest. He tried to struggle harder when he slid past the heart and lungs, trying to cause any discomfort as the giant organs made his own head pound in pain due to the volume, and the loud rumble of the voice gave an extra layer of pain to his ego. His legs were suddenly forced to a stop and the walls of the throat began to force him into a painful half crouch as they tried to keep pushing him down,” Quackity you bastard-” his yell was cut short as his legs were suddenly pulled through a tight opening. It was another painful squeeze before he was roughly shoved into a space that was thankfully less tight as the throat, but the walls were sung and formed to his aching body like a wet sleeping bag. Wilbur could only brace himself partly as the walls let out a low rumble and began rubbing against him, moving up and down his body in practiced ways, trying to rub the accumulated liquid into his already soaked clothing and skin. It was at this point the resolve he was so desperately trying to hold onto shattered, he didn't want to be touched and didn’t want to acknowledge the rumbling voice that came from everywhere, so he began to mindlessly thrash in an attempt to get away from it all.

Quackity feld a mild wave of panic when he had felt Wilbur get stuck just above the entrance of his stomach, he didn't know what he would do before the large lump finally moved, and he felt slightly sick as his stomach stretched slightly to accommodate Wilbur’s size. He laid a hand over the surprisingly still form, his stomach making a low rumble as he tried to get a reaction from Wilbur, not admitting to himself that he was worried for them,” Your pretty still there Wilbur, you didn’t break did you?” The small form then exploded into a flurry of movement, he could feel what bump was either a leg or an elbow, but that didn’t matter as they equally made him feel sicker. He leaned over to try and still the movements while crossing his arms over the writhing lump, giving a low belch that brought back the deceptively good flavor, oh did he realize this was a mistake now. “ Fuck.. Wilbur stop moving around so much, all you're doing is making me feel sick, you're not going to come out the way you got in.” He gave another sickly belch before getting up from the table to get some water, feeling incredibly off balanced due to the new weight in his middle, and made his way to the elevator quickly.

Wilbur continued to thrash until he was completely exhausted, panting hard as the muscles around his spasmed slightly and were making a sickly churning noise. He fell back against the walls as he tried to gain his strength back, tensing slightly as his own stomach dropped and the whole area began to move. His mind tried to form an understanding of what was happening, and finally realized that Quackity was moving, maybe for the reason he was trying to say earlier. Wilbur couldn’t find the energy within himself to care though, he was tired and wanted to be asleep and get away from it all. He yelled loudly when he suddenly got drenched with icy water and that shocked his stressed mind back into reality,” What the fuck was that for, are you trying to drown me now?” He kicked out against the heavy weight that was pressing down on him and felt utterly confused when he both felt and heard the relieved sigh from his captor.

“Glad to see your back to normal, did you have a panic attack? You nearly made me sick, you asshole.”

Wilbur frowned but decided to not say anything about it,”I don’t know what you're talking about, this shit is only supposed to last for a couple hours right, I'm going to just ignore you and sleep it off. Once I'm back to normal we never speak about this again or so help me I will blow up Las Nevadas worse than I did La’manburg” He turned his body away from the hand and hunkered down in the surprisingly soft flesh, focusing on the giant heartbeat, and doing his best to ignore everything else of the man. He just wanted this to be over and never think about this again, even if the initial thought of swallowing Quackity seemed like a good idea.

Quackity sighed as he felt the man turn away from his touch, can’t say he didn’t blame him,” agreed, I'll be happy when you're gone and not giving me a stomachache.” He slowly stood up and made his way towards his bedroom to also sleep, this whole experience was not worth it at all. He had originally thought about trying to get more of the potion for future use, but seeing how one unwilling ‘snack’ reacted, any other would be just as bad or worse. He gave a small wave to Charlie as he passed him, giving him a quick rundown on what to do before making his way to the bedroom, and immediately laying down on it. The tiny man gave another nauseating wriggle at the rough landing, but thankfully settled back down into a warm lump.

He gently traced his fingers over the lump for a few minutes as he tried to sleep, if only the movement didn’t make him sick, this experience wouldn’t have been that bad.

Maybe a willing person would make it better.

[static-fanatic-1]

Any chance of meruem smut ? I’m blaming your yandere hcs I’m simping for him hard ;-; please ?

Warning: (18+) Non-con, Oral, Rough Sex, Teratophilia.

Meruem held a book in his hands, his back propped up against the throne he stole and his arm on the armrest. The book he held had a grey cover, dark and light yet not eligible from this far away.

You sat down on the floor, still trying to figure out how to play a complicated board game Pitou was letting you win at. To say you weren't the best was an understatement. You bit your lip and thought deeply about your next move, should you place an archer on your towers or a general on the 4-4-1 square? You didn't know, either way Pitou would be able to take out your troops but would let you win anyway.

So you simply placed down the archer after a long time thinking, Pitou immediately placing down another archer in a bad spot. You could tell she knew how to play the game, and you knew she could wipe your ass on the floor if she wanted to, but she wouldn't. She didn't want you to loose even if you wanted to. So now you played to loose as well, trying to see who can loose the worst.

Neferpitou glanced up at you through her curly white hair, her scarlet eyes twinkling at the slight smirk on your lips. Her cat like lips curled upwards at your expression. "Nyow I understand." Her large clawed hand placed a tower on the board.

You have her a questioning look, turning your eyes to the board you almost choked on the outcome. She placed a single token and now she won. Yet in your head she lost, I guess she's even better at loosing than you.

"I thought I had you that time." You commented, letting the rest of your tokens fall to the board. "Yet you beat me at loosing."

It was almost funny how her smile widened. The both of you knew the game you were playing, yet she always came on top. You sighed and stretched your arms behind you. "I think I'm done for today, Pitou."

"Nya, that's fine." They knew you liked it when they talked casually with you, none of the bowing or titles for you. Still they would do some of it, Pouf more so than the others.

Her large, clawed hands began to put up the board, you would've helped but you knew she wouldn't let you. She quickly finished and walked off to put it wherever they stored the boards.

You leaned back on the pillow you sat on, hands behind your back keeping you up. A shiver ran down your spine and forced you to freeze, he must be watching you. You shifted you gaze to the monster on the throne, his full attention on you.

Meruem closed his book and placed it on the armrest with a small smirk on his face. You shivered again at the look on his face, it couldn't be good. Swallowing the growing clump of spit in your throat, you fought back the urge to get up and run. "Wh-What?"

He hummed and stood from the golden throne, his tail thrashing excitedly. That only meant one of a few things... and you didn't like either. "Come with me."

The green Chimera Ant crossed his arms and wondered past you. The suffocating feeling surrounding him started to dissipate, but you knew better than to keep him waiting.

You sat up and begrudgingly followed him through the long, marble corridors. His back was turned to you and with the windows wide open it framed his form in a warm glow. It was almost otherworldly to see this angle on him, like a gorgeous oil painting in the making.

Meruem turned to face you, his hand taking your own and pulling you into the master bedroom once used by the countries supreme ruler. Now it was used for the world's conquer. His lean frame pulled you in and lifted you in his arms bridal style. The glow on his smooth yet stern features making him all the more beautiful.

But you could only admire him so much before facing the reality of the situation, you were his prisoner and he was your captor.

The Chimera Ant wondered over to the bed and placed on it's plush, silky covers. He snaked his way above you, the dangerous smirk now turned into a sadistic smile. "I've been waiting for a moment like this. You and me tangled between the sheets and the mattress." His hand moved from beside your head to your cheek, gently caressing the flesh. "It has been a while hasn't it?" The creature purred next to your ear.

"Get off of me, Meruem." Your hands found their way past his vest and onto his chest, pushing as much as possible. He humored you a bit and made it seem as if you were strong enough, actually gaining some distance between the two of you.

There was hope, you thought, maybe you could actually push him away this time? Again you pushed his chest in hopes you could last another minute, but the flame was snuffed out as quickly as it was ignited.

His arm snaked around your waist and the other was placed harshly on your thigh. His lips buried themselves in your neck and immediately he started his onslaught. Taking small nibbles on your sensitive flesh until you involuntarily moaned. You could feel his lips against your neck curl in satisfaction.

He bit down on the spot, quickly replacing the painful action with licking and sucking the area. Your small yelp turned into suppressed moans.

A leg found its way between yours, rubbing on your lower half for some much needed attention. You began to melt within his grasp, your hips shifting to get more friction.

Meruem pulled his head back and assaulted your pink lips by biting down on your lower lip. "You're so needy, you try and push me away but you love how I touch you." You gasped at his actions, him being more forward than you remember him ever being. He took the opportunity to slide his slick muscle in, tangling his tongue with yours in a forbidden dance.

You bit his tongue as hard as you could manage, earning the king to pull back with a small hiss. "Shut up, I don't care about you." You spat back, but you both knew it was a slight lie. You love how he touched you, your body being touch deprived by being stuck in his palace for so long. But him, you hated him.

His large hand roughly grabbed you jaw while his barbed tail poked threateningly at you side. "I'm in a good mood, (y/n), don't ruin it." The spikes of his navy blue aura was enough to shape you up again. The suffocating feeling you presented on your face a beautiful sight for Meruem.

You bit back insults and threats, knowing you will only make it worse. He almost killed you once before because he was in a bad mood.

With a devilish smirk painted on his face, Meruem resumed his exploration of your body, his face burying itself within the flesh between your breasts. He hummed, the long slick muscle from his mouth licking a long strip up to your jaw line.

His four fingered hands traced upwards to your chest, grabbing the mounds and kneeding them. His forefingers and thumbs taking hold of your nipple and twisting it within his grasp.

You mewled, almost painfully, as he continued. Your back arched when he decided to pinch them a little too hard. The rutting of his leg keeping you writhing under his touch.

Meruem smirked at your face, the blood rushing to your cheeks. "I love that look...." His tone was laced in lust. The smooth voice pitched from his growing obsession.

Deciding this was enough foreplay, the Chimera Ant used his thick, needled tail to rip off the thin dress you wore. You tried to cover up your body, as if he wasn't touching you already, but he didn't want that. Instead his left hand grabbed your wrists and pinned them above your head, the other hand ripping off your bra and grabbing your now bare breast.

You mewled again, this time from the skin to skin contact. It felt so nice, two warm bodies sharing their warmth. You hated the feeling.

Meruem used his tail to replace his leg, now prodding your sensitive nub through your underwear. Quickly he found that lack luster so he tore off your underwear and used his right hand to please you.

You loudly moaned, your head being thrown back from the friction. He chuckled at your actions in a sadistic way. He obviously took pleasure in seeing you writhe from his touch.

His tail thrashed excitedly behind him while one of his fingers pushed itself inside your soaked cunt. He groaned at the feeling of your walls sucking him in, the idea of you being pleased by him exciting him even more.

You could hear the chitin plates over his crotch begin to shift and snap out of place. The large muscle coated in a aphrodisiac like slime presenting itself in all its glory. His erection was large and inhumane. Ridges following his tip down to his base while small bead like indents were on the top side.

Still he kept thrusting his thick finger into you, the appendage curling and moving inside. You let out a long, drawn out moan as he curled his finger on a sensitive area. The king smirked at your noises, his body shivering as he soaking in them. "Keep making those noises... god I love them."

Your body began to shake from the stimulation. You could feel your climax creeping closer as he kept up his thrusts. Before you could taste the sweet release he pulled his finger out, lapping up the juices coated on his appendage. "I love the way you taste, (y/n)."

Your breath caught itself within your throat, he never uses your name... not unless he is serious about something. Not unless he was going to do something bad.

Meruem roughly places his hands on your hips, his body dipping lower until his face was flush with your dripping entrance. His tongue licked a long, slow stripe up to your abused nub. Once more he shivered at the taste.

The sweet nectar causing him to roll his eyes back in ecstasy, like he was already on the verge of climaxing. The licking sped up, the grip of your hips becoming a painful reminder on how powerless you were.

Tears began to form in the corners of your eyes at the thought. You would never truly escape this hell he put you through would you? No matter how hard you tried to push him a way he won't let you go, they won't let you go.

Your moans started to get sloppy, his licking and nibbling getting faster and faster. Your writhing being kept in place by his bruising grip. You shot your head back when you finally had enough, the pleasure too overwhelming for you to try and hold it back. Liquid ecstasy rushed through your body like lightning, the greedy Chimera Ant lapping at all you can give. The disgustingly satisfying slurps almost killing you to sleep.

Despite his sadistic nature he never really denied you an orgasm, always wanting you to get your fair share of lust.

Meruem gave off a lustful yet contempt hum and leaned back to meet your gaze. His breath tickled your lips as a ghost's kiss would, the romantic gesture bringing a new found feat into your soul. The King's grin stretched unnaturally across his face, his eyes small slivered filled with a dark desire.

His large hands lifted your hips up, his pelvis alleging dangerously with your own. Through beyond tired out, you glanced down at the twitching, slick muscle prodding your entrance.

You meekly places your now free hands upon his toned chest. "Me-Meruem, don't." You pleaded.

Either he ignored you or he was becoming too primal to hear you. He sank his teeth deeply into the side of your neck, a low growl emitting from his throat. Without a warning he sheathed his entire length deep within your soaking cunt.

You gasped at both the pain shooting through your neck and your lower half. He didn't care about how you felt now, his moans twisting into feral growls as his rough pace continued without remorse.

The slime coating his member began to take effect, the pain from his thickness now turning into deep pleasure. His inhuman thrusts shot pleasure each time his rigid under-length scraped against your inner walls. The top sided beads rubbed against your clit every time he pulled out and pushed back in. His head pushing and slamming against you crevix bringing waves of painful lust through your spine.

His feverish thrusts brought stars into your vision. Each time he pushed all the way into you you swore he'd knock you into another life. The sickeningly pleasurable sound of your skin slapping against his filled the room, incoherent moans and feral growls acting as background noise to your immeasurable pleasure.

Meruem's hands slid from your hips and snaked around your waist. He hoisted you up to get a better angle, now pounding you in a seating position. Your breasts bounced at each thrust, your breathing echoing your feverish heat.

The King's pace quickened and his thrusts began to be sloppy. Your moans edged him on, closer and closer as his teeth sank into your neck once more. His tongue lapped up the quickly bruising area, blood soaking his tongue.

"Ke-Keep going!" You pleaded, his aphrodisiac covered cock pulling you into his embrace. His embrace of pleasure. "I-I'm gonna-!"

You whipped your head back and let out a loud moan, your walls clenching harshly against his still grinding member.

Meruem growled into your neck, his cock grinding almost painfully against your tightening walls. Liquid pleasure leaked down your thighs, merging with the slime like liquid from his body. The slaps became louder from the sloppy mess you two made.

With one final thrust he pushed in as hard as he could, his large member pushing past your crevix and into your womb. Thick strings of cum coated your inner walls, sticking into your womb as it filled it perfectly.

The warmth between your legs began to slowly drip past his length despite him burying himself into you fully.

Meruem heaved and put you against the bed, his heavy chest pushing you flush against his own. His grin loosened into a pleased expression, his deep purple eyes staring into your soul in almost an intimate way.

There was little room for words, you being pushed farther than you were currently conditioned to. The pleasure of being pulled into a drugged like state started to fade away as he pulled out. The last remaining wave of his cum leaking onto the bed sheets.

"You did so well, as always." Meureum commented, his hands tracing up and down your body in a massaging way. "I love you... so so much."

He pulled your limp body close to his, pulling you with him as he leaned against the pillows. You would have fought back if you weren't so tired, maybe snapped at him with a snarky remark, yet your voice was broken from crying out so much. Instead you did your best to relax under his affectionate touch, letting your mind fade into a dream like state.

"I promise to take care of you, all of us have. Sooner or later, you won't fight back."

[readyplayerhobi]

Flower | Drabble 4

; Word Count: 1.3k

; A/N: Just a random drabble I thought up, aimless fluff to give you guys a glimpse into the Flower couple a few years down the line 😀

-

"How does someone that hot end up working in IT?" Clarissa asked, her voice a mixture of incredulity and wistfulness. There's a snort of laughter from next to her as Jihyo giggles whilst Chaeyoung tuts her disapproval.

"Don't be mean, there's plenty of hot guys who work in IT. Besides, it's not like management is swimming in Calvin Klein models." She says, fingers tapping away at her keyboard.

"Err, yeah, but that's definitely model worthy."

"Okay, okay, before Chaeyoung explodes with indignation about you eyeing up our head of IT...you should know that he's married. So...please don't try anything." Jihyo laughs as Clarissa makes a sound of outrage.

"That was one time and it was a mistake, I wasn't gonna do anything. I don't need the reputation of being a homewrecker!" 

"Good, because from the photos I've seen on his desk...they have a good relationship. From what I've found out, they've been together for a while and married a few years or something. She's pretty." It's a good job that Hoseok is underneath a desk so that no one can see his smile at their words. 

He's used to hearing that people find him attractive, used to the looks and the desire that lit in people's eyes. Many years ago, he used to thrive on it.

Now, it's just nice to hear but it isn't necessary.

There's only one woman who he cares about finding him attractive, and thankfully he's already married to you. It's unusual for him to hear someone calling you pretty in his workplace, though, and he feels dual pride and happiness bubbling up inside of him.

-

There's the quiet sound of the television playing as Hoseok enters the house, kicking off his shoes and laughing as Ciri bolts around the corner. As usual, her paws have no purchase on the floor and she scrabbles desperately.

Crouching down, he opens his arms and let's her jump into them, squeezing tightly as she yelps and licks his face excitedly. Her tail whacks into his stomach repeatedly, the sound audible and he takes a moment to appreciate how great his life is.

There's nothing better than coming home to his wife, his cat and his dog.

"Okay, okay, calm down. Cal-calm down you little butt!" Hoseok laughs, putting Ciri down and finishing his routine of putting his jacket away. It doesn't stop her from jumping up at his legs, desperate to try and get back in his arms.

"Alright, alright!" He chuckles. "Let me get in, you little demon. Where's your mommy, huh? Where is she? Where's mommy?"

As he expects, your retort is quick to his blatant attempt at getting Ciri even more excited.

"Don't you dare rile her up! If she gets too excited to go to sleep later, then you're taking her for a late night walk!" 

Entering the living room with a huge grin, Hoseok takes a moment to look you over. You're curled up against your favourite arm on the couch, the soft and fuzzy patchwork blanket you love so much covering your knees whilst your fingers move the knitting needles in intricate patterns.

It's your favourite hobby lately, and Hoseok has plenty of scarves, hats and other items of clothing to prove it. The TV has an old episode of Chicago Fire playing as background noise and there's a delicious smell of tikka masala in the air.

"She'll be fine, you know she can't keep up this energy. Too small for it, aren't you, my little pumpkin?" He coos, scratching Ciri behind her ears and grinning at her obvious delight.

Moving around the couch, he sits down and let's his body relax into the soft cushions. The two of you had bought this new couch only a few months ago and he still wasn't quite used to it.

Before he can even say anything to you, Kasumi jumps up onto his lap and purrs her own welcome to him. Running his hand down her spine, he pays extra attention to the spot on her back behind her tail and chuckles as she arches into it, tail high in pleasure.

"Hey old girl, how're you?" He coos, kissing her head before pulling her into his arms for a cuddle. She's content to do so and begins to knead his arms, purr growing in volume.

"How was your day?" You get the question in before he can and the conversation he overheard earlier comes to mind immediately. The grin that spreads on his lips is hard to control, and it's not surprising that you notice it.

Eyes narrowing, your socked foot reaches out from beneath the blanket to poke at his thigh in suspicion.

"What's that smile for?"

"Nothing, I just overheard this woman at work saying she thought I was hot." Wriggling his eyebrows, Hoseok has to restrain himself from snorting at how you roll your eyes.

"Oh yeah? Did you tell her that you also leave shavings in the sink? Women don't tend to find that so hot." There's careful neutrality in your voice and he knows you're playing along with him.

Many years ago, he would've never told you something like this. You wouldn't have coped well with the knowledge and it would've likely led to stress and anxiety on your part, even though you would've known he had no intention of doing anything with anyone else.

Now though, you were confident and secure in your relationship with him. The very fact he was being so open about it was something that he knew you appreciated, that he didn't feel the need to keep it some clandestine secret. It meant he trusted you with the knowledge, trusted that you knew he didn't care about this other woman and trusted that you wouldn't get upset over it.

That didn't mean you wouldn't tease him, though.

"Hey, I have a reputation to keep up!" Hoseok says in mock outrage and you simply give him a droll look.

"You have pictures of Ciri and Kasumi on your desk, not to mention the gazillion photos of me on there. Any reputation you might have as a ladies man is gone when they see your desk." Now it's Hoseok's turn to narrow his eyes, looking you over suspiciously.

"How do you know about that? I've never told you what my desk looks like…" He trails off at the look of triumph on your face.

"I didn't, but now I do! Oh my god, that's so cute. Don't worry, I have pictures of you too." You give him that beautiful smile that he'd fallen in love with so long ago and sighs, shaking his head at how well you played him.

"Anyway, someone thinks I'm hot. But then one of the other women pointed out that I'm married and that my wife is very pretty. Which I totally agree with." There's no sarcastic response to that and he smirks at you, brow rising in challenge.

You don't say anything though, simply bite your lip shyly and look away. It makes his heart twist as he recognises the embarrassment of hearing that but also the fact that you still don't quite think you're beautiful. At least it had come from someone else this time, though.

"Anyway, that was the main thing that happened. Thought I'd let you know. Is that tikka a store bought sauce or did you make it from scratch?" Changing the subject quickly, he smiles internally as you accept his unsaid offer to move on from your moment of uncomfortableness.

You may not be there yet in terms of believing you were pretty, but he still had plenty of years to prove to you that Jihyo, and he, were right.

[oceansrevenge]

Jewelry of the Sea || Marina & Sloane

TIMING: Current-ish PARTIES: @faetedwill & @oceansrevenge SUMMARY: Sloane and Marina have a day of bonding out by the ocean shore.

Sloane slipped her shoes off just before reaching where water met land, tiny bubbles of foam curling at its edge. She looked over her shoulder at Marina who stood only a few feet away, silently wondering if she would have the opportunity to see her friend in her full form. The thought wasn’t what had brought Sloane to the beach, but it had definitely excited her enough that it got her out of bed even though she’d been dragging her feet lately. Admittedly, Sloane preferred the forest over the beach, and even Dark Score, but since having met both Marina and Teagan, she felt a new sense of purpose to help keep their domains as healthy as possible. 

 “Hey, look at this!” Sloane knelt down, picking up one of the shells that’d rolled ashore. It was a brilliant cerulean that could have matched the water on a cloudier day. Turning it over in her palm, she took care to see if anything was living on the underside, but came up empty. “This would be pretty on a necklace.” Sloane grinned at the nereid before backtracking towards the other woman, showing Marina what she had found. She looked down towards the other spoils she’d come across and knelt down, poking through them with her finger. “I think some of these would make good earrings, too.” 

 There was a certain sense of pride that came with showing off her waters. While the waters were not as peaceful as of late, Marina knew they were still beautiful all the same. Today, she felt a bit more calm coming from the water which meant it was a good day to bring Sloane to her shores for some quality time. Perhaps even show the young banshee what she looked like without her glamour. It was a nice thought, getting to share something with such a young fae and it left the nereid breathing out a contented sigh as the waves brushed over her feet. 

 “Hm,” Marina said, taking a moment to look over the shell, “It is quite beautiful. We should do that. Make a necklace for you.” The nereid held that thought as she looked over the other small treasures the banshee had collected in awe. Some were not quite jewelry worthy by the standards of most, but Neptune would appreciate them if he came swimming to the shore. The little octopus would take to Sloane much more kindly if she offered him a gift. “Earrings I have never made. I do not have the holes in my ear. I believe humans were the ones more so trained with that and the blue blood would likely be suspect,” she walked toward the small pouch she’d brought with her, “But I have made necklaces before. My sisters and I made them a lot, especially as children. Calypso was always best at it.”

 The memories were fond ones and the idea of sharing moments like that with Sloane made her smile brighten. “We will make you one a necklace. You can carry a part of the ocean with you and know it welcomes you,” Marina explained, “Perhaps we could find some fish bones too. Do banshees appreciate bone jewelry?” 

 “For me?” Sloane blinked dumbly before letting out a laugh. “I was thinking for you, since these are… technically under your care, but if you think so.” Though she had been raised by a banshee, her mother had always taught her to take great care with what was taken from the world around her– to always repay, even if in thanks. Though it could not hold her to such a thing, it was a heavy word coming from a fae, and Sloane knew that. “Hm, you’re right. They do make clip ons though. I’m sure if you told someone you were afraid of needles, they’d make them for you no problem.” 

 As Marina moved towards the pouch at the opposite end from where they stood, Sloane got to her feet. The small treasures that’d been dumped onto a small handkerchief were not forgotten, but the banshee held whatever story Marina began to tell at a greater importance, though, she guessed it all tied together in some manner given that it was a story about her sisters. “I’d love that.” And she would– really would. “We should make matching ones, or what could be matching since there’s never one thing like the other when it comes to the ocean.” Sloane cast a glance towards the rolling waves before Marina’s question sent a laugh bubbling up through her chest. 

 “Um, yes.” Sloane’s eyes lit up as she approached Marina. “Do you have any on you right now? Fish bones, I mean? The first time I met Teagan, I was at Dark Score sketching out a decaying fish and well, it was special– I think about it a lot, not because it was a fish because really I had no ties before that, but because it was when I met Teagan, and then you it was the school, and I guess the water brought me to–” Sloane snapped her mouth shut before letting out another laugh. “I’m sorry– wow, um. That’s embarrassing. What I’m trying to say is that hell yeah, I’d love to see some ocean-y bones.” 

 “Yes, for you,” Marina answered with a small laugh, “The ocean is mine to care for, just as death will one day be yours. It’s all connected.” She looked towards her waters and watched the swell of a small wave before it broke the shoreline, washing over their feet. Even the tides were influenced by the moon. “It’s all connected, a balance. One we were born to serve. I’d be honored if you had a small piece of my home as a reminder of it all.”

 While not activated, Sloane grew up knowing her purpose. Marina imagined it was something she was taught with great care just as she her mother had taught her. Though the word afraid made her lips purse into a thin line. “I am not afraid of needles,” she responded, “That would be a lie. I’m sure if I were to look, there is another fae who does such piercings. Perhaps even the ink they do for skin.” 

 The idea of matching jewelry brought a smile to her face. Marina knew she was past her best child-rearing years. Physically, she could handle it, but the idea of facing her death before her own children reached her age wasn’t one she liked to entertain. It didn’t change the gentler side of her that kids brought out. Or young adults, as Sloane would likely remind her of if she called the banshee a child again. “Matching,” she grinned, “I’d like that very much. No two are exactly alike, yes, but similar enough. Yours can remind you of me and mine of you.” She looked out at the horizon and the way the sun sparkled on the water. Just a bit further out, she knew there were some bones that would do. 

 “I do not, but I know where to find some,” Marina started, “If you do not mind holding my dress, I can fetch them. You would get to see me as I truly am. If you’d like, that is.” The sentiment behind Sloane’s words touched her. As a fae, they always respected nature, it was deeply ingrained in what they were, but their connections to each other could strengthen that. “Ah, Teagan. Beautiful nix she is. I am glad you got to see her in her waters. That we could all strengthen our ties to nature, appreciate it in different ways. I will have to introduce you to my leshy friend one day,” she told the younger fae, “He’s beautiful, how at ease he looks among the trees and moss— gives a different sort of appreciation. I will have to bring all my fae friends together one day, don’t you think?”

 Sloane nodded at Marina’s words, though she already knew them through and through. Her mom had told her from a young age that their connections as fae was what made them their most powerful, and though one would think that death couldn’t connect itself to things that thrived, as the forest nymphs and leshy’s cared for, that it wasn’t an impossible idea— that at the base of it all, they were the caretakers and guardians, not so much the harbingers as others often felt or thought. 

 “I’d love that, Marina.” Sloane’s tone softened as she watched her friend from the side. There were so many years put into this woman already, and Sloane could only imagine how many more they’d have to spend together, even if Sloane eventually left White Crest, she felt as though she’d always return to her— to Teagan, too. They were a part of each other, even if they did not share blood. Though she could not yet feel that connection, it felt buried beneath her own bones, a constant phantom vibration— the want and the need, the absolution of her fate later down the road. Here, in this moment, Sloane was unafraid of the cost. 

 “Hey! I didn’t accuse you of being afraid, but now I know.” Sloane grinned at Marina before tucking some loose curls that had escaped back behind her ear. “Necklaces and rings are enough— more than enough.” She didn’t want the nereid to think that she was ungrateful for the opportunity to even collect the shells that laid at their feet. The way that Marina watched the sunset over the ocean caused for a burn to stir in Sloane’s chest. Was it longing, to feel her purpose the way Marina did towards hers? Or was it in the same way that Sloane had decided to help Teagan watch over Dark Score? “It’d be so cool to match with you. Get to tell people, oh, sorry, this is one of a kind!” Maybe she was being slightly selfish with it, but Sloane hadn’t ever been given the opportunity to have things with others— nobody had ever really given her the chance. 

 “Wait, really?” Sloane’s eyes widened as Marina explained that she’d have the opportunity to see Marina while her glamour was dropped. She’d seen Teagan already, and though Sloane knew that the two would be far from alike, there was an excitement in getting trusted with such a thing. It was hard to focus on anything else Marina said after realizing she’d get to see the nereid in her truest form, but she nodded. “I’d love to meet your friends, and maybe one day they can become my friends.” And then I’ll scream for them one day, and then— She cleared her throat as she glanced towards the water. “Is Neptune out there too?” 

 Marina shook her head with a fond grin still on her face. The young banshee in training had quite the sense of humor and she appreciated that. Surely, the young woman would bring chaos with her past her activation, like any true fae would. “Rings and necklaces it is,” she stated proudly, “They are fun to make and it’d be an honor to match with you. Perhaps we could make something for Teagan and Correy, too. Don’t let Correy fool you. He’s as sentimental as they come. Even set up a saltwater shower at the lighthouse for me without being asked.” The sense of community she found in the other fae in town was something that made her feel at home. Something she’d missed for so many centuries and had told herself she hadn’t needed. But now that she had it, she wasn’t sure she could ever part with it again. These small moments of sharing in and appreciating each other’s nature were some of the most beautiful she’d known in all her years. 

 “Yes, really,” Marina answered, gleaming with pride, “I know you are not yet activated, but will still appreciate the beauty of a nymph’s true form. And one day, I hope to see yours. I wonder if you’ll have wings.” The nereid had always been particularly charmed by wings. Nereides did not typically have such an appendage, but the hesperides she’d met before had some of the most magnificent forms she’d seen. “If you share some shells when I bring Neptune back, you’ll make friends quickly.” 

 “Here,” Marina said, handing Sloane the thin dress she had been wearing, “Don’t want to rip this when I drop my glamour.” Once the banshee had her dress, the nereid let her true form show. All at once, she grew in size, becoming the giant octopus she truly was. Her orange skin sparkled in the sunlight and in a moment of showing off, her skin flashed from orange to beige to black and right back to orange. She tentatively reached a tentacle out toward Sloane in a gentle motion, inviting the banshee to touch her equivalent of a hand.

 Sloane was more than elated to be able to match with Marina. It was an honor disguised as a young fae wanting to match up to an older one, and she knew that when it came down to it, it’d be a keepsake for as long as she was alive. At the mention of both Teagan and Correy, Sloane let out a laugh. “Oh, trust me, I know he’s a big ‘ol softy. He can’t trick me. I’m too smart to believe he has a permanent scowl on his face. I’ve seen him smile.” Before meeting any of them, Sloane had felt isolated, even if she had a community of those she was blood related to. She still struggled to find equal ground, always feeling below her mom or other relatives, but even without being activated, this small group of fae had shown her that it didn’t matter— that she would be alongside them in due time. 

 “I hope so. My mom does.” Sloane, once made aware of who she would become, had always imagined her wings to be beautiful things. She had always stared in amazement at her mother’s, as well as other family member’s, but there was somewhat of a fear in the back of her mind that she wouldn’t be given the same beauty. “But I’ll be sure to show them to you.” She smiled softly at Marina as she followed her to the shore, taking the dress that the older woman handed over. 

 “It’s a pretty dress, so yeah, that would suck.” Sloane scrunched her nose as she watched the waves roll, then her attention was swallowed entirely as Marina dropped her glamour. “Holy shit, you look so cool!” Sloane was careful not to drop the dress into the water as she extended a hand, index finger poking against the tentacle that Marina extended. “Wow, you’re beautiful, Marina.” Sloane’s gaze was filled with admiration as she stared onward at her friend. Though they were different in nature, if Sloane could be half the fae that Marina was, she figured she was doing pretty alright. “You’re like a piece of the sun, you’re that orange!” 

 Once the young banshee was activated, Marina found herself excited to see what she would become. The nereid had no doubt that Sloane would be great, she was a banshee afterall. Her screams would be able to rip through the thickest of skin and she’d be a hand of the Fates. She wondered if this was how her mother felt as she and her sisters grew up and became more in tune with their different abilities. The look of joy she wore when Doris first snapped a man in two with her claws would always be emblazoned in Marina’s memories. She knew her own would be similar when she first heard Sloane’s screams in the distance and looked upon the wings she was sure to sprout. 

 That warmth remained as she felt Sloane touch her outstretched tentacle and look upon her in awe. Marina always felt most beautiful in this form, as her true self, embodying her nature and connection to the water she called home. The excitement radiating from Sloane filled her with joy that made her dance on her tentacles. “It is my favorite color,” her low voice rumbled, “I will go get Neptune and the fish bones.” 

 The octopus sped off into the water, moving with the current toward the spot she knew a pile of fish bones lay. It wasn’t long before Marina had Neptune swimming alongside her so she slowed her pace just slightly. She grabbed the bones and let Neptune cling to her so they could make a quick return to the shore. As she neared the beach again, she put her glamour back up carrying Neptune in one hand and the bones in the other. “Here,” she said, handing the bones to Sloane, “Let me just put my dress back on and we can get started on the jewellery. And introduce you to Neptune of course.”  

 “This might sound stupid, but you don’t get to choose it, do you?” Sloane knew the question might be ignorant, but she swore she read something about octopus being able to change their colors to blend into their surroundings, so it was possible that Marina had decided on orange to suit not her needs, but her personality and what she actually liked. Where the line was drawn before animalistic nature and fae nature, however, Sloane was uncertain. “But I like orange. It suits you really well.” She smiled at Marina, hopeful that she hadn’t offended her friend by the question.

 Sloane watched in amazement as Marina slipped into the water, moving faster than Sloane could ever dream of swimming. She held onto the dress tightly, squinting towards the sea. It wasn’t long before Marina arrived back on shore, and who she assumed to be Neptune in tow. The banshee took a small step back as Marina reinstated her glamor. She knew the way in which fae magic worked, but it would still amaze her, despite the knowledge she held. “Sure, here you go.” Sloane watched as Neptune suctioned himself to Marina’s hand, giving him a little wave with her index finger before exchanging the dress for the bones. “I appreciate the bones, Marina.” The urge to say thank you hung just beneath her tongue. She could trust Marina, and she knew that, but her mom’s voice echoed in her head. 

 Once Marina was dressed, Sloane led the way back to their small pile of goods. The shells had already dried beneath the sun, despite the cold front that’d begun to move in. “Where should we start?” She looked up to her friend, smile still intact. As she made eye contact with Neptune, she hummed, inching closer to Marina. “Can I hold him?” 

 “My base color,” Marina asked, “The orange is the color I was born with. The others I get to choose for camouflage.” She’d always loved her natural orange hue, often choosing to wear that very color when she had to wear human garments to avoid arrest. The clothes being in her favorite color did make them slightly more tolerable, but only slightly. It brought her great joy that Sloane appreciated her form and natural color, that she could share this with the young fae. “I’m glad. I like it, too. It’s my favorite color,” she smiled.

 “There is no better place for the bones than with a banshee,” Marina stated, truly believing dead things were at home with Sloane’s kind. “I’ve been saving bones I find for you and another banshee friend of mine.” She hoped they were fresh enough to not be considered an insult though Sloane seemed appreciative of the gift. The banshee was still so young and Marina felt lucky she would get to watch her come into her own. “Over this way, there is a small little pool in the sand that Neptune can relax in,” she explained, as she followed alongside Sloane.

 The question made Marina beam with pride. “Of course you may,” she answered, extending her arm so that Neptune could crawl onto Sloane’s hand. “He may take a shell for himself. Has a little collection, makes tools. He’s a smart little fellow.” 

 Sloane nodded, glad that she had been right about something. Studying did the trick, that much was certain. At the back of her mind, Sloane tucked away that Marina’s favorite color was orange, fully planning to gift her things in that color if she came across anything that she thought the nereid would appreciate. It was important to Sloane that she give back to the fae in her life who had given her just as much. “It’s really pretty on you, like really!” 

 It was a lifeline, Sloane realized, being able to connect to other fae on this level. They served each other, even in the smallest of ways. Though she could not yet feel their connection, Sloane knew that it was only a matter of time before she could. “Hey, I really appreciate that.” Sloane could thank Marina, but she knew that the nereid would probably throw it out the window and give her a lecture. At least, that’s what Sloane would do if the roles were reversed. “I’ll take good care of them, I do with everything else.” A smile pulled at the corners of her lips as she followed Marina to the small pool of water. “And him, too.” 

 Sloane knelt next to the pool, Neptune traveling from Marina’s hold to her own. The banshee stared down at him as he began to mess with one of the bigger shells at the pool’s bottom just as Marina had explained he would. “They’re really cool, aren’t they? I mean, that makes you really cool too, but like— I don’t know, it’s really eye opening, being on this side of things, I guess.” She felt gratified to know that she was worthy enough to spend this kind of time with another fae, and a nereid no less. It was like when she and Teagan had picnics at the edge of Dark Score. 

Even in her younger years, Marina had never been shy about her beauty. It was simply a fact that all of their kind possessed a certain beauty that other species simply could not rival. She had always adored the praise that she quite frankly always believed she had deserved. She smiled and made herself at home beside Sloane because this was home. Her waters, her people, her creatures. All of them created a sense of home she hadn’t felt in far too long, one she had told herself she may never feel again, but here she was, alongside a young banshee sharing her world. 

 “Good,” Marina nodded, “I’m certain you do. It’s in your nature, even now.” Everything was cyclical, she could see Sloane appreciating the lifecycle at all its stages. Bright and lively in Neptune as he crawled over her hand and in its stages of decay in the fish bones that would one day be part of the earth yet again. Just as one day, when Marina was long gone, the banshee would live on and serve her duty to the Fates. Right now, she appreciated this moment of in between, feeling that connection to another fae even without the familiar buzz under her skin. “Cool, yes,” she agreed, “I suppose you’re right on that one. I’ve always thought so anyway. But I think that makes us all cool as you put it.” 

 And it did. Though Marina believed fascinating was more apt. Either way, she would enjoy these moments between them and hoped to one day see the young banshee reach her full potential. 

[not-me-simping-for-blasty]

Wrong Number, Asshole - A Bakugou Katsuki Soulmate AU

All Parts

Part 11:

“So, what, you’ve just known about your soulmate for over a week? And you didn’t tell me!” Your best friend huffs, slouching into the booth across from you. 

The café you had decided to meet Selene in seemed abnormally loud today, but even through the noise you could hear her frustration. And you understood it too- she’d been listening to you fantasize about your soulmate for years now, so much so that it must have gotten annoying. But she listened anyway, and apparently you repaid that favor by not even telling her when your tattoo appeared, nor when you actually met him. 

You couldn’t help it though. As much as you wanted to gush about it to everyone, another part of you wanted to keep it a secret. You didn’t wanna share Bakugou yet, as selfish and ridiculous as that sounded.

“I know, I know, I’m sorry; but honestly, it was just super surreal. Like I didn’t know how to talk about it.” You meet her eyes, grateful to see that even through her frustration, Selene still just looked happy for you. 

“It’s fine, it’s fine. Had to give you a little shit, but really I’m excited for you.” She takes a sip of her drink, leaning forward on your elbows. “Can I see the tattoo?”

You pale.

It really was an ugly tattoo. Messy and scribbly and poorly drawn, and odd even  as far as soulmate tattoos go. Every other person you’d known with a soulmate tattoo - which, granted, wasn’t many- had a name. Even your soulmate himself had your name! But you didn’t. You had his phone number, and no matter which way you thought about it, you couldn’t figure out why that was.

“Yeah, it’s uh, on my collarbone.” You unzipped your jacket, pulling it to the side to reveal the tattoo. 

“It’s- it’s, um, not what I expected.”

“That’s what I said. It showed up on my birthday,” You shrugged. “Wasn’t there the night before, but when I woke up it was just sitting there.”

“Why a phone number?” She questions, poking at the mark with a gentle finger. “And why does it look like-”

“Like that?” You chuckle, pushing her hands away and zipping your jacket up once more. “I have absolutely no idea. I’ve never seen anyone else with a phone number before; even Bakugou has my name.” 

“Um, who?” 

“His name’s Bakugou. My soulmate, I mean.”

“Wait- you talked to him? And you still didn’t tell me? You bitch!” Selene throws her head back, a laugh tumbling out of her lips. “I thought you’d just been hiding the tattoo, I didn’t know you were hiding him too!”

“Shut up- you’re being so loud!” 

“I can’t help it! This is just so exciting!”

“Yeah. It is.”

“Y/n,” You watched your friend straighten, a wicked smile crawling across her lips. “What’s that look about, huh, does somebody have a crush?”

You can feel you cheeks and ears flushing, but you don’t say anything. Selene just stares at you, wide manic grin across her face that just seems to make you blush even more. It’s a stalemate until she reaches across the table, poking at your red cheek. You break.

“God, fine, maybe- I don’t know, okay!” You huff, looking down to avoid her eyes. “We’ve talked like everyday since my tattoo came in, but I still feel like I don’t knowing anything about him!” 

“Huh-”

“He’s so, like, dodgy- about everything I ask him. It was like pulling teeth just to get his name! And it’s not even his full name! Just his last.” You pulled at your jacket, sinking into your seat. “Bakugou just like, avoids everything I ask him! I’ve told him about my quirk, and what I’m studying, but he won’t tell me anything! He just like gives me a two-word answer or calls me a name- which is fine, I actually find that part funny- but still. He gives me nothing. Absolutely fuck all nothing unless I literally beg for it!” 

“Woah, okay, breathe, Y/n. ” Selene holds a placating hand towards you. “Look, I’m sure he has his reasons. I mean, they’re probably shitty reasons since he’s like a 20 year old gu-”

“21.”

“Yeah, okay, since he’s 21, and definitely immature, but they’re still his reasons.”

“Who the fuck cares about reasons? I mean we’re literally soulmates. We’re gonna know everything about each other eventually, so I have no idea why he’s being so cagey! Actually, now that I think about it, it’s really kind of irritating!”

You gasp suddenly, not realizing how involved your rant had gotten. Apparently you were more upset than you realized, or at least significantly more annoyed.

You think back to how you felt yesterday- after you’d read Sunshine at the end of his text. You were light and airy and happy, but all of that seemed to have faded. God, what you wouldn’t give to feel like that now.

Selene waves a hand in front of your face, up and down in front of your eyes until you meet her gaze.

“I get that. I understand where that would come from, but all that really matters is whether or not you like talking to him- do you like talking to him?”

“Yes.” You say simply, surprised by how easy the conclusion was to come to. “I do.” 

“Then don’t stress, sweetie.” Selene pats your hand. “Tell me about the things you do like.”

“Yeah. Okay.” Your smile is small, timid, unsure, but you find the words come easy. “I like that he’s funny- and that he swears a lot. And that might be even more funny, because sometimes I’ll look at my texts and I swear it’s like there’s a 12 year old on the other end.” 

Selene just smiles, nodding to urge you on.

“I like that he gets super shy if I say anything nice to him- it’s like he freezes up and just swears everywhere and types in all caps.” You feel your cheeks heating up as you speak, but that doesn’t stop you. “I like that he’ll text me if I don’t text him- and that he responds fast when I do. And I like that he’s blunt- there’s less words for me to get anxious over that way.” 

“Alright. I’ve decided.” 

“Excuse me?”

“I like him for you.” She shrugs. “And I have good opinions so don’t argue.”

“But he still-”

“Yeah, I get it. But at the end of the day he’s still your soulmate, right?” She leans forward, tapping your forehead. “So stop overthinking it. You wouldn’t have that tattoo if he wasn’t supposed to be good for you.”

“Yeah.” You feel the sudden urge to hug her, overcome with yet another reason why you loved her so much. “I was being sort of ridiculous wasn’t I?”

“No, not ridiculous. It’s a valid complaint.”  

You nod.

“He does need to start telling you more, especially if you’re already telling him about you.” Selene brushes her hair back with an errant hand. “But I also think you tend to fixate on reasons to leave instead of looking for reasons to stay- and I’m not gonna let you do that this time.” 

You just look up at her, finding nothing but Selene’s gentle smile. 

It hits you then that she’s right. You did always search for the bad instead of making your own good. With relationships. With friendships. Even with school- but she was right. You couldn’t do that this time. It wouldn’t just affect you, it’d affect Bakugou too. 

“Hey, I love you, you know?” You suddenly tell her.

“I know. You’re my ride or die, bitch, of course you do.” She laughs. “Now c’mon, lets go actually order, and you can let me read through all those texts you were talking about.”  

“No!” 

She just laughs, grabbing your hand and dragging you towards the register.

--/--

Later that night you’re sitting with your phone in hand, nerves making a tangled mess of your insides.

You were stalling.

There was a part of you, a big part of you that just wanted to ask him. Ask him about his full name, and his quirk, and his job, or his school if that’s where he was- about his life, and just not take no for an answer. Wanted to needle and pry and be annoying until you had one fact about him to match every one you’d already given him about yourself.

But there was another part of you too. Another part that wanted to see him call you Sunshine and keep him happy instead of possibly irritating him. And that part was screaming just as loud.

You groaned, setting your phone down once again, and rolling onto your side. Your eyes caught on to the TV. You’d switched it on earlier, hoping the background noise of the local news could help settle your nerves, but it didn’t work. As of now though, you were quickly held captive by the footage you saw.

On screen was a recap of a battle that had occurred a few days ago- and it didn’t look good. The villian was terrifying; a black, oozing mass of tar that seemed to swallow people and objects whole. It was running a rampage through the city, it’s undeniable strength completely unchallenged by the police force- until suddenly? An explosion. Multiple explosions. Big, loud, noisy explosions and chaos and bright light until the villain was shot clean through with a grenade blast. The villain fell, engulfed by a cloud of smoke and debris.

You watched as the smoke cleared from the camera footage, only seeing the vaguest outline of a man before they were jetting offscreen by the force of their own explosions. 

“Burgeoning pro-hero Dynamite yet again saving the day, and then quickly leaving the scene.” The newscaster announced, voice drowning out the sound of the disaster footage. 

The scene switches as the fight recap footage ends. The usual roundtable of reporters is shown instead, and they quickly begin discussing the fight.

“It’s not altogether surprising,” A woman says. “In fact, it’s almost better if he leaves, don’t you think? I mean, surely no one’s forgotten what happened in Hosu right?”

Another reporter winces. “Yep, definitely not. Even a year out from the incident it’s still hard to see him in the same light as before.”

You shift on your bed, suddenly scared half to death by the loud sound of your phone hitting the floor. 

Fuck. 

Even after the quick break, you still couldn’t decide what to say to him. 

Luckily, he didn’t let you worry about that for much longer.