#every gender everywhere all at once

[tropotropotropo]

Obsessed with the new Tachibana x Jinguuji dynamic

[chososrightnipple]

❝𝐣𝐣𝐤 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 + 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐬 (𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐰𝐨)❞

a/n: almost four hundred followers omg.. i love all you freaks mwah!! here is part two as promised. included some requests for characters. aged up! megumi and yuji of course. might do a part three maybeeee? afab body w/no gendered language as usual.

part one.

── დ ──

. *. ⋆ TOJI FUSHIGURO

▸ panty stealing. he thinks of it as memorabilia. snatching your panties from the floor before you have the chance to put them back on- just something he keeps to remember you bye.

▸ daddy kink. we all saw this coming, right? you call him daddy once and it's all he needs to fuck you into the bed for the rest of the night.

▸ thigh riding. seeing you frotting against his large thigh, desperate to cum, pussy practically drooling for it... his favorite foreplay 100%.

▸ cum play. this man will cum anywhere and everywhere and he'll love it. let him cum on your face, your ass, your chest, your back, down your throat, etc etc.

▸ hatefucking. angry sex after an argument where he takes out all of the stress you caused him on your poor holes :(

▸ breeding. you can give him another baby, can't you? you can make him a daddy all over again, right? just let him cum inside of you as much as he wants, he'll make it happen, he swears.

▸ exhibitionism. you grind against him once on the bar floor and next thing you know he's dragging out to the empty alleyway and pressing you against the nearest wall.

▸ size difference. he's so large, so big, every single part of him practically overtaking you. and he gets off on that fact so fucking hard!!

. *. ⋆ NANAMI KENTO

▸ cockwarming. seating himself inside your warm pussy while he's stuck doing all kinds of boring paperwork. he'll fuck you, he swears, you just gotta sit pretty on his lap for a little bit, okay?

▸face fucking. he loves taking out all of his stress on you. gripping your hair as he uses your mouth mercilessly, bullying his cock down the back of your tight throat.

▸blindfolding. silk ribbons in a variety of colors that he matches to the underwear you're modeling for him. only the best for his lover <3

▸ thigh riding. there's no better way to put him in the mood than pathetically grinding yourself against his thigh, using his body selfishly for your own pleasure.

▸ hair pulling. y'all know that one scene... he pulls at your hair exactly like that. fingers going white with how tight he's tugging at you, manipulating your position until you're face to face with his scowl.

▸ spanking. makes you count for every slap and if you miscount, he's starting all over again. pay better attention to him next time, yeah?

▸ semi-public. yes, he will bend you right over his desk, no he doesn't care there's a meeting going on next door. or better yet, against the window of the fourth floor, overlooking the busy street below it.

▸ phone sex. it really isn't any problem that he's across the country on a mission. even just the sound of your whines over the phone is enough to get him off.

. *. ⋆ MEGUMI FUSHIGURO

▸ panty stealing. he would say he feels bad about it, but he doesn't. you looked so good in the lacey little things, he can't help but want to keep them for later. even has his own little drawer for them.

▸ masochism. the stinging pain of your nails running down his back is utterly euphoric. and don't get him started on how harshly you tug at his hair when he's eating you out- he can cum in his boxers just from that alone.

▸ breast play. massaging at the skin, feeling the plumpness under his fingertips. sucking at your nipples and leaving a trail of kisses down the valley of your breasts. he's obsessed.

▸ edging. leaving you just on the brink of release over and over again, until tears are streaming down your face. he'll let you cum eventually, you just look so pretty this worked up for him.

▸ marking. oh my goddd do not get megumi started on this. he doesn't know why it gets him so worked up- seeing you covered in the hickeys and bite marks that he's left on you- but it does.

▸ cunnilingus. eats you out like a man starved, like he'll never eat you out again. pulling him away from your poor pussy is next to impossible if he's not yet done with his meal.

▸ mutual masturbation. sometimes you both just need to relaxation of release and nothing more. sitting across from each other on the bed, or maybe side by side, listening to the moans of the other as you both touch yourselves.

▸ dacryphilia. like adoptive father like adopted son. seeing your eyes brim with tears from how good he's fucking you drives him crazy.

. *. ⋆ YUJI ITADORI

▸ ass play. we all know he's an ass man i mean come on?! doggy style is his favorite position just because of it. seeing how the fat of your ass moves with every slap of his hips is fucking addicting.

▸ praise kink. tell him how good he's fucking you and how much of a good boy he is pleaseeee!!!!

▸ toys. he didn't realize how much he would love bringing toys into the bedroom until he sees how hard you can cum around him while he holds a vibrator to your clit.

▸ raw sex. he knows it's stupid, fucking you with no protection. you're pussy just feels so good, so warm, he needs to fuck you raw.

▸ face riding. please sit on his face, suffocate him, he doesn't care. it's his favorite position to eat you out.

▸ overstimulation. poor baby doesn't even mean to overstimulate you half of the time- he just has so much stamina, you understand that, right? and seeing you so flushed and fucked out under him has him so horny. just one more round, yeah? you can do that for him, right?

▸ dirty talk. yuji is a yapper and that doesn't stop when he's fucking you. the filth that comes out of his mouth has you wet just thinking about it.

▸ dry humping. the tension, the intimacy, the panting, the friction?? all of it, it's like a drug to him.

[pomefioredove]

need overblot boys with epel, and floyd with a reader that randomly lore drops as if they're an old dad like "yeah lol my old school had a shooting once....anyways *SNOREE*" and when asked they just agree and walk away and never elaborate whatsoever💀 if you feel uncomfortable feel free to delete or ignore‼️love ya pookie💥

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ a reader with a backstory

I got u 🫡🫡

summary: wacky reader lore type of post: headcanons characters: riddle, leona, azul, floyd, jamil, vil, epel, idia, malleus additional info: romantic, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu

you find new ways to raise Riddle's blood pressure every day

little guy is worried enough as it is

you've already got your school work, taking care of Ramshackle, taking care of Grim, taking care of all the other freshmen, taking care of-

well... you get it

the last thing he needs is to hear another one of your stories

"oh, yeah, that's like the time I got stabbed"

"????? WHAT??"

what's entertaining to you and ADeuce is mortifying to Riddle

if you're not careful you'll end up sleeping on the floor in his room

where he can keep a close eye on you

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

you're like Leona's little court jester

and he takes you with him everywhere

it's not easy to get a genuine laugh out of him, after all

besides, what's so bad about a little dark humor? it's not like you died or anything

he knows you're a resilient little thing

and you seem to love telling him about "that time you crawled into a drainage pipe", anyway

you make him laugh; he likes you

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Azul indulges you

his white noise machine stopped working last month and you make for excellent background ambience

so, he lets you talk yourself in circles about your school work, your friends, Grim, Grim again

and then you drop the most HEINOUS bombshells in the middle

"blah blah blah Grim, blah blah Crowley, blah blah, that one time I got lost in the woods for a day, blah blah-"

he loses his train of thought every time

now, Floyd is the complete opposite

he will hyperfocus on the most mundane details

and ignore the bombshells

will give you an, "oh, that's cool" to your ghost story but will find you the pair of socks you mentioned liking three months ago

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Jamil is just fascinated by you

you as a person, of course

but also the fact that you're still alive

one night, he's explaining the reason he makes all of Kalim's food and you're like

"oh, yeah, I get it. I got mold poisoning once and hallucinated for a week"

?????

then you go right back to asking him about the recipe

sitting on the counter, as happy as could be

"HOW ARE YOU STILL ALIVE!!!"

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Vil is used to this

he knows that look on your face

he will shush you with a finger to your lips before you even start

"don't tell me, I'm stressed enough as it is"

he's going to break out if you keep at it

he finds you quite... macabre

which is entertaining until he sees you going down a flight of stairs without holding onto the railing and remembers all those stories you'd told him

he's just... concerned for you, that's all

and he does NOT appreciate Epel for encouraging it

"tell us more about the time you fell down that hill into that pile of rocks, Prefect!"

:D

like a kid in a candy store

learning new Lore is like the highlight of his week

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

"talk about having a high luck stat..."

Idia is more entertained than anything

he thought these kinds of things only happened in anime, but...

...there you are

it sounds like you experience more in a single month than he has in his whole life

and you know what?

GOOD

you can keep your freaky real-world experiences!

he'll just live vicariously through you

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

poor Malleus

he's been putting so much effort into learning and blending with human culture, and now here you are with your terrifying stories

you tell him in such earnest, too

you seem so... unbothered by it

perhaps humans are less fragile than he thought?

of course, he shouldn't have underestimated you in the first place :)!

then you come over for dinner one night

"hahah, yeah, last time I was at someone's house their grandma threw a lamp at my head and I got a concussion"

Silver and Sebek both go >_>

Lilia goes <_<

and then Malleus is there like, "ah, another fascinating tale :)"

[spatialwave]

just one more.

➸ ask: “Hey! How about “one more kiss, please” from the prompt list for Jayce. I just need him desperately yearning for reader” – ➸ pairing: jayce talis x gn!reader ➸ word count: 1.3k ➸ tags: mdni! fluff, kissing, yearning, mutual pining, gender-neutral reader, no mention of y/n. ➸ notes: tysm for asking! ask came from this prompt!

You couldn’t count on ten fingers how many nights you dreamt of Jayce Talis, the Man of Progress himself. The image of him rattled through your mind at every waking hour, that stupid smile you always wanted to wipe from his lips with your own. 

What you hadn’t known was how he reciprocated the sentiment. Jayce would find you at your workstation, dirt on your face and welding goggles on as you carefully put together pieces that would host the hextech gemstones for further research. You had become a treasure to him, someone he could rely on when his days were busy, which were more often than not.

There were plenty of times you hadn’t been aware of his presence, he would stand in the doorway watching you work. Hearts for eyes and forcing himself to turn away before his heart ached too much, knowing that you weren’t his.

He yearned for you each day, staying up into the late hours, wondering if you felt the same.

How could you? You were too…perfect. 

It was the night of one of Piltover’s illustrious charity events that brought in only the richest of citizens. Any and all who put in their well-earned money for the academy, and you, had been invited by Jayce himself. Viktor had decided against it, not so much inclined to spend his night at another event when he could be spending his evening in the lab with Sky.

So, you took his spot – and you did not belong.

With your hand wrapped around an empty glass which once held a darkened liquor, you stood off to the side in the large area that had been decorated so elegantly. The tunes of the live music and sounds of chatter filled your ears, eyes looking amongst the swarm of rich Piltovians sharing conversation about gods knows what.

Jayce had been everywhere and nowhere, the Golden Boy was easily the most important icon of the evening. Everyone wanted to talk with him, ask about his research and his plans for improvement of the city. 

It was irritating to be stuck alone, but at least the invitation filled your stomach with top-shelf food and liquor you wouldn’t be able to afford yourself.

There Jayce stood amongst a group of rich folk, eating him up, just like you knew they would. He was surrounded, a big smile on his lips as he moved his way through each conversation with his natural knack of charisma. You wondered what he was talking about, watching his lips move as he spoke so goddamn passionately, hands flying with each word. 

His eyes connected with yours at one point, lingering on you for a quick moment with that stupid smile, before his attention was enraptured by another generous donor.

After a few more minutes of watching, you gave up. There was nothing else for you here.

Footsteps clicked along the surface of the tiled floors, the empty halls more inviting than the gala ever was. Your fingers dragged along the surface of the brick walls, the liquor having left you in just the perfect amount of bliss as you made your way home, knowing you could sleep the next day away.

“Hey!” A voice called from behind you, startling you with a soft gasp.

You snapped your head around, eyes widening when they settled on Jayce hurrying down the hall behind you. He wore a smile, wearing too fancy of clothing to be chasing you down.

“Why are you leaving?” He asked once he reached a few steps away of you, breathing a bit heavy, “Sorry… out of breath,” he chuckled through deep inhales, “I didn’t think I’d catch up to you.”

The thumping of your heart against your rib cage didn’t go unnoticed, stilled in silence over the fact that he chased after you. A tiny smile spread across your lips.

“It’s not really my style,” you finally replied, hands landing on your hips, “why do you care if I leave?”

“Why do I care?” Jayce’s eyebrows furrowed together, “because I invited you here. I… I want you here.”

You hated how sweet he was.

“You’re a busy man, Jayce,” you smiled, offering a slight shake of your head as you stepped toward him, better seeing him under the dim lighting of the empty hallways, “I’m not too fond of just standing around watching you get swarmed by every wealthy person from Piltover. As inviting as that sounds.”

He snorted out a laugh, eyes watching you closely as you stepped directly below one of the overhanging lights. It illuminated your features perfectly, made you appear like a glowing angel.

“So, you’re just going to leave me here by myself?” He asked, those big eyes of his making you want to melt right into the floor beneath you.

You laughed in disbelief, raising an eyebrow, “you’re not alone.”

“But I want you here,” he was adamant, eyebrows furrowing again, “come on. It’s not that bad.”

“You’re annoying,” you groaned, trying to act like this was worse than it was. You had a flair for the dramatics when you needed to pull something out from your sleeve, “I’ll see you tomorrow anyway, it’s fine,” you brushed him off with a wave of your hand, “plus, you’re going to be busy all night, so if I stay, I’ll end up getting drunk by myself and that’s never turned out well for me.”

Jayce’s eyes flickered over your face, studying your expression carefully. Neither of you had realized how close you had gotten, close enough that he could tuck back some of your hair behind your ear. The movement of his hand made you both tense up, a fleeting touch that he hadn’t realized he’d done. Fingers brushed against the shell of your ear as he pulled his hand away, redness tinting his cheeks.

“Oh, uh–” he forced out an awkward laugh, eyes now looking anywhere other than your face, “you had some hair… in your face.”

Lips parted, but you couldn’t speak. His touched left you stunned in place, eyes big as you watched him. You watched as his eyes focused somewhere along the walls, hands balling into tense fists and teeth biting at his lower lip.

Maybe it was the alcohol, or the late hour of the night, but you hadn’t the slightest care in the world anymore. All you wanted was Jayce, and it was his fault that he made you feel this way, so you were going to pull him into the mess that was you.

Even if it ruined the friendship you worked so hard to maintain, all these years.

His amber eyes landed back on you when he felt your hands reaching to his cheeks, cupping his face oh-so delicately. They widened as he watched you lean closer, noticing the way your gaze flickered down to his lips he’d been habitually chewing on all evening.

Jayce’s heart fluttered, and he acted on what felt right. Meeting you halfway and sighing when your lips touched after years of imagining what this would feel like. 

Both hands reached out for you, resting on your waist as he pressed forward. The kiss developed slowly, lips moving together a bit clumsily as your patience wore thin. Hands explored each other, touching hips and shoulders, and your tongue slipped from between your lips, and that’s when you froze.

“Fuck,” you whispered as you pulled back, taking a slight step away, “sorry–”

“No, don’t,” he whispered, closing the distance with a forward step until your chests were pressed together. He stared deep into your eyes, his own full of love as his gaze continued to flicker down to your lips that he needed to taste again, “one more kiss… please.”

You smiled like an idiot.

“Just one more,” you murmured, rolling your eyes affectionately, before he pulled you back into another kiss that took the breath from your lungs.

Jayce would be the death of you.

[fangirls-just-want-to-have-fun]

these pieces of media 🤝 empathy is a superpower

I just have a lot of feelings okay

[togament]

𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬. sakura, ume, kaji, suo, kiryu, togame.

"ever caught yourself fantasizing how they'd be as your lover? ever wanted to smooch them so badly you just wanna-- look no further, sweetie."

𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: general FLUFF NATION BABIIIEEEE, a bit of language but only if you squint a little, I made it as gender neutral as possible but pls lmk if I made some mistakes!, our men are lovesick and absolutely down bad BAD, quick mention of bumping uglies, kaji the crowdkiller, brainworm infestation things, bibi went to yap town with togame's.

𝐬𝐚𝐤𝐮𝐫𝐚.

- big on acts of service BUT IS HORRIBLE AT HIDING HOW MUCH HE LIKES DOING STUFF FOR YOU. hear me out. he’d be the one opening doors for you, covering your head with his jacket when it’s raining outside (he’s getting soaked and you nag him about getting sick)…. all that. He’s blushing profusely. When you smile up at him, he immediately smiles back but then he claps a hand over his mouth to hide it. Give him time ok he’ll come around.

- he loves you. of course that’s a given because you’re his lover BUT BUT. he love LOVES you. like a lot. so much that it’s kind of painful, you know what I mean? Like he wants to express it so friggin bad, but he doesn’t know how to. His words escape him, he panics when he makes a move. He’s spent many a night just staring down at you with the most lovestruck eyes while you’re fast asleep. Tears falling from his eyes because he’s so happy you chose HIM of all people. He never thought he’d be worthy of being loved, of being trusted, of being CONSIDERED. You gave all of that to him and more. GOD he loves you.

- is super conflicted about PDA lol sometimes he wants to hold your hand in public, kiss you all over, hug you, but god damn it he’s blushing from head to toe whenever he’s around you. He’s got the cuteness aggression fever but he can’t let it ouuuttttt 🗣️🗣️🗣️

𝐮𝐦𝐞.

- EVERYTHING IS HIS LOVE LANGUAGE. Like, if you’re not into physical touch, he’d do something else for you. If you’re not the acts of service type and you wanna do stuff yourself, that’s cool too!!! He can manage!!!! Although he’d want to help you out so bad but…. He’s cheering on you from the sidelines. On that note, he’s your biggest (and loudest) cheerleader! You’d have an achievement and no matter how small or big it is, his friends and neighbors and the random strangers he passes by know about it and how amazing you are. BECAUSE YOU ARE.

- loves it when you help him out in the garden hehehe loves it extra if you know how to take care of the veggies and fruits hehehehe like, you’d be tending to the potted plants and he’s checking for aphids on the other side of the garden. You’re actively pruning the basil the right way so it’d grow bushier, you’re hand pollinating the pumpkins, you even suggested on doing the three sisters method so you’d yield more harvest in the coming months. He may or may not have begged you to marry him once or fifty times every time he’s caught you doing that. (Ofc you’ve said yes once or fifty times lol)

- WORST CUTENESS AGGRESSION FEVER SUFFERER. You cannot convince me otherwise. You’d be doing the most mundane things, walking down the road with him, lounging on the couch with your belly out and body contorted in the most unattractive position, just STANDING THERE….. he’s immediately on you, peppering kisses everywhere his lips can reach, hugging you so close, rubbing his face all over youdbjfjdndnnd CUTENESS AGGRESSION IS UMEMIYA AND UMEMIYA IS CUTENESS AGGRESSION. If he could he’d bite you. He has btw. On multiple occasions. The tiniest, softest chomp though.

- never fails to tell you how much he loves you. On the daily, on the fly, every time he meets your eyes. “I love you” so easily slips from his lips, he expresses it so easily but it never loses its meaning with him. He means it every time he utters those three words. You can feel it too. Just… don’t ask him to elaborate because he’d drop anything he’s doing just to explain to you as to how and why and what and where and—uh oh is he crying?????

𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐁𝐎𝐘𝐅𝐈𝐄𝐒 𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐔𝐓.

𝐤𝐚𝐣𝐢.

- WOULD MAKE PLAYLISTS FOR YOU. Hear me out again. He’s horrible with words ok? Like he’s thorny. He’d say the meanest things accidentally sometimes without him realizing that. So, he makes playlists for you. He’s made one for himself when he first realized he had a crush on you, btw. Don’t tell him I told you. Notice how he’s had his headphones on his head whenever you first started talking to him? Yeah he was listening to it when he saw you passing by. Best music taste btw. Listens to all genres too like he doesn’t discriminate. Get him started on some hardcore bands though, he’s yapping. Eyebrows furrowed. (He likes rowdy places but doesn’t get rowdy? Canonically too? Yeah the man’s outside the pit pushing the crowdkillers away from you. CATCH HIM IN THE PIT THOUGH OH MY GOD THAT’S A CROWDKILLER RIGHT THERE.) on that note, he loves going to gigs with you. You wanna go check a local band? He’s immediately got ticket stubs for their next gig.

- another acts of service guy. You see those tiktoks of girls grabbing something under the table and the guy holding the corner of the table so she wouldn’t accidentally hit it? Or like when you got full hands and you can’t go to open the door, the guy’s materialized beside you, opening it for you? Yeah that’s him. Real subtle about it though. Don’t bring attention to it pls unless you want him to not look at you for a couple of minutes (he’s blushing pls be patient)

- the type to nag at you when you get hurt. Man oh MAN does he nag. He’s gone through one too many fights already so he knows how to patch himself up real nice. But when YOU get hurt, he’s immediately digging through his first aid kit, cleaning your wound and patching you up while nagging you to be more careful next time, what if he wasn’t around to help, what if this what if that grumble grumble. He’s got his lollipop in his mouth btw. Pull it out for a second and GIVE HIM THE BIGGEST SMOOCH TO SHUT HIM UP PLEASE. Sweetest kisses. Both literally and figuratively 🥹

𝐬𝐮𝐨.

- GENTLEMAN GENTLEMAN GENTLEMAN. Oh my god if you don’t want attention drawn to the both of you, never bring Suo out in public!!!!!!!! He does the most for you so effortlessly, so beautifully, people swoon and get jealous because of it. The type to give you flowers too. Not just on special occasions too. And not just flowers in a bouquet. No. The flowers are already arranged in a vase so you wouldn’t have to worry about grabbing a vase yourself. Goodness your normal dates would seem so extravagant when he’s around. You’d be eating at a McDonald’s and you’re looking over at your lover and he looks so dashing and he smells so good and he’s got the softest smile anfjdjjdj UGHHHHHH!!!!!! But if you’re not into flowers, he’d find some other way to express his love for you in a different way. Whatever you’re comfortable with, he’s down for.

- big tease. He likes seeing you squirm and pout when he’s playing a little prank on you. You swear you can see a slight blush on his cheeks when you pout but it’s so so subtle you think it’s the lighting.

- is not afraid to express how much he absolutely LOVES you. If you need reassurance, he’s pulling you to the side to talk about it. If you need him to kiss you more, oh he’s doing THAT AND MORE. If you’re the jealous type, even better. He’s smooching you in front of the person you think is flirting with him. But if you’re not into that intense stuff, he’s pulling you into the conversation, keeping a hand on your waist and looking over to you for an extra opinion. Lays on the “dove”, “my love”, “my sweet”, “my heart”, T H I C K . And I fucking mean THICK.

𝐤𝐢𝐫𝐲𝐮.

- *dreamy sigh* a fucking dreamboat is what he is. You could never, EVER go wrong with kiryu, man. I swear. A gentleman through and through. Takes you on spontaneous dates, likes going to arcades with you and winning you the biggest plushie!!!! (he’s really good at it), would take you on perfume dates (HE SMELLS GOOD CANONICALLY UGH), would even do your make up for you. Ugh. UGH. He’d be the best partner you could ever ask for. Y’know those perfect couples on tiktok? That’s you and him. But it’s all genuine, baby. That’s just how he loves.

- big on matching outfits. But not the blatant matching ones, no. Like, same color palettes, same textures, YES. YES. The outfit brainstorming is part of your dates too. He’d let you borrow his clothes if you want, he’d even let you spritz some of his most expensive perfumes 😭!!!!

- SKINCARE DATES TOO. WOAH WOAH WOAH. like, he has a AM/PM routine but he'd love to do it with you! he'd suggest all the best stuff for your skin, check if your skin's more on the dry side, oily side, yes. your man knows his shit and it SHOWS. your skin's practically glowing when you're with him. boyfriend air doesn't exist.

- IF YOU NEED REASSURANCE AND A HYPEMAN HE IS YOUR FUCKING GUY I CANNOT STRESS THIS ENOUGH. God he’d see you looking at yourself in the mirror, fussing over how you look and practically putting yourself down, his heart would break. Like, how could you not see how he sees you? He’s taking you in his arms and telling you everything he absolutely adores about you, how beautiful you are, showering you with praise on the sweetest most kiryu way possible. He’s peppering kisses along your tear streaked cheeks until you’re smiling again. “There’s that smile,” he says as he pulls away, cupping your face in his hands. Ugh he even has the most lovesick puppydog eyes for you. “I love you, alright? So much,” he kisses your forehead, “So, So much.” He whispers into your hairline. GOOOOODDDDDDD 🫂 and did I say HYPEMAN? I mean it. Do a little spin for him in your new clothes and he’s screaming and yelling and taking so much pictures of you!!!!! His instagram feed’s full of you, your couple photos, your dates… practically a fan account of your relationship. He loves you and he loves loving you!!!!!!!!! and if you're the jealous type, he'd be so patient with you. he'd reassure you to the moon and back!!! ofc since he's popular with girls, he'd do his best to reassure you that he only has his eyes on you and you alone.

- gaming nights with kiryu. Oh Gaming Nights With Kiryu please save me gaming nights with kiryu. He’s got a whole set up ready for the both of you, his PS5 hot and ready, snacks opened. It’s a special thing for the both of you too! He decorates his apartment in the theme of the game you’re both playing, horror game? His apartment looks like a horror house. Smash bros? BET. (He’ll be smashing you by the end of the night gehrhhrhehehehHgdhdhs). I know he’s got LED strips so he’s using that to his advantage too. Ok I’m getting carried away. Kiryu best partner best lover best everything.

𝐭𝐨𝐠𝐚𝐦𝐞.

- *RIPS SHIRT OPEN LIKE A WEREWOLF GRGEGGRHEHE BARKING!!!!!* TOGAMEEEEE!!!!!!! 🗣️🗣️🗣️ I am apologizing for this part, love. I’m gonna go hard.

- canonically doesn’t text. Only leaves you on read. Calling him though? CALLING HIM?? 🫠 he’s answering as soon as it rings. None of that “wait until the third ring” baloney. His baby’s calling. If he’s doing something before you called, HE’S DROPPING IT FOR YOU. And he answers in that deep voice of his and 🫠🫠🫠 sigh. You guys stay on the phone for hours. He’s the type to do things while he’s calling you too. If you’re away and he can’t be with you, he’d love it if you could stay on the phone with him for way longer too. Big on facetiming too. He’s fallen asleep with facetime on. You have a collection of screenshots of his pretty sleeping face. You’ve fallen asleep on facetime too. He doesn’t have as much screenshots though and he haaaates himself for it because he spends so much time just staring at you through his phone, smiling to himself like. FUCK he’s so in love with you!!!!! YOU!!!! 🗣️🗣️🗣️ plus he’s got nervous shaky hands so hehe first time you guys facetimed you weren’t a couple yet. You fell asleep and he tried taking a screenshot and dropped his phone. The sound woke you up lol you give him shit about that moment sometimes, teasing him. He’s a blushing mess, elbowing you gently so you’d stop.

- AWKWARD TOGAME WHEN YOU GUYS FIRST DATED UGH SHIIIITTTTT!!!!! 🗣️🗣️🗣️ he’s canonically bad with groups of people and people in general. Choji had to adopt him forcefully into shishitoren ok? So that translates so SO well to you and your relationship with him. He may or may not have (allegedly, for legal reasons) asked for romance advice from Choji. He may or may not have (again, allegedly) tried that yawning and stretching trick so he could rest his arm behind you. No. Nope. Didn’t hear it from me.

- awkward and SHY togame when he made the first move on you!!!!!!! He had a ramune bottle in his hand because it was shaking so bad he couldn’t control it. You GAVE HIM HIS FIRST KISS DHHRHDHRRRRAAAAGHHH 🗣️🗣️🐺 you had to hold his other hand to stop it from trembling. Yours were too tbh hehe made him feel a bit better because you were just as nervous as he is.

- once you both are super into the relationship though, my goodness expect togame to be THE BEST PARTNER. See how he was with Choji? Did anything and everything to keep his smile? He’d do that for you too. Amp it up to a 100. His surprises are simple, never was one for grand gestures. But goodness you can feel the effort. Even employed some help from his old man pals at the community baths 🫠

- speaking of the old men, THEY WERE THE FIRST PEOPLE TO KNOW ABOUT HIS CRUSH ON YOU!!!!! Like, they were doting on togame when he expressed he’s never felt this way for someone before, how he can feel his heart racing and his face heating up when you’re around. They knew he was in love with you before he knew for himself.

- OF COURSE THEY KNEW YOUUU. So when you wanted to get into a relationship with togame, knowing it’s serious now, you went out of your way to meet up with the group of old men!!!! There, you discovered that togame has been talking about you nonstop. They already loved you for him before you formally met!!!!! They gave you their collective blessing, of course. You both are their grandchildren in their eyes.

- togame CAN COOK. EXPECT HIM TO COOK FOR YOU CONSTANTLY. And if you can cook, EVEN BETTER. Cooking dates, farmer’s market dates, izakaya dates, GASTRONOMY! You often surprise each other with decorated lunch boxes.

- nap dates all the time. Like, when you’re not bumping uglies or cooking or bonding with your friends, you both are asleep in each other’s arms. He gives the best hugs too. Like, those hugs that just cover you, you know?

- obviously, he loves you. But god damn it he wants to scream it into the world!!!! With the way he treats you though, constantly worrying about you, being there at your beck and call, pressing kisses into the crown of your head whenever you’re next to each other, he doesn’t need to scream it or utter a single word. You can just see the love he has for you. Everyone knows it.

- has thought about marrying you a couple times already. The type to call you his spouse teasingly too just to see you blush. He cannot wait to call you that officially. If he were good at technology, he would definitely have a pinterest board ready lol

a/n: wehehehehajsdkj hehehe togame. i missed writing for him, guys. THANK YOU FOR READING THROUGH TO THE END. some of the togame headcanons were from my convo with @yisxn!!! the ramune bottle detail was so perfect I couldn't skip it! also the asking for advice from the old men. YOU HAVE A BEAUTIFUL MIND ILYSM. thank you to @brainrot-of-a-thot for helping me clear up my brainfog last nightttt. also to you, reader, ILY. thank you for reading my word vomit!!!!!!!!!

[ugh-yoongi]

hi. i would like to request seungcheol (obviously). all i request is enemies-to-lovers. you may do with this what you wish. i leave it up to you to decide exactly how you will ruin my life 😌

tysm for the request my beloved !! he is so enemies to lovers coded i had TEWWW many thoughts (and started three separate wips oops), but here we are. i hope u enjoy this !! can't wait to get the collab fics out of the way so i can torture u further with baseball dk. i picked dodgers hat!cheol just for u. ♡

— we need to talk

pairing: choi seungcheol x f. reader summary: sometimes the only way to win the game is to not play, but sometimes it's not a game at all—sometimes it's four years of emotional build-up with nowhere left to hide. genre: enemies (kinda) w benefits to lovers; frat/university au; smut, angst?, fluff rating: explicit. minors do not interact with this or any of my work. warnings: frat boys. gendered language and insults. swearing. mentions of drugs & drug use (vernon is literally a drug dealer 🤷🏻‍♀️) as well as alcohol. possessive, jealous seungcheol who is extremely down bad and kind of an asshole and would be toxic af irl but is fine in fanfiction probably. this is maybe more "people who used to fuck and started disliking each other along the way bc they can't figure out their feelings" to lovers than enemies. there are very slight, very meaningless mingyu x reader undertones here. jeonghan is a bastard. feelings you think are unrequited but alas! this got softer than i intended oops. smut warnings: seungcheol truly is a man driven to the brink of madness bc of pussy idk what to say. kissing. hair pulling. mentions of masturbation. the dynamics shift in this one a lot, but to be overly cautious i will say dom!cheol and slightly dom!reader undertones that are not implicitly stated or defined. seungcheol uses the term "whore" once, sorry. oral sex (f. receiving). pussy slapping. unprotected sex. if i missed any pls lmk. wordcount: 8k. no i do not know what a drabble is, leave me alone. author's note: title from the song of the same name by waterparks but this was actually brought to you by "i'll never stop" by nsync bc it's their best song and fit the vibes perfectly. anyway, i still do not love writing smut but i am insane over this man so whatever, we persevere. everyone go shower mj in lots of love bc she's the best and deserves it. also everyone say thank u @the-boy-meets-evil for looking over this for me. i did not look at this again after she beta'd it so any mistakes are of my own stupidity. <3

Seungcheol is incensed.

What in the fuck are you thinking, showing up here? Ignoring him, walking by him with nothing more than a brush to the elbow and that sultry, electric gaze? A pair of painted-on jeans and a sheer top?

Who the fuck had invited you?

He looks around the room, gaze heavy under his furrowed brow. Bass thumps in his ears, the music so loud he can feel it in his chest. Still, his feet stay planted on the floor, already sticky with spilled alcohol and god knows what else. He needs to find Vernon—just needs something to get through this very unexpected (and very unpleasant) surprise, take the edge off.

But he can’t see through the sea of people. They’re everywhere, occupying every inch of available space in the house, but he just needs a glimpse of that mop of cornflower blue hair. If he could just—

Instead, he sees a streak of white-blond in his peripheral vision. “Soonyoung!” he calls, grabbing the man by the arm. “Hey, have you seen Vernon?”

Soonyoung stares up at him with glassy, bloodshot eyes, his breath already stinking of alcohol as he shrugs and says, “Dunno, hyung. Think he’s upstairs.”

Fingers still wrapped around his bicep, Seungcheol heaves a sigh. “Go find Jeonghan. He’s on babysitting duty and you’re already fucked.”

“I’m fine,” Soonyoung argues, slurred words giving him away immediately.

Seungcheol scoffs. “Bro, you can barely stand and you reek of shitty vodka. Go drink some water.”

As he sends Soonyoung away, he can feel eyes boring into him, tension wound tight in the center of his back that refuses to dissipate no matter how many times he rolls his shoulders. He turns slowly, already knowing exactly what he’ll find, but knowing does little to stop the hitch of breath as he takes you in.

And he hates it. Fuck, he hates the effect you have on him more than anything.

Hates that he’s still pining after you. Hates that all you have to do is look at him and he’s putty in your hands. Hates that you’re the first person he looks for in a room, the last person on his mind before he falls asleep. Hates you, hates that all of this is unreciprocated, because if Choi Seungcheol is anything, it’s proud. He’s rich, he’s good-looking, he’s pre-law, and the president of this fraternity, for fuck’s sake—he should not be hung up on a girl.

But he’d been doomed from the beginning. Ever since you’d been assigned to him as a challenge to overcome, an impossible task to conquer, he’d been helplessly, pathetically smitten with you.

And fuck if you didn’t know it, too.

So, it’s a game now. A lifetime’s worth of pining for Seungcheol all because his frat was misogynistic and refused to keep up with the times. They’d nodded in your direction and laughed at the confusion on his face, the knot between his brows. Seungcheol couldn’t figure out why his initiation was to fuck a girl, one his brothers wouldn’t even address by name, but when he’d approached you at a party and you’d immediately told him to go fuck himself, he’d figured it out pretty quick.

Call it determination, call it a stubborn streak that refused to quit, but the two of you soon came to a reluctant agreement: you would let Seungcheol lie to his frat, figuring he was attractive enough that people thinking you’d slept together wouldn’t be complete social suicide, and he’d owe you a favor you’d keep in your back pocket for as long as it took to cash in.

Which hadn’t taken long. The stress of finals that first year had gotten to all of you, and it wasn’t long before you were at his door looking for his drug-dealing roommate and a quick fuck.

That was the second time Seungcheol had been doomed to hopeless pining, because once he had you, he knew it’d be impossible to let you go.

Short of outright saying the words, he’d all but told you as much during some alcohol-induced brain shortage junior year. And, in turn, you’d all but laughed in his face.

Right.

Of course.

That was to be expected.

So, you’d continued your… well, whatever this is: quick fucks when both of you were bored or lonely or horny, usually under the influence of something illegal; a mutually tense but beneficial relationship for each of you, because you had been Seungcheol’s initiation and the initiation itself awarded him connections and opportunities. You got a back-up plan. A safe body and warm bed to retreat to when the need arose—one who clearly wanted it to be something more, but was, all things considered, fine with the current arrangement. Didn’t pressure you.

But, as was also to be expected, it was never going to be that simple when feelings got involved. When he started feeling slighted. When he wanted you so bad he ached with it sometimes and it was beneath you to care. Which is why he really, really needs to find Vernon. If he’s going to endure an entire party with you, he’s not going to do it sober.

He takes the steps two at a time, feet stumbling onto the landing as soon as he reaches it. Vernon’s door is the third on the left, and he can hear a separate, distinct bass line from the one booming downstairs that hums louder the closer he gets.

And Vernon knows. Of course he does, because he’s yanking his door open before Seungcheol has even raised a hand to knock, the stench of weed seeping out into the hallway, and all he needs is a quick look at Seungcheol before he pulls the door open wider and says, “Ladies and gentlemen, the President of the United States of America,” as if he’s speaking into a microphone. When Seungcheol doesn’t react, he awkwardly tacks on, “Hi, hyung. I’m assuming she’s here.”

Seungcheol nods, dumbly, and stands as awkwardly in the center of the room as someone who’s about to ask their roommate for drugs tends to be. “Yeah.” Shoves his hands in the pockets of his overpriced jeans so Vernon can’t see the sheen of sweat.

“You looking for somethin’ specific?” he asks, rifling through the top drawer of a tall dresser. “Like, is this an I’m about to fuck her the rest of the night visit or an I need something to help me forget she doesn’t actually like me visit?”

The words come like a reflex. “Fuck you,” he seethes. Vernon’s not wrong, per se, but he didn’t have to go and just… say it like that.

Vernon just shrugs, one side of his worn-out collar slipping down his shoulder as he does so, and Seungcheol can’t tell if he’s actually dressed for the party or not. “Gonna guess it’s the second one, then.”

Seungcheol scoffs. “Well, it’s not,” he insists, knowing damn well he should let it go, that he’s just digging himself a bigger hole, but the truth sits in the pit of his stomach like lead.

And, really, he knows he just needs to accept it. That little strand of hope hasn’t brought him anything but more pain—allowed him to delude himself into thinking it could be something more, something tangible—and it’s time to let it go.

You don’t want more.

You don’t want the label and the relationship.

You don’t want him.

He knows this, but it still tastes sour in his mouth. Still tastes like the chill of autumn when you’d first showed up at his door all that time ago. Tastes like all the blunts you’ve shared and the liquor from all the parties you’d snuck away in the middle of. Tastes like the sharp notes of your perfume, the ones that’d coat his tongue when he’d kiss down your neck—the same notes that stain his bedsheets.

Mostly, it’s the pitying look Vernon’s giving him that hurts the most. He’s above pity. Doesn’t need it, especially not from Vernon Chwe, but it hurts all the same to be on the receiving end of it.

“Give me whatever you’ve got.”

Vernon’s face quickly morphs into surprised concern. “Uh, I’m not sure that’s a good idea. I mean, I’ve got some pretty heavy shit here.”

Heat flares in his belly. The pity was bad enough—now he wants to be patronizing? “Then give me whatever the fuck you think I need,” he snaps. “I don’t care. I don’t have time for this shit.”

“Well, you definitely need to chill,” Vernon mumbles. “You want some dabs?”

“No. Something…” The word feels thick in his mouth. Stronger implies that Seungcheol does heavy drugs, and that’s not true. “Else,” he finally finishes.

Vernon sighs as he continues rifling through the drawer. “Your dad would fucking kill me if I gave you my real heavy shit, so…” He pauses, eyebrows raising in triumph as he finds what he was looking for: a small baggie filled halfway with some nondescript powder. “You want a bump?”

Maybe he should be ashamed at how quickly he agrees, at the urgency and greed with which he grabs the baggie from Vernon’s fingers, but he just needs something. Needs the distraction, the brain fog. He shoves it in his back pocket next to his wallet. “How much do I owe you?”

Vernon wrinkles his nose. “Nah. Consider that one a freebie. No offense, but you’re a real piece of shit when you’re like this.”

The implication only pisses him off more. Seungcheol is loaded—he can afford to pay his drug dealer, thank you very much—but he’s not like anything. “I’m sorry?”

True to his nature, Vernon barely shrugs. “I’ll put it on your tab, hyung,” he says in a way that implies he’s not at all going to do that and is only saying so to get the fraternity president off his back.

Jeonghan (23:12) Better come get your girl. Kim Mingyu’s dick looks like it’s halfway up her ass by now. Jeonghan (23:12) Uh oh! I think I just saw a testicle

Seungcheol stares down at his phone, hands trembling in anger. Of course it’s Mingyu. That pathetic loser has been taking up residence on the subs bench ever since you’d made out with him months ago in an admittedly successful attempt at payback. Seungcheol had hooked up with some downgrade at a party one time and you’d gone and made out with his friend. It was hardly a fair trade.

Seungcheol (23:14) Good for Mingyu, he can deal with her then Seungcheol (23:14) I’m busy Jeonghan (23:14) Doing what? Jerking off in the upstairs bathroom again? Jeonghan (23:15) Do you know what size condom he wears btw? Looks like I might need to fetch him one if you don’t want to take care of another man’s baby Jeonghan (23:16) Although, to be fair, you might want to sit this one out. He has way better bone structure than you. Might be a blessing in disguise Seungcheol (23:16) Fuck you Jeonghan (23:16) Better be nice to me, Choi Seungcheolie~ that might be the only fuck you get tonight

Seungcheol needs better friends. He needs a lot of things, really, but number one on his to-do list is to never let Jeonghan be on babysitting duty ever again. Somehow he’d forgotten how obnoxious Yoon Jeonghan is when he isn’t stoned and half-asleep on a couch somewhere.

For now, he just stomps down the hallway; locks himself in his room and doesn’t bother to turn on the light. He’s not going to be here long. Just enough time to do this line, change his t-shirt, and come up with a game plan, because he’s not going to let Mingyu even entertain the thought of being able to have you but he also can’t appear desperate. Not just to you, but to everyone else. Choi Seungcheol is not clingy, especially not over a girl.

Especially especially over a girl who doesn’t even want him like that.

But the longer he sits in the dark, the more trouble he has finding his resolve. Can’t bring himself to dig that baggie out of his pocket. Can’t drag his t-shirt over his head. Can’t bring himself to think about anything other than Mingyu’s hands all over you, and fuck, does that image drive him insane.

Does he touch you like Seungcheol does?

Does he coax those same jagged whimpers from your mouth like Seungcheol does?

Does his semi-hard cock feel as good pressed against you?

God, he’s so fucked. Utterly and completely fucked. And he wonders if this would be as bad if he’d just kept his mouth shut, took that secret to his grave instead of fooling himself into thinking it could be more. If it wouldn’t have devolved into… this. You’d always told him not to get attached, that sex was just sex and there was no need to ruin a good thing. But Seungcheol is a selfish man, always has been, and what if? is a dangerous question.

Jeonghan (23:36) Wow, you’re a fucking pussy. Stop hiding in your room like a little bitch. Seungcheol (23:36) Fuck off

He can’t go down there. Not because he’s a coward, but because he’s barely tethered to his sanity as it is. Something about you brings him out of his mind, makes him toss whatever good judgment he has left to the wind. Seungcheol is far too impulsive when it comes to you, reckless in ways that have all twenty years of his social training weeping in a corner; have alarm bells ringing in his brain. So, no, he can’t go downstairs right now because he knows he’ll do something stupid. Stick not only his foot but his entire lower body in it. He should’ve listened, yet here he is, dick pulled halfway out of his jeans because the thought of you alone gets him hard but his pride won’t let him jerk off to the image of anyone touching you that’s not him.

Forget whatever Jeonghan had called him. He’s a fucking fool. A moonstruck, delusional fool who’d tricked himself into thinking he could swim when he can barely tread water.

You (23:41) Something wrong?

Oh, here we fucking go, he thinks. Because this is Seungcheol’s game—one he’d perfected years ago, the one where he’s coy and chilly, never too eager, never committed. Just a little bit of a tease. Barely enough to keep them on the hook, a little needy; still enough to keep them coming back. But you’d taken one look at him all those years ago and had him pegged immediately. Figured out his game and learned the rules, used them against him. Now you watch him flounder with a smile on your face.

Seungcheol (23:42) Never knew you were so needy baby. First you show up uninvited and now youre missing me?

But just because there’s now a player two doesn’t mean he’s doomed to lose. He knows how you look when you’re on your knees for him. Knows how you sound when you’re begging to cum and stuttering out his name like you’re singing hymns. Knows how you look with your eyes rolled back after he’s fucked you dumb. Kim Mingyu doesn’t know shit.

Seungcheol knows he’s the only one fortunate enough to experience you like this.

And god does it kill him.

You (23:44) Don’t act stupid

A pleased exhale of laughter, an equally-smug smirk. Yeah, this is still Seungcheol’s game, the crown still sitting atop his head. You can let Mingyu grind his dick against you all you want, but Seungcheol is still the one you’re seeking out, pouting at the fact he hasn’t come to find you yet.

You (23:44) Mingyu invited me

Oh, you’re good—know just which buttons to press and how much pressure to use. Whatever smug expression Seungcheol had been wearing slides off his face immediately, tongue pressing into his cheek.

Seungcheol (23:46) And yet youre looking for me? You (23:47) Don’t have to look for you to know you’re upstairs sulking in your room because Jeonghan tattled on me like a fucking five year old Seungcheol (23:49) Maybe you should come up here then Seungcheol (23:49) Away from prying eyes

You don’t reply immediately. It’s just long enough for Seungcheol’s brain to conjure up something indecent—the way you’ll straddle him, the way his cock will feel pressed against the apex of your thighs; the goosebumps that’ll raise on his arms when you work your tongue along his neck, that spot near his collarbone you know he likes. His cock throbs against the confines of his jeans when he thinks about the devastated look on Mingyu’s face when you make up some excuse to get away from him, to traipse up the stairs and fall into Seungcheol’s bed, when he realizes he’s not going to have you.

You (23:56) It’d be pretty rude to leave my date, don’t you think? You (23:57) If you want me so bad, come down here and get me yourself

Seungcheol doesn’t play games; doesn’t compete because he has no competition. He’s always been given whatever he wants on a silver platter, no questions asked, so he’s wholly unprepared for this turn of events. What he knows he should do (respond to your text and tell you to fuck off, that you know where he is should you stop being a brat and change your mind) is not what he does (tucks his dick back in his jeans, finally throws on a clean t-shirt, and takes his time descending the stairs so he doesn’t look too eager), because logical thought gets tossed out the window entirely wherever you’re concerned.

“Ah, if it isn’t our resident pissbaby making his grand re-entrance.”

Seungcheol clenches his jaw for the nth time and glares. “Fuck off, Jeonghan.”

The man in question laughs—the annoying raspy one that grates on Seungcheol’s nerves—and hands over a cup of something brown and pungent. “Well, judging from your attitude, and the fact you’re barely hiding that boner you’ve got, you clearly didn’t spend your time away jerking off. What finally got you down here, the promise of cheap whiskey I nicked off some freshman or the fact that your girlfriend’s about two seconds from getting a public indecency charge courtesy of Kim Mingyu?”

Well. Jeonghan may be an asshole but he’s not wrong. Even through the crowd of people and the haze of whatever’s in his cup and a contact high, Seungcheol spots you immediately. Your back is pressed against Mingyu’s chest, his fingers gripping tight at your waist as you roll your hips in time with his. Whatever manufactured filth he’s whispering to you draws a smile, causes you to reach up and tug sharply at his hair. Fuck, Seungcheol can almost hear Mingyu’s moan from across the room, and his blood quickly heats to a rapid boil.

Another chuckle from the demon beside him. “Stop fucking laughing,” Seungcheol snaps, still unable to take his eyes off of you. “Fuck this. I’m going back upstairs. Make sure everyone’s out of here by three. I’m not paying for another noise citation.”

Jeonghan rolls his eyes. “I’m absolutely not going to do that.” He shoves a bottle of something in Seungcheol’s hand. “Take this and think of me when you’re crying yourself to sleep because Mingyu stole guaranteed pussy right out of your hands.”

“Why do you do this?” Seungcheol asks, shoving at Jeonghan’s shoulder roughly. “You never know when to fucking quit.”

Another streak of white-blond. “Hey, no fighting!” Soonyoung slurs, trying his best to push Seungcheol to the other side of the kitchen with his useless, limp arms.

This attracts the attention of Joshua, who struts into the room looking straight out of Fashion Week, much like he always does. He hasn’t even broken a sweat. “Aw, are Mom and Dad fighting again?” he asks, his lips tugged into a smirk. He ignores Seungcheol’s scowl as he fixes himself a drink. “You know Mingyu only does it to get a reaction out of you,” Joshua adds, quieter this time, as if he’s telling Seungcheol a secret only meant for the two of them to share.

“What’s her excuse, then?” Seungcheol fires back, because even if he doesn’t like it, Joshua’s right. This is exactly the kind of behavior he’d expect from resident campus whore Kim Mingyu, but he never expected you to go along with it.

Joshua cocks an eyebrow. “She doesn’t need an excuse, Cheol. She’s not your girl.”

Even though it’s a truth he already knows, it somehow hurts worse being spoken in plaintext, a hushed conversation in a crowded kitchen. Being let down gently. Seungcheol knows he needs to make a decision. He needs to let you go and start moving on with his life; can’t be having these quasi-meltdowns during frat parties anymore. Can’t be possessive and spiteful. You don’t want him. Everyone knows you don’t want him, so that’s all there is to it. Maybe you’ll want Mingyu and he can finally wash his hands of this forever, scrape the jealousy off his tongue.

He steels himself. Rolls his shoulders back, cracks his neck. Navigates the crowd in the living room until he reaches you and your so-called date. Grabs you by the elbow—gentle enough that it doesn’t hurt but firm enough to send a message—and says the two of you need to talk. Upstairs. Now. Mingyu just smiles like he knew this was coming and presses a pointless, wasted kiss just below your ear. Seungcheol tells him to fuck off, too, and Mingyu grins wider, tongue darting out to wet his lips.

As he guides you to his room, he doesn’t think about the way your hand fits in his. Doesn’t think about how this is going to be the last time he has you. Doesn’t think about who’ll have you after. Doesn’t bother to wonder if you’ve finally changed your mind like he had all those other times he’d walked this same familiar path with you in tow. Because it’s the last time. Whatever happens once it’s over is out of his control.

Perhaps that’s what it’d always been about. Seungcheol has always been spoiled and selfish and so terribly, terribly desperate to prove he’s more than his family name and family money. So, yeah, he’d wanted the control; wanted what was never his for the taking. You’d always been the opposite—his perfect little counterpart. Always so pliant and careless and free: everything Seungcheol tried so hard to be but couldn’t, and that’s where the switch flipped.

Someone like you isn’t meant to be controlled.

What he used to want so badly now tastes rancid in his mouth.

The door locks behind you. Seungcheol doesn’t meet your eye as he says, “You got what you wanted. Are you done being a fucking brat?” It’s not a tone he usually takes. Usually he’s dirty, a little possessive, willing to let you set the pace. He doesn’t miss the way your breath hitches. “I asked you a question.”

“Seungcheol—”

He clicks his tongue, stalks closer until you’re nearly in his grasp. Your eyes close instinctively as if you’re expecting his mouth on yours. Instead, he threads his long fingers in your hair and pulls. “What’s so hard about answering a simple yes or no question? Did you really want Mingyu’s dick so bad you’ve gone dumb all of a sudden?”

You gasp. “No.”

“No what?” Seungcheol chides. “No, you’re not done being a brat? Or no, you weren’t just downstairs acting desperate and pathetic for mediocre cock?” He runs his thumb across the seam of your lips, follows their movements as you speak.

“I wasn’t—”

A low, mocking chuckle. “You were, baby.” Sounds condescending; speaks to you like you’re a stupid child. He’s so close to you now. Can smell the tang of your skin, the sticky notes of your perfume. Feels your breath fan against his own sweat-slick skin. Still avoids your gaze, because as domineering as he appears, he knows he can unravel just as quickly. “Take your clothes off. This is the last time I’m gonna fuck you and I’m not going to ask twice.”

Now you truly look caught off-guard. “What?” Still he ignores you, expensive silver rings clinking into a dish on his dresser one by one, expensive watch following. “What do you mean the last time?”

Deft fingers play at the buttons on his shirt. Not silk, but just as expensive. “Shit. You’re really testing my patience, you know.” You’re still standing at the edge of his bed, staring dumbly as if he’s just going to start spilling all his secrets, give you some kind of explanation. “I believe I told you to strip.”

Unlike Seungcheol, your fingers tremble as they work at buttons and zippers and hemlines, push down denim and remove heels. It’s clear you’re trying to work out what he’s playing at—if this is some punishment for fucking around with Mingyu or if he really means it—but you’re not going to risk asking. Things between the two of you are already tense as it is. Seungcheol has never been wound this tight, never been so ready to snap.

“That’s it,” he praises once you’re left in nothing but a skimpy underwear set you know he likes. “Look at you. Fucking gorgeous. I bet that’s why you think you can get away with embarrassing me, huh?” He grabs your chin, forces you to meet his gaze for the first time since he’d dragged you up here. “Get on your knees. I’m getting tired of repeating myself.”

It’s not an unfamiliar sight—as it is, you usually leave Seungcheol’s room with bruised knees on a good night—but it settles differently in his gut this time. Because he’d dared a glance at you once and knows he can’t do it again, so he watches the top of your head as you fumble with his belt buckle and looks away whenever he thinks you might risk a glance upwards. Finds some point on the wall to focus on. Hisses through his teeth when you pull his cock from his briefs, your hands cold against his flushed skin.

All he wants to do is kiss you. Draw this out. Give you a memorable last time, maybe mark you up a little. He really wants to savor the feeling of your tongue on his cock, but all he can focus on is the fact that he’ll never be enveloped in that wet heat again. He’s never going to feel your mouth working him over, feel you humming around his length because he knows you love the weight of it, you love wrenching away that little bit of control, turning him into a mess.

But he’s not going to dwell. He’s going to thumb at the hinge of your jaw, force it open just wide enough for his cock to fit inside. Then he’s going to fist your hair into a makeshift ponytail, grip it tight, use it to guide your mouth until there’s only an inch of space between you. He’s going to stare down at you, silently revel in how fucked out you look already even though he hasn’t touched you. He’s going to watch the way your fingers dig into your thighs because they can’t touch him. Then he’s going to say—

“Beg me. Beg me to let you suck my cock.”

There’s a flicker of hesitation. Seungcheol doesn’t talk to you like this. This is not the kind of dynamic the two of you have, and Seungcheol finds himself wondering if things would be different if it was. If he’d never started going so easy on you. Would you want him then? Or would you have left a long time ago?

He’s half-expecting you to do that now. You look ready to bolt, to pull your clothes back on and tell him to go fuck himself on the way out. Probably go straight back to Mingyu, let him fuck you hard but routine, the way Seungcheol usually does, the way he knows you like. He expects you to leave, and this is the last time, anyway, so he figures he has nothing left to lose.

“I’m going soft,” he snaps, the admonishment harsh on his tongue. When you look up at him, his jaw is clenched, eyes narrow. “You have one fucking job and you can’t even do that properly? Who’s going to want a dumb little whore that can’t follow simple instructions?”

He watches your eyes squeeze shut involuntarily. Wonders if he’s gone too far before deciding he doesn’t care if he has. It’s the last time, anyway, so it’s not like it matters. Watches the indents in your thighs grow deeper. Watches you inhale and try to steady your breathing.

Watches your eyes snap open, any trace of hesitation long gone. “Did you make that other girl beg for you?”

Seungcheol snorts, amusement showing all over his face. “Is that what this is about? You’re still mad I hooked up with some other girl so you act like this?” He clicks his tongue at you, fists his cock, slicking it up. “Are you jealous?”

“No,” you answer simply, “I’m just trying to figure out why you think you can speak to me however the fuck you want.”

Seungcheol’s hand stutters along his length before it stills, your words sharp and immediate against his skin. He should’ve known. Shouldn’t have thought something like this would work on you, that you’d like it, and he’s halfway to soft and throwing his hands up and tucking his dick back into his briefs when you say, “Answer the question.”

“What?”

You tsk. Move your hands from your thighs to his, nails pressing just deep enough to leave crescent moons behind that match your own. Something for someone else to see. “Did you make her beg for you?”

Seungcheol’s brain power decreases the higher your palms go, when your thumbs press into the dimples of his hips. Can barely choke out a hissed yes, yeah, fu-fuck when your hand covers his, fingers wrapping tightly around his own as you guide it back and forth, up and down the length of his cock. “What did you make her beg for, Cheol?”

“To—to to-touch me.”

You hum. Tighten your grip on Seungcheol’s hand and laugh as his hips roll involuntarily, seeking the friction. “Touch you how? Like this?”

“Yeah—fuck, yes, like this.”

“Did she? Did she listen to you like a good girl?” Your hand leaves Seungcheol’s only to collect the precum at his tip. “Don’t get all shy now, Cheolie.” You suck your thumb into your mouth and he whines. “Was she a good girl for you?”

You sit back on your haunches. Watch him jerk himself off. “Yeah,” he finally says, word cracking in the middle. “Boring, though. Not like—not like you.”

“No one is like me,” you admonish. “I could’ve told you that for free, before you went off and fucked someone else.”

“Not an idiot,” Seungcheol replies, the pace of his hand quickening. He’s playing a dangerous game; approaching the cliff edge at a dangerous pace. “No-nothing comes for free with you.”

All you do is smile, lopsided and smug. “Mm, that’s true. Guess your little dom moment earlier can just be chalked up to momentary stupidity, hm?” Seungcheol wants to nod, wants apologies to tumble from his lips until you shut him up, but his palm is so slick against his dick, fist tight enough to white out his vision. “Did you make her beg to suck your cock?”

Truth be told, Seungcheol can’t remember much of anything right now. He’s perilously close to coming, right at that precipice, and each filthy word that slips from your mouth just pushes him further to the edge. He remembers Chan inviting him to a party. He remembers a few drinks, a few hits from a blunt, compliments of Vernon; he remembers a girl making eyes at him from across the room—eyes that had looked a lot like yours in the haze of his crossfade. He remembers a locked bathroom and the sound of his voice as he told that girl how to touch him so it felt like you. He remembers her doing whatever he told her to, remembers how eager and submissive she was, how she didn’t mouth off to him the way you always do—

Remembers how unsatisfying it’d been when he came.

You’ve ruined him.

Not a revelation. Not even close to one. Seungcheol has known this for a long time, but that doesn’t mean annoyance doesn’t flare in his belly at the reminder. You don’t want him. Being so hung up on you isn’t doing him any favors, just means he’ll have a longer drop when this is all over. God, what the fuck is he doing?

He wants you so badly he’s aflame with it. He wants you so badly he can barely look at you anymore. He wants you so badly it consumes him, drives him insane, has him all fucked up and seething. He wants you, he wants you, he—

Loves.

Reality washes over him like a cold wave. Knocks him backwards, drowning, desperately trying to remember how to breathe. In, out; in, out—and none of it changes a goddamn thing.

Four years of this. Four years of touches exchanged in the dark, behind locked doors. Four years of yearning and trying and failing. Four years of everything getting lost in translation, because it’s hitting him now, but shouldn’t he have felt it before? Shouldn’t all those ‘drive me fuckin’ crazy, can’t fucking stand you’s he spoke into the crook of your neck rang hollow?

“Cheol—” you say, because you asked him something, tried to play along with this whole stupid charade, and he knows he’s frozen, just standing there, hand still wrapped around his cock, and he needs to say something, he needs to fix this—

“I’m a liar,” is what he comes up with. You’re still staring up at him, brows furrowed, pinched in the middle. Move, he wills himself, but nothing happens. “I’m a liar,” he says again, because if he says it enough you’ll believe it. “I’m sorry. I’m—”

“What are you talking about?”

He swallows. I’m in love with you, he wants to say. Feels the weight of the words on his tongue, heavy and pressing, and he thinks you should know. Even if you don’t feel the same, he thinks you deserve to know, but the way you’re looking at him—

He can’t bring himself to say it.

But he can—“Can I show you instead?”

Slowly, you nod. Seungcheol nods, too, still feeling off-kilter as he cradles your face in his hands, thumbs in the contours of your cheeks. Moves them down your neck, your shoulders, down the length of your arms. You meet him halfway, twining your fingers together, and he helps you stand, careful and considerate. At full height, he places a hand in the small of your back to tug you closer, kisses you like it’s the end of the world. Whines into your mouth at your familiar taste, and if he lets himself be delusional enough, he can pretend there’s form and substance to those sounds, that their edges are squared-off to form the words he wants to say.

Because it really might be the end of the world. Seungcheol has never known how to play the cards he’s been dealt when it comes to you. Always gets it wrong. Feints one way when he’s meant to go the other, takes the field with two left feet, always playing catch-up. Maybe the mistake was treating it like a game. Maybe the mistake was strategizing, only playing to win, because he lays you gently on his bed, fits his body in the space you create for him between your legs, and realizes he already won a long time ago.

He won the first time your eyes met. He won the first time he’d kissed you, more nerves and teeth than anything else. He won the first time you tucked yourself against his side and stared at his bedroom ceiling, half-smoked joint between your fingers, and made fun of the stupid flag he’d hung up. He won every time you took all the bullshit he threw at you and dished it right back. He won every time he had the privilege of tracing mindless shapes into your soft skin.

Every second of your time you chose to give him—all victories.

He presses in further. Groans when your hands move to his shoulders and grip tight; when your nails dig into the skin of his back. “I’ve been so stupid,” he says, punctuating his words with a nip at your ear. Smirks out of the corner of his mouth at your shuddering breath. “Haven’t I?”

“Yeah,” you answer, rolling your hips upward. He grabs at you desperately, tries to keep you still; hisses when you swat his hands away and redouble your efforts. “You’ve been a fucking asshole for a—for a while.”

You can’t see the way he pouts. Wonders, too, if that would work on you, if it’d earn him one of those rare moments of tenderness. “Well I’m trying to—shit, baby—trying to make it up to you, but you seem pretty determined to make me bust right now.”

He can see the way you roll your eyes. See the way the corners crinkle after as you laugh softly, breathlessly, still trying to chase a high Seungcheol refuses to provide. “You deserve it. You tried to dom me, you dickhead.”

Embarrassment sits obvious on his ruddy cheeks. He hides his face in the crook of your neck so you don’t see it, don’t have something to poke at him with later, but you’re having none of it. You thread your fingers through his hair and tug gently, forceful enough to have him pliable, and there it is: there are stars in your eyes as you stare up at him, tender and soft just like he hoped you’d look, and he misses the feeling of your nails on your scalp until you’re tugging at the delicate chain around his neck and pulling him closer. “Just kiss me and we’ll call it even.”

This is how it feels to get struck by lightning, he thinks. Every part of him is on fire, and he’s content to burn as his lips find yours. He sighs happily into your mouth, hikes your thigh higher around his middle, presses in to lay claim to what little space is left between you. Seungcheol is so close he can feel the rapid pace of your heartbeat, because this is not the way you usually kiss. What used to be dirty and quick, a means to an end, now has intent, purpose. He’s kissing you like he wants to steal the air from your lungs to replace it with something better.

Trails those same kisses down the length of your body. Open-mouthed at your neck, your collarbones, the space between your breasts. Teasing and slow in the space between each rib, just to watch the way your skin pebbles. Hungry and insistent at the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, because if he’s feeling this unhinged, he wants you right there with him. Can’t bear the thought of still being in this alone. Not anymore.

“Legs over my shoulders.” You listen immediately, and Seungcheol mutters a quiet fuck at the sight before him. “God, you’re so wet.”

“No shit—”

He swats at your clit, delighting in the way your body jolts. “Hush. The only thing I wanna hear out of your smart mouth from now on is my fucking name.” And then he’s diving in.

He eats you out like a man starved; like he could do this every day for the rest of his life and he still wouldn’t be satisfied. Can’t help but rut against the mattress at the way you taste, the way your thighs tighten around his head, the sting as you pull at his hair. Places both hands beneath your ass to lift and drag you closer to his waiting mouth—licks at you wet and feverish, all of this seemingly more for him than it is for you, and you’ll get tired of it soon, just like you always do. You’ll tell him—

“Do it right, Cheol, please—”

And he’ll pull away and tsk, swat at you again. His responding laugh will be cocky and derisive when your body trembles again, frantic with the need for more. “What did I say, baby? Do you not trust me to make you come?” You cock an eyebrow, torn between throwing some sarcastic remark at him and following the rules long enough to get what you want. His voice grows serious as he presses a soft kiss to your core. “I will always take care of you.”

The rest is muscle memory.

The rest has a chorus of Cheol, Cheol, Seungcheol spilling from your lips as he suctions his own around your clit. The rest has you grinding your pussy against his face. The rest has him groaning at the way he’s so wholly consumed by you: the taste of you on his tongue, face soaked, two fingers pressed deep into your cunt. The rest has him saying that’s it, baby, come on my face, I know you can and feeling delirious when he finally pushes you over the edge; when your walls clench around his fingers, breathing fractured, when you grab at him until you’re eye-level and you’re licking into his mouth to taste yourself.

Tastes a lot like I love you.

“Want you to ride me,” he says, gaze half-lidded and pleading. You whine as he moves his thumb back to your clit, tracing slow, slow, slow circles, oversensitive. “Will you do that for me?”

The party seems so far away. Grows even further away when you nod and straddle his lap. Seungcheol sits up, tells you to wrap your legs around him. Can’t stand not touching you; needs every inch of his skin to be covered by you like a bruise—something deep that’ll last for days, weeks, months. The mottled colors will change, but it’ll still be there.

“Need you, Cheol,” you whisper, kissing his eyelids. He hadn’t realized he’d closed his eyes.

“You have me,” he answers, but it sounds foreign to his ears—sounds wretched, like the words have been punched out of him. It sounds like forfeit. “Always have.”

You pull back. Study his face. Run over his plush bottom lip with your thumb. It feels like an eternity of silence before you speak. “No, I haven’t,” you insist, tone insistent but delicate, like you’re trying to convince him of it, too. “Not like this.”

I love you.

You lift your hips just enough to sink down on his cock. Seungcheol’s moan is loud and unabashed, not afraid to let anyone hear the way you make him feel. All he can think is familiar: he knows your blinding white heat; has made countless homes in your tight grip he still holds the keys to; has done this so many goddamn times it’s second nature.

He was an absolute fool to think he could ever walk away.

You roll your hips, taking him deeper like you’ve got something to prove, body moving on its own sinuous accord. Seungcheol loves you like this, when you know exactly what you want and aren’t afraid to take it. When you press sloppy kisses to his neck, the column of his throat. When he grabs at your hips, tries to move you faster along the length of his cock, and you swat his hands away. When your rhythmic up-and-down turns into a slow grind that has you gasping and breathless, pussy spasming around him.

“Goddamn, I love this pussy,” he chokes out, fingers gripping tightly at the sheets since he can’t touch you. He’s mindless with pleasure, feels himself start babbling nonsense he can’t make sense of, and it’s overwhelming, having you like this. Isn’t sure how he’s survived this long, but maybe you were right.

Maybe it was never like this before.

Usually he’d take you from behind, quick and dirty, hands digging into the meat of your ass, palm cracking down on it every now and then, imparting white heat of his own. Usually he’d have you beneath him, knees pressed to your chest, all condescension as you told him, eyes rolled back, that he was too deep, that you couldn’t take it, and he’d rub at your clit and tell you you could as he dragged another orgasm out of you. Usually he’d be so frenzied and worked up he’d take you against the door, sweats pushed to mid-thigh, forearms straining as they held you up.

So, yeah—this is different. This is a patient, sensual dance to the finish line. This is Seungcheol in his rawest form: a live wire, vulnerable, anxious. This is the unknown, because something has to come after but he doesn’t know what it is.

This is Seungcheol throwing caution to the wind, leaning in close enough to taste the salt on your skin, and saying, “I love you.”

This is Seungcheol planting his feet and fucking up into you, unwilling to hear your response. Sometimes ignorance is bliss, but sometimes bliss is just bliss, and he’ll willingly take either.

This is you coming undone on his cock, breathing rapid and ragged, pupils blown wide as you stare at him in awe.

“Say it again.”

Someone slams into the wall just outside Seungcheol’s door, and all at once the real world creeps back in: the thrumming bass line of the music downstairs; laughter, shouting, and yelling; fists banging on shut doors—but he hears you loud and clear. Presses each word into your mouth this time and groans when you swallow them. Barely makes a sound as he spills inside of you, feeling like every nerve in his body is aflame.

The two of you are quiet for a time as you try to catch your breath. Seungcheol only moves to grab his duvet and wrap it around your shoulders, smiling fondly at the small thank you you mumble, seemingly still bogged down, well-fucked.

He presses a tender kiss to the corner of your mouth.

“Okay?”

You nod, push at him until he lays back and pulls you with him, lets you use his firm chest as a pillow. That flag you’d made fun of before isn’t up there anymore, but Seungcheol feels warm at the memory anyway, almost laughs at the comment he imagines you’d make.

Clears his throat. Tries to find his courage. “I really am sorry,” he tells you again, because it doesn’t matter if he loves you if he doesn’t know how to be good at it.

“I know, Cheol,” comes your easy reply. You’re tracing shapes on his stomach that have his muscles contracting. “I know you love me, too.” You sigh, press your lips to his rib cage. “Who knew it’d only take making out with Mingyu to get you to admit it.”

A wild laugh tumbles out of him. “Fuck off.” He can feel your grin.

“You got a fucked up way of showing it, though.”

He hums, holds onto you a little tighter. “Go easy on me, I only figured it out about an hour ago.”

“An hour?” you faux-gasp, make like you’re about to leave. “I’m outta here. I know my worth. If I’m going to say it back to someone, they need to be in love with me for at least two.”

He chokes at the implication, heart threatening to beat right out of his chest and into yours. He knows he looks exactly like the moonstruck, loved-up loser he is, and he coughs to cover it. “That’s what I said,” he lies. “Two hours. You must’ve heard it wrong.”

No, it was never like this.

[grabby-smitten]

Hybrid!Sylus

Pairing: Sylus Qin x Reader

Word count: 1k+ words

Content: Hybrid AU, fluff mostly, domestic stuff, Headcanon-ish format, no beta and not edited, commas placed everywhere, tried to write it as gender neutral as possible, idk… let me know if i missed anything.

Hybrid!Sylus was part of an illegal fighting ring. So far none could find his hybrid specie. His ears, tails and any other hybrid features were cut off. When fighting, other hybrids could latch onto him so his previous owners made the decision to cut them or so you were informed.

Hybrid!Sylus who was rescued by your team from the illegal fights. All ferals were to be put down but you couldn’t get yourself to do as the higher ups ordered. As soon as you saw him bloodied and chained up in the lowest levels of the building, your heart sank and something deep inside you snapped.

Hybrid!Sylus who saw you first and instantly was struck by your scent. Almost all his life he has only known the smell of blood and grime but when he caught just a sniff, his nostrils flared and his mouth salivated. All He could see, hear and feel was you.

Hybrid!Sylus who began to growl and pull at his chains when you got nearer, but surprisingly you didn’t feel treated. Ordering your team to back away and leave you alone with the supposed feral was your best call. you instantly noticed he relaxed his posture but the animalistic sounds didn’t stop.

Hybrid!Sylus who didn’t let anyone near him or you as you transported him out of that disgusting place. Through the whole process of getting him checked by doctors and staff, you had to be there by his side, otherwise he would snap at every and any person or thing.

Hybrid!Sylus who was going to be sent to an experimental facility but you argued that it wouldn’t work. He had already stablished a connection with you and separating the two of you would threw him even more off balance. After hours of talking and waiting, you got the approval to officially adopt him. Sylus was under your care from then onwards.

Hybrid!Sylus who heard everything that was said about him and saw how much you had pressed for him against everyone’s wishes. Even he thought some of your colleagues had good arguments about why you shouldn’t adopt a feral, but alas, you were a stubborn thing. So here he was in a new home with a curious little female and he was not sure what to do with you.

On your part, you also didn’t know what propelled you to make such a bold decision. Now you watched a giant man— wait no, scratch that… hybrid? Yes, hybrid of an unknown species standing in the middle of your living room. What a disconcerting picture this painted…

Hybrid!Sylus who has been your companion for a few months now. He wasn’t as hard to take care as you thought. He seemed calm most of the time and listened to everything you told him. All the growling and aggressiveness from your first encounter looked like a feverish dream. Well, except when a third person was involved. Like the mailman. Poor delivery drivers suffered too and you couldn’t get Sylus to stop.

“Sylus! Stop!” You scolded him, “the mailman is not a threat!” Wrapping your arms around his waist and trying to pull him back inside was the best you have come up with so far.

“How so, kitten? He knows where you live. That’s threat enough for me,” he told you as his red eyes still followed the delivery truck.

“That’s the whole point of a mail delivery system,” you spoke out of breath.

once the truck was out of sight, Sylus finally let you— key words: let you— drag him back inside or more like he walked back inside with you hanging off of him.

Hybrid!Sylus who seemed suspiciously eager to wear a collar with a tag containing his name, yours and your number.

“I think it suits you,” you walked around him, straining your neck a bit so you could get a good look at the red collar around Sylus’ neck.

“So you like me in a collar?” Sylus deep timbre and alluring eyes made you freeze in place. A small smile adorned his lips at your very clear reaction to his words.

“Why are you making this conversation sound so dirty?” You retorted, a frown began to form on your face.

“I merely spoke a few words, that’s all on you, kitten,” with that stated, Sylus smile grew once he saw your face reddening.

Hybrid!Sylus who hated winter. You began to notice how every time it got colder he moved slower than usual and his intake of water decreased which worried you. Such actions gave you clues as to what species he could be, but nothing concrete.

Hybrid!Sylus who seemed to be suffering alone in his room in the cold months and your heart couldn’t bear the thought of it so you relented and allowed him to sleep with you.

Hybrid!Sylus who tried to hide how eager he was for your offer. He nonchalantly nodded as he heard your words but when it was time for bed he was already buried deep in your bedsheets.

Hybrid!Sylus who instinctively seeked out your body heat for comfort and reassurance that a you were near him in the cold nights.

Hybrid!Sylus who in the middle of the night made you his own body pillow. Morning came and you couldn’t move, a heavy body draped over yours and a pair of arms restricting all your movements. Even your lungs began to struggle.

“Sylus? Baby?” your muffled voice barely above a whisper, “Sylus?” As you increased the volume of your voice, you tried to push him off but all efforts were futile. Sylus was pure muscle.

You just laid there for a while and waited for him to wake up which was interrupted by the sudden pressure of your bladder. Now with a real reason to escape your imprisonment, you began to squirm and wiggle with more intensity in between Sylus’ arms. When out of nowhere, you felt a gravelly and hoarse sound. You stopped all your movements as vibrations that shook you to your core soon joined the haunting sound.

“Did you just growl at me?” You asked in disbelief. A bit startled, it made your stomach churn, your chest filled with a warm sensation that expanded up to your throat and cheeks.

“Sorry,” came quick from Sylus behind you. He released you from his constricted grasp just as fast.

“I thought so,” you huffed and jogged to the bathroom not seeing the longing gaze he directed at you. As if you're miles and miles away, yet you're a few feet from the bed and walking barefoot.

Barefoot, he realized. In an instant, Sylus stood up, picked up your shoes and made a beeline for the bathroom.

“Shoes,” you heard him said from your place in the toilet seat. Looking up, you were about to chide him for coming in without knocking but he continued. “The floor is cold,” and just like that you couldn’t be mad at him anymore.

Hybrid!Sylus whose story with you has just began…

AN: well, well, well. Guess what type of hybrid he is. Alsoooo this is my first fic thingy in like 3 years and I’m testing the waters and I wrote out of desperation. I lost my English and I’m this close to downloading Duolingo just to refresh my brain so I’m sosososososo sorry.

AND IF ANYONE HAS RECS FOR LADS HYBRID FF PLEASE SEND THEM MY WAY BECAUSE I CANT FIND MORE AND IM DESPERATE.

[solar-wing]

⚣ Shadowing Nightwing 🌗

🌃 Nightwing & Shadow 🌃 | 🌙 Nightwing's Shadow 🌙 |

⚣🌗 A/N → yall... i- i have no words for this. Final installment of the rewritten Nightwing & Shadow series. Hard to believe I first did this story over a year and a half ago and I'm just now finishing the third installment of the new version of it. And since it took so long, I decided to go all out...and I do mean all out. Someone get me to a church. ANYWAY, I hope you guys enjoy this! no i seriously do cause this right here is NAAAUUSSSSTTYYY! WARNINGS: 18+ MDNI | Omegaverse | Yandere Themes| Heavy Themes of Dub/Non-Con | Coercion | Finger Play | Oral Play | Full Smut | Manhandling | M-PREG | Knotting | Captivity | Mild Descriptive Violence | Mentions of Abortion | Heavy Implication of Gender Roles | ETC |

⚣🌗 Summary → Shadow, once a beacon of justice and independence for Omegas everywhere, has been reduced to nothing more than a subservient house Omega under the suffocating control of Dick Grayson. Living beneath the relentless gaze of Nightwing and Batman isn’t for the faint of heart—but they’re about to learn the hard way that Gotham’s Omega Savior is far stronger than they ever gave him credit for. After all, a shadow doesn’t just follow—it leads, outpacing those who underestimate it.

⚣🌗 Words → 15.4K (Post) | 45.3K (Total)

REBLOGS & replies are greatly appreciated, please! 💛

⚣ ENJOY 🌗

Y/N lay on his side, staring blankly through the window from the grand canopy bed in one of the many guest suites in Wayne Manor. The sheets were soft, expensive, and suffocating. Dick had insisted on carrying him all the way up here after their first heated "reunion" in the bathroom. Even now, Y/N’s body ached from the aftermath—his abused genitals throbbing with soreness and unwanted arousal.

The bedroom door creaked open, breaking Y/N from his haze. Dick strolled in, his casual confidence evident in every step. He was dressed down now, only in a pair of sweatpants with no shirt, but his presence was no less oppressive. His smile was soft, but his eyes were filled with that familiar, possessive hunger.

“How are you feeling, baby?” Dick asked, his tone low, almost tender.

Y/N clenched his jaw, refusing to respond. He’d learned that silence was his only weapon in this warped power dynamic. But the Omega’s silence didn’t seem to faze Dick—if anything, it seemed to amuse him. He approached the bed, settling himself on the edge beside Y/N, his hand reaching out to stroke Y/N’s hair.

“You’re still mad,” Dick observed with a chuckle, his fingers trailing down to caress Y/N’s cheek. “But that’s okay. You’ll get used to it here. To me.”

The Omega's skin burned under the Alpha's touch, and his stomach twisted in a mix of anger and disgust. Y/N jerked his head away, his voice strained. “That’s what you think. If you think abduction and holding me hostage are elements of a loving relationship, you and your family are more delusional and detached from reality than I could believe.”

Dick’s smile faded slightly, but his eyes remained dark and determined. “I know you think that now, but things change, Y/N. You’ll see. You just need to accept it.”

Y/N felt a surge of defiance swell within him. “Accept what? Being your prisoner? Your breeding stock?”

Dick’s expression hardened, and he leaned closer, his lips hovering near Y/N’s ear. “Accept that you’re mine, Y/N. You were always meant to be.” He pulled back, his tone softening again, almost coaxing. “And I’ll do whatever it takes to make you see that.”

Y/N's eyes narrowed, feeling a fierce determination flaring within him as he stared into the Alpha’s cocky gaze. He knew he couldn’t react, couldn’t fight back, at least not yet. As much as everything inside of him wanted to be anywhere but where he was at that moment, he was well aware that things would not be that simple or easy.

This was of course the Dark Knight, and his long-time sidekick he was dealing with.

The door opened again, and Bruce entered, his presence as commanding as ever. Speak of the devil…

“I trust you’re settling in,” he said, his gaze shifting between Dick and Y/N. His voice was calm but authoritative—a reminder of the invisible chains that bound Y/N to this manor.

“Oh, it’s an adjustment,” Y/N replied tersely, his voice betraying the dull, persistent ache in his lower regions—a testament to the rough "welcome" he'd endured just minutes ago on the cold porcelain counter. The soreness was mingled with an irritating warmth, a reminder of the Alpha’s invasive presence still lingering inside him.

Dick’s eyes glinted with pride as he picked up on the Omega’s resentful arousal. He said nothing, but his hand found its way to Y/N’s thigh, his fingers pressing down firmly. Y/N’s body tensed instantly, a sharp breath escaping him as he fought the urge to pull away. Bruce’s eyebrow arched at the sight, but he remained silent, satisfied with the subtle exchange.

Bruce nodded, his expression a mix of stern authority and old-fashioned pragmatism. “Good. We’ll give you time to settle in. I’ll have movers bring over your belongings from your apartment, and you can make this room your own. It’s important that you feel at home here—both for your own adjustment and for the future we envision.”

He turned to Dick, his tone shifting to that of a strict father setting boundaries. “Dick, you’ll be returning to Blüdhaven for a while, to give Y/N the necessary space to process his new surroundings. I expect you to sleep in your own room tonight and not push things too far, too fast.”

Too late for that.

Y/N’s chest tightened with a mixture of relief and dread, knowing that Bruce’s orders were likely temporary and primarily symbolic. It was less about respect for Y/N’s needs and more about enforcing his own twisted version of order. Still, he forced a nod, keeping his face neutral.

Bruce’s gaze returned to Y/N, his eyes sharp but not unkind. “As for returning to the field as Shadow, that won’t be happening right away. I believe it’s best for you to focus on adjusting to your role here—accepting Dick as your Alpha and, in time, embracing your place as an Omega. I know it’s not what you’re used to, but there are certain… expectations when it comes to family, structure, and tradition. I want you to take this time to understand that before we reintroduce you to the dangers of vigilante work.”

Y/N's stomach churned at Bruce’s words. The idea of being kept away from the field, especially under the pretense of “adjusting to his role,” was suffocating. It wasn’t just about him being Shadow—it was about keeping Y/N contained, trapped in a place designed to break him down and remold him to fit their desires. This was as much about control as it was about protection—protection from what, Y/N wasn’t even sure anymore. He simply nodded again, knowing full well that compliance was his only path forward.

“Fine,” Y/N agreed, his tone deliberately flat.

Bruce’s gaze remained steady as if assessing the Omega’s compliance. Satisfied, he nodded. “Good. I’ll see you both in the morning. Alfred starts breakfast by 7 so I’ll expect you both down there promptly. Dick, behave..”

Dick’s jaw tensed, a flicker of defiance flashing in his eyes, but he nodded, though it was clear the agreement was reluctant.

After Bruce left and closed the door behind him, Dick, seemingly content with Y/N’s outward submission, stepped closer. “Come on, Y/N,” he said softly, his voice layered with false gentleness as he extended a hand. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

Y/N resisted the urge to pull away, but he took the offered hand, letting himself be pulled off the bed and led into the adjoining bathroom. It was lavish and expansive, much like the rest of the manor, with a large marble shower already running, steam billowing around them.

Dick sat Y/N gently on the bathroom counter, his hands lingering on Y/N’s thighs, thumbs tracing the flesh possessively. Y/N clenched his jaw, trying to ignore the ache in his groin—a mix of soreness and lingering arousal from earlier. The Alpha’s scent was thick in the air, mingling with the steam, amplifying Y/N’s conflicted arousal. Dick’s touch was deceptively soft, as he helped Y/N out of his ruined suit, peeling away the fabric to reveal marked skin.

Once Y/N was fully exposed, Dick’s gaze lingered over the bruises and love bites scattered across the Omega’s body. He leaned in, pressing soft kisses to each mark, his voice low with a mix of apology and pride. “I know it’s a lot, but you wear them so well, baby.”

Y/N remained silent, his body tense, as Dick lifted him from the counter and carried him bridal-style into the shower. The water was hot, stinging against the sensitive spots on Y/N’s skin. Dick began to wash Y/N’s body with deliberate care, his hands rougher than necessary as they explored every inch of the Omega’s form. Y/N’s body responded, unwillingly, a traitorous heat pooling between his thighs. Dick’s fingers lingered there, massaging the slit between his legs slowly, his thumb teasing the slits while his other hand groped the small phallus organ that pulse slightly under his large grip..

Y/N tried to suppress a gasp, but the soft sound escaped him, earning a pleased hum from Dick. “See? You can’t help it. Your body knows who you belong to,” Dick murmured against Y/N’s ear, his voice filled with possessive satisfaction.

Y/N bit down on his lip, his hatred for Dick intensifying. He hated how his own body betrayed him, responding to the Alpha’s touch with a mix of desperation and resentment. The humiliation of it all only fueled his silent resolve: he’d find a way out of this, no matter what.

When the shower was done, Dick carried Y/N back to the room, giving him a rare moment of privacy. “You can dry off and lotion up,” he said, stepping back and out of the room with a promise to return swiftly.

Y/N took the opportunity to quickly dry himself and apply lotion, his movements efficient but hurried. As he finished, Dick returned with a pair of boxers and one of his shirts, laying them out on the bed. “Here, put these on,” the Alpha instructed, a smirk forming on his lips as his eyes roamed over Y/N’s vulnerable form, his gaze filled with an obsession that felt suffocating. “I want you to smell like me.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, suspicious of the Alpha’s intentions, but he took the clothes without argument. Dick turned around to give him a semblance of privacy, though Y/N could see the Alpha watching through the reflection of the large window in the room. Y/N quickly changed, the shirt and boxers feeling too intimate against his skin, the scent of Dick overpowering.

When he was done, he cleared his throat, signaling to Dick. The Alpha turned, his expression softening slightly as he approached Y/N. He leaned down, their faces inches apart, pressing a slow, possessive kiss to the Omega’s lips, his hand resting possessively on Y/N’s knee. Y/N didn’t return the kiss but maintained eye contact—an act of defiance that Dick acknowledged with a knowing smile.

“I humored you this time,” Dick said, his voice low. “But remember, I don’t need permission to look at your body. It, and you, belong to me.”

He suddenly yanked Y/N down onto the bed, positioning himself between Y/N’s legs. Y/N gasped at the unexpected motion, his legs spreading involuntarily, the heat of Dick’s body radiating against his own.

“Got that, babe?” Dick murmured, his lips pressing against the junction of Y/N’s neck and shoulder, right where his scent gland pulsed. He nipped at the skin, his teeth leaving a small, possessive mark.

“Got it,” Y/N gritted out, his fingers clenching into the sheets, his anger growing alongside the persistent, frustrating arousal.

Dick chuckled, his mouth curling into a cruel smile. “That’s my good boy.” He pulled Y/N up toward the head of the bed, positioning himself between Y/N and the door as he tucked them both under the covers, clearly disregarding Bruce’s faux order to sleep in his own bed. “Tim and Damian will help unpack your things tomorrow. Jason’s keeping an eye on your old place, so nothing goes missing—and maybe, in the future, we can go back there. Invite your old friend over, just so he can hear me fucking you against the door.”

Despite the crude words, a traitorous pool of arousal gathered in Y/N’s stomach, his body responding against his will. But beneath that, simmering beneath the surface, was a cold and calculated rage—a plan slowly forming in his mind.

Dick’s eyes flashed with a dangerous mix of victory and excitement as they lay on the soft, expensive sheets. “This is all I need, baby. Just you… here, with me.” He reached out, his hand resting possessively on Y/N’s thigh, his grip firm and claiming.

Y/N’s skin crawled at the touch, but he forced himself to remain still. He would endure this for as long as it took—until he could finally break free.

He’d get out of this. He’d get his revenge. And when he did, it would be slow, humiliating, and thorough.

Days blurred into weeks, and weeks into months. Y/N settled into a strange routine, with Dick constantly shifting between obsessive affection and domineering control. Whenever Dick was around, he oscillated between being tender and aggressive—bringing Y/N flowers one moment, only to pin him against the wall and rut into him the next. Nights were filled with rough, claiming sex, where Dick alternated between slow, sensual thrusts and raw, relentless fucking, always asserting dominance over Y/N’s body.

Whenever Dick left for Blüdhaven, Y/N felt a fleeting sense of relief. The days alone in Wayne Manor gave him moments of reprieve, but they were never truly free of surveillance. Alfred, true to Bruce’s orders, kept a watchful eye, making sure Y/N stayed within the designated rooms and didn’t do anything “out of line.” Meanwhile, Bruce’s strict regimen remained unwavering. He reminded Y/N of his role—both as Dick’s Omega and as a future asset to the Bat-Family.

Y/N’s introductions to the rest of the family were tense and calculated. Tim approached him with clinical curiosity, often observing Y/N’s behavior while trying to maintain an air of aloofness. Damian was less subtle, his disdain evident but mixed with a strange fascination—curiosity, perhaps, about how someone could challenge Dick’s claim so defiantly. Jason, surprisingly, was the least invasive, only stepping in occasionally, as if the whole ordeal bored him.

Despite the façade of family acceptance, Y/N’s presence remained a source of underlying tension. Everyone noticed that the bond between Dick and Y/N wasn’t taking hold as expected. The Omega’s stubborn resistance to Dick’s advances was palpable, his hatred simmering just beneath the surface. It wasn’t lost on Bruce, who often reminded Dick of his responsibility to “tame” Y/N, using the Omega’s reluctance as fuel to justify the invasive measures to come.

As time dragged on, it became clear to Dick's family that Y/N wasn’t relenting. His resistance gnawed at Dick’s patience, and the Alpha’s attempts at romantic gestures grew increasingly desperate. His frustrations were visible—every unreciprocated kiss, every empty “I love you,” only fueled the darkness within him. And as Y/N remained indifferent, the seed of an idea began to take root in Dick’s mind—one that Bruce subtly encouraged: ensuring Y/N’s loyalty by breeding him.

Though, it wouldn't go as expected.

Dick had been gone in Blüdhaven and for other missions for some time, far too long in his own head while Y/N would argue that it wasn't long enough. The night of his return, he'd opted out of patrol for that night, instead volunteering to give Alfred of reprieve from monitoring the Bat-Computer and the comms along with the Omega. Bruce figured it was a good idea as a way to start getting Y/N acclimated to their operation and procedures even if he still hadn't relented on letting him return as Shadow yet.

That's when it began.

Y/N had reluctantly accompanied Dick, who insisted that he wanted to “spend time together.” Dick was stationed at the Bat-Computer, coordinating comms and responding to Batman’s orders while Y/N sat beside him, scrolling through his phone. The space was dimly lit, filled with the soft hum of machinery and Dick’s occasional typing.

Dick, sensing Y/N’s boredom, pulled him closer, grinning when Y/N tried to inch his chair away. “Why do you always do this, baby?” Dick teased, his hands tugging Y/N onto his lap. Y/N squirmed in protest, but the motion only seemed to excite Dick more, as the hard length beneath Y/N’s thighs made clear.

“You know,” Dick began, his voice low, almost tender, “I can’t wait for when we have traditions like this—monitoring the city together, planning missions side by side.” His words dripped with longing. “Maybe our kids will take after us someday, running comms while you and I are out in the field.”

Y/N stiffened, his back rigid against Dick’s chest. The Alpha’s words struck a chord, one filled with implications Y/N wasn’t ready to face. “I’m serious,” Dick continued, pressing soft kisses along Y/N’s neck. “We’ll have a big house, kids who’ll inherit our skills. I’ll be the best dad—always making sure you’re happy and safe.”

Y/N tried to ignore the warmth pooling in his stomach, a traitorous reaction to Dick’s fantasies. He focused on his phone, willing himself not to respond, but Dick’s hands began to wander. Gentle caresses turned into possessive strokes, and soon Y/N found himself pinned against the Bat-Computer, his thin sweats pulled down to his ankles.

Dick thrust into Y/N slowly at first, relishing every inch as he filled the Omega, his hands gripping Y/N’s thighs to keep him in place. The slick sounds filled the cavernous room, mingling with Y/N’s soft whimpers as Dick’s pace gradually increased. Y/N tried to focus on the dull glow of the monitors, tried to detach himself from the overwhelming sensations, but it was impossible. Dick’s voice was a constant murmur in his ear—equal parts loving and possessive.

“You feel so good, baby,” Dick groaned, his movements becoming more forceful. “I love how wet you get for me.”

Y/N’s body reacted despite himself, his insides clenching around the Alpha’s cock. The humiliation only fueled his anger, but it also fed into his arousal—a maddening mix that left him trapped between hate and want. Dick’s thrusts grew erratic, his desire for control evident in every rough stroke.

Dick paused suddenly, leaning back just enough to observe Y/N’s body. His gaze darkened, a smug grin curling his lips as he noted something amiss. “You know, you haven’t leaked for me in a while,” he taunted, his voice dripping with cruel amusement. He ran his thumb teasingly over one of Y/N’s nipples, as if to draw out the desired response. “Not a drop. What happened, baby? Are you so mad at me that your body’s forgotten how to be a good little Omega?”

The mockery in his tone only added to Y/N’s humiliation, but before he could respond, Dick’s demeanor shifted, and the Alpha pulled back just enough to look Y/N directly in the eyes, a dark intensity replacing his earlier gentleness. “You’ve been keeping secrets from me, haven’t you?” he demanded, his voice low and dangerous.

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat, confusion and fear mingling in his gaze. “What are you talking about?”

Dick’s hand suddenly moved to grip Y/N’s arm—one that housed the small contraceptive implant. He squeezed it roughly, his fingers digging into the flesh. “This,” he growled, the word dripping with accusation. “When were you planning to tell me about this little device, hmm?”

Shock and dread washed over Y/N. Shit. He tried to pull his arm away, but Dick’s grip was unrelenting. “How—how did you know about it,” Y/N managed to ask, his voice barely a whisper.

Dick’s smile was cruel, filled with both satisfaction and anger. “Oh, baby, did you forget whose family you're part of now? Did you really think you could hide something like this from us, from me?”

Y/N’s throat tightened, and he struggled to find the words. “It’s not—”

“Not what?” Dick interrupted, his voice cold. “Not something meant to keep you from giving me what I want? From fulfilling your role as my Omega?”

Y/N’s eyes burned with unshed tears, a mix of rage and helplessness. “It’s my body, Dick. I get to decide.”

But the Alpha wasn’t listening. His free hand moved to Y/N’s throat, holding him firmly but not enough to restrict his breathing. “Not anymore,” he hissed. “You belong to me, Y/N. Every part of you.”

Dick’s thrusts resumed, but this time they were brutal, driven by a need to reassert his control. Y/N gasped at the intensity, his body jolting with each thrust, the computer’s edge digging into his back. Dick’s hand moved from Y/N’s throat to his jaw, forcing Y/N to meet his gaze. “I’m going to have it removed,” he declared, his voice filled with dark promise. “And then we’ll see how long it takes for you to accept your real place here.”

Y/N’s hatred for Dick solidified in that moment. This wasn’t just about domination—it was about breaking him completely, about taking away even the smallest semblance of control he had left. But Y/N vowed silently: he wouldn’t break, not like this. He’d find a way to use even this violation to fuel his escape, to strengthen his resolve.

But it was a bitter comfort in the face of what was to come. The weeks following the discovery of his contraceptive implant would be some of the darkest Y/N had ever endured. Dick's anger was palpable, simmering beneath every interaction, his obsessive need to dominate Y/N now mixed with betrayal. The Alpha’s desire for control grew more aggressive, his touches rougher, his demands more insistent. Where once there was the occasional hint of tenderness, there was now only a relentless, violent hunger.

Dick’s need to assert dominance over Y/N became brutal and unrelenting. He fucked Y/N whenever and wherever the urge struck—against walls, across tables, even in the middle of the night while Y/N slept. Dick's hand would clamp down over Y/N’s mouth, silencing any protest, and his hips would thrust with a single-minded need to remind Y/N of who owned him. Y/N’s body bore the marks of this unending battle: bruises, bites, and the ever-present soreness that followed each rough encounter.

At first, Y/N fought back fiercely, swinging between rage and disgust at the Alpha’s behavior. But resistance only seemed to heighten Dick's obsession, making him more desperate, more cruel. Dick’s eyes glinted with a dark satisfaction whenever Y/N struggled, as if every ounce of defiance was just further confirmation of the Omega’s need to be “broken.” Eventually, Y/N's resistance waned—not because his spirit was crushed, but because he understood that biding his time was his only option. He could no longer afford to waste energy fighting back physically; he needed to play the long game.

But a near breaking point came with the decision to remove the contraceptive implant. After discovering it, Dick wasted no time in making arrangements. Within days, Bruce had called in a favor with one of his surgeon contacts, setting the wheels in motion for a rushed, unsanctioned surgery. Y/N’s protests were loud and filled with rage—this violation was a line even Dick hadn’t crossed before, a forced act that stripped away the last shred of Y/N’s bodily autonomy.

“You can’t do this!” Y/N shouted as he was restrained by Bruce and Tim, the sterile scent of the operating room mixed with the sickly sweet smell of his own fear.

Dick’s expression was cold, determined. “You don’t get to decide that anymore,” he said flatly, his eyes devoid of their usual playful arrogance. “Not when you kept this from me.”

The procedure itself was quick but traumatic, the pain both physical and symbolic. As the surgeon removed the implant, Y/N felt an overwhelming sense of helplessness wash over him, like a final tether to his autonomy being severed. Tears burned at the corners of his eyes, but he refused to let them fall, biting down on his lip so hard that he tasted blood.

In the days following, Y/N was a mix of raw pain and seething rage. But amidst the anguish, there was a small, bitter hope—a sense that this forced change might actually work in his favor. Behind his flushed cheeks and angered breaths, the embers of his hatred burned hotter than ever. He would use this moment—this twisted, unwanted intimacy—to stoke his plan for revenge.

After the removal of his IUD, it wasn’t long before the familiar, overwhelming warmth flooded his veins, turning his thoughts hazy with lust. His scent, which had been muted and suppressed for so long, became potent—thick, heady, and impossible to ignore. The air in the room turned cloying with pheromones, the distinctive musk signaling his vulnerability as an Omega.

The scent reached Dick almost immediately, his nostrils flaring as he inhaled the potent aroma. The Alpha’s reaction was instant and primal, his pupils dilating as a rush of possessive desire surged through him. Y/N’s heat had triggered an impromptu rut, the feral side of Dick emerging with brutal force. His muscles tensed, every instinct urging him to claim Y/N thoroughly and completely.

Dick wasted no time. With a guttural growl, he grabbed Y/N and effortlessly hoisted him over his shoulder, his grip firm around the Omega’s thighs. Y/N let out a startled gasp, his body trembling from the sudden shift in position and the Alpha's dominating hold. Dick’s hand landed possessively on Y/N’s ass, a rough squeeze meant to both assert control and savor the Omega’s helplessness. The position only intensified Y/N’s arousal, the heat of his slick seeping through his underwear as he was carried like prey by his captor.

The room spun in Y/N’s vision as he dangled over Dick’s shoulder, the Alpha’s hand stroking the back of his thigh possessively. “You smell so fucking good, baby,” Dick rumbled, his voice thick with desire. “I’m going to take you apart.”

Every step sent jolts of stimulation through Y/N’s channel, his arousal heightened by the rough handling. His hands instinctively clutched at Dick’s back, his fingers digging into the taut muscles beneath the fabric of the Alpha’s black shirt.

“Put me down, Dick,” Y/N managed to protest weakly, but the heat-induced haze made it sound more like a plea than a demand.

“Oh, I will,” Dick replied darkly, his grip tightening as he crossed the room. “Right after I’ve got you exactly where I want you.”

Dick strode confidently toward the bed, his steps purposeful and filled with possessive intent. He tossed Y/N onto the mattress, the Omega landing with a soft thud, legs splayed as he tried to regain his composure. But the moment his back hit the bed, Y/N knew there would be no escaping the Alpha’s determination—no mercy, no reprieve. Only the raw, primal force of Dick’s rut colliding with his heat.

For the next several days, the bed became their battleground. Y/N’s slick drenched the sheets, his body leaking copiously—more than it ever had before, as if making up for lost time. The resurgence of his body’s natural lactosecretion only added to Dick’s fervor, his dark satisfaction evident in every claiming thrust. Outside of heat, Y/N remained stubbornly dry, a fact that gnawed at Dick’s psyche, intensifying his obsession with conquering the Omega completely.

“Fu-FUCK… a-ah, D-Dick hurry u-up… FUCK… pl-please,” Y/N groaned, his hands balling into fists as he pounded them against Dick’s sweaty back. Each teasing, agonizingly slow thrust left Y/N on the brink of insanity. He could feel the soreness in the junction between his neck and shoulder—a place sore from the numerous times Dick had sunk his teeth into it.

Y/N had lost count of how many times they’d fucked over the past week. The air was thick with sex and sweat, a stifling combination that blurred the line between pleasure and torment. The first heat after suppressants was always the hardest, the body’s natural rhythm disrupted, leaving Y/N’s mind fogged by lust. Dick’s anger seemed to vanish the moment he caught the first whiff of Y/N’s scent, his dark eyes gleaming with unbridled hunger.

Y/N wasn’t permitted to leave the bed except to shower or use the toilet. Even those brief moments of respite were often interrupted by Dick’s spontaneous urges, pressing Y/N against the shower tiles or fucking him on the cold bathroom floor. Each time, Y/N’s brain fogged over with carnal need, even as his resentment simmered beneath the surface.

“What's that baby?” Dick taunted, his voice thick with satisfaction as he continued his torturously slow thrusts. He barely grazed Y/N’s prostate, making the Omega whine in desperation. “You want me to fill you up, huh?”

“Do that again!” Y/N begged, wiggling his hips to create friction against Dick’s swollen cock. His walls clenched tightly, trying to keep the Alpha inside, desperate for the fullness that was constantly being denied.

Dick chuckled, the sound dark and low. His tongue flicked over one of Y/N’s leaking nipples, drawing a sharp gasp from the Omega. “You want my knot, little Omega?” he whispered against the sensitive bud, sending shivers down Y/N’s spine.

“Please…” Y/N’s voice broke, his body trembling with need.

“You gonna give me what I want?” Dick murmured into Y/N’s ear, his words like a dark promise. He released Y/N’s hands, allowing the Omega to scratch at his back—an act Dick encouraged by having Alfred remove all nail clippers. A testament to how much Dick liked being marked by the submissive just as much as he liked seeing the Omega marked by him. Even when Y/N had tried to bite his nails, Dick cuffed his hands behind his back for two days as punishment.

“Yes, yes I will! I promise!” Y/N cried, his words spilling out in a haze of desperation.

A guttural growl rumbled from Dick’s chest. He grabbed Y/N’s hair, yanking his head back to expose his throat while his other hand wrapped around the Omega's painfully engorged phallus member. The hot and throbbing opening between his slick-covered slits beneath the small shaft of his penis was in no better state with the Alpha's girth stretching the rim.

Dick pumped his fist, the motion rough and unforgiving. Y/N whimpered, his body arching as the dual sensations threatened to overwhelm him. His walls tightened around the Alpha's cock, the pressure increasing with each stroke.

“You’re gonna look so good carrying our baby,” Dick growled, delivering a punishing thrust against Y/N’s prostate at the mention of pregnancy. “I can’t wait for everyone to see your round belly, knowing it was me who knocked you up.”

The words, meant to be a show of dominance, sent Y/N into a spiral of pleasure and loathing. He screamed, his body shaking with overstimulation as Dick’s knot began to swell, locking them together. The Alpha’s teeth sank into Y/N’s shoulder, marking him again as his semen flooded the Omega’s insides.

“You’ll always be mine, no matter what,” Dick muttered, his voice filled with raw possessiveness. Y/N could feel the Alpha’s triumph in every word, his body still throbbing from the intense knotting.

The following 21 days were a blur of sex and psychological torment. Even after the mating cycles had broken, Dick continued to fuck Y/N relentlessly, determined to cement his claim in every way possible. The bed became their primary battlefield, but it wasn’t the only one—walls, tables, and the floor were all fair game in Dick’s obsessive pursuit of dominance.

Despite the physical exhaustion, Y/N’s mind remained clear—even with the consistent clouded mentality: this was all part of Dick’s attempt to establish complete control. And while his body couldn’t help but respond to the Alpha’s touch, his mind remained fiercely resistant.

Dick’s excitement to confirm a pregnancy grew with each passing day, and he became increasingly impatient. He refused to settle for a drugstore pregnancy test, insisting on seeing a doctor for definitive results. Bruce, as always, called in a favor to make it happen.

For the Alpha, the waiting results were not what he was expecting, much less hoping for. But for the Omega, it was a sign that there was a chance, a small window of opportunity.

When the doctor confirmed the negative result, Y/N could see the rage and disappointment flash across Dick's face. The Alpha's grip tightened around his arm, his fingers digging into the flesh. "How is that possible?" he demanded, his voice laced with anger.

“You didn't deliver on your promise,” Dick seethed after receiving the news.

The doctor’s explanation was simple: Y/N’s body was actively rejecting Dick’s mark and his sperm. The emotional turmoil Y/N harbored was severe enough to trigger a physiological response, preventing pregnancy. It was a rare but possible occurrence among male Omegas—one that worked in Y/N’s favor.

Dick was livid. His hands clenched into fists, his eyes flashing with a dangerous mixture of hurt and fury. “You promised me!” he shouted once they were back at Wayne Manor. The echo of his voice filled the grand hall, adding to the oppressive atmosphere that had settled over the estate.

“Well, you should know better than to believe anything we Omegas say when we’re that frustrated and horny,” Y/N retorted, a smug smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

Dick’s rage was palpable, but so was the growing tension between them. Y/N’s resistance had driven the Alpha to desperation, and the failure to conceive only made Dick more aggressive. He abandoned any pretense of kindness, reverting back to the cocky bastard Y/N had first met on that rooftop—only worse.

Dick made good on his earlier promise. One evening, he drove Y/N back to his old apartment, the sight of the familiar building pulling a pang of bittersweet nostalgia from the Omega. Y/N’s heart ached as they approached the entrance, the memories of a life he’d once known flooding back—moments of freedom, fleeting happiness, and a time before Dick’s suffocating presence.

But this wasn’t a visit for sentimentality. As soon as they stepped through the door, Dick’s demeanor shifted from quiet control to something darker, more menacing. He pressed Y/N roughly against the front door, his hands gripping the Omega’s wrists and pinning them above his head. His body loomed over Y/N’s, his voice a low growl that vibrated against Y/N’s ear.

“Do you know why I brought you here, baby?” Dick’s tone was a mixture of mockery and raw desire. “Because I want to remind you and someone else of who owns you now—who you belong to.”

Before Y/N could respond, Dick’s hand slid down to yank at the Omega’s clothing, tearing the fabric away in his haste. Y/N shivered, a mix of fear and unwanted arousal surging through him. The Alpha’s scent was thick and oppressive, making it hard to think, to focus on anything other than the heat of Dick’s body pressing against his own.

With one hand still pinning Y/N’s wrists, Dick used his other to fumble with his own pants, freeing his hard length. The desperation in his movements was palpable, driven by a primal need to assert his claim in the most degrading way possible. He aligned himself at Y/N’s entrance, his voice dripping with possessive lust as he taunted, “Let’s make sure Leo hears every fucking sound you make, sweetheart.”

Dick’s thrusts were brutal from the start, his pace unrelenting as he forced Y/N’s body against the door. The sound of flesh slapping against flesh filled the small apartment, accompanied by Y/N’s unwilling moans and Dick’s deep, guttural grunts. Each thrust was a punishing reminder of the power imbalance between them, of the dominance Dick sought to enforce not just over Y/N’s body, but over his very soul.

“Make sure he hears you, baby,” Dick ordered again, his voice low and harsh. He drove into Y/N with renewed force, his hips slamming against the Omega’s ass, each thrust calculated to elicit the loudest possible reaction. “I want him to know exactly who’s inside you right now.”

The mixture of pleasure and humiliation tore at Y/N’s sanity. His walls clenched reflexively around Dick’s length, slick pooling beneath them as his body betrayed him. He hated the way his voice rose in a series of helpless cries, hated how his body arched back to meet Dick’s brutal thrusts, but the Alpha’s relentless rhythm and taunting words left him powerless.

“You like this, don’t you?” Dick growled, his voice laced with both anger and twisted satisfaction. “You love being fucked like this, knowing your old flame is on the other side of the door, listening to every moan, every scream.”

Y/N’s response was an incoherent mixture of sobs and gasps, his mind too clouded by sensation to form words. But his silence wasn’t enough for Dick, who wanted more—who needed more. He leaned in, his breath hot against Y/N’s ear as he whispered, “Tell him, baby. Tell Leo who you belong to.”

The words struck Y/N like a physical blow. He tried to resist, tried to bite down the humiliation, but Dick’s hand found his throat, squeezing just enough to make him gasp. “Say it,” Dick demanded, his voice dripping with possessive fury. “Or I’ll make you say it.”

“Y-you,” Y/N finally managed to choke out, his voice breaking with the effort. “I-I belong to you, Dick.”

A dark, triumphant grin spread across Dick’s face, his pace becoming even more punishing as he reveled in Y/N’s forced confession. “That’s right, baby,” he murmured, his voice a mixture of cruelty and satisfaction. “You belong to me. Not him. Never him.”

Dick’s eyes flashed with a sudden, darker fury. He paused just long enough to lean in close, his breath hot against Y/N’s ear as he hissed, “If you were actually trying, you’d be pregnant with my child by now.” The words dripped with cruel mockery, each syllable soaked in bitter resentment. “Maybe you just need a reminder of what happens when you disobey me, hmm? Maybe that’ll teach you not to break your promises.”

Dick’s thrusts became rougher, driven by a wave of possessive rage. “And knowing he’s out there, listening to me fuck you senseless… maybe that’ll finally make your body accept me,” he spat, his voice dripping with twisted satisfaction. His words weren’t just directed at Y/N—they were a deliberate, taunting jab at the Alpha waiting helplessly on the other side of the door.

“Did you ever leak for him like you do for me?” he sneered, his voice loud enough to ensure that every word carried beyond the walls. “Did you let him knot you, or did you save that privilege for me alone? Because you and I both know who really owns you, don’t we?”

The dark emphasis in his tone was unmistakable, each declaration a bold, deliberate statement of his claim over Y/N—a challenge meant to wound not just the Omega but the Alpha outside, forcing him to hear the brutal, carnal proof of Y/N’s submission.

“No, no, no, no,” Y/N sobbed, his body shuddering under the assault of Dick’s words and the punishing rhythm of his hips. Every vicious thrust sent shockwaves of pleasure and humiliation through him, his slick gushing between them, amplifying the lewd sounds of their bodies colliding.

“Good,” Dick growled, his voice dripping with sinister satisfaction. “Because you’re mine—every inch of you, inside and out. Only I get to breed you, fill you up until you’re swollen with my kid.” His hand tightened around Y/N’s throat, not cutting off his air completely but exerting just enough pressure to make him gasp. “You hear me? You’ll only have my knot, push out my children. Only me.”

As if to emphasize his claim, Dick angled his hips sharply, driving into Y/N’s prostate with brutal precision. The force of the thrust ripped a guttural scream from the Omega, his body convulsing with overstimulation. The wet squelch of his slick filled the air, mixing with Dick’s guttural groans, creating a cacophony of raw, primal lust that echoed off the apartment’s walls.

“Say it,” Dick demanded, his voice a low snarl. “Tell me you’re mine, that you’ll give me what I want.”

“I’m yours,” Y/N choked out, tears mingling with the sweat on his flushed cheeks. “I-I’ll give you everything, just… just stop.”

But there was no stopping. Dick’s final thrusts were wild and merciless, each one accompanied by a surge of possessive triumph. His knot began to swell, locking them together in a forced bond that marked his victory. Y/N’s body trembled uncontrollably, his own orgasm ripped from him as the Alpha’s knot throbbed and expanded, pushing his seed deep into Y/N’s depths. Slick and cum oozed down the Omega’s thighs, a messy testament to the sheer force of Dick’s claim.

“Fuck, yes,” Dick groaned, his voice raw with satisfaction. “You’re gonna look so fucking good pregnant, baby. I want everyone to see what’s mine—round with our child, dripping with my cum.”

With his knot fully seated, he bit down victoriously on Y/N’s shoulder, his teeth sinking deep into the sensitive flesh, a searing reminder of ownership that burned both physically and emotionally. “He’ll never have you,” Dick declared, his voice low and raw. “You’re mine, now and always.”

The words were as much a declaration as they were a threat—a dark promise of more to come, a twisted vow that hung heavy in the air long after the final echoes of their coupling faded.

It was now going into six months—six months since Y/N’s arrival at Wayne Manor. The constant battles for dominance, the brutal sexual encounters, and the psychological warfare had taken their toll. But Y/N’s resolve remained unbroken. Beneath the façade of compliance, he was carefully laying the groundwork for his escape, gathering allies and resources while subtly manipulating the tensions between Dick and the rest of the Bat-Family.

And with Bruce finally sensing the strain between his son and the Omega, he began to question whether Dick’s approach was truly effective. The cracks in their control were small but significant—moments of hesitation, shifts in focus, brief concessions that Y/N seized upon with all the desperation of a man drowning.

Y/N had started to sow doubts strategically. He knew Bruce respected order above all else, and he used that to plant seeds of uncertainty. During seemingly harmless conversations, Y/N let slip mentions of his “adjustment difficulties,” emphasizing how forced compliance was hindering any real bond between him and Dick. He portrayed himself as malleable—capable of genuine acceptance, but only if given the opportunity to heal.

It was subtle, careful work. Y/N knew he couldn’t afford any mistakes; one misstep could shatter everything. But as he watched Bruce’s stoic expression shift into contemplation during one of their tense discussions, Y/N felt a flicker of hope he hadn’t experienced in months.

At night, Y/N lay awake, replaying each step of his plan in his mind. He could see the path ahead with a clarity sharpened by months of suffering. He knew it wouldn’t be easy—Dick’s possessiveness had only grown more suffocating, his surveillance more intense. But the cracks were there, visible in the way Bruce hesitated before issuing orders, in the way Alfred’s cold disapproval softened into the barest hint of pity.

Soon, Y/N told himself, the word a silent promise. The Bat-Family’s fortress of dominance was beginning to crumble, and Y/N intended to be the force that brought it down.

He would escape. He would reclaim his freedom. And when he did, he would make sure the world knew the truth about the Wayne family's dark, twisted control.

But for now, Y/N remained patient—like a predator watching for the perfect moment to strike. Because the longer he played his role, the deeper he burrowed into the Bat-Family’s trust. And the deeper he got, the more power he would have when the time came to tear it all apart.

Y/N’s life at Wayne Manor had shifted in unexpected ways since the last doctor’s visit confirmed the ongoing rejection of Dick’s bond. Bruce, accepting the expert’s recommendation, realized they were going to need a more measured approach. The stark realization that aggressive dominance wasn’t working led to a change in strategy. And while Dick remained desperate to cement a bond, Bruce encouraged him to ease off—give Y/N space to “heal” emotionally. It wasn’t a gesture of kindness, but a calculated move to reset the strained dynamics and, hopefully, break down Y/N’s resistance.

And it was just the calculated move the Omega was patiently waiting for.

Gradually, Dick loosened his grip. Y/N was allowed to leave the manor as long as he had a chaperone—Bruce, one of Dick’s brothers, or Alfred. He could also return to his old job at Wayne Enterprises, a move intended to “normalize” his captivity under the guise of giving Y/N more autonomy.

His return to Wayne Enterprises marked his own calculated step forward in his plan. With Bruce's suggestion to allow Y/N more freedom in hopes that it would get him to start letting down his guard, he could start to see the small little cracks in the oppressive intensity that had defined his existence at Wayne Manor since he'd arrived. Yet Y/N knew better than to actually let his guard down. The Wayne family was still watching, and he had to move cautiously, maintaining a balance between compliance and covert rebellion.

Every morning, Y/N followed a well-rehearsed routine: waking up to Dick’s possessive embrace, enduring his aggressive attempts at bonding, and then donning the façade of a compliant Omega as he prepared for work. He exchanged curt nods with Bruce at the breakfast table, endured subtle yet protective gazes from Damian, and caught Tim observing him with clinical curiosity. Alfred remained watchful, a silent sentinel who noticed every detail, no matter how small.

As Y/N made his way to Wayne Enterprises each day, he carefully crafted his persona—a seemingly resigned Omega who had accepted his place in the family. It was an act designed to lull the Bat-Family into a false sense of security. The truth was far more sinister: Y/N was navigating a deadly game of deception, one that required every ounce of his cunning.

The familiar scent of coffee and corporate politics would greet Y/N every time he stepped into the building. He kept his demeanor casual, but his mind was constantly alert. His co-workers welcomed him back with a mix of curiosity and genuine warmth—though a few appeared overly interested in his apparently public relationship with Dick Grayson. Y/N wasn’t naive; he knew that among the seemingly harmless smiles and greetings were likely a few informants, keeping tabs on him for Bruce or Dick.

The cautiousness didn’t extend to everyone. Among those Y/N was genuinely happy to see was Wyndall. The Omega’s soft-spoken nature had always been a source of comfort amid the high-pressure environment of Wayne Enterprises. Wyndall had been one of Y/N’s closest friends before the fateful night when Y/N, as Shadow, had intervened to save him from Nightwing's scheme. Thinking back, it'd made sense why Dick chose to target Wyndall when setting his trap for him.

Wyndall was a kind, gentle soul, and Y/N knew he could trust him. Obviously, he couldn't just jump in and tell the Omega everything. He had to wait it out, knowing Dick and Bruce were keeping eyes on him. But, as one of Y/N's only friends in the company, their friendship is rooted in shared experiences as Omegas navigating the power dynamics of Wayne Enterprises, he knew he could trust Wyndall.

“It’s good to have you back,” Wyndall said during their first lunch together. His eyes reflected both warmth and worry. “This place just wasn’t the same without you. Too many stuffy Alphas trying to boss us around.”

Y/N forced a smile, masking the darker memories that Wyndall’s words unintentionally stirred. “Yeah, I missed the banter too. It’s been… a long six months.”

In the weeks that followed, Y/N fell back into a predictable routine at work. He was careful with his questions and subtle in his interactions, knowing that any misstep could raise suspicions. He made sure to blend into the background when necessary, never drawing too much attention. It was crucial that he appeared content—another cog in the Wayne Enterprises machine. Yet, beneath the surface, Y/N was working tirelessly, each day bringing him closer to freedom.

Y/N and Wyndall continued their interactions with the kind of ease that came from years of shared experiences, but there was an underlying tension to Y/N’s behavior—an anxious edge that Wyndall was quick to pick up on. Though their conversations seemed casual, Y/N’s eyes would constantly dart around, his voice lowering to hushed tones whenever the conversation veered toward sensitive topics.

“Are you okay?” Wyndall asked one afternoon as they sat in a quiet corner of the office cafeteria, concern etched across his face. He leaned forward, his brow furrowed. “You’ve been… different since you came back. Always on edge, like you’re expecting something bad to happen.”

Y/N hesitated, eyes darting around the bustling cafeteria. He knew he had to be careful—he couldn’t risk even a single misstep. The looming presence of Dick and Bruce was still very much a reality, and he couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched, even in this seemingly casual setting.

“It’s… complicated,” Y/N finally whispered, his voice barely audible. “There’s something I need to tell you. It’s important, and you’re the only person I can trust.”

Wyndall’s concern deepened, his voice gentle but insistent. “What is it? You know you can tell me anything.”

Y/N swallowed hard, feeling the weight of what he was about to reveal. “Do you remember that night here at Wayne Tower? Last year, when you were cornered by Nightwing?”

Wyndall stiffened at the memory, a mix of fear and bitterness flashing across his face. “Yeah, I remember. I sent a distress signal, but the police thought I was just a hysterical Omega making up stories. No one followed up on it.”

Y/N’s jaw tightened, a surge of anger rising in his chest. “I know they didn’t,” he said quietly. “Because I was there.”

Wyndall’s eyes widened, his confusion palpable. “What do you mean, you were there?”

Y/N took a deep breath, trying to keep his voice steady. “After you sent that distress signal, Shadow showed up to help you. He fought Nightwing off long enough for you to escape, but… you never saw what happened next, did you?”

“No,” Wyndall admitted, his expression growing more bewildered. “I just assumed Shadow got away. No one’s heard from him since then.”

Y/N’s gaze dropped to the table, his fingers fidgeting restlessly. “He didn’t get away, Wyndall. Nightwing caught him and delivered him straight to Batman.”

Wyndall’s face shifted from confusion to shock, his voice incredulous. “Wait, how do you know all of this? Did Shadow somehow get a message out?”

“No,” Y/N said, his voice low and pained. “I know because… I am Shadow.”

For a moment, Wyndall simply stared at him, his expression a mix of disbelief and astonishment. “What? But… how? Shadow was an Alpha. He fought Nightwing and held his own—”

“Because that’s what everyone assumed,” Y/N interjected, his voice urgent but steady. “Everyone believed Shadow had to be an Alpha because no one wanted to imagine that an Omega could stand a chance against someone like Nightwing without being one or even a Beta. But I’m telling you the truth, Wyndall. I am Shadow.”

The room seemed to hold its breath, and Wyndall’s eyes were wide, his mouth slightly agape. “Why are you telling me this now?” he finally asked, his voice a mixture of awe and disbelief.

Y/N leaned closer, his voice barely above a whisper but heavy with desperation. “Because I need someone I can trust, Wyndall. And right now, you’re one of the few who can help me.” He paused, taking a shaky breath. “Those vigilantes—Nightwing, Batman, Red Robin, Robin—all of them, they aren’t the heroes everyone thinks they are. They claim to protect everyone, Alphas, Betas, Omegas alike. But behind the mask, they’re just like the people we’ve had to fight against all our lives—using their power to control, to dominate, all in the name of the so-called ‘greater good.’ They see us Omegas as objects, as lesser beings meant to be used and owned.”

Wyndall’s eyes widened, a mix of shock and horror etched across his features. “I… I don’t understand. How could you know all of this?”

Y/N’s voice turned bitter, the words laced with the pain of everything he’d endured. “Because I’ve been their prisoner for the past seven months, Wyndall. That night, when Nightwing attacked you, it was all a setup to lure me in. He ambushed me, forced himself on me, and then dragged me straight to his ‘leader,’ Batman. They didn’t care about right or wrong—they just wanted to control me.”

The horror in Wyndall’s expression deepened, and Y/N pressed on, his words filled with raw emotion. “Batman forced me to join his little band of vigilantes, but that wasn’t even the worst part. He handed me over to Nightwing, made me his breeding stock, his Omega—forcing me into a role I never wanted. They used my biology against me, calling me a ‘liability,’ and made it clear that if I didn’t comply, I’d remain their captive indefinitely. I was stripped of everything—my freedom, my autonomy, my very identity—just so they could break me into the ‘doting husband’ Nightwing wanted.”

Wyndall’s face paled, his voice trembling with disbelief. “But… why would they do this? They’re supposed to be the protectors, the ones who fight for people like us.”

“They’re just as ruthless as the worst Alphas we’ve faced,” Y/N replied bitterly. “They justify their actions as ‘necessary’ for Gotham’s safety, but it’s all about power. They took everything from me, and now I need to take it back. I need your help to get away from them, Wyndall. I need to be free.”

Wyndall’s face was a storm of horror, shock, and overwhelming guilt. The hero who had once saved him—the Omega who had answered his call for help, risking everything—had been reduced to a prisoner, punished for simply wanting to protect others. Y/N’s revelation struck him deeply, each word a painful reminder of the countless Omegas Shadow had saved, only to become the one who needed saving most.

The fallout from Shadow’s disappearance had been swift and brutal. Without the Omega Savior patrolling the streets, crimes against Omegas surged. Alphas and Betas, unrestrained by fear of reprisal, resumed their abusive behaviors with a renewed sense of entitlement. Wyndall himself had narrowly escaped several attacks, each incident making him wonder where the vigilante who had once been their shield had gone.

Now, knowing the truth, anger burned within him—an anger fueled by betrayal. The same heroes Wyndall had once looked to for protection were nothing more than hypocrites, preying on the very people they claimed to protect. It was a story Wyndall knew all too well; he'd seen it before, but this? This was the breaking point. They had used him as bait to ensnare another Omega—his own friend.

But the family of vigilantes had miscalculated. They didn’t know that Wyndall had connections of his own. Many of those Y/N had saved had become allies and friends, loyal to the vigilante who had risked everything for them. One Alpha in particular—Leo—had been frantic over Y/N’s sudden disappearance, even more after an apparent incident at Y/N's apartment. When Wyndall told him the truth, Leo would be more than ready to act.

Wyndall’s eyes blazed with fierce resolve. “What do you need me to do?” he asked, his voice steady and filled with unwavering determination.

Tears stung Y/N’s eyes, seeing his friend's absolute support. He knew it wouldn't be easy, had witnessed how resourceful and and calculating the Dark Knight and his entourage of so-called heroes were. But, he could also feel that small spark of hope, a flame that was so tiny, but all he had to hold on to for the seven six months he was in that manor by himself, get just a bit bigger. It was a reminder that now, after so long being ioslated, he wasn’t fighting this battle alone anymore.

Tears pricked Y/N’s eyes, a mix of relief and gratitude overwhelming him. He hadn’t expected such unwavering support, even from Wyndall, and the weight of it settled heavily in his chest. Y/N had seen firsthand how calculating and ruthless Bruce and his so-called heroes could be. He knew escaping them would be no easy feat. But in this moment, he felt a small spark of hope—a spark that had kept him alive through the six agonizing months of captivity.

It wasn’t much, just a faint, flickering flame that had been his only source of light in the darkness. But now, that flame burned just a little brighter, fanned by the knowledge that he wasn’t alone anymore. For the first time since his capture, Y/N felt a surge of genuine hope.

Over the following weeks, Y/N's life at Wayne Enterprises fell into a careful rhythm. He balanced the act of appearing compliant with his covert plotting. Each morning, he endured the routine of waking up in Dick’s suffocating embrace, forced smiles and empty pleasantries with Bruce and the rest of the Bat-Family. At work, however, Y/N found a semblance of freedom—a familiar but cautious sense of normalcy.

Bruce seemed genuinely pleased to have Y/N back in the corporate fold, which worked to the Omega's advantage. One afternoon, Bruce invited Y/N to lunch under the guise of a business meeting. Y/N kept his face neutral as Bruce droned on about Wayne Enterprises' future and potential joint projects with the city’s police department, but internally, he was calculating how to extract more information that could aid his escape.

"I’m glad you’ve come back to us," Bruce said earnestly between bites of a gourmet salad. "I’ve always believed you were a good fit here, even before things... escalated. You’ve always had a strong sense of justice, Y/N. And I know that’s something Dick admires in you too.”

Y/N forced a small smile, hiding the unease that gnawed at him. He nodded politely. “I appreciate that, Mr. Wayne. I just want to make the best of things, you know?”

Bruce’s expression softened, and he leaned in conspiratorially. “You know, I’m very fond of you. You’re strong, resilient—an excellent match for my son. It’s not easy being part of this family, but you’re handling it well.”

Y/N felt a bitter laugh claw at the back of his throat but managed to keep it suppressed. “Thank you, Bruce,” he replied simply, knowing full well that pushing back or showing resistance would only complicate things further. He needed Bruce to believe in the facade he’d carefully constructed. Even if the billionaire was aware of his scheming which he wouldn't be surprised by, the smartest thing for him to do would be to continue the act. It'd gotten him this far.

After the lunch meeting, Y/N made his way back to his office, his mind already buzzing with plans. As he stepped inside, he found Wyndall waiting, holding a stack of documents that were mostly for show. Wyndall’s eyes held a flicker of excitement, a silent acknowledgment that their plans were advancing.

“Everything go okay with Bruce?” Wyndall asked, a hint of amusement in his voice.

“Same as always,” Y/N said dryly, then added with a teasing smirk, “I noticed he’s been laying on the charm with you lately.”

Wyndall’s cheeks flushed slightly, but he rolled his eyes. “Please. The man flirts like it's part of his job description. But hey, if it keeps him distracted and off your back, I’m not complaining.”

Y/N chuckled, but his eyes were serious. “Keep playing along, Wyndall. The less he suspects, the better.”

As the weeks passed, Wyndall became Y/N’s lifeline, relaying coded messages to trusted contacts on the outside. Y/N’s old college friends, the ones who had helped him build his vigilante persona from scratch, were still well-connected and resourceful. They had provided Y/N with gear, information, and safe houses back when he was still able to operate freely. Now, Wyndall was reconnecting with them, subtly conveying Y/N’s situation and gauging their willingness to help.

“Good news,” Wyndall whispered one morning as they met in the break room under the guise of grabbing coffee. “I’ve reached out to Leo and some of your old allies. They’re all in. They’re ready to move as soon as you give the word.”

Y/N’s heart lifted, and for a brief moment, he allowed himself to feel hopeful. “Thank you, Wyndall,” he murmured, his voice sincere. “I owe you more than I can ever repay.”

Wyndall shook his head, his voice equally quiet but firm. “No, Y/N. We owe you. You saved us all when no one else would. It’s our turn to save you.”

Despite the growing sense of hope, Y/N knew he couldn’t afford to get complacent. Every move had to be calculated, every interaction with the Waynes carefully managed. He continued to play the dutiful partner at Wayne Manor, enduring Dick’s increasingly desperate attempts to bond with him. Though the sex was no less aggressive or possessive, there was a desperation to it now—a frantic need to solidify a connection that simply wasn’t taking hold.

His obsession with impregnating Y/N persisted, though the physical intensity of his efforts varied. Despite Bruce’s suggestion to ease off, Dick remained fixated on the idea that a child would be the ultimate bond between them. He believed that Y/N's resistance could be overcome through sheer persistence and frequent sexual encounters.

His desperation was rooted in the unique nature of bonding itself. It’s not just a bite or a single act of marking; it’s a series of connected actions—intimacy, emotional vulnerability, and a deep mental connection that needs to be nurtured over time. Bonds that form willingly tend to be stronger and healthier, but forced bonds are often unstable, marked by volatility and strain. It is why mating bonds hold a higher status than legal marriages; the physical and psychological ramifications of breaking one can be devastating, even fatal, to one or both partners.

The theory that pregnancy could facilitate bonding has persisted for years, though it has never been definitively proven. Researchers have long speculated that a pregnancy between an Alpha and an Omega, or even a Beta and an Omega, could help solidify a bond—even in cases where one partner is unwilling or resisting. The rationale is that the hormonal and biological changes triggered by pregnancy may influence the subconscious bond between partners, making it more difficult to resist.

For Alphas like Dick, this theory isn’t merely speculative science—it’s a lifeline, a desperate bid for control. The idea that a child could finally cement the bond between him and Y/N has become an obsession, a relentless pursuit driven by his natural dominant Alpha nature, paired with his possessive attitude and fear of losing Y/N entirely. To Dick, a child isn’t just about family or legacy; it’s the ultimate means of tying Y/N to him permeanently, both physically and emotionally.

Despite Bruce’s insistence on a more measured approach, Dick continues his efforts to impregnate Y/N. The physical intensity of his encounters varies—sometimes brutal and aggressive, other times slow and almost pleading—but the end goal remains the same: breaking Y/N's resistance and establishing a bond that has so far eluded him.

For Y/N, each encounter is a twisted blend of rage and resignation. He knows exactly what Dick is trying to achieve, and while the physical invasion is brutal in itself, the deeper violation is the attempt to force a bond that could have devastating consequences for both of them—especially for the Omega.

The safest way to dissolve a bond is gradual separation, letting it fade over time. Abrupt breaks or disruptions, however, can be severe. Infidelity, abuse, emotional strain, or even minor conflicts can weaken a bond, causing mild depression, anxiety, and a lingering sense of emptiness. But with a stronger, more established bond, the fallout is far worse: severe trauma, debilitating illness, and, in extreme cases, even death.

This is Dick's ultimate goal and the reality Y/N faces—control through leverage. If he succeeds in cementing a bond, any chance of Y/N escaping the Waynes' grasp would be shattered. Y/N's resistance isn't merely about preserving his autonomy; it’s about protecting what little remains of his mind and spirit, still unbroken.

Every time Dick’s efforts fall short, it only fuels the Alpha’s resolve to try again, believing that persistence will eventually wear down Y/N's resistance. Dick’s actions are driven by more than just possessiveness—they're also fueled by a deep-seated fear. If he fails to bond with Y/N, he risks losing him entirely, and that’s something Dick is determined to avoid at all costs.

Even Bruce, as calculated as he is, understands the stakes. He knows that Dick’s obsession is not just about Y/N as an Omega; it’s about what Y/N represents to Dick—an unfulfilled desire, a sense of ownership that remains incomplete. Bruce’s suggestion to ease off on the intensity was not out of compassion, but strategy. He recognizes that forcing a bond could backfire, potentially breaking Y/N’s spirit beyond repair or even driving him to further rebellion.

But for now, Dick remains undeterred, holding onto the belief that Y/N’s body—if not his mind—will eventually submit. The desperate cycle continues, each encounter a brutal mix of possessive lust and forced intimacy, leaving Y/N with the bitter understanding that Dick will not stop until the bond is made, one way or another.

Whenever Y/N was at work, Dick would often show up unannounced, using the guise of a lunch date. But those visits, once casual, quickly escalated into increasingly aggressive displays of possession.

After one particularly disruptive incident, Bruce had to intervene. “Dick, you need to control yourself,” Bruce warned, his tone stern but not entirely unsympathetic. “Your behavior is affecting Y/N’s work—and the company’s reputation.”

Dick’s response was defiant. “I’m just trying to solidify our bond, Bruce. You of all people should understand that.”

But even Bruce’s reprimands couldn’t completely curb Dick’s obsessive behavior. He found ways to maintain his hold over Y/N, even outside of work.

One night, Dick’s patrol had taken an unexpected detour. With the city quiet and most of Gotham’s rogues either hiding or licking their wounds, there was more than enough time for him to indulge his carnal desires. It was the perfect opportunity to take Y/N for a spin—both literally and figuratively. As Nightwing, he often let his impulses run wild, and this night was no different.

The Batmobile’s interior was dimly lit, the blue glow of its dashboard casting dark shadows over Nightwing’s form. His muscular frame, clad in the iconic black and blue suit, exuded raw power. The sleek, black leather hugged every inch of him, making his presence even more intimidating, yet undeniably alluring. His signature bird emblem gleamed against the dim light, and his grin was nothing short of devilish.

Y/N was thrown onto his lap the moment the autopilot was engaged, forced to straddle the Alpha in the cramped vehicle. “Let’s see how fast we can go while you ride me,” Nightwing taunted, his voice deep and filled with lust, the heat of his breath fanning Y/N’s cheek. It was a dangerous game, but one that had become all too familiar between them.

Y/N's body tensed instinctively, trying to maintain the last fragments of resistance. “You’re insane,” he managed to whisper, but his tone lacked conviction. His Omega instincts were betraying him, responding to the heat and the primal energy radiating from Nightwing.

“I might be,” Dick admitted with a smirk, his hands already moving to slide up Y/N’s thighs, feeling the taut muscles beneath. “But you love it, don’t you?” He continued his teasing touches, rough hands squeezing the Omega’s hips possessively before pushing up Y/N’s shirt, exposing his chest.

Y/N shivered at the contact, torn between defiance and the undeniable pull of his biological instincts. His body betrayed him, slick starting to pool beneath him, dampening the fabric of his pants. It was humiliating to be so responsive, but it was the truth—his Omega nature couldn’t resist the call of a dominant Alpha, especially one who wielded power so effortlessly.

Dick noticed immediately, a satisfied chuckle escaping his lips. “See? I knew you couldn’t help yourself. You were made for this, Y/N.” He shifted his hips upwards, grinding against Y/N’s entrance, the bulge in his suit pressing insistently. “You can try to fight it, but we both know who’s in control here.”

Y/N tried to maintain his composure, his breathing shallow and erratic. He could feel the hard press of Dick’s arousal against him, the thick heat promising both pleasure and domination. The confined space of the Batmobile only added to the intensity, making it feel as if there was nowhere to escape—even if he wanted to.

“Remember the first time we were here?” Dick whispered into Y/N’s ear, his voice dripping with sinful nostalgia. “You were so stubborn then, trying to push me away even as your body begged for more. I told you then that I’d make you mine, and look where we are now.” He nipped at Y/N’s earlobe before tracing a line down his neck, the touch both possessive and tender.

Y/N whimpered, torn between pushing Dick away and giving in to the overwhelming desire. His slick was embarrassingly copious now, dripping down his thighs, betraying his internal struggle. Dick’s touch was rough, his fingers sliding into the wet heat with a confidence that spoke of ownership.

“Feel how wet you are?” Dick taunted, pumping his fingers inside Y/N with slow, deliberate strokes. “All for me. You’re practically begging to be fucked.” His voice was thick with lust, his blue eyes gleaming behind the black mask as he watched Y/N’s face contort with conflicting emotions.

Y/N’s head fell back against the cool glass of the Batmobile’s window, his body trembling as Dick’s fingers played him like an instrument. He hated how good it felt, how his Omega instincts urged him to submit completely, to let the Alpha take control. The shame was there, but it was drowned out by the flood of arousal that Dick had expertly drawn from him.

“Say it,” Dick whispered harshly, his lips brushing against Y/N’s ear. “Admit that you want it.”

Y/N’s breath hitched, his voice barely audible as he struggled to find words. “I… I hate you,” he choked out, his tone laced with both anger and reluctant desire.

Dick’s grin widened, his fingers thrusting harder in response. “I can work with that,” he said with dark amusement. “But I want more than just your hate. I want you to admit that you want this—that you need it.” He leaned back, his free hand moving to undo his own zipper, releasing the long, throbbing length that had been straining against his suit.

Y/N’s eyes widened, the sight of the Alpha’s cock sending a fresh wave of arousal through him. What he lacked in girth, he made up for in length, the tip already glistening with precum—a sight he had become shamefully accustomed to. “No,” he managed to whisper, shaking his head weakly. But his body betrayed him, shifting forward involuntarily, driven by instinct.

“Yes,” Dick insisted, his voice low and commanding. He positioned Y/N over his lap, the head of his cock pressing insistently against the Omega’s dripping entrance. “Say it, Y/N. Admit I'm your Alpha.”

Tears of frustration welled up in Y/N’s eyes, his body shaking with need and defiance. But the pressure was too much, the thick heat of Dick’s cock against his opening breaking down the last of his resistance. “You… You're my Alpha,” he finally confessed, his voice a mix of desperation and surrender.

“That’s what I like to hear,” Dick growled, and with a sharp thrust, he buried himself inside Y/N, filling him completely. The Omega cried out, his body arching as he felt the throbbing tool plunge deep into his depths, stretching him open. It was both painful and satisfying, a reminder of the power dynamic that defined their twisted relationship.

Dick’s hands gripped Y/N’s hips, guiding him into a punishing rhythm. “Ride me, baby,” he ordered, his voice rough with pleasure. “Let’s see just how fast we can go.”

Y/N’s body moved on instinct, hips grinding down as he adjusted to the fullness inside him. The car’s interior was filled with the obscene sounds of their coupling—the wet slap of skin against skin, the creak of leather, and the muffled groans that escaped Y/N’s lips.

“You’re so fucking tight,” Dick grunted, his hands digging into Y/N’s hips as he thrust upwards, meeting the Omega’s movements with brutal force. He was relentless, his pace quickening as they chased their shared release. “You were made for this, Y/N. Made to take my cock, to be filled by me.”

Y/N’s mind was a haze of pleasure and shame, the desperate need to climax overtaking any rational thought. He hated how much he craved the Alpha’s touch, but in this moment, he was helpless to resist. “F-Fuck,” he stuttered, his voice breaking as he felt the familiar tightening in his passage.

Dick’s grip tightened, his thrusts growing more erratic as he neared his own release. “That’s it, baby,” he encouraged, his voice hoarse. “Cum for me. Show me how much you love being fucked by your Alpha.”

With a final, shuddering moan, Y/N’s body gave in, his climax crashing over him in waves. His slick gushed around Dick’s cock, the wet heat driving the Alpha over the edge. Dick buried himself deep inside, his knot swelling as he filled Y/N with his seed.

For a moment, they were both still, their heavy breathing the only sound in the car. The bond they both sought to forge and resist hung thick in the air, a reminder of the twisted connection that kept them tethered.

“Filthy Omega,” Dick whispered harshly against Y/N’s ear, his voice dripping with dark satisfaction. “Look at the mess you made. Slicked all over my cock like a needy slut.” The Alpha’s words were a twisted mix of degradation and praise, sending a new wave of heat rushing through Y/N’s trembling body. The confined space of the Batmobile only seemed to amplify the raw, primal energy between them.

Dick’s hands gripped Y/N’s hips with a bruising force as he pulled out, letting his spent cock slip free with a wet sound. Y/N’s thighs quivered, slick and cum dripping down his skin, creating an obscene trail of fluids that smeared over the dark leather of the center console. The Omega’s breath came in ragged gasps, the lingering pleasure of his climax mingling with a deep, humiliating shame.

“But don’t worry,” Dick continued, his voice low and possessive, lips brushing against the shell of Y/N’s ear. “I’ll clean you up. Just like I always do.” There was a sinister tenderness in his tone, as if he relished the contrast between his rough dominance and the twisted care he took afterward.

Before Y/N could fully comprehend what was happening, Dick roughly lifted him off his lap, flipping him over the center console with practiced ease. Y/N’s face pressed into the cool leather of the passenger seat, his ass raised high in the air while own his aching, leaking Omega penis was trapped awkwardly against the console. The position was utterly degrading, a blatant reminder of his vulnerability and the absolute control the Alpha held over him.

“Stay right there,” Dick ordered, his grip firm as he held Y/N’s thighs apart, exposing the slick, swollen flesh still glistening with his cum. There was no mercy in his touch, only a possessive hunger that burned in his eyes as he took in the sight of the Omega’s dripping hole.

Y/N’s instinct was to close his legs, to hide himself from the Alpha’s ravenous gaze, but Dick’s hands kept him spread open, fingers digging into the soft flesh with bruising intent. “You taste so good, baby,” he murmured, the anticipation thick in his voice.

And then, without any warning, Dick’s mouth was on him.

The first swipe of the Alpha’s tongue was hot and wet, lapping hungrily at the slick-smeared grooves. Y/N’s body jolted, a shocked gasp escaping his lips as the sensation rippled through him. He tried to squirm away from the overwhelming contact, his instincts telling him to flee, but Dick’s hands were relentless, holding him in place with a force that made it clear there was no escape.

“Stay still,” Dick commanded, his voice a guttural growl as his tongue delved deeper, greedily tasting the mix of their fluids. The sound of his mouth working over Y/N’s sensitive flesh was lewd and messy, echoing obscenely within the confines of the Batmobile’s soundproof interior.

Y/N’s entire body trembled, every nerve ignited by the Alpha’s relentless assault. The shame of being spread and licked clean like this was almost unbearable, yet the sensation itself was maddeningly good. His mind screamed at him to resist, but his Omega instincts betrayed him, sending pulses of pleasure through his overstimulated core.

“Look at you,” Dick mocked between rough licks, his breath hot against Y/N’s slickened skin. “Still so sensitive… still leaking for me.” His voice was a mix of cruelty and dark amusement, each word punctuated by another obscene slurp. “You were made for this, weren’t you? Made to be fucked, bred, and tasted by your Alpha.”

Y/N’s thighs quivered uncontrollably, his breath hitching with each swipe of Dick’s tongue. He tried to press his hips forward, seeking some kind of relief from the intensity, but Dick’s strong grip kept him pinned firmly in place. The Alpha’s mouth was merciless, alternating between long, languid licks and sharp, teasing nips that sent jolts of pleasure-pain through Y/N’s body.

Tears pricked at Y/N’s eyes, a mix of humiliation and desperate arousal welling up inside him. He hated how much his body responded to this, how his instincts pushed him to arch further, to present himself even more to the Alpha’s insatiable mouth. “P-please,” he finally managed to whisper, his voice barely audible and thick with shame.

“Please, what?” Dick mocked, his voice muffled as his tongue continued its sinful exploration. “Please stop? Or please keep going?” He pulled back just enough to let the words hang in the air, the wet, slick sounds of his mouth pausing for a moment.

Y/N squeezed his eyes shut, the shame of the situation overwhelming. “Please…” he choked out, not even sure what he was begging for anymore.

Dick’s laughter was low and satisfied, a dark rumble that sent a shiver down Y/N’s spine. “Good Omega,” he murmured approvingly, before diving back in with renewed vigor. His tongue pressed deep, swirling around Y/N’s entrance, tasting every last drop of slick and cum that still clung to the Omega’s abused hole.

The rest of the patrol was spent with Dick’s tongue buried deep inside Y/N, licking and tasting until he was satisfied. The Omega’s cries were silenced by the Batmobile’s soundproof casing, the outside world blissfully unaware of the depravity taking place within Gotham’s iconic vehicle.

And when it was finally over, Y/N was left trembling and spent, the lingering taste of shame and reluctant pleasure still heavy on his tongue.

It wasn’t just confined to work or the Batmobile. About a month after the apartment incident, Dick fell into another rut—a state that left Y/N bracing for days of relentless, obsessive attention. And the Alpha did not disappoint.

The first night, there was no pretense of gentleness or affection. The moment Dick caught Y/N’s scent, his eyes darkened with raw, desperate hunger. He didn’t waste time with words or coaxing; instead, he moved with urgency, his hands roughly grabbing Y/N’s arms and pinning him against the nearest wall. The Omega struggled instinctively, trying to twist away from the Alpha’s iron grip, but it was useless.

“You know exactly what’s coming,” Dick growled, his voice hoarse and rough, thick with desire and frustration. “No fighting it.”

Before Y/N could even attempt to pull free, Dick lifted him off the ground with frightening ease, throwing him over his broad shoulder. The familiar feeling of being draped over Dick’s muscular frame sent a mix of anger, humiliation, and an involuntary thrill through Y/N’s body. His legs dangled uselessly, and his vision tilted as he was carried down the hall like nothing more than a prize to be claimed.

“Sooner or later, this bond is going to take,” Dick murmured, his voice a mix of satisfaction and lingering frustration. “And once it does, you’ll finally be mine.”

The sessions were grueling. Each attempt at conceiving and bonding left Y/N’s body sore and leaking with slick and cum. But despite Dick’s persistence, Y/N’s body continued to reject the bond. The psychological strain, however, was beginning to show. Every time a bite faded and every time knotting knotting that failed in resulting in pregnancy, the Alpha’s frustration became more evident.

“You promised me,” Dick murmured darkly one night, his sweaty, muscular body pressed against the Omega's as his hand possessively stroked his abdomen. “We’ll have a family. I’ll find a way to make it happen.”

Y/N’s only response was a silent, simmering hatred masked behind feigned exhaustion.

Sensing Dick’s growing frustration, the Wayne family attempted to step in. Concerned by the mounting tension, Bruce called the doctor once more, seeking answers to Y/N’s continued resistance. The doctor’s explanation remained unchanged: Y/N’s body was actively rejecting both the bond and Dick’s sperm, a direct result of severe psychological trauma that had created a physiological barrier. It was a rare but documented occurrence, particularly among male Omegas, who were not only the most vulnerable in societal dynamics but also among the most coveted and frequently subjected to forced bonding attempts.

The news struck Dick hard. His confidence, usually unwavering, began to crack. Y/N, however, saw it as an opportunity. The more desperate Dick became, the more vulnerable his family’s control grew.

Despite the emotional toll of Dick’s rut, Y/N continued his secret alliance-building at Wayne Enterprises. His interactions with Wyndall became more strategic, filled with coded messages and clandestine planning. The growing network of Omegas—many of whom were eager to support Shadow—provided a sense of hope, albeit a fragile one.

Y/N’s initial assessment of the Bat-Family, made during his first few weeks at Wayne Manor, had been thorough but cautious. He’d known from the start that escaping would require understanding not just the physical layout of the manor, but also the dynamics and individual traits of its inhabitants. The Waynes weren’t merely skilled fighters; they were highly trained vigilantes, each with a distinct approach to strategy and conflict. It made them formidable as a unit—and unpredictable as individuals.

Despite the varying levels of threat each member posed, Y/N had found ways to navigate their behaviors and interactions. It wasn’t about defeating them outright; it was about identifying who could be manipulated, distracted, or potentially turned against one another.

Damian, for example, was observant but impulsive. His youthful arrogance and quick temper often led him to act before thinking, making him a potential loose cannon. Y/N knew that if it came down to it, he could exploit Damian’s need for validation and his rash tendencies, possibly leading the youngest Wayne into a trap of his own making.

Tim, on the other hand, was far more methodical. The former Red Robin had an analytical mind and an impressive ability to piece together puzzles, making him a significant threat to Y/N’s plans. Y/N would need to be especially cautious around him, careful not to leave any traceable patterns or inconsistencies that Tim could latch onto. Tim’s tendency to overthink was both a strength and a weakness, and Y/N planned to use that to his advantage—feeding him conflicting information that would hopefully slow down any investigations.

Jason, meanwhile, presented a different kind of risk. Unlike his brothers, Jason was less interested in subtlety and more inclined toward direct confrontation. His approach was aggressive, even ruthless, which could be both an advantage and a danger to Y/N. If Y/N could find a way to manipulate Jason’s anger—perhaps by playing into his ongoing tensions with Bruce—he could turn Red Hood’s unpredictable nature into a useful diversion. But it was a risky move, one that would have to be executed perfectly to avoid immediate, violent repercussions.

Bruce himself was a more complex adversary. As both Batman and the head of the Wayne family, he was the lynchpin of their entire operation. Bruce’s reputation as the world’s greatest detective wasn’t merely a title; it was a proven reality. He had an uncanny ability to see through deceptions and understand the motivations of those around him. However, Y/N had noticed one critical factor: Bruce’s loyalty to his sons often clouded his judgment. Y/N realized that Bruce’s greatest weakness was his desire to maintain the family’s unity and ensure his children’s happiness, particularly Dick’s. This vulnerability could be exploited—albeit carefully. It was likely the only reason Bruce had agreed to allow Y/N to return to Wayne Enterprises and to have some semblance of freedom.

Despite Bruce's reputation as the ultimate tactician and the "World's Greatest Detective," Y/N’s real adversary wasn’t the Batman. It was the unassuming figure who, for decades, had stood silently at Bruce’s side, managing the household and, in many ways, the family itself: Alfred Pennyworth.

Alfred was a master of observation, capable of picking up on even the smallest discrepancies in behavior or routine. Y/N had quickly realized that the butler’s quiet presence wasn’t merely a sign of deference; it was a strategic position that allowed him to monitor every aspect of the manor and its inhabitants. Where Bruce’s vigilance was focused outward, constantly searching for threats to Gotham, Alfred’s was internal, designed to maintain control over the household’s dynamics and detect any signs of rebellion or dissent.

Still, Alfred’s vigilance remained a constant threat. The butler’s piercing gaze and unyielding loyalty to the Waynes forced Y/N to tread carefully. Every move, every interaction was carefully calculated to avoid arousing Alfred’s suspicions.

Though, during one late-night conversation, Alfred confronted Y/N directly. “You’re a clever one, aren’t you, Master Y/N? I imagine you’ve considered all the possible outcomes of your situation.”

Y/N met his gaze evenly, refusing to flinch. “I’m just trying to make the best of what I have, Alfred. Isn’t that what we all do?”

The butler’s expression was unreadable, but his words were clear. “Just remember, some battles are won not with cunning, but with endurance. This family is not easily bested.”

If the Bat-Family were a fortress, Alfred was its foundation—unshakable, impenetrable, and always aware.

Y/N had been somewhat prepared for the challenges presented by the Waynes. He’d expected Bruce’s overprotectiveness, Dick’s possessiveness, and even Damian’s unpredictability. What he hadn’t fully anticipated was the sheer extent of Alfred’s influence. The butler wasn’t just a servant; he was the glue that held the family together, the one who managed both their personal lives and their vigilante endeavors with meticulous precision.

It didn’t take long for Y/N to realize that if anyone could see through his carefully constructed facade, it was Alfred.

The butler’s scrutiny was constant, though never overt. He never interrogated Y/N directly, nor did he engage in overt displays of power. Instead, Alfred’s approach was subtle—an innocuous question here, a knowing glance there. It was as if the butler had a sixth sense for deception, able to detect the faintest hint of dishonesty in the air.

Alfred’s presence was pervasive, almost omnipresent. No matter where Y/N was in the manor, Alfred always seemed to be nearby—whether it was delivering a well-timed cup of tea, silently observing from a doorway, or appearing suddenly to provide a neatly folded towel when Y/N returned from a shower. Y/N had once joked to himself that Alfred could probably hear a pin drop from three floors away.

He wasn’t wrong.

It was the incident with the break-in that solidified Alfred’s position as Y/N’s most formidable opponent. Y/N had been in his room, scribbling notes in a coded shorthand he’d developed to document the mansion’s security layout and defenses. The sound of shattering glass downstairs had immediately put him on edge. He was about to investigate when his designated phone rang, Alfred’s voice calm and authoritative on the other end.

“Master Y/N, please remain in your room and lock the door. Master Dick insists.”

Y/N had considered ignoring the instruction, but his curiosity got the better of him. He made his way downstairs, staying low and quiet, only to witness Alfred dispatching one of the intruders with surprising efficiency. The old man’s movements were precise and practiced, each strike deliberate and effective. The sight was both impressive and unnerving, a stark reminder that Alfred wasn’t merely a caretaker—he was a trained operative, one who had likely seen and done far more than most of Gotham’s criminals.

But the true revelation came when Y/N spotted the second intruder sneaking up behind him. Before the guy could strike, Alfred was there, intercepting the attacker with a level of skill that bordered on lethal. The quick takedown was both brutal and controlled, a clear demonstration of the butler’s combat prowess.

It was at that moment that Y/N understood the full extent of Alfred’s capabilities. The butler wasn’t just aware of Y/N’s movements—he was actively countering them, anticipating potential threats before they could fully manifest. If Y/N was going to succeed in his escape, he would need to be more cunning than ever before. Alfred would be the one who could unravel his plans before they even began, the silent force that could keep Y/N trapped indefinitely.

“So...Alfred is the real boss around here,” Y/N muttered to himself one night, staring up at the ceiling in the darkness of his room. It wasn’t an exaggeration. The butler was the linchpin, the one person Y/N would have to outmaneuver to gain his freedom.

As Y/N continued to build his network of allies at Wayne Enterprises, he remained hyper-aware of Alfred’s constant surveillance. Each interaction, every coded message to Wyndall or whispered conversation with a trusted colleague, had to be meticulously planned and executed. There was no room for error. One misstep, one poorly timed message, and Alfred would undoubtedly be there, ready to intervene.

The looming presence of the butler was both a challenge and a motivator. If Y/N could manage to deceive Alfred, he could deceive anyone. It was the ultimate test of his cunning and resolve—a psychological chess game where a single wrong move could cost him everything.

“Don’t think I’ve lost sight of your true intentions, Master Y/N,” Alfred said one morning, catching Y/N’s gaze in a moment of startling clarity.

Y/N’s heart raced, but he managed a small, defiant smile. “You’d be a fool to think I’m not planning something, Alfred.”

The butler’s eyes narrowed, but there was a hint of respect behind the suspicion. “Just remember, Master Y/N—escaping may not be the hardest part. Surviving the aftermath will be.”

He would escape and he would survive. Alfred Pennyworth might be the final boss, but Y/N was prepared to play the long game—one calculated move at a time.

This story concludes on Archive of Our Own...

☀️ | Dick Grayson/Nightwing | ☀️

☀️ | Masterlists | ☀️

🌗 | Nightwing & Shadow | 🌗 (this image was generated by Bing AI)

[yurinaa-world]

“𝒴𝑜𝓊’𝓇𝑒 𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓁𝓁𝓎 𝒸𝓊𝓉𝑒 𝒶𝓈 𝒶 𝓀𝒾𝒹!”

💫𝒞𝒽𝒶𝓇𝒶𝒸𝓉𝑒𝓇𝓈: Jiaoqiu, Moze, Aventurine, & Sunday x Gender-Neutral reader

💫𝒮𝓎𝓃𝑜𝓅𝓈𝒾𝓈: he's turned into a kid?

💫𝒲𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈: Fluff, & Spelling Mistakes

💫𝒥𝒾𝒶𝑜𝓆𝒾𝓊 "𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝐻𝑒𝒶𝓁𝑒𝓇 𝒻𝓇𝑜𝓂 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒳𝒾𝒶𝓃𝓏𝒽𝑜𝓊 𝒴𝒶𝑜𝓆𝒾𝓃𝑔"

“Jiaoqiu, that's enough sweets for you.”

You're worried, truly. Jiaoqiu has this insane sweet tooth, at this rate, when he turns back into an adult his teeth will be black, sore, and full of cavities by then and of course, you’ll be to blame for being unable to resist his cuteness.

His tail sinks and his ears frown down whilst he sits on the stool with his head down in sadness while you lecture him about his health and give him restrictions. Child Jiaoqiu doesn’t know better at all, refusing to talk or do anything after this revelation came out. (he burns his mouth as an adult & numbs his moth as a kid, how ironic)

He thinks you’re just a jerk, ruining his fun and not having any kind of love for him left so he returns you the same attitude (even though you're doing it for his sake). Huffing while putting the candy on a tall cabinet. “Come on, Let's go get dinner.” you offered, after a sigh left your lips at the grimace look he had on yet even with this offer he refused, snapping his head to the side and not even looking back. 

“I’m not going, not unless you give me my candy back.”

Well, you can see his eyes shifting to the side, seeing if you cared enough to listen to his little demands of wanting Cavities and landing himself in a Yaoqing local dentist's office because of your weakness for his pleads. BUT, not this time, no way are you letting him have his way.

“Jiaoqiu,” you mumbled his name as you walked over to him, your tall figure looming over him, casting a shadow which even caused him to be frightened. Staring back up with doe eyes before shutting them the instant you raised your hand.

“Stop it!” he wined, feeling your finger gently pinch and pull at his ear in discipline, while you grinned down at him before your other hand went to touch his stomach which caused him to jerk back a little. 

“You better be grateful that I love you so much or else I would have let you riot your stomach away with those sweets.”

💫𝑀𝑜𝓏𝑒 “𝒮𝒽𝒶𝒹𝑜𝓌 𝒢𝓊𝒶𝓇𝒹 𝑜𝒻 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒳𝒾𝒶𝓃𝓏𝒽𝑜𝓊 𝒴𝒶𝑜𝓆𝒾𝓃𝑔”

He looked so cute! His little form hiding in the corner while glaring at you with such weary, that you might just shatter from it. He looked so cute as a kid! But Moze turning into a little kid wasn’t what you expected but here you are, sitting a bit far from the corner, and refusing to leave him.

His one arm had bandages on it, several bandaids everywhere, along with cloth taped onto his cheek. A sad appearance that an ordinary child shouldn’t have but it’s Moze and you already have an idea of what kind of life he’s lived.

Smiling at him every time he moves his head up to look up at you, which causes him to just glare and lay his face back onto the knees he’s brought close to his chest.

“Your smile makes you look stupid,” he mumbled the sound of his voice slightly muffled by his knees.

Wow…you can’t help but be left speechless by his words, Moze had never once insulted you—in his words, he would rather die than do something like that. Yet with this predicament he’s in, you’ll let it go (and his cute face).

“Does it make me seem less threatening to you?”

“Don’t think I’ve let my guard down, it’s always the idiots that are most threatening.” He begins going on a rant, you’re not even sure what he’s going on about but it’s just like any other kid with a hyper fixation on things, and he’s prepared to scare you on everything.

“It’s known that you should never suck the poison out of a wound with your mouth….”

It just gives you an opening to get closer to him.

Like a snake in the bushes, you get close enough to the corner, trapping him there. He let his guard down! Clenching his teeth waiting for your next action and thinking how he’ll counter it if he could.

“You're so cute, Moze!” You gush, wrapping your arms around his neck while rubbing your cheek against his and giving him loving kisses all over his face. He’s in complete shock, eyes wide with his mouth agape while his body freezes at your actions.

“I could just take you away!”

your approach is odd...It must be love bombing! people like you don’t exist and like a fool stated your reason! Wait you’re taking it a bit too far! Stop smothering his face with kisses!

💫𝒜𝓋𝑒𝓃𝓉𝓊𝓇𝒾𝓃𝑒 "𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝒮𝑒𝓃𝒾𝑜𝓇 𝑀𝒶𝓃𝒶𝑔𝑒𝓇 𝑜𝒻 𝐼𝒫𝒞 𝒮𝓉𝓇𝒶𝓉𝑒𝑔𝒾𝒸 𝐼𝓃𝓋𝑒𝓈𝓉𝓂𝑒𝓃𝓉 𝒟𝑒𝓅𝒶𝓇𝓉𝓂𝑒𝓃𝓉”

“It’s so cold.”

He was adorable, his beautiful eyes had so much life to them, cute face, he wore rags for clothes while hugging his shivering body to keep himself warm in some way, which broke your heart.

 “Is it cold? wait for a second!” You immediately run to get a blanket to warm him up with, wrapping it around him and making sure no air gets in. Watching him still shiver in the blanket, it would take time for him to even warm up in the first place, Yet you hear his sniffles and slight whines.

Which causes you to do the only thing you can.

Firmly holding Aventurine close to you, having him in your lap, you hugged him very close as if he would slip away. Taking your hand and touching his smaller ones, the cold flesh made you shiver as well, like a shock when you first touched, both of your body temperatures clashed.

He enjoyed it while you shivered.

“Do you feel less cold now?” You smile at him, watching him hold your hand close to his body so he can feel the heat more.

“It feels so nice. Thank you.”

He smiled back at you, and your smile got wider, feeling the connection between the two of you. Watching his eyes quickly begin to droop, sleep taking him away while keeping him in your lap, and gently caressing his head.

“I’ll take care until you turn back, even if it takes forever.”

💫𝒮𝓊𝓃𝒹𝒶𝓎 "𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝐻𝑒𝒶𝒹 𝑜𝒻 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒪𝒶𝓀 𝐹𝒶𝓂𝒾𝓁𝓎"

Watching little Sunday gush over a simple picture book you had lying around, looking at it with stars in his eyes, and going “ah” or “oooh” while his wings flipped when tiny twists happened in the story. It's too cute! It's good that he took a day off but not when he was turned into a little kid! And it’s not like you can make him go to work like this, can you?

“On Friday he ate through five oranges, but he was still hungry.” he reads, a confused expression plaguing his face, while he takes in the words

“He eats so much? (Name), do you know why he eats so much?” 

His question might’ve just gone in one ear and out the other, watching his confused expression while his wings flapped, It’s too cute! 

Normal Sunday is always to control himself in every situation, never letting himself go in front of anyone else but you and his wings are a big part which causes him to restrain himself to the fullest extent.

The second he sees you staring at his wings for a tad bit longer than you should have, his cheeks turn a rosy pink color—feeling insecure about your gaze on him, his hands going to his wings, gently touching the feather while shifting his gaze to the side in pure embarrassment.

“Is there something wrong with my wings? Are they ugly?” He moped, which made you immediately reassure him. “Of course not! You're so adorable in every way!” you sputtered, trying your best to make him feel better, which made you calm down when his expression twisted into a gleeful expression.

“Really you think so?” he chirped, losing his attention from the book he was reading, it seemed like he wanted to hear more sugary compliments.

if you liked this, consider tipping me on ko-fi! it'd mean a lot!

[fallingdownhell]

My first smut ask.

Gorou, Itto and Tighnari through a rut and you aren't there.

You got me.. I am SO down bad for this... and I won't elaborate on that more than I already have.

Characters Included: Gorou; Tighnari; Itto

Content: gender neutral reader; posessiveness; talk about animalistic features; talk of breeding; talk of overstimulation; semi-public; not proof read yet!

Word count: 1,6k words

Please tell me if I forgot to mention anything Content-wise!!

Minors do NOT interact!

Gorou

Whiny as FUCK

Like, Gorou is already a pretty clingy lover, but even more so when his rut is just around the corner

he is attached to you by the hip, never leaving you out of his sight, unless he absolutely HAS to. And even then, he makes it a point to return to your side as soon as the issue is taken care of

you know his rut is coming around when he starts acting like this, like you would disappear if he didn't keep a watchful eye on you

during this "Pre-rut" he growls at any other man that dares come close to you

he pulls you more into him, arms protectively around you as he growls and throws death glares at the other person

during his rut, he's not able to leave you alone for more than a minute. He is whiny as fuck, always demanding your attention to be on him. He always has to touch you

Normally, the sex with Gorou is pretty tame, he himself being a switch outside of his rut, but leaning more to the submissive side

during rut however, you can never find a way to overpower him. He pushes you down against the mattress, pushing his cock into you. He can't waist another second without feeling you spasming around him

He knows he should prepare you more for it, but he just can't be bothered

Now, you left Watatsumi Island two weeks ago for a mission. It was only supposed to last a few days, but some unforseen complications arose and you had to extend your leave, and an end was not in sight yet

a few day ago, Gorou has entered his rut and he is desperate

He is rutting his cock against your pillow, his head burried in your favourite blanket to get a smell of you

He whines and moans so loudly, not caring that the people outside his tent can hear him

He calls your name over and over again

He's lost count on how many times he came already, but it's never enough. Rutting against your pillow just didn't hold up to the feeling of your hole clenching around him, knotting you so that not a drop of his cum would be wasted

he reaches down to stroke his dick at the thought of this, wailing as he came yet another time, but his cock didn't grow soft. So, he put his cock on the mattress, placing the pillow above it and started thrusting like this, imagining that it was you laying underneath him

he hated how he was so desperate for you, how he kept calling your name and begging for you to finally come back to him so he can breed you. Yet his prayers were left unanswered and he was forced to continue this madness..

Archons, he swore he would make your legs shake and quiver from overstimulation once you came back to him...

Tighnari

He's a bit more composed and level-headed than Gorou is

After all, Tighnari is mated to you, so there was no reason for him to follow you around everywhere and fend of other people. He knows you're just as committed to him as he is to you

And yet, when the time for his rut comes around, all those thoughts and reason are thrown out the window

When this time comes around, he grows restless, more snappy than ususal and far more sarcastic. He also has a pretty hard time concentrating on stuff, since he's very easily overstimulated right now

he keeps smelling you everywhere, he is hyperaware of his surroundings and his ears pick up on every little sound

You know his rut is right around the corner when he starts nesting

Since you're no hybrid like him, you don't have these kinds of instincts. He does, although they aren't ususally this strong. But he thinks he has to make up for this, so he takes over the nesting part, filling up the bed equally with shirts and pillows both used by him and you.

because as much as he wants to be surrounded by your scent while he fucks you, he wants you to have the same experience with his scent

normally, Tighnari is a dominant lover in bed, yet he's still gentle with you, worshipping you and giving you the pleasure you deserve before he thinks about his own desires

however, when in rut, he has no controll over his urges. He just takes you every way he desires

100% bites you, everywhere he gets the chance to, but prefers to bite down on your neck, especially when he comes deep inside of you

during his rut, he has moments of clarity, where he takes care of you, feeding you and making you drink water, before his instincts take hold of him again and he begins ravishing you again

this rut however, you're not here. A family emergency came up and you had to travel back to Mondstadt to help out your parents. And while you stayed in contact with Tighnari via letters, it wasn't enough for him to get him through his rut

he required your physical presence to feel better, it was driving him and his brain crazy that you were not here, in his arms, where you belong

on top of that, this rut seemed to be especially bad, his instincts going more haywire than they normally do

yet, he can do nothing else than to grind his cock into his hands, the tight grip he has on himself trying to mimic the feeling of your hole when he's inside you

his knot swells at the thought, but only when he's about to come does he loosen his grip on his dick so that his knot is now also surrounded by his hands

he imagines how you would moan and scratch his back like you usually do when he knots you, pumping you full of his cum

that image is what drives him over the edge finally, but the feeling of satisfaction doesn't settle, like all the times before

he whines, feeling desperate, starting to beg the empty space of his hut that please, please, please, make you appear in front of him magically so he can fuck you

but for now.. he just has to figure out a way to survive this horror of a rut without you...

Itto

Itto, just like Gorou, is attached to you by the hip

he is never seen without you around, and you can never be seen without him following you around like a lost puppy

It's cute most of the time, but it can also get annoying, especially in times where you just need a break but he keeps following you around, trying to hide around corners or behind bushes, failing to notice that he is still perfectly visible to everyone around, especially you

Pre-rut Itto would also be more whiny, but he also grows very sensitive to what you say

you mention something you like? He's already on his way to get it!

You say something about him that he has taken in a negative way? He gets big puppy eyes and asks you if you're sick of him and if you don't love him anymore

It can get annoying, but it's also really adorable since he's just so desperate to make you happy, no matter what way

at some point, you started to wonder if that behaviour before his rut starts may be some kind of compensation for how he acts DURING them

because, without exaggeration, Itto becomes so selfish during that time

he doesn't waste too much time preparing you, even though his cock is huge and it always hurt when he puts it in, no matter how long he prepares you beforehand

his thrusts are also relentless, the only goal in his mind being his release. He does hit your good points, but that more or less happens on accident thanks to his size once again

He is so vocal, too. Screams and moans without care on who might hear the two of you, he really can't be bothered

He tries to stimulate you as well, but he just feels so good, thrusting his thick cock inside of you, that he forgets to move his hand. You have to grind your hips against him to get the stimulation you need to also be pushed over the edge

He always apologizes for his behaviour profusely after his rut is over, but it happens again every time after that

however, as Itto has started his rut yesterday, you were no where to be seen with him

A friend of yours invited you out on a vacation. You both have misscalculated the time his rut would arrive, thinking you would make it back before then, you agreed to the trip

so, here he was now, having to deal with this alone for the first time since he has met you, and he wasn't happy about it

Itto pumped his cock in frustration, moaning your name loudly, his eyes closed as he imagined you, above him, riding his cock like you needed it to survive

the mental image was amazing, but it just doesn't come close to having you actually on him

another grunt came out as he thrusted his hips upwards, pickung up the pace of his hand

he focused on his memories, recalling how it felt to be inside you, how your hole always struggles to take him fully, yet you always clamp down on him so nicely

He comes for the nth time in his hand, pumping himself through his climax and for the hundreth time now he moans your name and wishes you would be here with him...

[eyeritestuff]

Billy Kid x Reader Headcanons ☆

��X—

A/N: super into ZZZ right now (and billy.)

CW: nothing, maybe a few suggestive jokes but everything is generally SFW :3 i’m super sleepy and writing this at 1am so bare with me when it comes to spelling and grammar :’)

Reader: Gender Neutral [they/them]

—X—

Billy takes a lot of selfies, especially when on missions, and sends them to you. You don’t know what made him start doing this, but you save each and every one of them and you make sure to drop whatever you’re doing to ask him about it.

Billy is on the spectrum. Don’t ask me the logistics of it, yes he’s sophisticated AI, but hear me out! Though you like to indulge in some childhood nostalgia, you aren’t particularly fixated on watching just one media from your childhood. However, one of the medias you watched back in the day is called Starlight Knight. As soon as you told him you enjoyed that show, he would come to you to talk about it. It wasn’t all the time, of course, but whenever conservation went dry (in person or via DMs), he’d make it a thing to talk to you about it for hours. It didn’t annoy you, not in the slightest. It made you happy to see him so happy about the children’s show, and so you entertained it as much as you could.

When Billy texts, he uses old fashioned emoticons as punctuation. Think ‘ :3 , ^_^ , o_O ’ and then replace it everywhere a period, an exclamation point, or a question mark would be. So many emoticons…

Billy loves to play video games, especially at the arcade. He invites you, and usually you tag along. When you can’t, he sends a selfie of him making a sad face. He’d probably captions it something like ‘Missing my pookie.. 💔💔’

On that same note, Billy will pick up on vocabulary you use and steal it. So if you have a habit of saying ‘pookie’ ? That’s his now. He’s using it all the time.

Billy panics easy when it comes to you. not only when it comes to safety, but also when it comes to romantic scenarios. During times you hang out with Anby and Nicole, they spill all the details of how Billy went on a rampage to find the perfect flowers, or how Billy sat in a corner all morning whining about how he didn’t find the right color outfit for you. Things along those lines!

Sortve related, but Billy gets flustered easily. Especially when you make dirty jokes, most of which aren’t really directed at him. He doesn’t get the jokes at first, but when he does understand them, he reacts in such an over the top and dramatic manner. Flailing around, gasping really loud, whining, yknow the works! One time you made a joke about ‘whimpering audios’ and he didn’t understand it. For a while too! Once he asked enough people (Anby explained it to him), he went silent and locked himself in his room for a considerable amount of time. He wasn’t sad or anything, just… shocked.

Billy isn’t human, so he doesn’t necessarily get injured in the traditional sense. One time he came back from a commission with his arm all battered up. You never seen him so down in spirits! You were able to help him, luckily, because it was only one part on his arm that was damaged that really messed up the rest of it. You kissed his hand, and immediately after inspecting your handiwork, he stuck his hand out again. “I dunno.. my arm still feels wonky. How about another kiss for good measure?”

When you’re bored, you love to dress up as Billy. Well, you’re not really dressing like him, you’re just wearing his jacket. You also like to wear the jacket with certain outfits you think it would look best with. Since your boyfriend is so tall and broad in the arms, you mostly wore it as a shoulder drape in an odd anime fashion statement. Regardless, Billy loved to see you wear it.

Earlier I mentioned Billy loves to take selfies, but I forgot to mention how most of them include you, and despite having all of those selfies of himself, half of his camera roll is you. He likes to sneak pictures of you sometimes! It’s one of his more odder behaviors, but he takes such cinematic pictures of you, even when you’re wearing the worst outfits. You didn’t know how he did it, but it’s one of the things that made the random picture taking somewhat okay.

Billy loves hugs. Don’t ask me how it works in terms of comfort. I would assume it’s the equivalent of sleeping in a car. However, Billy does have plenty of plushies thanks to you, and you use those to your advantage… so it’s not all bad :)

You asked Billy to teach you how to sling guns, and the entire tutorial sesh was just him feeling every inch of your body, memorizing and admiring how you looked. He loved you. All of you! He thought he was being sneaky, but you knew (and secretly loved it too).

Billy loves to carry you on his back and walk around. All I’m saying is, he’s got handlebars on that jacket for a reason… this has to be one of them……

Billy loves stickers. Self Explanatory!

Billy loves giving you gifts. He puts your needs over his more than he should, but luckily you’re not in this relationship to take advantage of his immaturity and inexperience. You give back as much as you can.

Billy is clingy. Needed to type it out despite it being loud as hell in this list.

Billy cant cook. Not like he needs to anyways, but he wants to learn for you! So when you’re cooking, he watches close behind you and asks you every question he can think of.

Billy likes to ask why… a lot. It gets frustrating sometimes, but he genuinely wants to learn.

—X—

A/N: thx for reading! idk might make a part 2 i’m gonna go fall asleep now :3

[luffysscraps]

Please I have baby fever! I NEED monster trio as dads headcanons. I blame Bluey for this. Thanks in advance 💕🤞🏾

Monster trio as fathers

Ft; Luffy, Zoro, Sanji

Cw; Fem reader. Nothing else just fluff.

•Luffy

Luffy gets you pregnant by accident. But he’s not worried about it at all, he’s really happy. “We’re having a baby?! That’s so cool!” He’s very excited to be a father but knows little to nothing about it.

You two have a baby girl. And he’s so happy! He doesn’t care much about the gender of the baby. He’ll love his child no matter what. The second she’s out of you and into his hands he holds her up for everyone to see. “Look! Look she’s here!” He shouts while joyful tears fall from his cheeks.

His little girl gets only the best from Luffy. He bathes her, feeds her and changes her all the time. He feeds her a little bit too much, and she has a never ending stomach like her father. She’s almost always hungry resulting in baby chub.

A giggly baby! This girl loves to laugh! She laughs more then anything else and with her jokester of a father she gets more then enough daily giggles. His stretchy skin makes for a great toy! He can pull on his face and make funny faces. Give her a finger to tug and listen to her laugh as it stretches. And even great to chew on. She kinda ends up thinking every human is like that though and tugs on people randomly. And she’s got a lot of strength for a baby (I mean look at who her dad is.) The force of her tug was enough to trip Zoro.

But once she’s old enough to start crawling and waddling, Luffy’s always active with her, chasing her, playing tag with her and playing with her. Her baby chub quickly melts away with him around. She’s so playful, always babbling and tugging on his leg to chase her and Luffy’s always up for the challenge. She has Luffy’s big wide eyes and looks like a carbon copy of her father.

These two are always talking, like always. Even when she literally can’t communicate beyond a few words and the rest is babbles. He will sit there and listen to her for hours on end and respond to everything she’s saying as if she’s actually speaking. He loves hearing her voice, whether it’s her managing to say ‘papa’ or her spitting her tongue out at him.

He takes her everywhere with him. He’s always holding her close to his chest while exploring new towns and villages. Everyone tells him not to bring her into dangerous places but he doesn’t listen. So to calm everyone’s nerves a little bit, Franky makes him a chest baby carrier that’s reinforced with armor. That only ends up making it worse though because now he thinks he can take her exploring with him. Like this man sees no problem in adventuring in a scary, dark forest where man eating predators are everywhere with a baby. He slingshots back to the ship with her in her carrier giggling against his chest and he feels proud of himself. Only for Nami to hit him and tell him how dangerous that was. The only situation he hands her off to you or someone else is when he’s about to engage in a tough battle. He’s confident in his skills and knows he can win but he’s not taking any chances of his sunshine getting hurt.

Given she looks just like her father, (and the fact he practically shoved her in Koby’s and Helmeppo’s faces when their fleet showed up to apprehend them) the navy knows the king of the pirates has a child. They’ve been trying to wipe you off the map for some time now and the same goes for your daughter despite her only being months old. No matter they’re not getting their hands on her. Luffy is serious when anything has to do with his daughter and if the marines think they can pull a fast one on him and kidnap his daughter, He sends their whole fleet to a watery grave. Even taking out every nearby marine base in the area to send a loud and clear message to the marines. ‘Don’t fuck with his daughter.’

When she’s around 5 the two somehow manage to get even closer then before. With her newfound ability to talk and make sense while doing it. They talk for HOURS. About food, games, books, the sky, fishing, everything. He tells her tales of his adventures and how her papa became pirate king. The two are best friends.

In all honesty he wants another one, maybe two, or three if you let him. She brings him back to when he was a kid and he wants her to have siblings like he did. But then he remembers an important lesson that he passes down to his daughter.

Luffy sits on the thousand Sunny’s figurehead. His daughter sitting besides him and wearing her straw hat that he had passed down to her. The little girl carrying the legacy of the king of the pirates without knowing it. They’re both silent but it’s a comfortable silence. He then looks over to her with a soft smile on his lips, bringing a finger up to her cheek and poking her. He laughs and brings her closer to him sitting her down on his lap. Some wisdom from the past remerges while he watches the sunset with his daughter. And suddenly he begins to speak. “Here’s a little secret sunshine, once you share a bottle of sake, you can become siblings with anyone.”

“Really? That’s all it takes?”

“Of course it does! Your papa would never lie to you! So when you find your long lost sibling. Rejoice with them over sake. Alright?”

“Alright papa!” Luffy smiles and looks at the setting sun wondering what the future held for the little girl who had the world in her palms.

•Zoro

“Run that by me again…?” Just like Luffy, Zoro gets you pregnant by accident. It’s not that he’s scared or anything, you’re the only woman he’d want to have a child with. But it’s just that he’s not prepared. It was something he wasn’t expecting.

The two of you have a baby boy. In all honesty that’s what he was hoping for. You swear while you’re recovering from giving birth you heard him give out a small cheer in triumph when Chopper announced the gender. ‘Did he think this was a challenge?!’ He’s attached the second he holds him. His son melts his heart when he grasps his giant finger with his tiny one.

Although he wasn’t prepared he’s surprisingly good with a child. He changes him, feeds him and bathes him. Bonding over the little moments like washing out his hair for the first time. You swear you saw tears but this man literally forced the tear back into his eye when you pointed it out.

His son is silent baby. He doesn’t cry, he doesn’t whine. He only lets out small babbles every now and again when he’s trying to get your attention. You ask Chopper if he’s okay and he’s perfectly healthy. He just doesn’t show a lot of emotion. You can get him to laugh, giggle and smile if you try but on the day to day he is totally silent.

When Zoro has to watch him, he trains with him on top of him. Using his son as a little extra weight. It’s kinda adorable actually. He’s lifting up tons of weight above his head while the baby boy is sucking his thumb in the sling around his chest. He’s acting so tough while doing dead lifts. And every time he comes back down he gives his son a little forehead kiss.

When he begins crawling and waddling Zoro is determined to get him walking. He’s literally the best baby coach, always hyping his son up for the littlest things. “ ‘Atta boy!” “That’s my son!” “Did anyone else see that?! That’s my kid! He came from me!” Like- calm down he just clapped his hands. He supports his son in every little thing and helps him walk for the first time. Again he sucks up his tears and pretends he’s not crying. He’s so proud of the little guy.

He mostly hands him off to you when you guys are on a new island. He knows his son is safe with you, and with you carrying the baby he can protect both of you at the same time. Plus he’s known to get lost and one of his worse fears is getting lost with his child. If he’s lost by himself as least he knows you two are both safe. If he got lost with his child he’d be paranoid for his child’s safety. He knows he can protect him from any physical harm but he can’t use three sword style with him near. Plus he’d have to make sure he’s hydrated, and well fed, and it’s just a lot of stress on him. It’s better if you have him and stick in groups when exploring.

When he’s finally starting to walk on his own Zoro buys him a small wooden toy sword. And just like his father he’s skilled with a sword. He loves it a lot, he likes to swing it on anything and everything. He often knocks anyone who walks past him on their legs and his favorite victim is Sanji. And Zoro’s just like “Yes, Yes hit him!” You apologize daily to Sanji when you find your son has been beating him up all day. Your son is confused, Papa says yes and mama says no. So to please you both he hits Sanji when his father’s near and doesn’t when you’re nearby.

Once he’s 5 Zoro starts training his little boy. He’s not soft on him at all and respects him as a swordsmen. Although Zoro loved his teacher when he was younger he just had wished he had treated him like he was an equal instead of a child. So he instructs his son as if they are equal. Most think this would cause him to relent his father but your son has Roronoa genes and it just bonds him closer with his father.

Zoro’s sword clashes against the smaller sword as his son’s stance was getting tougher and harder to block. Nonetheless Zoro doesn’t let him win. He smacks the sword out of his hand and makes him yield. “That’s another win-“ Zoro goes to speak but he sees the slight tension in his son’s eyes and immediately bends down to the boy’s height. “What’s troubling ya kid?”

“I just don’t get it. I can defeat pirates twice my size, Marines, almost anyone, but I can’t beat you.” Zoro hears his son’s lament and it reminds him of a familiar feeling he had when he was younger. And before he can speak another word Zoro leans in and hugs him. “So? What does it matter. Maybe one day you’ll beat me, maybe one day you won’t. Maybe one day you’ll beat someone stronger than me… maybe you won’t. And that’s okay. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, and if you want to defeat me well it’ll take a lot longer and more practice.” Zoro picks up the green haired boy and holds him in his hands running a hand through his shaggy locks.

“Don’t pressure yourself. Just worry about what you can do today. Tomorrow will always exist.” Zoro says simply and that calms the five year old’s nerves. The male gives him a smile and ruffles his locks before going to leave the crow’s nest. “Alright now let’s find mama.”

•Sanji

Unlike everyone else, Sanji gets you pregnant because you two think you’re ready for a child. Keyword Is think. “Oh my love~ I’ve prepared the strawberries cream cheese and jalapeños you’ve request~!“ You don’t lift a finger during your pregnancy. Sanji does everything for you and forbids you to go exploring or fight during this time. For better or for worse you stay with the Sunny every time it docks. And Sanji prefers to stay with you every time but if he genuinely can’t and needs to help protect the crew he kisses you like it’s his last every single time.

You two have a baby girl and Sanji is ecstatic. He’s going overboard already, buying hundreds of outfits, toys and baby equipment. He bathes her, cleans her, feeds her and if he knew how Sanji would breath for her. You rarely get to see her and she’s YOUR baby. Like Sanji’s practically raising her all by himself. He does her hair, combing her long blonde locks back into two big pigtails. She looks just like her father, even having his ‘curly brows’.

She’s a shy baby. She’s a scaredy cat, and she cries easily. Sanji’s always there to help her feel better. He’s always there to rock her to sleep, and to play with her to stop her from crying. It takes a while for her to get settled with the crew as they all sorta scared her and made her tear up. But Zoro scared her the most for some odd reason. She starts screaming and crying whenever he enters the room and Sanji immediately gets pissed at him. “GET OUT OF HERE MOSS HEAD!” And your daughter is grateful her father’s there to protect her from that scary man.

He sits her down in a high chair nearby while he’s cooking. Making sure to keep her far away from any harm but close enough encase she falls out of the chair. She loves to sing and babble Melodies. She makes the perfect cooking partner. He listens to her sing while he works and hands off little cuts of food to her to taste. “Hmm this taste good?” He’d ask when he hands her a slice carrot. She babbles happily nodding her head while chewing on the carrot slice.

He’s a helicopter parent. He’s always making sure his baby girl is safe. He’s always checking that knifes are put away, and that she can’t play with anything dangerous. Hell he even bubble wraps some baby toys that are too sharp for his likings (calm down babe it’s a plastic fishing rod). He keeps her away from the railings, standing far back and holding her tightly so there’s no chance of her falling in. The worse thing that could possibly happen to him is if she ever gets hurt. Even small bumps or her falling down breaks his self esteem. “I’m a terrible father, how could I have let this happen.” He soothes her pain to the best of his ability but feels so, so terrible he let it happen.

He’s a picture dad. Whoever let this man get his hands on a camera made the biggest mistake of their lives because now they have to deal with him showing them baby pictures of her. Every single second of the day. “Oh! Oh here’s where she spit out her tongue at her food! And here’s her sleepy face! Isn’t she so adorable!” He gushes over her showing them pictures and taking up their life while his daughter is right there staring at them both. He takes pictures of every little moment and makes not just one scrap book, but multiple. On every island he makes sure to stock up on camera film because it’s most likely going to be gone by tomorrow.

Speaking of which when the Sunny is docked on a new island your daughter is with you at all times. Knowing Luffy’s attraction to danger and how he’s one of the strongest he often has to fight. He instructs you to run and hide in the safest place possible with your daughter if danger arises. He trusts you to protect her but when push comes to shove but he rather you both are safe while there’s danger around. And if you’re threatened, or worse. Your daughter is. Sanji will rip anyone who threatens his family apart and with no remorse. Even women. That’s how you know he’s serious.

When she’s 5 Sanji’s even closer with his little one. He buys her anything she asks for! It’s all worth it just to see her smile. (Nami never gives him allowance anymore since he spent millions of berry on a purebred horse rental for her). She’s the sweetest little girl around, and has a soft spot for animals. She wants to become a veterinarian even. And while Sanji knows little to nothing about animal care, he’s still his daughter’s biggest fan and supporter. But his world opened when he found his daughter we crying, he wondered why but then saw the dead squirrel in her palms. She must have snuck it back on the ship and kept it as a pet, but due to Sanji’s sheltering she didn’t know what was going on. He neglected to teach her about death, he thought such scary things and concepts could wait until she was older but it was clear he made a mistake.

“P-papa….” “Oh come here sweetheart…” Sanji engulfs her in a hug and pulls her into his lap while she cries into his chest. “I don’t know why he won’t wake up! I brought him food and water! B-but he hasn’t woken up in two days! I-I don’t know why but I feel sad! W-what’s wrong with Mr. Squirrel?” As his daughter cries and sniffles against him he doesn’t know where to start really. He stammers over his words before he starts. “Honey…Mr. Squirrel is dead…” “He stopped breathing and now he’s not here anymore. No one knows where you go when you die but he’s not with us anymore.”

“O-oh… well can he come back and say goodbye first?”

“I’m sorry sweetie but that’s not possible.”

“Oh well…. Can… can we die too? Is that gonna happen to you one day? And… mama? And me?”

“Yes sweetheart. Everyone dies. But it’s always at the right time, you’ll make memories you’ll never forget and when it’s time for your journey to end. It must meet its end.”

“I don’t want to die.”

“No one does. And if you could live forever I’d find a way for you too. But for now it’s something that happens to everyone and everything. There’s no need to be scared of it. It’s just apart of life. Don’t worry about it now my love, for now we can burry Mr. Squirrel and have a funeral at the next island. Would you like that my dear?”

The air is quite somber as the little girl processes what death is and that she can’t run away from it. Her tears come to a stop and suddenly she doesn’t feel that sad anymore now that she realizes it’s a part of life. “Mmhmm… I’d like that.” She whispers and Sanji smiles at her picking her up and exiting her bedroom. “Now let’s go find a shoebox to put him in until the next island.”

[zerun0]

Can you make a fanfic about spending time with Viktor in his greenhouse? 👉👈 Whether it will be more romantic or more spicy is your decision

"Ivy and Iron" — Viktor x Y/N (Gender-Neutral)

English is not my first language. Feel free to comment on any of my mistakes and i will update the post, also I more than happy to receive suggestions, and advice on how to improve my work. — !SFW! — Established relationship, Fluff, Flirting, Garden, kissing. — Word count: — 1,5k (Full uncut version on AO3)

The dome was alive... more alive than anyone had thought possible in a city like Zaun.

Viktor stood among the green area, just above him, fractured glass panes refracted sunlight into shimmering beams that danced across the greenery below. Nature had reclaimed this once-dead space, transforming the ruin into an oasis of color and vitality. Ivy wove intricate patterns along the cracks, mending the broken with threads of green. Flowering vines spilled over from high ledges, their blossoms in hues so vibrant they felt almost otherworldly. Beneath his feet, moss softened the worn stone path, and ferns swayed as if breathing. The air was warm, humid with the scent of earth and blossoms—a stark contrast to Zaun’s metallic chill and acrid fumes.

And in the center of it all was you.

Viktor’s kaleidoscopic eyes lingered on you as you knelt in the soil, gently tending a bed of seedlings. Your fingers moved with careful precision, coaxing life from the dirt with a tenderness that stirred something deep in him. You looked so at peace, surrounded by the vibrancy you had nurtured, your hands stained with earth, your lips curved in a small smile of satisfaction.

He hesitated at the edge of the clearing, his cane tapping lightly against the mossy stone. The sound drew your attention, and when you glanced up, your eyes brightened.

“Viktor,” — you greeted, rising to your feet. There was warmth in your voice, as though you were genuinely pleased to see him. — “You made it.”

He stood there gracefully, his cane tapping softly against the moss-covered stone. The sunlight streaming through the fractured glass dome above dappled his pale face, highlighting the faint glow of his enhancements. The plants had flourished far beyond what he had imagined. Yet, despite the brilliance of the paradise he’d created, it was you who held his attention.

“I could not stay away,” — he admitted, stepping closer. — “You care for this place with such devotion. I wished to see it through your eyes.”

Your lips quirked up in a soft smile. — “It’s your creation, Viktor. I’m just the gardener.”

“You are far more than that,” — he replied, his voice laced with quiet conviction. — “Without your hands, without your care, this place would be nothing compared to what it is now..."

You glanced around at the verdant space, the vibrant green leaves and radiant flowers whispering softly in the warm breeze. Birds flitted between the vines; insects hummed industriously over beds of herbs. Everywhere life teemed, and the air was thick with the scent of blooming flowers and fertile soil.

“It’s easy to care for something so full of potential,” — you said softly. — “But you’re the reason any of this exists in the first place. These plants wouldn’t have a chance in Zaun if it weren’t for you.”

A faint smile tugged at his lips, and for a moment, you thought you saw a flicker of amusement in his eyes. — “Perhaps.”

The two of you wandered deeper into the dome, your pace unhurried. As you walked, you pointed out the various plants you’d been tending—climbing vines heavy with blossoms, patches of herbs growing in carefully arranged beds, fruit trees that had begun to bear their first harvest. Viktor listened intently, his sharp mind absorbing your every word.

“These fruit trees were the most stubborn,” — you said with a small laugh, brushing your hand against the rough bark of one. — “I had to trim back so much of the dead wood to give the new growth a chance. But once they took root, they grew faster than I expected.”

“You understand their needs well,” — Viktor said, studying the branches laden with ripe fruit. His colorful eyes lingered on your hands as you gently turned one of the leaves, inspecting its vibrant green color. — “Each decision you make, every care you offer, it shapes them. Guides them.”

“I’m just following what feels right,” — you replied, glancing over your shoulder at him. — “Plants are a lot like people, I think. They need support, patience... someone to believe in them.”

He tilted his head thoughtfully. — “It is not something I have considered before"

You smiled, your eyes softening. — “Sometimes all it takes is a little faith.”

Viktor walked beside you in silence for a moment, his cane tapping lightly against the mossy path. The quiet hum of life surrounded you. The garden felt alive in every sense of the word, and it struck him how starkly it contrasted with the barren ruins this dome had once been.

“Tell me,” — he said at last, his voice quiet but curious. — “what made you decide to take this on? When I showed you the empty space, it must have seemed... hopeless.” — He asked, he seemed to be testing you.

You paused, turning to face him. — “It wasn’t hopeless. Just waiting. Waiting for someone to give it a chance.” — Your gaze swept over the flourishing greenery, the vibrant flowers, the lush grass beneath your feet. — “When I first saw this place, I saw what it could become. I couldn’t just leave it as it was.”

Viktor’s lips curved into a faint smile, the corners of his mouth softening. — “It seems I chose well, then.”

You laughed lightly, shaking your head. — “You didn’t choose anything, Viktor. You built this space, and I volunteered. If anything, this garden chose me.”

“That,” — he said, stepping closer. — “is precisely what I mean.”

You blinked up at him, your breath catching slightly at the intensity of his gaze. The distance between you seemed to shrink, the space filled with the heady scent of blooming flowers and the gentle rustle of leaves. The air felt charged, as though the garden itself was holding its breath.

“This place thrives because of you,” — Viktor said, his glistening eyes fixed on yours. — “When I imagined this garden, I thought only of potential. Of how life might reclaim what was lost. But it is more than I could have envisioned because you saw not just what it could be, but what it should be"

Your heart skipped a beat at the quiet reverence in his tone. — “And you ... You gave it the chance to exist. Maybe... maybe we both brought it to life, together.”

He stepped even closer. You could see the subtle lines of strain around his eyes, the weight he carried in every step, but here, surrounded by the haven you’d built together, he seemed lighter somehow. — “Together,” — he repeated, the word rolling off his tongue with quiet certainty.

A breeze stirred the air. The moment felt suspended in time, the sounds of Zaun’s chaos beyond the dome fading into nothingness.

“You’ve been coming here more often,” you ventured, your voice gentle. — “Why?”

Viktor’s gaze dropped for a moment as though gathering his thoughts, his fingers tightening slightly around the head of his cane. When his kaleidoscopic eyes met yours again, there was a softness to them that made your chest ache. “Because,” — he began quietly, — “it is here that I feel closest to what I am searching for. Peace. Growth. Beauty.” He paused, his voice lowering. — “You.”

The words hit you like a quiet storm, their honesty stealing the breath from your lungs. The space between you felt heavy, charged with unspoken tension. The hum of the garden, the soft rustle of leaves, all of it blurred into the background as Viktor’s focus remained solely on you.

“You mean that?” — you asked, your voice barely audible.

“I do,” — he said without hesitation.

His words unraveled something in you, a tether you hadn’t realized was holding you back. Without thinking, you reached out, your hand finding his where it rested on the cane. His fingers curled around yours instinctively, the calluses of his palm a sharp contrast to the softness of your touch.

His hand came up slowly, brushing against your cheek, his thumb tracing the curve of your jaw with a tenderness that made your knees weak. You leaned into the touch, your heart thundering in your chest.

“I should not,” — he murmured, his voice trembling with restraint. — “But I cannot seem to stay away.”

For a moment, neither of you moved, the air between you thick with tension. Then in a blink of a eye, Viktor leaned in, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that was both hesitant and searing. His touch was searching, as though he was afraid you might slip away.

But you did the contrary, you melted into him, your hands finding their way to his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your palms. His cane fell to the ground with a soft thud, forgotten, as his arms wrapped around you, pulling you flush against him. The warmth of his body seeped into yours, and the world seemed to dissolve into the quiet intimacy of the moment.

When he pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, his breath ragged. His voice was a hoarse whisper. — “I have never felt this before.”

You brushed a strand of hair from his face. — “Then let’s not overthink it. Let’s just... be.” — Thank you for requesting it! Feel free to send more fic ideas !

[yuorumi]

─ when annoyances turn to comprehension

dr. ratio's vexation in being friends with a fool in love.

note. gender neutral reader & inspired by @/genshinarchives. be warned that I have not yet caught up with the quest so they might be a little ooc but if it works it works. unedited.

dr. ratio's just about had it with you.

no, you weren't one of ailing students who couldn't comprehend his brilliant and meticulous lectures on things many couldn't decipher heads or tails of unless they've had his guidance. and even then, the amount of students who would reluctantly approach him after class is a number far greater than he'd like for there to be.

you were not a coworker either, getting on his last nerves just as he was about to retire for the night and soak up a long needed bath (aeon knows just how much he's depending on that just to make it through the next day) and asking him questions that make him ponder why they were even a teacher at all.

no, dr. ratio's never even met you.

however, from the stories he's heard about you from the insane gambler, he's had just about enough information to write an entire encyclopedia about every single detail in your life and over. things like your usual routine, what you like for breakfast, what snacks you pick up from the store and the adorable habits you seem to have when you're just sitting around breathing.

for once, the luminous genius finds himself cursing his ability to remember things down to the last detail and growing overly concerned over the fact his eyes might actually roll to the back of his head from doing it so many times. the number of migraines you induce on him when he doesn't even know what you look like is a figure he doesn't bother to keep count of anymore.

ratio swears that when he's in the presence of the blond there's a guarantee he's going to hear your name from his lips at least thrice. anything and everything can remind aventurine of you, apparently.

they could be talking about chalk or the most complicated mathematics to mankind and he'd still hear your name.

"... fools I tell you! I've given everything they need to solve such a simple problem and they still can't even begin to comprehend it! "

"speaking of problems, I wonder if [name]'s managed to find a way to get their computer fixed yet..." cue yet another eye roll.

by now he's sure that you and aventurine had to be dating, there's just no other explanation for his infatuation and his need to bring your presence everywhere with him. but when he found out that you two weren't, he was left momentarily stumped.

"tell me, should I go this shade of green or this purple? "

"I don't know why you're asking me such a question when you already have a lover to answer them for you."

"... we aren't dating, doctor."

"... what? "

ratio's never been more confused in his entire life than in that moment.

and when aventurine finally has the gal to introduce you to him, he finds that perhaps the information he has about you stored somewhere within in vast brain might come in handy after all.

[yandere-kokeshi]

Saw an idea from @frogchiro and decided to write some feral content. Send her some love ❤

TW: yandere, monster fucking, werewolves, some crack/funny thoughts, talks about pregnancy/having pups (still gender-neutral), and knotting stuff.

Imagine TF-141 being yandere werewolf hybrids, falling for you all at once, each sharing their own yandere traits; which, causes all of them to be wherever you are. The need to scent you. Need you to be beside them at all times. And soon bring you home as theirs.

And now, you're their mate, sharing is needed — pack mates practically share everything, no?

Out of the four, Soap and Gaz are the absolute worst — they're feral, energized through the roof, and has to follow you around constantly; nudging into your crotch as they need to smell you. Smell your addictive scent that makes them all types of crazy, causing them to start nipping at your poor skin, growling at each other as the need for breeding comes along.

They both love to yap and bark at you, gently grasping your hand to guide you back to your bed (aka nest) so they can cuddle you (or stuff you full of their knot, their fluffy fur likely suffocating you.)

Though, you are often saved by Simon, and Price, whom are the biggest. They growl at them to watch it and gently bite their ears on scolding, snarling at them of needing to be more careful, and to not hurt you. You're their perfect mate!

Of course, Soap and Gaz make it up with sloppy kisses. And how can you not forgive them? Their obvious doggy eyes working perfectly.

Simon and Price are more so on the chiller side. Watching from afar, and demand cuddles that end up with their heads laying on your lap, the thumping of their tails on the chewed-up couch shows their appreciation when you finally decide to pay them attention.

But don't think they don't get possessive – because they do. More often or not, the hickeys and knots come from them. Though, they're regularly the nicest, rarely one to hurt you, and more aware of their size.

But, their breeding cycles are the fucking worse. Soap and Gaz are naturally horny, biting at your form as their tongue hangs out, but Simon and Price are a menace when in heat. Being more vocal, possessive, and often nipping at your ankles to not stray too far.

Regularly dragging you by the scruff of your clothes where the two of you can mate, spending their heat in peace. Making sure that you can see Price flexing his burly muscles, wanting you to admire their wagging fluffy tails, and showing off how thick, glossy Simon's fur is, and how both of them. All of them, really, can provide you with pleasant things, including a healthy litter of pups.

Despite them being pack mates, all of them are fighting on a regular basis — they all want to be the first one to breed, knot, and have you carry their pups.

When in their full werewolf forms, soap is more prone to chasing butterflies, and bringing you back half-alive birds, barking at you for his proud hunt – his mouth and chest covered in deepening blood.

Though, Gaz, and Price, actually bring actual gifts that are thoughtful — plopping full landscape roses in front of you, the roots still connected to the plant as their tail wag violently as they wait for your praise.

Simon, on the other hand, brings actual food. Like… steals a whole ass barbecued-chicken from someone's backyard, and nudges it closer to you as it's still warm.

Stares at you to eat it, his hazel eyes demanding for you to take it, but immediately snaps at Johnny, who only cackles back. He tries so hard to steal the items every time Simon gifts you something (he just wants a bite out of your food — sharing means caring!).

Everywhere on your body is marked by them, the harsh-but-yet healed maw-marked implanted into your skin. Their marks are typically licked, and kissed on by them.

Bring me some more ideas, please!! I fucking love these men who are feral for you — especially as werewolves 🤭

—

Here's my mw2 masterlist for more things <3