#it seems such a small thing and i didn't have this many issues with him before

[thetadispatcher]

Dan's interactions with humans had taught him that it was best to deal with the ones that challenged him swiftly, making it very clear to them that antagonizing him wasn't a very wise idea. He didn't enjoy it, but it proved to be better in the long run as it made the human more likely to cooperate instead of being purposely stubborn. He just didn't expect to have to use it at home, but he had learned there was a first time for everything so he wasn't too surprised.

Strasky shifted his attention from his counterpart to get a better look at the room, some of the walls were decorated with photos he recognized of his family with a noticeably younger Peter and Dan. Every photo included Dan, most were ones that you wouldn't expect the family android to be in. It seemed they took Dan with them on vacation, had him join in with holiday celebrations, and even celebrated the PL600's birthday or more likely the day he was activated. He noticed a few casual ones of Dan playing a video game with Peter, his mother happily helping Dan cook, and his dad showing Dan how to fix a car. Only one had Vincent and Peter was missing, meaning his parents were likely introducing their new android to their son.

Now he understood why Dan had stuck around, not once had he been mistreated as it seemed many androids were, and he'd been family since day one. So it only made sense he wouldn't want to leave his family, and instead chose to continue his role around the home. As well as why Peter might want to make the android virtually indestructible as it was clear Dan meant a lot to him, and the thought of loosing him was probably too much to bear.

Strasky was startled out of his thoughts by the android he'd seen with Dan back in the park, only now his white uniform had a rather dark blue stain on one of the arm. He was able to get a look at the androids uniform that let him know he was an RK900 as he brushed past. The RK900 headed over to Brent, who helped him out of the jacket and dress shirt, revealing his damaged arm that Brent quickly got to work repairing.

Peter glanced at the RK900, giving him an acknowledging nod which the android returned before he focused back on them. "Well, it's nice to meet you." He paused as Strasky was shown to him, cocking his head as a look of visible confusion crossed his face. He glanced at Dan who gave him a nod, confirming what they had said. "Oh, that's....interesting...." He was still a bit unsure as was evident by the look on his face as he looked over Strasky, but he didn't ask any questions as he likely wasn't sure if he wanted to know fully what was going on yet.

Peter moved to stand behind Dan, resting his chin on top of the PL600's head. He grabbed something off the desk, handing it to Dan to look over as he rested his arms over the android's shoulders. "What work did you have in mind?" He asked as Dan handed the object back to him and he stood back up. He grabbed a few tools nearby as Dan deactivated his skin, allowing the white and grey plating underneath to be seen. "If it's custom work that will take a bit longer, as you probably expected." He said with a shrug before he removed a plate from the back of Dan's head.

He plugged in a nearby computer to Dan's brain then typed in a command that made Dan's spine go perfectly straight and lock in place. "And yes, I have gotten better at working on brains. You don't have to worry about anything like my first attempt. Though I thought I'd done pretty good considering a bullet went through it. He works okay, more like a human then an android, but he's okay with it." He seemed to think they'd met the android he was talking about, but it was clear from his words the android was likely very odd when it came to things one would expect an android to be able to accomplish without issue.

He carefully reached into Dan's head, obviously unplugging something as Dan's limbs went limp. Peter picked up the small object Dan had handed back to him, inserting it into his brain before reconnecting whatever he'd unplugged. He snapped the plating back into place then turned to the computer to let him have control of his spine back as Dan reactivated his skin.

Strasky moved aside as another android entered the room, it looked just like Dan except he was wearing more normal clothes instead of his uniform. The other PL600 approached Brent who handed him the RK900's stained uniform then quickly left the room. Strasky watched him leave, which Peter picked up on.

"That was Daniel, no he wasn't one of ours. I just fixed him up, and like every android here, he decided to stick around. Not that I mind, feels like it would be mean to start kicking them out as androids are having a hard time finding places to live currently. And it's even harder for them to find places they feel safe in." He explained, feeling he should probably do that as many wondered why there was an over abundance of androids on the property.

"Oh, and this one is Nines." He turned to motion to the RK900 who waved to them with his good arm. "The one running around that looks similar to him is Sixty, an RK800, he's the one that took the bullet to the brain." Nines looked a little annoyed at the mention of Sixty, but still stayed silent.

"So what kind of unit needs work?" He asked curiously as he went back to resting against Dan, clearly just to irritate the android as he smirked when Dan let out an annoyed huff.

The android Bishop chose to ignore Dan and gave Vincent only a slight nod. Truth be told, he didn't know why Bishop specifically had made him snap like that. It wasn't the first time a stranger got close to Vincent, after all. He just knew not to trust someone with his face.

He watched Bishop follow the others after fixing his tie, still not liking the idea of the man being around, but not enough to ask him who the hell he was.

"Charming place." Rook said, eyeing the cells.

"The previous owner was known for its questionable work." Willow explained, "He will hardly be missed."

Willow's disdainful tone was telling of what she thought of Zlatko. So, Rook decided to keep her rest of her comments to herself in favor of having a look at the man of the hour.

Or rather the boy. Age wasn't something Bishop usually concerned himself with. Still, being faced with the perspective of another, younger Strasky was already causing him to grind his teeth in anticipation of the nonsense they'd certainly have to deal with.

"Yep, that's Strasky all right." Rook said, taking a step forward, "Hi, I’m Rook and this is Willow. We're here because we need someone who's good with androids to do some work for us. But before we get to that, there's someone you should meet."

Bishop proceeded to grab the back of Strasky's uniform and moved him into view. "Meet yourself."

[djarinova]

In shades of grey in candlelight / I wanted to leave him, I needed a reason

Spencer Reid x gn!reader content - reader is in an unfulfilling long term relationship, thoughts of cheating, best friend!Reid, friends to lovers, slight angst from reader longing to be loved properly again, cheating is slightly romanticised, confessions, teeny amount of angst words - 3k (how did this even happen omg) reputation event masterlist

♡—How long should you hold on to something after it's proven time and time again to be the source of your pain? And why does missing your best friend hurt so much more than missing your boyfriend?

It had been almost 4 weeks since you'd last spoken to Spencer—a mix of his work, the weekend he spent visiting his mother and the looming sense of… something… that had been hanging over your head like a dark cloud had kept the two of you apart for longer than usual.

Spencer would have been able to identify the issue that had been plaguing you, he's always been good at that—even before he'd joined the BAU.

He had been able to figure out that you'd failed a maths test when you were 12 years old. He had been able to tell when your parents had had a fight when you were 15 years old. He had been able to correctly work out that you'd ordered yourself the wrong flavour of milkshake—over the phone, without seeing your face—when you were 18 years old. And as you got older, your problems getting more and more adult, he had been able to figure out through missed calls and unanswered texts that you'd had your heart broken again. And again. And again.

That's what he would have said was the cause of your behaviour over the past few weeks—you've changed your hair, thrown out a bunch of old clothes, rearranged and then rearranged again almost all the rooms in your flat and you've been out drinking with your friends twice already this week (not that this is a particularly bad thing, or even entirely unlike you, but you mentioned to Spencer once that going to a bar or pub for a drink was only really fun when you were with him, and it had lit a spark deep within him that he refused to acknowledge). But this time you know he'd have gotten it wrong. You haven't broken up with anyone, you're still very much coupled up and there's no sign of your boyfriend wanting to dump you at all.

That's the problem.

You roll your eyes, there's no point in feeling sorry for myself. I'm the only one that can fix it.

You scoff. The faint smell of your neighbours baking wafts over you, and you can hear him and his boyfriend giggling through your shared wall. A lump in your throat begins to form, and the familiar sting behind your eyes returns as you busy your hands with tidying away the washing up (that you had accidentally washed three times now.) The tears that fall feel like they're burning your skin as they run down your cheeks, as though the droplets are going to leave small scalding streaks from your eyes to your chin.

A new wave of bitterness envelopes you and a strangled yell escapes your lips before you have the chance to think. You hear your neighbour's pause, likely raising their eyebrows at each other as if to say what the hell is wrong with next door before quickly returning to being the lovey-dovey super cutesy couple that they are. And they are. Super cutesy. You've seen them around the building before, even one time accidentally ending up in the same café after a building wide fire alarm went off. They invited you to sit with them—your boyfriend was with his mates—as they didn't want you left on your own so late at night. It was nice, awkward, sure, but nice. Conversation was easy, they seemed to bounce off of eachother in ways that you and your boyfriend never have—at least not for many years now. Their laughter was contagious and yet as you said your goodbyes and slunk back to your lonely apartment you couldn't help the twinges of envy that plagued the back of your mind.

He doesn't look at me like that. He is never that enthusiastic about dating me. He would never gush about our first date like that. (And deep down you know he could say the same things about you.)

So, yeah. That wasn't very fun to sit with.

You somehow feel happy knowing that Spencer would incorrectly guess the reason for your ongoing sadness. For some reason the thought of being unknowable to him has you frenzied… A strangled noise escapes your throat—a laugh! Christ. It was a laugh, despite how bitter and angry it sounded.

Maybe frenzied isn't the right word… But god! You don't know! At least he would actually care. At least he would want to try and get to the bottom of your feelings, to try and understand why you've been jumpy and on edge and almost hyperactive in the way you've been non stop moving recently.

Tap tap tap.

The noise makes you jump out of your skin, heart thumping in your chest as your eyes dart to the clock. It blinks back at you.

20:37

You chastise yourself, it's probably next door coming to ask if you could keep your yells of frustration down while they're having a relaxing evening. Embarrassment floods over your face and you can feel the tears threaten to fall again at the thought of being confronted about your outburst. You can imagine the look of pity on their faces—although a hidden part of you hopes that they're coming to invite you over, to welcome you into their warm home, to smell their freshly baked bread and taste the chocolate chip cookies.

Your feet pad heavily against the wooden floor as you walk out of the kitchen towards the front door—tap tap tap. A further set of knocks has you almost tripping over your feet as you rush the final few paces. You swing the door open without a thought, not wanting the neighbours to have to knock again.

You spare no thought to the tear stains that have marked your face…

“I'm so sorry I didn't mean to be—Spencer? Wha–what are you doing here?” You splutter.

“I tried calling, but you didn't answer. Have you been crying?”

“I—well, yes I have but it's fine—I didn't expect to see you, you've been so busy lately.” You take a deep breath, for a brief second—and it was brief—you had been relieved to find that it was only Spencer behind the door, but it didn't take long for the embarrassment to claw its way back up your spine and sink its teeth into your flesh once more.

His eyes bore into you as if he's trying to look inside you. He scans your face, your movements, he watches your hands fidget nervously with the hem of your shirt—before you notice him noticing you and you flatten your palms against your sides in an awkward, unnatural manner.

“May I come in?” He asks, his voice is gentle and it's almost enough to make you fall to the floor in despair.

A hum is all you can manage in response. You quickly side step out of his way, locking the door behind him as he removes his jacket and scarf and hangs then neatly on the third hook from the left—the one that's always left bare, just for him.

You clear your throat. “What are you doing here, Spence?”

He pauses mid stride—he’s already halfway to the kitchen and if you had known he was coming over then there would a cup of coffee on the side waiting for him, in his favourite burgundy mug, the one with a chip on the lip—and tilts his head at you as if to say isn't it obvious.

“I'm here to see you.” He states, incredibly matter of factly, as if the mere question coming from your lips is completely ridiculous. Why else would he be here?

“I—” You start, but Spencer disappears around the corner before you are able to get any more words out. You huff, feeling slightly unnerved by his sudden arrival and subsequent behaviour since setting foot on your doorstep. There is nothing else in the world that can make you as happy as he can. Something which both terrifies you, and excites you a great deal.

You step foot into the kitchen and you are unsurprised to find Spencer already in the process of making himself a coffee. He pauses once more when he catches sight of you and he holds a second mug out towards you in question. You shake your head. You don't think you'd be able to stomach anything until you can get him to speak to you properly.

A thought suddenly occurs to you, and it may be the first time you ever fully allow yourself to truly think it. Because although it's not unusual for Spencer to visit you in the evening, sometimes even coming over as late as 1 or 2 in the morning—he gets back from cases at the most unpredictable times—do people think you're seeing each other? The two of you have been friends for years, it's not weird for a friend to come over at all hours of the day… right?

“Spence, are you alright?” You pause, eyeing his very full cup of caffeine. “Haven't you just got back from a case? I can make up the sofa bed if you want to get some sleep.”

Heat rushes to your cheeks. Why do I feel so weird about asking him to stay over? We're friends. It's what friends do.

“I have something I need to talk to you about.” He ignores your questions, but you can't bring yourself to be annoyed at him. Not when his knuckles are white from how hard he grips the cup and his eyes flit from your hands to your eyes to your mouth and back to your hands.

Wait—your mouth?!

“I have something I need to talk to you about.” He repeats. He closes the gap between the two of you with only a couple of steps. His steaming coffee is still clutched in his hands, but his fingertips seem restless, as if he knows where he wants them to be, but he just can't—or won't—move them there.

“Okay.” You whisper.

Your mouth feels dry—maybe turning down Spencer’s offer for a coffee was a mistake… He's barely an arms length away from you now, if you were to reach your hand out towards him it would brush up against the navy cardigan he has on. It looks so soft and you can't help but wonder how it would feel around your shoulders. Would it be baggy? Would it fit perfectly? And would Spencer want to come back from a case to find you curled up on the sofa while wearing it?

Your neighbour’s laughter ripples through the air like thunder. It's gone before you have time to register the noise fully, but it's enough to snap you out of your trance and you tear your eyes away from Spencer's torso. It was as though he was waiting for you to make eye contact with him again, because he immediately puts his cup down on the side—more clumsily than usual, you'd be surprised if there wasn't an extra chip on the lip now—and takes the smallest of steps towards you. You are almost toe to toe now.

“I–uh��meant to ask you earlier… about your boyfriend.” He hesitates. “Presumably he's not around…”

There's two ways you could take his question.

Part of you wants to lie, to say that no, he's not around, you dumped him months ago—when your friends first told you that you should—and that you weren't expecting any company tonight. It would be just you and Spencer, no interruptions. Besides, Spencer knows that your boyfriend doesn't live with you, it's been the topic of many a heated discussion, but… could you just pretend you misunderstood? Could you say that no, he's not around, he's probably out with his friends somewhere. Could you admit that he hasn't texted you back in almost 4 days? Could you say he's not around, in fact, he hasn't been around you for 12 days?

But Spencer doesn't give you any time to think through what to say. You gasp when his hand touches your arm and he laces his fingers through yours without so much as a word, as if it was the most natural thing for him to do. As if he had done it a thousand times. The certainty with which he touched you has your heart pounding. What is he thinking? All you can do is blink up at him. His eyes are swimming with questions, but the only one he voices is, “Is this okay?”

Your head moves before you can think and he breathes a deep sigh of relief. You haven't felt as calm as this in months, and yet somehow it feels like you're suffocating. His touch is warm and the dusting of pink on his cheeks has you feeling a rush of anxiety—but the good kind, the kind of anxiety you get when your crush looks at you, the kind that comes hand in hand with a first kiss… And yet you know you need to pull away. Before something more happens.

You force yourself to pull your hand out of Spencer's and the emptiness returns immediately. You stumble away, bumping into the counter as you do so, and you utter a small yelp when your hip hits the corner. Tears sting your eyes and before you know it Spencer has his arms around you. Somehow knowing what you need before you are even able to think it. You choke out a broken apology—for what, you don't even know—and all Spencer can think to do is squeeze you against his chest, whispering soft comforts into your ear.

You stay like that for a while—long enough that the pain at your hip is now only a dull ache. Your throat is dry from all the heavy breathing and you feel a slight throbbing pain in your head, but you do, somehow, feel a little better.

That is until your emotionally fried brain catches up with itself. And then you cringe, hard. Embarrassment floods your veins and you feel your cheeks heat up by an alarming degree—like someone, somehow, is holding the sun directly against your skin. You are acutely aware of how closely Spencer is watching you, but you can't bring yourself to meet his eyes, unsure of whether there's a look of hurt, confusion or pity on his face—unsure of whether it matters—and all you can do is stare through your blurry eyes at what you think is your feet, but what could just as easily be a pair of furry, blue alien slippers.

You scold yourself. You fell apart all because he... held your hand? God. What a mess he must think you are. And��oh! How he probably thinks you are the worst person in the world for even entertaining the possibility of his feelings for you when you aren't even single. If he even thinks that what you did was entertaining the possibility. Or maybe you completely misread the situation and he was only trying to comfort you as a friend... But what if he thinks you have no interest in him? What if he thinks he's ruined your friendship and your relationship? What if you're reading into things far too much and he doesn't like you like that and he thinks you're a bad person for even thinking about kissing him–not that he would know that, he can't read your mind–and you've certainly never thought about kissing him before and especially not right now–he doesn't know how much you long for him to sweep your off your feet—

"I like you Spencer."

You blink. Slowly you bring your head up and meet his gaze. He takes a shallow breath, as if he had been holding it for quite some time.

Christ.

You only meant to think the words, and yet somehow they slipped past your tongue out into the space between the two of you. An accidental confession of something you hadn't even consciously thought until 0.2 seconds ago.

Well I can't take it back now.

He holds your gaze. His vision blurs ever so slightly and he blinks back his unshed tears before they get the chance to overwhelm him. He clears his throat before speaking, but even then his voice is low, quiet, as if trying not to spook an animal.

"You... do?"

You nod, and he takes another obvious sigh of relief, deeper this time.

"I do. I like you a lot actually."

It's as though hearing you voice your feelings for him has broken down the very last wall between the two of you. Your mind flits briefly to thoughts about your boyfriend, before shutting them down so violently that you almost feel sick. You taste metal in your mouth and you realise with a start that you'd bitten down so hard on your lip that you'd drawn blood. You reach for the closest available source to wash the bitter taste away—Spencer's coffee. And he watches as you take a sip, your eyes are closed but somehow he can sense that they are closer to shedding tears than his are. He reaches an arm towards you and gently begins to rub soothing circles on your waist. The touch sends an electric pulse throughout your entire body and you almost drop the mug in shock. It's like all at once you realise just how stupid you were for allowing yourself to be so miserable for all this time. Why have you been putting up with a boyfriend who barely touches you when one touch from Spencer has your insides burning? Why have you been putting up with a boyfriend who doesn't care about your feelings unless they are positively affecting him, when the first thing Spencer asked you tonight was if you had been crying?

For right now all you care about is the way Spencer's eyes glisten when they look at you, how warm his hands are when they touch your face and how the quiet laughter from your neighbours no longer makes you feel as lonely as it did before.

You felt like such a fool. But it seemed like realising this fact was enough to set you free. It seemed like the acknowledgement was enough. You didn't give any thought now to the things you would have to do this coming week—the breaking up, the collection of your things from his place (although at this point there is only a toothbrush and a single pair of joggers that haven't moved from their place on the back of his sofa since you washed them and left them there). Hell, even the possibility of having Spencer there with you hadn't crossed your mind.

[yuhi-san]

had a very sucky day. im not feeling great and like i might be heading towards some emotional crisis.

god i am so glad this dude sin't really a coworker of mine. i would habve a mental breakdown or straight up get a new job. hes not even an asshole, he is just so annoying and obnocious and somehow a smug bastard and a clown at the same time

[tinydefector]

Do you think cybertronians ever get a bit freaked out on how tough we are? Yes they can break us like toothpicks but humans seem to be able to take a good beating as well with adrenaline helping. Even our own body and oxygen trys kills us and yet we stick around like roaches. We're fragile in some reasonable and dumb ways and then resilient in the most dumbest ways.

Oh definitely, alot of the bots are very off put by how fragile humans are just in general and tend to avoid them.

But then there's the moments like Ratchet working a late shift and a small knock on the door alerts him someone's there, he turns around expecting it to be Rodimus or Whirl who he's about to scold but instead it's one of the humans and they look worse for wear. After fussing over them for a moment, detailed scans relay fractured ribs, a broken collar bone, and a heap of bruises and yet the humans just like. "Can I have some Panadol, Nurophen, and a glass of water?" Because they don't know what else to do its what they would get. Most of the times they ended up in the hospital. Ratchet is losing his God dawn mind as he rushes around looking for the best painkillers he can find for orgaincs in the smallest dosage he can give, hoping to primus it doesn't shut their heart down. In the end, they end up on a medication that makes them extremely drowsy, almost like the green whistle/ Weed.

Ratchet ends up doing alot of study on the human body and realises just how fucked up little monsters we are. We literally need oxygen to survive but he we have to much pure oxygen it will kill us. Water, we need a certain amount of it, if we don't have enough we will get dehydrated and die, if we have to much we will get water poisoning, intoxication, or a disruption of brain function. This happens when there's too much water in our cells, such as the brain and blood cells, causing them to swell. When the cells in the brain swell, they cause pressure in the brain, resulting in death. The issue is that it can become an addiction to drinking too much water for the effect it has on the body. Same with nearly everything we consume, it can kill us, but we need a lot of it in moderation.

Human: "I just need some basic pain killers and a nap"

Bot: "No, you need full surgery, sedations, and 3 weeks of recovery!"

Human: "nah she'll be fine!"

Bot: "Absolutely Not, bed now before I cuff you"

____________

Following that imagine a first contact AU where Cybertronians and humans are just slowly getting to know how the other works and next thing a human is kneeling over in horrific pain and it send the bots all into panic mode trying to help them, wondering what's happening and thinking they are dying. And the human after about ten minutes some pain killers still looking rather pale and unhealthy just go. "Sorry about that fuck I hate, Cramps/palpitations/ phantom pains/ and such" and the bots are just looking at them horrified like.

Bot: NOT NORMAL!!!"

Human: what you talking about?

Bot: everything that just happened you literally just short circuited!

Human: nah that's causal wait till you see the really funky shit.

______________

Human pet AU

Cybertronian's keeping humans as pets is like humans keeping hamsters. Humans are some of the most homicidal, suicidal and just deranged creatures that Cybertronian's could keep as pets. It's gotten to the point that they are a luxury/ exotic pet because if you do not feed them the right stuff, give them the right amount of light and socialising, and they will just die. There are so many Cybertronian's who take their human into clinics worried as and its just the human being a little bustard because they didn't get the treat they wanted 2 weeks ago and are still holding that grudge. Not to mention, we are prone to causing as much trouble and issue. We are like cats.

But we are also very easily sick and primus forbid a human gets sick because to a bot they think it's a death sentence for their sweet little spitfire of a human who they have had now for ages. And the human looks ready to die, and the next day, they are up and about like nothing ever happened.

Human: if you don't feed me the meals I want I'm going to pretend to die. If you do feed me what I want I might actually die because I shouldn't be eating it.

Panicked bot: "MY HUMAN HAS GOTTEN SICK. HELP!?!"

Human: totally worth it.

_________

In conclusion, the cybertronians are rather wary/ concerned about how resilient humans really are.

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[glow-in-the-dark-death]

My Sweet Intruder (Sleepwalking Love)

I wanted crack but also fluff, this was the creation. Enjoy!

~

Tim had recently bought a new place to live near a college since he decided to continue his education, the apartment was on the nicer side of things and even though he had gotten it for his civilian life it still had some security on par with his night life safe homes.

All of this to say that it would be hard for someone to break in and even more so to not be noticed.

Which is pretty what he thinks is going on.

Someone is breaking into his house when he's not there which frankly is not that often to begin with since he's so busy with all kinds of things.

But the intruder doesn't seem to be causing harm?

There's nothing damaged or stolen just some food sometimes.

Honestly the complete opposite of what you would expect from an intruder, his apartment was cleaned things were moved around the kitchen was stocked with fresh food and ready meals.

Honestly it took him this long to know something was wrong because he had originally thought it was one of his brothers coming by and helping out or something.

But no after some investigating it wasn't anyone in the family it wasn't even his friends or someone else he knew someone who would make sense as to why this was happening.

Also there appeared to be living there considering all the things appearing around his apartment making a home for themselves that were very much not his.

But the Intruder since he had no name for them was ..considerate?

Almost sweet in a creepy way if you think about it.

His apartment was cleaned he had meals ready for him to eat and a bunch of other small things that combined were making his life easier.

He would like to know who this intruder was but his surveillance and all other tech always died out when it seemed they were there, so no video proof and they always were gone before he could catch a glimpse of even their shadow.

~

Danny was having such a good time, he was honestly a bit worried about moving to Gotham for college especially since apparently his application to live in the dorms had somehow not been processed or something and they only bothered to tell him while he was already there.

Thankfully luck was on his side because only a few hours after that incident while inside a coffee shop stressing about what to do and venting to his sister on the phone a man sitting next to him who looked like he needed a mini coma of sleep and looked kinda high overheard him and offered to be roommates with him since he was also going to the same college.

So yes things were going wonderfully, he had a place to live where he didn't even have to pay rent, and Tim was such a good roommate, he barely saw him but when he did he usually was more asleep then awake.

~

Tim after a while: "Why are there so many spaced themed objects in my apartment?"

~

Tim inviting Danny to live with him

Danny 'What's Stranger Danger?' Fenton: "Bet"

~

Tim: "How do they keep getting past all my security measures?!*pulling his hair out*

Danny using the key sleepwalking Tim gave him: "Home sweet home!"

~

Tim trying his best to catch Danny in person:

Tim sleeptalking:"One day I'll catch him"

Danny who is used to Tim sleep talking and sleep walking helping him get back to bed for the umpteenth time: "You sure will boo!"

~

Danny being grateful that Tim is letting him live there without having to pay rent and gave him a credit card to pay for things: "He's so sweet guys!"

Sam & Tucker: " Dude..is he your sugar daddy?! "

Danny: *shocked Pikachu face* "But there's no sugar involved?"

~

Danny thinking that maybe they are in a relationship just taking it very slowly because Tim's shy

~

Also Danny's love language being acts of service

Tim's love language is coincidentally also acts of service

~

Tim slowly falls in love with Danny still not knowing who he is: "I think I have issues"

Danny still thinking they're in a relationship and that Tim is just super shy: "Maybe we could hold hands soon!" *sappy smile*

~

Tim:

Danny:

~

What a story it will be when someone asks them how they got together! (◠‿・)—☆

Just an Idea

[confused-pyramid]

Breaking Point

pairing: art donaldson x fem!reader

summary: You and Art were hitting partners (and a bit more) in college, so when you run into him a decade later at the U.S. Open, old sparks reignite...

word count: 3.4k

warnings: SMUT, p in v, oral (fem!receiving), slight marking, drinking

a/n: I watched Challengers last night and then wrote this whole thing in one sitting. Nothing in this is really canon other than Art being a major simp lol so no spoilers for the movie! I usually make playlists (or at least find a few songs that get me in the zone) when writing, so I thought I'd start sharing them here too if people are interested!

You should've known he'd be here. You've been following his career for the last decade since you graduated, and ever since he won Wimbledon last year, he's been tennis royalty, but a small part of you still thought you wouldn't run into him here. At the fucking U.S. Open.

Stanford was a lifetime ago, and you haven't kept in touch with anyone from the college team, but there was always something about Art Donaldson that stuck with you. Ten years later, that hasn't changed.

"It's been so long," he calls out when he spots you from across the practice courts. "I didn't think I'd see you."

You didn't either, and you still haven't decided how you feel about it yet, but when he jogs over to your side, you just shrug. "Guess it's your lucky day."

He smiles, and his teeth glimmer in the bright sunlight. "It certainly is."

The loud thwacks of tennis balls hitting rackets echo around you, but you can't seem to focus on anything but the man standing in front of you. He looks good.

He was beautiful in college too, whether he was training across the net or slipping into your bed, but it feels different now, with so much time apart. He looks like a man now.

"Anyway," Art says, jerking you back to reality. "We should get a drink sometime. To catch up."

He adds the last part almost as an afterthought, but it doesn't escape your notice how his eyes have been trailing up and down your body since he walked over.

A drink could mean almost anything with Art Donaldson, but you're too curious to refuse. "Sure. This weekend, after the semi-finals."

He nods, his eyes glinting with amusement, and you grab your bag from the bench beside you before looping the strap over your shoulder.

You walk off the practice courts after one last glance over your shoulder, and you feel his eyes following along until the doors swing shut behind you.

***

He should've expected this. You were a firecracker in college, and you kept him on his toes every single day you were together, so he really should have known what he was getting into when he met you for drinks that weekend.

Instead, he's one too many beers in, and his buzz is only enhancing the glow of your beauty in the hazy bar light. Your dress isn't even that low cut, but something about the shadows glancing over your strong shoulders reminds him of late nights in the Stanford dorms after a hard practice when there was only one thing he wanted more than sleep.

"You played really well this morning," he says genuinely as he sets his beer back onto the table. "After that first set, Mueller didn't stand a chance."

You flash him a dazzling smile as you shrug, resting your chin on your palm. "I had her after the third game, but thanks. It was a quick match."

Art hasn't taken his eyes off of you since you sat down, and while prolonged eye contact usually makes you nervous, you find that you're actually enjoying the attention quite a bit. Attentiveness was never an issue with him, and you would normally give in to your urges, but there's just too much history with him, and you can't afford to lose focus. Not when the title is so close you can taste it.

"I hear the networks are eyeing you for a commentator post," you say, trying to change the subject.

You trace your finger around the rim of your nearly empty margarita, before lifting it to take a final sip, and you don't miss how his throat bobs as you lick the salt off your lips.

"Uh, yeah," he mumbles, clearing his throat. "It was just some chatter, but I'm not looking to retire anytime soon."

You frown. "Is that right?" He's playing better than ever, but he definitely hasn't been himself out on the court in years.

He glances down, clearly trying to avoid the scrutiny, and when his eyes land on your empty glass, he changes the subject again. "You want another drink?"

You shake your head, knowing that another will lead to a less than fun morning, but he isn't done yet.

"You sure?" His eyes find yours again, and this time the eye contact feels primal. "It doesn't have to be here."

Your eyebrows lift and you tilt your head with a knowing smile. "Where were you thinking?"

"I don't know," he shrugs, before his lips curve up into a cheeky grin. "My room's nice."

You saw it coming from a mile away, but it still pulls a laugh out of you. "Oh, I'm sure it is, but this isn't college anymore, Art. You should get some sleep...focus on your match in the morning."

You push your glass forward and stand up, nodding at him as you turn to leave, but then you see him stand too out of the corner of your eye.

"I'll walk you to your car."

He looks at you with a hint of amusement in his expression, and you can't help but want to play along, even though Art Donaldson was nothing but trouble for you.

You don't respond, instead just stepping out from around the table and walking out the front doors of the bar. You don't have to turn back to know he's right behind you, and when you reach your car, parked in the center of the nearly empty parking lot, you spin around.

He doesn't stop walking until he has you practically boxed in by your driver's side door, his face less than a foot from yours as he tucks his hands into his pockets.

He had pushed his sleeves back at some point in the night, from the humid summer heat of the bar, and you can see the veins on his forearms now, under the dim light of the street lamps.

"This is me," you say jokingly, tipping your chin at your car as he looks at you with an expression you can't distinguish. "I'm good from here."

He doesn't move.

It's not that you expected him to give up so easily; you had just forgotten how persistent he could be.

Art's mouth stretches into a slanted smile. "Do you remember the Davis Invitational? Junior year."

Speaking of his persistence...he had been pursuing you for months, not in any tangible way, but you always knew what he was thinking.

After the invitational, where you and Art had been the respective men's and women's champions, you had gone back to his dorm to celebrate. Three hours and just as many vodka shooters later, he had finally gotten you in his bed. Not that you were complaining.

Art knew his way around your body, and even that first night, he had managed to get you off more times than you can remember.

"What about it?" you shoot back, your eyebrows raising at the insinuation.

"Nothing," he says with a shrug, but you don't miss the humor glinting in his eyes. "You just used to be a lot more fun to celebrate with."

"Fuck you," you spit out, shoving his shoulder harder than you mean to. He barely budges, instead grabbing your hand and tugging you a few inches closer, and suddenly a wave of lust washes over you, making your breath hitch.

You press your thighs together under your dress, hoping he can't feel the heat spreading across your skin, but then his smile turns to a smirk and you know you're done for.

"What do you think?" he whispers, leaning in so close that his lips brush over your earlobe. "Want to celebrate?"

Molten lava pools in your gut and you are only peripherally aware of his hand sliding down your hips to the flowy edge of your dress. His fingers glide over your skin as his hand goes under the loose fabric, before rising up to grab your ass, drawing your hips flush with his.

Your arousal is already starting to soak through your panties, but the feeling of his hard bulge pressed up against you sends you flying back to reality.

You lift your hands to his chest and push him back so that he's a few steps away from you. It's not far enough, but at least you can't feel him from there. "I'm not fucking you, Art."

He shrugs, his smirk only slightly shaken. "Who said anything about fucking? I just wanted to talk."

You huff out a laugh. "You're funny. Besides, I'm too tired for this. I need to rest up before my match."

"What about tomorrow night then?" His lip is still curved up in a smirk, but there's an earnestness in his gaze that surprises you.

"What makes you think you'll still be here tomorrow?"

His mouth spreads into a wide smile. "I always win."

You snort. "Fine. Win your match and we can talk."

You don't miss the grin on his face as you climb into your car and leave.

***

You win your next match in straight sets again, so by the time you're out of the locker room, Art's match is still in play. Driven by a mixture of curiosity and intrigue, you head over to his court and find a seat halfway up the stands.

He has won two of three sets, and he's leading the fourth, so with the prospect of the match ending soon, you use the time to observe him from a different angle.

His form is much better than it was in college, and you've seen him play countless times on TV, but you haven't really let yourself see how good he looks out there. The sinewy muscles rippling in his arms as he lifts them to serve. The rugged sturdiness of his legs as he races back and forth across the court.

You wish you could be down there with him, running your hands over the smooth lines of his abdomen, tasting the drops of sweat as they roll down his body-

The crowd erupts in cheers, and you are thrust back into reality as Art throws his arms into the air with a loud whoop. The scoreboard confirms his victory, and you clap along with the audience as he shakes his opponent's hand and heads over to his chair.

People around you stand up to leave, but you stay in your seat, watching as he grabs his bag and stuffs his rackets inside. When he wipes a towel over his face, his head turns up and his eyes immediately go to you, like he knew you were here the whole time.

Your stomach does an involuntary flip and he flashes his eyebrows at you as you bit the inside of your lip, trying to hold back a smile.

When he ducks back down to grab his things, you stand up quickly to avoid letting him see your blush and follow the rest of the crowd off of the stands.

***

You hear it late that night. Three little raps on your hotel room door, just before midnight.

You're in the finals, and you don't have any friends here to celebrate with, so you were sipping a beer and watching old match recordings when you heard the knock.

There's no one else who would come to see you this late, so you're not surprised when you open the door to find Art, dressed in a tee shirt and comfy-looking pajama pants.

"What are you doing here?" you ask, even though you already know the answer.

Art just looks at you, his pupils already massive. "You said if I win, we could talk." He shrugs. "I won."

"Okay," you concede, opening the door wider to let him in. "Just talking then."

He nods, before following you inside and shutting the door.

"You want anything to drink?" you ask as he trails behind you.

He shakes his head. "I'm good."

You grab your beer bottle from the side table and sit down on the floor, crossing your legs beneath you.

Art sits across from you, his feet in front of him and his elbows on his knees. You were assigned to a modestly sized room, but for someone as tall as him, the space must feel cramped.

"How did the match feel?" you ask, taking a swig of beer.

He thinks for a moment. "It was close at first, but once I shook my legs out, it became a breeze."

"Your legs were never the problem," you say, leveling him with a serious look. "It was always your attitude. Or your confidence."

He frowns, his eyebrows scrunching slightly. "I'm plenty confident."

"You are now," you tell him as you swirl the bottle around in your hand. "You won Wimbledon, you have a reason to be confident."

That makes him smile. "So you're saying my legs are fine."

"Yeah," you say before you can process what you're saying. "You looked good out there."

His smile turns to a smirk so fast it nearly gives you whiplash. "You think I look good?"

You let out an exasperated scoff. "At tennis."

His grin doesn't falter so you roll your eyes at him before lifting the bottle to your lips to take another swig. When you tilt the bottle back down to swallow, his hand reaches forward to take it from you. Your grip on the beer doesn't loosen, so the motion sends you pitching forward.

Your mouth parts with a small yelp as his arm wraps around you, tugging you closer, and before you can process what's happening, his lips are on yours.

If you let yourself think too hard, you would realize that there is way too much shared history and way too much baggage here for this to be a good idea...so that's why you don't.

Instead, you let him pull your body flush against his and when his tongue slides over the seam of your lips, you grant him access immediately. Your shirts come off in quick succession and you gasp as his hands run up and down your body, his strong, calloused fingers grasping at every inch of purchase they can find. Yours reach up to tangle in his messy hair, and when his lips move down your neck, your grip tightens, making him moan quietly against your skin.

Something about being on the floor takes you back to your college days, when you'd both be so worked up after practice that you couldn't even make it to the bed, but that feels too real right now.

"Art," you whisper as he runs his lips and teeth over your neck, before replacing it with his tongue to soothe the quickly blossoming marks. "Art, the bed. Now."

It takes him a second to process your words, but when he does, he loops an arm around your waist and lifts you up and onto the bed in one motion, before pushing you back onto the covers.

By the time your head hits the bed, he's already pulling your shorts and panties down, exposing you to the cool air. His lips follow the path of his hands as they trace up your legs, making you squirm under the hot touch of his rough fingers. He presses wet kisses to the insides of your thighs before spreading them apart and dropping to his knees on the floor in front of you.

"So wet for me," he whispers, almost to himself, before he dives in, his mouth making lewd noises as he licks a thick stripe up your core. "You taste so good."

He lifts your legs over his shoulders to give himself some leverage as he makes a mess between your thighs, licking and sucking your clit into his mouth before fucking you with his tongue.

His grip on your thighs is the only thing keeping you pinned to the bed as you writhe beneath him, trying to not squeeze your legs together from the heat spreading up your core.

His mouth feels amazing and it takes only minutes before you're already nearing the edge. You don't want to come until he is inside of you, though, so you yank his hair, pulling him up and off of you.

He looks up at you through his lashes, and he looks ethereal with his disheveled hair and his chin wet with your slick.

You, on the other hand, look like heaven itself with your eyes half-hooded from pleasure, and he can't help the grin that crosses his face as he licks his lips and climbs over you onto the bed. He lets you taste yourself as he kisses you again, and he lets out a low groan when you bite his lip just hard enough to sting.

"Fuck me," you gasp, your voice too breathy to be actually authoritative. "Fuck me the way I like."

Art grins at your desperate tone and the wild lust in your eyes, committing this image to memory for a later time when you're much further away.

He kicks his pants off as he lifts you both further up the bed, and after covering himself with a condom from his back pocket, he lines himself up and slowly pushes forward.

He gives you a few moments to adjust to his size before slowly pulling out nearly all the way and then thrusting in again.

The slight pain turns to pleasure almost immediately, but he keeps his pace steady so as not to hurt you. You need more right now, so you wrap your legs around him for leverage and flip him over so that you're straddling him.

He groans as his head hits the pillow, and when he tries to sit up, you press your hands to his chest, pushing him down as you ride him. This position gives you a lot more control, and you use it to your advantage as you bounce yourself on his cock, feeling the way he fills you up so fully from this higher angle.

His fingers dig into your hips as he helps lift you up and down, and his eyes are practically feral as he watches the spot where his cock disappears inside of you.

He's the perfect size to fill you up completely, and with each swivel of your hips, you get closer and closer to your climax, which is approaching so fast you can taste it.

You cry out when he hits exactly the right spot deep inside of you, and his eyes fly to yours as your movements start to stutter from your impending release.

Needing to see the look on your face when you come, he pushes your lower back forward so you fall against his chest, before lifting himself up to meet you halfway. With one arm locked around you, he brings his other hand down between the two of you to rub quick circles over your clit. The new angle lets him thrust up into you, and the increased pace of his movements mixed with the speed of his fingers sends you flying over the edge.

Your mouth falls open with a loud cry, and you squeeze him so tightly he's practically seeing stars. You look so beautiful when you come, like a goddess sent down here just for him, and when your eyes meet his, he finds his own climax.

His body jerks forward with the force of his release, and you let him thrust a few more times as he finally finishes inside of you.

After pulling out, he tugs you down to lay next to him, and at first you let him, but the emotions warring inside of you don't stay quiet for long.

You know that whatever this was isn't going to go anywhere. You didn't work in college, and you won't work now, and you don't want anyone to get hurt again, so you have to make a choice. Now.

"I need to get some rest," you say quietly, a tiny part of you hoping he doesn't hear you. "Before the next match."

"Yeah," he sighs after a beat. "Me too."

You let him hold you for a moment longer, before he unwraps himself from your body and sits up, tugging his shirt and pants back on. You tug the sheet back and wrap it around your torso as he stands up and walks to the door.

You're not sure what you're expecting as he goes to leave, but what you get is a silent nod as the door swings shut behind him.

[obsessedwrhys]

hi baby, you can make an hcs of the characters from The Boys with a Harley Quinn! readers?? With all characters including Soldier Boy

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ THE BOYS X HARLEY QUINN!READER

ᯓ★ looots of goofy shit, dark humour, gore, sensitive topics (abuse, toxic relationships, etc), toxicity, reader is fem!!

ᯓ★ Characters included (I couldn't do everyone so I just did these guys, I know yer kind missy 👴): Homelander, Black Noir (Old and New), Butcher, Soldier Boy

HOMELANDER

He's honestly so fed up with you.

Sure he loves watching you mess with people but he does not like it when YOU DO IT TO HIM!!!

"Quinn!" He'd shout for your name and you'd open the door to see him standing outside your room. You laugh when you see him covered in ketchup. One of your many pranks.

"What?? You needed the upgrade for the suit cupcake" You smiled all innocently.

That being said you LOVE pulling pranks on him.

Whether if it's putting hair dye in his shampoo or stealing his suit so he wakes up searching for it.

It's just your favourite thing to do.

There have been times he's tried to kill you due to his rage but it takes every cell in his body to stop himself because he knows that he's not able to do that.

Because why? Because he thinks you don't even deserve to be killed by him directly.

You disgust him that much.

He just wishes that you weren't such a pain in his ass.

If the pranks weren't bad enough that it had him double checking every item he uses, AKA worsening his trust issues. You've also came up with nicknames to mock his superhero status.

"If it ain't the flying dick!" You'd address his entrance to everybody the moment he walked in the meeting room.

Just imagine him suddenly stop and standing at the door like 🧍‍♂️

If you wanna know more nicknames, we've got captain narcissist, america's buttplug and sperm cell.

Trust you are never sent on safely planned missions, only the ones he knows are highly dangerous in hopes of you dying...

There was this one time he sent you on a suicide mission and he was all proud of himself, but just as he thought he finally got rid of you, the elevator door slides open to reveal you, some fabrics of your clothes were ripped and there were bruises all over your body but it didn't seem to bother you.

"What's up toots?" You'd smile even though your nose was bleeding. That's when he looked down to see the head of the guy he asked for you to assassinate.

Who also happened to be one of the most protected men in the nations by the way.

Like how the fuck did you do it?

You're not even an ACTUAL supe!!

Regardless, he has his respects for you but really why WONT YOU LEAVE HIM THE FUCK ALONE.

PLEASE STOP FLIRTING WITH HIM SO CASUALLY ITS WEIRD??!???!?

ALSO DONT PINCH HIS BUTT!!!

You once did that during a meeting and the sight of him yelping as his body jumps was unforgettable!!

You're JUST like a bee addicted to its pollen. P.S, he's the pollen.

BLACK NOIR (OLD)

He.. doesn't... understand you??

Why do you enjoy showering him with love??

You say it's in your nature but why do you always ask to be carried around the tower??

And why does he obliges each time??

Apparently how your mindset works is that you find extremely deadly things to be adorable.

In this case, he's the extremely deadly thing.

With his silent nature, you just NEEDED to get a reaction out of him.

You tried tickling him or making him sneeze but he always just stares at you in confusion.

You can't see his face but you can tell he's giving you the "What are you doing?" Face.

That's when your bright ass thought of a plan.

A dumb and reckless idea... but hey! You have suicidal tendencies so this is fine!

You'd put yourself in danger on purpose just for him to always come rescuing you. He has lost many body parts when doing so but you could care less, you would give him those heart eyes as he carried you back to Vought in bridal style...

Just for the managers to lock you up in a small prison cell to prevent you from pulling more of these stunts.

Though they were never enough to hold you back.

Naturally there would be rumours in the industry if you two were dating and you never hesitate to push those rumours even more.

Imagine for a premiere for your movie, you'd walk on the red carpet in a dress with Noir beside you, still in his signature suit.

"You're looking real good tonight, handsome. I'm liking what I see" You'd say with your arm wrapped around his. He looks at you as you winked at him seductively.

Someone save this poor boy from your endless flirting.

Jokes aside, there has been times he's seen you in your lowest, like that time you trashed your room with your makeup melted from your tears.

Apparently you got rejected from a movie role you wanted to get so badly. Which was Mario but stupid Chris fucking Pratt got it instead.

Seeing the state you were in, he'd grab you by the shoulders firmly and make you sit down, then putting a blanket around you. He'd leave the room for a couple of minutes... to come back with a bucket of ice cream for you to happily snack on as you rest your head on his shoulder.

BLACK NOIR (NEW)

"EW!! Get this mo'fuckin' bastard away from me!" Literally your words when you heard about the replacement.

Is a bit hurt by your disgust towards him??

But that just means he knows what he's doing right or wrong with this new role.

No because seriously everything he does, he would stop to watch for your reaction, most of the time you are never impressed.

Like how he killed those homelander fans to frame the starlighters. He'd hold the bat, his mask all bloody as he turned to see you, arms crossed, no reaction to his performance.

UNTIL at the end of season 4 where he began killing people within the company, that was what got you to start growing interest in his character.

Even though you're fine with him, for now, you really don't like it when he pushes things.

As in trying too hard to replace the old Black Noir. You just don't fw it 😡

"Hey! Hey! Harley wait up!" He'd call out for you while you ignored him and decided to speed walk away. Anyways, he manages to catch up with you.

"The team wants us to attend the premiere of your next movie together.. since.... y'know... we're rumoured to be dating??" He said and you had to stop walking to put your entire energy into giving him the most NASTIEST look. The second he sees you take a deep breath, he knew it was over.

"I ain't yer GODDAMN babysitter, and don't you think that for a second that wearin' the suit makes you my damn boyfriend, alright? I ain't here to hold yer hand and coddle you. I got better things to do than listen to yer constant whining and need for attention. So knock it off, ya copy-cat!" You'd point at him before walking off, hand on your hip.

You can bet that he asks Deep for advices on how to win your heart.

BRO IS TOO INVESTED IN HIS CHARACTER 😭

That's why he thinks making you fall for him is one of Noir's characteristics.

You love mysterious and threatening looking people? Okay gotcha.

You want hyenas for pets? Cha-Ching! Got it!

But seriously someone please tell him to stop before he gets his ass beat. He does not want that Brooklyn smoke.

BILLY BUTCHER

Ah great another crazy chick.

The only possibility to why you'd be apart of the boys is if someone vouched for you.

50/50 it's either Hughie or Frenchie.

Though surprisingly enough, you were the first to notice the symptoms of his virus. Like he could be fidgeting at the office and you'd point it out so casually that everybody turns to look at you in confusion.

Everybody thought you were crazy at first, it's to be expected, but the second his virus was confirmed to be lethal. Everybody has started to take you a bit more seriously.

Read carefully. A bit.

He finds your weapons fascinating though. Like how your gun has words engraved in it, your initials being the biggest. Not to mention the designs being the inspiration of poker cards.

"That must make you the clown" He once said when you whipped it out to shoot someone. You smile mischievously at his remark.

"Oh you'd better watch your tongue before I make you the punchline of my next joke!"

He likes you.

ONLY if you don't fuck anything up.

Sure you guys do argue a lot but theres also strange moments of understanding between you two.

There was this one time he found you alone in the office, your legs placed on the table and you were literally downing a bottle of alcohol. It was when he came closer that he noticed the bruises on your body.

"What the hell happened to you?" He said and you sniffed as you quickly wipe away the tears in your eyes.

"Oh, I'm just peachy, tough guy... Can't you see I'm having a little cry-fest over here after a lover's spat with my oh-so-darling ex-boyfriend. Yeah, he just looooves to use me as his personal punchin' bag, y'know? But don't worry 'bout me. I'll be back to my ol' crazy self in no time. Just need a minute to let the tears dry and the bruises heal"

For the rest of the night he'd stay to talk about how shitty both your lives are. You guys actually BOND over your past traumas.

The booze just making the conversation ever more fun.

Will go out of his way to take you to places for shopping or eating at a restaurant to make you feel better.

After understanding you better, he realised you're just a once normal person who became a psychotic sociopath after whatever the supes did to wrong you.

He may not show it to you but he really cares about you and would not hesitate to protect you despite how much he says he wish you'd just fuck off.

SOLDIER BOY

You have to be some kind of masochist right??

He says the most disrespectful shit to you and you just squeal in excitement from it.

It's starting to weird him out.

Everything he does or say, you love to mock him, like he could be giving orders and you'd be at the back using your hands to mimic his talking like a puppet as you mouthed along and made faces.

But he has to say, he finds your insanity amusing. Because deep down, he sees a tiny bit of himself in you.

He calls you Looney Tunes. Why exactly? Nobody knows its for his own entertainment.

He's into older women but that doesn't stop you from flirting with him. He finds your efforts interesting.

"You're a tough nut to crack, Soldier Boy, but I'll get you to crack a smile eventually" You'd say and it'll be enough to have him grinning at you.

"You gonna tickle me?" He'd say, returning the same energy.

But that doesn't mean he's interested in you, he's just toying with you.

AND YOU KNOW IT. But apparently red flags just look like a go flag to you 🤷‍♀️

Despite that, if any other guy did the things he did to you, he would be fast to knock out the fucker. That's because he knows you value loyalty and he does too.

Everything aside, he really appreciates it when at the end where everybody turned against him you stayed by his side. Just imagine him driving the car while you're in the passenger seat singing your heart out to Cherry Bomb by The Runaways.

He'd simply shake his head with a smile on his face.

But the more relationship develops, he'd actually start to show you his softer side. Not soft side. Soft-er side.

Will literally lecture you into standing up more for yourself and stop being a doormat for every man in your life.

How ironic huh?

"You might act all tough and macho, but I see that big, marshmallow heart under there, sweetheart" You'd boop him on the nose that has him rolling his eyes with a smirk.

"You already said that. Are you a broken record or just dim?" He said.

If you stay obedient and don't push the wrong buttons, he might just keep you around.

[hoshifighting]

— Synopsis: Lonely!Seungkwan shows up at your fishing tent and goes fishing alone because his friends didn't show up. And you make sure he doesn't feel lonely by offering him company on your breaks. — WC: 3.2k — WARNINGS: Mentions of being left out, smut, fluff, penetrative sex, fingering, g'spot stimulation, squirting, oral (m. receiving), sk is mentioned ab being good with girls一he fucks u good because he likes you sm <3

[Issue Club Serie]

You arrive at the fishing center early, just as the first light of dawn breaks over the island bay. The salty tang of the sea air fills your lungs, a familiar comfort. Your dad's fishing center stands quiet and still, a stark contrast to the bustling weekends when groups of men flock here, escaping their everyday lives with beer and fishing rods. You brace yourself for another routine day of serving loud, boisterous customers.

But today is different. As you unlock the kiosk and roll up the gate, you notice a lone figure waiting by the entrance. He's much younger than your usual clientele, with dark brown hair that catches the early morning light. He’s standing there, hands in his pockets, looking slightly out of place.

"Hey," you call out as you finish opening up, "Can I help you with something?"

"Yeah, I'd like to rent a fishing rod," he replies, his voice carrying a hint of shyness.

"Just one?" you ask, somewhat surprised. He nods.

You hand him a rod and watch as he sets up at one of the chairs by the water. He moves with a calm, practiced ease, casting his line into the bay and settling in. You expect his friends to arrive soon, but as the morning stretches into afternoon, no one joins him. He remains alone, reeling in a fish here and there with quiet patience.

The hours pass, and you lose yourself in the rhythm of your tasks. When the guy finally returns to the kiosk, you notice the slightly downcast expression on his face as he pays for the rental.

"Did you enjoy yourself?" you ask, trying to sound casual.

He chuckles softly, "Not many options," he says, and you frown, wiping down the counter.

"What do you mean?" you probe gently.

"I invited some friends to come fishing with me today, but no one showed up," he admits, his voice tinged with disappointment.

Your heart squeezes in your chest. There's something about his cool, easy-going demeanor that makes his confession all the more poignant. You feel a pang of sympathy for him. "I'm sorry to hear that," you say sincerely.

He shrugs, offering a pained smile. "It's okay. No need to be."

But you can tell it does bother him. The way he looks down at his hands, the slight slump in his shoulders—it's clear he had hoped for more from today.

As he leaves, you find yourself hoping that next time, he'll have someone to share his fishing trip with. Until then, you'll remember the lonely young man who came to the fishing center, looking for company and finding only the quiet expanse of the bay.

A few days pass, and the familiar sight of the boy on his bike comes into view again. Your kiosk is already open as he pedals up. You glance at him and smile. “Good morning...?”

“Seungkwan,” he says with a small nod.

“How can I help you today?” you ask, leaning your elbows on the counter.

“One fishing rod, please,” he replies.

“Again,” you think to yourself. You give him a small smile and hand him the rod. He sets up alone, just like last time. You sigh at the sight. It’s a sunny Thursday, the perfect morning to fish under the warm sun with good company. With no customers around, you decide to join him.

You grab your fishing rod, some bait, and two glasses of cold lemonade. As you approach, you place the cups on the table next to him and your things on the floor. Seungkwan watches you set up a chair beside him, glancing at the two glasses. You start fishing by his side, and it’s completely silent. Seungkwan seems so used to being alone that your presence feels foreign to him.

After a while, the silence begins to feel natural. You break it, asking, “Is there a reason why your friends didn’t come today?”

He looks at you before turning his gaze back to the water. “Well, Joshua works a lot, Seokmin studies non-stop, Woozi doesn’t leave his home, and Jeonghan is dating right now. So... I don’t blame them.”

You hum thoughtfully. “They must be very busy.”

He nods. “They are.”

You hand him the lemonade, and he thanks you. Then, he asks, “Why are you fishing with me?”

“Well, I’m not exactly fishing,” you say. You both glance at your rod, which is just laying in the water, not cast far out, just resting on the sand.

He laughs. “Yes, I’ve noticed.”

You shrug, laughing too. “I’m used to selling fishing stuff, not really going fishing.”

“Then why are you fishing now?” he asks.

You smile. “I wanted to talk with you.”

Seungkwan looks surprised. “You don’t need to keep me company out of pity.”

“No,” you brush his idea away, “I really wanted to get to know you.”

Someone genuinely excited to know about him? He feels so happy he almost explodes. Every time you ask him about his favorite song, what he likes to do, what he’s studying, or why he likes to fish, he feels more and more content.

As the morning sun climbs higher, your conversations flow easily, the gap between two strangers closing bit by bit.

Seungkwan fights the urge to visit your dad's fishing center every day. He doesn't want to seem desperate. Each time he comes, he brings something new—a sweet treat, a fresh loaf of bread. You two have developed a routine of walking along the beach at sunset, feeling the cool waves lap at your feet. 

Sometimes, he even helps you with the work at the tent. Your dad is charmed by his kindness, and you can't help but love Seungkwan's company too.

He's become like a keychain, always by your side. The thoughts of him being alone have dissipated since he met you. Your friends adore him too, though you sometimes have to remind them that you were his friend first. His good looks don't go unnoticed, and it’s hard to deny that you noticed his charisma from the first time you saw him.

Now, as you close the kiosk after a successful Saturday, Seungkwan helps roll down the window gate. Your dad has gone to take some goods to the city center, leaving just the two of you. You rearrange the fishing rods on the holder on the wall, glancing at Seungkwan out of the corner of your eye. darkened interior closed kiosk, you can see the outline of his physique through his tight shirt.

"Thanks for your help today," you say, trying to sound casual.

"No problem. I like being here," he replies with a smile.

You finish with the rods and turn to face him fully. "You know, you don't have to bring something every time you come."

He shrugs, a shy smile playing on his lips. "I like seeing you smile."

The words make your heart skip a beat. You step closer, his body resting on the counter "I like seeing you too, Seungkwan."

He seems to consider this for a moment, then says, "I don't feel so alone anymore, thanks to you."

The tension between you installs, but it's a comforting kind of tension, one that promises something more. In that moment, you realize how much he means to you, how much his presence has become a part of your life. The darkness of the kiosk feels intimate, like a cocoon wrapping around the two of you.

"You know," you say, trying to lighten the mood a bit, "you're pretty good at this fishing center stuff. My dad might start paying you."

Seungkwan laughs, the sound filling the small space. "I'd do it for free, just to be around you."

Your heart swells at his words. "Careful, or I might just take you up on that."

He grins, and the warmth in his eyes makes you feel like the luckiest person in the world. "Deal," 

You two start to notice how close your bodies have become, a proximity you didn't even realize until now. The air is thick with the shared breath between you and Seungkwan, heavy and shallow. You can feel the heat radiating from his body, and you sense him moving even closer.

"Seungkwan," you say softly, breaking the tension. "You said you were alone because of your friends... but I never asked if you had a girlfriend."

He looks at you, his expression serious. "No, I don't."

Your heart races as you gently pull on the hem of his shirt. "So, if I kiss you right now, there won't be any problems, right?"

He breathes out slowly, his eyes locked onto yours. "No problems at all," he whispers.

You take advantage of the intimate darkness of the kiosk, leaning in to press your lips against his. His body responds instantly, molding against yours. One of his hands finds its way behind your neck, pulling you deeper into the kiss, while the other slides down to your ribs, fingers teasing the edge of your bikini, thumb sliding on your underboob before slipping under it to touch your nipples. 

The sound of your kisses fills the small space, wet and urgent. "Kwan," you gasp, pulling back slightly to catch your breath.

He hums, eyes dark with desire as he looks at you. You turn quickly to lock the door, a preventable act. Before you can turn back, Seungkwan's body is pressed against yours from behind. He wraps his arms around you, pulling you close as his hips grind on your ass. You can feel the hard bulge between his legs pressing against you.

Your head rolls back onto his shoulder as you linger in the sensation, his lips finding your neck, leaving a trail of hot kisses. His hands roam over your body, one slipping inside your shorts, the other trailing up to your boob.

One thing Seokmin had told you when Seungkwan brought you to meet him was that Seungkwan was really good with girls when they studied together. 

You had forgotten it.

But now, with his fingers moving in and out of your pussy, under your bikini, as you grind against him, the memory suddenly resurfaces. You didn't even notice when you started moaning, your head resting on his shoulder, mouth open as louder moans escape with each movement of his fingers.

You feel so wet, as if you'd been swimming in the ocean, but the truth is that you're melting under Seungkwan's touch. He curls his fingers against your g'spot, and you quiver, your hand bumping against the wall, knocking a few fishing rods to the ground.

"C-cumin'," you warn, your hips rolling against his hand. 

He intensifies the curl of his fingers, making them go deep into your pussy, reaching the spongy spot harder, making your body flinch up with the strength of his grip. His other hand holds your ass firmly against his cock, guiding your movements.

"That's it," he whispers in your ear. "Let go."

Your back arches, pushing your ass harder against him. The sensation completely consumes you, every nerve in your body is glowing with delight. Your orgasm builds rapidly, the tension coiling tightly in your core until it snaps, making you cum, his hand drenched inside your bikini. You cry out, your body trembling as you ride the high of your orgasm, Seungkwan's fingers never stopping their fast pace.

As you come down from your peak, he holds you close, his breath hot against your neck. You can still feel the hardness of his cock pressing against you, a constant reminder of how much you both desire each other.

He removes his hand from inside your bikini and shorts, and you can feel the wetness as he slides his hand up your belly. Your mind snaps to attention when you hear him sucking his fingers clean, the sound sending a shiver down your spine. You turn around, your legs like jelly as you manage to kneel between him and the door.

Your hands are desperate to find the hard muscle of his cock. Seungkwan braces himself by laying a hand on the door frame, and the sight of his cock, slightly slapping your face as you pull his boxers down, makes his knees quiver. The bulbous head rests against your cheek, smearing precum on your skin.

You relax your jaw, preparing yourself. Holding the crown of his cock, you prop your hands on his balls and take his perfect length into your mouth. You've seen a lot of beautiful things in your life, but hearing Seungkwan's moans is quickly becoming your favorite. He moans, sensitive to the slightest licks, and the sound makes you keenly aware of how wet you are, your bikini and shorts sopping together.

"God, you feel so good," he groans, his voice strained with pleasure. His fingers tangle in your hair, gently guiding you.

You hum in response, the vibration making him twitch in your mouth. You take him deeper, savoring the salty taste and the way he fills your mouth. Each moan he releases, more you deepthroat him, your cum pooling between your legs.

Seungkwan's breathing becomes ragged, his hips bucking slightly as he tries to control himself, his grip tightening in your hair.

You pull back slightly, swirling your tongue around the head of his cock before taking him in again. The way he reacts to every touch, every flick of your tongue, makes you feel powerful, in control. You glance up at him, seeing the bliss etched on his face, lit bitten to contain his moans, and it only spurs you on.

The sounds of his pleasure, the taste of him, the feel of his body trembling—it's unforgettable. You lose yourself in the act, in the way you're linked, the darkness of the kiosk, the intimacy of the moment, everything else fades away.

He pulls you off him with a gentle but firm hand, panting heavily. "I don't want to finish like this," he says, voice hoarse. "I want to be inside you."

You nod, breathless and eager. He helps you to your feet, and you feel the slickness between your thighs, a signal of your arousal. Seungkwan kisses you deeply, hungrily, tasting himself on your tongue as he guides you to the counter. His hands roam over your body, shivers following whenever he moves them on you.

You lean back, feeling the cool surface against your skin as he pushes your shorts and bikini aside. Every nerve in your body alight with need., and Seungkwan seems very proud of the effect he was having on you. 

"Are you ready?" he asks, his voice a low growl.

"Yes," you breathe, barely able to wait any longer.

With a final, searing kiss, he positions himself and pushes into you slowly, filling you completely, his cock so rigid, fighting to penetrate, as your pussy squelch around him. He starts to thrust in and out slowly, even gradually the feeling is intense, because you had already one orgasm, and Seungkwan was looking for his. 

"Seungkwan," you moan, your hands gripping the edge of the counter for support.

He groans in response, his movements becoming more urgent. "I can't hold back," he admits, his voice strained.

"Don't," you say, grabbing his hair and pulling him closer. "Faster, please," you ask, your voice desperate against his lips. 

The request makes him nearly collapse to his knees, overwhelmed by your need.

Seungkwan adjusts his grip, holding your leg up with one hand under your knee, spreading you wider as he thrusts deeper. Your head falls back, strangled moans escaping your mouth as your eyes roll back in ecstasy. The sensation is overwhelming, the heat of his embrace makes you feel dizzy and weightless.

At a certain point, you become aware of Seungkwan sobbing in pleasure in the crook of your neck, his breath hot and ragged against your skin. You glance down, seeing yourself dripping onto the ground, squirting uncontrollably. You couldn't hold back even if you tried; the orgasm doesn't just crash over you—it overturns you completely.

You stare in shock, gasping for air as the longest orgasm of your life pulses through you. Your body convulses with pleasure, and Seungkwan's reaction only heightens the intensity. His raspy moans fill the air, his balance faltering as he tries to maintain his rhythm.

He pulls out of you, unable to hold back any longer, and strokes his cock with his hand. His cum spills onto the floor, mixing with your own fluids. His body convulses against yours, and you can feel his weight as he leans on you for support.

You're left trembling, unsure whether to hold onto the counter behind you or to cling to him. Your legs are weak, and your breaths come in shallow gasps. Seungkwan's body is still pressed against yours, both of you trying to catch your breath in the aftermath of such an intense experience.

"Are you okay?" he asks, his voice still shaky.

You don't answer, your breath still coming in shaky gasps. Instead, you pull Seungkwan into a tight hug, feeling his warmth envelop you. He hugs you back just as tightly, his face buried in the crook of your neck, breathing in your scent.

The two of you stand there for a while, wrapped up in each other, trying to regain your composure. Your heart is pounding, but there's a sense of calm in the embrace, a shared understanding that words can't quite capture.

His hands move gently over your back, a soothing motion that helps you steady your breathing. You can feel his heartbeat against your chest, mirroring your own.

Seungkwan finally breaks the silence, his voice soft and filled with emotion. "I don't want this to end," he whispers.

You nod against his shoulder, your fingers tangling in his hair. "Me neither."

He pulls back slightly to look at you, "I never thought I'd find someone like you here, I don't want to be alone again," he admits, his voice barely more than a murmur.

You smile, knowing that the day you decided to spend with this lovely boy, resulted in something like this. "I feel the same way."

His thumb brushes your cheek, wiping away a stray tear you hadn't realized was there. "Let's not let this be just a moment," he says, his gaze earnest. "I want to be with you, really be with you."

Your heart swells at his words, the sincerity in his voice making you feel lighter than air. "I'd like that," you say, your voice steady and sure.

He smiles, and it's like the sun breaking through the clouds. "Good," he replies, leaning in to kiss you softly.

The kiss is gentle, a promise of more to come. As you pull back, you both laugh softly, the tension melting away into something lighter, more hopeful.

"We should probably clean up," you say with a small chuckle, glancing at the mess on the floor.

Seungkwan nods, a playful grin on his face. "Yeah, we made quite the mess."

Together, you set about tidying up the kiosk, the comfortable silence between you filled with a new sense of unity. Every now and then, your hands brush against each other, sending those butterflies to your stomachs. The mundane task of cleaning up feels almost ceremonial now—a simple act that solidifies the bond between you.

[morguecuts]

Incase I’m Not Here

five hargreeves has a baby with fem!reader  synopsis: five has saved the world from an apocalypse countless times. after creating a loving family of his own, his constant worry that the end will come again unfortunately became true. word count: 1.5k tags: five is a father, fluff, angst, death, a few sad moments authors note: this is one of my most beautiful, yet devastating pieces. i truly love the idea of five being a loving father :(

  ♱⛧ ⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨ ୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆⛧♱ the end of the world was an ongoing tragedy for many years, ruining the lives of billions over and over again, but especially the hargreeves. the umbrella academy, as they were called, spent endless months trying to prevent an apocalypse from occurring. they traveled from timeline to timeline, skipping around decades trying to save themselves and the remainder of earth. 

when the timeline was assumed to be restored, the superhumans had agreed to go separate ways and live their lives. diego and lila created their own family, housing a new timeline version of lila’s birth parents. viktor moved all the way to canada, owning a bar and a gray cat named misty. luther was typically off the grid, except the occasional birthday post for him and all of his siblings. klaus and allison lived together, in a three story house with allison’s daughter claire. 

five hargreeves traveled the world, worrying about the potential upcoming events that would force him and his siblings to reunite in tragedy. he tracked previous timelines, looking for artifacts that hint at a glitch in the system. after the first 5 years of silence, and seeming nothing pointing toward any timeline issues, he began to calm his nerves. 

that’s when he met the mother of his child. she was the light that five never knew he was missing. she ignited a burnt flame deep inside his soul, rekindling the lost inspiration he held for things that were other than research. in addition, her beauty was unmatched to anyone he had ever seen, or met before. her long hair completely covered the back of her body, tracing the outline of her beautiful shape. her perfectly puzzled face made him swoon almost immediately. most importantly, the way that she loved him made him learn to love who he was inside, instead of who people wanted him to be. 

their home was a perfect combination of their personalities. a matte black and white aesthetic, perfectly clean and chic, with a hint of victorian vampire. her feminine touch was visible in all the right places, creating a warm home for the two of them, and anyone else who entered. his headstrong worries of future destruction set up for typically annoying safety procedures, but she didn't mind it. the pair merged together quite beautifully, carbon copies of the other. if five didn’t know any better, which to be fair he actually did, then he would say they were lovers in every possible timeline. 

five was used to living for himself, his siblings, and even the rest of the world. his purpose was always meant to save other people, live for them, protect them. however, now 5 years into the loving marriage with her, he had learned to live for someone who wasn’t superhuman. 

he stood hovering over the clean white bassinet. the small beaded eyes glance up at him, an overwhelming amount of confusion falls over them before turning to love. her small nose scrunching at the sight of him. the few hairs brushed upon her head are slicked down away from her face. her small pursed lips release grumbles and whines at an alarming volume, desiring for the tall suited man to hold her.

“she isn’t going to crumble if you pick her up, five. you have to hold her eventually, she needs to know who her father is.” the child's mother cooed, leaning into his back, wrapping her arms around his waist lovingly. the man sighed into her touch, except it wasn't really there. the air behind him was cold and stiff. his body ached for her, a sense of comfort was quickly turned back into sadness. 

“what if she doesn't like me?” he spoke into the rather empty room. “what if something triggers me to teleport and i hurt her? my only way of protecting her is loving her from a distance.” the water in his eyes glasses over the blue. he reeks of sorrow, insecurity, and fear. 

“you are the one man designed to protect her, my love. don't let what happened in the past make you afraid of what's happening in the present. she’s going to need you, we both know i can't help you anymore. please just pick her up, five.” the voice echoes around him, his eyes narrowing down onto the now sleep filled child. 

he carefully unbuttons the sleeves on his jacket, pushing it off his shoulders and draping it onto the side of the crib. he rolls his white undershirt above his elbows, hyping himself up in the process. the small fragile girl rests on the pillowed surface, her tiny chest rising and falling. his hands carefully wrapping around her body, supporting her head while raising her close to him.

the small being is unlike anything he’s ever seen. tiny hands attached to tiny arms, short legs with the smallest feet. she’s unable to do anything without him. her entire life for the next few years depends on his actions. a small worried smile spreads across his face, admiring the girl leaning against his arms. 

small eyes blink open tiredly, glaring around before landing on her fathers. pure love glistens with the hazel colors swimming around. she makes chirps and squirming noises, slightly frightening five in the process. he takes mental notes on all of her little features. definitely her mothers eyes and lips, but his nose. truly the perfect combination of the two lovebirds. tears form in his eyes when he sees her smile, a miniature yet exact replica that once belonged to her mother. 

a faint knock taps upon the nursery door, the caretaker is chattering unknown words outside. theres a moment of silence before she enters the room, glancing at five with the baby cradled lovingly in his embrace. he turns around at the sound of her appearance, looking into her puzzled face. “there’s been a call for you, it's from your sister in law.” her eyes are firm and strong, holding his gaze causing him to pause for a moment. 

“and what did she say?” he turns his back to her again, slowly rocking the baby back into her peaceful rest.

“a briefcase was found in new york this morning. i’m so sorry, but it’s starting, sir.” she holds her hands together in front of her body, head dipping into her chest. 

“how long do we have?” five knows his constant worrying would eventually lead to this. he thought by spending endless hours hunting down glitches in the timeline, he could find a cause, find a solution, but nothing ever came until now.

“they don't know anything yet. it could be weeks, months, possibly even years. i’ve been told it's not severe, but that doesn't mean that it won't become so.” the sorrow in her voice runs deep, an unfortunate sigh escapes her lips. 

his stillness is deafening, the room has a slight buzzing noise from the house's electricity, but otherwise is completely silent. the babe shifts in his arms, nuzzling into him for better warmth and comfort. it is at this exact moment that everything clicks into place. she is his new purpose, and she will be his future. if anything is to go wrong, he would sacrifice his life for her without a question. nothing will ever be able to cause harm to her as long as he is alive.

his mind races thinking of the possibilities, will she have powers like him? will she be as headstrong as him? will she be accurately able to save the world if he is no longer alive to do so himself? The caretaker takes a step backwards, beginning to leave the room before his voice breaks the silence. “i need parchment, as much as you can physically gather.” his words are cold, and demanding, nothing that he has ever been towards her before. “and pens as well, as many pens as you can find me. i have work i must do before it's too late.” he begins to lie the child back into her bassinet, gently wrapping her back into the warmth of the bed. “yes sir, is there anything else?” the caretaker steps towards the door once more, ready to step into motion as requested. five’s eyes scan over every inch of his beloved offspring, a protective concern washed over his face. “yes actually, the albums from the attic please. i want her to be able to recognize her family when things go south.” his comment is quieter, more personal and calm. the caretaker whisks away, leaving the man and his daughter alone once more.

“you will never be alone” a gentle hand brushes small hairs away and out of her face. rubbing her small, chubby cheeks before pulling back. “i will guide you through everything that i possibly know, you will not fail this world.” his feet step back from the white wooden crib, reaching for the black jacket that was hung upon it earlier that night. slipping into it before exiting the room, heading toward his office.

 ♱⛧ ⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨ ୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆⛧♱

thank you so much for reading!

i hope you’ve enjoyed it, please feel free to make any comments or story requests down below. any support is always appreciated <3

[madschiavelique]

A Crown Of Ink : Chapter 5 - Temperance

summary : viktor and reader work together in the library (so much banter, it's insane), then maybe there's a small fight because a guy called viktor a cripple and that causes some issues

content warnings : mentions of blood but really not that much tbh

word count : 5,4k

author's note : you thought i was gone on this one huh ? WRONG. we're so back babies! i know it's been 2 years since i've touched this baby okay, but i'm back now! hopefully i will get more time to write about this lil guy bc i love this fic.

masterlist : 1 — 2 — 3 — 4 — 5

(not proofread, english is not my first language ✦)

taglist : @doctorho

For the rest of the two long hours, Heimerdinger continued his lesson.

The class had come to an end, you silent, the class teeming with gossip. Professor Heimerdinger had distributed the subjects one by one to the students at the end of the lesson. He was a perfectly reasonable, friendly teacher who tried to make his pupils laugh at the expense of their historical knowledge.

When you had a lesson with him, you knew you were listening to a teacher who was wise enough to turn events and experiences into jokes to lighten the burden of his history lessons.

He was always on the lookout for questions and comments from the students, not hesitating for a moment as he gave the subjects to the groups one by one to point out the difficulties they might find and the pitfalls that might await them.

In short, Heimerdinger wanted his students to succeed, not to see a decline in the Piltover Academy's chances of success, which in the eyes of many seemed to be something to crow about rather than something to be ashamed of.

The very idea of being one of the few students to overcome these difficulties and succeed was, in your eyes, the greatest reward that could ever be given to you.

“Young folks,” he said, pointing to the two of you. “Come this way. I have reserved a subject especially for you.”

Heimerdinger didn't do things haphazardly. He gave students subjects that reflected them, or at least where he knew the results would be most interesting. You couldn't help but fear what he was up to.

When the students had dispersed, the tinkle of Viktor's cane sounded until he arrived at your side. You sighed audibly as you looked at him, crossing your arms over your chest as he gave you a winning smile.

He seemed to enjoy it when you got angry, and took great pleasure in teasing you constantly. Had he been a friend, you wouldn't have held it against him, even though your list of friends consisted mainly of Eris, Sky and Jayce. However, a friend wasn't supposed to be a problem for your success. There's only so much space in the academy for students who come out on top, and you weren't about to give yours away.

“Good,” he said at last as the last student passed through the doorway. “There's no need to point out that you two are the sharpest elements of this class, you're well enough aware of that, as is the rest of the school certainly.”

Your bickering and petty battles almost made the corridors of the school come alive again with the excitement of rumour and gossip partaking in your reputation.

“None of the fellow teachers in this establishment seem to have brought to the table, however, a possibility which seems to me to be the most interesting for both of you: teamwork.”

You arched an eyebrow, finding the reasoning profoundly moronic.

“Sir,” you couldn't help but point out, “this school is eliminatory. Why would you want to associate students who won't necessarily all have the chance to pass the exams?”

Heimerdinger chuckled, “I'm not doing it with the prospect of a pass or a gold medal waiting for you at the finish line, Miss.”

You tilted your chin up in a slight pout of surprise.

“You see, I'm not necessarily trying to prepare you for the exams, but for what will happen once they're over. Having a diploma is all very well on paper, but what counts most in the end will be what you achieve.”

“All right,” you admit, “but why put us in a pair like this?”

“It's quite simple,” he jumped up from his desk, trotting across the floor to stand in front of you, your eyes downcast on him. “In the working environment, you don't always find a shoe to fit. And when you don't have the power to dismiss your colleague just because you don't like them, you have to learn to sacrifice your temperament for the sake of the common good. Now, I'm not asking you to make sacrifices, that word is far too violent, but I am asking you to compromise.”

You exchanged a look with Viktor, your fists clenching until your knuckles were white. You'd already made enough compromises for one lifetime, and now you had to go on? He, for his part, didn't seem too bothered by the situation. How could he be so calm? So serene about the idea of cooperating?

“You don't always work with the person of your choice, and not always on the subjects you'd prefer. Oh, that's just it! Speaking of subjects…”

He stood on tiptoe, grabbing the last sheet of paper from his desk and holding it out to Viktor.

The latter, for once, frowned in pure confusion and even perhaps... irritation?

“The evolution of Zaun's power?”

Your eyes narrowed before shifting from Viktor to Heimerdinger, “Are you joking?”

“I do love to laugh young lady but the shortest jokes are the best. You both seem, for different reasons, to have an excellent knowledge of Zaun. Its political power, its evolution, and even the iconic figures who can make themselves forgotten in the shadows of its depths.”

You exhaled a shaky breath, trying to remain upright and not revolt on the spot. Heimerdinger seemed way too amused and happy of his little scheme.

“Any questions?”

Viktor read the subject and what you had to complete, “Do you have any books to recommend to us Professor?”

Heimerdinger's voice became a blur as your thoughts drifted like the Grey in Zaun. Every corner of this city was out to kill you, and even when you were out of it, it followed you like your shadow.

Were you ever going to get out of such a cycle, out of this city’s grasp ?

“Miss?”

The teacher's voice brought you back down to earth. Distracted, you simply offered a confused hum in question so that he would repeat his last words.

“Your assignment is due in a month. That gives you time to put your differences aside and find a way of working together. If you'll excuse me, my next class is coming up soon.”

He gestured towards the exit, and soon enough you found yourselves in the corridor. The momentary emptiness of the hall almost seemed to bring you back to reality.

You drew in a breath, meeting Viktor's gaze beside you. You couldn't afford to get a bad mark, especially not for a Heimerdinger course. He was one of the most renowned scientists in the country, with his own seat on the Piltover council. To produce mediocre work would be to end your career on the spot, and you were prepared to at least try to cooperate with someone like Viktor.

“Why are you not begging the teacher to put us both in different duos?” you asked while Viktor was still reading the subject content.

“Hm, I think it might be fun.” he said, not even glancing at you.

You scoffed, “You and me?” your trigger finger pointing back and forth between the two of you, “Together? Fun?”

His eyes dropped from the paper, scanning you with a changed interest.

“You'd rather go back in there and ask for a rematch like a loser?”

A muscle near your eye tensed for a moment.

He sighed, his eyes returning to the subject, “Admitting defeat takes strength.”

“So you think I'm weak ?”

But Viktor didn't seem to have the slightest interest in you at the moment.

You relaxed your shoulders, sighing. There was no point in trying to beat him, you weren't - on that subject at least - in competition.

“Can I see the subject?” you asked, reaching for the paper, but he removed it from your reach in an instant.

You frowned, this wasn't going to be easy.

“Do I disgust you?” he asked.

The question caught you off guard, your eyes blinking several times as you almost looked at him with fresh eyes.

If the question was purely physical, no, Viktor didn't disgust you. He was always accompanied at all times and in all places by that same invariable weariness that gave him a particular elegance. He had features common in Zaun, brown hair, amber eyes, and an accent that made some of the girls in your class drop like flies.

When it came to his character and personality though, it was another thing entirely.

“You annoy me,” you replied, managing to snatch the subject of his hand with enough agility that the gesture left him surprised, “but you don't disgust me.”

He remained silent for a moment. You could feel his eyes on you as yours fell on those of the subject.

“The only thing that disgusts me is your taste in pasta,” you confirmed.

He let out a little laugh, the kind that mixes humming and nose blowing, the kind you do when a remark makes you nostalgic.

“Friday, 5pm, library, don't be late.” he said simply, the clink of his cane echoing on the floor as he began to walk away.

As your eyes roamed over the page, you couldn't help but take in nothing of what was written. Your mind was stuck on him, on the trick Heimerdinger had just played on you.

He had just orchestrated a game that the whole school was going to bet on, the teachers were going to look at your situation in a new light, and in the worst case scenario, multiply the group work to put you both in pairs.

Your heart looped as you realised that this was undoubtedly another test. Heimerdinger was going to observe which of you was the best performer, the most pliable, the best at teamwork.

You had to be flawless, you had to.

Friday came earlier than you imagined, and you weren't looking forward to it in the least. You hadn't stopped thinking about it, finding yourself on numerous occasions distracted during your homework.

The card of the day you had drawn was Temperance, and the little booklet told you:

Alchemy. Mixing and harmonising opposing forces and concepts. Maintaining opposing ideas and encouraging complexity in life. Fusion produces evolution.

The archangel Gabriel, the angel messenger, is represented on the card. He wears the sign of the sun on his forehead. This is also the alchemist's symbol for gold. This card reflects the changing of the seasons and the adoption of new ideas. Temper in Latin is the act of repetition to invoke skill or to refine something, to make it sharper like a sword.

What a pain that was, and to think you'd have to endure this for a whole month of deep research and hours spent by his side working, together.

You dragged your feet as you made your way to the academy library.

It was a magnificent place, filled with the smell of varnished wood, old paper and dried ink. The ceiling was arched, the bookshelves forming real walls that separated the room like rows of pews in a church. If it hadn't been reserved for the academy's research students, it would surely have been on Piltover's list of monuments to visit.

There weren't many people there, apart from a small handful of students finishing their homework before basking in the arrival of the weekend. You were a good fifteen minutes early, and didn't see Viktor at all.

You were just about to put your bag and things down by a table and start your research, when a voice you wouldn't have preferred to hear at the time greeted you:

“Ah, there you are,” Viktor approached, coming out of one of the library corridors, “I just needed some help to get to the higher tomes.”

With his free hand, he held up a small stack of tomes, pressing them under his chin before placing them on a table with two or three other books already laid out.

You sighed, moving your things over to his table, “Have you been there for long already?”

“Why, do you care about me?” his cheeky grin made you roll your eyes.

“I think you overestimated my greatness. Which shelf?”

He said nothing, making his way to one of the shelves. You followed him. Fortunately, the women's uniforms at the academy had trousers. You wouldn't have known what to do if it had been otherwise and you'd ended up on a ladder above him.

“You know,” he began as you reached the meagre ladder to the upper shelves, “I've been looking forward to working with you.”

You arched an eyebrow, your hand gripping the ladder as you looked at him in confusion.

“Why?”

The two of you were only picking on each other, you were avoiding him like the plague, and you'd made it clear to him several times that your situation was that of a competition. So obviously you had a right to be surprised as to why he'd want to work with you.

He shrugged. “You were the top student before I came here, surely there must be a reason behind it.”

You expelled an abrupt puff from your lungs, your breath taken away by his insolence. You could only expect it after all.

You climbed a few steps up the ladder, looking for Zaun's historical tomes.

“Is that supposed to be a compliment, or am I to believe my working buddy seeks to diminish me to a fictive second rank?”

“We're in a library, alas, reality catches up to this fiction, miss number two.”

You clutched the volume in your hand, your nostrils flaring for a moment in anger. He knew how to annoy you, and you never seemed to find a single point on which you could reciprocate.

You held out the tomes one by one for him to take. “Guess I could work on a pet name for you too.”

“Be my guess.”

Once his arm was full, you took a few tomes in your hands before climbing down the ladder and walking towards the table. “And make you the honour of thinking of something to be done for you ? I'd rather lick sandpaper.”

He feigned disappointment, “So I do disgust you, this pains me.”

You set the pile of volumes down on the table, reaching into your bag to pull out paper and pens.

“Yeah well, You were supposed to pretend I didn't exist, not try to bother me to death. So I guess we're both disappointed.”

He took a seat, grabbing a volume and placing it in front of him. “So I bother you ?”

You sat down opposite him, imitating his gesture as you searched with interest for a tome to start with.

“What a transcending sense of observation you have.”

He brought both his hands up in front of him, resting his chin on the backs of his fingers.

“How do I bother you?”

You were starting to get annoyed by his questions. You had come here to work, not to chat.

“Your simple existence?” you replied, staring into his eyes.

He sighed, opening his book and noting on the page its title.

“As if yours wasn't proof that failure has a sense of humour.”

You said nothing, letting his comment wander in the air as you started your own research in silence, locating the chapter of interest to you in the table of contents.

“But seriously,” Viktor continued, “why do I bother you?”

You sighed, pinching the page you were on before shifting your eyes from the words on it to Viktor's curious amber gaze.

“You want an honest answer ?”

He nodded. You let go of the page, straightening up.

“You come into my life and wreck everything I've built brick by brick, wouldn't you be the slightest bit frustrated if that happened to you ?”

It was his turn to be silent this time. He seemed to look at you differently, as if, by some miracle perhaps, he'd just realised what was at stake for you in this situation.

He wasn't even touching the tip of the iceberg of why you'd come to the Academy, but for a moment he seemed to understand how important it could be for you.

Your eyes returned to your page, trying to find keywords to write down or information to record.

“You surpassed me in the exam, teachers love you, you make great friends…”

“Almost sounds like you're obsessed with me.”

Your lips parted, eyes wide as you looked at him as if he'd just slapped you, leaving your cheek and your thoughts with a warm tingle. You were so surprised that nothing came from your lips, which was beginning to be enough for a flash of mischief to cross Viktor's eyes and for the corner of his lips to form a sneer.

“I'm not.” You finally reply, trying to remain composed and not to stammer for anything in the world.

“Denial would've worked before the long vacant stare,” he says, advancing slightly on the table.

“Why do you have to be like that?”

“Like what?”

You humph, dropping back in your chair in despair.

“Better than me.”

He recoiled slightly, as if the remark was completely far-fetched and unfounded.

“There are thousands of people better than me, why do you have to focus on my poor self, hm? Did I barge in your territory?”

He had, unconsciously he truly had. It was you who was supposed to be first, otherwise the consequences would've been mentally dire.

“Take it this way,” he continued, “there's surely something you're better at than me.”

You couldn't think of much on the spot, especially not when there was a possibility of you making a list of things he topped you in. There was surely one thing though.

“Running.”

He opened his lips in surprise, a smile stretching across his face which he hid with his hand. You were already regretting what you'd just said.

“Jayce is going to be the first one hearing about this.”

“No it's-”

“So you're participating in a system made against disabilities.”

“I never-”

“Are you going to steal my crutch next in hopes of beating me to a race?”

“You're never going to drop this now are you ?”

“With such a statement ? Never.”

“Whatever let's just- let's just work.” you mumble, your cheeks flushing with embarrassment and shame as you desperately try to move on.

He gave one last chuckle before getting back to work. He seemed to be reading a tome on the history of the masters of Zaun.

“About Tytos, I still think you've got that wrong.” he said as he read another page from the tome.

“I think I'm going to smash your face in.” you replied calmly without looking at him.

“As if you could reach me.”

“You know what-” you began, raising your voice.

However, somebody shushed you in the room, restricting you to remaining calm.

“Raising your voice in a library? You'd have to be a stupid fool.”

“Trying to contradict me when even Heimerdinger considered my answer excellent is not the wisest either.”

“Heimerdinger would tell a snail that goes slightly faster than the norm it's excellent. But maybe your low self esteem is just common sense.”

“Maybe my self esteem will just leave this library right now.” you say, crossing your arms on the table.

“And leave me to pursue this matter on my own? That wouldn't be very serious, miss number two.”

You sighed, getting back to work. Your blood was boiling in your veins just from sitting at this table.

“None of the books mention Tytos.”

“Since when do you trust Piltover books on the accounts of the history of Zaun ?”

Touché. He raised his eyebrows as if it were the only relevant thing you could have said.

“You never said where you were from, in Zaun,” he remarked.

You tensed slightly. “Why do you want to know that ?”

“We're making an exposé on Zaun, we're both from there, might as well just know it,” he said, raising his eyes to yours.

You watched him for a moment, he didn't seem to want to make a joke of you once your answer was out of your mouth. But in any case, you weren't going to give it to him.

“You wouldn't know,” you replied simply as you jotted down another date.

‘I'm sure that I-”

“You don't want to know.’ you said firmly, the seriousness taking over your face to assure him that this was certainly not territory he wished to venture into.

He frowned, confused. He seemed deeply intrigued by you, and that made you uncomfortable. Never before in your life had anyone asked you so many questions about yourself in such a short space of time. And so here he was, shaking up every one of your pillars like a bowling ball knocking over pins.

This one, however, was not about to give way.

You looked at your watch for a moment, sighing.

“Let's work for one more hour. We'll make a plan and subparts of what we'll talk about at the end of it.”

This time Viktor seemed to get the message: silence. 

You couldn't help glancing at him from time to time. You noticed the way his long fingers flicked across the pages, the way his eyebrows furrowed as he read, the way he rested his cheek on the back of his hand with a sigh as he read a boring piece of writing. 

Or when he would click his pencil for a moment to write something down, and his handwriting would lie gracefully on the paper, scratching the grain of the paper.

It was not without surprise that, once the hour had passed, there was hardly anyone in the library but the two of you. 

When you explained your plan for the presentation to Viktor, he agreed, simply giving a few perfectly critical and serious remarks without condescending to him in any way.

“Good. I think this is a good time to stop for today,” you said as you stood up, taking a stack of books in your arms.

All in all, working with Viktor like this wasn't so bad, when it was done in silence. But as soon as either of you opened your lips to say anything, politeness left the room in great strides.

You put each tome away in its old place, both of you taking your things, and left the library. The academy wasn't closed yet, and some people still had classes or were hanging around in the corridors.

You walked side by side, your pace the same as Viktor's. All the students seemed to turn around as you passed, your duo seeming like a pair of circus animals. 

You glanced at Viktor, who didn't seem in the least affected by this.

However, a trio of students were watching you with evil, mocking eyes. You couldn't help but tense up, however, when the one who seemed as tall as he was stupid remarked: 

“Die already, cripple. You're slowing the traffic.”

Your shoulders tensed as you walked, expecting to do what you'd always had to do here despite the taunts: ignore and move on.

But Viktor wasn't going to listen to you like that.

“Thank you for your advice, I'll try euthanasia once you'll be able to count higher than the number of butterfingers you've got.”

A few chuckles echoed in the corridor at his reply, but the young man seemed to be boiling with hatred. It was as you passed in front of them that, in a cowardly move, he kicked Viktor's cane.

He lost his balance, falling face first to the ground as his cane fell beside him. The air stopped for a moment with the shock of the gesture, your eyes shifting from Viktor on the ground to the idiot who had just knocked him over. Students knelt down beside him immediately to help him.

“Oops, my foot slipped. Sorry.”

But nothing, of course, conveyed any regret at this behaviour.

He turned his back and walked off with his group of friends. Your blood ran cold.

Quickly, you grabbed Viktor's cane, which was still on the ground, and made it whistle through the air before it struck the back of the student's knees. It was his turn to shrivel up on the floor, and he immediately turned to you, his cheeks red with anger.

“Oops, my hand slipped,” you said, glancing at the crutch for a moment before returning to him. “Sorry.”

You turned back to Viktor, handing him his crutch. He looked at you with fried whiting eyes, deeply surprised by your gesture without moving a muscle.

“You fucking slut…” you heard behind you.

But as soon as you turned around, a sharp blow hit you in the cheek. The force of it knocked you back two steps, a metallic taste spreading through your mouth. You brought your fingers to your lips, hissing as you touched them, your bottom lip burning. Bringing your fingers back into line of sight, you found them bloodied.

You turned to the student, his face far too satisfied for your liking.

‘’What a brilliant idea,‘’ you breathed as, in one swift movement, you struck his crotch with the crutch.

He bent over instinctively, gasping for breath, before you punched him right in the nose. He fell, cowering on the ground like a miserable insect.

"What's going on here?" asked a stern voice.

Madame Agrane, one of your teachers, came into the corridor. Her eyes fell on Viktor on the floor, your lip split, the student on the ground surrounded by his two friends.

“Everyone in my office, now.”

You pressed a bag of ice cubes to your cheek, sitting next to Viktor who was clutching his crutch in his hands. As for the idiot, he kept grumbling and giving you nasty looks. You recognised him now, the student from the museum, the one that had called zaunites rats.

"Can someone explain to me what happened for you all to end up in such states?" questioned Agrane.

You were about to start but the idiot beat you to it.

"Madame Agrane, I was just minding my own business in the corridor when these two pupils came up to me! One was hitting me with his crutch while the other was punching me. I don't know what I've done to deserve this.' He exclaimed theatrically, Viktor and you looking at him like the most ridiculous being to ever be.

If there was one thing that helped your reputation, it was that you were known as serious students, who didn't fall into the category of those who would start a fight in the corridors for no particular reason.

"That is far from the truth," Viktor retorted calmly. "He insulted me, then made me fall, and then...’

He seemed to be hesitating over his words, or at least looking for the right term. He turned to you, letting his eyes drift for a moment to your split lip, and then back to Madame Agrane's gaze.

"... My friend protected me."

Friend? the word made you clench your jaw, inhaling. It was just a lie, just a word brought to the front to give your teacher sympathy. No, he certainly didn't mean it.

The teacher looked at you, seeming more convinced by your story than the other. Noticing this, the student couldn't help but plead his own case: 

"Madam, these two students come from Zaun. The blood of violence will always run in their veins."

Agrane seemed to give you a new look, as if you and Viktor were ready to pounce on her like two wolves.

"Is this a joke? You started all this," you said, offended.

"Beating you up would have brought greatness to Piltover." he replied.

"Oh, look at you, attempting greatness! Pity it's just an attempt." you sighed, pressing the ice pack a little closer to your cheek to put out the fire your anger was beginning to spread.

"Madam Agrane," he continued, turning to her, "you know what my patron will think about this. Imagine his reaction when he will hear how you have treated his favoured student?"

You had no idea who his patron could possibly have been, but she didn't hesitate for a second to say: 

"Miss, you'll get an hour's detention for your violent behaviour in the corridors. I hope I don't have to catch you again doing such barbaric acts."

Your eyes widened just as much as Viktor's.

"What?! But he's the one who-" you tried, pointing at the idiot who was smiling victoriously.

"There's no buts about it. The discussion is closed. You'll have your detention period this Monday."

"Madam, I think there's been a mistake." Viktor began.

"Do you want to be given detention too, young man?"

Viktor remained silent, sighing before lowering his eyes to the ground.

"Good, see you on Monday, then."

The fool stood up first, walking past you with a foolish grin on his face.

"Bet it feels just like home to be in prison by monday, hm?"

Your lip hemmed in disgust, your nose scrunching up.

"Try what you've done just once more, and I'll personally make sure you have no offspring."

He looked slightly frightened for a moment, then frowned like a child before leaving the room.

You sighed, standing up. You wanted to get out of here right away, away from the horrible feeling of injustice in your heart, away from the word ‘punishment’ burning into your skin.

Your free hand instinctively came to rest on your shoulder for comfort, and you stood up to get your things.

“You didn’t have to do this earlier, you know.” Viktor said.

You sighed, walking towards the door. “Whatever, what is done is done.”

"Hey," Viktor said, standing up behind you.

You didn't even turn to him.

"Thanks, I wasn't expecting that at all."

You waited for something, for anything that would come after what he had just said, but nothing came. Your turned to him.

"Is that all? No remarks about how I'd have been better off hitting him somewhere else, or stupid sarcasm about my action?"

He seemed surprised by your reaction, his face puzzled and almost saddened.

"We're not friends." you said, your face as cold as the ice pack on your cheek. "We're..."

But what were you apart from rivals? Two rivals working together to do a job that would rely on both of you, that wasn't really rivalry. It was camaraderie in a way, you were classmates, but friends?

You pursed your lips, a slight trickle of blood beading from them.

"See you next week."

Without further ado, you left the room. You walked down the corridors, the students staring at you like an alien. You were suffocating under all those sharp, curious, numerous stares. You pressed on, leaving the academy as quickly as possible.

Once outside, you took the first quiet alley you could find.

“Shit!” you swore, pressing your back against the first wall you could find.

You brought your hand up to your forehead, sighing until you almost felt your body slide down the wall, running your palm over your face in frustration and exhaustion.

You wanted to cry, the weight of everything feeling like it was zipping up on you like a body bag. You'd been stupid, acting on your emotions. You should have kept your head down, let the administration do its job, not invented a life of heroism trying to redress the balance that some fool had tipped.

You didn't even like Viktor, but you'd still jumped at the chance to do him justice. No, you didn't like Viktor any more than that.

But you respected him.

Could you be friends with him?

The question passed through your mind for a moment, but you ended up putting it out of your mind.

You let your head fall back against the wall. The thought of an hour's detention in your perfect record seemed to you like a thread sticking out of a beautiful dress, itching to be pulled on. You tried to console yourself, to come to terms with the fact that it was just another hour of extra study. But you couldn't help feeling heavy with pain.

Eventually you gathered up your things and walked home, hoping that the cool night air would help to quench the fire that was still boiling inside you. Winter was on your doorstep, and ready to complicate things.

✦﹒previous chapter 　　　　　　 ✦﹒next chapter

[sleepymarimo]

A TAMA...WHAT? - TOJI FUSHIGURO

"toji. if anything happens to my tamagotchi while i'm gone, i'm actually never talking to you again."

"...huh?"

: ̗̀➛ 1.2k cw: none! silly goofy fun, tamagotchi death :'(

the sorcerer killer isn't sure what to do with the small device in his hand, which looks a little too colorful for his liking. too flashy. when you'd called him a few hours ago to tell him you needed a favor, he didn't expect to be a damn babysitter to a pixelated pet for a whole week.

he would've declined, maybe suggest a "compromise", but you seemed a little too serious about your threat of not speaking to him ever again.

and, despite his best effort to maintain a nonchalant front, he knew that he wasn't going to take that risk.

you'd let him stay at your place, a nice perk, so now he lays back on your couch and fiddles with the buttons while watching the small pet eat or play or even work. how does this thing have more of a stable life than he does?

lips set into a focued pout, those big digits of his nearly crush the poor buttons into dust. "the hell do you want now?" he growls, having just set down the device to watch a boat race on t.v.

toji's never been intimidated by new jobs, by thinking outside the box, but at this moment he'd rather be taking on a horde of curses.

yet... he kind of gets the hang of it. maybe a little too much.

by day three of his tamagotchi journey, he feels pretty confident about taking care of the pet. pride surges through his veins when he checks all the stats and sees no issue, the tamagotchi thriving under his care.

he becomes a little too obsessed with the toy sometimes.

shiu, on a call with the assassin, finds himself having to pause when he swears he hears this constant beeping in the background.

"fushiguro-"

"just hold on," toji interrupts, the phone resting on the table while he works on the tamagotchi. "this thing is sick as shit. i gotta give it medicine."

the mediator isn't even sure what to say at that, a part of him wondering if his mind is playing tricks on him. "i thought you were just going to get her a new one. you're still keeping up with that thing?" shiu asks into the receiver, holding the phone between his shoulder and ear as he reaches for a cigarette and lighter.

another few beeps can be heard through the phone, then a relieved sigh. "fuck no. and m'not 'keeping up'," toji specifies, almost offended. "m'owning this piece of crap. it's easy work."

on the other end of the phone, shiu finds solace in a deep inhale of cigarette smoke. luckily, he's able to get toji on a pretty good gig with the promise of outstanding pay.

even during the meeting a couple days later, the sorcerer killer is brushing off high end clients as soon as he hears that damn beeping. "gimme a minute," he gruffly says, before mumbling in a more hushed tone. "s'fucking needy..."

raising one hand as if he's putting a simple pause on the conversation, he uses the other to click click click until he deems the virtual pet satisfied.

meanwhile, shiu is embarrassed as hell and makes an effort not to look the client in the eyes.

content enough, toji places the tamagotchi back in his pocket with a gentleness that he doesn't usually, if ever, displays. "a'right. so how much are ya paying again?"

...

by the time you arrive home a day later, exhausted from a flight and too many train rides, you're ready to be reunited with your virtual companion.

"okay toji," you call out, the door shutting behind you with a click. "where's mimitchi?"

you hear his heavy steps before you see him, his frame rather... rigid. "well hey to you too," he greets, stopping just before you and giving your form a quick once over. "and who the hell is mimitchi?"

sighing, you give him a proper hello before looking at him a little suspiciously. "that's the tamagotchi. mimitchi is her name," you explain, starting to tap your foot. where was it? "so...?"

his eyes momentarily widen, like he's genuinely surprised. "huh? it's a girl? and that's her name? what the hell..."

while it's a funny sight, you don't stop giving him that pointed look. your arms even cross, indicating that you really weren't in the mood.

toji scoffs at your little display, shrugging his shoulders. "i lost it," he replies. "must've fell out of my pocket or something..."

your heart drops. "you what? seriously? toji!" a pout settles on your lips, sincere disappointment written all over your features.

does he feel bad? yes, he does. with a sigh, he steps closer and wraps his arm around you, placing it on your lower back. he's shitty with words, but he knows how to ground you.

"look, sweetheart, i'll get you another one," he starts, his words making your heart feel a little more light. "tomorrow we can-"

breep! beep beep beep!

breep! beep beep beep!

while you freeze, toji's hand goes straight to his pocket. "shit, i thought it fucking silenced it."

jaw dropping, you look up at him as if he's just stabbed you in the back. hell, he might as well have!

"are you serious?" you chuff, not believing his audacity. your hand reaches for his pocket, but he's quick to pull out the tamagotchi and hold it out of your reach. "oh, you asshole! i can't believe you."

caught in the act, he allows himself to scowl just the smallest bit. "y'the one who left her," he points out, as if he has a say in how to be a present parent. "i'm just stepping up."

your offended gasp triggers a chuckle from him. reaching for the tamagotchi again, you whine when he moves it even further from you.

the back and forth lasts for a while, until a truce is made.

sitting on the couch, you hold the device and check up on mimitchi, who seems to actually be in pretty good condition. you're thoroughly impressed, even letting him know so.

"you're still a jerk for lying," you point out, sure that you weren't going to drop that anytime soon. he just shrugs, acknowledging his wrongs but not really apologizing, as per his usual style.

however, seeing that your beloved mimitchi is already retired and aging... you decide to let him have her. if he wanted the full tamagotchi experience, he was going to get it.

so, while he smugly pockets the toy once more, you just wait.

that moment comes a whole two days later, the day starting off just like any other. in your room, the morning light barely shining through your window, you wake in time to hear those dreaded sounds that no tamagotchi owner wants to hear.

beep...beep...beep...

then, you hear toji abruptly sitting up on the couch, pushing buttons left and right. "not a fucking chance..." he mumbles, surely not expecting a cute toy to have such an abrupt end.

you can only muffle your laughs as he stands, those heavy steps of his coming straight for your door to demand an explanation.

an: lol this idea came into my mind and i just had to get it out. hope you enjoyed bc i kinda laughed writing it:')

[killerlookz]

She Makes Dirty Words Sound Pretty: Pt. II | Joost Klein

Description: Joost Klein x f! reader (part two to this fic here) Joost returns home from tour, and he and reader finally get to rekindle their relationship with some much-needed make up sex.

Content: 18+ nsfw, mdni- rpf smut, oral (f! recieving), fingering, unprotected PiV, allusions to past angst/relationship issues but mostly just comfort/fluff

Word count: 4,379

Your eyes flutter as a soft touch against your cheek pulls awake you from your unconscious state. Heavy eyelids prying themselves open, fighting against the weight of sleep. Your bedroom is drenched in moonlight, providing just enough clarity to identify the figure that stands above you.

"Joost?" Your straining voice thick with sleep as your eyebrows furrow, confused, but you'd be lying if you said a smile wasn't tugging at the corners of your lips.

"Oh," He responds, lips just above your forehead, "Schatje, I didn't mean to wake you." His voice soft and apologetic.

"No," You mumble, heart pumping, far too ecstatic for your exhausted state, "You're home?" You outstretch a lazy arm, reaching for the lamp on your bedside table so you can actually see the man you're talking to. With a click, the room is enveloped in a soft orange glow. Your eyelids snap shut at the initial brightness, too harsh for your eyes, sensitive from sleep.

Last you heard, Joost wasn't supposed to be home from tour until tomorrow evening. Not that you could complain about his early appearance, it had been a hard few weeks without him.

You stare at the man above you, his glasses hanging down his nose, exposing his eyes, the pale skin surrounding them seeming darker than usual with hints of purple, his hair, messy. He looked exhausted, you figured it had been a while since he had gotten a good night's sleep.

"I was able to get an earlier flight." A small smile appears on his lips as he slowly stands up from the position where he hovers over you.

"Didn't tell me." You pout

"I didn't want you waiting up for me." His head falls to the side, apologetically.

"No? Just going to hover over me in the dark at-whatever time in the morning it is."

Joost shakes his head, chuckling,

"You make it sound so creepy."

"It is a little creepy," You giggle, "Waking up to some guy hanging above my face."

"Just giving you a kiss goodnight."

"Then why don't you come to bed?" You ask, patting the empty space next to you.

It was then that you had realized perhaps subconsciously you had been leaving room for Joost in bed every night. It had been over a month since you had last shared a bed, and yet still you had continued to sleep on "your" side of the bed, not allowing yourself to sprawl out.

"A few minutes, okay?"

You nod, your head falling to the side, still sleepy.

You manage to keep your eyes open, however, as you watch Joost walk away from you. You track his movements with your eyes, your gaze not leaving his body as he walks about the room.

There had been a lingering tension in the room, one that lightly dulled your excitement of having Joost home. Many words had been left unsaid between the two of you, having thought it better to push aside discussing those tumultuous first few weeks he had been away until Joost had gotten home. Neither of you wanted to deal with emotions getting lost or misunderstood over the phone anymore, both you and Joost wanted to fix your relationship, not continue the cycle of arguments you had unfortunately fallen into.

Still, things had been amicable between you, being able to hold conversations like normal- but, that gnawing feeling of obvious feelings having been unspoken did not cease.

Despite the tension, your heart still flutters as you watch Joost undress on the other side of the bedroom, stripping down to only his boxers. A smile grazes his lips as he looks up at you, catching you staring at him. You smile back, unashamed of how hard you had been looking.

"Be right there," The grin lingers on his face as he goes to toss his clothes into the closet. You take this moment to turn off the lamp beside you, the room once again now only lit by moonlight.

Moments later he's walking back toward the bed, the mattress dipping as he climbs in next to you.

Immediately, the two of you are meeting in the middle of the bed, wrapping a leg around his as you pull yourself near him, his arm snaking around your waist. You close your eyes as your lips meet his in a gentle kiss, so soft yet still filled with so many emotions. Joost grips you tighter, holding you firmly against his,

"I missed you," He mumbles, pulling away only slightly, his lips still ghosting yours as he speaks.

"I missed you too." It wasn't solely a physical missing him, but missing the Joost before tour, the Joost before the arguments and nights ridden with anger and spite. But as you lay in each other's arms, it feels as if you already have that Joost back, the Joost that wouldn't ever dare to hurt your feelings, not even in the slightest, "I'm glad you're home."

It felt ridiculous even saying having that Joost back, he had never left, and deep down you knew it, under no circumstances would either of you truly intentionally hurt each other.

You feel Joost's chest rising against yours before he lets out a large exhale.

"Mmm," He hums, nuzzling his face into your cheek, "Ik ben zo blij om thuis te zijn." (I'm so glad to be home), A small kiss is placed against your jaw before Joost speaks again, his words becoming slower, "Met mijn lieve meisje" (With my sweet girl)

"You're exhausted." You giggle, Joost had a habit of mixing up languages once he got to a certain point of tired, often speaking in some combination of English and Dutch, but it seemed now he had forgotten English entirely, "Prober wat te slapen." (try to get some sleep),

"Ahh," Joost's breath tickles your neck as he exhales, "You should speak Dutch more, zo mooi klinkt." (sounds so pretty)

You can't help but feel a little bad, your usage of Dutch in day-to-day life hadn't exactly been nearly as much as it should have been for someone with a Dutch boyfriend, living in the Netherlands. Despite the length the two of you had been together, and how long you had been living here you had yet to feel confident enough to use it so often.

You simply hum in response, unsure of what to say as you snuggle up closer to Joost, burying your head in his neck, and wrapping an arm around his torso. You had missed this closeness, realizing just how much you craved his touch as Joost's arm snakes up under the T-shirt you had been wearing, feeling his palm grip your now-exposed skin.

"Hold on," You mumble, sneaking out of Joost's grip, grabbing at the bottom of your shirt, pulling it over your head. You toss the fabric somewhere in the room, leaving both of you clad only in your underwear.

The two of you were long past the point in your relationship of there being any shame or shyness around nudity. There was nothing inherently sexual about your decision to further undress, rather the move was done solely due to your desire for skin-to-skin contact with Joost.

As you go to lay back down, Joost turns on his side, pressing his chest to your now bare back. His skin is soft, the warmth of his body heat exuding a familiar warmth as he presses his face into your neck. He wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you close to him.

"Slaap lekker, ik hou van jou." (Sleep tight, I love you.) Joost mumbles into your ear, and you can tell sleep is quickly overtaking him.

"Ik hou ook van jou." (I love you too.)

You wake up with a low groan, immediately noticing the sharp pain in your neck as you attempt to change your position.

"Ugh," You moan at the sensation, eyes fluttering open.

"Hmm?" You hear a hum from next to you, remembering that Joost had come home last night.

Inhaling deeply you turn your whole body to the side, wincing at the way your neck aches with your movements.

Your boyfriend lies next to you, awake, but his eyelids are still heavy as he looks at you. You forget the pain you're in for just a moment as you admire his peaceful state, his face illuminated by the soft orange glow of sunlight.

"What's wrong?" He asks, voice thick with sleep.

"Slept weird." You furrow your eyebrows, "My neck really hurts."

"Mijn arme meisje," (My poor girl) He pouts, "C'mon," He stretches a hand to your waist, "Roll over, maybe a massage will help."

Wordlessly, you comply, rolling onto your stomach, trying to adjust yourself comfortably against the pillows, tilting your head to the side so as to not suffocate yourself.

The bed dips as Joost moves from his position, a hand grazing your thigh, motioning you to pull your legs apart so he can sit between them.

You can feel Joost hovering above you as he kneels between your legs, his presence is a comforting one.

"Good morning," He mumbles, leaning forward, pressing a kiss to your exposed shoulder blade.

"Morning." You respond, silently hoping for him to kiss you more. But soon enough his thumbs press against the back of your neck, the rest of your fingers just barely resting against your throat as he softly massages the spot where you're sore.

A small gasp leaves your mouth at the sensation, your eyes forcing themselves shut.

"That feel okay?" Joost asks, a tinge of concern in his voice.

"Perfect." You sigh, letting yourself enjoy his touch.

He continues for a little while longer, gentle moans leaving your mouth as he soothes your pain with the palms of his hand. After a few minutes of silence, Joost speaks again,

"Are things okay- between us? You've been short with me since I got back."

"Oh," You exhale, "-M'just tired." It's only partially the truth, you know you can't skirt around having to discuss the issues the pair of you had had at the beginning of tour for much longer, but you're hoping to divert the conversation for just a little bit more so you can revel in this moment, "We can talk about everything later. Let's just enjoy our morning"

"Okay," Joost's voice barely above a whisper, "Want me to go lower?" His hands trailing down to your shoulders.

"Mhm," You hum.

Joost kneads into the skin of your shoulders, eliciting more moans and sighs from you. His touch is just firm enough to be effective, yet still gentle, romantic.

He continues massaging down your back as you're enveloped in a comfortable silence. All tension seems to be erased from your body as Joost works his hands against you. There's no stress, no worries, only him and his reassuring touch.

Joost finds himself sliding his hands down your hips and to your thighs. He grips each thigh with one hand, his fingers pressing into the supple flesh. A familiar tightness creeps between your legs as you realize where he has positioned himself, and how close to your inner thighs his thumbs are.

You sigh as your back arches into his touch, forcing his hands a little further up your thighs. Joost continues his movements, his fingers inching closer, and closer to the inside of your legs.

"Like that?" He asks, his voice making it evident he already knows the answer.

"Yes." Is just about all you can manage out.

Joost swipes a thumb across the crotch of your panties, shivers running down your spine as he does so.

"How about if I touch you here?" He presses his thumb right above your clothed entrance, "Would you like that?"

"Please," You strain, your inner thighs pulsing with a growing arousal.

Joost's thumb ghosts over the fabric of your panties a couple times, swiping back and forth, teasingly, before pulling them to the side.

You gasp as the cold air from your bedroom meets your now exposed wetness before Joost slides a thumb through your folds, gathering your arousal before pressing on your clit. He draws circles against the sensitive nerves, coaxing gentle moans from you.

You need him terribly, as enjoyable as phone sex had been while he was away on tour, nothing could ever compare to the real thing. Sometimes it felt like Joost knew your body better than you did yourself, always able to make you feel a sort of pleasure you hadn't known was possible.

"Lay on your back," Joost commands, his voice still gentle. You do exactly as he says, whining a little at the loss of stimulation as his hand leaves your crotch.

You lay flat against the bed, staring up at the ceiling as Joost's fingers find themselves in the waistband of your panties, sliding them down the length of your legs and discarding them across the room.

Perched between your legs, Joost motions you to bend them, putting you on full display for him.

"So pretty," He muses as his eyes trail your naked figure. His small praise has your body hot as you position your gaze towards him.

His tongue swipes across his lips as he stares down at you, eyes aflame with desire. You had never seen a picture so perfect, the way that the warm glow of the sun seeped into your bedroom, illuminating him just right. You marveled at the man in front of you, even after years it had felt unbelievable that he was yours.

Joost leans forward, letting his hands rest on your thighs, pulling them apart. Soon his lips are pressed to your abdomen, soft kisses being littered against your skin before they eventually trail lower. One final kiss is placed just above your clit, forcing your back to arch as you all but beg for him.

A smirk graces Joost's mouth before his tongue leaves his lips, softly licking at you, forcing a sharp, "Oh," to leave you.

His tongue circles around your clit a few more times before being replaced with his lips, sucking at the bundle of nerves.

Each new movement of his mouth against you has you whining with pure delight, his tongue slowly trailing down to your entrance before dipping inside.

"Fuck.' You sputter, your hands finding their way into his hair. Joost's tongue flattens against your cunt, licking a long stripe from your entrance to your clit, before pressing a kiss to it. The sensation has you gripping at the messy blonde strands of his hair, causing Joost to groan. The vibration his low voice makes against your pussy causes your abdomen to tighten, and your body to twitch in pure delight.

He pulls back for just a second, making you whimper at the lack of stimulation,

"Taste so good, schatje," He mumbles, pressing a kiss to your inner thigh, "God, I missed this- missed your pussy."

His sweet words only make your body grow hotter, tingling with fervent arousal.

He continues to work his tongue against your cunt, skillful licks followed by sporadic kisses. The pleasure you feel is so intense that it is almost painful, loud, high-pitched moans now replace your soft whines.

Joost's lips envelop your clit, sucking at the swollen bud, his mouth is warm, wet, and unrelenting against your sensitive nerves, and you feel your legs trembling, you know you're close.

Your fingers grip Joost's hair, tight, as the stimulation almost becomes too much to bear.

"So close," You whine, but Joost doesn't seem to acknowledge your words, only continuing to push you closer to completion with his mouth. You rock your lips against Joost's face, forcing his tongue further onto you.

Your eyes force themselves shut as you feel your orgasm crashing into you, no words can escape your mouth, only strained noises as your toes curl, muscles tense, and legs twitch. Your cunt spasms under the pressure of Joost's warm mouth, your arousal spilling out of you and onto his tongue.

Joost doesn't spare a single drop as your orgasm rolls over you, the intense wave slowly subsiding as your eyes flutter open. Still, Joost's tongue remains buried inside of you, collecting your release. His lingering licks force a strained whine out of you, sore with overstimulation.

Joost eventually pulls back from you, his wet lips trailing kisses on your thighs before raising his head completely.

You struggle to catch your breath as Joost's head emerges from between your thighs, sitting up, a grin pressed against his lips, glossy from you.

You swallow thickly as you look down his body, noticing the way his cock strains against the tightness of his underwear, the white fabric spearing no detail about how he was feeling.

If he were to touch you now you'd surely cry from overstimulation, yet- somehow it seemed to be all you wanted- him, buried deep inside you.

Joost rests a hand on your thigh before turning a sympathetic gaze to you,

"Too tired to continue?"

"No," You shake your head.

"Good," His lips curling into a smirk, "I know you can hold out a little longer for me."

You nod, affirming his words,

"Need you, please." You whine, staring right at him, your sore legs parting once more as you speak.

Joost lurches forward, holding himself above you with his arms positioned on either side of you. He lowers himself slightly to press a kiss to your lips. You moan at the lingering taste of your release on him.

His kisses trail to your neck, sucking softly against your beating pulse. Your desperate hands roam his body, aching just to feel him.

"You know I love you, right?" He mumbles against your neck.

"Mhm," You sigh, content, "I love you too."

He lifts his head from where it is buried against you, looking straight down at you once more, shaking his head,

"I don't ever want to lose you, liefje." He speaks in earnest, eyes widening. Your heart feels like it's skipping beats as his intense gaze lingers on you, drawing out those feelings you had been keeping unsaid.

"I know," You whisper, "We're going to be okay." You nod, you know it. Joost nods with you, his gaze softening as he lowers a kiss to your cheek.

"You don't know how bad I've wanted his," Joost's voice is suddenly low, seductive.

"I think I do," You smirk, "And I think I may want this even more."

"Yeah," He breathes, "Why don't you show me then, mooi meisje" (pretty girl)

Joost rolls over, landing on his back, causing the bed to bounce slightly. You straddle Joost's legs, fingers trembling with excitement as they tease the waistband of his boxers.

You lean forward, pressing kisses to his stomach, eventually leading down to the elastic of his underwear. You can feel his breathing deepen as your lips grace his waist

You let your hand fall from where it toyed with the elastic, your palm rolling over his crotch. You feel his cock twitch under your light touch. You flick your eyes up to him, where he lays, propped up on the pillows, mouth open slightly.

You smirk as you continue to palm him through his boxers, his hips beginning to buck into your hand.

"Come on, schatje." He just about begs, hips stuttering forward. A smirk graces your lips, "Fuck, come on, I need you."

There's something of a desperation in his voice, his blatant desire for you just about knocking the wind out of you. Yes, teasing him was fun... but fucking him was definitely way better.

You bite your lip, your head lowering in a slow nod as your fingers return back to the waistband of his boxers as you begin to tug them down. He doesn't hesitate to help you out, lifting his back just slightly so you're able to pull them down his thighs, his hard cock springing from the confines of the fabric.

You give him a sheepish smile as his back returns to the mattress, leaning forward once more and wrapping your hand around the base of his cock. Your firm grip causes him to grasp as you slowly begin to pump your hand up and down the shaft.

Joost's head tips back as you continue to work your hand up and down his cock. You feel your own arousal growing as you watch his face, his jaw clenching as struggled groans leave his mouth.

"Stop that," He breathes out, "Come here, want you on top of me." He beckons.

You remove your hand from him, slowly crawling up the length of his body before stopping, now straddling his upper thighs. Joost flicks his head up, motioning for you to continue. You sit up, positioning yourself above him.

"That's it," He purrs as you grab the base of his cock, lining him up with your entrance. The head grazes your wet folds, causing you to gasp, only craving him more. You look back up at Joost, waiting for permission to continue. He nods fervently, "Go on, I know you want it."

"Yeah," You sigh, maintaining eye contact with him as you begin to sink down on him. Your lips purse, forming a straight line, eyes squeezing shut as he begins to stretch you out, and you take your time to fully take him in.

"Fuck, liefje," Joost groans as he bottoms out into you.

"You want me to go faster?"

"No," Joost breathes out, "No this is perfect, take it slow, schatje, enjoy the moment."

You're fine with that, slowly raising your hips until only the tip of his cock is in you, before sinking down onto Joost once more.

Joost sits up, grabbing your hips to help guide you at a steady pace that feels good for both of you. But it's not long before his hands leave your hips, palms sliding up and down your body, the pads of his fingers grabbing at you, groping wherever he can get his hands on.

"Joost," You whine as he hits that perfect spot inside you, "Oh, fuck, Joost."

"Feels good?" He asks, knowingly, his breathing heavy, "It's like you were made for me- fuck, you were made for me." He remarked at how perfect you felt around him.

All you can respond with is a series of sloppy moans and whines, the feeling of him inside you making your brain go numb.

"That's it," He groans, "Use that pretty voice, show me how good you feel."

Joost settles his grip on your ass, his dull fingernails digging into your flesh, pinching just enough to elicit a delightful sting. Joost's handle on you once again helps you maintain a steady pace as your legs begin to tire, muscles starting to burn from your consistent movement. To further help you, he begins bucking his hips in time with your movement, thrusting into you as you sink down onto him.

The way he repeatedly hits inside you makes it hard for you to concentrate, your only focus is on the overwhelming amount of pleasure you feel, each thrust forward coaxing you closer to another orgasm.

You begin to fall forward, your head resting on Joost's shoulder, as your chest collides into his. Your bodies are hot, sticky with a thin sheen of sweat, and the heat he gives off is almost unbearable as you rest against him. But the rest of your body is far too overwhelmed to sit up straight

"I love you," You slur out against his neck, dizzy off adoration and pleasure.

"I love you too, liefje," His hands lose their grip on your ass, instead his arms coming around to hold you at the waist. Joost places small kisses on your shoulder as your movements quicken, losing any pace, "I love you so much." He reiterates.

You're close, heat building in your abdomen as every muscle in your body constricts. You know you can't hold on much longer, your orgasm about to hit you at any moment now.

"I'm gonna-" You sputter, unable to finish your sentence as its broken by a sharp moan, your cunt clenching as an intense wall of pleasure smacks right into you. Your eyes flutter, your whole body twitching as your pussy spasms around Joost's cock, causing him to groan, your movements becoming sloppier as your release spills out of you, lewd, wet sounds filling the room.

"Good," Joost exhales, "Cum all over my cock, liefje."

Your orgasm soon disappears as Joost continues to thrust upwards into you, pleasure soon turning into overstimulation as you slump completely into him.

"Not much longer," He reassures, "You're doing so good."

Tears begin to spill down your cheeks at the feeling, your already sensitive nerves being worked to the extreme.

Joost's hips start to staccato, his thrusts becoming sharp, causing you to yelp into the spot where your head is buried into his neck. He grips you tighter, feeling like he's about to suffocate you before with a last grunt he's spilling into you, warm ribbons of cum coating the walls of your cunt with a few final thrusts.

Your body is trembling as you attempt to lift yourself up from where you lay against Joost, your body still tingling with lingering pleasure. Your eyelids are low as you look at Joost, your face carrying an entirely blissed-out expression.

A smile falls on Joost's lips,

"Oh," He chuckles, a hand coming up to wipe the tears from your cheek, "These are the only tears I ever want to make you cry."

You return a smile to him before his expression changes,

"Het spijt me, schatje" (I'm sorry, baby), His words are full of regret, "I'm so sorry for how things have been."

"I know," Your voice barely a whisper, "I'm sorry too."

"Things will be better, now that I'm home," He presses a kiss to your shoulder, "I promise."

"I know- I know they will," You nod.

If there was anything you knew for certain, you knew that you and Joost loved each other too much to stop fighting for your relationship. A rough patch of a few weeks had been nothing in comparison to the countless happy memories the two of you shared.

"Ik hou van jou, liefje," Another kiss to your shoulder, "Don't ever forget that."

[yanderes-galore]

Yan!Heian!Sukuna and with Y/N?

Lately, whenever Darling got pregnant she ended up having countless miscarriages, the longest lasting at least 3 months, Sukuna began to suspect these countless coincidences.

He doesn't care about these losses since he didn't want to share Y/N with some brat, but he found it very strange that every time she got pregnant resulted in a miscarriage, so he started investigating and finally found out why this was happening.

He discovered that Y/N was causing her own miscarriages, as she knew that the last thing the world needed was Sukuna's descendants, so he finally confronts her but with that damn psychological terror that he loves to do to her.

I wasn't sure if you were just putting an idea out there or not... But I can see if I can write something small for this, sure!

Infertile Falsehoods

Yandere! Heian Era! Sukuna Short

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Female Darling, Obsession, Pregnancy/Miscarriages, Mentions of abortion/Forced miscarriage, Possessive behavior, Dark themes, Blood, Manipulation, Mature themes, Spicy scenes, Threats, Implied threat of forced pregnancy, Forced relationship.

The lie you originally told your husband was that you were simply unable to carry.

You are one of the wives of Lord Ryomen Sukuna, The King of Curses. Despite him having many, you always seemed to be the favored one. You were always the one to warm his bed the most, the one he clung to even after such an act.

Naturally, pregnancy often comes up in your life. Sukuna always seemed dismissive of it, not seeming to care much about descendants. Yet he also never tried to remove such an issue.

Part of you wonders if it gives him pride to see you in such a position... To show to others he's the one to claim you.

You were never on board with carrying the demon's descendants. You hate Sukuna, you've hated him since he pressured you into a marriage you didn't want. No one deserved to be burdened with his spawn.

Which led to your frequent miscarriages.

Whenever you notice signs of being pregnant, you'd order specific herbs to be brought to you in private. While Sukuna wasn't with you, no doubt fighting or playing with some other human toy, you use the herbs to make tea or syrup. Then, quickly and out of sight, you take it.

Hours later you're a bloody mess... but heir free.

You have servants clean you, often telling them you simply can't carry. You spread the lie that you're infertile. That you aren't capable of carrying his heirs.

Sukuna, again, didn't seem to mind such losses. If anything he seemed pleased to not have a child. However... It happened so often that it was almost suspicious.

Your miscarriages were often reported to him. Something just didn't seem right. But for a long time he accepted it.

Until he caught wind of the herb issue.

Eventually some Sukuna loyalists would uncover your lie. Soon it would come to light that your miscarriages were... self-inflicted. It was bound to happen eventually...

You already knew you were done for the moment Sukuna stalked into the room he made you two share.

At first, it's just like any night with Sukuna. You're sitting on his bed while he stands in front of you. You expect him to do the usual ritual you do... especially when he leans you down.

Your lord and husband leans over you as you lay on the bed. You're used to this, watching him as one set of hands lays by your head... while the second set wraps around your waist.

Until...

"It's on purpose, isn't it?" Sukuna muses, the purr of his voice nearly making your heart stop.

"What is, my husband?" You try to play dumb, but Sukuna's grin is taunting you.

"Your miscarriages? The servants talk, wife. I know your little schemes." Sukuna accuses, once of his hands stroking your stomach gently. "You aren't infertile. We both know that."

It's suddenly hard to breathe under your husband as he teases you. He doesn't seem... mad. But it only proves you can't hide anything from him....

"You've been asking servants to bring you herbs to miscarry. I'm not stupid, girl." Sukuna clicks his tongue. "I don't care for heirs... The thought of your attention being focused on a brat is annoying... but my irritation isn't about that..."

A clawed hand wraps around your throat while another holds your hands above your head. He's always been stronger... always been larger....

He's always scared you when he cages you in.

"My issue is your disobedience." Sukuna scolds. "As my favorite wife, you are meant to be loyal and transparent... not sneak around."

"I'm sorry, my lord—!" You try to plead, yet Sukuna's grip tightens.

"You're scared of carrying my heirs, aren't you?" Sukuna growls, holding you tightly as he straddles you. "Maybe a proper punishment would be making you carry one... How's that sound?"

You shake your head, making Sukuna laugh.

"So cute when you're scared... You're lucky I don't like to share with you..." Sukuna murmurs, breath ghosting over your face. "I don't like the idea of all your attention going to a brat of my blood for legacy or what not... but I hate disobedience even more...."

Sukuna chuckles when he sees the fear on your face, loosening his grip to caress your cheek.

"Tell you what... Beg me for forgiveness tonight... Show me you're sorry." Sukuna taunts as he nibbles your neck, his many eyes glancing at you.

"Show me you mean your apology... and maybe I won't make you carry an heir... think you can do that?" Sukuna grins with sadism dripping from his tone.

Fearfully, you brace yourself for what's to come... You tell yourself you're lucky Sukuna's being merciful with you...

Yet as the night goes on with him ... you begin to wonder if he means his words... or if he'll truly use tonight as punishment for his favorite wife.

[xomakara]

Making Music

SUMMARY |  You and Johnny are rival music professors who are forced to work together on a joint project. Through the process, you get to know each other better, eventually giving into the attraction you have for each other.

PAIRINGS | Johnny x Reader

GENRE |  college!professor!Johnny, college!professor!Reader, college au, co-worker trope, rivals to lovers, smut

CONTENT/WARNINGS | profanity/strong language, drinking, protected sex (wrap it up ya’ll!), slight fingering, dirty talk, oral sex (f. and m. receiving/giving), praise kink, pet names, couch sex, multiple positions

RATING | Mature, NSFW, EXPLICIT, MDNI, 18+

LENGTH |  10,031 words

TAGLIST |

NETWORKS | @k-vanity @ksmutsociety

AUTHOR’S NOTE | Another college au to add to my many NCT college aus I have lol. But this time, both are professors. I hope this turned out well. I'm always a tough critique of my own work lol. I hope you all like this!

You watched as the students in the Music Department made a buzz when they heard of the joint project that would happen during the year's second half. It wasn't unusual to have a joint project. It has been done a few times between departments. The students didn't seem to have any issues working with each other. It was more like the teachers were having a problem.

Well...more like you and Johnny Suh having issues.

Scratch that…more like you had problems.

You were the Music Business Professor and he was the Music Production Professor. You both were popular with the students and you were the two best in the department. So it wasn't a surprise when you both were put in charge of this project.

The Music Production students would be involved in all creative and production sides of things while the Music Business Students would take the business side. You both would have your classes work together as you worked alongside them.

You and Johnny had been rivals ever since you got this job. The reason is because you both have the same skill sets. You could have been teaching music production and Johnny could have taught music business but you love the business aspect. Johnny on the other hand would rather have his hands dirty with the music itself.

When you first met Johnny, you didn't expect him to be a professor. He didn't look or dress the part. You thought he was a graduate student but then you were informed he was the teacher. It surprised you because he looked so young. But then again, he also thought the same of you.

That's how it all started.

You were surprised that Johnny could do everything he could. It was as if he knew all there was about music. He could sing, play instruments, produce, write lyrics, and could even dance. He could have been an idol or a professional musician but instead, he chose to become a teacher.

You both were so busy arguing with each other. The two of you were so passionate about music that it was hard to agree on things. This project had to be a success and the two of you had to be a team to achieve it. But that didn't stop the two of you from bickering over small things.

It didn't help that Johnny was so attractive. You hated how he could make a plain white shirt and a pair of jeans look sexy. You also hated how he could make his voice so low and sexy. But most of all, you hated how his voice turned so soft when he spoke to you.

You would catch yourself staring at him, getting lost in his beautiful eyes, and his handsome smile. You would get a warm feeling in your chest and you hated that feeling. You wanted to hate him. You wanted to dislike him. But he was so charming that you couldn't help but like him.

You tried not to get involved with your coworkers. Especially with Johnny. He was very much a flirt. You didn't know if he did it because he was attracted to you or because it was just his nature. Either way, it annoyed you.

You hated the fact that your heart skipped a beat when you saw him. You hated how every time you were close to him, your face would feel hot. And most of all, you hated how you couldn't stop thinking about him.

You had feelings for Johnny.

You wanted to tell him that you had feelings for him.

But what was the point?

You had a feeling he would reject you. He would probably say something like 'you're just another coworker'. You were sure that he wasn't the type of guy to date. If anything, he probably has many girls chasing after him. There was no way someone like Johnny Suh would choose someone like you over anyone else.

You had been sitting at your desk, grading some papers when there was a knock at your office door.

"Come in."

"Y/N, can we talk?" Johnny said, leaving the door to your office ajar.

"About what?" You ask, gathering your papers and shoving them in your bag.

"We have to get our heads together on this project. The semester is going by faster than we realize. I think we should start meeting more often to get the ball rolling. I would like for us to be on the same page. At least let's show our kids that we can work together. What do you think?"

Johnny is right.

"Fine." You muttered as you ran a hand through your hair. "You think we should also jump on this project with the kids instead of just sitting back and watching them? You know...be involved?"

Involved? Johnny was thinking of just overseeing the whole thing but maybe it would be better to join the kids in this. He's done this sort of project before but this time would be different. This would be the first time you would be involved in such a project and he would love to see you in action.

"Yes. That would be great. Are you sure though? You've never done this type of thing before. Are you up for the challenge?" Johnny asked, leaning on the doorframe.

"What the hell do you mean? Do you think I can't do it?" You said defensively.

"I didn't say that," Johnny replied. "It's just that this project would involve a lot of work. It would require long hours and dedication. It's not going to be easy. If you're not up for it, I won't force you."

"I am up for it, Johnny. You don't have to worry about me. I'm a big girl. I can handle myself." You replied.

"Oh yeah? Let's go, Y/N. Show me what you got." Johnny teased.

"Alright, let's meet after class tomorrow." You responded, trying to get the last word.

"How about we meet after class today?" Johnny offered.

"Today? No can do. I have other plans. Can't cancel." You responded.

"Other plans? What kind of plans?" Johnny asked.

"What kind? What's that got to do with you? Are you my mother? Am I not allowed to have plans on a Friday night?" You questioned defensively.

"Sorry, I was just curious. Forget I asked." Johnny replied quickly.

Johnny didn't want to admit it but he wanted to know what plans you had. Maybe you were going on a date? The thought of you going on a date with some guy bothered him. He didn't understand why it bothered him though. You were just another coworker. At least, that's what he told himself. But that was a lie. He liked you and he's had feelings for you since you met.

He tried not to think about you too much. But lately, it's gotten harder not to do so. Whenever he closes his eyes, your face is all that he sees. He couldn't believe a coworker, a girl who was so focused on the academics of the music business, could be so beautiful. But she is. She is beautiful in her own way. She doesn't need flashy outfits or tons of makeup to shine. Just her smile, her beauty, and her passion alone were enough to win him over.

So here he is, standing in front of the girl he likes. Asking her what plans she had on a Friday night.

"You know what?" You looked up at him. "Why don't you join me tonight? I was going to get drinks with some of our coworkers but I'm sure they wouldn't mind if you joined us. What do you say?"

"I guess I can join you. It sounds like fun." He replied.

"Great. Just don't bring the mood down, ok?" You laughed, turning off the lights.

"Hey, I'm not a party pooper. I know how to have fun." Johnny scoffed.

"We'll see." You smirked.

"You invited who?" Doyoung asked, eyes wide.

"Johnny." You repeated. "I invited him. Is that a problem?"

"I didn't think you two would get along." Jaehyun chimed in. "I thought you hated each other."

"It's not that I hate him...it's just...ugh, you know what? Forget it. He's coming and now I have to act like his handsome face isn't making me feel weird." You groaned.

"Ohhhhh... So you like him." Hendery teased.

"Don't even go there, Hendery. Just pretend like you never heard me say anything." You responded, your cheeks beginning to feel hot.

"Hey guys, sorry I'm late. Oh, hey Y/N." Kun waved.

"You're not late. Johnny isn't here yet." You answered.

"Oh, Johnny's coming? I thought you hated him." Kun wondered.

You slammed your head against the table and groaned. Why the fuck did everyone keep bringing that up? Did you not invite him? What would the reason be?

"She doesn't hate him." Hendery teased.

You rolled your eyes. "Can you not, please? It's bad enough you're all ganging up on me. I'm the one paying for all your drinks so can you all just leave me alone?"

"Ok, ok. We'll stop." Kun raised his hands up. "We won't mention Johnny."

"Thanks, Kun." You smiled.

"Unless..." Kun whispered.

"KUN!"

"Hey guys." A familiar voice interrupted.

You all looked over to see Johnny smiling and waving at the group. You felt a blush rise on your cheeks as you saw him approach you. Why did he have to look so good all the time? He was wearing different clothes than what he wore at school. Decked out in a white t-shirt that hugged his bulging arms and a pair of dark denim jeans, he looked really good. He sported a pair of fashion frames and a bag that was slung over one shoulder. He was dressed down and casual and it made you want to drop to your knees.

What are these thoughts you're having?

You shook your head, snapping yourself from the image of you on your knees sucking Johnny off. You gave yourself a mental slap to stop yourself from looking at his bulge. You quickly made eye contact, hoping he didn't notice you looking. He smiled at you, causing your cheeks to flush again.

"Sorry, I was driving around trying to find a place to park. Traffic is hell around here." Johnny stated.

"Don't worry, you made it. That's all that matters." You answered.

"Hey, Johnny. Thanks for coming." Kun smiled.

"No problem." Johnny smiled, patting Kun on the back.

You watched as he took a seat beside Kun. He smiled at the rest of the group before turning his attention to you. His eyes twinkled with mischief and you didn't like the way it made your stomach flutter. He sat back in his chair and put an arm behind his head. His shirt rode up slightly and you almost died at the sight of the v that was exposed.

God, give you strength.

You're going to make it through this Friday night with everyone without dying at the sight of Johnny Suh.

You can do it. At least you hope you can.

"So what are we doing tonight?" Johnny asks.

"Drinking," Doyoung replied. "A lot."

"Oh boy." Johnny chuckled. "Well, if you guys are drinking a lot, then I better drink a lot too."

"Yeah, that's the idea." Jaehyun laughed.

"I'm glad you decided to come, Johnny," Kun said. "Been awhile since we all got together like this."

"Now that I think about it, I've never hung out with both Johnny and Y/N at the same time," Hendery mutters. "It's usually one or the other."

"Is that so?" Johnny arched his eyebrow and turned toward you. "I didn't realize that."

"There's no big reason as to why. We are both pretty busy. Unlike you slackers, Johnny and I have classes to teach." You stated, jokingly.

"Ooooo, shots fired. She went there." Hendery grinned. "How do you counter attack, Professor Suh?"

"She's not wrong." Johnny smiled.

"Of course, he's going to say that. Y/N, I'm offended. I happen to be a great teacher in my vocal classes." Doyoung started.

"You sure the students aren't there to swoon over your voice? Cause every time I pass you, I hear all those gushes." You grinned.

"The voice of an angel," Johnny added. "His fangirls will always swoon for him. Can you blame him though?"

"See! Even Johnny gets me. I can't help that my voice attracts fangirls. It's not my fault they fall for me. It's a curse that comes with talent." Doyoung dramatically exclaimed.

You rolled your eyes at him and took a sip of your drink. Everyone looked on as Doyoung continued to ramble on. They would interject with small laughs here and there, making the whole atmosphere light.

You ordered a few drinks and chatted with the guys. They were having fun, talking about the students and all the gossip in the faculty room. You couldn't help but laugh at some of the stories. You also enjoyed hearing Johnny talk about his students. He seemed like a great teacher and the way he talked about them with so much passion made you smile.

The conversation soon turned to the joint project. Everyone agreed that it would be a great opportunity for the students and the faculty. There would be a lot of learning and a lot of fun. You were excited about the project. You had a feeling it would be a great success.

The night was getting late and the drinks were starting to take effect. Your cheeks were flushed and you were feeling tipsy. You decided to call it a night. You needed to get some sleep. You said goodbye to the boys and headed home.

On your way out, you passed by Johnny who was waiting outside. He smiled at you and you couldn't help but smile back.

"What are you doing out here?" You ask.

"Waiting for you." He replied. "You can't go home alone. It's dangerous."

"I'll be fine. Besides, I don't live far." You argue.

"Then I'll walk you home." He offered. "I have nothing else better to do anyways."

"You don't have to. I'll be ok." You responded.

"I insist. I'll walk you." Johnny stated, following behind you.

"Okay, fine." You groaned.

You walked side by side down the sidewalk. It was a cool evening and the sky was clear. You couldn't help but admire how handsome he was. He looked even better than usual. You liked how casual he looked. It made him seem less intimidating. You knew it was wrong to think so but he looked absolutely edible in casual clothes.

"You look really nice." You blurted out.

"What?" He laughed.

"I said, you look nice." You repeated.

He looked down at you, a hint of surprise on his face. "Are you drunk or something? I've never heard you say anything nice to me before."

"No, I'm not drunk. I just..." You sighed. "You know what, forget it."

"Hey." He grabbed your arm. "Tell me."

"You look really good in those clothes. They fit you well." You tell him, the words coming out all mushed together.

"Wow." He chuckled. "Who would have thought you would ever give me a compliment."

"Don't make a big deal out of it." You said, quickly.

"Ok, ok." He smiled. "I'll take it."

The walk was a short one and before you knew it, you were standing outside your apartment building.

"Thanks for walking me." You mumbled.

"No problem." He replied.

You stared at him for a moment, wondering if you should ask him inside. You were feeling a little bold and you were sure that you wouldn't regret it. "You want to come inside?"

"For real?" Johnny's eyes widened in shock.

"Yeah. Why not? I think we could use a break from all the work we've been doing lately." You replied, trying to contain the eagerness in your voice.

"Why the hell not." Johnny smiled, stepping closer to you.

You lead the way up to your apartment. When you get inside, you kick off your shoes and throw your keys on the kitchen counter. You turn to look at Johnny who is looking around, taking everything in.

"This is nice." He murmured. "It looks like a great place."

"Thanks. Make yourself at home." You say.

Johnny walked through your living room to the sofa and sat down. You couldn't help but watch him. The way his muscular thighs filled his jeans was mouth-watering.

You head to the kitchen and open up the fridge. "Want a beer?"

"Sure." He nodded.

You grab a couple of beers and walk over to the couch. You hand him a bottle and sit down next to him.

"To the upcoming project." You raise your beer.

"To the upcoming project," Johnny replies, touching your bottle with his.

You clink bottles and take a swig of your beer. You set the bottle down on the table and sigh. "Man, I needed this."

"Yeah, me too." Johnny smiles.

"It's a lot to work out, but I think this project can be successful." You reply.

"It will be. It'll give our students and us a lot of opportunities." Johnny nods in agreement.

"They'll learn a lot and they'll have fun." You add, lifting your beer to your lips. "But mostly, they'll have fun."

"Sounds like my kind of project." Johnny laughs, tipping his head back to swallow some beer.

"I can't wait to hear some of the songs they make." You say the buzz of alcohol makes your head spin.

"Hopefully they aren't too wild." Johnny chuckles.

The two of you chat and finish your beers. You start to feel a buzz and begin to feel a bit braver than usual. You notice that Johnny is feeling the same, as his inhibitions start to lower. "You want another beer?"

"Yes." Johnny nodded. "Absolutely."

"Cool." You reply, grabbing both your empty bottles and getting up. You walk to the kitchen and place the empty bottles in the trash.  You grabbed two more beers, then headed back. You hand him a beer and sit down. The conversation turns to music.

"Have you ever written any songs before, Y/N?" Johnny questions, watching your every move.

"I have." You responded. "Back in the day."

"C'mon, give me an example." He laughs.

"Fine." You sigh. "Let me think."

You put down the bottle on the table and think about what song would be the most appropriate. It doesn't take you long to pick a song that you've had stuck in your head for days.

"Ok." You clear your throat. "I've got it."

"Well, go on then." Johnny urged you.

You take a deep breath, gather yourself, and begin singing the first few lines of the song. Your voice is soft and low as the words pour out. Johnny stares at you, his lips slightly parted and his eyes wide.

"Shit..." he breathes out. "I...that was..."

"Yuck." You pout.

"Not at all. That was amazing." He compliments, running his hands through his hair. "Why do you even doubt yourself when you sound this amazing?"

"Come on, Johnny. Be honest. You could tell, I could tell...that didn't sound right." You muttered, suddenly feeling stupid.

"No, it did. It was perfect. Why haven't you shared these with anyone?" Johnny frowns.

"Because I know what it's like to be told your work isn't good enough." You sighed. "Why do you think I went the business route in music? I can't tell you the amount of times I tried and was laughed out of the room. Told I couldn't sing, had no talent."

"Bullshit," Johnny argued.

"Tell me about it." You muttered.

"Anyway," Johnny changed the subject. "We have been drinking for quite a while." He gestured towards the empty beer bottles on your coffee table.

"Are you getting tired already?" You asked with a sly smile.

"I'm not getting tired. Are you tired?" Johnny quipped.

"Me? No." You replied.

"Then, shall we drink some more?" He questioned.

"Sure. If you're up for it." You nod.

"Excellent, let's keep drinking." Johnny smiled, excitedly.

The two of you sat and talked about music. You shared stories of when you were starting out, and how much you struggled in those early days. Johnny told stories of his time in the music industry. He had experienced some great successes and some great failures too.

As the night wore on, the conversation grew more personal. You spoke of your insecurities and fears, your doubts and failures. You both opened up to each other, sharing your innermost thoughts, emotions, and hopes. You realized that despite the years of rivalry and hostility, you were more alike than either of you had realized.

At that moment, something shifted between you.

The air was electric, the tension palpable.

You looked at each other, a silent question hanging between you, waiting to be answered.

You looked at him with a mixture of longing and desire. His eyes burned into yours, an invitation and a challenge, an unspoken dare to take the next step, the next move. The moment hung in the balance, the world slowing to a halt as the weight of the decision pressed down on you, heart hammering, mouth dry, palms sweaty.

"Are we going to do this? The project? You and me?" You asked as your eyes searched his face.

The corner of his mouth tugged up. "Why not? I like a little challenge."

Your eyes moved across his face, trying to gauge the depth of his sincerity, the authenticity of his words. Was he being serious? Or was this just another part of the game?

You weren't sure.

His gaze was intense, the brown eyes beneath the rimmed glasses burning through you. His smile, broad and lopsided, inviting yet mischievous. You swallowed, your heart rate picking up pace.

Did you dare? Were you willing to risk it all for a chance to be with him? A chance to finally lay your heart on the line? To take a gamble and see where it led? Your gaze met his and there was a flash of hunger in his eyes, a spark of desire that made your breath hitch in your throat and your body tremble with need.

Johnny was the sexiest man you'd ever laid eyes on, but more than that, you felt something with him. Something you'd never felt with anyone else.

Johnny leans in.

There was no turning back now.

You lean in and close your eyes, lips grazing his in a kiss. It's gentle, tentative, the beginning of something new, something exciting. The taste of him is intoxicating, and you deepen the kiss, your hands gripping his shirt, pulling him closer.

Johnny pulls back. "Y/N."

"Johnny," you breathe, and your voice is a soft, trembling whisper.

"Y/N, do you like me? Cause I like you, and I'm sick of dancing around each other." He tells you, his gaze unwavering.

"Yes," you manage to say and his lips curve upward.

He leans in again, and you close your eyes, the anticipation nearly making you tremble. His breath is hot against your face, and then his lips are on yours, capturing your mouth in a kiss so tender and sweet, that you sigh in pleasure, sinking into his arms, kissing him back.

"There's no turning back." He says. "Are you sure?"

"Yes," you murmur, your fingers curling into the hair at the nape of his neck, pulling him down for another kiss.

His lips are soft and warm and they move slowly over yours as his tongue teases at your lower lip. He slides a hand around the back of your head, fingers tangling in your hair, and pulls you closer as he deepens the kiss, his tongue stroking yours in long, slow strokes. Your blood rushes through your body, heat pools in your core, and you feel weak in the knees.

It feels like a lifetime passes before you finally come up for air.

He rests his forehead against yours, eyes locked on yours, lips parted.

You smile. "So..."

Johnny runs a thumb over your bottom lip and your cheeks flush with heat. "So."

Your heart is pounding against your ribs and you feel like you might pass out.

"Do you want to get dinner with me?" Johnny asks, and the smile on his face is the most beautiful thing you have ever seen.

"I'd like that," you whisper. "I'd like that a lot."

The next few days passed in a blur and now you were sitting in one of the lecture halls with the students.

The joint project was coming together quite nicely and everyone seemed excited about it. You and Johnny were working well together and you could see that everyone was learning a lot. You couldn't help but wonder why the two of you hadn't teamed up like this before.

"Professor," One of the students in your class spoke up. "I'm still surprised that you and Professor Suh are working together on this."

"Yeah, me too." A student agreed. "I didn't think the both of you would join us. I thought you'd just oversee the project like we've done in the past."

"I understand, guys. It is a surprise." You nodded. "But isn't it a good opportunity to see how the professionals do it?"

"It's great." The student beamed. "We are so lucky to have you guys join us. You guys are so awesome!"

"I couldn't agree more." Johnny smiled.

Everyone was impressed by how hardworking you two were. The two of you were so determined to make this joint project a success. You had been working hard and making sure everyone was on track.

It was like this for a few days until one day you and Johnny were in the Music Production room.

Johnny's desk is a mess. It's cluttered with papers and all kinds of different musical instruments. His laptop is in the center of it, with all of the documents and folders that you and Johnny had been working on scattered all over it.

You sit at the piano, going over some songs and working on a few chords when Johnny suddenly comes up behind you and bends over, putting his hands on the piano, his face inches from yours.

"What are you doing?" You ask, turning to look at him. "What if one of the students sees us?"

"We are working on a project, right?" He smirks. "Don't you think that it's important for the students to see their professors getting involved with the project? Besides, I'm keeping it professional during work hours but after hours..."

He leans in closer and you can feel his breath on your face. He stares at you with those beautiful brown eyes, his lips curved in a devilish smile.

"I can't wait until after hours." He whispers. "I can't wait to be alone with you. To finally touch you the way I've been wanting to."

Your breath hitches in your throat as you watch him. You can feel your pulse quicken as his words register in your mind. You stare into his eyes, your heart skipping a beat. That night when you invited him up to your apartment ended with dinner and kisses. That's all it had been since then, a couple of kisses here and there. Nothing else.

You wanted more though. You wanted to feel his skin against yours. To hear him call your name as he moves within you. His words echo in your mind and your core tightens at the thought of being alone with him. Your lips part and you lick your lips as you watch him.

"What are you thinking about, Y/N?" His gaze drops to your lips. "I can read it all over your face. I wonder what else is running through that pretty little head of yours."

"If I tell you what's going through my mind," You whisper, staring into his eyes. "It won't be professional, Johnny."

"Who said I was looking for professional?" Johnny purred, licking his lips.

The words have barely left his lips when the classroom doors open, and a student enters the room.

You and Johnny straighten up.

"Professor." He calls you and greets Johnny.

The rest of the students enter soon.

The class was going along great, as the students were diligently working on the assignment Johnny and you had given to them. The project was a mix of audio-editing and music production. You two would switch back and forth on who gave the lessons since Johnny was a Music Production major and you were in business, but it worked well because you knew about the production side and had an ear for good music. You watched Johnny explaining something to the class, admiring his handsome face, the shape of his full lips, the strength of his jaw, and the muscles of his arms as he gestured to something on the screen. He was wearing his signature plastic black glasses. Those damn glasses.

He noticed you and gave you a flirty wink and a crooked grin, knowing how good he looked and how much he was teasing you.

One of the students asked a question. "What are some things to watch for while mixing tracks for the final project?"

Johnny grinned. "I would be careful to make sure all tracks are at the proper levels."

You rolled your eyes, taking in his words, noting how his mouth formed each word, and how his voice seemed to caress the words as he spoke. You wondered briefly, if that voice held the same tone during other things he did, such as whispering, singing, or...more intimate activities. You cleared your throat, banishing those thoughts for now, forcing yourself to concentrate.

Johnny continued.

"Always use crossfades," he says, "and add panning to make it sound as natural as possible."

The students nod, seemingly impressed.

"Yeah." You nodded. "For a perfect mix, we must pay attention to all of those little things. You won't have time to do that in a club situation, or maybe even at a concert, but for this type of project, and in an acoustically friendly room, you have plenty of time to fine-tune it. What you produce today should sound good in a club, but it shouldn't be flat. Always make adjustments. Pay close attention to things like volume and bass and use equalization to set levels and frequencies, making adjustments until it's at an optimum level."

"Professor Y/L/N, you know a lot about production!" One student exclaimed.

"Hey, I have the same skill set as Professor Suh." You said in amusement. "Music is my passion just the same as his."

Johnny winks at you and says. "Well, that's all the time we have today, class. No classes tomorrow but on Monday, Professor Y/L/N will have a lesson ready for you guys. Have a nice long weekend!"

The students clapped their hands and nodded. You waved at them and told them to have a nice long weekend.

Once the last student was out of the classroom you gave Johnny a big grin, the kind that showed all of your teeth, and he returned it, chuckling and running a hand through his messy dark hair.

"You look exceptionally good today, Professor Suh." You laughed.

"Me? You should see yourself, Professor L/N. If I'm the finest-looking professor here, you are definitely second." He teased, offering you his arm, which you took, looping it through his, laughing as the two of you exited the classroom and began your walk. "So, what are your plans for this weekend?" He asked.

You had to think for a minute as the two of you walked through the campus to your usual meeting place, the university coffee shop, before responding. "Probably nothing...unless I can convince a certain professor that it's finally after hours."

"You know," Johnny began. "I might be convinced if the professor would accompany me to dinner."

You gasped in fake shock and he just winked at you. "Only if said professor brings a good bottle of wine."

"Sounds fair enough," Johnny replied. "Say, tonight around seven, your place?"

You chuckled, giving a little shrug, as the two of you walked into the coffee shop. It was empty aside from the two baristas who had their backs turned, chatting happily as they were stocking the display cases.

"I suppose we have a deal," you agreed, ordering the two of you coffee.

The day passed with meetings and grading tests until the clock showed seven o'clock. Your doorbell buzzed and your stomach did a flip as you pressed the button to allow him access. When he appeared, his knock sounded, and your hands shook slightly as you opened the door.

"Hey," he smiled. "I got a couple bottles of wine...and, something special."

"Something special?" You cocked your head. "You are already enough of a surprise, Johnny."

He lifts the bag with a laugh, taking the two bottles of wine out.

"Oh." You gasp, taking in the other object.

A box of condoms.

"You have a big head if you assume we'll go through all those condoms," you chuckle and hold the door open for him to enter.

"Better to have it and not use it than to need it and have it missing." Johnny places a light kiss on your cheek as he enters.

Dinner is a delicious meal made by Johnny and even though he is the cook, you help him serve. Johnny then fills your glass and settles across the table, waiting for you to sample the dish. Johnny is staring intently at your face when you take your first bite and his gaze turns amused and maybe just a tad smug when a moan slips from your lips.

The food is amazing. As he starts eating his meal, your brain wanders to thoughts of sharing more meals with him. Sitting at this same table eating breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Sharing coffee and toast in the morning. Drinking smoothies in the kitchen while you cook or the two of you preparing the food together, hip to hip as the music is softly playing in the background.

After dinner, the dishes are left in the sink. You will take care of those later.

Instead, Johnny follows you to the couch with the bottle of wine in one hand, and two wine glasses dangling in the other. You settle on the couch and Johnny places the glasses and bottle on the low table in front of the couch. He fills both glasses and offers you one. You thank him and take a sip. The liquid leaves a sweet taste on your tongue and a pleasant warmth in your throat.

You settle yourself into a corner of the couch and he takes the other corner, stretching his long legs out in front of him and sighing, clearly relieved to be off his feet for a while.

"Dinner was delicious." You say softly, a slight blush tinting your cheeks.

"Thank you. I enjoyed cooking it for you." Johnny said, his eyes dancing with joy as you shifted in your seat a bit to take another sip of wine.

You find yourself holding his gaze, staring into his deep brown eyes, so full of life. You set your wine glass down on the table, careful not to spill it, and smile up at him.

"What?" He smiles, putting his wine glass next to yours, and looking at you.

"Nothing." You reach up to cup his cheek, his skin warm, and lean up, brushing your lips against his.

He moves slowly against you, his lips caressing yours and it feels so good. Johnny's hands rest on your shoulders. One slides down to wrap around your waist, pulling you close to him. His tongue grazes your lips and you sigh into the kiss, opening your mouth. His tongue slips inside to explore. You allow his tongue to roam your mouth before tangling your own with his.

This time Johnny moans and pulls your lower lip gently with his teeth, eliciting another sigh from you. Slowly, reluctantly, you pull away from him, your breath coming in short, ragged gasps. He licks his lips and leans forward to give you a soft peck on the lips.

"Do you know how much I love kissing you?" He whispers.

"Yes." You giggle as you remove his glasses, holding them in one of your hands. You toss the spectacles behind you, and it falls on the coffee table. You slide your other hand into his messy hair, pulling his lips back to yours for a few seconds before pulling away.

"Now, we're getting somewhere," he chuckles.

"Mhm, yes." You stare at Johnny, tracing a line on the side of his jaw.

Johnny takes his fingers and places them beneath your chin, lifting your face to meet his. His lips meet yours and he kisses you softly, tenderly. When he breaks the kiss, his fingertips trace the outline of your lips, his brown eyes fixated upon them. His hands move up to cradle the sides of your head and he presses his mouth against yours once again. Your body shudders at the sensations that come flooding over you.

"Johnny..."

"Y/N..."

The whisper of your name causes goosebumps to rise upon the surface of your skin, a small gasp escapes your lips, a quick intake of breath, and a trembling breath follows. He breaks his mouth away, his breath heavy and deep. You run your finger lightly up and down the side of his neck, staring into his eyes. Your other hand slowly moves its way up his back, while the other holds the back of his head. His breathing grows labored as you do so, his lips slightly parting, revealing the faintest trace of a smile.

You begin to realize that there may not be any turning back for you. You may be committing yourself completely, fully, and without hesitation to a relationship with this man. The knowledge scares you but at the same time, the feeling is so right.

"Y/N..." With your name falling from his perfect lips, Johnny captures them again in another kiss, this time placing his tongue between your lips.

The pressure from his mouth is almost too much for you. A moan of satisfaction and desire passes your lips and mingles with the kiss.

Johnny begins to trail wet, feverish kisses down the side of your neck. Now and again he allows his teeth to graze the flesh, eliciting a moan of pleasure from deep within your being. His hands reach behind and grasp the zipper to your dress, pulling it down and allowing the garment to fall to the ground in a heap. You reached up and ran your hand under his white shirt and you could feel the heat of his toned stomach, and the contours of his chest. He helped you pull the shirt off over his head and tossed it on top of the pile of clothes that now lay beneath the two of you. Your own hands then began to work their magic, teasing his skin while unbuttoning his jeans.

Johnny then reaches for your bra, and you feel your face get flush when he snaps the hooks on either side and removes the garment. His hands then cup your full, round breasts, causing them to harden at the sensation, and a small whimper comes from your lips.

"Aren't you glad I brought those condoms?" Johnny chuckled.

"We're going to use at least one..." You laugh.

"And all the other rounds? What about then?" Johnny teased.

"Why are we talking when we can be doing other things, Suh?" You push him on the shoulder lightly. "Hmm?"

Johnny grins that wide-teeth-showing smile, and leans in, cupping your face. He leaves a peck on your cheek and moves his lips lower, kissing down your neck and to your shoulder.

"Ah, don't stop now." You close your eyes, leaning your head back, enjoying his lips' dance on your bare skin.

"Are you sure?" Johnny mutters against you, kissing below your collarbone. "Am I going to hear complaints when the students notice bruises on Monday?"

"I'm sure our college students do the same thing as we are doing, Suh," You let out a breathy sigh, pushing him back to sit on the couch before dropping to the floor, settling yourself in the space between Johnny's legs, which spread just for you.

"Not that I want to think of students when you're about to blow me," Johnny chuckles, fingers running through your hair. "I'd rather it be you on my mind."

"Yeah? What else is on your mind?" You ask, reaching to stroke his cock.

"What do you want me to say?" He purrs and his hand fists your hair.

You don't answer, instead, you trace the swollen, red head of his cock with your tongue before wrapping your lips around him, feeling how his hips move, trying to thrust deeper inside you. Your hands squeeze his thick thighs, urging him silently on and when you swirl your tongue along the head he gasps.

"What else?" Your voice is just a little above a whisper, teasing him by speaking while his length sits heavy on your tongue.

"How I've been wanting you? Fuck." Johnny groans when your head starts to bob.

You work his dick thoroughly, fondle his heavy balls, humming around the full length of his shaft while keeping steady eye contact.

"Shit." Johnny curses under his breath, closing his eyes, hand in your hair gripping a handful of it tightly and making a slight sound in the back of his throat.

He shivers, and you hear him hissing, and soon enough you feel your pussy clenching around nothing and juices leaking on the rug under you as you're not wearing your underwear and a small mewl comes out of you.

You then pull him closer against your face, taking him fully.

"Oh shit, that's good." He rasps.

You reach forward to rub his thigh, tracing the muscles that clench now and again beneath his warm, smooth skin. Johnny is a handsome specimen of a man. And he tastes and smells even better.

With another jerk of your mouth, you feel Johnny's fingers twist within your hair, causing your eyes to flicker shut. His body quivers as he lets out a low groan, his mouth open wide and the corners upturned slightly. You suck harder, bobbing your head quickly. Johnny moans, pushing your head further down onto his throbbing cock, trying his hardest not to be overly rough, or to release before he needs to.

"Baby, can I cum on your pretty face?" He mutters, using a gentle grip to pull your head upwards, looking deep into your lust-filled eyes.

Your jaw hurts, you're gasping, and you pull his cock free from your mouth with a wet sound. "Please."

"So good, baby girl. You look so good right now." Johnny grins as he looks down at you, his hand going to pump his shaft. He licks his lips, feeling that familiar heat coil in his abdomen. He jerks himself faster, looking you in the eyes, watching the way they seem to beg him. 

"I've wanted to see those lips of yours covered in my cum since I first met you." Johnny grits out, pumping his shaft harder and faster. "Want to see that cum dripping from that pretty chin of yours, hear your moans as you clean every drop up."

His words and his actions leave you desperate, so horny, and so, so needy.

"Fuck, baby, you're such a dirty, dirty girl," Johnny grunts, his balls tightening as he aims his cock toward your awaiting face. His orgasm washes over him in an instant. "Open up, I'm gonna give you what you're after, baby." 

He shoots ropes of his load onto your face, hitting your nose, lips, and chin. 

"Such a sexy little mess." Johnny rasped as he wiped the last of his cum across your chin with his thumb, rubbing it along your lips. "Swallow that up, dirty girl."

"Yummy," you said, swallowing the whole load, and licking his thumb.

His hand lowers, tracing down the length of your neck to rest upon your collarbone, his index finger hooking underneath to gently pull you toward him. "Won't you have more?" he purrs, his hand cupping your breast.

You place his fingers into your mouth, wrapping your lips around them, moaning as you suck gently, allowing them to graze the inside of your cheek. His smile turned seductive, his thumb dragging across his lips as you began to move, pushing yourself back toward the middle of the couch. You lean down toward his cock once more, licking, nipping, nibbling, and sucking on it, becoming lost in his moans and grunts.

"Just like that baby," Johnny purrs, running his hand through your hair. "Show me what a slut you can be."

Your hands move up and down the length of his shaft, and he lets out another loud gasp, throwing his head back against the cushions, his hands threading their way through your locks of hair. "F-fuck. Baby, you're s-so damn good. I need to f-feel you wrapped around me. Now."

You tilt your head and give him a devilish grin, crawling up his body, kissing him until you straddle his waist. You reached for the box of condoms and ripped the package open. Reaching for his cock once more, he groans loudly as you hold him firmly, stroking the entire length of him while continuing to kiss him. Once the condom was on, you reached behind yourself and grabbed Johnny's thick cock, and aimed it toward the opening of your pussy, lowering yourself onto him with a pleasured cry.

"God. Fuck, you feel amazing, Johnny." You sigh contentedly, slowly beginning to move up and down his solid erection. You plant your hands firmly upon his chest for support, your body grinding against him, setting your tempo and pace. His large hands, in return, wrapped around your back and gripped your sides as his hips began to buck with you, his groin moving upward, matching your tempo, driving his cock as deeply inside of you as he could.

"You really like it like this, baby? Good and hard?" Johnny grunted, as your bodies slammed together over and over again, the sounds of loud moaning and skin-on-skin contact filling the room.

"Fuck, yes." You cry, grinding your hips, tightening your pelvic muscles. Johnny growls as his hands travel to your ass, giving it a nice squeeze, guiding your movements against him.

"This is the most intense, sexual encounter I've ever had, and it's with a music professor," you pant, picking up speed. One of Johnny's hands tightens its grip, then slides up and down your thighs as he holds you in his lap. You reach up, entwining your fingers with his other hand, which rests atop your breast.

He guides your arm behind his neck, pulling you in. "Well my fellow music professor," Johnny said, looking deep into your eyes as you bounced up and down in his lap. He presses his mouth close to your ear and whispers, "...I could tell the same about you too," before bringing his lips back to yours.

"Have we become more than rivals?" You sigh when your lips separate.

"Yeah."

You never thought in a million years you'd hook up with one of your co-workers. Never thought in a million years you'd hook up with a music professor like Johnny. 

But yet, here you were.

As you walked through campus a few days later, you spotted Johnny heading towards the parking lot with some music equipment under his arms.

As usual, students flocked around him with smiles and hellos, not letting him out of their sight.

After you had successfully dealt with the students, who had gathered around and asked the inevitable question of: 'Are the two of you dating?' The topic of the question wasn't new to you, it seemed that students had come up with such an idea even before you had ever done anything together. Their questions were answered when Johnny placed the equipment down before leaning in to press a light, lingering kiss to your lips.

The students' eyes went wide in surprise. One of the guys whistled, and another wolf whistled. A group of girls were whispering furiously about how hot you two look, another saying that it took you long enough to go out with each other, the rest not believing the fact that you're kissing each other in front of everyone.

"Yeah, yeah. Your two favorite hot music professors are dating now. Get used to the idea, and move along." You laughed along with the students. Once they all disbursed, Johnny leaned in once again, wrapping his arms tightly around your waist and you felt your stomach flutter with butterflies when he pecked you on the lips.

"Happy now? Happy now?" You mutter against his lips. "Now the whole school is going to know we're together. I can hear the rest of the faculty members already, yapping their mouths off about it."

He rested his forehead on yours and let out a short laugh. "Hah! Like they could ruin this perfect moment." He rubbed his nose against yours playfully.

"They could try!" You giggled, pressing another quick kiss against his soft lips, then whispered, "Your place?"

He simply smirked, putting his equipment in the car. "After you."

His apartment was, dare you say it, perfect. The furniture was minimal, though there was a lot of electronics scattered around, probably expensive recording equipment. He had an incredible vinyl collection and a whole wall full of CDs and records. Everything about the place smelled and looked like Johnny; classy, expensive, cool.

"Wow, Johnny. How'd you ever find the perfect mix between elegance and laziness in apartment designing?"

"I'm just naturally awesome." He grinned, shutting and locking the door to the house. "Anyway," he set the instruments down by the door and made his way toward you, smirking devilishly. "How about you show me what kind of sounds you're into making first."

You felt his hand on your lower back, guiding you gently to his couch as he removed his coat, leaving the garment discarded in a pile on the floor. His hands slid around your hips, drawing you close to him, your bodies flush together. "Let me hear the pretty music you'll make just for me." He purred.

"As much as I would love to make music on your couch...I wonder how it will sound in your bed, Johnny." You gave him a smirk of your own as you caressed his cheeks with both hands.

"Good. Great even." He bent down to capture your lips in his as his arms slid under your thighs, lifting you easily. He carried you into the bedroom, kicking the door shut behind him. Gently lying you down, you watched him peel off his shirt.

He's attractive in school clothes, you have to admit, but he's really gorgeous out of those clothes.

You knew your mouth was gaping slightly from looking at his abs and chest, and Johnny only smiled wider, removing the remainder of his clothing. You admired the definition of his ass as you felt yourself getting wet with anticipation, eager to feel him against you.

With one swift movement, he was hovering above you, lips on your neck as his hands roamed over your body. His fingers make quick work of the buttons of your blouse, moving downward until he reaches the button and zipper on your skirt. Soon, those were gone, and you were left with only a thin strip of material covering your modesty.

You bite your lip, unable to resist a whimper at the feeling of his breath against your bare skin, followed by the warm touch of his tongue. "Johnny."

A grin appeared, his teeth scraping lightly before his lips trailed back up your throat, nipping gently at your chin as he shifted. Johnny pulls you against his naked body, his lips trailing along your collarbone and stopping at your ear to suckle on the flesh, teasing it with his teeth. "That feels nice, but I want your mouth somewhere else." You giggle, sliding your panties off your legs. 

"Eager, are we, my sexy professor?" He smirked.

You prop yourself up, arms on the pillow under your head, and watch Johnny shift, kissing the side of your left knee before he moves down, planting soft, tender pecks along the inside of your thigh. The closer he got, the slower he moved. Every touch felt electrified, making you writhe beneath him as his eyes remained focused on the glistening center between your thighs.

When his tongue finally grazed your swollen, slick clit, you had to bite your lip hard. It took nearly everything inside you to keep from screaming. Your eyes widened, and a low, soft moan escaped from your mouth.

"Ah, I see. You like that." Johnny murmured, moving his hand, his lips gliding across your thigh until he found your need once more, kissing you long and slow.

Your arms tensed at your sides, balling into fists as you pulled at the sheet below you. Everything he does leaves your mind blank, causing all sorts of new sensations. A shudder ran through you, a gasp, and his name escaped your parted lips, making his touch linger.

"The pretty noises coming from your lips are like music to my ears." He smiles wickedly. "Music I would love to produce."

Johnny looks up, eyes meeting your gaze as he buries his face between your thighs, flicking his tongue back and forth quickly over your clit. He loves how you writhe beneath him. The sight and taste of you.

"Shit, Johnny." You moaned a little louder this time as your knees went weak at his touch, fingers curling tighter in the bedsheet.

"How do you want it?" His voice vibrating into you makes you arch your back.

You wrap one leg around his shoulder, bucking your hips, silently pleading for more. He wastes no time, picking up the pace of his ministrations, humming with each pass of his tongue. The sensation is overwhelming, and the world around you spins, making you cling desperately to the bedding, holding onto it as if your life depended on it.

The sounds coming out of your mouth become louder and louder, mixing with his humming and moans as his fingers join in the action. He works diligently at bringing your release, listening to the pleasured whimpers coming from you, and you won't last much longer before you're spasming, muscles tensing up in the euphoria, eyes rolling back as he continues licking and kissing.

When you finally collapse into the bed, your body shaking, a hand runs up your leg, and Johnny is crawling over you, pressing his lips to yours. He kisses your jaw, your cheeks, your nose, and your forehead, pecking your lips every so often.

"There's my pretty professor, so responsive. So beautiful." He whispers into your hair, hands still massaging your thigh. He reached over to his nightstand where a condom sat ready. Tearing the foil packet and rolling it down over his length, Johnny brushed the back of his fingers gently across the expanse of your inner thigh and settled them along your heat, rubbing you a few more times before shifting forward until the head of his length was resting right against your entrance.

Johnny had leaned forward and was now licking up the length of your neck before taking the skin between his teeth and giving it a harsh nibble. "Can't wait to feel you wrapped around me."

You squirm and twist, letting his tongue snake its way into your mouth again as he gives your bottom lip another tug. Slowly, his tip began to push into you and it wasn't long before the entirety of his length was nestled snugly inside you, filling you to the hilt.

"Damn, baby," Johnny growled into your ear, as he rocked his hips forward to further bury himself inside. "How am I going to control myself with you gripping me like this? So tight." 

For a second, you two lock eyes and stare into each other's soul. Then, without warning, Johnny pulls his hips back and thrusts forward roughly, groaning into your ear at the motion. With the slowest, most deliberate rhythm, he pushes himself deep inside before pulling almost entirely back, the both of you grunting loudly from the pleasure that is running up your body in shivers, eyes scrunched tightly closed as he slowly, agonizingly begins to speed up.

"Fuck," Johnny groaned out, thrusting quicker now. Your ass was bouncing wildly on the bed, as you squeezed his waist with your thighs, wrapping your calves around his lower back.

His hips rolled fluidly as he drilled into you, burying himself as deep as your body would let him. Your screams became louder, echoing off of the walls in Johnny's room. Johnny grunted in satisfaction and gripped your breast in one hand as your back arched upwards, your mind spinning.

"Damn, baby. That's it. Take my cock deep inside that sweet cunt. Take it deep. Deeper. Deeper."

In an instant, Johnny is pulling his cock out of you, flipping your body so that you're belly-down against the soft mattress of his bed. His fingertips grip you tightly, almost roughly as he grabs your hips and thrusts into you again. He picked up where he left off, filling you completely once again before he pulled back and then shoved forward once more. His thick member slips further than you thought were possible, pushing roughly through your walls as they expand around him, allowing him to press harder against the perfect spot.

You gripped the sheets tightly once again, burying your face in his comforter as you began to feel your legs shake. A loud moan resonates throughout your body and travels out your throat. Johnny can't help but release a satisfied groan himself, leaning forward to place sloppy kisses and licks up your spine and to the back of your neck.

"Johnny...it feels so fucking good," you whined softly into the sheets.

"Shit... I know," he replies, sounding strained himself.

It doesn't take long for the pressure to build.

Panting and grunting, you both grew nearer and nearer. The tension inside you began to rise with each thrust. Your legs were already shaking in anticipation.

Your mouth opens as you let out a strangled, satisfied scream of, "FUCK," as the euphoric explosion of sensations starts to flood over you. Johnny groans loudly into the crook of your neck, his arms squeezing you close as he shouts, too, hips bucking desperately as he reaches his climax along with you.

Breaths come out labored.

Johnny pulled himself out slowly, careful not to make a mess. With shaking arms, he pushes himself up, tossing the used condom before plopping down beside you, arm wrapping around your middle.

He pulled you into his chest, cuddling you.

After the orgasm faded, his hand rested gently atop the curve of your hip as he rubbed his thumb gently over your skin, pressing soft kisses to the top of your head.

He hummed a soft melody against your skin and it made your chest hum pleasantly with adoration. You ran your fingers softly down his cheek.

"Hi."

"Hi. You doing okay?"

You turn, draping your leg over his body, and curl closer into his warm, soft embrace. You gently run your finger along his jawline and then caress his lower lip. His dark eyes focus on you with loving admiration and warmth.

"Mm, perfect," you smile.

He smiles back, leaning in and places his lips tenderly against yours, then closes the distance, kissing you again, and again.

Your rival has become so much more than that.

More than a co-worker.

You fell asleep cuddled in the arms of your new music partner and love.

[sleepyparalysisdmon]

SVT doing acts of service

Requested? Yes! 

Request: 'seventeen members and what they would for their partner who’s love language is acts of service :)'

A/N: there are so many different kinds of acts of service, but I picked the ones that really stuck out to me. 

Seungcheol - car maintenance and care

You haven’t had to fill up your gas tank in months, years even, because it never seems to come close to empty. You haven’t thought about needing an oil change or tire rotation because the little sticker in the corner of your windshield always looks new. You forget how a drive thru car wash works because your car is always sparkling. And if your check engine light ever does come on with an actual issue, best believe he’s swapping cars for the day to take care of it. Almost entirely motivated by you being safe, but the shiny car with a full tank of gas kind of makes him proud when he returns it to you.

Jeonghan - does the dishes 

You said a single time that dishes were your least favorite chore. You grumbled about it but had every intention of doing it as soon as you could work up the motivation. But he’s rolling his eyes lovingly, pushing you back towards your seat saying, “I’ll do it, but you’re so whiney.” Don’t let it fool you. He doesn’t mind it and even tells you to just leave it for him later. Might even scold you a little bit if you didn't leave them for him.

Joshua - always makes coffee

Absolutely does not matter how early he has to wake up or if it might make him late, but he’s starting the coffee pot. You said one time that you were running late and really needed coffee but didn’t have time to make any or stop somewhere. So every morning when you rush around the apartment to get ready for work, you find fresh coffee with an insulated cup next to the pot for you to fill and go. So small yet so nice at the same time. 

Jun - cooking dinner

You get a little stressed about dinner. After a long day, it’s so, so easy to come home and say “fuck it, I’m ordering something.” But you lament how expensive and unhealthy that habit is sometimes, so you occasionally come home and are surprised to see him there too, cooking dinner. Will not listen to a single second of nagging for him to rest because he really doesn’t mind if it reduces your stress and ensure you’re eating properly and actually wishes he could do it more often. 

Hoshi - packing your lunch 

Similar to Jun, but you often forget to pack lunch the night before and can’t do it in the morning when you’re running late. He sends you to get ready for bed and says he’ll be there in a few. The next morning, he reminds you to grab your lunch from the fridge on your way out. It’s not always this super cute, aesthetically pleasing box lunch, but it’s always nice that he thinks to do it at all.

Wonwoo - organizing your things

You have a pile of things that need to be put away and organized, be it books, or clothes, or groceries. He’ll take over without really being asked. Your bookshelf is neatly alphabetized. Your closet is organized by color or item type, whichever you prefer. Your groceries are put away to your preferences, whether it be by date of expiration or on low shelves to ensure you can reach it. Will not accept any thanks because he just likes doing it. 

Woozi - filling up your water bottle

At the first sight or sound of your water bottle draining, he’s holding out his hand expectantly. Does not matter if you tell him you can do it yourself because you’re wasting your breath. Very much an “I know, but let me do it.” And you do let him do it a majority of the time because it’s kind of sweet how quickly he responds. 

DK - shoulder rubs

This feeds a little bit of the physical touch love language too, but it is still most certainly an act of service. If he sees that you’ve had a hard day or your shoulders are tense, he’s pulling you in front of him or coming up behind your seat to rub out your shoulders. It makes you melt, not only because it feels good and relaxes you, but because it’s always ended with a little kiss and a “feel better?”  

Mingyu - takes care of your pet

Literally the first to volunteer to scoop the litter box, or walk the dog, or clean out the fish tank. Doesn’t matter what kind of pet you have, he wants to learn about it and help you care for it. This also extends to making time for vet appointments when you’re too busy to do it yourself. If you ever say anything about how he doesn’t need to do all that, he’ll cry out, “but that’s our child!!” Don’t deny him his time with his child. 

Minghao - opens things for you

Another one that does the whole “I know, but let me.” He barely watches you struggle to open something for a second before he’s holding out his hand or just straight up taking the item from you. Might even preemptively open things for you before he hands them to you. It’s a totally silent, easy way to show he cares so please let him keep doing it. 

Seungkwan - dries your hair for you

(I’ve definitely written about this before for him, so this was an obvious choice.) Knows you’re usually tired by the time you shower at night, so he’s making you sit down in the bathroom so he can meticulously dry your hair for you. He kind of likes how it puts you to sleep too because it means it was relaxing or soothing for you. Will never let you touch a hair dryer if he’s around. 

Vernon - untangles things for you

It starts with your headphones. You lament that the cords always get tangled and bent in your bag. He takes the headphones from you right then to untangle them. He even winds the cord neatly so it won’t happen when you put them back in your bag. This little habit extends to things like necklaces when they get knotted or tangled in one another. He doesn’t even let you ask about it - if he sees a tangled necklace on your vanity or counter that you left to deal with later out of frustration, he’ll just stop and do it right then. Another one that won’t accept any thanks because he doesn’t mind doing it. 

Chan - organizing your medicine

Doesn’t want you to forget it, no matter what you might take it for. Buys a little pill organizer and sits down once a week to fill it up for you. It’s such a little thing that sometimes you forget you never have to do it. It’s just magically always full at the beginning of the week. He usually knows when you’ve run out of a medication and need a refill before you because of this little habit, and might take initiative to get them for you when he can. 

[radioisntdead]

I don't know if you do parental asks, but if you do, could you bless me eyes by writing a father Alastor and child!reader who is a toy/doll demon? Reader is hyperactive but very clumsy so Alastor always has to keep an eye on her so she doesn't hurt herself and sometimes he resorts to having one of his shadows watching over her if he's busy. Reader is small so they always seem to get stuck in cabinets or closet, which scares the hotel residents when they see Reader in a random place. [Not me trying to cure my daddy issues] 😂😂

Good evening my dear! I've been expecting someone to request a parental Alastor, [No seriously I have, I had a feeling someone was gonna request it, it was only a matter of time] I'VE BEEN READY FOR THIS, Not to mention I'm related to a hyperactive child so taking inspo from that! (Please help me he bites)

Father! Alastor & child! Reader

Platonic, obviously.

Warnings!!!

Fanon, I'm going fanon for this, mild cannibalism, feral, reader is based off a porcelain doll but I am TERRIFIED of porcelain dolls, anyways feral reader, injuries etc etc Alastor scooped reader up from the side of the street, I like how I've had every parental hazbin character with a child figure reader just scoop them off the street, I should draw that later

No one knows how exactly how you ended up below, it was theorized that there was probably a mix-up or maybe you were one of those deranged child serial killers or maybe you WERE hellborn that just aged really slow, like concerningly slow, but from some of the things you say it was suspected you were indeed a sinner.

Anyways that's up to you to figure out, but what we do know is that Alastor stumbled upon you absolutely tearing apart a grown sinner in some alleyway, despite looking like a porcelain doll that could break if dropped on carpet, the radio static coming from him caught your attention,

And then you saw those big fluffy ears that sat on the top of his head, you ran towards him with the speed of a feral child, because you were, infact a feral child

"Fluffy!"

You immediately climbed onto him, little hands clinging onto the fabric of his suit before finally reaching for his ears,

He didn't even get a chance to get away from you. With a strained smile he grabbed you off him, and held you up as he inspected you, observing your appearance,

"How peculiar, don't do that."

He said as you continued reaching for his fluffy ears.

And that had sealed his fate, he could NOT get rid of you,

He left you back in that alley he found you? You showed up again two minutes later, he sent you into the Vee's tower? You are the reason Valentino has a messed up antenna.

Alastor became a father against his will, and honestly it could've been worse, you were a decently chaotic child, that would either follow him around or when in the hotel would climb up his back and play with his fluffy ears while maniacally whispering

"fluffy, fluffy, fluffy, fluffy"

"Dear, please get off me."

Your skin was covered in a light porcelain coating, like thin wax covering soft clay, If thrown harshly against something you could crack and bleed, it wouldn't make that much of a sound.

you were very much a fragile thing and as your reluctant caretaker Alastor made sure that you stayed out of trouble, safe and sound, and away from any sharp objects.

Unfortunately you were hellbent on getting into mischief, especially in the hotel where there were many things you could get into, like behind the bar where husk worked, He took a five minute break to grab something to eat and you had managed to slip yourself behind several bottles inside the cabinet, one wrong move and they all fall to the ground and shatter with the alcoholic beverages inside them,

He had to take out twenty bottles, place them on the counter then take you out, gently place you on the ground then put all the bottles back, it was a hassle, not to mention you had a thing for fluffy things, Husk was NOT an exception, if he wasn't paying attention you would claw your way up his back like a feral mongoose and just gently pet his ears while mumbling "Kitty cat, kitty cat kitty cat kitty ca-"

You got along well with Niffty, she was like a sadistic older sister but it was decided that she was a bad influence on you so whenever you're near her it needs to be supervised by someone.

You give Charlie mini heart attacks because either you'll be the sweetest little thing towards her, you'll draw with her, call her 'Big sister Charlie' or something like that and you will have her wrapped around your little fingers, or you'll be a source of stress because your playing on the railing and oops! Your falling twelve feet to the ground and she's rushing over to catch you, and after she catches you, probably breaking something in the process you just give her the biggest smile as you hug her saying she caught you, you've also terrified her and Vaggie more then once by hiding underneath their bed and popping out at the worst of times with confetti or something.

Speaking of Vaggie you had a similar relationship but she was more strict in a way, she has a soft spot for kids and she keeps an eye on you, she'll teach you how to spar as an attempt to burn any excess energy you have, she'll go for a run and take you with her, she'll have you on one of those child leashes because you can, will and have run into the road and almost got taken out, respawning was a very very painful process, it was like getting ripped apart, turned inside out, twisted and turned back out and put together again, there's a reason it can take time for a sinner to respawn.

A child like you should never have to deal with that, and Vaggie, while she can't respawn she understands and will prevent you from having too, Alastor may not like her all that much (Or at all) but she's proven to be a decent babysitter.

Sir Pentious was like a goofy older brother or that dork of a cousin, he'd probably invent something to entertain you or he'd read to you, you scare eggs out of him when he's working on something and BAM you pop up out of nowhere, the majority of the eggs were fearful of you too.

"uh, can you not bite me?" A egg asked as your unhinged jaw munched on him, slowly tearing away until he eventually cracked leaving you to run away from the yolk covered crime scene.

[He's the first person you go to when you are redeemed, a familiar face is what you need in an unknown place where you should've gone in the first place, the halo on your head makes him cry, you made it with him but that more then likely means you perished like he did]

Angel dust was no different from the others, he tones his language down a bunch but he's still Angel dust, a inappropriate joke can and will slip through the cracks but he doesn't mean any harm, he just panics and tells you not to tell your Pa, giving you some child-safe candy in return and if your running around like a manic Niffty he'll pick you up and try to find the more responsible residents, or you'd tug on his fluff, he was one of the fluffiest residents and that made him, a major target for your lil' grabby hands, if you ever want a snack your not supposed to have he'll give it to you, you want ice cream? Sure knock yourself out kid, He reminded you of someone you knew once.

What did they look like again? You couldn't remember..

When Alastor steps out of the hotel to go to a overlord meeting or whatever he does and no one is available to watch you, he'll have his shadows watch over you,

His shadows need a pay raise.

"I'll be back in a few hours, be good dear!" Alastor said patting you lightly on the head as you grinned up at him,

"Alrighty! Bye Papa!"

You wave as he leaves, as the door closes you turn around and wander around the hotel, everyone was busy preparing for something, you didn't quite know what yet though, but you were left to your own devices today! You ran up and down the staircases, you got a laundry basket and used it as a makeshift snowboard on the staircase which Alastor's shadow had to make sure it didn't fling up into the air, you jumped off a counter his shadow grabbed the collar of your shirt to stop you from face planting.

You eventually get bored of playing around and try to find Niffty to ask if she could make you something to eat but the hotel's resident housekeeper is nowhere to be found, so you enter the kitchen and it is a DANGER ZONE, you knew not to touch the stove or the sharp knives thankfully but that didn't stop you from dragging over a chair to climb up into the cabinet to grab a plate, a few cups falling in the process but the shadow caught them before they could shatter into the floor, You hopped down from the chair to get a tortilla, the shadow stood next to you ready to grab you if needed, you waddled over to the refrigerator and took out a pack of bacon bites and sour cream, you acquired a plastic knife to spread the sour cream onto the tortilla, sprinkling some bacon bits after before rolling it up and placing it onto the plate.

You grinned at your snack, this is what defined your childhood, you turn back to the refrigerator to grab a juicebox before taking the plate and booking it back into the main room of the hotel.

You sneakily made your way to the TV and looked around, you gave the shadow a 'shh' motion as you turned on the tv to vintage cartoons, like Popeye, Betty boop or if you were lucky to access more modern cartoons, you could watch Scooby doo!

This was the time Alastor's shadow could rest from protecting you, so it wouldn't snitch to Alastor about your consumption of cartoons.

It wished you would watch more cartoons because after your snack you were dangling from the chandelier! You didn't know how you even got up there?!

When Alastor finally returned from wherever he was you immediately ran, tackling the Radio demon in a hug, Alastor's smile tightened slightly but he bared with it, you were just an excited child that he cared for, like a pet.

"I take it you were behaved while I was away?"

You nodded, "Yep!"

The shadow would say otherwise because you were HANGING FROM THE CHANDELIER FOR AN HOUR, They had to lurk around in case you fell, which you did, Thankfully they didn't have to catch you, because Charlie had emerged at the right time to catch you as you dropped from the chandelier.

But Alastor didn't need to know that right now, he'll find out on his own when he's making dinner and he goes to check on you to see you dangling from the chandelier again with Angel and Husk scrambling beneath trying to catch you if you were to slip and fall.

"Aren't you a little troublemaker?" He would say as he snapped his fingers and you were brought down from the chandelier, safe and sound, he'd bring a clawed hand to your face as he gently pitched your check, tutting like a old lady before turning around and bringing you to assist him in the kitchen and give huskerdust a break.

Alastor didn't see himself ever having a child before you, and he could see you growing into a powerful overlord one day, he'd be there to guide you as you grew, you would've grown up loved, watching as sinners entered the hotel and left as saints,

For now you were standing behind him in the kitchen carefully mixing rolling out some type of dough as music played from the radio and you told your Papa about your day.

Once the dough was rolled out and cut Alastor pat your head saying that you did a good job before moving to dip the dough into hot oil, as you watched, a tentacle holding the back of your 1930's themed attire making sure you didn't dive into the oil by accident.

Within the hour you were sat at a table with freshly made beignets Infront of you,

"Enjoy!"

"Thank you Papa!"

You said before digging into one of the beignets as Alastor smiled per usual, it was a nice treat, you liked moments like these, you hoped you could stay in the hazbin hotel with it's residents and your Papa forever, they were your family and family stays together right?

Good evening folks! Thank you for tuning in! I was supposed to post this last night but I passed out, and We may be adopting a dog soon! I'm not using that as an excuse I'm just excited, anyways I'm working on requests, part twos and all that good stuff! Tune on in for that later on!

Also I may have added sprinkles of angst here but we don't talk about that =]