#it’s in the knowledge of knowing he’s suffering okay

[karasbroken]

I am still in escape-from-reality mode, so have an essay on John being smart, I guess?

I loved this photo of the shuttle interior, though of course I can't view it without sparing a few thoughts for the crew who lost their lives for our quest to be free from being trapped in our one, beautiful, complicated, suffering planet.

But what it made me think about next was Farscape, of course. It's so briefly mentioned, and never referred to again, but the Farscape mission was John's third trip to space, minimum. He'd been on two previous space shuttle missions. And they must have been significant and successful roles because he was commander for the Farscape project. So this overwhelming morass of switches and readouts was familiar to him. He could probably name what every control did, what every blinking button meant.

John's ability to adapt so quickly to alien technology doesn't seem so improbable when you consider how much Earth technology he was used to dealing with. He struggled mostly with the stuff that had no labels or details to guide him, like handles that turn unintuitively back and forth instead of up and down, or doors that open by waving the right way at specific unmarked spots. (I feel like PK techs also found the doors of Leviathans baffling because they engineered specific glowy pads for all of Talyn's doors.)

I'm positive that John knew every subsystem on this shuttle. There's a reason they let a guy go up to space in a ship of his own design, and it's not just because he's the son of a famous astronaut. (Good for publicity at a time when the space program was struggling for mind share and funding.) He might use half his brain for pop culture and Aeryn, but the rest of it was more than enough to make John that rare super genius who can put his math and science into practical use building shit. So of course the vast majority of the time we see John being idle, he's taking something apart or putting it back together.

When he goes back home, John claims not to understand how the hetch drive works, "he just installed it", but his friends know that's bullshit. Of course John knows how most of it works, but he doesn't have full grasp of the math and science because he's had to deduce everything from tinkering and an under-trained Pilot without full grasp of the science himself. John is being coy partly to not bias what other scientists can figure out from their own experiments and partly because he doesn't want to get stuck all day every day being interrogated for his knowledge. Kinda been there, done that.

But anyway, this picture made me think things, about Earth tech, and our wonderful, adaptable human in the wilds of constant space magic and a hundred species worth of tech....

(Okay, just one more rant: I'm convinced Aeryn becomes a tech herself at least partially because she hangs out with John a lot, and she hates being idle, so she started messing with tech too.

I can just see him opening something up and asking a lot of questions that irritate her because she has no idea why any of her equipment works and it has never been necessary to know how to fix it, yet the way he asks questions makes her feel ignorant. But then after he pokes around enough to figure out what the red squiggly button does, he shows her and wants her to understand it too. Which she wouldn't be interested in, except she can shut him up faster if she makes him show her how to put it back together, freeing him up to go play with the next thing that catches her eye.

Or he'll go into this rant about how this particular thing is always breaking and should really be redesigned and she tells him she'll fix it, again, just to shut him up.

Because she quietly loves being in his frittery, high energy presence; there's enough John to fill up a squad's worth of space and he helps her feel less lonely on this giant empty tomb of a ship. But she wishes he talked less because she can't not pay attention to him and three quarters of what he says is nonsense. John earnestly messing around with something too intent to even talk is perfect. She'll happily sit there and clean parts or do the tedious soldering if he just limits himself to occasional mutters and "youreekas!", whatever that means.

John, of course, being a super genius, eventually figures out the pretty girl will sit with him all day--really close to him actually, their knees will bump a lot--if he tells her he really needs help assembling backup circuits or whatever. But only if he shows her how to do it once, provides minimal feedback from there, and limits himself to two Earth pop culture references per arn.)

Flight Deck of the Space Shuttle Columbia image credit: Eric Long/Smithsonian Institution                          National Air and Space Museum

[happypeachsludgeflower]

I love non sequiturs. They’re wonderful.

Others may say that they’re a clunky way to awkwardly change the subject—that they’re inelegant and fail every stealth check possible, but really?

They’re a blunt, hardedge way of saying “no I’m done talking about this topic anymore and there’s nothing you can do to stop me.”

They’re just such a power move honestly.

Have you ever looked an angry 6ft something man in the eye and said, “There’s a species of single celled organisms that live in almost uninhabitable lakes and has seven genders,” and just watched as befuddlement crosses his face and he then experiences the five stages of grief in five seconds because he knows he’s now going to have to listen to me explain polyploids in excruciating detail once more because I deemed him to be an asshole.

It’s so satisfying.

[steddiealltheway]

Thinking about Steve who has not a single idea about how social media works, but he downloads a few things like Instagram and Twitter only to check in on the kids. Other than that, he has zero knowledge of pop culture and kind of lives in that blissful bubble. Every once in a while, the kids will get a bit exasperated with him, but he enjoys listening to them explain things - and he knows they secretly love being able to rehash all the gossip.

And honestly, being out of the loop has it’s perks. Especially when he’s on a plane to Los Angeles, California to visit the Byers while they’re there for a concert and to do some sightseeing in the meantime. He’s sat next to someone who sits by the window seat but wears a baseball cap and sunglasses, curly hair tied back in a ponytail. He seems strangely on edge - maybe suffering from a hangover or scared of flying.

Steve can’t help but tap him on the arm. When the stranger turns, he has his mouth in a flat line looking strangely done with the conversation before it’s even begun. “Sorry, I was just going to ask if you’re okay,” Steve says.

The man frowns and tilts his head. He hesitates to reply, “Yes, I’m just… a bit on edge.”

“Tell me about it. This is my first time on a plane.”

The stranger’s mouth twitches. “Is it really?”

“Yeah. What about you?” Steve asks.

“I’ve been on hundreds of planes - would rather be on the road though,” the stranger says reaching up to grab at the end of his ponytail and twirl it around his finger.

Steve smiles and replies, “I get that. I’m Steve by the way.” He holds his hand out to the stranger who eyes it wearily.

“Eddie,” he replies quietly and shakes his hand.

Steve gets distracted by the rings on his hands and finds himself asking about them. The stranger looks at him for a moment, and, even with the sunglasses on, Steve can tell Eddie is strangely taken aback. Steve is about to take it back and apologize for… mentioning the rings? But Eddie points to the first one and explains.

The rest of the plane ride goes well, amazingly well even. Steve finds himself chatting away with Eddie and throughly enjoying his company - especially when he holds his hand while the plane takes off. He especially enjoys the moment when Eddie briefly takes his sunglasses out to look at the clouds, and Steve gets to see his beautiful brown eyes.

A range of emotions pass through those eyes before Eddie puts the sunglasses back on. Steve almost asks him to keep them off - entranced by the way they express everything he’s thinking. But that can be a dangerous thing, so he doesn’t press him about it.

When the captain announces that they’re about to land, Steve is truly upset to think about not getting the chance to see Eddie again. Maybe it’s the fact that Steve has taken a risk and finally left Indiana for once or maybe Eddie’s just one of the first people he’s hit it off with in a long time, but Steve asks, “Do you want to get coffee? After we land.”

Eddie’s tongue rests on his top lip, tracing it back and forth as he considers it. He finally responds, “I would love to, but I have an appointment as soon as we land.”

Steve lets the disappointment settle in him but tries his best not to let it show. “It’s alright.”

But Eddie fidgets with his rings, tongue still resting on his top lip as he debates something. “Do you have an Instagram?” He asks.

Steve laughs bashfully. “I do, but I never use it. Well, I do sometimes just to keep track of some kids I used to babysit honestly, like Dustin who I told you about.”

Eddie’s smile turns into a full blown grin. “Of course. Well, do you mind if I get your Instagram so I can message you with when I’m free? I would give you my number but… I’m afraid of it getting out. Not that you would do that but… people listening and whatnot…” Eddie spins his rings so anxiously fast that it makes Steve nearly laugh.

“Yes, I hope I remember it correctly because I didn’t come up with it,” Steve confesses. Eddie passes him his phone with the notes app open. He types in steve.the.hair.harrington and hands the phone back.

Eddie takes it back and laughs as he reads it. “It’s fitting,” he explains and reaches out to mess with a few strands.

“I try my best,” Steve replies with a shrug, wondering how he can get Eddie to touch his hair again.

“My hair stylist would love you,” Eddie says then freezes.

Steve smiles. “You have a hair stylist?”

Eddie struggles to respond but is given an out as the plane finally lands. He’s immediately reaching out to grab Steve’s hand, and he forgets all about the question.

Eddie doesn’t let go until people start making their way off the plane, using his hand to tilt his baseball cap a little lower and tuck in on himself. It’s as if he’s trying to avoid having someone see him, but Steve doesn’t want to pry so he doesn’t ask.

Eddie follows Steve off the plane and glances around once they get to the terminal. Then, he quickly pulls him into a hug and whispers, “Thank you for a normal flight.”

Steve has no idea what he means by that, but he just squeezes him back tighter. Eddie pulls away and lingers in his arms. Steve wants more than anything to take off his sunglasses and look into his eyes again.

There’s a sound of a camera going off that has Eddie jumping away and putting his hands in his pockets. “Think we’re near someone famous?” Steve jokes.

“Oh, I know we are,” Eddie says with a small smile that makes it seem like he knows something that Steve doesn’t. Before he can ask, Eddie is saying, “I hope I’ll see you again. Goodbye, Steve.” And with that he’s rushing off, pulling his baseball cap a little lower and directing his gaze towards the ground.

He’s strange, but Steve likes him.

The rest of his day, he has a spring in his step. And by the time he gets to his hotel, he collapses on his bed with a sigh of relief. He pulls out his phone and checks for any notifications before he realizes his phone has been on airplane mode. He turns it off and waits for a message from Robin or Dustin to appear on his screen.

Instead, he’s bombarded with notification after notification - including 27 missed calls from Dustin. He calls him immediately.

The phone rings for not even a second before Dustin is answering with a scream of, “Steve Harrington, why have you not answered your phone?!”

“I’ve been sightseeing. Is everything okay?”

“Check the photos I sent you!”

Steve rushes to his messages, finding them filled with people he hasn’t heard from in years. He ignores that and goes to his pinned messages with Dustin. He clicks on the first picture he sees.

It’s a poor quality photo of him and Eddie hugging in the terminal. He swipes to find a photo of him and Eddie holding hands on the plane. Then another one of him lingering in Eddie’s arm looking… very smitten. “Dustin where did you get these?” Steve asks swiping and even coming across a video of them talking on the plane, with Steve laughing as Eddie dramatically tells some sort of tale.

“Better question, how did this even happen Steve? Why didn’t you tell me?!”

Steve is thoroughly confused. “Dustin, I just met Eddie today. But seriously, how did you get these?”

There’s a pause on the other line and a breathed out, “Oh my god.” He can hear Dustin take a deep breath before he asks, “Steve, please tell me that you know who Eddie Munson is.”

“His last name is Munson?”

There’s a muffled scream on the other line before Dustin is launching into a speech about how Eddie is one of the most famous up and coming artists right now. And yeah Corroded Coffins does sound familiar, but it doesn’t click until Dustin explains that’s who Steve and the Byers are going to see in concert.

Oh.

Steve thinks back and everything clicks - especially the number of people who were staring at him and trying to sneak photos while he was out. He scrolls to a screenshot of a Twitter post with the caption, “did anyone else know that eddie munson has a boyfriend???”

Steve’s eyes widen. “Dustin, how many people think we’re dating?”

“The entire internet so basically the whole world,” Dustin says, and Steve doesn’t have time to even process that statement before Dustin is yelling, “Oh my god!”

“What?”

“Eddie Munson just liked a photo I was tagged in! Holy shit, he’s seen my face!”

“Yeah, dude, I told him all about you on the plane,” Steve says. And boy, that probably will not help with the kid’s ego.

Steve opens his Instagram, ignoring Dustin’s little screams on the other line, and takes in the sheer number of notifications. He quickly goes to his requests in his messages and finds one from therealeddiemunson. “Hey, Dustin, what does a blue checkmark mean?”

Dustin groans on the other line asking why it was Steve who got to meet him before finally explaining it. Steve accepts the request and stares at the message hey, you still on for that coffee?

Steve clicks on Eddie’s profile and his heart thuds. He’s pretty sure people aren’t supposed to have a “K” in their follower count. He looks at the recent photos and feels himself turn a bit red. He almost has no clue how the Eddie he met on the plane and Eddie Munson are the same guy.

“Dustin, if I turned down Eddie Munson for coffee would you ever be able to forgive me?”

“Don’t you fucking dare, or I swear to god I will never let my mom bake anything for you again.”

Steve laughs and with that he goes back to the messages and sends Absolutely :)

[dixons-sunshine]

No-Nonsense | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

A/N: I am so sorry this sucks. I’m moving in a few days, Saturday to be exact, and I’ve been packing non-stop today. When I finally sat down, my brain was fried and I couldn’t really think of words lol. This was the best I could do. I hope it’s still somewhat okay!

The sound of a disbelieving scoff being let out had Daryl tensing up. His cerulean-coloured eyes trailed over to where you leaned back against the wall, his hard, steel-like gaze resting on your face. “Ya got somethin’ ya wanna say, Sunshine?”

“Yeah, I do.” Your own angered stare rested solely upon the crossbow-wielding archer, T-Dog, Rick and the kid, Miguel or something, not even being on your mind at that moment. “I want a gun.”

Daryl rolled his eyes at your statement. He didn’t even know why Rick had bothered asking you along. If shit hit the fan, you wouldn’t be able to protect yourself, and the archer didn’t feel like dying for some woman he didn’t even care for. Sure, you were a resident at Atlanta General before the world ended and had come along to check if Merle had potentially suffered from heatstroke, but other than that, you were useless. At least, to Daryl’s knowledge.

“Yeah, well ya ain’t gettin’ one. I ain’t ‘bout to have my head blown off ‘cause’a yer shit aim,” Daryl told you defiantly. Truth be told, he did not even know whether or not you could use a gun, but if your hesitance towards even looking at Dale’s shotgun back at the camp was anything to go by, it was best not to trust you with a weapon that could potentially lead to his demise.

Cleverly sensing that the situation would escalate without an intervention, the self-appointed leader stepped forward and between your’s and Daryl’s line of sight. “No need to get at each other’s throats.” Rick sighed, rubbing his eyes in exhaustion. The last thing he wanted was for blood to be spilled over something as meaningless as an argument. The main concern was getting Glenn back. Rick turned towards you, an understanding glint in his eyes. “Shane told me you didn’t know how to handle a gun. I’m guessin’ he’s got it wrong.”

“Shane doesn’t know shit,” you spat bitterly, pushing yourself off the wall. “I know how to use a gun. I just don’t like it.”

“Yeah, well s’the way’a life now, Sweetheart. Better get to likin’ it real quick,” Daryl interjected before Rick could respond. He picked up his crossbow and slung it across his shoulder. “‘Sides, how do we know ya ain’t jus’ lyin’ to us?”

“You don’t,” you began, your jaw clenching as you tried to suppress your anger. “I could be lying to you, or I could be telling the truth. Either way, I’m not walking into that place with nothing but my good looks. So we can continue to argue about this all day, or you can stop being an asshole, shut up, trust me, and give me a goddamn gun, or else you can tend to your brother’s wounds on your own if we find him. Your choice.”

If there was one thing Daryl had to give you points for, it was your no-nonsense attitude. Most of the women at the camp seemed to fear him, but you didn’t. Time and time again, you stood up to both Shane and Merle. You refused to be belittled, and he respected you for that. You could stand your ground, regardless of the person you faced.

Swallowing his pride, because he sensed that he could potentially have been in the wrong, Daryl reached forward and grabbed a handgun from the table. He offered it to you, and when you wrapped your hand around the handle, his hand lingered on the weapon for a few moments. “Jus’ so ya know, I ain’t gon’ carry ya when ya shoot yerself in the foot.”

Against your better judgement, you sent him a small smile. “And I’m not gonna carry you when that guy shoots you in the ass for shooting him in his.”

Daryl let out a small huff of laughter. Under normal circumstances, the archer would have still been pissed. However, for some reason, seeing your smile made his anger fade away and be replaced with another feeling, one that unnerved him beyond belief. However, he pushed that odd, fluttery feeling to the depths of his mind. There were far more pressing matters at hand.

Before he could speak up, Rick’s voice flooded the air, making you and Daryl practically jump apart. “Now that that’s settled, let’s get goin’.” For added emphasis, he cocked his gun, motioning towards the kid. “Let’s get Glenn back.”

You spared one last look at the brooding archer. He gave you a small nod, a stark contrast to his previously angered, frustrated state. “After you,” he mumbled, motioning towards the door.

You sent him a playful smirk as you walked past him. “Why, thank you. That was almost gentlemanly of you.”

“Keep up the smart ass remarks and m’shootin’ an arrow into yer behind.”

[mondaymelon]

₊˚ෆ 𝐄𝐘𝐄𝐒 𝐃𝐎𝐍'𝐓 𝐋𝐈𝐄… | xiao, childe, scaramouche x gn!reader

⤷ art by @/Deltanpopo on twitter ! ❀

[ A coy thing, you are, daring to lie to them about your wellbeing. ]

— "I'm alright."

A scoff leaves XIAO's lips at your swift words, his mouth curling into a sneer, one absent of a smirk. His arms crossed over his chest, dark shadows cast over his eyes. "Come again?"

His glare was intense - dangerous, its malice not directed towards you, but instead to whatever had made you like... this. You could shield your form from his piercing gaze all you wanted. It'd do nothing to deter him. The knowledge he held of your character, the way your voice gave the slightest tremor, and the way your eyes slipped from his own... he let out a noise of annoyance.

"As I said, Xiao. I'm fine."

You were't a good liar. At least, from his knowing view. Unacceptable. His lashes fluttered as his eyes narrowed. Was he not reliable enough for the truth? Why was it that you'd refuse his assistance while you were clearly suffering?

"No." His voice was decisive, cold, but not in the manner of harsh, unforgiving ice, but the morning frost that bloomed on the dewy stalks of riverside reeds. "You aren't."

He felt your gaze pause at his lips, yet did not rise to meet his own. Your own mouth quivered, just the slightest, and you downcast eyes that glistened flicked their attention to the ground. "Xiao, I..."

You voice trails off. There's no need to say more. For you stood, enveloped in the adeptus' rare embrace, his pale skin cool, yet sparking an unquenchable warmth within your chest.

"If you aren't okay, that's okay. I'll just have to hold you in my arms, until you are." ₊˚ෆ

— "I'm alright."

A laugh escapes CHILDE's parted lips, a rather empty sound that resounded in your silence. It continues for a couple brief moments. "Ah, you're kidding, right?" He breaks into a smile that fades at the lack of your response. "Right?"

"Why would I be kidding?" You sighed, trying to sound as exasperated as possible. "I'm serious, Childe. I said I was fine." His gaze bore into you, to the point where you could feel your body smolder under his eyes. You shouldn't look at him now. Pursing your lips, you strengthened your resolve, but a moment of weakness upon hearing his shallow laughter was all it took to glance upwards. To meet his gaze.

A grave mistake, you had just unwittingly committed.

Before you could turn your head away, Childe's hand's caught you, one of them grabbing onto your chin and forcing your head to stay in place. "Say," his voice was low, quiet. A telltale sign of the anger that simmered underneath. "When did you get the notion that you'd be allowed to lie to me, and then get away with it scot-free, huh?"

The moment he had met your fleeting gaze, eyes locked onto yours, your verdict had been decided. Guilty. "Childe, it wasn't that I..."

"Oh, is it something you can't tell me, then?" His voice was softer now, but not in a threatening way, eyes melting with concern. Yes as much as he'd love to get at whatever - or whoever had made you so upset, he had a higher task of importance as of now. And that was to comfort the person before him, tentative under his touch. He slowly released his hold on your chin, instead giving your hair a ruffle that caused your locks to fly in disarray. "If so, then I won't push you anymore."

"I've... I've just had a really long day and-"

Your words lost their sound as instead, warmth replaced the quiet. Childe held you in his arms, delicately, like you were made of porcelain, and the slightest touch would shatter you. For someone as brash as him, to now stay silent, letting you let out all the world's concerns in his embrace...

"I won't say anything, alright? Just let it all out, and I'll listen." ₊˚ෆ

— "I'm alright."

At first, SCARAMOUCHE almost looks offended at your words. His brows are furrowed, and his eyes are drawn into a scowl. "What, care to repeat that? It's funny how you think you're fooling anyone."

It takes a moment to find your voice again, with how intense his eyes stare into you - indigo, flashing with electro power. Mesmerizing, dangerous, lethal if you drew too close. It didn't matter you supposed, you had already been in his reach for far longer than you cared to admit, and you had yet to be burnt away. "...I'm alright, nothing happened."

This time, your answer drew a startling laugh that bubbled from deep within him, a carnal yet almost melodious sound that flowed like water and blazed like flames. "Ah, that's funny. You've been hanging around the other Fatui, haven't you?" His gaze narrowed in distaste. "Disgusting, all of them. And from the likes of it, you've been picking up some nasty habits as well. Speaking nothing but the truth to me should be a given, yet you're saying such things without the slightest guilty conscience... I couldn't help but laugh!"

Guilty conscience my ass. Of course it took something out of you to lie to your.. lover. Yes, despite it all, Scaramouche was the one you were joined hands with - even in the male didn't act like it. Or perhaps he did, in a world of his own masked away in a guise behind a guise. His spark just drew you closer.

"Scara, you wouldn't understand...!" Don't get aggravated, keep your voice composed, steady. "It's... it's something personal, alright? I just.. I just don't want to talk about it right now. Give me time, please."

Please? His maniacal expression dimmed as he paused, just a brief moment. He hadn't hurt you, had he? No, you knew him well, well enough to know that that was just the person he was, didn't you? "...So it was like that?" He tried to hide his apologetic expression with a hand over the lower half of his face, but his eyes glistened regardless.

"Ah, just forget about it. If you're hurting, then... Come here, all right? I'll humor you, just for tonight." ₊˚ෆ

(a/n) okay okay so. i. im gonna try and post a fic every day this week. spoiler alert: its fucking exam week BUTBUT BUT im so close to a follower goal ive been wanting to reach and itd be so silly if we could hit it before new years!! that's why im gonna be listening to burnout playlists while typing away like my life depends on it.// wish me luck on my exams ahah. theyre tommorrow.

໒꒱ || ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ (open! send an ask or a comment ♡) : @manager-of-the-pudding-bank, @iamdedinside, @ilyuu, @achlysis, @swivy123, @scara-is-my-wife, @lupicalbestwolf, @justyoureader

-> teehee what if yall left a message on my christmas tree 😶😶😶

[macabr3-barbi3]

CTRL ALT DELETE- Task Manager (Vox/Reader)

Something's up with Vox and you offer to help troubleshoot- it both does and does not go how you're expecting it to.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/54688282

The least serious thing I've ever written: inspired by the time i started a timer in class one day to see how long my teacher talked about her son instead of teaching us; i ended up realizing 4 months later that i never stopped the timer and it was just running in the background and making my shit slow that entire time lmao there's a screenshot in the ao3 notes

Tags: Stress Relief, Sexual Tension, Chair Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Begging, Computers. Dirty Talk, very basic knowledge of computers

<3<3<3<3<3<3

Your new boss seemed stressed. 

Not in the usual way that he was stressed, either- the note from the assistant you had replaced was that usually when Vox was having an off day he would call for Valentino or have you pull a list of low earners for the month, banishing you from the room in either case. But he hadn’t spent any time with Val in months, basically the entire time that you’d been working with him as a personal assistant after getting promoted from a stage grunt for the news channel.

You had thought for a bit that he might make a move- that maybe that was why he promoted you, that he was charmed enough by you to end the on/off thing he had going on with Val, which made sense based on the timing. But when you tested that theory recently- made double entendres, brushed your hands against his arms or leg or back, blatantly invited him out for dinner and drinks- he didn’t seem interested. He declined your invite, allowed you to touch him without being overcome with lust, and the sex jokes just seemed to go whoosh. 

Right over his head. 

He was on edge and twitchy. He took longer to respond to things than he normally did, his processors slow, occasionally getting a ‘buffering’ message that flashed across his screen when someone asked a question. His hypnotic eye seemed to be suffering as well, the swirls having slowed down now to the point that they were no more mesmerizing than watching paint dry. It was frustrating and enraging him, and in turn frustrating you- he was fucking hot when he was angry, which didn’t help your attraction to him that he was ignoring. 

He was sitting at his desk in the control room when you entered, head in his hands as he stared at a piece of paper on his desk. The monitors were all lit behind him, showing recorded footage of the Tower throughout the day- you spotted a short recording of yourself talking to some of the marketing team a few hours ago. Like a Valentino caricature he read the paper, blinked his eyes a couple times, read it again. Picked it up and pulled it closer to his face like that would help, and his screen scrolled the words along the bottom like his internal system was trying to transcribe it so something he could understand. He finally dropped the paper with a groan, letting it flutter to the floor where it slipped under his chair and stopped just before you. 

“Are you okay, sir?” The question is out before you can stop it, and as was the normal recently it took a few minutes for him to answer. 

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” he muttered, swiveling around to look at you. He clutched the sides of his screen, eyes narrowed and mouth delayed in its movements as he spoke. “I feel like I can’t focus on anything. I can’t process anything. My- just, fucking everything is slow and useless in my head right now! How am I supposed to be a master media manipulator when I can’t fucking concentrate for more than two minutes at a time?”

“You have seemed more… stressed than usual,” you agree. “Are none of your usual relaxing activities helping? Or have you done any troubleshooting?”

He raises an eyebrow. “Pardon?”

“Troubleshooting,” you say again, and at his blank stare you chuckle a little. “You know, doing a couple ‘quick fix’ things to see if that’s what’s causing the problem. Do you have like, a cache or something that you have to clear? An archive dump to get rid of old files?” You let your eyes track his body from top to bottom. “I’m not super familiar with how your… anatomy works?”

God, but you wanted to be.

He blinks a couple times. “I think I used to have someone that did that for me,” he says. “Years ago. I fired them because it didn’t seem necessary, I was running perfectly fine.”

“Yeah, well, that might be what the problem is.” You offer him a soft smile. “Sometimes stuff will work in sub-optimal conditions for a while before it starts causing issues. I used to do programming customer support when I was alive- it’s been a while but I could take a look if you want?”

His mouth twists in a frown. “I guess so,” he agrees. “I’m desperate enough to try anything. I need to be able to fucking concentrate if the Vees are gonna stay on top, everyone fucking knows that Val is hopeless with the business aspect of everything.” He gets the buffering symbol on his screen for a few seconds, groaning and shaking his head as he clears. “What do you need access to?”

“Do you have a way to access your… system? Externally,” you clarify. “I’m not a surgeon- I don’t plan on cutting into you to get to anything.”

Vox gestures behind him. “I can hook up to the monitors,” he says, “but we’ll have to be pretty close, doll. I have to be sitting here to be hooked up, and since this is the only chair, looks like this will have to be your seat.” He pats a hand on his thighs, not so much an invitation as a statement.

You fucking wished. You know this isn’t him trying to initiate anything though- you’d been trying for long enough that you’re ready to give it up and just accept that your hot, overlord boss didn’t want to fuck you. Helping him out felt more important than that anyway, so you would do your best.

“You got it,” you say, and cross the remaining space to perch yourself gracefully on his lap. You push the inappropriate thoughts about how firm his muscles are underneath you- how exactly did this man’s body work? Was it really just his head that was not organic matter?- and let him rotate the chair back to face the monitors.

The sight is intimidating, as is the position- you’re surrounded by reflections of yourself from every angle, Vox’s lithe frame seated behind you. This is where he does most of his business, the background site of everything that VoxTec handles. And he’s trusting you to help him fix whatever is wrong with him so he can get back to handling all of that, free of distraction.

You watch as thick wires come up from the floor to plug into the back of his head, the sharp hiss making you wonder if it was painful or intrusive. You won’t ask though, not when you’re getting ready to try to restore him to his usual ruthless self; he might consider that to be prying.

He pulls something up on the main monitor, the one that sits directly across from you, and waves a hand to it. A little keyboard and mouse emerge from the desk as the monitor powers on, and when you glance back you can see the same thing reflected on his face. “Have at it,” you hear him say, even though you can’t see his mouth moving.

Ignoring his open programs for the time being in case he needs any of them, the first thing you do is go in and clear his archived files. He’s got entire terabytes of useless information; employee records for people that have been dead or fired for decades; funny videos that he saved; resources for old news stories that are no longer relevant. Some of it you help him upload to a cloud server- after explaining to him what a cloud server is- and create files to designate for actual important shit.

You find the internal browser that he uses to pull information on the fly and help him clear the cache and cookies.

You help him sort security footage from Vee Tower and get rid of stuff that wasn’t actually necessary, like the short bits of static and dead air that happened whenever he used the cameras to teleport around the building. Everything that he has saved about mentions of that fucking radio demon also goes into the garbage. There are some files you can’t access, things like his memories and day to day recordings of conversations and things that he personally is part of. 

You delete what you can and empty the recycling bin.

As the process has gone on, Vox has relaxed more and more behind you. “I still don’t feel completely back to normal,” he murmurs, “but this is already loads better. It’s like a massage directly on my brain. You know, if I still physically had one.”

You hit the keys to open his task manager- CTRL ALT DELETE. “Unholy fuck- Jesus, sir, if you thought that was good this is gonna feel orgasmic,” you say absently, scrolling through the opens apps and programs that he has running. Has this man ever closed anything? You hadn’t realized a person or device could even have so many things going at once. “Do you just leave everything open in the background?”

He peers around your shoulder, bracing his hands on your hips as he sits up a little straighter. The movement causes your stomach to drop, arousal threatening to make itself known, but you push the notion down as he sets his hands back on the arms of the chair. “I guess so?” He watches you scroll through the extensive list. “I guess it just never occurred to me to close them. Opening the programs to use is just like my stream of consciousness I suppose.”

“Kay, well, that’s stopping now.” You click on the first item on the list- VoxtaGram. “I recommend closing non-essential stuff out at least once a month. More, if you have the time to go through everything. For now, just in case, there is something important we’re gonna go through some of the more recently opened things, set them up to open automatically when you start up, before we reboot your system- wait, can we reboot your system entirely without killing you?”

“No worries there, dear. I can, I just haven’t done it in years because it can take a while to start back up afterwards.” He sneers at the social media page. “You can close that shit. Any of Velvette’s crap she can handle on her own. Same with any of the fucking games that Val loads up when he’s bored- can I delete those entirely? Or block them? Fucking moth and his blue-light addiction…”

You get through a lot of the list, Vox kind of dozing off and only passively participating in the process. You’ve got the gist of it; things like his news sources, contacts list and phone, and the notes app are staying open and set to automatically launch when he does reboot and start back up. Pretty much everything else is closed out, things he pulled up for two seconds weeks ago to check on something or another before abandoning it. You’re making excellent progress when the next thing on the list gives you pause.

“Vox? Why is this- oh my god.” You can’t help it- you start laughing, throwing your head back to rest on his shoulder as you look at what’s now displayed on the screen.

A stopwatch had apparently been started and never stopped. The elapsed time was over three thousand hours, which came out to something like four months if your mental math was correct. He had had this running constantly in the background since you had started working for him, possibly even before. “I think I found the problem,” you chuckled, and his eyes were narrowed as he looked at the timer continuing to tick. “What is this?”

“What the actual fuck?” He buffers for a second- and you’re pleased to note that it’s already much faster than it has been lately- before you hear a dinging sound coming from him. ‘Fucking Hell, I should have known this was all Valentino’s fault.” He drags a clawed hand down his screen in an imitation of a facepalm. “I was timing him. He was fucking ranting about Angel Dust again while we were in a strategy meeting with Velvette- I had the stopwatch going to see how much of the hour session he wasted talking about that whore. I must have forgotten to turn it off.” He barks out a laugh, throwing his head back with the force of it while you look at him with amusement. “I’m gonna owe you big time for this, doll, you’re a lifesaver.”

You close the app out with a smile. “Just trying to help,” you say. “I think that was probably the worst of it- do you want to just try rebooting now?”

He lets out a groan when the app closes, and the sound shoots through your body straight to your core. “Go for it, hun,” he says, eyes closed as he leans back against the chair. “I think I’m good to go now, but it can’t hurt. You were right, sorting this shit out feeling fucking good.”

You’re suddenly very aware of the dampness of your panties as you bypass ‘kinda horny’ straight to ‘fuck me on this desk.’ You scold yourself mentally: Don’t jump your boss. He’s trusting you to help him right now- do not take advantage of that. Do not ride his leg like you very clearly want to because his voice is fucking hot. Fucking focus.

You clear your throat, closing out the task manager and hitting the button to restart him. “See you in a bit, sir.”

You stay seated on his lap just in case- he might still have something he wants you to do when he comes back online, some settings you could apply to close out things that are used for more than a week or so. It’s definitely not because you like the feeling of his strong thigh underneath you, tantalizingly close to your cunt if you, by chance, decided to tilt your hips forward and start grinding down on him. 

After just a few minutes get a message on the main monitor telling you to wait a moment- things start popping up on the other screens surrounding the central one, and it takes you a moment to recognize the pattern.

Its all videos of you- shot from Vox’s perspective, and a mortifying blush takes over your face. They’re all the moments that you had tried coming onto him. The innuendos and subtle entendres, the times that you touched him, pressed yourself against him in a tight space despite having another way to get to the copy machine, when you had invited him out for dinner. There’s also videos where he had just been watching you, apparently, taken from a distance as you spoke with Velvette or passed instructions along to a member of the team or discreetly tried to hide behind a vending machine when you noticed  Val coming into a room. 

There’s a satisfied grumble behind you, and before you can turn to look at him Vox has settled his claws onto either side of your waist and shifted you over a bit, to rest directly on the erection straining his pants. 

Which is a surprise, albeit a pleasant one.

“Thanks for the reset, doll,” he says, and his voice is a quiet growl as he lets his hands wander from your waist to your hips and back again, claw tipped fingers catching on the fabric. “I got a chance to look at some files while I was under and found quite the treat in your logs.”

This could either be very bad or very, very good. “Sir-”

“You know, I’m usually pretty good at picking up what a woman is putting down. Imagine my surprise when I realize you’ve been coming onto me for weeks and my shit was so fucked up and bogged down that I didn’t even notice. Like that?” He uses one hand to point to a screen in the far left of the central monitor, while he snaked his other hand down to rest on your thigh, his hand large enough to encompass the muscle at the edge of your skirt. On the screen, you had come to his office to drop off meeting notes for something you attended on his behalf. You had dropped the stack as you came around his side of the desk, and got down fully on your knees to pick them up, glancing up at him through your lashes. You blush watching it now- it had seemed obvious to you even then, but watching it now, the way that Vox had seen it? When he didn’t say anything about you being face level with his prick you had used a hand on his thigh to brace yourself to stand up, letting your fingers run along the inner seam of his trousers when you rose back to standing. Still no reaction, and you had left his office equal parts turned on and irritated with yourself. Him not having acted on it had been the final nail in the coffin cementing the fact that he was not interested in the slightest.

You let out a weak exhale as the Vox sitting under you gets his other hand in the same position as the first, using his grip to ever so slightly spread your legs on his lap. He lets his fingers skim your inner thighs and you shake with the effort of not begging him to just touch you. This was delicious, agonizing torture.

“Had I been in my right mind for that display, baby, I would have fucking ṛ̣̬̫̍͌ͩ͟ụ̴̴̾̀͟͡i̧̻̻͉̜͑ͪ̾͟n̫̫̘̗͕̲̲̎ͥḛ̡̰̳͓̥ͬ͋ͪͧd̶̵̯̯̼̘ͨ̓ y͙͙̪̰ͫ͌́o͙͙̙̘̙ͤͫ͞ụ̴̴̾̀͟͡.” His voice crackles and glitches on the last words, and the sound of it forces a moan from your throat as you let your head fall back. You clutch your hands to the arms of the chair as his tongue- and who even really knew he had a tongue, what the fuck?- licks down the side of your jaw and at your exposed neck. “I would have had you choking on my cock before getting a taste of that sweet cunt and fucking you into the desk for hours.”

One hand finally slips under the edge of your skirt and you shiver when his fingers make contact with your soaked core. “Is that what you want now, babygirl? You want me to give you my cock as thanks for helping to set me straight? To make up for lost time?” He slides a finger under the thin material of your panties, groaning in your ear at how slick he finds you. “That’s what I want, doll. I want you to ride me so hard you go stupid with the feeling, and you never feel whole without some part of me in your cunt for the rest of for-fucking- ḛ̡̰̳͓̥ͬ͋ͪͧv̹̹̘̼̞̻͆ͩ̓ͪ͢ḛ̡̰̳͓̥ͬ͋ͪͧṛ̣̬̫̍͌ͩ͟.”

“Fuck, please,” you gasp out, the word devolving into a cry as Vox finally slides a finger into you, mindful of the claws as he pushes in and quickly follows the first with a second. He uses his free hand to hold your hips still as you try to grind into his digits, keeps you held firmly against his erection as you squirm in pleasure.

His sharp fingertips angle to prod gently at a spot inside of you that has you seeing stars; your eyes are clenched shut as you ride the feeling, so close to the edge you feel like you’re going to implode with the force of it when you finally tip over. “Fuck, sir, please, so c-close,” you mumble, and his tongue is back to licking at whatever parts of your skin it can reach.

“You wanna come like this, sweetheart?” The main monitor in front of you glitches out, and when it comes back into focus you see yourself on the screen- like a mirror, you’re reflected, and you can see Vox’s grinning face behind you. Your skin is flushed, sweat dripping down your face, the hint of tears along your lashline as your mouth drops open when he adds a third finger. “Look fuckin’ beautiful, baby, you were made for this- maybe we give Valentino a call, he could-”

“No!” You release the arms of the chair to grab onto his wrists where his hands meet your body. “No one- no one but you, sir. Vox, please, l- let me come. Please?” You let a little whine into your voice, and you can see the way his mouth goes lax and his eyes laser-focus on where you’re grabbing at his hands.

“I didn’t mean to join us, dollface, just to record- but you’re right, you’re right.” He pulls his fingers from your pussy, slicing the center of your panties in the process before he brings his digits to his mouth- you watch on the screen as he curls his tongue around each one, licks the flavor of you from his skin and glitches out at the taste. “How could I possibly share such a fucking vision with anyone else?

He shifts you to one side so he can get his dick out, and the sight of it in the monitor, his own arousal beading at the top and rock hard, has you whimpering before it’s even inside of you. He carried himself like a man with a big cock, but Christ.

“Hope you like what you see, hun, cause it’s all yours.” He scoots forward in the seat, tilts his hips forward for the right angle, and moves you back into your previous position with ease- this time, the tip of him is pushing inside you, and you watch in the monitor as you sink inch by glorious inch onto him.

Once you’re fully seated, Vox seems to lose capability for rational thought. “Fuck me, you’re perfect,” he moans, bracing his feet more firmly on the ground to thrust up into you, getting a firm grasp on your hips to pull you down into it. The result is a beautiful stab at that sweet spot inside of you that makes you clench and cry out, watching Vox’s hypnotic eye start spiraling at its normal speed on the screen, and you can see backwards scrolling text of his stream of thoughts- a bunch of nonsensical letters and cuss words interspersed with your name. “I want to fucking- chain you to my desk so I can have this perfect pussy whenever I want it. Fuck, I can’t believe we- we could have been doing this for weeks.” He punctuates his sentence with a hard thrust.

“A-all the more reason to regularly clear your task manager, sir,” you say, so caught up in the feeling of him railing you from below that you can hardly believe you formed a coherent thought. He feels so fucking good and you’re a hair trigger away from collapsing and wringing him for all he’s got.

With one quick movement he’s shifted, and there’s a hand on your throat arching you backwards at the same time that he gets a couple clawed fingers rubbing at your clit. The shock of the combination makes you flutter around his length, a choked noise escaping your throat before he tightens his grip- not enough to really cut off your air supply, but enough that your brain starts going soft and mushy and the vice grip your cunt has on his cock gets impossibly tighter. You can see the shine of your slick arousal coating him every time he pulls out to rut back into you, and the sights and sounds are threatening to rip you into the chasm of ecstasy that you’re flirting with. 

“Vox,” you whine, “please, I’m so fucking- please please please-“ 

“Christ, babygirl, whatever you fucking want.” His eyes are wide and frantic as they watch the place you’re joined, his mouth set in a snarl as he fucks into your pliant body. The cry you release is nothing short of agonized- it’s so fucking close you can taste it, nearly overwhelmed with the tension.

“You wanna fucking cum on my cock? Do it, angel, let me see it- come on, baby, cum for me-“

Your walls clench down hard as you reach your orgasm, Vox’s grip on your throat making your vision and mind go fuzzy with the force of it as you choke on a moan that tries to escape your tensed muscles. You’re distantly aware of Vox thrusting hard into you, more praise and curses falling from his lips as he hits his peak as well, pressing his screen to the side of your face when he relinquishes his handle on your throat to clutch at your hips and grind into your cunt as he spills inside of you. The aftershocks of your release leave you twitching, milking his cock of everything he has to offer before he collapses into the chair behind you, a boneless pile of a man now simply running his hands over any bit of skin he could reach. 

It’s truly a testament to how helpful the reset and reboot had been that Vox’s system doesn’t simply crash. “Fucking Hell, I haven’t felt this good in decades,” he mutters in your ear, and you shiver at the feeling of his tongue brushing the sensitive skin.

“Ha, you think that’s the reboot or the mind-melting orgasms?”

He hums contentedly. “Jury’s out on that, doll. Guess we’ll have to do a re-run on both and see how it stacks up to this one.”

“I’ll make sure to schedule some time out for it,” you chuckle before fixing him with a stern glare through the monitor. “I’m serious about clearing your apps and shit more frequently though. Christ, you had decades of backed up shit open-“

“Don’t berate me while my dick is still inside you, fuck.” He leans you forward far enough to pull out, and you grimace at the feeling of his cum starting to spill back out of you. He notices the expression though- “Whoops, sorry,” he says, and after a quick second during which he tucks his softening prick away he scoops you into his arms, standing from the chair and stepping away from the desk. “Let’s get you cleaned up at the penthouse, angel, what do you say?”

“If you’re carrying me then lead the way.” You gesture towards the door out of the control room. “Just don’t start any timers to see how long it takes to get there or anything and we should be good.”

The glare he fixes you with shouldn’t be hot, but it fucking is. “Hardy har,” he deadpans, and rolls his eyes while he stalks towards the elevator, control room door closing behind you; but there’s a small smile on his screen despite his ire and he’s functioning normally, and when you see the little stopwatch icon pop up in the bottom right corner of his face and start counting, you can’t help but laugh.

[ohimsummer]

BAD HABIT ft. BULLY! SATOSUGU

— minors dni, perverted!+bully! satosugu, uh light fluff? (mostly in the bonus?), mostly satoru x reader, fantasizing about smut (gojo), prob inaccurate college rep idc <3, pet names (princess, darling), explicit language, suggestive comments, some recording/photography, one mention of blackmail

summary; suffering exhaustion beneath a pile of college projects and exams wasn’t enough, now you’re stuck tutoring the most annoying men in the world. couldn’t hurt to take a little nap during it

wc 3.1k ??

The last few weeks have been long, nerve-wracking. It seems all your professors have co-conspired together to drop some kind of test or project, all worth a large portion of the grade and all due in the next month. Your nightly 8 hours of sleep have dwindled to a measly four, and of course, to top it all off, now your Bio Chem teacher has donned you the responsibility of tutoring Gojo and Geto indefinitely.

They had to have something to do with this, you just know it. Call it a wild hunch but there’s no way, of all the people in that class, a lot of which have higher grades than yours, that the professor would ask you to tutor Gojo and Geto. Maybe they slipped a few hundreds in the teacher’s hand or appealed to his emotions. Knowing the theatrics of Gojo, he probably gave the man big, puppy-dog eyes and crocodile tears during his fake pleas of ‘please, sir, we really want to pass this class!’.

A light knock on your door drags you out of your thoughts, followed by the familiar voice of a white-haired pest. “Knock, knock!”

You’ve been dreading 5PM since yesterday, the time they, and reluctantly you, had agreed on. Demanding they come to your dorm was akin to putting acid on your tongue, but going over to theirs like Geto’d offered would be like walking into the lion’s den.

They await you within the hall, and Gojo perks up immediately at the sight of you. He unwraps himself from Geto’s shoulders, and your suspicions that they don’t really need your knowledge only grow when you notice they’re both empty-handed, not a book or worksheet or even a flash card in sight. Though you can’t dwell on it for too long as Gojo’s immediately barging into the room.

“Princess, good to see ya!,” comes his boisterous greeting. “Nice place ya got here.” Entwined in his teasing compliment is a conniving tone; Gojo examines the various pink decor of your bedroom. “Should come by more often.”

“Negative.,” you snap with furrowed brows, terse and patience already wearing thin at Geto’s languid pace through the door.

He nears Gojo to study the photo album adorning your tack board, leaving you to prepare by getting out the needed textbooks. You ignore their childish whispers, giggles, points at the various pictures that contain you and your friends, though it causes a bout of unease to settle in your stomach. Hopping onto the tall bed, you scoot until your back’s to the wall, placing down a recently-made stack of notes and the class’s assigned textbooks. It’s a short hunt for the page you desire, somewhere lost in the middle because this professor jumped from subject to subject so often.

You clear your throat to signal it’s time to begin. “Okay. So–“

Already you’re off to a bad start as the textbook disappears from your grasp, now suspended above Gojo’s head, far out of your reach. “This looks super bo-oring!”

You spring away from the sheets, landing with a soft ‘thud’ and instantly move to crush his feet, or kick his knees in, or have him hunched over with a punch to the stomach, but your movements are halted by Geto’s sudden grasp on your waist. Head jerking to the side, you shoot him your deadliest stare, nails steadily sinking into his unfortunately clothed forearms.

“Let go.,” you bark and he doesn’t move a muscle.

“Pft. Aren’t you adorable?,” he murmurs into your neck, tone bathed in condescension. “Just relax, he’s joking.” Against your wriggling and squirming, Geto backsteps to the shiny wooden desk in your room, still clinging to your waist. “Have a seat, it’d do you some good to calm down a little.”

And before you know it, he’s descending into the cool comfort of your chair, dragging you with him to rest in his lap. Gojo slams the book shut and approaches your restrained, restless form, grinning wildly the whole time. He pushes you back to recline atop his friend, thoroughly amused at your continuous flailing. A round of delighted laughter leaves Gojo’s lips, especially at the childish kick of your legs that don’t reach the floor from your position.

“Would you let fucking go of me?,” you huff between grunts, only to be met with Geto’s thoughtful hum.

“I might when you relax.,” he finally speaks.

You twist around in Geto’s lap to jab an enraged finger at his broad chest, a disdainful scowl painted across your features. “Did you two come here to play, or did you come here to learn?”

Gojo reaches out to ruffle your hair, smirking when you slap his hand away. The book precariously wobbling on his fingertips begins to fall, caught by him at the last minute before it hits the floor. “Can’t we do a little bit of both?”

Your toes brush the rug as you scramble forward in Geto’s lap, promptly ignoring the growing hardness you feel on your behind. “If you two aren’t gonna take this seriously then get out of my room.”

Geto chuckles as Gojo heaves out a loud sigh, and holds the textbook out to you. “Fine, jeez, you’re such a little buzzkill.”

You leap up from Geto’s lap and snatch it back. “Shut the hell up and sit down.”

Tension seeps away as they obey without question. Geto claims your swiveling desk chair as Gojo flops down on the huge, pink carpet covering majority of the floor, and you settle back onto the bed, flip again to the designated page and begin going over your plans for today’s tutoring session. You can feel two pairs of eyes burning into you, but opt to just concentrate on dumbing down the material for them.

Gojo zones out immediately as you dive into the information. Ocean blue eyes catch onto the curves and dips of your body and admire the cute loungewear you have on. Snug, white shorts that hug your skin and ride up the crease of your plush thighs. He studies the curve of your ass long enough to realize he can spot pink panties barely showing through the translucent fabric. With the way you’re sitting, knees midway pulled to your chest, Gojo can see the outline of your pussy, and blood rushes to his dick as his mind goes haywire. Gojo visualizes a different scenario, one where he spikes that stupid textbook into the floor and fucks you senseless. He can imagine perfectly the look on your face as he pins you to a mattress, voice wavering through false bravado as you whine through plump lips at him to move. Complaining even though your rounded thighs are rubbing together to ease the ache of your cunt, a damp spot forming in the crotch of your shorts as Gojo peppers kisses along your neck. The view of your beautiful tits with perked nipples rubbing against his chest and driving Gojo insane until he rips the thin layers off, both the panties and shorts together to leave your glistening pussy bare for him, ready to be ravaged and abused by his cock–

“Gojo.” He hears his name, but it’s like someone calling him underwater. “Gojo.”

A sharp kick in the ribs and he’s at full attention. Geto snickers at him, still swiveling back and forward in the leather chair, and Gojo looks over to meet your sharp dagger of a glare over the textbook.

“It’d be nice if you could focus on me and not waste my time.,” you sigh in utter annoyance.

Gojo grins that boyish smile, one that makes you want slap it off his face but maybe also makes your heart stutter a tad. “Oh-ho, babe, I‘m always focused on you.”

His statement brings a warmth to your cheeks, but you’re an expert at pretending around Satoru Gojo. Rolling your eyes, you huff and backtrack on a couple paragraphs in an effort to catch him up. Less distractions for him to latch on to.

“I think I’d focus more if I wasn’t so lonely down here.,” he interrupts to sulk in your direction.

The look you give is like one a mother gives a disobeying child. “Okay? No one told you to sit down there.”

You regret the words as soon as they leave your mouth, especially since Gojo perks up at the sentence. “Oh, inviting me to sit on the throne with you, princess?”

Eyes widening in disbelief, you try to sputter out a ‘no!’, but Gojo’s already sprung up and leaping into bed next to you. “No takebacks!”

You frown, brows knitted as he gets a little too comfy, squishing your favorite stuffed animal in his arms and blinking a wide-eyed look at you. Geto eyes you two and continues slow swirls in the chair, getting slightly dizzier with each rotation, but at least he’s actually been taking in the information you’ve explained. Not that he needs your tutoring, he’s up there with you as one of the top students in this particular class. But it’s hard not to read your lips when he’s been shamelessly ogling them the past ten minutes.

Sighing in defeat, you allow Gojo to curl up next to you. It’s easy to feign his attention and he pretends to read over your shoulder, though his mind is anywhere but in this textbook. If anything, this was far worse. Being in such close proximity, your alluring scent threatens to drag him deeper into your space. Instead of focusing on your body or, you know, the material, now all Gojo can concentrate on is pinpointing the ingredients of your shampoo. It’s so familiar, right on the tip of his tongue…vanilla? Maybe, but he can also catch hints of strawberry in there somewhere. Perhaps if he was a little closer…

“Can you back off a little?,” you snap at him. “Damn, you’re almost on top of me.”

Gojo smirks. “I can be actually on top of y-“

“Anyways you two can look over this.,” you ignore his flirtatiousness and stand up to get away from him. “Since you apparently know this more than me. I don’t even get why y’all asked for tutoring if you weren’t gonna listen.”

And before Gojo can object, you teeter towards the edge of the bed, land on the soft rug, and head towards the mini fridge for a much-needed drink of water. It’s bad enough you were asked to tutor them when they clearly don’t care for it, but for them to actually come and then waste your time, too? Egregious. You have half a mind to kick both of them out and tell the professor they don’t need anyone’s damn help, much less yours.

You bend over for a cold water bottle, and in the few seconds it takes you to grab it, you swear you hear the faint sound of a camera click behind you. Quiet noises follow after, almost like they’re trying to have a conversation without you noticing, but it’s silent as you turn around to continue the lesson. They’re so fucking weird. Whatever.

Drawing near the bed, you steady a hand and make ready to hop back into place, only for a strong pair of hands to hoist you up and set you on the edge. You let out a soft ‘oh!’, sincerely taken aback, and turn to look at Gojo, who’s readjusting back into his original spot like nothing has happened.

“What?,” he asks. Something about the nonchalant upturn of his lips is different than his usual smirk. Something more genuine and less smug.

Doubt clouds your vision, tugs the corners of your lips down as you glance between him and Geto, who’s halted his endless chair twirling to give a curious tilt of his head. They eye eachother, and then you again; Geto has the smallest smile, seemingly unassuming but you’re skeptical of it nonetheless.

“Nothing.,” you decide to dismiss it because you’d only be setting yourself up for failure trying to explain why it was a problem. Besides, addressing it would only serve to fuel Gojo’s numerous efforts to throw everything off track. Maybe he was seriously just trying to help. Fine, no big deal.

You awkwardly flounder backwards, making sure to put a few more inches of space between you and Gojo. All to no avail since the second you settle your laptop upon your bare thighs, he instantly closes the gap. The radiating heat of his body sends warmth throughout your skin, exhaustion catching up to pierce through your bones, and you find yourself wanting to swaddle up within blankets and go to sleep.

“The professor has a few study guides on the website.,” you yawn, keys clicking beneath your fingers until the aforementioned pdf file is loading down the screen. “Hundreds of questions but a lot of this stuff will be on the final, so it’d be helpful to study it all.”

Your eyelids flutter, and next is Gojo’s low voice in your ear. “Tired, princess? I thought you were supposed to be teaching us.”

His warm breath raises goosebumps on your skin, and you suddenly notice how cold this room is. “Fuck off.,” you mutter, shortly followed up by both their chuckling.

“Told you to relax.,” Geto voices in the most ‘told ya so’ tone ever. “Get some rest, we can take it from here, and we’ll wake you if we need something.”

It’s a bad idea, you know it’s a bad idea, but…you can’t help succumbing to a little nap. The past several days have worn you thin, and despite not trusting these two to find a drunk in a bar, let alone have unsupervised access to your room, the promise of a little sleep is tempting. You are exhausted so, against your better judgement, you bank on the fact that they have the potential of grown, mature men who won’t get up to something nefarious while you rest your eyes for a little. Surely it couldn’t hurt to put the slightest amount of trust in them, and you allow your vision to fade.

During your catnap, you have the poor luck to dream of school. Studying, finals, projects, classes, anything related to college, you conjured up an even more miserable version of it in your dream state. Though in one dream you cuddle that stuffed animal Satoru grabbed from your bed, so that’s a plus. In the dream it’s warm, snuggly, fuzzy. You smother it in your arms, bury your face into it to inhale the smell of it, a scent you’re infatuated with. You vaguely recognize it in your sleep, it smells so much like…

You awake to the jostling of your shoulders. Someone, two people actually, are talking, maybe to you? What are your whereabouts, actually?

“Ah, there she is!” The familiar voice sounds vague and foggy, loud but far away. “Have a good nap, princess?”

Harsh light beams into your eyes, tampering with the return of your sight. You hover a hand over your forehead to shield your face, peering around in a hope to get your bearings.

“I think she’s still half-asleep.,” another voice whispers, and then says louder, “Take your time, darling.”

Everything is bleary, but you can just make out the details of your room. There’s your fridge over on the opposite wall, the lamp on your desk, speaking of which, who’s in your chair? You start to sit up, wondering in the back of your mind when you laid down to begin with, utterly bewildered when you feel something, a hand, firm and warm on the bare skin of your hip. Pink bedsheets, white dorm walls, your legs, someone else’s legs stretched out beside yours…A chuckle rings somewhere to your right as you gape at these seemingly disembodied legs. Your gaze trails up to see they’re attached to a waist, a chest, a pair of arms, and then your eyes fall on the face.

“G–!”, you hesitate, stumbling backwards away from Gojo who laughs maniacally. “Get off me, Gojo!”

He scoffs, Geto huffs a laugh somewhere in the room. “You were the one laying all up under me, actually.”

“I was not!”

“You so were,” he argues, giddiness in his voice. “You were allll over me, baby. Hugging my arm, rubbing my chest, all of it. Wanna see the video?”

You gasp out, “Vi–? Video?”

Gojo fiddles around on his phone. “Yeah, check it out, sweet cheeks!”

He holds the phone out to you, and a large, empty feeling plummets to the bottom of your stomach. You, spooning him, a betraying smile spread on your lips as you nuzzle Gojo’s chest, completely oblivious to your surroundings. His hand snaked around your waist, fingers occasionally playing with the hem of your shirt or ducking beneath to pinch your hips. You whine when he does so, and in the video you see the stutter of his body, hear traces of his quiet laughter. The phone currently shakes in Gojo’s grasp from his endless giggling.

“Delete it!,” you stammer in complete disbelief. “Pervert!”

“Pervert?,” Gojo repeats your accusation. “You’re the one feeling me up in the video!”

“Get y’all’s asses out of my room!,” you shout at them, leaping to the floor to immediately escort them out. “Both of you, now!”

Gojo glares, huffs, and does his signature pout, all the while Geto chuckles hysterically behind his palm. “How rude of my tutor to kick me out after falling asleep during the session on top of trying to seduce me!”

Geto chimes in before you can tell his friend to shut the fuck up. “Surely you can spare a few minutes to make up for that time?”

“No.,” you say bluntly. “Out.”

You watch in disapproval as they grab their things, foot tapping impatiently the whole time as you hold the door wide open for them to leave through. They take their time, eventually prompting you to just start shoving them out into the hall.

“So, same time tomorrow?,” Geto teases, stumbling through the doorway.

You grimace, giving them both a last push out of your room. “Absolutely not-“

“And get some rest too, while you’re at it.,” Gojo bids you farewell with one last aggravating comment.

“Whatever.,” and you slam the door in their faces, Satoru poking his tongue out at you with a wink.

bonus!

— It’s the early hours of the morning. Geto has long since passed out, but Satoru can’t seem to get a wink of sleep. The video replays in his mind, and he tries desperately to imagine the sensation of your body laying against him. No teasing, no sex, no filthy, perverted thoughts. Just the feeling of your head on his chest again, limbs haphazardly wrapped around him. The even sounds of your breathing, warm breath brushing over his collar. Such an adorable, peaceful look on your face when you’re not glaring at him and spouting insults in a rage. Yeah, he told Geto he was taking pictures and a video as some kind of future blackmail, but, truth be told, Satoru really just wanted them all for himself.

[pretzel-box]

Hi! Hello! How are you doing? I hope you're having a great day. This is the first time I requested something so pls bare with me. So I really like the swap!Sebastian and swap!/payment received reader, so can I request a second part where Sebastian bought readers file and maybe some fluff and comfort, that'd be soooo cute and what comes next is up to you.

Anyways thanks for taking your time in reading this and it's also okay if you ignore this😊😊😊

Tags: Comfort, Fluff, Reverse AU, gn! experiment reader & human sebastian, sequel to previous chapter

Words: 1,1k

Authors Note: Since the story progresses differently, I tried to at least write the fluff and comfort part after Seb saw the tapes!

Sebastian’s breath hitched as he tried to steady himself, his heart racing and his mind a chaotic mess of thoughts. He hadn’t expected to break down like this, not here, not in front of you. He had always prided himself on being composed, on having a plan. But those tapes… the sight of what you had gone through—the screams, the agony, the helplessness—it had torn through him like a knife. He didn’t know how to cope with the knowledge of your suffering, and now, here you were, laughing so freely, so blissfully unaware of the turmoil in his heart.

“Ah, there you are!” Your cheerful voice had greeted him when he walked into the shop, his eyes still red and puffy from the tears he had tried to hold back. Your smile was so genuine, so full of light, and it only made the ache in his chest worse. He wanted to protect that light, to shield you from any more pain, but he didn’t know how.

“Look!” You said, holding up the recorder with a playful grin. “I recorded a wall dweller getting hit by Pandemonium. It got squished like a fly.” You played the clip for him like it was some kind of small victory, a moment of dark humor to lighten the mood. But Sebastian couldn’t focus on the video. He could only see you—the real you—behind the cheerful facade.

He felt a lump form in his throat, his eyes welling up with tears again. You noticed the shift in his expression, the way his face crumpled with a pain you couldn’t quite understand. “God, Sebastian,” you teased gently, though your voice was tinged with concern. “Don’t tell me you’re getting emotional over a wall dweller.”

Sebastian didn’t respond. He just stood there, tears streaming down his cheeks in silent waves. The shame of his breakdown mixed with the overwhelming sadness he felt for you, for everything you’d endured, for every piece of you that had been broken and put back together. He hated that he couldn’t control this, that he couldn’t stop crying in front of you. He felt so raw, so exposed.

You blinked, your teasing smile fading as you realized this wasn’t just some passing moment of sentiment. You stepped closer, your expression softening as you took in the sight of him—Sebastian, your normally composed and snarky companion, now reduced to tears.

Without a word, you wrapped your arms around him, pulling him into a comforting embrace. His body stiffened at first, but then he melted into your touch, his head resting against your shoulder as he let out a shaky breath. You held him close, your hand stroking the back of his head, fingers tangling gently in his hair. The other hand moved up and down his back, soothing him with gentle, rhythmic movements.

“It’s okay, Solace,” you whispered softly, your voice a calming melody against the storm raging in his mind. “The wall dweller is at a better place.”

Sebastian let out a choked laugh, a mix of a sob and a chuckle, shaking his head against your shoulder. “It’s… it’s not about the damn wall dweller,” he muttered, his voice thick with emotion. “It’s… it’s you.”

Your brows furrowed in confusion, pulling back slightly to look at him. “Me?” you asked, searching his tear-filled eyes for answers. “What about me?”

He took a deep, shaky breath, trying to steady himself enough to speak. “I saw the tapes,” he admitted quietly, his voice breaking on the last word. “I saw… what they did to you. What you went through.”

Your eyes widened in surprise, your grip on him tightening instinctively. “Sebastian…” you whispered, your voice softening with understanding. “You… you saw those?”

He nodded, tears spilling down his cheeks again. “I’m so sorry,” he choked out. “I’m so sorry for everything they did to you. I just… I don’t know how you’re still standing here, smiling like that.”

You felt a pang in your chest, a mix of sorrow and affection for the man in front of you. You knew the tapes were horrifying—brutal, even—but you had long since come to terms with your past. It was a part of you, yes, but it didn’t define you. Not anymore.

You cupped his face gently, wiping away his tears with your thumbs. “Hey,” you said softly, your voice a soothing balm to his frayed nerves. “I’m okay, Sebastian. I’m still here. I’m still… me.”

He looked at you with such a mix of awe and disbelief, his heart aching with every beat. “But how?” he whispered. “How can you just… move on from something like that?”

You gave him a small, knowing smile. “Because I have to,” you replied simply. “Because if I let it define me, if I let it break me, then they win. And I refuse to let them have that power over me.”

Sebastian stared at you, his heart swelling with a mixture of admiration and love. He had always been drawn to you, always found himself captivated by your spirit, your strength. But now, more than ever, he realized just how much you meant to him—how much he needed you in his life.

He pulled you closer, burying his face in the crook of your neck as he let out a shuddering breath. “I’m so sorry,” he repeated, his voice muffled against your skin. “I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you from that.”

You smiled softly, your hand continuing to stroke his hair. “You’re protecting me now,” you whispered. “That’s what matters.”

You felt him nod against your shoulder, his arms wrapping around you tighter as if afraid to let go. And in that moment, you knew that no matter what had happened in the past, no matter what horrors you’d both faced, you would face them together. And together, you would heal.

As the two of you stood there, wrapped in each other’s arms, a small, playful smile tugged at your lips. “Besides,” you added, your tone teasing, “I bet that wall dweller’s in wall heaven now, with all his little wall dweller friends. Don’t you think?”

Sebastian let out a watery laugh, pulling back to look at you with a mix of exasperation and affection. “You’re impossible,” he muttered, a small smile breaking through his tears.

“And yet,” you said, grinning up at him, “you’re still here.”

He couldn’t help but chuckle, his heart feeling a little lighter, a little more whole. “Yeah,” he admitted softly. “I am.”

And as you stood there together, holding each other close, you knew that even after Sebastian saw the tapes, he would be alright. Just like you are.

[astrologydayz]

ASTROLOGY FUCKING NOTES

WHY do people say that if someone's planets falls into your 7th house, then YOU'RE THEIR IDEAL LOVER??? Bitch bye. If someone's planets falls into YOUR 7th house, then U DIG THEM OR HATE EM, AS IT'S YOUR 7TH HOUSE! Let's say that your crush planets falls into your 1st and 7th house, then obviously u like their looks (1st house) and the way they show themselves off 2 other people, (how they treat other people/people u know (7th house! Don't project.

Pluto conjunct Ascendant in synastry, is a stalker aspect🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️. It kinda reminds me of Hailey running around after Justin at his interviews, when they were young and he had no idea🤨🫣😭🤣 . SO FUCKING CREEPY. Pluto is obsessed, and way 2 "fixated" on the asc person. It can get dangerous, cuz ASC person has no idea about how deeply the obsession runs with Pluto, fr💀. The worst part is that they usually know that the Pluto person can be kinda "creepy", but not about how deep it actually runs. U won't ever really know with Pluto, cuz they won't even give out 20% of their secrets - they can't help it. Unless they literally have no aspects from Pluto 2inner planets in their own natal chart.

Your Bella asteroid - 695 conjunct/trine/quintile someone’s ASC means that the ASC person finds u really beautiful, (physical attraction) 🍒🫦. With the opposition it's on & off, like sometimes yeah and other times no - It switches. With the square/quincunx - takes time, but grows into a really strong attraction, the longer you're 2gether/know each other.

Why the fuck do people think that 8th house energy is only about sex and intense connections? If a person has planets in your 8th house = that person does not like u 9/10 times. They'll talk shit about u when u ain't present/gaslight u/do things behind your back. They're usually jealous of u. Trying 2 cross your personal boundaries all the fucking time. WHO GOT TIME4THAT?? NOT ME LOVE⚠⚠.

Why do Cap inner placements/points always get a "boring", or a "cold" rep? We just don't like u? Trust me. We'll show u a good time, if we think you're worth it.

Jupiter is not only good. It enlarges EVERYTHING. So if someone has Sado asteroid (118230) conjunct Jupiter in their natal chart = a very smart/knowledgeable Sadist. They want to know everything! Hours&hours of research. They can't get enough with Jupiter! They're into some sick shit, and can use some really AGGRESSIVE ways 2 create that "pain and suffering". "shhh, I'm here baby, it's okay"🤨. 9/10 times = addiction 2 being that Sado "teacher" with Jupiter here🔞🔞. They can even brag about it!

Nessus asteroid - 7066 in synastry can definitely cause sexual attraction. But the Nessus person will always take advantage of the other person, no matter what. It may not be as "in your face"/prominent, like it is with the conjunction/square/opposition, but it will take place. Some can like Nessus contacts in synastry, if they have Nessus aspecting their own planets - especially inner planets, or points. And they can also handle Nessus energy way more, than someone who doesn't really have any Nessus contact, as they're already used to it. It doesn't make it good tho.

WOMEN with Black Moon Lilith conjunct/square/opposite Mars can hate being touched by men. Can also have trouble regarding intimacy with men in general/bc of their experiences with them🪚🪚. I have this, and if a man touches me out of nowhere = I'll punch him back 2 the year he should have stayed in a fucking condom 🦄.

Lilith asteroid - 1181) in 3rd house synastry can mean that the house persons siblings doesn't like Lilith if it's "poorly" aspected😮‍💨😮‍💨. Or that house persons siblings doesn't even want 2 try 2 create a relationship, because they already heard so much "shit" about Lilith🫠🫠.

💜 Pluto conjunct asteroid Valentine - 447) in a natal chart loves so fucking hard. They'll literally take a bullet 4 the person they love. They don't “create” a connection with anyone easy either. They're so intense when it comes 2 love, and with how they connect 2 another being. They transform/find themselves - Pluto, through those few people they do end up loving. Most people can't handle their intense ways of showing love🖤🔫.

Inner planets in Gemini degrees 3/15/27° in a natal chart are the real champions, when it comes to overthinking - but knowing everything beforehand. They already thought about ALL the different outcomes, 2 every fucking situation!🫰🫠😍🤭. They already know what time it is, before u tryna tell em.

Look at your Vertex persona chart 2 c what kind of fated things you're supposed2 go through in this life ✍👀. Make a synastry chart and c if your Vertex chart makes any significant aspects 2 your natal! It can show important life events/secret fated "events" that won't be seen in just natal or Vertex pc alone👽.

Lol, I'VE SEEN A LOT OF PEOPLE SAY THAT ARIES RISING WILL HAVE RED HAIR, OR COLOR THEIR HAIR RED AT SOME POINT? I'm an Aries rising, and I would rather get shot in the face. I'm naturally blonde, and honestly? I haven't met a single Aries rising who has red hair, or would color their hair red.

Anti - Vertex persona chart shows what YOU choose2 let into your life, and what u choose 2 do without fate intervening. It also shows u how u choose 2 act, in moments where u find no "meaning", and that's where your Vertex pc comes in right after - Fate intervening 🔮🔮.

Pluto opposite ASC/conjunct DSC in synastry can show the Pluto person deciding/or trying to at least, who the house person talks 2/surrounds themselves with. They can think a person is "bad company" 4 the house person. They can be in DSC persons business, a lot! House person is alarmed/or not, depending on how Pluto is aspected in their own chart. If Pluto is afflicted = they kinda like it.

ANYONE who has benefitted/benefits from me = a planet/point/NN/Vertex/asteroid conjunct my POF. Your POF is all the things (material/or spiritual wealth/growth), u have "picked up" on/will pick up on throughout your life. U "help" others with that planet/point or asteroid in synastry💰🦉💳.

Star asteroids - Starr - 4150), Kallisto - 204), Fama - 408), Europe - 52), actor - 12238), Lumiere - 775 - acting, Apollo - 1862), Talent - 33154), Klio - 84), Fan - 151590), Records - 30718), Varuna - 20000) Webb - 3041).

✨✨✨✨🎭🎬🎨

Music, writing&poetry asteroids - Polyhymnia - 33), Euterpe - 27), Apollo - 1862), Terpsichore - 81 - song and dance) Luscinia - 713 - Singing), Melpomene - 18, Harmonia - 40), Erato - 62), Kalliope - 22), Singer - 10698), Cantor - 16246 - singing), Poesia - 946), Parthenope - 11 - singing), Tone - 1266), Echo - 60), Mnemosyne - 57). 

🎤🎧🎼

"Lucky asteroids" - Fortuna (19), Opportunities - 39382), Paradise - 2791), Winner - 15606), Abundantia - 151), Angel - 11911), Bless - 92891), Bonus - 10028), Tyche - 258), Midas - 1981), Magion - 2696), Spirit - 37452), Nike - 307).

🍀🍀🍀

Please look at these asteroids in synastry. Prey - 6157), Sado - 118230), Devience - 21419), Nessus - 7066), Pain - 5188), Lie - 26955), Blink - 4425), Nemesis - 128), Swindle - 8690), Lilith - 1181), Hades - h41), wild - 1941), Fanatica - 1589), Medea - 212), Savage - 29837), Not - 2857), Pervert - 18624), Hard - 28077). 

🔞

THANKS4READING BABE!!

Appreciate u, always❤️

[girlbeyondthegrave]

There's a lot of conversations about how the ship being filled with mouthwash is meant to be a commentary about capitalism and the way workers are often broken down to produce luxury items for the upper class, but I'd also like to add that JIMMY himself IS mouthwash.

At face value, mouthwash is great. It cleans out icky bacteria and leaves you with minty fresh breath. It is helpful. However, it is also dangerous. As Anya says, the sugar contents rule out the possibility of it being a disinfectant, while someone less knowledgeable on the topic may read the alcohol contents and mistake it as a viable alternative. Ingesting large amounts can a) make you drunk; b) make you sick; or c) kill you.

At face value, Jimmy is an okay guy. He's been with the company a long time, and has now worked his way up to co-pilot. Sure, he doesn't do his psych evaluations, but surely someone making silly jokes is harmless, right?

While it makes the most sense for Anya to notice that mouthwash cannot be a detergent as a nurse, she is also the only person that has experienced the threat Jimmy can pose to someone's safety while still being able to talk about it. Curly knows who Jimmy is now, but doesn't have the means to tell anyone. She is the most qualified to both see what mouthwash really is and who Jimmy really is, which is why she talks to Swansea and gives a cryptic speech from behind the medical room's door, knowing that Diasuke can hear it and hoping he will ask Swansea about what she meant.

Every time a crew member gets too close to Jimmy, they are damaged by their dynamic with him. Anya was sexually assaulted and pregnant when she ultimately decided the best way to take control back was to end her life. Curly is disfigured, missing limbs, in constant agony--he is frozen in that state. He will not wake up peacefully. Daisuke is manipulated by Jimmy and is injured. Swansea kills him to end his suffering, this boy who was so kind and warm and young. Swansea killed a man barely of age so he wouldn't end up in drawn out agony like Curly. He confessed that he knew who Jimmy really was, and he paid the price with his life.

Jimmy keeps saying he's going to fix things, but he makes them worse. He is not disinfectant. He does not heal. He does not protect. He is mouthwash. He hurts you slowly. He ruins your insides. If you aren't too careful, he'll kill you.

But hey, at least your breath is minty fresh, right?

[rninies]

✮ math problems

౨ৎ veritas ratio x reader. fluff, gn!reader, annoying ass ratio — wc: 711

notes. IM FINALLY BACK HI EVERYONE WHO MISSED ME (probably no one)

veritas ratio is known to be the math expert in your university. not only was he the top student in your class, but the first-place champion in the mathematics olympians last year. sure, most girls are after him for his intelligence, but he is also insanely good-looking. lucky for you, veritas has had his eyes on you ever since your first day in university. it wasn’t a necessarily admirable first meet, but you came in late for your first class, and the only seat available was right next to veritas (you are sure every single girl in your class was looking at you with jealousy).

ever since that day, veritas has made it his goal in life to annoy you with his stupidly smart use of vocabulary and math knowledge. While he is basically flying as free as a bird during math class, you are suffering, not understanding a single meaning on your worksheet.

veritas, seeing you looking down on your paper confused, laughs mockingly. “are you seriously stumped over a math question? you know that’s the first question, right?” he places a hand under his chin, using it as a support to look at you. “do you need help?”

“no!” you immediately decline his offer, wanting to prove that you did not need his help. but, after five minutes of looking over the formulas and back to the worksheet, you sighed in despair, forehead coming into contact with the table. “okay, fine. Help.”

veritas raises his eyebrows. “ask nicely, then i will consider.”

you groaned. “please help me.” 

veritas smiles, satisfied. “okay, you need to use this formula instead of the formula you’ve been staring at for the past five minutes. that formula is only needed in the later questions.” he points at the formula you’ve written on the first page of your notebook.

“why didn’t you tell me before?!” you exclaim. “you must have thought i am an idiot for staring at the wrong formula.” you chewed the inside of your cheek, avoiding eye contact from veritas.

“you didn’t ask.” veritas shrugs. “besides, it is kind of funny seeing your struggle to correlate the wrong formula to the equation.” you slap his forearm, and he dramatically holds his arm, face scrunching in pain. “ow! that hurts!”

“oh come on, don’t be dramatic. besides, you’re way stronger than me.” you point out. “now help me solve the rest of the questions.” you give veritas the sweetest smile you can muster. “please.”

veritas scoffs at the fakeness of your smile but helps you regardless. he won’t admit it out loud, but seeing you smile at him makes his heart flutter — the way you smile at him, how you give him a proud look after solving a math question without his help, anything that you do makes his heart flutter.

as you solve the next questions, finally understanding what each means, you don’t notice the way veritas looks at you, eyes softening as he sees you concentrate on the questions.

the bell rings, snapping veritas out of his daze. he clears his throat and starts packing his bags. But, before he gets to do so, you slam your worksheet on his table. “look! everything’s correct, right?” he looks up and sees your eyes filled with hope. as he checks your worksheet, a warm feeling embraces him, finding out that everything is indeed correct.

“mhm. perfect score.” veritas messily drew a smiley face on top of your worksheet and you smiled happily, squealing. unable to contain your happiness, you hug him tightly. “woah-!”

“thank you, thank you, thank you!” before you know it, you plant a kiss on his cheek. shocked by your own actions, you immediately pull away, embarrassed. “i-i’m so sorry! that-”

“no, i don’t mind.” veritas mumbles, his cheeks turning red. “that was… nice.”

you blinked and burst out laughing. “nice? that's your first response to someone kissing you?”

“what else do you want me to say?” veritas huffs, crossing his arms. “oh, your kiss has saved me from the pain and suffering of math class?” he says sarcastically.

“now you’re exaggerating it.” you sigh. “since when did you ever suffer during math class?” instead of answering you, veritas just winks at you.

“so,” he starts. “when's our first date?”

[demonslayerunhinged]

Unhinged theory

Okay so this theory is complete bullshit and doesn't have any merit but I just wanted to get it out of my system.

I wonder why Shizu didn't eat the kids the moment she killed them. Like we know that when you're turned into a demon you're overcome by a hunger so great that you won't be able to think straight.

Like okay, maybe she wanted to finish off Genya before she started feasting but she could have just eaten them, it's not like Genya posed any actual danger and her movements were too calculated like oneshotting all 4 kids including Koto and breaking the lights right before attacking Genya.

So here's my theory, I think Shizu deliberately killed her kids. Why? Because she was tired of them. Y'know how becoming a demon brings out the twisted version of your soul like Akaza's fighting, Dakis obsession with beauty and Gyutaros hatred of humanity, and Hantengu's entire existence? What if Shizu deep down was tired of being a mom? And she low-key resented her kids? What if she was tired of seeing them suffer?

Genya said she was very small but what if in reality she was just very young? Like in her late teens? It's not so out there after all Tamayo is 19 biologically and she had a husband and kids. Shizu could have been 14 or 15 when she had Sanemi.

So this is a young girl, married this older man, probably out of necessity or against her will, and given Kyogo's violence there's a chance that some of the kids were a product of rape.

She's living in poverty, married to an absolute dick of a husband who beats her all while trying to make ends meet and take care of SEVEN kids!

Even for the Taisho era, seven kids is a lot and other people seem to think so too, in the light novel Genya remembers how their landlord's son used to taunt them as 'the poor people with a lot of kids'.

The thing that really cemented this theory for me is the afterlife scene with Sanemi. Her shame. Not sadness or despair but shame. Shame so strong she doesn't even want to alert her kids to her existence and she covers her face and hides when she sees Sanemi. What if that shame stems from guilty? Guilt over her resentment towards her kids?

I'm not saying that Shizu hated her kids, but what if she was just...tired? Tired of being used as a punching bag? Tired of seeing her babies get hurt and go hungry every night? Tired of being treated like dirt and having people make fun of her family? Tired of being judged for circumstances that were out of her control? Tired of struggling? Tired of her life? Tired of everything?

Regarding Sanemi and Genya, I feel like they both have an idealized image of their mother and that's probably why Sanemi refused to accept the knowledge that Nezuko could resist attacking humans by thinking about her family, because then he would have to face the truth that maybe their mother never really loved them? Or that her love wasn't as strong as he thought?

It's a really hard pill to swallow for a lot of us because we don't want to think about the fact that our moms, even if they love us or at least tolerate us, may not have wanted us or may have thought their lives would've been better if they hadn't had us.

This isn't uncommon in real life either. The subreddit r/regretfulparents has over 120k members, then there's this insightful thread where parents who regret having kids share their feelings, there's also experiences from women here and here.

Something to think about. I'm sorry but I feel like the Shinazugawa kids, all they truly had was each other and they didn't know it. They never really stood a chance.

Yea so...

[konoheya]

naruto men that would unironically call you pookie !

naruto, obito, kiba + honorable mentions for sai & gara !

naruto uzumaki: heard kiba use it when referring to his partner a few times and it was jokingly tossed around when they went out for drinks one friday night. filled with liquor courage and newfound knowledge, he slammed the door to your apartment open like he owned the place, before his squinted eyes focused on you. he announced his presence with a loud “HEY POOKIE!” and attacked you with a million kisses and curious fingers that quickly snuck under your pajama pants. you’re confused, but naruto is being so gentle yet firm as he kisses you that it’s easy to forget that he just came home hammered and with an awkward nickname for you that’s just so him. two minutes later he passed out face down on your bed, all sticky and warm from drinking.

wakes up the next day like nothing happened and greets you with a hungover “morning, pookie..”, before he tries to unsuccessfully manipulate you into cuddling for another hour. doesn’t let the nickname go even after 20 years of marriage and three kids.

obito uchiha: he suffers from stupid simp man disease and it’s terminal. when he was being cocky and bragging about how amazing and kind and brave you are to kakashi, it slipped. “my pookie-“ and he freezes up like a deer in headlights. obito has never called you pookie before, well- not in public at least! it sends him into a stuttering frenzy as he tries to explain himself to a rather confused kakashi (bless his heart, he thought pookie was exclusively used in icha-icha). when obito unsuccessfully explains himself, teasing ensues. the uchiha comes home all sullen with his shoulders slumped and wraps his arms around you from behind, hiding his face in your hair. you can tell how embarrassed he is based on how warm his cheeks are- he must be blushing. obito is the most irresistible when he’s so open with his emotions, courageously confessing that he adores you or shyly asking for a kiss, which is why it’s almost impossible to not tease him when he’s this vulnerable.

“everything okay? you seem down today, loverboy.”

he grumbles in response.

“obito? use some words please?”

“… it’s nothing.”

and when his brain adds the dreaded ‘pookie’ to the end of his sentence, obito knows he has to confess his sins to you before kakashi spills the beans and asks you what embarrassing nicknames (plural!) you use for him.

kiba inuzuka: yet another victim of the stupid simp man disease. of course he uses pookie on a daily basis. what’s for dinner, pookie? you ass looks great today, pookie. gimmie a kiss, pookie! kiba has no clue where he heard the pet name, but he looooves it, so much so that he overuses it. he sometimes goes for unbearable variations of it that he is certain will irritate you; kiba says them with the most annoyingly flirty smirk you’ve ever seen (pookums, pookie-bear, pookie-wookie if he wants you to groan and roll your eyes). overall, his main goal is to fluster you in any way he can. can you blame a man who desperately wants to see you red and bashful, clinging to him and asking him to stop because you’re in public and people are staring? god, you’re too cute when you whine about how mean he is being. but he can’t help it! people need to know you’re his and only his, pookie!

this is where his cuteness agression shows- he just wants to squeeze you in his beefy arms and never let go when you’re like this!

the only way to get him to stop is to return the favor- call him a nickname that’s equally as cheesy and stupid, if you can think of one that is. kiba can get very creative and isn’t afraid to humiliate himself a bit if that means that you’ll blush ten times harder than before.

sai and gaara would suffer the same fate- two socially awkward guys who read/heard somewhere that nicknames are a good way to make friends.

sai has liked you for a while and wanted to tell you, but the books he read all said the same thing- hinting at your crush is the way to go. why tell the person directly, when you can make it unnecessarily complicated? and so one day when sai was supposed to meet up with sakura and you, he decided to greet you with a wave, a confident “hello, pookie” and the most polite smile you’ve ever seen. sakura was giving sai an earful about how it’s inappropriate to use pet names he gave you in private in front of your friends, and you were on the verge of passing out from how genuine sai sounded. if you replayed the moment enough times in your head, you could catch the glimmer of pure affection in his voice that tugged at your heartstrings.

gaara had a similar situation, except it was kankuro who put the nail in the coffin and convinced him that calling you pookie was the way to your heart. poor man decided to test that theory when you came in with a report later that afternoon, bruised, dirty and disheveled from the mission you were sent on. as you handed him the papers, you could hear a gara mutter a small “thank you, um… pookie.”

you almost combusted when he tilted his head in confusion, looking extremely endearing as he observed your flustered reaction. was i successful?, he thought as he watched you stutter out questions regarding the nickname with warmed cheeks.

[georgiapeach30513]

Two Good Reasons, Part 7

Summary: Andy is such a daddy

Pairings: Andy Barber X Reader

Rating: explicit

Warnings:  explicit language, explicit sexual content, breedable reader and a breeding kink man, unprotected sex, creampie, 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 7.9K

Previous

Series Masterlist

*dividers created by @firefly-graphics

You should really wake up. There is a lot to do today; Audrey has her Donuts with Dad event at school, Suede had an allergist appointment, Andy’s day wasn’t too bad and he said he would go with you. But you don’t want to wake up, you want to enjoy this moment. You’d rather lay in this bed, facing Andy’s handsome face, and watching him while he sleeps. It could be creepy to some, but you doubt that Andy would mind.

There’s just something so magical about seeing the man you’ve always loved facing you, and his warm breath blowing over your cheeks. Life wasn’t perfect, but with him in your life you know you have a partner, and now not everything sits on your shoulders. He carries the weight, and he makes life fun again for you and the kids.

It didn’t seem like that long ago that you cried on the floor, while you watched your babies sleep. You were silent as tears stained your face and chest, watching these beautiful babies sleep soundly, while their father grunts in pleasure in the background. You didn’t understand why he would risk losing them. They are perfect, and he knew — knew that infidelity was the point of no return.

He risked a relationship with his offspring, the thing he claimed to desire the most, because he knew you would fight like hell to have custody of your children. They were all you have left of your marriage. And you just stared at them in awe. Audrey held onto Suede like he was her personal stuffed animal. And their lips were puckered out as they slept so serenely, having no knowledge of their babysitter fucking their disgusting father.

You tired of sitting on the floor, and crawled in Audrey’s bed, holding onto both of them like a lifeline. You had to be okay for them. You just didn’t understand. You had two good reasons in your arms for not cheating; he is two and she's four, and Scott was the ultimate idiot.

You made yourself believe that you stayed because they adored their father. You knew that the two of you had been drifting apart. Sex was a chore, until it was completely absent. His harsh words for Suede changed the way you thought of him. How someone could see this perfect tiny little baby that was in the NICU fighting to breathe was a miracle. You made yourself suffer through a subpar relationship because you felt it’s what they wanted.

It would have been easier on you if he told you he didn’t love you anymore. The low blow was who the woman was. He had to pick out the young girl that was every man’s fantasy, so you thought. She was young, stupid, perfect hair, perfect teeth, perky full tits, had a stomach that hadn’t carried and birthed babies, she was just the epitome of sex goddess. Your mom told you that you were stupid for hiring a babysitter that looked like her, but she was readily availed. Too readily.

And you thought she was fun for the kids for the few hours she watched them. She wasn’t supposed to be watching your husband. He wasn’t supposed to be coming home during a lunch hour to fuck her while your babies slept. Yours. They have always been yours. And you feel like a fool for staying in a loveless marriage, because their happiness now is infectious.

And now today, and everyday for the rest of your life you can thank Taylor because you have the better man in front of you. The man of your dreams. The man that is so fuzzy and warm, and then hard and protective for his family. That’s what the four of you are; family. His family.

It has made you painfully aware how you all are a family everyday. Every day Andy wants to do something as a family. He wants breakfast together, dinner together, play time with no electronics (thanks Ransom), he even helps Suede sound out his words more, and has mentioned a few times on helping him potty train. He immediately was the best bonus dad for your kids. Better than their own father.

As much as you would like to prolong this moment, you know you need to get breakfast started. Andy will join you later to set the table. He would even get Suede ready while you got Audrey ready. Keep them occupied while you make lunches. He was a help. They weren’t a burden to him. You know he’s always wanted a family, but you didn’t realize how much he would flourish as a father.

You try and let him get a few minutes extra of sleep, while you ease out of the bed. Giving a final look to the most beautiful man inside And out as you pick up some shorts out of the floor. Getting into the kitchen, you check the calendar for the menu today, and pull out the ingredients for pancakes. Even this part of life made you happy, Andy enjoyed helping you and the kids create the menu for the month. Blissful is a good word. Now if Scott could just buzz off, and let the four of you live in peace.

Lighthearted, you start laying bacon onto trays for the air fryer. Mixing up the batter for the pancakes as you dance around to happy music in your head. Not all mornings are this joyful, but you feel different. Usually he was the one that woke up before you did, and he would start this process. You hear the alarm go off in the bedroom, and start to make a yogurt dip for fruit.

“Morning, handsome,” you look over your shoulders as Andy pulls down his shirt, and makes his way behind you. He wraps both arms around your front, laying his hands flat on your belly as he starts roaming around. His hands become more needy, and he adds a bit more pressure, pulling you into him. “I gotta finish the last pancakes, and pop them in the warmer. Gimme me a moment.”

“I need my morning kiss,” you bump your ass out, pushing him back, just a tiny bit to get the pancakes off the griddle, and turn off the stove. Andy is already peppering kisses up your neck before he lifts a hand to turn your head to the side. “I need a real good morning kiss because the babies are still asleep, and the air fryer hasn’t shut off.”

“Kiss until one or the other happens?” He nods his head as he inches closer to your mouth. You wish he’d let you turn around to kiss him properly, but he’d taken to kisses like this. His hands continue to caress over your belly. Dipping under the hemline of your top, so he can have his hands on your skin. One hand roams a bit too high, and he pinches your nipples.

“The babies,” you manage to get out, and his hand already sinks back lower. You kiss him like there’s no care in the world. The best way to start a day. You are ready to get out of this house, and find a forever home with him. Create memories with everyone. Start drawing lines on a door frame to show how much they’ve grown. A big fenced in backyard because you have thought more about a dog for the kids, and a bonus if it can be a service dog for Suede’s allergies.

Andy bites on your lip, pausing his ministrations as a giggle makes him pull off you, “You look like you are eating each other,” Audrey giggles again, but Suede jokingly scowls at Andy.

“My mama,” he stomps his foot, and Andy copies his motion. “No oos!”

“You want to race to the table for her?” Both Audrey and Suede’s faces light up with a smile, and they bend low, bouncing in place as they look up at Andy. “Ready,” he drops his arms from around your body. “Set,” Andy walks over to where the kids are, getting in a running stance with them, “Go!”

Running in the house isn’t often. But these short bursts of racing to the table are fine. Scott would hate them. You open up the air fryer, and start placing bacon on a plate. Setting out the plates onto the counter. Pulling out some cups. “Auds, you want juice or milk, baby?”

“JUICE, mommy!”

“Suedey?”

“UICE!”

Starting a pot of coffee, you give Andy a chaste kiss as he grabs the plates and utensils, walking back into the dining room, “Suede, all the way in your seat,” Suede listens immediately, and Andy lays out the plates, “Do not stand up in the chair while I go get the drinks, okay?”

“Chess.”

“I mean it, Audi, you watch him, angel, okay?” She holds up a thumb as Andy jogs back into you. Finishing up pouring the drinks, you slap his ass as he trots back, “Ma’am!”

“Don’t have such a cute tush,” you shrug. He seriously has the best scrumptious ass that you will bite one of these days. Andy rolls his eyes, and you grab up the tray of food. Walking in to see your family. “Coffee should just about be done.”

“Is it just me today again?” You give him a nod. Coffee has been giving you the worst heartburn lately, so you’ll stick with just water for today. Now is one of your favorite times of day. Time to talk with your littles about their day. Time to watch Andy try and help Suede calmly sound his words out a bit more. It’s amazing what positive reinforcement from more than you helps him learn.

His speech is already improving, but also his behavior. He is still two and has his moments of big emotions for a little boy. But it’s almost like he has a male that now pays attention to him, and talks to him like he’s a human instead of at him because he isn’t perfect. Suede isn’t a mistake, and Audrey isn’t perfect. You didn’t want her to have these impossible goals, because no one is ever going to perfect. She would fail. There would be things she wouldn’t naturally be good at, and you wanted her to have those moments.

“Audi, are you excited about your dad coming to pick you up today?” You start the morning conversation. She hadn’t seen him in over a week. Even his nightly calls are dwindling down. Either he’s too busy with Taylor, or his insecurities towards Andy are taking over his need to be a decent father.

She finishes the gulp of her juice before she sits it down on the table, nodding her head. She missed him. Suede didn’t care or way or the other. If it didn’t hurt your children, you’d rather he just stay absent, “And and and and and…”

“Breathe,” you whisper. She has picked up a bit of stuttering with her excitement recently. You hope she didn’t have these moments with her dad. You shudder to think what he’ll say about her not being perfect.

She takes a slow breath, wiping her maple hands down her front, “Daddy says he’s going to take me to that new donut shop.”

“Me, too! Na Na, me go!”

“Buddy, we have to ask if they have donuts without eggs first. This is just,” Andy looks over towards you, wondering how he should phrase the next sentence. No matter how it comes out, it’ll be how it sounds.

“Suedey, today is just for sissy and daddy,” he furrows his brows, and folds his arms over his chest. “I know. But maybe you and Andy can do something special Friday evening, and Audrey and I can stay home.”

“Chess!”

“Can can can can,” she takes a deep breath without being coached this time, “Can you and I make Pinkalicious cupcakes? My teacher read the book, and I need pink cupcakes.”

“I think that’s a wonderful idea. But, Suede?” Suede immediately sits back on his bum as he looks at Andy, and he thanks him quickly, “I need you to be extra brave today. You got to pick out tonight’s dinner, remember?”

“Chess,” he says slowly. “Me,” he looks at you, and then only at Andy, “B-b-br…bave,” close enough. He smiles so big as he looks at Andy, and he reaches across the table, holding out a fist, and Suede bumps his hand. Andy moves it to Audrey who returns the favor.

“Alright, you two take your plates to the dishwasher, and head to the bathroom for teeth and hands and faces,” today was going to be tough. But today wasn’t going to be bad.

Andy checks his watch again while Audrey sits and stares out Sloane’s window directly to the parking lot. She stands up on her little tiptoes, trying to see cars closer to the building before sighing, and walking over to Sloane’s desk, and crawling back underneath. Andy’s assistant glares at him.

Waiting on the little girl to put her headphones back on, “Fix this,” she whisper screams. “Her looks so pitiful, and I can’t do anything to help it. So you have to fix it!”

“And what am I supposed to do? Her dad was supposed to be here ten minutes ago to pick her up. It’s a Dad’s and Donuts day at school. And no, the dads are not a requirement, but dads, moms, father figures, whatever are invited.”

“And you’re the step,” Andy clears his throat, his eyes scanning the parking lot again, “Bonus dad. Take her to get her donuts, and you take her,” Andy starts to make a comment before he pulls his phone out of his pocket, and walks into his office. Closing the door softly as he paces around.

“Doe!”

“Don’t tell me what I think you’re about to say,” there has been a sneaking suspicion in your mind all day. Scott hadn’t called to confirm the event at school, which only meant one thing, he wasn’t going.

“He’s not here,” you groan in frustration. Keeping your eyes on Suede who scribbles on a piece of paper with his tongue sticking out. It would be any moment that you were going to be called back for Suede’s test, and Scott wasn’t there to get his daughter.

“Days like this I want to hit him. I know that work gets in the way, but he can schedule around this, right? You do. God, I just wish you were her dad,” Suede looks up at you smiling, pointing at his paper, and things grow silent on the other end. Andy wouldn’t leave her hanging like this. You can imagine her looking out the window, and then going back under Sloane’s desk to hide.

She thinks that nobody notices when he disappoints her, but you do. More and more Scott’s insecurities about Andy were coming out, and she is the one that suffers for it, “Honey, tell me if I’m overstepping my bounds, but I can take her,” you inhale swiftly, staring at Suede, and how he tries conversing with a little boy in the waiting area. His confidence growing by a positive male influence.

“Okay,” responding quickly because Audrey deserves doughnuts that could potentially have eggs. “Yeah, okay. Umm, I’m going to send you the address,” your phone pings, and you check to see if it’s Scott, and it isn’t. “Andy, her favorite color currently is…”

“Pink, I know. Ransom, why are you here?” Andy looks at his colleague confused. Of course Ransom is there. He had to let you know that Audrey is hiding. Those iPads are going to be a blessing and a curse.

“Audrey is hiding under Sloane’s desk, and she sent me a message asking if I could bring her some doughnuts. I thought that — he didn’t show up,” Ransom growls, and reaches into his pocket for his keys, “Alright, let's get the kid the most obnoxious cupcakes…”

“Doughnuts,” you and Andy say at the same time, even if Ransom couldn’t hear you. “And I’m driving. You don’t have a car seat.”

“Yeah, whatever, let’s go,” Ransom leans under Sloane’s desk, smiling at the tiny little Audrey, “Come on, let’s go nuts for doughnuts,” nerd. Ransom is a liar, and he’s a nerd. He was the best liar and only because he ended up being the most tender man besides Andy. He is all bark, and only bites for mean men.

Audrey holds onto her box of donuts, and Andy opens her door, helping her get out, “Do you think the gold is too much?” She asks, looking down at her gaudy pastries, and Ransom scoffs. The gold had been his idea, “So people will love them, Uncle Ann?”

“They’re going to love them, sweetheart,” Andy butts in. He lets Audrey walk in front, leading the way into the classroom. “We’re just two minutes late, but I think the pink and gold were the right fit,” Audrey holds her head up higher. “You’re coming, too?”

“I’m not sitting out in the car. I want donuts,” Audrey looks like she’s commanding these two men. She guides them through the doors, stopping to let Andy sign her in before continuing her trek down the hallway. Nodding her head as she passes the classroom doors.

“That’s Suede’s room. He hasn’t been back since he was stung. Mommy wants to make sure there’s no other allergies before he comes back. Oh! Miss Tatum! My Uncle Ann and — Andy brought me. My daddy is busy, but this is okay, right?”

“Of course. Go sit your donuts on the table, I’m sure your uncles can help you,” Andy starts to protest. “We’ve got a quick circle time, and we’re going to go directly into the donuts. You’re welcome to sit down with her, or you can join the adults behind the table.”

“Haha, she thinks we’re a couple,” Ransom giggles, and he gets a sharp look from Miss Tatum. “You think she’s single? She is a feisty one.”

“I think she thinks that she’s not your type,” Ransom look from Miss Tatum to Andy, his lip curling a moment.

“You’re right, I don’t like kids,” Andy’s face falls flat as he stands in the back of the classroom. That isn’t at all what Andy was insinuating, “I don’t. This,” Ransom motions to the classroom of fifteen children, “this is terrifying. Perfect birth control. But she sure is cute,” Andy elbows his partner in the ribs as Miss Tatum sits on the floor with a guitar. “What does one do at donuts for dads?”

“I’ve never done this,” he keeps his eyes on Audrey who sporadically watches him as she sings. The biggest grin on her face for their morning song. A little dimple showing on her cheek that only appears when she’s at her happiest. “I think I’ve got the cutest kid here.”

“Well, yeah, Audi is the best. Why is she so tiny though? I swear she’s the shortest here,” she is. One of the younger students, but also one of the daintiest.

“She’s perfect,” Andy whispers, smiling back at the little girl. “I couldn’t imagine not showing up for her. Look how happy she is. It’s all she wants is someone to show up for her. And this way she gets put first. Nothing about today is about Suede, just her,” the song finishes, and Audrey gives both men a huge grin, and waves her hands. She bounces around in her spot, but waits for Miss Tatum to dismiss them for the donuts.

“Alright, children, go to your grownup, and let's get our breakfast started. Don’t fill up on just donuts, there’s fruit as well,” Audrey bounces up, sprinting over to Andy and Ransom. She crashes into Andy’s legs giving him a huge hug.

“Come on, we have to hurry so we can sit at the best table. It’s the one closest to the kitchen area, and there’s a window, and you can pretend to have a store, and we have a money thingy that really beeps. And! Oh, look, come here,” grabbing both their hands she pulls them to another section of the classroom.

Forgetting she had a special table, she just wants to show off her space, “This is where I paint. And you see that picture way up there? That’s my hand and we made it into a pumpkin! And and and and and and…”

“Audi, breathe.”

“Yes,” she inhales slowly, exhaling, “That’s our reading area. And this book,” she pulls up a book from the shelf, showing both men, “This is my favorite right now. It’s Pinkalicious, and it has a girl who turns pink in it,” she lets out a roaring giggle before pulling the book out of Andy’s hands, and showing them something else.

“See the bags on the windows? We’re trying to sprout beans! And oh,” she drags them to another area of the classroom, “This is the block center. Jacob makes really big buildings and he knocks them down. And one time a block fell on my head and I cried.”

“Which one is Jacob?” Ransom’s eyes narrow as he looks at every little boy in the classroom. Putting Jacob on his list.

“Ransom!” Andy says under his breath.

“Mommy had to sign a paper that said I got in an accident. I just don’t go there if Jacob is going to be there,” Audrey shrugs, and sighs.

“Does he still bother you?”

“Not really. He hits the cymbals too loud, so Miss Tatum doesn’t let him have those anymore. Come on, we should really get some donuts. I want two of my pink and gold ones,” she drags them along even if Ransom whispers and asks Andy about who Jacob is. “Here are your plates. Oh, daddy, look there’s plenty of my donuts left.”

Audrey is able to squish in between a little girl, reaching for the donuts she brought, while Andy stares at her curiously. She didn’t hesitate, didn’t skip a beat. That name rolled off her tongue effortlessly, and while Andy is swimming in feels, it worries him. Scott is a non-issue as far as he’s concerned, but what will Audrey think when she realizes what she’s said? Will you be upset? Was it an honest mistake?

He’s spent every night with you and the kids, minus Scott’s weekends. He wakes up every morning with them. Drops them off to school with you. He reads all three of you bedtime stories every night. It’s not that he doesn’t think he deserves the title, it’s a worry on how everyone else will feel. He doesn’t care about his feelings when something like this can change so much.

“I bet that kid is Jacob,” Ransom motions to a little mischievous boy that gets reprimanded by his dad. “He looks like a trouble maker, that's definitely the brat that hurt Audi.”

“Shh, I’m going through an internal crisis right now,” Ransom furrows his brow as they make it down the line of food. Watching as Audrey fills her plate up with fruit. “Audi, let me carry this to the table, and you grab us some juice boxes.”

“Juice boxes? I was promised beverages,” juice boxes was not on Ransom’s list of things he was willing to drink. He’d been thinking a mimosa at least.

“We’re at a pre-k center.”

“Okay, daddy. Uncle Ann, what is your favorite flavor,” Ransom’s mouth drops open, and Audrey looks at him weird, “Orange juice, okay,” before she skips off, and the two men pick up their plates to walk to the tiny little chairs.

“Is that the first time she’s called you that?”

“Yup.”

“Is that your crisis?”

“Yup.”

“Well,” Ransom gives Miss Tatum a nod as he sits down in the chair, she really was cute, “These are the smallest things I have ever in my life seen,” he states, slotting a too small chair away from the table. He sits down, and glares at Andy. His knees feel like they’re up to his chin, “They are cute, but I look like an idiot,” he follows Andy’s eyes as he watches the man staring at the little girl digging around the cart for the right juice. “It was bound to happen.”

“Eventually. But is this too soon? How do I bring this up? Is she okay? Is she pretending that I’m her dad for today so she’s not embarrassed? Is she confused? I have so many questions running through my head like I’m in court, and all I want to do is stare at that little girl, and wish she was mine. She should be mine.”

“Can I be honest with you?” Andy’s head bobs up and down quickly. He is ready to get home to you, and talk through this with someone who was involved. He trusts Ransom, but this is a family matter. “She is yours,” Andy looks at him confused, “You’ve stepped up for her, her brother, but most importantly stepped up for her mom. You’ve become part of the integral familial unit, and the kids are both thriving. My guess is eventually Scott will quit trying to tear her down, and will eventually back out of the kids' lives a bit more permanently. He already has with Suede. He’s hoping Audi is going to be a good name for him. It’s the only reason he’s kept a somewhat decent relationship with her. By the way, the talk of the assistants is that he doesn't have a photo of his kids on his desk. It’s just him and Taylor, along with his phone wallpaper. Let’s see yours.”

Andy lays his phone on the table, and Ransom has a hearty laugh. “See, you, Doe, and both kids. What’s the other one?”

“Doe sleeping,” he smiles, waving at Audrey. She’d been talking to Miss Tatum about something. Her dimple sinks in as she points over to the table. She really is the cutest here, especially when she’s happy.

“And your fall family photos where you and Suede have actually matching shirts is on your desk. You’ve become their dad. Scott’s just their father. Hey princess, what’s this?”

“Miss Tatum said there’s no orange juice left, but she can go ask if you want her to. But I said you could drink apple cider with us. Uncle Ann! What is that donut?”

Her chubby little finger points at an overly decadent donut piled high with something, and he takes a big bite. Moaning at the deliciousness, “This is a cookie butter donut.”

“I think Jacob brought those,” Audrey giggles, looking up at Andy.

“This isn’t that great. I’ve definitely had better donuts,” he says annoyed. He gives a little glare over to the boy who he has deemed Jacob. He can’t believe he hates a four year old, but said four year old hurt Audrey.

“He he he he he,” she calmly takes a long breath when Andy’s hand lays on her back, “He always brings fancy stuff like that. Mommy says that his mom wants brownie points, but that is a donut. I don’t know what she’s talking about. Umm,” Audrey looks up at Andy. Her pink frosting clad hand lays on his pants, getting a bit of the confection on him, and he doesn’t care. She looks content.

“Thank you for bringing me. I’m sad that Suede can’t have these. But but but me and Mommy will make him some Halloween donuts, also the Pinkalicious cupcakes when you take him somewhere.”

“You’re welcome,” she doesn’t say the title of daddy again, and she also doesn’t remove her hand. Andy’s thoughts are swimming. Swirling thoughts of what this all means, but he can’t deny that Audrey is happy. She seems at ease, and that is all that matters to him. Even if this feels right, and all because you trust him. And he’ll continue to show up again and again, no matter what Scott thinks.

You inhale the hot water deeply. Letting the steam open up your sinuses, while you just stand in the heat. You’d finished cleansing your body, but you need these moments of just breathing. It feels like a never ending battle with Suede’s allergies somehow getting worse. You followed the rules. You didn’t introduce common food allergies to him. You introduced a new item a little at a time, and still it got worse.

He should be allowed to be a normal child, and not have to watch every little thing that he ate. It’s why you made sure to prepare things for him. Always carried snacks that were safe for him. It’s like Scott cursed him in some way. He pushed his distaste for his son onto him, and it made allergies appear or something. He was just two and had so many complications.

Too many complications. It isn’t fair.

You rest your head in your hands, massaging your temples. It had been such a long day. He cried, asking you over and over again why. The nurses said it would only sting a little bit, and immediately he went on edge. Crying uncontrollably because sting now meant bees. It was rough, so you loved hearing that Audrey had the best day possible, despite Scott not showing up again. Hadn’t called. Didn’t even bother giving an excuse. Out of sight out of mind. He’d never bring this up again.

Andy’s hands slide around your waist, and he pulls you into his hard chest. Laying his chin on your head, he keeps you tucked into him, and you drop your own hands, and return his embrace. Burrowing yourself into him, and letting Andy shoulder the heavy weight laying on you. “Honey, you don’t have to come in here to hide. I will listen. I take it today wasn’t a good day?”

“He’s not allergic to bees, that’s a good thing. The seventeen times just caused the breathing issues and swelling. I should be thankful,” that is such a minor thing. You were told to still be cautious, like you wanted him to ever get stung again?

Andy starts to rock you back and forth. You want to make sure your home with him has a huge bathroom like this house. A giant shower for you to comfort Andy, or in this case, him comfort you. Completely naked and vulnerable to each other, and nothing sexual. It’s just purely you and him. “He did add in all shellfish and soy though.”

“Audrey’s going to be very upset then,” leaning back, you stare up at him confused, “Uncle Ann said he wanted to make us some clam chowder,” it’s so silly and goofy, and it shouldn’t matter, but tears well up in your eyes because you hate that it seems like Audrey always gets the leftovers because her brother has allergies.

“She wanted clam chowder?”

“Ehh, she said it sounded gross. We’ll just have a funeral for the clam chowder that never was. She hasn’t tried it, so she doesn’t know what she’s missing. And I’m not so sure about Ransom’s cooking. However, I’m more concerned about what this beautiful woman is doing crying in the shower without me. You’re not alone in this.”

“I know. I just needed a moment to decompress. You didn’t have to see his pitiful face. It got started all wrong. He’s terrified of bees now, and just a mention of them — it was awful.”

Andy’s fingers massage your head as he sways you back and forth. Normally he complains about the water temperature, and even though his skin is turning bright red, he doesn’t say a thing. “Audrey called me daddy today,” gasping, you look into his eyes, and he’s so far away. Remembering the very moment she said it.

“It wasn’t purely an accident. She said it twice. She got pink frosting on my pants. We’ll take it to the dry cleaners, but it was so sweet. She just had her hand resting on my leg, and just would stare up at me with this cheesy grin. Doe, she was so happy today. She got to eat a pink and gold donut, and was proud that we were there. And with me she did show — I don’t even know. It’s silly, but it’s like she was claiming me as her dad to her friends. And who the fuck is Jacob?”

You snort, giving him a kiss to his chin. “Just some kid that has some behavioral issues. I think Audrey tries to befriend him though. So how do you feel?”

“How do you feel?”

“I want my kids to be happy and content. That’s it, and they are. Names are not important. Whether you’re Andy, Na Na, or daddy. So how do you feel?”

He spins the two of you, putting himself in the stream of water while he grabs the shampoo. You pull it out of his hands, and squirt the liquid into your hand before standing on your tippy toes, and washing his hair yourself. Getting a good lather, letting the suds stream down his body. He takes long deep breaths in and out before leaning forward for a sweet kiss.

“I liked it a lot. Is it going too far to say I feel like her dad?” You shake your head no. This is Andy in his element. He was seriously meant to be a father. “I didn’t want to correct her at first because I thought it was a mistake, but then she said it again, and I don’t want this to confuse her. I don’t want this to be a fight for Scott. I don’t want her or Suede to feel they have to call me that. But I liked it.”

“Maybe we should talk to her,” it seemed like a logical start to understanding. It might have just slipped out, she might be confused on what she should call Andy. But it should be discussed with her. Let her know that neither of you cared. “Just with her, we can wait for the next weekend we have them, Suede still takes two naps, and we just have a conversation with her. I’ve been feeling so guilty lately. I feel my baby is growing up too fast, and it’s not because she’s growing up but because she’s having to be an adult with her brother. She’s had so much trauma with the divorce, and his allergies, and she’s not even five. I want to make it a point to have special moments with her.”

“I think that’s the best idea. Not to change the subject, but are you going to wash my body, too? Want to spend some extra time on my dick?” Andy wiggles his brows around, and you snort rolling your eyes. He’s such a teenager sometimes. That’s one way to change the subject.

“Not in the shower.”

“Why not?” He asks, getting all squeaky. You start backing away from him. “Wait, wait. It’s been a hard day, we should take it out on each other’s bodies.”

“We are too old for the shower,” you can just see how this plays out, with someone slipping and falling. Or worse, both of you falling.

“No, we’re not. This is a perfect place to have sex because all our sins get washed down the drain.”

“Those sins cost a lot of money in a water bill, and I am afraid it’s too slippery in here. In theory that sounds extremely sexy. But why don’t you wash your balls, and I’ll lock the door, and then we can make sweet love in bed?”

“You’re mean. You could wash my balls with your mouth,” you give him a quick wink before fully leaving the shower, and Andy hurriedly washes himself. He gives himself a glance into the mirror while he towels off, and then throws it into the hamper. Remaining naked as he walks into the bedroom, and hisses between his teeth.

That’s what the wink was for. Looking all delicious and beautiful, you are on the bed, ass up in the air, while your face is on the mattress. “I take back what I said about you being mean,” watching him grow and harden while he walks closer to you is such an oddly satisfying thing. “Is this all for me?”

“It always was,” he runs his cock through your glistening folds. Using your juices as his personal lube, while he waits on himself to get to full mast. His fingers knead and caress your body, and you wiggle your ass around. Bouncing it, and circling it around before Andy slaps a cheek, causing you to yip. “Are you wanting to punish me, daddy?”

“Don’t start that shit again.”

“If I recall, you kinda got off on me saying that on one of your few visits from college. Everyone was so jealous that I was dating a college man,” Andy’s ego swells, right along with his cock, so you keep talking. “They’d see us out at dinner, and how needy we were for each other. They didn’t hear our whispers of how much we loved each other. How you were already so horny to see me pregnant, but knew it wasn’t the time.”

“Doe,” Andy warns, plunging two fingers into your cunt. His fingers immediately curl as he hits that spongy spot inside of you, and he drives himself in and out. The honey in your pussy create the most lewd sounds, echoing into the bedroom.

“Remember that one time?” his eyes flutter closed as he reminisces, “I told you that you had one time my senior year to knock me up. I was so scared, but at the same time, I wanted it. It was the end of the year, and it would mean that I didn’t have to go to my mom’s college. I could move in with you, and we could begin our life. But…I think this is how it was meant to be, and I love you more today than I could have ever imagined.”

He removes his fingers so quickly, popping his hips forward, and sheaths himself all the way to the hilt. Stabbing you into the depths of your soul, while he swells inside your warmth. His cock aching and throbbing, but he holds still. “I’ll protect you, too, daddy,” your voice whines out the last word, and you get another slap to your ass, “Andy.”

“You play too much.”

“You don’t like it?” Andy grips tightly to your hips, and begins pistoning inside of you. Harsh, sharp movements that leave you clinging to the bedspread. You whimper out his name, trying to push yourself back into him. You want him deeper. You want him all the way into your stomach. You never tire of him, never can get enough, so you wanted him to be welded to your insides.

“I’ll like it more when you talk to our kids about daddy, and it’s me you’re referring to. Doe, I don’t get off on that name. I get off on being a father, and having a family with you. I’m not an overly kinky man,” he pushes into your warmth so hard and deep, your body pushes forward on the bed. “I wouldn’t mind fucking your ass, though.”

“But you’re spanking me,” he does it again, and you sob out his name.

“Because you like it. You enjoy the slaps to your ass, so I will do that for you,” he spanks you again, and then spreads apart your cheeks. Staring so intently on where the two of you connect. Your arousal soaks his cock, and you suck him right back into you. Even your body couldn’t get enough of him.

“Your family loves you, but didn’t give you the attention you deserved. They didn’t care that you were out with me, when you shouldn’t have been. You even said you thought they hoped you got pregnant. And now here they are, traveling around the world, and don’t have a relationship with their grandchildren,” he barrels himself into you, but leans over your body.

Hips snapping him into you at the most toe curling angle, “It’s why we have each other. You and I were meant to be each other’s family.”

“I don’t want therapy during sex,” you mewl, glancing back at Andy. His steel blue eyes capture your own, and he goes deeper.

“You don’t want to talk about it any other time. You don’t have to be the strongest person anymore,” someone had to be strong. And you didn’t care if it was you.

“And neither do you,” Andy thrusts so deeply that you see stars. His grunts louder than normal as his seed spurts into you, and you hope and pray that this is the one that takes.

“You didn’t come,” he pants. He doesn’t leave from inside of you, but tucks his hand under your body as he stimulates your clit.

“But you did. I don’t think you understand the pleasure I get from feeling you,” Andy gives your shoulder a bit of a nibble as he works your bundle of nerves. “How good it feels to know that you still find me sexy, and want to fuck me. And that my body can give you so much pleasure,” his movements become erratic, more rapid and harsh as he tries to get you to the finish line.

“We’ve got the rest of our lives, and sometimes, it just might not happen,” he bites on you again, but this time a bit harder, mixing the pain with the pleasure, “But knowing that I’m the cunt your sinking into,” Andy’s hips start a wave of motions. He’s softening in your cunt, but he pushes you forward, giving you the illusion that sex is still happening, and your body tightens. Winding the coil in your belly up to the point of explosion.

“You will come, or I can’t sleep,” clenching your eyes closed, your head drifts to the bed, and you listen to his voice. Only his voice. Envisioning your new home, full of new memories with Andy. A baby on each of your hips as he plays in the yard with Audrey and Suede with a dog chasing the three of them.

The potential of Suede growing out of his allergies is there, you just had to stay consistent. You would. You and Andy were going to have the picture perfect life. There would be arguments, there would be hard times, but you would be together. You would give everyone the life that they deserved. The life you wanted, and craved.

“Andy!” you can hardly breathe with how much your body is clenched. His love and your pleasure race through your body, bones, and veins, until you can’t even see.

“You’re right there. You’re fluttering around me,” you wonder who the kids would look like. Would they have your lips? Or Andy’s eyes? Would they be tall or short? Would they have health problems? Would they be a girl, a boy? Who would they strive to be? You are going to enjoy whatever they bring to your life.

“Doe, I love you,” he sounds like himself now, but also that young man that you became obsessed with. You and Andy had already created a family all those years ago and didn’t realize it. You were each other’s family, and that’s why nothing else ever worked. It’s why you saw flashes of Andy holding onto your babies as they were born. He was always meant to be in the equation.

Children aren't an obligation to Andy, they are what he wants. It’s why everything is so easy for him. Because this is what he needs. And he craves it with you. Two people that fell in love too young, and somehow made their way back to one another, and nothing had changed. And you can’t wait to see Andy in every new part of his life.

“Andy, I’m coming. My god, I’m coming!” Nothing has ever felt more magical than in this moment. The way that he’s still connected to you as your pussy tightens around him. His grunting breaths fanning over your back, while he coaches you through your high. Life isn’t perfect, but starting today, you’re enjoying every moment for what it is.

You will get a divorce. You will get joint custody of the kids, and it will eventually become full custody. Suede will grow out of his allergies. Audrey will be able to be a child without mothering her little brother. And you will give Andy a biological child.

“Doe, will you marry me?” Andy asks as he kisses down your neck. So much for taking things slow. You didn’t care. You have never stopped loving this man, and you never would. To some this might not seem like the most romantic of proposals, but to you, it is.

The two of you are completely nude and vulnerable to one another. Legs and arms entwined together. You two connect in the most basic animalistic way. Skin on skin, heart to heart, soul to soul. It’s raw and feral, but it’s the most beautiful feeling and something like you’ve ever felt in a lifetime.

“Of course I’ll marry you.”

“Okay,” he exhales quickly. Smiling against your back. “Okay. When — you know when I get out of you, I’ll get the ring.”

“You have a ring?!” You nearly shout as you try to push him off you. He falls onto the bed on his back laughing. Holding onto his heaving chest, and you sit up in the bed looking at the district attorney like he’s a teenage boy, “Andrew Stephen Barber! You have a ring, and you wait until you and your cum are inside of me to ask?”

“I thought it was kinda sweet. It was in the moment, and we were fused together. It’s totally sweet,” collapsing on top of him, you giggling. It was sweet in a grotesque way. It made sense, even if you’re laughing so hard at the stark differences in proposals. Scott’s was big and extravagant, while Andy’s was just Andy. Literally nothing was between you.

“I feel you’re hornier in your older age.”

“I’m not the only one. Who was riding my cock in the middle of the night last night?”

“I was stressed about the appointment, and your hard on was sticking into my back. Your body was inviting me to it,” he pulls you closer into him, his hand rubbing up and down your back. He really was turning you on by you being able to feel him. You couldn’t help it, so you had to take care of him.

“I’m not complaining. Waking up to you using me to pleasure yourself was sexy as fuck. I’m just proving my point that you’re just as horny as I am, so don’t forget it,” you wouldn’t forget. It was his fault. How could you not be horny when you wake up to someone that looked like Andy? “We should get cleaned back up, and unlock the door, just in case the kids have bad dreams.”

They rarely toddled downstairs to join you and Andy, but the fact that he even thinks about them might showing up warms your heart. He didn’t care to have them in the room with you. “When are you giving me the ring?”

“I don’t know. Maybe we’ll go on a date, and I’ll ask you again. If you say yes twice, then I’ll give you the ring,” as long as the two of you were together, it didn’t matter. You are engaged to Andy. Now to get divorced, and then your life with Andy and your babies can have a fresh start. Next stop is a house. Maybe a dog. Maybe a pregnancy. But it will always be Andy.

Next

Masterlist

Taglist: @tis-thedamn-season @marveloustaylortot @pono-pura-vida @peaches1958 @seitmai

@smile1318 @andydrysdalerogers @cjand10 @midnightramyeoncravings @kmc1989

@pandaxnienke @kmm-fluv @rogersbarber @theinheriteddutchess @buckybarnesisdaddy @hisredheadedgoddess28

[justadeadreaper]

okay so I'm curious- puptrapping you say? That you'd need another post to go into? I'd like to encourage this please

Puptrapping?

You want to hear about puptrapping, you say?

Anon, your wish is my command.

Just so you know, this is like you encouraging a crack addict by finding them a new dealer. I am not joking because this is my obsession at this point, but I do encourage you to send in more asks about Omega!Makarov or ideas you want me to write about because I will. I never originally thought of puptrapping; instead, it was my dear friend @frogchiro who said that she thought he would based on a comment I made about him tying you down to make sure you cum in him. Also, do thank @frogchiro because she helped me form these ideas in our late-night rants, and she is my biggest encourager.

Now that I have written this, I am tempted to write about Omega!Makarov with pups or a fic based on this idea if anyone wants it.

Obvious warnings for puptrapping (omegaverse version of babytrapping) and all the shit that goes with it, Omega!Makarov spiking your drink with an omegaverse version of Viagra (that sounds so fucking weird), but also a big misunderstanding between Omega!Makarov and reader.

This whole idea is based on it being a misunderstanding. Omega!Makarov is a feared man; no one even knows he is an omega; you were only allowed that grace of knowledge due to being his alpha -specifically chosen for being the most desired for your size and strength-. Knowing how secretive he was about his second gender, you presumed that he would never want pups as it would reveal his identity to the world, and he could not have that, could he? Hell, you did not even think he loved you; he only used you to satisfy his natural instincts that come with being an omega so that he would not be on a constant edge from having his subconscious desires not be fulfilled. You enforced the rule around using some form of protection as you did not want to force or pressure him into having pups that he would never want in a million years.

But oh, you poor, dumb alpha. How wrong could you be?

Omega!Makarov is infatuated with you. As soon as he saw you, he knew that you had to be his; no one else would be able to satisfy him after he saw you. Yes, he may be a cruel, heartless man but he loves you in his own special way and let me tell you he loves you with all his heart! He genuinely does! Now, being that he loves you so much, it is only natural that he wants your pups; it is only made worse by him being an omega and having the natural instincts to breed and have pups that poor omegas like him have. He knew he wanted pups from a young age, even if he knew that he did not love like a normal person does. Another part of him wanting to have pups is his own relationship with his father. A narcissistic, bullheaded alpha that abused Makarov and his poor brother for being omegas, Makarov had to watch as his poor mother was abused for not giving that asshole the alpha sons he desperately wanted. His father was never nice to him; he was a horrid father who chickened out at the last minute instead of suffering the consequences of his actions. Makarov does not want to be like that; he instead wants to be the best father he can be and have as many pups as he can to shove it to the old man who damaged him so much, to embrace the one thing his father abused him for and always forced him to hide.

So, for you to say that you need to use birth control? That is the biggest insult to him! Do you not love him? Do you not think he is a good enough omega to have your pups? Are you just using him to get yourself off? Are you planning on just dropping him off one day? Why do you not feel like him? He wants your pups so badly, why do you not want to give them to him?

He damn near hissed at you for suggesting such a thing, but he decided to hold his tongue as he knows he will get his way, he always has.

Now it just. depends on what type of birth control you force him to use for what he does to still be able to have your pups.

Condoms? Expect every single one to have multiple puncture holes from the set of pins that used to belong to his mother. Small enough for you not to notice but just big enough to allow enough cum to come through to give him a nice litter of pups. But that is only if you are stupid enough to allow him to be the only one to supply the condoms or allow him to be around the box by himself for longer than two minutes. If you buy them and never let him near them, you can be sure that those things will rip because, for some reason, your knot was a lot bigger than it normally is causing the condom to rip.

Birth control? He is lying about being on it. The prescription he showed you was a fake he forced a poor pharmacist to make as the pills inside that he showed you were nothing more than sugar pills mixed with the omegaverse version of Viagra known as an Amplifa that helps people knot while also increasing their fertility that he forced the drug dealers he hires to make. Each day, he will take them in front of you, knowing that they do not work. But if you are the one to supply the pills, then he is finding any pill or herb known to man to counteract it so that the birth control fails.

The Amplifa he uses to spike your drink and his own have a few side effects. I imagine omegas to have a reverse knot to match an alpha’s knot, which means they are doubly bonded. How it works is by inflating the sides of the passage like how, for an alpha, the base inflates to lock inside; it is to make sure that the alpha is being milked of all their cum and that the omega is too tight for the alpha to pull out. Since both he and you have been spiked with it, it causes your knot to inflate beyond the point of it being pulled out while he is too tight that it hurts to try and pull out. It also makes the knots last for hours upon hours instead of the normal half an hour to an hour, as it makes you cum so much. Not to mention it makes you incredibly more horny so you could fuck for longer.

With everything prepared, he has sex with you.

Once you are close to cumming he leg locks you making sure you can not push him off as you cum. Your knot inflating inside him as he milks you dry, all while he is still moving his hips in a specific motion to cause more friction that stimulates you and makes you hard yet again. Wiggling his hips and whining as you have yet another orgasm while the two of you are stuck together as his reverse knot will just not let go. Watching as his tummy begins to form a bump already as it grows from how much cum you have stuffed inside of it with every orgasm. He puts on the “I’m innocent, I swear!” act; he uses all the manipulation tactics he knows, the fake tears, the lies, the everything. He is just a simple omega who was trying to enjoy sex with his alpha; he has no idea what is going on. Whining over how worried he is since with this much cum he is most definitely already pregnant, even if you were being safe. All of this while he continues to move his hips as you cum once more.

And as soon as you are asleep from exhaustion and overstimulation he is gently caressing his stomach as he purrs. He can already imagine the litter of pups he will be having in a few months and how much of a happy family you all will be...

[poppadom0912]

Excuses

Warnings: Mentions of fainting, diabetes, canon-typical injuries

Summary: You suffer the consequences just because your teacher thought you were making excuses.

A/N: First fic of 2024!!! I had plans that I was going to post weekly in the new year just like last year but things went downhill. This january and february has had its very good but also really bad moments and even writing this was a struggle. I've found myself in a weird place of wanting to write but struggling and all of a sudden not being able to balance my schoolwork and writing. So I took a lil step back to solely focus on my work but looking at everything now, my fic updates will be much less frequent but hopefully just as or if not, more fun to read.

I feel bad for not saying or posting anything since the new year but I'm here now and hopefully will be more alive. I've got lots planned for you beautiful people, several series and way too many fics in my drafts that I cannot wait for you all to read. This wasn't as long or as juicy as I intended but my brain completely failed me so I hope this is good enough. I initially wanted to post this at the beginning of March but I finished the final editing today so here you go!!

Final note before we start, I have general knowledge about diabetes but that's all from my grandma. I have no idea if it's the same for teenagers so I'm sorry for any mistakes. Happy reading!!

Your biology teacher had been on maternity for three weeks now and you were seriously contemplating life.

Because of the crappy rules surrounding maternity leave, when your teacher refused to return before her three months ended, your school had a supply teacher fill in for her till she came back.

Since day one, you knew you hated her.

It was mid lesson and you knew as soon as you started feeling sluggish that your sugar levels were dropping. Your thoughts were only confirmed when your Dexcom receiver let you know of your decreasing glucose.

This wasn't a usual occurrence. Will and Jay always made sure you had eaten enough and you had the means to maintain the needed glucose levels so that nothing happened.

Alas, you were up late revising and you were stressing about keeping up your good grades. Jay was rushing you out the door because he needed to go to a scene he'd just been called to and Will was out walking Kol and hadn't seen you leave.

In conclusion, it'd been a hot minute since you last ate something.

The school were well aware of your diabetes. It was one of the very important things your brothers stressed them about when you first started.

Most students knew about it actually, having seen your Dexcom and not understanding since a diabetic child apparently wasn't common according to them.

So, when you randomly pulled out a snack from your bag mid class, no one questioned it and instead would make sure you were okay. There'd never been a problem before in school and everyone wanted it to stay that way.

However, this new teacher, Mrs Byrne was apparently completely unaware of your medical condition.

"Y/N. You know the rules about eating in class." She said strictly, pulling away all the attention from the board onto you.

She stopped you in the middle of opening the packet of fruit gummies. You frowned, looking at her confused along with your classmates.

"I have diabetes." You said bluntly, continuing to open the packet. "I don't eat this and I'll pass out."

Mrs Byrne only rolled her eyes, smiling at you condescendingly. "I've heard that excuse hundreds of times, give those to me."

You scoffed at the audacity, refusing to hand over what was yours.

It was when she started walking towards your desk with a pep in her step that the entire class got involved. Their raised voices overlapped, some angrier than others over what was happening.

However, you too were Stubborn alike to your brothers so you kept as firm of a grip of the packet. You turned a blind eye to the anger fuelled cover teacher. You continued to smile as she spewed threats of all sorts.

Due to your frustration and annoyance over the teacher who wanted to take your gummies away, you didn't notice how everything started change; how hard it was to move your eyes and lips, your limbs getting heavier and you thoughts slowly getting muddled up.

Lost in a daze, you were no longer able to fight back when she pulled harder, successfully snatching the small packet out of your hands. It was now that the class got furious, your friends were already up and at your side but now they were verbally attacking the teacher.

Fed up with her petty behaviour, you were going to get up and go to the nurses office who would take care of you but getting out your seat was harder said than done.

With one of your friends help, you weren't too sure who was helping you from your hazy sight that cleared when you blinked too many times.

You were wobbly on your feet, taking slow and hesitant steps towards the front of the classroom but before you could leave, you felt your legs give out and everything went black.

*****

It turned out that supposed crime scene that he was imminently needed at was nothing but a prank by a bunch of college boys resulting in a grumpy Hank putting them in cuffs and having them fined for a very reasonable reason.

That's how the rest of the unit found themselves finishing up paperwork, catching up about life in general as they debated what they were getting for lunch.

Jay was smugly sitting back, eyes flickering between Kevin and Adam who were bickering over something trivial when his phone rung, catching everyone's attention.

They were all so bored and normally when one of their phones went off during work hours, it meant something came up and they were needed.

In interest, everyone turned their heads towards Jay and waited for him to tell them they got a crime scene.

Picking up his phone, Jay's brows furrowed at the number, confused as to why your school was calling him in the middle of the day. They'd only call him if two things happened: You'd gotten in trouble or you got hurt.

"Hello. Is this Y/N Halsteads brother Jay?" A voice he couldn't recognised asked, most likely some lady from the main office.

"Yeah, that's me." Jay confirmed, sitting up in preparation for whatever he was going to be told.

"So sorry to interrupt you sir but Y/N collapsed in class." The lady said with guilt laced in her words. "Your other brother didn't pick up the phone. We called to let you know we had to call the paramedics and they've taken her to Chicago Med."

"Uh yeah." Jay said, collecting his jacket and keys. "Yes, thank you."

Not waiting for a reply, Jay hung up and quickly knocked on Hank's office door frame.

"Sarge, I gotta get Y/N-"

"Go get her. We're done here."

*****

Wanting to pull his hair out, Will rubbed his eyes in frustration, glaring at his patients scans that only confused him further. He was tired and was coming to half way through his twenty four hour shift.

"Dr Halstead- Uh, Dr Rhodes in T4." Maggie stumbled, looking down at her brick and making sure she read it correctly.

"What's wrong?" Will asked, confused as to why Maggie changed her mind which she usually never did.

"It's Y/N."

Now fully awake, Will followed Connor towards the ambulance bay where you were being rolled in. You were groggily sitting up on the stretcher, you hair a mess and a few scratches around your face and hands from when you fell.

"Sylvie, what happened?" Will asked the blonde paramedic while looking you over. He desperately wanted to check you over himself but let Connor do his thing. He really did not need Ms Goodwin on his case today.

"Teachers didn't tell us much but her classmates said she collapsed after not being able to eat." Sylvie relayed the minimal information she knew, shrugging her shoulders when the two doctors looked at her weirdly. "No one would tell us anything more."

"Y/N, it's Connor. Can you hear me kid?" Connor said while pulling out his penlight. He was like another brother to you, his concern just as high. "Can you tell me what happened?"

You groaned, mumbling nonsense with your eyes screwed closed. Your words were mostly unintelligible but Will understood them mere seconds later.

Fixing the problem you complained about, Will turned down the lights and let Connor continue fussing over you.

It didn't take long to find out the cause of your collapse, Will sighing at the news when he read the numbers from your tests.

"I thought she was always on top of her sugar levels." Connor said, closing the room door so you could sleep in peace.

And what he said was completely true but they weren't aware of why you couldn't today specifically of all days.

"She is." Will said, rubbing a hand down his face in frustration. "Maybe her dexcom malfunctioned or something."

Connor hummed, agreeing with his friend.

"Hmm, maybe."

*****

Arriving at Med, Will gave Jay a detailed rundown of everything he new about your medical state but also the events pre your hospital arrival.

Getting a good look at you, holding your hand in his and kissing you on your forehead, Jay was more than happy to leave you in your oldest brothers safe hands while he got to the bottom of this entire ordeal.

He noticed Sylvie was still at Med, Foster mentioning they were running low on a few supplies so they needed some stocking up. Jay took this opportunity to interview the two paramedics and try to get further understanding on this situation that wasn't making much sense to him.

Arriving at your school, Jay had some thoughts in mind but they weren't very concrete and his confidence wasn't as strong as he'd like it to be.

Walking into the school, Jay immediately noticed an entire class sitting and standing around in the corridor waiting in front of the principals office.

One of the girls who had been sitting in a chair had caught sight of Jay, her eyes widening before she smiled, gently nudging the girl next to her and pointing in his direction. The girls reaction was the exact same.

This created a sort of domino effect as the boy next to her noticed Jay and everyone was telling the other of his sudden arrival. The once silent corridor was now beginning to fill with murmurs and whispers, all their eyes glued onto his figure that moved down the corridor, their shocked faces quickly changing into smiles and smirks.

It seems that Jay had a reputation of sorts.

"Why are you making so much noise? What did I just say about talking-"

The principal cut himself off from his scolding when he suddenly noticed Jay's presence, his face blanching as all the pieces clicked into place.

"Detective Halstead! What a surprise, we weren't expecting to see you so soon-"

This time Jay cut him off, not too bothered about his lack manners. "My brothers with Y/N at the hospital so I thought there was no other perfect time."

The principal remained silent.

"Now, why don't you explain to me why my sister fainted under your watch?"

The students behind Jay couldn't help but snicker knowingly.