#no i have not asked anyone straight up for a test or whatever......

[autobahnmp3]

can't sleep bc im once again thinking that maybe i've convinced myself im nd when im actually just very anxious

[yourgamemasterthewhiterabbit]

Both my parents actually suffer from HORRID emotional dysregulation and are prone to snapping and going into rages. My sister is the same way tbh. I am now realizing this is why they are constantly baffled by the question of whether or not I am mad at them.

I don't have external meltdowns.

I could. I don't let it happen.

I keep my rage on the inside and stay pretty quiet about it. It's just as strong as theirs [physically shaking nose bleed from high blood pressure kind of bad], but like as a kid I saw how terrifying it was to be around [dad breaking dishes, mom putting our lawn chairs into walls] and I just internalized that I wasn't going to wear that anger on the outside.

So my mother genuinely cannot tell if I am just being quiet or if I am silently hearing the dial-up noises of pure rage. This has lead her to both making strong and confident statements like "You are a pacifist who would never hurt a fly U.U" but also acting like I am secretly dangerous maybe... It's because she has never seen me snap.

She knows what her temper is like [throwing chairs through walls], she knows what my father's temper is like [pick up child and toss out door], and she can tell I am being tested, but she doesn't know what happens when I snap or where that breaking point is.

Her -perhaps unhinged- solution to this, my whole life, has been to do things that should obviously enrage me or shut me down completely, like ignoring important boundaries, repeatedly, punishing me for expressing emotions or needs at all, etc... And then to constantly ask me if I am angry with her when I get too quiet [right after near directly telling me to shut up].

It has occurred to me now, they have never once seen me lose my temper, so they literally just can't tell if I am angry at them. My sister is easy, my mother fights and screams with my sister constantly, my mother understands this. My mother doesn't have any grasp of feelings or boundaries that are not screamed at her [apparently, and I fear my sister is the same way]. Her and my sister are close despite constant fucking fighting because they understand each other.

They are trying to get me to engage the same way and it is not working. I realize now that this has been hard for them.

I was so successfully taught to suppress my emotions, by being punished for any outburst, that rage quiet looks the same as any other kind of quiet from the outside. To them anyway.

I did tell her. For the record. I used my words. I did tell her very calmly that my response to rage, in order to avoid doing the things that terrified me as a child, was to simply leave [the autistic urge to GTFO]. When a situation or person causes too much of the dial-up rage noise, I simply extract myself from that situation, up to and including never speaking to a person again. I explained this calmly. I explained it calmly 100 times and I explained that I explain myself calmly as my rage response 1-5 [also pretty much every other negative emotion tbh], and I told her that what came next was me simply opting out and fucking off. I told her this. I couldn't understand why she never took me seriously, or why she never fucking understood.

I couldn't understand what made her like this.

But it's the same problem I have with everyone else multiplied by a factor of 10.

If I am explaining myself calmly, they can't understand that it's actually serious or that I am actually upset. ESPECIALLY because they read me as "female" and women "aren't that rational" so if I am not screaming and crying about something, which I never do, people assume I can't be upset and it isn't serious.

And then after having my boundaries ignored too many times despite having calmly explained how and why it's a problem [shaking inside or not]... I leave. I leave and everyone gets upset like this is unexpected behaviour, even though I told them 50 times that is how I would respond if they kept doing *the thing.*

And for neurotypical people especially, they are expecting there to be a disconnect between what someone says they need or feel and what their actually boundaries and feelings are, and they expect the latter to be demonstrated with emotions. Telling them bluntly you do not function that way somehow never helps?

My mother isn't just looking for normal yelling or a few tears to know I am serious, whether or not I do those either [I don't], she's looking for an explosion to know there's a problem at all.

Fucked if I know how she proceeds through life this way in general or if this is just her expectation of her own kids???

And I couldn't get why my mother couldn't read my emotions and didn't seem to think I have any. It's because she's testing for the rage limit to see where my 'actual' limit is instead of taking my word for it. Never the fuck mind that she could simply *not* test at my boundaries instead of letting me have them. Separate issue.

I couldn't figure out what made her *like this*

She's expecting me to throw a giant meltdown violent tantrum at people when I have 'actually' had enough. Maybe she got away with those being like 5'4" in another time, but I am the size of the average man, I do not get to have giant screaming rages, whether or not people perceive me consciously as a woman, and least of all because a lot of people -at least unconsciously- read me as 'masculine' or at least always "they guy" of the situation compared to all other women and some men [bigger stronger and more rational, more able to just absorb the damage and let it go so the less rational screaming/crying one doesn't have to be dealt with]. Even if it was in me to be willing to terrify people [usually never], there are such limited instances where it wouldn't just blow back on me. Potentially very dangerously.

I am going to be the quiet calm one. You are going to have to let me use my words, bitch.

So she kept ignoring my boundaries until I had to cut her out of my life, and she probably doesn't understand and probably thinks it feels sudden -after 36 long years of bullshit- abrupt and unfair.

But I told her hundreds of times.

I probably should have just screamed at her.

[sitepathos]

From Gold to Mold

Chapter 4: The Deal (Warning: this chapter will feature violence. Read at your own risk)

A/N: had free time this week to produce this. Next week is chock full of tests and midterms, so this’ll probably be the last chapter for some time. Enjoy! Also, I’m sorry to those who asked to be added to the tag list and weren’t. I tried to add many of you, but Tumblr wasn’t able to find your blog for whatever reason.

When you open your eyes, darkness goes on forever in all directions, the only thing you can see is yourself. Where are you and how did you get here?

“Hello,” you call out, hoping someone is nearby to hear you, not caring who hears you just as long as someone comes to you. “Is there anyone here?”

Nothing, which you expected, but you had hoped against reality that someone was here… wherever here is. The cold air surges through your body and you shiver, your teeth chattering, echoing in the void.

“What happened,” you ask yourself. “How’d I get here?”

Just then, your memory kicks in and images and words assault your mind all at once: walking through the East End, the three thugs, the dirty shack in the middle of the woods you had been dragged to, and—

“Oh my god,” you say as the final memory flashes before your eyes. “They killed me.”

That’s right, the flash of the muzzle and the sound of the gunshot still rattling in your head. And if you think hard enough, you can vaguely remember falling to the floor after the bullet entered your head.

“Wait,” you say, realizing something very important. “If they shot me, then why am I here?”

Sure, you aren’t religious (all beliefs in a just and loving god died after you lost your Momma and was forced to live in an abusive and neglectful household for thirteen years), but this dark and neverending void is a far cry from the bright and golden imagery that’s always been associated with heaven. And this sure isn’t the fire and brimstone that comes to mind when you think of hell. So, is this purgatory? Or limbo? You never could keep the two straight.

Is this your fate? To spend the rest of your afterlife alone in this abyss? Why couldn’t you just cease altogether? Was it too much to ask that you just close your eyes and never wake from your eternal slumber?

You realize you’re crying and you’re amazed that after crying so much throughout your life, you still have plenty of tears to shed, even in the afterlife. But that’s been your lot in life since you lost Momma: to be the world’s punching bag.

“Such powerful emotions,” a familiar voice says.

You look up in shock and see your Momma, looking exactly the same as the day she was taken from you.

“Momma,” you exclaim, rushing to her and embracing her, squeezing her as hard as your arms will allow, afraid that if you let go, she’ll disappear.

“This form brings out such joy, sadness, and loss in you,” she says. “Feelings from someone alive are far more vibrant than from someone deceased.”

“What,” you asks, looking up at her in confusion, but when you do, it’s not your Momma you see looking down at you, but Bruce. You let go of the man as quick as you can and put a bit of distance between the two of you.

“What did you do to my Momma, you son of a bitch,” you shout in disgust.

“This form brings out such anger, pain, and hatred in you,” Bruce says, looking you up and down as if dissecting you like a damn lab experiment. “How interesting.”

“What the hell are you talking about? How’d you get here and what did you do to Momma?”

“And it’s not just this form.” You see movement all around you and in perfect unison, the other members of the Wayne Family appear from the void. “You hold these forms in equal amounts of hatred and contempt.”

“You deem this one a failure,” Bruce says.

“This one a hypocrite,” Dick says.

“This one a brute,” Jason says.

“This one a know-it-all,” Tim says.

“This one a stranger,” Barbara says.

“This one annoying,” Stephanie says, before turning to Cassandra. “And while you’ve never heard that one speak, you deem her a freak.”

“And you deem this one a monster,” Damian says. He gestures to Bruce. “You hate this form and that one in equal measure, far surpassing the others.”

You see another figure step out of the void and when you make out the face, it’s Alfred. You feel relief surge through your body, happy to see the butler; if there’s anyone who you can depend on, it’s him.

“While this one serves the others, you hold great respect for this form,” Alfred says. “Although, you hold a not insignificant amount of resentment towards him.”

Your heart skips a little at the accusation. No, you love the man, who took the place of a father when Bruce failed to fill the void left by your Momma’s death; sure, you’ve had the occasional thought that if the man was given a choice between you and them, he’d choose them over you since he’s always helping them, but he’s always been there for you since day one!

“No,” you say, pleading with the man. “Alfred, I don’t!”

“But you do,” the butler responds. “According to you, he is the true master of your prison, but instead of using his power to make them acknowledge your existence, he allows them to continue parading through Gotham, fighting criminals.”

“You also believe all these forms belong in Arkham,” Bruce adds. “And that you wish to be the one to subject them to electroshock therapy.”

You finally realize that something’s wrong here. All of them have never been in your presence long enough for you to say how you feel about them (not that they’d care, anyway) and you’ve never told Alfred how you often daydream of locking them away in Gotham, strapping them to metal chairs, and flipping the switch to send hundreds of volts through their skulls, hoping to shock them into being decent human beings. All this has been kept in your head for well over a decade.

So, how the hell did they know all this?

“You’re not them, are you?”

“No,” Not-Bruce answers. “We only took the forms of those you see before you.”

“Then who the fuck are you,” you growl. “And where the fuck am I?”

“We have no name,” Not-Alfred says.

“We are one, and yet we are many,” Not-Damian finishes.

“It is impossible to define a being such as us,” Not-Jason chimes in.

“Alright, that doesn’t answer my question,” you mutter to yourself, but say it loud enough for them to hear. “Then answer me this: where am I? The last thing I remember was being shot by three thugs.”

“Yes, we know of your attack,” Not-Stephanie says.

“As for your question, we are appearing to you in your mind,” Not-Bruce says.

“My mind,” you exclaim. “How?”

“When you appeared to us, we reached out and established a link with you,” Not-Tim explains. “It is from there that we were able to peer into your mind and see your memories.”

“My memories,” you ask, dumbfounded.

“Yes,” Not-Damian responds. “Through your memories, we saw these forms and assumed them. We thought it would be more preferable for you to speak to us if we took the appearance of the people who have the most influence on your life.”

“If you looked through my memories, then you should know I want nothing to do with any of them,” you snap at them.

“We know now that we were in error,” Not-Bruce responds, a ghost of a smile gracing his face. “We owe you many thanks. Never before have we been put into a situation where have known the sensation of being incorrect. We will ponder this experience for years to come.”

“So, what do you really look like.”

All of them look at one another, unsure how to answer your question.

“We are not sure if you wish to see our true form,” Not-Alfred responds.

“While you are the first sentient being we’ve interacted with in our entire existence, we know that our true form is something many of your kind would consider… terrifying,” Not-Stephanie adds.

“I don’t care,” you snap. “I’m not talking to any of you while you look like this and I sure as hell don’t want you taking Momma’s form! And if we’re going to talk, we’re gonna do it face to face!”

“Very well,” Not-Bruce acquiesces.

And with that, everything fades to black and for a moment, you’re scared you’ll be left here in the dark by yourself again. Maybe you should’ve let them stay like that.

Just then, above you, you see an odd red glow. You look up and you feel your blood freeze, your heart stop, and the air catches in your lungs. Above you is a giant mass of red, bioluminescent flesh hanging from a cave ceiling, thick black tendrils extruding from it and digging deep into the surrounding rock, allowing it to remain suspended in the cavern. And if that didn’t freak you out enough, you can see the flesh obviously resembles the shape of a fetus in the fetal position. This thing looks like something out of an H.P. Lovecraft novel.

“Holy shit,” is all you can say.

“We told you you would not approve of our true form,” it says, its voice beaming directly into your mind.

“What are you,” you ask, still awestruck at the sight before you.

“We are have no name,” it responds. “But, with the knowledge we have accumulated over the centuries, we suppose you can call us the Megamycete.”

“Megamycete?”

“Yes, we are a supercolony of sentient fungus that has existed for over four-hundred years.”

“Four-hundred years? That’s as long as Gotham’s been around.”

“We have existed as the city above. When its founders first arrived, we were nothing more than a collection of small, independent and unaware colonies of mold. Not long after the first buildings were built, an earthquake shook the area and revealed something we now know as a ‘Lazarus Pit,’ a pool of green, luminescent liquid that possesses remarkable restorative properties, and the colonies that would become us were plunged into it.”

“And this pit made you the way that you are?”

“The pit made us aware, but it did not give us our intelligence. With our enhanced capabilities, we were able to spread out our roots beyond the mountain. Not long after, we discovered the corpses of the first of Gotham’s citizens, buried after they drew their last breath; when our roots came into contact with their bodies, we found we had the ability to archive the knowledge, memories, and even DNA of the deceased. We became obsessed with growing our archive, so as Gotham grew over the years, so did our roots; overtime, we archived hundreds of its deceased, increasing our intelligence and knowledge of the outside world. Now, our roots touch every part of this city, becoming one with it, not only archiving the remains of its living, but seeing and hearing everything that goes on within its boundaries.”

“So,” you say, your mouth becoming dry at your newfound knowledge. “You’re like some fungal god?”

“While we know many of your kind may consider a being such as us god, we hold no illusion of being a divine entity. We think of ourselves as an immortal observer.”

As you attempt to process this information, your mind brings something to your attention and you feel your heart stop when you realize it. You really don’t want to know the answer, but there’s that damn stubborn part of you that has… no, it needs to know.

“So,” you begin, trying to summon the courage to ask your question. “Earlier, you said all of this is going on in my head, right?”

“Yes, our roots were able to establish a link with you and allow us to convene with you in your mind.”

“So, if we’re in my head right now, where’s me? I mean, my body?”

Although the Megamycete doesn’t have eyes, nor does it turn anything that resembles a head, you can feel it shift its awareness to the side, as if looking at something. You feel yourself break into a cold sweat as you slowly turn your head to the left, wondering what exactly you’re going to find.

And when you do, your greeted by a sight that makes you feel as if the world around you had crumbled away and you’ve been left behind to float in the void left behind: you, lying in a mess of tendrils composed of mold, broken, battered, and bloody; your limbs lying in directions they’re definitely not supposed to be in, your eyes glazed over, and a gaping bullet hole in your left temple.

“Oh my god,” you shout, utterly horrified at the sight before you. “Oh my god!”

“We saw the torture those three criminals subjected you to. Their leader was quite thorough in inflicting damage.”

“So that’s it, huh?” While this is all just some projection in your head, you feel like you’re hyperventilating. “This is how it ends: being eaten by some sentient mushroom and becoming a part of it? Doomed to spend the rest of eternity tethered to this damn city? I survive in a place where you’re likely to be killed by some trigger-happy murder clown and his psycho-ass whore while getting your mail and some two-bit thug is what does me in?”

“If you look closer, you will find that you are still alive.”

You practically snap your head to look back at your body and sure enough, you can see your chest moving up and down. It may not be much, but it’s there.

“I’m alive,” you ask, shocked at the sight of you breathing.

“You still live,” it answers back. “Your life force is low, but still there.”

“But how? He shot me in the head and then threw me down here! People don’t live after something like that!”

“While a gunshot to the head is normally fatal, our archive shows us two revelations: that the bullet did not go through your brain, but graze it and that the bullet used was of a lower caliber. While the wound was grievous, you still had a chance of surviving it. As for the fall into our chamber, your body was caught onto our roots as it fell, slowing it down and allowing it to land with diminished force.”

“But I’m still going to die, right?”

“Yes,” it answers, seemingly sympathetic. “If you were in a proper hospital, you could recover, but right now, your body is slowly shutting down. By the time anyone found you, you would long be deceased.”

So, you survive attempted murder, but you’ll still die in the end.

“Fuck,” you mutter. “Wasn’t the end I had in mind.”

“What did you have in mind for your death,” the Megamycete asks.

“Shouldn’t you know what i had in mind for my death?”

“We do, but our knowledge shows us talking to the dying brings a form of comfort to them. Plus, this is the first time we have had the chance to interact with a living mortal. We wish to prolong the experience as much as possible.”

You chuckle at that. “I thought I would spend my final days back home in Goodsprings, sitting in the big recliner Momma bought for me. I use to spend Saturday mornings in it, eating cereal and watching cartoons.” You smile at the memory of the chair. “It was a damn good chair.”

“We see it, a brown cushioned seat, perfect for watching television or reading books.”

“Yeah, that’s the one. Would’ve been perfect to spend my last days in.”

“Perhaps you still can.”

You look up at the Megamycete. “What?”

“We offer you a deal: we will repair your body and give you the strength to leave this chamber and rejoin the outside world.”

“And you’ll get what?”

“You become our host.”

“What,” you balk. “Host?”

“Yes, we will entangle ourselves with your very being, becoming as one.”

“And why the hell would I agree to that,” you exclaim. “You fix my body just to take it over? No deal!”

“You misunderstand. We will not override your control over your body. We will be nothing more than a spectator in your life, seeing but being powerless to intervene. In addition to being restored to your former glory, you will gain access not only to our vast archive of knowledge, but gain abilities many of your kind would consider supernatural.”

That certainly cools your temper. “So, you fix me up and give me superpowers, but all you get in return is front row seats to my life. Sounds like I’m the only one benefitting from this deal.”

“On the contrary, we stand to gain just as much as you do. For over four-hundred years, we could see the outside world, but not join it. With each new corpse we archived, we began to desire a way to interact with the world firsthand and not by mere memories. You are our solution to this dilemma. Through you, we will know what it means to feel the sun on our face, or to taste the finest meals, or to hear a symphony.”

The Megamycete’s words shock you to your core. You guess if you were stuck in this cavern for four centuries and only knew of a world beyond it through memories, you’d do anything to experience it, too.

“Please, Y/N, we beg you to accept our deal. We promise everything we are, from our archive to our longevity, will be at your disposal. You will be stronger, smarter, and better than those who thought less of you. In comparison to you, they will be nothing more than mere ants.”

You’ve thought about showing the Waynes up for years, to be able to pay Jason back for that black eye, to make Tim feel like a complete idiot, and especially to make Damian feel inferior in every way possible.

“We can do that for you. With us at your side, you’ll attain a level of perfection they could never dream of. All we want is to be able to witness this firsthand.”

“Alright,” you relent. “If all you want is to go outside in exchange for making me better than them, you have a deal.”

“We thank you, Y/N,” it says, sounding incredibly happy. Relieved, even.

And with that, your world fades to black once again and when you open your eyes, you find that you’re back in your body, feelings of pain overwhelming your senses, making it hard to concentrate on the Megamycete pressing its tendrils into you. You watch in total awe as the giant, fetus-like mass that is the Megamycete begin to shrink and when you look down where the tendrils are embedded in your skin, you can see a black substance being injected into under your skin. The more of the substance being pumped into your body, the smaller the Megamycete gets.

That’s when you feel weird all over, like every cell in your body is transforming into something else. While not painful, per se, it’s an incredibly odd sensation.

(Your body is becoming one with our mold,) you hear the Megamycete explain in your head. (Not only will it repair the damage that was done to you, you will find that you are far more durable than any mere mortal and have the ability to change your form into any that is stored in our archive, both man or beast.)

“Wait, you’re saying I can shapeshift?”

(If that is what you wish to call our mimetic abilities, then yes, you may “shapeshift.”)

When the last of the mold was transferred to you, you find your body stitching itself up and the incredible pain you were in fading fast, like it was never there. You see a puddle of water lying nearby and when you look in it, you see that all your injuries are gone, even the scar on your left check that Damian gave you three years ago. If you didn’t know any better, you’d say it never happened at all.

And not only do you look better, you feel better! You wouldn’t say you were the healthiest person ever, but you tried to stay somewhere in between active and sedentary; sure you weren’t going to be running any marathons, but you were able to climb the many stairwells at school when the elevator took too long. Now, however, you felt like you could run and win a marathon, or climb up a mountain without climbing gear, or swim the English Channel during a hurricane! And you didn’t feel better physically, but intellectually as well! Gotham, for all it many flaws, has attracted the best artists, architects, doctors, engineers, musicians, scientists, and more; you feel your mind being rushed with the knowledge and memories of countless people throughout the ages, ranging from the city’s early days to now. Hell, you even have access to the memories and knowledge of some of Bruce’s greatest employees, giving you knowledge on much on Wayne Enterprises’ tech and projects that he’s spared no expense in keeping under wraps. Maybe you can get a pretty penny from Lex Corp in exchange for this information since everyone knows Bruce and Lex are bitter rivals and are constantly trying to one-up each other, with Bruce, unfortunately, often being the winner in their battles to develop the next technological development.

“I feel like I could run circles around Einstein,” you laugh, completely blown away with your newfound intellect. Right now, you feel like you could write a symphony that would make Beethoven feel inadequate while at the same time painting a masterpiece that would eclipse the Mona Lisa and designing a fusion reactor capable of powering the entire country. You look around the cavern, looking and not seeing a way out. “Now how do I get out of here?”

(There is a passage directly above you.) You look up to see a big hole in the chamber’s ceiling. (That is how you ended up here when those three threw you in here. Our archives have absorbed many of Gotham’s birds. Any one of them should give you the power to fly out of the chamber.)

The mention of the three thugs remind you of your stolen pen and Game Boy, which then fills you with rage. You’ve never liked thieves and the thought of your Momma’s treasured pen and your gift from your thoughtful boss in the hands of such lowlifes gives you even more of a reason to hate them. By now, they could be anywhere, maybe even outside of the city for fear of your disappearance being reported (mostly by Alfred, the only person left in Gotham who would give a damn).

(Remember our roots span all of Gotham,) the Megamycete says. (Through them, we have seen and heard all that occurs in this city. As our host, you now have access to them. All you have to do is reach out and think of who you wish to find.)

Following its advice, you reach out and feel the roots that entangle Gotham like a spider web. As soon as you do, you’re overwhelmed with sights and sounds from every corner of the city.

(Focus on the three,) it advises you. (If you concentrate on who exactly you want, the roots will do the rest.)

It takes some doing, but you manage to push aside the multitude of people that are in your mind’s eye and focus on the three kidnappers. You’re taken across the city, rushing past the many buildings and stopping at some seedy building in Coventry. Your newfound knowledge of Gotham tells you this is the My Alibi bar, a place for Gotham’s criminals to get together to eat, trade gossip, and find work.

With your destination known, you search through the Megamycete’s archives and something to get you out of here and find something that should do the job: crows. Your body manifests into a murder of crows and takes off in perfect unison, keeping in formation. It’s extremely weird to be a bunch of birds; you know that what was once your body is now numerous birds, but while you’re multiple birds, you’re still one person. You can see through all their eyes all at once and change their flight path and they actually do it like it’s nothing. In a matter of seconds, you’re on the surface, flying above the forest and looking down at the twinkling lights of Gotham’s buildings.

“You know, from above, that cesspit actually looks kinda pretty.”

(We thank you, Y/N. We never thought we would be able to experience such a sight firsthand, but here we are. Now, shall we retrieve your stolen property?)

The crows fly through the city, zipping past the buildings and as you do, you realize that you’ve just fulfilled a dream you’ve had since you were ten-years-old: to fly like a bird. When you realized that the Waynes were awful and all you wanted was to go back to Goodsprings— to take flight like a bird and leave this city and the Waynes behind. Now, you can turn into a flock of birds, or even grow a pair of wings, and fly all the way to Nevada!

Eventually, you reach the My Alibi club, which looks even worse in person than through the Megamycete’s roots. You land on a nearby building’s rooftop and see the only security for the entire building is a single bouncer. You command the birds to land near the bouncer and when they do, they come together and reform your body, but instead of revealing you, you command hardened black mold to cover your body, not wanting your face to be seen by anyone.

What’s going to happen here needs to not get back to you.

“What,” the bouncer stutters. “What the hell?”

“Leave,” is all you say.

The bouncer says nothing before he runs away.

(Are you ready,) the Megamycete asks as you near the door. (We highly doubt your three would-be murderers will take your return likely. Nor will they likely be in a hurry to return your property. You may have to resort to violence.)

“Good,” is all you say as you enter.

The noise coming from patrons’ conversations, drinking, and arguing comes to an end when you walk inside. A quick look around and you can tell this place lives up to its reputation of being for Gotham’s criminal element; everyone here looks like they’ve done time and will probably spend their last days in prison.

And in the back corner sit your targets, looking at you with their table filled with glasses and plates of food. The sight fills you with rage; they shot you in the head and threw you in a ditch and here they are, eating and drinking like they just got off work and wanted something to take the edge off. And what really pisses you off is seeing the one called Butch holding your Game Boy like it was his right!

“I’m here for them,” you say, pointing to your quarry. “The rest of you are free to go.”

“Up yours, freak,” some shithead shouts back, pulling out a revolver and fires it three times. The bullets hit the hardened mold and fall to the floor, looking like crushed tin cans rather than deadly projectiles. “What the hell?”

He goes to fire it again, but you raise your hand and a tendril emerges from it, piercing the man’s heart; he drops his gun and lets out a disgusting gurgle, blood dripping from it and pooling on the floor, before falling silent, dead.

While most of your mind is disturbed at the sight; you’ve just killed a man, his blood literally on your hands, but you can’t deny there’s a part of you that’s not saddened by your actions. After all, he did try to kill you and if he was in a place like this, chances are he was a piece of shit and Gotham’s a slightly better place for his passing.

For a moment, everyone is paralyzed at what just happened. The place is so quiet, a pin could drop and it would deafen everyone. Then, everyone breaks out of their stupor, practically all of them pulling out their guns and begin shooting at you, but just like their friend here found out, their bullets are useless against you. Numerous tendrils emerge from all over your body and rush at them; some of them empaling them, others wrap around their throats and crush them, while the rest just whip them with enough force to break them in two. One by one, they fall until it’s just you and your prey.

“Look, man,” you killer whimpers as you draw closer to him. “I don’t know what you want, but you can take what we have. Tom, hand him the bag.”

The other one throws a bag, which lands at your feet; you look down to see it’s your book bag. You pick it up and open it to find everything still inside, from your binder and notebooks to your phone and the gift box Mr. Chen gave you. You’re relieved to know that you’re not missing any of your school stuff and don’t have to go looking for anything or replace it. You are, however, missing all the money from your wallet, but a look on the table shows where it went to. But, you’re still missing the most important thing: your Momma’s pen.

“Here, take this, too.” The leader takes the Game boy from Butch and holds it out to you, which you snatch from him, reveling in the fear in his eyes as you did, and carefully place it inside.

That just leaves one last order of business. You extend two tendrils and wrap them around the leaders throat and hold him up from the floor, his legs kicking around, trying and failing to get him back on the ground; his arms pathetically wrap around the tendrils, trying to crate some room for him to breath, and his mouth is gaping like a fish out of water, trying to get any sort of air. His cohorts go to say something, but a quick glare from you shuts them up. You bring the man close to you until you can see your reflection in his eyes, which are wide and full of terror, and open your mold mask, revealing your identity to them and based off their expressions, all three men could probably crush coal into diamonds with their sphincters.

“Holy shit,” Butch whispers, his face showing his complete disbelief.

“It’s that kid,” Tom adds, his face mirroring his partner. “But, we killed him, right?”

“My pen,” you say, looking at this piece of human filth with complete contempt. “Where is it?”

You loosen your grip to allow him to speak.

“My pocket,” he says. “It’s in my pocket. All the pawn shops were closed, so I wasn’t able to sell it.”

While you’re happy that your beloved pen is not is some sleazy pawn shop’s display window, you’re utterly disgusted at the thought of this man’s audacity to think he had the right to sell your most treasured possession like its some worthless trinket. A small tendril emerges form your shoulder and searches the man’s pocket and pulls out that beautiful gold ink pen. You have it deliver it to your left hand, which is empty as your right hand is being used to hold the man in front of you, and hold onto it with a vice-like grip.

(Not even death could separate you from your Mother’s memento,) the Megamycete states. (We are impressed at your dedication to it.)

“Look, we’re sorry for what we did to you,” the man pathetically whimpers. “Really, we are.”

“Did you know this was my Momma’s pen,” you ask as if the man had not just said something. “I lost her on my sixth birthday and was forced to leave my home in Goodsprings to live here. This pen is the only thing of hers I was able to bring with me. And you had felt like you had the right to take something I treasure more than anything else in the world and pawn it off for some petty cash.”

“We didn’t know, man,” Butch responds, now realizing the depth of his mistakes. “We’re sorry.”

“We promise we won’t tell anyone about this,” Tom adds. “Just let us go and you’ll never see or hear from us ever again.”

“You’re right, we won’t see each other again, but wouldn’t you like to know who I was forced to live with?” The three of them pathetically nod in unison and you have to fight the urge to laugh. A few hours ago, these men were looking down at you, sure they could do anything they wanted, but now, here you are, far above them in the food chain. “I was forced to live with my father, Bruce Wayne.”

“But he said—“ the leader starts to say, but you cut him off.

“That bastard has ignored me since I moved in with him,” you shout, shutting him up. “I was his first biological son, but he’s completely forgotten about me!” You take a deep breath. Just the mention of him brings out the worst in you. “But it doesn’t matter. I don’t need him. Just like you don’t need your lives.”

And with that, you rip the man’s head clean off his shoulders, not even giving him the chance to realize his fate before killing him. You release the body and both it and his head crumple to the floor in a heap of lifeless meat and to further invoke fear in them, you stomp on the head while looking at them, the thing making a wet splat sound. The other two shout, but you cut them down with ease, tendrils emerging from your back and wrapping around their heads and crush them with ease, showering the floor in their blood and grey matter. Their bodies fall to the floor and flail around for a while before finally stopping.

(Well done,) the Megamycete praises. (You cut down these criminals and made Gotham safer faster than any police officer we have known. Perhaps the local police should seek out your services?)

“Not gonna happen,” you laugh as you walk out of the bar with your backpack in hand. “I have no intention of staying in this place. Once I graduate, I’m going back home.”

(Yes, Goodsprings. A small town located in Nevada. We look forward to experiencing your return to your point of origin.)

And with that, you manifest a pair of black wings on your back and take flight, flying far above the city’s skyscrapers, so hopefully you’re safe from detection. In just a few minutes, you’ve flown from Burnley Island to Bristol, something that should’ve taken almost an hour by car. Thanks to the Megamycete’s roots, you can see the Bats still out and about throughout Gotham, so you don’t have to worry about running into any of them while hurrying into your room.

You land down the street to avoid being picked up by the security cameras (Bruce’s picture is the definition of paranoid based on the amount of cameras in both the estate and in the house itself) and walk the rest of the way there. Normally, walking down the marathon-length driveway to the manor when coming home from work, but his time, you cross the distance like it’s nothing; in fact, you feel like you can do this another dozen times and still feel energized.

But, while you’re physically invigorated, you’re mentally drained and all you want to do is curl up and bed and pass out; you enter Wayne Manor and hurry to your room, never more thankful for being far from the rest of the household than you are now. While you’ve been flying under the radar of Gotham’s vigilantes for years now, you’ll afraid that even they won’t be able to ignore you when they found out about your newly gained powers. During your stay here, you’ve listened to their conversations when they thought you weren’t around and you know that while they distrust everyone (even each other based on the fact that no one seems to be allowed to have secrets), they distrust those with superpowers the most. Two years you listened in on a conversation between Bruce and Superman, who offered to help him during a time when many of Arkham’s most dangerous patients escaped all at once, and Bruce said in a tone that felt like sandpaper being dragged across your face: “Gotham’s off limits to metas. You step one foot in my city and you’ll regret it.”

Honestly, you’re confident that Bruce is only on this planet to be the biggest asshole who ever lived. He treats his first biological son like shit, he raises his “true children�� to be as paranoid and pessimistic as him, and he threatens anyone who offers his sorry ass any kind of help. It seems to you that the only one who should’ve died that night in Crime Alley is Bruce.

You shove the man’s image in your head aside. Before tonight, he wasn’t important to you, but now, he’s irrelevant. You never needed him before, but now, you really don’t. With the Megamycete, you have everything you need.

Just then, your phone rings, bringing you out of your thoughts. You fish out your phone and look on the screen to see Alfred’s caller ID staring back at you.

“Hello,” you answer.

“Master Y/N, are you alright?”

“Yeah, of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Because it’s over an hour since you should’ve called me since getting off work.” You wince when you peek at your phone and see you’re overdue your nightly call with the butler. “So, I ask again: are you alright?” Based off his tone, he’s not going to accept “I’m fine” as an answer.

“Yeah, I am.” You quickly think of anything that could explain your tardiness and realize something: the best lie is an obvious truth. You just need to modify it a bit. “I just stayed behind to tell Mr. Chen goodbye. Today was the last day for the store because his daughter said Gotham was too dangerous for him to stay by himself, so she brought him to her home today.”

“Oh, Master Y/N, I’m sorry.” His tone says he’s bought it and you actually feel bad lying to the man you’ve come to see as a father figure. “I know how much you loved working there. Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I will be. I’m gonna miss him.”

“Of course you will, he was a good man and you were the best employee he could ask for. Can I do anything for you? I’m halfway through with my vacation, perhaps I should—“

“No,” you cut the man off. “You don’t have to come back early, Alfred.” With everything that’s happened today, you need some time to prepare yourself before facing Alfred in person again. It would be a disaster for you to expose yourself as some form of metahuman in front of him. Plus, he deserves to have all his allotted vacation time. “I’ll be fine, really.”

“If you’re sure,” he says, obviously wanting to say more, but doesn’t press the issue. “I’ll let you go, I’m sure you’re tired and you need your rest. Please make sure you catch up on your sleep I’m sure you’ve missed this week during your spring break.”

“I will, Alfred, don’t worry. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

“Very good, Master Y/N. Good night, my boy.”

“Good night.”

You hang up and let out a sigh of relief, glad he bought it.

(You say you trust the butler with your life, but keep the events of tonight a secret from him. Why?)

“Because Alfred’s highly protective and would most likely steal a boat and sail back to Gotham within an hour if I told him I was kidnapped. And if he knew about you, he’d probably drag me to a hospital and have every last trace of mold surgically removed.”

(We do not wish for that to happen.)

“Me neither, bud. You know, after tonight, I think we’re gonna do great things together.”

(We agree. Now, heed the words of your butler and rest. Tonight was very eventful for you. It would not do well for our host to shirk in his bodily needs.)

You chuckle and strip down to your boxers before climbing into bed. Not long after you get comfy, you feel yourself drift off to sleep. For the first time ever, you’re actually looking forward to waking up in Gotham.

Bruce hears Jason whistle at the sight, but says nothing in favor of studying the carnage inside the My Alibi bar. Bodies are scattered everywhere around the establishment, some are relatively intact while others look like they were ripped in half.

“Looks like someone had fun here,” Jim says as he approaches him, Jason, and Damian. “What do you think?”

“Looks like someone had a score to settle,” he responds to the police commissioner. He motions to the remains of three men crowded together in a corner of the bar with their heads missing; two of the heads are near the rest of their bodies while the third has been reduced to a fine red paste. “Especially these three. Based on how they were killed, I’d guess whoever did this was after them.”

“Doesn’t look like Joker’s handiwork,” Jim adds. “No one here’s smiling and the place is devoid of murderous gag toys.”

No, this is definitely not the clown’s MO. Neither does it match the MO of anyone currently missing from Arkham. The only one he could think of that could rip apart and crush some of the victims is Bane, but that doesn’t explain why the remaining victims are impaled; plus, the giant is still locked up in Arkham’s high-security ward. So, this can only mean one thing.

“This is definitely the work of someone new,” he says, bending down to study the squashed head. “And with this being the only scene we know of, this was their first time killing.”

Whoever did this is highly dangerous and needs to be stopped and fast before even more people get hurt. Looks like he and his family are going to have their hands full for the foreseeable future.

Tag List: @space1crow @bat1212 @minkyungseokie @nosyrobin @bunbunboysworld @kitty-from-daaaa-voidddd @feral-childs-word @phoenixgurl030 @soriansick @hellcatsworld @prettyboys247 @marsmabe @paolexsstuff @c0l1fl0r @starryperson @lunaluz432 @orbitingtraveler @roseytheteacup @bundlofcigars @kore-of-the-underworld @kiarst @vanessa-boo @moxiemy @greatwhisperspaper

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

hiii i luv ur work^^ can i request a fic where carmy get sucked off so good it makes his brain short-circuit a little? like he came home all tired and pent up n reader just "blow" it all away. wanna see this man get taken care of🥺 he's alway got so much on his mind i just wanna see him fucked till his brain is empty

Short Circuit.

Carmy doesn’t know how to shut his brain off. Luckily, you do.

pairing - roommate!carmen berzatto x female reader

warnings - smut. cursing.

word count - 1.8k

authors note - carmy’s a little bitch in this one!! mwahahaha!! to my love who requested - i’m sorry I ended up making him a bit pathetic here, but in my defence… he does give off the energy of a wet cat, so. this set in the roommates universe, but the fics have no particular order <3

if you enjoyed, please reblog!! reblogs are the only way to circulate my fics, which in turn creates more. <3

masterlist. inbox. series masterlist.

“Sit the fuck down.”

Carmy blinks at you like a deer caught in headlights, confused and struggling to process.

“W-what?”

“You heard me, Carmen. Sit the fuck down before I shove you there myself.”

You gesture at the couch only a few feet away, crossing your arms over your chest expectantly.

He exhales shakily before placing his mug of coffee on the kitchen counter, walking over to do as you ordered.

He’s never really been bossed around by you before. Sure, you scold him occasionally, warn him when he does something wrong, but never like this. He can’t tell if he likes it. He thinks that maybe he does.

He gets comfy on the couch, sitting back against the cushions and spreading his legs. His white t shirt stretches deliciously across his broad shoulders, tight and worn. His old flannel pyjama pants look so cosy, you itch to reach out and run your hand across them.

Carmy’s watching you curiously, waiting for your next move. He can’t predict what’s going to happen, which would usually make him nervous. But right now, he’s got electricity buzzing through his veins, crackling and charged.

You set your own mug down and saunter over in his direction, as if you have all the time in the world. You stop at the window and shut the blinds, smirking over your shoulder when he raises his eyebrows in a silent question.

“Don’t want to give the neighbours a show.”

Carmy’s breath hitches in his chest, panting with anticipation. You crack your knuckles and stretch your arms above your head, suppressing a laugh when you see his eyes glued to the skin you expose between your t shirt and pyjama pants.

You stand in front of where he’s sat, patient and waiting. You look so tall, looking down on him, so completely powerful. He’s suddenly very confused by his own feelings.

“I’m sick of you bitching and moaning,” you begin, dropping to your knees on the patterned rug. “So I’m gonna make you shut the fuck up.”

Carmy suddenly sits up straight, full attention captured.

“What?”

“God, do you ever listen, Carmen?”

He’s silenced by your rebuttal, so you continue.

“You’re stressed to the max, and you don’t know how to leave work at work. You bring it home, complain for hours, and then wonder why you can’t relax. You need to shut your brain off.”

Carmy swallows harshly, eyes never leaving yours.

“And how am I supposed to do that?”

“You’re not. I’m gonna do it for you.”

With that, you rise up onto your knees so you’re face to face with your roommate.

“You okay with this?” you whisper, searching his features for any signs of trepidation.

“More than okay,” he breathes, leaning in to you. “Kiss me first? Please?”

You don’t think anyone would be able to resist him in this moment, when he looks and asks so pretty.

“Whatever you want, babe.”

You press your lips to his gently, testing the waters. Carmy instantly pulls you in with his arms around your back, deepening the kiss. You slip your tongue into his mouth and take control, nipping at his bottom lip when he gets too cocky.

“I’m in charge,” you tell him lowly. “If you wanna stop, say stop. But otherwise, I’m gonna keep going until you can’t remember your own name.”

Carmen’s eyes roll back at the promise, head hitting the sofa behind him as he groans. You settle back down between his legs, pulling his pyjama pants off and throwing them aside.

You trail open mouthed kisses up his thighs, starting at his knee and ending at his hip. Occasionally you bite down, soothing the sting with your tongue as you go. When he starts to fidget, you fully sink your teeth into his muscle, sharp and warning. He flinches, and you smirk.

“Patience, Carmen.”

“Don’t wanna be fuckin’ patient,” he grumbles under his breath, petulant as ever.

You look up at him firmly, and he gets the message.

Running your fingers up and down his thigh, you sit and enjoy the way goosebumps rise across his skin. You’re on a power trip, buzzing with the adrenaline of having a man like Carmy at your mercy.

“Good things come to those who wait,” you tease, before dancing your fingertips across the material of his boxers. His hips buck up into your hand and you relent, pulling his underwear down and off in one quick move.

He hisses as the cool air of the room hits his heated skin, the combination of sensations overwhelming.

You kiss along his hipbones, tasting salt and the musk that’s so Carmy. Nudging your nose into the juncture of his thigh, you chuckle when he shudders.

“Please, babe.”

“What do you want, Carm?”

“Just- just do something, please. Anything.”

Maybe it’s the rare show of manners, or maybe it’s his pleading tone, but you finally take pity on him. Grasping him in your hand, you give your wrist an experimental twist, biting your lip when he groans.

“Yeah,” he murmurs, all breathy and strained. He sounds so pretty like this, all loose limbed and pliable. “Shit, babe. Yeah.”

You take your time learning what he likes. Twisting, pulling, applying a little pressure. Carmy is writhing in his seat, completely unable to keep still. You keep pushing his hips back down firmly, putting him in his place.

He has his eyes screwed shut, head thrown back into the couch cushions, gorgeous neck exposed. You take him by surprise by wrapping your lips around him, sucking gently. His hand flies to your head, grasping for grip, for any kind of anchor.

You double down on your efforts, twisting your wrist as you hollow your cheeks. You rake the nails of your other hand down his thigh, squeezing occasionally to let him know you’re still good.

You feel his muscles go tense, knuckles gripping the cushion underneath him. He’s right on the edge - you can sense it.

So, you stop.

You pull away completely, laughing when his eyes shoot open, brows furrowed together.

“W-what? What the fuck? Why’d you stop?”

“Because I can.”

Carmy doesn’t even have the energy to come up with a sarcastic response. Instead, he sinks further into the couch, looking down at you with those big blue eyes.

“Babe.”

“So whiny. Jesus, Carmen, have some self respect.”

On any other day, he wouldn’t take that lying down. He’d sass you twice as hard, smirking when you roll your eyes. But today, he doesn’t have it in him.

“Please.”

“Oh you sound so pretty when you beg.”

He blushes, heat blooming up his chest and across his cheeks. He reaches out and traces your lips with his thumb, a tender gesture among all of the filth currently occurring.

“Do it more.”

He blinks at you, wondering if he heard you correctly.

“What?”

“Listen for once in your life, Berzatto. I said, do it more. Beg. Beg for it, and I’ll make you come.”

Carmy thinks he might have died and gone to heaven. He’s never seen this side of you before - in all honesty, you didn’t know it existed. He’s discovering a lot about himself tonight, and as confusing as it is, he’s loving it.

“Please, honey. Please.”

You click your tongue disapprovingly, shaking your head.

“Nuh uh. I want you to beg so hard that I am dripping, Carmen. Make it count.”

“You’re getting off on this,” he chuckles in disbelief. “Fuck, that’s so hot.”

You mime tapping an imaginary watch on your wrist, signalling him to hurry up. In reality, you’d kneel here on the rug all night if he wanted, content to watch him all high strung and flushed.

“Okay, okay. Sweetheart, please. Fuck, I need it. Need it so bad. Need you so bad. Just- give me anything, something, please.”

His voice has gone all breathy, shaky and unsure. He sounds like he’s on the verge of tears, and the mental image of him crying because of you turns you on more than it should.

“Oh baby,” you coo. “Was that so hard? Hmm?”

He shakes his head, bitten lip between his teeth.

“Gonna give you what you need now, because you were so good. My pretty, pretty boy.”

It might be your tone, or it might be because you called him your boy, but Carmy melts. He’s nothing but a puddle, mewling and panting, no coherent thoughts left in his brain.

You get back to work, hollowing your cheeks and working whatever you can’t fit in your mouth with your soft hands. You swirl your tongue, pressing it to the underside of him when you pull back slightly for air.

You wonder, for a second, if you’ve broken your roommate. Nonsense is leaving his lips in constant streams, babbling under his breath like he’s lost his mind.

“Yeah baby, keep going please, please don’t stop.”

“Fuck you’re so good, s’good, so good.”

“Just wanna come, please honey, I’ll do anything. Anything you want.”

“Ohhh, yesyesyes, oh fuck, thank you baby, shit.”

You keep humming in response, and the vibrations are Carmy’s undoing. His hips jolt upwards as his back arches off the couch, fingers scrambling for purchase. He hits the back of your throat and you groan, letting him ride it out however he needs. He relaxes back into his original position, body completely spent.

You squeeze his thigh to get his attention, making sure he watches as you swallow everything he’s given to you. He groans, low and tired, shaking his head with a smile on his face. You rest your head on his leg, looking up at him.

“You good, Carm?”

He nods, trying to gather the energy to answer you properly.

“Yeah,” he says after a while. “I genuinely think I’ve never been better.”

You laugh, and the sound makes him grin, all slow and saccharine.

“I can’t move. Think you’ve ruined me.”

“That was the plan,” you wink, standing up and pulling his boxers back up his legs.

You grab a bottle of water from the kitchen, watching as he downs it all in one go. Sitting next to him on the couch, he pulls you into his side, slotting you there perfectly.

“Thank you,” he whispers into the evening dusk of the room. “Not just for making me come harder than I ever have in my life. But, you know… for everything.”

You chuckle, intertwining your fingers with his.

“Of course. You’d do the same for me.”

“Next time you have a bad day, I’m gonna throw you on the couch and eat you out until you cry.”

You groan, pinching his thigh in warning.

“Don’t threaten me with a good time.”

@enigmaticloki @kaelabear @idontexist-anymore @jazminsjaz @kingsqueensandvagabonds

[suzukiblu]

"Lex Luthor's latest character flaw" poll winner, "deciding he wants grandbabies and giving Robin a cloning lab about it". Behold, a new WIP strikes!!

“What,” Tim says, staring blankly at the brightly-lit and airy sunroom full of very obvious cloning technology in the very expensive penthouse that Lex Luthor’s bodyguards just dragged a handcuffed Red Robin and Spoiler into after kidnapping them straight off patrol in the Diamond District in the middle of an active crisis situation with the League of Assassins and disabling all their tech and every single one of their trackers six and a half hours ago, down to the bastardized Kryptonian-tech ones in their back molars and two more in both of their suits that Tim didn’t even know existed, plus the one he put in Steph’s collar that she didn’t know existed. Babs is probably just about feral by now. Bruce is definitely feral by now. 

And Lex Luthor is drinking what appears to be a neon purple protein shake out of a rocks glass while sitting at a neatly-arranged desk in the center of the sunroom lab, looking idly bored and scrolling through whatever’s on his phone with his free hand. 

Alright then, Tim thinks carefully. 

“There you are, I was starting to wonder if I’d gotten al Ghul riled up for nothing,” Luthor says, barely glancing up from his tablet. 

“. . . which al Ghul,” Tim asks with wary dread. 

“All of them,” Luthor says, setting down his tablet to give him a pleasant smile. 

Well, now Tim knows why nobody’s dropped in a skylight to rescue them yet. And also why half of Gotham is currently on fire. 

“Uh,” Steph says, glancing around the sunroom lab. “So like, lead-lined glass in here, then, or . . . ?” 

“We’re in Connecticut, so no,” Luthor replies dismissively. “Anyway, the Boy Scout always gets suspicious of too much lead in one place. Which I personally find darling, since anyone in Metropolis without at least a lead-lined and soundproofed bedroom is essentially asking for Kryptonian voyeurs, whether intentionally or not on said Kryptonians’ parts. Also, privacy laws exist for a reason. As do patents, copyrights, attorney-client privilege, HIPAA . . .” 

“Connecticut?” Steph repeats incredulously. “What the frick is in Connecticut?” 

“Currently, us,” Luthor replies matter-of-factly. “Hope, Mercy, do me a favor and go check the security systems manually, just in case any invasive species of vermin have gotten into them. Also, yes, there is kryptonite, and no, there is actually much more than you’re theorizing.” 

“You have literally no idea how much kryptonite we’re theorizing,” Steph says as the bodyguards both leave with an affirming nod. Luthor gives her a pitying look, then turns his chair a few degrees towards Tim. Tim immediately expects the inevitable threat or ultimatum, and braces himself for–

“I’d apologize for all the fuss, but I don’t actually care about inconveniencing you and don’t see the point in pretending I ever would,” Luthor informs him. Tim stares blankly at him again. What is even happening right now? “Now then, what are your intentions in regards to ‘Supernova’, as I hear someone’s started calling himself now. ‘Themself’? I’m not sure if ‘Supernova’ is meant to be gender-affirming or more a ‘too old to stick with ‘Superboy’ but there are already three ‘Supermen’ active and the whole, you know, general stubborn individualism they’re so fond of. Or ‘he’s’ so fond of. Whichever."

Tim stares at him. 

“Is this supposed to be a trap for Supernova or a shovel talk for me?” he asks, because a) he’s not telling Lex Luthor anything about Kon’s gender or personal choices that Kon hasn’t publicly stated, and b) only Lex Luthor would actually kidnap two active vigilantes in the middle of a crisis he’d apparently pre-arranged to give a–well, no, Bruce would also do that, definitely. But this is not a Batman talk, either way. 

Batman’s “talks” all involve tests, for one thing, so actually so far this is an improvement. 

“It’s an engagement present,” Luthor says pleasantly. 

Tim’s brain crashes, then does the slowest reboot of his life. He’s recovered from concussions faster, he’s pretty sure. 

“They’re . . . not engaged, though?” Steph says skeptically. “Or, like, even dating?” 

“Red Robin’s commitment issues are his own problem, not mine. I’ve got a schedule to keep,” Luthor replies dismissively.

[rememberwren]

I finally wrote for Gaz <3 Quick little blurb about BFF!Kyle / fem! reader. You ask Kyle to practice sucking dick. You know. On him. Ft. a rather subby Kyle Gaz Garrick. Part 2 here.

-

The first thing Kyle does after you ask to practice sucking his cock is—

—jerk off. I mean, he agrees. He showers, even though he had showered earlier that day. But in the shower, he jerks off because he knows that if he doesn’t, he’ll be spilling himself into your mouth straight away. It’s hardly the learning experience he wants to give you.  

Erection sated, what he doesn’t do is think about the why. He doesn’t think about the next person, the one you might be trying to learn these skills for. That way only leads to pain, and he’s not interested in the angst tonight, not when he’s got this opportunity in front of him packaged up neater than a gift at Christmas. 

You sit on your heels while he sits on the edge of the bed, naked. For cumming only ten minutes ago, he’s having no problem getting hard, not with the way you look at his cock: a little dumbfounded, a little curious, a little scared, a little excited. 

“It doesn’t bite. At least it didn’t the last time I checked,” he teases. He doesn’t admit that it was only ten minutes ago. “You can touch it if you want. Just stop whenever you want to stop, yeah?” 

Comforted, you reach out and stroke your fingertips along the velvety length of his cock. You trace around the foreskin, down the shaft, even brave enough to gently cradle his balls in your palm.

Kyle loves it—loves turning himself into a statue beneath your touch, loves existing only for your innocent exploration. He murmurs soft words of encouragement beneath his breath, watching as your confidence blossoms like a flower beneath rain. Until you feel bold enough to lean forward and place a chaste little kiss on the head. 

His cock jerks, a quiet moan pulled from his throat at the softness of your mouth. You pull back, laughing a little at the unexpected movement of his cock. You’re moving plenty yourself though: can’t seem to sit still, shifting from one side to the other. Anything to get a little pressure on your pussy. 

“Are you already wet?” Kyle asks. “Just from kissing my cock?”

You laugh again, embarrassed, and cover your face with your hands. Kyle reaches out to peel them away, eager to see your every minute expression. It’s important that he does, he tells himself, so that he can tell if you’re uncomfortable. It has nothing to do with enjoying the way your mouth drops open a little when you stare too long, the way your eyes get heavy-lidded when you breathe in the clean scent of him and his shower gel.

“First lesson,” he says, guiding your wrists back down to your sides. “Anyone ever asks you to suck their dick and you don’t want to, say no. If they insist, kick them right in the balls.” 

“I already knew that,” you huff, rolling your eyes at him. 

“Second lesson: don’t bite it off. That’s the end of the lessons, really. Take it from somebody with a dick, we’re just grateful it’s in your mouth. As long as we get it back in one piece, we can’t really complain about whatever you do to it.” 

Your laughter goes a long way to relaxing that last anxious part inside his chest, the one that is worried he has somehow pressured you into this (despite your insistence that this was what you wanted; that Kyle was the only man in your life you felt safe enough to explore with). When you put your hands on his thighs to brace yourself, kneeling up, he laces your fingers together with his own, smoothing the calloused pad of his thumb across your knuckle. 

“Go at your pace. You’re in charge unless you decide otherwise,” he says, watching as your mouth comes closer to his aching length. Your eyes flicker up to him, the picture you make of pure pornography as you kneel between his thighs like a sinner, holding onto his hands like a saint. 

You place open-mouthed kisses along his length, tasting him, working your way up and down his cock. It’s a test of his restraint to keep still and quiet and let you explore like this, when all he wants is your lips wrapped around him. A bead of precum wells at the slit of his cock and he watches your eyes find it, fingers wiggling free of his own so that you can reach out and drag the pad of one finger through the pearly seed. Your eyes find his, a hint of caution there, like you aren’t sure if you’re about to do something bad—but whatever you see in his face (likely something far too honest, far too open and worshipful)---settles your anxieties. You slip the finger into your mouth and suck it clean, nose wrinkling a little at the taste. 

“You don’t have to do that,” he says, breathless. “You don’t have to finish me at all, okay?” 

You roll your eyes again. “Gaz. Stop talking.” 

“Shut me up,” he challenges, holding out his hands as if to say, Be my guest. 

You take a deep breath, shoulders squaring. Your mouth opens and then the head of his cock rests against the warm wetness of your tongue. Whose eyes shut first? He couldn’t say. Your mouth closes around him, sucking softly on just the tip as your fingers come to wrap around the base, thumb stroke along the underside. Kyle mutters a curse, sucking in a breath and holding it until his lungs burn. Fuck, your mouth is like liquid heat, the little suckling motions of your tongue soft and sweet as you test out different intensities and pressures. You lean forward, taking more of him past your lips, and he lets out a long, low groan. 

He forces his eyes open, suddenly aware that he is missing it. You’re here, on your knees, sucking his cock like the best girl, and he’s missing it. You’re already watching him, a smile visible at the corners of your eyes. You take him into your mouth until his head nudges at the back of your throat where it turns soft. You gag a little, and he curses again, a sound which has you shifting against your heels. 

You set a hesitant rhythm, head bobbing. It takes you time to coordinate your hand and your mouth, but once you do, it tears a whine from his throat. You keep yourself comfortable, only taking him in to the back of your mouth, but he has no complaints, his belly tight with pleasure, breaths coming shallow and fast. 

“That’s it,” he breathes, reaching out to cup your jaw in his hand, thumb smoothing along the hollow of your cheek as you suck. “So good. Doing it just right, aren’t you?” 

You make a little needy sound, shifting on your heels again. 

“Wet, pretty girl?” he wonders. “You can’t sit still. Is this turning you on?” 

You nod, his cock in your mouth. 

“Show me,” he says, half-delirious with need. “Touch yourself and show me.” 

You remove the hand from the base of his cock and slip it down the front of your leggings. When you pull it free and hold it up to the light, your first two fingers are wet, a line of slick connecting them thin as spidersilk until it breaks while he watches. 

“Fuck,” he breathes. Part of him wants to leave you in pain, desperate for relief, to watch you squirm between his legs like you’re kneeling on hot coals. The other part of him wants to feel the vibration of your moans around his cock, and that is the part which wins. He’s always considered himself a generous guy. “Touch yourself—’s only fair. You’re making me feel so good.” 

You get clumsy once your hand is between your legs. Your other hand holds the base of his cock steady, but he can tell you lose focus on him, the slick sounds of your fingers rubbing against your clit just audible. Sometimes your mouth goes loose and lax around him, tongue aimless. Kyle groans, hips jerking a little deeper into the softness of your mouth, desperate for anything you give him. You’re the one on your knees, but you’re so far in control that it’s almost laughable. 

“Don’t stop,” he whispers, stroking where your lips are split open around him, using the pad of his thumb to feel his cock through the softness of your cheek. “Please don’t stop, pretty girl, just—please—” 

You blink, coming back to yourself a little, and the suction around his cock tightens to a point somewhere between bliss and pain. Though your efforts have been clumsy and the lesson has gone properly off the rails, he can feel his balls drawing up tight against his body, his cock throbbing against your tongue. 

“I’m close—pull off, baby,” he says. 

You stiffen, eyes going wide. He slips in too deep and you gag around him, a wet choke that shouldn’t turn him on as much as it does, your eyes slipping shut until your lashes rest on your cheeks, broken little whines filtering out around his cock as you cum on your fingers. 

It’s too much for him. He pulls out just in time, one hand cupped loosely around the head of his cock and the other stripping its length in short, quick strokes as he cums after you, teeth clenching, jaw tight around your name in his mouth. He fills his hand and some slips out between his fingers, dripping down onto your thighs below. 

“Holy shit,” he breathes. “Are you okay?” 

You nod, working your hand free from your leggings. You’re slick all over your palm. He wants to lick it clean. 

“I didn’t pay attention,” you blurt out. 

He stares. 

You continue: “Like, at all. I’m sorry, Kyle, I was so—I was distracted. But I think I’m better now. Can we…can we try again?” 

More cum drips from between his fingers. You squeal and stick your open hand beneath his to catch it before it can ruin your leggings more than they already are. After a lengthy silence, Kyle sighs. 

“Yeah, pretty girl, we can try again. Give me ten minutes.”

[lisired]

the devil’s cup

pairing: demon!haechan x (f) reader

genre/warnings: smut, oral (f receiving), demons/underworld, mentions of death and self-destruction, unprotected sex/breeding (don’t be silly, wrap your willy!), edging, very slight degradation

summary: In a world where humans and demons are separated by earth and the unknown, you’re curious about the creatures that most mortal beings are too frightened to investigate. More specifically if they can please you sexually. As they say, curiosity killed the cat.

wc: 6.8k (this is the shortest fic I’ve done in a minute)

a/n: quick (and short) write! as always, feedback is appreciated!

There was a bit of division between the upper and underworld. 

That said, that never prevented the interaction of humans and infernal spirits. It only limited them, though even with said inhibitions in place, forbidding could only go so far within mortal control. 

Not everyone was god-fearing. Least of all demons. 

Though you weren’t exactly fearless, you were curious to a fault. Human knowledge of the underworld was limited. You lived in a world where plenty of supernatural beings - werewolves, faes, vampires and the like - coexisted in an integrated society, but demons lived in an unexplored world of their own.

Which, obviously, was the underworld. 

The church insisted it was for your own sake. You had practically never mentioned your intrigue to anyone, though that was chiefly because you were terrified to. The pastors were passionate in their sermons, deeming anyone who played with the devil a sinner beyond redemption and a betrayer of faith. You knew you’d be thrown scornful glances in an instant. 

You weren’t the only curious one. There were plenty groups of people who conjectured about the underworld and its occupants. Which was not an option for you for many reasons. First of all, they teetered on extremism. Second, you would undoubtedly be banished from society for so much as breathing near them. 

Your only option was your friend. Who happened to be supernatural himself. 

Ten laughed. “Let me get this straight. You want to fuck around with the devil?” 

You frowned. Though you definitely preferred the ridicule over the comtempt. He, however, wasn’t exactly in the place to mock you. “Come on, Ten. Didn’t you call on a succubus?” 

“Correction - you want to fuck the devil.” 

“Ten,” you whined. 

Ten shook his head. This was hilarious, because you were completely serious. It was also somewhat worrying. Most humans that had toyed with the devil for too long never survived. “Babe, I’m a vampire. Have been for sixty-two years. I’m technically in my eighties. You, sweetheart, are a human. Incubi can kill mortals like you.”

No wonder he tended to act like a cranky grandpa. You folded your arms stubbornly. 

The truth was that you were searching for a way to spice up your sex life and strangely enough, a demon sounded like exactly what you needed. You were desperate at this point. The men earth had provided for you were useless. You could count on both hands how many times you had given them a try and were ultimately unsatisfied. You were out of options. 

“One time won’t hurt, right?” you asked, batting your lashes. “Please, Ten. I just want to try. I can only die if I do it continuously.” 

Ten blew out a sigh. “Woman, you’re insane.” 

You whined, “Pretty please? I’ll literally buy you those Starbucks drinks you like everyday for a month. I need this.”

Ten mulled the offer over. On one hand, this was not only dangerous, but deadly. There was a chance that he could risk losing you in the process. But on the other, you were a responsible adult woman. It wasn’t like you would be selling your soul. You’d simply be testing the waters. “Fine. I’ll help you, but you better only do this shit once. I’ve had to bury a friend before. I don’t wanna go through that hell again.”

You lept up excitedly and cheered, “Thank you, thank you, thank you! I love you so much.”

“Whatever,” Ten said, rolling his eyes. “I’ll be back later with the stuff. And I’m taking it back after tonight.” 

Frankly, you couldn’t care less. You knew your best friend was only trying to protect you, and you genuinely didn’t intend on disobeying. You were curious, not stupid. Nor did you have a death wish. 

Ten reappeared later that night with the materials necessary to summon a demon. Technically, you could have done it without them, but that would’ve been a much more ineffective, chance-based approach. It also most likely would have taken way longer. According to Ten, the board had a ninety-percent success rate. 

He had told you, “Unless you’re like, extremely unfuckable, it’ll work for sure.”

You snorted. 

That was how you met Haechan. 

Black smoke rose from the ground, wavering murkily with a ghastly noise until it dwindled fainter and fainter. You took a step or two back, holding your breath with curious fear as you waited for the mist to clear. 

Once it did, the handsomest man you had ever seen materialized before you.

You audibly gasped. Frankly, you weren’t sure what you were expecting, but it wasn’t this. His dark hair was slicked back, forehead exposed to the breeze that temporarily coursed through your home, and he was tan-skinned. Like the heat of hell had graced his body. 

His pretty lips curled into the utmost smuggest grin. “Aren’t I lucky? I could feel that you would be gorgeous.” 

“You could feel it?” you repeated dumbly. In your defense, you were stunned. 

The average idea of a demon was a grotesque blood-hungry monster and needless to say, this nameless boy didn’t fit the bill. Part of you was half certain that Ten was pranking you, firm in his decision that it was foolish for a human to engage with a demon. He seemed like a regular, everyday being. Except maybe not. Most men weren’t this beautiful. And his presence was inexplicably strong.

Haechan scoffed, “Yeah? How else do you think I got here? I could feel your energy. It was calling me.” 

The room reeled. The air felt different, thicker. Your body lighter. There was an air of danger to this boy with a trace of something else that you were equally drawn to. 

Energy. Was it possible that you could feel his energy too? 

Given you were in a state of mental narcosis, more or less the effect of his aura, Haechan gleaned you wouldn’t respond and instead approached you. It felt like you were jolted awake when his warm skin pressed to yours, his lips and breath ticking your neck. 

“Haechan,” the demon whispered, but it felt like the thrumming of the wind. “That’s the name I want you to say tonight.”

Heat wafted over you. You nodded, because you couldn’t say another word. As if an invisible hand was clasped around your throat. 

Haechan coiled an arm around your waist, forcing your back flush against his chest. “Tell me what you want,” he purred. Your thighs were bare and he snagged the opportunity to grope them, free hand leisurely rising higher. For now, they landed squarely at your ass. “So I can help you.”

You swallowed hard. Part of you was afraid, but the other was enticed by the danger. It always had been. Your voice lacked complete confidence. “I… wanted something new. The men here aren’t adequate. I needed something else.” 

“Oh?” Haechan cocked a brow and snickered. “Don’t worry about that tonight, baby. I’ll make you forget about everyone except me.” 

For a while, you had been at war with yourself, dithering between your options. But Haechan had tempted you. Whatever fight you had abandoned you as he brought you to your bed. 

Every alarm in your body was ringing, sirening to you that danger was near at hand, but the soft lulling of his voice abated your panic. The horns were blown, but you were too far gone to hear them. 

Haechan lay you at your backside and you swayed like a leaf, throat parched dry when you glimpsed into his eyes. They were red with lust, dark as blood. “Don’t look so scared,” he reproached, but it was of little substance given the smidgen of a smirk you’d seen on his lips. 

You were still tongue tied and at a loss for breath, never mind words. 

Haechan’s touch wasn’t gentle in the slightest as he came to tear your clothes away, shredding them layer by layer. His fingers skimmed against your body and your skin scorched where he touched you. 

Admittedly, it was somewhat true that you were frightened, but this was exactly what you needed to fill the empty chasm of excitement in your sex life. Between thrill and fear, the feeling that coursed through your veins was indistinguishable. 

You had cycled through mortals and been left unimpressed each time. There was bad, and then there was decent. You wanted neither. You wanted someone to go above and beyond. They tended to do only enough to barely get you there. If even. You’d seen it all; you wanted mind-blowing.

You shivered at the cool sensation of the air against naked skin, but it was immediately negated by Haechan’s body heat. Still, it wasn’t enough. You whimpered, “Touch me.” 

“Eager, aren’t we?” Haechan snickered. “Say please.”

You didn’t hesitate. “Please. I need you to touch me.” 

Satisfied, Haechan snatched your panties with a final tear and skirted a hand between your thighs. They were already open and parted, welcoming him keenly. 

It was only when you felt his slender fingers scissoring between your thighs did you notice how wet you were. The thought alone had been arousing. The sight of him even more. It was the weaving of those individual factors that had you gathering in his palms like water. 

Haechan shook his head with mirth. “Something tells me that you don’t get wet like this too often. Do you, baby?”

The answer to that was so embarrassingly obvious that you wanted to shrink until nothing remained of you. Your cheeks stung. “No. Not really.” The more you thought about it, you couldn’t remember the last time you had been so aroused. 

If ever. 

“Aren’t you a little sinner,” Haechan said and chuckled to himself. Needless to say, he was amused. A pretty girl like you that could most likely have any guy she wanted calling on a demon because the men on earth can’t satisfy her? He was delighted. And almost humiliated on their behalf.

Like the cruel demon he was, he added, “It’s a little pathetic, don’t you think? Getting wet for me when you could easily find a human to fuck.” 

You whined, but ironically pulsed around his fingers. Those words were as true as they were humiliating. His fingers coaxed into you with a loud, wet squelch. 

Haechan eyed you with the intensity of a ravening werewolf. The likes of you were familiar - pretty girls that were too curious for their own good and went looking into entities where they had no business for pleasure. Never would you be the first or last, though regardless he had a job that he was more than glad to fulfill. 

Pleasure played out on your face. That said, you wanted more. You had always considered that maybe you were the problem. Maybe you were the one at fault because you were too greedy, too insatiable. Enough was a word of little subtance to you. 

But you noticed a sort of stark divergence here. With your previous conquests, you were unsatisfied because they took pleasuring you as if it were drudgery. This was more or less a job for Haechan, yet in spite of that, he seemed enlivened. 

Boys came a dime a dozen. Pleasure like this? It was a luxury far beyond your worth. 

“Fuck me,” you whispered. You were even willing to beg, if that was what it took. 

“Mm, no. Not yet,” Haechan said, having a good chuckle at the look of incredulity on your face at your expense. 

Never had you ever been turned down. It was always you that turned people away. Men that were bound to be disappointments in the sack lined up for you. They never hesitated to take advantage of your desperation. 

Haechan curled his fingers, sending every wall of the room reeling. Your pupils dilated when he leaned in, firmly holding your jaw to make you meet his stare. “Human boys don't build you up, do they? They just take what they want and leave. I'm going to take my time with you, baby.”

You doubted anyone had ever uttered anything like that to you before. 

His grip slackened. Not many words needed to be exchanged, the two of you content with the sounds of your soft moans and wet cunt filling the air. 

The glimmer of mischief on Haechan’s face turned pensive. “Can’t decide how I want to fuck you. What about you, pretty thing - how do you want to be fucked?”

You felt your cheeks warm in response to his question, though you had a contemplative answer. Any additional eye contact would have landed you in an early grave, but you wanted him to take control. Too many times had you had to take the lead because you chased your own pleasure. You were in dire need of relaxation. 

And if you were being honest, you'd let him have you any which way. 

“From behind,” you replied, clinging to the pretense of indifference. 

The mischief returned at the speed of light and Haechan taunted, “Scared to look me in the eyes?” 

You blurted, “Can you read my mind?”

“Yes.”

Every functioning gear within you halted and your body slammed on the brakes. Made worse by the serious look on his face. 

Then, Haechan erupted with laughter. “Sike.” You were relieved, though not amused. “I’m just fucking with you. I’m not psychic.” 

As if to apologize for the massive scare he’d only just now given you, Haechan swept in and pressed a brief yet unnaturally hypnotic kiss to your lips.

You felt like you could die at any given moment, but strangely enough, you liked it. 

It was game over when he interposed another finger between your walls, tall and slender. You were plagued by so many emotions all at once that you hardly realized how close you'd gotten in no time at all. Time expedited, but the minutes ticked slower.

You grabbed Haechan’s wrist, fighting for control of his movements, though not that he needed much guidance. It was an act of bad habit, you supposed, but Haechan smirked and let you do as you pleased. For now. 

“Haechan,” you whimpered, reminded of the name you were instructed to say. 

The man in question eyed you with a lustful awe. It was the first time you’d said his name and brother, was it a delightful noise. He hummed, “Close?”

You bobbed your head. No words needed to be said. The way your entire body responded to his touch as if it was owned by him was enough of an indication. 

In a mere instant, you felt empty and desolate, warmth fading into crisp ice without warning. You whimpered, turning to look at the culprit, but met with only a smug smile. 

No way in hell had this demon just edged you. 

Haechan beat you to a word and explained, “I want you to cum on my dick. Is that alright, princess?”

“Please, hurry,” was your desperate response. You had no protest. You simply needed to feel him as soon as possible. 

Haechan had a nice laugh at the sight of you trying to find his hands anew and fuck yourself against them, but retrieved them, bringing his fingers that were coated in your slick to his mouth and sucking them clean. Ironically, you tasted like heaven. 

You moaned when Haechan kissed you, his saliva palliative to the ache of the wait and wanting. It took your mind off of the throbbing between your sensitive thighs while he shredded what remained of his clothes. You were so wrapped in his dark magic, a pawn in his devilish game, but you didn’t care. He could destroy you until you were no longer flesh and bones and you'd say, “Thank you.” 

Haechan was ready with burning lust and he growled, “Hands and knees.” 

You didn’t hesitate to scramble into position, as if he'd punish you for wasting a second of time. Every voice in your mind was subdued and you only listened to the thudding sound of your racing pulse. It screamed even louder the closer Haechan’s body came into yours. 

A gasp tore out of you the moment you noticed his cock stretching you open, ceasing the long wait. It was accompanied by another hushed growl, Haechan’s hands finding purchase at your hips. He filled you nice and slow, the pace so agonizing that you were tempted to believe he was testing you for the sake of toying with you. 

“Don’t tease. Please,” you begged. “I want you to fuck me - hard.” 

Haechan cocked a brow, but made no protest. “Whatever my pretty girl wants.” 

You fought for breath when every inch was encased between your warm and wet walls, pulsing around his thick cock. Haechan penetrated you with a hiss at how you swathed around him so tightly. 

Your body came alive at the touch of the undead, responding to his body with voracity. Haechan had no intention of restraining himself, ramming his hips into yours vigorously. He set a brutal pace, enough to sate you and your unnatural urges. For now. Your flesh scorched with fever, broiling under his fingertips yet craving more of him, more of the singe. You were indescribably elated. 

Haechan seized you to a bruising extent and braced his teeth into your shoulder, effectively smothering a noise. You let out a cry of pain and pleasure, warped together to create some inexplicable sensation.

“So goddamn tight,” Haechan hissed, giving your ass a smack or three. Every thwack sent you clamping even tighter. “You like it rough?”

Between a thread of moans, you whimpered, “Yes.” But the way he drove his cock into you - hurried and ruthless - bundled your head into the mattress, your cries smothered by the pillows.

Haechan latched onto your hair, letting out a hollow, breathy laugh when you moaned. You were so eager to take him, never shying away from his actions.  

It was paranormal, like nothing you had ever felt before. You'd yet to discern the invisible shroud of mist that billowed in the air, the spine-chilling gale that swept over you and chaperoned his presence, but you loved it. It kept you on your toes and made you hold your breath. Something to this extent felt forbidden, like you were getting a taste of pleasure beyond human capacity. It was an ethereal and otherworldly type of pleasure.

You felt so light that you could topple over from one breath. 

Haechan’s eyes lingered on the way your whole body tremored at the impact of his thrusts, your ass meeting his cock with a slap and your breasts bouncing underneath you. Your body was gradually beginning to be coated in bruises and scratches, remnants of him that would linger even after he was long gone. 

You loved that he was rough, loved that he fucked you like there was no tomorrow without overdoing it. He only had one night to give you the best dick of your life and was successful so near in. 

Many had tried, but many had failed to fuck you like this. You knew you would be sad to see him go. 

“Oh my god,” you cried, your voice given an outfall for speech courtesy of the way Haechan lifted your head by your hair. You were melting into abyss. 

Haechan tugged at it a little rougher and demanded, “Tell me you love this.” 

“I love it. I love it so much,” you babbled. Your thoughts were revoked. Your body was on fire. You knew one thing and it was the feeling that lit you off and riled you up. 

The demon boy smiled. He wasn’t psychic, but he knew how you felt without saying. It was in how your body responsed to his, submitting to his every move. Your body betrayed you, presenting all of your emotions on a silver platter. 

Haechan discerned you were near your climax and leaned closer, teeth grazing over your shoulder when he growled, “You’re close.”

It wasn’t a question; you were close. That much was obvious. You could only bob your head, blabbering more hardly coherent sentences that he found amusing. 

You fisted the pillows and sheets for dear life, clinging to whatever you possibly could to anchor yourself. You felt like you had been put together solely to be destroyed afresh. As if his intention was to shatter you piece by piece. 

In that case, he was doing a damn good job. 

If possible, Haechan’s pace became even more merciless. “Let go,” he coaxed surprisingly gently, strumming you to climax with his fingers at your clit. Your body one-hundred percent intended to obey him, unable to defy its urges. 

You screamed with orgasm, burying your face into the pillows to smother your cries of pleasure. Tears welled in your eyes, rivulets trickling down your cheeks. Your body felt whole and empty all at once, overcome by an overwhelming sense of relief. Even after you came, you were still pulsing around his cock, eager to get him there. 

“Cum,” you begged, still waiting for him. “Please?” 

The desperacy in your voice practically finished Haechan then and there, and he grunted, “Fuck.” There was no way he could tell a pretty thing like you, “No.” 

Haechan found a bruising grip on your ass to anchor himself and his cock twitched with release inside you, his mouth parting with a series of moans and growls. You whimpered when he filled you, painting your walls with warm cum. Only then did your spent body slacken, collapsing exhaustedly against the sheets. 

Haechan flipped you on your back and kissed the corner of your lips. There was something abnormally soporific about the way he tasted, because your eyelids began to weigh more than your body altogether. 

“That’s it, baby. Go to sleep,” Haechan whispered, lulling you to sleep with his gentle voice. 

There was nothing to fight. Your body lost all strength when you climaxed, and you succumbed to sleep in a matter of mere seconds.

“Atta girl,” was the last thing you heard before pitch black darkness bled into your vision. 

When you roused from your sheets in the morning, Haechan was - as expected - no longer there, but traces of last night remained. Your bed was a mess, but you were in shambles, hair tangled on your bed and your body stained with tears, scratches and bruises.

Humorously, though somewhat questionably, only none of his semen was there. You wondered if demons could get humans pregnant. 

You were elated, but somewhat disappointed. From the beginning, you were aware that you couldn’t see him again, but after last night, you were desperate. There was no way in hell he could show you a good time to simply never see you again. It was unfair. 

The sound of your front door being pounded mercilessly startled you and you jumped out of bed, scrambling to cover your bare body and then rushed to the door.

When you opened the front door, Ten awaited you on the other side.

“You look like hell,” commented Ten offhandedly. You were always in wonder at how vampires could roam in the daylight, but allegedly, it was courtesy of potions and spell work. 

“I had a long night,” you deadpanned. 

Ten chortled and stepped inside. “I’m sure.”

You shut the door behind the pair of you and led him to your bedroom where your sheets were a disheveled mess on your bed. Last night had left the board on the floor to be forgotten. 

Disinterestedly, you plopped on your bed. There was a question billowing like fog in your brain and you feigned your most indifferent tone when you asked, “Will he want to come back?”

Ten thought nothing of your question and shrugged, leaning over to pick up the materials you'd abandoned. “Depends. Demons know these… arrangements get messy. Some care, some like messy. It's not rare. Just in case, I’ll have a witch friend of mine fix a spell to ward evil spirits off.”

“Oh,” you replied, playing innocent. But that wasn’t what you wanted. You dwelled over last night and the thought of Haechan coming back for seconds. You weren’t special, that you knew. Demons of his kind has a nonselect variety to choose from, but you knew only he could pleasure you like that again. 

Like he was catching on, Ten added, “It’s not a good idea to give him a chance to get attached. Some demons are bitter and possessive. The moment they want you to be theirs, they’ll hurt you and anyone else who gets in their way in response to a perceived betrayal.”

His warning spooked you, but not by much. You assured Ten that you understood and would leave that night behind you. After all, with all the measures taken, it was out of your hands. 

One night became several. 

In your defense, you weren’t the one that summoned him. It was because of your energy. He always claimed he could feel you. You frequently laid brooding in your home, yearning for him to return. 

And then, he appeared. You knew when Haechan was there and when he wasn't. It was his presence. You could feel it in your chest. You couldn’t explain it, but whenever he was in range, a gust of cool air would sweep over your shoulders and a thick gale would strike your lungs, rendering you breathless. 

Haechan materialized in that same shroud of mist, snickering to himself when your startled figure trembled. 

You gawked when you saw him in full glory. “How the hell…” 

“Your friend isn’t the only one who knows a sorcerer,” Haechan grinned smugly. “I felt your yearning - did you miss me?” 

Oh, did you. You had spent the past couple of weeks trying to get yourself off the way that he had, but to no avail. There was only one remedy for you and you were forbidden to have him. 

“A little,” you admitted. Though you had a feeling he could see right through you, it was a lot easier to say compared to admitting you thought of how his hands felt on your body every time you touched yourself. 

“I think you missed me a lot,” Haechan teased, stepping closer. Meanwhile, you were riveted in place, unable to move. You gasped when his hands browsed up your dress, targeting your damp panties. “Are you saying this isn’t for me?” 

You tensed and whined, “Haechan.”

Haechan gave you a smile, the same devilish one he always wore. He slipped your panties to the side and brushed his slender fingers against your dampening cunt. “Tell me you missed me.” 

“I missed you. I missed you a lot,” you confessed without hesitation. “I… I’ve been thinking about you all day.” 

He cocked a brow and crammed a pair of fingers inside you. “Yeah? You been thinking about me fucking that tight little pussy?”

Your knees were bucking. You needed him more than you’d ever needed anything before in your life. “Please,” you cried. “Please, please…” 

The demon silenced you with a kiss that made you feel so light, you almost tipped over. He caught you in his arms and carried you to your bedroom. 

When you were finished, Haechan fell heaving at your side and groaned, “You’re always so goddamn tight.”

You giggled. “You love me.” 

Like you had said some forbidden word, Haechan switched on a dime and gave you a fair warning. “That’s the snag, baby girl. I can’t love you.”

That you knew, but it stung to hear aloud. You were by no means in love with the demon you'd only fucked on two occasions, but hell, he seemed like the best option. There was a bit of venom in your tone when you responded, “But you fuck me.”

“Yes. Because that’s what I do. I have sex with you needy little humans and drain you to death of your energy. Then the next one comes along and the cycle repeats. I can’t love you because you’re going to die some day, babe. Even sooner the longer you mess around with me.” 

You blinked. He was a hell of a lot more forthright than you expected. Haechan was going to fuck you within an inch of your life. Literally. 

That was how the cycle began. Haechan informed you of a simpler way to summon him and he began to visit you more often, stealing your nights away. You never mentioned him to anyone. If Haechan didn’t kill you in time, Ten would undoubtedly burn you alive. 

You loved spending nights with Haechan, and over time, those moments together bled into days and mornings. More often than not, you would talk the day away, discussing everything under the sun and moon. 

Six years ago. Those events culminated in this later two-part dilemma you’d brought upon yourself. 

Weeks turned into months. You were growing weaker. The venom was slowly killing you, contaminating your blood far beyond human reclaim. 

Additionally, everything the two of you had said about loving each other had gone terribly south. The more you got to know Haechan, the deeper you fell. And watching you fall drastically ill under his influence tore an unfamiliar feeling from his cold heart - fear. Losing you cooled his already icy blood. 

Haechan heaved a breath, trying to remain calm. The two of you knew that this would happened, but goddamn, he would have never predicted that he of all people would fall in love. It was almost laughable. “I can immortalize you, but there’s a catch.”

You eyed him expectantly. “Like what?” 

“You’ll watch the people you love die,” Haechan said morosely. “Your entire life will fade with your mortality.”

You frowned. That was a given, but you loathed the thought of that day. No matter how far in the future it may have been. There were always immortal beings to befriend at your disposal, but the current mortal ones - your family - would pass on without you. 

But even more, you loathed the thought of them having to bury you. You would take the pain in sacrifice if it meant they never had to feel the empty ache of lost. 

“Okay.” 

Haechan shot you a look. “Okay, as in what?” 

With shaky hands, you blew out a breath and told him, “I’ll do it.” 

Haechan interlaced your fingers between his and pulled you close. The last thing he wanted was to lose you, but he also wanted you to do this completely out of your own free will. “Are you sure? This isn’t some reversible shit. No take backs.” 

“I would rather bury my family than have them bury me,” you whispered fiercely. It was all you had the strength to do. “I made this mess, now I have to fix it. I can’t let them be miserable over a stupid mistake I made. I won’t.” 

Instead of recoiling from your slight outburst, Haechan held you even firmer. It was a sensitive spot for the both of you. There were available alternatives, none long-term. This was by far your safest option. 

Death was not an option. 

“If this is what you want,” Haechan said, like he was giving you one final chance to reconsider your choices. But you were firm in your decision. This was the price that you had to pay. “Everything will be okay. Baby, I swear.” 

God, you wanted to believe him with everything you had, but you were terrified. For as long as you'd known him, Haechan had always been more calm and self-controlled than you ever were, but even now you could see cracks in his demeanor. He wanted to be strong for the both of you, knowing you would shatter the moment he did, but this had him rending at threat of rupture. 

Haechan lowered himself to your height to be eye-level with you and asked, “Can you get dressed?” 

You bobbed your head. You weren’t completely deprived of your vigor. Not yet, although you had been passing through the days on preservation potions and the like. They could sustain you temporarily, but not for very long. 

The demon boy you loved brought you to a secluded area in the woods, timing your errand perfectly. Before dusk was preferable. Evil creatures lurked in the wilderness, preying on vulnerable humans like you. Not all were fond of humans and vice versa.

And you were already ailing. 

There was a tiny cabin across a river, lying at its bank. According to Haechan, it was home of a wizard. 

“Your friend’s a wizard?” you had asked. 

Haechan nodded. “Basically. But Mark prefers being called a warlock. Apparently, wizard is an offensive term that’s only used in fairytales. I still call him Wiz, though.”

You gave him a tiny nod. Many if not most magical beings lived in areas isolated from humanity. There was long, unaccounted for history between the two races and you couldn’t blame them for any resentment. 

But it also presented the fair chance that he wouldn’t want to help you. 

Haechan opened the door to the cabin and you treaded behind him like he was safeguarding you. There was a man behind a cauldron that billowed with green smoke. 

You took a glance around. The cabin was dim, sunlight filtering through the blinds of a single window upstairs. Candles and lanterns burned, scattered elsewhere. The warlock spared you not a glance, engrossed in his brewing, though you noticed a crystal ball on the table, reflecting a perfect view that overlooked the bridge. 

It most likely had warned him someone was approaching. 

Haechan put on his cheesiest smile and greeted, “Sup, Wiz. Been working out lately?” 

Mark slammed on the brakes and bristled. “Hell no. Whatever you want - the answer is no.”

Your demon boyfriend frowned, walking beside his friend to give a slight nudge to his side. “C’mon, bestie. I didn’t even ask for anything.”

Mark didn’t waste a second. “I know. And every time you compliment me, it’s only because you want something.” Then, the warlock shifted his gaze and seemed to finally notice you. “Who’s the chick - new piece?” 

Haechan rubbed his neck. “Yeah, about that…”

“Haechan, hell the fuck no,” Mark interjected as soon as he put the pieces together. “You know you have to talk to Johnny about that.” 

“See, that’s the thing. Johnny will kill me. And I’m technically already dead,” Haechan joked, trying to ease the mood. 

You swallowed like you could gorge all of your burdens with one gulp. Part of you was ready to accept that death was inevitable and tinkering with your fate was deadly. As a spirit from the underworld, maybe you could meet the boy you loved again, but you’d fade into a distant memory to everyone else you loved. 

Mark removed his spectacles and massaged his temple before he sighed. “Do you love her?” 

“Yes.” It was instant. He didn’t even need to consider it. That made you smile. 

“Like, for real?” Mark pressed. Like he was in disbelief. “I can’t waste time and casting energy on a pretty girl you just want to keep around for a little longer.”

Patience slowly dimming, Haechan snapped, “When have I ever cared if they lived or died, Mark?” 

You came to clutch his arm, and Haechan softened, switching on a dime. Much to Mark’s surprise. Even he couldn’t deny that you seemed to have an effect on Haechan - a grip that no else had. 

Haechan took a deep breath. “Look, my bad. But she’s special. I don’t know how it happened, it just did. And it would be easier to do a cord-cutting spell and toss her away, but I don’t want that. I want her.” 

A strained moment of silence passed before Mark finally groaned, “Fine.”

“So?”

“So, I’ll do the spell,” Mark said stubbornly. 

It felt like a weight was lifted from your chest and you could breathe easier when those words left his mouth. You watched Haechan’s face twist with relief, and he whirled you into his arms, hauling you with a supernatural strength that made you squeal and giggle. “Fuck. I forgot you’re not yourself,” he said and placed you back on the ground. 

You shook your head and smiled. Then, Haechan turned back to Mark with open arms and smirked. “Come here.”

Mark grimaced. “Absolutely not. I’m warning you. Come any closer and I’ll get Phantom.”

“Phantom?” you repeated, blinking. 

Mark whistled, and suddenly you heard a low caw fill the air. Then, you saw a creature fly from the single window at the speed of light and finally come to a rest at Mark’s shoulder. 

It was a raven. 

“My familiar,” Mark explained proudly. “Every warlock - and witchtress - has one.” 

Ignoring the way the raven - Phantom - was staring down your soul, you gave a quick nod and asked, “So, we’re really okay?”

“Yes. I’ll work on a spell for you as soon as possible,” Mark replied.

Haechan smiled and swept you into a kiss, then Phantom immediately began to caw as if she was trying to wake the dead. 

Haechan snickered and put his arms between you both. She was very prone to attacking. “Ladies, ladies. No need to fight. There’s enough Haechan to go around.” 

You snorted and rolled your eyes. But you were happy. You still had Haechan, and you always would. Nothing would come between you. Death or Phantom. 

Five years ago. 

Now, you were alive and well. And not only you, but someone else. 

After hours on your feet, you had never been more relieved to sit down. Ten eventually came to accompany you, having a good laugh at the weariness prominent on your face at your expense. 

“Tired?” he asked. 

“Try exhausted. I’m ready to drop,” you drawled. 

Ten laughed, then shook his head and smiled faintly. “Tell me how it’s been exactly four years and I still can’t believe I’m a godfather?” 

“Please,” you chortled. “They’re growing up so fast. I can’t keep up.” 

You had discovered the answer to a previous thought. Demons could get humans pregnant. As it turned out, you also had to confess to Ten that you’d been sleeping with Haechan for longer than he'd thought. After all, the evidence had been growing in your belly for nine months. 

Not one child, but two. 

Ten gave you a tiny nudge. “Haechan really did a number on you.” 

Through the corner of your eye, you could see him approaching and joked, “Speak of the devil.”

Haechan plopped down beside you, head in your lap, and said, “I’ve never had to work for anything in my life before those two.” 

You and Ten giggled. “Get off me, you big baby,” you said lightheartedly. “Who has them?” 

“Your mother,” Haechan replied, not budging like a boulder. 

Or so he thought. You were both caught off guard when your two four-year-old twins eagerly came running after you, refusing to give their mommy and daddy a break. 

Ten came to the rescue and leapt up, exclaiming, “Who wants cake?” 

As expected, your two tiny twins turned around as soon as they came, shouting, “Me!” Gratefully, you mouthed, “thank you” to Ten, who led the little army away to dessert. 

Haechan climbed into the seat beside you, and said, “We made this.”

“We did,” you replied, beaming. “And I love every part of it. I wouldn’t trade it for anything.”

“Me neither,” Haechan said, pressing a kiss to your lips. Now that the coast was clear, a mischievous smile crept onto his lips. “So, I was thinking that once we put the kids to bed, we could have our own little party upstairs.”

God, that sounded like heaven to you right now. “Say no more.”

Haechan snickered and lifted you into his lap. You rested your head against his lap comfortably. “I love you,” he whispered. 

“I love you, too,” you said, a smile tugging your lips.

Those three words summed up everything. There was so much you wanted to say. You wanted to tell him that you always wanted a family with him, that you wouldn’t have it any other way. That you knew in your heart that this was the way it was meant to be. But you settled for, I love you. And you settled because he already knew. 

“As much as we fuck, we should have expected twins.” 

Those words snapped you out of your train of thoughts and you stood to your feet. “Save it. We have a birthday party to celebrate.”

Haechan followed you, wrapping his arm around your waist. “Yes, ma’am. Mind if we go hit the dance floor in celebration?”

“Not at all,” you told him. 

And it was easily the most magical moment of your life being twirled around in Haechan’s arms, the rest of your little family soon coming to join you both.

[daisywrites101]

Dr. Robert Chase x GN!Reader

Request: hi!! hope you’re doing well :) i saw you were taking imagines for house requests… was wondering if you could do something with a gn!reader and chase. something fluffy and cute if possible, like chase realizing his feelings for his best friend (being reader) and him trying to figure out how to confess ^^ thank you! have a great day

A/N: I hope that this is what you wanted! I took your idea and just ran with it! I apologize that this took awhile to get out. Life has been crazy lately between school and just some personal things going on. Enjoy the story!

"You are so miserable." Foreman says out of nowhere. Chase looks over at him, clearly offended. "What are you talking about, Foreman?" Chase questions. "You clearly have feelings for L/N. Ever since they started here it's pretty obvious that you like her, and not just like a coworker type deal, and more than you liked Cameron, which says a lot." he says then looks down into the microscope.

Foreman wasn't wrong. Chase had hard feelings for you, when Cameron explained to Chase that their relationship wasn't passing friends with benefits, he moved on. Soon after that is when you started. Having a background in pediatrics and in pathology, House deemed you as necessary to his team. Chase and you had become close, becoming best friends quickly, and Chase falling for you even faster, and it became blatantly obvious to everyone around you that chase liked you, except for you, of course.

"I don't know what you are talking about. Y/N and I are simply friends, best friends even." Chase claims. "Whatever you say, Chase. But you're calling them by their first name, and not to mention that you care for them more than you did for Cameron when the two of you had the fling you had, makes it totally obvious to everyone around the two of you that you like them. I am surprised House has not said anything at this point." Foreman explains, and Chase knows that he is right. Chase has never cared for anyone like he cared for you. when he noticed that you were having on off day, he always would buy your favorite drink to help you feel better. He would spend time with you, both inside and outside of work. Whenever he got the chance he would pair up with you during cases, either sitting in with you while doing MRIs, or even just sitting in the lab running tests, just like Foreman and him were doing now. House allowed you to stay and monitor the patient, but he assigned Foreman and Chase to run the endless stream of labs. It made sense that you stay to monitor him, given your history in peds, but he wished that he was with you. You made him smile, no matter what you did. You made him feel warm inside, more than Cameron did when he was with her. He knew that he wanted to tell you how he was feeling, but he was not sure how.

"How would you suggest I go about telling them how I feel?" Chase asks Foreman. Foreman pulls away from his microscope, looking at Chase baffled. Chase keeps a straight face, letting Foreman know that he is serious. "Oh you're serious." Foreman states. "Um, yeah, I would like to think so." Chase adds. "Look, just plan something nice for them, or you can straight up just tell them." Foreman says to Chase, being blunt but also trying to give him some advice. Chase nods, thinking about what he could do. "Thanks Foreman." He says then goes back to running tests.

Over the next few days, the case ended and the patient ended up having a case of sarcoidosis, and they received treatment. You stand in front of the mirror in your apartment. Your shirt hanging loose on your shoulders, and the waist band of your sweats fitting loosely on your hips. You stand there wondering if you look okay, as Chase had invited you to his apartment for a movie night. This wasn't an uncommon occurrence, but you still felt a tad self-conscious. What if you were dressed too comfortably? Should you change into something that fits, rather than something that is a few sizes too big? The thoughts are in your head are interrupted by a knock at the door of your apartment. You look over your shoulder at the clock on your night stand and it read 7:30 pm. He was right on time as always. You look at yourself one last time in the mirror, fluff your hair to make it sit how you would like it to, turn the nearby light off and head to the door. you open it to see Chase standing there. When he sees your face, his lights up with a smile, causing your own smile to form on your face.

“You ready?” Chase simply asks, hair falling in his face when he tilts his head slightly. You simply nod and he moves to the side so you can leave your apartment. You step out and lock the door behind you after you close it. Chase walks you to his car, and he opens the door for you, you climb inside and get closes the door behind you. He walks over to the other side, climbs in the car himself, starts it, and then begins the drive to his place.

You arrived at Chase’s apartment and he walks through the door for you, so he is able to hold the door as you walk in. You slip your shoes off and walk into the living room. Your jaw drops when you see the sight in front of you. There is a large bowl filled with popcorn in the center of the coffee table in front of the large couch. There are also two glasses of wine, two more with water, and there are some of your favorite snacks on a platter. You walk further into the room and look around you in awe. There were fairy lights hung on the walls to make the lighting dimmer, and there were tons of pillows and blankets on the couch. You turn around and face Chase, and see him standing there with a bouquet of flowers. Chase was standing there sheepishly, looking extremely nervous, but happy all at the same time. He steps closer to you and holds out the flowers for you to take, which you do. "Y/N, I have wanted to tell you how I feel about you for a long time but could not find the way to do it.” Chase says then pauses for a moment. You’re so dumbfounded, and honestly can’t believe what you’re hearing. Robert Chase, the one who would tell you how he felt about Cameron, was now admitting that he loves you. “I put all of this together to show you just how I feel.” He comes over to you and takes your free hand in his. “I love you, Y/N. I have for a while now.” Chase finally finishes. You quickly press your lips to his, in a quick but gentle kiss, in which he reciprocates. You pull away with a smile. “I love you too, Robert.” You say and simply smile. “Now, how about we continue our plans for movie night?” You say with a smile.

For the rest of the night, you and Chase sit on his couch, the flowers he gave you lay on the table next to the now empty bowl of popcorn and glasses. The two of you are now asleep on the couch, your body curled into his while he has an arm around you protectively.

[livelaughlovesubs]

Hi hii for the prompt event can i request dressing childe/tartaglia in degrading outfit? 🙏🙏 take ur time and thankss ^^

Hiiii it’s been so long since I last saw Childes name in my inbox, hope this is to your liking :>

Dom!reader x sub!childe

Warning: feminisation, teasing, cross-dressing

Anniversary event

“Is.. this really my size?” His awkward laugh echoed from the changing rooms, alongside the flicker of the shoji screen. You reassured him by yelling back, “I’m sure of it, it’s supposed to be a little tight. Are you done? Then come out.” One look and anyone could tell you were getting impatient, tapping your finger on your knee, gaze wandering around the establishment to look for anything interesting.

Despite your clear orders, he still hesitated, this time his hand emerged from behind the rood divider. “Are we alone?” The ginger asked, still mysteriously hiding himself, an act that was very uncharacteristic for him. “Yes, we are still alone, just like ten minutes ago.” You groaned, rolling your eyes at his behaviour. “Haha… right.” Tartaglia answered meekly, running out of excuses to use. The atmosphere was so dry, and so uncomfortable.

This time he really shot himself in the knees. He challenged you to a bet, and instead of you meticulously analysing your chances, you immediately agreed. That should have been enough of a sign, you’d never take on a gamble so quickly except it isn’t one. As things have been planned from the beginning, he lost, and had to obey to whatever conditions you set for him. Great, absolutely fantastic.

But why did your request have to hurt his pride like that? He could barely stand straight without shaking with his knees, and now you want him to expose himself to you? Bloody hell, you were so cruel he could feel himself falling for you all over again.

“Ajax, you really are testing my patience. If you don’t come out now, I’ll-” suddenly he moved the paper wall to the side and walked over to you, sighing defeated, “alright alright, I’m here okay?” Your expression changed for a split second, something like shock grazed your features, before you composed yourself again. He tried to stand normal and unbothered while your eyes scanned over his body, tracing every outline and shadow, devouring every inch of his body.

He felt like a prey being toyed with by the predator, you were making him squirm with that intense stare. That’s why you avoided eye contact, jumped from one foot to the other, and kept doing god-knows-what with his hands. At some point you were fed up and said, “hold still, are you a dancing monkey or what?” Childe could only response with another forced laugh.

As for why you were eyeing him up and down so much, well, simply put, he was wearing woman’s clothing. A qipao in a pretty dark red colour, the shade kind of reminded you of blood. Since the dress was cut to fit the build of a woman, it looked clumsy around his fairly muscular body. And even though it looked out of place, you still thought it was quite attractive. Unlike his usual fashion, the dress showed off his curves and exposed his bare legs, what seems to add to his embarrassment.

“Looks good.” You gave him a short, almost forced compliment. It wasn’t a lie, just you had way more to say than a simple ‘looks good’. “Wow, thanks I guess.” Tartaglia groaned, crossing his arms in front of his chest. Seeing what little effect your praise had, you decided to try again, “I mean it, you look good as a girl, as my woman.” Out of nowhere his body twitched and tensed up, he didn’t answer you verbally but with his body language. If he had a tail, it’d be wagging like crazy.

“Are you done gawking?” The male eventually asked, his face and shoulders got painted bright pink. His eyes told you the truth, that he was humiliated, ashamed and yet also excited. “What’s with the rush, can’t wait to show your new look off to the other people?” You teased, and your words immediately got his attention, making his brain ratter, “what do you mean by that?” A smirk plastered your lips, you chuckled amused as you explained, “we are going to have a nice little date night today, and you aren’t going to change until I’m done with you.”

The way the colours left his face, letting him become as pale of a ghost was pretty amazing. He was trying so hard to accept his current situation, his legs were shaking again. “Come on, I already paid for the dress. So let’s put it to good use.” You encouraged him, holding his normal wear in your arms, now he couldn’t even run anymore. It seems there was no way around the straight up shameful act he was going to commit, and as if to add salt to the wound, he felt himself getting hard beneath the skin tight dress~ ♥︎

You walked ahead of him, motioning for him to follow you. All he could do was obey your commands with a sheepish smile, quickly rushing to your side while letting you show him off like your own little pet.

[mcflymemes]

PORTAL 2 PROMPTS *  assorted dialogue from the 2011 video game, adjust as necessary

when life gives you lemons, don't make lemonade! make life take the lemons back! get mad! i don't want your damn lemons!

best case scenario, you might get some superpowers. worst case, some tumors.

science isn't about why. it's about why not.

the next test is very dangerous.

before the wright brothers invented the airplane, anyone wanting to fly everywhere was required to eat 200 pounds of helium.

to help you remain tranquil in the face of almost certain death, smooth jazz will be deployed in three... two... one.

please disregard any undeserved compliments.

all right, i've been thinking.

what am i supposed to do with these?

do you know who i am?

oh, i like this guy.

he says what we're all thinking.

you can head on back to your desk.

well, this is the part where he kills us.

hello. this is the part where i kill you.

i know you.

no! i'm not listening! i'm not listening!

you're lying!

you're not just a regular moron. you were designed to be a moron.

i am not! a moron!

now who's a moron?

could a moron do that?

i can't see it though. maybe it fell off.

do you want to go and have a quick look?

are you alive? that's important. should have asked that first.

i'm going to work on the assumption that you're still alive.

i'm just going to wait for you up ahead.

i'll wait one hour.

brilliant! go team!

i think we can put our differences behind us.

hi. so. how are you holding up?

good, that's still working.

here are the test results.

you are a horrible person.

i'm serious. that's what it says.

we weren't even testing for that.

don't be alarmed, all right?

good work getting this far.

i wish i could take it all back. i honestly do.

i'm in space.

if i were ever to see her again, do you know what i'd say? i'd say "i'm sorry." sincerely.

i am sorry. i was bossy and monstrous... and i'm genuinely sorry.

you made it through! well done!

okay, follow me. we've still got work to do.

what's happening?

okay... don't move.

so i've got an idea, but it is bloody dangerous. here we go.

they told me that if i ever turned this flashlight on, i would die.

they told me that about everything.

i don't even know why they bother giving me this stuff if they didn't want me to use it.

look at you, soaring through the air like an eagle.

i'm different!

prometheus was punished by the gods for giving the gift of knowledge to man. he was cast to the bowels of the earth and pecked by birds.

it won't be enough. the answer lies beneath us.

oh, it's dark down here, isn't it?

i'm proud of you.

now we are a family again.

that last test was seriously disappointing.

just work with me.

some of my best friends are actually orphans.

you look ugly in that jumpsuit.

that's not my opinion.

i'll be honest. we're throwing science at the wall here to see what sticks.

no idea what it'll do.

i knew someone was alive in here!

you'll know when the test starts.

oh thank god you're all right.

i thought you were my greatest enemy, when all along you were my best friend.

the best solution to a problem is usually the easiest one.

i'll be honest. killing you? is hard.

i had a pretty good life. and then you showed up.

you know what? you win. just go.

it's been fun. don't come back.

this sentence is false.

to be honest, i might have heard that one before.

you know, i'm not stupid.

i realize you don't want to put me back in charge.

i'm being serious. i think there's something really wrong with me.

we should get our stories straight.

no, we're not stopping!

don't make eye contact, whatever you do.

i feel awful about that surprise.

oh, that's sad. but impressive.

we're running out of time.

you've probably figured it out by now, but i don't need you anymore.

i'm afraid you're about to become the immediate past president of the being alive club.

the square root of rope is string.

okay, what you're doing there is jumping.

you know what? that's close enough.

you saved my bacon.

is this a jailbreak?

the next test is very dangerous.

it's been a long time. how have you been?

i've been really busy being dead. you know, after you murdered me.

you out having yourself a little adventure?

no, don't get up. i'll be right back.

you're unqualified!

what if this hurts? what if it really hurts? oh, i didn't think about that.

get your hands off me!

i can't see a thing! what just happened?

i don't have any bullets.

did you feel that?

you were busy back there.

that's funny. i don't feel corrupt.

i've got an idea! do what it says!

look how small you are down there!

do you have any idea how good this feels?

sorry, fellas. she's married. to science.

let me answer those questions with a question. who wants to make sixty dollars?

yes, all right, okay, this is getting tiresome.

well done. good. aren't you little miss clever. little miss smashy smash.

does it actually make you feel good when you do that?

it's not impressive.

what is this, like a hobby for you now?

i'm beginning to actually take it personally.

it's like an insult to me.

oh, there goes another one.

it's vandalism! it's pure vandalism!

it's just us talking like regular people.

are you going to open this door?

where'd you go? come back!

[mikobeautifulheart]

hey sweetie!! its meee again!! (the one who requested the drunk megumi fic lmaoo)

ummm can you do megumi again??

so basically after a super tiring day, the reader and Megumi decided to chill in megumi's room. they get cozy and then they get intimate…. (no smut please!, JUST A STEAMY HOT MAKE OUT SESSION like before (with tongue [this is embarrassing now…]) AARRGHH!!.. and can you like, drag the make out session?? i mean, make it longer.) ummmmm then, gojo happens to pass by his room. he hears noises 👀👀(of smooches ofc)… he dramatically sighs like a proud dad considering how much megumi has grown and changed over time. (since he raised him). he then teleports into his room and takes a photo of them without them knowing(??) (idk the photo part, write whatever feels good!) he then teases megumi about it!!

and ofc do it only if it feels comfy for you!!

thanks a lot in advance!!!!!!!! <3333333333

Tehehe I almost jumped when I saw ur request anon, ASK AND YOU SHALL RECIVE.

Megumi and you getting caught up in the moment.

(And on Gojos phone)

TW: THERE WILL BE A MAKEOUT SESSION BUT NOT SMUT. and probably second hand embarrassment.

Maybe 800-900 wordsssish

UNNNNNNNEDDDITEDDD

You went over to Megumis dorm after training to study for your up coming tests. Why do you even have tests anyway your a sorcerer. Whatever any excuse is good enough of you get to hang with Megumi. You guys did actually study for a bit until the sun went down. That's when Megumi started to wrap things up. Even though it had been a few hours you were still hot and bothered from training, and Megumi knew that.

"My shower room is next to my bed room if you want to clean up." He said as he got up to put his study matierials back on his shelf. The best thing out having a small amount of students at Jujutsu High is how good the dorms get.

"If you don't mind."You said going to walk to the room. You paused

"Uh maybe not I didn't bring any clothes and my dorm is across campus..." You mumbled

"You can borrow some of mine" Megumi said hearing everything.

"Oh thanks" you said. Just thinking about being in his clothes makes you heat up.

You opened the bathroom door, spotless, as expected of Megumi. You suddenly felt him behind you making you turn around only to look right up at him.

"Sorry...but here the clothes" he said handing you a shirt and pants.

"Towels are in the corner over there" he mumbled before walking away.

"Thank you" you said going into the room and closing the door behind you.

What was he doing? He knew he wasn't supposed to have anyone in his dorm after 9:00 pm, let alone you. If he gets caught he would be doomed. He flung himself onto his bed, face in pillow and sighing loudly. The tips of his ears were red. He knows he's breaking the rules but...you...you were in his bathroom right now and you'll step out wearing HIS clothes. The image in his mind makes him groan. What was he going to do? You definitely weren't going back to your dorm, not that he wanted you to. And even if you tried to then you would get caught and he would just feel guilty.

Megumi would be lying if he said he never wanted this. He just hoped you did to. Just as he almost suffocated himself in his pillow he heard the bathroom door open. Footsteps filled his mind as you finally came into his view. He sat up and looked at you speechless. The way his clothes nearly slowed you whole made his heart explode. You rubbed the towel against your hair trying to get it as dry as possible before you set the towel aside and joined him on his bed.

There was an akward silence as it was taking everything in Megumi to keep his composure.

"Have you ever had a crush on anyone before Megumi" you asked out of the blue.

It obviously caught him off guard as he moved over to the other side of his bed to give you more space.

"Well...yeah I guess." He said rubbing the back of his neck starting straight at the wall infront of him. He could feel your eyes on him.

"What dose it feel like? Because I think I like someone right now." You said cheek flushed pink. You were nervous. You've been crushing on megimi for a while now but you didn't know how to take it out of the 'friend zone' so you figured that you should just go for it.

"Well it's like your having a heart attack." He starts.

"Then it makes you feel like you want to gently play with their hair" He says reaching out and taking a strand of your hair in-between his fingers.

"And then it makes you feel all hot and embarrassed but it dosent really matter when their so pretty."

You blush harded meeting Megumis gaze and refusing to look away.

"But when you reay like someone, it's love. And love makes you want to do this." He said hand letting go of your hair only to go behind your head and pull you into his lips.

You kiss. You kissed?

He pulled away for a moment letting out a hot breath.

"And it makes you tell them how much you need them and how you would die with out them."

He gose back into the kiss, but this time he slowly put his other arm around your back and lowered you gently onto the bed as the kiss deepened.

You part for a second and said

"Megumi I've never done this before, but I think I like it and I like you"

"I think I like you to" he said

He kissed you again but on your neck, making you groan.

Meanwhile when you guys were at the hight of your night a white haired menace walked by. He has 6 eyes there's nothing you can keep from him, that's why he was disappointed in Megumi because he thought he would have known that by now.

He decided to give Megumi a pass thinking it was iust Him and Yuji haning out until he heard a higher pitched groan. He opened the door slightly and looked into the room to see MEGUMI??? ON TOP OF Y/N???? A thousand thoughts went through his mind. Is he a womaniser? Is that the only thing Megumi learned while he was raised by Gojo? But he's only a kid! So are you...But your not kids anymore...but THATS HIS SON! And he was proud? A grin spread across his face as he closed the door and teleported beside Megumis book shelf, that was facing away from you guys.

"Y/N... I...I need you" Megumi said

"Megumi-" you said, your lips parting perfectly, almost irresistibly. So he went in again, this time he slipped his toung in making you gasp.

Gojo was mortified on one hand, he raised his son well, on the other hand he didn't know if Megumi should even be doing this... Eventually he settled on the 'do now consequence later' method. Before he left he snapped a picture and quickly teleported away.

"Hm. What's wrong Megumi?" You asked as he pulled away and looked around his room.

"It was nothing, I just thought I heard something" He said before going back down.

AUTHOURS NOTE: Thank youieee for the request my most loyal anon and I hope this time I did better (Romance wise) i mean be honest with me, I want to write what you people actually want so your going to have to be honest. Anyways im going to sleep now Gn. and thanks for reading.

You guys were heating up so much that the window started to gain condensation. Megumi deepened the kiss even more taking your breath away. You to were impossibly close together but craved to be closer. You put your arms up and wrapped them around Megumis neck making him go deeper into the kiss again.

One of your hands couldn't help but wander into his hair, playing with it while being high off love. He trailed kisses down your neck leaving a hicky here and there, tounge swiping over each one giving you chills.

"Megumiii~ " you groaned voice sounding like heaven to him.

"Mmm" He said in-between his bites

"What if someone sees them?" You say.

Honestly he could careless about who ever saw them, right now he only wanted you.

"Let them." He said before lifting is face above yours.

" I don't care who sees. Do you?" He asked

You shook your head as a 'not before he smirked and crashed into your lips again.

The next day after traning Gojo took Mefumi aside to talk.

"Look son-im so proud of you, you've grown so much from the mini Megumi I knew" Gojo said pretending to wipe a fake tear from his eye

"Son?"

"Yeah, well word of advice form an expert, I get you'll die without her but you gotta be quieter and don't have your make out sessions when IM on night watch at YOUR dorms okay?"

"What the hell are you talking abou-"

Gojo pulls up the picture of Megumis face hovering above yours.

"YOU CREEP WHAT WERE YOU DOING IN MY DORM" He yelled trying to take the phone off Gojo.

"MORE LIKE WHAT WAS SHE DOING IN YOUR DORM!"

"DELET THAT!" Megumi yelled

"No, It's going in your photo album" Gojo said turning on his infinity so Megumi was no match.

"And maybe for her birthday you should get her a scarf to cover those 'bed bug bites'"

"SHUT UP YOU PERVET, IM CALLING C.P.C ON YOU!"

Across the field you saw Megumi yelling at Gojo, throwing things at his infinity when Yuji suddenly snapped you out of your distraction.

"Hey Y/N maybe you should get a new Marree, those bed bug bites on your neck look really bad." He said out of genuine concern.

"Uh YEAH ILL DO THAT" you squeaked turning read and pulling your collar up to hide the red marks on your neck.

"You and Fushiguro sure got the bed bugs bad" Nobora smirked looking at you knowing that no way in hell was that a bed bugs work.

THANKS FOR READING ♡

[sanzusslutt]

Whatever it Takes

Pairing: Teacher!Nanami x Student!Y/N

Warnings: This fic contains explicit content. Minors please get away now. Praising, fingering, clit play, clit licking, smut, Y/N is female, mentions of the words cunt, pussy, and other namings of the female body part, Nanami is hard and mention of squirting.

Summary: You would do anything to stay in your handsome professor’s class

*knock knock*

“Yes?” The professor called. Knowing full well it’s his non great but potential student that he is been tutoring since the start of the semester.

“It’s y/n, professor! May I come in?” You said cheerfully. You weren’t exactly one of the worst students. You could be one of the top student but with a professor that hot and handsome, you couldn’t help it when he asked you if you’d want to take private studying lessons.

“Of course you may. I’ve been thinking about calling you here myself to be honest…” he said, looking troubled about something.

You knew what troubled him. The not long handed exam paper on his desk that belongs to you. It’s not like you did horribly on the test, but how concentrated can you be when your charming teacher is sitting on his desk, rolled up sleeved that are about to tear apart from the muscle of his arm, blond locks falling beautifully on his forehead, brown glittering eyes looking around the classroom and eventually ending on yours, yellow tie loose around his pretty neck due to those two damn unbuttoned buttons of his shirt. How can you not look at him?

“How did I do on the exam?..” you questioned as soon as you got inside the classroom, closing the door behind you.

“Not well.. especially for the time we consumed on studying for this, it’s not good.” He exclaimed, looking at you and then back at the paper again. “I can’t do more anymore, y/n” he sighed, looking back at you with a disappointed look.

“I will do better on the next one, I’m sure of it!.. please don’t stop the privet lessons, they’re honestly so helpful..” you tried convincing him, hoping he would take pity on you and continue the lessons. That was not the problem tho..

“I’m not talking about the lessons.. i have to fail you y/n. You haven’t had any improvement since we started the studying sessions, how can I keep you in my class with those grades?” He explained, watching your pretty eyes get from pleading to glooming..

“Oh.. no.. professor you can’t fail me!. What will I tell my parents if I fail after all they did for me?..” you said, hoping you could change his mind.

“Y/n, I’d be more than happy to keep you in my class but without improvements, it will be really difficult..” Nanami explained. Every word falling from his lips was like a stub straight to your heart, fearing you wouldn’t have the chance to be alone with him anymore. Meaning that, all your made up scenarios of him, coming closer to you inch by inch, his hand on your waits when he explained a problem you couldn’t understand, his face so close to yours that you could feel his breath on your neck, his palm from your waist slowly coming down to your lap and going upwards towards your-

“Y/n.. I warned you, if you haven’t improved till next semester, I will not be able to have you in my class..” he exclaimed as he placed his palm on the hand you subconsciously settled down on his desk, keeping your composure as you watched your dreams fall one by one.

“Is-.. isn’t anything I can do about it right now?..” you asked, not letting the last spark of hope go off. “I’ll do anything to stay in your classroom.. please, I’ll improve I promise, I’ll do better..” you’ve never begged anyone to stay with you or for you to stay with them. But here you are, begging your stunning teacher to stay in his classroom.

“Anything?” He questioned. His eyes darkened at the question, leaving you with a sense of wonder.

“Anything.” Your tone came out harsher than you expected but your point was perfectly made.

Nanami got up from his chair, coming towards your smaller figure, placing his hand on your face and with his thumb on your chin, he gently lifted upwards your head, making eye contact as he looked down at you. His eyes were dark, like the eyes of a predator looking at his pray. Except, you weren’t a pray or a victim. You were there with full consent and excitement of what may happen. Your hand stayed glued to your professor’s desk, using it to hold your composure and not fall down the cold floor as your handsome teacher caressed his thumb on your bottom lip.

He stared at you for a couple minutes before he finally closed the distance between your faces, leaving you with your eyes widen and a giant exclamation mark on your head. The kiss started as slow, sensual. But as the minutes passed, it became more passionate, more intense. As you thought it couldn’t get any better, he placed his other hand on your waist, sending chills down your spine and a bubbling feeling inside your stomach.

Your little head was up to cloud nine, your thoughts messed up as you tried to comprehend that it was your mesmerising teacher that was kissing you. The one you constantly thought about, the one who you mercilessly touched yourself at night thinking about, who could make a mess in your panties in only an hour of tutoring without even touching you, this person was now kissing you.

Your head started getting dizzy as your professor’s tongue explored your mouth and his hands found perfect place on each side of your waist. The grip he had on your sides became harder as the moment heated and the feeling inside your stomach became unbearable. He was there to fix that though..

In a matter of seconds, you were picked up on the air by his strong and muscular arms that found place under your thighs. Your hands immediately circled around his neck, trying to keep your balance as his hands gripped your thighs hard enough to leave nail marks on them. That was the least of your concerns in your already fucked up little head.

He gently placed you on his desk, caressing softly the fat of your thighs as he slowly came closer and closer to the visible stain on your panties. He took a moment to look at your pretty, messed up face as he broke a kiss, mesmerised by your state, your puffy red lips, your full of lust eyes, your light shade of red cheeks and the saliva connecting your lips together. The lips that drained all the sanity from your brain just a moment ago, now found place on your neck. Licking, kissing, sucking, only making your state even more pathetic than what it already was.

The soft moans that fell from your lips was like music to his ears. A music that he was already drained to. A melody that could wake up any part of his body faster than anything. He composed himself, bringing you closer to his muscular body by the hard grip on your waist. His hands then, found place on the fat of your ass, on which he lifted up your skirt a little to grip. His lips found their place on your neck again but this time he slowly motioned downward with every kiss. Your head fell back as he started unbuttoning your shirt, kissing every part of your, now marked, neck till your soft breasts. One of his hands found place on your boobs while the other untied your bra, letting your boobs fall free and setting it down beside you, along with your white shirt.

It was now visible how impatient he started to get as he begin to harshly unbuttoned and removed his shirt, leaving his perfectly made body on full display. His lips were on yours once again, his hand travelling from your ass to your thighs and stopping near your arousal. You were embarrassed of him seeing the mess you’ve become for him and the wet stain on your panties didn’t really help covering that up. Nothing could actually help you cover that but the only thing in his head was to make you more of a mess than you already were. Easy enough..

The moment his thumb slightly touched your cunt, a moan fell from your lips so unholy that all the blood from his body seemed to went straight to his cock. His head went blank in seconds, not actually believing that just a moan of yours could get him so fucking hard and impatient. He HAD to hear that again. The moment you actually thought about the ungodly moan that came through your throat and the embarrassment hit you like a truck, his thumb started doing circling motions on your clit, making it impossible for you to contain your control.

“Oh god, darling.. I wanna hear that again..” he mumbled as his fingers slightly pushed aside your panties and finally touching your naked cunt, giving him exactly what he asked for. His fingers begun with an excruciatingly slow pace against our clit, trying not to lose control and fuck your brains out at that exact moment.

“Professor.. please..” you plead, wanting way more than that but too embarrassed and brainless to say it.

“Please what, darling?” he quickened the pace of his thumb, making extremely difficult for you to think, let alone form, an actual sentence.

“I-.. I want more.. please..” how could he resist your teary and pleading eyes while you’re asking for more? Your eyes widen as he pressed the outside of your cunt and slowly entering you with only his middle finger. You sensed your body giving up on you as you laid on your back on your teacher’s desk, giving him better access to move his finger inside you.

His pace stared off slow, wanting to save every moment and every moan that left from your lips for the rest of his life. The mesmerising sight that unraveled in front of him, seemed untrue. You, laid on your back on his own desk, hair spread across your face and on the wooden surface beneath you, your glossy eyes looking back at him, your bottom puffy lip between your teeth trying to stop the ungodly sounds, your breasts perfectly placed on each side of your enthralling body and your arousal coating his fingers and the desk under you.

He would be a liar if he said he didn’t imagine having his fingers deep inside you. But you being his student, he knew he could never actually be in that situation. It wasn’t right. Yet in this moment, the only thing in his mind was you. You and everything about you that makes him feral. 

Although his slow pace, even the thought of his fingers being inside you and having him above you, was enough to make you see stars. As his pace begin to quicken, he adds another finger, making you moan in response from the friction and your mind was quick to blur any thoughts you previously had. You were a mess only from his fingers. He began to move faster and hit that sweet spot inside you endlessly. Your sounds only becoming louder, making his patience running thinner second by second.

“You’re doing so good, darling..” he said as he lowered his head to finally get a taste of you that he’s been so eagerly craving.

Everything was starting to get too much for your little brain and body to handle. His praises, his voice, him hitting repeatedly that spot inside you, those brown eyes looking down at you, it was all too much. And as you thought it couldn’t get any better, he added his tongue to the mix. The sound that escaped your lips, will forever be craved in his mind. He begin to lick and suck your clit as he abused the sweet spot inside you, bringing you closer and closer to the edge.

You coated his fingers with your juices as they moved in and out your wet cunt. The feeling of the tip of his fingers hitting that sponge spot inside of you, made your moans even louder than before, leaving him with not other choice but to place his hand on your mouth and muffle the unholy sounds you were making before someone could hear.

“You’re such a good girl.. letting your teacher fuck that sweet cunt with his fingers.. would you cum for me, darling?” His voice was so smooth but the demanding tone couldn’t be hidden.

“Yes!.. please!.. I’m gonna cum please don’t stop, professor Nanami!..” that was his last straw. His name falling off your lips and you begging to cum? How could he resist such a request when you’re such a good girl for him?

“Go on then, dear. Come on your teacher’s fingers.” He demanded as he abused once again your clit with his other hand.

And with that, your back arched against your teachers desk and you felt everything that was building up a moment ago, being spurted all around. Your orgasm hit you like a train as he continued to pump his fingers inside of you a little longer. He stared at you as you tried to catch your breath, hair messed up, your eyes glossy with tears falling at each side of your pretty face, mouth hanging open, lips red and swollen from the bitting, your neck marked all over, your breasts moving up and down with your breathing and your pussy spamming and spurting liquid as he removed his fingers.

“You did so good, darling.” He praised as he licked your arousal from his digits.

He waited for you to catch your breath and help you put your clothes back on when you saw the tent formed in his pants. He made you cum but you didn’t have the chance to even help him a little with the problem that you created.

“I didn’t get to make you cum, professor..” he smirked to your confession and his next words made your heart jump.

“Don’t worry, darling. You’ll have the chance next time if your grades become better.” he exclaimed as he walked you out of the classroom.

Next time.. Your wishes are finally fulfilled and you’ll make sure to get your grades up as you impatiently wait for that next time..

[minminyoonjii]

Spot! [Binchan/Fem! Reader]

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🕯Summary: Changbin comes home early from feeling sore at the gym. Chan saw the opportunity and recommend to use his cardio machine.

🌹CW

Objectification|Bondage|Free Use|Multiple Orgasms|Voyeurism|Threesome! MMF|Praise Kink|Wet & Messy|Pussy Pump|Rough Sex|Dom! Bang Chan|Soft Dom! Seo Changbin |Pervy! Reader|Facials|Cunnilingus|Vibrator|Oral Fixation|Fingering|Daddy Kink|Anal Bead|Anal Penetration|Free Use|Teasing|Very Sensitive Pussy|Squirting|Head Pets|Deep Penetration|Aftercare

💌 This is a work of fiction, I by all means don't force ship anyone. They have the right to love whomever they want.

🍄Wordcount: 1.6K

Changbin rolled his shoulders back, "That felt good," he groaned, feeling stiff after his recent workout. "You're home?" Chan asked, grabbing a bottle of water. Changbin nodded, "Yeah, I couldn't get my cardio in. For some reason my body still feels stiff," he huffed, leaning against the kitchen counter. Chan smiled, "I just bought new equipment that might help," he said, raising an eyebrow. Changbin's eyes widen, "Oh. Do you mind me testing it out then?" he asked, curiosity clouding his judgement.

Chan held back a smirk, "I thought you'd never ask," he said, leading Changbin to his room. Changbin opened the door and instantly his breath got caught in his throat. "A beauty isn't she," Chan said, trailing his hand down your spine. Your ankles were bound to the ends of the bed, your arms tied behind your back in a little bow and your chin was rested on some pillows, supporting your head up. Changbin gulped, "Hyung, what's the meaning of this," he whispered, the sight of your bare cunt sent shockwaves straight to his cock.

"Well, I know how much you love to provide pleasure, Bin-ah. So, I made sure she was riled up just for you," Chan said, spreading your folds apart to show your tight hole. Changbin stared for a second before looking away, "She's your girl, Chan hyung. I can't use her as a cardio machine," he said, shifting his sweatpants so his bulge wasn't obvious. "Bin-ah, she consented to this. You can walk away if you want," Chan reassured, rubbing down your thighs. 

Changbin bit his bottom lip, "Fuck. I can do whatever I want?" he asked, testing the limits. Chan nodded, "As long as it makes her gush." he said, placing a kiss on your ass. You shuddered at the objectification, head hazy when they spoke about your body like a toy. Changbin eyed your plump flesh, his cock hardening at the lewd ideas echoing in his mind, "Okay, okay, I'm down. Fuck you two are freaks," he rasped, grabbing a palmful of your ass. You bit back a moan, staying as quiet as possible. 

Chan sat by your head, his firm hand stroking your hair, "Don't worry, princess. Soon, you'll be screaming whether you like it or not," he said, kissing your forehead. Changbin shuddered a breath, "Toys too?" he said, seeing the avary of toys next to your ankle. Chan smiled, rubbing your shoulders, "It's up to you if you want to use them," he said, tossing him a bottle of lube. Changbin pumped a significant amount in his palms, "Take a deep breath, bun," he instructed, easing his index finger through your rim. 

You keened, clenching hard around his finger. Changbin rubbed your ass, "Relax, bunny. Deep breaths, hm?" he said, thrusting his finger thoroughly. You melted under his touch, hiccuping when he eased another finger into your tight hole. Changbin cooed, scissoring your hole apart, loosening it enough for him to slip the anal beads in, "Good doll," he praised, adding another finger. You grit your teeth, lips wobbling at the pressure splitting your rim. Chan rubbed your bottom lip, "Open," he said, tugging on it.

You did as told and a sharp whimper escaped your lips for a split second before Chan slipped a squeaky dog toy into your mouth. Changbin furrowed his eyebrows at the sound, "What the fuck was that?" he asked, pumping three fingers in and out of your hole. "A carrot toy, doesn't she look cute?" Chan asked, tucking your hair behind your ear. Changbin looked over your shoulder, "Fuck that's cute," he groaned, easing his fingers out. You bit on the toy, squeaking in displeasure at feeling empty. 

Changbin chuckled, slicking the beads in lube, "I know bunny. So impatient," he teased, easing the smallest bead into your rim. You keened at the pressure, loving the warmth pooling in your abdomen. Changbin eased it till the last bead when your rim resisted the stretch. He gently thrust the bead against your hole, watching it slowly work itself open around the bead. You bit down the toy, and a long dragged squeak escaped it when the bead finally breached. 

Changbin hummed, tugging on the hoop at the end, "Took it so well, bunny," he praised, slicking the pussy pumper. "Can I use this one on her?" he asked, holding the toy up for Chan to see. Chan nodded, "Yeah, as long as you know what you're doing, Bin-ah," he said, nosing your hair. Changbin hummed, placing the chamber around your cunt, making sure your whole pussy is covered, "I'm guessing this your first time using this bunny. It looks fresh out of the box. Don't worry, I'll make you feel good," he reassured.

You laid pliant, anticipating what he would do next. Changbin pressed the first pump and instantly you felt your cunt tingle. He pumped again and again until your folds plump up within the chamber and your clit swelled. You drooled around the toy, eyes rolling back at the warm steam building within the chamber from your warm pussy. Changbin pumped a few more times until your pussy filled the chamber, "I can't wait to make you squirt, bunny," he said, stroking his cock through his sweatpants. 

"You're really meticulous with your equipment," Chan said, noticing how precise Changbin is with your pleasure. Changbin smirked, "Preparation is always good, Hyung," he said, gently releasing the pressure from the pump. You bit into the toy, eyebrows furrowing at the increase in sensitivity. "Hyung, come look," Changbin said, gesturing Chan over. Chan scoffed out a chuckle, his mouth went dry at the sight of your cunt swollen and puffy, "Gorgeous," he whispered under his breath.

Changbin nodded, swiping his hand between your fold, grazing your clit. You yelped behind the toy, eyes widening as a sudden orgasm rushed through your body. Chan's breath hitched, "Did she just cum?" he asked, seeing the slick drip onto the bed. "Ahm, her cunt is more sensitive than usual, just a bit of pressure like this," he said, squeezing your clit. You dropped the toy with a scream, "Hah, ah, ah," you cried, cumming again onto his hand. Chan shuddered at your sharp scream, slipping the toy back into your mouth. 

"Now it's time to play, yeah?" Changbin said, slipping his cock out from the pants. You shivered knowing this was just the beginning. Changbin rubbed his cockhead between your folds, chuckling at the quivers your body was giving out, "Drippy girl. So fucking warm," he groaned, slicking his girth in your arousal. You looked up at Chan with pity half-lidded eyes, wanting someone to pity your situation. Chan chuckled, stroking your hair, "Aww, baby girl wants pampering from Daddy while Binnie destroys your cunt, yeah?" he teased, pampering your face with kisses.

Changbin turned on the vibrator, "Pamper her well, Hyung," he said, placing the vibrator right on your clit. You sobbed out more, pleasure sparking throughout your body. Chan cooed, coaxing you through every single orgasmic shock, "You can take it, princess. Daddy's here," he reassured, watching the way your cunt drips slick onto the sheets like a broken pipe. Changbin took advantage of your clenching cunt and eased his cock to the hilt, his cockhead kissing your cervix, "Fuck," he growled, gripping your hips.

Tears split from your eyes, barely comprehending Chan's comforting words. Pleasure warmed your lower half, and orgasm after orgasm ripped from your body until you couldn't tell each one apart. Changbin threw the vibrator aside, pounding your cunt like the cardio machine you were intended to be, "Take it, bunny. Take my fucking cock," he groaned, grinding his cockhead against your spot. You wailed from the pressure, ass and cunt filled to the brim, throbbing to burst.

Changbin gripped your waist so hard, you knew bruises decorated your skin. "Cumming, I'm cumming!" you sobbed, nuzzling into Chan's palm as you came. Changbin groaned at the clench of your cunt, his cock slipping out of your ribbed walls when your slick squirted onto his lower half. "Hyung, hug her tight," he instructed, lust coating his senses and he could only think of coating your cunt white. He slipped his cock back into your oversensitive pussy, thrusting at a brutal pace until his orgasm caught up to him.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," Changbin growled, cumming into your cunt. You hiccuped into Chan's hold, body spent and used like a ragdoll. Chan undid the ribbon, "Such a good girl. You did so good for us, princess," he said, noticing your eyes glazed over. Changbin hissed, easing his cock from your loose cunt, "So so good," he rasped, unstrapping your ankles. You sniffled, too weak to curl up into Chan's hold, "Daddy!" you sobbed, needing his warmth. Chan scooped you up gently, holding you close, "Daddy's here, princess," he whispered, rocking your weak body.

Changbin cleared up the toys, setting them in the sink to be washed, "Are you feeling okay, bunny girl?" he asked, tucking your hair behind your ears. You nodded, slowly coming back down from the intense high. Changbin smiled, "My cardio for today is certainly in, that's for sure," he said, trying to lighten the mood. You stifle a laugh, hiding your face in the crook of Chan's neck. Changbin chuckled, "Are you laughing, bun. I think I saw a smile," he teased, tickling your sides. You giggled, squirming from his tickles, "Binnie, noo," you squealed. Chan chuckled, kissing your nose, "Giggly little thing, aren't you," he said, giving you an Eskimo kiss. You smiled, tucked against his chest. Changbin cooed, "Channie hyung, you better keep her away from me before I hide her in my pocket," he said, rubbing your cheek. You giggled, nuzzling his palm. Changbin made eye contact with Chan and instantly carried you off his chest, "She's mine!" he laughed, carrying you to the bathroom. Chan chuckled at his behaviour, "We'll see about that," he said, removing the stained sheets.

[mastermindmiko]

Tests

Paring: Fred Weasley + fem!reader

word count: 2124

Summary: Angelina has been suggesting that you're pregnant, you're sure that she's wrong, but what's the harm in checking? She was right.

Warnings: Pregnancy, the future, ANGST with happy ending. Maybe some errors, I wrote this at 2 am.

Hey! if you think this didn't completely suck, feel free to check out my masterlist.

I've known that something was wrong for two weeks now. I've been feeling sick, and I've missed my period. I've been craving a lot of different foods that I wouldn't usually eat, and my friends have noticed.

Angelina pointed it out to me this morning and that's how we got where we are now. She's holding out not one, not two, but three tests for me to try. I shake me head and look at her incredulously. I chuckle, "No way, Angie."

"Yes way, You might be." Angelina says, waving them in the air. I pace around the room again, and then stop to look at her and say, "Fred and I are always safe."

"Condoms only work most of the time, not always." Angelina says, and I sit on my bed, contemplating the thought. Angelina adds, "You've been craving things, you've been moody, you missed a period!"

"There has to be another explanation. I'm sure. I am sure that I'm not pregnant!" I say, and then Angelina walks from her bed to mine and says, "If you're so sure, then what's the harm in taking these to make sure."

"Fine." I say. I grab them from her hands and hop off the bed. I head to the bathroom and I take the tests. I set them up one by one beside each other perfectly in a straight line, and wait anxiously for the results to appear.

Angie knocks on the door and I open it for her. She looks at the three tests and stands beside me. I nibble on my fingers, anxiously. Angelina opens her mouth to say something and I shush her loudly. She says, "What? Am I gonna scare them by talking?!"

I, once again, shush her loudly. She huffs and folds her arms over her chest. I stare at the tests then at the watch over my wrist, thinking, why the hell is time moving so slow? As the time is about to finish, I start to pace around the room, then shuffle on my feet. Angelina says, "You can hold my hand if you're nervous."

"I'm not nervous!" I shout at her, then after a few second of nibbling at my bottom lip, I grab her hand in mine. I look at the watch, then squeeze Angie's hand, anxiously. In any second, there's either going to be a piece of news that will change not only my life, but my life and Fred's life forever, or I could have spent a lot of unnecessary time worrying.

"I'm sure whatever it is, you'll be fine." Angie says, she already knows that I'm pregnant, she feels it in her gut. I'm too scared to think about it myself because I might get that same feeling in my gut. All the evidence is there, the fatigue, not being able to go through a few classes before heading to the toilets, the nausea. All signs point to yes, but the proof will be in front of us in a few seconds.

My hands start to feel clammy and I need to not be holding anyone's hand right now. I go to sit on the closet toilet seat, and Angie sits on the edge of the tub. She asks, "How are you feeling?"

My throat feels dry, and I rub my hands together before rubbing them on my pants to dry them. I shrug my shoulders, and exhale. I let out a nervous chuckle, then say, "I'm terrified."

"What will everybody think? We've still got a few months left of school." I say, and I start panicking thinking about all the things that can go wrong about getting pregnant. "How can I have my NEWTs while being pregnant?"

I think of the last thing, the thing that's on my mind the most. You don't need to take your NEWTs to have a career anymore, and who cares what people think. My hands start to shake and I cry, "What if Fred leaves me?"

Angelina rushes to my side when she sees me cover my face and start crying. She presses a hand to my back and rubs it soothingly. She says, "Honey, it's going to be fine. I'm sure everything will work out to what's best, really. You can choose not to keep it, or put it up for adoption, maybe. Besides, you'll always have me."

I lift my hands from my palms and see her giving me a nervous smile herself. I smile back at her gratefully, and wrap my arms around her. From behind her back, I notice that one of the tests has changed. I trample her on my way, reaching it. I place my other hand over my mouth as I notice the two stripes.

I look at the others and they all have the same result. The two stripes. All the tests are positive. I gasp, and purse my lips. Angelina doesn't say anything and still rubs my back reassuringly. I put the tests back beside the sink and wash my hands. My heart is beating a hundred miles an hour.

"What are you going to do?" Angelina asks, cautiously. I sit back down on the toilet seat and she crouches in front of me. I tilt my head back and stare at the ceiling. I reply, "I have no idea."

"Darling?"

I hear Fred's voice say, and my eyes widen as much as they can. Angelina stands up immediately. I push her near the door, and whisper, "Go tell him I'm sick, or busy, anything like that. I can't talk to him right now, I can't!"

Angelina walks out of the bathroom, and I press my hear against the door, hoping to hear the conversation. Fred says, "Hi, Captain."

"She's busy right now, Weasley. She can't talk." Angelina says, in a steady voice, even though I know she's nervous. I can just picture Fred's face morph into confusion and then he says, "Why?"

"Is she in there?" Fred asks, I hear his footsteps coming towards the door, and I feel my blood run cold. He knocks on the door, and he says, "Darling? Are you in there?"

"Yes."

"What's going on? Is something wrong?" Fred asks, and I feel the urge to say, yes somethings wrong, something is very very wrong. I stutter, "No, everything's fine, Fred."

"You don't sound alright. Can I come in?" Fred asks, and I hear both Angelina and I shout, quickly, "NO!"

I hear Fred chuckle, but not his normal type of chuckle. He leans on the door, I know by the sound of the small thud against the door. Fred says, "What can Angelina see that I can't? I've already seen all of you."

That's the problem. I look down to the door handle and notice that there's no locks. I curse and it makes Fred say, "Love, I really need to see you, you're worrying me like crazy here."

I run to the counter, grab the tests and shove them into the trash bin. I let the toilet paper roll drop down hastily to hide them. I hear the door open, and I turn around to stand to face him. He looks worried, and I press my lips together. I give him an unconvincing smile.

"You look a little pale." Fred notes, he then steps closer to me, and leans closer. He adds, "You're sweating like crazy too."

"It's hot."

"It's November." Fred says, then grabs my hand. He leads me out of the room. I try to stop, but he's walking determined. I ask, "Where are we going?"

"To Madame Pomfrey, she's gonna have a full check up on you." Fred says, and I sit down on the floor to not move. If Madame Pomfrey does a check up, she'll no doubt find out that I'm pregnant. Fred stops too and looks behind him. He bends down and picks me up in his arms bridal style. Fred says, "You're going."

He takes me to the hospital wing with Angelina right behind us. Fred puts me on one of the beds, and then he sits down beside me, holding my hand, tightly. Madame Pomfrey comes to check up on me, she does scans and spells and everything. I wait until my secret is out to Fred. I don't think I can bare losing him.

Madame Pomfrey walks in with a paper, holding the tests' results. She walks over to us and then looks at the paper. Her eyes widen and I look at her desperately, hoping that she would lie for me. She clears her throat, and looks at Fred with a smile. She says, "Your girlfriend is completely fine."

"Just a little exam stress, you should make sure that she relaxes, and eats well." She continues, and I know a part of that advice is pregnancy related. She says, "Off you go then, Miss Johnson, if you could just stay for a second."

~~~

I couldn't tell Fred, and I couldn't look at him without feeling a nasty feeling gnawing at me, so my solution was to not be around Fred. I saw him at meals and during classes, but I never stuck around to see him after. This went on for a month, and I was already two months along. I was glad I wasn't showing.

I had decided to keep the baby, even when I don't know what's going to happen between me and Fred. Angelina has been the greatest help ever since Madame Pomfrey gave her my papers when I left with Fred the day I found out. She's been reading books, and making sure I'm eating right and everything. She supports me, the one thing she doesn't support me in is not telling Fred for this long.

"Is today the day?" She asks as we head down to breakfast. I've grown tired of the question. I shrug my shoulders, and give her the usual reply, "Maybe."

I don't get to go to breakfast because George walks out furiously and towers over me. He doesn't look at Angelina while he says, "If you could excuse us captain, I need to talk to my brother's girlfriend."

Angelina prepares a reply before I lift up a hand and say, "It's alright, Angie."

She hesitates before going into the Great Hall. George talks a few steps till we're out of the entrance of the hall. He glares at me and as soon as I lean against the wall, he starts the ramble, "I know I'm not supposed to interfere because this isn't my relationship, but you've been avoiding Fred for a while now, and he knows. He's been strong, but you're hurting him. He cried yesterday because he doesn't want you to break up with him, so that's where I draw the line-"

"George, I'm pregnant." I shot out, and he stands transfixed with his eyes wide and mouth slightly parted. He doesn't say anything so I grow more nervous. He stutters before spewing, "Is it Fred's?"

"Yes, of course, it's Fred's. What kind of woman do you take me for?!" I shout, furiously. Did he honestly think I would cheat on Fred? We've been dating for a while, If I would've cheated, I would've done it by now. George rubs the back of his head sheepishly, "Sorry, why haven't you told Fred?"

"I'm scared." I say, and look down at the floor. I bite the insides of my cheeks, and George nods his head understandingly. George knows what Fred would do, they're twins and they have this special ability to know what the other will do. George says, "I'm sure Fred will do what's right."

But what would Fred find right, that sort of thing is relative from one person to the other. He could leave, maybe that's what is right for him. I nod my head at George's words even though it doesn't soothe me. George asks, "How long have you known?"

"A month."

"A month!" George repeats, louder. He looks around to make sure no one heard him, even though it would be hard to know what the conversation is about from that word alone. George asks, "How far along are you?"

"Two months."

"Two months!"

"George, we're really getting nowhere like this." I say after rolling my eyes. George stares at the floor deep in shock. He asks, what I hope is the final question, "Are you keeping it?"

"Yeah."

"Wow. That's my niece or nephew in there. Cool." George says, and I smack his arm, even though it relieves me a bit to find out that this is George's reaction, maybe Fred's will be the same. George clears his throat then says, "I really think you should tell him, soon."

I nod my head at his words, and he puts a hand on my shoulder before saying, "Whatever Fred does I want you know that I can help, it'll be awkward if Fred decides to be an idiot, but I'll be there for you, and either George the second, or Georgina."

"Thank you, George. I'm ignoring you naming my kid by the way." I chuckle at the end, and he smiles back at me. George says, "He's in the dorm, if you want to talk to him."

I nod at his words and then he leaves to go to breakfast. I'm going to tell Fred, now. I march over to the common room, and then to his dorm, trying not to overthink it, and trying to get as much out of this new confidence. I open the door to his dorm, and Fred's standing in the middle.

"Hi."

"Hey." Fred says, and I look at him. All the confidence flies out the window in a second. I feel my breath hitch. I stutter out, "There's something I need to tell you."

Fred nods his head, but keeps standing where he is. I sit on his bed that I know so well, and the place where this all happened. I take in a deep breath, in and out, and a couple more times. Fred stays patient I loved that about him, he wouldn't appear to be the kind of person who would be patient, but he always is with me.

He watches me attentively, and I take in the last deep breath. I remind myself that I can do it, and even if Fred doesn't want to stay, I can raise my kid on my own with Angie and George. Here goes nothing. I shot out, "I'm pregnant."

He doesn't say anything for a bit and his facial expressions don't change. I consider repeating it again because he might not have heard me, but then his eyes widen, and his mouth hangs wide. Same reaction as George, just much more dramatic.

I feel my heart racing in anticipation, I pray that the shock subsides and his reaction gives me any input on how he's feeling. He stands up straighter, and fixes his expression to neutral. I straighten my back, ready for an answer. He doesn't give me one, instead his eyes keep flickering from my eyes to my stomach over and over again.

I place a protective hand over my stomach, and I find the wait unbearable. I wait, wishing he would just do something. The more his mouth stays closed, the more hope I lose. I feel my eyes water, and my stomach sink. I let out a bitter chuckle then say, "Could you at least say anything?"

It takes him a second, but he does say something. He says it so low that I barely even hear it. He mutters, "Shit."

He turns around and leaves the room, shutting the door behind him. As soon as it closes, I start sobbing. I guess George was wrong, Fred didn't end up doing the right thing.

~~~

"I still can't believe that jerk!" Angelina shouts, as she folds her clothes, folding them into her suitcase. I don't bother doing the same with my clothes. I'm staying at Hogwarts for Christmas this year. I sigh, "I really don't want to think about it Angie."

"Sorry." She says, and I find myself staring at the ceiling again. It's been like this for two days. All I've done was sob, this is the first day that I wasn't a mess. George tried to see me, but I couldn't talk to him, not when he looks so much like Fred. It's unfair to him, I know, but I can't bring myself to care.

There's a knock on the door, and I assume it's one of my roommates, coming to get her things. Instead, Fred walks in. I see him before Angelina does, but as soon as she sees him, she starts, "You! Get out!"

She goes to him and starts to push him out the door, but he places his feet firmly on the ground, and holds Angelina off. Fred says, eyes looking straight at me, "Please, I want to talk."

"It's fine, Angie." I sigh, and she looks at me with bewilderment and then glares at Fred. She steps out of the room while Fred steps inside. She closes the door behind her, and Fred looks at me.

Fred looks around the room, and his eyes land at the only, still messy nightstand, mine. He clears his throat, but says nothing. I grow agitated, I sneer, "If you're not going to say anything, just leave."

"I'm sorry. I am so sorry. I don't know why I left. I'm an idiot. I can't imagine how you must've felt. I am so so sorry." Fred says, rushing over towards me. He sits on the bed beside me, and takes both my hands in his. I feel my eyes water, and I look down. He takes my chin in his hands, and makes me look into his eyes. He continues, "I was so worried. I haven't turned eighteen, and I was so scared that I wouldn't be a good dad. I don't have a job. I want to open a joke shop, who knows how much money that'll make, and I-"

He chokes up, and he wraps his arms around me. I hug him back just as tightly. A few tears slip from my eyes, and I squeeze him harder. I missed him so much. Fred says, "I'm so sorry, please forgive me. I love you so much. I don't want to lose you...either of you."

And just like that I'm sobbing. I blame the hormones a hundred percent. I mumble, "I love you too, Fred."

I'm sure I've ruined his sweater with my tears, but I can't bring myself to move an inch away from him. Fred wraps his arms around my waist and squeezes me, affectionately. He freezes and pushes me away from him by my shoulders. He panics, "Did I just squeeze baby?"

"I'm actually not sure." I reply, and I place a hand on my stomach. I shrug my shoulder and say, "I feel fine, so I guess not?"

"Come with me for Christmas." Fred suggests, and I feel stressed out by the idea. I haven't told anyone besides George and Angelina, so by the time that break is over I'll definitely be showing. Fred adds, "Only if you want to of course, I just don't want to miss you."

"Sure." I say, and Fred beams. He hugs me again, this time less tightly, making sure not to squeeze the baby. He starts tearing up himself, and I find peace in his arms. I can't wait to spend the rest of my life like this, especially with a tiny set of arms joining the hug.

an: I'm thinking of writing like a tiny little one shot on how Fred would be with like Pregnant reader, but I'm not sure

[tokyo-daaaamn-ji-gang]

How do the tokyo revengers boys act around their crush????

Not counting the guys who've seen around a crush, this is how I think they would act!

Mikey- Tries to get your attention a lot and insists you come and hang out or "play" with him. He wants your attention on him and will do whatever he can to get that. Will pout if you ignore him too much and complain to Draken. 

Baji- He plays it cool, pretends that he isn't romantically interested and instead tries to see you as a friend. Still keeps you close to him but tries not to act on any feelings (at least not without a push).

Chifuyu- Blushing sm whenever you're around, almost drives himself crazy with how much he thinks about you. Reads his manga for advice and even asks Baji despite Baji having 0 experience with this himself. 

Mitsuya- Focuses more of his attention on you. He tries to get to know you more and spends more time with you. He's just a lot more interested in you.

Hakkai- Not only can he not talk to you but he can barely be in the same room as you, leaves very quickly if you approach. He admires you from afar until he works up the courage to say something. 

Smiley- Hangs out around you more often and basically becomes your guard dog, threatening anyone who seems like they'll cause you trouble. He hasn't really figured out how to talk to you properly yet so he tries to let his actions show how much he cares instead. Tries hard to not blush around you.

Angry- Starts off very slow with just saying hi to you everytime he sees you, then starts asking how you are and tries to engage you in further chats. He's caring to everyone but seems to give you extra attention. 

Mucho- He observes you a lot for awhile, trying to figure out his own feelings and what he really wants. He's a pretty straight forward guy though so when he's ready he'll approach you and ask if you want to accompany him to a cafe at some point. 

Sanzu- He also observes you but in a different way, he wants to know everything about you before he makes his move. Also has a habit of leaving gifts for you in your post box. Also wants to make sure you're safe and no one messes with what he finds precious. 

Naoto- Always does little things for you to show his crush, like getting you an extra bottle of water after he buys one and helping you with whatever you need.

Hanma- He finds it very amusing that he even has a crush. He actually kinda tries to scare you away, well not scare you exactly, more like he shows you his more extreme side as a test. He figures you might as well see the real him now before anything happens between the two of you (his way of avoiding you breaking his heart if you change your mind). He's serious about his feelings when they're this strong. Once you get that over point though then he's constantly teasing you and casually touches you a lot.

Kazutora- Worries a lot about this and actually tries to avoid you to get rid of the crush. He hasn't exactly had a lot of healthy examples of relationships in his life so this concerns him a bit, thinks you're too good for someone like him. However the feelings are too strong so he does eventually confess, he figures you can turn him down then you'll all be done. He'd be pretty surprised if you actually said yes though. 

Inui- Finds the crush to be troublesome. He straight up asks you out on a date, so the two of you can go out and he can realise he doesn't actually like you (he's in a lot of denial)

Taiju- He has 0 doubts about you wanting to date him or at least that's what he tells himself. Is a bit unsure deep down though. He tries to make himself look better to you.

Izana- Also wants your attention to only be on him, he sees you as being his so you should focus on him. Actually gets a little flustered when you do focus on him and praise him though. He likes it but freezes up a little since he's not used to it.

Kakucho- Tries to do small acts of kindess for you, he wants you to trust him and love him too. He's just so caring and gentle towards you, always offering you soft smiles.

Ran- Straight up flirts with you, he kinda makes it hard for you to know if he's being serious or not though. He hides behind his wit and charisma. Touches you casually a lot too, thinking nothing of getting close to you. 

Rindou- Is a lot more unsure then Ran, he tries to flirt with you too but frequently gets too flustered or accidentally messes up his lines. It kinda works in his favour though since it feels a lot more genuine. 

Mochi- Shares a lot of things with you, both verbally and physically. He tells you a lot about himself and asks you a lot of questions. And is always sharing food and drinks with you (blushes slightly at every indirect kiss)

Shion- Follows you around like a lost puppy, he tries to make you laugh a lot too by telling jokes. Will sometimes boast about himself as a way to impress you. 

South- Is more gentle with you then anyone else, always asks you about your day and how things are going. He really want to sing or play the piano for you but hasn't quite gotten the words out to ask you yet.

Wakasa- Always wants to hang out with you and will conveniently "forget" to invite the others so it ends up being just the two of you. Will also lean on you a lot or casually lay his head in your lap for a nap. He wants to be close to you even if he hasn't gotten around to confessing yet.

Benkei- Always complimenting you even when you're not around, all his friends know how much he likes you because of how much he talks about you. 

Shinichiro- He uses so many cheesy pick up lines on you, he found a big book of them and is convinced he can win you over with them. He also invites to the shop a lot to hang out (and as a way to impress you with his bike skills).

[damiansgoodgirll]

i knew i had to make a part two so here we go

damian priest x reader

here’s part one if you missed it - what i always wanted

what i always wanted pt. 2

“is everything okay?” rhea knocked on the bedroom door for the fifth time in two hours. you locked yourself in the room when you found out that you were pregnant. you didn’t want to see anyone as your mind was racing and you weren’t thinking straight.

rhea knew something was wrong. you never locked yourself in before and even when you were too sad to talk, you were always available in case rhea needed you.

so yes, it was weird for her to have you locked in a room.

“y/n please…can you say something?” she asked again, desperate. you knew well that she was capable of tearing the door down.

“uhm…can i please stay alone rhea?” you were sitting on the bed. the pregnancy test still in your hands.

“no”

“rhea…”

“no, let me in or i’ll break the goddamn door!”

you didn’t want to argue anymore so you simply unlocked the door and let her in, leaving the pregnancy test on the bed.

“so what’s going on?” she asked before eyeing the bed and seeing the test laying on it “no way…is it…is it positive?” she asked and you nodded, tears in your eyes again “is it damian’s?” she asked again and once again you nodded.

she knew the answer. she wanted you to confirm it.

“he doesn’t know yet right?”

“he doesn’t have to know rhea!” you almost screamed.

“don’t you think that he’s gonna find out eventually…” she said, sitting on the bed next to you.

“i don’t want him to know…he’ll get with me again just for the kid and i don’t want that, i absolutely don’t want that! it was pretty clear he didn’t want to raise a family with me but i know he will be feeling guilty if he knew he left me pregnant and alone…” you said, tears falling from your eyes “he’s the only man i’ve ever loved but i can’t force him to be with me…”

“do you think he doesn’t love you anymore?” she asked and you slightly nodded “oh girl…you couldn’t be more wrong…he’s broken without you, i see it everytime we are training together, he can’t stop asking me about you…he wants you back but he’s too scared”

“that’s why we broke up in the first place rhea! when i talked about a possible pregnancy he took a step back, being too scared to even have that conversation with me! i - i don’t know if i can handle a pregnancy without him but i don’t want him back just because of this…” you told her, rhea understanding your position.

“you two need to meet and talk. like real fucking adults. he would never back up from this, not only for the baby but because of you, he loves you, he wants you back, he’s sure you hate him and he rather be a ghost in your life that having you telling him that you hate him, you two need to meet. right, fucking, now” rhea said and even if her words shocked you a bit, you knew she was right.

“i’m texting him…”

“good! i’ll leave you alone, i’m going out for a few hours, need to do groceries, text me if you need me here okay?”

“okay” you smiled at her.

you composed a little, drying your tears and fixing your make up a little, at least to look presentable.

damian swore he missed a heartbeat when he saw your name popping up on his phone. you wanted to meet him at rhea’s place and he couldn’t wait for it.

he almost ran to his car when he saw the text message.

not even twenty minutes later you heard a knock on the front door.

taking a few deep breaths you stood up to open the door.

“whatever happens, it’s me and you little bean” you whispered and smiled softly touching your belly before letting him in.

“hey…” he slowly greeted you.

“hi”

“how are you?” he felt awkward. like he didn’t know what to say.

“i’ve…i’ve been better…”

“yeah…” an uncomfortable silence before he started talking again “so, you wanted to see me?”

“yes…there’s something i have to tell you, why don’t we sit on the couch?” you asked and he nodded so you led him into the big living room.

he sat in front of you, his eyes never leaving your face.

“y/n…i’m…”

“no damian, please, let me talk…it’s really important and…uhm, well, it’s something you have every right to know…” you said, never meeting his eyes.

“okay…”

“damian i’m pregnant.”

silence.

an awkward and uncomfortable silence.

“you…are pregnant” he repeated and you nodded “and it’s mine” he said. not asked, he was sure that the baby was his baby.

“i know you didn’t want that and i…”

“i love you y/n” he interrupted you “i never stopped loving you and the day we broke up was the saddest day of my life…i can’t believe i’ve even been so stupid to let you go…that’s the biggest mistake i’ve ever made” you were speechless “i want a family with you, i want our house to be full of kids…” he slowly got up and knelt in front of you “i want to wake up to our baby crying because they’re hungry, or because of a nightmare…i want to hold them while they are sleeping, i want to have a family with you, i’ve been too scared to admit it to myself, and for that i let you go and lost you…”

“you could never lose me damian…”

“i lost you the moment i broke up with you…” he says crying a little.

“you hurt me, a lot…and it will time to forgive you but i can’t live without you here, i love you so much damian and i missed you so bad these past weeks…”

“i love you, i want you back and i’ll fight through hell if i have to” he said making you smile.

“what about the baby?”

“i want this, i want this y/m, i’m serious…i want to have a cute little family with you, i want to be a dad, and i know you’ll be an amazing mom, i just know it…” he sat back on the couch next to you, taking your hands into his bigger ones “let’s do this, let’s have this baby together, cause i ain’t leaving you…”

you smiled, thinking about how you missed him and now that you had him again.

“let’s go back home” he said and you nodded, having him to lead you back home.

the little home where you will be growing an amazing family together.

———————————————

part 3