#so obviously he accepted in a heartbeat

[gelly-fsh]

Sorry but I just cannot stop thinking about President of the United States Remus Lupin, considered one of the most popular and handsome bachelor of his time (like why and how is he still single?) Gets a little sweet surprise for his birthday.

All of the US most powerful people are reunited in the event to celebrate President's Lupin birthday. They auditorium is packed to the brim, Prime Minister and best friend of the President James Potter just finished giving a speech about Remus, but he doesn't leave the stage. Instead, he gives that wicked smile of his that only meant mischief.

"Ladies and Gentleman, it is my great honor to present someone who really wants to wish our dear President a happy birthday. For all of you, Sirius Black!"

Enter Sirius Black, one of the most famous actors of his time, a symbol of beauty and sexiness and all things carnal and desirable, covered in a big white fur coat while he delicately walks to the podium.

Everyone is holding their breaths, and most of them end out choking on their breaths when Sirius removes the coat from his body, revealing a beautiful dress that was filled with diamonds, every curve of his body was hugged just right, the definition of desire.

He carefully moves the microphone to his height, dainty fingers covered in delicate gloves, and everyone could hear how he took a small breath before smiling sultrily.

"Happy....birthday to you

Happy Birthday to you

Happy birthday, Mr. President" the song felt intimate, way too intimate, but Sirius Black didn't care, and by the enraptured gaze the President had, neither did President Lupin

"Thanks, Mr. President

For all the things you've done"

The song was rather short, it was like it finished in a blink of an eye, but you were not able to forget any moment of it either. The movements, the seductive voice, the garment that made Sirius look like he wore nothing at all.

That night was historical, and everyone knew it.

After that, there was obviously rumors of the relationship between US beloved President and US beloved icon, and if President Lupin had invited Sirius Black to his quarters in the White House after the gala, it was something History would have to question forever.

[seresinhangmanjake]

Different is Better

Tyler Owens x Reader

Summary: Javi invites your ex back with Storm Par amidst the flirtation between you and Tyler. 

Notes/Warnings: This was a combination of requests, so it's not exactly what everyone asked for, but I got it as close as I could, sp hopefully it satisfies in some ways. Allusion to smut. Cursing probably. Scott sucks (sorry to the Scott lovers), Javi sucks a little too (sorry to the Javi lovers).

Words: 2850

Tyler Owens Masterlist / Main Masterlist / Tag list

The second the Storm Par team finishes settling on the schedule for tomorrow, you remove yourself from the rest of the chasers in the parking lot, Wranglers included, and press your back into the outer wall of the motel. Perfectly out of sight and free to feel how you want without judgment.

You can’t breathe around him. You can’t think properly. And damn him for fucking loving it. Damn the smirk that slices into your skin. Damn fucking Javi for requesting his participation on the team after swearing up and down that he wouldn’t. Damn him for not warning you, forcing you to spend the last half-hour since his arrival in wild discomfort.

It had been so good without him. The best chasing you’d done in years. Relaxing, free from tension despite the chaos of rolling into the heart of unpredictable weather. In his absence, you chased with excitement; you chased with that tingly zingy feeling in your gut; you chased with a pounding heart, with hands shaky not from nerves but from raw, untainted energy shooting throughout your entire body. 

The last two months of chasing renewed your love of the craft and proved more than anything that Scott has been—and still is—a soul-sucking, life-draining leech….to you, anyway. 

But everyone already loves him, just short of instantly obsessed with him, especially the females of the group who neglect that ‘award-winning’ personality he’s managed to display in only thirty-two minutes. Shamefully, it almost makes you wish the team Javi assembled had fewer young college girls and a heck of a lot more mature, determined women. They would easily see past his looks and recognize that his intelligence does not surpass that of anyone else on the team. He is not some rare, fascinating, genius savior who has come to solve all of the data-collecting problems the team’s been having; he’s just an extra helping hand that, frankly, you firmly believe you don’t need. 

But no…as has been the case each time you’ve worked together since you ended your little college fling—or whatever the fuck it was—he gets to be Mr. Perfect, and you’re stuck as the angsty bitch who whines over him being here. 

“So…that’s the guy, huh?” Tyler asks as he rounds the corner and joins you under the cover of near-darkness. 

He practically shines under the damaged streetlamp’s thin, flickering light. You’re not looking at him, but you don’t have to be to see that much clearly. He glows in your peripherals, and with another step closer to you, your heartbeat stumbles within your ribcage. 

Tyler is the one thing you credit for reviving you. What started as a less-than-friendly rivalry changed when you accepted a challenge to chase with his crew one day, and though Javi was displeased, you were too curious about Tyler’s methods to turn him down. 

With one ride in his truck, the spark you thought had long died reignited. Now you have a respect for Tyler that the rest of your team does not. Respect…and a bit more. 

Though you would never abandon your team, you became increasingly hooked on the idea of chasing with Tyler again, and it was so stupidly obvious. And with that obviousness, an unspoken essence of sorts developed between you. A forbidden attraction you’re both aware of but have yet to fully act on, though not for lack of trying.

You take turns almost breaking that final barrier—heavy breathing, noses nearly brushing, lips a hairs-width away from connecting, but something always gets in the way: his team, yours, the weather. But not this time. Cock-block of the day? Scott Miller. 

Tyler’s eyes stay on your cheek as he stuffs his hands into his front jean’s pockets. “I didn’t know that was your type.”

When you look at Tyler, your brows knit at the disappointment on his face. He offers a smile, but it’s far less convincing than what he is capable of, like he didn’t even bother trying to give you one of his good ones. And you’ve seen a good smile from Tyler Owens. It can knock anyone off their feet. 

“It isn’t,” you tell him as you turn your attention back to the miles of grass in front of you. At night, under such little light, the eye gets tricked and the blades blend into a vast span of blackness, like a giant hole in the ground just a few feet away. One you might consider jumping into it if you could. 

“I mean, it was,” you continue, “but not anymore.”

He nods. “You have to work close with him?” he asks, though he already knows the answer.

“Unfortunately.”

Tyler blows out a breath. His hand runs through his hair before his head falls back against the brick wall of the motel, eyes closed and chin tilted toward the night sky. 

“Fuck,” he mutters. 

“Yea.”

Cicadas fill the following silence. Lightning bugs sprinkle throughout the space around you, thriving in the intense humidity that adds a thin sheen to your skin. You can see him thinking. Questioning. His fingers tap against his clothed thigh and your stomach clenches with dread. The last thing you want—the thing that would crush you—is Tyler sizing up whether or not you are worth the trouble of an ex even cockier than he is and more arrogant than you once believed him to be. One thing Tyler and Scott have in common: the adoring attention from young women. You’ve heard the stories from Lilly and Boone, and at any point, Tyler could tip his hat in adieu and return to his many fans to seek the encounters you’ve been hoping to share with him.  

Tyler turns his head to you. “You still like him? At all?”

“No,” you answer, trying not to be offended by the question he has a right to ask. To you, it’s absurd, insulting. To him, it’s covering his bases and understanding what, if anything, he is getting in between by pursuing you, or considering pursuing you. “The way he approaches relationships mimics the way he approaches chasing,” you continue. “Controlling, nit-picky, demanding. I couldn't stand it.” He’s nothing like you, you want to say, but for some reason, don’t.

Your heart’s discomfort eases with the slow spread of a smile across his face. You step toward him. “Look, Tyler, I know we haven’t really talked about us, but I–”

“There you are. I was starting to think I ran you off.”

The intruding voice snatches your attention and Tyler immediately pushes off the wall, positioning himself closer to your side. “I'm not sure you're threatening enough for that,” he says. 

Scott smirks, one eyebrow arching. “And you are?”

“Tyler,” he says, reaching out his hand in a play-nice gesture. “Owens.”

Realization dawns on Scott. “Oh, of course,” he replies, a mocking grin forming as he accepts the handshake. When he takes his hand back, he crosses his arms and cocks his head to the side. “Your reputation precedes you. How many followers have you managed to stack up by playing around for entertainment?”

“Subscribers,” Tyler corrects. “A mil.”

“Must be validating after failing to make it professionally.”

Your gut twists, fists almost clenching, but you restrain yourself from showing his effect on you. “That’s not why he does what he does,” you scold your ex sternly. Tyler’s head whips to you. You can just barely detect the gentle smile on his face. 

Scott hums, nonchalantly advancing closer to hover over you. His eyes penetrate like lasers into yours. “You know, you should really think before you fraternize. You wouldn’t want to make us look bad,” he says, running a knuckle down your cheek. You flinch away from his touch and he grins. “That’s all,” he says. “Good night, you two” And then he turns on his heel and returns from where he came. 

“Charming,” Tyler sarcastically snips. “I see the appeal.”

—

He fucking left you behind. 

You were trying to finish up his job after he failed to properly secure Javi’s tech, but as you were doing so, the tornado’s size grew and its speed picked up and it was headed right for you. Scott screamed at you, panicked in a way you’ve never heard before, but when you weren’t quick enough for his liking, he slammed your door and drove off, leaving you to looming disaster. 

If not for Tyler, you’d be dead. He spotted you in his crew’s attempt to flee, and though it was an insane risk, he came for you, leaping out of his truck and grabbing you as he yelled for Boone to take the wheel. 

He practically threw you into the back seat before crawling in after you and wrapping your shivering body in his arms.

“Tyler, man, I don’t know if we’re gonna be able to outrun it!” Boone called back, eyes darting between the blurry road in front of him and the rearview mirror. 

“Then drill us into the fucking ground!”

And that’s where you stayed, huddled together, your face in his neck as the storm tried to tear you apart. 

—

Are you out of your fucking mind!” Tyler shouts, stomping through the parking lot of the motel refuge. 

To your relief, the small, aged structure was out of the tornado's path, if just barely, and in the aftermath, the owner offered free rooms to those in need. Except for Boone, who holds you steady as Tyler storms off, the Wranglers pass out whatever shirts and food they have available, providing what comfort they can.

Javi inserts himself between Tyler and Scott, his hands up to keep Tyler back. “Woah, woah, calm down.”

“He could’ve fucking killed her!”

Javi’s concerned brow settles from shock. “W-What?” he asks. “What are you talking about?”

Tyler’s as vicious as a lion, his teeth bared, claws out as he tries to side-step Javi to get to Scott, who has backed up a step. “He left her out there!”

You can see the Adam’s apple bob in your ex’s throat. His composure is on edge. He’s never been called out before, not even by you. “She was being stupid.”

“She was doing your job!”

Scott scoffs as Javi blinks, trying to adjust to the rapid-fire information being thrown at him. He’s never been good at an onslaught of facts, needing that adjustment period for things to properly sink in. He’s careful that way. It’s his methodical mind. He takes his time with his planning, and that extends past his inventions. “Look, everyone’s safe. Everyone’s tired. Let’s just get some rest and we can deal with this tomorrow.”

“You’re letting him stay? After what he did?”

“Right now, no one has anywhere to go,” Javi explains, and though true, it doesn’t mean Scott has to remain here now that the threat is gone. Javi’s eyes dart past Tyler’s shoulder to your shaken form. He sighs an exhale that deflates his entire chest, his eyes close, and he shakes his head. He brought this on. He knows it. Scott was a mistake, and while it wasn’t Javi who put you in danger, you don’t mind him absorbing some of the guilt of what happened. “Just…take care of her.”

Tyler huffs and says, “That’s more than you people do,” before turning around and coming for you. Boone passes you off with a nod. Tyler’s arm goes around your body, his hand rubbing up and down your bicep. You wonder where he stored the rage so quickly, but you appreciate that he didn’t set any of it aside for you. After all, you’re the reason he almost died. You’re the reason his friend almost died. Just because it was not a potential consequence of your choices, the stress of near death can keep anyone on edge. But not Tyler, apparently. He has other priorities.

“Come on,” Tyler says. “Let’s get you cleaned up.” And he guides you to your room, the very same one you’ve been tempted to invite him to since your first chase together. You didn’t imagine this was how he would come to join you.

—

Tyler’s jaw slackens when you exit the bathroom in a small towel that barely covers your body, and he quickly rises from where he is sitting at the end of your mattress, wiping his palms on his jeans as if to remove the moisture collected there. His eyes go wide, but they can’t seem to meet yours, his green orbs trailing up and down your body. 

“They’re a bit short,” you tell him.

“Yea, I, uh,” His hand runs over his hair down to his neck. “I know,” he says, instantly conjuring the image of a bare Tyler, water droplets covering his skin, a measly towel wrapped around his waist held together by one hand; a hand that, if removed, would cause the towel to drop to the ratty carpeting. “Do you, um…you need anything? I can try to get you–”

“No,” you stop him. “I’m alright.” A beat passes, and then he nods and blows out a breath. “Thank you, for saving me. You didn’t have to risk yourself like that.”

His eyes find yours then. “You can’t possibly think that I wouldn’t.”

“I know you’re kinder than most. Braver than most. But you’re not stupid, and saving me was a bit–”

“Don’t say that. I’d do it again,” he says. When he steps toward you, the towel suddenly feels much smaller. You feel exposed under his gaze, but to your surprise, not embarrassed. Scott had a way of making you feel less than in what seemed like a thousand different ways, but not Tyler. His eyes marvel. “And again.”

You take a deep breath, releasing it slowly out your nose. 

“Are you still shaken up?” Tyler asks you. 

You shake your head. “Not really.”

He stops directly in front of you. “Can I finally kiss you then?”

Your lips part. The towel falls, not necessarily with intention, but you can’t hold the thing up and wrap your arms around his neck at the same time. And, right now, one is more important than the other. 

Tyler tastes like the cola from your fridge that he must’ve had while he waited for you in the shower. His teeth nibble at your bottom lip, and you open for him. His hands settle on your bare waist for what seems like all of two seconds before they’re sliding lower, squeezing flesh, and pulling you in closer. Your fingers pick at the buttons of his shirt, the first few coming free. 

“You sure about this?” is muffled out between kisses.

You pull apart just long enough to say yes before you’re kissing him again, helping him out of his clothes, and falling into bed together. 

—

A knock wakes you. You turn over under Tyler’s arm and, careful not to wake him, rise from the bed. You grab his shirt off the nearby chair and pull it over your head, then slip on some sleep shorts before heading for the door. 

Javi smiles when he sees you, a sense of relief allowing the muscles to release their tension in his body. “Hey,” he says before his eyes fall down to your—Tyler’s—shirt. He raises a brow. 

You shrug. “I like him.”

Javi clicks his tongue. A modest sign of disapproval. “Right, well…I just came by to apologize and let you know that I kicked Scott off the team. He left about an hour ago.”

You hum in acknowledgment. At least you’ll avoid the drama of your ex figuring out you ‘fraternized’ with the leader of the other team. Being storm chasers, dramatics runs through your blood, and it’s not as if Tyler would shy away from any remarks Scott may throw at him or you, but this just happens to be one issue you’d rather not waste the energy on. It’s not his business, anyway.

“Thanks, Javi.”

“I really am sorry,” he says. “I never would’ve imagined he’d–”

“I know. Me either.”

Javi sighs in the silence that follows, then he says, “You sure about Owens?”

You nod. “I’m sure about Owens.”

“I guess we can’t be on opposite sides then, can we?”

“That would be nice,” you say. Javi gives you another smile. “They’re not so bad. I mean, I know they do stuff…differently, but they don’t leave anyone behind.” When a twinge of guilt flashes across his face, you say, “It wasn’t your fault.”

You can’t tell if he believes that’s how you truly feel, but as you nod in reassurance of that statement, he nods with you. 

“Ok,” he says. 

“Ok,” you repeat, and then with one final grin, Javi disappears down the hall. 

You close the door and strip yourself of the clothes you’d thrown on to get back into bed. Tyler’s still asleep. His breathing is soft, even, comforting, and luckily, your spot beside him has maintained its warmth from where you’d been laying all night. 

“I’m sure about you, too,” he suddenly says, voice groggy and eyes remaining closed. He lifts his arm, and you tuck yourself back into his embrace. 

[elllisaaa]

in ur last svt post (which made me fold btw) you mentioned you love doing bf thoughts (and we love reading them!!) so i’m gonna be the one to do it… any dirty bf!wonwoo headcanons sweetie? 🫣

not me dropping two wonwoo asks in one day like i’m not hansol biased i’m gonna run away 🏃‍♀️ he’s so husband material tho (getting back into my svt phase is fun 🙂‍↕️)

lmaoo honestly it's valid being whipped for wonwoo, i am too even though i'm a seokmin and chan girlie (hansol is coming at me these days though...)

BF!WONWOO who's a silent lover, but who loves you so much that everyone can see who smitten by you he is.

another member of seventeen that i think is a very good listener. wonwoo is always ready to listen to you when you need to talk, be that because something funny happened to you or because you had a bad day. and he's also really good at giving you advice when you have a problem. he strikes me as someone who's emotionally smart, so it isn't difficult for him to know that you're sad without you having to tell hims. sometimes he'll notice that you're not doing well and he will prepare you a little snack and deliver it with a kiss and a sweet "i love you, i'm here if you need to talk." that almost makes you tear up from how caring he is. also, wonwoo's hugs must feel incredibly good, like being engulfed in a warm bubble of love that's so soothing you immediately relax in his embrace. you could literally spend your whole life hugging him because it's genuinely the best feeling in the world.

"it's okay darling, i'm here now. everything is going to be alright."

wonwoo would love to play video games with you. it's good if you are already into it, but it would be even better if you don't because he would love to teach you how to play his favourite games. he would even use it as an excuse to make you sit on his lap while he's trying to show you how to play. from there, you would often play together, but it's also not rare for you to simply sit in wonwoo's lap and watch him play, or take a nap there, lulled to sleep by his breathing and heartbeat. one of his favourite ways to spend a date night at home with you is playing board games. you'd pick out one or two games together, make yourself some tea and prepare snacks and then you'll spend your night playing together. the members often joke about how the two of you are like an old couple but you don't care because what matters is that you're having fun during these game nights. also, wonwoo loves to just stay at home with you, all cozy in your matching pajamas and getting to see you all relaxed. he obviously loves it when you're dressing up when the two of you are going out, but you're the most beautiful to him with only a big beautiful smile on your face.

"let's just watch a movie tonight, i don't want to see other people, only you."

he's adamant on reminding you of how beautiful you are every single day. and that's the way he says it that makes you blush - like it's the most natural thing ever and that it's obvious. however, when it's your turn to praise wonwoo, he gets shy and bashful, and you literally have to fight him to get him to accept the compliment. but wonwoo loves your insistence on adoring him and he loves the attention - he's down bad for you, but it's good to know that you're down bad for him as well. he would often take photos of you without you noticing when he thinks you look particularly pretty. he won't show these pictures to you, but he has folder of them on his phone and on his computer too, and he looks at them when he's away from you and that he misses you. wonwoo would put all these secret photos into a pretty album he made and decorated himself, and he would gift it to you for your anniversary. overall, he would gift you a lot of mindful things like these, and you keep all of them in a little box under your bed.

"when did you take this one nonu ?" - "when we went to the botanical garden, you were so pretty that day."

BF!WONWOO who's a service top and who loves to please you, but who can also get a little bit mean when he wants to.

wonwoo definitely loves cockwarming with you. when you sit on his lap while he's playing video games, it's not impossible that he'll end up pushing your panties to the side and slipping his cock inside of you, not moving at all. he just loves the intimacy of it, how much you trust him and relax into his touch immediately. but it's impossible to not get hard when your pussy feels this wet and this warm, nor when you're sometimes clenching around him. wonwoo usually gives up pretty quickly, because he loves the feeling as much as you. most of the time, he would grip your hips and help you drop down on his cock slowly until the both of you cum. but when he's feeling more needy, he would bend you over his desk and fuck you rough from behind until you're screaming his name. but sometimes, you can stay like this for a long time, even managing to fall asleep because it feels so warm and safe to be so close to him. it's the way you feel so comfortable around him that gets him going mostly.

"just sit on my cock for while baby, then i'll fuck you, okay ?"

overall, wonwoo just loves to please you in every way he can. he's inflexible about foreplay because he loves to have you cumming at least once before he fucks you - his girl should get as much orgasms as possible because you only deserve the best. he woul often keep his glasses on while eating you out, because even if it's the most comfortable for him, he knows how crazy you go when he looks up at you through the fogged lenses and how hot you think he is when he has them on. wonwoo prefers positions where he can see your face as he fucks you, so missionary is a must with him. he loves to see your face contort when you're close to the edge, and he loves to watch you as he brings you to your orgasm - your pretty expressions and the sounds you make often enough to trigger his own release. again, he loves how close he can be to you in this position, chest and forehead pressed against each other's, whispering praises and love confessions against your lips while he ruts his hips into you deep.

"you're so pretty darling… so fucking pretty like this."

despite him being very romantic, he also knows how much you like it when he shows you how strong he is. wonwoo would definitely manhandle you into bending over for him if that's what you want - and he's not gonna lie by saying that he doesn't like it when you become all putty in his hands because he's holding your hands firmly behind your back. it's quite good for his ego too to hear you gush about how attractive he is, how hot his strength and his muscles are. wonwoo also uses it to his advantage when you've been a little tease or that he's frustrated. all these hours spent at the gym are worth it when it allows him to hold you down against the mattress while he pounds into you until you're crying out his name and that tears are running down your face. of course, he's always mindful of any signs of discomfort when he's rougher, but you both love it when wonwoo doesn't hold back and ruins you. it feels rewarding to know that he can make his girl scream his name so loud that the neighbors complain the next day.

"i'm not gonna let you go until you're dripping baby, i need to have you again."

[r3ynah]

Extended Family

DCxDP

An Au where, Maddie is Damian and Danyal, Biological mother besides Talia, Basically Talia and Maddie(+Jack) both grew up in LOA and were very best friends(lovers?? at some point including Jack). Talia wanted a natural birth for her son, as she was not really fond of the idea of a test tube baby. so she asked Maddie a favour to become a surrogate. which Maddie happily accepted. because of her experience with Jazz and Danyal's birth, Talia was sure Maddie can give birth to her son safely.

This was approved by Ra's Because he deemed Maddie as someone that could be trusted due to her becoming one of the most strongest and smart assassins in the LOA(He was fond of her, like really really fond.) So he accepted his daughter proposal for Maddie to become the surrogate.

And then Damian was born, Jazz and Danny basically loved Damian and would not go anywhere but the baby's side. Jack loved taking care of Damian due to Maddie and Talia not knowing how to take care of a baby with physical affection.(basically house husband behavior,).

As the kids grew they become closer through the years until you know, it wasn't safe for them in the LOA anymore so they helped Damian escape first to his Bio dad's place(They did let him pick though, if he wanted to stay with the fenton-nightangles or go to Bruce, he chose the latter because if something happened to them he'll have connections.) and then Maddie and Jack escaped with their children in a random town named Amity park. which turns out was a hotspot for Lazarus pits or Ectoplasm. (They decided to change the name cause everytime Jack hears the word pits he started laughing).

The children of course never severed their communication throughout the years. And Bruce never asked about his life at the LOA so he never introduced his half siblings.

Damian hated his older brother, Danyal with all his might. if you asked him to choose between his Half-sister Jazz or Danyal. He'll choose Jazz in a heartbeat.

He hated him, because of his foolishness and absolute neglect of his surroundings, making him a easy prey amongst people who wants to take advantage of him. He disliked Danyal's poor choices in life especially now.

The youngest wayne stood in the middle of one of the many hallways of his highschool as he stared at a certain, black haired and blue eyed girl, who was waving at him ecstatically, he contemplated if he should fight the girl head on or just run and escape.

Obviously in this situation he would pick the most desirable option to make sure his day wasn't ruined by his older brother, so he picked the latter. Damian dashed through the hallways, making sure to lose the girl before the third period started. He slowed down as he looked warily at his surroundings his back against the storage room incase he needed a hiding place from that test tube spawn.

When suddenly a pair of arms phased through the door embracing Damian as he tried to escape.

The girl giggled as she kept her hold on the older boy who tried to get her off him. "Hi uncle Damian!"

she greeted as she finally let go making space for the boy to take a step back.

"Danielle. Why are you here, Did Danyal send you to pester me?" He glared at his niece, as he kept his guard up.

"Kind of, mama sent me here to check up on you." She explained "You kinda went MIA when you stopped answering his texts and calls."

"This is absurd, I can take care of myself. him thinking something happened to me for not answering his calls is offending, I am not like him." Damian stated as he finally lowered his guard. And started to walk away expecting for Elle to follow to which she did.

"Eh.. You know him, His just paranoid he always is" Elle exclaimed as she looked at her schedule. "What's your next class Uncle?"

"Math."

"Ooh Yey! We're classmates, let's sit together!"

A groan left Damian as Elle chuckled and continued to look at her class schedule beside him, Peaceful quietness welcomed the two as they walked to their shared class.

——

"Do you have a apartment nearby?" Damian asked as he stood up from his table waiting for Elle as she packed her notebooks, only filled with doodles from both party.

"Nope, Mama requested that we move here for easier transport but i didn't wanna bother with all the moving stuff." Elle explained as she finished tidying up. "Beside I can just fly back and forth, what's the use of my powers if I can't abuse em."

"Your logic is as worse as Danyal." Damian exclaimed as they both headed out the door. "Follow along. you'll be staying at my manor this week."

"Why?" Elle asked suspiciously

"Because, It is a tiring job to use your flight ability for something so stupid." The boy explained.

"Is that really all?"

"Ofcourse not, As your uncle it's my job to keep you energized and unbothered, But as your mother's brother its my duty to annoy him for thinking i was in danger. so I'm basically taking you hostage at the manor." Damian grinned, as he took his niece's hand to make sure she doesn't get lost through the maze of hallways

"So basically kidnapping? I'm in."

——

"Master Damian, welcome home." Alfred greeted as he opened the front door. "And who might you be?"

"Hello Alfred, This is Danielle your Great-granddaughter." Damian said, making Alfred raise his eyebrows slightly before returning to his relaxed state.

"Well, nice to meet you Lady Danielle" Alfred greeted with a smile, as he shook her hand.

"Please call me Elle, Alfred" Elle brightly smiled

"Very well then Lady Elle." Alfred chuckled.

"Is father home yet?" Damian asked

"No not yet master Damian, you two may go to the living room as I prepare the guest room for Lady Elle." Alfred exclaimed as he headed to the kitchen to finish what he was doing.

Elle looked at Damian, Damian looked at Elle.

"I can feel my phone vibrating from my bag." She laughed. Her mother Danny was certainly going to be sad that his little brother kidnapped his daughter for a Uncle and niece Hangout.

[acid-ixx]

Now that someone mentioned Connor as a possible love interest I think he will be a good choice. He obviously feels a similar kind of anger at his own father(s) so they could connect thanks to it. And his super hearing and other abilities will make it possible for him to always know when something is wrong with reader. I see reader being in shock that someone wants to be there for them and dismissing any yandere tendencies, toxic traits in favour of keeping Connors attention. Not like they could loose it no matter what they do, Connor is to obsessed and I could see him being dependent on his darling.

a/n: since i am more familiar with the animated series (young justice) for conner kent and i feel your ask is describing his version so i'm basing it off of him! but yes you are so fr in this. i will never not go too far when it comes to rambling, i love long asks hehe.

it was temporarily stated in chapter one that you had your momentary bouts of anger and that in itself already paved its way into conner's heart because of course most would be put off with the rage that he kindles within. you two would really be some sort of match made in heaven— it's like you deeply understand the intensity of his emotion, and you both share that bond nobody could deter; it being anger towards your parent/s and the inability to be accepted or nor noticed/your feelings being invalidated most of the time.

but because of the level of power between you, you being human and him literally being a carbon copy of superman, conner would be incredibly overprotective and possessive of you. and i'm not just implying that he would give anyone within a fifty mile radius a death glare, no, you would literally be glued to his figure all the time.

that means a hand on either your shoulders, your waist, or hips. if you were the shy type, then expect him always holding your hands or wrist. but if you don't mind the weird display of pda, then you'll be lucky enough to have the rights to smother your face in his chest whenever and wherever— sometimes that would even be his go signal to tell anybody off whenever you feel the slightest bit of discomfort.

but other than the advantages of being with him (protective guard dog 24/7), you would pretty much lose every sense of independence nor privacy. which isn't losing much since you already have your mad family on your tail constantly tracking you down and probably a huge bounty on your head— but at least you have your boyfriend with you, right?

with the lack of attention you were given to as a child, one given willingly without the need to ask for is basically a heaven for you. and with his powers? babe, you don't even need to ask for him to take you away to somewhere safer because he could already hear your heartbeats thumping louder and louder.

speaking of superhearing; a way to calm your boyfriend down quickly and efficiently would be laying his head on your chest. you'd probably discover the method later on your relationship, but as much as conner loves to hear your heartbeats from any distance, he loves it all the more when the only barrier that keeps him away from your beating heart would be your skin and your ribcage.

since conner was raised with the lack of physical contact and he's the type to push people away, your physical affection towards him is something he doesn't even know he craves, not until he tastes it for himself.

you wouldn't even feel the need to tell creeps off anymore! because conner is out there intimidating every person who dares to show the slightest bit of romantic intentions towards you.

so really, is it so bad if he wants you all for himself?

you both eventually gain a codependent relationship with each other— but it's not like any of you would leave each other wanting for more, because you both are more than enough for each other.

and conner thinks it's better off if it would only be the two of you in this world.

screw your family.

[latenightdaydreams]

I can't stop thinking about Mafia Konig who never let his wife wear bras because once she complained about how uncomfortable her bra is. And he just loves to circle his finger on her nips through the fabric whenever they have meetings with allies, in front of everyone! But if any guys dare to make dirty jokes about her body (how plump her ass is, how round her breasts are, etc) he will shoot that mfker in the middle of his eyebrows in a heartbeat. That's so disrespectful respectfully 😩😍😍 thank you for accepting a lot of my previous requests, love youuuuu🎀🎀🎀

Ofc!!! 🩷🩷 I love breast man König

Mafia!König x Braless!Wife (fem)

MDNI🔞

Master List

>cw fem/afab, blood, gun violence, groping

1.0k word count

.

.

König has always loved the fact that you are a curvy woman. When he first saw you, you were dating one of his associates. He charmed you with his Austrian accent and icy blue eyes. Soon he had you coming to his office late at night, buying you expensive gifts, and bringing you home. One day, your ex showed up at a meeting with his boss, König, to just see you sitting on his lap. Your breasts were so large and filled his hands, and he knew you were his. Your body is just perfect for him. He can never keep his hands off of you; no matter what. That’s why he married you after only six months.

Your breasts are so large, bras are very uncomfortable. The underwire is always digging into you, the straps never feeling right on your shoulders. Sports bras never fitting right, always too tight. That’s when you approached König about the idea of giving up bras all together.

Obviously, he agreed quickly. Bras were only another barrier in between him and those bouncy, perfect pair of tits. König bought you light colored or sheer fabric tops and dresses. Your breasts are marvelous and deserve to be shown off.

König, seats you on his lap, you’re wearing a cream-colored shirt that clings to the curve of your breast naturally sitting on your chest. One of his hands is busy sifting through papers. The other squeezes your breast. Fingers slowly rubbing circles around your hardened nipple. You squirm over his erection as you lean your head back on his shoulder.

“Sit still, Liebling.” König whispers into your ear, his warm lips kiss your neck tenderly before looking away.

The table you’re sitting at has seven men seated, associates of König. They all look at your breast, watching as König’s finger begins to pinch and tug at your nipple that is visible through your shirt. They all share glances with one another; eyebrows raised with cheeky smirks across their lips. Some men had to adjust themselves as they watched König’s display of affection.

One man clears his throat. König’s eyes shoot in his direction. His gaze bore into the man waiting for him to speak.

“-Uh, sir, we have a shipment coming in from Hungary on Wednesday.” His eyes glued to your breasts as he speaks makes him forget his train of thought. “There are no set plans on who will be at pick up.”

“Mein Gott, your breasts are perfect.” König ignores the man to focus on you.

The man looks around at everyone’s eyes glued to you. “Sir?”

“You. Take Johan as well.” König’s attention shifts from you to the men. He notices their lustful gaze.

An awkward silence falls across the room as König pulls your shirt from the back as he looks over your shoulder at your breast. He perfectly sees the texture and color of your areolas and nipples. Perfection.

He continues to hold the back of your shirt with one hand. The other comes around and squeezes your breast. Cupping them in his hands before running them over your nipples, making you moan quietly. You turn your head to him and lift his hood slightly to kiss the pale skin of his neck. His cock is painfully hard. He cannot wait until this meeting is over so he can fuck these beautiful fucking breasts.

“Is that all we had to discuss?” König asks in a snappy voice.

“I can’t blame the guy; I’d want to hurry this up too.” One associate whispers to the one sitting next to him.

König hears him and smiles. His smile quickly disappears once he hears what the other man’s response was.

“I’d love to squeeze those massive breasts.” He lets out a low whisper before they laugh together.

König’s eyes fall on him, the both of them, and just glares. They don’t notice his gaze just yet, so they continue.

“Yeah, well, she was Christoph’s before, so we might get our turn.” They chuckle between them.

“Excuse me, my love.” König gently takes you off of his lap.

You stand and look up at König. His large hands come down and caress your face gently. “Take a seat Maus.”

König slowly walks past you around the table, his footsteps loud as he walks. He stops right behind the two men that were talking about you. Everyone at the table had eyes on the two men. Their fear was palpable.

König leans down slightly before whispering, “You know, this table isn’t big at all. And my hearing is wonderful.”

“Sir, I was just-”

He didn’t even get to finish his sentence before König quickly withdrew his gun and shot the man in between his eyes. His body lingered upright for a moment as everyone stared with wide eyes. Finally, the body fell forward onto the desk, causing a loud thump.

There was shock written all over the face of the man, sides of him that got all the blood splatter. König then turned the gun to the man that said he might have a turn with you in the future. His icy blue eyes bore into the man’s soul, almost.

Shaking, the man got out a short sentence. “I- I didn’t mean it…She’s your wife…”

“She is.” König nods and looks over at you sitting in his seat.

Your nipples are still hard and your breast jiggle lightly as you breathe rapidly from everything that just happened. My god you’re so perfect.

Without looking back at the man, König shoots him too. He puts his gun back into his holster and looks around the room.

“Anyone else have anything to say?”

A unanimous “no sir” breaks out across the remaining five men. All of them are too scared to look at König or me, so they keep their gaze down at the wooden table. König scans the table and looks at how they cower in fear.

“Gut.” König begins to walk back over to you. “Now, where was I?”

[master-muffinn]

Bleach: sitting on their lap in public headcanons

With Ichigo, Renji, Grimmjow and Yoruichi. x reader

Ichigo:

 🍓 I feel like Ichigo would be more fine with you sitting on his lap in a semi-public place, like at the park, library, waiting for the bus/train outside the city or if you are out in the evening together.

 🍓 If it’s too many people around it would be too much and he doesn't like the stares and the whispering!

 🍓 Of course he wouldn't accept it until you have been together for a couple of months at the very least. And you will most likely be the one starting it. Ichigo will be blushing quite a lot in the beginning but be more comfortable after every time. 

 🍓 He would prefer to not do it infront of his friends either, because they probably would make fun of him and that would make him even more embarrassed, but as we know, Ichigo wouldn't exactly let it slide either. 

“Renji, you are just jealous because you are still single!” 

“HUH?! I’M NOT!!” 

 🍓 However Ichigo prefers to be home alone with you and cuddle together without staring, judging eyes. 

Renji:

 🍍 This boy has been watching way too many series and movies by now. Taking inspiration from different romance shows and adding it to your relationship so that he can be more romantic and be the best boyfriend there is! 

 🍍 I can see him being the one who straight out asks you about it when you two are watching movies together and then regret it because it sounded so stupid! 

 🍍 If you accept it, Renji will be so nervous and awkward and be blushing the whole time. He’ll be wondering if you can hear his fast going heartbeat through his chest. ‘Why does it look so easy in the movies???’ If you start talking about the movie later he will have no idea what youre are talking about.

 🍍 Renji would also be more fine with semi-public places while being awkward and blushing most of the time even after doing it for months. He would rather have you on his lap in privacy and cuddle. Then you can have all his attention and no one would disturb you. ;) 

 🍍 If you were sitting on Renji's lap in a semi-public place and his friends would see you two like that, teasing would have a great effect on Renji at that moment.

“SHUT UP ICHIGO!! NOBODY ASKED FOR YOUR OPTION!!” 

“Geez Renji, y/n will go deaf if you scream like that”

Grimmjow:

 😾 This boy is a little complicated. You sitting on his lap is both prideful and embarrassing. He wants you to sit on his lap in the public and show off his amazing s/o and that they are obviously taken. But at the same time he’ll want you all by himself ALONE with no prying eyes. 

 😾 It’s the same with Grimmjow, you’ll have to be the one to start sitting down on his lap first, after that he’ll be the one who will grab you the most. He’ll find your physical affection very comfortable and calming. 

😾 Romance and relationship in general is something he is lacking, which is something he gets to experience and learn more and more with you. In the beginning he probably wouldn't be too fine to be lovey dovey in public, then it would be embarrassing. But the longer you are together the more pride and love he takes in you and your relationship so later on you can basically sit on his lap whenever you want and wherever you want, unless he’s out and fighting or training. Grimmjow will be happy either way and he won't take peoples crap either!

Yoruichi:

🐾 Yoruichi is literally a cat. She has been sitting on your lap in her cat form long before you have been in a relationship. So of course it’s no big deal! 

🐾 It doesn't really matter when or where, as long as she gets your attention and affection, but don’t forget to let her sit in your arms too! Yoruichi loves both and people who staring doesn't affect her. 

“Y/n what we do is none of other people’s business, just ignore them okay?”

🐾 Yoruichi wouldn't mind sitting with you in front of her friends either. Kiskue and the others wouldn't judge. Everyone in that shop is so used to your relationship by now. 

🐾 But don’t forget that Yoruichi also has a lot of energy and likes to mess with people and prank them, so watch out! Like that time when she was sitting in Byakuya's garden with you in her lap and was making out with you in front of him just to get a reaction. Byakuya was not happy.

“You are a disgrace…Leave immediately!”

“What? Are you uncomfortable? Or just jealous, hmm?” 

“...Bankai, senbonzakura..”

Thank you for reading! If liked, please reblog! 💖 Have a good day!

Post made by @master-muffinn

[floofyroro]

To Be Held

Pairing: Crosshair/Reader

Words: 682 (fic vignette)

Tags/warnings: hurt/comfort, angst, fluff, semi-established relationship

Summary: In a quiet moment together, you inquire about Crosshair's scar.

A/N: Many drabbles sit untouched in my notes app. I'm getting tired of staring at my longer WIPs and I think I just need to share something at this point. Please accept these crumbs and let me know if this resonates with you. 🙏 Part 2 is here.

Your touch is feather-light against his temple. He allows his head to lay limply across your lap and despite how intimate it feels, he can’t find any reason to care. Not when your fingertips trail back and forth from his cheeks to his neck. When they reach his shoulders, you press into him, making quick work of any lingering tension.

“What’s the story behind this scar?” 

He goes rigid and you must notice because you pause your minstrations as a result. 

“I’m sorry.”

A pause. 

“I… we don’t have to talk about—“

“Bracca,” he interrupts you, causing you to quiet. 

“It happened on the planet Bracca while I was still serving the Empire.”

His voice feels hoarse from disuse. When your touch resumes, albeit with more hesitance, so does he.

“I was… targeting my brothers and Omega. But I was facing an ion engine when it ignited. I... couldn’t get away in time.” 

The breeze picks up once more, the curtains billowing in the background. Crosshair welcomes the salt-licked sensation that’s brought in by the wind, finding that it contrasts nicely against the rise of his own internal body temperature. 

His body seems to remember the moment far too well. Crosshair has to tamp down against the rising fear, the rising anxiety that threatens to overtake him. He feels it all creeping over his shoulders but this time…

This time, your touch is already there to combat these ghosts. It takes your lithe fingers, your dexterous thumbs to press into him and he finds that maybe he can move on from these moments, these ghosts. 

If only while by your side.

While you remain silent, he reassesses.  Perhaps with time, you’ll come to find that he isn’t worth the commitment, that his baggage is too daunting to carry. With each layer that he bares before you, he finds that his confidence in being vulnerable is challenged. Will continue to be challenged. He wonders that with time, it’ll ease.

You sigh. 

He waits, anticipating a form of rejection. He wonders if looking up into your eyes would reveal a look of disgust.

You don't give him much time to ponder further.

Your hair trickles against his nose before he registers that you’re leaning down to cradle his head to your chest. Soft hands support him, and the sound of your heartbeat thrums against his cheek, his temple. 

It’s a rather nice sound. 

“You have been through so much.” 

It takes him a moment too long to parse the meaning of your words. These aren’t words that should be directed towards him. No, not with the mountain of sin weighing heavily on his shoulders. 

Instead of accepting them, he focuses on your heartbeat, the sound a balm for these thoughts.

It’s a soft, lulling thing.

But your caress against his temple, his scar, is what brings him back to you. 

He doesn’t know what to say to that. He… 

His chest tightens because yes. He can admit that he has gone through enough. An arm snakes around you in his own attempt to return the embrace, the action surprising yet natural. 

You tighten your hold on him in response. 

“I’m sorry, Crosshair. But I’m so glad you’re here now,” and he opens his eyes to find that his gaze is clouded, his cheeks dampening as he tries to inhale steadily, “here, where you’re safe. Here, with me.”

There’s a crack in your voice and it causes his heart to stutter. He isn’t used to this. This.. feels too good to be true. Is he dreaming? The rational side of him berates such a thought because obviously he’s awake and he’s here, with you, with kind words directed towards him, their meaning a nectar which he feels drawn to, finding that he’s ravenous for more.

Instead of speaking, he uses his palm on your back to pull you closer, the pressure of your chest against him welcome and grounding. Without a second thought, his fingers brush against your spine, your shirt catching against the callouses on his hands.

He’s never been good with words anyway. 

Part 2 is here.

[selencgraphy]

— 𝐈 𝐆𝐎𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔

PAIRING: logan howlett x gn!reader

PROMPT: prompt list used

117. “i’m not scared but if you are, you can hold my hand.”

TAGS: peer pressure, ooc!logan(?), halloween fic when it's only august, anxiety, fear of halloween maze (no scares actually depicted)

A/N: i reworded the dialogue prompt a bit to fit logan but yeah :) just a little bit of logan comfort in preparation for spooky season <3 happy reading!

WORD COUNT: 381

masterlist || request box <3

“I don’t know about this, Marie,” you swallowed as you stared down the maze’s entrance.

“C’mon, honey. Everyone is coming with,” she coaxed, lightly tugging your arm. “It’ll be fun!”

You sighed and gave in to her plea, trudging along behind the rest of them. Ever since you were a kid you absolutely hated scary stuff. You knew all of this stuff wasn’t real, but it was hard to make the distinction while in the thick of it.

As soon as you crossed the threshold into the maze, your heart rate spiked even higher than it already had been in anticipation, sweat starting to line your skin as the lights started to lessen. “Y/N,” someone called, but your brain didn’t quite register who it was in the midst of the raging heartbeat in your ears. Turning to look, you found Logan staring at you, his eyes soft and full of worry.

“Hm?”

“You okay, bub?” You nodded your head; unfortunately, very obviously lying to him through your teeth. You were as pale as a ghost and your breath erratic. 

“If you’re scared, you could… hold my hand,” he offered, his voice low and gentle. Your eyes widened slightly in surprise at the gesture. You and him were close friends, and sure, you might have a tiny crush on him, but this was something new for you two. Your head moved before you could stop yourself, accepting the offer.

“My hands are a little clammy by the way, so I’m sorry about that. My anxiety goes crazy and then next thing you know, I’m absolutely covered in sweat,” you rambled, immediately stopping yourself when you realized how much you had just spoken. Just as Logan was about to say something back, the moment was quickly interrupted by Marie yelling back at them.

“C’mon you two!” You looked at him and found him already looking back, shrugging and holding out his hand. Gently, you placed your hand in his, warmth immediately coursing through your body at the feeling. For a second, you swear you saw him smile in the darkness of the maze.

“Thank you,” you quietly say, only loud enough for him to be able to hear. He gently squeezed the hand he held in his own.

"I got you, bub.”

[meiieiri]

STOLEN MOMENTS WITH THEM [FT. JUJUTSU KAISEN]

❁—CHARACTERS: suguru geto, gojo satoru, nanami kento

warnings: suggestive themes in gojo’s part (bc why not haha), mentions of canon-typical violence

a/n: i’m so sorry for all this tooth-rotting fluff, i’m sad rn so hehe :’>> song inspo: you are in love (taylor swift). am accepting requests/prompts btw, just shoot me a message-

༊*·˚ SUGURU GETO

winter afternoons cooped inside your one bedroom apartment are always special days, commonly consisting of freshly-brewed piping hot tea sitting peacefully on your small living room side table, a good book, and the warmth of a knitted throw blanket. snowflakes fall entrancingly from the sky and make a feather-like landing on the glass windows that peek into your home.

suguru geto was lounging silently on the couch with you, your head on his strong lap as he gently combs his fingers through your hair, a leather bound book in his free hand, his eyes leisurely skimming the yellowed pages trying to make sense of the decadent shakespearean sonnets that liken love to that of honey and flowers. you were just about to fall asleep when suguru’s melodic baritone caresses your ear.

“don’t you think he’s so full of shit?” he asks suddenly. how could one speak with such vulgar words and still make it sound like poetry?

“shakespeare?” you sit up and you readjust yourselves so that you can rest your head on his shoulder, peeking over it to inspect sonnet 55. his arms comes up to pull you closer to him, tucking you into the warmth of his chest in a bid to keep you warm. “i thought you liked his work,” you take the offending book into your hands, scanning through the words.

“i do,” he clarifies, tracing shapes on your shoulder, his cheek resting against the top of your head as he waits for you to finish reading through the passage.

when you look up from the book, you are surprised when his lips abruptly yet softly meet yours in a loving peck. his hand moves to cup your cheek as he deepens the kiss, your lips moving together in a perpetual waltz, your heartbeats in total sync. you thought the kiss would last forever, and you and suguru wouldn’t give a flying fuck, but he pulls away teasingly, his forehead resting against your own, his nose lovingly bumping yours as you both come down from your respective highs.

“not as much as i like you, though.”

you shake your head, rose blush tinting your cheeks, hopelessly in love. he truly was the light of your life, the lighthouse that brings you to safe waters.

༊*·˚ GOJO SATORU

despite the horrors that have long plagued the grounds of jujutsu tech, the school, being tucked away in a remote location deep in tokyo’s forgotten countryside, was actually quite beautiful. the backdrop of the tall cedar-wood and red maple trees in the forest adjacent to the teachers’ dormitories that served as a protective cover from unwanted prying eyes is a particularly wonderful sight and in an autumn evening such as this one, emitted a fresh aroma of sweet cherries and almonds.

“i was wondering where you were,” gojo satoru walks in the teachers lounge just as the electric kettle automatically switches off. he woke up in a panic when he noticed you’d gone missing, your side of the bed having lost all its warmth, indicating you must have been out of bed for a good while now. it didn’t help his nerves to see your bedstand digital clock display the time: 1:58 AM in bright neon green on its screen.

he moves behind you, his strong arms wrapping around your dainty figure as you busy yourself pouring the boiling hot water into the two instant ramen cups you had prepared. “that for me?”

“nope,” you shrug. “it’s for nanami.”

that was obviously a lie — he looks at the label of the ramen cup and scoffs when he sees the indicated flavor: seafood curry, his favorite, now, if that wasn’t enough to convince him, he has to remind himself that his adorable blonde junior hates instant crap like this. but still, you found it endearingly funny to see your husband pouting like some kicked dog when you push past him to bring the two cups over to the nearby dining table. “i’m kidding,” you chortle, beckoning him to join you.

“you meanie,” he sticks out his bottom lip as he follows you to the table. he sits down, his elbows resting on the table as his hands come up to cradle his chin, mirroring the image of a child who’d been told “no” by his parent. “i think i want a divorce now,” he sulks.

you feign guilt, playing along with him. you stand up to take a seat next to him. “i’m sorry, baby,” you tell him. he only responds by pointing to his cheek, silently telling you to “kiss it better” if you really were sincere in your apology. you reach up to place a loving kiss on his cheek and a smile spreads across his lips. “better?” you chuckle when he lets out an amused breath.

having made peace, you move to retrieve your cup of ramen when without warning, he pulls you by the hand, crashing his lips against yours in a passionate kiss, his teeth needily sucking at your bottom lip, the heat of the kiss seemingly warming up the entire room that had been filled with the chill of the autumn night breeze. your arms move to rest on his shoulders, as he effortlessly pulls you into his lap, his hands resting on the small of your back. it’s only when you need to take a steadying breath of air that he breaks the kiss.

“all better,” he winks, the ramen having gone cold, utterly forgotten, as the night peacefully went on.

༊*·˚ NANAMI KENTO

“i knew i should have brought an umbrella,” nanami kento sheepishly rubs the back of his head.

“i’m sorry,” his shoulders slump when a low rumble of a thunderclap suddenly goes off, lightning illuminating the sky in a brilliant glow. the date had gone so well — you visited the best art galleries in tokyo, even saw a performance at one of those cozy hidden gem jazz clubs — kento had thought that his luck would hold out ‘till you got home.

but the universe seems to have decided otherwise. now, here you were taking shelter, stranded under the fiberglass roof of a deserted bus stop’s waiting shed. “kento,” your gentle voice quells the dread in his chest, chipping away at the block of anxiety forming in his throat. “it’s okay,” you scoot over, patting the spot next to you, silently telling him to sit down.

reluctantly, he takes a seat, keeping himself at a reasonable distance from you, thinking that you would, at the very least, be upset at him for this slight mishap. “sorry,” he repeats the apology like a broken record, and a compassionate smile forms on your lips.

you slowly scoot on over next to him, closing the gap between the two of you, your pinky finger reaching for his own, as if you were asking for permission. kento notices the gesture instantly, and takes your hand in his, his thumb rubbing your knuckles comfortingly. “…today was fun, kento,” you tell him, a genuine grin on your face, “seriously. what’s a little rain?”

a burden seems to have been lifted from his shoulders. kento nanami was not a man who put much value into love, with how dangerous his profession is, fighting the lurking malevolence hiding in the world’s darkest shadows, he didn’t have time for the childishness of falling in and out of love. it was inconvenient, and troublesome.

at least, that’s what he used to believe before you came crashing into his life and touched the heartstrings he has long resigned to keep under lock and key with your delicate hands.

he silently takes off his overcoat then to wrap it around your shoulders like the gentleman he was (he wasn’t about to let the love of his life get drenched in the rain), resisting the urge to grin when he sees just how small you look in it. the next few minutes pass by in absolute silence, the sound of your breaths being the only conceivable sound for a long while.

“…i’m glad you had fun,” he looks up at the stormy sky again. “i did, too.”

“next time, let’s be sure to check the weather forecast ahead of time,” you giggle. he joins your laughter, bringing your hand to his lips, his warm breath tickling your skin, as he lets his lips touch your flesh in a quintessentially classic affectionate kiss on the back of your hand like they do in those vintage hollywood movies. he tucks a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “i know how much you hate the rain.”

“…i think i can make an exception,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper.

the decibels of his tenor fight against the loud pitter patter of raindrops crash landing on the fiberglass roof of the waiting shed. but you hear his lyrical confession of love anyway, with your heart’s ear perhaps.

“i have the sun with me all the time, anyway,” kento says, planting a soft kiss on your forehead as the rain washes the remnants of his old world away.

[osachiyo]

𝕱𝖆𝖎𝖙 𝖆𝖛𝖊𝖈 𝖆𝖒𝖔𝖚𝖗 · dazai, chuuya & fyodor .ೃ࿐

· 𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰 𐙚 none, gn reader, sfw content, fluff, petnames, headcanons + little scenarios, not proofread

· 𝔫𝔬𝔱𝔢𝔰 𐙚 sorry these are really short, im just trying to clear out as many requests as i can for now :') i was gonna add sigma n fukuzawa too but i wanted to get it out asap so i can work on my other wips. also ! i might focus a little more on fluff for the time being :) happy reading and hope you guys enjoyed !

𝖘𝖞𝖕𝖓𝖔𝖘𝖎𝖘... just some cute scenarios with some of the bsd men ᡣ𐭩

dazai.. was an interesting man. he never got flustered no matter how much you flirted with him, not even blushing when you did provocative actions like sitting on his lap, or whispering dirty words into his ear.

instead, he somehow counters your lines with his own — leaving you the one flustered.

but when you give him genuine compliments, or do something nice for him genuinely from the goodness of your heart, the same man who's seemingly unaffected by your advances, somehow turns into putty — melting in the clutch of your warm grasp.

in the quiet sanctuary of your shared bedroom, you hummed sweet words against dazai's dark locks, your lips finding solace on the crown of his head. "you're so pretty," you whispered, a genuine compliment that seemed to momentarily lift the weight of his rough day.

"darling, not as pretty as you," he chuckled, his voice muffled as he buried his face in your chest. the day had taken its toll on him, a tough mission leaving him with more than a fair share of injuries. but those details could wait for another time.

for dazai, these moments were treasures. lying in your arms or having you nestled in his, the simple pleasure of each other's company became a haven. the absence of distractions allowed him to savor the rare peace he found with you, a feeling that almost made him giddy.

your words, genuine and warm, were like a balm for his weary soul. in these moments, he set aside his usual snarky quips and jokes, content to bask in the embrace and scent that spoke of comfort and home. the sincerity in your praise quickened his heartbeat, and for once, dazai didn't need to hide behind humor.

though his face was hidden from your view, dazai couldn't conceal the flush of pink spreading across his cheeks. it was a secret shared only with the solitude of your embrace — a silent acknowledgment of the vulnerability and affection that blossomed in these stolen moments of peace.

considering chuuya's job, you two don't get to spend too much time together. but you had already known and accepted that when you started dating him.

though, when you two do get to spend some quality time together — it's all worth it. he makes sure to spoil you with his affection and attention when he has the chance — making up for all the time he's neglected you.

and after a whole day of getting spoiled by him — visiting fancy and expensive places, tasting amazing food, drinking the finest wine, you finally get to relax at home with your favorite person.

"quit scrunching that handsome face, babe," you sighed, smoothing the furrowed lines of his brows with your thumbs, delicately working the cleanser into his skin. chuuya simply hummed, surrendering to the soothing sensation and leaning into your touch.

"and what's the deal with this?" he asked, his arms enveloping your waist — right where they belonged. "it's just cleanser, does what it says — cleans your skin." chuuya hummed again, drawing small circles on your hips, "just make sure it stays out of my eyes, okay?" you rolled your eyes, adjusting yourself on his lap for better comfort, "obviously."

after rinsing off the cleanser and following through with the skincare routine you'd picked, chuuya stared at his reflection in the mirror — bunny headband adorning his head, bangs swept back and away from his face, which now felt surprisingly soft. "holy shit, my face feels so...smooth?" he blinked, gently squishing his own cheeks. you approached from behind, planting a tender kiss on his neck — "i did tell you my skincare routine works wonders."

"heh, yeah," he chuckled, turning to face you, playfully squishing your cheeks together before planting a soft kiss on your lips, "now it's your turn, love. your skin deserves some of that magic too."

fyodor was a busy man, you always catch him in that dimly lit room — typing away while staring at his monitors. with all the plotting, scheming and hacking — he never really has any time left to take real care of himself.

and that's exactly what you're here for — dragging him out of the dingy room, not paying any attention to his complaints or threats, you know he doesn't mean them.

taking off his ushanka, you wonder how much time had it actually been since he's properly washed his hair — but you didn't ask him that, knowing he'd be even more irritated.

fyodor's complaints ceased once you proposed a shared bath, both of you disrobing before slipping into the warm water. the temperature, meticulously adjusted to his liking, showcased your thoughtful consideration. though the usual positions were reversed, with him against your chest, it was necessary for you to tend to his hair.

"right there, love," fedya sighed in content, tilting his head back and savoring your touch. your fingers massaged the shampoo into his hair, focusing on his scalp. "feel good, huh?" you smiled, placing sweet kisses on the pale skin of his exposed neck before gently rinsing away the shampoo from his raven locks.

these tranquil moments held a special place in his heart. simple yet profound, they kindled a warmth within him. your loving gaze had the power to thaw even his typically cold heart. in those tender glances, he found a promise to himself — to craft the perfect world for both of you.

©sachiyoh— do not copy, plagiarize and repost my works to any platform, reblogs are very appreciated♡

tags ・ @hopefulpain @inkmooon @constant-existential-terror @nda-approval @mellieellie @seiiushi @lynxxyyy @kentopedia

@sorasushik1 @himebwrries @nopethenope @neviex @fyodorisbbg @stygianoir @saharei @x-lunawrites-x @munnaitorei @emyyy007 @dearhoney-31 @the-foreigner @angoisfine @osaemu @honeycombflowers-blog @yuiiasathesilly @kaithegremlin @squigglewigglewoo @cupidszvlvr @ashthemadwriter-archived @bloobewy @mrs-bakugou @hauntedsol @ask-me-or-not @hanakotateyama @kissesmellow21 @dazaichuuya69 @xxsilverjackalxx @gettinshiggywithit @deaths-presence @sugaredpersimmon @rjssierjrie @iheartpieck @angelof-darkness @dazaisimpletmereadfanficspls @hellokitty-4-lele @scinclaitnoir @aly-insanity @kemis-world @bisexuawolfsalt @thateldribitch

[ovaryacted]

GIRL DAD! LEON HEADCANONS

So, I was not expecting this to be so fucking long, but here we are. At this rate, this should just be considered a fic & analysis post all on its own lmao. But yes, here are some extensive headcanons of Leon being a girl dad because as a writer it’s my duty to make this man happy since others won’t (I’m looking at you Capcom). No specific age of the child is mentioned but look at this as a general periodic analysis of Leon being a father. Hope you like it! :)

2.0k words | cw: tooth-rotting fluff, just Leon being a sappy dad

I think it’s become a universal and widely accepted headcanon that Leon would be a girl dad, and likewise that he will become the softest man imaginable. A man like him who has seen and witnessed so much violence and gore in his life, completely melting because his little girl has him wrapped around her finger is the most precious thing ever.

During the pregnancy, Leon would already be protective and gentle, wanting his partner to never lift a finger so he’d do everything and anything possible to make it an easy time for them. I also would like to think that he doesn’t care what sex his child is, whether it be a boy or a girl, he doesn’t have a preference, all he wants is for his baby to be healthy and happy. So throughout the pregnancy, you both agree to keep the sex of the baby a surprise, focusing more on their health and how they’re doing as they develop every week.

So the day you go into labor a week earlier than expected, he’s worried that things might go badly and his anxiety is on 10. But after hours of pain and distress during childbirth, the second he hears the loud shrill cry of his child he feels tears building in his eyes. He’s happy, genuinely happy that his baby is here in the world, and his emotions only intensify when he hears the words “Congrats, it’s a healthy baby girl!” from one of the nurses.

A baby girl. His baby girl.

He finds himself crying more than he’d like, and obviously, he’s trying to be strong for you as your body shakes from the over-exertion of labor, but he can’t help himself. As he watches the nurse put your crying baby onto your warm chest and notices how she instantly calms down the moment she hears your voice, he can feel his heart growing in size at the sight.

His two perfect girls, all in one place.

It’s a while before he gets the chance to see his child once they’re all cleaned up and swaddled in a comforting blanket, rocking a baby pink hat. His eyes are taking in his daughter’s features for the first time, going over her cute little nose and round cheeks. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen something so perfect, so small, and it amazes him that he managed to partake in creating something like that. Leon doesn’t believe in love at first sight, but the moment he looks at his daughter he thinks he finally understands what that feels like.

The first time he gets to hold his daughter, he’s terrified, thinking that he shouldn’t be touching her to begin with. His child is pure, untouched by the horrors of the real world and his hands aren’t unwashed of everything he’s done. He’s held weapons of destruction and killed more things than he could count. You’d have to remind him constantly that his child doesn’t know anything about what he’s done to survive, about what he’s been through, and that no matter what she won’t blame him for it and will still love him because he’s her father.

Over time, he gets used to holding her, thinking it’s almost comical how small she looks tucked nicely against his bicep and chest. Holding his daughter quickly becomes a source of comfort for Leon, feeling like the world just stops the moment he has her in his arms where she’s safe. You would find him sleeping on the couch with her on his chest, her head right against his heartbeat and lulling her to sleep.

As his daughter grows, Leon only becomes more attached. He’s always taking care of her, ready to feed her, change her, tend to all of her needs, and talk to her. In a way, he knows it’s good on your end so you can rest and recover, and he gets closer to his child, a child he never knew he could have. He could spend hours just looking at her, watch how her big blue eyes take in her surroundings, and he loves having her tiny fingers wrap around one of his own.

Sometimes at night, he’d just look over her as she slept in her crib, watching her little body take in every breath while the nagging voice in his head told him that she’s a figment of his imagination. He’d spend some nights sleeping in the rocking chair in her nursery to watch over her, not caring for his sore back in the morning. It’s a process Leon has to go through on his own, and you don’t push him in any direction, just let him handle it while reminding him you’re there to support him. He has to do it to accept that his child is real and isn’t going to disappear the next time he blinks, and once his mind finally accepts that fact he’ll be less paranoid.

Eventually, he’s around his daughter so much that he develops a sixth sense to her moods. He knows when she’s about to cry, when she needs a bath or to be changed, when she’s hungry. He gets so good at taking care of his daughter that he’s in tune with her emotions, his fatherly intuition becoming stronger the more he interacts with her. This also means that he generally hates seeing his baby girl cry, it tugs at his heartstrings when he thinks she’s upset or hurt. That’s why when it’s time to bring her to the doctor to get her first shots, Leon starts to cry when his daughter cries from the injections. He hates thinking he’s hurting his child despite knowing it’s necessary for her health, but that doesn’t mean he hates it any less.

“I know sweet pea, I know it hurts. I’m sorry darling”

For the record, he’d have a list of terms of endearment he’d call his daughter on top of her name, but the one he reserves specifically for her would be sweet pea. Of course, he’s called you that once or twice, but during the pregnancy he called the baby sweet pea when they were the actual size of a pea. That name just stuck with him, and now that he has a daughter, it’ll be the one name that’s solely for her.

Leon is always shopping for her, buying her stuffed animals or anything she remotely likes. He quickly develops a bad habit of not being able to tell his daughter “no”, and that doesn’t make her into a brat, she just has a dad that wants to spoil her. In Leon’s mind, whatever his daughter says she wants, she gets, no matter how ridiculous or expensive. If she says she wants a kitchen set and it’s tea party time, Leon will get one for her and sit down with the rest of her plushies at the table and act the part. If she says she wants a damn pony he’s gonna get it for her (obviously he doesn’t because you stop him from doing something ridiculous) but he tries and it’s endearing.

His daughter will continue to grow and develops a personality that closely resembles his own, matching her appearance she got mostly from her father, moles and all. She’s smart and perceptive, a sweetheart and so kind it warms his chest. But his favorite part of his child’s personality is her spunk and sense of humor. He makes it a habit to test out his corny dad jokes on his kid, just so he can hear her laugh and giggle regardless of how old she gets. Leon does it so he can see her bright smile, not caring if it’s just gums or a full set of pearly white teeth, it’s all he looks for. He tries to be the cool dad, and he thinks as long as he has his daughter’s approval he can do anything.

Leon is always open to spending quality time with his daughter, and if anything she’s the one that initiates. He remembers when she first started walking, her wobbly little legs making him worry when he glanced at her taking her first steps. Now that she can run mostly anywhere around the house, she’ll walk towards his direction, raising her arms above her head so Leon could carry her. He always does, always says yes no matter how his body feels. He’ll try to hold her and carry her for as long as he possibly could because that’s his baby girl and he’d do anything to make her happy. Leon is fully aware that eventually, he will get too old or potentially too weak from an injury to carry her, so he stays active as much as he can and maintains his strength for that reason.

He’s always with her, whether that be playing with her and her toys, or just talking to her about anything that comes to mind. Leon and his daughter become attached at the hip, twins essentially. She’ll ramble about things and ask him silly questions, and Leon will communicate with her too. When he does talk to his daughter, he speaks to her like an actual adult and it’s the funniest thing ever. She could be babbling when she’s a toddler and Leon would give a very lengthy explanation of the anti-capitalistic ideology and how much he hates how taxes are broken down. It would be even funnier when she starts to talk and he becomes the designated person she goes to when seeking answers to anything on her mind.

“Daddy, is the moon made of cheese?”

“Yes, I think it’s made out of mozzarella”

“Really? So does that mean cheese balls are moon rocks?”

“Exactly sweetheart”

He loves to entertain her, to make sure he keeps up with her curiosity and interests no matter how silly they are. In a way, this is how he protects her innocence and makes sure his daughter knows that he’s her friend, that he cares for her, and that she will always be safe with him. He tries very hard to keep all of the negative and toxic things he knows is out in the real world away from his kid and household all together, prioritizing her happiness and health above all else. That includes not mentioning anything about his job or what he does, and actively going to therapy so he can show up better than the last time she saw him. He tries every day to be the best dad he could be for his daughter, because he wants to be the father he never had, so he tries and that’s what matters.

His child knows that sometimes he has to go away for days to weeks at a time for work. She doesn’t fully understand what Leon’s job pertains to but just knows that he goes off to fight the bad guys. In her precious mind, she sees her dad as a superhero, looks up to him in admiration, and gets sad whenever he has to leave. But when it’s time for him to part ways with his family, she gives him a big hug and words of encouragement and love. She sticks out her small pinky finger, which Leon curls with his. It was part of his good luck ritual, making sure to pinkie promise his return and that he’ll be safe and he never breaks his promise. He always adored how her eyes carried the same determination he has when he’s focused on his missions. 

“Promise to be back daddy?”

“I will sweet pea. I’ll always come back for you”

When it comes to him out on the field, he usually doesn’t keep any form of identification on him as a safety precaution, so he keeps stuff like his wedding band at home. But his daughter will give him a friendship-beaded bracelet to carry with him, and he’ll wear it proudly on the opposite wrist that isn’t occupied by his watch. It’s not visible to others because of his gloves, but the weight of it against his skin is what keeps him going and keeps him motivated as he takes out any threat that presents itself. When he returns home no matter how his body feels, his daughter is the first one to come running towards him with that wide smile on her face. He wraps his arms around her, hugging her tightly as if she will disappear at any moment, and he will continue to do that for as long as he can.

Leon and his daughter are two peas in a pod, she is his missing piece and makes him feel whole with every moment they share. He’ll do anything to make his daughter happy, and he doesn’t mind being wrapped around his baby girl’s finger, because that’s where he belongs. 

©️ ovaryacted 2024. Please don’t repost, copy, translate, or feed into any AI. Support your fellow creators by reblogging, commenting, and liking!

[charliemwrites]

I had a BRAIN BLAST on the way home today. So!

In the category of Readers Who Get To Do What They Want:

(CW for dark Simon, johnny, and “reader” with unhealthy relationship dynamics, gaslighting - not from who you suspect - and threats of violence)

A pair of identical twins who are basically opposites from birth. Twin 1 is obviously favored by their parents for being the “easy” twin that tries to appease them and keep the peace. Twin 2 a little hellion from birth, they think this kid is basically broken. Try to test for psychopathy but nope, their own kid has just picked up on the accidental favoritism from birth and just seems to dislike their own parents. But they still love their twin.

The twins grow up as complete opposites. Different social circles, hobbies, interests, clothes, attitudes. They’re incredibly close, but twin 2 will (and has) gotten violent on twin 1’s behalf because their parents are raising them to be “well behaved”.

By teen years, twin 2 is being sent to the countryside most summers to be handled by the grandparents. (Jokes on them, farmlife is nice and the grandparents aren’t exactly strict - mostly because twin 2 actually likes them and doesn’t see much need to rebel).

Meanwhile twin 1 is doing summer programs and learning arts, developing this intense aversion to conflict and has trouble standing up for themself. Especially without twin 2 there to lean on.

Come university, their parents insist on twin 1 staying close by for uni, essentially make the choice for them. Twin 2 decides to ship out of the country and plans on breaking off all contact. (Maybe due to some sort of unforgivable drama at the grandparents’ funeral?)

Before leaving, twin 2 gives twin 1 a burner phone with one number programmed in. Promises that if twin 1 ever needs to disappear, to be free of it all, they can call and twin 2 will be there in a heartbeat with bolt cutters for those chains. And then they just sort of… disappear.

Twin 1 doesn’t see them for *years*. Never uses that phone but keeps it.

So twin 1 lives their quaint pre-determined life with their acceptable job and it’s all mostly okay. Not bad at all. Quiet, if lackluster.

And then Simon comes along. Simon, who takes one look at this little angel and decides they have to be his. Theyre too good, too soft, unable to take care of themselves properly in this big scary world. And after all he’s suffered, doesn’t he deserve something sweet to protect? And hell, Johnny could use a kind touch every now and then too.

So he “seduces” twin 1 (aka, the dark!Simon move of just deciding someone is his and acting like it whether they like it or not). Manipulates them into stepping right into their own collar and leash, with him at the other end.

It’s too late by the time Twin 1 realizes what they’ve become - this man’s pretty pet. An agreeable little doll for him and his teammate to play house with. It’s not always bad, but it’s suffocating and scary. They feel trapped; they are.

It takes months until they get enough privacy to dig the old phone out of the place they nearly forgot about it.

Twin 2 picks up on the third ring.

In the intervening years, twin 2 has gotten into all sorts of trouble and mayhem. Become the demon their parents always accused them of being. Has, somehow along the way, joined up with KorTac and gotten all their files scrubbed. “Twin 2” no longer exists to the world at large. Nothing that anyone, even Kate Laswell, could dig up.

They get the call from their twin and break their contract on the spot. Get on a flight within hours. Sneak their twin out of the homey prison they’ve been locked up in.

Take twin 1 to a sunny, public cafe and get the story through their sibling’s nervous stuttering. Gets angrier and angrier with the more they hear, eyes fixated on the thin leather collar around their twin’s throat.

“Please just… I know it’s selfish and I’m sorry, but-”

Twin 2 already has a plan. They have a quiet, cozy cabin with comfortable funds in a rural part of Canada. Twin 1 will go there, rest and recover and be free. Twin 2 will take their place with Simon and Johnny to throw off suspicion and searches.

The scars from living the life they have? No worries. twin 2 will stage a car accident, reopen some of them to make it seem legit. Lie about head trauma to account for any lapses in their twin 1 act.

It’s decided within three hours. Twin 2 sends their sibling off to the airport and sets everything into motion. They’ve been dying to do something like this for years, after all the times their sibling stuck by their side and tried to stick up to them, to no avail.

Twin 2 instantly hates that fucking collar. Lets Simon put it on but not without the most dark look at the wall, thinking of all the ways to break his hands. Fingers twitching by their side.

The boys sit them down to watch scary movies because they always think it’s fun to spook twin 1 and fuck them while they’re all tense and shivery and but twin 2 is just watching, almost bored. Makes a few attempts to fake jump but keeps forgetting because all their focus is on not slamming a hand into someone’s dick for grinding on them.

Pretends to be asleep in the big bed they’ve been herded into when they kick Johnny or Simon off in the middle of the night. Purposefully aims for soft spots and bruises.

They try to act like twin 1 for a bit but the persona is so difficult to keep up when every little condescending comment from Simon or Johnny makes them want to start stabbing. The inside of their mouth is all torn up from biting onto their cheek and running their tongue over their teeth to resists snarling and snapping.

One day they’re going to snap… and it’s going to be so good to see these bastards bleed.

[girlbossblackbeard]

THOUGHTS AND LAYERS

i spent literally an hour analyzing this trailer at 0.5 speed. this post is long af and these thoughts are in no particular order and are poorly organized:

-there's a big storm (which I think was already confirmed), and ed gets swept overboard by a bucket on a rope:

he then crawls up out of the water onto the beach

then goes into the forest, creates a hut, has a journey of healing and self-discovery, meets hornigold (or his ghost??)

and kills him thus killing the part of himself that he hated the most (his violence) as a parallel to stede finally getting rid of nigel's ghost by accepting and believing in himself

-in the stede/ed split screen, the stede shot is from the first ep of s2 right after stede finds the marooned crew at the end of ep 10 in s1 (you can tell bc his hair and clothes are still clean, there's no gay bandana around his neck, and that's his lil dinghy buttons is rowing)

-they go to shore and wind up at the merchants shop where "susan" overhears they're tracking down blackbeard

and she invites stede's crew onto her ship, cue the outfit change in the BTS photos:

-the way stede makes that little swishy turn in the red coat -

makes me think this may be first time he's been in fine clothes since his "death" and i hope we get a moment of him reflecting on how he gave up everything for ed only to have him hate him :( but then obviously realizing that ed is worth it and he'd do it all again in a heartbeat if it meant getting a chance at spending the rest of his life with him

-izzy and stede team up, and izzy is clearly training either himself or stede on the revenge (?)

soooooo many questions: what caused him to leave ed and join stede's crew? is he fighting with ed and is training to take him out or is he just done having his love be unrequited so he leaves and just so happens to stumble into stede? is izzy thinking that if he can't cut out the longing he has for ed he has to kill him instead so the pain will go away? what, pray tell, the fuck is going on in here on this day

-wee john in the mermaid costume (and olu in a bunny or donkey costume?):

a fuckery? or just a weird acid trip? OR IS IT THE TALENT SHOW THEY NEVER GOT TO HAVE??

-ed really does force everyone on his crew to wear war paint

-all the tally marks scratched into the walls - is that the number of days since stede bonnet broke ed's heart?

-ed in the forest in PEARL NECKLACE HELLOW????????

-the tear in ed's eye as he moves the cake toppers closer together which he also painted to make the lady look more like him he literlaly is in love wiht stede so bad wht the FUCJ

-ed's crew is murdering SO MANY PEOPLE at the wedding wtf (pic not included bc scary)

-delusional moment but i hope anne bonny on stede's lap is looking at calico jack off screen

-stede and ed are running towards each other on the black sand beach (thank you @sluterastede for pointing this out to me wtf!!!!!!)

which evolves my theory that ed in the forest goes through his healing journey and realizes he wants to openly love stede again but then the navy attack and stede just so happens to have found ed at the same time and they're fighting to get to each other and taking out everyone in their way (what if that was okracoke lmao)

-the swede and spanish jackie hooking up in the trailer

makes me think the bts shot of ed and jackie is them looking at stede and the swede, and ed being SO in love with stede obvi but jackie is watching the swede do some weirdly hot shit so she's gotta have him (what if they got married and he became her umpteenth husband in a drunken vegas-like shotgun wedding where she wakes up the next day to realize what has happened lmao)

-also this pic is DEF from the reunited/make up era bc ed's half-up hair, no makeup, soft eyes, and buttons' clothing. i am weeping

-stede in pain - is it an injury or a tattoo? or torture as @sluterastede posits?? he looks down at his lower body before screaming so maybe he knows what's about to happen to him??

-ed in the forest wearing the pearl necklace (see above), ed saying "fuck you stede bonnet" wearing the pearl necklace (see below)

does he pick it up at the wedding??? (theory credit to @sluterastede!!!! can u tell we watched the trailer together 400 times) i can't tell if he's wearing it in the one wide shot of him in that scene:

but regardless of when he acquires it, does he take it bc he remembers stede said he wears fine things well???? and he starts to believe he may deserve them??

-side note about a LACK of something: ed isn't wearing the cravat at all in the trailer near as i can tell, and he's not wearing the pearl necklace when throwing knives at the wall (at least from what I can see, which is not much) which leads me to believe that scene is in the earlier part of the season

-lastly, the most important song lyrics from the trailer (the beautiful ones by prince):

and that's my dissertation on the ofmd season 2 teaser trailer thank you

[lis-likes-fics]

Lab Rats

Pairings: professor!Jonathan Crane x student!Reader Word Count: 8.2k words Prompt: Sex Pollen Warnings: NSFW, smut, dubcon, professor/student relationship, sex pollen, oral (m!receving), fingering, edging, multiple orgasms, dumbification, name calling, degradation, p in v, unprotected sex, creampie... A/N: This is a day late, but I got it done! I hope you enjoy this filthy piece. Dr. Crane is so much fun to write for!

The call of your name stalled you from packing the rest of your items, your fingers tingling and your ears burning at the sound of your name breaching his lips.

“Could you stay after class, please?” Professor Crane asked, looking upon you with a set smile.

You remained calm. He would read any unnecessary excitement in the way you breathed.

You nodded, trying to sink back into the rest of the class, packing their bags to leave. You pulled the zipper of your bag closed. When enough people left the room, you made your way to the front with your bag on your person.

You had taken a certain fascination with Dr. Jonathan Crane the first moment you stepped into his class. He was handsome and charming, he knew how to teach and he always managed to pull you in.

He wasn't soft on anyone, even his favorite student usually didn't receive much special treatment. On the first day of classes, he told everyone that 50% of the class would be walking out of the door by the end of the week, and he was right. Better for you, that just meant less people to steal his attention away, less competition when it came to acing his tests and projects.

You loved his class, not just for the topic—obviously. Over the past couple of weeks, you felt his shift. His usual objectivity had switched and he seemed to point you out a little more. He praised your work, he accepted all of your input in class, he would even email you personally (sometimes talk to you after class) on your work to tell you how well you were doing.

You knew your attraction toward him would never amount to anything, it would never work out. But your fantasy was enough to quench your hunger for his attention and affection.

“Yes, sir?” you asked as you walked up to him.

Crane smiled at you. “I have a few matters I would like to speak with you privately… Could you spare the time?”

The strength of your heartbeat was extra hard for a few moments as you took in his words. You nod, “Of course, professor.”

“Step into my office?” he asked, gesturing toward the door with his name on it.

You took the first step, walking toward the door as he followed behind. You were suddenly very self-conscious of the way that you walked as you opened the door.

He moved around you when you were both inside, allowing you to shut the door as he took his spot in front of his desk. He leaned back on it, crossing his legs at the ankles and putting his hands in his pockets.

You knew this one. He was presenting his body language to seem more relaxed in order to ease you from your guard so he could properly manipulate you into agreeing with whatever he said.

He sighed, taking a moment to look upon you. “I would like you to know that I admire you and your work greatly,” he began, “and this is what allows me to ask this of you so freely.”

You blinked, anticipating his offer. “Yes, professor?”

He smiled, almost slyly. “I am conducting an experiment of sorts, a scientific breakthrough that I would like you to be the face of.”

You stared at him, your eyes wider than you meant for them to be as you slowly recovered. “I… Me?”

He nodded. “As part of a selection of students.”

Your heart sunk slightly at that. One of a group, but his first choice, at least…

“Oh,” you nodded. “Alright, uhm… Why—What, uh…” You reprimanded yourself for your lack of eloquence. “What is the experiment? What kind is it?”

“Unfortunately,” he breathed in deep, letting out a long sigh, “that must be kept a secret until I come to a close. It's not quite done—a few last minute tweaks need to be made…” He looked off slightly, thinking to himself for a split second. His attention turned back to you, looking at you a little closer, bringing you in.

He spoke slowly, leaning off the desk to stand. He moved a little closer, and you felt his hand brush your elbow. “But I would like to know that you would be willing to drop everything at a moment’s notice when I do contact you for it.”

He took another step forward, closer now to you. You knew this one, too. He was making it personal, making you compliant. You knew this trick, it was Psychology 101.

But it worked anyway.

“Oh,” you licked your bottom lip: your own trick. “Okay.”

He smiled, raising his brows, “Yes?” he nodded.

You returned the nod. “Yes, sir,” you smiled. “I…would be honored to.”

He held your eye contact, not letting go as he nodded. “Excellent!” he exclaimed gently. He leaned in a little, close to your face, too close for a professor talking to his student. “You really are my greatest student.”

You smiled, perhaps too much. You feel too giggly. “I'm…so glad.”

He moved his hand from your elbow to raise a finger, shaking it gently at you. “Remember,” he teased, “at a moment’s notice.”

You nodded definitely. “Of course.”

He offered you a charming smile before stepping out of your space, breaking the spell. He tilted his head toward you. “You may go.” Just as you were lifting your foot, he held out a hand toward you. “And thank you very much.”

With one last nod, you stepped back. “Not a problem, sir.”

You stepped out of his office, closing the door gently behind you. Gently biting your lip, you unsilenced your phone as you left his classroom.

~

The shrill ring of your phone cut through the late night and woke you brutally from your slumber. You gasped as you reluctantly blinked through the dark to direct your eyes to the abusive light emanating from the phone. The clock next to it on the nightstand read far past midnight. You moaned deeply, speaking but only forming actual words toward the middle of your complaint.

“...’f i’s ‘nother sp’m…” You wiped your face and covered your eyes as you answered the phone, not quite awake but too tired to deal with waking up.

“Hullo?”

The voice on the other end woke you up just a little more, not quite clearing the fog in your brain but allowing you to put more effort into sounding a little more awake.

“It's time.”

Time for wh—Oh.

You suddenly remembered Dr. Crane's experiment, the one he wanted to test with you. Your gut clenched and your heart picked up and startled you awake. It was time.

“Oh.”

~

You pressed your finger into the doorbell, checking the address of Dr. Crane's house out of nerves a fifth time and the time for the twentieth. You wrapped your coat tighter around you, the chilly breeze persuaded by the winter air of Gotham so close to Christmas time. They would be letting you out for the break soon…

The door opened, a little crack and a creak to allow you entry.

“Just go along with whatever happens.”

You thought back to his instructions on the phone, vague instructions you briefly considered not trusting. But he was your professor. He had your best interests at heart, surely.

You reached your hand toward the knob, timidly reaching. He wasn't at the door. Should you actually go in?

“Don't waste time asking questions. Everything will be explained when you get there.”

You pushed the door open and walked inside, shucking your coat off as you nervously looked around the house. You shut the door behind you, hanging your coat on the rack by the entrance and leaving your shoes next to the ones by the door.

You swallowed thickly as you looked around, stepping further inside. “Uhm…” you cleared your throat. “Dr. Crane? Are you still home?”

You were met with silence as you continued to quietly step through the living room, the air so still that you could feel your heart beating heavily in your chest. You were so nervous, your blood was pumping and you were bordering on scared as you tried to keep your breath level. Your flesh raised with goosebumps. It was too quiet.

You almost didn't want to speak again, afraid to break the silence and disturb something unknown lurking around the corner.

“Dr. Crane?” you called again, suddenly feeling very warm and very frightened. Where was he? “Professor?”

“In here.”

The voice was distant when he spoke, giving you some reprieve from the silence but feeding your anxiety, fueling your fight-or-flight.

“Where?” you wondered aloud, stepping past the archway that led into the hall.

“Just a few steps more…”

Could he see you? Was he taunting you on purpose? Perhaps part of the experiment?

The anxiety curled in your stomach, kept your footsteps slow and your breath shallow and a scream ready in your throat in case you needed it.

You were reluctant to speak. “Sir?” You pressed your palm along the wall of the hall and began to peer around the corner, into a room on the left. Maybe Dr. Crane was waiting there…

A strange, strong mist invaded your senses as you turned the corner. Raring up the scream, you gasped and your eyes stung, resulting in a heavy cough that took a moment to die down. You braced yourself on the wall, holding yourself up as you tried to clear your eyes, clouded by tears from both the coughing and the mist burning your eyes. You watched the mist clear, breathing in desperately for air.

“Shh, shh, shh, shh,” Dr. Crane's voice came, then his hands on your shoulders as he pulled you in and guided you into the room. “That's good,” he bid.

He held you steady as you blinked rapidly and steadied your breath. “I took the liberty of testing my hypothesis that it would work faster if the patient is already running on adrenaline.”

You wiped the tears roughly from your eyes. “Professor, what–?”

“Hush,” he cut you off, bringing you to the bed. “Sit here,” he said, lowering you down.

He pulled up a chair, sitting across from you before handing you a handkerchief. You took it greedily and began wiping your face. You sighed deeply into the fabric, holding your head in your hands as you adjusted.

“Okay,” he said, smiling. “Now that's done…the substance you've just inhaled is an aphrodisiac of my own design.”

You stilled entirely, looking up at him tentatively as your eyes widened. You blinked, shaking your head as you tried to organize your thoughts. It was an… an—“Aphrodisiac…” you muttered.

“Yes,” he nodded. “Aphrodisiac.”

You were suddenly dizzy, processing his words too slowly as you put together what this meant. An experiment with an aphrodisiac… and you were the “face” of it all?

“The word itself comes from the Greek name ‘Aphrodite’, which—I'm sure you know—is the Greek goddess of Sex.” You looked up at him as he began explaining, rolling up the sleeves of his white button down and dusting off his black slacks. Adjusting his glasses on his nose, he continued, “As far as the function of the substance is concerned, it affects hormone levels and accelerates blood flood, increasing chemicals in your brain like—dopamine, glutamic acid, nitric oxide, oxytocin to enhance sexual arousal.” He sounded like he was reading straight out of a book as he spoke with his hands, illustrating the drug to you to paint pretty pictures for you to apply to what was happening to you, in your own body.

It was getting warm, the physical exertion from the adrenaline, likely. The suspense and anxiety from before, along with the shock of Dr. Crane's mist had thrust you into an adrenaline rush. That was surely all it was.

“It relaxes smooth muscles,” he continued. “Stimulates erections, increases arousal.”

You fought the urge to clench your thighs at the idea of it. He was your psych professor and you were his student, and he was testing aphrodisiacs on you and telling you how it made boners and stiff nipples and fucking arousal.

“Professor,” you muttered.

He stopped you, raising a finger. “Please hold. I'm not finished.” He cleared his throat and thought for a moment. “Where was I? Aphrodisiacs are commonly found in natural foods or herbs, though the change in sexual desire is usually unnoticed when these substances—like chocolates, most commonly, or oysters and figs and strawberries—are consumed.”

You clenched the handkerchief in your hand, rubbing your palms against your thighs roughly. “Professor Crane.” You felt like your head was beginning to spin.

He sighed at you, seemingly disappointed. “I hope you're interrupting me for a good reason.”

You stared at him straight on, nearly glaring as a thin layer of sweat began to form over your skin. “It's hot,” you huffed.

“Well, that's to be expected,” he shrugged. He looked you up and down, smiling with a gentle chuckle. “How rude of me. How are you feeling?”

You brought the handkerchief to your forehead, breathing uneasily. “Hot.”

“As you've already stated.” He waved his hand dismissively. “What else?”

You didn't want to say: considering the heat was spreading through your body and scouring your nerves with a flush of lust. The last thing you wanted to do was explain that you were horny to your professor.

He tilted his head at your hesitation, noticing the way you turned away, closed yourself off. He raised a brow. “Come on,” he bid. He didn't sound like he was encouraging you, he sounded like he was taunting you. “Don't leave any details. This is an experiment, might I remind you. If you leave anything out, it could hinder the research.”

“Um,” you struggled, your voice trembling a little. You felt like your whole body would soon follow suit. You felt shaky, like you’d fall if you tried to stand. “Uh.” You couldn’t figure out what to say—it was humiliating to say the least, looking at your professor and forcing your eyes to stay on his face, because fuck…you wanted him so bad.

He raised a brow, waiting expectantly, “Well?”

You couldn’t. “I don’t know,” you muttered. “It’s just hot.”

He reached his hand out and pressed the back of his palm to your forehead. The coolness of his skin against the heat of your face was like a salve to a cruel burn. You leaned into him, stifling your moan as best you could as your eyes fluttered at the contact. It felt so good.

“Mm,” he hummed, pretending not to notice your weakness as he shifted his hand to your temple. “You’re burning up.” You knew he was taunting you when his hand slipped down to your neck, pressing against your scorching skin and sending goosebumps through your body. Your heart felt like it would leap out of your chest any time soon.

When he pulled his hand away, you felt like you could die on the spot as the fever-like heat came back immediately after. You tried to remain impartial, shaking your head to gather your thoughts enough to speak.

“Why couldn’t you have just performed the experiment on your own?” you questioned, wiping your forehead roughly to be rid of the light sheen of sweat coating your skin. “I don’t see how an external test subject was necessary.” Remaining as professional as possible seemed like your best course of action. Insanity or not, this was still a test—you were sure of it—and there was no way you would fail a personal test with Professor Crane and risk falling from such high esteem with him.

He reached behind him where his suit jacket lay neatly on the back of his seat. He removed a second handkerchief from an inside pocket with a dramatic whip, taking his glasses off to clean them as he shook his head. “No, no, no,” he said. “If my theory is correct, the test must be performed with another person present. The substance works by increasing adrenaline. It’s quite similar to my fear toxin.”

You shook your head, “Fear toxin–”

“The adrenaline builds and builds,” he continued, cutting you off with little regard for you, as he glanced through the lenses, “increases the heart rate so much that—if left unresolved—the subject would experience a heart rate so high…” He finished polishing them off before replacing his glasses on the bridge of his nose and directing his analytical gaze toward you once more. With a lurking smile full of sadistic amusement, he spoke in a low voice, “...your little heart would burst in your chest.”

The anxiety curled in your chest until it began its fast evolution to fear. All these emotions mixing within you wasn’t good for your health—and, apparently, neither was this toxin he had infected you with. “...What?” you said. It was the only thing you could manage to say.

He shrugged, tilting his head with a slight roll of his eyes. “Well,” he began to correct himself, “not literally, of course. It’s highly improbable. But your heart would just…stop.” His eyes seemed to darken as he explained it to you, staring too deeply into your own anxious gaze as he seemed to enjoy every minute of this. With a breath, he began again. “And while my toxin has an antidote, there is only one way to reverse the effects of this aphrodisiac.”

You swallowed thickly. “Which is?”

He smirked, though he tried to hide it. “Sexual gratification.”

If you weren’t burning up, your blood would run cold…and then you’d run just as hot as you were running now. Your head was definitely spinning now, images of forbidden desires—which you had pushed down, down to the depths of your mind—flooding to the surface. So many fantasies, so many urges, being unlocked once more as you thought about…reversing the effects.

But, for the millionth time,  he was your professor. It didn’t matter how many times you’d fantasized about him having you on your knees, his hands in your hair, his lips all over your body…it couldn’t happen. It shouldn’t happen.

You tried not to clear your throat. It would make you more guilty than you already were. “W-well–” Damn it, you cringed. “–even if that’s true…gratification can be…achieved through…”

He raised a brow, happy to mock you. “Through?”

You took in a steadying breath, looking down at your legs to avoid looking up at him. Your skin was burning, your nerves were tingling with an increasing desire “Through self-pleasure. Masturbation. Couldn’t it?” You were already this far, there was no use in being shy.

But even then…

He tilted his head, sighing. “Unfortunately, no,” he said. “You see, once it has been ingested in any form, only another person's hormones can slow the process—which is why you’re still so in control right now–” you didn’t feel in control, “–but even that isn’t enough. In males, sexual gratification can only be achieved by the release of semen when mixed with a woman’s arousal. Likewise, for a female subject, gratification can only be met through insemination.”

He said it so quickly, so nonchalantly. You had no time to process as you blinked rapidly. “Insem–”

“Therefore, a partner is necessary for the experiment, and only a partner of the opposite sex is truly effective, so…I suppose that’s a loss for the homosexuals, hm?” He shrugged, amused by his own joke.

Pain spasmed in your stomach, a sharp stab in your gut and a stinging sensitivity to everything your skin came in contact with. “Fuck,” you sighed, folding over slightly just as a growing migraine became present enough to matter.

He sighed. “Language, please.”

You rubbed your palms harshly against your eyes, forcing your fingertips against your temple in a useless attempt to ease the pain roaring in your head, sacrificing the stabbing in your gut. “It hurts.” It took everything not to sob.

He turned his head. “What kind of pain?”

“All of the above,” you said impatiently, your voice breaking. “It hurts.”

He hummed and leaned forward. “And where does it hurt the most?” He gestured to your general body. “Or is it just about the same everywhere?”

“It's…” you hesitated, “everywhere.”

Crane tilted his head, looking at you with a glow of disappointment. He removed his glasses with a sigh, setting them to the side and directing his attention entirely on you.

“Now, my dear,” you shuddered at the name, “This doesn't work if you aren't being completely and entirely honest with me. I am quite content to sit here and watch you succumb to my little toxin.” A wash of shock overtook you, your palpitating conflicted between beating too fast and stopping all together.

He continued, a taunting grin curving his lips as he gave you his cold stare. “Without me to help you,” he shrugged, “you have no way of reversing the effects. I'll say you came down with a sudden fever, one you just couldn't fight.”

The hair along your arms stood tall. He couldn't be serious, it was a joke… But when have you known Jonathan Crane to joke?

“But…” you fumbled, trying to decide what to say, “But I've been perfectly healthy. Why would people believe you?”

He tilted his head, looking at you like you were just the cutest, dumbest little thing. “This is Gotham, sweetheart.” He shrugged dismissively. “People die every day, and no one fucking cares.”

Breathing heavily, you put a hand over your stomach and let out a pained moan. You thought to yourself, over his words. You shook your head, not meeting his eyes.

“Cramps.”

He raised a brow questioningly. “Hm?”

“The pain,” you stated. “Stomach cramps, tender nipples and…and clitoris. Even the fabric of my clothes is too much. It hurts.” You ignored the heat in your face. It didn't matter now—the insecurity, the awkwardness. It was strictly scientific. Of course, it was.

“Very good,” he grinned, leaning back and crossing his legs. “Tell me more.”

“Tunnel vision, dizziness, migraine, short breath. It's like… it's almost like a panic attack.”

“Is that all?”

“It's really hot,” you huffed, another pained moan escaping through your unsteady breaths. “I'm really hot.” It didn't matter. “Fuck, professor, I need you.”

“What's that?” The fucker was getting off on teasing you like this, mocking you like it was his only pleasure in life.

“I need you,” you urged, trying not to sound as whiny as you feel.

“Is that so?” he raised a brow, smirking. “Have you told me everything then?”

“Yes, everything. Please.”

“Are you certain?” he pushed.

You felt the wet on your cheek and realized your need and the pain had reached your eyes, the tears welling along your waterline and dropping down in one streak down your face. “Please, I'll do anything!”

He paused slightly. “What's that?”

You reached out and grabbed his hands, pulling them into your lap. There was only one way to ease the pain, the heat, the desire. And you were set on it.

“I'll do anything! Just please, fuck me. Please,” you gasped, pushing through the pounding in your head and the fire in your core.

“Well,” he sighed, pulling his hand from your grasp to check his watch. He tsked to himself, thinking before he hummed. “I suppose I can do that.”

You could have cried—you were crying. “Thank you,” you sighed. “Thank you.”

“But,” he pointed a finger at your face, as though you were a dog being disciplined, “you must do as I say.”

You nodded urgently. “Yes, sir.”

“Good girl.” You shuddered at his words, the praise washing over you like a wave swallowing you whole as you lay on the sandy shore of a beach.

He snapped at you, indefinitely grabbing your attention as he pointed to the space in front of him. You stood from the bed in a moment, your weak legs barely holding you up.

His hands landed on your waist, and you nearly melted at the contact. He turned you around in his hands, looking you up and down with an appreciative moan. “Let's see what we're working with,” he said. “Strip.” The order was plain and simple.

You did as you were told, trying not to be shy about it. He didn't care about shyness, and it didn't matter anyway.

You began peeling your clothes off, moving faster with each inch of skin revealed. Once you were bare in front of him, you fought the overwhelming urge to cover yourself. He wanted to see you, to see what you had to offer.

He hummed to himself, snapping again. “On your knees.” Again, you did as you were told.

Moving to your knees, he took your face in his large hands. You melted against him, your eyes fluttering shut as a deep moan escaped you. His hands felt so cool in comparison to your burning skin. If you weren't so desperate for more of what he had to offer, you would be perfectly content with sitting here and having him hold you like this.

When his hands lightly smacked your cheeks, your eyes snapped open as you brought yourself out of the sticky feeling of the subtle pleasure. “Keep your eyes open. And open your mouth.”

You parted your lips, and he slipped his thumb between them and pried your mouth open wide. He set his thumb on your tongue, pulling it over your bottom set of teeth and pushing his thumb farther into your mouth. Your breaths blew over his skin as he felt the softness of your cheeks, your tongue.

He surprised you when his hand was suddenly between your thighs, his fingers stroking through your folds as you gasped. “Jesus, you're fucking dripping.” He ran his fingers along your lower lips and the insides of your thighs where the arousal was smothered halfway down your thighs.

You whimpered and whined when he shoved his middle and ring fingers inside of you without warning, delving them into your hot, dripping, tight pussy. You tried not to squirm at the way his fingers wiggled inside you.

“Yes,” he sighed. “This'll do nicely.”

He pulled them out of you, shoving those same fingers between your lips to make you taste your arousal. “Suck,” he commanded. You obeyed.

You suckled around his fingers and felt another rush of molten arousal wash through you at the way he stares at you, his eyes dark and primal. You needed him.

“Strip me,” he said, pulling his hand away. From your knees, you unbuttoned his shirt and removed it, letting your hands press against the expanse of his chest and soothe you the slightest bit. You unbuckled his best and shoved his pants down his legs, removed it from his body like undoing ropes tying him to a chair.

You stared at his briefs, his half-hard erection tenting them as he enjoyed the sight of your mindless struggling. He placed a hand in your hair, gripping a fistful and holding you securely. “Now be a good girl and suck my cock.”

You pulled his boxers down without hesitation and only faltered as you saw him for the first time. This was absurd. You never thought you'd find yourself in this situation—staring at your professor’s erection, long and hard and flushed with his own lust for your body, about to wrap your lips around it.

You gripped him in your hand and he stifled a grunt at the feeling of your insistence. You stroked him a few times before sticking your tongue out and licking a long strip up the underside of his cock, tasting his precum beading at the tip and immediately becoming addicted to the taste. Whether it was him or just his toxin, the taste of him was mesmerizing, and you would do anything for more.

You wrapped your lips around him, suckling around the tip and taking him deeper. He let his head fall back just a bit, still watching you as his thighs clenched and his hair gripped your hair tighter. He did not guide you or push you down, he didn't think he needed to. You surprised him as you bobbed your head up and down his cock, taking him farther and farther down with each trip back and forth until he was filling your throat with his length and making you gag.

He grunted as you suckled some more. Your cunt clenched around nothing, aching for any kind of pressure as your clit pulsed and your walls fluttered. You ran a hand down your body, dipping between your thighs to try and ease some of the tension. You pressed down hard on your clit one time, a moan coming from your throat and shivering through his spine.

He pulled you by your hair off of his cock. “Did I say you could touch yourself, sweetheart?” You shook your head pathetically. “Then why are you doing it?”

You couldn't win this, you knew that. Using your desperation as regret, you frowned and whispered, “Sorry, sir.”

He loosened his grip enough to let you get back to work, still holding onto you as he leaned back again. Your lips found his cock once more, addicted and able to ignore the burn for now, a short escape from the pain.

You swirled your tongue around him, suckling as you went along. Crane stared at you with a dark gaze as you sucked him off. You flattened your tongue against him, going farther down his length with each swallow around his tip. Sticky white precum continued to seep from his slit and onto your tongue. You were drunk on the taste of him, taking him as best you could.

Crane looked like a dream, his head tilted back and his lips parted as you brought him closer and closer to a great release. Both his hands were tangled in your hair by now, holding on to you and his remaining control.

He was right about the hormones. Being this close to him, inhaling the scent of his cologne, the scent of his skin swirling around your head, was easing the searing desperation.

You felt him twitching on your tongue and suckled around him a little more. He was close, you could feel it. You didn't know if it was his toxin or not, but the idea of him spilling all over your tongue drove you crazy with lust.

He began to tense and groaned. “And that's enough of that,” he huffed, pulling you off of him by your hair and keeping you back, even through your attempts at licking the precum spilling from his tip.

“My, my,” he breathed. “Such a desperate little thing.”

You caught your breath as you spoke, your lips swollen and your eyes hooded as you did. “I need you,” you begged, gripping his thighs tight.

“Well,” he stood, snapping and gesturing for you to stand as well—you obeyed. “You'll have to be patient, sweetheart. I'm not through with my tests yet.” You whined. “Lay down.”

You did as told once again. He looked over your body, running a finger down the center of you, from your collarbone to your pelvis. You shuddered and whimpered but said nothing.

“I don't have any cuffs in here, so a tie will have to work.” He found his jacket draped along the back of his chair and pulled the tie neatly tucked inside of it out.

You held your breath as he reached for your hands, grabbing your wrists and holding them above your head. He put them around the bars of the headboard and, with more skill than you expected, tied them together to keep you bound there.

He gave a content sigh at the sight of you, smiling to himself. His eyes found yours as his fingertips grazed your side “Now, you can be as loud as you want. No need to hold back. We're all alone in here.”

He stood over you as his palm smoothed along your skin, reaching further down until he found your mound, slick and hot and waiting for something to slip inside it.

Your breath quickened in anticipation, waiting for him to make his move as his fingers played with your skin. Holding eye contact, he slipped his finger inside of you, parting your folds and burying itself in deep.

Your head lolled back as you moaned, the sound sticky with lust. He sank in deep, inch by torturous inch. You held your breath in your, feeling each little bit disappear, knuckle by knuckle, inside.

A second finger joined the first, spreading you open for him. They thrust and curled inside you. You moaned and found yourself grinding your hips into his palm. You needed more, more of him, the bliss of his fingers spread through your body to ease the fire and feed it all at the same time.

“Professor,” you whimpered. “More, please.”

“Hm?” he taunted. “That's not enough for you? You need more?”

“Yes, please,” you gasped.

You clenched around his fingers, feeling him pumping his fingers in and out of you. He curled them against a sweet spot deep within your dripping cunt, exploring your body and becoming familiar with each little nook and cranny. Your back arched and your moans were loud in the space of the bedroom. You had never felt so good before, just by his hands alone.

When his speed increased, you thought you would cry. The dizziness was eased by his pleasure, the headache had waned enough for you to see, and the pain in your stomach had simmered to a dull ache. But his fingers stuffed inside only seemed to heighten the heavy pulse in her veins.

You pulled at the tie wrapped around your wrists as you whined. “Professor, please,” you huffed. “I can't take it. I—fuck—needa cum.”

Letting out what seemed to be a disinterested sigh, he shrugged. “Since you want it so bad…” His thumb pressed against your clit and your back arched slightly at the contact.

You cursed breathily, seeing stars as the pleasure grew and grew and grew at the expertise of his hand. You thought you were going to explode, reaching your peak far too quickly as a knot began to build in your stomach. You tensed, clenching around his fingers as he spread them and curled them and pumped them in and out of you.

“Fuck, can I cum?” you moaned. “Please, professor, I need it so bad.”

He didn’t answer you, rubbing your clit in tight, fast circles as he felt you flutter around his fingers, he listened to your unsteady breath and felt your trembling thighs. You could feel yourself reaching that point, on the verge of finding that bliss…

You whimpered meekly when he suddenly stopped. Watching you with a dark smile, he chuckled as you squirmed and tried to move your hips against his hand. A tear slipped down the side of your face as the pain returned, sharper this time and spreading through your body like you’d been shocked.

“Dr. Crane, please,” you cried, squirming like a worm on a hook.

He laughed at you, looking your body up and down as he disregarded your need and spoke. “How do you feel?” he asked.

Another tear joined the first. “Please, I can’t.”

He tutted, shaking his head. “Ah-ah. Answer my question or I’ll stop completely.”

“No!” you exclaimed. “Please, it hurts. So bad, everything hurts.”

He nodded, “Good girl.” He rewarded you with the movement of his hand once more, filling you back up with his fingers and thrusting them into you.

You were blinded by the pleasure and continued to ride it out, unknowingly that he was beginning a cycle. He would have you crying, breaking down in tears and so desperate to cum all over his hand, only to rob you of such pleasure every time you got close to tasting it. And it hurt. All of it hurt, like you were being burned alive. The imaginary flames licked at your flesh and threatened to sear it off your bones.

You didn’t know how many times he’d done this cruel act upon you, how long you’d been laying there with your legs spread open wide and his fingers shoved inside of you, too caught up in the pain and the ecstasy of it all. “C-Crane,” you muttered, your lips and your tongue lazy with dissatisfaction. “Please.”

You could tell how fun this experiment was for him, and not even in just the sadistic way. He watched you closely, his eyes hooded and dark and his cheeks pink. His cock was still hard, maybe harder still in a painful way that your useless sounds helped him to ignore.

He hummed deeply, considering another dance with desperation. But he let out a deep sigh and shrugged. “I suppose,” he said, his thumb, which had been lazily rubbing too-slow circles on your clit, picking up once again.

And you were so scared it was a trick, that he would pull away and leave you to sob again at the loss of stimulation. The knot built, the dam overflowed, and as you reached your breaking point, you gasped when it all came loose. Your back arched, and you went blind as the pleasure crashed down on you like nothing you’d ever felt.

You cried out his name—or some garbled version of his name that came with not being in touch with your own body. You moaned, breathing too fast and dizzying yourself with your harsh breaths as you did. Crane smiled as he watched you, coaxing you through it as he noted just how good this orgasm must have felt for you.

“Look at you go,” he smiled, still rubbing your clit as he watched the last spasms of pleasure shoot through you. You were so pretty like this, writhing in bed as you came on his hand for the first time, whimpering and whining like a dog.

He pulled his hand from you, darting his tongue to lick the bottom lip of his wolfish grin.

As you began to settle, you let in a deep breath to fill your lungs, laying back lazily as you were offered a moment of stillness. All the pain from before was gone, the thumping in your heart calmed to a slightly quickened ut otherwise rhythmic beat. You could breathe.

Crane was staring at his watch, looking between you and it as he seemed to time something. You paid him little mind, soaking up the calm for as long as you had it.

It was all too soon that the pain began to slip back in, first as a distant sting in your head, then as the dull ache in your stomach. As your breath sped again at the slowly increasing ache, so too did your heart once more. Then the sensitivity of your skin, the burn of your goosebumps rubbing against the sheets or clashing cruelty with the air.

Unable to take so much, you began to cry. “Professor,” you spoke shakily. “Fuck, it hurts. It fucking hurts so bad. I can't—I can't, I can't.”

“Two minutes and seventeen seconds,” he stamped. “It took two minutes for the aphrodisiac to kick in again after the first orgasm has been reached.”

He stared at you, rubbing his bottom lip and sighing with a distant smile. “Oh, the things I want to do to you,” he mumbled. “To make you cum over and over and over again until you're,” he sighed longingly, his eyes fluttering and his jaw clenching with an urge he tried to conceal, “sobbing, trembling in my hands, begging me to stop.”

You shuddered, wanting it so badly but also dreading the opposite of this torture, where you would never stop shaking, never be able to calm as he pulled an orgasm after you one right after the other.

He shook himself out of his daydream. “But, I'm not sure how long you've got. That's an experiment for another day.”

You wanted to say something, but you were at your point in desperation where words were harder and harder to form unless the adrenaline really kicked in.

He positioned himself on the bed, his hand smoothing over your sides. “I bet you need me now, don't you?” Whining pathetically and not caring anymore about sounding decent, you nodded. “Yes, you do. You need me to fuck you, hhh? Take you nice and rough from behind. You need me to fuck you nice and deep, little slut?”

You nodded again, crying, “Please.”

He stood on his knees in front of you, taking your body in his hands and flipping you around, not caring for a moment that you were still tied to the bed frame with your arms now crossed.

He pulled you up on your knees and put your ass on display for him. His hands slapped down on your ass, rubbing harshly on the skin as you whined.

“Be a good girl and beg me to fuck you, sweetheart,” he breathed.

Had you not begged enough? You couldn't count the amount of times you'd told him “Please, professor, please,” and been denied for the sake of his sadism?

Still, you were desperate and you could care less at the moment about his urge to humiliate you. So you did beg, your pounding heart squeezing tears out of your eyes.

“Please, Crane,” you sobbed. “Please, I need you so fucking bad. It hurts, please.”

You were about to continue pouring your heart out when he cut you off. “Okay, okay,” he chuckled. “Calm down. It's not that serious.”

He took his cock in his hand, stroking himself a couple times as he spread your folds for him. In one push, he buried himself to the hilt inside of your tight pussy. He groaned roughly as you clenched around his cock and moaned.

“So fucking tight,” he sighed. “You've been needing this, haven't you?”

You moaned deep in your throat, melting at the feeling of him buried so deep. He chuckled, high off the sight of you so weak. He pulled out of you, an agonizingly slow drag that burned at your nerves until he suddenly thrust back in with a harsh thrust. You lost your breath, your lungs squeezed tight at the pleasure.

He grunted, doing it again and again and again as he just kept holding you tighter, pulling you back to meet each thrust. The smack of his hips against your ass was loud and followed in quick succession as he gave you no time between each thrust to recover.

You felt like your brain had melted, reduced to. a pile of mush in your head as you let yourself be devoured by the pure ecstasy of each thrust staving off the pain of the toxin burning you out.

You gripped the sheets, clenching and unclenching and trying so hard to keep it together as he split you open on his cock.

Crane was hardly keeping it together himself, gripping your waist as he fucked into you from behind. His hair had fallen over his eyes, which were dark and crazed. He had you in his clutches—you, his prey and he, your predator, his teeth and claws in your flesh and bone.

“Is this everything you imagined?” he huffed, bringing a hand to wrap around your throat and pull you up.

You clenched tighter around him and felt your limbs going weak—if he hadn't been holding you up, you would have fallen against the bed again.

“W-What?” you gasped, small and pathetic.

He laughed darkly. “You think I didn't know? What, you thought I couldn't see the way you stared at me during my lectures? You thought I didn't see your glances at my crotch, wondering how big my cock was? Huh? How good it would feel if I fucked you?”

You just kept moaning, unable to hold in your pleasures sobs. He fucked you a little harder, pulling more and more out of you as he did. “Why do you think I chose you, huh?” he taunted, laughing again. “You were perfect for the role. My cock hungry student who would do anything to impress me. Fuck, you were practically begging to be the subject of this experiment.”

It was hard to listen to him when you could barely focus on your own pleasure. Your arousal was dripping down your thighs, coating you in slick. He just kept fucking you, drunk on the pleasure.

“N-Need,” you stuttered, trying to form the words as your tongue was not your own. “Mm-fuck, needa cum.”

He didn't say anything this time as he pressed his finger to your clit. You went limb, letting yourself fall onto the bed as you whined pathetically.

“Look at you,” he smiled, his head tilted back as he relished in the squeeze of your cunt. “My little fucking whore. Does it feel good?” He laughed again, rubbing your clit a little faster. “Are you gonna cum on my cock like a pathetic slut? Hm?”

To answer his question, you did. You let out a choked cry when you came, your eyes rolling back as you went blind with the pleasure that crashed down on you. Your whole body shattered, and your thighs shook at the pleasure.

“Oh, fuck,” he huffed as you began tighter, your pussy fluttering around him and only bringing him closer to his own longed-for release. “That's a good fucking girl.”

Your head was filled with white-noise as you floated in that space between orgasms, where your whole body was numb to everything else going on. As he kept fucking you, it didn't last long. You came to and found yourself thrown into another dance of lust.

You chased the pleasure, pleading for it to swallow you whole as you took all that he gave to you. “You like that? You like being ruined by me? Hm?” he breathed, still rubbing your clit, even as you squirm.

You didn't respond, overcome by whining moans. But that was more amusing. “I know you do,” he said. “You liked being fucked dumb, don't you?”

His hips continued to snap into yours, shoving deeper and rougher. His finger on your clit continued to build you up, higher and higher.

“Are you gonna cum again?” he asked, his thrusts becoming sloppy as he kept fucking into you. “Yeah? You're squeezing my cock like you are.”

You managed to nod your head and nothing more, the knot building again in your stomach getting so tight, so close to another blinding release. You braced for it as it grew closer.

“Fuck, I'm gonna cum, too,” he breathed. “Gonna cum—so deep inside you. You'll be dripping with me, sweetheart.”

You mewled, closer and closer to–

A loud cry tore from your throat as you came again, blinded and devoured and reduced to nothing but a sobbing mess as the pleasure shook through your body like a rattle.

Unable to hold himself in anymore, he moaned roughly as he spilled so deep inside of you. He gripped you roughly, pulling you back against his cock as he buried himself deep, grinding into you as he fucked his cum inside so you were stuffed with it.

“Fuck, I love this tight little cunt,” he huffed. “Perfect for me.” Your pussy fluttered around him, squeezing him tight as you squelched and gushed around him.

You lay limp against the sheets as the blood roared in your ears. After a moment, when he'd caught his breath and came down from his high, he pulled out of you and let you fall against the bed.

He breathed, letting out a deep sigh. He looked down at you, your spent body still shaking with the aftershocks of pleasure. He picked up your leg, pulling it apart to see your pussy, stuffed and leaking his cum.

He could have cum again at the mere sight of you, your messiness, your exhaustion. He dropped your leg and sat next to your limp body.

“Now,” he said, another breath leaving his lungs. “How do you feel?”

You just lay there, letting out a tiny moan after a while as your only response as you tried to recover. All the pain had disappeared, and all that was left was the heaviness in your limbs and the sore muscles to come.

He hummed a laugh. “I bet.” He reached for his glasses, putting them on the bridge of his nose once more and adjusting them.

He stood, walking somewhere in the room as your eyes followed him. When he picked up a camera hidden in the corner capturing everything that just happened, you couldn't do anything but think about how you wanted to watch it back and see just how much he'd wrecked your body.

He stopped the recording, setting the camera down with a smile. He looked at you again, kneeling in front of the bed as he rested his chin on his hands. “So many things for us to do, so many experiments to run. And now I've got you,” he chuckled, “my own personal lab rat.”

You watched him lazily, the exhaustion pulling at your system. He leaned forward and pressed his lips to yours. You sighed into the kiss, moving as much as you could as your lips melded together. It breathed life into you, more life than it should have.

He pulled away all too soon, standing up and turning away from you as he left the room. You laid there a moment longer, thinking back over the events of the night. His own personal lab rat.

You smiled.

Cillian Murphy taglist: @lyarr24​ @runnning-outof-time​ @goblinjnr @kmc1989 @shelbyism @weepingwitchofthewest @cl-0-vr @thoticious @sinarainbows @the-nerdy-goddess @urmomsgirlfriend1 @bernelflo @dragonslayersupremacy @alurafairy @pietroxreader @darkcastle167 @neonpurplestars89-blog Tag yourself here...

[quirrrky]

—•✦ 𝙎𝙏𝘼𝙉𝘿𝙄𝙉𝙂 𝙉𝙀𝙓𝙏 𝙏𝙊 𝙔𝙊𝙐

KUROO, your business partner and bestfriend, had one birthday wish and that's for you to attend a party as his fiancee, his fake fiancee

3k+ f!reader, friends to lovers, fake dating

ꨄ︎ happy birthday to the male lead of my life! wishing you'd finally show up for real now lmao

“So Kuroo, you’re turning thirty this weekend, right?”  

“No, sir, just twenty-nine.” Kuroo gave a stiff and stony grin. Mr. Onitsuka, the CEO of the sportswear company he was trying to get as a sponsor, happened to be a rigid family man.

“Just twenty-nine...” There’s certainly some hint of disappointment with how it sounded from the older man.  

Kuroo gulped and bit the inside of his cheeks. This deal was his most important thus far. We’re dealing with one of Japan’s prestigious brands. He couldn’t let this opportunity pass, especially that he just recently got promoted as the Sports Ambassador for the Japan Volleyball Association. 

“Well, we can feature our players-” 

“You mean athletes.” Mr. Onitsuka corrected. 

Kuroo gulped and almost banged his head against the nearest wall. Of course, athletes! Not players.  

Not a “player” like...him.  

Who would’ve thought that his singleness was not a good credential for the strictly traditional man in front of him? Everyone who’d see the specimen of a man Kuroo was could tell that he had a high market value among the ladies, which screamed one thing. He must be a player! 

“Yes, that’s right. Athletes...”  

“Look, Kuroo, it’s clear that you had everything well-planned out.” Mr. Onitsuka closed the folder. “But I’m sure you can’t do all this by yourself...” 

“I know someone who could cover this partnership.” Kuroo beamed, excitedly. His face lit up like he had the most brilliant plan out of his pocket. “We’ve been together and conquered a lot by now. I would even bet my life to guarantee you that she is the best!” He pronounced, loud and proud. 

“I never heard about her before.” Mr. Onitsuka's expression changed into something a bit lighter. “So when did the both of you start together?” 

At last! He’s passing the test. Kuroo thought. 

“Oh, me and Y/N? We began working on a project about a year ago and we really hit it off so well. Our chemistry’s just...out of this world.” 

Kuroo’s phone rang with the Star Wars’ Imperial March, a ringtone you personally assigned for yourself. Mr. Onitsuka saw your name and said, signaling for Kuroo to answer the phone, “Your girlfriend.” 

In a slight panic, Kuroo almost juggled the phone in his hand. For a short while, he thought that he was now accepted by Mr. Onitsuka, however there seemed to be a misunderstanding. He wanted to clear it up, but he had to answer you first... 

“H-Hello...” Kuroo gulped. “How’s my girl?” He saw a tinge of disappointment on Mr. Onitsuka's face, and he got agitated, mindlessly spouting things off. “How’s my beautiful...” Of course, he couldn’t say girlfriend. “Bride...” Shit! That's too sudden, so he added. “...to-be.” Bride to-be? 

Oh crap. He ran his mouth without thinking. 

You laughed. “Wait...Are you drunk?” 

“Mhm hmmm...so drunk on you, only on you, babe.” Kuroo winked at Mr. Onitsuka, who was obviously enjoying the show he was putting on. 

“What have you gotten yourself again, Tetsu?” You cracked up and followed, “Hey...listen, I already reserved the bar for your birthday party. It’s all good now.” 

“You’re the best! Wait, love. Just hold on a sec, okay? I’m in the middle of a meeting, but I’ll be there in a heartbeat once this is done.” 

You scrunched your face, laughing. “What’s wrong with you? Are you being hit on by an old lady again?” 

Kuroo chuckled, genuinely. Oh...that smartmouth of yours... 

“Let’s talk about it in a few, alright? See you the soonest, sweetheart. Bye bye, love you.” He hung up and sighed apologetically at Mr. Onitsuka. “Sorry about that. My woman needs me.” 

“Then I suggest you go to her right away. You musn’t keep her waiting.” Mr. Onitsuka said, sounding more relieved to have found out that JVA Sports Ambassador Kuroo Tetsurou was a “committed” man. “If that’d be my wife, I’ll be having an earful by now.” The older man oddly broke his rigid exterior and laughed.  

“I’ll take that advice to heart,” Kuroo affirmed. 

“I’ll be sending the documents with my signature within the week.” Mr. Onitsuka extended his hand and Kuroo shook it. “It was nice meeting you, Kuroo. I’ll see you and your fiancee on your birthday party.” 

Kuroo chuckled, nervously. “Can’t wait, sir.” 

Now, he’s left with convincing you to be his future wife even just for a night.  

⋆ ˚ ꩜ ｡ ⋆୨୧˚

As the new sports ambassador for JVA, Kuroo now carries the image of the sport, well, including its athletes. As much as it’s great to recognize that Volleyball athletes were good-looking, values such as commitment must be reflected as well. Kuroo knew that.  

Though he admittedly had a past of dating around and exploring his options, it wasn’t the deal now. Kuroo wanted to commit but...he wanted to be slow and careful... 

Opening up the door to the restaurant, he immediately spotted you browsing on your phone. He didn’t miss the look of the man seated beside you on one of the bar stools. He sighed. Another one of those bastards... 

Approaching you, Kuroo wrapped an arm around your shoulders and planted a kiss on your forehead. “So, how’s the check-up? Is our little peanut okay? I’m sorry I missed it.” He said, making sure that the man heard.  

You subtly rolled your eyes and answered back, “He just kicked inside me now like he wanted to kick you instead.” 

Kuroo acted animatedly amused. “Sounds like his mother. That’s too early.” Taking the other seat beside you, he swiveled your chair so you’re facing him.  

“Last week you put a ring on me and now it’s a baby.” You snickered. “What’s next, Tetsu? Retirement plan?” 

“Come on. I’m just being the best bestfriend there is. Plus, you have saved my ass a million of times too.” 

Indeed, you didn’t know when it started but you and Kuroo played as each other’s fake partner whenever you’re both being hit on by strangers you didn’t like.  

“Yeah, remind me to pose as your lovesick wife next time.” You joked and Kuroo rubbed his chin. 

“Maybe at my birthday party?” He suggested. 

You took a sip of your juice. “Yeah, sure.” 

“No, seriously, though.” He took your hand and held it firmly. “Mr. Onitsuka...” 

“Oh, Family Guy...” 

“Exactly! I...” He’s now starting to take out his greatest weapon, his sad boy pout and unfortunate doe eyes. 

Oh. “How did you mess up this time?” 

His hold on your hand tightened. “I might’ve made it seem like we’re getting married.” 

That explained the cheesy lovey-dovey petnames a while ago. 

You were speechless. Kuroo’s not the one to lie. He’s always the straightforward guy, so... “How the hell did that...” 

“I don’t know. Man, he’s been grilling me with my life plan, my age and all, that I had a slip-up.” 

Well, you’ve done this countless times before, but his birthday party was a different thing. His friends and some colleagues will be there. You looked at your joined hands and then back at his troubled expression. 

“Y/N, just for my birthday, please...” Kuroo pleaded, “Be my lovesick wife even just for that day.” 

⋆ ˚ ꩜ ｡ ⋆୨୧˚ 

Kuroo leaned on his car as he marveled at you so breathtakingly beautiful in a red dress. Playfully, he whistled. “It might be hard for me to think this is all pretend when you’re doing some serious damage on me with that dress.” 

Equally, you admired how handsome he was in that black sweater, and got lost at the sight of him that you almost trip on your wat to his side. Almost.

“Don’t worry. I’ll keep you in check.” Lightheartedly, you set an alarm in your smartwatch. “You got me until midnight, love.” 

The two of you laughed. 

Today’s the big day. Tetsu’s birthday. And yes, the birthday part did get you to agree to his "proposal". 

In no time, you reached the little bar you rented. It was cozy and had a little dancefloor and disco lights that could make the activities later on at night extra special.

You assisted in arranging a party for him, inviting his close friends and some colleagues. No lies, you’re a little nervous. This was different from the strangers you’d been fooling. 

This is it...  

Kuroo pulled you closer to him, grabbing you by the waist. “You got this, sweetheart.” He brought your hand to his lips. You gave him a prim smile and he opened the door for you.  

You were welcomed by familiar faces which put you at ease, while he had a hand at the small of your back. All the worries you had earlier dissipated. Having Kuroo right next to you like this made you feel more confident.  

Though everyone had their eyes on the two of you, everything about this situation felt natural. The electricity that surrounded you...It was so strong. The chemistry you had the first time you met was glowing in front of everyone right now. You could tell that they looked at you and Kuroo like you’re made for each other.  

“Here comes the future Mr. and Mrs. Kuroo,” Kenma welcomed, mischievously knowing fully well what the both of you were up to.

Lev greeted, “Happy Birthday and Congratulations!”  

“What? I thought you two are already married!” Bokuto remarked, which shocked the both of you. “I mean... ever since you two got along, Kuroo talked about nothing but you. I even got a little sad because I thought I wasn’t invited.” 

Kuroo was just pretending not to be affected by all this, but he’s definitely dying on the inside as Bokuto ratted him out. Slowly, you tilted your head to sneak a glance at your “fiance”. 

“W-What?” he asked. 

You giggled and teased, “I didn’t know I’ve been on your mind a lot.”  

Kuroo just simply scoffed. This was totally not how he planned things to work out.  

Mr. and Mrs. Onitsuka finally arrived at the scene. Kuroo squeezed your hand as if you were going to face the biggest challenge of your life.  

“Kuroo,” The old man called as he patted Kuroo’s shoulder, “Happy Birthday, boy!” 

This was shocking. Mr. Onitsuka went from a scary strict dad to a friendly goofy one. It must be the effect of being with you.  

“Thank you, sir. Ma’am,” Kuroo acknowledged Mrs. Onitsuka’s presence, taking her hand and placing a kiss on her knuckles.  

“Hmm...You sure know your way with the ladies.” The older woman complimented.  

“Gives me headache every now and then,” you said, playfully, which made the old couple laugh.  

“You must be Y/N,” Mr. Onitsuka shook your hand. “Now, I know why you got this boy to settle down.” He patted Kuroo’s chest twice. “You’re such a lucky man to have someone like Y/N right here beside you.” 

“See, even you could tell how bad she got me.” Kuroo glanced at you with an unexplainable softness in his gaze. “So damn bad.” 

The way he looked at you, his smile, his eyes, almost stopped your heartbeat. You felt so little...small? Cute? Weak in the knees? Excuse me. You’re probably smiling like a preschooler having a crush right now, but this felt like a fairytale. Someone must stop you. 

“You both looked so good together I wonder how you fell in love with each other.” Mrs. Onitsuka mused.  

Kuroo confidently replied, “It was love at first sight...” 

You choked up a laughter at his statement. Love at first sight? Crazy.... 

He raised a brow at you with a vexed and hurt expression on his face. 

“Hey, now! It sounds like a Hallmark movie. You can’t blame me,” you reasoned out.  

“But it was the truth!” 

Kuroo took a long and deep inhale. His eyes refused to look back at you as he explained, “When we met for the first time to finalize our partnership for the Volleyball video game project, I really thought you’re beautiful, and as lucky as I am, you’re also smart, funny and someone whom I found comfortable to be myself with.” 

Smiling, you recalled that moment. It wasn’t only him who felt that way that day. “Yeah...that’s...” ...what you felt too. You almost forgot this was all just a pact.  

The two couples found your bickering very amusing, which roused their curiosity even more. “Well...let’s go to the proposal. How did our lady’s man right here propose?” 

“I first asked her to marry me during the successful launch of our first project.” Kuroo shared to spark a memory in you, bashfully rubbing the back of his neck. 

“What?” 

“You really can’t remember?” He complained. 

You explained, “I thought you’re just talking about our next projects to come.” 

He gave you a stare of disbelief like you’re the stupidest, silliest girl alive. 

You paused for a moment, trying to grasp what happened in the past when Mr. Onitsuka cut your musing with a laugh. 

“Those were the days...” Mrs. Onitsuka admiringly commented.  

Mr. Onitsuka sighed. “I guess we’ll leave you two alone then.” 

You and Kuroo bowed your heads as gesture, watching the older couple take their seats.  

A sigh of relief escaped the both of you and you looked at each other chuckling.  

“Let’s go?” Kuroo invited, taking your hand to pull you close to him until he had an arm around your waist. 

You nodded your head, giggling. For the rest of the night, you did nothing but that. He was greeted from time to time, but he’d always return his attention to you. He pulled your chair close to him and playfully fed you with spoonfuls that had your mouth full—ridiculously full that you were swatting his arm almost non-stop.  

You didn’t drink anything alcoholic, but it felt like you were tipsy. You didn’t know where this endless happiness was coming from. It’s that free bubbly feeling that just fizzled out inside you. You were always playful and childlike around Kuroo, but there’s something in this moment that was just different. It was like you were set free–free to express whatever it was you wanted to for a long time.  

Kuroo rubbed your belly, “Looks like our little peanut is getting bigger now.” 

You both laughed at his teasing. “It’s ‘cause you’re feeding me a lot, dummy!”  

“What can I say? I’m just simply being a good provider. Making sure that the love of my life is well-fed and happy.” He boasted and you rolled your eyes.  

Kuroo was so close to you, the warmth of his body surrounding you in full as he had you caged all to himself. Your body moved on its own and you laced your arms around him, burying your face in the crook of his neck. All of a sudden, you didn’t want to let go.  

You didn’t know why, but your heart was about to burst at any moment now. He’s right. You’re... “Happy...” You said with a muted voice. “Birthday, Tetsu.” 

Kuroo embraced you back and even tighter, closing his eyes firmly while he was holding you so close like you’re something that could melt away in his arms at any moment. “I’m happy. I’m very very happy right now, Y/N.” 

He parted a bit, cupping your face with both hands. You searched for his eyes, and he probed yours. Your gaze shifted to his lips while his did the same thing, lingering a little on yours. You swallowed.  

What is this? 

Kuroo bit his lip. His eyelids were getting heavy as he was reaching forward. You had your lips parting a bit, just enough so you’re breathing from the space between.  

What’s happening? What’re you anticipating? 

Slowly, your noses touched. 

Just a little bit more... 

But the speaker close to you started blaring, shocking you both from your little moment and made you laugh instead.  

Kuroo stood up and extended a hand, “Care for a dance?” 

You accepted, taking the dance floor with him. He had his hands on the sides of your waist as you both swayed to the music. Your eyes were not leaving each other’s as you both got lost in the moment, cheeks hurting from the smile that won’t just fade away. 

“Screaming, I testify that we'll survive the test of time they can't deny our love.” The lyrics blazed all over and you let yourselves loose, singing the song together. “They can’t divide us. We’ll survive the test of time. I swear that I’ll be right hereeee!” 

You both burst out laughing at each other with how your voices cracked, failing to hit the high note.  

“I don’t know why it feels like I’m drunk right now,” Kuroo pondered fondly.  

“Drunk on me?” You teased, recalling what he said on the phone last time. 

“Most likely,” he smirked and returned, “You know I didn’t have any alcohol.” 

You laughed. “Yes, because that mouth of yours may run some BS again.” 

“Oh...” He scoffed and rebutted, “You speak as if my mouth is only good at talking.” 

Your quirked a brow up. “What else would it ever be good at?” 

You’re really getting him so bad like this, huh.  

The look in his eyes turned dark and he bit his lip. He stopped dancing, pulled you closer and whispered, “A lot of things.” 

His gaze slickly traveled down your lips thirstily taking in how he wanted them so bad. He grazed back to pin your eyes with a serious stare that showed how he’s already at his limit. You gulped, air got stuck in your chest. You were lost at the sight of his handsome face being accentuated by the colorful lights that you failed to ready yourself when he placed a hand behind your head and brought your lips together. Your eyes automatically closed, arms snaked around his body as he had a hand at the small of your back. Your lips danced, gobbling each other passionately, intensely. You’re taking one another’s breath.  

At that moment, only the two of you existed, intoxicated by each other’s taste and fully consumed by the fire inside you that finally came blazing after a long time being kept hidden. 

Miya Atsumu whistled. “Man, this got me frustrated.” 

“Ugh, get a room.” Oikawa chided, bitterly. 

“Just admit you’re jealous nobody wants to kiss you that way,” Iwaizumi rebutted while Kenma had his phone up, streaming the entire show.  

Your smart watch started alarming, cutting off your kiss. You glanced. It’s already 12 o’clock, which brought you back to reality. This...This was all just an agreement. An odd stabbing pain hit your chest. You looked around and the Onitsukas were nowhere to be found. They must’ve gotten home already. Your heart was knocking loudly in your ear, and you just looked at Kuroo painfully confused. 

All these emotions... 

“Excuse me,” you said, and briskly walked outside the hall.  

Your hands were cold and trembling as you placed them over your lips. It’s done now. You couldn’t run away from it anymore. For so long, you’d been telling yourself it was all just friendship even if you knew that all this time, the person you wanted to be next to you was just him.  

With this heavy feeling in your heart, you knew you wouldn’t be able to handle denying anymore. You love Tetsurou more than just a friend. 

“Y/N!” You heard him called out, and you shut your eyes firm.  

You’d just end up broken if you’d keep on pretending. 

Kuroo held your elbow, and you were swept away when he spun you around so you were facing him. He had you in his arms, with his hands clasped at the small of your back. 

“Tetsu...” You placed a hand on his chest, putting up a boundary. “Mr. and Mrs. Onitsuka went home already.” 

“And so?” He answered, noting that you’re not pushing him away. 

“I-It’s already past 12,” you reasoned out with a shaky voice. 

He bumped his head into yours. “We can have it extended, you know?” His tone was almost begging.  

You chewed on your bottom lip. “What do you mean?” Your heart stammered so hard against your ribcage.  

“The love at first sight, the proposal...they’re all real for me, Y/N.” His voice was staggering that you could feel how nervous and scared he was. Scared of losing you and letting this moment slip away. He might not get another chance. “I slipped up that you’re my bride-to-be because that’s what I’ve been wanting to happen all this time.” He ran the tips of his fingers across your cheek. “I love you, Y/N and should’ve shown you how much a lot earlier”  

“Oh, Tetsu...” you smiled at the brink of tears. “You’re such an idiot!” You lightly smacked his shoulder and scolded, “I thought I’m gonna be single forever because of you, dummy!” 

You both laughed, finally feeling the freedom of having things all let out in the open. 

Leaning close to your face, he teased you with his lips lightly grazing against yours as he spoke. “You’re still not answering me...” he muttered under his breath. “It’s past midnight now. Are we extending?” 

You smiled against his lips and asked, “For how long?”  

Kuroo grinned, pressing your noses together. “Indefinitely.” 

And you answered him with a kiss, knowing that you both won’t have anyone standing next to you aside from each other, indefinitely.  

𝑐𝑒𝑙𝑒𝑏𝑟𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔 w/ my fellow kuroo babes @mayarii-darling @sookisaurus @tetzoro @shidouryusm @kuroosexuall @jotatetsuken @boosyboo9206 💋

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