#this literally caused pain in my hand muscles lmao

[hell0mega]

this is incredibly niche, but what did you expect me to think after watching a movie about forbidden, never-before-seen love that is potentially life threatening to those involved?

[hystixia]

WARNINGS 、NONCON, CHOKING, SIZE KINK, CERVIX FUCKING, DEGRADATION

NOTE 、ignore spelling errors and whatnot. i literally dont even have time to format this properly rn sorry </3 this is lowkey shit so im sorry again LMAO

You don’t know if it’s possible, but Jeff Mason found a way to completely turn your brain off. Your tongue is lolled out, eyes rolled back into your skull as you babble out whimpers and begs and incoherent slurs of his name hanging off your seemingly numb wet muscle. However he is proud of the state you’re in because of him. After all, you were his whether you liked it or not.

“Nothin’ but a dumb fuckin’ slut, huh?” He breathes out with a smirk, breath hot against your neck and his body caging yours against the soft blankets and sheets of your bed. He’s so much bigger, so much stronger than you that despite your efforts to wriggle away from his painfully good thrusts, he keeps you locked in place with his large hands gripping your waist tight enough to leave marks. “That’s right, just a needy cocksleeve, hm? Too dumb to think, just made to take my cock. Isn’t that right, doll?”

You can’t reply, he knows you’re unable to fathom a single response in that fucked dumb head of yours. Yet he still talks to you in a mocking tone, grinning sinisterly at your glassy eyes as you cling to the sheets and gasp loudly in between “ah”s and “omph”s that fall from your bruised lips.

“J-Jef— haah! Jeff—” “Such a whiney bitch, huh? Never shutting that whore mouth’ve yours.” He hisses out, slamming into you impossibly harder and making you scream out until your throat is scratchy and burns. A hand wraps tight around your neck much like a snake would constrict around its prey, cutting off your airflow entirely and causing panic to mix with pleasure and pain. It’s all blurred lines for you, fingers digging into the skin of his wrist as tears fall down your face and his tip brutally kisses against your soft cervix making your gut tighten with overwhelming warmth.

“Gonna cum? Already?” He sneers, tilting his head as black strands tickle against your exposed collarbones. You wish you could talk back, you wish you had the energy and dignity to not behave like a god damn pornstar. “Didn’t know y’were such a cheap whore.” He chuckles, humiliating you further as your walls flutter tight and milk his thick girth as your juices web out and leave a creamy ring around the base of his cock.

However he doesn’t stop, he keeps going and it’s too much to handle. You cry out once more, begging in such a sweet and pathetic voice that it would’ve worked on someone else— anybody else, besides Jeff.

“Expected me to stop?” He laughs, cock twitching against your walls and he’s so close you wonder how he hasn’t caved already. His hand releases your poor neck allowing you to breath right as black spots started to prickle the corners of your vision and your lungs were burning from lack of air. “You don’t get a break, slut. Now shut up and take it.”

[dilfmobius]

fuck it, snippet sunday lmao

Loki winces as he shifts in his chair. They’ve been at this for whatever passes for hours at the TVA, and with every ticking second Loki can feel his bones grinding against each other, his joints and muscles aching with every breath he takes. He can almost feel the fractures splitting his skeleton apart. He flexes his hands on the table, stretches his fingers out and then clenches them into a tight fist. “You okay?” Mobius asks, warily, noticing the pinched look on the god’s face. He takes in Loki’s ragged breathing, and thinks he might actually fall over in his seat. Loki scoffs, instinctively crossing his arms over his chest, and fixes Mobius with a hard stare. Mobius matches him, not a direct challenge, but he is waiting for Loki to answer him. Loki rolls his eyes. “Not that it matters to you. I’ve been tortured, beaten, flung around by a giant green beast, and I landed right on my back when I teleported with the tesseract. Not to mention I’ve been under the mind stone's control. So no, Agent Mobius, I’m not okay!” Loki reels himself back, his words leaving him in a rush of air taking any physical strength he had with them. He squeezes his eyes shut, blocking out the pain. Mobius put his hands up defensively. “Alright, take a breath. Contrary to what you might believe, you’re safe here–“ Loki snorts, “–you are. You’re pretty much in the safest place for a variant here in the TVA. And you’re safe with me. No one can get to you without going through me first.” Loki doubts that, but Mobius saying he's safe with him stirs something in his chest.

i only have bits of this, nothing coherent, just little scenes that i hope to piece together somehow.

there's a whole section i've written with loki "moving in" with mobius that i'm also very proud of, where he's explaining his desire to not cause loki anymore physical pain (i literally wrote: He takes a deep breath before saying, “I have no desire to torture you, Loki.”)

i just wanna write some h/c man,,,

[angel-eyes05]

the scent of you

pairing: fem!hispanic!supervillain!reader x miguel o’hara

summary: after chasing him for so long, you've finally caught him. the infamous spiderman 2099. and now you were going to show him what it was like to be in your grasp

warnings: nsfw, dom!reader, sub!miguel, he's kinda bratty too ngl, bdsm, bondage (miguel is being tied up yet again the poor guy), p in v unprotected, reader's a bit of a psychopath lmao, lots of blood lmao reader has blood manipulation powers so you can imagine how that goes for someone whos constantly compared to a vampire, no use of y/n, no use of miguel's name cause you don't know it lol

word count: 2.0k

notes: im literally writing this at 1 am as a desperate attempt to get my activity back up since no one's reading bite the hand lmao. so of course my first resort is actual porn. also, im aware miguel isn't actually a vampire but i just wanted to give him some vampiric tendencies...just cause lmao its more fun like that. this was fun lets do it again some time lmao

-----------------

You’d always enjoy the hunt. In your line of work, one of Kingpin’s subordinates, it was the main thing you did. Catching those he sent you after, knowing you would always finish the job. Yeah sure, most of the time they were nobodies, but damn if you didn’t love the terrified look on their face just before you went for the kill. 

Dea Tacita, the Roman goddess of the dead, was the name you were given by your victims. You earned it due to your silent killing style, just like how she was also nicknamed as “the silent goddess”. But while you might have been silent, your victims certainly were not. Your ability to manipulate others and your own blood led for particularly painful deaths indeed. Either forcefully ripping the ichor from their body, or slowly raising the temperature of it, basically boiling them alive. 

This most certainly was not the life you had planned for yourself, but you’d grown to deal with it. Hell, sometimes you even loved it. You got high off of the final breathes of your victims once they were gone. 

You were especially ecstatic today. You were put on the task by Kingpin a few weeks ago. A strange figure in a blue and red electronic suit had been popping in and out of Alchemax, stealing tech, and making his getaway in a neon orange, hexagonal portal. It sounded intriguing to you. It became even more intriguing after you saw his massive build for yourself during your first encounter. His tall stature, broad shoulders, and incredibly toned physique. It’s no wonder he beat you within your first couple of battles, even with your powers. But you didn’t mind. 

Losing only meant that you got to see him again. And that he got to pin you down to the floor whenever you two were finished throwing fists at each other. But this was strange. You had gone up against him so many times and had lost, again and again and again. But you had gotten word from one of your own subordinates a few hours ago that he’d finally been caught. Why? Was he giving himself up? No way. You had to go see him for yourself. And then after, you would finish the job.

You strutted down the hallways to the containment room where he was supposedly being kept. You even caught yourself fixing strands of your hair and pressing down on your outfit, dressing up for the occasion. When you opened the door, your knees nearly went weak. The man was sitting there, on that chair that was definitely too small for him, unconscious with his head leaning back behind him. Plus, his mask was off, so now you could finally get a glimpse of that beautiful face of his. Sculpted cheekbones, wavy and slicked back brown hair, and slight gray streaks going through his hair. That wasn’t even the best part. The best part was what was around him.

Rope. Black strings of rope tying him to the chair, carving out each and every one of his muscles, put on by your lackeys, almost as if they knew. His beautiful pecs sitting there so pretty, almost calling out to you, and his legs spread wide open due to his unconscious state. You walked fully into the room, shutting and locking the doors behind you. You leaned on the table that sat in front of him, admiring his beauty. Once you were done undressing him with your eyes, you clenched your hand to get his blood flow to start moving faster, slowly waking him up.

“Hey there Tiger,” you said once his hypnotic, crimson red eyes finally fluttered open. He groaned in response. “Where the hell am I?” he asked, his low drowsy voice sending butterflies into your stomach. “Don’t worry, that won’t be a problem for you soon enough,” you responded, getting up from your lean to walk up closer to him. He squirmed around lightly in his bondage. “You’ve been a little thorn in Kingpin’s side for the past couple of weeks, haven’t you now?” “If thorn in his side means protecting the people of this city, then yeah I guess I have,” he said back, a little strained. You walked up behind him, one hand on his shoulder, and the other knitted into his hair, massaging his scalp. His eyes closed, soft sighs leaking from his lips as your fingers intertwined with his hair. “Mhm,” was all you responded with.

A quick whimper escaped him when you abruptly yanked his hair back so he could look you in the eyes. “That means you’ve been causing trouble for me too, Tiger.” His breathing was heavy as he stared up into your eyes. “So why don’t we just take care of this nice and quickly, hm?” You pushed his head back forward. 

“Would you mind elaborating on tha-.” He was quickly cut off with a groan as you attached your mouth to the crook of his neck, pressing warm kisses into it and light sucks. You made your way all along his neck to his collarbones, finding your way to sit on his lap in the meantime. You could feel his already rock hard cock underneath you. So he did plan this, you thought to yourself. You decided to play along into his little game. You separated your lips from his chest, wrapped your hand underneath the ropes, and yanked him up to you. “Your suit’s digital right? So you can control it with your thoughts?” you asked gently. He nodded. “Take it off.”

His facial expression didn’t budge. “Or what, huh?” You smirked. His expression quickly changed though when he felt his body getting hotter and hotter. It changed again, a strained whimper coming from him, when you yanked his hair backwards again. “Take. It. Off.” Next thing you knew, his tan skin was peaking out from where his suit used to be. The suit must have been a thin layer, because his bare cock underneath your ass now felt just as hard, if not harder, than before. 

You smiled at him. “Much better.” You grabbed his face, but instead of doing what he expected, which was to smash your faces together, you leaned in slowly to him, lips just barely grazing, before you pulled away again. You kept doing this, until he eventually started whining, even going as far as to reach his face forward to yours, getting a chuckle out of you. “Ay coño mamita, would you just get it over with already?” he whined. You smiled at him. “Paciencia querido, paciencia. Mal recompensa que más tarde.” You confirmed this with him once you lifted up your ass and dragged one of your hands to his cock, teasing the tip ever so slightly.

Though even that made his hips jerk forward into you. You stood up, leg on each outside of the chair, teasing at both his cock and his lips. His whines were driving you crazy as you edged him on. After getting tired of it all, the man was finally able to get a hold on your lips. Once he smushed them together with yours, hands still tied back to the chair, you didn’t reject it, and went all in. One hand on his cheek, the other at length, you slipped your tongue in between his lips. You quickly pulled away though when you felt a hard bite down on your tongue. You removed your hand from his penis quickly as you inspected your tongue. “¿Qué mierda?” you asked, agitated. “Ay, discúlpame. Pero no pude evitarlo,” he said, almost as if biting you was on instinct. You wiped your now bleeding tongue with your thumb, admiring the maroon liquid that you had grown attached to. You used your power to collect it all up into the air, elongating it into a stream of blood. 

You had noticed though, that the Spider-Man’s gaze was pinned on the the ichor. That’s right. The man was basically a vampire. Driven by an unnatural thirst for blood. It was something pulled right out of a 1930s horror movie. And right now you were tempting him, waving his food in front of his face. “You want it, hm?” His eyes didn’t even move away from it when he nodded. You let out a low chuckle, then released your clutch on it, letting the blood fall onto your lap. Once you see his eyes dart down to your thigh (him even going as far to reach his mouth down to it), you yank his bondage towards you and put a hand back down to his crotch, strongly twisting his balls. 

He grunts and moves his eyes back to your low eyes. “Only good boys get fed. Are you gonna be a good boy for me, Spider-Man?” He didn’t respond, probably out of embarrassment. You then give a cruel squeeze to his balls. “Ok, ok, ok, I will!” he yelped out. “You’ll what?” you teased, hands still squeezing. He sighed. “I’ll be a good boy for you, mommy.” You smiled. “I’m glad you feel that way.”

You connect your lips back to his, and he slips his tongue in almost right away to lick off the rest of your blood from your tongue. You slip off your underwear, and sit down on his cock, using one of your free hands to guide it into you. You both moaned into each other’s mouths as he entered you. You preferred to have teased him for a little longer, but to be honest, you were starting to get a little antsy for him too.

You thrusted, hard, onto his cock, making sure to get his tip onto all your sweet spots. He moved his mouth down your neck and collarbone, leaving sweet kisses and hickeys where his mouth once was. It took everything out of him to not sink his teeth into your neck. He even seems to make his way down to your chest, using the open boob window in your dress to stuff his face into your breasts, almost seeming to get lost in them as he motorboats you. It’s slightly immature, but you were too busy indulging in the ferocity of his cock to care, as he made your pussy his own. 

He eventually moves back up to your mouth. In between kisses, you manage to get out, “Why did you get caught.” “¿Qué quieres decir?” he sighs out. “I mean, I tried, ngh, to beat you. How did they catch you, and n-not me.” He takes a while for his answer, more focused on trying to figure out how to get himself further in you. “Because, I needed to see you again.” “Why?” “Your smell.”

You sighed into his mouth as a question. “You smell like blood. Overpowering. Intoxicating. Casi como un hechizo.” You pull away to look him in the eyes.

“I couldn’t just leave without knowing what your pussy feels like, mi reina.”

You chuckled a little bit. “Eres una puta.” He smirked. “Sólo por ti, mamita.”

You both were finally starting to reach your climaxes. He decided to take the fall and finish first. He let out groans, grunts, and whimpers as he came in your sweet pussy. Once he was finished, you let out your orgasm, wrapping your arms tightly around his waist and moaning into his bare chest for leverage. Once you both finished, you slowly remove yourself from him. You use your fingers to clean up and taste the mess below you by your dripping cunt. Miguel lets his suit come back onto him, his head leaning forward and panting. 

Realizing you can’t let him out, you clench your fist again to slow the movement of his blood, putting him back under. You fix your hair and press down on your outfit. But before leaving the room, you turn back to look at him. He looked so pretty sleeping there. You quickly walked up to him, and planted a deep, soft kiss into his scruffy cheek. 

As you left the room, you thought to yourself. You couldn’t kill him. You couldn’t finish the job. It would’ve been so easy to do it right here right now. You didn't even know his name. There was zero connection between the two of you, other than what just happened. This had never been a problem before. So why was it now?

Why?

-----------------

a/n: im so tired its currently 4 am i need sleep lmao im so tired i have got to stop going to bed at 3-5 am

[maccreadysbaby]

A Hundred Ways to Become a Wayne

batfamily + oc insert

tw: gore

wanna read more? here’s the table of contents!

want to read the first fic in the hundred days series so you understand what’s going on here? here it is!

shaha… nico makes me sad lmao

part forty-three

❝ IMPOSTER ❞

SATURDAY — SEPTEMBER 12 — 8:56PM

THE WORLD WAS MOVING WITHOUT BENTLEY, AND IT WAS THE MOST TERRIFYING THING HE’D EVER EXPERIENCED. 

He couldn’t move. He was pinned to the debris by the massive shard of metal that was protruding from his chest, and all of his pain meshed into one strange feeling of numbness. The only thought that was bouncing around in his head was the last statement he heard from Jason.

That Asten wasn’t breathing.

Asten wasn’t breathing.

Asten couldn’t be dead. He couldn’t. That wasn’t how this was supposed to end. None of this was supposed to end like this. The world could go on without Bentley Whittaker. Everything would be fine without Bentley Whittaker. But how could the earth keep spinning without Asten Evans?

He guessed he should’ve expected it. Nothing he does ever goes right. Only this time it went so, so wrong. Death wrong.

(Was Asten dead because of him?)

There was no one around him. No one that knew where he was except maybe Nico, who was unconscious. All he could really see were the tall buildings and night’s sky over his head, the end of the metal sticking out of him. He couldn’t lift his head, couldn’t really move.

He twitched his fingers on his right hand, which caused a jolt of pain that ran through his entire body and made him whine. 

Was there a point in calling for help if he already knew he was going to die?

His eyes began to water at the half-realization that he was literally living out his last moments alone in a pile of rubble. The thought helped him force his hand up a little more, up toward his pounding head. His muscles were trembling from the effort, and it hurt so bad to move anything… but he didn’t want to die. He didn’t. (But he was going to, he knew. What was one last streak of denial?)

He clicked his earpiece on, and was greeted by a low, constant, staticky hum.

“Help,” He muttered, his voice coming out strangely hoarse and soft. “Help.”

The static continued, melding with the low sounds of the remaining crackling fire and shifting rubble.

“I’m… dying,”

Static.

Bentley’s stinging eyes spilled over down his face, but he couldn’t really cry, it hurt too bad — all he could do was let his eyes water. “Help me. Please. Please, help me.”

Nothing. 

“I don’t… I don’t… I don’t want to die,” He muttered, sniffling lightly, staring at the sky. “I don’t want to die alone.”

Silence.

“Batman,” He tried, wincing when he sobbed a few times anyways. “B, please. I-I don’t want to die by myself. Please.”

The only response he got was a shift in the rubble beneath him, and the twinkle of the stars above him.

He coughed, which sent a ripping pain through his whole body that made him cry out in agony — and now there was blood on his face. Had he coughed up blood?

“Bruce... Bruce, please. Please. I-I want to go home,”

The static in the earpiece didn’t budge.

Bentley was going to die here, and alone.

He would’ve wiped the tears off of his face, but even the thought of moving produced agony, so he didn’t. “Bruce, please. Please, please, please… Dad, please.”

Silence.

(How was he supposed to come to terms with dying? How did people do this? How did Jason…? Damian?)

There was an oddly familiar whooshing sound, and Bentley could’ve swore he heard feet hit the ground not too far from him. If he had the willpower to move his head, he might’ve tried to look at whoever was there to mock him.

Not a second later came a shrill: “Oh my God! Oh my God no way! I did it!” 

The voice wasn’t one he knew, but it wasn’t not one he knew. It was a guy’s, and he didn’t recognize it. (But he kind of did?)

“Screw you, space-time! Barry’s gonna lose his mind when I tell him-“ There was a pause. “Oh, shit, right.”

There were footsteps that came oddly close to Bentley, but he only saw the figure they belonged to when it was practically looming over his head. It was a tall guy -- maybe Jason’s age, maybe Tim’s -- in a bright yellow, white, and red jumpsuit. The majority of it was yellow, with red and white stripes on the arms and legs, accentuating a large white lightning bolt in the center of the chest. The suit went all the way up to his head and stopped, sort of like Tim’s cowl but with the top cut out so his hair was showing. He also had a utility belt around his waist, with only one small, yellow pouch on it.

This guy looked just like Nico. 

Okay, so, yeah, Bentley was dying and probably hallucinating, but this guy had Nico’s eyes that looked so much like Dick’s. Not to mention that he had the same exact dirty-blonde mop on his head, dangling over the edges of the suit.

Bentley really was losing his mind.

“Hey… Hey there, bud,” The Adult Nico Imposter said, kneeling down next to him, his hands hovering unsurely over Bentley’s wound. His blue eyes very quickly turned misty and watery, getting bluer in that weird way only Dick’s and Nico’s did when they cried. “I never saw...”

Bentley’s half-hearted response was a soft, simple: “Huh?”

The Adult Nico Imposter rubbed his hand over his hair, exhaling heavily. “Okay. Okay. Hi. Hi, Bentley, uh, it’s me… Nico, but, uh… not yours. I’m Nico from the future, and I’ve just broken the space-time continuum to be here. So, here I am. God, great job explaining, you idiot,” He muttered to himself, his eyes still blown wide and staring at Bentley’s abdomen. “In the timestream I came from, you died tonight, and now I’m here to make sure you don’t, uh, like Barry did for me. But, uh, I’m not taking you to a new universe, just… yeah. Anyways. Can I pick you up?”

Bentley blinked. He was literally losing his mind.

Since speaking to a hallucination couldn’t really hurt anything, and he didn’t want to die alone (even if his company was blood-loss-generated), he nodded as much as he could force himself to.

With a nod and a deep breath, the Nico Imposter opened the little pouch on his belt and pulled an inhaler out, shaking it and puffing on it a few times with that telltale rattle-rattle-hiss-hiss.

And it was strange, because everything, down to the material of this guy’s suit to the pain caused by movement of the metal piece, Future Nico picking him up felt really… real.

“You’re… from… the future?” Bentley muttered, watching the buildings and stars move above him. Future Nico was really warm, and it felt nice. (Was it even real?)

“Yeah. But saving you is about to make a new one. I’ll have to go back to mine when I’m done here,” He explained lightly, sitting Bentley in his grasp, cupping his head with one hand. 

Bentley hummed. “Did Asten live?”

There was a moment of silence. Future Nico’s gaze fell to the ground, his eyes going distant for a moment.

“No. It was just me,” He replied, shaking his head. “I’m about to run. It might feel weird.”

Bentley said nothing, but closed his eyes and waited. Going super fast couldn’t feel much weirder than being impaled and then picked up by a guy from the future, could it? He was pretty sure his life had reached the maximum amount of weird. Either that or his hallucinations had?

There was a split second (or three) where Bentley couldn’t breathe, and it was really cold. It felt kind of like he was pinned down for a moment, like his whole body stopped moving and then started again.

When he opened his eyes, he was in a medical bed in the Batcave.

The only explanation Future Nico gave was a stammery: “Sorry, Mr. Pennyworth… yeah, hi, um… I’m Nico, but from the future, and I brought Bentley here so he can… Y’know! I… I’ve gotta run, I’ll be right back!”

There was a flash and a gust of wind, and the Future Nico was gone.

Bentley was surely losing his mind.

He was in the cave. (But was he really, if he was just hallucinating?) Barbara was now at the computer, and Bentley very vaguely saw Alfred toss an earpiece to her and abandon his spot at the massive screens to run into the medbay toward him.

“Oh, my dear boy…”

Bentley opened his mouth, but nothing came out. Alfred seemed so real. He touched Bentley’s arm and it felt real. He sounded real. There was no way he… that Future Nico was…?

Maybe Bentley really wouldn’t die?

(There surfaced that unhinged, deep, unmistakable hope and determination again that Bentley Whittaker was so famous for.)

Maybe he really wouldn’t die.

—

Okay. So the worst part about the entire situation at hand actually wasn’t that Bentley had a giant piece of metal protruding from his chest.

It was the fact that Alfred couldn’t get him unconscious enough to start surgery.

He typically had the opposite problem — his body seemed to love passing out at every opportunity, even at the worst times. But right now, Alfred had already administered nearly twice the typical amount of sedatives recommended. And while Bentley was pretty loopy, he just wasn’t going out of it. He’d had two small injections, and was now rocking an oxygen mask with an anesthetic pumping through it constantly to get him in a state where Alfred could help. And it still wasn’t working.

But, even worse than that, was the fact that he had to see Asten.

It wasn’t long (probably three minutes after Bentley arrived) before Future Nico (who had to actually exist because Alfred was talking to him?) zoomed back into view and laid Asten on the bed next to Bentley.

He was limp, and already extremely pale. Bentley wasn’t lucid enough to focus on whether his chest was rising or falling, but he didn’t guess it was, since Jason said it wasn’t. Asten looked… strange. Different from unconscious or sleeping. It was colder. Stranger.

Maybe three minutes (and more sedative) later, Future Nico swooshed back into the cave with Current Nico, who was still unconscious and bleeding at the nose, and put him on the other side of Bentley. But Future Nico was very persistent about Alfred not worrying about him, that he ended up being okay even in his own reality where no one came to his aid.

That was about the time the Batmobile came squealing into the cave, followed by bike after bike with different Wayne’s on them each time. After that, the cave turned into a mess of shouting and yelling and panicking and loud noises and chaos and Bentley still couldn't go to sleep. He couldn’t really comprehend what was going on, but he was awake, which was too awake for the operations he needed.

He didn’t really know what to focus on (or if he could focus) until Nightwing came into his view, over his head, peeling his domino mask off. He was crying — hard. Bentley couldn’t really talk through the oxygen mask (not that he could talk anyways.) but he was able to twitch his fingers and get Dick to grab his hand.

“You’re going to be okay, Babybird. You’re going to be just fine,”

A beat passed. 

“I love you,”

Bentley felt a pinch on his arm, likely meaning someone had injected him with something else.

He couldn’t seem to create any coherent thoughts. He liked that Dick was holding his hand. He was glad to be home, even if he died. At least he wasn’t dying alone.

He opened his mouth in an attempt to speak, but coughed instead, and the inside of his oxygen mask got splattered with something dangerously red.

Seeing that color seemed to spark a wave of panic, and he blinked away a new wave of tears that threatened to come.

“…Dad,” He managed to just barely rasp, coughing again, splattering more red on the mask. “Dad.”

Dick said something, he didn’t really hear it. Someone else said something. 

He managed to turn his head just far enough to see someone (he couldn’t tell who) put a defibrillator on Asten’s chest, and with a loud bang! he convulsed terrifyingly. 

After a moment, someone turned Bentley’s head away. Bruce’s face appeared in the empty space in his vision.

“Everything’s going to be okay, chum,” He said, putting on that same stupid reassuring smile that he loved to plaster on and keep there with his life, even in the worst situations. He touched Bentley’s forehead like he always did.

“You’re going to be okay. Just breathe. Rest,”

Bentley wasn’t going to die alone.

Bruce kept brushing his hair back, smiling all the while, and for the first time since he’d been home, Bentley relaxed enough to let the sedatives take him under.

—

dedicated to @sassenashsworld 💚

—

tag list! (If you want me to remove or add you, ask in comments!)

@fleur-alise @sarcopterygiian @flyrobinflyy @skylathescholar @gayboss-too-close-to-the-sun @xiaonothere @beatyoutothatusernameloser

[deadbydangit]

I'm sorry this is a funny idea in my head but I understand if its stupid or something lmao 😭❤

Characters with an S/o who's like notoriously down bad for them. Like so down bad they aren't afraid to show it, even before they started to date. So down bad that they will swoon if character compliments them in anyway. S/o is just a down bad simp basically

This with Ghostface, Pyramid Head, Leon, Jake, and Huntress? I'm so sorry I just thought it was funny 😭👍

Alright. I think I can work with it. I'm going to switch it where the Reader isn't dating them yet.

With a Reader who is down for them.

Ghostface, Pyramid Head, Leon, Jake, Huntress

Ghostface

He sees the way you look at him.

Of course you're down bad for him.

Like, he's the great Ghostface.

Danny has an ego to match a prince.

Yeah, he's sexy and he knows it.

He's going to show off for you.

But that won't be subtle either.

A lot of flexing.

Teasing by almost taking his mask off.

Leaning in really close to you before moving away really suddenly.

Oh no! His shirt accidentally ripped.

He'd be lying if he didn't find you cute too.

So some of this is actually flirting.

Cause TBH you're really cute.

Maybe throw a few signs his way.

Eventually everyone will find all the flirting so unbelievably unbearable that they'll shove you two in a room together.

Just fuck and get it over with!

You two make a really cute couple.

Pyramid Head

What is flirting?

Why are you so close?

You're wearing less clothing.

Danny is going to have to fill him in.

Oh! That's what flirting is.

Okay!

Until some of the more mature killers step in and show him more appropriate methods.

Don't listen to Danny please.

You can't just grab someone and lick them.

He's kind of into you too.

He'll start showing off his muscles.

Raise his sword a bit higher.

Check him out.

With no face and no voice, he has little to work with.

But he's going to find his ways.

He's going to need some help from the others.

He's well like in the killer circle.

Sally will approach you and directly tell you.

You probably had an idea.

But this will solidify it.

He'll take hold of your hand one day.

Just hold it.

It's really quite romantic.

Leon S Kennedy

He is clueless.

Like, really clueless.

Oh, they want to stand close?

Must mean they want to work together.

More revealing outfit?

They must be hot.

Subtlety touching his arm?

Must want to protect him.

Dense boy.

He's used to girls and guys alike fawning over him.

But to him, it's just them being grateful he saved them.

You might need to up your game.

Start telling him you like how he looks.

"Thanks, you look nice too."

Jill is going to have to literally smack that boy into realizing you've been flirting.

Oh, okay. Yeah, he can see it now.

He'll try to flirt back, but it's so painful to watch.

Jill is just going to shove you two together.

"Just kiss already!"

Jake Park

He's a smart guy.

But he's also super awkward.

Like yeah, you can flirt with him.

But he'll act like it's nothing.

He's actually freaking out because you're totally his type.

Maybe he'll get you a present.

But there's nothing to give...

A stick?

Yeah.

He'll give you a stick.

Really mixed messages.

It is really painful to watch the two of you.

So painful that even Dwight can't take it.

This needs to stop.

Jane is probably going to be the one to initiate your meeting with Jake.

"You like him, they like you. Now stop dancing around."

She'll lock the door and strand you two in there.

Ah well, you'll have more time to get to know him.

Huntress

Hmm? Flirting?

What's that?

Some sort of battle tactic?

Oh she is oblivious.

Just um... Maybe start with something obvious.

Wave to her and smile.

Then maybe hold her hand.

Then a hug.

Then work up to a kiss.

She will take any flirting attempt as either a challenge or someone doing something insane.

It's easier to just go up and say it.

And he does like you.

She just doesn't have a word for it.

Just give her some time.

She'll probably figure it out.

[gemglyph]

hey uh this is kinda random but i think i remember you talking about having issues with bone or muscle pain and i am also having similar issues do you have any tips about how to manage it?

I am currently extremely suffering and it has absolutely WRECKED my energy levels, so please bear with me. If something doesn’t make sense ask for clarification I am happy to help ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

I have full body chronic pain, joint pain, etc. As well as extreme joint instability. And my hip bones are not normal. Because my life is the butt end of some joke I haven’t been made aware of. If I did know the joke I would probably be laughing too

Manage it? I have doctors. Because if I didn’t have these doctors I literally wouldn’t be able to function. Pushing through it actually fucked me up. There’s literally potential I have soft tissue damage. I did, however, have to fight a few doctors a little bit for the care I receive because, and I quote, “You’re too young for that pain”. Which?? You’d think maybe “hey too young for that pain means something is wrong” instead of “ignore him lmao”. If a doctor says you’re too young for pain. Tell them that probably means something is wrong. Watch their face expression. When I said that to an old doctor of mine the expression was priceless. Then I proceeded to ghost him and his office

My neurologist is sent from the heavens though. Love her ✨

Here is a list of potentials:

1) Get a doctor. Be willing to fight and advocate for yourself. Take absolutely ZERO shit. I mean NONE. As in come in with a list of symptoms. Give them your ground rules on treatment. Tell them what you think it may be. And if they didn’t listen to you then LEAVE and don’t go back. You might have to actually and literally doctor hop. It is annoying, tedious, and like pulling your own teeth sometimes (sorry in advance for you, friend)

2) Ice and heat. Ice swollen things because they are swollen = inflammation. Heat for soreness and tension

Also, massage the areas. Be gentle with yourself

3) I do physical therapy because I have unstable joints. A lot of it is slightly similar to yoga and working out. I recommend gentle stretching exercises. Make sure to hit all joint and muscle areas. Swimming is actually fantastic for you and it is a low impact exercise. 100% low impact exercises are essential when pain is involved. Most importantly: If it hurts. STOP. DO NOT push through pain when exercising.

If I find out you did I will haunt you like the worst cat you’ve ever had in your life

4) Bone pain sent me to the doctor. Verdict is not in yet

5) There is this over the counter cream called diclofenac sodium 1% topical gel. Also known as Voltaren. And.. a few other names. It is called an arthritis cream. It’s chill to use it even without arthritis. It’s a topical gel for inflammation, but I think it helps a little regardless. It is like being kissed by the stars

If you choose to gel, don’t touch anything until you’ve washed your hands after applying. You’ll thank me later

6) Correct your posture and get good shoes with excellent support. I promise you. PROMISE YOU it actually does make a difference long term

7) Don’t remain stagnant. It causes muscle stiffness, strain, and some other stuff

Now that I have said all of this, I proceeded to realize I don’t know your TYPE of Pain in those areas, but this is an all encompassing list… I think…

I have more knowledge I am just drawing blanks without more information so let me know your pain type and I will help

[cambria-writes]

happy update day!

i literally finished this an hour ago, then i ran out for an errand, and now here i am. i've started work on ch9, and i'm already like 30% done.

i don't really know how many more chapters we've got to go; we're just finishing up on episode 5 in this one, next chapter stars in episode 6 so... math says we've got like maybe five chapters to go? i'm probably gonna write eight more lmao i don't know when to stop. i lied cause i almost accidentally posted the wrong chapter lmao but we still got several chapters to go babes!!

my ask box is always open, i love reading your comments, and the taglist is always open!!

...i'm gonna go fix the format of the other fics so everything's consistent now lol we love aesthetic evolution

pairing: eddie munson x reader rating: T-M, each chapter rated individually warnings: guns, active shooting, minor character death, mention of a corpse, lots of swearing, reader passes out, ADND should come with its own warning, DND references in general, kind of an anxiety attack, let me know if i need to tag anything else! word count: 3,365

Previous Next Masterlist

𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝕾𝖊𝖛𝖊𝖓: 𝔄𝔰𝔱𝔯𝔞𝔩 𝔖𝔭𝔢𝔩𝔩

March 23rd, 1986

It takes maybe a second, but for that one second, you feel like your body’s being pulled in every single direction at once. Your stomach rises up into your throat and lights burst behind your eyelids, accompanied by the worst, searing pain. The only thing you can think of is not letting go of Eddie’s hand.

And then it stops as soon as it starts.

You’re on your knees, doubled over on the road, gasping for breath. It takes a few seconds of jamming the palms of your hands into your eyes to start seeing again. You think you hear Eddie somewhere off to your right. You struggle getting to your feet, the cold like claws digging into your muscles and your thin sweater is doing nothing to help.

When you feel for your nose, your hand comes away bloody again. Snort and spit out the blood before making your way over to Eddie. He’s at least still mostly standing, hands on his knees and trying to catch his breath. He holds an arm out to keep you away while he straightens up.

“I’m good,” He croaks. “Just need a sec.”

“We don’t have a second,” you whisper harshly, moving forward to grab him by the arm. “We need to go.” You don’t listen to his complaints as you start dragging him towards the road. “Mind the vines.”

“The hell do you mean mind the vines?”

“Exactly what I said,” you reply, picking up the pace once Eddie seems to be able to move on his own. “Your lich king uses them to track movement or something, it’s some weird kinda hive mind.”

“Hive mind? You’re kidding me.”

“Wait, hey—don’t do that!” you shout, pulling him back from one of the thicker vines by the side of the road. “You wanna fucking die in this place cause that’s a good way to do it!”

Eddie turns around to look at you and his face is blank for a second. “You’re... really not kidding.”

“Look around you, Ed! Does it look like I’m kidding?” You put your arms out and take a few steps back. “Look, actually look. Does this look like home to you?” You scoff and turn back towards the road. “Come on. It wasn’t too far.”

It takes a bit before you hear Eddie jogging to catch up with you. He stays silent while he walks to your right. You flex your fingers around the handle of the gun and keep staring straight ahead.

“So you...” Eddie trails off, walking a bit closer to brush your shoulders together. “You’ve been having nightmares about this place the whole time?”

“Yep,” you emphasize the P with a pop. “November 1983.”

“Wait, isn’t that when the Byers kid went missing?”

You hum and shrug, take a second to jump over a particularly large vine crossing the road. “Yeah, well. Everything kind of all went to shit from thereon out. Clearly,” you motion vaguely around young. “It hasn’t stopped.”

“So like, how much further?” Eddie asks, and the nervous edge on his voice could probably be heard from a mile down the road.

You take a second to squint and try and look further down the road. There doesn’t seem to be anything for as far as you can see. You grab at Eddie’s arm to make him stop.

“It... it shouldn’t be farther out than this,” you say quietly, turning to look around. “Do you see anything?”

“Nah,” Eddie answers slowly. “I’m not... are you sure this is the right way?”

“I thought so...” you trail off.

When you turn back to face the way you were going down, you get the same creeping feeling at the back of your neck as you did earlier.

“Eddie, I think we need to go back.”

“Oh, now you’re agreeing that this is a terrible idea,” he scoffs.

You’re about to smack him when something snaps in the woods off to your left. You raise your gun and make sure it’s cocked.

“Hey, what the hell was that?” Eddie whispers, side stepping a few feet to get closer to you.

“I don’t know,” you whisper back, keeping your gun aimed at the woods but slowly stepping back. “We should probably—”

Something rushes out of the trees and skitters to a stop in the middle of the road, about thirty or fourty feet ahead of out. You stop breathing for a second, until the thing turns its head towards you, and its entire face opens up with a flower and a a deafening screech.

“Holy shit,” Eddie breathes, grabbing your shoulder and pulling you back. “take us back, take us back!”

You pull the trigger once and miraculously, despite shaking hands and the missing ability to breathe, you manage to hit the thing straight in whatever it has that passes for a mouth. It lets loose another screech before it starts running right at you.

“What the hell was that for?!” Eddie screams, dragging you back to start running. “We have to go!”

“Shit, shit, shit I’m trying!” you shout back, flailing to grab a hold of Eddie’s arm. “Stay still!”

“Are you fucking crazy?!”

You dig your heels in to make Eddie stop and pull him back to you. You can hear the thumping of the monster running behind you, but you close your eyes against everything anyways.

The sound of feet hitting pavement fades away with the screech and Eddie’s screaming. And for a second, again, you feel that weightlessness and gut-wrench. When the ground meets your feet again, though, you don’t have any strength in your legs left to hold you up and you crumple in the middle of the road, boneless.

“Fuck, fuck!” Eddie screams, and you can barely lift your head to look at him. When you do, your vision is too blurry to make anything out.

You do, however, see a body on the pavement, just behind him.

“Ed,” you whisper, pulling an arm out from under you. “Ed, be... behind you,” you choke out, pointing.

“Wh-what are you,” he starts, but stumbles back clean onto his ass after he turns around. “Holy shit,” he whimpers, twisting to look back at you. “He—Chrissy—”

“Ed,” you mumble, letting your cheek rest back on the road. “I’m gonna... I’m gonna pass out.”

“What? Wait, no, no, no—”

The funny thing about unconsciousness is that it’s not quite a lack of consciousness. It’s like you can feel and hear everything in bursts, but only in some kind of periphery.

You can feel yourself being carried, kind of, and you can hear someone talking, almost, but none of it ever feels close enough to properly register, and you can barely remember any of it a few seconds after you almost feel it.

When you open your eyes again, it’s still pitch black outside if the curtained window is anything to go by, but there’s light coming from down the hallway from the bedroom. Your whole body aches—you can feel scrapes on your legs against your jeans and your palms are burning. There’s a headache blooming behind your eyes again, and it nearly burns every time you breathe in through your nose.

When you groan and try to roll over, you entirely miscalculate how far the edge of the bed is, and fall clean off when you can’t get your legs around in time. The sound must clearly alert Eddie in whichever part of the house he’s in, because no sooner does your head meet the floor do you hear clattering, swearing, and furious stomping down the hall. You’ve managed to prop yourself up on your elbows by the time he reaches the doorway.

“H-hey, you,” you try to greet casually, but the migraine splitting your skull is making it hard to get anything else out.

“Don’t “hey you” me you fucking menace,” Eddie grumbles, moving over to reach under your arms to help you back up to sit on the bed. He crouches in front of you when you’re settled, elbows on his knees and head hanging with a sigh. “You mind telling me what happened and why you felt the unrestrained need—“ Eddie cuts himself off when his voice begins to rise and he sees you visibly wince at the volume. “Sorry, sorry. Just, what happened?”

You shrug and pinch your eyes shut. “I really don’t know. It’s like that second plane shift took it all out of me.” Eddie nods for a second, but seems to realize something and shakes his head furiously.

“Yeah, okay, that’s good to know and everything, but I was talking about that freaky dog thing that ran right for us with the venus fly trap face.”

You snort at the description but stay quiet for a second, trying to think through the migraine. “Henderson called them, uh… Demodogs? I think? They’re like the Demogorgon but quadrupedal instead of bipedal.”

You can hear Eddie cursing Dustin under his breath before he puts his hands on your knees. “Anything else you can tell me?”

You frown and shake your head a bit. “Any-anything else? What—”

“I dunno, like, how to kill them? What they’re susceptible to? Literally anything?”

You bring your hands up to your face and dig your fingers into your eyes. “I can’t-I can’t think. Can you get my painkillers or something? My head’s killing me.”

Eddie rushes out of the room without a word. You let yourself fall back on the bed. Try to recall the nightmares from before. There was that time two years ago when Chief Hopper was stuck in the tunnels and he managed to clear the vines with fire… so maybe your harebrained thought of making a flamethrower wasn’t too absurd after all.

“Here,” Eddie says, entering the room while shaking a pill bottle out into his hand. He caps it back up and grabs the bottle of water he had wedged under his arm and hands it to you.

You sit back up with a groan and whisper your thanks. Twist open the bottle, accept and throw back the pills, and drain half the bottle in one go. When you gasp and wipe your mouth, you take the time to properly look at Eddie.

He’s pale, clearly shaken up. And now that you’re paying attention, you can see the trembling of his hands on his knees as he crouches in front of you, and you can make out a bead of sweat going down his neck. You reach out to wipe away a smear of something from his cheekbone with your thumb.

Your nose feels itchy and your eyes are burning. “I’m sorry,” you breathe. Swallow thickly. “I-I’m so sor—”

“Hey, no,” Eddie mutters, holding onto the wrist nearest his face and bringing his other hand up behind your neck. “Hey, none of this is your fault. We’re both just caught up in some bullshit, we didn’t ask for it. You’re good.” He gives the back of your neck a squeeze and you let yourself fall into his shoulder. “You’re good. We’re fine. We’re gonna be fine.”

“Man I’m sorry for crying you much,” you choke out between sobs, grabbing at Eddie’s denim vest. “I just—I can’t—”

“None of that.” The fact that you can hear the shaking in Eddie’s voice tears a desperate wail from you. “It’s okay, just let it out. Just let it out.”

And you do.

All the fear and the frustration, the confusion; you sob it out. The consuming rage of not being listened to, of being called insane; the confusion of never knowing when you’ll end up in that-that hellscape again, and whether or not it’s going to be real; the certainty that if you talk about what happens to you again that you’ll just be sent back to another hospital. Maybe permanently this time.

Worst of all is the knowing, now, that all your nightmares were real. Maybe the details were off, here and there, but the people you saw dead died. There is another Hawkins and there are monsters there. And, for some god forsaken reason, you can go there.

“Hey,” you hear Eddie whisper your name. “Can-can you breathe with me? Can you do that?” he asks, and the fingers at the back of your neck start to scratch lightly at your nape. It takes a second, but you nod; you know you’re hyperventilating, now that the crying has stopped, and you know you need to get a grip. “Alright, okay,” Eddie continues, resting his chin on top of your head. “In seven, hold for two, out for four. Got it? In seven, hold two, out four.”

You nod again, and try inhaling when he does. When you start coughing, he whispers that it’s okay, and you try again. After a few failed attempts, and once the burning in your chest starts subsiding, you finally manage to match your breathing to the rise and fall of Eddie’s chest.

“There you go,” he sighs on the exhale, giving the back of your neck one last squeeze before moving his hands to your shoulders and pulling you away just enough to get a good look at you. “Hey there.”

“Hey,” you whisper back, doing your best to offer a watery smile. Take a deep breath. “Thanks. For helping.”

“Well, hey,” Eddie chuckles, patting your right shoulder. “Thanks for not letting me get eaten by a freaky carnivorous plant dog.” You close your eyes and let yourself laugh, even if it’s still a bit shaky.

“Yeah,” you nod, patting him on the chest. “Well. Can’t let my therapist die in a parallel universe. Who else is gonna listen to my bullshit?”

Eddie helps you to your feet once you feel like you’ve got a good enough grasp on yourself again. Mentions that he’s been poring over his books since he brought you back to the house for lack of a better thing. Has been checking in on you every other hour to make sure you were still breathing. Cleaned your face off, because it was ‘covered in blood like you’d walked straight out of Carrie or something’.

“Did you let the others know what happened?” you ask once you’re sat at the table with the rest of your bottle of water. Looking around you can see that Eddie’s covered the windows nearby with blankets, cushions and other fabric you think might be clothes. The lantern in the center of the table casts enough light to see most everything around you, including several books laid out and overlapping on the table.

“Yeah,” he grunts, letting himself down on the chair. He waves you off when you frown in concern. “They’re all a little… occupied right now, but one of the brats should come with their designated escort later.”

“You mean Harrington,” you correct, a bit absently, pulling one of the D&D books closer to you. A quick flip of the cover tells you it’s the Dungeon Master’s guide. “Did you find anything interesting while I was passed out?”

“Actually,” Eddie starts, flipping covers and going through the books on the table before he pulls one out from beneath the guide you have in front of you. It’s thin, and you never would’ve known it was there. “I felt so stupid not thinking of it first but… here.” He slaps his hand down and flattens the booklet before spinning it around to hand it over to you. “Right there,” he points to the page on your right.

“This… is this a spell list?” you ask, a little bit incredulously.

“The magic-user spell list yeah—that’s not the point. Look,” he leans over the table to tap at a column at the bottom of the right page. “The ninth level spells.”

“Gate,” you breathe, frowning and leaning down closer. “Astral Spell, Power Word: Kill…” You bring your hand up to the book and look at the other columns. “Telekenesis, Wizard Eye, Projected Image, Dimension Door—”

“Everything you’ve seen,” Eddie starts, slowly lowering himself back down in his chair. “All of it, it’s all there. Even the monster shit, it’s all there.”

You let out a quiet gasp, and turn the page. You zero in on the title at the top of the left page:

SPELLS TABLE

Clerics

“Hold up,” up say, raising your hand over the table and motioning to be handed something. “I’m not seeing plane shift in here.” You look up at Eddie, who seems to take a second before registering what you’ve said before snapping his fingers and going through a few books on the table before picking up up and passing it over.

“It’s, uh, I think it’s page fourty?”

You flip through the pages and land on the one mentioned, and there it is at the bottom. The cleric spell list.

“There is it,” you exclaim, pointing down and looking up. “Plane shift.” You look back down at the page and frown, “This is level five shit though. I don’t know that…”

“Don’t, you don’t know that what,” Eddie asks after you stay quiet for a few seconds. You flip through a few more pages, take a second to read and lean back in your chair.

“True Seeing,” you say quietly, gesturing at the book. “I mean, I definitely don’t need some kind of-of mushroom ointment for my eyes, but that sounds about right.”

“Anything else sound familiar?” Eddie asks, clasping his hands in front of him over the book on the table. You bite your lip and look down again, sigh and shrug.

“I-I mean I don’t know? Augury, maybe, I guess?” You let a hand trail down the columns. “I really don’t know, most of this shit just kind of happens to me, I don’t exactly try to do any of it.”

“But you tried with Plane Shift,” Eddie points out, taking the book back and flipping it around to take a look at it. “And you’ve basically done Astral Spell before even if you were kind of, y’know. Unconscious.”

You cross your arms and narrow your eyes at the man sitting across from you. “You’re not actually suggesting I do what I think you’re suggesting I do.”

Eddie’s grin could split his face with how wide it is.

“No. No, absolutely not,” you growl out, slamming your hands down on the table. “Are you forgetting that just the plane shifting almost got us killed? How about the part where I passed the fuck out as soon as I got us back? The bleeding? Nuh-uh,” you conclude, crossing you arms again and kicking the table. “No fucking way.”

“Come on,” Eddie pleads, putting his elbows and slapping his hands together almost supplicantly. “It can be something easy, totally inconsequential. Like,” he looks down between his elbows before looking back up. “Cure Light Wounds! You get a papercut—”

“Boy, are you stupid—”

“Or what about Silence? Speak With Animals should be—”

“Eddie!”

He flinches back a bit in his seat, but otherwise puts his hands up in surrender. You sigh and pinch the bridge of your nose in irritation.

“I’m not a test subject, Ed,” you whisper, letting your hand fall down in your lap and giving him a look you hope is just shy of begging. “Right now I just. Can we just like, get high and pig out on junk food or something?”

Eddie sighs and has the decency to look apologetic. “I don’t have anything on me, princess. Kind of didn’t really have the time to grab anything when we…”

He trails off and you don’t need to hear the rest of the sentence. “Right, well at least we have beer,” you say as you get up and head over to the fridge. “You did put it in the fridge right?”

“Yeah, but I mean, shouldn’t you be drinking, like, water or something a little more—”

“I just woke up from passing the fuck out after basically teleporting us twice and dodging a hellhound in literal, actual hell,” you call from the fridge. You pick up two bottles, scoff and put them back in the case before taking the whole thing out. “I deserve a fucking break from this bullshit.”

𝓣𝓪𝓰𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽

@anothermunsonsimp @doratheignora @storiesbyrhi

[honeytae]

I get to snuggle with the birthday boy in his big boy bed.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY JUNGKOOK!!!! we absolutely adore you baby boy :( this is a really soft self serving piece because who doesn’t want to sleep in jungkooks childhood bedroom? right? like, my heart would burst out of complete fondness for him. i hope you all like this, i’m sorry for making jungkook’s parents only appear for like three split seconds LMAO

tags: @ahgasearmyfan, @hoseokayy, @the1921-monsters

With Jungkook’s loosened schedule, you were able to get to his parents home for the better half of the week, the man practically giddy at the thought of you finally coming home with him. You had met his parents several times before, yes, but you were yet to stay in their home. Jungkook’s childhood home.

The drive outside of Seoul was filled with Jungkook’s playlist and your familiar bickering patterns, his tattooed hand holding your own over the gear stick as he bobbed his head to the beat resounding throughout the car.

“Has anyone ever told you your voice is superb?”

“Has anyone ever told you your face is superb?”

His excited parents had come out to welcome you as soon as you pulled in, causing both of you to smile fondly as you opened your car doors, immediately greeted with a hug from one of his parents.

As it was your first time seeing the exterior of Jungkook’s home without the tainted marks in an old image, you took a moment to observe the details, grinning at the home and all the memories your boyfriend had surrounding it.

It was a quaint little house nestled between two others, pale in color yet bustling with flowers in the garden out front.

“Aw, this house is adorable.” You had cooed as you walked up the driveway, hugging his arm closer to you as he simply chuckled, his mother acknowledging you with a sweet smile of her own.

“Make yourself at home, dear.” She’d said, gesturing you into the doorway with a sparkling glint in her eye, his father chuckling as he raised your bag up in his hand.

“I’ll go drop this off in Jungkook’s room for you. We’d have you stay in the guest room, but it’s under renovation right now.” He said, his mother echoing his apology with a shake of her head as she sighed about a recent flood.

“That’s perfect. Thank you.” You smiled at them, Jungkook squeezing your shoulder before setting off for the kitchen, coming back with two glasses of water for you both to sip at.

The room was unequivocally him, from the countless Iron Man action figures to the various sketches lining the walls, obviously pinned up himself with little thumbtacks.

Over the course of the wall, the thumbtacks climbed higher and higher, indicating his growing height over time and increasing skill along with it.

“Literally nothing has changed in here since I left for Seoul.” He shyly giggled at the state of the room from behind you, making you turn back toward him with a fond smile as you reached up to squeeze his cheeks.

“It’s precious, I love it.” You eased him, the man melting into your touch with a giddy smile, turning his cheek to pucker his lips against the palm of your hand.

The room very much was the state of a fifteen year old boys room, but it was so him. Obviously the whole day to day of his life had turned upside down from what it was when he last lived in this room, this house, but Jungkook was still that fifteen-year-old boy at his core. You adored him even more for it.

“Baby.” He called for your attention, your eyes flitting to him in a widened glance.

“Nothing has changed in here.” He reiterated, chuckling slightly at your confused hum. Placing his hand on your lower back, he guided you to face the opposite side of the room, directly pointing to his twin-size bed.

Giggling a bit at the adolescent sheet pattern, you turned back to him with a beaming smile, knocking his shoulder with your forehead.

“We’ll figure it out.”

Figuring it out, as you had so simply put it, was a lot easier said than done.

Shifting your leg over a bit to escape the edge of the bed, you froze at the sound of Jungkook’s pained groan, bracing yourself against his shoulders as you moved your knee away from his crotch.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. You okay?” You soothed against his neck, raising your eyebrows as you awaited an answer from the injured man.

The lack of light within the room, merely a sliver creeping in through the blinds, left you clueless to his gentle smile and overall relaxation of his face from moments prior, the feeling of his hand soothing up and down your arm easing you slightly.

“‘S fine, love.” He verbally confirmed, brushing his lips against your chin before shifting up on his pillow a few inches, now evenly level with your mouth to press all the kisses he wanted on your bottom lip.

You hummed as he pulled it into his mouth to gently suckle on, nibbling at it slightly before pulling away with a deep sigh.

“Under different circumstances, I’d have you kiss it better.”

With a scoff at his crudeness, you attempted to roll over to face away from the man, and having forgotten you were in a bed meant for a small child, quickly began your descent to the floor with a fold of your arm beneath you.

“Babe!” Jungkook reached out to catch your bicep with a strong hand latched around the muscle, rolled over himself from trying to chase you on your fall from his oh so convenient twin bed.

A soft ‘thud’ resounded through the room as your knee hit the floor, your leg bending out of reflex to catch your short-lived fall from his mattress. Jungkook, stunned above you, looked at you with scrunched brows, his piercing glinting in the moonlight streaming in from the crack in the blinds as he bit down on his bottom lip.

He couldn’t stifle the laugh born out of whatever the fuck had just happened, little giggles growing louder yet more isolated as he tried his best to muffle them into his sheets, you not faring much better splayed out on the floor below.

“Kook, this is all your fault.” You whined from the ground, trying your best to hold in your own laugh as he reached down to you, sliding his hands beneath your arms to lift you back up onto the bed beside him.

“Why is it my fault, hm?” He asked slyly, letting his hands glide down your torso to land on your hips, leaving them there as you rolled your eyes again at the man.

“Maybe because you’re making crude dick jokes in your parents house.” You said, Jungkook humming in thought before a shrug from his shoulders shifted the mattress.

“Wouldn’t that be more of a blowjob joke?” He wondered aloud, ”I mean, let’s be politically correct here.”

“Politically- Jungkook!” You exclaimed, appalled at his bluntness with his parents only rooms away and most likely within earshot of every word that came out of his mouth.

Your boyfriends giggles were all you got in response, making you smile despite your initial annoyance. His hand slid over the back of yours to grip your fingers, pulling gently to coax you closer to him in his laid down position.

“C’mere, sweet pea.” He murmured, tone softened from only moments before, the pet name making your heart thrum a bit more in your chest.

With a careful lowering of your body to the mattress, you snuggled up to him once again, this time successfully getting into a front facing spooning position with no injury on either end.

He smelled warm, like cotton and that fabric softener that he loved along with the wood tones of the cologne he’d bought himself a few months back.

His skin felt like velvet as you stroked your fingers up and down his inked arm, the dark designs a stark contrast to the way his soft flesh leaned into your touch.

“Lucky me.” You smiled blissfully, stroking the man’s hair back behind his ear to admire his features easier.

“Lucky you?” He repeated, confusion laced in his tone as he raised his pierced eyebrow at you.

“I’m the luckiest of all,” you paused for dramatics, “because I get to snuggle with the birthday boy in his big boy bed.” You cracked a smirk, snorting when his face dropped at your words.

“Shut up.” He laughed, pressing a tender kiss to the top of your head with a sigh.

“I love you, Kookie.”

“Hm, love you too, honey.”

[pixie-dust-and-pain]

Tomato Soup

summary: you've bumped into Bucky, broken your phone, gotten his number, and all because of those damn soup cans

Warnings: swearing, shreksual innuendo, bro what is this i don't even like how this came out send help (my parents about me lmao)

Word Count: 987

a/n: Made an 11 page ppt for my pardner on why she's the best simply cause I can. It made him happy, i think.

Your eyes were itchy, your head hurt, your rent was due, and your hotel was Trivago. Actually, you were too poor to afford a hotel, but that wasn't the point.

You sigh dramatically, rounding the corner and swinging the bags in your hand around. Your day was going horribly, you'd just finished having the mental breakdown you'd been putting off for days, and now you were all out of canned tomato soup. Who the fuck runs out of canned tomato soup? A maniac, that's who.

So, naturally, like the sane and responsible citizen you were, you'd gone to the store and bought around twenty cans of soup. They were sure to last you at least a week, right?

Maybe you were still broke, but at least you had your beloved with you.

You turn, crashing into a random fucker. Maybe some weird sort of physics was involved, but the man had enough muscle for you to rebound and land on your ass. Literal pain in the ass.

Your cans fall out of the bag, rolling around the pavement, sad, dejected, and deserted.

"My babies!" you're on all fours before he can blink, picking them up and cradling them.

He blinks, before helping you, "Gosh, 'm sorry I-" he cuts himself off, eyeing something on the ground warily. On closer inspection, you notice that it's your phone. Or, the remnants of it, anyway.

And then you're sobbing, "My darling, you were so-so faithful," you're clutching the phone, hiccups infusing your sobs as you wail. "Everything is ruined. My fucking rent is due," a lady covers her daughter's ears at that, sharply glaring at you.

"You say the bad word mommy, why can't-?" the girl questions, cut off by her mother's annoyed huff. The mother hushes her, leading her away. You pay them no mind.

"Did-did you know?" you ask, staring up at the man, who you now notice has really pretty blue eyes. He nods, as though signalling for you to continue while he picks up your cans. You wonder if he's silently judging you for all the cans of soup. "My salary is absolute shit, and my ex is getting married and that's nice and all except said ex is getting married to my high school crush? What fucking blasphemy,"

He gently guides you up and hands you the bag, "That's rough buddy,"

You laugh wetly, sniffling, "Okay, Zuko. And-and now, I'm here, out of tomato soup, haven't done laundry in a week, I've got bills and-and I've gotta attend annoying ex's wedding and my parents are bugging me to get married and if I don't feed my fish I'm gonna die," You sob, "and the last thing I need is a hot stranger judging me cause I like soup. I just like the fucking soup, okay?"

He nods like a saint, understanding and patient, even if he's a little confused.

"And now my phone is broken," you laugh, and then wipe at your face aggressively.

"Sorry 'bout that,"

You take in a deep breath, "Okay,"

"Okay?"

"Buy me a new phone,"

He blinks, taken aback, "What?" It's not like he couldn't afford it, per se, he was just very taken aback.

"All men are the same," you whisper, taking your grocery bags out of his hand before walking the few steps left for your home. "Goodbye," you call out, waving sadly, "attractive stranger that I've embarrased myself in front of and won't buy me a new phone!"

The door to your building slides shut behind you as you make your way to the stairs. All 'cause of that fucking soup.

*~*

Your hotel is no longer Trivago, and your eyes no longer itchy, but your rent was most definitely due. Fucking rent.

You pull your hair into the most basic hairstyle, and wear the most basic clothes in your wardrobe, basically screaming, look! I'm melancholy and my world exists only in black and white and that one shade of beige! Pick me!

You fight the urge to dye your hair bright pink, simply for the sake of it.

You throw your curtains open and are met by the lovely sight of ugly houses and filth. Ah, the city life.

Switching off the lights, you grab your very typical book bag, which is probably the only bag that isn't from the prehistoric ages. Typical and basic is a nice look, and damn do you feel professional and hot, but why is it all in fucking beige, black, and white? With tinges of grey, of course, for the flair. Plus, it's itchier than your grand-uncles beard hair when they'd rub against your shoulder when he'd hug you.

Breakfast is, well, non-existent at this point. It's not that you don't have food, you just can't cook. The last time you tried making french toast, it ended up looking like your dead cremated grandmother's remains.

You open the door, nearly stepping on a neatly wrapped box that's been placed in front of your door.

Is it my birthday?

No, it's not, unless you somehow forgot.

You pick up the box, studying it. There's a note attached to the top, '

sorry for the phone, thanks for the compliment, have fun with all your soup. Wrote my number on te box if ya wanna talk. Also, what the fuck is a Zukoh?'

You hold your breath as you unwrap the gift, your mouth falling open in shock when you finish. He bought you an actual phone. An actual fucking phone.

You grin, making your way out of your building as you set it up and save his number into it. He picks up on the second ring.

"Uh, hi?" he sounds awkward and hesitant, as though he expects you to somehow hurl insults and the box at his face through the phone.

"I see you're sugar daddy material," you say, already grinning as you board the bus.

"I'm a what?"

"Let me explain,"

Oh, his poor innocence.

[mystic-wolf]

first time with the boys // aoba johsai

Here's aoba johsais version for you thirsty thots. (Fun fact oikawas first time is based on my first time lmao)

Tooru Oikawa

You're his first.

This man is the king of flirting but boy kept his virginity for someone special. Aka you!!

You'd of been flirting for so long and dancing on the edge of being in a relationship, both of you two scared yo fully commit.

Got drunk at a Halloween party and he eventually just mumbled out how much he likes you and wants to be your pretty boyfriend.

Ofc you said yes.

He'd dressed as a devil with spikey red horns and you as an angel. He looked adorable tbh.

Carried you home on his back and nearly dropped you trying to climb the fence.

Stumbled upstairs smothering each other in kisses and fell onto the bed in a mound of giggles.

You were both still a little tipsy but he'd ask if he could fuck you in your costume cause you look so hot. Of course you said yes and fumbled around in your purse for a condom.

He'd gotten all cocky saying how you'd planned this and couldn't resist him so you just smacked his cheek with the packet before tugging his pants and boxers down.

This man is packing, he knows and he's proud.

Makes a joke about how lucky you are to have him before you shove his shoulders down onto the bed and he loses the attitude.

Becomes a whining mess when you slide onto his cock.

His nails scratch at your thighs, the bedsheets, tug through his hair. Anything to try and cope with the immense pleasure.

Cums super early. He's never felt anything like this in his entire life.

Calls you princess when he cums.

He'd eat you out with his cum still inside you, just wanting you to experience the same amount of pleasure he did.

Looks up at you between your legs with those stupid devil horns on and tells you to cum for him.

You two just lie there for nearly an hour kissing and cuddling before finally moving to take a shower and get rid of your dumb costumes.

Hajime Iwaizumi

You've both got experience when you finally sleep together.

Iwa's a little shit and flirts to no end for months until you end up grinding up against him at a nightclub and he loses it.

Has a hard on immediately and you'd just press your ass even harder against him, pretend you're too drunk to realise.

He'd wrap his hand around your throat to pull you flush against his body and mumble how he's gonna destroy you when you get home.

Literally all you think about the entire night until hes pulling you into his apartment and lifting you off your feet to press against the wall.

His hands grab at your ass and he digs his fingers in stupidly hard until you cry out in pain and he fucking laughs against your lips.

Tells you how hard he's gonna fuck you and how you won't be walking straight for a week when he's done with you.

Practically throws you on the bed as he starts to strip and tells you to do the same.

You rip your dress a little trying to unzip it and throw it somewhere across the room.

Iwa slides his knee between your thighs when he kisses you and you can't help but grind down against his muscled thighs. He makes a joke about you getting off just from that.

Replaces his knee with 2 of his fingers and eats up all the noises you make. You moan at how good it is, how talented he is with his fingers.

Iwa loves the praise.

He guides one of your hands to his cock and it looks so dainty because of how big it is.

You get him to full hardness and ask next time this happens if he'll face fuck you.

He's too lost in you wanting a second round to answer and just roughly presses his entire length into you.

You cry out and scratch at his shoulders a little until the hot pain starts to fade and then demand he fuck you into next week.

And this boy delivers.

He puts your ankles on his shoulders, one hand wrapped around your pretty neck as he rails you into the bed sheets.

You feel like he's fucked your brains out because all you can do is lay there cross eyed and mouth open in a constant string of moans.

You're already close but when his thumb starts to rub at your clit you lose it.

You shake against the bed and his body, tongue poking out and eyes fluttering shut as he fucks you through your orgasm.

So full of himself he'd just carry on and say how good he is and how lucky you are to have his cock. And even in your dumbed out state you'd weakly fight back and say he should be thankful he gets to fuck someone so pretty.

You just smirk and tell him to cum for you and by God does that get to him.

Squeezes your throat so tight when he cums and leaves tiny bruises against your skin.

He'd be super apologetic after and ask if you was okay and he'd be floored when you said you wanted him to do it again.

Afterwards you'd just lie in his bed in your underwear sharing a beer with him.

Issei Matsukawa

You both have experience, him moreso than you as he's older.

He'd seen you around college campus and got absolutely infatuated with seeing you everyday and what skirt you'd be wearing.

Got the courage to speak to you one day when you was sat on a bench doing work.

You'd become fast friends and spent a lot of time together and being horny 21 year olds it eventually lead to hooking up.

Brought you back to his dorm and dragged you too his bedroom before you could comment on the horrendous mess.

He hates his dorm mates right now.

He'd push you onto your hands and knees on the bed and nearly rip your thong when he pulls it to the side to stick his tongue against your ass.

You drop your head into the pillows to muffle the surprise.

He'd slip two fingers into your cunt and eat your ass until you're practically screaming for him to stop and just fuck you.

He's a tease and a huge dom though so he'd make you beg for him until he's satisfied.

You'd turn around so you're on your back and spread your legs, pushing your own fingers inside and grabbing one of you boobs through your shirt.

He'd let you have your fun for a moment and then rip your hands away and pin them to the bed.

Calls you a little whore.

He'd pull his shorts and boxers down just enough to pull his cock out and thrust in so hard he pushes you up the bed.

He's so fucking big and he wouldn't give you time to adjust and just fuck you relentless into his mattress.

You'd scratch at his shoulders and back, feeling blood catch under your nails.

He kinda gets off on that.

He makes sure you're super close before he cums so he can time it right. He really wants you to cum when he's spilling into you.

Best orgasm ever.

You'd just be a dead weight on the bed and he'd laugh and joke about you needing to leave before his roommate comes home.

Hes kidding of course and texts him to swerve for the night.

Helps you clean up and lets you pick out a movie on his laptop whilst he orders McDonald's.

You cuddle into his naked chest and share chicken nuggets.

Yutaro Kindaichi

You're his first.

Baby would be so nervous and shy whenever you touch him. He'd always ask if the lights could stay off even when you just gave him a handjob.

Definitely happened when he graduated.

He wanted it to be a special occasion when he said he was still a virgin and that he wanted you to take it.

You have to constantly reassure him and give him complements, sometimes he still feels he isn't good enough for you.

Asks if you can take control and show him what to do.

Please be gentle with him he's super nervous even though he wants it to happen.

You'd slip his jacket off and start kissing his neck and exposed collar bones so softly before stripping him of his shirt.

You spend so long just sat in his lap on the edge of the bed pressed against his chest and kissing him softly before he bites your lip and asks if you'll strip for him.

You try to put on a little show put end up tripping taking your socks off and he's just all giggles and smiles. Makes him feel less nervous too.

Asks you what position you prefer and you just push him onto his back and straddle his hips. He gets the idea.

He's ridiculously sensitive and asks if you can go slow he doesn't bust a nut in 3 seconds.

Touches you all over when you start to slowly move. He squeezes your thighs, your hips your boobs, just anything he can fit in his hands.

Even going slow he'd cum pretty quick, you just feel so good wrapped tight around him.

Tries to cover his face when he cums but you grab his hands before he can so you can see his face. His eyes are scrunched shut, cheeks flushed and hair sticking to his forehead.

He looks like an angel tbh.

You'd finish yourself off because he'd be too spent to even pull out of you let alone move.

He goes all soft and shy again when you clean up and pulls you between his legs so you can cuddle your back against his chest.

Says how much he loves you and kisses the side of your neck.

Kentarou Kyotani

You're each others first.

This boy is so blunt and clumsy he'd just be making out with you on his bed and just ask if you want to have sex.

You say you do and get a little nervous saying it'll be your first time and he's just all chill like yeah me too babes.

Kisses your fears away and slowly strips you of your clothes.

He'd just stop and stare and get lost in how gorgeous your naked body looks spread across his bed.

Kisses down your body and settles between your thighs until you start whining for him to strip too.

He wastes no time in doing that.

Kisses the inside of your thighs and traces his finger across your skin.

He loves when you start whining quietly and ask him to do something.

Saves you the embarrassment of making you say what and slowly runs his tongue across your cunt and runs circles into your hip bones.

Definitely growls against you because the noises you make are going straight to his cock.

He's already half hard and dripping.

He'd tease you a little and whisper dirty things against your ear as he gets himself fully hard to your breath against his cheek.

You wrap your arms around his shoulders and pull him into a kiss as he pushes in.

You bite his lip at the sudden pain and he doesn't start to move until you say so. He's a good boy.

Fucks you so slowly in fear of hurting you because he's pretty big and its your first time.

He sucks bruises into your neck and circles his thumb on your clit until you're writhing underneath him.

Your nails drag down his back and draw blood when you cum with a cry on his name.

That just spurs him on even more as he fucks you through your orgasm saying how amazing you are and how much he loves you before he pulls out and cums onto your chest.

Licks his own cum off your breasts and nips both of your nipples slightly which gets you laughing.

You both fall asleep naked and sticky under the sheets.

[poptod]

Hey dear, I absolutely loved your recent Safin fic--I'm hopelessly whipped for that man and have been sad at how little content there is for him. You write him wonderfully! An ask from your resident entomologist (that's me, the bug person): I'm in love with the idea of Safin perhaps working with an entomologist that specializes in venomous/poisonous insects (details are irrelevant). They're in a relationship, and in awe of each other's respective fields (plants and insects). Smut is, of course, welcome (and encouraged, but lord we do not need to talk about how obsessed I am with him). Apologies for the long and weirdly specific ask...I'm excited to see what you do with this! Merci, chère!

notes: hello! i actually have a little interest in insects myself so hopefully i didnt get any terminology or anything wrong.. i prolly did but its not super integral to the plot lol anyway i hope u enjoy this! the song in this is called hila ya rumana and its from iraq :) and honestly, i gotta note, im really liking studying poisons, and im worried the fbi is gonna show up at my door lmao

warning: i went like all out on the smut, i mean its super consensual this time but it is All Out WC: 4.7k

+

You weren't sure if you were working with him or for him. Your years-long friendship would indicate the former, but the way he talked to you now, and the way he treated you, insinuated the latter.

For months now you'd been milking insects––sometimes literally––while in the employ of a man you'd known since your teen years. His name was Lyutsifer, but most of the time you called him by his last name, Safin. He took you into his home after years of being missing, and in some strange form of longing, you accepted his request; help him to eliminate en mass the people who so cruelly hurt him, who scarred him.

Still, despite the less than optimal conditions, he kept you close to him and asked you to spend much of your free-time with him. In those hours you would eat together and speak in hushed voices, sitting close together in deep secrecy. You were still his closest friend.

For now your back ached from being hunched over, a massive pair of magnifying glasses weighing you down till a headache sparked in the base of your skull. You couldn't stop just now––the bullet ant beneath your scalpel and forceps would only live for a few minutes more, and you needed to stimulate and milk as much of its' venom out as possible. A tiny vial was balanced between your third and fourth finger, ready to collect the continuous chemical.

The venom of bullet ants very rarely––if ever at all––killed a human, but they were impeccably, excruciatingly, perfectly painful, and that was what Safin wanted. He already had the power to kill. He wanted to maim. Poneratoxin would be only the first ingredient in his concoction.

"Do I need to order more?" Came his voice over your shoulder, appearing with his steel eyes on your hands and the warmth of his chest on your back.

You straightened your back ever so slightly.

"If you want to perform chemical tests, yes," you mumbled, keeping your attention avidly upon your work.

"You really think they'll react to each other?"

"Ammonia and bleach create something else when they're mixed."

"Yes, but it's still deadly," he said.

A smile itched across your lips, bursting into soft laughter. Safin chuckled as well, and ran his hands over your shoulders, digging his thumbs into the knots there before he left your lab.

"You'll get your ants," he said as he disappeared, "and your beetles."

Pain and fear. It's what he felt, he said––it's what he wanted. While you extracted the poisons from a varying number of insect species, he bred a strain of datura for its' poison; a substance he told you to be a mix of atropine and scopolamine. The alkalines caused hallucinations, paranoia, seizures, and all sorts of damage in the nerves and muscles. Deaths were apparently rare, but that wasn't what Safin was curating their poison for––he just wanted an elixir built for suffering.

"I told you I don't want you coming in here," he said, his voice reaching you in the cavernous garden before you could ever see him.

You'd taken not two steps onto the soft earth before he was telling you to leave.

"Because I may hurt myself?" You asked with a chuckle.

There was silence before he answered, almost regretfully, "yes. I don't want to see you in such a state."

"I work with poison every day, Safin."

"Poisons secured within exoskeletons.. organs, teeth, and stingers. It's different from leaves and seeds and you know that," he said as he rose from his knees, appearing behind a large, spiky bush.

"I know," you murmured, watching as he drew nearer. "I wanted to see you."

He quirked a single brow, looking down upon you.

"Well, now we both have to decontaminate." He pulled off his gloves and tossed them aside.

"By taking our clothes off?" You giggled, crossing your arms.

"Yes, actually."

The smile fell from your face, replaced by a warmth that filled your cheeks.

"Oh."

There was no question, but even if there was, he already knew what your answer would be. He was infatuated and it showed; it showed in his words, in his manner, how he undressed you like he was revealing something special, and how he kept your eye as the both of you entered a waterfall of soft, warm water. You weren't much better, pressing yourself to his chest and reaching up to ruffle through his wet hair. His hands fell to your waist in an attempt to balance you as he chuckled.

He grabbed your wrists to pull you away from his hair, but before he gave them back to you, he kissed your palm. You chuckled and shook your head, reaching up to stroke his face.

"So beautiful, my love," he murmured, leaning into your touch so his lips brushed your pulse.

You giggled and repeated him; "so beautiful, my darling."

It was the first time he kissed you, but it felt like anything but new. It felt like something familiar, something home, something more normal than breathing or speaking. His lips melded to yours, dripping with the shower water that fell in the space between you. The feeling of his tongue running against your bottom lip wasn't enough to distract you from his hands, which ran up and down your bare waist and hips, squeezing and soothing the dark marks his nails left.

Your hair was still damp by dinnertime. Despite wet hair, he left you high and dry, leaving chaste kisses as he dutifully cleaned you and himself. Now he pulled a fur coat over your shoulders, protecting you against the autumn's chill.

The midnight sky was particularly clear tonight, unmarred by clouds or a moon, who had disappeared for now. Their absence led to the revelation of the milky way, its' reverence, the glow of dark matter leaving a trail of shadows that the stars subsisted off of, coloring the pathways in green, purple, and blue. It was all that caught your eye, even as Safin stepped out onto the balcony carrying two plates.

He kissed the top of your head as he passed you, handing you your plate.

"How many vials of the bullet ant's venom have you now?" He asked once he sat down, situating his food.

"Five now," you said. "I was thinking we should add monarch butterflies to the equation."

He paused.

"Butterflies?" He repeated, turning to you.

"Consuming the catepillar or butterfly can cause confusion and nausea in high enough doses."

"You and I both know it gets that poison from milkweed. If you just want to study the butterflies, you can do so," he said with a low chuckle. "I don't mind funding a few of your side projects, so long as you keep up with our... concoction."

"R.. really?" You asked, wide-eyed.

"Of course, my dear," he cooed as he took your hands. "What's mine will always be yours. It has always been that way."

"Oh. Thank you," you said in a soft voice. "I actually... lately I've.. I've been interested in this specific Pacific beetle that creates this special milk –"

He laughed, and when he did, you couldn't help but stare at him with your own dumbstruck grin.

"Beetle milk?" He asked.

"It's not really milk. Well, it's kind of milk. And it's not really a beetle, it's technically a cockroach, it's the only cockroach to give birth to live young, hence the milk."

As you rambled, he listened intently, leaning forward and into your warmth. Most everyone you met were disgusted whenever you talked about the bugs, so his unending patience melted your entirety. It was just like him, too––so kind, so very in love, and so very rarely showing that to anyone but you.

After dinner and a long discussion concerning your next steps in your experiments, the two of you bid each other good-night and left to your respective rooms. They were close to one another, and you could still hear him pacing a wall over, disturbing your burning eyes and sore muscles. Your blankets remained wrapped tight around your shoulders, shielding you from the general cold of Safin's home. How could he pace bare-footed at 2 in the morning in a room below 55 degrees?

With a groan, you rolled off the low bed and onto the floor, slowly raising yourself to your feet. A long, thick blanket surrounded you like a plush cape, and the end of it dragged against the floor as you padded the short way over to his door.

You knocked and the footsteps finally paused, resuming till the door clicked and swung open. Despite his lack of sleep, he looked far more put-together than you did.

"... hello," he said, raising a single brow.

"I heard you pacing," you mumbled, sniffing through a stuffy nose. "Are you alright?"

"Oh. Yes, I'm quite fine," he said quietly. "Did I wake you?"

"No, I never fell asleep," you said.

Technically, that was still his fault, but you decided to forgo mentioning that.

"Neither did I," he said, though you assumed as much. "Perhaps we should find something to put ourselves to sleep."

"Like a drug?"

"Anything at all."

You paused to think a moment, pulling your bottom lip through your teeth.

"How about tea?" You suggested.

"Sounds wonderful," he said.

You were quick to regret not putting on slippers as you continued to roam down the halls, warmed by only a large blanket and no socks. Fortunately, the kitchen wasn't far, and you crawled up onto a tall stool, leaning most of your weight on the kitchen's island. Your blinking grew slower as you slouched. Out of the corner of your eye, you spied Safin preparing to heat some water.

Only a moment later he was at your side, wrapping his arms around your midsection and digging his nose into your neck. You flinched from how cold his nose was, but he just laughed, and you hunched your shoulders with a grin.

He swayed back and forth, humming something you couldn't really hear but that lulled you further into your exhaustion anyways. Vibrations from his chest passed to yours.

"Aibtisamat alfatat aljamilat jaealatha 'akthar halawatan," he spoke in a soft melody, his words brushing the shell of your ear like petals. "Eindama raha alakhrun tazhar, lam yastatie 'ahad.."

You chuckled quietly and asked, "what are you singing?"

"An old lullaby," he murmured, and his swaying slowed. "My mother used to sing it... at times."

"Do you know it in English?"

He paused before he answered.

"A part of it. I don't recall the whole song."

With no further action from him, you turned in your seat, separating yourself only a moment so you could look him in the eye. Despite the space, your hands continued to pull his hips and waist into you.

"Can you sing it for me?" You whispered, staring into warm, but empty, eyes.

"I can try," he said stiffly.

You nodded with a slow blink and leant into him, resting your head against his chest. His heartbeat pounded beneath your ear.

When he sang, those subtle vibrations caused a swell in your heart, electrified by something you rarely heard. He kept a trill in the notes that gave way for an assurance that this was an Arabic song he was singing––something from his heritage, and obviously, from his childhood.

"He will make earrings for her, and a ring and necklace," he began with a similar melody. "The smile of a beautiful girl made more sweet. When the others saw her appear, not one was able to close their eyes. Oh my soul, my life and my virgin love, I was bored from my impatience, and my soul is love to see you."

You hardly noticed when he stopped singing, and were only roused from your stupor by him gently shaking your shoulders.

"I kept you awake with my pacing, didn't I," he murmured, carding his fingers through your unkempt hair.

"A little," you attempted to say, but your mouth was still pressed against his chest.

"I think... if you fall asleep first, in my bed," he said softly, "I won't have as much trouble myself."

You lifted your head off of him.

"Are you asking me to sleep with you?"

It had to be the first time you'd seen him stutter or hesitate; your own eyes widened in response.

"I think it would be.. beneficial... for both of us," he finally answered.

"Maybe," you mumbled, your gaze fluttering down to his lips.

His own eyes wandered as well, distracted as you were, before he leaned only an inch forward to meet you in a soft kiss. He barely touched you with his gentleness, touching you like your skin was a sheen of frost that would soon melt beneath him. He was right––you did melt, and he did his best to catch you.

The kettle began to hiss, and Safin groaned against your lips, leaning his weight into you. You giggled, pushing him away from you. With a long sigh he relented, leaving your space to pull down two cups and turn off the stove.

By the time he got back to you, your cheek was back to being pressed against the freezing counter, warm, fuzzy breaths filling your chest. A ceramic mug clinked brightly as he set it down in favor of stroking your hair.

"Drink a little with me," he said, pushing the cup towards you as he sipped at his own tea.

You drew a long breath as you raised your head, reaching forward with a sloth-like claw to pull the cup into you. Safin watched with a bated sense of amusement as you took a sip, your eyes still half closed, and your chin barely six inches off the table.

He chuckled as your eyes widened, shifting to him.

"Green tea?" You asked quietly.

"Chamomile."

You didn't get through much more than a quarter of your cup before he offered a little mercy, pushing your drinks away and helping you to your feet. The shivers returned from the cold floor, but despite that discomfort, you still barely had enough consciousness to speak to Safin when he led you into his room instead of yours.

Nothing left your mouth, even though the words were there.

He hummed that melody again as he helped you into bed, pulling the blankets over you, and eventually sliding in beside you. The black room rendered your eyesight useless, and you regressed to depending upon touch and sound, both of which you soon felt––hands around your waist, pulling you in, and a long, soft breath leaving Safin. Your muscles went lax, and you leant into him.

His scent filled your dreams.

It took months of experimentation trying to replicate the various serums, poisons, and venoms artificially, a task that you and Safin worked at simultaneously. Now that the collection of samples were complete, the vials could be used for reaction cataloguing and studying. That pushed your work into a different lab––one you shared with Safin.

"I... despise chemistry," he said to you one day, his eyes glued to a glass tank full of white mice. He was crouched down to its' level, his hands on his knees, squinting as though they'd committed some sort of misdeed.

You chuckled.

"Isn't that one of the main parts of your job?"

"Yes," he said, rather bitterly. "That doesn't mean I have to enjoy it."

"It's not that bad. They're still dying, Safin," you said with a sigh, leaning against the counter.

"Not in the right ways," he hissed. "I don't want this quick death we've been getting."

You paused in thought, chewing on your tongue and your cheek.

"If we make several different substances, each that targets a different organ, that might work. But we'd need a special way to get it into their systems, a way that wouldn't mix it beforehand or after consumption. Something like a complex pill."

"Wouldn't it just mix in the stomach?"

"Yes, well, it would be a very complex pill," you said, chuckling as you shrugged halfheartedly. "It's not a great idea."

"No it's not."

Ouch.

"You just need something that'll activate the pain neurons and the brain neurons and then keep them firing, like a pesticide, but for humans," you said.

He bit into his lip, letting out a harsh sigh as he leant his arms on the counter, bowing his head between them.

"How does a pesticide kill insects?" He asked after a long moment of silence.

You pushed down your amusement––for his sake.

"Couple different ways. DDT does essentially what I said," you said, crossing your arms. "Keeps the neurons firing, so they have seizures until they're too exhausted to keep breathing and they die."

"Jesus Christ."

"Yeah," you chuckled. "Does that sound good?"

"Fuck," he breathed out, straightening his posture and flicking his black hair back.

He turned to you and took your hands, raising them to his face, and kissed you from the tips of your fingers to your lips. You giggled as he pressed fluttering kisses to your neck, but gladly returned the affection once he reached his mark.

"That sounds wonderful," he murmured beside your ear.

"If we stun them with the seizures, it'll give us time to give them a second poison," you suggested quietly, your own lips beside his ear. "Something far more painful."

"Mmm," he hummed, leaning into you. "Devious, my love."

"I think you like it," you said.

His hips digging into yours would indicate so.

"And you may be right," he said, and his teeth dug into your neck, causing you to arch against him with a gasp.

Rough hands kept you pinned beneath him, settling any reactive jerks that rushed through your body. He forced you into staying still, and he forced his leg between yours, pulling your hips down to grind your core against his thigh with a bruising grip. All the while, his tongue and teeth tested the sensitive skin of your clavicle.

"What would I do without you," he asked, allowing his lips to move against your skin as he spoke. "Something to play with."

"You'd be lonely," you murmured as you dug your fingers into his scalp. "All alone, up in this lab of yours." He stilled for a moment to breathe in your scent, slowly moving up to face you. "But you won't be alone anymore."

"You won't leave?" He asked, but it wasn't a question––it was a demand. His gaze had turned cold.

"No," you said softly, pulling him in by a hand on his cheek. "No, not ever."

A darkness shadowed his expression as he leant in the rest of the way, his lips meeting yours in pillowy bliss. How he kept his lips soft in the frigid weather was beyond you, but you appreciated it deeply, wrapping your arms around his shoulders to draw him in closer.

His touch seemed its' own poison, dripping onto your tongue by way of his thumb, running over your chest and hips. You could barely move with him pressed to you so tightly, so you could do nothing when his thumb hooked into your jaw beneath your tongue and forced you down to your knees. Your muscles ached from the impact, but before you could speak, he was gripping your hair and pulling you up, grinding your face against his cock poking through his pants.

"I know you've got a talented tongue, darling," he said, and there was a wicked smile on his face, his eyes flickering with sparks of pleasure. "I've wanted to do this for so long."

You chuckled and mouthed at his erection, watching how his eyelids fluttered shut and a soft groan left his mouth.

For a moment you fumbled with the latch keeping his pants shut, but once you undid it, you pulled down his boxers and grinned. You pumped him with one hand, and propped your chin on his angled hips.

"How long have you wanted this, baby?" You asked in a coo, puffing out your bottom lip.

He took in a deep breath, jerking his hold on your hair when you ran your thumb over the tip of his cock.

"Don't play coy," he hissed, pulling your chin off him, "and don't tease. Now open your mouth."

You should've opened your mouth. But some brat inside you, someone who hated orders, kept your mouth shut and your hand pumping his base. Seeing that, his jaw steeled and a growl built in his throat.

He leased his grasp on your hair, moving to instead push his thumb back into your mouth, hooking back in and forcing you to open. You let him, and you let him shove his cock inside you, instantly hitting the back of your throat. You could feel his muscles tense and untense beneath you before he began pumping himself into you, keeping you still with a hand twisted back in your hair.

"Didn't know you were such a brat," he grunted out, letting his head fall back. "I'll have to train you, teach you to be a good whore. Fuck."

You moaned around him, sending vibrations up his cock that ended with shivers up his spine. Words tumbled forth when you wrapped your tongue partway around him, tracing swirls up and down while he continued to thrust into you.

"There you are, my darling, being such a good toy for me. So obedient."

Tears budded on the edge of your eyes, but before they could drop he was hauling you back up to your feet, pushing you up onto the counter and wrapping your legs around his hips. His lips were back on yours, soothing the burn of your own lips stretching around his thick cock.

But he didn’t move further––he just kept kissing you, kept roaming your body with large hands, and never descending to where you needed him most.

"Mm – aren't you –" You tried to speak, but he kept barraging you with kisses. "Aren't you going to fuck me?"

"Is that what you want, darling?" He asked, grinding his hips against your clothed center, sending heat up from your core to your chest in bursts of lightning. "Is that what you need?"

"Yes, yes, please," you begged, relenting to his touch when he began to stroke you through your pants. Your own hands gripped at his hair and his back, ensuring he wouldn't leave you. "Please, baby, please."

"Of course, my love," he said softly beside your ear, tracing his fingers down to the hem of your pants and slipping them underneath. 

He stepped away for only a moment to pull your clothes off, tossing them into corners of the lab that didn't exist to you anymore. When he returned, he slid his cock between your thighs, teasing but never going inside. You whined, nearing tears once more.

"Safiiiinnnnn," you said in a moan, dragging out his name in a way that had his hips jerking forward.

His eyes pierced yours as he gripped your chin, forcing you to look him in the eye.

"Beg for me."

"Please fuck me, Safin, I need you," you mumbled, barely hearing yourself speak with your fuzzy mind.

"Louder."

"Fuck, just touch me! Anything at all," you finally cried, desperate for anything. "Please, I need you so bad."

He grabbed a fistful of your locks.

"And what do you need?" He asked, tilting his head to the side.

"I need your cock," you sniffled. "Please baby, I'll let you do anything, anything you want."

You knew he didn't need all this––he was just getting off on it, on the control he now so obviously held over you. You couldn't deny you were getting off on it, too.

"There we are, my darling," he murmured, stroking the back of his finger down your cheek. "Properly ruined."

Without warning he shoved himself inside you, his thick cock stretching you out almost painfully. You let out a cry, but that didn't stop him, and he began thrusting into you, leaving your body shaking.

"Fuck, so wet for me," he said between moans and grunts. He slapped the soft underside of your thighs, making you yelp. "All for me, aren't you? All mine."

You couldn't respond, overwhelmed by the sparks that flew every time he pounded into you, filling you and pushing on your g-spot. Though you found it too hard to keep track, you knew you'd come at some point, and now it was just building. 

He chuckled at your helpless state and continued fucking you, heedless of your overstimulated moans. To his amusement, your state only degraded, and soon your head was jerking to the side, your nails digging into his skin as you were left to the whims of your electrified nerves.

Hiding in the crook of his neck, you allowed the moans to flow loose from your mouth, heating the space between you. A wicked idea formed in your cloudy head, and you raised yourself to press your lips to his jaw.

"I need you to cum inside me, baby," you breathed out, feeling the way he tensed under you and his thrusts grew in speed and strength. "I wanna be dripping with your cum."

He cursed beneath his breath and, after pounding himself into you several more times, he stilled as deep as he could inside you, releasing with a long, pretty moan against your shoulder. You felt his cum pouring out into you, painting your walls a creamy white that leaked out around his cock. The mere feeling of that spurred on your last orgasm, thriving off the feeling of him slowly thrusting himself back in and out of you.

When he slipped out of you, some of his seed came dripping out of you and onto the lab floor. He stared at it and then looked up at you.

"This whole lab will need to be sanitized," he said.

You laughed, throwing your head back, still riding on your own elation. He was right.

It was your best bet; the closest to what you wanted. Strychnine targeted the spinal cord's nerves, blotting out the nerves' control on the body's muscles. That constant stimulation caused continuous seizures that, in the right amounts, would lead to such a deep exhaustion in the muscles that the victim would simply stop breathing. Their muscles simply wouldn't let them anymore. You saw it more times than you truly cared to––Safin wanted to be ensured that the secondary poison would take affect after the strychnine did.

The pain, though present in strychnine, fully came into play with a substance coming from one of Safin's plants. Its' name was moroides, and it wasn't an especially poisonous substance––that wasn't its job. Moroides purpose in your hands was to cause pain, and considering people had died from the sheer level of pain induced by the plant, Safin considered it to be a high contender. Later on, after seeing how the two toxins interacted, his mind was set on the chemical.

He was smiling. You, on the other hand, were leant against the counter, your arms crossed as you watched him. You understood his need for revenge, that desire for retribution, but he seemed to enjoy watching the mice die. He kept giving them the poisons––strychnine first, moroides second. Over and over again.

"Isn't that beautiful," he murmured, his gaze enraptured in the furry, writhing creatures within the glass cage.

You pushed down the vomit building in your throat. He called you beautiful, as well.

"I think we've done enough tests," you said quietly.

"Perhaps so," he said, and his gaze lingered on the mice before he turned to you. "We have so little left to do."

You cocked your chin upwards, watching carefully as he approached you.

"Does that make you happy?" You asked.

He fell silent for a moment, deciding to stare instead of respond, enraptured in your gaze.

"I will miss working with you," he admitted in a soft voice.

"There will always be other things to work on."

"Other people to.. punish," he murmured, and his gaze fell to your lips, capturing them in a quick kiss. "Others who deserve punishment."

"Exactly," you said with a grin, beaming your thrill into him, and drawing out a smile in him, as well.

"My darling," he said, stroking your cheek with his thumb, "we will be forgotten heroes in history."

[retroellie]

Ellie Williams as a mom

Summary: Ellie and Joel daughter!reader as moms <3

A/N: I’m not done with requests but this was in my head so i had to do it :)  Also sorry i haven’t been active, i have literally had no motivation at all lmao. 

Warnings: Mentions of NSFW, mentions of miscarriage (not really but just incase) 

Word count: 1.5K 

- When you found out you were pregnant, oh my lord she was so excited. (Lets just say y’all were planning it so it’s not like the dina situation) 

-You guys keep in on the down low for a minute just so you know your pregnant and your not gonna lose the baby

-It literally eats her up inside cause she wants to show you off

-Once you get past like 3 months, you can’t really hide it anymore so the first person you tell is your dad (Joel) 

-Joel is so happy oml he could cry 

-Than slowly everyone finds out, everyone loved you and ellie so this baby wasn’t just yours it was the community’s 

-Everyone was happy for the two of you 

-Ellie was the most excited though, she loved every single thing about you being pregnant 

-She would caress your belly, giving it soft kisses while you tried to take a nap 

-She would talk to your little belly too<3 

-”Hey kiddo, it’s your mom. Well your other mom, hey i wonder how that would work?? Will they call us both mom.” 

-”You know, you're gonna have the coolest family. You got your Granddaddy Joel, the coolest man ever. You have your momma, just like her daddy the coolest most badass woman you’ll ever meet.” 

-”One day, when you get older. I’m gonna take you to the moon with me and of course your momma’s gonna come with us.”

-Everything you need she gets you, she wants to spoil both of her babies

-She loves seeing you pregnant but she hates the effects it has on you 

-Your really tired all the time, your feet swell up sometimes, and the stomach aches you get 

-Around 4 or 5 months you decide to get the farmhouse, y’all want your own space with each other and the baby 

-Joel’s not really happy about it, he doesn’t want his babygirl to get hurt ya know 

-”You guys can build a little farmhouse here in jackson, you know where there’s protection and your families here.” 

-”Dad, I love it here but we need our own space. I want this kid to grow up independent, you never know what’s going to happen to me and ellie.” 

-Joel can’t fight with you, he just gives in because it’s what you want and he wants you to be happy

-Plus he will most definitely do country boy things there because he’s a whore for a good farm house 

-Moving out was hard for you, you had to say goodbye to your friends even if you do live literally 5 minutes from Jackson plus girl your pregnant; hormones are going crazy 

-The whole town help you guys get situated, imaging that is so cute idc 

-The pregnant sex in the farmhouse hits differently because your horny all the time and ellie just loves how sensitive you are because of the hormones

 -I swear y’all have sex at least 3 times a day

-Morning sex, after breakfast sex, lunch sex, ‘this painting is tiring’ sex, before and after dinner sex, shower sex, before bed sex 

-Maria is definitely planned a baby shower for y’all and she went full on out 

-Obviously babies are born in Jackson often but it’s not every day when the town leader’s niece is having a baby, so it’s huge 

-Joel gave you a crib he made, LORD IMMA CRY WAIT A MINUTE 

-Everyone pitches in to give y’all something 

-You and ellie decorate the nursery together, it’s definitely space themed idc 

-Joel and tommy help too :) Joel helps paint the crib he made with stars and rocket ships 

-It takes 5 days to complete but it’s so worth it

-The walls are painted dark blue with white little stars and your dad helped you make a little planet mobile 

-By the time your 7-8 months you guys are mostly comfortable and happy, the house is almost done and the farm is growing little by little 

-There’s still stuff to do around the house and it bothers you so you're always doing stuff 

-Ellie hates it because mama you are literally about to pop and you still out here carrying pieces of wood upstairs 

-”Baby, you gotta be careful or your gonna end up giving birth on the stairs” She jokes

 -”I’m not incapable of doing things baby, i’ll be fine; plus it’ll build her muscles up, she’ll be okay.” You joke back 

-Joel always told you that you were like your mom, never stopping even if your carrying another human in your stomach 

-Around the end of 8 months you had decided to stay back at Jackson because you could go into labor at any time 

-When you finally give birth it is the hardest thing you have ever done 

-Your family is in the room with you and ellie is holding your hand, even throughout the pain you're still cracking jokes with ellie 

-”Woah! Okay your hand is all the way inside” 

-”Womb tour *sobs*” 

-”If i go through all this pain for my baby to not like David bowie, i swear it’s going back in.” 

-Ellie is literally dying of laughter

-She holds you hand the entire time and she gives you soft kisses

-When the baby finally get here, there is a wave of relief that comes over you

-You stay in Jackson for a little bit for a week or 2 until you guys can go back home

-Ellie does literally everything you need her to do because your still healing 

-She will gladly stay in bed with you all day if you need her too 

-She willingly gets up in the middle of the night with the baby just to let you sleep and it hurts her heart when she has to wake you up to breastfeed 

-Speaking of breastfeeding, it makes her blush a little when your breastfeeding 

-She finds it so hot when you parent, idk how to explain it but it just gets her going 

-She also loves your mom bod, like your boobs got a lil more bigger and your hips got wider 

-She just loves you as a mom, like she thinks you are so hot 

-Ellie loves holding the baby, She’s so soft and small. She will never get over how pure she is 

-Ellie will show her around the farm, showing her all the animals and making her giggle 

-She’ll love to spend time with the baby, she’s such a good mommy i swear 

-She will definitely make time for you of course

-You guys don’t even have to smash to feel satisfied, just 20 minutes alone with each other would be good enough for the both of you 

-She loves when you call her mommy throughout the day 

-”Well good morning mommy” 

-”Does mommy wanna watch too.” 

-It’s so soft and cute, ugh she’s just a big ole softy now 

-Grandpa joel....that’s all

-He’d be such a good grandpa, he would spoil that child rotten 

-He would tell you how to parent, as annoying as it could be sometimes you appreciate the help because you honestly have no idea what you're doing sometimes 

-”You're patting her too softly, you have to do it a bit harder.” 

-”Dad... I know what i’m doing.” 

-”I know, i know. I just want her to get a good burp in, don’t we?” He said to the baby, smiling down at her 

-Joel definitely babysits all the time, like he will straight up ask you if he could take your kid in for the night 

-you and ellie let him, obviously y’all need a decent night of sleep and a night full of... you know ;)

-Ellie does yoga with you to help you get back in shape, ellie doesn’t think you need too because she loves your belly <3 (your beautiful babe :))

-But you just want to regulate your body back a little bit

-You guys and the baby would have little pinics together, they are so cute 

-You have pictures upon pictures of the baby on the wall, like literally your baby has taken over the house 

- Dancing with the baby obviously 

-Ellie would read to the baby a lot, there has been countless times when she had fallen asleep in the rocking chair with the baby 

-Ellie massages your boobies when they get sore from breastfeeding, she feels so bad :(

-Joel and Tommy make wooden toys for the baby, they get so excited to give them to the baby 

-Her room is filled with toys from them and she is literally still an infant lmao 

-OH AND TOMMY AS AN UNCLE(??) luckiest kid ever 

-You both do farm work with the baby or one of you does farm work while the other keeps the baby from crying 

-You guys won’t force your baby to play with barbies if she doesn’t want to 

-but when she gets old enough ellie plans on taking her out in the city for practice of killing infected 

-That scares you but your award you both have to prepare her for anything that happens 

-But besides that y’all are the cutest parents and ellie deserves to be happy with her daughter :)

-

-

-

(Credits to gif owner) 

[moonshine-dan]

Quick Bite (p.1)

Osamu x GN! Reader, 2.5 K

Warnings: Odaxelagnia (biting kink), explicit sexual situations, swearing

Kinks: Biting, dry humping/thigh riding, coming untouched, handjobs, praise

Synopsis: 100% Smut. You tell Osamu you have a certain kink. He explores it with you.

The way I'm such a whore for this man now 😔 @crocyoota i blame you for making me a full time Osamu simp. Also thanks for beta-ing exactly one line of this lmao

Osamu's mouth closed over the pulse point at the base of your neck. Softly, he mouthed the skin there, warm lips feathering over your taut muscles stretched in anticipation of his next move.

He had you in his lap, palms smoothing circles along the outside of your hips and sweeping up to clutch your ass. Long fingers pressed softly into you, pressing tiny patterns into your flesh. He mouthed your neck tenderly, traveling languidly up your throat, dragging his soft lips along your jugular before arriving just below your jaw. Another soft kiss there, just a touch more intent than before. You shivered, hands roaming his chest and winding into his hair.

He was teasing you, intentionally or not. Your early morning makeout session before you both had to work usually involved more tongue than this, but you had recently told him about how sensitive your neck was and how you wanted him to try marking you sometime. Of course he was going to take his time and work you out, to memorize what made you moan the most so he could do it better next time. He never half-assed anything, but fuck if you didn't want him to go faster.

Osamu is oblivious to your desires. He continues to graze his lips down the opposite side of your neck, starting again as he reaches your collarbone. He was pressing just a touch harder now, contact a little rougher as he mouthed your throat. You shift slightly, your pulse jumping as he finally introduced his tongue. He lapped at your clavicle, licking his way back up yet again to meet your jaw. ah. You can't help but sigh and tug at his roots as the muscle traces a path below your ear, the spit cooling and making your skin impossibly more sensitive.

He stays there, pressing light kisses to the tender skin and tracing shapes with his tongue. You're tingling, already a little lightheaded from all the light touches. He brands another shape to your skin. A triangle? He's made that shape a few times, but now he's adding…. No. He's drawing a tiny Onigiri on you with his tongue, the pattern unmistakable. You drop your hands from his hair and start to say something, but Osamu was waiting for you to figure it out- he was ready, cutting you off by mouthing the same spot and sucking.

And oh, how you had been wanting this.

A pleasant buzz is building in the base of your skull. When Osamu sucks down, lips working into your neck, it builds a little more, fuzzes the edge of your vision and radiates down to your fingers. You flick them idly, remembering belatedly that you had a perfectly hot boyfriend to be groping. Sliding under his arms, you reach his back and massage the muscles there with your fingertips. His skin is golden under yours, hot and receptive to your touch. 'Samu grunts in appreciation at the attention, the vibrations adding to the suction he's applying to your neck. ghh.

He continues, mouth open and tongue flicking as he slides over your throat to catch up on the other side of your neck.

You push into his lap further unconsciously. Heavy hands on your hips stabilize you, one leaving to snake up your spine and grab at the hair at the back of your head. He grips sturdily and eases your head to the side for easier access to your neck. The buzzing in your skull gets louder still.

You're rocking slightly now, thighs flexing as you ache for something more. The hand on your waist grips tighter, trying to still you as Osamu worked his lips over a spot he had bullied before, suctioning up and scraping his teeth over the heated skin. "Hahh… Osamu..." You groan into your shoulder, his mouth pressing into the skin he had just abused, pulling it right back into his mouth with an obscenely wet sound.

The necking has all your blood rushing straight south, emptying your brain of any thoughts besides rutting into him. Everything he does, the way his tongue teased your sensitive skin, to the bruising pressure of his lips that brought the wet heat of his mouth to you: all of it drives you out of control.

He released his lips with a wet pop! and sighs lightly, the cool breath flowing over the heat from your overworked neck causing you to jerk into his lap further. You feel the rumble of his chest before his deep baritone reaches your ears-

“Quit squirmin’.”

He finishes his command by leaning in and biting down on the bruising skin he had just pulled away from.

The moan shocks one of you more than the other. The bite has the opposite effect Osamu wanted, sending you rocking further into his lap. Your hips cant up, mouth slack and eyes half-lidded, pulse throbbing where his teeth had made light intentions in your skin. You know what? Fuck it. You had time before work, and Osamu clearly underestimated how into this you’d be. You grind down onto him again, angling for his half-erect cock.

"Please, Osamu," you pant out, practically begging, "do that again."

You can feel his dick twitch in interest at your words. His grip on your ass becomes bruising as his fingers knead into you intently. He leads your head up to meet his, observing the way your face flushed darker, pupils blown so wide you could barely see the iris.

"You're really into this, huh."

He was nosing into your neck, breath ghosting over the fresh bite and driving you crazy. Yes. Was your request not enough? You hoped he wouldn't make you actually beg. The hand on your ass squeezes, making you squeak. It quickly changes to a moan as he bites again at the thin skin below your ear.

"I'm kinda startin' to see the appeal m'self…"

He shifts minutely. From below, you feel his erection, solid. Throbbing. Fuck, finally. You grind into his length and finally hear him groan. The sound makes you push down harder, eager to hear what other sounds you could pull from your boyfriend.

You snap your hands to his waist, bracing yourself as you fling a leg over his thigh to push your own into his cock. Osamu's grinding into you eagerly now, groaning, friction mutually given between you both. His hands find your sides and he splays his fingers, rubbing lines up the planes of your ribcage. Every tense of muscle creates a delicious pressure that's building in your core alongside the buzz in your skull.

He slides his hands over your chest, cupping you with both hands and squeezing before joining with his mouth, kissing your sternum. He brings one of your arms to his mouth, kissing the underside of your wrist tenderly. His teeth press in lightly as he swipes his tongue over the tendons. Your pulse thrums, electric.

The tension in the air changes subtly, stilling you for a moment. Osamu peers up at you with a discerning gaze. You met his eyes, mildly concerned at the sudden shift in mood. What was he looking for?

"You're so sweet, darlin'. So sweet to me. Think I'm gonna call you melonpan from now on."

His eyes are teasing. Your ears are burning. This asshole did not just call you fucking melonpan.

He catches your eyes and wrinkles his brow, cheeky grin splitting his face as he took your expression in. He just wanted to see you blush. fucker, you think, cheeks flaming. It worked.

His eyes sharpen with a predatory look.

"I wasn't a hundred percent honest, babe. I'm sorry. It's actually because I wanna sink my teeth into you."

True to his words, he bites into your neck, targeting the hickey that was developing.

Oh. Oh. Maybe the nickname was ok, actually.

Your breath and your thoughts quickly leave you. It's impossible to talk, to even think, mind too focused on the sensation of Osamu sucking the bruising bite on your neck.

This is what you had wanted, but you hadn't expected it to feel quite this… debilitating. The pleasure crossed with the pain in a way you could only describe as delicious, your nerves alright with conflicting signals. Your brain, quite literally, did not know how to process it. The result was the ever-encompassing buzz that was spreading from your skull to the rest of your body.

Ghhh, is what you manage to verbalize.

Osamu hasn't stopped, teeth finding old marks to push into, sucking and rolling the skin and muscle of your neck to the point of bruising. He brands new ones where he hasn't, leaving a patchwork pattern of hickies like a collar for anyone to see.

His tongue swipes along your heated skin, the wet heat soothing where he had previously teased. He grinds into your shaking leg, precome smoothing the friction as he ruts into your thigh. You're shaking, and he knows you're close, even without his hands or his cock. To see you coming undone with nothing but his mouth and his thigh? christ. Osamu's head isn't as big as his brother's, but it's almost enough to make him cum right there.

He's eager to see what pushes you over the edge.

"You're doing so good, baby, fuck," Osamu says into your neck, sucking loudly at the skin. "So fucking sweet, baby….. skin's so fucking sweet….." he bites down, hard, at the base of your neck and feels how your body freezes, every muscle tightening, tremulous. He chews, rolling the muscle under the skin as you cry out his name.

"hah, god, Osamu….!"

Your vision blurs, whitening around the edge. Your body is locking and you suck in a deep breath involuntarily. Is this a stroke? Are you dying? You've never felt this kind of brain failure during sex before. Oh my god, oh my god, fuck…!

Your release hits like lightning straight to your core. Your abdominals tightened, the buzzing in your skull intensifying and pulsing as it races through you. You arch backwards, tensing, eyes rolled back and grinding against his thigh. You shake as the sensation passes through you like an electric current, your body locking up in tension and pleasure simultaneously. Holy shit. Coming has never felt quite like this before, numbing you just as much as it brought you to ecstasy. You can't hear anything but the blood rushing in your ears as your muscles throb, your whole body tightening and relaxing, leaving your muscles burning deliciously as the buzzing finally begins to fade.

Your forehead thunks against his shoulder as you go boneless in his arms. Distantly, you think your legs are shaking.

Holy shit.

He didn't even touch you.

You need a minute to catch your breath.

Before you can though, Osamu is pushing you backwards. You hit the covers with a muffled thwump and he’s above you before you can blink, leaning into your space on his left arm as the other reaches down to stroke his cock.

"Y’can’t just give me a show like that, baby, what'd I do to deserve it?"

He drops his head to your chest and licks along your clavicle before drifting lower and sucking a hickey onto your chest. His right hand speeds up, pumping faster as he marks your chest again and again. His mouth finds a nipple and rolls it with his mouth, scraping it roughly with his teeth and sucking hard, making you jerk up from the bed slightly. It's almost too much, creeping up fast on overstimulation, but you focus. You still haven't gotten your mind one hundred percent back online from your previous climax, but you manage to reach down to cup his balls and tug gently.

Osamu's head lolls to the side and he groans. This close, you can see the sweat beading at his temples. Squeezing lightly and rolling your palm, you tug again, tapping your fingers lightly across the back. His hips snap forward fervently, your touch finally pushing him over the edge. "Comin'...!"

His words cut off into a low groan as he comes undone above you, hips stuttering, fucking into his fist. Osamu angles his cock down at you as he climaxes, hot ropes of his cum painting your stomach white. You dimly think that he's now marked you two entirely different ways.

A hand at your cheek makes you look back up. Osamu's looking at you with an emotion in his eyes that defies description. He leans down to catch your lips in a chaste kiss, thumb swiping up to catch the tear handing onto your cheek. Huh. You hadn't even realized you'd been crying. The hand retracts, and Osamu pulls away and drops to the bed.

He has enough of a mind not to flop down into the mess he just made, instead falling to your side with a sigh, eyes shut and thoroughly blissed out. He squirms until hes slotted next to you, one arm thrown across your chest. His breath puffs into your hair and tickles your ear. Your eyes slip shut as well.

...

You're content to lay there for hours, but the cooling jizz on your abdomen eventually incentivises you to get up. You untangle yourself from Osamu and push to the edge of the bed. Looking for all the world like a newborn deer, you wobble on unsteady legs to the bathroom in search of a warm washcloth.

Osamu's peace is short lived, eyes flying open at your shout:

"Fucks sake, Osamu! We have to open in an hour! How am I gonna work front of house looking like this?" You emerge from the bathroom, now clean of cum but covered in bruises of varying darkness from the neck down.

He blinks owlishly before shuttering his eyes and smirking.

"You literally asked me to do that, baby. Said 'please' an' everything."

You have no response. He's completely right, and that only makes you angrier. You toss the washcloth at his dick and tell him to get cleaned up.

…

You both make it to Onigiri Miya with minimal issues after that. Unfortunately for you, the summer heat prevented you from wearing anything that could come close to covering up the hickies above your collar. And when more socially oblivious customers would ask what happened to you, your response was to point a finger at an unusually smug-looking Osamu.

"Ask him."

Fortunately for everyone, none of them felt the need to actually ask him.

You were gonna get his ass back so bad.

[princess-of-inarizaki]

Hello, Can i have a Nekoma, Seijoh and Inarizaki with a reader. She is a analysis specialist and very knowledge about herb, she know how to make medicine and help a person who get injure, disease, sickness and. She is very short (about 4'8 ;-;) and very caring, rarely smile and talk. But she will softly smile and talk to calm person down when they get hurt or panic. Her smile make their day : ❤️💞💓 She help the coach when they have a headache, backache. She literally the school doctor lmao uwu

Hello cutie !! Thank you for the request <3 this is so precious, she seems like this adorable little doctor-chan, and I'd be delighted to write a headcanon for you.

Doctor-chan manager

Characters: Nekoma team, Seijoh team, and Inarizaki team.

Warnings: none <3

Nekoma

So the team hasn't seen you around in school, because you're always in specialised classes that help advance your talents. You're also almost always in the nurses' office, tending to injured and sick patients better than the nurse does.

The students who come in trust you completely, because you have always helped them relieve their pain with your gentle touch and wide array of herbs and natural remedies.

One day, as you are silently applying a balm to the injury of a student, he softly asks if you would be the manager of the volleyball team he's part of.

“they get hurt very easily, and it happens pretty often too. In fact, I think we have two members who are still injured, but their pride just won't allow them to seek help for it.”

You study the boy, who speaks in a soft monotonous tone, with his cat-like eyes and long hair.

You're also weighing the pros and cons of joining the team. Because you're very soft spoken and quiet, rarely showing emotion,it takes longer for people to warm up to you.

But on the other hand, you just couldn't stand to see people getting hurt, especially after knowing you had the power to save them with your talents.

You quietly nod at the boy, who later introduces himself as Kozume Kenma.

He leads you to the gym, where the team was practicing, and when they see this small, adorable girl walking behind Kenma, looking so shy and cute, they just stop practicing.

“are you kenma's girlfriend?” is the phrase you hear most of, until Kuroo, the captain, calms them down.

You quietly explain that you are not kenma's girlfriend, and that you'll be their new manager.

Your eyes swept the team when it fell on Yaku. You wordlessly walked over to him, and gently pressed a small bundle of peppermint leaves to his palm.

“to aid your headaches”, you said softly.

The team was in awe. How could you have known Yaku had headaches, and more importantly, how to cure it?

Kenma smiled, proud to find a great manager for the team, as the rest of the team bowed to you, and made your acquaintance.

They recognised that you didn't like talking or showing expressions, but they were okay with that, since Kenma was the same.

Speaking of which, you get along best with Kenma, because both of you are silent characters, who enjoy the comfort in each other's silence.

But the whole team are all very gentle with you, coming to you anytime they feel discomfort, or face an injury during practice matches.

And every time, you treat them with the bag of herbs you bring with you, and your gentle touch. It soothes and calms them, to have you care for them with such gentleness and love.

Instead of calling you "manager-chan", they call you "doctor-chan", which soars your spirits, because you've always dreamt of becoming a doctor someday.

You smile, the first time Kuroo calls you that, and the team just melts on the spot.

Their adorable, small manager is smiling, her eyes crinkling at the corners, and her cheeks rosy and red. They silently swear that they will play harder than before, and win just for her.

Just to see one of her rare smiles again.

Seijoh

It's Akira who suggests you join the team

After noticing how you excel in biology class, he generally wants to know what you want to be in the future, and you shyly say "a doctor". This causes him to realise you might be able to practice on his volleyball team first.

“we're always getting hurt, and who knows? you might be able to polish your skills faster.”

You think about it carefully before nodding, holding your bag of herbs and natural remedies closer to you.

This was the start of a new journey with new people, and even though you weren't all that good in social situations, you'd try, so that someday your dream would be realised.

When you meet the team in the gym, Oikawa's eyes light up when he sees you. “hey there little cutie. Who are you?”

You're flustered, but remain expressionless. “I'm the new manager, Oikawa-san”

Oikawa is delighted at the prospect of having such a cute manager, but his thoughts are shattered as Iwaizumi spikes a ball to the back of his head.

“don't scare her off or flirt with her, shittykawa”

The team apologize for their captain, and respectfully bow and introduce themselves. You do the same, and as you look down, your eyes rest on Oikawa's knee.

It must hurt really badly, you thought.

After practice is over, you motion for Oikawa to follow you to the bench at the back of the gym. He happily does so, teasing you in the process, only to be met with silence on your part.

After he's seated, you gently undo his knee pad to find bandages beneath it.

Oikawa goes quiet, wondering how you knew. His teasing tone from earlier is fine, replaced with an anxious expression.

You gently wipe aloe mixture on his knee, and rebandage the area, being delicate and careful.

“please take care of yourself, Oikawa-san.” is all you say to him after nodding and walking off. He is touched by your kindness, and impressed by your observance, and expertise at easing his pain.

The rest of the team also experience similar encounters, where you'd take them to the bench at the back of the gym if you ever observe them facing discomfort during practice.

The team always know that the moment they're on the bench with you tending to them, all their discomfort will be eased, and their worries will disappear.

They associate you with a sense of comfort and familiarity, and love how you always seem to know what's the right thing to do.

You have a calming affect on all the members, especially Iwaizumi and Kyotani.

The team want to express their gratitude for all you've done for them, so they search high and low for a book on herbs that you might like, and gift it to you as a thank-you gift.

They will never forget the way you smiled at them, realising it's the first time they've made you smile, and thank you wholeheartedly for being their precious manager doc.

[I don't know if it's canon that Oikawa has a knee injury, but I thought it would be fine to add it into my writing, since it fits the prompt quite well]

Inarizaki

You would be quietly researching herbs and spices in the school garden, when you come face to face with Kita Shinsuke, captain of the school's volleyball team.

He's surprised to see you there, because students aren't usually interested in plants, so he strikes up a conversation with you.

You tell him that you're a specialist at easing pains and injuries with the help of natural remedies.

Kita is extremely impressed, and invites you to be the team manager, where you might be able to further polish your skills, and you readily accept the sensible captain's invitation.

The next day, you follow Kita to the gym, where the team immediately takes a liking to you because you're so small and lovely.

Atsumu ruffles your hair immediately and introduces himself, whilst Osamu nods at you with a small smile.

Suna compliments you, telling you that you have a nice calming smell to your presence, which leads you to unveil your bag, filled with herbs.

Kita explains your talents to the rest of the team, and you do a small demonstration by applying a homemade rosemary, orange and lemon balm on the wrists of the team.

You quietly explain that it would help with their concentration, and true enough, their performance rate increases during the practice session, leaving them feeling revitalised and energised.

They think of you as the ideal manager, and are all very attentive to your needs. They don't think it's fair if it's only you looking out for them and tending to them, and therefore are always observant of you.

Atsumu once notices that the day is colder than usual and drapes his volleyball jacket on your shoulders, engulfing your small frame.

The rest of the team stop to look at you, and their hearts are so warm, they can't help it. The sight of you in their volleyball team's huge jacket is way too adorable.

You give it back to Atsumu at the end of practice, and he's delighted to find his jacket smelling like the mixture of herbs you always smelled like.

The team then start borrowing you stuff often too, because they love it when you return it to them and leave it smelling warm and comforting, exactly like you.

They also know that you don't show your expressions on your face, so it's hard to gauge how you're feeling, but after time and experience, they are able to understand your feelings better, eventhough you don't show it on your face.

You are a lifesaver in their matches, and one instance is when you were able to rid Aran of his muscle cramps, allowing him to make the winning spike.

Atsumu hoists you on his shoulders when they win, and despite all the commotion and excitement, they look up to see you smiling, your eyes shining and small laughs coming out of your mouth silently.

You couldn't help it, they were all just too precious to you.

The team almost sheds a tear after seeing you with that expression of pure joy on your face, and they ruffle your hair gently, thanking you for always being by their side and constantly being a driving force for their achievements.

Kita states that the best choice he's ever made was inviting you to become manager.

You smile softly once again, and retort back in your head that agreeing was your best decision.

Hello hello! I hope that was good. It's one of the softest manager headcanons I've written in quite a while, since I was trying a new style, and I absolutely love it :))

Taglist<3 @k-sakusa-old @osamusriceballs

[bratkook]

one chance. (m) knj. teaser.

pairing. flash!namjoon x reader genre. fluff, angst, smut, superhero!au word count. approx 20k warnings. light hearted, some fighting (not graphic), mentions of character death (also not graphic...or permanent), mutual pining, namjoon is an adorably sweet dork !! smut: tbd as i write! but ofc filthy summary. namjoon knows he only has one chance to go back and make things right, but is he prepared to live with the potential consequences that his actions could cause? note. this was going to be part of a bts super hero collab that fell through (& i hope the author’s involved still post their fics) i’m about halfway through writing it and hope this will give me the motivation to finish it lmao. i might do a tag list if anyone is interested?? lmk muah.

The searing pain is felt before Namjoon even hits the floor, shooting down his fingertips when he attempts to move them, making his shoulder ache with each breath he takes. The plastic drums he had just collided into—an impact at a speed they weren’t designed to withhold—lay tattered in bits and chunks all around him, cold water that would typically be held inside them now spilled out and soaking into his suit. 

A hiss escapes his lips as he remains on the wet floor, already hearing the rushing footsteps approaching him. “It’s broken!” he shouts out, wincing when he once again attempts to move his arm. “Why isn’t it healing if it’s broken?”

When you and Hoseok finally reach him, you breathe a sigh of relief. From the absolute chaos his crash had caused, you were expecting to see him a lot more battered and bruised. Instead he lay on his side, hand gently cradling his aching shoulder with a grimace on his face. 

“Holy shit, that was awesome.” Hoseok barely spares a glance at Namjoon, overstepping him to assess the damage caused, tapping away at the screen of his tablet as he does so, checking the speed data he had captured. 

“You told me these would hold,” Namjoon grumbles, foot kicking a nearby scrap of plastic, another groan leaving him when his shoulder throbs. 

“That was just a guess.” Hoseok brushes him off, continuing to type away as he circles the crash scene. He only approaches Namjoon to pluck the Go-pro off his head, pocketing it with a sheepish smile on his face. 

With a subtle eye roll, you’re crouching down to meet Namjoon’s body, hands gently reaching out to see what the problem was. He lets his hand fall from it’s protective position, eyes squeezing shut as he waits for the burst of pain to come, jaw clenching when your fingers press along his shoulder, clearly feeling the way it had popped out of place. 

“It’s not healing because it’s not broken.” Namjoon finally opens his eyes now, peering up at you and gulping when he realizes just how close you are. He can clearly see the worry in your eyes as you try to see just how bad it is, a crease between your brows that he wants to rub out with the pad of his thumb, small frown on your lips that only makes him feel worse for going against your warning of this being a bad idea. 

A small huff spills from your lips once you realize you won’t be able to help him until you’re back at the lab without this suit—a suit that Hoseok calls his pride and joy—covering him up. “It’s dislocated. You probably tore some ligaments and tendons, but those will heal up just fine once we pop it back into place.”

“Wait, is that gonna hurt?” he whines out, huffing out the strands of his brown hair that had fallen over his face and gasping in pain when you purposely prod at the swollen joint with a small glare. 

“I’ll make sure it does so you remember to never go against my warnings.”

“Oh god, you’re doing this on purpose!” Namjoon yells, sat on the cold chair, knees pulled up as he braces for the pain. 

“I told you I was,” you smirk, extending his arm out, hands placed against his palm with the other on his trap muscle to get a good grip. The loose threads of his suit tickle his skin, a product of you cutting the fabric to double check that the only thing wrong was in fact his dislocated shoulder. 

Did you actually have to cut it? No. This was just your childish way of getting back at Hoseok for convincing Namjoon to do this. 

The grimace never leaves his face as you stretch the limb out, twisting it slowly to the right angle before pulling back with a slight pop once it settles back into its rightful spot. 

He feels the relief instantly, tense muscles relaxing as he sags back into the chair, face no longer contorted in pain when you gently lower his arm. Namjoon swears he’s never felt better, already able to lift his arms as if nothing ever happened, the torn tendons quickly repaired and back to normal thanks to his regenerative ability.  

“Good to go. If you pop it out of place again you’re gonna have to do it yourself.”

“Yeah right. I’ll just have Hoseok do it for me.”

Right on cue, a crash sounds out behind you, followed by a shout and an apology as Hoseok picks up whatever gadget he was currently working on. 

“You sure about that?” you question with a smug smile, crossing your arms under your chest as you step back. As smart and helpful as Hoseok was, his mind was far too focused on the technology surrounding him. If Namjoon seriously injured himself, the only person who would know what to do, was you. 

He knew this, and sometimes he liked that fact, not opposed to the way you’d constantly worry about him—totally choosing to ignore the reason why you did so was because it was your job. That tiny factor in the equation was tucked into the back of his mind. His small crush was innocent, and if looking forward to seeing what color lipstick you’d wear that day helped him deal with getting poked, questioned, and forced to run on a treadmill to document his speed, then that's fine by him. 

“I won’t dislocate my shoulder again. I promise.” 

Something about the smile on his face does nothing to ease your worry, and as Hoseok emerges from his room with a giddy laugh, you feel the need to pry. 

“What the hell were you trying to do anyway?”

“I think we’re close!” Hoseok announces, your question being brushed aside as he thrusts his tablet into Namjoon’s now fully mobile arms. The only thing lighting up the screen is a skew of numbers along with a diagram and some fancy looking animated figure that slightly resembled himself. It meant nothing to Namjoon so he doesn’t bother trying to decipher it, looking back up at Hoseok with a confused expression. 

“I don’t think me making those plastic drums explode got us any closer.” A small shiver courses through him as he recalls the pain from his shoulder once more. 

“Oh yeah, that was pointless. But I think I figured out another way.” Hoseok grabs the tablet once more, tapping a few more times before another animation fills the screen. Peering over his shoulder you spot what it is, a golden animation of what looks to be a treadmill, swirls flowing on either side of them that you believe to represent wind. 

“Another way for what?” You question again, not liking the sly look on Hoseok’s face. 

“Time travel.” He says it so casually, not even sparing you a glance as he flips the tablet over to show Namjoon. 

That wasn’t what you were expecting. When you had walked in on Hoseok pitching the idea to Namjoon, wanting to document his full speed, push it further to see what more he was capable of, you thought it was just to gather information to help when it came to figuring out a plan of action the next time a meta-human decided to torment the city. 

“Time travel?” you repeat, a displeased look on your face that Namjoon spots instantly. The small wrinkle between your brows is back and he can’t even allow himself to find it adorable because the small glare you were giving Hoseok changes course and stares directly at him. 

“Yeah,” he quietly admits, pressing his lips together gently. His saving grace comes in the form of his phone ringing loudly, cutting through the tense silence and making him jolt in his seat, hands fumbling for the device.

He has never been more thankful to get a call from work, your scolding being directed at Hoseok now, but Namjoon can hear it through his current conversation. The worried tone in your voice is clear as you question Hoseok’s sanity, stating how dangerous time travel could be in the grand scheme of things. Hoseok can only stumble over his words, flustered at being on the receiving end of your lecture. 

Namjoon ends the phone call right on time to hear you shout, “Are you trying to start World War three?!”

“I gotta go…” he whispers, slowly sliding off the chair trying to be as quiet as possible, hoping he wouldn’t be detected. But before he can flash out of there, you’re looking at him again. 

“Not so fast.” He freezes instantly, hands lifted up in front of him. “We’re not done talking about this—“

“I know, but I gotta go. I do have an actual job after all.”

Hoseok glares at Namjoon, “So you’re gonna leave me here to get yelled at...alone?”

Namjoon gives him a guilty smile, shrugging and mumbling out a quick apology before bolting out of there—literally. Your hair flows up at the speed, Hoseok’s shirt flapping wildly, and nearby documents scatter around from the gust of air he had caused. The only thing left behind is the red suit draped across the chair he had been sitting on, flashing out of it and into his regular clothes before leaving to work. 

“What was the Gopro for?” you question. As much as you didn’t like the idea of time travel, you were slightly curious about the entire situation. 

“Just thought it’d be sick to film it. Like imagine if it actually works and we have solid proof?” Hoseok’s eyes glimmer at the prospect of it all, tapping at the screen to replay the footage captured earlier. The two of you have front row seats of Namjoon’s earlier crash, and seeing the chaos along with hearing Namjoon’s grunts of pain a second time makes you glare at Hoseok once again. 

You reach forward and grab the discarded red suit from the chair, balling it up and tossing it at Hoseok’s face. “Patch it up. I had to rip the sleeve to properly see his shoulder.”

He whines loudly as he peels the material off of his face, fingers clutching the precious suit and gasping when he spots the torn area. “You monster!”