#was already lightheaded from feeling bad and now I’m even more lightheaded

[j00stkl31n]

Joost??!!!!

[reidology13]

meet me in the hallway - chapter one

Spencer Reid x fem victim!reader

cw: fluff, angst, attempted murder, drug use, drug addiction, hospitals, badly written withdrawal, bad parenting mention, gambling mention, set around season 4, that's it I think wc: 2.6k a/n: this is the first part of a fairly short series I have planned for the next while, hope you enjoy!

Chapter 2

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You registered the blood before you felt the pain. The beat of the music pumped the blood through your veins, sweat hanging in the air alongside the cloying scent of perfume.

You popped a pill into your mouth, unsure what it was or where it had come from, stumbling over to the bar for a shot of vodka to wash it down. You’d just made it to the bar when a man shoved past you, hitting you roughly in the torso. You could tell something was off by the way that the pressure lingered after he had walked away. Your hand reached for the feeling, trying to figure out what was causing it, and found an odd, slightly sticky liquid soaking your dress.

You cringed, pulling your hand back to look at it, expecting to see nothing, the clear remnants of a sugary cocktail spilt on your dress. Instead, you were faced with a darkness painting your palms, and even then it took you a moment to realise what it was, the coloured lights altering its appearance. When you did recognise it, the pain still lagged, and you wondered if the plethora of drugs in your system were acting as an anaesthetic. 

You stumbled outside, growing lightheaded from the blood loss, holding your hand over the wound to stifle the seemingly endless stream of blood that flowed between your fingers. You flipped open your phone, about to call 911, when, finally, the pain hit. Something between the blood loss, the drugs, and the excruciating pain you were in sent your head spinning towards the ground, and the last thing you remembered before you passed out was the thought that you were never going to wake up.

.*☆¸•

You did, however, and when you regained consciousness, you were lying down in a hospital bed, the sharp, sanitised smell instantly recognisable. You had spent enough early mornings recovering from exceptionally dangerous highs to know your way around most of the hospitals in the Upper East Side with your eyes closed. Which, at the time, they were. When you did open them, you regretted it immediately, squinting against the blinding whiteness of the room in an attempt to see your surroundings. There was someone sitting next to your bed, a blurry figure that you were sure you had never seen before. You blinked repeatedly until your vision cleared slightly, and you were faced with a greasy mop of hair, underneath which might have been a man.

“You’re awake.” He sounded too relieved to be a stranger, and you momentarily questioned if you were suffering from amnesia. Then you saw the badge attached to his belt, which made a lot more sense as a reason to be invested in your wellbeing.

“What happened?” You rubbed at your eyes with a shaking hand, trying to ward off the headache that was already forming in the harsh light. You were surprised by how fine you felt, given the fact that your most recent memory was of being covered in blood. 

“Well, you were stabbed two days ago by a serial killer. You’re lucky, he’d been shooting his victims until now. He needed to be closer to his victims, and he made a mistake.” The man leaned towards you, his features growing clearer with proximity.

“Oh. Who are you?” You weren't quite prepared to process just how close to death you had really been just yet. Changing the topic seemed to be the only way to postpone the impending interview that would force you to face it.

“Doctor Spencer Reid, I’m with the FBI.” The way his voice went up as he spoke was a little bit annoying, and wasn’t doing anything to help the steady throbbing in your skull. Scratch your original plan of postponing the serious talk, you wanted to get everything over and done with as fast as possible so that you could get some rest.

“Well, I didn’t really notice at first, he knocked into me. I didn’t feel any pain ‘cause, fuck-” You groaned, a painful shiver running down your spine.

“Yes, they found GHB, cocaine, methamphetamines, and alcohol in your system. That pain you're feeling right now is withdrawal, something I’m guessing you haven’t felt before.” Despite his words, his voice carried none of the sympathy or disgust you would have suspected from someone like him. It didn’t feel like a judgement, but an acknowledgement of how hard it was: it was understanding.

“That… that makes sense.” Your thoughts were foggy, stopping just before they were fully formed, leaving incomplete puzzles with a single piece missing, words without any vowels. Enough that everything you said or felt was left wanting.

“Since you’re the only person so far to survive him, you’re the best witness we have. You’re also the most at risk.” He paused, and you took the chance to butt in, asking the question that seemed the most pertinent before you could forget it.

“What do you mean, ‘at risk’?” You grumbled, the roughness of your voice doing its best to cover up the genuine curiosity in your tone. This was a negotiation, no matter what he said, and you knew negotiations. If your father had taught you one good thing, it was that you never showed anyone your hand. Technically, at the time that hadn’t been metaphorical, he had been teaching you how to play poker at the ripe age of six.

“There’s a fairly significant chance that he’ll come back, try and finish the job. If he finds out you’re still alive, that is.” He said it like it wasn’t anything at all, like it wasn’t the most terrifying thing you had ever been told, just common sense. To him, you supposed it was.

“He’s going to try and kill me again?” There went keeping your cards to your chest. Whose voice was going up now, huh? To be fair, he hadn’t just been told that he was the target of a serial killer who had just landed him in the hospital by stabbing him.

“If you’re willing to do exactly what I say, then no.” His tone had gained a seriousness that it had been lacking before, and maybe that was what had been annoying you, because it was suddenly mostly bearable.

“And so, your plan is for us to…” You trailed off, painfully aware of your loss of footing in the conversation. Again, only one of you was coming down from a high while also healing from a stab wound, and you felt that it was deeply unfair of him to use your circumstances to his advantage.

“You and I would stay in an FBI safe house, working on the case and reporting any breakthroughs back to my team until they find and arrest him.”

“Safe house?” You baulked, “Like, stuck inside with you all of the time, no going out, no fun? That kind of safe house?” The thought of it sent a shiver of anxiety and apprehension through you. For one, you didn’t know this man, and you would be locked in a small space with him for who knew how long, you could only imagine all of the gross habits he had. He probably didn’t wash his hands after going to the toilet.

To be completely fair, you had snorted coke off of a public toilet roll holder before, so you couldn’t really judge him when it came to hygiene. That brought you to your second problem with the propositioned arrangement: any time spent in the safe house was time where you would be fully, stone-cold, sober. It wasn’t a feeling you were particularly accustomed with, nor was it one you wanted to be.

“If by ‘fun,’ you mean what I think you mean, then yes. Personally, I’m sure that we, if you agree to help, will have plenty of fun while we’re there. More importantly, I’m sure we will solve the case.” He spoke like he was trying to sell you something, like you really had a choice at all in the matter. Death or time in a house with some guy. The answer was pretty straight forward.

“Okay, fine, I’ll be your witness.” You conceded, hoping that your agreement would be enough to make him go away for a while. If you were going to spend the next however long with him, you would like to take the short span of time you had as a free woman and keep it to yourself.

He did, standing up and silently leaving the room, as well as you to your own thoughts. You hoped that they would report you as dead on the news, that they wouldn’t tell your parents what was going on. A little bit because you wanted to scare them, make them care about you for a moment. Mostly because it sounded fucking hilarious.

.*☆¸•

You didn’t have to wait long for your answer, depending on what we’re going to consider a long period of time. It was only a few days that you spent in the hospital, but they were painful, and to be completely honest, fucking terrifying. It was like a four day fever, but with added muscle spasms, constant paranoia, and anxiety unlike anything you’d ever felt before. No matter how stretched out those days felt, the moment the time came to leave, it felt as though you’d only been given a few minutes to prepare yourself mentally. Spencer walked into your room on the third day, bringing with him two other people, one was a man you had never seen before, while the other was a woman you’d seen outside your room on your first day at the hospital. Well, technically, your third. Spencer introduced you, although you were sure they both already knew your name, and probably all of your darkest secrets. Then he turned back to you, gesturing to the duo as he introduced them.

“This is Aaron Hotchner and Jennifer Jareau. They’ll be our point of contact while we work on your case.” Aaron nodded simply, and Jennifer offered a wave alongside a short greeting.

“Hi.” You waved back weakly, your arm aching with the movement. Jennifer gave you a kind, if not slightly pitying, smile as you dropped your arm with a wince. She seemed nice, but you were glad that it wasn’t her you were sharing the safe house with.

“Call me JJ, I’m the media liaison with the BAU, so I’ll be in charge of keeping the media from endangering you by reporting your survival.” She took a few steps forward, standing directly in front of you, and you could tell she was expecting you to ask questions. Luckily for her, you actually had one.

“What will my parents get told?” You tried not to sound too anxious for an answer, knowing that she would assume you wanted them told the truth of your circumstances.

“Due to the fact that you're not a minor, we have no legal reason to tell them. So unless there are any extenuating circumstances we’re unaware of, they will be told that you are dead. I know that might be hard for-” You cut her off before she could continue to believe that either party cared about the situation.

“Good, I don’t want them to know.” You spoke bluntly, a clear statement, leaving no room for questions or misunderstandings. JJ stepped back, taking your words as her sign to leave.

The man didn’t speak, simply standing beside Spencer as the number of people in the room dropped from four to three. There was silence for a while, none of you willing to speak and break it. Eventually, Spencer must have decided it had been long enough, clearing his throat in that pointed way people think is subtle, and glanced over at the man – Agent Hotchner, you reminded yourself. 

“We’ll check in on you via phone calls regularly, so that you can update us on the case and tell us what you need delivered to the safe house.” Spencer had already told you that, but you didn’t say anything, just nodding and thanking him, “Please write down a list of things you want to be moved to the safe house from your apartment.” He handed you a notepad, along with a pencil, and you wrote down all of the basics you could think of, as well as a few less necessary items—well, that depends on the definition of ‘necessary’ we’re using, you value your sanity—including makeup, your violin, books, and a few other hobbies. You gave him the notepad back, before grabbing it again, scribbling down to include your iPod and your headphones. He looked over it, nodded, and walked out of the room without another word. You liked him.

When it was just Spencer and you left in the room, he came and sat on the edge of the bed, smiling at you softly.

“How are you? You look a bit better than you have for the past few days.” He was being ridiculously nice and understanding, just like he had been since you’d woken up in the hospital. It made you feel even more guilty for yelling at him the day before when he had come into your room and asked how you were doing. You’d thought it was pretty obvious that the answer was ‘not good’ and made sure to tell him just that, in probably the meanest way possible.

“Yeah, I feel better.” You gave him your weak attempt at a grin, accompanied by a small wince because your whole body ached, that muscle deep ache that sinks its claws into your soul just to ruin your day.

“Good.” He smiled, tight-lipped and stilted, the kind that never appeared on a red carpet or magazine cover, but now that you’d seen it, you decided it definitely needed to.

“When are we going to the safe house?” You kept your eyes on him, waiting for an answer as you pushed yourself up in the bed, sitting with a soft grunt. 

“It should be fully set up by now.” He tapped his fingers against the paper thin sheets as he spoke, the constant movement slightly distracting. “Hopefully we’ll be able to go tomorrow after your personal items are moved in.”

“Perfect, this hospital is so not hot.”

“They do have a very good air conditioning system.” You tried—and miserably failed—to hold back a very ungraceful laugh at his words, deciding quite quickly that this was going to be an entertaining few weeks, if nothing else.

“That’s not what I meant.” You winced at the soft pain that reverberated through you alongside your laughter.

“Oh, um, what did you mean?” He was completely oblivious, and seemed rather embarrassed about the fact, you couldn’t help but attempt to comfort him.

“It means, like, something is bad. ‘Hot’ means it’s cool.” You figured any mentions of Paris Hilton would only further confuse him, given how pop culture blind he clearly was.

“Um, okay.” He gave you that awkward smile, waving as he stumbled towards the exit of the room. He looked like he was fairly used to not being in the know, and like that was something he was judged for fairly frequently. You felt a little bad, but more than anything you wanted to be alone, the headache from the previous days creeping back in. So you settled for just being as nice to him as you could, and letting him leave.

“See you tomorrow?” You smiled softly at the sweet face he made, halting on his way out the door to speak again, tucking a loose strand of hair behind his ear.

“See you.”

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tysm for reading!!

Tags: @reidmoony-toast - Comment to be added <3

[ilwonuu]

hi mari sweetheart

i can't get my mind off that sweetie pie han!

do you mind writing a dom jisung x f reader smut pls?

ty baby and I love you and bye bye

- a lovely soul 🍥

hi my lovee <33 u are just like me,,, i am always thinking of dom jisung tbh,,, of course heheheh. i love u moreee <3 ty for requesting!!!

𝖾𝖺𝗌𝖾

ೃ✧𝗁𝖺𝗇 𝗃𝗂𝗌𝗎𝗇𝗀

⚘ 𝗉𝖺𝗂𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀－ 𝖾𝗌𝗍𝖺𝖻𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗁𝖾𝖽 𝗋𝖾𝗅𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗉， 𝗇𝗈𝗇𝗂𝖽𝗈𝗅！𝗁𝖺𝗇 𝗑 𝖿𝖾𝗆！𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋， 𝖽𝗈𝗆！𝗁𝖺𝗇 𝗑 𝗌𝗎𝖻！𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋

⚘ 𝗐𝖺𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌－ 𝗌𝗆𝗎𝗍 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗉𝗅𝗈𝗍， 𝗎𝗇𝗉𝗋𝗈𝗍𝖾𝖼𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝗌𝖾𝗑 （𝖽𝗈𝗇’𝗍，，，） 𝖼𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗆𝗉𝗂𝖾（𝗒𝗎𝗆！）， 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝗂𝗌 𝖺 𝗐𝗁𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝗇𝗂𝖾 （𝗐𝗁𝗈 𝗂𝗌𝗇’𝗍），，，𝖽𝗂𝗋𝗍𝗒 𝗍𝖺𝗅𝗄 （𝗁𝖺𝗇𝗇𝗂𝖾 𝗂 𝗇𝖾𝖾𝖽 𝗎），，， 𝗍𝖾𝖺𝗌𝖾 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝗇𝗂𝖾<𝟥，𝗌𝗈𝗆𝖾 𝗉𝗋𝖺𝗂𝗌𝖾 𝗁𝖾𝗁𝖾，， 𝗄𝗂𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀， 𝗇𝖾𝖾𝖽𝗒 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋， 𝗉𝖾𝗍 𝗇𝖺𝗆𝖾𝗌 （𝖻𝖺𝖻𝗒， 𝗀𝗈𝗈𝖽 𝗀𝗂𝗋𝗅）， （𝗌𝗎𝗇𝗀𝗂𝖾， 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝗇𝗂𝖾）， 𝗅𝗆𝗄 𝗂𝖿 𝗂 𝗆𝗂𝗌𝗌𝖾𝖽 𝖺𝗇𝗒𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀<𝟥

⚘ 𝖺／𝗇－ 𝗁𝖾𝗁𝖾𝗁𝖾 𝗂 𝗁𝖺𝗏𝖾𝗇’𝗍 𝗐𝗋𝗂𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗇 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗁𝖺𝗇 𝗂𝗌 𝖺 𝖻𝗂𝗍，，， 𝗂 𝗆𝗂𝗌𝗌𝖾𝖽 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝖻𝖺𝖽𝗅𝗒． 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗂 𝗇𝖾𝖾𝖽 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝖡𝖠𝖣𝖫𝖸． 𝗌𝖾𝖽𝖺𝗍𝖾 𝗆𝖾． （𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝗉𝗋𝗈𝗈𝖿𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽）

jisung wasn’t doing it on purpose you were sure of it. he had that innocent smile planted across his face. his cheeks looks so cute but your can’t think anything “cute” when you look at your boyfriend right now.

him right after a workout always looked so good.. part of it could be that you were ovulating but even without ovulation you would be horny for him. the way he looked with his towel wrapped around his neck.

the sweaty strands of hair that are stuck to his head. you felt lightheaded while looking at him. your boyfriend greeted you sweetly.

“hi baby. what have you been doing?” he throws his towel into your laundry basket.

“nothing- missing you.” you signal for him to come to kiss you and he just laughs a little before making his way over to you.

“i’m all sweaty.” he says as he leans over you.

“i don’t care. you look sexy right now.” he laughs before leaning in to kiss you. he kisses you quick before pulling away.

“i need to shower baby- your gonna make me hard.” you just smirked as you grabbed his hand.

“good. that’s the goal.” you kissed him again and he responded back quickly. he was easily pleased with you.

“were you needy while i was gone?” he teased as he easily hovered over you now. you laughed a little as you nodded.

“need you to fuck me hannie.” he just pecked your lips.

“you couldn’t wait 30 minutes for my cock baby? i just got back.” he pretended to complain but you knew he didn’t really mind fucking you before showering. you took your clothes off under him to answer his question. leaving your boyfriend looking at you in awe.

“you need it that bad?” he tsks as he kisses your neck a couple times.

“so bad hannie. been thinking about it since you left.” you fake pout in hopes to get him to cave faster.

“oh yeah? who am i to keep you waiting baby.” he stripped himself aswell leaving you two naked next to each other. jisung spread your legs a little as you felt his fingers rub at your cunt. jisung’s breath was heavy against your neck as he rubbed your slit.

“i got you this wet already?” he collects your arousal onto his fingers with a smirk.

“mhm- hannie i need your cock.” he rubbed at your clit to pull moans from you.

“got to make sure i don’t hurt you first baby.” he knew that you have had sex without prep multiple times with him but he just wanted to tease you a little more. he fucked a finger into you quick. the sound of your arousal was loud and it had han smirking.

“i love you and your noisy cunt baby.” he whispered to you and it had you clenching around his finger. you leaned back to kiss him. the kiss got more rough the faster he finger fucked you. you pulled away as you felt his finger speed up.

“want to cum on your cock hannie.” you confess as you feel his finger slow down. he continues you to fuck his finger into you as he holds your waist.

“oh yeah? you think i should give it to you now? look so pretty like this.” he says into your skin but your can’t help but to feel impatient.

“just fuck me already.” he smiles into your neck as he pulls his finger from your cunt.

“i’ll give you what you want baby.” you felt his tip rub over your slit teasingly. the sudden feeling made jisung let out cute whimpers into your ear.

“put it in sungie.” you whined at him. you had enough of his teasingly and you just wanted him to fuck you with all his strength. your boyfriend laughed at you a little as you felt him start to push into you.

“how does that feel baby?” he asked as he stops half way.

“g-good please keep going. need it.” you say in a moan as you feel him bottom out before giving you shallow thrusts.

“w-wait i want to see you hannie.” your boyfriend grabs your leg and gets between them. he’s now hovering over you again. he is quick to start fucking you again. he grabs your thighs to hold your legs open.

“s-sungie- fuck.” your eyes are already rolling back in your head and he just started fucking you.

“keep saying my name baby. mmf-fuck just like that.” he loved the way you moved your hips to meet his thrust. he loved every single moan that left your lips. every noise making him hornier if that was even possible.

“my good girl. couldn’t wait for my cock huh? say it baby.” his thrusts were deep. he was taking his time to fuck you into the mattress.

“c-couldn’t wait for it- h-hannie.” he just smirked at you as he leaned down to peck your lips.

“yea? feels so fucking good.” his noises got more desperate the closer the two of you got.

“b-baby- i’m gonna cum for you. where do you want it?” he captures your lips quickly before waiting for your answer.

“inside h-hannie.” your brain goes crazy thinking about his cum inside you. jisung’s thrusts are hard and needy as you cum on his cock. your legs shaking as your climax washes over you.

“good girl. m-milking my cock.” the way he looked in this moment was insane. his head thrown back as his hips stutter. his blissed out face made you ready for another round. your mind filled with nothing but him as he came inside you.

his soft moans of your name and rambles of his dirty thoughts made you feel so good. hannie continued to fuck you through both of your highs. him becoming even sweatier now as he fell beside you.

both of you tired and panting. he kissed your head as he sat back up. you pretended to go back to sleep as you felt his gaze back over to you.

“baby- shower?” he asked you with a sweet smile.

“mhm let’s go- you almost put me to sleep.” you laughed at yourself as you forced yourself to get up. you were shocked at how tired you felt but one thing about your boyfriend is he knows how to fuck all your energy out of you.

tag list: @blackeyehuaaa @haechansbbg @sailor- -sun

(sorry if i couldn’t tag u)

lmk to be in my tag list<3

[g0g-urt]

Just Friends.. Nothing More

Warnings: none

Authors note: Not the best writer but im trying to contribute to the Carlos Alcaraz fics😵‍💫 (just something short to get back into writing)

The sun was setting at Juan Carlos Ferrero’s Tennis Academy, it was starting to get late and your practice was coming to an end.

As you were packing up and getting ready to head to your cottage at the academy, you see Carlos, your best friend who has been with you since the very start, maybe around the age of 8 or 9.

He approached you on the court next to his, his bags already on his shoulder, ready to head to his cottage for the night as well. “Preparándose para partir?” (Getting ready to leave?)

You turn your head to look at him, he’s always smiling, especially when he’s looking at you. You fit your rackets into your bag before saying, “Yeah I’m heading back to my cottage right now.”

————————

Both of you walk through the courts under the sunset and to the academy’s house complex. He keeps sneakily taking glances at you, thinking you wouldn’t notice. You can see him look at you for a quick second every minute or so. You take a closer look at his face and see a faint hint of red on his cheeks, you brush it off and blame it on the hot Spanish weather. Before you could enter your cottage, Carlos gently tugged at your shoulder and began talking.

“Soo.. tomorrow I don’t have practice or anything to do. Would you be down to go out?” He says while scratching the back of his neck, not able to keep eye contact. You smile at him and reply with a dry, “Sure.”

————————

The next day, it was time to go out with Carlos. You get dressed nicely, while constantly getting bombarded with Carlos’ texts. It’s become normal for you two to hangout regularly, but for some reason this felt different, and it wasn’t a good feeling. You felt uneasy even though you have done this atleast a hundred times.

You finished getting ready and both of you head out the academy, he’s dressed in his Louis Vuitton, and honestly it wasn’t as bad as you thought it would be since usually his fits from Louis Vuitton aren’t the best. As you reach the parking, he heads to the passenger side of the car. “Para ti, princesa” (For you, princess) he said with a wink while opening the door for you. You didn’t think much of this act, just a mere friendly act, right? You gave him a smile, attempting to be nice, but gosh… it felt weird. You don’t see him act like this, especially while you go out with him. It’s more playful, laidback instead of… well this.

He drives to the more popular area of the city, where it’s slightly more crowded with bustling noises and pretty lights. He makes sure to open the car door for you and helps you up out the car. He must’ve forgotten that he was probably the most famous Spanish athlete at the time and very known in Spain, because all his fans came with their cameras, crowding your way towards the usual cafe you go to. The crowd grew bigger and bigger. They began asking questions like, “Is she your new girlfriend?” “How did you feel during your last tournament?” “Are you in a relationship?” “How’s your injury?”. You felt yourself getting lightheaded, awful actually. You tried speaking with Carlos but there was no way he could hear you through all the noises. Carlos pulled you back in the car and he drove off somewhere nearby.

“You okay?” He grabbed your hand and looked into your eyes with a look of seriousness and concern.

You nodded back “Yeah… just a bit lightheaded that’s all.”

And that’s when you noticed his hand holding yours and you pulled away, which sparked confusion in Carlos.

“Maybe we could go to that other coffee place. The one Juanki mentioned, he said nobody went there so if you’re still down we could go?” Carlos asked which you nodded to.

He began driving while your thoughts were spiraling, what if his fans start posting rumors about you two? What if you get hate because of it this? What would his manager think? He would kill us… You didn’t like the idea about the things that could be posted because of this whole thing.

You arrive at the place and find an empty seat. It’s a nice cozy place with nobody besides you and Carlos. He orders your drinks and comes to sit in front of you.

“Are you sure you’re okay? You seem worried…” he reaches out again for your hand.

“It’s just I don’t want us to be some sort of rumored couple! It’s gonna be posted every where and I’m not looking forward to be answering everyone’s questions.” You explain your discomfort to Carlos, but he just sits there kind of unfazed.

“I mean… I wouldn’t mind.”

What? What did he just say? Is he okay? Is he being for real?

The questions whirl in your mind as you sit there shocked. Jaw hung open and you’re just staring at him. Is this what it really meant to him? Honestly going back it’s not too shocking based off his behavior, but really?

“W-what do you mean “I wouldn’t mind”?”

“Has it seriously not been obvious? I mean come on! This was supposed to be some date! And the way I act around you? How could you not tell?!”

You continue staring at him. You don’t think you’ve blinked for the past few minutes and you just want to disappear. So he really does like you. He’s pouring his heart out right now, but you’re zoned out trying to make sense of all this.

“I thought you liked me too, don’t you?” He continued while you finally came back to reality.

“Carlos. We’re friends and that’s all we’ll ever be.” You could see his heart break visibly on his face and his eyes began shining with tears. He got up and left without another word.

Was that really the right decision? You don’t really feel for him… but he’s so sweet and it feels wrong. You can see him drive away and now you’re overthinking it all.

[n0rmal-cat]

Doll streamer x fem reader- taking care of yourself

[fair warning before anyone reads this maybe don’t if you have a bad relationship with food or eating, just skip this one it will be fine trust me you don’t need to see it]

[also I don’t know if I did a good job writing this one so bear with me 😭]

“And that’s time! That’s for tooning in for my subathon it was a good run and I had a lot of fun with you guys, but now i'm gonna take a long nap haha, you guys have a good rest of the day” as reader ended her stream her smiled faded, she shut off her computer and started at her own reflection her face was droopy and energy drink were scattered around her desk.

She sighed as she spun around in her chair rubbing her eyes, her face felt now and her mind foggy.

She picked up the half empty can and drank the rest in one shot. The knocking on her apartment door caught her off guard and she started to cough.

She got up quickly from her chair reaching for the door “I’m coming hold-“ lightheaded took over her and her vision went dark.

She woke up with a gasp as she clenched her chest tightly breathing heavily, “what happened? Where…” they looked around the silent room, it was one they had come to know very well.

“Jasper?… how the hell did I get here?” They spoke to no one but herself, getting out of the plastic bed she made her way outside trying to look for the rival streamer.

“Oh you're awake, so now you can tell me why I found you passed out in your apartment” they looked down and reader sternly “oh wait I already know why, it’s because the last thing you had close to food was the chocolate bar”

Reader crossed their arms over their stomach, a pit forming already “I’m sorry…”

They let out a sigh “Reader, I’m not mad at you” they picked her up and brought her closer to their face “I’m upset that you weren’t taking care of yourself, especially when you know I would be here to help you” they sounded sad which made reader feel even more guilty.

“I know, I just wanted to give the viewers the best experience I could”

“Over your own health?”

No they were right…they curled up in his palm

“Your not streaming for the time being, if it’s gotten that bad then we seriously need to have some discussions” they pet readers head with their pointer finger

“Do you understand doll?”

She nodded “I understand….”

They smiled sadly “well don’t look so sad, we’re gonna figure this out it may take years-“

“Years?!”

“Well if it takes that long then yes, until we figure it out you’ll be staying with me”

“But what about my stream, my viewers!?”

“Well I guess they’ll just have to wait won’t they? In the meantime why don’t you tell me what you want to have for lunch”

[suhkusa]

!! tw: anxiety attack

“Y/N?”

The voice pulls you out from your thoughts. It’s Coach Foster. You realize you haven’t paid attention to the past couple of points. 

You’re going to get in trouble.

You feel lightheaded as you grip tighter onto your pen, watching the match and continuing to jot down notes for the coach. You don’t know how many notes he’s expecting you to take. Don’t know if they’re supposed to be detailed, analytical, or just basic observations. You try to give a combination, but in turn scribble out a lot of the notes because they looked jumbled.

It’s the first time in a while that you’ve been this nervous. Usually you’re able to bury your anxiety and ignore it, but this time it’s actively affecting you. And it’s annoying.

Constantly checking your phone to see if Asu has replied to you is damaging your work ethic. It’s distracting. He said he’d be there ASAP, didn’t he? It’s just your luck that he isn’t here when you really needed it.

It’s getting warm. Hot, even. You’re not even layered up on clothes but you can feel your hands getting clammy around your clipboard and pen. 

You needed to get out of here. 

You’re anxious as you turn to the coach, even more so when you realize he and the co-coach are 100% locked into the game. It’s a practice match and you’re here trembling like a baby.

How embarrassing.

“Coach,” your voice doesn’t feel like your own, “Can- I mean may I go on lunch a little early, I feel lightheaded,”

His face scrunches up in worry, you made him worry.

“Yeah of course, be sure to drink water and let us know if you need anything,”

You just give him a curt nod before dropping your clipboard onto the benches and heading outside.

When you check the time you get scared, you couldn’t have waited 5 more minutes huh, Y/N? 

The cool breeze envelopes you as you step outside. Breaths you didn’t even know you were holding were coming out one after another. At first, they were normal and organized but then they suddenly became erratic and uncontrolled. Fuck, not now.

You collapse against a nearby bench as panic swallows you whole. You’re stupid, why are you even freaking out so bad? This is embarrassing, humiliating. You want to go home.

What even made you think this internship would be easy? They’re a D1 college volleyball team, did you really think it’d be fine and dandy? Another example of your dumb decisions getting you into a mess.

You’re not reliable at all.

Your vision is blurry with tears and you force your head down towards your lap immediately. God, just stop crying already.

You just love to make everyone worry about you, don’t you?

“Y/N,”

You jump at the voice, your breathing, tears and movements halting all at once. Fuck.

You’re swallowing back the lump in your throat, blinking away the tears and taking a deep breath before continuing, “Yeah?”

When you finally look up, fear washes over you as you’re basically face to face with Sakusa Kiyoomi.

So pitiful.

“Are you okay?”

You always hate when people ask that. Especially when you’re obviously not. It just makes you self conscious and think about why you were upset in the first place. 

Thankfully, the tears were slow as they fell, and while your breaths were still uncontrollable, they were definitely calmer.

His eyes widened and you’re nervous for what he’s about to say. He’ll probably just scold you again.

“Hey,” he’s squatting down to your level, “deep breaths, Y/N,”

Sakusa breathes deeply inwards then out, gesturing for you to follow his lead. You do.

Weirdly enough it helps.

“I noticed you were nervous earlier,” he noticed? Did others? “What happened?”

“I—” you don’t know. Not really, anyways. Sakusa notices your hesitance. 

“You don’t have to say if you’re uncomfortable,”

“Sorry, I’m just scared that- that I’m not good at this job. This internship plus my exams plus homework, it- it’s too much,” you take another deep breath, “You were right, I shouldn’t have signed up for this— I’m so stupi—”

“Don’t,” your eyes meet again, this time he looks so concerned, the authenticity scares you, “I didn’t mean what I said— I was an asshole, alright? You’re doing great, Coach was going over your notes before he released us for lunch and said they were so much more than he expected,” 

“Liar—”

“I’m serious,” Sakusa says, “and this is all new to you, of course it’ll be hard to balance but I know you’ll get used to it. It’s temporary, just remember that. Just a semester and you can go back to how it was,”

It’s scary how much his words reassure you. You didn’t even realize you had calmed down until now. 

“I’m sorry, that was embarrassing,” you laugh off the awkwardness, wiping at your eyes, “Sorry you had to see that,”

“Don’t apologize,” he stands up, attention still focused on you, “Why don’t you come inside? Everyone was wondering where you were,”

Taking one last deep breath, you stand up with a smile, “Alright, after you,”

SECRET ALLIANCE — BREATHE

PREV | MASTERLIST| NEXT

NOTES.

y/n has been staying up late without telling anyone to study

she had a job in her freshman year but quit within a month because it was too much

she knows she shouldn’t be, but she’s a bit upset at Asu

© all writings belongs to suhkusa 2024. do not repost or change.

[ayekittyk4t]

pollinate

pairing: plug eren x afab reader

desc: you always make decision with eren that are on a whim. whether it’s him taking you to get a tattoo or him filming you, it’s never a normal routine.

content warning: established relationship, tattoos, needles, petnames ( princess, baby, etc…), a little dry humping, filming, oral sex (male receiving), hair pulling, spit, one slap on da face, lmk if i’m missing any lol

an: y’all this a lil rusty but it’s okay i guess. i had to oil up this rusty ol machine, but i hope y’all enjoy. more plug eren and reader to come. even tho this really didn’t have anything to do with him being a plug. it’s just part of the series/ collections idk. take it as you will.

sometimes, you think about some decisions you’ve made and wonder how stupid they were. you’d lay there, dealing with the consequences of your actions and repeating what may have been the alternative route. all the what if’s that would’ve been your reality. however, now that you’ve made that decision, all you could do was think about such things. and at this very moment in time, you’re laying with a very permanent decision.

eren had said you’re a baby for whining. but he had plenty of tattoos in various places, so his word didn’t matter to you. you do suppose that this was your decision after all, so you sit with the pain with your eyes screwed shut. that is what you were repeating in your head as you fought through the last few minutes of your tattoo session.

a lotus flower. eren had once said you were his lotus flower. you had no idea what if meant, but it had stuck with you. he said that you were a beautiful lotus flower on a bright green lily pad, sitting on calm water. he’d say this to you once in a while. and on whim, you decided to get it tattooed on you tonight. right on your sternum.

what a bad decision, because you were in a lot a fucking pain.

“awe, my princess is a little weak.” eren teased, petting your head to calm you down. you opened your eyes, squinting from the bright tattoo studio lights and looked at him with annoyance. from where you were laying and where he was behind you, his big smile almost looked like a frown. you know eren all too well though, he’d never frown in your pain. more so smile in a peculiar pleasure.

the constant puncturing of the small needles in your skin had been a pain. along with the buzzing of the tattoo gun. your head began to throb, so you shut your eyes. eren noticed, seeing how your jaw clenched and the way you swallowed hard. and despite finding a freakish pleasure in your pain, his heart tinged with pain of his own. with that, he moved his fingers to your temples and started messaging them. instantly, you felt calm.

“you’ll be fine, (y/n).” he says low and smoothly.

“yea, because you done.” mikasa said excitedly as she turned off the machine.

you opened your eyes to be directly looking into erens. he smiled big, his canines peeking through. his hands then fall to the side and you’re already missing his touch.

the table you’ve now laid on for god knows how long begins to fuel your discomfort. you wiggle around a bit, lifting you hips to stretch. mikasa let’s you know to stay put as she cleans you up and applies the second skin to avoid any infections.

“you’re all done.” she exclaims with a big smile as she clasps her hands together in excitement.

upon those words, you sit up, zipping your sweater up just enough to leave some room to look at the lotus in the mirror. feeling somewhat lightheaded, you stumble a bit as you hop off the table. eren grabs a hold of your arm, saving you from a fall and hold you close to him. looking up at him, you smile as he leads you to the mirror.

standing in front of the mirror, you inspect the permanent flower on your body. mikasa captured you vision well, and you were so happy about it.

“you look beautiful, baby.” eren says, standing behind you. you smile to him in approval through the reflection of the mirror.

-

the candlelight flickered, soothing your heavy eyes to shut and fall to sleep. you’re tired, using eren chest as a pillow. you listened to his heartbeat and inhaled his scent. it soothed you even more.

then you do it again, inhaling louder. your stomach caves in from how deep you took in erens scent. holding your breath for a bit, you breathe out with a low hum.

“what are you doing?” he chuckles, looking down at where your head rested.

you shoot up, lifting yourself from your comfort, “i’m addicted to the way you smell.”

“you’re fucking insane.”

rolling your eyes, you sit up. unzipping your sweater to take a look at the new ink on your skin. you couldn’t stop looking at it. admiring it. showing it off every few minutes. you felt tough. this pain was nothing, you thought. you could get a ton of tattoos now.

“will you take a picture for me?” you say suddenly, looking at him with doe like eyes. maybe part of you knew eren wouldn’t want to due to the placement of the tattoo. but you’d thought it’d be different since you’ve been dating for a while, and he always took pictures of you.

he was your personal photographer after all.

eren squints his eyes at you, his tongue poking at his cheek, “why?”

“because i want to post it.”

“for who?”

your mouth drops, and you match his judging gaze, “for all the other men who want me besides you.” the attitude is apparent in your tone as you rolled your eyes dramatically.

“watch your tone.” he’s no longer squinting his eyes, his brows are now furrowed and he spoke with a slight irritation in his voice.

“for me. who else?” you poke his forehead, and eren shoos you hand away.

you catch onto his attitude, realizing he’s not playing around anymore. it wasn’t a joke to him. he was somewhat a bit upset at you. this always happened. eren is short tempered, but you’re patient for him. all you could roll your eyes, again, and move on with your night.

“fine,” you sit up, grabbing your phone off the side table by your bed. “i’ll take if myself-”

just as you were about to get off your bed, eren wraps his arms around you and pulls you onto him.

“hey,” you scramble a bit and get up, acting as if this wasn’t a normal occurrence with eren. but it was.

“don’t worry about it, baby. i’ll take them for you.” he grabs a hold to your phone in your hand, his other hand gripping to your waist and squeezing.

you frown at him, “i’m sorry. c’mon, let me take those picture for you.” he’s sitting up, resting his back again the headboard. you squeeze your thighs around him, trying not to tip over.

“you sure?”

“yes.” he said lowly, his eyes shifting from yours to your body. your cheeks heat up once he looks at you. no matter how long you’ve been with eren, you never stop to get nervous around him.

you feel his hands inch up and down, thumbs pressing circles into your stomach. he looks back into your eyes, and you blink like the flustered girl you were. he begins to unzip your sweater, covering you just enough so your chest wasn’t showing. eren pushes the sweater a little off your shoulders and you shift you hips a bit. you feel him harden below you.

with the phone still in hand, eren unlocks your phone to take a photo.

you straighten up, arch your back and lift your hips a little. click. he take the photo. resting back down into erens lap, you whimper as his hard on makes contact with your clit. he groans quietly, lifting his hips to hit that spot again.

“no, one more picture. i want a a lot to choose from.” your placing your hands on his stomach, pushing him into the bed and leaning forward. click.

“smile.” he laughs a little, watching you blush once again and snaps more pictures.

“take nice ones, eren.”

“i am, baby.” he shifts your phone to your face and you hear your phone ding, letting you know your being recorded.

“hey!” you whine, pushing the phone, “stop playing.”

“i’m getting impatient, princess.” he groans, eyes shifting to his hard cock. “you keep teasing me.”

erens tone gets a bit whiny. though, you should be slightly annoyed, you fun pleasure in this. the way his gaze on you is now hungry, but you’re in control. and the way he groans when you rub yourself on him and he’s thrusting up for more.

you’re stomach bubbled in anticipation. you wanted to keep going for your own pleasure, but something about seeing eren whine and beg for it excited you. you felt your cunt throb. this would be new.

dropping the sweater off your shoulders, you expose your tits to him, nipples hardening from the cool breeze of the night. he reaches out to squeeze your tit, grab his hand and place it back to your hip. the phone still in his hand recording.

“c’mon, princess. let me touch you.” he whines, lips quivering.

you smile, not saying a word but instead rocking your hips against eren. dragging your clothed cunt against his cock foward feverishly, and moving back slowly. you continue this for a while, fast then slow. teasing eren and yourself. letting out soft whimpers while doing so.

then, you stop. you lift your lips away from eren and all his pleasure is gone. he thrust his hips in the air trying to find satisfaction in that. but it’s useless.

looking at eren, you see he’s holding the phone to the sealing. reaching out, you adjust it just enough so you’d be in the view. you lower yourself on the bed, hooking your dainty fingers on the waist band of his pajama pants and pulling them down. as your free his cock, he groans as it slaps against his stomach. you shove two fingers in your mouth, letting spit drip down them to moisten his length. thick and long, his tip leaking precum. you spread your spit around the tip, wrapping your hands around him and stroking. with your free hand you, play with his balls.

“fuckin-”

eren is cut off as he feels your wet tongue drag along the length of his cock. you swirl your tongue on the tip before wrapping your plump lips around it, then he feels the warmth of you mouth take the entirety of his cock. slowly, teasingly, he feels you inch down to the base. your nose shoved up against him. you look at him and hallow your cheeks.

he looks down at you, and moans lewdly. teeth grinding, sucking in deep breaths, brows furrowed and cheeks blushing. the grip on your phone he has as tight, the white of his knuckles peeped through.

he huffed and frowned. your hair was covering your perfect face. with his free hand, he moved the hair out of your face, wrapping his hands enough to tug you back a bit. you let his cock slip out of your mouth, a sting of saliva connected you to him drips down your chin.

“don’t drop the goddamn phone.” you spat out, more salivia slipping past your mouth. you lick your lips and swallow hard.

god, you’re so fuckin’ messy.

“never, baby.” he rasps, tugging on your hair once again. you moan at that. it hurt so good that you felt slick drip from your cunt.

at that, you spit again on him, taking him back in your mouth. he hits the back of your throat and it stings, but it brings you bliss. shutting your eyes, you bob your head against him, sucking hard once you get to his tip. your fast, no longer teasing him. you had a goal and that was for him to spill inside you.

your hands moved at the same speed as your mouth. filled with your spit and his own precum, the slick just added to his pleasure. eren loved your messiness when you sucked his cock.

“so fucking good, princess.” eren says through his teeth.

you look at him, his hair dishealved and almost out of its tight little bun. he’s so close. his chest is rising and falling, and his breath is shaky. you only speed up noticing this, looking him in the eyes. taking him in fast, hallowing your cheeks harder and adding more pressure on tongue as you reach his cockhead.

“ah fuck-, fuck baby.” he thrusting his hips into you mouth, his cock hitting the back of your throat. you gag, but inhale deeply through your nose and continue to reach your goal.

and in seconds a thick, warmth fills your mouth. eren groans loudly thrusting his hips so you get every last drop of his cum in your mouth. that salty, thick liquid coats your mouth. you release his cock from your mouth, pursing your lips together and swallowing hard. he’s a mess, chest rising and falling. you and him are warn down, but you take it into you hands to clean him up.

you lick your spit off the length of his cock and take his tip in your mouth on last time. you suck hard, releasing it with a pop. eren looks at you with a lust filled gaze.

“let me see.” he’s referring to his cum. he wanted you to take it all. eren releases his hand from your hair and grips onto your chin. he squeezes your cheeks and moves the phone to record the inside of your mouth. you stick your tongue out to prove you swallowed it all.

“good fuckin’ girl.” he gives you a small smack on your cheek in approval.

“now show the camera your pretty little tattoo.”

you listen quickly, sitting up above eren. the bed squeaks from your quick movements. you feel the slick between your legs drip down your thighs. eren moved the camera back onto your chest, he’s running a hand up to your chest and squeezes your tit. you didn’t care if he was touching you now. his touch ignited something in you. it always did. either way, you broke him down just a bit. at least for today.

“that’s my slutty princess.”

[sevasey51]

Would Connor keep a emergency kit of her meds in his locker? If so, I would absolutely love a request of towards the end of her shift she starts feeling off and goes to find him in the ED.

Just In Time

Summary: After a long shift, Y/N begins to feel the early signs of a severe POTS episode—dizziness, nausea, and a racing heart. Recognizing the danger, she goes to find her husband, Dr. Connor Rhodes, in the ED. Ethan notices she’s unwell and calls for Connor, who arrives just in time to catch her before she collapses. Calm but focused, Connor rushes to his locker, where he keeps a specially prepared emergency med kit just for her. With Will assisting and vitals deteriorating, Connor administers the medication and stays by her side, helping her regulate and recover. Once stable, he quietly reminds everyone—and her—that he always has her back, no matter what.

The end of a long shift always brought a certain kind of relief, the kind that settled deep in your bones. You’d made it through the day. Your charting was mostly done, and you were already fantasizing about changing into sweats and letting Connor wrap you in a blanket on the couch. Maybe you’d even convince him to order takeout.

But that all went quiet the moment you stood up from the nurses’ station.

The dizziness hit first—like someone had yanked the floor out from under you. You gripped the edge of the desk, your breath catching as your vision tunneled. Cold sweat bloomed along the back of your neck, and your heart thudded far too fast and far too hard for someone who hadn’t moved more than a few steps.

You’d felt this before. Enough times to know the warning signs.

POTS.

And worse, it didn’t feel like a regular bad day. This one had that edge. That dangerous kind of off, where the lights felt too sharp, your hands were starting to tingle, and the nausea crawled up your throat.

You needed Connor. Now.

You didn’t even try to act like everything was fine—not this time. You took the elevator down to the ED instead of the stairs, bracing yourself against the wall, your fingers trembling against the cool metal. The moment the doors opened, the sound of the emergency department hit you like a wave—monitors beeping, voices overlapping, gurneys rolling past—but none of it mattered.

You just needed to find him.

Connor wasn’t on the floor immediately, but Ethan saw you the moment you walked in.

“Hey, Y/N, you alright?” he asked, already stepping closer, concern written across his face.

Your hand waved off the question half-heartedly. “Just—need Connor. Feels like an episode coming.”

That was enough. Ethan tapped his comm. “Rhodes to the ED, stat. It’s Y/N.”

You barely heard the response. Everything was buzzing. Your heart rate pounded like a war drum in your ears, and your knees started to buckle—

But then he was there.

“Hey, hey, I got you,” Connor’s voice broke through the chaos like a lifeline. His arms came around you fast, steadying you as you slumped against his chest. “You’re okay. I’ve got you. Just breathe for me, sweetheart.”

You clung to the lapel of his white coat, grounding yourself in the steady thrum of his voice. You could feel his hand on the back of your head, cradling you gently as he guided you to a nearby exam room.

Will was right behind him with a portable monitor. Connor already knew the routine, but he still asked, “What are you feeling?”

“Dizzy… nauseous. Hands feel weird. Lightheaded.” Your voice was thin, almost slurred.

Connor’s jaw clenched. “It’s coming on fast. I’m getting your meds.”

He left your side only long enough to dart to the staff locker room. In the far back corner, tucked behind a clean lab coat and a pack of mints, was a locked metal box he kept just for you. Inside were carefully labeled syringes, saline flushes, anti-nausea meds, and a few doses of your emergency treatments. He’d restocked it two days ago. Just in case.

He was back in seconds, already prepping a syringe. “Alright, sweetheart. You know the drill. You’re gonna feel a little sting, and then it’ll get better.”

You nodded weakly, eyes fluttering shut.

Will slipped the monitor leads onto your chest. “HR’s spiking—150s and climbing. BP’s tanking.”

“I’ve got her,” Connor said tightly, his voice low but calm. “Just need a minute.”

He pressed the injection into your thigh, then took your hand, thumb brushing gentle circles over your knuckles. His free hand cupped your cheek.

“You’re safe, baby. Just hang in there.”

It took about two minutes before your breathing started to ease. Your fingers stopped twitching, your heart rate slowly dropping. You could feel the fog lifting, enough to look up and find Connor watching you like nothing else in the world existed.

“I’m okay,” you whispered.

“You will be,” he promised, leaning down to kiss your forehead. “I’ve got you.”

Will gave him a look, equal parts teasing and fond. “You’re the only attending I know who keeps an emergency med kit in their locker.”

Connor didn’t even look away from you. “She’s the only reason I need one.”

[fawnnpaws]

femming art what have u done to me...... completely demasculating him and then using his cock to make yourself cum I'm gonna go bonkers - his eyeshadow and mascara bleeding down his cheeks as you bounce in his lap hhhhhggughhgg

POPPY YEEWW GET ME

essentially making him a pretty doll for you to fuck aauurrr you do his makeup so pretty, pink blush and sparkly eyeshadow with lipstick to match, non-waterproof mascara that you bought specifically because you know it’ll run the second he gets teary eyed….. he’s such a crybaby you know it’ll be all over his pretty face almost as soon as it’s been put on. he wants to be good so bad, he lets you tie a pink ribbon bow around his neck and doesn’t complain when you take off the cute pink panties you’ve had on all day and tell him to put them on. how can he when he feels how damp they are with your slick, when he has proof of your arousal against his skin? his pretty cock drools all over them, his pre mixing with the essence of you until there’s a dark wet spot marring the baby pink fabric. his whole body flushes when you sit him down in front of your full length mirror with his back to your chest. you let your hands roam over his bare chest and stomach, the only thing covering him are your little panties, stretched taught against his straining dick. he tries not to look at himself but one of your hands grips his jaw and keeps his eyes forward.

“don’t be shy, baby, look how pretty you are.” you tell him, unashamedly groping his cock over the thin cotton with your other hand. “don’t you think i made you look pretty?”

he nods his head and his eyes nearly cross, but he keeps them focused for you. he has to be good. he needs you to tell him he’s good.

“say it for me, sweetheart. use your words like a big girl.”

“i- i’m pretty, you made me- made me look so pretty.” he’s getting lightheaded watching you touch him in the mirror. he squirms and tries to roll his hips into your hand. “fuck- fuckfuckfuck- can i have more? please? please! i’ll be so good- make you feel good!”

you lock eyes with him in the mirror and give him a smile that makes his stomach swoop. you shed the remainder of your clothes, then crawl around him and settle in his lap. he can feel the wetness from your bare pussy through his panties. “gonna make me feel good, huh? you gonna make me cum on this pretty angel dick?”

he looks up at you like you hung the moon and the stars just for him and you swear you see him start drooling. you pull his panties to the side and let his dick spring free. it bobs for just a moment before you’re lining yourself up and sinking down on it. poor art’s eyes roll back into his head so hard he thinks he might have blacked out for a moment. you waste no time chasing your own pleasure as you start bouncing yourself on him, the sound of your hips against his and his balls against your ass filling the room with a lewd plap plap plap plap. his breathing is uneven beneath you, a stream of little whimpers and choked out sobs are being ripped from his throat and tears are streaking down his face. his mascara runs in thick black lines down his pink cheeks and he’s leaning up to try to kiss you. you duck your head and bite his earlobe before you speak. “can’t kiss you, baby, we’ll ruin your pretty lipstick.”

he catches a glimpse of himself in the mirror and whines. he looks a mess. once pretty eyeshadow is now smeared and blends in with the ring of black melted mascara around his eyes, his cheeks are stained with remnants of highlighter darkened by thick black tear tracks and tears that are still falling.

“‘s already ruined! please please- kiss me, need you, ‘m ruined- you ruined me- please mommy-” his tears keep falling and his makeup keeps smearing, so you give him what he wants. you tongue his throat and he takes it eagerly, planting his feet on the floor to piston his hips up into you. even in his fucked out state, one of his hands finds your clit and it’s not long before he feels your pussy choking his dick as you crash over the edge.

“oh fuck yesyesyes— cum for mommy, babygirl, c’mon- give it to me, give it all to me,” you moan into his mouth and he follows your command, pumping you full of hot cum and clawing at your body to get you as close as possible. you stay intertwined and panting as you come down together. when his dick has softened you slide off of him, but stay hovering above his lap. you move the panties back over his dick and swipe two fingers inside of yourself to gather some of his cum, then sit back down on his lap to let the rest drip out and soak his panties even more. you grin and run your cum covered fingers over his lips. “there, new coat of lipstick for you, baby.”

his eyes flutter shut and he lets his body fall backwards, flat on the ground, as his dick kicks back to life and he says, “you’re fucking evil.”

he loves it though <33

[pumpkinstrawbrew]

Do you have some sick headcanons for scarebat? What will one of them do if the other feels unwell? After all, illnesses and injuries are not that uncommon among vigilantes and criminals.

admittingly, hurt/comfort was always smth of a secretive, wishful angle for me. letting someone touch one’s wounds or tend to their sickness feels almost as intimate as a kiss would. esp for characters like jon an’ bruce, whose trust issues an’ general jerkiness, when it comes to being cared for is what makes this so soothing. the concept of it is nearly healing for my worn heart. an’ granted, i was historically interested an’ fascinated by injuries an’ general unwellness / sickness in fiction for many different reasons. an’ as you pointed out, those things are pretty common among both heroes an’ villains. there is also smth so funny an’ cute about thinking of such people getting some mundane disease like a flu. i imagine, i’d be hard to deliver a villainous monologue with stuffed nose lol. a do all those impressive acrobatics, that bruce does, while having a fever an’ scratchy throat. 

but welp, since this topic is very dear to my heart an' i see care as core of scarebat, i want to do smth different here. technically still listing some of my hcs, but also doing it in a less technical format. hope, that’s alright with ya! 

so ah, anyways, a lil scarebat sick ficlet below … hence, i wrote it while i’m suffering through an awful writing block, so it is what it is. i gave it my best.

༻❁༺

It all started with a sneeze.

In all the years of fighting the Bat, Scarecrow had never heard or seen him do that. Perhaps, that was why it took him longer, than it should have been to realize what kind of noise it was and most importantly, where it sourced from. 

“Are you —” 

Another sneeze. This time directly into his masked face. 

Crane blinked, very-very slowly, still stunted by the fact that the fearsome vigilante of Gotham was apparently sick. This had never happened before. He’d remember if it had. 

On his part, Batman seemed to give up trying to pretend like he didn’t have trouble breathing. Him sniffing had pretty much made Scarecrow lose any train of thoughts completely.

He was mesmerized by this phenomenon as he was confused by it. 

“You are…” the Bat cleared his throat, and indeed, now, when Jon paid attention to this, he realized that the dark knight's voice sounded more coarse and gravelly this time around, than it usually did, “You are coming with me.” 

“Or you sneeze on me some more?” Scarecrow replied without any actual bite to it, just questioning, really.

It wasn’t the smartest thing to say, he knew. Batman’s fist around his collar had tightened enough to make him choke on air and nearly regret being so blunt. But only nearly.

“Don’t test me, Crane. I’m not in the mood.” 

He could see that. But what he also could see — 

“Can it be that you feel lightheaded from the chase or perhaps, you don’t think that you can take on me, if I’ll keep fighting back?” Scarecrow said, giving the other man a direct look from under the brim of his hat, “Are you afraid that you’d fall over sooner, than you can manage to get a proper hold on me again, Batman?” 

This wasn’t the smartest thing to say, either. But unlike the last time, he recognized the shift in the vigilante’s posture. A slightly tightened set of his jaw and deeper crease on his mask. 

He was just proven to be correct, then. The Bat wasn’t too sure, if he could handle another ‘dance’ with him. Which was too bad, he was starting to really get into it, but with this new development, it will have to wait. 

“Coming here while being sick, what were ya thinkin’, I wonder...” he mussed, mostly to himself. Though, he knew already. “This is reckless, even for you.”  

“Crane —”

“Oh, shut it.” Jonathan reprimanded under his breath, before slapping Batman’s hand away from him. It was surprisingly easy. Way too easy in fact. Under his mask, he frowned, finding himself disliking the worm of uncertanity which entered his mind, “Just how sick are you?” 

Instead of answering, Batman tilted his head a bit to the right, as if avoiding his look altogether. Not that it helped to hide anything.

Even when they were further apart, Jon could still feel the heat radiating from the vigilante’s bulky form, but now, he had to ponder if it wasn’t heat of a body after a fight, but rather a sign of a raising fever. 

Maybe, he should have used this situation to his advantage, - as any villain would do - but it was almost the same as kicking a baby across the football field, and then trying to frame it like winning an actual fight. 

“Almost anyone might have a chance to take on you right now.” Scarecrow said, watching the Bat’s shoulders roll back. A familiar display of one of his fighting stances. Hence, it was slightly less impressive now, after all that sneezing and general feeling, like even a weakling like Killer Moth could have the chance to land a good hit on Batman now. 

“Want to try?” 

“Are yer ears clogged!?” the accent unpleasantly cut his own hearing, but the pang of anger come so suddenly and so abruptly, that Crane forgot to control his speech, as it sometimes happened around the other man, “I said anyone, I said nothing about the likes of me, the sinister Scarecrow doing anythin’ of sorts! Do pay attention, you Bat-fool!” 

And ah the fool, he was! To come here and hope, that he could win and then, do what? Ran to stop another crime, while barely standing on his feet? 

This wasn’t just selfless. This was careless!

Scarecrow was certain, that most criminals would have abused this knowledge to no end. And he still could too. He still could do that as well. But alas, he wasn’t in the mood, either. 

(Yes, he just wasn't in the right mood. That's it.)

“Come with me for a moment.” he gestured for the vigilante to follow, before stalking toward his 'working' table. This makeshift lab was easily one of the most circumscribed and stuffy out of any other he had before, but it had served its purpose. 

And right now, he was about to do something, that he rarely did. Or rather, he never did it for anyone else in his life. Just for himself. 

“Sit.” he ordered, softening his tone just a little afterwards as if it could truly help, in case the other man decided to refuse, “It’ll…take a while.” 

He half-expected Batman to protest or most predictably, silently decline, but to his surprise, after some noticeable amount of hesitation and no doubt, weighing all of his remaining options, the vigilante took the offered seat without any fuss. 

He must have felt pretty bad, if he agreed to this without any complaints or attempts to see a deception in such a simple proposal.

“I always thought that you were smarter than this.” Scarecrow shared conversationally, while looking at a few different canisters, picking up two and putting them aside, before repeating the action, searching for thr right ones, “But I suppose, your suicidal inclinations cannot be helped.”

“I don’t have —” the Bat paused, clearing his throat again, “I don’t have those.” 

“Of course, you don’t. You just like putting yourself into deadly and risky situations without any actual reward for no reason.” Crane took a moment to look into his direction, meeting glare with a glare, before spitting out, “My bad.”

The Bat didn’t even try to fight him on this, which was worrisome. It seemed like whatever energy he had was slowly sipping away from him as they spoke. Instead of any usual confrontation, the vigilante just sniffed again, tilting his face to look elsewhere. 

Not that, Jonathan was about to complain about Batman being somewhat cooperative, as he preferred to work in silence, without anyone breaking his concentration. 

"Ah, where is it...? Mhh, no, no." he turned one of the vials in his hand, realizing what it was pretty quickly, before putting back, "Tch, definitely no...A-ha! Yes, there it is!"

Once, he had all that he needed in front of him, Crane didn’t waste any more time. The formula was simple, but he needed to pay attention to the dose of each component. Typically, he might have considered messing something up on purpose, but as he decided earlier, he just wasn’t in the mood for it. 

“What are you doing?” the Bat asked some time later, before that remaining oddly quiet. To the point, where Scarecrow almost forgot that a large, sharp shadow to his right was Gotham underworld’s worst nightmare and not just another piece of furniture. 

“I’m almost done.” 

“This doesn’t answer my question, Crane.” 

Scarecrow shot him a moody look, both hands gripping a respective vials with upmost care, “And I’ve said, I’m almost done. Do have patience, would ya!” 

It wasn’t his fault, that Batman never liked his surprises, even if this time around, it wasn’t even that. It was more of an unexpected and selfless aid. Not the sort of thing, Crane would usually find himself doing and after that, he probably won’t do it ever again. 

But this time, it was an exception. 

This is one time thing, he declared to himself inside his own head, as it felt better this way, than the uncertainty that he truly felt about the vague nature of this statement. 

“Here.” he brought the fruit of his labor to the Bat, who peered at the small tub between Crane’s thin fingers, like it was a potentially dangerous radioactive substance. Scarecrow nudged it closer to his chin, watching the vigilance cringe back in mild paranoia, “Inhale.”

“What is it.” 

“Homemade medicine.” 

The Bat looked at him, then back at his hand, clearly not trusting his words at all. “Why.”

“Because you are sick and I don’t want your germs.” this was part of the truth. Jonathan didn’t have the best immune system. And lately, he was prone to catching cold. Especially during autumn seasons, when the rain in Gotham was almost constant. “I don’ want to be sick on Halloween.” 

Partial truth. But still better, than nothing.

“How foreseeing of you, professor.” 

“I assume, you meant to say how generous of me, my bat-winged friend.” he gestured with his other hand toward the vial, “Now, inhale and then, drink it.” 

The cowl copied an expression of the face below it, mimicking a raised brow. 

Scarecrow scoffed, before yanking the bottom of his mask up and taking a small sip himself. The taste wasn’t the best, but it wasn't the worst thing in the world. Besides, the bets were that Batman won’t even be able to taste anything at all. “Here. It’s safe. It’s not poison and it’s not one of my toxins. I come up with this thing a few years ago, when —” 

He trailed off, trying to recall the exact time, he had an idea of creating a medicine for himself, but as per usual, he found it tricky to navigate some of his memories nowadays. He forgot a lot of things as they seemed to be unimportant.  

“...when I was sick. It was during winter, I believe.” he finished quickly, glad to see the Bat accepting the offering, even with those tightly pressed lips and general air of uneasiness around him, “But how on earth did you get sick? I didn’t see you sick before. At this point, we all collectively assumed, that you can’t catch a cold or be mowed down by fever!” 

The bat detective gave it a thought, before admitting in a hoarse voice, “Mister Freeze.” 

“Ahhh…” the morning news did say, that Batman was forced to swim through icy waters in order to get out this time, so it must have been this, “But you usually have something to counter him with, don’t you? Why not now?” 

“I was expecting just Penguin, not both of them.” 

Crane tapped a bony, clawed fingers against his jaw, humming, “Unfortunate circumstances…I see, I see…” 

Meanwhile, Batman finally took a careful, small sniff as he was told to earlier, only to instantly jerk back with his other hand flying to cover his nose and mouth, as the smell no doubt, had penetrated the barrier, presumably making his eyes water from its intensity. 

“Forgot to warm ya about ‘at. It has a bite to it, te-hee.” Crane giggled, stitched mouth mirroring his actual smile. “Granted, it’s only this terrible the first three times. On the forth, it gets manageable.” 

Another glare, wilting as it was, but at least, Batman seemed to believe Jonathan’s words now more as it must have become a bit easier for him to breathe. 

“Drink all of it, but not in one gulp.” Batman made no move to comply, prompting Scarecrow to put his hands onto his hips, leaning forward, almost like a teacher would, when he noticed his student cheating on a test, “I had already proven to you, that you won’t die, if you drink this. So open your mouth and drink.”

“You can have tolerance —” 

“Gah, what are you gonna do!” Jonathan couldn’t help a frustrated noise, which escaped him shortly after he threw his arms in the air. “Giving you medicine is even harder than giving it to my birds, and they aren’t even fully domesticated!”

“And you are implying that I am?” 

“What?” Jon was about to continue expressing his annoyence, but this forced him to pause, reconsidering it, “What did ya say?”

“...domesticated.” the Bat finished, putting a lot of emphasis into one single word, like he did with his name sometimes. 

Crane grounded his jaw, suddenly finding himself in the middle of the conversation, he didn’t fully understand the meaning of. “Gimme that, if you're not gonna drink it, you ignoramus jock!” 

He reached out to take the vial away from the vigilante’s grip, but was easily evaded. The Bat wasn’t scowling or looking menacing, instead his face — the parts of it which he could read — appeared to be thoughtful. “I’ll take it with me.” 

And judging by his posture, he was about to try and catch Crane again. At least, Scarecrow suspected that he was, therefore taking a measured step back was a smart move on his part. As well as letting his body fluidly gain a meaner, combat-ready stance.

“I won’t make it easy for you.” he warned. 

Batman hmpfud, “I wasn’t counting on it.” 

༻❁༺

Approximately six days later, Jonathan found himself back in his cell. An unsurprising conclusion, since even if the Bat didn’t manage to incarcerate him the first two times, he did it on the third; precise as clockwork. 

However, this wasn’t even the most unfortunate part of Jonathan's latest venture. As not only he was brought back to asylum, after helping the vigilante fight his disease, — the decision, which he had come to regret rather quickly — but he also got the said disease himself!  

The only thing, which was worse, than being back to this poor excuse of a bed and these four cold walls was being back in said place with itchy nose and fever so high, that he was literally shaking, feeling like he was about to freeze to death any moment now. 

Whatever Batman had was one nasty virus. And now, he had it too, despite wearing the mask around the other male all the time. But perhaps, just one single sneeze directly into his face was enough to infect him. It appeared to be enough, anyways. 

At his arrival and upon revelation, that he was indeed ill, Jonathan was given standard medicine. A slow, not very helpful one, along with the notion, that since med bay was overflowing with patients, after yet another unsuccessful riot, they had nowhere to put him at, but his own cell. 

Scarecrow couldn't say that he minded it too much, but he imagined the med bay was still warmer, than his own ‘room’. Even if part of his brain recognized, that he wasn’t even cold, but rather feverish. Tricked into thinking, like he was freezing.

And if this wasn’t enough, he had also sprained his wrist by the feel of it. Landing on it with his full weight, while he tried to escape from Batman, who was still recovering from his own sickness. The vigilante’s reaction was noticeably a tad slower than it usually was, as he missed the moment, when Jonathan’s foot slipped and he plamended down.

He could feel the bruised place pulsating under the gauze. Tender from harm and not all that keen on being touched. Crane tried not to disturb it too much, but he also struggled to find a proper pose or spot to fall asleep at. No matter how much he attempted to let the tiredness claim him, it felt like he was just too cold to sleep. His bed felt too cold and the room itself was —

"...Ah?"

He could have sworn, that he felt a swish of wind touching his face just now. 

But this made no sense. 

He knew damn well, that it didn’t make any lick of sense, whatsoever. Yet, he did feel it. The wind. Inside the closed, impenetrable cell. Was he hallucinating now too?

Scarecrow frowned, cracking his eyes open, unable to choke back a scared, little yelp, once his vision caught up with his brain. A familiar shadow was right above him, and even if he should have gotten used to Batman's sudden appearances over the years, he still wasn’t prepared to see him so closely to his bed, towering over him like that.

“B-batman!” he shouted out, eyes wide and covers tightly twisted between his fingers. He wasn’t expecting any ‘guests’ today, so he didn’t bother to comb a mess on his head, or to do anything with a bunch of huddled, used paper tissues next to his bedside. 

Even the book, which he tried to read before he realized, that he couldn’t concentrate, was still lying next to him. It’s spine worn and old. The title was barely recognizable at this point. 

If he wasn’t this sick and miserable, he’d be upset so much more about his poor looks and muddle impression of his enclosure, than he currently was. 

“Crane.” the vigilante acknowledged. 

“Are ya here to ask me somethin’...?” this was typical at this point. Those soft interrogations, if the Bat needed an info on another criminal. But then, during some way rarer and far in between times, the Bat might have actually an needed advice, which was something of their little secret. Scarecrow would have been a fool and a hypocrite to deny, that he wasn't borderline flattered by such sort of attention, even if he was merely being used to solve some other cases. Still, this was a rather delicate situation. “I can’t say, that I’ll be much of a service to y-you today, I’m afraid.”  

The sneeze, which forced its way out, was a good proof of that. Even as they talked, he could feel the energy leaving him in waves.  

The Bat slowly shook his head. Once. “It’s not that.” 

“What’s then?” 

“A welfare check.” 

Crane blinked at him, pulling the ratty blanket tighter around himself, before he spoke again, less controlled now, “On m-me?” 

“On you too.” Batman replied, before placing himself on the edge of his bed. The ends of his cape fell around him, seamlessly bleeding in with the darkness, which covered the floor of Scarecrow’s lonely cell. “I’ve heard you were sick.”

Scarecrow scoffed. You don’t say! 

“And whose fault do you think it is, huh?” he spat half-heartedly, sniffing for good measure. Unlike the Bat, he didn’t even try to make it silently. Let him know what he did! 

Instead of admitting the consequences of his devastating sneeze all those days back, the Bat simply asked, “How is your wrist?” 

“How do you think it is? B-bad. It — hurts.” Crane attempted to bury himself deeper into the covers. The cold was really getting the best of him, and to make matters more humiliating, even he knew, that he was simply whining at this rate. But he was cold and hurt, and no one usually cared to ask him about those thing, “A l-lot.” 

“Show me.” 

Scarecrow stared at him, and the Bat stared at him back. Gaze unwavering and calm. 

After another short pause, Jon extracted a wrapped up wrist from his makeshift cocoon for the vigilante to inspect. The possible gentleness of otherwise bruising touch had never stopped surprising him. How light and tender the hold, which he knew to be just as brutal when needed, would graze over the bruised skin. 

“It would heal faster, if you would stop bothering the injury.” 

“I d-d-didn't bother it.” 

“You have a habit of scratching your arms, when you are nervous.” Batman pointed out, his big finger grazed the part of gauze, where the fabric was clearly messed with, “Or you got over your neurotic habits overnight?” 

His attentiveness was always both gladdening and infuriating. Mostly because he tended to notice things, that even Crane sometimes didn’t notice about himself. 

“What is it to ya, if I did?” 

He said this just to be difficult. 

And it didn’t work. The Bat didn’t take the bait. Didn’t even flinch or scoffed.

“Do not bother your injury, Crane.” the vigilante repeated, before slowly lowering his hand down. His glove was oddly warm and Jon found himself missing the touch, when it ended. Even if it was an insignificant one, it was still better than being back to trying to warm himself up with pressure of his bony limbs against his own scrawny body. 

He also had no idea what to do with his hand now. Should he just let it rest there or...?

“Lord of Flies.” 

“Eh?” he glanced at Batman, noticing him picking up the book, Jon wasn’t able to get through earlier. In fact, he didn’t even recall at what exact place in the story, he stopped reading at, “Y-yes. It has been a long while since I’ve reread this one.” 

If Batman tried to build some kind of logical chain upon why Scarecrow picked this book, he didn’t share it with him.

As for Crane, he considered trying to crawl closer to the only source of warmth in his cell, without it being too noticeable, but he doubted that in his slow and sluggish state he could pull off something like this. Not to mention, that a mere cold still stinged way less, than a direct rejection would. 

It was safer to just do nothing. For his own calm of mind. 

“Your homemade medicine —” Batman began, tone mild and carefully neutral, like he still tried to figure out the best way to go about it. 

“Yes?” Crane’s eyes were half-lidded, gleaming menacingly as he waited for the next shoe to drop. “W-what’s about it?” 

“It was very helpful.” 

“P-hah. Of course, it was. I’m the one, who m-made it, Bat-bully.” and he wished that he was allowed at least two feet near the chemicals again, so that he could do the same thing for himself. But alas, he was stuck with the weak stuff, that they gave them at Arkham. “I know what I’m doing!” 

The Bat hummed deeply in his throat. “You could have been a pharmacist.” 

“Maybe. But I don’t w-want to be one. I w-want —” Crane paused, sniffing miserably, before adding with a full body shiver, which wasn’t entirely caused by sickness, “f-eeear.” 

A pause. Familiar and somewhat somber. 

“Yes, I know.” 

Scarecrow briefly wondered, if the Bat still hoped to live to the day, when this answer might change. Change, even if they both knew that it was impossible. And that if Jon said anything else, he would have been lying through his teeth. 

But oh, that hope of his… 

He never truly understood it. And probably never ever will. 

“Why are you still here, d-dark knight?” Crane asked, once it became oblivious that the presence at the edge of his bed wasn’t about to vanish in thin air like it usually did, “I’m not well, but checked, I’ll presume.” 

So, indeed, why was he still here, keeping him company? Didn’t he have a city to guard? Good and honest damsels and gents to save? Literally anything — 

“I don’t like being in debt.” 

He suspected just as much, and yet, “What can ya do for me? You can’t give me any additional medicine, can ya?” 

“No.” Batman stated, strict as ever, “Your usual medication might have a negative reaction, if mixed with wrong chemical components.” 

Ah, so he knew about some of his allergies as well? This was new information to him. But even with all this risk, it was better than being bedridden and weak in his very bones. Was is so hard to get?

“What g-g-good are ya for, then?” Crane snided meanly, almost instantly regretting his poor choice of words, since as it goes, he didn’t really want the Bat to leave just yet. Therefore, he hurried to correct his mistake, “But I’m —” he dragged his tongue across his dry lips, trying to find the best way to put it. Something somewhat sincere, but not too much, “....ah, very c-cold. Can you d-do something about that, at least?” 

He would kill for an additional blanket! Granted, he had asked for one earlier, but Dr. Arkham said that he wasn’t actually cold and was instead burning up, as if this should have made Jon feel any better. 

It did not. 

If anything, this only made Crane openly cuss at the old sadist. He rarely got this low to call others names, but small satisfaction from getting a reaction out of Jerry was worth it. 

“Scoot away, then.” 

Jonathan tilted his head, pressing his cheek directly against the pillow. All this to have a better angle to stare at the Bat from, as he required in blunt confussion, “What.” 

“Move closer to the wall, Crane.”

He looked over his shoulder, cringing from the mere thought of how chilly the stone was to the touch. He didn’t want his back anywhere near it! 

“But it’s c-cold.” he whined in weak protest. "I will - I will get even colder, then!"

Batman, who sometimes had a fair amount of tolerance for his complaints, clearly didn’t have it right now. His mouth formed a straight, unimpressed line, before he put his hand onto Scarecrow’s chest and pretty much pushed him back with one single, forceful nudge. 

And just as Crane prepared himself for a long-winded — as much as possible with throat this scratchy — tirade about how mean everyone was to him, and how much of a bully Batman was toward a sick man, his bed creaked with additional weight, making his jaw clink shut. 

He mutely peered at the Batman, letting him settle next to him, book still in hand. Legs stretched more comfortably and generally, there was an odd sense about him now. Less guarded and less restricted air about his whole persona, than usual. 

This was…puzzling. 

Was he imagining things for real now? Was this all just the fever speaking? 

Wordlessly, Scarecrow scooped his wounded hand closer to his body, trying to find it in himself to be annoyed with this strange predicament and failing to play the part. 

(Nothing like that had ever happen before.)

“You’re - you are taking up half of my b-bed.” he berated without any actual bite to his words. “H-how is this supposed to help?” 

“You are cold.”

It both answered everything and answered nothing at all. What exactly was he supposed to do with that malarkey?

"And you are warm."

"You are getting the idea."

Yes, he supposed, he kind of did.

The Bat’s arm was resting right above his pillow, if he moved a bit more, he could pretty much put his head on it. But this won’t warm him up by much. He needed the closer contact.

Besides, the Bat offered, didn't he?

(This was the offer, right?)

Jon let out a low cough, as dragged himself upward, and then down again, so that his head was nearly lying on Batman’s chest, — but not quite as he wasn’t that bold — while he drew his long legs closer to his body. 

Eventually, he settled into a resemblance of comfort. Or rather, his main focus was to try and press himself as closely to the other man as possible, without getting too cocky. He wasn’t about to test his luck, when he felt this ill. 

His knees nearly touched the man’s hip and — 

It was warmer this way, he thought with relief. And he also could steal glances upwards too. His vision was fairly obscured by their position, but this was better than nothing.

“This book surprised me a lot, when I was younger.” Batman said, suddenly, yet somehow his voice did not disturb this strangely 'cozy' atmosphere at all, “I was expecting something less —”

“Violent?” 

“Sad.” the vigilante corrected, probably having that far-away look to him again, “I’d call it sad, rather than just violent.” 

“Is t-that so?” he really wished that his teeth would stop clattering against each others, or his stutter wouldn't make him sound so pathetic, when he wanted to sound menacing, “Why do you think that's sad, big man?” 

Batman's melancholy was always such a mystery. Always the novelty, even if he was aware of it's existence for nearly a decade at this point.

"We'll be like animals. We'll never be rescued." Batman quoted steadily, before seemingly looking down at him, “Is this line of thinking not sad to you?” 

“T-they did become something of an a — animals, did they not?” Scarecrow reported back, “Goldman had a g-great deal of understanding, when it came to children and h-how they are. He was a teacher, after all.” 

But it ran even deeper, than this, of course. It wasn’t just the kids, who were capable of such things. It was coded within human’s very nature. 

And — 

“T-the only choice that really matters, the only interpretation of the story, if — if you want one, is your own. Not your teacher's, not your professor's, not mine, not a critic's, n-not some authority's.” Jonathan continued, also quoting the book as he tried to make his point, “Each of them w-would say that they aren’t to blame for getting t-to such a low. For acting barbaric in a land without the law. They were scared. And it’s — that’s their burden to carry. Others weren’t there.” 

The Bat sighed. He could tell by the slight fell of his chest. “Still not sad enough for you?” 

Jon managed something of a shrug, “I h-have a thicker skin, than that. You should k-know by now.” 

Batman didn’t reply, and quite frankly, he wasn’t expecting him to. A lot of their ‘deeper’ and more personal talks always went nowhere. It was nearly impossible for them to agree on most things. 

Yet, it’s this man, Crane found himself leaning closer to, time and time again relying on him in ways he would never rely on anyone else in his life. Even if there was no clear understanding, there was something at least. 

(Perhaps, the acceptance of the difference between them.) 

He jerked, when a hand pressed against his forehead, pushing back the unruly hair away from his sweaty skin. The fever was running high, but his pulse wasn’t drumming inside his ears just because of it. At this moment, he was pretty much stuck just staring past the outline of Batman’s hand, seeing the counter of his face, but not his expression. 

It was a small gesture, but the weight of concern behind it was almost too much for Crane to handle.

“...’m not dyin’, s-silly Bat....” he mumbled, despite himself closing his eyes. He was still shivering, but it was more sustainable now, when he was able to at least somewhat press himself to another living, warm body. “Jus’ fever.” 

No response again, only the slightly smudged movement of hand, before it left fully, making him ache for contact again. 

But even with this renewed distance between them, this particular spot was finally getting more comfy. Crane felt like he just might fall asleep, if he tried hard enough. After at least two hours or twisting and turning, he might finally be able to rest properly. 

“What is your favorite scene from the book?”

Ah right, right. They were talking, weren't they?

“W-when Simon talks with the pig’s head.” he was rather impressed by it, when he was younger. Spooked almost, but then again, when Jon was a mere impressive young lad, he was frightened of nearly everything unknown and even slightly unsettling, “That book communicates dread an’ uneasiness fairly well.” 

And there was something almost relatable about that scene too. A boy, who was confined in a severed pig’s head, nearly paralleling Jon who took his anger out on a local scarecrow.

In some ways, only ever sharing his woes with things, which couldn’t truly help or respond to him. 

“Is that why you like it?” 

Scarecrow thought about it for a moment, before leaning closer, feeling the other's warmth through a layer of blanket's thin fabric, “Th-that’s part of the r-reason, yes.” 

He could tell, that this wasn’t all that important. That it wasn’t what truly plagued the vigilante’s mind, but just as the Bat tended to some of his injuries out of goodness of his heart, Scarecrow didn’t mind to do the same for his mind. However, not because he was a selfless person. Quite the opposite, exactly. 

As there had to be reason why the Bat visited him at all. He didn't do it for all of his enemies. Checking on them through tiny windows inside their cell doors was typically enough.

But with Crane, he was always breaching his space in one form or another. And he did too. As much as possible.

“Y’know, Batman. Sometimes, I feel l-like ya coming ‘ere to hold onto something, that isn’t dead.” he said, and it was a horrible thing to say to him, out of all people. It’s horrible, oh so horrible of him. Jonathan was aware of it, but his tongue seemed to have a mind of its own, “That’s what I think is…sad.” 

The dark knight shifined, but besides that, there was no further reaction. 

So that's how it was going to be, hah? 

Jonathan sighed, before another cough broke free from his throat.

Ah, being sick was really putting a wrench into his performance, wasn’t it? But he supposed, that he could make peace with it just this time around. 

“What are you doing out here all alone? Aren't you afraid of me?” he muttered, a crooked smile graced his lips, even if his eyes fluttered shut once again, savoring the moment, “T-there isn't anyone to help you. Only me. A-and I'm the Beast.”

Oddly enough, the tension in the air seemed to lift up just a notch. The Bat must have been looking down at him, considering his next move. Or maybe just wondering about things that were beoynd Jon's ken.

“Go to sleep, Crane.”

Throwing a towel today, then. 

“Will you s-stay until I fall asleep?” he asked curiously. Frankly, it shouldn’t take him too long to hit the sack as he was already getting fairly sleepy. His hand went to worry the gauze around his wrist, “I’d like —”

Batman reached out, gripping the place just above the damage. Not strongly, but noticeably enough for Scarecrow to pause, unsure what to do about this. 

“Stop that.” 

“I w-wasn’t doin’ anything…” 

The Bat didn’t seem believe him, and he didn’t take his hand away, either. Securing it there. Glove around skin. Jonathan opned his eyes to glance down at it, before craning his neck, and pretty much pressing his cheek to it. If the Bat was insisting on being a pest, he could at least get something out of it. Extra warmth and contact for one. 

He waited for a few seconds, unsure if this was too far and too intimate, dare he say. But Batman didn’t push him away, nor he did anything else. They just remained like that for a moment, then two, then three.

Scarecrow finally let himself settle in properly. 

Darkness moved around them in droves, but even with the chill and burn inside his chest, he was able to find some calmness amidst it all. Perhaps, his good deed wasn’t in vain after all, if this meant that the Bat will take upon such a rotten work as to tend to him in return. 

Even his wrist paradoxically seemed to hurt less. Despite how there was a way larger hand locker around it.

And wasn't that peculiar?

Quite a thought to fall asleep to.

[holylulusworld]

Aahp (5) - Payback is a bitch

Summary: You end up being a pawn.

Pairing: Mobster!Andy Barber x fem!Reader, Mobster!Nick Fowler x fem!Reader, Mobster!Steve Rogers x fem!Reader, Mobster!Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Warnings: angst, mentions of character’s death, mafia business

A/N: It's been quite a while...huh....

Angel and her protectors masterlist

Part 4

“What are we going to do now?” 

The question hangs like a sword of Damocles over their heads. Ready to destroy everything they built over the years.

Fury will have their backs. But will their power and influence be enough to beat Ransom Drysdale, Alexander Pierce, and their lapdogs? You never know in their line of business.

“What not?” Bucky repeats his question. “If Pierce wants another war, we are fucked. We’re not prepared for a war.”

“You are not prepared,” Andy tuts. 

Bucky snarls at Andy. “What do you mean?” 

“While you and your brother were out there, playing hide the salami with as many girls you could find, Steve and I made sure our empire would remain.”

“Hide the…” Bucky snorts. “You know, for a man your age you sound like a gramps sometimes. Stop with your uptight crap. Man, we like to fuck. That’s not a crime.”

“It is, if you ignore your duties,” Andy is ready for a fight. He’s done being the responsible one all the time. “I’m not your dad, you know. I won’t do shit for you all the damn time.”

“You sure sound like my dad,” you yawn while walking inside the living room. While you rub your tired eyes and stretch your body, all eyes are suddenly on you. The shirt Nick gave you rid up, exposing more skin than intended. “He loves to talk about responsibilities and stuff too.”

Andy looks offended at your words. He furrows his brows and puts his hands on his hips. “I’m not that old! Even if I sound like your dad, I’m not like him.”

“I know,” you hastily say, not wanting to anger one of the men keeping you safe…or hostage. You still don’t know if you can trust them. “My dad doesn’t wear a beard nor a gun.”

“That's not a gun. Andy's just happy to see you,” Nick throws in, making all of you laugh. “Andy’s just too shy to admit that he likes a pretty girl like you.”

“Fowler,” Andy grits his teeth. “This is not the time for bad jokes and childish behavior. We are close to a war with not only Drysdale but Piece too. Get a hold of yourself and stop flirting with that girl!”

“What if you'd just let me go?” You murmur, afraid to cause more trouble. “If Ransom is made because you keep me here, we can solve the problem that way. Right?”

“He’s not mad because you are here, Pookie,” Nick gently cups your face. “He’s an asshole first grade. Your ex-fiancé killed his grandfather and took over his business. Now he’s mad with power.”

“Oh—” you hum. “I forgot for a moment that I mean nothing to Ransom.” You give Nick a cracked smile. “What do you want to do with me now?”

“My sweet pookie will stay with me,” Nick declares before anyone else in the room can answer. “I won’t let that bastard hurt you, Y/N.” He whispers your name. 

Andy rolls his eyes. Of course, Nick had to take the chance to hit on you again. “Nick, can you just not? We have urgent things to discuss. You can get your dick wet later.”

“ANDY!” Steve, Bucky, and Nick hiss in unison. “Can you just not ruin any chance we have with Y/N?”

You feel a little lightheaded when the three of them look at you. Uh-oh. They meant what they said. “I-I kind of feel flattered, really…but…uh…I don’t think I can handle four guys. One was already too much to handle.”

Bucky smirks at his brother. “Did you hear, she wants all of us? I knew she was a wildcat and a dirty girl.”

“That’s not what I said,” you sigh. It feels like they don’t even listen to you. Bucky and Steve smirk while Nick possessively wraps his arm around your shoulders. 

Andy on the other hand tries to ignore the pull toward you and to on the upcoming war he tries to prevent from happening. “We should focus on Piece and Drysdale. What are we going to do about their bond?”

“Distrust,” you throw in to get their attention. All eyes are back on you. “You said they want to form a bond and work together. If they do not trust each other, you can use that to your advantage.”

Steve nods thoughtfully. “That’s not the worst idea. Distrust is the poison ruining any relationship. We should try to break their partnership before it can bloom.”

“Can I go then? If Ransom is not interested in me any longer, you have no reason to keep me here. Please just let me go.”

“Pookie,” Nick presses a soft kiss to your temple, “Ransom believes you are with us now. He’ll hurt you only to get to us. We cannot let go. It’s for your own safety to stay with us.”

“Yes or no. Can you fake the footage for us, Jensen,” Andy grunts. “We need to trick these bastards. If Pierce believes Ransom tries to fuck him over, he will end up dead.”

“Let me work my magic. After I’m done with the footage you gave me, Alexander Piece will believe that Ransom tried to conspire against him.”

“Call our problem solver,” Andy raises his hand to stop Steve from talking back. “I know, I know. You don’t like Hansen but he’s reliable. I want him to fake an assassination attempt on Pierce.”

“I didn’t say a word,” Steve shrugs. “We reached the end of the rope. If we don’t want to fight on two frontiers, we must outsmart Drysdale and Pierce.”

Andy smirks. For once his brother gave in without a fight. “Jensen, I want you to open an offshore bank account and transfer money onto Hansen’s fake account. Make it obvious that Ransom transferred the money to pay the killer.”

“If we get rid of them, can I focus on winning my Pookie over?” Nick grins. “I know she wants me to take care of her. She’s too sweet to face this cold and cruel world on her own. I need to protect her.”

“We,” Andy corrects. “We all agreed on taking care of Y/N. She will stay with us. For now, we need to focus on taking Pierce and Drysdale down. 

“Payback is a bitch,” Bucky smirks. “I can hardly wait to watch Drysdale fall. He deserves to end up in the gutter…”

Part 6

More tags in reblog.

Angel and her protectors

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[thewritetofreespeech]

So, Vanitas is feeling completely safe being himself and being completely vulnerable during intimacy, but he still feel self conscious of his facial expressions and the noises he can make without managing to turn them down. Becoming shy when loud whines, high pitched whimpers or gasps are being made.

Could reader then decide that in order to help him gain more self confidence, she would make him ride a pillow for his self pleasure in front of her while heavily praising him. He is embarrassed by his body reaction towards all the act but also likes it. This helped him because her praises help him gain more confidence, by riding the pillow he not only discovers new ways for pleasure/self pleasure with the friction caused but it also makes him let it go once he's completely in it allowing completely himself to make sounds having his overthinking thoughts completely forgotten and with all these combinations he forgets about what expressions his face makes. Riding the pillow with his fiancée talking him through it will make him forget about all the bad experiences he had in the past before her involving sex.

It was the wee hours of the morning. The darkest part of night. If the lights from the city weren’t constantly aglow, you could see all of the stars.

With the way Vanitas was looking out the window, you would think he was trying to see them. But that squint was not a squint. It was a glare, and a pout. “Are you still sulking?” Vanitas huffed, but clearly the answer was yes.

[Y/N] sighed and laid down on the bed beside him. “It’s nothing to be embarrassed about. It happens sometimes with men.”

Vanitas glanced over at her but quickly went back to staring out the window. He was too embarrassed to look at her. Not being able to perform was the worst thing a man could experience. He was an embarrassment, and ashamed as he would never be able to satisfy his partner this way. It had taken him so long to get over his hurdles of intimacy, and [Y/N] had been patient with him, yet now they couldn’t even get to the intimacy part due to his poor performance.

“I know. Why don’t we do some training?”

“Training?” Vanitas questioned them. “I’m not a dog.”

[Y/N] chuckled as she grabbed one of the pillows from the bed. “I know you aren’t, but this will help build up some of your stamina.” She tossed the pillow at him as she sat at the other end of the bed. “Take off your clothes and straddle it. Then rock your hips against the pillow.”

“D-Do what now?” Vanitas questioned. His face a flame.

Just imagining doing something like that was making him lightheaded. To actually do it, in front of [Y/N], that was just too much. “Come on. I think it will help.”

“I….I can’t do that.”

“What if I do it with you?” Vanitas looked up. Seeing [Y/N] already moving to take off her nightclothes and grab another pillow. If she was willing to do it in front of him, Vanitas felt that it would be rude not to reciprocate. He wanted to be a good partner.

Carefully, he removed his nightclothes as well and tentatively straddle the pillow like she was. “There you go. That’s it.” Vanitas felt his face flush at her comment, then watched as she began to move her hips slowly. “We’ll start slow. No need to rush.”

Vanitas copied her movements and began to buck his hips against the pillow as well. It felt awkward. Humiliating. But the more he did it, the more friction it created. The soft material of the pillow’s construction created a nice pocket for his member. While the soft fabric of the pillowcase stroked him. “See. It’s not so bad. It feels a little good right?”

“I…I guess…”

As they continued, Vanitas felt his blush move over his whole body. The embarrassed feelings moving towards the back of his mind as pleasure became the forward thought. “You look so sexy Vanitas.” [Y/N] told him in a breathy voice. Vanitas whimpered, but his hips never stopped. “You look so good like that. Working on your pleasure. Yes. Just focus on that. If you focused on that more while we had sex, I think you would enjoy it more.”

He had to admit, when they were together, Vanitas was in his head a lot of the time. Though he was comfortable with sex now, his past experience with the act and sexual things had been marred with abuse. Even now, he was constantly thinking about what he was doing right or wrong, if he was making too much noise, if she was enjoying it. Vanitas would get so worked up in his head that his cock either wouldn’t work or would work too fast to get it over with.

Now, with no one to focus on but himself, the only thing he could think on was pleasure. “It…It feels good…” He confessed.

[Y/N] smiled at him. Her hand reached out to touch Vanitas’s cheek and he shuttered at the contact of added stimulation. “Good. I’m glad you’re feeling good. I want you to feel good Vanitas.” [Y/N] slid from her own pillow close to him. Still only touching him with her hand at his cheek but close enough to feel her warmth and smell her scent. “Are you close my love?”

“Y-Yes…!” His cock was painfully hard now. Wetting the pillowcase with pre-cum. He could feel himself close to the edge as he continued to fuck the pillow.

[Y/N] leaned forward and gave him a kiss. Heated. Deep. Vanitas moaned into her mouth as his hips sped up. Gasping as his cock finally gave in and he shot all over the pillow & her thigh.

[Y/N] let go of their kiss and smiled at him again. Her thumb brushed over his cheek bone and red lips, seeming pleased by his dazed expression. “See. It’s not so bad to feel pleasure, is it?”

Vanitas shook his head dimly. Still wrapped in his own pleasure, even as [Y/N] pulled the pillow from between his thighs. She cleaned him up and laid him back down. Getting him a new pillow to rest his head on. “What about you?” He asked. Realizing that she probably hadn’t finished like he had.

[Y/N] just tutted at him. “Don’t worry about me.” She said. Kissing his forehead as she settled down. “Being with you is what gives me pleasure. Nothing more.”

[violet-1atte]

Kinktober Day Six: Frottage - Seungmin/Hyunjin

Tags: Dom/sub undertones, light feminization (Seungmin calls Hyunjin "princess"), dom!Seungmin, sub!Hyunjin

AO3 Link

“Fuck, hyung,” Seungmin groaned as Hyunjin attacked his neck wet kisses and soft nips. His fingers clenched the fabric of Seungmin’s shirt and he rutted his hips against his thigh in desperation, little whines and high pitched moans leaving his open mouth as he did so. “What’s got you so desperate?” 

“Just– hah –haven’t gotten you in a while. Need–need you. Need to get off so bad. Seungmin, Seungmin–” 

“Don’t worry, I’ve got you, Princess,” Seungmin said with a soft hum and Hyunjin whined in response. He rubbed soothing circles over Hyunjin’s back as he rolled his hips along his thigh. He could feel Hyunjin’s hard cock dragged along him through the fabric and it was making his own dick harden so fast he felt lightheaded with the blood rushing south.  

“What do you want? We don’t have a lot of time,” he said, and there was a tinge of disappointment in his tone. They’d been so busy lately there had been no time to do anything at all together, so honestly it was no wonder Hyunjin was so desperate. Seungmin was desperate too. He just wouldn’t admit it. 

“Just wanna–” Hyunjin cut himself off with a moan as his hips jerked forward again and Seungmin hushed him. “Can we–can we just–can we get off together? Wanna feel you just–” 

Seungmin loved it when he got to the point where he was struggling to get his words out. He could get so incredibly needy and whiny and it made his stomach buzz with arousal and his heart sing with love. “You wanna rub your pretty cock against mine, Jinnie?” he asked, a smirk creeping onto his face. 

Hyunjin moaned and dropped his head to Seungmin’s shoulder, nodding his head rapidly. 

“Yeah, yes please, please. Please sir,” Hyunjin begged. He mouthed as Seungmin’s shoulder and Seungmin’s eyes fluttered shut for a second as he took in the sensation. 

“Alright then baby, let's take your pants off you then,” Seungmin said. He was sad to have to move Hyunjin away from him but he knew the results would be worth it. 

Hyunjin stepped back just enough for Seungmin to help him undo his pants and pull them past his hips. Hyunjin pushed them the rest of the way down and stepped out of them and then he tugged off his shirt. His cheeks turned red as Seungmin’s eyes ran over his long, bare legs, and then flicked up to his crotch where his cock was so hard it was hanging with the weight. Seungmin licked his lips and fixed Hyunjin with a hungry gaze. He couldn’t be blamed. Hyunjin was delectable . If he could, Seungmin would take so much more time with him, really getting a taste of him. But it would have to wait. 

“Aren’t you just the prettiest?” he asked with a hum, reaching out to rub Hyunjin’s hip. Hyunjin almost stumbled at how fast he melted from Seungmin’s simple touch and praise. “Cute.” 

Hyunjin’s lip quivered with a whimper and he put his hands on Seungmin’s shoulders to steady himself. “Please, sir. I can’t wait.” 

“Alright, I’m sorry baby.” He leaned forward and pecked Hyunjin’s lips. He normally liked to tease Hyunjin a bit, get him so worked up he was crying and begging for his cock. But now wasn’t the time. They were both pent up and he could tell Hyunjin just needed the intimacy of being close to him. 

He pulled down his own pants along with his boxers, tossing them aside somewhere in the room. As soon as his legs were bare, Hyunjin was on him again, not even allowing him to pull off his shirt. He tossed his arms around his shoulders and pulled him into a fervid kiss and Seungmin melted into it. It was more tongue and teeth than anything but it was still so good. Seungmin groaned and tangled a hand in Hyunjin’s long black hair. Hyunjin was already rutted against him, rubbing their hard cocks together as he kissed him. His senses were filled with nothing but Hyunjin, Hyunjin, Hyunjin . He was tasting him, their tongues and lips sliding together with feverish kisses–his moans filled his ears and each sound sent pulses of warmth through his stomach and his cock–and he could feel him absolutely everywhere. 

They stumbled back until Seungmin’s legs hit the bed and he fell back with Hyunjin’s body on top of him. Hyunjin moaned desperately as he rolled his hips forward and his cock slid against Seungmin’s. His cock was wet with precum and Seungmin was sure his was too. It made the slide easier and created an embarrassingly lewd, slick sound. It only intensifies the burning fire in his gut. 

“S-Seungmin–hnngg, Seungminnie , sir– ” Hyunjin whined. Seungmin bit his lip and clenched his fists. Fuck Hyunjin was so–

“That’s it, Princess,” Seungmin said through gritted teeth. He rolled his hips up to meet Hyunjin’s movements and Hyunjin’s breath hitched. 

“Yes, yes .” Hyunjin mewled as their cocks dragged together in a frenzied, sloppy rhythm. It wasn’t coordinated or all that smooth but the friction was so good. He was delirious with pleasure. The heat of Hyunjin’s throbbing cock pressed against his between their bodies made his breath catch in his throat. 

“Fuck, sweetheart,” Seungmin groaned. Hyunjin moaned breathlessly and his chest heaved as he clung to Seungmin’s shirt. His pupils were blown and there was a drop of drool running down from his parted lips. Seungmin didn’t deny himself and listened to his urge that told him to kiss Hyunjin again. He wrapped a hand around the back of Hyunjin’s neck and captured his lips, groaning into his mouth at the way it made Hyunjin’s hips stutter. 

“ Mmfh ,” Hyunjin moaned into his mouth. Seungmin tugged his bottom lip between his teeth and a shiver went down his spine at the whine it pulled out his Hyunjin. He bucked his hips up at the same time he ran his tongue along Hyunjin’s bottom lip and Hyunjin gasps. 

“ Ahh ,” he sighed, eyes rolling back slightly.

Seungmin smiled against his mouth and slid his hands down Hyunjin’s smooth back to grab his hips. He began to guide the rolls of his hips with his own thrusts so that their cocks would glide together with more of a rhythm. Hyunjin arched his back and let out a sound between a sob and a moan. He let Seungmin guide him without any resistance–he always loved it when Seungmin took total control of everything in the bedroom, even his movements. Despite being such a good dancer, once he got needy and desperate like this, all coordination was gone. 

Hyunjin pulled away from the kiss for a moment to breathe and he licked his lips. He looked wrecked even though all they were doing was grinding against each other. “S-so good. ‘M gonna come soon,” he mumbled. Seungmin could feel the way his muscles tensed against his body and he dug his fingers into his hips. 

“Me too,” he said, surprised at how breathless his own voice sounded. “You can come whenever you want, Jinnie. You’re doing so good.” 

Hyunjin keened and nodded. “I’m good, I’ve been good for sir, been so good,” he babbled. Seungmin wet his lips and inhaled sharply. Hyunjin was going to be the death of him. He couldn’t wait until they had more free time so he could really take him apart. 

It wasn’t long before the movement of Hyunjin’s hips became a little more frantic again, even going against the hold Seungmin had on him. Seungmin let him this time, allowing him to chase his release as he lifted his hips to meet Hyunjin’s. He was just as needy as Hyunjin was, no matter how much control he displayed. 

Hyunjin dropped his head to Seungmin’s chest and moaned sweetly in his ear. His hips began to stutter and his moans became louder. “I’m– ah – sir , Seungmin-ah, ahhh , I’m gonna come I’m–” Hyunjin let out a choked moan and he pressed himself closer to Seungmin as he cock twitched between them. Seungmin continued rolling his hips in a languid motion as Hyunjin spilled his cum all over their stomachs, dirtying Seungmin’s shirt. 

“That’s it, Princess, fuck, you look so pretty when you come,” Seungmin groaned. The wet squelch of cum filled the air as Seungmin grinded into Hyunjin’s spent cock. Hyunjin’s eyes glistened with tears from overstimulation and he let out little whimpers, but Seungmin knew just how much he loved that feeling. 

Only a few more moments went by and Seungmin was feeling the tell-tale signs of his orgasm. His stomach tightened like a spring and heat coiled deep inside of him. The pleasure going up his spine was electrifying. All it took was one little movement from Hyunjin and a whispered, “Please, I wanna see you come, sir,” for Seungmin’s mouth to fall open in a silent moan as his hips jerked up and he came all over himself and Hyunjin. 

“Shit,” he muttered. He ran a hand through Hyunjin’s sweaty hair and Hyunjin looked at him with a lovesick smile. “You were so good for me, sweetheart,” he praised. Hyunjin’s smile brightened. 

“You made me feel so good. Always treat me so good.” He sighed happily and wiggled around a little so he could rest his head on Seungmin’s chest comfortably. 

Seungmin’s heart swelled as he looked at him but he cringed at the same time at the feeling of their sticky cum clinging to his body. Not to mention his wet shirt. “Jinnie, we need to clean up. I am not sleeping with both of our cum on me and this gross shirt sticking to me.” 

Hyunjin whined and shook his head. “Just another minute.”

Seungmin sighed softly and looked down at him with a fond smile. “Fine, whatever. One more minute. Then we’re taking a nice, hot shower.” 

“Sounds perfect,” Hyunjin slurred. His cheek was smushed up against Seungmin’s chest and the sight made his heart flutter. 

“Alright. Setting the alarm for one minute.” 

“Aish, Seungmin, now that’s just rude!” 

Seungmin just laughed. “Shh. You’ll be fine, baby. Later, we can spend the whole night cuddling.” 

And they did. 

[btsficsandsuch]

hi! so, i was thinking, maybe a yoongi x reader where the reader is overall a physically weak person,, not that she can’t do stuff but more like she’s frail and things and with the summer and the heat she often feels tired and dizzy— so one day yoongi comes home from a bad day and just finds the chores undone or the dinner’s not ready, or maybe something like that and just blames her for being ‘lazy’ but then she actually tries doing something and almost faints- idk, smth like that! thank you and take your time,, also stay hydrated with the heat and stuff :)

Hope this is okay! Sorry it’s been a few days. I haven’t been feeling great myself. This heat is brutal!

Smoke Alarm

This heat was absolutely killing you. To make matters worse the air conditioning in your apartment was broken and no one could come out to fix it for another week. You tried to do a couple chores around the house but with the heat and humidity you instantly started to feel dizzy and nauseous so you laid in bed with the fan on you trying to cool down. The thought of having to turn on the stove to make dinner in this heat made you sick so you decided that it would be a perfect day to order some takeout. You just had to wait for your boyfriend Yoongi to come home and find out what he wanted to order.

Somehow even in the heat you managed to fall asleep and take a nap but you were woken up when you heard a slamming door. You knew Yoongi must be home and it sounded like he had a bad day. Following the sounds of the slamming you found Yoongi in the kitchen rummaging through the cabinets slamming each one after coming up empty. “Hi Yoongles, How was your day?”, you say timidly trying to test the waters and see just how upset he was.

Your boyfriend turns around and glares at you, “Busy. I have a lot going on. Unlike some people apparently.” You bite your tongue telling yourself he’s just hot and cranky. “I’m sorry your day was so bad. Do you want to tell me what happened?”, you say reaching out to him. He moves out of your grasp. “No Y/N I don’t want to talk about it. I wanted to come home and eat a nice home cooked meal and take a shower and relax but I can’t do that since you couldn’t bother to cook anything. What did you even do all day? It doesn’t look like anything was done around here.”, he replies. Trying your best to stop the tears from falling you reach out once again, “You’re in a building with AC all day. It’s nice for you. You know I can’t handle the heat as well as you do. It’s really hot Yoongi and it’s miserable trying to do anything when the air conditioning isn’t working.” He rolls his eyes before grabbing an apple and storming off to his studio.

Sitting in the kitchen you were starting to feel bad. He had clearly had a terrible day. You knew you didn’t have to do it and Yoongi had told you many of times before this that he didn’t expect you to sit at home and be a housewife but you always enjoyed cooking and cleaning and having a nice home for him to come home to. It was how you showed love.

Looking through the kitchen you found some ingredients to put together a quick dinner deciding that maybe some food will make the both of you feel better.

Within a few minutes of the stove being on you could already feel the temperature in the kitchen rising making your vision blurry. You took your time slicing the onion making sure you don’t cut yourself. The longer you stood by the stove the worse you felt so you decided to walk over to the sink and grab a cool drink of water.

Yoongi had only been in his studio for about 15 minutes and he realized what you meant by it was miserable. He was soaked in sweat and lightheaded. Now he understood why you didn’t want to do anything. He had spent so much time at the company building that had a working ac that he didn’t realize just how miserable it was spending time in the apartment since he had only been there for a few minutes here and there since the ac broke. He knew you didn’t do well in the heat and he started to feel terrible for talking to you like that. You were his girlfriend not his maid. He decided he was going to apologize and the take you out to dinner to get some food in you and get you out of the heat for a while. He was shaken out of these thoughts when he heard a loud whistle going off. It took a moment but then he realized it was the smoke alarm in the apartment.

Yoongi quickly ran into the kitchen finding a pan with burning pork belly and smoke pouring out. He turned off the stove and placed the pan in the sink turning on the cold water before quickly opening the window to let the smoke out. This wasn’t like you at all. You were an amazing cook and you would never just walk away and leave the food unattended. He was finally able to get the smoke alarm to stop and after looking around that’s when he found you. You were passed out on the ground with broken glass and water around you head. His heart felt like it was going to explode.

He grabbed a couple towels and using one to push the glass away from you and the other he soak with some cool water and wrapped it around your neck. “Y/N please wake up. Please. I’m so sorry for what I said. This is all my fault.” He started reaching for his phone to call for medical assistance when he saw you start to stir. “Yoongi, what happened?”, you asked confused as to why you were on the floor. “You passed out at some point. The food burned and it set off the smoke alarm.”, he said while slowly helping you to your feet and walking you to the couch facing one of the large fans towards you. He came back and handed you a cold bottle of water before taking a seat next to you.

“Why would you do that Y/N,? If you didn’t feel good you should’ve said something. I was so worried. What if something happened to you? What if I wasn’t home and the place caught on fire and you were unconscious? You could’ve been really hurt or even worse.”, he said looking to be on the verge of tears. “I’m sorry. I just wanted to make you something for dinner.”, you whispered. Shaking his head he continued, “No I’m sorry. For everything. I had a horrible day and came home and took it out on you. I in no way ever expect you to cook or clean for me. Especially if you’re not feeling well. I’m a grown man and can take care of myself. I should be cooking for you anyways.” “Oh I better get the fire extinguisher ready.”, you quipped. “Hey I’m not the one that almost burned down the apartment today now am I?”, he questioned with a laugh trying to avoid the light punch you threw to his arm.

You leaned into his embrace for a moment before becoming uncomfortably hot. “I’m sorry, I’d love to cuddle you right now but it’s just too miserable.”, you said pushing away from him.”Yeah it really sucks in here.”, he signed. After a few moments of silence he began looking through his phone and after a few clicks he got up and reach his hand out to pull you with him. “Where are we going?”, you asked confused. “I’m not letting you stay here in this oven any more. We’ll stop and get dinner somewhere and then I rented us a hotel for the next week so that you’ll be comfy in the air conditioning.”, he said grabbing your hand.

The two of you packed some clothes and were getting ready to leave when you stopped and looked around. “What’s wrong babe?”, Yoongi asked. “I just feel so gross and I don’t want to go to dinner smelling like sweat. I want to shower but I hate the cold water and it’s too hot for a hot shower.”, you said with a pout. Yoongi walked over wrapping his arms around you, “Well Y/N we could take a cold shower TOGETHER. I’ll warm the water up for you.” Looking up at his smirk you rolled your eyes before taking his hand and leading him to the bathroom. Maybe a cold shower didn’t sound too bad after all.

[akewanchan]

[Break My Case] Adult’s break time "A break in the evening twilight"

Translation by akewanchan. Source is mobile game Break My Case. Magazine Feature: B'sLOG February 2025

A translation for the short story series from B'sLOG for Break My Case. This short story is told from Haruhi Ichikawa's perspective, featuring the rest of Admin Dept.

"A series depicting adults taking a breather from their everyday busy lives. This time, it's about an evening at the Admin Department’s sharehouse♪ Gathered around the kotatsu, Okiya and Ichikawa each have a mandarin in their hands. One of the mandarins that was split in half, is filled with the “trust” that they have built up between them…"

“(Guess this will do.)”

Once I reached a good stopping point while working on a design commission, I stretched out my back and a small crack came from my spine, which hadn’t been moved in a while. I weakly flopped against the back of my chair, thinking how one day my bones might end up snapping from stretching, but then—

The design projected on my monitor had been dyed by a faint touch of orange. 

“(Huh, what?)”

“(Ah… it’s evening.)

Seems like my body had somehow managed to block the light while I was working. Still without lifting a finger, I glanced at the right side of my desktop and saw “16:04” being displayed. Seeing how time had gone by in a flash, and with the added combo of the sun setting early, made it feel as if I spent my day at twice the speed than usual. 

“(In the end, can’t concentrate without eating anything, huh.)”

“(Speaking of that, if there’s something that I can just pop into my mouth and swallow without tiring myself out, then that’ll do.)”

“(Gotta go to the kitchen… Sigh, hate going down the stairs.)”

I left my room taking heavy steps, feeling lightheaded on top of it. 

As I slowly went down the stairs step by step, noises that sounded like a whisk hitting a bowl could be heard coming from downstairs.

“(Ah, Taiga’s back.)”

“(...S’gonna suck real bad if I run into him now. I’ll surrender.)”

Going back up the stairs I got halfway through would be a waste of the time I had spent going down, so I really didn’t wanna do that. Even then, I preferred that waaaaay more over him getting on my case and nagging me— But as I thought that, I had met Sei’s gaze, who was standing before me. 

“Oh my. Had you also come out of your room for a breather, Haruhi?”

“Mh, yeah.”

“What a coincidence. I just so happened to have the exact same idea as you. The more you struggle with meeting a deadline, the more you end up needing to make decisions within an urgent shrinking frame of time. However, since humans are living creatures that get stressed out by decision making, one has to make the call for a necessary break from it all.”

“(Aaah, he’s totally gonna—)” 

“Huh. Sei-san and… Haruhi?”

A voice responded to Sei talking my ear off, and I threw out my plan to turn back out of the window by going downstairs. As expected, Taiga, who had been preparing dinner, looked over at me.

“Haruhi. What do you think you’re doing by leaving your lunch untouched?”

“Was just on my way to eat it now.”

“You do remember that this morning I took the trouble of going to your room to tell you about lunch, right? Geez, stay right there. I’ll whip up something real quick. Sei-san, do you want a bite?”

“I’m fine. It’s already this late, so dinner will suffice.”

“Yeah I don’t need anything either. Let's see…”

“Hm? Stove is on, so be careful when going into the kitchen— Hey, the hell are you searching for in the fridge.”

“There it is. This, I’ll just have this.”

“Ooh, frozen mandarins. In that case, how about we slip into the kotatsu and eat these. A forbidden combination that captivates everyone without a doubt… Perfect for this season, if I must say.”

"Gotcha. I’ll get one for you too, Sei.”

“Mandarins are practically a snack! …No, wait, fruits are nutritious so it should be fine? And neither would it fill you up before dinner…” 

“(Thinking how I’ll be forced to scarf down dinner… Halfsies will do.)”

“(If Taiga eats the other half, then that’ll work out perfectly.)"

Observing how Taiga was conflicted, I slipped through the kitchen gap once again holding the two mandarins that were left. But while I was doing that, I happened to see what he was making for dinner. It was probably that one omelette from before. If I’m not wrong, then I should be able to eat it.

I slipped into the kotatsu with Sei, and by the time my body had warmed up, the outside of the mandarins had softened a little. Putting in as much strength as I could, I split the mandarins with skin and all in two. 

“Uwah, thought my finger would come off for a sec.”

“I will split the other one instead.”

“Thanks.”

And then, before peeling the halved mandarin, I called out to the kitchen. 

“...Taiga, this one’s yours. If you eat it before it thaws.”

“Thanks. But there were only two of ‘em left. So don’t mind me.”

“Uh—”

“Taiga. I don’t believe rejecting his offer is a good move on your part.”

“...What do you mean?”

“A moment ago, with a sidelong glance, Haruhi saw the omelette you are making. Since it is the ever so perceptive Haruhi we’re talking about, he must have realized that it was the omelette from before, the one he could eat as is. Also, it's quite close to dinner time, don’t you think he intends to only eat half of the mandarin because of that? Accepting such kindness is once again, another form of consideration. Isn’t that right, Haruhi. You saw the omelette Taiga is making, yes?” 

“...Um, sure.”

“Eh!”

“Fufu, I said so, didn’t I?”

“...Haha, that’s how it is. Guess I’ll take the other half.”

“(Dude, I mean yeah I did see him making the omelette.)”

“(But it’s not like that’s why I wanted to split it.)”

“(... Well, as long as he takes it, the reason doesn’t matter.)”

Taiga came out of the kitchen and joined us, and all three of us ate the mandarins together.

As I was feeling comfortable from the warmth of the kotatsu, I thought of how I wouldn’t be able to get out of here anymore. 

[scarletwitchproperty]

Can't remember what I used to fight for - Chapter 12

masterlist

Pairing: Agatha Harkness x Rio Vidal x Wanda Maximoff

Words: 2k

Summary: If it wasn't clear enough, we absolutely loath mr Strange in this house (except when he's not being an asshole...which is not often)

Warnings: blood kink (it's Rio's fault), character death, torture (kinda) before said character's death, description of children/teens being in bad shape? (see previous chapter why)

Rio, Wanda and Billy stand on the sidewalk opposite of the Sanctum Sanctorum, ignoring the looks they get from people walking by . They’re not being subtle about their intention either, all three of them dressed like they mean business and staring straight ahead, Rio in her ‘Death’ form, Wanda in her Scarlet Witch attire and Billy in his Wiccan suit, fiddling every few seconds with the crown on his head. 

Billy started to feel lightheaded ever since they stepped foot in the Sanctum’s vicinity, not knowing how to say it to his mother without worrying her. 

‘’So, do we just barge in no questions asked or do we knock?’’ 

Wanda shoots a blast of her magic and destroys the door to the Sanctum, flying in without so much as a glance back to see if Rio and Billy followed her. 

Rio looks at Billy with a smirk. 

‘’Does that answer your question little magician?’’ 

When Rio and Billy get inside the Sanctum, Wanda is already on a warpath. Nobody is around yet despite the noise she’s making, flinging pieces of furniture and artifacts around like they weight nothing with a simple flick of a wrist. Her eyes are full of rage, glowing a deeper red than Billy’s ever seen before. 

‘’STRANGE! SHOW YOURSELF YOU PIECE OF SHIT!’’ 

‘’…is it a bad time to say that I’m so turned on right now?’’ Rio whispers to herself, grinning like the witch she is when Billy fake gags and looks away from her. ‘’What? You weren’t supposed to hear me you little eavesdropper!’’ 

‘’Rio now is not the time to be thirsting for my mom! MY MOM!’’ 

The original Green Witch is about to say something to tease the teenager further but a clear noise, a scream rather, rings out from behind a door and a second later the door is no more, gone, evaporated. In its place now stands Wanda, face stricken by rage and fury, hands glowing with power capable of breaking the entire universe in the blink of an eye. 

The same scream from earlier rings out again and Wanda shoots off like a bullet, leaving in her wake remnants of her chaos magic thankfully leading Rio and Billy to her. 

The Scarlet Witch arrives in a workshop space that she doesn’t even take a second to admire, unaware of everything but the horrifying sound still ringing in her head. Wanda is sure the screams belong to America, it’s a certainty considering what happened a mere fifteen minutes ago. 

‘’Come any closer and the boy goes too!’’ 

Wanda freezes midair, startled by the scene that greets her. 

Doctor Strange is there at the back of the basement, a smirk Wanda immediately wants to wipe from his face (she wants to erase him from existence), floating just as her with his red cloak barely hanging on to his shoulders. It looks like the thing is trying to get away from the Sorcerer but cannot. A pitiful whine rings out once more, the battered teen lying on the floor trying to get Wanda’s attention with the strength she has left. America cannot feel her arms anymore, cannot recall how long ago Stephen Strange snapped them in half. Was she even conscious when he did? 

Wanda’s right eye twitches and her right hand comes up in front of her, a nasty hex right there at the tip of her fingers, the air getting colder as her fury grows. Strange smirks, oozing confidence that only slightly falters when Rio comes into his line of sight, glowering from her place behind Wanda, yet it all comes back when he sets his sight upon Billy barely hidden by both older witches.

‘’Is the Scarlet Witch not powerful enough to get through me on her own?’’ Strange taunts, wild eyes throwing daggers at what he deems to be the weaker link of the trio in front of him, Billy. ‘’Another child taken against their will? My, you really are a monster!’’ 

‘’The only fucking monster I see here is you Sorcerer!’’ Rio screams out, stepping in front of Wanda when her little witch refuses to speak. The red head is frozen, eyes set upon something, someone, floating behind the Sorcerer. Dread fills when she sees the horror reflected in Wanda’s eyes. ‘’How dare you put your hands on a child?! How dare you mess with the balance of the world?!’’ 

‘’What do you know about balance?!’’ Either Strange completely forgot who Rio is, or he has a death wish. Or he is a total idiot. His beady eyes fall upon Billy, looking worse than a minute ago, skin pale as a ghost, the crown on his head flickering in and out of existence. ‘’Feeling a little weak, Billy?’’ 

That sets Wanda off again, the red head crashing into the Sorcerer not unlike weeks ago when he tried to take away Nicky. Only this time the bastard is still smirking as Wanda drags him through the cement floor. He even shoves his right hand up, dangling it in front of Wanda to force her to look at the golden circle wrapped around it. 

‘’What have you done?!’’ Wanda’s hand tightens around Strange’s throat, alas the man still maintains a cocky front. ‘’What did you do to my son?!’’ 

‘’Which one?’’ 

Really, Wanda should not have been weirded out by the question, a fleeting image of Nicky and another of Tommy and Billy inside the hex going through her head, but she was. This hesitation was all it took for Stephen to reverse the situation, flipping their position and pining Wanda against the wall with his forearm pressing down on her throat. 

‘’Are you so content in your delusional life that you’ve forgotten about your second son? About your precious little Tommy?!’’ Strange cackles like a madman at the whisper of desperation in Wanda’s eyes, laughs when she tries to breathe as he slowly cuts off her air supply. He waves his free hand, the one with the golden circle around it, the simple act attracting Wanda’s gaze and inevitably leading her to the form approaching at his back. ‘’SURPRISE!’’ 

‘’Mama! Mama that’s him!’’ Billy gasps as he hangs onto Rio, eyes alight with recognition even as his heart breaks at the sight of the white haired teenager hanging on to life by a thread. ‘’That’s Tommy! Mama!’’ 

‘’What good does it do telling your mother, boy?!’’ Strange yells as he turns his head to Billy, eyes flying over a seething Rio who’s asking herself why mercy won over that day and she let the man stay alive and breathing. ‘’She’ll be gone before you can put your hands on me!’’ 

‘’…Okay that’s enough, play time is over!’’ 

Doctor Strange screams in pain as both of his hands get cut off, the pain so great his vision goes black for a second. He looks ahead as blood rushes out of him, a shriek stuck in his throat as a hand wraps around it and his eyes stare in horror at the dagger drenched in his own blood dangerously coming close to his face. Strange looks beyond the dagger and he immediately regrets it, a feeling of impending doom crashing down on him when he meets the purest and deepest shade of black in the world in the eyes of Death herself. 

While the Sorcerer might’ve stupidly forgotten who Rio was in truth, the rest of the universe didn’t. The warning issued weeks ago, at the time said with not much more thoughts than what Rio had at the moment, was about to come back to bite Strange in the ass. 

You do not hurt people Death cares about without her kindly reminding you that you can politely fuck out of life. In other terms, you can go to hell. Die.

‘’Do you remember who I am now, Sorcerer?’’ Rio says the last words with mockery tinting her voice, as if Strange was nothing but a mere insect under her shoe. Which, to be perfectly clear here, he was. Rio’s dagger cuts a thin line down Stephen’s neck, a trickle of blood adding to the already alarming but deserving amount of the red liquid the man is quickly loosing. ‘’Do you recall what I told you when you tried to take away my son?!’’ 

‘’I don’t-you’re just a really crafty witch is all,’’ and where the hell does that man find the strength to try and act like he’s the higher being when he’s on the verge of dying is anybody’s guess. He bleeds still, the whisper of a smirk at the corner of his mouth vanishing when Rio appears to him in her truest form, his skin blanching by the second. ‘’Wait, no-‘’ 

‘’I am the natural order of all things, Sorcerer,’’ Rio is furious as she gets closer and closer to the poor excuse of a man who tried to hurt what is hers. Yes, Wanda is hers just like Agatha is, Billy (as annoying as the teen is) is becoming hers too just like Tommy will be, and judging by the frantic way Wanda acted earlier America might be hers too in the future. ‘’And right now, the natural order is dictating that your life needs to end for everything that you’ve done. You messed with the wrong people, but rest assured that when you depart from this world, in other terms when you fucking die, you’ll wish you never met me or even dreamed of hurting what’s mine!’’ 

Death’s dagger rips through human skin as easily as if it was paper, piercing through heart, lungs, brain, murder still high on her owner’s mind even when the Sorcerer lays dead and decapitated on the cold hard floor of the Sanctum’s basement. 

Blood dripping all over her skin and clothes, Rio never looked so stunning to Wanda, and so as Death turns to check on her, gentle hands cradling her face like she’s the most precious thing in the world, the Scarlet Witch cannot help but softly press her lips upon Rio’s forehead, and then her nose, her cheek, her neck, the corner of a pair of dangerously delicious lips…

‘’Whatever brought this on little witch?’’ Rio hums pleasingly, heart warming up when Wanda smiles at her. A tentative finger plays with her bottom lip. ‘’What are you smiling for? I’m covered in blood!’’ 

‘’It’s just…You look so fucking beautiful, Rio,’’ Wanda whispers in awe, licking her own lips as Rio nudges her nose with her own. ‘’I just wish you could see yourself the way I could see you.’’ 

‘’And how do I look to you?’’ 

Wanda then does the less Wanda-like thing she’s ever done in weeks. She nibbles her way up Rio’s neck, heart beating erratically in her chest as she grips the older woman’s hips when she reaches her ear. 

‘’Good enough to eat.’’ 

And really, had Billy not fake gaged right here and then to remind them of why they were here, both witches definitely would’ve done something decidedly not kid-friendly together.

Agatha was anxiously awaiting her loves’ return, cuddling up to Nicky still fast asleep in bed. One hour went by without any news, and despite her throat hurting like hell and her stomach doing flips whenever she tried to stand up, the purple witch was about ready to throw caution to the wind and go after Rio, Wanda and Billy when the air next to the bed shimmered green. She blinked and there they stood, two unconscious teenagers floating at their side. Wanda’s tear filled eyes as well as Billy’s was a dead giveaway, but when she noticed the state her wife was in Agatha couldn’t help but rake her eyes up and down her body as she licked her lips. 

‘’And why is my wife covered in blood?’’ 

‘’Well, your…wife,’’ Wanda said as she sat down on the bed next to Agatha, watching as Rio lowered Tommy and America to the floor and checked them over for more cuts and bruises. She laced her fingers through Agatha’s, gaze still locked upon Rio. ‘’ Killed a Sorcerer today.’’ 

‘’Ah, I see…was he the one who hurt your son?’’ 

‘’Yes.’’ 

‘’Then the bastard deserved it. He can rot in hell for all I care!’’ 

One hour later, one six year old and two teenagers fast asleep in bed later and something suddenly dawned on Agatha. 

‘’I was only ever supposed to have one child, why do I feel like I’ve gained three more?’’ 

Oh, only if she knew why little Nicky was so attached to Wanda these days… 

a/n: take the ending as you want, I know where it will lead hehehe *insert evil laughter*