#and I just don’t even know why. all my labs are ‘normal’. fuck labs though because they were ‘normal’ when I had the tumor too

[iliveinprocrasti-nationn]

health issues already fuck up every aspect of life, but if there’s one thing that i thought would be something i treated and then was done with, it was cancer. but it’s haunting me like a fucking vengeful spirit

[sadesluvr]

FEEL. — mickey 17

somewhat inspired by @darkoies doctor c.ai! (NSFW)

w/c: 2.3K

As he felt his body temperature slowly begin to drop, Mickey knew that he’d been cloned again.  

He’d grown to accept that there was nothing like climatising to the perfect 20°C of the lab, sometimes laying there for hours with nothing but a sheet to cover his modesty – only if he’d been lucky enough to be attended to that quickly. Mickey seemed to be reborn in a lab full of people, yet he was always alone. 

Blinking, he fought to adjust himself to the sterile curing lights, expecting to be faced with Dorothy or one of the other scientists. Instead, he was met with warmth; rounder, fuller features staring down at him with a curious look and a gentle smile. He'd certainly never seen you before.

“...Vitals are surprisingly low,” the voice spoke. “Is this normal?” 

Instinctively Mickey opened his mouth to answer, clamping it shut once he realised you weren’t speaking to him, but a fellow doctor across the lab. He hoped you hadn’t noticed. He felt a bit silly. 

“I’m just going to put this in, ok? It’s a small chip to help us track your endocrine system, hormones, endorphins – those kinds of things. You shouldn’t feel a thing, it’s virtually weightless.” You spoke again, eyes occasionally making contact as you glanced down to reassure him, but more focused on dabbing at his skin with a wipe.

Mickey took a short breath, having not particularly grown accustomed to needles throughout any of his seventeen iterations. 

“Uh-huh... Why do I -” 

“All done.” You grinned, withdrawing the tool with a smile.

He couldn’t help but feel somewhat disappointed, selfishly wishing a flare up of some kind, anything that could get him to spend just a few more minutes longer with you. Anything was better than a meaningless afternoon within the four walls of his room. Pursing his lips, he pushed himself to sit upright, allowing for him to get a better view of you.  

“How do you feel?”  

“Fine...” he began, wringing his hands. “Though in my position I’ve learned that’s not much.” 

“I can’t imagine what it’s like to be an Expendable. I admire your bravery,” you began, leaning in, your faces a few centimetres apart. “Chin up.” 

Goosebumps peppered his skin as he felt your breath on his cheek, the warmth of your hands felt even through your plastic gloves as you held his face in place, running a torch over his eyes. 

“It’s not all bad,” he chuckled nervously. “I get to keep my memories.” 

“I don’t know if that’s a blessing or a curse. There are definitely a few things I’d like to forget...” 

“Like what?” he questioned, hoping that you wouldn't find his prying weird. He’d never get this far with any other doctor on the team. 

“Bad hairstyles for one,” you said with a soft sigh, stepping away from the man to enter something into a computer. "My entire college years, amongst other things.” 

“I bet they weren’t that bad,” he shrugged, brushing a wet, messy strand of his mousy brown hair from his eyes. “Nice girls like you definitely had a better time than me.” 

The statement seemed to illicit a smile.  

“Well,” you huffed as you scribbled something down on a clipboard. “Nice girls tend to finish last. That’s why I’m here. Other than the pay, being a doctor on Earth is pretty shit.” 

Mickey grinned, and this time let out a genuine, audible laugh, so unrestrained that his voice broke in the process. You hummed in amusement, presumably at the fact that the man had taken such glee in an offhand comment, before going back to your job and listing some rather important things about the tests being run.  

By that point Mickey had naturally zoned out, having heard all the doctors’ spiel before. What did it matter if hypertension could cause blackouts, heart attacks or death – he would just be reprinted anyway. In a fucked-up way, nothing really mattered... In what he thought would’ve been basic empathy, he hoped you could see him for who he was - less of a crash dummy and more of a human.  

- 

Marshall was fuming.

And by that nature, the whole lab was pissed off with you. 

The past few experiments had been complete failures – not due to misguided hypothesises, but because Mickey was a shitty lab rat. If you could even call him that.  

Over the few weeks that 17 had been cloned, nothing had gone to plan. Half the time, he’d passed out before research could begin, or hadn’t even been deemed fit to work. You’d only seen him in passing, being wheeled about on a table or through plexiglass – but you knew something was wrong…the numbers told you so. 

It was difficult. On Earth there were too many patients for you to really care about them in the way your cared for Mickey, but reading his past files and listening here-say from the other workers was enough to sympathise with him. From what Dorothy had told you, his past iterations had never been so stubborn, which was why it didn’t make sense for him to act up now. 

Arkady thought it to be a fault in the tech, that somehow he’d reprinted wrong…but you knew better.  

It was obvious he’d grown fond of you. You’d caught him staring multiple times, a distant smile dotted across his face as he carved out your visage through the haze of the testing room. Sometimes, he’d even wave. Discreetly, you did back. 

To be fair, you liked him too.

Naturally, it made sense for you to ‘deal’ with him. You clutched your clipboard to your chest as you walked down the empty corridors to a distant room, curtly waving away the guards as you entered. 

The brown haired man perked up, and if you weren’t facing expulsion – or death – from Marshall himself then you would’ve made a quip about it. 

“Oh - I, uh...They just shoved me in here, I have no idea what’s this all about —“ Mickey stammered, eyes glancing around the room frantically as if to search for a source of reason himself. You watched as he shrunk in on himself, seemingly realising from your crossed arms and pursed lips that you weren’t in a generous mood. 

“You shouldn’t be surprised. You haven’t been eating as much. Or sleeping,” you began, shoes tapping against the floor as you strolled towards him. He seemed to be trying (and failing) to divert his gaze from you, eyes as wide and watery as ever, and it occurred to you that it felt like a mean teacher punishing a schoolboy. “They wanted to throw you in the cell, but I convinced them to lend you to me under the name of science.” 

He nodded shyly and peered up at you from his bangs. 

“Our research is compromised if you go into a mission on two hours of sleep and low blood sugar. Then we look bad, and Marshall blows his gasket.” 

Mickey itched uncomfortably, contemplating something before the edges of his lips curved up into a small, jaunty smile. “...Isn’t there some kind of shot for that?” 

“That isn’t the point, Mickey,” you chided, ignoring his silly attempt at a joke. “Not everything can be fixed by a drug. We may be miles away from Earth, but most things are still down to basic biology. You’re still human.” 

The man sighed and cast his gaze to the floor, so much so that you couldn’t help but feel a little sorry for him. 

“I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to get you into trouble with Marshall. If you let me out of here, I’ll tell him it’s my fault.” 

You fought to hold back a small smile. Here he was, essentially a complete stranger – a literal lab experiment - and yet was ready to take a bullet for you. It baffled you as to why nobody else saw the gentleness of humanity in Mickey – probably because no one was willing to give him a chance. Being labelled ‘Expendable’ would do that, all too ironic that he was the most important on the ship. To the whole regime, really.  

“There’s no need to do that...” you hummed. “I’m just annoyed I’ve overlooked things.” 

“…Like?” 

“Happiness, for one,” you began, slowly striding around the room to place your clipboard on a small table. “And attention. We tend to forget that we need it.” 

Mickey swayed his head, seemingly taking in what you were saying as he watched you like a hawk. As if his body had been pulled taught with a string, his back visibly straightened as you stopped in-front of him, your shins touching the tips of his thigh. Swallowing, he angled his head to look up at you, and your gazes met. 

“Be honest with me, Mickey…Did you stop eating just so you could see me?” 

He swallowed again, briefly diverting his gaze before looking back at you, running his tongue over his lips. Mickey was always cute, but he looked especially delectable in this angle. 

“Y-yeah…” he stammered. “I really didn’t mean to get you in trouble —“ 

“Why did you do that? Did you want my attention?” 

“Uh –“ 

“Do you like me?” 

His answered came in the form of a shy nod and an uneasy grip on your legs. In the best way, you were going to ruin him.  

“It’s okay,” you smiled. “You can touch me. I want you to.” 

Reaching out to embrace your torso, Mickey found himself softly stunned as you pulled away, comforted with the sight of you removing your lab coat and aptly peeling off your jumpsuit, discarding it across the cold floor. 

The man wasted no time in latching onto you, rubbing his face over your bare skin as he pressed wet, impassioned kisses against your stomach, making his way passed your bellybutton and towards your underwear.  

You threw your head back as you pulled him closer, placing your hands on top of his as he roamed your body, lithe fingers kneading the shape of your thighs and ass. In any other circumstance, you would’ve been trying to pleasure Mickey – and you were sure you would eventually – but you got the feeling that he only ever wanted to make you happy. 

Your pleasure was his pleasure. He was useful that way. 

Mickey let out a soft whistle from his nose, momentarily pulling away from getting his fix. 

“You smell like strawberries…” he murmured before nestling into you. Who would’ve thought that the perfume you’d grabbed from Earth right before jumping on this metal container would awaken something in him? 

Grinning, a purr escaped your lips as you lowered yourself onto Mickey’s thighs, one hand on his chest as you gently pushed him onto the bed, his back springing up ever so slightly from the recoil. He looked so beautiful like this; all desperate and wanting, eager to taste your lips. 

Pressing your lips against his, you gave him what he wanted. Though you’d never underestimated him, you were rather surprised by how skilfully his lips moved against your own, barely missing a beat as his hands worked your way up to your breasts. 

He let out a moan as he gave them a squeeze through your bra, eyes darting frantically between your chest and the sight below him – your ass grinding perfectly against his bulge. 

“You’re so sweet, Mickey, do you know that?” you teased, popping up to quickly push down his pants. “I hate the way they treat you.” 

“You aren’t like them…” he murmured. “You’re perfect.” 

If it wasn’t for hormones clouding your judgment, your heart would’ve stopped upon questioning the melancholy statement. You’d only treated him as any good doctor would – with respect – and yet he was comparing you to some kind of deity. 

Mickey stopped you with a firm grasp on your forearm, just as you began to reach down into his boxers. You were mildly shocked, almost expecting him to be completely passive in the act, but wasn’t adverse to the offer. In fact you rather liked it. 

“Let me.” He whispered. 

You obliged. 

Mickey let out a loud whimper as he sunk into you, his cock bottoming out in you nicely. He was average sized, but it completed you. You felt every pulse and twitch as you moved your hips along him, coating pink cock in a shiny film. 

He’d pawed at your chest now, popping a breast from inside the material and putting it into his mouth, sucking and licking at your nipple. You moaned at the contact, though quickly but down on your lip to suppress any more noises. At the end of the day, you were still technically a doctor on duty. 

Then again, Marshall was so weird that he’d probably enjoy your gratuitous display – limbs flailing and Mickey’s hair clung to his forehead from ecstasy. The ship was cold, but heat filled your body, tingling from your loins and rising through to your cheeks.  

You were so preoccupied with Mickey’s visual proof of euphoria that you’d barely noticed that his hands had made their way to your lower body, his hands holding the sides of your ass in position as you writhed against him. 

“Shit…” you stammered. “You’re so good…Don’t stop…” 

Naively, the man shook his head, staring up at you with puppy eyes. In an effort to impress you, he bucked his hips up into your wet pussy, squelching sounds louder and prominent than before. He seemed to be hitting your spot effortlessly. 

“Beautiful. God, you’re an angel…” he sighed, his squeaky, yet raspy accent as prominent as ever. He sounded like he was from New York. 

You’d ask him about it some day. 

As Mickey’s pace slowed, and your walls clenched around him, you could tell that you were both close. Honestly, you didn’t know whether you’d flop into his arms or if he would cave in on you, but somehow, even millions of miles from Earth, you grounded each-other.  

[1-800-local-slut]

Jenny bestie hear me out . Reader with the personality and powers of shadow the hedgehog 👀. So she would be an anti hero that refuses to work with anyone but has that romantic tension with main mark grayson . While invincible is trying to convince her to turn over to being a full hero , cecil and the guardians are trying to take out reader but are always failing to do so cause ain't no way they're reaching the ultimate life forms level of power 🤭 . So like basically like headcanons of mark trying to get reader to turn over to the good side while she's basically trying to kill the guardians and cecil losing his mind over not being able to control her .

Hiiii! I loved this, thank you for the request! I hope you can forgive the delay, I've been crazy busy but I'm trying my best lol. Anyways, this is going to be a mix of angst but mostly lighthearted cuz I've been writing way too much serious stuff later. Thank you for the request <3

Warnings: making out, slight angst, homicide attempts, fluff and good vibes, you've literally never been normal a day in your life

Note: Amber and Mark broke up before he goes to see the Thraxan's because I say this all the time: man, stealing is never the move. Also, you were created in a lab here (hence the whole ultimate life form thing) so you don't know everything about yourself, but you escaped to live your own life.

༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺

📯 You and Mark know y'all wanna make out, it would be safer for everyone if you just did it

📯You don't get along with anyone. You're more of a reluctant ally. You help when it serves you. Mark helps when he's nearby, he's gotten better at letting other heroes handle it.

📯But when you do stir up trouble, Mark unfortunately is who they call to try and arrest you. He always fails, of course. He can't physically catch you, and when he does grab you by pure luck and speed then you get terrifyingly strong and put belt to ass. You don't even have to fight him all the time; you just always end up doing so

📯Lowkey they call Mark because the GDA knows you always get distracted by Mark even if you don't know

📯 You can literally escape at anytime but the opportunity to be close to him (even if it’s in a battle) makes your heart beat just a bit harder for some reason

📯 The trash talk? Oh my god, it's amusing to you both and you both like it. Your mouth is more reckless though, so you tend to say crazier shit than him. He loves hates when you explain why he can't beat you for the tenth time in a month.

"You ready to go to jail?!"

"Fuck you, you can't arrest me! I'm the ultimate life form!"

📯 The news is sick of y'all. The Guardians are sick of y'all. The GDA is sick of y'all. William and Eve are sick of y'all.

📯 When you two do get to team up, you both know you like it. You like working with someone who won't sell you out. Mark just likes you. But the other thing is, you only talk to Mark.

📯 When you all went to Mars, you kept your words minimum. Not like your usual sly comments. Mark was so ashamed to realize that he liked you not giving the other heroes the time of day. You kept everything to a brief five words or a 'hm.'

📯 You go back and forth with Mark, and Mark only. Like that’s the only person whose had a kind of conversation with you

📯 Your only actual issue with Mark is that he’s insisting on seeing the good in you. You aren’t exactly an evil person. You’re just more for following your own rules, and you also don’t trust the government.

“See? You can be good! You’re really good at it.”

As you’re carrying a group of wailing and coughing children out of a burning building.

“Their children.” Was all you said, and that was explanation enough.

📯 You don’t really like people. You don’t play nice with others. It’s not exactly your fault. But you tolerate Mark

📯He eventually is able to get you to not mind being around others. You even said 'hello' when walking into a room, but you blamed on being in a good mood for once.

📯 Slowly but surely you two were making progress. Baby steps as they say. You sat next to Rex one time and he went entirely still to avoid somehow irritating you into getting up. You're kind of like an unfriendly cat but when you are friendly it's the best feeling ever

📯 You're even getting along better with Cecil!

📯 You stop just walking out when he's speaking to you

"Piss off. I don't follow your orders."

Before you're skating out the door.

📯 Now you let him talk and just ignore whatever he's saying. Literally everything was great-ish. You and Mark weren't attempting to kill each other every other week; he's kind of like your safe space when you don't want to hang around randoms anymore

📯 Until you had some personal business to attend too, which led to you getting shot with a giant laser. But you're the ultimate life form so that beam felt like a mild sunburn to you.

📯 You aren't stupid, obviously Cecil fired that canon at you. He swore it was an accident "we weren't trying to hit you!" but that didn't really matter to you when he was dangling over the edge of a building

📯 That homicide attempt was an accident. But you don't take threats to your life lightly. It did nothing to you, except singed a few of the red streaks in your dark curls, but you still didn't appreciate it. PLUS the blue haired priss who followed you all the way from your home escaped with her life. You were going to have to see her again thanks to Cecil's interference. Safe to say, you were not pleased

📯 You stopped any type of heroism. Not because of a personal vendetta against the people of Earth, but you just couldn't trust it. Everything was a set up to you. You even stopped talking to Mark.

📯 The man was hurt. He couldn't even call you, he just missed you. You weren't his girlfriend. He shouldn't want to see you, shouldn't want you sitting next to him on a roof top after an arrest. He shouldn't want you the way he does, but absence makes the heart grow fonder.

📯 He missed you. He thought about stopping by your apartment. He thought about appearing in front of you under the cover of darkness and telling you how he feels. But you've been so on edge lately that he knew the second you laid eyes on him things would be different.

📯 Your sharp eyes wouldn't soften just a bit like they usually do. Instead, they would go wide with rage, you'd think it was a set up. He doesn't know your favorite food, your favorite color, he doesn't even know why you call yourself the ultimate lifeform.

📯 But Mark does know you. He knows how when something gets in the way of what you believe, you don't take kindly to it. He knows you stand for what you think is right. Knows how your nose scrunches just a bit when you think something is ridiculous. He knows your beautiful, and knows you know that your beautiful. The way your ruby irises follow your own reflection in mirrors is telling.

📯 And he knows after almost a year of knowing you, when you get paranoid or antsy it's best to leave you alone. So he does, he leaves you to your own devices for you to cool off. You clearly need sometime but you aren't getting that since your back on enemy terms with the government.

📯 It also didn't help when you caught Cecil spying on you, in revenge you attempted to curb stomp him, but Immortal decided that was the time to run a fade. He was quickly silenced, along with Black Samson. Mark's never seen someone use another person as a bat to slap another person, but he was impressed

📯 The girl he liked was currently at war with the government and his friends. Mark was choosing to stay out of it, plus he had to run. Off to save the Thraxans BUT those two months of absence were not fun for you. He saw you before he left though

"Why would I care that you're leaving?" You asked, brushing through your wet curls and spraying leave in conditioner into the plats. He watched as you used your fingers to distribute a hair mask through your hair and rustled through your hair products for a scrunchie.

Mark sighed, leaning against the fire escape of your apartment. For a crap hole building, you fixed it up really nice. It was a crap hole, but you were a pretty good thief. Good enough to steal appliances and furniture enough to cover up the state of the house. He's pretty sure you let your landlord keep living as a form of rent.

He was standing out there, under the stars outside your bedroom window. The brick and glass separating you two felt almost poetic. He would've stayed all night if there wasn't a spaceship waiting for him just five miles away.

For once you were at peace, and you looked so beautiful just calmly sitting and doing your hair.

"I don't know. I know things aren't great between us right now. But I...I don't know. It didn't feel right for me to leave without telling you."

You paused, biting your lip as your red eyes glanced down at the vanity you were sat at. For a moment he imagined you two were different people. Not Invincible and the anti-hero fans have taken to calling 'Streaker' (a name you have no solid opinions on), but Mark and the woman he wants to be with.

"When are you coming back?"

A beat of silence hung through the night. Wind pushed Mark's hair around his head, and the wind pushed through your window and rustled some random receipts on your dresser.

"Soon."

The sharpness of your eyes glanced over to Mark through your mirror, and you swallowed hesitantly. Eyelids fluttered shut before you recomposed yourself like nothing happened despite your obvious dissatisfaction with the lack luster answer.

Your fingers now brushed through a red portion of your hair, applying the cream to it before you finished the final braid and placed a shower cap over your head.

"Try not to die in space."

📯 Mark knew you'd get into it 10x worse with the GDA and everyone. No matter how much they insisted the murder attempt wasn't on purpose, you insisted they should've minded the business that pays them.

📯 Tells Cecil not to provoke you in the meantime.

📯 Mark was right, things got worse. You almost had to move due to how much they were spying on you. The other heroes did not like you; you were a loose cannon to them.

📯 You don't miss Mark (you run by his house sometimes on the way home just to see if he's back, you live the entire opposite direction)

📯 The only person who kind of understood you was gone. 'Soon', turned into two months. Why should you care? Mark wasn't your boyfriend.

📯 You've never imagined what it would be like to wake up next to him. Never thought about ditching all the bullshit and living somewhere peaceful together. Never had a strange dream about having a baby together (or a nightmare where he cheated on you)

📯 OH MY GOD YOU'D FLIP YOUR SHIT IF HE 'CHEATED' ON YOU

��� You're 100% the jealous type over a man who you aren't with. You aren't the type to purposely disrupt his relationships. That's desperate and it NEVER gave that. But you smile just a bit when he fights with his girlfriend before they broke up.

📯 You want Mark to be happy of course. But if it can't be with you, then is he truly happy? You feel bad, it's selfish and you know it. You can't help it though. You two can't be together. You go after something when you want it, but you know who and what you are. You liked Mark too much to risk bruising your ego over a rejection that big

📯 You woke up pissed off for a week, you had a dream he hooked up with some alien broad with three boobs while he was up there and that's what was taking him so long.

📯It didn't matter how much you steeped in your own rage; you couldn't exactly yell at him. And you wouldn't have the right to do so either.

📯You were gonna beat his ass when he got back, how could he disappear for two months? Didn't he think about you? How could he leave you on this planet with a bunch of losers and people you hate for so long? Didn't he know your thread of self-control was already weak? Didn't he know he kept you under control? Didn't he know you needed him??? How could he! (you're literally delusional but it's okay because Mark is delulu over you too)

📯You're mad until you physically see him. You totally planned on whopping his ass for cheating on you in your dream and leaving for two months. But when you saw him, all you could do was nod in acknowledgment of his safe return. In your language you basically just hugged him

📯He appears on your balcony again. But this time things are different. You ushered him into your window.

He looks perfectly out of place. Rocking back and forth on his heels, he stood on the hard floor of your bedroom.

"I'm back."

"I can see."

Then nothing. Mark took the silence to notice something: he never realized that you were really soft on the inside. Well he knew. But right now, watching you paint your nails and inspect your toes, he was coming to an understanding. You were a normal person sometimes. And Mark was attracted to that version of you too.

"Listen, I'm sorry I was gone so long."

He wanted you to be mad at him. To grab him and yell at him just how badly you missed him. He found himself thinking of you every day, dreaming of you every night. You haunted his every moment. The memories of simple conversations, the few times you violated one another's personal space.

In addition to mentally missing you, he had been bone crushingly sad which he feels is fair considering everything he went through in a simple two months. So late at night, he imagined seeking comfort from your body.

Soft touches, eyes meeting, maybe a cheeky grin from you, something more.

"I kept myself busy." you informed him while you took a bite out of your hamburger that sat in a wrapper next to you after capping your nail polish, dragging him out of his dreams of you.

"I heard all about it. You didn't need to blow up that GDA truck you know, I don't know how you accomplished that."

You shrugged but he could see the devastatingly attractive glimmer of pride in your eyes.

"Like I said, I kept myself busy."

📯Now y'all know I'm a hopeless romantic at heart. So, I want to talk about the real romance between you two

📯Mark watches your back. He knows he can't hug you or catch you if you're falling. He can't even imagine you initiating a hug. He's not a touchy guy anyways so it's okay with him that you aren't hanging off of him. But Mark always will have your back

📯He knows you're the ultimate life form even if he has no clue what it means. But he doesn't miss the look in your eyes when he blocks a boulder flying at your head.

📯You get him gifts that aren't gifts. Essentials we'll say. He's bleeding heavily from the nose? You're stuffing tissue up his nose (albeit a bit roughly) before going back to whatever you were doing. He's hungry on a mission? You'll share your last snack with him. He's acting like a man dying of thirst? You're grabbing water from the closest convenience store and handing it to him soundlessly

📯You aren't great with Oliver at any age. When he's a baby you don't know what do with him, he seems to think your glowing red eyes are squishy toys. When he's toddler, he's a smartass and you're not loving it. But you do care for him, you just don't know how to show it.

"What's wrong with your eyes?"

"Oliver!"

"They're in my head, there's nothing wrong with them." You dismissed him while fighting a scowl. For a five-year-old he has a lot of question.

📯"Why are you so fast? Are you faster than Mark? Are you faster than my dad? Do you have a dad? Mark never said you have a dad. Where is your dad? Are you a mom? Are you and Mark dating? Have you two mated yet? How old are you? Can you teach me how to be fast? I'll teach you how to fly! Can you fly? What exactly are you?"

📯Before Mark or Debbie tell him to knock it off. You answer most of his questions though. A few you don't exactly know the answer to, so you just do your best with him.

📯Debbie doesn't know if she likes you. You're not Mark's girlfriend but she isn't blind, she knows her child.

📯The second he sees a beautiful black woman who would rather die before being walked over he's gone.

📯She doesn't judge you; she just can't really get a read on you since you rarely speak. Mark insists you're just nervous about meeting new people. You speak when spoken too but even then, it's hard to get a real sentence out of you.

📯BUT that all changes when you get hit with a car for Mark. A literal car flying at you through the air. You could've dodged it, sure. But you pushed Mark out of the way and the car landed on you with only your skates visible. Your legs flailed around comically, and you angrily told Mark to watch out for himself when he freed you a second later

📯Any woman who is willing to take a hit like that for Mark is alright in her book. She wants Mark to man up and ask you out already.

"She got hit by a car for you!"

"Mom, it's not like that. I don't want to freak her out, of course I like her but..."

"Don't be a scaredy cat Mark!"

"Shouldn't you be asleep?"

📯Okay now for the real juicy stuff: the relationship

📯You confess to Mark one day. Neither of you can get drunk, your body burns through it too fast, and Mark's body will heal him quicker than he can blink.

📯You're comfortable together. Comfortable enough to sit in silence together while everyone celebrates together. Eventually you even let him slightly touch you. No where close to hugging but you do let your skin touch in proximity

📯He wasn't paying attention, but you were stewing in what seems like anger all day. He's the only one who can handle you like this, so you sat with your arms crossed in agitation

"I want to go home." you scowled with the redness of your eyes intensely glowing like hot embers.

"How about we stay for a while, then I take you home." He soothed gently, rubbing your arm but it did nothing to calm you down.

"Why?!" You exploded and Mark jumped at your sudden outburst. The entire room went silent. You looked around, anger and embarrassment  flooding your face. Mark wasn't having the greatest time, but it was still nice to get together with everyone.

"The fuck are y'all looking at?" Before you hopped off the couch and with a streak of red light you were gone.

He followed because you have him hooked. He's never been fast enough to catch you; you tell him all the time he never will be. BUT you do seem to like flowers. He's found you in flower patches before just on a lazy day, lying around doing nothing. He's found you in a specific one in the woods by your house just a few times. The little clearing helps you clear your mind.

When he does find you, you're angrily pacing back and forth on a little worn path. For once not running. You stop once you hear him land behind you.

"What." It came out as a sharp snap, without facing him.

"What's wrong with you today?"

"Nothing's wrong with me. Go away."

"You can tell me."

In a rage you spun around eyes darting around as if looking for something to throw at him in an attempt to repel him. A frustrated huff crossed with an angry shriek was his answer as.

"What the fuck! Just tell me what's wrong, why are you being so difficult?!"

Your shoulders rolled before you stalked to the edge of the clearing with your back to him. He followed because like I said you have him whipped girl.

"I like you. I like you so much it pisses me off! We had a shit day, I got stuck in a sewer drain then you wanted to go hangout with everyone, why? I don't like them people, but I like you and wanted to make you happy. But honestly, I can't force myself anymore, okay?! I can't do it! I can't stand this shit!"

That was the most he ever heard you speak.

"We don't have to hang out with everyone."

"Don't patronize me. Fuck off." You laughed, your voice raw with what sounded like forming tears and your eyes now a dimmer red.

He floated over to you, where you kept your arms wrapped tightly around your body. You fought his arms, his affections. What, did you think he was about to hold you then laugh and say sike?

His eyes followed your face as you squirmed from the warmth of his hands.

"We don't have to hangout with anyone else. I just want to hangout with you."

📯From there you've been insufferable. It's so yucky. You literally don't care about anything else.

📯Remember how I said Mark isn't a touchy guy? I lied. He wasn't touchy before you, but he really REALLY likes touching you. He's always touching you, it's so annoying (you want to live in his skin but you have to stay nonchalant)

📯He's holding your hand, touching the small of your back, forcefully laying his entire body over yours while you try to nap, he might even lick the side of your neck for the fun of it.

📯You hate it (lie) but you get used to it. You even held your hand out for him to hold it once. Hell, you once opened your arms for a hug and he almost bawled.

📯Here's the crazy ass thing: when Mark gets you used to the touching then he can't get you to stop. He can be trying to shit and you're holding his hand

📯Even on the battlefield when you're supposed to be staying focused you were staring at him with those big red eyes.

📯Mark gets to see you being soft and normal and he's fallen deeper in love with you

📯When you wake up from a nap (after being able to sleep with him in the room) and your eyes are so sleepy and soft. You don't want to get up, and you're dragging Mark back into bed with you muttering something like 'no not yet'. Before you put on your makeup, without the sharp wings of your eyeliner, when you remove it and your face has a dewey glow of your skin care

📯Oh his favorite is when you're sleeping. He gets to look at you as much as he wants without you telling him to cut it out.

"What."

"I'm looking at you, I can't stare at my girlfriend?"

"No, what the fuck?" Before you're crinkling your face in disgust and rolling over so he can't look at you anymore.

📯But when you're sleeping, you're so cute. You're face smooshed against his chest, the red of your bonnet slipping (before he adjusts it) to give away to a streak of red hair in the front of your hair under the covers of black hair. You drool just a bit even though you'd never admit that though. You also sleep talk a little and he records it once. If he shows it to you, he fears you'll go feral

📯You like to climb on him. Only in the privacy of your bedrooms. Like if he's sitting, you'll climb onto his lap or neck.

📯You feel safe enough with Mark to be semi-calm with him. You still don't talk much but Mark can really get you talking. You try to fight it and keep it cool, but you just love him. You love him so much that your true self comes out

📯You even laugh, a high-pitched squeal that only comes out when you're truly happy. He always makes you laugh. In fact, you laugh so much that you almost got smile lines from the sheer amount of joy you felt. He's just such a good boyfriend.

📯He's there for you, understands that you don't feel the need to explain where you're from and doesn't push you, doesn't really want to know why you keep running fades with some random blue haired girl

📯Mark supports you no matter how many time's y'all fight he more so just cheers you on

📯You don't give a fuck about other people, you worried about yourself and your man that's it. He could be telling you the hottest tea and you'll fall asleep

📯It's so bad you'll be so out of the loop. Like you know nothing, and you don't care, you just listen because you want to listen to whatever he says even if it's in one ear and out of the other for you.

"Oh my God, I forgot to tell you. Robot cloned himself from Rex because Robot, who wants us to call him Rudy now, likes Monster Girl. But Monster Girl looks nine, literally looks like a little kid and he wanted to crack that, but he says it's okay because they're biologically the same age now? I don't know. I just feel like seeing a nine-year-old and wanting to hit that is so weird even if you're mentally the same age.

Stealing the DNA of a grown man because you think a girl who looks like a little kid likes him is crazy as Hell-"

Before you just pressed a kiss to his lips.

"Can we go back to making out? I don't care about this."

And he's so down bad for you that he has the dumbest grin on his face.

"Okay." With literally the biggest smile on his face, you love the effect you have on him. Then you two are touching each other everywhere. Literally everywhere, you never noticed how big his hands were before they were down your panties, and his fingers were inside of you.

📯Oliver hates how much you two 'mate' it's so gross. You two wanted each other for the longest time, now that you have this man you weren't going to waste the chance to rub up on him.

📯It embarrassed you so bad to not only want someone but ALSO want someone to do crazy shit to you

📯Mark wants you so bad too but you're both pretty busy. Well Mark is, you chose not to partake in society, but you have your own stuff that you do when he isn't around. But that does not stop you two.

📯It doesn't stop him from coming up behind you and pressing his boner into you, running his hands up your stomach and over your breast.

📯Ironically y'all do not have fast sex. I know the whole super speed thing makes it seem like you two would but you two love each other and want to spend as much time together possible. Privacy is very important to you two as well, so there's nothing going on in public. You want to enjoy it, not feel like it's just a cheap fuck and that's it.

📯Mark is just happy he gets to touch you. But no, he also wants to be gentle with you. He lets you take the lead because it makes you comfortable. He's just a man at the end of the day. He's happy to just lay with you. And he knows giving up power freaks you out.

📯So, if that means taking great pleasure in you setting the pace when he does sometimes want to go as fast as he can and watch you lose yourself, he also knows intimacy is a big step for you

📯But you do go fast sometimes. It just lasts long. Lots of screaming. You've gotten noise complaints.

📯He holds you afterwards. He rubs your back but doesn't say much. Over time you get very used to just taking it easy. More comfortable talking about your feelings. But after something like sex where you've just shown him every single part of you, he isn't gonna push you to do something you've just gotten used too. There is comfort in silence.

📯If you did speak or lash out after sex or maybe during then it meant you were upset and needed to talk it out. But Mark knows the less you say the better you're feeling after something like that.

📯Similar to how you two got together. Comfort in silence. Silence in sitting together, feeling each other and rubbing each other's soft skin until someone falls asleep. Usually, you first then Mark follows after making sure you're comfortable.

📯All in all: you two love each other. He's crazy over you, you're crazy in general. It works! You guys are the most sickening couple, you don't care whose around or what's going on you're gonna keep being a hater and stunting on these hoes.

📯You struggle with PDA, at most you'll hold hands, or he'll have his arm wrapped around your shoulder in public. Mark understands and he doesn't need to stick his tongue down your throat in public.

📯You try to get along with everyone a little better for his sake, but Mark knows you have a mutual dislike with almost everyone. Mark doesn't care either. You get along with William, his mom and brother, that's all that matters. Those are the people Mark would take with him on a desert island, he doesn't want no one else out there with him.

📯You become more of a hero instead of anti-hero because Mark won't let you hang vilians upside down in the name of good until police could arrive.

(Okay this is getting way too long y'all so we're gonna pack it up. But I would totally write a short story about this couple. Like a little day trip and when you two finally hold hands for the first time in public. That would be so cute.)

📯Ultimately, Mark loves you. He loves how you refuse to play nice, how you refuse to be something you aren't. He also knows better than to push you. You've been through it of course, but he knows you're trying. For his sake, you try, and he appreciates that. He loves you; he supports you, he's there for you no matter what.

📯You love Mark so much. He keeps you grounded; he doesn't take your anger to heart. You're push people away from fear, but Mark is glued to your sight. You couldn't pry him off of you with a crowbar. He accepts you; he gives you the love you need. You appreciate how he doesn't try to force things with you. He's supportive but lets you figure yourself out and everyone needs that sometimes. He's your safe place, you're his favorite person in the entire world.

[hurtspideyparker]

giving you more domestic Avengers scenes that are so goofy I don't even know how I came up with some of these

The team sitting in the living room*

Clint: *bangs and falls from the ceiling*

Avengers: …

Clint: “there are rats in the vents”

Clint: *walks away like nothing happened*

-

Natasha: STEVEN!

Steve(n) (Rogers): yes?

Steven (Grant): yes?

Stephen (Strange): yes?

-

(Based off an actual interaction I had with my mom)

Natasha: *watching fantasy-esc film* Peter, you are not allowed to watch this

Peter: why?

Natasha: because it has too much gore and sex

Peter: ….

Natasha: ….

Peter: elf sex?

Natasha: no

Peter: minotaur sex?

Natasha: no

Peter: ….

Peter: centaur se-

Natasha: stop

-

Scott: *spinning in chair* I feel like a child again..

Janet: that’s because you are one

-

Peter: *running around the room* I am the ultimate champion!

Tony: did you eat all the gummies again?

Peter: It’s a victory celebration, Tony.

Tony: the game was twenty minutes ago, kid. Calm down.. And get off the wall-

Clint: (in the distance) I bet you ten bucks he gets a sugar crash and Tony has to carry him to bed

Bucky: (next to Clint) I bet Peter will beg some poor, unsuspecting victim to play another game with him

-

Peter: *jumps onto couch*

Steve: please stop jumping on furniture

Bucky: *sighing* he’s not going to stop until he breaks something

Sam: I’m just here for the chaos

Steve: *rubbing his temples* this is exactly why I don’t hang out with you guys

-

Tony: you are being childish!

Clint: am not!

Tony: then remind me what you were doing an hour ago

Clint: …

Clint: *sadly* rode shopping cart down stairs

Tony: exactly. and remind me what happened after?

Clint: crashed into Bruce

Tony: you are a child

-

Scott: *shrinking himself* i bet I could grab Tony’s cookies without FRIDAY noticing

Peter: bet you can’t

Tony: *over the intercom* Scott, if you try, I will launch out into the stratosphere

Thor: *grabbing whole tray of cookies* or we could simply take them

Bruce: *leaving the kitchen* i am not getting involved with this

-

Steve: *walking into the kitchen* why is everything sticky-

Peter: *freezing* uhh.. no reason

Bucky: *about to step into the kitchen* yeah, no *walks away*

Scott: imma just.. head out

Thor: *proudly* I have discovered the joys of maple syrup!

Steve: *sighs in slight relief*

-

Natasha: fuck you!

Tony: fuck me yourself, coward! (source:Pinterest)

-

Thor: *walking into Bruce's lab slowly*

Tony: tell him what you did

Thor: *shamefully looking down* I thought they were normal gummies..

Bruce: what-

Tony: he ate your melatonin gummies again

Bruce: again-? I though I made it CLEAR that the white circular shaped, white, powdered gummies in the medicine cabinet was not just for snacking??

Thor: ...

Tony: *running hand over his face* if he gets overdose symptoms, I'm not taking care of him again

Bruce: Thor, you are older then all of us by thousands of years??

Thor: ..at least they were tasty

hehe very silly, Clint and Peter my beloved doofuses 💕 I love exasperated Steve. I like how u include Scott too, he's so underrated

[multiwreckedmess]

Kinktober Day 24

Prompt: Toys Pairing: bestfriend!Bang Chan x fem!reader   WC: 4.2k Summary: Your ex was jealous trash. Both you and Chan know it, Chan just didn’t know the extent of it. Now he has something to prove.

This is a work of fiction, it does not represent Chan or any Stray Kids member. On top of this it is an 18+ work. For my comfort and boundaries please if you are under age do not interact with this. 

Additional TW/CW below the cut.

CW/TW: Honestly, pretty vanilla. Pet names used include “babygirl” “princess” and “good girl”. There’s a lot of banter and checking in with consent! Vibrator is used. Chan has a big dick. Reader has femme sex organs.

 “I’m sorry-WHAT?” Chan practically yelped, head coming forward and eyes bulging.   “Guys are just like that Channie. As soon as I suggest a vib-”   “No stop pause, I heard you.” He laughs and rocks back into the couch. “Like you know me, I’m insecure but that's…it’s another level.”

 Your cheeks burn. He was right. The entire argument had been childish and should’ve been a red flag. “Well now I’m embarrassed…” you mutter and focus on your drink.

 How had you even gotten here? How had the topic drifted so far from how are you doing to who are you doing and how are you doing them? One vague joke about Chan’s computer habits? Tonight was one of the rare nights Chan did not have his eyes glued to his Macbook, his modern day grindstone - opting to replace the mouse with a bottle of light beer (“it's what athletes drink if they are going to have alcohol”) and the small screen with human company. Your company.

 The process of getting Chan to drop his work for one night was exhausting. He’d been your best friend for a couple years now, ever since meeting late night in the audio lab in college where he’d been similarly glued to the iMacs until the teaching aid kicked the two of you out. One last edit, one more pass, toggling the mute and unmute of the track feverishly asking “1 or 2” like you were at an eye exam. These were the building blocks of your relationship. It wasn’t until a particularly unseasonably warm night during spring break when you finally saw him step out into the world to eat and drink with the common folk. It was that night, drinking tallboys on the campus quad at 4am, that you’d solidified your friendship.

 And still, the topic of sex was never something either of you had brought up.

 There were too many other topics. Video games, anime, and of course music. Hours and hours of trading songs back and forth, studying eachother's reactions intently. watching his face light up in surprise and brow furrow into an intense scour were some of the few times you felt uninhibited joy. It was a cute habit he had, looking utterly disgusted when he was deeply into a song. Chan valued most of all your enthusiasm and positivity. Even if a song wasn’t your style, you’d highlight the aspects that you liked with vigor. Childlike exuberance, it’s what he liked most about your reactions. Sharing songs was like sharing your souls.  So how had you managed to veer into this new unbroached territory?  It wasn’t like you’d never joked about sex. Anyone could tell you though, joking and talking about sex are two very different things. In the process of all of your soul spilling, confessing deep seeded feelings of inescapable loneliness, pondering the crushing finality of the third death (when the world says your name for the last time), and of course the underrated pleasure of a bimbo bop, you’d never really talked about sex. Chan fucked. You assumed as much. You fucked so why wouldn’t he. Chan had even been there for the first moving out breakup you’d ever had to go through. It’s how you ended up as neighbors.  The rocky road started with Chan’s offhanded joke about you being easy to please. It was a frequent flier of jokes that he’d rattle off during friendly banter. Normally an eye roller but tonight you took issue.  “Tell that to my ex,” you took a swig of cider with a grimace. “...or don’t. He doesn’t need another reason to feel inadequate.”  “Inadequate? Bro was like almost 190cm!” Chan laughed.  “Yeah, 190cm and humbled by the suggestion of clitoral stimulation.” You said in a deadpan, staring straight forward. Chan nearly projected his beer straight out onto the coffee table in front of him. “What part of that was so funny? Clitoral?”  Chan sticks out his tongue. “Not funny just…is that why you two broke up?”  You swig and sigh. The details were still fresh in your memory, your last boyfriend. “No. But yes. But no. His inability to make friends with my vibrator was one of MANY issue indicating-”

 The rest of the scene played in slow motion for you, his yelp, his laugh. Your cheeks burning as he shook his head back and forth, eyebrow cocked incredulously.

 “I’m not like that.” Chin tilted down he looks up at you from under his eyebrows. “Aren’t I a guy?”  “All the guys I know are like that, competitive. The viber- it’s, it’s competition.”  “Aren’t I a guy?” He repeats again. “Aren’t I competitive?”

 In the years you’ve known him, the air has never been this tense. You’ve fought but this didn’t feel like fighting. Chan continues to stare at you, waiting for your answer. You gulp.

 “Yes, you are a guy. Yes, you are competitive. Happy? Pleased?”

 He smirks and takes another gulp of beer and swallows hard, pretty enough to be a commercial. It made you nervous. You took another sip of cider in silence.   “Sex is a team sport anyway. Gotta know your real competition.” Chan states out of nowhere with a wink.   You choke on the cider halfway down your throat. Both lungs and cheeks burning you turn to him glaring, “okay Chris. Any other tips for my sex life?”  Chan shrugs. Truthfully he never liked your ex. You’d wanted the two of them to get along so badly, you arranged activities for them that you thought they’d bond over and somehow each time it would end in an argument or as your ex would say “it’s just a conversation, babe. We’re having a dialogue. Man to man.”   Chan hated the way your ex called you babe. He’d mocked him for weeks after your break up just to see a hint of a smile from behind the clouds of anxiety. He hated how your ex would ignore you, leaving your texts unread and unanswered all night. Most of all Chan hated your excuses for him, the list long and winding.   Your patience wears thin waiting for his response and you snap, “how’s your sex life then? Prosperous I hope.”

You didn’t hope.

 He takes a measured pause, another swig, and answers, “I tried like…video call sex?” He fumbles for a term he’s forgotten and is unfamiliar with. “I just kept staring at my own dick like ‘what am I doing? This is so inefficient.’ You know?”   You can’t help but laugh, “unfortunately I do.” A very Chan thought, weighing the efficiencies of phone sex.   “See that’s why tools in the bedroom are friends. Efficiency.” Chan stumbles, visibly seesawing between curiosity and decorum. “So he really never got you off?”   “No. yeah. No.” You look anywhere else. “It’s why i prefer…efficiency.” The word efficiency slips from your lips heavily, laden with new meaning. Both of you pause and take swigs of your respective drinks.   “Bet I could,” Chan says easily, with a shrug of his shoulders.   “Sure,” you shrug back.

At first the words don’t register, what you’ve bet exactly doesn’t hit you.  “Okay, so bedroom?” He stands up, placing the empty bottle on your table. He’s so matter of fact it doesn’t hit you.   “Bedroom?” You look up at him quizzically.   “Or anywhere, if you have something specific in mind.” You tilt your head and squint your eyes further. Chan mimics you, eyes twinkling with glee. “You’ll want towels regardless.”

Oh.

OH.

He bet he could make you cum. Butterflies fill your stomach.

 “Chris, you don’t have to- listen no one has really been able to as well as me myself and my trusty vibrator Even then, no towels necessary just wham bam thank you ma’am.” Your tongue and mind are in two different places, mouth working to dissuade him and brain screaming in need.  The mischievous expression from his eyes migrates to his lips,  “is that a yes?”

 “Chan, it's a losing game. I’ve been doing this for-”

 “Where’s your spirit of competition?” he laughs and braces himself. “It’s a friendly wager. Worst thing that happens is you don’t cum and I buy you something top shelf.” Your hesitation is visibly killing him, as much as he tries to stay cool, calm, and collected. His leg jostles with anxiety. “It really sounds like a win win for you. Unless you don’t-”  “You won’t let this change our friendship right? You can do it and not let that happen?” You purse your lips and exhale, “...promise-”

 Chan launches himself at you like an over excited puppy, “yes anything, whatever you want!”

 Much like you, your bedroom is not exactly ready for this turn to the night. Chan leans on the doorway as you hastily shove the dirty clothes spilling over the edge of your hamper back under the lid. Your night stand is cluttered with skincare and two vibrators charging in the conspicuously cracked open drawer.

 “Don’t say SHIT Chan, “ you whip around, still hunched over with clothes in your fists. “I didn’t think I’d have anyone in here for a while.”   He rolls his eyes and shakes his head with a sigh, you can tell he wants to make a joke and is barely holding it in him. Instead he sits on the edge of your queen sized bed, watching you toss clothes from the top of your dresser into the basket and closet according to their relative states of wear.   “This won’t count against my time, right?” He tries to joke, you narrow your eyes. “Sheesh. Just get on the bed, okay? You won’t cum if you’re too stressed.”   “You’re not going to be able to ANYWAY Chan,” you continue to attempt to neaten your room.   “Yeah if you keep cleaning, yeah, I won't. Now get comfy on the bed please!” Chan enthusiastically smacks the mattress.   You cock your eyebrow, “make me.”   Chan sighs, it’s a simple pair of words, “make me”, and yet they burrow into him. He nods his head and approaches you putting your hips on his shoulder and hoisting you over his back, smacking your ass before setting you down on the bed.   “You done being a brat?”   You look a little dazed but you stick your tongue out at him. He sighs and goes to your bedside table, grabbing your vibrating wand left charging half out of the drawer.   “Chan. CHAN. CHRISTOPHER. That’s CHEATING.” You let him guide your legs outwards, knees pointed up.   “Wahhh, it’s been a second since you used my full christian name. ‘S’not cheating, it’s a partnership.” You wail for comic effect. He smiles a small, crooked half smile, “so, you normally get off with all your clothes on?”

 “Well, actually, yes?” You shrug, “it’s not much mess anyway so…”  “I was hoping to see your pretty cunt but we can start here,” he says, settling into the space between your thighs. Your stomach swooping again. He’d said cunt in front of you before, many times, it wasn’t a shocking word between you. Yet the addition of your…the familiar click of the vibrator interrupts the train of thought. “I’ll admit its easier when i can see the damn thing but-”  It doesn’t take much to have your hips winding. Maybe it's the familiar tool being held in an unexpected hand but the vibration feels more intense the second it sits on your mound. You barely manage to catch a burgeoning moan in your chest. Chan scoots closer on the bed, deepening the pressure on your wand.  “Can I touch you?” His voice is hoarse.  “Over. Yes.”  He nods as he leans over you, a strong hand pushing the edge of your bra down in your shirt, letting just the obviously hardened bud slip free. The rough callous of his thumb catches on the cotton threads of your shirt as he rubs over the tender bump. For you, most of the time you just used your vibrator without thinking too much about anything else. Getting off was no frills, all business. Letting him fondle you even over your clothes like horny teens elevated the entire experience.  “Howzzat feel?” He grins smugly as you bite the inside of your lower lip. Your eyes flick backwards for a second, momentarily losing the veneer of respectability you clung to so desperately. “I want you to tell me. I need you to tell me.”  You collect yourself as much as you can. “Feels real good, okay Chris? Real fucking good.”  “What’s your fastest time?” Chan starts pressing the vibrator harder against you before pulling back. It’s a subtle increase and decrease in pressure but enough to get your toes twitching.  “God-fuck-Chris- I don’t fucking- I don’t know.” Your breathing staggers. This cocky bastard is really going to make you cum that easily. Shoulder blades drawing down, back arching away from the bed, your vision swims for a second before you calm yourself by sheer force of will.  “So stubborn, babygirl!” He cackles. “You don’t wanna let me win this? It’ll feel so good if you just let yourself go. Either way you win, it’s a win-win. Just cum, it’ll feel so good. I promise.”  The spring winds again, the promise of pleasure at the other end of the snap. Your chest rises, he gives a small pinch to your taut nipple. A frankly embarrassingly needy whine hums in your nose.  “God I wanna be in you so bad right now.”  Chan’s earnest confession sends you over the edge. Your legs go numb as your eyeballs roll back in your skull, defense crashing down as the stretched spring snaps back. Wall clenching around nothing you can feel wetness bloom in your underwear. “Sssshhit,” you hiss, twitching with aftershocks as you try to catch your breath. You try to hide how your stomach tenses with every exhale.  “I was better, right?” He’s smug, you can hear it in the sing-song lilt of his voice. It’s difficult to face him fully with your post orgasm clarity beginning to hit. Peaking through one half cracked eyelid, he’s sitting back on his heels, bulge prominent in his pants. Even with your limited vision it’s hard to miss the throbbing mass.  “Different.” Your protracted answer betrays you, unable to trust yourself to keep your tone even and calm. The bed shifts below you. Chan is so close, leaning over you, a whisper away.  Mouth just to the side of yours, hovering, just within the turn of your head. “Wanna bet? I bet you’re fucking soaked right now.”  Kiss me. Touch me. Kiss now. Touch me please. Kiss, touch, fuck, kiss, kiss, kiss, kisskisskisskiss. Your brain is chanting out of your skull, body heating up from the microscopic excited vibrations you’re trying your best to hold deep in your core. “Ha,” you more bleat than laugh. Very uncool. Wheezy airy wanting air escaping from your lungs rather than the even keel chuckle of someone who totally didn’t want to their best friend to fuck their brains out.  Chan’s hand, long having dropped the vibrator, grazes your waistband. “You can tell me to stop if you want me to. But I bet you don’t want me to.” Your breath hitches as they catch and slide over the slick fabric of your underwear. His fingers are more precise than the wand and the already sensitive area is swollen. The sticky remnants of your orgasm cling as he too casually runs a finger along your slit.  You hold your breath and curl your toes.  “Do you want me to?” Chan smirks down at you.  You shake your head no.  “Is that a ‘no, keep going’ or a ‘no, please stop?’”  Deep breath in. “Keep going.”  He smiles, increasing the pressure he’s using to rub your clit with. “Good girl,” he whispers, chest practically touching yours. You can feel the corners of his mouth twitch upwards as you try to hide your gasp of delight. Laughing, he kisses your cheek. “I knew you’d have a praise kink.”  “You’re so fucking cocky.”  Chan shuffles himself off of you. “I’m confident in what I’m confident in,” he shrugs before tugging your pants down over your hips.. “Now babygirl, show me that cute cunt of yours.”  Chan is stupidly strong as he yanks your legs free. The slight rise and fall of your chests less from strain and more from anticipation. Something neither of you had really dared to entertain falling so easily into place.  “Let me see yours first,” you blurt as heat flashes through you.  Brow knitting and shaking his head in confusion, Chan shrugs, “fair enough.”  You’re going to see it. After all these years you’re going to finally see his dick. It’ll be right there, confronting you. You think about all the things you know about your best friend, the blue veins that peak up his vline, his big feet, the foreboding lump in his pants. He’s not a tall guy but that doesn’t mean much in your estimation of him. Black jeans, black underwear hugging his thighs. You take a deep breath, blinking, turning more and more into squeezing your eyes shut.  “Take off your shirt.” Your voice sounds pinched and you’re barely peeking out from between your eyelashes.  Chan isn’t one to flinch at the request, shucking his top in a flash. “I thought you wanted me to go first.”  “I do! I do. I just can’t help but think that everything is going to change after this. Like, we can’t go back from this. And I get scared.”  “I’ll still love you regardless. And if you wanna stop or nah-”  “You’re such a sentimental bastard. Take your cock out, I’m ready.”  He laughs, eyebrows rocketing towards his hairline, a bemused grin creeping slowly into the corners of his mouth. Thumbs hooked on the waistband of his underwear he pulls it down agonizingly slowly, eyes locked on your face. The way your face shifts between excitement and dread is endearing. Truthfully he wanted to prolong the anticipation just to watch you squirm for him, the butterflies invading your gut and making themselves known adorably.  The band crosses over his pubic bone to territory you’d yet seen, neatly trimmed dark hair surrounding the base of his cock.  You let out a tiny involuntary yelp.  Neatly trimmed. Thick. Without all of it being revealed you can already tell its hefty. Veins throb, crossing over the pulsing muscle. A challenge for sure. The shear weighty bounce of it as the enormity of it is revealed is daunting, enough to make any person feel virginal again.  “I’m confident in what I’m confident in,” Chan repeats, languidly fisting his cock to full mast. It’s too heavy to sit all the way up, instead jutting out from him into the open air. “Now do you want me to fuck you with your underwear on or-” pausing for you to interject before he pulls your hips up onto his thighs. A thousand butterflies burst into flames in your chest watching him kiss your knees as he removes your panties.  “Why are you being so tender with me oh my god!” Flames tickle the sides of your face as you giggle, flustered.  “‘Cuz this is going to sting a bit.”

 Oh fuck is that the understatement of the century. You can feel it from the way he rubs the blunt spongy tip of his cock along your folds. From the briefest of catches on your entrance you stiffen below him. Suddenly you’re less nervous about what he thinks of your pussy and more that he’ll not be able to fit. Lodging himself there at the precipice of heaven, he leans back over, resting himself on his forearms to keep himself from completely covering you.

 “It’ll fit, right?” You ask with a hopeful sniff.

 “Oh babe, I can make it fit, don’t worry about that. Just let me take care of it.” Chan angles his hips and lets his shaft glide over your slit. It’s a bundle of muscle you can’t resist grinding against. His forehead rests against your shoulder, his breath soaking into your shirt as he occasionally presses a chaste kiss to your neck.

 Your breasts practically ache for his touch, having felt it muted through the fabric of that same stupid shirt. With an annoyed grunt you struggle to strip it off at first, caged underneath Chan. Its not until he snakes an arm beneath you and lifts your torso that you free yourself of the barrier. Almost as impressive as his feat of strength is the dexterity with which he unclasps your bra. A pang of jealousy echos in your chest, he’s had practice. As if it should really matter to you, if anything it’s only prepared him for this moment.

 His lips are soft against your skin. Every kiss is a small promise of pleasure and harbinger of anticipation as they draw closer and closer to your hardened nipples. “Please, please, please,” you chant in barely a whisper as your back arches to meet him.

 “You want this, right?” He feigns innocence as his lips wrap around you, sucking for a second. Your hips buck upwards into Chan’s resistance, grinding harder with a groan of relief. A strand of saliva bridges the gap between your breast and his grin. His hips encourage your redoubled efforts as he goes in for another nibble, teeth just barely tickling over your sensitive area.

 Holding tight to his back you try to keep him close as you feel that same growing devouring pit of hungry need consuming your gut. “Don’t stop, please, I’m so fucking close.” It’s not so much dry humping anymore as your sex slides over him, pressure placed perfectly over your clit. “I’ll fucking kill you.” You add for good measure.

 His tongue flicks over your nub, hand finally joining to pinch and kneed the other. Chan keeps his hips as steady as he can as you grow erratic, breathlessly using him to get yourself off again. All a part of his plan.

 When you cum you sink your nails into his flesh, the muscles of his back valiant against them. The pit doesn’t go away, instead a ravenous beast wakes to fill the void. “I need it. I need you right now.” You reach down between your thighs to wedge him against your entrance again. “Chris please, please.” It’s difficult to bring yourself to say it, even now nearly blacking out with lust. “God please make it fit.”

 Grabbing a pillow to pull your hips up on, Chan starts to nudge forward into you. “You’re doing so well,” he murmurs. Slowly your walls open to him, pulling him in as the fat tip of his cock breaches the tight ring of muscle. The extra lubrication of your release helps but the stretch itself has you breathing hard into your diaphragm.

 “Chris-Chris- oh fuck- CHAN,” you scramble to hold him tighter as he pulls you apart. Your arms wrap over his shoulders, clinging to your own elbows as you squeeze.

 “You’re almost there, my good girl. Best girl.”

 “Almost?!” You yelp incredulously. “I’m so fucking full! What the fuck. What the fuck.”

 “I can stop-”

 You howl with lust filled rage. “Just shove it in oh my god Chris. Just fuck me. Please god I’m going to die.”

 Your arms bounce as he chuckles at your overdramatics “Your wish is my command, Princess.” Hands holding your hips steady his hips snap against you easily, fullying burying himself. A mighty gasp caves your abdomen, barely whispering curses as you get exactly what you’d asked for. “Hurts right?” He asks sweetly, kissing your cheek. “Let me help.”

 A telltale click.

 Whirring.

 With the white head of the vibrator placed over your clit the pain vanishes immediately. You blink furiously as the thud of your heartbeat sinks into your cunt. In all your years it hadn’t occurred to you to try this. Penetration wasn’t a necessary part of getting off so why would you? “Oh my god.”  Chan smirks.  Your hips move of their own accord, rolling just enough to push and pull him against your walls. “Oh my god it feels so good.”  “Yeah you do babygirl.” Your walls clench around him as your head is thrown back in delicious pleasure. Chan indulges in the easily accessible skin of your chest, kissing slowly between your breasts as he helps bounce you on his cock.  Orgasms roll easily into each other like a pleasant summer breeze warmly surrounding your skin and blending into the universe. It’s hard to tell where one ends and the next begins. Your bodies fit together with ease now, coated in a sheen of comingled fluids. For a moment you feel complete, your mind dulled enough to keep the buzz of thoughts finally silent, relinquishing yourself to waves of pleasure. Chan smiles, looking at your transformed face, slack jawed in open mouthed bliss.  A breath kicks your stomach in as you cum on him again, walls squeezing him desperately. “I’m going to-” he chokes on his words as he fights his own finish. “Wh-” Chan can’t even get the word out before you’re clinging to him again, rutting and fucking him into you. Weaving your fingers up through the hair on the back of his head you tug lightly. The buzz of pain jolts his hips deeply into you, painting your walls deeply with his release. A strangled raspy “shit,” passes his lips before they catch themselves on yours. His cock pulses with refractory releases, your cunt squeezing back in a sympathetic response. Neither of you want to admit you’d really fucked up the friendship.

Sorry the formatting got weird and i’m posting late but uh my other group is having a cb and i’m getting anon hate on main so here we are.

[l0h3ngrin]

Taiga x gn!cat-Reader!

_____________❤️________________

Summary: saw someone on here asking for a cat girl mc one shot with taiga, she gets hit with an anomalous disease and has to work with Sinostra while this is happening! :3 added my own little twist to it though!!

Warnings: Fluff, swearing, crack(?) (idk what you guys call comedy now don’t come for me 💔💔)

______________❤️________________

It’s been a rough day for you, first you have to go on a mission with one of your least favorite houses because they’re batshit insane, they being Sinostra, then you have to fight some weird cat anomaly thats been terrorizing this rich resort by Harajuku going undercover as cleaning staff, and on top of that when the four of you go and capture the anomaly it managed to give you a mean scratch!

Now, it would’ve been nice to say that you successfully managed to catch the anomaly but sadly that isn’t the case. Why? It’s because that stupid fucking red head ATE it. God you’re just so tired but at least you’re back at darkwick. After having Sinostra sign the investigation off for you, you then go to Mortkranken to get that scratch checked out.

On your way there you start feeling a bit off, a bit dizzy like the worlds spinning, quickening your pace you notice that for some odd reason your senses have slowly become stronger, you can hear things clearer, you can smell way better than normal, hell you could almost feel the molecules of air touching your fingertips.

“Augh!” You run into something, rubbing your head to sooth the pain, you look up to notice that you’ve made it to Mortkranken, finally! Opening the door you make a beeline straight to Yuri’s office making sure to knock on the door before entering. “Jiro, I told you to go and send in the report to the headmaster once you’re done with the autopsy, do i have to do everything myself! Im a busy man you know!!” “Ah- actually its y/n..sorry to interrupt you..” you reply shyly.

“Oh.. I-I KNEW THAT!!” Yuri quickly says with flushed cheeks, “anyways what is it that you-“ He freezes mid sentence as he looks at you with his eyes like saucers with the way he stared at you widely, “-want…” you’re confused but you decide to ignore it and just tell him what it is you need. “Well, earlier today during my mission with Sinostra I got scratched by this cat anomaly we where trying to capture, I came here to ask if you could check it out and disinfect it. I know you’re busy but I doubt Romeo would want to help me and Ritsu ran off saying he needed to meet up with some client of his.”

“Y-yeah, I can see that…” you look at him, again confusion written all over your face, but this time you decide to ask him instead of ignore, “what do you mean?” “What do you mean what do I mean? Have you SEEN yourself!” He says as if stating the obvious, “uhm..no..what are you even talking about? Look, if you’re just here to judge me for looking like a mess instead of helping me i’ll go find professor Nicholas to help.” You say huffing, a pout forming on your face, yuri quickly stops you though, “NO! N-no, I’m being serious here!! God why are you so fucking stupid.” He mutters at the end face palming, as he continues “I MEAN look in the mirror!! Like actually! Here!!” He quickly looks around his messy ass office looking for something as you give him a skeptical look.

“AHAH! Here!” You flinch a little from that, but take the mirror he hands to you, it drops to the floor. “Do you see what i mean now?!” He asks (yells) you. You can’t believe this. Picking up the mirror again you look at yourself closely, you have cat ears. You have whiskers. Whats worse of all you realize something tickling your legs, looking down you see a cat tail. “Fuck.” This has to be from the scratch that damn anomaly gave you, theres no other explanation for it! You, again, ask Yuri to help you out with the situation and he does, quickly taking you to his lab and running some tests on you.

_______________❤️_______________

About two hours have passed since that little tragedy, in that time you where given a medication prescribed by the one and only Yuri himself, and once you left you gave professor Moby the signed documents, you both ended up discussing your…current issue for a while and by the end he said he had ANOTHER document that you had to give to Sinostra, more specifically to the captain, none other than Taiga.

Now you where on your way walking to Sinostra, worried about how everyone would react to this new look of yours, especially Taiga, he was probably gonna laugh his ass off, or he might be in a mad mood and torture you by like cutting off your tail or something! Actually now that you think about it, would you be able to feel anything from your tail? Is it now an extension of your body?

After overthinking your way to the casino you finally made it. Making your way through the crowd and ignoring the stares you try and see if Taiga’s anywhere to be seen at one of the booths. After a few minutes of searching you come to the conclusion he must be in his room being weird and menacing or something.

Reaching his door you take a deep breath, heart pounding and hands clammy- jeez when did you even start to get this nervous? Closing your eyes you take one more breath to calm your nerves a bit and knock on the door, “h-hello? Taiga Professor Moby wanted me to have you sign this-“ the door bursts open as you feel someone pull you in and pin you against the door as soon as its shut. “Who the fuck’re you and waddaya want?” You look up to see Taiga quite literally bearing his fangs at you growling. Um okay furry the fuck?

You quickly shake your head to clear your thoughts, “ah- uhm- i’m here because professor Moby wanted me to give you this document to sign!” You say quickly pulling out said document with shaky hands. Looking you up and down, he smirks all of a sudden, “well look at you, what a pretty kitty, came all this way to see me huh?” He backs away from you and sits down on the couch in front of his bed, “c’mere, gimmie that.” He gestures to the documents.

Quickly giving him the papers you take a few steps back to give him space, as he’s skimming over it he steals a few glances from you before he finally signs it. Reaching out for the document he quickly pulls it out of your reach, “nuh uh. Before i give you this yer g’na tell me where i know ya from, got it?” He looks at you expectantly, as you sigh, “we where just on a mission together the other day, theres no way you forgot about me that quickly…i’m dumbass number 2 remember?” He gives a look of realization as he finally remembers, “ OHH RIGHT DUMBASS NUMBER 2 LMAO!! Jeez I couldn’t remember ya with that new look ya got, so you got it to impress me or somethin’ im assuming? Please, relax there I know i’m hot shit but no need to take it to the extreme, i’ll remember ya’ soon enough.” He says with a smirk getting up from the couch. “No, actually- This ‘new look’ is from the anomaly we had to deal with yesterday, it scratched me and I must’ve gotten infected by the scratch seeing as how I look like this now” you say matter of factly

He rests a hand on his chin, “really now? Well whatever the reason may be I still call that you did it so I could notice you, which is totally okay ‘cuz you where pretty hot, and now yer’ even hotter!” Blushing you scoff and turn around so he can’t see you, although your tail seems to give everything away, “w-whatever, if we’re done here I have to go, see you later Taiga.” You begin walking to the door, and as you’re about to place your hand on the handle a hand grabs your wrist and pulls you away, “not so fast kitten, i’m not done with ya’ I wanna play with you a little before I let you go.” Your eyes go wide as you blush even harder at the new nickname he’s given you.

_______________❤️_______________

A/n: hey guyss sorry this one probably wasn’t the best! I literally wrote all of this within the span of like 30-45 mins like just now and its 11pm 😭 im super exhausted, but i hope you enjoyed!! Also tagging the person who had this idea! :)) (thank you for this i was bored outta my mind and i wanted to write something)

(Person who came up with the idea) @everyonesfinaldestination

[cal-daisies-and-briars]

OHHHHH okay YAYY THAT SOUNDS SO GOOD a million(max) 🧬 pls

Also lets do max 🚑 while we're at it bc yayyyy parameddieeee!

-💋

YAY! THANK YOU!

500 for 🧬

---

But she doesn’t need to tell Adriana about that today. That isn’t what today is about. Today is about Eddie. Eddie and his boyfriend’s sister’s spontaneous surprise party invitation. Sophia can keep it limited to that. 

The phone rings several times until it finally goes to voicemail. Sophia sighs and ends the call. Before she can pocket her phone and head back to work, it starts buzzing with an incoming call. Adriana. Sophia rolls her eyes and answers.

“Hey,” she says.

“Sorry!” Adriana’s rushed reply hits her ears, dissonant and overwhelming. “I was cooking, but then the dryer timer went off, and I left my phone on the counter, and I missed your call.” 

“Did you get an Instagram message from someone named Maddie Han?” Sophia asks, straight to business.

“Oh. Uh huh. Yeah, I did.” 

“And?” Sophia asks.

“And what?” Adriana asks. “Are you okay, Soph? You sound raspy. Are you sick?”

Oh, that would be the acrid feeling in her throat.

“I’m fine,” Sophia lies. “Are you going to this woman’s party in Los Angeles?”

“I think it’s Eddie’s party, Soph. He just doesn’t know about it.” 

Sophia understands how a surprise works. She has a doctorate. 

“I know,” she says. “Are you going, Adriana?”

“Uh, I don’t know. She says Eddie wants us there, but… Does he?” 

“Why would she say he does if he doesn’t?” Sophia asks. 

“Why are you asking me if you’re so sure he does?” Adriana retorts. 

Sophia rolls her eyes. “I’ll go if you go.”

“Wait, seriously?” Adriana says. “You want to go? You? You’re not too busy?”

“Wait, no. Correction. I’ll go if you go and if Mom and Dad don’t go.”

“Really?” Adriana sounds skeptical.

“Really,” Sophia says. “I swear.” 

“Well, I don’t know if Mom and Dad are coming.” 

“Okay, well ask.”

“Jesus, why don’t you ask?” 

“I’m at work, Adriana.” 

“You’re literally on the phone with me,” Adriana replies. “There’s probably a basket of kittens bleeding out in the lobby and you’re on the phone with me.”

“This is a family call. Just ask.”

“Fuck… Fine.” 

Sophia waits. She hears Adriana typing. It takes forty seconds or so for Maddie to reply.

“No, they aren’t invited,” Adriana says. “Damn. I mean, that’s good, right? That would be super uncomfortable if they were. After everything. For Eddie.”

Yeah, yep. That would suck. Suck for Eddie. Suck worse for Sophia. That’s the big thing here. Sophia needs to avoid their parents. Eddie’s fuck up is over. Hers is ongoing.

“Great,” Sophia exhales. “Okay, so we should go.”

“W-we?” Adriana stammer.

“Yes, we,” Sophia replies. “Like a sisters’ trip. I’ll get us a nice room somewhere.”

God knows she can afford it. For now. 

---

Not quite 500 for 🚑 but I need to go to bed

---

“It has,” Hen agrees. “But still, I’m sorry. I don’t mean to take any of this out on you. I just miss Bobby and I miss Chim even though he’s right there, and… And I feel bad.” 

“Why?” Eddie asks. “You didn’t do anything.”

“Exactly,” Hen says. “I didn’t do anything.”

“I wasn’t well enough to help in the lab, not really,” Hen says. “And… And I turned down captain. Chim is the one doing all the extra work to hold us together.”

Eddie shakes his head. “Okay, I wasn’t even there at the lab. At least you have the punctured lung excuse. And, fuck, Hen. It’s not your job to hold us together. That’s… That’s a lot. And I think… I think from some of what Buck has said about it, maybe Chim needs that job right now.”

Hen thinks about that. About all the guilt on Chim’s shoulders. About how hard that will ever be to shake, no matter how much logic and therapy he throws at it. Maybe this is what he needs. 

Hen nods. “You’re right.”

“Plus,” Eddie says. “He’s way better than he was the first time.”

Hen laughs. “He’s definitely mellowed out.”

“Thank god,” Eddie jokes. “Texas had its downsides, but… The captain was a normal guy.”

“I’m glad you came back,” Hen says. “Coffee and all.”

Eddie smiles crookedly. “Yeah, me too.”

They pull up to a red light, and Hen looks to the sidewalk, only to see a man walking four massive dogs. Like great dane sized dogs. 

“What’s his deal?” Hen asks Eddie.

Eddie sucks his breath through his teeth.

“He got them in the divorce,” Eddie says. “Wife got the pool boy and the beach house in San Clemente.”

Hen bursts out laughing. And just like that, it’s over. Resolved. Hen feels a bit lighter. A bit more like she can be honest moving forward.

[filmbyjy]

MINESTREAM

SYPNOSIS > Wanting to start a new stream series with his best friends, Jay had a bright idea of playing some simple Minecraft with them. Everything was normal, until he realises there is another person in the call with them. He quickly learns that it was ni-ki’s older sister, (name). Watch how streaming a simple game of Minecraft can dig up some interesting feelings between the main leads.

FOURTY-FOUR – we’re okay now

MASTERLIST | PREVIOUS | NEXT

italics is them speaking in japanese

a/n: this is going to be a slightly long read. not a super long but definitely the longest written chapter I’ve done for this smau. trigger warning (no pun intended): there is mentions of guns

you blinked once, the white light right above you was practically beaming. it causes you to blink a couple more times to adjust to the lighting. once you fully focus, you realised that you weren’t at home. you turned your head to the side and noticed ni-ki was laying his head on the white mattress. his hand holding yours tightly, like you were going to disappear.

ni-ki stirs in his sleep, he groans and slowly sits up. once he realises that you’re awake, he stands up and throws himself onto you. giving you a bone crushing hug.

“oneechan.” his voice was soft, you could hear a little crack in his voice like he was going to cry.

“riki, what’s wrong? i just fainted, little baby.” you pat his back slowly and it only makes ni-ki hold you tighter.

“you worried me. you are my only family here in seoul. mom and dad can’t even come here.”

“yvette and heeseung are here. i’m not your only family.”

“you know what i mean, oneechan.”

you laughed a little, “yes, riki. i know.” ni-ki pulls back from the hug. “where are the others?”

“yvette-chan and heeseung-kun went to buy some lunch.” just as ni-ki finishes his words, the ward door opens.

yvette gasps and she runs over to hug you. “my precious girl, you’re finally awake. you missed lunch and dinner.”

“how long was i out for?”

“about 8 hours? or more?” heeseung says.

“we tossed the flowers out. jungwon and sunoo took a sample piece and are testing things out in their little ‘makeshift’ lab.” yvette explains.

“why do they have a lab?”

“jay hyung is sponsoring them.” ni-ki says.

“but…why though?” you say in confusion.

“don’t question it, they’re in their ‘detective era’ as what they said.” yvette says.

ni-ki shrugs, he snatches the food from heeseung and goes over to the empty chair next to you. “let’s share this, you need all the good food. you’re too thin.” ni-ki pats your head.

“i am not sk-” ni-ki shoves the curly fries into your hand.

“you deserve it.”

you looked in between heeseung, yvette and ni-ki before sighing and grabbing a curly fries. ni-ki snaps a photo of you eating and send it to jay. as for jay, he was busy panicking in his seat as the bus drove them back to the campus. jake smacks jay’s thigh.

“stop it. she’s going to be fine.” jake glares at jay. jay sighs.

“i’m sorry, i just- i’m just worried about her. what if there is some problems. the last time ni-ki texted me, she was still asleep. it’s been 8 hours since then.”

ping!

jay rushes to check his phone. he notices the photo of you eating some curly fries and in a hospital gown.

‘she’s awake, you don’t have to worry hyung.’

jay sighs in relief, he finally settles down on his seat. jake pats the boy’s shoulder.

“she’s awake now. you can get some proper rest. you haven’t slept at all and i know you love sleeping. ni-ki, heeseung hyung and yvette noona are watching her. sunoo and jungwon are doing their little research things so you don’t have to worry.” jake reassures jay.

jay huffs, “okay. i’ll get some rest.” as jay shuts his eyes, there was some smooching sounds behind them and so jake throws an empty plastic bottle at sunghoon.

“shut the fuck up, sunghoon.” jake whispers. sunghoon glares at jake.

“can’t i kiss my girlfriend?”

“makeout in your room when we get back. jay hasn’t slept last night because he was busy worrying about (name). you wouldn’t know because you snuck out to sleep in Nari’s room!”

sunghoon frowns, “fine.” he pecks Nari cheek once and looks out the window. nari sighs.

“sorry, jake.” those innocent eyes.

jake groans, “don’t- oh my god, i see why sunghoon cracks whenever he sees you. you are too adorable for this world. fucking hell, i miss my girlfriend.” he turns around and settles at his seat. he starts to spam lily on his phone.

nari innocently tilts her head in confusion. “hoonie, did i do something wrong?”

“no, baby. you did nothing wrong. jake just misses his girl.”

“you know…maybe we should find a way to let jake visit lily.” nari suggests.

sunghoon notices jake typing to lily. the series of ‘i miss you’ ‘wish you were here’ ‘my heart is incomplete without you’ texts that sunghoon read through the crack in between the seats, it was depressing.

“yeah, let’s talk to yvette about this.” nari smiles and sunghoon pecks her forehead. he mutters a small little ‘i love you’ to her and she lays her head on his shoulder.

jungwon and sunoo burst through the door of the ward with a loud bang. the nurse spins around as she hands you the medicine you were supposed to take. they bow slightly to the nurse as she leaves while glaring at the two boys.

“why did you two burst through the doors like that?” yvette says.

“we found more evidence! sunoo hyung tell them what happened.”

“so i was snooping around and possibly hacked into kaito’s dad’s company database. this dumbass kept all the evidence in a singular folder. all the way from tax fraud to embezzlement. it’s actually insane because the numbers in the account just went from like 10,000 to 10,000,000 real quick.” sunoo explains.

“in won…or.”

“USD. look!” sunoo shows the pdf file that he downloaded. all the different years of bank statements.

“this is perfect but this would only land kaito’s dad in jail. what about that…thing.” yvette says.

“jungwon found some criminal offences and reports made against him. turns out he was a creep and has always been one. he likes to stalk girls, loves being a creep and was very abusive to his exes.”

“holy shit. this is great. we just need to report this to the police and have him deported and in jail!” heeseung says.

“problem is….kaito is off the grid. we have no idea where he is.” jungwon says.

“what do you mean…” you bit your lips nervously.

“he just disappeared. i think he’s about to do something again…which is not good.”

ni-ki stands up, “i am not letting him strike again. he may be one step ahead but we can always be two steps ahead of him. we just need to think like him for a bit and predict his next moves.”

the room falls silent. everyone thought of various ways that kaito could go about his next moves.

“since he already hurt (name) in a way…wouldn’t he go for jay next?” heeseung says.

“that’s possible.”

“aren’t they on the school bus right now?” you asked.

“yeah.”

you had sat up, ready to move out of the bed. ni-ki stops you.

“no, you need to rest.”

“i had enough rest. i’ve been out for 8 hours and it’s not like i was physically harmed. i just fainted. we have to get to campus now and check the bus if it’s fine or not.”

“how about me and yvette go there. ni-ki, how about you settle the hospital stuff for (name) and come with her later on after you get a the green light from the doctor? jungwon and sunoo can you make sure the 02z are fine? like call them or something?” heeseung says.

“on it hyung.” jungwon and sunoo called jake. heeseung and yvette went to the campus.

the bus halts pretty hard. everyone in the bus was flung in their seats. jake’s phone rings and so he picks it up confused as to why sunoo was calling him.

“yo, what’s up?”

“anything happened on your trip back from the camp?”

“not really? the bus did stop pretty hard right now.”

there was small cusses from sunoo, he passes the phone to jungwon. “hyung, where are you guys now? like spot a prominent landmark in the area.”

“uh, i see a scarecrow and large fields? why are you asking me this-” jake’s voice dies down when he sees someone holding a gun. “holy fuck.”

“what? what?”

“it’s kaito…”

“oh fuck.” jungwon says.

“oh fuck indeed. everyone is cowering in fear in their seats. kaito doesn’t see us yet. i need to wake jay up. he’s asleep right now.”

“okay, wait. sunoo hyung is calling the cops. send us your location now.”

“fuck, okay-” jake ends the call and sends his location to sunoo.

“jake, we have to do something about this. this isn’t even supposed to happen…how did kaito get a gun through the borders of korea…” sunghoon whispers to jake.

“i have no idea but sunoo is calling the cops right now. we need to wake jay up.”

“or we could kick that thing’s ass.” sunghoon suggests.

“you’re right but he has a gun.”

“two people are better than one.”

“how about three?” jay says with eyes shut. jake turns to look at jay.

“you weren’t asleep??”

“woke up when you two started whispering. pretend to be asleep. i have a plan.”

“at least tell us your plan?” sunghoon says.

“just pretend to fall asleep. i’ll start counting down and you two follow what i do.” jay explains. jake and sunghoon pretend to fall asleep.

kaito comes closer their seats. he points the gun at jay and slowly walks up to him. just as he was about to shoot, jay kicks him. he falls to the small staircase of the bus.

“open the door, quick!” jay tells jake. jake runs towards the front of the bus and clicks the button, all while jay wrestles kaito. jay pushes kaito out of the bus and sunghoon follows behind tackling him too.

“sunghoon!” nari yells. “be careful!”

“don’t worry, babe. i have everything under control.” just as sunghoon says so, kaito fires the gun in the air. their eyes widened as the witnessed it hitting the side of the bus. “okay, i do not have everything under control.” nari sighs. she runs down the steps and kicks the gun out from kaito’s hand. he groans in pain.

“stupid. attempting to hurt my friend and everyone here.” she steps on his hand. “hope you get punished for your sins in prison. let them cut your hand off so you suffer for eternity in a fucking 4x4 jail cell!”

jay eyes widened, “where did you learn japanese?”

“i took classes in high school but that’s besides the point, where are the cops and please check if everyone inside is safe.” nari says.

“that’s the first time i’ve heard her mutter more than 10 words.” jake says. nari glares at jake and jake flinches. he quickly goes to check if everyone was alright. the police sirens were blasting, coming closer.

kaito struggles in sunghoon and jay’s hold.

“stay still unless you want me to step on your hand again.” nari says. kaito continues to struggle and nari steps on his hand, putting pressure on it.

“okay! okay! please, i beg you. it hurts!” kaito groans. nari stops.

the policemen quickly left their car, they went over to jay and sunghoon. a few of them went up on the bus to make sure everyone was okay and 2 of them picked kaito off the ground. they held him tight so he wouldn’t be able to run away. they led him into the car and shoved him inside.

“we’ll bring him to the police station for questioning and also arrest him. we need one of you or maybe 2 of you to tell us what exactly happened and then we’ll file a report.” the police officer explains.

jake, sunghoon and nari went to follow the police officer into the car. an ambulance comes by and makes sure everyone else was okay. they even arranged another transport so that everyone got home safe. finally, they arrived at the campus. everyone wasn’t doing all too well (considering the incident that happened). jay hops off the bus, he goes to grab his bag, along with sunghoon, jake and nari’s. suddenly, he was pulled into a hug, a tiny figure hugging him tightly and he knew who it was.

“baby.” there were sniffles coming from you. he pulls you back and sees that there were tears streaming down your face.

“you could’ve been shot. why did my life have to turn out like this? i should’ve been involved with you. if i hadn’t fall in love with your stupidly handsome face during a minecraft session then you would’ve have been nearly hurt!” you rambled and rambled. jay wipes the tears falling and tilts your head up.

“hey. i’m fine, aren’t i? i wasn’t harmed. you don’t have to blame yourself.” he bumps your nose against his. you sniffled.

“yeah but-”

“no buts. i’m fine and you are too. both of us are okay so we’re okay. it wasn’t your fault that son of a bitch was insane.” you pout. jay lightly flicks your forehead. “there is no way in hell am i breaking up with you over this. besides, who will take care of our two minecraft cats?”

you whined and buried your face onto his chest. you heard a small gagging sound coming from behind you.

“you two are being too sappy. it’s disgusting.” ni-ki says.

“agreed.” sunoo says.

“i second this.” jungwon adds.

just as ni-ki turns his head to look over at heeseung and yvette, he notices that yvette was patting heeseung’s head. heeseung pouts, his large bambi eyes on display as he tries to look cute and innocent to yvette. “okay, not as bad at heeseung hyung and yvette noona.”

everything was okay now. kaito was going to jail and your relationship was definitely going to take a huge turn after this.

this was perfect…

(well, maybe too perfect. we need more funny time)

taglist[open]: @bldelaine @velvtcherie @shalkeren @kgneptun @yenqa @dammit-jjk @sionshiii @enhaz1 @mrchweeee @ncityzenz @autumn583 @okokok4 @ariadores @n1k1mura @kwiwin @drunkdazeded @justkatey @thatsroug @auesoooo @bunchofroses07 @j4ysluv @heeseungwifeyyy @smouches @bubblytaetae @dimplewonie @brachioanton @blackhairandbangs @heestrawberries @amesification @rizzshimura @y4wnjunz @rainyjy @pkjay @simjyunnie @imtoanonymousforyou @jungwoneez @jeongingf1 @astrae4 @heartswonn @pinkishyngs @heeseungsbabyy @in-somnias-world @ramenoil @wantmatthew @leehanascent @kayyssw @allisonleannn @kim2005bomi @saurxcream @urmomssneakylink @zyvlxqht @honeyboobear @ddazed-lhs @bee-the-loser @sunkislove @glassesyunjin @eleanorheartschishiya @jayjongie @woninluv @artstaeh @jwnghyuns @junissy @svmjaeyun @clairecottenheart @onigirik1 @woniejjang

(bolded can’t be tagged)

[juyeonszn]

CLUMSY

PAIRING ju haknyeon x f!reader

WORD COUNT 6.03k

GENRES smut ﹒fluff

WARNINGS 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, mature language, reader and juhak are bio lab partners, juhak is lowkey a bit of a loser BUT DW HE REDEEMS HIMSELF, mentions of alcohol, a game of rage cage…, he’s down insanely bad, the flirting goes kinda crazy, someone calls the cops, they run from said cops, reader is Nawt wasting any time, pet names (juhak calls reader princess), tbh they’re both switches in some ways, kitchen sex, oral sex (f!receiving), fingering, edging, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, creampie lol

SUMMARY when haknyeon ran into you at a tbz party for the first time, he didn’t think he would fall for you so quickly. or literally. or both simultaneously. but there’s a first time for everything, he supposes.

MORE andddddd here we go 🫡 second fic of the black out or back out collab 🙏 i forgot to link the masterlist in the last one so im gonna link it in this one in case u wanna read any of the others!! ANYWAY i had such a fun time writing this one, any excuse i get to write for juhak, i will take trust <3 if u enjoyed, don’t forget to reblog! and pls check out the other fics so far!!

PERM TAGLIST @winterchimez @maessseongs @itsbeeble @zzoguri @deoboyznet @cloverdaisies @vernyangel

TAGLIST @millksea

SERIES MASTERLIST

Okay. So maybe trying to secure a girlfriend at a party wasn’t exactly Haknyeon’s best idea.

But, hey. You had to give him some credit. At least he was making an attempt. Most of his other frat brothers weren’t even making an effort. They seemed perfectly satisfied with charming their ways into random girls’ pants every weekend. Unfortunately, or fortunately considering he was a gentleman, Haknyeon wasn’t into that sort of thing.

It was just a little embarrassing that Kim Sunwoo’s love life had more progress than his own. Sunwoo was literally the resident loser bitch boy of the TBZ house. How was he closer to getting a girlfriend than he was? It made absolutely no sense.

Ju Haknyeon thought of himself as a catch. He was pretty neat, his room was cleaner than most guys’ his age. He knew how to cook basic meals, again, more than the average college sophomore. His car wasn’t on its last leg. (Cough cough… Kim Sunwoo, I’m looking at you.) He was a decent dude. He supported women’s rights and wrongs!

Apparently that was not enough these days.

“…And I need you to make sure the fridge is stocked completely. I’m not trying to drink my coffee without cream tomorrow morning because some idiot drank it while they were drunk.” Sangyeon commands, typing something furiously on his phone as some of the other guys move around the furniture.

“Bruh, I was in charge of buying everything last time. Why can’t someone else do it?” Kevin groans. Something else that wasn’t Haknyeon’s best idea? Walking into the kitchen during this very conversation. “What about JuHak? He looks like he has nothing better to do.”

“Yeah, whatever. That’s fine. Hak, I’m airdropping you the list.” Sangyeon waves his hand in dismissal, returning to his extensive presidential duties.

The sophomore deadpans, but doesn’t have the energy to argue back. You know, the usual fraternity was just a bunch of rich guys with more money than the tuition of each TBZ brother combined. However, the Tau Beta Zeta house was not your usual fraternity. It really was just a bunch of normal dudes thrown together. Though, Lee Sangyeon ran it like it was the fucking Navy.

Haknyeon accepts his defeat and grabs his things, heading out to the supermarket to shop for tonight’s party. Alcohol duty sucked more than door duty, in his opinion. You were sent out all alone, tasked with bringing back enough liquor and beer to last until early hours of the morning. It was a near impossible mission, unless you were Kevin Moon and good at practically everything in the world.

He pushes around the shopping cart mindlessly, though he knows he’ll have to make another trip. A long sigh leaves his lips as he enters the alcohol aisle. He fills the bottom of the cart with different cases of beer until he thinks he may drop one, and then starts to place things in the basket. He feels like a dumbass hauling it over to the registers, like everyone can see right through him.

He has to remind himself that this is for a good cause, that it’ll be worth it when everyone is enjoying themselves at the party. His actions won’t be in vain. Even after the second trip with another cart full of beer and various liquor bottles, Haknyeon keeps repeating affirmations in his head. This has to be the party.

In fact, he thinks his thoughts have manifested into reality when he sees you walking into the grocery store at the same time he’s leaving. You’re his pretty Bio lab partner. He’s always too nervous to hold a substantial conversation with you, so he settles for the bare minimum, which is unfulfilling small talk during your labs. It’s never what he needs though. Aside from your name, Haknyeon knows nothing about you.

“Y/N?” What he wants right now, however, is to shoot himself in the foot for sounding so unsure.

You glance up from your phone, a smile lighting up your face when you recognize him. “Haknyeon! Hey! What’s up?”

“Last minute preparations for the TBZ party tonight,” he gestures at his shopping cart with pursed lips. “You?”

“That’s so funny that you say that! My friends and I are going—“ You eye his cart with confusion. “Wait, I didn’t know you were in Tau Beta Zeta.”

“Yeah…” Haknyeon laughs awkwardly. “Surprise!”

You giggle, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “I hope you don’t take this the wrong way, but you don’t seem like the frat boy type. Then again, TBZ isn’t your average frat so, I guess that kinda adds up.”

Haknyeon’s not sure if he should take that as a compliment or not, but since it’s coming from you, he decides that he will. The realization that you mentioned you’d be attending the party finally sets in at that same moment. “So, I’ll see you later, then?”

You nod, smile widening. “Yeah, I’m just grabbing a bottle for us to bring with. But I’ll be there. Maybe we’ll bump into each other.”

God, he hopes so. This is the perfect opportunity for him to swoop in and learn everything he’s been dying to know about you. His tongue pokes the inside of his cheek. “I don’t know… I’m a busy man. It might be a little hard.”

That cute little laugh of yours makes another appearance. “I’ll be on the lookout, don’t worry. See you tonight, Haknyeon.”

Ju Haknyeon thinks that he must’ve done something monumental in a past life, like saving a dog from a burning building or stopping a world war. How else would the universe reward him this kindly? All he can do is wave as you maneuver around an elderly couple passing by into the store.

Maybe Kevin Moon wasn’t that bad. And maybe Lee Sangyeon wasn’t as big of a tyrant as he made him out to be. He could actually kiss the ground they walked on for forcing him into alcohol duty. If it weren’t for them, he wouldn’t have ran into you and he wouldn’t have known you were attending the party. Now he has something to look forward to that isn't getting shitfaced.

“What the hell are you wearing?”

Haknyeon looks away from his mirror, Hyunjae standing in the doorway. He has a cringe on his face at the sight of his outfit. It wasn’t the worst thing he’s ever worn, but it was… a bit too much. A black button up and black slacks was admittedly not the best frat party fit. The only good thing he had going for him was his hair that was styled for once, parted so his bangs framed his face nicely.

“This girl I’m kinda into is coming tonight. I need to look irresistible.” The younger explains, arms flailing at his sides.

“Okay, well you won’t accomplish that in this,” Hyunjae snorts, digging through his closet. “If she’s into you too, she won’t care what you’re wearing. Just throw on something you’d normally wear. Like… this! This is nice.”

Hyunjae holds up a black t-shirt and a black-washed denim jacket. Haknyeon hums. It was simple, but also once he put it on he wouldn’t feel like a douchebag, which was the whole goal here. Paired with some khaki cargo pants, he’s found a winner. He begrudgingly thanks his senior for the assistance, shooing him out of his bedroom so he can mentally prepare for the night ahead of him.

He doesn’t even know what to bring up now that he really tosses the idea around in his head. Yeah, he wants to learn more about you and what you’re like outside of your Bio lab, but specifically what he couldn’t say. Haknyeon was starting to feel like a lost cause. He had to clutch up tonight. He had to woo you so much that you had no choice but to fall for his cute face and endearing personality. But how was he meant to do that if he couldn’t even come up with topics to talk with you about?

Maybe he was just thinking too far into things. Perhaps he should just let it all go with the flow. Moving at an au natural pace was probably his best bet in comparison to Sunwoo’s soccer ball plan. (He’s still confused how that worked in his favor.)

Before he knows it, the party is swinging into full effect. This is the first time Haknyeon’s ever been so socially aware of his surroundings. He had a habit of blurring his atmosphere at these things, more interested in getting drunk with his buddies than paying attention to the attendees. As he stands in a corner of the living room, listening to Chanhee complain about treasurer stuff, he watches each and every person who enters the house.

When you finally do walk in, he has to physically stop himself from choking on the beer in his cup, biting the rim of the plastic in a weak attempt to sedate himself. If he thought you were gorgeous before in a pair of leggings and a sweatshirt, he doesn’t know what to call you now. You’re laughing at something one of your friends said, dolled up in a black mini skirt and a black cropped halter top while hugging a bottle of Pink Whitney to your chest. He could probably pass out right here right now.

He almost does, but then Chanhee is slapping his back aggressively. “Wipe the drool off of your chin. God, am I the only one who still has a brain?”

“Shut the fuck up, Chanhee, go cry about your life somewhere else.” Haknyeon dismisses his senior, downing the rest of his drink for some liquid courage. Though he is, he doesn’t want to seem too desperate, so he’s not going up to you this quickly. Instead, he heads into the kitchen to get another drink, rolling his neck like he’s preparing for the biggest win of the century.

It’s as he’s pouring some jungle juice into a fresh cup that you see him. A smile similar to the one from the store graces your features. There was only one person with a back like that, and it was your cute lab partner. You keep an arm wrapped around your bottle, tapping his shoulder lightly. He spins around confusedly, but the expression morphs into pleasant surprise immediately after.

“Pink Whitney? Easy choice,” he points at the bottle in your grasp. “Are you a lightweight, Y/N?”

Your cheeks warm up at the teasing remark. Upon first meeting, Haknyeon’s been an awkward mess around you. You can only assume the confidence stems from the fact that he’s within his element. “That’s for me to know, and you to find out.”

“If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were implying that you want me to get you drunk.” He tucks a hand into one of his jacket pockets, the other bringing his cup to his mouth. He’s unconscious of the source of this sudden bravery, but he prays it doesn’t fade off anytime soon.

“Maybe I do…” You bite your lip, undoing the seal of the Pink Whitney bottle to take a sip. It burns your throat slightly. “I’ve never hung out with a frat boy before. I kinda wanna see what the hype is all about.”

Haknyeon thinks he might pass out again, because if he wasn’t so acutely aware of your entire interaction, he would think you’re flirting with him. Friendliness was a double edged sword in this day and age. But who knows, maybe you are flirting. You showed up with your friends but they were nowhere to be found now. He needed to take advantage of the opening.

It’s around this time that Younghoon and Juyeon are bringing out the fated beer pong table, a crowd already beginning to form nearby. He feels sorry for the poor suckers who have to play Changmin and his girlfriend.

“We should play beer pong!” You suggest, watching the pair of taller guys setting up the cups over his shoulder. Haknyeon can sense the color draining from his face. If it had been anyone else, he would’ve shut the idea down insanely fast, but because it was you, he was genuinely contemplating. Those who went up against the infamous TBZ party beer pong champions were in for a rude awakening, but if you wanted to...

“Uh—“ He starts but then he’s interrupted.

“Yo! Who’s down to play Rage Cage?!”

Juyeon’s voice is somehow louder than the music, carrying into the kitchen where the two of you stand. Haknyeon wasn’t the greatest Rage Cage player, but he enjoyed it a hell of a lot more than beer pong. Especially when he stood beside people who didn’t understand the concept of the game.

You chug some more Pink Whitney, batting your eyelashes up at Haknyeon. “I’ve never played Rage Cage. Is it fun?”

“If you’re next to the right people it can be, but if you aren’t, then it’s a whole lot of drinking. We haven’t played Rage Cage at a TBZ party in a while, but the last time we did Eric Sohn almost had to get his stomach pumped.” He laughs a little at the memory of his friend spending the rest of his night cuddling with a toilet seat. The mental picture overshadows how enticing you look right now.

“Do you think you can teach me?” You ask sweetly, hoping that he takes the hint. He seemed like the type of guy who wouldn’t make the first move unless you forced him to, so it appeared that you had your work cut out for you.

“You wanna play?” He turns to you with wide eyes, almost as if he hadn’t expected you to show interest in the game. You give him a small nod, tucking some hair behind your ear. The truth of the matter was that you were a fucking liar. You’ve played Rage Cage plenty of times in the past. You were actually pretty decent at it, too. You just needed an excuse to spend the night around him.

“We better head over there now. It looks like the table is filling up.” You jab your pinkie in that general direction. Haknyeon blows a raspberry and leads you that way, his hand resting on the small of your back so he won’t lose you in the pack of people surrounding the table.

“Forewarning, my rap sheet doesn’t really read World Class Rage Cage Champ,” he laughs nervously, the anxiety beginning to eat at him all over again. “But I promise, I won’t let you get stacked.”

When Haknyeon said he wasn’t the worst, but wasn’t good at Rage Cage, you took his word. Except he severely overplayed his own skill. Maybe he was just extremely on edge and it threw off his game, but the amount of times he was stacked on was a little comical. At the very least, he kept his promise. You hadn’t got stacked once, but that was also only because Haknyeon would drink for you every time you almost did.

The room is sort of spinning by the time the first game has finished. Playing a drinking game while he’s trying to get to know you better was probably at the higher portion of his ‘BAD IDEAS!!!’ list. If he wasn’t so eager to please and followed along to each of your suggestions, perhaps he’d be having a different conversation. That was not the case, though.

You can’t help but feel a little guilty for the turn out. All you’d wanted was to flirt with your lab partner, possibly end the night with some making out. As it was looking, that’s not the path you were heading down, but rather towards the kitchen for some water to sober him up some. Your bottle of Pink Whitney is long lost, replaced with a bottle of H2O. You hold his chin, tilting it back slightly to pour some into his mouth.

If he hadn’t already had the fattest crush on you, he definitely did now. Pretty and nice? You were the total package. Here you were, nursing him back to sobriety when you could’ve been out and about enjoying yourself with your friends. Up this close, he gets a detailed look at you. It’s so weird for him to think about how much he’s pined after you since the start of the semester, how much he’s admired the face that’s looking at him with this unfamiliar tenderness. He never thought he stood a chance. You know, that whole ‘nice guys finish last’ pick me boy vibe.

“Y/N—” He’s cut short, Juyeon’s voluminous voice resonating throughout the house again, sans the music.

“Everybody who isn’t Tau Beta Zeta, get the fuck out! Someone called the cops!”

Of course. Nobody ever calls the cops on a TBZ party but of fucking course the one time Haknyeon gets shoot his shot with you, someone narcs. He actually thinks he might die. He might keel over and die in the middle of this party while the cops are raiding the place. Lee Sangyeon is gonna be thrown in the back of a police cruiser for letting people drink underage and then send them his way because he bought all of the alcohol. This was just his luck.

Without a word, you grab his hand and drag him out through the back door. You follow the flock of other party goers escaping the wrath of the police. It’s difficult to run in a mini skirt and strappy heels, but you don’t really have room to whine about it. Haknyeon doesn’t know if there’s ever a right time to tell you that you could’ve just gone up to his room, but figures it’s too late when you're hopping the short fence that goes out to the main street of Greek Row.

One would think that he’d sobered up at this point since he was, you know, on the run from the law. Yet for some reason Ju Haknyeon himself doesn’t even know, he’s still feeling the effects of the alcohol, tripping over that stupid fucking fence and falling flat on his face. Thankfully, he lands on the grassy part just before the sidewalk, but it doesn’t make the situation any less embarrassing.

You don’t give him recovery time, pulling him to his feet. He holds a hand to the side of his face that received the harshest of the impact, expecting to wake up to a nasty bruise tomorrow. He’s also unsure where exactly you’re taking him, but is afraid of asking out of fear that you’ll send his ass back to the frat house and have him arrested or something. (He had a bad habit of over complicating situations and coming up with the worst possible scenarios.)

Once the commotion has died out and there’s no one else around, you slow your pace. You turn to face him with a grin, holding both of his hands in yours as you walk backwards. “Are you cool with staying the night at my place?”

Truly, Haknyeon needs to know what act of nobility he committed in his previous life. He needs to go back in time and thank himself for whatever it was. Even with fumble after fumble, he was somehow bouncing back and receiving major compensation for sticking it out. He swallows thickly, nodding dumbly when he realizes he hasn’t given you a proper response.

“Um… Yeah— I mean— yes. That’s fine. That’s totally fine.” He word-vomits, stumbling over his tongue rather than his feet. Being down bad was one of his strongest personality traits. And being clumsy was second strongest, so you don't even have to imagine how terrible a combination of both would be.

The walk to your apartment knocks any lingering inebriation out of his system. He’s entirely too hyper aware of what’s happening as you guide him in that direction. It’s cooler out, the temperature dropping in the nighttime as the end of the semester approaches. If there was another reason to be grateful for this party, it was because he no longer had to worry about not making a move before your last lab together. As much as he despised Biology, he’d take it every day if it meant getting to see you.

He actually feels like he may throw up as you reach your place, his hands sticking into the pockets of his jacket to hide the clamminess of his palms. His nerves are creeping up on him once more, a dark cloud looming over him. He shouldn’t be this jumpy at this point of the night. He should be composed, prepared to sweep you off your feet after spending so much time with you. Why the hell is he sweating bullets right now?

“Welcome to my humble abode,” you curtsy. “Would you like something to drink? Water, maybe?”

“Th-That would be great,” Haknyeon forces out, waddling behind you into the kitchen like a baby duckling following its mother. “You have a nice apartment.”

“Really? Thank you!” You can’t help but giggle at his jitters and the way he keeps rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet. A sense of déjà vu rushes over you when you pass him a cup. “Living alone has its perks, I guess. I like that I don’t have to argue with anyone about how to decorate and things like that.”

“It sounds a lot more enjoyable than living with a bunch of men in their early twenties,” he smiles weakly as he accepts the glass of water from you. “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to how thin the walls are in that house.”

“Do they have sex often?” You ask him bluntly, head cocking to the side almost innocently. He chokes on the water he just sipped, nearly spilling it onto the floor.

“W-What?” He sputters.

“I’m assuming that’s what you’re talking about,” you shrug, facing away from him so you can grab yourself something to drink, also. “We should get back at them.”

You don’t know how many more bones you can throw for him to understand what you're insinuating. Even the frat boy comment you made earlier was intentional. Haknyeon’s mouth goes dry and his eyes widen like a cartoon character’s. What the fuck?

“I’ve never brought a girl back to the house before, because I don’t want them to make fun of me or something— not that I’m saying I would take you back to the house! I mean I just would feel bad if you also got made fun of— not that I’m referring to having sex with you or anything!” The glass in his hands is on the verge of slipping from his grip. “Not that I don’t want to have sex with you— oh my god— um wow, that’s a very lovely fruit bowl you have there I—“

“Hak,” you interject his rambling, wearing a mischievous smile.

The nickname drives him fucking insane. Scratch him possibly dying. If he isn’t dead by the end of the night, he’ll be shocked. Perplexed. Perturbed. Puzzled. Any shock-adjacent synonym you can think of. That will be him. “Y-Yes?”

“Can you shut up and kiss me already?”

Honestly, you don’t have to ask him twice. His lips are on yours in seconds, fingers fisting the material of your skirt at your hips to steel himself. You moan in response to the sheer frenzy behind his actions. It’s so easy to lose yourself in the haste of it; the way you tug at his hair, the blunt edges of his nails digging into your sides, the near clashing of your teeth. He nibbles at your bottom lip, sighing when you allow his tongue to permeate your mouth. He’s content to do nothing but this, kissing you is enough to satiate the desire he’s harbored for you for months. However, with the franticness of your kiss, he knows you want more.

He inches you both backwards until your lower back hits the counter, and then he’s cupping beneath your thighs to hoist you up. His strength sends tidal waves pulsing throughout your whole being, hurriedly pushing the material of his denim jacket off of his shoulders and letting it fall to the floor without a care. Your hands travel south as his lips trail along your jaw and neck, sucking and biting your supple skin wherever he feels fit. He hisses into the dip where your collarbone meets your shoulder when you palm him through his pants.

“Fuck, babe, you want me bad, don’t you?” He mutters into the column of your throat, teeth sinking into the flesh after.

“Mhmm,” you whine, craning your neck to give him more access to the surface. It’s like a switch has flipped in him and it turns you on unbearably. This is what you’ve been trying to coax out of him all night.

Haknyeon pries apart your legs, slotting himself between them so he can sneak his fingers beneath your skirt. His thumb rubs tight circles into your clothed clit, the lace of your underwear damp with your arousal. He connects your lips again, groaning into your kiss when he moves the fabric aside and slides his knuckle through your folds. You buck up your hips, whimpering when he holds them down with his forearm.

“Want more,” you gasp when he applies a bit of pressure to your sensitive bundle of nerves.

“‘More’ what? Use your words, princess,” he instructs, tracing your entrance with his ring finger.

You shake your head because you’re not even sure what it is that you want. You just know that this isn’t enough to quell the hunger burning at your chest. It’s not nearly sufficient to fan the flames in the depths of your heart or the ache in the pit of your abdomen. You need him everywhere. It’s beyond him being your cute Bio lab partner now.

He urges you onto your elbows, pecking the plane of your stomach. He pushes up your skirt and discards your panties, baring you to the cool air of your apartment. Your eyes flutter shut when he kisses your clit gently. Your head is light and airy and it’s like you’re on cloud nine. Haknyeon hums against you, pulling off to scold you.

“Eyes open, baby,” he nudges his nose on your pelvic bone. “Want you to watch me eat you out.”

The moan you release is strained, like it had been confined in the back of your throat for ages until this moment. He flattens his tongue and licks a line from your hole to your clit, suckling the engorged skin and repeating. Your eyelids are heavy, keeping your intense gaze on him as he all but makes out with your pussy. He focuses his mouth on your clit and slips his middle finger into you. He pumps it in and out languidly, setting a rhythm that matches each swirl of his tongue around your clit.

The whole scene still feels unreal to both of you, like you might wake up from a wet dream or something. How was it possible that Ju Haknyeon was finger fucking you on your kitchen counter? Just a couple days ago, you were sitting side by side in your Biology lab, too nervous to initiate a substantial conversation. You’d think it would be harder to slob on someone’s knob than it would be to talk to them while wearing a fuckass lab coat and goggles.

Haknyeon works his forearm up, pinning down your thighs so your cunt is fully accessible. He adds a second finger to the mix, thrusting them at a higher speed and increasing the unrelenting sucking of your bundle of nerves. He can tell you’re creeping closer towards your climax with the way your walls clench around him and your hips continue to jerk up. And considering the kind of person he was, you figured he would aid you rather than hinder you. But you figured wrong.

He slows his assault, removing his mouth from your clit and leaving the stimulation at just his two fingers. You whine, lip quivering when he looks up into your eyes.

“W-Why are you— what are you doing?” You plead, hating the tone of your voice. The tables have turned, with you sitting beside desperation. This is so unlike you— so unlike the usual domineering aura you exude during sex— your body reacting differently to the power falling through the cracks within your grasp.

“Don’t you wanna savor the moment, princess?” He sounds so cocky, a far cry from the wavering confidence you’d always seen out of him. He kisses the skin of your inner thighs, moving closer and closer to the area you need him most, all the while he continues curling and uncurling his fingers.

The precipice of your orgasm is right there, you can almost taste it on the tip of your tongue. But Haknyeon holds it just out of reach, dangling it in your face like teasing a dog with a chew toy. Tears prick at the corner of your eyes, a false sense of hedonism building and building, then slowly ebbing away each time he retracts. You open your mouth, but no sound comes out.

Just when you’ve given up hope, he adds a third finger and wraps his lips around your clit, sucking harshly. The sudden and unexpected intrusion snaps that familiar cord in half, blinding you with white hot pleasure. The groan that escapes from the base of your chest is guttural, echoing throughout the kitchen. You don’t have it in you to worry about waking your neighbors, especially not when you feel the curve of a smile against your cunt, such an uncharacteristic response from Haknyeon.

Your legs spasm as the height of your orgasm calms. You pull him down for a wanton kiss, tangling your fingers in his hair. He laughs at the role swap, hands flat on the counter to hold him over you. “Feel good?”

“So good, Hak,” you murmur into his lips. “Think you can fuck me like that next?”

“So impatient,” he snickers, pecking along your jaw once more. “But since you’ve been so good for me, I think it’s only fair that I return the favor.”

You clumsily undo the button and zipper of his cargoes, pushing them down with your foot. He steps out of them and kicks them away while simultaneously removing his t-shirt. You take your top off and shimmy out of your skirt, raising an eyebrow at the narrowed look in his eyes. “What?”

“Do you have a condom?”

“No,” you poke your cheek with your tongue. “But, I don’t care if you wear one. I’d rather feel you raw, anyway.”

His forehead drops to your shoulder. “God, you’re killing me. Okay.”

He shoves down his briefs and you have to stop yourself from gawking at his size. While he wasn’t the biggest, he was definitely bigger than anyone else you’ve ever been with. He pumps himself a couple times, guiding his length to your entrance and throwing his head back when the tip presses into you. This was really happening, holy shit. Ju Haknyeon was actually having sex with you.

Your toes curl and you stab your nails into your palms to distract from the stinging stretch. He eases into you with the occasional grunt, minding your expressions for any signs of discomfort. When all he sees is your features contorted to display pleasure, he resumes. By the time he’s bottomed out completely, both of you are moaning messes. You feel so full, stuffed to the brim with the weight of his cock.

“I’ve wanted to be inside of you for so fucking long,” he admits, speaking the words into your sticky skin as he drags himself out only to piston back in. The action throttles you a bit, your eyes tempted to roll to the back of your head from how fucking good it feels. You can’t conjure coherent thoughts to properly convey how many endorphins are coursing through your veins.

Haknyeon sets a pace that combines the perfect amount of speed and depth, the tip of his cock brushing that spot deep in your cunt. Your brain is hazy and your vision blurs, hardly able to see anything in front of you. His mouth attaches to the pulse point on your neck, ensuring he bruises the area.

“Y-You’re— fuck— you’re s-so deep, Hak. I can feel you all over,” you wail, bringing one of his hands to tamp your lower stomach. The pressure contributes to the growing tension of your second orgasm, something you know will collide into you with even more exertion than the first.

“Yeah? You’re taking me s-so well, baby. No one else has ever fucked you this good, right?” Sweat beads on his hairline, dripping down his temples with every thrust of his hips and every drive of his cock into your sweet pussy. Even if he really did somehow manage to die tonight, he could do it with integrity. He could go out with the honor of a fallen soldier knowing that he got to experience this at least once in his life.

He hikes one of your knees up to your chest, burying his dick deeper if humanly possible. You arch your back, pushing into his chest to minimize the space between you, antsy at the promise of another release as mind blowing as the last. He brings you to the edge of the counter so you’re now hip to hip. Haknyeon snakes a hand in the middle of your bodies, using his thumb to rub circles into your clit. That stimulation coupled with the depth of his cock encourages the fluttering of your walls, in turn drawing out the state of bliss you’ve been chasing.

Your vision goes blank, stars painting the behinds of your eyelids. A second orgasm crests upon you and evokes a moan so pornographic, it sounds far away from you. It’s a dreamlike euphoria, an almost out of body experience that puts every other orgasm to shame. The surface of your skin is hot to the touch.

“Where do you want me, princess?” Haknyeon asks breathily. In the calamity of your own release, you nearly forgot about his until you register the twitching inside of you. It pauses the static in your ears, returning the volume of the world to its normality.

“Cum inside of me,” you whine, the overstimulation becoming too much to handle. He doesn’t need to be told another time, grip tightening on your thigh as he spills into your cunt.

The two of you stay still for a moment, allowing clarity to flow into your brains. You wince when he finally has half the mind to pull out, his nose scrunching up at the sensitivity. He slides his underwear back on, extremely conscious of how naked he is right now. He has an inkling that you were anticipating that this would happen, because why else would you ask him to stay over tonight? But, he is the Ju Haknyeon that you’ve sat next to this entire semester in your Biology lab. So he couldn’t just march forward without a little overthinking and self deprecation.

“Do you still want me to stay?” His voice has reverted back to that small, unsure tone. You sit up quickly, alarmed by the twinge of disappointment underneath it.

“Of course, I do,” you pout, kissing his cheek and lacing your fingers together. “I’ve had a crush on you since the beginning of the year, Hak. Sure, maybe I skipped a couple steps in between, but I have wanted this so badly— I have wanted you so badly— for you don’t even know how long.”

He chuckles, tucking some hair behind your ear. He leaves a sweet kiss on your lips, softer and gentler than the ones from earlier that night. He’s intentional with the way he glides them in harmony, like he was following the melody of the most beautiful song. “Oh trust me, I think I have an idea.”

© juyeonszn. do not steal, claim, or repost.

[causeimcrayzeebee]

wow. chapter 3. that was a lot. spoilers down below as usual.

also before we start i just wanna say to all of you guys to PLEASE TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF!!!! ik that this week n last week were so much but please don’t forget to prioritize your health!

okay i was taking notes in my notes app while watching cause i wanted to have some reminders so i could write a coherent review on the trial but god. that fucked me up. i did genuinely really love the trial but it’s just a lot to process so i will be waiting till i write any analysis, so don’t expect any very soon LMAO um so yeah, my notes started off decently normal (lie but they were intended to be normal n serious) and then became more and more incoherent. here ya go, my notes copy pasted over here ☝️

chapter 3 yay

“exactly what it sounds like tamba” THIS BITCH CHANNELING KAMIMURA I CANTTTT 😭😭😭

HAMA TELLING WADA TO BREATHE I ALREADY TWARED UP WUAUE HAMA HELPING WADA W THE BATHROOM THATS SO SWEET

watari telling okazaki off hell yeah lets go but also IAGAH

DONT TALK ABOUT HIM GRRR

hiroaki is actually so smart n we don’t talk about that enough!!!!!! please can we talk about that more!!!!!!

OKAZAKI NOT SHUTTING UP BYE 😭

Hasegawa having to defend himself with evidence only 😭

OH MY GOD HASEGAWAS RAGE WHEN BEING SUSPECTED BC HE CARED THE MOST 😭 the va work was fantastic i got so fucking sad

watari getting itchy from the demon waves im CACKLING

HIROAKI POWERING THROUGH THE BODY DESCRIPTION LETS GO 🗣️🗣️💯💯💯💯

god i knew that was SH cuts but GOD I appreciate how much hasegawa tried to keep it private 😭

Hama being a king n bringing up the bop on the head like tambas poison theory bye

LAB SAFETY VIOLATION 😭 Okazaki label picture dropping when

FINALLY! IT WAS POISON!!!! lmfaooo she was so excited im so happy for her

hiroaki being truthful about trying to kill himself what the FUCK IM GONNA CRY

PLEASE KEEP YP WITH THE REST OF THE GROUP LMAO  STOP BULLYING HER SHES TRYING

hayashigeki divorce arc 

nah but fr what if i cried they’re both so valid but lowk yanagi got a point 😭

WHY DOES TAMBA NOT KNOW WHAT A 3D PRINTER IS I CANT KEEP DEFENDING YOU LIKE THIS 😭😭😭

they shared a bed let us REJOICE 🗣️🗣️

“when she came back from the void” “THE WHAT”

WADA RAGE WADA RAGE WADA RAGE

woodshop mention 🗣️🗣️🗣️

hiroaki being strategically logical and yanagi being more emotional god I LOVE HIRONAGI FOILS

“it seems as though we’re somewhat divided on this issue” SCRUM DEBATE 😜😜😜

yanagi using so much energy to argue with mfs 

the way hayashi gets it out of him,,, HE WAS TRYING TO OPEN THE DOOR AUAGSHS

Hama as a safety precaution in wataris room LMFAO I LOVE THIS DUO SO MUCH MORE THAN I EXPECTED

YANAGI STOP BEING SUSPICIOUS UAGAHEUE

it cannot be tamba absolutely not please that’s gotta be insane she does NOT have the motivation for that

tamba is lowk distressed :(

so technically can only be okazaki, yanagi, or tamba????? im gonna cry either way

OH I DIDNT EVEN THINK ABOUT THE SHIRT THING BEING MORE THAN THE COLD

guys pls don’t let it be yanagi

please no

guys no

god fucking no

oh right his hand isn’t working let’s go

NOT MY QUEEN HAYASHI

GIRL NOT THE TRACK RECORD MENTION 😭😭😭

nah wait why is hiroaki suddenly becoming the emotion n yanagi the logic

FIGHT FIGHT FIGHT

HASEGAWA HAVING A PISSED OFF WADA MOMENT AUAHSHS FUCKKK

NO NOT WATARI HIDING ON THE COAT BEING USED AS EVIDENCE EUEGEGG

sus ahh Okazaki….. with 20 minutes left……. how we feeling Okazaki nation…..

stop lying vro

wadas ribs has been added to your truth bullets

COAT REVEAL 🗣️🗣️🗣️

WATARI 😭😭😭😭😭

oh god i wasn’t expecting that

WATARII MY SWEET BABY OH MT GOD POBRECITO RUCK FUCK MT STUPJD BAKA LJFE

THE LAUGHING

WHAT

WHAT RHE FUCK

WHAT IS GOINNGGG ON

FACE REVEAL1?1?2?3?

BRO OHTTA THE FRAME

OH MT GOD

IM SCREAMING WHAT IS THIS

IM LOSING IT

WHA

IM CRYING WHATBIS THIS 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

this is not real

SODA AT THESE LINES UPPP LMFAOAOAO

OH MY GOD THEYRE NEMESES THATS KINDA AWESOME NGL

everyone being so done with her bye 😭😭😭

SHE WANTED TSUNO SO BAD???? TOXIC ONE SIDED YURI WTF????

IM STILL PROCESSING

this is not happening

THE VOICE CHANGE

EVERYONE IS SO DONE WITH THEM IM SCREAMING

guys why do i kinda love this

tsuno didn’t gaf

WADA GET THEIR ASS 😭😭😭

there is nothing classy about whatever this is

no bc the rivalry is insane

POBRECITO WATARI

KAMIMURA DIED FOR NOTHING WHAT THE FUCK

WHAT THE HELL

WHAHWTWHWKE

loathing unadulterated loathing

get her ass what the fucking shit

NO CLOSING ARGUMENT??????

KAMIMURAS SHORT TOO

OH MY GODDDD

IM SCREAMING

THIS IS CRAzyyt 😭😭😭😭

WHAT IS THIS

this was villanous

GET THEIR ASS HASEGAWA PLSSS 😭😭😭😭

i am in such shock

FUCK YOU FOR MESSING WITH MY KING IM THROWING HANDS IMMEDIATELY

WATARI OH MY GODDDD AUSHSH 😭😭😭

“GO DIE ALREADY” LMFAOAO

the editing for this episode is crazy

wada so real

wada get their ass pls

END THIS SHIT ALREADY

BRO WAS CONFINED FOR A SECOND HELEPP1??1?2?2

fourth wall breaking icon??????

i think im hysterical what do you MEAN HE DIED FOR NOTHING

okay back from crying and pacing around for 10 minutes let’s continue

THE TONGUE WAS A TROPHY?????????? I need another break WHATVTHE fucke

smart to get hasegawa outta here but FUCK YOU

FUCK YOU OKAZAKI

PLEASE VOTE PLEASE PLEASE WHAT THE FUCK!!!

actually when is the Okazaki lore drop happening i need it

THIS MAKES ME SO SAD KAMIMURA DIED BEFORE ANY OF HIS DREAMS BECAME TRUE AND HE LIVED A MAINLY TRAGIC LIFE AND IT ENDED TO HORRENDOUSLY????? IM SO UPSET ACTUALLY

EXECUTE THEIR ASS

WADA PLEASE BE THE EXECUTIONER

OH MY GOD HES TRYING TO HIT THEM OH MY GOD GET THEIR ASSS

OH GET THEIR ASS HASEGAWA

HASEGAWA RAGE RAGE RAGE RAGE HOLLYYYYY FUCKKKKKKKK

WHAT THE RUCWHAT THE FUCJS

WATARIIII OH MT GODDDDDDD

im in actual tears hey yeah what the hell

WATARI HASEGAWA AND WADANOH MT FUCKING GOS THIS WAS SO DESPAIRING WHAT THE FUCK. THE FUCKz THE FUCK.

WATARI 😭😭😭😭😭😭

im actually crying now

I CANT SEE THE SCREEN MY TWARS DUDE WHAT RHE HELL

THE WAY THAT THE CAST IS SO DONE WITH THEM

WELL BE FOXES OKAY? OH MY FOD STOP STIP STOPS FTOOSTBOSRN AROP IT I WILL FOLLOW YOUR FLAME WHAG IF I CRIED

im at such a loss okay trial over execution time

me too dr yonekura

IM STILL PISSED ABOUT KAMIMURA

I MISS KAMIMURA SO BAD

I MISS HIM SO MUCH OHHHHHH MY GOD BRING HIM BACK GUYS PLEAS EPLEAPELWMEPALEPALDJRPWMAPEKE

the way yonekura is so done w okazaki 💀💀

WHO OKAYED THAT HOWD THAT GET THROUGH BUDGETING IM IN TEARS

this chapter was simultaneously the most serious tetro has ever gotten and the most unserious at the same time

oh so she just like suffocated

YONEKURA DOES NOT THINK THIS WAS INNOVATIVE IM SCREAMING LMFAOAO

not an expensive motive???? oh boy

OKAZAKIS TRACK COMING IN I CANTTTT

kamimura nation I think we need a minute (a year of losing it)

THEY ARE CHANGING THE ANNOUNCMENT MID GAME?? wait a damn minute we didn’t have the three person rule before hand bye why did i not realize this,,,, fuck y’all doctors btw

WHAT

OKAZAKI WAS YONEKURAS KID???? AND THEIR NAME WAS YUME????? oh guys I need a lore drop so bad. and also to get through the staffside logs. maybe this is not the surprise it is to me I’m bye. 

the fuck is wrong with yonekura

how are parents even working

soryr i genuinely had to take another break my mom walked into the room and i had somewhat gotten it together n she asked what happened and i just started BAWLING oh my GOD it’s genuinely been so long since I’ve cried like this over a fictional character

ok we are locked in now

OJIMA WHAT THE FUCK HE TRIED SO HAR DOH MY GOD THE TEARS CAME RIFHT BACK

I DONT WANNA LEAVE YOH BEHIND OH MY GOD

HIROJIMA MY BELOVEDS

my eyeliner is GONE bro 😭

guys I really fucking love hiroaki

she done w yanagi 😞

TAMBA APOLOGY RAHAHHHH i love tamba i was a hater a bit during the trial but it’s because i love her,,,,

I LIKE YOU TAMBA YOURE SOMETHING TO ME

MY HEART OH MY GOD “I JUST MISS YOU” IM GONNA CRY AGAIN

NOW I HAVE TO FORGIVE YOU okay bro….. just say you love her…..

their friendship is so special i NEED TO DRAW THIS HUG SO BAD

THEYRE TALKING TO TSUNO

FUCK

AUAHSOEIEOE OH MT GOD

I MISS TSUNO GUYS I MISS HER SO BAD

WADA 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

I LOVE YOU OH MY FOD I CHOKEE J CANT SEE ANSYTHING ON THE KEYBOARD ANYKORE

NEW WASA CLOTHES THATS SO FYXJING CUTE AWWW I LOVE THIS SO MYCH

HE WAS DRAWING HIM TO MAKE HIM AN OURFIT1?2?2?2? FUCKKKK TETRO RHINES MY LIFE SLASH POS

WADA NEW CLOTHES SPRITE WHEN

WADA HIROAKI HUG IM DRAWING THIS IMMEDIATELY

WADA HAIR CUT WADA GLOW UP 🗣️🗣️🗣️ FUCK YEAH 

im so glad we ended that on a high note that made me so happy after everything else

no hasegawa episode? interesting…. unless we get one in like an hour or something but yk wow

i do want to say that despite the emotional rollercoaster that was this trial, and the frankly INCREDIBLY UNEXPECTED outcome, i did like it narratively. ik the decision of having okazakis character go this direction is gonna be incredibly controversial amongst the community but i really loved it. kamimuras death was almost meaningless, that’s tragic AS FUCK. but “meaningless” deaths happen. it’s not strange to kill off a character for no reason, because people die unfairly way more than we even want to think. and it SUCKS. it sucks SO BAD. but it’s not unrealistic. I think the unserious tone of Okazaki really made the tone of the entire series become even darker and more sinister. wow, anyways take what im saying here w a grain of salt bc im kinda hysterical rn so yeah.

PLEASE TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF YALL!!!! in the end, it heavily impacts us because these characters mean things to us, but PLEASE prioritize yourself <3

[xxx-lilith-xxx]

Biohazard + Dr. Virus Part 1

GN! Reader x X-Virus Slendermansion AU

Synopsis: Cody is a self absorbed, slightly grumpy mad scientist who no one really likes and practically lives in the basement of the mansion. You consistently tease him, and he hates it. He hates feeling inferior, so he always requests Slender to send you down to test his new creations on. However, one night, something shifts in his mind. You're the only person who really cares enough to tease him and not just flat out hate him. It drives him crazy.

CWs: Descriptions on violence and killings, swearing

WC: 2,450

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

This is just part one, not sure when ill write part two but i wanted to be able to put something out. I've had a crazy amount of stuff happen recently, and honestly it's been draining, but I should be less busy now, I hope you guys enjoy this first part!!!

“Doctor viiiiiiruuuuuusssss…” 

The bright, blinding fluorescent lights and strong scent of chemicals hit you like a truck the second you walk into his lab. Even though you’ve set foot in here countless times, the difference from the dark, dim lighting and dank smell of the rest of the manor is always an adjustment. He rolls his eyes, knowing damn well you’re just trying to get under his skin as usual. To any normal person, you’re teasing wouldn’t actually bother them, but no, this is Cody. X-Virus. The ultra, supreme “I'm better than you” guy. For anyone to tease him, poke fun at him for even a second implies they don’t see him as above them. They might even see him as below them. This thought will never cease to drive him absolutely insane, and you know it does. You know Cody’s a smart man- yes- a very smart man- but he needs to humble himself. Plus, most of the time you don’t even say anything bad. You just lightly tease him. Like giving him a nickname. Now, Cody doesn’t mind nicknames, he even calls himself X-Virus, but it's the fact that someone else gave him a nickname. It's demeaning. Belittling. To him, at least. 

“Slender said you needed me here. What.”

“Not needed. Just preferred.”

He shot back quickly. Cody doesn't need anyone. He does not require help. 

“Oh bullshit. You need a guinea pig, don't you?”

You say, not particularly upset as you take a seat right on his table, crossing your legs and looking down at him. He shoots daggers at you, and internally, he wants to rip you off the table and smash your face into it until the metal is engraved with the print of your bitchy, ugly face, and until that bitchy, ugly face is covered in bruises and bleeding. It drives Cody insane.That’s why he always calls you down here for this kind of stuff. When he needs a drug that isn’t designed to inflict detrimental harm, he calls you down for the job. And he knows you can’t decline if slender tells you to go down, so this is his form of payback. His form of one upping you, even if it really isn’t showing you he's better than you at all. 

“Table.”

“God, calm down sassy.”

With a smile you remove yourself from his table and lie on the one you know he's talking about. It's the one he always does tests on you in, and it’s uncomfy, but worth it to get a rise out of Cody.

“Alright- this is going to knock out any and all feelings in your arms. They’ll be numb, and also temporarily paralyzed.”

Unfortunately, Cody was never able to get the satisfaction of killing you or feeding you one of viruses that would eat you alive in the most brutal, painful way possible, but he could inconvenience you by not allowing you to use your arms for a few hours. He could also give him an excuse to bring you some harm.You let yourself relax and lie back as he takes a syringe, pushing the needle into your arm and shooting the liquid into your arms before turning away and disposing of the needle and plastic. 

“Not sure this works. My arms are fine. Guess you fucked up for once, huh prety boy?”

He scoffs at your statement, only to turn around and see you flipping him off. He comes up to you, grabbing your arms and pushing them down.

“Don’t make me strap your arms down, bitch. Or worse- chop them off.”

He gestures to the straps under you as he threatens the safety of your arms, which were most likely used to strap down his victims who didn’t inhabit the mansion. The ones he’d find in the woods and drag into the basement to put his viruses into, and watch their flesh peel off without him so much as touching them. 

“Plus- it won't work for another like… five minutes or so. Thats pretty fuckin’ obvious. Most drugs don't work on contact. That's common knowledge.”

“God- Sit on it and spin, Cody. I’m just fucking with you.”

“X-Virus.”

He corrects, the casual usage of his name continuing to piss him off. Now he wishes he’d strapped you down so he could tighten the harsh leather and dig it into your arms until it slowly cut into the flesh. Maybe you'd even get infected with all the blood of his victims that are on the straps. Maybe you’d die of some disease or something and he could sleep peacefully at night. 

“It’s just your name, Cody. I don’t know why you think you’re so much better than everyone here. Yeah, you’re a smart guy, but you don’t have to be such a dick about it. You have nothing to prove. Most people here are dumber than a bag of rocks, you don’t have much competition.”

“Don’t make me lace this with something that would paralyze your tongue too”

“Lighten Up! That’s why your only friend is Toby and whatever voices you have up in your head. You can’t take a joke. Calm down for once in your life.”

Cody runs a hand through his hair, walking around his lab and not saying a word to you. This conversation isn’t going anywhere good, and he frankly doesn't want to listen to you talk anymore. Doesn't want to listen to what you say, because he knows you’re right. It frustrates him. Just a little longer. He tells himself, sticking to just pacing around the room. 

After a few more minutes of silence, he walks up to you and finally speaks. 

“Raise your arm.”

You try, but it won’t go up.

“Not working.”

“Good.”

He gets a small smile on his face as he picks up a small pair of scissors from his desk and jabs the right into your upper arm. 

“What the fuck, Cody?!?!?”

You yell out, staring at the scissors that are now in your arm. They’re not fully pushed in- about half the way, and the wound seems to already be bleeding. Cody looks down as the crimson liquid starts to drip down your arm, and it fills him with a level of satisfaction. He reaches out, touching the stab site with his gloved hand, gently spreading the blood around with his fingertip.

“That hurt?”

He asks curtly, and normally, yeah, it would, but you don’t feel a thing right now.

“No… but still! Did you have to stab me?? What if I did feel it??”

“Then it would’ve hurt a lot, wouldn’t it?”

You see the smallest cocky grin form on his lips as he turned to get his first aid kit, and it struck something in you. You’ve always seen him proud in his work, but this smile isn’t coming from his work. It’s not coming from his pride. It’s coming from what he said. For once, he said something back. Responding to your teasing with more teasing. He walks back to you, opening up the red box and setting it on your lap before he pulls the scissors out. He cleans the blood with a few rags he keeps in the box, and by the time he's done two of them are soaked. You’re bleeding more than he thought, but he won’t let you know that. He then wraps gauze and bandages around your arm, making sure they’re on properly before putting the stuff away and telling you that you’re good to leave. 

“Might have you come back down tomorrow. I'm trying to work on this drug that causes auditory hallucinations."

Cody opens up the door to the lab since your arms aren’t gonna work for the next couple hours.

“God, all of this shit you're pumping in me is gonna have any lasting effects, right? Am I gonna turn into some drug zombie?”

The question slips from your lips, and you intended on it being a joke, but part of you thinks that there might be a possibility of some issues.

“You should be fine, but I'm not certain. You very well could become a walking biohazard. We’ll just have to wait and see.”

He closes the door behind you, thinking about how nicely that word rolled off his tongue when he looked at you as you walked out. He also just couldn’t get your comment from earlier out of his head. About how he needed to lighten up. Maybe then people would like him. It even keeps him up a bit as he tries to sleep, and he can’t stand it.

The next day, you were doing nothing but eating your lunch, which consisted of a bag of stale chips since no one went shopping recently, when you hear the familiar hum of slender’s voice in your mind, ordering you to go to the lab, as, “X-Virus needs you again for testing”. The chips are set on the table with a sigh as you walk down to the lab, making your way down the stairs and running your hand on the railing, enjoying how you’re actually able to feel it now. You use your hand to open up the lab door, marveling at the feeling of the cool metal when that stench of chemicals hits your nose, and the light attacks your eyes. 

“How’re your arms feeling, Biohazard?”

He doesn't turn around as he speaks, just continues doing whatever the hell he's doing at his table. He knows that he said something new, that he’s never given you a nickname. Never teased you back. He doesn't want to see the look on your face when you register what he's doing. 

“They feel fine. What’s got you calling me that?”

The words slip from your lips as you go to lie down on the table he designates for his little test subjects to rest on.

“Calling you what?”

He knows exactly what you mean, and you know he knows. He looks up at you with a small grin as he comes over with a little vial filled with a dark purplish looking liquid.

“Did I get you thinking yesterday, hm?”

The teasing tone in your voice doesn’t go unnoticed as he rolls his eyes, ignoring your statement.

“Are your arms doing alright?”

“Just fine, thank you.”

You give him a small wave, showing that your arms are functioning just fine.

“Good. Your gonna drink this little vial-“

He gives the glass tube a small shake before handing it to you.

“-then, you should start to hear things. Like a loud thump or a high pitched ringing sound. You should hear them on either the left side, right side, or both. I want you to raise the corresponding hand to the side you hear the sound on, or both if it doesn’t sound specific to one side, alright?”

You notice something as he explains what he wants you to do. His voice sounds less demeaning today. Less bitchy. Less bossy. He even follows up his statement by making sure you understand what he wants you to do. He pretty much never does that. It’s new to hear him talk down in a way that doesn’t obviously show how he sees you as below him.

“I got it. Drink the thingy then tell you what I'm hearing. What’s with you not being a total dick?”

Your voice is a bit sharp, but has no real bite. Just the normal teasing you give him as you grab that little vial, pop the lid off and drink it.

“Just thought about being nicer. Is there an issue with that?”

“Not at all, Doctor.”

You get a small smirk on your face that matches the one on his.

“Just curious why. You never act like this.”

Just for a moment, you see him pause. He normally thinks up a response immediately, but you catch him taking a moment to think about what he wants to say.

“Just thought I might try it. Now focus and tell me if you start hearing shit.”

He more than just thought about it, though. He more than just thought about anything and everything you said to him. Your words and actions kept him up night after night for a reason he just couldn’t pinpoint why he couldn’t get your words and face out of his head. He finally realized something last night though, he enjoyed the attention. He enjoyed someone wanting to talk to him. Sure, he had Toby, but he needed more than just one person. He liked how you showed just the tiniest ounce of care for him, even if it was by teasing him and giving him stupid nicknames. He wanted more. Craved more. 

The rest of the testing goes fine, and Cody seems decently normal, just with the added bit of him not being a complete asshole. You leave and walk up the stairs, happy that you’re able to use your own hands to open up the door. You walk up to where you were eating your lunch, taking the chips and rolling up the bag before walking to the pantry and opening up the creaky, old door to put them away. As you go to close the door, you feel that odd, eerie presence around you. It’s subtle, but you can still feel the slight way that the air changes around you, and you can hear a small ringing in your ears. You know he’s right behind you before you hear his voice.

“You and Tobias will be heading out on a mission tomorrow night. There’s this man who lives near the creek up north. He keeps coming into the woods with the intent of going hunting. I can’t have him seeing anything. You him will go in and make the man’s death look like a suicide. Understood?”

You give him a simple “Mhm” before closing the pantry and walking up to your room, flopping down on the creaky, old bed with a sigh.

All Cody could continue to think about was you. How you cared enough to tease him for ridiculous things. Sure, he hated the feeling of someone looking down on him, but someone was actually looking at him. You would always ask about his viruses and concoctions when you were in his lab, and it never ceased to stay in his mind for the next week after you showed just the smallest touch of interest in his creations. So, at the end of the day when Toby came in to chat with Cody before he went to bed and mentioned that you and him would be going on a mission the following day, Cody asked him for a favor. 

[froggy-anon]

I don’t smoke (Except for when I'm missing you)

Paring: pre re2!Ada Wong x gn!reader

Prompt: Your relationship with Ada was… let’s just say rocky for a while now. Low contact, constant work trips and unavoidable arguments while she’s home- it’s just too much. You both changed since she started working with Wesker …, and so did your body.

Warnings:  angst, body horror, no use of y/n, maybe nsft?, implied reader’s death, bebe you get infected so yeah but it wasn't meant to happen at least, semi-dependant reader, use of tobacco, vomiting, shitty punctuation and misuse of commas, canon divergence, semi-good ending???? idk

Word count: 2.3k 

Notes: omg did I finally post something instead of keeping it in my wips?? hell yeah! I might not be hyperfixating on RE now but I can't get Ada off my head. I mean- just look at her! She's perfect<3 Fucking hell it took me A LONG time to finally finish it but shh… Also only after writing did I realize that the idea is very similar to this fic my @uhlunaro so definitely check this out bc they’re an amazing writer<3

Actually proofread (like ½ for sure) by me omg

It all happened too fast; it was just the usual Thursday morning, the smell of freshly ground coffee and the familiar scent of your lover were in the air as you made the breakfast and the eggs you made were perfectly crispy with runny yolk. Everything seemed to be like it used to but then the call happened… You knew who was it, everyone knew because who else would it be? It was supposed to be your day, you both took the day off and you spent the last few days planning everything out. It was your anniversary, the day you should celebrate your love and not some emergency in the lab! But of course… She was gone again. 

“Why can’t you just pretend that you love me for once!?,” was the last thing you cried out screamed at her as she left. It’s just painful to know that even today her work is more important. It left you weeping softly on the floor, as the yolk of the egg spilled more and more towards your feet from the plate you broke. “Why can’t we be a normal couple…” Your tears had flown out even more now that you were alone.

Ada never liked when you smoked, she always said it left this awful scent on your fingers and breath but why would you care now? A soft breeze hit your face as you inhaled the smoke from your cigarette, who’d think that living near the river could be so nice? Loving Ada is tiring, she used to be one of the most caring and loving people you’ve ever known- even before you started dating! And now it all changed… Yeah, working in some big pharma company can be tiring but it’s ruining both of you. 

The butt of the cigarette was still slowly burning as you looked in the distance. She used to tell you how she grew up near the sea, how they used to go there every day after school and play until the dawn came. She used to say how she’d take me to her hometown in China. You never were even close to one, your parents used to take you and your brother to the countryside on holidays or visit the lake near your hometown; it wasn’t the same though. Loving Ada was never easy, she had her own problems as well as you had yours but before all this you both managed to heal, to thrive. You should’ve left when it started, before all the arguments and hate. It’s not a new idea but the thought of being alone again is scary. Ugh, you’re thinking too much, it makes you dizzy. Or maybe was it the cigarette?

You always get dizzy, maybe all this overthinking is too much for you. You head towards the kitchen sink and fill up a glass with the tap water. It was just a small argument, it wasn’t worth all the mess. You never thought that water would make you feel worse, no one would! We need it to live, so why your insides are burning? Who cares, anyway the mess won’t clean itself. It doesn’t feel right, nothing feels right. The burning sensation might’ve stopped but it was replaced with this sore, almost itchy feeling. Ada came home late again, she’s not looking better than you but as you greet her you could see a spark of worry in her eyes. Why would she worry? There’s nothing to worry about, right? All you can do is sigh and act like nothing happened, she surely flinches when you kiss her because she’s still annoyed over today’s morning…

You woke up somehow more tired than before you went to sleep. Funny enough you also look like shit. Yeah, you can tell yourself that you caught a cold but if so, then why does my body itch so much? Ada looks less worried than tomorrow but finally is some more affectionate than usual. Maybe the fight made her think finally.

You miss her touch though; the way she smuggles up to your chest and how soft are her lips. You miss how she used to be so good. You miss how your life was before this Wesker guy. Good, she’s warming up again. She kissed you goodbye and said something about coming home later. Weird…

It’s itching, itching so much. It feels like something is under your skin and it’s moving… It sure has to be a delusion, a hallucination maybe but it feels so real. Let’s try to calm down. okay? You can’t go to work while being such a mess and after all some DayQuill will help you a ton. You go to the kitchen and prepare some breakfast before popping some cold meds. You brush your still tangled hair to the side and oh my… I- it’s weird, you always had strong and healthy hair after all so why a clump of them is in your hand right now? I mean, I guess all all of the stress lately finally got to you, being a news reporter is not easy and it shouldn’t be. You sure will feel better when you’re finally in your work wear and clean face.

As soon as you get to the bathroom you hit the sink and rinse your face. It’s dry and surprisingly harder than always. As you lift your head and you look in the mirror, the rougher parts of your face look bruised. And there are some lacerations which weren’t there when you woke up- Ada would point them out for sure. It’s weird but that’s nothing that some makeup can’t fix. Also, it’s not like you can just get a day off at a whim. The amount of concealer you put on your face is enough to put a gyaru inro shame and yet your face still feels wrong and itchy. You brush your hair getlly while trying to not rip out another chunk of your hair and put on your usual shirt and blazer before putting on short heels on your sore and reddish feet. You sat at the vanity waiting for your usual makeup artist to return and rehearse your lines. It’s so hard to focus on the letters and it feels like you’re in a haze. It’s hard to explain really, mostly because it’s hard to form coherent thoughts too. No matter how much you rub your eyes and take small breaks you just can’t focus on anything. Words on the paper are blurry and there's always a silhouette of something or someone in the corner of your vision. It hurts and you’re almost sure that your feet are bleeding. You don’t even realize when the makeup artist has returned and been putting some TV stick on your face until she gets to the painful lesions you passed as some chemical burn from a face mask. Your concept of time is distorted and looking back now you don’t even remember when you and your colleague went live. Funny… You got suddenly sick and now you’re delivering the news of the water reservoir your apartment complex uses being contaminated.

Black tar filled your lungs making your trachea burn so pleasantly. The smoke inside your lungs made you feel so giddy right before you exhale. Cigarettes always help you take your mind off your problems and help preserve good emotions. You know that one day they will be the end of you, but it’s not like you’re gonna live forever so why not have fun now? 

Shadowy figures followed you home from the studio, it’s surprising that you managed to work your usual shift. Even your coworkers caught on your ailing and lying to them that you’re just a bit under the weather felt bad. Bills ain’t gonna pay themselves though so you gotta do what you gotta do. Ada didn’t say anything about your illness and only looked at you pitifully compassionately before kissing your cheek, she even offered to make a dinner for today. You pulled into a hug and her warm touch against your calloused skin reminded you of the old times, of the days you first met and how beautiful your relationship was. She smelled like honey and antiseptics, you couldn’t stop yourself from taking a deep breath of her scent which made your heart flutter. Her skin is so soft and delicate, making you want to bite down and taste her flesh push her against the counter and take her whole, she’s your wife after all. Before you can do that though she pulls away and makes a beeline towards the fridge. The packs of water, the ones that appeared in your kitchen a few days ago, took your attention away from her. You couldn’t help but feel a bit suspicious.

You didn’t sleep much- in fact, you didn’t sleep at all. Your body just kept itching and the nausea you felt as you forced down the dinner before got progressively worse. You can feel your body changing, turning into something disgusting as your skin gets progressively covered in more bruises and blisters where it seemed to be just irritated this morning. The taste of pennies in your mouth and dry skin on your lips isn’t doing you any favour either. It was only a matter of time before you ended up hunched over the toiled letting the dark ooze flow out of your stomach freely. Your vision kept spinning and those black creatures you saw before were coming closer. It’s not real, it has to be! Just try to remember that whatever you’re seeing is. not. real.

Throwing up usually makes you feel better; not this time though. Your eyes became watery and your fingers bloody as you gripped the toilet bowl. The odour of rotting flesh filled your nostrils and the sickeningly sweet note of it made you gag again. You dealt with rotten meat before on a few occasions and it never was so sweet.

“Shit!”

You broke out of your trance as the bathroom lit up.  Your head shot in the direction of the sound and of course, you noticed your worried lover standing in the doorway. Only a grunt was able to leave your mouth making your throat ache. “Are you okay?” She asked hesitantly as she approached. She looks scared for some reason? You’re just a bit sick, there’s no reason to be scared!

And then you looked down. The toilet was full of brownish-blackish and thick fluid and definitely not dinner. The sides of the toilet were covered in your blood and one of your nails was lying on the floor directly next to the bowl. You take a look at your hands and it makes your breath quicken. Your fingers were all purple and greenish, even some of the tips of your fingers were, unlike the spots on your skin, bloated.

“What the fuck is happening to me?” Your voice was husky and every word felt like a razor being pulled out of your throat. Ada just looked sad… You’d expect her to be scared, to scram, run away, but instead, she just kneeled next to you and pulled you into a loose embrace, as if she was scared to hurt you more.

It pained you, the lightest touch of her silky pyjamas or her warm hands made your skin feel like it was breaking and about to fall off. It was excruciating yet you laid your head gently on her shoulder. You should be scared, furious! You should feel whatever else than sorrow and warmth inside your chest. A few tears flew down your cheeks onto her arm as you bit down on your lip to stop a pathetic sob from escaping. You could feel her hand slowly crase your head like she always did before you used to fall asleep before your life became occupied by jealousy and your jobs took over your time, before your relationship went downhill. She let out a barely audible “I’m sorry…” and you swear you felt her breath hitch.

They are scratching your brain, you can feel every bone in your body change its shape, or maybe you’re just going insane.

Ada is making phone calls in the kitchen as you sit at the dinner table and scratch your fingers, eventually ripping one or two loose fingernails off. She keeps glancing at you while trying her best to hide the fear in her eyes. Damn, a cigarette would be good now… You can feel your muscles tear with your every move and slowly fall off your bones. Necrosis on your skin expands and only a few spots on your body are left the same colour as before.

It hurts, it hurts it hurts it hurts ithurts ithurts ithurts ithurtsithutsithurtsithutrsithurst i t h u r t s  s o  b a d l y.

Suddenly you can smell the familiar scent of honey and now Ada’s shampoo as she wraps her hands around you from behind. She looks so soft and tasty, so vulnerable. Her touch hurts so good you want to fall into her tight embrace, squeeze her waist tightly and fuse into one. It makes you feel loved again… And then your body stops aching.

You felt sudden force against your neck like you were punched, and then something lukewarm flowing down your chest as Ada creases your cheek slowly. It hurts for a while until it just stops. Everything just fades…

“I don't smoke Except for when I'm missing you To remember your mouth, how it Tasted true And I don't smoke Except for after I've held you, baby Being with you Makes the flame burn good”

It took me so long to finally post something but here it is! I hope you like the creation of euphoric me because let's be real, no way I'd write this fully without being euphoric :3 Technically it should've been posted on Pride Month but shh...

Dividers: @cafekitsune p1 p2

Song: I don't smoke by Mitski

©2023, froggy-anon and their related entities. All rights reserved.

[bringthekaos]

Im not sure if you're still actively in the arcane fandom but I was wondering what type of things Jayce and viktor would argue about besides their opinions on hex tech/ war. Would they even argue a lot?

Kinda like normal couple things, like would Viktor get annoyed at Jayce for chewing with his mouth open or would Jayce get annoyed at Viktor for cleaning up his room for him? and etc.

Oh I very much am still here, just kinda getting steamrolled by life. But I’m still just as obsessed with JayVik as I was on day one!!

My headcanon for a recurring argument is organization—if you look at Jayce’s apartment, he is just… all over the place. Like… he made himself and Cait sandwiches and then left them on the table and fucked off to the Undercity for parts. I feel like he’s got a little of that ADHD; he starts a project, gets distracted by another, leaves shit lying around, repeat ad nauseum. I imagine his system for organizing is “I’ll remember where I had it last.” Which I can totally relate to, as I’m that way. It would be great if I could put things back where they go on a shelf or in a drawer, but for some reason I just “take a picture” with my mind, and I remember where things were last, even if that’s not where they go.

And Viktor is much more organized—a habit he’s trained himself into over time. He needs to know where things are when he needs them, and it’s important to him that he can find those things without wasting time searching for them. And I imagine he gets frustrated when he needs certain tools in the lab, and they’re supposed to be hanging above the workbench, but they’re not. So then he has to ask Jayce where they are, and of course Jayce knows, he remembers where he put it. But it gets frustrating for Viktor, having to ask every time. He’d prefer if it was just where it was supposed to be.

And of course this wouldn’t be a recurring thing if they would just explain to each other their rationale, but there’s a measure of self-consciousness involved—Jayce being insecure about his disorganization, and Viktor worrying he’s being too picky (even though it’s often not about being picky, it’s about saving himself the movement and the pain of having to go looking for something).

I imagine they disagree on many other things, obviously politics and economics, but those things I can see them more easily avoiding (at least in the early days). Kind of an “agree to disagree” situation. But as time goes on, I can see all of these small disagreements festering, and because they don’t really talk about them, what was once a minute crack in their relationship becomes a massive rift. That said though, I still think all of it could be mended if they would just talk to each other—level with the other, explain why they feel the way they do. I’m certain they’d both understand, and would compromise with each other in the interest of maintaining their relationship. They care deeply about one another, whether it’s platonic or romantic, and I believe they would put in the effort to mend that rift. But sadly, they don’t get that chance before it all goes to hell.

[phoenixisobsessed]

Heeeey guys.

HOLOFORMS are DONE.

Don’t mind Nightmare’s tits being out. And no I will not be drawing feet GRRRR.

I think I captured my ocs pretty well with this one!! I always imagined Nightrunner covered in tattoos and piercings while Nightmare really just does NOT give a fuck.

So if you don’t know, here they are normally:

(I actually realise now that that ref picture of Nightmare is pretty dated and I have a new one but oh well)

I decided to NOT give them red eyes because it was just a bit too unnatural looking for me tbh. So I just decided to give them my actual eye colour because why not. And I tried to somewhat base their clothes on their designs to the best of my ability / in a way that still reflected their personalities. Imma go a bit into detail now >:)

Nightrunner. He’s super interested in Earth culture and all of that. He likes the cosmetics, pins, lifestyle, all of that. So he’s going all out. He may be a spy but who said he needed to be a good one. I can imagine somebody suggesting a more lowkey holoform and he just went ahead and set “HELL NAW”. Because he’s Nightrunner. He’s a Ferrari racing car. Nobody can make him just chill. In my mind he’s also always been a sort of lean-fit, and even though I struggled for a bit, I think I caught it pretty well. At least in the upper body.

Nightmare meanwhile was both harder and easier. Like what am I supposed to do with a scientist who’s basically like Shockwave but even more logical. He wouldn’t really care. Just anything practical. So I decided to at least try to capture his wings in the lab coat thingy. Oh, it’s not white? Yeah that’s right. They’re usually white so spills can be spotted? …Yes. :D HSBHA I won’t comment further on that.

But anyway yeah I think I caught their personalities pretty well. Yes Nightmare is a giant I know he usually is anyway. They are polar opposites and I love them.

Alright that’s it I gotta go watch a movie now >:) BYEBYE!!!

[slowd1ving]

UNFORTUNATE BACKUP・゜ MIGUEL O'HARA NSFW

It's just you against fate. Unfortunately, it's hell-bent towards pairing you with the most annoying person in existence ever. Medical Researcher/Field Doctor reader, GN but he is used exactly 1 time warnings: nsfw, violence, tension (resolved), degradation wrote this for my friend a while back so it's not my usual style ;; lowkey clueless abt medical stuff so I'm sorry if that's obvious... this would've done numbers here if I actually posted this when itsv came out but as you can tell I just could not be asked if you've seen this before, it was posted to ao3 like a year ago by yours truly!!! wc: 7.5k

MISC. MASTERLIST . 　⁺ MASTERLIST ・゜・NAVIGATION

Maybe it’s fate playing a silly little prank on you when you don’t see Jessica waiting for you at the abandoned Alchemax you’re investigating. Maybe she’s late? You shift from side to side, wishing you brought your insulating suit to combat the frigid wind sweeping through the clearing where you stand. 

“Jess?” you hesitantly call out, even though you know it’s utterly foolish to do so when you haven’t even surveyed the surroundings. You can’t help but feel a pang of worry at her absence; it’s only the rustling leaves that answer your call. 

“You’re late.” it’s not Jessica’s voice that sounds out from the shadows of the Alchemax entrance. As your eyes struggle to make out who exactly spoke, he steps out into the weak rays of sun. It’s… Miguel? What the fuck is he doing here? Rarely do you ever see him, since the medical research facility is practically a gazillion miles away from his office-cave. 

“Sorry,” you try to inject some sincerity into your tone since he’s your superior, but it’s proving difficult when you’re literally on time . You slowly push open the creaky revolving door (which is ridiculously heavy, but you refuse to let him see your struggle). 

“While you were taking your sweet time,” Miguel pauses to shoulder the door open with practised ease, ignoring your exasperated sigh. “I already surveyed the building for you.” 

Literally nobody asked. You bite back the retort, feeling your face contort into a very impolite expression. Don’t lose your job. 

“Thank you,” you force out, surveying the entrance hall with a critical eye and an infrared detector scope. No signs of biological life here, it seems. It’s unusually quiet; normally these facilities are crawling with anomalies and other beings, which is why this is a job for two. 

“Where’s Jessica?” you ask offhandedly, following Miguel up the emergency stairs. You don’t want to make conversation with this standoffish man, but anything beats the very awkward feeling in the air. “Have you kidnapped her or something?” 

“A comedian,” you can hear him mutter under his breath in annoyance. He doesn’t turn to face you. “She sent me to work with you, since she had something urgent come up back in her home world.”

So she hasn’t just left you for the fun of it. Cool. You don’t say anything in response, choosing to run the objectives of your mission through your mind instead. Find the DNA lab, grab some spider-DNA, then do the same in the pathogen department. Back at base, they’ll be used to drive forward immunity research you’ve been conducting with your colleague. 

“The first stop is here,” Miguel informs you curtly, pointing to the frosted glass door in the middle of the corridor. You wordlessly move to gather your specimens, noting how the room is unexpectedly in great condition. The samples are all fresh too, dating only a month back. Great. It’s unusual, but you’ll take it. It’s the same with the virus specimens you’ve managed to get - the Alchemax was probably abandoned very recently. 

“Done,” you don’t see the point in trying to be amiable when Miguel clearly isn’t. We’re never going to be buddies. 

It’s a very pleasant week that flies past without you seeing him. Even though you’re permanently part of the team, you’re rarely ever assigned an active combat mission since you’re one of the few medics available in the facility. Seriously, why are there so few medical Spiders? Regardless, your line of work means that you won’t be in contact with Miguel any time soon. Or so you hope. But fate likes its silly little jokes. 

“They sent you for backup?” the question flies out of Miguel’s mouth when you step out of the portal into the dimly lit streets of Earth-152. A symphony of police sirens and rain splashing onto the pavement is heard in the background; it’s a fitting orchestra for this annoying scene. 

“Is there a problem?” your fist clenches around the strap of your medic bag as you fight to keep your frustration at a simmer. It’s not often that you’re called in for backup to tackle such a large-scale anomaly (see: never ), but you’re good with combat and injuries. Objectively, you’re an exemplary ally to have when fighting - is this fool denying that? “Or can I do my job?”

“He’s just worried because it’s a big operation,” Jess interjects from behind you. What a relief. She elbows him from where she sits astride her motorcycle, looking pointedly at him. “ Aren’t you?”

He doesn’t say anything as he turns to look at his wristband, which currently projects what appears to be a map of the area. You ignore the slight, turning to face Jess with your brows furrowed. “Any updates?” 

“The target should be appearing within the next few minutes,” she quickly pulls up her own projections to show you a blurry photo of the target. “We’re capturing him alive and heading back to headquarters. Target’s particularly strong, so be careful.”

“Right,” your affirmation is interrupted by incessant red blinking from the map hologram. Your breath catches in your throat at the tantalising prospect of finally fighting. Two streets away. You follow Jess out of the alleyway into the blaring lights of the city, feeling the neon lights soak into your very being . Warm summer rain sluices away all your wariness before your webs propel you to the side of a glass skyscraper. 

The target’s nowhere to be found on the roof of the building he’s supposed to be on. Frustration makes itself palpable in the air and you can’t help but feel the dawning horror of apprehension. What’s going on? 

“Ambush!” your mouth forms the warning just as you spot several clones of the target emerging on the roof of the building. You’re not sure if Miguel or Jess heard your cry of shock, but you can’t check on either of them as the clones of the target start surrounding you. You can’t afford that; your webs are laced with a potent tranquilizer that makes quick work of those in your immediate vicinity. It’s not enough - the hordes that emerge from your peripherals are surrounding you anyway. 

“I’ll take care of these,” Jess’ motorcycle makes quick work of a good portion of the clones - they disintegrate pretty rapidly when hit with the heavy vehicle. “Miguel’s on track to find the main body. It’ll go faster if you also look for it.”

“Right,” you know Jess will be fine; her motorcycle and quick wits will let her tackle this crowd with ease. Find the main body. Your gut tells you it’s not going to be far away. In fact, your senses are urging you to check out the derelict factory a few blocks away. And who are you to ignore them? 

“Where are you, where are you,” you mumble to yourself as you swing towards the building. Its imposing structure almost halts you in your tracks, but you know something is lurking within. The angry clouds swirling above don’t make the situation any less menacing, but you ignore the unfortunate weather. No use in shaking in your boots because of some clouds.  

Luckily, there’s a row of windows in the shadows of the factory by the roof; it’s an easy objective to lithely creep up the side of the building. There. Concealed within the shadows of rusty machinery is your target, leaning against the wall in a too-casual manner. Before he can spot you, you crawl down until you’re not in view - there, you immediately fire out a call to Miguel from your watch. It’s the first time you’ve ever done so, but the situation calls for it. 

“What do you want?” his little hologram’s mask is indented with a sharp annoyance. You should’ve just handled this yourself. 

“I’ve found the target,” you retort with whatever venom you can muster. The two of you are colleagues, for fuck’s sake; there’s no use dismissing others like that in the first place. “You can see my location, right?”

“I’ll be there as soon as I finish off this one,” from what you can see, he appears to be fighting a different enemy, judging from the sharp slashing you can faintly make in the background. “Stay exactly where you are until I arrive. Don’t engage in combat.”

“Sure, sarge,” you end the call with your annoyance slowly brimming over the edge. Who knows how long it’ll be before he finishes off that other enemy? You peer back into the factory, intending to continue your little reconnaissance. Your blood runs cold at the view down below. There’s nobody there, not a whisper of a soul down in the depths of those shadows. 

“Looking for me?” you almost jump out of your skin when a cheerful voice calls out from below. It’s the target, who’s somehow managed to make his way to the side of the factory you’re currently balanced on. 

“Don’t do that,” you spring down to the ground so you can come face to face with the target, clutching your bag to your side. The orders not to engage are still fresh in your mind, but you can’t exactly ignore the situation, can you?

“So, uh,” you begin, noticing the way he leans into the space between you two slightly. Diffuse the situation. Stay calm. His suit is almost as dark as the night itself, and it catches your eye with how it thrums like shaken ink. “Any chance you’ll give up peacefully?”

You already know the answer when he laughs mirthfully, with his head thrown back in sharp amusement. You can almost taste the forceful no that’s about to leave his lips. 

“You’re funny,” his razor-edged smile lacks any sort of laughter as he regains his composure. You brace yourself. “But no.”

And you’re ready, ready for the swift kick that comes flying your way. You easily move out of the way, while quickly slinging a web his way - it only scrapes by his upper arm, unfortunately, but it still has the potential to affect him somewhat. Concentrate. The fight will only last a few minutes at worst; it’s absolutely crucial to keep a clear mind. 

You alternate between throwing calculated jabs and webs designed to trap opponents to create a perfect feint and secure yourself an opening. One second. One second to carefully strike a tranquilizer web directly at the shirt under his suit. You don’t want to touch whatever makes up that shifting suit. What is it?

That question is answered immediately as clones start emerging from its shadows. Shit. You can see why the guy’s taking so long to be captured; it’s incredibly troublesome when he’s got a whole legion of clones available. 

You don’t hesitate. 

Steeling yourself, you fire a tranquilizer web straight at him while sending a kick to his side so he evades it right into your line of fire. The web lands on his cheek, which is an excellent target for the tranquilizer to work its wondrous magic. He’s out cold within a second or so. Perfect . It leaves you with plenty of time to ponder how you’re going to explain to Miguel that you’ve (unintentionally!) disobeyed orders within the humongous timespan of ten seconds. 

He doesn’t keep you waiting long. 

“What did you think I meant when I said to not engage?” Miguel’s annoyance seeps into the air when he sees you standing over the unconscious clone-man. 

“It was self-defense,” you argue, holding your hands up in mock-surrender. He’s clearly sceptical with the way his eyes swivel from the knocked-out target on the floor back to you. “Play it back on the watch!”

“Jessica, he’s been apprehended,” Miguel speaks into his watch briefly, before putting his arm back down. It's an uncomfortable feeling; you don’t think you’ve ever been the subject of such an intense, scrutinising glare. 

“You did take out the trouble,” he finally admits grudgingly; it feels like somewhat of an accomplishment. Somewhat. “Do a better job of following orders next time.”

You fight the urge to mutter expletives under your breath. 

It’s the same song and dance for the next month; fate can’t help but assign you as backup to Miguel’s missions, though it’s strictly limited to medic duties in case someone fucks up. It’s unpleasant - his criticisms of your actions slowly wear down your absolutely bottomless patience like coarse-grit sandpaper pretty quickly. 

You wouldn’t call the next mission a fuck up; it can only really be described as an absolute calamity when you step out into the mayhem. It’s an incessant cacophony of blaring sirens and pure carnage - from what you can gather, a gaping abyss is swallowing the buildings above where it’s situated. It’s a disaster. 

It’s not really a surprise then, when Miguel forces his way onto the hologram projection on your watch to move you elsewhere, your nerves are frayed. 

“Shut the fuck up,” you spit out, scribbling out a list of equipment for an unfortunate intern to bring from the medical facility. You pray what you carry is enough to quench the insatiable hunger of injuries. “Let me do my goddamn job for once.”

You hang up; etiquette be damned in this haze of smoke and debris. Thankfully, there’s no fatalities recorded after the sinkhole is stabilised. On the other hand, the infirmary is going to be very lively for the next week. The movement of your hands can only be described as frenzied with how efficiently you patch up the countless injuries on site - there’s an ever growing mountain of sanguine gauze building up beside you. 

It’s only a few hours later that you’re finally allowed a reprieve. You trudge back to the medical facility where one of your few colleagues who’s actually finished training is running around haggardly to care for the incoming patients. 

“Can you patch up O’Hara?” he nervously asks you, while you feel your bones wither away. You meet his pleading gaze impassively. “He’s been refusing medical treatment from any of the available interns, and you’re the only one who doesn’t crack under that pressure.”

You want to say no. Your mind’s practically begging you to refuse so you can have him out of mind for some time. But looking upon that pathetically pitiful countenance of your colleague, your resolve softens. This man will wilt like a goddamn cabbage if Miguel so much as exhales sharply. 

“Fine,” you concede with a look of defeat; it’s almost horrendous with how quickly he beams at you. 

“After, your shift’s over,” he calls out after you as you grab some ointment, gauze and other essentials. You’re unclear as to how Miguel was injured exactly, but your gut tells you it’s probably just some shallow injuries if he hasn’t been coerced by Jess into coming to the infirmary. Just do the job. You should’ve kept your Spidersuit on below your regular clothes; yet the prospect of sinking into bed right after you treat your last patient far outweighs the vulnerability you feel. 

It’s not exactly a short walk to where Miguel’s room is situated, but the concept of time is one that’s chased away by the sinking feeling in your stomach. It goes by too fast. You really should’ve just refused. Here goes nothing.

Surely you’ll be turned away immediately after you knock? Surely you’ll be able to go back to your own room and forget this ever happened? Surely fate will smile down upon you for once?

Fate truly is a fickle being. 

Your knock on his door is almost immediately answered by an exasperated “ Come in.” You suppress your own exasperated groan as you recognize Miguel’s voice. Cradling the bag of medical supplies in your arm, you shove the door open with your shoulder. It’s dark - which you’d expect - but it still takes a while for your eyes to adjust to the sight-

Rapid heartbeats resound in the back of your head as you make out Miguel’s dim figure sitting on the edge of his bed. His suit is rolled up around his waist, leaving his torso completely bare. Your blood is practically beating up your veins with how quickly it races around your body. What the everloving fuck . The resounding question you have is answered by the dim glow of a syringe in his hands - it’s not exactly a secret that Miguel’s not just a human bitten by a radioactive spider, but it’s the first time you’ve ever witnessed a tangible instant of it.

“It’s you,” he doesn’t move to cover up with a scandalous gasp, but rather stares you down impassively. Who was he expecting? “What do you want?”

“To dress those wounds like I’ve been told to,” you stare right back at him, refusing to let your eyes be cowed into avoiding that gaze. You don’t budge, you don’t shift from foot to foot; your stance is staunchly planted onto the floor of his room. You can faintly see some nasty-looking gashes that look like they were caused by debris, as well as shallow lacerations that were undoubtedly made by a weapon. 

“I’m fine,” he dismisses you, but you can see the shiny skin surrounding some of the injuries. You can’t even feel the resentment that you would normally - if that becomes infected, it’s not your problem. 

“Those might get infected,” you point out, though you don’t really know what’s prompting you to argue in favour of spending more time with him. “I’ll be done in less than ten minutes.”

You suppose that noncommittal grunt is a concession to your superior logic. He stares at you wordlessly as you approach him; he’s rarely ever seen you without your mask and suit, you realise. Silence. Well, it would be silent if it weren’t for your heart desperately pounding away, so much so that you swear even he can hear it. You carefully put your bag down onto the floor. 

He doesn’t hiss or pull away as the antiseptic-covered cloth runs over the gashes; the imperceptible stare that’s on you is disconcerting, to say the very least. He’s cold to touch, even through the thin disposable gloves you’ve donned. It doesn’t fully hit you that you’re touching Miguel’s shoulders and upper chest without getting your head bitten off. Absolutely shocking. 

Those gashes beneath his collarbone aren’t as nasty as they looked underneath all the dried blood - he’s not going to need any stitches, so you can just slap gauze and medical tape over those bad boys and let the platelets do their job. It’s getting increasingly hard to concentrate on the next set of injuries when you can feel the warm air of his breathing near your neck. Shit . Your eyes hone in on what your hands are doing; it’s not enough to distract you from his burning gaze on you. 

“The front’s done,” you pull back, only now noticing you’ve been standing between his goddamn legs . It’s a miracle your voice doesn’t shake at the revelation, but you’re sure that he can hear the deafening way your heart is beating. Say something.  Anything. The silence is all too unnerving. 

“There’s some cuts on my back as well,” he finally says after you’ve surveyed your work and start opening your bag to find the bio-waste disposal bags. You pause. You suppress the urge to rub your hands together maniacally. 

“Alright, turn around,” you laugh internally at the absurdity of the situation - he does nothing but spout frustration at you, yet there are no complaints or criticisms escaping him as he turns around obediently. It’s not a full turn; the angle of his turned back invites you to take a seat beside him on the mattress. Woah there. 

You wait a second or so before realising that,��yes, he’s waiting for you to sit down and isn’t actually going to bite your head off for doing so. It’s extremely surreal to sink into the firm mattress beside him; you doubt anyone’s made it this far in this goddamn cave . It’s even more surreal feeling the wisps of body heat brushing against you from the thighs still covered in his Spidersuit: a sharp contrast to his cool torso. 

Be professional. Your eyes skim over the various scrapes littering his shoulders, and fortunately, all of them just need a quick wipedown and a plaster. It’s a lot easier to daub the antiseptic on without his gaze on him; that is, until you become slightly enraptured by the way his muscles tense (almost imperceptibly) at the sting of the antiseptic. You’re not as smooth as you wish, fumbling the packet of plasters while you revel in the fact his gaze is elsewhere. 

“Almost done,” you reassure him after he tenses up slightly after you brush your fingers over your handiwork on his lower spine. Can he feel the way your pulse is absolutely electrified right now? You don’t even like him, but the proximity might just send you into cardiac arrest. 

“It’s fine,” his tone is slightly strained. You raise your eyebrows, but ultimately ignore it in favour of patching up those last few cuts. 

“Done,” you try not to sound too regretful. You hate the way your heart’s beating more and more rapidly; it takes everything in you to quickly gather your materials and stand up from the bed.  

“Thanks,” the begrudging gratitude that comes out from him forces you to look back at him wordlessly. You take the time to search his face with your eyes, noting the slight sheen of sweat on his face. Is he…

“Are you running a fever?” the question escapes your lips as you move closer, whilst the medical supplies are unceremoniously dumped onto a side table. Your hand carefully places itself on his forehead (paying no heed to the very close proximity of his teeth). There’s no actual heat radiating from him, but the way he’s currently looking at you with that half-lidded gaze is making you feel like the delirious one. Why isn’t he saying anything?  

Say something.

The back of your hand slowly moves away from his face, but you freeze as your wrist is grasped by his hand. What is he… His skin is cold, but the prickles left behind on your wrist are burning and spreading all over your body. You’re not breathing; you’re waiting for his next move. 

“You are so frustrating,” he says through gritted teeth - though it lacks any of the usual bite that’s present. He speaks! You can feel his little angry exhale on your hand from where he’s holding it near his face. You still haven’t moved away, instead choosing to observe the way his facial muscles contort into an expression of fervid displeasure. “To think you’d have such an effect..”

The last part is muttered under his breath, as if you weren’t the intended recipient, but you hear it clear as day. What effect? The heavy implication creeps up inside your mind; it wriggles its way through the cracks in your composure. Surely he didn’t mean it that way, right? Surely you’re just annoying? You can feel your breathing get more shallow as his gaze flickers back up to your face - it searches ravenously, focusing on each feature as if it were a long awaited oasis in the arid desert. 

His hand lets go carefully - it’s so unlike his usual brash movements that you almost laugh. Yet, once you’re free from his hold, you don’t make any move to leave again; it’s truly a strange magnetic effect you’re enveloped in. The carmine glow of monitors in the corner of the room is the only weak illumination in the room (it’s making the situation feel way too intimate in your opinion). 

“Do you want me to stay?” your words escape your lips in a hushed voice. You can’t help but feel the addictive thrum of confidence pulse through your veins, your very capillaries . Maybe the unidentifiable emotion roiling within his eyes isn’t an avid dislike of you? You don’t know why you offered. You’re not sure if you even want to know. Still, you can’t help but feel prickles of curiosity at whatever’s making him so flustered. 

Do you know the implications of your offer?

“Do I want you to stay..” his repetition of your question might’ve seemed mocking at any other time, yet the unusual hushed cadence begs to differ. Anticipation. That’s what’s keeping you rooted in place for fear of disturbing this unfolding scene. You’ve never seen him like this - it’s a delicate balance your heart is begging for you not to destroy. 

“After I let you put your hands all over me, and you’re asking if I want you to stay?” he leans slightly closer towards you - you’re extremely glad he’s still sitting and not absolutely looming over you like the tower he is. You can feel your erratic heartbeat pulsate through your entire being at his words. It’s getting incredibly hard to think when anticipation in your stomach gives in to the rising swell of desire. 

“You’re yet to be put in your place, and you’re asking if I want you to stay?” you feel a shiver run through your body at his proximity, yet you’re the one leaning into him now. You’re so close you can feel his breath fan over your neck; it’s the only part of his body that’s remotely warm, so much so that it’s absolutely scorching you. Or maybe it’s the white-hot blood you can feel blossoming on your face. 

His cold hand ghosts over your chin, tilting your face down with nothing more than a brush of his thumb. Please. Your breath catches in your throat as you watch the muscles of his face contort into a slight smile. 

“Do you want this?” his brows furrow slightly. A question. Your veins already thrum with the answer. 

“ Yes ,” you respond, feeling both your brain and heart work together to cheer you on for once. This better not be a dream . You can see the flash of teeth as he smiles, before you’re roughly pulled onto his lap. It’s actually comfortable to straddle his thighs, you note, but you can’t exactly focus on that anymore when he draws you into a searing kiss. 

He tastes of the coppery tang of blood. It’s the first thing you notice as he slots his mouth against yours. The second thing you notice is how impatient he is, probing at your lip with his fangs while simultaneously pressing you up closer and closer until you’re practically melting into him. You don’t miss a beat; you snake your hands into his hair until they’re buried in the thick brown waves. Your fingers slightly pull at the back, and he lets out a small groan into your mouth at the sensation. 

Sharp fangs graze your lower lip ever so slightly, but the pain is immediately alleviated by his tongue running over the cut. He’s sucking on it - evidently, there’s some blood left behind (or maybe even traces of the venom coursing through those fangs). His little pleased hum reverberates within you; you find yourself being flustered more by that than the way he’s rubbing circles into your thigh with his thumb. 

“You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to do this,” he says in a low voice after the two of you pull apart for air. The string of saliva connecting your lips to his is tinted a rich sanguine; the bridge linking the two of you is entrancing, right before it breaks. His words set your very veins ablaze. 

“ Please ,” you don’t even know what you’re pleading for , only that the pace is far too slow for your liking. It seems he feels the same way, since his face dips lower so his mouth can settle on your neck. He’s careful not to fully sink his teeth into your skin, instead choosing to lightly skim them over your pulse points to elicit small gasps out of you. Your hands grasp and twist so he’s pressed closer and closer into you. It’s strange - you never thought that he’d be the one to coax such a reaction out of you. 

“Desperate, aren’t we?” you can feel the infuriating bastard curl his lips upwards as he sucks marks you know aren’t going to fade for days into the side of your neck. The mocking lilt of his question makes all the blood rush straight down - it’s unfair how unbearable he’s being. Your nails are no doubt leaving marks of their own as you let your hands roam the vast expanse of his back. 

Almost involuntarily, your hips move to gain a semblance of any relief, any friction, but the firm grip of his hand on your thigh prevents you from doing even that. You hiss as his sharp nails dig into the skin (if you get tetanus you’re officially suing). 

“What a pathetic little slut,” he coos into your ear; he can definitely hear the way your breath hitches at his harsh tone. You can’t even bring yourself to respond. “Getting turned on from a few kisses?” 

Fuck . 

You can’t even deny it; instead, you turn your head to the side as if you can escape his prying eyes with your embarrassment. It’s futile. You know he can feel your racing pulse against his lips as he once again presses them to the side of your jaw to coax small sounds out of you. 

“I bet you could get off with just my thigh like the filth you are,” his words drip condescendingly, but you can barely hear him over the pounding heartbeat in the back of your head. You furiously bite back the whine that’s emerging from your throat from his fleeting touches. “Will you?” 

“Fuck, Miguel,” you choke out as he moves one of his legs away so you’re completely pressed against his thigh. 

“Get yourself off,” he utters, seemingly bored, but you both know he’s anything but from the way his eyes gaze intently at you. “But first..”

A quick, experimental swipe of his claw-like nails leaves your plain shirt neatly cleaved in two. So impatient . You can’t say that you’ll miss it, but still. You pull the shirt off, until your torso is just as exposed as his. His gaze sweeps over you ravenously. Then, he leans back onto the bed with his elbows propping him up so he can enjoy the show. What a bastard . 

You bite back a groan as your hips stutter forward; the friction is already causing that sensation in your stomach to build up, even if it’s barely anything. It’s probably due Miguel’s eyes raking over you with tightly restrained desire. You don’t miss the way his eyelids lower and he looks away for a brief instant as you keep your eyes trained right on him. The tightness of your pants does absolute miracles to fill your mind with a pleasure-induced haze, so much so that you’re leaning forward and putting your hands on the curves of his waist (as if they were handlebars) to steady yourself. 

You can go slow without losing out on the mind-numbing friction you’re experiencing - the absolute pressure is slowly driving you to that brink without you having to even try. Still, you can’t help but feel a small gnawing trickle of disappointment; will this end this soon? You push it out of your mind as you continue moving against his thigh - that haze you’re in is too powerful to worry too much about the what-ifs. You succumb to the pleasure, slowly, but surely. 

It’s almost comical as that pleasant haze is snatched away. Even with heightened reflexes, you barely process the swiftness with which Miguel sits up and somehow manoeuvres you so your back is sinking into the sheets of his bed. You can’t help but cry out in disappointment. 

“You thought I’d let you fall apart so easily?” he’s practically purring with that vexing smile on his face - you almost prefer his permanent scowl to this smug expression. Still, being manhandled by him makes your heart drum louder than ever in your ears. “After your constant misconduct ? Open your mouth, whore.”

You open your mouth obediently, and he lets out a pleased hum. You instinctively know what he’s about to do, so it’s not a surprise when he lets a thick string of spit fall into your mouth. You swallow, noticing how his eyes trace over your throat with barely suppressed lust. 

“ Please ,” you choke out, helpless with your wrists pinned to either side of your head. You can hear a dry little chuckle sound out from him. 

“Speak up,” he leans in closer to practically spit the words out. A slight shiver runs through you when his breath ghosts over your ear. “What does the little slut want me to do to him?” 

It’s so utterly laughable; his words make you so goddamn pliant in his hands. 

“I want you in me,” you don’t miss how his body tenses at your bold request. The curve of his throat bobs when he swallows thickly. 

“I’m going to ruin you,” he promises quietly. His head dips low to trail a path down your chest with his mouth - you know you’ll be absolutely covered in marks by the time he’s done with you, but you can’t find it in yourself to care. You revel in his touch. You lean into him like a goddamn moth to flame. 

With a swift tug, he pulls down the elastic band of your pants (you thank whatever’s above that they’re spared the same treatment as your shirt). You’re left shivering as his mouth travels to mark up your thighs - he’s practically burning bruises into you at this point. 

Dim red lighting washes over every sharp crevice and line on his face. The sight before you eases the frustration building at the agonizingly slow pace he’s setting. More . It’s as if he’s heard your silent plea; before you know it, one of his fingers slips past your underwear and enters you, coated in what feels to be lube. Fuck . A drawn out string of muttered expletives escapes your lips as he continues at his slow pace. 

“Are you frustrated?” he mocks, resting the side of his head on your inner thigh as he languidly moves his finger. That prick knows it’s not enough; he’s inviting you to beg for it. It’s humiliating, but you can’t bring yourself to care as desperation pools in your stomach. 

“Faster, please -” your words cut off with a strangled moan as he pushes another finger in easily. Your hand desperately grasps his hair to ground yourself, earning a reverberating groan against your inner thigh. Fervently, you pray those walls of his are soundproof; the obscene noises coming from both your mouth and between your legs fill up the room quickly. 

His composure seems to be rapidly slipping as well, judging by how his enthralled gaze is focused on how you’re taking his fingers. His chest is rising and falling erratically, and his eyes flicker between your lowered eyes and where you’re pulling him in greedily. As soon as you increase in volume, he pulls his fingers out, leaving you so unbearably empty . 

The next thing you notice is the neon red ropes that buzz with static energy trussing your wrists up - it can only be his handiwork, though you’ve never been this close to those unusual red webs. You don’t question it; instead, you’re rapt watching Miguel, who’s hooking his fingers around the bunched up material around his waist, and pulling it down ever so slowly as if he’s putting on a show for you. Maybe he is , considering his eyes are right on you and watching your expression with an underlying smugness as you take the sight in. 

He’s blocking out the vermillion glow of those monitors, practically towering over you and making you swallow nervously thinking about how exactly you’re going to take him. That worry pushes its way into the back of your mind as you decide you don’t particularly care when he’s haloed by that lighting as if he were an angel.

He looks like he’s relishing your reaction when he pulls his underwear off; after all, he’s suppressing that dry, mirthful laugh at your widened stare. You can’t help it - he’s massive . You’re enraptured by the small hiss he lets out at the coldness of the lube as he pumps himself, knowing very well he’s just as entertained as you. 

“Scared you won’t be able to take it?” he challenges, parting your legs easily with the faintest pressure of his claws digging into your thighs. His pupils are completely blown out with lust; they’re honed in on you completely as if he were hunting you down. “Like you weren’t desperately fucking yourself on my fingers a minute ago?”

He cages you easily: too easily. You’re so malleable for him already, and he hasn’t even begun. Your wrists are starting to feel deliciously numb from the low buzz of his crimson web, and you can feel your breathing start to accelerate. 

“ Please , Miguel,” whatever scraps of dignity remaining in you aren’t enough to stop you from begging him to do anything . “I can take it.”

And whatever self-control he’s been displaying (hardly any) up to this point swiftly dissipates as he leans in to swallow the moan that emerges when he finally puts the tip in. He’s still moving all too slowly, but the stretch is making up for it. A low whine escapes your throat as he presses in, and you’re teetering between pain and pleasure. 

“Thought you said you could take it,” he lets out an amused exhale into your mouth, not going any deeper to accustom you to the burn. “And I’m only halfway.”

You rock your hips into his and revel in his groans, prompting him to slowly bottom out. Holy fuck . It’s enough to make your mind blur with a foggy haze at the absolute fullness he’s causing. He’s clearly enjoying himself, or at least, his expression is contorted into one of sharp amusement. 

“Faster,” you urge him on. He can feel your wanting in every arrhythmic breath you take. 

“So desperate,” he groans out as you roll your hips to generate any friction. His chest dips down until it’s pressing up against your bound wrists, only adding to that sharp pressure building in your stomach. “I bet you just want to be used like a degenerate toy.”

Please . 

He doesn’t allow you time for thought at all when he starts moving; his pace is unrelenting and brutal, forcing noises so obscene out of you that you’re praying for whatever next-door neighbour he might have. The snap of his hips into yours is slowly building up that aching pleasure, and your back slowly arches so he can target that particular spot better.

You’re very rapidly unravelling, even more so when he bites down into your shoulder. The pain coursing through your veins swiftly devolves into pleasure. You can already taste the blissful wave that’s steadily approaching you. 

His movements become more sloppy as he becomes more vocal at the way you’re taking him. It’s incredibly attractive to watch that carnal desire overtake him. 

“Look at you, taking me so well,” he praises, digging into the sides of your shoulders with his claws. It goes straight to your pleasure-addled mind, even more so when you hear the wet sounds of skin on skin resounding through the room. “Like a personal fucktoy, don’t you think?”

You can’t even say anything in response, wrapping your legs tightly around him so he can reach even deeper than he has. The overwhelming urge to let go is building up quickly in your stomach, and that heat is climbing all over your skin and mind. 

"Fuck, I’m gonna-” you choke out as Miguel angles your hips down with one hand, pressing into just the right spot. He swallows your cries as your mind goes completely blank with pleasure, still moving into you as you reach that climax. His movements draw that euphoric state out for as long as possible, before the waves of pleasure become overwhelming for your fatigued mind. 

“Miguel-” your whine is broken off as he moves into an upright position, digging his claws into your hips as he keeps moving against them. 

“You didn’t think we were done, did you?” he asks mockingly, wiping up a tear leaking from your eye with the rough pad of his thumb. You succumb to the touch, taking him in all his entirety. Your gaze trails from the frustrated lines on his face, lower, to the rivulets of your cum splattered on his lower abdomen, and finally to where he’s staring, completely enraptured. The breath in your throat hitches as you observe the bulge in your stomach fading and reappearing in time with his thrusts. “I’m not stopping until you fulfil your purpose.”

You feel a trickle of trepidation as he pulls back so only the tip remains in you. 

“What are you-” you trail off, noticing the way his lips curl in anticipation. Oh god . Surely, he won’t-

“Getting myself off,” his lethal smile is the most foreboding one you’ve ever seen, before he slams his hips into yours. It hits that sweet spot instantly and you cry out pathetically. He’s got you seeing the very galaxies with how numbed your mind feels. Distantly, you can feel tears of pleasure swimming down the sides of your face, and his own groans of pleasure. 

He pulls back again, leaving you empty once more, and repeats his earlier motion. You’re practically broken over his dick, but the waves of pleasure aren’t letting up any time soon. It seems the sensations are also getting to him; his powerful movements are slowly becoming sloppier by the second. 

“Want me to cum in you, like the slut you are?” Miguel groans out, coming more and more undone. His question makes you tighten around him, which earns you another breathy exhale. “Getting turned on by the very thought of me breeding you?” 

“ Fuck , yes,” you cry out involuntarily. You can feel your heartbeat pulsing its rapid beat in your stomach as he fills you up again and again. His grip on your thighs is slipping as he messily fucks into you. Obscene squelching noises fill up the room, but you’re too far gone again to care if the whole goddamn building hears the two of you. 

You can feel him desperately trying to maintain any sort of grip of control as his hips snap into yours fervently. Over and over, he repeats your name in a chorus as if it’s his lifeline. That aching feeling in your stomach is slowly returning, ardently wanting him to continue his unforgiving pace. 

With a start, you realise the binds on your wrists have dissolved due to his wavering concentration. Immediately, your hands wind their way around his back to steady yourself, scratching harsh marks into the muscles. He lets out a wanton groan at the sharp sensation; his breaths are coming faster and faster, and you know he’s close. 

Your fingers thread upwards through his hair to pull him into you. He breathlessly kisses you, though it’s more a desperate clash of teeth than anything. His lips part slightly in pleasure and he stiffens minutely. Got him . 

You swallow all the noises he’s making, feeling hot spurts of his cum paint your insides. He doesn’t stop moving ; it’s as if he’s making sure not a single drop is wasted. He rides out the high by pulling you ever closer to press against his body. The shuddering halt of his hips against yours lets you know the fatigue’s taken over him, but he doesn’t stop kissing you, and he doesn’t pull out either. 

The salty taste of sweat is prominent on your tongue when you drag it across the skin of his neck, leaving your own marks as a petty form of revenge. He lets out a sharp exhale, but doesn’t protest as he lets you roll him over so that you’re lying on top of him, connected nonetheless. The movement makes him whine , on the other hand, which you know you’re never going to forget. 

“Fuck,” you mumble against his skin, feeling him shift to gaze down upon your head that’s propped on his chest. “You are so lucky I don’t have any shifts tomorrow.”

Your head moves up and down on his chest as he lets out a tired laugh. Wincing, you prop yourself up on your palms so you can sit up and pull yourself off him. He groans lightly at the change, but you attempt to ignore it. 

Carefully, you rise to your knees with a pang of regret at the loss of him in you. When you look at him, he’s visibly entranced by the combined rivulets of fluids streaming from between your legs, as if he’s asking if he really did all that. 

“You can, uh, use my shower,” he offers, sounding extremely unapologetic. “And stay the night if you want.”

You don’t respond immediately, instead choosing to lean into his touch as he rubs small circles into your thighs. A pressing question emerges in your mind, however. 

“Do you always sleep with your doctors?”  

[pencil-inc]

#5

Sometimes I miss the facility. 

I know, that sounds weird, but that was normal for me. An entire era of my life, just living and breathing science and horror, all mixed together into a mush of experience. I try to ignore it though. Push back the memories, try and move on.

Kind of ironic considering what I’m doing.

See, there’s a reason why everybody studying STEM– yes, even the more passive parts of it– takes an ethics course. Before that, the push for innovation– something I think I ended up getting swept into– fuelled most of not all of the coursework and theory we were working on. Always bigger, always better, always fresh and new and original, some reverberation of futurism. Doesn’t matter what it is, just make sure you’re not copying some 10’s or 20’s sci-fi thriller (or do, if you have a permit).

That was the backbone of most of Project PENCIL. (except the copying stuff. That was surprisingly more achievable than we thought; AI generated toons didn’t work out very well for us though)

Ethics can only get you so far in reasonable, level-headed, absolutely sane science. Hence why we left it at the door not long before we gunned it down and kicked it open. But you still have to ensure a reasonable degree of safety and reliability so you can get your results without anything going wrong.

I remember during my first couple weeks, the labs had just finished being built. In one of them, I was on observation duty for an RS test; Rapid Shake. Think of the way you’d open a Coke can if you wanted to ruin somebody’s day. The test chambers are made up of a dome of soft wall panels (I can’t find the CAD file right now so just use your imagination). One of the panels inside the chamber hadn’t been fully attached to the ceiling. They’re made of cushy faux leather stuff, floor to ceiling; good for a wide open space if a toon starts bouncing off the walls. It was hanging right above the Grabber; something we’d retire later for something more multipurpose than a flailing mechanical arm.

I knew it was dangerous. I knew it could hurt someone, staff or toon. But I didn’t say anything. I don’t get personal. I shouldn’t, not here. But you need to understand how deep-seated this whole attitude to PENCIL was, even before LEAD.

I was looking at that risk, that potential for harm… and I was excited. Excited like a little kid hearing an ice cream truck a block away, excited for everything that could cause a catastrophe. Didn’t matter about the consequences, I just wanted to see it happen. I wanted blood on the floor.

We got our toon– a little dog from a pet insurance commercial– and set her in the machine. I didn’t pay attention to the test. All I could think about was that panel; I could have sworn it leaned down a few inches while the Grabber’s hydraulics made the floor buzz.

Here’s what the thoughts of a crazy person sounds like: Fall. Fall. Fall. Fuck it up. Do it. It’s gonna happen. I know it will. Just fall. Fall! Instead of flying birds or stars, we ended up with spiral eyes from all the shaking; something we expected from an anime toon. We swapped her for her best friend– a tabby cat with a company logo stitched to her chest– and we did it all over again.

And I just kept staring.

I pointed out the loose panel, and they sent maintenance to fix it. Heard them muttering something about how good it was someone saw it before something went wrong.

Objectively, I think it’s likely that might have been one of the more tame accidents if it did happen.

There’s a word for that feeling, actually: schadenfreude.

“the experience of pleasure, joy, or self-satisfaction that comes from learning of or witnessing the troubles, failures, pain, or humiliation of another.”

Soon enough, it was baked into the core of our work. Pride in creating suffering, and suffering yourself. Without either… what was your work without it?

I suppose it’s that drive that I miss. That verve, that persistence. LEAD was a pretty good work ethic at the end of the day, helping you keep a rapid pace despite the burnout. Now, I work at my own pace on this.

I’m happy to have that grace at least.

— Reference