#I really need to make a fanfic about this... eventually

[be-ready-when-i-say-go]

SFW Alphabet--Joe Burrow

In honor of my fanfic writing retirement, I decided to take a crack at the SFW & NSFW Alpahbet for our dearly beloved, Joe, before the pen is officially capped.

Used they/them/partner for this alphabet.

NSFW Alphabet | Joe Burrow Masterlist | Main Masterlist

____________________________________

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

Publicly, Joe’s not super affectionate. He will hold his partner’s hand, guide them by the small of their back. But even that takes a bit of time—Joe’s very aware of what public displays of affection can do in terms of the internet. So it takes him a hot minute to warm up to the idea. If he feels safe enough, tucked away enough into a dark corner, he’ll kiss their forehead/temple, wrap his arm around them, whispering something sweet into their ear, a “Happy you’re here with me,” with just enough breath behind it to make it verbal, but soft enough that it could get swept away. 

In private, Joe cannot keep his hands to himself. He is wrapped around his partner like a koala. Wants to engrave himself into their skin. He’s kissing their shoulder, holding their hand, has an arm draped around their shoulder--something. Joe has to be touching some sort of way. Put a couple drinks in him, when he’s just loose enough, he’s pressing kiss after kiss after kiss to their cheek—not sloppy, just really affectionate.

Joe’s a physical touch and quality time guy—so he’s got a hand on their knee driving while running the boring errands together. Things can get hectic and fast, but carving out the small moments really makes the difference. It’s intentional. 

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

Joe’s goal oriented. If someone presents a problem, he is looking for a solution. He can do the whole ‘I just need someone to listen’ but he needs a heads up that’s what they’re looking for.  The friendship starts randomly—a bump in the grocery store, something on a shelf too high. Joe grabs it. Hands it over with a polite smile and then carries on. Then they run into each other again at the gas station. Eventually they sort of exchange numbers when they’re at the same coffee shop. 

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

Joe is a 100% cuddler—he runs warm, but he loves having someone in his arms or someone’s arms around him. He’s not that picky about cuddles but he will pout if he’s not the small spoon at least 40% of the time. Loves the gentle scratch over his scalp. Sue him. 

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

Joe does want to settle down. He wants to be a dad, yet he’s not looking to rush into that situation. He takes his time, knows that once he devotes himself to dad mode that he wants to have no regrets and doesn’t want feel like his life was cut off. So he waits longer than others would’ve thought. 

Joe’s, well he’s Joe—cooking and cleaning are not his strongest suit. He can clean better than he can cook once he’s motivated. Cleaning is a bit more objective based so he can handle it a bit more. Deep cleaning is a level Joe’s never done but it’s a challenge he will take on. Cooking—well, let’s not burn down that house. He can cook a little. It’s just not his strongest suit. 

However, the longer he is with his partner the more he picks up certain things. Even during the season, Joe will collect the trash and take it to the curb. But he’ll ask to help cook more, or starts laundry without prompting more often. Once he learns his partner’s rhythm, he starts doing more and more around the house. He’s not lazy in a partnership that way. He’s just always had someone else to do it. But seeing his partner do it more makes Joe go ‘they’re not going to do it alone, not when I’m perfectly capable of helping’

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

In person for sure. Joe would hate to do it over text or phone call. It’s way too impersonal of a means for him because that was the person he chose to be with and they deserve better, even if it has to end. He’s not pulling the it’s not you, it’s me unless it’s really a fault on his own.

His schedule is grueling. So if that’s the cause it’s amicable, and heart breaking. But they can part ways. It takes them a minute to get used to it—Joe still wants to text his partner in the morning for a few months. They’ll still hover his name in the evening. It takes a while to realize this person’s not a part of my life anymore. 

It’s not easy, not in the slightest, but Joe is a believer in it’s better to get it done and over with than to drag it out. He’d be emotional, a little choked up--the conversation whispered and paused, heavy with shaky exhales. 

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

Joe’s not afraid of commitment. He’s calculated about it. Joe would get the feeling of, I think I could spend the rest of my life with them, in the first year or so. He needs to have multiple conversations with them about marriage before he gets the ring. He wants that assurance from them. Joe would start looking at rings at about the year and a half mark. But he’s getting everything—cut, band metal type, gem type, etc—well before he purchases. 

Joe’s not in a rush but once he sets his mind to it, he’s going to follow through. No matter what. 

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

Joe’s not above the occasional wrestling session/rough housing session. The couple sock challenge sparks his competitive nature like nobody’s business. If he loses a round, oh he is fired up. But Joe does put a mattress down and other cushions so neither one of them gets hurt. He’s also not grappling with his full strength either, like 70% because he does want to win.

Emotionally, Joe can seem really guarded but I don’t think he’s the type to shy away from his emotions. He works hard to really settle into his emotions and identify them rather than swallowing them down. Even if they’re uncomfortable, Joe will dig into them because he knows it’s better for him to tackle them head on. 

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

If Joe does not get a hug from his partner at least twice a day, it’s going to be a problem. He’s going to throw a hissy fit. It’s a whole ordeal with him pouting on the couch and wailing, “I’m going to pass away from a critical lack of vitamin hugs. I need a long ass hug in the next 30 seconds or I will die.”

He likes the hugs that feel like his body melts into theirs and their body melts into his and there’s no start and stop to their bodies—there is just the warmth of the embrace. Hugs that feel like they’re do a lot more than just the warmth, there’s comfort and exchange. He gives into them, they give into him. It’s a melding, a coming together. 

Joe is quite fond of hugs that sway a little side to side, fits of laughter bubbling just beneath the surface of their chest, inhales that press against exhales. 

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

Joe says it first. It slips out as they’re getting ready for bed. It’s eight months or so into the relationship, and his partner’s spending the night. He’s slipping under the sheets behind them, kissing their temple and he just says it. Without thought, half asleep, warm, and content inhaling the scent of their body wash. It’s slurred and sleepy, “I love you. Sleep well.” 

It almost feels like it didn’t happen. The morning after Joe wakes first. A quick peek, one singular crack of his eyes to the sun through the shades. Half the bed is empty and the toilet flushes. Joe pushes up, a yawn pressing open his lips and jaw. 

“Did you mean it?”

There’s no greeting, but he hears the apprehension, the way the words feel so tiny coming from their chest. “You not sleep okay? What happened?”

“You said you love me last night right before you passed out, snoring I might add. Did you mean it?”

His heart thunders in his chest, slams at his ribs. Joe did mean it. He does mean it--actively, presently. That’s not how he wanted to say it. But it is true. And there’s no use in beating around the bush. “I do love you.”

“And if I love you too?” Not a question to test. It feels like an invitation. Like dipping a toe into a body of water to see if it’s cold or not.

“I know you do,” Joe returns. Not cocky. Not even sassy. Just honest, as only words can do at the moment. He wants it to be as plain and as honest as possible. He can see that there is love, that he’s cared for, desired, appreciated, adored. 

“I do,” they agree. “I do love you.”

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

Joe gets possessive and a little over protective. He’s not the jealous type if they go out, nor is he worried about his partner having friends of the same or opposite sex. None of that really matters to him. Because both of them know who his partner goes home to. Who they want to go home to. 

What matters is that Joe’s partner is his. Someone’s not taking the hint that his partner’s not comfortable and Joe’s stalking over like predator to a kill. If someone at work is giving them the creeps, Joe’s sitting with them to draft that email to HR. This is the person he’s committed to, so committed he fucking is and no one will mess with them if Joe has two cents to do with it. 

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

Oh there��s so many different kinds of kisses: missed you kisses, got back home and I’m so happy to see you kisses, sleepy kisses, drunk kisses, giggly kisses, laughing because god how did I get so lucky kisses, I’m not paying attention to my own stuff I just wanted to kiss you kisses. Passing you in the kitchen stealing some of your food kisses. Late night and I’ve missed your warmth and your body but I’m falling asleep as we speak kisses. 

Joe likes to be kissed on the lips. Forehead kisses are second best. Do not kiss that man behind his ear unless there’s an hour window of time because kisses behind the ear are prime ways to get something started that Joe will see all the way through. 

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

Joe’s good with kids. 

He treats them like tiny humans in a way that almost looks like he doesn’t know what he’s doing, but is clear that he’s trying—talking like normal yet he’s using age appropriate language. And he’s incredibly patient with them. 

He’ll toss foam footballs or play the customer in the grocery store, pushing that tiny fake cart that looks like it could be crushed by Joe if he breathed on it too hard. Joe is extremely careful though, ensures no fake grocery carts, or fake blueberries, or fake cares are harmed in the process of his play. 

Joe will draw with them. Or color and he gives each task the same kind of intense focus and dedication that he does studying the playbook. 

If they’re not quite talking in full sentences, he listens to them intently and nods. “That’s quite the story. Let me hear more,” he returns in that deep grovel. The baby babbles more and he nods again. “Yeah, you gotta just tell it straight at times. I respect that kind of honesty.” 

He might feel a little awkward at first. Like dear god I hope I did this right. But once it’s clear the kid is having the time of their lives, he relaxes a bit. It’s easier than originally anticipated. 

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

Off season mornings are lazy in the way the summer mornings as a kid used to feel. Joe holds his partner a little closer, begs them not to get out of the bed just yet. Kisses at their shoulder. Whines if either one of them leaves the bed first, “You can’t leave me like this.”

“Baby, I have to go to work.”

“No, you don’t have to. You have to stay here with me.”

His pout is met with several kisses--a series of pecks before he snakes his arm around their waist, pulling them in for deeper kisses. Kisses that are broken apart only by inhales, not even the sighs, or the groans stop them. Every touch sends goosebumps over skin. 

“This bed is so big and so warm. Why would you ever want to leave it? Leave me?” Joe whispers. His voice is still thick with sleep, heavier and deeper than usual. 

“I don’t,” is the first reply. “But I have a job. That I am going to do. Even if it means that I must, out of obligation, not want, leave you and this big warm bed.”

“When you gonna let me take care of you, hmm? Ever going to let me do that?”

The tut of laughter whispers over his jaw. “When we’re both old and I have to spoon feed you applesauce and you have to put my teeth in for me.”

“And I will do so happily.”

During the season—he kisses their shoulder, inhales their sweet scent deeply, holds it in his lungs like a promise before whispering “can’t wait to get back to you” before he’s even left. 

He’s as quiet as he can be. Easing open drawers, closing the bathroom door so that light doesn’t bleed through into the bedroom. Joe’s always hyper aware of his clanging around. If he loses his grip on something and it clatters to the ground, he freezes for just a minute listening for any signs of disturbed sleep. He hates the idea that he could wake his partner before it’s necessary. 

If his partner has to wake up before Joe, he’s getting up with them. Even if it’s protested. He hates the idea of them leaving the house without him even getting just ten minutes with them. So yeah, while they’re washing their face, getting dressed, Joe’s fixing the coffee, or tea, or whatever the preferred morning drink is. He’ll pack little treats or slip notes into their lunch bag. 

Joe ensures to send them off with a kiss to each cheek, followed by one to their lips. “Love you. Give ‘em hell today.”

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

There’s a few different kinds of nights. Yet, all of them have one thing they have in common—they’re slow intentionally, an unwinding of the day. Joe and his partner eat dinner slowly. Converse about anything and everything. They shower together, like actually shower together, or one of them will go first while the other is washing their face and brushing their teeth before they swap places. Under the covers, there’s quiet whispering, the TV’s off, phones are plugged in to charge and put on the nightstand, alarms set, and it’s just them. 

If they want to watch something they do it in the living room after their shower, pecking at snacks sometimes, Joe having his scalp teased, Joe brushing his fingers along their back. The huffs and laughs and even the shouts at the show are soft, sacred, just for them. 

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

In a relationship I think once it’s more steady—a few months in—Joe does so the ‘Dad Lore’ drop method. He’s not hiding anything. He just unravels it slowly, dropping pieces when he feels the pull to share things. 

The room is quiet, the shuffle between tasks, between the starting of the dishes and the stopping of dinner. A comfortable stretch of silence that doesn’t demand to be filled but can be. And his voice is soft, not a whisper, but low and slow. “Did I ever tell you about the time my brothers and I nearly got arrested?” 

Which of course means Joe spends the next twenty minutes in a murmured exchange about ATV racing. 

The bedroom’s dark, his partner is finishing up in the bathroom. It leaves light bleeding between rooms. Joe’s curled up under the sheets. The sink rushes with water for a moment, then cuts off. Something settles back into a drawer. And finally, just as his partner’s shadow creeps over the floor, the light turns out. The dark haze of them shuffles into the bedroom. Their weight settles onto the mattress—Joe’s body giving into the dip. 

“I used to be afraid of the dark as a kid. Like had a night light kind of afraid,” Joe confesses against their shoulder. His lips are warmed by the press of them into his partner’s flesh. A confession etched in so gingerly it’s nearly missed. 

“Did anything happen?”

“Not that I can remember. I just didn’t like not being able to see. I would have to pretend that my favorite superheroes were in the closet and ready to defend me in my sleep.”

“The dark gives me the heebie jeebies too at times, still. You’re not alone.”

Joe’s tuft of laughter is soft, all an exhale. “I can be your favorite superhero.”

“I think you should leave Chris Evans to Captain America, baby. I like you best as Joe. Still afraid?” The question is soft. No judgement laced the two words. Only genuine curiosity. 

“Not like before, no. I know as a kid it was my overactive imagination. As an adult, I don’t fuck with it. Don’t have to worry about me going into some dark alleyway just for the hell of it. But it doesn’t scare me.” 

Joe unveils himself in those quiet moments and is more than relieved to be met with grace. It’s not that he doesn’t want to bare himself to someone. It’s just that he’s cautious. Takes it slow. 

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

He doesn’t have the patience of a saint outside of kids and old people. But Joe’s more patient than he might first appear. He’s passionate for sure, but he has grace. 

If he and his partner are ever in a disagreement, but never an argument, and things are getting a little intense, he’s the first one to want to hit the brakes. “Do we think we need to pause and decompress a bit more? This back and forth doesn’t feel like it’s productive anymore.” 

Or, if he’s annoyed at other things in life—traffic, the grocery store was out of his favorite snack, he woke up to his back aching—he’ll be quicker to be snappy but he’s good at communicating it most of the time. He’s human so he’s not perfect and does at times have thinner patience than normal. 

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

Joe’s the king of remembering favorite childhood snacks. He keeps notes, remembers the big things easily—birthday, anniversary, what the relationships with parents are like, siblings, which side of the bed they prefer, allergies and dietary concerns, the annoying coworker his partner has. 

At times though, some details take him a second longer to pull up—not forgotten but sometimes blurry. He’s ordering food for himself but he knows that his partner really likes a specific snack from the cafe so while in line he’s studying the menu—not the scone, or the muffin, or the bagel, and when his eyes land on the item—a specific cookie type—it clicks. When it’s doubly confirmed, he jots it down to remember faster next time. If his partner is telling him a story about something that they’ve already mentioned, it’ll take him a second to realize why it sounds so familiar but he’ll let them ramble on.

So it’s all there, stowed away. 

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

Joe’s favorite moment was visiting their hometown. Tucked into the backseat of a car, parked away somewhere. Coordinated lounge fits, matching sneakers which have been slipped off at this point. The stars twinkle above them. A plastic bag filled with gas station goodies paid for by the cash that was rolled into their palms—his partner’s grandfather wouldn’t take no for an answer when they went out earlier in the day to grab something from the grocery store at his request. “Keep the change now,” their grandfather commanded.  

Inside the car, windows cracked just a hair, their conversation is whispered around the radio ads. A low-fi date. Phones are resting in the cup holders—Do Not Disturb on save for their allowed contacts. 

“Slide baby one, baby two, baby I love you. One, two, one two.” The two of you chorus. Joe’s getting it mostly but not fully. His laughter bubbling out of his chest with ease as he tries to keep up with the movements. He’s a little too loose, wrapped in the slight breeze from the window and the light long sleeve that’s pulled up on his forearms, the music playing softly, the sound of his partner’s laughter. He’s at ease. So it doesn’t matter to him if he’s getting it right or not. It’s just fun—relaxing and feels like home. 

It is home—Joe realizes later. In the small moments, a little buzzed off the sugar and the feeling of being safe. So utterly safe. 

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

Oh Joe, yeah Joe is pretty protective in public—laid back but always watching. Do not let someone encroach and not back off—he’s over before the person has time to blink. 

But his partner—oh, his partner is fierce in a way that’s a lot quieter. Food’s wrong than what he ordered, they’re sending it back. Joe’s trying to just exist out in the world some more, it's a low energy day—a day that he’d normally do nothing but he felt cooped up so he asked if they wanted to just get out for like an hour. But he’s out and folks are starting to recognize him but his partner swoops in from further down the aisle, “I think I want a nap.” 

Joe’s brows furrow but he nods, dropping the candle that’s actually needed back onto the glass shelf. “Everything okay?”

“Tired. That’s all.”

“Yeah okay. We can go home to take a nap.” He tucks them under his arm, head low to continue checking in and when they’re in the car, not out of the parking space, they tell Joe that they’re okay, just noticed what looked like was going to be crowd. 

Joe exhales, knows he would not have had the energy for that. “Thanks for that.” 

“Anytime, my love.” 

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

Joe’s a big believer in if my partner is doing something routinely, then I’m learning it and doing it too. So Joe’s helping with grocery shopping, picking up the normal routine skincare and hair care products. He’s watchful in a way that’s careful without being overbearing. 

Dates—Joe’s keeping a running list of things and places that have been mentioned. He knows he’s good at remembering but god does it help him to have that list.

Gifts—these are not his strong suit. Joe knows this. Everyone knows this. He’s paying attention. But sometimes he’s not sure how to translate it. It’s like vaguely knowing bits and pieces of a language studied years ago but he’s not able to get the full picture—just a gist of it. Him and his partner just keep a running google doc that he can choose from and they have to promise not to buy it for themselves first if it’s in the doc. It helps that it’s never known when these will come. But this man tried so hard the first few times. But the jewelry was in a metal type not worn often (though the vibe was right), or he had pieces like you like a specific brand of shoes but he wasn’t sure if the size so he sort of flailed for a moment before opting in a gift card (not a bad option but he wanted to do better). Joe has all the right context clues and he tried his absolute damndest before the google doc. 

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

Joe has a bad habit of leaving dishes for days. They’ll be finished or scraped and sitting with water but he will leave them behind sometimes—not even in the dishwasher. It’s the absolute worst with any of his protein shakers. It’s not as bad as it used to be but he still does it especially if he’s rushing. 

If Joe washes the dishes sometimes he’ll leave the dish water especially if he was in the middle of making a snack that requires another plate. He’s like “why waste perfectly good water?”

“Joe, there’s no bubbles left. This water has been sitting for hours.”

“Okay—yeah you’re right about that.” He drains the sink and wipes down the basin. 

His socks are everywhere. Everywhere. Never in the bin. Near the bin. On the floor. In the bathroom. But not in the laundry basket. 

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

Joe—not terribly so. He wants to look good. He takes care of himself but he really is a get in the shower, scrub real good, get out the shower type. He takes a few more minutes on his hair and face. Picking an outfit can take him the longest. The first time his partner picked out an outfit for date night for him, Joe swore he’d propose right then and there. He loves being dressed by them. 

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

Not incomplete, just not as full—a low grade ache. Like when he rehabbed his wrist. Just a little less like himself but still Joe.  

Joe never understood the concept of “my person” until he met his partner. Someone who gets him. Someone who’s more focused on him as a person and not him as the athlete. Likes him best when he’s belching from sucking down the can of Sprite too fast. 

Joe feels more like himself when they’re around. When it’s the two of them and he doesn’t have a mask to put up in front of himself. When it’s the guy who recites Spongebob when it’s a low rumble in the background and you’re parroting the response back to him. He feels so at ease. Like when someone lies out in the sun and the warmth pulls them in the limbo between awake and asleep--utterly relaxed and stress free. 

Joe feels like Joe around his partner. He misses them when he’s away. Longs for the second he can curl his arms around them again. But it’s not a sharp missing, not an inability to operate without them, but it’s always there, a throb at the base of his skull, the realization, God, I love them. Love being around them. When can I do that again? 

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

Joe loves a good tabletop RPG or board game. Settlers of Catan is nasty work with Joe—so much so, he is utterly ruthless even with his partner. Codenames with Joe and his partner or Joe and Ja’Marr is lethal—the mindmeld is unparalleled. No one wants to play with Joe at all.

“It’s like playing a fucking computer,” Tee huffs after getting shafted on the teams for Codenames with Joe paired with his partner. “You two on some E.T. shit.”

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

I don’t see Joe being with a heavy smoker-- house, clothes, and car smell like nicotine kind of smoker. He smokes and it’s fine in doses but chain smoking is a bit of a hard line for him. 

Joe’s also a texture guy. If something’s too slimy, it gets to him. He’ll eat it if it’s like the only thing available, but he’s pretty particular about the texture of foods. 

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

Joe has to rub his feet on his partner’s like crickets. One because their feet are freezing and he’s not dealing with cold feet for half an hour each night and two because it means he can throw his leg over theirs and hug them to his chest. There’s no escaping a sleepy Joe. Don’t even think about it. 

[waterrinmelonn]

I've been itching to read a fanfic of LaDS characters as modern rich kids going to College. It was at a point where I actually started drawing the thought in my previous post but that's still not enough to quench my mind so here's the idea. For anyone who wants to take this idea and actually make something out of it be my guest!✨

So I wanted to change things up a notch. My idea for this AU is that all of them are international students studying in the same Prestigious University but with different degrees:

Zayne - Bachelor of Medicine.

He'd be a chinese international student and follow in his parents footsteps of becoming a Doctor. He's actually around the same age as MC Here. He's famous for participating and winning many international competitions (e.g. math olympiad, chess championships, international science fairs, etc). He eventually got many scholarships and was accepted to many other prestigious schools but ultimately decided to settle for something unexpected. Many of his relatives are proud of him but he found very few things to enjoy during his youth thanks to the pressure he felt so it was hard for him to show or experience enjoyment in his life. His achievements go beyond his age and if he wanted, he could have actually probably graduated and become a doctor much younger than this. But he had a feeling that being patient would reward him with something more fulfilling.

Sylus - Bachelor of Mechanical Engineering

I think we can all agree he'd be a Chaebol but like, in a good way. His father is a Korean businessman(who he doesn't get along with) and his mother was a Russian model(he loves his strong-willed mother). He ultimately decided to go study abroad to piss off his dad who was trying to force him to follow in his shoes by studying under business. Everyone in his family back in Korea saw him as a thorn but they couldn't really do anything about his decisions since he was the only heir to his Father's company. His aura feels charismatic and assertive but he's surprisingly quiet and distant unless he's spoken to, he's also a nerd despite not looking the parts. He's running out of time and excuses to keep him from getting sent back to korea, but he was determined to not let go of his fulfilling life just yet.

Rafayel - Bachelor of Fine Arts

I don't really need to explain much about why he'd choose that degree in the first place. His Japanese Mom(Famous Architect) and Indonesian Dad(Business Man) would raise him in Indonesia for the majority of his childhood, but move back to Japan during his teens. He's actually already a pretty famous painter and has had his work displayed in art galleries during his youth, many of his paintings had already been exhibited but he tends to keep a low profile when it comes to himself due to a past incident he committed. He wanted to take it up a notch and see how far his passion for the arts could go so he decided to study abroad to find more inspiration as a fine arts students. Who knows, he might even find his muse if luck is on his side.

Xavier - Bachelor of Astrophysics

Though he doesn't act like it and doesn't seem to like talking about it, he is in-fact royalty by blood. You'd think he'd be part of the Brits when I mentioned he was royalty but you're wrong. He's a Spanish Baddie. His Mother is a Spanish Princess and his Father is a Chief Police Inspector. He didn't really have much freedom either considering his parents' positions. He grew up with strict discipline by both sides and began to. He finally snapped and rebelled against his parents, ran away from home and stayed with his uncle and aunt(his temporary guardians) for the meantime after getting an approved scholarship at the university he aimed for. He always had an interest for space, stars, and the cosmic frontier. Now that he was no longer bound as "Prince Lumiere or Spain" he could be anything he wanted for the meantime. And he wanted to savor that as much as he could.

Caleb - Bachelor of Aerospace Engineering

I don't have to explain this all that much either. The concept of him still being MCs childhood friend is still there. His Filipino Mother(Aircraft Pilot) and Chinese Father(NASA Scientist) were previously immigrants who grew up in the country they immigrated im. They moved into a nice neighborhood after having Caleb, eventually meeting the neighbors(MCs parent). His love for the skies was always in his heart since childhood so when he received a scholarship to go to his dream school he was livid. He became very popular around the campus pretty quickly. By the time MC entered the same school he already had a lot of connections, secrets, admirers, and was actually part of a fraternity. So many things changed but one thing was for sure, his memories with the ones he loved will stay forever.

Plot wise it can honestly lead to anything but the main idea is they're all studying in the same university with different passions they're pursuing but despite everything, they still manage to get themselves intertwined with her whether they like it or not. It's a concept that's full of drama with a hint of romance, in-depth understanding of each character, how far they're willing to go to reach their goals, and how they show what kind of person they are with handling each situation they're in. I'm not gonna put MCs degree so people can have creative freedom with her based on their interest lol.

[bsdfanaticgonecrazy]

Cg Fukuzawa with Littles Ranpo, Yosano, Dazai: Part 2

I get way too much inspiration in the middle of the night.

Fukuzawa refuses to give any of the Littles sugar. They get a sugar high very easily and will absolutely wreck the house. Plus, someone always gets hurt, mostly Ranpo and Dazai.

With Ranpo, at first, he used to just try to walk it off, but that's before he realized he could get something out of it. After that, he will have a mini meltdown to get an extra candy. Bonus points if he was already cut off from candy from the day.

With Dazai, it's more of him doing it to express his emotions. Since he grew up, he never really allowed himself to feel emotions. Any chance he gets to show them, he will go to the fullest. Fukuzawa will just hold and cuddle him while he cries it out.

Yosano will actively get hurt and will either be unfazed by it or walk it off. Or tell someone and just say, "Oh, it's fine, I get hurt worse than this all the time." Which causes Fukuzawa to worry more than he already is.

Fukuzawa has an entire journal dedicated to tracking how fast he can put each little thing to sleep. He will use this to get them to go to sleep faster, but only if he absolutely needs to. And it only works at certain times for each little depending on the day or how old they are in headspace at the moment.

For example, it usually works on Ranpo, especially if you turn it into a competition. When he's in a younger headspace, Fukuzawa just needs to get him tired enough to agree to go to sleep on his own. Generally, the younger Ranpo regresses the more complaint he is.

With Yosano, most of the time she does exactly as she's told with no push back for sleeping later. Sometimes, if she's tired enough, she'll put herself to sleep. Because, quote "You're taking too long and I wanna sleep now."

With Dazai, he will put up a fight. Whether it be because he just doesn't want to sleep that night or because he's having nightmares again and doesn't want to face them. And since Dazai goes on a complete verbal shutdown, usually when he's regressed. They came up with a system so Dazai would be able to communicate his needs without having to talk.

They have a whole designated little room that's right across from Fukuzawa's home office. It's kinda like a mix between a playroom and a nursery. Because they do have beds in there to sleep in when little, and all of their toys are in there.

That's where Ranpo and Yosano play when Fukuzawa has something to do in the office. Other than that, they are full living room kids. Dazai will usually stay glued to Fukuzawa's side at all times. When he's working on some paperwork in his office. He will either be set on his lap, or a blanket on the floor that has a few toys, but still within arm's reach. And if it's nap time and he's still feeling clingy, Fukuzawa will set up his playpen right next to him.

[sociallyawkwardseal]

Prompt: Fictober Day 1: "That was good work."

Fandom: Lumine

Summary: Camille and Kody have a brief conversation.

Content Warnings: N/A

Words: 1,249

Camille watched a series of bottles shift between Kody’s hands; once the green liquid from one vial had been drained into another, thicker, clear substance, Kody would reach for another, his expression not changing past the subtle twice of his nose as the scents mingled. The green itself spread and fell slowly, as if he had just dropped liquid food dye into watery corn syrup.

“Don’t hesitate,” Camille reminded him, her palm pressed to her cheek. “If you do, it’s going to end up tasting acidic.”

Kody huffed in response, his hands lingering over another tube held in a small wooden rack. “Don’t distract me.”

“You’re stalling.”

“Because you’re distracting me.”

A quiet hum of acknowledgment mingled with amusement caught behind Camille’s now-closed lips as she watched him continue, now more focused than before as he slowly poured half of the liquid in with the mixture.

“What, you’re not gonna get onto me for using too much or too little?” As he spoke, Kody’s bitter gaze flickered up long enough to glance at the other. He slowly reached out for the stirring stick, eyes stuck on Camille as he pulled it closer. “Or you’re not gonna tell me to be careful about how I stir it?”

“Nope, not yet. I’m just waiting and watching now.” Camille smiled a bit, watching as he stirred slowly, almost meticulously. His focus had seemed to double after he grew quiet. “What happened to me not distracting you?”

“If I’m just complaining about you, then I’m not getting distracted. But if you’re interrupting me, then I’m gonna lose focus. How long does this even need to be stirred?”

“Didn’t you read the note I left you?”

“I can’t read Terranian yet, and you left it in Terranian.”

Camille could feel her smile break as he reminded her—though, the only actual change on her expression was a subtle twitch of her lips. Her brain went blank, the only word crossing her mind for a moment being ‘shit’ as she stared at the boy now working silently across from her.

That’s right, you and Sera couldn’t talk at all when you first met her.

“How did you follow the instructions up until now?”

“Eyeballed it. I made something similar before, so, it’s not like it’s a big deal. Plus, it’s not like I even asked you to actually write instructions down for me—I just asked if you had the ingredients.”

“Given how Lumine has talked about how you make your potions… That’s not really reassuring.”

“I knew what I was doing then, too.”

“Did you?”

Kody grew quiet, pulling the stick out as he transferred the syrup-consistency potion into another glass bottle and seal it.

“I didn’t know how it was actually going to react with him, but I knew it wouldn’t kill him. I knew what I put in it, and that nothing in it would mix badly together to be that bad.”

“M-hm. At least there’s that, I guess.”

“I know what I’m doing.”

Feels like there should be a ‘usually’ there, Camille said silently, watching Kody put the vial aside and seal the remaining ingredients. You’ve got a long way to go, but. That doesn’t mean you haven’t studied hard already.

“I’ll clean everything up, too. So. Don’t worry about me making things more of a mess than they already are.”

“Don’t worry about it, I’ll get it before I go out today.” Camille waved her hand, watching as Kody pushed himself up. He gathered the emptied and now-dirtied dishes and tools and took them towards the small kitchen. “If you’re going to try and clean up anyway, just drop them off in the sink that’s not by the fridge. It’s the one that’s for anything that isn’t a fruit or vegetable. Potions, meat, whatever.”

“Alright.” Kody did as she instructed, now without any complaint or push-back, and then sat back down across from her. He picked the potion’s bottle back up and held it up to the light, his eyes flickering back and forth through the liquid that almost matched his eye color as he inspected it. “Is it really safe to wash potion bottles next to where you prep meat, though?”

“I mean, nothing I work with in here is toxic. And if it is, then the bottle just gets disposed of.” Camille shrugged, watching him closely. He seemed, at the very least, pleased with the mixture’s consistency and color. “So, what made you want to make something for pain? Everything okay?”

“You’ve been complaining about headaches a lot lately, and clearly, you’re not going to do anything about it yourself.”

Camille felt her smile shatter once again, her lips now fully turning into a frown. “You really noticed that, huh?”

“Lumine did, too. He actually overheard you mention it first.”

“Sera?”

“You actually don’t say anything about it around her, I don’t know if you’re just like. Worried about worrying her or something, but. You don’t even really say it to us, you just kind of say it to yourself and keep doing whatever it is you’re doing.”

Camille dragged her hand down her face as she leaned harder into the back of her chair. “Aghhh. I didn’t even notice.”

“Yeah, well. It’s getting on my nerves, so try this. It’s cool enough now.” He held the bottle out to her, their green eyes meeting as her attention redirected back towards him.

Getting on your nerves? Is that just your way of saying you worry, in this case? Camille hid her smile, eyes meeting his for a brief moment.

She took the bottle from his hands, much smaller than her own, the glass still subtly warm—partially from the mixture, partially from his own hands. “So, you actually sat down and made this for me?”

“Hopefully it’s not too acidic from you distracting me.”

Judging by his half-smirk, it was less of a concern, and more of a facetious comment. Something to poke and prod at her.

She couldn’t help but smile a bit more, seeing how confident he was. How sure he was that, even though she distracted him so much by talking to him, it would still be alright. Even if he silently struggled with it on most days, she always tried to take the moments that he was so sure of himself in good spirits.

“Ha. Even if it was, I’ve definitely had worse than something that’s a little bit acidic. I’ve probably had coffee worse than it, honestly.” She opened it, sniffed, and hen downed it as quickly as possible. If it was actually acidic, she would—hopefully—not even notice. If anything, it would likely feel no worse than mild heartburn—and at worse, severe heartburn.

“Well, was it?”

She waited for a moment, expecting an aftertaste of… Something. Bitterness. Something akin to bile. An incorrect texture from overmixing, adding one ingredient too soon, overheating it, letting it get too cool during the cooking process rather than letting it cool after, something.

But it was no different from what she would have made herself for a patient. Slightly sweet, a bit sticky—it would definitely feel better if she had chased it down with warm water or something else. But it was, actually, up to her standards.

“Not at all, actually.” She said, twisting the neck of the bottle in her fingers. “That was good work, Kody.”

“Yeah? Told you I knew what I was doing. Hope it helps, it’ll probably take a little bit, but.”

[alice-angel12x]

The complicated heart

I want some Angst so here is some Pure Vanilla x Y/n knight cookie. Also pt.1 of overall fanfic story.... I guess. (Blue Knight)

Part 2 -> this way

This is the last thing Y/n Cookie wants to wake up to? Especially on the first night when the two of them share a bed together. They could only silently stare at Pure Vanilla's sleeping form. He is a bit of a sleep talker.

That one sentence fills Y/n's mind with so many questions. From "Is that what he really feels? If he still feels that way, why is he with me? I can never measure up to someone like her."

Suddenly, sharing this space didn't feel right. Y/n slowly tries to wiggle out of the entanglement of Pure vanilla's arms. Only for him to cuddle closer to them, clinging onto them. With a sigh, they twist and turn, eventually escaping Pure Vanilla's grip. Y/n quickly replaced themselves with a pillow in his arms.

Y/n could feel their heart twist in their chest as they decided to sleep on the couch in Pure Vanilla's chambers. As emotions run high inside Y/n, they do their best to suppress them with logic.

'Of course. Those two have been friends since the beginning. '

Y/n thought to themselves, but it did little to hold back tears and the ache in their chests. They shut their eyes and tried to sleep it off. Thankfully, morning couldn't come any quicker.

Pure vanilla woke up with a yawn as he slowly opened his eyes. Which widden in shock when he found himself alone on the bed. Jolting up his eyes search around his room, soon landing on a lone figure by the window.

"Y/n? Good morning." Pure vanilla smile as he walks over to them. "You're up early."

"Yeah," Y/n says, trying to put on their best smile. It's very weak.

"Are you alright, Y/n?" Pure vanilla asked as he gently wrapped his arms around them. Giving a light peck on their shoulder

Y/n was silent for a bit, contemplating what to say. They turned to face Pure Vanila and gently returned the hug.

"Can I be completely transparent with you?" They asked the ancient healer.

"Of course, love," Pure vanilla welcomes as he guides them to a chair.

So Y/n would tell Pure Vanilla what he said at night, and how it makes them nervous about where his heart truly lies. Eventually, the two sat in an awkward silence.

“So where does White Lily cookie place in your heart?" Y/n asked with a calm sorrow.

Pure vanilla opened his mouth to say something, but there was no sound. Y/n could already see the conflict in Vanilla's expression. Their heart wanted to shatter than and there, but sucking in a deep breath they put on a brave face.

"Seems you need some time to search your heart," Y/n sighs as they stand to leave.

"Y/n... Im sorry. After all this time, I thought I would be past this," Pure Vanilla apologized, gripping his knee in, shame? Sorrow perhaps.

"I mean... You two have been through almost everything together for hundreds of years. Childhood friends, schoolmates, and a close team of heroes, and you lived long lives together. Something like that won't be washed away with-," Y/n stops themselves. "I've only been with you for a year or two now.

"Don't say that. I loved the times we shared together," Pure Vanilla said as he stands to stop Y/n with a hug. "I don't know why the thought of White Lily came rushing to me like this. It's been happening for a few nights now."

"It's a sign prehaps. That you might see her soon," Y/n says with a sad smile.

"Do you think so? White Lily Cookie... Changed and became Dark entress Cookie. How would that be possible?" Pure vanilla asked with surprise.

"If she is like how you describe her, then I wouldn't put it past her to actually seek out the witches. And we have no idea which one she met, meaning anything could have happened," Y/n said, thinking deeply. "Tell me, along with your dream. Did anything else stand out to you?"

"Yes, a voice. It was calling out to me, to go to beast yeast," Pure vanilla said as he recalled his dream.

"Then you have your path. And if I'm not mistaken, Entranchress cookie has a strong hold there," Y/n said when suddenly images flash in their mind.

A Map, a shattered soul jam, fairy wings, a giant tree, and a bright light over beast yeast.

"Y/n? Y/n, did you think of something?" Pure vanilla asked.

"You... You might actually are being called. You must go quickly," Y/n said suddenly.

"Wha- Why so suddenly?" Pure vanilla asked in surprise.

"You might find who you're looking for there. I believe that white lily cookie might be there," Y/n said. " White Lily's soul is still out there."

As Y/n held his hands, they could see it. Hope and a bit of something else flash in Pure Vanilla's eyes.

"Thank You Y/n! I shall depart to Beast yeast," Pure Vanilla cookie thanked with a bright smile. "Wait for me, White Lily cookie."

Pure vanilla quickly leaves to prepare everything for this dangerous journey. Y/n stood there, trying to hold back tears.

'Don't cry, Y/n. He thought he had lost his friend and might see her again. Don't be selfish,' Y/n silently scolded themselves.

Days passed as Pure Vanilla spent all his time gathering all that he would need for such a journey. One day, from morning to noon, Y/n mindlessly wandered the streets when a familiar voice calls out to them.

"Y/n Knight Cookie!" Gingerbrave called out.

"Ah, Gingerbrave, strawberry Cookie, and wizard Cookie. How can I help you?" Y/n smiles warmly at the young cookies.

"Pure Vanilla cookie has asked us to accompany him to beast yeast, and we wanted to ask for you to come with us," Gingerbrave said.

"What?! Why Me?" Y/n asked nervesly.

"Beast yeast is a big unknown to us, so we need as many strong cookies to help," Wizard cookie explained.

"And we've seen you fight waffle bots by yourself. Your help would be appreciated," Strawberry Cookie said.

Y/n wanted to say no, but the three younger ones looked up to them with baby doll eyes. Crumbling their resolve to turn them down. The three practically dragged them to the airship.

"Gingerbrave! Everything is ready. did you find what you-" Pure vanilla pauses, surprised to see Y/n before him.

Another awkward silence falls between them. The ancient hero was a bit embarrassed after remembering how their last conversation went. Pure vanilla wanted to say something, but Y/n raised their hand.

"We have a friend to save, and that is more important right now," Y/n Cookie said a bit strenly.

Gingerbrave and co, could feel the strange tension. So they hurried onto the ship.

"Y/n cookie," Pure vanilla said softly.

"I am your knight and am ready to serve," Y/n kneeled, stoic.

They get up to walk onto the ship.

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

Part 2 out

[phone4pills]

𝒕𝒂𝒌𝒆𝒏!chris plans a date with his girlfriend while fucking you

“So… pizza?” He questioned, one hand holding the phone to his ear while he used the other to give his length a few strokes. Chris had you on both knees with your head down on the pillow and he loved nothing more than the arch in your back as you waited impatiently for him to give you what you wanted.

Chris’ girlfriend hummed over the phone, talking about her unfinished makeup and how she’d be ready by 7. Well one of you would finish by 7. Funny. You had no time to laugh, no air as you buried you face in the silk of the cushion when Chris pushed into you, burying himself in your heat. The stretch was undeniable. “Fuckk…” Your moans were muffled as his hand came lever your ass, thumb stroking up and down. The cold sensation of his bracelet lingered on your skin. He tutted. “Yeah yeah whatever. Gonna uber?”

You couldn’t hear the other end very well; too lost in the fog of the moment. You knew it didn’t mean much to Chris, he was getting more later tonight from his girl anyway but you’d been needed someone who could do you right. And Chris Sturniolo was the only man that knew where to hit hard, where to grab you, where to kiss, where to make you feel so much pleasure you’d end up in tears.

After hanging up, Chris focused of his attention onto you. Hitting even deeper to chase after the relief he’d been needing all week. His girlfriend wouldn’t drop this whole ‘promise ring’ thing and he was tired of making excuses for not buying one. But he wasn’t going to get her one any time soon either. Was she really worth it?

The more he thought about it, the faster he went in an attempt to kick all of it out of his mind. And the way your ass bounced when he sunk in made it easy to forget all of it. “So fuckin’ pretty.” He whispered, knowing you were already on edge. Knowing that a little praise would help you reach your climax. You came hard, spilling all over his cock. So much so that Chris couldn’t hold his own release in any longer, flooding your own cum back into you with his own.

He planted a kiss on your lower back, admiring you for a mere second before getting up. He hated staying after sex, always making it his priority to leave quickly. So he grabbed his phone and called his girlfriend once more. “Change of plans. I’m gonna take a shower and pick you up.”

short one for a request !! I swear I’ll put my taglist to use eventually for actual fanfics but no taglist for blurbs. also I’ll update my masterlist but you can find way more in my ‘bundles’ post based off of my aus. thank you for readingg !

- ©phone4pills

[sexy-monster-fucker]

But Why’s It Feel So Good?

John Walker x Thunderbolts*!Reader Sex Pollen

Summary: While out on a mission together, Reader and John stumble into a researchers trap. Leading to them being doused in an unnamed chemical. [Reader is a former H.Y.D.R.A. Agent with combat experience, along with an endurance boost. Codename: Felidae.]

CW: Thunderbolts* spoilers, kinda enemies to lovers (isn’t everything with John), mutual pining (it's my favorite), typical sex pollen, blood, fighting, sex fantasy, masturbation, biting, oral f!receiving, breeding kink, p in v, creampie,

a/n: if you told me 3 years ago I would be writing a John Walker fanfic I would’ve laughed in your face and called you a liar. But after Thunderbolts*?? I am eating my words

Help Me Move?

title track 🎶🥀

~~~

Stealth.

It was like second nature to you.

Trained for years by H.Y.D.R.A. to go unnoticed. Catlike reflexes accompanied by your ability to take a hit made you a reliable asset. Blending in to any and all environments. Able to disappear on a moments notice. Light on your feet and agile.

Making sure to take all you learned with you when you finally escaped the wretched hooks of H.Y.D.R.A. Being taken in by S.H.I.E.L.D. and finally regaining cognitive clarity. Disgusted by the actions you had committed under their leadership. Having to take time for personal growth and change. Learning alongside some operatives from the original Avengers.

Eventually parting ways once security had been breached. Not feeling safe and protected by those who you had grown fond of. Understanding why some heroes chose to go off grid. Even if it basically deemed you an Anti-Hero. It was worth it, if it meant you got control of your own life back.

Needing to take work from Valentina just to make sure you could keep the lights on. She begged for you to take some type of codename. Lynx. Or Oncilla. Or Jaguarundi. Or—

“You’re just naming types of cats,” you had said rolling your eyes on the end of the line.

“Well, you’re kinda like a cat… Oh! How about ‘Felidae’? Kinda sexy right?” Valentina had said, adding an accent to the word.

You scoffed. Accepting the scientific name over any specifics. You wondered if she thought you were stupid, or just unaware. Maybe she just thought she was smarter than anyone else.

After the chaos that Sentry had caused, you found yourself forced into a New Avengers Membership. Bonding deeply with your new teammates along the way. Albeit apprehensive at first. Especially now that you all shared a living quarter.

The Team was still trying to find its footing. What exactly it needed to be doing to make sure they were protecting the public to the best of their abilities. Although, the government was apprehensive to work alongside you all. Withholding important information about the crisis in space. Loosing contact with some of the remaining Avengers and S.H.I.E.L.D. operatives.

This was not ideal. You knew the last thing needed was the government involved in the Avengers. Something Steve Rogers had fought for all those years ago. Leading to the original team breaking up. But what everyone did not understand was the power Valentina had over the public. Able to make or break you as a symbol without so much as lifting a finger.

You had to be here.

Even if here meant half a mile deep in some long forgotten about Headquarters. Intel suggested a former H.Y.D.R.A. Scientist was hiding at the lowest level. Leading to you and John Walker to be sent to investigate.

Valentina called it ‘team building.’ Separating you off into smaller groups so that you could learn to work together. Which sometimes worked out really well in your favor. When you got paired up with another teammate who matched your skillset perfectly. Bucky and Yelena could provide some strength that you lacked. Also being able to endure harder hits than you. Or Ava, who was able to completely scout out an area without being spotted. Secret missions were your favorite with her. Taking bets on which of you could be quieter.

And sometimes you would get paired up with someone like Alexei. Loud and quick to rush in without a plan. Which was not all bad, he made it a lot easier for you to hide when he was the loudest in any room he was in. Any time paired up with Bob consisted of mundane house chores. Nothing you could really complain about. Even if you did hate doing the dishes.

But then there was John. Cocky and sarcastic more often than not. Thinking he was the head of any and all missions you went on. Rude on top of it all. And the two of you seemed to butt heads more than any other team members. Maybe it was because you could not ignore his constant need to be right. Maybe it was how you saw right through his bullshit. He saw through yours too.

It was not that you hated him. Quite the opposite. You found his war stories endearing. Sometimes finding yourself laughing at an offhanded joke he would make. Having to hide your smile behind your hand because you could not show any sign of vulnerability to anyone. Even if you did find your walls crumbling around John when you spent personal time together. Seemingly always sitting together on movie nights. Or sometimes making him coffee first thing in the morning. Because, of course, he never rested.

Chalking it all up to a mutual understanding. Refusing to acknowledge the way your stomach would flutter when your hands would brush against one another. Or the times he would walk you to your corridor after a particularly scary movie.

"You're scared," you would tease.

"Am not. I was in Afghanistan, you think some cheap jumpscare could get to me?"

And you would laugh. Harder than you meant to. Nose scrunching up and hand glazing down his chest. John would smile while your eyes were closed. Going back to annoyed when you would look back at him.

Moments like this were nonexistent on missions together. It caused a certain level of tension to form between you. Pre-mediately angry and irritated with one another. Jaws tight and words not spoken. Fists balled up between your leather gloves. John's newly taco-shaped shield held up defensively as he led the path down metal stairs. Not even trying to hush his combat boots. Each step echoing against the steel walls.

It was causing your eye to twitch. How could he be so loud when you were practically mute? It was like he did not even care.

You finally reached the landing before delving into the final floor. John sighed. Halting his footsteps and turning to meet you. Your teeth were grinding together as you stared at his ocean eyes. He clicked his teeth together as he spoke, "Alright. The target should be on the next floor. You remember the plan, right?"

"Of course I do," you almost sounded offended, "Do you? I can't imagine he doesn't already know we're here with you stomping down the entire way."

John scoffed, rolling his eyes and waving you off, "Sorry. Not all of us can walk without making sound. Should've brought Ava if you wanted that."

"I would've," you hissed.

"Yeah, yeah," John tightened the strap around his helmet. Staring down into the oddly lit room. Understanding that it had to be a lab. The lab you had been warned about. A rouge H.Y.D.R.A. Scientist had been down here experimenting with different serums of all kinds. No telling what had been cooked up down here.

You followed a few steps behind John. Blue lights burned your eyes as you descended. John hid his gun behind his shield. You kept yours flat at your side. It was obscenely quiet. Almost ringing in your ears. It smelt weird and off-putting. Shelves with things stored in multi-colored liquids decorated every surface. It was like something from the mad scientist part of a haunted house. Your skin crawled.

Both sets of eyes scanned the entire room. Not a single sign of life. Hissing of a nearby pipe startled you internally. Not outwardly reacting other than you softly blowing out your breath.

John turned and pressed his finger to his lips. Silencing you.

Your blood boiled.

Fucking asshole.

You split, rounding the same glass container on opposite sides. Surprised to see the decaying body of the scientist slumped back in his chair. Hand grasping a vile, remnants of a bright blue substance stained his shirt.

"Must've been testing on himself," you whispered.

"See where that got you. Nazi scum," John stood tall. Tucking his gun back into its holster.

In the relief you felt from not having to fight, you both failed to see the infrared imager pinned to the wall. He knew someone would come looking for him. He was an evil genius after all. And he would be damned if anyone got to his research without consequences. The high pitched hum of the machine triggering clued you in.

"Walker, it's a trap!" you called out to your teammate. Hand absentmindedly reaching out to him as if you could protect him from whatever was going to happen. John backed up to you as fast as he could, but it all happened so fast.

Thick smog poured from every single vent. Hands flying up to cover your mouths, squinting and coughing. Smoke filling your lungs. Sticking to your tongue and throat. Tasting absolutely horrible. Something rancid, what you had to imagine a potent poison would taste.

John's hand gripped your shoulder to bring your attention to his face. He pointed towards the exit not wanting to inhale anymore fumes. His eyes watered as he guided you out of the room. Quickly climbing back up the stairs you had entered in on. Tripping at the last step and tumbling forward. Catching yourself on your hands, grunting at the way your knee skid against the floor. Not really painful. Just felt like the cherry on top of it all.

John extended his arm out to you, locking fingers around forearms as he hoisted you back up. The smoke beginning to follow slowly behind you.

"We've gotta go," John tugged you behind him. Running up the stairs as fast as your legs would allow it. He called in a report, letting the rest of the team know it was a trap. And that both of you had been exposed to some unknown gas. Both of you still coughing by the time you reached the top floor. Quick to exit the abandoned building.

You hunched over yourself. Huffing for air that could not fill yours lungs enough. Hands grasping your knees as you stared at the dirt. Body covered head to toe in sweat from, what had to be, the fastest you had ever gotten up half a mile of stairs. John stood with his hands on his hips across from you. His helmet discarded onto the ground. Head leaned back as he loudly groaned. Kicking the metal across the ground.

You looked up at him. His face was flushed, mostly from the run but also from his frustration. Finally looking over at you. Bloodshot morning skylike eyes stared at you. Lips parted and swollen from where he had been licking them.

Had he always looked this handsome?

"You alright?"

You nodded silently. Stomach churning from the heat and blocked airway. You wanted to lay down so badly. The dirt called to you like your bed after a long mission. But a nice shower sounded better. Especially with how hot your skin was right now. Limbs tingling like your nervous system was shot. Confused and a little worried about what would happen to you in the following hours.

"Feel any different?"

John patted his hands down his torso. Brows knitting together as he swallowed, "No. Just really hot."

"Yeah, me too."

There was no telling what that smoke was supposed to do to you. H.Y.D.R.A. had a myriad of freaks on their staff. All willing to experiment for anything that even slightly tickled their fancy. Unashamed. Brutal. Cruel.

"Guess the stuff wasn't meant to kill us or we wouldn't have made it up those stairs," you stretched your back. Hands meeting your hips as you strained.

"Right. Could have just been a really gross distraction. A way to make sure we could not stay to get any more information," John cupped his jaw as he stared out over the ridge, "No, that's too petty for H.Y.D.R.A."

"It really isn't," you halfway laughed, "I saw them gut a guy because he wore the wrong color uniform."

John's brows remained tight as he stared at you. Not sure what was so funny about that. Also not enjoying being corrected.

You sealed your lips shut, eyes jumping up as you looked away from him. Sometimes you forgot how touchy of a subject being a former H.Y.D.R.A. operative was. It was so far into your past that you coped by cracking little jokes. Usually ending with people looking at you the same way John was right now.

The buzzing of the helicarrier caught both your attention as it hovered above you. Shielding your eyes from the harsh sunset. The roped stairs unfolded in front of you. Looking to John with a nod.

“Ladies first,” he faked chivalry, putting his stupid helmet back on.

You smirked at him. Rolling your eyes as you started up. John followed closely behind you.

Something shifted inside him. His eyes found themselves unable to remove from your ass. Tight pants highlighting every curve and dip. His throat burned as he tried to catch his breath. Cock jumping for a moment when he imagined how it would look bare and imprinted with his hands. Trying to shake off the feeling.

You sighed as you reached your seat. Sluggishly buckling yourself in before anyone had the chanc to ask any question. John stood across from you, hand gripping one of the straps that hung down from the ceiling. Your head was leaned back trying to relax even for a moment. His hovering making it difficult. Something about his presence had your heart palpitating.

“You can sit down,” you sighed.

John took that as a challenge. Not liking the attitude you sported, “I’m fine.”

You scoffed and rolled your eyes. Too exhausted to even play this game with him. Eyes falling shut trying to steady your breathing. Unable to cool your body’s temperature. Clothes feeling tight and sticky. Causing you even more discomfort and aggravation.

“What happened, you two?” Alexei’s voice sounded over the intercoms. Scratchy from the old headset he wore. Microphone far older than the aircraft itself.

“He knew we would be coming. Set up some kind of distraction to make us to leave,” John shouted over the whirring of the blades.

“Should’ve wore those Avengers Gas Masks I ordered! I told you they would come in handy,” Alexei’s singsong voice chimed.

Always with the stupid merchandise.

John looked at you. Throwing a hand up to the side and shaking his head. Sharing in your annoyance for Alexei’s positivity. You shrugged in response. Neither of you caring to have a smart mouthed rebuttal, knowing it would more than likely go over Alexei’s head.

The aircraft began its descent onto the landing pad. Opting to unbuckle and stand, straps irritating your skin. Jaw locked as you huffed out of your nose. Pressing up on your tiptoes to stretch your calves.

A sudden bounce of turbulence caused you to fall forward. Pressing your entire body flush against John’s. Up against the wall behind him. His hand grasped your hip as you held onto his shoulder.

It burned.

Inflaming your skin at the contact. Air hitched up in your throat. Eyes wide as you looked up at him. His heart pounded under your touch. Pain coursing through his body from where you touched him. Both of your faces flushed entirely. Your core pulsed. The smell of his natural musk mixing in with stale cologne had you feeling weak in the knees.

Awkwardly standing back on your feet. Clearing your throat as you turned to hop out of the helicarrier. Making sure to rush inside the tower. Leaving John behind in your dust. Waving off everyone as you entered, eyes locked ahead of you. Your goal only a few more steps away.

Your door sealed shut behind you. Your back resting against it as you grasped at your chest. Confusion overwhelming you. The throbbing between your legs not allowing you to think straight.

What was happening to you?

You shedded your clothes off as you trekked to the bathroom. Hunching over your sink when the pain began absorbing into your gut. Growling as you looked up at yourself in the mirror. Sweat decorated your face.

Suddenly images of John behind you filled your mind. His strong hands holding tightly onto your waist. Broad chest and large shoulders on display. Hips nestled into your own. Nude bodies pressed together where it really mattered.

You gasped. Hands coming up to cover your face. Shaking your head in disbelief. Fingers tugging down your face. Groaning with a hint of unease.

Turning the knobs to a mild setting. Shower raining down into the shallow tub. Stepping inside to try and wash away the days mission. It felt like a thousand tiny razor blades against your skin. Gritting away the pain. Forcing your body under the water. You needed to get this off you somehow. Attempting to adjust the temperature, maybe you just had it too hot? Even the cold water burned down your body.

You imagined his hands reaching around you from behind. Large palms holding your breasts in them. Thumbs flicking over your nipples. His bearded chin gently resting upon your shoulder, breathing heavily into your ear. Lips kissing directly below it.

You moaned. Knees buckling as you fell forward, nails scratching against the tile to brace yourself. Your cunt begged. Even when you tried to relieve yourself, it was not enough. Humping against your own hand trying to satisfy the desire overtaking you.

John’s image flooded your mind. The way you imagined his jaw would lock while fucking into you. Or how his calloused hands would feel around your throat. How his cock would stretch you perfectly.

You hurried to clean yourself off. Needing to find John. Your body craved his presence. Knowing he was somewhere in the tower. Not caring where, just needing to be with him. Towel drying your body and hair, throwing on some loungewear without even bothering to put underwear on. It was too uncomfortable anyway.

You stood in the hallway with your eyes closed. Allowing your body to urge you in what direction you needed to go. Downstairs.

You casually and quietly headed for the stairs. The ding of the elevator would give you away. Trying to make sure no one else followed you. Your senses were heightened. Everything punched into overdrive as you followed your body’s natural instinct.

The workout room.

You stood in front of the sliding, frosted glass door. Taking a deep breath.

This was stupid, you thought. Second guessing this decision. It was so ridiculous to assume John could feel this too. Or that he would even want to see you.

But you had to know. Holding your breath as you pressed the button to unlock the door. The loud sound of fists hitting something filled the room. Drowning out the sound of the door.

John swung at the punching bag hanging from the low ceiling. Fists burring into the leather over and over. Powder flying off the with each hit. Tank top highlighting his muscular physique. Tape wrapped around his fists. Arms bulging and sweat dripping down his figure.

You swallowed hard. Unsure why you were here. Your body told you it’s where you needed to be. With him. Near him.

It was almost like you could smell him across the room. Musky with a hint of oak from his deodorant. Jaw tight. Blonde locks sticking to his forehead. Sporty shorts hanging around his hips.

You hid in the shadows. Nails digging into the steel wall. Your legs shook. Fighting yourself from walking over to him. Ready to pounce on him like an animal on the hunt.

It hurt. Every inch of his fucking body hurt. No matter what he tried to force in his mind, he could not get you off it. His cock was swollen despite his attempt to relieve himself earlier. Pulsing with need. Hand wrapped around his member while imagining fucking into you. But nothing worked. This was the only way he could even attempt to distract himself. Giving his hands something else to do.

What he really wanted was to have them all over your body. Holding you down by the throat while he shoved his cock as deep inside you as possible. Knowing you would sound so pretty whimpering his name over and over.

He could not understand what had gotten into him. Something filling his veins with arousal. Could it be the smoke the two of you inhaled?

Were you feeling the same way as him?

You hesitated internally. Body moving on its own. Revealing yourself from the shadows. Hands crossed together in front of you. Fawning innocence.

John immediately noticed. Quick to stop swinging and look at you. His throat tightened. Fists balled up at his sides. Chest heaving with each deep breath he took. Your smell was strong to him. Pure sex and flowery. Must have been your body wash. Maybe your shampoo. He could not place it, only that it was you. So unabashedly you.

And, Christ, did he look sexy. Beard glistening with sweat. Hair disheveled. Chest hair peaking out the top of his cutoff. Pretending to not notice the clear outline of his cock through his shorts.

“Hey,” you choked out meekly.

“Hey,” John returned with a huff.

Silently staring at each other, John’s hand rubbing at the back of his neck. Swallowing the lump that had formed in your throat. You fidgeted with your fingers. Hiding your eyes from his stern gaze. You twisted your mouth around. Trying to think of what to say.

“What are you doing here, Y/N?” he broke the silence.

“I… just wanted to make sure you were doing okay,” you said unsure.

His mind rattled with a response. No, I’m not okay. I’ve been so horny since we got back that I could kill someone. Oh, and you’re the only one I can think about right now. How do you explain that to your teammate?

“I’ve been better,” John stepped back on the mats repositioning to swing at them once more, “Would probably be better if our mission hadn’t gone up in smoke.”

“Literally,” you halfheartedly attempted a joke.

you idiot.

“And what about you?” he punctuated his question with a hit against the bag.

“Me? I’m— uh— okay? I guess?”

John’s eyes peered over at you. Lip arched to match his eyebrow. Wondering why you were suddenly being so awkward around him. He worried for a moment that you could see how stiff he was. Maybe read right through him. Knowing there was more you wanted to say but did not.

Your eyes doed at him across the room. His heart shocked throughout his body. Your loose fitting clothing driving him crazy. Wanting to see more of you. Nostrils flaring with each punch and grunt.

The noises he made had your entire body shaking. Slick pooling between your thighs when he would grunt especially loud. Reminding you of the fantasies you had in the shower moments prior. Filling in the gaps from before.

Your hand gripped the fabric of your shirt. Loving watching him beat the shit out of the leather bag.

“Are you just gonna stand there and watch?” John’s cocky tone echoed against the walls. Eyebrows jumping up your forehead at his sassy comment. His hand gesturing in your direction. Venom lacing his words.

Biting your lip as you rubbed your chin with your hand. Face flooding with heat. Embarrassment almost overtaking the burning in your core. Your eyes upturned in sadness.

John’s heart sank into his stomach. You looked pitiful. Like he had just kicked a puppy. Your favorite puppy. He blew his breath out. Hand flattening against his hair. Stamping his foot for a moment doing a semi-circle and facing you once more.

You were all he wanted. His body craved yours like a man lost in the desert craved water. He knew you were the thing to douse the fire burning inside him.

“John—“ was all you got out before it made his insides boil. The low and needy tone that left you.

John punched the bag hard enough to knock it off its chain. Heavy thud slamming onto the floor. Allowing his temper to get the best of him. Member throbbing between his legs not helping with his annoyance. His hands were now on his hips as he turned to face you. Lip twitching as a heavy brow pierced through you.

You folded your arms over your chest. Matching the irritation that decorated his face. Trying to regain your composure. Accidental slip of your facade showing your weakness. Brows arching as you played chicken. One of the two of you would have to crack first.

John knew how to make sure it was you.

His eyes raked down your body. Making it obvious he was checking you out. It caused your face to flush. Throbbing between your legs at the way his blue eyes undressed you.

You spun to have your back to him, “God, you’re unbearable.”

“What was that?” he challenged.

You looked over your shoulder at him, “You heard me.”

“Come say it to my face,” John growled.

You snorted, waving him off with a roll of your eyes.

“Awww. What is it… Felidae? Cat got your tongue?”

That made your muscles tighten. Use of the moronic code name Valentina had given you causing you to grind your teeth together. Eyes narrowing in on the Dime Store Captain America. A fire igniting within you. Different than the roaring flames of arousal.

You dashed toward him. Fist rared back to strike him. Knocking him directly in his jaw. Barely phasing the super soldier. It only made you angrier. Repetitively striking him. Swearing you would wipe that smug grin off his face if it was the last thing you did. His head turned with each punch. Just taking your hits. Blood stained the corner of his mouth. A wicked smile across his lips.

Deciding it was finally enough, he swept your foot out from under you. Your back slammed onto the mats lining the floor. Eyes flying open to look up at him. His head fell to the side as he grinned down at you.

Before you could get back up, he had you pinned down. Strong hands wrapped around your wrists, keeping them above your head. It sent lava throughout your veins. Pooling in your core. Not even mentioning the compromised position you found yourself in with him. The part of him you wanted most hovering directly above where you needed it.

His palms were on fire. Skin to skin contact causing his cock to jump in his shorts. Your smell so sweet to his senses. Wide eyes stared up into his as you panted. Pupils blown with lust. Your eyebrows arched trying to fake intimidation.

Sharing in your panting, you held tight eye contact. Blonde locks plastered to his sweat ridden forehead. He was gorgeous. That was the only thought that could enter you. How beautiful the soldier looked above you. Thick stubble teetering on the cusp of a beard. Lips calling to you. Piercing blue eyes darting between your own.

Your gaze softened. Allowing your eyes to focus on his mouth. Eyelids hooding your vision. And John noticed. Exhaling harder than before. Barely inching forward to close the gap between you.

John’s lips pressed a chaste kiss against the tip of your nose. Testing the waters. It spread along your skin. Igniting your face. His own lips tingling from the contact.

You shifted your head, allowing better access for your lips to interlock. Fireworks exploded. Faltering for a moment when you tried to tug away from his hold on you. Wanting to pull him as close as possible. Hands begging to dig into his scruffy cheeks. Ironlike taste filling your own.

The burn inside you cooled momentarily. This was exactly what you needed. The only thing capable of calming the storm inside you. John’s forehead rested against yours as he closed his eyes.

“What’s going on with us?” John exhaled, hint of a smile on his face.

“I have no idea. But I know I want you,” you said airy. Lips chasing after his when he pulled back a little.

John released his hold on you. Hands grasped against your face. Thumbs burning against your cheek bones. Lips messy and hungry with your own. Sharing saliva between open mouth kisses.

“Haven’t been able to stop thinking about you,” John admitted.

“Me neither,” you breathed. Fingers threading through the sweaty locks upon his head. Tongues fighting for dominance. Exploring the other’s mouth.

One of his hands hooked under your leg, arching it around his waist. Grinding his erection against your clothed slit. Eliciting a loud moan from you, brows furrowing at the sensation. It made him quicken his pace, want bringing something primal out of him.

Your hands explored down his torso. Outlining the details of his muscles as you trekked down to his groin. Finger tips meeting his bulge causing him to buckle his hips. Grunting in discomfort.

“It’s not right,” he said with a tight jaw, “Need to be inside you.”

All the air left your lungs. Words like a song to your heart.

As much as it pained him, he rose to his feet. Your arms chasing after him immediately. Needing the weight of him against you. Your saving grace for the pain you were feeling. John extended a hand to you, pulling you up like it was nothing. Your torsos pressed perfectly together. Hearts beating in sync.

“Come on,” his voice was gravely. Forceful grip tugged you along behind him. Attempting to be as quiet as possible through the halls of the tower. Knowing the rest of your team was only a thin wall away. Making sure your footsteps were as light as possible, impressed with John’s sudden ability to be sneaky. Guess it was possible when he really wanted to.

John pressed the code into the keypad by his door. Looking back at you for a moment with a smile. Dark pupils enveloping the deep blue of his irises. Somehow, even now that his body begged for yours with his, he felt giddy. Excited like a teenager preparing to lose his virginity on prom night.

The airlocks released on the door. Quickly, you both entered the room. Dark. No lights at all. Settling in as the door closed behind you, shielding away the only source of light you had before.

John’s hands were on your waist. Forehead pressed into yours. Heat of his breath fanned down your face. Blinking to hope your eyes adjusted. His head ducked to your throat. Kissing gently down your jugular. Quickly turning hungry. Teeth grazing your pulse. Biting down and sucking a mark into you. Surely to be purple shortly. You moaned, one hand cupping the back of his head.

His hand interlocked fingers with yours, guiding you over to his mattress. Laying you onto your back, knees meeting the curve with your legs dangling off the edge. He clapped his hands and a yellow hued lamp clicked on the other side of the room. Accenting him in its soft glow.

“I want to see you,” he breathed out, kneeling at the edge of the bed. Fingers hooking around your waistband and pulling it down your legs. Exposing your unclothed core, John’s brows bouncing in response. Smirking up at you as he discarded your loungewear. The air was cold against your soaked core. Your legs pushed together to find some relief.

Strong hands pryed you open, displaying your folds to him. Eyes glowing as they stared at your center. His tongue coming out to wet his lip at the sight. One of his fingers grazed through your folds. Your hips bucking in response to his touch.

“Jesus,” John cooed, “You’re soaked.”

A gargled ‘mmhmp’ escaped you. Your head pressing back into the mattress, mouth gaping towards the ceiling as you fought for patience. Not sure how much longer you could take it. This was torture.

John pressed forward, kissing your inner thigh. Tongue trailing up to your pussy. Swiping it up your aching folds. You called out to him, hands digging into the mattress below you. It felt so good. Skillfully, he lapped into you. Eyes rolling back into his head with each pass through. “You’re so fucking sweet,” his words vibrated through you. Cock needing relief. Beginning to grind himself against the mattress.

You needed more. The burn in you spreading throughout you again. Nerve endings tingling causing pain to resurface. It was not enough.

“John,” you cried out, “I need you. Need your cock inside me. Please—“

His eyes lit up. Having been fighting his selfish nature to fuck you relentlessly. Wanting to make this a good experience for you. But when you were begging him, how could he resist?

Rising to his feet as shedding every item of clothing that stuck to him. Throwing them into a pile with your own. Both of you completely nude now. His beard shining with your juices. You gawked at his member. It curved towards his stomach. Swollen and leaking at the tip. A thick vein running along the side. Clearly craving release. Your mouth watered.

He joined you on the mattress. Dipping under his weight. Fabric burning against his knees. His arms caged you in, hands splayed next to your head. Sweat covered both your bodies. Pulses straining against your eardrums. Never had either of you felt this desperate. And neither of you would ever admit that you were.

His cock prodded at your entrance. Tip sliding up and down your folds. Your face contorted in pleasure. Pathetically whimpering at the feeling. Lip quivering as you tried to force him inside you.

And he could not deny you.

With a quick thrust, he bottomed out inside you. Both of you gasping for air that refused to enter your lungs. Your arms snaked around his torso, splaying along his spine. One of his arms hooked around your waist, folding you so that he could enter you deeper. Finding a quick pace. Loud sound of skin slapping together filled the tight space. His balls slammed against your ass as his cock stretched you with each thrust.

Finally. Some relief. He was good. His cock was perfect. The noises he made were straight out of a porno. Suddenly, you could understand why they had wanted him to be Captain America. He was the perfect man.

His free hand found its place on your clit, circling the aching nub tightly. Your back arched off the mattress. It tingled at first, but your body was finally getting what it so desperately needed. You tucked your head into the crook of his neck, forehead pressed against his shoulder. Lips absentmindedly kissing and sucking his skin. Leaving little bruises in your wake.

His name fell from you like a prayer. Breathy huffs squeezed out of your chest. John grunted and groaned, completely lost in the way you wrapped around him. Tight walls gripped down on his girth.

John readjusted so that he could capture your lips between his. Messily kissing you, teeth grazing your bottom lip. His beard tickled your skin with each desperate kiss.

You were like two animals in heat. Unable to speak but knowing what the other needed. Dousing something primal within you. Something that you needed before the smoke filled your lungs today.

The knot in your gut wound itself tighter. If things continued, you would be cumming soon. Walls spasming as your body prepared for your orgasm.

“Pretty girl,” was the only thing he could choke out.

It made your face flush. He had not really complimented you, not past a sexual nature. But this was different. Not charged by the way you welcomed him inside you so easily. His words were genuine.

“Cum in me,” you whined, meeting his thrusts.

“Yeah? Want me to fill you up? Make sure you remember this for the next week. Maybe even knock you up. Let the whole team know who fucked you this good,” John groaned.

Your nails dug into his bare back. Scratching against the tight, muscular ridges. Nodding aggressively with a pathetic ‘uh-huh’ bubbling in your throat. His words had you on the brink. A few more swirls of his fingers and you would be a mess below him.

“Need you to first,” John breathed, “Cum on my cock, sweetheart. I wanna feel it.”

You called out to him as your insides began to pulse. The knot inside you snapping as your orgasm washed over you. Squeezing his cock between tight walls. Pushing him over the edge himself. Fucking into you as aggressively as possible making sure to get his seed deep inside you. Hips brushing against your own.

It was the sweetest relief you had ever felt. His spend cooling down all the agony that had consumed you. This was what you were meant to do. Meant to help each other. To be together.

John remained deep inside you, his body slumping against yours. Both of you panting, your hand caressing his back. Eyes closed. Neither of you prepared to say a word. Too afraid of breaking this small reality you had created together.

His weight was a nice blanket. Even if he did make it a little difficult to breathe. The feeling of skin perfectly pressed together helped. Your legs still wrapped around his waist. His beard scratched your chest momentarily.

You refused to move.

Remaining here in silence.

Spark of a flame began igniting inside you once more. You were in for a long night.

~~~

[END]

// Thank you for reading! I really enjoy writing sex pollen stories :) as always my inbox is open. Comments and Reblogs are appreciated //

{tags}

@lillycore ~ @deliciouslydisturbed365 ~ @ilove-hatethecw ~ @itsjml ~ @gayhorrormen ~ @linkpk88 ~ @1-800-styles ~ @sagexsenorita ~ @hepburnswan ~

[couldeatthatgirlforlunch]

The Lost Condom

Synopsis: You were in the middle of a spicy time with your boyfriend, when something odd happened: the condom disappeared. Inside. Of. You.

The solution? Go to the hospital.

The problem? Your family didn't know about your relationship.

Pairing: Jon Kent X Gn!AFAB!Reader; Platonic!Batfam

Tw: 18+; Only mention and slight description of genitals and sex, but nothing too explicit; All characters are aged up of course; English isn't my 1st language.

Word count: 1,8k.

Requested? Nah.

Extra notes: This isn't an original idea of mine, it's based on a real life story someone told me. Also the family finding out scene was inspired by this fanfic from @dccomicsimagines and this scene from Megamind. Also, eventually I will work on the asks waiting for me I swear 😭

General masterlist

So… You were in the middle of… Having fun… With your boyfriend… When suddenly, he said something that really confused you.

— Hmm… Babe… Where’s the condom? — Your head snapped back to look at him, since you were on all fours.

— Where's the ‘what’? — Your eyes were wide, unconsciously. Jon was blushing intensely, looking from your eyes to your entrance. He didn't know how to explain.

— I-I-I put it inside with the condom on, but now it's… Gone! — You narrowed your eyes. You watched him wrap and then enter you, you didn't feel him pull out at any moment, and even if he did, why would he tell you that he pulled out, took the condom off and then put it inside again secretly while you were still going at it?

You were both silent for a few seconds.

— Search for it! — You practically yelled at him, making him scramble to get off of you. You laid with your back down and legs open, looking at the ceiling, trying to calm down and not feel embarrassed. You felt him entering you with his fingers and searching around for minutes, grumbling and getting frustrated. The sensation was good… But you had bigger priorities at hand!

You huffed and changed positions a few times. A pillow underneath your butt, legs up, on all fours. Nothing worked. You even searched around the room and the bed, just to be sure. At some point, you both defeatedly decided it was best you go to the hospital.

The thing is, your relationship was still new, and no one in your family was aware. Lois and Clark already knew and approved, and you thought Cass suspected you were seeing someone, but you hadn't told them yet.

Especially Damian.

You and Jon knew each other years before Damian was even part of the family, since Bruce raised you since your birth — you were the product of one of his affairs, your biological mother didn't want to raise you, but she also didn't want to abort, so she and Bruce agreed that he would have you as soon as you were born — and he's best friend was Clark. Although, you didn't see each other much back then. It was after the Supersons became a team and besties that he started frequenting the manor more. You always had a childhood crush on each other — Jon thought you were beautiful and nice, and you thought he was cute and sweet, very different from the gross and rude boys from your school. —. Until you were each other's first kiss, then years later, first relationship, and first time. Of course, all in secret from Damian. The older family members only knew about your crush because of your physical language, but since you grew older and learned to hide, they assumed it was just a childish crush from the past.

Lois and Clark knew and approved, but they also always reminded you that you needed to tell Bruce soon, or at least Alfred, especially after you started being sexually active.

Unfortunately, the day came. Yes, you and Jon were old enough to have sex, but too young to be mature and brave enough to go to the hospital by yourselves. Lois was in another country for work, Clark was in the Watchtower in a League meeting, your dad was there too. Leaving the 2nd best option: Alfred — the best would be Lois, then Alfred, Clark, Cass, and then you would have to discuss which one of your other family members would it be.

Since you were in Metropolis — again, no one knew. More privacy wink wink —, Jon flew you back to Gotham, and you both almost cheered when you realized you were completely home alone, except for Alfred, of course.

Poor Alfred knew something was up when you suddenly were back from your “shopping trip”, with messy hair and clothes, red face and Superboy looking almost sick. He released a long sigh.

— Mx/Miss/Master (Y/N). Young Mr. Kent… — You cleared your throat.

— Alfred… We need help…

After you explained everything, Alfred looked ten years older. He didn't comment on anything, but his face showed how unimpressed he was. He just gestured for you to follow him to the garage, took the keys and started driving.

— Let me warn Master Bruce while we are-

— NO! — You yelled, started. He looked at you through the rearview mirror disapprovingly.

— Should I remind you that he will see the hospital bill and go after the truth? — You bit your lip.

— No, I know that. Just… Can't we pay on cash? — You smiled at him hopefully and nervously, but it was more like a grimace. Alfred was silent. You groaned. — I will tell him okay! Tonight! — Jon’s eyes snapped to yours, wide. — Relax! You're not gonna die!

— Yeah, until Damian whips out a kryptonite sword… — He groaned, hiding his burning face in your neck. You huffed, now wasn't time for him to be adorable.

— He doesn't have a kryptonite sword. Dad didn't let him do it. He would have to build it first. That would give him enough time to calm down. — Jon looked at you, indignant. Alfred cleared his throat.

— While we're there, I can't make any promises that if your father asks, I will hide the truth. He will know. — You and your boyfriend groaned, rubbing your faces with your hands.

— Yes, Alfred, I know…

Two hours later, you were finally laid down in position for the doctor to begin the procedure. Since if wasn't anything serious, you were on the emergency and there was only a curtain separating you from the rest of the patients outside. Alfred was sitting just outside, waiting, while Jon was standing by your side, holding your hand, as if you were about to give birth. The doctor was amused by your story, and her jokes helped you calm down.

She searched around you for a few minutes, the instrument she was using inside you being a little uncomfortable. Jon was silently horrified when he saw, you were startled too, but maintained the composure.

— AHA! Found it! It was really deep inside, almost on your cervix! — When she pulled out the condom, you both let out a breath of relief you didn't know you were holding.

You quickly put your clothes on again, you and Jon chatting as everything seemed lighter, and then left.

What you didn't know was that when Bruce got home and you and Alfred weren't there, it made him call, finding out just that you were in the hospital. Alfred refused to say much more than reassure him that it wasn't urgent and that he would soon know, thus he didn't have to crazily drive all the way there. That didn't stop him from alerting all your siblings.

When you got home, your whole family was there.

— Jon?! What're you doing here? — Alfred kept a straight face. Wow, he really wasn't going to help.

— Hmmm... — Jon subtly and subconsciously hid behind you. You shifted from one foot to another. Damian got up with a threatening scowl. You just came from the hospital. With a kryptonian.

— Kent! If you hurt my sibling I will-

— I didn't! — Jon almost yelled, then covered his face with his hands.

— Then, what is happenning here? — Bruce got up with a raised brow, analyzing the situation.

You thought for a moment. You either told them now and made things easier, or you spent all the way to dinner with them bothering you to tell. You could take it, Jon couldn't.

You took a deep breath.

— JonandIwerehavingsexwhenthecondomdisappearedinsideofmewecouldn'tfinditanywheresoweaskedAlfredforhelpandwenttothehospital.

They blinked.

— … What?

You huffed.

— Jon and I were having sex, when the condom disappeared inside of me. We couldn't find it anywhere, so we asked Alfred for help and went to the hospital. — You said, slower this time, although uma lower, more abashed tone.

Silence.

— … But… It was stuck inside? Weren't you wet, though…? — Tim's analysis broke the silence.

— SEX?! — Dick and Jason exclaimed.

— YOU WERE HAVING SEX WITH MY SIBLING?!

— Knew it. — Cass smiled and nodded, proud of herself.

Bruce heaved a sigh and sat down again.

— I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU DID THIS! — Damian threw Tim's coffee mug in your direction and Jon zoomed in front of you. The mug broke. Jon had a sheepish expression.

— Tim, go grab kryptonite. — Jason ordered and got up, walking toward the hidden compartment in the shelf where he kept his guns. Dick held him back while Damian threw a flower vase at Jon.

— No! Don't do that, Tim. — Dick ordered back. Tim shook his head.

— I wasn't going to anyway… — He mumbled. Damian threw the center table.

— YOU ACTED BEHIND MY BACK! YOU TRAITOR! YOU- OUCH! PENNYWORTH STOP! — Alfred tutted, pinching his ear.

— I'm sure civilized conversations don't involve breaking the forniture. — Alfred shot a pointed look at Bruce. — Master Bruce! Say something! — Your dad just kept gazing at you and your boyfriend.

Cass sighed, stepping toward Bruce and sitting beside him.

— (Y/N)’s happy. He’s good. They're careful. — Bruce nodded, finally showing some reaction and looking pleased. Jason stopped struggling against Dick and looked at you.

— I don't care. I'm going to kill him. — Damian growled, starting to pace around the room in anger. Jon silently sighed in relief that Damian kept his distance by being on the other side of the room, the couch and the whole family serving as a barrier. You stepped forward.

— It's not casual. We've been together for almost two months now. — Everyone but Alfred and Cass gasped. Damian burned holes in Jon’s head with his eyes and your dad looked at you, masking his mix of emotions.

Cass tsk.

— So clueless. Many signs. — She shook her head.

— (Y/N), why didn't you tell us before? — Dick asked carefully, walking in your direction and stopping in front of you. Jon fiddled behind you. You shrugged.

— Didn't want to deal with you all while we were just starting things. Especially if it didn't work out.

— When were you planning to tell us? — You pouted.

— I don't know… In a month or two? You guys probably would find out by yourselves. — You shrugged.

— You've been sneaking out a lot… — Tim spoke up for the second time, catching everyone’s attention. He was fiddling with his laptop, likely doing his own investigation. The ones closest to Tim looked from the monitor to you again.

— When did you go to Metropolis?! — Jason exclaimed, indignantly.

— Hehe…

Damian growled.

— So that's why you've been ditching me?! — Damian pointed a finger at Jon, who scratched the back of his head.

— Surprise...? — Jon weakly sang the word.

Bruce cleared his throat.

— So that's why Clark’s been acting like he was happy he knew something I didn't… — He got up and pointed at you. — No more sneaking out. Ask permission before going anywhere. — You opened your mouth to protest, but he stopped you. — Either that or you're grounded. — You pursed your lips and nodded in defeat. — Now we will talk about birth control…

Comment, like and reblog 🥰

DC Taglist:

@wandalfnation @vadersassistant @h0rr0r-10ver-69 @hxsun4 @silverklaus @toast-on-dandelioms @bluewillbon

[mountquokka]

Hiii!! I really love ur fanfic xx could u please write one where u and han are dating for a really long time but skz doesn't know and one day they catch u both in a room at jype ❤️❤️

Jagi... I need you

Han Jisung X fem!reader

Word count: 976

Warnings: Dom Jisung, sub reader, getting caught, messing around in the studio, semi-public, oral (m receiving), Jisung is whiny when he’s horny, nicknames (jagi, mamas, baby, Ji), dirty talk, let me know if I missed any

Taglist <3: @hongjoongtime117 @lee-sang1625 @wontini

Thank you so much for the request 🫶🏽☺️ I really appreciate it

“WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK?!”Chan yells from the door of the studio after witnessing you and Jisung’s compromising position.

You and Jisung have been dating since SKZ debuted in 2018. But no one knew. The problem was… you were a JYPE employee. That kind of relationship was against the rules so you both agreed to keep it secret. You both would act civil in passing in the hallways but once there was a moment you both could be alone, you would steal kisses and hugs. Which eventually turned to heavy make outs, touches and sometimes quickies when you got to that stage of your relationship. No one had any idea you both were together, though some were suspicious.

Today wasn’t any different, or at least you though it wasn’t. You’re walking around the JYP building, doing your job, until you got a message on your phone. You look down at it, casually glancing up so you don’t run into anyone and see it’s from Jisung. You smile a little at the notification until you open the message that was sent.

My squirrel 🐿️🥰: Jagiiiiii My squirrel 🐿️🥰: Are you busy? I NEED you 🥺

You instantly knew what he meant when he put need in all caps. He was horny. You both agreed to try and keep the sexual acts to a minimum when at work to lower the chance of getting caught.

You: Ji… you know we can’t My squirrel 🐿️🥰: Please mamas 🥺 I’ll be quick. Plus I’m in the studio, no one will catch us

You stop and think. The studios are always rented out so no usually walks in unless they need to find someone. From what you remember the guys don’t have anything scheduled for today so you might be in the clear. You send a reply back to Jisung

You: ok fine but give me 10 minutes it’s almost my lunch break My squirrel 🐿️🥰: Thank you baby I love you so much 😘😘 You: I love you too Ji ❤️

When it was time for lunch, you head to Jisung’s studio and knock on the door. He opens it and pulls you in. He connects your lips to his in a heavy make out session as he blindly closes the door and heads back to the chair. “I missed you so much” Jisung sighs as he starts kissing down your neck. You giggle “You saw me 2 hours ago” “That’s too long, I want you with me all the time” he grabs your waist and grinds you against him. You hum as you feel his bulge gliding against your clothed core.

“Mmm Ji baby, slow down a second.” Jisung whines and pull aways from your neck. “I don’t know if we’ll have time for that today, how about I just suck you off?” Jisung wanted to protest but he knew that your lunch breaks weren’t long enough for a full sex session. He groans but agrees.

You get off his lap and drop to your knees in front of him. He pulls his sweats and boxers down, his member slapping against his lower stomach. It’s surprisingly already leaking precum. “What got you so worked up?” You chuckled as you start smearing the precum along his shaft.

“I started thinking about you” you blush at his answer but feel a sense of pride that you were the cause. You bend over to kitten lick his tip “you simp” “only for you mamas”

Before he could notice the blush spreading across your face, you take him into your mouth and he lets out a surprised groan. You slowly take him in inch by inch until your nose hits his pelvis. Once your gags and chokes were under control, you start bobbing your head, slow at first then gradually picking up speed. “Fuck baby~ I was hoping to have that pretty little pussy gripping my dick but of course your mouth feels just as good, keep going”

You knew he wasn’t going to last long much longer just from how he kept twitching in your mouth. You were gonna finish him off when the door suddenly flies open.

“WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK?!”

You and Jisung pause as you see Chan and the rest of SKZ standing in the doorway. All of them in pure shock and confusion. Hyunjin trying to cover poor Jeongin’s eyes. You both situate yourself before the hellfire of questions you’re about to receive from a not so happy Bang Chan.

“How long has this been going on for?”

“Since we debuted”

“And you don’t think to tell any of us?”

“We weren’t sure yet since idol/employee relationships are frowned upon”

“Were you ever going to tell us?”

“Eventually yes”

After the barrage of questions, Chan had calmed down and everyone had a clear understanding of what was going on. All of them promising not to say anything and keep your relationship secret. Also for them to get a heads up next time you both try to do something like that again in the studio or any place like that. You agreed.

You all were having a casual conversation, when you look down at your watch “Oh shit! I have to get back to work. I see you later Ji. See you guys” The guys all wave bye but Jisung stops you at the door. “One last kiss? Plus I still didn’t get to cum” he whispers. You chuckled and give him a quick peck on the lips “Don’t worry baby, I’ll make it up to you later. I promise” you smirked and winked as you walk off. Jisung tries to hide his flustered face as he closes the studio door and joins the guys in their conversation. But he wasn’t listening, all he was thinking about was

“Dammit now I’m horny again”

[81pastrys]

Hey it's me again (smut requester) and for the emoji can I use 🏎️ this one pls? Anyway I've got another request where reader is feeling needy but Landos away at like a triple header so to explore she looks up some fanfics and eventually falls into like a routine of reading them and once Lando is back he catches her one night and it's rlly kinky or smth (maybe a sir kink if ur up for it 👀) and he like teases her about it and recreates it and stuff ( I need holy water I've got so many more scenarios help😭😭)

-🏎️

Fanfic Fun

Summary— Lando catches his girlfriend reading fanfiction and decides they should act it out

Warnings— SMUT ; fanfic recreation ; body worship ; edging ; teasing ; overstimulation? ; aftercare ; sir kink

A/N— 🏎️ I love ur request sm !!

Lando One Shots

Dividers @bernardsbendystraws @dollywons

Lando went away for a triple header, leaving her home alone for the 3 weeks. She had work to do and so did he, meaning they have to do a bit of long distance. It was harder at first, but now they got the hang of call scheduling and such.

Nearly a week in she was basically sexting him. He would laugh mid conversation with someone or mid meeting and blow it off when someone asked about it. She giggled after texting him, knowing she had that effect on him.

When the nights got longer and the days stretched too slow, she went to her phone for relief of her sexual desires. Lando’s fans were quite good at writing out scenarios. Of course she would use an alias, not wanting fans to flip out.

She would like and like so many, only few actually intriguing her to touch herself. There were a few she’d come back to, not many. It became an unhealthy habit. Lando wasn’t able to call, let me find the fanfic for it. Lando wasn’t responding, there’s a fanfic written on it.

She got so caught up in doing it, she didn’t break the habit when he came home two weeks after she started. She had her phone opened on quite an insane fanfic, she kept returning, the wording perfect and the description was top tier.

“Hey my love.” Lando greeted, walking in their shared room. She briefly put the phone down, but didn’t lock it. “What are you reading?” He questioned. She wasn’t much of a reader.

“Nothing, some stupid twitter article.” She lied. She locked her phone and Lando caught on. He gave her a confused look and she laughed. “What?” She asked him.

“Some stupid Twitter article?” He asked slowly to make sure she caught how dumb it sounded. “Baby you don’t read normal tweets let alone articles.” He said. He grabbed her phone, her reaching for it before it unlocked to his face.

“Lando don’t-“ She started but he was already reading the post. He read it out to her and she blushed. She snatched her phone before he got to the good part.

“You’ve been reading fan fiction of me?” He asked. “Do I not satisfy you enough?” He was slightly joking. She was still red in the face.

“Maybe, but you were gone three weeks lan!” She argued. He brought up a point that he was very much there now. He grabbed her phone again and read the fiction more. She knew what part he was at by his facial expression.

“Sir?!” He asked. She reached but he pulled the phone away. “Please sir, she begged while he continued to edge her?!” He read off. “Lay back, we’re doing this.” He was dead serious but she thought he was joking so she laughed.

“You’re serious?” She asked. He handed her the phone and nodded his head. “Lando! No.” She said. He shrugged and began to walk away. “Fuck fine, I really need you.” She whined.

“I want you to scroll where it starts and read it off for me.” He said, taking off her sleep shorts. She obliged and scrolled to the meat of the fic.

He slipped two fingers in her slick cunt, slowly curling them. She squirmed while he teased her insides with a devilish smirk on his face.

He followed every word. She read it off like she wrote it. “Baby, how many times have you read this?” He asked, she basically reading it from memory as he followed.

“Too many times for you not to listen- fuck!” She moaned out.

He got her dangerously close to her orgasm but pulled away, bringing his fingers to her mouth for a taste. She moaned around his fingers. He kissed her body like she was an angel, worshipping her.

He returned his teasing fingers to her slick and gathered it before sucking his own fingers. He moaned around them, before bringing them down to tease her clit. He added them back inside her tight cunt, making her squirm and whine.

“Please sir!” She begged while he continued to edge her. “I promise I won’t be a brat again.” She moaned out to him as his fingers work torturously slow inside her again.

“That’s a blank promise love, say it like you actually mean it.” He taunted. She whined and squirmed as his fingers brought her close again.

Lando listened and followed her words, edging her to another climax. She hated how into this she was, not only reading her favorite writing of him, but experiencing it was the cherry on top. “Lan, please!” She whined to him, her phone falling to the bed.

Lando took her phone and left off where she was, not able to read it as smoothly as she did. He stuttered on words as his fingers worked her to another climax she wouldn’t get. She read the fic too many times to know that.

“Two more times my love.” Lando promised. “Remember the 8 strikes? Half is edging and half is orgasms.”

Lando huffed a breath of surprise at the line. He liked this alter ego that was written. He set the phone down, taking matters into his own hands -literally - and edging her two more times before skipping in the fic to after that.

Lando took his dick out and slapped it against her clit making her jump. He lined himself up and only pushed in about an inch. She felt so tight around the inch, he couldn’t hold back. He thrusted quickly, causing a painful moan to escape her lips.

“Only 4 today love, that’s all.” He reminded her, as if she didn’t know. He slowly grinded his hips into hers. She came rather quickly from being edged and he chuckled at how easy it was to get her over the edge she sought after.

The next orgasm took them both by surprise, she arched her back and he pushed her back down. His hand wrapped around her throat as she struggled and begged. “Please sir- Lando!” She screamed out.

She said the line in sync with Lando, the fiction becoming real and she climaxed. Lando liked the control he had, not like any other time. He threw her phone on the night stand and disregarded the rest of the fic, he knew she had two more orgasms.

“Two more love, that’s not hard huh?” He teased. She pushed at his hips and he slowed down, grinding into her slowly, teasingly, annoyingly.

“You missed the best part.” She panted, reaching for her phone and finding the part she so badly wanted him to recreate. “Please sir, please cum in me.” She recited and Lando groaned at just the thought.

He flipped them, seeing as his legs were tiring out. Her legs were shaking while straddling him, but nonetheless she bounced herself up and down, feeling an orgasm.

“Please lan- sir- fuck.” She moaned. He twitched at the new name, unprovoked by reading. He met her movements and she came again, crumbling on top of him. Her legs were shaking so much. “Fuck!!” She whined.

“Such a good girl for me, one more and I’ll fill you up yeah?” He whispered in her ear, seeing as she collapsed the last orgasm. She whined and nodded on his chest as his movements never wavered.

She came for the last time and Lando fulfilled his promise, spilling his hot cum inside her. They stayed where they were for a while. She laid on his chest, calming down and relaxing. She briefly forgot he was inside her and clenched, moaning at the feeling of still being filled.

“Fuck don’t do that.” Lando strained. His hands rubbed up and down her sides. Her soft skin grounding him back to the reality of having to clean up. “Did you enjoy that?” He teased.

“Too much for my own good.” She said.

The next day she returned to the post and commented ‘it’s even better when he acts it out for you’ media going nuts believing it’s her, but the name was inconspicuous.

You think this has happened before?! I think so.

@il0vereadingstuff @angelluv16 @pandabiiissh @kallanfiona @itznotsophia

[nagaytoe]

THE KID AT THE BACK

-theories

(- Posted before the new version of day 1 and day 2 -)

Did i sit down and analyze this game for 3 hours straight because I'm hyperfixated on it? Yes, yes i did.

This isnt proof-read and long as hell so buckle up for a joyride, y'all (by the way, there's another TKATB fanfic in the works as we speak and also some fanart, though I'm not sure wether to post it or not... well, we'll see!)

Some of these might not seem all too thought through (??) Since i was kind of grasping at straws here (and it was like 2 a.m. lmao), so if y'all have questions/need me to elaborate or have theories of your own feel free to share!

(There's some inspiration here from other people in the Fandom, most of them from the community section on itch.io which isnt available any more)

Sol knows the player longer than we think

My theory ->

-Fantasia stated that one of her 3 biggest inspirations was the game AMNESIA

-In amnesia the mc loses her memory in an accident. One of the love interests is her childhood friend and also the only yandere in the game (at least from what i could find out)

-She already drew Sol with Forget-me-nots and in the valentines day special the boquet sol gave us also contained Forget-me-nots

-In the book (this gallery thing with all the cutscene images) on the top of sols page is written 'Remember Me' which implies we forgot about him

-Annabel Lee Poem:

+The poem contains the line 'I was a child, she was a child' which furthermore implies that Sol and MC knew each other as kids

+Except for the last two paragraphs the poem is written in past tense, which could be talking about sols POV with us

Perhaps MC had an accident, as mentioned above, and MCs father (highborn kinsmen) tore MC away from Sol to the countryside

+The poem mentions angels killing annabel lee which could also mean something like this: MC doesnt die but, however, gets amnesia. That way, the MC sol knows and loves is dead because MC no longer exists the way MC did before (also the fact that she forgot him)

Some people theorize MCs farm is near the sea and that is the reason why sol hates the sea (i believe the city is near the sea and that's where MC 'died' (maybe MC almost drowned and got Amnesia that way?(apparently its possible for people who almost drowned to get amnesia)))

+"The speaker loves annabel lee to the point of death and even after death" (MCs view how to interpret the poem) (-> Sol loves MC to 'death' (the day they got amnesia) and even after 'death' (after MC got amnesia and 'died' in a sense, as a person))

-sol says he thinks death is beautiful, i didn't really know what to make of that, the only conclusion i came to would be: If MC actually did drown and lose their memories due to that, sol might have been involved in MC drowning (or at least blames himself for that) but viewed MC losing their memories as a 'second chance' with them, since they can start from anew (perhaps he made some mistakes with MC in the past which all eventually built up to MC drowning (it could be that we were already teens at that point)

-sol states afterwards: "But people refused them to let them be together, as if fate refuses them to die together" which supports my theory that MC was taken from Sol by someone (most likely the father after he witnessed Sols behaviour and his final straw was MC drowning because of him) the 'let them die together' could mean something like their relationship 'dying' and then starting over again or perhaps he tried to die with them, who knows (all this is really far fetched i am grasping at straws here lmao)

-in a really quick scene right after he mutters "I'm won't let it happen to me... not again" (some people view this as Sol already lost someone he loved dearly but it could also be the MC who was taken from him

ANOTHER THING I COULD IMAGINE -ABOUT DYING TOGETHER COULD BE:

MC almost died, Sol went after them but they were already saved, Sol just didnt witness that and almost died himself/wanted to die but was saved from that by someone (maybe hyugo? Though, he is an exchange student)

-Another theory on hyugo. It's canon that he is an exchange student, however i do believe he is from this city (since he knows about the hierarchy and his brother Geo apparently is no exchange student), moved away and is now back for business (relating to his 'mafia schemes' but under the disguise of being an exchange student)

Maybe he moved around the same time MC left or some time after that

-Hyugo mentions on the rooftop that we remind him of someone and the pronoun of the person he refers to changes based on the one the player picked for the MC in the beginning. It could mean we remind him of someone else entirely, someone maybe not even related to sol (though i doubt that) or to the MC and he knows them from back then but maybe thought MC died as well and cant believe they actually survived (maybe he want to spike MCs memory by doing that)

-A dream within a dream: MC mentions that this poem, at least to them, talks about the uncertainty about something, like life (which could also imply that they might be uncertain about some things in their mife because they simply forgot them due to amnesia)

-THE SECOND DAY 'THE KINGDOM'

+some people think the kingdom (by the sea) refers to MCs farm and implies its near the sea, however in day 2 we find out about the hierarchy in the city and considering my theory that MC actually is from the city and almost drowned there, i believe the kingdom by the sea is the city. MC does mention in the beginning that they lived on the farm ever since they were a child, however, it could very well be that we moved there right after the incident that caused MCs amnesia (if MC was akid when it happened it would really matter because then it would still fit with the fact that they lived there since theyre a child, however if they were already a teen, perhaps the father moved there immediately to cut off all ties to Sol and told us we have always lived there on top of that (considering the previous theories)

The father also didnt seem fond of the idea that we go to the city (the fact that he is is indebted to someone from high class could imply he might be from there), that could be because he knows how dangerous the city is (and how we could potentially meet sol again)

-maybe the reason for the debt is that MCs father suddenly bought the farm land to get us away from the city as soon as possible and had to take on a loan from one of his contacts in the city

-we know that this is MCs last year at the university, if we say shes minimum 22, and was already in the school for 4 years that would mean she got there at 18. If the 'drowning theory' events took place when MC was a teen (like 16 maybe) it would explain why the father was indebted (i also think 2 years is an believable timeframe a higher class person would give someone to pay off their debt)

-at the end of day 2 sol says he's sorry for leaving us and "i dont know what I'll do if..." which supports my theory that he lost us once (and he blames himself as the reason (again, MC drowning?))

-inspirations:

+ https://www.tumblr.com/sweet-herbal-peach-tea/746168072919023616/tkatb-theories?source=share

+ https://itch.io/t/3749638/whats-the-secret-between-hyugo-and-sol

Another theory:

Sleepy Hollow and The kid at the back

-In the nicknames the boys have for MC (fantasia released that on twitter and tumblr) sol calls MC pumpkin (like the pumpkin of the headless horseman (also in the gallery there is a pumpkin above the book)) and Crowe calls them '(star-crossed) lover'

Star-crossed lovers are people who love each other but can't be together

I believe this might imply that, even though Crowe is the second romance option, MC can't be with him no matter what they do

I also found out that the nickname is a phrase from romeo and juliet (which furthermore implies crowe will die)

We know what romeo and juliet is about: romeo and juliet cant be together because their families are enemies (some people believe Crowes father might be them man MCs father owes money to(i personally doubt thah though but it would support this romeo and juliet situation)) and at the end romeo thinks that juliet died, kills himself and then juliet turns out to not be dead but kills herself after seeing romeo dead

-Jericho Ichabod is a character from Sleepy Hollow, along Katrina (the FMC who owns a farm (what a coincidence)) and Brom Bones (its implied he is the headless horseman). In the story, jericho courts Katrina at a party, she rejects him and on his way home the headless horseman kills him (in the scene where Sol accompanies MC to class he says 'it's always been you ichabod' which could furthermore imply that crowe or his family have something do to with the fact that Sol and MC arent together)

In the library scene with Crowe he asks MC about their opinion on marie Antoinette and when MC says something negative about her, his reaction seems kind of strange. MC also brought a book about torture devices and execution methods and in that book is a picture of 'The Executioner' and he has scars on his arms, wears a mask and a chained collar. This correlates with some of sols features. He has scars on his arms (as seen in one of fantasias drawings), wears a chocker (he also wears a mask when he breaks into MCs room but that's really something anyone who does that would do). This implies even more that he will kill crowe.

[lostinlovingrevery]

"You know how animals have displays to attract mates? Logan is no different. When hes in the mood, hell puff himself out to you, do things he thinks youll like. I mean, i suppose avg males do this too but logan gets repetitive over it until you notice. "

This is too cute 🥹 Could I maybe request a drabble based off this? (Sorry if you already got a message similar to this, my wifi is being weird and I can't tell if it actually sent lol)

A/N: Thank you for this ask!! Aren't drabbles supposed to be 100 words? IDK, but this is more of cute fanfic with 1400+ word count! I hope this is what you wanted!

I imagined a F!Reader but I didn't use any pronouns or describe readers body so it could be GN!

I pictured trilogy! Logan too bc I felt like he was the one most likely to act like this honestly LOL. I tried to use the 4 things you'd see when it comes to mating displays - Looks, Strength, Food, and Gifts. (I just kept picturing him like those birds from birds of paradise video)

Courtship Rituals

Warnings: Just Logan being needy ;), Suggestive ending ;) ;)

It’s been an extremely busy day. 

Aside from the meetings, the classes, chores, and various other activities that had taken up the schedule, it left little time for you to be with Logan. 

Which he was totally fine with by the way. He knew you were busy. 

Still, he’d stop by your study. “You done yet bub?” he’d ask, as he put his palms on your desk, seemingly puffing out his chest, the muscles of his arms bulging out as if he were flexing them. It was hard for you to not get distracted by him, especially since he was wearing a white t-shirt that fit very tightly around his torso; You swore you could make out his pecs through them. He actually looked really good since you’ve seen him early this morning- still asleep in bed. His hair looked especially good today, and he trimmed his beard to look a little neater. Not to mention he had on those jeans that fit his ass snuggly - the ones that you can never stop staring at. 

God he’s so hot

You couldn’t allow yourself to be distracted though- Charles absolutely needed you to finish some research by tonight, so you couldn’t stop. 

“Sorry baby,” You said sympathetically, “It’s gonna be a bit. I’m busy today y’know?” 

You felt so guilty the way he visibly deflated, you reached out to grab his hand. “Later, ok?” You kissed the space between his knuckles, and he forced a smile, before leaving you alone to do your work. 

Later you were in your classroom, getting things set up and preparing for your next class as you write your lesson plan on the chalkboard, you happened to turn your head to the window- where Logan was conveniently outside your classroom window in the yard, working out with nothing but his sweatpants on and his shirt off. You could see the sweat glistening off his skin, once again- you felt an incredible urge to go be with him, but you couldn’t- since your next class is in 20 minutes. 

You went to the window and watched him, where he spotted you eventually after he finished doing a set of pushups- you lost count at 50. He greeted you with a small wave of his hand, a smirk plastered on his face. You gave him a polite wave back, and blew a kiss to him. He waved for you to come out, but you shook your head- tapping your wrists and pointing to the classroom with your thumb. He shrugged, and nodded understandingly- but deflated once again. 

During lunch, you stopped into the kitchen to grab something to eat, finding Logan in there already. He looked up at the sound of you entering, and smiled. 

“Was just about to get you. Made you lunch.” He says, turning around and presenting the plate- one of your favorite lunches. Grilled cheese (Extra cheesy of course with 3 different types of cheeses) Homemade fries with sea salt, and a small cup of tomato soup. Your stomach growled loudly.

“Lo!” You smiled taking the plate, “That’s so sweet, thank you-” You reached down to take a bite of a fry, your eyes rolled back and groaned dramatically. “Oh that’s SO good.” You reached up to peck him on the lips, as he smiled proudly down at you. He figured, if his impressive muscles and body weren’t enough to sway you away from your work - then this would.

The way to anyone's heart - food. 

“You done for the day? Maybe we could spend some time-”

“Professor!” 

The sound of Rogues voice came into the room, distracting you and Logan. “Hi, sorry- you said you would help me out with my science project?” She asks you, you swallowed your fry and nodded. 

“I did, just give me a moment-” You inform her, turning back to Logan who’s deadpan expression made you want to laugh. “Sorry sweetheart, later?” You ask, pecking his lips again with a loud smooch.

“Yeah, sure.” He nods, his very best to not show his disappointment, watching you walk away with Rogue- and the plate of food in your hands. 

You were talking to Jean in the hall, complaining about all the work you had to do. Some of it your fault- stuff you had been procrastinating, but some of it just piled on suddenly. Not to mention it was your turn on the roster to cook everyone dinner, and you had tons of laundry to do- another thing you put off. 

Logan came around the corner, his arm sliding across your waist as he kissed your cheek. “Hey sweetheart.” He says lowly to you in that deep timber voice that drives you crazy- and he knows it too. He gave a courteous nod to Jean. 

“What you got there Logan?” Jean asks, noticing he was holding something behind his back. He pulled his arm from his back, revealing to you a bouquet of wildflowers. You gasped.

“Lo, these are beautiful!” You smiled taking them. Jean chuckled, 

“I’ll leave you lovebirds alone.” She teased, turning and walking away, leaving you and Logan alone. He braced an elbow against the wall looking down at you as you admired and sniffed the wildflowers. 

“Thought you’d like them.” He says. You beamed up at him, leaning up on your tiptoes to kiss his cheek. “I was thinking…” His other hand went to your hip, as he straightened his back out- practically towering over you. “If you got some free time now we should-”

“Hey! You busy?” Scott interrupted, pointing at you, then noticing the flowers, and Logans demeanor over you. Not to mention the absolute scowl Logan was giving him. “Uh, nevermind-”

You laughed, playfully hitting Logans arm. “What do you need Scott?” 

Logan let out an exasperated sigh. He loved you, but boy do you always jump at the chance to help someone out… Guess that’s why he loved you. You were always great at lending a hand. You, however, have been terrible at picking up signals. He dropped his arm from the wall, stepping back to give you space. Tuning Scotts annoying voice out and looking down at you with adoration. It wasn’t just the sex that he was wanting- he was just feeling needy for you today, but you were too busy and had a lot on your plate.

He took the bouquet from you, telling you he’ll put them in a vase while Scott stole you away from him. Rejected twice, and stolen away from him twice. It did not boost his ego. 

Finally, the evening came, and you were in bed, relaxing with a book. You had changed out of your clothes and into Logan's shirt, while Logan was in the shower, the steam and scent of soap wafting through the bathroom door of your shared bedroom. You heard the tap turn off, and you closed your book, setting it on your bedside table- next to the vase of flowers he got you- as you waited for him. 

He came out, towel wrapped low on his hips, droplets of water dripping down his hairy chest and torso, and he looked surprised to see you in bed. “Oh, hey.” He greets. “Didn’t know you when you’d be back.” He mutters under his breath.

“Came in just as you got in the shower.” You smiled, tilting your head and crossing your arms, noticing his slight attitude. He nodded, turning to pull out some clothes. “Logan.” You called out, and he turned his head. You brought your hand up and beckoned him with your finger. 

His grumpy face disappeared and he smiled, turning back to you and walking to the bed, dropping the towel to the floor as he kneeled onto the bed and climbed between your legs, his arms wrapping around your waist and upper back. 

You brought your hands up into his hair, intertwining your fingers through the wet locks and you giggled. “You were missing me today weren’t you?” You smiled. His expression went soft, the corners of his eyes crinkling as his lips upturned to a small smile. 

“Yeah. I was.” He says softly. 

“You were like a peacock. You were totally strutting your stuff around me.” You teased. He rolled his eyes. 

“Didn’t work clearly.” He mutters. 

“So you admit it!” You laughed. “Cause since when did you work out outside my classroom window?”

A deep blush came across his face as he became embarrassed, looking away, before looking up at you with big pleading eyes. You hummed, leaning forward and giving him a soft kiss that he quickly deepened, pressing himself deeper against your body.

Parting with a gasp, you ran your thumb across his cheek. “For the record, I missed you too.”

[eleanor-is-probably-my-real-name]

—The Running and the Hiding— (3,9k words)

_________________________________

Emperor Geta x fem!reader

Request: @coruja12345: I would love to read a time travel fanfic, in which the modern reader goes back in time, Geta is obsessed with her and she doesn’t like him because she thinks he’s arrogant.

Summary: On New Year’s Eve you make a small wish that maybe could be responsible for you falling quite literally into a different time. Drunk and clueless you find yourself at the feet of a Roman emperor, who may or may not wants to kill you. Now you have to try your best to not die—which gets awfully complicated with that emperor finding some interest in you…

Shorter summary: time travel is a bitch and Geta, too.

Trigger warnings: alcohol (alcoholism if you squint really hard)

A/N: i am horribly sorry for posting so rarely. also, i wrote the first bit somewhere in january and finished the other two thirds, or smth like that, just now at 1:30 am. i plan to do some more parts and if you’re lucky you’ll get it even before this year ends, ha! i hope you like this piece of something here, i’d love if you give some feedback! love you!

Part: 1/?

_________________________________

Be careful with what you wish for.

You have heard that phrase — of course you have — but no one ever pays attention to these kinds of wannabe wisdoms, as you believe. So why would you?

Oh, but how could you have known the silly little wish you’ve written on that damn piece of paper on New Year’s Eve would ever find a real meaning? That the wish for a “drastic change of that boring life” you’ve burned in a drunken haziness over that stupid lighter would come to hit you like a train?

Maybe you should have thought about that phrase, after all.

When the first of January sees the first light, your guests (three friends it were; you like it quieter) have already left, and you are still awake. Sitting on the kitchen floor with a half-empty bottle of tequila and smeared lipstick, you regret half of the evening. You don’t regret it for people you miss or people you desire, no, you never minded a more lonesome life. You’ve simply drunk too much of everything.

And so, still slumped on the floor with only one shoe on and hair in a total mess, your head starts to hurt, and you consider getting up and making yourself a nice hot tea.

Minutes pass. You don’t move.

Then you groan and take another sip from the tequila. What a great way to start the new year, you think. It is just the same way it started last year. And the year before. And the year before that.

You grab the bright red hair clip, of which you are not sure if it is even yours, lying on the kitchen floor and try to put your hair away into something. You only half succeed, the alcohol in your blood is not helping.

Eventually you decide that you need to do something—anything. Considering cleaning up your apartment and deciding against it very quickly, you get up, nearly fall, and search for your second boot. You feel dizzy, horribly dizzy.

When you finally find that shoe (it was behind your sofa), you believe that for this very moment there is no better thing to do than go out for a walk with a bottle of tequila.

And that’s what you do.

Or, at least, try to.

With a jacket, boots, and that glittery mini dress of yours, you stumble out of your small apartment, drinking from the bottle like an alcoholic (you are not an alcoholic, you tell yourself). You don’t know what makes you think you have a plan or even a destination to go to, but you don’t care.

You reach the stairs and, once again, are horribly aware of your dizziness. Things seem much farther away, and they turn and twist and spin. Awful feeling.

And then you trip. On the stairs.

And you fall, and you scream. But when your already miserable head hits something, no noise leaves your mouth anymore. Pain and dark is the feeling.

And you think you are dead.

You are, in fact, not.

When you slowly come back to your senses and feel a hard floor under your back, you don’t open your eyes right away. Legs and arms are twisted under and over your body in weird ways, and you fear that something is broken. You don’t dare moving yet.

The air is the next thing you grow to be aware of. It feels fresher and smells warmer — unlike your hallway. But maybe your senses are mocking you after that pathetically hard fall down the stairs in the drunken mess of yours.

Your eyes flutter open. First, you don’t recognize your surroundings because of your awfully blurred view. You blink a couple of times, trying to push the headache away and to see.

And when you finally do, you realize that you really don’t recognize your surroundings.

What?

You jolt upright from your lying position, sitting straight. Your look darts around, trying to understand the things you find in front of you. Instead of the narrow green hallway walls, you see wide and open marble columns. The walls are gigantic, adorned with colorful frescoes of ancient people. The floor is not dark and dirty, something you normally avoid touching with something that isn’t your shoes, no, now it is smooth and light and noble. Again, marble, you think.

And then you turn your head to the stairs you have fallen off and find no dirty old wooden staircase. It’s also marble. And it’s wide and high, and you feel incredibly small with all of this looming over you.

“What the hell…,” you mutter slowly.

Where are you? The room must be in a palace, you have never seen anything bigger. But you very certainly do not remember ever making your way towards such a building, no amount of alcohol would make you forget something like that. There is no palace in the small town where you live, anyway.

Then how did you get here? Are you dreaming? Are you in a coma? You count your fingers, watch your surroundings, and count your fingers again. Ten. Nothing has changed. And how detailed the frescoes are, how vivid the colors. You have never dreamed in such realistic ways.

You take a very deep breath. But it has to be a dream. There is no other reasonable explanation. You must have fallen way too hard, you decide.

A dream, just a dream.

You suddenly hear voices. And heavy steps, rattling with iron. People are coming, heading right for where you are crouching, probably very pathetically. And you hear their voices growing louder, deep and strange.

Deep, because there are men laughing. And strange, because the words leaving their mouths are very much not your language. Not at all! Oh, damn, your fall must have been really hard, your hallucinations are now speaking new languages.

The hall, in which you sit in your puddle of misery, is big, so the men‘s voices sound much louder when they enter that room. Your heart begins to race as you see the figures coming through the massive door, right in your direction. Shit, shit, shit! What do you do?

You try to stand, pressing your hand into something sharp. You curse, pain darting through your hand and blood running immediately from that ugly cut on your palm. That the tequila bottle has shattered into a hundred pieces you only realize now, and you would have taken the time to mourn the waste of the good tequila (it was never good, you just like getting drunk) (you definitely don’t have a problem) if it wasn’t for the men freezing a couple of meters away from you.

Oh, fuck.

You have to get up.

Your legs are shaking when you try to stand, needing to avoid using your poor cut hand for that. A headache stings through your forehead once you are out of your seated position, and your vision runs dark for a couple of seconds too long (you blame it on the fall). You nearly tumble to the ground again, you aren’t close to being sober.

“What are you doing there?” One of the men calls with an aggressive tone, that makes you flinch.

Strange, you think. The words are so horribly unfamiliar, and yet you understand. Your brain is a genius for coming up with a completely new language.

Still, you are confused.

You take some time until you answer; your head spins, your hand hurts, and you slowly start to feel warm liquid running down your fingers. You wipe it off on your jacket and remember afterward that it’s blood.

And the men come closer, and you think you can answer anything because it’s not real, it can’t be real! You could ask them where you are, and you could ask who they are. Also, you could try to explain that you would like to go home (or maybe a hospital, if you think better of it), but after blinking at them for too long, you say:

“What?”

Oh, they don’t like that answer. They understood, you realize, and after recalling the word you just said, you notice that you haven’t spoken your language.

“Are you not hearing right, girl?” They are closer now, and you back away a step.

“I have no idea,” you say, because you really are clueless.

“Oh, so you’ve forgotten the reason for your little visit to the palace, right?” the other man mocks.

That man is taller but slimmer than the other, but he is dressed the same as his companion. They are wearing armor and helmets, fully made out of metal, and on their belts are hanging dangerous-looking swords. Swords! You gulp and hope they are only decoration.

They are, actually, not decoration, because the first man suddenly pulls his sword out in a sharp motion and points it right at you, and you gulp, stumbling another couple of steps away.

“Wait, wait, wait!” You pull up your hands in a desperate attempt to appease the men. “The thing is, I have no fucking clue how I got here, okay? I fell down the stairs, being drunk like shit, and boom, I am here.”

You chuckle nervously.

There is a long pause. The men look at you and seem incredibly uncertain whether they should laugh at you and kill you or kill you right away. That’s what you read from their expressions.

“I know, I sound crazy.”

The taller man nods slightly. “Yes, you do.”

You inhale and exhale deeply, shivering, and let your gaze dart around to maybe find an answer in this hall, written on the columns or drawn on the floor. But that only makes you more miserable and hopeless. Everything feels a little bit too real, and you don’t like it. You really don’t like it. The throbbing pain in your head and the bleeding wound on your hand remind you that things seem to be pretty existent. You never cut your hand so painfully in a dream and you start questioning your mental stability.

“You have to believe me,” you then plead, “it’s the truth!”

“What are we supposed to believe?” The first man says again, “That you have fallen from the sky? Like a present from the gods? Ha!”

The muscles in your face tense as you feel yourself getting more and more desperately frantic.

“And what are you wearing there?” the other man remarks. “Are you a whore? A whore from the barbarians? I have never seen such clothes.”

“Ouch,” you are offended, “I like my dress, actually.”

The dangerous-looking men share an uncomprehending glance. Then the one who has his sword pointing at you turns again towards you, his expression becoming that aggressive sternness again.

“You know how you look, right?” He moves a step closer. “You, girl, look like a damn intruder. Like someone who breaks into the palace of the emperors and is, let me say, up to no good. What are your plans, huh? Espionage? Stealing? Murdering the emperors?”

A subtle fear starts to cramp around your gut. You realize that you not only have no idea how you got here but also have no protection. If all of this is real and these men are right when telling you that you are in a royal palace of two emperors, then you are screwed. Nothing else can explain what you are doing here in the middle of the night.

You absolutely look like an intruder with very bad intentions, and you have nothing to make you denying it believable. This is probably a good moment to start praying, because everything feels, again, too real and too hostile to rely any longer on your hallucination theory.

“I—I don’t—“ you start, but get cut off.

“Yes, of course, you are innocent, completely harmless. You can tell that to your cellmates in the dungeons.”

Oh, no. No, no, no. This is really bad.

“If I think about it,” you start, taking slow steps back, “I’d rather not visit the dungeons, you know?”

You turn around and run. Or you try at least, because you only come two steps forward before being dragged back by your jacket, your arms being forced onto your back, and every attempt to wriggle your arms free is futile and only answered with a harsh grip.

“Oh, yes, you think you are smart, don’t you?”

“No, not really—ouch!”

 Your arms are being twisted painfully.

“Oh, just shut your mouth!” The man who is not holding you, the smaller one, barks.

If you really think about it, you come to the conclusion that talking back, giving unfunny retorts, and trying to run away are the worst possible things you could do in your terrible situation. But you are still drunk. You don’t think rationally. And that is a problem. You should be much more scared.

The men drag you through the halls, your curses and insults (that are horribly loud, by the way) echo in these high rooms, with their massive walls. The ceilings are being held up by these gigantic and elegant columns, and fine statues of soft women and heroic men fill every corner. You would have been amazed by the beauty of this place if it wasn’t for you being painfully torn by two men towards the dungeons. God must hate you very much, because you probably will die here.

It is a long hall where you come to a sudden halt.

“What in the gods’ names is this insufferably loud noise for?” A voice calls out, turning into a scream at the end, making your captivators flinch, now.

You try taking a clear notice of your surroundings again to see to whom that voice belongs. That’s harder than expected, because the alcohol in your blood denies you a clear vision, your eyes simply refuse to focus quickly enough. Not that you have had any chance anyway, because your head, no, your whole torso, is pushed harshly down to bend over. You’re now facing marble floor and your feet, thanks to the man holding your head down.

Steps come closer. Two people, three? You are not sure, everything is too dizzy anyway.

“Your majesty,” the taller man holding you speaks. He also has his head down, bowing, you realize, and suddenly he doesn’t sound so confident and harsh any longer. Humbled, he is. “My emperor, please, forgive us this disturbance.”

“It is in the middle of the night, and you are not even able to make sure that this palace is not being kept from sleeping.”

“Greatest apologies, your highness, greatest apologies,” the other man beside you quickly says.

“We make sure that the prisoner is being silenced and brought to the dungeons as quickly as possible,” the man gripping you mumbles, “your highness.”

Ah. A prisoner you really are now. Great, your new year couldn’t be better!

The man, who spoke and screamed at the two men holding you captive, scoffs.

“Cut out her tongue if necessary.”

What?

“Of course, your majesty.”

“I wouldn’t like that,” you mumble without thinking.

“What was that?” the so-called emperor says.

The air is thick suddenly, and horrible tension seems to be crushing you. Even the two men beside you shift uneasily. They are not bowing any longer.

“We will punish her for that, your—“

“I don’t remember talking to you, idiot!” He snaps. “Show me your face.”

Finally, the grip on your head loosens, and you inhale deeply to steady your racing heart when you slowly get back into a straight and less humiliating position. You feel, however, not less small.

The man in front of you has a killing big authority, according to the way the men are acting, but he himself isn’t big. In fact, he’s rather small, with red hair and no shoes, only dressed in a red sleeping gown, you guess. If it isn’t for his unpleasantly stormy expression on his face, you would believe him to be pretty harmless, like a sweet, sweet dog. (If you really think about it, he could be categorized as a furious chihuahua. But you stop thinking of weird dog metaphors.)

Beside him stands a woman, not bigger than the emperor himself. Light fabrics are hanging from her shoulder, wrapping elegantly around her body down to the floor. Beautiful jewelry adorns her arms, her neck, and her hair, and the long, dark curls fall nicely coiffed over her back. She looks obediently down at her feet, and you are not sure of the role she has to hold.

You start to feel weird in your clothes.

“Speak up,” the man with the red hair, the emperor, demands.

The situation is overwhelming, and you want to go home very much.

“Um,” you start, because you think too slow and need to remember what it is exactly he wants to hear, “I said I wouldn’t like that.”

He raises an eyebrow, and you want to run away.

“I could also let you fight to the death in the arena if that suits you better,” he says blankly.

“Excuse me?” You gulp, and a nervous smile shivers itself onto your lips. What have you gotten yourself into? Where the hell are you? You find no reasonable explanations anymore.

The emperor seems to enjoy your reaction, chuckling, and you wouldn’t be surprised if he starts shouting at you again just to see your miserable face.

“Please, don’t act as if you don’t know what happens to intruders. You surely can’t be that stupid,” he says and makes a step toward you.

“I—“ your voice cracks, “I am not an intruder, I promise!”

He looks you up and down, judging you. “What weapons was she carrying?”

The smaller of the men guarding you stutters around. “She, um, she wasn’t carrying any weapons, your highness.”

His gaze wanders back to you. “I seem to have misjudged you, you really are stupid.”

You feel pathetic.

“I don’t even know how I got here, I swear! I fell off the stairs, bumped my head, and, just like that, woke up here,” you explain hastily, trying to somehow prove your innocence of any crime. When you see the emperor not reacting in favour of your well-being, you quickly go on: “And I am not insane!”

That makes you, actually, sound more insane.

“You think you’re funny, don’t you?” He starts, his voice low.

“Sometimes, yes…” You mumble, not thinking.

“Stop that!” He shouts, and the taller guard gives you a hit on your already hurting head.

“Do you even realize how incredibly ridiculous your story sounds?” he goes on, his voice loud and his face furious. “Do you even have the slightest idea who you are talking to? Jupiter, have mercy on me. I am Emperor Geta, ruler of the Roman Empire, and I forbid you from lying to me like that, you—“ he struggles to find an insult—"you barbarian!”

You traveled through time. That’s the first thing that comes to your head, the next thing is the tears forming in your eyes without you wanting them to.

“Please!” You beg, suddenly falling to your knees. “I don’t know anything, really! Do you see my clothes? I don’t know what happened. Do you think I would come up with that weird explanation to disguise stealing? I don’t want to die!”

There is a weird silence where you crouch on the floor in the most humiliating state possible, the guards not knowing what to do, Geta eyeing you with anger and some sort of interest. Your sniffing is the only sound that can be heard for that time, and when the confused man lets your hands go, you wipe your nose with your hand. It’s the bloody one, and you now have blood smeared under your nose and on your lips.

“My emperor, Geta,” a shy voice suddenly speaks up. It is the soft woman. “May I state a thought?”

He turns towards her, realizing that she is present, and makes a disinterested “hm” and an approving hand movement.

“I don’t see why she would be lying about that. The guards haven’t found a weapon or something stolen. She seems to be severely wounded, it could explain the loss of memories. I know from experience that that is something possible to happen.”

“That doesn’t explain how she got into my palace!” he snaps.

“No, no, it doesn’t. But,” the woman looks at you, “she doesn’t seem to have bad intentions. Before you want to raise your judgement, which I trust to be fully reasonable and legal, we could maybe give her some time to remember some things about… her story.”

You don’t understand why she is helping you, you really don’t.

Geta seems to consider. His eyes twitch over your face, then your body.

“How do I make sure she won’t hide anything she remembers from me?” he thinks out loud, an awfully presumptuous tone in his voice.

The woman is about to speak up again, but he raises his hand sharply, signaling her to stay quiet. She obeys.

“If you, you stupid girl, have to tell me something in the next weeks, I will grant you a punishment that does not involve your death,” he says and goes down onto his knee to look you right into your eyes, “because Cornelia believes you didn’t want to murder me in my sleep, and I trust her. Besides that I think that you,” he suddenly grabs your face, holding your cheeks too tightly between his thumb and the other fingers, “have a quite interesting pretty face.”

You startle at the sudden touch of Geta. His face is much too close to yours, and your stomach clenches.

“Also, I am not in the mood to see you dead.” He lets go and stands up again.

How merciful, you want to reply, but this time you can stop yourself. You just escaped death for at least some days.

“Prove yourself.” He holds his hand right in front of your face, and you need some time to grow aware of what he’s demanding with that. While you slowly lean forward to press your lips as softly as possible (you don’t want to touch him at all with your lips) onto his fingers, you think that you could as well bite him.

But you choose life this time.

He pulls his hand away (thank God) and looks at the taller man, who is still standing right beside you.

“You.” He points at him.

“My name is Augustus, your highness.”

“I don’t care the slightest for your name,” he hisses. “You lead her down to the dungeons. You,” now he speaks to the smaller man, “leave. Tomorrow I will talk to her.”

Oh, no, no, no! Not the dungeons! You try to wriggle yourself free again when your arms are again being grabbed, but you have no chance of escaping.

Emperor Geta turns around, already about to leave, but he stops and hesitates.

“Cornelia,” he speaks to the woman, “bring her something proper to dress in. These clothes she has are horrible.”

“Wait, no, I really like my things—hey!” You are dragged off.

“Gods have mercy, don’t you ever shut off?”

That’s the last thing you hear from Geta before he is gone, out of the hall, and you are, once again, being dragged through the massive palace towards the dungeons.

Never in your life have you been in such a desperately pathetic situation, and you curse yourself for ever finding your normal life boring. Right now you would like to do anything that didn’t involve trying to convince a crazy Roman emperor that you suffer from amnesia and needing to come up with a damn good explanation of how you got here.

And you have not the slightest idea how to do that.

Shit.

[ask-the-rag-dolly]

after listening to an among us song i was given the drive to reboot this au so ,

originated from a doodle that spiraled , SPREAD THE INFLUENCE is an au where ragatha is the ( unwilling ) host of a parasite called ' the influence ' which is a virus that only wants to spread and survive . she wasn't compliant about it at the beginning which was ' fixed ' with an itty bitty bit of psychological torment !

also yes i know the abbreviation is unfortunate and i do not care it's funny

even though ragatha's still our usual sweet little optimist , there is this persistent feeling of wrongness . too positive . too affectionate . it's like all of her humanity has been scooped out and you're left with the mask she made for others in the circus .

which is how the virus spread in the circus - they preyed on vulnerabilities which was what their host is perfect for . striking when the victim puts their guards down , making them submit under the guise that their problems will be fixed ... unfortunately it's a monkey's paw situation .

of course , that's only for this particular instance of the influencer ! something to note is that the virus takes a lot from the host's personality , so t.i's mellow and passive , only resorting to violence whenever necessary . t.i's not really an opposite ragatha she's more like a Dark , Fucked Up Version of ragatha the amazing digital circus . she cares a lot for everyone she considers a part of her hive , but it took a lot of manipulation and gaslighting for them to get infected .

caine is left uninfected because " i would do that if my goal is to destroy this place ! " t.i's ultimate fear has always been dying . it'll do everything to not die , to the point it's trying to spread out of the circus ( <- honestly take this info with a grain of salt i wrote this before i fully developed the story ) . unfortunately there's this jester who's resisting the virus with pure lesbian rage and is trying to stop her .

now rags would eventually get de-influenced and the circus will no longer be infected , but we will talk about the extremely rocky journey of recovering from knowing you harmed everyone you cared about Later

was this ' the influence ' that amanda ( ragatha's va ) keeps referencing ? sighs ... yeah . ( feels so surreal that i can say i have their seal of approval for this )

why ragatha ? in story , how is she not the perfect host ? metatextually , this is an au of an au - this came from a blog about ragatha getting a virus that is inconveniencing her life . i simply thought of an idea of ' hey what if the virus took over her body ' one day . then this abomination was born . i would reveal the why and how she got infected ... eventually .........

is she still afraid of centipedes ? is it a ragatha if she doesn't have a fear of centipedes

does pomni still use a taser ? yeah

could i use / be inspired by the influence for my au ? i did not invent the concept of Computer Viruses so feel free to be inspired by it , no credit needed . for t.i as a character specifically , please credit me !

are there ships ? just pomni x ragatha

is suggestive content of t.i ok ? just don't send them to me , tag it as #tw suggestive or #suggestive so i could filter it out

is nsfw content of t.i ok ? my tiny artist hands are powerless against the unstoppable force that is the internet so my answer will not matter . that being said , i recommend that they're not put in the main au tag so people won't unexpectedly come across it . and no i do not want to see it please do not send them to me

could i draw fanart / write fanfic of this au ? 100% yes you could either mention me or tag it under #tadc influence au

does this au have an ask blog ? nah just a normal blog lol

READ THE COMIC ... I GUESS ... !!

the main story

oh boy a prologue

[flymetothexmoon]

Bikes + Leather-Studded Kisses

Warnings: Mentions of Nictoine. Dry Humping. Public Smut. Oral F!Receiving on Motorcycle.

Pairing: Established Relationship with Choi Seunghyun x F!Reader.

Authors Note: definitely not the first fanfic about Seunghyun and Reader on a Motorcycle so kudos + respect to the person who wrote it first because you a real one. This is my take on a quote my beautiful girl @aizshallnotbefound said in a moment of silliness so pls be nice. enjoy~

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚˚ʚ♡ɞ˚˚ʚ♡ɞ˚˚ʚ♡ɞ˚˚♡ɞ˚

Maybe you were having a midlife crisis.

Or maybe you were exactly where you needed to be.

It was Saturday, the type of Saturday where the cherry blossoms were in bloom and you could feel the sun hitting your skin.

You, however, were not in Yongdap-dong for the cherry blossoms. Somehow, you found yourself in front Ducati Korea as your eager eyes began to scan the outside of the building. Buying a motorcycle was not always something you envisioned doing when turning the age you did, but it was either go check out bikes or dye your hair something crazy and you figured given your boyfriend's past of random hair coloring experimentation, you would do the later.

The doors to the establishment eventually unlocked with the clicking sound from the mechanics of the interior locking system. It was now or never.

You could feel your eyelashes fluttering against your eyelids as your feet made their way inside of the building; the smell of the leather jackets that were for individual sale, the sound of employees offering one another the slight murmur of small talk, the sight of all different models of motorcycle that glistened in the vehicle showroom– you could practically taste the somehow bitter yet watered down coffee they provided for guests and employees alike.

It did not take long for someone to make their way over to where you were. Assuming it was someone on their sales team, you smiled warmly at the person coming toward you.

This person was dressed with the three c's in mind; comfort, collectiveness, and confidence, as the two of you began simple conversation of them asking what brought you in, what you were looking for out of a motorcycle, and financing.

You were brought back to their desk as you took the seat across from them, your eyes darting from the keyboard they were typing on to also aborbing your surroundings as more people began to walk into the shop.

"I hate to pry, but you mentioned this was your mid life crisis moment so you did not color your hair. You do not seem that old... may I ask your age?"

Honestly you could not remember the last time someone was so direct with you. When you answered, the sales professional nodded, smiling warmly at the comment.

"I would have never guessed. You look great."

The rest of the process was quick, easy, and dare you say painless considering you were at the mercy of the person selling you this motorcycle.

You had already taken the vehicle for a test drive and you were currently waiting to be cleared for purchase. As you sat in the same comfortable but somehow also uncomfortable chair, you twiddled with your thumbs, the ring on your left middle finger making contact with the top part of your knuckle on your thumb.

"No need to be nervous. Right now we are waiting on a bank approval for the loan to check the funds are really there. As of now it looks like you could be driving off in your new motorcycle. Can I interest you in some accessories while we wait? Most women love the idea of getting a new jacket, or maybe some designer gloves so they do not blister their hands..."

Interrupting your thoughts, the canine part of your teeth began to chew at the sensitive skin of the inside of your cheek.

Nodding, you agreed to at least take a look.

Seunghyun, your boyfriend, had always told you how delicate your hands were. He was the type of man who paid for your manicures, his excuse being that he wanted to be in charge of what he saw when your hands were in sync with your mouth when both body parts were wrapped perfect around him.

As you followed your sales professional to the part of the showroom where they kept accessories, your feet began to glide across the tiled floor with ease, your hands holding the delicate fabric between your fingers, the little tiny rhinestones on each ring finger were bouncing off the iridescent light fixtures.

The pesrson selling you the motorcycle followed close behind, but kept their distance as you continued to test the fabric to each jacket, feeling the different types of leather as you finally stopped at one specific one; one you knew Seunghyun would love.

"This is it. This is the one I am panning to get."

It did not take long for the person behind you to nod their head as they eagerly grabbbed the appropriate size and design you'd pointed out. Continuing to walk around, you did indeed end up buying a pair of gloves that would balance the look of the bike and the jacket you'd just chosen.

Before long, your name was being called, bringing you back to the days when you were in school.

An approval.

You smiled wide, your freshly manicured nails glistening in the light once again as you signed your name across a dotted line, extending your hand out to the person who you'd just spent a few hours of your day with.

Somehow, you'd kept this little secret of yours away from Seunghyun as you stood outside the establishment, the familiar of feeling of the sun radiating back on your arms as you admired the motor vehicle in front of you. You had known Seunghyun would not be home for a few hours to admire its beauty in the sunlight, so you were sure to make a point to change your attire later in the day.

•┈┈┈••✦♡✦••┈┈┈•

As the day grew in time, the different hues in the sky began to change as you admired the sun slowly setting.

The ride to you and Seunghyun's shared penthouse was not a long one, less than hour to be exact, as you waited for his return. You were more comfortable on the bike than you anticipated being and the way your back arched while leaning forward was almost sinful as your hands held onto the handle bars appropriately.

It did not take long for you to change into the appropriate attire you wanted to be wearing the moment Seunghyun got home. It was simple, yet practical as you paired a pair of high wasted dark wash jeans with ripped holes at the knee, a pair of ankle boots that cut off at the ankle, and a lace top with frills at the neckline that complimented the leather jacket you'd purchased earlier and the leather gloves you'd also purchased earlier.

Your eyelashes fluttered against your lids as the different colors in the sky began to remind you of cotton candy, a sweet treat you had not had since childhood, but the familiarity still crushing your bones from the inside out.

Eventually, you could see headlights forming in the distance as a blacked out vehicle started to come up on the hill you two lived on. Upon squinting, you realized it was Seunghyun and who you assumed was his driver for the day.

As the vehicle got closer, eventually parking right in front of where were standing, your smile only widened as the door opened and your boyfriend was slowly emerging out of the door. His back was still to you as you saw his long fingers holding the tip of the door's window for balance and him handing the driver money. You noticed him bow in respect and gratitude for the lift as he removed his hand from the window, closing the door shut behind him.

Seunghyun always waited for the driver to leave before making his way into the house. He still had not noticed you were there, let alone, what you were standing with. You watched him bow a second time, his lips curving into an exhausted smile as he finally turned to face you.

You could not hold the excitement any longer as you watched in real time his eyes widening at the sight of you, at the sight of the bike you were previously leaning against as you reached up, holding his neck tightly and pushing your chest against against his. His heartbeat was loud and spertatic against yours as you felt his arms shake a little as they wrapped around your smaller frame.

Seunghyun somehow pulled you closer as his head found its way to look behind the two of you, looking at the bike that sat parked neatly behind both of you. He pulled away only slightly, his fingers rubbing tiny circles into your hips as you waited for any kind of reaction he could give you.

The taller man stayed silent and still, the only movement coming from his fingers on your hips you pushed on him closer, doing anything to feel him against you. Seunghyun only shifted at the contact, a murmured gasp leaving his vocal cords and a pop from the muscle in his jaw.

"Princess, why is there bike in our driveway?"

Finally, you let out an even louder excited giggle as you shimmied out of his grasp, pulling his hand that was once drawing little circles in your hip into the clasp of your hand as you dragged him the small distance to the bike, practically jumping up and down as you watched him admire the motor vehicle. His hand let go of yours for a second so he could circle the vehicle properly, his hand slowly extending to grace his fingers across the matte black paint.

"Well. As you know, my birthday was recently here, and I was thinking about what I could get for myself as a milestone gift. I thought about maybe dying my hair, but I saw someone riding around in one recently and it reminded me of when I got my motorcycle license a while back and never did anything with it. Surprise?"

You'd watched Seunghyun do a full walk around of the bike, his fingers still gracing against the paint job like he was trying to savor the feel of the finish. Like a nervous tick, his tongue darted from his mouth, licking the perfect stride against his lips slowly.

He was in deep thought.

Seunghyun continued to wet his lips and it was like everything shut off in the decision making part of your brain as you began to feel like mush, your legs closing tightly against one another, solely based off primal instinct as you hoped he did not notice.

Of course he did.

He notices everything you do— especially when it came to the beauty flower that was between your legs.

The taller man stopped what he was doing, stepping closer to you again, his hands finding your hips once more as they firmly grasped onto them like you needed him to stay straight. Before you could say anything else, you were off the ground and you were sat on the bike you'd just purchased, facing the opposite direction as the handlebars as the grip your boyfriend had on you tightened, his body closing in on yours as you inhaled deeply and took in his scent.

Marlboro Red cigarettes and Teakwood.

Seunghyun was closer than before as his breath hitched at the base of your neck where it met your collarbone. His lips parted slightly, the canine part of his teeth gracing against the sensitive and exposed area of your skin as you gasped quietly at the sudden feeling.

"You taste like cherries. Are you wearing your cherry perfume again or have you been hitting your silly little vape again? I told you that stuff is bad for you, Princess."

His teeth bit down harder as they managed to hit the bulging part of your collarbone this time, his tongue gently circling the inflamed area.

"Considering you smoke cigarettes all day, I do not think you have a valid excuse to make fun of me for my vape flavor of choice, old man. Sorry for wanting my lungs to be flavor coated,"

Your boyfriend's laugh was low, the vibration from his vocal cords causing the entire upper part of your body to lock up and the bottom half of your body going into a full spasm nodes. Honestly you did not know what was worse, and before you could think of another clever response to defuse the situation, his lips were on yours. By the way his lips felt on yours, it could have fooled you into thinking it had been longer since you were last intimate.

Like instinct, your hands went to the shirt he was wearing; a black simple button down that had the first two top buttons undone, a simple action that made you think of sin when you imagined the release it must have him when he did that. The tips of your nails were peaking through the fingerless portion of the riding gloves you were wearing, the manicured tips gently sliding across the exposed part of his chest.

It did not take long for Seunghyun to audibly groan against your lip, his body pushing against yours with a sense of urgency as his tongue forced his way into your mouth, not even bothering to beg for an entry way. As Seunghyun moved his body against yours, one of his planted firmly next to you on the seat of the bike you were sat on, the faint sound of his nails digging into the leather as you held onto his shirt tighter.

Seunghyun was a lot of things, but one thing that he could not pride himself in was his lack of patience. He was never satisfied doing just one thing, and had always to take things to a notch, and that was no exception when it came to your sex life. For being such a private person, somewhere deep in his soul he craved attention more than most, and maybe that is why he went into the entertainment industry, so he could hide when needed and to be praised when needed.

You barely had time to notice Seunghyun's own leather jacket he was wearing until he finally pulled away from you and leaving the the both of you gasping for air as you locked eyes. By how you two looked, people would think you were high off more than each other as both: your and his pupils were completely blown from the best drug on the market— intimacy.

"Do you have any idea what you did to me tonight, mm? The way I come back from doing press all day to you standing here next to this bike, the way you got all dolled up in a lace top and leather jacket as if you are not already the hottest woman I'd ever seen."

Slowly, your cheeks turned the same color as the sun setting behind you both.

You wanted to thank him, but before your brain had time to form a complete sentence, his hands were back on you, only this time they were at your knees as he forced them to be spread and on display for him his eyes went straight to your core.

Seunghyun moved his head to the side, his jaw slightly popping again, as he quickly dropped to his knees in front of you like he was praying to a God he did not know he needed until his eyes were at level with you. You still had your jeans on but that did not stop the man from moving his middle finger down your clothed folds like he knew exactly where each part of you was— and he did.

His finger continued to work its way up and down the center most part of your jeans as your legs squirmed the tiniest bit. Not because you did not want him to continue, but because you did.

Your boyfriend quickly caught onto this as his left quickly darted upward grabbing the exposed part of your knee as his thumb drew circles on over the ripped part of the fabric and the soft touch of your knee itself as he spread you even further, his hand staying put as a way to keep you still.

Seunghyun began to mumble at the sight of you, his tongue escaping to wet his lips once again as you made out something he was mumbling. It was rushed, and in Korean, but you still understood every word.

"진짜 존나 아름다워. 마지막 식사처럼 널 음미할 거야."

Everything that happened next was a blur when your hips began to raise, only slightly, as you now sat bare on the leather seating of the bike. The seat was cold, but under the soft hues of pinks and purples from the sky and for all you'd already endured since Seunghyun got home, you could not be anymore warm.

Your boyfriend was still sat on his knees in front of you, his own dark wash jeans hitting the pavement to the driveway as he seemed to take forever admiring you. The tint of his yellow sunglasses was slightly reflective as you watched his hands remove them from his face and place them behind his own head neatly as he moved closer to you and began to slide his middle finger back to at the center of you, only this time his finger hitting you bare.

"I don't know why you bought this thing... If you wanted something to sit on and take a ride on, my face and cock have always been an option..."

That was all it took.

That was all you needed, and to be frank, all he needed before his mouth was on yours.

Hot, wet, and needy. So dam needy.

Your hips were already grinding against his face as you involuntarily jerked forward to give him better access as one of your hands dug into the leather seat and your other tangled deep into his dark roots, your almond shaped nails scratching at his scalp in response.

Seunghyun had been interested in art ever since he could remember, but he swore he had never seen something so artistic and beautiful until he first experienced his face being between your legs and his mouth attached your pussy like he would never have the blessing to eat another meal.

It was not until you began to continuously scratch at his scalp when you felt a vibration from his vocal cords vibrate against you like a goddamn orchestra.

His mouth felt like fire and the only that could reduce the flame was the wetness between and around your fold. The taller man's tongue would move up the same way it would move down as he tried to savor the taste like he wanted to remember for later. His mouth closed in on you as you felt the movement of his lips placing delicate, sloppy, kisses at the core of your pussy.

You squirmed again, your own head tilting back in the moment as your hand tugged at his sensitive roots.

Seunghyun leaned back quickly, his mouth leaving you as he looked up at you, completely wrecked and unaware of his intense gaze on you as his now swollen lips parted slightly, the arrousl of you still glissening across the bottom parts of his chin.

"Princess. If you do not stop squirming, I will leave you out here...."

Even in your wrecked state, you paused.

He paused.

Eventually, you whimpered in response.

His head dove back to you, only this time when his mouth latched onto yours, he quickly added a finger into you as well.

The pleasure was unlike anything you'd ever experienced. Sure, Seunghyun ate you out; in fact, he usually tried to at least once a day, but he never dared to eat you out like this, and in public where any of his neighbors could potentially see the two of you.

Seunghyun's one finger inside of you quickly turned to two as the metal one of his rings became a prominent part of the sensation. He was knuckle deep into you as his fingers pumped in and out of you, setting an already painful pleasurable pace inside of you. The way his fingers curled just enough, and the way his mouth latched onto your pussy like he was writing out his own godddamn full name in cursive.

His finger movements started to get sloppy, at point his fingers slamming into you once and then staying there as you began to tremble around him, and he boy could he tell.

Not only were his finger movements slowing down, but his the way his tongue began to dart at the bud of your pussy more quickly, he knew it was going to happen soon and you were both ready.

"Seunghyun, I— please. I'm going to cum. Need your mouth... and your fingers."

You would not be able to feel how hard he was, not yet anyway, and you definitely would not be able to say much more before his lips began to violently suck on you again and his fingers began to pump in and out of you again.

Half of him wanted to tell you to be his good girl and cum, half of him wanted to pull away from you all together and shove his own jeans to the pavement and fuck you stupid, but in the moment all he could properly comprehend was good damn good you tasted on his mouth.

Seunghyun's movements were fast and all you needed was the warmth of the metal from the ring on his middle finger and the warmth of his mouth signing a single "n" with the flick of his tongue as he signed his name into you one last time.

By the time you'd actually finished, the sky had gew darker and the moo began to shine through a nearby tree as Seunghyun pulled his mouth away from you, leaning back so his back supported his knees, removing his fingers from you as well with the sound of a pop from the wetness of inside you.

Bringing his two digits to his mouth, he licked his fingers clean of you, watching as you slowly caught your own breath and made eye contact.

"Good thing the seats were leather..."

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚˚ʚ♡ɞ˚˚ʚ♡ɞ˚˚ʚ♡ɞ˚˚♡ɞ˚

Tag List: @loveesiren @gdinthehouseee @aizshallnotbefound @mashtatosworld @wcnderlnds @lexalith @ttt-1987s @breakmeoff @ldydeath @berfgrimm @emmiesoverthemoon @infinetlyforgotten @cupidsonly @djarindroid @szonyix6277 @nerdydoll-com @sherrayyyyy @eru-vande

💌 Ask to be added 🌙

💌 Requests are open 🌙

[apiciuscats]

— YOU'RE A... CAT?! | Sakamoto Days

🐾 SUMMARY — After an experiment gone wrong, you've magically transformed into a cat! How does your partner react..?

🐾 CHARACTERS — Shin Asakura, Nagumo Yoichi, Uzuki Kei, Gaku, Heisuke Mashimo, Natsuki Seba, Osaragi [separate]

CONTENT & NOTES — Established relationships, probably OOC characters, comedy and fluff, very very mild depictions of fighting [just in case !]. This is my first fic ever on tumblr, and my first official fanfic I ever shared online. I don't write often so keep that in mind before interacting or judging! I'm so nervous posting this. Any advice is appreciated 🥺

WC — 2.2k total. 200-300 per character.

SHIN ASAKURA —

Shin is not used to the change at all. His first thought is prioritizing getting you back. But looking at you now, sleeping in the sun, he starts to wonder if that’s what you really want. Your thoughts are stranger now, harder to read. Sometimes they only appear as images, and the voice in your mind is much quieter. 

Lu is not alarmed at the change at all. In fact, she takes the opportunity to chase you around, trying to pet you or hold you. Shin chastises her to be more careful. She doesn’t offer any good advice on how to turn you back, either, and tries to get you to drink alcohol. Good thing you're still a human inside, or else that could have gone badly. He finds Sakamoto next, but he’s just as useless, only patting your head in silence.

While he’s at the counter focused on thinking, you jump next to him. He looks at your eyes. They’re the exact same colour as when you’re a human. He has to admit you turned into a very cute cat. He looks at you.

”Meow.”

He doesn’t get what you want, but he eventually reaches forward to pet you. 

You leave fur all over him when you lie on his lap. He misses talking to you on breaks, but you still accompany him, tail swaying leisurely and letting Hana pet you, or playing with Piisuke when Heisuke comes by. You seem completely.. unbothered, at least for the time being. He takes a deep breath and tells himself to relax. 

Admittedly he gets worried when he loses sight of you for the first time. He knows typical cats need their sleep and alone time, but he frets that perhaps some assassin took you. Why would an assassin take a cat in the first place, he doesn’t know, but he can’t help but worry anyway. He gets so relieved when he just finds you sleeping or hiding somewhere in the shop or returning from a walk with the Sakamotos. 

Rating: 8/10. He plays with you and gets you back to human form quickly, and you get lots of attention from the employees of the store. 

YOICHI NAGUMO —

He finds the temporary change so cute! You could be stressing out about it and he wouldn’t even care. Loves randomly picking you up and taking you along his merry way or assaulting you with pets. You know the videos where the owner pets their cats more aggressively each time? That’d 100% be him. He just likes teasing you too much!

He buys you all types of cat toys to see if you’re interested in them. Maybe some feline instinct. He waves it in front of you while you’re trying to nap. You don’t seem to be reacting. In fact, you’re rather annoyed at him. But your hissing doesn’t seem to drive him off. But as he places the plastic mouse closer to you, that’s when you strike! You promptly severe the string and fruitlessly throw the mouse at him. Alright, no toys it is. 

Canonically rich. Buys you a lot of luxury cat food. You seem hesitant eating it, so he buys you food both humans and cats can ingest and handfeeds you. Even if he’s a menace, he still wants to make sure you’re healthy and have a full belly to sleep with. 

He knows he eventually has to find a way to revert you to human form again. He busies himself with that when you’re sleeping. For the time being, when you’re awake, he wants to enjoy the time harassing his cute cat partner. 

He certainly doesn’t trust giving you to any of the Order members. Nor does he think any of them would agree to catsit in the first place. If he’s too busy, he opts to drop you off at Sakamoto’s Store, where Hana is more than elated to give you pets. Returns and sneaks up on you [if even he can surpass your now heightened cat senses] and picks you up, ignoring your irritated meows. The best way to get back at him is to scratch his clothing. 

Rating: 6/10. He gets you good food and makes sure you’re alright, but his relentless petting and teasing will drive you up the wall. 

UZUKI KEI —

The predicament is awkward for him. Kashima might know a way to get you back to human form, he thinks, and tries to prioritize that first.

He doesn’t want you to follow him around on his organization business. Sure, the chances of an enemy targeting a cat is slim to none, but there’s a chance for falling debris, or an accidental slash—… and the sight of him with a cute cat following him really diminishes the cold, calculating killer thing he has going on. 

For the time being, he leaves you with Haruma or Kumanomi, who is equally puzzled at the predicament but more than happy to follow his orders or have a cat companion for the day. Gaku seems like the type of person to forget you were there and abandon you, so she’s the only one to trust in this situation. 

He’s not even used to receiving or giving affection while you’re human, so he’s not sure how to approach it when you’re.. well.. a cat. You’ll have to approach him and somehow get it through that you want pets. Meow a lot or lean against his legs, and he eventually hesitantly rubs your head and chin. 

If you really want to follow him while he does his dirty work, he’ll make sure you follow closely. It’s a comical sight to see for the renowned Slur to have a cat following him like a lost lamb, but why does it matter when all the people who witnessed it are dead anyway?

After a bit, he tolerates it and gets used to the predicament. He doesn’t mind giving you a few pats if you approach him. He still wants the entire thing to be over as quickly as possible. He finds out that as cute as you are as a cat, he prefers you as a human much more. 

Rating: 7/10. Given time to at least adjust, he gets you what you need and gives nice pets.. he’s just mostly unsure what to do. 

GAKU —

The situation doesn’t bother him that much. Eventually, someone would find a way to return you to human form. For the time being, the largest loss suffered is someone to play video games with. 

Lets you sit on his shoulder like a Pikachu or on his lap to watch him play games instead. You fall asleep quite easily, and your claws dig into his skin when you try to get a closer look. He doesn’t care that much. You leave cat fur all over him by the time he’s returning to the others. Kumanomi scolds him, so he opts to play shirtless instead when you’re with him. In the end, Kumanomi is still annoyed, but now you have two things to look at when he games, so what is there to complain about?

He doesn’t discourage you following him around for his job. You just have to be careful. Stand too close while he’s fighting and someone’s body soars through the air and almost smashes you into a wall. 

The fright was huge, but at least he comforts you with some snacks. He’s not sure what to feed you. You don’t seem happy with the idea of cat food— you were still a human in there, after all. He settles for sharing some of his chips with you. 

He’s not very protective over you when you’re a cat. He lets you go for walks or leave the area to explore. So long you return by nightfall he’s content with being alone for the day. Internally he does find that the lack of your company feels strange, and quietly makes sure you’re nearby when you return. 

Rating: 8/10. A surprisingly good cat owner. Lets you do what you want or spend time with him. Just try to avoid tripping him up if you must follow him to a fight. 

HEISUKE MASHIMO —

He finds you so cute! He’s good with animals since he has Piisuke. 

He has trouble finding you stuff to eat. He goes to Sakamoto’s Store and shares a bun between the three of you. His friends from the store are certainly puzzled over the predicament, but it’s good that he has companions he can entrust with you. 

For the most part, he wants to keep you close to him. He carries Piisuke on one shoulder and tries to carry you on his other. However, carrying a bird on your shoulder is much easier than carrying a cat. When he gets excited or sprints somewhere, you have to dig your claws into his shoulder so you don’t fall. He only notices a few minutes later and apologizes with lots of head pats. 

The first day or so he gets you, he’s very worried about you and wants you to be with him at all times. Maybe it’s just something about your smaller, cuter form that he frets you’ll get lost somewhere. He’s no better, but at least he has Piisuke to help him, which you don’t!

You probably strayed off to explore or fell asleep under a thick bush and after an hour or so he’s panicking and bawling his guts out thinking you must have got hit by a car or taken by a stranger thinking you were a stray. Piisuke finds you rather quickly and you have to accompany him until he can finally tell himself that you’ll be fine and you need your own alone time too. 

His excitement is admittedly endearing. He’d want to show off to everyone how cute his partner was as a cat!

Rating: 8.5/10. Fun to be around, not too stressed out about the situation and good with pets. His enthusiasm with you can be a bit overwhelming. 

NATSUKI SEBA —

Treats you pretty well, actually.

When he first learns about your predicament, he’s just like “Oh, damn.” He’d work to find a way to revert whatever happened.. but isn’t against the idea of having you as a cat for a day or two. 

For the time being, he doesn’t mind having you beside him while he works on his projects at the JCC. So long he’s not doing too much heavy work, he enjoys the quiet company.

Gives you a few pets from time to time and is smart enough to consider what foods you’d want to and can eat. 

He doesn’t even mind if you leave too much fur on his clothing, whether it be from sleeping on his sweaters or on his lap. He thinks he can just brush it off afterwards. Turns out cat fur has a knack for getting stuck on everything possible. It takes a thorough wash just to get it off. 

Mafuyu judges him when he sees him with too many strands of thin cat fur all over him. While Natsuki’s not that bothered by the idea of being covered in fur, Mafuyu, who is cleaner, does, and at first avoids you like the plague. Your fur is left everywhere, and it ends up getting on him anyway, so he reluctantly gives in and pets you too. 

It can be pretty boring when he’s busy, so he doesn’t mind taking you to the weapons research laboratories too. If the school happens to have anything against pets, he tucks you into his suit and turns you invisible. Easy. So long nobody moves the suit off the ground or questions why there’s a lump on his chest. 

Rating: 9/10. He’s not a bad cat owner and has no qualms with you leaving for a few hours to explore or you getting fur on him. 

OSARAGI —

Thinks you’re too adorable internally! 

She quietly picks you up and goes about her job. She didn’t think you’d have too many problems with her job. Unfortunately, the crashing of stone and the quick movements she makes when fighting are much more startling with your heightened senses. Everything scrapes at your ears and nose. 

Once she finishes with one of her jobs, she looks over only to notice you sitting at the side, looking traumatized. She only stares blankly, wondering what could have gotten you like this. 

Osaragi decides the best way to calm you down is to buy you lots of snacks. She makes a pit stop at a convenience store and presents you an array of food to choose from. It’s rare for Osaragi to share her food without her own terms, so you should be grateful, even if you can only stomach one or two bites. 

Probably unintentionally babies you with a blank expression. It is canon that she’s rather childish at heart. Takes you everywhere like a little furry companion. Eventually, it does hit her that she’ll need you to return to human form sooner or later. She likes you as a human too, so she has nothing against the idea. 

Although I think she’d typically want you by her side, she does let you off her radar throughout the day so you can nap or have some time to yourself. 

Rating: 7.5/10. Treats you pretty well, but she should be more considerate of your cat senses or how terrifying it must feel to be carried while in a high stakes fight, debris and blood everywhere. 

please don't copy or repost/translate my works, or use it to train AI.

pawprint header: @/dogfoodvendingmachine