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poisonf0rest · 2 months

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𝐎𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐜*𝐦𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐖𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐫’𝐬 𝐁𝐥𝐨𝐜𝐤 2

𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐈, 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐈𝐈, 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐈𝐈𝐈

love and deepspace: zayne x fem!reader

tags: smut, teasing, oral, cunnilingus, road head, car sex woohoo, pwp

word count: 6.6K

synopsis: Between being in the midst of your medical residency and being an up-and-coming author, it’s safe to say your personal life has been placed on stand-still. That is, until your editor decided that your next novel needed explicit smut scenes. That is, until your mentor and boss ends up striking a deal for you to help with “inspiration” for said novel. That is, until you fuck Zayne four times and your life changes forever. - partially inspired by manga of the same name by Nae Awaji

original ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/57209872/chapters/145519015

art credit: @/kaito_aii

This is the last time you have sex on a weekday.

When Zayne left your apartment last night, you tried to write while the aftereffects of everything he did to you- everything he watched you do- still lingered. But you were beyond distracted, unable to even sit still without being assaulted with vivid flashbacks, a mix of mortification and lust coursing anew.

You shut your laptop and scream into your pillow.

Only after feeling sufficiently lightheaded do you shut off the lights and try to sleep, but the damned thing avoids you like the plague, and you stare at the ceiling for an untimed eternity. Everything feels wrong. Your blanket feels too thick, your skin too tight, the entire room too warm, too empty.

You don’t get more than three hours of sleep that night.

But it should be common knowledge that hospitals rest for no one, and you jolt out of bed to the sound of your pager beeping, rushing in while the sky is still dark.

The ambulance pulls in at the same time you do and the paramedics are already yelling out the status to everyone at the bay: forty-three-year-old male, chest trauma, performing CPR. It’s a race, a rush and rhythm you know well. You’re scrubbed down and entering the operating room alongside two other surgeons. The patient is intubated and they give the countdown before cutting him open.

It took two and a half hours to perform the surgery and stop all the internal bleeding, and by the end of it, you were exhausted, both physically and mentally.

But this was the most in control you’ve felt for a while. A sharp sort of stress that forced your hands into a trained precision and your mind into a rigorous sort of calm. It was almost as though you became a different person entirely, one you both admire and hate.

She’s calm and collected, only speaking when needed in commands to the operating room. She demands respect. She is who your mother is proud of, who you were supposed to be.

You’ve only just washed your hands and finished debriefing when you feel that half of you begin to slip away once more. And as the stress leaves, your mind wanders back to last night. To Zayne.

Thoughts that haunt you for the rest of the morning.

Finally, the clock hits eight and the ER is busy with the morning crowd. You do what you can until the other residents clock in, leaving to finally eat breakfast and get some sort of caffeine before your headache gets any worse.

Luckily, the vending machine has your favorite melonpan and green tea, and you get two of each. Sitting down, open your laptop and begin eating in the hallway outside the surgery bay, your manuscript staring right back at you, mocking.

Your eyes burn holes through the cursor blinking at the top of the page, and you try to will yourself to just type something, anything, but it doesn't work, and you end up slamming the computer shut with a sigh.

Unintentionally, your male lead has begun to resemble Zayne more and more- not physically, at least- but in his little mannerisms, his overly formal speech habit, and even his uncharacteristic love of sweets. Your lips quirk up at the memory.

But speak of the devil, and he shall appear.

Zayne comes from the other end of the hallway, looking like he also might be coming out from a surgery. He’s only meters away when his eyes lock onto yours.

You straighten against the chair, a shiver of heat racing down your spine as his mere presence sends an onslaught of flashbacks that are nothing short of sinful.

Stop. What happened last night is part of a professional, mutually beneficial deal. Zayne is still your mentor— your boss too, in some contexts— and you refuse to have these thoughts about him in your place of work.

Smiling, your fingers still against the keyboard as you hope the whole thing doesn’t look as strained as it feels.

Zayne looks the opposite of amused. If anything, he appears pissed.

His gaze narrows on you, and for a second, you think you spot something else behind the cold indifference. But the look passes as quickly as it appeared, his face back to its usual stony expression, and you must have imagined it.

“Good morning, Dr. Zayne,” you say.

Zayne stalls, shoulders tensing for a moment before he nods and continues walking. He doesn’t spare you another glance as he passes, doesn’t say another word, the awkward tension so thick it almost makes you choke on your melonpan.

Your eyes trail after him until he rounds the corner.

Well, that went splendidly.

You try to type again, but it turns out your brain is a useless lump of flesh because no matter how many times you read over the paragraph, the words fail to register. You huff out an exasperated breath, slam the laptop shut, and drag yourself to your office to prepare for rounds.

Even so, you go through your morning routine with a strained smile, a newfound weight pulling against your chest, a sharp sort of pain between guilt and longing you’ve never felt before.

—----

Zayne is going to lose his fucking mind.

He is an adult, he reminds himself. A well-mannered, respectful, professional adult.

So why can’t he stop imagining your face underneath him as you come undone? Why can’t he get the memory of every sound you made, the overly sweet way you said his name, the very cadence of your voice out of his head?

And the way you said please.

Zayne grinds his teeth hard enough that something clicks in the back of his jawbone, his usual flat expression twisted with a scowl that sends other doctors and residents scrambling out from his path. His clipboard groans under the pressure from his grip, and Zayne can’t make it to his private office fast enough before he slams the door shut and drags his palm down his face.

He sees you every time he closes his eyes.

“Fuck.”

Zayne swore to himself that helping you would change nothing in the workplace, and yet clearly, only one of you was mature enough to hold that part of your deal up.

This must be a new level of depravity Zayne never assumed he would stoop to.

But it had been torture to only watch you last night. A beautiful, painful torture he would subject himself to again and again and again just for the chance to have you writhing against him like that once more.

The way your doe eyes had practically begged for him to fuck you all on their own when he forced you to look up nearly made him come in his trousers. And thank god you were too far gone to notice how desperate he was, grinding insistently against your bedsheets while you came around his fingers. And now…

And now Zayne was fucking hard again in his office of all places.

It was a wonder he got anything done anymore.

Zayne hasn't had a lover in years and it's beginning to wear him thin. And yet, the idea of finding someone else to satiate his needs doesn’t appeal to him in the slightest. Not when his mind is so consumed with the thought of you, and the sounds you made, the way you looked at him, the way your eyes would roll to the back of your head every time he curled his fingers into that spot inside of you.

God, he should have just asked you out on a date first.

Restraint had come easy to him. Zayne was practically raised on it, his very life dependent on his ability to restrain his Evol, the lives of others dependent on his patience and restraint in the operating room.

But no, when it came to you, everything failed him.

Maybe he had been a little harsh this morning. Zayne doesn’t know. He doesn't want to think about it.

Running a hand through his hair, Zayne imagines bumping into you again. Would you still be happy to see him, smiling as you did this morning, or would you ignore him just as he did you?

“About this morning,” Zayne stops, restarts. “I’m sorry for avoiding conversation earlier today.” A groan, “No, I can’t begin like that. This morning I wasn’t myself, there was a patient who required percutaneous coronary intervention and the stress must have gotten to me.”

He tries again, and again, gesturing to his empty office before dragging a palm down his face. “I must be going insane.”

Zayne has never felt more foolish in his life.

He doesn't even have the excuse of a lack of experience in this field. In his previous relationships, he was always the one to initiate dates and intimacy, and it was the same with any relation that had lasted longer than one night.

But you are different.

The thought of taking his time with you makes him weak. To finally have your legs wrapped around his waist, to finally hear his name on your lips, to finally have your body pressed flush against his and hear you beg for him once more.

He wants to do so much more for you, wants you to use him as you need, to take and take everything he has to give. Wants to surrender to your every whim and every outrageous idea you’ve ever had floating around in that unpredictable head of yours. Wants to taste you, and see if you taste as sweet as you sound when you beg.

Wants to know how your cunt feels and what face you would make when he finally, finally fucks you.

God, Zayne wants to ruin you.

He wants so badly it drives him mad.

Zayne can't avoid you, and he shouldn’t. There are still matters to discuss for your novel and a deal to hold up. He is a man of his word.

A date.

That could work. Just a way to get closer, as colleagues, as partners.

You would have to spend time together outside the hospital, where the air is clear of any distractions and expectations and Zayne can get his head on straight. Even moreso, it should be something nice, something that will hopefully take your mind off your impending deadline.

Right, that would be perfect. An opportunity to simply be providing you with the proper inspiration and guidance, as a good mentor should, and keep his end of the deal should you ask for another inspiration session.

Turning back in his chair, Zayne begins filtering through his email and paper files, until something slips from the growing stack.

The annual charity gala.

As a resident yourself, you were likely already invited, so proposing the two of you go together shouldn’t be too ostentatious, right?

Zayne stares down at the gilded gold lettering.

No. It was definitely out of line in so many ways. But the only other option was to continue down this path, to continue fooling himself that he only agreed to be your fuck buddy out of courtesy and care, and not these wretched thoughts that plauge his every waking moment.

It would mean he’d be completely at your mercy for seeing you next, whenever you needed him. Or his body, at least.

Zayne doesn’t have the willpower to last that long. Besides, this is more efficient.

So, Zayne opens the letter, pulls the invitation card from its envelope, and begins drafting an email to you in hopes of preserving a little bit of his dignity.

He didn’t even have to wait an hour to get your response: you said yes.

______

Zayne opens the car door for you, ever the gentleman.

Sliding into the passenger seat, you take extra care not to snag the hem of your cocktail dress on your heels or the door. By the time you buckle your seat belt, and the car roars to life, dashboard glowing a soft orange.

"Ready?" Zayne asks, adjusting his cuff as he begins to reverse out of the parking spot.

It’s the first time Zayne has formally invited you to be his plus one, and the thought of being seen beside him like this- at such a formal gala, no less- is all at once thrilling and nauseating.

Zayne steals another glance at you, and where your hands lay clenched in your lap. "It’s just a hospital event, you may very well see other residents there."

A laugh. "I'm not sure if that makes me feel better or worse."

Even without the extra stress from attending this gala, your stomach has been in knots all day long-- your manuscript is due in less than a week. You’ve written a lot, and Zayne’s hands-on “experience” helped you get ample inspiration for most of the main scenes. Yet you can feel the deadline creeping up, the sense of impending doom looming over you.

Of course Zayne notices. "We'll try and have fun, it's just a couple of hours. I heard they also have billiard tables, if you’re interested?” A tap on the steering wheel, then he adds, a little quieter, “Your dress is nice. The color suits you.”

You smile, but your eyes don’t leave the road. Instead, you seem to zone out on the row of streetlights, shadows cast over your face as they pass by, one by one.

“You clean up pretty well yourself, doctor.”

Zayne continues. “Tell me more about your novel’s progress, then. If you need any more assistance…” he trails off, and you feel a prickling heat creep up the back of your neck. Finally, you look away from the window, and Zayne relaxes against his seat.

So you begin to tell him about the newest trope your editor wants you to include, a classic in enemies-to-lovers books: forced proximity. “The concept is great. Who doesn’t love it when the two characters who swear they hate each other accidentally get stuck together and turned on at the worst possible time?”

You ramble, propping your arm against the car armrest as you turn to face Zayne. "So,” you say, ”I'm trying to think of ways they could find themselves in such a situation. Maybe they're cornered by guards or captured by a mutual enemy, or we combine the classic injury trope so they can’t move.”

"That is one option," he says, eyes still on the road. A turn, and Zayne shifts gears as the car speeds ahead.

“A classic my mind says no, but my body says yes dilemma.” You debate telling Zayne about the premise around aphrodisiacs and sex pollen, but you think that really might be pushing him too far. You are in a car, after all, and an accident is the last thing you want.

Instead, you ask, "Have you read any enemy-to-lover books?"

He shrugs. "I've had some experience."

"I'm sure you have."

Zayne shoots you a sharp look. Your smile grows, slow and wicked.

"And I've done a bit of research," he clarifies, voice flat just to prove a point.

"Right, research."

"Well, to best help you, I thought…” Zayne’s brows furrow as he merges lanes, letting the blinking of the indicator fill the silence before clearing his throat. “I thought reading a book or two in the same field would help me understand your own book better. I must say yours is far better written than some of these popular novels.”

The mental image of Zayne sneaking a read at some filthy romantasy book has you giggling.

"And you’re sure that's the reason?”

"Of course," he says, though his face is slightly pink.

You feign suspicion, poking at Zayne’s arm. "What if this whole time, you’ve been hunting me down as a means to read my unreleased books? Then the only reason you agreed to this arrangement is because you're secretly a stalker fan."

"Interesting theory,” a smirk, one you see pull at the corner of Zayne’s lips. “But not the only reason."

"Oh? What’s the other then?"

Zayne smiles, the dim light from the dashboard sharpening his features. Another turn, you spare a glance at the GPS only to see you’re nearly at the gala venue. But still, no answer came, not as Zayne seemed to refocus on the road, shifting gears as the light turns green.

You groan, “You’re not even listening anymore.”

“I am.” Zayne shoots you a look from the corner of his eye, one hand leaving the wheel to rest against your thigh. “There is, however, a difference between listening and answering.”

But now it’s your turn to stop listening. You can’t, not when his thumb does that thing again, tracing mindless circles against your inner thigh while he looks back at the road.

It does something, to have his hand there, warm and heavy. Something that has your thighs pressing together, heat creeping down your neck.

Zayne catches the motion. Of course, he does. And he squeezes, just a little.

And then a brilliantly wretched idea hits you.

"Do you have any suggestions?" You ask, trying to keep your tone innocent, even as you part your thighs just a little further. "I mean, you did research and all. Surely, you remember something useful about the plots. Or the sex scenes."

"The sex scenes," Zayne echoes, his voice tight.

"Well, yes. They're kind of important. They're why people buy the books." You lick your lips. "For example, surely one of those books you read for research had interesting forbidden tropes?"

"It's likely." His jaw ticks. "You'll have to be more specific.”

"Well..." you draw the word out, shifting in your seat. “You know where else would be a really inappropriate place for a character to get a boner?” Reaching over, you glide your hand up Zayne’s thigh, mirroring his placement on your own. “In a car, doctor.”

Zayne thanked every god for their mercy the moment he got to a red light, car jolting to a halt as he eyed you with a frown.

“Behave," he scolds. "This is beyond reckless."

The genuine frustration edged into Zayne’s voice makes you hesitate, and you move to sit up, retreating your hand from his thigh when it brushes past something unmistakably hard.

You feel Zayne tense beneath you, the car jerking forward before speeding along as though nothing had happened. Oh, but your lips cracked into a vicious grin as you stretched your way fully over the center console, wriggling your ass in the air on the far side of the seat.

Really, you should have realized that the stern, self-deprived Zayne gets off on scolding you as much as you did.

You watch him closely, but despite his harsh words, he never moves to actually stop you. So you continue, scraping your nails up his trousers as your mouth follows, hot breath leaving damp spots against the expensive cotton as Zayne’s thigh jumps under your touch.

God, the click of his belt coming undone elicited a nearly Pavlovian response at this point, the sound of metal on metal making something in your core flutter. You waste no time going for his zipper, palming at the bulge straining into your touch as it pushes out from between the metal all on its own.

Zayne laments all the trust you placed in him as a driver. Despite being only minutes from the venue, he swore he was gripping the steering wheel hard enough for it to snap. A car behind him honks and Zayne swears under his breath, thoughts clouding over as your hands finish sliding his zipper down, gently palming at his cock as he inhales sharply at the feeling of your hot breath over clothed skin.

And the moan Zayne lets out when you lick the head of his cock is enough to have you gushing. But you never take him any deeper, blocked by your position over the passenger seat, settling with unsatisfactory kitten licks up and down his length, leaving sloppy marks without ever speeding up.

Zayne shudders, huffing in frustration and restraint as he unconsciously tries to buck himself into your mouth, failing due to the awkward side angle you placed yourself in. Instead, you splay your hands over his lower belly, untucking his shirt as your fingers rub against his v-line, as you begin to suck just barely over this throbbing head.

“You shouldn’t– fuck." His jaw flexes, and his fingers are white-knuckled, the veins in his forearms standing out with the strain.

The shock of hearing Zayne curse was almost a physical blow. The word was spoken more like a prayer than a profanity, something desperate and violent caught in his throat, a warning and plea all at once. It made something hot coil deep in your gut.

It made you want to push him further.

You must have made some type of sound muffled over his cock because Zayne hisses, his hand coming down from the steering wheel to grab at your hair, fingers threading into your scalp and pulling, just enough to hurt.

"You are absolutely insufferable." Zayne's voice breaks into a moan. "Stop teasing me."

You pull off of him with a wet pop, sitting up and wiping the drool from your chin. "But I’m hardly doing anything. Don’t tell me you’re getting so hard just from a few kisses."

"Reckless. Lack of foresight. Do I need to teach you how to behave like an adult?" Zayne's grip on the steering wheel tightens, his jaw clenching. You can practically feel the heat radiating off him.

"No," you lean forward and kiss the head, lips wrapping around it as you swirl your tongue. Zayne's foot presses down on the gas and the car jerks forward. "But maybe I could use some help learning my lesson."

You swallow him down, and his hips jump. Humming around him, Zayne’s cock twitches, and before you can stabilize yourself he’s pushing your head down further. You don’t think he realizes he’s doing it, not with the way his hips stutter upwards, thickly corded muscles of his thighs tensing as you nearly choke.

Another broken moan fills the car alongside the wet sounds of your mouth, drool leaking from the corners of your lips as his cock bumps the back of your throat. You gag, and Zayne’s grip on your head finally loosens, the wheels spinning over loose gravel as you pull off just to breathe.

You can't see him, not with the angle, but the feeling of his eyes on you, burning into the side of your face, and the heavy throb of his cock against your tongue was enough to know just how close he is.

You're so distracted, tears blurring your vision, that you don't notice the car has stopped, not until Zayne's other hand is reaching over to cup your jaw, forcing your mouth off his cock and forcing your head up to look at him.

The moment your eyes meet, he frowns, thumb rubbing across your bottom lip, cleaning your smeared lipstick and spit from your ministrations. "Look at you," he hums. "What a mess."

The nearby spots in the lot are empty, but you’ve arrived early, and you can see cars parking close enough to send your heart racing.

You glance at the clock- seven forty-six- and you know despite how Zayne’s windows are tinted, it would take someone looking over from a meter or so away to see the two of you, to see the way Zayne's hands are fisted in your hair, to see you arched over the middle console, to see how hard he was and hear the slick, wet noises you made around his cock.

You nearly yelp as Zayne pushes you off his lap, messily tucking himself back into his trousers before climbing out the door. It shuts with a bang and you’re about to scramble up when you hear the passenger door open and are roughly hauled out of the car and slung over Zayne’s shoulder.

You don’t even have time to scream. The next thing you know, you're being tossed on your back into the back seat, barely having time to right yourself before Zayne follows you, door slamming shut. He's pulling at your dress, bunching the fabric up and around your waist before dragging you under him.

“Did I not satisfy you thoroughly enough last time?” Zayne scolds between breaths, teeth scraping over your pulse point before he bites down. “Or perhaps what I should have realized is that you’re simply a filthy little girl who gets off on being punished?”

The sound you let out is obscene, a whiny moan that has Zayne groaning as he pulls away, his mouth slick and shiny with spit. He grinds his cock against your stomach, his hand coming around your throat and forcing you to face him.

It’s almost effortless, the way he holds you against him, folding your thighs to your chest as he bends to avoid hitting the roof of his car. His cock is still rock hard and pressed against the back of your thighs, only the thin slip of your dress shielding you from his greedy eyes.

"Zayne- fuck, we're gonna be late." You choke out, a gasp following as his hips grind into yours.

“Answer the question.”

Another bite to the plush above your breast and you cry, fearing more for the possibility that he leaves a permanent mark more than anything else. As if hearing that, Zayne bites again. Harder.

“Yes!” You thrash, trying to kick him off you but there’s little room in the back seats and the leather sticks to your sweat-slick back as Zayne works to pin your hips. “Yes, I’m sorry. I only— I wanted to see how long you’d last.”

A laugh, short and cruel. “How long I’d last?”

Zayne grabs your wrists and holds them over your head. He leans close, so his lips brush yours when he speaks, and the words are low and soft. Dangerous.

"Well, then. Allow me to return the favor.” Zayne lifts your leg, pressing a kiss to your calf as your foot hits the window, one heel falling off with a thud. “If memory serves me right, isn’t this a trope too?”

It’s almost effortless, the way he lifts your hips all the way up, your legs kicking helplessly over his shoulders as they’re forced up against the roof of the car. Shifting his weight around in the tight space, Zayne coaxes your calves to cross behind his neck, giving a small grunt as his face is pressed into your inner thighs, one arm straining against the leather of the car seats.

“Where they’re stuck in a small space, right?” Zayne’s eyes never leave yours. “Maybe a cave,” his tongue trails up the bare skin of your quivering thigh, “Under a desk,” licking his way up, “in a car?”

He doesn’t give you a chance to answer, not when the heat of his mouth presses directly onto your clothed clit, licking over the lace of your panties as you arch off the leather seats.

You’re already a dripping mess, writhing against the leather of the seats and the hard muscle of Zayne's shoulders, the sensation of his hot tongue pushing against your clit through the lace a painful sort of pleasure. Not enough. Not nearly enough.

Zayne pulls off and stares at the string of his spit and your arousal, warm and sticky, against the soaked patch of cotton between your legs connecting to his lips. Involuntarily, he bucks into the cold emptiness underneath you.

Fuck, he’s so hard he might come from this alone.

You hardly notice, not with the way every muscle and nerve quivers and begs for release, jaw falling slack as Zayne’s lips are quick to tease you again, this time pressing his tongue flat against the crotch of your panties and laving across the entire seam. The gorgeous arch of his nose presses up into your clit, and you moan, one hand flailing backways as it slides against the fogged-up window.

"Zayne, fucking hell, just eat me out properly!" The curses tumble out of your mouth before you can think of the repercussions, but there was no way he could keep eating you out through the material, no matter how good it felt.

"So desperate." Zayne mumbles between open-mouthed kisses to your cunt, "So needy."

"Fuck- please," You draw one hand through his hair, pulling his face closer. "Please, please, please-"

"Poor thing. I suppose it would be against my oath to leave my patient in such pain." And he roughly presses his thumb up against the hood of your clit.

You sob, hands scrambling for something- anything- to hold on to as they slip down the window and dig into the leather of the seats. But Zayne was nothing if not observant from your last night together, and it doesn't take long for you to cum as soon as his mouth latches onto your poor neglected cunt through your panties.

Still riding out each trembling wave of your orgasm, Zayne doesn’t fight the way your thighs clench around his head, kissing you through it until he readjusts your legs against his shoulders, forcing you higher onto your upper back. His fingers toy with the edge of the fabric, pleased with the way it sticks to your skin.

All you can focus on is his breathing, heavy and fast, as he stares down at your cunt so intensely it makes you blush, helplessly exposed with your thighs pinned across his broad shoulders. Spread for him like every inch of the offering he intended on devouring you as. His goddess, his sacrificial lamb. Gods, he wants to know how every part of you tastes.

Zayne’s cock twitches again, and he shudders violently, a fat glob of precum falling onto the leather seats below, mixing with your slick that has already slid down his chin and your thighs.

If left alone, no doubt it’ll stain.

“Look at the mess you made.” Zayne scolds, forcing your jaw to the side so you can see the puddle staining the seats. You whimper, and Zayne shakes his head. “Well, we can’t just leave it. I suppose I’ll have to teach you to take responsibility for your actions.”

Your hips jump. It's so hard to focus when he's talking like that, and the only coherent thought you can muster is that Zayne would be a fantastic writer if he ever decided to switch professions.

But he begins to shift you around, and your brows furrow as Zayne’s hand dips between the two of you, down to the leather, sweeping across the splattered mix of cum with two fingers before forcing your jaw towards him again.

“Clean up your mess.”

You think something is permanently fucked in your brain with the way your cunt flutters at that.

Zayne’s unyielding face stares down at you, his dripping fingers pressed against your lips as you wrap around them and suck. It’s heady, the scent of sex overwhelming as Zayne practically fucks the digits into your mouth, sliding them against your tongue until you gag, thumb tracing loving circles against your bottom lip as though coaxing you to take them deeper.

Only after gagging twice more does Zayne take mercy on you, withdrawing his fingers from your mouth. Instead, the pads of his fingers press against your tongue, and you take the hint, beginning to suck at them until the taste of you disappears.

His fingers slip from your mouth, a trail of spit connecting his fingers and your mouth before Zayne breaks it. Your tongue flicks out to swipe at the excess drool, and he wipes your bottom lip.

“Good girl, tasting just how desperate you are.” Every word of praise Zayne whispers goes straight to your cunt, nearly making you dizzy until he finally sits back.

“And now…” he finally moves to push the ruined fabric to the side, “I get to taste, too.”

The feeling of his hot tongue directly on your slit nearly has you in tears, and your hand lurches into Zayne’s hair to force him closer.

“No pulling. Behave,” Zayne warns. “This is still meant to be discipline for your earlier stunt on the road.”

Whimpering, you nod, parted lips swollen and shiny from the abuse Zayne put them under with his fingers. Satisfied, Zayne finally gives you what you need, kissing the swollen flesh of your clit directly before curling two fingers into your aching cunt.

“Zayne-”

He’s addicted to the way you say his name. He’s addicted, and he’s going to come in his pants if you don’t stop.

You begin begging again before Zayne covers your mouth with the palm of his hand, muffled cries still enough to drive him insane as he focuses on getting you past that high.

Despite his threats, you can’t help but tug at Zayne’s hair, needing him against you as your hips began moving or their own accord, bucking and grinding senselessly against his face until you were practically riding his tongue. Chest heaving, you looked up to see him staring directly at you, silhouetted from the car window, green eyes nearly aglow with wretched desire.

Just like that, you’re coming, hard, thighs clenching down around Zayne’s head until he’s certain you’re trying to kill him. But gods, he never wants you to stop.

Addicted, Zayne presses open mouthed kisses to your cunt, swallowing everything you give him as his eyes roll back.

Desperate, you try to crawl away from him, but there’s nowhere to go. Your head hits the car door before Zayne drags you right back, forcing your hips up higher as your back is arched into the air, nearly perpendicular as you sob, legs kicking over his shoulders.

But still, Zayne continues, and he knows. He feels it the moment your thighs lock up, the way your stomach goes tight and the way your senseless pleading still muffled by his palm reaches a higher pitch. And he takes advantage, not letting up as he curls his fingers until your cunt clenches down on his digits and tongue, squirting into his mouth.

Almost in apology, Zayne finally withdraws his fingers as he opts to instead clean you directly with his tongue, nose accidentally overstimulating your swollen clit as you weakly fight to push his head away.

Zayne takes the hint this time, lowering your sore legs onto the seats below, finally set on a solid surface after being held in the air for so long. The slit of your dress is askew across your stomach instead of thigh, and Zayne gently tugs it back into place.

Leaning down, he picks up your forgotten heel before slipping it back into your foot, buckling it as you shiver every time his fingers brush your ankle.

When Zayne finally faces you again, the lower half of his face is a complete mess, and you should be mortified never having squirted before let alone on your mentor’s face.

But Zayne merely wipes the back of his hand across his mouth, smiling like the slick dripping down his chin was won in victory and not debauchery. “Well then, shall we?”

#love and deepspace #love and deepspace fanfiction #love and deepspace x reader #lnd zayne #lads zayne #zayne x you #zayne x reader #zayne love and deepspace #lnds smut #l&ds smut #love and deepspace smut #lads x reader #love and deepspace zayne

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the-travelling-witch · 8 months

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𝐓𝐖𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐒

summary: having your period is already stressful enough and being in a magical all-boys school doesn't make it any better; luckily, your boyfriend is here to help

pairings: leona :: jade :: jamil x gn!reader

warnings: period comfort; mentions of periods and different symptoms (but gn pronouns), mentions of reader having hair in jade's part

twisted wonderland masterlist || similar writing: bloody hell [obey me]

𝐋𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐀 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐀𝐑

It was decidedly too early for this.

You rubbed the sleep from your eyes as you walked through the hallways, head down to keep from making eye contact with the beastmen staring at you as you passed them. After tossing and turning all night, kept from finding sleep by painful cramps, being ogled at by students at an all boys school that could smell the blood on you was the last thing you needed.

And it wasn’t like you hadn’t tried to avoid this. When you had realised the predicament you would inevitably find yourself in, you had downright begged Crowley to let you stay at Ramshackle. After all, a certain Ignihyde dorm leader also never attended class in person. But, really, you should have known better. As if the headmage would let his number one therapist stay home for a few days each month or as he put it, he 'couldn’t rob a precious student like yourself of the opportunity to learn'.

At least Sam was an actual help and had magically procured just the stuff you needed.

So, with heavy eyes and burning cheeks you speed walked towards your first class of the day, dodging students at the last second on more than one occasion until you eventually ran straight into a sturdy chest. Looking up briefly to apologise, you blinked at the familiar emerald eyes sizing you up.

“Leona! What are you doing here?” Most people’s first reaction to seeing their boyfriend would probably not be bewilderment, but running into your boyfriend inside the school during class hours was as likely as Ace making it through a week without being collared by his housewarden.

“That’s funny, ‘cause I was about to ask you the same thing,” the lion drawled, ears flicking to help convey the incredulousness painted on his face. “So, what do you think you’re doing?”

As imposing as he was with his athletic build and the unimpressed expression, causing the students around you to serve around the two of you, you weren’t affected at all, used to his grumpy exterior.

“Uhm, going to class?” You deadpanned, putting your hand on your hip to mirror his stance. “Unlike someone else I know.”

“Yeah, you’re not doing that,” Leona stated matter of factly.

“Excuse you?” When he tried pulling you along by your arm, away from the direction of your classroom, you dug your heels into the ground. “I hate to sound like a broken record but what are you doing, Leona?”

“Making you get some rest, obviously.” You couldn’t see it from where you stood but you could practically hear the way he rolled his eyes.

“Listen I can’t just skip class, I talked to the headmage–”

“Crowley can solve his own problems for a day,” his voice rumbled low in his throat, almost sounding like a growl, “you know, like an actual adult. And don’t try to play dumb with me herbivore, it’s not a good look on you. I know you sleep like shit when you get your period and I also know that the people around you don’t take your health into account when they get up to some stupid idea.”

“Yeah but-”

You saw the annoyed flick of his tail before he turned around and braced his hands on your shoulders without ever applying any pressure. By now the last bell had rang and the corridor was deserted, leaving you to be the only people standing in the early morning light.

“Don’t give me this self-sacrificial nonsense,” Leona said, words harsh but you knew him well enough to read the protective feeling behind them. “We both know you need to rest. What good would it really do you to go to class in this state?”

As if to agree with him, a nasty cramp pulled at your lower stomach and the ill suppressed grimace on your face must have been all too apparent to your boyfriend. Giving your arm another light tug, Leona coaxed you towards the Hall of Mirrors again with a tempting ‘C’mon’ and this time you let him pull you along willingly, even handing him your backpack when he reached out for it.

Sometimes, it was hard to forget the kind of culture Leona grew up in, one where women held a high position of power in general, so really you shouldn’t be surprised by how… normal he was about all of this. Part of that was probably also because it was a very gentlemanly excuse to skip class in favour of a nap, if you were honest.

“If you’re that worried about missing class, Jack can give you his notes.” His offhand comment made you snort. Of course, he would offer someone else’s service to you before anything else.

“Or my third-year boyfriend could tutor me,” you teased, a playful lilt swinging in your voice.

“Oh, I don’t know about that,” the lion shrugged. “Weren’t you just on my case about my attendance record?”

“Because the first-year curriculum is just too hard for someone who can turn an entire stadium into dust,” you jabbed.

“You’re yapping a lot for someone who’s this tired,” Leona grumbled, a large palm pushing your head down, careful not to hurt you. With a giggle you decided to drop the topic.

Crossing the Hall of Mirrors and stepping through the Savanclaw portal, you were greeted by the warm breeze of dry air typical for the dorm’s daytime. After the trek through the savanna past the spring in the common room and across the wooden bridges, you reached Leona’s room and you could already feel the tension seep from your body as you stepped into its comfortable familiarity.

When you unbuttoned your uniform’s blazer, you caught a glimpse of your stomach through your shirt, slightly extended further than usual due to the bloating. And rationally you knew it was a normal bodily reaction to your period but paired with the new bumps on your face and general exhaustion, logic wasn’t quite enough to calm your mind.

The clothes being plopped down on your head, however, certainly did rip you from your thoughts. Lifting the ends of the black material covering your eyes you threw your boyfriend a questioning glare.

“I can tell you’re thinking something stupid,” Leona offered as an explanation. “Just get changed and come to bed.”

Huffing under your breath, you stepped into his ensuite bathroom to do as he said, pulling on your boyfriend’s shirt and sweatpants. While you didn’t feel like agreeing with him quite yet, you had to admit, royal loungewear was a league of its own in comfort. And probably in price.

When you emerged, Leona had just tossed his phone on the nightstand before devoting all his attention to you. The ears on his head flicked as his gaze wandered from your head to toe and back up, a grin tugging at his lips and an appreciative glint in his green eyes.

Then, the second you came within reach, he’d already wrapped you in his strong arms and pulled you into bed with him, not without a surprised squeal from you. You could feel his deep chuckle as much as you heard it with your head resting on his chest and resigned yourself to merely sighing fondly.

With two firm hands stroking up and down the length of your back purposefully, their warmth spreading through your body, and his chest rising rhythmically underneath you, you finally allowed yourself to relax as you traced random patterns onto his biceps and pectorals and followed the movement with heavy-lidded eyes.

“You weren’t seriously looking down on yourself earlier, were you?” Leona mumbled, a serious care in his words he didn’t offer many people.

“Well, you can’t really help it when your body goes through this many changes, can you?” you drowsily replied, your eyes already falling closed with no conscious work of your own. “Besides, periods are not the time you feel generally great about yourself.”

“No matter how you might see yourself, I don’t want you to doubt for even a second that I like you the way you are.” At his heartfelt confession, you peeked one eye open to study his expression.

“You can be quite the romantic if you want to huh?” You meekly chuckled, not able to help yourself.

“Go to sleep, herbivore, you’re talking crazy.” Even as he put one of his hands on the back of your head to keep you cradled against him, you didn’t miss how his ears flicked or the fondness with which he looked down on you.

“Alright, alright. I appreciate it though, really.” With a big yawn you shifted to get comfortable, your cramps far from your mind as you sunk into your boyfriend’s natural warmth. “Love you.”

By the time you’d wake up, Ruggie would have dropped off lunch along with some other essential items. But for now, Leona was content to watch as your breath evened out and your chest rose and fell in the rhythm of his own, careful not to disturb you when he draped a soft blanket over you. With the rising sun peeking through the arches of his room, he truthfully answered you in a whisper.

“Love you, too.”

𝐉𝐀𝐃𝐄 𝐋𝐄𝐄𝐂𝐇

Once Jade had taken an interest in you, he would seemingly appear out of thin air in your general vicinity a lot more often than it was usual to run into a fellow student. On your way to the school store, in line at the cafeteria or when you were carrying supplies for Professor Crewel, the moray would coincidentally round a corner to lend a hand.

So it really shouldn’t have come as a surprise that, as his courting became more serious and you had become aware of what was going on, even reciprocating the sentiment, you found the sophomore waiting for you before your classes started. Your time table was well-memorised so he could greet you with a serene smile each day and walk you to your first class of the morning.

Now, as a moray eel with naturally sharp senses, it was somewhat inevitable he’d pick up on the scent of blood once your period rolled around. In contrast to beastmen who were mostly mammals in their anatomy, however, the Octatrio did not grow up on land and periods weren’t exactly a thing for merfolk. Moreover, seeing as they had only been on land for roughly two years and were attending an all-boys school, it was not a phenomenon they were likely to run into.

So, having his dear pearl approach one morning, the smell of iron heavy in the air, paired with their already soured mood and his lack of knowledge on the societal stigma around the topic, misunderstandings were bound to happen.

“I really don’t think it wise to attend class in your state,” the moray had stated after greeting you, an eyebrow raised at your stubbornness to continue with your day even at what, in his mind, must have been a grave injury.

“I’m fine, Jade, I just want to get this day over with,” you had groaned, trying to push past the tall student and drop the topic, embarrassed enough that a sizable chunk of the student body would be aware of your predicament in the first place.

But who would he be to let a person he actually cared about go on their way with a bleeding wound?

“Prefect, I must insist you seek medical aid immediately.” You remembered the uncharacteristically genuine furrow of his brows as he had blocked your path. “Please, go to the school nurse or at least let me tend to your needs. I’m certain I could be of help if you share your problem with me.”

“If you want to hear me say it so desperately,” you had huffed, “I’m on my period. Happy now?”

“Your period?” Jade had echoed with wide eyes, unknowingly speeding up the burning of your shortened fuse with his lack of knowledge. “Yes, I’m aware we are to attend class but I fail to see–”

“Very funny,” you had deadpanned, pushing past him with a cold shoulder and leaving the moray to his own confusion. “Now if you excuse me, I have better things to do than stand here and humour your feigned ignorance today.”

Yes it wasn’t your proudest moment, you’d admit that. And when Jade approached you later that day with a genuine apology, explaining how he had researched the topic and was deeply ashamed of his uninformed remarks, you felt like the worst person on the planet and apologised more than he had. So in the end, you came to an apology truce, where you noted he shouldn’t have prodded further when you didn’t want to talk about it and you shouldn’t have exploded on him like you did.

Since the incident, however, Jade had been a dream to have around. Not to fall short again, he had done a fair amount of research, both on the biological aspect of what was happening to your body but also on the lived experience and its numerous complications. Then, doing what he did best, he observed your reactions, moods and symptoms to better cater to you specifically.

Every month he put both his cooking and alchemy skills to good use, whipping up whatever meal you desired and brewing a painkilling potion with just the right dosage for your current situation. Being Jade Leech, he could also assert his presence in any given situation with as little as a simple glare if you did not want to be bothered.

Your favourite part of the comfortable rhythm you two had fallen in, however, were the evenings where Grim was otherwise engaged and you had Ramshackle to yourselves. On those nights, soft music and fond laughter would mix with hushed whispers spilling from under your bathroom door.

A few months prior, Azul and Jade had sat down for a ‘pleasant chat’ with the Headmaster concerning the state of Ramshackle dorm and soon thereafter, funding had been provided to remodel vital parts of the dorm. No more caved-in roofs or stairs giving away under people’s shoes. Together with the money from the VDC, the old house had finally started feeling like an actual home; one you felt welcome and comfortable in.

It also meant you finally trusted your new bathtub enough to sit in it and actually also relax without any anxieties of whatever you could possibly contract from the exposure.

With his natural fondness of water, it hadn’t taken long for Jade to propose the idea of shared baths and you hadn’t regretted your decision to agree since. It wasn’t like he gave you any reason to either; it was the opposite, really. It didn’t take the moray long at all to figure out the perfect temperature or what fragrance you preferred, if any.

He also never made you feel inadequate or like you had to be ashamed of yourself, even when your body went through change throughout your cycle. Your skin tingled from his featherlight touches where his fingers traced your curves, never hiding the fact that he appreciated what he saw but always pairing it with a reverence that made you feel loved and desired, rather than ogled at. So when you sank into the water after him, cosying into his space to lean back against his chest, it was like sinking into a warm, secure embrace.

The water helped soothe your aches and washed away the tension which had built over the day and the easily flowing conversation with Jade let you focus on anything other than the thoughts in your mind, listening to his rich voice rather than the doubts trying to crawl to the surface.

When his hands massaged the shampoo into your hair, you always teetered on the edge of falling asleep right then and there. The atmosphere paired with his skilled fingers applying just the right amount of pressure as his nails gently scraped over your scalp banished any headaches you could have had and had you practically melting against him, a sight that tugged on his heartstrings more than it should have. But to see you put so much trust in him, someone who wasn’t exactly known for his benevolence, it stirred something fond in his heart and it made him want to work harder so you would keep showing him this blissful expression.

After scrubbing your bodies down, paying special attention to any sore spots, he helped you out of the tub, never failing to comment on how wrinkly your hands had gotten in comparison to his, which didn’t seem to be affected by the water exposure at all. Wrapping you up in a fluffy black towel he claimed was from Octavinelle -though you were fairly certain you’d only ever seen pale lilac ones there- he padded you dry and helped you into your clothes, mindful of the routines and products you had shown him previously.

Needless to say, you felt like a new person each time without fail as you lay snuggled up with your boyfriend in bed later on, listening to his breathing and the steady beating of his heart.

“Thank you so much for always doing this much for me, Jade,” you said, earnest gratitude and unspoken adoration lining your voice. “I’m really lucky to be with you, huh?”

“On the contrary, I am the one luck seems to favour seeing how you chose to be with me,” he chuckled and you didn’t miss how his strong arms pulled you closer against him even if it wasn’t physically possible. He’d be damned if he didn’t try. “And you needn’t feel conflicted about receiving my affection. Just know I enjoy doing these things for you and with you, pearl.”

“I stand by my earlier statement,” you smiled, making him laugh along with you. Looking into his heterochromic eyes, you traced the contours of his face with the same delicacy he showed you earlier. “Is it selfish to say that I feel happy about having this side of you all to myself?”

“Not at all. It is reserved for you only, dearest.” His gaze was heavy on yours as he loosely curled his fingers around your wrist and pressed a searing kiss against your palm. “After all, I do not intend to share this side of you with anyone else either.”

𝐉𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐋 𝐕𝐈𝐏𝐄𝐑

There have certainly been times where Jamil lamented having to basically babysit his dorm leader. Well, pretty much all the time. But being unable to stay by your side while you were hurting was generally one of the most annoying parts of his duties to him, especially with the daily workload of being a student on top of it all.

Jamil being Jamil, however, he soon worked out a schedule consistent enough to let him visit you somewhat frequently.

You were lying on one of Ramshackle’s rickety couches, nursing your lower stomach with a -at this point already lukewarm- water bottle, when a familiar knocking pattern brought a smile to your face.

“Come in! It’s open,” you shouted across the hall, adding your sarcastic comment under your breath in order not to worry your boyfriend more than he already was. “Not like the lock’s ever doing its job in this place.”

“Hm? Did you say something?” Jamil made his way straight over to where you were sitting, his footsteps quieting down as he reached the carpeted floor.

“No,” you shook your head, smiling up at him as he leant over the back of the couch. Ignoring his raised eyebrow, you reached up, so you could cradle his cheek as you sat up to meet him for a sweet kiss. “I missed you.”

“I missed you, too.” Seemingly appeased, your boyfriend mirrored your fond expression, tracing your face with his grey gaze while his hands moved to your shoulders, deft fingers working out any tension you might be having. “How are you feeling?”

“A lot better now that you’re here,” you laughed, though it wasn’t merely a sappy joke, as indicated by Jamil’s scoff behind you. “I mean it though. I’ve been feeling a lot better since I’ve been receiving your royal treatment.”

“It’s nothing that fancy,” Jamil assured, his eyes softening at the way you melted into his touch. “I’m just trying to take care of you.”

“I know you don’t think much of it but I really appreciate you taking time out of your busy schedule to look after me when I’m not even facing anything out of the ordinary,” you sighed, rehashing points you had raised in vain before.

“Oh hush,” your boyfriend playfully shushed you the way he had also done many times already when the topic came up. “Compared to what I usually deal with, this is like taking a vacation, especially since I get to spend time with you. Now speaking of my normal chores, I brought some leftover food.”

“Have I told you that I love you?” You swooned, causing both of you to laugh as Jamil headed over to your kitchen, one he was already familiar with. Not only because he often came over for some much needed peace and quiet but because Kalim was literally the reason you had it in the first place. A relationship-warming-gift of sorts for a relationship that wasn’t even his.

Besides, ever since courting and dating you, Jamil’s measuring skills when it came to meal prep seemed to have worsened because -coincidentally- he’d ended up with too much food and subsequent leftovers so often, you wondered why you even stocked your own fridge anymore.

What you had also noticed though was that, whenever you were on your period -something he seemed to track himself-, the food he brought over was a lot less spicy than usual and rather light. Something someone prone to a sensitive stomach, nausea, reduced appetite or a disturbed metabolism could still comfortably eat.

The phenomenon of suddenly appearing sticky notes had also made itself known, labelling new containers in your fridge, medication on the counter or your coffee machine with reminders like ‘Remember caffeine makes your cramps worse’ written on it in neat handwriting.

One or the other bar of dark chocolate and some of your favourite snacks had mysteriously found their way into your bags or onto a bowl in your kitchen as well though, making you smile at Jamil’s thoughtfulness when you caught a peek of them.

During the day, whenever his schedule allowed it, he’d also drop by to check in on you between classes or during lunch, something Kalim wholeheartedly supported. Normally, Jamil refused all of Kalim’s offers to take a break from his duty but when you were feeling under the weather, he took the white-haired student up on it when no imminent disaster was on the horizon waiting to happen.

When your plate was empty and made its trip to the sink, Jamil refilled your hot water bottle but unlike you earlier, he waved his magic pen over it, which you had realised significantly expanded the time in which the water actually stayed hot.

“Thank you,” you said for possibly the millionth time as you took the bottle from him, then gave him a mischievous grin. “You know what would make me feel soo much better though?”

At the tilt of his head, you scooted over to make space between you and the back of the couch. Getting the hint, Jamil settled in behind you and you got comfy again with your back to his chest. This too had become somewhat of a ritual of yours, one that wasn’t limited to while you were suffering from cramps.

After all the chore-y part of the late afternoon was taken care of, you liked to spend the evening snuggled up on your couch with the TV playing some show you liked to watch together, read: a show which you started and dragged Jamil into. Well, every now and then your boyfriend also made sure you didn’t fall behind on your studies, though he was more lenient when you were on your period.

“This is nice,” you mumbled, your eyelids heavy now that you had eaten and were surrounded by warmth and your loving boyfriend, whose hands stroked along your sides in a soothing, continuous motion, his chest vibrating underneath you with his affirming hum.

“I could stay like that forever,” he agreed.

“Well I certainly wouldn’t mind.”

“I’m sure you wouldn’t.” The smile in his voice was auditory even if you couldn’t see his gorgeous face. You could, however, feel his soft lips on the crown of your head and his breath fanning over it and you reached to intertwine one of your hands with his before a yawn you couldn’t suppress any longer filled the air. “You should get some rest, I’m sure you’re tired.”

“But I wanna stay with you longer,” you protested, sleep clouding your tone.

“Don’t worry, I will be here when you wake up,” Jamil promised. And with that you drifted off, the warmth from around you settling cosily around your heart. A heart that wasn’t really yours alone anymore.

if you like my content, reblogs, comments and asks are always much appreciated ♡

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twisted wonderland: @savanaclaw1996 @honehbee42

#┊holly’s potions ೃ༄#twisted wonderland #x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #twisted wonderland comfort #twst comfort #twisted wonderland fluff #twst fluff #leona x reader #leona fluff #leona kingscholar #jade x reader #jade fluff #jade leech #jamil x reader #jamil fluff #jamil viper #disney twisted wonderland

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radiance1 · 7 months

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Another link to this post. Meet the parents style.

So, Danny and Jason have been fake dating for a while now, and ended up marrying each other solely for tax benefits. Also, they got cool ass fucking friendship rings that they just couldn't not wear everywhere and being married is convenient so...

Anywho, so Jason has met Danny's parents but Danny hasn't met Jason's parents. Danny knows that he has some ties with the vigilantee scene due to being a Crime Lord-he still doesn't know what to think of his parents connecting the dots immediately when they only met him once while it took him more than that while living with the guy.

He thinks Jason may have been an ex-vigilantee at some point before turning to crime.

Then Danny gets blinded by rich people aura when he finds out that his bestfriend is the long thought dead child of Bruce Wayne. Frankly, he's insulted.

You mean to tell him that his could've been buying ice cream from that high class place all this time!? He shook (literally he grabbed and shook him) that point into Jason, he doesn't care that Jason never told him he was rich but he could've at least bought some high class ice cream once in a while.

Jason who was busy solidifying his power as a crime lord, avoiding his family and making sure not to leak his identity at all: I'm a literal crime lord, and the only thing you care about is me not buying you ice cream?

Danny: YES!!!!

Jason: Dork.

Right anyways, so Jason takes Danny along to meet Bruce and his fam but did say as soon as he started being uncomfortable they're leaving. The batfam is a bit blindsided by Danny, because they thought Jason was bringing his partner but its good to also get a feel for Danny's personality.

Danny and Jason did what's normal for them when Danny starts getting comfortable around the manor full of things that cost waaay more than his rent. Like half-heartedly insulting each other, being snarky, leaning on each other and other such things.

The batfam start thinking that there's more there than they know of. So they start watching a bit closer and ask a few round about questions that fly over Danny and Jason's heads. They just forget they're married often, unless it's regarding taxes.

All of this sends the wrong message when they walk into the same room and, being nosy, one of the batfam comes up to the door and uh. They hear the bed moving quite a lot.

So.

Meanwhile, Jason is trying to wrestle with Danny because this man does not pick a lane. He'll either be the human octopus (who is cold as hell) Jason has ever seen, he'll try to kick him off the bed in his sleep as if Jason personally offended him in some way, or he'll sleep in some wacky position that interrupts Jason's sleep. The last one is tied to the other two, however.

So, Jason has to frequently wrestle this man into a proper position where they both manage to get some sleep and it wouldn't have been so bad if Danny wasn't a goddamn sleep fighter. He would know, he had to nurse a bruised jaw for a few weeks.

Why do they sleep together? Listen, when you're in an apartment with not a lot of money, you gotta cut costs where you can alright?

#dc x dp #dp x dc #dpxdc #dp x dc crossover #dcxdp #dc x dp crossover #Danny and Jason are platonically married #I'm not gonna put this in the post but I had a random thought of Jack and Maddie meeting Bruce Wayne and they instantly clock him as Batman #It's not even Maddie #Jack just took one look at him and sniffed out something sus until his himbo brain connects the dots to him being Batman #The thing is they managed to find this out with barely any evidence so they think they might be wrong without knowing that they're actually #right #Anyways #Jason is tired of this mfer Danny and how he sleeps #Every time they go to bed Jason walks into their shared bedroom like he's about to wrestle a fucking bear #The batfam think they be fawking but they actually aren't it's just Jason wrestling to get a good night's sleep #Why did I make this?#I have no clue

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simpee9000 · 22 days

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Not Just Friends - 10 -

M.List : Prologue : Part 1 : Part 2 : Part 3 : Part 4 : Part 5 : Part 6 : Part 7 : Part 8 : Part 9 : Words 3.1k

Childhood best friends turned into something more, at least with the label. Katsuki Bakugo, a fast-rising hero and fast-learning guy who is ever so slow in getting attached to and loving someone. Even three long years into a relationship, and your friends even forget you're even dating. Nothing happening, spare a few kisses.. like 3 kisses, during high school. Graduated and living together, and you guys have done absolutely nothing to further the relationship. Are you sure you're not just friends? Also not edited!! CW: Smut, brief domestic violence discussion, virginity loss, aggressive flirting from creeps, gore with pro hero stuff (lmk if i missed any) Applies to all chapters regardless of it is in said chapter.

It was a turn back to normal after the long conversation between the two of you. Tears sliding down your faces, majority yours but you saw a couple fall from his. It was a necessary conversation. He opened up about his quirk and apologized for ditching you. You apologize for the same.

Easily enough, the two of you moved on from it quickly. Talking about the past two months when all the overwhelming emotions passed. You blabbed about how many new offers you were getting and he talked about how he was hiring more and more people to his agency.

Despite not being able to ignore the last two months, it was easy to move past.

Growing past it within the night, having everything off your chest. It still didn't make things go back to normal.

You continued to share a bed, but changed your schedules around again to see more of each other. Flipping back into your old routine as much as possible. Not without a few changes though. Lunches would only be once a week rather than daily, and you'd be working for another hour or two after he got home. Since you wanted to sleep in still.

But it still improved your relationship again. Building it back up slowly. You were able to eat a late dinner together each night and share an off day. Sharing your off day made it easier for you anyway. After the break-in it was hard to be home without him, so the last two months were rough. Your therapist said you were doing great though, so that helped.

The first days of going back to normal was rough, having to adjust to seeing each other daily again. Conversations between the two of you felt awkward, mainly on your side. You grew so much in those two months, no longer relying on him. It shifted the dynamic.

"Y'good?" Katsuki's gruff voice broke your train of thought. Your eyes flickered up to him.

"Huh?"

"Been fuckin' playin' with your food," he points his fork at your plate, "Don't like it or some shit?"

"No, I like it," you looked back down. It was definitely not your favorite meal he made, but it was good.

His silverware claddered roughly against his plate, his arms crossing, "The fuck has been wrong with you?"

"Do you have to swear with every sentence?" you avoided, taking a bite of your food instead.

You could feel him roll his eyes along with his heavy sigh, "You've been off since."

"A relationship doesn't heal just like that," you pointed out.

"Will you look at me?" he asked annoyed. A glance up at his expression made you cut your attitude. He was trying, that much was obvious. And after all your talk of communication, you were doing nothing.

"Sorry," you set your fork down, engaging in the conversation, "I'm just lost? I guess. Hard to place it. I've changed a lot in the past two months-"

"How?"

You glared at him for interrupting you. "I've stopped prioritizing you. I'm more focused on myself now. It's hard to go back to normal when the 'normal,' was me running circles around you."

He shuffled in his seat, "That's fine. I'm glad you've moved on in that sense, done you good."

"You're not worried how it'll change us?" you asked softly, it's been all you were thinking of for the past few weeks.

"I'm always fuckin' worried," he admitted, eyes drifting to look at the wall instead of you, "But we'll work it out."

You were glad he still viewed the two of you as a 'we,' heart melting slightly as you reached your hand across the table. "I'm not going to tip-toe around you anymore, Kats."

"Good," he gruffed out, uncrossing his arms and grabbing onto your hand. Changing his focus onto that, "I don't want you to."

"Good," you agreed, smiling at how he let his thumb trace over your knuckles.

"You, um," he fumbled for a minute, eyebrows furrowing, "You're still okay with us not doing shit right?"

"I'd never push that," you confirmed, shocked he even thought you would complain about that.

"Don't get me wrong, I would, just-" he pulled his hands back wiping them on his pants before running them down his face, "my dumb fuckin' quirk."

"You love your quirk," you pointed out.

"Yeah and I'd fuckin' love to touch my girlfriend but no, I gotta be a horny virgin 'cause of it," he groaned, crossing his arms again.

Stifling a laugh was difficult, but you managed, "Maybe we can just work up to it? Get you used to the baseline first before, that."

His quirk went off suddenly, "Can't even fuckin' think of it," he groaned, standing up to go wash his hands off.

"It's cute." You followed behind him to place dishes in the skin, having cleared your plates a while ago.

"Fuck you."

"Hey," you laughed, "At least you can tell Denki and Sero that you beat them at No Nut November. And have for the past 19 years."

He shot you a glare from the sink, "The one challenge I wouldn't want to beat, great."

"It's what makes you number one to me, baby," you teased, kissing his shoulder as you moved past him, wanting to pester him while the mood was light and he was already flustered. It was nice how easy it was to move past something with him. But you wanted to test how much he'd react to you not tiptoeing around him anymore.

With success, his quirk popped off again.

"Fuck off."

You let out a crackle of laughter, "You're too easy."

"Die."

He finally stopped washing his hands, turning to dry them off. You watched from the counter, plotting. "Your back looks nice," you commented, his muscles have been more defined lately and you only got to appreciate it now. His tank top showcases his shoulders nicely.

He froze for a moment, side-eyeing you. "Do you want to get blown up or something?"

"No, do you want to get blown?" you asked back, letting Denki's crude humor influence you.

Like a charm, his quirk sparked off. "Quit it."

"Nah, it's too much fun," you smiled at him, kicking off the counter you were leaning on and moving to leave the kitchen. Hand squeezing his bicep when you walked by.

He didn't let you get even a step away before he grabbed your hand and pulled you into him. His hands grabbing at your hips and moving to push you into the counter. "Where do y'think you're goin'?" he smirked down at you.

Your face bloomed a deep shade, blushing harshly at how close he was. He hasn't been that close since you argued two months ago.

"Nothin' to say?"

You blinked up at him, trying to steady the rapid beating of your heart with the way he was tracing circles onto your hips.

"Might like you but that doesn't mean I'll let you say shit and get away with it," he crowded you closer to the counter.

"What happened to your quirk?" you whispered, losing your voice at the proximity.

"You offered to work up to it, right?" he brushed his hands clean on his shirt briefly before going back to your hips.

"Yeah," you looked down at his hands, trying to make sure the watch was off.

"It's off," he confirmed, twisting his wrist so you could see. When you looked back up at him, he held his gaze deeply, "What happened to that smart mouth?"

"Want me to show you?" you placed your hands on his chest, running over the span of his shoulders. Your body was on fire, the two of you flirted, sure, but this was different. His quirk was fully there. He was fully there.

His eyes lidded slightly, zeroing in his focus on your lips, "Fuck yeah I do."

Your lips closed the gap between the two of you. It wasn't as soft and nervous as all the past kisses, it was something you just threw yourself in. Stomach crazy with butterflies as your mind started buzzing. His hands tightened their grip on your hips as he stepped even closer to you.

Bodies curled into each other to get closer. Your hands digging into the hair at the base of his neck as you deepened the kiss. Full of passion and sexual tension. There was hardly any innocence to the kiss, and if there was, it faded within seconds.

A sigh of relief falling from your lips when his hands slipped under your shirt, brushing over your skin roughly. Fingers being callused and dry from work.

As soon as his hands met your skin he pulled away frantically. Pulling his body from yours completely before his quirk started popping off.

"Fuck me," he groaned in frustration, grabbing a dish towel and wiping his hands off.

"I wish I could," you teased.

He shot you a glare, blush flaring all over his face and coating his neck with a red. "Stop," he grumbled.

"Stop what?"

"Stop looking at me like that," he shied away, washing his hands in water for a moment.

You paused for a moment, considering how you looked. With how flushed his face was you could tell you were no better. Lips plumped and freshly kissed red as your shirt was ruffled up from his hands as you leaned back into the counter. "Why would I? You clearly like what you see?"

The confidence within you came from nowhere. There has been sexual tension between the two of you before, many times before. Even before he had the watch. But normally you had to be drunk as hell to make such obvious jokes towards him, especially ones about sex. Maybe it was the fact that it was on the table, when before it wasn't. You knew he wanted it as much as you did.

"Fuck off," he grumbled.

"Come on, Kats," you pushed your luck.

"I love you, but please stop whatever the fuck you're doing before we need a new apartment," he spoke without thought, freezing the second he realized what he said.

You barked out a laugh, he spoke so plainly. You didn't want him to get wrapped up in his head, so you ignored the rushing butterflies over his admissions. "Fine, fine," you gave in, smiling happily at him, "Hug?"

He looked at you, untrusting of you before he opened his arms, gesturing you near.

Taking the moment, you threw yourself in his arms. Wrapping your arms around his waist he pulled you in fully. Letting you rest your head on his chest as he rested his on yours.

Everything felt secure in your relationship, you'd move one step at a time together. With a lot of teasing between, but that was common between you and him, despite the lack of it lately.

"I love you too, by the way," you mumbled into his chest, having a happy feeling travel through your body at the small number of times he's actually said it.

"I know."

You moved slightly to look up at him, his eyes fell on yours before you spoke, "Are you hard?"

He glared sharply, embarrassment covering his features as you felt him grow hot. You were going to ignore the feeling of him pressing into your lower stomach, but decided you wanted the chance to rub it in his face that you have the upper hand here. He tried to pull away, only for you to keep your grip.

"Stop," he warned, his hands raised away from you.

"It's only a little spark, Kats," you tried to comfort.

With a roll of his eyes he smiled evilly down at you, "You asked for it," before you could protest, he wiped his sweaty hands on your face before rubbing the rest of it off on your sweater, down your chest.

"Katsuki! That's gross," you pulled away from him, using your sleeve to wipe away the damp residue of his sweat off your cheek before you pulled the bottom of your shirt out, seeing if he got sweat marks on it. "You just used that as an excuse to touch my tits," you glared at him, seeing the faint marks of his handprint on your shirt, right over your tits. It surprised you that he sweat enough to leave a mark.

He laughed sharply, walking out of the kitchen, "Got no proof, Brains."

"I literally have the proof of your hands on my tits," you called out to him.

He looked over you, "How do I know those are mine?"

"Really? Cause I'd let a random guy grope me and he'd be sweaty enough to leave a mark like you do," you snarked.

"No way to know," he shrugged.

"You're such an ass," you groaned.

His phone buzzing loudly cut off his laughter.

"This late?" you asked as you eyed his work phone.

"It's PR," he said as he furrowed his brows, answering the phone, "Dynamight."

You heard mumbling for a moment before he huffed and put his phone on speaker. "Can she hear me now?" the lady's voice rang through, the same manager you've spoken with before.

"Hello," you answered for him, "What can I do?"

"You've done quite enough," she spoke abruptly. It took a lot to get her mad, so to have pissed her off five words was a record. "People are spreading pictures of you crying in the middle of the street."

Katsuki's eyes shot to you, concerned.

"They also claim to of heard you talking to Deku, saying you said his name several times."

His concerned look turned to a glare quickly.

"I can explain that," you said quickly before Katsuki added his two cents, "I was having a rough time and decided to call a friend, simple."

She laughed, "It's not the simple. It was the night of your party. And with the lack of social outings between Dynamight and you, people are saying the two of you broken up."

"Why does this matter?" you asked annoyed. It was still a sore subject.

"It matters because bad things are being said about the two of you. It's not just Dynamight's image anymore, but yours too. They're saying he's abusive while also saying that you're sleeping your way to the top."

You've heard that said too many times to count. Both things. So filled with anger, you grabbed the phone from Katsuki's hand and hung up.

"The fuck?"

"I don't know! I'm annoyed," you huffed, tossing his phone onto the couch before pacing, "I'm sick of people talking."

"I get it's annoying but you're gonna hear it-"

"Not helping," you glared at him.

"PR helps get them to knock it off," he pushed.

"She hardly says anything but the obvious," you rolled your eyes, "We can just post a picture of us or something."

"How does that prove I don't hit you?"

You paused your pacing, "Under a truth quirk I said the worst thing about you was your socks. I think if you abused me I would have said that."

He gave up his fight with a shrug, moving to sit on the couch instead.

"Don't get me wrong, it pisses me off that they say that. There is just no way to prove otherwise. Nothing is ever enough for them," you corrected, not wanting him to get the idea that you were only concerned for yourself.

"If you think that, why are you so pissed right now?" he crossed his arms.

You shook your eyes off the flex of his arms, throwing your hands up in frustration, "Because everyone says that, I hate hearing it."

"What do you mean?"

"Everyone thinks you hit me or some bullshit," you huff.

"Everyone?"

"Like people that don't know you," you changed, "you're a softy and they ignore it.

"Who you callin soft?" he sat up straight.

You smiled at him, "Kats, you can't even look mad at me."

He glared at you, eyebrows being the only thing supporting it. His eyes were soft. "Die."

"Let's just forget about it," you sighed, not wanting to talk about the press or your relationship. Nothing stressful.

"Why were you even cryin' to Deku?"

"You," you admitted shamefully, looking away. Talking about this would be stressful.

When he said nothing, you turned back to him. He was staring out the window. The view was filled with city lights.

"I only called him 'cause I couldn't call you," you comforted, stepping closer to him.

"Could always call me," he spoke softly.

"Kats," at this point you were standing right in front of him

"Yeah?"

You swallowed quickly, "We don't need to do everything together."

He took a deep breath, "I know, just want you to know you can call me, no matter what."

"I already know that," you smiled fondly at him. It was one of the best things about him. No matter how mad he was at a friend or family, he would never ignore them if they needed anything, even a random call. He might ignore a stupid text, but he never missed a call from someone close to him.

"Good."

"Maybe," he looked up at you, "We don't do anything publically? If they think I'm dating you then good, if they think I'm not, I don't care."

"If you want," he shrugged.

"You don't mind?" you step closer to him, him making space for you by manspreading further.

"Not really, just don't go making 'em think you're dating that damn nerd."

"Okay."

"Want somethin'?" he looked at you with a brow up. His eyes flickering from your chest to your face.

"Seems like you do," you smiled, inviting yourself more into his personal space by straddling him, both knees by his side.

"What are you doing?" his hands were pushed outwards, far from you.

"It's fine," you hushed him, sitting your weight on his lap.

"We didn't even do this stuff with the watch," he hissed at you, face flushed.

"Yes we did," you looked at him confused, "I made you cum y-"

"Shut it," he huffed, hands popping with the sound of his quirk, "Get off."

"Look, if you really want to, I will, but I don't think you want me to," you didn't want to force him into anything.

"What even put you in this mood?" he glared at you.

"You looked at my tits," you shrugged.

"Cause you still have my handprint on em," he smirked proudly.

You looked down at them quickly, "Bakugo."

"What? It's how it should be."

"Will it stain?"

"Shouldn't."

"I hate you," you glared at him.

"Sure, cause one glance at your tits makes you wanna jump me, cause you hate me," he was too cocky.

"Shut up you can hardly kiss me without losing your mind," you fought back.

"Kissed ya earlier didn't I?"

"Barely, come on, kiss me like a man-"

Forgetting his prior reluctance, he pulled you into him. Connecting your lips in a messy kiss as his hand held you to him by the back of your neck. Slowly losing its grip before sliding down to your waist. Losing himself into the kiss just as you were.

You were shocked he was even kissing you, cherishing the win regardless. Moving more onto him. Wrapping your arms around him, scratching at his scalp as you pulled on his hair.

The groan that left his lips encouraged you to push down more in his lap, wanting something more. You could never get enough of him. Anything he'd give, you'd take.

A rough push of yourself onto him caused his quirk to go off, not just a small spark either.

It singed your top, burning your skin.

You jumped off his lap once he let go, holding your sides.

His hand was placed right over your old scar.

Posted late cause I forgot to finish the chapter, and the tag list is being a bitch rn. (phone is glitching and laptop is weird) if it's fucked up mb.

---

-Next Part-

In them m.list of this fic comment if you want to be added into a tag list <3

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heavysighing-dreamyeyes · 1 month

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The Birthday Blurb

I think we all just really love Jason Todd and he definitely makes me feel things. Anyway, Happy Birthday, Jason Todd and Alfred Pennyworth! (Vaugley suggestive, as a treat) ~1.4k words

Jason doesn't care much for his birthday. You're slowly changing his opinion on that. It's not that people haven't celebrated his birthday, it's just no one's celebrated it the way you have.

He wakes up a little later than normal, and frowns when he notices your side of the bed is cold. He clambers out of your shared bed and stumbles to the kitchen.

You're there. Dressed in his shirt. It's a sight to see, probably one of his favorites, he decides when you look over your shoulder and offer him a bright smile.

"Happy birthday, Jason! I made breakfast, did you want coffee?" You ask as he walks behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and tucking his chin against your skin.

"Breakfast?" He asks, voice heavy with sleep as he presses a kiss to your neck. Breakfast is nice, but the fact that he knows he has a whole day with you is even nicer.

"Mhm," you answer idly, shifting slightly in his gasp to reach for the plates. He beats you to it, keeping you firmly against his body with one arm.

You laugh a little and thank him. Jason determines then and there that it's the best present he's ever gotten.

"C'mon," You tell him, and he lets you pull away so you both can sit and eat. The food is great. At least he thinks it is, he's a little distracted by how pretty you look this morning, every morning, to really taste the food.

He smiles blissfully at your stories, how your voice tilts when you're excited, "So, I was thinking we visit that bookstore you like? And maybe that cafe we had our second date at? Then we can head over to the manor for your party."

He hums fondly and reaches over to brush invisible strings from your shoulder, "It's just dinner. Not really a party."

You grin and lean into his touch, "It's kind of a party. Your family's gonna be there. And your friends. Roy's bringing Lian."

Jason matches your smile, "That'll be nice."

"It will," You say eagerly, and grab his plate to clean up before he can take yours.

He pouts a little, standing up to try and grab the dirty dishes, "I can do that. You cooked."

You laugh a little, teasing and avoiding his hands, "It's your birthday."

"Doesn't make me incompetent, you know," he protests, lazily following you around the kitchen.

"Sure," You agree, turning to meet him and reaching out to brush his hair out his eyes, "But it does mean I want today to be special for you."

His eyes light up, and a sly smile spreads across his face, "Every day is special with you."

You make a face and laugh, "Cheesy. I walked into that."

He laughs with you, grabbing your hand as you lead the way back to the bedroom, "You did. You know I can't help it, not when it's right in front of me."

"Yeah, yeah, you're real funny," You drawl, letting go of his hand to get dressed. He only gets you a little distracted when his hands start to trace your bare sides. But hey, it's his birthday, he figures he can be a bit selfish.

When you both finally make it out of the door of your apartment, Jason doesn't bother to hide the smug look on his face. He tucks you under his arm, admiring the marks on your throat you couldn't quite hide, "You're pretty."

"You're a menace," You answer, but even if you try to sound annoyed, your eyes look nothing but happy and playful, "we're seeing your family later. Alfred's going to be there."

He nods, eyes trailing from you to watch your surroundings as you walk to the bookstore, "Well it's not like they don't already know. Remember during that Christmas party when they walked in on us–"

"Hey!" You cut him off, embarrassment painting your face, "We agreed to never mention that."

He smiles wickedly, "Mm, I don't think I agreed to that. Besides, I thought I could do whatever I want."

"Anything besides talk about the most mortifying moment of my life," You correct and nudge his side as he pulls open the bookstore door for you.

"Fair enough," Jason chirps, content with the look on your face as you wander the shelves.

You both pick out a handful of books, he gets to kiss you, tucked behind a row of bookcases, and he doesn't think he's stopped smiling since you've settled in the chair next to him. The coffee shop is quiet, sweet smelling, and full of memories between the two of you.

He traces patterns over your thigh idly as you sip your drink, "This is where that kid dropped their cupcake all over you."

You smile, "Yeah. Ruined my nice shirt. You gave me your jacket."

He trades your drink for his, and takes a sip. He grins when you try his before trading cups back, "I was freaking out."

You raise an eyebrow at him, "You were freaking out? I was the one that had frosting everywhere."

"Yeah, but you looked sad. You were nice to the kid and said it was fine. But you looked sad and I didn't know how to make it better," he admits.

"You did make it better. You make lots of things better. Besides, it wasn't all bad, I got to wear your jacket. I didn't realize how soft they are," You say fondly, leaning a little into his side.

Jason pulls his hand from your thigh to drape his arm over your shoulder, and presses a kiss to the side of your head, "You make things better too. And I liked seeing you in my jacket."

He melts a little when you smile up at him, "Now we're both being cheesy, Jason."

"Nothin' wrong with that," he murmurs as you laugh, idly reminding him that you need to leave for Wayne Manor soon.

It takes some convincing to get you on his bike, you're worried over Alfreds present, but your helmet is on, and your arms are around his waist soon enough. Having you hold onto him while he drives down Gothams roads is another strong contender for his favorite birthday gift.

The ride ends too soon for him. But he can't complain, he thinks as he helps you off his motorcycle, there's still the ride back. And maybe you won't notice this time if he takes the long way home.

There's more people than he expected, once they're inside, and Jason thinks he masks his surprise well. It's a nice party. He watches you kiss Alfred on the cheek and hand him his present. He plays with Lian and pretends the Tamerianian pistol Kori got him isn't actually super cool and he's definitely not itching to try it out. (Yes, he sneaks you away to the batcave to shoot it. Yes, you end up making out. You dressed up and you look beautiful, sue him.)

He smiles when he blows out his candles and smiles even wider when Alfred blows out his.

You don't mention it when he takes the long way back to the apartment, only trace your thumb back and forth over his stomach. He drives a little faster when you do.

The whole day was perfect. He doesn't know how it was, his birthdays are never perfect. But as he lays down in the bed that you share at the end of the day, he realizes that he feels good. Just, he's content, happy. And it was you, and the people who love him, who made it that way.

He sighs softly, looking forward to cuddling with you and getting some well-deserved sleep. He doesn't have patrol tonight, after all.

"Jason," You call out as you step out of the bathroom. His eyes dart to you and he sits up immediately.

He breathes out your name, takes in every inch of you. You're wearing lingerie, and it's in his color. "It's that– baby," he stumbles over his words, every thought flying from his brain at the sight of lace and ribbons against your skin, "is that for me?"

You smile shyly at him, and he's over the moon, pushing off the bed to get closer to you, "Do you like?"

"I love it, I love you," he says firmly, eyes never leaving you. You giggle, echoing the words, as his heart practically sings in his chest and his hands find your waist. He knows he looks dumbfounded, and any thoughts of going to bed leave his mind.

Who needs to sleep? Not him, not when he has a few more hours of his birthday to enjoy with you. Not when he needs to make it clear, you're the greatest gift he could ever get.

#happy birthday jason todd!!#jason todd #jason todd x reader #x reader #jason todd x y/n #jason todd x you

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strwberri-milk · 4 months

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Hello! I read that your inbox was open and I'm not sure if I missed anything but how about a prompt where our 3 best boys got turned into Evol kitties for a day? Maybe the 3 boys got hit while protecting the MC from a wanderer and got turned into an Evol kitty variant of themselves and MC gotta take care of them?

I could imagine the shenanigans that would ensue and how cute they would look hanging out in their tea cups hehe

GRR i love this LMAO

Zayne is a very calm little kitty. He is mildly perturbed that he's turned into a kitten but when you quickly pick him up and tuck him away into your pocket safely he safely stays put and doesn't squirm too much to avoid accidentally falling out of your pocket. You take him home and let him get comfortable on your pillow but he seems much more intrigued in following you around. Even as a tiny little kitten he can't help but nip at your ankle as a subtle reminder to take care of yourself when he catches you falling into an unhealthy habit you've told him you've been trying to stop.

He keeps pretty lowkey, making sure to keep himself out of trouble for your sake considering how dangerous things are for him now that he's a tiny little cat. He knows that you'd worry if you couldn't see him so he makes sure to stay in your sight until he turns back, knowing that the effects will most likely be temporary.

Rafayel is dramatic. Not only is he terrified of cats but now he is one. You find him immediately as soon as you hear him practically yowling, finding him hidden amongst the debris once you get rid of the Wanderer. He crawls into your hands eagerly, nuzzling against your palms and purring now that he feels safe.

Once the two of you get back home you decide to put Rafayel in a little padded basket. You don't trust that he won't run off if he finds something interesting and putting him in said basket means you can at least feel the weight shift before he runs off. Thankfully, he decides to stay put, meowing and pawing at you insistently until you shower him attention the way you do regular cats. He'll happily play with your finger as you use your knuckle to pet his fur and tease his paws, adoring all the attention you're giving him.

Xavier is a little surprised once he realises he's shrunk down to a fraction of his size and staring down at fluffy paws. He pads around a little in confusion, trying to figure out what to do as you scoop him up in your hands. Once you've determined that he's not injured you tuck him into your pocket, the warmth of your body immediately making him fall asleep.

He stays asleep for most of the time, making your mind rest easy without worrying about him running away. You gently tease at him with your finger, cooing at how adorable he looks sleeping in the middle of your pillow. He doesn't mind at all, gently batting your finger away in his sleep and purring happily, deciding to use this time to rest.

#love and deepspace x reader #l&ds x reader #lads x reader #xavier x reader #rafayel x reader #zayne x reader #xavier love and deepspace #zayne love and deepspace #rafayel love and deepspace #lads rafayel x reader #lads xavier x reader #lads zayne x reader

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moonsaver · 1 month

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Warning; yandere, entirely ooc because idk anything ab moze other than the fact he might be an assassin.. whatever.

Moze likes watching you.

It's more curiosity than infatuation, at least at first.

Why do you like that perfume? Why do you like those colors? Why do you like certain foods and patterns? It's new to him, the way he seems to cling to your information.

He's not unfamiliar per se, but the implication is clear – he hasn't felt this sense of curiosity about anyone before. A few meager, short lines are enough before he sweeps up another mission. But he doubts he'll be satiated with even the pages worth of information he knows about you.

He ghosts you, sometimes. It's slightly.. endearing, the way you almost jump out of your skin from a small tickle or a whisper. The way your sleeping body unconsciously shivers when his rough hand trails up your bare back, goosebumps rising at the graze of his calluses on your skin, the way you stiffen when you feel someone breathe down your neck only to turn around and see no one there. The way your fingers twitch when his hand ghosts them. The slight flicker in your eyes when you think someone's whispered your name in a crowd. He sees it all.

He just needs a sure-fire way to get rid of.. obstacles. Rudimentary personalities that fill the gap between you and him. And considering his skills, it'll be no time until you're left vulnerable and grasping for any company. Perhaps he'll make sure to visit the marketplace where you'll inevitably be, succumbing to routine despite your mournful state.

He visits you, of course he does. But the risk of being discovered by you instills many feelings in him, contrasting to the indifference when his target spots him. He doesn't like the risk of being discovered – not when his diligent hands scan through your room, nor when he stalks you constantly anywhere, or when he maps out the measurements of your body. But another part of him, finds a sort of perverse pleasure in trying to imagine how you might react.. although distasteful, the idea of that burden of having to hide away his.. hobby, finally lifting from his shoulders is something he'd perhaps like. And perhaps he'd like to put his knowledge about you to good use.

Unconsciously, he even holds himself in pride when it comes to how much he knows about you. You avoid wearing that sweater because it's too stuffy, or maybe he notices the stitches of your garments come loose from how often you fidget. Maybe he sees the way you always order the same food when you have a crappy day. Maybe he notices who's been responsible for all your crappy days.

Maybe, just maybe, he notices the quirk in your step when they stop.

And he understands – slowly but surely, he's becoming a part of you in more ways than one.

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etanow · 2 months

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Do you have any showtime monster labs headcanons? 👉🏻👈🏻☺️

OH BOY DO I HEHEHEHE

Caine was the last to realize Pomni was in his residency (He was,, otherwise preoccupied), and was absolutely flabbergasted that Jax did such a thing as raising the dead. Caine has a strict policy on not letting humans(dead or alive) that far down in the C&A facility unaccompanied considering how many monsters reside there.It was one of the few times anyone had seen him properly upset at something Jax had done. Pomni was rightfully freaked the fuck out at a giant pair of floating teeth and eyes saying he's a long-forgotten God, needless to say, their first introductions were confusing on both ends LOL

Understandably, Pomni has a LOT of issues with herself appearance-wise. She avoided mirrors for weeks, and tried her best to keep distant from the others. Caine didn't walk on eggshells around her like the others did as she adjusted and that was something she appreciated, at least provided a little sense of normalcy. He was easy to talk to and remembered EVERY little detail.

Caine can change his form at will, but Pomni prefers his big ol' toothy head because he said he was most comfortable appearing that way.

Everyone has their own unique smells; Zooble smells like brimstone, musk, and campfire, Jax always smells like hand sanitizer and chemicals that make your nose burn, Kinger like old earth and soil, Ragatha smells comforting like your favorite old plushie, and Gangle didn't have much but she liked occasionally putting perfume on her ribbons. But Pomni always has a hint of the smell of death following her. She tried Gangle's perfumes and all sorts of scented soaps but nothing could truly mask or make it go away. It was only when Caine gifted her a bouquet of flowers that the smell was almost forgotten. Hell, maybe the plague doctors with their floral and herb-filled masks were on to something. Since then, Caine often surprised Pomni with fresh flowers, herbs, and plants to the point of her shelves overflowing with vases and pots of flowers in all states. Eventually, she gets to pressing flowers between books as a memento for every flower he's given her.

Pomni sometimes needs blood transfusions as her body doesn't make blood anymore but still needs it- she hates needles. Caine and Ragatha alternate sitting with her during it since it can take a few hours at a time and distract her with books or idle chatter until it's done. Caine is an amazing storyteller, he's existed a long time as both a noncorporeal and corporeal being and has countless stories of battles and moments long lost to time. He hasn't really had anyone to share these stories with, and the only other being who was around during all of it, well he doesn't get the chance to talk with him much these days...

Ragatha and Pomni got together first, they spent a lot more time together in the beginning since Caine only popped in once or twice a week usually. He started hanging around longer after a while and I'm getting sidetracked now I'm just imagining Pomni bursting into Ragatha's room sobbing with a "I'M SO SORRY I JUST KISSED CAINE PLEASE FORGIVE ME-" And Ragatha doesn't miss a beat, totally unphased and unbothered, "Ooh nice! Was he any good?" And Pomni's just standing there like "Wait What"

They are all very bad at communication lmao but they're TRYING THEIR BEST OKAY

Caine is not used to the concept of resting, meanwhile, pretty much all Pomni does in her free time most days is nap or laze around- it took Caine a while to not see it as a waste of time and now loves it when Pomni rests her head in his lap. He likes playing with her hair and watching her sleep peacefully.

Pomni keeps her gloves on often because she doesn't like the sight of her skeletal fingers but absolutely MELTS with palm and backhand kisses.

Caine is very touchy-feely, he rubs backs when talking idly or loops arms together, floats a little closer, and matches their pace when walking together (even imitates walking itself with little bobs in time with whoever he's walking with). On some bad joint days, Pomni has a bit of a limp from her exposed bone leg and Pomni finds it absolutely hilarious when Caine unintentionally matches that movement.

Pomni misses facebook memes a lot :(

#lab asks #ask box stuff #showtime #tadc #the amazing digital circus #monster labs au #tadc monster labs au #tadc pomni #tadc Caine #caine x pomni #pomni #Caine

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atmilliways · 10 months

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What if a fic where Eddie finds Steve so pretty and cute and at times downright adorable that he keeps wanting to bite him, but he can't because they're friends. Eddie isn't even out to Steve, doesn't want to risk it. So instead of biting, he ends up grinding his teeth a lot.

He starts getting a lot of really bad tension headaches, which brings Steve even closer into his orbit because Steve is very sympathetic (and secretly, selfishly, kind of likes having a headache buddy, because it sucks but at least they're not, like, alone). Which means Eddie grinds his teeth more and ends up with more frequent headaches.

But trying to avoid Steve results in Steve showing up outside his door with over the counter painkillers, tea, Gatorade, Pedialyte, hot and cold compresses, high quality sleep masks for cutting out light while he rests, essential oils, anything he knows that works for him when he gets a migraine. He offers scalp massages and times his compress use and refills his cup of whatever he's hydrating with and even guides Eddie to the bathroom when he doesn't want to crack an eye open to navigate the hallway.

I don't know how it ends, but at one point Steve asks Robin if migraines are contagious. She wants to grab him and shake him a little bit because what no, but he just looks so earnest and concerned and maybe a little guilty, it'd be like kicking a puppy.

#what if a fic #jean rambles #steddie #pre-steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #robin buckley #this dude makes me want to bite something too but in a platonic and very lesbian way #i haven't had this problem since my brother was little and still adorable

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fangsandfeels · 11 months

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The vagueness of Astarion sleeping mechanics drives me mad sometimes

So, the game says that elves don't sleep - to the point where it's ironically stated that the only way for them to experience sleeping is to either drink a potion of Angelic Slumber or "get hit really hard with a chair".

Instead, they enter a semi-aware meditative state (Revery) where they experience memories from their past lives (usually most positive and emotional parts). Or they just sorting through their current memories.

Now, we've seen Astarion meditating if his way of lying on a bedroll is anything to go by. He is also immune to sleeping spells. We could also see him sleeping (in a Durge run). I know that devs technically recycle the same sleeping pose for all romanced companions, but still. Also, Astarion has nightmares, which is not typical for elves.

Of course, when I was going through the lore, I scratched the surface, but from what I understood, Revery is supposed to be a controlled state, and nightmares aren't exactly controlled.

But, I've found a very interesting bit that (so far) is still considered part of the official canon:

Elves can sleep and dream just like any human, but almost all surface elves avoid doing so. Dreams, as humans know them, are strange and confusing to elves. Unlike the actual memories of one’s primal soul, present life, or past lives, dreams are uncontrolled products of the subconscious, and perhaps the subconscious minds of those past lives or primal souls as well. An elf who dreams must always wonder whose mind these thoughts first arose from, and why. Priests of Sehanine Moonbow are an exception: they sleep and dream to receive signs from their god, and elves consult such priests to interpret their own dreams."

From: Mordenkainrn's Tome Of Foes, Chapter 2: Elves

And not only does this little bit explain a lot, but it also provides some food for your fic writing purposes.

Now, I'm entering the headcanon territory, so be warned.

Astarion's access to Revery got horribly fucked up after he had been Turned. Not only does he no longer have access to his previous lives since he is technically dead and plucked from the cycle, but he also can't even have his happy or good memories before he became a spawn. Even if they are still there, somewhere in the memory palace, getting to them requires going through the catalog of traumatic and painful memories he acquired after being enslaved by Cazador. It's like running through a burning house trying to rescue your family photo - and the hall gets longer each time. So, entering a trance means confronting the worst memories of his life over and over because there is nothing else there.

Due to this Astarion may resort to sleeping, which elves don't usually do. Elves don't like dreams because dreams are subconscious, and they can't be controlled, which scares them. For Astarion, however, it means there is a chance of him subconsciously dreaming of something nice or just being blissfully empty. However, it doesn't safeguard him from nightmares which (because they are the product of his unconsciousness) get even more twisted than simple memories.

Additionally, there can be a possibility that after becoming a spawn he got cut off from meditation and trances completely, relying on sleeping only: at least, the cut spawn epilogue by Withers mentions how while Astarion needs to sleep again, he doesn't sleep alone. While we don't know what that means exactly (and whether it will ever be implemented in the game), I assume that the tadpole gave him the ability to meditate back, but it was a small improvement because his memory headspace no longer holds happy memories capable of offering solace or refuge.

So, my personal headcanon is that he switches between meditating and sleeping depending on how aware he needs to be, and whatever option feels less torturous at the moment.

For instance, in his Origin run, when he remembers the moment of Cazador carving scars into him, he is in a trance. Which is why the memory is so horribly vivid, as if he is reliving it anew.

However, when he has a nightmare where Cazador finds him, he is sleeping and experiencing a memory affected by his subconsciousness. Which is why he jolts himself awake and desperate to know the limits of his freedom.

So, yes, the man literally can't catch a break.

On a happier note (and for your hurt/comfort fanfiction purposes), once Astarion starts traveling with Tav and the group, his memory bank gets updated with memories that are actually fun and nice, so he has something to linger upon when he is meditating. Sleeping gradually becomes a bit more pleasant experience because his subconsciousness got more material to work with, so the quality of his non-controlled dreams has to gradually improve.

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 astarion #astarion #astarion brainrot #dnd elves are strange #feel free to correct me if i goofed up #because it's quite likely i goofed up

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dcxdpdabbles · 1 year

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DC x DP fic idea: Cave Boy

Danny Fenton is a lot of things, but good under pressure is not one of them. He didn't mean to be stranded in an unknown universe after playing around with his parents' Specter Speeder in the Ghost Zone and losing control of it. He didn't mean to find shelter in the strange cave systems under the city Danny crashlanded in. He didn't mean to step on any bat and bird costume-wearing toes.

All he was trying to do was fix the ship he arrived in with stolen and repurposed technology from all across the city. He also didn't take anything that wasn't in a garbage can so he couldn't even be acussed of thief.

Danny barely even allowed himself to be spotted, only going out at night to avoid regular citizens. Danny was a very considerate dimensional visitor compared to the Ghosts that came to Amity Park.

He spent hours exploring the caves as a human, but whenever he felt like it was time to go back, he shifted into his ghost form and floated upwards until he was above the ground. Sometimes he find himself far away from city limits othertimes he be right under a bank or a apparement complex.

It was an exciting, if a little rough, life. He occasionally found food in the garbage, and while it was disgusting, it was better than nothing. Thankfully, his halfa status allowed him to go longer without meals, sleep, and even breathing. It's just a bit hard to keep track of time since he rarely sees the sun, and he doesn't exactly have a clock nearby, but he sure it's been at least three months when he finds the bat and bird costume wearing people.

Danny is minding his own business, having just found a primarily intact toaster that would have the perfect wiring for the Speeder's temperature-controlling unit, when he mistakenly take a right on the third turn instead of a left.

It wouldn't usually be a problem, as he could just float to the topside and find his way to his little shelter/shop, but he had unknowingly tripped motion detectors. Danny had continued on his merry way, just starting to realize he was lost, when out of the shadows a man in a gaint bat costume leaped at him.

He yelp, barely dropping out of a nasty-looking jab, bending his back from the elbow aimed at his face and only through his ghost reflexes able to jump over the leg swipe.

"Who are you!?" The man growled "how did you find this place?"

"Dude, I live here!" Danny gasped, throwing himself to the ground to avoid what he knew was a jujitsu grab. "What you doing here?!"

He doesn't get a answering seeing as a bo staff of all things slams into the back of his head. He hits the ground just as his attacker says.

"Good job Red Robbin"

"Yummmmm" Danny mutters word association too strong not to.

When he wakes, he finds himself tucked in a medical cot inside a glass cell. He is still inside the caves but somewhere he's never seen. It's filled with technological advances that has his mouth watering just looking at them.

His hands twitch with the urge to break everything apart and tinker. He's a Fenton through and through.

He would have enjoyed the scenery- especially the gaint computer that was just calling his name- except various people in costumes were standing around his cell studying him like a animal in a zoo.

"Oh, ugh, hi," Danny says to the man in the giant red helmet. He gets no response so he tries to get a reaction from the others. It yields the same results. "Okay. So ugh is this a cult thing? Cause I really don't want to be part of whatever is happening here"

"What is your name?" The man dressed like a Bat demands and well crude if this is a cult thing Danny doesn't want them knowing his name. Either as human or as a ghost.

So he thinks of the most boring name he can think of, wrestling his ghost to make his body language as human as possible as he says "my name is Bruce"

There is a sharp intake of breath to his left, which causes Danny to look at a man wearing blue. That man has his face pressed against the glass, staring at Danny with a wide, manic smile. Even though the white lens of the blue man's mask hides his eyes, he knows they are drinking in Danny's features.

"look at him! He's adorable!" The blue man gushes and the other teenagers all nod in agreement.

"Super cute," the girl in purple agrees stepping closer to peer at Danny.

"A bit odd to see so much emotion on that face but he really is cute." the one holding a bo staff adds.

"He is weak." A boy sneers, "Hardly deserving of the blood in his veins."

"Lay off Demon Brat" The guy with the red helmet says, "He's just a civilian."

Now, Danny did not like those comments.

What if this is a cult thing but not a ghost cult like he orginally thought? What if it's a creepy sex thing? Or Cannibals? Or a secret fight club where they would force him to partake in death battles?

Whatever the case may be, they could not know he's from a different dimension.

"Bruce," the man dressed as a Bat cuts into the chatter. He levels a hard stare at Danny, who flinches away from it. The man's face softens just a bit. "We know that you from a different dimension"

"We tested your blood and have means to detect travelers from alternate universes" a guy in yellow helpfully says. "We also sort of figured who you were before that"

Seriously how?

"What?" Danny asks and the man in the Bat costume removes his masks. He's left staring at someone who look oddly familar but for the life of him he can't place it.

"Ughhhhh"

"Bruce, I'm also Bruce Wayne and in this universe I'm Batman" He says

Who?

"We will help you get home" Bruce tells Danny unlocking his cell. "I'm sorry about the ambush"

Now, this is where Danny should come clean and tell this man the truth, but he panics because he is not good under pressure and instead says, "Okay,"

And that's how Danny is mistaken for Bruce Wayne's civilian dimension traveling counterpart. He tries to roll with it, he does, but it's a little hard to when he's surrounded by weirdos who dress up like clowns to fight crime.

What even is his life.

#dcxdpdabbles #dc x dp crossover #Cave Boy #Danny is flying by the seat of his pants #the Bats are losing thier minds over “civilian teenage Bruce”

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kamiversee · 7 months

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➶-͙˚ ༘✶ 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙁*𝘾𝙆 𝙇𝙄𝙎𝙏

✧.* CHAPTER 16 || The Tension

[ { SYPNOSIS } ] ➤ A tale in which Gojo Satoru blackmails you into seducing a list of people to clear his debt. Sounds easy enough, right?

[ { CHAPTER CONTENT } ] ➤ language, fluff, heavy sexual tension, teasing, & taunting.

[ { WORD COUNT } ] ➤ 4.6k

[ { PAIRINGS } ] ➤ jjk men x f!reader. gojo x f!reader. geto x f!reader. toji x f!reader. choso x f!reader. sukuna x f!reader. nanami x f!reader.

[ [ chapters mlist } ]

——OKAY, WELL, A LOT COULD GO WRONG. But of course, you're trying to focus on the positives here. As long as you play your cards right and plan things out properly, nothing will go wrong.

However, that does not stop you from worrying about something going wrong.

Worries aside though, Choso is considered to be medium difficulty, right?

Wait... Are Gojo's levels of difficulty even accurate? Mr. Fushiguro was considered hard but when you really think about it, he wasn't all that hard... At least, not after you planned everything out. As far as Geto goes, well, as of right now you could call the man and tell him to come over and fuck you and he'd be there within twenty minutes.

Gojo himself is obviously the most whipped of those you've seduced so far. Though, you didn't realize just how severe it was at the time-- nor did you care to.

As for your current focus, Choso, the only difficulty in seducing him was how you wanted to go about it. Truth be told, you could probably just call the man over one night and seduce him then call it a day.

But... that's not all you want, now is it?

No, you want something more than sex with Choso. Which was expected, you knew this was going to happen. Sure, you tried to avoid catching feelings but how the hell are you supposed to feel about a man who painted you the day he saw you, drops nearly anything to make sure you're okay, and is just...

Fuck, the guy is everything and more.

You could sleep with him at any point in time. It's kinda cocky of you to think such a way but it's true, you can tell by the way Choso looks at you whenever you're around him and even the way he talks to you over the phone. He's not exactly playing coy about lusting for you.

Even so, whenever it is that you decide to sleep with the guy, you need to plan for the after-effects-- whatever that may be.

Is he going to be clingy? Are you going to be clingy? Will Choso be able to understand that you sleeping with him doesn't lead to an immediate relationship? He should be able to, right? He's a grown man...

Okay, if you're being completely honest with yourself here, it is not Choso you're worried about. It's yourself.

Hell, you're so engrossed in your thoughts of how you're going to go about this that you'd forgotten you have the man in your living room right now sitting next to you and comfortably watching a movie.

Shoko's out and you told her you were inviting someone over, sparing her the details of who, to which she told you that the apartment was all yours for the night. And while that's great and all, every time you turn to your right to steal a little glance at Choso, you get nervous for some reason.

You're excited and eager to have sex with the guy but again, the aftereffect is what concerns you. It terrifies you actually because if he wants a relationship, hypothetically speaking, you'd still have three other guys you have to sleep with.

And hell, knowing Gojo, the asshole would probably make the blackmail worse by threatening to expose your previous actions to the guy you like...

Everything is so fucked. No matter how you think about it.

Maybe you should just save Choso for last? Then, you'd be freed of the list and you'd be able to get with him, right? Then again, would that asshole Gojo even allow that? What's stopping him from blackmailing you further? What if he-

The sudden sound of your name being called makes you break away from your deep thoughts. Your head is slow to turn to your right, meeting Choso's curious eyes.

"You okay?" He asks.

You nod but it's an obvious lie.

Choso raises a brow, "You don't look okay..."

"I... I'm fine. I was just thinking about some things," You hum in response before turning to face forward again.

There's a horror movie on the TV that you'd long since forgotten about. The man beside you leans a little closer to you, "Thinking about what?"

You merely glance at him from out the corner of your eye, "Nothing important."

"Mmh... With the way you suddenly went all quiet on me fifteen minutes ago, it seems pretty important." Choso comments.

Okay, he may have a point there. The two of you were talking about the movie you were watching and at some point, your mind just drifted and you got quiet as the movie continued. Damn him for noticing though, you thought you played it off well.

And to make it worse, of course Choso moves to pause the movie. He then shifts so that his focus is completely on you; sliding a little closer to you and moving to rest an arm behind you along the back of the couch. When you turn your head to look at him, you chuckle at how all his attention is on you.

He probably doesn't realize how cute he looks right now, having gotten all close to you just to hear you talk about whatever's on your mind.

"C'mon, what's on your mind princess?" Choso asks, his voice gentle.

Your heart feels so weird in your chest at the sound of that nickname, a slight smile spreading across your face at the name alone. Your eyes meet his, despite the lack of personal space between the two of you, "I told you, nothing important."

Choso tilts his head, "Okay, tell me anyway."

"Why?" You ask, your brows pinching together.

He shrugs, "Cause' I came over to hang out with you but you're sitting here distracted..."

Another chuckle leaves you, "I was just thinking about school and uh, this project I have coming up."

"Uhuh..." He nods, "Is the project hard?"

"Yeah. Uhm, it's a group project and there's roughly... five of us in the group including me," You begin to explain. It's all a lie but you're going to make an analogy based on your current situation to see if you can get some kind of advice, "I've never worked with three of the people in my group so I'm kinda worried about that..."

Choso is all too intrigued with your words, seeming as though he's hanging off every syllable that leaves your lips. "Mhm..." He hums, awaiting your continuation.

You have to look away from him due to his intense focus, "Then there's this one person in the group. I've worked with them before and I'd like to say I'm pretty good friends with them but, the project we're going to be working on is something I know they won't agree with."

"Why?" He scoffs, "What kinda project is it?"

"A complicated one." You sigh, "I'd explain it but that's like an entirely different conversation so-"

"I mean, I'm not going anywhere." Choso hums.

Again, there's this little feeling in your heart that you try to ignore. "Yeah, I know but the project itself isn't what I'm worried about, it's the people."

He nods, "Alright, go on."

"Like I said, there's this one person in my group that I know better than anyone else in the group. I think I'm..." Your brows push together as you try to figure out how to word things correctly, "I'm worried about what'll happen after the project. I wanna be friends with this person but I feel like the project will change how they see me or something and when it's all over..." You steadily turn and look at Choso, "They'll want nothing to do with me anymore."

The man blinks. It's clear that what you've just explained is bothering you but the way you're looking at him throws him off for a second. His brain had frozen for just a second as he looked into your eyes.

There was no intimacy in the eye contact you both held with each other and yet Choso couldn't help this alluring feeling you gave off.

After a few seconds of staring, he clears his throat, "So like, do you have a crush on this person or something?"

Technically speaking, yes since the person from your analogy represents Choso but you can't tell him that or he'll think you have feelings for someone and won't want to do anything sexual with you in respect for those feelings.

"Uh, more like a friend crush?" You say meekly with a little shrug.

He nods in understanding, "Ohh, I get those sometimes."

"Yeah, I'm not romantically interested in this person," You definitely are, "But I don't want the friendship I have with them to change after the project is over."

"Right, well even though I don't know what this project of yours is, I'm pretty sure nothing will change," Choso says.

You scoff, "What makes you think that?"

"Cause' it's you we're talking about," He comments simply.

There goes that throb in your chest. "What do you mean by that?" You ask.

"I don't think anyone would want to cut ties with you over some project." Choso clarifies, "I can't speak for this person you're talking about but, I'm sure they know you're too great of a person to cut off over something so small."

You swallow and look away from the man again, "It's not something so small though. It's something that... makes people change the way they look at you, y'know, think about you differently."

"Okay? So?" Choso questions nonchalantly.

You turn to him again, "What do you mean so?"

Choso's still staring at you intently, "What version of you would someone not like?"

The way he words his question only furthers that little feeling in your chest. It's almost as though he were implying that any and all versions of you would be acceptable in his eyes.

"H-Huh?" You breathe out.

"Do you really think someone's going to cut you off just because your views or opinions are different than theirs?" Choso clarifies.

"Uh, yes." You say seriously, trying to calm yourself from those flustered emotions, "A-And it's not just views and opinions, it's actions too."

"What kinda actions?" He quires, the conversations suddenly growing more and more pressing.

"Actions that aren't always considered morally right."

He scoffs, "Like what?? What are we talking about here; Assault? Arson? Robbery? Murder? Theft? I'm confused." Choso blurts out, his voice passionate.

"N-No, none of those things but..." Your gaze wanders back and forth between his left and right eye as you try to come up with a way of wording this without literally telling him everything, "Fuck, I don't know how to explain it."

"You could just tell me what the project itself is." He suggests with a shrug.

Your brain is quick to come up with a slight relation, "It's a social project a-and the things that each of us have to do, especially me as the uh... group leader, they'd make someone see me differently."

Choso rolls his eyes slightly, still feeling confused as to what you could possibly do to make someone view you differently. In the heat of the moment, the man finds his words slipping out faster than he thinks about them, "Baby, unless you're going out here harming people in the name of research, I'm pretty sure no one is going to look at you differently-"

"What if I'm harming people's emotions?" You cut off, not even catching what he just called you.

His brows raise in concern, "Are you?"

"I might be." You scoff.

"I still don't understand." Choso sighs, "What could you possibly be doing that-"

"And wait," What he previously said suddenly clicks, "D-Did you just call me baby?"

"Uh..." Choso looks off to the side for a second as he too realizes what he said. After which he returns his eyes to you and notices the way the name made you slightly flustered, "Okay, yes, I did. But that's not the point here, love."

"S-Stop that." You stammer, turning away from him in embarrassment.

The pet names are throwing you all the way off and you can't even focus on the analogy you were trying to give him nor can you look him in the eyes when he calls you those names.

Choso bites his lower lip at your reaction, finding it cute, "Stop what, princess?"

"That." You emphasize.

"I'm not doing anything, am I?" He responds, his tone innocent.

"Yeah, you are." Your eyes are everywhere except on his, "You keep calling me those pet names and it's distracting..."

"I'm sorry baby." Choso apologizes purposefully.

Your heart skips a beat and you feel heat rush to your face. In reaction, you turn your head away from him, "Fuck, Choso stop."

"Why? Am I..." The man leans closer to you and his voice is low and near your ear, "Am I making you nervous, pretty girl?"

"That amongst other things..." You whisper.

Choso chuckles, "Look at me,"

"I can't now." You mumble. Your nerves are all over the damn place and your heart is pounding like crazy.

"Why?"

"C-Cause' of you, silly." You tell him.

"I didn't do anything," Choso says, "C'mon, we need to get back to our conversation anyways."

"I can't even focus on that now, forget it."

You hear him laugh at you, "You can't focus now?"

"No, no I can't."

"Aww, fuck, that's cute." Choso comments, his voice suddenly low.

You turn your head slightly, only so that you can look at him from the corner of your eye. When you notice he's smirking at you, you raise your hand to his face and playfully push him away.

Choso laughs again from beneath your palm and moves to grab a light hold of your wrist, forcing your hand to stay in place over his face. "You can't focus, huh?" He hums.

You finally turn and look at him, only able to see parts of his face through your fingers, "N-No. And why are you keeping my hand on your face?" You ask as you try to pull yourself away.

Choso's light hold on your wrist grows tighter and he shifts your hand around so that you can see his full face. The man then presses his lips to your palm and carefully kisses your hand, his eyes on yours as he does so.

Was that all it took for the man to have you aroused? Well, with that and all the pet names, yes.

"Did you just..." You blink, "Did you just kiss my hand?"

"Mhm," Choso hums against you before moving to plant another kiss, his eyes trailing down to what he's doing, "...s'that okay?" He mumbles into you.

"I..." You trail off as you watch him plant slow and tender kisses into your hand.

He continues for a little while, nearly losing himself in his simple act before his gaze flicks back up to you. The way your eyes are all widened and you're so clearly flustered has to be the cutest reaction he's ever gotten from you.

Choso slowly pulls away from your hand, still holding your wrist lightly, "Cat got your tongue, princess?"

Yes, actually. You forgot how to speak for a few seconds. "Uh..."

The man decides to give you a second to breathe, releasing your wrist and sliding back away from you a bit, "Sorry," Choso apologizes, "I don't even know why I did that..." He mumbles, looking away from you.

Did you just get him flustered because you were flustered? Holy hell that's the cutest thing in the world. He doesn't even know how to keep teasing you up to a certain point.

"No, it was fine," You finally manage to say.

He just barely looks at you, "Was it?"

"Mhm..." You hum.

Choso then takes his eyes away from you and turns his head slightly, allowing you a moment to see how red his ears are. He was blushing...

Then, he clears his throat, "Uh, a-about that project of yours-"

"Choso," You cut off, causing his voice to get caught in the middle of his throat.

"Hm?" He hums.

You tilt your head and shift on the couch slightly, inching toward him, "Are you... Are you blushing right now?"

The man turns his head all the way away from yours, keeping his face away from your line of vision, "Why would I be blushing...?"

You chuckle, "I dunno, you tell me."

"I'm not." He says, "C-Can we just go back to talking about your project...? I should've never started teasing you."

"Why? I like being teased by you," You blurt out.

Those simple words of yours make his cock unexpectedly twitch inside his pants. Choso clears his throat again, "Don't word it like that."

"Word it like what?" You hum innocently, "And why aren't you looking at me?"

He heaves out a sigh and carefully turns his head to you, almost in slow motion. Choso's face is hued in pink and you can see the flustered shade of red decorating his cheeks. His eyes go wide at how close you are to him, having crawled slightly across the couch to him.

Choso swallows, hard. "There, I'm looking at you. Happy now?"

"Very." You say simply, tilting your head again, "And you lied, you are blushing."

"No... It's just hot in here." He lies.

You scoff, "No it's not."

"Okay well, I'm hot."

"Take your jacket off then," You suggest.

He chuckles, "Right..."

You then watch as he moves to take his jacket off, neatly folding it afterward and pacing it down on the space beside him. After which, when he turns back to you, he sees that you're facing him completely, sitting on your heels with this sudden look in your eyes.

Choso blinks, "So uh, back to your project?"

You shake your head at him, "What if I don't wanna talk about that anymore...?"

"What uh, what do you want to talk about then?" He asks wearily, he then tears his gaze away from you, "A-And why do you keep looking at me like that?"

A light scoff leaves you, "Like what?"

"I dunno, like..." Choso glances at you one more time, "Fuck," He whispers to himself.

You weren't aware but you were giving the man bedroom eyes and since your eyes are the feature Choso loves paying attention to, it doesn't take him anything more than a glance to acknowledge what that look of yours is.

One of his hands rises to his face and he wipes it off as if that'll cleanse him of the sudden thoughts he's having.

"Like what, Choso?" You question again, "Cat got your tongue now?"

He turns his head to you, trying to look anywhere except for your eyes. That only worsens his situation though because of course looking at your lips doesn't make it any better. Gazing at your torso, which is hardly covered up with the tank top you're wearing, only leads him to stare at your tits.

Choso results in shooting his sights up to your ceiling and groans at himself, "Now I can't focus."

Your brows furrow, "Are you okay?" You ask, chuckling slightly at the man in front of you.

He shakes his head, "No."

"What's wrong?"

"You," Choso says seriously.

"Eh? Me??" You blink.

He makes this little gesture with his hand in the air toward his head as if to say he's going crazy, "I can't even have a regular conversation with you without thinking like this."

"Like what?" You ask teasingly.

The man sinks into the couch a little, resting his head back comfortably as he keeps his gaze directed upwards, "You're asking too many questions."

You giggle, "Am I?"

"Mhm."

"I mean, I'm just curious..." You say coyly, shrugging a little, "After all, you had me explain what was on my mind so, isn't it your turn now?"

"You didn't even finish explaining." Choso points out.

"And who's fault is that?"

He scoffs, "Whatever."

"C'mon Choso, tell me what's on your mind." You urge, moving to poke his arm slightly.

"Mmmmmh," He hums in thought, smiling to himself ever so slightly, "You might not like it."

"Unless you're thinking about robbing me, I think it'll be fine." You joke.

"I dunno, my thoughts are..." He trails off for a second before sighing. "Lewd."

You bat your eyelashes at him, "Lewd?"

"Mhm, very lewd."

"Well, now I'm really curious." Excitement is clear in your tone.

Choso finds how intrigued you are cute and he hopes his words will throw you off again, "Stay curious, baby."

You pause. Then you click your tongue, "That's not gonna distract me this time." You hum, almost seductively. You then move to sit closer to him, "Share those lewd thoughts of yours with me."

He shakes his head, "No."

You whine, "C'mon, don't make me beg for it."

"Maybe I want you to."

"Yeah?" You utter, your tone is completely sultry now but you don't care. "How do you want me to beg, hm?"

"Fuck," Choso whispers under his breath. He again turns his head away from you and you just barely hear him speak, "I can't take this..."

"Can't take what?"

"You." He clarifies.

You chuckle, "Can't take me? I'm not doing anything?"

"Yes, you are."

"What am I doing??"

Choso is slow to finally turn his head and look at you. His eyes are all low, lower than normal, lust swirling within his gaze. You don't miss the way he glances down at your lips, shamelessly staring at the way you're smiling at him.

"You're teasing me," Choso voices out, his tone low.

You inch a bit closer to him, "Am I?"

"Yeah, you are."

"Should I stop?"

"Depends." He hums.

Your smirk is constant, "On?"

He pauses for just a second. Whatever this back-and-forth banter the two of you have going on is, he likes it. "Where you want this conversation to go," Choso responds.

You raise a brow, "What if I don't want it to be a conversation anymore?"

"What do you want it to be then, princess?"

"Maybe actions." You tell him suggestively.

"Actions..." He repeats, "What kinda actions?"

You and Choso both pause, staring at one another. His eyes are on your lips and your eyes are on his. The tension in the air is palpable. There's so much sexual tension between you two that you're practically undressing one another through looks alone.

The way Choso licks his lips slowly as he awaits your next snarky response doesn't go unnoticed. He's got a comeback for anything and everything you say to him, ready to keep whatever the two of you are doing going until the other can't come up with something to say or until it leads to something else.

Choso leans in closer to you, his face nearing yours carefully, "Tell me, what kinda actions are you suggesting here?"

You let out a breathy laugh, "Take a guess."

"Nono, I want you to tell me." Choso says clearly, "You can do that, right?"

"You want me to explain to you what I'm suggesting...?"

"Mhm, I wanna hear you say it."

"So you know what I'm implying, you just me to admit it out loud?" You question further, clearly avoiding what he wants.

The male whispers to you, "Such a smart girl. That's exactly what I want you to do."

"Choso," You whisper in response.

"Hm?" He hums.

You stare at him again, refusing to say anything to the man until he looks into your eyes again. It's slow the way he drags his gaze upward along your face before he meets yours.

"...I want you to touch me," You finally answer, keeping your words as vague as possible.

Obviously, you want him to do more than just touch you but dragging it out like this is way more fun.

The corner of Choso's lips twitch and he smirks, "Yeah?"

"Mhm..." You hum innocently.

He raises a brow, the eye contact continuous, "Touch you how?"

"Doesn't matter."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, I want you to explore me."

Choso freezes and he swears his cock is throbbing right now with how unbelievably hard it is. The man swallows, "Explore you?"

"Yes, Choso." You sigh.

He flashes you a lustful smile and finally lifts his head from the couch, moving toward you. Choso's hand goes to your chin and he gently pulls you toward himself. You're quick to follow his touch, your heart at a steady beat within your chest despite how nervous you are.

His head tips to the side and he brings his lips just barely over your own, his breath tickling you as he speaks lowly, "I'm gonna explore your mouth first, s'that okay?"

You try to stop yourself from smiling, "Yeah..."

Choso slides his thumb up from your chin to your bottom lip and pulls it down slightly, "You sure?"

"Choso if you keep teasing me like this, I'm gonna lose it-- just kiss me already." You huff out.

He just couldn't help himself, not with how needy you looked right now or with how tense you were because of his one little touch. The two of you are sharing breaths at this point and it's so slow how his thumb moves and his lips press into yours.

You're quick to push into him and move your lips over his, to which he smiles slightly at how eager you are. The feeling of one of his hands going to your waist makes your breath hitch as you kiss him and you even pull away from him slightly, to which he pushes right back in aggressively.

Your arms carefully move to wrap around his neck as Choso turns his body more. Then, after growing frustrated with the awkward position, Choso simply shifts to pull you on top of him. You don't fully sit down, too engrossed in your slow make-out session to do so.

The man then clasps your bottom lip in between his teeth and pries your mouth open, pushing his tongue in. Fuck, that action made you hum against him and you get straight chills down your spine when his tongue swipes over yours.

An abrupt feeling of a smooth metal ball is felt and you pull away slightly, "Hah, w-wait, Choso..."

He's smiling at you mischievously. "You didn't know?"

You swallow hard as you shake your head and watch the man.

Choso carefully sticks his tongue out for you, revealing a piercing you weren't expecting him to have nor did you ever notice it.

Of course. Of course Choso Kamo has a damn tongue piercing. He tilts his head and his hands latch onto your waist firmly, tugging you closer to him and causing your chest to be flush with his, "Does it bother you?" He whispers.

"What, no." You reply quickly.

He moves to kiss you again, planting one little peck against you before whispering, "Then... Actually, has anyone ever..." He trails off a bit, his face reddening all over again.

You tilt your head, "Has anyone ever, what?"

"Has anyone with a piercing ever given you head?" Choso finally gets out.

You swallow deeply, your arousal thrumming through your body as you look at the man before you. Slowly, you grin at him, "No..."

Choso takes a deep breath and you can feel a throb in between your legs as he finally asks his next question, "Can I change that?"

GOJO SATORU ✔︎

GETO SUGURU ✔︎

TOJI FUSHIGURO ✔︎

KAMO CHOSO ☐

NANAMI KENTO ☐

??? SUKUNA ☐

??? NAOYA ☐

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