#at least not the kind that would have me swallowing a bottle of pills

[queen-beefcake-sqx]

let me just say I already have my entire premise planned for the Disco Elysium prompt that's already in the lead and it's both heartwarming and painfully self-reflective (for both me and Harry).

[bratphilia]

please don't try to find me through my dealer

summary: Mr. Raglan is your drug dealer.

note: fksjshd dont ask me how or why i came up with this it just happened

pairing: steve raglan / william afton x reader

tags: slightly dubcon, drugged sex, rough oral sex, implied overdose

your head is in your hands and your leg is bouncing up and down rapidly as you wait for your name to be called by the receptionist. instead, a familiar voice calls your name. you lift your head to meet the eyes of the man you're really here to see.

mr. raglan lifts his head a bit when he looks at you. then he beckons you to follow him. he leads you to his office, and you stand in the doorway expectantly. he's rummaging through a drawer in the far right corner of his office. it's a big drawer, one that clatters everytime he moves something inside. you move closer with curiosity, but before you can take a look, he shuts it, clearly finding what he was looking for.

there's a bottle of pills in his hand. it's different because you've never seen the bottles they've come from, never knew if it was from off the streets or prescription. this filled you with a feeling of relief knowing you were, at the very least, being safe. but right now, mr. raglan's fingers were conveinently covering the label of the bottle. it made you gulp.

"what is that?" you ask.

mr. raglan smiles kindly. "something to make you feel better." then he moves to a drawer on his desk and retrieves a pill cutter. "you'll have to be careful with this, one whole tablet will have you..." he emphasizes with a low whistle.

if you were sitting, your leg would bouncing out of control. but even worse, you're just standing there, like you're paralyzed. you feel like he's hiding the name of the substance on purpose, and you feel a bubbly kind of nervousness, but strangely enough, excitement.

"okay," you say ultimately.

he walks over to you. "open your mouth."

you don't quite understand the point of basically feeding it to you, but it doesn't really matter to you. the most important thing is that he's close to you, in your proximity.

you do what he says and open your mouth. he drops half of the pill on your tongue. you keep your mouth open, feeling a little dumb, and he swifting grabs a bottle of water laying on his desk for you.

and then you swallow. "thanks."

"any time."

a silence fills the room. usually you would just leave without saying anything. your relationship with him is nothing but transactional. but you stand there like you're waiting for something. he doesn't say anything either. should you make a move?

you decide to do so. "thanks... for always having my best interest." it comes out in a mumble and it's times like this where you wish you had his charisma, the ultimate power to always know what to say.

mr. raglan doesn't say anything. instead, he grips your face by the cheeks and pulls you so your heads are inches away from each other. your heartbeat quickens and you feel more nervous than when you took an unidentified pill just a minute ago.

then he kisses you. it's hungry. he's the one doing all the work. moving against your mouth, tongue swiping your bottom lip to ask for entrance, which you hesitantly give him. is this what you want? you're struck with the realization that you (probably) have been wanting this for awhile.

mr. raglan moans into the kiss. his hands wander from its grasp on your face to your waist to pull you impossibly closer. kissing william afton is an experience you've never felt before. you've kissed guys in high school, one in college so far, but it was immature and inexperienced in comparison to this.

he moves his mouth against yours and you try your best to mimic his movements. you realize that you're the one that's immature and inexperienced.

he breaks away from the kiss and stares at you. his lips are wet and plump from the action. it's undeniably beautiful, to you. he pulls you close to him and wraps his arms around you, resting his chin on top of your head. "you are so precious to me."

you could cry. this is everything you ever wanted and more.

"close the door and lock it," he says with a much different tone, one that you can't describe, letting go of you sooner than you wish he would've.

on shaky legs, you reach out for the door handle and lock it like he asked. you bite your lip nervously, afraid to look back at him. you don't even have to because, before you know it, he manuevers you to face him and his lips are on yours again. when you both pull away from each other for air, you get a good look at his face. his face is flushed, he's panting and his pupils are blown wide. he reminds you of a hungry animal circling in on its prey.

"sit on the desk," he tells you, with that commanding voice of his. he could tell you to jump off a cliff and you would do it. you do what he says gingerly, clasping your hands in your lap and fidgeting with your fingers.

mr. raglan stalks over to you like he's on the prowl. he places both arms on the desk so that they encage your legs. "do you have any idea what you do to me?"

your eyebrows furrow. "i don't know what you mean."

he chuckles darkly. "always walking in here, confiding in me like i'm some kind of therapist. most of my clients don't really do that sort of thing, you know. but you feel the need to justify yourself every time you come back here, like you're not an addict like the rest of them."

tears stung in your eyes. you can't find the words to defend yourself or even retort, because deep down, he's right. and it hurts.

to add insult to injury, he keeps going. "and you always walk in here dressed like an absolute slut. with your short skirts and your shirts that leave nothing to the imagination."

a tear rolls down your cheek. you did notice some wandering glances and prolonged touches, but you never expected it to escalate to this point.

"i-i'm sorry if i made you uncomfortable," you feel the need to apologize.

mr. raglan smiles wolfishly, but doesn't respond. instead he reaches out for your the hem of your shirt and tugs on it expectantly. you hesitantly take his cue to take it off, leaving you bare chested — you felt lazy this morning and skipped the bra.

"see what i mean?" he says, fingers reaching pinch your nipples, causing you to cry out desperately. "absolutely nothing is left to the imagination."

you feel hurt. slutshamed to be exact. but you can't deny that his touch was welcomed.

"you like that, huh," he says, laughing lowly. you can only respond with a small "mhm."

his hands slide down to your waist. "lay back for me, yeah?" his desk surprisingly lengthy that you can rest your head with it still touching the surface. he lifted your legs and folded them in half causing your skirt to ride up to your wait, exposing your panties to him. your face burned at the lewd position he put you in.

mr. raglan lowers himself to his knees so that he's kneeling right in front of your pussy. your face flushes at the thought of your choice of underwear today: white with a small, pink bow on the front. you wish you wore something sexier, but he seems to like it. "cute pair," he comments.

he doesn't take them off like you expect him to, but instead he grasps around the center and pulls the fabric to the side with force, exposing your mound to him. you let out a flurry of whimpers when he blows air on your clit. "you like that, baby?" he asks and you nod.

"answer me," his tone changes and it's much more forceful. "answer me and i'll give you what you want."

"yes... yes i love it," you gasp out desperately.

he rewards you by smacking a kiss onto your clit, making you moan out. he starts licking in circles around the sensitive nub, teasing you until you can feel yourself pulsating uncontrollably.

then he stops.

he guides one of your hands to your pussy, specifically the hood. "pull this back for me."

you whimper nervously again at the implication. doing what he says, you pull the hood protecting your clit back, and expose it to him. immediately, he assaults the sensitive area with his mouth, making you squirm and writhe.

the most pornographic moans you've ever made tumble from your mouth he absolutely ravages you. he's moaning and grunting into  you, only egging you on even more.

"fuck!" you cry, at a slow swipe of his mouth. "fuck, i'm so close — god." your thighs start shaking but he quickly halts them by tightly gripping them with large hands. when you come it feels like a rubber band snapping. you give one last, drawn out cry.

he pulls away from your sensitive pussy and stands to his full height. he does pump a finger inside of you, only to retreat it quickly, and brings it to his lips for a taste of you.

"so good for me, honey," mr. raglan says with a grin, running a hand gently up and down your thighs.

you don't realize it at first but you're sobbing quietly and tears are running down your face. "please," you say quietly. "please fuck me."

he laughs at you like you said something funny. "not yet."

"what.." you say, but an overwhelming feeling hits you before you can finish your sentence. you feel like you've been put on mute. you start to feel lightheaded. your legs relax so that they dangle over the desk. you feel like every muscle and limb inside of you has gone limp. it's a scary feeling, to be awake while you're whole body is asleep.

and then you lose consciousness. the fucking pill.

[androgynousblackbox]

How To Lose A Lucifer in 10 Days. 7 [Appleradio, Radioapple]

Step 7: Talk to him

Alastor hold up the bottle of pills that his tentacle dropped on his hand, sat at his bed. He sensed that Lucifer had portalled away from his floor and sighed.

One pill for calming down, two for sleeping, with no secondary effects to the baby. The baby he didn't even know he was having not even a few hours ago. A baby he didn't even know was possible for him to have at all.

They talked, casually, about maybe some day giving Charlie a sibling in the future, but her creation had already been so taxing for the both of them that it was practically agreed upon that going through that once was enough for any foreseable future.

Alastor bite on his lip until he tasted the flavor of his own blood, ruffling his hair as he desperately tried to not think. In general, but especially not on how wrong it had felt to let another Lucifer to give him his magic or how everything was so royally wrong in every way possible. It was almost funny, on the most fucked up sense that there could be, how they never were able to catch a single break.

If it wasn't a extermination threatening their daughter, it was Heaven separating them and if it wasn't that it was some spell coming out of nowhere to screwed them over just at the most perfect time to maximize how screwed they could be. It was the kind of sadistic espectacle that he would laugh at if it was happening at literally anyone else, but since it was happening to him, he immediately wanted to throw the curtain over it.

Putting the bottle pill on the side, Alastor went to the bathroom for a quick bath that did nothing to calm his nerves. He wondered briefly if magical pregnancies had the same restrictions than biological ones and if that wasn't the case, if he could just grab a drink out of Husk. He should have really asked that to the queen of Sloth when he had the chane, but the thought didn't even crossed his mind. Once he had his confirmation, all he wanted to do was get home, do what was necessary to at least this weeks for the baby to continue it's cycle and have some calm and quiet on his own room.

Now that he had all the peace and quiet he could ever want, he had no idea what to do with himself. There was no one he could maim, theaten, destroy, manipulate or control to solve this. There was nothing for him to do.

He changed back to his sleep wear and sat at the bed, not looking at the empty space behind him. Maybe one pill could actually help? If it wasn't going to affect his body too much, then might as well could try it. Until tomorrow that they could think of something else. With any luck, he could find a neck to crush into giving some kind of answer. It was the most comforting thought he could have.

Just when he was about to swallow the first pill, a golden shackle appeared around his neck. Alastor froze in place like that was just a fluke, a mistake of his own senses, but when the sensation was still very much there after a bit he touched it with his hands. He found the ring connected to the chain and followed it. The golden chain was dissapearing on the headboard of his bed.

"Al?" called a voice, just as clear and close as if the source was literally just in front of him in the same room. "Babe, can you hear me?"

"Darling?" Alastor realized too late that he lost his grip on the bottle and this one ended up in the floor, dispersing all the little lilac pills everywhere.

But at that point he couldn't care less as he climbed on his bed, pulling on the chain. Something pulled back in response but it wasn't strong enough to force his collar. Just a sign of mutual recognition.

"It worked!" said Lucifer, laughing. His voice was coming from the chain itself, carrying the words like another link. The joyious sound of his husband made Alastor to break out a bigger smile, before he even thought about what was happening. "Holy shit! I can't believe I have added the in all realms portion in all my contracts for millenia and this is the first time I feel glad about it!"

"You can hear me?" asked, touching the wall and wondering if ripping it appart would make him reach Lucifer on the other side.

"Yes, babe, yes!" Lucifer let out a shaky chuckle. "I-I couldn't sleep so I thought, wait, I still have my contract and I can call him from everywhere, so in theory I should be able to call him from here and look, I was right!" Lucifer's breathing hitched. "Fuck, it's so good to hear you, babe."

"My darling" Alastor sighed, kissing the portion of the chain he could hold on his hand, nuzzling. He never felt restricted by the contract with his husband and in that moment, never nore grateful for it. He wished that Lucifer could feel him through the chain, as it was now was an extension of both of their bodies. "I should have known. Our contract bind us as long we are both alive."

"Y-yeah" Lucifer was still struggling to get a grip on his emotion that were spilling out of him. "I am sorry it took me this long to think about it. I am such an idiot."

"I will forgive you" Alastor laughed softly. "For this one time. Don't ever keep me waiting like that again, love."

"Deal" Lucifer chuckled between his tears. "How long has it been? Just three days? Less than a week and I thought I was going to lose my mind already. We are really such a mess, babe."

"Maybe. I can't say I care" Alastor purred. One day or one week made no difference at all. They were all unacceptable regardless. Nobody should have ever forced them to be separated like this. "I missed you" said to the chain and he could almost hear Lucifer whiping his face. More than anything he wished he could be with him, brushing his blonde hair with his finger. "Tell me that you are any closer to being back, love."

"We… we kinda had an idea. Remember the stone that Vaggie gave Charlie for her birthday?"

"Charlie used it on Angel already" Alastor rolled his eyes. "Some frivolous job insulting some old rich man, I think. That was his dream job. A waste if you ask me. Why?"

"Well, we think that the Charlie of this side might have accidentally wished for this to happen. The Alastor and Lucifer of here were so bad at living together that she wished they could get along and, well… "

"It called upon a Lucifer that already got along with his Alastor" Alastor blinked for a second and realized he had incrusted his claws on the wall. It took him a moment to process that some other Charlie was essentially the responsible for all of this. "And left us with a Lucifer that didn't" hissed, glaring to no one.

"She didn't mean to" said Lucifer, as if sensing the slow rising anger on his husband. "In fact, she didn't even know until today that the wish was already used. Don't get upset, babe. You would love her if you were here. But, hey, that is already something! We just need to find another stone like it, cancel this wish and everything will be back to normal. You can do it from your side as well! Stolas can help. He was the only one who knew what it was before Vaggie explained anything. The one here said it was basically our best bet."

"I will ask around. If anyone in any of the rings knows something, I will find them" Alastor sighed, supporting his head against the wall. Finally an actual plan he could follow and execute. Something he could do. "That is great, love" He looked at the chain for a moment as he brushed his abdomen. This wasn't how he wanted to tell him. Lucifer should be there to hear it, solid and warm and present, so his hand could erase the contact of the other Lucifer, but he couldn't bear the thought of not telling him. "I have something to tell you."

"Something bad?" asked Lucifer. His voice immediately sounded so concerned that Alastor chuckled, shaking his head. "Please, tell me everyone is fine over there."

"It's not bad at all" Alastor cleared his throat. The best course of action was probably just say it, plain and simple. "We are expecting a baby."

"What…" He could almost see the face of his king scrunching up in confusion. "What baby?"

"I am pregnant, darling." Alastor chuckled at the shocked silence on the other side. Lucifer no doubt sporting a face that he would want to kiss over and over as the cogs on his brain turned, trying to understand.

"But you don't have…"

"It's a magical pregnancy. No womb necesary. We just needed to wanted it at the same time. That is all that took" Alastor pulled slightly on the chain, as if pulling the hand of Lucifer to his. "You never told me you wanted another one."

A moment of silence passed through. One long enough that now he got concerned.

"Lucifer?"

"I…" came out the voice of his husband, strangled. "A-are you sure?"

"I went to the Sloth ring today to confirm it" said Alastor, deciding to keep for now at least the why and how he had to make sure in the first place. "The queen had me tested. It's just a few days old so you can't see anything yet, but it's there."

A sound of renewed sniffling came through.

"Oh, Al, babe" Lucifer sighed. "I am so sorry you had to go alone. That is… I mean, that is amazing news. It was just before Charlie's birthday, remember?" Lucifer gave a shacky laugh. "I thought that if we could do that, have another baby, that it would be the best baby ever just like she is. I thought it could be so fun parent with you again. You too?"

Alastor nodded before realizing he had to verbalize it for Lucifer to get it.

"Charlie was already so good as Emily's sister" commented. "She would be so good with a younger sibling. You would be so happy with a new baby."

"I am!" said Lucifer, openly sobbing and laughing now. "I fucking am, I am, I swear… I want to hold you so badly, babe. I love you so much."

Alastor blinked strongly, the grip on his throat leaving him to take a few breath before he could trust himself to speak again.

"I love you too" said, squeezing the chain on his hand as if Lucifer could feel it. "That is why I had to keep it even if you weren't here. If this was just an accident somehow, we can just try again when you come back, but if we both wanted it enough for this to happen… how could I not?"

"I wouldn't judge you any way, babe" assured Lucifer suddenly, as if it was very important for him to make that known. The chain pulled back from his side slightly. "I would understand no matter what. Magical pregnancies are not easy on your own. I wouldn't blame you if you… wanted to skip that until I can help you directly."

"I know" Alastor swallowed at remembering what the other Lucifer had to do. It wouldn't be the last time either if they couldn't bring his husband back sooner. "But I have made up my mind. I want this one."

"Then I want it too" Lucifer laughed. "We are going to be parents! Again! I can't wait to be there and see them grow! What do you think it will be? Boy, girl or something else?"

"Who cares" Alastor sighed. "As long it's ours, they will be perfect."

"Yeah, they will" Lucifer's voice sounded slightly closer, as if he was getting the chain against his face. "That is great, babe. How did everyone else took it?"

"I haven't told anyone else yet" confessed Alastor. "I want you to be here and do it the both of us. Nobody would know unless they could see the magic, so there is some time left."

"See magic…" said Lucifer and Alastor brazed himself, knowing what was coming. "Like the other Lucifer? Does he know?"

Maybe it was best to rip off that bandaid too.

"He was the one who first told me about it" Alastor definitely was not going to get into how that happened either. Lucifer would only feel all the more worse about it. "He went with me to the Sloth ring because I never visited it myself. I had no choice, darling."

"I know, babe" Lucifer sighed deeply. "Well, that is a relief. I was worried you were handling all of that completely on your own, but if that Lucifer is there and is helping that is better. If he is absolutely anything like me, then he won't let anything bad happen to you" Alastor groaned at that. "Al, don't give me that I can take care of myself shtick. I know you do, but you should have someone on your side still. I would feel a lot better if that someone is him before a stranger or no one."

"It's not that. I just wished you were here instead."

"Me too, babe. I take it you are not getting along well?"

"You could say that" Alastor rubbed his temple, letting himself sit on the bed, his back turned to headboard. "How about on your side?" asked, already snearing at the idea of a lesser version of himself getting to see his husband while he couldn't.

"Oh, you know. He is still… you, so it's a work in progress" Lucifer chuckled. "At least he hasn't tried to choke me, so hey, I take that as a good sign!"

"If that poor imitation puts a single finger on you, I will make sure he knows the meaning of pain" Alastor warned, letting the static fill the air.

"He hasn't, babe, it's fine" said Lucifer with a sigh. "You know, we should probably unpack why you have that little faith on yourself."

"That is not me, my love. I have lived with you. I have chosen to do so. That Alastor has no connection to you and only knows you as the king that can take everything away from him if he pleases, including his life. He hates you in principle because of it."

"Oh. Right, you would know" Lucifer let a beat pass. "So what I should do so he does't see me like that?"

"Darling, there is no point. If any of us finds a new stone, the condition for that wish will be null and thus it won't matter at all what that other Alastor thinks or feels about you. Getting that stone should be our priority, not getting to be pals with a demon that has no reason at all to be your friend."

"Sure, but if we can do that too in the meanwhile, why not? I mean, you thought the same thing and then changed your mind. What did it?"

Alastor sighed, rubbing his face with one hand and ignoring the warmth that suddenly was spreading.

"I understood that you didn't want to hurt me. That despite having all the power and means to do anything you wanted, I was safe with you."

"Awww."

"That took a year to happen, my love" pointed out Alastor. "We don't have that much time. It will be a lot easier to just keep a respectable distance until it's this Lucifer's problem."

"I may have fucked up that already" said Lucifer with a smaller voice. "I don't think it counts as keeping my distance if I made a deal with him so he would let me sleep on his room."

"You what" Alastor let those words linger on the air as Lucifer squirmed on the other side.

"Nothing happened! I just didn't want to sleep alone because the last time I did you were gone! I was desperate, babe, please, don't think there was anything else. I just missed you too much."

Alastor thought of his shadows following this other Lucifer around, almost out of habit but also a simple desire of keep seeing his face. He should have imagined that Lucifer would do something similar, but a more direct and less subtle way. The fact that Lucifer actually told him about it was enough to know where his mind was at.

No, he didn't imagine for a second that anything beyond that happened. The only part he truly disliked was involving that other Alastor, whose intentions he had no way of knowing nothing about.

"Don't do that again" sighed, opening the covers of his bed to slip inside. "I will stay with you during night like this until you are back. No more deals."

"I just wanted to see you, babe" The chain moved up top and became tense for a second, before relaxing again as if Lucifer too was reaccomodating. "If it's any better, that other Al called it off. Is that why I had to look another room to stay in and I am alone now."

"He called it off?" Alastor frowned.

"He didn't really appreciate me telling him all the things I love about you" Lucifer giggled to himself. "Poor guy thought I was going to tell him weaknesses to exploit with his Lucifer when we shook hands and then I go to told him I liked your ears."

Alastor stared at the wall on with wide eyes. Slowly his laugh creep out of him, making the links of the chain shake against each other.

"I knew you would like that" commented Lucifer, the smile of his voice only make him laugh more. "You didn't marry with the devil for nothing, babe. I can take care of myself too."

Alastor covered the up of his face, sighning deeply with an urge that almost surprised. He loved it when Lucifer reminded him of who he was for the rest of creation.

"My sneaky devil" Alastor calmed down somewhat. "Are you in bed now, love?"

"Yes. I guess this would be our room of this universe? But it's where this Lucifer stayed in. It's uh… it reminds me to how my room used to be before you came back. There is not a lot to see here" Alastor made a neutral hum in response, prefering not to think on the implications of that. Although now it made more sense why that other Lucifer was so convinced that his husband could be so lonely without a proverbial Lilith to be manipulated. Maybe speaking from a too personal space. "Does the collar bother you? Can you lay comfortably?"

"Yes, dear" Alastor let his fingers play with the floating chain in front of him. "I don't mind it at all."

"Good, good" Lucifer sighed. "Are you tired?"

"Is there anything on your mind, dear?" asked Alastor. "I am fully awake if so."

"No, just… You have seen how I can make clones of myself, right? Well, that and a illusion spell can make it look like anything else. How would you like to learn to make one of me?"

"Do you have a clone of me already there?"

"Yeah" Lucifer snorted softly. "I told you, I don't want to sleep alone if you are not here. Want to join me?"

Alastor saw the sigil of illusion on his wrist and the recommendation of Bel to not use if it wasn't necessary came to mind. But one night of indulgence shouldn't affect the baby too much. Besides, if more magic was urgent, he did have aLucifer that had already proven was willing to help. A Lucifer that haven't even asked anything in return for it.

He shook that thought for later.

"I am listening" said, sitting up.

"With your magic it should be easier. Use one of your shadows as a base" Alastor lifted a hand and the shadow figure appeared sitting on the bed just like him, the eternal smile on his face. "Once you have it, you just have to give it a solid form. Think of it like your own reflection on a mirror. When you step into a mirror, your reflection is already there, you don't have to think too hard about it. See if you can treat that shadow the same. Take a deep breath, look away for a moment and then return to it."

Alastor did as told, looking to a side of the room, the wall with their family pictures and some puppets from Lucifer hanging. He thought about that mirror on their bathroom and how he looked at it each morning, how he never questioned it's existence, as natural and to be expected as the ability to move his fingers or blinking. Since returning from Heaven, he had plenty of time to get familiarized against with his own face and body.

"Did it work?" asked Lucifer through the chain, just when Alastor's attention went back to his shadow and finding… myself standing there, dressed on the same pajama he was wearing.

"I think so" Alastor extended a hand, just as the other figure did, and their fingers touched each other's tip. He wrapped his fingers around the wrist, letting it go almost immediately when he felt the same around his own. "What now? Illusion spells are not my especialty."

"Don't worry, babe! If you could do that on your first try, then this will be a piece of cake. Or piece of gut if that makes it more appealing. You just have to have a very clear image on your mind of what you want this clone to look like. And I mean clear as day. If you can use one of our pictures then all the better. Then grab any part of the clone that you want and draw the same sigil I gave you there."

That seemed easy enough. If he needed a reference for how his husband looked like there were plenty of options around him, but he didn't really need it. The image on his mind was impossible to dilute. He had it there since the moment Lucifer spoke to him through their bond and he wished he could touch him. Taking a deep breath, Alastor took one of the hands of the clone and copied the same symbol with a finger, green magic seeping into the grey dark skin of the back.

Once finished, he pressed it down with his thumb and Lucifer lifted his eyes, wearing the t-shirt and blue shorts he often used for bed.

"You smile like me" commented Alastor, holding the face up of the clone.

He brushed back some of the blonde hair. It was bizarre feel all of it at the same time on himself, like the memory of a caress that refused to go. This Lucifer's smile was wide and perpetually self assured, as if his husband was imitating him.

"Yeah, they still move and react to things the same way you do" commented Lucifer. "It's not perfect, but it's better than nothing. How do you feel it?"

"New" said Alastor, laying on the bed again, bringing the other with him by the hand. The smiling Lucifer laid his head on top of his abdomen, nuzzling him exactly how he imagined Lucifer would do. Alastor pet the blonde hair.

"What do you want me to do with you?" asked Lucifer, his voice becoming softer as if speaking over the same pillow.

"You are putting your face against my stomach. I told you that it's too soon to feel the baby, but you woulnd't care."

"No, I wouldn't. I like your fur anyway. But knowing that underneath our baby is about to grow, you bet your hot ass that I will adore it, Al."

The clone Lucifer open up the button of his shirt for more direct contact. He left a kiss on his abdomen, the fingers brushing his hips gently. Alastor let out a small gasp as he brought his legs together.

"What else I am doing with you, babe?"

"You are kissing it now" Alastor covered his face with his hand, realizing what the hell he was saying. This wasn't really Lucifer, it was himself. And yet it was also the closest thing to his husband he had in what already felt too long.

"Oh?" Lucifer sounded surprised for a second. Only a second before his voice turned into something else. Something raspy and deeper that had Alastor swallowing. "I see. Remember when I had that trip to the Wrath ring and I only had my radio to stay in contact with you from my hotel room?"

Alastor squeezed his teeth together. That night Lucifer had been the one narrating to him what he was doing with himself and what would do to him if they were on the same space. As an admirer of what a voice could do, Alastor liked all the sounds he could hear coming from his husband even as the rest of his body wasn't needing release or further estimulation. The way that Lucifer had moaned his name when climaxing was the only thing that made him regret not being able to record it for his own personal collection.

"It's different" was all Alastor could think to reply.

The clone of Lucifer lifted his face to look at him and he sighed, caressing his cheek. Their cheek. Whatever. He was beautiful regardless and so close, warm and there that there no denying the pull from somewhere deep within himself.

"That is why we should try it" said Lucifer. "It's just you and me like always, Al. I want to be the one to hear you now."

Just as Alastor was thinking about it, Lucifer's clone was already pulling on his pajama bottoms, taking away his underwear with them.

"What I am doing now, babe?"

"You… just took out my pants off" said, just as his tentacles were taking the pieces of clothing to put it aside. The clone stood over his knees to take out his own shirt. He was just as unquestionably handsome as his husband had always been. "You pulled out your top. I like seeing you."

"Mmm, for sure. I want to feel every portion of you that I can grab. If you want to touch me too, that is fine with me. What else?"

Alastor licked his lips as the clone did the same. It wasn't the same sultry expression he had seen on Lucifer, but it was close enough that he found himself opening his legs for him to accomodate in the middle. The clone lowered down flexing his arms, his eyes fixated on the portion of his body that Lucifer had created for him.

"You are about to…" Alastor's words got cut short with an unexpected moan. The lick left a particular flavor on his tongue, but didn't tampened the pleasurable tingle when the clone did it again. Alastor grabbed to the pillow as he rotated his hips against that beautiful face. "Again. Deeper. Your tongue… is inside."

"You always taste so good for me, baby, I can't resist. I bet you are all opened up and wet for me" The way the words that Lucifer came out breathy had Alastor staring at the wall above his head.

"What are you doing over there, darling?" asked, grabbing the head of the Lucifer he had there, buried between his twitching legs.

"I have you sucking me off, but don't mind me" Lucifer gasped and his soft chuckle made Alastor to squeeze the pillow tighter on his claws. "This is about you, the future father. I want to treat you for giving me another kid, you deserve it. Come on, what else do you want me to do, Al?"

The clone of Lucifer rised up and crawled on fours on top of him. Alastor reached out for his head before he went down, their mouths finding each other in the middle. It was a strange feeling, kissing what was basically his own hand, but the sounds of Lucifer's pleasure were making it so much better. Alastor made sure his moans were drowned by the tongue inside, hoping that he could have the same effect on his husband. His voice getting a use that never had before and would never have again for anyone else but him.

"Ah, making out it is. Can you feel yourself on my tongue, honey?"

"Yes" Alastor licked the lips of the clone, bringing him closer until his knee could brush the erections still hiding on his shorts. He was just about as excited as his own body as mere reflection of it. Even knowing that, Alastor reached his hand to cup it, recognizing the shape and weight he knew so well. "I want to suck you off here too."

"How about you sit on my face while you do it?"

As soon he suggested that, Alastor smiled big.

"Not a bad plan" said, giving a tiny pat on the side of the clone. He knew already what to do. The clone in position over the bed, Alastor lifted his legs to straddle the face of his husband. "You don't need to breath anyway, do you, darling?"

"Nope. Clones either, so go wild, babe" Lucifer came out muffled.

Alastor imagined that he was already doing the action on his side and his insides contracted as he lowered further, smelling and tasting himself. He had never treated those parts before in that way and for first time he understood why Lucifer liked dedicating his attention to it.

"Off your shorts go" said Alastor, having his tentacles pulling them out of the way to get lost on the floor. The erection of his love was ready for him, exactly as he remembered it, down to the veins proturring in the middle to a most delectable head. "I am stroking you, my love. Can you feel it? Every lick that I dedicate to you?"

Lucifer gasped, breathing in to being able to speak.

"Do you like it, babe? I want you to enjoy it so my meal is all the better. I want you dripping down my chin."

Alastor bite his lip and kissed the head, letting it inside his mouth to suck obscenly loud for the chain to catch. The taste wasn't quite the same as the one in his memory, but he still convinced himself that it was as he bobbed his head. Inch by inch, he brought it all to the inside of his mouth until it reached the end of it. Relaxing his throat, he took it to the base, shaking his head slightly before pulling out. As the tongue of the clone sucked on his sensitive nub, Alastor closed his eyes to hear the heavy moans and pleased hums coming to him from their connection. Years of experience told him exactly the point exactly on which he had to stop.

"You… want to be inside" Alastor panted as he rised up.

Lucifer needed to catch his breath for a second before talking.

"Yes… You want me to feed magic to the baby that way, honey? We have to be good responsible parents to make sure our baby grows good, don't we?"

Alastor shivered with those words. He didn't know what kind of sound he made, but it must have been a good one because Lucifer chuckled.

"You like that, huh?" Alastor bite his lips, not trusting his words as he positioned himself over the clone, whose hand came to grip his waist. "How do I do it, babe?"

"I… I ride you" managed to say Alastor, positioning the clone's erection where he needed it to be. "The baby needs all the magic that it can get, darling."

"And you are going to be a good father and make sure they get it, don't you?" The clone caressed his flat stomach, running his fingers through his fur. "Admit it, you were wishing that I filled you with fawms for a long time, didn't you?"

Alastor whimpered as he went down, feeling his body instantly adapt to the intromission. The clone's mouth was a mess that he would try to clean with his own tongue, his own smile making him look like he was showing it off.

"Y-yes…" sighed, sitting completely. His mind already seeing his belly stretching. How it would feel the extra weight, to have the hands of Lucifer touching him, the unquestionable certainty that their own child was growing inside. He licked the fingers of the clone, kissing them almost reverently. "You have to take responsability for your children, my love."

"With all pleasure, dear" Lucifer gasped as the clone sit, kissing his neck. Alastor wrapped his arms around the neck as he started moving, the hands gripping him from behind giving him only the smallest of pushes. "You are so hot, babe. My gorgeus little doe…"

The thought of Lucifer of all people calling him little made him snort, laughing a second later.

"Little?"

Lucifer chuckled too.

"Oh, fuck off" said on the other side, without losing the humor. "I was just trying to be sweet!"

"You are sweet" said Alastor, kissing the clone, hoping that Lucifer understood that it was for him. "But you can do that without ignoring reality, my little king."

"Reality sucks, so I am making my own. In my reality I get to call you whatever I want" He could almost hear the pout through his voice, making him giggle even harder and Lucifer followed until a sigh came out of him. "Your cunt I bet feels amazing as you laugh though."

"It does, actually" purred Alastor, rotating his hips. "I feel myself in and outside too. Squeezing myself, restricted and yet full."

"It's fucking great, isn't it?"

"You have done this before?" Alastor kissed the neck of the clone, lifting himself up and down and gripping on the blonde hair as he hummed from his chest.

"Yeah, of course. Haven't done it in a while since I met you though. I have almost forgotten how weird it was."

Alastor sighed, nuzzling the head of the clone. Sometimes he could actually forget that before he ever appeared in hell, Lucifer had spent thousands of years wishing for a company that haven't reached him yet. It made all the sense then that he would have to invent ways to entertain himself, to make his solitude more tolerable. The fact at least now they could share that at least was different, now it was their way to reach to each other when physically they couldn't.

Lucifer's kissing noises made him smile. Even if they were not in perfect sync through all, the idea of Lucifer still wanting to touch him in a similar way that he was warmed him up like a hug.

"I like it" whispered, grinding down as a pleasant shiver ran down his spine. "Weren't you feeding your baby, my love? Like a respectable buck outgha do with their doe."

Lucifer laughed on the other side.

"I was, in fact" commented, grunting. "I must have been distracted by something. Or someone."

"Can't imagine what" replied Alastor with a smirk, licking the red dots on the cheeks of the clone. "I must be a more responsible father than you that I didn't forget what it must be done."

"How about I throw you into the bed and show you how well I can care for our fawn?"

"If you must" teased Alastor and laughed shortly when the clone lifted him up by his thighs, turning on the bed over his knees to let his back fall into the covers. Soon enough Alastor wrapped his legs around the clone, letting out a loud whimpering when the cock entered him again, slowly first and quickly picking up the pace. "L-lucifeer…" gasped rough, bringing the clone closer as he lifted his hips to find him half the way. He had to actively concentrate on the movement to keep going, forcing him to remain in grasp of his mind and not lose himself on the sensations. Good thing that at least he had some practice. "Our fawn need his father, love."

"You are such a good doe for me, babe. I am going to make sure to give that body of yours the purpose that it deserves, giving a home to all my fawns" Lucifer was whispering on his ear through the chain. His words carrying such intention that Alastor clawed the back of the clones and arqued his own as he felt the sting, moaning. "Going to leave you so full that everyone will know you are taken."

"Will you?" sighed Alastor, locking his ankles together to press on the bottom back of the clone. He pressed his eyes close as he saw the face of Lucifer above, the hunger and need on his red eyes that would inflate his chest with pride. "I can't wait, my king, to give you another heir."

The clone bite his neck and he tighten his jaws to press harder. The voice of Lucifer filled his head with breathy praises as his skin was pespered with kisses. Firm hands took hold of his waist, pressing down as the thrusts were going faster. Alastor's claws were engraving themselves on the headboard as he was trying his hardest to concentrate.

"That wasn't the first time I thought about it" confessed, looking for the other's mouth to kiss it desperately. "That was just the first time it did anything. I had thought about it for so long. Since the first time we talked about having Charlie. I wanted to feel your baby growing inside me for years."

"A-Al…" Lucifer's stuttering voice announced his end, sounds of effort as he came. After a few seconds of silence, he panted. "Babe?"

"Not yet" managed Alastor, rubbing himself with his tentacles on his sensitive spot. It was suddenly imperative to reach that ending, to be where his husband was. "Not… fuck!" yelled, the feedback noise coming from his chest filling up the room.

Alastor let himself fell to the bed, holding onto the clone with both arms and tentacles. It didn't mattered if essentially he was hugging himself, he didn't want to be alone again after that. As he catched his breath, he saw the golden chain through half closed lids and thought they looked pretty, like the sparkles Lucifer would make in front of a laughing Charlie.

"Am I still there?" asked Lucifer.

"You are" said Alastor finally, nuzzling the blonde head. "Can we do this every night too?"

"If we do, you are going to need more magic from the other Lucifer for the baby. Are you okay with that?"

"I don't know" Alastor sighed. He didn't want to think on that. Or any other of the many implications of his husband not actually being there. "I will think about it."

"Fair enough" Lucifer sighed. "You did amazing, babe. Like actually amazing. You really picked it up so fast."

Alastor chuckled softly, caressing the cheek of the clone. The clone was still acting as the way he would imagine Lucifer to do, now nuzzling on the fluff on his chest as it were a pillow to accomodate for his sleep.

"I had a good motivation for learning" commented, kissing the other's forehead.

"Still amazing" Lucifer breathed in and out a couple of times. A comfortable silence extended between them as Alastor let his body relax. "Babe. Did you… mean what you said? Were you really thinking on that for so long?"

"It was just an idea, darling" said Alastor, moving his head slightly towards the chain. "I knew it couldn't happen and I was okay with it. But I suppose it was on the back of my mind from time to time."

"I wish you would have told me, babe" Lucifer pulled briefly on the chain as he chuckled. "If I had known that breeding was your kink, I would have tried to impregnate you a long time ago."

Alastor turned his face to the other side, even if Lucifer couldn't see him.

"Believe it or not, that was a surprise for me too. You sounded happy about it though."

The laughter of Lucifer traveled through the chain, making the links dance in the air.

"It's our baby and you, what is there to not be happy about?"

Alastor hummed aprovingly at the right answer. He turned around on the bed, finally retrieving his tentacles to let the clone put his cheek on the pillow. The hand lazily caressing his side was more comforting than he cared to admit. Lucifer repressed a yawn.

"Are you staying until morning, love?"

"Mmm, yes. For as long you want me, Al" Lucifer sighed and Alastor could almost see him stretching over the bed, satisfied and content as he wrapped his own clone with his arms.

He also turned in bed, his back pressing against the chest of this other Lucifer. Silencing any voice telling him this was still just his magic, he allowed himself to feel reassured. Ideal or not, Lucifer could still be him with one way or another. If he had that, then the waiting to hold him on his arms again was going to be more tolerable.

[trivialovehandles]

Omg Pls can you do an either taekook/ jikook squashing

Where Jungkook is gaining weight fast after eating something and suddenly he’s squashing his bf

ngl squashing is a lower-tier kink for me so this is maybe more focused on the rapid wg aspect but? so fun to write (ao3 link! i will be putting all request fics here as well)

Jimin’s learned throughout the years that Jungkook coming home looking sheepish and excited is either a very good thing (see: the day he came home with a puppy who is now no longer a puppy and is currently napping next to the refrigerator) or a very bad thing (see: the day he came home with a bunch of stuff to do stick-and-poke tattoos and now they each have the Hangul for each other’s names on their left ass cheeks forever).

When he breezes through their apartment door today, he’s clearly trying to hide it, but Jimin’s known him long enough to see the telltale signs: his teeth clamped on his lower lip, the excited way he covers his ears with his hands, and the way he keeps spacing out, like he’s thinking of something else.

Jimin doesn’t push for now, too busy finishing their dinner, but he’s sure by the time they’re done eating that Jungkook won’t be able to keep holding it back anyway. Instead, he accepts the kiss Jungkook gives him on his way to change out of his work clothes and pinches his hip affectionately as he leaves.

And he’s right: Jungkook’s only halfway through his first serving of bibimbap when he can’t take it anymore.

“So I found something today,” he says with a mouthful of meat and rice, like the thought couldn’t wait until he swallowed.

Jimin places his chopsticks gently back down so he can give his clearly excited boyfriend his undivided attention. “Oh?”

Jungkook doesn’t stop eating as he talks. “At the pharmacy, when I was getting those blister pads for you—”

Not a very appetizing moment to be reminded of the blisters from his new pointe shoes, but Jimin nods anyway.

“I saw”—Jungkook starts to dig through the oversized pockets of his cargo pants, rattling beneath the table—“these supplements.”

What he pulls out is a small bottle that can’t be holding more than four or five pills. The label has bold writing, terrible graphic design honestly, but Jimin squints across the table and sees GAIN WEIGHT FASTER written beneath the brand name and raises a curious brow.

For the couple of months they’ve been experimenting with Jungkook’s burgeoning weight gain kink and Jimin’s growing love for seeing, well… his love growing, progress has been slow-going. Jungkook laments his current skinny-fat phase near-daily; he wants to be big already, not having to settle for taking it one measly kilo at a time, and there’s only so much Jimin can do to help his boyfriend get extra calories, short of inedibly drowning their food in oil.

Truthfully, Jimin thinks Jungkook looks cute at his current weight, soft and pudgy and barely erring on the side of plump, just bigger enough for it to be a bit noticeable when he’s fully clothed, but he’s also a firm supporter of his boyfriend’s happiness and would never begrudge having more Jungkook, so he plays along. He’s heard of these dubiously legal supplements that claim to make your appetite grow, your metabolism slow down, and the resulting weight flow to more desirable places. He’s fallen down that particular Instagram rabbit hole before—he doesn’t blame Jungkook for wanting to give it a try at least. And hey, good on him for grabbing what seems to be a trial size first. Sound financial decisions look good on a boyfriend.

Jimin leans back in his seat, picking up his chopsticks again. “So it’s like an appetite stimulant? A ‘take it and hope it makes you hungrier and fatter’ kind of thing?”

Jungkook twists the bottle between his fingers, squinting at the small label. “Not exactly. I grabbed it because… well, it made the results seem kind of… instant? Quicker, at the very least?”

He slides the bottle across the table so Jimin can read the label in full. No real drug facts, no specified ingredients, just the promise of quick weight gain, some brief directions, and a generic warning about abusing medication. Rattling in his hands, there really are only a handful of pills inside the glass, which is more like the size of a bottle of facial serum than any supplement Jimin’s ever seen before.

Jungkook fidgets in his seat, radiating nervous excitement. “They only sold them in these tiny bottles, and… I don’t know, I probably just got scammed, but that made it seem more legitimate to me, you know? Like I wouldn’t need to keep taking them all the time?”

Sliding the bottle back, Jimin asks, “Did you ask the pharmacist about them?”

Jungkook shakes his head with a laugh. “I did self-checkout. I wasn’t about to ask someone with a PhD if a sketchy pill was gonna make me fat.”

Jimin can’t help the small snort he lets out as he finishes the end of his dinner. That’s just like Jungkook: impulsive, determined, almost single-minded in his dedication to gain.

 --

 After dinner finds them in a familiar position: Jimin comfortable on the couch, Jungkook planted over his lap, the two of them kissing feverishly. Jungkook’s foregone his flannel shirt, shrugging it off before he sat down and now in just his cargos and the t-shirt he’d had beneath that’s well on its way to too small. Meaning that it is too small, but Jungkook insists it still works as an undershirt. Where the t-shirt had been form-fitting before, it now clings to the round distension that is Jungkook’s stomach, sliding up to offer glimpses of his pudgier hips and belly whenever he so much as slightly lifts his arms. He’s not as small as he complains he is, but Jimin’s not about to stop him from letting himself get bigger.

Which must be on Jungkook’s mind too, because as he pulls back from a kiss, the bottle he’d put back into one of his pants’ many, many pockets rattles. He grabs it with one hand, the other keeping Jimin’s in place beneath the stretched hem of his t-shirt, fingers dug into pudge.

“Do you think I should?” Jungkook asks, eyes wide. “It says to take one tablet within an hour of a meal. It’s been… what, 45 minutes?”

Jimin tilts his head, mostly listening while also appreciating the spillage of flesh between his fingers when he squeezes Jungkook’s hips in reply. “Wouldn’t hurt,” he says, pauses, and amends, “Well, might hurt, but we’ll see.”

Jungkook uncaps the bottle, and nothing happens: no hiss of smoke, no immediate waft of poison. He upends a single pill into his hand and looks long and hard at it. It’s just a plain white tablet, indistinguishable from the various painkillers and supplements in their medicine cabinet. He stares at it for a long moment, shrugs, and pops it into his mouth, washing it down with the last sips of his can of Coke from dinner.

And nothing happens. Jimin would know if it did, hands planted firmly on the belly that would be stretching further outward if these pills worked as instantly as Jungkook had hoped, but there’s no budge except for the contraction of muscles when Jungkook swallows his soda. He stares downward, poking himself in the stomach so his fingertip sinks into soft fat, and his shoulders slump.

“I don’t know why I thought it would be instant,” Jungkook grumbles.

Jimin shrugs, moving one hand from his boyfriend’s still-just-pudgy body to card through his curls. “It’s the ‘go big or go home’ in you,” he says, letting his fingers cup a chubby cheek, guiding their faces back together. “Come on, relax. We’ll wait it out, see if anything happens.”

They kiss again, slower. Jimin lets his fingertips keep mapping out the cushioned planes of Jungkook’s body, slipping under his t-shirt and lightly beneath his snug waistband. Jungkook’s skin feels warm to the touch, more than usual, and he keeps squirming, differently to the way he usually does when he’s getting worked up.

“You okay, Jungkookie?” Jimin asks against his heated cheek.

“M’just—ngh—really warm,” Jungkook grumbles, stretching his back this way and that so his belly bucks Jimin’s chest. “Feel kinda bloated.”

Jimin doesn’t notice at first that when Jungkook tugs his t-shirt back down, it doesn’t quite go all the way—he just slides his perpetually cold hands up the back of it, letting them chill the overwarm skin across Jungkook’s spine, pulling him in closer and closer. He doesn’t really notice, either, that the pressure on his thighs is growing stronger, just blindly assuming that Jungkook’s finally relaxed so more of his weight rests on Jimin than on his own legs.

Jimin doesn’t notice anything until Jungkook makes a small grunt above him at the same time his hands start struggling to meet around his middle.

“Hyung,” Jungkook says, awed, a little pained. “Hyung, I think it’s—”

He doesn’t finish his thought, interrupted by a low whine that escapes his lips seemingly of its own volition. His belly juts forward, crowding his lap, pushing into Jimin’s torso, thick and heavy and so warm, so unnaturally warm that this can’t be anything but—

“It’s working,” Jimin finishes for him. “Holy shit.”

“Holy shit is right,” Jungkook gasps as his already too-small shirt continues to slide up his expanding gut, seams straining as his body starts spilling—really spilling, his once-perkily taut stomach now beginning to sag onto his thighs with doughy fat—out of it. He squirms as if pinned down by the constant motion of his body growing outward, trying to scoot his hips backward but instead accidentally grinding down where Jimin’s dick is taking clear interest. “Hyung, hyung, help me get off you, you’re gonna get crushed.”

Jimin does no such thing. He stays put, hands on Jungkook’s ballooning waistline now that it’s all he can really reach without his arms being forced apart by the growth, and moves his hands in slow, deep ministrations. It seems to make Jungkook relax, panic easing as it really hits him what’s happening.

“Hyung, I’m… I’m getting so fucking fat. Look how I keep growing, keep swelling, keep getting fatter. Am I heavy? I bet I’m so fucking heavy on you.”

It’s punctuated with a low creak, the elastic waist of Jungkook’s cargo pants stretched to its limits until finally, the plastic button just barely holding them shut breaks free, careening across the room to clatter against the wood floor somewhere between the living area and the kitchen. Unbidden, the mass of his gut flows through the open V left in the button’s wake, no longer held back by rigid fabric, free to rest on his legs that have blown up to the point of his pants—baggy before—fitting like sausage casings.

And he is heavy—is, quote, so fucking heavy. By the time the stretch and swell of him slows to a halt, Jungkook has to be twice the size he was when he sat down. His shirt that hugged his chubby stomach now barely passes beneath his chest, filled out like a crop top, the seams at the sleeves strained and splitting from Jungkook’s arms that had previously still held some tone and definition now gone flabby. Between his thick arms and his chest grown into plump, protruding tits, his arms don’t lower the way they used to—not like it matters with how Jungkook’s hands map his own body, picking up the upper roll his now double belly and sliding his fat, dimpled hands into the crevice it makes between itself and his lower belly. A lower belly that hangs so far out of his pants that it’s flowing between stocky thighs and pinning Jimin right to the back of the couch.

Not that Jimin’s complaining. He was the one who didn’t budge when Jungkook tried to climb off of him a couple of minutes probably 45 kilograms ago. The weight of him is heavy and grounding and, shit, arousing. He’s been mostly into Jungkook’s weight gain kink in that he probably has a Jungkook kink, attracted to him at all times and all sizes, but a double-sized Jungkook pinning him to the couch… it’s doing a lot for him. He wonders if Jungkook can even feel how Jimin’s rock-hard against his blubbery overhang or if there’s just too much padding in the way.

“Jungkook-ah.” Jimin tugs at one of the many rolls of Jungkook’s stomach—because there are rolls big enough to tug with his whole hand now, to pull him closer. “Baby, lean forward.”

Jungkook, hazy-eyed, seemingly entranced into a fog by his body grown so fat so quickly, blinks heavily a few times. “What do you mean?”

“Lean forward,” Jimin repeats, pulling him in closer. The heavy thighs caging him in and the massive gut pinning his lower half to the back of the couch don’t feel like enough. He needs Jungkook all over him.

Jungkook gets it this time. Hesitantly, checking Jimin’s face beforehand and going gloriously red when Jimin nods and keeps guiding him forward, he leans his upper half against Jimin’s, holding him down further into the couch cushions. In his lap like this, Jimin’s face-height with Jungkook’s chest, his rucked-up t-shirt that pushes up even further with his movements, revealing his chest, fat tits that Jimin buries his face between, biting at the skin, swirling his tongue around a hardened nipple just to hear Jungkook groan in that pained ecstasy that means he’s really into it.

It’s not the easiest to breathe with what’s probably nearly three times his own weight pushing his body down, but it’s easy enough for Jimin to still get worked up, grinding up as much as he can despite the pressure, despite the mass that is now Jungkook jiggling and quivering on top of him. He didn’t start putting in more weightlifting and core-building time when Jungkook decided to get fat for nothing.

By the time Jimin’s seeing white, Jungkook’s emerging from his horny haze too, eyes clearer and more mischievous as he leans back, letting Jimin breathe again. Very deliberately, he’s lifting his gut, dropping it back down—massaging his chest—grabbing the hem of his t-shirt so that it rips straight down the middle with how strained the cotton has become.

Quickly, they catch each other in another kiss. It’s like before, but it’s not—still Jimin and Jungkook, still hot and heavy, but Jungkook keeps having to take breathers, unused to the new weight on his body, and so does Jimin, unused to the new weight on top of his body.

Pulling away, puffing and panting, Jungkook laughs, low and rumbling in a way that makes his whole belly undulate. “Do you think this effect is permanent?” he asks, curious, maybe a little hopeful.

“I don’t know,” Jimin gasps in reply, heart thrumming. “If it’s not, you have a few more pills left.”

A nod. “And if it is?”

Jimin blinks at him through heavy eyes. “Then you still have a few more pills left.”

[toyybox]

Spiderwebs #15: Tape VIII (Fever)

Masterlist

content: lab whump, captivity, immortal whumpee, death wish, very brief discussion of addiction

It wasn't as bad as the vivisection, but it was close. A new point on that sliding scale of bad experiences. Jackie had never suffered through an illness before, but he thought this must have been similar—a smothering, constant pain, drowning out all other thoughts and sounds and sensations, radiating out from all over his skin. Different from the blooming, jagged pain of a deep cut, but no less tolerable. There was no way to shake off the heat. It came from somewhere inside him, deep below the skin, nestled between the veins. He barely noticed Heather's return.

"Get up. I have some painkillers."

"Cool." He staggered upright, shoulder against the wall to prop him up. Talking had become difficult, almost painful. Every motion of his jaw was comparable to speaking through barbed wire. He reserved his sentences to a few words. "I'm ready, doc."

She dropped a pill capsule onto the bed. It was a pale red thing, the size of a pin. He took it, pushing past his exhaustion, and placed it in his mouth. 

The water bottle was across the room. Swallowing it dry would be unpleasant, to say the least. Trying to walk all the way over there would be worse. Waiting the pain out would be at the top of a list of terrible ideas. Who knew how long that drug lasted? If Heather did, she wasn’t telling him. Wouldn’t want to interfere with the experiment.

Heather followed his gaze. “Want me to get that?”

He nodded the best he could, which was still a fairly weak movement. She walked out of his view, returning with the bottle. The cool metal was a welcome relief from the heat as it was pressed into his hands. He lifted it up. He swallowed. The temperature of the water was just as pleasant when it went down his throat. Jackie hadn’t realized how thirsty he was. He drank again. Then again.

“It should take five minutes to work.” Heather sat on the bed beside him while she spoke to the recorder. “Tape eight. Seven hundred milligrams of artificial opioid administered as of…” From the corner of his eye, she glanced at her watch. “One-thirty in the afternoon.”

He put the bottle down and held it there, on his lap. Already, he could feel the change, feel the heat dissipate. Even if it was a placebo, it was helping. 

Heather didn’t stare at him, but she didn’t move. It was an uncomfortable position, sitting next to her on the same bed. Not in a literal, physical sense. It was too close for his liking, was all. Too casual. 

Not that his captor respected things like personal space, of course. Still, her presence was alarming. So terrifying for such a casual scene. He expected a threat, but she was devoid of her usual violence. Motionless. Silent. No more than a few inches away. Saying nothing and doing nothing to break the perceived tension. Just waiting. Just another warm body, another beating heart.

While Jackie’s anxiety rose to a fever-pitch, Heather was untroubled. She looked bored, in fact. In her eyes, this meant nothing. He wondered what it was like, to do all these horrible things and not bat an eye. To keep a stranger in one’s home. To keep such a terrible secret under the floorboards, and continue living as before. Did she ever feel the weight of her sins? How heavy was his presence, forever rotting underground? How deep did that guilt run? Was it even real, or a performance to convince herself of her lingering humanity? To convince Jackie? She was such an impassive figure. Her desires and dislikes came as a surprise. He couldn’t unravel what this all meant. He couldn’t breach it.

“Time’s up.” Her voice startled him from his thoughts. “How do you feel?”

“Oh. I’m okay.” He cleared his throat. “Pain’s gone. I feel kind of numb, actually.” He touched a hand against his face. “Weird. I can’t feel anything.”

“Anything? Do you feel this?”

He glanced down. Her hand grazed his, and he hadn’t even noticed. It was an uncanny sensation—there was his body, and there was hers, but he might as well have been a spectator looking on. Even the feeling of heat had faded, along with the cold press of metal. Controlling his own body became unfamiliar, like controlling a puppet, every movement stiff and deliberate. 

He shook his head. She blinked in disbelief, and tapped his shoulder. Nothing. He gave her an apologetic shrug.

“How strange. The opioid has completely numbed the nervous system, according to Jackie. Do you really not feel anything?”

He ran a nail across his arm. It was like scraping rubber. ”Yep. Nothing at all.”

Looked like Jackie should have kept his mouth shut, because now Heather was getting ideas. He could see it in her eyes, a whirring hailstorm of ideas, a veritable sleet of thoughts and possibilities. Her pupils glinted, catching the light in the motion of her gaze, with all the slow, mechanical turning of a heavy-geared clock.

But he supposed there were worse things. He liked the feeling of numbness, actually. It was a nice break from the pain and heat. And if her deranged ideas killed him—well, Jackie would be nothing but grateful.

“Another trial will be needed, I think.” Heather played with the edge of the recorder. “With a drug this strong, I’ll have to be careful. I don’t know how much permanent damage will occur. Jackie, do you feel any fatigue? Headaches? Nausea?”

“No, I feel great.” 

“How great? Do you feel euphoric?”

“Euphoric?” He gave her a bemused smile. “No, just okay. You really got drugs like that, doc?”

“That’s classified information. For a good reason.” She narrowed her eyes. “Have you ever witnessed opioid addiction?”

“Can’t say that I have.”

“Thank your lucky stars, then. And don’t go around asking me for drugs.” She sat up from the bed, haughty as a cat with its head high and its tail up in the air. “You might feel some discomfort as the effects wear out, but it’s temporary. Today’s experiment is over.” The recorder clicked to a halt. “Enjoy the rest of your afternoon. We’ll begin again tomorrow.”

“Sure.” 

There was that funny feeling again. Enjoy the rest of his afternoon? How? Reading a little, drawing a bit, then laying in bed? That didn’t sound very fun. It wasn’t so bad, as far as being kidnapped went, but he still didn’t like it. 

Time appeared to stretch out, long and languid. A sort of cabin fever had descended upon him, like a leech to an open artery. His impatience burrowed deep. The days took on a distorted frame, with only Heather’s visits to punctuate them. 

When had he last seen the sun? He shouldn’t have started out so strong with that list. He shouldn’t have asked for so much. Jackie longed for sunshine, for fresh air, for a view that wasn’t concrete and cold. The yearning was a physical thing, heavy in his skin and bones, weighing him down.

“Hey, lady—I mean, Heather?”

She stopped midway on the stairs. “What?”

“About leaving the basement. I know I’m not in a position to ask for anything, but—“

“You’re going to try and run off the first chance you get,” she interrupted, leaning forward with a hand on the railing. “No.”

“I won’t, I swear. I don’t even care about going outside, just out of this room. I’m okay with walking around the house. Maybe looking out a window?” He stood up. “Say you’ll think about it, at least.”

For a long time, Jackie thought she wouldn’t answer. Or she’d come back down to make him regret ever asking. It was hard to tell with her, hard to know what would make her snap. And there was no way to take it back, once that fuse was lit.

“I’ll think about it,” she said.

And then she was gone. 

Jackie sat back down. He hated asking for such simple things. He hated the basement. He hated her. He wanted to shove a metal rod down her throat every time she said no or shut up. He wanted to punch her every time she pulled out that stupid tape recorder. 

He should have never gone to that gas station. He should have never spoken to her. He should have ran, let her shoot him if she wanted—even if he wasn’t immortal, what did he have to lose? His life? Like that was worth anything. Like that mattered. 

It was such a strange concept. Immortality. Jackie still couldn’t quite believe it. Some people would kill for a chance at living forever. All those bathers at the fountain of youth, all those alchemists searching for an elixir. But those people had pleasant experiences with life. Everything Jackie saw only convinced him that he was better off pushing daisies. Yet that choice had been taken away from him, just like every other choice and freedom. He was not even allowed the dignity of death. 

Well, then. That was depressing. Wasn’t getting him anywhere. Wasn’t doing him any favors. I’ll think about it. Such an answer was better than a flat-out no, wasn’t it? Besides, who was Heather to taunt an immortal? He had seen the face of death and socked it in the nose. He had touched the void of no return and laughed. Heather was a cardboard cutout compared to him. Heather was nothing.

Happy Halloween! (in 4 days)

Taglist:

@theelvishcowgirl

@lthrboy

@whumpy-wyrms

[blood-loving-leech]

uh, big tw for a rant abt my sui attempt and like complete detail so definitely don’t read it unless you’re in a good state of mind please ily all maybe don’t read it at all actually idk i just needed to get it out and pretend someone actually cares

also it’s very long

today last year i went back to school after a fantasy dream trip to California with my dad for sailing

i sat down in my math class and i realized i hated my school, i was failing at everything i used to be good at, i had lost all my friends, my ex had ghosted me for a week and a half, my teachers thought i was weird for bringing a teddy bear to school in 10th grade, and my parents were always dissapointed,

i was worth nothing to nobody, and i had pills in my backpack

so i sat through my math class, and my chemistry class, and then i went and sat in my hallway for lunch, alone

i sat there with my pills in one hand and my bear in my lap and i stared at them, and i stared at them, and i held my bear, but before i could let myself chicken out i swallowed em without even taking a sip of water and then my hand was empty

and i panicked for a minute

i thought about going to the bathroom and purging

but then i calmed down, i just sat there with my bear for lunch, and felt numb, id have cried maybe if i could, but i couldn’t

tbh i didn’t think there were enough pills to kill me actually i just was kinda hoping they would anyway but two periods later i could feel it

it was really cold, like ice, like slowing down, and i started thinking about my childhood, i wrote a story for my english class that day, 5th period, about a person drowning in an icy lake, remembering all the warm days they’d lived, and my tablemates loved it, they were asking question about like, what it was about, and i just told them i didn’t know

i spent 6th period trying not to pass out and failing, it was so cold even with all my sweaters, from the pills and all the weight i’d been losing, my hair was greasy and my clothes were dirty and i was slumped over in my seat in the very back of spanish thinking “maybe ill actually really die after all”

i went to drama club after school and sat in the crappy auditorium chairs and wrote two letters, one to my parents telling them i didn’t expect the pills to kill me and one to my ex, one i never sent, it’s still sitting in my room sealed in an envelope with two of his favorite teas, im too scared to read my desperation but i can’t throw it out either

i went home and i set everything up on my desk in case i really did die and i finished the day and went to bed not really expecting or at least kind of hoping i wouldn’t wake up, i didn’t even say goodbye to my ex, or anyone else, there wasn’t anyone else to say goodbye to anyway

but i woke up the next morning and on the walk to my bus stop i was furious, i was miserable, and i was numb, i watched the pine needles pass under my feet and i could only think about how fucking stupid it was that i was still alive, and i learned nothing from the previous days fear because i told myself that after school, after therapy, i was going to take the rest of my bottle that was in my room

and yeah

idk

i’ll make another post about the hospital cuz fuck

but like

that was a whole year ago now

i remember all of it

and now it’s this year

and i’m still alive but like

nothing has really changed and honestly? what the fuck

why does nothing change

why does nothing get better

why didn’t i get help? was i not sick enough? why have i had to try and fail over and over again to pull myself out of that hole with only a therapist who got fired and a therapist who quit and a doctor who said im too fat for an eating disorder?

i mean what’s the fucking point

[ethereousdelirious]

Final day, let's GOOOOOO

Sicktember 2023 Day 30

Prompt: Patient Zero

Fandom: Pok.émon

Characters: L.arry, H.assel, R.ika, G eeta

Notes: P.oppy is mentioned a few times as the aforementioned "patient zero" but does not feature in the story

A plague had come to the Paldea League.

Poppy had been the unwitting carrier, drawing them all in with her big, wet eyes and adorable little sniffles. And they were all a bunch of suckers: picking her up, fussing over her, making sure she was as comfortable as possible before her parents arrived to pick her up.

The drama had put them behind schedule on all the work they'd been procrastinating and dammit, it really had been the perfect storm. Overwork, deadlines, and poor time management combining to leave them all helpless targets.

Larry closed his eyes against the glare of his computer screen and coughed into the tissue he'd been holding against his nose.

The coughing had been nonstop, if not from him then from one of his compatriots packed in their sorry excuse for an office. The thin cubicle walls separating them were a joke, offering only the barest suggestion of privacy.

An ear-splitting alarm joined the symphony of coughs, rattling Larry's brain.

"Hey," Rika said hoarsely, "who has the meds?"

Larry sniffled and considered his desk, where a half-empty bag of cough drops gaped at him. "What meds?"

"Uhhh..." A long pause, filled by Hassel's booming dad sneeze. "Fever reducers."

"I have them," Hassel said, and sniffed. His head popped up over the cubicle walls followed shortly by Rika's.

Larry stood as well and regretted it when the room rocked. "Can I grab a couple?" he asked, steadying himself on his desk. Damn. This sucked.

Rika, who had already taken the bottle from Hassel, nodded and shook two pills out into Larry’s hand.

Larry, seeing that he was out of tea, dry swallowed them. “How’s Patient Zero?” he asked, clearing his throat.

“Don’t call her that,” Rika said weakly from behind a tissue. “She’s doing better.”

“Kids bounce back fast,” Hassel said, and ducked his head to sneeze behind his cubicle wall.

“Unlike us,” Larry rasped. He swallowed thickly around the sensation of knives in his throat, then glanced down at his monitor. Even after reducing the brightness and maximizing the font size, looking at it still made his head throb like a Machamp was squeezing it. “I need more coffee.”

“You don’t need coffee,” Hassel said. “You need water or a nice herbal tea.”

“I’m sick of herbal tea,” Larry said. He’d never been much of a tea drinker and he must have had at least two gallons of Hassel’s chamomile blend today. Every time he blinked, there was more in his cup, syrupy with the amount of honey added.

“You’re definitely sick,” Rika said, and gave a laugh that was as weak as the joke.

“You guys want anything?” Larry asked. The break room had never been well-stocked, but there was still plenty of tea and honey.

“I’m good,” Rika said, sinking into her rolling chair. She leaned her head against the cubicle wall, looking extra pale and sickly in the cool fluorescent light.

“You look good,” Larry muttered. “Hassel, anything?”

“Please.” Hassel passed over an empty mug. “Could you get me some water?”

Larry would have nodded if he hadn’t been so lighthead. “Got it.”

He picked up his own mug and took a few cautious steps away from his desk. His aching body protested even that slight movement, but he pressed on. Slow, slow, slow. That was the key. Otherwise, he’d surely topple over.

Despite his precarious balance, he took the long way around the mass of desks and cubicle walls in the center of the room, picking up his feet so he didn’t trip over any of Poppy’s toys. She hadn’t had the energy to pick them up yesterday and damned if any of them were going to nag her.

She’d worsened so fast it had been kind of scary to watch-- one second she’d been a ball of energy like usual, the next and she’d been crying, red in the face.

Actually, yeah, it made sense they’d all caught it. There’d been a lot of snot and coughing.

When he finally reached the door to Geeta’s office, he paused to catch his breath. Geeta had made herself scarce after entering late in a storm of breathy, half-muffled coughs. How she was getting through this misery without anyone to complain to, Larry had no idea. She'd barely emerged from her office all day.

Tucking an empty mug under his arm to free up a hand, Larry knocked on the door. Geeta usually kept an open-door policy, but she’d sequestered herself away today.

“Come in,” she said, sounding just as raspy and stuffed-up as the rest of them.

Opening the door revealed more or less exactly what Larry had been expecting: Geeta, her skin a waxy olive color, sat upright at her computer as though nothing was wrong. She wore this shared affliction like an extra bit of clothing, like it was an aesthetic alone.

“Hey, boss,” Larry said, leaning on the doorway.

Geeta continued typing, her screen flashing in the reflection of her glasses. “Hello, Larry,” she said coolly, though her voice was shredded. Pausing, she looked up at him. “How is everyone doing?”

Larry had to double over and cough before he could answer and behind him, Hassel and Rika echoed the sentiment. “Peachy,” Larry choked, wiping his streaming eyes on the back of his tie.

“And Poppy?”

“Rika said she’s doing better already.” Unlike us, he added silently. It really wasn’t fair that the one who’d infected them all was already doing better, but it was Poppy. It wasn’t like Larry could really begrudge her a quick recovery. It had been so heartbreaking seeing her come down sick.

“Good.” Geeta smiled briefly before schooling her expression. “Is there something you needed?”

“M’making a run to the break room,” Larry said, gesturing with the mug in his hand. “Want anything?”

Maybe it was that Geeta’s mask had slipped a little or maybe the fever had sharpened up Larry’s perceptions, but he saw the conflict on her face, the split second of consideration that gave way to her usual stoic smile. “No, but thank you, Larry.”

He surveyed her desk. Cough drops, a half-empty water bottle, some sort of poisonous-looking all natural energy booster drink. “When was the last time you ate?”

“Earlier,” Geeta said vaguely, and resumed typing.

That was as clear a dismissal as any.

Larry turned and resumed his slow walk to the break room.

[sonderrow]

A journal entry. 04/??

The second time was the worst cliche ever. I was a freshman at college, and already adulthood was hitting me like a ball. Fun time is ending. The second I was getting this diploma, I would drop everything that wasn’t of use. Preparations would be over, the reason why I was born, what I should do as a human being, would start. I was always good dealing with pressure, I didn’t have to wonder about it… yet, somehow, something inside me started to well up.

It wasn’t only the lost of appetite or the sleepless nights spent on nonsense or partying. I couldn’t understand. It was like when your mind is made up for a challenge, but your body doesn’t follow. When you feel the nerves of a limb when it is actually gone. I would type words, my head would throw sentences at me, fancy ones with a nice diction for extra credits. Extra studies let me be ahead of others.

I was always good dealing with pressure. Just thinking of it as futile and letting myself focus on work was fine.

I was always good dealing with pressure. It increased as I went to higher studies, that’s why there were frat parties. You could always get a nice person to help you soothe all the stress out of you. I, for once, always preferred the closeted perverts at the library or at the pool while I was training, instead of the sluts and jocks. Nice people, lack of experience, heart easily swayed. One may laugh at me for not aiming higher, but a good mind, healthy body and a nice voice was everything I needed. Thinking about it, it was as fun as a freshman than as a senior. The former let others’ guard down when targeting my young peers, the latter gave me a position of authority and admiration. It made everything much more enjoyable. Now, everyone think I’m a womanizer. I believe I can count everyone I became intimate with on just one hand. Their body was one thing, but the better was stealing their heart. Something I enjoyed when I let my mind off things.

I say that with huge fancy words, but I just did whatever I felt like. And sometimes this felt like was wanting to go see that kid who was always trying to reach the highest shelf.

I liked the little ones who skipped classes and had some sort of odd disorder. So easy to confuse them. And to this day, people still believed I was just being nice to people who were different.

I couldn’t do anything, I had my goal straight ahead, and things were going so well, yet nothing followed. And so what was the worst cliche to do? I emptied every pill I could find in the dormitory, I sneaked and stole whatever drug from the junkies I knew, and swallowed a whole bottle of rum. A good one at least. Dark. Spicy. The kind that was the tastiest, while the bottle was still cold.

I think my memory may have deleted how hard I buzzed before I quickly passed out. I think my brain didn’t like it. And since I locked my room, I was pretty sure I was going to end it here, like a loser. My one and only loss until now, in my heart… but I had to win. Because I had the curse of a winner.

See, for some absolutely idiotic reason it seemed before I passed out and probably foamed my mouth like a damn whale, I got into the hallway and then near the entertainment room, where, as I was surely not myself, I got transported to the hospital. Students in medicine even took extra care of me. One of them was the kid that had hard times reaching shelves was the one who saved me. And I decided to not ever see him again.

[casspurrjoybell-27]

In a Heartbeat - Chapter 19 - Part 2

*Warning Adult Content*

Vince

I woke up screaming.

Maybe I should've been grateful that it was a dream but it didn't stop the panic that consumed me.

I could feel it, the claws, the pressure around my neck.

It still felt real, even though I knew it was a dream.

They weren't here, they weren't in the pack.

'Everything was fine,' I was telling myself.

It was everything but fine, the fact that they weren't in the pack was more terrifying.

'Where was Simon? Michael? Michael already planned on killing him years ago, what if this wasn't just a dream?'

If Simon really was dead, that would've explained why it felt so real but I was still here, everything seemed normal but the fact that they were both out there and that I didn't know where they were was unnerving to say the least.

I sat up, covered in sweat, the sheets were half thrown on the floor, the lamp was on its side and I was alone.

Sarah was nowhere in sight, her belonging and knickknacks were gone.

Even the pictures of us were gone, I guess she had moved out soon after we argued yesterday.

I shouldn't have been so surprised but after that fiasco last night, I could have used some comfort, even if it was unwanted.

That was then when the pain set in, it was just as bad as the nightmare, sharp, shooting pain from my head to my back.

Then the dizziness set in, the whole room was spinning, nausea rolling in.

The pressure in my chest was growing, breathing became a chore but I fought through it, rolling off the bed with a thud, I crawled towards the bathroom.

'I needed the suppressants, then, this pain would subside,' I thought.

The Betas would see me as weak if they saw me in this state.

I needed to be back to normal quickly, like this damn nightmare never existed but how could I forget that stupid dream, when it felt so real.

The haunting look on Simon's eyes as he let out his last breath or that horrifying glare Michael gave.

I struggled to prop myself up with the bathroom counter, leaning on it heavily just to grab the damn pill bottle.

After hearing approaching footsteps, I quickly swallowed a handful of the suppressants, not even caring how much I actually needed.

Risking a glance, I flinched at the sight of my appearance.

I looked like utter shit in the mirror, the sweat-soaked my entire shirt, my hair looked like I had just gotten out of the shower and I looked like I aged ten years.

All because of some nightmare, anger shot through me.

Why was I so bothered by this?

I shouldn't care what Michael does to Simon, right?

What kind of Alpha gets freaked out about death, about their own brother?

When I glanced again at the mirror, all I could see was Simon's lifeless body on the floor, Michael standing over him.

I screamed, then punched the glass, my hand bleeding from the shards.

At some point, I could hear someone walk in but all I could see was Michael's stupid grin in the millions of shards in front of me.

I couldn't breathe, couldn't think, couldn't even hear what the person next to me was saying.

I was panicking and I couldn't make it stop.

I needed to know that Michael was nowhere near Simon or I'd probably lose it.

So when the person turned me to face them and I saw Lucas standing there, something in me snapped.

Maybe I was so shaken up by what happened in the dream but I didn't want anyone to touch me.

Gripping the collar of his shirt, I shoved him up against the door frame.

"Where? Where is he?"

"What?"

I shoved him again, my body shaking with rage.

"Where is he?"

"What?" he gritted out.

"Vince, what are you talking about?"

I saw Xavier from the corner of my eye approaching us, trying to get me to loosen my grip but I shoved him away.

"Hey, easy, Vince."

I snarled in Lucas's face, getting in his face.

"You... you were supposed to be watching him."

"Who are you talking about?" Xavier demanded, shoving at me till I loosened my grip on Lucas.

"Simon," I said lowly.

The two of them seemed to flinch at his name, which made me angrier.

"What happened?" Lucas gulped before interrupting.

"What happened here, Vince?"

"Answer the God-damn question," I gritted my teeth.

Xavier cursed before answering,

"We lost him."

"What?"

"We lost track of him," he admitted.

"He took off after our run-in yesterday. The both of us looked for him for hours, Vince."

"This wouldn't have happened if you had stayed at the bar," Xavier continued.

"You know, like I told you too."

I let out an angry huff, the small cuts on my hand starting to sting.

"Does anyone have eyes on Michael?"

"No," he replied.

Xavier gave me a pointed look.

"Does this have anything to do with your screaming and outburst with the mirror?"

"He's going to kill him," I said.

"He said that years ago, Vince," Lucas frowned.

I growled lowly.

"I saw it. He's going to kill him. He killed him in front of me."

Xavier pursed his lips before asking,

"A vision? You don't get those, Vince. Your suppressants. You sure it wasn't just a nightmare?"

"It felt so..." I hesitated.

"It felt so real."

"That's not a vision," Lucas interrupted.

"Visions are of things happening currently. They're not of the future. It's probably just a nightmare."

"No," I snarled, reaching for his collar again but Xavier held me back.

"I could feel it. It hurt. Why would it hurt this much, even now?"

Xavier grabbed hold of my arm, and as much as I wanted to yank it away, he held it firmly.

"I'm not sure, cause I've never experienced it but it probably has something to do with the bond. As much as you hate to admit it, I think it's still there. Maybe it's trying to tell you something."

"No," I dismissed it.

"Just, someone get eyes on Michael, make sure he doesn't do anything stupid."

"I don't think he wants Simon dead, Vince."

Xavier frowned.

"Surely, he would've already killed Simon by now if that was the case. I don't think that this nightmare of yours has anything to do with that."

"He's going to kill him," I insisted.

"And you better hope you find him before Michael does because if you don't, Michael won't be the one you two have to worry about."

[tpwkxxangel]

Sleepy Baby

A/N: hi! this lowkey accidentally happened to me when i was sick and forgot i took two Benadryl previously and took two more not even two hours later. sooooo this is the product of that

Summary: Harry is a big name mafia leader but he has the softest spot for you. You're his favorite girl. So, when he gets home from a business meeting to find you unresponsive, he goes crazy....

or

the one where Y/N takes a sleeping pill to get to sleep on the night Harry has a dangerous meeting and everything goes very very wrong.

word count: 2.7k

[warning: pills/drugs, language, violence, angst, anxiety, guns, mentions of death]

*note: if you feel like you will find this in any way triggering, please do not read. your mental health is more important then this fic*

Tired. Endlessly tired.

That’s been your life for the past few weeks. Harry has been in his study and going in meetings more lately. If he had a normal job, this wouldn’t bother you nearly as much, but he is one of the most notorious mafia leaders in London, so it’s a...little different.

Every time he steps out of the house, he is in danger, and that plays on your biggest worries. What if something happened to him at these meetings? What if he didn’t make it home to you?

That fear and worry is what lead you to do exactly what you did that morning.

The only time Harry has left his office is for his morning runs. That’s when you decided to take your chance. Your heart was racing in your chest as you crept towards his desk.

It wasn’t that Harry was secretive with his work. He just preferred to keep you away from everything. You tried to get him to talk to you when he was stressed about things, but he doesn’t want you involved with anything.

When you made it to his desk, he had scattered papers everywhere. Without touching anything you looked across the piles and found a sheet of paper with names, contacts, and duties. Exactly what you were looking for.

That was last week. You got what you needed and tonight, with Harry gone, your anxiety is skyrocketing. There is something he hasn’t been telling you and in his line of work...that’s utterly frightening.

“Ugh,” you throw your head to look up at the ceiling as if it would have answers. The bottle in your hang feels heavy and foreign, but it seems like the only way you will get some much needed rest now that Harry left for his meetings.

The usual guards on the compound do not come in the house. They only serval the property for any potential threats, so you are completely along with your thoughts and the bottle of pills in your hands.

This is the only way. You tried everything you could think of. Every alternative has not worked, so the only option you have is to use pills that are meant to get you to sleep.

You did your research though. Temazepam.

That’s what you asked for. You would usually need a prescription for that kind of drug, but having a mafia leader as a boyfriend had its perks...even if he has no idea you got a hold of them. The drug is highly addicting but you would only use it when your anxiety gets too bad when Harry leaves, like tonight.

The pill isn't that large. It's an ominous white color, and your only way to get some sleep tonight. You take a deep breath and walk into the kitchen for a glass of water. Harry left about three hours ago and won't be home for at least another four. When you fill the glass, you throw the pill back and swallow. A shiver runs down your spine at the feel of it going down your throat.

Rolling your shoulders back, you decide to get a midnight snack before heading to bed where you will finally fall asleep tonight. After looking at the pantry for a few minutes, you spot your favorite pretzels on the top shelve. You carefully climb up the step stool that Harry bought for you and grab the bag. When you get down, you misjudge the distance and twist your foot in an odd angle

Some pretzels fly out of the bag and land on the floor. You groan in slight pain, but not enough to feel like it's broken. Without stepping on the pretzels, you carefully make your way to the refrigerator to grab the cream cheese. When you open the door, you feel a sudden wave of dizziness.

Has it been an hour already?

A quick glance to the clock tells you it has only been fifteen minutes since you took the pill, but a black fog is luring you into droopiness.

Your throat starts to feel tight and breathing becomes one of the hardest things. Since when did you have to focus on standing upright so much?

You drop the cream cheese and pretzel bag, making an even bigger mess than before but your only focus is making it to your room to sleep on your bed.

One foot after the other is your focus. You barely register your hand clutching to the wall for balance, or the way the pictures fall and shatter on the floor.

Everything starts to get blurry quickly. This isn't how this was supposed to go. This was supposed to be peaceful and now you are stumbling through the house trying not to succumb to that pull in your mind to just give in.

The darkness in the corner of your eyes starts to fade more into view. You can see your bedroom door pushing open but it seems almost out of body at this point. All you have to do is get into the bed.

Right as you reach the bed, you smile. The world finally stopped spinning for a brief moment...only for it to go black a second later.

~~~

Harry has had one hell of a night. The past few weeks have been more stressful than usually because he found out some lower level member has been messing with his packages. Something seems to be going on, but the harder he looks, the less he sees. It's entirely frustrating.

All he wants to do is cuddle with you and watch your favorite movies. You are his biggest weak spot and that's the reason he works so hard to keep you out of everything. He doesn't want you hurt in any way.

When Harry, Niall and Liam all pull up to the gate leading to the house, they greet the night guard and receive the nightly report.

Nothing out of the ordinary. Y/N went to the mall to get a new sweater and then to their favorite takeout for dinner.

Harry can't wait to get back inside to give you a quick cuddle before he gets back to work.

"I think Tony is onto something," Liam says as they walk up to the door.

"I was thinking the same. He said Jones was receiving way too many calls lately for this to be a coincidence. Honestly--" he stops mid-sentence.

Harry looks up at the two men who seem frozen in the doorway. Suddenly a chill ran up his spine at the sight of his two best men frozen with a look of alert on their faces. He quickly pushes past them to see, and he nearly drops to his knees at the mess of the place.

There is shattered glass everywhere in the hall. The refrigerator door hangs open, shining light on the food spilt everywhere. It looks as if a struggle took place in his kitchen.

All three men draw their guns, ready for anything they might encounter. Well, not anything. The past few months you and Harry have been together, all the men in his inner circle completely fell under your spell. Everyone you met, including Harry, has grown to adore you in such a way that they would do anything to make you happy. It's been such a nice change since it was not like that before you met Harry.

They all step forward throughout the house checking everywhere for any sign of danger. When Harry gets to your bedroom, he takes a deep breath before slowly opening the cracked door.

Harry has seen some of the most gruesome things a person could think of, things that cause grown men to develop nightmares, but seeing you laying unmoving on the floor with haunt him for the rest of his days.

He quickly holsters his gun and runs to your side.

"Y/N?" he carefully shakes your body, taking in any physical harm.

When you don't respond to him, his stomach drops. This is his worse nightmare. You where hurt when he wasn't here. Before he can work himself up much more he hears Niall and Liam walking into the room.

"Boss?" Niall quietly asks, knowing how close to seeing red Harry is.

Harry looks their way, a storm brewing in his green eyes. They zone in on the item Liam his holding out to him. It's familiar. The orange bottles are standard. The bottle looks exactly like a normal medical grade one, but that was exactly what it was supposed to look like. It was the lid that he was looking at. The classic white lid held his symbol on it. These were his pills.

He quickly stands up to grab the bottle looking to see what it was. Liam seemed to beat him to it.

"It's Temazepam, H," he grunts out, "But there's something weird about the pill. It's not the same as the ones we get in the shipment."

Thoughts rush through Harry's brain a mile, a minute. Pieces of the missing puzzle seem to fall into place. He looks at his two men and they already know what he was going to say. They nod and leave the room to make some calls.

He turns to you, still peacefully out on the floor. His honey baby...

"Oh, Y/N," he sighs, picking you up and placing you on the bed, "What did you get yourself into?"

Niall and Liam will track down the seller and Harry will deal with the traitor in the morning.

Harry kisses your head softly and pulls the covers over the both of you. Yes, he is extremely pissed right now, but he wants to be there for you now even in your state.

~~~

A rhythmic tapping is the first thing you start to notice. A tapping that seems to intensify when you focus more on coming out of that peaceful fog.

"Ugh," your throat too dry for you to do much more than groan.

Every muscle in your body seems to protest when you attempt to move and you instantly regret everything from the night before. There are other ways fall asleep than taking those evil pills. Nothing is worth this feeling.

"You're awake," a deep voice startles you from the corner of the room. You squeeze your eyes shut in pain after you whipped your head in that direction.

You slowly open you eyes again to see your Harry...no. Not your Harry. Your Harry smiles with his dimples in the morning and kisses your nose. Your Harry has a carefree air around him and brightens up every room he is in.

This version of the man you love is the mafia leader. The Harry Styles, cutthroat leader who doesn't take any shit from anyone. He is holding the bottle you bought last week and you know there is no way to take yourself out of this. You gulp down your nerves before sitting up. Every muscle is screaming at you to lay back down, but you know he won't take you seriously if you are vertical like that.

Over the time in your relationship, you have only fought with Harry once. He was being an asshole, as usual, and you yelled at him then made him sleep in the guest room. He seemed fine with it at the time, still trying to keep his pride, but came whining like a little puppy at 2am begging you to forgive him.

This was not going to be like last time.

You sigh before opening your mouth, your voice comes out croaky from the dryness, "H, I know you're mad--"

"Mad?" he interrupts in a chilling voice, "Mad is when you don't text me when you make it home from a shopping trip right away. Mad is when you don't understand how important you are to me." He uncrosses his legs to lean forward with his connected hands on his knees. "This is furious."

You flinch back at the word. He did not yell. That wasn't his style. You meet his eyes trying to convey how sorry you are.

He carefully gets up and goes to the table in the corner of your room to grab a glass waiting there. "I thought you were smart, Y/N?" he grabs the pitcher of water harshly before pouring the glass, "Honestly, this has to be the stupidest thing you have ever done! And the worst part is, you could have died! How do you think I’d feel if I lost the love of my life?" His words came out strangled as his emotions started to come out.

“That’s rich coming from someone who literally leads a gang and sells cocaine for funzies,” you huff out, grabing the water glass and chugging it down.

“What did you just say?” Harry meets your eyes in a fury.

“I said,” you square your shoulders “You’re one to talk.” A single tear falls down your cheeks. Everything from the past few months seems to pile up and is just ready to break out of the cage you placed it in.

“Baby,” Harry sighs, some of his fury leaving him. His features seem to soften as you try to hold the tears in your eyes back.

“Maybe if I knew what was going on half the time, I wouldn’t worry as much but you keep me in the dark Harry!” your voice raises with the emotion coming from it, “You have been working nonstop the last few weeks and leaving at all hours of the night. You know I have trouble sleeping when you’re gone,” you sit back on the bed and finally let everything you’ve been holding in, out, “H, I’m so scared that one day when you leave, you won’t come back to me.”

You feel the bed dip to your right, and then his strong arms are around you, stroking your hair.

“I didn’t realize you felt this way,” he kisses your hair, pulling you close.

You sigh and lean into his hold, “I should have told you sooner. It’s just...I have trouble with sleeping when you aren’t here. I tried everything. This was just my last option.” Harry isn’t sure what to say right now, so you continue on. “I watch you leave every night and only hope you come home in the morning. Harry this is exhausting and the worst part of all of this is that I feel left out of a big part of your life. I get that what you do is dangerous, but you don’t tell me anything! I know something has been going on the past few weeks and you won’t let me in! What am I supposed to do?”

It’s quiet for a moment. You stood up in the middle of your speech to start pacing. All the thoughts in your head are scattering around and you aren’t even sure you made sense.

“Y/N, baby,” he meets you where you are and his thumbs catching a few stray tears, “I just want you to be safe,” he brings you tight to his chest, kissing your forehead.

“I want that for you too,” you whisper, afraid that anything louder will cause another meltdown. You hear him sigh before pulling back to look at you again. His face is unreadable for a moment before he closes his eyes in resolution.

“Is what you said true?” Harry asks. He continues when he sees your eyebrows drawn together, “Do you really feel left out of my life when I’m trying to keep you safe from that side of me?”

You pause to really think about it for a moment. It’s not that you feel left out, or that you even want to be a part of the mafia, but you want to be with Harry in every way possible. You want to be someone who he leans on for everything... including this.

“Yes,” you nod confidently, “You aren’t as scary and mysterious as you think you are Styles,” you laugh cheekily.

A wicked smile graces his lips. You never missed a meeting after that.

[sparklysung]

✨SWALLOW YOUR WORDS – l.d.h.✨

© sparklysung – 2021. all rights reserved. no reposts, modifications and/or translations allowed.

pairing – lee donghyuck x female!reader

genre – smut | non-idol!au, enemies to lovers!au

warnings – switch!donghyuck, switch!reader, lap dance, cumming in pants, grinding, dry humping, cum eating, hair pulling (giving and receiving), spanking, mirror sex, protected sex (reader’s on the pill), degradation, dirty talk, bondage (belt), possessiveness (i guess?)

word count – 6.043 words

summary – it only took a couple of words to make the blood boil in your veins and being the competitive individual you are, you had to prove lee donghyuck, your all-time enemy, wrong.

note – not my best, probably could've done better, but oh well. also this was frkng hard to write, damn, and i may have changed things a bit? BUT, i think it's better like this so… hope you enjoy! btw, i got the idea while reading this, so go check it out –it's good–.

taglist – @prvncejxon, @iwishihadabettername

another friday night wasting your time at some random classmate’s party. you were everything but happy to be there. you didn’t even want to go there in the first place, only finding yourself sitting on the kitchen counter, drink in hand and an ugly scowl adorning your face, because of your annoying best friend.

“hey, i get it, you didn’t wanna come here when you could have been peacefully sleeping in the comfort of your room, but come on, at least try to have some fun. you’re already here anyway.” eunbin –aka your annoying best friend– said, pouting her lips in a failed attempt of looking cute.

you kind of felt bad for her, you suppose it wasn’t exactly easy to deal with your lazy ass. but still, she was supposed to love you and appreciate you just the way you were.

and most of the time she did, just not in this specific situation.

“this isn’t fun at all, i just wanna go home. there’s nothing in here for me at all.”

you brought the red plastic cup to your lips, taking a sip of the bitter liquid eunbin had mixed for you. you weren’t lying, there really wasn’t anything that would make you want to stay, only a few friends of yours getting drunk somewhere in the big house you were currently in.

“come on, please, stay for me,” eunbin fake cried, and for a moment you thought she was going to give up and let you go. “in a bit the guys are gonna play something fun! we should join them, please?” as her last resort, she looked at you with puppy eyes. she was playing dirty and she knew it, you both knew you couldn’t resist them.

giving in with an exasperated sigh, you jumped off the counter to get yourself another drink from the bar in the living room. you were minding your own business until you heard him, the last person you wanted to see at the moment.

“so, i’m telling you guys, she was literally begging me to fuck her, she even moaned while sucking me off–,” donghyuck’s obnoxious voice filled your ears, making you roll your eyes. he was surrounded by a couple of other guys you didn’t know so well but were sure you had seen them before around campus hanging out with him.

“shut up already, dongdong, no one wants to hear it.” you interrupted, walking past him and towards the half empty bottle of vodka on the bar counter.

the group of boys stopped abruptly, all of them turning to look at you, ready for the scene that was going to take place in matter of minutes. donghyuck’s attention also turned to you, biting back a triumphant smirk with a raised eyebrow. he could see past you so he didn’t mind the mocking nickname you used; he could tell you were trying to irritate him enough to make him go away. but he wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon. he had been eyeing you all night, trying to find ways to get under your skin to catch your attention. and finally, after staying at a safe distance for a while to not spark suspicions, he got what he wanted.

��why so feisty, babe.” the cocky smirk he gave you just made your blood boil, the growing desire to punch it off his pretty face only getting stronger the more you stared at him.

“don’t you get tired of talking shit all day?” you barked, eyes trained on his body while pouring yourself a good amount of alcohol.

you were certainly going to need a lot of liquid courage to get through the night.

“you boast about girls begging for you but i think you’re just trying to hide the fact that you’re the one who has to beg to get laid.”

“i don’t beg, baby.” you rolled your eyes and muttered a ‘sure’. “also, if you’re jealous of me fucking other girls you just had to say it. i wouldn’t be against giving it to you instead.” the stupid wink he threw at you made your body shake in anger, already fed up with the conversation.

“you wish, asshole.”

“actually, i do.”

donghyuck was so fucking annoying, always teasing you and never leaving you alone. your personalities clashed constantly resulting in fights filled with screams and curses, sometimes to the extent of interrupting the class and getting the two of you kicked out of it. he enjoyed watching you struggle and suffer due to his awful pranks, so you were his favorite target. you couldn’t even have a proper date with anyone because he made sure to mess it up either by scaring the crap out of the guy or sabotaging your plans. he almost completely ruined your love life and cockblocked you forever.

you did not get along and everyone knew it.

although eunbin thought it was pure sexual tension and you just needed to get your frustrations off of you with a good fuck.

it wasn’t though.

or was it?

“let’s go hang out with the guys,” your best friend nudged your arm excitedly and you sighed, not feeling like playing anything with them. every time you decided to give in and take part in ‘something fun’ with the guys, it always ended up with you either in trouble or scarred for life.

you had a bad feeling about this all.

“ugh, fine.” she cheered and pulled you through the crowd of drunk people until you reached the basement.

the sound of laughter and screams drowned the music blasting upstairs, there were empty bottles of alcohol sprawled all over the floor and tables and a circle of people in the middle of the room. both of you joined the group with you sitting between eunbin and mark, a close friend of yours that you sadly shared with donghyuck. while you casually chatted and played around with the boy, happily laughing the night away, you could feel a pair of eyes burn holes into your skull. you didn’t have to look up to know who those eyes belonged to, as said person wasn’t even trying to dissimulate.

and by said person you meant donghyuck.

donghyuck hated the way you leaned on mark’s body, how you let his friend rest his head on top of yours and wrap his arm around your waist.

he was jealous, really jealous of your close friendship with the older boy.

mark and you had been friends for a long time now and you could even consider him your best friend, so you were comfortable around each other. you usually hugged, held hands and cuddled, he was used to you wearing his clothes –half of your closet were stolen hoodies that once belonged to him–, he even had a spare change of clothes in his room just in case you decided to drop by for an improvised sleepover. so it wasn’t surprising when sometimes when the two of you hung out on your own, people –even your friends in common– mistook you as a couple.

and the idea of you two dating made donghyuck feel sick to the stomach.

“we’re playing truth or dare, who wants to start?” seoyeon, one of your friends, spoke while looking around for someone to volunteer.

“i’ll go.” lucas raised his hand and everyone nodded, not minding.

the game went smoothly for a while and eventually, the more alcohol everybody drank, the crazier things got. mark ended up getting dared to lick whipped cream off of yuta’s chest and xiaojun had to cross-dress and dance on a table. everything was fine, you hadn’t been picked by anyone yet so you were pretty much having fun just enjoying the show.

until someone called your name.

“y/n, truth or dare?” jaehyun asked with a smirk.

he had an evil glint on his eyes making you feel suspicious. you knew you couldn’t choose truth or else everyone would make fun of you for being a pussy. and jaehyun just knew you well enough to know you weren’t going to let that happen.

you weren’t one to back down.

still, the way he stared at you made an uneasy feeling settle in your stomach.

what could he possibly have in mind?

“dare.”

seems like your gut feeling was right after all.

“give hyuck a lap dance,” jaehyun said immediately after the words left you mouth, making everyone in the room shake, some in excitement and some –you– in anger. donghyuck wasn’t expecting to take part in the dare, but he really wasn’t complaining either. “thank me later babe,” his shit-eating grin only adding fuel to the fire.

fuck.

just as eunbin, donghyuck could sense the sexual tension. and unlike you, he acknowledged it.

but for him it wasn’t just that.

you two had known each other –or at least acknowledged each other's existence– for a few years now, since high school. he was forced to see you almost every day at school, so, naturally, fondness for you started growing slowly in his chest. but it wasn’t until you both left for college that your ‘enemies’ label was established.

and if someone thought he may possibly like you, they were damn right.

he did.

it all started during freshman year, when he tried to befriend you during one of the classes you shared. you seemed irritated by his advances and wanted him away from you, so after a few attempts of softening your heart, he resolved that the only way to stay close to you was annoying the hell out of you.

childish? yeah. he cared? not really.

“come here, babe.” donghyuck tongued the inside of his cheek, a smirk forming on his lips. as he saw the grim look on your face, he sprawled his legs, patting his toned thigh invitingly, eager to get things started.

the look jaehyun gave you had ‘you’re not backing down, are you?’ written all over.

“shit, i hate jaehyun, why did he have to do me dirty like that?” you mumbled angrily to eunbin and she just laughed, finding the situation way funnier than you.

“maybe tonight won’t be as boring as you thought? maybe you’ll end up getting laid.” she wiggled her eyebrows suggestively and you only scoffed, “shut up, dumbass.”

“why did you have to do me like that, huh?!” you almost screamed at the older, taking a mental note to beat him up later. he just shrugged and threw you a wink, “asshole.”

mark patted your back to help you relax, he could see you weren’t exactly happy about your dare.

“come on, which song would you like, my lady?” lucas asked, scrolling through his spotify for suiting songs.

“or nah!” yangyang answered before you could even open your mouth. just as you were about to ask for a less sexual song, cheering erupted through the room.

everyone was pumped, adrenaline running through their veins and pushing them to do stupid stuff they would probably regret the next day after waking up hungover. and things just took a rather interesting turn, so they obviously were excitedly awaiting the next series of events.

yay, more stupid memories to regret later.

on the other hand, donghyuck was as doomed as you. he knew the song well, he knew the lyrics by heart but what he didn’t know was if he could control himself with you basically dry humping him in front of a bunch of people to the rhythm of it.

he wasn’t sure it was a great idea.

as soon as you got up to complete the dare, you heard cheering and clapping. and you weren’t going to lie, you wanted to throw yourself out of a window.

breathing deeply in an attempt of relaxing to just get it over with, you made your way towards donghyuck until you were standing a few feet in front of him.

as the music started playing, you started moving. running your finger on the surface of his clothed shoulder, you walked slowly around him, like a predator circling its prey. he tried not to follow your movements, already getting anxious by your closeness and nervously waiting for your next move.

i’ma smoke this joint then i’ma break you off.

i’d be lying if i said you ain’t the one.

you pushed his legs open and settled between them. your hands rubbed his thighs teasingly, fingers drawing closer to his crotch but not quite getting there. you took your sweet time feeling him up, softly scratching his strong arms and leaving red trails behind. donghyuck was so into it, enjoying the sight of you kneeling before him so much that his pants were already starting to feel tight.

heard you not the type that you take home to mom.

is we fuckin’ when we leave the club or nah?

i ain’t spendin’ cash for nothin’ i wanna see you take it off.

and oh how he wanted to see you take it off. all night he couldn’t take his eyes off of your figure, you looked really good in the outfit eunbin had chosen for you.

so good it was almost making him drool.

you sat on his lap, hands going to caress his toned chest and stomach. it was well-known that donghyuck exercised frequently, but it still surprised you. he felt so good you had to bite your lip to prevent a sound from coming out.

when you shifted to sit closer to him, his hands flew to your hips and you could tell his intention was to move them lower to grope your ass, but you weren’t having it.

do you like the way i flick my tongue or nah?

you can ride my face until you’re drippin’ cum.

“if you try to touch me again, i’ll tie you up,” you said with a sweet smile plastered on your face, grabbing him by the wrists and harshly dropping them away from you. donghyuck let out a startled gasp at that, obviously not expecting your attitude. with his hands twitching to grasp anything, he went to grip tightly the sides of the chair.

can you lick the tip then throat the dick or nah?

can you let me stretch that pussy out or nah?

your hips ground against his crotch at such a slow pace that donghyuck was having trouble not pushing you down on him faster. he was getting embarrassingly hornier as seconds passed and wanted nothing more than to fuck you right then and there, even with his friends’ eyes on you both.

donghyuck tried so hard to restrain himself from touching you. he wasn’t one to follow orders, but he tried just for you, he really did.

i’m not the type to call you back tomorrow.

but the way you wrappin’ ‘round me is a prob.

and everything was fine until you kissed him. synchronized gasps filled the room, the sudden show of affection confusing everybody. not even your intoxicated self could understand what the hell were you doing nor who you were doing it with. his breath got stuck in his throat, heart thumping against his chest at an alarming rate. his hands almost tried to bring you closer, but he realized what he was doing on time to stop himself.

he finally broke down when your mouth sucked on his tongue, making his hips grind up against yours unconsciously as his hands grabbed you by your waist, pressing your body flush against his.

that was it.

“you asked for it,” your movements came to a stop as you took off your black leather belt, sticking to your threat of tying him up if he didn’t quit it.

pussy so good, i had to save that shit for later.

took her to the kitchen, fucked her right there on the table.

“oh shit,” donghyuck stirred under you trying to get out of the situation.

this couldn’t be happening.

“no, please,” he whimpered as you fastened the belt until it was wrapped tightly around his wrists, locking his arms behind his back. your audience was unable to hold in their surprise, some mouths falling open. he fought against the restraints to no avail, desperate to free himself, “please, let me go,” he cried out quietly, not wanting the other occupants in the room to hear him.

“stop complaining or else i’ll also gag you,” you spat harshly in his ear, done with his attitude, and he swallowed hard. as you nibbled on his lobe, you felt a strong sense of confidence. it made your chest swell in pride to see the usual big mouth jerk with a smug grin constantly attached to his face falling apart under your touch.

seems like he was the one to beg, after all.

you moved your hips to the rhythm of the music, making sure to press harder against the sensitive tip of his cock, which was already leaking precum. although you weren’t an expert, you’d given a fair share of lap dances, so you knew what you were doing.

and donghyuck could certainly tell.

don’t play with a boss, girl take it off.

take it for a real one.

you gon’ get it all.

“whose bitch are you now, huh?” donghyuck couldn’t speak properly, way too hot and bothered for his brain to come up with any smart-ass response.

you tsked disapprovingly at his lack of response.

“when i ask you a question, you answer.” your fingers tangled in his hair and with a harsh tug you forced him to look up. donghyuck was dazed, lips swollen from you biting on them, eyes glassy from arousal, and mind clouded with lust.

“yours.” he whimpered quietly, forgetting momentarily about your audience.

“good boy.”

you loved how easy it was for you to break him and leave him wanting more, to have him so putty in your hands. specially since hearing comments of other female classmates about donghyuck teasing them almost till the brim of tears was part of your day-to-day life. it felt like you were getting revenge for all of them, so you were enjoying it a lot more than anyone could imagine.

your plump lips trailed down the length of his neck, leaving wet kisses along his honey-like skin, and he threw his head back to give you more access. as you licked, sucked and bit the flesh, donghyuck could hear his heartbeat loud over the music. he usually wouldn’t let a girl suck hickeys on his skin, but the idea of you marking him while everyone watched was rather exciting.

he swore the seconds passed slower than usual. you were just halfway through the song but he didn’t know if he could survive any longer.

donghyuck felt light-headed and painfully aroused, and he wasn’t going to last long if you kept kissing him and moving your hips the way you were.

“i’ma go as far as you let me,” your movements became slower to tease him, making the poor boy want to cry in agony. his jeans felt way too tight to be comfortable and he hoped everyone could just leave you two alone to take it off.

“shit, please,” donghyuck’s eyes closed, head falling forward and hanging low as drops of sweat slid down his forehead. the room felt like an oven and he didn’t know if it was a result of the significant amount of people in such a small space, the alcohol, his choice of clothing or your body pressed closely against his.

probably the latter.

girl, is you sucking me or fucking me or nah?

can i bring another bitch? let’s have a threesome.

“keep saying you’re a freak, you gon’ prove it or nah?” you quietly sang along, pulling his face closer by his hair and grinding down on him harder.

donghyuck was going crazy, he had never expected you to be so sexy, to behave so dirtily. but he loved it, and by the prominent tent in his pants, everybody could tell he was in for the ride of his life.

you’s a ride-or-die chick, you with this shit or nah?

say you not a side bitch, you all-in or nah?

you gon’ make them eggs cheesy with them grits or nah?

you brought him in for a hot kiss that left his head spinning.

donghyuck was growing restless as his climax neared, he was so close he could almost taste it. he couldn’t remember when the last time he got so close to cumming only from some teasing was.

everything was happening so quickly he wasn’t able to stop himself before giving in to the pleasure.

“h-holy fuck,” with a shaky moan that you swallowed, donghyuck shot his load, staining the crotch of his dark jeans. you could feel the wetness seeping through the piece of clothing and dampening your bottoms. his hips gave a few more sloppy thrusts, legs shaking weakly and cock twitching from the confines of his jeans, before falling limp on the chair.

or nah.

as the song ended, he came down from his high. you freed him from the iron grip of your belt, the skin on his wrists was red and slightly swollen. you may have tightened it too much in the heat of the moment, but you weren’t apologizing after giving him probably the best orgasm of his life.

the bewildered expression on his face quickly turned grim as it hit him.

he came in his pants like a fucking teenager.

in a room full of people.

in front of his friends, yours and you.

his friends stood there, both confused and surprised to see donghyuck so affected by your touch. nobody had expected things to end the way they did.

“damn, are you okay my man?” johnny asked, laughing at his friend’s flustered state.

“shut up,” donghyuck answered bitterly. he shot up from his seat, grabbing your hand and shoving you inside the nearest bathroom in the house. he didn’t even care to cover the wet spot on his pants, walking with his chin up and a scowl plastered on his face.

and blame it on how riled up you had gotten from the feeling of his hard dick pressing against your needy pussy, but damn, he looked good.

“i wanna go next!” hendery spoke excitedly. you couldn’t tell if he was just messing with you or if he actually wanted you to give him a lap dance too. either way, it made your lips turn upwards in a smug grin.

once you both made it to the bathroom, he locked the door before pushing you against it, back pressed flush into the hard piece of wood. the ambience took a 180 turn, your confidence faltered slightly at the sight of his angry form.

“you think it’s funny, yeah?” he hummed angrily in your ear. “you think i’d let you do whatever you want and embarrass me in front of my friends just because you feel like it without payback?” the look on his eyes getting darker as the words left his mouth.

“if so, oh baby, you were so wrong.”

trying to test him, you decided to answer.

“you’re all bark and no bite, what else am i supposed to think?” you smirked devilishly when you saw him clench his jaw.

“you’re gonna regret being a brat,” his slender fingers wrapped themselves around your waist and with a harsh tug, he pulled you closer to attack your lips, biting and sucking on them, making your legs wobbly. he tasted sweet and bitter at the same time, probably from the liquor he had been drinking all night, and you couldn’t seem to get enough. his lips were soft and plush as they mingled with yours, teeth roughly clashing and tongues fighting for dominance, “am i?”

donghyuck hissed through his teeth as he unbuckled his pants, letting his cum-covered shaft spring free. he was already hard and you unconsciously rubbed your thighs together to ease some of the tension building up between them. his hand shot to your throat, tightening his grip until you couldn’t breathe properly, before forcing you on your knees.

donghyuck tapped his hard and heavy cock on your lips a couple of times before speaking. “open up, slut,” and you did as you were told, parting your lips and poking your tongue out, waiting for him to slide in.

but he didn’t.

he wanted you to lick him clean, he wanted to see you do as he said, follow his orders like a good girl without complaints.

“clean the mess you’ve done. now.”

the harsh tone of his voice sent a wave of arousal straight to your core. your hands immediately shot up to grab a hold of his length, but before you got too close he stopped you. confusion was written all over your face and for a moment you worried he had changed his mind.

“no hands, i want you to work on it only with that dirty mouth of yours.”

with your hands gripping onto his thighs, your tongue swiped from the base to the head of his cock, eagerly licking him clean. once you had swallowed every drop of his cum, your mouth took him whole, hollowing your cheeks, one hand massaging his balls. donghyuck threw his head back as yours bobbed at a rapid pace, the tip of his cock reaching the back of your throat as you swallowed around him.

when he was about to cum, he pulled away from your mouth, making you whine at the loss. wrapping his hand once again around your throat like a beautiful necklace, he forced you up on your feet. he turned you around before pulling you closer by a rough tug. your clothed ass pressed against his dick, a mixture of his arousal and your saliva wetting the cloth. your hips ground back to both tease him, desperate to feel something, anything. his hands went to the front of your jeans, rubbing his fingers over your clothed clit and a whimper fell from your lips.

“more, i need more,” you pleaded, the barrier of clothes making the feeling less pleasurable.

he surprisingly complied without resistance, dipping the digits under the restricting cloth. a deep groan vibrated against the side of your neck when he felt the wetness that had been gathering inside your panties since your dare.

“look at you, so damn wet,” his mouth watered at the feeling of your needy heat. at this point, donghyuck knew everyone had an idea of what you two could possibly be doing, and although he would enjoy returning the favour by eating you out to his heart’s content, there wasn’t enough space nor time to do so comfortably. but he swore he would make it up to you some time.

“for who is it, baby?” the answer was obvious, but still, he wanted to hear it directly from you. he inserted one long finger until it was knuckles deep inside of you and you let out a squeak, head falling back onto his shoulder.

“for you donghyuck, all for you.”

“that’s right, slut, only i can make you that wet, only i can touch you like this. you’re mine, don’t forget that,” he inserted a second finger and pumped them deeply into you.

“yes,” you breathed out softly, too far gone to fight back with a snarky remark.

although his fingers felt good and you could possibly –with a bit of an effort– cum just from them, you still wanted more. you wanted to feel the nice stretch of his cock tearing your walls apart.

“please, donghyuck.”

“what do you want?”

donghyuck knew what you wanted. fuck, he wanted it too, so bad. he had been waiting for an opportunity like this for a long time and now that he could finally have it, he was going to make the best out of it.

“fuck me,” your core ached to be filled so you swallowed your pride and spoke out.

“condom?”

“we don’t need it, i’m on the pill,” you rushed, stomach twisting and turning in excitement, “please, just fuck me.”

donghyuck’s eyes turned darker, lust clouding both of your minds with the only desire to fuck each other stupid. he pulled down your jeans so they were pooling on your ankles and went back to pump his fingers inside you to make sure you were ready to take him. as he entered you, you had to lean on the sink in front of you to hold yourself up or else you would have faceplanted the mirror.

“you feel so good, fuck, so fucking tight,” donghyuck growled when he was balls deep in you.

whimpers fell from your lips from the delicious stretch of his thick cock. after a few seconds of you adjusting to his size, you backed your ass into his hips to let him know you wanted him to move. he gave a couple of thrusts to test the waters before picking up his pace and you gripped the sides of the sink as he pounded into you. his mouth worked on your neck while you brought one of his hands under your shirt to play with your breasts.

“such a pretty sight, don’t you think?” he tugged harshly at your hair to force you to look at your reflection on the mirror, thrusts never faltering.

your makeup was ruined; lipstick smeared messily all over your lips from the hot make-out session, neck full of bruises donghyuck left to claim you, shirt pulled above your breasts displaying your puckered nipples while one of his big hands grabbed your boob as they bounced with every hard snap of his hips.

“you have no idea how many times i had to control myself not to pounce on you,” his eyes never left your quivering reflection, completely in love with the way your frame molded with his, “every single time you couldn’t keep that pretty little mouth of yours closed and all i wanted to do was shut you up with my cock.”

“f-fuck,” his thrusts turned rougher as his free hand wrapped around your neck, tightening his grip and amplifying the mind-blowing sensations he was giving you.

your asscheeks slapped against his hips, which drilled against you at an unhuman pace, hitting the right spots with every snap and making your eyes roll to the back of your head. you couldn’t keep your mouth shut, loud moans threatening to fall from your lips so you slapped your palm over your mouth to muffle your sounds.

“don’t, i want to hear you,” he gave a particularly hard thrust to try and draw a sound out of you, “i want you to be so loud that all of our friends know what we’re doing, i want them to know how good i’m making you feel.”

specially mark.

but he wasn’t going to tell you that.

“h-hyuck,” you couldn’t hold back the broken moan that fell from your lips, pleasure overtaking your body. your hands gave in and you almost fell forward, but donghyuck reacted sooner and pulled you by your hair, holding you up.

“address me properly, brat,” he growled in your ear. you felt a hard slap on your ass, the skin of the abused area stinging from the impact.

“i’m sorry… fuck, donghyuck,” your cries went straight to his dick, urging him to fuck you harder. he kneaded the flesh soothingly before spanking it again and again until you could make out the imprint of his big hand on your asscheek.

“f-faster, please,” you pleaded in a whine and he tsked, shaking his head, “such a greedy little slut.”

“what would everyone think of you if they could see you so eagerly taking my cock, mm?” donghyuck hummed, “begging for me to fuck you until you can’t walk properly?

shocks of pleasure shot through you, his dirty talk helping you reach your release faster than you anticipated. his grip on you was so tight you were sure you were going to be sore the next day. your moans turned pornographic as you neared your release, your walls squeezed around donghyuck to the point he was unable to move, so he started drawing circles over your sensitive clit to help you get off.

“let go, baby.”

and soon, his touch threw you over the edge, causing your body to shake and a broken moan to fall from your lips, legs weak as your whole weight only relied on your arms for support. he followed shortly after, grunting as he filled you up with his warm and sticky essence.

as he pulled out, a mixture of your slick juices and his seed leaked from your abused hole, dripping down your inner thighs. his fingers slid over to gather the drops of cum and opposite to your assumption, he didn’t push it back inside of you but brought the digits to your face, waiting for you to open your mouth.

“suck.”

and you did, eyes locked with his through the mirror as your tongue swirled around his fingers to lick them clean.

“fuck,” donghyuck sighed, “i didn’t know you were so dirty, sweetheart.”

and the teasing comes back.

“do you want me to remind you how i made you cum in your pants back there in a room full of people?” you rolled your eyes in disbelief and he just let out a breathy laugh.

“whatever. either way, even if they didn’t have the pleasure of fucking you or at least seeing you get fucked, they surely could hear you from how loud you were screaming my name.”

“good thing mark now knows who you belong to,” the words slipped out of his mouth before he could think and both of you shared a look of pure shock.

“did you just mention mark?”

“…no?”

“you did! what the fuck? were you jealous of mark?” you asked, eyes wide as you remembered the disgusted look on his face when you and mark got too touchy with each other during the game.

“i am jealous of mark.”

“what? why?”

“oh my god, you’re so dense.”

“shut up, i’m not.”

“yes, you are. i like you dumbass, that’s fucking why. why wouldn’t i be jealous if you two act like you’re dating but always deny it when questioned? i can give you my hoodies, i can cuddle you and hold your hand, i can spoil you with cute stuff. i can be your boyfriend, it doesn’t have to be him.”

everything was so weird.

you were supposed to be enemies for fucks sake.

but he looked cute with pouty lips.

“well, you sure have got a damn weird way of demonstrating it.”

“shut up, okay?” donghyuck snapped, done with trying to get you to shut the fuck up. “i just didn’t know how to approach you or talk to you at all, alright?” he sighed, a scowl forming on his face. “you always seem to be angry when i’m around.” the change in his voice shocked you, it was much softer now, as if he was afraid of you hearing it.

“hey, don’t beat yourself for it, alright?” you sighed, feeling bad for being so mean to him for no reason. because you really didn’t have a reason. whenever you weren’t at each other’s throats and you got time to observe him from afar, you saw how caring he was with his friends, even if most of the time he annoyed the crap out of them.

donghyuck actually seemed like a good guy… if you ignored his teasing.

maybe you didn’t hate him as much as you thought.

“so, would you be my-,”

suddenly, the sound of banging on the door resonated through the room.

“are you done already? i need to pee.”

you quickly fixed your clothes, embarrassed by the presence of someone outside the door waiting for you and donghyuck to get out and momentarily forgetting about the boy’s proposal. just as you were about to open the door and get yourself the fuck out of the situation, his arms wrapped around your waist to pull you closer and whisper to your ear in a way you could feel your panties get damp once again.

“we’re not done yet, princess.”

–lia:)

[averagewriter-inthedark]

Tea With A Hint Of Honey 🍯 | Loki One-Shot

Marvel Masterlist | other masterlists

Pairings: Loki x avenger!gn!reader

Warnings: good ole fluff | gn!reader is ill, they/them pronouns | unedited

Premise: The reader is feeling sick and under the weather, making their God of a boyfriend care for them. And there’s nothing like some good ole tea with a hint of honey to do the trick.

—————

Being sick was always something Y/n hated. It put them off the job for days, they felt miserable on hells doorstep. Not to mention they didn’t want to get near their partner Loki in fear of getting him sick, but the God always said he was immune to Midgard illnesses.

So it didn’t surprise Y/n when the man of the hour waltzed into their room with a bowl of soup and coffee mug. The Avenger rolled their eyes, bringing the Kleenex up to wipe away residue on their nose. “I thought I told you to stay away from me until I get over this, Loki.” Their voice was hoarse and full of congestion, eyes a little red from rubbing at them all day.

The God smiled, ignoring the glare they were giving him. “I know what you said, love, but what kind of partner would I be if I let you go through this alone? Let me take care of you, Y/n.” He set the tray on their lap, motioning for them to sit up. Y/n went to grab the spoon next to the bowl but Loki taps their hand away going, “ah-ah-ah,” like a parent would to a child, “let me do that.”

Y/n huffed, frowning at the God who brought a spoonful of chicken broth to their mouth. The liquid was hot, making them flinch back a bit at the sudden feeling. The broth was soothing against their throat, and although it made their nose run even more from the steam blowing in their face, Y/n sighed in pleasure. It was already making them feel a little better.

“Thank you,” they mumbled, still feeling upset at having to be taken care of. Their pride was getting in the way of just letting the God help them. “Although I could’ve managed.”

Loki chuckled, bringing another spoonful to them. “You’re welcome, darling.” He continued feeding them until the bowl was emptied, before placing it back on the tray. There was a small bottle of medicine beside it, the God picking it up to drop a few pills in his palm before handing them to Y/n.

The Avenger popped them in their mouth, swallowing without hesitation. When Loki went to grab the mug, they stopped him. “Can at least drink whatever it is you’ve given me without any help? I don’t want you spilling it on me.” He rolls his eyes, but obliges. They take the hot mug in their hands, feeling the warmth of the liquid beneath their palms and bring their lips to the rim. “Tea?” They ask with a smile, aware Loki knows how much they love the tea he makes.

He smiles back, fondness in his eyes. “With a hint of honey. Just how you like it.” He goes to move the tray, placing it on the nightstand beside their bed before gesturing them to scoot over. Y/n does so, holding the mug tight in their hands and Loki climbs under the covers, bringing them to his arms.

Y/n settles into his arms, sipping happily at their tea while looking up at Loki with a smile. “How did I get so lucky?”

“I think the lucky one is me, my love.”

Y/n chuckles, despite feeling a little drowsy and nestles against him with their head under his arm. “Who would’ve thought you making tea in the morning and offering me a mug would lead us to here, huh babe?”

He could still remember it clear as day, during the days he was just getting settled into Avengers tower and not really having anyone besides Thor to keep him company. That all changed when Y/n returned from an assignment, looking so exhausted the God couldn’t help but offer to make them some tea to help with the headache they had.

“If I would’ve known where it would end up, then I would’ve offered much earlier than I did.” Loki smiled down at them, pressing a kiss to their head. When Y/n fell asleep ten minuetes later after finishing their tea, the man could only admire them. Feeling his heart soar with warmth and happiness.

The God had found love, and it was all because of tea with a hint of honey.

[bestiesenpai]

Canidae - Geto Suguru

Ah, my first hybrid au and full on yandere piece for jjk! A momentous occasion, I hope everyone likes it lol, femme reader btw. 7.5k words

part two

Content warnings: pseudo-incest, yandere shit, kidnapping, not a/b/o but there’s mentions of going into heat, size difference(although I’m not sure how well I wrote it), talking about a past murder(but no actual killing), choking, stalking, dumbification, kind of shy/skittish reader, drugging(w/ pills and w/ a syringe), brief mention of drug usage, needles, slimy men...there’s a lot of slimy men in here

(S/N) = stage name

It’s been about two months since you ran away from home. You try not to think about it, but in the quiet moments of the day, the hours that you should be using to sleep before your next shift, during meals and even at work, it creeps up like a sickness that just won’t leave.

You hadn’t wanted to leave your home, even if the people there weren’t really your family by blood. After being adopted by the Getou family in your late childhood, you thought life would get better. They seemed like a wonderful family of fox hybrids, all silky black hair and cunning little smiles. Although they weren’t in your same species family, as a house cat you could get along with them easily, a subtle praise to evolution for making foxes more like cats than dogs.

“Hey house cat, stop sulking by the bar and go talk to customers.” A slap on the wall next to you jolts you out of your thoughts and into the loud and bustling world around you.

“S-sorry boss.” Ducking your head away from your furious boss, you adjust the skimpy shorts and crop top that truly did nothing to hide your skin. Working at a seedy hostess bar wasn’t exactly the plan when you ran away, but they were the only place willing to hire you.

Looking out across the crowded bar floor, at least you didn’t have to worry about going out on the street and handing out flyers to get customers tonight. There were several men of different species and ages, sitting at the bar with dark liquor or having pretty bunny girls pour drinks from overpriced bottles at private tables.

Taking a glance at what table you’d been assigned, your stomach twisted in knots. It was a table full of lion men, their business suits wrinkled beyond hope and their manes even more disheveled than what was normal for a lion.

“Hey pretty kitty!” One of them shouted drunkenly, waving a large clawed hand at you as you shuffled closer.

“H-hello.” Giving a nervous wave, you felt a little better at seeing a coworker - a red panda hybrid - sitting between a few of them.

“Ah this is (S/N), she’s a newbie!” The girl, who called herself Fuyumi, announced. Holding up her glass in salute, she took a sip.

“Fresh meat huh?” Suddenly, all eyes were on you again, but the atmosphere shifted. A predatory look was shared between the group and a few men got up to let you slide into the booth, next to your coworker.

“What a pretty little thing you are.” A lion purred loudly next to you, putting a heavy hand around your arm and squeezing your shoulder.

“T-thank you! Let me- let me pour you a drink?” Shrinking under the weight and his lecherous gaze, you grabbed the liquor bottle they ordered and refilled a few drinks that needed to be topped up. Your ears were pressed flush to your head from the nerves, tail slightly puffed up behind you.

“So, your name is (S/N)?”

“Mhmm!” The stage name was something you thought of on the fly, trying to make it the least like your real name as possible. Accepting a drink from Fuyumi, you tried to ease the anxiety pricking at your skin.

Listening in on a story being told by one of the men, you tried to act like you were paying attention. Faking a smile, laughing loudly and keeping the drinks full - those were the only things on your mind. Not the clients walking by being escorted to secret back rooms or the people so obviously snorting something up at one of the tables in the back.

“(S/N), you’ve been quiet!” The man with his arm around you shook you side to side, his eyes falling to your breasts moving and being squished together when he squeezed you to him. “Tell us about yourself!”

“Uhm-” Taking a quick glance at Fuyumi, you cleared your throat. “Well I’m new to Tokyo-”

“Do you have a boyfriend?” He cut you off, an eager look in his eyes. You shook your head obediently. Even if you did have a boyfriend, you couldn’t say yes. You had to be seen as attainable, just within arms reach if they wanted to have you for themselves.

“That’s good, the boys in Tokyo won’t do you any good.” A man to your left chimed in. His shirt was unbuttoned, showing off his hairy chest covered in golden fur. “But the men in Tokyo are a different story.” He winked at you and you forced a giggle up, covering your mouth with your hand to hide your slight displeasure.

“Yeah, what you need is a man, (S/N). You seem so nervous!”

“House cats usually are.” Fuyumi piped up. Grabbing your chin, she pursed your lips with the tips of her white painted claws. “Isn’t that right?” Cooing at you like a baby, she shook your head and turned you to face the men at the table. “(S/N) was so nervous for her interview she nearly cried!”

A round of mocking teases sounded at the table as Fuyumi let go of you, some of them calling you a ‘poor baby’ while others offered to buy you another round of drinks to help you feel better. Your face burned, embarrassment and the close proximity of all the bodies around you making a light sheen of sweat glisten on your skin.

“I’m fine now, though, promise!” Biting your lip, you did as you’d practiced before your shift: putting an arm under your breasts, you pushed it up and tilted your head down, looking up at the men from beneath your lashes. “I feel much better with all these big strong men here.”

It made you sick, the way they all leered at your body and visibly adjusted the front of their pants. Ordering a few more bottles for the table, the sick feeling refused to leave. It clung to the back of your throat, rising bile that refused to be swallowed down.

Hours later, as the sun began to rise and proper members of society were starting to head to work for the morning, you were finally done with work. The table of lions had bought your time for the whole night, their egos boosted by your show of submission.

“You actually did okay tonight, house cat.” Your boss grunted, thumbing through the cash she was counting. “Here’s your cut.” Holding out a handful of bills, you knew better than to question how much was in it. The last time you’d tried to speak up about being shorted, your only window was shattered by a brick and it cost all of your money to fix it.

“Thank you.” Nodding politely, you took it from her hand. It felt slightly larger than normal, but you knew it wasn’t the full amount you’d been promised to receive when you started working. There was always a bit taken off the top, and since you were a newbie, even more.

Quickly changing into baggy sweatpants and a hoodie, you slinked out of the club's back entrance with your hood drawn tightly. Located in the red light district, no one batted an eye at you or where you worked, but it wasn’t them you were worried about.

Running away from home meant running away from the only family you had left, an over controlling big brother with an obsession. An obsession with you. Ever since you met, got adopted all those years ago, he had been infatuated with you.

As a young, freshly teenaged fox, suddenly acquiring a little sister had been exciting. Especially when it turned out you weren’t the same species. He always wanted to be around you, ask you questions about what it was like to be a cat. At first they were innocent, asking about your diet and favorite toys, but as he got older, his interest in you skewed.

You saw the search history on his computer, he spent hours researching cat hybrid heat cycles and when the best time to mate was. He started to go through your phone, taking it away from you under the guise of just being an annoying older brother while secretly looking through all your messages. Always getting jealous if you hung out with friends or didn’t want to sit in his room with him. And his friends knew about his obsession, feeding into it and talking about how much they wished to have a little sister like you, and if he’d be so kind as to share.

Your older brother became more obsessed with you while he was looking for a job after university. Spending hours applying for jobs and going to interviews, he wouldn’t shut up about getting a good job and moving out with you. And when he finally got that good job he always mentioned, that’s when you had to run.

Walking with your head down through the streets, waiting at a crosswalk to pass had you on edge. Just remembering the way he held your hand in public with a grip tight enough to cut off circulation had you shoving your hands into your pockets. A couple walked across the street with their arms around each other, and suddenly the suffocating weight of your brother's arm around your waist as he slept in your bed with you was back.

Forcing air through your lungs, you ran the rest of the way home. It wasn’t a long way to the crummy apartment block you called home and you were inside your cramped studio space and crumpled against the door in no time.

It didn’t always feel good to be in here with it’s water stained ceilings, barely usable pipes and the one, barely big enough window near the front door. You could hardly call it a home, it was just a room with the mattress you bought second hand and the clothes you ran away with strewn across the floor with a tiny kitchen shoved into the corner and a bathroom that surely wasn’t up to code.

But for now, it felt amazing. Your running had only exacerbated the exhaustion you had from working such grueling hours, and just crawling over to your dirty bed took all the energy you had left. With the sun beginning to rise properly into the sky, you closed your eyes and went to sleep.

The sudden alarm from the crappy phone you bought was what woke you up, the early evening sun and the sound of your neighbors yelling at one another through the walls pulling the last few bits of sleep from the edges of your mind.

And so do the set of crystal blue eyes staring in at you from your window, one that not even you can see out of because it’s too high.

“Sat-” The name catches in your throat, and when you blink again the eyes are gone. Rushing out of bed, you rip open the front door and look up and down the hallway. But there’s no one there, no bright white arctic fox fur to be seen, and certainly not the man attached to it.

Gripping the door tightly in your fingers, you linger in the threshold. The longer you stayed out, the more the vivid eyes watching you sleep became a memory, something your overworked mind must have conjured up as it went from sleeping to being awake. With a shaky sigh, you step back into your apartment to get ready for your next shift.

Meandering through the busy streets, you passed by shops that were starting to become familiar to you. There was the odd convenience store, a few illegal gambling dens with restaurant fronts, strip clubs and sex shops.

With time to kill before your shift, you dashed into a convenience store, it’s stark fluorescent lighting a nice switch from the everchanging neon signs outside. Scrounging up what little pocket change you had, you bought the cheapest food possible and sat down at the tiny table near the windows.

Eating slowly, trying to savor not only every bite but every minute before going back to work, a flash of white caught your eye as the convenience store door was opened. The little jingle that played was the only indication someone had actually entered, you barely saw the door open or close.

You could only see a glimpse of the pure white, not even a full on look. Glancing over your shoulder, you didn’t see anyone standing in the aisles, no ears stuck out to give you an indication as to who had come in.

But there was the feeling of being watched that had you on edge. When you turned fully away from the window to look at the store behind you, there wasn’t anyone watching you, yet the feeling still stuck. The target on your back had just been shot dead center, a sharp pang of fear gripped your heart the longer you looked at the seemingly empty aisles.

“Long way from home, little kitten.” A familiar face emerged from your right, but it wasn’t the man you thought it was.

“N-nanami?” It was a shock to see him in a neighborhood like this, his pristine suit more fitted for the financial district a few train stops over that he sometimes visited for work. He was in his usual suit, the one he liked to wear when he was over at your house, and his blond ears and tail were as immaculately trimmed and proper as ever.

“Hm, you’re not calling me Kento-nii anymore?” He said scornfully, sliding into the seat next to you and leaning his elbows on the table.

“Sorry, Kento-nii.” Bowing your head, you turned back to the table as well. Clenching your quivering hands in your lap, your claws dug into your skin to try and ground yourself. Kento hadn’t even said much and yet you were ready to pass out.

“Why’d you run away? You know we all miss you.” Leaning his head in his hands, Kento stared out the window at the people walking by. His lip curled a little in disgust, and a low growl rumbled from the back of his throat. “This isn’t the place for a girl like you.”

“You know why I had to leave.” Staring down at your hands, your eyes burned as you blinked away tears at the memories forcing their way back to you.

“I don’t. Enlighten me.”

“Kento-nii, please-” Your voice trembled, catching in your throat as it broke.

“Tell me, (Y/N). Why did you leave?”

“S-su-” It made you want to throw up just saying his name, so you didn’t. “He killed our parents.” Saying it out loud made the painful burn behind your eyes grow stronger until you were blinking hot tears down your cheeks.

“That’s not true.” Kento said calmly while turning to you. “Your parents died from-”

“Don’t lie for him!” You shouted, finally looking up at Kento. As soon as your voice raised, he wrapped a hand around the back of your neck, forcing your head against his chest and pulling you into a tight hug. Dipping his head down, Kento’s chin brushed your ears as he pressed his lips to them.

“Listen little kitten, you know better than to raise your voice at me. And you know better than to lie.” The fingers around your neck tightened and Kento dug the tips of his claws against your pulse. “Your parents died in a murder-suicide, nothing more nothing less.”

“Let go!” You sobbed, thrashing around in his hold. It was truly useless to try and fight against him. Foxes - and truly, a lot of other hybrid types - were much larger and stronger than you. There wasn’t any chance you had at trying to beat him in strength, but it didn’t mean you couldn’t try.

“Calm down, you’re making a scene.” Fully enclosing his hand around your neck, Kento squeezed the air from your throat and shut down the subsequent scream that followed. Reduced to whimpering, you stilled your body and tried to tug his hand off.

Gasping and choking when he finally let you go, your body was weak from the lack of oxygen and you fully slumped into Kento’s hold. Struggling to catch your breath, there was little solace you could find in his hand stroking between your shoulder blades.

“Come home, (Y/N).” He said gently, like he was coaxing a child into eating their unwanted vegetables.

“No.” Shaking your head weakly, your body trembled violently. Kento didn’t need to speak for you to know he wasn’t pleased with your answer, the pregnant pause that followed was enough.

“Why must you be so difficult, hm?” With a heavy, disappointed sigh, Kento let you sit upright again. Tsking at your bloodshot eyes dripping with tears, he pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and wiped your face clean.

Your lower lip shook as you looked up at him, honey colored eyes to match his blonde hair. Vertical pupils stared back at yours, the only thing the two of you really had in common.

“I’ll ask one more time: will you come home with me, (Y/N)?” Cupping your cheek, Kento wiped the snot dripping from your nose and the drool that had started to drip past your lip. “If you say no one more time, I can’t promise anything.”

“Kento-nii…” Sniffling pathetically, you blinked hard and shook your head.

“(Y/N).” Groaning in annoyance, Kento dropped his hands and put his head back. “I don’t think you’re listening-”

“Y-you listen to me!” Standing up abruptly, your chair fell over from the force and loudly clattered to the ground. “I’m never going back there! Not ever!” It was dangerous to shout at Kento, especially as you saw his pupils begin to dilate. Out of all your brothers friends, he was the one who took the rules most seriously.

Grabbing the food you had left, you ran out of the convenience store. As your feet slammed against the pavement, you didn’t dare look over your shoulder to see if he was chasing after you. Kento hadn’t been the type to play those sort of chase games back at home, but the desperation to have you back in that house was strong enough that he just might follow you.

Running all the way to the clubs back entrance, you slipped inside and hid in the storage room. No one truly bothered to come back there anyway, it was the perfect place to hide behind a few untouched boxes until it was time for your shift.

“Hey house cat, someone personally requested you.” Your boss grunted when she saw you, a cigarette hanging loosely from her lips.

“Who is it?” Attempting to look at the clipboard in her hands, you didn’t quite catch the name of the person that was written down.

“Who cares, it’s some rich fox wearing glasses. He’s at the back, you can’t miss his white hair.”

“What?” Your eyes shot open, heart stopping as her words bounced around your skull. It was too much of a coincidence that Kento had found you and now a white haired fox had requested you.

“Hey.” Grabbing you by the shoulder, your boss glared at you and turned your body around. “Get to work already and stop zoning the fuck out. You don’t want to make me put you on flyer duty do you? There’s some weirdos out tonight that would just love-”

“No! No, I’m sorry ma’am. I’ll get going right away.” Stepping away from her tight hold, you tried not to tremble as you walked to the back table. As you got closer, your knees nearly gave out on you as the fear you had was materializing right before your eyes.

It was indeed Gojo Satoru, your brother's best friend and the deadliest arctic fox you’ve ever come to know. With his pristine snow white hair and ears, keen blue eyes and those trademark dark sunglasses he wears, there was no mistaking him.

“Hey, little sister.” He crooned as you slid into the booth next to him, keeping a healthy distance between the two of you. “Missed ya.”

“Toru-nii, why are you here?” Keeping your eyes locked on the melting ice in his cup, you could barely breathe from the weight of your fear. There wasn’t anything that Satoru couldn’t - or wouldn’t - do. He’d always been the smartest, the strongest, he could beat any hybrid in anything he set his mind to, even with clear biological differences set between them.

“What do you mean why am I here? I’m here to see my favorite little kitten at her new job!” Throwing his arms open wide, Satoru had an easy smile on his face despite your obvious discomfort. “Although, I can’t say you’re doing very well so far. My glass is still empty.”

Wordlessly, you stiffly poured him a drink and slid the glass over to him. Pouring one for yourself as well, you clinked your glasses together when he raised it and took a short sip. Usually you didn’t drink on the job, getting the bartenders to mix you something that was mostly pure juice. But tonight you needed to take a bit of edge off.

“Please just go.” Forcing the words out of your tight throat, a wave of nausea washed over you as Satoru put his hand on your shoulder.

“I can’t leave here without you.” His lips brushed your ears like they used to back at home, but this time he wasn’t whispering crude little jokes to get you to giggle. Sliding his hand from your shoulder to around your ribs, Satoru quickly overwhelmed your personal space with the size of his body.

“Toru!” You gasped as his claws dug into your ribs, threatening to push through the spaces and break them entirely. Tugging on his hand, you looked around to see if anyone else was paying attention to your lonely little table in the back.

“Don’t make this any harder than it needs to be. Kento already tried to be nice and you were just so mean to him.”

“T-toru-nii, please!” Desperate tears sprang to your eyes as every word he spoke was punctuated with a tightening grip around you.

“And here I thought we trained you to be a good girl, (Y/N), I really did. But good girls don’t yell at their big brothers, they don’t lie and-” Satoru broke off to send a charming smile to a few passing hostesses before returning to you, “They certainly don’t run away.”

A choked sob racked through you, drowned out by the loud music being played overhead. In your struggle to get his hand off, you hadn���t realized Satoru slid you onto his lap until it was too late and he could wrap both long arms around you.

Forced to lean back against his lanky body, his fluffy white tail wrapped around yours, deftly hugging it close to him. Engulfing your scantily clad body, Satoru burrowed his nose between your ears, inhaling the scent he always said he liked back home.

“I’ve always wanted to see you wear something like this, ya know.” Thumbing the edge of your crop top, Satoru dipped his fingers underneath the fabric. “Always wanted to dress you up and play pretend, be my cute little hostess for the night.”

“Stop.” Grabbing his wrist, your eyes desperately searched for someone to come save you. But being seated at a table so far in the back of the club was playing to Satoru’s advantage; no one really paid attention to the back of the club because that’s where the truly shady things happened.

“C’mon kitty, play with me.” Satoru whined, bouncing you on his lap a few times. He was always childish, always whining for you to pay attention to him whenever he got the chance, and now was no different. You couldn’t see it, but you knew he had that trademark silly smile on his face regardless of the fact he had a death grip on your body.

“Toru-nii.” Jutting your lip out in a pout, you finally lurched your upper body forward enough to look at him over your shoulder.

“There’s that cutesy little face I missed.” Cooing at you, Satoru loosened his grip enough to let you sit sideways across his lap. Forcing you to wrap an arm around his middle, Satoru kept a tight grip on your back.

“Toru-nii…” Fiddling with the fabric of his shirt, you stole a glance at the eyes staring right through you. “Why do you- why are you helping him so much? You know what he did, I don’t-”

“I helped him do it.”

“What?” Your jaw fell slack and you stared right at him.

“Look, there’s no point in lying to you.” Leaning forward, Satoru grabbed his drink and took a generous swig. “I helped your brother kill your parents and stage it. We even practiced on a few drifters before moving onto the real deal.” Satoru’s smile had fallen, an unfamiliar serious look taking its place.

“You have no idea how long we all planned it, all three of us. Kento took care of your trust fund and the insurance, I subdued your parents and got them in position, and Suguru was the one who pulled the trigger.”

Tears were streaming down your face, smearing the makeup you’d put on, dripping into your open mouth. All other noise in the club fell away, leaving your ears ringing loudly from the silence in your head. Air was barely coming in or out of your lungs, your throat too tight to properly breathe.

“We had it all planned out perfectly, but then you just had to go and mess it up.” Satoru landed a swift slap to your thigh. “You just had to be a bad kitty and run off.” A second slap knocked the air back into you and your body jerked back.

“Toru-nii, why?!” Your scream was loud enough to be heard over the music, and Satoru looked around at the few curious eyes that were now looking at you, his ears flattening against his head as he forced a smile.

“We had to do it (Y/N), so we could all live together as a pack.”

“B-but we already had one.” Sure, you didn’t necessarily need to live in a group but it was nice to be in your adoptive family's pack and be surrounded by their love and care.

“That one...wasn’t the right fit.”

“For who?” Sniffling loudly, you wiped the snot from your nose. “Who wasn’t it right for?” It had been perfectly fine for you. There wasn’t any fighting, no strained dynamics and when your parents were alive, there wasn’t an overbearing older brother trying to completely consume you.

“You’ll do much better in the pack we have now, (Y/N).” Gripping your upper thigh tightly, Satoru leaned forward to press his lips against your ears once more. “Your big brothers will take great care of you.” A sound got caught in your throat, something halfway between a gasp and a scream.

“T-toru-Toru-nii.” A fresh wave of tears pricked your eyes and you blinked hard to keep them at bay. “Can I use the restroom? I just- I really need to use it.” Satoru stilled for a moment, sizing up your words and his options.

“Alright, but be quick.” Slowly releasing the tight hold he had on you, you could finally breathe again. Sliding out of the booth, you bolted to the employee bathroom and collapsed against the far wall.

There wasn’t a way out of the club without Satoru seeing. Even if you ran out the backdoor, he would still see you coming out of the bathroom. The front door was no use, there were too many people you would have to maneuver around.

“And then I said- what the hell, house cat? Are you drugged out?” A few bunny girls walked in, their long floppy ears decorated with silk ribbon. They never really spoke to you, but they weren’t mean to you either.

“My client- he’s just- I-” Stammering, you couldn’t find the words to explain the situation.

“Is he being a fucking freak?” Sauntering up to you, they tugged you up from the floor to lean against the sink counter. Sighing loudly as you nodded, one of them pulled out a small baggie from her bra, a few red pills tucked safely inside. “Here, slip one in his drink and he’ll be out like a light. Then you can have security escort him out.”

“No, he’ll notice.” Satoru would notice without a doubt if you tried to slip something into his drink. He was always watching you, sometimes more than your brother was.

“Alright well I’ll mix a drink and bring it to him, tell him he gets a free drink as a first time customer.”

“You’d do that, really?” You were nearly beside yourself with a sudden rush of hope.

“Yeah, why not? It’s been a while since I’ve had to drug a client. Plus, we can’t have our newest recruit quitting on us already!” Giving you a cheeky wink, the girls sent you on your way, promising to handle it swiftly.

Returning to the table, Satoru pulled you onto his lap once more. You didn’t struggle or make a single peep as his arms wound around you again. His grip was much softer now, not threatening to bruise and crush you.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw the girls you talked to walk to the bar. They didn’t look at you at all, going straight to the bartender and whispering a few things in their ear. Attempting to make conversation with Satoru, you didn’t have to wait long for them to come to your table.

“Hi sir, we heard it was your first time here!” One of the girls shouted, bouncing on her heels and making her ears flop around.

“Mhmm, so we thought it would be a nice treat to give you a drink on the house!” Another girl came up, setting down a bright pink cocktail. “Go ahead and try it, I bet you’ll like it!”

“Hm, okay.” Shrugging his shoulder, Satoru grabbed the drink and took a sip, smacking his lips together at the flavor and then taking another. “This isn’t bad, thank you!”

“Of course sir, our pleasure.” Winking at the both of you, they walked away slowly, keeping their eyes on Satoru and fully turning away after seeing him down half the drink.

Satoru always did like a bit of liquor, and it would quickly be his downfall. The drink was a sweet fruity concoction to mask the bitter pill as it dissolved and Satoru’s deadly sweet tooth was hooked immediately.

You didn’t even fully wait for him to pass out before getting out of his lap. His heavy head bobbed side to side, his words slurred not like you’d heard before and his arms had fallen slack off of you. Only his droopy eyes could seem to follow you, silently demanding you to stay in place.

Throwing on your outside clothes in the back room, you kept your hood tightly drawn as you ran from the club. You weren’t worried about pissing your boss off and having to deal with the repercussions, you wouldn’t be returning to that place ever again.

Bursting through your front door, you grabbed whatever clothes you could and shoved them into your bag. The small stack of bills you kept hidden in the bathroom was a welcomed weight to your growing pile, there was enough to at least buy a train ticket and a hot meal a good distance from Tokyo.

Under the cover of the moonless night, you tried to stick to the back alleys on your way to the station that would take you out of town. It paid off to live in such a seedy area, you knew all the ins and outs and where to go to avoid being seen.

Popping your head out from an alleyway, the street before you was deserted. A long string of old warehouses called the street home, their brick and mortar facades well worn from time. Dodging the streetlights as best you could, you could practically taste freedom on the tip of your tongue.

“Oh little sister.” A voice rang out into the dead street, an eerie song sung on the lips of the one man you’d never wanted to see again. Keeping as still as possible, your eyes burned from not blinking, and your lungs from not breathing.

His slow, methodical footsteps scraped across the cement ground, echoing in the silence and heightening your anxiety with every slow drag of his feet. As the sound drew closer, you pressed yourself against the doorway of a warehouse. There wasn’t any way you could outrun your brother, so you had to devise a plan to outsmart him when he got close enough.

“Little sister, I’ve been looking for you.” Suguru came to a halt right in front of you, his towering build casting a shadow over you in the already dark alcove. He was wearing what he had on the last time you saw him, a simple black tracksuit and his favorite slides. His hair had gotten a little longer, resting a few inches past his shoulder blades with the top half in a bun.

Quirking a brow, Suguru hummed low in his chest, reaching an arm out and resting a hand next to your head. His long black claws scraped against the wood of the door, his hand easily large enough to encompass your whole face and then some. The natural musky scent of his body was sickeningly familiar, like you’d only gone just a few hours without smelling it.

“Tell me, did you have fun playing hide and seek with your big brother?” Flashing two rows of gleaming white and perfectly straight canine teeth, Suguru leaned over you, the expanse of his chest blocking out any wiggle room. “I hope you did, because I’m done playing now.”

“Y-you’re not my- my big brother anymore.” Screwing your eyes closed, you twisted your head away from him as much as you could.

“Don’t say such things, (Y/N), you’ll hurt my feelings.” Suguru laughed dryly, clearly unamused.

“Getou li- ahh!” In a flash Suguru had his other hand around your neck, lifting you up to dangle on your tiptoes as he choked you.

“Don’t you ever call me that again, do you fucking understand?” Staring at you with unblinking eyes, Suguru squeezed hard. When your eyes started to roll to the back of your head he let go, stepping back slightly to let you fall to the ground.

Struggling to regain your breath, you tried to crawl away through the small gap left between the wall and him. You barely got one full step before Suguru grabbed you by the back of your hoodie, forcing you to stand and practically dangling you in the air like a doll.

“What’s this?” Seeing the sliver of skin underneath the hoodie, Suguru wrenched it off of you. Your sweats came off shortly after and you were exposed to the elements and his growing glare. “Care to explain why you’re half fucking naked?”

“G-” You started but quickly pressed your lips closed at the sharp look he sent you. “Suguru, just let me go.”

“Answer my fucking question.” His tone left no room for further argument, and you slowly drew your arms over your exposed midriff.

“I started working at a...a hostess bar.” Your words hung in the air, the weight of them heavy and clinging to every part of you. Suguru’s face made no change, the only thing that tipped you off to his anger was the intense flaring of his nostrils.

“My precious little sister has been working at a hostess bar for the past two months? You’ve been dressed like this every night, getting stared at and perved on by god knows what kind of men? You ran away for this?” Suguru’s voice was far too steady for the situation, spiking the already high adrenaline in your blood.

“Suguru please-”

“And it seems you’ve forgotten the number one rule. You know what you’re supposed to call me.” Backing you up onto the door again, Suguru’s fluffy black tail flicked out behind him, it’s long drawn out shadow swaying back and forth.

“You’re not my brother.” Licking your lips nervously, your eyes followed his tail. There was no way you could look him in the eye after saying that. Suguru began to laugh, a cold and hollow sound from the base of his throat that sent a chill down your spine.

“And why exactly is that?” Slamming both hands down on either side of your head, he leaned down to make eye contact with you, his pupils blown wide against his already pitch black irises.

“You know.” Forcing the words out of your mouth, you curled into yourself as much as you could.

“No, I don’t.” Speaking slowly, Suguru waited just a few seconds before slamming his hands down again. “Tell me little kitten, right now!” You let out a piercing scream, covering your face with your hands.

“You killed our parents! You killed them and I heard you fucking do it!” Coming face to face with your adopted brother, the man that killed your parents in cold blood, and having to talk to him about it were all making your head spin.

“No, no I didn’t do that, honey. You’ve got it all wrong.” Suguru’s voice dropped low, instantly adopting a soothing tone. His fingers toyed with the edges of your ears, brushing the soft fur gently. “Mommy and daddy...they had problems. And I know it must be hard to believe, but they did it to themselves.”

“You’re such a liar!” Smacking his hand away from your ears, you glared at him, frustrated tears stewing on your lash line. “I heard you shoot them Suguru! I heard mom-” Your voice cracked, and the tears began to stream down your face. “I heard her tell you not to do it.”

Falling silent, Sugurus face remained neutral. His hand remained in the air from when you smacked it away, and the only indication he was still alive was the subtle flicker of his eyelids and the way his chest barely moved as he breathed.

“I knew I should have drugged you more.” He finally broke the silence, putting his hand back on the door to keep you trapped. Everything Suguru did felt like you were watching it in slow motion. The way he drew in a deep breath, expanded his chest and arms out wide and then drew you into a tight, bone crushing embrace all felt like it happened too slow. Like you should have been able to prevent it.

“Suguru!” You screamed his name from the top of your lungs, throat quickly going raw from the volume of your shouts. “Let me go! Let me go!” Writhing around, you felt the air quickly being squeezed out of you.

“It doesn’t matter now though. It’s all in the past!” Laughing to himself, Suguru took a few steps back, going to the middle of the deserted street and under a light post. “That’s right! The past! No need to worry about it, what’s done is done!”

“Su-Sugu-nii! Sugu-nii please!” You finally broke. You finally called him what he had trained you to call him for all those years. Your precious big brother.

“Oh how I missed hearing you call me that!” Still laughing, Suguru let out a loud hum. “I think I should record you saying that so I can play it over and over whenever I need my fix.”

“Sugu-nii, please!” The tears of frustration were now turning to tears of fear and desperation. The squeezing had stopped, you could just barely suck in air, but your feet still dangled off the ground. “Please let me go- this isn’t okay!”

“What does a dumb little kitten know about what is and isn’t okay?”

“Sugu!”

“You’re just a stupid little baby who got scared without her mommy and daddy and ran away. Well don’t worry, my darling sister, Sugu-nii is here to take care of you.” Nuzzling his nose against your ears affectionately, Suguru sighed contently. “We’ll be a family again, just like before. You’ll be with the pack just like you’re supposed to.”

“I’m not- not even a fox, Sugu!” Your chances of leaving his hold anytime soon were quickly diminishing, there wasn’t much you could say - if anything - to convince him to stop. “I don’t need to live in a pack, I don’t- I’m not a canine at all!”

“Hm, like that matters. Foxes act more like cats anyway.” Shrugging his shoulders, Suguru put his hand on the back of your head, raking his nails softly against your scalp. He was holding you now like a baby doll, the arm that had previously been crushing you against him now coming to rest under your bottom and cradle you.

Something caught your eye, making you twist away from Suguru in hopes that it was someone that had heard the screams and was coming to save you. Your heart deflated just as quickly as it swelled when it was Kento who had appeared, a metal briefcase in his hands.

“Look, Kento-nii is here. Go to him.” Putting you on your feet, Suguru nudged you forward. Your knees locked, refusing to move toward the imposing figure.

“It wasn’t nice to drug Gojo like that, little kitten. He’s passed out in the back of the car as we speak, you’ll have to apologize to him when he wakes up.” Kento closed the distance between the two of you, eyes glowering and brows tightly knit together.

“How did you-”

“You think just because you run away we can’t track your scent? How do you think we found you at the club after you so rudely left our conversation? Just a few sniffs and it was like you walked us right there.” Flicking the briefcase open, Kento’s face was obscured as he began to dig around for the contents. “I was waiting by the backdoor of that shitty little club, I had a feeling Gojo wouldn’t be able to convince you to come back and you’d make a run for it again, and you did. It was far too easy to call up Getou and let him know.”

The words Kento was saying were barely sticking inside your head, your complete focus going to the loaded syringe he had pulled out from the briefcase and was now holding in his hands, an almost bored expression on his face.

Taking a step back as he took one forward, you bumped into Suguru’s chest. He made a tsking noise, quickly sliding an arm under your chin and another around your middle to keep you from moving.

“Stop! Stop, Sugu-nii please!” The tears that dripped down your face didn’t matter anymore. Your voice going hoarse from all the screaming didn’t matter anymore. Nothing mattered anymore. At least, nothing you wanted mattered.

“Just try to be calm, little sis. Kento will be quick.” Suguru chuckled darkly, resting his chin atop your head. Any further words you had dissolved into frantic screams as Kento grabbed your arm and wrenched it away from your body.

Pushing the needle into you, he injected you with a serene face. Like he had practiced this before, almost as if he was a doctor giving you a flu shot. Whatever was in the syringe was gone quickly, Kento unloading the whole vial into you before calmly placing it back in the briefcase and shutting it.

“Don’t cry baby.” Suguru cooed, pressing a flurry of kisses on your head as he loosened his hold and began to wipe the tears off your face.

“Sugu- Kento-” You were losing track of the world and fast. Things blurred together, the crisp edges of Kento’s body were melting into the brick walls behind him. Your limbs were giving out on you and Suguru was quick to pick you up and cradle you like he had done before.

“Sshh, just go to sleep.” Pressing his lips against your ear, Suguru whispered softly, giggling at the way you closed your heavy eyes and relaxed into his embrace. “We’ll be home before you know it. One big happy family.”

[tavvattales]

helloooo can i request a fluff lof y/n taking care of their injuries after some long fight? with childe, xiao and diluc 😊 thank youuu

Oh my goodness, yes of course! <3

And if I may be bold to say, you're my first ever ask! Thank you so much for enjoying my work. I hope you enjoy these stories I wrote especially for you! 😊😊

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GENSHIN IMPACT Character x gn reader fluff stories~♡♡

Scenario: Cleaning up their wounds

Characters: Childe/Tartaglia, Xiao, Diluc(seperate)

Pairings: Childe/Tartaglia x gn reader, Xiao x gn reader, Diluc x gn reader

Warnings: Mentions of blood and injuries, minor swearing

SFW----> Lots of fluff down below. Click at your own risk. ;)

Childe/Tartaglia:

● He's a skilled fighter, he wouldn't be a Harbinger if he wasn't, so very rarely would he come to you with a wound. When he does he's always embarrassed, but he'll come to you because you never pass judgment, instead your eyes are filled with worry and love.

● He loves how gentle you are when you tend to him. The way he looks at you when you clean him up and the way you smile at him, telling him how glad you are it wasn't anything serious. He knows how much you love him and it makes him fall even harder for you. Every. Single. Time.

A loud, rapid knock to your door startled you awake. Groggily you stumbled out of bed, rubbing the sleep from your eyes wondering who it could be at this time of night. As you reach the door, you peer through the peep hole. Surprised, you open the door.

A Fatui agent stood there, bowing to you. Immediately you knew what was wrong before the man could have a chance to speak, "Where is he? How bad is it?" You asked, rushed, already putting your coat on over your sleeping garments.

"He's at the Northlander Bank. He would have come here himself, but this time it's. . .bad. He's lost a bit of blood," The agent spoke grimly. You felt the lump in your throat rise and you tried to swallow.

"Thank you. ." You manage to say to the man before rushing past him, grabbing the medical supplies in the process. You didn't stop running through the brightly lit streets of Liyue until you arrived at the bank.

Panting and gasping for air you pushed past the two Fatui agents who were guarding the doors. They already knew who you were so they didn't even try to stop you, otherwise you would have had their tounge.

You quickly made your way to his room where a few more agents were attending to him as he lay on his bed, clutching his side with blood soaked rags. Your nose was immediately met with the smell of iron, "Childe! Oh my Archons, what the hell happened?!" You rush to his side, pulling out your medical supplies.

You shooed the remaining agents out of the room so you could focus. "I had a run in with a peculiar traveler named Aether. He put up quite a fight. ." His breathing was heavy and staggered, fading in and out of consciousness.

"I need you to keep talking to me, my love," you say to him gently, trying to stay calm, "I'm going to cut off your shirt so I can better assess your wound, okay?" You swiftly take out your surgical scissors and cut away the crimson soaked fabric clinging to his upper torso.

You gasp, the wound was a large slash across the side of his abdomen. You stifle back tears before meekly saying, "You're going to be okay. I promise. You'll need several stitches, but I'm determined to keep you alive."

He lets out a small laugh before wincing in pain, "I'm lucky to have someone as kind and caring as you, Y/N" Childe weakly reaches over to push a strand of hair behind your ear.

You lean into his hand for a brief moment before replying, "Take this for the pain, and this to help stop the bleeding. Afterwards I'm going to need to disinfect the wound," You hand him two pills and he swallows them quickly, "It's going to hurt, love, so bare with me. ."

You open up a bottle of alcohol and offer your hand to him, "Squeeze my hand," You say to him as you start pouring the alcohol over his wound. He grits his teeth and lets out a pained groan as he squeezes your hand tightly. You work quickly from there, stitching his wound perfectly.

Once you're finished you clean up all the rags and place a clean damp one over his forehead. He's now asleep, getting the much deserved rest he needed. You place a gentle kiss upon his cheek, not leaving his side.

He'll live to see another day, thank the Archons.

Childe/Tartaglia x gn reader END

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

Xiao:

● He also isn't one to get injured so quickly, though when he does you're always quickly by his side no matter how big or small. Even though he's not much for human interaction, he quite enjoys the attention he gets from you.

● He'll always thank you in his own way with odd gifts he made himself. You find it charming. By now you have quite the collection and they're all your most prized possessions.

Today you wanted to travel to Mondstat as you heard there was a festival going on and Xiao offered to accompany you, but only for protection he insisted. He thought human customs were a waste and didn't want to be bothered with them.

The journey to Mondstat would take half a day, and sometimes the roads could be treacherous, so you made sure to pack all of the necessities.

Snacks for the road? Check. Extra water? Check. A med kit? Of course. You triple checked everything and you were about to check it a fourth time when Xiao stopped you and said, "Y/N, you have everything we need. Trust me," He placed a firm, but gentle hand on your shoulder, "Now let's get going before it gets too late. The roads will get dangerous is we wait any longer."

You let out a small sigh and nod, "You're right. Sorry, you know I always gotta make sure everything's in order." You could have sworn you heard him huff and that made you smile. Xiao always had a cold exterior, but you knew a different side to him. He was gentle, kind, always looking out for you. You loved him so much for that. He'd never let anyone but you see this side of him.

Grabbing your sack you sling it over your shoulder and secure it as you both prepare to head out. Xiao was never one for small talk, but you still engaged him in conversation while you two walked. He secretly loved the sound of your voice so he kept you entertained just so he could keep hearing it.

After a few hours of walking both of you had arrived to Stone Gate, you decide it was time for a break. You stretch your arms upwards and arch your back before plopping down on top of a log you had found, patting the spot next to you for Xiao to sit next to you, but he shook his head and continued to stand on guard, "Oh come on, Xiao. We've been walking for hours. It's okay to rest for a bi-"

He quickly raised his hand to stop you from talking and put a finger to his lips before quietly saying, "I sense something evil coming our way," He readied his jade spear before continuing, "I need you to hide someplace safe."

"No way am I going to let you fight on your own!" You retort, getting your sword ready. Determination burned in your eyes as you glanced over to him.

He met your gaze and let out a small sigh, his golden eyes glimmering before giving you a nod, "Fine."

You started hearing rustling from all around you both when it finally clicked that it was an ambush. A charge of at least twenty Hilichurls and three large ones came at the both of you from all sides, "Tck. . Damn. There are more than I expected, " Xiao muttered angrily, knocking back three with his spear in one swift movement, killing them instantly.

You swiftly take out two more, rushing at a third one. You two made a hell of a team. You didn't have a vision, but you were very skilled with the sword and whatever you didn't have, Xiao made up for it creating the perfect synergy between the both of you.

"So much for a peaceful break!" You call out to him as you hacked away a few more, so far you've managed not to get hit. Xiao managed to take out the rest rather quickly.

You rush to his side, noticing a rather long cut across his right cheek, "Xiao, you've been hurt," you said, a frown forming on your lips. He reached up to touch it and he winced slightly.

"I must have been nicked by an arrow, " He muttered, "I'm just glad you're not hurt," He softly took your chin in his hand as he tilted your head gently, side to side.

You blush furiously, avoiding his beautiful gaze, "Let me at least tend to your cut. It's the least I can do" you say, rummaging through your sack taking out the med kit.

Xiao took a seat on the log you were previously sitting on as you kneel in front of him, gently tending his wound. He winces each time you dab it with the disinfectant, but he's grateful to you.

After placing the bandage on his cut, he gingerly takes your hand and places it back on his cheek, nuzzling into it, "Thank you, " He said in a hushed whisper before kissing your hand.

You smile at him and leaned upwards, giving a quick kiss to his bandaged cut, leaving him stunned. "That's to make it heal faster" you say giggling softly at his expression.

He still wasn't used to human customs, but this he could get used to.

Xiao x gn reader END

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

Diluc:

● His work as the Dark Knight hero brings him home with several injuries a week, but you're quick to assist him and most of the time he's careful not to sustain anything too horrible. Though you never fail to scold him for being reckless and to take it easy once in a while.

● He always studies your features as you tend to him, falling in love with you all over again. You're so tender with your touch, careful not to cause him any further harm. He always pulls you into a tight embrace afterwards, grateful to be back in your arms after a long night.

You let out an exasperated sigh as you study the mildly battered Diluc. His bright fiery colored hair, falling in locks in front of his face as he plops down in a chair, leaning his head back. He had several small cuts from what you could tell with the amount of tears on his clothing, "You over did it again, didn't you?" You asked, hands on your hips.

"Mm, perhaps I may have, " Diluc replies back, slowly taking off his jacket and unbuttoning his shirt, preparing for you to clean out his cuts and scrapes.

You click your tongue in response to his answer, "You worry me so much, you know that, right?" But you're quick to blush as he slides off his shirt, his perfectly sculpted abs catching the dim light of the room, creating perfect shadows across his skin.

He smirks at you, "I'm aware, but I also love seeing how you care for me after a long night, Y/N," Diluc takes your hand in his, bringing it up to his lips as he gingerly kisses it, glancing up at you with his gentle crimson eyes.

You fidget shyly, meeting his gaze, "O-of course. I'll always support you, but it's okay to give your body a break once in a while too. ." You say, smiling softly wondering what you were gonna do with him.

Diluc lets go of your hand, letting you get to work on cleaning his several small cuts. You're careful not to further hurt him as you dab them clean, applying a bandage to each one, "All finished." You say, proud of your handiwork.

"Thank you, my dear," He says as he gets up, pulling you into a warm embrace. Your heart pounding in your chest. You lift your face up to meet his loving crimson gaze as he leans down to give you a soft, warm kiss upon your lips.

You may not like to see him hurt, but you live for these gentle moments.

Diluc x gn reader END

I hope you enjoy <3

[plush-rabbit]

Uncertainty in the Household

Picture Perfect Series

TW: talk and action for miscarriage, slight manipulation

Word Count: 4.1K

A/N: I wanted to explore the reader and Danny’s relationship in this chapter, so i hope you like it, first part is p rough with the whole miscarriage, so you're free to skip to after the second - if you're uncomfy with that

-

Tears fall into your palms as your fingertips dig into your scalp, your belly- while still early in the pregnancy, still feels as if it’s protruding, and you sit on the shared bed, a faint smell of cigarettes and alcohol lingers in the air and you’re alone. For now, at least. It wouldn’t have been so bad if it were Danny who was the father. You want to kid yourself, to tell such lies that he could be the father, that sleeping with- that being forced into whatever sick game Ghostface has with you- that he didn’t impregnate you. You blame yourself. You should have taken the morning after pill, you should have purged yourself of everything and anything to make sure that you didn’t let yourself have his child. Your stomach twists and turns, a thin veil of acid on your tongue and you wonder how to explain this to Danny. If you even should. It’s still early, maybe you could get rid of the child before anyone has to know. Your eyes widen and you sit up, your eyes scanning the room and you let out a breath, nodding to yourself.

You can get rid of the child. No one knows. You made sure to throw away the pregnancy tests in a dumpster at a park and rip the receipts before anyone could ever see. No one has to know.

Loneliness, while always being your aggressor, has finally worked in your favor. You rush to put on your clothes, ignoring the burning desire to cry, your purse in your hand, you walk to the front door, pausing to leave a note to your partner.

“Went out, I’ll bring dinner.” Something short and simple. Marked with a little heart at the end that makes you feel a bit sick, like it’s something like a lie that you’re telling him. You place the pen down and grab the car keys, rushing down the steps. Each step down the stairs is something that feels heavy, chains around our ankle and the child- no, you can’t call it that. You know you’ll get attached. You’ve heard about the tactics that are used to pressure vulnerable people into keeping their unborn children, and you won’t be one of those. You can’t. Not now and you’re sure not ever. The car purrs to life, the steering wheel a bit too hot from being under the sun and you wait, letting the cool air fan against your already hot body and you reverse out of the parking lot.

-

You return with tuna, alcohol, fenugreek, a peppermint and aloe vera plant, a thin bag that is filled with peaches, different varieties of caffeine that you can already taste, and pineapple. Your hands ache, the base of your fingers sore from the heaviness of the bags that you stubbornly carried up to the apartment. You were not going to make multiple trips, that much was certain about your day. You hear his voice before you see him, a greeting cut off as he realizes just how much you’re carrying. Danny’s eyes widen, and he rushes off the couch, taking bags away and your palms are redden from the indents of the bags.

“Are we having a feast?” His hands are inside a bag and he pulls out wrapped fish, and he stops, turning to you, a tight smile on his lips that you don’t recognize. “I didn’t know you liked fish.” He places it down and watches as you carefully place a clinking bag down onto the table. “Alcohol too, huh? What-” he turns to you, a nervous chuckle filling the space of his words- “Did I forget a special date?”

You shake your head no, already biting into an unwashed peach, trying to ignore how many hands and bacteria have touched the fruit before you. “Just-” you speak with a full mouth and turn your head, covering your mouth with your hand and taking another bite. You swallow and take a gulp of air. “I was just craving fish is all. Why? Do you not like fish?”

“No, it’s not that, it’s just that I- I just wanted soup, and-” your smile falls and he shakes his head. “I can get soup tomorrow. How long until the fish is down?”

“Actually-” you reach into another bag and pull out two containers- “I was able to buy some sushi on the way home.” You pull out a pack and slide the container to him. You spare him a glance as he stares at the sushi with an odd, angry feeling. “Oh, I’m uh, I have tomorrow off, by the way.” You meet his eyes for a minute and he gives you a nod, allowing you to continue.

“You’ve been throwing up lately,” he adds, taking a bite from his plate. Your heart sinks and you try to mask your emotions, turning around to grab a bottle opener from one the drawers. “I’ve been worried, you know. Maybe-” the chair squeaks and when you turn, he’s sitting down, an unopened beer beside his plate- “I should take tomorrow off too and we can go to the doctor. Just to see if you don’t have the flu or-” he tilts his head, his lips twitching- “if it isn’t anything else.”

A part of you wants to tell him your fear. You don’t want to be pregnant, and you hope that if you manifest it enough, it’ll be true. But you also fear that he wants a family and you’ll be the one ruining it for him. Maybe you aren’t even pregnant. Maybe it’s just needless worry over a few faulty exams, but you can’t risk it. Not now. Not if it has the chance to be someone other than Danny’s.

With a bottle opener in hand, you walk towards Danny, his eyes on you the entire time. You place the bottle opener beside his drink, a hand on his shoulder and the other brushing back his hair, combing it to the side. His hands leave his meal and rest against your hips, his gaze up at you and there’s a hint of a smile at his lips, and you lean down, pressing your lips over his scar that adorns his forehead.

“We have bills to pay Dan,” you mutter, “at least one of us should be responsible.” You close your eyes tightly to avoid tears spilling over, the hand on his shoulder tightening and when you pull away, he looks unbothered for a moment before giving you a forced smile. “Let’s eat, okay? You can tell me about your day.”

-

All it takes is one doctor appointment to confirm that you are not pregnant. It was just a scare. And as if life and everything else in control of you wanted to laugh, you bled through your underwear on the ride home. The vomiting in the morning was your body simply pretending to have the signs, your mind so strong that it created a falsehood of pregnancy, just because you were so scared and sure of it.

Life is odd for the moment. You tried so hard to get rid of the unwanted child and they were never there to begin with. You had to go through with the nervousness that consumed you. The call to the doctor, the waiting, the glances that Danny gave you as if he knew something. You wonder if he did know. He isn’t dumb, a bit dense when it comes to your feelings, but he’s smart in a way that matters. You hope that he doesn’t know, for both your sake and his. The little scare will be something that you take to your grave, hoping that it’ll remain just that.

The fan is turned on with a simple swipe of your hand against the light switch, the room filling with white noise. You sit on his couch, your body stiff as if it were the first time that you had visited his home. You still remember how it was. Dirty. You hadn’t expected that from him. There was trash all over, a sort of musty smell and an empty fridge. He hadn’t seemed embarrassed, but rather mildly inconvenienced even though he was the one to invite you over. However, now the place is as clean as it can be, the musty smell now replaced by a slight twinge of alcohol and tobacco, but with an overlapping floral scent from one of your candles. You can’t help but wonder if he minds that you added bits and pieces of yourself into his home. He calls it your home too, almost too eager to make sure that you know that you belong here, but even so, it doesn't feel like your home. It’s too empty, too devoid of your touch. You still feel as if you’re a guest, waiting and cleaning, tending to him when he needs it.

The simple fact of the matter is, this isn’t your home. Your stuff, your personal items that you decorated your home are still in boxes shoved under the bed. You miss your home. “I miss my home,” you say to yourself, tears pricking in your eyes. The rent was cheap, and the landlords were kind enough, but it’s gone. The place scooped up by some stranger and the thought has your stomach rising.

You’ve thought about leaving here. Perhaps not Danny, but maybe that would be a consequence of you leaving. It was too rushed. You were too scared of Ghostface invading your life again. You made a rash decision that the both of you now have to pay for. He lost his space, his privacy and you can tell he holds some resentment, the way he slams the doors close, how he locks the rooms and won’t speak to you until he needs something, until he’s pressuring you to kiss him with a half-hearted apology on his tongue.

You glance at the coffee table, old and cracked, the paint on the wood chipped and revealing the unfurnished finish. The photo frame is cold, a slight layer of dust over it, concealing your nervous smile and Danny’s wide one. He isn't happy, but he’s smiling. You both only have a few pictures with each other. It isn’t much, and you’re surprised that the photographer wouldn’t want more, but it can’t be helped.

The photo is placed back on the table, and you lay down on the sofa, grabbing at the throw blanket that you added. Your arms act as a pillow underneath your weary head, and you stare at the photo, training over how his arms are wrapped tight round you and how close that he holds you.

-

Daniel walks into his shared apartment with you, and he immediately spots your shoes in a different position than when he left. He frowns, walking further into the apartment, his eyes scan the room, his eyes landing on a crumpled bag of fast food on the table, the drink creating a water ring on the table. It isn’t like you to be so careless.

The drink rattles in his hand, nothing but cold liquid is inside the container. His bag is heavy as he leans it against the wall on the floor, and he finally finds you. You’re asleep on the couch, your body curled with the decorative throw blanket covering your body as the fan spins above.

He lowers himself to watch you, your soft breaths and the way your face is relaxed. You’re asleep and it brings him back to a time where you were under him, where night concealed him and he was able to hover above you. It’s much different now, you’re still scared but he’s able to kiss you, to have you rake your nails down his back and hold his hand as if it’s the only thing to keep you sane.

A calloused hand cups your cheek, your skin soft and blemished with faded scars that he’s studied meticulously night after night. You wake up with his fingers tracing over your face and he doesn’t make a sound, everything about him is stoic and he wonders how you are seeing this situation in your eyes. Are you scared? Do you know? Are you pregnant? What are you thinking of him at this very moment? You blink slowly at him and he’s reminded of a cat, watching and tired, and there’s a burning desire in him that wonders what you would do if he strangled you right now. Slowly, his hand lowers, his knuckles brushing over your cheekbones and down your jawline, touching against your pulse on your neck and he feels it quicken. Your eyes never leave his and he doesn’t look away. He’s sure that he could convince you that it was a joke or that maybe it was just a dream that you had. It’s been a while since you had such a vivid dream.

Your hand creeps from under the blanket and you hold the back of his hand, moving it back to your face, letting your lips press against the side of his palm in a soft kiss. “Danny,” you say in a sleepy voice as your eyes close. “How was work?” Your hand that holds his becomes limp and he watches as it slides down his hand, catching on the cuff of his sweater until it dangles off the couch.

It wasn’t smart of him to invite you to live with him. He was too reckless, too needy and desperate to have you beside him that he just wasn’t thinking. Even if you are naïve and easily pulled into a false sense of security, he can’t just explain his costume, he can’t explain the knife and all the careful cleaning kits that he has. This is all too risky.

But he can’t throw you out either. He’s become attached. You’re like a pet to him now, and as every disgruntled man says on television, don’t name something or else you’ll get attached. And now he’s fallen victim to it. It’s nice to have such an easy fuck around, to know that he cold do whatever he wanted to you and you’ll stay here with him, because the other option is much scarier. The corners of his lips pull upwards and he pulls his hand away, fixing the blanket above you and he rises from his knees with a sigh.

“Another dead body,” he says with a chipper voice that he can’t seem to hide. “All signs point to our residential serial killer.” It’s much too risky to have Ghostface visit you, you thought this as your safe haven, you have to know and think that it still is, but fuck does he miss your fear and how pitifully you cried. “You never told me why you hated him so much.” He has to bite the inside of his cheeks when your brows knit together. “I know he’s a killer, but did he ever hurt anyone close to you?”

Your eyes shift and you pull the blanket closer to you, the folds stretching across your frame and showing the curves of your body. “I’m not sure, I just-” you catch his eyes and he sees you visibly shrink away from him- “I’m scared of his mask.”

His mouth fills with saliva as he thinks about just how frightened you are. “What a shame, I was hoping to get into roleplay.” He could think about you know, how you'd hit and scream, how he could pretend that it was all part of the act and just hold you down, thinking about how you would put the pieces together and sob.

“That isn’t funny,” you say in a high-pitched voice, already cracking and sitting up to lessen the distance between the two of you. He rolls his eyes in response, standing up from his crouch with a hiss between his teeth. “People are dead,” you whine, as if he hasn’t been keeping up with the news with you. “He killed people.” You’re much more emotional than he thought, but you’ve held your mouth for so long, suffered in your silence and in your vulnerability; it's only natural you would have such strong emotions.

“Relax, it was a joke.” He takes off his jacket and tosses it beside you, watching as you pull yourself closer, further away from his jacket and only staring at it with confusion, as if he dared to have the audacity to throw something your way.

“A dumb one,” you say with with a pout, gripping tighter onto the blanket.

“I said relax,” Danny says in a stern voice, already done with the conversation. He may have been the one to start it but he was hoping for a more playful one, or rather one where you go along with him rather than try to fight him.

“Whatever,” you huff, and he sees you bundle the blanket in your arms, pushing yourself to the further end of the couch, looking at the wall with furrowed brows as your hand tries to discreetly cover your pout.

“Great,” he says sarcastically, turning around and walking towards the fridge. “Now, you’re angry,” he says loud enough for you to hear.

He rises back up with a bottle in his hand, toying with the cap, letting the ridges play against his fingertips. You don’t respond and he can feel his anger start to rise, something thick that lodges in his throat and makes it impossible to swallow. You aren’t answering him. Usually this would be a good sign, something that means he still has you wrapped around his finger, but it feels different. You aren’t moving from your spot, and you aren’t apologizing to him. He puts the bottle down, and runs his hand down his face with a heavy sigh.

“I think,” your voice is small, and he can barely hear it, but he can, “we both rushed into this… relationship. We should have taken it slow.” When you turn to him, he sees that your eyes are wet and you try to take steady breaths but to no avail. “I’m happy with you, but I don’t think we were thinking clearly when we chose to-” your eyes glance around and you look away from him- “to do this.”

His jaw twitches and he watches you, anger boiling inside of him, white-hot that makes it impossible to think and if he could, he'd grab the knife on the counter and stick it in your back but he can’t. Copper fills his mouth and he turns on his heel, the bedroom door slamming behind him, loud enough that he can hear your yelp and loud enough that it makes his ears ring. He wonders what the neighbors would think of it, but he can’t really bring himself to care. He’ll find an excuse, he always does.

His name is muted through the door and he rummages through the closet, pulling out a worn backpack and knocking a few clothes off the anger that he steps on. You enter the room just in time to witness him opening your drawer and throwing your things inside without a care.

“Danny?” Your voice sounds so fearful and it makes him stop for a second, and when he looks at you, your foot slides back out of the room. You’re terrified of him right now. “Danny, what are you doing?” You ask in a small voice, as you take a tentative step inside the room.

“You want to leave right?” He asks in a condescending tone, stepping closer to you with the back held tight in his hand. “Well, don’t worry. I’ll help you pack.”

“I didn’t-”

“Didn’t you say that we rushed into this?” With every word he stalks towards you and he tosses the backpack onto the bed, only to miss and have it slide down, the contents inside spilling onto the floor. You look away from him and that only adds fuel to the fire that is tarnishing him from the inside. “Didn’t you?” He shouts, slapping his hand on the dresses, rattling your bottles of perfume and creams. He stares at you, his nostrils flared and jaw tight as he tries to keep a sense of composure. “Did you or did you not?” He asks, his voice eerily calm as he lets his nails drag along the wall. “What? Cat got your tongue?”

“I’m sorry, Dan,” you cry, your eyes spilling over with tears. “I wasn’t thinking. Please, I promise, it was just a long day and I’m sorry.”

You’re pathetic and not in the way that he wants you. He turns around and you grab his arm, latching yourself around his forearm. His name is on your tongue and before you have a chance to finish it, he turns around, his hand raised, and mouth pulled into an ugly snarl. You let go of him immediately and try to shield yourself, but he aims for the wall instead. His palm stings and you let out a choked sob.

He can’t think. Not with you here. Not with his emotions running so high. Not when his palm stings and there’s something dark brooding inside of him. He takes a deep breath and he forces himself to look at you. You stare up at him with worry creasing your features.

“It's okay,” his words are still tense, but your body lowers its defenses slightly, and he knows he’s on the right track. “I was angry.” He pulls his hand away from the wall and rubs it with his other, the palm of his hand a light shade of pink. “Why don’t we have dinner, huh?” He tries to give you a charming smile, but it falls flat. “We’ll talk about it over dinner. You know-” he reaches for your hand and grabs it in both of his- “like couple’s therapy or some shit. How does that sound?”

You break away from his gaze, glancing at the floor, and he knows your habits and tics by now. You’ll scan the floor, and look up at him and smile and nod. You play your part so well, and if he had to be honest with himself, he can’t lose that. Not yet. Not when you’re so dependent on him and him on you. He waits for our smile, to give you his own to show that he’s okay, that his anger has subsided for now, but you never give him that. Your mouth parts open and there are tears in your eyes, your hand shakes and grows clammy in his. He calls your name, but you don’t respond. Your breath is ragged, sharp inhales and shaky exhales, and he follows your gaze to the floor under the bed.

In the corner of his eye, he spots white and his nails dig into your skin. “Go get me a beer, I’ll-” he looks down at you and your eyes are stuck, glued to the floor where you can see the face that has haunted you- “I’ll clean up, okay? Just give me a moment.” It isn’t enough, you’re still looking where the mask lays, the bottom half of the face peeking from under your undergarments. Your mouth opens in a silent question and when you look back at him, you’re scanning his face. His body runs hot, his mouth going dry and he says the only thing that can come to mind. “I told you I wanted to try roleplay.”

“I thought you were,” you hesitate, and your tongue peeks to wet your lips, “I thought you were kidding,” you say breathlessly, your words slow as if you were hypnotized and the truth of the matter is, is that you are. You’re ruined by the mask that lies on the floor, the mouth of it the only thing that you can see. You peel away from him and have your back turned to him, your arms coming up to give yourself a hug. “I’ll go get you a beer,” you say in a daze, and when you turn back, your smile is weak, and you can’t look at him for long, your eyes magnetized to the mask on the floor.

He’s left alone in the room, his nails digging into the palm of his hands and red in his vision. The worst part of it all is that he can’t go out tonight. Not when you saw his mask. You’re naïve, and easily spooked, but even you could put two and two together. Even your suspicions would start to rise as you questioned why there was a murder the night he went out. Why Ghostface hasn’t come back for you. You’d suspect him and he can’t have that, not when you’re already so fearful of him.

[emerald-chaos]

Insomnia

*gif not made by me, credit goes to the owner*

Hi Everyone! So it's been probably like...10 years since I wrote my last fic lol. Watching TFATWS has rekindled my undying love for Bucky Barnes and I just couldn't help but start writing again. I had to get my feelings out! I hope you guys enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it. I've been considering writing some more parts...so tell me if that's something you'd be interested in! I appreciate any and all constructive feedback or just feedback in general! Much love.

Pairing: Reader x Bucky Barnes

Word Count: 2533 (lowkey popped off...oops)

Warnings: Just in case...vague allusions to a dark past, struggles with mental illness, explicit language, and some suggestive conversation. Oh and some really bad jokes lol. Fluffy and angsty.

No matter how much you tossed and turned, how many sheep you counted, or how much you prayed and pleaded to any higher power that would listen – the release of sleep just wasn’t going to happen. You’re not sure why you were surprised, it’s not like this was the first time. You let out a heavy sigh and toss off the covers. This has been a nightly occurrence for as long as you can remember. When you were trying to rest, when there was no noise to block out the images in your head, it was a battle. A battle which you have always lost.

You flip on the bright florescent lights of the bathroom as you trudge in, dragging your feet in exhaustion. It takes a minute for your eyes to adjust to the harshness of the light as you place your hands onto the countertop. The cool marble feels good against your palms as you close your eyes and lean your head back, another sigh leaving your lips. You twist your neck from side to side, trying to release some tension and maybe get a satisfying pop. No such luck. As you open your eyes and gaze upon the person staring back at you a small laugh tumbles from your chest.

Jesus, she looks awful.

The dark circles that permanently reside below your eyes appear more pronounced than usual. The corners of your mouth hang low and you just look…tired. Like you were rode hard and put away wet.

The bottle of melatonin tucked away on your counter catches your eye. You pick it up and twirl it as you inspect the writing. “Sleep Support” you read, “may help promote restful sleep”. What a load of shit. You place the bottle back down and inspect the orange one next to it. The pills inside were about as useful as the melatonin. Nothing seemed to quiet the voices or stop the scenarios that plagued your mind. You splash some cold water on your face and grab for a towel to pat it dry. Your eyes drift to the mirror again, as if though the water was going to wash away the dead look in your eyes.

Yeah, fat chance.

Before you know it, your legs are carrying you through the compound. The only sounds present are the whirring of various appliances and the soft patter of your feet against the tile floors. The moonlight casts shadows over the various pieces of furniture and lights your path. Your fingers curl around the handle as you pull the sliding glass door open. The crisp outside air kisses your skin as you step out and close the door behind you. You find yourself settling down in your usual spot on the balcony and you sink into the comfort of the chair.

Many a sleepless night has been spent out here, admiring the way the moonlight gleams off of a nearby pond. Before the compound and the balcony, it was a fire escape and a bottle of bourbon. You kind of missed that coping mechanism a little bit. You were thankful, of course, to call this place your home. Thankful to feel safe for once. Thankful to be a part of a team that felt like more of a family than any sorry piece of shit who had been in your life before. Not that you were bitter about that or anything. A little baggage builds character. However, life hasn’t always been kind to you and your stupid brain had a cruel way of constantly reminding you of that fact.

In all honesty, Tony rescued you. You absolutely hated to allow him to relish in that fact, but it was true. He took a chance on a royally fucked up kid out of college who managed to skate by and earn a mechanical engineering degree. If you were to ask him, he would say it was because the first words you said to him were fuck off. Apparently, something about that translated to, “hey, I would be a great addition to your tech and development team”. Although, you were pretty sure you just really meant that he should fuck off. I mean, the guy’s reputation does have a bit of moral gray area to it. Somehow, some way, your tenacity made an impression on the billionaire. Now here you were - living at the Avenger’s compound, sitting on a balcony at 3:30 in the morning because you couldn’t turn your brain off long enough to find some peace and sleep. What a life.

Even as you were sitting here in your special spot, reminiscing about some actual good memories – your brain still tried to drift into the darkness. Glass breaking; voices, thick with hate, engaged in a screaming match, and the cold nights spent trying to find a safe space to eat and lay your head. Your fingers gripped into the arms of the chair as you felt the heaviness in your chest increase.

“God damn it,” you cursed through gritted teeth.

The panic attacks were a second nature at this point, but you still really hated when you lost control. Your eyes closed tight as you tried to rack your brain to remember the bullshit your therapist had told you earlier in the week. Something about 5 things you can see?

“We gotta stop meeting like this, Doll”

The voice ripped you from inside your mind and back to reality. Your eyes opened and were met with a beautiful pair of cerulean ones. You blamed the skip in your heartbeat on your fading panic attack - although, you knew better than that.

“Well, it seems to me that the only logical conclusion is that you’re stalking me, Barnes” you quipped as a grin spread across your face.

“Could say the same about you,” Bucky retorted as he sank into the chair beside you, “besides, been doin’ this a lot longer than you’ve been around”.

You rolled your eyes, but the super soldier had a point. Almost each and every time, aside from the ones that happened when the team was away, you two would meet like this – here on the balcony, both searching for something to replace the sleep that neither of you could find.

“Yeah, we get it, you’re old” a laugh fell from your lips as Bucky snorted at your remark, a grin remaining ever present on his lips.

The familiar silence took over as he leaned his head back against the chair, closing his eyes. Meanwhile, yours were hungrily taking him in - tracing over the stubble on his chin, the soft pinkness of his parted lips. Recently he’d gotten his hair cut and even though you much preferred the long hair, you would rather die than actually admit that to him. Your crush on the 106 year old grumpy ass was one of your best kept secrets. At least, you thought you’d kept it from being painfully obvious.

The man sitting before you, he had a tough exterior and a horrific history, but you knew him better than that. You knew about the way his nose scrunched up when you made him laugh and the way his eyes looked as he listened intently to every story you ever told him. You knew the sweet melody of his laugh and the far off stare that meant he was also held captive by his own thoughts. This late-night rendezvous had become somewhat of a routine for the two of you and you would be lying if you said it wasn’t your favorite part of the day.

The first time it was a short nod and typical white person, thin-lipped smile as you left to find a different spot to suffer alone. Shortly after, it developed into cohabiting the balcony – staying on your own separate sides of course, only occasionally sharing words. Then, before you knew it, the two of you would be sitting beside each other, shooting the shit like you’d known each other for years. Just two, incredibly fucked up individuals, trying to make each other feel a little more human.

Bucky had always given off the quiet, brooding energy. Typically he kept to himself, other than with close friends like Steve, choosing to stand in the corner and listen to the conversation rather than be a part of it. Occasionally he would give a quip during a meeting that would catch people off guard, but mostly he just sat there and stared. The Bucky you had come to know was nothing like the person that others wanted to make him out to be. Sure, at one point he was a masterful assassin who killed like he got pleasure from it – but that wasn’t him. The Winter Soldier and Bucky Barnes were not synonymous.

If only the world could meet Bucky at 3am.

“What’s going on in that empty head of yours over there?” Bucky’s voice once again brought you back to reality as you laid your eyes on the familiar grin plastered across his face.

“Please,” you huffed, cheeks tinted a light shade of pink at the thought of him catching you staring, “which one of us has a college degree again?”

His laugh was a symphony to your ears. Your smile mirrored his when he opened his eyes and turned his head to look at you.

“So, what is it tonight? That nightmare again?” he asked, voice dropping an octave as his facial features softened in a way you really hoped only you got to see.

“Mm, not quite” you responded, your voice a broken whisper.

Bucky wasn’t the type to pry, but with you he wouldn’t even have to. Talking to him, sharing your deepest secrets and fears, telling him about the nightmares that kept you awake at night – it all came easily. Too easily.

“This week it’s...it’s that image of my stupid mother. Standing there with her black eyes and busted lip, telling me that it was me that was the problem. That it was me who...” you swallowed hard, the heaviness creeping back into your chest and tears fighting to wet your eyes. God you hated that you let this get the best of you.

Just as your mind started to bring you back to that dark place it was interrupted by the feeling of warmth spreading over your body. You looked down to see Bucky’s large hand resting right above your knee. When your eyes met again, he gave you a soft look that made your heart scream.

“I’m sorry,” you could tell he meant it as he gave your knee a soft squeeze.

A small smile flashed over your face and you had to resist the urge to reach out and cup his soft, stubbled cheek in your hand.

“Hey, we’re all a little fucked up, right?” you joked.

“Some more than others,” he replied, those beautiful wrinkles appearing around his nose as he scrunched it up with another laugh.

“Thanks, Buck... I’m sure you’d rather be doing anything other than listening to my sob story,” you reluctantly broke eye contact and looked down at the hem of your shirt as you fiddled with it in your fingers.

You were all too aware at the loss of contact as Bucky drew his hand back and leaned back into his chair.

“Doll,” he started as he leaned his head back and closed his eyes again - you could swear you almost saw a grin on his lips, “there are very few things I’d rather do than sit with you on the balcony at 3am”.

At that moment it felt as though time stood still. Sure, you had flirtatious banter back and forth occasionally and made a habit out of spilling your deepest regrets to each other during the wee hours of the morning, but this felt different. This felt like a confession.

You’d be lying to yourself if you tried to convince yourself, or anyone else for that matter, that you didn’t have a thing for him. I mean - who wouldn’t? The guy was a gentleman; he was soft spoken and caring, he was a dork who loved to crack jokes at the most inappropriate times, the type of person who would give you the shirt off of his own back if it meant you were taken care of.

He....well, he was Bucky.

And god damn it if you didn’t love him.

You’re unsure of how much time has passed, but one minute you’re sitting on your chair, chewing your lip and droning on about the man in front of you in your head. The next minute you found yourself on his lap, knees seated on either side of his waist as your legs straddle him and your hands connect with the skin they so desperately craved to feel. Bucky’s eyes opened slowly and met yours as you let the pad of your thumb gently run along the curve of his bottom lip. The uneven breaths leaving your chest hitched as you felt his hands grip your hips softly. Refusing to break eye contact, Bucky gently pressed a kiss to the pad of your thumb. You dragged his lower lip down briefly.

“Well,” he began. His voice was barely above a whisper but it’s thick, lustful tone made you shiver from head to...well, you know, “are you gonna kiss me, Doll? Or do I have to do all the work myself?”

He barely finished his sentence before your lips captured his. It was messy, almost all teeth and tongue. It was needy, as if it was the last time either of you would ever kiss anyone again. It was fucking incredible.

Bucky’s metal arm snaked up your back and found its way into your hair, curling his fingers gently around the strands at the back of your head, as his other arm wrapped around your waist and pulled you closer to his form. He was intoxicating. This whole situation was something you had briefly imagined months ago, but ultimately pushed out of your mind. There was no way that he would ever be interested in someone like you. Yet, here he was, tongue fighting for entrance into your mouth.

You aren’t quite sure who pulled away first. Both of you were gasping for air, chests heaving up and down as you both stared into each other's lust-blown pupils.

“You kiss pretty well for someone who hasn’t had a girlfriend since 1940,” you teased, laughing as he rolls his eyes at the comment.

“You just don’t know when to shut that mouth of yours, do ya?” he practically growled, ever so slightly tightening his grip on your waist, and you almost lost it from just the sound of his voice alone.

“Why don’t you make me, Barnes?” you leaned in close, warm breath fanning over the shell of his ear.

A yelp escaped your throat as you were suddenly jerked up to a standing position, locking your ankles behind his back as he effortlessly held you up by your thighs.

“Oh Doll,” he chuckled darkly into your neck, almost making you pass out from the sensation, “I thought you’d never ask”.