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plainclothesdisaster · 5 months ago

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DPxDC Mechanical Engineer Danny

Danny caught the attention of Batman while studying at Gotham University for his alternative energy projects. He’s hired right out of college to work on the Watchtower.

He shows absolutely no tell of his abilities till there’s a dire situation- Flash’s electric discharge messes with one of his projects in progress and the whole base would have lost air pressure if he hadn’t done a quick fix using telekinesis and ice.

Of course Batman notices.

Batman assumes the worst- he suspects Danny’s a rogue of some kind, someone who has infiltrated the Justice League with an ulterior motive. But he can’t just fire Danny now- he’s the only one who knows how the new Watchtower energy source works. Plus, he’s not letting Danny go anywhere until he’s figured out his true motives.

Cue Batman subtly testing Danny- tossing things at him to trigger inhuman fast reflexes, having him lift too-heavy machinery, setting up convenient opportunities to steal or snoop or otherwise be up to no good. Danny does take advantage but only once, to use a computer terminal with unlocked clearance. He didn’t plant any bugs that Barman could find, and he otherwise kept up his powerless civilian act perfectly.

Still, Batman’s not satisfied. He brings an infrasonic sound emitter to Danny’s lab one day, and that, of all things, is what gets Danny to break.

“I know what you’re doing,” Danny admits with a sigh, finally. “If you’re really that suspicious of me, I can leave, but I kinda like my job so I’d prefer not to. The benefits are insane compared to what’s standard.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Sure. yeah. How about you turn off the freaking noise generator and we can talk?”

“Hm.” Batman obliges, and he takes the stool next to Danny at his gesture.

“Number one, I’m not a meta. Despite all the data and conclusions you’ve probably drawn otherwise. Number two, I’m on your side. I’m here to work on the base, that’s it. I follow your rules to the letter.”

“The-“

“The classified files I looked at? Yeah that was the one exception. You already know what I looked at, I’m sure, but maybe you haven’t figured out why. It goes back to point one- I may not be a meta, but I am something that organization, the GIW, cares about. I looked at your files on them to sus out your relations. Seeing as I don’t particularly love being the victim to twelve degrees of human rights violations if I can avoid it.”

“Hm.” The Ghost Intelligence Ward was one of many government agencies that the Justice League hadn’t worked closely with. But they also hadn’t been flagged for Justice League investigation. Danny’s comments made him doubt that call.

“Any other questions?”

“If you’re not a meta, what are you?”

“I’m an engineer. A pretty decent one. And I’d really, really like it to stay that way.”

Batman considers, and ultimately lets him stay. He likes Danny (everyone likes Danny), and it would be a massive pain in the ass to replace him. He really is a good engineer.

It’s only much later that his faith in Danny is repaid in spades.

Batman finds Danny on the Watchtower command bridge. Alarms are blaring, the station has been knocked out of orbit, out the window there’s shrapnel floating everywhere as a space battle rages around them.

On the station it’s chaos. Technicians run around, shouts from the med bay, sparks from the walls.

Batman and Danny stand at the main controls, watching the battle outside, stoic, unmoving.

Wonder Woman’s harried voice crackles through on coms: “We need backup.”

“There is no more backup.” Batman replies, while looking pointedly at Danny.

“What?”

Batman doesn’t move.

“What.”

“The impact from Darkseid’s initial attack should have sent this station on a terminal trajectory toward the planet.”

“Well. We aren’t currently plummeting to our deaths, so turns out it didn’t do that.”

“You did something.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You’re lying.”

“Maybe Superman nudged us back on course in all the chaos.”

“I’ve been watching the trackers. No one else with the capability has come near the station.”

“Can’t you just be grateful we got lucky?”

Sounds of peril screech over the coms. Danny’s face scrunches.

“Luck had nothing to do with it. As it is now, we are going to lose this fight.”

“Isn’t there anyone else you can call?”

“I’m asking you. You can help, can’t you?”

The glare-off lasts a long moment more before Danny breaks.

“Fuck. Fuckity fuck.” Danny runs his hands through his hair. “Shit. You don’t know what you’re asking.”

“I’m asking you to save this and countless other worlds from a genocide. I’m also asking you to save my friends.”

Danny looks at him, hard, weary, and with a kind of deep resolve that feels far too ancient to be on the face of a supposed twenty-something.

“Fine. Fine. Okay.” He steps back and transforms. If Batman is surprised when he shakes off his human appearance like an old coat, he doesn’t show it. But what’s undeniable is the being in Danny’s place has the unmistakable presence of power.

“No one else can know.” His voice echoes in a way that’s sonically impossible, both sounding closer and further away than he should be.

He pulls a gear-shaped medallion seemingly out of thin air and puts it over his head in one motion.

“If I get in trouble for this, I’m blaming you.”

He vanishes. Outside, the shape of the battle changes instantly. The stars seem to glow brighter as the arms of the galaxy flash with the colors of the aurora. Then it’s like the void of space itself comes alive. It moves the spaceships back like they’re toys, plucking them from one side of the field to the other. It finds Darkseid at the heart of the chaos and massive arms of nothingness and darkness wrap around him. He’s screaming as it swallows him whole.

His armies scatter. The battle turns. The JL deal with the stragglers, but the air of relief is palpable.

Danny reappears next to Batman, once again donning his grease-stained coveralls. Arms folded.

“Happy?”

It took all of five minutes. Less, probably. Batman tamps down a thousand questions.

“Thank you.”

“I’m gonna need two weeks off minimum.” Danny snaps. “One to deal with the bureaucratic nightmare you’ve just caused me, and another to recover from the headache.”

Batman blanks. “Granted.”

Danny sighs. “And I’m not fixing the station until I’m back. It won’t fall out of the sky as is. Make up whatever excuse you want.”

“Done.” He considers. “I would prefer to tell them the truth. That you saved us.”

Danny glares. “I’m not supposed to save you. I made a pact not to use my power to influence the mortal realm.”

“A pact with who?”

Danny rolls his eyes. “The embodiment of Time. The concept of Justice. Among others.” He smirks at Batman’s confusion.

“And what, exactly, does that make you?”

He stands, framed by the space window, haloed by the stars. “I’ll give you three guesses.”

Batman frowns.

“Look. I like you guys. I like working on your base. I like supporting the work you do. But you can not go factoring me in to any of your plans or contingencies. This was a one time thing.

“So to answer your question again: I’m an engineer.”

#dpxdc #dp x dc #dc x dp #danny phantom #batman #justice league #dp x dc prompt #as with all my lil blurbs if anyone wants to build off it or write their version pls do #ancients aren’t technically allowed to mess with the human realm but Danny can disobey clockwork and help Batman #as a treat #dp #my writing

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zhlabfurniture · 3 months ago

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Top Features to Look for in a Science Lab Stool

A science lab stool may seem like a simple piece of furniture, but its importance should not be underestimated. Whether for a school, research facility, or medical lab, choosing the right stool ensures comfort, safety, and efficiency. This guide highlights what to consider before buying a science lab stool, from features to maintenance tips.

Why the Right Science Lab Stool Matters

A well-chosen stool supports both productivity and safety in the lab. Poor-quality stools can lead to discomfort, reduced focus, and even accidents. A durable, ergonomic, and easy-to-clean stool is essential for any lab setup.

Key Features of a Science Lab Stool

Durability and Material

The durability of a lab stool directly impacts its performance and longevity.

Benefits of High-Quality Materials

Stainless steel lab stools crafted from sturdy materials like stainless steel, polypropylene, or reinforced plastics offer better wear resistance. These materials endure the demands of daily lab use without cracking or bending.

Resistance to Chemicals and Stains

Labs often encounter spills from chemicals or stains from solutions. Stools with chemical-resistant finishes and stain-proof surfaces maintain their appearance and integrity longer.

Comfort and Ergonomics

Lab work often involves long hours, so comfort is a top priority.

Adjustable Heights for Versatility

Height-adjustable stools accommodate users of varying heights, making them ideal for shared workspaces. These stools can also adapt to different table heights, enhancing usability.

Padded vs. Non-Padded Options

For labs that require extended sitting periods, padded stools offer superior comfort. However, non-padded stools are often easier to clean and more resistant to damage in wet environments.

Safety Features

Lab environments can be hectic, making safety a must-have.

Non-Slip Base

Stools with non-slip bases provide stability on smooth lab floors, reducing the risk of accidents.

Stability for Busy Labs

A wide base ensures the stool remains stable even when users shift their weight. This is particularly crucial in high-traffic labs or educational settings.

Easy Maintenance

Regular cleaning and upkeep can extend the life of a stool.

Cleaning Considerations

Opt for stools with smooth surfaces and minimal crevices to simplify cleaning. This helps maintain hygiene in labs where cleanliness is critical.

Wear-and-Tear Management

Look for stools with replaceable parts, such as seat cushions or footrests, to save on replacement costs over time.

How to Maintain Your Science Lab Stool for Longevity

Regular Cleaning: Wipe down the stool after every use to remove spills and debris.

Inspect for Damage: Check for loose screws or worn-out parts and replace them promptly.

Follow Manufacturer Guidelines: Use approved cleaning agents and avoid harsh chemicals to preserve the finish.

Choosing the right science lab stool ensures a safe, efficient, and comfortable workspace. By focusing on key features like durability, comfort, and safety, you can make a well-informed decision. For premium lab stools, trust ZH LAB Furniture—your partner in creating top-notch lab environments.

Trust ZH LAB Furniture for Premium Science Lab Stools to Enhance Your Lab Environment

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Elevate your laboratory setup with our exceptional science lab stools and provide users with the best tools for a comfortable, efficient, and safe work environment. Experience the difference with ZH LAB Furniture—your trusted partner for superior lab furniture!

#lab stool #lab furniture

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rosemaryhoney27 · 10 days ago

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Dead End Diner

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The neon sign above the little corner diner buzzed faintly, its flickering letters spelling out The Dead End. Rain drizzled from the Gotham sky, casting reflections of sickly green and crimson across the slick asphalt. Crime, chaos, and capes ruled the night—but inside the warm diner, a world of sizzling grills, greasy coffee, and ghost-proof walls thrived in peace.

Danny Fenton wiped down the countertop, ghost core humming gently with contentment.

Leaving Amity Park had been easy once his parents screamed the word “monster.” The lab accident that gave him ghost powers had changed everything, and not everyone could handle the truth. Especially Jack and Maddie Fenton.

Vlad Masters hadn’t taken rejection well either. Maddie still wanted nothing to do with him—half ghost or not. In a final, dramatic end, Vlad destroyed his ghost half and drank himself into the grave. The only note he left behind was a signed will, bequeathing everything to Daniel Fenton.

So now Danny was wealthy.

And utterly, devastatingly bored.

Money didn’t thrill him. Mansions made him feel lonely. Charity galas were stiff and full of liars. So he’d packed up and moved to the most chaotic, unpredictable, high-stakes city he could think of: Gotham.

He bought a crumbling building right in the Narrows, cleaned it out, reinforced it with ghost tech and some stolen WayneTech from Vlad’s stash, and opened a 24/7 diner.

He called it The Dead End.

It was a hit almost instantly. Not because of the food, though it was great (Danny had a mean hand with greasy spoons), but because of the way he ran it.

“Pay if you can, eat if you’re hungry, and don’t be a jerk.”

Word spread. The homeless knew they’d get warm soup and hot fries. Night-shift nurses sat next to henchmen on break. Cops blinked awkwardly at villains scarfing pancakes. No fights, no weapons, no questions. If a rogue battle broke out outside, people flooded in for shelter. Danny never locked the doors.

He sat behind the counter and watched the madness through the windows, eating his waffles in peace. If he had to step out and go invisible to redirect a missile away from his roof, well, that was his business.

Gotham’s vigilantes didn’t see it that way.

Nightwing was the first to break in.

Danny caught him perched on the rafters like an oversized, very broody bat.

“You want eggs or pancakes?” Danny asked, not looking up from his crossword puzzle.

“…I’m not here to eat.”

“Then you broke into my diner for nothing? That’s kinda rude.” Danny gestured to the stools. “Sit. I’m not feeding a potential burglar unless he’s sitting.”

Grumbling, Nightwing slid down and took a seat.

A week later, Red Hood tripped the back alarm. He got a grilled cheese shoved into his hands before he could say a word.

Tim Drake hacked the registers. Danny dumped a milkshake in his lap and gave him a free slice of pie “as an apology.”

Spoiler got caught trying to blend in by wearing a hoodie. She got extra whipped cream and a “next time just ask for a table.”

They kept coming. Not even Batman himself was immune. One evening, the lights flickered and dimmed as a familiar voice echoed behind him.

“You’re not what you seem.”

Danny, utterly unbothered, slid a coffee mug across the counter.

“And you look like you need caffeine and a therapist.”

The cowl’s frown deepened. “How is your building still standing after Joker launched a rocket at this block?”

“I reinforced it,” Danny said, sipping his soda. “Ghost-proof, explosion-dampening, and built with spite. That helps.”

“You let known criminals hide here.”

“I let everyone hide here. I’m not a cop, Bats. I’m a fry cook.”

“You’re not just a fry cook.”

Danny’s eyes shimmered green.

“No,” he said. “I’m also a ghost. Now sit your haunted butt down and let me feed you before you faint from low blood sugar.”

Eventually, the Bats gave up trying to prove he was a villain.

Instead, they started… showing up.

Red Robin brought his laptop and camped at a booth during patrol. He claimed it was “recon,” but Danny always brought him extra hash browns.

Red Hood “accidentally” forgot his helmet once and got his favorite booth permanently labeled “Angry Soup Guy.”

Nightwing flirted with the waitress, annoyed Danny to no end, and somehow ended up helping wash dishes on busy nights.

Even Batman… tolerated the place. He’d never admit it, but he once grunted “thanks” after Danny saved Batgirl from getting crushed by falling debris—without revealing her identity or asking questions.

The Rogues started calling Danny “Ghost Chef.”

The vigilantes? “Spook Fry.”

He’d been called worse.

One night, just before closing, Danny flipped the sign to CLOSED and leaned against the window. Outside, Scarecrow and Batwoman were having a rooftop showdown. The sky was full of smoke and red light. He yawned.

Behind him, Damian Wayne sat sipping a very serious cup of cocoa and glared at the sugar skull art on the wall.

“You’re suspicious,” Damian said. “You let Joker’s goons eat here last week.”

“They paid in stolen casino chips. I took it. Better than nothing.”

“You don’t fear us.”

“I don’t fear much.”

Damian narrowed his eyes. “You’re hiding something.”

Danny winked. “Aren’t we all?”

The Dead End became legend.

A safe zone. A neutral ground. A place where Penguin’s thugs might sit next to Batgirl and silently agree not to wreck the place.

Danny never asked questions, and he always served the best damn pancakes in Gotham.

He’d been disowned. Betrayed. Abandoned. But in Gotham, the city of masks and monsters, he found peace in chaos, purpose in pancakes, and power in doing what no one else dared: building something kind in a world built on fear.

And honestly?

That was way more fun than being rich.

#dpxdc #danny fenton #danny phantom #batman #danny fenton is a little shit

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sixeyesonathiel · 4 days ago

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you should’ve read the damn contract.

but you were desperate. truly desperate. broke to your bones, barely scraping by on instant noodles and tap water. you had holes in your socks, a phone with a shattered screen, and a wallet so empty it echoed. the idea of splurging on a sex toy? laughable. you couldn’t even afford a second-hand toothbrush. so when the sign-up form for "assistant tester" promised fast money with zero qualifications, you didn’t hesitate. clicked agree. no reading. no questions.

and now?

you’re strapped to a glossy, too-clean chair in a sterile lab with your legs spread wide, bound in place. and between them, humming softly with unholy precision, is a goddamn vibrator from the future.

silver, contoured, sleek—latched in place by soft restraints, the head of it resting firm and perfectly angled against your clit. it’s warm from its internal thermal sync, fitted with pressure-reactive gel pads and frequency mapping. you hadn’t even known vibrators could do this. it’s more machine than toy. and you are its first test subject.

“no offense,” satoru drawls, voice impossibly casual as he leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees, “but you’re twitching like a virgin in a wind tunnel. and this is literally the lowest setting.”

he grins around the end of a candy stick he’s been chewing for the last ten minutes, bright blue eyes tracking the shivers running down your body. his lab coat hangs off one shoulder like he forgot it halfway through putting it on, and his black compression shirt clings tight to his lean frame beneath it. his pants ride low on his hips where he’s slouched, thighs spread, casual in posture but intent in gaze. the goggles meant for "serious" testing sit uselessly on his forehead, pushing back his mess of white hair, strands sticking out in static waves.

his eyes flicker with amusement, mouth quirking as he watches your body react, fascinated. “don’t tell me,” he says, spinning slightly in his chair with a nudge of his heel. “you’ve never used a toy before.”

you jerk when the vibrator pulses, and your breath shudders. your thighs tremble as you try to close your legs on instinct—only to be kept wide open by the straps. your brows knit, lips parting in a soundless gasp, skin flushed from your cheeks to your collarbones. “i... haven’t,” you admit, voice barely above a whisper.

satoru blinks. then brightens. “what? oh my god. you’re serious?”

his grin widens—vicious and delighted.

“holy shit, this is even better than i thought. you signed up for high-grade prototype testing and your poor little pussy’s never even met a toothbrush’s vibration mode?”

“satoru!” you cry, humiliated, squirming against the relentless buzz between your legs. your hips twitch with every pass, toes curling in their restraints, spine arching slightly as the pleasure sneaks up your nerves.

he laughs like this is the best thing that’s happened all week. “nah, this is so good. write that down,” he mock-mumbles, pretending to scribble on his tablet. “subject is hopelessly inexperienced. results? extremely promising.”

he rolls his stool closer, the wheels creaking as he leans in. his breath fans across your thigh. he moves with lazy confidence, legs spreading slightly wider, hands loosely folded over his knees.

“can you even tell what part is making you moan like that? is it the pulses? the heat setting? or is it just the fact that someone’s finally paying attention to that sad little clit of yours?”

your hands grip the armrests harder, knuckles white. your face twists with the effort to stay composed, but another whimper escapes, and your lashes flutter from the building sensation. every hum of the vibrator sends your hips bucking.

“stop staring,” you choke, voice breaking from the mix of shame and pleasure.

he snorts. “what, you shy now? sweetheart, you’re on my table, strapped open, soaking my tech. i’m doing you a favor.”

he flicks a finger against the side of the vibrator casually. it twitches in response.

you gasp, whole body jolting. your eyes fly open wide, lips quivering as your muscles lock up for a moment.

he watches your back arch, eyes sharp and entirely too smug. “god, that’s adorable. you really don’t know what to do with it. how long you been walking around with a cunt that’s never been spoiled?”

beep.

he taps the tablet.

the vibration intensifies.

your whole body jumps, a startled moan ripping from your throat. your eyes squeeze shut, face contorting as your chest heaves in shallow gasps.

“ohhhh yeah,” he says, eyes gleaming. “now that’s the sound i needed on record. keep goin’, princess.”

you shake your head furiously, tears pricking at your eyes. your shoulders twitch with every wave of stimulation. “satoru—i c-can’t—”

“you can,” he says, nudging your thigh with his foot. “that’s literally the point. now stop whining and let the tech do its job. unless you want to redo all the calibration logs.”

he leans forward suddenly, forearms on either side of your thighs. he’s close now, close enough that you can feel the heat of his body, the sharpness in his gaze as he watches you break apart. “you’re already crying and we haven’t even hit auto-rhythm. wanna see what happens when we let it pick the pattern it thinks you like best?”

“no—!”

beep.

too late.

he watches you twitch and writhe, cheeks flushed, lips trembling from overstimulation. your cunt is soaked. the toy hums louder. your jaw slackens as you pant, barely holding onto your sense of self.

“god,” he mutters, not even trying to hide the awe in his voice, “you’re gonna short-circuit the sensors with how wet you are. is this what happens when broke girls finally get some tech between their legs?”

you let out a strangled sound—half moan, half sob—as your body twists against the restraints, chest heaving in shallow bursts. your head tosses to the side, hair clinging damply to your temple, strands sticking from the sheen of sweat along your brow.

satoru tilts his head, one white brow arching lazily as if he’s genuinely puzzled. his lip tugs up in amusement, eyes gleaming with mischief under the fringe of silver bangs. “what’s wrong? you wanna stop?”

your voice breaks on a whisper, barely audible through your trembling breath. “yes,” you whimper, eyes glassy, lashes wet.

he flashes a grin—wide and obnoxiously bright, the corner of his mouth dimpling as he leans back on his stool, spine stretching in a casual roll like he’s just lounging at a bar, not orchestrating your unraveling. “too bad. you signed a full-cycle clause. twenty minutes minimum.”

his wrist lifts casually, tablet tilted toward him with a flick of his fingers. his thumb scrolls the screen like he’s checking a grocery list. “we’re only at seven.”

“satoru, please—” your voice cracks on the plea, lip quivering as your hips instinctively try to shy away from the overstimulation.

he doesn’t even blink. “oh now you’re begging. yeah, that’s goin’ in the notes.” he mutters it more to himself than you, tapping something in lazily, though his eyes never leave the way your body squirms.

his hand comes down slow, deliberate, resting lightly on your hipbone. the heat of his palm spreads through the thin fabric of the gown they’d given you, and his fingers flex slightly, just enough to feel the way your muscles tremble beneath his touch. you flinch—just barely—but he catches it, and his lashes lower in interest.

“try to keep your voice down, though,” he says, tapping your thigh twice like it’s nothing. “walls are thin. or don’t. up to you.”

then he leans back again, reclining just slightly in his seat, one knee bouncing idly, clipboard resting across it. the corner of his smile twitches as he watches your face twist again, eyes fluttering shut. “science is beautiful, huh?”

#gojo satoru #gojo drabble #gojo smut #gojo x reader #gojo x reader smut #gojo x female reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo satoru x reader #jjk x reader #satoru gojo x you #satoru gojo x y/n #satoru gojo x reader #jjk smut #jjk drabbles

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marvelwitchergilmore · 4 months ago

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Something More

Summary: Bucky Barnes x fe!Reader -> Since you met Bucky, he's always looked at you with...something more. And you never knew why. One day, you finally find out what he means by it.

Disclaimer: mentions of cheating and swearing, revenge on cheating ex. Bucky deals with said cheating ex. Descriptions of naked/slightly naked Bucky though nothing too explicit. Fluff, found family vibes, Sam and Bucky bickering. Use of nicknames (specifically 'doll'). Not Proof Read.

“What are you still doing here?”

Bucky had just passed your lab. As far as he was aware, you should have left work hours ago. You should have been getting ready, listening to whatever playlist you’d compiled with Wanda, picking your outfit with that perfect smile on your face as you looked in your mirror to fix your lipstick.

So why were you still here?

You looked up, looking for him and where his voice had travelled from. Your gaze found him standing back in the doorway. The lights behind him were dimer than they usually would be. After the clocks turned six in the evening, they did that to save on energy – even then, they’d only come on if they sensed someone. Before he’d walked down the corridor, the only lights on had been inside your lab with you.

“Oh, hey.” You turned back to your work. “Just wanted to get some things finished before tomorrow. Hoping Tony might give me half a day.”

Bucky felt himself chuckle as he walked inside. “You do the work of three people. If you asked him, he’d tell you to take a week off.”

You chuckled because you knew it to be true. But you also didn’t like taking too much time away from work. You actually liked your job and the people you worked with. Some more than most.

“But that still doesn’t answer my question. Shouldn’t you be on your date right about now?”

Bucky looked at his watch. 9:20pm.

“Oh, uh,” You tried your best to avoid his gaze as you looked away from him. “Yeah…yeah, probably.”

Bucky studied you. And you could feel him doing so. The way he stood there, clipboard loose in his hand and by his side, his eyes fixed on your body, noticing how your shoulders tensed, how you tried your best to hide away from him despite you both being the only two in the room.

“What happened?”

“Nothing. Everything’s fine.”

Bucky shook his head and pulled up one of your rolling stools until he was sitting down and facing you. “What happened?”

“It doesn’t matter-”

“Yes, it does.”

You forced a smile, still not looking at him but rather at whatever contraption you’d pulled apart only to rebuild again.

“No, it-”

“It does because you never hide anything from me.”

“Mostly because I can’t,” you muttered to yourself but by the soft chuckle from Bucky, he’d heard you.

“What is it? What’s going on? Why are you still here?”

It took you a moment but eventually you put down the motherboard and finally looked at him. “If I tell you, it doesn’t leave this room. I don’t need the questions and I don’t need a plethora of super-humans marching or flying down to defend my honour.”

He didn’t like where the conversation was heading but Bucky reluctantly agreed.

“I’m not on the date, but Matthew is.”

Matthew was your boyfriend of three years. Bucky had met him a handful of times and he seemed nice enough, but there was always something Bucky didn’t like about him. How he talked, how he walked, how he seemingly didn’t realise how lucky he was to have you.

“What are you-”

With your hands folded in your lap, you continued to explain. “The date that I told Wanda about, the one that was meant to be for tonight?”

Bucky nodded.

“Well, what I thought was meant to be a surprise for me was actually…a surprise for my best friend. Ex-best friend,” you corrected yourself. “Matthew didn’t think I would find out, but when I asked him if I should take any days off work soon, he said no. I thought it was just a fluke, but it wasn’t.”

“Y/n-”

“Matthew broke up with me a week later.”

“What?”

You saw the subtle changes in Bucky’s demeanour as you told him. How his gaze and eyes grew darker, how his shoulders became stiff and alert, how his fists clenched on the table.

You took a breath. “Matthew broke up with me three weeks ago, but I’m okay.”

“Okay? Okay? I’ll kill him.”

You shot out of your seat and rushed ahead of him, stopping him in his tracks.

“Bucky Bucky, Bucky, stop. Stop, okay. Look, I’m fine. And I promise, I am okay. Guess finding out that your boyfriend has been sleeping with your supposed best friend for six months kinda softens the aftermath of the break-up.”

“Six months?!”

“Just…sit down? Please?”

It took a little longer than a minute, but eventually he sat back down and you picked up the clipboard that had been dropped to the floor and handed it back to him.

“How can you be okay?”

You smiled, even if it was still a little sad. “Because I’ve dealt with it.”

“How?”

“Poured glitter into their new washing machine, as well as onto all of their clothes,” you admitted. “Stole the plate out of the microwave, took the hand pumps out of the soap, threw out the car wax from his cleaning kit. You know, just small things that will cause them a nuisance for a lifetime.”

Bucky felt himself laugh. “Remind me never to piss you off.”

“Don’t have to,” you smiled. “You know better.”

“Yeah, I do. I’m sorry, Y/n.”

You just shrugged, trying to ignore the sting in your heart. “It’s okay.”

Bucky’s eyes followed you around the table until you sat back down in your seat. “No, it’s not. I’m sorry he didn’t know how good he had it.”

You looked up at him. “Thanks, Buck.”

“I mean it, Y/n. I know you loved him. He didn’t deserve you.”

You felt his words wash over you and settle into your bones. You’d been dealing with the break up on your own. You knew you didn’t have to, but it was easier. Simpler. But hearing him tell you that…it was worth its weight in gold.

You tried your best to place that familiar look in his eyes as he looked at you. It wasn’t pity, or sadness. Well, maybe a little. But there was something else there. Something…more. You’d noticed it before but even then you couldn’t have given it a name. It was just…

Something More.

Like he knew something you didn’t. Like he was trying to tell you something he didn’t have the courage to say out loud.

“Want me to take you home?”

You shook your head, “No, it’s okay. I can-”

But then he gave you that smile that always made your stomach do a little flip. The way his lips curved in the corner on his mouth, a slightly sassy but genuine look in his eyes.

“Come on, I’ll take you home.”

With a grateful smile, you smiled and stood up. On the way out, Bucky helped you remove your lab coat before helping put on your actual one. From there, he waited for you to lock up before you finally reached his car and hopped into the passenger seat.

You’d placed your new address into the car’s GPS and explained to Bucky why you had a new one.

“Even if she hadn’t moved in, I wouldn’t have wanted to stay there on my own. Knowing everything they’d done together?” You shook your head. “I would have moved, anyway.”

Bucky seemed to adjust himself in his seat, one hand on the wheel as the other rested in between himself and you.

“Maybe it’s a good thing you didn’t tell the rest of us.”

You chuckled, already knowing what he was thinking. You knew you’d have to tell them eventually. And you would. Preferably in a place where they couldn’t all suddenly disappear on you or wouldn’t see the masked pain behind your expression which would only lead to more questions.

You’d become friends with the team not long after you’d joined Shield. Tony had studied your work, produced in Shield labs and instantly had given you an offer to work with him on a permanent basis. Before you could finish spending the day thinking about it, you had orders from Hill telling you, you were to become the new resident Lab Tech at the Compound.

You’d worked along-side Tony and the rest of his science team, fixed equipment for the team and eventually found a friendship with them all individually.

Wanda had been the first one; she’d been looking for someone to talk to since Clint was out for the day for Training new recruits. The next had been Tony and Natasha and very soon after had been Clint, Bruce and finally Steve.

Steve had been away on back-to-back missions which resulted in him being one of the last. Within a week of him returning, you’d met everyone else since Tony had decided to throw a party.

You had asked why, but Pepper had just told you that to Tony it was “just because” but she’d worked on a mission plan. Charity Gala. She’s planned the whole thing with Peter’s Aunt.

It was at that gala that Bucky had first met your boyfriend. At the time, you’d both only been dating eight months.

“Did you buy a renovation?”

You dug into your bag for your keys but nodded. “Yeah. It’s kinda been a nice distraction.”

“Do you know what you’re doing?”

You looked at him, a little offended. “I’m an engineer.”

“I know.” Bucky was still taking in the property. “I’ve met you. Are you sure you know what you’re doing?”

Bucky had seen you build some of the most complicated tech in the world. A handful of times, even Shuri had been shocked and impressed. But he’d also seen you try and build a bookshelf from Ikea on your own.

“I’ll be fine.”

“I’ve got some weekends free.” Bucky told you. “I’ll help you.”

“You don’t have to-”

“I want to.”

You were taken slightly aback as you saw the smile on his face. But you smiled back anyway. He’d always had that effect on you.

“Okay.”

The following six weekends were filled with stripping old paint, pulling out and replacing rotten floors and beams, plastering walls and securing the foundations. The building had been with the bank for almost thirty years. Nobody had ever wanted to buy it.

You’d guessed it had been built in the forties, or thereabouts. A covered porch had been added on to equal the starting point of the front steps, the shutters on the front windows had either been missing or hanging on by a rotten nail so they were soon replaced. There were three matching windows set at equal distance from each other upstairs. One in the middle and one on either side of it – all facing the front of the home. The garden was overgrown to the point where wildflowers had over run themselves and probably created a new breed.

The back was much in the same way; a covered porch, windows, shutters, and a larger back garden perfect for an allotment and space for kids or dogs to run around.

Eventually, those six weeks turned into six months.

You did what you could within the week and Bucky helped with the rest at the weekends. When Sam found out Bucky was helping, he pitched in, too. Though, he was more helpful when placed away from Bucky and at the other side of the house. That had been something you’d learned quickly. They worked well together but the amount of hours they spent arguing about how to paint…

It was safe to say you’d taped out their own spaces in the house and they were not allowed to cross the tape unless they needed a bathroom break or a snack.

Wanda had been more than helpful on the days where they’d both decided to sneak past the tape and judge each other's work.

“Hey, hey, hey, would you- Wanda, put me down.”

“Stay in your tape.”

After the first three months, you were finally able to go out and buy new furniture and return the rented ones.

“Left a bit, left a bit.”

“We need to go right.”

“No, we need to go left.”

Wanda leaned over to you. “How long have they been like this?”

“Two hours. I have tried.”

You sighed and crossed your arms, watching as Sam and Bucky tried to take your new sofa inside.

“Right, right. Now go up.”

“Up?”

“Yes, up?”

“What are you gonna do? Make it fly?”

Sam just started at Bucky.

“Oh, for the love of-”

As you threw your arms into the air, Wanda laughed and started walking towards them. Eventually they dropped the furniture and she moved it herself. It fit through your door simply – just as you had expected before the double comedy act decided to take charge.

Finally, after six long months of stripping, plastering, painting, repainting, rearranging, building, and everything in between, you were finally done.

You and Bucky lay on the floor together, staring at the ceiling, your beers sweating with condensation onto the placemats.

“Thank you for helping me.”

“Don’t mention it.”

“As much as I love my new kitchen, I think I’m just gonna order in. What do you want?”

“Where are you getting it from?”

After twenty minutes, you and Bucky had decided on a place and ordered two pizzas with a side of fries. “Half an hour. Right.” You stood from the floor. “I’m going for a shower. You can hop in after me.”

Bucky was glad your back was turned from him since he could feel the heat spread across him.

“Why?”

“Because you stink.”

You heard him laugh. Since day one, you’d never held back from telling him what you thought. It was one of the things he loved about you.

Upstairs, you turned the shower and stepped inside only to watch the dust and paint flakes fall down with the water and into the drain. Twenty minutes later, your hair was washed for the third time that week – white paint from your skirting boards following the suds of the shampoo.

And then Bucky walked up the stairs.

As he reached the top of the staircase and turned his head down the hall, he called out your name.

“Shower’s free! Just getting dressed!”

“Hey, uh, I-I left you something downstairs. Feel free to open it!”

“Really? Okay.”

Bucky smiled before walking into your bathroom and closing the door but leaving it cracked open slightly. The steam was still leaving the room and he couldn’t open the window just yet.

However, what he didn’t notice as he carefully got undressed was you walking down the hall. Fresh in your pajamas which consisted of an old t-shirt and shorts, you towel dried your hair except in the defogging mirror in your bathroom, you caught a glimpse of Bucky.

Naked Bucky.

His back was turned to the mirror, his muscles lightly flexing as he moved to draw back the shower curtain and step into the shower. You tried to ignore the way your heart fluttered in your chest or how your legs unconsciously clamped together as you looked at him.

But as the curtain was drawn back, hiding him from sight, you took in a small breath before hurrying down the hallway, down the stairs and into the living room.

You were thankful Bucky was in the shower at that moment in fear of him seeing and knowing what the embarrassed and heated look on your face meant.

The image you’d just witnessed, it was safe to say, was burning into your mind.

It was the knock on your front door which startled you out from your daydream about Bucky and the way he-

“Hey, two pep- Matthew.”

What should have been the pizza guy with your pizzas was your ex.

“What the fuck?”

“Please, please just hear me out,” he begged. “I am so sorry for what I did. I shouldn’t have slept with your best friend but I thought that was what I wanted. But-”

“Goodbye.”

“Wait! Please!”

His hand landed on the door. “Please. I-I thought that was what I wanted but these months apart have made me realise something.”

“Look, I don’t know how you found me but please leave.”

“I’m still in love with you, Y/n. I always was. And I’m ready for more, if that’s what you want.”

Down the hall, you heard your name being called. But Matthew didn’t.

“I should never have cheated on you, but I promise I never will again. It was good, right? You loved me? I loved you.”

“Please leave.”

“I will spend everyday making it up to you because I realised, I am worthy of you. Please, just give us a chance. I promise-”

In the space of about three seconds, you saw Matthew’s face change from begging to terrified and shocked at the same time before the door you were holding onto tightly opened wider from behind you.

Then you found yourself met with a freshly showered, completely naked save for the towel wrapped around his waist, Bucky. You felt the heat spread across your entire body as you tried your best to not make it obvious how you were trying to remember the moment for a lifetime.

The definition of his muscles, the way his arm flexed as it remained on his hip, the metal arm behind you, holding the door securely. The way the beads of water dripped down his neck and tracked down his body and into the top of the towel. The way his eyes burned with a kind of darkness you’d only ever seen in him when he was ready to attack, but somehow still remained soft when they fell on you.

“Holy-”

“What are you doing here?”

“I-I-I came to get Y/n back.”

“Oh, really?”

You felt yourself smile up at Bucky, for more than just the reason he was making your ex crap his pants.

“Y-Yes. I’m worthy of her.”

“You’re not worthy of shit.”

Matthew tried his best to ignore Bucky as he turned back to you. “Please. Y/n. I’m ready. Just come home with me.”

“I have a home. A new home. Very, very far away from you.”

“How did you even find this place?” Bucky asked.

Matthew had to look at him and eventually spat out that your ex-best friend had seen your car turn down the avenue a few weeks back when she was heading to work. So, he looked out for it and hoped for the best.

It was in a sudden motion Bucky’s right arm reached out and held Matthew up by the scruff of his collar. “You’re gonna forget you ever learned this address and leave Y/n alone. Do I have to repeat myself, or are we clear?”

A clearing cough came from somewhere behind Matthew.

The pizza guy.

“H-hi? S-Sorry about the wait. They’re working on the road at the top of the street so-so I-I had to double back.Two pepperoni?”

You nodded and the guy told you the price that had been exchanged over the phone.

“Thanks.”

“I hope you resolve…whatever this is. Bye.”

Hopping back on his pizza scooter, he headed towards his next address.

Matthew finally looked back at Bucky who’s stare hadn’t left him since he picked him up.

“I don’t like repeating myself, Matthew.”

“But she still loves me.”

“No, she doesn’t.”

That much had been made clear to Bucky over the last six months. He watched you put whatever anger and sadness you’d bottled up and put away into how you’d pulled out rotting beams and how you stabbed and yanked dead weeds from the ground with all your might.

He also saw it in your quiet moments after that. How you built yourself a home without any reminiscence of Matthew or your ex-best friend, how you found freedom and love in what was around you and how you let yourself date again. The dates didn’t last too long but they always ended mutually – not one sided.

“She does.”

You practically rolled your head with your eyes. “I really don’t.”

Bucky just smirked.

“B-but what about our life together?”

“The one you torched when you fucked my friend? Yeah,” you heard yourself laugh. “That will never exist.”

As you went to walk away, leaving Bucky to deal with Matthew, he called out.

“You can’t seriously be fucking him?”

Turning on your heel, you looked at both of them. Bucky seemingly didn’t react. Until a sliver of unrecognisable courage came pouring forward.

“And what if I am?”

Bucky reacted to that. Not that Matthew noticed.

“Not that it’s any business of yours,” you added.

“But-”

“Goodbye, Matthew.”

As you walked into the kitchen and laid out the pizzas, it was a few minutes before you heard a cry from Matthew, followed by a crash of plywood from the skip that was ready to be collected the next day.

Finally, the door closed and Bucky walked back into the kitchen, towel still around his waist.

Walking out from your laundry room, you took the last mental image of a practically naked Bucky, standing in your home, looking sun-kissed and all kinds of handsome.

“You left some clothes here the last time you stayed over.” Standing in front of him, you handed him his clothes.

“Thanks.”

Taking them from you, Bucky smirked as he caught your gaze scanning his entire body.

“How are you feeling?”

Your gaze flicked back to his, acting as if you hadn’t just been checking him out, but the heat on your face gave you away.

“Good.” You smiled. “Actually, really good. Kinda shocked me when it was him and not the pizza guy- thank you, by the way. For dealing with him. I’m sure there’s some speech I should give you about threats of violence but it was nice to see him scared after everything he did.”

“Clearly he didn’t get a new washing machine.” Bucky held up his hand, small flecks of glitter on the palm. You laughed.

“You can’t escape it.”

Bucky chuckled, too. “Guess you can’t.”

It was in the silence that followed, your hand holding onto his from when you moved it to see the glitter, that you saw that look in his eyes again. That something more look. He’d looked at you like that since the beginning.

For a while you thought that was just how he looked at people. But you saw the way he looked at Steve and Sam and Natasha and Wanda. You saw the way he looked at strangers on the street as they walked past him, you saw the way he looked at kids when they walked up to him and asked for his autograph, you saw the way he looked at reporters when they asked about the 40s or asked a question he didn’t like.

You saw the way he looked at everyone else.

And then there was the way he looked at you.

Something more.

You felt yourself step forward a little as he dropped his hand and held onto yours. It was a subtle difference. The way he looked at you, the way he held you, the way he spoke to you.

It was his turn to step closer.

Carefully placing his clothes down on the kitchen island beside you both, his other hand reached out for you, brushing the hair from your eyes.

And for a rare moment, you shocked him. Usually, he knew everything with you. It was rare you had to actually tell him something. He spent that long looking at you, it was almost as if his gaze could stare directly into your soul and know what you needed.

But this.

This he didn’t see coming.

No matter how long he’d hoped for it.

You kissed him.

And for a moment he was still, feeling your lips against his. Then it was like he was brought back to life. Feeling your hand in his, he squeezed your hand and you squeezed back. Finally, he kissed you back. His hands came to hold your face as he stepped into you, his kiss matching yours.

In a few turns, your back was against the counter of your kitchen island, your hands sending goosebumps throughout him as they trailed down his chest, sides and held him closer by his neck and back.

It wasn’t long before he lifted you onto the counter and your legs spread open for him to step closer. Slowly, the kisses peppered away until you were both left gasping for breath, feeling his forehead against yours.

“Shit.” Bucky eventually breathed, a small laugh escaping him. And you giggled, holding him closer.

“You better get dressed before you give my new neighbours an exclusive.”

Bucky looked behind him, realising you were both in a semi-clear view of the blind-less windows. They were getting delivered and installed on Monday. For now, you just had curtains and the panels on the windows.

Then he looked down. The towel was slowly coming loose from his hips. Then he swore for a different reason.

“You might have to give me a minute.”

It took you a second to realise what he was talking and blushing about. Then you tried to hide your laugh. “Either you put on some shorts or you give my neighbours an original welcome to the neighbourhood.”

Bucky gave you a look before looking around. Finally, grabbing his clothes, he surprised you with a quick kiss to your lips which made you smile and distracted you enough to let him go. Behind your kitchen island, he slipped on his shorts before removing the towel.

“Thought I might get a show.”

Bucky gave you another look. “I’d rather save that for when it’s just you and me, doll.”

You hummed, your arms coming back to his shoulders. “Fair enough.”

A shorter silence came over you both as Bucky looked at you again.

“What? What is it?”

You just kept looking.

“You’re looking at me like I’ve got two heads.”

“You always look at me like that.”

“Like you’ve got two heads?”

You shook your head. “No. Like I’m…something more. I’ve noticed it for a while but I don’t know…why do you look at me like that?”

Bucky just smiled, already knowing what you were talking about. “Because you are something more, doll. You’re more than something more to me.”

You searched his face for what felt like hours, trying to decipher his cryptic message until it finally clicked with you. His message hadn’t been cryptic at all. It had been staring at you, quite literally, for years.

Bucky watched as the expressions changed on your face; trying to find his meaning, wondering if you’d found the right one, convincing yourself it wasn’t possible, coming back to your original conclusion, accepting it though not fully, hoping it was true, not wanting to embarrass yourself if you were wrong, being certain you were right, and then not, until finally you’d found the courage to ask him if you were.

And he just smiled. Freely, and without hesitation, he answered.

“I’m in love with you, Y/n. That’s why you’re more than something more to me.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“You already had someone.” Bucky said, a little defeat in his voice.

“Had being the key word.”

He smiled and looked back at you. “I didn’t want to rush things. We…we both needed time.”

Unconsciously, your body moved closer to his touch as his hand traced down your arm before he held onto your hand. Fingers danced around each other before he finally pulled your hand close to his lips and kissed your knuckles, then your palm, and finally your inner wrist.

Finally, your head touched his. Eyes closed, breaths taking in and let out in sync.

“I am in love with you, Y/n. I have been for a long time and I don’t wanna rush this.”

You leaned up and looked at him. “Then we won’t. Like you said, we both needed time. And, Bucky?”

He looked at you, again.

“You’re more than something more to me, too.”

Then he smiled, that genuine if slightly sassy grin. “I know, doll.”

2K notes · View notes

darkbluekies · 28 days ago

Text

Broken restraints

Yandere!doctor oc x reader

Summary: you've finally had enough and decides to switch the roles on your doctor, to try to get where he has placed the poison that is destroying you

Warnings: drugging, reader is held captive and poisoned, basically a little manhandling of darling?, restraints, manipulation/kind of infantilization

Word count: 2k

Your heart is beating. This can backfire horrendously, but what other choice do you have?

“Can I have something to eat?” you ask as he places the two cups on the table.

“Are you hungry?” he wonders and gives you a worried look, always speaking to you in that soft, understanding tone. “Didn't you like the dinner?”

“I did, but I'm still hungry.”

“Okay, would you want a sandwich? Or a fruit?”

“Whatever, please.”

He nods. “Okay, I'll be back soon.”

You wait for the door to click shut before opening your hand where he's placed the sleeping pills. Your eyes turn to his coffee cup. This is such a bad idea.

You grab your own cup of chamomile tea and place the pill underneath, gently crushing it against the desk, grinding it into a fine powder. Your heart beats inside your chest. What if he comes back before you're done? If he forgot something? How do you explain this without telling the truth?

You pour the powder into his coffee, stirring slightly and feeling your heart sink to your stomach. Despite what he's doing to you, there has to be another way, right? But then again, if there was another way you wouldn't be doing this.

I'm sorry but what else do I do?

He returns with an apple.

“Here you go, little one”, he says. “Can't let you go to bed hungry. It's good that you're hungry. As long as you're not nauseous. Or cramping.”

From your poison, you mean?

You take a bite of the apple just for it to be believable. He takes a sip of his coffee. Your heart stops.

“How are you feeling?” he asks after he's swallowed. “How's your head?”

“Fine”, you reply shortly.

He reaches out, touching it as if you had a fever.

“That's good”, he says.

He drinks some more. You try to take another bite of the apple, but you're too worried about him feeling the taste, or the texture of the crushed pill.

“You look like you're going to throw up”, he says. “Are you sure you're fine?”

“I-I actually am a bit nauseous, when I think about it”, you half lie.

“See? I know when you're lying, you forget I read you like an open book. Drink some tea, it'll help.”

He pushes the cup closer to you. You sip carefully. The warming sensation only highlights the disgusting guilt.

He tucks you in, like he does everything night, and starts to move towards the door, but your hand grabs his white lab coat sleeve.

“Please don’t leave”, you whisper. “Not yet.”

He looks at you in a questioning manner. You've been so quiet ever since you got to know about the poisoned air purifier, not wanting him close. But he can't deny you. Never.

“Okay”, he says and sits down on his stool, rolling over to your bedside. “Just lay down. I'm not going anywhere.”

“Lay?” you ask quietly, patting the space on the bed beside you.

“Why?”

“Please.”

“You haven't wanted me near these last few weeks. You've been rather cross with me.”

“I'm scared. I'm desperate. Please.”

He reads you like an open book, he says, but you pray he feels sorry enough for you to ignore any warning signs. Dr Kry sighs, removes his lab coat, leaving him in his blue scrubs, and lays down on the side of the bed. His bare arm brushes yours. He's weirdly warm for someone so cold.

Carefully, he directs your head to lean on his shoulder without a word. You close your eyes and pretend to sleep, opening your eyes every now and then to see if he's asleep. He's bigger than you. Maybe the pill was too little for someone his size? Or maybe the caffeine in the coffee balanced it out?

“Doctor”, you whisper after a while. “Doctor Kry?”

He doesn't respond. You lift your head from his shoulder, leaning on your hand as you push yourself up on one arm. You realise that you've never seen him sleep. He looks content, peaceful almost.

It makes what you're about to do so much worse.

You glance at the leather straps that have left permanent marks on your wrists from his discipline. Carefully you scoot over and lean over him to grab his right wrist, fully ready for him to grab you at any second. But he doesn't. Slowly, you fasten it to the side of the bed with the buckle straps. And then the other. You get off the bed and back away, taking in the sight. It makes you nauseous.

You walk over to the cabinet by the corner and pull over his stool to get a better look at the purifier. One hand covers your mouth and nose as the other twists and turns the little box, looking for the poison. Nowhere. This close, it looks harmless.

You make your way down and over to his desk, looking through the drawers. There’s only papers. And documentation. You look throughout the room, but the poison is nowhere to be found. How can you ever get well if you don't even know what you've inhaled?

You have no choice but wait for Dr Kry to wake up. You sit down on his stool, waiting. It's tiresome, long, boring.

His eyes finally flutter open two hours later. You hold your breath. He blinks for a second, feeling something wrong. His hands tug at the restraints.

“Y/N.”

You've never heard his voice like that spoken your way, only those few unfortunate times he has shown that dark side of his. But then that voice was never used against you.

His chest rises and falls with heavy breaths.

“What have you done?” he asks. “Release me. Now.”

“Wait”, you say.

“Get me out, Y/N. I'm not joking.”

“You have to listen to me first.”

“How did you manage to do this? You—...I see. You did something with the sleeping pill. Your little joke is not funny. Release me now and I will forget about this.”

“No, you have to listen to me!”

“I have to listen to you? With these kinds of methods you have?”

“Doctor, please.”

He looks at you for a second before clenching his jaw, leaning back slightly. He doesn't say anything, doesn't accept it, but he doesn't reject it.

“Where's the poison?” you question.

“Poison?”

He looks straight at you, cold blue eyes sending ice throughout you. Anger is so unlike Dr Kry. Maybe this wasn't a good idea.

“Should have asked me when I was free, sweetheart”, he bites back. “I can't move. I can't show you.”

“You have a mouth. You can speak.”

“And you have one too, that's how humans work. One that works without having to tie me down.”

“You wouldn't have listened to me. And if you would have, you wouldn't have taken me seriously.”

“And you think this helps your cause? Because, to me, this looks like the doing of someone who's not well. Who can't be reasoned with. Who's too sick to take care of themselves, and that's why I have to.”

“I'm sick because of you! I want to know where the poison is.”

“Why? So you can go to the cops? I'm sorry, sweetheart but they won't be able to help you. That poison is of my own doing. There is no antidote on the market and if they want to figure out what I've put in it it'll take years to develop one … and who says they'll actually be able to? It's not unusual that new, untested substances make you worse. Face it, I'm the only one that can heal you.”

“You don't have an antidote.”

Kry scoffs. “Don't I? Do you think I'd be so stupid to develop a poison for my beloved, and not create an antidote in case something goes wrong?”

“Where is it?”

“Not in here … but I can show you.”

You hesitate. You're not sure if it's out of pure desperation, need to get out of the situation or the poison clogging your brain, but you move towards the bed. Unsure lying, as if you're waiting for a thought clear enough to stop you. Nothing comes.

You unbuckle one of his wrists. He immediately moves it in circles to massage it, grunting. As soon as you've loosened the other, he doesn't waste time. He flies up from the bed and in one motion, grabs hold of your jaw with his hand and forces you backwards. The grip isn't painful, but it's firm and unyielding. You've known that he's strong, but not like this.

You stumble backwards until your back finally hits the wall beside the bathroom door. He towers over you, looking down at you in a way he's never done before. It's anger … mixed with something.

He holds your jaw with one hand, thumb and index finger digging into your cheeks. He tilts it upwards, stretching your neck. You stare wide eyed, fear exploding in you like fireworks.

“What was that?” he hisses. “Do not ever do that again, do you hear me?”

“Let go!”

“Y/N, don't you realise what could have happened if you hadn't released me? You're not well, you need me, precisely because of these kinds of things. See what happens when you think for yourself with that clogged head of yours?”

You try to turn your head away but he doesn't let you. His grip is still not harsh, just firm.

“You're irrational, hysteric”, he hisses. “And you think I will release you? When you act like this? How will you survive? Antidote or not, you're a danger. Both to yourself and others, clearly.” He thinks for a moment. “That's it.”

Swiftly he lets go of your face, bends down and picks you up, hoisting you over his broad shoulder. You yelp, trying to steady yourself against his back.

“Since you can't be trusted, I have to use your own tricks against you”, he says, walking back to the bed.

He places you down on the mattress carefully, supporting both your head and waist before roughly taking one of your wrists and fastens it to the belt buckle. He tightens it enough for you to not wiggle, on both sides. You stare at them, trying to move. Dr Kry grabs your chin, making you look at him again.

“Are they too tight?” he asks firmly. “If you can't answer verbally, nod or shake your head.”

You nod quickly. He gives the restraints a quick look, trying to decide if they truly are. He then stands straight.

“You'll be fine.”

He turns back to his desk and pops out another sleeping pill and grabs your glass of water that stands on the nightstand. He holds your face, forcing your mouth open and placing the pill on your tongue. Before you can close it, the glass is tilted against your lips. Water floods your mouth. His hand holds your jaw throughout it, refusing rejection. When the glass is removed, he tilts your head upwards.

“Don't fight it. Swallow.”

With the angle he has your neck in, you have no choice but to swallow the sleeping pill. You cough.

“I despise having to use these kinds of methods against you”, he says dryly. “But if you refuse to listen to what’s best for you and behave, then I have to. I will put you back in your place, and that’s not to be mean. It’s to protect you.”

But then his eyes soften and his shoulders fall slightly. He sighs heavily, the anger running off of him.

“You should catch some sleep”, he says lowly. “You've been up later than usual. It's not good for your health.”

He tucks you in, jawstill clenched, but not angry. Not visibly. It's hard finding a comfortable position when your wrists are pinned.

“Y/N”, he says. “Don't do this again. Honestly. Don't.”

He gives off another sigh and leans down to kiss your forehead. You don't say anything.

“Sleep well”, he says.

He leaves the room, locking the door behind him. As soon as he's alone in the corridor, he leans against the wall, running a trembling hand over his face. This could easily have been avoided. He'll make sure it never happens again. If he has to feed you the medicine himself from now on, he will. Never again will he be put in that spot again.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere drabbles #yandere oc x you #yandere oc x reader #yandere oc #yandere doctor

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mononijikayu · 2 months ago

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thinking about volleyball player! sukuna getting upset because astrophysicist! reader doesn't wanna go with him in the shower after a long day of not seeing each other.

all volleyball player! sukuna wants is to hold your hand while he's cleaning his face for the night because he wants to feel you close after being touch starved.

because god forbid a loving devoted husband like him just wants to be with and feel his dear and beloved wife close to him after a long (heartbreaking) day of not being together. god forbid that this is his love language.

"are you actually mad at me?" sukuna pouts as he stands before you, still holding your hand. "do you actually not love me anymore?"

you sighed, looking at him. "my love, i did multiple labs today. i wanna be lazy right now."

"but i missed you." he whines to you, almost like a cat after not getting the belly rubs he wants. "come on, you can sit on the stool there while i look at you prettily at the mirror, still holding my hand."

"ryomen sukuna—"

"woah, just say you don't love me anymore at this point." he cuts you off, his face looking offended. "that's not my name. how dare you?"

"my love, really....." you sighed, rolling your eyes at his antics. you looked up and saw him glaring at you, like he was ready to cry. "its just the bathroom. you're just getting cleaned up."

"god forbid a man wants to multi–task." he huffs, shaking his head at you. his eyes looked like they were begging now. a sudden change from before. his hand squeezing your own. "come on, baby. just give in."

nearly a decade or so being together with such love with ryomen sukuna, you had always known that he was clingy but you never thought that he would be this clingy after getting married to you.

in some ways, marriage didn't really change your dynamics or your feelings for each other. that's just how it was when you've been so in love and continue to be in love after all this time.

but there was something about getting married that made the intensity of his desire to hold you, to touch you even more overwhelming. his life is incomplete when he's not feeling the warmth that completes the cold sweat that comes after he sits down and leaves the court for the day.

his body demands the warmth of you to complete him when the passion of the court cools down. because at the end of the day, he will walk out of that court. he will always go and in and out of it.

but you were the only one he could never leave. you were the only one that he will never resign himself away from. you were that only exception. because you bring him to life in ways not even the thunderous intensity of that ball hitting his palm ever would.

your warmth was more than anything that could ever be in this world. and he knows it. you knew it. so, yes, you could feel annoyed at the thought of him sulking and groaning and crying and moping with neediness for you and everything about you.

but it instantly goes away. because you love this man. and he loves you. that will never go away. annoyance is temporary but wanting to love him with everything despite it all is forever.

you looked at him for one more moment, seeing the tears threaten to fall down his eyes as though he was a little child about to have a crash out over not getting his favorite lollipop. you shake your head and started smiling and then laughing.

"alright, alright. just tonight, my love. after that, we'll go to bed."

you saw the threat of tears immediately disappear as he grins widely, almost as if his melt down had never happened. almost instantly, your husband became a golden retriever who has finally gotten a treat to enjoy.

he all but embraces you with everything in him, with you being nearly falling over as you get consumed by the warmth of his much bigger built. impressively, your hands are still locked in with his.

"my love—i'm about to fall!"

he laughs. "baby, you'll never fall. not when im here to catch you!"

and you like to think that's the case. he's never let you fall anywhere. he's never let you suffer or feel like he never cares for you or loves you. instead, he keeps you high above with him in the joyous clouds, enjoying the bountiful of the love he pours everything into.

when you both go to the bathroom, he's doing his facial with his free hand while his other one still remained wrapped against your own. you continued to listen to him talk about his day with enthusiasm, his bright scarlet eyes never leaving your own, which was full of love for him.

"did you know they're finally allowing me to have my uniform and shoes engrave the 'my love' on it?"

you blinked. "you requested it? and they approved it?"

"i mean, i've asked about it the moment i signed for them babe! been wanting to keep you with me at court if i can't wear my ring." he says, beaming at you. "but since im renegotiating my contract with the tokyo great bears and with the national team, it was the demand i asked for in my contract and they said yes!"

you could feel your entire chest feel warm and your entire body turn red as the blood in pumped high with pressure, feeling overwhelmed by the love your husband has for you. you use your free hand to hide your face in your palm, out of sheer flustered feeling taking over you.

how did you ever luck out in love in a world that has such a bleak look? how could one have such a big heart to love? how could you not love him and only him? how could every bit of everything that is negative just burst out in positives when he loves you like this?

"baby, why are you lowering your head like that—"

"ah, you're so...." you groaned at him, before looking up, still red. "you're so!...."

he turns around, moved closer to you and pressed a warm kiss on your lips. you were stunned as the smell of his vanilla creme echoes into your nose. you turn redder than before.

"love you too, baby." he whispered to you, his eyes blossoming in heartfuls.

how can he always just defeat you with his love?

".....hurry up, i'm getting sleepy."

"hey, don't sleep before i can!"

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sugarverse · 7 months ago

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Hiii! I was wondering if I could request either long or short fic about Tenya Iida. Likes it can be set in a modern setting where's he's a senior college student who's majoring in business and he has to take one more class to get his degree. It just so happened that the class is in the art building, and it is figure drawing (aka nude drawing) . Since he's just now hearing of the extra class he has to take, he's suddenly shocked when the model is an old friend of his from back home, whom he had a childhood crush on. Not only does his feelings for her come back, but he also has to have 1 on 1 section with the model for educational purposes. I kinda want it to be smut and fluff or however you see it fit. Anyway, I hope it's enough+

hi babe! omg I love this idea I kinda went a lil crazy and made it way too long. I hope u enjoy :)!!

𝘿𝙧𝙖𝙬𝙣 𝙏𝙤𝙜𝙚𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧

word count: 3.5k

mentions of: This is really just the fluff portion of it, kinda suggestive bc he pops a boner and leads to sex in part two. I think I’m going to make a third part simply so the two of you can go on a genuine date andsotheresmoreiidaxblackreaderouthere.

a/n: hells yeah that’s enough, hopefully I did what ya asked and so sorry I went overboard I have serious problems. here’s the smut part bc a 6.7k fic is doing too damn much but i can’t stfu my fault gang

moodboard here!

Tenya Iida.

4th year, Senior in college majoring in International Business and minoring in Spanish at Angelwood College of Arts and Sciences.

The visual arts building had only been a few minutes away from the business side of campus, which he gladly enjoyed the walk. This spring all he needed to finish was two gen ed classes, the rest revolved around his major and minor. His counselor helped set up his ‘missing’ classes before winter break considering he had to fly back to Japan to see his family for the holidays. He was ecstatic to learn all he needed was an art class with lab and a communications class.

When he asked what the class entailed, all he was met with was “beginner artists learning anatomy.” It didn’t sound difficult, just draw what you see. It would be nice to try something new anyway. He was not much of an artist but like all things Tenya does, he planned to give this class his all. The first week had been pretty easy, learning how to draw what you see with the use of models, shapes, and lines. Nothing too hard to follow. He would practice drawing his friends on the sketchpad he bought specifically for the class as a form of studying in the free time he had.

He neverminded it for the most part, excelling his knowledge in different countries in his free time to get better at his major. Sure they could teach you the technical way to do things, but in the end, everyone is still human. It would be inconsiderate to do business with a country and know little to nothing about their culture! It took almost two weeks for him to finally be able to even start the art project anyway.

As time went on and the January snow grew less and less, it was time to start their first real project of the semester. One on One figure drawing. The class needed to fill out a form explaining their free hours due to the limited art space and everyone's different schedules. Tenya happily filled it out when it was posted, continuing to work on class work from the library so that the lecture room could also be used for said project.

Their professor had explained that in-person class would remain on Mondays and Thursdays. It just worked out better for the models and students to have so much space.

He made the small walk over to the arts building for his last class of the day, a small shine in his glasses as he entered the white light of the room. The walls were anything but bare, artwork and unfinished projects sat in every corner of the room. Paint racks, canvases big and small, even stacks of unused clay. There was a stool sitting on a small platform in the middle of the room, assuming where the model will sit.

He stood next to the stool for a moment, looking up at the grey February sky through the skylight. The natural lighting was great, almost like a spotlight. He adjusted the lights in the room a moment, dimming them slightly so the white light hadn’t been so harsh on his eyes. He headed over to a more organized table, setting out the art supplies how he liked. He knew he was early, but he wanted to make a good first impression. What’s better than being on time?

He pulled out his laptop, checking that the few assignments for today were done and submitted. A small frown tugged at his lips as he realized he hadn’t finished something completely, typing in the last few answers. He always double checked, technology was reliable.. When it wanted to be. He couldn’t hear the shuffle of slippers against the floor over his typing and frankly, loud thinking.

He could see someone walk past in a teal robe representing the university's colors. Glancing up from the computer to give the model a proper hello, Tenya opens his mouth to speak but pauses.

“Y/n?” He asked, almost in a whisper in case he was wrong. A small look of confusion caused him to tilt his head to the side slightly. He hadn’t been able to see you for awhile with such busy schedules, but he knew your silhouette by heart.

You turn at the sound of your name, mid sliding off the slippers and fumbling with the gold silk of the belt. “Tenya?” You smile, asking as you turn to slide your shoes back on and quickly shuffle your way over to him. He felt his face burn red, frozen in place for a moment with his jaw slack. He stood as if needing to detach from the seat, smiling at your happy demeanor and your quickness to wrap your arms around him.

“It is you! I know those shoulders from anywhere!” You beamed, feeling his hovering hands slowly place themselves on your back to return the hug. He was very hesitant, simply because you were only in a robe. You pull away, hands resting on your hips and giving him a big smile. “Now what are you doin’ taking a figure drawing class, Mister businessman?”

He let out a sheepish chuckle, “I needed an art credit, W-What are u doing here?” He never had any classes with you at Angelwood, A few honors classes and gym in highschool but other than that, nada. Throughout the course of growing up, your interests drove you to different classes.

However, classes don't matter when your families are as close as yours and the Iida family. Shared Holidays, playdates, game nights.. It wasn’t like you were some stranger. You both always made time to hang out a few times during the year to catch up without the family just to give a real check on each other. It was his favorite, almost like a mini holiday to talk to you.

He loved spending time with you. You were smart, articulated and incredibly creative. You never took slack from anyone.. Even in middle school he can remember you being the one to stand up and say something when things weren’t right. You were headstrong and determined in anything that you did.. Art majors always get a lot of grief but you never let that deter you. And that was admirable in itself! ..And he had always thought you were so pretty.

He felt like a kid again, heart feeling as if it’d beat out of his chest at the mere sight of you. It had been around Halloween the last time he saw you, and here it was. Almost Valentine's day.. Still as pretty and bright as he remembered. Your next hangout wasn't for another month or so, so it was nice to see you sooner than that.

“I'm your model, silly!” You head over to the stool, continuing to speak. “The art department asked if I’d help in modeling and I said yes! People were too scared to sign up for the most part. I’m surprised this is the class you picked. Did you want to learn how to draw people?” You slide your slippers off once more, untying the cute bow on your hip that held your robe shut.

Suddenly the room was very hot and he couldn't breathe. Now his heart really WAS beating out of his chest. He quickly did a 180, shielding his eyes and removing his glasses for extra measure. “WHY– do yoU have.. nothing on underrrrneath?” He croaked, voice cracking as his tone raised slightly.

You tilt your head at such a question, the gears clicking a little later than they should have. “Figure drawing is um.. Nude drawing, Tenya. You didn't know that?” You slide the robe back on, giggling at the flustered man across from you. You could see his shoulders tense, shaking his head slowly.

Now how the fuck could he have missed that.

“I um.. No, I didn't. I thought that it was.. I don't know what I thought. My counselor picked it for me and I.. Most models we've used so far have.. had skin colored undergarments… On.” He let out a nervous laugh, keeping his glasses off. He turns around, cleaning them with the end of his shirt but refusing to look up at you. He needed to mentally prepare his brain to be professional in a situation like this. Not that he minded the glance, he just never thought this would be how..

You prop your feet onto the edge of the stool, interrupting his thought. You held your knees up to your chest so he couldn’t see anything but your bare legs. “Oh Ten, I’m sorry! I can ask someone else to-”

“No! I am perfectly.. capable. It's professional and I can be.. professional..” He put his glasses back on, hand refusing to be steady as he did so. He let out a shaky sigh, smiling at you and finally looking at you once more.

You let out a small laugh at the blush on his cheeks. He was so handsome, but to see him so flustered over little ol’ you? It made your week. “We can start slow, that might help.” you slide the robe down your shoulders, slowly putting your legs back down so he could see your robed torso once more. You stopped at the top of your breasts, letting your collarbone show. “Do you have any specific poses..?” You ask quietly, trying to hold back your amusement.

He sits down, red faced and completely flushed. A nude model.. jeez. From sleepovers to recess, studying together to graduating, and now almost graduating for the final time together. That's something you don’t get to have in every lifetime. But why do these thoughts keep coming back to him now?

There was no way he could still have romantic feelings for you. He’d never put your friendship at risk like that!

..right?

“I um.. yeah, small.” He cleared his throat, “Could you um.. Could you stand slightly off of the um.. Almost like getting up?” He fumbled over his words, staring at the empty paper as if he could burn the quick image in his brain onto the page to get the embarrassment over with. He sighed once more, trying to focus as he began sketching circles and lines as a starter sketch of the pose he wanted.

“When you need to draw a certain part I'll move it, Sound fair?” You ask, resting one foot onto the stool and one onto the ground. Your hand gripped the seat as your butt sat on the edge, similar to when people do that supposedly hot thing where they throw their head back and pull some weird rope to have water get poured on them.

It was second nature at this point for people to see you. Of course some of them were flustered and it was pretty awkward at first, but normally not to the point of stuttering and stammering. It wasn’t often that you saw Tenya fall apart, but this was way different. Especially considering you flashed him without warning. He was one of the most endearing people you had ever met, there was no way you would have done that without proper context.

He could only nod in response, not wanting to further make a fool of himself. Lightly tapping the pencil against the table, He looks up at you. “You can um.. re.. remove the top part, y/n..” It was hard to simply draw your arms and collarbone without including the robe, so you might as well rip the band-aid off and start with the top.

You nod, dropping it happily and letting the robe pull around your hips and between your legs. You close your eyes, facing up toward the skylight in an attempt to make him less nervous. “Sorry for flashing you at first, I would have explained but I assumed you had already known..?” You laugh quietly to yourself at your own mistake. Why would someone like him even take this class if he knew what it actually entailed?

And God, did he feel like a pervert staring at your chest like this. The boner poking his thigh almost immediately didn't help, making it even harder to concentrate. Way to keep composure. He pressed his lips together for a moment before speaking. “I had no idea, I’m sorry for my r..reaction.” He answered, stopping the pencil tapping to actually begin sketching more than just circles and lines. He hadn’t meant to yell, but he felt like he was close to passing out.

“I think it was a pretty valid one.” You send a reassuring smile his way, seeing him send you one right back. Trying to ease the mood, you look back up at the ceiling and close your eyes to avoid staring at the ugly overcast sky above you. “How was winter break? You get to go home and see your family? How are they?”

His smile grew wider at your question, scooting under the desk a bit more so that you hopefully wouldn’t notice his body reacting. “They’re great, Tensei is getting married soon,” He sounded excited at the thought alone, incredibly proud of his brother.

“And my mother has started a hobby making soap, if you can believe it. She sent me some to bring back one that smells like lavender and another that smells like oranges mixed with I believe she said papaya.? She made a coconut smelling one for you– I was going to give it to you the next time we saw each other,”

The sound of his sketching stopped and started as he spoke, giving your body small glances as he tried to study each part of your upper torso. The way your stomach creased, The way your shoulder was slightly lifted causing your collarbone to be more prominent, the curve of your breasts.. “How was your Holiday, y/n?”

“No way, Tensei is getting married?!” You accidentally stop posing, fully facing him in genuine shock. The robe was still covering your lower half, you had tied the belt to avoid accidentally flashing him again but here we are. You watch his face become even more red, eyes very obviously not meeting yours but still like a deer in headlights.

You quickly get back to posing how you were, “Sorry Ten, That's amazing!! I hope everything goes smoothly for him and his soon to be wife.. And tell your mommy I said thank you for thinking of me. I can't wait to try it!”

A smile stayed on your lips as you thought about the times you’ve spent in the Iida household. His mother always had the best candles and incense burning, you were positive the soap would be the same. “My family is up to the same old shit, you know them..” You let out a small groan, the holidays weren’t an absolute disaster, but after not being home so long makes you remember why you aren’t going to school anywhere near home.

“I did get some cool stuff for Christmas though! I got some new clothes and they got me a few art kits. You know, where it teaches you how to crochet? I also have a new diamond painting kit, I haven't opened either yet because it's just been so busy.” You replied, tapping your fingers on the side of the stool where your hand sat.

You look up once more, this time because the skylight was beginning to be covered in snow. You watched as it fell, thinking back to old times when you and Tenya would spend the last three major holidays with each other. You’d always make sure to trick or treat together, your families have been sharing Thanksgiving for as long as you can remember, and spending the night in your basement on Christmas eve to wait for Santa until you were both too old. Then instead of waiting for Santa, you’d all eat at least one meal together on Christmas day. Sometimes homemade breakfast, other times a small trip to IHOP or Waffle House.

“God damn it.. It’s snowing again..” You let out a small laugh, looking over at him over your shoulder, fingers still tapping away at the base of the stool. “Hey Ten, Do you remember when we used to have those big snowball fights? The one near Red Fern?”

“Of course I do! You refused to wear any kind of gloves and my mother would make you at least put socks on your hands so you didn’t get frostbite!” The two of you shared a small laugh at the memories of being young and dumb.

“Gloves always made my hands too itchy! They still do– But I kicked your ass in snowball fights with gloves or not.” You retort, a smirk appearing on your face. “Ice queen y/n of everything.” You could remember the insane snowball fights the neighborhood kids would have every. time. It snowed. If there was enough to make a few snowballs, there was enough to start a war. Tenya was always on your team, but it never stopped you from throwing a few his way. The ‘winner’ was King or Queen of the hill and first to sled down, which often enough was you.

“Remember when you almost broke my glasses throwing one right at my face?” He snickered, watching your smirk turn into a small pouty frown. He knew you didn’t mean to, that same day you helped your mom make cookies for him and his family as an apology, even though he wasn’t upset to begin with. But you knew it could have broken his glasses and you would be devastated if you were the reason for it. You were a real sweetheart, even if you had a weird way of showing sometimes.

“Hey! You know that wasn’t on purpose, I felt really bad after! I even let you get me back!” Which was true, but he never aimed for your face. Always a spot on your fluffy coat, never your legs because you hated your pants being wet… and a face shot just felt wrong to him.

“Yeah, Yeah. I remember that part too,” He smiled to himself. “Those were really good times.. I remember Tensei always bringing us hot chocolate and we’d sit on your porch and draw things in the snow..”

“Oh! And when we’d come back all wet and mom already had spare clothes in her hands because she didn’t want it on the carpet. We’d put on too big clothes just to sit and watch Christmas movies..” You missed those times. But they never really had to stop, you two could have a huge snowball fight after this if you wanted to and the snow stuck. Was he too grown for that? Would it even sound fun to him?

“Do you still watch A Year Without Santa Clause every year?” He asks, breaking your train of thought. You nodded quickly at his question, grinning like a maniac. “Of course I do! And I watch Charlie Brown’s Christmas, Rudolph The Rednosed Reindeer.. And sometimes Spongebob's Christmas Special. Do you still watch old Christmas cartoons?”

“Why wouldn’t I? Don’t wanna ruin tradition.” He answered, pressing his lips together slightly as he stared down at the paper. You can tell he freezes a bit, the sound of his scribbling coming to a stop. He set the pencil down, rubbing the sweat of his hands onto his thighs.

“You can um.. remOove-..” He quickly cleared his throat, “The rest.” He let out a disappointed sigh at his inability to keep composure. This wouldn't be half the problem it was if it was someone else modeling. But this is you we're talking about.

“You sure? If you need a minute we can take a break, honey.” You gave him a sympathetic look, still smiling but this time more.. warm. The kind of smile someone gives to another when they genuinely care for them. Or love them for that matter. He adored it, it was the same smile you'd give him when saying he needs to take a break, the same smile you give him when the two of you out to get coffee and catch up. The same smile he's fallen for many, many times.

But to tell you the truth? It’s driving him crazy. All of this. Was driving him crazy. No matter how hard he tried to be professional, he could stop his wandering mind. You were a goddess. What else was there to do besides take a break and hopefully release some steam in the bathroom or something. Completely inappropriate, but the pain from being hard for so long was starting to cloud the best judgment.

He looks down at the sketch so far, then back to you as he rubbed his hand upward against his face. It pushed his glasses up, causing them to be crooked when going back down. “I um.. I think I do.. need a minute.” His voice died out as he watched you slide the robe back on, words failing him because couldn’t think completely straight.

© if you like what you see please reblog! It means a lot and helps me out. Want more? Heres my m.list! I write for x black reader so throw me some requests :P my other account are icons and x black reader moodboards if you’re interested!

thank you @thecutestgrotto for the banners and thank you @fizzintine for coloring the top pic!

have a good day/night/whatever!

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