#why would you need to warn or get permission from a toy?

[feral-and-or-horny]

Thinking about breaking in your new personal room which you're so excited about, by cornering you and fucking you 💖❤ Stripping you naked and enjoying the feel of thrusting deep between your legs as you get shocked and overwhelmed. Then I push you back onto your bed, hard, tell you quietly "get up before I get back and you'll fucking regret it," and I leave the room. From where you're lying you can just hear me say hi to your roommate in passing, exchange a few words that sound happy and innocent. And soon after I walk back into your room, holding a tray of ice cubes. Telling you "keep laying there beautiful. You're going to have some fun for me to watch."

I can't decide what I like more, the idea of you watching me tease and fill myself with the ice, or you doing it yourself.

On the one hand, it would be deliciously humiliating to take the ice cubes one at a time, shaking as you casually push my legs apart, and begin tracing them around my clit before pushing them inside, all while you watch hungrily, paying no mind to me as a person, just a pretty little cunt to tease and play with.

But on the other hand, I love the idea of you taking all that control from me, just sitting between my legs as you torturously play with and tease me, tracing the ice down from my lips, over my nipples, and lower still until you hold it against my clit, ordering me to hold still when I start to squirm, watching it melt and admiring how my legs tremble. And of course you get to have all the fun of pushing them into my pussy, forcing them deep inside and making sure I feel your fingers flexing inside me.

[lurochar]

The Domino Effect (Pt. 1)

Alastor's shadow has been banned from seeing you for a week. The fallout thus begins.

This was getting long, so it's going to be split into 2 parts. I'm not sure when the second part will be posted, hopefully next week.

Warnings: Alastor's shadow is a massive simp for Reader. There are a few cringey deer puns to get through

18+ MDNI

The Shadow will Play and The Buck Stops Here

^^

Please read those two first

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

One week.

An entire week – 7 whole days (his Master was so, so cruel), 168 hours (time wasn’t the same for a being like him), 10, 080 minutes (so why was it taking so long to pass?), 604, 800 seconds (would have to go by before he could smell, touch, taste you again).

He was getting restless, antsy in the meantime.

His Master was allowing him to roam around freely if he didn’t need him for anything, so perhaps his Master did understand that being separated from you was one of the worst things he (they) could endure.

Not that Alastor would ever admit that out loud of course.

But misbehaviour was misbevaviour – Alastor couldn’t let his own shadow think it could do whatever it wanted without his explicit permission, especially when it concerned you.

Everything about you belonged to him. Your pleasure was his, your pretty sounds were his. All of your blood, sweat, and tears were his. 

His shadow may be a literal part of him, but he was a selfish, selfish man. Wasn’t he already being kind enough to allow his shadow to watch and observe? 

Yes, you were his in every way but one – your soul. 

It was an utterly frustrating aspect about you and Alastor wasn’t completely sure why you would not give your soul to him. Surely by now you know he would do everything in his power to protect it, treasure it, and he would never dream of mistreating you in any way.

You saw how he treated other souls under his thumb, how he treated Husker and Niffty. He was most certainly charitable to them, wasn’t he? Sure, he may be a little rougher on Husk, but it wasn’t his fault the former Overlord didn’t seem to know his place at times and he couldn’t have the souls he owned out of line and misbehaving, could he?

You, of course, were different from them, they were toys, his pawns. You were his lover, his mate. 

He was selfish, but he was also patient. He could wait, he would wait until he could find a loophole and break out of his own contract – you didn’t find out about that, did you? It’s not as if he told you about it. He wasn’t even sure how Husk found out about it, it wasn’t something he spoke about to anyone.

(Was that why you refused to give him your soul?)

It must be difficult, he was sure, so he gave his shadow a little bit more leeway than usual and it certainly was using it.

His shadow was clearly irritated, engaging in activities that it was familiar with, but ramped up in intensity.

Pranks against the hotel’s residents were now borderline assaults and Alastor simply allowed it to happen, despite the annoyed complaints he was receiving and concerned looks he was getting from you.

He didn’t answer when you asked about ‘Shadowy’.

“Fuck you.” Husk grumbled, not bothering to get up from his slumped position at the bar as the damn shadow just seemed to pop up from nowhere. He was already starting to deal with the shakes, suffering from the backlash of not having any alcohol when the shadow switched out all of his alcohol with other liquids during the night.

You had kindly volunteered to go and fetch him some booze, but Alastor had simply sneered at him and reminded you that you two had a lunch date with Rosie and thus, wouldn’t be back at the hotel until quite late. 

You had thrown him an apologetic look and Husk just shook his head, not wanting to piss Alastor off. At least you tried, the only one who bothered to do so other than Charlie, who quickly ran off to town as soon as she saw his condition to buy him a six-pack to get him through the night. He could order more once the withdrawals wore off.

That fucking shadow popped up just as he finished his first bottle.

Other than cursing at it, Husk didn’t have the energy to do much else other than growl at it. It just snickered at him and before Husk could even react, its arm swiped across the counter and knocked the five remaining bottles off the bar and watched with a menacing glee as they shattered across the floor.

Husk stared in disbelief as his remaining booze leaked on the ground and the shadow cooed at him in an extremely condescending manner, stroking the back of its hand with its tongue and giving him a look with its hollow eyes as if to say, ‘lick it up.’ 

The shadow vanished as swiftly as it came.

That one bottle wasn’t enough and Husk vaguely wondered if he had done anything to anger Alastor recently and if Charlie was willing to go back into town again to pick him up any more booze.

Hell, he’d even ask Niffty at this point. He didn’t care who got him what he needed, as long as he got it in the end. 

He almost felt desperate enough to lick it right off the floor.

That damn shadow was probably watching him and waiting for him to do it.

Fuck him.

~00~

The shadow dealt with his frustrations the next day by leaving the hotel and slaughtering a few Sinners, specifically targeting ones that had any VoxTek on their person. 

He licked the blood off his claws, but grimaced at the flavour. Nothing had an appeal for him since he had a taste of you, but then had immediately been deprived right after. 

Why was his Master so harsh?

Why couldn’t he touch you too?

But orders were orders and he had no choice but to listen. He just didn’t understand, you had thought the bleats were cute and he knew you would not go around telling everyone that his Master bleated during sex, so why was his Master annoyed with him?

Would his Master react in the same way if he told you about their tail? Well, it was more specifically his Master’s secret than his own since pulling his own tail just wouldn’t have the same effect.

He may be punished again, but he also felt the contentment from his Master, especially that night where he felt the tinges of euphoria and a ghost-like touch upon his ears. He hadn’t been completely connected to his Master that night, so he only felt the barest of touches, but he knew you must have gotten Alastor to bleat.

What was one more thing?

Another punishment would be unpleasant, but ultimately if his Master (and him too) got the utmost pleasure out of revealing ‘humiliating’ secrets to their lover, who would never laugh at them no matter what, another punishment would be worth it.

Besides, if these thoughts were running in the front of his mind, then they must be running in the back of his Master’s – probably pushed down and away because his Master thought they were weaknesses.

His Master had even once thought that about you in the very beginning, as ridiculous as it seemed now, considering his Master (and him) would rip Hell apart and make it rain with guts and gore should anything happen to you.

His Master was just bad at feelings, that's all.

~00~

The shadow was back at the hotel.

His ears twitched as he sat on the top of the stairs. He caught the sound of Charlie’s voice somewhere nearby. Ah, she was a lucky one, his Master had told him to leave Charlie out of any pranks as he needed to stay on her good side. 

Everyone else was free game.

He had gotten Husk.

Charlie was a no-go.

Angel Dust was… honestly, he wanted to avoid being near him. The constant sex jokes made even his Master uncomfortable and irked. He only understood what his Master understood and before you, Alastor had almost zero interest in sex. Most of the time, his Master (and thus, him) had no idea what Angel Dust was even talking about and did not want to know.

So, Angel Dust only if he were desperately frustrated to the point of breaking his punishment.

Vaggie, how could he get her? Hide that precious spear of hers in a place she could never reach, stash it away in the shadows? Maybe shear off a good chunk of that long hair of hers with his claws?

Hmm, decisions, decisions…

His ears twitched again and the shadow glanced down, eyes glowing brighter when he noticed the little creatures cheerfully moving past him and towards the first stair.

Right, these are the pets(?) of the second resident of the hotel – the snake man, the shadow did not know his name because it seemed his Master did not bother to remember it, even after the snake managed to rip a piece of his Master’s coat off.

Well, they were the pets of that snake.

The shadow nonchalantly kicked the first Egg Boi, watching with sadistic pleasure as its fellow Egg Boiz panicked when their companion cracked wide open in the middle of the staircase. 

“Where have you gone off to, my little sssssweetssss?” 

The shadow stood, grinning at the scene before disappearing into the darkness just as Sir Pentious slithered towards the staircase. 

He heard the snake screech in horror before vanishing completely.

~00~

“In and out.”

His shadow whined, using all its willpower to not look in the direction of the bed where it knows you are sleeping. This is the closest it has been to you in a few days and it took almost everything out of it to not just jump into that bed and cuddle up into your side and curl around you.

“I’ve been getting complaints about you.” Alastor eyed his shadow before turning his attention to the pile of corpses gathered at his door. “Husk told me you sabotaged all of his alcohol and that snake fellow said you killed one of those egg creatures.”

The shadow chittered.

“Oh, don’t get me wrong. I don’t care. As long as you avoid Charlie, do as you please. If you do target Vaggie at some point, do go a bit lighter on her. Charlie may get angry at me on Vaggie’s behalf and I can’t have that.” He paused for a moment to listen to his shadow chirp and titter. “I don’t know, this is your project.” Alastor shrugged, ignoring the glare his shadow was giving him. “Steal her hair ribbon or such.”

His shadow’s chitters stopped and Alastor assumed that was exactly what it was going to do the next day.

“You have been quite active today, I see.” Alastor turned back to the corpses. “Much more than we need, but I suppose it's fine. Rosie is always in need of more meat.” His smile darkened and he turned to your sleeping form in the bed, casting a spell to make sure you stay asleep. He didn't want you waking up to the unpleasant sight of mangled corpses. “It's a good way to let off steam.”

His shadow let out a noise of agreement.

“Now then, let's get this meat into the bayou dimension. Hmm, it seems you even snagged a worker of that insufferable Vox. I do wonder how they will taste?”

You stayed sound asleep.

~00~

“Have you seen it?”

You feel Vaggie's grip around your arms tighten and you sigh. “No, I'm sorry, I haven't.” You answer. “But I can help you look.” You offer.

“Are you sure?” Vaggie's expression is a mixture of panic, suspicion, and anger. “I know Alastor has been playing his weird sadistic little games with us lately and I really don't think you're doing anything yourself, but I know you would choose him in a heartbeat over us.”

“I…” You are taken back by the amount of vitriol in Vaggie's voice. “I really had nothing to do with this.” You said firmly, causing Vaggie to rub at her hair in exasperation – something she's clearly been doing all day judging by how unruly it is.

“Are you two fighting?” Vaggie asked after clearing her throat and the panic disappeared from her face and voice. 

That ribbon must be very important to her if she's acting like this.

“No.” You murmured, having a feeling of where Vaggie’s ribbon might have vanished to. “But I think I am a part of the problem here.” Your proceeding smile is shaky. “I'll help you find your ribbon.”

“I-it was Charlie's first gift to me.” Vaggie looked forlorn for a second. “I know it sounds stupid to be attached to something that can be so easily replaced, but–”

“It's not stupid.” You cut Vaggie off. “It's not stupid at all. You love Charlie, you love every and any little thing she does for you, gets for you. I understand that.”

Vaggie smiled softly, nodding before her eye widened and she looked at you closely. “Y/N, Alastor, he… he isn't like Charlie–”

“Love is irrational sometimes.” You've heard this speech enough times already. “I know what Alastor is, what he's done. But he's never done anything to hurt me and he protected me even before our relationship began, all without asking for a single thing in return. I give what I can willingly and happily.”

Yeah, Alastor may have asked for your soul a few times, but he never seemed angered or upset that you turned him down nor did he incessantly pester you about it.

It's just how Overlords worked, you figured.

Vaggie stared in disbelief, not sure if you were even speaking about the Radio Demon anymore.

“Let's split up to look for your ribbon.” If your guess was right, you really did not want Vaggie there to see. “Is that okay?”

“Oh, yeah, that's fine.” Vaggie snapped out of her stupor. “I've already searched my and Charlie's room. And Charlie is looking in the main room. Maybe I left it in with my dirty clothes?” Vaggie muttered to herself. “I think I'll go check the laundry room. You can look anywhere you like.” She began towards the laundry room, but stopped a moment later. “Hey, Y/N. Thanks.” 

You watched as Vaggie practically sprinted off in her chosen direction and smiled. “Of course.”

You had a buck and his shadow to find.

~00~

“Quite the accusation, Darling.”

Your fingers scratched your cheek and you looked away. “I know you didn't steal Vaggie's ribbon.” You said. “But I know Shadowy has been causing problems for the past couple of days. Shadowy has Vaggie's ribbon, right?” It takes only one look at Alastor's tight grin to know you are correct. “Just let me see Shadowy if he's causing all these problems!”

“I will not tolerate disobedience.” Alastor retorted. “My shadow had one simple order and it did not follow it. There are consequences for that. And it seems there are side effects to the consequence I have put in place. It may not be ‘fun’ for the others to deal with, but they are harmless in the long run.”

“Husk was going through withdrawals.” You frown. “And one of Sir Pentious’ Egg Boiz, you know, cracked open, so I assume that must mean it's dead.”

“We are in Hell, my dearest Doe. While I'm sure withdrawals are quite unpleasant to experience, Husk won't die from them.” Alastor moved closer to you. “As for the egg creature, many have already ‘died’ in my previous… ‘engagements’ with that snake fellow, yet he is never without them. I'm sure he has a source of some sort for those egg creatures.”

“Okay, I get that Shadowy is frustrated? Angry? But why are you letting him do it all here?” You ask with a sigh.

“Of course I allow my shadow to go out and about, but I still do need it close by, so it may only go into the city for a few hours at a time in a limited range. If I need to, I can call it back quickly should something unlikely occur, such as the hotel coming under attack.”

Sometimes, Alastor’s thoughts were beyond you and this punishment for his own shadow seemed a bit excessive.

“Just… just tell Shadowy to give Vaggie back her ribbon in the same shape it was in. It's very important to her, all right? Please, please don't let him rip it!” You plead.

Alastor's ears twitch at your tone and his tense smile turns into something wicked. “And what would you do to ensure that would happen, dearest?”

You blink and then gape at him for a second. “I–” This situation was odd, but ultimately, you are at the centre of it and if all you needed to do was have sex with your lover to get Vaggie's ribbon back, then of course you would do it.

(Maybe you could squeeze out a few bleats too~)

~00~

He stared at the mirror, tying the ribbon on various parts of his body, wondering if you would like it.

First, around his neck. His Master wore something like this everyday, so he was sure you would like this too.

Second, around his ear. It was cute, right? You liked cute things. You had called him ‘cute’ many times before. 

‘Do not damage that ribbon in any way. If you do, I will extend your punishment. Bring that ribbon back to me.’

His Master's voice sounded in his head and the shadow whined at the thought of not seeing you beyond the allotted time.

He carefully untied the ribbon from his ear, making sure not to rip it with his claws. He let out a huff, dissatisfied that his ‘prank’ was already over and that he would have to move on to something else.

Should he slaughter more Sinners – go out and find more of Vox's employees and risk getting caught doing so? What would Vox even do in retaliation? Sing his pissy little song about his Master again on that awful picture box?

It sounded much more fun than pranking Niffty, who didn't seem like he would get an entertaining reaction from.

He could switch her bleach with water – but that was boring, he already did something similar with Husk and it's not like he could watch and snicker cruelly at Niffty afterwards since she wouldn't suffer from withdrawals. She might briefly huff and pout, but that would probably be the extent of it.

She was already quite deranged, she would more than likely enjoy anything he could think of and he didn't want anyone to enjoy anything until he could see and cuddle up to you again.

He still wanted to avoid Angel Dust and besides, the adult picture show actor wasn't even at the hotel to begin with. He didn't care where the spider was, but he was probably at work with that other Vee.

He could always mess with Angel Dust's room, tear it to shreds before the spider arrived back, but that meant stepping into it and the thought of all those disgusting sex fluids that still covered the surfaces of that room, just unseen to the naked eye, was enough to put a halt on that idea.

No, the only sex fluid he (and his Master) would ever partake in is your slick and the very thought had him salivating and his tail wagging.

But before he could get lost in his arousing thoughts, he had to get this ribbon back to his Master before he accidentally ruined it.

~00~

You have to wonder.

Did Alastor go out of his way to drive you out of your coherent fucking mind or was he just malevolent enough to come up with these nasty ideas right on the spot?

Probably a little bit of both.

“NO!” You sob, arms struggling against their restraints and legs kicking out uselessly as you were denied your orgasm yet again - what was that, the third time now? “No, hah! Please, Alastor!” You were literally dripping now, slick oozing down your thighs to stain the sheets below.

You could be embarrassed about it later.

“Hmm, I must say, I do enjoy the sound of your begging, it’s always pleasing to my ears.” Alastor pulled his staff back, hovering the microphone just over your quivering folds, but not quite touching. “It’s lovely. Won’t you keep it up, Darling?”

Oh fuck, keep it up? How many more orgasms was he going to ruin?

“H-how else…?” You slurred, feeling your head snap back when the microphone starts vibrating once again against your sensitized clit. You barely feel the pain when the back of your head bangs against the headboard of the bed since it only adds to the light-headed feeling swirling around your mushy brain. “–should I b-be begging?”

You can only say please so many times, doesn’t Alastor get tired of it?

Alastor tapped his fingers against the shaft of his microphone staff, eyeing you for a moment to make sure you didn’t accidentally concuss yourself. He may be a bit of a sadist, but not so much as to cause permanent damage to his precious doe. “Oh dear, have you lost the ability to speak? Surely you can do better than that?”

“Nngh!” A strange sound erupted from your mouth and your vision was swimming. “C-can I cum?” Finally, words are forming and you gasp when the vibrations against your cunt seem to intensify. “Please, let me cum, Alastor!”

“I suppose you can. You’ve been a good girl tonight.” Alastor cooed, knowing he had to wrap things up a little quicker than he would like because he could sense his shadow was close and honestly, it just might out right disobey him again if it sees you like this. “Go on then. Cum.” He reached over, tracing over your slick folds before sliding two fingers into you smoothly because of how wet you are.

You tremble, feeling Alastor’s fingers press against that sensitive spot inside you, hitting it again and again with precision while holding his microphone on your small bundle of nerves. “A-ah!” Your eyes rolled back and your slippery walls clamp down around Alastor’s fingers, but he doesn’t stop, working you through your orgasm until it starts to become painful, “Oh… no, no more…”

The vibrations of his microphone slow down gradually when your hips try to shift away and Alastor is still casually bumping his fingers against that responsive little spot, allowing the tentacles restraining your arms to retract from the headboard. He finally pulls away from you and you let out a little breath. “Do you need anything, dearest?”

You collapse against the bed, grimacing at the sticky feeling between your legs, but you’re not in the mood for a bath. Your body and mind were buzzing pleasantly with endorphins and your eyes looked up to Alastor and your mouth opened before your brain could really think of what you were actually saying.

Honestly, he should like it, he really should! He loved those cringey puns and dad jokes and other than his mug and referring to you as a doe (which wasn’t a joke to him), Alastor really seemed to stay clear from any deer puns.

“Nope, I feel like a million ‘bucks’!”

It seemed to take a moment for him and his grin twitched on one side, static dying down for a second and he seemed to let out a sigh.

“Quite…amusing, Darling.”

~00~

He was bitter, furious.

Was his Master torturing him? Trying to get him to deliberately disobey him? Why would his Master call him back, end his prank – his current amusement – only to be wrapped up in you, when he wasn’t allowed to be? His Master’s emotions were his as well and stronger ones like desire wreaked havoc on a being like him.

He growled, stalking towards the exit of the hotel, ears flat against his head when he spotted Charlie. He made a beeline for her, causing her to gasp in surprise at the sight of him and take a step back.

He let out a huff, not even allowing her to say anything as he threw the ribbon at her feet before he disappeared into the floor, speeding out of sight before anger could take hold of him and he did something he couldn’t take back.

“T-thank you?” Charlie was confused by the strange occurrence, but grateful all the same. She picked up the ribbon and smiled widely, hugging it against her chest. 

She knew that Vaggie had told you about the lost ribbon, so maybe you had told Alastor and he actually decided to help for once? And for something that he would deem so unimportant and beneath him? Even if he only used his shadow to help, it was a big step forward.

Maybe there was hope for him? 

Probably not, but you really did bring a softer side out of him and it always brightened her day seeing you and Alastor together.

Who would have thought the Radio Demon would ever find love?

~00~

There was a commotion outside.

“What now?” Angel Dust groaned from the bar, slamming back his drink and he winced when he moved in the wrong way. Val had really been doing a number on him lately and he wasn’t in the mood for any weird shit.

He was already on guard for that creepy shadow since Husk and Vaggie already warned him and he had told Cherri Bomb to stay away for a few days since he just needed some nice R&R, so who the hell was it now?

“I know that fucking voice.” Husk scowled. “What the fuck is she doing here? She knows she’s not welcome here.” Well, it would be only a matter of a few minutes before Alastor noticed, if he hadn’t already, and she would be sent on her way – or better yet, shut up permanently for coming back to the hotel.

“Ya can’t mean…?” Angel lifted his head as Husk rolled his eyes before shrugging. “She’s not that stupid, right? Smiles told her right to her face not to come back.”

“She was involved in the Boss’ life when they were alive, how smart could she possibly be?” Husk grunted and Angel’s brow rose at the unintentional insult to you. “Well, no offense to Y/N. Boss actually seems to care about her, as unlikely as it is.”

“You serious? Smiles is head over heels for Y/N! But I get it, you got a bias against the guy, for a good reason. I don’t blame ya if you can’t see it.” Angel let out a laugh at Husk’s glare. “Hey, it just means we don’t have to worry about Smiles paying attention to us as much when it's all directed to Dollface.”

“Is that so, my effeminate fellow?”

Angel jumped in surprise, nearly falling off the bar stool as Alastor and you rose up from a void of black through the floor right behind him. “You’re gonna give someone a heart attack doing that!” 

“Interesting method, but not efficient or quick enough. I think I’d rather just rip the heart straight from the che–” Alastor glanced down when you put your hand on his shoulder.

“I think what Angel means is that you scared him by appearing behind him so suddenly.” You explain with an affectionate grin, seeing the relieved look Angel is sending you. “Anyway, is she really…?”

“She always was a bullheaded woman.” Alastor’s smile is tight and his fangs are gritting. “But the absolute audacity to show up here after I explicitly told her she’s not welcome.” He closed his eyes and let out a calming breath before opening them again. “Well, I suppose I should see what she wants. Darling, stay close to me.”

Alastor gestured you to follow him and you did so, stepping past the front doors of the hotel to see why the commotion was even happening to begin with.

Why was Mimzy, of all Sinners, here?

“I ain't leaving until Alastor shows his face!” Mimzy snarled impressively, flanked by two bulky shark demons on each of her side. “I know he's here!”

 It seemed she hadn't learned her lesson yet about getting tangled in the world of loan sharks, which was that much more dangerous in Hell.

“He told you to stay away!” Vaggie had her weapon at the ready, prepared to strike at any sudden movements. “You almost destroyed the hotel last time you showed up. I'm not going to let you do it again.”

Charlie flailed a bit, glancing between Vaggie and Mimzy while wringing her hands. She wasn't particularly happy to see Mimzy again, but if Mimzy wanted her shot at redemption, Charlie certainly couldn't deny her that.

“Mimzy! What a pleasure to see you again!” Alastor’s cheerful voice cut in, but his expression told a completely different story as his pupils slowly began to shift into radio dials. “I believe I told you t͓̰̹̣ͨ̈́̿o̭̞̗͍ͦ̾ n̷͇͈̎̉̌͘ê̢̼̱̝v̻͔̆ẻ͇̊ṟ͆ͪͧ s͑͗h̸̪̋ͯ́o̥̘w͒̆̕ y̢͚o̘͎͔̪̒ͦ̿u̖ṟ̥̤̆ͭ͜͠ f̘á̯ͪ̔͋c̻̽̂ͬ͒͜e̶̳͑ͤͦ́ͅ ĥ͟e̋r̰̬̹̀̾͞e ǎ̞g̏ͭa͂ǐn̰̱̓ͩ͡.”

“Heh, believe me, I don't wanna be here either.” Mimzy huffed, crossing her arms under her ample bosom. Her eyes drifted to you and her brow rose in surprise. “You're still around? Huh, thought Alastor would've dropped you like a hot potato by now.”

Charlie immediately recoiled back and Vaggie almost slapped her own face at the utterly stupid and probable life-ending words coming from Mimzy's big mouth.

You really didn't have much of a reaction, you didn't need to.

Alastor’s head tilted at an unnatural angle, accompanied with a loud disturbing snapping noise. “You come here, to the hotel under my protection, as an unwelcome guest, and then proceed to insult my mate not only in front of me, but to her as well?” His eyes were beginning to black out and his antlers were growing rapidly.

Mimzy now seemed to realize her mistake and took a step back, trying to look smaller and hide behind her two lackeys, who were also visibly panicking, “I didn't mean anything by it, I swear! C'mon, Al, I'm just going by what I know! When we were livin’, you never had a woman on your arm for more than a single night! A-and even then, you never took them to your home!”

Alastor barely registered Mimzy's words, but his rage became manageable when you placed a comforting hand on his arm. “Just hear her out?” You asked. “If you kill her, you might regret it later. You were friends in life, right?”

“More so business partners than anything else.” Alastor answered under his breath. “We exchanged favours. We benefited from each other. I can't say it was anything more than that.”

“I’m…I’m sure she has some good reason for showing up here.” You sigh, though you were not very convinced of your own words. You had no real idea what to think of Mimzy and her last appearance at the hotel hadn’t exactly raised your opinion of her.

That, and she had subtly insulted you by calling you ‘Plain Jane Doe’ and that you were not even near the league of beauties that Alastor associated with, drank and danced the night away with at the speakeasy Mimzy ran back when they were alive. Of course she had done so while Alastor was out of earshot.

But still, on one hand, she was an acquaintance of Alastor’s, one he seemed a little more friendly with than most. On the other hand, Husk had outright warned you Mimzy only showed up when she needed Alastor to help her out of whatever hole she had dug herself into and it seemed she had done so often enough in the past that she simply expected it, that Alastor would ‘take care of her’.

“Oh, it’s a pretty damn good reason, sugar.” Mimzy’s panic quickly turned to annoyance once she remembered the reason she had bothered to come to the hotel. “Alastor, I know you can be petty, but I didn’t think you’d sink this low!” Her expression turned ugly. “Is it payback for the one time I came here?! Did it really bother you that much?! You can just use your hoodoo voodoo crap to magic it all back, can’t you!? Well, I can’t!”

“Err, what are you talking about?” Charlie asked reluctantly, seeing how upset Mimzy was, but none of them had a clue what she was referring to.

“My club!” Mimzy screeched. “Alastor sent his shadow to my club! And that thing destroyed it! Completely ruined it! Do you know how long it’ll take me to fix it back the way it was?!” Her hands curled into claws as she glared viciously at Alastor. “And that’s not the only thing it did!”

You stared wide-eyed at the blonde woman in disbelief.

“It ate ten of my contractees! Ten souls may be chump change for you, Alastor, but that’s a serious blow to me! I can’t believe you! I never thought you would turn on me like this!” Mimzy spat. 

Alastor returned to his regular form, his anger turning something more contemplative. If he were completely honest, he didn’t care how this affected Mimzy because, well, he had nothing to gain or lose in her situation. 

But this was also curious and vexing at the same time since he did not tell his shadow to do such a thing and an action like this was far beyond its familiar activities.

If he left his shadow to its own devices for longer than he intended, what else would it do? Was it that outraged it couldn’t see you it needed to scatter destruction wherever it went?

Well, he couldn’t blame his shadow, he couldn’t exactly say what his actions would be if he were to be suddenly separated from you, but he knew they wouldn’t be pretty.

“I believe you’re well aware of the type of relationship we truly have, Mimzy.” Alastor didn’t exactly want to admit in front of others that his shadow was briefly out of his control for a time. “Give and take. Tit for tat. However you wish to word it. Here in Hell, I have given you much, much more than I have taken. How many times have I saved you from your own foolishness?” Alastor gave an obvious look to the loan sharks still by Mimzy’s side. “And you refuse to learn from it. You can think of this as retribution if you want. Tell me, what would I gain if I chose to help you this time?”

You gave Alastor a look of dismay, but you weren’t surprised.

Mimzy ground her teeth. “Huh, fine. Guess we’re even then. I do a little damage to your shithole hotel, which you can fix with a snap of your fingers and you total my club, which will take me weeks, maybe months to fix.” She turned to the car waiting for her and the loan sharks followed after her. “Got it, Alastor. Your little squeeze there is more important than a decades-long partnership.”

With that, she was gone from the hotel.

“W-well, that was something!” Charlie laughed uncomfortably, breaking the tense silence and was about to say more, but slammed her mouth shut when Vaggie shook her head at her. “L-let’s just head back.” She muttered.

The short trek back was just as tense.

“What the fuck did she want?” Husk asked as soon as he caught sight of everyone. “She’s not coming back again, right?”

“I should think not.” Alastor answered. “I believe I drew a very clear line this time. I’m sure Mimzy will be busy for quite a while and won’t have the time to think of our humble hotel here.”

“Good.” Husk simply said, shrugging. “That bitch was never good news. Glad you finally see what I've always seen, Boss.” He ignored Angel’s snickers from the bar.

“Alastor,” You bit your lip nervously, catching his attention as he glanced towards you, a knowing look in his eyes. “Can I talk to you?”

Alastor said nothing, he just put his hand on your shoulder and you both were travelling through his shadows and to your shared room.

What a conversation this was going to be.

~00~

“You’ve been quite the help!”

The shadow let out a chirp, but barely felt the satisfaction it used to feel when Rosie praised him in the past for delivering her any extra meat he and his Master had on their hands. 

He wanted to see you.

But he still had three days to go and he had no idea this was possible for a supernatural being like him, but he felt like he was losing what little rationality he had. 

It was surprising he hadn’t felt his Master call for him yet, he had to have heard what he had done to Mimzy’s club by now, but he was going to do whatever he could to keep his desire suppressed as best as he could.

Bloodlust and a penchant for violence was a good way to go.

And going back to the hotel now – he would, without a doubt, disobey his orders and that wouldn’t be good.

Or would it?

Maybe he could somehow catch you alone, bask in your presence, regain some of his sanity, and attempt to tell you about his Master’s tail. His Master wouldn’t be happy and his punishment would probably be extended, but getting them over with all at once sounded better than them being spread out.

The secret about his tail was coming out one way or another.

Maybe he could somehow compromise with his Master – maybe he could only see you when you’re sleeping? He wouldn’t touch you, of course not! He’d just watch you from a distance, just having you in sight and your scent nearby was good enough for him.

“I have to say, this is quite the haul!” Rosie’s voice broke him out of his thoughts. “It’s not like Alastor to overindulge like this at all. He has a distaste for wasting food.” Rosie tilted her head thoughtfully. “And I don’t believe the rutting season doesn’t start for a few more months, so that can’t be it.”

Rosie wasn't complaining, was she?

“I am ever so grateful of course, do not get me wrong.” Rosie seemed to notice the downright ominous scowl on his face, though she did not seem frightened in the least. “For your troubles, I’m more than happy to give you any choice of your preferred meat. Any cut you like! I believe I even received some venison this morning!” She tempted him with a grin.

His ears perked up, teetering on the choice whether to accept Rosie’s offer or not. He had already gotten his fill earlier – it had been rather satisfying devouring those insignificant lackeys under Mimzy’s control right in front of her while she couldn’t do a thing about it – but Sinner venison wasn’t particularly common in Hell and it was something his Master could only indulge in once in a while.

Could he use it to bargain?

He nodded eagerly and Rosie’s grin grew wider, as if she expected his answer. “Of course, of course! I did save it for Alastor after all. Wait here for a moment. I even have it packed up and ready to go. Plus a little sample for your help~”

It only took a few moments and Rosie was handing him a package and a few bite-sized pieces of raw venison. He took them with a pleased chitter and her fangs seemed to sparkle at him. “I always appreciate your deliveries, it’s always a great help! I look forward to seeing Alastor and dear Y/N at our next lunch date. One of these days we’ll manage to get her to at least nibble on a ladyfinger.” She joked, not hearing the soft whimper he allowed to escape from him at the sound of your name.

Hopefully his Master was craving deer.

~00~

Alastor stared at you expectantly.

It frustrated you a bit. “Don’t you think this has gone on long enough?” You finally said, seeing that he wasn’t going to say anything and fully expected you to initiate the conversation – he probably didn’t even see the need for a conversation and that made you a little upset.

“I do not. A week has not fully passed. Punishments are given for a reason, are they not? My shadow did not heed my command. I can’t have that.” Alastor answered as if it were already obvious.

“It’s just me, me! Your shadow did that because it likes me, because you feel something for me, or I at least I hope you do. You know I’m not going to tell anyone that you–you might bleat because your ears become extra sensitive or whatever goes on! I don’t really know much about deer biology– do you even follow deer biology? I-I just know I really, really like it when you do bleat because it–”

Damn it, you were fucking rambling nonsense and becoming totally off track.

Alastor’s brow rose, but he said nothing and just let you rant.

“No, no, I mean, uh…” You licked your lips nervously and your face was burning, but you ignored it. “Well, I do mean that, but really, even if you didn’t care if anyone else knew, I-I wouldn’t… wouldn’t…” You trailed off. 

You wouldn’t tell anyone anyway because, well, you wanted it – you wanted those bleats to belong solely to you.

Was that awful of you?

“Err, anyway, Shadowy seems to be escalating with each day. It was contained in the hotel at first, and even then, the pranks seemed a little more… cruel than usual. But with Mimzy, that… that’s completely– I don’t even know!” You shook your head. “Especially since you didn’t order it to do that! What’s next if you don’t stop this now? It attacks the Vees?!”

You were breathing a little harder now.

“Do you feel better now, Darling?” Alastor reached out and stroked a finger down the side of your face, feeling how heated your skin had become even through his glove. “It seems you had a lot on your mind for quite a while now.”

“Are you… are you going to call Shadowy back now?” You asked hopefully, glad that Alastor didn’t tease you for your rambling, but the situation seemed a little too serious for that now.

“I believe it’s coming back on its own.” Alastor answered. “But I cannot let up on its punishment.” He wasn’t surprised by your absolutely disappointed expression. “This is unexpected even to me. I never had given a thought to Mimzy since I had banned her from the hotel, so why did my shadow display such aggression against her? I have to admit, it’s very interesting to me as to what else it may do, but despite that, surely you must understand?”

You furrowed your brows.

“I am still an Overlord, dearest, the Radio Demon. If it gets out that I cannot control my own shadow, how would the souls I own react? It might make for an amusing broadcast, but I can’t have my pawns thinking they can rebel against me. Enough souls are lost during the Extermination, I would rather not add to that count myself.”

“T-that’s a fair point.” You certainly could see Alastor’s side, but why he was still letting his shadow run around freely was not something you could understand. “Maybe just five minutes? Two? Even a minute? Even thirty seconds? I… please let me see Shadowy for just a second so he doesn’t do something completely insane!”

“Three more days. I don’t think Hell will fall because my shadow refuses to behave.” Alastor observed as your disappointment deepened even further and you sighed. “But I will keep it on a tighter leash. It won’t be allowed anywhere near the Vees and their territory if that will ease your mind.”

“I, yeah, that’s good.” You just felt bad, horrible that these things were happening simply because Shadowy couldn’t see you and maybe Alastor’s reasons were reasonable in his eyes considering his position, but you still felt awful. “If you don’t mind, can I sleep in my old room tonight?”

“You needn’t ask my permission, my dear Doe.” Alastor’s smile grew tight, but nothing else gave away any displeasure. “Of course, you are welcome back at any time. You have no need to knock, this is our room after all.”

You nodded. “Thanks, that… that really means a lot to me.” You stepped up to him and he bent down out of habit, causing you to briefly smile. “I sorta get where you’re coming from. You’ve got your position to maintain.” You stepped on your toes to kiss Alastor’s cheek where his smile hadn’t managed to stretch. “But I don’t know, try to look from Shadowy’s view?” You stepped back from him and towards the door. “Goodnight, Alastor. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

The static was deafening.

~00~

“My my, what brings you back?”

His shadow chittered just as nonchalantly as Alastor appeared before glancing around the room, ears dropping when you clearly were not there, though that should have been expected.

“You have a captive audience in me. I would like to know, why did you attack Mimzy as you did?” Alastor asked, causing his shadow to bristle at him and he couldn’t help but to chuckle almost darkly. “Oh, fear not. I am not angered by your admittedly odd actions. In fact, they are almost intriguing in how… erratic they are.”

His shadow huffed before it went on a rant of growls, chirps, and snarls and Alastor listened patiently until it was finished.

“You went after Mimzy because she insulted my precious Doe while I was giving that little dead-beat king a tour and this was your opportunity to do so freely, is that what you’re telling me?” Alastor could feel his form shifting once again because of Mimzy and he was not sure his rage could be quelled this time around. “W̯͚̼̓͋͑h̰͕ͤ͊̈́͘ỹ̗ ẅ͉̚͝a͔͆ͅs͍͕͈̏̆̈́̐ Ỉ n̹̳͒̐o͟ț͍̰̆̌ i̲̳ͥn͌̃͊_f̵̝̣̭̣o̝̙ͣͯ̂r̗̰͑̌̚med̸ͦ͆ o̮ͮf t̗̰h̬̅͛i̵̥̅͋s?͈͘͢”

His shadow tittered, causing Alastor to stop in his transformation. He closed his eyes, willing himself back to his normal form and took a breath. “Darling begged you not to tell me?” He wanted to shake his head at your naivete – sometimes he even wondered why you were in Hell to begin with. “She didn’t want me breaking my friendship with Mimzy over a mere insult?”

Oh, his dearest Doe still had much to learn it seemed and he was more than happy to teach you.

“I suppose it’s a good start for now.” Alastor grinned wickedly. “Once Mimzy rebuilds her club, we can proceed from there.” His expression then returned to its usual one. “Our dearest is worried about you,” He watched as his shadow’s ears immediately perked and there was somehow a tinge of red on its blackened face. “You are not allowed anywhere near the Vees or allowed to take a single step in their territory, am I clear?”

His shadow nodded and Alastor was satisfied, knowing it would not break this restriction. He glanced up when his shadow reached into his own body, pulling out a package from a void and Alastor’s ears stood straight up as soon as the smell hit him.

Venison.

And not just that.

Venison from a Sinner.

“A gift from Rosie, I assume?” Alastor asked casually, narrowing his eyes when his shadow did not hand over the meat right away like it normally would have done. “I suppose I can at least hear you out.”

His shadow gripped the venison tightly before chittering and chirping, tittering and whining, giving his Master his side of the story. If his Master could not agree, he would just burn this venison to ash (even if that was just such a waste).

Alastor could feel the drool run down his fangs as he stared intently at the package held in his shadow’s hands. Venison from Sinners was rare since deer demons themselves were scarce. Most deer and other prey-based demons were simply killed within minutes of waking up in Hell since they were considered easier targets, and so, the deer demon population was small and only getting smaller.

Sinner venison was a luxury nowadays, even for an Overlord like him. He usually had to make due with just regular venison (though you enjoyed it well enough).

But was it a luxury worth his authority over his shadow?

His shadow whimpered and whined, sniveling and Alastor thought back to your words for a moment, ‘to look from Shadowy’s view’, before his ears flattened briefly and he let out a sigh. “All right. The venison is mine and you get five minutes and only five minutes.” He turned when his shadow let out a happy purr and threw him the package of venison before disappearing into the floor and streaking out of the room in a flash.

Alastor shook his head, grabbing the packaged venison before he moved toward his bayou dimension, needing some fresh air to think and clear his head of what had just happened.

“I’m growing soft.”

~00~

You couldn’t sleep.

You tossed and turned before letting out a defeated noise as you sat up in the bed. Were you really that pathetic? That you couldn’t sleep without Alastor around in the room?

No, no, it wasn’t that, the guilt of it all was getting to you – Husk suffering withdrawals, the death(?) of one of Sir Pentious Egg Boiz, and Vaggie’s ribbon. Luckily, Charlie, Angel Dust, and Niffty were overlooked by Shadowy, but it was Mimzy that made you feel the worst.

You had mixed feelings about Mimzy, but having her club – her income – destroyed and ten of her owned souls just ripped away wasn’t something she deserved.

All of this was happening because of you, this was your fault.

You let out a ragged sigh, bringing your knees to your chest to lie your head on them, not noticing the big black shape streaking right under your door and towards your bed.

Cold arms wrapped around you and you jumped in fright, beginning to shout when a tendril covered your mouth before you could scream. A familiar purr rumbled in your ears and your panic slowly ebbed away in disbelief.

Did… did Alastor actually change his mind?

“Shadowy?” You whisper and he nodded enthusiastically against you, rubbing his face against your neck as he practically tried to climb into your lap with his much bigger body and failed rather miserably. “How? Did Alastor let you…?”

Shadowy nodded again and held out five fingers. “Five minutes?” You guessed and Shadowy let out a chirp. “It’s not much, but it’s better than nothing.” You smiled. “I’ve missed you, Shadowy.”

“♡♡~” Shadowy made those heart eyes at you again, but then his ears perked straight up as if he remembered something important. You blinked, watching as Shadowy reluctantly left your warmth and moved towards the little nightstand beside your bed, where an old radio had been placed.

“Oh, yeah, meant to bring that to the other room.” You muttered, not sure why Shadowy would be interested in the antique when time was short. You blink again when Shadowy pulls you closer to him and it hits you that he’s trying to tell you something like he did with the bleats. “A-are you sure? Alastor might get annoyed again.”

Shadowy shook his head, simply tapping the radio and it turned on, much to your amazement (though he is a part of the Radio Demon, what did you expect?) and he reached out to you, grabbing your hand and curling your fingers around his tail.

“Y-you want me to pet your tail!?” You blanched, paling at the thought. You had never touched Alastor’s tail even outside of the bedroom, you knew it was a trait that he absolutely loathed about himself.

Hell, he had even confided in you (the one and only time you had ever seen him drunk, even if it was mildly so) that he had attempted to cut off his own tail numerous times back in his early days, only for it to grow back the next day like nothing happened.

You were probably the very, very few who even knew he had a tail to begin with. Even his shadow didn't show his tail when others were around and typically only let it emerge around you as a form of communication.

And Shadowy wanted you to touch Alastor’s tail?! During sex at that?! 

Shadowy wrapped his cold hand over yours, making sure you had a firm grip on his tail and he tugged, and you snapped your head to look at his face. “You… you bleated again. Is this just another way to get you both to bleat?”

Shadowy pointed to himself and directed you to tug his tail again, which you did curiously. Your face must be turning red when Shadowy let out that cute little noise again. He then patted both hands on his chest and used his thumb to point directly at himself.

“Are you saying only you bleat when your tail is pulled and that… that Alastor reacts differently?” You are almost crushed against the bed when Shadowy happily leaps on you, tail wagging furiously. “Do you know how Alastor reacts?”

Of course it does, it's a literal part of him.

Shadowy moves closer to the radio, pulling you along with him. He gestured for you to grab his tail again and you reluctantly do so, firmly grasping it. He nodded and you tugged and just as you did that, you heard a bleat and Shadowy tapped the radio and the station it was set on changed.

What?

You tug again, hear that cute bleat, and the station changes again.

T-that can't be right…?!

“Why would you tell me this, Shadowy?!” You panic. “This is way beyond a bleat!” You tensed when you felt Shadowy’s hands on your shoulders before he pulled back. He cupped his hands, clumsily shaping them into a form of a heart and you let out a strange choked noise.

How many minutes have gone by? How many do you have left?

Shadowy is all over you, ripping off your sleeping bottoms when you're too slow for him. His claws hook into your panties and he drags them down your legs and throws them somewhere across the room.

“It has to be quick. Really quick.” You mumbled, your face burning when you feel Shadowy’s cold hands spread your legs. The anticipation has you started, but you're still not nearly wet enough for it to be comfortable.

Shadowy buries his face in your cunt, parting your folds with his fingers and keeping them spread as he laps around them a few times before moving to that fleshy little nub that seems to give you the most pleasure. He elongated his tongue, circling and flicking it before lightly tugging at your sensitive clit without reprieve.

“Fuck, oh fuck!” Your eyes are blurred with tears and your brain is going fuzzy, but you still reach down and grab onto Shadowy's ears. He purred at your touch, licking at you faster as he slid one finger towards your now soaking hole.

Your thighs squeeze around Shadowy’s head when he bleats as you squeeze his ears and you could probably just cum on the little vibrations alone – just a few more…

Oh shit!

‘How did he find that spot?’ You thought dazedly, feeling Shadowy’s finger jam repeatedly into that extra sensitive area among your velvety walls. He was still slurping away at you, releasing a vibrating bleat every time you remembered to squeeze his ears.

You came when a second finger poked down hard on that spot and you were seeing stars, clenching on Shadowy’s fingers and tongue as he released a few more bleats when you held onto his ears and did not let go. 

You sank back into the bed, muscles twitching in your legs when Shadowy kept on licking at you, determined to get every drop of slick it could possibly wring from your body. “P-please, ah, it's too much.” 

Shadowy finally pulled back, licking his lips of the last of your slick before he crawled to your side, placing a hand on the side of your face and letting out a concerned coo.

Again, your mouth is working before your brain is and you seriously wonder if those orgasms are frying your mind to mush.

“I love you, Shadowy, so ‘deerly’ much.”

Shadowy lets out a noise that suspiciously sounds like a groan.

~00~

Alastor was no longer hungry.

His venison would have to wait.

It had surprised him when he felt the radio he had given you turn on and quickly felt it was his shadow's doing.

His brow rose, wondering why his shadow was using his five minutes tinkering with a radio when it could be devouring you between your legs, but those thoughts are swiftly pushed away.

The station has changed.

He can hear his shadow bleating.

The station changed aga– 

Alastor's grin widens obscenely and stitches appear to hold his face together. He digs his claws into the nearest tree, almost ripping it down as his growing antlers stab right into the trunk and still continue to grow.

“Why would you tell me this, Shadowy?!” 

Alastor can hear your panicked voice through the radio and it serves to calm him down some. He rips his antlers from the tree and watches with satisfaction as it falls.

“This is way beyond a bleat!”

Very much so, Darling. 

His smile twitched in places, as if he were having trouble keeping it together, suddenly recalling what you said to him the night you had gotten him to bleat.

His shadow was a part of him. What he felt, it felt. Whatever he chose to push down, away, and to the back of his mind would end up expressed in his shadow freely, no matter how much he wished it weren't so.

Why?

Why in all the rings of Hell would he want to tell you this utterly pathetic thing about himself?

A bleat? Fine, you can have all the damn bleats you wanted, but this?

Did you really want to see him lose his composure – his control that badly?

(Or was it him? Did he want that???)

No, no – there was only one logical explanation for this and it made sense, it had to. You were his mate, after all. Mates tended to groom one another, didn't they?

He just wanted you to stroke his tail, that's it.

~00~

“Shadowy?”

It shouldn’t be surprising that Shadowy was gone, Alastor had only given him five minutes after all, but it was still a little disheartening to wake up to an empty room. You must have fallen asleep not long after your quick little tryst with your lover’s shadow – guilt eased somewhat, knowing that he wasn’t causing any trouble.

You stretched, giving a look at your ripped sleepwear and chucking them into the corner of the room. You would either have to throw them out or ask Alastor to fix them up with his magic and you definitely didn’t want to ask him that any time soon.

You flounder for a bit as you pull on some new clothes before ultimately deciding to head back to your shared room with Alastor. He did say you were welcome back at any time, right? There was no reason to be hesitating and if he was in a foul mood, you doubted he would even be there.

You took in a deep breath before opening the door, not needing a key as his magic recognized your presence and you slowly stepped in. “Alastor?” You called out, knowing he had to be here since you could hear the faint jazz playing in the background.

“Did you enjoy yourself last night?”

You almost jump when Alastor manifests behind you, feeling his hand stroke through your hair once as he waited for your answer. “I-I did.” You swallow. “I don’t know why you changed your mind, but thank you. Thank you so much, Alastor.” Your fingers are fidgeting. “Can I… can I do something for you?”

“That blasted shadow of mine is more cunning than I originally thought it to be. It came across something rare enough that even I had to think twice. How pesky it has become.” Alastor seemed more amused than anything and that had you relieved. “But also quite fascinating.”

Alastor is directing you to your shared bed.

“S-something rare?” You stammer a bit, not sure what Alastor has in mind. “What would that be?” You’re honestly curious about what it could be that he actually changed his mind, it had to be something pretty valuable for him to even consider doing so.

“Nothing you would be interested in.” Alastor answered offhandedly. “I must admit, I am bothered by something my shadow told me last night.” He pushed you lightly onto the bed and before you could fully comprehend his words, he was already in the bed with you, head settled in your lap. “However, I shall forgive you should you forget what you learned last night. Focus yourself on my bleats instead. You believe them to be ‘cute’, correct?”

Bothered? 

What was he bothered by? What did his shadow tell him?

How could you possibly forget about his tail?

“Can I ask what?” Your hands shake a bit as they trace the shape of Alastor’s soft ears and there is no bleating, Alastor can control those sounds in a normal state. After a moment, your strokes become more firm and his ears droop a little in response. “I do think your bleats are cute, though.” You quickly say under your breath.

“Hmm, ‘Plain Jane Doe’, is it?”

Ah, damn it!

“You heard Mimzy, she said she meant nothing by it!” You accidentally squeeze down on Alastor’s ears, but he doesn’t seem to notice or care as his red eyes stare a hole into you. “It doesn’t really matter, does it?”

Alastor had called you his mate and that made you happy.

That’s all you could ask for and who cares what Mimzy thought?

“There may have been a bit of truth to what Mimzy said.” Alastor admitted. “I did accompany women to Mimzy’s speakeasy for a dance and drink. I did it to boost my appearance, to look like a normal man. Presenting myself as ‘normal’ is how I got away with killing for as long as I did.” He glanced up to you to see your attentive gaze. 

It wasn’t often he spoke of his mortal life, after all.

“Mimzy does have a way with twisting words. ‘Jane Doe’ is a name for an unidentified female victim, isn’t it? She very well knows I never killed a woman as a human. I do wonder if all that alcohol has ravaged any wit she has left. Ṯ̡͒o͂͟ i͔̰̓̑̊m̨̫͈͑ṗ͙̓ḷ̴ͤ̍͟y̡̥̹̌ I̋ͣ w͐͌͋o̡͙̮͚ͥ̉uͭl̛̤ͧ̐̔͞d̙̖ m̪u͊̾͆r͉̹̘̈́̐̀d̵͍̂͜͠é̪ͤͩ͢ȑ m̻ͤ̌͗͝ͅy̸͇ͩ o̠̠͈ͥͭ̀̚w̶͕̚ṋ̽ m̂a̴t̶̹͌̅è͈͉?”

He was getting angry again at the thought of Mimzy.

You smiled, feeling your face grow warm and you couldn’t help but to feel giddy and Alastor’s smile twitched, not sure what your reaction was.

“I’m sorry!” Your smile was blissful and your hands were back at stroking his ears. “I’m just so happy… that you consider me your mate!” Your face must be completely red by now, but you just feel like you’re floating on clouds. “You’re my mate too, Alastor! I-if you want me…”

Your answer was a bleat.

Your head snapped down to look at Alastor, whose eyes were closed, there seemed to be a red tinge to his skin, and his smile was wonky and twitchy, looking as though it was taking everything out of him to keep it a smile.

You say nothing and keep on petting his ears, hearing those soft bleats every once in a while as you tangle your hands in his hair near his antlers. You gave them an experimental stroke, but there is no reaction, much to your disappointment.

“You would have to wait until rutting season for that.” Alastor’s eyes open and he sits up from your lap. “I do believe my previous bother is no longer a bother to me anymore.” He turns to you. “Well done, Darling.”

“Of course!” You’re still riding your little high. “I’ll touch your ears anytime!” You wanted to add to that, that you wanted to touch his tail too, but he wanted you to forget about that and you would.

For now at least.

-----

Taglist:

@chibistar45 @mo-0-o @sirens-and-moonflowers @ashdaidiot

[beenbaanbuun]

nudes w/ yunho

words - an amount

genre - smut

warnings - nudes, dom!yunho, degredation, finger sucking, masturbation

——————————————————————————

A smirk grew on your face as you read over the text you’d just received from your boyfriend.

‘Can you stop sending me nudes?’

You sat there in your lace underwear set, a wet puddle forming between your thighs as you thought about all the things he’d do to you once he was home. He was very big on punishments, much to your enjoyment. Sometimes, you went out of your way to annoy him, just so you could spend the night under him as he played with your body as if it was his own personal toy.

‘Why?’ You shot back, fingers slowly making their way down to your core. Technically you weren’t supposed to play with yourself without Yunho’s permission, but what he didn't know wouldn’t hurt him. And if he did know? Well, it's not like the consequences would be anything you wouldn’t be more than happy to deal with.

‘I’m at work, Sweetheart.’ Despite his kind words, you knew that he was seething. You could see him when you shut your eyes. Jaw clenched and eyebrow raised as he breathed heavily through flared nostrils. Just thinking about his anger made another wave of desire surge through you. As you trailed your fingers around the edge of your panties, you couldn’t help but notice another gush of slick coming from your twitching hole. God, you couldn't wait for Yunho to get home.

‘I just wanted to show you my new panties.’

Your fingers made their way beneath the soft material and your breath hitched as your fingers caught on your clit. A breathy moan made its way up your throat as you toyed with the little nub for a moment or two, gently rubbing circles before pinching it lightly. You imagined it was Yunho, but your hand felt completely different to his. It was smaller for a start, and you could never play with yourself in the same way he did. He could make you squirm in a way you didnt even think was possible.

If making you cum was an art, your boyfriend had mastered it. You, on the other hand, were still learning, and bringing yourself to the edge was much harder than he made it seem. Even on those nights that he simply refused to touch you, inspecting you carefully from across the room with a smug smirk, it was so much easier for you to cum. At least then there was a firm voice instructing you where to move your fingers, whether to add more or less pressure, and exactly when to do so. Now, you felt lost. Without the presence of Yunho, there was no hope for you.

The initial pleasure soon dissipated and in its place came disappointment. You were just aimlessly touching your clit now, a frown present on your face as you pleaded with whoever was up there that Yunho would come home from work early. You were certain that all you needed to cum was a firm hand and a deep voice to push you to your limits.

Yet even with your lack of ability to push yourself to the edge, it wasn't until your phone chimed that you actually removed your fingers from your panties. You brought them up to your face, carefully studying the way they shimmered with your slick. You spread your middle and your index fingers, watching as your arousal stretched between them like a spider's web on a dewy summer’s morning. It was pretty, in some sort of weird, erotic way, and you couldn’t help but admire it. Not for long though, a thought suddenly striking you and pulling you from your trance; Yunho would make you lick them clean.

That’s all it took for you to guide them to your awaiting mouth. You pushed them to the back of your throat, almost gagging on them before you closed your lips around them. It didn't taste particularly exciting - you were all too familiar with the taste of yourself by now- but it reminded you of your boyfriend nonetheless. Of all the times he’d choked you with his long fingers after pulling them from your creamy hole. So with a smile on your face, you circled your tongue around your fingers, sucking all of your slick off of them.

As you did so, you lifted your phone up to your face, and read the latest message from Yunho.

‘You don’t know what you’ve got yourself into, Sweetheart.’ You had to grin because yes, you did. In fact, it was the knowledge of what he may do to you that led you to orchestrate this whole situation. You wanted Yunho to dominate you, and you wanted it bad. The lack of power as he controlled your mind, body and soul tempted you like nothing else. The way he can so easily seize control of you, reducing you down to nothing but his puppet was something you desired to no end. It was as peaceful as it was exciting, hushing your mind until there was nothing left but him.

So yes, you knew exactly what you got yourself into.

‘Hurry back before I cause any more trouble.’ It took you a while to type it out with only your non-dominant hand, but Yunho waited for your reply anyway. The moment it sent, you spotted the three little dots that let you know he was typing. It felt good to know that you had him wrapped around your little finger, just like he had you.

‘Already on my way.’

The words popped up onto your screen and you grinned, knowing that he’d soon be there to take care of you. You turned your phone face down on the bed and closed your eyes, simply letting yourself relax into the buzz of excitement that flowed through your body.

———

It took Yunho a little over 30 minutes to get home, by which time, you'd fallen asleep. It was no secret that over the years you spent with your boyfriend, you'd developed a little bit of an oral fixation, specifically when it came to his hands. Having his fingers pressed to your tongue always seemed to put you even deeper into a submissive headspace; despite your fingers not comparing to the length, girth or warmth of his own, they still helped you relax deep enough for you to fall into a quiet slumber.

“Jesus, Sweetheart,” were the words that woke you. Deep and smooth as always, coming from the man you loved most in the world. He sounded like chocolate, making you all warm and fuzzy on the inside. “After all that, you’ve passed out on me. Couldn’t even wait a few minutes for me to come home, hm?”

You mumbled something. Nothing of any particular meaning, but it made your boyfriend coo anyway. He always found you cute when you first woke up.

“If you’d behaved earlier, I might have let you sleep,” He said, and through your sleepy haze, you recognised the familiar condescending tone he usually used when the two of you were in bed together. Despite the fact that your brain was still coming to terms with being awake, you could still feel the ache in your pussy kick in again. “Unfortunately, my sweet girl isn't so sweet after all. Nasty little whore needs teaching a lesson.”

You subconsciously spread your legs, giving him access to the place that you so desperately wanted him. The display made him let out a low chuckle, which in turn made your hips buck slightly. Just the sound of his voice was enough to drive you crazy with need.

“Yun,” you whined, the words coming out jumbled, your fingers still pressed firmly down on your tongue. Only now did you crack your eyes open wide enough to get a good look at him. He was all dressed up in his dress shirt and slacks, sleeve rolled up to his elbows and hands in his pockets. He looked just as handsome as he did ‘in-charge’ and you loved every second of it.

“She speaks,” He squatted down so that his face lined up with yours. You couldn't help but notice how pretty he looked with those long black bangs sitting on his brow bone and that cruel glint in his eye that warned you of just how much trouble you were in. “Shame you can’t use that brain to follow instructions, huh?” The question was rhetorical, but you nodded anyway.

You felt a warm hand wrap around your dominant hand’s wrist and pull. With a pop, your fingers were finally free from your wet cavern, but not for long. You watched with the utmost interest as Yunho opened his own mouth and encapsulated your fingers inside. He hummed deeply, letting his eyes flutter closed as he tasted your spit on your fingers. His tongue moved on its own, lapping at the appendages as if your saliva was going to be his last drink. It felt so dirty, but he didn't even blink an eye. It's as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

You never knew that your fingertips were an erogenous zone, but the feeling of his tongue trailing along them only served to make you wetter. You squeezed your thighs together, ignoring the painfully loud squelch as you did so. Your panties were embarrassingly soaked, but you couldn't help it. Not when Yunho was acting like the embodiment of temptation itself.

“You taste so sweet,” he mumbled as he pulled his mouth off of you. When he opened his eyes again, you couldn't help but notice that his pupils were blown out, lust taking over his face entirely. You couldn't see yourself, but you were almost positive that you were faring no better. “And that's why you’re my sweetheart, sweetheart.”

You gave him a sleepy giggle as he went back to lapping at your fingertips with the tiniest of kitten-licks. His tongue danced along them, dipping in between and swirling around the tips.

“I love you, Yun,” the words slipped from your lips before you could stop them. He smiled. A proper smile full of joy and love. It made your heart pitter-patter giddily.

“I love you too, Sweetheart,” He leaned forwards to offer you a sweet kiss to the lips. It was short lived, but it made your heart flutter like you were a schoolgirl receiving a letter from her crush. When he pulled away, his eyes were much darker, and that fuzzy, gentle feeling was replaced with hard, powerful lust. You swallowed hard as Yunho let a twisted little grin paint his face, “but I’m about to fuck you like I don’t.”

[alphabetboyluvr]

LANDSLIDES - 002 | GUILTY AS SIN - JJK

part title credit: guilty as sin - taylor swift

these fatal fantasies giving way to laboured breath... they don't know how you've haunted me so stunningly... without ever touching his skin how can i be guilty as sin?

pairing: officeworker!jungkook x female reader (coworkers)

premise: jungkook asks you to dog sit over chuseok. he doesn’t ask you to steal the empty spaces in his head, the dreams he’s yet to have, nor the idea of you always just being ‘you’ to him - and yet, like a thief in the night (with his own damn dog as your accomplice), you do. (part one link)

warnings: slow burn (emphasis on slow, emphasis on burn), miscommunication, missed opportunities, missing jungkook, inappropriate mentions of masturbation between friends, frustration (sexually and emotionally!)

wordcount: 18K

note from holly: this was supposed to be a 30k chunk but the 1000 paragraph limit told me no </3 so instead, this is part 1 - part 2 will come tomorrow :)

minors dni // cross posted to wattpad

When Jungkook comes to stand by your desk, his freshly pressed suit unspoiled from his morning commute and with a coffee in either hand, you know he must be up to something.

"Let me guess," you hum. "You dipped your nib in the company ink again and need me to do damage control?"

It wouldn't be the first time, and the new secretary has been ogling him ever since she started just before the Chuseok break. You've joked about it a few times, but you really wouldn't put it past him.

Popping your coffee on your desk, Jungkook toys with his tie a little, smoothing it down. "Why do you always think so little of me, you little gremlin?"

His pouty whine would be believable if you didn't know him as well as you do. Glancing up from your screen, you're greeted with a smirk. Even he can't keep up his pretence of innocence. "You know exactly why."

"I'm a good boy," he promises. "Got you coffee and everything this morning!"

"Because you want something," you laugh. "I wasn't born yesterday, Jungkook."

"Can a friend not get a friend a coffee just because?"

"Yes—but you don't."

In fact, Jungkook normally waits until midday for his first coffee. Treats it like a reward for getting through the morning without any caffeine. He's gone out of his way today—or just ordered coffee to the office to make it look like he has. Regardless, an effort has been made.

He takes a second. Purses his lips. Narrows his eyes.And then he smiles. "Fine. I need a favour."

"See, I knew it was too good to be true!"

"Oh, c'mon!" He laughs. "I'd get you coffee if you asked."

"I asked last week when I was running late, and you told me to wake up earlier and get it myself!"

"Well, it was your own fault for being out until arse o'clock in the morning!"

Your fault, you think but don't vocalise. It's not like you'd been out with him. You'd been on a date. Another with Mingyu. Hadn't stuck to your word of cooling things off. Spooked yourself with those dreams about Jungkook. Needed to bring yourself back to reality.

If he hadn't asked you to dogsit, you never would have gotten so caught in the domestication of it all. It's your biggest weakness and he damn well knows it. If anything, he should be thanking you for choosing to realign your focus instead of leaning into silly little thoughts about him. It also helps that in the cold, harsh light of Monday mornings, the thoughts just make you cringe more than anything.

"Sorry, Dad," you roll your eyes. "Didn't realise I had to ask your permission."

Jungkook's lips purse in the gentlest of ways, corners upturning ever so slightly. He shakes his head. "You're cranky this morning."

"And you're up to something," you reply. Have barely even had a chance to look over your weekend emails yet, let alone prepare yourself for Jungkook being a nuisance. His department is two floors up. There's no need for him to be here.

In the corner of your screen, an email pings through. Though your glance is quick, it connects a flurry of dots together.

Subject: International Food Expo - we're in!

The company you work at is the head office of a chain restaurant. Jungkook works in franchising—negotiations, specifically. Gets the restaurant placed in the best locations. Recently landed a spot in Starfield Mall. Got himself a nice little bonus.

You're over in the interior design team. It's a small cohort, just three of you, but you're responsible for ensuring cohesion amongst all the spaces. It's up to you that customers get the same feel whether they're in Seoul or Sokcho.

Both starting the job at the same time, directly after graduation, Jungkook had approached you with a strategy in mind. Roped you into creating the interior mood boards and mapping out the spaces before they'd even been acquired. Gave life to them that made it so much easier for investors to imagine.

It had been seen by management as a waste of resources before then—why waste time creating hypotheticals?

They just hadn't yet experienced Jungkook, and all of his charm, pitching for them, using your content to tip negotiations in his favour. It's a partnership that works. Is a practice now adopted by the company across the board, thanks to the pair of you. It's why you work together so often, even if you're on completely different floors and dealing with such vastly different tasks.

"I've been asked to go along," he says, nodding towards the screen. "Little old me is our brand ambassador for the week."

"Congrats," you beam, knowing that Jungkook is the best man for the job. He loves the company. Really believes in the restaurant. Clicking into the email, you scan the details. "A week of schmoozing, huh? However will you cope?"

He's about to joke about how tiresome it'll be, but then you hum in confusion.

"Jeju?" You question, looking at the location. You scroll, just to check you aren't imagining things—but there it is, clear as day. Location: International Conference Center, Jeju. "All the way in bloody Jeju?!"

"It's for international markets," he says, putting his best guess out there. "Seoul's been done a hundred times over for different Expos. Busan, too. I think they're trying to attract more foreign companies—and would the CEO's rather send themselves on city breaks or island getaways? Anyway, that's actually the favour I wanted to ask you..."

It all sort of clicks into place, now. "Bam?"

With a sweet nod, Jungkook offers a gentle smile. "You know there's no one I'd rather look after him. The trip is four days, Tuesday to Friday. If it's too much, I can book him into a kennel, but—"

"No," you shake your head. "Don't do that. You know I'm happy to look after him."

"Sure?"

Jungkook would rather die than leave Bam at a Kennel for the week. He doesn't trust anyone with his baby unless they've proved themselves, but the way you happily cuddle up with Bam on the floor of Jungkook's apartment on any given day of the week is proof enough to him that you love him, too.

If he's gonna trust anyone with his most prized possession, it'd be you.

"One condition," you bargain, 'cause you know that you can. Jungkook'll do anything to have you agree.

"Go on..."

"Have you replaced all the cheese I ate last time I looked after him?"

He narrows his eyes. "Yes."

"Good," you beam. "And could you be a babe and make me some of your pad kee mao? The sauce at least? I can do the rest."

If there's one thing Jungkook will never fail to impress you with, it's his cooking—but your favourite of all of his dishes is his Thai drunken chicken noodles. He imports the special basil needed for it. Goes an extra mile to make sure it's just right. You haven't been to your favourite Thai place since you learned just how well he makes the dish. Will just send him a text when you fancy it, and end up at his place an hour or so later with beers from the convenience store and ice cream sandwiches to chuck in his freezer for dessert.

"That it?" He laughs. "Cheese and noodles? God, you are easily pleased."

"I'm a woman of refined tastes," you say, pompously poised.

Jungkook knows you well enough to know you're no such thing, but he needs this favour, so he doesn't bite. Just says, "And you're sure?"

"I'm sure," you promise. "Now leave me alone. I've got work to do—and thanks for the coffee."

He nods, that little smile of his affecting you far more than it really should. You can't help it. The lighting in your office is far nicer than the rest of the establishment. Makes him look... well, makes him look like himself. Like 'home' Jungkook. The same one who hangs out with you in sweats and messy hair on Sunday mornings, not the suited and clean-shaven Jungkook who swaggers through the corridors of your workplace.

Three of you work in your specific office, and you're all interior designers. Changing the bulbs was one of the first things you did. Lea, your manager, is the most senior in your team. Below you is Jiwon. A fresh graduate, she's still learning the ropes, and as much as you like her, you really wish she wouldn't go all heart-eyed over Jungkook every time he enters the room.

It's not her fault. The warm bulbs just bring out all of those terrible, intrusive little stars in his chocolatey brown eyes. They're terrible, 'cause they're stolen from other people; intrusive, 'cause as he walks away and your gaze follows him, it seems like they've landed in your eyes, too. A secret shared that neither of you even realises exists.

"How do you do it?" Jiwon sighs once Jungkook is out of earshot. "I'd melt if he looked at me like that."

"He looks at everyone like that," you deflect. "And trust me, he's just as disgusting as he is charming. Don't let the tailored suits fool you."

It's been a little while since Jungkook last used the copier room for indecent affairs that would have gotten anyone else into a meeting with HR. Workplace violations are far easier to get away with when you're doing them with someone from the HR department, after all.

Jiwon joined the team just as Jungkook was curbing his bad behaviour. Granted, you know about more of it than most, but everyone who was lucky enough to grab his attention for more than five seconds used it as bragging rights for months.

One thing that you did enjoy about Jungkook's slut era was the lack of women he ever took home. Didn't want to introduce new people to Bam, if they were only going to be fleeting endeavours.

But you're his friend, not a casual fuck. He knew that bringing you into the fold wouldn't be fast nor fleeting. It'd be a lifetime kinda thing.

Which is what makes you feel so guilty as you stand by the water cooler a little later that morning, daydreaming about being back in his space again. Silly little thoughts about facetime calls when you were wrapped up in his sheets, and he was back at his parents' place in Busan. Memories of lazing the days away with Bam, and the look on Jungkook's face as he finally arrived home after a few days away.

You've seen him at home a million times over, but there was something different about him then. Serene. At peace. You know that he was probably just happy to be back with his baby, and tired from driving, but the lazy smile that had hung off his lips, round glasses framing his equally round eyes, just seemed... new.

Your thoughts are cut off by your boss—not Lea, but your actual boss, Mr Seo—calling you into his office. A little flustered, you realise that you've been running the water for too long. Your bottle has overfilled, and the excess tray is almost full, too.

"Hi," you greet him all rather pleasantly, waiting to be told to sit before you actually do so. "What can I help you with?"

A burly man in his late 50s, he built the brand from the ground up. It's been his life's work, and so he's selective with his staff. If you aren't pulling your weight to make the company a success, then he doesn't want you tying your name to it.

When you and Jungkook started going rogue in the early days, he hadn't been happy—but Jungkook had blagged a probation extension for the pair of you. Had told Mr Seo he'd work for free, if he could just prove his strategy would work.

In the version of events Jungkook tells you, he pretends that Mr Seo agreed without docking his pay. Filed away in the back of his cabinet which houses his contracts, past and present, Jungkook has a written agreement with Mr Seo, and a month's worth of missing wages in his salary from that year.

Your pay was never docked, though. Jungkook's a damn good negotiator, and was just as competent back then, too. He was the one that got you into that damn mess in the first place, so it was only fair that he keep you as clean as he could.

What you do know is that you both cut it incredibly fine to losing your jobs before they ever really began. While Mr Seo respects you both for what you've done for the company since then, it still scares you a little bit.

"I trust you've seen the email regarding the Expo, yes?" He says, nodding towards the chair on the opposite side of his desk.

You take it in a hurried fashion, quickly sitting down because, quite frankly, it feels like your legs are jelly. "Yes, yes. Very exciting! I'm sure Jungkook will bring the company great results."

He nods. Agrees. "And I also trust you've been making plans for our stand?"

You learned of the expo approximately fifty minutes prior. Like fuck have you made any plans.

"Oh, of course!" You bullshit. "As long as we can work out the logistics with shipping our materials to the island in time, it should be brilliant."

How the fuck you're supposed to plan a stand at an Expo for a week's time on a different bloody island is beyond you.

You'll get it done. You always do. You'll just be incredibly stressed about it until the event begins.

"Naturally," he nods. I know the turnaround is tight, so we'd like you to go with Jungkook to oversee the preparations. He arrives on Tuesday, but the event doesn't start until Wednesday evening, so you'll have a day to finalise things."

"Oh," you say, unable to hide your surprise.

"Flight and accommodation will be covered by us, and Jungkook's getting a healthy bonus for any deals signed at the Expo—I'm sure we can make a cut for you, too. After all, you two are our very own dream team."

You take a moment to gather your thoughts. You want to go. Of course you want to. A trip to Jeju with one of your closest friends? Under the guise of work? All expenses paid? Who wouldn't want to go?!

But without you in the city, there's no one to look after Bam. Sure, Jungkook could take him to a kennel, but you know what he's like. He'll spend the entire time stressed. Won't be able to relax and engage with people in such a way that deals will be cut. Punters usually like him for his carefree nature. Without it? Well, you're sure they'd like him all the same, but you don't want to tempt fate.

"Mr Seo," you awkwardly begin, uncertain which answer will slip out of your mouth. "I'm afraid I already have commitments in the city that I can't cancel. I'm not available."

Silence lingers for a moment. Just a second. It feels like an eternity.

"Very well," he accepts.

"I'm sorry," you quickly apologise, knowing that you probably look like an ungrateful employee. If there's one thing you are, it's a fixer, and so before you can even comprehend what you're saying, you're throwing solutions into the void. "But I know Jiwon is just itching to get more involved with different sides of the business. I can get her on board with my planning this week and coach her on Jungkook's strategies. I'm sure she'd be eager to work hard, if she were given the opportunity."

Mr Seo mulls over your proposition—one of you which you already regret—then nods. "Alright. I'll trust your judgement. Can you send her down to my office?"

"Sure!" You say with a little too much glee, before you retreat back to your office with your tail between your legs. Lea is at a meeting, so once Jiwon has been sent on her way, it's just you, your water bottle, and a whole lot of regret.

Laying your head on your desk, you let out a little whimper.

It's for the best. For the company, for Jungkook, for you. For the sanctity of your friendship. For your sanity.

A message dinging through on your work chat interrupts your self-pity party. Glancing up, head still on the desk, you see Jungkook's name in the corner of your screen.

Jeon Jungkook, Franchising: oi you little gremlin

Jeon Jungkook, Franchising: i could have booked him into a kennel

"Shut up," you groan at your screen.

Jeon Jungkook, Franchising: it would have been fun :(

Sitting up with a sigh, you poise yourself to send a message back. Find that nothing wants to come out. Your fingers hover above your keyboard with uncertainty. Takes a full minute before you can muster anything up.

Two floors above you, Jungkook is slumped in his desk chair. Has an office of his own, 'cause it's easier for the amount of meetings he has.

In the background of his screen, an email thread with Mr Seo details how Jungkook was the one to ask Mr Seo if you could join him. Explained how it just made sense. Offered part of his bonus package up with it. Said he'd cover the extra expenses if necessary, but that he thought it would be beneficial to the company to have you there, too.

While you're the person Jungkook trusts the most with Bam, you're not the only one. He could always ask Jimin or Taehyung before resorting to a kennel.

As your reply comes through, another email from Mr Seo is delivered, too.

RE: IFE JEJU, Interior Des. Department

Jungkook—

Have spoken with Jiwon. She will accompany you.

Any problems, let me know.

Mr Seo

With a sigh, Jungkook shakes his head. This isn't what he wanted at all.

And when he checks your message, he only frowns even deeper. Unlike you, he's renamed your contact details on his list. Everyone else still has their work-focused username.

Gremlin: It's your lucky day

Gremlin: You get a hot young thing to keep you company instead, wooo

Gremlin: HR if you're reading this, ignore it

Gremlin: Try not to be too miserable without me

He sinks down a little further into his chair. Purses his lips. Would far rather be alone than with anyone that isn't you.

Chewing on his bottom lip, he decides that maybe this is for the best. While he does think it would be good for the company, he knows that isn't why he suggested it. He just remembers what happened last time he spent more than a weekend away from you. Is scared it'll happen again.

Or maybe it's the opposite. Maybe he wants it to happen again. Just you and him, away from the confines of life as you know it.

Thing is, you'd have to return home at some point. If anything ever happened between you both, it'd change the very fabric of your friendship. He doesn't want that.

So instead, he decides to reply in the same way he would have done maybe a year or so prior.

Jeon Jungkook, Franchising: She'll fall in love with me

Jeon Jungkook, Franchising: They always do

Jeon Jungkook, Franchising: Don't say I didn't warn you.

In the warm lighting of Jungkook's living room, the main light is off, lamps providing you with just enough clarity to go over the files on his coffee table.

Over by the sink, Jungkook is washing up your plates from dinner, while Bam leans against his legs. Your overnight bag is still by the door, and Jungkook's glasses are in your hair, keeping it out of your eyes. Highlighter in hand, you're picking out key markets for Jungkook to make contact with over in Jeju.

"Avoid Babiyeo," you tell him, switching over to a thin red pen, putting a star next to their name.

"As in the leisure centres?" Jungkook hums, familiar with the company but not well-versed. The soft melody of his playlist carries a tune around you both, keeping your thoughts connected and in sync.

"Mhmm," you say, flicking over to the next paper. "The CEO's son is in legal trouble at the moment. They're keeping it fairly well covered up, but to do that they're making huge expansions they can't afford. Keeping the news positive, things like that. I reckon they'll go bust before the end of the year."

"Shit," Jungkook lets a breathy laugh escape his lips. Had no idea—but you've both got friends working in various industries. Have your arms dipped into numerous grapevines. Drying up the last of his bowls, he turns to face you and is unable to continue on with his words.

He gets it. Understands why domestication is your biggest vice when it comes to feeling things you shouldn't.

"Acorn Limited are also bad news," you add, putting a little star next to their name.

"Yeah?"

Jungkook puts the now-dry bowl on the counter and walks towards where you're sitting on his living room floor. He joins. Sits on the opposite side of the table. Lets Bam clamber over his legs, and encourages him to sit, too.

"Yeah," you nod, then look across at Jungkook. "They're a hot-shot protein company. Are trying to get themselves partnerships with different restaurants. The guy running it is some twat from Singles Inferno. Company'll be done by the next quarter."

"Some of them do alright, y'know. Reality stars are raking it in—"

"He's besties with the Babiyeo CEO's son," you tell him with a knowing smile. "Kept getting pictured together outside clubs. Whatever baby Babiyeo has been up to, I'm willing to bet the acorn guy has been, too."

Jungkook presses his lips together. Accepts your expertise. Nods, then sighs, "You should be coming on the trip. I can't do this without you."

Yes, he can. He's more than capable. Has closed more deals than most people have had hot dinners.

What he means is that he doesn't want to do it without you, but admitting such a thing verges on territory that Jungkook doesn't feel comfortable entering.

In the house he likes to call his mind, he's bolted the door of the annexe. Occasionally, he will sit and stare at the locks. Wonder if maybe he made a mistake locking you—or more specifically, the idea of you—away in there.

But then he watches Bam choose to shuffle around to your side of the coffee table, and watches as he rests his head on your leg. His snout is by your knee, sniffing at your bare skin with his wet nose. There's something familiar about you. Safe. You don't smell like Jungkook, but you still manage to smell like home, in a way.

"Bam would be even more lost without me," you softly say, scratching behind his ear, and it does admittedly give Jungkook a little solace.

"True," Jungkook accepts, then sighs.

It's getting late and he's got to be up early for his flight. Is leaving for his flight at just gone 3AM, so you're staying over. Crashing on the couch, 'cause having a home gym was more important than setting up a spare room. Thankfully you've never known a couch to be so cosy. Have fallen asleep on it a dozen times over, and it's yet to make you ache in the mornings.

It's all very normal, how you set into a routine. He lets you wash up first. Sorts out Bam while you sort out yourself. Doesn't need to, but writes you out a list of feeding times and emergency numbers. Grabs a spare blanket—one Bam hasn't slept on, but by the morning definitely will have—and turns the sofa into something that really does resemble a bed.

"Sure you're gonna be alright out here?" He asks when you come back through.

He ignores the teeny tiny shirt and even tinier shorts you like to call pyjamas. Or at least he does as much as he can. Doesn't mean to look at your ass. Does it regardless. Four times.

"Yeah," you promise, grabbing a bottle of water from his fridge. There are containers full of his speciality noodle sauce and enough cheese to keep you very happy for the next few days. He got an extra block of the one he knows you like the most as a thank you. "Go to bed. Get your beauty sleep, uggers."

"Hey, you need it just as much as I do," he assures you, then tips his head and makes a small click with his tongue. "C'mon, Bammie, bedtime."

The sound of his paws tapping across Jungkook's hardwood floors is ever-so-soothing. It's hard to be in a house with a pet and not inherently feel like home, you think.

"Night night, Bammie," you coo after him. He turns back. Tilts his head, just like his daddy. Trots on over to you for a few more scratches behind his ears. Doesn't leave until you tell him, "Go find your daddy."

Glancing up to Jungkook with a sweet little scrunch of your nose, you hadn't called him that name to take the piss for a change. The scrunch of your nose is actually an outward display of your inward cringe. Jungkook just scrunches his up right back.

"Gross," he whispers, then holds his hand out for Bam to sniff. "Night, Gremlin."

"Night, Kook."

The sharp sound of Bam's bark snaps you awake. The room is dark, but enough light bleeds in through the blinds for you to see Jungkook awkwardly trying to shush him. Rucksack slung over one shoulder, he's holding a bag with his other hand.

"Leaving without saying bye?" You sleepily mumble, rubbing at your eyes with a yawn.

"Didn't wanna wake you," he whispers. Bam, apparently, had different ideas. "He knows I'm leaving."

"What time is it?" you ask, still totally out of it.

"Just gone three," Jungkook says. It'll take him an hour to get across to Incheon, and even though he knows it won't take him much time to get through security, he still likes to be on time. Would have been easier if he was flying from Gimpo, but he's guessing Incheon must have been cheaper.

Nodding, you adjust your body to sit up, and reach out for one of the files on the coffee table. Hold it across for him.

Popping down his bags, Jungkook takes it with great interest.

"Here. I was having a think before bed. Did a little research on an American company that's gonna be at the Expo. Their head marketer has shares in a bunch of baseball-related companies. Get pally with him," you mumble, thoughts not really cognitive, but you've written it all down for him regardless. "Talk to him about the K-league, or something, I dunno. I reckon Mr Seo would shit his pants if we expanded into stadiums and sports venues."

Jungkook flicks over the notes. Nods. Doesn't know how the fuck you manage to find out half the shit you do, but knows you're wasted on the interior design department.

"See," he softly whines. "This is why you should be coming with me."

"You'll be fine," you promise him, then yawn a little bit all over again. You woke up at the worst possible time.

"You can take my bed, y'know," Jungkook offers. "I'll be gone in a minute or so. It's all yours."

Would be weird getting into his bed while it's still warm, you think.

Shaking your head, terribly covering a yawn, you insist it's fine. He begs to differ, so you double down—until all very suddenly, your notes are tossed onto the sofa beside you, and Jungkook is pulling you over his shoulder. Yelping from the surprise, you don't have time to cognitively respond, let alone demand to be put down.

He wouldn't listen anyways. Instead, he walks you across to his room, and tosses you down on his half-made bed. It's a little haphazard, he finds himself leaning a little too far forward. Almost ends up on there with you. Finds that his blood pumps just a little faster through his veins for a nanosecond.

God, he wishes he wasn't leaving.

Or that you were coming with him, at least.

Can't bear to tear himself away from you when you're all sleepy and sweet and—Oh get a grip, man.

"There," he says triumphantly, pushing his thoughts well out of reach. "Now, go back to sleep, alright? I'll let you know when I fly."

Sitting up on your heels, you find yourself unsure of how to say goodbye—and so you don't really say much at all. Just mumble, "Fly safe."

"Will do," he nods, then exits his room to give Bam a farewell that is just as rough and tumble as yours had been. "Be good for the gremlin, Bammie."

"Fuck off!" You call through, knowing that you'll forever be known as a gremlin, even on your deathbed, you're sure. Tucking yourself under his duvet, you're secretly comforted by how warm his bed still is. Smells just like him, too. "Bye Kook."

"Sleep tight!"

With that, the door slams shut, and everything feels a little colder. Bam whines by the door. Scratches at it a little. Begs for Jungkook to come home.

"Bammie," you call through. "C'mere!"

The way he excitedly bounds through Jungkook's apartment and jumps up onto the bed is borderline comical. He's not used to people being in the house after Jungkook goes out. Thought he was alone—but now he knows he's not, he's quite content. Nuzzles his snout into the duvet and flops his body down on yours. Doesn't realise he's not still a puppy, but you don't mind.

Moments like these make you realise that you definitely did make the right decision.

But moments that come a little later fill you with regret—like the picture that is sent to the office by Jungkook on the work messenger. Working hard or hardly working? He captions it.

The photo is of the booth that's been set up to look like a beach house version of the restaurant. The intention was for it to look like a 'Jeju' branch, of which you're yet to open— but it looks bloody fantastic. How you were able to wrangle contractors and suppliers in such a last-minute rush was nothing short of a miracle.

And yet—

Good work guys!

Wow, looks great!

Jungkook and Jiwon, doing us proud!

Dream team! Good luck!

It's that last one that really bothers you. Dream team. Exactly what you and Jungkook have always been called in the office—but you're easily replaced, apparently. It's your own fault. You're the one who said she should go instead.

It doesn't stop you from walking around with a face of thunder for the whole day. Not a scrap of work gets done. All you can do is lament your choices.

Still, you get to go home to Bam, and that does admittedly soften the blow.

"Show me him," Jungkook immediately whines when he calls later that evening.

You shake your head. "Tell me about the day first."

"That's so not fair."

"Quicker you tell me, quicker I show–"

"Fine," he scowls at you, but softens his expression almost immediately. Yawns. His shoulders press up to his ears as the rest of his face scrunches up. He's lying down on his hotel bed, the crisp white sheets not too dissimilar from his ones back home that you'll be curled up in later that night. "The set up was fine. Most of the vendors are here already. I'm so mad we didn't manage to snag a slot in the catering tent, yanno? Give people a chance to try our menu, but whatever. There's always next year, right?"

"Right," you nod. Yawn, too—and then adorably so does Bam. "It's our first year there. We're just making our presence known. Bigger and better things next year."

"Exactly. Now show me Bam."

His impatience makes you smile. You're just about to tap the switch camera icon, when a sweet, feminine voice echoes through your speaker.

"Did you say something, Jungkook?"

He glances over the sound of the voice, and then flicks his eyes back to you. Gets a read on your face as quickly as he can before you flip the camera, 'cause you're not really sure how much your face is giving away, but you know your surprise wasn't hidden.

"Er, no," he says to the girl. "Just checking in back home—"

"Oh, is that your puppy?" the voice, of which you know all too well, squeals. There's a slight ruffle of sheets as Jiwon tucks herself beside Jungkook. Hair a little damp, the straps of her top are loose against her skin. "Oh my gosh, isn't he the sweetest."

"Isn't he just?" you reply with a smile so fucking fake that it's a good job the camera isn't on you. There's a look on Jungkook's face that you don't really understand. He almost looks guilty—but there's nothing to feel guilty about. He can do what he likes. "Gonna take him for a walk in a bit, then I'm just gonna pop out for half an hour to see Mingyu."

"Are you taking Bam with you?" Jungkook asks, brows a little hard, the ridge between them nicely defined.

"Hadn't planned on it," you chirp, your face just as hard as his. "But I can take him to meet Mingyu, if you like?"

Jungkook swallows. Tries to pretend as if his jaw isn't tense. Is incredibly stern when he says, "Rather him not meet new people when I'm not around."

"Sure," you say, then flick the camera back to you. Are pleased to see nonchalance sitting prettily on your features, no matter how perplexed you might feel."I should be off, though! Call me if you need anything."

"Wait!" Jiwon says quickly, clearly unaware of the weirdness between you and Jungkook. She sees you bickering all the time, so must just figure this is what you're like when you're not ripping each other's heads off. "Just wanted to say thank you—I'm so glad I'm here."

Jungkook's eyes focus on your face as Jiwon gives even more thanks. He doesn't understand the sudden attitude you've developed. All he wanted was to see Bam, but you've a face like a slapped arsed and are trying to hang up. It's fuckin' rude, and if Jiwon wasn't there, he'd tell you so.

He lets you hang up. Doesn't ask you to stay.

"She alright?" Jiwon innocent chirps after you go. "She seems a little..."

"Just tired," Jungkook dismisses. "I woke her up at like, three this morning when I was leaving."

"Oh? She was at your place?"

It's really none of Jiwon's business, but Jungkook chalks it up to her being young, and unaware of when to keep her mouth shut.

"Yeah," he states definitively and plainly, ending the conversation. Heads to the bathroom to clear his head. Turns the shower up to just as hot as the one at his house has been ever since you left his apartment the last time.

'Cause Jungkook's been lying to himself.

There's no lock on the damn annexe. Or at least not from the outside.

The annexe has everything he needs. He's been sitting there, inside, quite comfortably with you for a little while now.

He really did think you were gonna call things off with Mingyu.

Is unaware that Mingyu got left on read four days ago after another dull, fruitless 'how was your day', 'fine thanks, and you?' conversation. As hot as he may be, he doesn't challenge you. Excite you. Anger you. Make you feel any kind of passion.

Which is funny, 'cause you find yourself reaching for a bottle of wine that you know is far too expensive for a Tuesday night glass, just to piss Jungkook off from afar and well in advance of him ever realising what you've done.

Just like you mentioned going to see Mingyu just to get a reaction out of Jungkook.

Childish as it may be, you feel threatened. People praising Jiwon in your place already made you feel insecure at work, and now she's in his hotel room in a state of near undress? Something about it just irks you.

It shouldn't.

It shouldn't, it shouldn't, it shouldn't.

But it does.

And so you spend your evening on Jungkook's couch with cheese, wine and Bam. Put Love, Rosie on, 'cause it's your favourite guilty pleasure film and you think it'll cheer you up.

Instead, you end up silently sobbing by the halfway point, Bam only snuggling into you even further. Can understand that you're upset. Comforts in the only way he knows how.

Sleep is hard to come by that evening. You're full of wine and cheese, so it should be easy. Lights out as soon as you close your eyes—but you toss and turn, and with every move, the scent of him wafts even deeper into your senses. Any further and it might just enter your bloodstream. Seep down into your heart.

By the time morning comes, you feel even more rotten than you did the night before. Have slept on it all. Know that he hasn't done anything wrong, which only makes you feel even more stupid for being so annoyed.

You've also slept on the idea he might have slept with Jiwon. It wouldn't be out of character, but it would be the first person in your department he's shagged. It's always been out of bounds. He knows this. For the same reason you wouldn't shag anyone he works closely with. It'd just be weird. Make meetings uncomfortable.

When you call on your walk that morning, you half hope he won't pick up.

But he does. He always will.

"Hey," he says a little breathlessly. A towel is whipped over his shoulder, sweat dappling his skin. There's something so devastatingly beautiful about mid-workout Jungkook. "Sorry, didn't think you'd call."

Almost as if you're looking for reasons to be annoyed, you take offence to this.

"I always call?"

"Well, yeah, but you were so fuckin' weird last night," he laughs, heading out of the gym and into an empty corridor of the hotel.

"I wasn't anything," you reply back with a scowl—and realise how terribly you're hiding your annoyance. Flick the camera over so it focuses on Bam as he trots along the path. "Just tired."

It's the same excuse he bullshitted to Jiwon. Knows you're talking bollocks.

"Even Jiwon asked what was wrong with you—"

"Oh, well I'm terribly sorry to have inconvenienced you, Jungkook," you snap, completely unjustified. It's too late, though. You've started. Have to see it through. "But if you don't mind, I'm responsible for your pet right now and I'd rather not be having this conversation when I need to be focusing on a million other things at once."

"Fine," Jungkook snaps right back. All he wants is to see Bam, but he doesn't want to be having this conversation either. "But you know what? Don't bother calling back until you've taken that stick out from up your arse."

You shouldn't be surprised when Jungkook hangs up.

But you are.

For the second time in as many days, you find yourself crying. 

Oh, it's all so pathetic! And stupid! There's no need for it, you think.

Thankfully you're not too far from home—Jungkook's home, that is—so you can cut the walk a little short as long as you come home at lunch to check on Bam, too.

You don't even really understand why you're fighting with him. Wish you weren't.

When Jungkook zips open his suit bag as he's getting ready for the Expo opening ceremony, he finds himself wishing just the same.

Tucked on top of his blazer is a brand new tie; one of which he most definitely did not put there. 

An incredibly muted bronze and black paisley pattern swirls over the material, and on top rests a note.

Jungkook rubs his face with a flat palm. Rakes it through his hair. Swallows back the awkward heat prickling at his eyes and the tickle in his throat. Doesn't wanna bawl.

But then he reads the note, and he just can't stop himself.

Dad!!!

You're gonna do great!!!!

Come home soon tho :(((((

Woof woof!!!!!!!

Your Bammie <333

P.S. I'm colour blind but the gremlin said this one is the same colour as me!!! Do you miss me??? I miss you!!!!!

The first time you had ever learned of Jungkook's tattoos was in a dive bar a few blocks over from work. It was just after you'd pulled off your first deal together—the one that set your working relationship in stone—and you'd both been blowing off steam.

The walls were red, and so were your cheeks, blushed from the heat of what it felt like to sit beside him in a tatty booth.

So used to sitting across from him at meeting tables, something about it changed your dynamic. Any threats of being on opposing teams were whittled down to nothing more than a life that could have been.

He had your back. You had his.

Blazer off, his sleeves were rolled up. You didn't ask him about a single one of the tattoos, like he half thought you might. 

Instead, you just accepted him as he was. Didn't stroke your index finger up his arm, tracing the lines, like most girls do as an excuse to get better acquainted with him.

That night he made a promise to himself to never ruin the working relationship you have together.

You work too well to jeopardise it. He has goals. Knew, even back then, that you'd help him achieve his aspirations, like some sort of twin flame type of shit he didn't believe in.

Didn't. Past tense.

These days, when you think of Jungkook and his tattoos, you always think of the snake. It's the one you see most frequently for it's so close to his wrist. Have always understood snakes to represent change.

Jungkook is yet to shed his skin. He's still just the same as he always was, you think, as you get in the lift and head up towards your office floor.

Just 'cause he hadn't hooked up with anyone from the office in a while didn't mean that he'd changed his ways. More fool you for thinking that he might've.

And it's not like it even matters at all. Who he lays down with is none of your concern. You've never cared before. Not really.

It's just that you've been going to sleep in his sheets. Eating dinner he prepared in advance for you. Waking up to his pup excitedly doing zoomies around the room, 'cause he's ready for his walk.

When you get home, you put Bam's leash up next to your coat, which is hung on top of Jungkook's. Kick your shoes off by a pair of his. Use his shower gel when you get washed, and wistfully tuck yourself up into the armchair you helped him pick out for his bedroom. It's tucked in the corner. Is perfect for watching the world roll by.

You know you should have just called him this morning. Spent the entire walk stubbornly hoping that he would instead, but he's just as childish as you are.

You've bickered with him a hundred times over since you first met him, but never like this.

The elevator dings to a stop, pulling you from your tiresome thoughts of Jungkook. Pulling your body from its slumped leaning stature against the mirrored walls, you trudge into a place that endlessly reminds you of him.

Impossible to escape, is Jungkook. Perhaps that's it. Maybe you've just had enough of each other. Need a little time to breathe.

Everyone else who started at the company around the same time as you has already left. It's just you and Jungkook still here from the small pool of fresh graduates that had been taken under Mr Seo's wing.

But you like it here. Like your job. The salary you earn is great—far more than you would get anywhere else.

Again, you don't know this, but Jungkook's always negotiated on your behalf behind closed doors. He makes the company far more money, and does admittedly get a pretty huge bonus every year according to the amount of deals closed.

That being said, he also stomps down to Mr Seo's office in the fourth quarter when news of the next fiscal year's raises are shared. Will demand that your base salary is matched to his. Has threatened, on numerous occasions, to call for a pay disparity audit from external forces if your wage isn't boosted up, even if it means his is cut down to make up for it.

You went out on a limb trusting him in the early days. This is how he repays you.

That's just friendship, though, he thinks. You help him, he helps you.

He also knows you'd probably be annoyed if you ever found out he meddled with things like that.

The girls in the accounting office always think it's so lovely whenever they see the pay increases. Yours and Jungkook's are never quite what they should be, and they know exactly why. It's why they always ask you how he is whenever you go to drop off inventory reports and materials lists with the lead accountant.

You think they just fancy the pants off him.

Which is also true.

And it's also why a couple of them are curiously standing outside your office space, giggling like school girls as you approach it.

"Morning," you smile, then laugh a little too at their giddy excitement—but when you turn the corner and realise what they're so smitten over, you're a little lost for words.

Sitting on your desk is quite possibly the largest bouquet of flowers you've ever seen. Peonies, you think from afar. Pretty and pale pink, they're in a glass vase. Two dozen easily, if not more, blooming just for you.

"Oh," you hum, because it's hardly what you expect to walk into on a Thursday morning.

Mingyu flashes through your head, but you haven't heard a peep from him since you last let your conversation dissolve over the weekend. He has no reason to send you flowers.

But nor does anyone else.

"We tried working out the message," one of them admits. "But whoever your secret admirer is, they're hell-bent on keeping it secret!"

Shameless, you think, suppressing a well-natured laugh. They've got balls to admit that they've read the note.

Walking to your desk, you see it sitting atop of the flowers, and read it for yourself.

Anyone reading the note who knows a single non-superficial thing about the mystery sender would know who it is in a heartbeat. All it takes for you to know is to see the name of who it's addressed to.

Bammie—

She's right. It does match you. When I get home we can dress you up in my new tie.

Tell the gremlin that you deserve head scratches.

And extra treats.

And that I miss her.

Glancing over to the girls, who desperately want gossip, you simply shrug. If they've never heard Jungkook talk about Bam before, then they clearly don't know him at all. If he wanted his name on the note, he'd have put it there.

He could have gotten them sent to his apartment. He chose here. But he also chose anonymity.

And so you give him a little grace.

"Your guess is as good as mine," you bullshit with an apologetic smile that no one believes.

Lea just looks at you from across the room with a raised brow. Waits until the girls leave, then says, "That's not the kind of bouquet you send a colleague."

She already knows you're looking after Bam. That being said, she hasn't read the card. Has no idea what it says. Just knows that there's only one man you ever talk about with such warmth to be deserving of those flowers from.

"Apparently it is," you shrug, all but confirming who sent them with a coy smile.

"I hope he lets Jiwon down gently," Lea sighs, knowing just as well as you do that she's got a bit of a thing for Jungkook.

What she doesn't know is that it's the exact reason you're fighting with him.

Hell, even he doesn't know that!

So deep in your denial, neither do you.

"Why would he need to?" You downplay it all. Lea doesn't know about the awkward call Jiwon inserted herself into, or the fact you've already decided that he must have fucked her. "Like I said, apparently these are the kind of flowers sent by just a colleague."

Lea shakes her head. Has been observing you and Jungkook for years. Was waiting for a Christmas party, or one of those nightmarish summer tennis tournaments for the pair of you to finally figure it out. You're just as thick as two wooden planks when it comes to all of this, or so it would seem. A little push might be needed.

"Colleagues don't send flowers just because," she tells you with an air of authority. "And if I know anything about the stories you've told me, Jungkook doesn't send flowers full stop."

Just like that, you're thinking of those damn tattoos again. The snake, specifically.

Maybe, just maybe, he is changing.

And if you weren't confused before, then you sure as hell are now.

During the summer months, Jungkook often goes home to see Bam at lunchtime. It's not uncommon for you to go with him. In the winter, when the temperature of his apartment is less of a worry, Jungkook probably only goes home for lunch once a week or so.

Walking up to Jungkook's apartment in the middle of the day without him feels a little bit wrong. In one hand, you're holding a peony by its stem. In the other, you're clutching your phone just in case he calls.

In all honesty, you had planned on taking the entire vase back, but it was bloody heavy. You'll wait until he's back in the office.

It might just be paranoia, or the misplaced assumption that everyone is obsessed with what Jungkook does, but you swear there have been far more people passing your office today than usual. People you've seen maybe once or twice in your entire lifetime.

Lea was right. Jungkook doesn't send flowers. 

Has a repeat order going monthly for his mother, but that's it. And even then, he's kind of forgotten about it.

You've debated it with him before; flowers and their presence in relationships. 

He thinks a potted plant would be far more practical, but if he was really going to get someone something, it'd be herbs. Maybe a potted mint bush. Something useful that they could enjoy together.

A few weeks ago, you had told him he'd make an awful sugar daddy.

"Well, yeah!" He'd just laughed. "I save my money for myself. Me alone. If someone wants nice shit, they can get their own job."

"Oh, so you'd never treat a girlfriend?" You'd scoffed, forgetting the fact he never really has girlfriends. Just flings. "Never get her nice shit?"

"Well, that's different," he'd said. "It's not transactional."

"Everything in life is transactional, whether people like to kid themselves it is or not."

Jungkook looked affronted when you said this. You'd had differing perceptions of life for as long as he'd known you, but you'd always been a romantic. Always believed in the prevailing nature of love.

Bam had adjusted in his sleepy position. Curled up a little tighter, then stretched right out. Rested his hind paws on your thighs and tucked his nose into his chest.

"Bam disagrees," Jungkook assured you.

"You trained him using transactions," you reminded him regardless. "Rewarded him with a treat every time he did as you asked. Transactional."

"Okay, but this?" He gestured to where Bam was curled between the pair of you on his sofa. That's always been a rule of his. No sofa for Bam—he's got all the beds he could ever want! But when Jungkook is on the sofa, it's the only place he wants to be, too. "He knows he's not supposed to be on here. He knows he won't get a reward, so why is he up here? It isn't transactional. He just—"

"Is playing you for a fool," you had laughed. "He wants to be on the sofa, so he lets us pet him in return for us not shooing him off. He's the one setting the transaction up. You're the one getting the reward. He's playing you at your own game. Aren't you, baby?"

You'd cooed a little, scratching at Bam's thigh. He shook it ever so gently and readjusted, but didn't stop resting against you.

It was a curious thought; the way that nothing in life ever comes for free. Even the favours you do for Jungkook by dog-sitting are transactional. You get just as much out of those days as he does.

The conversation had mellowed into something else, 'cause Jungkook didn't want to get into a debate. Knows that you can defend your point until the cows come home—has been in enough meetings with you to know as such. Likes being on your side 'cause you always win—and with a negotiator like him to seal the deal, it's always so much sweeter.

As the calling screen of Jungkook's contact details takes over your screen, phone resting against a wine bottle on the coffee table, you wonder how transactional this is.

He gave you flowers, and now you're giving him a call.

Anyone with a rational mind would surely ask: is this not how romance works?

But when he accepts your call, and you're met with a stern face that's desperately trying not to smile, you're reminded of what he really is: your best friend.

Neither of you wants to be the first one who cracks and gives in first, even if you both know this is all so stupid.

You reach over to pick up the peony. Hold it in front of your face. The petals have bloomed so spectacularly that it almost eclipses you.

Jungkook's face scrunches up a little, his terribly hidden smile slightly distorted but ever so hard to hide.

"Will you stop hating me now?" Is all he says.

"Never hated you," you grumble, bringing the flower a little lower, but still in frame. Sitting on the floor, your back is to the sofa and Bam is behind you, right where he's not supposed to be.

If Jungkook is bothered by it, he doesn't mention it. "I missed him this morning."

The guilt that crawls into your stomach and makes itself at home is rancid. Anguish is her name, and she loves nothing more than ruining a good thing.

The frown that steals the pretty smile from your face isn't one that Jungkook enjoys seeing on you, no matter how cute it is when your eyebrows pinch together.

"I should have called," you acknowledge, knowing that it was cruel of you not to, even if you were fighting. "I'm sorry."

Jungkook just smiles. "I assumed the stick was still up your arse."

Narrowing your eyes, you're pleased that he's joking with you; that things feel normal.

"It's fine," he dismisses regardless. "Last night was the opening event so I was a little worse for wear this morning, and then Jiwon was rummaging about at fuckin' six in the morning. Took her fuckin' hours to get ready."

And there it is; confirmation that she's been sharing his bed.

Though you don't frown, there's a stupor to the muscles in your face. The brightness you were looking at him with fades—and very quickly, Jungkook becomes the one who looks unhappy, now.

"What?" He says, genuinely a little confused.

It doesn't matter. It doesn't matter. It doesn't matter.

You just shake your head. Dismiss it. Flick the camera around and lift your phone to focus it on Bam as you give him a little scratch behind the ear.

"He's been good as gold," you begin to waffle on. The ridge between Jungkook's brows deepens. "Best boy in the doggie park, aren't you? There's a new couple who have just started walking a Yorkie. Yappy little bugger. I don't think Bam's a fan."

"No," Jungkook supposes. "He doesn't like yappy dogs—and I don't like it when you deflect. Show me your face, gremlin. What's going on?"

"Nothing!" You insist, but don't flick the camera back. Just get a little more boisterous with Bam, and while it does make Jungkook smile, he can't shake the horrible feeling that's building in his diaphragm.

Your Anguish has a cousin who goes by the name of Confusion, and she adores wrapping herself up in men who fail to communicate in a way that is healthy.

"C'mon," he softly says. Flicks his camera around. Shows you an empty hallway of the convention centre. Says, "I've left Jiwon in charge at the height of the day just so I can answer your call. Talk to me. What's wrong?"

"You didn't have to answer," you grumble.

Jungkook is smarter than most. Will have clocked the time of day and knew it was lunch. Definitely assumed you must be with Bam. It must be why he picked up.

Flicking the camera back on himself, Jungkook is almost at a loss for what else he can say to get you to open up.

A little honesty is needed.

And so you pout. Mumble, "They're calling you and Jiwon a dream team in the office."

Jungkook's frown intensifies as his dewy pink lips rest ajar. You'd say he looks distressed, but that's far too intense of an emotion for such a childish qualm.

He just knows that if he heard your partnership with another colleague—especially one in his department—being referred to like that, he'd take offence. It's you and him. You're the dream team. Always have been.

Shaking his head, Jungkook doesn't hide his contempt. Scoffs. "Fuck off. Dream team? She's using your strategies at a booth you designed, and even then, she's barely doing that—you know Acorn guy? The one you said to steer clear of? She's gunning for him—"

"Oh, you're kidding me," you gasp in disbelief. You warned her that he's bad news, multiple times. "Him?!"

"She's young," Jungkook says with a little judgement. Is scared of turning thirty, but definitely doesn't understand people who are closer to twenty. "He's just some hot guy on TV, to her. Doesn't realise his business is gonna tank. She isn't thinking about it long-term."

Which is funny, 'cause Jungkook never really used to think about things long term, either.

Sure, with investments and saving his money, he's always been a little cautious. When it comes to the business, though, it's someone else's money he's playing with. He takes risks. Does dumb shit and it gets rewards.

He really is incredibly good at his job, though. It's part of the reason the women love him, you always think.

It's not.

They like him because he's kind and also so bloody hot he should be on billboards, not in boardrooms.

You like him because he's competent.

In fact, you think there's nothing hotter than a competent man who just knows how to get shit done. And when said competent man can cook like Jungkook? Cares for his dog in the way he does? Looks like he does?

Sigh.

You ignore the way he looks a lot of the time, but you've a pair of eyes and a part of your brain that recognises attractive men. It's hard to ignore all of the time.

"Anyway," he shakes his head. "Not important. She's perfectly fine if not a little misguided—but she isn't you. So, stop worrying about it."

You take a second before you reply. Flick the camera back to you.

It surprises Jungkook, how Confusion has travelled through his bloodstream. Her bony fingers toy with his heart, and he's taken aback by just how sharp her nails are.

Looking at you never used to feel like this. He's not sure why it does now.

You muster up a little courage, even if you can't bring yourself to look at him properly. Let out a deep sigh. Now or never. You run the risk of causing another fight, but if you don't come clean, it'll only dirty everything.

"I just thought we kind of had an agreement, Kook," you eventually whine with an ever-so childish pout.

The hands that have been tearing at his heart migrate through his bloodstream. Get into his brain. Get into his house. Opens doors. Begins moving the furniture.

Stay out of the annexe, his thoughts hiss at Confusion.

Still he seems perfectly calm when he asks, "Watcha mean?"

He's not making this easy for you.

In fact, you'd say he's making it difficult. It would be far easier for you if he just acknowledged what he's already done.

"Well, just..." you take a moment or so to think about how it can be phrased with any dignity—and then you think fuck it. "She's in my department, Kook. I always thought you wouldn't fuck anyone I have to directly work with. It just makes it awkwa—"

"Woah, woah woah," he interrupts. Confusion sits on his shoulder, now, with a twisted smirk on her greyed-out face. "Wouldn't fuck anyone? What the hell do you think I've been doing?!"

"Well, I mean, it's less what and more... who," you joke a little too flippantly.

You don't think he's ever looked so offended in the entire time you've known him.

"You've got to be kidding me."

If anything, you're a bit surprised by just how offended he is. Jiwon is an incredibly pretty girl. A little young for him, granted, but not abhorrently so.

"What?!" You reply, equally confused, then relay everything back to him. "She woke you up this morning getting ready? Was in your room when I called you? Fucking got on your bed right in front of my face and cosied up with you to look at Bam."

Admittedly, that last one was said with a little venom. It annoys you the most.

"She woke me up this morning from across the room," he counters. "Was in our room because we were a last-minute addition to the convention, and it was the only room left within a ten-mile radius—twin beds, may I add! If I don't even share my bed with you when I'm at home, then what the hell makes you think I'd share one with her?! Yeah, the call thing was weird. I'm not gonna lie, it was, but I answered when she was around because I didn't want either of you to get the wrong impression."

A smile wobbles on your lips, as you try to remain stoic. Either of you. You know that you apparently got the wrong end of the stick—but you're not entirely sure what he means by either of you. You wonder what impression he's trying to give her, then decide it's not important.

You clasp your hands together. Lean forward. Put on your best noble old man voice, and say, "Well, it appears that it might have just happened, regardless."

Confusion's perch on Jungkook's shoulder is knocked loose when he laughs, though those sharp nails do claw onto his back. Leave scratch marks that will take a little while to heal—what's important is that they will.

One day, this awkward misstep will be something you laugh about. Kind of like he is, now. You'll forget your tears, but you won't ever forget the strange feeling of weight lifting off your shoulders, mind eased by Jungkook.

"You're a fucking idiot," he laughs with such fondness it almost doesn't feel like an insult. "Seriously? You thought I fucked her? And was then, what? Trying to brag about it? C'mon, you little gremlin! Give me some credit."

Never before has 'gremlin' ever sounded so kind. So warm. So much like 'darling', or 'mon amour'. Secret code for unspoken words.

"I don't know," you whine. Bam shuffles a little bit on the sofa behind you, turning his face away from the noise. You reach back to scratch his head as an apology. Jungkook smiles. Your care for his baby is so innate that you don't even realise you're doing it. "Her hair was damp, and she was practically falling out of her top—"

"Oh, but what I am supposed to do?" He laughs. "I can't tell her to cover up in her own damn room, and even then I just ignore it. I didn't sleep with her. I'm not going to sleep with her. Okay?"

He's not even thought about it. Feels nothing when he looks at her. No excitement. Even if she is attractive, he doesn't think his body would work properly.

Hasn't been working as it should do for the best part of a year now.

Or maybe it would better be referred to as 'malfunctioning'.

'Cause it seems to work okay when he thinks about you.

He 'malfunctioned' earlier on that day, as a matter of fact. Was just showering. And he missed you. And was thinking about those damn pyjama shorts. How smooth your legs had been when he'd hoisted you over his shoulder. How pliant you'd been as he chucked you down into his sheets. Your sleepy eyes and the 3AM husk to your voice. Fuck.

Even thinking about it in a dingy hallway of a convention centre, with your pretty face smiling at him through his phone, is making his heart race. If he doesn't get a hold on it, he'll go into cardiac. Might just flatline.

"Look, I gotta get back, okay?" He softly says. It's not a lie, but it is more sensible than he wants to be. "Have to make sure Jiwon hasn't sold the company to the acorn guy. There's a networking event tonight, so I can't call during Bammie's walk, but I'll check in at some point."

"Alright," you nod, a little sad to see him go, but understanding of it. "Hurry up and come home. Bam misses you."

"I miss him, too," Jungkook pouts. "Show me my baby before I go."

Phone angled to fully capture Bam, you indulge Jungkook for a few moments before he really does have to go. He lingers for a second or so after you say goodbye. Can't muster up anything good to say to make you stay.

Holding the stem of the single peony you'd taken home with you, you roll it between your thumb and fingers. Watch the petals twirl.

"What should I do, hey, Bam?" You wistfully sigh, eventually getting up to pop it in a glass of water. Jungkook has no vases, for he's never had any need for flowers.

The peony isn't the only thing blooming in his kitchen these days, though. It hasn't been for a while.

Work passes slowly that afternoon. You want to get home. See Bam. Finish off the wine you opened so that Jungkook doesn't scold you for letting it turn into vinegar when he gets back. And then you wanna sleep—just so you can wake up the next morning and take Bam on his walk.

It's not like that isn't part of your agenda tonight, too. It's just that Jungkook won't be around for that one.

Instead, his evening is spent in fancy rooms with men in even fancier suits and women who take a fancy to him, too. A whisky is in his hands at all times, his pretty lips embroiled in conversation. He talks so much he barely has any time to drink.

People gravitate towards him; those who feel threatened by his charm gravitate towards Jiwon. Mistake her for a prize he's trying to keep. Don't realise his unbothered facade is anything but a facade.

It's gone midnight by the time he's kicking off his shoes with a little wobble as he gets to his hotel room.

"I'm being serious," he almost giggles, phone between his shoulder and his ear as he loosens his cufflinks. "It's a wig. I'm positive."

280 miles away, phone on your tummy, loudspeaker on as you gaze up at Jungkook's bedroom ceiling, you're laughing too.

"It can't be," you protest the current topic of conversation—Mr Acorn (as he's now affectionately known between you both) and whether or not his hair is real. Jungkook had left Jiwon to continue her poorly judged perusal of him, in favour of checking in with you instead. There was no one else at that party he wanted to talk to more than he wanted to talk to you. Laughing and joking about stupid shit, he's glad you answered. "He went swimming on Singles Inferno!"

"So?!" Jungkook snorts, tapping his phone over to loudspeaker too and tossing it down onto his sheets. A little haphazard, he's unbuttoning his shirt. Is a little tipsy, but not enough to warrant any huge issues. "Maybe he used industrial strength glue."

"Surely he'd rather people just know he was bald? Start a trend?"

"Maybe he's got a terrible head tattoo," Jungkook theorises, tossing his shirt across to a chair, before finally discarding his pants, too. Is just in his boxers now as he clambers into the sheets. "Bald eagle. An ex's name. I dunno. But I'd take chemical burns over that."

"You'd never get a girl's name tattooed on you," you laugh in response. Legs tucked up, heels to your ass, you let your knees gently sway. Bam is curled up in his own bed by the foot of Jungkook's. You're not on facetime, mainly 'cause Jungkook clicked the wrong button, but it's also nice not using poor Bam as an excuse to talk to you.

"And I'm also not balding, so we don't have to worry about that."

"Are you not?" You hum, just to wind him up. "I swear there's a patch of missing hair—"

"Shut up," he cuts you off, voice just as fond as it is stern. "I will swim all the way back to the mainland and speed run up to Seoul just to shut you up. Don't speak it into existence. I have great hair."

"Mmm," you hum. Sinking a little further into his sheet, you turn on your side. Take him off speaker. Hold your phone to your ear. Look at the empty side of his bed and wonder what it'd be like if he were here. Know better than to indulge it. "And you are just so modest, too. Absolutely no ego whatsoever."

"It's why the ladies love me," he jokes, not realising just how true it is. Jungkook takes a moment before he says anything else. Is comforted by the silence you leave for him, totally unaware it's because you're not sure how to respond. "Not that it matters."

Though his delivery is soft and airy, like feathers falling from a well established nest, it lands in your chest with a heavy thud, like a stone from a bridge. You couldn't swerve in time. It shattered your windshield; plummeted straight into your heart. 'Causes a pile up on the freeway, all your thoughts held behind a tongue that cannot speak.

"You tired?" Jungkook hums down the speaker when a response never comes. "I'm sorry, I can let you go?"

"No," you say incredibly quickly considering you've been leaving your side of the conversation empty. "No, sorry. Just can't believe you're actually behaving yourself. Who are you, and what have you done with Cassanova that normally takes a hold of you after a few drinks?"

He's right here, Jungkook laments, knowing better than to act on the way he's been feeling lately. Just says, "Maybe I'm maturing."

"I find that hard to believe," you tell him. If the tiktok psychology gurus who have taught you everything you know about modern men are anything to go by, his brain should have finished fully developing about a year ago.

And while Jungkook would tell you to get fucked and that his brain was already fully developed, he knows that if he sat down and really thought about it, maybe it'd hold some merit. Afterall, it's been about a year since those first thoughts about you started creeping into his mind house.

It's only recently that he's been flirting with that damn annexe door, but he's been aware of someone in there for a while, now.

"What?" He smiles down the phone, resting an arm on his bare abdomen, looking up at the dark ceiling of his hotel room. "Maybe I am. Maybe shagging random girls doesn't excite me anymore."

"You're lying."

"Am I?"

"Yes," you insist, but there's a smile on your face.

There's something about his denial you enjoy.

It's why you're arguing against him. You wanna hear him deny it again. Tell you he doesn't care about other girls. You don't necessarily want him to care about you beyond what he already does. Or at least that's what you tell yourself.

"No," he simply replies back. "I'm not."

"So if Jiwon—"

"Why are you bringing her up again?" He's smirking, now. You can hear it in his tone. "Are you jealous?"

"Jealous?!"

"Yeah," He insists, just like you had been earlier. "You don't like the idea of her sleeping with me."

Incorrect. You don't like the idea of him sleeping with her.

"Well, no," you admit. "But because I work with her—"

"That's not it," he fights against you. Knows that you didn't go and see Mingyu when you said you would, and also now knows you said you would after you thought he'd slept with Jiwon. He might not be able to read women's minds, but he's learnt your M.O. pretty well over the years.

"You're drunk," you whisper, trying to hide behind the alcohol that both of you have in your systems. Neither of you are in any position to make sensible choices.

"Tipsy," he corrects. "And so are you. Go on. Be honest. Tell me."

"There's nothing to tell."

"Yeah, there is," he whispers, his words far braver in sentiment than they are in sound.

You swallow. Can't work out if he's just teasing you or not. "There's nothing."

The silence in the room around you is deafening. It's like all you can focus on is Jungkook, and the way you imagine his lips pouting together at the end of each sentence he speaks. Pretty and pink and—

"So you've never thought about it?" He interrupts your thoughts with a question you're unprepared for. 

"What?" You reply a little dismissively, as if it's an outlandish think to consider.

But Jungkook doesn't buy it.

Has been driving himself insane.

Knows he can't be the only one—and if he is, then maybe he really is insane.

"Us," he replies as if it's water off a duck's back. Simple. Easy. "You've never wondered what it would be like?"

"Kook..."

It's like playing chicken. Both too scared to cross a line for fear of it changing the entire fabric of your lives.

But you can acknowledge something without acting on it. Confirmation means nothing; it's the choices that follow which really mean something,

"Yeah?" He husks. His sleepy eyes are pressed shut, his voice a slow drawl. "What is it, huh? You want me to admit it first?"

You almost laugh at how dumb this whole conversation is. You're friends. Have been for years. Colleagues. Just... Well, just you and Jungkook. He's never thought about you like that. You're certain of it.

Yet still, you ask, "Well, have you?"

He doesn't reply immediately. You half think he's drifted off to sleep, proof that he'd had too much to drink to be having a conversation like this.

But then you hear his breathy little laugh through the speaker. You know he must be nibbling down on his bottom lip as he smirks. The sound is so familiar you can picture it. You wish he was here. Want to see it. Feel it.

Fuck, you curse yourself out. This is not good.

And Jungkook's only gonna make it a whole lot worse.

"Yeah," he quietly admits, keys in one hand and padlock in the other as he stares at the annexe door in his mind. Wide open, there's no going back now. Only forward. "I think about it all the time."

Bam nuzzles the side of his head against your tummy as he adjusts into a slightly more comfortable position on Jungkook's bed. The sheets are a mess from all your tossing and turning, your body plonked right in the middle of his mattress. There's no his side or your side anymore. You've made it yours, and Bam has joined in.

He shouldn't be on the bed. You know this, he knows this. You're both disobeying Jungkook. Are in this perfectly innocent sin together, and will face the wrath of Jungkook as a unit.

There's never really much wrath that comes from Jungkook. He's the type to smirk and laugh in the face of the people who've wronged him. Believes in karma. Fate. He draws the lines at horoscopes, though. Thinks they're bollocks. Smiles, still, when you blame shitty things on Mercury.

The only time you've ever seen him angry—nostrils flaring, jaw tense, agitated beyond compare—was when some guy wouldn't stop hitting on you in a bar. You'd told him no a dozen times over and he just wouldn't listen.

It still pisses you off that he listened to Jungkook without hesitation, but you also know it looked like Jungkook was gonna break his nose. You're far less intimidating when you're annoyed. Jungkook laughs at you whenever you get frustrated. Says you're cute—or at least as cute as a Gremlin can be.

You've got a similar look on your face now, all perplexed and bereft. If he were here, he'd be teasing you, trying to make you crack a smile.

Annoyingly, you know he'd be able to.

You're staring up at his ceiling, early morning light seeping in through the gaps in the curtains. The world you wish to ignore today rudely intrudes on you regardless.

It's his karma, you think.

You disobey Jungkook, the world disobeys you.

With one hand resting on Bam, the other is tightly clutching your phone. For the past five minutes, you've been locking and unlocking it like a wind-up toy drummer.

To call, or not to call, or whatever Shakespeare said.

The faint hum of a wine-induced hangover buzzes between your ears, but it isn't so bad. Probably because you didn't really have that much to drink.

If anyone asks, you'll say you had a bottle.

And by anyone, you mean Jungkook.

If Jungkook asks, you'll laugh— We had a call? Are you sure? —and he'll laugh too— Yeah, we were both pretty drunk —and you'll both pretend like he didn't say the words that he did.

Pulling the pillow he usually sleeps on across to your face, you press it down. Scream into the padding. It's not loud enough to alarm Bam, but it is enough to make him cock his head.

It wouldn't have been so bad if it had only been Jungkook's lips that were loose last night.

The issue is that yours were, too.

You wish you didn't remember all the words you'd said. The way you'd told him to shut up.

The way he'd hummed, "Oh, come on. You know you think about it, too."

The way you'd said, "I do no such thing."

He had laughed. Said you were a liar.

You'd protested. Said it didn't matter anyways, 'cause you both know it'd never work.

"So you have thought about it," he'd teased.

"Briefly."

"How briefly?"

"Like a matter of minutes—"

"Okay, rude," he'd pouted through the receiver. "I last way longer than a couple of minutes."

"You're disgusting," you'd laughed at the way he'd made it all about sex.

For all he knew, you could have been talking about a relationship—but you're right. You both know it'd never work, so of course this is about sex.

"You the one who's thought about it, though," he'd flirted through the phone. Biting down on his bottom lip, the darkness of his hotel room had slipped him into a fatal state of hedonism.

There was a beat of his heart. One. Two. Still no response from you.

He knew you were thinking about it. Thinking about him. Decided to push his luck. Had almost whispered, his fingertips trailing down his torso, as he chanced, "Do you ever think about me when you touch yourself?"

Silence continued to linger for longer than it should have, until you finally just whispered, "Kook."

"Yeah?" He'd smirked.

"You can't ask things like that."

But he can, and he did, and your lack of an answer was an answer in and of itself.

He wasn't even really after the truth. He just wanted to get under your skin; burrow himself down into the deepest, darkest, most depraved corner of your brain. Revenge, he thinks, for that damn annexe you've assigned squatters rights to.

You set up home in him? Fine . He'll do it right back.

"So this is what I am, huh?" You'd replied, with a little faux chip on your shoulder, trying to deflect from yourself. "Just another office girl for you to fantasize about?"

There's always been a challenge to you that Jungkook has liked. You're sparring partners. Will bicker and argue and end up laughing over it all. It makes for excellent brainstorming meetings, 'cause you're always trying to win. You bring out the best in each other, even if it is in a bid to do the opposite.

Jungkook had sighed. Weighed up his options. Rested his hands over his boxers, only to find himself far too entertained by the conversation. It wasn't a surprise, nor was it unwelcome.

The frequency of his thoughts about you had been doubling, tripling, quadrupling ever since Chuseok.

His bed has become a pit of sin in recent weeks; nobody but him in the shrouded decay of a mind-house he's been neglecting in favour of the annexe shared with you.

He already knows just how bad it's gonna be for him when he returns home, and the pillows are dented by your crown, the lingering scent of your perfume wrapping around him just like he knows his hand will be around his cock. Tight. Strong. Firm. It's your name he'll whine, just like it was when he was in the shower earlier that morning.

God, it's gotten so bad.

He needs to stop before he ruins everything.

It's not like sex is an uncommon topic of conversation between you both. Casual vulgarity had been a tool used to bond with; a taboo way to tease one another. It's always been casual. Uncalculated.

It's different, now.

In the darkness of midnight, the stakes were raised almost as high as your heart rate.

"You think so poorly of me," he'd whined, a teasing smile on his lips. It wasn't rare to hear Jungkook address you so playfully. In fact, it was a common occurrence—yet it felt strange, this time. "You know you're not just another office girl."

"Do I?"

"You should."

"I don't," you'd shrugged into his sheets. "Tell me, how am I different?"

The distance between you made a flirt like this safe. Immediate consequences were null and void, and the alcohol in your system didn't seem to care for it either.

"I can't tell you."

"Sure you can."

"You don't wanna hear it," he'd promised.

"Try me," you'd challenged.

And then Jungkook admitted something he knew far better than to confess, but couldn't seem to help himself. He just wanted you to know that you were special. That you were different.

That you are different. Are special.

"None of the office girls have ever made me cum in my own bed."

It came out far less sweet than his brain had told him it would, but it was still a compliment, he thought.

"Jungkook!"

"What?!"

The way you both kind of shrieked at each other only amplified the shock of the confession, but also did well to hide the way it excited you, too. Got you hot beneath his sheets. Aroused.

"Don't say things like that," you'd scolded him with a laugh, playing it off as a joke. "I'll report you to HR."

"You'd do no such thing," he'd smirked down the line. Matched your energy. Played it off as an incredibly obscene, vulgar joke. Will turn his nose up if you ever ask him if he was telling the truth. "And anyways, the HR girls love me. You'd be fighting a losing battle."

"You're awful," you'd told him with such a tenderness that suggested you really didn't think that at all.

And so he smiled. Decided to cut his losses. Agreed. "Yeah. That's me."

The conversation dissolved into casual chatter until you both made excuses about being tired, or needing to sleep off the alcohol.

Yet both of you would spend the next hour awake, staring at your respective ceilings. Occasionally, you'd look to the space reserved for him in his bed. He'd do just the same. Would look at Jiwon's empty bed and lament the fact that it wasn't you on the trip with him.

He never should have asked you to watch over Bam—but there really isn't anyone else he'd rather have in his apartment.

Then he's thinking about you all over again, in his home, hair claw-clipped like it so often is, and how cute those little pyjama shorts of yours would look peeking out from the hemline of one of his shirts. He wonders what you're wearing; if it's your bare skin against his sheets. Wonders if he sleeps naked after he gets home, if it'd feel like your arms are wrapped around him; if the scent of your perfume would sink into his skin.

It doesn't take long for the thoughts to become lewd. He thinks of your lips, and how they'd part with a gasp if he were to stroke your skin with his fingertips. Thinks of your waist, and what it would feel like to hold. Thinks of your body in a way that really ought to get him fired.

How his lips could drag across your skin; the wet pink of his tongue learning where you liked to be touched. How he'd guide your hands. The words of approval he'd use— Yeah, like that. Oh, fuck. Yeah, just like that, baby. You're so good at that aren't you, huh? You know how many times I've imagined this? You're so much better. G'na make me cum, babe. Keep going. You want my cum, yeah? Yeah, you do. Oh, fuck—

"No," he sharply scolds himself, tearing his thoughts from you and his hand from his thick, impatient cock. "Fucks sake, man. Get a grip."

Wanting you like this is selfish, he thinks. Selfish and stupid and— God —so fuckin' dumb.

He also thinks it's your fault. You're an interior designer, after all. Have made that stupid annexe feel more like a home than the rest of his head ever has. Added candles and cushions. Hung pictures on the wall; turned off the main light in favour of warm lamps that just make him wanna curl up and fall asleep with you on the sofa.

It's so different, this little annexe in his brain, to the apartment that he actually lives in.

If he were to assess it thoroughly, he'd realise that the annexe looks just like your apartment.

But he hates your place. Has never been shy about telling you so. Hates all your nicknacks. Hates the clothing rails you use instead of a proper wardrobe, and the way your beside table is actually just a stack of books you're yet to read. Hates how there's always a cosy blanket within touching distance, and how it always smells like black cherry candles. Hates how firm your mattress is, even if he's only ever slept on it once, fully clothed after you'd both had way too much to drink after a tight work deadline.

He also hated how he didn't wake up with an aching back like he usually does. Hated how sleeping in his own damn bed began to feel wrong, and how nowadays it only feels right during those first few days after he returns from trips; when it still smells like you and the rings you take off your fingers in the night are still tucked beneath his pillows.

Kind of like they are now, as you finally decide to stop being a miserable cow and just get up. You're normally the one who calls him, and it's typically always when you're walking Bam. Last night had been an anomaly. There's no reason for him to call you, now.

It's when you're showering that your phone lights up. Only briefly. Messages, not calls.

JK: can't call this morning, gotta head to the exhibition hall early

JK: give my baby a head scratch from me

JK: send me pics!!

JK: of bam

JK: none of you

While the vomit emoji he adds onto the end of the final message is a little uncalled for, it's actually kind of a relief that he doesn't want to call. Having to face him right now, when you're in such a sorry state of confusion, would have only made the situation far worse for you.

At least that's what you tell yourself.

Your face when you walk into the office, and the state of despair Lea seems to find you in, would suggest otherwise.

By half past ten, you've managed to wrangle Jungkook into conversation eight times.

It's not until you mention him in relation to Jiwon that Lea seems to notice.

"Okay, so?" She laughs. "Everyone knows you and Jungkook are like a package deal. She isn't taking your spot—plus, you're her senior . If she tried to undercut you, do you think anyone would want to work with her?"

It's a good point, but you don't really care to listen to reason right now.

"But it's not undercutting," you pout. "You saw everyone in the group chat. Dream team. "

The way your voice heightens in pitch and nose turns up as you utter the phrase is nothing short of hilarious, and Lea makes sure to let you know.

"You're being a big old baby about this," she laughs again. "Jungkook's gonna come back, relay all of the deals he's set up, and then he's gonna whisk you up to his office to spend the next two weeks drawing up plans. I doubt I'll even see you!"

Admittedly, in the busy periods, you'll work at his desk. In the big chair. The special one he got after his first bonus. The one on his side of the desk. He'll work on the opposite side—the client side—with his laptop.

It's caused a fair amount of confusion before, whenever people have come to his office. Your nonchalance about it all makes it seem totally normal. Most people don't question it anymore—and if they do, you just say the programme you have to use runs better on his computer than it does on a laptop.

Which isn't a lie.

But you could always just work at your own desk.

The issues is that Jungkook likes to keep you close when he's working. Makes it easier for the random questions he blurts out that you're always ready to answer. Annoys him to no end when you're not there and he has to go off and find you.

By the time he finds you, the question is always half gone or you start blathering on about something completely irrelevant and he forgets it anyway. It makes him antsy not having you close.

Neither of you seem to realise it's not normal.

"Look," Lea sighs, minimising her tab so that she can give you her full attention. "You're the one who suggested Jiwon should go. It's just work! You're acting like a jealous girlfriend—"

"No, I'm not!" You gasp. "Don't be absurd!"

"Well, whose apartment did you wake up in?"

"That's hardly—"

"Whose?"

"I mean— Well— His, but —"

"Who was the first person you spoke to this morning?"

"Okay, that's not fair. I'm looking after his—"

"Who was the last person you spoke to last night?"

You pause. Narrow your eyes.

Lea just smiles.

"At least tell me you're in the spare room and not his bed," she jokes—but when she notices the look on your face, her smile drops. "Oh, you're kidding me! You know what you're like when it comes to domestication ! You're bloody nesting , aren't you?!"

"Oh c'mon," you scoff. "I'm not an animal!"

"Uh, yeah," she says, dumbfounded. "You are. That's the issue with humans. Too many bloody primal desires—"

"I do not have a primal desire for Jungkook!"

"Look me in the eyes and tell me you've never thought about it."

"I haven't!" You assert, eyes locked on hers. It's almost believable. Or at least it is until your lips begin to twitch. The look of shock on her face is borderline offensive. "Oh my God, shut up!"

Lea's face scrunches up in revulsion. Shoulders to her ears, she whispers, "He's a whore !"

"Okay, that's not nice."

"But it's true!"

Sighing, you slump into your chair. Push your pout up to your nose, and then sigh even deeper than before.

Looking across at Lea with such perplexity anyone would think she's just asked you to design interiors for a rocket ship, you decide you absolutely cannot let this confusion get the better of you.

"It's fine," you assure her. "He's coming home tomorrow evening. Once I'm out of his house, I'll be way more rationable about things."

"You sure?"

No.

"I'm sure."

As Jungkook places his rucksack down beside a bar stool in an airport lounge, he can't help but feel like he's doing something wrong.

It's dark outside, and the dim lights of the bar give way to a seedy intimacy that he's always loved about places like this—how fleeting they are. The casual embrace of a stranger's stare can linger for hours afterwards, consuming his thoughts for an entire flight.

Yet the only people he's even looked in the eyes of tonight have been the airport staff checking him through. Even as he asks for a whisky, he barely registers the woman behind the bar.

Placing his phone down, he also discards the lanyard that's been around his neck. He forgot to take it off before heading to their airport, and just popped it back on after going through the scanners.

It's not like he needs it now. The conference centre is miles away.

He's still in his business suit. Left quickly. Just confirmed with Jiwon that she didn't mind him catching an earlier flight and in all honesty, it suited her better. Jungkook had been so annoying about Acorn guy the entire time. Kept telling her it was a waste of energy, and no business would come from her pursuit of him. She wanted the chance to prove him wrong; to achieve something by herself.

"Are you Leaving early, too?" An American accent drawls from beside him, immediately grabbing Jungkook's attention.

A burly man with greying hair takes a perch on the stool beside Jungkook. Nodding towards the lanyard, he holds up his own. Mitch Ellis his tag reads, and instantly Jungkook is reminded of the folder you had handed to him before his departure.

"Did a little research on an American company that's gonna be at the Expo. Their head marketer has shares in a bunch of baseball-related companies. Get pally with him."

The opportunity hadn't arisen. Jungkook barely even had time to breathe, let alone seek out some elusive American businessman—yet here he is, in the flesh, approaching Jungkook.

Sucking a little air between his teeth, Jungkook nods. Laughs. Says, "Got a family to get back to."

What. The. Fuck.

He doesn't know why on earth he said that, he just knows he can't take it back. A family. For Christ's sake! It's not just the abandoned house in his brain that's rotting—it's the whole damn thing. Stupid .

Pursing his lips in approval, Mitch nods. Lends an expression that Jungkook can only assume means he respects the answer.

"Family man," he says. "Don't see many of them in the industry these days."

Jungkook shrugs. Continues on with his bullshit. "I love my job, but home's where the heart is." Or at least, it's where his dog is. Of course, he loves Bam more than he cares to articulate—but a man and his dog surely don't constitute to a 'family'. "You off early, too?"

"Wife and kids tagged along for the trip," he nods, then quickly asks the barmaid for a whisky, too. "Promised I'd take them to Lotte World tomorrow."

Jungkook grimaces. "Ooft, on a Saturday?"

"The crowds that bad, huh?"

Gritting his teeth, Jungkook tips his head from side to side, then says, "Get magic passes for the family. It's worth the extra price. Trust me."

He'd never dream of going to Lotte World on a Saturday.

In fact, he doesn't dream of it full stop. Grew up going to the Busan franchise, and would opt for it any day of the week. Everland would be his second choice if couldn't be bothered for the drive. But never the Jamsil Lotte World. It's always rammed .

"I swear, kids—" Mitch shakes his head "—All they do is bleed you dry."

Jungkook smiles. "I'm yet to reach that stage, but I can imagine."

Mitch looks appropriately confused. Did Jungkook not just make up a bullshit imaginary family? Surely he hasn't faltered already?

Jungkook clarifies, "Going home to my girl and my dog. No kids—or at least if I've acquired one over the last couple of days, it'll be a surprise."

He doesn't know why he said that.

My girl.

Oh, God. He's going insane. He must be. This is ridiculous.

Those stupid dreams of his had already started migrating into daydreams. Now, they're being spoken into reality. This is terrible. Really, truly, awful.

Mitch has an easy ten, maybe twenty years on Jungkook.

His hair is greying, and there are lines embedded into his skin that tell stories of the life he's lived.

While it's his career Jungkook would typically be envious of, he finds himself jealous of Mitch's personal life. Wife. Kids. God, he hates the conformity of it all, but there's an ache in his chest when he thinks about all that he doesn't have.

And it only worsens when he thinks of you and Bam.

"Ah, young love," Mitch nods, again seemingly in approval of Jungkook and his 'choices'—which is bizarre, because Jungkook wants to punch himself in the face. "Make the most of it. You'll be longing for the good old days once the kids come."

It's too late for Jungkook to correct himself. Too late to admit to the truth. To say 'lol, jk, im single, just fancy the pants off my coworker.'

The thought of it all makes him want to hurl. Fancy.

He's never admitted his crush before, not even to himself. Oh, this is all so awful.

And so Jungkook panics. Says, "Hopefully we've got a couple years before then. We're both at the same company, so we're trying to figure it all out before doing anything we can't take back."

What is wrong with you?!

"Oh?" Mitch chirps, encouraging Jungkook to continue.

"Were interns at the same time," Jungkook begins to overexplain, as if it makes it any better. He's speaking a crush into existence that he isn't even sure exists, and declaring it as love of some sorts? Oh, this is really barbaric. He might throw up. Maybe if he pretends to faint, he can get out of this situation. He thinks it would be less mortifying. Yet, still, he continues! "Have gone up through the ranks together, but are different departments."

Why is he still talking about you?!

Oh God, his head is gonna explode. It's like you're building an extension on the annexe. He never gave you planning permission, and yet there you are, concrete trowel in one hand, a brick in the other. You're so pretty, he thinks.

Get a grip!

"HR nightmare," Mitch laughs, then leans a little closer. "Truth be told, it's how me and the missus met—I worked for her Daddy's company. Thought I'd be fired on the spot when we told him."

"But I'm guessing...?"

Mitch nods. "I'm now their longest-serving employee and am set to take over in the next five years," he laughs. Thankfully, it all worked out. Hopefully, the same'll be said for you and your missus."

Jungkook's lips curve into a tight-lipped smile. Decides he has to change topic, or otherwise he might just self-implode. "Yeah. Fingers crossed—anyway, I don't think we had a chance to speak at the conference, did we? What's your company?"

As if Jungkook has earned a gold seal of approval, Mitch nods his head over towards a couple of chairs that overlook the runways. Picks up his whisky. Begins to walk away. Says, "I was about to ask you the exact same thing. What did you say your name was again? Let's talk."

"Jeon Jungkook," he grins, picking up his whisky, finally forcing you out of his brain. "Yeah. Let's chat."

"Bammie," you whine into Jungkook's pillows when the sound of his paws excitedly clattering across the floorboards wakes you. You can't have been asleep for very long. A couple hours, tops. "It's not time for walkies yet."

Burrowing yourself deeper into Jungkook's sheets, you try and drown out the noise–but it's fruitless. Not only is Bam too cute to ignore, you worry that there's something wrong.

Sitting up, eyes all beary, the dark nothingness around you clues you in on the fact it's definitely the middle of the night. Pushing the duvet off your body, you swing your legs over the side of the bed as your phone begins to vibrate. Jungkook's face takes over your screen, and a frown takes over yours.

Part of you wants to ignore it. Wonder if maybe you've already slept through it ringing out, and that's what woke Bam up.

At this time of the evening, Jungkook should be at the afterparty. It's unofficial, and not endorsed by the convention, which only means one thing: people are getting legless.

He'd sent you a message earlier on in the day saying that Jiwon was still trying her absolute hardest to bag the Acorn man, after an unsuccessful attempt the night before. You wonder if he's wing-manning her.

Bitterly, you wonder if she's cut her losses. Turned her attention to Jungkook, instead.

He's probably shitfaced by now.

Part of you worries he'll want to continue the conversation from the night before. You're too sober to even consider flirting.

Sliding across to answer, you hold the phone to your ear and you begin to walk in the direction of wherever Bam may be.

"Yeah?" You croak down the phone, rubbing your eyes with the back of your hand.

"You sound chirpy," he teases.

Bizarrely, you think he sounds sober. "Fuck off."

"Charming. Undo the bolt on the door," Jungkook demands down the line, but there's almost an echo, as if he's just in the other room or something like that.

Your feet softly pad into the living room, the darkness not much of a hindrance. You know his apartment like the back of your hand; the veins, the freckles, the grooves dappled in your skin below your knuckles. All it takes is a couple of steps for you to reach the light switch, and absolutely zero thought for you to flick it on.

"Hm?" You mumble a confused sound as light bursts into the room. Your eyes squeeze together, a groan catching in your throat. Blinking once, twice, you adjust quickly. Spot Bam by the entryway, looking up at the door expectantly. One of his paws taps at the steel, a soft whine trembling on his lips. Turning your attention back to Jungkook, you say, "What?"

"'I'm home, gremlin," Jungkook softly smiles down the phone. "Let me in."

"But it-" You begin to protest, knowing that his flight isn't until tomorrow.

Jungkook doesn't care to explain himself. Is just as tired as you sound.

"Let me in."

You don't need to be told twice.

He's home.

It shouldn't make you feel the way that it does, all warm and content.

But it does, and for a moment, you let yourself indulge in the sensation of welcoming Jungkook right back to where he belongs.

Hanging up, you place your phone on the kitchen counter, reaching out to scratch Bam's head when you get to the door.

"Is it daddy, huh?" You ask him as he continues to paw at the door. There's a small metallic click as you unthread the bolt, which is quickly replaced by a robotic beep as you press the easy-release button for the latch.

Before you can even properly open the door, the handle is being pressed down from the outside. The sound of Jungkook's hushed voice echoes into the hallway instantly as he coos over Bam just to wind him up a little before he can see him.

"Who is it, Bammie?" He asks through the door, and you already know exactly what he looks like—smile so large it takes over his entire face.

You help to push the door open, and find that there's sunshine in the middle of the night in Jungkook's hallway.

"You're home," you sleepily smile as you watch Jungkook crouch, arms wide and all-encompassing as he greets Bam in the most boisterous of ways. He's not making any sense. Isn't saying any words. Just lets noises rumble from his throat, of which Bam somehow seems to understand.

In a way, you understand it too. The mental translation is a bit patchy, but you know it's something along the lines of, I've missed you so much Bammie, Daddy's home now, let's never spend time apart ever again.

Glancing up to you, that daylight smile hanging off his lips, Jungkook's got a glisten in his tired eyes.

Maybe you haven't adjusted to the light as well as you think you have, but there's something different about Jungkook. Something that's making your weary heart work overtime. It's all a bit strange. All a bit lovely. All a bit terrifying.

"Yeah," he tenderly agrees, hands scratching behind Bam's floppy ears as his eyes fondly meet yours. How could he ever stay away? "Home."

part three to be uploaded tomorrow <3

[cherrrydragon]

➤ you need to be yourself (love someone for loving you instead of someone really cool)

← back to main masterlist

read it on ao3

SUMMARY ↳ Tim Drake and you, throughout the years. Growing up changes things, after all. You've always valued your independence, your ability to navigate life on your own terms. Yet, beneath that independence lies a yearning—for connection, for understanding. There’s a realization settling in—a realization that friendships, like all relationships, evolve and change as you get older. You've grown alongside Tim, but perhaps you've also outgrown some aspects of your dynamic. You’ve noticed the way his muscles flex when he stretches, the way his arms have gotten bigger and you’ve seen a glimpse of his toned stomach. He’s grown up, as seen by his body. But growing up doesn’t just change your body. It also changes your mind. pairing: tim drake x fem!reader warnings: reader gets grazed with a bullet, but i think thats it (other than the angst, that is) tags/notes: unrequited love but not actually unrequited love, hurt/comfort, angst w/ a happy ending, friends to lovers, this fic was inspired by Best Friend by Rex Orange County. wc: 6.9k

You first met Tim Drake at a gala.

Your parents had promised you ice cream if you behaved well. You didn’t want to go in the first place, but the promise of a sweet treat was too tempting for your little eight-year-old mind.

Dressed in your best clothes, you arrived at the grand event, feeling overwhelmed by the opulence and the throngs of well-dressed adults. You stuck close to your parents, clutching your mother’s hand tightly as you navigated the sea of guests.

While your parents mingled with other attendees, you found yourself near the dessert table, eyes wide with anticipation. Your father said not to try anything without permission, but he didn’t say from who. Now, you have to figure out who to ask and how to ask them. Words never came easily to you.

There’s a boy coming up to you. Maybe you can ask him. Maybe not, he looks like he’s your age. An adult would know better.

“Hi, I’m Tim,” he said, offering you a smile that seemed a little too mature for his age.

You introduced yourself shyly, still focused on the food. Tim seemed to sense your discomfort in the unfamiliar environment.

“Do you want to go somewhere less boring?” he asked, glancing around to ensure no adults were watching.

Nodding eagerly, you followed Tim through the maze of guests until you reached a quiet corner of the gala hall. There, hidden from the prying eyes of the adults, Tim produced a small bag of chocolates from his pockets.

“All the chocolates have weird stuff in them. These just have chocolate,” he explains, handing one to you.

You nibble on it gratefully, taking a seat with him on a nearby bench. The two of you chatted about school, favorite toys, and the best flavors of ice cream. Kid stuff, you know how it is. Tim tells you about his parents' business, about why their work is important and that they’d appreciate your parents’ support.

“You should tell your mom and dad about my mom and dads work,” he insists. To be honest, you weren’t paying all that much attention to what he had been saying, but you’ll tell your parents about it since he asked.

Your mom shakes her head when you tell her, muttering under her breath, “They’re making their son network?” You didn't quite understand what your mother meant at the time. You only remember wanting to share ice cream with him.

From that day on, your paths crossed frequently at various events. Tim quickly became one of your closest friends, someone who understood your quiet nature and often helped you navigate social situations. You find out you’ll attend the same school, which makes you happy.

You’ve never been one for friendships. You simply just prefer being alone, often labeled as ‘mysterious’ by your peers. But Tim has dutifully kept the title of your best friend for years now.

The thing is, you’re not sure you're his best friend.

Tim Drake has his friends, and all you have is him. There’s the pretty blonde, named Stephanie, the other pretty blonde, Cassie. The lively one named Bart, and the cool one named Conner. Sometimes Tim invites you to hang out with them, but you’re not stupid. You know there’s a disconnect between you and them. You feel like you're constantly missing something when you’re around them.

You stop hanging out with them, and eventually Tim stops asking. He must’ve noticed, though, since he starts coming over to your place every Friday for movie night.

At first, it’s a bit awkward. Tim brings over some of your favorite movies, trying to rekindle that old spark of friendship. You sit side by side on the couch, munching on popcorn and watching the screen, occasionally sharing a laugh or a comment.

As the weeks go by, you start to relax into this new routine. Tim is patient, never pushing you to talk more than you’re comfortable with. Sometimes, in the quiet moments between movies, he asks about your day, your thoughts, your dreams.

One Friday evening, after a particularly intense movie, Tim turns to you with a serious expression.

"I miss hanging out with you, you know," he admits quietly. "I know things have changed between us, but I still value our friendship a lot." He scratches the back of his neck. “I know I’ve been busy lately, but a lot of things have happened. Out of my control.”

You glance at him, feeling a mix of emotions. Part of you wants to explain why you pulled away, but another part just wants to enjoy this moment of peace with Tim. You nod slightly, not quite sure what to say.

Tim smiles softly, reaching over to squeeze your shoulder gently. "Thanks for letting me come over every week. It means a lot to me."

And just like that, the tension eases between you. You realize that maybe friendship doesn’t always have to fit into a predefined mold. Tim understands you in a way that no one else does, and you’re grateful for his presence in your life.

You try-out for the volleyball team. You make it.

It becomes a staple in your life. Your afternoons are filled with shoes squeaking on the gym floors and sore muscles. The practices, the games, the friendship with your teammates—it all starts to feel like a natural extension of who you are.

The friendship with your teammates.

They form a group chat, adding you in it of course. It stops being used only for practice announcements and starts being used as ‘life’ updates from your teammates. They gossip about who they like, who they dislike, their boy troubles. You don’t say much, but when they ask you for your opinion, you give it. Apparently, you give really good advice.

You’re sixteen when you realize you’re in love with Tim Drake.

You’re not sure how long exactly, but you know that you’ve craved his presence since you’ve met him.

Tim introduces you to his boyfriend, Bernard. He’s blond. You think Tim might have a thing for blondes.

You tell Tim this later, when Bernard leaves. He only shrugs.

You wonder why you didn’t realize when Tim dated Stephanie. Probably because they dated when you and Tim were estranged. Maybe the reason you two became so was because they dated. You don’t know.

You've always known Tim as your best friend, the person who understands you better than anyone else. But realizing you're in love with him changes everything. It's a mix of emotions—joy, fear, uncertainty. You start noticing things about Tim that you hadn't before—the way he smiles, the way he talks about his interests with such passion, the way he looks at you sometimes when he thinks you're not paying attention.

That last thing might be delusion on your part.

But Tim has Bernard now, and you respect that. You value your friendship with Tim too much to jeopardize it with your feelings. So, you bury your emotions deep down and try to focus on being the best friend you can be.

“What about you, [Name]?” asks Mina, libero of your team. Mina is notorious among your friends as the one with the most boy problems. You’d never say this out loud, but you think she doesn’t know that you don’t always need to be in a relationship.

“Any boy troubles?”

Your shoelaces can’t get tied fast enough. “No.” Because there’s not. Tim has his own boyfriend. There’s no you and him, apart from being you being his friend and him being your best friend.

Lilly, setter, gives you a playful nudge, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "Come on, spill! There's gotta be someone you're crushing on."

You chuckle nervously, shaking your head. "Really, there's no one."

Your teammates exchange knowing glances, clearly not convinced. You've always been more reserved about your personal life compared to them. They respect your privacy, but sometimes they can't help but tease. You’ve come to realize that it’s just a friend thing.

Senior year is a calm year.

Most people describe it as the most stressful yet chill year of them all. Stressful, because after this life is going to be serious and suddenly you’re swamped with creating a resume and applying to colleges. Chill, because you can simply just not do all that, and barely show up at all.

Your parents want you to go to college, but assure you that if you don’t want to, you’ll always have a place at their company. Nepotism is a beautiful thing.

You think less of Tim and think more of making this volleyball season the best it can be. It’s your senior year after all, when better to go all out? You become the reason your team wins their games. The star ace. 

During the final game of the season, Tim meets you out back, just before you have to go out on the court. He's holding a bouquet of flowers—violets and peonies. His smile is nervous, uncertain, but there's a warmth in his eyes that you've come to recognize as affection.

"Hey," he starts, handing you the bouquet. "I know this might be a weird time, but there's something I've been wanting to tell you."

Your heart skips a beat as you take the flowers, your mind racing with possibilities. Could this be...?

"I've been thinking a lot lately," Tim continues, his words coming out in a rush now. "About us, about our friendship. I realize I've been a bit... oblivious, maybe. And I just wanted to say that I really appreciate you, [Name]. More than anyone else in my life."

You feel a mix of emotions—hope, confusion, and a twinge of disappointment. You try to keep your expression neutral, not wanting to betray your feelings. You’re not sure what you were thinking. You should’ve known better.

You tentatively reach out to take the bouquet. It’s pretty. “You should’ve probably saved them for after the game.” It’s meant to be a joke, but you’ve never been too good at making those.

Tim chuckles softly, his nervousness easing a bit at your attempt at humor. "Maybe. I wanted to give them to you now.”

The bouquet feels heavy in your hands, the flowers vibrant and fragrant against your fingers. “Thank you.”

You play with all your might. Sweat beads at your temple as you leap in the air. It feels like flying. You play with a fierce determination, channeling your emotions into each move, each serve, and each spike.

You spot Tim in the crowd as you’re in the air. He's watching you intently, his eyes filled with pride and admiration. The game seems to blur around you as you lock eyes with him. You almost miss the winning point.

You're surrounded by your teammates, celebrating the victory, but your eyes search for Tim. He's waiting for you at the edge of the court, a proud smile on his face.

As you approach him, still breathless from the game, he envelops you in a hug. "You were amazing out there," he says sincerely, his voice filled with admiration.

"Thanks," you manage to reply, feeling a rush of emotions—pride, happiness, and a lingering uncertainty.

“I like seeing you do things you love.” He should stop saying things like that.

Tim wants to take you out to dinner to celebrate. You initially decline, and he looks a little confused by that.

“My coach said she’d take us out to eat if we won,” you explain.

“Oh,” he says.

“Don’t worry about what Coach said, [Name],” says Anne, captain, laying a firm hand on your shoulder. “Go spend time with your boyfriend. I’ll ask her to reschedule.”

“Tim’s not my–”

“That’s okay,” smiles Tim. It’s his showman smile. “I don’t want to keep [Name] from spending time with you.” He doesn’t deny that he’s your boyfriend. Why doesn’t he deny that he’s your boyfriend?

Anne grins, fierce and sharp. “Take her out to dinner.” And that’s that.

Tim keeps a friendly hand on your back as he guides you out. “Let's go to that place we talked about last week," he suggests, his voice almost as sweet as the victory that's just come to pass. "I promise it'll be worth it."

You're filled with a mix of emotions as you walk alongside Tim, still processing everything that's happened. The restaurant is cozy, with dim lighting and soft music playing in the background. Tim seems relaxed, chatting about the game, your performance, anything really. Tim’s always had a way of capturing your attention.

“Bernard and I broke up.” You almost don’t register the info, too focused on watching his face.

You furrow your brows. “What did you do?”

“Why do you assume I did something?” he asks dryly.

“Have you met you?”

“Nothing happened.” He rolls his eyes. “It just didn’t work out.”

“Oh,” you reply softly, unsure how to respond to Tim’s revelation. You hadn’t expected he would talk about his relationship status, and would’ve preferred if he hadn’t.  Tim continues to look at you, waiting for you to say something, anything, but you’re not sure what to say. 

The atmosphere between you feels a bit heavier now, the weight of unspoken feelings lingering in the air. You've always valued your friendship with Tim above anything else, and while part of you feels a pang of sympathy for his breakup, another part wonders what it means for your relationship with him.

By the time dinner ends and you're walking back together, the tension that had briefly surfaced seems to have dissipated. Tim is back to his usual self, cracking jokes and teasing you playfully about your volleyball skills. You find yourself smiling, grateful for the comfort and familiarity of your friendship.

As you part ways for the night, Tim gives you a warm hug, holding onto you for just a moment longer than usual. "Thanks for tonight," he says sincerely, his voice quiet.

"Anytime," you reply softly, feeling a rush of warmth at his words. "I'm glad we could hang out."

Tim nods, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer before he finally heads off. You watch him go, your mind swirling with thoughts and emotions that you're not quite ready to unpack yet.

In the days that follow, you notice subtle changes in your interactions with Tim. He is pulling you closer to him. He has taken you to more private places just to hang out. He seems more attentive, more considerate of your feelings and preferences. He makes an effort to spend more time with you, whether it's grabbing lunch together between classes or inviting you over for movie nights more frequently. 

You feel a flutter of hope in your chest with each of these gestures, but you push it down. You know better.

Tim stops going to school for a while, and it feels like you're back to square one. Back to when he found better ways to spend his time, with others who are not you.

You meet a boy. He’s nice and he’s cute. You like him well enough, and he seems to genuinely enjoy your company. Your friends say that you guys are cute together.

He asks you on a date to a local cafe, and you agree. It's a pleasant afternoon, filled with easy conversation and laughter. He listens intently as you talk about your interests, your dreams for the future, and he shares his own aspirations with you. It feels comfortable, uncomplicated.

Comfortable and uncomplicated never last long for you.

“This is a goddamn robbery!”

Two warning shots go off, and people scramble out of their seats to cover. What kind of asshole robs a cafe? You hide under the table, mind scrambled by the sudden change of events. Your hands scramble to grab on to your date, for comfort or for reassurance you don’t know, but you don’t feel anything.

You see your date round the booth and run out of the door. He left you.

You’re left alone and bewildered, shaken by the sudden chaos. Your heart races, adrenaline pumping as you try to make sense of what just happened. Fucking asshole , he just left you!

“Put the gun down, sir.”

There’s someone in the doorway. You peek out from under the table, heart still racing, and see him—Red Robin. He’s a figure of black and red. His presence commands and reassures.

The robber hesitates, gun wavering slightly as he eyes Red Robin warily. It’s a stand-off, tense and uncertain.

“I said put the gun down,” Red Robin repeats calmly, stepping forward with measured confidence.

The robber takes slow steps to the side, gun pointed at the vigilante. Every step taken to get closer has the robber threatening to shoot. “Easy, just put it down and we can talk,” Red Robin continues, his voice steady and calm. The tension in the cafe is strong, everyone holding their breath as they watch the standoff unfold.

The robber’s hand shakes as he weighs his options, eyes darting between Red Robin and the patrons cowering behind tables. His legs carry him closer and closer. He’s.

He’s getting closer to you.

You try to move further under the table, but the robber lunges down and grabs your arm, twisting his and pulling you up. You yelp as there’s suddenly something cold pressed to your head.

“I’ll blast her brains out.”

"Let her go.” Red Robin's voice is suddenly deep and menacing.

The robber hesitates, glancing between you and Red Robin. He tightens his grip on your arm, causing you to wince in pain.

"Let her go now," Red Robin repeats, his tone firm and unwavering. Your breathing starts to pick up.

Suddenly, there's a blur of motion and a loud thud. The robber cries out in pain as he releases you, stumbling back from the force of impact. There’s a loud sound and suddenly there’s a searing pain in your side.

You whimper and stumble to the floor, holding your side. There’s a rush of movement around you as you crawl away. You hear sirens. The police are here. What good they were.

“Hey. Heyheyheyheyhey. It’s okay.” A hand removes yours and replaces it. You look at them. They’re covered in blood. “It’s just a graze. It’s okay.”

Red Robin is at your side muttering reassurances into your ear. You whimper when his hand applies pressure to your wound. He shushes you quietly. “You’re fine.”

Then his voice breaks. “You have to be.”

There’s a heavy thud of boots in your directions. “Red Robin.” It’s Batman, in all this terrifying and dramatic glory. Batman, with a quick glance at you, shifts his attention to the situation at hand. “She needs medical attention.”

Red Robin helps you sit up a little, keeping pressure on your wound while Batman assesses the situation. The cafe is now surrounded by police, and the robber is being apprehended. "Stay with me," Red Robin urges softly, his voice a comforting presence amidst the chaos. "You're going to be okay."

Paramedics arrive shortly after, quickly attending to your wound. Red Robin stays by your side, explaining what happened to the paramedics and keeping you calm. It’s strange, how easily you’re comforted by his presence.

You're taken to the hospital for treatment, where the doctors confirm that your injury is indeed just a graze. Your parents are the first to arrive, appearances rustled. Your mother sheds a tear, even after you tell her that it’s just a graze, that it could’ve been a lot worse. That makes her cry harder.

Your friends arrive next, rushing through the door. You ask how they found out what happened, and they say they were secretly watching your date from across the street. They ridicule your date, having saw how he ran away first thing. You can’t bring yourself to be irked with them.

No one else comes to visit.

You’re allowed to go back to school after a week. Tim is there, waiting by the entrance. He perks up when he sees you. You stop in your tracks as he makes his way over to you.

Tim embraces you in a hug, unexpectedly. You can’t bring your arms up to hug him back. He must notice, because he unwraps from you with a cough.

"...Hey," Tim says softly, his eyes searching yours. "I heard what happened. Are you okay?"

You nod, not being able to bring yourself to say anything. He nods as well. “That’s good.”

“...Are you sure?”

“Tim…” you sigh, finally. He perks up at your voice, looking at you earnestly.

“Do you want to go somewhere? The park? We don’t have to do anything, we can just. Sit. I don’t want you to pull your stitches or anything–”

“You weren’t even there.”

Tim shuts up, staring at you. You don’t look at him, perhaps afraid. You’ve never truly spoken your mind, preferring to simply deal with it and move on. But you… deserve better.

“I waited for you to come visit,” you whisper, looking down at your shoe. “But you never came. Did you even know?”

His hands hover in the air uselessly. “I. Of course I knew–”

“Then why didn’t you visit?” Your brows furrow. “Is that asking too much? For you to just, show up? While I’m sitting in the hospital because I barely missed being shot?”

“I was busy!”

“You’re always busy,” you groan.

Tim's expression tightens with guilt as he listens to your words, his usual composed demeanor faltering. He runs a hand through his hair, looking conflicted. "I know... I know it's not an excuse, but things have been crazy, and I... I should have been there for you. I'm really sorry."

“It’s the same thing everytime.”

“[Name]?”

“You’re not there. You apologize for not being there. I accept, we move on. And then it happens again.”

Tim's shoulders slump slightly, and he takes a moment before responding, his voice quieter now, tinged with regret. "I... I don't want it to be like that. I want to be there for you. I want to... I want to do better. You just… you don’t know what I have going on in my life.”

You glance up at him, meeting his gaze. His sincerity is evident, but so is his struggle with balancing his responsibilities. You take a deep breath, feeling a mix of frustration and a longing for understanding.

“I don’t know because you don’t tell me anything,” you mutter.

He takes a step closer, hesitant but determined to bridge the gap that has formed between you. “I’m sorry, but please. You're… you’re my best friend.”

You shake your head. “You’re my best friend. I’m just… convenient for you.”

Tim's expression softens, hurt flickering across his features before he shakes his head. “No. No, please don’t think that.”

“What else am I supposed to think?”

Tim's eyes search yours, pleading for understanding. He takes a deep breath, trying to find the right words. "I... I know I've let you down. And I'm sorry for that. You mean more to me than just convenience. I don't always… know how to balance everything.”

His admission hangs in the air, vulnerable and raw. You feel a pang of sympathy mixed with frustration. Tim has always been your closest friend, but for a long time, it's felt like he's slipping away, caught up in his own world.

“Can you just,” you pause, feeling like your entire world just shifted on its axis. “Leave me alone?”

“...How long?” he croaks.

You hesitate, the weight of your words heavy on your chest. "I don't know, Tim. I just. I need some space right now."

He nods slowly, expression twisted with anguish. “Okay,” he says softly. “Whatever you want.”

You wanted him, but that’s not possible.

Tim stands there for a moment, as if searching for something else to say, but ultimately turns away. You watch him go, feeling a mixture of relief and sorrow.

Days pass, and Tim respects your request for space. The halls of school feel different without his constant presence, a reminder of the void left by his absence. You start spending time on rooftops at night. You find solace in the quiet, away from the complexities of school and relationships. The city lights spread out beneath you, casting a gentle glow on the world below.

You've always valued your independence, your ability to navigate life on your own terms. Yet, beneath that independence lies a yearning—for connection, for understanding.

There’s a realization settling in—a realization that friendships, like all relationships, evolve and change as you get older. You've grown alongside Tim, but perhaps you've also outgrown some aspects of your dynamic. You’ve noticed the way his muscles flex when he stretches, the way his arms have gotten bigger and you’ve seen a glimpse of his toned stomach. He’s grown up, as seen by his body.

But growing up doesn’t just change your body. It also changes your mind.

It changed the way you see Tim. He’s matured into a strong and confident person, and you can’t help but notice the way he holds himself now. He’s more than just your childhood friend—he’s become someone you admire for his determination and resilience. Yet, amidst this newfound admiration, there’s still a part of you that remembers the boy who used to share chocolates with you at galas, who understood your quiet nature and sat by you during movie nights.

You can try to move on. You can hang out with other people, but he’ll always be in the back of your mind. You know you miss him. Every time you see him at school, you feel a pang of longing, mixed with a hint of resentment.

“You shouldn’t be out so late.”

You don’t move your head from where it’s rested on your arms on top of the ledge. Footsteps echo closer, until a figure clad in red maneuvers himself to sit on top of the ledge. Red Robin has decided to pay you a visit. You hope he doesn’t think you’re up to no good.

It’s silent for a moment, only the sound of wind rustling and cars moving able to be heard. The vigilante coughs, fidgeting.

“...You didn’t tell me why you were out so late.”

“You didn’t ask,” you mutter, finger trailing the surface of the ledge. 

“I guess I didn’t,” he chuckles awkwardly. He shifts, the dim glow from the city below casting a subdued light on his features. His suit blends with the shadows, making him seem almost ethereal against the night sky.

“It’s just that,” he pauses, straightening his shoulders once he seems to find his confidence. “A pretty girl like you shouldn’t be out alone so late.”

You raise a brow at him, which makes him falter ever so slightly. “I’m on a rooftop. There’s no one else here.”

“I’m here,” he points out.

“You are,” you agree. “So now that you have me alone, are you gonna do something to me?”

He sputters, waving his hands. “No! No, God no. I promise. I help people, not–” he stops, hearing a sound. It’s your laughter. It’s nothing grand, but it’s genuine. The vigilante relaxes a gentle smile on his face as he takes you in.

“Sorry,” you chuckle, eyes closing. It’s pretty late. You could honestly fall asleep here. Red Robin lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding, his shoulders dropping in relief. “Bad joke.”

“No, no. It was good,” he assures. “You got me good.”

The moment stretches between you, filled with the easy silence of two people who have unknowingly shared many quiet moments together. Red Robin’s presence is both comforting and disconcerting.

A finger gently pokes you, stirring you awake. “Sleep at home, not here.”

You blink a few times, slowly lifting your head from your arms, feeling the cool breeze brush against your cheeks. Red Robin’s face is close, concern etched in his features. You yawn, stretching out your limbs and reluctantly pushing yourself up from the ledge.

“Are you not sleeping well?”

“No more than usual,” He offers a hand to help you stand, and you take it, feeling the strength in his grip. Once on your feet, you dust off your clothes and glance around the rooftop, a part of you reluctant to leave the serene view behind.

“Let me walk you home,” Red Robin offers, his voice gentle but firm.

“Sure.”

As you walk together, the city around you hums with a nocturnal life of its own. The streets are quieter, but not entirely deserted. Red Robin stays close, his presence reassuring. You steal glances at him. Something about him feels familiar. Maybe it’s just because he’s friendly.

When you turn back to thank him once you’re at your front door, he’s gone.

It becomes a routine, meeting him on that rooftop. Sometimes he doesn’t show, you feel eyes watching you when you’re walking back home. The days blend into nights, and you find yourself looking forward to those moments on the rooftop. The city feels different when you're up high, watching from a vantage point few ever see. It's a perspective that offers clarity, a place where the noise of everyday life fades into the background.

One evening, you arrive on the rooftop to find Red Robin already there, leaning against the ledge, gazing out at the city. He turns when he hears your approach, his expression softening.

“You’re early tonight,” he comments, a hint of a smile playing on his lips.

“Needed some fresh air,” you reply, settling beside him. “And some company.”

He chuckles softly, the sound blending with the distant hum of the city. “Well, you’ve got both now.”

The two of you fall into a comfortable silence, the kind that speaks volumes without needing words. You find yourself studying him, noticing the way his eyes reflect the city lights, the slight tension in his shoulders that eases the longer you sit together.

“Why do you come here?” he asks suddenly, breaking the silence. His tone is curious.

“I like being alone,” is all you say.

He nods thoughtfully. “I get that. Sometimes it’s easier to think when you’re away from everything else.” He looks at you. “Surely you’re not lonely though, right?”

“Lonely?”

“Like…” he hesitates, “you have friends?”

“I do,” you hum, furrowing your brows. “But. I don’t know. The girls on my team are nice, but I don’t really feel all that connected to them.”

“Is there no one you feel connected to?”

“There was somebody, but,” you trail off, looking towards the skyline. “People change. I guess I just can’t keep up.”

Red Robin listens quietly, his gaze thoughtful. "Change can be hard," he agrees softly. "But it's also inevitable. We all grow, evolve... sometimes in different directions."

"Yeah," you murmur, staring out at the city lights. "I guess that's part of growing up."

He whistles slightly. “So, who was that somebody?” You raise a brow at him. “If you’re comfortable sharing, that is!”

“Didn’t take you for a gossip,” you mumble.

Red Robin laughs softly, the sound light and almost musical against the backdrop of the night. “It’s not gossip if I’m just listening.”

You consider his words, your gaze drifting back to the cityscape. “It was my best friend,” you admit quietly. “We grew up together, shared everything. But lately... things have changed. We’ve changed.” You sigh softly. “Sometimes I wonder if I did something wrong, or if it’s just... life.”

“I’m sure you did nothing wrong,” he whispers.

“I was in love with him. I think I still am.”

The admission hangs in the air between you, heavier than any silence that had come before. Red Robin shifts beside you, his posture suddenly more alert, more focused on your words.

"In love?" he repeats softly, as if testing the weight of the phrase.

“I kind of realized it when he introduced me to his then boyfriend. But by the time I understood my feelings, it felt too late. He has friends and big things happening for him, and all I have is him,” you mumble. “But I guess I don’t have him anymore.”

“He let me down so many times and I don’t even have it in me to be angry with him. I just wish he chose me.” You turn to face him.

Red Robin's expression is unreadable beneath his mask, but there's a softness in his eyes that wasn't there before. He listens intently, not interrupting your flow of words, allowing you to spill the feelings that have been bottled up for so long.

Your face turns sad. “But maybe I’m being selfish.”

Red Robin's hand moves slightly, as if he's about to reach out to you, but he stops himself, clenching it into a fist instead. "It's hard," he says gently. "Loving someone who doesn't see you the same way, or who can't be there for you like you need them to be."

You stare at him as he continues, “I know it can’t compare to what you felt, but I’ve been so upset for the longest because I couldn’t share this part of my life with you.” He gestures to himself. “I was angry I couldn’t share with you the crazy things that happen on patrol or rely on you to patch me up if things go bad.”

The fog in your head clears. You look at him in confusion. “What?”

“But I was also so scared of bringing you into this life. I didn’t know if you felt the same and I thought I would just be dragging you into something that wasn’t worth it.”

You blink, staring at Red Robin in shock as the realization dawns on you. The pieces start to fit together—the familiarity, the way he seemed to know you, the concern in his eyes.

“Tim?” you whisper, your voice barely audible.

He doesn’t deny it. Instead, he removes his mask, revealing the face of your childhood friend. Tim’s eyes are filled with vulnerability and a hint of fear, as if he’s terrified of what you might say next.

“I’m sorry,” he says softly. “I didn’t mean to keep this from you for so long. I wanted to protect you, but I ended up hurting you instead.”

Your heart races as you take in his words, the weight of his confession settling over you. The anger, confusion, and longing that have been building up inside you finally find an outlet.

“I thought,” he pauses, finding the words, “if I stayed away, you would be safe. You’d find other people and you wouldn’t need me anymore.” He shakes his head. “But I couldn’t stay away. You weren’t selfish [Name]. I was.”

The night seems to stretch on, the air tense with unspoken words. You look at Tim, still grappling with the shock of his revelation. His vulnerability pierces through the stoic facade you’ve seen him wear as Red Robin. The weight of his confession hangs heavy between you, stirring emotions you’ve kept buried.

You get up and start walking away.

Tim winces and reaches out to you. “[Name]–”

You whirl around. “I told you to leave me alone ,” you snarl. “So you go and play nice with me in your stupid costume? You pity me or something?”

Tim's expression shifts, hurt flashing across his features before he schools it into a mask of determination. "No, it's not pity. I care about you, [Name]. I've always cared." His voice is earnest, pleading almost, as if he's trying to convey the depth of his feelings without fully exposing himself.

You start pacing. “God, everything I told you–”

“I was just worried about you–”

“I trusted you.” you whisper.

He looks up at you, his expression pained. “I know I messed up. I should have been honest with you from the beginning.”

“Yes, you should have,” you snap, the anger rising in you like a tidal wave. “You had no right to decide for me.”

“You’re right, it was wrong.”

“Wrong doesn’t even begin to cover it,” you retort, your voice trembling now with a mix of anger and hurt. “Tim, I thought you were my friend.”

“I am your friend,” he insists, his voice desperate now, pleading for you to understand. “I’ve always been your friend. I–”

“[Name],” he pleads. “I love you.”

Your heart skips a beat at his words, the intensity of his confession crashing into you like a rogue wave. Tim stands before you, vulnerable and raw, his eyes searching yours for any sign of understanding, of forgiveness.

“That’s why I did the things that I did.” His hand reaches out to gently take yours. “Because I thought I wasn't enough for you, and I know I don’t deserve you, but I still love you.”

His hand, warm and trembling, rests gently over yours. The city lights cast a soft glow on his face, revealing the sincerity in his eyes. Your emotions churn in a tumultuous sea of anger, hurt, and disbelief, struggling to find their place amidst his confession.

For a long moment, neither of you speaks. The silence is thick with unspoken words and unresolved feelings. Tim's gaze never wavers from yours, a mixture of hope and fear etched into his features.

“You’re such an asshole.”

“I know.”

“I deserve better.”

“I know.”

You sigh deeply, head dropping. “Maybe it’s too late,” you say quietly, your voice wavering. “Maybe we’ve both changed too much.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You’re so unfair,” you growl, eyes growing wet. “I was trying to move on, and then you just come and do this.”

Tim winces.

You run a hand down your face tiredly. “And I still love you. God. Maybe I hate myself just as much as I hate you.”

“Don’t say that about yourself–”

“Shut up.”

“Okay.”

You point both fingers at his face. “You. You owe me so much.”

He nods rapidly. “I’m talking months, years of making this up to me,” you say, eyes looking into his. “You’re gonna do anything I ask and tell me anything I want to know.”

“Whatever you want, pretty.”

You raise a brow. He purses his lips. “Sorry. You’re kind of hot right now.”

“I’m always hot.”

“You’re right, I apologize.”

You glance at Tim, your anger softening. Despite everything, his familiar charm still manages to tug at your heartstrings. You let out a resigned sigh, realizing that beneath the hurt and confusion, there's a part of you that still cares deeply for him.

Your hands cup his face. “I’m going to kiss you now. You don’t deserve it, but I want it. And this will be the only one you get for a while.”

Tim’s eyes widen, and he takes a deep breath, bracing himself for what’s about to happen. He places his hands on your waist, tightening when you don’t bat him off.

As you lean in, you can feel the warmth of his breath against your skin. Your lips meet his in a kiss that is both fierce and tender, a complex blend of longing and frustration. The contact is electrifying, igniting a myriad of feelings that have been pent up for too long. For a moment, the world around you fades, leaving just the two of you amidst the city lights and the quiet of the rooftop.

Tim responds with a desperateness that contrasts with the tenderness of your kiss. His arms wrap around your waist, pulling you closer as if afraid you might disappear. The kiss lingers, neither of you rushing to pull away, savoring the connection despite the turmoil that surrounds it.

Tim presses a few fleeting kisses as you pull away. “Sorry, sorry,” he mumbles, not sounding sorry at all. “Who knows when you’ll let me kiss you again.”

“You’re such a loser. Why do I love you.”

His smile goes stupid. He shoves his face into your neck. “You love me.”

You sigh, leaning into his embrace despite yourself. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

The two of you stand on the rooftop, wrapped in each other’s arms, the city sprawled out beneath you. In that moment, amidst the complexities and uncertainties of life, you find a sense of peace—a realization that perhaps, despite the changes and challenges, some things are meant to endure.

“I’ll do right by you,” he vows.

You nod, feeling a bittersweet satisfaction. The process of healing and rebuilding trust will take time, but there’s a tentative hope that maybe, just maybe, things can start to mend. You lean your head against his shoulder, feeling the familiar comfort of his presence. “Let’s just take things one step at a time. I don’t want to rush this or force anything.”

Tim wraps his arms around you, his hold gentle but reassuring. “You won’t be. I want this bad. But whatever you want.”

Eventually, and hesitantly, Tim pulls away from you. “It’s late. Please let me take you home.”

He offers his hand, and you take it.

Tim struggles to let go of your hand as you open your front door. You compromise with a kiss on his cheek. “Goodnight, Tim.”

His face goes red. “Goodnight, [Name],” he replies, his voice carrying a note of hope and promise.

You close the door behind you, feeling a renewed sense of clarity. The complexities of your emotions are still there, but you have a newfound hope that things can be mended. The city outside continues its nocturnal dance, but up on the rooftop, amidst the shared moments and honest confessions, you’ve found a glimmer of possibility. And for now, that’s enough.

notes: tim only went up to you at that gala because of his parents, but his little 8 year old self saw a cutie and said fuck it we in this for life

[noroi1000]

I have a spicy request it a Gojo & Geto and short wife reader. One day Geto and Gojo found this cursed items that make a person answer any questions honest and truthfully no matter. So they decided to test it on y/n and they ask y/n rather spicy question at that. Thinking she give a them a innocent answer because they think she is too innocent to have such dirty thoughts but instead they get the opposite of it. The question is what your dirty fantasy? Y/n said it is to be double penetration in one aka she wants both of their dick inside of her pussy. Breeding her like crazy until she gets pregnant and she wants their baby’s . She wants them to cum in her like their animals in mating season. She wanted them cum so much that you think their got poison in somehow and they are cum out. She want her pussy to be sore and abused from them breeding attempts. She wants to be cover in their cum from head to toe and inside and outside. Let say after hearing that. Both Gojo and Geto decided to be good husbands and help their little wife fantasy 😉 😏

Perverted Truth

Paring: Husband Gojo & Husband Geto x Innocent Wife reader

Words: 2,3k

Summary: Your husbands put a cursed belt on you that makes you tell nothing but the truth. To see if it works, they ask you about the most perverted things. When they find out that their innocent wife has such fantasies, they decide to make it come true.

Warnings: Smut (hard fucking, two cocks in pussy, deep throat, sperm eating, balls licking)

"Are you sure it's safe?"

"Yeah, why not?"

"Satoru, any cursed item can be dangerous. I don't understand why you took it from the warehouse without permission."

"Suguru, nobody uses it. So what is it there for? We'll make use of it~." He said with a triumphant smile.

"What do you want to do?" He asked standing next to him.

"We'll put this cursed little belt on our sweet wife~. And ask her some questions~."

When they got home, it was quiet most of the time.

Gojo took care that no one would see that he had taken this item. And Geto didn't even want to know what he wanted to ask you.

Well, that could be useful if they were unsure if you loved them. However, you certainly love them. After all, you have two of them as husbands!

You certainly don't have any lover because you're too innocent to do that.

You are so small and lovely to them. They meet all your needs, so why should you have anyone other than them?

But he had to know...

He didn't want his white-haired friend, whose wife you are also, to ask you any hurtful question.

"What questions are you going to ask her?" he asked suddenly.

"Huh?"

"You know what you want to ask her?"

"Hmm... I was thinking of asking her which of us she prefers more..."

"You've gone crazy, haven't you?"

This can hurt you because later you'll be sad when one of them gets mad at you.

"But I know she'll say she loves us just the same." He said looking around. Looking for inspiration.

Until suddenly he looked at his pants, knowing that between his legs he had a dick.

He smiled.

"I'd love to hear her talk about what she thinks about our dicks." he laughed, sending a perverted smile to his friend.

"Do you really want to ask her that?"

"Maybe she'll blush too, but even because she's innocent there must be something she thinks about our dicks."

If Geto hadn't been driving, he probably would have hit him.

But still, he wanted to know too...

To see your cute face when you say something about their lengths...

"I would ask about her sexual fantasies. What she would like to do and what she is thinking about." Geto said as a smile appeared on his lips.

"Dirty thoughts, huh?" he laughed. "That's a good plan. Even though we can't expect anything like BDSM or millions of toys, and probably nothing spicy. After all, our little wife is so cute and innocent~."

"I think she's thinking something like she can suck us both while she's kneeling in front of us. Or long hours of slow, intense sex."

"Hmm... Dirty but gentle. However, it's all her. She falls apart when one of us fucks her. She is so tiny! I don't know if she ever thought of something like we both fuck her at the same time. Her pussy is tight, her ass is tight. We barely fit in. And her body is so cute." Gojo laughed as he watched the passing trees. "I'm curious what she'll say. Even if it's probably not something strong."

"But her innocence is adorable." The dark haired man added.

"So fucking adorable. Even so, I want to hear something lecherous fall from her mouth. But I don't think we'll get a dirty answer anyway. She's too sweet and innocent."

But it was worth testing you.

"T-Toru, what is it?” you asked as a thin strap that was almost like a collar was fastened around your neck. However, you didn't know why they put it on.

"What I should do now? Ah, this is a belt that will allow us to ask you any question and you will answer honestly, honestly, without any lies." Satoru said.

"What?" you asked, grabbing belt. It looked a bit older.

Cursed item?

"You do not have to worry. We just want to ask you a few not-so-important questions." Suguru said, reassuring you.

"You love us?"

Before you could answer as you wanted, your lips started to move involuntarily.

"I love you." you said.

You covered your mouth. You didn't say it with your will.

So it works?

This response was very fast, and even robotic. It's like it's hardwired into you.

"Oh? It works, Suguru. I think..."

"Let's ask another question to make sure... Which of us do you love more?"

Your lips moved involuntarily again.

"I love you both the same. You are the most important to me."

"I still don't believe..." said the dark haired one looking at you.

Even though it sounded different from what you say, you would answer the same.

"Let's start with something else. Whose cock do you prefer?" He smirked as he looked at you with his blue eyes.

They've pushed you into deep water now.

You would always avoid that answer because it's too embarrassing.

But your mouth opened.

So it really works.

"I like both dicks. I can not choose."

They both smiled suddenly as you blushed.

"What do you think about our dicks? Are we destroying your little pussy?" he asked with a smile on his face while Geto stood by, thinking what next question to ask.

"I like your dicks. They're both so big. Every time we have sex you destroy my pussy so much."

Their smiles were dark.

When you say that, it means that you mean it.

Maybe their little innocent wife wasn't as innocent as they thought?

"ooh? I didn't expect you to have such dirty thoughts. Tell us more." Suguru said as he put his wedding ring to his face, kissing it for you to see clearly.

"What are your fantasies? Your dirtiest fantasy?"

"That you both fuck my pussy at the same time."

You saw them smiling.

Your face was so red.

"Something else?"

"That we both breed my pussy until I'm pregnant with your children. That you cum inside me so much and often. I want my pussy bruised and sore from how hard you fuck me when you use me for breeding. I want to be covered in your cum from head to toe, inside and out. Feeling your cum run down my body and out of my pussy while you continue to fuck me."

Their eyes widened when they heard that. You noticed that their ears turned red.

And when you looked at their pants, you saw bulges forming.

"Wow...that was..." Suguru started but stopped, covering his growing smile with his hand.

"It was so lascivious, baby~." Finished Gojo, openly showing his satisfaction.

He began to take off his sorcerer's uniform.

When Geto got a signal from him, he did the same.

And clearly showed his smile too.

"So you want us to breed that little pussy?" Suguru asked.

And the thing around your neck told you to tell the truth.

"I really want this." You said.

And when they both approached you without their shirts on, you protested.

"W-Wait! N-Now?!!"

Then your shirt was torn. The fabric lay in tatters next to your legs.

"We didn't know you wanted to fuck so hard. But now that we know, we'll make your fantasy come true. Have you thought about fucking in the throat as well? I'd like to pour my cum on your face..."

"Yes." You replied and tugged on belt to take it off.

"Here." Suguru took it off you and threw it on the floor.

Just like your bra.

He picked you up as Satoru started sucking on your nipples.

You went to the bedroom as fast as you could.

If you knew, you'd put foil on the bed.

Of course, if you knew your sex tonight would be wet play.

Because it was very wet.

You were supposed to stretch before they fucked you.

That's why you were lying there at their behest, with the toy working deep inside your pussy.

Two orgasms left the bed beneath you wet. And it wasn't a pleasant feeling.

Saliva and tears ran down your face as your husbands fucked your throat until they both came down your esophagus.

You swallowed all of Satoru's cum hard. And then they made you sit down with Suguru's cum in your mouth and let it all out.

And then they happily watched your red face as you opened your mouth, letting a waterfall of semen flow down your chin.

A white thick fluid has covered your neck, flowing down your chest. Some drops even on your tummy.

What was left in your mouth, you swallowed.

You felt your stomach fill with the amount of their cum.

And that was just the beginning.

One of them fucked you first. Bringing you to two more orgasms as you squirted on them and on the bed.

You were oversensitive.

Suguru fucked you for the next few minutes before he came, squirting all over your belly and covering your clitoris with sperm.

As they switched so Geto could rest for a while and get ready for the next round, Gojo started fucking you.

With another orgasm, you felt your clitoris throbbing as the pleasure began to ache.

Even though they often fuck you in turn, it was your fifth orgasm.

God, that was so good... That's what you were thinking. Will they agree to this?

You felt the semen flowing all over your body.

Before he came, Satoru stretched out and smeared Geto's semen on your clit with the tip.

"You look so pretty covered in our cum~." He moaned before coming, covering your thighs white and stuffing the rest into your pussy.

You were exhausted by the time it happened. Sweat, tears, saliva, your arousal and their cum ran down your body.

At least they gave you a break.

You lay there with your thighs shaking as Satoru struggled looking at the sight of your exhausted body. To quickly get your erection back to continue.

You were wondering how much sperm they still have.

They usually come so much...

And now they were both on a mission for several days. So you didn't have sex.

Which just meant there was enough sperm in their balls to pour it on you.

"How soon do you think you'll be hard?" Geto asked, watching Gojo come off his high. And he started massaging his half-hard cock, looking at your tired body.

"One sec. Put your dick on her face and it will be even faster..." He moaned laughing.

What a friend he could have been if he hadn't.

His thighs appeared behind your head, and he placed his hard length against your face.

Wanting it (but not admitting it), you moved closer, enjoying the way he held your head higher as you kissed his balls.

Enjoying the way his cock bounced when you did.

"Will you do the same to me?" Satoru asked, walking over to you and placing his balls on your lips as he regained his hardness.

You opened your mouth, sucking on the soft skin, watching him smile with pleasure.

You placed your hands on their inner thighs, feeling the muscles.

Before you knew it, Suguru left a drop of precum on your lips and then they both pulled away.

Satoru placed you on Suguru's chest as he reached for his length, shoving it inside you.

It wasn't the first time he touched Geto's cock.

In fact, they were both shameless.

Satoru was able to sit between the two of you on the couch and start fucking you with his fingers or massaging your clit as he massaged Suguru's cock.

In return, you and he could massage his cock.

You guess that at some point your sex will take you to other heights. And they'll fuck each other as they fuck you too.

But for now, they will fulfill your fantasy.

Good thing you didn't have to tell them you had another fantasy now...

You were distracted, so you didn't feel the initial pain as Satoru's cock dilated you even more.

You thought you'd break.

"Such a small pussy... So tight... But you take the second cock so well. Just... Take it easy... That's right..." said Satoru as his pubic bone touched your clitoris and Suguru's sperm stuck to his pubic hair.

You thought you passed out because when you woke up they were already moving inside of you. And you couldn't make a sound other than moans and cries and screams.

It didn't hurt. But watching two big cocks disappear inside your pussy is something unbelievable. It's something that would never fit inside of you. However, they adjusted it.

Satoru's thighs glistened with semen and your juices. And you guess it's the same with Suguru when he was lying under you.

You probably came on top of them, covering them with your fluids and passed out.

It all just made them laugh.

Your pussy was bruised from their blows. Every touch of his body against yours was painful. Your lower lips ached, but each time they entered you, it washed over you with pleasure.

Both hot freaks kissed your womb, only asking you to be filled to the brim with their cum.

Until your belly gets round from the amount of their cum, and then you're pregnant with their babies.

They would do anything to get one of your cells  fertilized by Satoru and the other by Suguru.

And the more often and longer they fuck you, that might be possible. If it works out somehow.

If there are curses in this world, such cases must also happen.

Your words were gibberish as they both pressed against you, holding their lengths inside you as they shot cum into your womb.

Warming up your core even more.

"We'll breed you until there's not a drop of sperm in our balls. And tomorrow we start all over again."

[minhosimthings]

Threesomes with Enha's hyung line

Pairings: Fem!reader × Enha hyung line (separate, poly relationships)

Warnings: SMUT, MINORS DNI, Poly relationship, fingering, oral (receiving and giving), spanking, degradation, hair pulling, edging, slight dom!reader

A/N: guys look I'm really kinda dead rn and I've written the next two chapter of hold me Without hurting me but I DONT WANNA POST THEM I DONT KNOW WHY. So enjoy some of my dumb opinions while I stalk off to the rabbit hole of HeeJake fics (yes even the fluff ones) also it's my first time writing threesomes and I kinda enjoyed it for some reason (no it's not because I like the idea of two people domming my pathetic sub ass nope)

HeeJake/Ramyeonz: Heeseung + Jake

Ok maybe im just biased and too much of a simp for them I am but I genuinely believe they would be the best to fuck at the same time, because of their duality in bed. Like they could be the best degraders or the best praisers, based on your mood. Imagine coming home one day, all exhausted and so needy, to find your boyfriends sitting and watching football. And them, being them, would rush at the image of you pouting and begging, and take you upstairs at the speed of lightning. Hee would go first, obviously with the elder card, and would rile you up and edge you to the brink of insanity, not allowing you to cum, with the reason of "we gotta let Jake get his turn too, right?", whispering in your ear. Jake would be sitting obediently in the corner, boner ripping his pants, getting turned on wildly by the sound of your moans of Heeseung's name. When Jake would get in with you, who was already sweaty and panting, he would give you the greatest pleasure of your tiny life, finishing all the orgasms which Heeseung had refused you. They would also be the best subs for you, calling you mommy and begging to suck on your tits while they layed in bed with you. Of course how could you say no to those adorable Bambi eyes and those breedable puppy ones? And that is why ladies and gentlemen, I think Ramyeonz would be the best to have threesomes with. (I am definetly not biased nope)

HeeJay: Heeseung + Jay

Ahh yes the two oldest of Enhypen. Also known as the softest doms of the dom universe and no I'm not exaggerating. Like they know when you need to have soft comfort sex and when you need to be absolutely destroyed for being the brat that you are. Ngl you being a brat is the best scenario for them because look, as much as they respect you and your sexual space, sometimes they need to fuck you like you're their personal sex toy, and you'd be willing to do that. Imagine, you're just fucking yourself with that expensive pink vibrator from Paris itself, courtesy to Jay not wanting his princess to be bored, and Heeseung just walks in, trying to find his fitness watch, and sees you fucking your cunt, and smirks, leaning against the doorway, and calls for Jay, even though you had begged him not too, knowing that he wouldn't be too pleasured at knowing that you were fucking yourself without permission. And let's just do an RIP to your pussy that day, what with Jay and Heeseung fucking you, one cock in your pussy, the other in your ass, filling up both your holes. Jay would whisper words into your ear from behind, "Fucking yourself were you, kitten? Without your daddy's permission?" And Heeseung would just smirk at you, knowing that you couldn't see Jay's face from behind. And of course your ass is gonna be red as a tomato, after Jay is finished with slapping it. THEY ARE AFTER CARE KINGS THO I WILL DIE BY THIS HILL. jdjksjsb jay just slowly washing you off in the shower and Heeseung putting on your skincare AND YOU JUST GO TO SLEEP WITH TWO HUNKS WITH YOU LIKE GIRL YOU DONT EVEN NEED A BLANKET TO KEEP YOU WARM.

SeungSung/HeeHoon:Heeseung + Sunghoon

Babe. Babe. BABE. Let me tell you THIS DUO IS FOR ALL MY DEGRADATION GIRLIES. Sunghoon's our main degrader and sometimes Heeseung would join in too, telling you that you are nothing more that just their personal sex toy. Angry sex would be the best with them, because duh? Mr Park Sunghoon of Usa just swearing so much into your ear and Mr "playboi" Lee Heeseung whispering the dirtiest shit ever. Heeseung would allow Sunghoon to go first and just sit back and watch as Sunghoon thrusts into you and all you do is whimper, with your hands ties tightly to the bed frame and your legs spread farther than my expectations (they're too far). Sunghoon, of course wouldn't allow you to cum ("Only good girls deserve to cum and you're not much one are you baby?), Until Heeseung gets up, having been getting off in the corner, and leans over your tired face, eyes almost about to roll to the back. "Shh baby." He would whisper, not wanting Sunghoon to hear him, "Hoonie didn't allow you to cum? Aww it's alright, I'll make you cum until it stains the entire bedsheet." And ofcourse Mr Lee would go in with his tongue, having decided that you had enough cock for one day and he made sure, that he got a taste of heaven that night, giving Sunghoon a bit of it too, afterwards.

JayKe/DoubleJ: Jay + Jake

Ahem. AHEM I COMMAND YOUR ATTENTION FOR THE MOST CONFUSING SEX YOU'LL EVER HAVE. Look, Jay and Jake are both sweethearts when it comes to sex and both of them can be like the most sub doms ever. So I'm thinking about you just domming both of them all the time, calling them your good boys. And I have a tingling that they would be THE SHYEST SUBS EVER like they would just mumble whenever they would want something. “Good boys use their words. You’re honestly pathetic.”, say that sentence and they're dead. They would continue fucking against your thigh, when you wouldn't allow them to fuck you , cocks growing red and even more sensitive. “Faster” You would spit, and they would whine yet obey at your commanding tone, hips snapping against your smooth thigh. Their hips would shake and stutter, and it would only be a few minutes. They would be leaking all over you and throbbing, pretty cocks a mess for you. JayKe are for all my dom girlies. (Who I am in love with please dom my pathetic sub ass)

Jayhoon - Jay+Sunghoon

Daddy kink is kinking saur much with this duo. They would love to spoil you so much like you're their little princess. Even under the sheets, they would treat you so much, making sure your cum lasts long. “Go ahead,” you would nod, when they'd wake you up in the middle of the night, begging to fuck you. Jay wouls start to kiss your neck, while Sunghoon would start rubbing your clit, with you moaning into the pillow. Before you know it, Sunghoon would put two fingers in you, while Jay would put his cock in from behind. “You love when we make you feel good, don’t you baby? You're our good girl aren't you? Our princess?” BAM you're dead. (I NEED THEM SO BAD)

JakeHoon: Jake + Sunghoon

Ah yes, the best friend duo of Enhypen. Honestly my brain is kinda short circuiting at what a threesome with them would be like, because they're the complete opposite of each other (as every best friend duo is lol). If you ever made Sunghoon jealous one day and going home he just doesn't talk to you at all and ignores you and ofcourse our Jake, being the sweetheart that he is tries to cheer you up, eating you out upstairs, without Sunghoon knowing and telling you to keep your moans in. But then again, Sunghoon being Sunghoon finds out about Jake having you all to himself and just sits in front of the bed, watching as Jake pushes deeper into your cunt, while your hands are tied to the bedframe and you're still not being allowed to moan to the point that tears start coming out. "I'm done. Wanna finish her?" Jake would say slowly pulling out and wiping his mouth. Sunghoon would just silently nod and get on top of you, spreading your legs, with his nails digging into your skin. "No cumming till I say so, alright?" He would glare into your soul, making you whimper. And the night would will away withe Jake and Sunghoon taking turns to put their cocks inside of you, not allowing you to cum until you're on your knees, begging like (in Sunghoon's words) their dumb cumslut. (Also meow look at the picture sosndnsjwi)

[g0dwat3rwritings]

Hi I’m sorry if this is too silly a request, but can you do savannaclaw and octavinelle (separately) x reader who has really soft cheeks and how they find out about their soft cheeks + what they do with this knowledge? Thank you! <3

Yup!

And if you haven't noticed, I quit colour-coding names and pronouns simply because I'm lazy

And this is my first time writing Ruggie and Jack so, please forgive me if they're bad 😭

The Reader is Yuu and is gender neutral

@nisobird because Azul is in this

Warnings ;; None

Relationship ;; Romantic

Type ;; Headcanons

OCTAVINELLE

Azul Ashengrotto ;; Octavinelle Housewarden ;; Second Year

Azul would more than likely find out during his overblot, although he wouldn't much care or notice it at the time.

With his magic, you'd get thrown to the ground and your cheek would squish up against the hard floor.

Upon returning to his normal self, his immediate reaction would be to run to you and tilt your face up toward him.

Despite still being in shock over what happened to him, he remembered how your cheeks squished up against the floor.

Despite how your cheeks don't look squishy, they are, and Azul takes total advantage of this.

After finding this out, he kisses your cheeks much more often.

Jade Leech ;; Octavinelle Vice-Housewarden ;; Second Year

Jade would've found out through his job at the Lounge

You'd more than likely bump into him and end up squishing your cheek against his back or his chest.

Upon learning this information, he'd be similar to Floyd in terms of reaction.

No matter who's around, what's going on, if it suits his needs, he'll randomly squish and your cheeks and give a light chuckle at your facial expression.

Floyd Leech ;; Octavinelle ;; Second Year

Floyd would more than likely find out from a normal squeeze.

He'd squeeze you, and because he's so tall, he'd feel your cheek squish against either, his own, or his chest.

He can and he will use this against you.

I would run if I were you.

He is not afraid to just randomly bite your cheeks, especially in front of people.

Your cheeks are like stress toys for him and don't even ask why.

He'll come running up to you while on break and just squish at your cheeks, he will not care who's around.

SAVANACLAW

Leona Kingscholar ;; Savanaclaw Housewarden ;; Third Year

Leona would most likely find out during a nap.

You'd try to wake him up and he'd try to swat you away, lightly smacking your cheek in the process.

After that, he immediately sat up before pulling you onto his lap.

He'd mess with your cheeks for a solid five minutes before laying back down and taking you with him.

It honestly took him by surprise, because your cheeks looked nowhere near as soft and squishy as they were.

Of course, he never actually made this known, simply laying back and going back to sleep with you in his lap.

Ruggie Bucchi ;; Savanaclaw ;; Second Year

Ruggie would have found out through a simple dare.

Using his signature spell on you and pinching his cheeks, and in return, making you pinch your own.

Ruggie would've immediately released the spell before taking your cheeks in between his pointer fingers and thumbs.

Just like the others, it took him by surprise.

And he will use it against you to get doughnuts, even though it's nothing to "use against you"

Jack Howl ;; Savanaclaw ;; First Year

Jack would more than likely find out through someone else.

He's very respectful of your boundaries and wouldn't ever want to cross them.

So when he sees Ace or Deuce squish at your cheeks, he asks you why.

You explain to him that your cheeks are just naturally soft and squishy, and that you really don't mind it.

Jack would nod and completely understand.

But even knowing this situation, he still wouldn't even touch you unless he had your firm, verbal permission.

[ninii-winchester]

Unveiled Sorrows (Part 7)

Pairing : Dean Winchester X Reader, Sam Winchester X Reader (Platonic), Dean Winchester X Lisa Braden (mentioned)

Word count : 2.9k

Warnings: angst, mentions of sex (soft smut), language, fluff, Taylor Swift reference (?)

A/n : This series follows canon plot line but some scenes might happen differently or be completely changed. Check the warnings for each part before continuing.

A/n 2: gif (1) from Pinterest. Credits to owner.

I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION TO COPY MY WORK, TRANSLATE IT OR POST IT TO ANY OTHER PLATFORM. REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED.

After the confrontation, Y/n went to her room and locked the door behind her. She let out soft sobs clearly distraught over what happened in the last hour. She sat on the ground with her back against the bed. She held onto Adeline as if she was going to disappear if she didn’t hold her tightly.

Dean paced in the hallway and he could her cries through the door. He has to make this right. He cannot live without her, not anymore. He's willing to do whatever it takes to make her trust him again. He knocked on the door twice waiting for her to open the door. Y/n looked away from the door pretending she didn't hear the knocks and hoped whoever it was might take a hint and leave.

"Sweetheart, open the door." She heard Dean's voice. "Baby please." He said softly. She didn't move at all. “Please." Dean begged.

Y/n sighed. There was no point in stalling. She can't trap herself in this room forever and the sooner she gets over with it, the better. She got up and unlocked the door but didn't open it. She sat on the bed with Adeline happily bouncing in her lap, unaware of all the chaos happening around her.

Dean heard the lock turn but the door didn't open, so he did it himself. He walked inside the room and sat beside her on the bed. Neither of them spoke. Adeline peeked at Dean's face with curious eyes. He smiled at the baby and she giggled in response. Dean could swear he has never fallen in love this fast. He has his whole world sitting beside him yet it seems so unreachable.

"Her name is Adeline Mary Winchester." Y/n spoke quietly. "She's four months old."

"She's perfect." He whispered.

Sitting beside him was too much. It was overwhelming her. Y/n put Adeline in her crib so she could play with her toys. Dean's eyes followed her as she stood and walked across the room. He walked the distance between them and stood behind her. He was too close, she could feel his chest pressing against her back.

"What do you want, Dean?" Her voice was low and strained.

"I want you. I want to be with our daughter." Dean whispered.

"I can't." She replied. He turned her so she was facing him. "Dean you shouldn't-" he didn't let her complete.

"Why should I not?" He asked.

"You shouldn't feel obligated to...you should have a family with the woman you love." She said moving away from him.

"You are the woman I love, that baby," he pointed to the crib, "we made that, she's the proof of our love."

"It wasn't love, Dean. It was just sex. Between hunting it was just a need." Y/n raised her voice a bit. She gasped as Dean grabbed her waist and pushed her against the nearest wall.

"You and I both know it wasn't just sex. What about the nights we shared other than on hunts, or the mornings after. Do you really think it was just sex when I could barely breathe without you." She averted her eyes from his.'

She knew it wasn't just sex. Maybe during hunts it was rough, to chase a release and let loose but she could vividly remember when he would go slow, his actions filled with passion, how he would hold her close when she would fall apart, tell her she means the world him. How he would wake her up with soft kisses and gentle touches. It was not just sex. 

"I know I was a coward. I thought I was protecting you, I guess I was just protecting myself from the inevitable heartbreak. I'm nothing without you, baby. Just a shell of a man. The past year, I've been holding onto the last thread of sanity. Living with Lisa and Ben, it was just familiarity. I would've gone mad had I been alone. I missed you like crazy, sweetheart. I love you so damn much." He said pressing his face in her neck, breathing her in.

"Dean." She sniffed. She pulled his head away from her neck. "As much as I want to, I can't keep you away from Adeline. You're her father. She deserves to have her father in her life. I can let you be a part of her life." He nodded and she continued. "You can't half ass it, either you're in or you stay gone. I don't want her to live off crumbs of her father.."

"Lisa and Ben, they..-" Dean started. "They're in danger." He can't just up and leave them alone to fend for themselves. The Djinn knows where they live and they can't even protect themselves.

"You have to make a decision, Dean."  Dean stepped back giving her, her space. Her heart broke. He's never going to choose her, is he? He always has something to choose over her. His conscience, his brother, the god damn world. It's anything but her. The look on her face was enough for Dean to know what she was thinking.

"Is there anything I can do to make it better?"

"Choose something, I've got nothing to believe unless you're choosing me."

"Why can't I..-" Dean rubbed his hands over his face. "Why can't I protect them and be with you.?"

"People riding in two boats usually end up drowning. And I won't let my daughter be collateral damage."

Dean looked at his daughter and something familiar in her crib caught his eye. It was his flannel that she was laying on.

"Is that..." he cleared his throat. "Is that my shirt?"

"Yeah, I wrapped her in it sometimes, just so she could somewhat feel the warmth of her father. Pathetic I know." Y/n chucked humourlessly.

"Can I hold her, please?." Dean asked though he wasn't sure if she'll let him. But he was willing to beg on his knees just so he could hold his daughter once.

"Go ahead." Her words caught him off guard. He didn't think she would, but then he wondered how tired she must've gotten of all the arguments, the tears and didn't have the energy to fight anymore.

Dean carefully picked up the baby girl supporting her head with his hand while he cradled her against his chest.

"Hey baby." He looked Adeline and he was mesmerised, in complete, utter awe. "You're so beautiful." He said gently rocking her. He would hold her as long as he could. Cherish the moment and brand it in his memory.

Y/n watched as Dean held Adeline. Why can't it always be like this. Why did he have to prioritise everything above their happiness. She's going to have to watch Adeline grow up without a father because he's too busy saving and protecting people. And this is why we can't have good things.

"I love you so much, my darling. You're my light. You're my angel. I wish I could've had more time you." Dean spoke to his baby who did not understand a single word. No thought behind those beautiful green eyes as she continued patting her father's tear stricken face.

Dean held his daughter for hours but for him it felt like a few minutes. Adeline started getting fussy since she was hungry and wanted her mother. Before Y/n could go over to him, he walked over to her. She scooped Adeline in her arms and brought her to her chest so she could breastfeed her. Dean looked away giving her privacy.

"I know I'm in no place to ask for favours but can I ask you for something?" Dean said still looking away from her.

"What is it?"

"Can we... pretend that everything is normal, just for today. Just you, me and our daughter?"

"I'd like that." She rasped. She knew she wants him. Just because she can't have him forever doesn't mean she can't pretend for one night. Dean was surprised but he didn't show it. A small smile graced his lips. A few moments pass in silence and Adeline was full.

"Do you want to... uh burp her?" Y/n asked uncomfortably. She wasn't sure why she did but that's what normal families do right? How would she even know. She's never known a 'normal' family.

"I'd love to but I don't know how." Dean rubbed his neck nervously. She grinned at his bashfulness.

"Here I'll teach you." She said standing up and making him stand too. She gave Adeline to him and put a towel on his shoulder. "Now you hold her up straight and pat her gently on the back." She showed him how to do it and he hesitantly tried. Addy let out a little burp and y/n cooed at her daughter. "See." She smiled at Dean who looked proud of himself.

"That wasn't so bad. I couldn't have messed that up." Dean grinned.

"Yeah yeah." She sat back on the bed.

Dean laid Adeline on the bed in the middle and laid on his stomach to watch his little angel. He pressed kisses to her cheeks and forehead. He kissed her little feet and feigned biting that made the baby giggle. Y/n had a huge smile on her face as she watched him play with her. Dean blew raspberries on her stomach. Adeline flailed her tiny arms and legs as he did that.

"You continue doing that and she'll throw up on your face." Y/n chuckled warning him.

"She would not." Dean gasped. "You wouldn't do that to daddy would you, my angel?" Dean asked Addy.

"She might." Y/n smiled and sighed sitting back against the headboard. No matter how much they pretend it would all come to an end soon. "Also, sorry to cut you fun short but it's time for her to sleep."

"Already?" Dean whined like a child.

"Its nine pm, Dean. You've been playing with her for hours." She reminded him softly. Dean truly lost track of time while being with his daughter. "You can put her to bed."

She watched as Dean rocked her back and forth, lulling her to sleep. Her heart constricted in her chest. Why did they have to sacrifice everything. It wasn't their fault they were hunters. This life was thursted upon them, they had no say in it. Why couldn't they live a normal life where everyone was safe and happy. Dean started humming a song and she recognised it as 'Hey Jude by The Beatles', he’d told her, it was the song his mom sang to him. Y/n watched Adeline's eyes droop as she laid her head on her father's shoulder. Mintues later she was fast asleep. Dean laid her in her crib and leaned over to whisper.

"Good night baby. The angels are watching over you." That made y/n suck in a deep breath at that. His mother used to tell him that every night.

In another world, Dean Winchester would've been an amazing father to Adeline Winchester.

Y/n got settled into bed and got under the covers. Dean noticed and couldn't help but ask.

"You're sleeping? You haven't even eaten."

"I'm exhausted. I just need sleep." Dean knew his luck was in overtime, he shouldn't be asking for more. He couldn't stop his tongue before he blurt out.

"Can I stay?" His question shocked them both. But what's done is done. He said what he said. He waited in anticipation for her answer. He knew he pushed his luck. To make it less awkward for both of them it was better if he left. He turned to leave but her voice stopped him.

"Stay, Dean." Those two were enough for him to kick off his shoes and get into bed with her. They had a decent distance between them. Y/n stared at ceiling while he stared at her. "She's a good woman. She'll keep you happy." She whispered in the silence.

"I don't want to talk about that." He replied grabbing her waist and pulling her into him. His other arm going under her head so her head was laying on his shoulder. She didn't protest. She let him pull her closer. God knows she wanted to be in his arms just as much.

"Why did it have to be us?" She wondered out loud.

"I don't know baby. But I know it all sucks." Dean replied hiding his face in her neck.

"You got old." She chuckled lightly.

"Huh?" Dean asked looking at her.

"You got your ass handed to you at poker by some witch and you turned old." She laughed, a real laugh.

"I'm going to kill Sam." Dean groaned but smiling nonetheless.

"You've got a bit of stubble." She cupped his face and caressed his cheek with her thumb.

"Yeah well I was on the verge of being killed by a Djinn so I'm sorry if I didn't have time to shave." He sassed.

"It's alright. I like it." Dean continued to gaze at her lovingly, his hands caressing her bare skin. "Dean." He hummed in response. "I love you."

"I love you. So much." He whispered, he thought if he spoke too loudly the spell would break and he won't be where he was.

"Love me goodbye." Y/n said her voice barely audible.

"Don't say that." Dean begged.

"Please." He doesn't know whether it was the way she looked at him or the way she said it but something in him snapped and he pressed his lips to hers. It wasn't like any kiss they've shared. They've had their fair share of passionate kisses but this was slow and sensual. Dean hovered above her leaning on his arms placed on either side of her head. She grabbed the back of his head pulling him even closer if that was possible.

"Dean." She gasped as the broke apart.

"It's okay baby, I've got you." He said placing open mouthed kisses on her neck. "I'm here." He assured her between kisses.

It was only a matter of seconds, their clothes were strewn across the room. Her heavy pants and breaths filled the room as Dean kissed all over her body. Starting from her collarbone, her chest, moving down to her stomach.

"Dean."

"What do you want, sweetheart?" Dean asked grabbing her hips.

"You, Dean. I want you."

"You have me sweetheart, I'm right here." He kissed and nipped at her jaw. "As long as you want me. I'm here." His deep voice sending jolts throughout her body.

"I need to feel you." She whimpered.

"Is that what you want, baby?" He slid his hand down over her body. She nodded eagerly. He didn't waste a second to give her what she wanted. She gasped at the sudden intrusion. One of his hands intertwined with hers and his other arm was propped on his elbow as he moved the hair from her face. "There's that pretty face. There's my angel." He cooed snapping his hips against hers.

"Oh Dean." She dragged her nails down his back.

"I know baby, i know." Dean captured her lips in a searing kiss. "Close?" He asked against her lips never wavering or pulling away. She nodded, lost in his loving. "Go ahead, give it to me." And the coil snapped. She let go with a loud moan of his name, Him following behind. He shivered resting his on her forehead. "You okay?"

"Yeah." She whispered and whimpered at the lost of contact as he rolled off her. He cleaned himself and helped clean up her. He put on his boxers before he got into bed with her. They both knew everything ends here now, for now they could only hold onto each other. She rested her head on his bare chest and drifted off to sleep. Dean didn't sleep, he didn't want this night to end. He stayed awake and cherished this moment for as long as he could.

A loud cry distracted him from his thoughts. Y/n groaned pushing the covers from her body.

"I've got her, you go back to sleep." He gently pushed her back to lay down.

"Dean-"

"Sleep sweetheart, I've got her." He kissed her forehead before getting out of bed. He walked over to the crib and picked up Addy. "Alright alright, daddy's here. Shh now." He said bouncing her lightly. Her cries died down slowly as he sang a lullaby to her. He looked at his baby sleeping on his chest and the woman sleeping in the bed. He could get used to it. After Addy fell asleep again, Dean went back to join Y/n in bed as wrapped his body over hers like a second skin. "I love you."

The next morning Y/n woke up at six am. Her eyes fluttered open, she looked around and realised, her bed was the same as her heart. Empty.

Tags:

@spnfamily-j2 @galway-girlatwork @deangirl96 @queensilber

@s0urw00lf @monkey-d-hoshizora98 @deans-baby-momma @fullbelieverheart

@riah1606 @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @hobby27

[demonbanger]

𝔇𝔬𝔫’𝔱 𝔣𝔯𝔢𝔱 𝔭𝔯𝔢𝔠𝔦𝔬𝔲𝔰 ℑ’𝔪 𝔥𝔢𝔯𝔢 |

ft. sex demon ! 𝗘𝗨𝗦𝗧𝗔𝗦𝗦 𝗞𝗜𝗗 | 🌶 🔞 MDI

“𝙄𝙛 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙘𝙖𝙣’𝙩 𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙙𝙡𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙩, 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙨𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙 𝙠𝙣𝙤𝙬 𝙗𝙚𝙩𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙣 𝙩𝙤 𝙗𝙤𝙤𝙩𝙮 𝙘𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙝𝙚𝙡𝙡.” — E. Kid, to you

synopsis: on a lonely night you decide to get a bit buzzed and think, fuck it, why not try to summon a sex demon? Turns out to be either the biggest blessing, or biggest mistake you’ve made in a while.

♫: click for inspo song

pairing: Incubus! Kid x Fem! Reader (no physical description of reader, except hair that can be pulled)

cw: *inhales* demon summoning, bully Eustass, brat taming, blood + pain play, cunnilingus, drinking mention, predator x prey, breeding, dacryphilia, dumbification, belly bulge, overstimulation, praise + degradation, size kink af with our 6’7 king, use of pet names, insane stamina, gets softer at the end

tags: @goshitshardtohaveagoodname @nikos-a-clown @pinkcrystal-rose

© Writing & Imagery in this is my intellectual property. Do not plagiarize or repost to other platforms without my permission. Love, DemonBanger

______

You stuff your fingers in your dribbling pussy, but just could not get yourself full enough. You felt like such a horny bastard tonight, with so much sexual desperation, and finally decided you wanted to start masturbating again. But nothing worked like when you first started; you’ve just been single for too long and miss the feeling of real cock.

Even a dildo couldn’t do the trick anymore. You needed the real thing, with pumping veins and harsh thrusts, attached to a heavy man that pressed you into the mattress, with low grunts and dirty words moaned lowly into your ear.

You sigh in frustration and set the toys down, taking a swig out of some whiskey to let it take over more of your senses. The liquor burns so beautifully going down your throat…too bad there wasn’t another hot liquid also sinking down your oral cavity.

The familiar floaty headspace seeps in like an old friend that you keep away at arm’s length, as your heartbeat drums in your warm chest. Buzzed you feels like a dragon waking from a slumber, with old runes in the form of dumb ideas filling your brain.

“Might as well fucking summon a sex demon at this point,” you mutter. The idea rolls over in your head for a few minutes, and the curiosity of trying something crazy and reckless like this gets more and more appealing to your buzzed brain, until eventually you think: Wait. Fuck it, what if I tried it at least? You laugh to yourself.

What would you have to lose anyways? Just your soul? You don’t even feel like you have one these days until you drink good old caffeine.

You tap the safari icon on your phone, to research how one would even go about summoning an incubus, and take another swig to invite the madness more.

A few forums say the same thing. People asking if you actually want to invite such a thing into your life, some dude talking about how his wife cheated on him with one of those entities and was never the same after that. Hahah…cuck.

You scoff. You have existential crises every day, no sex demon can fuck your life up like you feel you can. Demons, where you at? It’s ya boi. You think about the meme and cackle way too hard for something so unfunny and possibly life-threatening.

Then you scroll over a comment that is long with a lot of upvotes on it. It looks serious. Seems legitimate. There are no comments underneath, but it reads like a serious spell book.

Eh, why not? You laugh again. The comment warned against masturbating beforehand to make sure your sexual energy was at its peak to really invite any sexual spirits. Welp, already fucked that up, so if this doesn’t work at least you could have something fun to do and then tire yourself out and call it a night.

Then you read how it involves extracting blood from a few…sources such as the tongue and pussy and you wonder if there’s a better way. A paper cut on any of those things sounds gross. Eek.

You look over YouTube and find the first video that pops up. The speaker sounds experienced, and says that it’s much simpler than any methods. Just make a request to the demon Asmodeus by reaching a meditative state, and adamantly focusing on his name.

Simple enough. You try and make sure your room is a little tidy, burn a couple of cutesy candles, and dress in a black spiked collar and a cute, lacey red lingerie set you got yourself a little while back. Scarlet garters hold up soft thigh highs that bring out your thighs and make your lower body look extra luscious. You take in this moment of feminine confidence. What are you? You’re a bad bitch. And what are you about do? Get fucked.

You sit prettily on your bed, take another swig of the burning drink, shake your hips in excitement, close your eyes, and make the signature meditation pose. You even put the sigil of Asmodeus on your laptop to better reach him. Look at you, doing the most. Then, you bite your lip in concentration and your buzzed brain is slow enough to focus on one thing slowly.

Asmodeus. Asmodeus. Asmodeus, are you with me? You think with intention.

Just as you thought. No answer. You continue.

Asmodeus, I know I never spoke to you in my life. I’m Y/n, I know this is silly but I don’t mind giving up some of my energy to get fucked voraciously by a demon boy. An incubus please. Is that ok?

You wait for an answer, peep at the candles. They’re just flickering normally. You try not to psych yourself into micro analyzing the movement of the little flames. Drunk you could do that all night. But you need to keep focused. Then you continue.

Hopefully it is ok, Mr. Asmodeus. I don’t know if I need to give up my blood n shit. I’m just a little drunk girl and honestly I’ve given up so much life energy to toxic exes at this point, you don’t need to warn me,, I know I’m rambling, but uh, yeah. I don’t give a fuck. But also, respectfully, make sure he wants me too. That shit’s hot. Do you even hear me at this point?

A chill up your spine stops you from thinking further. It’s such a chill that you shiver. It’s the same sensation in your nerves that you’d feel if someone ran a finger along your entire sensitive spine. Your window isn’t open.

There’s no way.

Good talk, you think. Don’t know what the fuck that was.

You sigh, keeping yourself open for answers. Maybe he’s thinking? Who knows. For a second you almost feel a little silly for getting all dressed and stuff.

Then you feel a chill up your spine, only more intense. Your hairs stand on end. It’s kind of spooky. You’re drunk though so you’re in more of a relaxed, “oh no!!! anyways” sort of mindset. But none of your windows are open and you haven’t turned on the AC all day.

You take another swig out of the bottle and your face burns. You’re sure your eyes are a bit bloodshot, face flushed. You think about what a male demon would say if he saw you. Probably something like—Put the bottle down, sweetheart.

You cackle in your mind. Sorry about that, daddy, gotta have fun.

Keep calling me that, I like it, the thought says a bit louder in your mind, purring more sexily than you’ve ever imagined a man sounding. Wait, did you make that up or are you tripping?

Dumbass.

You open your eyes again. So that was your imagination…or was it? There’s a little bit of doubt in your mind. Either way your imagination is vivid and you crack yourself up.

Damn it, you play too much, now your drunk ass can’t even tell what’s someone telepathically communicating to you and what’s you imagining someone telepathically communicating to you.

You clear your throat a little.

“Oi, am I wasting my time? Am I making this up? Give me a sign or show yourself , but don’t like scare me, or else I’m just going to sleep.” You try to speak clearly and confidently.

Your head whips around to the wall at something suddenly in your peripheral, and you notice a little area starts to glow, brighter and brighter. It’s a sigil. The same one you put on your computer moments ago. It’s very slow. Your heart feels like it’s in your fucking throat as you blink extra hard. Nope, still there. Holy fuck??

You swallow, slightly nervous besides your sense of fear being dulled down.

A gasp leaves your throat at a sudden tapping noise coming straight from the sigil. A fist punches through your wall, except not actually punching through its material. The glowing sigl must be some sort of portal. You let out a shocked squeal as the fist shakes around the air of your room. The clawed hand opens and the body attached steps out.

“The fuck was that?”

Oh lord. He’s huge. And above all else, irresistibly sexy.

The demon stands before you, towering over most of your room proudly, a wild crown of red hot hair adorning his head. The candlelight flickers wildly as he looks directly at you. His handsome features complete with sharp eyes like glowing amber surrounded by darkness, almost dragon-like. Is that…lipstick? And guyliner. Another shiver runs through you at how attracted you are to this creature from hell. You must’ve made Asmodeus laugh and scored the jackpot in return. That sharp nose.. with the pretty bumps on the side…you wonder how it would feel riding it.

He’s wearing a coat trimmed with maroon fur, that still leaves little to the imagination as his entire muscular, giant torso is bare with a sheen that accentuates carved abs, perhaps sweat because hell is hot. Black pants with chains hang low on his hips. You don’t see visible wings but are sure he can make them appear if he wanted.

Just, holy shit.

Dark maroon lips smirk. His voice is raspy, a little tired, a little indifferent, but the look in his eyes says otherwise. “So…you gonna just keep staring at me all night and get off that way, or?”

You bite your lip. He’s so fucking smug. Your pussy starts pooling more wetness than already built up.

“I-well, yeah, you just appeared through my fucking wall,” you roll your eyes, not submitting so easily. “The hell did you expect?”

The demon flashes a mouth full of beautiful, dangerous teeth.

“Pretty little minx, and a smart mouth on ya too. I guess he was right it’d be worth bothering the admiral of the legions, can’t wait to fuck the brattiness out of you.”

Black, ornate trousers that appear punk and shredded to bits sway as he steps closer to your bed.

“Oh, Careful—” you warn but one of his beautiful, tall, twisty horns hits your ceiling fan, and you find it comical how a 7 foot tall demon is cursing at hitting his left horn in your room.

His eyes squint at you. “Fucking brat. Laughing at me, not even telling me your name. I could drag a rude little mortal like you to hell and eat you alive for lack of manners,” he drawls, little to no venom in his words, his voice so deep and rich you almost get lost in it for a moment. Little does he know you want him to eat you alive.

“Oh—, I mean you’re right, sorry sir,” you spit out the sorry as sarcastically as possible, “I’m Y/n, what’s your name?”

He eyes your thighs clenching together and a mocking chuckle bubbles in his chest. “Name’s Kid. But you, little thing, can call me Eustass for tonight when I’m impaling you on my cock.”

A little whimper is forced out of you at how dirtily he spoke, like he made an incantation to turn you on instantly. “Eustass,” you try out, making precum drip out of him more than he’d like to admit. Your eyes flit down to his cock that he mentioned, then back up. He knows you were staring. And he’s so damn smug about it too, because the big guy’s bulge looks absolutely huge.

He looks over at the toys on your bed and scoffs, picking up your dildo, and eyeing it snarkily. Your face burns in indignation at his wolfish, leering smirk.

“Oh princess. Might as well throw these—“ he locates your trash bin, “right here. Because I’m gonna fucking ruin them for you. And you can kiss any man’s dick goodbye.” He drops your sex toys into the trash like a mic drop.

And you’re not even mad. Your thighs shift against the fabric of your bodysuit to gain any sort of friction, so turned on from imagining what’s to come.

“Yeah? You like that? I can just smell how much that turned you on. Such a pathetic, needy, desperate slut. You in heat or something?”

You can only nod your head.

He makes his way back to the bed, walking like he has all the time in the world, and you eye him for how beautiful and dangerous he is, oozing sex appeal. He also eyes you hungrily, like a starved carnivore eyeing its new living meal. Heat from hell radiates off of him, and he smells otherworldly; almost sweet; with notes of pure musk, steel, blood, leather, sweat, and desire.

(You don’t know that the pheromones you’re releasing have a similar effect on him, but he wants to make you beg and whimper; mewl, cry, break).

You take in shaky breaths, not because those fangs could rip chunks out of you if he wanted to…well, that’s hot too.

Kid grabs your bottle of whiskey from your mattress, eyeing you with pure hunger as he gets so close to you, and sets it on the floor. “That’s gonna break if it stays on your bed.” He dips his head closer to you, inhales again to smell your arousal, and his eyes roll shut.

“A-are we gonna have a safeword? I’m not paying any hospital bills if you break my body,” you finally speak up, voice pitch heightened from horniness.

He scoffs. “How fucking adorable, such a needy stupid baby, you didn’t even think before making a contract with someone who could do whatever he wants with you no?” the redhead strokes your thigh as he sounds so mean and condescending, large clawed hand gripping your upper leg, squeezing your supple flesh. His breathing is heavy. Fiery eyes peer down into your soul as he pauses.

“Spikes.” He feels your collar, humming in approval. “But just know, you signed up to be fucked. And drained.” His blackened thumb traces over your bottom lip as he holds your chin. “If you can’t handle the heat, you should know better than to booty call hell.”

“Mhmm,” you say, nodding in his hold, tongue darting out to caress his finger. Kid snarls.

Just like that, a large palm presses on your sternum and shoves you down onto the bed. He yanks you by the hips to the edge of the mattress with a bruising grip, and bucks his clothed hips into yours sharply, trouser-covered bulge slapping your pussy roughly, eliciting a whine from your throat.

“Gonna keep your neighbors up with us all night just like this,” he growls, bucking onto you, hands tracing your hips, fingers dipping under your bodysuit to caress your soaking core.

“Wet kitty, so fucking sinful.” He pulls out his fingers, separating them and admiring how your slick strings up and drips down his hand. Then, glowing eyes gaze into yours as a long, sharp, forked tongue licks your essence up, cleaning them in one stroke. You throb. He tosses his trench coat to the floor and you admire his giant, muscular body. Thick neck you want to scratch up. Giant muscles carved of porcelain and littered with scars that you want to bite and paint even prettier. A fallen angel of vermillion, ready to stab you in the dark, drag you down in lust and weeping to your personal circle of heavenly hell.

Without another word, he dips his head down and snaps the crotch of your bodysuit open leaving you with no room to think. He flattens his large, forked tongue and licks a broad, wet stripe over your sopping cunt.

“ ‘s cunny’s mine,” he breathes, and begins his attack on you with his mouth, squeezing your thighs, large tongue teasing into you.

“Yes it’s all—, ohhhh~” He pulls out and shoves two huge fingers with painted fingernails into your entrance, stretching you out and making you arch your back from the sudden stimulation, pussy smushing into his face further. He growls again, feral in nature, the vibrations going straight to your clit as he intently watches your reactions. Wide tongue lapping at your clit, swirling, making you speak in tongues and whimper at how full you are. You do not regret summoning a demon at all.

He adds a third impossibly thick finger and scissors them in and out of you, then impatiently thrusts his tongue back in to fuck you, massaging every little nook and cranny of your textured walls. Swirling up, and up, and up until your brain rots inside your skull and you’re roughly grabbing handfuls of his hair.

You hear him groan a prideful, muffled “Good girl,” as his nose bumps into your clit so snugly. Your eyes roll back at the praise. It’s too much, all of it is too much. And yet, you need more, more, more, please, please, please. His tongue hits a tender spot that makes you jolt and begins to attack it in a full-fledged assault, causing you to snap your gaze back to him and buck your hips greedily into him.

Greedy. He likes that. He likes how greedy your cunt is, because he’s just as greedy for you. Your thighs clench around his head when he shakes his face, soaked in your juices, side to side to rub your clit with his nose pressed tightly to you. “E-Eustass!” you call out for him, all strangled, and a purr rumbles in his thick chest.

In response, he only clenches your thighs tighter around his face, continuing to torture you with his pink tongue that’s long and mobile like a fucking tentacle.

You cry out as talonesque nails dig into your thighs and little pricks of blood come out, but he doesn’t care. And neither do you. You grind on him, head swimming in lust, probably only worsening the pinprick wounds. He leans back with you and completely sits down on the floor beneath, holding the entire weight of your body on top of his face with the strength of a powerful war demon.

He slides you up and down, and you tremble, spots of white flecking your vision as you ride his face, smearing your never ending slick to his insatiable delight.

His amber eyes glare at you, urging you to let go and come undone on top of him. Yet mocking you for needing to cum so soon.

And that’s what you do, shaking violently, curling over him, death grip on his scarlet tresses, as he groans at how delicious you taste. The orgasm washes over you so hard you almost fall slack, almost, as your moans fall silent from your circuits sparking. He drinks up all the essence you have to offer, lips smacking at how delicious you are, deep “Mmmhfuck” causing your nipples to perk.

He stands back up and sets you back down on the bed, unzipping his pants.

You’re lightheaded from the most amazing orgasm of your entire life, gazing at the ceiling as static fills your brain in ocean waves of dumbified pleasure.

Then your mouth gapes open at the sight in front of you. Beautifully red pubes trail right over his giant hand, fisting the biggest cock you’ve seen.

“Ngh, t-too big,” you whimper.

“Oh, I’m shocked you can speak,” he laughs darkly.

“Barely,” you try to prop yourself up on your elbows, but it’s so difficult and you fall back down.

He laughs at you, humiliating you in his stare. “Such a weak kitten,” the demon mocks you in faux sympathy.

You feel as though you nutting just now made you so insanely tired.

“Just lay back, dollface, you’re giving daddy life energy as a snack. Gonna make you even prettier, so dumb you can’t even speak.”

Before you can protest, he’s spearing you with his cockhead, ripping a loud moan from your throat.

He’s merciless, as no god has shown him, a fallen angel, any mercy. So why should he, an incubus leeching off of your sexual energy, show any mercy to a cunt that’s all his and swallows him in just right.

He continues to sink into you, and your nails pay him back by digging into him now, in his meaty forearms.

Kid’s tongue darts out over his crimson lips.

“Keep,” he thrusts out slightly, admiring the way you grip him, “fucking,” he thrusts back in all the way, making you shriek, “taking it.” The pain is so much, too much, the stretch fucking burns at how large of a cock is intruding you, but he hammers into you without regards to your comfort or pleasure. He’s the one using you, fucking you like you’re his breathing flesh light, like you’re the one working for him though he’s the escort demon. Ramming in, threatening to fuck right into your cervix, overload. You’re clamping down, your walls are rejecting him. It makes him curse loudly at how hard it is for him to move, but he’s stronger than a mere human, so ever the sadist, Kid pumps in regardless.

The pain of his unrelenting, selfish thrusts starts to turn slowly into pleasure, and the fullness and overwhelming stretch feels delicious. Your mind turns dumb and you start to whine.

“M-more,” you moan, and he grabs your tit harshly, twisting your nipple painfully, making tears rush to your eyes. He does so to the other tit, then slaps them roughly. You whimper his name, back arching like an exorcism in progress. Except exiting you, this demon is not.

“Yeah? You need some more, you selfish brat?” He growls, pace deepening and quickening. “Don’t you worry, I’m not going anywhere, not until the sun is up.” His hips snap against yours, and his nails rake down your body to fold your thighs against your chest, his crushing weight pinning you to the bed. Your mattress hitting the wall. You struggle to catch the breath that’s knocked out of you in this position.

“Fucking look at me,” he suddenly jibes, and you obediently make eye contact with him. “Now don’t you dare fucking look away or quiet those pretty noises. I want to make you scream.”

He’s going at an inhuman speed, and so fucking deep in this mating press, and hits the spot that made you cum before. His balls slapping against your ass, making you scream.

“Eustass! Eustass! Please, please, please, yes, Nnnn! Please!” You beg him to keep going, as he growls, “fuck yes, beg, princess, beg for this fucking cock,” his thrusts getting sloppier as your cunt tightens around him. Your eyes roll back a little, as he’s fucking you dumb.

“Ah!!!” You yelp, as he roughly slaps your ass.

“What did I fucking tell you?” Eustass snarls, and you bite your lip, face flushed as he glowers at you.

“T-to, to uh, look at you,” you say dumbly, gasping for air.

“That’s a smart girl,” he rubs your clit, making you squirm, and he condescendingly coos down at you, “so why don’t you look at me as I wreck you, hmm?”

His body is so big, so hot, he’s so heavy and wide as your poor legs stretch to accommodate his wide shoulders while he opens you like a flower and pounds into you. He smells so fucking good, you think, and you want him to cum inside of you and claim you as his, and you struggle but do your best to keep looking into his wild eyes. He’s absolutely feral, so intimidating, and your body rocks at his severity so you grasp the base of his horns. A little moan leaves him, and if he wasn’t pressed up so close to you, flooding up all of your thoughts and walls and senses, it would have gone undetected.

A darkness takes over his eyes. “Now you’ve fucking done it,” his voice drops ever lower, and he pulls out. Flips you over onto your hands and knees, pulls your hips to face the ceiling, and bottoms back in in one thrust. The new angle has you screaming and moaning his name, “EU—fuck!!!!” You whimper loudly, and he pushes your head down into the covers.

“Yeah—this pussy—is all—fucking mine—you hear that?” he rumbles in between thrusts, slapping your ass again as he arches your back impossibly, balls slapping your cunt. You’re too dumb to understand what he’s saying and he knows that. Your slick is everywhere between the two of you and it’s making him absolutely drunk and feral.

You’re unable to speak real words, you’re babbling and you claw the sheets as he batters your insides over and over like a battering ram. Tears and drool are soaking the covers beneath you, as you moan while you let him use you. He kneads and slaps your ass again. “Look at me.” He reminds you harshly.

You weakly turn your head to look back at him, blubbering, and his pointy, evil grin sends a jolt straight to your core again.

“You’re my fucking pet, and any man you let have this,” he makes a slicing movement with his finger over his throat. “Got it?”

You’re so gorgeous, hair plastered to your forehead and all wild, face flushed and teary, eyelashes fluttering up at him, gasping, as you whimper, “y-yes, Eustass, I belong to you,” and his deep thrusts slow luxuriously.

“Good girl,” he grabs a fistful of your hair and pulls you up until your back meets his sweaty inferno of a chest. He rubs more circles on your puffy, abused clit and you squirm from the buzzing overstimulation of another impending orgasm. He eats up how you clench around him, and as your head spins dizzily from him still thrusting up into you deeply, he sinks his teeth into your right shoulder, claiming you.

You cry out weakly from the pain, and spasm around him like a voodoo victim and he lazily fucks you through your second orgasm, enjoying how you make a mess all over his hand.

“Oh, that’s so sexy,” he groans, lapping at the blood on your shoulder, as you squirt all over his arm, and his cock is absolutely drenched, dripping down to his balls. He moans and with a few more thrusts, stills. He fills you up with hot cum.

The giant incubus turns you both around, you still out of breath, dumb, on his cock. “Look here.” He says, like Virgil from Dante’s Inferno showing the writer the lustful circle of hell.

You peer at your reflection in the mirror. You, so fucked out, almost unrecognizable, crying, glowing, lips plump from biting them. A huge bite mark on your shoulder. Bruised hips. Both of you scratched up with a little bit of blood. Legs shaking as you’re sitting pretty on his cock, a bulge evident in your tummy. His huge hands encircling you, him, possessively overshadowing you. He’s so much bigger than you, his width eclipsing you in the reflection.

You lean your head back tiredly. He whispers lowly into your ear. “ ‘M only just getting started with you, but look at how pretty you are as my pet, yeah? This is what I’m gonna see every single night, aren’t you excited?”

You tiredly turn your head to smoosh into his pillowy chest, his smell overpowering your senses, and you look up to him. “This is all I need,” you whisper back.

He sets you down on wobbly legs and holds you up a little. He cups your jaw in his giant hand, and the white of his canines shines. His lipstick is slightly smeared. He looks gorgeous, sinister, a glowing star of red, black, amber, and pale skin.

Then he kisses you, in a way that’s startlingly soft and passionate, in his ferocious way because Eustass is, well, Eustass. He pulls away, eyes glittering darkly.

“That’s the right response, darling.”

———————————————————————-

TO BE CONTINUED 🏴‍☠️ -> part 2!

[wint3r-h3art]

The Sweetest Thing

Summary: It’s your Steve’s birthday, and you let him do whatever he wants to you.

Word count: 2.0K

Warning: SHAMELESS SMUT!! Steve is being nasty & unhinged. Oral (male receiving), face-fucking, & vaginal sex, creampied, Dirty talk (ooc ??? lol)

A/N: It’s that time of the year where I write Steve’s fic again, folks! Hope you liked it!  Please do heed the warning that this Steve is a bit OOC. Also, it’s been a while that I write anything, so I please be kind. I’m a little rusty. No beta either, so if I missed anything, I apologize in advance. Reblog & comment is greatly appreciated and mean so much!!

** Do not copy, repost, or translate my works anywhere else !!

Hot and humid breath danced across your skin as his lips traced along the column of your neck, leaving trails of goosebumps in its wake. The heat from his body radiated off of him and enveloped you with nothing but his scent lacing with the sweetness of the wine–fresh, sweet, and warm just like the month of July.  

His large palm grasped at your soft mound, squeezing gently at first before he let it trailed off along your waist then down and around the swell of your ass. Steve’s hand lingered there for a long moment before he gave you a big squeeze. 

You melted into his touches–completely surrendering yourself to him. After all, it was his birthday, and you did promise him that he could use you however he wanted. 

A surprised yelp slipped past your lips as he lifted you briefly and pressed your body against the wall. You hissed at the duality between the warmness of his hard body and the cold wall.

His hardness pressed against your aching pussy as it throbbed at the emptiness, wishing he would fill you up with that thick cock of his. Every part of you was so hyper-aware of him, it was almost painful. 

Another shuddering moan left your lips when you felt his teeth graze gently along your jawline. Sweet nothing muttered under his breath like an incantation, lulling you further into this haze. Your arms snaked around his neck as if you were holding on to the last sanity he left you with as he began to grind his bulge right into your needy pussy. 

Your soft whimper filled the room as the grinding continued. You wished he would give you more–anything, even if it was just the tip of his finger.

But you were at the mercy of his will when you said the words out loud the morning of his birthday.

Use me. Let me be your toy tonight. 

Normally Steve would have blushed and flustered, but after all the teasing you have been doing to him for the past couple of days, he was more than ready to retaliate.

“Need you,” you managed to whimper out loud as he was sucking on your pulse point. “Please…”

Steve didn’t answer. Instead, his mouth trailed down to wrap around your stiff nipple, tugging gently at it until you whined in protest. His cheeks hollowed to create suction around your sensitive mound, sucking so loudly that it was the only sound that filled your ears.

Thoughts of the others walking in on both of you didn’t really cross your mind until now. What would Bucky and Sam think of you in this state of undress with lipstick smeared across your lips and being used by Steve like this? 

“You’re thinking too hard again, sweetheart,” Steve murmured. “Thought you’re supposed to be my fuck toy. Fuck toy don’t think, remember?”

Under normal circumstances, you would have said something back to him, but it was his birthday, and you did give him permission to do whatever he wants. Plus, hearing Steve say those filthy words out loud just makes your pussy throb even harder for him. He had always been Mr. Perfect–so prim and proper, rarely cussed. Oh but now, you got him so worked up and so needy, that you got to see another side of Steve. 

“Stevie, please…,” you pleaded as you ground your pussy against him, but he suddenly pushed you back and held you there as he stared at you with dark pupils blown wide, drowning out those baby blues.

“Why don’t you be a good girl and get on that table for me?”

You hastily climbed up the table and laid there, thighs spread apart so that Steve could get a clear view of your drenching pussy. 

“Baby girl, you’re so wet for me…” he said under his breath. His cheeks flushed deep red as he stalked toward you with big strides. 

You could clearly see the impressive tent of his bulge pressing against the pants, almost to the point where the button was about to pop out. 

Steve noticed that you were staring, and he made it a show as he began to unbutton his shirt carelessly, popping off the buttons as they scattered across the floor. Your breath hitched in your throat as you watched the way his stiff muscles glistened under the light.

You eyed the dark blond hair that dusted along the hard ridges of his abdomen and swallowed as it disappeared under his waistband. Every molecule in your body practically screamed for him, yet Steve took his time climbing up the dining table.

Your breath hitched in your throat as he knelt astride your body. You watched him carefully as he began to undo his pants. You found yourself licking your lips when he took out his cock and started to stroke it mindlessly. He was already long and hard, and you just knew he was going to fuck your brain out.

Without a thought, you reached out to him, wanting to stroke him as well, but Steve suddenly pinned you down. His breath fanned across your face as he stared down at you.

“Since you want to be used by me so much, why don’t you be a good girl and open your mouth for me? Let me see how good of a fuck toy you are for me, baby girl.” 

Steve moved to knelt astride your head, his hand pumped along his shaft lazily as he waited for you to open up. 

Without a word of protest, you opened your mouth for him, and Steve took his time, probing the fat pink tip of his cock against your lips, teasing and smirking as you struggled to wrap your lips around him. Not a second too long, he caved in and began to push the head inside your mouth, watching you slowly swallow him inch by inch until you couldn’t anymore.

He let out a strangled moan as you began to suck on him. His eyes rolled to the back of his skull at the sensation. Steve muttered something incoherently as the desirous fire burst through his body and straight through his balls. 

“Such a good fuck toy you are, sweetie…just look at the way you’re sucking my cock makes me wanna come already…,” he said as he continues to roll his hips, fucking your mouth as you lay there. 

You couldn’t answer him except for the soft moaning against his dick in your mouth, and Steve felt like he was about to come then and there. Every part of him was straining from the effort of holding it in alone. 

You gagged and choked several times when Steve fucked into your mouth too deep. He was nice enough to pull back and let you catch your breath while he examined his work, watching you turn into an incoherent mess under him. Oh what a sight, he mused as he watched the way your eyes were tearing up and the way your makeup got ruined by him. 

“Look at you so eager to suck my cock…You want to be fucked hard, don’t you sweetie?”

You nodded eagerly, wiping your face as you sat up and hiking your dress even further up. 

“Please, Stevie….I need you so bad,” you whined. “I’ve been so good for you, so please…?”

“Please what?” he smirked, his fingers trained down to your drenching pussy, stroking at the slippery seam. He would occasionally press the tip of his fingers against your folds and pushed them in just enough to make you whine, but not enough to draw out any pleasure. He was a tease, alright. 

“Please fuck me,” you pleaded, rolling your hips to meet his fingers.

Steve pretended to think for a long moment as he knelt there, teasing you to the point where your body was trembling under him.

“Hmmm, but it’s up to me to decide though, right?” he eyed you as he pushed a single finger inside you. Your body tensed instantly as you locked eyes with him. “I can certainly fuck you with just this, and you can’t do a thing about it, right?”

You nodded as you relished the way his finger felt inside you, but you both knew it wasn’t enough, especially when you had a taste of his cock before. 

“Please, Stevie…I’ll be a good girl,” you pleaded again as you rocked against his fingers. “Please…need your cock so badly.”

Steve didn’t say anything, but he continued to tease you, fucking you with just his finger until he was bored enough to add another finger in. 

“God, I love it when you beg for me so prettily,” he murmured. “I supposed I’ll be nice and let you have it since you were so eager to suck my dick.”

Steve moved to stand at the end of the table, and he quickly discarded his pants and boxers. With a swift movement, you found yourself being grabbed by the ankles and being pulled toward him until your ass was hanging off the wooden table. 

He draped your legs over his broad shoulders and probed the head of his cock against your folds before slowly pushing himself in. A deep, guttural moan seemed to emit from his chest as he sheathed himself all the way inside you. 

Noises seemed to leave you when he began to move–slowly at first as if he was testing the way, and surely Steve began to set the pace, fast and brutal to the point where the noise of your body collided with the house. It was loud and wet, and oh so good. Every time he pushed a little too hard, you felt like you were being torn apart and put back together again simultaneously.

He was fast and brutal, and you didn’t care. You enable him to be this way. You wanted tongue and teeth, and Steve delivered just that. 

It was too overwhelming. No other thought filled your head except for the way his cock was practically tearing you into pieces, and you loved every second of it. Every time he felt your wall flutter around him, Steve would cease his movement and watch you look up at him with teary eyes. He knew he was being mean but not letting you come, but he was holding the reign here, and you were at his mercy at this point. 

He knew he was close as well by the way his balls would tighten up. Every movement was bringing him closer to the edge. When he knew he couldn’t hold it in anymore, he reached down to where you and he joined and began to rub your clit while he was moving in and out of. Your body instantaneously reacted to him. Before you knew it, you came with a soft cry while  Steve plunged into you with a brutal pace. 

He didn’t stop until he came hard inside you. He was gritting his teeth as he stood there, filling you up until he was dripping out onto the floor. Your body felt heavy and boneless. All you could do was stare at Steve with bleary eyes.

Not a moment too long, his lips found you with a gentle kiss that you could swear makes your toes curl if you weren’t too worn out already. Both of your bodies were slicked with sweat. His blond hair stuck to his forehead. His face flushed, and his breathing was heavy. 

“You ok?” He asked, blue eyes filled with concern as he eyed the aftermath. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

You shook your head and sat up, wrapping your legs around his taut waist. “No. It was perfect,” you told him before placing a long kiss on his lips. 

“Good because it’s not midnight yet, and I want to make sure I make good use of your gift,” he said before carrying you off the table with little effort. “I hope you’re ready for another round, Mrs. Rogers,” He smirked before carrying off into your bedroom.

[siconetribal]

Beyond the Bookshelves (8)

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Warnings: Friendly banter, overworking

Summary: You’re a Resource Management Specialist at S.H.I.E.L.D. normally referred to as “The Librarian”. You’ve been assigned the nightmarish task of digitizing all the physical resources currently owned by the agency, with a few new computers and one extra helper.

A/N:

Please comment/like/reblog. If you’d like to be tagged moving forward, please let me know! (If I missed any tags, please let me know, I’ll add you right away!) I’d also greatly appreciate it if rebloggers remember to add the tags (or some at least).

The lovely banners used in this fic are from @cafekitsune.

If you’re new to the story, please check out the master post for the rest of the chapters.

“You have it?” Loki raised a brow at this, pulling out his phone to see her full name and some extra information about her that Steve had stored on his phone. The sight of it only made his mood even more sour as he shoved the device back into the pocket it came from after saving it. “Quite a bit of information you have saved on here.”

“Yeah? It’s stuff I picked up on overtime.” The innocent, casual shrug of his shoulders held arrogance in the eyes of the God of Mischief. A smug punctuation of how the star-studded super soldier was able to freely come and go from the library and he was not.

“Oh? ‘Just stuff’ that you picked, huh? ‘Overtime’ you say? What kind of ‘just stuff’ did you save overtime?” Tony leaned in closer, a smug little smirk on his face with a twinkle of interest in his eyes.

“It’s not what you’re thinking, Tony. Y/N and I are just friends. Don’t go spreading unnecessary rumors. It’s nice to just have someone to talk to and not have to worry too much.” The stern tone in his voice earned a groaning sigh and eye roll from the impulsive scientist. “Also, dating in the workplace is unprofessional and would inevitably lead to complications.” 

Romantic involvements are always troublesome. Loki silently agreed, the tension in his shoulders slipping away as Steve made it clear that there was nothing going on between the two of them. The last thing I need is her feeding him misinformation or him spying for her to see what I’m saying or doing. I require access to the library, not an extended sentence. He reasoned with himself.

“Mr. Rules strikes again, don’t you know any other tricks? Or is justice and teacher’s pet your only ones? I don’t even know why I bother talking to you, give me her number. There’s something there, I know there is!” Loki sat up straight at the words that came out of the short Midgardian. His eyes narrowed with suspicion. “Share her contact with me.” The prince’s eye twitched at the demand. He could not fathom why all of them wanted her number now that it was clear that none of them actually had it. What good was there in having contact information for someone that would never be contacted.

Especially when his interests were more fickle than the tide, ever-changing from one stupid notion to the next.

“I’ll pass on that,” Steve rolled his eyes at the petulant child look that Tony gave him. Loki silently agreed with this decision. “But you’re more than welcomed to get it from yourself.”

No, he is not! What sort of denial is that?! You may as well have given him the damned number if you’re giving permission to get it! His jaw ached from how tightly it was clenched, his leg rapidly bouncing under the table. Thor noticed the changes in his younger brother’s demeanor, but said nothing. He figured the company of the others was the cause, and as the elder of the two, he thought it best that Loki grew accustomed to the presence of the other Avengers.

“Are you gatekeeping her number? Why not just give it to me?”

“Because, I want you to actually work for something. Plus, this is just you trying to get under my skin, and you’re not actually going to go after her to get her number, Tony, I know you. This is a shiny new toy that you’re going to forget about the moment something else comes along.”

“You do like to play with things and toss ‘em aside when you’re bored.” Clint agreed, sipping his drink as he nudged the empty tray forward. “You’re not actually going to call her anyway.”

“Et tu, Robin Hood?” Tony gasped in horror. “Is that what all of you think of me? That I’m someone so callous to just use a poor innocent maiden like Y/N and just throw her away like yesterday’s newspaper the next day? I am offended. I’ll show you, me and her, we’re going to be like this.” He entwined his index and middle finger of one hand before standing up from the table. “You’ll see, and you’ll all regret it!” He threw his nose into the air and left, the others amused by his dramatics as they continued to not take him seriously. The only person not amused was Loki. They all goaded the chatty Tin-Man into actually getting her number instead of leaving her alone, the exact opposite of what should have been done.

It’s horrible enough that Major Constellations over here frequents the place, and he’s friendly with her, now I’ll have to share my sanctuary with that aluminum can? I refuse to accept this! There has to be some logic I’m missing, unless this is all some ploy to ruin my peace and quiet. No, I can’t be, can it? They’re all trying to ruin what little solace I have here? He eyed the remainder of the group suspiciously. Thor is working with me on that infernal project that started this mess, I doubt he is tied to it. The straight-laced sergeant only comes when he needs to for missions. I don’t think I’ve seen the bird-man there. That leaves just that nuisance of an existence, but his focus is currently on troubling their leader. Perhaps that is all there is to it? If it truly is, then I have nothing to worry about, so long as I get to her first and convince her to not share her contact information. To do that, I need her to first lift this Stygian banishment!

“Well, I thank you for her number, you proved most helpful in this matter of miscommunication. I should start putting my efforts towards composing a proper response, so I take my leave.” Loki stood from the table and left without giving anyone a chance to pry anymore than they already had.

“Director Y/LN, looks like everything checks out here. The programs are all running and there hasn’t been any repetition of the errors we first faced.” The weary voice of her subordinate pulled Y/N’s attention from her laptop screen.

“About time,” Y/N pushed a chipper tone into her voice to mask the true exhaustion that had taken lodging inside her. Lacing her fingers together, she turned her palms outwards and stretched as she sighed. “I swear, technology isn’t as amazing as it’s cracked up to be…especially when it flops like this first thing.” She grumbled as she logged the successful trial and cleared this site as operational.

“When it acts up, I can’t agree more. When it’s working, I have no complaints.” Her subordinate’s soft chuckle could not mask the fatigue. “C’mon, it’s late, but we still have time to grab dinner. The rest of us are heading out to celebrate that we’re finally online!” The eager twinkle in those brown eyes made the offer more tempting, but Y/N had to decline. 

“You gotta join us, Chief!” Another chimed in, hearing her answer.

“Pretty please?” Came another plea.

“I really wish I could, but I’ve got a red-eye to catch. I need to finalize and submit the report before I’m off.” Y/N closed her laptop and pointed to the large clock on the wall.

“Damn, they’re really not giving you any wiggle room, huh?”

“That’s not fair at all! Other directors don’t go running around like they’re making you. This is abuse!”

“Let’s not get too hasty, I choose to handle certain things personally to make sure it’s done properly. It reduces the chances of unnecessary back-and-forth. Next time we can celebrate, I promise. Thanks for all your hard work, everyone. Let’s keep it up and get this project completed as soon as possible.” With a chorus of confirmations and cheers. Y/N packed her things and gave one last wave before leaving back to her hotel. 

She dropped back onto the awaiting mattress, heaving a heavy sigh as she finally let the fatigue show itself. For the last five weeks, Y/N flew between all the S.H.I.E.L.D. locations that had a library department to manage the setup and checks of the new system that was provided per location as promised. She had been formally trained on the software, but sat through the boring session with the staff each and every time it was given. There was no doubt in her mind that if she were to die now, her last words would probably be incoherent ramblings from the lecture. The only good news in all this was that she was finally done. This flight would bring her one step closer to her much-needed comfy bed in her small, cozy apartment.

Forcing herself up, she pulled out her laptop to edit her report one last time before sending it off and logging out for the remainder of the evening. She changed to something comfortable and made sure everything was packed away and ready to go before ordering room service.

At least they don’t cheap out on where I stay and pick up the tab entirely. She leaned back into the padded headboard that was attached to the wall. “Did I check in to my flight? Crap, I don’t think I did.” She muttered, feelings round the covers until she found her phone hidden away under a pillow. A good hour and a half was burned away through all her editing and rechecking the report. Her stomach growled in protest. Gently patting the disgruntled creature, she quickly checked in through the app and sighed with relief at the boarding pass notification on her status bar. It was then that she noticed the message notification that was sitting there unread, still. 

The corners of her lips tugged downwards into a frown. Y/N could have sworn that she read all of her messages. Opening the texting application, she noticed the unknown number had sent about 3 messages to her, the latest being from a couple of days ago. Her eyebrows furrowed as she stared at the glowing screen, trying to recall anything. When nothing came to her, she gave in and opened the chat. Her jaw dropped as it all cam rushing back to her.

Oh shit, I’m in trouble now! She lightly and rapidly hit the heel of her left hand into her forehead several times. Way to go, Y/N, you completely ignored someone for almost three weeks now! “What do I do, what do I do?! Obviously, I need to reply, but how?!” She bit her lower lip, typing, reading, erasing, and retyping too many times to count before giving up at the knock at her door. Paying the server a tip, she sat at the table and began to eat. Clearly she needed food to get her brain in some semblance of working order as she reread the messages.

<Librarian, this is Loki, the second prince of Asgard. It has come to my attention that you have been working under a misunderstanding. Remove the banishment order.> It was the first text that came roughly three weeks ago.

<Librarian, this is not amusing. You placed a banishment order with no means for me to rectifying your misunderstanding by leaving the facility. Remove it at once.> This second text came four days after the first.

<Why do you not answer me, woman? I have repeatedly asked you to remove your misguided decision, and it has yet to be fixed.>  This text, which made her snort, came almost two weeks ago. <I know you have read my texts.> 

None of this is asking me anything, you’re demanding. She rolled her eyes.

<Perhaps my prior texts were not properly worded. As per the insistent pestering of my brother and the others, I am messaging you again. I did not intentionally ignore you the day you banished me from the library. I had just come from a lengthy training session and review/strategy meeting afterwards. The only thing I had done between then and arriving at the library was to refresh myself in my quarters to be more presentable in public. The ‘promise’ I made slipped my mind completely, but I had no control over that matter due to how long it took. You make ask your precious admiral if you wish to confirm my story, or you can request the data of that session to prove the time. With all that being said, I understand why you would be upset. I would greatly appreciate it if you would remove the order given to the system so that I may read peacefully in the library once more.> She was surprised to see such a lengthy text coming after all the short, demanding ones that came before it. What surprised her even more was the last text sent earlier today when she was fighting with the program errors. <Are you alright? You have not read my last text.><Sorry for replying so late, I was tied up with my work. Also, I accept your ‘apology’. By ‘admiral’, do you mean CAPTAIN America, Steve?> It took her a minute to realize who he was referring to, and she nearly fell out of her seat laughing at the mistake no one has ever made. At least not to her. <Why would I go ask him or check the records? I doubt you’re lying about a long session, I trust you. Sadly, you’ll have to wait until I’m back on site to cancel the order. I can only do those type of changes while on S.H.I.E.L.D. grounds and on their network. Good news is I’ll be back Monday, so just two more days!> She confidently sent her reply and finished the rest of her meal. Glancing at the clock, she sighed and called for the driver to come as she made her way to the lobby and checked out. Soon you’ll be home, Y/N, soon.

Tags: @vbecker10 @huntress-artemiss @softestqueeen @thegodofnotknowing @princess-ofthe-pages @firedrakegirl @rcailleachcola @cabingrlandrandomcrap @lotrefcp @lwtannie @jainaeatsstars @msdjsg7 @tom-hlover @kneelingformyloki @gruftiela @gigglingtiggerv2 @kats72 @mischief2sarawr @evalynanne

[wandussyfantasy]

Office Fantasy

Request from AO3: this was mind blowing-ly awesome, please add another part. maybe in the office like nats fantasies but wanda walks in half way through idk just a thought but another part would be awesome

Pairing: WandaNat x G!nReader

Summary: Natasha is tired of waiting for the next invitation. She takes matters into her own hands.

WARNINGS:

18+ ONLY, MINORS DO NOT READ & DO NOT INTERACT!!!

switch!reader, top!Wanda, bottom!Nat, gender neutral reader with a penis, oral r giving, threesome, adult toys use, overstimulation, mention of a peeping-tom, just the tip.

𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄 𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓. 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐂𝐄𝐄𝐃 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐂𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍

You are sitting at your desk, stressed out about the workload you have returned to. You knew that taking over a month off of work for a honeymoon was going to bite you in the ass when you returned, but how could you turn down such a generous gift from your boss? Now, you wonder why she ever offered such a thing in the first place. Curious if she was just setting you up for failure because Wanda hasn't invited the woman back to the bedroom since that night. 

In your wife's defense, both of your families invaded your home to finalize wedding details. Neither of you were okay with it until the honeymoon. The months that your families were in town, it was almost impossible to get enough time to be intimate with each other. Which made the honeymoon all the better. The two of you were fucking like animals and the orgasms were phenomenal. Wanda was even considering implementing a sexual fasting at least once a year. But, she hasn't made up her mind on that yet. 

“Excuse me,” Natasha's assistant, Maria Hill, calls your name from your doorway. “Ms. Romanoff has requested that you meet her in her office immediately.” You drop your pen and rise out of your seat, asking what files she needs you to have handy. “This isn't a case review, it's a performance one. All she needs from you is, well, you.”

Your heart jumps in your throat as you follow the assistant through the office building to Natasha’s office. You adjust your tie along the way nervously as you play out every negative scenario. The kind where you get fired or demoted or lose a case to someone else in the office or you find out you made a colossal and irreversible mistake. With heavy feet, you enter her office. 

“Please, have a seat,” Natasha says. You follow the direction. “Ms. Hill, please redirect all calls to voicemail and you're free to leave for the day.” 

“Oh!” Maria is surprised, she has never been allowed to leave work early and today happened to be the perfect day for it. “Okay, thank you Ms. Romanoff.” 

“Shut the door please,” Natasha calls after the woman who quickly returns to pull the heavy wooden door shut. Your boss lands her eyes onto you now. You tense up under her gaze until you recognize the desire in her eyes. “Do you know why I called you in here?” she tilts her head with a smirk. 

“I have a few ideas, but I will just let you tell me,” you respond, playing with the end of your tie. 

“Well, I’ll make it simple,” she leans over her desk to give you the view of her cleavage. Her breasts were being pushed together by her bra and tight shirt, it made you want to titty fuck her. “I miss your cock,” she states. 

You clear your throat as you feel the mentioned body part twitch in your pants. “I hadn't realized you wanted more from me.”

Natasha rolls the chair out from under her and struts around the desk. With a swift motion, her pencil skirt is falling to the ground and she hops onto the front of the desk with her legs open. Giving you a full view of her glistening pussy. You gulp as you watch her. You scramble for your phone and snap a quick picture and send it to Wanda. 

Within seconds you receive two messages. Do it and I’m on my way. “Did the Mistress give you permission?” Natasha asks as she reaches over to pull you closer by your tie. 

“Yes ma'am,” you set your phone on the desk next to her bare thigh. “She’s on her way.” 

Natasha kisses you, “Thank you.” 

You kiss her back and finally run your hands up her thighs. Her skin is warm and smooth and soft. In the kiss, Natasha undoes your tie and a few buttons on your shirt. You trace patterns on her thighs as you tease her pussy. Only barely touching her. Making her try to move closer to your fingers. Finally, you stop kissing her lips to kiss other parts of her. You kiss her neck, the tops of her breasts, her hands, her thighs, anywhere that you can place your lips. Until you put your mouth on her pussy. You kiss the lips first, causing a hitch in Natasha's breath. She is leaning against her hands on the desk to give you more access. You lick her and hum your approval of her taste. The vibration makes her squirm. It's been so long, you didn't think you missed her until now.

You don't put all of your focus on eating her out, just in case Wanda doesn't want Natasha to cum before she gets here. You move your tongue in lazy motions but she is enjoying finally being touched in so long that her body is more sensitive. As you work on her, you undo your pants. You sigh in relief when you've pulled your cock out. You stroke yourself to get fully hard as you continue to eat your boss out on her desk. She has her hands in your hair as she pulls you closer. “Yeah baby, like that, fuck I'm close!” Natasha tried to replace you and Wanda but the two of you have ruined her for anyone. She needs you and your wife. No one makes her feel the way the both of you do. 

When you are ready, you pull your mouth away from her and scoot your chair away. “You can't cum yet,” you tell her. “Not until the Mistress says so,” you kiss Natasha's pouting lips. “You’ll be a good girl for her, won't you?” You caress her cheek and she leans into your comforting touch. 

“Yes, master,” she says and this is the first time this word has been used to address you. It made you tingly and your dick twitch. You enjoyed being on this side of things. Yes, you love Wanda's dominance, you will submit to her no matter what. But having your boss submit to you right now has awoken something new and desirable inside of you. 

To reward Natasha for helping you discover this side of you, you line your cock up at her entrance and slowly ease yourself in. Starting with only the tip. She is warm and tight around the head of your cock. You groan as you find your control. You have to wait for Wanda, you try to remind yourself. You continue to tease her entrance with only the sensitive tip of your cock. Natasha starts to gyrate her hips in hopes of getting more of you to slip in but you maintain your control. When you hear the secret knock you and Wanda came up with, you enter Natasha all of the way and hold yourself there for a second. Finally releasing air that you didn't realize you were holding in. She has her hands on your back to keep you close to her. “Finally,” she whispers.

The knock occurs again and you pull all of the way out of Natasha, much to her dismay. You grab your coat and wrap it around your waist as you answer the door. You lock it once Wanda has entered. She pushes you up against the large wooden door and kisses you hard. “Is she ready for me?” Wanda asks as she bites her bottom lip. 

“Of course, Mistress. She's pretty close to finishing,” you report while you stroke your cock. 

“Good,” Wanda says and kisses you again. She takes over stroking your cock and you sigh happily as you prefer her soft hands. “Let’s not keep her waiting,” she says as she pulls you by your cock over to Natasha's desk. “Fuck her for me, love.” Wanda whispers into your ear. You nod as you put both hands on Natasha's desk next to her naked thighs. Wanda puts her hand on Natasha's thigh and caresses each one. “Open your legs a little wider, honey. Give them more room.” Natasha nods as she does as she's told and spreads her legs more. 

You let Wanda take your cock to guide you back into Natasha's pussy. And once you're inside, you begin to fuck her as slow and hard as you can in this position. Wanda takes Natasha's face in her hands and kisses her hard on the mouth. You moan at the sight and the way Natasha's walls clench around you because of the kiss. She had it bad for you and your wife. While she kisses her, Wanda takes Natasha's hand and puts it on her clitoris. “Touch yourself,” she whispers against her lips. Natasha nods and stimulates her clitoris while you pump deep inside of her. Wanda moves her mouth to Natasha's breasts and you lose it at the sight of your wife sucking on your boss's boobs. You lean down and kiss Natasha and soon enough she is spasming, her walls are tight around you, and her juices are spilling out of her. 

You pull your cock out of her and Wanda puts her mouth on Natasha's pussy. Giving her no break from the pleasure. Over stimulating the woman. She tries to pull Wanda off of her but she is weak as she is hit with another orgasm. Natasha falls limply against her desk as Wanda pulls away. Your wife steps back and undresses. She lays her naked body against Natasha's and she shakes her booty at you. Luring you to her. You kneel down and lick her wet pussy. Sticking your tongue inside of her every few seconds. Then you slip your finger inside of Natasha, making the woman spring back to life. Wanda smiles down at her and starts to kiss her again. Their lips sucking each other turns you on even more and you stop eating your wife's pussy. Normally, you'd wait for her to tell you what to do. But today, you're the Master. 

You enter Wanda with your big cock as she continues to kiss Natasha. You pump inside of her for a little bit before you pull out and enter the hole underneath her. Natasha yelps at the unexpected penetration. You do this switching between their holes until you feel yourself getting close and you slam your hips into your wife and unload everything inside of her. 

Panting heavily, you pull out of Wanda and fall back into the chair. “Fuck, this isn't how I saw my day going,” you laugh to yourself as Wanda and Natasha are focused on each other. You watch them as they kiss and finger each other on top of the large desk. Wanda steps away and reaches for something in her bag. It's her strap-on. She puts it on Natasha's body and the woman looks at her curiously. Wanda beckons her with her finger over to the large windows of the office that look out into the city. 

Wanda pulls Natasha close as her warm body lands against the cold glass. “Fuck me,” she says seductively. 

“Yes, Mistress,” Natasha says as she lines the dildo of your penis at your wife's entrance. You watch them in awe as Wanda wraps her legs around Natasha while she pounds into her. Your cock starts to harden at the sight and you stroke yourself while you continue to enjoy the view. Wanda and Natasha are sloppy as they kiss each other. Then Wanda makes eye contact with you and waves you over. 

You rise as you continue to stroke your cock and without being told, you enter Natasha. “Ooohh yeah,” you groan as you easily slip inside her dripping wet cunt. You slowly pull all of the way out so that she can feel every inch of you and then abruptly slam back in. You do this a couple more times before you stop. You look out the window to see the man that cleans the windows from the outside is watching from the lift. He has his dick out and he is stroking himself. Natasha notices next and freezes. 

Wanda, who was close to her climax, is frustrated by the two of you stopping. “What’s wrong?” She groans. Then she looks behind her and sees the man. She laughs, “Let him watch. It doesn't matter,” you and Natasha look at her shocked. “I’m almost there, come on now.” She rolls her hips in the strap on. Natasha starts to move and you shrug as well. Not caring about the peeping-tom anymore. Instead you redirect your focus to two gorgeous women in front of you and prepare for what's to come. 

The End.

[mj-iza-writer]

Warning: infantilized Whumpee. Whumpee is baby and Whumper agrees.

"Are you my cute little baby?", Whumper cooed at Whumpee as they changed their diaper, "smelly baby is more like it, geesh."

Whumpee wiggled away while Whumper cleaned up.

"Don't go too far", Whumper spoke over their shoulder.

Whumpee tried to reach up for a higher shelf. They climbed up on their feet to get a better reach.

"Whumpee no", Whumper came from behind and smacked Whumpee's butt.

Whumpee jumped from the warning and slap. They fell to the floor with a bang.

They looked up at Whumper with tears threatening to fall.

"Oh no, did baby go boom on the floor", Whumper knelt down, "did that cause an owwy?"

Whumpee's lip quivered as they nodded.

"It's okay baby", Whumper scooped them into a hug, "that's why babies shouldn't be standing up", Whumper grinned and kissed Whumpee's forehead, "let's put on your bootys."

Whumpee struggled to get away, "ymhmm", Whumpee shook their head no.

"We have to Whumpee, you know better than to say no to me", Whumper reached for the slippers, "do you want another spanking?"

Whumpee watched Whumper for a second before pointing at the item they were trying to reach.

"Does baby Whumpee want their chewy?", Whumper reached up and grabbed it.

Whumpee nodded as they watched Whumper carefully.

"Alright, come here then, let's clip it on you", Whumper held it up.

Whumpee crawled to Whumper and stopped a few steps away.

"Very cute attempt", Whumper watched them stretch as far as they could, "you need to come a little closer."

Whumpee scooted a few inches.

"You're being ridiculous. These don't hurt you unless you stand up, and you know better than to stand up", Whumper sighed, "come here before I get up and get you."

Whumpee huffed in annoyance.

"Don't huff at me", Whumper warned, "I'll give you the icky syrup if you keep being disobedient."

Whumpee quickly scooted closer... anything to not have that sludge go down their throat.

"That's what I thought", Whumper clipped the toy holder onto Whumpee's outfit, "I have a feeling my mind control is losing its edge on you", Whumper tickled Whumpee's sides playfully, "do we need to fix that?"

Whumpee quickly put the toy in their mouth and happily chewed on it.

"You're probably hungry. We'll get breakfast once these booties are on you", Whumper grinned, "is my baby grumpy because your hungry."

Whumper slipped the booty onto Whumpee's foot, and made sure the bottom sat right, they then buckled the boot and locked it.

Whumpee whined as cold metal touched their feet.

"I know Whumpee, just don't stand up. The spikes won't hurt you then", Whumper started to put the other one on.

These boots were a soft padded slipper with a belt around the ankle. They could be adjusted and locked into place . Inside the slipper, a removable insert with a few dull spikes waited for the wearer to stand up. This would cause severe pain and cause the person to fall over. It normally didn't cause bleeding though.

Whumpee rolled onto their stomach when Whumper was finished.

"Let's go get breakfast", Whumper watched Whumpee try to pull at the slipper, "nuh-uh", Whumper smacked Whumpee's hand away, "do you want me to add the mittens?"

Whumpee cowarded away and shook their head no.

"Let's go get breakfast then", Whumper sighed.

Whumpee sat in a highchair type seat in the kitchen. Whumper fed them while also eating their breakfast and packing lunch for work.

Whumpee realized the weekend was over.

"Please don't leave me", Whumpee whispered, "I-I don't want to be alone."

"Wow a baby who can speak... amazing", Whumper turned, "who gave you permission to speak."

"I-I'm sorry, I just don't want you to leave me", Whumpee looked down.

"As much as I enjoy hearing that, I do, in fact, have to go to work", Whumper frowned as they gave Whumpee another spoonful of food, "trust me, I'd rather stay here and play with you all day, but I can't. I had a feeling you were breaking out of my mind control. You've been a bit more difficult than normal this morning."

Whumpee let another tear fall.

"No need to cry, little baby, I have something fun planned for you. Considering you just talked to me, I think you already know what that means for you."

Whumpee panicked, "no master please....I-I'll be go..."

Whumper forced another spoonful of food deep into Whumpee's mouth making them choke harshly.

"Save it", Whumper grinned, "sometimes the brainwashing wears off and you lose your edge. Nothing a little coaxing won't solve."

Whumpee was strapped into a sleep sack and tied into their crib. They could only wiggle now.

"It's a shame, you normally get to play while I'm gone now you have to lay here until I get home. Don't worry though, I'll let you have plenty of screen time."

Whumper adjusted a screen directly in front of Whumpee's face. They gave it a few wiggles to make sure it didn't fall on Whumpee.

"Please, I promise I'll be good", Whumpee panicked as Whumper attached an electrode sticker onto Whumpee's neck.

"I know you will be. It's okay, you just need a little mind adjustment, it happens occasionally", Whumper grinned as they attached a wire to the sticker, "this will send a small shock every ten minutes to make sure you stay awake while I'm gone."

Whumpee whimpered, "please."

Whumper showed Whumpee a pacifier gag, and forced it into Whumpee's mouth and locked it into place.

"You'll be able to drink water through that, you have a full container of water to keep you hydrated", Whumper laughed as they turned on the screen, "I'll be checking in on you throughout today with this camera here."

The first shock stung Whumpee.

"Ymph", Whumpee jolted, "pwease."

"Enjoy the screen time", Whumper chuckled as they snapped a picture and left.

Whumpee screamed into the gag as the video started. A never ending black and white spiral took over the screen. Next an extremely annoying song played in several different volumes: extremely loud to almost quiet.

Whumpee fought against restraints. They squeezed their eyes close and wished they could cover their ears, especially knowing what was coming next.

Another shock went into their neck, making them scream again.

"Whumpee open your eyes you cute little baby", Whumper's recorded voice came on. This video was a continual loop of Whumper saying the same de-aging triggers over and over. This mixed with the hypnotic spiral and sensory overloading music would put anyone in a trance. Then, to add being shocked every ten minutes to make sure you do not fall asleep, which is both painful and torturous, Whumpee was doomed to go numb again.

They had already felt their body stop fighting. Their eyes widened as they stared at the screen.

Their mind kept yelling to move... or do something to fight for their freedom.

All fight left them. The spiral was just to beautiful and Whumper talked in such a soothing voice. They wanted their master back to see how good they were being. This song was so catchy.

"Ah, ah, ah", Whumpee tried to sing along until their eyes closed.

A shock jolted them awake again.

Drool pooled down the sides of their mouth now.

'Pretty colors', Whumpee thought to themself.

Whumper grinned as they watched Whumpee from their desk at work.

"They are long gone", Whumper chuckled, "they still have a long time to. Their brain will be like jello at the end of this."

A little before Whumper was to leave work they logged on to see Whumpee again.

Whumpee was crying uncontrollably. The overstimulation had gotten to them more than Whumper had wanted.

Whumper watched as Whumpee's back arched up in pain as another shock came through.

"Yep, you have definitely had too much now", Whumper sighed, realizing nine hours was probably too long for the mind control program to be watched.

Whumper hurried into Whumpee's room and hurried to turn the program and shock mechanism off.

Whumpee shook weakly.

"Aww, is my little baby okay?", Whumper cooed.

Whumpee sobbed as they tried to get out.

"That was scary for my baby... I'm here now. You're okay", Whumper hurried to untie Whumpee and free them from the sleepsack.

Whumpee quickly rolled to the further side of the crib and sniffled.

"It's okay baby come here, we'll get your diaper changed, and we can have a snack before dinner", Whumper tried to reach for them.

Whumpee tried to stand up.

"No Whumpee the slippers", Whumper tried to stop them.

Whumpee screamed as they fell over.

"Whumpee, it's okay, I need you to take a deep breath for me little one", Whumper tried to pull them out of the crib, "come here."

Whumpee continued to cry as Whumper finally got a good grip to pull them up.

"My poor baby", Whumper lowered themself and Whumpee to the ground, "I over did it."

Whumpee struggled for a second before finally burying their face into Whumper and crying.

"I know, it's okay. Let it all out", Whumper rubbed their back, "you've never had to go that long with that video playing. That was not a good idea for my little baby."

Whumpee quieted, but their body shook. They jolted again as though the electrode was still on them.

"Ahh, my baby", Whumper sighed, "come on let's get your diaper changed, and we can have some cookies while I make dinner. You are such a good baby."

Whumpee thought for a second before weakly nodding.

They laid quietly while Whumper changed them. No happy babbles like normal.

Even after watching the video for a while, Whumpee hadn't been this disoriented by it.

Whumper sighed, "I guess next time I'll just tie you down and regress you later. I shouldn't play with mind control so recklessly. I don't want you brain dead... not yet at least."

Whumpee watched them, but they didn't react to anything Whumper was saying. Their eyes were dull.

"Look at those lifeless eyes of yours", Whumper sighed while booping Whumpee's nose, "let's see if my little baby is in there still."

Whumpee was sat in their play pen in the living room. Some of their favorite toys were spread out for them to play with. Whumper then carried in a sippy cup of milk and a container of cookies.

Whumpee crawled to where Whumper sat the cookies and grabbed one.

"Well that's a good sign", Whumper stated in relief, "you're still food motivated."

"Hu-hu", Whumpee mumbled.

"I bet you're hungry... dinner is almost ready", Whumper smiled, "is my baby coming back?"

That evening Whumper lifted Whumpee to the couch and started to cuddle them.

"I see a little more life in your eyes now", Whumper grinned, "I bet you're sleepy though."

Whumpee rested their head on Whumper's chest.

"Aww my poor baby.... so sleepy", Whumper patted their head, "tomorrow will be a better day."

Taglist. As always please let me know if you want to be added or taken off of the list. It's not a problem at all.

@villainsandheroes @the-beasts-have-arrived

@sacredwrath @porschethemermaid

@monarchthefirst @generic-whumperz

@bloodyandfrightened @freefallingup13

@notpeppermint @cyborg0109

@idontreallyexistyet @painfulplots

@whumpbump @everythingsscary

@skittles-the-whumpee @expressionless-fr

@theforeverdyingperson @legendarydelusiongoatee

@candleshopmenace @whumpanthems

@lavndvrr @ivymyers

@starfields08000 @a-living-canvas

@lumpofsand @watermeezer

@indigoviolet311 @whumpy-mountains

@3-2-whump @risk606

@electrons2006 @paperprinxe

@whumprince @kaz-of-crows

@mis-graves @decaffeinatedtimetraveler94

@sausages-things @sunglasses-in-the-bentley

[earthtooz]

x : BOX OF SURPRISES :*+ﾟ

in which: sampo has something for you and you fall a little more in love with him.

warnings: 1k wc, FLUFF (slight angst), reader is a little mean :,) but it's bc sampo's annoying, gn!merchant!reader, banter, seemingly unrequited feelings, ambiguous relationship?

a/n: need this pathetic sop of a man so badly it's not even funny. anyways, enjoy! pls rb if u liked it :D

“sampo, what is the meaning of this?” setting down the heavy boxes of goods with a huff, suspicion stirs in your gut. 

“did you not see my text earlier? i could have sworn you read it,” he hums, trailing off thoughtfully as he looks at you through his swept-aside strands of hair. 

you look away from the carefree glint in his eyes whilst ignoring the pounding of your heart.

“i’m working, sampo- being an ethical and trustworthy merchant is a hard job, y’know?”

the man laughs, boisterous and loud. a migraine is coming, it's only natural to get one after dealing with its human embodiment. 

“don’t you have other things to do?” you mutter.

“what, other than talking with my favourite fellow merchant?” 

“you mean terrorising.”

sampo laughs again. this time, he shuts his eyes close and grins so wide that he flashes his annoyingly perfect teeth. it’s so painful that he’s so beautiful, if only that could excuse his horrendous personality (you adore him). 

pretending to wipe a tear from his eyes, he sighs wistfully. “this is why i love talking to you, never a dull moment with you, y/n.”

you try not to let his flattery get to you. besides, he probably says this to all of his competitors just to butter them up, breaking their walls before inevitably taking them and distributing their resources to consumers at cheaper prices. 

“whatever, sampo. will you leave me alone now?”

“hey, hey, hey, what’s the rush?” he asks, putting his hands on his hips. you try not to look at the exposed skin that sits above. “the business day is over. don’t you have some time to spare for little old me?”

“the business day may be over for me but never for crooks like you. besides. i need to pack up  and i want to go home, so i don’t appreciate any delays.”

“you think of me as a mere ‘delay’?” sampo gestures to himself, all grandiose and dramatics. “i’m hurt, and here i was thinking that we had a connection.”

there’s a part of you that hopefully yearns for him to expand on the ‘connection’ he so speaks of, but the desire fades as quickly as it appears, replaced with dejection instead. to cross the line with sampo koski would be fatal for your business and you fear that you were already toeing the boundaries. tolerating and talking to him for goodwill was one thing, but going ahead and falling for him was another. 

furthermore, you don’t like the feeling that he knows about how you feel. everywhere you turn, sampo is there, leaning against the wall, looking like temptation itself as he toys with those small blades of his. they’re kind of like boomerangs, but you’re not too sure.

there’s a lot about sampo you’re not too sure about- perhaps if you weren’t a competing merchant, you would have tried to learn them all. 

“you drive me insane,” you murmur, packing up all the leftover goods into a crate.

“let me help you,” he offers, picking up some goods and sorting them without permission. you have half a mind to slap him away, but against the better judgement of your brain, you allow him to assist.

when the crate is filled, sampo walks over to grab another empty box, passing it to you. you eye him suspiciously and the blue-haired merchant is quick to make a comment on your speculatory glance. 

“why are you looking at me like that?” 

“why are you… helping me?”

“what? is it so wild that sampo koski can be of assistance? i have some good in my heart, ya know,” he sings, reaching over your stall to adjust the twisted strap of your outfit. 

sampo winks at you when he meets your gaze again.

you hate the way your body reacts to his fleeting touch, and the way you want more. you want to feel how his hands would fit in yours, or around your waist, or holding your face, or-

“speechless, are we now?” chuckles the merchant. “i normally elicit this reaction-”

shaking your thoughts away, you cut him off with a slam of your crate, defeated by the betrayal of your own wandering mind. “sampo.”

for a moment, shock shines in his eyes, his hair bouncing as he jolts. you also can’t help but wonder what it’d be like to run your hands through it. if he won’t share his heart then perhaps his hair care routine could do, after all, it is unfair to have such luminous hair despite running around all day.

“didn’t you have something for me?” you ask, trying not to let your exasperation bleed into your tone. “that’s why you’re here, no?”

he presses a hand to his chest and acts like he's been shot. “so you read my message and chose not to reply? i’m hurt, y/n, how cou-”

“sampo. please, i’m in no mood to banter. can we get this exchange over and done with?”

for a flash of a second, you delude yourself into seeing a slight furrow in sampo’s eyebrows, expression moulding into something akin to sadness. it’s a face that will haunt your dreams, you think, especially with the way he glanced away from you, doubt evident in his body language as he nods shyly.

it's not like sampo to break eye contact, but he recovers too quickly for you to comment on it and then further shuts you up when he presents an innocently pretty box. through common sense, it looks like a box of chocolates, but because you know sampo koski, you’re a little frightful of the contents inside. 

“wh-what’s the meaning of this?” you ask, eyeing the gift carefully.

sampo pushes it further towards you. “open it and find out!”

“it’s not going to blow up in my face, is it?” 

“do you think so little of me?”

“yes, because you trick people like this, sampo, by presenting a seemingly innocent box of chocolates and then bam- they blow up in-”

“okay, okay, i promise this isn’t one of them ones that go ‘bam’! trust me!”

"okay... i'll trust you on this one."

with a little reluctance, you take the outstretched box, scepticism written all over your face. preparing for the worst, you untie the little bow and gently lift off the cover, melting at the contents within.

chocolates of various sizes and design litter the inside and the cuteness of it is enough to make you melt, the small smile appearing on your face only a tiny indication of the affection growing within you. not to mention, these sweets don’t look like the cheap mimics that the underworld produces. how did sampo get his hands on these, and why would he give them to you?

suddenly laced with guilt at the unnecessary attitude and rudeness you showed him earlier, you look up with a ‘thank you’ and apology on the tip of your tongue, but he’s gone. disappeared into thin air at the crumbling of your heart's walls.

disappointed, you sigh and make a mental note to thank him the next time you see him. resuming your packing up, you’re unaware of the new brightness your expression carries, and how you move around with a little more bounce to your step.

hugging the gift close to you, a certain merchant lays low nearby and watches how enthused you seem by the new gift. sampo concludes then and there that your smile is priceless and he would do anything to be the cause of it.

if only he could tell you.

© EARTHTOOZ 2023, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.

[devillexi]

Walking In On Their S/O Masturbate

BSD Headcanons

Warning: degradation, use of the word slut, extremely smutty, afab reader, etc.

Hope you enjoy!

Dazai:

• Usually after work, Dazai liked to hang out at your place, so he could tell you all about his day.

• But he didn't expect to find you pleasuring yourself in bed. You were so preoccupied with chasing after your own release that you didn't notice him standing in the doorway.

• He was in a trance really. Seeing your fingers work so desperately, in and out, opening your pretty pussy. Your slick pooling underneath you, leaving a wet spot on the bed. It was a magnificent sight to come home to.

• He couldn't take just watching any longer when you started whimpering his name, frustrated with how your fingers weren't enough compared to his cock that would often ravage, wreck, and destroy your pussy.

• You were startled out of your stupor when you felt something touch your hand and gasped when you saw it was Dazai. Your face blew up in a sea of red as you asked him how long had he been there.

• His answer: "Just long enough to get me hard, my belladonna. If your pretty fingers aren't enough to satisfy you, then I'll replace them with something that will."

• It's a long week before you could finally walk properly after that.

Chuuya:

• You little minx...! How could you masturbate without him!? You know he likes to watch.

• As punishment for touching yourself without his explicit permission, he uses his ability on you to lift you off the bed. An absolutely startling surprise for you as you had no idea he was there.

• You shrieked and called out his name in surprise. He smirked as he watched you desperately tried to sturdy yourself but you were in the air. What could you possibly balance yourself on?

• "My naughty kitten...what was that you were just doing a moment ago?"

• "Ch-Chuuya!? Put me down!"

• "Not until you finish that little performance you were doing. Ah, what was it? Stuffing your fucking cunt without my supervision!"

• You were ticked off for being interrupted. You were so close to reaching your high!

• You wanted to be let down, but this position of being suspended in mid air with your legs open was tempting as well.

• Chuuya could see it in your eyes and smirked, shifting his weight from one leg to the other. "Why don't you go ahead and show me just how you were pleasuring yourself, huh? Lemme see, baby."

• His husky voice, heavy with lust, tempted you and you brought your hands back to your soaking cunt.

• "That's it, baby," he coaxed you, a tightness forming in his pants as you held his gaze. He licked his lips as you circled your fingers around your clit and groaned out, "Do a good job and I'll reward you good, baby."

• "Promise, Chuu?"

• "Oh, it's a promise. Now work those fingers and cum for me. I want to see you dripping on this fucking floor."

Rampo:

• His deduction skills was what lead him here in front of your bedroom door as it stood open, slightly ajar. You see, Rampo had noticed a couple of changes that had him curious. Whenever he came by, he noticed that your sheets would be replaced and there was often a heavily perfume smell in the room. Now the sheets by themselves wouldn't have been a clue if it wasnt for the fact that you change them before he arrives, every other day. And the heavy fragrant smell was just the tip of the iceberg. So naturally he became curious about what you were hiding from him, but he already knew what it was.

• He watched as you plunged your pink dildo into your tight heat. Your legs trembling as they laid wide open for the whole world to see. He watched as your dainty fingers circled your clit as you repeatedly sunk your dildo deeper and deeper.

• He knew that this was what you were doing but his poor feelings were still hurt. Why masturbate when he can give you just what you need? Was your little toy more satisfying than his cock? He thinks the fuck not. He becomes increasingly angry at the thought of you masturbating and pleasuring yourself without his permission. Your pussy belongs to him.

• Unable and unwilling to witness such travesty, he barged into your room, startling you.

• "So this is what you've been up to? You've been so sneaky I almost had the wrong impression that you were cheating on me!," he glared. Your heated face flushed an even more bright crimson.

• "Ra-Rampo, I thought-"

• "Save it. I think you're in need of a punishment," he said as he stalked over, taking hold of your dildo as he stared you down. "This filthy thing's been hogging my pussy. Who gave you permission to do this, slut?"

• You stammered, stumbling over your words, unable to give him a proper answer. It didn't matter though as Rampo removed the offensive thing, forcing it out of you and making you yelp. He discarded it haphazardly in the corner of your room.

• "If you're gonna please this cunt, it's only going to be through me. I guess I gotta teach you who this pussy belongs to, huh?"

• You could only whimper as your legs were spread and Rampo slid in between. You could see the fury and lust swirl behind his eyes as he eyed how soaking wet you were.

• "So disappointing," he sighed, already unbuckling his belt. "Who knew you'd go behind my back like this, you little slut?"