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dear-bunnyboo · 4 months

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𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐎𝐍𝐄: 𝐕𝐎𝐆𝐔𝐄 𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒 - 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐀𝐆 || 𝐉𝐎𝐄 𝐁𝐔𝐑𝐑𝐎𝐖

important note: my face claim will be madison beer but you can imagine whoever you desire. also the songs mentioned are not all technically all madison’s i will be incorporating other songs from other artists.

all the pictures seen below are not mine, however they were edited by yours truly. credits to the owners.

This is part of my ‘ONE-SHOT’ category in my The One Series which means you can read this as a Standalone if you want too. This sill takes place in the same au and still follows Joe and Lovebug!!! Hope that made sense 🤍

First one-shot of The One Series!! Message me if you have any confusions I can clarify!!

she’s baackkkk!!!

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Joe Burrow x Singer!Reader / Brief Ex!Jack Hughes x Singer!Reader

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Y/N Y/L/N takes the time to show us everything inside her bag.

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: cursing, social media, some fluffy moments

𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 || 𝐌𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 || 𝐌𝐢𝐬𝐜. 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 || 𝐍𝐇𝐋 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐓𝐮𝐛𝐞

IN THE BAG with Y/N Y/L/N

"Hey, Vogue! It's Y/N Y/L/N, and today I will be showing you what's in my bag." You introduced yourself as you stared at the camera in front of you.

Bringing your bag up on your lap to show the camera, you smiled.

"This is my new baby. My newest purchase, the Hermès Birkin in the color—" You looked down at your bag as you finished your sentence.

"I forgot what the exact color is called but I'm pretty sure it's the Orange 30," you said looking back up at the camera.

"I have an obsession with bags, I love collecting them—bags, shoes, and jewelry, not in that order. I... might have a problem." You giggled as you slowly opened your bag and continued your introduction.

"Also, before I begin— I just want to say that big bags aren't for me. This is a medium size at best, I prefer small bags and medium-sized bags. That's because I am the type of person who would fill their bags up to the brim when given the chance and I try to avoid that cause it gives me the opportunity to bring useless things that I would never use. So, yeah— this is the biggest it could get for me." You pointed at the Birkin on your lap.

Opening the bag, you reached in before pulling out your phone, "First thing in my bag is my phone which I placed in my bag before we started filming actually." You raised your phone up facing the camera.

"That's because I usually prefer my phone either in my hand or my pocket because for some reason I don't trust having it in my bag— if that makes sense." You furrowed your eyebrows as you slightly giggled at your explanation.

"I have slight attachment issues with my phone, which— we all have these days. So, yeah— my phone is only in my bag when absolutely necessary." You finished before placing your phone on the table presented in front of you.

"Next is—" You announced as you pried your bag open wider.

"My iPad. Which I always bring with me especially when travelling which I do a lot. It's either my iPad or my laptop— or both if I am traveling. But in this case just my iPad."

"Next thing in my bag is my notebook or journal." You pulled out a baby pink notebook out of your bag before smiling at the camera.

"This is a very special and important notebook. I'm not the type of person to journal or write about my day in a notebook like a diary. I know some people do that but I could never get myself into it. However, I do something similar to journaling which is writing music." You smiled cheekily at the camera.

"Yup. So this notebook has song lyrics in it. I literally have at least five notebooks back at home that I have all gone through— filled with song lyrics of my existing songs, scrapped songs, and songs that are in my archive. This one is my newest notebook." You smiled as you scanned through the notebook within yourself as you explained— your eyes trained on the unreleased song lyrics you've written recently.

"Some people prefer writing on their notes app on their phones but personally, there is just something about writing with a pen and paper that makes it real— if that makes sense." You shrugged as you placed it on the table as well before pulling out more of your belongings from the bag.

"I also have a pen, obviously for writing. Then I have two Sharpie markers— a black and white one for my fans. Whenever I meet them they ask me to sign their stuff."

"Next is my wallet and card holder from YSL." you quickly went through the things you didn't have to explain.

"I have my shades." You pulled out the black case before pulling out the black sunglasses you frequently use— putting them on to show the camera.

"This is from Gentle Monster and these sunglasses are my most frequently used." You remove them from you and place them on the table.

"Next is— what is this? Oh, I have a mini jewelry holder." You pulled out a square-shaped box, "It's empty cause I am wearing my jewelry. But this is just for when I need to remove my jewelry, you know? For shoots and stuff— so that they don't get lost or damaged."

Rummaging through your bag to look for the next item to pull out, you settled on the three small pouches you had inside your bag— placing the nude-colored pouches on the table you smiled at the camera.

"Now, I have these cute small pouches that contain all the small items that I have. My problem with bags with no pockets or inserts is that I hate when my things are cluttered in there just flopping around. So, these mini pouches help a lot since I like being organized." you finished before opening the first pouch.

"The first pouch contains my makeup that I use solely for touching up. I also have some other items here—" you pulled out a small compact, "I have my Chanel Travel Face Palette which has a powder, blush, bronzer, and highlighter. It's all here so it's very convenient."

"Next is my Fenty Blotting Powder, for blotting— obviously." you laughed.

"Then— my concerning amount of lip product which is the majority of this pouch." You explained before pulling out your insane amount of lip products all in your hand.

"First is my favorite lip liner by Charlotte Tilbury in the shade 'Lip Cheat'. Then I have the Dior Lip Glow Oil in the shade 'Mahogany' which is my favorite shade in any lip product."

"I also have every single shade of the Rhode Peptide Lip Treatment which is concerning. I re-apply every second." You said as you opened one to re-apply just like you said.

"I literally just reached in this pouch and choose whatever I grab without even looking at it— I love it."

"Moving on from the lips— I have the Glossier Lash Stick. Then— what else? That's it for makeup. But I also have my Chanel Hand Cream which is a need for me since I travel a lot, and my hands get dry on planes— so yeah."

Looking down at the remaining items in the pouch, you smiled to yourself.

" Finally, perfume— mini perfumes. I always make sure that whenever I purchase perfumes I also buy the small ones so that I can bring them with me, since I don't like bringing the huge perfume bottles— it's an actual hazard."

"I love smelling... good. So, I do have several here on me. First is the Valentino 'Born in Roma' perfume — one is 'Intense' and the other is 'Coral Fantasy'. Finally—" you smiled down on the last perfume that was hidden in your palm before turning back to the camera.

"This— this is a tiny male perfume which is my boyfriend's. Uhm... he gave it to me 'cause I love how he smells." You smiled shyly as you giggled.

"Uhm...yeah, I just spray a little whenever I miss him and I'm traveling without him." You shook your head with a smile before moving on to the next pouch.

“This pouch has the important necessities. So, vitamins, medicine, pain killers— just in case anyone needs them.” You said before pulling out the next item.

“Next is this lavender essential oil which by the way, I can’t leave the house without.” You pointed at the camera to emphasize your point before showing the product.

“I need it whenever I feel nervous or anxious— I just put a little on my nose or behind my ear. Also, whenever I get motion sickness— which I get often whenever I’m in a vehicle for too long.”

“Hand sanitizer… very important.” You placed the pink spray bottle down the table before pulling out the final item in the pouch.

“And lastly, bandaids… and oh, my Tide Pen, in case I get a stain on my clothes.” You nodded as you placed every little thing back into the pouch it came from.

“This is the smallest pouch out of the three.” You said as you showed the camera the last pouch.

“It has my charger for my phone and iPad— and then my wired earphone which I only use if I feel too lazy to charge my AirPods.” You explained before reaching down to look for the thing you are looking for.

“Which leads us to— my AirPods. I live for music. So I cannot leave the house without any type of earphones on me.”

“Now the remains stuff in my bag— a scrunchie. I have mints, gums, and my favorite lozenges for my throat since I sing for a living. Gotta take care of that.” You shook the tin case of the candies as you showed them on camera.

“Passport! And my digital camera— Very important since again, I travel a lot.” You grabbed the remains items in your bag in your hands before turning to the camera.

“Last things in my bag are keys.” You shook the dangling objects that’s on both your hands.

“This is my car key. While the other one has my house keys, room key, and my studio key— and plus this right here—” you continued as you pointed at the small hanging keychain at the end.

“This is a small Lego keychain— it’s Batman in a pink tutu and wings.” You chuckled remembering how you gotten it in the first place.

“My boyfriend gave it to me one day for absolutely no reason whatsoever. We love building Legos together so it means something to the both of us— I gave him a matching one not long after. His is also Batman but in a blue bunny costume.” You laughed as the filming wrapped up.

“That’s everything in my bag.” You flipped your now empty bag upside down, showcasing how empty it indeed is.

“Thank you, Vogue for joining me!” You ended the video.

comments…

𝐟𝐚𝐧1: she’s adorable 🥹🤍

𝐟𝐚𝐧2: I legit want everything in her bad ngl

↳ 𝐟𝐚𝐧3: true 😫

𝐟𝐚𝐧4: she’s so organized… she’s me.

𝐟𝐚𝐧5: THAT BAG IS TO DIE FOR 🧡🧡🧡

↳ 𝐟𝐚𝐧6: the color is crazy pretty 🤩

𝐟𝐚𝐧7: Joe’s perfume 🥲

↳ 𝐟𝐚𝐧8: I literally screamed when she said it was his perfume.

↳ 𝐟𝐚𝐧9: JOE GAVE HER HIS PERFUME. GOODBYE.

↳ 𝐟𝐚𝐧10: I want to know what he smells like (for research obviously) did anyone see the brand!?

↳ 𝐟𝐚𝐧11: no 😫 y/n was covering it in her hand.

↳ 𝐟𝐚𝐧12: y/n lowkey gatekeeping her man’s perfume

↳ 𝐟𝐚𝐧13: she really said ‘only I get to know what he smells like’ 😆

𝐟𝐚𝐧14: her having like 10,000 lip product in her little pouch is sending me cause same.

𝐟𝐚𝐧15: the prettiest girl 🩷

𝐟𝐚𝐧16: LET ME TELL YALL SUMN. MISS Y/N SMELLS GOOD GOOD. DELECTABLE EVEN. I HAVE THAT SAME PERFUME SHE HAS AND IM TELLING YOU… AMAZING 😫

↳ 𝐟𝐚𝐧17: did I just order one to know what she smells like? Yes.

↳ 𝐟𝐚𝐧18: no cause same.

𝐟𝐚𝐧19: THE LEGO BATMAT KEYCHAIN!!!

↳ 𝐟𝐚𝐧20: Joe is the standard 🥹 cause that’s so fucking cute wtf

↳ 𝐟𝐚𝐧21: they have matching keychains… somebody sedate me fr

↳ 𝐟𝐚𝐧22: they are both Lego addicts. A match made in heaven.

𝐟𝐚𝐧23: no cause what she said about having her phone in her bag makes so much sense to me cause I too have trust issues.

𝐟𝐚𝐧24: MARRY ME 🩷

𝐟𝐚𝐧25: the only thing I can afford in this video is the sharpie 💀

↳ 𝐟𝐚𝐧26: felt.

𝐟𝐚𝐧27: don’t you just love it when Joe Burrow just gives this woman something for absolutely no reason whatsoever and it gets her so giggly and shit, cause look at her looking at that damn keychain.

↳ 𝐟𝐚𝐧28: I mean honestly, Joe could give me a grain of sand and I’d react the same way.

↳ 𝐟𝐚𝐧29: HBDHDHYEGWUWHUWIW

↳ 𝐟𝐚𝐧30: 😂😂😂

dividers: @cafekitsune

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₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ SUBMIT A REQUESTS AND ASK ME ANYTHING!

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-𝐛𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐲ఌ

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shutuperce · 6 months

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your fall 2023 byler reading list 🍂🍂

BIG BYLER FIC REC DUMP cause i haven't been writing a lot but i HAVE been reading and y'all need to read these! hope u enjoy as much as i did <3

got your spell on me, baby - @astrobei -Stranger Things (TV 2016) [Archive of Our Own]

Words: 7,919

TW: none

'To be fair, Will’s costume is great, now that Mike knows what it is. And, okay, wait-

“Oh, this is so good. This is so good.” Max points at Mike, wheezing. “Because you’re dressed as-”

Will’s still looking straight up at the sky. The length of his neck is very, very flushed. Mike can feel his entire face going redder than Vader’s lightsaber. He clenches his hands into tiny little fists, and says, around a groan: “I’m not Han Solo, guys.”'

THE halloween byler fic. the party at college, bi lucas sinclair content, halloween party shenanigans.

these nerds, using star wars to flirt 🙄

background lumax & their amazing couples costume, el & will power sibling duo!!!

bowie references to heal the soul

all in all one of my favourite getting-together fics for this time of year :)

what a match: i'm half-doomed and you're semi-sweet - @perexcri - Stranger Things (TV 2016) [Archive of Our Own]

Words: 28,150

TW: guns, blood, gore (just demodogs though no human gore)

'One month ago, if you had asked Will Byers what he’d do if Mike Wheeler threaded his fingers through his hair, looked him dead in the eyes, and started leaning in for a kiss, he wouldn’t have said this.

He wouldn’t have said he’d be staring right back into those yawning dark eyes, one hand on Mike’s waist, the other against his cheek. There wouldn’t have been any lightning in his veins or blood rushing in his ears.

He wouldn’t have said that Mike Wheeler would be tilting his head in the opposite direction, eyes widening just the slightest as if asking permission, his mouth slightly parted.

He wouldn’t have imagined it at all.'

SO SO GOOD. apocalypse post s4, background jancy and platonic stobin, interruption trope x10000 so it's SO SATISFYING at the end.

WILL WITH A GUN.

jonathan & mike solidarity <3

all in all amazingly well written mike and will being blushing messes. love them. fluff in the apocalypse.

take my hand, wreck my plans - @parkitaco - Stranger Things (TV 2016) [Archive of Our Own]

Words: 6,297

TW: discussion of past trauma

'"I am not taken," he says out of habit, even though he kind of is. He and Will aren't together - he blushes at the thought - but they do spend an awful lot of time together, and Mike doesn't ever find himself wishing he was anywhere else. "Will and I are-"

"Ooh, I didn't even say anything about Will!" Max crows. "Oh, this is excellent."

Mike hides his face in his hands even though she can't see him. "Oh my God. Can you put Lucas back on, please?"

Max cackles in to the receiver, the sound fading as Lucas presumably wrenches the phone out of her grip. "We gotta go, Mike," he says, laughing a little. "Max has class and I'm driving her."

"Tell her she's the worst," Mike grumbles, fiddling with the phone cord.

"Say hi to Will for me!" Lucas sings, and hangs up before Mike can protest.

Mike groans and flops back on his mattress. It's going to be a long year.'

part of a series!! byler college au, friends-to-lovers, background party friendship, AND THEY WERE ROOMMATES. OH MY GOD, THEY WERE ROOMMATES??

taylor swift title... do u really need any other persuasion

the whole series is just AMAZING. mike & will getting a break, living together at college and figuring shit out <3

i might be hoping about this - @astrobei - Stranger Things (TV 2016) [Archive of Our Own]

Words: 15,321

TW: none

'Will lets out a small squawk as Mike’s hand— his very cold, very freezing hand— finds its way around the blankets and under his sweater. “I’m sick, you weirdo,” he says, half-laughing into the side of Mike’s head, “I have a fever.”

“I don’t care,” Mike mumbles, “you’re warm and I’m cold. This is nice.”

“You’re going to get sick,” Will tries, for the umpteenth time, but it’s pointless. Mike Wheeler is stubborn and hardheaded and he never does anything halfway— not even this.'

established byler at college!! so yeah i have a love of college byler and this is one of my top fics for sure. 2nd astrobi fic on this list because i love their writing <3

will gets sick, mike takes care of him. need i say more?

silly goofy guys living together & doing silly goofy domestic shit

this fic makes me SOFT.

accidentally on purpose - @itsromeowrites - Stranger Things (TV 2016) [Archive of Our Own]

Words: 5,019

TW: none

'It starts out with a kiss. An accidental kiss. Because Mike is sleepy and Will is pretty, and who can really blame him? And then there's another one, just as accidental. But the third? Well, that may be a little more on purpose.'

literally smiling so hard at this fic. like hello. soft secret boyfriends and loads of party content, all the kids are okay <3

established byler, how the party finds out. all fluff all the time. jonathan attempts the Talk. mike has no idea what's going on. et cetera.

background lumax, lucas & dustin being lil shits together, and el using her powers to cheat at splashing games. all in all a good time!

and if I get burned, at least we were electrified - anonymous - Stranger Things (TV 2016) [Archive of Our Own]

Words: 14,958

TW: none

'“I’ll leave you be until lunch,” Max starts negotiating, nodding at him as if that’s a good deal. Which—considering it's Max, it is, but Mike doesn’t want to give in just yet. She sighs. “I won’t laugh about the sweater anymore. Or the weak disposition that gives you stupid allergies all the time.”

Mike’s frown deepens, but she wasn’t as mean as she could have been, so he’s gonna take it. He needs to get this out anyways, or he’s going to keep running in circles as if stuck in a hamster wheeler—an accurate representation of his brain when it comes to Will, really. He presses his lips together and tries to figure out a subtle, non-funny way to say it, but he comes up blank.

Fuck, whatever: “I almost kissed Will. Again.”

Max actually has to cover her mouth with her hand, disguising a worryingly loud snort with a cough. The teacher turns their way and stares, then goes back to explaining the exercise on the board. Mike scribbles it down while Max gets herself under control.

Screw his life.'

senior year, post-vecna. the party being friends but also little shits to each other.

madwheeler bandmates!!!

will steals mike's entire closet

they are Dumb Idiots who are mutually pining from afar

and other lovable tropes. takes place in november so good fall vibes :)

#perce reads #byler #byler fanfic #fic recs #byler fic recs

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ihavethedreamies · 27 days

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Peach | Jaemin

Na Jaemin - NCT Dream

Rating: M (18+) MDNI

Word Count: ~2.5k

Pairing: Jaemin x AFAB!Reader

Genre: Reader-Insert, Smut, Established Relationship, Porn without Plot

!!This is smut…if that much isn't clear you should probably leave now!! MDNI!

Warnings: She/Her Pronouns used, Swearing, Kissing, Oral (M! & F! Receiving/Anal), Anal Play, Sex Toys (Butt Plug, Butterfly Vibrator), Deepthroating/Face-Fucking, Rough Sex, Squirting, Daddy Kink (he calls himself that once), Unprotected Sex (Don’t!!)

Summary: Jaemin isn't too happy his girlfriend doesn't like peaches…

Author's Note: This series was supposed to be of drabbles, at least this is the longest.

This is only vaguely based off of Smoothie…I say this because I got the idea for a fruit theme, but past that its unrelated.

🍉 Mark 🍉

🍇 Renjun 🍇

🍌 Jeno 🍌

🍒 Haechan 🍒

🍓 Chenle 🍓

🍍 Jisung 🍍

I am cross-posting this on Archive. Please reblog! If you know anyone that would like this or future fics but they aren't on here my name and icon are exactly the same on the other site. Happy reading!

"You really don't like peaches?" Your boyfriend looked at you, looked utterly dejected at this new information. You sighed, flapping the produce bag so it would open, holding it to him. He dumped the five peaches into the bag he had carefully cradled in his arms and then added two more for good measure. As you put the bag in the cart you shrugged.

"I will eat them sometimes. They just are…weird."

"Weird how?" Jaemin took the cart from your grasp so he could push it for you.

"Why are they fuzzy?" You were a bit ashamed to admit why you disliked them so much. The texture was just so odd, it was like velvet. And you hated velvet too, it was unnatural. You much preferred nectarines, of a similar vein but NOT fuzzy.

"But they are so sweet and juicy…" He stopped to send you a mischievous look, "like you." He booped your nose with his finger then continued on, leaving you staring after him in disgust.

"Why do I love you?" You mumbled, trudging after him.

"Because I'm sweet and juicy too." He replied way too casually. You rolled your eyes and you two continued to shop, eventually getting the canned food. You grabbed a couple of different things, and you watched him put a can of pre-cut peaches in.

"We're buying fresh ones." You took it back out so he would put it back.

"These aren't fuzzy, maybe you'll like these." Jaemin tipped the can back and forth in your face, putting it in the cart once again. They weren't expensive, so you just let it happen. In the candy isle, you looked for your favorite kind and he came over with some Japanese brand of chewy candies, and they were peach flavored.

"Seriously?"

"I will convince you to like something peach. Don't make me get the Crush soda!" He pointed at you, finger close but not touching your forehead. Sighing you dropped the issue, finishing shopping then going back home. You sat at the counter eating some chips as he put the rest of the groceries away, he wouldn't let you help. He said it was because you were too short to reach everything, but he really just liked spoiling you. When he was done, he brought over the bag of peaches, setting each one on the counter in a row, smallest to largest.

"What the hell are you doing?" You asked, not sure you wanted to know the answer. He didn't answer, taking the can of peaches, opening it, and placing seven of the slices on a paper plate. In front of each peach, he put one of the candies.

"What. Are. You. Doing?" You reiterated and he held up his hand, telling you to wait.

"If you eat a certain number of each one, I will do different things for you."

"Like what?"

"What do you think, baby girl?" He leaned on the counter, smirking and you shuffled in your seat under his intense gaze. Clearing your throat, you closed the chip bag and shoved them to the side.

"Alright. What are they?"

"One candy equals one minute of making out." He pointed at each one. Jaemin moved to the slices on the plate.

"One is I'll let you ride my thigh." You nodded for him to continue.

"Two, I'll get you off with my fingers. Three, your vibrator. Four I'll let you suck me off at the same time. Six, I'll cum in your mouth, and all seven I'll fuck your face." He listed off, recognizing the look on your face with each level. He knew you too well. You swallowed hard and he flashed a devilish grin.

"Okay, what about those." You nodded toward the full fruits. He held one up.

"If you only eat one of these, I'll have you sit on my face. If you do all the other ones, plus one of these…" He drifted off, trying to keep his face flat, but he was still smirking. Your eyes followed his hand as he put the fruit down and pulled a bottle out of his pocket you had no idea was there. He set it down, the fluid inside was a peachy color…

"I'll use this." Jaemin leaned back against the counter opposite the island as you looked at the bottle.

"Real original. Peach flavored butt lube…" You sighed, but your cunt clenched at the thought. You had been talking about experimenting…

"Okay, deal." You agreed, holding your hand out to shake and he grinned.

"You sure, baby?"

"We'll see." You shrugged, trying to stay nonchalant. You were a little nervous, the last time you had canned peaches, you gagged at the slimy texture. The candies weren't too worrying, the artificial flavor was probably quite different from real peaches. He took you hand and shook it, leaning back again, nodding for you to start. Unwrapping the first gummy, you slid it into your mouth, the sugar decorating the outside rough on your tongue as your teeth sank in. It really wasn't too bad, though you wouldn't go out of your way to buy any.

"One minute." You started, unwrapping the next gummy. After you had chewed and eaten all seven, Jaemin smirked, coming around the island, and pulling off the stool to him. As he brought you to and settled on the couch, he set a timer for seven minutes, cracking some joke about seven minutes in heaven, then hauled you down onto his lap. He groaned exaggeratedly as he pulled you down to seal your lips with his, tongue already snaking its way into your mouth. Your head swam as Jaemin kissed you, he really was too good at it. You felt a bit of saliva drip down your chin, he was rough and noisy. You both were sucking air in harshly through your noses since you couldn't use you mouths, but not wanting to cut short the seven minutes in any way. When his phone alarm went off, his hand buried in your air and forced you to pull back from the kiss. You were both panting, but you were way more than him, with that stupid cocky grin on his ridiculously attractive face. With ease, he stood, you still on his lap. This forced you to wrap your legs and arms around him with a yipe and he went back to the kitchen, setting you on the island counter. He slid the plate over to you, grabbing a spare plastic fork and handing it over. This was more nerve wracking for you. You pondered if literally swallowing the slices whole would be less skeevy than chewing them since they got kind of rubbery in the can. Taking the first piece, you brought it to you lips, cringing at the taste of the syrup they put in the can to keep them the right texture. Sliding it in, the slippery texture made you gag slightly, so you just bit it in half, then swallowed both pieces. Thinking of it like a medication pill made it go down easier, since those weren't supposed to be appetizing.

"Thigh." He recited, stepping forward even further, standing between your legs where you sat on the counter. You swallowed again, making sure the pieces were done and then proceeded to do it again. The flavor wasn't too bad, but the texture was still unpleasant.

"Fingers." Another, swallowing both halves.

"Vibe."

"My cock." He placed his thumb over your lip, swiping a bit of the syrup away.

"My cum." You licked you lips that time, swallowing hard to get the rest of the sixth piece down. When you finally ate the last slice, he smiled deviously, running his index finger down your throat, as if following the fruit as you swallowed it. Before you could do anything yourself, he pulled away, dashing to the bedroom, coming back out with your butterfly vibrator. He came back over, pulling your butt to the edge, running his hand up your thigh and under your skirt. You shifted so he could flip it up, smiling at your pink panties. He pulled them to the side, your slick letting the silicone head of the small vibrator slide in easily. You shivered a bit as he got it all in and let your underwear settle back in place, the wings of the bottom of the toy cupping your whole cunt. He helped you off the counter, and you got on your knees in front of him. As you pulled his hard cock out of his sweat pants, you whined, lapping up the drop of precum beaded at his head. Jaemin smirked, holding the remote for you to see, then turning it on. Your breath hitched as he increased the intensity, you squatted further so the base of the toy hit the floor, allowing you to press it into your more. Opening your mouth wide, you sat like a good girl as he took his cock in his hand, leading it in. Listening to you breathe roughly through your nose, he kept going, filling your throat with his cock. Your eyes rolled back at the sensation, loving the feeling of your throat trying to accommodate but not gag. Jaemin just held his cock there, your nose pressed to his groin, your hips rutting against your toy. When he could tell you needed to breathe, he pulled his hips back enough to allow you respite, then started to thrust his hips. Every fifth thrust, he shoved his cock as deep as he could, his palm laying over your throat feeling it stretch with his girth. He groaned loudly, he always did.

"Fuck, baby girl~" Your eyes were watering, tears flowing over your cheeks, breaths harsh through your nose and he knew you were close like him. His thumb hit the button the remote again and at the new intensity, you hit your climax, your moan around his cock helping him finish as well. You nearly sobbed as hot, thick spurts of his cum went straight down your throat. It seemed to never end, and your vision blurred from lack of air. Jaemin noticed and pulled halfway out, a few small spurts of cum still leaving his cock, then pulled out completely so you could suck in oxygen. His cock was a mess of saliva and release. Panting from where you squatted on the floor, you watched him shut the toy off, sighing in relief, and he picked up the full peach that time.

"Undress and get on the bed." He ordered and you scrambled to do so, sliding the toy out and throwing it in the bathroom sink. You slid your clothes off and sat at the end of the bed like a good girl, he came in not even a minute later, only in his pants and holding the peeled and cut fruit on a plate in his hand. Setting it down next to you, he went to the nightstand and got the plug you had bought last week.

"Start." You hadn’t made good on the deal yet, but he knew you would. When you picked up the first piece, you were relieved it wasn't nearly as slimy or sticky as the canned stuff, but you were kind of full from the previous parts, as well as what you swallowed of Jaemin's release. You were feeling impatient, so you scarfed it down, shocking him a bit, but you were licking the last of the juice off your fingers when he came to stand in front of you. He had given you the smaller one luckily, so you didn't have much to eat.

"Roll over, get on your knees." He smacked your ass lightly and you crawled up the bed, doing so, face on the sheets, butt in the air. He grinned, your slick folds had dripped down over your pucker. He opened the cap of the bottle, you shivered when the slightly cold fluid hit your rim. You had expected the tip of his finger, or even the end of the plug, but you gasped when instead, his tongue ran around your back entrance. It was peach flavored not just scented.

"Fuck, 'Min." It was an odd sensation, but not totally unwelcome. He noted that the lube had a very artificial taste, he much preferred the real thing, but if it was you he eating instead, that was fine. After a few minutes, he pulled his face away, licking his lips, then picked up the plug.

The toy was pretty small, but he still slathered it in lube, as well as your rim. He watched the muscle flutter around the silicone, and you whined a bit.

"Breathe." He coached and slid the plug into your ass. Your breath hitched, then you sighed and relaxed once it was in.

"How's that, baby girl?" Jaemin stroked the skin of your ass cheek with his thumb, your cunt visibly fluttering.

"W-weird." You admitted, and he hummed.

"Jaemin~" You practically squealed when the head of his dick ran through your slick folds, but he was taking his take actually starting to press in.

"Please!" You wanted to cry, needing him and so he relented, sliding home. You let out a slight choking noise, the burn of his cock stretching you so fast and hard, along with the plug in your ass, was overwhelming. He was nice enough to let you adjust to the new sensation of having something in both wholes, but it always took a while for you to get used to his cock. From behind he reached the deepest part of your cunt, and your tight gummy walls gripped to every ridge and vein of him. There was no verbal warning for him starting, but you saw his hands rest on and grip the head board, prompting you to do the same with the sheets.

"Fuck, princess!" He laughed in glee, not trying to be gentle in any sense, bullying his cock into your pussy as hard as he could, like he was rearranging your insides. Each thrust took your breath away, making you nearly hyperventilate. He was spewing the sweetest filth, praising you and your cute little cunt. How well you took his fat cock, and how much he loved fucking you stupid. You could barely babble in reply, tiny orgasms washing over you over and over.

"J-J-Jaemin-!" You dug your teeth into the pillow, the next wave coming was much stronger.

"Okay, baby girl, cum for daddy~" He chuckled as you whimpered, another hand thrust, and he was even taken away by your orgasm. Your cunt clenched even tighter around his cock than he thought possibly, spurts of slick spilling from your cunt, dripping and puddling onto the sheets. It was too much, too hot, that he made a few more shallow thrusts, then spilled inside you. You milked him dry, it felt like, and it made an even bigger mess. He sat inside you till he had nearly softened all the way, letting you calm down some and slowly pulling out. His finger circled the base of the plug, the end of it had a little emoji peach on it.

"You like peaches now, princess?”

🍉 Mark 🍉

🍇 Renjun 🍇

🍌 Jeno 🍌

🍒 Haechan 🍒

🍓 Chenle 🍓

🍍 Jisung 🍍

Masterlist

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rubykgrant · 2 months

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Idea for a Magnus Archives AU (that I don't have time to write all the way out, but it still intrigues me~)

At some point after Martin's father left, but when he was still very young, somebody offered to bring Mrs Blackwood some furniture. Used, but still in good condition. She refused, insulted by the idea that she needed "pity" or "charity", despite the fact that her health is already making things difficult... one day, while her son is at school, she hears a knock at the door. It takes her a while to get there. When she finally opens it, whoever knocked is gone, but they have left behind a table.

She assumes it was the same person as before, and is now irritated that they have "dumped" their old junk on her doorstep. A neighbor sees and offers to at least bring it inside. She decides it may as well be put to use, so she lets the neighbor move it in. Alone in the house, she looks the table over. It certainly isn't new, but isn't too beat-up or broken. It has a VERY unique pattern... almost like an optical illusion...

When Martin gets home from school, he's surprised to see that his mother is in the kitchen, getting ready to cook dinner; she hasn't done that in a year! He offers to help, or just make himself a sandwich and canned soup if she wants to rest, but she assures him that she's feeling MUCH better. This continues for several months, the doctors are amazed by what seems to be a miracle recovery! All the neighbors and old friends agree, she's also had a change in attitude lately, but it all seems for the better. Her son is especially happy... his mother seems so much more "gentle" than she used to be, and she doesn't even make him drink oolong tea with her anymore. She's decided that Earl Grey is better.

Nobody notices that her hair is a different length, a different color. Nobody notices the shape of her eyes and jawline has changed. Nobody notices that she's taller. Not any friends, neighbors, doctors, or family. Even all the photographs in the house have changed. A different woman is holding a tiny, newborn baby. A different woman is sitting next to a small Christmas tree, helping a child open a present. Nobody notices... except for one person.

When Mr Blackwood heard from an old friend that the wife he left had recovered, he suddenly had second thoughts. He really had thought she would die, and he must have had some sort of break-down. He couldn't handle it, so he ran away... but he's thinking clearly again. It has nothing to do with the fact that he also heard his wife recently got a new job, a very well-paying one with the kind of health plan that a spouse could share. It has nothing to do with the fact that he isn't feeling well himself lately, and he's noticed that he has nobody to take care of HIM. It has nothing to do with the fact that he hasn't been able to find work, and he also can't find a place to live. He just wants to go back because he misses his wife and son. That's all.

When Mr Blackwood returned, he brought flowers. To apologize. He knocked on the door, and heard a muffled voice call- "Come in!". He picked a time of day when he knew Martin would be at school, so he and his wife could reunite with some privacy. He expected his wife to be upset. He expected his wife to be angry, maybe cry, or try to throw something at him. He expected it would take time for his wife to let him explain, then forgive him. He expected HIS WIFE. The woman in this home was not his wife... she said she was, she smiled, used his name like she knew him, but she WASN'T. Her voice, face, EVERYTHING was different! This was wrong, why was this strange woman here?

He ran away, even though she called for him to stay. He tried to speak with their friends, her family... everybody acted like he was crazy. They acted like the woman claiming to be his wife was right. After months and months of trying to talk some sense into people, he finally remembers Martin; surely a child would know their own mother? Mr Blackwood has been watching the house, and he sees little Martin kiss the woman good-bye, then leave for school. As if everything was normal. He can't stand it anymore! He bursts through the door, shouting at the woman to tell the truth, but the noise alerts the neighbors, who call for help, and he leaves...

He stays away for more than a year, but he never went far. He kept watching. He tried to figure out WHY somebody would pretend to be his wife, and HOW she could fool everybody. It never makes any sense. He comes back again, in the middle of winter. Martin is sleeping over at a friend's house. Mr Blackwood has been sleeping in an old treehouse, long abandoned by the kids who built it. He can't stand the idea of that strange woman sleeping in the bed that SHOULD be his (that would have been his, if he hadn't left). He uses his key to open the back door. She hasn't changed the locks. He goes in, ready to be rough if necessary; he will get the truth if it kills him.

Around 2 in the morning, Mrs Blackwood calls for help. Her husband, the one who left her, the one who came back and threatened her, just tried to attack her! She fought back, and he ran off again. No trace of him is ever found. When Martin comes home, they have a discussion, and decide it isn't safe to life here anymore. So they move, not too far, Martin can still visit people he knew growing up. The new house is much nicer, in a safe neighborhood.

They take just about everything with them, except for a few large pieces of furniture they sell. Mrs Blackwood wants to keep the table with the unique pattern, though. She's grown rather fond of it. The movers she hired are... odd, but they get everything to the new home very quickly. When his mother speaks with the two of them beside their truck, Martin watches from a window, and he has the strangest feeling that... his mother might just step up into it, and ride away with them. Then she'll be gone, and he'll be alone. He can't explain why, but he almost expects it to happen.

She doesn't leave. She comes back inside, smiling, and hugs her child. Why wouldn't she? As the years go by, Martin wonders about his father; why the man left, why he came back, why he seemed so confused about who his own wife was. Martin also wonders what his father looked like, as none of the pictures they saved show his face. Mrs Blackwood tells her son- "I suppose there's a resemblance, but when I look at you, I just see YOU, not him. I love you too much to see your father in your features".

Martin grows up happy and safe with his mother. He's able to finish school, and eventually starts working at a bakery. Later, when he moves out to get his own place, he finds a job at a restaurant-confectionery in London. His mother didn't want him living so far away, but he really wants to sort of "get out in the world", have some experience on his own. Someday, he'd like to have his own tea shop and cafe. He works from the middle of the day to late shifts at the cafe, and he gets to know some of the regulars very well. One woman, Sasha, comes in often to get food and drinks for her coworkers. Martin likes chatting with her, and eventually meets Tim when they come to have lunch together. He considers them to be friends.

One day, they call and tell Martin they want to order the most extravagant cake possible for their boss; it is his birthday, and they are going to be obnoxious about it, but also trick him so he doesn't know they've planned something. Martin offers to bring it over himself, so they can pretend to not be up to anything. This is how he enters the Magnus Institute. This is how he meets Jonathan Sims. This is how he starts learning about the strange things they research here. This is how he sees a picture of a table with a very curious pattern. This is how he asks if he can listen to the statement about that table...

#the magnus archives #martin blackwood

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amica-aenigmata-naboo · 6 months

Text

700 Years

Astarion x Y/N - drabble - 1.6K WC

Masterlist

Warnings: sexual servitude briefly described in regards to Y/N (concubus), soft Haarlep (he is baby i love him so much), Raphael (enough said), fluffffff

Part 2

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

You heard the defenses of the door fade away. You laid unmoving, naked on the massive bed. The intruders gawked at you but you did not speak.

A tall tiefling made her way to you before gently shaking you a bit. Your eyes flit to hers, “Yes?” you asked.

“Who are you?” said the Selune follower.

“I am Y/N. One of Raphael’s concubus.” you said sitting up.

“But you’re a mortal?” questioned the vampire.

“Always read the fine print when you make a deal with the devil.” you mumbled. “Now, has the master sent you here for me to please you? All of you?” you said moving to sit on your knees.

“The devil imprisoned you as a concubus to serve him?” the vampire asked.

“No, he imprisoned me to serve his guests… Tell me fangs, how do you like it?” you said, leaning towards him with a seductive smile.

“That’s awful.” Karlach said not even realizing it slipped out.

“The devil isn’t a good guy? I’m shocked.” you said sarcastically.

“If you can help us, we can save you.” said the githyanki in the back of the group.

You quirked your eyebrow, wondering if this was a test from Raphael. Whatever the punishment would be for even saying you wanted to leave was enough to send a shiver down your spine. “I am not allowed to leave.” you said, pointing to the chain around your ankle that kept you bound to the bed.

The adventurers eyed each other, unsure of what to do exactly. “The Orphic Hammer is in the archive, say “give me my heart's desire” and take it… quick before he comes back.”

Everyone nodded and started to run towards the archive, leaving you on the cold bed. Everyone except a certain vampire. He shook his head at the door, eyeing you before running back over to you. You watched him in stunned silence as he quickly made work of the complex lock chaining you to the bed.

“What are you doing? You’re wasting your time.” you whispered to him.

“I was locked in sexual servitude for 200 years, call me soft for not wanting to leave you in the same state.” said the vampire as the final click of the lock snapped.

“I haven’t been free of that chain in 100 years…” you whispered while silent tears fell from your eyes.

Astarion looked at you confused, “Human, but not mortal?”

You laughed out breathily. “Raphael keeps what’s his forever. He made me eternally youthful so his guests would be… eternally entertained.”

“How long?” he asked, afraid to know the answer.

“What year is it?” you asked, trying to give an accurate calculation.

“1490” he said quickly.

“Really?... I’ve been down here for 700 years… that is… um…” you felt your chest fill with dread. Everything and everyone you knew was gone. You were truly and completely alone.

“I don’t mean to be insensitive to what you’re going through right now but maybe we can sulk back at camp once we’ve escaped the hells?” he asked, standing you up and grabbing you random clothes he found strewn on the floor.

“Thank you…” you said. You felt detached from your body, your eyes had tunnel vision and you felt weak.

“Astarion,” he said.

“Thank you Astarion.” you nodded gently.

“Astarion! We have company!” the tiefling yelled from the door, holding the hammer.

“Stay here, you can’t fight.” Astarion said, rushing the door. You followed him, grabbing his arm before he made the door. He could see it in your eyes. Fear. “I will come back for you as soon as Raphael is dead. I swear it.” he said.

Your grip on him loosened. All you could do was trust him. He left and you heard a never ending commotion from down the hall. You looked around the room searching for one specific thing, you knew Raphael wouldn’t throw away something so valuable, you just had to find it. You tried to open the opulent chest in the corner of the room, Raphael had chained you to the bed because you so much as touched the chest 100 years ago.

“Looking for something little mouse?” said Haarlep from the doorway. He looked ravishing as always and a sinister smile graced his face.

You rushed to him and hugged him immediately. Haarlep had been your one comfort in the House of Hope. When Raphael found that you and Haarlep were friends he moved Haarlep to a separate room just for them. That was 300 years ago, you hadn’t seen him since.

He held you tightly. You two were bonded on a level not many could say they were. He understood your pain, and you understood his. He had been enduring it long before you had but you weren’t from the hells. You were some poor paladin who made a deal to save their lover… only for said lover to abandon you with Raphael. You were a beauty, that was undeniable. Raphael found a use for you in his demented little home.

“It’s time for me to go.” you said, holding his face.

He didn’t want you to leave, but he knew this place was not for you. He wanted you to be able to live life, you couldn’t do that here. “I suppose it is.” he smiled sadly at you. He enchanted the chest, unlocking it. There, in all its glory, was the armor you arrived in. Hell Dusk armor. With a snap of Haarlep’s fingers you adorned your armor. You felt powerful, your oath was long broken but you felt the power of the dark. It warmed you like an old friend.

“Goodbye little mouse.” Haarlep said, caressing your cheek. You smiled up at him, both of you feeling the weight of this bittersweet moment.

“Leave with me?” you begged him.

Astarion rushed back into the room, “We have to leave now.” he said, barely acknowledging the devil.

“Go little mouse. My place is here.” Haarlep adorned your neck with a necklace, the flick of his wrist poofing it into place. It was an infernal marble tied with a simple string. “Come tell me about your adventures in a few hundred years.” he said, smoothing his thumbs over your never ending tears. You nodded quickly, placing a quick kiss to his lips. Astarion grabbed your hand and started to lead you out.

“Keep them safe.” was all Haarlep said to Astarion before disappearing into a cloud of black smoke.

—————————

You escaped the hells and followed the adventurers to their camp. Everyone introduced themselves on the way. You noticed that Astarion hadn’t let your hand go yet, despite danger no longer being imminent. When you got to camp, you stayed with him. Feeling a sort of… comfort with him since he is the only one who stayed with you.

Astarion was soft towards you, surprising even himself. All he could hear in his head was you saying 700. Living over twice as long as he had, he can’t imagine how Raphael had abused you. It broke his undead heart. He felt a sense of responsibility towards you. To protect you and care for you and show you the world might not be so bad. To guide you. Nobody had helped him and it was miserable. He was broken out of his trance by the sound of your armor being taken off. He looked at you, watching layer upon layer fade away. He saw the various scars that adorned your body. What in the hells had been done to you?

“Everyone had different pleasurable appetites in the hells… I had to indulge them.” you said running your fingers over some of your more lengthy and prominent scars.

Astarion gently held his hand out to you, afraid that if he touched you first in this moment you might recoil. He was shocked when you took his hand and kissed his palm.

“Thank you…. for saving me. You didn’t have to. I’ll be useful to your team and fiercely loyal to you of course. Whatever you want of me, consider it yours.” Your eyes grew distant. He knew that look, he had worn it for 200 years. You were waiting for him to use you, your body specifically.

Astarion pulled his hand away from you and gave you some loose fitting clothes. “You belong to yourself. You’re free now, you decide what happens to you.” You held the clothes but didn’t move.

“Strange to be free. The hells were home for 700 years. Everything I’ve ever known of this world has changed.” You spoke aloud, unsure if Astarion cared enough to listen.

“You miss your lover?” Astarion said inquisitively.

“Lover?” You asked confused.

Astarion pointed to your necklace, the infernal marble felt warm in your hand. “Haarlep wasn’t my lover, he was my friend. My only friend… Raphael… made us do things together for the entertainment of his guests… but we weren’t lovers. We were equals, stuck in the same awful predicament. He was always good to me.” You trailed off softly, missing Haarlep immensely.

Astarion understood, he felt as if you and him were connected purely through the trauma others had inflicted upon you both.

“I’m sorry… I know this must all be difficult but, you’re here now. Relatively safe, with somewhat normal companions. You’re welcome to stay if you’d like.” He said, secretly hoping you’d stay.

“If I stay, can I stay near you?” You asked uneasy.

“I don’t see why not, you haven’t proven burdensome yet.” He said with his eternal smirk present.

You smiled. Today was full of more smiles than the past 100 years. “Then I’ll stay.”

Hello lovelies! I hope you're all doing well :) here is another fic, I think I might try to put one more out before work on Monday. Maybe this one could become a series if y'all like it that much? Idk I'm just doing my own thing until I get requests.... Thanks you for the likes, comments, reblogs, and motivation! Stay safe out there ilysm <3

#baldurs gate 3 #astarion x tav #bg3 #astarion x reader #writing #bg3 wyll #gale of waterdeep #karlach #lae'zel #blade of frontiers #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate oc #baldurs gate astarion #bg3 astarion #astarion #isekai #astarion x you #baulders gate 3 #baldurs gate

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s3thwrit3sstuff · 3 months

Text

❝ Comin’ back for more? ❞

warnings: yandere!leon and yandere!reader, piquerism, carving his name into r! skin, blood kink, overstimulation, leon takes pictures and videos of r!, dumbification, AFAB terminology (clit referred to as dick), use of boypussy & boy cunt.

“Actually,” Leon sighs, “I was gonna ask if you’ve seen him.”

Her shock is evident but to Leon’s surprise, it turns into exasperation.

“Do I have to spell it out for you, Kennedy?” Ashley puts her hands on her hips and then points a finger at his way.

“He likes you. (Y/N) (L/N). He likes you, Leon Kennedy. So,” she comes around to him and despite the height difference, Leon feels slightly intimidated by her frown.

“Just fuck his brains out and tell him you’re not gonna let him go! That’s the only way you’re getting through to him, okay? God, I swear the both of you are so dimwitted!”

authors' note: heed the warnings, leon and y/n are high-key deranged, lmao. also i wrote this in a rush but enjoy!!

“Do you think he’s like…big?”

That alone was enough to make you rip your eyes away from your laptop. She chews on her glossy lip, twisting her phone to show you a Tinder profile of some douchebag that checks off everything on her list.

Awkwardly angled photos to show his jawline? Check.

Dimples? Check.

Two pairs of horrendous matching sweats? Check

A random photo of him holding some poor relative's baby to appeal to women? Check.

“Surprised he didn’t leap out from your brain,” your dry tone makes Ashley pout. “Honestly, be a little proud of me, (Y/N). He’s not holding a fish,” she turns the phone to herself. Pursing your lips, you return your attention to the report that’s been rotting in your laptop.

“Yeah, his sister is probably relieved her baby’s face is plastered on a hook-up app.” Ashley reaches over and smacks your hand. The yelp you let out turns a few heads; dark eyebags and caffeine-fueled veins already making them irritable. Exclamations of pain weren’t appreciated.

“You’re such a pessimist, (Y/N). I swear I have no idea how we ended up being friends.” An attempt was made at stifling your laughter but it tumbles out from between your fingers in quick intakes of breaths. The glaring turns into mumbling but none would speak up. Between Ashley’s status and your own, along with your golden reputation, no one could find themselves wishing ill upon the both of you.

Ashley was from a wealthy family. All you'd need to do is look at her to see she was dripped in luxury brands that were so exclusive you probably never heard of them. She met you through one of her mother's annual parties. It was an attempt on her end to play matchmaker with Ashley so she was quick to push Ashley and your sibling together.

Unfortunately for her, both you and your sibling were queer. Ashley was just glad to have real friends. How did the saying go? You win some, you lose some?

"You have your mother to thank for that. Remember how she was convinced you were a lesbian because we kept hanging out? Before I came out and everything." Ashley rolled her eyes, leaning on her elbow as she scrolled through the array of people with mild interest.

“Woah, what was that for?” Her lack of reply makes your brows raise. Closing your laptop, you reach a hand out to swipe her phone away. She gasps, attempting to swipe it back but you lean back on the chair, balancing precariously on its two legs. “Give it back, you ass,” she hisses, still trying to keep her voice low as she raises from her seat. Exiting from Tinder, your thumbs work deftly to open her messages and scoff as you go through her archived chats to see her mother’s messages were there. “You put your mom in archive jail? Woah, she must have really pissed you off,” she grunts as she tugs her phone back into her hands. You let her, folding your arms behind your head as she taps out from your intrusion. “What’s up? Did she bug you about university again? I swear she’s as anal about making those planners as you are.” “As opposed to how you live through life relying simply on your phone’s battery? Not to mention, you keep overcharging the hell out of your phone too. You should really change it — “ Ashley tucks her hand to her chest as you stand up, your chair banging as you ground it before you do so. At this point, a few people have plugged in their earphones anyway. “You’re stalling, Ms Graham.”

Ashley does this thing with her mouth. Sucking in her cheeks and chewing the insides as she contemplates spilling the metaphorical can of beans. It seems she relents as she settles next to you. There’s a sense of gratitude in her eyes as your knees are now facing her as you sit.

“These recent killings, it’s got her on edge,” she said. “She’s even been telling me I should have an escort everywhere I go. I don’t know, I just want to be normal. It’s hard enough that people treat me more like a concept or a walking ATM — an escort would just further that divide.”

A glance over her shoulder makes her words more concrete. Their eyes were clear in their intentions; flashes of green embedded in the very whites of their gelatinous orbs. Whether it was envy or greed was hard to decipher but it was clear Ashley wasn’t a person to them. She was a myth brought to life.

“You told her that?” she pushes her lips forward into a pout and you cock a brow. “Like she’d let that be an excuse. I understand her concerns but I’m not a damsel in distress. The Ghostface killings aren’t even aimed at this university, they’re completely random.”

“But you gotta admit, the close proximity would set anyone on edge. Your mother just happened to be someone who was born right on it,” you reach over to poke her cheek and she swats your hand away with a huff. “Can’t you ask her to hire secret agents instead? At least that way, nobody will see them.”

Ashley groans out that you’re the opposite of being helpful. Her phone buzzes in her hand and whatever she reads is clearly exciting enough for her to completely drop the conversation because she reaches forward and smacks your knees so hard it jerks up involuntarily.

“(Y/N), look!”

You’re half-expecting a new Tinder profile but instead, it’s a shittily made poster for a Frat Party. The curling of your lips has Ashley whining and she inches closer — her knees now between yours — as she wags the phone a bit.

“Dude, c’mon! We gotta go, everyone will be there!”

And if everyone was there, Ashley would have to be there too.

“Yeah, what better way to piss off your mother than to go to an overcrowded and overrated Frat Party,” you reply dryly. High schoolers made better posters. This one with the Comic Sans font, blurry PNGs of the hang-tight emoji, and Rick Sanchez lowered your confidence in the Earth's crust. Ashley scoffs.

“Shut up. Besides, the only reason you don’t want to go is because Mr Waitlist will be there,” she dodges your attempt to smack her arm. “Seriously, I have no idea why you choose to be in denial about your feelings for him. The chemistry between you two is insane. It’s almost sickening.”

“Almost? Guess we should try harder,” you mutter as you turn to face your laptop again. Ashley does not relent. “You should. I agree. It’s obvious you two like each other. I’ve already made a wedding plan for you.”

“Ashley,” you groan out. “Nothing is happening. We’re just...close friends.” "Again. Stage 1, denial," your eye-roll makes her inch closer and closer. "Not that anyone would blame you. He looks like some European model even with those weird side-part bangs." "Ashley." The finality in your tone makes her giggle. "(Y/N). You're attracted to him. The second you see him I swear your pupils just blow up bigger than when you're on molly. What's stopping you from just being exclusive-style?" Knowing she won't stop her sudden fixation on the topic, your shoulders droop just as you slip down your chair. Sinking deeper into your oversized hoodie, you sigh and attempt to entertain her as your fingers hover over your keyboard.

"We tried, but it didn't work, Ashley."

"Barely, tried. You had one foot out of the door before the relationship even started. I still remember you trying to keep it a secret, that's not trying that's giving up with extra steps!"

The violent shushing of a particularly peeved student causes Ashley to flinch. Pink dusts across her milky skin and she bows her head apologetically, her teethy grin gone in an instant. He seems satisfied with her expression. That quickly fades when he sees the stare you give him; his brows furrow and he frowns with a slow curl of his nose. Like a kitten hissing.

You recognize him from some of the classes you took. He was the kind of guy who'd continue to badger the professor with questions, acting so smug as he did so and never catching how exasperated they'd be. Obscenely polite because his parents were big spenders in the university's bank account. His greasy fingerprints on the steel frame of his glasses and pathetic excuse of a beard piss you off enough to curl your lips into a wicked grin.

"Sorry, were we too loud?"

The apricot sweater he wears reeks of cologne, the kind that pierces your nose and makes your eyes water from how strong it is. As he lifts his arms to cross it, Ashley straightens her back to put more distance between him.

"The two of you have been loud the second you got here." There's more he wants to say, the twitching of his lips and the tightening of his fingers prove that much. But you're staring up at him like you know something he doesn't — an omen is within your eyes and the chill it gives him shuts him up enough to leave with a comical stomp and huff.

Ashley cringes, glancing around to see if anyone felt the same as he did but is distracted by your question. "Everyone is invited to that party?" Excitement flashes in her eyes as she sees the same in yours.

"Fine. I'll go too."

The music is so loud you're convinced it's rattling your bones. People are spilling out from the threshold of doors, and windows, on the stairs and the porch, and possibly on the sloped roofs of the house. The lights are everchanging. Streams of neon blue, green, and red are flashing through the fog that's flowing down from the corners of the room. The scents. The sounds. The feeling of bodies bumping into you no matter where you walk. It was a goddamn watering hole.

You had come here with Ashley, but she split off with some of her girlfriends. Last time you checked, she'd been invested in some girl's sob story as they crowded around her with red cups in their hands and slurred words. Ashley had given you a grimace but gestured for you to just enjoy herself.

You'd try to but there'd be no point in doing so considering how vapid everyone was.

So you nurse your drink in the corner, back facing the stairs, and smile as people walk by or above you. The music isn't all that bad, typical party music with some early 2000s songs that earns a good 'oh fuck, this is my song!' from the crowd.

Scanning the front door, watching every face that comes in, your hunger becomes more and more endless. Like a predator digging its claws into the bark of trees, you're restless in that little shroud of camouflage; shifting your weight from one side to the other, sighs escaping liquor-flavoured lips; grin getting more and more grim.

The touch on your nape has your head tilting away from him. Those calloused fingerpads — which not many people in this slice of "heaven" had — press into the solid bone on your nape; it elicits a barely there moan and your features soften immediately.

The cup he's holding is perspiring in his hands and you've spent enough time under his hands to know it had every right to be red and sweating. Deft fingers pinch the rim of your cup and you give him no resistance as he pulls it away to trade his drink.

"Thought you said you didn't wanna be here, Trustfund," Leon said as he leaned on the wooden panels of the walls. The shoulder bump he did is deliberate, a soothing croon to ask you to stop staring people down the second they enter the house.

"What gave you that impression, Waitlist?"Leon grunts, downing what little is left in your cup down his throat. Risking a glance away from the entrance, your eyes chase after the trail of wetness that slithers down his chin. God, he was gorgeous. A face so pretty it's no wonder he pisses off other men around him. His odd, dry, humour doesn't exactly help either.

"The lack of replies to my messages, maybe, geez, who knows."

"Oh, poor Leon," your pout earns a frown from him. "Couldn't get your dick wet when I was going through exams? Oh, poor widdle baby," he leans away from your fingers as they invade his face to pinch to what little adolescent fat still stuck to his cheeks.

"Oh, suck a dick, (Y/N)." Your smirk as you bring your lips to the rim of his cup. "Down, boy. We're in public, don't start begging just yet."

Unamused — or attempting to look unamused — Leon simply follows your focused gaze and tilts his head.

"I'll ask then. What's up with the staring problem? You attracted to doors now or what?"

The drink goes down with an awfully wheaty aftertaste and you smack your lips together in bemusement. "Fuck - what beer is this?" "Don't be an ass, they're doing a beer run, alright? I grabbed what I could. Are you gonna answer my question or not?" You swallow with a grimace. "D'you know that kid in Mr Pinto's class? The one with glasses and that god-awful voice? That know-it-all?" Leon nods. "Yeah, kinda looks like the typical nerdy douchebag, right?"

You lean in and Leon lets you. The both of you pretend not to feel the way his breath shudders as your wet lips brush the side of his cheeks.

"I wanna kill that rude little freak. Cut him open and smear his brains all over the fuckin' sidewalk." Leon's eyes widen. As you peer at him through your lashes, his grey-metal eyes all but melt to reveal that bloodthirsty animal stalking between reason and lace-thin morality. He gulps thickly, casting a side-glance briefly to the entrance before he darts them back to you.

"Why?" He strains out after clearing his throat.

Oh, this is why you adored Leon Scott Kennedy.

It was the way he tried so hard to deny how twisted he actually was. That abashed flutter of his lashes, the skim of teeth over his rabbit-tongue-colored lips; everything contrasting to how violently he used his strength to thrust a knife into someone's rib; how easily he swiped and cleaned a hunting blade using his gloves.

The low, guttural, grunts he makes as he thrusts into you during that high. How he's so careful with his strength outside of the bedroom but during the heat of it? He's so shameless that he leaves hand-shaped bruises all over your hips and arms and even leaves indents of his teeth into your flesh. If he was really impatient, he'd fuck you all while wearing the Ghostface mask, holding that still-bloody knife to your throat as he fucked you so hard you walked funny for a day or two.

Despite how much he enjoys it though, he still asks ' why? '

Why him? Did he do something bad to you? Why not him?

Why? Why? Why?

It didn't exactly matter why. Leon never says no to you.

"He was a bitch to Ashley."

Someone bumps into him, and he braces his hand on the base rail of the stairs. Drunken laughter muffles the minute silence as he peers down at you. His broad shoulders look bigger this time. You faintly recalled Ashley slyly mentioning how he seems to work out more often now ("always jogging past near your accommodations, you must've seen him once in a while. Has he ever come over for a quick post-workout boost?" "Gross, Ashley...A few times, yeah -").

"That won't do." He said with furrowed brows. "No, it won't." Circling your arms around his waist, you pull him in with a Cheshire smile.

"Ashley's like family to me. Besides, her mom's been worried about all these — " you giggle, trying to push down the urge to by chewing on your lower lip but failing. "What?" he asks, the tip of his nose on yours as he savours the sound. "C'mon, what'd she say, babe?"

"She's worried about these Ghostface killings," you playfully hiss out. He isn't sure if it's the party, the drinks, the bloodlust, or just you but he starts laughing along with you.

"So we gotta make sure he isn't dangerous for her sake, hm?" He noses under your jaw and the way you turn your face away makes his mouth water. That neck is far too untainted for his own liking; how long has it been since you've fucked? Since he's driven a knife into someone's skull?

Ever since that awkward break-up in your car, after that honest-to-god perfect night of killing that annoying and creepy line cook and fucking under the stars in the woods. That was the last time the two of you fucked and that was months ago. It caught him off-guard. That haze of pleasure being fanned away by the typhoon that was your sudden request to just break up.

The handjob on the wooden floors of your dorm followed by a blowjob was more recent but Leon just wanted to sink into that tight hole again and again for hours for him to be fully satisfied. The only reason he even stopped was because your alarm rang for an early class, one that you apparently couldn't afford to skip. All lies. He knows the alarm was just the weekday alarm that always went off at 9 am — he knows it's because of the beat of silence that followed after you came around his fingers.

The gentle panting from both of you, the sweet kisses he was leaving on your thighs and then your face.

You only pulled away when it got too real.

It just makes him more determined to show you how deep his devotion for you was. Whatever the reason behind your fear of commitment was, there isn't a line Leon wouldn't cross to show you how willing he is to be yours.

"Exactly," you whisper. How he hears it despite the music and people should surprise him but it doesn't. His body is hyperaware of your very presence. The minute changes in your expressions, the octave changes or lilts in your voice, the wordless way you communicate with him from across the room; Leon just knows you.

"A little birdie told me that he actually has a crush on you, Mr Kennedy." Leon doesn't pause in his actions. His tongue laps at the rising pace of your pulse, teeth brushing over skin and you try very hard to continue your speech despite the hand that cups your crotch.

"Somethin' 'bout you helping him pick up his books when the fucker tripped over his own fuckin' feet." You gasped as he started mottling your skin, capillaries just imploding under his ministrations. "Fuck, Leon." The cup is crinkling under your tightening hold and Leon simply cages you in between his toned arms. It's hard to focus on anything past them as you eye the prominent veins that disappear under the sleeves of his black shirt.

"Leon, calm the fuck down." He bites your neck in retaliation and you're glad some popular song plays over the speakers because the cheers that follow mask your moan.

What a ridiculous statement. Here you are, in his hands; perfect and handsome and sexy and yet — not his. It’s all a bit fucked up for him. Growing up alone, life offered no reprieve for little Leon Kennedy. His parents dying while he was young, then going to an orphanage — it all cemented into him that he was fine being independent. A partner sounded nice but he didn’t give it much thought.

Until you came.

Stubborn, silver-tongued, rich, handsome, so fucking handsome.

Not at all his type.

Waitlist, he hated that nickname. So he crashed a little late and unprepared for his first class. Sue him. Not his fault the school plucked out his name late too. Among the giggles of the classroom, yours stood out. It made sense since you were closest to him. Ashley was smacking your arm, sharing glances his way and you turned and mouthed a ‘sorry’ that Leon knew you didn’t even mean.

But then he kept seeing you around. Bumping into him during parties, always sitting near him in classes, accidentally hitting him in the face with a ball while you were chilling on the grass.

Fate was too perfect for him.

Leon was snarky and stubborn and he had nothing to give you that you already didn’t have.

But then, the night he saw you covered in blood. Everything seemed to shift. Because suddenly you weren’t this unreachable, little asshat with a wicked tongue and Leon was no longer a mutt with nothing to offer.

Suddenly, he saw that you were just as twisted and hungry as he was. A lone wolf with its teeth stained and its ribs showing under all that extravagant fur and Leon couldn’t resist himself chasing you after that.

The man who was bleeding out next to you had been desperate to try to sleep with you. The bruising around your neck and the dishevelled state of your clothes pieced the puzzle together. Leon used that to justify killing him.

For you. Just for you.

He was finally using the sharp teeth he had. Those blunt claws he’d been desperately trying to file down dug themselves into the dirt and he ran with you all the way down to Hell. Kicking the earth behind him, his breath visible as his teeth bare into a wolfish grin and you were right there.

Two lone wolves finding each other in a world full of rabbits and squirrels and deers.

Because that's what the both of you were. Not spiders with silk-weaved webs or snakes with venomous fangs. You were a wolf stalking its prey with your tongue lolled out and eyes so wide they shine like the moon.

Unapologetic killer.

If only you’d get the fact that you’re not a solitary animal into your thick skull.

Leon grunts when you pinch his sides, forcing himself to pull away with a disgruntled glare that you return.

“Did you hear what I said about the plan?” He tilts his head. “Was I supposed to?”

You click your teeth, placing your hands firmly on his chest to push him away. Leon resists but he lets you go after a split second.

“Christ, Waitlist.”

Leon reaches his hand out but you take a turn into the living area and suddenly he’s bumping into bodies. They’re bouncing and shaking and he feels like a sailor in rough waters.

“(Y/N)!” his voice doesn’t reach past his own nose. The music is so loud he doubts you’re even deliberately ignoring him. “God fucking dammit!” Leon ignores the hand that clumsily tried to seduce him and the glossy lips that follow it, just shouldering through the sea of people.

The kitchen hails no signs of you. He’s glad to see the beer run was successful enough and grabs a bottle of your favourite to soothe whatever it is he did.

“Leon! You’re here!” Ashley pops up from across the island and Leon smiles at her way. “Hey, Ashley. What’s up?” she eyes him skeptically and places her hands on the island. She quickly regrets this because of how suspiciously sticky it is but doesn’t miss a beat as she asks him; “I was gonna ask if you’ve seen (Y/N) but I guess those beers are for him.”

Ashley wraps her hand around a can and uses the condensation to somehow alleviate the stickiness. She would use the sink but with the state of a poor boy vomitting inside it and the amount of couples fucking in the bathrooms, this was the best she could do.

“Actually,” Leon sighs, “I was gonna ask if you’ve seen him.”

Her shock is evident but to Leon’s surprise, it turns into exasperation.

“Do I have to spell it out for you, Kennedy?” Ashley puts her hands on her hips and then points a finger at his way.

“He likes you. (Y/N) (L/N). He likes you, Leon Kennedy. So,” she comes around to him and despite the height difference, Leon feels slightly intimidated by her frown.

“Just fuck his brains out and tell him you’re not gonna let him go! That’s the only way you’re getting through to him, okay? God, I swear the both of you are so dimwitted!”

Ashley walks away and Leon stands there for a second to process what he’d just been told. The beginnings of a smile threaten to crawl onto his face so Leon purses his lips and just walks on towards the hallways to see if you’ve snuck into any of the rooms there.

He instead finds another person. Quite literally, they were shoved straight into his chest (thank god the beer was in a bottle). It takes a minute for Leon to notice him, really notice him, but after their half-assed apologies are shares Leon sees who it is.

From over his shoulder, he spots your half-hidden face just as you slink out of view.

“Hey, you’re...Michael, right?” the brunette perks up considerably and nods. “You’re in Mr Pinto’s class?”

Michael jumps into the conversation. “I am!” he exclaims though considering the state of the party, it is not out of place. Leon smiles charmingly and leans on the wall, offering Michael one of the bottles he’s holding.

His hands practically tremble to take it.

“You’re pretty smart, huh?” Michael scoffs at his words, his cheeks flushed despite not one sip taken. “I guess you can say that, I mean, 4.0 GPA but yeah. I guess I am pretty smart.”

This was going to be a long night, Leon thinks as he takes a swig.

Dancing with Michael proved to be easier than talking to him. He’s much more pleasant when you can’t hear him bragging about being the smartest guy in the room or how his sister is as dumb as bricks (”It’s no wonder she resorted to bulimia as a last resort to get hitched” “Oh, wow.”).

Leon thought rich kids were already unbearable but the smart rich kids were worse. The only thing that kept him sane was the fact that he’d see glimpses of you. A sliver of (H/C) coloured through the flashes of light. At times, he swears he even hears your laughter through the crowd and music.

Michael grabs at his arms and pretends to be coy as he squeezes and asks how much Leon works out. “I see you runnin’ sometimes!” And Leon suppresses the urge to cringe at how close his face is.

Did this make him an asshole? All this pretending to be nice, if God was real, was he shaking his head at Leon?

‘ If God was real he’d open the gates of hell to swallow you up the second you were born, ‘ he thought derisively.

But then, the Devil answers his question in the form of you. He sees you dancing, hands up in the air with your teeth bared in a giant grin. Leon's entranced; your arms slither down to your neck and Leon's not sure how he sees it with the flashing lights but he can see the hickeys he left on you. Michael is speaking, his ears relay to him. But he can’t pull his eyes from you. Leon doesn’t understand how you do it.

When you’re in the room it’s as if you’re the sun; the very center of his universe and he wants to implode into you. Be devoured and destroyed within your maw. A hand on his face and Leon is now staring at Michael. God, he’s staring at Michael.

Before he can speak, Leon asks; “Do you wanna go somewhere more quiet?”

They’re in the back of the house now. Music is more muffled despite the way the walls reverberate. The wood panelling must be screaming from the LED strip lights pasted on it. All the lamps had a red cloth over them, the room would look terrifying if it weren’t for the clouds of smoke and slurred giggling from the bodies on the bean bags.

Michael’s palms get clammy and Leon pretends he doesn’t feel it. Deeper in the room, at the back, where the cove of a past reading nook was built. The heavy velvet curtains stink of weed and cigarettes. He doubts the stains at the end are anything but alcohol or vomit. Aptly named make-out nook, the windows are covered by old sports magazines so no one from the outside can gawk.

Leon pressed Michael to the window panes and he gasps, hands coming to rest on Leon’s waist. He does that annoying squeezing thing that makes Leon’s skin crawl. His lips are on him and Leon narrows his eyes, staring at the smiling bodybuilder with his bulging muscles and tanned skin. Superman underwear and all. Leon wonders what he’d think of the sight before him; if any of these frozen-in-time athletes coo and gasp at the scandalous activities this nook has seen.

The curtains rustle as Michael chews on Leon’s lower lip. He’s biting down harder than he should — Leon jerks back, hissing softly.

“Fuck, I’m sorry — Are you okay?” Michael pauses as the curtains part and your giggles flood through, tendrils of smoke slipping through your teeth. An act. You’re closing in for the kill, and Michael has nowhere to run.

Still, he looks oh-so-smug as he tightens his grip on Leon.

“Leon?” you gasped while Michael sneered at you as he took a handful of Leon’s crotch. Both pretend not to feel how soft he is. He squeezed and purred. Leon’s eyes remained on you, brows raised in a challenge. “He’s busy with me, (L/N). So move along,” Leon slid his toned arms around his waist. The sight was like a match being struck, and your eyes burned with fury.

‘ Now? ‘ his eyes ask. You nod, reaching for the pocket knife you tucked away in your (Leon’s) leather jacket.

‘ Now. ‘

Leon wanted to kiss you so badly that he felt his fingers shake as he reached for his own hidden knife.

“Dude, not cool. You can’t make out with me like 10 minutes ago then just make out with someone else!” You exclaim, clambering into the nook and letting the curtains naturally slip close. “Leon — c’mon,” you beg so sweetly when you’re pretending. Michael sighs, getting his filthy hands off Leon, and faces you.

One finger jabs at your chest and you tilt your head at it.

“Fuck off, alright? Not everyone is dying to fuck your used hole —“

He inhales sharply, lashes fluttering as metal sheathes itself into his flesh. Leon pulls out his knife and then plunges it inside his back.

Again and again and again and again and again.

Michael braces his arms on your shoulders, and your breath shudders. He looks up at you in panic. He doesn't pay attention to the knife you’re holding too, he inhales and the way his mouth opens tells you he’ll try to scream.

The blade sinks through his neck, and when he tries to swallow the blood that floods his airway you can feel his muscles and Adam’s apple squish and move it. So you twist and dig in deeper. Leon’s blade pulls out again, blood is quickly spreading beneath Michael’s legs but the room is already cast in red — as if anyone would see.

“You enjoyed the little shit, Kennedy?” Michael claws at your jacket as you tilt the knife up, slicing through more of him until he starts spasming. His choking and gasping makes you groan in relief, breathing in his death with a smile.

"He was". You don't dare pull out the knife. Not now. A little puddle of blood is fine but more than people will really notice. The thrill of it all is too much for Leon; the crowd of people being hidden only by curtains, a warm body sputtering and choking on you as you held the knife; your eyes staring up at him with nothing but adoration in them.

Try to deny him as much as you want, (Y/N). You can't hide from Leon's hunger.

Ashley's voice echoes through his head.

"Kept groping you like some sort of pervert, what a fucking loser. Heard he got caught stalking the swim team captain. Pathetic, right? Think we can drag this pile of shit to the pool?"

Why are you talking about this waste of space?

Leon grabs him and with no more than a grunt, tosses Michael's body to the window pane where he thuds and slides down onto the floor. Splatters of blood spray onto the magazine covers, forever staining them just like the vomit stains on the curtains, and Leon pushes you against the window.

You replace the knife you held with Leon's jaw, smiling into the kiss as he sticks his tongue into your mouth. Fuck, he tastes good. Like your favorite beer. He's relentless as his hands grab the mounds of your ass.

From the outside, people snicker at the thumps they can hear.

"Fuuuck, Leon — Mfph, you're so fuckin' hasty," you groan. "Sorry for rushing when — fuck — when there's a dead body next to you."

You laugh and when Leon dives in again to suck the soul of your body he tastes the heavy smoke of marijuana lingering in your mouth. Michael is grunting, attempting to pull out the knife in his neck and you're especially cruel as you dig the heel of your shoes into his crotch. When he groans spurts of blood come out of him like a deflated waterbed.

"You're acting like this is something new," you retort. Leon just focuses on your neck again. Sucking over his marks and the slight pain that follows causes you to moan, gripping onto a fistful of his hair as your legs part.

What did Ashley say exactly? Fuck your brains out and tell you he's never letting you go?

He kneels abruptly, you're still catching your breath when he licks up your stomach, his bloodied knife now in his hand. You help him by lifting up your top, watching him lap at your happy trail with a dark blush across your face.

"Gonna suck my dick? You miss it that much?" Leon does not reply. Instead, he unbuttons your pants and you're chewing on your lip in excitement, gulping thickly as he pulls it down under the swell of your ass.

There's a wet patch on your underwear and Leon moans, pulling your pants down even further until it pools at your ankles. His knife is cold on your outer thigh, you hiss softly as the edges press and nick you but his tongue lapping at your dick through the cloth derails any complaints.

"Shiiit, Leon — " he slips the knife under your underwear, the serrated edges licking at your hips before a riiiiiiip! is heard. Ashley would be pissed knowing one of the designer underwear she gave you as a gift was purposefully torn apart but perhaps she'll be forgiving knowing it was to fulfill horny, filthy, purposes.

He must be really fucking excited. Leon's tongue is making a wet spot appear on your underwear and as if flimsily slips away from your hips, you swear you can feel the growl he releases as he sucks your exposed dick.

It twitches on his tongue, flushed from his attention as his tongue laps underneath it and his lips wrap around it.

"You miss me, baby?" You let out a sound of confusion at the question. "Yeah, you fuckin' do. You're so fucking hard."

Was he...was he talking to your cock?

"Bet you're dripping for me too, hm?" "Leon, what the fuck are you — "

The knife is now between your thighs, Michael's blood smearing itself there as he presses a kiss to your cock.

"If you're gonna cut me, wipe that pig's blood off." Your sneer is the last thing Michael sees as his eyes finally cloud over. In all honesty, you'd forgotten about him until now. The thought of his blood on you just disgusted you.

Leon wipes off his blood in his signature move; simply using your ripped undergarments in replacement of his gloves. Despite your annoyance, you won't deny how hot it was seeing him do it.

"Want me to cut you?" he hitches the blade to your inner thighs, the still-warm blade makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand. "Can I?"

"...Not there. Somewhere else."

Leon stands, the tip of the blade on your stomach. He towers over you, his broad shoulders making your cunt ache for more. "Here?" You shake your head so he flicks his gaze to inspect your torso.

Taking the edge of your shirt from your hands, he instead slips it between your teeth and you narrow your eyes at him. With your hands free, you lean back onto the windows, chest rising and falling in anticipation as Leon traces the knife all the way up to your chest.

He pauses at your collarbone but you shake your head once again and so he lowers it to your pec. You shake your head but Leon is gazing at it intently. He strokes tenderly over the surgery scar then pulls the skin of your chest taut and before you can protest he digs the tip of the blade in.

You bite down on your shirt, hissing as he drags down the tip. Crimson seeps through, beading up like delicate pearls before it gushes out in small streams. Leon's knee digs up your cunt and the spark of pleasure makes you lurch forward to grip Leon's shoulders. He pushes you back, the thump once again earning giggles from the group on the outside.

"You know I love you, (Y/N). I'm sick and tired of pretending you don't love me back."

Bewildered, you stare at him with furrowed brows.

He twists the blade and you inhale sharply as he slices it, lifting the knife at the end which cuts you shallowly at the end of his...symbol?

What the fuck was he cutting into you?

"Since you're too fucking stubborn to accept it, I'll make sure you know it. I don't know what rich boarding school trauma you have or if mommy and daddy never showed you how love is supposed to work — you're fucking mine."

He drags the blade down, three quicks slices follow and your eyes well with tears while your hips gyrate down on the delicious friction he has provided.

"You think I won't understand you? Think I'll hurt you? I'm the only one in this fucked up world that'll love you unconditionally, Trustfund. I love you, (Y/N)."

The next letter — you belatedly realize — hurts more as he carves a jagged O.

"I love you. I love you, I fucking love you, I'll love you till the day we die, and even in Hell, I'll find you and I'll love you."

N hurts less, Leon's gotten the hang of the angles and how quick and deep he should do it.

"I'll burn the whole fucking world down if it meant I could stay by your side."

Your chest is bleeding, rivers of red escaping and it stings in the cool air so Leon presses himself closer. The warm of his body on yours numb out the pain of the pressure he had applied. Blood is staining your torso, dripping and mixing with your slick and his jeans and you're so turned on you can't find the words.

Leon just kisses your cheek, licking up the tears that escaped and you moan as he kisses you.

Leon thinks his ears are fucking with him. He pulls back, not far enough to let your lips leave his but far enough that he can look at you. There's a dopey grin on your face, and he can feel the shape of your lips as you speak.

"Luh — Love you too, Leon...Love you s'fuckin' much."

It's a miracle no one has pulled the curtains back.

Maybe the noises were keeping them away. Everyone's a voyeur until the chance is actually presented in front of them, right? Hearing the both of you is enough. Seeing is too embarrassing.

You're completely wrong, by the way. Ashley had chased everyone out, locked the goddamn door of this red room with a giggle. Not knowing the true horrors that were hidden.

It was for the best.

Leon has you lifted in his arm, lapping up at the blood on your sternum as his cock bullies in and out of your cunt. The gymnast staring at him from over your shoulder makes him grin and he pulls you firmly down onto his cock, groaning as you squeal.

"Fuh — Fuck! Fuck! Leon!"

You're gripping onto whatever leverage you can find purchase off without ripping off the pictures. But he's balls deep and you keen, hands finding itself tangling with the curtain rod. Leon is so rough, so intent on destroying your cunt as his hot breath protects his name from the air, every jostle and thrust makes you clench around his cock like a vice.

"Fuck, this boypussy's made just for me, huh? Sucks me in every time I pull out, greedy little cunt." His words are making your vision blur with tears, he latches onto your nipple and your arm jerks.

The curtain rod falls with a crash and Leon immediately pulls you in. He shield your naked body with his own, completely ignoring the dead body inches away. He expects horrified screams. The both of you are greeted with silence instead.

The room is empty.

More space to fuck you in, he thinks as he smirks.

Limply, you lay out like a starfish on the couch. Cunt gaping and slick with your juices and blood and his spit. His dick is streaked with blood and your cum coating it, he spits a glob off spit onto your dick and you whine, reaching for a throw pillow to hold onto as he uses his thumb to jerk it.

"Fuck, you look so fucking handsome right now."

"How...how have you not cummed yet...?" You pant out, hips lifting and twisting in an attempt to escape Leon's thumb. He presses your hips down with his other hand and you groan, eyes rolling back.

"Needa' make up for lost time," he says as he licks his lips. "Missed this hole so badly. Shit, look at the way he's winking at me."

"Stop talkin' to my cunt!" He grunts as you kick his shoulder, turning to bite into your calf with a gleeful chuckle.

"Fuck, I wanna make a movie with you." Your pretty little prince-y parts are more forthcoming than you are. Your cock jumps and he sees the way you squeeze down.

"Say less, baby." You try to kick him again but he leans back faster than you. He meanders towards his discarded pants, pulling out his phone. You try to catch your breath, one arm tossed over your eyes as your legs go lax, thighs twitching as you try to calm your heart rate.

The light from his phone feels warm, but maybe that's just you being sensitive. He makes sure it takes in all the details of his carved name, then pans down to your sopping hole and a throaty moan escapes you as his fingers slip inside with ease.

"Jesus, I can feel your heartbeat." The casual way he says it makes you whine, he pumps his three fingers in and out before curling it up, and your back arches. The cutest "ah!" coming from you.

He hopes the phone picks it up. He admires the way you as he lines up his cock to your cunt. Slides it through your lips, hissing in pleasure as he bumps his cock with yours, and you squirm, wrapping your legs around his waist. "Leon, cum in me. Please, fucking Christ, just cum in me already."

His cock is so thick. The stretch of it never fails to make your mouth open in a silent scream, choked-out moans of his name or God escaping. When his balls smack against you, you see white behind your eyelids, and Leon chuckles as he feels your walls spasm around him.

He pulls back. The streaks of liquid on his cock just make him all the more eager. Leon lets the camera take in your body as it takes him. Plowing into you with abandon, bracing himself on his fist as his hips rattle yours.

"Fuck, yes. Tighten up around me, that's it, baby. Yeah, that's it."

He angles the phone away, wanting to see your face without it blocking him. It falls onto the floor and Leon steals your breath away as he kisses yo. His mouth tastes like blood and beer and you.

His brows pinched as his back rippled with pleasure. "I'm close," he warns and you whimper, locking your ankles behind him just as you wrap your arms behind him.

"C'mon, baby. Fill me up, yeah —Nghah! Yeah! There, right there! Fill me up, Leon, please — Ah!"

Pressing his forehead with yours, he claims your lips once again and his thrusts get sloppy, uncoordinated. He comes with a moan of your name, sheathed in as deep as he could get and the warmth that fills you makes your cunt clench around him tightly, milking him as your orgasm washes over you for one last time that night.

"Fuck, (Y/N)..." Leon presses gentle kisses to your cheek, stroking your neck as he pants.

"I...I promised Ashley I was gonna jog with her tomorrow," you mumble out, whining as Leon's hips stutter into you. He chuckles, trailing kisses down your neck.

"I'll take responsibility." "You better."

"Poor Michael," Ashley's brows slope as she watches the TV replay the news.

You're honestly impressed Leon managed to sneak out with the goddamn body, he wrapped it up in the curtain if you recalled, and placed it on his backseat. Leon didn't wanna leave you in the car but you were passed out, sleeping peacefully. So he spent a good hour or two just tossing the guy's body in the school's pool.

When you came to, you were at home with him wiping you down and your chest wrapped up.

It's been a week since the two of you were official, Michael's case seemed more and more hopeless — Leon had done a good job erasing traces of evidence. Like a proper killer.

His fingers squeeze your calves, and you groan softly, curling your toes as he massages it. Ashley turns back to peek at the both of you. You with your legs splayed over Leon's lap and him casually working out the kinks in them, all while you were wrapped with a blanket around your shoulders.

"You two aren't the slightest bit scared? He was at the party y'know. Michael and that Ghostface dude," she shudders and looks ahead at the screen. "Fuck, what if I made out with him!?"

Leon snorts, shaking his head. "I'm sure you didn't, Ash." You nod in agreement, adjusting the pillows under you, ignoring the sting of the wound under the bandages.

"Bet if you did, you'd know. He'd be so fucked up you'd probably taste blood in his mouth or somethin' freaky like that." Leon glances your way, and you give him a grin.

Ashley pouts, sinking back. You reach a hand out to play with her golden locks. It makes her shoulders droop and she leans back to you.

"You didn't even know the guy, Ashley. Ya' know what they say about killers, right? They only kill the people they know, you know any killers?"

She thinks about it.

"...You scream at the sight of a cockroach and Leon can barely parallel park without getting teary-eyed..."

"Hey," Leon's ears turn red. "That was one time and everyone was staring, okay?"

Ashley laughs, shaking her head as she switches the channels. Yeah, you were right! She didn't know any killers. She was safe hiding out here in your apartment with Leon until the police wrapped up their investigations.

As long as she had the both of you, she'd be safe. Which she wasn't wrong about — Ashley meant too much to you to be hurt. Her mother didn't have to worry about the Ghostface killers attacking her, the two of them were right behind her. Braiding her hair, asking if she wants popcorn for their movie night.

#s3thwrit3sstuff #reader insert #male reader #gay reader #male reader insert #male!reader #ftm reader #transmale reader #leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy x y/n #leon kennedy x male reader

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deconstructthesoup · 2 months

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What Fear Entities the Bad Kids would serve

Yeah, you know what, I'm doing this. *cracks knuckles*

Adaine: If her fear dream sequence in Sophomore Year is any indication, Adaine is very much a Lonely avatar. Her story has several reoccuring themes of feeling isolated and abandoned, and I could definitely see her retreating into the melancholy of the Forsaken after a particularly devastating loss. She'd probably fight it at first, though---I don't see Adaine becoming an avatar willingly.

Fabian: He was very hard to pin down, but I think he'd be pretty fitting as an avatar of The Vast. This is in no small part due to the fact that his father was a pirate, he himself has a lot of piratical imagery, and pirates are tied with the sea and the amass of wealth---two things that The Vast has wrapped up in it---and let's not forget the fact that Fabian is someone with vast opportunity ahead of him. Plus, he's got the energy necessary for a Vastard, so I think it fits.

Fig: The Stranger is the most obvious choice for her, seeing as she has a love of disguises and being something she's not, but I think that she could also just as easily slide into The Desolation. She's all about rebellion and chaos and "burn towns, get money," after all---makes sense that she'd be a little flamey.

Gorgug: Oh, Slaughter for sure. No question about it, especially now that we see him start to embrace his rage. It's all about the anger, baby.

Kristen: When we first meet her, I'd say that she would be on the cusp of becoming part of The Hunt---in the eyes of her community, someone who hunted the people that the church of Helio regarded as sinners, but in reality, someone who was desperately hunting for answers and a truth that would work for her---but right now? Absolutely The Dark. She's embrace the darkness and the unknown and the comforts of the Forever Blind, and there's no Entity that's more fitting than that for her.

Riz: The Eye. Every single person who is a fan of both Dimension 20 and The Magnus Archives has made this connection, and it's redundant for me to go into it at this point. Riz is one of the most Eye-coded characters in a piece of media ever.

#dimension 20 #fantasy high #the magnus archives #adaine abernant #adaine o'shaughnessey #fabian seacaster #fig faeth #gorgug thistlespring #kristen applebees #riz gukgak

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britcision · 5 months

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So I made it 4 years without being struck down by AO3 Author Curse! But here we are. I’ll spare y’all the details but let’s just say “fuck this year” and leave it there. We’ve had the requisite Third Bad Thing and I will burn the universe down if it goes for a fourth

What this means for y’all, of course, is that there’s been a long ass break between last chapter and this one! Aaaaand this one is being broken in half because it is Longer Than Tumblr Allows

(And they’ve lessened how many paragraph breaks you get cuz this one is only about 9.5k and it made me add it in thirds, woe is me)

So, as usual, links to the first chapter, last chapter, and the link to the AO3 version is I think in BOTH, so if you can’t find it from there I can’t help you 😁

First Chapter:

Last Chapter:

And just a little recap where last we left off:

Bruce has gone to the Watchtower to debrief the Justice League about Amity Park and the Anti Ecto Acts, and been told that Jason has left the land of the living! But like, on purpose

Jason and Danny have gone to visit Frostbite and learned that they are ghost-bonded, which you should take seriously like being ghost-married, and that Jason is gonna pop out Pitty in a couple more days/weeks and have to emotionally raise a ghost-baby

Tucker, Tim, and Conner are all playing video games and hiding out from the Amity Parker/Bat Chat for Tim and Tucker’s mutual stalking ways, which Sam blew wide open by sharing Timblr, as punishment for Tucker not telling her they were all alive

(Danny’s off the hook cuz Tucker was haunting his phone with soundtracks for half the day)

And Damian’s off being Sketchy And Mysterious

————————

Well You Did Get Down On One Knee (part 1)

The evening was beginning to draw in, the sun getting low over Gotham city. Between her patrol the night before, helping Signal out with a case, and then that brief group heart attack about Jason, it had already been a really long day.

Spoiler cracked her neck a couple times and sighed, then sunk into the shadow behind a gargoyle.

It was smaller than usual… and occupied. Robin glowered up at her, leaping up to sit on the gargoyle’s head instead. He looked for all the world like he wanted to hiss at her like a cranky cat, which diffused all of Spoiler’s tension (but would only make his worse if she mentioned it. Maybe tomorrow).

Sighing philosophically she settled back against the base of the gargoyle, tipping her head back to see him.

“Hey… what are you doing out so early? Usually you lot wait until sundown to swing from the shadows,” she pointed out (rather fairly, she thought). Totally ignoring that she was 1000% usually one of “you lot”.

Robin just scowled disdainfully down at her, then twisted his head away to glare at the city instead.

“As if I needed any more reason to be out than you do,” he sniffed archly.

Spoiler grinned, puffing herself up. She did have an answer for this one, and, being generous or not, winding Robin up was always a treat.

“Hey, I was actually requested today. Signal needed a second pair of eyes on the back door of a bust. Didn’t see you there,” she added innocently, a brow rising.

It was technically possible that Robin could have suited up and left the manor in between Bruce’s message and Tim’s response. Spoiler wouldn’t put money on it though.

He’d have had to be on his way down already, and while they could all change quickly, there were no rushed or sloppy patches to her experienced eye.

His hair was even neatly slicked back into the traditional Robin spikes, one every Robin but her and Duke had used during their time as the baby bird.

Nah, he’d not rushed out in a panic, even if he was still more tense than he should have been. Every line of the kid was tight with… Spoiler cocked her head thoughtfully.

Frustration?

Definitely not unusual, Damian didn’t have Dick’s temper but he’d spent pretty much all of his first few years in Gotham unbearably frustrated with them all. It had just been a while since she’d seen it so… visibly.

And for all Steph was a gleeful little shit and loved poking at trouble, she wasn’t cruel. There was no point in pushing Robin if he was already on edge.

So she shrugged nonchalantly and looked forward instead, reaching back over her head to pat him gently on the foot. He didn’t dodge, which only cemented her decision.

“‘Course, no rule against taking a daylight run if you’re in the mood. See anything interesting?” She asked innocently.

Kid wouldn’t admit it if he had been worrying.

Silence reigned for another long moment, and then Robin huffed and dropped down to the rooftop beside her, folding himself back into the sharper shadow the waning daylight provided.

“No.” Short and sweet, unlike the kid himself.

But he also hadn’t left, and Spoiler was gonna call that a win.

“Will you be out tonight too?” She asked instead of pushing, reminding herself yet again; he’d open up in his own time.

Hypothetically.

Robin made a soft, disgusted noise, glowering at the smog filled sky. Probably even in the right direction for the Watchtower.

“I intend to be. Someone must keep an eye on things,” he grumbled, and Spoiler made an effort not to take it personally.

B had been majorly distracted with all this Amity Park business, not even breathing down their necks about the usual nightly reports. The rogues hadn’t exactly noticed yet, but the goons had.

The big Bat himself not making an appearance for a couple of nights usually attracted some comment, and an up-til-now entirely Bat-free new year?

The guys she’d helped Signal grab today had been muttering about it right until they ran into her arms. Fists.

They’d mentioned not seeing Stabby Robin either though.

Which she might as well also mention.

“Weren’t you out last night too? I saw your gear missing when I dropped by at the end of the night,” she added when he tensed again, hands wedged in her utility belt. “Didn’t hear you on comms though.”

And that was more than just rude; it was bad protocol, and Robin, for all his other faults, respected the strictness of protocol. Not being chatty was one thing, but if you were out on the town you had to call in.

He stayed silent, not looking at her. Spoiler decided he could use just a little nudge. Totally not because she was getting impatient. And nosy.

“Y’know unless you went out tech free I can just ask Oracle,” she pointed out gently, giving his shoulder a gentle bump.

It got him to glower up at her anyway.

“I was not on patrol,” he grumbled, whites of his mask narrowed before returning his glare to the city at large, “like I am not today.”

When he didn’t elaborate, Spoiler flipped a mental coin. Figured why not; they were already doing well.

Kid must be on the verge of having to, dread the thought, ask for help.

“And what would you be doing out and about if not patrolling…” she began, then stopped when a piece clicked suddenly into place.

Robin, Damian, was about as social as a feral cat. And about as friendly with anyone who got close to those he considered his.

Right now, Danny Fenton and his friends had more than half the family utterly wound up. All except Bruce in a good way, Spoiler was the first to admit, but Robin wouldn’t see it like that.

The only trick was, how to word the question.

Spoiler liked blunt. It made her stand out from the bats, who all played way too much mental and emotional chicken to be healthy. She’d always been more of a bird that way.

“Wouldn’t have anything to do with Hood’s little disappearance today, would it?” She asked instead, grinning broadly when Robin twitched.

Hit the nail on the head.

From the scowl he shot her he knew it too, and looked away quickly enough that he knew there was no taking it back. He folded his arms across his chest and sulked and fuck he was just adorable.

She’d bet anything Dick used to pout exactly like that.

Still, she tempered the grin down to a slight smile. Dropped a hand on his shoulder, squeezing gently and letting go when he pulled away.

“Worried me too. Were you close enough to see anything?” Because yeah, if Robin was already at least on his way into uniform before the message arrived?

Spoiler would put easy, easy money on him having been already tailing Jason and Danny around. Last night too, probably. She and Cass had left early to take the night shift, leaving Tim and Damian with the Amity Parkers.

Damian had one hell of a dose of his father’s paranoia, and Steph considered it a solemn duty to teach him about personal boundaries to keep him from turning out just like the old bat.

Just a little friendly stalking from the rooftops didn’t really count though. Not between family.

Robin had tensed right up again too, but when she didn’t push the contact or needle at him he slowly relaxed back down. Scowled at her feet instead of his own.

“No,” he admitted bitterly, both at definitely having been busted and probably at having nothing to report, “Todd… Hood spoke to the magician. They argued, he went back inside Freeze’s place and did not reappear when his tracker went through the roof and into the sky.”

Spoiler blinked, mildly surprised.

“Hood was wearing a tracker? Didn’t think he was in the mood.”

“He wasn’t,” Robin corrected with a derisive sniff.

And… yeah, they were gonna have to do a little more work on that whole “boundaries” thing. Although the odds of Hood not noticing that he’d been tagged were lower than Robin probably thought. Keeping a tag on him that he didn’t want there?

Nah. She may not exactly trust Jason, but that was how she knew how good he was at finding and disabling rogue trackers. And sure, Damian was better than her at some things, but if Cass couldn’t sneak a tracker onto Red Hood no one could.

Kinda cute that Jason let the little guy think he’d successfully bugged him.

At least the constant mild stalking was just standard for the family.

Shaking her head, she gave him a gentle nudge with her elbow.

“That’s rough. Flying’s cheating,” she commiserated with a sly look to the sky.

She’d heard a super cross Oracle’s radar. Conner, almost certainly if Robin was still out alone.

Too bad he’d not thought to call his own Superboy, though taking flight himself wouldn’t have helped if dimensional travel followed.

Robin made another disgusted little tut, then pushed off the gargoyle and stormed away. Spoiler watched him go for a moment, then shrugged.

“Hey, go get some sleep if you’re coming back out tonight,” she called after him. Grinned when he flipped her off without turning.

If he’d been off stalking Jason and Danny two days in a row, he’d need some rest.

“And don’t forget your report,” she teased and actually laughed when he raised his other hand to flip her off with both before leaping off the edge of the roof, swinging back towards the bat cave.

Stephanie Brown had never been prouder in her life than the first day Damian had said “fuck” in front of his dad. Far be it from her to demand anyone transform into a social butterfly, but she personally was pretty damn sure that nothing was gonna help Damian out of his “raised by assassins” shell than learning some good old fashioned swearwords.

And a little teenaged rebellion. The proudest day was totally gonna be when he finally told his grandfather to fuck off (or any suitable equivalent; Steph wasn’t choosy).

Leaning back into the gargoyle’s shadow, Spoiler surveyed the city below. Technically, she’d been out as long as Damian had; if she wanted to be out tonight she’d need a quick nap too.

Or, more fun, she could nip back to the manor, kidnap Cass, and they could find and bully Tim and Tucker in person. Yeah, that was gonna be it.

Jason was feeling good, really. Actually a little surprised at how good, considering.

That crunchy little ecto-ice chip had been better than a gallon of coffee, filling him with energy like he’d actually gotten a full night’s sleep. (Not that he knew much about how that actually felt, at least not when not recovering from serious injury.)

He hadn’t actually felt this good since the night Danny slept over, which had been the night before last. Didn’t sound all that impressive, except that it had been the best he’d felt in half a decade.

Maybe the full decade. For all Robin made him magic, skipping sleep to fight crime had done a number on him in his teens. If he’d been as willing as Dickie and Tim to slack on his schoolwork, maybe…

Yeah, no, Tim was the poster child for Do Not Emulate This Sleep Schedule.

What mattered was that even after running the docks down with Black Bat for more than half the night and then getting up to get Danny, Jason felt fucking great.

Even after three separate courses of Bruce’s bullshit, both directly and through the medium of John fucking Constantine. Not so long ago, Bruce would never even dare call him, much less try and set up a bat cave ambush. That… was probably technically a good sign?

Didn’t feel like one at the moment, but Jason actually felt almost good enough to be charitable with the old bat. A little emotionally wrung out, sure, but he felt lighter for… having whatever that had been. Like the stress that had been compacting his chest had finally eased.

Jason was self aware enough to admit he’d probably had more than one breakdown owed to him. Maybe not a “take to the bed”, “trip to the sea” full Victorian lady meltdown, but he’d had a whole baby dropped on him. Except somehow worse.

He damn well deserved that freak out, and now that it was over and he’d been given what kinda felt like the ghost equivalent of speed… He felt like his brain was finally working again.

Which… meant he was fully processing that his fucking soul was vibrating in time with Danny’s. And every other ghost could just. Tell.

That was gonna make fight club… actually, Jason had no idea what the fuck it was gonna make fight club. By all accounts Danny being the Ghost King hadn’t made any of them less likely to throw down with him.

If anything, Danny had warned Jason that him being a “young” ghost would make the others more eager to fight. It was a kind of play, bonding and teaching the new baby their powers.

Sounded fucking terrifying by all accounts and Jason was just glad he had Danny to explain it to him, since apparently full ghosts just… knew it wasn’t serious. Even baby ghosts came into existence recognising the game.

Halfas didn’t.

Whiiiich meant that all the “playful” threats of dismemberment had sounded pretty fucking real to Danny, back when he’d been a baby ghost and had half the Zone flocking to “play” with him.

Pitty let out a rumbly little growl, like a sulking dog and Jason hid a snicker. Yeah, he’d also be kicking their asses that little bit harder for that given half a chance.

Actually, if they kept holding fight club, Pitty could take a chunk out of them itself.

That thought got him a contented little purr, which was weird enough that Jason was going to focus back in on Frostbite’s broader explanation. Which… he should have been doing anyway. At least this part wasn’t solely for his benefit though.

“In the sense that you have tied yourselves together, it may be somewhat like a marriage… however, it is a very different relationship. In a true love-union, your signatures would beat in time,” the yeti explained, gesturing once more to the screen.

Jason’s blob continued to pulse and blur a fraction of a beat behind Danny’s. Definitely not quite in time.

This was a relief. Yup. And Jason’s cheeks definitely weren’t any warmer than they’d been a minute ago, before he knew that, again, his fucking soul was echoing Danny’s.

Frostbite gave his tablet a couple more taps, and a pulsing blue line linked the images on the screen.

“In your case, young knight, your allegiance is marked in both your resonance and in your aura, which now carries a link to your King. In this way, even if the Great One is not beside you, all ghosts will know that you are the chosen protector of their King. His status is what defines your role as a knight, instead of a more casual bond.”

“No one’s king yet,” Danny protested, folding his arms and leaning into Jason’s side. Letting a little more of his weight rest on him.

Jason leaned in too, frowning from the screen to Frostbite.

“And all the other ghosts can just… see this?” He asked, not really sure what he was hoping to be told.

Frostbite switched from giving Danny a fond smile back to Jason, nodding brightly.

“Oh yes. Ectoplasm is very easily influenced by emotion, and bonds can form quite quickly. I presume you took an oath?” He asked, eyes sparkling in a way that made Jason pretty damn sure he’d met Clockwork.

Which, now that he thought about it…

Jason huffed out another deep breath, running a hand through his hair. As much as John Fucking Constantine specifically could ride a cactus straight to Hell… the guy mighta had the faintest inkling of a point about one thing.

“Yeah… about that.” He pulled a face, gaze tracking away from the others and down to the floor.

Would they think he was a dumbass too? Danny had been there when Clockwork made the offer and he’d been pretty against it, but Jason had thought he understood why.

It hadn’t sounded anything like Constantine’s claims of what he’d signed up for.

In the end, it was easier to address the question to Frostbite’s large hairy toes.

“I, uh… I made an oath to Clockwork, but do I have… a contract or something? The asshole magician I mentioned earlier was going on and on about eternal fucking servitude bullshit but it’d be nice to have something to shove in his face,” he added quickly, arm slipping back and almost around Danny (but with his hand still firmly on the table).

He didn’t need to wait to feel the guilt in Danny’s aura to head it off.

Jason wasn’t having second thoughts. He wasn’t sorry for what he’d signed up for, and when it came right down to it…

He didn’t think people could lie through their auras. Even when he was trying to project something like “I’m fine” and he wasn’t, he was pretty sure Danny could tell.

He could sure as hell tell when Danny was bluffing through his, which had happened maybe once total.

He trusted Danny. He trusted Frostbite. He even mostly trusted Clockwork, because for all the guy had been a little sketchy, Jason had felt his sincerity. How deeply he cared for Danny.

Keeping Danny safe forever didn’t sound like eternal servitude. Eternal babysitting, maybe, if Danny was being a pain in the ass, but he’d never top Damian at his most bratty.

Jason woulda been trying to protect Danny anyway. As far as he knew, knighthood just made that easier.

Which was another reason he’d like a look at his contract. You didn’t make it onto the streets as Robin without learning to read for loopholes, hidden clauses, and fine print. He may have already signed on the dotted line, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t find some wiggle room.

Danny, about to say something either apologetic or self deprecating, huffed out a breath as Jason’s arm slipped around him. Winded up giving him a half smile instead.

“Yeah… that’s a good point. I still need to find out if I can fire your ass.”

“Still didn’t hire me,” Jason pointed out archly, bumping his arm to knock Danny forwards a little.

The other halfa huffed a laugh this time and bumped him back.

“Yeah, and I gotta work out how to hire you so I can then immediately fire you,” he shot back.

Frostbite cut them both off with a raised hand, though he still looked fondly amused. Like they were cute little kids or something stupid.

“You will have to discuss this with Clockwork directly, young knight, but I do not believe a knighthood typically comes with a contract. It is a duty one is granted, and one that may be rescinded if you fail, but it is not a deal,” he explained patiently.

Jason’s brows furrowed a little, but at least he could feel Danny’s confusion-puzzled-not sure beside him too. He wasn’t the only one who wasn’t quite sure what that meant.

Maybe he shoulda looked a little more into magic shit while he was with the League of Assassins. That would have been the time, especially if the Lazarus Pits were the just grunged ectoplasm.

“It kinda sounded like a deal when he offered it,” he said almost as a question, glancing back at Danny for confirmation.

Danny nodded. So it wasn’t just Jason.

“He gave me a cool magic gun in exchange for keeping Danny hale and hearty. Protecting him in the living and Infinite realms,” Jason added in case the wording counted, more sure as he remembered some of the reasons.

Fuck, had that only been a week ago? It felt like it’d been a whole year.

Frostbite gave them a neutral shrug, inclining his head.

“As I said, you will need to ask Clockwork directly. All I can tell you is that it is not innate to the position; a knighthood is not usually something bought and sold,” he explained patiently.

Danny hummed an agreement, cheek resting on Jason’s shoulder again.

“It’s normally all ghost-to-ghost too, so is there a way we can check if the halfa thing has changed it?” He asked Frostbite, leaning against the table too and totally not actually putting his arm around Jason back.

Jason felt a little more tension leech back out of him. Which raised another good point, actually.

“And not related or anything, but if you gave me a buncha those ice crystals could I just chew them to get the ecto for…” he hesitated, waving his free hand at his general chest area again.

Honestly, given half a chance he’d love to get a bowl full and try and pop the pit out in one go… it’d probably be easier to train from outside his body where it wouldn’t immediately know he was so full of shit… his own aura notwithstanding.

Yeah, he was still a little worried about being anyone’s emotional guide, but if he could just get the damn thing out in the world… maybe it could have other guides too.

“To answer the simpler question first, young knight, unfortunately the energized ectoplasm is only a short term boost and will not affect either of your cores. I will provide you with a small supply to assist your emotional control whilst you stabilize, if you wish?” Frostbite offered gently, a slight smile on his face.

Jason hesitated, considering things for a moment, then nodded. Sure, it wasn’t a solid “yes here is the answer to all your problems Jason just smack it in”, but it was a concrete solution to what had actually been worrying him.

Having another one of those weird “episodes”. He’d still be waiting to get Pitty all the way out, but at least he had a backup plan until then. He could pop an ecto-crystal each morning, get some energy, and worry less about night patrols.

Shit, he’d have more energy than he’d had since he died. The others were gonna be jealous as hell, but it wasn’t like they could steal and take his ghost meds. Probably.

Jason… wasn’t quite ready to think about the panic attack itself. He felt fine now, way better, and it wasn’t like it was the first he’d had.

Just…

Just the first that he remembered. That his heart started racing, his head rushing, ears filled with rushing static and the world hadn’t just melted into a green haze of blood and violence.

His early training with the League of Assassins had involved a lot of losing himself to the Pit. He’d wake up days later, body aching with exertions he couldn’t remember, and be told how many he’d killed.

Good news: no fear of that either, apparently. Pitty wasn’t pulling for control anymore, so the green haze was all Jason’s own.

Joy.

He had a nasty feeling that Danny would notice him spiralling from anywhere in Gotham. And probably ditch class to come check on him.

Like Hell. Jason’d fucking call Harley first, put himself through some breathing exercises or whatever, he did not need an emotional support Ghost King.

He gave Frostbite a quick nod, a small smile forming almost without thinking about it. The yeti was just… so caring and helpful. Not exactly something Jason had a wealth of experience with. He’d probably be a great example for Pitty.

Frostbite returned the smile, making a quick note on his tablet.

“And of course, your ghostly parent or a mentor should also be able to assist you. Spending time with those who are important to you, especially a comforting figure will help both your control and your core formation,” the yeti added in a slightly pointed way, like he’d read Jason’s mind, and Jason had to stifle a laugh.

Frostbite might be an eight foot tall hairy yeti, but he’d get along with Alfred like a house on fire… he was even as stubborn about not using their names as Alfred was about nicknames.

And when Jason thought about someone comforting, the beacon of emotional maturity and constraint… it could only be Alfred. He was more grandparent than parent, but certainly the only mentor Jason still looked up to. And a paragon of control besides.

Alfred could help him with Pitty. Model a little actual emotional restraint and control for the both of them. The only question was if Jason could just be up front and ask him, possibly revealing the secret early, or if he’d have to come up with an excuse for them to hang out.

Stupid thought. Jason knew damn well he could just walk into the kitchen and Alfred would be more than happy to spend time together. He wouldn’t need a ruse; he wouldn’t even need an excuse.

The knowledge settled warm and soft and happy inside him, until his brain caught up with his ears and stopped him short.

Wait.

“Ghost parent?” He asked cautiously, looking from Frostbite to Danny again. Danny pulled a face but Frostbite beat him to the punch.

“Ah, yes. We did not discuss that last time either. Your ghost parent, young knight, is the second strongest bond a young ghost can have. They are the ghost who welcomes you into the Infinite Realms, who will guide your steps and protect you until your own haunt has formed.”

Brows furrowing, Jason twisted to frown more directly at Danny, not quite sure if he was looking for confirmation or asking a question of his own.

Cuz, y’know, other than the whole “protecting until his haunt formed” (and Jason certainly didn’t need protecting), that sounded a lot like what Danny had been doing. Which would totally make it weird if Jason was a knight to his own ghost-dad.

Clearly following the same lines, Danny raised both hands and shook his head, almost but not quite stepping out of reach.

“Oh no, it’s not me. You’ve had a ghost parent long before I came along,” he said emphatically, the sudden panic on his face making Jason feel better about his own response to surprise parenthood.

He magnanimously decided not to tease Danny about it, turning instead to give Frostbite a questioning look.

“Should I know who my ghost parent is? Who gets to decide?” He asked cautiously. He’d never met another ghost before Danny, but he had this awful sinking feeling that Ra’s al Ghul might have more to do with the realms than just the pits, and he was the closest proxy. Even Tallia would be better. Maybe even Bruce.

Reading his tension, Frostbite clapped a massive furry hand on Jason’s shoulder, smile and aura both full of comfort-reassurance-calm.

“Normally yes young knight, though yours is a special case. Usually when a young ghost first finds its way to the realms, one of the first ghosts they encounter will take them under their wing. It is an honour to care for a young ghost, and a halfa even more so,” he explained gently.

Beside Jason, Danny snorted loudly.

“Oh, yeah, they totally come running to play happy families. Super wholesome,” he grumbled, arms folded as he leaned back into Jason’s weight.

Honestly, Jason could kinda spot common threads between what Frostbite just said and what Danny had told him about Fight Club; the play fighting was supposed to be about sharing powers, right? Just, y’know, between people with shit verbal communication to actually check in that everyone was on the same page.

The yeti sighed fondly, his hand moving from Jason’s shoulder to rest proudly on Danny’s. Given the width of Danny’s shoulders respective to the hand, the last two fingers were back on Jason’s other shoulder.

“Again, Great One, your circumstances were also exceptional. You did not explore the Ghost Zone until after you had established yourself to many as a competent fighter and protector of your haunt, which along with certain… adventures led most to believe you were far older than you are,” Frostbite explained patiently, with just the faintest hint that they’d been through this before.

Danny rolled his eyes and shot Jason double finger guns.

“Yyyyup, which is why I don’t have to deal with any of this “ghost parent” business,” he agreed brightly, tipping Jason a smirk, “get good.”

Jason flipped him off, but there was something… not in his aura, Frostbite’s was still very carefully toned back all calm medical professional, but in the creasing of the yeti’s eyes. Now, ghost yetis were definitely a new species and Batman drilled them all on the dangers of extrapolating body language on new species, but Jason had done his time on alien planets.

Something in the change, something in the shift, a little quirk of the brow Jason had noted when the yeti was amused. There was something funny here, and it wasn’t Danny’s quip.

Putting his suspicions aside for now, Jason settled on the more pressing matter.

“So who is my ghost parent? When do I get to meet them?” He asked cautiously, still not entirely convinced he hadn’t accidentally imprinted on Ra’s or Tallia. Cuz he hadn’t been in the Zone before Danny either.

Danny himself, much less concerned, waved a hand vaguely.

“Oh, we’ll deal with that on the way home. Go do a proper meet and greet, that sort of thing,” he said nonchalantly, and Jason’s shoulders settled a little.

“They’re in the Zone then?” He prodded a little further, not fully willing to let the matter just drop. If he had to ghost-emancipate himself, he’d rather be ready sooner than later.

Danny grinned toothily at him.

“Usually. We’ll see if she’s around, but it might have to be another day. Gotta deal with our other list first, like if our whole halfa deal is gonna do anything to the knight thing, or your core coming in,” he added, looking expectantly at Frostbite.

Jason almost missed what he said next as his heart skipped a beat, a possibility he’d never even considered slamming home.

She.

Someone dead, if they were in the Ghost Zone.

Someone who’d claimed him as her son long ago, guided him as best she could. Someone he’d never expected to see again, not even having died and returned to life himself.

No chance, he told himself quickly, hurriedly refocusing on the conversation at hand. About his bond with Danny, about their shared fucked biology, about his whole undead future.

There was no point dredging up the past until he actually knew.

Frostbite was back in his familiar role of teacher, that same proud/warm/fond smile crinkling the corners of his eyes as he looked at Danny.

“For your bond, Great One, I am not sure what I would even test for. The young knight presently has no ghost form, yet the bond is present exactly as if he had. I am afraid we have no records of former halfas, so any problems which occurred before are long lost.”

The yeti gave the tablet another few careful claw strokes, pulling up lines and lines of scrolling numbers and data beside each of their silhouettes on the wall screen. Forcing himself to the present, Jason scanned them quickly.

Unsurprisingly, he couldn’t actually make heads or tails of it; ghost vitals couldn’t really include things like heartbeat, blood oxygenation, or anything they’d test for in the med bay.

Not until Bruce found out about all this crap anyway - Jason wouldn’t put it past him to try and buy out everything the Far Frozen had in his latest snit of paranoia. The second he got over his “oh no Jason is going somewhere I can’t supervise him”, obviously.

Frostbite clearly knew what it all meant though, highlighting a couple of different areas where Danny’s numbers were very different from Jason’s and giving him that reassuring smile.

“After your first transformation I would expect some of these to change, and it is likely that any differences in your particular bond would show then as well. Your ghost form will of course be entirely ectoplasmic, so the bond will be more present than it is even now.”

That snapped Jason from his internal flailing, and he grimaced at the reminder.

Because… yeah. They’d talked a lot about his first transformation, he and Danny. But the only thing Danny hadn’t really known was when to expect it.

“Yeah… about that. I know the basics, inversion of my moment of death crap, I’ll be able to change it eventually, yadda yadda,” and that was its own sword of Damacles hanging with the mistletoe, “but… when will it happen? Like, will it just… happen? Or will I… yeah.”

Even wording the question made him feel like the whole thing was just too complicated. He wasn’t even sure what he wanted to ask; what to look for? Would there be symptoms? Would he just un-die again in the street?

Luckily Frostbite seemed much more comfortable, hitting a few buttons on his tablet. Jason’s scan took over the full screen once more, zoomed in on the two orbs in his chest.

They were pulsing too, growing brighter and dimmer along with the more defined throb of the ectoplasm. Which was actually when he noticed that both cores were throbbing, so… was Pitty also a knight?

That was going on the list of questions for Clockwork like, yesterday. If he could get it its own little fear gun…

“As you can see, your core is still fuzzy around the edges and incompletely formed; once these edges have smoothed out, you will hypothetically be able to transform at any time,” Frostbite explained, blissfully aware of Jason’s new train of thought.

Probably for the best. Jason reluctantly refocused on the screen, tabling the idea of Sir Pitty for now. Nice to have something actually positive to look forward to.

He didn’t really remember seeing much of the screen during his last appointment, but he had seen the perfect sphere of Danny’s core, and his looked… well, like Frostbite said, smaller and kinda fuzzy. Like a ball of dough after it started sticking to your hands and losing its shape.

He frowned and nodded, looking back to Frostbite and then glancing around at Danny.

“So not until the next appointment, probably? Will it just… happen out of nowhere? Or will I need to trigger it?” It kinda helped, narrowing the scope. Dealing with it one step at a time.

Danny gave a helpless shrug.

“My powers started activating randomly, but I didn’t actually transform until I was in danger. Not like, life threatening danger,” he added with a roll of his eyes, like he’d heard Pitty’s growl… or maybe Jason had echoed it. “It was just Lunch Lady, she was never gonna really hurt us. She just made a mess and tried to feed everyone meat.”

Jason privately added Lunch Lady to his “asses to kick” list. On principle.

Frostbite gave a thoughtful nod, a large hand clapping down on Jason’s shoulder a lot harder than he’d probably intended. He didn’t flinch, but before his pit-growth-spurt it might have knocked him over.

“We can experiment more once your core is complete here in the Zone, and I would recommend waiting until Pitty has been expelled, if possible. Of course, any other changes in your knighthood bond will likely make themselves known with your first change as well,” the yeti mused, quite pleased with the idea.

Jason hesitated before agreeing, worry twisting through him again before he tamped it back down.

He wasn’t that scared little boy anymore; not inside. Besides, the bond was already firmly in place.

His soul was resonating a pace behind Danny’s.

It wasn’t like that little trip back to the moment of his death was gonna make Danny suddenly reject him.

The poor guy was probably stuck with Jason for life anyway at this point, which for a pair of halfas meant pretty much forever.

There was not a single thing on Earth or the Watchtower that he wanted less than to stop and talk to John Fucking Constantine and Diana after the meeting.

To be completely fair, Constantine clearly didn’t want to have that conversation any more either; Bruce had not been wrong about how well the magician would take the news that the United States had declared war on an entire dimension.

He was visibly green, had actually ground an unlit cigarette into a grainy mess against the table in lieu of lighting up, and looked about ready to lick up the tobacco.

Diana did not look happy either, but she never had. Her face was as stony and grave as Bruce had ever seen it, concern writ large even as she caught his eye.

The sure knowledge that her lasso would follow if he tried to leave was the only thing that kept him from ignoring her.

But since the only thing he wanted in the world at this moment was to have his son in his arms, and there was no chance of that happening until they were in the same dimension once more…

Bruce shot a quick, questioning look at Clark as the traitor made his way to the exit along with the rest of the Justice League. The Kryptonian at least had the grace to look a little guilty as he shook his head, stepping quickly out the door.

Wonder Woman hadn’t specifically told everyone else to get the fuck out. She had simply molded herself into an immovable force, concluded the meeting, and instructed Bruce alone to remain and discuss these… complications.

Bruce considered making an argument for Superman’s inclusion. They were the original three, and they’d probably need at least his and Aquaman’s help to handle the diplomatic situation.

Possibly the Oa, and Bruce was quite sure Green Lantern wasn’t looking forward to that possibility any more than he was. Hal Jordan talked a good game, always far too flippant, but he’d been pale enough by the end of the lecture that his suit made him look frankly unwell.

Unpleasant times would be in all of their futures it seemed. It was no real comfort as he slipped into a seat across from Wonder Woman and the slumped form of John Constantine.

The magician didn’t even look up, but clearly noticed.

“Didn’t fuckin’ think anyone’d fuck this up worse’n you, Bats,” he groaned, face still pressed into the table.

Bruce grunted, uninterested in his judgement.

“There are new complications we should focus on.” A vain hope, and one Diana instantly crushed.

“One that makes the contents of our discussion all the more vital,” she corrected sharply, piercing blue eyes narrowed as she watched his face. “It seems we have already caused unintentional offence.”

Which was an extremely light way to phrase the declared genocide, but Bruce didn’t bother arguing that position. Not when Constantine would do it for him.

But the mage just let out a long, hearty groan.

“Offence. Yeah. Maybe if we saw off the United States and toss it through a portal the rest of us will be fine,” he snarked, raising his head just enough to bang it off the table. Repeatedly.

By the third bang Diana gripped the back of his head, holding him in place against the table.

“Whatever the situation,” she growled, her tone daring either of them to comment, “we must deal with it as it is. You believe we would have noticed any countermeasures from the former Ghost King?”

She released her grip a moment later, and Constantine rolled his head just enough to glare at her through one eye.

“Pariah Dark? Sister, it wouldn’ta been a single town bein’ pulled off the map. We’d have lost the continent, and probably the world. You wouldn’t miss it,” he added with a bitter laugh, clearly considering banging his head off the table again.

Diana placed a hand on the table. Constantine set his head back down gently.

“And the new king?” She prodded, all icy control.

Bruce had to admit, even he felt calmer watching her.

He knew all the follies and foibles of gods, had no delusions about the limits of her power. He also knew her strengths. Her wisdom. Her ability to cut through complex issues with sword or words.

Whatever he missed, she was removed enough from this mess to catch.

Constantine shrugged, still not rising.

“No fuckin’ clue. All I know is they’re better’n Pariah, which is the lowest damn bar I ever saw. They call them Balance, and we’re not gonna fuckin’ like when the scales come due.”

Bruce’s brows furrowed. What could be a sufficient counterweight for demanding a whole people be hunted and experimented on until extinction?

The dead always vastly outnumbered the living.

Diana cut across his thoughts, her tone as sharp as her blade.

“So you believe we’d notice.”

Constantine sighed heavily and flopped back in his seat hard enough that he nearly toppled over. Diana steadied the chair with one hand, eyebrow rising archly.

Constantine stopped flailing, went to fold his arms, and instead stuffed his hands in his pockets.

“Probably’d be pretty hard to miss too,” he agreed gruffly. Diana nodded, having received the answer she wanted, and interlaced her fingers.

“Then we have time to rectify matters before word reaches his ears.” She paused, brow furrowing as she recounted John’s words. “Do we not know if the King is a man?”

Constantine shrugged again, pulling something unidentifiable from his pocket before hastily shoving it back in, coming out again with a lighter. He spun it between his fingers, eyes fixed on the metal lid.

“Nah. “King” is just a loose translation to living tongues, for what yer used to. Easier to say than “Supreme High Ruler, Core of the Realms”. Not even likely that they were ever human; not even the Ancients could take Pariah solo to take the crown, so a human ghost wouldn’t stand a chance.”

Huffing out a mighty breath, Constantine looked from the lighter to Bruce, his gaze somehow immeasurably more tired. Bruce had imagined that talking about Amity Park made the man look ancient.

He looked haggard enough to be an ancient ghost himself now.

Raising his other hand, he began counting off points on his fingers.

“We know they’re young. Everything agrees on that. Could be any time in the past few centuries, but it’s still a timeline. We know they’re tougher’n Hell and all its demons put together, cuz they put Pariah down single handed. Had to to get the throne. Might not have Ended him, the Casket of Eternal Slumber’s not turned up looking for a new occupant.”

The magician stared at his two fingers for a moment, then sighed and raised a third.

“And we know ghosts like them. They’re less scared, though most of ‘em never knew shit about Pariah. Didn’t even react to him waking, which had to happen for the change in power. That or it all went down too fast for the shockwaves to reach us here; not bloody likely. Wouldn’t take more than a day, and ghosts fight for decades on a whim.”

He hesitated for a moment, considering that last finger. Finally he sighed and shook his head.

“Can’t rule it out though. Pariah waking up’d be as much an emergency for them as it’d be for us, putting his ass back down is an all hands on deck situation on either side of the veil. If this new king is Balance, Pariah’d be their opposite,” he finished gruffly, glaring at all three digits before stuffing both hands into his pockets.

Bruce nodded, drawing a deep, calming breath in through his nose and then out through his mouth. Even this much discussion had something itching in the back of his mind, a building tension that he had to Get Away.

He was in control of it though. Could tell the difference between his own unease and the burning ember of the oath.

Turn and run right away his ass. Magic could never hold out against cool, calm logic.

“And this new king, Balance, has stamped a damn mark on Jason.”

And his breath hitched.

Sharp, white hot panic flared behind his eyes, every muscle clenching with the effort of not leaping straight from the table. The only reason he didn’t was because he had no idea where to go.

What would he even do? Run to Jason’s side? The boy was in another dimension, far beyond Bruce’s reach.

Again.

He was losing Jason again. Losing him to this Ghost King, this Balance, this-

Diana’s hand clamped firmly over his, the amazon’s grip immovable steel. Bruce felt his bones grinding together before he even noticed he’d stopped breathing, before he managed to look up enough to meet her eyes.

Stern, determined, brilliant blue locked with his. Her grip tightened a little further, the ribbing on his gloves creaking with the pressure.

She wouldn’t break them… probably. They were designed to hold up against any of the supers the League dealt with. Prolonged contact was another thing entirely though.

His attention now locked on her face, Bruce managed a deep breath in along with her. Held it when she did. Let it out.

She didn’t release him for another few repetitions, until he was breathing mostly on his own again. Then she returned her attention to Constantine.

“What.” It wasn’t aggressive. Just a completely flat, completely toneless statement.

Constantine gave her an entirely hopeless smile, pulling his hands from his pockets to give her jazz hands.

“And that’s what he’s not ready to hear yet. Your boy, Jason, Red Hood, has gotten himself personally warded by the Ghost King. He’s the next thing to invulnerable right now,” he added bitterly, as if that made any of it better.

An icy hand clenched in Bruce’s chest again, but he forced himself to still. To breathe through it. To not turn and run, run until he found his child and tore him away from whatever influence had him.

The Ghost King had a hold of Jason. Jason who’d all but ordered Bruce to let him go.

“And Jason must have been in direct contact with the King to receive these wards?” Diana asked sharply, and Bruce’s head snapped back to her.

It was a good question. Important, obvious, there was a connection there that he should be making, but he couldn’t think. His head was spinning, heart pounding, and every shadow seemed black as pitch.

Constantine grunted an agreement, shooting Bruce an almost sympathetic look.

Could. Could this be the oath? Not his own instinctive, natural panic?

Bruce couldn’t tell, he’d been so afraid for so long, ever since he held Jason’s broken body in his arms. Ever since he buried his son.

It felt the same. But he had mastered that fear long ago, so this would not control him now. He had to be better.

Frowning at Diana, he leaned forward.

“Explain.” She’d probably assumed that he’d made the same connection. He probably should have.

There was just a brief flash of surprise on her face before her expression softened, her hand gentling over his.

“Jason was the one who told you of these Anti Ecto Acts, was he not?” She asked pointedly, a dark brow arching delicately.

Bruce about managed a grunt of agreement, his jaw clenched too tightly to speak. She waited a moment longer, watching his face, and then sighed.

“Then is it not likely that either he has told Balance of these Acts, or that Balance was the one that told him?”

Constantine jerked and got halfway through a bellowed curse before she cut him off with a glare. Her tone brooked no argument as she continued with a firm, frosted patience.

“Jason is a principled young man, even if not of the exact principles you prefer. Either he has warned you because he believes we have time to fix this, or because the King would prefer we handle it,” she said bluntly.

It sounded so simple, put like that. Far too simple. Bruce shook his head, leaning in.

“We can’t know for sure-”

“Batman.” There was nothing harsh in her tone. Nothing so overtly aggressive as the glare she kept giving Constantine. Just a calm, cool statement that sucked the air from his lungs.

The weight of her own mantle, the Amazon princess who would one day be Queen. Not his friend Diana; Wonder Woman.

Once she was sure he wouldn’t continue, she fixed him with a sapphire stare.

“Do you believe Jason Todd would condone the end of the world?” She asked simply, and that at least was that plain.

“No.” It didn’t even require thought; whatever he feared ever since his son took his first life, Bruce knew that.

Jason was fundamentally a good boy. So kind, so giving, ironically he had been the most well adjusted boy Bruce had ever given the mantle to.

Which was what made what he’d become so painful. It was everything he never should have been.

Wonder Woman nodded as if that solved all the rest.

“And yet you called the meeting, not him. He has known for several days already and did nothing to alert any of us. Therefore, he does not believe this is an urgent threat.”

It sounded good, and Bruce almost believed it before Constantine snorted.

“Yeah, great, except the kid has no fuckin’ clue what he’s dealing with. Didn’t even know he’d been fuckin’ marked or that sellin’ his fuckin’ service was the dumbest fuckin’ thing he coulda done,” he grumbled and Bruce’s heart fell.

Wonder Woman was not so easily swayed. She raised an eyebrow slowly at the magician.

“And could those protective marks have been placed on Jason against his will?” She asked pointedly, like she knew the first thing about magic.

Constantine hesitated. Frowned a little, thinking hard. Finally he threw both hands in the air and leaned back in his chair, scrubbing them down his face.

“Technically, yes, alright? But I can’t think of a damn reason why they’d bother. Like I told the old Bat, it’s technically a good thing; I couldn’t even get a basic diagnostic spell off, he’s completely fuckin’ magic proof an’ anythin’ that can read that ward will run like fuck.”

Something in Bruce’s chest flickered hopefully. Wonder Woman nodded firmly, then redirected her stare to him.

“Then until we have reason not to, we assume that Jason Todd has control of this situation. He has assigned us to deal with these Acts, either before his king discovers them or on their behalf. You, Batman, will defer to his experience along with that of our experts,” she declared with all the ringing command she was capable of.

It chafed. And yet… he could hear the echo of Harley’s words in her voice.

What if Jason was wrong? It was the kind of thing he always thought about, the kind of thing he couldn’t stop thinking about. The kind of thing that had the Batman able to stand and go toe to toe with gods.

But what if Jason was right? What if Harley, Diana, Constantine were right, and his usual measures would spell disaster?

He had a dozen contingency plans that any member of the League could use to take him down. He was painfully aware that the first one, the one he’d already shown to Superman and Wonder Woman, only had two words in it.

Diana’s Judgement.

She hadn’t technically invoked it yet. Had never bothered asking exactly what he meant by it; she wasn’t one to back down from hard subjects, which meant she’d also never bothered hiding how little she thought of his contingency plans.

His League-specific ones, anyway. She liked the ones he had for the rogues and various end of the world crises.

It meant moments like this, where she would give him her honest, simple judgement and reign him in.

(Technically it also meant that he trusted her to decide when she needed to snap his neck, but Martian Manhunter always looked at him with disappointment when he thought about that side too much.)

Looking back to her face, he managed to meet her eyes and nod once. It went against every instinct he had, every year of experience and loss, but…

If he couldn’t do things he didn’t like, he’d never have become Batman.

Head spinning with a plethora of new information, bag of ecto candies in hand, Jason deliberately slowed down to let Danny precede him out of Frostbite’s office.

That little suspicion had been growing, kindling the more they discussed halfa anatomy and bonds, and honestly? Yes, he had been using it as an excuse to think about something other than his own problems.

Danny seemed not to notice, disappearing past the doorway as Jason looked up at Frostbite. Figured fuck it; he didn’t know how much time he had. Best be blunt.

“You’re Danny’s ghost parent, aren’t you?” He asked, knowing from the yeti’s face as he did that he was right.

The way it froze for just a moment, eyes flicking to the door Danny had just left through. Then the smile that spread, knowing and secretive as he bent down for the first time to put his face on Jason’s level.

“He takes such pleasure in believing he does not have one; the Great One values his independence highly, and his history with parental figures is… complex. It can be our secret, yes?” The yeti winked.

Jason hesitated for a moment, thinking back to all he knew about Danny’s home life. It wasn’t actually all that much; Danny probably actually knew more about Jason’s, after the last week.

That wasn’t just a rarity, it was practically unheard of for any of the former Robins, and Jason knew exactly how Dick and Harley would react to that information.

They’d accuse him of growth. Gross. They couldn’t be told.

And yeah, maybe Jason had a bit of a personal understanding of why Danny wouldn’t want an overabundance of parental figures around. Their situations weren’t exactly the same, not really, but Jason knew enough verses of the song.

All teen heroes tended to have certain things in common, the biggest of which was whatever parental figure they had failing to protect them. Failing to keep them from the darkness, forcing a kid to take on a mantle and burdens that they never should have.

He’d wanted to pound Bruce’s bones to pulp for putting another kid in his cape. Wound up nearly pounding Tim’s instead, however the pit and Tallia had twisted things to make that seem like the same thing.

And Danny hadn’t just picked up the mantle of Teen Hero. He’d picked up a crown, a whole realm of responsibilities and rulership over the dead.

Personally, Jason thought Danny was missing out on an easy dodge of king duties by not finding his ghost parent; Clockwork was his regent but still apparently bothered him for work.

A parent ruling until the child was of age was behind most of the most brutal regicides in any monarchic system; the dead had to know about it.

But that’d mean Clockwork bothering Frostbite at all hours, possibly. Or Clockwork finding new excuses to keep checking on a crown prince Jason had already seen was a handful.

Yeah, he could see why no one really challenged Danny’s assertion that he didn’t have a ghost parent.

Jason spared a moment wondering about his own again.

He knew better than to hope, he really did. Catherine Todd deserved much better than an afterlife of watching over his many mistakes. If there was any justice to death, she’d moved straight past the realms and into the most perfect of paradises.

He liked to think she’d be proud of him. Of the work he’d done, the good he’d spread through the Alley even if it was on the end of a gun.

So long as it wasn’t any form of al Ghul whatsoever, Jason was pretty sure he could handle any other ghost parent the multiverse could throw at him.

Danny’s head poked back around the corner, grinning in a very worried way between the two of them.

“Everything okay back here?” He asked with some of the worst overhyped cheer Jason had ever heard.

Alright, maybe Danny would actually also have been a problem for ghost parent. Because Jason thought he was hot. Because he was an awful mother hen even as a friend.

Jason raised his bag of ecto candies.

“Just checking how many of these I can safely have in a day,” he said innocently, and kinda hoped Danny didn’t actually feel the wash of Frostbite’s approval as the yeti straightened.

That would give the game away.

“They are not a substitute for sleep or nutrition for your human form,” Frostbite told him, as if that was what they’d been talking about.

Jason sighed heavily, doing his best impression of Tim being handed decaf.

“Listen, a guy can hope?”

“Oh you’re not gonna win that one,” Danny snickered, brightening with the distraction and all but skipping in to take Jason’s arm, “let’s scram before he gets the powerpoints.”

Frostbite gave them a cheerful wave on the way out the door, and Jason managed a mostly sincere smile as Danny began regaling him on some of his teenaged attempts to persuade Frostbite to let him give up sleep for finals week.

Yeah, he might add the Fenton parents to the butt-kicking list. Below the ghosts, obviously, for whom butt-kicking was a social courtesy.

But, y’know. If he ever got the chance to have a quiet word about taking care of your damn kids.

———————

And here we have Part 1! Imma just yeet it up so you can all get started while I edit Part 2, because again, this is a Girthy One without an easier breakpoint 👀

I’ll still try and get Part 2 done tonight, but I’ve kept y’all waiting long enough

Tag List: @welcometosasakiworld @kyrianclawraith @someonebored0100 @stealingyourbones @starkcravingmad @frostedthroughghost @akikkobara @rainbowbunny0159 @littlefeather345 @violet-catsarelife @serasvictoria02 @wolfjackle @blacksea21090 @secretdestinywerewolf @anime-hipster-the-amazing @undead-essence @skitscratched @blackroserelina @snoodly-boop @mayoota-blog @xysidhe @little-apricot-the-writer @chaoticmistake @the-legal-shipper @bun-fish @aroranorth-west @demon-cat-goes-woof f @perfectwastelandcreation @onyxlightdragon @larks-and-katydids @peachesandcreamfemboy @jesus-camp-the-sequel @may-rbi @mothman-the-mothman87 @viyatrix @stargirl1331 @idfk-man10 @thedepressedrobin @skulld3mort-1fan @rootsmudge @ravenshadow17 @cankoking @phantom-dc @mentalcarebear @magic-pincushion @redamancyardor @lyra689 @itsparadoxlacuna @alcorbearson @asphyxia778 8 @why-must-i-be-like-this @tkiesai i @greenpyrowolf @frivolous-pastel @honeysuckletook @adorkable1291

Part Two:

#dp x dc #dpxdc #dc x dp #dcxdp #danny fenton dead and loving it #chapter 17 i bet #well you did get down on one knee #dead on main ship #danny x jason #slowest burn we burn so slow it looks like rust

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k-atsukibakugou · 7 months

Text

────────⌕ search: mercury/katsuki-bakugou

updated 20th april 2024

masterlist • archive of our own • wip updates • my kofi please bear in mind all my works will be female/femme reader & remember to check the warnings

worship me | nsfw 18+ | 2.9k — 26/04/2022 *originally posted to gwen0m

summary: an unforgettable autumn night at your private catholic college when Father Bakugo approaches you after late-night studying at the church’s library. warnings: noncon, unprotected vaginal sex, blasphemy, manipulation, dacryphilia, corrupt priest, breeding & threatening

before he cheats | implied nsfw 18+ | 1.8k — 11/08/2022

summary: hell hath no fury like a woman scorned, and god, does it turn a man on with that fire in your eyes and bat swinging in your hand, ready to key the car of the man who wronged you. warnings: feminine pronouns/nicknames/descriptions, fantasising, mentions of weapons (bat, knife), bakugou gets horny over crazy girls

what's your favourite scary movie? | nsfw 18+ | 4.9k — 03/11/2023

summary: finally convincing one of your best friends to come to the 30th anniversary re-release of scream, he figures out one of your best-kept secrets. warnings: femme reader (called girl, has a pussy, wears makeup n a skirt), death threat kinda lmao, public & unprotected sex, blood mention, knife mention, reader implied to be recon/stealth hero, not beta’d bc i got nervous and we die like men, this is like all lead up my b

do something, babe, say something | angst | 2.0k — 09/11/2023

summary: you tell katsuki bakugou you love him for the first time warnings: gn!reader, miscommunication, self sacrifice

wired | nsfw 18+ | 9.3k — 15/12/2023

summary: honing your kickboxing skills with pro hero dynamight can lead to a) insane improvements of your skills, becoming the best version of yourself with each critique you get, b) a crush like no other you’ve ever had in your life, or c) all of the above? warnings: fem!reader (“girl”, “cunt”, “pussy” used) slight age gap but not a main plot point, a lil bit of violence, making out, brattish reader, choking (ish), hair pulling, dry humping, slight edging, public sex, unprotected sex, implied use of birth control

bad enough for you | nsfw 18+ | 4.0k — 15/01/2024

summary: bathrooms at house parties are only made for one thing warnings: fem!reader (has a pussy, wearing makeup + skirt), established relationship, toxic relationship, cheating, alcohol mention (tipsy sex), blood/biting/marking/cutting mention, unprotected sex, degradation/name calling (not really but just in case), hair pulling, fingering (f!receiving), oral (m!receiving)

like a girl does | nsfw 18+ | 6.7k — 19/02/2024

summary: you're finally being introduced to your girlfriend's friends, invited to a last minute party, any confidence melting from you when you see another girl clinging to her arm. warnings: fauxcest (bakugou referred to as your step sister/sister), dubcon, bakugou is TOXIC, feminine/girly reader (she/her pronouns; wearing makeup; nails + a dress; long hair/out/on her face), reader referred to as a puppy (degradingly not petplay lmao), pet names (pretty + baby), emotional manipulation, cheating (on reader, implied to be with ochako but not overtly), alcohol + weed mention, reader a lillll bit of a crybaby, public/car sex, oral (r! receiving)

fantasise | nsfw 18+ | 1.5k — 20/04/2024

summary: katsuki sees your sex toys once and is haunted by what you look like using them. warning/s: m! & f!masturbation, sex toys, fantasising

bakugou helping you out when your piercing gets stuck — 11/12/2022

kiri n bakugou, under v overstimulation [nsfw] — 16/11/2022

katsuki watching a rabbit review [nsfw] — 27/10/2023

lying is the most fun a girl can have without taking her clothes off — 14/11/2023

"make me" [nsfw] — 06/12/2023

if katsuki ever lost his memory — 12/12/2023

sleeping with bakugou — 24/12/2023

big brother bakugou [nsfw] — 11/01/2024

valentine’s day — 09/02/2024

childhood best friends — 23/03/2024

teasing him — 09/04/2024

© all works belong to @k-atsukibakugou, @gwen0m, and dlirious on archive of our own, do not plagiarise, translate, repost or recommend my work on other platforms or translate my works, i do not give permission for my works to be bound and sold. 18+ minors and ageless blogs do not interact.

#line dividers by me #bakugou x reader #bakugo x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugo katsuki x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #k-atsukibakugou #「mercury writes」#「kat <3」

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topaz-witch-tea · 6 months

Note

So I just want to say I love your work so far but also random request, Yanqing’s first word. I can just imagine the bets going on for his first word and when he says it no one knows who he’s talking about like AUJSBUENJSNUBD

Aww! Thank you!

I love this request. I actually have a Psych degree so I read a bit on the science behind first words to prepare an answer for this ask.

Barring sounds babies make naturally (mama, dada, baba), Yanqing's first word is Cat.

For a group of well-educated and fairly competitive men, they could not settle for words that were "close enough". Babies made noise that sounded close enough to "mama" and parents took it as their baby recognizing their mom even if the baby said it to a potted plant.

Yanqing babbled but babbling did not denote "words" according to Yingxing. "Any baby can babble. I want a clear word." Jing Yuan did note that the request was "a bit excessive. Don't you think those standards are too high for such a baby?"

"Nonsense, Yanqing will obviously say Baba and know that it is me. I want a victory no one can dispute." Yingxing had bet his most recent creation.

Dan Feng was quite offended at the idea his son would say "Baba over Ba". Citing that it was an illogical thing to bet on before promising a rare set of Vidyadhara armor to the winner.

Jing Yuan had actually betted on "Mimi". "A-die is such a hard thing for babies to say on their first try. Mimi is much easier and Yanqing adores her very much." The item on the line was a rare manuscript from his family's archives.

JIngliu found the whole thing ridiculous but placed her support behind Dan Feng. "If a baby can say 'Baba', it is obvious it would be able to say Ba first." She put a fine bottle of wine that was made and bottled before the rise of Lan.

Baiheng, of course, threw her hat behind Yingxing. Besides being very close to each other, she cited "Yanqing like saying Baba a lot, even if he says it to the soda and the tree. He's bound to recognize that it means Yingxing one day." She had placed a prized starskiff on the line, a vintage, racing starskiff she had repaired.

In the hope of encouraging his first word, they had put in a lot of effort to read aloud to Yanqing. During one of these story times, there was a fluffy, white cat on the cover of the novel. "This is a cat, Yanqing. They're quite cute and are all over the Luofu." Jing Yuan said as he pointed at the animal.

A month after the wager was made, Yanqing shouted his first word in the middle of a family dinner. The family was gathered around the table and Yanqing was seated in his high chair munching on yogurt bites. Mimi moved to poke Yanqing's nose with her cold nose, causing him to pull his feet back and laugh.

"CAT!" Yanqing shouted out, reaching his hand out to pet Mimi's mane. The word was met with a shocked silence before the dinner table descended into chaos.

"What did you say Yanqing?" Jing Yuan picked his son out of the high chair. "Cat! Cat!" Yanqing kept reaching for Mimi, who had started eating the yogurt bites Yanqing left on the table.

Dan Feng's face was a mixture of ecstatic joy and slight disappointment. Yingxing was still frozen in shock before bursting into laughter when Yanqing pointed at Baiheng's ear and shouted "Cat!" Jingliu found the whole thing incredibly amusing and had the bottle of wine opened in celebration of Yanqing's first word.

This development led Yanqing to start calling anything fluffy, white, and/or pointed-eared "CAT!"

Jing Yuan? Cat.

Tingyun's little foxes? Cat.

Yukong, Tinyun, and Qingni? Cat.

Many, many things in Yanqing's little world were called "Cat" which may have been for the best considering what items were on the line.

#yanqing #yanqing’s happy family au #honkai star rail #jing yuan #yingxing #dan feng #hsr #yanqing's happy family au asks #baiheng #jingliu #mimi

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awkward-tension-art · 2 months

Text

Little Parasite

Leon S. Kennedy x AFAB!reader (I tried to make pronouns gender neutral but I might have missed a few)

Warnings: Pregnancy, unplanned pregnancy, Leon needs a hug, mentions of plaga infection, mentions of sex, swearing, hating on the government, takes place after RE4 remake.

Pregnant.

Oh fuck you were pregnant.

You stared at the positive stick in your hands.

Positive. Positive.

This was impossible. You were on birth control! You and Leon were always safe when-

Spain.

When you were kidnapped, you hadn’t been able to take your pill. You went several days without taking it. That wouldn’t have been much of a problem if the parasites you had been infected with didn’t cause multiple episodes of an intense need to breed.

How many times had you and Leon fucked during your rescue? How many times did he cum inside of you during the plaga induced delirium?

Not to mention when you joined the mile high club on the plane ride back to the states.

If the fetus inside of you was conceived when you both were infected…

What was inside of you?

You put a hand to your stomach. It's been 3 months since you got back.3 months of nightmares, white house funded therapy and multiple visits to a government science lab. When you missed your period you didn’t think much of it. You went through a lot of stress. Plus, the moment you got back you resumed your birth control pills on schedule.

No. You were panicking for no reason. Pregnancy tests come back with false positives all the time.

Deep breath. It was probably a false positive.

Still, you ended up making a phone call to your OBGYN. The receptionist sounded somewhat concerned, your last appointment was only 6 months ago. You couldn’t come up with a proper answer as to why you desperately needed the doctor as soon as possible.

Once the call was over you put the phone down and breathed.

Leon was asleep in your shared bedroom. He had come back from a mission last night, and needed the rest.

You didn’t need to tell him, right? After all this was nothing. There wasn’t any need to wake him up and scare or worry him. After all, you haven’t had any morning sickness. No other symptoms were showing up.

It was nothing! Just a false positive.

Two days later, you were on your back with ultrasound gel on your stomach. Your eyes were trained on the screen.

That was not a false positive.

“Judging by the size, I'd say you're about 11 weeks.” your OBGYN confirmed, pointing on the screen, “Here's the head…”

The baby was conceived in Spain.

Her words were fading off into nothing. Your wide eyes were on the black and white screen. That little blob was an embryo. That would grow into a fetus. From there, a baby.

Baby.

“Oh my god.” You breathed, mind unable to cope, “Oh my god…”

How did this not come up on any of those tests the lab ran!?

A sudden thought came into your head. With horror, you realized that the lab most likely knew and deliberately didn’t tell you.

You were under no delusion you could trust the government. Your dad was the fucking president. You knew how cut throat and ruthless everything involved with the country's leadership was. After your kidnap, you were finally informed of the science that was being hidden from the public to avoid a panic.

Most likely you were being watched by undercover agents. You’ve been at this OBGYN for years, and you never saw that receptionist with the red hair. Chances are, both your father and the science lab knew about this appointment the moment you made it.

Your panicked eyes went to your doctor. What would she tell them? Would HIPAA come into play here? How good was the hippocratic oath when the national leader demanded answers?

Who could you trust?

“Is it-...” Your throat felt tight.

Was it normal? Any signs of developmental problems? Did it have a tail and claws? Was it actually a parasite?

“So far at 11 weeks I am seeing normal development.” She talked as if reading your mind, “It’s still too early to know the sex, but I’m seeing normal limbs and head growth. No signs of down syndrome or other chromosomal issues.”

“Blood test?” Your words sounded small, “I mean…Can I get a blood test to confirm? Just to check for anything?” Did a blood test for ancient Spanish parasites even exist? You scrambled for a reason, “Um…I had traveled to rural Spain 11 weeks ago…I drank some of the water there.”

It was a vague but good enough reason for your doctor.

You got your blood taken, the ultrasound photo was printed and you were sent on your way. Your eyes met the new receptionist when you made another appointment for next week.

Agent.

Your father knew.

If your dad knew that you were pregnant, then the government lab did as well.

As you drove, your head was filled with dangerous thoughts. What would they do to the fetus? What would they do to you ? Would they force you to terminate and use the cells for experiments? Would they make you carry to term and take the baby from you?

Unconsciously, one of your hands rested on your stomach. Right now, your brain went into overdrive. You’d fight tooth and nail to keep this life safe inside of you.

Maternal instinct.

Honestly, you thought it was a myth. It probably was, but then you couldn’t explain the sudden need to protect this baby in your belly.

…Baby

There was a baby growing inside of you. A life created between you and the man you loved. A child that you and Leon made together. An act of love and intimacy had formed a whole new existence.

You swallowed thickly.

This…this was hardly the time to have a kid. You had your job and career. Plus, Leon was gone on missions a lot. Dangerous missions that could end up with him dead. Your child might grow up without a father…nothing but a folded flag and a photo to tell them that their dad perished protecting the country.

“Stop it.” you forced yourself to speak, “Just stop it.” Your mind was spiraling. Forcing you to tackle some things you didn’t want to accept yet. No, you had to focus. You were driving, and frankly, panicking behind the wheel of a moving vehicle is a great way to get yourself killed.

You noticed a black car had been tailing you for the last several miles. Secret service. One of your dads agents.

Or kidnappers .

Honestly, with your life now, any of those three were options.

Well, at least you had a concealed carry this time.

You pulled into your driveway, hand resting on the pistol hidden at your hip as you opened the door to step out. The car drove past, most likely going to turn around and set up surveillance somewhere nearby.

Jesus, can’t you have a normal life?

You unlocked the door to your condo, stepping in to see Leon pacing. He was agitated, running his hands through his blonde hair. He perked up, looking at you as soon as you closed and locked the door.

“Leon?” You put your keys down, approaching him, “Is everything-?”

“Where…were you?” He swallowed. You could see his hands shaking ever so slightly.

“I..went to see my OB.” you answered him, holding his face in your hands, “What's going on?”

“The lab…they called…” your fiance put his hands over yours, “You need to go in for further testing. I don’t know why, they said they found something.”

Oh fuck you government!

You sighed, “Great…” You pulled away, “There's something I need to show you.” Your steps went to your bag that you put down by the door.

“Is everything ok?” He asked, following you.

“I..I think so.” You spoke truthfully, pulling out the ultrasound photos. Your own anxiety was spiking now. You knew Leon wanted a family of his own. You two have talked about it. But were you ready to be parents?

You held up the photos.

Leon’s eyes widened. He raised his hands slowly, as if afraid of breaking or ripping them. He rubbed his thumb over the surface. You watched his gaze roam over the pictures, as if committing every detail to memory.

Your fiance stepped back and leaned against the wall. His eyes remained on the photos, not looking up at anything else around him.

The result of your love. Half of you and half of him had created that little blob inside of you. That blob would grow into a baby. A child.

“Really?” The agent sounded quiet, voice almost a whisper.

You nodded, “Yea…really…And i know it's-”

He cut you off by immediately wrapping his strong arms around you. You could feel the tears when he buried his face into your shoulder.

“I love you,” Leon breathed, pulled back to pepper your face with kisses, “Oh my god, I love you. I love you.” One hand cupped your cheek, and the other was on your stomach with an open palm.

You giggled, “Happy?”

“Happy? Happy doesn’t even cover it.” His voice was light and joyful. His fingers brushed over your middle, “I'm ecstatic. Excited. I…God, I love you.” Your fiance knelt burying his face into your stomach to start placing pecks all over and whisper loving words. You weren’t even showing yet and he was already beginning to coo and mumble baby talk.

You couldn’t help but laugh.

#reader insert #leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy #resident evil x reader #leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy #re 4 leon #tw: pregnancy #tw: unplanned pregnancy #my writing

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gffa · 11 months

Photo

I think it's meant to be a little bit of both--Lucas says of them: “Anakin and Padmé are getting married in what will be a doomed relationship, which they have already stated earlier on is not gonna work. But they do love each other. They’re truly in love with each other. It’s the issue of true love over duty. It’s really the 'Romeo and Juliet' aspect of it, of a doomed relationship, in more ways than one really. She married the wrong guy.“ --George Lucas, Attack of the Clones commentary “Anakin wants to have a family. He wants to be married to Padmé and have children. […] But at the same time he knows he can’t have one. Now the greed has taken over and the fear of losing his wife and baby. The whole point is you can’t possess somebody because they are their own person. You can’t dominate and make them do everything you want them to do.” --George Lucas, The Star Wars Archives1999-2005 "The core issue, ultimately, is greed, possessiveness - the inability to let go. Not only to hold on to material things, which is greed, but to hold on to life, to the people you love - to not accept the reality of life’s passages and changes, which is to say things come, things go. Everything changes. Anakin becomes emotionally attached to things, his mother, his wife. That’s why he falls - because he does not have the ability to let go." --George Lucas, Revenge of the Sith commentary “But he become attached to his mother and he will become attached to Padme and these things are, for a Jedi, who needs to have a clear mind and not be influenced by threats to their attachments, a dangerous situation. And it feeds into fear of losing things, which feeds into greed, wanting to keep things, wanting to keep his possessions and things that he should be letting go of. His fear of losing her turns to anger at losing her, which ultimately turns to revenge in wiping out the village. The scene with the Tusken Raiders is the first scene that ultimately takes him on the road to the dark side. I mean he’s been prepping for this, but that’s the one where he’s sort of doing something that is completely inappropriate."--George Lucas, The Star Wars Archives 1999-2005 “[Anakin] turns into Darth Vader because he gets attached to things. He can’t let go of his mother; he can’t let go of his girlfriend. He can’t let go of things. It makes you greedy. And when you’re greedy, you are on the path to the dark side, because you fear you’re going to lose things, that you’re not going to have the power you need.” --George Lucas, Time magazine There's also another quote where he basically says they're really in love but it becomes kinda dysfunctional by the end, but I can't find the direct quote again, so take it with a grain of salt. The point behind the above collection of quotes is that Anidala is both, that it's genuine love--it has to be genuine love for the story to work--and it's toxic--it has to be toxic for the story to work. The whole story is that Anakin fell into attachment (the fear of being without someone, so much that you would do terrible things or rip yourself to pieces over it, that's the Buddhist-aligned definition and the one Star Wars is working with) because he became so greedy and possessive of her that he was willing to murder children just to keep the fear of her death at bay. But in order to be a tragic story, in order for us to care about the relationship and the characters in it, it also has to be genuine and true, there has to be real love there. Ultimately, yes, it was a destructive relationship because that's the basic premise of the story--Anakin's love turned to attachment, it turned to greed, it turned to possessiveness, it turned to horror--that there are signs all along the way, but that the sweet moments are genuine, too, that their laughter in the grass on Naboo is real, that their ache for each other as the war kept them apart was real, that Padme's excitement about having their baby was real, because none of them were monsters when they started out, not even Anakin, for all that he forged himself into one. Our hearts wouldn't break for monsters if there was no love in them to start with. (Whether someone thinks this was well done or not, that's a different argument to be had! But I think fundamentally the thing the story was going for is that they started out sweet, but Anakin's fears and Padme's desire to look the other way over his terrible acts, took them to a very unhealthy, awful place in the end.)

#anakin skywalker #padme amidala #anidala for blacklist #meta

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thecoleopterawithana · 6 months

Text

youtube

Suicide

If when she tries to run away / And he calls her back, she comes / If there's a next time, he's okay / Cause she's under both his thumbs She'll limp along to his side / Singing a song of ruin, I'd / Bet he says nothin' doin' / I'd, I'd call it suicide

This is likely one of the first songs Paul ever wrote. It predates Rock 'n Roll washing up onto the Mersey shores and the tingles that started going up and down Paul's spine. Not yet acquainted with his "confidante", Paul's earliest compositions were done instead on his home piano.

This particular tune seems to have come about around Paul's fourteenth birthday, in mid-1956. It is not known how this song sounded at its genesis: did it already have the lyrics, or was it like the contemporaneous "When I'm Sixty-Four", for which he originally had only the tune?

We hear "Suicide" for the first time in the Get Back sessions, with complete lyrics and John joining in right from the first verse. From Paul's comments on the song, it does seem like he had the lyrics in mind from the get-go:

That was a song I’d had forever, since I was about 16. I had my Dad’s old piano at home, that I used to tinker about on when there was no-one in the house. And my feelings were, then, that if you were ever going to be a songwriter, the height of it all was Sinatra. That would be the greatest stuff that you could do, really a little bit before rock ‘n’ roll, so you were thinking of standards and things. So around that time I wrote “When I’m 64” and this other thing. I thought it would be a bit of a Rat Pack, smoochy, with words like “When she tries to, run away, uh-huh…” Boom! And stabs from the band, you know.

— Paul McCartney, in the McCartney - Archive Collection (2011) liner notes.

I'm curious about the timing because, in usual McCartney fashion, we have quite dark lyrics being camouflaged by a jaunty little tune (à la "Maxwell Silver Hammer", "Another Day", etc.) And they are made even darker if they were written by a fourteen-year-old boy.

When I first heard of this song, I assumed, based on the title, that it'd been written after Mary's death. So I was quite surprised when I saw its origin dated to potentially even earlier than that (although I don't really know what information these estimations are based on).

Regardless of the exact date of origin, this song had been on my mind since I heard it brought up in @anotherkindofmindpod's Fine Tuning: Ep 2 Shoulder to Shoulder. Together with Ep 4 Shells & Barriers and the wonderful analyses that emerged from it, I've been wondering about what influenced teenage Paul to write a song about a woman trying (and failing) to escape an abusive marriage. From @bidisasterhawkeye's contribution to the aforementioned post:

For those unaware, Paul's mother had a quite tragic background. The second of four children, her younger sister Agnes died at age two (cause unknown) when Mary was around eight years old. When Mary was ten, her mother died giving birth to another baby girl (who also died). At that point, Mary's older brother left their home in Liverpool to join the army and Mary's father took Mary and her toddler brother, Bill, back to his home country of Ireland. In Ireland, they apparently lived in extreme poverty as Mary's father tried and failed to become a farmer. Ten year old Mary was apparently not enrolled in school there because she was given the role of homemaker and mother to her baby brother. When Mary was around 13, her father went to Liverpool and acquired a second wife with children of her own, and this new stepmother was apparently "cruel" enough that Mary ran away at age 14 (as did Bill later).

I might have seen it mentioned somewhere around here recently (please let me know if you know where!), but it's curious that Paul wrote about women running away in "Suicide" and "She's Leaving Home", when his own teenage mother went through the same. The latter song seems to apply better to Mary's situation at fourteen. Whose story is Paul telling in "Suicide"?

Maybe it's not that deep, and "Suicide" is indeed only a joke song. Paul certainly seems to want us to believe that:

It was a real early song of mine, and I used to do it as a joke, really. […] So I never did anything with it but around the time of McCartney, I was just goofing around on piano and at the end of one of the takes there was a little bit of tape left, so I just did it and didn’t think to use it because it was Rat Pack, tongue in cheek. But I used that little fragment at the end of one of the tracks, ‘Glasses’.

Haha, good ol' Paul, goofing around with a meaningless little tune called "Suicide" right around the same time stuff like this was happening:

I was going through a bad time, what I suspect was almost a nervous breakdown. I remember lying awake at night shaking, which has not happened to me since. One night I'd been asleep and awoke and I couldn't lift my head off the pillow. My head was down in the pillow, I thought, Jesus, if I don't do this I'll suffocate. I remember hardly having the energy to pull myself up, but with a great struggle I pulled my head up and lay on my back and thought, That was a bit near! I just couldn't do anything. I had so much in me that I couldn't express and it was just very nervy times, very very difficult.

— Paul McCartney, in Barry Miles' Many Years From Now (1997).

I'll leave further ruminations on the emotional implications of "Suicide" to your discretion. Or we can take a page out of Lewisohn's book and simply conclude:

But though the words wanted work (and didn’t get it), ["Suicide"] was a charming little tune, a dance-band piece with a dash of modernity, light, engaging and original … quite exceptional for a first attempt by a boy on the cusp of 14.

#Suicide #Paul McCartney #The Beatles #Mother Mary McCartney #jim mccartney #when you were young and your heart was an open book #every day I don't want to get up get out of my bed #1956 #1969 #1970 #meta #my stuff

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ihavethedreamies · 3 months

Text

Clingy | Chenle

Zhong Chenle - NCT Dream

Rating: M (18+) MDNI

Word Count: ~5.6k

Pairing: Chenle x AFAB!Reader

Genre: Reader-Insert, Smut, Some Plot, Established Relationship

!!This is smut…if that much isn't clear you should probably leave now!! MDNI!

Warnings: She/Her Pronouns used, Slight Age Difference (Like 2 years), He calls the reader Noona, Swearing, Kissing, Oral (F! Receiving), Unprotected Sex (Use a condom! She has an IUD), First Time

Author's Note: I cannot begin to express how much I love a Lele, and for so long he was my precious baby boy but then he got, like, really hot, so here, have this.

I am cross-posting this on Archive. Please reblog! If you know anyone that would like this or future fics but they aren't on here my name and icon are exactly the same on the other two sites. Happy reading!

"Noona!" You heard him call out to you. You always did, he is quite loud. However, you already knew it was him because you heard him key in the code to your door and the following beep when it unlocked. You were busy cleaning the bathroom, night was the best time to clean. Being a night owl, you had more energy and then you could go straight to bed when you subsequently exhausted yourself from cleaning. Ringing out the magic sponge you were using, you dried your hands on a towel and went down the hall to find him in the living room.

"You're here!" You smiled and he hadn't even taken his mask off yet and was still in his coat. Since he didn't live at the dorm anyway, he would come straight to your place instead of going right home. He practically lived with you at this point.

"You tired, precious?" You asked and he nodded, whining a yes. He then lifted his arms like a child wanting to be picked up, so you go stand in front of him. The low height of the couch let him lean forward for a hug, he rested his head on your stomach. Preferring to either be fully clothed or not, you were still in your day clothes. That way, when you got all sweaty you could just take a shower, put on your PJs (a tank and panties), and go to bed. While your day clothes were a sweatshirt and jeans, still comfy, Chenle always wondered why you didn't change right away upon getting home. You told him you lost all motivation to do anything productive the minute you changed clothes, so you just didn't. You even still had your shoes on, a big no-no in Korea, but your feet hurt running around cleaning without them on. Plus, it was your apartment so you could do whatever you wanted! In reality you had sneakers you only wore at home to clean, but most people still thought it was at the least weird and at the most, offensive.

Just when you thought he was going to fall asleep like that, he pulled away to look up at you like a puppy. Reaching up you pull the strings of his mask off his ears and take the black accessory off. Letting it fall next to him on the couch, you smiled upon seeing his cute face. That sweet smile he only showed you stretched across his face, and you cooed.

"You're so stinking cute." you complimented him, and he giggled.

"Are you hungry?"

"Starving. I'm so hungry Noona." He whined and you grabbed him by the collar as he moved to flop onto the couch.

"Take your coat off first." You nagged and drug him back to sitting up and get the parka off, then let him flop back onto the cushions. Grabbing the remote from the side table, you turned the TV on and then handed him the device.

"What do you want to eat?"

You. He thought to himself but didn't say it. He was feeling extra needy but wasn't sure how to approach you about it. You had done plenty for him in the past, but that was it. He wasn't pushy, but he wanted to treat you good too. If you weren't ready to go all the way, that was fine…

"You have the ramen I like still?" He finally called out as you entered the kitchen after hanging his coat.

"Yes. Is that really all you want?" You asked, willing to make him something else.

"Yeah." You shrugged to yourself and got to work on it. He really just wanted something fast so you could be done and cuddle him. You ate pretty consistently at the same time when you were at home and had thus eaten a few hours before. As you made his supper, you snacked on some grapes. You had to be careful with how many you ate, fruit was more expensive in Korea than where you were from, so you tried to limit yourself to make it last longer. Once it was done, you went back to the living room to set the table back down you had rested against the wall to clean the floor. He was draped over the couch, one arm dangling off the side and the opposite leg resting on the back of the couch. You huffed a laugh and went back to retrieve the ramen pot. Putting a hot pad down, you then set down the pot and handed him the chopsticks. Going to clean up, he whined out, "where are you going?"

"I have to clean up, it'll take a sec I just have to throw somethings out." You promised and made sure to discard the wrappers and made sure no seasoning powder was on the counter. He whined again when you didn't come straight in, going around the apartment to shut off lights you left on. Once that was all done you finally went to sit with him.

"No, behind me." He scooched forward when you tried to sit at the table with him and tilting your head curiously you do as he requested. Immediately, once you were down, he scooted back and dragged the table with him, placing himself between your legs. You smiled as his head tilted to rest on your left leg and you pet his hair as he did that. He had already managed to eat more than half of the noodles by then and he only continued when you prompted. He wanted to cuddle more than eat but he wasn't going to put your effort to waste. Chenle knew you enjoyed cooking, especially for other people, but he wanted something fast so he could have you sooner. When he was done, you tried to get up to clean up and he gave you a stern, "no," then did it himself. It wasn't that he wasn't helpful, but he got up so quickly. You lowkey didn't trust him to clean it right, you were just that way with everyone, but he knew you pretty well. You were very particular about washing the bottom of the pot just as well as the rest of it and you even used a specific soap for the pots and pans, different than everything else. When Chenle came back in, he went to the lamp and turned it on so he could shut off the bright overhead light. As he came back to the couch to join you, you stood up.

"I'm going to shower so I can change." You told him, not having cleaned everything yet but you could tell he wanted to be with you.

"Wait." He grabbed your hand and pulled you back to him. When you didn't catch his hint, he pulled you again. You landed on his lap with a yelp, and he further manhandled you till you straddled him.

"Lele?" You were slightly shocked by your boyfriend’s forwardness. It didn't bother you, not at all, but it was still surprising. Neither of you could really be considered dominant in the relationship, so to see him being a bit more forceful was…hot. Wrapping his arms around you, you relaxed further onto his lap, and he rested his head on your chest.

"This better?" You smiled, hugging him back and kissing the top of his head.

"Could be even better…" He mumbled and you furrowed your brow. Before you could ask for clarification, he pulled back to look at you. Suddenly, he spread his legs and you fell between them onto your butt with an, "oof." Your legs were still over his so the position was slightly uncomfortable but now you were eye level. Then, your boyfriend was just staring at you intently, looking at each part of your face.

"W-what?"

"You're just pretty." His face softened into a smile, and you scoffed.

"Okay." You conceded and he sneered.

"You are!"

"Okay!" You aren't convinced. Partially, you think there is something else going on too, but…You weren't self-deprecating, you didn't think you were ugly, just average. Nothing to write home about.

"You don't think so?" He pouted and you shrugged.

"Noona!"

"What?"

"You’re so pretty. To me, you are the prettiest girl, that's all that should matter. You're my pretty girl!" He insisted and he wasn't whining or pouting, he sounded a little upset. Like, angry upset. It took you aback. After the shock melted from your face, you smiled genuinely and brought your hands up to stroke his cheeks.

"Thank you, Lele. I can be your pretty girl." You gave him a small kiss and it flared something in him. It wasn't enough. When you pulled back, his arms wrapped around you, and he slammed his mouth back to yours. You gasped at his forcefulness as his hand rested on your back between your shoulders. His other hand went to your butt so he could readjust you on his lap. Back to a more comfortable position, you sighed, and he took advantage of this, his tongue invading your mouth. The hand on your back stayed there, the other one going to the hem of your sweatshirt and slipped under it. He grunted in annoyance pulling away, a trail of saliva connecting you.

"I hate that you wear these high-waisted jeans." He grumbled and you're gaping, face growing hot.

"A-are you okay?" You asked him and he flinched, giving you a wide-eyed stare. He could tell from your tone you were genuinely worried. He was never that forward. Did he take it too far too fast?

"J-just…want you." His voice was quiet, and he buried his face into the nook of your neck, and you relaxed.

"Hmm, I see. You want some help?" You rested your cheek on his head, reaching for the zipper of his pants.

"No! You always do that for me. Want to help my pretty girl." He whined grabbing your wrist quick to stop your hand. You rested back further on his lap and he's looking down to where he grabbed your wrist. Relaxing the grip, he took both your hands in his and stroked the back of your right with his thumb.

"Why do you gotta say it like that?" You huffed, embarrassed.

"Let me show you."

"Show me what?"

"How pretty I think you are. You always take care of me, let me take care of you." He hadn’t whispered per se, but his voice was soft as he leaned back to you, placing a soft kiss on your mouth.

"I-I…"

"If you're not okay with-"

"No! It's just…I don't mind doing stuff for you, I like that I make you feel good, it makes me feel good." You shrugged, not able to look him in the eye. Chenle didn’t say anything, but shifted a bit and before you could get up, your world spun and you're on your back underneath him. Not having any idea, he was that strong, to just toss you like that, you found it incredibly attractive. Once again, you are shocked, seeing how he was looking at you. His gaze is intense, his pupils dilated. His knee wedged between your legs and your breath hitched when his thigh dug in over your covered mound. He held himself up with his left arm, using his right hand to go under your sweatshirt once again, but it didn't go past the top of your pants. Instead, it went lower, his fingers digging into your butt, his elbow bent to lower him back down to you; he kissed you again. He was more aggressive than before. The hand on your ass let him force you to grind on his thigh and you gave him a soft moan, letting him swallow it as his tongue reentered your mouth. It was turning you on way more than was logical. You had made out before, sure, but not like that. When you were about to tap out to breathe, he pulled back and your hands went to rest on his biceps as you caught your breath. His leg grinded against your core and couldn't help but let a sigh out. You knew that just riding his thigh would have been enough, but that would be something to try later. Even though he said he was okay waiting, you suddenly weren't.

"You okay to keep going?" He asked, and you whined out a yes; then he's off you, hauling you up by the arm and practically dragging you to your room. He flipped the light on, the bright ceiling lamp too harsh for the mood. He tapped the light bar behind your computer till it gave off a soft yellow glow so you can turn off the overhead. Gently, he brought you to sit on the bed and he kneeled on the floor in front of you, untying your shoes to take them off. You wanted to protest but when you opened your mouth to, he shot you a look that shut you up. He set your sneakers under your desk and took off your socks, throwing them into the corner vaguely near your laundry basket. He sat up straighter on his knees, kneeling between yours and looked up at you.

"I love you." He whispered, his lips brushing over yours. Your breath hitched and your throat clenched. While you knew how he felt and how you yourself did, it hadn't been said out loud yet.

"I love you too-" His hand shot out, burying in your hair at the back of your head and hauled you into another kiss. Moving to kneel at full height, once again you were eye level, and his hands went back to your sweatshirt. You let him take it off of you, reluctant to break the kiss to get it all the way off. You felt super sexy in your nude plain bra, but also kind of embarrassed. Yes, he had seen you in a swimsuit before, but it was one piece and, well, not your underwear.

"You okay?" He asked and you nodded.

"Y-yes. I just…have never…"

"You haven't?" He was genuinely surprised. He figured with how much you knew and what you even knew about yourself that you had experience.

"I-I've used toys, but I have never been with a guy before. I have done research and read too many fanfictions, so I know myself well…" You shrugged again and the news brought the whole night into a different realm.

"I haven't either." He admitted, but you really already knew. Being an idol there wasn't much time for dating and the only reason you two were going so strong was because you worked for the company and so your schedules didn't conflict. You still got to see each other a lot and you even traveled with him.

"Tell me what to do, what to know. Where are you sensitive, what do you like?" His hand rested on your waist under your bra, rubbing the soft skin with his thumb. As he requested, he leaned back into you, his mouth hovering over your neck. Placing a kiss there, he smiled at the little shiver you let out and he saw goosebumps form on your arms.

"I-I don't get much from my breasts, never have…" You started. Maybe it would be different if he did something, but you never got anything out of it.

"What else?" He was still kissing your neck, just lightly.

"The lighter touches just tickle, if you do it…harder, it will be better." You weren't sure how else to word it. He hummed and went right into it, sucking over your pulse point and you moaned lightly, his teeth brushing over your skin.

"T-try behind my ear." You added and his nose brushed the spot till you turned your head so he could kiss there. You sighed so he knew he did it right. Moving down again, his nose bumped your earring and ran over your throat.

"There-" Your breath hitched, already knowing that was a sensitive spot. To the extent that you suspected though had not yet been tested. Breath play isn't the best thing to do alone or for a first time. Just a slight bit of pressure was enough though because his rough open-mouth kiss to your throat made your hips jump. This shocked both of you, but he didn't react to it outwardly.

"M-My stomach is really sensitive." You continued and at that prompt, he started to undo the button of your jeans so he could access that part of you. Chenle didn't try and take them off, just undid them and pulled the hem down so your belly button is revealed. Even just the brush of his slightly cold fingers on the warm skin of your tummy made you shiver.

"Even just in general, its sensitive, so with…sexual stuff it really is. I get ticklish easier, things hurt easier, I feel temperature easier-" You kind of rambled on, getting more worked up with nerves and excitement. He hummed again and you grew suspicious, knowing he was planning something mischievous based off his tone. He pulled away from your neck and he shoved you, your back hitting the bed and you huffed. Digging his fingers into the waist of your pants, he hauled you closer and smirked before licking a hot path around your belly button and up to your sternum. The sensation almost knocked the wind out of you, and you were pretty sure your panties got ruined right then. The little imp chuckled at your reaction, watching you throw your head back and your fingers dug into his shirt at the shoulders.

"Oh, uh, do you…we need a condom?" He suddenly realized and you shook your head.

"I have an IUD, remember?"

"Uh, right…what- what is that again?"

"It's like a thing they put inside. It helps my really bad cramps, but it’s really a birth control." You explained and he remembered.

"The thing that looks like a T." He drew the letter in the air.

"Yes!" The conversation was much too casual for what had just happened, but his face once again got intense.

"So, I can just cum inside?" He whispered and there was something about how he said it that made your core clench around nothing. The idea obviously turned him on, and you made a note to delve into that later. Once again, he gave you no time to retort and his fingers reburied into your jeans and he pulled them down over your butt, the force making your hips jump up, so you didn't have to. In one more pull, they were off and flying somewhere across the room. It was like time slowed down as you moved to close your legs and cover yourself (you still had underwear on), but he noticed the dark patch on your pink panties. Time sped back up and fast-forwarded till your legs were abruptly held open, then spread, by his hands landing on your inner thighs. You yelped and were again shocked at his strength that he so easily prevented you from moving.

"C-Chenle!"

"You're so wet already." His breath was hot, your thighs twitched as you felt it on your skin.

"I-" You cleared your throat, "I get like that easily…Even with toys I never need lube…" You were a little shy to admit. He knew about your vibrators, having found them when he snooped through your drawers. He had gotten permission before you realized that it was in your nightstand and not hidden under your pillows like usual. You had two in a bag along with the cleaner and their chargers. You had to change the location you kept it after that, not trust him to to keep his mouth shut around the other boys. That was before you two had started dating.

He tossed you a look from between your legs and wondered just how wet you could get. Another smirk spread over his stupidly attractive face, and he stood back up. His hands came to the hem of his own shirt and you watched intently as he took the baggy t-shirt off. He was a skinny thing for sure, but he had more muscle tone than you really, truly realized. As your eyes roamed the expanse of smooth skin just revealed, he took his belt off; his pants immediately fell lower on his hips. His tiny little waist made pants fit weirdly because of his leg length and so a belt was almost always necessary. The waistband of his briefs was revealed from his jeans falling and he turned smug fast. While he wanted to tease you for ogling him, he decided not to and unbuttoned his pants; they fell. Even though you had seen his cock before, buried it in your throat, seeing him before you like that was different. Before you could really appreciate it though, he was back on his knees. His fingers ran over the wet patch of your underwear and your head reeled. Without hesitation he wrapped his arms around your thighs and buried his face into your covered pussy, licking through the fabric, soaking it further. You slammed your palm over your mouth to muffle the near scream you let out. It was one thing to touch yourself or use a vibrator, but having him lick you? Holy crap. Chenle had even done it over your underwear, you weren't sure you could take it bare.

"W-wait, if you do that I need to shower!" You insisted and he scoffed. You shower every night, and he really didn't care about the very slight sweat you worked up cleaning. You always smelled amazing. But you smelled so much better from your arousal than he even anticipated. Even through the fabric of your panties, you tasted amazing too.

"I'm about to make you sweat even more so what's the point?" His shameless declaration flabbergasted you. Your boyfriend ignored your protests and pulled your underwear off so fast you were worried he ripped it. You sat up quickly to look at the the discarded fabric and when you did, he reached around and unhooked your bra. He did it so easily it scared you a bit. Once that was off and you were completely naked, the embarrassment hit you.

"So pretty." He hummed, kissing you. You whined and then he let your mouth go, shoving you gently so you laid back down. His hands spread your legs back open, and your hips jumped hard when his tongue ran from the right above your slit to the bottom of your belly button. At this, his arm wrapped around your right leg, throwing it over his shoulder, and his forearm rested against your hips, holding you down. You were already embarrassingly close to cumming and didn’t know how. So much pent-up tension had hit you like a freight train it seemed.

"Ready?" He didn't wait for your answer however and his tongue buried into you. You gasped so hard you couldn't breathe for a second as the tip swirled your entrance than ran up to flick your clit. You came. He was a bit surprised when he felt your body tense like that, your head slamming back into the mattress, and you keened out a long whine. When the waves stopped you were even wetter than before, and he wanted to get more of your taste so bad. While the orgasm was strong, it hadn't taken much physical effort, so you weren't out of breath, but your legs were shaking a bit. When he noticed, he placed your other leg over his shoulder as well and dove back in. You weren't sure how he got so good at this, and maybe he really wasn't but you were just as inexperienced. The sensation was strange, and you wondered if you sucking him off felt anywhere as good as this. As he ate you out his nose bumped your still sensitive clit. Chenle used his thumbs to spread you out for him and you whined in embarrassment.

"So pretty." He murmured then shoved his tongue as far into you as he could, and it took your breath away. Your next orgasm was coming on fast, and you couldn't get enough air (or brain power) to warn him. With one more kitten lick to your clit, you fell apart again. Right as he was going to dive back in, you waved your hand to get his attention.

"I-I'll be too sensitive for a bit. Use…use your fingers." You told him when you were able to catch your breath and your legs stopped shaking. He was surprised and also proud of himself at that, and he noticed you were even more soaked.

"You're twitching." His voice was rougher than usual, and your eyes rolled back when he traced your hole with his finger.

"P-please." You begged, needing to be filled. Plus, you were used to a toy, but you were not prepared for his cock. As his finger entered you, you slammed your hand over your mouth to cover the moan. Using your own fingers never did much, they were short and not very thick, but even just one of his felt so good. Was it because it was him or your hand kink though? Who knew?

"Fuck, you're tight, sucking me in." He chuckled wiggling the digit.

"C-curl it up." You showed him with his own finger and did what you asked, feeling a rougher patch on the top of your walls.

"There?" He asked when he pressed on it specifically.

"Yes!" You gasped, he could get the right angle you never could, and he pressed it again, rubbing over it as your own fingers dug into the sheets.

"Can I add one?" He asked you moaned a general consenting note, and he did so.

"Oh, god-" You gasped, and he went to town. He loved the way every movement his fingers made caused you to twitch, your core clenching tight. Angling his hand different, he hit something at the end of your cunt and pressed it. Your breath hitched and he furrowed his brow.

"Cervix." You breathed out and he let out an 'oh'. As he fingered you, starting to thrust them some he smirked evilly, and his tongue brushed your clit and this time he could feel your cunt clench around his fingers as you came. He kept going for you to ride it out till you yiped when it got too sensitive. He pulled his fingers out and his face away, standing. Not able to meet his eyes, you held your hand over your mouth, looking away. Shooting a brief glance at him, you gasped in horror at what he showed you. His hand was soaked in your thick juices, and he looked at it in fascination. Meeting your eyes, he brings his fingers to his mouth to clean them off.

"You are going to kill me." You whispered and he laughed loudly at that.

"Can you keep going?" He asked and while you wouldn't mind just taking care of his little problem then going to bed, you needed him inside you now. You knew from your own experience you could hit a point of overstimulation where the pain burned into pleasure, and you could keep going. If he did the cardio part you could manage…probably.

"Yes, just you need to do more of the work." You told him and he nodded with a smile. You weren't out of shape, but he had way more stamina than you in every way.

Spread over the bed just catching your breath, he slipped his arms around you and helped you get higher up on the bed. When he crawled over you, you could only really make out his face from the dull light near your desk. His mouth pressed to yours instantly turning into a tongue war. Your hands met his on the waist band of his underwear and he shed the garment. Not only was he thicker than the toy, he would probably also go quite a bit deeper. Maybe once you were more used to it, he could take you from behind, but your cervix wasn't ready to get bruised.

"Tell me if it hurts too much, okay?" He whispered into your ear, and you nodded, resting a hand on the nape of his neck, and burying the other in his hair. His knee knocked your legs further apart and his hands guided your hips up and he shoved a stray pillow under. When the head of his cock hit your entrance the nervousness and excitement you felt peaked, and you focused on breathing, so you didn't clench around him too tight. It was his first time too and you both weren't sure how long he would last. Chenle let out a small gasp and moan as he started to sink his cock into your pussy and the burn got deeper as he did, making your vision swim. It hurt, sure, but it felt so good too.

"(Y/N), you feel so good." His head was thrown back as he tried to be slow, getting deeper into you inch by inch. Your walls were even tighter around his cock than his fingers, and so hot and so wet. When he finally stopped, filling you completely, you gasped for air. You thought in this position he wouldn't get as deep as he did, and you were in for quite a ride. You knew what he could do already, watching him dance, his hips were strong. His eyes were closed in concentration, eyebrows furrowed, trying not to move.

"S-sorry, just give me- a…a sec." You took steadying breaths, trying not to clench around him.

"I thought your mouth felt good." He groaned in your ear, resting his forehead on your shoulder, stroking your waist with his thumb. Remembering what you told him, he moved his hand from your thigh to your stomach and rubbed the skin under your belly button. You shivered, trying to not let your core clench around his cock too much.

"O-okay, move. Slow. Shallow." You informed him and he shifted to get into a more comfortable position then followed your instructions. He pulled back, not even a full inch, then thrusted slowly back in. A rough whine left your lips and he had to bury his fingers into the sheets to hold back. Chenle gave another shallow thrust, but just a bit faster. The head of his cock hit your cervix already and just that fact was arousing. As he kept making shallow thrusts, the burn sizzled away, and the pleasure washed over you like the tide on a beach. It grew stronger with each thrust, and you couldn't keep your walls from clenching around him. His dick was so much hotter and bigger than your toys, and you could feel his pulse through it.

"I-I need to move more." He warned you and you unwrapped your arms from around his shoulders, gripping the bedding above your head and nodded that he could continue.

"Do what you want, precious." You told him and Chenle groaned, hiking your legs up over and around his waist. His hips snapped, pulling out nearly all the way before slamming back in fully. Your breath left you; you nearly gave yourself whiplash with how hard you threw your head back.

"Fuck, (Y/N), you feel so good." He moaned through his grunts. He definitely learned how to move his hips from dancing and every time he buried his cock into your cunt his pelvis hit your sensitive clit. Black and white spots dotted your vision. Leaning over you, he pulled you into his arms, holding you so close his stomach met yours. When you gasped, and your wet cunt squeezed him tighter than before, he knew that it was the right thing to do. His stomach was pretty hard, with soft skin, the fine defining lines rubbing over your smooth tummy was almost too much. Chenle's thrusts got shallower but no less hard, even starting to lose rhythm.

"Noona, I'm close. I can come inside, right?" He moaned into your ear, his nose brushing at your throat.

"Please." You groaned and angled your hips up a bit more and fucked into you three more times before you felt his hot cum spray against your walls and into your protected womb. It was so hot, and the sensation knocked you over the edge once more and your even tighter passage helped him ride out his orgasm. When both of you were done, you felt like passing out, you were so tired. Reluctantly, he pulled away from you and out. You slipped in and out full awareness, but you felt him get off the bed and then come back. He had gotten a warm washcloth and helped clean you both off before he put his underwear back on and grabbed a pair of yours as well as a tank top. Sleepily, you let him help you get dressed and he shut the desk light off before joining you in bed and you immediately curled into him.

"Should you let your mom know you are staying the night here?" You mumbled and he groaned in realization. Your boyfriend ripped himself from you and went to get his phone. As you drifted to sleep you heard him at the door talking to his mother on the phone.

"Yeah, I ate. I'll come tomorrow afternoon. Huh? Yeah, I told her. She loves me too."

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