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#as long as it wouldn’t get you in trouble
dilemmaontwolegs · 2 days
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Not A Verstappen: Away We Go {1}
Pairing: Charles Leclerc x fem!driver!reader x Lando Norris Summary: Autumn has been introduced to the world but there’s something more special for a first appearance: Monaco GP Warnings: 18+ only, nsfw, angst, fluff WC: 3.7k F1 Masterlist NAV: Sibling Rivalry || One || Two || Three NAV: Gridlocked || One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven || Eight || Nine NAV: A New World || One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven || Eight || Nine || Ten NAV: Lights Out || One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || 6.5 || Seven || SMAU || Eight || Nine NAV: Away We Go || One || Two
The white noise in the nursery threatened to put you to sleep too but there were still dozens of messages to get through. There had been a constant stream of well wishes to your inbox since the announcement to the world but one had been left on read for three days now and a little rage built each time you reread it.
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It didn’t take long for new ‘exclusive’ information to pop up in the gossip pages, along with the photo you had taken and sent to Jos. It wasn’t a surprise at all, but it still hurt to read what he had said. Trusted sources close to Y/N say she is being monitored for Post Natal Depression and Psychosis, as it is no secret she has had trouble with mental health in the past.
“You are lucky, my love,” you whispered to your daughter who slept soundly in your arms. “Your fathers love you so much.”
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You carefully stood up from the rocking chair beside her cot but the moment you started to lower her to the mattress she began to stir.
“Already a little arm princess, aren’t you?” you chuckled, settling back into the chair to start rocking again.
You didn’t mind getting these rare moments alone with her, even if you were exhausted from waking up to breastfeed her all through the night. As soon as Charles and Lando finished their Zoom Meetings with their teams they would be stealing her away for their own snuggles. It was safe to say everyone was smitten with her. And that wasn’t an exaggeration. The front door barely closed before another visitor came, and Max had taken up permanent residence on the couch when he wasn’t needed elsewhere.
“Is she sleeping?” P whispered loudly as she stuck her head in the door.
“She is, but you can come in.”
Max trailed in after her having let himself in the apartment with his spare key. Your mother was out grocery shopping again so she could do more baking for the visitors of the day. You had told her she didn’t need to but she was enjoying the company and feeding a small army.
“Have you eaten?” Max asked as he knelt down beside P who gently stroked the blanket Autumn was swaddled in.
“You’re as bad as my mother.”
“I’m just checking. Kel said everyone comes to see the baby but no one asks how the mum is doing. I want to make sure my sister is okay too.”
“Now you’ve done it,” you croaked as you started to cry. “I’m over these damn hormones. I was fine until you arrived.”
Max laughed and rocked side to side. “You’ll get over it. Should we go to the living room or do you like sitting in the dark?”
You accepted his hand and let him pull you to your feet since he had long ago mastered the art of carrying a baby one-handed. “You’re going to have your hands full when Vicki drops.”
“I have two arms. Unless you're planning on having another one right away?”
“Max, I love you, but I will punch you if you ask that again. I am still having to sit on ice pads because no one warned me about the goddamn haemorrhoids-”
“Okay, okay, fuck, stop!” he begged with a disgusted look on his screwed up face. 
Satisfied he wouldn’t make the same mistake again, you went to the kitchen and grabbed two bottles of water and a juice box for Penelope. 
“So Toto still hasn’t confirmed anyone for Lewis’ seat next year,” you said, passing him one bottle before taking a seat with P. 
“You’ve been talking to him?”
“And others,” you admitted. A few more of the Team Principals had sent their congratulations and the ones with empty seats for 2025 expressed an interest, asking what your plans were. “As soon as my six week check up gets signed off Kristian is going to become my worst nightmare again.”
“Do your boyfriends know that’s your plan?”
You shrugged. It had been spoken about before Autumn was born but they all thought having her in your arms would change your mind about returning to racing. None of the other parents on the grid gave up their careers to grow their families, and while there were still empty seats in the teams you were going to shoot your shot until every last one was taken. 
“Never let them know your next move,” you joked before sobering up and sighing. “Working mums are normal in every other business. Plus, I’m only talking about sim racing this year and if I can impress someone with the data then we can go from there.”
Max nodded along as his eyes traced over Autumn’s features, finding Charles’ dimples when her lips pursed with a soft whimper in her sleep. Penelope had finished her drink and turned all her attention to your daughter, giggling whenever Autumn sucked on her own lip.
“Can I have a baby sister?” she asked Max with bright, hopeful eyes.
“Maybe one day, P. You would make a great big sister.” She grinned at the compliment and snuggled closer until she was half on Max’s lap and holding Autumn too.
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Monaco GP
“Ma fifille, tellement belle,” Charles gushed as Lando stepped out of the nursery with Autumn in his arms. She smelt sweet from the baby oil that hydrated her skin and fresh since Lando had changed her diaper before finding the prettiest dress in her closet for her first paddock entrance.
“I’m surprised he didn’t try to sneak her into McLaren gear,” you commented as you packed the baby bag with extra supplies for the day. Gone were the days of arriving at the paddock with just your phone, now there were a million things to remember since no one wanted to try to return home with the insane traffic that came with the road closures for the Monaco race.
“I hid them all,” Charles confessed with a sly smile before stealing a kiss from Lando’s pouting lips. “If she can’t wear Ferrari then she definitely isn’t wearing McLaren, mon cher.”
“One day when you are at Maranello…” Lando warned with a wink.
“You can finish this squabble later, we have a whole camera crew waiting outside.” The tone wasn’t quite as light as you hoped and it drew the attention of both of them straight to you. The joking smiles fell and Lando lay Autumn in her stroller and clipped in the buckles with a frown. “Don’t look at me like that, I’m fine.”
“You only gave birth four weeks ago, love, it’s okay if you’re not ready to go to the track yet.”
“We wouldn’t be upset if you watched from here,” Charles added.
“It’s Monaco and I am fine, just a little nervous.” Your blasé shrug didn’t fool either of them.
“Of what?”
Charles took over rocking the stroller back and forth so Lando could pull you into his arms. The warmth and security of his embrace was always enough to spill whatever was on your mind.
“The crowd, the cameras, your fans - take your pick.” You looked down at your clothes. They weren’t the designer dresses the other women would wear to the paddock but the maternity jeans and breastfeeding friendly shirt were tidy enough. You couldn’t help noticing the pouch where your belly sagged like a deflated balloon.
“Hey,” Lando murmured, catching your chin with his finger and guiding your head back up to face him. “Do we need to remind you how beautiful we think you are? I don’t mind being late. Charles?”
“I am more than happy to take a penalty.”
You chuckled at the enthusiasm but shook your head. “I would love nothing more than to drag you both back to the bedroom but save it for the six week sign off, you horny devils.”
“We can still show you how sexy we find you without fucking you,” Lando whispered in your ear and Charles’ eyes darkened at the little catch in your breathing.
“Don’t tempt me, but there’s still the problem of the camera crew outside and you’d be on your own explaining to them why we were late.”
“Mon amour, that is the man who asked Stroll if he could wank after breaking his wrists. Would you really trust him with that task?”
“I mean…I would find it funny. Zak might blow a gasket though,” you admitted with a grin. Feeling a bit more at ease after a laugh, you stepped out of Lando’s arms and took a steadying breath. “I’m going to grab a hoodie and we can go.”
Neither commented as you hid your body in an oversized Quadrant hoodie despite the summer heat but you barely made it halfway down the street before you asked Charles if you could push the stroller. There were too many people and too many screams for autographs that your heart started to beat erratically and your breath burned in your lungs.
“Are you okay?” Charles asked, ignoring the people beyond the security team that surrounded your group.
“Let her push, Charles,” Lando urged as he saw a sight he was familiar with in the mirror. It was rare for him in recent years now that he had you and Charles but he could remember the feeling of being out of control and the panic that came with it.
You grabbed the handlebar of the stroller and held on with a death grip in case someone broke through the security guards and knocked into it. Your knuckles changed colour from how tight you handled it and your legs pumped faster with the urge to get to the track and inside the walls of a team hospitality.
From the corner of your eye a shadow slipped through the bodies and your elbow flew out as your mind went straight to the worst case scenario. Was it an overzealous fan wanting a picture or a fanatic wanting to hurt your family?
“Ow, zusje, what the fuck?” Max asked as he rubbed at his ribs.
“Jesus Christ, Max, what are you doing? Don’t jump out at me like that.”
“She’s a little on edge right now,” Charles said quietly, acutely aware of all the cameras pointed their way.
“I can see that. Is it the crowd? Do you want me to call in reinforcements?”
Charles shook his head and walked quicker to catch back up to you. “We would probably be there by the time anyone came.”
Lactic acid burned your calves and reminded you just how hard you were going to have to work to get back to your pre-baby fitness but it felt good too. It brought you back to yourself in a way you had forgotten since becoming a mother and the endorphins from the exercise began to relax your body and mind.
Your pace began to slow and Lando smiled proudly like you had won a world championship. “Now can I hold your hand, love?”
You shifted your hold to the centre of the handlebar so you could still navigate the stroller and placed your hand in his. “Thank you,” you murmured as he kissed your knuckles.
“I would tell you not to worry but I don’t think it will make a difference,” he replied between waving to his fans.
“Aren’t you worried? There’s so many things that could go wrong.”
Lando stopped and turned with a serious look on his face that was only softened by the untamed curl that fell over his brow. “Of course I’m worried too, babe, this is our family and Autumn is the most precious part of it. But, I have to trust that we have done enough to protect her and you and Charles,” he said with a wave towards the security guards. “Do you remember how nervous you were before your first race? You could barely keep your food down and Pierre thought you were actually going to pass out during the Anthem.”
You rolled your eyes but a small smile leaked through. “Don’t remind me.”
“I would have caught you.”
“You were six inches shorter than me.”
Lando stood straighter and looked down at you. “That’s beside the point, I’ve more than made up for it now.”
“Yes, you have,” you said with a wink. “Much more than six inches.”
Charles interrupted the appreciative gaze you dragged over your boyfriend’s body. “Will you two please behave?”
A devilish smirk grew on Lando’s face. “Never, but I will go and sign some autographs before I get in more trouble.”
“Is it me or is he even more cocky?”
“Winning does that to a guy.”
Charles scoffed and curled an arm around your waist. “I will have to remind him what second place feels like, it’s my turn to win Monaco.”
Max laughed, reminding you that he was still there as you approached the paddock gates. “Half the grid thinks the same thing.”
“Well they have a chance with you starting P2,” you teased your brother before grinning at Charles who took pole position. “Take that chequered flag.”
You scanned your ID and the pass for Autumn too as everyone else did and clustered together on the other side again.
“Where are you going to be watching from?” Max asked as you approached his hospitality first.
“Homeboys box, but Toto wants a word so I’ll take bub there first.”
Max looked like he wanted to say something but his name was called out from his team waiting by the dark blue entrance. Instead he stepped forward and kissed your cheek before kissing Autumn’s and tickling her toes. “Tot zeins, mooi meisje.”
“She’s going to speak Dutch before me at this rate,” you complained as he walked away, still not knowing what he said to her.
“Learn quicker then.”
You threw him the middle finger that made him laugh before he disappeared and then it was your turn to say goodbye. Mercedes was the next garage followed by Ferrari then McLaren.
“We will see you before the race,” you promised as you unbuckled Autumn from her stroller and held her to your chest. The garages were tight enough as it was without trying to fit the pram inside too. “Say bye-bye daddy,” you said with a wave of Autumn’s little hand as she woke from her nap. “Love you.”
Charles and Lando both kissed her cheeks and said their goodbye before you received your own chaste kiss on the lips. “Call us if you need anything, I will keep my phone with me,” Charles promised before stepping away.
“Same, and these guys are going with you too,” Lando said with a nod to the security shadowing your sides. Your entourage joined you in Mercedes but thankfully took a wider perimeter since there was a fairly strict policy in who could enter the garages. Toto didn’t seem to mind the additions since you came bearing a pretty great gift.
“You are a beautiful time waster,” he said sweetly as he cradled Autumn to his chest. “I have work to do, little lady, yes, I do, but I’m not ready to hand you over, no, I am not.”
“I get the feeling that Jack will be getting a sibling soon enough,” you said to Lewis who swung back and forth on his chair with his headphones half on his head.
“I don’t think it’s Toto that needs convincing,” he said with a laugh. “It’s not his career that goes on hold, you know that.”
“I never would have said it before, but she’s worth it,” you admitted. “Still not sold on doing it again though, got one more championship to win.”
“I know that feeling,” he said wistfully. “Charles had better bring her to Maranello too.”
“I don’t think much work would get done if she was there,” you pointed out. “And like you said, you have a championship to win.”
Autumn suddenly decided that she was starving and started to cry as she nuzzled into Toto’s shirt and you laughed as you got up to retrieve her. “Sorry, bub, there’s no milk in those titties,” you teased as you picked her up. “Is there somewhere I can feed her?”
Toto looked around and shrugged. “Wherever you’re comfortable. There’s rooms down the hall if you want.”
“I’ve learned it’s not about my own comfort.”
“If anyone’s got a problem they are free to leave,” he said loud enough for everyone to hear and return to their work.
You took your seat again beside Lewis and unzipped the discrete opening on your shirt before unclipping the small window on your bra.
“Come on, man, she’s just trying to feed her baby. Get those cameras out of here,” Lewis said as he blocked the lens and started to herd the Netflix crew back out of the garage.
It had taken a week of trial and error before mastering the art of latching but now you had a routine and Autumn quickly fell back to sleep despite trying to keep her awake. Lando had joked he would sleep better if that was his routine too, at least you thought he was joking.
“Can you hold her please?”
Lewis didn’t need to be asked, he had been patiently waiting his turn since you walked in the garage. He even knew to draw soothing circles and pat her back to bring up her wind. “There’s those famous Uncle skills you bragged about.”
“Told you, I’m just down the road if you guys want a babysitter for date night.”
“I might take you up on that in a few weeks.” You looked over to Toto who was speaking to Bono and jutted your chin his way. “Has he mentioned anything about who’s in line for your seat?”
“Nothing set in stone, just lots of talk - or at least that’s what he told me.”
“Fair enough, you’re the enemy now,” you teased.
“Netflix is going to love this season. Did you see Nando re-signed?”
“Mhmm, I sent him a pot plant and instructions to wipe the floor with Lance. I think he’s taken it on board.” Fernando already had nearly four times as many points in the driver championship so far and you expected that to increase after the race.
“There’s rumours Lance is going to WEC next year, maybe there'll be another seat opening.”
“Fuck that,” you scoffed. “If I get a seat it’s going to be with a team that has some sense of loyalty. I’m sick of being dropped like a hot potato the second anything goes wrong. I’m desperate, but not that desperate.”
Lewis was about to be called for the driver parade and you realised just how quickly time had passed. “I should let you finish your rituals, we still have a few stops to make before the race.”
He handed Autumn back and gave you a hug. “Don’t lose that glow stressing about getting a seat, mama, enjoy your time with this little beauty. Che sarà, sarà.”
“Practising Italian already, huh?” you teased as you buckled Autumn into the stroller where she promptly fell asleep after the movement disturbed her. “I will keep your wise words in mind.”
The paddock was quieter as you made your way down the line of garages. Most guests would already be in the viewing spaces above the pit lane to watch the drivers parade so there weren’t many people for security to part.
“Ma’am,” the head guard called as he stood in front of an imposing suited figure. “He wants a word.”
You nodded your head and he moved to let the man through. “I’m kind of running late, Lawrence.”
“I just want to say congratulations,” your old boss said as he looked into the stroller and removed his sunglasses. “She’s very cute, you must be proud.”
“You could have sent a text message.”
Lawrence sighed at the frosty tone. “In hindsight things may have been handled a little callously but you should understand it was for your own good. This isn’t an office job that can be worked while pregnant, it would have been irresponsible as an employer.”
“I understand that, it was the fact you fired me without even talking to me first - I had to find out through the tabloids - and before that the way you let your son get away with treating his team is actually despicable.”
Lawrence pulled a white handkerchief from his breast pocket and cleaned his glasses as he stared off into the distance. “You’re not wrong, but we are working on his attitude and behaviour - discreetly.”
You raised an eyebrow but he wasn’t going to share anything further, instead he took one last look at Autumn and put the aviators back on his nose. Maybe there was some weight behind the rumours.
“Hopefully we’ll see you back on the grid at some point. You were one hell of a racer.”
“Am, Mr Stroll,” you corrected as you turned the brake off the pram. “I am one hell of a racer.”
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stxrslut · 3 days
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what would each of the boys do if they were having trouble getting you out of subspace?
oh I love this one actually!!
rafe wouldn’t be expecting it, normally all it takes to bring you out is a bit of rocking in his arms and some reassurance. so when he’s been doing that for nearly twenty minutes he starts to get concerned “you with me baby?” he cranes his neck down to look at you with furrowed eyebrows. all you can do is murmur out a little ‘daddy’ before trying to burrow into his chest again.
he would get you up and take you into the bath, something he normally waits until the morning after to do. he’d just do his best to coax you out, feeling a bit helpless as you paw at him and try desperately to get more. he’d just gently correct your words and actions, knowing that if he were to be rough with you it would just make you worse.
eventually he gets you out, rubbing you back as you murmur sleepily “don’t do that again— was fuckin’ scarin’ me.” he would chastise gently before letting you fall asleep.
john b would know exactly what to do, it’s not his first rodeo. he knows you’re in pretty deep, just by the way you’re holding yourself. he picks you up and rocks you as he carries you into the living room, he does this to get you into a setting that’s less intimate then the bedroom, so as to make it easier to come out of it.
he puts on a show and grabs some snacks, all while still holding you and soothing you. he’d ask you small questions to try and get you more engaged. maybe pointing out the different fruit there is in the fridge and saying a little “you want the strawberries? no? or the apple?” you’d just rub your eyes and point to the fruit of your choosing “that one daddy,” you murmur and he clicks his tongue, “uh uh— not daddy anymore sweetie, just johnbee. can you say that?” and all you do is shake your head because you don’t want to :(
he definitely does his best to hold a conversation with you to try and get you thinking, and he repeatedly verbalises what he’s doing and why he’s doing it. “just wanna go sleep daddy,” you whine, and he just rubs your back and kisses your forehead, “can’t go to sleep all subby like this baby, s’not good for you.”
lots of kisses and praise when you do come out of it <3 cause he knows you didn’t want to. “good job baby, ‘m proud of you.”
jj would be surprised at first, you barely ever go into subspace with him, and even when you do it’s pretty easy to get out of it.
I feel like it would take him a few minutes to notice, when he does he just assumes it’s like other instances and comes over to hold you, “hey— sorry baby, m’right here. you think you can come back to me?” he starts to worry a bit when it’s been a while and you’re still not coming back to him.
“sweetie,” he’d sigh, just cradling you against his chest and holding you tight to stop you from getting handsy. “you’ve had enough now, you need to use that big girl head for me again please.”
it takes him a long time to get you out, he doesn’t really know of anything to do apart from a lot of coaxing. when he does you’re both exhausted but he forces you to get up and have a shower just to make sure your head is clear before bed.
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huggingkoalas · 2 days
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is this hatred? or love? part 1
pairings natasha romanoff x fem!reader
synopsis what happens when you have to share a bed with your enemy?
word count 2.9k
warnings fluff, teasing, gunshot wound, reader’s injured, pet names (sweetheart, love), one bed trope, enemies to lovers, they’re both so in denial it makes me want to bang my head against the wall
author’s note haven’t had the time to write in a long time. i honestly had a lot of fun writing this, natasha being the most annoying fucking tease is the biggest headcannon to me <3
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“Need a hand, dorogaya (sweetheart)?”
“Shut up, Romanoff.”
“If you say so.”
With your dominant hand pressed firmly against your wounded abdomen to stem the bleeding, your other hand trembled as it swiped the card through the reader. Natasha leaned her back casually against the adjacent wall, her boredom thinly veiled by a feigned yawn as the reader emitted its third ‘beep’ of rejection due to your insufficient force.
“We’ll be here all day. Aren’t you supposed to have super soldier serum in your blood?” 
“I said shut up.”
With an exasperated scoff, Natasha snatched the card out of your hand. She forcefully swiped it through the reader, the satisfying click of the door unlocking echoing in the corridor. As the door swung open to reveal the dimly lit motel room, Natasha couldn’t help but grin smugly.
“See? Easy as pie.”
You grunted in response, carefully adjusting your stance to maintain pressure on your wound. “Thanks.”
“Don’t mention it, love.” She replied breezily. 
With a nod of appreciation, you stepped through the doorway, a wave of relief washing over you, although the throbbing pain in your abdomen dampened it. Natasha followed suit, closing the door behind her and locking it. She walked past you, her demeanour shifting subtly from teasing to attentive as she scanned the room. Once she familiarised herself with the layout and window exits, she turned back to you, nodding her head to give you the all-clear.
The room looked ordinary like any other hostel room, with neutral-toned walls and simple furnishings. A small table sat in one corner, adorned with a lamp and a few scattered brochures. Across the room, a worn-out armchair stood next to a narrow window, its curtains drawn shut to block the dim city lights. On the opposite wall, a modest dresser provided limited storage space, its drawers slightly ajar. Despite its lack of luxury, the room emanated a sense of comfort. As you looked around the unremarkable surroundings, you couldn’t help but feel a twinge of gratitude for the simple shelter it provided.
While you were busy surveying the room, Natasha’s attention was on your injured abdomen, a subtle flash of concern in her eyes. The sight of the fresh blood staining your shirt in the brief moments it took to open the door tugged at her heartstrings, even if she would never admit it to you.
“How bad is the wound?” She inquired, pointing a finger towards your abdomen.
You glanced down, noting the slight redness seeping through the fabric and onto your shirt. “Well, I wouldn’t have this wound if someone realised that a HYDRA agent was aiming at them.” You retorted.
Natasha smirked, a glint of amusement dancing in her eyes. “Hey, it’s not my fault they can’t resist taking a shot at me, I’m irresistible.”
You couldn’t help but chuckle despite the ache in your side. “Irresistible, huh? That’s one way to put it.”
“Of course.” She shrugged casually, giving you a knowing look. “I honestly think we both attract trouble wherever we go. It's probably the only reason Fury paired the two of the biggest troublemakers on this mission, right? He’s probably having the best day of his life without having to deal with us constantly being at each other’s throats.”
You smirked, acknowledging the truth in her words. “Seems like Fury knows what he’s doing after all.”
 “Well, I’d like to think he’s getting some entertainment out of it.”
You rolled your eyes playfully. "Entertainment? More like a headache.”
Her smirk softened into a faint smile as she shook her head. “Just because you saved me doesn’t mean that I don’t hate you still.”
“Likewise, Romanoff. Just because we’re being all buddy-buddy right now doesn’t mean I suddenly like you.”
Natasha raised an eyebrow, a playful glint in her eyes. “Good. Wouldn’t want things to get too sentimental, partner.”
You knew that the word ‘partner’ was dripping with teasing and sarcasm. The two of you were anything but cooperative with each other. You both frequently exchanged biting remarks, teasing, and insults. You couldn’t help but wonder what you had done to make her despise you so much. You were nice to her when you joined the Avengers all those years ago, but it always seemed that she harboured a deep dislike for you. When you spoke up in a team meeting, she would scowl and you could always feel her gaze burning a hole in your skull.
In the beginning, you tried to get along with her and be as friendly to her as you were to everyone else. From offering her assistance during training or helping her with her mission reports, nothing you did ever seemed to break the coldness and distance in her heart. You knew she wasn’t the most extroverted person, but you never saw her act that way towards others. Eventually, you gave up and decided it was best to ignore her, just as she had ignored you. 
Of course, once you started ignoring her too, Natasha’s behaviour changed. She started teasing and taunting you, finding ways to provoke a reaction from you even when you tried to ignore her. And she kept winning. Her incessant teasing had a way of getting under your skin. It was a frustrating cycle of provocation and reaction. You felt like you were constantly on edge whenever she was around. 
But reluctantly, you couldn’t deny that everything had changed during the mission an hour ago. Despite the heated tensions, you both had an unspoken agreement to watch each other’s backs in battle.
As the weight of the moment settled on you, Natasha’s gaze softened, and her concern for your well-being was evident in the depths of her eyes. “But seriously,” she said, her tone changing to genuine concern, “let me help you tend to that wound before it gets infected.”
You shook your head slightly. “It’s okay, I can take care of it myself.”
Her expression tightened slightly, her concern unwavering. “Stubborn as always,” she muttered under her breath.
You met her gaze with a steely resolve. “I appreciate the offer, but I’ve handled worse.”
Her lips formed a thin line, showing her frustration. "Think of it as a way of repaying you for helping me.” She insisted, her voice firm.
You knew she wouldn’t give the matter up. The both of you were equally as stubborn as a mule. “Fine.” You relented, offering a nod. 
“Great,” Natasha replied, a hint of relief in her tone. “To the bathroom then. I’m sure this motel room has a first aid kit somewhere…”
You and Natasha made your way to the bathroom, her footsteps echoing yours. Silently, you took a seat on the edge of the closed toilet seat. You leaned back against the toilet’s tank, the cool porcelain surface offering a brief respite from the tension in your muscles. She wasted no time in retrieving the first aid kit from the mirror cabinet and moving towards you. 
“Take off your shirt,” She instructed, settling the first aid kit on the tiled floor.
Your brows furrowed in surprise at her directive. “W-What?” You stammered, looking down at her with an incredulous look.
Natasha rolled her eyes at your surprise, her patience wearing thin. “Come on, don’t make this more difficult than it needs to be,” she chided, her tone tinged with exasperation. “I can’t clean your wound if you have your shirt on.”
Reluctantly, you began to peel off your shirt cautiously. Each inch revealed the angry red gunshot wound beneath, eliciting a whine as the fabric grazed against your wound. At least you were lucky that the bullet passed through instead of staying inside your body. As more of your skin came into view, Natasha’s eyes widened, her breath catching in her throat. A blush crept onto her cheeks, betraying her normally composed demeanour. Despite her best efforts to maintain her composure, the sight of your exposed skin stirred something within her, igniting a warmth that she couldn’t quite suppress. Quickly, she averted her gaze, busying herself with preparing the first aid supplies. Though she tried to hide it, the flush on her cheeks lingered.
As you finally removed your shirt, Natasha’s expression softened even further. “Thank you for sacrificing yourself for me. It was incredibly stupid, though.” She murmured, her voice softer now.
“It’s alright, Romanoff.”
“You can call me Natasha, you know. You’re the only one in the team that still calls me by my last name.”
“Alright, Natasha.” Your lips twitched into a small, appreciative smile. 
In a comfortable silence, Natasha began to carefully clean the wound with a cotton ball soaked in rubbing alcohol, her touch gentle yet precise. The warmth of her fingertips against your skin sent a shiver down your spine. As she worked, you couldn’t help but steal glances at her, admiring the focused expression on her face.
Natasha’s brows furrowed as she delicately dabbed at the wound, her lips forming a thin line. Now and then, she would scrunch her nose up, a small, endearing gesture that softened her usual stoic expression. Despite the pain, a smile tugged at the corners of your lips at the sight of her.
Once the wound was cleaned and dressed, her gaze met yours with a sense of satisfaction. “There,” she said softly, relief in her voice. “All done.”
You offered her a grateful smile, “Thank you.”
A small, genuine smile curved Natasha’s lips as she met your gaze. “Anytime, dorogaya (sweetheart).”
As she rose to her feet, a blush crept onto your cheeks. You were well-acquainted with Natasha’s tendency to use nicknames on you, especially ‘dorogaya’, but it was typically wielded with a teasing edge. This time, however, it wasn’t accompanied by the usual teasing tone. Instead, it carried a genuine warmth that caught you off guard.
“Uh…” You stammered, feeling a warmth spreading through your chest at the unexpectedly sincere endearment. Clearing your throat, you tried to push aside the fluttering in your chest.
Her smile widened at your reaction. “Nervous, are we?”
“Shut up, Natasha.” 
She chuckled softly at your retort, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “I’ll take that as a yes,” she teased, her tone light and playful.
You couldn’t help but roll your eyes, a small smile playing at the corners of your lips despite the warmth still lingering in your cheeks. “You’re impossible,” you muttered, though there was no real bite to your words.
With a shake of her head, Natasha reached down to offer you a hand. “Come on, let’s get you back on your feet,” she said.
You hesitated for a moment, touched by her gesture, before placing your hand in hers. With a steady grip, she helped you to your feet. She moved to the doorway before looking at you over her shoulder. “I’ll let you shower first. Try not to get water on the dressing.”
“Got it.”
With a final nod of acknowledgement, Natasha closed the door behind her, leaving you alone in the quiet of the bathroom. Taking a moment to collect your thoughts, you slipped off the rest of your clothes and placed them in a pile with your soiled shirt. A sense of relief washed over you at the prospect of washing away the grime of the day’s events. You turned on the water, allowing the warm cascade to envelop you as you stepped beneath the stream. Despite the lingering ache in your abdomen, the sensation of the water against your skin was soothing, easing the aching tension that had settled in your muscles.
As you stood beneath the spray, you couldn’t help but reflect on the events that led to this moment. Fury had sent you and Natasha on what was supposed to be a routine mission, but as these things often went, it spiralled into chaos. The intel given was faulty, the security stronger than anticipated, and you were in over your heads before you knew it. It was a mission gone wrong, one of those rare instances where even the most meticulous planning couldn’t prevent disaster.
In the aftermath of the debacle, with your injuries sustained and the mission being held in another country, there was no choice but to seek refuge in a motel room for a night before a Quinjet could transport you back to the Avengers Compound. Fury had booked a motel room for you and Natasha, a nondescript haven tucked away from prying eyes. It was a humble accommodation, far removed from the luxuries of the Compound, but at least it provided a temporary sanctuary where you could tend to your wounds without drawing unwanted attention.
As you stood beneath the shower’s warm spray, the mission’s events were still fresh and raw as they replayed in your mind like a relentless loop. The close calls, the split-second decisions, the adrenaline-fueled rush of combat. And yet, despite the chaos and uncertainty, one thing remained constant — Natasha fighting with you side-by-side.
You couldn’t help but marvel at Natasha’s resilience. Her determination even in the face of overwhelming odds. She had saved your life more times than you could count, her skills as an assassin matched only by her unwavering loyalty to S.H.I.E.L.D. 
However, this time was different. During the mission, the roles had been reversed. In a moment of instinct, you had thrown yourself between Natasha and the gun aimed in her direction, putting your own life on the line to protect hers. The only reason you could think of for making a reckless decision like that was that simple —  you couldn’t bear the thought of losing Natasha, even if you hated her with your whole heart. There was no hesitation as you acted on pure instinct, driven by a need to protect her.
As the warm water washed away the physical remnants of the mission, you emerged from the shower. Wrapping a towel around yourself, you stepped out of the bathroom, feeling a sense of relief wash over you as the steam-filled air gave way to the coolness of the room. 
Immediately, your gaze was drawn to Natasha, who sat on the edge of the bed, her expression a mix of surprise as she took in your appearance. You couldn’t help but feel a flutter of nerves at the intensity of her gaze, prompting you to tighten the towel around yourself in a subconscious attempt to shield your modesty.
Finally, Natasha broke the silence. “Sorry for staring. I.. uh-” She faltered for a moment, her words trailing off as she cleared her throat, seemingly struggling to find the right thing to say. “We have a problem. There’s only one bed.” 
Her words caught you off guard, and for a moment, you were at a loss for how to respond. You looked down at the singular bed Natasha was sitting on. You couldn’t help but feel a flush of embarrassment colour your cheeks. The prospect of sharing a bed with Natasha added a whole new layer of complexity to your already complicated relationship with her.
“I’ll sleep on the floor,” Natasha suggested, standing up.
You felt a pang of guilt wash over you. You couldn’t shake the feeling that it wouldn’t be fair for her to sacrifice her comfort for your sake.
“Don’t be ridiculous.” You interjected quickly. “You take the bed, I’ll sleep on the floor instead.”
Natasha crossed her arms, regarding you with a raised eyebrow. “I’m not being ridiculous. You’re the one that’s injured, you should get the bed instead.”
You shook your head. “I appreciate the concern but I really can’t let you sleep on the floor. We’re both equally exhausted from the mission and besides, you need a good night’s rest too.”
Natasha’s expression softened, her gaze meeting yours with a mixture of gratitude and stubbornness. “I can’t let you sleep on the floor either,” she countered, her voice firm.
You sighed, realizing that neither of you would easily back down from this standoff. “Alright, how about this,” you proposed. “We share the bed. It’s really small, so we’ll have to sleep pressed up against each other, but at least neither of us has to sleep uncomfortably.”
Natasha hesitated for a moment, considering your offer. “Are you sure?” she asked, her tone softening with concern.
“I’m sure.” You nodded, offering her a reassuring smile. “Go take a shower. You smell.”
She chuckled softly at your attempt to lighten the mood. “Yes ma’am.”
As Natasha disappeared into the bathroom, you took a moment to collect your thoughts, relieved that the tension between you had dissipated, at least for now. Sharing a bed with her was certainly going to be an… interesting experience.
You reached for the bag you had dropped near the doorway and pulled out a fresh set of clothes. Quickly, you dressed yourself. As you settled into bed, you heard the door open as Natasha emerged from the bathroom. You were facing away from her as you felt the bed dip behind you when she got into bed. Feeling her presence behind you, you turned your head to offer her a small smile. 
“Can I… wrap my arm around you? It’s the only way we’ll both fit in this bed.” Natasha remarked, her voice laced with a hint of embarrassment. 
You chuckled softly, feeling the tension easing further as you nodded in agreement. “Sure, yeah, go ahead.”
As Natasha shifted closer, her front pressed up against your back and her arm gently encircling your waist, you couldn’t help but feel the butterflies in your stomach at the sudden intimacy. Despite the awkwardness, there was a surprising comfort in the warmth of her touch, and you found yourself relaxing further in her embrace.
“Goodnight, Y/N.” Natasha murmured, her breath warm against your ear.
“Goodnight, Natasha.” You replied, a sense of contentment settling over you as you closed your eyes.
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Idk if you remember but you wrote a small drabble where reader was konigs secret admirer and it's been eating at my brain ever since😭 would you ever consider making it an actual story?
Oh I fell in love with the concept too! Here's a part 2 to that little drabble, I humbly offer it to you with my fluffy little paws ^^
CW: 18+ smut, fluff. Nothing bad here, just sweetness. Ok maybe a tiny bit of biting and light angst because it’s König after all... (Part 1 here)
He still doesn’t know who the mystery girl is.
She likes to tease him with cute messages and a photo of her tits but won’t tell him her name or where she lives. The girl won’t come to meet him so that he can show her some love, nor will she agree to go on a date with him. She just responds to his pathetic suggestions with a bundle of emojis that are about to drive him crazy, and another message that says: “Soon!” 
König has to fall back on the bed and go to sleep with a rock hard dick and a set of twitching, lonely hands. His dream of having a proper girlfriend was shoved on the back burner ever since he joined the Jagdkommando, but now there’s a certain girl inside his head, a new, even better dream he can’t repel. The next day is no better; he even forgets what he was supposed to bring home from the store, knowing his mom will only sigh and tell him they’ll survive without some ingredient they both know is very well essential.
He stands before the butters and spreads, trying to recall what his mother wanted when he hears a soft gasp further down the aisle. He turns his head and barely catches the sight of a woman, turning in her heels and rushing down the flour section, just somewhere out of sight.
Hope and curiosity spark inside him as he leaves the butter and darts after her, calling “Hey” and “Wait” between the shelves as she flits towards the cashier in mild terror. He chases her as if he were trying to catch a thief, and the girl picks up her pace, then slows down to a complete halt… and turns.
Lovely, fearful eyes behold him the immediate second she meets his gaze, immobile hands clutching a bag of croissants and a jar of chocolate butter against her chest.
He slows down his jog and arrives in front of her with a smile, but the girl only looks more and more afraid. Even her jaw is clenched shut, the spitting image of a prey who just got caught.
“You’re her, aren’t you? The mystery girl,” he asks, trying to make it clear as day just how excited he is to finally meet her in person.
Her eyes stay wide as she blinks, the little bag of croissants crunching a bit further in her grip as she tries to shield her vital parts.
“Are you done shopping…?”
Still no answer.
She’s shy, just like he is... Maybe even more so, which is incredibly endearing: the same girl who sent him a picture of her boobs last night, the same girl who had no trouble teasing him to the point of leaking cum all over his sheets is as shy as a deer when caught in daylight. 
It’s so incredibly cute… He thought she was a seductress of the most dangerous kind, but here she is now, looking up at him as if he was some boogieman about to come and snatch her away.
His smile only widens as he looks at his little minx who just tried to run away from the individual she’s sent postcards and love letters to ever since they were kids… Who knew his secret admirer was a bashful little cutie who sneaks around the local store to get herself some sweets and snacks?
“Let me pay for those,” he gestures at the products in her hand. 
Another awkward silence follows until she finally turns her eyes to the floor and nods.
Perhaps it’s not that odd that she sent him anonymous notes and talked to him in texts and letters if she’s this timid -- he of all people should know how tough it is to walk to someone he likes and tell them he wants to go out. But he can’t help but wonder if the girl is mute, or partly deaf, or both. He wouldn’t mind. As long as they understand each other, it’s perfectly fine. 
She looks at him like he’s a god —or a monster—while he pays for her humble delicacies. She stares at him with eyes still wide while putting the groceries inside a tiny cotton bag she has with her, and says nothing when he extends his hand towards her. 
“Here. Give it to me.”
He’s trying to act the part of a gentleman to the full, and she offers the floor a tiny smile while handing him the bag. It weighs less than a half kilo, but the gesture is all that seems to matter because she is indeed smiling, shy and pleased as he shoulders the so called burden for her.
“I can walk you home if you like?” he suggests while pushing the door open for her. 
She steps out into the luminous sunlight, eyes squinting a little from the sudden brightness. Then she turns to him and says her first meek words.
“But... Then you’ll know where I live…”
“Ah! She talks,” he laughs with a full smile and watches with a spreading warmth in his chest how she starts to grin, too. She’s looking at the asphalt and her shoes but she’s smiling, incredibly beautiful and pretty, outshining even the prettiest summer day.
“Don’t worry,” he starts to banter with increasing confidence—when has he ever teased anyone, let alone been confident around a girl he likes? “I promise I won’t come howling under your window at night...”
“It’s… It’s not that,” she laughs and bites her bottom lip. “I still live with my mom…”
She starts to walk towards where he lives, and he follows, his long legs catching up with her with ease. 
“There was the COVID, and my mom is a little unwell… And with the economy… I’m still a student,” she explains while they stroll down the street.
“Really? I’m a student, too.”
“Oh…? What are you studying?”
“How to kill people,” he shrugs, cursing his stupid carefree mouth immediately. “Fuck… Sorry. That was… I mean, I’m in the army.”
“It’s okay,” she smiles.
He sneaks a peek her way, and she indeed doesn’t seem to be shocked in the slightest. Far more frightened she looked at the store when he noticed her and began to chase the poor girl. 
They proceed to talk about what he does and why, how he only just returned from a month’s training that included concealment training in the mountains. She seems interested enough in his choice of career, which he tries to make sound as striking as possible, far more intriguing than it actually is. He tries to appear a little too glorious in her eyes, fearing he won’t live up to the reputation and fantasy she has built inside her pretty little head.
What if she wanted him to be a doctor instead of a moronic soldier? Maybe she fantasized about a lawyer or a historian with whom she could have fascinating conversations… And he’s just babbling nonsense about weather meters and ghillie suits.
But her eyes are still smiling, always at him when he looks away and starts to talk with his hands. When they arrive at the little wicket gate leading up to her house, he notices she lives only about a kilometre away from his childhood home. 
She was always here, and he never knew anything about it… His secret admirer, his passionate seducer, turns out to be a harmless, lovely angel who lives right in the neighbourhood.
She takes her little cotton bag and turns to open the gate, and his hands twitch and flex. Say something clever, his mind yells, ask her out for fuck’s sake… But he needn’t worry, for his precious girl next door immediately turns back and shields her eyes from the sun while looking up at him.
“I’m sorry… I froze a little at the store. I just… This wasn’t how we were supposed to meet...”
“No? What did you have in mind for us then?”
She drops her hand back down and gives him a little halfway shrug, embarrassed.
“I don’t know. I just… I don’t even have any make-up on...”
He risks to bring a hand to her face, his thumb on her cheekbone, sweeps a little arc there to let her know she’s fucking beautiful.
“You’re very pretty,” he says, and she raises her eyes back to his, this time looking like she’s being blinded by the sun even if he’s shielding her from it.
“I really liked the picture you sent me,” he says boldly, and for the second time this afternoon, hopes the earth could swallow him right then and there. 
A pretty girl sends him one nice picture of her tits, and he has to be an asshole about it… She looks super uncomfortable, so flustered that she nearly guides her face away from his palm. 
Fuck that he’s stupid… Must he always be such an idiot and fuck everything up?
“I’m sorry... I meant to say that–”
“I’m glad you liked it,” she rises on her toes and plants a quick, flustered peck on his cheek, then turns to the gate as quickly as a whirlwind. Opens it, and returns solely to give him a bashful, naughty little smile. 
“I liked your picture too,” she says so softly he can barely hear it. 
“...Oh,” he squeaks, cheek still burning from her kiss.
“Do you want to come and see me tonight...? Mom usually drops before ten...”
“I… I… Sure.”
It’s a catastrophe.
His old jeans barely fit him anymore, they’ve become way too tight around the thighs. He’s put on some weight during the past few years and made sure to go to the gym every slack hour he has at his disposal, which means he’s packed a bit of muscle here and there. That, along with the many outdoor trainings, have ensured his appetite remains even bigger than usual so it’s no wonder none of his old pants fit. The only ones that don’t look utterly suggestive and wrong are his grey sweatpants, which he wore to the store today. He can’t very well wear those on a date, no matter what all those thirsty TikTok memes say...
He sighs, and grabs the black military pants he had on when he came here, pairing them with a simple black T-shirt. That’s all he has in his drawers: black, black, black, a few white ones that have some food and coffee stains on them, stains that never leave no matter how hard his mom tries to wash them for him.
The house is silent as he slips the keys into his pocket and hollers that he’s leaving. Like some lovesick, unneutered dog about to slink into the night…
“Mom? I’m going out. I… I have a date.”
“At this hour...?”
“Yeah… We’re… Going out to look at the moon,” he makes up off the top of his head.
His mom would scold him for harassing some poor girl when it’s almost midnight, even if it was her who invited him to her house. And if he’s lucky, there’s going to be a lot more action than just staring at the moon together… Not that that’s all he wants; it’s just that he’s been lonely as fuck and could really use a hug. 
Is it a crime, with the past that he has, to want some human contact? Some skin on skin memories that don’t include punching?
“My little boy,” his mom strolls into the room, looking at him with soft, worried eyes. “You look like you’re about to invade some poor, innocent country…”
“Eh… I know. All the other pants were too small.’
She smiles at him: seeing a grown man sweat like a pig before a date must be a silly sight, even more compelling when that man is your own boy. The clock ticks on the wall as she looks at him like he’s about to march off to war, his only shoes a pair of standard leather boots he’s used for two years now. He showed them some grease and a brush, managed to make them look a little less worn and torn – if he had known some cute girl back home had a crush on him, he would’ve visited a clothing store before he came here…
His mom raises a shaky hand and draws him down to kiss him on the cheek, her eyes glossy and hazed from the gathering tears. 
“I’m glad you’re finally eating enough,” she whispers with a voice that barely holds intact, and they both know why it’s shaking, why everything’s trembling; her hands, her voice and her tears.
His bottom lip is twitching too from witnessing his mom being so happy for his sake. But he doesn’t want to cry. He must stay oblivious and strong and pretend that things are finally how they should’ve been: normal and easy and wholesome and good. For her, he will never show that he’s shaking… Too many things in her life have done that when she needed them to stay stable and safe.
“Wish me luck,” he gives her a nervous smile, laughing the tears away.
“I always do…”
He leaves before his tower crumbles, slips out into the sweet, scented night.
There’s roses somewhere, roses that smell heavenly, some early jasmine too that wishes to intoxicate his mind. He realizes he has nothing with him to take as a gift for her, and cusses again. This is a fucking date, and he’s not even dressed properly; he doesn’t even have flowers to bring with him… She’s going to think he’s a nobody, some penniless freak who dresses like a crazy person when he’s supposed to dazzle her and make her swoon.
On his way to her place, he stops to cut a small branch from a flowering rowan tree and shelters it from the gusts of wind that blow from the river. The tiny flowers are delicate and fragrant, not exactly what he would’ve taken to her had he been clever enough to visit a florist before they all closed. But it’s cute enough, to him at least, especially when it’s cut from the tree that was his safe haven as a boy.
The curtains at her window shift when he arrives at the gate, and he knows she’s been expecting him, waiting for the clock to strike ten as eagerly as he.
The front door opens, and there she is: dressed far more accordingly than he; his lady has slipped into a sweet summer dress like the angel that she is. It’s bright and yellow, far from the darkness he always wears, and his heart is slowly squeezing to bits inside his chest.
“Hey,” she gives him a wide, knee-buckling smile.
“Hey,” he smiles back, marching to her door like a horny, ugly wolf. “You want to go for a walk? It’s a beautiful ni–”
The moment he arrives at her feet, the moment she sees that he’s carrying a tiny branch from the rowan tree for her, she snatches the front of his shirt and pulls him inside with a surprising amount of strength.
His forehead hits the doorframe with a thick thud before he manages to bow, and there’s a bit of a commotion after that. He huffs something akin to Oof and laughs, making the angel flit around him in a wild, flustered shame, apologizing to him at least ten times.
“Oh my god, I’m sorry! I’m sorry… I’m sorry, I’m sorry….”
“Heh. It’s okay,” he smiles while rubbing the achy spot on his head. He’s forced to sit into an old wicker chair, wide enough to accommodate his back but far too low to hold his stature. He sinks inside it like a veritable giant while she continues to fuss around him, inspecting his “wound” and taking the offering from him with a helpless, embarrassed stare.
“I’ll get you some ice,” she says before leaving him in his chair, the flower he brought softly placed on the bed. 
He’s afraid the furniture will break if he moves, so he stays as still as possible while taking in his surroundings, the soft girl adobe he has somehow managed to sneak his sorry rotten arse into. 
She has a large TV in front of her bed, a gaming console and a lot of books, candles everywhere he steals a look. The beige bedding looks freshly changed and incredibly soft, and there’s an old bunny toy on her bedstand along with another book, both loved to bits. Some houseplants on the floor appear to be doing extremely well, a small leather bag and some makeup left scattered on her desk. Rocks and twigs and dried flowers rest on her window sill, treasures she’s gathered from her trails. It makes his heart grow soft because he knows she will probably put his little offering there too. A bouquet of expensive, luxurious flowers wouldn’t have hit their target at all.
She returns with a small pack of ice and rushes to him in her flowy, blooming summer dress. Descends on her knees and brings a small towel to his forehead before pressing the ice over it, ensuring that it’s not too cold to make him uncomfortable. 
As if he could ever feel uncomfortable, seated in a wicker chair with an angel between his legs, treating his supposed wound with ice and the softest touch…
“Remember all those postcards you sent me?” he asks while she continues to look like the worst person who ever lived, simply because she was too eager to pull him inside her room.
“Sadly, yes.”
“Remember what you wrote to me?”
“Not really,” she says, dabbing the ice pack all over the rising bump on his head. “Something stupid, I suppose…”
“You told me that you love me.”
Her eyes dart to his for a while, hope and shame battling in her fae stare.
“...Oh God.”
“Many times. And then you told me that I’m cute…”
She sighs and brings the ice and the cloth somewhere in her lap. The breasts inside their soft little cell look astoundingly delicious when viewed from up here: he’s slouching in a chair and still, is able to take a rude little peek inside her dress. He slaps himself mentally for being such a goddamn pervert, but then she sighs again, the cute little peaches swelling inside her dress once more.
“That’s it?” 
“That’s mostly it, yes…”
He’s getting hard here, which is a problem. A big, big problem…
His shy admirer never notices anything, not even when he softly gestures for her to give the ice to him. He continues to press it on his forehead, trying to concentrate on the cold sensation rather than the swelling dick in his pants. 
How is he supposed to not grow hard when he knows this adorable little creature has been infatuated with him for so long? When he knows she’s flustered now, just from hearing him tease her about those silly, harmless cards?
“I kept every single one,” he tells her, only to watch how the shy girl grows even shyer.
“You didn’t…”
“I did.”
He tells her about the bullies and how they made it look like they had sent the cards, telling him no girl could ever want to be with him. It’s a sad attempt to fish for her affection and pity, words of contempt and judgement to hammer it home that he did receive those cards from this girl, he did, in fact, deserve to be loved and adored.
And then she starts to talk about how she watched him... How she went to a different school than him, but that she sometimes strolled behind him when he walked home. They shared the journey to and from school, and he was always completely unaware that he was being followed.
“You stared at this rowan tree for what seemed like hours,” she recalls with a sad smile. “Then, if a bee caught your eye, or a bird or some flower, you stopped to ogle at those instead…”
He laughs, but there’s a bittersweet stone in his chest. If he remembers correctly, these were the only times of the day he could drop his eternal guard: in school, he was being tormented by cruel kids and at home there lived a tyrant with his sad little subjects. Trees and bees and birds were a welcome distraction.
She smiles a little, but it’s not a happy smile, even if it is affectionate.
“My mom always told me to come straight back home,” she says. “But you were never in a hurry...”
He looks at her, and she looks back, some pity in her eyes. There arrives a sweet and sour pain in his heart, a feeling that comes from knowing there was someone who witnessed a glimpse of the hope and pain he lived in. That there was someone there all along… 
“You even stopped to look at dog poo…”
“Heh... Was that the moment you fell for me?”
Her lip twitches, the pity in her stare breaks. She rises a little to lean forward, and he catches her with ease as she falls there into his arms, snug into his lap. His lips find hers without effort, and sensation bleeds: his hands are sweaty and shaking as he runs them down along her dress, cups her ass so that she gives a little gasp straight into his mouth. 
That’s the thing he was pining for: for her to open that pretty little mouth so that he could pry it further open with his own. Plunge an exploring tongue inside, not too quick and not too greedy, just a little poke to see if she wants to be claimed.
The angel melts in his lap, like pure white snow, until he braces his core and rises to his feet. It’s now or never, and he’s not going to let this moment slip past his fingers. Somehow, they end up on the bed, the smell of fresh linens and her dainty perfume catching his nose before she presses a pair of weak hands on his chest.
“The flower...”
The flower... Of course. 
The flower from the rowan tree.
He huffs a laugh on her face, a relieved smile as he understands she’s only worried about trampling his gift.
It’s set aside on the table, but right after that, he attacks her again, begins the ascension to heaven. His lips won’t get enough of her, not even as he drinks her like honeydew and ambrosia: the dress he used to associate with seraphs and summer now seems like a huge obstacle between his tongue and her skin, the need to taste more of her urgent in his hips.
“Can I take this off?” He roughs a hand down the fabric that shields her breasts, relishing the tiny moan that follows when he does that. “I want to kiss you everywhere…”
Her throat makes a wet, charming sound as she swallows, her eyes now pools of dark, drunken love. 
“On one condition,” she tells him, out of breath. “If I can kiss you everywhere too?”
It’s a deal, his mind exclaims immediately, but his devilish grin is how he tells her he’s more than eager to accept these terms. His clothes find their way on the floor along with hers, black on black on yellow, but he won’t let her shiver in the cold for long. Like a man possessed, his body finds hers, her soft, naked skin colliding with his like heaven after all those lonely nights of slick, urgent fapping. 
He’s not sure who’s worshipping who here, but he vows to never again let this angel fly under his radar, no matter how perfect of a guardian she has been. A guardian angel, following him with her blessed stare, sending him heavenly messages that were real and true all along. 
She should be rewarded for her abundant gifts, and so his lips find her shoulders and her neck; they graze her nipples and claim her breasts in devouring that leaves her back arching on the bed.
“You don’t have a girl? Waiting for you back there...?” she asks shyly, even when half her tit is being sucked by his mouth.
“The only thing waiting for me back there is my hand,” he rasps while diving down, down, down, all the way past her navel and the mound she still tries to protect from plunder.
“...I can be your girl,” she whispers somewhere high above, her hands holding his head like that of an untamed dog. “If you want…?”
He breathes on the apex between her thighs, presses a furious kiss there without care. 
“F-fuck…” she sighs those thighs open, and from that point on, nothing is enough.
It’s horrible that it must be so: that he finally gets to drink his fill, and it’s still not enough. Her sighs are not enough, her trembling body is not enough. Her attempts to muffle her moans with the back of her hand are not nearly enough.
He wants more, so much more: he wants to try all there is to this with her, forever and ever until the day he dies. He wants to hear her soil her tongue with more curses as he ruins her, bit by bit, just a little bit…
“Say it,” he pants into her glistening lips, “Say that you’re my girl…”
When she does nothing but whimpers in return, he attacks her with both teeth and tongue. Bruises the thigh beside her treasure before plunging straight towards the main prize with reckless want. That’s what finally forces the words out of her mouth: his tongue inside her cunt, delving so deep he has to breathe through his nose to keep from fainting.
“I’m your girl,” she moans on the bed, a bit louder now. “I’m yours, I promise… I always… Always…”
I always was….
She doesn’t say it. She doesn’t need to. 
He grants her mercy after that, replacing the tongue with a finger or two. Slow wide circles over her clit accompanied by quick little pumps in her hole make her cum in no time, and he’s glad he listened to the dirty mess talk of his filthy comrades. Patience is not his virtue, but for her, he makes all the effort.... He for sure leaves a little memory on her thigh. It’s not very nice of him, and he fears those teeth marks might stay with her longer than just a few weeks. 
Maybe she’ll forgive him if he fucks her after this, rocks her slowly and softly, fucks her like angels ought to be fucked. But no, fucking is not the right word... He wants to make love to her. Drink her moans right from her lips while he does it.
After the climax, he’s still hard and she’s still panting.
He wonders if he’ll get slapped or kissed if he asks for permission to put it inside now... His dick is throbbing while they stare at the ceiling together, but as always, his angel is two steps ahead.
“My turn,” she says with newfound vigour, and he gets more than he bargained for: everything and more as she gives his body the same attention he just gave her. Bites his nipples a little too hard, the little minx, licks his ribs as if it’s some kind of a contest to try and make him tickle. Laughs angel trails across his skin, draws a finger down his nether hair until she meets his jutting dick.
She gives him a tame little lick at first, then slowly, expeditiously, kisses his cock from root to tip. Before due time, his thighs start to tremble, and that’s when she takes it in her mouth: sucks and licks him deep until his abs and balls pull tight. The sheet in his fist threatens to get torn to shreds when he cums, and for a moment, he forgets everything, even his name, until he notices that the poor little thing can’t swallow all his load. She almost chokes on the first spurt, withdraws to cough with her mouth closed while he hisses fat curses past clenched teeth. 
When he arrives back to Earth, there’s cum everywhere: on her face, on the sheets, all over his abdomen and his thighs, an eruption that spilled everywhere because his angel got a little appalled.
“I’m sorry,” she peeps with her mouth still full of it.
The poor girl swallows it bravely, and his heart is about to explode: his angel swallows his filthy load like a champ and looks so incredibly valiant while doing it.
“Hey,” he raises a shaking hand towards her, too weak to rise from the bed to comfort her. “It’s okay… You didn’t need to do that…”
“But I wanted to,” she complains while the thick, sticky cum drips down her cheek and onto her breasts.
“Shit… Come here,” he coaxes, and she crawls forward to nestle in the nook of his arm. 
He uses the sheet to dry the rest of it off her face. She looks up at him with that trademark seraph stare, so helpless and in love—if this is what having a girlfriend is like, then he doesn’t feel bad at all that he had to wait a little longer than most men. It was worth all the trouble and toil that he has her here now, in his arms, batting her lashes sweetly. 
“You’re still incredibly cute, you know...?” she whispers, and a mountain inside him moves. 
It’s not sorrow, nor is it yearning; it’s just sweet, simple love. The room smells of salt and sin, but there’s nothing sinful about her when she cups his chin. He knows it’s not elegant to tell someone you love them on the day you've met them, but if the one you love happens to be an angel, then isn't it a sin not to confess?
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violet-fluff · 2 days
Text
Levi x Drunk! Reader (oneshot)
Safe With You
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Thanks for the request ❤️
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Levi is sitting with Hanji and Mike in the mess hall, having some relaxing nighttime tea and chatting amongst themselves.
Hanji takes note of Levi’s sour mood as you decided to chaperone your gang of brats at the market instead of having your nightly tea routine with him.
“Where’s your little service dog?” Levi asks Hanji with a cross of his arms.
Hanji laughs. “Don’t call Moblit that! He’s sleeping. He’s had a long day.”
Mike snorts and takes a bite of his pastry. “A long day dealing with you.”
Levi smirks and gives Mike a nod of approval when Jean and Connie walk through the main door, arguing between themselves. The two young men freeze when they make eye contact with their squad leaders.
“Captain! You’re still awake!” Connie blurts out, rubbing the back of his head nervously.
Levi’s face stays deadpanned. “Am I not supposed to be?”
Jean chuckles through clenched teeth, “No it’s just that-“
Before he can finish, Mikasa walks passed them with you thrown across her shoulder.
Hanji immediately stands up as she sees her best friend unmoving. “What happened?!”
Armin and Eren walk behind Mikasa to help her lower you on the bench, letting you lay your head on the table.
Mike scowls as he takes in a big whiff of the air near you. “Definitely drunk.”
“Why the hell is she drunk?” Levi glares as he shakes your shoulder to get you to wake up.
Sasha gags. “I wouldn’t do that. She already threw up on me…twice.”
Armin decides to be the one to speak up and give their captain the story. “Well, a vendor was selling wine and offered for her to taste some. One turned into two, two turned into three…and so on…”
Levi grabs his cravat from around his neck to clean the drool dribbling from the side of your mouth. “And none of you decided to stop her?”
“Y/N never takes a break and it looked like she was enjoying it. Besides, we don’t drink, so we didn’t know wine can do this.” Eren tries to defend him and his friends even though he knows punishment will come anyway.
Mike stifles back a laugh. “Don’t be too hard on them, Captain. Y/N’s always been a lightweight.”
Hanji shrugs in agreement. “Yeah, that part is true. I haven’t seen her this drunk in a really long time though.”
Everyone stops talking when they hear you muttering in your unconscious state.
Mikasa tucks some strands of your hair behind your ear and rubs your back. “Y/N, are you ok?”
“Levi…I want Levi…”
Levi sighs and sits next to you on the bench. “I’m right here. Do you feel sick?”
You nod in discomfort and Hanji gets up to grab you some water.
“Try sitting her up. Her head laying down is probably making her dizzy.” Mike suggests.
Jean and Connie help you sit up and Levi leans you against his side. “You brat, why would you drink like that for?”
Hanji comes back with water and you open your eyes enough to grab the glass shakily, but Levi notices some bruising forming on your knuckles.
“What happened to her hands?” He asks as he helps you drink the water.
Jean cringes as he looks at Connie for help, but Connie shakes his head. “Well…” Jean starts, “The wine vendor was starting to get handsy with Y/N, and I’m not sure if it was the alcohol, but she laid a heavy punch to his face.”
“Ha! Didn’t know she had it in her.” Mike laughs but is silenced by Hanji’s elbow digging into his side as she sees anger spread across Levi’s face.
Armin steps forward quickly. “Don’t worry! Nile was actually nearby and saw it happen. He said he will take care of the vendor. Y/N’s not in trouble!”
“That guy…he was…GROSS…” Your speech slurs and you choke as you down more water. “He’s-….he’s lucky Levi wasn’t there! That wo-“ You hiccup, “Would have been…BAD!”
Hanji tries not to laugh, but she wishes there were a way to capture this moment.
Levi raises a brow. “Oh, it would be?”
You let out a hiccuped laugh. “Yeah! He-Levi…he always protects me…” More water spurts from your mouth as you have a hard time drinking from the cup. “That’s why …I-I…like him so much. We should- get…married!”
Everyone’s mouth drops and Mike can’t help but let out a whistle. “Ah, drunken truths.”
Mike is loving this.
Levi side eyes him as he wipes off your mouth. You smile and fall forward into his chest. “I’m tired…”
Levi pats your back. “Did you want to go to bed?”
You shake your head and wrap your arms around his torso. Suddenly, soft snores are faintly heard.
“Well…at least she can sleep it off at least a little for right now.” Hanji says as she smiles at the sight.
“At least she feels comfortable with you, Captain. She didn’t want any of us to grab her.” Sasha said. “When I tried, she just released the contents of her stomach onto me.”
“I’m shocked you didn’t eat it.” Connie sticks his tongue out at her, but she whacks him in the head.
The crew takes this time to grab some trays of left over dinner and sit at the adjacent table to eat. Levi is holding you close and rubbing your back as you snore softly into his shirt.
You stir awake after twenty minutes, head still foggy but conscious enough to start becoming familiar with your surroundings.
You slowly sit up, and when your eyes focus, you see everyone watching you.
“Hey, girly! You alright now?” Hanji smiles.
You grimace and look to your side and see Levi. You are exhausted and your head is starting to pound, so you slide into his lap and burry your face into his neck.
“Did I say you can get into my space, brat?” He whispers in your ear.
You shake your head no. You didn’t care who was watching, Levi looked mighty comfortable to lay on.
He sighs. “How about I take you to bed?”
“Nooo!” You whimper. “I want to stay with you!”
“Ok, I’ll stay but you are going to lay in bed.” Levi hooks an arm under your legs and picks you up.
He gives all the brats a “thank you” for watching over you, and then carries you to his room.
When he gets there, he lays you on his bed and starts taking off your shoes.
“Levviiii…stay here!” You groan out.
He clicks his tongue and rubs your hand. “Why do you want me to stay so bad?”
You burry your face deeper into the pillow. “Safe.” Is all you mutter before passing out again.
Levi frowns as he looks at your bruised knuckles. You were right when you said he would kill that vendor for touching you, and you were right in saying he would keep you safe.
He smiles gently and crawls in bed behind you, pulling you close to his chest as he spoons you from behind.
“You reek.” He says as he buries his face into the back of your neck.
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205 notes · View notes
sunboki · 13 hours
Text
— FOR THE NIGHT. a Christopher Bahng fiction
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Christopher Bahng x fem. reader
WORD COUNT. 1.1k words
AUG'S NOTES. this bangchan is from my “Korea’s Most Wanted” universe because i have yet to get over him from october…
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“Bin, you said it was shipped friday.” The man, Christopher Bahng, grumbles, massaging the pinch between his brows.
His counterpart, Bin, whom he was now quarreling with on the phone groaned profusely, claiming how shipments were already slow—not to mention with the new investigations on his business underway.
The life of The Gunsman isn’t an easy one. It’s a constant game of tag against the police and the government while wielding a well-planned dictionary of excuses to avoid suspicion. 
So now, as Bahng’s precious system becomes increasingly jeopardized, he finds himself losing more and more sleep to a worrisome degree.
And, having left the party filled with chairman, associates, and colleagues alike, Bahng slips into the safety of his car, once again troubled with the demands this illegal trade calls for.
“Well tell him I’ll have to serve his head on a platter if the ammunition doesn’t arrive by Friday. I’m running a charity event with how many funds I’ve given the idiot.”
Although halfway into Bin’s response, a quiet, though audible sound rustles in his backseat.
Instantly, he’s lurched a pistol from his thigh, aimed directly at the responsible interruption.
“Bahng. Bahng?” Bin echoes, only to be hung up on as Chris takes in the sight before him.
Lying in his backseat, curled up in a miniature ball, is a girl.
Your face is wrinkled in discomfort, hand resting right below your cheek, smushed against his car, a Lamborghini’s, interior.
How you got here without him noticing is beyond him, how long you’ve been here an even larger mystery.
His hand falters with the pistol, gawking with obvious surprise prior to stuffing the weapon back into its leather holster.
Instinctively, he would’ve called an assistant, asked them to take you home, find someone who knew you. Except, by the look of your current state, he has an inkling you wouldn’t be the greatest help navigating.
You’re gone.
Plus, the party’s already drawing to a close, people scattering out in every direction. The last thing he needs is to draw attention to himself.
Bahng may work illegally, lacking the fear of blood on his hands, but he’s not heartless.
Stifling a sigh, he rakes a hand through his hair, repeatedly clearing his throat in the case you woke up.
Leave it to him to end up with a random girl in his backseat.
Fine. Home it is.
Or, one of his many homes in the area.
Starting the engine, he spares repeated glances at you on the drive back, simply met with your same, woeful expression. Eyes screwed shut, lips pursed, cheeks stained a pink hue.
Pulling in, he stalls in the front seat, debating on all his morals up till now.
“I can’t believe I’m doing this..” Words a mere mutter, he carefully opens your door, gingerly dragging you out from your awkward position.
Knees pulled to your chest, Bahng keeps one, scarred hand on your back and another beneath your thighs while your head hangs, both hands bunched into fists, pressed to your chest.
Scared.
Whatever happened before, however you got here, you were scared—that much was known.
Somehow, the realization had him holding you closer.
Swiping the code to the door, he silently curses the loud beep, confusing himself with his concern for you.
Why did he care? You’d wake up, he’d get your home address and send you off. Why was he now so conscious about your comfort?
Heading up the winding stairs, he pulls his office chair from its place, deciding water as the best option.
“I’m going to put you down for a second, okay?”
Gently idling you into the chair, his movements halt when your arms reach up around his shoulders, a soft, barely divisible whine slipping past your lips, unwilling to let go.
He can barely recognize anything with how loud his heart rams against his rib cage.
Pull yourself together Bahng.
Ensuring you were still asleep, he slips into the kitchen, filling a glass with water before returning to you.
Your head jerks from when he holds the rim to your mouth, unwilling to cooperate.
“Just water sweetness,” He soothed, hating how worried he was, how senseless this behavior was.
Yet, he only continued to ease you into each sip, palm cupping your cheek for support, narrowly masking his astonishment when your eyes slowly opened, barely awake.
“Mm..?” Your vocal cords betray you, leering on the verge of dream and reality as you try acknowledging your surroundings.
No amount of recollection aids your perception in figuring out how you got here, only aware of the blaring ache in your head and a strangers voice in the distance.
One thing’s for certain. You feel awful.
Discerning the splash of water dumped down a sink, you’re once again hoisted into his arms, disappearing back into unconsciousness as Bahng nudges open his bedroom door, settling down on the edge of the bed.
“I don’t mean to man-handle you, but we need to get these shoes off.”
Situating you upright, his arm slips down, propping each of your ankles where he can pull the heels from your feet.
Softly placing you down, he savors your feeble grip grasping at his clothing, gradually loosening in an attempt at holding his face.
“Unfortunately, I can’t stay here all night sweets, you’re gonna have to let go,” Bahng whispers, easing your wrists down to your sides.
Unfortunately? What’s gotten into him?
Although, just as he adjusts the comforter over you, turning to go, he hears a sniffle.
C’mon, ignore it, she’s fine.
Another sniffle.
Screw it.
“If you tell me where you live I can take you home?” He utters, lingering by your bedside like a child waiting to hear if they can go on a play date.
It’s painful admitting the effect your tears have on him, brows creasing so sadly in a way he can’t ignore.
“Are… Are you gonna hurt me?” You whimper, feeling absolutely exhausted the longer your mind races, frantically piecing together any clues of your whereabouts to no avail.
The pad of his thumb wiping free falling tears, he shakes his head, a miniature smile gracing usually serious, unmoving features.
“I can’t say I haven’t hurt someone before, but I’m not gonna hurt you, alright sweetness?”
Nodding fervently, his face contorts, admiring the adorable manner you blink up at him, lashes all clumped from crying.
Look, his ego isn’t too fragile to admit you’re cute.
“..How did I get here?”
Bahng chuckles.
“I don’t know the answer to that myself.”
Freeing your arm from his sheets, you furiously rub your eyes, frown tugging at the corner of your lips, hiccuping as your breathing shallows.
“I know things are scary when you’re this drunk. I promise everything will be a thousand times better in the morning.”
And with that, he pulls the comforter over you, bidding a quiet good night and nearing the door for a second time.
This time, you intervene, latching onto the fabric of his shirt.
“Thank you.”
What did he just get himself into.
He sucks his teeth, surveying the sleepy eyes you’re torturing him with.
“Don’t mention it.”
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sunboki, may 2022 ©
102 notes · View notes
solar-wing · 11 hours
Text
⚣ Take Care Of Me 🪢
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⚣🪢 A/N → Another request from my first account is finished! Sorry for how long it took but I hope you enjoy it. WARNINGS: 18+ MDNI | Omegaverse | Alpha Jason Todd | Omega Male Reader | African-American Male Reader | Ruts | Rough Sex | Oral Sex | Fingering | Knotting | Bondage | ETC
⚣🪢 Summary → As a side effect of Jason being healed and resurrected in the Lazarus pits, his ruts have grown more intense. He's resigned to suffering through them alone until he realizes the longer he goes without knotting an Omega, the stronger they will get. So he decides to reach out to Y/N...
⚣🪢 Words → 12.7K
REBLOGS & replies are greatly appreciated, please! 💛
⚣ ENJOY 🪢
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Jason could be such an irresponsible, stubborn little shit sometimes.
“Y/N, chill out. I don’t need you to always take care of me,” Jason grumbled as the smaller male forced him to sit on the toilet in his bathroom while he patched and mended his wounds.
“Apparently, you do doofus, since you always end up showing up on my balcony a bloody and bruised mess. I swear, Jason, one of these days you’re going to get yourself killed if you don’t just start learning to ask for help,” Y/N scolded as he applied an anesthetic to a nasty blade wound on the vigilante’s arm. Any deeper and Jason wouldn’t have been lucky enough to make it to Y/N’s before he passed out from blood loss.
“Been there, done that sweetheart,” Jason smirked.
Y/N rolled his eyes at him while wrapping the gauze and bandage around his admittedly large bicep, “You’re insufferable.”
“But, you still love me,” Jason confidently stated, standing to his feet after Y/N put on the last bandage.
“Regretfully,” Y/N retorted as he packed away his medical supplies. Ever since that first night he and Jason met, the Omega kept his med kit stocked, even splurging on a few extra items he would need for certain wounds that only a trip to the ER would be able to treat.
Y/N's sight turned to the muscular Alpha standing beside him, watching from the corner of his eyes as he checked his wounds and grabbed his shirt and gear from the ground. Even though they were only friends, the Omega couldn’t deny the attraction he felt towards the vigilante.
He didn’t know if it was romantic or just sexual, but it was something. But, seeing the life Jason had and his choice of career, he decided it’d be better if he didn’t indulge himself in that, no matter how badly he wanted to.
They’d met a couple of years prior when Y/N had first moved to Gotham. Since he was new to the city, he didn’t understand the dos and don’ts and would consistently go for walks late at night when most people would usually be inside by then with the doors and windows locked.
As one can imagine, this eventually led him to trouble when one random night, he got ambushed by some thugs. At first, they were going to just mug him, but when they realized he was an Omega, their intentions slightly changed with a very undesirable end for Y/N.
Thankfully, an angel came to his rescue in the form of the famous vigilante, Red Hood. He’d knocked out the two Alphas cornering the Omega against the wall and scaring off the one Beta before coming over to help the Omega off the ground.
Of course, there was the cliché moment where the rescued victim thanks their savior gleefully and they slowly glance at each other, feeling a deep connection before they fall in love and swoop off into the night. Well, at least it could’ve gone like that.
As Red Hood was checking to make sure the Omega was okay and escorting him out the alleyway, they both missed one of the other Alphas getting back to their feet and grabbing their weapon off the ground before charging at the vigilante. He was able to fight him off and knock him out, but not before taking some pretty nasty cuts that would’ve been lethal had he not reacted quickly.
When Y/N realized how badly he was injured, he helped him back to his apartment where he thankfully had barely enough supplies in his first-aid kit to stop the initial bleeding and patch him up enough. The Omega suggested taking him to the hospital, but Red Hood turned it down.
“Don’t worry, sweetheart. I got some people who’ll take good care of me. But, you be careful out there. No more late-night walks in this city, got it?”
After that night, Y/N didn’t see Red Hood for some time until a few weeks later when he showed up on his balcony again, bruised and battered and in dire need of some medical aid. Why he didn’t go to his ‘people’ but rather going to a random Omega he’d only met some weeks prior was beyond him, but he didn’t complain.
Eventually, with enough visits, they went from random strangers to somewhat trusted acquaintances, until eventually, they were seeing each other so much, a lot of the time the vigilante not needing any medical attention, just checking in on the Omega that they became friends.
Now, just a couple of years later, Y/N knew not just Red Hood, but the man behind the hood and under the skin-tight gear which he did not ogle regularly. He didn’t! Stop looking at him like that!
“Ah, you don’t mean that,” Jason said while putting his shirt back on.
He turned to the Omega who’d just put away his med kit back under the sink before looking at him and placing his hands against the sink, leaning back for support.
“You can’t tell me what I mean,” Y/N replied.
“Yes, I can. You always say I'm insufferable, but never mean it. Otherwise, you wouldn't be so kind to let me into your apartment every time I need your delicate touch," Jason teased.
And for whatever reason, Jason saying that sparked a bit of arousal in Y/N's stomach, but he chose to ignore it.
"Whatever," Y/N replied with an eye roll while pressing himself against the sink as he noticed the sudden closeness between him and Jason, not even noticing that the Alpha had got closer, almost boxing him against the sink, "Um, sir? Why are you so close? This bathroom is already small enough, and you're not helping by taking up so much space here."
Y/N didn't even want to turn around and look in the mirror, knowing that Jason's towering and bulky frame shown in the mirror compared to his smaller and softer one would cause very sinful thoughts in his mind. Not that he hadn't had these thoughts before.
"I'm not taking up any more space than you are, shorty," Jason retorted.
"That's a bold-faced lie. We both know I'm a perfectly respectable height. You're just giant," Y/N replied.
Jason chuckled, his laugh making the Omega's body feel all tingly and warm. It didn't help that the sound seemed to resonate from the Alpha's chest, the vibrations from his laugh reaching Y/N's own, causing the smaller male to bite his bottom lip.
"Maybe there'd be more room if you got rid of the ridiculous number of lotions and creams you have in here," Jason spoke lowly, subtly getting closer to the Omega while leaning more into his space.
"You leave me and my lotions alone. Don't get mad at me because I don't allow myself to be ashy, which speaking of it, you probably need some help with. Then again, that could just be your caucasianess," Y/N said, gesturing a hand over Jason's body where his pale and ivory skin was exposed.
Jason chuckled, "Why do you always have to go and attack my skin color?"
"Because, unlike you, I'm not an enemy of the sun," Y/N replied.
"Okay, just because I lack melanin doesn't make you better than me."
"Hmm, I think it does," Y/N joked.
"You're an asshole."
"But, you still love me," Y/N replied, mocking Jason's earlier words.
Y/N noticed again the space becoming much smaller between him and the Alpha, and it was not doing much to help quell the growing arousal he was already feeling in his body. He and Jason already had a platonic bond, since Jason would constantly scent mark him on his wrists and leave clothes for the Omega to wear whenever he knew the smaller male was going out into the city by himself.
The gesture was appreciated, and Y/N was flattered that the vigilante was concerned for his well-being, but having his clothes filled with the Alpha's scent wasn't helping his already developing feelings for the Alpha.
"You're still getting closer," Y/N breathed.
"And you're still not stopping me," Jason replied, his voice a low and husky rumble, making the Omega's toes curl in his shoes.
"I...uh," Y/N tried to think of a response, his brain feeling fuzzy.
A few quiet seconds passed before something passed over Jason's eyes, seemingly like he was coming out of a trance. The Alpha took a step back, giving the Omega a little bit of breathing room, even despite his disappointment at his moving back.
"Sorry, I uh...sorry, I didn't mean to get so close," Jason apologized.
"Hey, it's okay. I'm not upset," Y/N told him, gently placing his hand on the Alpha's wrist, jerking at the heat he felt underneath the ivory skin, "Jason, you're really hot."
"Well, thank you, sweetheart. Glad you noticed," Jason winked, trying to deflect the comment.
"No, no, I mean, you're burning up. Are you okay?" Y/N asked, removing his hand and using it to press the back of his palm against the Alpha's forehead, a worried look crossing his face. He didn't even realize it was him now closing the distance between them, stepping into the Alpha's space.
"Yeah, I'm fine, don't worry. I'm just running a bit of a fever, it's no big deal," Jason answered.
"You're literally sweating buckets, and your skin is red. This is more than just a 'bit of a fever'. Have you taken your temperature? How about a shower and some cold water? I'm sure I have some ice packs-"
"I'm fine, Y/N. Just drop it," Jason snapped, a little too harshly as the Omega immediately flinched and stepped back, looking away from the Alpha.
"Right, sorry. I didn't mean to bother," Y/N mumbled.
Jason sighed, running a hand through his hair, "No, don't apologize. I didn't mean to snap. Look, it's late, and I'm exhausted. I'll head home and sleep it off, alright?"
"You're welcome to stay the night if you want. It's no trouble. I'll even let you use my various lotions," Y/N joked, though his tone and face were still showing his worry for his friend.
"Thanks, but I'm not gonna intrude. I'll see you later, Y/N," Jason said, walking past the Omega.
Before he could say anything else, Jason grabbed the rest of his things and was out of the bathroom and his apartment within a couple of minutes. The sudden tense and awkward silence was a little unsettling for the Omega, especially after how close he and the Alpha had become in the past couple of years.
"Well, fuck," Y/N breathed, running a hand through his hair.
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A couple of days had gone by and Y/N hadn't heard anything from Jason. It wasn't unusual for him to go radio silent for a few days, sometimes a couple of weeks if he was working on an important case.
But, this was different. After seeing how Jason left his apartment the other night, the Omega had been nothing other than an anxious and worried mess.
What was wrong with him? Why was he acting so weirdly the other night? Was he okay? Did Y/N accidentally make him mad about the Sun joke?
That wouldn't make sense though since Jason had the raunchiest sense of humor he'd ever known. The jokes Y/N made could be considered playground stuff compared to some of the stuff that came out of that man's mouth.
All these questions and more had been running through the Omega's mind for the past couple of days. He wanted to check on the Alpha but was afraid of what his reaction would be if he did.
He'd thought about asking reaching out to Dick or Bruce or someone from Jason's family to see if they'd heard from him, but quickly decided against it, not wanting to come off as a clingy or annoying Omega.
Jason would talk to him when he was ready, and he had no choice but to respect that.
Even though it didn't make the wait any less painful or worrying.
"Fuck it," Y/N cursed, grabbing his phone from the coffee table.
Scrolling through his contacts, he found the name he was looking for and pressed the call button, lifting the phone to his ear.
"Hello?"
"Hi, Alfred. It's Y/N."
"Master Y/N. What a surprise. How are you, my dear boy?"
"I'm doing well, thank you," A smile spread across his face at the polished voice on the other end. The butler was always so nice and respectful to speak to. Jason always said it was impossible to talk to Alfred and not feel good or better about yourself.
"Wonderful to hear. Is there anything I can do for you?"
"Actually, yes. I was hoping you'd be able to tell me where Jason is. I haven't heard from him in a couple of days, and I was just wondering if you knew where he was."
"Unfortunately, I am not aware of Master Jason's whereabouts, nor is anyone else in the manor. He has not contacted anyone within the family for some time, and we are all rather concerned."
That had Y/N even more worried.
He knew Jason didn't have the best relationship with Bruce, his adoptive father, but from what the Omega understood, that disdain didn't extend to his other family members. At least not completely.
Especially Alfred of all people. Jason always said how Alfred was his favorite out of everyone in that entire family, so the fact that the butler didn't know what was going on had him even more on edge.
"Is everything alright, Master Y/N?" Alfred asked, noticing the Omega's long silence.
"Oh, yes, sorry. Everything's fine. Just a bit distracted," Y/N lied.
"Of course, my dear boy. If there is anything else I can do, please let me know."
"Yes, sir. Thank you," Y/N replied, hearing the butler hang up the phone a second later.
"Fuck," the Omega cursed.
After putting his phone down, the Omega ran a hand down his face while doing a nervous scratch on his durag-covered head. It didn't make sense, and the Omega was beginning to worry something terrible had happened to the vigilante, knowing the life he led.
"Dammit Jay, where the hell are you?"
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"Fucking shit," Jason groaned, sweat dripping down his body as his hands gripped the sheets.
His teeth were clenched tightly together, and his body was trembling slightly from the intense pain his lower region was feeling as he furiously moved the pocket sex toy furiously up and down his raging and hard dick, damn near close to breaking it which wouldn't be good considering it was his last one.
"Fuck, fuck, fuuuck," Jason growled, his hips arching off the bed.
This was the fourth night in a row that the Alpha had been suffering through the intense pain that was his rut. The pain was only getting worse the longer he ignored and attempted to suppress his instincts, which he wasn't doing a good job of doing if the state of his apartment was anything to go by.
His bedroom, living room, kitchen, and every other room in the apartment was in complete disarray. Broken pieces of furniture were scattered across the floor, his walls had multiple holes in them, and a few stains of his blood could be found in various spots around the place.
It was a good thing he paid rent up front and the building manager was never around, or they would've kicked him out and called the police.
"Ugh, aah," the Alpha grunted, his hips arching off the bed as the vibrations coursed through his dick, sending shivers throughout his body.
His knot was already swollen and pulsating, but it wasn't enough. He needed an actual hole to insert his knot into. A nice wet, tight, and pulsing hot hole that he could fuck and breed, pumping his cum and his seed inside.
He needed an Omega.
"Goddammit," Jason panted, tossing the small toy to the side and laying his head back on the pillow, a sheen layer of sweat covering his entire body.
The pain had gone away temporarily, but now the urge to fuck and knot an Omega was growing stronger, and it was making him lose his mind. If he could just find an Omega and breed them, the pain would go away. But, he couldn't just go and pick up a random Omega off the street and force them to spread their legs so the Alpha fuck their brains out even if that's what his body was calling him to do.
At least, not without being arrested and charged with rape.
It took everything in him to leave Y/N's apartment that night after he realized he was entering the early stages of his rut, hence his somewhat weird behavior towards the Omega. Knowing how intense and strong his ruts had gotten since he came back after being dipped in the Lazarus pits, Jason didn't want to take the chance of hurting anyone, especially the Omega he'd come to care for deeply.
Not that Y/N knew this.
And now, it was getting harder and harder to fight against the urge to do just that. To ignore his basic and natural instincts.
He figured it to be a side effect of the Lazarus pits, seeing as how other parts of his body and mind had become more enhanced after this little swim. It'd make sense that it would also affect his mating cycle, he just didn't think it would make them this intense and impossible to deal with.
As time passed and he went through his rut cycles, they slowly got more intense. He was way more aggressive than he was normally, he'd start to experience pain and literal freaking blue balls if he didn't get his knot out in enough time, and worst of all, his ruts were lasting longer and starting to occur more frequently. They used to come every 2 months, maybe one and a half if he was just unlucky. Now, they were damn near coming every month or few weeks.
And the last time he actually had someone with him through his rut, because of increased aggressiveness which made him much more brutal and rough than normal (and that was saying something), he nearly put that Omega in the hospital. Of course, they were understanding and didn't hold it against him, but he didn't want to risk hurting anyone else.
He started ignoring his ruts and locking himself away in his apartment. He'd buy a bunch of sex toys and other stuff that would help ease the pain and tension and would just tough it out until his rut was over, not caring that the pain would only get worse the longer he ignored his instincts.
"Augh," Jason moaned, the pain starting to come back and his arousal rising again.
He reached his hand down, his fingers wrapping around his large, throbbing, and rock-hard cock, his thumb rubbing the tip and smearing the precum leaking out of the slit. The Alpha groaned, his hips thrusting up into his hand, the movements rough and uncoordinated.
This is what it had been for the past almost week. Him alone in his apartment with nothing but his hand, rut-specific fleshlights that ended up torn apart after only a couple of uses because of his ridiculously enlarged knot, and an ever-consistent raging hard-on.
And the pain. Don't forget the pain.
The pain was the worst part. The need and desire to mate and breed an Omega was strong, but the physical and mental pain his body would be in due to not giving into those desires was the absolute fucking worst.
"Fuck, ugh," Jason groaned, his fist picking up speed.
His eyes closed the image of a beautiful and naked Omega underneath him, moaning his name and begging him to fuck him or her. The smell of their scent was the sweetest aroma he'd ever experienced, and their body was the softest and smoothest thing he'd ever touched.
While his hand furiously stroked up and down, so close to the edge but just not able to reach it, he could feel his anger growing more the longer it took for him to reach his release. Then, as he was imagining the body of some random Omega that was on top of him, that blurred image where their face should be suddenly had a face.
Y/N's face.
"Oh fuck Jason!"  Y/N screamed in his head, his hands pressing against the vigilante's hard chest while he bit his lips in painful pleasure as he bounced up and down on his dick.
A guttural sound left his throat, his hips thrusting up into his hand faster and harder as he imagined the smaller male on top of him, moaning and begging the Alpha to knot him, his body writhing in pleasure. His sweaty brown skin glistened in the light from the moon outside as his body moved up and down with the rattling bed from the force of Jason's thrusts inside him.
"Y/N, fu-fuck, baby, yes," Jason groaned, his body moving up and down as the imaginary Y/N bounced his body up and down the Alpha's massive cock, taking his knot so beautifully.
"Shit," the Alpha cursed, his hand gripping his cock tighter, his palm rubbing the head, a growl leaving his mouth.
He thrust into his hand even harder, his sore and throbbing cock leaking more and more pre-cum as he imagined Y/N screaming out on top of him, begging for his knot.
"Fuck, Jason, knot me! Please, I need it. Give me your knot!"
"I'm gonna, baby. Gonna knot you, give you my knot," Jason answered, his mind still deep in his fantasy.
Before he knew it, Jason had blown one of the biggest and most satisfying loads he's had this entire rut, possibly his entire life. His hips arched off the bed with his hand milking his dick for every drop of cum his balls could produce.
"Shit," Jason groaned, his hips falling back to the bed and his chest heaving up and down.
His heart was pounding, and his body was still covered in a thick layer of sweat, but the pain was subsiding. Not completely, but enough for the Alpha to at least catch his breath. His head was fuzzy, and his vision was blurry, but he was slowly coming back to reality.
"Fuck, I'm a goddamn mess."
Truthfully, this wasn't the first time this had happened. The Alpha had known for a long time that his feelings towards the Omega weren't strictly platonic. Hell, he'd immediately found the guy attractive since the first time he met him, but he had no idea when his feelings began developing into something deeper and more serious.
Even then, it wasn't like Jason was the best person to have a healthy relationship with. He wasn't exactly a people person, and he wasn't the best when it came to expressing his emotions. Plus, the fact that he had a very dangerous career choice didn't help.
But, despite all of that, Y/N was the first person he'd truly felt comfortable with in a very long time outside of Roy, and not just because he was a new Omega in the city who would always patch him up. Don't ask him why, but sometimes it was easy to talk to a complete stranger.
Plus, after getting to know him, Jason became protective of the Omega, wanting to keep him safe.
When they met, Y/N was a clueless and innocent little Omega who had no business being out at such a late hour, especially in Gotham. Jason couldn't have that. So, he made sure to check in on him regularly to make sure no harm had come to him, which didn't help with the growing attraction he was feeling towards him.
It also didn't help that Y/N and he seemed to banter back and forth and act like a couple, flirty undertones and all. Whenever they'd hang out outside of the Omega's apartment, people always assumed they were together. And it wasn't like Jason would mind that. Not at all. He just didn't know if Y/N would mind it.
He'd admit, there was a time when he thought about pursuing a romantic relationship with the Omega, but ultimately decided against it. Jason didn't think he deserved the happiness and warmth the smaller male brought him.
So, he chose to content himself with the friendship he had with him, not wanting to ruin one of the only good things he had in his life.
Now, however, the Alpha was beginning to reconsider.
Not even a few minutes went by before Jason felt his dick rising to attention again, his rut coming back with an even more demanding vengeance.
"Dammit, not again," Jason cursed, sitting up.
The pain was starting to come back, and his dick was already hardening again, the head a deep red and aching with need. His suppressants virtually did nothing for him anymore aside from giving him close to an hour of relief.
And he could feel that if he didn't knot someone soon and properly let his rut play out, he was going to kill someone. He'd already destroyed most of his apartment.
"I'm so fucked."
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"Hey, Dick. Any word on Jason?" Y/N asked, leaning his elbows on the counter as he tried to resist biting his nails while holding the phone to his ear.
He'd become more of a nervous wreck the longer he didn't hear from Jason. He figured everything would be fine, thinking that Jason was just on a mission and couldn't respond, but when Bruce reached out to him to see if he knew where his adoptive son had been, the Omega's anxiety skyrocketed.
"No, sorry. We haven't heard anything from him. We checked his safehouse and his apartment and didn't find anything but we haven't stopped looking. How are you doing?"
Y/N ignored the feeling that Dick was holding back something, not telling him the entire truth. But, he was too worried to care.
"Yeah, I'm doing okay. Just a little stressed," the Omega replied.
"You're not the only one. We're all worried about him. This isn't the first time he's gone missing, and the fact that no one has seen him or heard anything from him is making us all anxious," Dick explained.
"I understand. If you guys need any help, just let me know," Y/N told him.
"Thanks, Y/N. We'll call if we need you. Just stay safe and relax, alright? Don't worry, I'm sure he'll turn up. He always does."
"Okay. Bye, Dick."
Y/N hung up the phone after hearing Dick say his goodbyes as well before starting to pace back and forth in his apartment. It'd been a week since the Omega last saw Jason.
Normally, he'd be completely fine, knowing Jason was probably doing some vigilante business and didn't want him getting involved. But, this was different.
The way Jason left his apartment, looking like he was sick or coming down with something, the fact that he hadn't heard from him, or anyone in his family for that matter, and the fact that Dick didn't seem like he was telling him the entire truth had the Omega in a near panic.
"Jason, I swear the next time I fucking see you," the Omega cursed.
"You'll do what, sweetheart?"
"Augh!"
Y/N screamed, jumping back and tripping over the corner of the couch, falling onto his back with his feet landing on the cushions in a very sitcom-like manner. The sudden voice nearly gave him a heart attack, and his brain was short-circuiting, unable to think straight.
When he looked up, he saw Jason standing in his balcony doorway, his frame taking up the entire space, and a smirk on his face. A smirk that he had very much missed seeing, but for right now, the mushy feeling stuff was going to have to wait as he had about a week's worth of anxiety, worries, and fury to unleash on him.
"Miss me?"
"You asshole! What the hell?!" Y/N yelled, grabbing the closest thing to him, a pillow, and throwing it at him before grabbing his shoe and running over to beat him with it, "Where the hell have you been?! I haven't heard from you in a week and no one in your family has either, and you show up here asking if I miss you?! You fucking wish!"
"Whoa, okay. Calm down," Jason chuckled, stepping forward and grabbing the Omega's wrist.
"Don't tell me to calm down, you idiot," Y/N hissed, trying and failing to remove his arm from the Alpha's grasp, his grip like iron. He forgot how much he missed Jason's strong grip.
Get those dirty thoughts out of your head.
Y/N continued to beat him with his sandal until he heard a faint growl and felt himself being tackled roughly back onto the couch, the air leaving his lungs.
"Ahh," Y/N breathed, his eyes squeezing shut from the impact.
"Enough, Y/N," Jason growled, his tone low and husky, sending a shiver through the Omega's body. His larger body and hands effectively had him pinned down, the smell of his pheromones and his natural scent filling his nose.
"Uh, uh, mister! You don't get to be bossy Alpha after you've had me and everyone else worried sick for almost a week, you hear me? I oughta-"
Y/N was cut off as the Alpha leaned forward, his nose nuzzling against the skin of his neck and breathing deeply, inhaling his scent. The sudden closeness had the Omega's mind reeling, his hands instinctively gripping the Alpha's muscular arms.
"Uh- I... I oughta– Whoa, um...what are you doing?" Y/N stuttered, his heart pounding in his chest.
"God, you smell amazing," Jason purred, his voice a low rumble.
"Excuse me?"
"Your scent, it's amazing," Jason said, his teeth grazing the skin of the Omega's throat, his tongue licking a stripe across the pulse point.
Y/N let out a surprise gasp, his hands gripping the vigilante's biceps as the Alpha licked and kissed at his neck, breathing his scent in. While he was very shocked by this behavior and was still worried about him, he couldn't deny the extreme arousal he was feeling.
Jason was a big guy, not just height-wise but in terms of muscle mass and body size. So, the fact that he had him pressed underneath him on his couch, his large hands roaming his body, his mouth and nose kissing and sniffing at his neck was causing him a little issue with his underwear and the slick slowly starting to coat it.
"J-Jason, what are you doing?" Y/N breathed.
"I wanna fuck you," Jason said bluntly, pulling his head away from the Omega's neck and looking down at him, a feral look in his eyes.
"What?"
"I wanna fuck you, breed you. Need you," Jason growled, his hips grinding down onto the smaller males, the friction and the pressure of the Alpha's cock rubbing against his own Omega genitals pulling another gasp from him.
Then, a scent caught his nose. Jason's scent...
Y/N could smell the pheromones radiating off the Alpha, the scent of wood burning in a fire, leather, and hints of cinnamon filling his nose. He didn't even realize his hands were now pressed against the broad chest of the Alpha until he felt the toned muscles underneath his shirt.
"You're in your rut, aren't you?" Y/N realized.
Jason didn't make a sound, but if the way his head moved up and down as he ground himself into the Omega while still attacking his neck and scent glands, that was confirmation enough. He ran down Y/N's body, moving to grip his waist so he could force him to move back against him.
"Fuck, why didn't you tell me?"
"Didn't wanna hurt you," Jason grunted, his nose pressing into the crook of the Omega's neck and breathing deeply, his hands moving lower and gripping his thighs.
"Oh, Jason," Y/N gasped, the name slipping out as he felt the Alpha's large, rough hands move underneath his shirt, caressing his stomach and sides, "Come on, we gotta get you something to help you calm down."
"Can't wait. Need you now," Jason groaned, his hips thrusting faster.
"Jason, you can't. Not down here. Someone could see through the balcony door," Y/N argued, though the protest was weak as the Omega was losing the fight against his own arousal.
That was apparently enough to get the Alpha to see reason as he paused his movements over the Omega, but only for a moment.
"Fine, have it your way," Jason grumbled, standing up from the couch, grabbing the Omega, lifting him into his arms, and throwing him over his shoulder, his hand slapping his ass, the sting shooting straight to his core, "Let's go."
"H-Hey! Jason! Would you hold on for a second, you damn brute," Y/N cried, his arms and legs flailing.
Jason didn't listen, walking towards Y/N's bedroom instead of the bathroom where Y/N intended for them to go, not paying attention to the Omega's squirming and his hand slapping his ass again, pulling a yelp from the Omega.
It wasn't a long walk until Jason reached the Omega's bedroom and threw him on the bed, the smaller male bouncing as he landed, almost untying itself from the force.
"Shit, Jay," Y/N huffed, the air getting knocked out of him.
"Take your clothes off," Jason ordered, his voice deep and gruff.
"I'm sorry, what?" Y/N asked, not expecting that order.
"Take. Your. Clothes. Off," Jason repeated, his hands working on removing his jacket and his shirt.
Y/N could feel the small gush of slickness that came out of him as the Alpha removed his clothes, revealing his incredibly toned and muscular body, his abs rippling as his arms lifted his shirt over his head and tossed it somewhere in the room. Y/N could see the sizable print of the Alpha's dick bulging in his pants, making him gulp.
"Jason, can we pause for like two seconds and talk about this," Y/N started, his eyes wide and staring at the man's naked torso, "We can't just-"
"Y/N, take your clothes off, or I'll do it myself," Jason growled, his eyes staring intensely at the Omega, the feral look and the slight glow of his green irises made the Omega shudder.
"You wouldn't dare," Y/N challenged.
"Try me."
Before Y/N could argue or say anything, the Alpha was on top of him, his fingers gripping his shirt and tearing the fabric, a rip echoing through the room. While Y/N was still shocked by the surprise move, he grabbed the ripped shirt and used it to tie the Omega's hands together, keeping him from pushing him away.
"Jason, what the absolute fuck?" Y/N asked, trying and failing to break free of the Alpha's restraints, his wrists and forearms tied tightly together, the shirt acting as a makeshift rope.
Any other person and Y/N would've been able to break out of that makeshift bondage before they could even blink. Jason on the other hand was trained by Batman. He'd doubt if he could get out of this shit by the time the sun came up.
"What? It's not like you're not gonna throw it out anyway," Jason answered, not stopping his movement as he removed the rest of the Omega's clothes, ripping his pants off and leaving him in just his underwear.
"You're a real piece of work, you know that, you bastard?" Y/N spat, not liking the feeling of him not being in control in this situation.
"So I've been told. Now, are you gonna be good and do what I tell you, or are you gonna fight me the whole time?" Jason asked, leaning over the Omega.
"You've got a lotta nerve coming in here and bossing me around, you little shit, especially after you ghosted and ignored me all this week," Y/N spat, glaring up at the Alpha.
"Yeah, I'll apologize for that later," Jason said, leaning his face down and burying his nose into the crook of the Omega's neck.
"You bet your ass you will. And, stop smelling me," Y/N protested, trying to pull his neck away.
"Shut up, I'm trying to focus," Jason grunted, his teeth biting the skin of the Omega's throat.
"Not until you explain what the hell is going on with you," Y/N responded his neck closing, preventing the Alpha from more access to his skin.
Jason's lips curled up into a snarl, the green in his eyes flashing before his tongue darted out, licking a stripe across the Omega's closed neck, the action pulling a gasp from him.
"Dammit, Y/N, just shut the fuck up and let me think," Jason growled, his hand running along the side of the Omega's body, his nails grazing the skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake.
"Think?! Think about what, you big oaf? How you came in here after disappearing on me for a week and expecting me to just let you fuck me because you're in your rut? Or, how you're gonna get yourself arrested when someone hears the neighbors getting dicked down?" Y/N replied, trying and failing to ignore the shivers that were going down his spine.
"Would you stop worrying about stupid shit and focus on me," Jason demanded, his hand gripping the Omega's jaw, turning his head and forcing him to look at him, his eyes shining in the dim light of the room, "I've gone through a week of pure fucking hell, and I'm not about to have you ruin the one relief I have right now."
"Relief?! You're lucky you were smart enough to restrain me because if you didn't, I'd be tearing your ass a new one right now," Y/N sneered, his anger rising.
"Good luck with that," Jason chuckled, his knee rubbing the inside of the Omega's thigh.
"Don't touch me, you jerk," Y/N said, trying to close his legs.
"Don't fight me, Y/N," Jason growled, his nails digging into the skin of the smaller male's jaw, his teeth clenching, "I've been locked in my apartment for almost a week, jerking my dick and using a pocket pussy, and none of it's been satisfying. If you keep fighting me, I'm not gonna be so nice."
"You've been masturbating for a week and nothing is helping?" Y/N questioned, his eyes wide.
"It's not enough," Jason answered, his nose nuzzling the crook of the Omega's neck, his teeth grazing the skin, his hot breath hitting his pulse point, "Nothing is enough."
Y/N took a moment to pause, assessing everything around him and giving his anger and attitude a few seconds to simmer down before this got more out of control than it needed to. Jason never acted this aggressively towards him, and at first, he thought it was because he was rutting. But, thinking of some of his other friends who were Alphas, he never remembered them going this far, acting like a completely different person who didn't care about the other person's wishes. And he knew that was far from the Alpha in front of him and his regular behavior.
As far as he could ever think, Jason would never do anything to hurt Y/N or push him into something he didn't want to do. He could be a bit protective at times, not wanting the Omega to get hurt or come into contact with any danger. And, he could also be a bit of a flirt when he was comfortable, constantly teasing him and saying suggestive comments. But, the fact that he was currently holding him down and threatening him, even being in his rut was concerning.
"Jason, when was the last time you had a rut?"
"Almost a month ago," Jason murmured, nuzzling his face against the jaw and neck, making his way down to his chest while his hand softly caressed his body.
"And did you have someone to help you through it?" Y/N asked, his eyes narrowing slightly.
"No," Jason replied.
"Why not? Didn't you have anyone else who could help you through it?" Y/N probed further.
"Didn't want to risk it with anyone. So, I dealt with it on my own," Jason explained, his teeth biting and sucking the skin of the Omega's collarbone, leaving small hickeys.
"And how long have you been dealing with it on your own?"
There was a moment of silence as Y/N felt the kisses and bites to his skin pause for a second. Then, he heard a soft grunt, and the kisses and bites continued.
"How long, Jason?" Y/N pressed.
"A while."
"Be more specific."
"I don't fucking know, alright? Almost 3 years, maybe more," Jason snapped, his nails suddenly digging into the flesh of the Omega's sides, pulling him against the Alpha.
"Jason! Three years?! Do you know how dangerous that is?" Y/N cried, looking at the Alpha with wide eyes.
"Of course I do, idiot. But, it's not like there are many options for an Alpha vigilante who's supposed to be dead," Jason grumbled, his tone laced with a hint of sadness.
"Then, why didn't you ask Bruce for help? Couldn't he have gotten one of his doctor friends to prescribe you some Feromexin or Feromine-X to help with the ruts?" Y/N argued, not understanding the Alpha's decision.
Jason raised an eyebrow at the Omega's question, feeling a spike of anger at the implication of his words.
"How do you know about the suppressants for Alphas? You been fucking another Alpha or something, sweetheart?" Jason growled, the slight tint of green in his eyes seemingly flaring up.
"No, dumbass. I have friends and family who are Alphas, and I did some research on the internet," Y/N answered, not liking the tone the Alpha was using.
"Why were you doing research, huh?" Jason hummed, his grip on the Omega's waist loosening, his hands moving to grab the Omega's ass, his fingers kneading the cheeks, a moan escaping the Omega's mouth, "Did you find something you liked, baby?"
"Jason, for the love of God, focus damnit! Answer my question," Y/N almost snapped, which was very unlike him.
"Oh, my fucking god. I don't know, okay! They don't work for me anymore," Jason yelled, his voice rising.
"What do you mean they don't work for you anymore? What did you take?"
"Feromine-X. And, I mean, they've just stopped working. After I was resurrected, I guess, my ruts have just gotten stronger, and the suppressants don't do shit for me," Jason explained, his voice becoming more agitated.
"Why didn't you say anything? Why didn't you go to Bruce for help? Or Dick, or Alfred, or anyone?"
"Because I don't want their damn pity, okay. It's bad enough I'm the 'dead Robin', but now I can't even handle my ruts like a normal Alpha and have to depend on everyone else for help. I don't want others having to take care of me, and I especially don't need it," Jason growled, his hands gripping the Omega's thighs, his nails digging into the skin, his teeth clenching as his anger rose.
"But, I like taking care of you," Y/N murmured.
Jason's gaze immediately softened, his eyes staring at the Omega's, his lips falling open.
"What?"
"I like taking care of you. Whenever you'd come to me, needing stitches or painkillers, or when you'd just show up and we'd hang out, I didn't mind. I always wanted to help. I like spending time with you, and I wanted to make sure you're okay and safe. You could've come to me for help if this was really affecting you so badly," Y/N answered.
"Y/N, I can't ask you to do that. This isn't your responsibility," Jason said, his grip on the Omega's wrists and his thighs loosening.
"Um, considering the way you kind of barged in here, basically abducted me to my room and how I'm sitting here tied up by the tattered remains of my own shirt, I'd kinda say you basically almost made it my responsibility so...I mean, I'm just saying," Y/N said.
Jason stared at him for a moment before chuckling, his shoulders shaking.
"Why do you always have to go and make me feel like an idiot?" Jason laughed, his hands gently rubbing the Omega's thighs.
"Because it's what I do best," Y/N teased, a small smile coming to his lips.
"God, I missed you," Jason said, his arms wrapping around the Omega and his face burying itself in the crook of his neck.
"Missed you too, pasty," Y/N cooed, his hands rubbing the Alpha's back.
"Why you gotta bring my skin color into this again," Jason grumbled, his fingers pinching at the Omega's side in retaliation.
"Hey, don't take it out on my melanin, white boy," Y/N giggled, squirming underneath him.
"You're such a brat," Jason growled, his teeth nipping at the Omega's throat.
"And you're a big jerk."
"I'll give you a big jerk," Jason muttered, his hips grinding against the Omega's, his cock pressing against the Omega's clothed and wet privates, "So, you still willing to help me through my rut?"
"Hmm, well, you're not exactly my type of white boy," Y/N joked, pretending to scan the Alpha up and down.
Jason gave him a warning growl, his teeth giving a harsh bite to the Omega's shoulder.
"Fuck, okay, yes, I'll help," Y/N whimpered, feeling his slick still wetting his underwear and now his sheets under him.
"That's what I thought," Jason smirked, his hands gripping the Omega's waist and bringing him into his grasp, his face diving back into the crook of his neck.
"Ah! On one condition, though," Y/N conceded.
Jason paused with an agitated huff, his aggressiveness returning slowly as he felt himself finally getting closer to getting what his body was craving, "Name it."
"You tell me when you're in trouble, and you don't keep things from me. You keep me in the loop and let me take care of you when needed," Y/N told him, his eyes serious.
"Fine. But, that goes both ways. You're not allowed to hide things from me, and you can't keep shit from me. Understand, brat?" Jason negotiated.
"Yes, massa," Y/N teased, leaning up and nuzzling the Alpha's cheek, a purr rumbling in his throat.
"Smartass. Now, can we please fuck?" Jason asked, his patience growing thin.
"Yeah, yeah. Go ahead. Just remember, be gentle, okay," Y/N chuckled.
"Hah, after calling me white boy and massa? No, no. You deserve whatever you're gonna get," Jason grinned, his hands slipping between the Omega's thighs, spreading them, and rubbing the soaked spot of his underwear.
"Ah fuck. Well, can you at least untie me?" Y/N moaned, his head falling back onto the bed, his legs twitching.
"Nah, I kind of like having you helpless and unable to fight back," Jason smirked, his teeth biting the hem of the Omega's underwear and ripping it off him, leaving him bare.
"Asshole."
"But, you still love me," Jason cooed, his hand caressing the Omega's body.
"Maybe a little," Y/N admitted, his heart rate speeding up.
"Good. Now, shut up and don't move," Jason ordered.
Jason pressed his face between the Omega's legs, getting a full whiff of the natural scent that came off him, a deep, sweet but light musky scent. His tongue darted out, licking a stripe along the folds of the Omega's opening, the taste of his slick on his tongue making him groan.
Y/N moaned and tensed up, his hands moving up to grip the pillow behind him. He'd had sex plenty of times, but this was different. The number of times Y/N had woken up from a wet dream that detailed this kind of moment between him and the vigilante was countless, and the fact that it was now becoming a reality was adding to the euphoric feelings starting to overwhelm his mind and body
Jason's tongue circled around the Omega's entrance, teasing him. He felt a wave of possessiveness come over him as his hands grabbed beneath the bend of the smaller man's knees to push his legs up, further exposing his shiny. slick-covered hole to him.
Pressing his nose against the entrance again, he took a small whiff before attaching his lips to the wet organ and pushing his tongue inside. Both men released filthy noises as Jason all but devoured the smaller man in front of him, inside and out.
"Jason, fuck!" Y/N cursed, his hands flying down and his fingers tangling in the Alpha's hair.
Jason growled, his hand reaching up and grabbing the smaller man's wrists from his hair, pinning them down against his stomach. He pulled away to look at the Omega through the gap between his spread thighs.
"I told you to stay still," Jason growled.
"Sorry, sorry. I'll be good, promise," Y/N whimpered, his chest heaving.
"You better," Jason warned, his grip tightening around the Omega's wrist before releasing and returning to his task, "Keep these here."
Jason's tongue plunged back into the Omega's core, his mouth sucking and slurping at the slick and its addictive taste. He continued eating out the sensitive and twitching hole, his tongue grazing across the hot walls and his pleasure crux.
He moved his hand up to where he was lapping at the hole, slick dripping from his chin as he prodded a finger around the entrance before slowly pushing the digit inside. Y/N squirmed at the tickling sensation while doing his best to remain still, even though another side of him desperately wanted to misbehave and poke at the Alpha's patience.
Jason pushed his finger inside, the wet muscle coating his finger and making it easy for him to press his middle finger inside. His tongue licked around his finger as he roughly pumped it in and out, barely giving any time for him to adjust before adding a second finger.
"Jason, oh, shit. Wait, wait, slow down," Y/N panted, his head tossing and turning, his fingers pulling at his own hair.
Jason ignored his pleas, his fingers stretching and curling inside the Omega, scissoring and opening him up. Y/N's whimpers and cries were going straight to his dick, the sound music to his ears.
"Shit, ah fuck! Jason, you're going too fast."
Y/N cried out as he felt a third finger enter him, the stretch burning slightly. Jason continued his movements, moving his mouth away completely as he opted to watch the Omega squirm on his fingers with a prideful look.
"Stop looking at me like that," Y/N whined, his face blushing red as he unconsciously tried to close his legs which did not go unnoticed by the vigilante. He didn't take kindly to the Omega giving him orders, curling his fingers inside and delivering some harsh movements that managed to hit his pleasure spot, causing him to cry out.
"I'll look at you any way I want to," Jason said, his eyes roaming the Omega's body before he suddenly paused his movements.
Y/N looked up in confusion before gasping at the suddenly empty feeling, Jason removing his fingers before grabbing at his still-tied wrists. He looked up to the Alpha who was staring down at him with an intense look that had him nervously fidgeting on the bed.
"Wanna keep acting like a brat, fine. I'll treat you like one then," Jason declared.
The vigilante untied the tattered shirts from around Y/N's arms, giving him only a split second of freedom before he flipped him over roughly, placing a harsh slap on his bottom that had him crying out. He grabbed the smaller male's arms again, this time folding them behind his back and tying the shirt around them in a tight hold while the Omega softly whimpered against the sheets from the rough manhandling.
He could feel his hole still dripping as he listened to the sounds of zippers and clothes rustling, his anticipation and anxiety rising.
"Jason, what are you–"
"Quiet," Jason ordered, his voice low.
"But-"
"I said, quiet dammit," Jason repeated, his hand landing another slap on his ass, the sting shooting straight through his spine.
Y/N gasped at the sting, doing his best to hold back the tears starting to pool in his eyes before he felt the Alpha grabbing him and pulling him off the bed, placing him on his knees on the floor in front of him.
Jason stood before him in his full naked glory, the sight causing his mouth to water. He wasn't a stranger to seeing the Alpha's body, considering he'd spent a considerable amount of time patching up his various wounds multiple nights in a row. But, this was the first time he'd been able to see his whole body. And, was it a sight to behold.
Jason was a big man, and his dick was no exception.
The enlarged organ definitely looked like it could do some damage, with a considerable length and a girth that had his insides fluttering in anticipation or fear. Possibly both. Actually, very likely it was both.
It was a wonder how the Alpha was able to hide that thing, especially underneath his skin-tight vigilante suit, or how anyone could handle having him inside. He knew Alphas' cocks tended to grow in size during ruts, but this was something else.
"Oh fuck–" Y/N muttered, his arousal spiking which the rutting Alpha picked up on if the jump in his throbbing dick was any indication.
"Open your mouth," Jason ordered, his hands running through the Omega's hair.
"Fuck, Jason. I don't think–"
"Did I ask what you think or did I tell you to open your mouth?" Jason gripped the Omega's hair that was now uncovered from the durag slipping off while Jason fingered him.
He pulled the Omega's head back, before grabbing his penis with his other hand, tapping it against the Omega's mouth, smearing the leaking pre-cum over his lips.
"I said, open up," Jason said, the tone in his voice signaling this was the Omega's last chance before the Alpha did it for him.
Y/N hesitated for a moment, looking up at the Alpha. He prayed that his past few experiences would be able to match up to this, but he didn't have much time to prepare himself before Jason took it upon himself to force the Omega's mouth open, giving the cockhead the opening it needed to enter the wet cavern.
"Fucking little brat, clearly we need to work on your ability to listen to orders," Jason grunted, his hips jerking forward and his dick pushing deeper into the Omega's mouth.
Y/N let out a muffled cry, his hands twitching and his fingers gripping his forearm, trying his hardest to ignore the tears that were now freely streaming down his face. Jason gave a few experimental thrusts while his hands held the Omega's head still, the tip of his penis already pressing against the back of his throat.
The Omega could feel how much his lips were stretched from just the little few inches he had inside. It was almost a wonder how his jaw wasn't aching. But, that wasn't a luxury he had as the Alpha started to pick up the pace, the force of his thrusts pushing more of his cock down the Omega's throat.
Y/N's eyes widened, his vision blurring from the tears, and his eyes rolling back into his skull, his mind focusing only on the thick cock currently fucking his throat and the lack of air entering his lungs. He could feel the pressure and pain in his jaw increasing, his mouth being used like a fleshlight for the Alpha's pleasure.
Jason's animalistic grunts along with Y/N's choking and gagging noise filled up the room as the vigilante had his way with the smaller man. Y/N's instincts were to try and push back against the muscular hips thrusting into his mouth, but, once again the Alpha was a few steps ahead of him as his arms struggled in their binds behind his back, leaving him no other choice but to sit there and receive the aggressive and brutal treatment.
Jason was losing himself in the pleasure, the Omega's tight and wet mouth and throat feeling heavenly around his cock. He'd been dreaming about this for so long, and he wasn't going to hold back.
After a week of hell alone in his room with his hand and cheap fleshlights, he was finally getting the relief he needed. Now, all that was left was for him to get his knot inside the Omega and truly relieve his pain.
The Alpha looked over into the large mirror the Omega kept in his room, watching the bound smaller man sitting on his knees for his body, helpless against the Alpha's stronghold and cock. His Alpha pride was skyrocketing through the roof.
After just a few more minutes, he removed his dick from the Omega's mouth, the puffy, swollen red state of his lips leaving a satisfied and smug smirk on the Alpha. He leaned down and grabbed the Omega under his shoulder before throwing and slamming him down on the bed, forcing his legs apart again.
Y/N let out a choked gasp as the wind was knocked out of him. His face was a mess, with tear tracks running down his face, his jaw aching from the rough mouth-fucking he just received.
He heard the Alpha rummaging through the bedside table, his hands blindly searching the contents before finding the packet he was looking for, before suddenly giving an accusing look.
"Why do you have a knot condom?" Jason asked, his voice gruff.
Y/N recognized the possessive and slightly angry look that was common in all Alphas, cursing on the inside of his head. He'd forgotten that was in his nightstand.
"Um...that's, uh, a funny story," Y/N chuckled nervously, his heart rate speeding up.
"You fucked another Alpha during his rut?" Jason growled.
"Yes, but it was with one of my past flings," Y/N admitted with a nervous tone, "We were never serious, but he asked me to help and I agreed."
It was silent for a moment as the vigilante stared him down, his gaze dark and dangerous, his eyes narrowed on the Omega. Y/N's mind raced, hoping the Alpha wouldn't get too angry, knowing how much their ruts could drive up their territorial attitudes.
"How many times?"
"Huh?" Y/N replied, confused.
"How many times did you let him knot you," Jason repeated his grip on the condom's package tightening.
"I don't know. It was a rut! How am I supposed to remember how many times we did it," Y/N responded, his own irritation starting to grow.
"Were they his condoms or did you buy them?" Jason questioned, his eyes narrowing.
"His. I made him buy extra in case we ran out."
Jason was silent for another moment, taking another look at the open drawer before turning back to Y/N with a daunting expression.
"This is the only one left, so it looks like you went at it a few times. Guess that means I've got a lot of work cut out for me," Jason tore the package open and slipped the latex rubber over his penis, "And since it's the last one and only one you have, well, I hope you're suppressants have the added birth control," He said before getting on the bed and pulling the Omega towards him by his legs.
"Jason, you better be fucking joking. You didn't bring any extra condoms?" Y/N demanded, his eyes widening.
"Most don't fit me anymore since my dick grew a little more, let's hope this one is up for the job," Jason smirked while positioning himself at the Omega's entrance.
"Jason Peter Todd, I fucking swear if you knock me up–"
"Ah, quit your whining," Jason interrupted, pushing the head of his dick against the Omega's fluttering hole, the slick already coating the covered organ, "It's not like we don't have other options. Accidents happen all the time."
"Screw you, asshole," Y/N groaned, his teeth clenched.
"Oh, sweetheart, I'm gonna do so much more than that," Jason grinned, his hands gripping the Omega's waist and his hips shoving forward.
Y/N cried out, his arms straining and his legs tensing as his body flailed underneath the Alpha's massive frame from the intense stretching he felt as his hole and walls tried to adjust and push out the intruding cock. His body arched into Jason's chest as the Alpha's dark head of hair nudged its way into the Omega's neck, his lips kissing at the juncture between his shoulder and neck.
Jason wasn't that quiet or still either, his body shaking and his breath stuttering from the euphoric feeling of the Omega's hot, tight walls wrapped around his cock. Even through the rubber, the wet heat around him had him desperately wanting to rip the condom off so he could feel the full flesh surrounding him.
"Shit, you're so fucking tight. Gonna ruin you for anyone else," Jason growled, his hips slowly pushing more into the Omega's while biting and sucking the sensitive skin.
"Ah, ah, J-Jason, wait," Y/N gasped, his head tossed back, his chest heaving, his body squirming from the uncomfortable and painful stretch.
"Fuck, just shut up," Jason grumbled, his hands wrapping around the Omega's neck and gripping his hair while moving to press his lips against Y/N's in a rough kiss.
He pushed himself more into the Omega, the latex-covered tip of his cock grazing past the Y/N's prostate as he whimpered and cried into the kiss, his feet pressing into the bed as the intense feeling of his body stretching around the Alpha started to overwhelm him.
Whoever once tried to say the big and massive guys had small penises clearly had not met Jason before, or just didn't understand body proportions and anatomy. Either way, the throbbing and large organ currently trying to park itself inside the Omega was a strong testament to how wrong they were.
There was no possible way Y/N was going to be able to walk properly on his own legs after this. Jason was going to have to carry him for the next few days, which judging by earlier, he probably wouldn't have any issues with it.
"Oh god, fuck. You're so big, I can't," Y/N whined, his back arching as his arms and hands struggled against the binds.
"So I've been told," Jason whispered, his lips kissing the side of the Omega's head, "Am I bigger than him? Better?"
"Fuck yes," Y/N moaned, his eyes squeezing shut.
Jason held a cocky grin at this, feeling himself getting closer to bottoming out inside the Omega, "Good, 'cause you're not letting him or anyone else near you again. This belongs to me," He growled, flexing his dick inside the Omega pulling another whine from the smaller male.
"Ah, ah, no. Please, please," Y/N pleaded, his toes curling.
"Say it," Jason growled in his ear, jerking the hold he still had around his neck and in his hair.
"Belongs to you. No one else's, only you." Y/N babbled, his body twitching.
"Good boy," Jason cooed, his lips attaching themselves to the Omega's neck and sucking a hickey.
When Jason fully bottomed out, he paused his movements, his forehead resting against the Omega's shoulder. He took a deep breath, the scent of the Omega's sweat and natural pheromones overwhelming him.
Both had a light sheen of sweat over their bodies, Jason's from his spiking body temperatures and Y/N from the Alpha's body over him and the slight physical exertion he was going through. The Alpha's breathing was harsh, and his grip on the Omega tightened as he tried to keep himself in control.
Before long, Jason was pulling himself out, leaving just the tip inside before thrusting back in, earning a cry from the Omega beneath him.
"No, stop! Just, ah, give me a second," Y/N begged, his eyes shut tightly, his nails scratching and digging into the palms of his hands.
"Shut up," Jason growled, his nose nuzzling the crook of the Omega's neck.
The Alpha continued his movements, only increasing his pace and intensity, his hands squeezing around the Omega's neck as his hips snapped into him. Jason's grunts and Y/N's moans and cries filled the room, along with the sound of skin slapping against each other and the rattling of Y/N's bed frame.
Jason stared into Y/N's eyes with an intense focus as he pounded into him, the sight of the Omega's tear-stained face and pouty red lips increasing his drive even more. They hadn't been fucking more than five minutes, yet Y/N looked like his soul was ready to depart his body.
Jason knew his size and stamina could be a lot to take in, and the fact that Y/N was already a mess had him feeling a sense of pride and satisfaction. His eyes broke their hold with Y/N's raking down the rest of the Omega's body.
The Omega's smaller pecs were moving up and down with his body as Jason pressed more into him. He could tell the Omega was getting antsy by not being able to move his arms while being fucked within an inch of his life, adding even more to the Alpha's dominant ego.
A few minutes passed as Jason continuously rutted into the Omega, his fingers pressing into the Omega's neck more, slowly taking away his breath, which put the Alpha on a power high. After another few seconds, he paused his movements, taking a moment to catch his breath and release his hold so that the Omega could also have the chance to breathe in new air while pulling himself out.
"Turn your ass over," Jason instructed with a pat to the Omega's thigh.
"Geez, can you give me a sec," Y/N wheezed, his head tossing from side to side.
"Nope." Jason grabbed him by his waist and flipped him onto his stomach, forcing him on his hands and knees to present himself before the Alpha.
"Asswipe," Y/N mumbled into the sheets.
The Omega yelped when he received another slap on his sore ass, loud and sharp, the sting and burn shooting through his entire body.
"What was that?" Jason asked.
"Nothing," Y/N muttered, his voice low.
"That's what I thought," Jason said, his finger brushing down the curve of the Omega's spine, before positioning himself at the Omega's hole and showing himself back inside.
Y/N's face fell onto the bed with a scream at the force, the strength leaving his body as he moaned sheets as Jason pounded him from behind. His hole was spasming around the Alpha's cock, preparing itself for the inevitable knot that was going to enter into him soon.
Jason grabbed his ass cheeks, spreading them so he could better see his cock entering in and out of the Omega's wet and stretched hole. The sight of it gives him another ego boost, slapping the Omega's ass to signal his satisfaction while continuing to plow his insides.
Y/N continued crying and moaning into the bed, which Jason didn't quite appreciate. His mind was suddenly filled with the image of another random Alpha making his Omega scream and cry on their dick and knot in this very room for the neighbors and anyone else nearby to listen.
With that thought in mind, he leaned down to grab the Omega's hair, pulling him off the bed and against his body while keeping his thrusting in a steady rhythm. His other hands rubbed down the Omega's sweaty body before reaching down to stimulate him from the front, adding to his pleasure and increased cries.
"No hiding those sweet sounds from me, baby. In fact, you better scream louder so the whole damn neighborhood knows who you belong to," Jason growled, his hand tightening its hold on the Omega's hair.
Damn Alphas and their possessive ass attitudes. Y/N didn't even want to imagine the looks he was going to get from his neighbors if any of them could hear the two. The walls weren't that thick.
"You're gonna be my good little cum dump, aren't you," Jason grunted, his hand rubbing against the Omega's front while his hips slammed against his ass, "Gonna take my knot and everything else I got."
"Yes, Jason... oh fuck," Y/N gasped, his head thrown back.
They'd fucked like rabbits in that position for some time, Jason's stamina being no joke. But, as his knot started to grow, he was forced to flip the Omega back over onto his back, his thrusts becoming shorter and sharper.
Y/N had begun to squirm once again under the large Alpha, feeling the dick inside him start to swell even more. He could only hope it wouldn't actually tear him in half as so many other people liked to play around and say.
Careful what you wish for folks.
"Jason, oh fuck, for the love of– please, slow down," Y/N begged, his head tossing and turning, his bound arms straining.
"Can't, too close," Jason groaned, his thrusts picking up speed.
"I can't, fuck, please!" Y/N cried.
"Quiet," Jason's hand smacked against the Omega's mouth, muffling his voice, "Stop squirming. Stay the fuck still," He growled.
Y/N whined underneath the Alpha's palm, his body still twisting and struggling. Jason's body was covered in sweat as he pistoned in and out of the Omega rapidly, slowly losing his rhythm as he could feel his knot forming.
"You're gonna be all mine from now on, brat. Hope you were really serious about earlier, 'cause you're only gonna be taking care of me from now on," Jason declared, his teeth biting and nipping at the Omega's earlobe.
The harder Jason's thrusts became, the closer both he and the Omega began to near their release. The Alpha's hand once again found its way around the Omega's neck as he continued to muffle his noises while now taking his breath away.
"Take it, dammit," Jason grunted, his hand pushing the Omega's body further down into the bed.
Y/N's body shook and trembled, his legs shaking and his toes curled. A few seconds later, he was letting out a muffled scream as his body shook with release, slick mixed with his cum squirting from his body and around the Alpha's cock that was now just rutting into him as his knot was about to pop.
"Yeah, there you go," Jason groaned, his own hips stuttering as the Omega's orgasm brought him over the edge, "Shit, here it comes, baby. Take it, fuck, take it all," He growled, his hips slamming all the way in him.
Jason's body stilled, his knot fully expanded and his dick released a massive load of cum, filling the condom inside the Omega's body. His arms wrapped around the smaller male's waist, holding him close as he rode out his orgasm.
Y/N whimpered, his body shaking and twitching from the sensation of the knot filling him, his body feeling utterly exhausted but also saturated from the hard fuck he'd just received.
Jason held him still, his chest heaving and his forehead resting on the Omega's shoulder. Their bodies were a mess, their skin glistening in sweat, their limbs tangled, and their heavy breathing the only sounds heard in the room.
The vigilante felt slight exhaustion, but also an overwhelming amount of relief. The pain of his rut subsided after finally getting to knot an Omega.
Not just any Omega though, the Omega of his dreams.
It was crazy that after one crazy and rough fuck, your feelings could become so obvious. Jason was in love with Y/N and had been for a while. Just needed a little push to realize that.
Of course, this could also be the high amount of endorphins running through his body but let's go with the first one since it's more romantic.
The Alpha rolled the two of them onto their sides, careful not to cause any pain or discomfort, their bodies still tied together.
"How are you feeling?" Jason asked, his tone much softer and calmer compared to his previous demeanor.
"Sore," Y/N said, his voice hoarse.
"Sorry, guess I got a little carried away," Jason smiled sheepishly, his hand rubbing the Omega's cheek.
"Maybe just a tad bit," Y/N teased
"Shut up. Don't act like you didn't like it," Jason chuckled.
"Mmm, I never said I didn't like it," Y/N smirked, his eyes looking down to the swollen knot still firmly plugged inside him.
"Brat," Jason scoffed, his hand swiping at the Omega's side.
"Asshole," Y/N replied.
The two sat in silence, taking the moment to breathe and collect their thoughts, Jason's hands the smaller male's body.
"Jason," Y/N called, his gaze fixed on the ceiling.
"Hmm?" The Alpha hummed.
"I think the condom broke," Y/N informed, his eyes glancing toward the Alpha.
Jason's eyes widened, his hand moving down to the base of his penis where the knot was starting to shrink. The latex did not seem to have held up against the pressure of his knot, as he could see some unsettling stretches and tears at the base of the rubber around his dick.
"Fuck," Jason cursed.
"Yeah...welp, no better time to test the effectiveness of Omega birth control than now," Y/N commented.
"Y/N, I'm so sorry, I should've–"
"Hey, hey, calm down. It's okay. We're not exactly virgins here. I've had a few flings and I'm sure you have too. Accidents happen," Y/N reassured, paraphrasing Jason's words from earlier
"I guess," Jason muttered, still feeling slightly guilty.
"Jay, stop worrying. Like you said, there are other options. And besides, we've got more pressing things to be worried about," Y/N stated.
Jason gave the Omega a curious look, "Like what?"
"Like me having to draft a formal response to the black collective of how I let myself be colonized by a white man," Y/N deadpanned.
"Fuck off," Jason rolled his eyes.
"Are you, a white man, trying to silence a black voice? During Black History Month? I thought black lives mattered."
Jason gave the Omega an unimpressed look, "Y/N, it's April."
"Oh, so black history is only contained to one month?"
"You know, I really can't stand you sometimes," Jason said.
"But, you still love me," Y/N responded, once again mocking the Alpha's words.
Jason felt a smile coming over his face, leaning down to place a kiss against the smaller male's lips, "That I do."
Y/N smiled, not realizing the implication of Jason's words before both of their attentions were pulled to the jerking feeling down below. The Alpha's knot had released, but Jaon's dick was once again standing at attention, clearly ready for another round.
"Oh, you have got to be kidding me," Y/N groaned.
Jason smiled sheepishly at him, "Sorry, sweetheart. I'm in a rut, and I've got some makeup to do for lost time if I want to get it back to normal. Hope you didn't have any plans for tonight...or tomorrow."
"Fucking hell," Y/N huffed, his head falling back against the pillow.
"Well, can you at least untie me?" Y/N asked, gesturing to his still-bound arms.
"Hmm, nope," Jason denied.
"Fuck you," Y/N scowled.
"That's the plan."
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☀️ | Jason Todd/Red Hood | ☀️
☀️ | Masterlists | ☀️
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126 notes · View notes
cafecourage · 3 days
Note
Speaking of sleepy, caring for sleepy Chain
-Softie
We worked on this on stream long ago. I also made this also one bed. Part 1 has Time, Twilight, and Warriors
_____________
There was a common issue among some of the chain where most all of them have the fatal flaw of not being able to sleep. Some had issues waking up like Sky, Wind, Four and Wild. You quickly found that Legend was among that group but given the incident he went into the latter issue. Which was annoying when dealing with. It was completely opposite problems.
Time:
It was always hard to tell if the Old man was tired as he seemed to be always absolutely exhausted. Which was fair enough since he was dubbed the dad friend in the group thus making him the main person to go to for everything. It’s a wonder how he hasn’t just slept for 7 more years yet.
Still the Hero of Time was probably 3 days in without sleep and thats what you observed. Granted you should have stopped him by day 2. But you weren’t sure if he slept on the days you seen him take first shift and wake up with him being on last shift.
The other boy’s notice it too and while they all appreciate the extra sleep it’s unfair for Time. Warriors is typically the only one that speaks up about it since he isn’t phased by the Older Link’s tough exterior. While it would be embarrassing in hindsight you had to drag Warriors aside to push for you and Time to be in the same room. “I have a plan” is what you tell the captain not letting him know that you in fact, dont have a plan.
Truly the plan is fist fight the old man until he actually sleeps, or lecture him whatever you feel like. At least you will be here in town for a few days to gather supplies and information. So you can at least fix Time’s sleep schedule.
You’re plotting came to an extreme halt as you step into a room with one bed. “This can work.” You say out loud as you dropped your stuff in a corner of the room. “We can share the bed.” It’s not even up for debate at this point.
“Can we?” Time asks as he closes the door “wouldn’t that be uncomfortable?”
“Uncomfortable?” That wouldn’t be the word you would use. “Nah. Unless it makes you uncomfortable. Then I can take the floor.”
The hero gives you a look, one to even dare you to say that again. “If you don’t mind, then I don’t see why fight over it.”
“It I am being real.” You stand up and stretched “you do need it more.” It has been decided. You are lecturing him. “When is the last time you slept a full 8 hours? Heck 6 hours I would accept.”
An eyebrow was raised as he heads inside “I have been fine with the sleep I’ve been getting.” He takes his armor off putting each piece down carefully before finally sitting on the bed. He pats the spot next to him.
You follow his lead as you prepare a long argument. “Ah, yes the zero hou- Ack!” What you didn’t expect was Time to drag you into his lap and lay down.
Your face exploded in a blush as you were now basically his teddy bear. “Don’t you think I haven’t noticed you also have trouble sleeping.” He whispered as he was already in the process of wrapping the both of you in the blankets. “Let’s take a nap for now…”
Well… This backfired successfully.
Twilight:
Twilight was one of these Links which, made sense but also didn’t when you found this out. He tries to older brother everyone, he makes sure everyone is asleep before he does. Which takes forever to do and your patience for this man is thinning.
After stopping in a town from a long trek. The group decides to go to the Inn to set up shop. You were already on Twilight to take a nap before dinner. “No. We are going to eat in like 30 minutes.”
Ok.
No.
He isn’t getting out of this and you don’t care you’re in the middle of the lobby. There was something that the chain has yet to learn about you.
You might be short.
But you are strong.
So you marched up to Twilight and despite his struggling you throw the hero over your shoulder and went directly to the room angrily. “Let me down!” Twilight demands of you. However you couldn’t care about it as you open the door kick it close and threw him on the bed. “That was unnecessary.” He said getting up.
“It was very necessary!” You argued back crossing your arms. “When is the last time you properly slept?”
Twilight stays quiet and looks away. He looked like a kicked puppy. “I get enough.”
“According to who? Because everyone else can make an argument that you’re barely getting any to function.” You let out a huff as you should probably be more lenient with him because it’s not really like he is doing something bad. You know from experience that the body could function with little sleep if it’s used to it but it’s not healthy! You didn’t go through classes with a clear mind but you should have! “We are just worried about you.”
The Hero stays quiet but sighs “ok. I understand.” He seems to give up at this point. But he reaches out to take your hand finally letting himself looked exhausted “but… can you stay with me?”
Your eyes soften as he seemed to be more tired than you thought. “Of course I will. Someone has to make sure you stay put.” He teases you.
Warriors: 
After a long day of traveling an inn was a welcoming sight. Since there were ten of you now each room had to have 2 people. Which was sometimes unfortunate for some, but for you in this current moment?
You couldn’t ask for a better opportunity since you (forcably) asked to be Warrior’s pair, only to have there only be one bed. 
Perfect.
Wonderful.
Amazing.
It was instant that you had grabbed Warriors tunic and almost thrown him on to the bed. “Didn’t know you wanted me on the bed that badly, doll.” He was laughing. This man was laughing and he looked like hell. Probably felt like it too as the ever polished captain was showing dark circles under his eyes. His smile was sluggish and his eyes weren’t as sharp as they normally were.
“Very funny.” You rolled your eyes as you headed towards him again to help him out of his armor. “You should take better care of yourself. 3 days of barely any sleep? What were you thinking?!”
“That the other boys need some sleep.” There was no hesitation as the stubborn man is proud of himself for killing his sleep schedule. “It’s fine.” “It is not fine.” You didn’t mean to throw his shoulder plate on the carpet. “You better take your chainmail off before I do it for you.”
“What if I rather you do it for me?” The captain fire back without missing a beat. Instantly his face paled “wait-“
“Nope to late come here.” You take his tunic and just… thew it off of him. “Do you want to continue?” This was a threat.
“no…” Warriors voice was silent as he finally got out of what armor he had left. “I should sleep on the floo-“ that suggestion was instantly silent as you glared at him.
Finally when both of you were ready for bed you had put your self on top of him. Cuddling but also if he was going to escape he will have to wake you up first. “this is so you don’t escape.” You said.
“I wont. I wont.” Warriors was a bit hesitant to wrap his arms around you “Thank you.” He whispered as he finally started to relaxed.
“Don’t rely on me to fix your sleep habits.” You said poking his cheek “good night Captain.”
“Good Night Sweetheart.”
61 notes · View notes
five-rivers · 3 days
Text
timer
@echoghost1 @everfascinated
.
It hovered over the surface of the portal, clearly separate from it.  A large, flat, disk shape, with a pale, luminous face.  More vivid numbers circled the edge, painted neatly.  A single, delicate, metal hand pointed towards the number seven, on the left side of the clock.  It had been pointing there for the past hour or so, ever since it had been noticed.  
Maddie drummed her fingers on the workbench she stood next to.  The timer - because what else could it be? - was, thus far, a mystery to her.  Usually, Maddie liked mysteries.  Exploring the mysteries of the Ghost Zone had been the reason they had built the portal in the first place.  This mystery was fascinating, and Maddie was excited about it, but it was also incredibly troubling.  
Obviously, the timer - hovering, green, immovable - was ghostly in origin.  What else could it be?  But how did a ghost place get in here to place it?  For what purpose?  How much time was left?  What was it counting down to?  It couldn’t be anything good.  Ghosts had no love for her family or their works.  
As soon as she’d noticed it, she and Jack had started taking readings, but nothing they did gave them anything conclusive, or any way to get rid of the thing.  
It was frustrating and troubling.  Frustrating and troubling.  
“Uh, Mom?  Dad?  It’s six and we were wondering if you wanted us to order dinner or anything…”
Maddie looked up to see Danny coming down the stairs.  
“Oh, sure!” said Jack.  “Pizza sounds great, son!”
“Yeah.  What are you even– What’s that?”  
Danny stared wide-eyed at the timer for a long moment, and Maddie moved to reassure him.  Danny was always so timid around ghosts, so afraid.  This timer was doubtlessly malevolent, but she and Jack wouldn’t let it do anything to Danny.  
Briefly, Danny’s eyes gleamed green.  Then, slowly, but inevitably, he collapsed.
Maddie leaped forward, keeping Danny from hitting his head on the bottom step by the narrowest of margins.  “Jack!”  
“What happened?” he asked, hurrying over.  “Danny?  Danny?  Talk to me, son!  Can you hear me?”
Danny’s eyes fluttered open briefly, overly reflective, then shut again.
“I’m setting up the quarantine booth,” said Maddie.  “Will you carry him?”
Jack nodded, grimly.  
They’d gotten the quarantine booth set up after Vlad’s unfortunate recurrence of ecto-acne and the revelation that ecto-acne could be contagious under certain circumstances.  It was sealed, filtered, protected, shielded.  Every precaution they could think of had gone into it. 
… and, yes, they should use those precautions more often, but Maddie and Jack loved getting up close and personal with the subjects of study.  
“We need to get that thing shielded,” said Jack as he set Danny on the bed.  He rushed out towards the timer and started setting up shield projectors around the portal.  
Maddie, meanwhile, pulled the medical scanner free from the ceiling.  Well, ‘medical scanner’ was a very sci-fi way of putting it, when really it was quite prosaic, if you knew how it worked.
She positioned it over Danny’s body and set it to taking data. 
Temperature, low, heart rate, low, bones, intact, nervous system… that part of the scanner didn’t work all that well, ignore that reading…  
Ectoplasm levels were off the charts.  
Maddie inhaled deeply.  Stay calm, stay calm.  They would fix this.  They’d cured Vlad and Danny’s friends, they could cure this, whatever it was.  They would get rid of that timer and they’d save Danny.  
“Mom?” said Danny, weakly.  
“Hey, sweetie,” said Maddie.  “How are you feeling?”  
“Bad,” said Danny.  He tried to sit up, but Maddie pushed him back down.  “What’s happening?”
“You collapsed suddenly,” said Maddie.  “We’re trying to figure out why.”
Danny raised one hand to his face.  Green light reflected off his hand.  Understanding flicked over his features.  
“Okay, but I think I’m feeling better, now,” he said.  He tried to sit up again.  
“We need to figure out what happened before you go running around,” said Maddie, pushing him down again.  She looked over at Jack, through the thick, transparent sides of the quarantine booth.  Jack was now trying to throw a towel over the timer and–
Wait a moment.  
“Stay down,” she told Danny.  “Let the scanner do its job.”  She walked out of the quarantine booth.  “Wait, Jack, wait.”
“But we have to keep it from affecting Danny.  We don’t know if its effect is visual or what.”
“I know, I know,” said Maddie.  “But look at it.  Look at the hand.”
The hand, which had been pointing at the number seven, was now pointing at the number six.  
Jack scowled at the timer and tried to throw the towel over it again.  The towel passed through it.  “Are we sure this is a timer, Mads?  Maybe the numbers are counting down charges or something like that.”
“I don’t know, it still looks more like a timer to me.”
“But why did it affect Danny like that?” 
“I don’t know.  We need to start decontamination procedures right away, though.  His ectoplasm levels are off the charts.  The sudden spike is probably what made him collapse, but I don’t know how this could have increased his ectoplasm levels so much so quickly.”
I don’t know either,” said Jack.  He picked up the latest version of the Fenton Finder (which incidentally, still detected Danny more often than not) and shook it.  “None of the detectors we have pointed at it picked up anything.  Nothing going towards Danny, nothing ambient, nothing anywhere else.”
Maddie had hoped that their detectors had picked something up, but with the continued failures of the Fenton Finder, maybe she shouldn’t be so surprised.  
“We’ll keep looking,” said Maddie.  She was forgetting something.  What was she forgetting?  “Jazz.  We need to tell Jazz, so she doesn’t come down here.  What if it only affects minors?”
“Righto,” said Jack, shoving the Finder at Maddie.  “I’ll do that, you start the decontam procedures!”
Maddie nodded tightly and turned back to Danny.  She could see his eyes gleaming from here.But they could fix this. 
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gargusscp · 1 day
Text
When She Was Just-
(More fanfic of @zal-cryptid's Misfits in Toyland comic. Contains size stuff, so reader beware.)
“So you just sit on down, get yourself comfy, and I’ll be right back to start our playdate!”
Easier said than done, Beau thought to herself, squirming on the spot for a decent position on the couch as Dolly flop-skipped out the room, singing a tuneless babble.  If Toyland had one notable disadvantage - once you exhausted the obvious grievances with losing your old life and existing as a plaything for probably all eternity - it was the lack of halfway decent furniture. Chairs and beds made to fit a doll weren’t exactly designed with human comforts in mind.  Little give to their rigid wood and plastic frames, cushioning a sliver-thin strip of foam at best, too often ever so slightly disproportionate for all except one user.  Beau herself could hardly roll half a turn either way in her own bed without risking falling out, let alone find a non-cramped spot on Dolly’s ratty wool sofa.
Granted, Beau took issue with her proportions in nearly all matters.  A porcelain-figurine of a shepherdess, she towered over most other folk in Toyland.  The Barbie doll down the lane claimed she felt no perspective different at twelve inches from her 5’6” human height; Beau, once 4’11”, felt quite the substantial difference at eighteen.  That Barbie girl barely measured to the bottom of Beau’s chest.  Her life as a vanishing slip ended the day she kicked her way from her arrival box and felt the dimensions of her new form , a figurine sculpted for detail over function, garbed in a needlessly voluminous lace gown triple her natural width.  Actions major and minor all the day came with overbearing reminder she was, all told, huge.
Waking in the morning?  Bumps and bonks reaffirming her playset of a home was hastily retro-fitted to just barely accommodate her bulk.  Passing other toys in the public square?  Snickers about her heavy trod and long shadow.   Chatting with friends after a day in the fields?  Oh God, how her voice so easily overwhelms the group.
One such chat started her path to this damnably undersized couch, why oh why won’t her dress gather without bunching and bulging in the small of her back?  “You seem real tense lately, Beau.”  “You spend too much time tending your flock, Beau.”  “I didn’t know you could micromanage sheep.”  They had a point, she did feel wound up, and without any mechanism to blame.  Absolutely nothing to do with her work, they simply didn’t understand how much it meant to her, but a point on the mark is a point on the mark.  Even so, she felt reticent about visiting Dolly when the subject inspired some… less than altogether pure remarks.  “Oh, a playdate with Dolly is just what you need, big girl!”  “Yeah, I hear she’s got the magic touch, pushes all your buttons if you got ‘em.”  “I dunnow, seems more adventurous than Beau’s used to.”
She sulked in her home for some hours after, twiddling the too-small business card in her spindly fingers, torn between offense at their implications and genuine curiosity.  The language Dolly used in advertising her services left anyone a smidgen past pure childhood innocence little room to ignore the barely-hidden meaning.  Chance was right, she generally wouldn’t entertain those sorta transactions.  On the other hand (flicking the card from one to the other), despite the crude jokes around “playing with Dolly,” the ragdoll seemed plenty friendly whenever Beau had occasion for brief exchanges to and from work, and those who did partake never so much as hinted at anything untoward.  Just the surface-level meaning any halfway literate could take from the text.
Which posed some trouble when Beau hoped the rumors were true.  Knew her frustrations ran deeper than simply too much time in the Arctic sun standing over sheep who, strictly speaking, needed no herding.  Wanted to come right out and ask for the weirdest sort of help resolving her deepest set issue with life in Toyland.  Yet if she guessed wrong, if Dolly’s play sessions were half so wholesome as suspected, there’d be zero chance of looking her straight in the button eye for a long time coming.  Beau felt flushed, but her skin remained its neutral painted shade as she fiddled and twiddled, thinking long into the night.
After a week’s protracted thought, Beau had worked a free afternoon into her schedule, left a note on Dolly’s doorstep announcing her visit and available hours, spent a sleepless night cursing the inventor of packing foam, and squeezed into Dolly’s residence at the appointed time.  The way she figured, best to play it cool, wend her way to the point roundabout as she can manage, and hope against hope Dolly gets the idea, and moreover, approves.  If not… well, running away isn’t exactly difficult at her size.  Though she may crack a doorframe or two in the rush.
So she sat, or rather shifted and bounced in vain with sitting a fleeting incidental matter, trying to distract herself from a welling panic in her breast by focusing on the details of Dolly’s foyer.  No need to run if she busied her eyes studying the cardboard cutout of a flame in the fireplace, crayon scribblings of yellows and oranges subtly shifting in a dance implying warmth she could not feel.  Why question her purpose in coming here when she could examine the conversation pieces on the coffee table, seemingly alphabet blocks with notably peeling paint and assorted accessories from mismatched doll lines chipped in odd places?  Oh God, this was a bad idea, but don’t think about that, think about the imitation-wood wallpaper, or the paper-printout throw rug in the corner, or the approaching sound of rags on smoothed balsa wood!
Beau templed her hands over her face, pinching her nose so hard she risked shattering it and index fingers alike.  You can do this, she thought, screwing her eyes shut.  Just ask like it’s the most normal thing in the world.
“Alrighty!  I’m… ready!  How ‘bout… you?”
She blinked, turned, and looked down.  Dolly shuffled backwards through the entryway, dragging a gallon-size ziplock full to bursting with cotton balls in her wake.  “Sorry I took my time!  Had to think’ve… something we could use for… sheep!” she beamed.  “Didn’t… phew… didn’t want to ask yours to come in!  Gotta keep things private, y’know!”
Funny the things you notice when forcing your thoughts away from undesired conclusions.  As Beau sat ramrod stiff, hands still hovering before her mouth, her gaze darted all over Dolly, taking in aspects of her person as substitute for the chant oh, Oh no, oh no no no, she really does just want to play at counting sheep, this is bad, get out, abort, abort!  The polished button eyes which twisted about and pressed on her face ever so slightly to distort the surrounding area into expressions.  The rosy patch circles on her cheeks Beau swore sometimes grew and shrank in size with Dolly’s mood.  The faded candystripe pattern of her burlap dress - shorter than her usual outfit, or just Beau’s imagination?  The… well, the slightness.  Dolly stood somewhat taller than most humanoid toyfolk (if still a few inches shy of Beau’s height), but being a cotton-stuffed ragdoll made her seem so insubstantial.  Hardly any klumphing from her step, a wavering quality to her gestures, so light that the occasional jostle when passing her could knock her several body lengths away.  Not a rigid or heavy thing about her.
“Sooooo…?”
Beau flinched.  She should probably say something.
“I’m… sure they wouldn’t mind, if you asked…”
“Naaaah, don’t be silly!”  Dolly waved off the notion, wrist bouncing every which way.  “I see you in the fields, acting all Miss Bossy Lady with ‘em, hardly having any fun!  All they’d do is get you doing that again!  Sure, if you wanna invite, I won’t say no, but as Toyland’s first ‘n’ best professional playmate, I gotta say you’re better off with THESE sheep today!”
She hefted an armful of cotton balls, cradling them back and forth while bleating, “Baaa!  Baaa!”
Beau coughed.  “Well, you know, I… it’s the right way of doing things.  A shepherd, well… she tends her flock and… makes sure they go where they need to…”
“Plus!”  Dolly scampered over and tugged at Beau’s voluminous dress folds, encouraging her to come over to the “flock.”  “Plus, I’ve heard you talkin’ all the time!  Who could miss it?  You’re usually SUPER confident and forward.  Don’t give anyone a turn until you’re done!  Being all ‘uh’ and ‘err’ and ‘well..’ ain’t like you!  Trust me, if you’re here and being Miss Hem Haw instead of Miss Bossy Lady, you NEED this!”
For her stature and composition, Dolly pulled surprisingly hard, prompting Beau to rise and at least begin hesitantly stepping towards the cotton pile, lest her dress tear under enthusiastic hands.  “Right, but the thing is… I don’t exactly w-”
“So!”  Dolly plopped herself down on the floor, busied beyond hearing with her ideas for the next few hours.  “We got your sheep here, right?  And you’ve got your you, and since you’re the shepherdess, you’re gonna do shepherdess things for them!  EXCEPT!  We aren’t gonna do your boring herding stuff, we’re gonna have fun!  Name the sheep, get to know them, let ‘em scamper around, jump some fences, do some counting, maybe a nap in the middle if it makes us sleepy!”
“Dolly…”
“That’s all for later, though!  What’d you think THIS little sheepie’s name should be?”
“Dolly, may I please say something before we start?”
She wished she still had a tongue to bite.  The request wasn’t meant to come out quite so impatient, barking.  If Dolly minded the sudden shot of aggression, it only evidenced through her face going neutral for a moment or two before breaking back into a wide smile.  “Sure thing!  Whatcha got?”  And then her head lolled to the side, resting angled cross her shoulder in a way Beau always found offputting.  No matter how much she knew this as Dolly’s I’m Listening I’m Hearing Honest pose, the limp stillness in her manner creeped a body out.
With a heavy sigh, Beau gathered her skirts and lowered herself cross-legged to the floor, intent on getting this right.  Steady and honest, she reminded herself, tucking and checking the fabric for comfort.  Wend your way in, give the full picture, keep your head, hope for the best.  Right.  Here goes.
“I am sure you have heard me tell how I came to the island, or at least heard from another who has,” she began, voice low and level as manageable.  “Short, skinny little Beau used to flying under everyone’s notice, suddenly so big a toy she’s practically eight feet tall compared to all the rest.  I am not stupid, I took one look at myself and figured a good rough version of why I came here - and a bit of talking to my neighbors cemented it.  All those years dodging attention, dodging responsibility, shirking duties for increasingly ephemeral reasons until I wasn’t taking proper care of my own health, let alone the people I might have helped if I took a tiny bit of interest in my life?  And now I’m a shepherd in Toyland with a flock waiting?  The message was pretty clear: shape up, adopt this duty, learn some discipline and make some proper commitments for once.”
A pause, to glance at Dolly for response.  Absolutely none, as expected, blank-eyed and still.  When she listens, she does literally nothing else.
“So I did what was expected.  And it helped, it really has, I like being shepherd for the sheep.  I do not know if they’re toyfolk themselves or just extensions for my punishment, but I get up, I tend them however long they need tending, and then I go home.  That is my life, and I think it a good life.  I live on a clock where I let hours slip, I’m assertive where I let others step on me, I’m a responsible person with a point to her life instead of a slacker doormat of no worth or use.  All to say… I just do not think playing cotton ball sheep is what I need here.  My job is playing the person I’m supposed to be, so there is no need to replicate it.  Right?
Expecting Dolly’s continued silence and mentally readying a third leg to her spiel, Beau jolted hard when the ragdoll’s head shot up and said, “Okay!  We don’t gotta play sheep!  What do you wanna play, then?”
With a shudder, Beau steered towards her main point.  “Right.  The reason I came here today… the REASON I came here today is because I have felt one.. one major problem the entire time I have lived here.”  Good Lord, could her speech be more stilted?  “Not something you would expect most to complain about, probably too silly for consideration, I should just g…” She promised herself.  No running until outright rejection.  Say it.  “I do not like… I want… well…”
“Your clothes?  Do you wanna play dress-up?  I’ve got some-”
There go the floodgates.
“I hate being so much taller than everyone!  It’s not just bumping my head and knocking people over and never finding anything in my size, that all sucks but I’m sick of being so BIG overall!  I woke up in my box and I looked around and I thought oh my God, it finally happened!  Because I was always short, right, and I had a THING for it and wanted to be even smaller, smaller than possible, and here I was under two feet and telling myself well, you’re not a person anymore, but you’ve got your dream, that’s something at least.  And then I wander into town and what do you know, they’re all shrimps compared to me, I’m practically a living colossus compared to everyone, and I have to learn how to be responsible and punctual and outward while living in THIS body?  THIS gigantic freak of a thing?  I’m the runt I always fantasized about and I can’t even feel it and it’s just too much and I want.. I want… I…”
Beau could not remotely account how, lacking lungs and all, she winded herself spilling her secret in one prolonged babble.  Regardless mechanics, she sat there on the floor, huffing for breath, fully aware she looked an enormous fool in figurative and literal terms.  Somewhere in her rant, Dolly’s head had lolled to the side again, which gave Beau the impression she could, perhaps, sneak out without further embarrassment.  The other toys sometimes said Dolly’s true self fugued away years ago; maybe if she made the door before Dolly straightened out, she wouldn’t be mis-
“Oh!  Ohhhhhhh!  I get it now!  You wanna play Big Girl/Little Girl!”
-ssssssssssssssssssssssss-
“You be the little girl and I be the big girl, right?”
-sssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss-
“I can do that easy!  You shoulda said when we came in, we coulda been at it ages by now!  C’mon, up, up, just gotta use your imagination for this one!”
-sed.  Through mentally sibilating, Beau let Dolly’s mitten-like hands grasp her overlarge yet slender digits and guide the towering shepherdess to her feet, passively swaying on the spot.  From where she stood, she could not possibly imagine how Dolly meant to fulfill the roles as proposed.  Half due to still whirling through panic at her shame being so readily accepted, half due to standing some six inches higher than the doll’s crown.  Gazing through doubled vision at the knots and kinks of black yarn hair, Beau tried to picture Dolly as the taller of the two, and failed as her mind blanked.
“It’s alright!” Dolly piped up, rags still grasping porcelain.  “This is to help you relax, but you gotta do that at least a little to get going!”  She stood there, neck considerably craned and mouth brightly curved until Beau adjusted her stance, an honest effort at playing willing participant rather than shellshocked statue.  “Great!  Now, I’m just gonna…” Dolly shuffled herself back and forth, producing a light scuffing whenever she bumped Beau’s dress. “...and a bit of…” Her head bounced about, hair bobs threatening to shake from their bows.  “...aaaaaaand!”
A rag foot went lightly fwuph upon the floor.  “Hi there, little girl!” she giggled, looking down.  “I’m big girl!”
The air in the room hung still as seconds tip-toed by.  Beau measured her options.  Responding as Dolly clearly expected didn’t feel right.  Walking out ran the risk of Dolly telling someone later.  Screaming felt undignified.  She settled, somewhat reticently, on polite suggestion.
“Uh, Dolly?  I am not entirely sure if you have noticed but… I am… I’m up here?  Would it help if I laid down?  You might look pretty tall then…”
“Huh!”  Dolly kept her eyes fixed firm on the floor between them.  “That’s weird!  I definitely see little girl Beau down there!  She’s sooo tiny!  Hi there, lil’ Beau!”  Her hand waved carelessly about for a few pendulations, until her forehead wrinkled, her arm slowed, and she asked, “Wait… you’ve never played like this before, have you?”
“Well, I might have roleplayed online some in college, but… look, are you sure I should be standing for this?  I don’t want to tell you how to do your job or anything, but if we’re being open and honest about this, you could try uh… stepping on me to get the point across?”
“Nahhhh, that’s Dommy Mommy, we don’t need to make pretend for that! I mean like… really played!  Like when you’re a kid.  Tried and tried and tried until you actually believed for a little bit!  Here, look, close your eyes and think, ‘I’m real real real real little right now, and Dolly’s suuuuper big,’ and then when I stomp, look up!  Give it a try!”
Features blank and uncomprehending, Beau did as she was told anyhow.  It felt stupid: if she looked up, she might see the poorly painted roof to Dolly’s foyer a few inches from her face, lit by a weak heat lamp behind a fake cardboard fire, standing on cheap balsa wood, but not Dolly.  She was down there, Beau was up here.  At the least, she could humor her host.  So she leaned her head back and set a mental intonation.  I’m small.  I have been small since I got here.  I am like… like a minifig.  Everyone look like mountains.  I need friends to carry me everywhere.  I can’t tend the sheep because they’re practically mattress warehouses compared to me.  That’s me, a pipsqueak, a speck, the smallest girl in Toyland.  And I like it this way.
“Okay!”  One more, Dolly’s foot went fwuph, signaling Beau to open her eyes.  Only this time, several factors shifted radically.
The ceiling, seconds ago so close she might reach to scrape away the peeling paint, now seemed a mile off, details lost in the distance.  A steady crackle sung from the fireplace, which flooded the room with a warmth before sorely lacking.  Those flimsy strips of balsa felt firm and sturdy as proper oaken hardwood.
And Dolly’s stomp made the whole house shake.
Beau stumbled off her feet and hit the ground hard, yet kept staring upward, mouth agape, verbal expression utterly useless to capture the sight before her eyes.  Impossible though it ought’ve been, she now splayed before a great black mound, dust particles still settling round its base.  Another, twin to the first, lay some distance to her right, and from both jutted pillars of pure brown fabric, stitchings the length of Beau’s entire body at quick estimate running along the sides of each into… void.  No, not a void, merely deep shadow; scootching herself back some, Beau noted a ring of alternating off-whites and dulled-reds, which in turn coalesced into candy cane striping drawing her higher, higher, higher.  Past trunklike arms, past a flowered ruff that could drown her home, up to a familiar mouth quirked into a smile, cheek patches glowing more intensely than she’d ever known, button eyes wide, magnified beyond all reason, and trained directly on her.
“There you are, little girl!  Told ya you were down there!  Hee hee!”
Shrank me.  She actually shrank me, Beau thought.  Inching back further for a better view, however, she found her understanding of the situation very quickly challenged via her back striking something.  What, she couldn’t tell, for when she twisted herself about to check she found only the open expanse of the floor, her frame so small as to readily slide under the couch.  Yet, from the scratchy coarseness against her back, tangible even through her considerable layers, Beau knew for a fact she was now pressed firm into Dolly’s sofa.
A deafening coo from above forced her eyes Dollyward again.  “Hey, hey, don’t worry!  Gonna seem a bit weird, but it’s all part of playing pretend!  Long as you and me both think you’re tiny, you actually are, sorta!  Big Beau’s still here, she didn’t go anywhere.  It’s just you’re ALSO Little Beau now, which means I can do-”
Scrabbling for comprehension, Beau experienced two wholly contradictory sensations at once.  In the back of her mind, she dimly perceived Dolly crouching down, scooping both arms underneath Beau, and hefting her up with considerably less difficulty than she handled the far-lighter bag of cotton balls.  In active sight, though, clear as day and solid as anything, she watched helpless as Dolly crouched, gently slid a single mitt towards her, brushed her aboard with the other, and tenderly rose back to her full stature.  The rush of air nearly knocked Beau flat once more, but she held her ground best she could, no matter how much said ground felt like ever-shifting cotton stuffing just beneath a layer of old cloth.  Maybe the existence of proper flooring in top-side reality helped her stay balanced?
Only, no, Dolly didn’t have proper flooring, she lived in a bargain bin dollhouse!  That stuff practically bounced under every step on the way in!
But, if Beau was still standing on flimsy balsa wood, how did she keep her footing s-
No, wrong, she wasn’t even standing, she was in Dolly’s arms.  On Dolly’s palm.  In Dolly’s house, which Dolly now vastly outsized.  Only it wasn’t Dolly who was big; Beau was just very, very small.  Except…
“-THIS!” Dolly triumphed, shaking Beau from her reverie.
“I think I’m gonna throw up,” she murmured to herself, irrespective her lack of stomach.
“Well if you WANT to while playing pretend, you can!  Though I wouldn’t like it very much, so please don’t unless you REALLY need to!”
“Okay… okay, okay, alright, so…” Beau did her best to gather her thoughts.  Dolly made this somewhat difficult as her enormous hand hovered nearby, gently prodding the miniature shepherdess to and fro (or at least tapping her regular-sized face for similar effect), though Beau found no will to ask Dolly stop.  With every bump and subsequent stumble, it became marginally easier to tune out what was really happening, stop thinking of it in such terms.  While she could still see and feel the awkward weight lifting job necessary to simulate her palm-bound station, the sink of her feet into the hidden fluff seemed softer, the slight must inherent to ragdolls of Dolly’s vintage permeated deeper, the boom of Dolly’s giggles and the warmth in the room and the sense of having dwindled next to nothing inching towards total believability as her only reality.
“Tiny.  Tiny like I always wanted.”
“Yep!”
“On your hand.  Like some kind of bug.”
“Uh-huh!”
“Except n-”  No, actually.  Beau bit back the words, acceptance and embrace seeming easier than interrogating denial.  If she pushed too hard, the perceptive spell might break, and she might not find the will to go back.  Instead, she shuffled on the spot until Dolly asked a question of her own.
“How do you like it?”
The answer came far easier than expected.  “I- I think it’s wonderful.  Can all the toyfolk do this?”
“Oh yeah, all the time!  For sleeping and eating and washing and all sorts of stuff!  But fun stuff like this, you do need two making believe together at least!  It can’t do stuff like make you hhhhmmmmmmmmnnngngn, but you can see and feel and do all sorts of things!  It’s really really neato!”
Beau opted against asking about the sudden mushmouthing, and instead asked, “And… do you like it?  Me like this and you like that?”
Dolly tossed her head in a prideful swish, enough yarn to smother the town square flouncing in reply.  “As Toyland’s first and best professional playmate, I like anything my guests wanna do!”  Then she leaned in close, so close Beau almost scented something like candy-sweet breath, and added in whisper, “But also you’re SUPER cute like this!  Hee!”
With those words, whatever reticence Beau felt melted entirely.  She pulled herself to her feet, rushed forward, slammed herself into Dolly’s cheek, and spread her arms to squeeze them against the ragdoll’s cushy face wide and tight as she could manage.  “Thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you so much I love it I should have come here months ago!”  Mid-nuzzle with a stitch broader than her torso, she caught herself, realizing what must have happened topside with her sudden movement, and coughed, “Oh, uh… sorry if I, you know… bulldozed you there.”
“Don’t worry!  I put you down while we were talking!  You’re just standing there, still ‘n’ sturdy!  Didn’t move an inch!  Not that you can unless I want you to~.”
Beau blinked.  She achieved total immersion and hadn’t realized.  A broad smile lit her face.  “Oh, this is going to be so much-”
“FUN!!!”
Dolly’s exclamation sent Beau tumbling backward head over heels.  And so - with the quick establishment of safe words and signals - they were off.
As show of gratitude, Beau let Dolly take first point with whatever sorts of games she’d normally prefer.  To no surprise, her instincts trended towards childish games, though the sheer size disparity made these more engaging and enjoyable for Beau than had they tried beforehand.  Marveling at the seemingly overlarge ragdoll’s deftness as they played patty-cake, bulk slab hands gently bumping against her own and clapping just softly enough to only produce a minor sonic boom.  Now and then, Dolly timed her claps to close around Beau, enveloping her playmate in muffling dark and snickering as Beau squirmed within, doing her level best to keep the rhythm while ensnared.
Jumping rope wouldn’t work quite so well under normal circumstances - Beau had no chance of clearing Dolly’s skips, and the idea of Dolly registering Beau’s twirls was laughable.  Instead, she placed her mite of a partner in her hair, and told Beau to hang on while she tried at besting her record.  At first, Beau found the rapid swish of corded rope overhead and the wild tangle of Dolly’s hair a little frightening, but after the first fifty skips she came to appreciate the experience as a kind of thrill ride.  With the right wriggling, she could tuck herself between a few yarn strands, ensure a secure position, and appreciate the doll’s talent for speed step and criss-cross.
All the same, she asked for a game more accommodating her size next, inspiring Dolly to a round of hide ‘n’ seek.  This suited Beau quite nicely, though not because she proved a particularly adept hider.  She found her options severely limited by where Dolly placed her and how far she could scurry within even a deliberately molasses countdown, which made her discovery inside a minute practically inevitable.  Rather, it made a delightful opportunity for exploring the room from her miniaturized vantage point, breath taken away by the cavernous space under the couch, the monolithic quality of knick-knacks on the mantle, the all-swallowing dark of an otherwise light shadow in the connecting hallway, all of it so incredibly convincing through new eyes.  If she woke up here with no further context, there wouldn’t pass a second she thought it anything other than a full-scale home.
(One round did go in her favor.  She tip-toed her way under the slight heel rise in Dolly’s shoe, and spent several minutes shuffling along with its tread while snickering to herself, grateful Dolly found the act of pretending so natural she never once thought to nudge Beau’s actual body for a hint.)
I Spy proved mainly an excuse for Dolly to walk about the room humming and erring to herself in mock consternation over what to choose, her path always hewing within relative inches of catching Beau underfoot, then spinning about in “sudden” inspiration with, “I spy a cutie pie!”  Obviously Beau could not replicate the same effect, especially not while blushing from the compliment (actually, properly blushing, she realized, real heat from her cheeks gone flush); she instead alternated between playing legit and spying “the biggest doll ever.”  Either way, Dolly knew her home and herself too well to fail a guess.
They did find time for a brief round of play sheep tending at Dolly’s suggestion, a transitory game to ease Beau into control of their activities.  True to her word, Dolly made sure Beau kept from her usual controlling, overly-mannered habits, prodding verbally and physically if she showed signs of slipping.  Really, it only took a few of these before Beau conceded entirely and the game turned into one of plonking into cotton balls thrice her height for warmth while Dolly shuffled the others about, generating heat and bleating to herself.
Maybe I should just relax with the sheep from time to time, Beau pondered, her face sinking another half-step into the fluff.  If their wool feels half so cozy as I’m imagining, it might do us all some good…
The task of calling time suddenly fell to Beau, alongside Dolly’s head when she slumped face-first into the cotton pile, having put herself to sleep counting cotton ball sheep.  A gentle smile on her face despite the sudden jar, Beau pattered on over to shove at Dolly’s cheeks in hopes of rousing the giant.  No good, alas.  Rule of play made counting sheep dangerous business if one believed in its narcoleptic sway, and nobody on the island adhered to its tenets firmer.  Girl was plain out like a light.
Beau contemplated her options.  She COULD will her perspective back to normal and wake Dolly in her full-sized body.  Or…
She had a much, much better idea.  Scuttling at top speed, Beau made a beeline for Dolly’s thigh, half-exposed beneath the folds of her dress.  Fortunately the doll’s awkward pose compressed her dimensions somewhat, else Beau would have quite the long run before her.  As it were, a mere minute’s running brought her before her destination, a great unmoving wall.  The sight could take her breath away, were she not already winded from the sprint over - voluminous dresses did not make good exercise gear.  After affording herself a moment’s awe at the sheer expanse of something she thought remarkably slender and floppy just this morning (and to catch her breath), Beau cracked her fingers best she could without breakage, and set to dancing them across Dolly’s rags in a tickle.
At first, no result.  Not shocking, for even imagining Dolly’s leg as smooth warm flesh rather than sewn cloths, Beau could only stimulate so much surface area.  Movement was necessary, which meant sidling her way inwards, towards hopefully more sensitive patches.  Gliding her arms up, down, and in circles on her approach, the hem of Dolly’s dress passing by overhead and necessitating a small adjust in step underfoot, Beau half-hoped Dolly would wake before she pressed too much further… then mentally slapped herself for such idiocy.
“Just snooze long as you like…” she grinned, sliding one step further in, and then another, and another, and another, closer and closer and closer to…
Exactly how deep she went, Beau could not say.  When Dolly finally registered the caressing strokes, the lack of unfiltered light and those enormous pillars kicking all about conspired into complete disorientation as Beau was mercilessly thrown about, eventually tumbling out the dress between Dolly’s feet.  In spite of the indignity of her situation, Beau found herself laughing alongside the giantess, pounding the floor some at the thought of what she just did until Dolly scooped her back up, and kept on for some time after at that.
“Guess.. hahaha… I guess there goes any formality about my taking point!” she chirped, spreading out on her back and gazing up at Dolly’s staring face.
“Hee, yeah!  Being spontaneous can be just as fun as planning things out!”
“...Dolly, did you put yourself to sleep on purpose to see what I’d do on my own?”
“Won’t tell!  But it felt good anyways!”
Beau stuck out her tongue, marveled at the fact she could, then stretched and heaved a long sigh.  “Do you know, since we went there, I have wondered something about this whole imagination distorting reality thing since we started.”
“Oh?”
“We can make me smaller after a fashion by making believe, but… can we also make you bigger?  If both of us pretend really, really hard, like you said?”
Hardly a moment after she posed the question, Beau got her answer, as Dolly simply expanded outward.  Attention still fixed on the mini-toy in her hand, smile unwavering as ever, the ragdoll became, unceasingly, more and more.  All in their imagination, of course, but Beau’s shrinking happened instantly and involved no changes beyond herself; this was Dolly’s legs crowding her furniture against the wall, Dolly’s back blocking the entryway and sliding along the ceiling as she hunched over, Dolly’s free hand covering and smothering the fireplace in a groping quest for free space.  The fact of a process Beau could stand and witness in real time made the already impressive growth near-overwhelming.
As she kept on, the room groaned and the foundations creaked.  Beau distantly recalled her observation about Dolly’s weight as insubstantial, realized her contribution to this particular bit of make-believe rendered the ragdoll just so heavy as her size implied, and felt her higher functions black out.  From feeling like a mite to a veritable dust speck, she rode out the change, reveling a little every time Dolly shifted on the spot to gain more room or produced a worrying crack at her feet.  Whatever this looked like in proper reality, Beau couldn’t give two spits.  This was glorious, and that was enough.
If Dolly wasn’t quite human-sized within a minute, she certainly challenged the room’s maximum mass capacity as she tapered off, grunting some in mild discomfort from awkward positioning.  Surprising for her composition, yet Beau supposed someone so bendy and soft must too have their limits.  Or rather, she would suppose, were her eyes not lit with the delighted sparkling of an entire night’s sky.
“Oh my God, you can, you can actually get bigger, cripes, no, wait, this changes everything, I was expecting you to say no, oh my fffff… Dolly, Dolly how much bigger can you get?  Let’s do it, let’s keep going, I want to see it, I wanna climb in your collar and watch you burst this stupid house and go stomping around the island, give everyone the shock of their lives, bigger shock than coming here ever was.  Oh, oh, hey, if we get more toys to see you like this does that make it realer?  Can we make it more real than your actual body, can we make this permanent?  Get you like, fifty feet tall, or whatever that would be proportionate to us?  First and best and BIGGEST playmate, can you imagine it?  Oh my God oh my God oH MY GOD!!!”
Hyperventilating, Beau let her thoughts run wild in a way she hadn’t entertained since college.  She woke up this morning expecting humiliation and disappointment, and now THIS door opened wide just for her?  Heaven from straight out hell!
Tragedy, alas, came crashing about her head when Dolly spoke, alongside serious earache from the raw volume of her voice.
“I can, actually!  Although, even if it is all pretend, there’s still enough really happening to be uh… a little bit worried?  I’m trying super hard to not crush my couch right now.  And if I keep growing, I might just sorta appear outside without any damage, or I might break my roof.  So… can, but prooooobably shouldn’t?”
 Beau sat there, contemplating.  She came dangerously close to suggesting all caution go stuff itself in the wind, consumed by overwhelming desire to glut on her deepest fantasies and see this place smashed to splinters as revenge for their inhuman state.  Thankfully, a new life of self-discipline paid dividends beyond dragging herself out from bed in the morning, and cooler-headed reasoning prevailed.  To face the entity responsible for repairing any beyond-the-pale damage and explain WHY Dolly’s house had a great big Dolly-sized hole in would prove too too much.
“Mmnnnnngh, alright, fine!  No ragdoll rampage unless we start another one of these playdates outside.  Just… can I have a uh… a kiss before you shrink back d-”
“SURE!”
Escape velocity g-force didn’t compare with the pressure pinning Beau to the spot as Dolly pressed hand to face.  Any chance to account why she asked for a kiss when she knew perfectly well Dolly’s mouth was a pasted-on detail with no depth or lips vanished the instant she smashed directly against the red semi-circle.  Mwah!’s of thunderous amplitude boomed from every direction, Dolly indulging the request many times over, giving Beau the space necessary to conjure something other than fabric around her person.  Same basic principles as all other forms of play, of course, just a matter of picuting what you want to see and feel…
With some effort, the rags morphed.  Warmth crept into their fibers, their flat surface splitting and expanding into new volume, a texture like the finest gloss spread over naturally smooth flesh.  Beau imagined the twitch of tiny facial muscles pursing and puckering, stretching across micrometers that may so well be miles at her scale, to catch her in the cleft and pull her vacuum tight with the slightest suction.  A pop louder than any sound in history as she’s released, only for the phantom process to repeat again, and again, and again. 
She leaned into it, thrilling at the tangible contrast between present and imaginary, the hints of plain stitching on those lips and the taste of proper breath intermingling with cotton.  Some small (VERY small, all told) part of her wondered again how far she could push this, whether imagining Dolly sucking an infinitesimal bit harder to trap the shepherdess in her mouth would actually transport Beau inside the doll’s head, to mingle with nonexistent teeth and tongue and saliva, the threat of swallowing looming ever closer.  And then to properly go through with it - impossible when this wasn’t her real body, but if it WERE, lost in Dolly’s stuffing, forgotten and insignificant as any other piece of debris.
Eaten by a ragdoll.  Wouldn’t that plain beat all?
Fortunately, Dolly had her fill of mock-smooching a practically empty palm before Beau could make serious headway on imagining an unaware vore scenario.  Or seemingly unaware, as it were.  With their minds modestly intermingled for the game’s sake, Dolly sensed Beau’s intentions, and figured it best they move on before she took any rash actions requiring surgical intervention.
“While you recover down there,” she said, voice returning to mere deafening rumbles as she imagined herself back to a sensible size, “we can do something a little like me being big big big BIG girl!  Only gotta go the other way round!”
For her part, Beau was less recovering than indulging a passing sulk.  Can’t watch Dolly wreck the town, can’t feed herself to Dolly, and now the colossal palm upon which she laid shrank back to mere enormity.  S’not fair, this was supposed to be the part where she got to do whatever she liked.  If they had to obey rationality and precaution, where was the f- f- ffffffff-
Beau’s mind once again stumbled on drawn-out consonants as she noticed the spatial distortion of her immediate environment reversing polarity.  Dolly resumed her usual size, yet her hand, which had seemingly collapsed in on itself, now stretched away from Beau’s central location, at rapid speed and seemingly more gigantic than before.  She was shrinking again, in moments as tall to her first shrunken height as it stood against Dolly, and then the same for her second tier, down down down…
“WE CAN GO A LOT MORE EXTREME LIKE THIS, I THINK!”
Porcelain chipped from Beau’s face, the statement slammed her so hard.  Yeah.  Yeah, that’d do as compensation.
To her mind, she lost days wandering the now-continent of Dolly.  Because none of this was strictly happening, her waves and foot-taps for attention were always met with an obliging pinch ride, her requests for another location heard and fulfilled without trouble; but even so, on deposit at her new destination, Beau let time slough clean away.  Those candycane stripes represented plains a dozen miles wide and countless miles along, ideal for thoughtless wandering as Dolly lay upon her back.  The simple curve of black leather on her shoes became ascent up a slope worthy any seasoned mountaineer, magnificently challenging for a size-obsessive like Beau.  She walked the shadow of a single stitch, her hand run along its rim to enjoy the microscopic imperfections bumping through her fingers; she had Dolly bend the flowery ruff round her neck to transform it into the ultimate downhill zip-ride a few too many times over; she closed her eyes, let Dolly select a random patch of rags within the dress, challenged herself to figure where she stood, and blushed quite ferociously when the answer coalesced.
(She figured it only proper to not ask after the meaning behind the massive “S” on a field of red.  Breast tats are a private matter, after all.)
The head alone offered endless possibilities.  Eyes like a frozen sea on a moonless night, so dark they swallowed all ambient light, so slick Beau practically glid over their surface, the thread holes chasms into an underworld.  The forest of yarn-hair at her old size now an endless Amazonian expanse, the weave’s logic lost to miniscule chaos of discarded fuzz and imperceptible shifts, like the environment malforming itself into a maze just to challenge Beau.  Bows of a silky softness approaching angelic, tempting sleep everlasting in their flamingo tuck and fold.  Cheek patches, radiating mid-summer desert heat, near-intolerable at this size past a single minute, yet how delightful and special a thing to roast in the glow of another’s affection.  As to the mouth… well, Dolly wouldn’t let Beau near the mouth again.
A thousand locales upon a doll scarcely over a foot high, so many seemingly identical, yet all stirring in their own unique ways.  Between major hot spots, Beau simply stood, immersed, let herself be.  By the loose reckoning of time in her head, she must have spent so long upon Dolly that her host got up to attend other matters, looked after her own feeding, sleep, other clients, whole daily cycles interrupted every so often by her adorable germ asking for a new location.  Sense dictated Beau should detect Dolly moving about while curled in the crook of her knee, feel gravity shift as the doll changed positions.  To think elsewise would render Dolly more than a mere continent - an entire world unto herself, population Beau and no other.  Clung to a thin cloth skin, needing and knowing nothing save her new home.  Such thoughts flitted through her hollow head, then vanished into wordless euphoria.
As with all things, it soon came to an end.  Happily, this ending announced itself via a pleasing rumble.
“HEY, CUTIE!  HATE TO SAY WHEN YOU’RE SO COZY, BUT WE ARE ALMOST AT YOUR THREE HOUR LIMIT.  YOUR NOTE SAID YOU NEED TO CHECK ON YOUR SHEEP AFTER THAT, SO WE’VE GOTTA GROW YOU BACK.  SORRY!”
Though too at peace for the words to seriously disturb her, Beau felt minor confusion at the reminder.  “Drat, you’re right, I did set a limit.  Except, wow, has it really only been three hours?”
“CLOCK SAYS TEN MINUTES TO GO.  I JUST THOUGHT YOU’D NEED SOME TIME TO ADJUST BACK INTO BIG BEAU.”
“Feels as though I spent a lifetime down here…”
“Aw, that’s just how playing pretend gets!”  Already Dolly’s voice softened to near-intolerable levels, in tandem with Beau regaining her starting shrunken size.  “So, if you close your eyes and picture it real hard, we’ll bring you back up to full size, and then-”
“W-wait!”  Beau cried, flailing her arms in a desperate bid for reprieve.  “Ten minutes can be practically forever in playtime, right?  We have enough left for one last thing!”
Dolly tapped her chin in consideration.  “Oh yeah!  When you thought we were playing Dommy Mommy, you asked me to step on you!  I can do that, hang on!”
“ACTUALLY!”  She coughed, shuffling on the spot, eyes cast downward, goading herself into asking plain ‘n’ direct.  “It is… it’s a little more than that.  Would you mind… if it’s not too much… I mean…”  Beau gestured uselessly towards the couch, then groaned.  “Dolly, can you sit on me?”
The smile that followed could turn deepest midnight to a midday blaze.  “I thought you’d never ask~!”
Imagination served Beau’s reactions well.  Breath caught in her chest as Dolly carried her to the couch.  Skin ran with prickling goosebumps as Dolly set her down perfect center.  Nerves screamed in anticipation as Dolly turned about.  Sweat pricked her forehead at the sight of Dolly gathering her dress to draw it tight about her backside.  An entire nonexistent system of biological impulses and reactions took in the sight of a perfectly flat, rectangular spread of cotton-stuffed fabric leaning back over her position, compared it against the expected list of sexually exciting imagery, ruminated for the briefest of instants, and ran back a report: “Yeah, no, this is still stupid fucking hot to us too.”
Beau squeaked.
WUMPH.
All shape and sense fell away.  No chance she’d ever think Dolly slight after this.  The only sensation Beau processed was unrelenting weight - Dolly’s complete nothing of a frame crushing her into a flat surface whose wool texture vanished beneath the fact of a single pound turned poundage uncountable by a simple difference in scale.  Some part of her wanted to believe Dolly shifted herself back and forth some, rubbing in her position of dominance, but in the moment, the difference between supposition and reality was practically nil.  Dolly might do anything up there, and all Beau would know is compression, and paralysis, and weight.
A particularly eager voice in the back of her head had demanded she repeat something like her trick during the earlier kiss, summon up the sensation of a proper person’s rear to enhance the sensation.  Run it through a dozen dozen body types to smother herself beneath every manner of human Dolly she could imagine.  Completely impossible, now, stupid to have assumed any choice.  She was undoubtedly underneath a doll, at the mercy of as sexless a humanoid thing as you please, impressions of curved flesh totally denied by hand-sewn, unendowed textiles.  And God help her if the alienation from anything like the human form didn’t make this ten times better, just by mere association with Dolly.
She tried to squirm.  She tried to struggle.  No use.  If Dolly fell inanimate right now, they’d blow clean past her stopping time, perhaps leave her trapped by this wonderfully unbearable pressure all day, all night, however long until someone thought to check on the ragdoll.  And if they did check, rouse her or pull her from the couch, would they care to notice the speck she ground into its seating?  Could they notice?  Beau wanted to shudder at the thought, but could not.  She did not kick, nor flail, nor much of anything else.  She took the weight, for there was nothing else to do.
(Except, briefly, ponder whether that Barbie doll and her bendy girlfriend might like to try this.  Hard plastic held an appeal all its own…)
And then it was over.  Light and sound flooded from above as Dolly hoped from her spot, leaving Beau to reel back into normal consciousness.  “Alright, we’re inching pretty close here, so we really gotta finish off!  Your sheepies are gonna get lonely if you don’t head out soon!”
Denied the ability so thoroughly for so long, Beau fidgeted on the spot.  “I mean… you did say I work myself and them alike too hard.  Who’s to say staying longer won’t help?”
“Naaaaaah.  Besides, I got me-things to do still! Can’t give Little Beau my attention all day!”
“Little Beau can just sit in your collar while you work!  Or get put on your shelf and abandoned until…”
“Hey.”  Dolly knelt down by the couch, positioning her face on even level with the shrunken shepherdess.  “I get it.  You wanna play all the time, never stop being Little Beau.  And I do too!  It’s lots and lots and lots of fun being the first and best professional playmate in Toyland!  But you gotta stop sometime, right?  Do what you gotta do outside playtime.”
Beau stood, turned her back, crossed her arms, huffed.  “But we agreed being Big Beau is bad for me.  I haven’t felt this happy and relaxed since I came to Toyland!  Why should I go back to acting stuck-up and high-strung all the time?”  To her surprise, the last part came out with a slight whine round the edge.
Her ears heard the rough scrape of fabric on fabric as Dolly rubbed her chin in contemplation.  “Maybe you’re only like that as Big Beau because you never take the time to be Little Beau.  Maybe you spent so much time doing what you think you need to do, you don’t turn off and be what you want.  So Big Beau is bossy and stiff, and Little Beau overdoes it and doesn’t wanna stop.  Maybe you just gotta find the right balance!”
Beau sniffled, reluctant to turn about.
Arms scooped around her, both miniaturized self and true self, the latter invisible to her eye yet right next to her on the couch.  The vertigo of existing across two perspectives clouded her head again as Dolly hefted her high for one last hug.  “You can always come by again whenever you got time in your schedule, yeah?”  She gave a gentle squeeze, warming Beau to her core.  “Little Beau ain’t going away; she’s sleeping so Big Beau can have her turn.  They’re not different people!  Just, y’know… sides!”
Beau did her best to hug back, simultaneously too small and too big to do so properly.  Although she suspected Dolly did not quite take her own advice… “You are right, Dolly.  I will keep an eye open for when I have time.  And cherish what we have done already.  Thank you, so very, very much.”
“No problem!”
The spell broke.
Dolly’s legs wobbled.  Without the power of play rendering Beau’s body lighter than a feather, her cotton-stuffed limbs were not equipped to hold a doll half her height over and thrice her weight so high aloft.  The pair teetered for a moment, then went crashing to the floor.
“...is there any chance you are into being sat on yourself?” Beau joked.
“Not really!  Can you pretty please get up?”
“Fair.”  Uncrumpling her dress and unsnagging strands of hair from the floor, she rose back up, steadying against the suddenly unfamiliar yet already normalizing vantage point of her normal toy self.  “Do I owe you anything for the service?  I know most toyfolk avoid financial exchange unless they have a fondness for Monopoly money, but I figure it best to ask in case…”
“Lemme hang out with your flock sometime and we’re evens Stevens!”
***
Later in the evening, Beau lay awake in bed, echoes of the day’s experiences ringing in her head.
For the remainder of the afternoon, she'd done as she’d planned: stand over her flock, moving them from one end of the pasture to another and back again.  Absent the ordinary pressures and obligations of tending livestock, she spent years engaged in this on the daily out of obligation, obligation and belief fastidious attendance might purify her wrongdoings.  With Dolly’s session at her back, however, today she took a different set of words to heart and tried to have fun with the job.  It was not easy, divorced from such immense gratification (and immense presence…), and she was not sure she did it right, but her sheep seemed appreciative when she let them run free from her command for a time.  Bleated approval and followed when she broke into a spontaneous run.  Stood willingly as she hugged them at day’s end, imagining each a cotton ball.
Her friends took immediate notice at dinner.  Genuine notice, no snark or innuendo, which characterized their original suggestions.  “Good one, Beau!”  “Can’t believe what a difference I’m seeing, you MUST tell me what she did in there.”  “I have never seen you this laid back, it’s a miracle.”  When they partook in a night-closing chaser, Beau actually deigned to stay and take a drink herself - for the first time, she felt the slightest buzz from sipping the empty cup, prompting cheers and claps on the back.
Tipsiness wasn’t the only novel sensation in the hours since.  Her own home seemed friendlier.  The lights provided proper illumination where once they offered dim, faltering glow; the personal effects on her dresser seemed almost serviceable makeup options rather than cheap plastic imitations; the floor no longer groaned under her step, the doorframes accommodated her figure a little more willingly.
Her pillow felt of soft down, her blankets a comfortable fleece.  The rickety, long-hated foam strip masquerading as a mattress: just like the one she remembered back home.
How had she gone this long without a spark of vibrancy in her life?  Convinced Toyland was this dead, unchanging place, cut off from the joys small and large which made a life worth living?  In honesty, likely the same way she went her human life convinced of the same.  Self-isolation, presumption of living as an inherent misery, refusal to look up and see what’s actually there without turning about and running.  She wanted to feel shame at the thought it took effectively a private kink roleplay session to realize one only need want the full scope of offerings to find them all around… but in the name of balance, swatted the thought aside.  Take the good where you can, she thought, that is the real important thing.
And besides.  If she learnt of this aspect to the rule of play any other way, she’d never think to do this.
Eyes laid gently closed, Beau rearranged her perspective.  While the sensation could not match the strength possible with Dolly’s cooperation, she did not need full intensity in her sleep.  Even the faintest impression of her body dwindling until the bed felt sensibly proportioned would help.  Somewhere between the extremes, just enough to fit, and settle in, and snooze.  If Big Beau and Little Beau needs must cooperate to improve both their lots, they can start by making sure Beau Beau gets some good rest.
Beau rolled on her side, and, for the first time since her arrival, felt at peace in Toyland.
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levihanskid · 3 days
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[Untitled] Bakugo Katsuki’s Twin AU chapter 1
i haven’t made a fic in years so idk how this is gonna go, but i’ve been cooking this one for a while now! i’m planning to make more in the future but idk
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“Where the hell is that bastard?” the girl muttered to herself as she stares at her phone, pissed at her twin brother for not picking up her calls. 
She and Katsuki were supposed to meet up at the grocery store and run some errands after school. Although it seems like the other twin had forgotten about it and decided to storm off somewhere.
The girl walked towards the nearby shopping district, with her long sand blonde hair swaying with the wind. As she approached the store, she fished her phone out of her pocket and attempted to call her brother one last time.
The phone rang for a second when a sudden explosion reached her ears. It seems to be in quite some distance since the sound was not as loud, but it still caught her attention. She saw people on the main street running in different directions, some ran towards the commotion, while others went the opposite way in a panic. 
She heard the sounds of explosions again, this time a lot louder for her to hear properly and recognize. The awfully familiar noise made her stomach twist. Who wouldn’t recognize the sound of their own twin’s quirk?
The blonde girl marched into the crowd, which was a few blocks away from where she was at. Anxiety engulfs her as the explosions continued and smoke started rising. She knew right at that moment that it was something serious, because she knows for a fact that Katsuki wouldn’t carelessly use his quirk that much in public if he wanted a clean record before getting into high school. Her twin brother is in real trouble.
As she finally reached the commotion, she felt her heart drop to her stomach. From the other side of the road, she could see the street on fire. The scene made her stop on her tracks, her crimson eyes wide as she makes out the figure of a sludge looking thing enveloping a kid with the same hair and eyes identical to hers.
The sight made her stand on her spot frozen as questions ran through her mind. What the hell is happening? Why is that thing trying to kill her brother? Where are the pro heroes? Surely they will help him, right? 
Another batch of explosions snapped her out of her brain and to her disappointment, her last question was answered. A giant hero stood on the side of a street just watching the boy struggle. With furrowed brows, she scanned the area and saw the other pro-heroes standing around and doing nothing to rescue her brother. 
Her anxiety was immediately replaced with raging anger when she realized that no one was trying to help Katsuki. She began crossing the road as tears welled up her eyes. 
“No you idiot! Stop! You’re gonna get yourself killed!”
She heard people gasp and pro-heroes yelling at another kid running to the villain. That unmistakably curly green hair… no way. Is Izuku trying to help Katsuki right now? Out of all people, a quirkless, scrawny boy is the one trying to rescue her brother?
Out of the corner of her eye, a skinny man seemed to have grown five times larger his size and jumped up. She didn’t pay much attention as she was too distracted to what was happening in front of her.
She was struggling to enter the scene because of the crowd when All Might appeared out of nowhere. Everything happened so fast, All Might quickly grabbed the two boys as he punched the villain, yelling his signature move. Everyone was stunned for a moment as they saw how the number one hero changed the weather because of his powerful move. But that’s none of her concern, she didn’t waste anymore time and quickly ran to her brother. 
***
“WHAT KIND OF PRO-HEROES ARE YOU?!?” the girl’s voice thundered. 
Moments after All Might’s victory over the sludge villain, media arrived to cover the incident. People praised Katsuki for his bravery, while they scolded Izuku for running into the scene like an idiot. Which riled her up even more.
“How could you just stand around knowing a villain is trying to kill someone!?” she continued yelling at the pros. 
“Mitsuko, calm down. You’re too loud,” Katsuki said in a low, raspy voice.
“No, I will not calm down!” she regarded her twin before turning back to the pro-heroes. “You call yourselves heroes yet you can’t do anything against a single villain even when you have the numbers?!”
“Relax kid, none of us had the quirk to go against that slime villain so we had to wait for someone with the appropriate ability. We did everything we could, we kept the damage to a minimum and kept civilians safe,” the hero with a large build said. He’s wearing a yellow and black-striped headband that matches his wrist guards and the belt around his waist. Mitsuko recognized him as the Punching Hero: Death Arms.
“Besides, your brother is fine. He was able to hold off on his own. You should be glad he had such powerful quirk,” the woman who was a giant earlier added, which she didn’t recognize at all so she assumed that the hero was fairly new. 
“And what if the victim was another person? What if it was someone who was not strong enough to fight the villain off? Would you be able to live up to that if someone died because you weren’t able to do anything to help?” Mitsuko said in a stern voice, eyeing every single pro-hero in front of her. 
The heroes couldn’t think of a reply so she chuckled in disbelief. “I can’t believe a middle schooler beat you in having the courage to at least try to do something.” 
She picked up her brother, who has been sitting on the floor, and started walking away. “Come on, Suki. Let’s go home.”
The twins walked home in silence. None of them dared to speak until Katsuki stopped before a corner of a street. 
“You go ahead, I want to do something first,” he told his sister as he started walking to a different direction.
“Hell no. Do you think I’d let you go on your own after all that? Are you stupid?” Mitsuri raised an eyebrow.
“Just go! I can handle myself!” he yelled at her without stopping in his tracks.
Mitsuko could hear the exhaustion lingering in her brother’s usual rude tone. So she decided not to follow but to wait for him instead.
“Fine, I’ll just wait for you here. Just hurry up or mom’s gonna kill us.”
Several minutes passed before she saw her brother walking back with hands in his pockets and his back slouched. None of them spoke as they navigated their route home.
***
The twins were greeted with their father’s worried face the second they opened the door of the Bakugo residence. 
“We saw the news. Are you guys okay? Were you hurt, son?”
Katsuki let out an audible scoff. “I’m fine, old man! I could’ve freed myself on my own if no one intervened!” 
“STOP LYING!” their mom yelled before walking out the kitchen. “If you weren’t so stupid you wouldn’t be in that situation in the first place!”
“SHUT UP! It wasn’t my fault that some heroes were dumb enough to let that ugly slime loose! He was so weak I could beat the hell out of him!” the boy yelled back.
“Could you guys at least let us take our shoes off and walk in? Jeez,” Mitsuko said in a condescending tone.
“AND DIDN’T I TELL YOU TO GET GROCERIES BEFORE COMING HOME?!”
“Right. Well, you see my brother here got into a slimy situation so we forgot. Sorry about that,” she pointed her thumb at her brother, unbothered by the volume of their mom’s voice.
“It’s fine, I can get the groceries later,” their dad said, trying to calm everyone down. “Dinner is ready, let’s eat before the food gets cold.”
Katsuki and their mom’s banter continued to the dining table. Still talking about the incident and how much of an idiot Katsuki was for getting in trouble. Mitsuko didn’t mind, she focused on eating her food in hopes of not getting the same yelling her brother was having. After dinner, the twins automatically stood up to help cleaning up but was stopped by their mother.
“I’ll do the dishes. You guys go and wash up. Especially you, Katsuki!! You reek of sewer and trash!” unlike her tone before, she said that in a much friendlier way except that she didn’t miss the opportunity to scold one of her twins.
***
After washing up and changing into her pajamas, Mitsuko sat at her desk, facing her laptop. A video of her yelling at the pro-heroes earlier is playing on the screen. The news didn’t include her in the reports, but some citizen had taken a video of the scene and uploaded it to the internet, which garnered tons of views and attention. She only found out about it when some of her classmates notified her and sent her the link.
Mitsuko could clearly see her furious expression from the angle the video was taken, and she wondered what kind of impression that gave to other people, especially the heroes. Just as she was about to open the comment section to see what people think, a hand came from behind and closed her laptop shut. She looked up from her shoulder and saw her twin standing next to her, holding a mug of milk chocolate. She realized how unaware she was because she didn’t even hear him come in her room.
“Don’t even bother paying attention to that video. Most of the comments are full of morons,” Katsuki told her before setting the mug on her desk and plopping down her bed.
“You read the comments? What did it say?” Mitsuko asked, sipping her milk chocolate. It relaxed her a bit, and she silently thanked her brother for always remembering her comfort drink.
“Yeah, most of them are just dumb enough to not know the context before putting down a comment, calling you disrespectful and whatnot. While some of them agrees with what you said. Especially with the ‘what if the victim was someone weak’ statement,” Katsuki answered, taking one of her pillows and wrapping his arms around it. “You didn’t have to say that, you know.”
“What? And have you get all the spotlight?” she raised a teasing eyebrow to her brother. “There’s no way I’ll let you have all the fame.”
The boy sat up, and was about to hit his sister with the pillow before realizing that she is still holding the mug. “I’m just saying! I get what the heroes were trying to say. Even if they tried, none of them had the quirk to counter that sludge. It’s unfortunate, but they did everything they could.”
Mitsuko put the mug down and crossed her arms. “I just hate the idea of just watching someone struggle and nearly die. I hate to say this but even Deku had more balls than those heroes.”
“That damn nerd is an idiot! Don’t even remind me of him! You should have seen his face. The moron was obviously terrified. And he had the guts to dream about getting into U.A. Thinking about it makes me want to puke,” her brother exclaimed.
“Well, at least he tried to do something,” she said in a low voice, facing away from her twin. “I couldn’t even do anything. I was frozen in my spot, my mind was all over the place and I couldn’t think straight. I don’t know what I would do if something bad did happen to you with me there.” She doesn’t want to admit it, but she felt guilty that she didn’t react faster to help him, when she knew damn well that her brother would’ve done everything he could if it was her in that position. 
“Don’t be stupid,” Katsuki sat up straight, whirling her chair around so they could face each other. “It’s over and I’m fine, stop overthinking things. Besides, that’s why we train right? So we can handle our own shit and not rely on each other every time,” her brother looked at her in the eyes with a serious expression. “Not that I need it, cause I’m stronger than you,” he added and his face grew into an annoying grin. 
“Don’t kid yourself,” Mitsuko rolled her eyes before drinking her milk chocolate ‘till the bottom’s up. “The reason I train is so I can become a better hero than those ones earlier. Someone who is able to help in any situation,” she added. It has always been the twins’ dream to become the best heroes. As kids, they used to role play with one twin playing as the hero who rescues the other and vice versa. 
“That reminds me, did you fill up those forms they gave to the classes earlier? The one where you put your school of choice for high school?” her brother asked.
“Yep. Obviously I only put U.A. and nothing else. I’m sure I’ll get in easily. Wouldn’t it be funny if I passed and you didn’t? That would be embarrassing,” she replied, teasing her twin again.
Knowing that she had finished her drink, Katsuki hit her with the pillow he’s been holding. “Like I’d fucking let that happen! And if you didn’t pass I would definitely not want to be seen with you, either!” he yelled and stood up to walk towards the door. “I’m going to bed. Don’t you dare stay up late! We have our morning run tomorrow! I swear I will literally throw you out of your bed if you’re not up!”
Mitsuko laughed, proud that she successfully annoyed her brother once again. “How the hell am I supposed to sleep now? You just gave me a chocolate drink!”
“That’s why I put milk in it you idiot!” Katsuki screamed before shutting the door. 
***
Like her usual routine, Mitsuko woke up before the crack of dawn, but this time she had dark circles under her eyes making it evident that she stayed up later than normal. Despite her twin’s advice to not read the comments under the viral video, she was too stubborn and still decided to go through them. The public’s opinion was mixed up, there were some who criticized her for being ungrateful. While some applauded her for being able to speak up and call the heroes out, which started debates on whether or not heroes are competent enough to do their job.
Part of her felt guilty for what she did, maybe she was wrong for lashing out at the heroes before knowing their side of the story. After all, they were pros, they knew better than she does. Now those heroes are getting hate comments on the internet because of her.
However, another part of her has too much ego and refuses to admit she did anything wrong. If there’s one thing Mitsuko hates, it’s people not living up to what they said they would do. Those pro-heroes became heroes because they exerted efforts to have their licenses and work as professionals. If they can’t do anything about a simple incident, then maybe they should just find another job.
An impatient knock on her door pulled her out of her thoughts. “Yeah, yeah, I’ll be right out,” she stood in front of her mirror to put her hair up, grabbed a face towel and walked out of her room.
She walked down the stairs to see Katsuki standing by the front door holding a piece of toast on his left hand, while he munches on another with his right hand. Mitsuko eyed him, and chuckled at the very similar outfit they were wearing.
“Wow, Suki. You really love idolizing me, huh?” she teased, taking the toast from her brother.
Both of them wore black tank tops, gray jogging pants, and the same pair of shoes that they got last Christmas. It’s not rare for them to have some twin telepathy moment, but it was still amusing.
“Shut the fuck up! I finished before you did so if anything it’s you that’s copying me!” Katsuki flicked her forehead before heading out, lowering his voice so he doesn’t wake their parents up.
The twins started jogging, and by the time they reached the beach, the sun could be seen in the horizon. The stopped by the shore and did some stretching. Mitsuko faced the sun rise, her head held high and arms stretching out on both sides. When the sun rays hit her skin, she took a deep breath and felt the energy fill her system like she’s a battery getting charged up. Her brother, continuing his stretches, watched her skin glow as bright as the morning sun.
Despite being twins, Katsuki and Mitsuko had different quirks. While Katsuki can produce nitroglycerin-like sweat and can make them explode on command, Mitsuko’s pores absorb sunlight and act like solar panels. She converts the sunlight into her own energy, which she then can create into solar barriers and blasts. Having sunlight to absorb is essential for her quirk, so doing a run before sunrise has become her routine. Since sweating opens up her pores and she gets the best amount of energy from sunrise.
The girl opened her eyes, and faced her twin, her body still glowing from the absorption. “We better come up with a new training plan if we want to get into U.A.” she told him, not feeling satisfied with her current physical condition.
“We have a few months. The written exam is a piece of cake, I doubt that we would have a hard time passing that one,” her brother replied. When it comes to academics, both of them can pass anything with no efforts. “It’s the practical exam you should worry about, because I’ll definitely beat you.”
“Stop being delusional, the only thing you’re good at is acting like a rabid chihuahua,” Mitsuko tried hiding her laugh but failed.
“THE FUCK DOES THAT MEAN!?” before Katsuki could do anything, his sister had already sprinted away from him. “COME BACK HERE YOU LITTLE SHIT!” he screamed at the top of his lungs. He ran after her, small explosions coming out of his balled fists. “I’M GOING TO KILL YOU!”
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sharonccrter · 3 days
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The thing that strikes me about Taylor is how insensitive it is and how she is talking about mental health. Did she really love Joe? Because it seemed to me she was eager for a marriage she could show off and was mad that Joe’s mental health was getting in the way of that. Because if Joe was the person she could see herself getting married to and having children with then I am sure you could have found a better way to overcome it together other than fantasize over a racist man.
I personally I’m on a long term relationship (5 years) and a few months ago I got into this very heavy depression and it was ruining our relationship. I became really closed off, in constant bad mood and didn’t notice much that my partner was also struggling with that. I constantly felt like a burden and like I wasn’t making them happy anymore. Dating someone with mental health issues isn’t a walk in the part. It got so bad that I couldn’t eat sometimes and got panic attacks very frequently. But we spoke a lot, reestablished if we wanted to be together and decided that yes we’ll work on it. I went to therapy and have been taking prescriptions (only now at times when I’m feeling particularly anxious) and I’ll say our relationship has gotten way better now. And also myself. So reading lyrics like “get your sht together so I can love you” is really weird because does that mean mentally ill people cannot be loved? That he suddenly is another person to her? Don’t know Taylor, I wouldn’t want to marry you either if this is the way you act at the first sign of trouble.
Here's the thing, I do think she loved him. Have you ever heard of the theory that famous people get emotionally stunted at the age they become famous? Because I think in the case of ts, it's a solid theory. If you hear "The Alchemy" and "So High School", the two songs written for Travis, you can see how she craves being the 'cool kid,' she wants to be the cheerleader with the footballer boyfriend. She's still acting like she's a teenager.
Going back to the theory that she was emotionally stunted in her teens, I do think she loved Joe; did she love him enough? No. She's clearly very self-obsessed, and there are times when she can be self-aware. For example, in her Instagram post, she admits that a lot of the wounds were self-inflicted. The only grace I will give her is being with someone with MH issues is hard, and it's not for everyone. But she could have left at any point. Clearly, Joe's MH got worse or had a bad spell during the end of their relationship.
If that was too much for her, she should have left. She didn't have to run into the arms of a sewer rat before their relationship was even really over. She didn't have to make out he'd wronged her, or write songs giving away details of Joe's struggle which were private.
I think ts needs to grow up.
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sgtmickeyslaughter · 2 days
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66 and 84🥹?
Hi anon! i hope its satifsying to get your prompt answered after a week, i just didnt like this and didnt know how to end it but ive accepted that im not going to make it any better and here you go!
84. Show me what’s behind your back + 66. How could I ever forget about you?
Ian held out for so, so long, he’d like that on the record. 
He didn't know about it until they moved into the westside apartment. His alarm bells started going off when he noticed Mickey being careful with something. It was unusual for Mickey, who usually threw his shit around without a care and it made Ian’s Mickey specific senses prick up. 
He’d subtly tracked Mickey’s movements as they unpacked, knowing that if Mickey was bothering to try to hide something, there was no point in asking from the jump because he wouldn’t get answer. 
And Ian trusted his husband, and was making a point to show that, so if Mickey wanted to hide the little unlabeled tin somewhere Ian wouldn’t find it (in the hollowed out contents of a book and buried in his nightstand, Ian wasn’t a saint and there was no logical explanation for Mickey owning a book that big) Ian would let him have that, it’s not like the contents of that tin would be life or death, right?
That’s what Ian kept telling himself when Mickey disappeared one night. He was supposed to be with Sandy and back in time for dinner, but there Ian was at midnight, wondering where the hell his husband was. 
He’d exhausted, his options; calling Mickey, calling Sandy, calling Debbie and Lip, and finally calling the hospital. Nothing. No one was answering.
So Ian stretched his mind to what kind of trouble his husband could be getting into, and it kept going back to that little mystery tin. 
Fuck it. Ian creeped down the hallway, keeping his footsteps light from nerves even though he was the only one home. Once he finally rifled through Mickey’s nightstand, searching through miscellaneous pens and notebooks and half eaten protein bars Ian told him to throw away weeks ago, he found the big heavy book tucked all the way in the back. 
Smoothing his thumb over the cover, Ian tried to make out what it originally said. Maybe cigars? Or bullets, knowing Mickey. It was bigger than a mint tin but smaller than a lunchbox and rusting lightly around some of the corners. 
Cautiously lifting the lid, Ian peered in curiously, all thoughts of it possibly holding the secret to Mickey’s location fading away as he took in the contents. 
It had Mickey’s birth certificate, for one. Mikhalio Aleksander Milkovich. August 10th 1994. Cook County, born at 3:36 am. There was a white lighter, which didn’t have any gas left in it, but Ian kind of recognized it from when they were kids. There was a photo of a woman with dark hair, standing unsmilingly in front of a white wall. A little green army man, like the ones that littered Ian’s childhood bedroom, and a photo of Mickey and Mandy that must’ve been taken on Mandy’s first phone, judging from the quality. 
An old strip of paper with a phone number, a GED with Mickey’s name on it which made Ian’s eyebrows raise. An ID with a photo of younger Mickey that listed him as Casimir Bukowski. And finally, a very, very old photo of Ian, with a beanie and a smirk, flipping off the camera like he thought he was the shit. 
There were a couple of water stains, and places where the shitty inkjet paper was faded nearly white, but it was obviously him. 
“What the fuck are you doing?” 
Ian whipped around and closed the tin behind him as he faced his husband.
“Nothing,” he defended immediately. “What the fuck are you doing back so late? I was worried.”
“Got fucking trashed with Sandy” Mickey said. “Had to listen to her fucking dyke drama.”
“You should have called me!” Ian insisted angrily. 
“What’re are you hiding?” Mickey slurred curiously. 
“I am not-” Ian started indignantly, cheeks heating up.
“Show me what’s behind your back” Mickey ordered.
“Your mystery box” Ian admitted, throwing the tin onto their comforter. 
Mickey snorted inelegantly, walking over to join Ian and sitting on his side of the bed, stumbling slightly. 
Pulling the box into his lap, Mickey shuffled through the contents halfheartedly “it’s not a mystery, it’s just my shit.”
“You don’t have to hide it,” Ian said quietly, sitting next to him. 
“Force of habit” Mickey explained away.
Chewing his lip, Ian debated how to bring up the photo that shocked him the most “that’s a really old picture, you can have a new one.”
“I’ve had it for a while,” Mickey said unhelpfully, like that explained it.
“How’d you even get it?”
“Mandy printed it out, I guess she took it” Ian tried to think back and vaguely remembered Mandy pointing a shitty snapshot camera at him before she made him take photos of her. “I stole it after you left, for the army.”
Mickey was looking at the photo now, rubbing his thumb over the worn paper. “I wanted to see you, I guess,” he admitted quietly. 
“I thought you forgot about me,” Ian said honestly.
“How could I forget about you?” Mickey asked honestly, finally looking up to meet Ian’s eyes with a wide, unfocused look. 
“I don’t know” Ian said, not really understanding his own motivations entirely, looking back. But also not ready to admit he assumed everyone forgot about him, even his own family. 
“Thought about you every day,” Mickey said quietly. 
But now he thought about Mickey sitting alone and looking at a photo of him in between moments of pretending, hiding in his own house from the wife he didn’t want and a father who despised him. 
“You really love me, huh?” Ian asked, peering curiously over at his husbands face. 
Mickey finally looked up, meeting his gaze with a smirk. “’s what I’ve been trying to tell you, Gallagher.”
For a second, Ian was so overwhelmed with emotion he couldn’t stand to look at him, so Ian bumped his shoulder against Mickey’s, smiling bashfully as he over corrected and nearly fell off the bed.
“You’re fucking trashed” Ian accused. 
“Been drinking around you losers too much” Mickey defended tiredly, rubbing absentmindedly at his face.
“Yeah?” Ian asked sweetly, amusedly watching his husband fade into sleep in real time.
“M’yeah” Mickey agreed.
Ian kissed his head for a second before getting up and kneeling in front of him.
“Oh, I love you Ian, but there’s no way I’m gonna’ be able to do that” Mickey mumbled, blinking slowly down at him.
Ian just grinned and started unlacing his boots, knowing that Mickey was about fifteen seconds away from curling up on their clean comforter with dirty shoes. 
“You want some leftovers?” Ian asked once he finished taking off his husbands shoes. 
“I thought I wasn’t allowed to eat in the bed,” Mickey said tauntingly, digging his sock covered toes into Ian’s thigh. 
Ian fixed him with a glare until Mickey shook his head. Ian shrugged and helped Mickey out of his jacket and jeans, and rolled him into the center of the bed before he padded quietly into their bathroom to take his nighttime meds. 
When he got back into the bedroom, Mickey was sound asleep, snoring and drooling slightly against Ian’s pillow in the dim yellow light.
thanks for asking!
writers ask game
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In lostys universe, Gare and El are long distance during some of their college years.
Do they ever have any big fights or miscommunication during that period?? Any conversations about what their future together will look like as the years peel away to adulthood? Just curious 🥰♥️
Still loving that greatmage lore 💜🩷
Ohh girl this made me think A LOT. because my first instinct was to be like “noooo my pookies never fight!” but that’s completely unrealistic. So I dug deep and came up with a few ideas… and of course it got really long so I’m putting it under a readmore…
- I think their biggest fights would be about money, but not in the typical way a young couple fights about money! In both Next Time I Fall and Lost and Found I alluded to El and Kali getting large settlements of “hush money” from Hawkins Lab, and at the end of Next Time El even suggests to Gareth that they use some of that money to get married. But it’s the late 80s and I’m sure Hopper had repeatedly impressed upon Gareth the importance of The Man Being The Breadwinner and the need to Properly Take Care Of His Daughter, so Gareth wouldn’t feel right about letting El pay for anything.
Finally El sits both Hopper and Gareth down one day and tells them look, Chrissy helped me find this super cute house and I can easily afford it so I’m gonna buy it. Gareth, you’re welcome to live there with me if you can get over your pride about it. And Dad, you need to mind your own beeswax. (Will taught her that phrase, and he almost chokes trying to hold back his laughter when he hears her repeat it.)
- Another thing I can imagine is the long-distance thing just wearing on both of them (they’re cuddly koalas and they can’t stand being apart for too long) but I could see that manifesting in different ways. For El, I think insecurity would be something she’d struggle with; especially if school interfered with time they wanted to spend together, she would feel neglected and get a little pouty about Gare thinking his work was more important than her. And I can imagine if he got impatient or exasperated about that, her mind would immediately leap to “you don’t love me anymore?” She needs a lot of reassurance after everything she’s been through.
But this, I think, would probably lead to Gareth never wanting to speak up about his own needs or problems, because he does truly want to be that steadfast source of reassurance for her, but also sometimes he feels a little resentful, as if she doesn’t trust him enough to keep loving her even when he’s irritated. And then that makes him wonder if she feels that way because of everything with Mike, and he gets pouty thinking she’s comparing him to Mike. Oh, kiddos.
- I imagined all of this coming to a head one weekend when Gareth wasn’t planning to come home because he was exhausted and had a ton of work to do, but El getting upset with him and kinda giving him a guilt trip about it until finally he gives in and says okay fine I’m coming. But he’s so tired that he ends up falling asleep behind the wheel and getting into a minor accident, which naturally freaks El out, and I think that would lead to a very deep heart-to-heart talk where they both end up resolving to communicate more honestly about their needs, and trust that their relationship can withstand temporary separation when needed.
- On a much happier note, conversations about the future!
I know a lot of people headcanon El as wanting tons of kids, but for some reason I imagine that pregnancy would be total body-horror for her. (Maybe I’m drawing that from my personal life? Lmao) I do believe she’d want a family of her own though, and I think she and Gare would have a lot of conversations about fostering and/or adoption to help troubled kids. And there’s a lovely fic that was gifted to me about the two of them preparing to welcome their first foster child.
I think they’d want pets, too— I imagine them going to an animal shelter just to look around, and El overhearing an employee saying “nobody will ever adopt this one, these dogs are monsters.” She instantly demands to see the monster dog, and of course it’s not a monster at all, it’s the cutest tiny little pit bull puppy, and El and Gare instantly fall in love with her and name her Bosco since she’s chocolate brown. 😊
I think El would have a lot of trouble deciding what she wanted to do after high school, as far as more schooling or a career or what, and they’d have a lot of discussions about that.
And of course they’d talk about traveling— there’s so many places they both want to see, and experiences they want to have for the first time together. Also I think it would be super cute if they went to Wales with Granny and Granddad Emerson to visit relatives and friends there. 🏴󠁧󠁢󠁷󠁬󠁳󠁿
This got way longer than I thought it would lmao but thank you so much for asking! I always love sharing my ideas and headcanons with you! 💕
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marypaol · 10 hours
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Fingers Through Your Hair
Draco x Fem!Reader
Summary: Reader plays with Draco’s hair while he sleeps.
Warnings: Watching/touching/admiring someone while they sleep? Mention of suspense while reading a book, tenseness during slumber, mention of being trapped, think that’s it. :)
Sorry if it’s too short, I kinda rushed it. Hope you guys enjoy!
Masterlist
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The stack of pages was held in her hands, twinkling eyes scanning the pages as her mind took in the exciting story. Pale fingers was tracing mindless shapes on the skin of her arm, the pace changing every minute or so.
The climax was just on the verge of happening, eyeballs practically skipping over sentences as she died to know what happened next. The face to face encounter of the protagonist and the antagonist was too great, her brain wiring at the information being sprayed at her. Her stomach twisted, eyes danced, and she could feel sweat building on her head. Her eyes widened, the story revealing a secret that she couldn’t bear to face or figure out. Or, that’s what some people would think. She of course hadn’t had any trouble figuring the secrets of the book, digging through the clues that were dropped casually throughout the story and putting them together to make a puzzle picture that was just discovered to most readers. (But not to her of course. She already figured it all out.)
For the reason of her eyes widening was the fact that she got it correct, her assumptions and theories she gathered turned out to be right the whole time.
She found herself lost in the pages that the book had to offer, truly getting sucked in the imaginary world the author created for entertainment.
But wouldn’t it be lovely and truly divine, she thought, setting the book down once she finished it. If the world that was so imaginative and fictional was real?
She sighed at the thought, picturing herself trapped in a tower in a dark abandoned land, looking hopelessly out the window for her lover to arrive and successfully rescue her.
For she knew who would come and serve her right. He would be the only person who would, not that others wouldn’t try only to face him.
But platinum hair was best suited for her, for she wouldn’t have any other interests but he.
Thinking of him now, she just then discovered that his fingers halted their movements not too long before, and her mind couldn’t help but wonder what the purpose was.
She looked over at her love, only to find him in soft gentle slumber, eyelashes tangled together as his pillow lips parted for a quiet breath.
She smiled soft, hand reaching over to cover him more with the blanket he had himself wrapped in, only for it to previously roll down his shoulders.
She then laid down softly next to him, her elbow holding her up as she used the same arm to place it near his head, almost like she was protecting him.
The face of her love was closer to her, so she now noticed the soft crease in his eyebrows, along sided with the visible tenseness on his shoulders. She shook her head softly, for that simply couldn’t do, and so she pointed out her pinky finger and reached for his forehead. Her finger practically brushed his skin, in between his eyebrows, stroking the crease away as she watch a sense of peace come over him, his eyebrows raising in a calming manner.
She smiled then, knowing he was peaceful now because of her doing.
She then lent forward, lips puckering as she pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead, fingers uncontrollably going to his hair strands. His hair was very soft, and how he kept it that she didn’t know, but that was his secret to keep because she simply liked wondering how he did it. Once her fingers reached a soft knot in his strands, most likely from his hands digging into his hair anxiously throughout the day, she was worried if she undid it with her fingers it would wake him up, so she carefully grabbed her wand, wood smooth beneath her finger tips.
She pointed the tip to his hair, whispering soft Charms as she watched the strands undo themselves. She smiled soft, putting her wand away as it was now long forgotten, her mind swarming with thoughts of her lover.
She sighed contently, fingers brushing through his hair slowly.
A intake of breath was heard, forcing her attention to his soft face. It scrunched up for a second, eyes fluttering as his silver eyes opened. He blinked a couple times, moonlight reflecting in his pupils making his orbs sparkle. He felt the touch in his hair, the extra blanket covering him, and his eyes met hers.
His lips curved into a soft smile, left hand reaching for her as it soon rested on her thigh, stroking the skin through the fabric.
“Hey, loves.” His voice was groggy and deep, but she liked it. She replied with a smile, fingers moving in his hair once again.
A sigh escaped his lips, head turning to rest near her chest, chasing for warmth. She kissed his forehead once again, mouth leaning towards his ear. The skin was warm on her lips as she whispered the truth. “I love you.”
She felt his lips stretch into a soft smile against her clothes, so she smiled too. His smile always made her smile, despite if she could see it or not.
“Oh but I love you most.” He mumbled into her shirt, voice muffled but she heard him all too well.
A flush came about her cheeks, traveling to her ears.
“Doubt it.” She replied, despite her red face.
Draco answered with a hum. Either he didn’t hear her, or did and chose to ignore it.
“You smell good loves; new shampoo perhaps?”
“Draco, I’ve been using this shampoo since First Year.”
Draco hummed again, snuggling his face into her neck. She heard him sniff as he smelled her hair again. “Mm? First Year? I should smell your hair more often loves.”
The girl rolled her eyes, stroking the hair on the back of his neck. She kissed it, keeping her mouth pressed there as her nose touched his warm skin.
“Ahh. This feels nice.” Draco murmured. She then felt him smirk into her neck. “What do you say we do this more often?”
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awek-s · 5 months
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ohhhh desperately need to leave this house before i kill myself I fear it’s coming 🤣🤣
#had kind of a huge fight w my mom over like mental#illness and like I ended up letting out all the anger I feel at the fact that she didn’t take me to the hospital to get diagnosed when I was#15 despite me begging her to. so I had to wait til I went to university to get diagnosed. which is 90% of the reason I’m struggling to live#so much nowadays. and obviously she was like. uh I don’t remember that! and the more detail I told her the quieter and less defensive she#got. bc she knows I’m right.#this all started bc one of her friends’ older son just got diagnosed w schizophrenia and she was like if that was me I wouldn’t have stuck#by him so long I would’ve kicked him out long ago . and I snorted and I was like yeah I know you wouldn’t have just like you didn’t for me#nd I told her to just stop talking about shit she doesn’t know fucking anything about. bc obviously she doesn’t think her friend’s son is#actually sick. im talking SICK sick like meds won’t work and he keeps getting in serious trouble w the law. and my mom is an asshole she#thinks all sick ppl use it as an excuse bc she thinks only her life experiences are valid#im soo fucking sick of it#I’ve wasted my entire life trying to educate her about shit and it just doesn’t stick she just goes and babies herself and im miserable#for my entire existence#I can’t do it anymore like any of it I want to get out of here and live my stupid life#without somebody who reminds me every day that they think I’m a waste of existence lmao#mrow.org
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