#like my own pets wouldn’t know it was me by smell alone

[beenbaanbuun]

worship w/ mingi

words - …

genre - smut

warnings - body worship (m! receiving), mingi’s tummy, alcohol (no one is drunk), mingi’s thighs, foot job (f! receiving), marking, biting, hair pulling, praise, pet names

NOT PROOF READ!!! i forgot to tag this so i woke up and was upset people were ignoring it then i realised it’s bc i’m just a little bit dumb :D

———————————————————

sitting between mingi’s thighs with your hands massaging the thick muscles, your lips pressed just under his naval as you worship his tummy. he’s petting your hair with one of his big hands, a tumbler glass of whisky in the other. every so often he takes a sip, smacking his lips as the warm liquid flows down his neck, pooling in his stomach, just beneath where you’re lazily running your lips back and forth.

he’s not too sure what brought this on, and he’s not sure where it’ll go. what he does know, however is that he likes it. he likes having you between his legs worshipping the parts of his body that he himself doesn’t love. he likes hearing your little whimpers, feeling your warm lips against his bare skin. the bite of your fingers digging into his thighs and the softness of your hair beneath his palm. it’s intoxicating, the feeling of that alone doing more to addle his mind than the alcohol. you’re intoxicating…

“you’re so hot,” you whine as you lightly rub your nose against the smooth flesh. you love the way his skin smells, like honey and milk, soft and soothing and warm. it’s everything that he is as a person. you plant another kiss along the waistband of his pants. “love your body, mingi… so soft and pretty…”

he gives you a questioning hum, to which you respond by licking a fat stripe up to his naval. his skin is salty with residual sweat from the day, but you don’t care. in fact, you’d be lying if you said you didn’t rather enjoy it. having the taste of him on your tongue sends your brain spinning. you want more of it because it’s mingi.

your mingi.

teeth scrape against the soft skin of his tummy and you can’t help but bite down. there’s a deep grunt from somewhere above you, fingers lacing into your hair to give it a sharp tug. it’s hard, but not enough so to hurt. really, it’s just a little warning for you to behave, as if mingi is expecting you to get carried away with yourself. so even though you hardly want to, you let go with your teeth, instead soothing the little indents with your tongue. fuck he tastes so good, you think to yourself. a guttural moan slips out of your throat as you languidly mouth at his stomach.

“fucking hell, princess,” he slurs as he watches you closely. with your eyes clamped shut and your lips moving so desperately, it’s not hard for him to see just how much pleasure you’re getting from this. he wouldn’t be surprised if you’re already dripping down there, panties sticking to your slick folds as your cunt goes ignored. you don’t seem bothered if that is the case, too desperate to worship mingi to even think about yourself. god, you’re adorable. “you treat me so well, don’t you? my pretty one making me feel so loved… do you like this? making your baby boy feel good? fuck, i bet you’re so wet!”

not wanting to pull away just yet, you just nod against him. your nose runs against the sensitive skin, tickling him just a little. he squirms ever so slightly, but your grip on his thighs does a pretty good job of keeping him in place on the couch. it seems you’ve taken a leaf out of his book; he who loves nothing more than to pin you down when he’s eating you out, pleasuring you until you literally can’t take any more. he chuckles at how cute you are, using his own tricks against him.

god, he’s so in love with you.

“you’re so sweet, princess,” he coos as you take his skin between your lips, suckling on it, intent on making your mark on him. he’s fine with that; it makes him happy to know you want to mark him up. to make him yours physically, just as he already is yours mentally. it’s precious; you’re precious. he wants to give you more. “do you want to cum, princess?”

the question is so nonchalant that it almost doesn’t twig in your brain. he says it as casually as he would if asking you anything else. do you want a glass of water? do you want to eat dinner? do you want to cum? it almost slips in one ear and straight out the other… almost.

but the ache between your thighs is only growing, and your hands are too busy to deal with it yourself. you find yourself nodding again, humming gently against his skin. he smiles again, the overwhelming love he feels for you expressing itself in a face-splitting, cheek-aching grin. “you want to ride my foot?” you give him another nod.

he wastes no time in moving the appendage, lacking any sort of grace as he stuffs it between your thighs and presses it tightly against your clit. you keen against his stomach and it’s music to his ears. the amount of pride he feels when pleasing you is incomparable to anything else. he can play you like a guitar, knowing exactly where to touch to pull all those cute little sounds from you. the way you whimper as he begins to rub it back and forth against you only goes to prove his point.

“good girl,” he hums before tipping the last of the whisky down his throat. it burns, but he can’t focus on that when you’re being so good for him. his perfect little princess.

#ateez x reader #ateez fanfic #ateez oneshot #ateez fluff #ateez scenarios #ateez smut #ateez headcanons #mingi x reader #mingi fluff #mingi smut #mingi scenarios

[comfortless]

sylly (like silly yk yk) what are your könig hcs? 🌹

SYLLY?! i…. Ok…. fair warning this is a little long… all that i do is think about this guy someone get him out of my head.

tread carefully reading this! there is a lot of sensitive content here: mental health stuff, abuse, mentions of sex and pornographic material, suicidal ideation, etc etc.

Generic, silly headcanons:

He prefers coffee (black) over tea, but he does have a bit of a sweet tooth (will never resist caramel if it’s presented to him). Honestly, he’s pretty self-reliant when it comes to food, too. On lazy days, he makes enough to where a takeout bill is hardly a concern, but for the most part he cooks! Not a chef by any means, but nothing he ever makes is bad!

Definitely wants a big, loving family, the polar opposite of what he had growing up as an only child in a far less than perfect household. Not a dealbreaker, but he does yearn for all of the love that he’s missed out on and then some.

Not big on video games, but… I do think he is absolutely spending every lonely leave playing Elder Scrolls. Would be so easy to convince to go larping or to a renfaire. I see everyone’s car/bike guy headcanons and I raise you… obsessed with fantasy König. He loves history and myth!! Why not combine the two and see him in chainmail.

The scent & kink posts. But to add… he’s an affectionate biter. (,: Knows the correct places to do so that won’t cause damage or hurt too terribly much. Likes to sniff you just as well! The embodiment of the “merge souls with me” post; in love, he just wants to feel you any way that he can and have some part of you lingering on him, even if it’s just a stray hair or your scent clinging to his shirt or pillowcase.

Cheating is never on this guy’s mind when he’s in a relationship. If he’s found a lady not running for the hills the second she catches sight of him, that’s his one and only. Sure, he may find himself attracted to someone else at some point or other during the duration of a relationship, but he’s devoted and disciplined! There’s never the fear of anyone coming in between he and his lover. He’ll spoil you with gifts, clingy to a point it’s overbearing, always giving you the utmost care… but is not opposed to bullying you into being a submissive, trembling mess either. He’s balanced!

Adores animals. Like any of them. There’s a special place in his heart for cats, but having a constant companion that he can take on hikes like a large dog would be ideal. Would definitely consider owning a tarantula or a snake, too. ^^ He isn’t scared of anything, let alone a creature that most are misinformed about… (he projects a little..). He would treat them just as well as anyone would treat a more “normal” pet. Understanding if you wouldn’t want to hold a giant arachnid (they’re delicate and you squirming over it would make him a bit protective over the poor thing. ): ), but it would mean a lot to him if you were more accepting.

König would not be a pretty sight (to most people) the majority of the time… I doubt that he takes care of himself past training his body and his allotted one-two minute military showers. His character description describes what is rumored to be under his mask as scary. Let him have his buzzcut, and scars, and teeth or old wounds a little too fucked up to fix! Unconventionally attractive is still attractive! (i think his ‘face reveal’ is actually so cute…)

Lots of sporadic little thoughts, but… Ambidextrous, can not ride a bike, whistles/hums to fill lapses of silence, flexes his fingers/cracks his knuckles when he’s nervous, definitely snores (loudly), brushes his teeth like 3-4 times a day (when he can) because he eats so much, not a picky eater at all, thinks it’s cute if you’re affectionately a little grossed out by him from time to time, absolutely the kind of person that thinks fuel and fire smell good, fluent in English and German but certainly knows many words and phrases from other languages.

Kind of clumsy. Overthinks the way his body looks to the point where sometimes his movements are a little stiff. Overestimates how tall a door frame may be if he’s distracted in the presence of others, hits his head and plays it off like he didn’t even notice. He’s (obviously) highly confident on the field, but in regular circumstances it’s totally reversed.

Though. Yeah. Sometimes this does translate onto the field. Can’t stay in one place for too long, once knocked an enemy soldier out by barreling into him. He’s a quick shot, skillful with any weapon that falls into his hands, but his focus can get a little skewed.

He collects some things. Nothing exactly pricy, but antique knives, coins, and a pocket watch or two. And he isn’t the most apt at putting things together in an appealing way… The first time you’re allowed into his house it looks like he’s robbed some vintage hunting shop/is planning something nefarious with the way he’s just got a few daggers strewn about his kitchen table. Just push them to the side, it’s fine! (His favorite is certainly one with a handle carved from a stag’s antler.)

Definitely takes a physical approach to bad feelings. @melancholic-thing mentioned to me that he bites himself when he’s feeling dejected or frustrated and yeah. (All of Ghost’s hcs for him are factually correct.) Not going to punch a hole through the wall but may aggressively slam a door or raise his voice before he can catch himself.

I have many thoughts about König’s childhood/early adulthood. Like, too many. But to summarize…

I think that everyone experiences bullying to an extent but what would make it so bad that it managed to make its way into the scraps that we do have of him? What made him so fundamentally unlikable to his peers? /: With my König I’ve settled on it being a blend of neurodivergency and a nightmare home life and alienation from his peers.

Height is predominantly viewed as a good trait. I don’t think it was necessarily his appearance at all that got him picked on so heavily (albeit… I do think that he would have had some scars, crooked teeth, regular facial bruising or cuts from scraps with other children/his father). Perhaps not the most conventionally attractive guy around, but normally viewed as a solid 5/10, just average. The kind of person who you wouldn’t remember from just a face alone.

His personality was always memorable though.

Whilst the other children/teenagers were interested in the regular trends, sports, whatever was shown on the television or heard on the radio at the time, I think he probably would have had a great interest in escapism!!

Comics, books, researching history and geography, etc, anything that could keep him from thinking of where he was/what other people viewed him as. He had a lot of strange things to say: odd facts (like the kind of person to tell you the longest word in the dictionary because he thinks it’s cool, “um actually—“ to correct something, monologuing about some bug you’ve just squashed and how it was not just a pest but very useful in nature, borderline concerning reactions to being shunned (feigned threats of violence that he would laugh off, things he’s probably heard from media and his own parents), over explaining himself for the simplest of misunderstandings, and… quoting his Oma’s very old-fashioned turns of phrase (think of little Kö regularly saying “Du gehst mir tierisch auf den Keks.” when he’s annoyed whereas the others say things far less dated like “Du gehst mir auf den Sack.”)

With him being difficult to relate to and having the most uncanny things slip out of his mouth, others probably did view him as a bit of a freak. He didn’t particularly stand up for himself often either apart from a few fights (and would never hit a girl). He would stay quiet, pretend to focus on his studies or whatever else was before him while the other children jeered and taunted. Regularly a target for fake confessions and offers to hang out outside of school, too.

König did have crushes, did have people he thought were cool and wanted to befriend, but after the third time of showing up someplace that he had to walk to on his own to find that no one had actually wanted to spend their time with him, he gave up.

I don’t think he had a good relationship with his parents or much of anyone. Seriously, leaving for the military at seventeen sets off a ton of alarm bells! He left the week of his Oma’s passing, because what else was there for him — no girlfriend, no prospects, hardly a relationship with his mother or father.

His father was your standard shit parent— womanizing, loud, physically abusive towards König. “Bonding” activities with him always had a heavy lean towards violence: hunting and arguing that usually resulted in fist fighting his own son seemed to be his favorites. A small man with an equally small ego— he probably would have boasted about his affairs to König, exposed him to pornography as a way of making sure his son wasn’t anything other than straight (which: never stopped his curiosity). He would never hold back from telling König that he would never in a million years find a girl willing to put up with his supposed stupidity and shortcomings. Generally just viewed his own son as utterly worthless if not for use as a punching bag.

In turn, König always loathed him, would dread hearing the bastard just walking around the house because he knew he would always find something to bicker with his wife or son over. Nothing that they ever did would be deemed correct, and his social anxiety initially developed from his dealings with him.

His mother was withdrawn, emotionally neglectful. König was just… there to her; another mouth to feed, another person begging for the attention she would have rather spared on herself.

She wasn’t a bad mother and she did try, but the product of dealing with his father’s nonsense + letting her own mental illness go unchecked (as in, his father controlled the family financially and why would he let her blow through their funds to see a therapist and “lose her lucidity with pills and ridiculous talks”). There were some days when she would be feeling more like herself and take König along with her for walks through the park where she would try to ask him about his life, about school, and… he would end up spilling his guts to her only for her to return to silence. Still, those were his favorite days. His fondest memory was picking a flower for her on one of those walks, one that she kept pressed and later framed.

There were never family dinners, no movie nights, no day trips or vacations. The most blissful of days were spent in the comfort of his room where he could keep the door locked and muffle the sounds of his parents arguing with loud music.

So, König did not have much of a safe space within his own home, but he had his Oma and her cluttered little house. She had books and plenty of food, even a cat, too. Though she was like his mother, stern and withdrawn, she would at least sit with him and tell him stories of her own life. She would at least tell him “Ich lieb dich, Käferchen!” in her quiet voice, stroke his head where he would sit with his nose buried in a book beside her. She would show him her dusty antiques, her old photographs, and in turn taught him to be a proper man by making him tend to what needed to be done around her house. And the garden. He loved his Oma’s garden, full of orchids, petunias, and tomatoes she would mash up to make him goulash or tomatensalat!

With Austria’s leading religion being Catholicism, I do think his Oma would have dragged him with her to service plenty, too. Not that he ever particularly enjoyed it… just zoned out with a plastic soldier in his pocket to fidget with or some trading card he spent the money he earned doing chores for her on. He’s never considered himself religious, thought himself to be bound for Hell no matter what, even if most of the time he felt that he was already there.

You take a puppy that’s been beaten down his entire life, but still remains eager and throw him in a barrack with people more horrible than any bully he’s ever had, though…? He starts taking his father’s advice more and more then. He wouldn’t harm anyone that he didn’t view as deserving of it, but it didn’t need to go that far that often, anyway. König is aware of the space he takes up by then, aware that all of his training has made him more broad and sturdy, and those playground fights are nothing compared to what he’s capable of now.

He gets his callsign from a quip about him owning nothing. His barrack is empty, devoid of pictures or any sentimental belongings. He rarely checks his phone, there might be the occasional missed call from a spam number, what is there to even see? He has no social media presence, every leave is spent in a shitty apartment only a days travel from his hometown, and he is utterly silent when the other soldiers invite him out for drinks. So yes, he’s a king. The king of absolutely nothing.

One of these rowdy boys does eventually coax him into talking to a woman. He loses his virginity in a disgusting bar bathroom, where he asks her after the two minutes he’s spent inside of her if it means anything to her at all. She laughs, washes herself in the sink and calms him down, but doesn’t give him her number or anything more than her first name.

He’s starved for love, utterly miserable without it, but doesn’t have much of a desire to seek it out, either. He’s seen how people are, how they treat him. But time and time again he will grapple onto any thread that may lead him to a pinhole of hope when it’s offered to him. For the most part, he has his hand and a perpetually almost-empty bottle of lotion.

And it’s not much of a surprise that König has contemplated suicide more times than he can count. It has never culminated in any way, only fearing that he would disappoint his men, even further disappoint his parents, maybe even a small part of him still believes in a Hell; that maybe with enough vigilantism on his part he’ll earn his way to a pleasant afterlife, one he teeters on the separation of believing in and not.

He doesn’t think about his mental health, always haunted by his father’s words, thinking that assuredly it would make him weak if he were to seek help for something like his own thoughts. So he overexerts himself during workouts, bottles everything other than rage and love inside: no one is going to see him cry, not ever again after being laughed at for him hundreds of times during school where he sat being called an “ugly giant” a “daydreaming freak” and an “idiot” near daily where silent tears did escape, only spurring further laughter.

Though I do not write him with these things in mind for every au, there are always subtle hints scattered about. ^^ I could probably prattle on forever about him, but I will leave you with this for now…

[megamindsecretlair]

Break My Heart

Pairing: Javier Pena x Black!Fem!reader

Warnings: 18+. Minors DNI. You are in charge of your own reading experience. There is smut! PWP, PIV, size kink, kinda toxic, spanking, pet names. Non-inclusive language. Somes sentences are intentional AAVE. Apologies if I missed some.

Summary: You intended to spend New Year's Eve alone, per usual. But Javi's pestering convinced you to have a few drinks with the team. You want to remain strong and resist him but you aren't sure for how long.

Word Count: 3,421k

A/N: Ahhh, my first Pedro fic. This was intimidating! Even after watching more of the show. Be gentle, I'm sensitive 'bout it LOL. This was still fun and so hot and lordt, I need him so badly. Likes are always awesome. Please considering commenting and reblogging to help support writers!

Taglist: @nerdieforpedro @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @browngirldominion @thecookiebratz

“You’re coming to the bar with us, right?” 

You looked up from your desk to see Javi hovering over you, entirely too close. He knows you hate that. He’s always crowding into your space. Leaning too close, leaning that sinful ass on your desk, or bending down to turn those puppy brown eyes on you. 

He smelled like cigarettes and sweat. A combination that shouldn’t be so hot, but here you were. 

“No,” you said with a smile. 

“Come on, you’re hurting my feelings,” he said. He had a sleepy way of talking that immediately turned your thoughts dirty. Thinking of what he must sound like first thing in the morning. But that line of thinking was dangerous. You just hadn’t had a good fucking in a while. 

“Aww, you don’t have any feelings, Javi,” you said. You gave him an extra sugary smile and he huffed a laugh and looked around the office. He leaned his ass against your desk and you sighed loudly for his benefit. 

The office was noisy, filled with agents running around chasing down leads. With your complexion, you were relegated to the office. You were an agent in name only and it pissed you off. The higher ups thought that they could stick you in the ass end of South America and you’d quit.

Joke was on them. You loved the food here and there wasn’t a person alive that could get you to quit being an agent. 

“Maybe I’d have some feelings if you finally agreed to go out with me,” Javi said. 

You wrinkled your nose. You’d happily climb on Peña if he wasn’t such a slut. Not that you were in the market for commitment. The last thing you needed was to get caught up with someone, especially at work, when you were still trying to prove yourself to the agency. 

“I wouldn’t touch you with a ten foot pole, Javi,” you said.

Javier only licked his lips and smiled. His fingers played with a cigarette but all of his attention was on you. “So, what, I need to find an eleven foot pole?” 

You rolled your eyes and fought off your smirk. You didn’t need to encourage him. “What favor do you want this time, Javi?” You asked. 

“I want you to finally say yes! We’ve been working together for years and you won’t even give me the time of day,” he said. 

“Why would I do that?” You asked. Fuck it, the numbers were starting to swim in your head anyway. If Javi was good for anything, it was a distraction. You sat back in your seat and prepared yourself for the Javi show. 

He smirked and turned those puppy eyes up to a thousand. “You know we’d be good together,” he said. His voice even got deeper. 

You weren’t entirely immune to Javier Peña. There were more than a few times that you caught yourself staring at his ass. Or that damn black shirt that clung to him in all the right places. Your favorite time was when he got back to the office from chasing a lead all day. The way he got so flustered and sweaty. The way his hair would plaster to his head and he’d settle into the office with a deep sigh and a soft curse. 

You looked away from him so he wouldn’t see the downright lust in your eyes. No, you were not immune to Javier Peña but everyone knew his vices. You were not trying to be another notch on his belt. 

Your eyes roamed to the desk in front of you. In their infinite wisdom, the higher ups also put you in front of Javi and Murphy’s office. They thought it was real hilarious to wave the lonely Black woman in front of Javi the slut. They were itchin’ to ditch you. That also meant that no one else sat around here. The empty desk in front of you was a dumping ground for random files, donuts, or supplies.

There were times when people left random food there for anyone to snack on. Like now, there was a jar of pickles on the desk abandoned and swimming in pickle juice. You smirked and looked at Javi. 

“Javi, there is no way on the green earth that I would entertain this,” you said.

“Oh yeah? Why’s that?” He asked. 

“Because you’re a pickle,” you said and smirked. 

He laughed and shook his head. “What?” 

“A pickle! You’re like…community pickle,” you said. You waved your hand for him to catch your drift. He just stared at you, patient, focused. It was unnerving to be on the other side of that look. 

Your throat dried and you had the sudden urge to disappear. To leave that sight line. But you forged on. Maybe he’d get insulted and move on. “See that jar? You’re like those pickles. You’re on every burger, every sandwich, readily available,” you said.

Javier tilted his head. “Are you calling me a slut?” 

“Your word, not mine,” you said.

“I didn’t take you for someone who listens to rumors,” Javi said. 

You laughed. “Rumors? Javi, you scream it loud and clear for anyone to hear,” you said. 

Javi waved your comment off. He looked around the office and then slid closer. You leaned back, scooting your chair back. He wore a denim shirt, open at the collar, and his tanned skin showed through. You brought your eyes back to his, though that wasn’t any better. He was a danger to your sanity.

“Come on. Have a drink with me,” he said. 

You sighed and rubbed your head. “We already tried this, Javi,” you said. 

“When?” He asked, sounding offended. 

“Hmm, ‘bout six months after I got here. You asked me out, I said not on your life. We did that surveillance job together and you wore me down. Said let’s meet up and we never did,” you said.

Javi held his hand to his heart. “You’re killing me, princesa. I wouldn’t do that to you,” he said. 

A shiver ran through you and you hated it. You had to be strong around this man, though you really, really didn’t want to. “I’m not mad, Javi, it’s just in your nature.” You stood up and placed your hand on his shoulder. It was a huge mistake, but you pretended to be nonchalant. You tapped his shoulder and walked around him. 

You went to the wall of file cabinets and dug through for the next set of numbers you needed anyway. Javi followed you, getting even closer. He leaned against a cabinet and smiled. 

“I think you’re just scared,” he said.

“Scared of what?” You asked.

“Getting close to us. To me,” he said. His eyes dropped to your mouth. You almost couldn’t believe his audacity. 

You couldn’t help licking your lips and his eyes flicked up to yours. “If I go…”

“Yes!” 

“If I go, you’re buying all of my drinks and you’re keeping your hands to yourself. Got it?” You asked. 

“Scout’s honor,” he said.

“You’ve never been a fuckin’ Boy Scout,” you said.

Javi shrugged and smirked. “You never asked,” he said. He walked backwards, looking at you with that satisfied, smug smile on his face. “See you tonight!” 

Why not, it was New Year’s after all. 

Later that night, you were nervously walking up to the bar. It was a bar friendly enough to Americans. The air was balmy but comfortable and you opted for a short purple dress and short heels. Your purse swung on your shoulder and you mentally prepared yourself to see Javi off the clock.

You knew that other people would be there and you weren’t expecting any funny business, but it was still nerve wracking. You made a career of being ice cold because that was all anyone expected of you. The minute you laughed or - goodness forbid - showed a personality, the guys suddenly remembered that you were a woman. 

You walked inside to a raucous mix of Spanish and English. The words hit you even over the loud music, drinks clinking, and general rowdiness of the bar. You found your group easy enough. They took up an entire corner of the bar. Murphy saw you first. The huge white boy stuck out even more than you did but he seemed to make it work, despite not knowing a lick of Spanish.

He waved you over and you approached the table. Some of the other guys looked you over. Look it over, boys. You inwardly smiled. You knew that you had a great figure that you hid under ugly and boring business suits. It was rare that you got to go out in something pretty for once, so you might have spruced things up more than usual. 

Javi turned to see you, his eyes roaming over your outfit, and you felt the tips of your ears burn. You sat down, immediately swiping Javi’s beer and taking a sip. He let you, still not having said a word.

“Find this place okay?” Murphy asked.

You nodded. “Surprised to see you out too!” You had to yell over the noise but he heard you. 

“Only to show my face. Gonna head home and celebrate with the missus,” he said.

You nodded. You turned your attention to Javi who still hadn’t said anything. “Mad I stole your drink, Javi?” 

Like waking from a stupor, Javi shook his head. “Who knew there was a girl under there,” he said.

You shoved him and rolled your eyes but laughed along with the table. “I’m surprised you can recognize one with her clothes on,” you said.

The guys at the table erupted into laughter. Javi’s personal activities were a well-known fact by this point. Javi waved everyone off.

“Since we’re laughing, we might as well laugh about the prank on poor Murphy,” Javi said.

Your eyes rounded as Javi betrayed you to Murphy. Murphy’s jaw dropped as he looked at you. “That was you?”

“That was all Javi’s idea!” 

“You stand there and accuse me, but where were you at the time?” Oh, he sounded so innocent and wounded.

You tried to kick him under the table but he moved his leg at the last moment. “I was…” You tried to think of a good excuse for your whereabouts as you hid Murphy’s things while Javi kept him distracted. It was an innocent prank, but it had Murphy in a panic.

Everyone snickered and laughed while Murphy hunted and stalked around the office. It was a team effort and you tried to convey that without words while you looked at Javi.

“Wow, real nice,” Murphy said with a smile.

At least he was a sport about it. You glared at Javi but he only smirked. Ass. But it was the icebreaker you needed. The other guys warmed up to you and began to tell you wild stories about their hunt for the elusive Pablo Escobar. It seemed like no matter what they tried, Pablo already bought his way several steps ahead. 

You listened as they told you the sanitized version of some of the skirmishes they got into. How they found people connected to Pablo but each one was too scared to speak. How they were trying to work with the local police but Pablo had more than half of them on the payroll. 

It made you sick that someone could just pay their way to the top like that. It wasn’t lost on any of you that one wrong move and it was your ass. 

True to his word, Javi kept his hands to himself for the most part. He bought you drink after drink, until you finally had to stop and drink some water before you ended up stumbling home. No thank you. You did not need the hangover in the morning, celebrating the new year or not. 

Javi did other things. He shifted in his seat and always managed to brush against your bare leg. He would turn his whole body towards you when you were speaking and then turn completely around when you weren’t. He was driving you nuts and you wanted to smack him.

“What is your deal?” You whispered to him while the other guys were preoccupied with Murphy leaving. 

“You!” He said.

“Me?!” You smacked his arm. He rubbed his legs and took a deep swig of his beer. 

“Wearing that!” He hissed.

“What are you talking about?” Murphy was making his way around the table, saying goodbye individually. Any minute, he would make it to your side. 

“I just want to…rip that damn dress off. You tell me to keep my hands to myself and you come in wearing that,” he said. 

You reared back as if he’d slapped you. Javi had dabbled in harmless flirting since you met him. It was just how he interacted with women. Truly, you didn’t hold it against him. But the way he was acting right now…it was a mistake coming here.

Because of the drinks you had, the atmosphere, the celebratory mood…you suddenly couldn’t remember why you were fighting this man so hard. 

“It’s just a dress, Javi,” you breathed. Your heartbeat sped up in your chest, thumping in your chest painfully. Your hands shook and you rubbed the tips of your fingers together. 

“Like hell…” Javi started. Murphy made his way to the end of the table, shaking Javi’s hand and giving you a hug. 

“See you in the office.”

You smiled at Murphy but you had no way of remembering what you said. Your eyes were on Javi. His eyes were on you. 

“I’ll be back, bathroom,” you said. You scooped up your purse from the table and disappeared down the short hallway towards the bathrooms. The dim lights were actually a blessing.

You didn’t want to think about how you looked at the moment. You didn’t want to see if you looked as needy as you felt. You didn’t want your dirty thoughts projected all over your face for anyone to pick up on. 

You were careful. You were smart. You avoided Peña like the plague and you didn’t need to be here right now. 

A knocking on the door tore you from your spirling thoughts. “A second!” 

The knocking continued obnoxiously and you finally had to approach the door and open it a crack. “I said–” 

Javi pushed into the room, closing and locking the door behind him. “Javi!” 

Javi slammed his lips against yours, groaning once you made contact. You melted instantly, wrapping your hands around his shoulders and molding your body against his. He groaned low in his throat and pulled up your dress. His fingers dragged along your thighs and you sighed.

You were chasing relief. Your skin was feverish. The wet heat of the night did not mix well with the cheap beer you consumed. You felt like you were crawling out of your skin with a red hot need. Need for Javier fucking Peña of all people. 

“Tell me to stop, princesa,” he groaned against your lips.

“Don’t you fuckin’ dare,” you moaned. His thick fingers were working magic on you, dagging along your skin and igniting a fire in your veins. His fingers found your panties and he yanked them down, nearly snapping the flimsy fabric. You kicked them off to the side, not caring where they ended up.  

Your hands worked furiously to unbuckle his belt, unbutton his jeans, and slide that zipper down. Your hands reached in eagerly, palming him, and he groaned. His lips descended on your neck, biting and licking away the gathering sweat.

You shoved his pants down low enough to free that dangerous dick you heard so much about. He was long and thick, easily backing up his claims. You see why he had so much sex. He was practically built for it. Sculpted for it. He was forged by the gods to hand deliver pleasure.

His hands squeezed your hips, slipping down to your ass to grab and pinch and yank closer to his body. He lifted your leg  and placed it over his hip. He rubbed the tip of his dick through your slick folds. He moaned and bit your neck.

“Fuck, princesa. Have you been sitting there wet for me?” His voice was so deep and dark and filthy in this dim bathroom. 

“Whole time,” you said, licking his lips and pulling him by the hair for another kiss. For a taste of those lips soaked in beer and cigarettes and something uniquely spicy and all Javi.

He groaned and finally shoved in roughly. Your head fell back against the wall as you cried out. He was so big and it had been so long and fuck, he felt so good. Why did you deny yourself this? Why would you do that? 

You panted in his ear as he slid out and then shoved back in. He was fucking you. There was nothing sweet about how hard he gripped your thighs, how roughly he fucked into you, or how loudly he groaned against your chest. He licked the top of your breasts, the part exposed from the cleavage of your dress. 

Javi sped up as if he couldn’t help himself. As if he needed to keep going, needed to stake his claim. He lifted your leg higher, spreading you wider, as he continued to pound into your pussy. 

“Oh fuck, Javi,” you moaned.

“Say it again, princesa. Again,” he moaned. 

“Javi, Javi,” you moaned as he pounded into you so fiercely, you were seeing stars as you came. Flooding his dick with your arousal. Filling up the tiny room with shrieks and screams. It was drowned out by the ruckus of the bar. Noise exploded as you assumed it finally turned midnight. 

This was a hell of a way to ring in the new year. 

“Love feelin’ this pussy, princesa,” Javi moaned. He slipped out and you cried out, needing him back inside. He kissed your cheek and smirked. “I wanna see that ass.” 

He flipped you over. He shoved you against the low sink to your right. Your hands gripped the porcelain as he thrust back inside. You bit your lip and moaned lewdly. You didn’t give a fuck who heard. 

Javi smacked your ass once, twice, three times as he continued to rut inside of you. You looked up at the dirty mirror and looked at his gorgeous, focused face as he pounded you into oblivion. 

“Fuck, fuck, right there, Javi,” you moaned. You brought your hand back to dig into his hair. You gripped his fine brown hair and pulled. Javi groaned and licked the shell of your ear, nibbling on it while his hips slapped into yours. 

“Javi, I’m–”

“Shh, shh, let me feel it,” he whispered in your ear. You finally exploded once more, cumming with a sharp vengeance that robbed you of all breath. Javi thrusted two more times before joining you, moaning as he unloaded inside of you. 

His cum stuffed you and he thrusted at least once more time with a groan. He dropped against you, kissing the back of your neck and shoulder. Your legs were noodles. Your thighs shook as you calmed down from such a rough fucking.

Screwing Javi was absolutely everything you imagined and it sucked. It was like tasting paradise knowing you’ll never return. It was cruel and you hung your head thinking about what everyone was going to say.

Something like this? Office fodder. And once they got a hold of it, they were not going to let you live it down. They would give him hi-fives and they would judge the hell out of you. Although with his dick still inside you, you couldn’t bring yourself to care too much.

Javi softened and slipped out of you. You cleaned yourselves up in silence. It was like that wild, crazy and burning need was finally sated. You could think straight for once, see more clearly and breathe easier. 

Javi zipped himself back up and you retrieved your panties, stuffing them into your purse. Javi sidled up to you, pulling your hips until you were too close. 

“You don’t have to do this, Javi,” you said. 

Javi nuzzled your neck and placed a soft kiss there. “Maybe I want to do it,” he said.

“You know this was the first and only time, right?” There was enough light to see him smirk. 

“We just gettin’ started, princesa,” he said with a wink.

The Secret Javier Pena Files - not sure if there will be more, but never say never.

#Megaminds Secret Files #The Secret Javier Pena Files #Javier Pena x Black!reader #Javier Pena x Fem!reader #Javier Pena x Black reader #x Black reader #Javier Pena x Fem reader #Javier Pena narcos #Javier Pena x reader #Javier Pena x you #Narcos fanfic #Narcos fan fic #Narcos fan fiction #Narcos fanfiction #Pickled Pena #Pickled Pena challenge #pickledpena #pickledpena potluck #pickled pena potluck

[xxblairexxss]

Safe person

Pairing : Mason Mount x reader

Theme : Fluff

Word count : i’m not sure ;; (not proofread)

Another random idea I had in mind. I’m not really sure about this, might edit or delete it later but I tried a different setting, using 2nd person POV instead of 3rd person POV. Still learning! Anyway, have a great day ahead, loves!

You never ordered on your own whenever you walked into a restaurant, never corrected a waiter if she got your orders wrong. Not because you were being a bitch and thought that you were above everyone but because you were too scared to do so. It made you anxious. It might sounded stupid for some but your friend, Amanda had gotten used to it and taken over the role ever since you guys became friends when your were 8 years old,

and so was your boyfriend, Mason.

“Mase, can you…order for me? Pleaseee..” You lightly tucked on his sleeve and fiddled on it. It was during the earliest stage of your relationship that Mason picked up on your habit to start fiddling with anything you could grasp on whenever you guys were in line to order.

“Of course, princess. You want the usual?” He took your hand in his, intertwined it with his and left a peck on the back of it.

Ever since then, whenever they walked into a fast food joints, Mason would take your hand so you wouldn’t had a chance to start fiddling with your sleeves or his and you didn’t have to ask him to order for you anymore.

﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎

You never talked about useless topics though you loved to do so. But you were once called “boring” by one of your schoolmate because no one talked about that, we talked about boyfriends, crushes, dates while you wanted to talk about a podcast you listened yesterday or a random cafe vlog you came across on Youtube one night.

But Mason loved it, a lot actually. In fact, your jabber was one of the reasons he fell in love with you. He loved the way you have deep furrows in your brows and how serious you looked when you talked about Stephanie Soo’s latest podcast.

“Can you imagine?! She killed her because she thought it would be fun?! How is killing someone fun? Ugh, she’s so evil.” He copied your frown and nodded along. “Right, baby, she’s so evil. I agree.” You were so mad but your anger level went down when you turned your head and saw how cute Mason was, copying your actions. “Mase, I’m being serious. She didn’t deserve to die!” He then chuckled and cupped your cheek as you leaned into his touch. “I know, baby. No one deserves to die. She got caught and justice was served, wasn’t it?”

﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎

Mason was away for Three Lions’ friendly match and you were on your way home when you walked past Five Guys and the smell of the bacon cheeseburger made your stomach grumbled.

It took you a minute to decide to just fuck it and ordered it yourself if it meant you could eat a hamburger whilst catching up to the latest Black Mirror’s episode, which sounded like the best plan to wind down your night but of course, you couldn’t get rid of your habit to fiddle with your sleeves when you made your order, and in this case, your coat’s sleeve.

“Mase, guess what?” You grinned with full of pride, as you had a flashback of what you did today and of course, you had to tell Mason during the late night video call. “What is it, baby? Did you spend 10 minutes petting another stray cat on your way home again?” You shaked your head, not because you were denying it as you did actually spent 10 minutes petting stray cats, there were two cats actually and they were in the same color but that wasn’t the correct answer to your question. “I ordered Five Guys on my own!” He widened his eyes is amusement and brought the phone closer to his face. “Really? Did Amanda accompany you?” “No, I was all alone! I know… it sounds silly because it’s the simplest thing ever and I shouldn’t feel proud because..” You started mumbling, your voices getting slower and slower as you started over-analysing your feelings and realised that you might ended up making a fool of your in front of him.

“Baby, hey, listen. It’s not silly. I’m proud and happy with what you did today, really. Though it makes me kinda sad because you might not need my help after this and you won’t play with my hoodie sleeves anymore.”

“No, silly. I still need you.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, because you are my safe person.”

#mason mount #mason mount blurb #mason mount imagine #mason mount imagines #football imagine #football imagines #football fics #mason mount fics #mason mount fic

[peachybun-bun]

Wound Up

the graphic above was edited by @chogiwapadada

do not remove the watermark and do not repost

pairing; joshua hong x f reader

genre; smut (minors dni), enemies to lovers, co-workers with no power dynamic

notes/warnings; unprotected sex, lots of teasing and pet names, lots of bickering, spitting in the face (not during sex), spitting on the pussy, impact play, oral (f receiving), fingering, creampie, joshua is big enough or strong enough to carry the reader, talk of consent and consent given (this was important to me with the genre), aftercare

word count; 3.8k and some change

a/n; there was quite a bit of care put into this fic given the dynamic of enemies to lovers. i hope you enjoy it.

You can almost feel the pretentious smirk on his face as he stands next to your desk. You didn’t need to look up to know who it was as he sighed and rested one hand on his hip before he leaned to rest the other on your desk. “I’m busy Joshua.” You sigh out the words making the overly attractive man laugh as he gives you a good look over. You were cute in your tight pencil skirt, black heels, a different colored button up each day. Today you had opted for a lavender and it looked so nice with your skin tone.

“That’s why I’m here Y/N. I’m here to help. The boss thinks you took on too much when you took on this project. Say hello to your new partner.” You drop your pen looking up from your draft to scoff at Joshua Hong as he keeps leaning on your desk far too close to your face for your comfort. His cologne invades your senses causing you to furrow your brows when you can’t help but think how good he smells. “I don’t want a partner. I can handle it just fine on my own. You can tell him that you changed your mind.”

Joshua laughs at the level of spite in your voice as he practically watches smoke come out of your ears as your fingers grip the pen in your grasp. “I told him you wouldn’t want one and he insisted. So, I’m afraid it’s late nights and cold pizza for us for the next few weeks Princess.” You scoff at his gall when he calls you the name before you groan and push your office chair away from your desk only to stand and storm away from the man.

“Y/N…” You can hear the mirth in his voice which only fuels your anger more as you make your way into the supply room. You try to slam the door in front of his face but his foot is faster catching the door causing you to gasp when he pushes the door open and makes you stumble backwards towards the shelves holding printer paper, staples, and pens.

Closing the door, Joshua raises a brow at you and turns to look at you raising his hands in question. “Are you this much of a child? You can’t stand to work with me for a few weeks? You have to storm away and have a temper tantrum in a closet like a little brat?” You scoff at him as scolds you like he has any room to talk. “You’ve done worse and I was coming in here to get a breath and also…I needed…”

Joshua watches your brain turning as you glance around the room before reaching for a pack of paperclips. “You needed paperclips? I know for a fact you have a box on your desk. You are lying to me. It’s cute how fucking flustered you get around me.” You take a breath as Joshua moves closer to you crowding you against the shelves as he looks down at you. With your eyes narrowing you don’t think before you spit in his face making him laugh as he closes his eyes when you mutter out a “Fuck you, Hong.”

Nodding he wipes your spit from his face and puts his hand on the other side of your body as you stand completely still in front of him. “I promise I will return that favor one day. Now be a good girl and take your paper clips back out to your desk. I’ll be there in a few minutes and we can work like adults.” You roll your eyes at him and shoulder check him hard as you push past him only to hear him laugh again when you leave him alone in the closet.

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

Two weeks into the project you had endured too many late nights with Joshua Hong. You refused to admit how many lingering glances had been shared between the two of you. Now you were sitting at your desk which was even closer to his as he groaned over his keyboard about being bored at 8 pm. “Shut the fuck up Joshua. You are the one who said you wanted to finish the section of the article before we went home. I was happy to leave at 5. Unlike you I have a life.”

Joshua shoots you a look with a raised brow as he swivels his chair around and rests his elbow on the desk. The pen in his fingers twirls once, then twice, before he bites at the cap in thought. “Is that so? What is it that you do for fun outside of the office Y/N? Think about what color button up you will wear the next day?”

The pen flies out of your hand towards Joshua before you even consider what you are doing causing the man to laugh as he dodges it nearly hitting him in the face. “So fucking spiteful. Did I hit a nerve? You haven’t had dinner. Come on.” You look up at him as he moves to stand shoving his hands into his tan dress pants before gesturing with his head. “What?”

“I just told you, it's time for some food. You are all wound up, you are going to pop a vessel or break a nail. We are done for the night.” Scoffing you move to stand pushing past Joshua making him laugh again. “I really fucking hate you. Why don’t you just tell me that you want me to quit Joshua? You make my life a living hell.” His laugh falls short as his brows furrow when he follows you towards the door when you go to grab your purse.

“I’m not trying to make you quit Y/N. Don’t be such a wimp.” His hand grabs your purse before you can along with your jacket making you stomp your foot when he offers to help you put on your jacket. Not willing to fight him you slide your arms into the jacket and swipe your purse from him angrily as he meets your eyes.

“You either want to kill me or fuck me. I think I know which one it really is.” You scoff in his face as he smirks at you before you are out of his grasp and out the door with him following close behind. “Goodnight Joshua!” His laugh travels too close to you as you realize he is following you. “You don’t live this way.”

“Correct, but you do, and there is a great little sandwich place on the way to your house. We can pick up some take out and take it back to your apartment.” Stopping in your tracks you turn to look at Joshua almost challenging him as he has to stop short before running into you. “You are just inviting yourself into my home?”

The smirk on his face makes you want to slap him but the look in his eyes that matches your challenge makes you want to see what will happen next. “I’ll even buy you dinner, look at me….a goddamn gentleman.” Rolling your eyes at his words you turn without an answer shoving your hands into your pockets as you start walking again assuming he is following behind you.

You weren’t sure what the sandwich was that you ordered, just that it was the most expensive thing on the menu. Joshua scoffed at you and raised a brow when you walked away making him keep to his word when it came to buying dinner. Taking out his card he couldn’t help but smirk as he glanced over to you as you crossed your arms waiting impatiently for him and the food.

“Lead the way Princess.” You glance up at Joshua with a scowl at the nickname before looking at the bag of food in his hand. You hoped it put some dent in his bank account, not that it mattered. How much damage could a $20 sandwich really cause? The point was it made you feel better.

Joshua laughs when once again you don’t speak to him, instead you just start walking towards your apartment. Your hand reaches into your bag as you climb a few steps and open a door holding it with your foot only to let it close on his shoulder when you don’t wait long enough for him to get fully inside. “So hospitable.”

“Oh I’m sorry my gentle little Prince. Did you get a boo boo? Need mommy to kiss it and make it better?” You turn to walk backwards with a smirk as Joshua’s face actually shows some surprises at your gall. “Mommy huh?” You raise a brow in challenge before turning away from him at his words when you reach your apartment door pushing it open letting him figure it out as you make your way in.

Joshua manages to push the door open and even takes off his shoes, placing them neatly by the door before following you towards the kitchen before finding you standing in front of an open fridge as you take out two beers. Your eyes meet him briefly as he smirks, taking out the sandwiches sliding your overpriced concoction towards you as he trades it for the beer. “Enjoy the truffles.”

You hum out a response as you sit on a stool at the island making sure you pick the one the farest away from Joshua. The man to your left laughs as he slides his sandwich and drink down before moving closer to you making you groan. “In my own fucking house?” You turn your head to meet his eyes as he takes a bite of his sandwich, challenging you once again.

“Fine…” You speak the word through gritted teeth before picking up your own sandwich finding it awkward just based on its size. “Can’t handle large things?” You glance at Joshua when he speaks before narrowing your eyes when you take a harsh bite of the sandwich making him suck in a breath. “I don’t think the sandwich is going to bite back, baby girl.”

You make a face not only to the taste of the sandwich but also the fact that Joshua calls you yet another pet name. Sitting the sandwich down you swivel your stool towards him before picking up your beer, taking a long sip from the glass bottle before letting your tongue rest at the rim as his eyes watch you amused.

Joshua smirks before wiping his lips, putting his own sandwich to the side as he tilts his head. “You look like you want to say something Y/N. Do you want to talk about why you are so frustrated with me? Why are you so tightly wound up?” Your eyes narrow slightly as Joshua turns towards you, his hand daring to move towards you, running his fingertips along your arm.

“I don’t want to say anything to you, but you can leave at any time, Hong.” Joshua laughs and bites at his lip when you bite at him with words once again. “That’s so cute…if you want me to leave tell me to. I’ll leave, I’m not going to do anything you don’t want me to do. However, until that moment, why don’t I tell you what I know to be true.”

You scoff and roll your eyes trying to cross your legs but Joshua kicks out his leg putting his knee between yours stopping you. Furrowing your brows you glance down only to feel his fingers on your chin tilting your head back up. “You are so wound up because you are horny. You are frustrated with me because you want to fuck me just as much as I want to fuck you. I’ve been dreaming of fucking the attitude out of you since I laid eyes on you.”

With your legs pushing against his, Joshua glances down at your thighs and tsks at you. “You are so sure about yourself Joshua. You think you are God’s gift to the world, that just because you are attractive every woman has to throw themselves at you. I won’t do that.” Joshua’s eyes meet yours once again and he tilts his head as his thumb ghosts over your bottom lip making your mouth part for him.

“And it drives me crazy. I want to turn you over my desk every single day and push this skirt up to your hips and fuck you until you only know my name. I don’t want the others.” You smirk at Joshua before letting out a small laugh and you nip at his thumb when he dares to push it into your mouth making him hiss out a curse.

“Another boo boo for mommy to kiss?” Your words are patronizing as you use a voice you would use to talk to a baby making Joshua growl under his breath. “Where is the bedroom or would you prefer I fuck you on the kitchen island?” You smirk as he leans in to ghost his lips over yours, his grip on your face tighter as you consider your choice. “Down the hall to the right.”

Joshua is off the stool and you are over his shoulder before you can think. A gasp falling from your lips as his hand runs over your ass. “I can fucking walk!” The man laughs before his hand comes down over your clothed ass making you let out a small yelp. “And daddy can carry you, Princess. You are going to need your strength.”

Your back meets your bed with a thud making you lose your breath when your body bounces a couple times. Joshua glances around your room quickly before looking down at you with dark lustful eyes. His hands sliding along your knees up to your thighs as he pushes your skirt up, “Tell me if you want this?” You pause and feel the ache in your core as his hands reach your hips making you nod. “I want it, fuck.”

Joshua’s hands move to grip your panties under your skirt before jerking them down your legs making you gasp out a moan at the sudden movement. His eyes follow the lace before he lets his gaze move back up between your legs to your pussy. “Oh baby girl…you are dripping.” You groan in embarrassment at his words but watch as he tugs on his tie undoing it quickly before discarding it with a toss of his hand.

His eyes lock with yours as he makes quick work of his shirt making you bite at your lips when you see his torso for the first time. “Like what you see?” You shake your head no and Joshua laughs before you feel a sharp slap to your inner thigh. “Fucking liar.” He watches you arch off the bed with a lewd moan before your hips roll towards him. “Let’s make a deal, we both stop lying to each other and we both get what we want out of this relationship.”

You moan out a “Whatever…’ only to feel another sharp slap when Joshua moves to crawl towards you up the bed. “Don’t act like a child and I won’t treat you like one.” You look down at him as he stares up at you, level with your core, his hot breath hitting your wet folds as he scolds you. “Fine! Ok! You look good. Fuck.”

The sound of your moans when his mouth is on your pussy is like music to Joshua’s ears. You sound like everything he could have dreamed and more as your hips roll to meet each harsh movement of his tongue and lips. He only pulls back and looks up at you making sure you are looking at him when he speaks. “Do you remember spitting in my face?”

You scoff and roll your hips towards him not thinking this was exactly the time to be talking about a fight from a few weeks ago, but a bite to your inner thigh brings your attention back to him as you squeal out a yes. “I bet you do, and do you remember my promise to return the favor?” You nod and watch as he spits over your folds before slapping his fingers harshly over your clit making you scream out his name into a moan when your orgasm hits you like a freight train.

“Now that's what I want to hear. Cum for me.” You whine at Joshua’s words when two of his fingers slide into your walls as you are already clenching into your orgasm only making you buck down harder towards him. “Please!” Joshua’s brows shoot up at your beg as his thumb circles your clit when he pushes you towards a place of overstimulation.

“Are you going to beg for me? Oh Princess…I never thought I’d hear that.” You curse your lack of resolve as he smirks at you when he moves around to the side of the bed. His hands move to help you remove the rest of your clothes. Your hands move to his belt and Joshua tsks before taking a step back letting you work. “Another thing I’d never thought I’d see. Your hands on my pants. I like it.”

“You are so cocky. It’s making me lose my sex drive Joshua.” He laughs at your words before grabbing your face making you look at him once you have pushed his pants and briefs down til he can step out of them. Your hand wrapped around his rather impressive cock. “We promised not to lie to one another. You say you are losing your sex drive and here you are, your hand pumping my cock.”

You scowl at him pulling your face from him before taking your hand away as he raises a brow at your defiance. “Do you want me to leave? I can leave you right now or I can fuck you so hard we forget what we were even fighting about.” Groaning as you feel how your pussy throbs at his words you reach for his hand making him laugh as he crawls over the bed only to pause. “You want me to use a condom?”

Shaking your head no, Joshua smirks and nods before leaning in to kiss you harshly as he drags your hands up over your head pinning them there. You can’t help but to moan into the kiss as your fingernails dig into his hand as he shifts to using one hand to pin them both. His free hand moving to grab his cock as he drags his head through your folds slowly.

“Shua…put it in!” He laughs against your lips at your words as he teases you when you lift your hips and put your leg over his hip trying to gain any upper hand in this situation. “So bossy.” You start to speak when he lines himself up with your entrance and finally pushes into you with one long slow thrust before bottoming out. You gasp a breath and hold his hand tightly, your eyes shut tight as he stays still for a moment letting you adjust.

The stretch quickly becomes pleasure and you roll your hips up making him groan on your lips before he leans back to look down at you with a smirk on his face. “Needy too.” You whine out a “shut up” making him laugh before his lips are on your neck leaving small kisses before he lets go of your hands in place of his hand moving to grab at your breast when his mouth sucks and bites at your collarbone leaving deep red marks.

“Oh…fuck…” You whimper the words as his hips slap against yours. Your head pressed back against the pillows as your fingernails rake along Joshua’s back making him hiss into a loud groan against your shoulder as he leaves another dark mark. “I’m gonna cum.” He nods in agreement as his thrusts start to become messy and quicker. “Where do you want it?”

You consider it for a moment and hold your foot tighter on his ass making him grunt as he furrows his brows and smirks when he meets your eyes. “Inside?” You nod before gasping for your breath as you lose yourself to your orgasm closing your eyes. Joshua watches your face in awe at the fucked out look that washes over you. The look of bliss that radiates from you on to him as he feels the coil that was building inside of him finally give way.

His mouth connects with yours as he mutters against your lips when he fills you with his cum. You whine to how full you feel and how your body is so tense but as he starts to slow his thrusts and you relax you feel like you are floating on water. “So fucking good.” Joshua’s voice is low and almost trembles as he pulls back to pull out of you.

He can’t help himself as he moves to pull your legs apart to watch as the mixture of cum starts to drip from you. “Oh baby, that is so pretty. I almost wanna fuck it back into you.” You groan and kick at his leg making him laugh as he moves to lay down beside you for a moment before sitting up. “That door leads to the bathroom?” You don’t even look as you figure he is looking at the only other door in the room. “You are a fucking genius Joshua.” He rolls his eyes at you before sliding off the bed and going into the other room where you can hear the sink turn on.

Turning on your side you watch the mirror and Joshua as he gets cleaned up. You can’t help but to narrow your eyes in thought at what had just happened and what it might mean. You didn’t know what you wanted it to mean. Joshua glances into the mirror meeting your eyes before smirking and wetting a washcloth before moving back into the bedroom raising a brow.

“What?” You eye him and the washcloth as he sits down and starts running it over your face and chest. “I’m getting you cleaned up.” You scoff and furrow your brows as he runs the washcloth between your legs with a shrug before looking at you with a raised brow. “I’m not a complete asshole Princess.”

“You could have fooled me.” Joshua laughs at your words as you smack his hand from between your legs and you slide off the bed moving towards the bathroom with the washcloth in hand. “You want me to leave?” You leave the door cracked as you take care of cleaning yourself up considering his words. A smile on your lips as you put some fake annoyance in your answer. “It’s already so fucking late, you might as well stay.”

Joshua smiles at your words and lays back on your bed putting his arm behind his head as he looks up at the ceiling sharing many of the same thoughts you had. He wasn’t sure what all this meant and he wasn’t sure he wanted the bickering to stop because you were sexy when you were all wound up.

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

tag list; @m1ss-foodi3, @chaebb, @astroodledream, @shingisimp, @suxihyl, @bmnmin23, @kenmaslutty, @destinyg237, @laylasbunbunny​, @honglynights​, @yeritheloml​, @junhui-recs​

© peachybun-bun - all rights reserved. Reposting/modifying of any fic, or pieces of original writings posted on this blog is not allowed. Translations not allowed.  

#joshua hong smut #seventeen smut #thesvttown #ficscafe #caratwritersclub #joshua smut #svt smut #hong jisoo smut #joshua hong x reader #seventeen x reader #svt x reader #joshua hong #joshua #seventeen #svt #seventeen fanfic

[smallraindrops-blog]

Falling Sand

Word count: 1k

Morpheus x GN!reader (light, pre-relationship)

Fandom: the sandman

Summary: reader haven’t slept in a while.

Warnings: no beta, some possible spoilers, non-canon 

Notes: some people collect stamps, k-pop stars or lovecraftian horrors. I collect gods of sleep appearly. Still watching the show but this idea wouldn’t leave me alone. 

Enjoy!

Now with Part Two!

~

You haven’t slept in days when he found you. 

At first you weren’t sure what you were looking at. It was a man but the way he carried himself, the icy stare he gave you as you slowly rose from your overflowing desk. You could actually feel the bags under your eyes. 

Sleep was but a dream. One you gave up freely.  And this beautiful man, whoever he might be, was no man. When you were a child you saw the painting by Alexandre Cabanel, of the fallen angel. And Michaelanglo’s David. Their perfect beauty was flawed and ugly compared to the being in front of you. 

“I’ve been looking for you. you were surprisingly hard to find.” He said, his voice low. You chuckled, amused for a reason not even you understood.

“Oh?” You waved toward your kitchen, toward the nectar that awaited you in the coffeemaker. “Well, come along.” You didn’t bother to check to see if he followed you.

You weren’t convinced that you weren’t imagining him anyway.

You luckily found some clean mugs in the dishwasher and promptly got to work for your caffeine fix. Your guest glanced around the messy kitchen then to a very messy kitchen table. His mouth- his entirely too pink, entirely too distracting mouth- was pursed in disapproval. 

You tore your eyes away from his beauty, blinked heavily as you watched the coffee maker. You might be sleeping at your desk, he was simply too lovely to be real.

“Well, do you want to tell me why you are here, darling?” You asked then grimaced when you realized you used a pet name. You sounded just like your mother or that old landlady. 

“You haven’t been sleeping.” He said as the smell of coffee filled the space. You waited for him to say more but he didn’t.

You sighed, realizing he wasn’t going to be easy to talk to. Nor did you know his name.

“Darl- no, please tell me you got a name.” You said, pouring the steaming hot coffee into the mugs. One of them had a chip in the rim so you kept that one for yourself. You did have some manners after all. 

Finally, he spoke that rich voice of his. “Morpheus. Some call me Dream.”

“Well, you are pretty enough to be a dream.” The words slipped out but you shook your head, already trying to take them back. “Sorry. Forget I said that. Haven’t been sleeping.”  

“Yes, I know. That is why I am here.” 

You eyed the sugar, and only added a little bit but went heavy for the cream. Something about Morpheus told you he was a cream man. 

You placed the mug in front of him and took a deep sip of your own drink with a happy sigh. 

Then you made yourself look at Morpheus. He really was beautiful, like a greek god come to life and you wished you could paint with oil because anything else would be an insult. 

To his credit, he took the drink but didn’t take a sip. Oh well more for you later. You told yourself very firmly you didn’t notice how slender and graceful his hands looked around the mug.  

“You know that doesn’t tell me anything. Why should you care about some rando’s sleep schedule?” you asked, rubbing a thumb along the mug’s rim.

“Anyone else would be dead by now. You don’t even have the sickness, you are choosing to do this.” Morpheus said in a perplexed tone. His mouth almost in a pout and you resisted the urge to reach over and press a thumb on that tempting mouth of his. 

You blinked, taking in his words. Then you gave him a easy shrug, “I need to understand exactly what my patients are going through. Otherwise what use am I?”

“Not going to be much use when sleep deprived or dead.” Morpheus repiled tartly. He sounded just like a frustrated partner or parent. 

You laughed, taking another sip before sitting down in the chair. For some reason, your whole body felt heavy. Like something warm and soft was dragging you down. For a moment, you thought of lovers tangled together in sleep warm blankets and moonlight. 

“I do plan to sleep at some point but…” you frowned, realizing you lost your train of thoughts. They slipped away from you, like sand between fingers. “I…” 

A hand landed on yours, warmed by the coffee and untangled your fingers from the mug’s handle. You made a protesting sound but words failed you. You tried to pull away but your whole body was slumping, giving into the weight. 

Morpheus shushed you, wrapping an arm around your waist. “Come along now.” His voice had changed. The timber of it was still rich but now it was lulling. Hypnotic.

“You need to sleep. You are doing good work, it would be a shame if something happens to that mind of yours.”  Morpheus said, guiding you to your bedroom. You shook your head, and slurred out.“Jerk.” 

Morpheus actually chuckled, deep and quiet and you liked that sound way too much. 

You don’t remember falling into your bed. What you did remember was how Morpheus actually pulled up the blanket around your chin, of slim fingers running once though your hair. Your eyes closed but you weren’t sleeping yet. Rather you existed for a moment between the waking world and dream world. Painfully aware of your mind even as you lose hold of your body.

“Sleep, mortal. Your duties await you.” Morpheus said gently. You tried to resist for a little bit longer.

“Will I get to see you again?” You slurred out. You thought you sounded like a child. You wondered if Morpheus would agree. It hasn't been a full hour since you met this being but you already wanted to know his thoughts on this, on everything, on you. 

“Sleep.” He ordered, his rich voice still gentle.

And with a quiet sigh, you gave in, letting the weight pull you under like quicksand.  You thought you felt fingertips against your forehead but you were already too far gone. 

You slept. 

#The sandman #netflix the sandman #morpheus #morpheus x y/n #morpheus x reader

[petersbaby]

HAHAHA I wrote this when I was half asleep PLEASE don’t make fun of it I will scream

Please - sub!billy x reader

Warnings: this is fucking crazy. I don’t know where this came from, but the idea of him being tied to a bed wouldn’t leave my thoughts. Good god. Uh, bondage/restraints, pain play, mommy kink (heavy usage), masochism maybe but not that bad, burning, smut (sex), cum talk (I love talking about cum), honestly it’s pure filth. PURE FILTH

A/N: let me know if this needs any more warnings I’m super tired and might’ve looked over something

-

“I love you like this. I wish the whole town could see this, that you’re not all big and bad. You’re just a pretty little boy who begs for what he wants.”

You look at his body intently, devouring it with your eyes, walking around the bed. Billy was restrained by all four limbs, wrists cuffed to the headboard and ankles tied tightly to the bedposts at the bottom. He doesn’t respond to your attempts to get a reaction out of him, he doesn’t deny it because it’s true.

“Hmm. Don’t wanna talk?”

He shakes his head ‘no’ quickly. He’s somehow already sweating, curls sticking to his face and neck, getting frizzy from the heat he emanated.

“I guess I’ll have to leave you alone, then…” you glance down at the ground, implying you’re going to turn around and abandon him, helpless.

“No, don’t. Please.” He whines, and you come back to his side.

“I know what you want, but you’re gonna have to be good to get it. Okay?”

“Yes ma’am.”

Fire shoots straight down to your core, setting it alight and it spreads rapidly. You almost lose your composure, having to mask how horny that made you, but you keep it together.

“Good boy.” You gently run your fingers across his forehead, pushing back the stray pieces of hair that were stuck to it.

You climb onto the bed, on top of the nude boy, still in all your clothes besides your shorts, which were already gone. Reaching to the side, you grab Billy’s pack of cigarettes and take one into your mouth. You light it, taking in a deep inhale and exhaling the smoke loudly.

“Hold this, baby.” You place it between his fingers, and he holds it, though he’s restrained.

You lean over, starting to do exactly what you wanted to do. You place the very first kiss onto his jawbone, near his earlobe. You’re horribly slow with the amount of progress you make, the ultimate goal to reach his cock.

You didn’t care, you knew he could wait, and you took lots of careful time licking and sucking on the salty, sensitive skin of his neck. Marks form all the way down the side of it, and he groans each time you bite down hard. The sound of his desperation was music to your ears, so you kept on going. You suck on the skin covering his collarbone, working all the way across it to the end.

“Everyone that looks at you is going to know you’re mine, that I own you.” You comment, pulling away and sitting up to admire the work you did with the bites and hickeys. They were already turning a dark purple color, and they were beautiful. You smell smoke and remember the cigarette you had lit, reaching over to take it from his fingers and taking a hit.

“Words, Billy. Hello?” You add.

“Yes- yeah, yeah. You own me, mhm. Can I hit that, please?” His eyes are fixated on the cigarette that sat between your lips.

“Yes, pet, here.”

You place it in his mouth and let him take a hit of it, pulling it away when he took the smoke in. He breathes out through his nose.

“Thank you.” He says softly.

“So polite, I love your manners. Sweet baby.”

You sit and just smoke, taking your leisurely time. You notice in his face that he’s staring at it, and at the cherry red burning end. He didn’t want to say it, but you weren’t a mind-reader, so you assumed he wanted more and brought it to his lips again. He just shakes his head.

“No? What is it, has your color changed?”

“No, no, it’s green.” He rushes out the words to assure you, “just… would you put that out… uh, fuck.” He gets frazzled trying to put it into words. You listen patiently, waiting.

“On me. Please. Burn me.” He finishes quickly.

“Yeah? You sure?”

“Mhm.”

You knew he had kind of a thing for pain, but were hesitant about this. You didn’t want to hurt him, you really didn’t, but he asked you to. Of all the cigarettes you’ve smoked together- it was a habit you shared- he’s never said anything like that.

You hesitate for a moment, but figure he’s done it before to know he wants it. You take one last hit of the cigarette before pressing the tip of it down onto his chest, on his upper pec.

“Ah- shit,” he groans, squeezing his eyes shut. “Fuck.” He breathes.

You discard the cigarette in the ashtray on the bedside table, coming back to look down at the damage, a perfect white circle with a bit of ash speckled around it. You blow the ash away, and place a kiss on top of the burn.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” You reply mindlessly, not noticing the desperation in his face as he stares up at you.

He starts to shift a bit, enough that you can feel it.

“I need-“

“You need to wait.” You interrupt him, shutting him down.

You place kisses all across his torso, starting at his chest and making your way down to his abdomen. You feel his tight muscles constrict even tighter when you kiss over them, his sensitive body tensing up each time.

He’s still shifting, whining quietly every now and then, trying to be good and not buck his hips. You work your way down to his happy trail, a line of blonde hair starting at the bottom of his belly button. Continuing, you get right to where the bush of pubic hair starts to form, and stop there. He starts to whine louder, close to tears.

“Please.”

“Be patient, I’ve still got all my clothes on. That’s not very fair, is it?” You ask, tilting your head as you do.

“N-no.” He shakes his head.

You reach for the bottom hem of your shirt, pulling it up and over your head, discarding it somewhere in the floor. His big, dumb eyes fall down to your chest. You make quick work of getting your bra off too, letting it fall away.

You feel him continue to stare at you, getting up off the bed to remove your panties. Now that you’re off of his lap, you can see how miserable he is. His cock is a darker shade of red, hard as a rock, leaking desperately from the tip and twitching on its own.

“Poor thing. Can’t do anything about that without your hands, huh? Do you need help?”

He nods, swallowing hard. When you finally get back on top of him, your warm, wet pussy makes direct contact with his erection.

“Ahh, oh god, oh my god.” He moans, and you start to rock a bit, grinding on his dick without letting it actually get in. Your slick covers it, the entire shaft, when you spread your pussy lips around it and continue the bringing motion.

The motion stimulated your clit wonderfully, you felt like you could just do this forever. Maybe you didn’t need penetration, this contact was something so good that you could cum from it already. He watches the place where your cunt is rutting against his boner, and can’t take any more.

“Put it in, please, I want to fuck you so bad. What do you want me to do? I’ll do it, I’ll do anything. Just please fucking put it in.”

You come to realize that tears are actively falling from the corners of his eyes. You decide to give in, in that moment, but wanted to push him just a little more, just for your sick enjoyment.

“Hmm. Okay, well, do you know my name?” You ask.

You see some cogs turning in his little head, trying to find the answer.

“Aww, so horny you can’t even remember my name.” You reach to caress his cheek, skin hot.

“It’s mommy.” You bend down to whisper in his ear.

“Please, mommy, please. Mommy, mommy, mommy. I need you, mommy, please,” he starts to ramble, and you give a satisfied smile.

You line it up and sink down onto him with no warning, and he cries out loud. Almost like a sob, it filled the air in the room. You sat all the way down on his cock and stayed that way for a moment, getting used to it. Soon, you start to move, riding his cock slowly.

“Oh, my god, mommy, thank you, fuck, it’s sososososo good-“ he rambles again, saying words just to say them. He can’t be quiet, moans loud and resonating, babbling incoherently, crying and mewling.

“Stop crying, I’ve got you, baby.”

You lean back down to kiss the tears off of his face.

“Okay, okay, I’ll try.”

“I’m taking care of you. Aren’t I taking good care of you, hmm?”

“Yes, mommy’s taking such good care of me.”

“There you go, good boy.”

You increase your speed, now bouncing up and down on his cock. He watched your tits bounce with each movement, enamored. He wishes so bad that he could touch them, that he could touch any of you. Literally anything, he just wanted to feel your skin beneath his fingers.

You start to let out moans that mix harmoniously with his, riding him at just the right speed for you. The sight below you was the hottest thing you’ve ever seen, your boy sweaty with wide eyes and blown out pupils, mouth hanging open and panting like a dog.

All the while covered in bruises and bite marks that you made.

For the first time tonight, you leaned down and kissed him. You finally let him kiss you, and he was over the moon. The feeling was electric, his lips on yours, and you try your best to actually kiss but end up just moaning into each other’s mouths. Having to pull away, you ride him like your life depended on it, and it felt like it did.

“Mmh, god, I’m so close.” You try to say but the words are all slurred together, and you keep your perfect pace until you’re clamping down on his cock and orgasming hard, letting it wash over your entire body and take over your senses.

You keep on riding, using him, his dick hitting your g-spot over and over again. It was almost too much, overkill, but not enough to stop. You couldn’t stop, so you didn’t. You continued bouncing your ass up and down on his cock, relishing in the feeling you get when he’s filling you up.

You hardly noticed the words being spoken. When you tune back in, it’s him just begging and begging you to give him permission.

“M-mommy I can’t, please.” He whines, unable to keep it in.

“Oh, go ahead, pretty boy. Fill me up, keep going til nothing’s left.”

You didn’t have to tell him twice, and you feel him twitch inside of you before spilling. You start to slow down your pace, still continuing your movements until he started to shake and then you got off.

You immediately start spilling all over the bed below you, his hot cum leaking out. You’ll wash the sheets, just not now. You were just taking in the moment, silently appreciating it.

“Shit.” You remark, trying to get yourself together. Once you have, at least a little bit, you quickly tug on your panties and throw one of his big t-shirts on. You go to the foot of the bed first to untie his ankles, knowing that the knots you did were tight and possibly cutting off circulation.

He let out a sigh of relief at his freedom, then you grabbed a tiny key from the bedside table drawer. You move quickly to unlock the cuffs, one at a time until he’s soon completely unrestrained.

“Are you okay? What do you need?” You check in. You were tired, but not too tired to make sure he’s taken care of.

“I’m okay. Pants, please, and water.”

“Okay.”

You go to retrieve a pair of sweatpants and toss them over, then head to the kitchen and grab him a cold bottle of water. When you come back, he has a cigarette lit and is smoking it happily. You hand him the water and sit down next to where he lay.

You watch as he sort of returns to his normal self, and you wonder if he’s as exhausted as he is.

“What about you?”

“Hm?”

“Are you okay?”

You smile. “Yes.” And you snatch the cigarette out of his hand, stealing it.

It makes you look down at his chest, and you wonder out loud, “does that really turn you on?” as you trace the skin around the burn with you fingertips delicately.

“I dunno,” he shrugs, “just feels good.”

“Well that’s something we’ll not do very often, sometimes, if you want, but not often. Can’t have scars all over this perfect body.” You compliment as your fingers wander and caress his bare torso.

He blushes, only slightly, smiling. “Stop it.”

“What? It is. I know it and you know it too.”

“That’s all you. You’re perfect.”

#billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove x female reader #billy hargove smut #billy hargrove x you #billy hargrove fic #billy hargrove #billy hargove imagine #billy hargrove fanfiction #stranger things smut #billy hargrove x y/n

[teeth-n-ambitions]

Intake

Hi everybody! Here's the first part of my Yours rewrite. I'm so, so excited to share it with y'all. I'm taking a bit of a different approach this time around, but I'm certain it's a big improvement! Let me know what you think, and if you have any ideas for a name for this series.

@deluxewhump @whumpyourdamnpears

TW: kidnapping, blood, violence, vampire whump, lady whump, pet whump

Lila’s chest heaved as she struggled to steady her ragged breaths. She had herself braced against a tree, rough bark biting into her hands. Her pulse thrummed in her ears, making it all the more difficult to listen for approaching footsteps.

 The dark of the night allowed only small slivers of moonlight to peak through the wood’s canopy. Enough to barely catch the outline of the trees, but nothing further. All she could make out of the…the thing were the whites of its eyes. It wasn’t until it slammed into the window of her car that she could see its silhouette. But even then, she was so focused on fleeing that she hardly got a good look.

It’d ripped off the passenger door with ungodly strength and reached in to grab her, but she’d fumbled out of her seat and opened her door just fast enough to get her feet on the ground and run with all her might. She didn’t even know if the thing was chasing her. But if there was one thing life ever taught her, it was don’t wait to find out.

Against the tree, Lila shut her eyes and drew in a long breath, listening intently for any sign of another presence. A twig snapping, leaves crunching, owls, crickets, something, anything. It was only September—there should have still been plenty of soft sounds of nature to ease her heart. Yet the wood had nothing to say. Its silence was…haunting, unnatural. Lila wasn’t sure if she’d ever heard literally nothing before. At least, not like this.

She reached a hand into the pocket of her jeans and pulled out her phone, clicked it on. She’d spent nearly an hour trying to get a connection when her engine died earlier, yes, but she naively hoped she’d succeed now. She cursed. No such luck. Figures.

She tapped the phone’s flashlight, only to have something cool seize her wrist and wrench the device out of her grip. Her body whirled around before she crashed back into the tree and a violent force pinned both wrists above her. Another hand—that’s definitely what it was—shoved her head to the side and held it in place. Blistering pain shot through her neck before she even registered being punctured. She may have cried out, but her senses rapidly numbed, brain turning to muffled static. So she wouldn’t know. A faint scent of metal was all she could pinpoint before slipping into the void.

Her hand twitched when Lila finally regained consciousness, the scrape of brick beneath her nails sending a unpleasant shudder down her stiff back. The other hand had fallen numb, along with the rest of the arm her head laid on. She had to roll onto her back and massage it back to life before she could push herself up. Pain ebbed and flowed in her temple and her limbs cracked as she stood.

Solid darkness clung to the wall, leaving Lila to map things out through touch alone. It was a cylinder around her, the grooves between each rounded brick the only imperfection in an otherwise completely smooth wall. She couldn’t even find the outline of a door. There wasn’t much room, either; her body just about spanned the full diameter of the place. She was only 5’2”. There wasn’t any sort of breeze or draft, no discernable smells, and no sound other than that of her own movement. Where the hell was she?

Lila took a moment to sift through her memory. Tuesday was the funeral, the repast wrapped up around three, and she finally got back on the road just after five. Stopped for food at seven, finished at eight-thirty, drove until she hit that stretch of the interstate and the engine died…

She reached to rub at her neck, finding it sore on one side. Her fingers felt around the area until they found the epicenter. The skin was unmarred, but when she pressed down—

A pair of eyes flashed in her mind, and suddenly the whole memory slammed back into her. The creature rocking her car, chasing her through the wood, and then that sharp, intense pain in her neck. Lila put a hand over her mouth, stomach churning. She was somewhere in West Virginia when her phone’s GPS lost connection, and it wasn’t long after that her car broke down, so she still had to be in the state. What lived in West Virginia? She knew of a few cryptids originating there, but none of that was real. There was no way she was attacked by the Flatwoods Monster, or the fucking Mothman.

But it quite distinctly had human hands. Or, at least, human-like. Its skin was chilled, yet the five slender fingers were unmistakable. Black bears didn’t have hands like that. And Christ knew what could move so fast that quietly.

“Or what would bring me inside somewhere,” she said out loud. There wasn’t an echo, so she wasn’t at the bottom of a well or something of that nature. Something wasn’t right here.

A violet glow sprouted in the brick, just where it met the floor. Lila gasped, stepping back as this small point of light traveled up the wall, outlining a rectangle in the rounded brick until it returned to the ground. Her prison shook with the hollow sound of bricks scraping against each other. The glowing rectangle shifted upwards, bringing that portion of the wall with it. Yellow light darted in to slowly cut through the darkness. Lila had to throw her arm over her eyes to keep the light from blinding her. Or worsening her headache.

In the new entryway stood a woman just an inch or so taller than Lila. Red hair in a small bun on her head, notepad in one hand and a pen in the other. She cleared her throat.

Lila pulled down her arm. Relief flooded her body for a fleeting moment before her eyes widened.

“What was that?” She pointed to the new hole in the wall. When the woman didn’t respond right away, she added, “The whole light thing? The wall? There’s nothing for the wall to go up into. It just—”

“Magic,” said the woman, voice flat, bored. She kept her eyes on the notepad. “Name and age?”

Lila’s eyebrows furrowed. “Huh?”

“Your name and age,” the woman repeated. “What, did you forget?”

“What are you—?”

The woman ignored her, scribbling something on her notepad. “Whatever. I’m sure we’ll find something in your car. Any allergies, food or otherwise? Any dietary restrictions?”

“No, wait, go back.” Lila held up her hands. “Magic? Are fucking with me right now? Who—” She took another step back, putting her hands on her head. Her pulse sped up. “—who put you up to this? Because I’m being pranked or something, right?”

“No,” replied the woman. “Are you up to date on all your vaccines?”

“What?” Lila stared at this woman for a moment before shaking her head. “Oh my God. Oh my God. I’ve been kidnapped. Did you drug me? Am I being trafficked?”

The woman sighed, pressing her lip into a line before repeating, “Have you gotten all your shots? Chickenpox, HPV, MMR, tetanus, hepatitis B, all that? If you need any, I need to know now so I can call for the vet.”

“What are you talking about? Who are you?” When she got no response, she shouted, “Hey!”

Finally, the woman looked up at her. She heaved another sigh. “Yes?”

“Answer me! Who are you? What is this?”

They held eye contact for a few seconds before the woman relented. “My name is Katherine, and I’m trying to do your intake. Lady Cassara prefers to have all of her pets’ medical information in one place. It makes it easier to care for them.”

Lila blinked hard, like she couldn’t see properly. “I’m sorry?” She shook her head again.“What do you mean, ‘pet?’”

“Exactly what it sounds like.” Katherine returned her gaze to her notepad. “Now, are you regularly taking any medications?”

Behind Katherine, Lila could make out a bit of the room outside. The walls were all brick out there, too. Light glinted off something mounted on the leftmost wall, drawing her attention. She moved her head to the side to get a better angle. Her heartrate skyrocketed.

Knives. It was a rack of knives.

Oh, fuck that.

Before Lila could even shift her foot, Katherine’s eyes flicked back up at her. “Don’t,” she warned. “I’m not supposed to harm you, but if you make things difficult I might not have a choice.”

Straightening, Lila replied, “I’m not scared of you.”

Katherine shook her head. “Word of advice?” She tucked the notepad under her arm, slotted the pen behind her ear. “The act gets old quick.”

 Lila’s eyes darted between Katherine and the room behind her. Her pulse roared in her ears.

And suddenly she was barreling forward, but no sooner than when her feet pushed off the ground was her face slamming into the wall, one arm wrenched behind her and the other firmly on her back. Familiarly cool hands held each of her wrists in place. They pushed her so solidly against the wall that she couldn’t even lift her cheek off the brick to look back.

“I’ve gone through this over and over for centuries,” Katherine spoke behind her. She kept her voice level. “Nothing you do can surprise me.” She paused. “And if you don’t keep still, I will hold you down and pour alcohol directly into those scrape s you’re getting all over your face.”

Lila struggled even harder in protest, dragging her quickly bloodying face along the brick as she did so. She yanked on her arms with every ounce of strength she could summon, but Katherine’s grip never wavered. Lila had taken classes. She’d practiced with others twice her size. She was always able to earn herself even the tiniest bit of wiggle room. Yet with each jerk and twitch, she remained cemented in place. Pushing against the wall with her legs yielded even less results, as did trying to kick behind her. Fury built up in her chest with each quick breath. Why wasn’t this working? Why wasn’t this working?

“I’m actually giving you some grace,” Katherine added, “since this is all new to you, but I have very little patience to spare.”

“Fucking—!” Lila grunted, kicking behind her again. “Let go of me! I swear to God I’ll—"

“You’ll what?” In one fluid motion Katherine swung Lila from the wall, pulled both arms back, and practically stomped on the back of her knees. Lila buckled, Katherine only releasing her arms when it was too late to catch herself.

At least Lila thought quickly enough to turn her head and fall onto her other cheek. But the fall rattled her skull. Her head pounded harder.

“You’ve got an hour to decide if you’re going to keep being an ass or not. Hopefully, you’ll be more cooperative by then.” From beneath her arm, Katherine retrieved her notepad, took the pen back from behind her ear. Lila could just barely hear Katherine writing over her heavy breaths. “But I’ll bring the sedative just in case.”

The violet glow returned as Lila heard Katherine walk off, and the world began to shudder again. The wall came back down fast, the awful sound of the brick noticeably louder this time.

“No.” Lila tried to scramble to her feet, but her knees wouldn’t cooperate, still in shock from the force of Katherine’s kick. “No, no, come on.” She pressed her hands against the wall and tried again. Darkness quickly swallowed up the yellow light again, only her feet left in its reach. “No, no, no, no, no.” Finally, she stood and turned around just in time to watch the wall finish its descent and reunite with the ground, smothering that last bit of light from outside.

“No!” She lunged at the wall, beat her fists against the brick. “No, No, No! Let me out!” she wailed. “Open this fucking door!”

As if to mock her, the illumination of the violet rectangle began to dim. Lila banged her fists harder, screamed louder, swore, ran through every threat she could think of. But nothing kept the strange glow from dying out, leaving her right where she started.

Trapped.

#whump #vampire whump #pet whump #lady whump #I haven't written this much since my grad thesis so I'm really proud of myself teehee

[charlieeenby]

just close your eyes, you'll be alright

bruce and jason deal with jason's fear of rape

warnings and tags: abo, discussions of child rape, threats of rape, time skips

title from safe & sound by taylor swift

Jason wanted to cuddle with Alpha. He wanted Alpha to hold him and scent him. He wanted to be safe. He didn’t feel safe, he was just hot and sweaty.

It wasn’t fair. Nothing was fair.

Jason whined and buried himself further into his nest. He knew he wasn’t supposed to be in here, but it smelled like Alpha. It smelled safe.

A door opened somewhere and Jason flinched and whimpered. Alpha wasn’t here to keep him safe.

“Jason?” a voice said and Jason felt a tear run down his face. Where was Alpha? The bed shifted and the blanket that Jason had covered himself in was pulled away gently.

Then Jason could smell Alpha. He whined and looked up to see Alpha leaning over him.

“Alpha.” Jason lunged forward and into Alpha’s chest, whining.

“Pup, what’s the matter?” Alpha asked, hugging Jason.

Jason didn’t know. He just wanted Alpha.

“Puppy?”

Whining, Jason bared his throat to Alpha. Maybe if he was good and submitted to Alpha, then Alpha wouldn't leave him alone.

Alpha, shifted Jason and then laid down, curling around Jason. “Hush now, pup. You’re safe. You’re okay. I’m here, Jaylad.” a wrist brushed against Jason’s neck.

Jason sighed softly, relaxing against Alpha.

“There we go.” Alpha rumbled softly and then he started purring. Jason responded with his own puppy purr, though is sounded different now.

Jason decided to worry about that later.

Bruce watched Jason sleep, worried sick about the pup that was curled up in his arms. Bruce has assumed that Jason would be an alpha, but the sweet, vanilla smell coming from him made Bruce sure he was wrong.

Jason was only 13 years old, he was presenting years too early, though Bruce had heard of pups presenting early if they felt it would keep them safe or secure their place in their pack.

He hoped Jason felt safe here, but the idea that Jason might have presented early because he didn’t feel secure in the pack worried Bruce.

Jason was his pup now, he’d pack claimed the pup a year ago and Jason had yelled at the social worker when he’d insinuated abuse. The courts couldn’t take him away from Bruce.

When Jason woke up, he panicked.

As he was scrambling out of the bed and away from the sleeping alpha, he got tangled in the blankets and ended up on the floor.

He heard Bruce move and he whimpered. The room smelled like omega heat and alpha. Jason didn’t like it and his panic spiked.

“Pup?” Bruce asked, coming around to kneel next to Jason.

Jason yelped and tried to get away, still tangled in the blankets. When he finally managed to get his legs untangled, he bolted, running out of the room and down the hall.

“ALFRED!” he yelled, knowing the old beta would help him. He heard Bruce call after him and he wanted to cry.

When he started running down the stairs, he called for Alfred again, still not hearing a response. Then he turned the corner into the kitchen, he slammed into someone.

“Hey, Jaybird! What are you yelling about?” Dick asked, smiling at Jason.

“Where’s Alfie?” Jason asked instead of answering.

“I am right here, Master Jason. Why on earth were you – oh!” Jason wrapped his arms around the man’s waist and pressed his face into his stomach. A hand rested on his hair for a moment before petting him softly. “Master Jason, what’s the matter?”

“I don’t – I didn’t -” Jason’s breath hitched and tears flowed freely down his cheeks, wetting the butler’s shirt.

“Jason? Where’d you, oh there you are.” Bruce sighed.

“Master Bruce, what has the pup so frightened?”

“Probably me.”

Alfred growled. He was a beta, but he was also in charge of Jason’s care and the idea that the young pup was scared of Bruce angered him.

“And why, pray tell, would he be afraid of you?” he asked calmly, hiding his rage.

“He presented last night. When I went to bed, he’d created a nest in my bed and wouldn’t let go of me. He woke up and panicked.”

Alfred hummed. Then he knelt down in front of Jason. “Master Jason, are you hurt?”

Jason shook his head no.

“Okay. Where you frightened when you woke up?”

Jason nodded.

“Alright. Can you tell me why?” Alfred asked gently.

“No.” Jason whispered.

“That’s alright, pup. Are you in any pain?”

“My head hurts. And everything smells really strong.”

Alfred nodded. “Pup, do you know what’s going on?”

“No. Woke up in Bruce’s bed. I don’t -” Jason hiccuped. “Don’t know how I got there.” his chest heaved as he tried not to cry.

“Pup, you presented as an omega last night.” Alfred spoke in a soft and quiet tone. “Master Bruce found you nesting in his bed and you wanted him near you.”

“But I don’t remember goin’ in there.” Jason said tearfully.

“That is unfortunately, quite common.”

Jason whimpered. “Don’t like it.”

“I know.” Alfred paused, trying to think of a way to soothe the pups fear. “Master Jason, would you like me to conduct a medical checkup? That way you would know for certain whether or not Master Bruce hurt you in any way?”

Jason nodded a little. “Yeah.”

Alfred smiled at the young boy, despite the pain in his heart due to the fact that Jason still didn’t trust Bruce enough to know he’d never lay a hand on him.

“Alright. Why don’t we go down to the cave and do that? Then we can have breakfast.”

Jason just nodded and pressed a little closer to Alfred.

Alfred scooped the pup up and tucked him under his chin. Then he stood and nodded once to Bruce and Dick. “I will prepare breakfast after I come back with Master Jason. You will both be staying up here until we return. Am I clear?”

Bruce just nodded and Alfred could see the pain in his eyes.

“Yeah, Alfred. We’ll stay up here.” Dick spoke very softly.

“You’re sure?” Jason asked, wide eyed.

“I’m sure, Master Jason. I would never protect Bruce if he had hurt you. If he had, I would shoot him in the genitals and then I would make sure he bled out from that.”

Jason giggled a little. “That’s not very nice, Alfie.” he whispered.

Alfred smiled. “Neither is hurting a pup.”

That made the boy frown. “But I’m not a pup anymore. I presented.”

“Master Jason, look at me.” the boy looked up. “You are 13 years old. Until you are 18, you will be a pup. Presented or not, you are still legally a pup. And in this house, in this pack, you are a pup until you are over 18 and no longer want to be a pup. If you don’t believe me, ask Master Dick.” Alfred spoke firmly, not leaving any room for doubt.

Jason leaned forward and hugged Alfred tightly.

Alfred wrapped his arms around him. “Oh, pup. It’s all right.”

“Te amo, Abuelito.”

Alfred had a tear in his eye. Jason didn’t speak Spanish often, but when he did, it always felt like a special occasion.

“I love you too, Jason.”

The pair stayed that way for a few minutes, interrupted by Jason’s stomach growling. The boy laughed.

Alfred smiled. “Why don’t we go upstairs and you can help me make breakfast.”

“Really? I thought I wasn’t allowed in the kitchen.”

“Master Dick and Master Bruce aren’t, but until you cause a disaster, you are welcome to assist me.”

“Sweet! Will you teach me how to cook? I always wanted to, but…” Jason trailed off.

“Of course, I’d be happy to teach you.”

Jason beamed. “Thank you!”

As Alfred led Jason back upstairs, he wondered if the boy would still fear Bruce. He hopped not, but none of them were sure what all Jason had experienced on the streets.

When they entered the kitchen, Bruce and Dick looked over at them.

“Is everything all good, little wing?” Dick asked Jason.

The pup nodded but stuck close to Alfred.

Dick smiled. “That’s good.”

“Master Jason is going to help me make breakfast.” Alfred announced. “Does anyone have any requests?”

“Oh, can we have waffles?” Dick asked excitedly.

Alfred nodded. “Master Bruce?”

“Waffles are fine.” he said softly, not looking at Alfred or Jason.

“Alright then. Master Jason, shall we get started?”

Jason nodded, and seemed to relax a little bit.

(“Dickie, can I ask you a question?”

Dick smiled at Jason. “Yeah, what’s up?”

Jason sat down next to Dick. “Are you still a pup? Cause Alfie said that I was pup until I was over 18 and said I wasn’t a pup no more.”

“I’m not legally a pup, but here at home, yeah, I’m still a pup. And so are you. Alfie’s right. You’re still a pup even though you presented.”)

“Hey! Let go of me!” Jason yelled, pulling away from the drunk alpha that had grabbed his wrist.

The alpha laughed and tugged Jason closer. “Oh, come on. We’ll have so much fun.”

Jason whimpered. The alpha stunk of alcohol and Jason knew what drunk alphas did to omegas and pups.

“I don’t what to. Let me go.” Jason was terrified and sure his scent betrayed that. “Please.”

“Like it when you beg.” the alpha sneered.

A hand landed on Jason’s waist and the fear turned to terror. “LET GO OF ME!” he shouted, tears rolling down his face. He knew he wasn’t supposed to yell, but he was so scared of what this alpha would do if he didn’t.

For a minute, Jason wasn’t sure anyone had hear him, or if they had, if they even cared. But then a hand came from behind him and grabbed the alpha’s wrist.

“Let go of my son.” Bruce hissed and Jason relaxed a fraction. “Now.” his voice wasn’t loud, but there was a threat behind his words.

The alpha dropped his hands from Jason like he’d been burned. “We were just having some fun, man. Chill out.”

Bruce snarled and twisted the man’s arm until Jason heard a snap and the alpha screamed. Bruce let go and then pulled Jason to him, kneeling down in front of him.

“Can I see your wrist, pup?” he spoke gently.

Jason offered up his wrist. Bruce held it carefully, inspecting the red marks. “This will probably bruise. How much does it hurt?”

“Just a little bit.” Jason whispered, still shaken.

“Okay. I think we should find Dick and then go home.”

Jason hesitated.

“Pup?”

“Are you mad at me?”

Bruce looked confused, so Jason pushed forward.

“Are you mad that I yelled. You said I had to behave really well and yellin’ ain’t behavin’ well and I -” Jason began to hyperventilate.

Bruce shushed him gently, rubbing his hands up and down Jason’s arms. “Pup, listen to me. That alpha was going to hurt you. You were protecting yourself. Yes, I want you to be well behaved at these things, but not at the cost of your safety. Do you understand?”

Jason nodded and leaned into Bruce, crying.

“Oh, pup. You’re safe now. I promise.”

“Wanna go home.” Jason cried, and Bruce hugged him loosely. Jason wanted a real hug, wanted to feel safe. So he pressed himself closer to Bruce and buried his nose into the alpha’s neck.

For a moment, Bruce didn’t move and Jason started to worry he’d done something wrong. But then Bruce’s arms hugged him tightly and picked him up, standing and moving away from the alpha that was still wailing on the floor, keeping him tucked close.

He carried Jason over to where Dick was talking to a group of people. “Dick, it’s time to go.” there was no room for argument in his voice and when Dick saw Jason in Bruce’s arms, he didn’t even say goodbye, he just followed Bruce out.

Jason jerked awake, panting and afraid. A whimper escaped his throat as he threw the covers off and got out of bed.

Moving quietly, he crept out of his room and down the hall, stopping whenever he heard a noise. When he got to Bruce’s room, he hesitated.

Bruce had said that if he ever needed anything, he just had to ask. And right now, the only thing Jason wanted was to nest with his alpha.

Summoning all the courage he had, he knocked softly on the door.

A few seconds later, he heard Bruce’s feet hit the floor. A few seconds more, and the door opened. Bruce looked down at him, a little bleary eyed.

“Jason? What’s wrong?”

Jason shrugged.

Bruce let out a soft sigh. “Do you need something?”

Jason nodded.

“Okay. Is it something I can get you?”

“Kinda.” Jason whispered, staring at the floor.

Bruce hummed. “Is it something I can do?”

Jason nodded again.

“Okay. Are you worried I’ll be mad at you?”

“Not really.”

Bruce knelt down in front of Jason.

“Sweetheart, what’s going on?”

Jason hesitated, then said, “I had a nightmare.”

“Do you want to come sleep in my bed with me?”

“Yeah.”

Bruce smiled. “Okay. Dick’s in here with me. Is that okay?”

“Yeah. Can, um, can I sleep in between you guys?” Jason asked quietly.

“We’ll have to ask him, but probably.” Bruce said, then stepped to the side, letting Jason go into the room.

“B, what’s goin’ on?” Dick asked form the bed, voice soft and rough.

“Jason’s joining us. He wants to know if he can sleep in between us.”

“Course. Come here, lil’ wing.”

Jason crawled up onto the giant bed and tucked himself against Dick’s chest. Bruce waited until he was settled before crawling into bed behind him.

Moving slowly, he scooted closer to Jason until his chest was pressed against Jason’s back. Then he draped an arm across Jason and Dick, tugging them closer.

He sighed softly, relaxing now that he had his pups close by.

Jason did too, and it only took a few minutes for a soft purr to start echoing from his chest.

Dick and Bruce started purring as well.

“Little wing, wake up.”

Jason groaned and rolled over. Well, he tried, but something stopped him. He huffed.

“Jason. Wake up.”

“Fuck off, Dickhead.” he mumbled, keeping his face pressed against his pillow.

“Jay, language.” Bruce’s voice rumbled softly from underneath him. Jason jumped, a whimper escaping him. “Sorry, pup. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Jason picked his head up and looked at Bruce, who had a soft smile on his face.

“Hey.” Bruce said gently. “You okay?”

“Yeah. Didn’t realize I was laying on top of you.”

Dick laughed, and Jason looked to his right to glare at Dick. “You didn’t want to share at all last night. I thought you’d cuddle with me, but no, you clung to B the whole night.”

“Which is fine, Jason. Dick just found it amusing.”

“You’re not angry?” Jason wasn’t sure who he was asking but they both said ‘no’ at the same time.

Dick spoke first. “Jay, I thought it was funny how cuddly you got with him in your sleep because you aren’t when you’re awake. I also thought the fact that Bruce refused to move in case he disturbed you very funny.”

“And I like cuddling with my pups, so no, I am not mad. I was a little surprised when I woke up to find you on top of me, but I was not, and am not upset.” Bruce said firmly, offering his wrist to scent Jason.

Jason tilted his head back and let Bruce scent him, a quiet purr emanating from his chest.

"Can we go see if Alfred's made breakfast yet? I'm hungry." Dick asked after a moment.

Bruce smiled and sat up, keeping Jason tucked to his chest. "Alright, let's go." he said. When he tried to set Jason down, the pup clung to him, his little face pressed against Bruce's neck.

"Jaylad, do you want me to carry you?"

"Please?"

Bruce hummed. "Of course." he stood up and Dick followed him out of the room, somehow full of energy and excited.

Tim sighed softly as he relaxed in Jason’s arms.

Jason had found the pup while on patrol, shivering and shaking in an alleyway and he hadn’t been able to leave him. So he’d scooped the pup up and brought him to the cave.

There, he had asked Tim for his name and his address. When Tim had told him, Jason asked if anyone would be looking for him.

The hesitation was enough for Jason to know that, no, there probably wasn’t anyone looking for sweet little Tim. Jason had hugged Tim and started purring.

Tim had frozen for a moment, then started crying, clinging to Jason.

When Jason asked what was wrong, Tim had told him that no one ever held him anymore. Jason asked if Tim wanted to stay here for a while.

It was then that Tim revealed that he knew everyone’s identities.

Despite his shock, Jason said the offer still stood, and Tim had excepted, though he seemed nervous about something.

Jason changed into his regular clothes then escorted Tim upstairs and asked Alfred if they could have hot chocolate.

Alfred had agreed and instructed them to sit in the living room. Now they were cuddled up in one of the giant arm chairs, waiting on the hot chocolate.

“Jason?” Bruce’s voice was loud and it startled both boys.

“Yeah?” Jason called out, scenting Tim to keep him calm.

Bruce came into the room, allowing Jason got a good whiff of his scent and Jason realized that Bruce was panicked.

“Jaylad, are you – who’s this?”

“This is Timmy. He’s mine now.” Jason said simply.

Bruce blinked. Then Alfred came in with the hot chocolate.

“Ah, Master Bruce, how are you?”

“I’m fine, Alfred. Um, what’s happening?”

Alfred hummed as he set down two mugs on the end table. “Master Jason and Master Tim are having hot chocolate because Master Tim was quite cold and I have found it to be one of the best ways to warm up cold pups.”

“Okay, and where did Tim come from?”

Jason answered. “I found him in an alleyway. His old pack wasn’t takin care of him, so we’re keepin ‘im.”

Bruce didn’t have a clue what he was supposed to do. The parenting books didn’t prepare him for his child adopting another child. Granted, Jason was almost 17, but he was still a puppy.

Before Bruce could say anything, Dick bounced into the room. “Jay!” he flipped over the couch, moving in to hug his little brother but froze when he saw a pup, half asleep on Jason. “Where did you get a puppy?”

“I found him. He’s mine now.”

Dick tilted his head, glanced at Bruce, then Alfred, then back to Jason. “Do I get to cuddle with him?”

Jason looked at Dick and let out a soft snarl. Bruce was ready to intervene, but Dick just moved on.

“Okay. What’s his name?”

“Tim.”

Dick smiled. “That’s a nice name.”

Jason purred, nuzzling against Tim’s head.

Alfred cleared his throat and Jason looked up at him. “Hot chocolate, young sirs.”

Smiling, Jason said, “Thank you.”

Bruce gave up. It was official. He gave up, he didn’t care anymore.

With Tim, Bruce had understood Jason’s need to take to pup in. But now, he didn’t.

Steph was never adopted, but she was around enough that she may as well be. Cass, despite being older than Jason, had been adopted. Duke wasn’t adopted at first, but then his parents had died, so Bruce had claimed him.

Now, Jason was sitting in the cave, cradling an infant pup. Full on baby. Bruce had no idea where Jason had even gotten the pup and he wasn’t sure he even wanted to know.

But he was going to have to do something about it. Because he was the one adopting all of the pups Jason found and brought home.

Bruce let out a long sigh, then stood and made his way over to Jason.

“Jaylad. Who’s this?”

Jason didn’t look up at him. “He doesn’t have a name.”

“Okay. Where did you get him from?”

Oddly, Jason flinched.

Bruce knelt down so he could see Jason’s face.

“Sweetheart, what’s the matter?”

“I don’t want to give him up.”

Bruce frowned. “What do you mean?”

“I wanna keep him.”

“Jay, if he needs a home, then we can give him a home.”

“I know. But I want him to be mine.”

Bruce had no idea what was going on, but clearly Jason was upset. “Jason, I don’t understand.”

Jason let out a shaky sigh. “You know how when I brought Tim home, you adopted him?”

“I do.”

“I wanted to.”

“You wanted to adopt him?”

Jason nodded. “And I know I was still a pup and they wouldn’t have let me adopt Cass or Duke, but…” his breath hitched.

“But you’d probably be able to adopt this pup.”

“Yeah.”

“Jay, I’m not gonna tell you no, and I’m not going to try to stop you, but the courts will want you to have a stable job and a home. I can and will help you, if that’s what you want.”

Jason looked at Bruce with wet eyes and tear tracks on his cheeks. “Really?”

“Sweetheart, of course. I want you to be happy. If you want to adopt this pup, then I will do everything I can to make that happen for you.”

Jason whimpered and Bruce reached our and wiped away the tears, then pulled Jason into a hug, careful not to squish the baby in between them.

Damian was the sweetest pup Bruce had ever met.

Jason was letting him watch the puppy while he interviewed for a job, and Bruce was captivated. Damian’s bright green eyes seemed to take in everything, and he was so quiet, even when he needed something.

The front door opened and Bruce heard Jason growing softly to himself and the scent of upset omega drifted in.

A moment later, Jason came in, flopped onto the couch next to Bruce and leaned against the alpha, cheek squished on his shoulder.

“Hey, sweetheart. How’d it go?”

“They don’t hire nursing omegas.” Jason’s voice threatened to crack.

Bruce sighed, annoyed for his son.

After sitting in silence for a few minutes, Jason hummed then spoke. “Are you still willing to get me a job?”

“Of course.”

“Does Wayne Enterprises hire nursing omegas?”

Bruce snorted. “Yes, we do. I’d be slaughtered if I tried to say no for that reason.”

“Good. Got any mechanic jobs open?”

“Not sure. I can look later, see what we have. I’ll email you the positions. I assume you want to do as much of it without my help as possible?”

“Yeah.”

Bruce hummed, then shifted so he could wrap his arm around Jason. “Love you, Jaylad.”

“Love you too, B.” Jason yawned and tucked his feet up, relaxing against Bruce. It only took a few minutes for him to doze off, Damian following suit not long after.

Bruce was out seconds after Damian.

As Alfred stepped into the den, wondering were Jason and Bruce where. He hadn’t seen them since Jason had left for an interview, and no one else had seen them since.

Flipping on the light, Alfred relaxed, a smile on his face.

Bruce was on the couch, Damian in one of his arms, Jason tucked against his side with the other. His head was tilted back, mouth open and soft snores coming from him.

#a/b/o #omega jason todd #alpha bruce wayne #batfam #tw discussion of rape #time skips #angst #happy ending #accidental child acquisition #my work

[theoddcatlady]

Instructions on How to Become a Clown

Found this journal in an old storage locker I had taken possession of. It’s dated in the summer of 1985, and the pages are curled, smelling faintly of popcorn. As for the contents… well, go ahead and start reading.

June 1

Infiltrating Funtasia’s Dreamscape Circus was easier than I thought it was going to be. All I did was walk up to the ringmaster and he called me Petey, scolded me for showing up a day late, handed me a uniform, and told me to start mucking the animal cages. Whoever this Petey was, I’ll apologize at a later time for taking his job. I can just say I was confused since my real name is close enough to ‘Petey’.

This has to be where Janice Meyers ended up. The circus was in town the weekend she disappeared, and the friend of hers I interviewed said she had decided to go back on Saturday night. Her parents did admit there was an argument that night about their daughter’s grades, but insisted that Janice would never have run away of her own free will. But then again, fifteen year olds aren’t known for their soundest decisions.

Most circuses that have fallen into my line of investigation are closed communities- any outside questioning is shut off. I’ll have to spend a few days assuring these people I’m just like any of them. I just have to last long enough to determine if any of these people are Janice.

June 5

This is the easiest investigation I’ve ever had to conduct. Not only have the circus people been more than welcoming, I think I’ve figured out which one of the clowns is Janice.

Running away with the circus was a childhood dream of mine, and it seems she’s one of the people who pursued that dream. She says her name is Jenny, but her face shape is similar enough to to Janice’s. I just need to catch her out of make up- she goes everywhere with her face painted white and red hearts painted on her cheeks, so I’ve been yet to see if she has that beauty mark on her cheek. I’d like to catch her alone too, but she always hangs out with the fellow teenagers. It even appears she has a boyfriend, one of the acrobats named James.

What happened seemed straightforward at least. Girl falls in love with a boy, runs off to be with him, it’s the oldest story in the book. Once I confirm her identity, I’ll let her parents know posthaste. After, of course, I find the nearest police station and let them know that one of the clowns is a runaway girl.

June 8

Today was the first performance I was lucky enough to catch. This may be the most fun job I’ve taken in a long time. Most of the time, being a private investigator means I’m following unfaithful spouses or checking to see if someone’s scamming their insurance. Those drain at your sanity after a few years.

Today the ringmaster, Jacob Tanner, pulled me aside and told me to take a seat with the rest of the guests. I’ve worked hard, I deserve a breather.

The performances here are fantastic. The clowns are hilarious, the acrobats are graceful, and the animals are as gentle as your average pet dog or cat. Thanks to working here, I get free snacks too. I don’t know how it’s special, but the pink lemonade here is to die for. I’d drink it all day if my stomach wouldn’t explode.

Everything went off without a hitch, we’ll be on the road in the morning. I imagine I’ll confirm if Janice is Jenny for once and for all now that she’ll no doubt be out of costume. Such a shame too. I think she’s really enjoying her time here. But she is a child, and she needs to go back home.

June 15

Janice is Jenny. I caught her out of make up before she went on for her act, and she has the beauty mark. But there’s something stopping me from letting the police know.

There was an accident that happened tonight.

The act unfolded as normal, least I figure as much. A strongman named Louis Wicker was the base of a stack of clowns, at the top was young Janice. Five people stacked on one another, it was an unbelievable sight.

So unbelievable that it felt like a dream when Louis stumbled and the clown on his shoulders lost his balance. They all came crashing down like bowling pins. It certainly was not part of the act, judging by Janice’s terrified scream as she plummeted to the ground. I heard something crack and her body went limp.

A comical looking mini ambulance was driven out by more clowns as the ringmaster assured us all that everything was fine. The fake clown doctors tossed the clowns that were knocked unconscious by the fall into the ambulance with as much care as you’d throw a bag of flour. The conscious clowns and Louis were escorted off to the side.

I’ve tried to find the injured clowns after the performance, but they’re gone. I don’t know where they’re being kept. After a fall like that the extent of their injuries must be horrific. Tomorrow I’m going to the police to report this incident, as I didn’t see any real ambulances or any sign they were taken to a proper hospital. And without a doubt, Janice needs emergency care.

June 16

Now I’m just confused.

Janice is fine. Somehow completely, totally fine, as are the rest of the clowns and Louis. I saw her this morning at breakfast, just as energetic and happy as ever. She and James were sharing a plate of muffins and a bag of cotton candy… yes, for breakfast. Teenagers, what can you do. I’m not any better, I’m having pink lemonade with every meal, between them too. I may have to ask for the recipe, it’s genuinely the best lemonade I’ve ever had.

I did manage to question Janice about the fall and she brushed it off, saying that the clowns here have taken worse falls and bounced back even quicker. She mostly felt bad for Louis, she confided, as he blamed himself.

Something’s not right here. I’m going to stick around for a bit longer, as Janice is in perfectly good health and in no immediate danger. James seems like a solid boy, as does the other friends she’s picked up while she’s been here. We’re pulling into another town tonight.

June 18

We’re leaving tonight. We’re not spending the whole week here.

I’ve gotten quite used to the schedule already, especially because my job’s quite easy now that my muscles have adapted to the labor. So last night when I was roused and ordered to get the animals ready for travel, I was more than a little confused.

I managed to hitch a ride with James, Janice, and a juggler named Charlie. I grabbed a seat in front seat of the cab of their truck with Janice and Charlie. James was in the backseat with a girl I’d never seen before.

Teenager, not much older than Janice, with a blanket over her shoulders and face puffy and red with tears. I think she’s another runaway. James was very gentle with her, giving her water and pink lemonade to drink while stroking her hair. I’ve never met such a sensitive teenage boy, I can see why Janice is so taken with him.

Speaking of which- she’s not exactly happy with this new development. Ah, young love, truly so fickle. This might work out though, if Janice just wants to leave, then I’ll simply reveal my identity and take her home to her parents. It’s not like they can hold us here.

June 19

The kids spent their time coming up with a new name for the girl in the truck. Whatever her name was previously, she doesn’t want anything to do with it anymore. I don’t know much about her backstory, only that she was in a bad place and needed to get out.

After many ideas and more than a little bickering, James suggested the name Dixie, and that’s the name she’s going with. I think it’s rather cute, and it certainly suits her. Janice is managing to be polite, but I can already tell she’s seething with jealousy.

Something about that performance gone wrong is still nagging at me, and there is the fact that Dixie is likely another runaway child. But unlike Janice, I don’t think Dixie has a good home to return to, with parents that worry about her safety. She’s tense, flinches at loud voices and is constantly apologizing for just taking up space.

You won’t find me reporting her. That’s not my concern. My concern is Janice and no one else.

June 22

Last night’s show went well, Dixie’s yet to perform but according to James she’s currently training. Janice is sulky but refuses to tell James what’s on her mind, at least as far as I know. I think my plan of just waiting it out is actually going to pay off.

But then again, maybe I should spend more time second guessing my judgment.

It was after the show, I was heading back to the truck when I heard what I knew could only be one thing- drunk show goers. This wouldn’t be such a problem, except I was taking a shortcut through where the animals were kept after the show.

I made haste to the source and sure enough, these three idiots were sticking their hands in the cage, just for moments at a time to taunt the tigress that was in there. Obviously Lovely Belle, or just ‘Belle’ for short, was less than impressed.

I broke into a run when I saw that one of the idiots actually managed to get the cage door to unlock. It swung open and Belle trotted out, her ears pressed flat against her head as she growled. I expected one of the idiots to become mincemeat as I saw her raise her paw.

Only Charlie seemingly appeared out of nowhere and body slammed her target out of the way, saving him from his deserved fate of being a cat toy. The tiger raked its claws down Charlie’s back and he screeched before he tumbled to the ground, huddling into a little ball.

His yellow clown suit was soaked in blood by the time I got there. The idiots bolted, screaming their heads off, while Belle flopped down on the ground and licked clean her claws. In the dark it was nearly impossible to see how bad the wounds were, and before I could get him into the light the fellow circus people flooded around Charlie. Someone threw a blanket on him and the Wicker Brothers gathered him up and carried him into a trailer. Of course I told someone to call an ambulance, and I was assured that he’d be given proper medical care.

This morning though, Charlie’s back to… well, being Charlie. Little bastard put a tack on my seat and I didn’t notice it until I’d sat my full weight on it. He’s acting like nothing happened last night and assured me that it looked far worse than it was. He even demonstrated by taking off his shirt and gesturing to his back, which had only a few bandages on it- nothing like what you’d need if you were attacked by a tiger.

I keep telling myself that I really must have overreacted last night, that my brain is exaggerating the details. But as many times as I run the incident over and over again in my head�� the more I’m certain that there’s no way in hell that Charlie should be okay right now.

June 25

Well, it finally happened. I’m taking Janice home.

I was talking with the clearly sullen girl, being as subtle as I could about her going home, when Dixie emerged from a tent. I’d not seen her since she was given her new name, I was starting to wonder where the girl had gotten off to, and here she was. She had pinned her hair up into twin pigtails and although her clown make up made her look like she was crying, she was clearly grinning from ear to ear. Dixie had become a clown, and I think that is the life that will suit her the best.

Charlie gaped like a fish and even James seemed taken off guard. “Already?” he croaked out, staring at the girl.

Dixie nodded and spun around. “I’m one of the clowns! Put away your frowns! I’ve taken them all, no more will I fall, for I am a clown!” she said before cartwheeling over to the table and using the flower pinned to her sweater to squirt me in the face with what smelled like really strong rose perfume.

Charlie clapped while James sprung to his feet, picking Dixie up and spinning her around and around. It might have gone a little over my head, but the three seemed really happy… until Janice slammed her fist into the table.

The girl had gone red with rage, getting to her feet and screaming, “Liar! Liar! It takes weeks to become a clown! You’re a fraud! A fake! A phony! Everything about you, from your name to… to you, is so disgusting and fake!”

It was so awkward. I desperately tried not to cringe, but I don’t think I quite managed. Dixie was surprised for a moment, before her bottom lip trembled. Now those tears going down her cheeks were real as she began to sob. Charlie got up to try to comfort her but she took off, running right back into the tent she had been training in.

James watched Dixie go before turning to Janice. To his credit, he seemed mostly calm, but his fists were balled up so tightly I was afraid I’d have to get between the lovebirds to prevent a brawl. He just gestured her to follow him and the pair went off.

I did my best to attempt to listen in on the argument, but I only got bits and pieces- enough to know that James called Janice for being way out of line and that although he really cared about her, he wasn’t really feeling the spark anymore. Janice accused him of leading her on and called Dixie a lot of names I won’t be writing down, as I don’t care for putting those kinds of words to paper, and she was the one that ended up trying to knock James’ block off. That’s when I intervened and separated the fighting teenagers.

While James blew off some steam with the knife throwers, I laid my cards on the table- I told Janice everything, that her parents sent me to find her, that they were really worried, and that it was time for her to come home. Maybe it’s a bit low to spring this offer on her when she was so emotionally raw, but it was my chance. And it worked.

We’ll be leaving Saturday night. One more performance, and then we’ll go when everyone’s packing up to go. I will miss my time at the circus. But I’m glad I’m going home.

June 30?

Everything’s fucked.

I don’t know what went wrong. Let me start from the beginning. Just in case I don’t make it out of here. Or maybe if I do. I’m so fucked.

Leaving went off without a hitch. Janice left a note for James, telling him goodbye and good luck with Dixie, and we took off in my car. No one even noticed we left, at least at the time. I wish someone did, someone stopped us before we went too far.

The drive was smooth, Janice badmouthed Dixie which I mostly ignored, I was already mentally making plans for how I was going to relax in the upcoming weeks… and then the cramps started.

It was just small twinges in my stomach at first. I figured my circus diet was finally catching up with me. I may have been in the best shape of my life, but you can only eat corndogs and circus peanuts for so long before something gives.

Janice rubbed her neck, muttering about being sore. The last thing I said was that I was pretty sure that the ibuprofen was in the glovebox when my gut erupted in pain. I nearly doubled over, going stiff as I wrapped a hand around my middle. I couldn’t speak, the pain was so bad. I tried to tell Janice that I needed to pull over because I was going to be sick, but the moment I opened my mouth all I could do was scream.

I looked up to see Janice’s face had gone white. Blood first only dripped from her nose, then it began to pour, spouting red all over the front of her shirt and the dashboard. I heard a snap, a crackle, and Janice’s arm was bent in three different ways, white shards of bone stabbing out of her skin.

I jerked the steering wheel and we went into the ditch, I banged my head off the dash but at least we had stopped. I bit my tongue and tried to unbuckle myself but the damn buckle locked, so I was just struggling uselessly while Janice’s body continued to break.

She cried, slumping against the car door as I heard more snaps and pops. Her leg twisted the wrong way around. The way she’d flinch made me think of when I saw someone trying to nurse broken ribs. Any twitch or movement looked agonizing.

Janice looked at me once last time.

“Help me-”

Her neck abruptly snapped to the side, her eyes rolled back, and just like that Janice Meyers was dead.

I finally got loose from the goddamn seatbuckle and threw open the car door, stumbling out as it felt like something was trying to rip its way out of my gut. I collapsed on my hands and knees, the world spinning around me before I heard an audible gurgle from my stomach.

I vomited all over the ground beneath me before I collapsed. The world spun circles around me, round and round like a carousel, and all I could really remember before it all went black was that my vomit was bright pink and smelled of lemonade.

I woke up here. I don’t know where I am. The cement walls hang with circus posters from years past, stretching back to the 1920’s.The lights are sometimes on. They’re usually off. I’m hurrying my writing because I don’t know when they’ll turn off again. Curtains hang from the ceiling, dirty, old, and I swear they change positions whenever the lights come back on. I don’t know. I can’t be sure.

They beat me. Charlie, James. For being teenagers they’re much stronger than they look. James was the instigator, Charlie mostly just shoved me back whenever I tried to make for the door. I think James was supposed to use this paddle the entire time, but he dropped it in favor of his fists, and he didn’t hold back. The lights went on and off, on and off, I must have lost unconsciousness by the time they left. I can’t find the door anymore. I don’t know if it was even there to begin with.

What did I get into

why is Janice dead

what have I done

. . .

I can’t tell if it’s night or day. I found the door again, it was just hiding behind the blue curtain. It’s locked, and I can’t make it budge when I throw myself against it, it must be locked from the outside. I need to conserve my strength.

There’s no food offered. Just fucking. Bottles of pink lemonade lined by the door. They’re mocking me. I’m not going to drink it. It might be poisoned anyway.

I have to get out of here and I can’t brute force it. I have to wait until the door opens again.

. . .

Throat’s so dry. No one’s come through the door.

They’ve left me to die down here haven’t they? Because of the car accident. That’s had to be what happened. A body doesn’t crumple. I must have swerved to avoid something and crashed the car. I’m sorry James. If you read this after I die I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt Janice. I swear. You may have not been in love with Janice but I know she meant a lot to you. I’m sorry to you too Charlie.

Please let me out of here.

. . .

The lemonade’s so refreshing. I had to drink it. It’s so hot in here. There’s no ventilation. I need to keep writing. I don’t know why they didn’t take my journal but it might be my only way to stay sane.

I can’t remember the accident still. I can’t tell if there was one or if really something else did happen in that car. All I recall is Janice’s body looking like a trainwreck.

They have to come in sooner or later. That’s when I can escape.

. . .

No escape. They made the door go away again.

It was James. And Jacob Tanner. And someone else. A magician, maybe? The door disappeared, they were there, and they began my training.

Jacob said they need someone to take Janice’s place. They’re down a clown now, and since it was my fault because I took her too far from the circus, they want me to become a clown.

No shit I told them no. I’m not going to be a fucking clown. I’m a detective. I told them that. Which in response James put a stupid hat on my head and declared me a clown detective before laughing like he told the best joke in the world.

This ‘training’ is just an excuse to torture me. They hand me balls to juggle, whenever I refuse to juggle or dropped them I’d get cuffed in the back of the head or whacked with a paddle. The last time I dropped to the ground I closed my eyes for just a second before I woke back up and everyone was gone.

I keep checking behind every curtain. I can’t find the door. All four walls are blank. I don’t know how but they made the door go away.

They left me a bag of popcorn too. It’s stale as fuck but I needed to eat something.

. . .

I keep begging for their forgiveness. I’ve stopped fighting back. I just want to go home. I won’t tell a soul. No one would believe me anyway.

They just hand me a knife and tell me if I don’t hit the bullseye this time they’re going to break my fingers.

. . .

Am I really alone in here?

Sometimes I think the curtains are hiding someone. I keep sweeping them out of the way, but there’s no one there when I do it. Maybe it’s like the door that keeps disappearing.

When I’m trained, I see them talk to this person sometimes. They turn their head and ask something, I can’t ever really hear it, but they call this person the ringmaster… even Jacob calls him the Ringmaster. I flipped back to check my memory, James is the ringmaster… or maybe he isn’t?

I don’t know anymore. My brain is swimming. They keep calling me Petey. My name is Paul. I’m Paul. Not… not Petey.

Or maybe not Paul anymore. Maybe not.

. . .

The Ringmaster has always been here. Behind the only curtain that’s never torn, she’s watching me. I can’t see her except for her silhouette, where she lounges to overlook my training. I’m too scared to move it, now that I see this room for what it really is.

I’m in a tent. I’m in a circus tent, and my face is smeared with white paint that I don’t think I put on. I’m not sure. I didn’t put in my journal that I put it on. I definitely didn’t keep this stupid detective hat on.

I’m now back in the cement room, but it only looks like that. I know the truth.

I need to pull back her curtain.

. . .

Dixie came to visit me.

She’s such a sweet girl. She yelled at James and told him to be nice to me. She cradled my head and soothed me while I cried in her arms. I told her I wanted to go home, that my name isn’t Petey and it won’t be Petey, and that I won’t be a clown detective.

She told me a story of a girl who no one loved. That no one saw as a girl, but as a thing. An embarrassment, an inconvenience. And how she had climbed to the tippy top of a tall building, all to end her life when she saw the circus lights. She figured, why not spend the last few hours she had on earth at a place that was truly happy?

She told me… that the circus wanted her, and it wants me too. It’s always wanted me. It’s why it let me in. Nothing was accidental.

Dixie left me with a cup of pink lemonade and a spam sandwich with the crusts cut off. The nostalgic taste made me cry.

The curtain needs to go. I need to know why the circus wants me.

Please tell me why I have to stay.

. . .

ha ha

ha ha

well the time has come

to go where the air smells like popcorn and bubblegum

where the tents reach the sky

and we no longer need to cry

this is how I have become a clown

this is how you become a clown

come to the circus that’s here in town

when all you’ve known has burned down

there you will meet an Acrobat, a Juggler, and a Crying Girl

they’ll help you give it a whirl

you’ll be given pink lemonade and all sorts of delights

you’ll begin your training that very night

be sure not to sob when it hurts

you’re just getting your just desserts

to be a clown is to be forever

as long as the circus endeavors

pull back the curtain and meet the Ringmaster

A beauty with skin of alabaster

with cheeks redder than apples candied

she smiles at you and offers you a glass, brandied

you take it, you don’t say no to a woman like that

once you sip, she will give your head a pat

“You’re alone in the world, aren’t you?”

She’ll say, knowing that it’s true

you’ll nod, you don’t attempt to deny

that all this time you’ve just stood by

this world has not been kind

to those who don’t fit into average humankind

“You’ve always been one of us,” she told me

“That girl who died was too carefree,

She never understood what it meant to be a clown

how you should build up, not cut down

that in this circus you’ll never feel harm

that here, you’re always meant to charm

but once you leave, you will be pained

from that, you cannot be unchained

sad that Janice had to die

but come now, you have had your cry

it’s time for you to smile

you have finally passed your trial!

It’s time to become a clown

to your knees and bow down

you are now one of mine

in fact, you have become one of my bloodline!”

I knelt before my Ringmaster, taking her hand

this circus is a family that will never disband

and just like that I’ve become a clown

never again to frown

I hope that you’ll see these tents one day

and come on through the doorway

if you want to become a clown, here’s a tip

get some pink lemonade, have a sip

run away with the circus

and like that, you’ll be one of us!

Ha ha

ha ha

never again to frown

I have become a clown

ha ha ha

ha hah ha hahaha

hahaahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaaa

#my stories

[kiango]

Pet loss

I bought a house for him. I am in the middle of renovating a house. For my dead dog. The dog door is leaning against the patio door right now. Ready for installation. I bought a nice size house on a big lot. For him. I made sure it had a big fenced in yard. For him. I made sure it had a patio with a big sunny spot for him to roast himself on, and trees to roll in the shade. There was a pit of dirt that he immediately started to dig in. I knew he would love it.

There’s no furniture there. He watched me fix windows and skim the walls, perched attentively on a crochet blanket I made. I disassembled a play set in the back yard and he was underfoot the whole time, transfixed with the drill and circle saw, like he needed to pay attention because I was about to tag him in to finish the job.

He got to visit the house

(his house)

two times.

And then he died.

I emptied out his water bowls for the last time at the apartment.

I have only been back to the apartment to grab clothes and my work computer. I. I. I can’t go back there. I can’t go back there alone. I’ve been staying with my boyfriend. I can’t look at- I’m surrounded by his things there. His smell. His fur. His bed. Beef bones and antlers and Kongs strewn around the apartment.

My parents came down to stay in town with me to help.

They and my boyfriend were with me when the vet staff let me say goodbye to his body.

He was still a little warm. His face was so cold. I still pet his nose and ears how he liked.

He was my love. My love. My love. He was my son. He’s gone. And there’s an impossibly large yawning maw around me just swallowing me up. How can things keep happening? He’s gone.

He pulled me out of the worst part of my life. He protected me with every breath. He was stunning and beautiful and smart and perfect.

I needed a forever with him, but I got 5 years. I wanted 5 more.

My mom told me that last night she dreamed of him speaking to her. He told her to tell me to please, please talk to him. I will. I will. I promise.

I’m so. So sorry. I am so sorry I couldn’t be there with you at the end. I’d have given anything, ANYTHING to have been able to hold you as you left. I promised myself as soon as I got you I would be there. I’m unbearably sorry I couldn’t be.

But you weren’t in pain anymore. You went peacefully in your sleep. If I didn’t take you into the neurologist, you would still be gone now, but it wouldn’t have been painless. So I am so relieved I was able to give you that, at least, at the end. You deserved peace, love.

You were too tough for your own good baby. I miss you. It’s crushing, horrible waves of pain I can’t. Stand it. I need to know what took you from me. What clawed you away from me? What was it? It won’t change anything. But I have to know what happened. I’m so angry. I can’t handle this. No one can tell me what happened. The vet. The neurologist. The cardiologist. The dermatologist. No one understands what you went through. I’ll find out. I need to know.

I held you in my arms at 8 weeks old, squirming and perfect and so, so pointy. Paws too big. Eyes so big. So wonderful and new and curious. I’d give the world for you. And you’d fight the world for me. My partner. It was you and me, baby.

Rest easy. I love you forever.

[the-brainrot-central]

Headcanon's for mpreg Kira who doesn't even know he's pregnant? 👀

OOOOOHHHH GOOD ONE ANON

I’m so so so so SO very sorry it took me this long to answer but here:

For one, I think he’d notice he’s a little moodier and more aggressive than usual, probably snaps at his coworkers without meaning to and thinks “shit what’s wrong with me? I’m usually more in control of my reactions…I guess I’m just sick or vitamin deficient”

His back aches a little bit but he doesn’t think much of it

He REALLY starts to think something’s off, however, when he eats a St. Gentlemen’s sandwich and gets violently ill afterwards—-they’re his favorite! Dude doesn’t really eat much else, so he’s really upset that he’s grown averse to one of his only safe foods, not to mention it fucks with his routine too—now he’ll have to find something else to eat for every lunch.

OOOH imagine if the smell of his “girlfriends” suddenly becomes overwhelmingly strong…not the decay, but the chemically formaldehyde smell. As where he used to not mind at all, now he doesn’t bring them out of the fridge as much because the smell alone is enough to spoil his appetite and, at worst, make him throw up

One day, when he’s in the shower, he notices his belly is a little…rounder than it used to be, though not by much. He’s a little worried by this, and decides to start working out four times a week instead of two, do stomach crunches, and to cut back on sugar intake, because surely it’s just weight gain…right?

I imagine Killer Queen would somehow know before he does—it’s got this “sixth sense” almost, a sort of eerie intuition about its user; it can tell he’s contracted an illness before Kira himself even feels sick. It doesn’t know exactly that he’s pregnant, per se, but it smells something….fishy about him. His stand smells a sudden, weird shift in his hormones come about (I like to think Killer Queen has lots of cat-like traits as well as the bomb stuff—-heightened smell and hearing, aversion to loud noise, licking its paws and grooming etc).

Killer Queen starts manifesting more of its own accord and “investigating” kira—giving him the “sniff down,” like when your dog knows you’ve been out petting other animals, and it rubs its face up against his stomach sometimes, because it can feel a sort of unusual energy radiating from that zone. Kira finds it a little strange but doesn’t mind—his stand has been affectionate and physical before, so he assumes it’s just typical behavior

Eventually, after the first trimester, Killer Queen starts feeling the baby within itself, too, in a weird way—like a sort of presence in its body. Sometimes Kira will find Queen just holding its stomach gently, rubbing it back and forth, it’s head tilted curiously and it’s eyes attentive. He’s…a little weirded out by this behavior, and doesn’t really know what to make of it.

Unfortunately, he can’t really directly “communicate” with his stand (and he usually has no real need to, in the first place—it’s an extension of himself, so their thoughts and feelings are pretty in touch with eachother/similar, Killer Queen occasionally comes up with ideas kira wouldn’t have with just his brain power alone) so he’s left sort of guessing what it’s strange behavior could mean

#yoshikage kira #kira yoshikage #mpreg #jjba #jojo #jojos bizarre adventure #mpreg au #mpreg thoughts #headcanons #mpreg headcanons #anon submission #thanks anon! #lovely anon #anon ask #send anons #killer queen jjba #killer queen

[benjiscorner]

Good Mourning, Deer - a short story of grief

I see the deer before she sees me. I approach from behind. She hears me with terrified clarity, and the rapid breaths fluttering in her belly quicken as I step closer. I crush leaves and twigs, dead things, forgotten things, to get to the deer—another thing this forest will soon forget. 

“Not forgotten,” Dorian says to my muttering; I had not realized I was speaking aloud. “This dead foliage decomposes and feeds the trees, and the trees feed your lungs, and thus we’re alive to forget about the leaves in the first place.”

“What do you think she makes of the foliage?” I ask dryly. 

“It’s her whole life.”

“And her death.” I circle around her until she can see my face. I squat down and regard the Amanita phalloides near her resting head—its rigid cap vibrant against the brown and aching forest floor, ashen with torn leaves. The gills shrivel towards me in agony, curling around her bite marks. Its spotted pattern: pure white against blood red.

They both hurt each other and now they both lie down in defeat. 

I tentatively extend my arm, fingers relaxed and curled towards my palm. She doesn’t move her body, but her midnight eyes frantically roll around like she’s trying to escape her own skull, run from here, dart away from what she has done, away from my confusing pity. I imagine she used to gallop elegantly, hopping over roots and diving under branches like threading a needle with her dainty pin-legs. 

“What shall we do with her?” Dorian asks. He’s in front of me, on the other side of the deer, standing straight with his hands clasped behind his back, how he stands when he wants to feel in control. But there is nothing to control here. The deer will die. 

“What is there to do?”

“Bury her?”

“That seems unnatural. Deer don’t bury each other. She’s not a human.” 

“No, but you’re attached to her in a human way. Would it not, then, be a sign of respect to send her off in a way that we find respectable?” Dorian’s eyes fan over her body. “Or shall we take her and turn her into pillows and rugs and portion her meat—”

“How could you say that?” I snap. 

His cool eyes meet mine. “That is simply the alternate human way.” 

“Ha. No, that’s not quite it—the human way is to shoot her and take her head to mount on a wall, and leave the rest of her here, desecrated.” 

“Forgotten, as you say.”

“No,” I say quickly. “No, I won’t soon forget her.” 

“Why not?”

“I don’t know. Will you?”

“No, I don’t think so.” 

Her eyes have relaxed, round and oblique, and she watches my hand, distilled, confused. I stroke her forehead and her feverish heat sears into my palm. The warmth seeps into my skin and away from her. I watch closely because every twitch of her ear and huff of warm, sweet-smelling breath will soon be lost and irreplaceable, and there will be too much pressure to recall it perfectly, so I will remember her essence, the pointless cruelty of the exchange between her and the Amanita phalloides, and her huge, wet eyes, black as night as night dawns upon her, like death invaded her head and welled up to her eyes, and if I did as Dorian said and took her home to eat I would cut into her and blackness would spill out, it would spill all over me, and then I wouldn’t remember her breath or her fur or anything at all. 

“No,” I whisper, “it wouldn’t be right to take her. We don’t own her.”

“Besides,” Dorian says, “I doubt you’d want to eat a poisoned deer.” 

I sigh. “You miss the point.”

“I understand the point. But there are many points to be made. One is that you wouldn’t eat a poisoned deer. Another is that you wouldn’t eat this particular deer at all.” Dorian kneels down and pets her back as I pet her head. Slow, long strokes of his palm until her breathing is shallow and sparse. 

“I am glad that she won’t die alone,” Dorian utters, surprising me. He waits a moment. “If this is how it feels… I am glad we’ll have each other.” 

I’m moved. “What if I die before you?”

He plucks the mushroom and holds it before his eye, twirling it curiously. “Perhaps I would consume my own Amanita phalloides.” 

I sit in the intensity of his statement. “Is it strange that I think I will still remember her at that time? Even if I’m senile…”

“You won’t forget,” he agrees.

I glance at her still eyes, her unmoving sternum, her cheek resting against the leaves that are now burned into my memory. With my two fingers I cast her eyelids over the death that glistens there. 

“I don’t believe that she knew me in any capacity, yet I wish she did,” I say oddly. 

Dorian stands and regards her, then me, with keen and observant eyes. “I believe she did. You are the last thing she ever saw; you are all that she knows. Kindness is all that she knows.”

“All that she knew.” 

He raises an eyebrow. “And it is all that you will remember of this day.” 

We leave her there.

She will sink into the ground, soak up into the roots and help unfurl new leaves in the trees, and one day I will breathe her in.

Will I smell her sweetness? Will I simply know? Or will she linger, unknown, every day from the moment she is released in the tree’s satisfied sigh, as she circulates through our houseplants and ourselves, until she is on every surface with which we are familiar? Until she has intimately understood my blood and my lungs; until she is the icy huff from my nose on a January morning and the smoke from Dorian’s cigarette; until I gasp her in and sigh her out a hundred times? Will I know? 

Dorian says it does not matter, and I think I know what he means. 

It does not matter. 

I will not forget either way.

#writing #author #creative writing #short story #grief #dealing with grief

[levmada]

Hey Gee! Congrats on 1k! Im so happy whenever I see you on my dash 💛. For the 1k event, Im feeling of Kitty Levi (domestic?) hurt/comfort: "I'm not leaving you, [name]." Bc i cant help but hc kitty levi with abandonment issues 🥲 hope you have a good year ahead! 💛

(੭ु ›ω‹ )੭ु⁾⁾♡

omg thank you🥺i loved writing this one it's very appreciated💞sending love

content/warnings: insecure Levi, implied past abuse, domestic, hybrids+heat (kind of) (kitty levi), hurt/comfort, hyper-vigilance, some angst

wc: ~1.4k

Light from the TV casts light through the dark of the living room and across your and Levi’s faces.

His eyes are on the screen, but the screen might as well be dark, and he might as well be alone. His ears idle, twitching lazily.

It’s been one year, almost, since you’ve shared your home with him… but maybe half that since he warmed up to the idea of someone caring about him without—conditions. Someone who wants him not for a fetish, or a pet, just...

You giggle at something on the screen and he blinks out of his stupor, eyes darting around to make sense of whatever just happened.

Usually, he wouldn’t care so much.

“Levi, Do you wanna put on something different?”

“Why?”

You turn sheepish. “It doesn’t seem like you’re… having fun.”

“No,” he replies, a little too fast. “I am. Having fun.”

His stomach drops when you pause it, then push your blanket off.

For some time he’s reverted into isolating his personal space. It’s not like he is the most affectionate of his kind (he learned not to be, because owners never shared Levi’s more innocent intentions), but the distance, despite how much he craves it, is safe. He has disciplined himself to not need to rub up against you, and to not be tricked into feeling protected when you say what you say and do what you do.

“Are you okay?” A warm palm comes up and settles on his cheek, but he turns away, fluffed ears flattening.

This is bad. You got onto him a little this morning because he had been cleaning so damn much that his hands were starting to turn red, and blister. Now he is worse, acting out again.

He knows you’re not cruel, never, and he knows you know him well enough to tell when he’s stressed, but not what about. When will you hit your breaking point?

Then you reach up and pet down his low ears, and it instantly calms him so that he flinches away. His tail bristles.

“Going to bed.” Levi forces the words out and shoots up before you can say anything else.

You share a bed, but there is a guest bedroom he used to use, and has gotten into the habit of using again since he realized what day was coming up. On the first night, you peeked in and asked if he was alright, and Levi said fine, he was alright. He was fine.

He gets it, that he is neglecting giving you the attention you always give him. At least half of the reason he has been working so hard around the house is to compensate for that.

(His kind aren’t allowed… jobs, in the conventional sense, and you work hard.)

Under the duvet, his cheek pressed to a cool pillow, he curls up and feels the darkness eat at him. He doesn’t feel like anything more than a bad emotion. He has been bad, by all accounts. Bad and bad and bad.

A solid knock on the door at some point in this strange stream of time jolts him even though he wasn't sleeping.

Light from the hall darkens your visage when you peek in. “You didn’t have any dinner, want me to make you something?”

His chest twists violently, and so he rolls over to face the wall. His mouth feels like a desert.

“Not hungry,” he replies. He isn't.

“Okay.” It sounds like you're letting him down gently. “See you in the morning, baby.”

“…’night.”

The next morning, Levi wakes up early to the heat pelting off his skin, suffocated by the blankets.

With a raspy grunt he kicks them off, rolls onto his belly, and shoves his face in the rumpled pillow. He rubs his cheek into it madly, at random, for something, but in his fog he only smells detergent and faint traces of his own shampoo. A keening noise vibrates his throat.

He shoves himself up into a sit, and nudges his legs together. A grimace twists his expression.

His heat isn’t here, not quite yet, but he feels the haze in the outskirts of his mind, that faint buzzing creeping down his limbs.

Where are you? part of him whines, then remembers.

Cursing, standing, Levi manages somehow to fly through his morning routine and bolt downstairs. At this time, you won’t be awake yet, so he can make breakfast before his heat starts, and then lock himself away in the guest bedroom, or even better, a closet.

He has faced all his heats up until a year ago alone, or as alone as he could get. One more wont kill him, but it will be fucking agony.

Morning light glides over his hands as he starts up coffee for you, and then pulls out the kettle for his tea. That (so soon) is when his limbs grow languid and heavy, and he has to stop at the counter to brace himself.

A pinched sense of longing sits in his chest. He closes his eyes.

The soft, even steps descending the stairs doesn’t register until it is too late, and there you stand in the doorway, watching him with a troubled look that tugs your lips down.

His shoulders hunch. “Go away.”

You say his name full of tenderness. All you offer him is that care.

He’s already weak, weak for you, when you approach and your arms come up around his waist from behind. It is like being swallowed. What does he do?—How does he escape?

Your head drops on his shoulderblade, massaging the other side in soft motions, and he melts with a swallowed mewl. Heat is so fucking close he can taste it.

You notice. “Do you really want me to go away?”

He swallows hard. By your calf, his tail twitches, even though his ears lay flat. You take that as an answer.

“Why’re you pulling away so much, hm?” You sway gently. “You know… the bed’s been cold without you; I miss you. Tell me what I'm doing wrong, and I’d do better for you. I want you to be comfortable.”

He shifts, almost squirming. My bed has been cold, he wants to say. Make me stop.

“You haven’t been keeping track,” he manages.

“Keeping track...?”

His jaw moves helplessly as your hand follows down his spine, and massages the small of his back. He’s craving, but he doesn’t know what. An inevitable tell for his heat incoming.

What if you’re bluffing? he can't help but think, despite himself. What if the paperwork just hasn’t arrived yet, and you forgot?

His ears lay flat and firm, like downturned airplane wings. “A year. Since you’ve had me. Did you really not know that’s when you can get rid of me for free?"

The adoption program, it allows a certain trial period around the first year mark. Before that, and after, you would have to pay to get rid of him.

In the past, his owners didn’t wait that long, but you aren’t that wealthy, which he liked about you from the start. That is also what makes this terrifying.

The air is eerily still for too long. He pants and squirms harder, caught between the urge to escape and fall right into you. Are you shocked?—Or caught in the deceit?

“If you're sick of me—”

“Levi—”

“—just say that.”

“Levi.”

That tone. He freezes.

You sigh. Instead of letting him go, you squeeze him to your front and kiss his hairline, then his cheek. “What in the world made you think I was sick of you?”

His jaw locks and jams, teeth grinding from the fear-feeling up high in his chest. It’s hard to think.

“Didn’t,” he whispers.

He is so afraid, because he has never been wanted for this long. Being kissed at breakfast and indulged by buying teas, and being allowed to hold and be held after fucking.

But it has never felt that way with you, either. You make it so scary in a way he can’t get enough of.

You kiss his hair and ask, “Why’re you so afraid?”

He finds himself rendered mute, like his tongue has gone too swollen for him to say a single word. Mind blank.

He whines instead, rubbing back against you; his heat is almost on top of him now.

“Poor baby… I’m not leaving you, Levi. That's the last thing I want.”

“I…” He leans into the warm kisses pelting his neck. “What’s the first thing?”

“Your heat’s about to start,” you say into his jaw, warm fingers prodding up underneath his sweater. “What do you think?”

“Please—make me stop, just.”

“Then c’mere.” You pull on him. “Come with me.”

Enter the event here!

taglist: @ackermandick | @midtwenties-angst | @sckerman | @halloweenmedic | @katty | @jayteacups | @notgoodforlifee | @peace-for-levii | @chaotic-nick | @b-o-n-e-daddy | @levisbrat25 | @oh-my-bakura-akefia | @happybird16 | @svftackerman | @galactict3a | + link to sign up

#levi angst #levi x reader #levi fluff #levi hurt/comfort #aot hurt/comfort #levi x y/n #levi x mc #levi x you #snk #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman fluff #levi ackerman x you #aot levi #shingeki no kyoujin levi #1k.event #g.scribe

[bluiex]

Heyyyyyyy, it's me, Bloop Anon, back at it with their fake dating AU that seems to be possessed by the fluff and crack gods. Please enjoy watching cats interacting with each other bc i miss my cat gosh darn it, i just want to pet her, is that too much to ask? anyway, totally didnt based this off my own cat behaviour, no sireeeeeee

--

“Jellie, no! Come back here!”

He wasn’t quick enough, she already started to smell the cages. One cat, probably Pearl if Scar remembered how they each looked like, hissed lowly, backing into her cage. Jellie only looked at her before moving on to the next cage. 

Maui was much more curious than Pearl, poking his nose out of the cage, making Jellie hiss. They had a staring contest before Grian clapped his hands, making both of them jump and making Jellie hide under the couch.

“Well, that went well.”

Scar gaped at him.

“What do you mean that went well?”

Grian shrugged. “They didn’t try to bite each other, I count that as a success.”

Scar closed his mouth, speechless. If it weren’t for the cages, he was certain Jellie would’ve fought Maui. He was about to express such thought when Grian took out his phone from his pocket and pointed at his room.

“May I call my girlfriend?”

Scar nodded, not quite understand what was going on anymore.

Grian closed the door and Scar could hear the faint conversation. A hiss brought his attention back to the cats, who were having a standoff, Maui’s muzzle still poking out and Jellie sitting on her hide legs, not looking impress.

“Oh no,” he muttered.

He tried grabbing Jellie, but she slipped under his grasp and hid behind Pearl’s cage, much to the gray cat’s chagrin.

“Jellie, c’mere girl,” he called, putting on his baby voice and extending his hand towards her.

Jellie frowned at the hand, tapped it with her paw (her claws were out, if Scar hadn’t retracted his hand, he would’ve gotten a scratch) and walked to Maui’s cage. Scar let out an offended gasp.

“Oh, you little rapscallion! Ignoring your dear old dad like that.”

Gently, he approached her, trying to get her away from those two cats, who were probably traumatized at this point. Except maybe Maui, he looked like he was having a great time. 

“Now now, Jellie, no use to be difficult. Let’s just leave those two alone—”

Turned out, Jellie was a smart cat. She hid under the couch before he could grab her, cursing underneath his breath. He was on all four, trying to get Jellie who simply sat on all four legs, looking like your typical loaf of bread, as if she was mocking him. Knowing her, he wouldn’t be surprised if she was.

Grian came out of his room, at a very bad timing, and stopped in his tracks when his eyes landed on Scar. 

“What are you doing?”

His accent was more pronounced than usual, catching Scar off-guard. He slowly raised himself on his two legs and gave the blond man a sheepish smile. 

“Nothing,” he said innocently.

Grian crossed his arms, eyebrow raised. 

“Uh-huh. And I’m supposed to believe that?”

“Yes, actually, sometimes I like to lay on all four and just look under the couch.” He pointed at his temple. “It recalibrates my brain.”

Grian let out a frustrated sigh, shaking his head slightly. He raised his phone and shook it slightly. Scar kept his gaze on the device.

“Just called my girlfriend and we agreed to leave the cats at your place until we come back from our vacation.”

Scar perked up at that, bouncing on the ball of his feet and clapping his hands together. Grian looked at the ceiling.

“I’ll come back with their food and another litter box.” He looked around the room, inhaling sharply. “Not sure where you’re gonna put the other litter box—”

“Don’t worry, I’ll figure that part out.”

Grian quirked his eyebrow, but shrugged it off.

“I’ll still show you how to give their food, and don’t worry, they eat from the same bowl no matter how many times I tell them they each have their own bowls.”

Grian joined him, sitting on the ball of his feet, and opened the cages. His cats immediately went to greet him, purring and rubbing their face against his knees. He cooed.

“You guys be good, alright? Daddy will be back in a couple of days.”

Scar had completely forgotten to ask him when he’d be back.

“A couple of days, you say?”

Grian chuckled. “Yeah, we’ll be out for almost ten days.”

“I hope you guys have fun.”

Grian grinned at him. “Oh, we will.”

He said it as if Scar was in on the joke, if it even was a joke, except scar was never good at understanding subtext, so he simply smiled and nodded. 

Maui rubbed his face against Scar’s thigh, making him almost jump out of his spot. He tentatively scratched behind his ears and received loud purrs in return. He smiled softly, petting his ears, cheek, neck, you named it. Grian giggled.

“Aww, he likes you.”

Scar let out a laugh. “For now.”

Grian gently slapped his arm. “Don’t say that, I’m sure every cat loves you.”

Scar laughed at that. “You tell that to Jellie.”

Grian hummed and rose up, letting out a sigh. He turned his gaze to Scar, who was still petting Maui.

“Well, I’ll see you in a bit.”

Scar nodded, still in that euphoria of being chosen by a cat. Grian let out a chuckle, and left the apartment, leaving the residents none the wiser.

-- bloop anon (i am totally not projecting onto scar, what are you talking about? totally didnt make him neurodivergent coded (adhd, autism, anxiety? fuck if i know))

True and real cat behavior

I LVOE THIS AU I'M SO HAPPY YOU'VE GIVEN US MORE!!!

#bluie gets an ask poggers #long post #scarian fake dating au

[nelapanela94]

As I mentioned I'm one of my previous posts, I'll be writing a few fics about the Ackermans following the line of this fic. after Violet reunites with Levi and Reader :3

This one is Violet center ft. the coolest uncle of them all.

*

Jerking backward, he scrambles against the wall, shallow breaths stirring him up, an eerie fizz grazing every inch of his skin.

Pathetic.

The knot in his chest unravels with each assuaging breath. He pats his cheeks three times to make sure he’s not dreaming.

The bump almost unmanned him. He hopes none of his subordinates see him in such rattled state. It’d be a shame. But who wouldn’t be unsettle after facing the apparition of his dead little sister?

Icy panic ripples down his legs.

Damn it.

This is so unlike him.

He throws his head forward and massages his temples, a deranged him returns his frantic gaze from the tawny puddle at his feet.

Come on, Kenny Ackerman. Only the living are to be feared.

A mental thwack bobbles him out of the muddle of foolish thoughts.

He lets out a snort, taunting his own balderdash.

Him, appalled, hiding in an alleyway behind an old grain warehouse downtown Trost. One of those secretive streets winding through the industrial areas of the city. One of those he knows like the back of his hand, through which he stealthily moves at night, lurking for the next throat to slit.

The air simmers with the smell of mold. The chimneys of the factory spew dense clouds of ashy smoke, cloying the dazzling summer sky with noxious pollutants.

A rough hand rubs down his face. He tilts his head backward, letting out a nerve-racking groan, and closes his eyes. A sliver of sunlight cuts across his chin. His fingers lace over his stomach, and the creases on his forehead smooth down.

A revelation from beyond, a glitch between two parallel worlds, or perhaps the punishment of an almighty for the weight of his sins.

She’s dead, you moron.

Had she come to take him?

There’s no way her soul was sentenced to hell, and the golden gates would never open for him. He tugs at the collar of his shirt and sucks in a long breath. Maybe she’s come back to torment him?

He constantly replays their last meeting in his mind, agonizing over whether he had conveyed his feelings adequate enough. She bellowed at him after he suggested to interrupt her pregnancy. He was just an older brother caring for his baby sister, and for the life she was carrying in her womb, who was to be born in a piece of shit world.

Maybe his words came out too harsh.

I’m sorry I was too late… but please leave me alone.

And then, when he was to tell her the good news…

A hasty puff of air sweeps over his lips.

A sprout of a smile strokes his lips. It gladded him she ignored him. At last, that runt found a purpose in his life.

He slips a finger under his hat and scratches the crown of his head, the corners of his mouth twitch. His shoulders slump, and he lowers his head. It must be the oppressing heat playing with the strings of his mind. His shirt sticks to his back in the sappy perspiration; his face sheens, tiny veins gnarl on his cheeks like brick-red spider legs. After the shock, the temperature seems to have risen five degrees.

The reckless beating of his heart returns to its natural rhythm. His balls, that had yanked to his throat drop back to their place.

You idiot. He growls. You’re too old to believe in ghosts.

He slips his hands between his back and the wall; one knee bent, the sole of his shoe flat against the bricks. His eyes close, and a snort flees from him. The soothing breeze fondles him, quelling the clamminess on his face.

He revels on the respite.

Yet, it doesn’t last long.

A wisp of a frown creeps over his brows, deepening the lines of age on his forehead. He looks down at the black cat clawing at his leg, pricking through the fabric; its eyes, piercing gold, boring through his soul. “Oi!” He clicks his tongue and starts to believe this is all a message from the other side.

“meow.”

He reaches down to pet its head, and the furry ball rucks up its face, purring, then flops onto the floor and licks its paw, haughtiness flashing across those stripping eyes.

Kenny too furrows his eyebrows. That unfriendly face brings back old memories.

“Milo!”

A girl’s silvery voice bursts from the end of the passageway. Long, deft fingers curl on the knife handle under his jacket.

“Milo! Milo don’t cause any trouble or dad’ll kick you o—”

She stops dead on her tracks when she spots him, befuddled, as if she’d seen a ghost. But she’s the ghost that almost makes him shit on his pants. Kenny peels of the wall, squinting, recoiling himself in a defensive stance. Muscles stiffened involuntarily. Color drains from his face. His eyes bulge out, but he manages to conceal his shock in a frown.

“I’m sorry, Sr. I didn’t mean to startle you.” The teenage girl rubs the back of her head, wrinkling her face in an apologetic wince. Her fingers entwine behind her back, and she cocks her head to the side, raising a brow, blinking a couple of times. “Are you ok?”

Her squared collar white linen dress billows around her knees, the wide sleeves flare down to her elbows. On each shoulder she totes brimming jute bags, leafy greens peeking out from one. 

The raven fuzz prances to the girl, with the neck outstretched and the head held high, its tail coiled inward. Milo, or whatever the cat’s name was, rubs itself on the girl’s shin, staring with disdain at the hatted man, and he returned the gesture.

His hardened face relaxes and his shoulders flop, a healthy tan creeps back to his cheeks. She’s real, of flesh and bone, though now the uncanny resemblance puzzles him more.

She sweeps off an ebony lock of her face and tucks it behind her ear, too short to be tamed in her ponytail. Her skin complexion conveys evidence to the amount of time she spends outdoors.  

“I’m Violet,” she smiles with her eyes. “And this is Milo. I’m sorry if we caused you any trouble, sir.” She bows her head and turns around to bustle off, gingerly picking up her way long the patchy pavement, the cat following at her feet. One of the bag straps slides down her shoulder, but she jostles to the other side, hooking it back in place.

An itch; a drive. Where does it come from? He can’t tell. Nostalgia, remorse, curiosity perhaps. His legs drag him to the raven-haired girl. “Oi! Missy.” His voice is grating as if he’s gargling with gravel.

Violet flings and stops at the lug on her shoulder. “Uh?” Her face snaps to the bearded man.

“Let me get that for you.”

“Oh! It’s not–“

But he insists with a solid tug, and she sighs in defeat, letting the cord wriggle off her arm. He slings it on his shoulder, stunned by the weight, amazed that this petite girl could handle the hefty load on her own.

Something tells him not to make her angry.

“Where to?”

“The market.” She smiles.

Silence settle between the two, though not the awkward one, rather the placid one, interrupted by the clopping hooves. Violet cranes her head in both directions, making sure a horse doesn't run over her. They cross the street and hit the cobbled square. Brindled awnings whisk daintily in the soft breeze. The smell of smoky cured meats warred with the stronger odor of dried carps hanging from the racks. Vendors pop out from their booths offering free samples of fish flakes and ham. Kids laugh, scampering around, scaring the clucking chickens, and Milo joins them. Violet scrunches up her face and snuggles her nose in her elbow to stifle the pungent stench until they enter the veggie section. Rows of tables brim with colors of the seasonal produce: Bags of potatoes, crates of zucchini, cucumbers and peppers, boxes of tomatoes, piles of eggplants and squash, breads of garlic threading from the stall supports. The buzz of lively conversations hovers over. Street musicians enliven the morning.

Kenny’s hands are shoved into his pockets as he weaves through the throng gazing down. Occasionally, he sneaks a glance at her, squinting, while his brain squirts impossibilities. He shakes his head and kicks a can off the way. So many years have passed that that face is no more than a blur in his memory. The last thing he remembers about her are the cheekbones breaking through that dull, lifeless skin. Maybe, this is what she would’ve looked like if he hadn’t taken too long.

“What’s up?” asks Violet.

“Nothing. Why?” He scratches the back of his ear.

“You have a frown on your face, that’s all.”

“Well, when you reach an age, it’s all just wrinkles we can’t control over.” Smirking, he pats her head, just like he used to with certain someone. “You’re too young to worry about that stuff.”

She tilts her head up by a fraction and peers at him. “I like your hat.” She compliments him, her glinting eyes exude sincerity. “It’s really cool.”

Lifting his chin, he grins and tucks it down, “It is, isn’t it?”

“What’s your name?”

“Kenny. Just Kenny.”

“So, Kenny, just Kenny, thank you.” She blushes and looks away. “You didn’t have to bother.”

Milo catches up with them.

Kenny shakes his head and waves a hand to dismiss her.

They pass by the grains and cereals section, and something catches his attention. Violet simpers, blushing hard, wriggling her fingers timidly, and he follows the direction of her eyes. He stifles his mocking grin at the fledgling romance that sparks in the air. The boy from the bread stall, smiles back, brown curls flicking over his forehead. He wipes the back of his hand across his cheek, smearing a white strip of flour on his face.

“Only one more stop at the herbs and spices.” Violet chirps, pointing at the last stand in the row as she tries to unsuccessfully disguise her flustered cheeks with the stray lock of hair.

“Hey, Mrs. Müller.” The teenager waves as they approach.

A woman of short frame turns around. Her hair, stroked with gray and white, tied in a tight bun.  She beams, her sprained, rosy cheeks crunch her eyes into happy slivers. “My sweet girl, growing more beautiful every day.” Her pudgy hands squeeze Violet cheeks.

Her hooded eyes flick to the man, and he lifts his head, just enough, and forces a half smile. Then she looks at the girl.

“The usual?”

“The usual”

While the lady prepares the extravagant order, Violet beckons him to her height and cups a hand around her mouth, leaning to his ear. “Dad is black tea addict.” She whispers. “Maybe that's why he didn't grow up much. I’m a couple of inches taller.” She reels back and shrugs. “That’s my theory.”

Kenny’s eyebrows knit together, while his mind scrambles to tie up loose ends, But, it is the lady with the honey voice who nudges, and Violet herself the one that clears up all his questions.

“How’s Captain Levi doing? I hope he recovers soon from his injury.”

“Dad’s doing well. The doctor says he is improving sooner than anticipated.”

Dad?

A dad.

Kenny masks the brunt of the impact, and the ghost of smile slips over his lips. See Kuchel? A granddaughter. That runt didn’t waste his time.

He winces at the pinch in his arm and rubs the sting with his palm.

Coins clank in Violet’s palm. She trusts Mrs. Müller and shoves the change in one her pockets. Whoever made that dress, they were a genius.

After saying goodbye, Kenny and Violet stalks off, the bustle of the market ebbs at their backs.

Kenny pulls out his gentlemanly side and walks the young lady home. Not exactly to her door, they part ways at the end of her street. He gives back the shopping bag to the owner and before waving goodbye, he takes his hat off and plonks it on her head.

“Wh—”

“It’s a present.” He runs his fingers through his hair, furrowing at the receding line. “Tch.”

A giggle burbles out of her.

“Oi!” Her laughter levels up, and she can’t help but to slap her mouth, hunching forward, anchoring a hand on her knee for support. One eyebrow rises as he crosses his arms on his chest. “Are you making fun of this old man?”

A long breath flats her down. She shakes her head and looks at him. “You reminded me of someone.”

He massages the polished wood under his jacket. Hesitating. But he needs to know.

He fumbles for the knife hooked in his belt and draws it out. “Here. This is for you too.”

Her palms face up, her eyes round in bewilderment as he lays it on her hands.

“Kenny, I can’t take it.” Her voice quavers. She looks at it closely, K. A. carved through the wood grains. She holds the blade flat before her, catching the light in a glimmer, a speck that blotches her reflection.

“You can, and you will.”

Violet reels back, wiping off her tears with the back of her hand.

She gapes at him, tears of gratitude welling up in her eyes, her bottom lips trembling. “Thank you!” She throws herself with open arms over him in a tight hug, the blade pointing outwards to not stab him accidentally. His face warms up, and he squeezes her shoulder.

The embrace he never gave her.

“You’re so nice.” She sniffs. “Why are you doing this for a stranger?”

He shrugs. “The good deed of the day.”

With dexterity, she tosses it in the air and catches it a few times, changing the grip, holding it backhanded, the edge of the blade facing out.

Pride swarms in his chest.

He outdid me in everything. He admits.

“Look at this Milo.” Elated, she looks down to the black fur.

"Hurry up, that midget hates to wait for his tea."

Violet snaps up, but he’s already gone.

*

FOR THE NEXT ONE...

The flowery cup thuds on the table, and she wipes off her frothy mustache with her tongue.

She curls her fingers around the steamy mug, brings it to her mouth and blows off the foam before taking a sip.

She relishes in her hot cocoa, humming in delight.

“Dad.” The word still tickles in her mouth.

“uh?” Levi is sitting across the table, pouring his second serving of black tea in his favorite cup.

“You and mom…” she dithers, sucking on her lip, averting her eyes. “Don’t you love each other anymore?"

Levi's eyes pop up. The hot liquid spills over the table.

#levi #levi ackerman #attack on titan #aot #shingeki no kyojin #snk #levi attack on titan #snk levi #levi aot #levi x reader #levi x you #papa levi