fanfic blog (lads & jjk), but we get distracted. meta analysis, theories, hcs, crack taken seriously...
masterlist is still on here, no longer pinned bc I do not want anyone to feel obligated to read my fics lmfao. We can play toys regardless I prommy <3 I know they're weird and off-putting. I know they aren't well-written. I know that I have too many stories in my head and what matters most 2 me is that they are written.
you'll find a lot of disabled characters (especially reader-inserts), hurt/comfort, wound care, lots of aroace relationships, occasional smut, omegaverse stuff...
fic/fanart ideas get posted here, half the time I end up writing them, but either way you're welcome to use any. pls pls just @ me so I can see it!
no rules for the askbox. you can ask about updates, but playing w toys or at least sharing your thoughts / feelings / hopes / fears / anything about the fic in question is likely to get it updated faster. there's like 20 wips, so actually discussing one is like putting that story back in the microwave (actively rotating in my brain). plus it's fun! we can be annoying and unhinged here. it's safe. ily.
if I've shared anything that was made with AI, pls let me know and I'll remove it! but please do not engage in witch hunt behavior.
synopsis: you liked Choso from the moment you met him. he just didn't notice until someone else had set their sights on (and their dick in) you. is it too late to try - or will your relationship (or just the idea of it) with Gojo get in the way?
relationships: Choso x Reader, Gojo x Reader, Geto x Reader (multiple endings)
content: MDNI, smut and angst and fluff, fake-dating, piv sex, oral (f! + m! receiving) heavy pining, longing, idiots-in-love, (not-so) unrequited love, jealousy, break-ups and makeups, semi-public sex, hot tub sex, second-hand embarrassment, messy relationships, angst with happy endings
a/n: this was my first real fic ever lol so keep in mind it's fairly rough around the edges but I'm not a quitter so I will still finish it even if I'm not that proud lol >.<
what could go wrong when you try to cure a disease by changing your colleague's DNA? more than you might think. now it's up to you to deal with the, ah, side effects.
synopsis: so you spliced your former friend-with-benefits DNA with a few different dinosaurs, all samples courtesy of your high-paying job at the world's most innovative research lab. the good news? he's not sick anymore. the bad? there's more to worry about than just scales and teeth and a tail when a certain white-haired investor catches on to your after-hour activities with the new specimen you created - and wants a bite of you for himself
pairing: dino!Sukuna x scientist!Reader x investor!Gojo
content: mdni, angst, jurassic park au, reader is a scientist but there's not even a drop of scientific accuracy here ok, sukuna gets his DNA spliced with a dinosaur (let's not ask questions), similar to true-form sukuna (one dick and also scales and a tail), emotional hurt/comfort, slight horror elements, everyone is INSANE in this
"I have two dicks."
"This is still fixable," you tried to insist, holding your hands out helplessly as your stare refused to drift from the topic at hand. Both cocks were so hard you wondered if it hurt, the pretty pink tips swollen and leaking with pre-cum.
You blinked as they dripped onto the floor, swallowing hard as it hit you the scales by his hips had started to spread towards them.
Shit.
"Fixable?" Sukuna scoffed, and you nodded uselessly, not actually sure what the hell you were going to do from here other than make him more promises.
The horny voice you'd spent far too much time listening too lately was already crudely suggesting to give the second cock a try - for scientific purposes. To see if it could cum like the first one, if it functioned the same or if there were some fundamental differences not immediately apparent.
"What the fuck are you gonna do? Cut it off?" He hissed, demanding more answers than you currently had available.
"No," you shook your head defensively, folding your arms across your chest as you tried to wake yourself up more. "I just need more time to figure out-"
"How much time do I even have left?" He grunted, the bed creaking as he sat back down, glaring at the greedy appendages practically begging for your attention.
But he wasn't wrong.
You were running out of time.
To fix him. To fix this.
Suguru had made your lack of funding pretty fucking clear.
You probably only had one more shot before you'd be forced to either give up - or make a deal.
Sell a part of yourself to save him.
Sure, the transformations to Sukuna's body, to his DNA, might stop.
But you didn't know that.
And with this latest mutation, you were beginning to worry about the growing chance these changes might not be reversible.
Yeah, you wouldn't mind it if he permanently had two cocks to plow you into the mattress with, but you had told him you'd take care of him.
That you could handle this.
And what the hell had you accomplished?
No matter how much blood you'd drawn and tests you'd put him through, all your fixes had failed.
"Tell me," he demanded, grabbing your wrist in an attempt to make you look up at his face. "How much time do we have?"
You guessed you weren't as good at hiding your concern after all.
Even if he hadn't overheard last night's conversation, he clearly had already anticipated that this current pace, your current plan, none of it was sustainable.
"We should go to the lab," you murmured, ignoring his question as you shrugged his hand off of you and got out of the bed. Picking up last night's clothes and hurriedly putting them back on.
"You really think you're just suddenly going to find something to undo this?" He snarled, and you tried to tell yourself he was just upset.
Lashing out from the lack of control he had over himself, trying to take it back with you.
"I have to try," you hissed back.
You had been the one to do this to him. Even if he let you, he'd only done it because he believed in you.
How the hell were you supposed to betray that?
Even if he had the misfortune of being correct after you spent the entire day going over lab results again and again trying to figure out what you were missing.
Where you'd gone wrong.
Tempted to tear your hair out as you glanced up at where he was sitting rigid on a too-small chair just outside of your office, Shoko pulled up to a stool next to him as she plunged a needle into a vein.
Having four arms did make it much easier to get his blood.
"So what'd you do in your last life to deserve this?" she snickered, drawing one last vial from the crook of his elbow as Sukuna openly glared at her.
"Can't you do this?" He called out to you, noticing your stare as he clenched his jaw, irritated at your mutual coworker's mockery.
"I'm busy," you muttered, rubbing the corner of your eyes as you tried to refocus on the data in front of you.
"I'll let Yuji finish you up then," Shoko hummed, returning his disdain with a bored shrug.
Cleaning up her equipment without even looking back at him, strolling away and calling for one of your junior employees to take her place.
You had actually hired Yuji because of Sukuna, even though he barely acted like they were related in the lab, feigning ignorance whenever anyone brought up the fact they were family.
"You could've said something," Sukuna petulantly suggested, as if you weren't already asking a lot from your team just to add onto their workload to help with him.
"I'm doing my best here," you muttered, your own fuse cut short with the weight of his problems and yours on your shoulders.
You wanted to believe that if you kept doing your best, you would find the solution. That every problem had one.
"Hey, boss," Yuji chirped, peeking through the open door of your office and waving before going back to where Sukuna was sitting. A vein was already bulging across his forehead, mouth twitching down in irritation.
He tried to hold himself together, to bite back his annoyance, but when he picked up the glass of water you had left there an hour ago, all the ice melted as the condensation dripped down the side.
But the moment he lifted it off the table, it shattered.
Despite seeing it happen, you still jumped, startled at the sound.
"Shit."
Everything was falling apart.
Even the glassware.
Yuji scrambled to grab a broom, cleaning up the mess as you stared at a now half-soaked Sukuna, his dark eyes burning into you as his hand was left holding nothing in the air.
He hadn't noticed that he was even bleeding.
Shards sticking out of his skin, dripping down to his muscled thighs as all the muscles in his face tensed.
You could go over.
Help Yuji pick up the rest of the pieces and fawn over his now injured hand.
But you were at capacity.
Debating on what invasive procedure you'd have to beg him to let you do, or whether or not to give chemo a try to see if you'd treated it like a cancer, you might be able to cure him.
Worrying about what his last straw would be, the moment he decided this was too much and gave up on you.
And if that happened, where would both of you be?
"Sucks that this happened to you," Yuji frowned, leaning over your boyfriend's body to pluck out a piece of broken glass stuck in Sukuna's wrist just to earn an aggravated grunt.
"I'm aware," he sarcastically scoffed.
"Jin misses you," he muttered, and you felt a weird twinge of jealousy at their connection. At the domestic side of his life you never got to see. To be apart of.
"He's fine without me," Sukuna derisively said, once again directing his anger at the wrong person. His nephew and his brother wanted to be there for him.
You wanted to be there for him.
And he wanted nothing more than to not need any of you.
For things to go back to how they'd been before.
"At least you have her," Yuji tried to offer his best attempt at consolation, sheepishly smiling, his fingers trembling as he tried to dislodge a particularly jagged piece from Sukuna's calloused palm.
"We wouldn't even be together if it weren't for this," Sukuna retorted, sharp and snarky.
You knew he wasn't wrong.
Had thought the same thing a thousand times since then.
But it hurt a lot more hearing it from his lips.
You grimaced, getting up from your chair and walking over to the door, refusing to look at him as you shut it.
No need to hear anything else that would just hurt your feelings.
At least you would simply have invisible scars.
You'd left more than a few marks on him.
You buried your face in your hands, exhaling as you leaned forward to just rest your head on the desk, knowing what decision you were being dragged closer and closer to.
Getting your eggs harvested didn't sound particularly pleasant. Knowing that you'd have a child that was half you walking around, maybe even multiple if you agreed to Gojo's offer was not exactly a dream come true for you either.
But you owed Sukuna his life back.
Even if he decided he didn't want you in it once you gave it to him.
Besides, hadn't he been through far worse because of you?
Growing extra appendages? Claws and scales and a goddamn tail because you made the choice to use dinosaur DNA to cure him?
You hesitantly picked up the phone, bringing it up to your ear as you dialed a familiar number.
The director answered on the second ring.
"Need something down there?" Suguru slowly asked, almost as if he could sense what you were calling him for.
aaaaand w that I'm only 8 days behind on the accidental writing goal (which may resurrect the next 2 parts of obgyn Gojo's series which have not been touched in 4 months:)
after drinking the soulbloom tonic, can you learn to be a normal person outside of Shaoxi Hollow? expect: vomiting, sickfic, hurt/comfort, memoria: clearday return, MC being an idiot, kidnapping, foot stuff?? don't eat weird things, tied up in his basket
"Cabl—" you choked, coughing again as more lava erupted from your throat. At least, that was what it felt like, spilling from your lips again before you could stifle it.
There was no fiery glow until he hovered with the flame of a lamp.
"Let me see."
His words were patient. Like you hadn't let him down after being kept alive in the black baths for ten days while he searched a dangerous district for a rare tree, used its soulbloom for a cure and convinced you to drink the bitter tincture by pouring it into a flower. All that effort for this.
You were still sick. Even more pathetically so. Tired eyes were stinging, watery, difficult to see out of. Was the ground swimming, or was it a trick of the lighting?
"Breathe in deep through your nose," Caleb instructed, brushing your stray hairs away with one hand while his other crossed in front of your shoulders, a support beam to rest on as he guided your posture forward.
"Do you still feel sick? It might happen again. Try to relax while you can." He brought a clean towel to your face and wiped away the mess.
You'd always been sick. That was why he couldn't get rid of you. And if it meant staying by his side, then you'd choose to stay sick. You even tried to. Delayed the treatment that he tricked you into before it was too late.
So why were you ill now? After saying that even post-cure he would tie you up, to be placed in his basket with bundles of herbs? That sounded nice. But this was violent.
"Are you upset with me?" he patted your back as your eyes lingered on the white cloth blotted with bile. It didn't look normal.
"Why?" Chills ran down your arms, prompting you to crawl into his side.
"There is always a price. In this case, it is the lowest I could find, on your body and mind. The most difficult part was to procure and maintain its ingredients."
"What're you saying?" you poked his face, noticing starlight past the dark silhouette of dancing leaves. It was his idea to sleep outside.
"Vomiting is just a part of the process. But you'll feel better once it passes. I promise," his fourth finger interlocked with yours.
It wasn't like you had much to lose. This was gross, but if it would mean no longer waking in unbearable pain, you could handle it… There wasn't a choice.
"So? You're not saying anything."
"'m cold. You should let me play with fire." His body heat wasn't enough, and there was fabric in the way.
"We can burn stuff from this pile over here, but then it might not be dark enough for you to sleep."
"But I'm already awake." You stole his lamp and crawled toward the wood, beginning to build a fire while he stabilized the structure.
You dropped a piece, hands on the grass as more ichor fled your mouth. It burned. Your body felt sore inside, achey on the outside.
"Feel better?" Caleb rubbed your back as you coughed, arms trembling.
"I'm cold."
"Take a step back, then. We can light the fire."
He said as if he wasn't the one moving both of you to a more comfortable spot before throwing a needle, and the embers ignited. A house of fire that you'd built together heat the air.
"Come on," he tucked you back into bed. "Here's a bowl that you can throw up in. Go back to sleep."
He really did know this was going to happen. The firewood, the cut-out oval hidden beneath your pillow for puke bowl to fit under.
Should you be mad at him? You were too tired of it all to think straight. All you could manage was a glare, a pout. Not even a half-convincing scowl.
"If I told you before, then you would have worried. At least this way, you got to sleep for a couple hours."
He was losing sleep, too. Evident by the gravel in his voice that failed to smooth over completely.
You closed your eyes. He wouldn't tell you how long he stayed awake just to bring back the tonic. A ten-day trip… And books said the district he had to visit was dangerous. He lied before leaving, telling you he'd stay so you couldn't fight his real decision.
"Still restless? You've been tossing and turning for a while now. Drink this."
You eyed the small ceramic cup with suspicion.
"It'll help you sleep, and it should hurt a bit less."
The cup was warm, so you downed it in one go. He wasn't lying. It sort of numbed your throat.
"You can rest now." He took it back, fixed your hair that was messy again. "Let me guess. It's too bright?"
You hummed, "Normally it isn't…"
"You'll be more sensitive over the next few days. Until then… would you like a blindfold?"
It was like that for the following week. Impossible to sleep until he wrapped a soft folded fabric over your eyes and ears.
And every morning you woke up sick, stuttering as you sat between his legs, Caleb's chest pressed against your back as you threw up against your will. He'd whisper praises in your ear, pushing the blindfold up so it held the hair back from your face.
Sometimes you despised him for tricking you. But the alternative was death, and your motive for staying sick in the first place was to live with him for longer. So you endured it like you always did.
Caleb made you soft foods and boring soups with hardly any taste of poison. Truth be told, your tongue was sort of numb from the bile. Maybe from the medicine as well.
"Be patient." He caught your wrist before it could throw some toxic plants into the boiling pot, promising that you would regret eating them. Caleb's thumb pried your mouth open, felt along the sharp points of teeth, until he admit there was no poison on your breath. But his message was clear: leave the cooking alone. If you ate something that you weren't supposed to, he would find out.
And every day you felt a little lighter, until there was no ichor left in your lungs. For as long as you could remember, a barbed sort of rope had been tying you down from the inside out, and you hardly ever noticed until it was gone.
"Caleb, I feel weird," you whispered, four days since the last vomiting session.
"Weird how?" he asked while you helped to process herbs at a low table.
"Like… normal?" Your head tilted, not sure if that was right. "Nothing…"
"That's good. Or are you upset because you don't feel special anymore?"
It felt unfamiliar. Scarier than being out of the Hollow. Every breath you took was too big, every step too strong, and you woke up with energy. It was wrong. It was supposed to be that way. What were you supposed to do with it?
Your mouth ran ahead of your brain, uncertain if the words made sense at all.
Caleb laughed, "I told you. You'd be a normal girl, able to leave Shaoxi Hollow. Didn't you want to see the world? Or have you had enough exploring?"
You threw another herb onto the pile. It was almost finished, and you'd only begun not too long ago. It was kind of hard to recognize yourself, realizing what you'd been missing out on. That Caleb wasn't so much faster only because of his mastery, but the gap was even wider before with your weakness. Hands that were weak, that trembled, that dropped things, that failed in dexterity. You still managed then, but… Work passed by quickly now. Your paper folding was much neater. He even let you write the labels on, with legible handwriting.
The way he acted toward you didn't change. Still encouraging, teasing and teaching. He even showed you some new recipes, and they turned out okay. As long as you followed his instruction.. usually.
Sometimes you forgot your own strength. Spice jars weighed less, for example, and sometimes half would spill into the pot. That one was hard to save.
He said it wasn't only the substance that makes a poison. Preparation mattered, and so did the dose. Cooking incorrectly or adding too much of a subtle ingredient…
Were normal people so easily poisoned? How did they look after themselves? It must be exhausting to live. Or maybe those concerns were delegated to food stall owners, and not everyone had to remember such things.
Still, that weightless feeling annoyed you, like walking on air. So you'd collect heavy trinkets, wear layers in accessories. It helped a little. But they made so much noise. Caleb said it was like a little bell and you were a collared pet. So it wasn't ideal to go outside in. You stuck out enough already. There was another solution to this.
"Did someone steal my shoes to make sure that I couldn't leave her again?"
"No," you huffed.
"Oh, really? But I can see that you're wearing them." Caleb had his arms crossed with one hand on his chin. It really pissed you off sometimes. He didn't know every single thing about you. He should try harder.
Your attempt to run away clued him in. The rocks that lined his shoes, underneath your feet so they'd fit… It was more an attempt to tether yourself back to earth.
"Feeling better than before means it's easier to over-exert yourself. You should rest." He reached for your wrist and you laughed, eluding him.
The footing was awkward though, jagged edges stabbed your soles with each step, and instead of falling into Caleb you felt the ground. Fists still clenched around their own rocks, your palms felt sore at the sudden pressure, so you threw them at him before he could scold you.
He caught both stones with an agility that you might be able to match someday… maybe.
Those two rocks were the same. They fit nicely in the palms of your hands. It provided a comfort of gravity, a familiar weight that was lacking as your ailments lifted. Until you fucking fell on them.
"I know these are precious to you," he set them aside. "But show me some restraint, okay?"
You pouted, grabbing his wrist, distracted by the scent. He always smelled nice.
"Alright, you little freak," he tousled your hair, kneeling on the grass. "Now show me your feet. No? These are my shoes. So I have the final say where they go. Isn't it my turn to wear them?"
Caleb untied the ribbon that held his oversized shoes to your feet. The relief was instant, but you tried not to show it.
"How long were you walking around in these?" he glanced up at a blank face. "It was long enough to form blisters… You should stay off of your feet for a while."
"But that's boring," you complained. "I want to move around!"
Caleb cut you a look that said be serious. "How are your ankles?" His palms trailed up, feeling for a change in their range of motion or swelling. It might be a little early for that. "You're coming with me," he sighed, lifting you up before any protest.
But he offered to take you outside. On account of owing him a new pair of shoes, at least. His promise had you stop kicking up bathwater. Leaving the Hollow sounded fun. You could go on a longer trip this time. Farther away.
He actually did tie you up though. With poultices wrapped around bare feet, stuck inside his herb basket and unable to run off on your little side quests. At least being carried like that provided a reason to feel so weightless. He bought you new pastries to try, even if the red beans weren't of the jequirity variety, and you chose a new pair of shoes for him. Some of the townspeople shrunk back in fear of Caleb. Others found you to be a cute pair, and offered samples from their stalls. On lonely paths, your snake liked to climb from your sleeve onto Caleb's shoulder. It was still fond of him. The trip was going smoothly, you should be in a better mood.
The blisters were irritating. You wanted to bite them off. He caught you doing that once, amused at how numb your own bite felt. Then suddenly there was a taste of salt. It wasn't bad, just unexpected… The sack of skin on your toe was empty and broken. And then you realized what just happened. The blister popped into your mouth and you drank it.
"Did you seriously…" Caleb crossed the room, grabbed your foot to observe it for himself.
You didn't know why he zeroed in so fast. It wasn't really painful. The shock on your face was just from a sudden flavor. You looked over his shoulder, to where sunlight glazed against a small window, like looking into another world on the other side.
"Don't eat weird things," he sounded disappointed. Resolved to drain the remaining blisters himself before they could end up in your mouth. "Will you be good and leave these on for me?" he asked, securing the last bandage.
"Fine," you relented, letting him have his way.
"If I have to forbid you from your own body, then…"
"What?"
"Then I will."
"Promise?" you tilted your head, seeing how far he could be pushed.
"Just let it heal," he exhaled, and you settled under the covers.
Your stomach growled, but you weren't hungry for anything in the room. Caleb was finally dead asleep, for once in his life. You poked his face, and he didn't even mumble in coherently. You bit his arm, since it smelled good. But the taste wasn't satisfying, and it wouldn't fill your stomach.
You could find your own snacks.
He might have thought you didn't notice, but he'd bought a second pair of shoes. Thought they were hidden. Lucky for you, he wasn't the only one set on seeing past secrets. As long as he didn't wake up when you stole them from his pillowcase… Perfect.
You crept on your toes, hardly breathing until reaching the veranda. Only a thin layer of bandage was on your feet now. The shoes fit alright. Your gait adjusted as gravel and grass crunched underfoot.
Dun Prefecture was supposedly full of danger. But you were safe like a baby in Caleb's basket, bored of the clouds you loved to watch.
Foraging outside of the Hollow was more difficult. Even if you were good at recognizing plants, it was harder to tell where they might be growing. Back there, everything had its place. But they should follow the same principles anywhere… the same preference for streams or shade. The sun had already departed for the night, and starlight was obscured by moonlit clouds. Where else could you gather a sense of direction..
No sound escaped your lips before a rough hand tightly covered them. Its scent was too metallic, something else that wasn't herbal. Caleb would have said something by now. He would have thrown a needle or played a flute or something. But you were on your own. A stranger was dragging you away. Trees and streets passed by, filed away into mental notes.
Unable to scream, not well-versed in self-defense. He taught you to throw needles, but you hadn't thought to carry them…
This guy's steps were less graceful than Caleb's. Even his basket was stable, the motion fluid, while here you felt jostled around. You had to close your eyes and take a breath to recalibrate, while his uneven footsteps shifted from grass to dirt to wood, then a door creaked shut.
An even less-familiar man sniffed your hand. Gross. "No, this can't be right. You brought the wrong girl."
"No, this is the one. I'm certain. Same medicine vessel we lost before."
His supervisor sighed. "You have one hour to prove it. And send her back, unnoticed. Abducting anyone that happens to be nearest to him is just asking for a death sentence. Or worse."
You groaned, blinking around the dimly lit room. "Aren't you hungry?"
"We could fetch some red beans, I suppose…" The abductor trailed off.
"Jequirity."
"Those are poisonous." The older man deadpanned.
"See? I told you!"
"If she eats jequirity beans and survives, then I'll spare your head. Less can be said of his sentence suspending. Go."
Was it reckless to follow anyone who promised poison like a starving stray animal?
You didn't care. Caleb was sleeping and you were hungry and his basket didn't have anything that you craved. It was comfortable and it even smelled nice, but everything was so edible that it tasted of boredom. A cage.
You'd gather as much poison as possible, stuff your sleeves with it, and have a stash by the time he came for you. It was a good plan.
"This is it," you breathed, gathering black-red pearls off the plant, shoving a handful into your mouth before dropping the rest in your sleeve and reaching for more. How many days would it be until you saw them again? Caleb was your sun, but he was too strict.
"Don't fill yourself up yet," the guy muttered, detesting you.
You stuck your tongue out at him and ate more, straight off the stalk.
"So immature. How does someone like him put up with you?"
"I bet your master would say the same about you," you taunted.
"Shut up," he grabbed your ear and dragged you back to the dark room.
"Ow! That's mean. I can make you look like a liar, you know. I have no reason to spare your he—"
The building was closer than you thought.
"What's wrong? Cat got your tongue?" he kept walking.
"Wasn't that…"
At least he let go of your ear. But you were truly, hopelessly lost. Not a single familiar landmark you could actually identify. At best, the stars might be a guide. But every street looked the same to you. Your heart began to race, realizing that in a minute, you might be sold for parts. Even if you were now a failed medicine vessel, and your corpse couldn't heal anyone, you'd be long dead by the time they found that out. And why would they listen to your warnings about a failed business model? It would be dismissed as an attempt to spare your own life. There was nothing you could do to stop it. But at least the taste of those forbidden red beans still danced on your tongue. Even if it wasn't so good as you remembered.
"Quit shaking, you won't die yet. It could take five days to prove you're immune to those. "
Five days… Caleb would show up by then. And if they were really so afraid of him, then they'd want you to eat more poison, right? It could all work out in your favor. Maybe you could still run away on your own, somehow find that lodging before he wakes up…
You hit the ground, pebbles digging into your palms and knees. Disgruntled, you picked them out, catching a glimpse of your kidnapper dragged into the trees. So he finally caught up. Took long enough. Too bad you couldn't locate their hideout.
"Just how much did you…" Caleb's thumb pried your mouth open. His eyes closed at the toxic smell on your breath.
"Was I supposed to count them?"
"You're lucky I came prepared," he removed something from his belt. "Otherwise, in a few hours, your organs would be shutting down."
"What?" your brows wrinkled.
"I told you," he sighed, "You would be a normal girl who can leave the Hollow. You're not a medicine vessel anymore. You can't eat poison without the consequences."
"Oh…" Your face fell. You knew that, didn't you? Or were you too focused on the target on your back as an ingredient, a panacea, to accept the other half of that deal?
He told you before. Everything had a price. And this was yours. No more ingesting poison. To be a normal girl, you had to treat your body like one.
"Does your stomach hurt yet? It shouldn't have been that long. Your teeth marks are still there. How's your head? Been seeing anything weird?" The backs of his fingers pressed along your temple.
You shook your head, numbly pulling out fistful of grass.
Caleb sat down behind you, picking a flower and filling it with tonic. "Drink this."
You didn't fight it this time. Had caused him enough trouble already. The floral scent made up for the bitter antidote it held. And compared to the soulbloom, this wasn't so bad.
"Good," his arms wrapped around you tighter, counting heartbeats. "Stop scaring me. And if you feel sick, don't swallow it. Promise."
"I promise," you mumbled, locking pinkies as you watched rays of sunlight begin to warm the distant sky.
fuck it. jealous Zayne & Caleb & MC (you) caught in between them
Mirror Sex
mdni! I meant this as the explosion never happened, but it's vague enough to believe in Colonel Caleb. Smut, I guess, Zayne shows you how surgeons tie knots, oneshot w potential for part 2 but I like how open-ended it is! you may consider it a prompt, just @ me to be seen/shared here or link as inspired work on ao3 <3
"Have their been any changes recently?"
"No."
"You seem depressed." He stared, waiting for you to deny it.
"Just bored, Dr. Zayne. Disappointed, I guess," you sighed, kicking at the polished white floor. White light dumped onto it in slots through the blinds, sun too high in the sky.
"The purpose of an exam is not entertainment, so I'm afraid you will have to bear with it."
"Not that," you scoffed, helping yourself to a paperweight from his desk, shaking it up to watch fake snow fall within the globe. "Caleb was supposed to visit with me, but I'll have to make the trip by myself. Can't disappoint Gran…"
"Some alone time might be good for you."
"I think some travel might be recommended for your health, Dr. Zay—"
"Fine," he pinched the bridge of his nose, gold eyes shut for a moment. "I can clear my schedule."
"Really?" You kicked your feet, the heel of your boot scuffing against the floor, waiting to see if he really meant it.
"Consider yourself lucky this time."
"Okay!"
"Now sit still. Over here." Zayne gestured to the seat next to him, and put the stethoscope in his ears.
"Don't worry, you can use mine." Your head tilted with a stupid grin at the unusual shortcoming, no matter how trivial. "I am surprised though… Thought you always came prepared."
"Unfortunately, it seems my nephew's dog chewed through the bottles when I wasn't looking. Why he put them back in the bag is…"
"He must have felt bad," You giggled, handing over your own basket of toiletries.
Caleb wasn't there to lend Zayne his soap. And you'd rather give that guy the silent treatment than show that he could be replaced the next time he checked his phone.
It would screw your brain up if they both smelled the same, anyway.
So you made a point of not checking your phone, not giving Caleb the satisfaction of seeing that you'd read any of his messages. There were other things to do in Grandma's house anyway, like sorting through a musty closet and outgrown bookshelf.
The old room felt especially nostalgic when warm orange sunlight slanted through the window. It began to smell like summer nights of sorting new spoils won from the arcade…
A throat cleared as your doctor lingered by the open door, "You left this in the bathroom."
"Did I?" You tilted your head, palms pressed into the mattress behind you while Zayne held out your phone, finally crossing the threshold. His eyes traced down what you were wearing, and while his face never was expressive, there seemed to be ghosts of... disappointment.
"If you need spare clothes, you can wear mi—"
"Why? They aren't dirty," you pouted, watching the shift in dark green eyes as you grabbed his wrist instead of that nagging rectangle.
The nightgown you tried on hardly fit anymore, barely passable with buttons left undone, a slit cut up the thigh, converted to some improvised lingerie. You always did get distracted playing dress-up, instead of cleaning.
Zayne let go of your phone, the weight of his knees following as you led him onto the twin-sized mattress, testing how far he might allow this to go.
A small shock lit in your heart when he closed the distance, tasting of toothpaste and smelling of fruit-scented body wash. You kissed him back on instinct, of course, pupils blown, something ignited in your core. A cold, damp draft threatened to blow it out from the wide open bedroom door.
"You're not worried she'll…"
"The medication she's on is quite reliable. It is mainly used for insomnia, as well as— Why, are you worried?" his palm cupped your cheek, gentle and steady. No concern of being seen.
"No," you huffed, pushing Zayne down onto your bed and straddling his waist. "Sorry the bed's so small…"
His lips were too close to finish that thought, just begging yours to crash against them.
It was hungry. Neither of you shied away or warmed up with shy, light kisses. Was it really so long overdue? He should have led you on earlier, if that was the case. Ah, whatever. Blowing off steam together was perfectly fine.
"You seem upset," he pulled your head back with a handful of hair, demanding an answer before the next kiss.
That didn't mean you couldn't grind on his lap, though.
The sharp exhale through his nose had you grinning, his hands moving down to hold the motion of your hips.
You took the liberty to trace his jaw, until your hand cupped the side of his face and he fucking nuzzled it.
"You're too sweet, Doctor Zayne. I was expecting something a little…"
"What? Just a quickie before bed? Do you think this is a one-night-stand to be forgotten about when the sun rises?"
"It's whatever you want it to be," you stretched his V-neck out to the side and sucking a mark onto his shoulder.
"Hmm…. Are you asking to be punished?"
"Maybe," you pouted, moving up to leave another bruise. Still under his shirt's collar, but—
"That's too close," he whispered, covering your mouth and pushing back.
"But—"
His dick twitched, and you gave a knowing look. His eyes darted to the corner.
"You haven't seen me in the operating room. We change into scrubs. There are lockers and—"
"And it isn't professional to get laid?" You ran your fingers through the back of his hair, too short to pull. How frustrating. He should have grown it out before falling into your rather impulsive trap.
"It's not appropriate for a doctor to be in bed with his patient. People will talk if—"
"God, you're so boring," you sighed, rolling your eyes like a character in some cringe sitcom.
"So that's how it is." His demeanor changed suddenly, like a summer storm rolling in, eyes narrowed, glints of gold glowing against the dark.
Then your back was on the mattress and a single look froze you in place, no evol needed.
"Fuck," you barely whispered, watching as he picked up an old scarf you had yet to pack away and neatly folded it. Made several knots in the fabric.
"Open."
You wished he meant your legs, from the greedy drip down your thigh, but complied anyway.
The new, inanimate bulge shoved past your lips, the gag adjusted until it was securely collared around your neck. Two of his fingers just barely fit between your skin and the old scarf.
Message received, then. To hook up with Zayne, you must never speak of it. That was his deal. A little humiliation sprinkled on top, as a treat. Spit pooled in your mouth, and you swallowed it. Determined not to drool over yourself.
"Are you going to behave this time?" He was leaning over you, hair still a little damp, pointed down like knives.
"Make me," you tried to say, but it came out muffled and embarrassing and the gag was already damp.
"Since a safe word won't save you," he swatted your hand away from pulling on his waistband and grabbed it by the wrist, pretty eyes searing into yours, "We'll have to find some other solution."
It seemed that your doctor's idea of a good time involved princes-carrying you to the floor, then planting your body on all fours, in front of the full-length mirror. Far enough away from it to see his face, and not just the way that your drool soaked and dripped from his darkening knot.
Nudging your thighs apart with a knee, his breath hot on your neck, asking "Is this what you wanted?" as your head shook no, hips rocked back, begging for more.
Zayne had a lot of patience. The same couldn't be said for yourself. Trying to rile him up into snapping the last thread, giving into every pent-up desire. If he wanted your antics to be more discreet, then he shouldn't have left your hands free to drag his own knuckles through your folds. No, everything he ever did was intentional. He wanted to see how far you would go, desperate and trembling from desire. Rude.
With clothes still half-on, he'd finally given in to your antics, wet panties pulled to the side, mean thrusts into your cunt while he forced your head up, the makeshift leash wrapped around his scarred forearm and a fist in your hair. Strings of drool hung down from that wad of fabric, from your open mouth to the floor.
Your cheeks heat up and it only made you more wet, more daring, rocking your ass back until it hit his thighs.
"Is this what you wanted?" Zayne breathed, hot on the shell of your ear.
It was. And in the looking-glass, through the haze on your eyes, he looked exactly like the person you wanted to take your anger out on.
Straight dark hair brushed back where it parted on the opposite side, eyes darker too with pupils swallowing the gold glint soft in his irises, not found so easily in the reflection.
"You're bleeding."
"Huh?"
You had stopped biting your lip in attempt to not look suspicious. But all that did was uncover the blood that kept spilling.
Caleb took a small gauze pad from his backpack's side pocket and held it there before you could protest.
Did you really think he wouldn't notice?
Zayne smelled of your soap. His shirt's collar was stretched out on one side. The bed made on the living room couch had no wrinkles, folded up perfectly still in Gran's style. He could sit there with a laptop and feint work mode, but the computer was cold.
Your lips were swollen, even more than his. Beyond that, the smell was in the air. You should have opened a window. Were you even trying to hide what you'd done? A rushed change of clothes could never be enough to fool your brother.
You definitely had sex.
He didn't need to say the words. The partial turn of Caleb's head and the look in his eyes said it all too clearly.
"Don't tell anyone," you rushed.
"Why? Is it too scandalous?"
You nodded, afraid to meet his eyes.
"If scandalous behavior is on the table, then…"
"You should have been there. You weren't. Caleb, you're always gone, I can't wait for—"
You understood that he was busy, you did. But Zayne was busy too. And while he dealt with some dangerous patients, they were no match for him.
But going to work when it was inside the Deepspace Tunnel, when he might disappear or get spat out in another galaxy for you all you knew, it was too much to wait on. Hopes too easy to crush.
Caleb folded the stained gauze square in half and pressed it down again. Freezing you in place, like a statue in your own bedroom.
"So you gave up on me? Decided to fuck the closest thing that moved?" His voice was low, dancing between dangerous and hurt.
"Not exactly…" you were mumbling now, taking the gauze to hold it down yourself.
He could have let you just drink the blood. But that would keep distance between yourself and Caleb, bring the taste of Zayne's lips back onto your tongue.
"So, who brought the condom? Was it you? Or him?"
"I…"
"Or was it… unprotected?" his voice felt like a growl in your ear.
He sounded jealous. He totally was. It could work in your favor, but Zayne…
"It's better to show up late and unexpected than to give an ounce of false hope. That would be cruel. Or so I thought." Caleb continued, a hand tracing over the side of your face, where the gag had pressed in.
The skin was probably still red, but you definitely felt the indents that Zayne's bondage had left behind. Should have listened to his advice and hidden under the covers, pretended to be asleep. But it was too late for that.
The palm tightened on your neck. "What if I was the one to lock you up?"
Your breath hitched. "Is this the price of your silence?"
Caleb hummed, "It can be. Scandal for scandal, silence for silence. So, what do you think?"
