#I couldn't think of anything for them and I was really conscious of getting this out before midnight ;-;

[mieisunki]

friends?

alt: things they do that make you question their friendship

ot7 x reader warnings: none

masterlist

heeseung: calling you pet names

when you and heeseung first met, he always called you by your name. but one day that changed. you two were cooking in the kitchen when he called for you.

"hey, baby. can pass me the salt?"

you nearly broke your neck trying to see who he was talking to since it was only the two of you. once you realized he was talking to you, your quickly became embarrassed- hiding your red face in your hands. heeseung loved your reaction, so of course he started calling you every pet name he could think of whenever he had the chance.

"hey honey. can you come here?"

"what do you think of this one, sweetheart?"

"angel, what do you want to eat?"

you never thought you would get used to it- always flushing when he called you anything other than your name. but one day, he called you by your name to see your reaction. the pout you gave him nearly broke him. in fact, it did. he spent the next five minutes on the floor before he could even attempt to stand up stand up. he pulled you into his arms as he teased you even more.

"aw. i knew you liked my nicknames, angel."

the nicknames never stopped- only got worse. as did your feelings. you could only hope that he didn't do it just for your reaction. that he did it because he felt the same.

rest under the cut

jonseong: being protective of you

jay has always been overprotective of you. ever since the two of you met, it was like you had a human guard dog. you could completely shut your mind off around jay and know you were completely safe.

jay would almost always go with you when you went out in public. if you were walking on the sidewalk, he would always make sure he was on the outside. if you were crossing the street, his hand would be on your back guiding you. doors? you've never opened one when your with jay. he even buckles your seatbelt if you don't do it before he starts the car.

"jay, really?"

"your safety is my priority."

if you were confident enough to wear something revealing, he would always keep an eye for any wardrobe malfunctions. and if your confidence suddenly went away and you start feeling self conscious, jay's jacket would be draped over you before you would even realize it.

"why did you do that?"

"i could tell you were uncomfortable."

"what if you get cold?"

"then i'll buy another jacket."

when you two were at a party, and some guy would walk up to you. the guy would barely get two words in before jay was by your side, wrapping his arm around your waist and glaring at the guy. after he ran them off, he would look down at you with a soft smile.

"they weren't good enough for you."

"you always say that."

"and i'm always right."

it never occurred to you before why he did these things. it wasn't until one of your friends questioned you about these things that you started questioning them. the realization of your feelings for him hit you like a truck. you never wanted him to stop doing these things for you- and he never wanted to stop either.

jaeyun: always touching you in some way

jake is a big fan of physical touch, especially with you. having grown up together, you two were always very close. but it was after you two were grown that something shifted.

his touches got more frequent- and more intimate. he started blurring the lines of your guys friendship. at first you brushed it off, but it eventually came to a point that you couldn't anymore.

for example, you two always got asked if you were dating, even as teenagers. jake used to always speak up first, denying it which you never had any issues with. but one day he just stopped denying them. instead, he pulled you closer before thanking them with a bright smile.

"you two are such a cute couple!"

"thank you!"

or when you two had your weekly movie nights, you used to sit next to each other without touching. now jake has to be touching (or cuddling) you in some way, or he turns into a whining mess.

"you're so far away!"

"jake, i'm sitting right next to you."

"your point?"

he also now holds your hand 24/7, in public and in private, and lord help you if you pull away. he'll stand still, not even caring if it's in the middle of the sidewalk, and refuse to move until you hold his hand again.

"jake, what are you doing?"

"i can't function unless i'm holding your hand."

eventually, you started to see him in a different light. one that you hoped he saw you in as well. but until then, you would continue to power through these moments while falling more in love with your best friend- while hoping he felt the same.

sunghoon: not treating you like he does his other friends

you and sunghoon were the types of people that no one saw being friends. the two of you were complete opposites. you were summer, and he was winter. you were loud, and he was quiet. so how the two of you become good friends was a mystery.

you would be lying if you said you never had feelings for him. who wouldn't. you had already come to the acceptance that he would never feel the same way, but then one of your friends started pointing out things he would do that he didn't do for others. you brushed her off after listening to her. you didn't believe her at first, but then you started watching.

if your friend group were hanging out together, one he was always sitting by you. and then two, he jacket would always end up over your legs- even if you were wearing pants. you motioned one time to your friend next to him who was wearing a skirt.

"what about her? she's probably cold and i'm not."

"she's not my concern. you are."

if you two were ordering food, he would always ask you what you wanted before, so he could tell the waiter because he knew you didn't like to order your food. and when you've been to that place multiple times, he doesn't even ask- already knowing your order.

"what if i wanted something different?"

"you don't. you don't like change."

the final straw you friend had was when you guys visited the arcade which you did so frequently. they had just changed out the plushies in the claw machine, and you wanted one. one look from sunghoon, and he was at the machine winning you the plushie. one of the other girls asked if he could get her one as well, but he refused.

"sunghoon, why didn't you help her out?"

"didn't feel like it."

it took you a while, but you finally confronted that he does treat you differently than the rest of your friends. but that didn't mean he felt the same about you. you weren't going to say anything though because you were too scared to loose him. you would just continue being delusional and thinking that there may be a chance he likes you back.

seonwoo: always spending time with you

you and sunoo met mutually from jungwon, the two of you having grown up with each other. from the first time you and sunoo met, you two were inseparable. where one was, there was a 95% that the other was there as well.

whenever he had free time, he was over at your place. it was to a point where he didn't even ask. he just showed up, letting himself in your place with the key you gave him. he's given you enough scares to last a life time.

"sunoo! when did you get here?"

"about 10 minutes ago. that new show came out, and i want to watch it with you."

then whenever he had a schedule but still wanted to see you, you had no problem staying at the dorms. he would always beat you to the door, opening it before pulling you into a hug.

"yn! i missed you."

"you saw me yesterday though."

"and that was 24 hours too long."

and of course, the guys would always tease the two of you for spending so much time together.

"do you two ever get tired of each other?"

"do you ever get tired of breathing?"

you didn't think it was strange- the two of you spending so much time together. it wasn't until jay actually pointed out how much time the two of you spent together that you realized that you saw him more than you saw your other friends.

and then came the realization why you were so happy to spend time with him. when you spoke to your friends about it, they all teased you, telling you it was time you realized your feelings. but then came the hard part. waiting for him to realize them.

you would though. and if he didn't reciprocate your feelings and confessed to you, you would take your secret to the grave. because being around him while hiding your feelings somehow seemed easier than not having him in your life at all.

jungwon: giving you compliments

jungwon was your number one supporter, and he never let you forget it. every time he saw you, he would give you at least one compliment before you could even tell him hello.

if you got a new shirt, he would know.

"you got a new shirt?"

"i did!"

"it looks so good on you! you should wear that color more often. it really brings out the color of your eyes."

if you got a haircut, his hands would instantly be playing with it.

"you like it, won?"

"like it? i didn't think you could get any prettier, but you just love proving me wrong, don't you."

one day, he was having a rough day, so you surprised him with a homecooked meal. you had never seen him smile so big.

"i didn't know you were a chef!"

"i'm not. i followed a recipe for this."

"you're so talented! i'd eat your cooking everyday."

every time you would question him about compliments, he would tell you that someone like you deserved many compliments. so it wasn't surprising to you when you caught yourself falling for him. he was just so sweet to you in a way you noticed he wasn't like for anyone else.

you hoped one day soon he would confess he felt the same way. because if not, all of his compliments would make you loose your mind.

riki: letting you win games

you and riki first met online- playing games. so it wasn't shocking that you two played a lot in your free time. the two of you were also switching between games while trying new ones. the only disagreement came when you two couldn't decided on what to play.

"rock, paper, scissors?"

"riki, you always lose."

"i don't know what you're talking about. i never loose."

and of course, just like every other time, he played paper when you played rock. you always just thought he was horrible at the game. not that he always knew you played rock first.

then came the games you two played. every time it was 2v2, you would win at the last second. you weren't a sore winner, but you always bumped riki's shoulder with a teasing smile.

"i thought you said you were good at this game?"

"maybe i'm just having an off day."

you didn't start to question anything until you hung out with him and his friends one afternoon. of course, they wanted to play games which you were completely fine with. you and riki sat next to each other while he played everyone. he also won every single time.

"riki, you normally suck at this game."

"these guys are just worse than i am."

you then played a round with one of guys riki won against, and you lost. though when you and riki played, you won just like you always did. you were finally able to put two and two together- that he was letting you win. riki hated losing yet here he was, yet here he was loosing purposefully for you.

once you realized that, it didn't take long for your feelings for him to grow into something more. especially after the smiles he gave you every time you won. you couldn't bring yourself to say anything though. you just waited patiently-waiting for him to reveal he felt the same about you.

[the-modern-typewriter]

"You're hurt."

"I'm fine."

The ex-villain caught the hero's arm, forcing them to a halt. That at least, perhaps, was one thing that never changed. It shouldn't have comforted them - the ex-villain's lack of care for other people's potential boundaries.

Still. It did.

They couldn't remember the last time any of their friends or team had touched them so fearlessly, as if the hero wasn't an infinitely breakable thing. Just as they couldn't remember the last time their friends or team remembered that they weren't simultaneously invulnerable. Untouchable.

It was nice.

The former villain's grip was strong and firm and warm, like if the hero suddenly keeled over they wouldn't buckle with the weight of it.

The hero realised distantly that the ex-villain was saying something, eyes dark, brow furrowed.

"Hm?"

The ex-villain's lips pressed thin. "You're hurt," they said, again.

"Yeah," the hero said. "I know. It's fine."

"Hurt doesn't sound fine." The villain's teeth were gritted. "They can't be sending you out there in pain. Do they do that a lot? I'll kill them."

The hero laughed before they could help themselves.

The ex-villain's scowl deepened.

"Sorry," the hero said.

"How is that funny? Aren't you supposed to be against brutal murder?"

"Oh, yeah. No. I am. Don't kill my friends." The hero waved a hand to bat that whole idea away. "You're supposed to be reformed and all that jazz. It would look terrible on your record. People will get the wrong impression."

The ex-villain stared at them.

The hero gave their arm a gentle tug.

The villain did not let go.

"I have chronic pain," the hero said. "So it's funny."

The villain stared at them for a long moment in absolute silence.

"I'm sorry," they said, very calmly. "What?"

"Today's not a bad day for it, particularly." The hero shrugged. "But like, yeah. If I didn't do my job when I was in pain I'd like never do my job or really much of anything, so..."

"That's not funny."

"It's gotta be a little funny."

The villain was still staring at them.

"Comes with the whole being magically super flexible thing," the hero said. "It's okay."

"Every time you say 'it's fine' or 'it's okay' I become even less convinced that you are either of those things."

The hero snorted, partly to mask the way the words caught them off guard, an unexpected odd-angle blow. "Eh. Fine enough to fight. Speaking of..."

"No." The former villain's fingers flexed on their arm. "Your people know about this?"

"Obviously."

"And they're fine with it?"

"I can handle myself."

"Maybe you shouldn't have to."

The hero's ever-present cheer wobbled, just a fraction. Their throat thickened. They weren't quite sure what to say. They shrugged again, and did their best to summon a smile even brighter than before.

"I should go," they said. "Big robot to restrain before it hits the city and all that."

"Can I help?"

"Don't you have your own assignment to get to?"

"I meant with the pain."

"I mean, unless you can give me a new body."

"I can endeavour."

The hero snorted again. "It's fine, Doctor Frankenstein. Thanks."

"Is it?" The ex-villain's voice was quiet. "It doesn't have to be, you know. Not everything is."

The hero opened their mouth, then closed it. Their throat felt dry. They looked away, suddenly self-conscious in a way they'd thought they'd long since shaken off. Suddenly...

The ex-villain's fingers stroked through their hair. The hero willed themselves not to cry.

They didn't think anyone in the hero industry had ever told them it was okay not to be okay. Struggle was a part of the job, sure, but only in a very specific way. Everyone knew that heroes kept going. They got up every time they were hit and never gave up.

"Can I...can I have a hug?"

They felt silly asking, but the villain hugged them immediately and without question. Held them close like it was the most natural thing in the world.

The hero melted.

Then, they went to save the world.

[sheeezu]

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁Non-dualism , it's significance in shifting.

𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧

A little background, I am into non-dualism (hindu traditional) and in an ask I answered, I left in a small mention of non-dualism. A (singular) gatekeeper brought in their harassment train over to my inbox, I handled their first ask, but this morning they shared their valuable and corrupted braincells with me, mind you, with full hatred. They did attach a post, probably from another non-dualism gatekeeper, which I couldn't get to since I blocked the anon to preserve my energy.

It made me think.... someone supposedly following a philosophy full of love could be so.. lowly, tense, and triggered. That's not at all what non dualism is. What concerned me more, was the level of gatekeeping, I do not gatekeep. I will never gate-keep, something my whole life is devoted to (my spiritual belief) I would never deprive anyone else of them. ...if these people exist, does the shifting community really have a good, comprehensive exposure to non-dualism? . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧

⊹ ࣪ ˖Firstly, ◇what is non-dualism ◇ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ ✦ ‧₊˚ ⋅

What it is, is a quick google search away. In short words, it teaches that you're not a separate entity. You're not separate from nature, universe, any form of existence and the divine. Its the technique which involves erasing the lines of distinction, to flow energy through all. You emerge from something, it emerges from you. If you look up non-dualism it'll tell you, you're living in one reality, which wouldn't make sense because you'll ask, "wait, then where's the concept of the multiverse?" And my response is.... that reality is your consciousness. Everything is a projection of your consciousness. There has always been one, the provider of sacred energy which keeps the wheels running, that provider directly aligns with your beliefs, god, or you. (Okay don't laugh at me for this) some examples, so non-dualism can register in your brain before we move forward.

- You are the ocean, similarly the ocean, the waves, the life within, the presence of a balanced ecosystem beneath the water is you.

- you personify both change and stillness.

- this environment is a reflection of your inner self.

- the void state is a proof of your non-dual state.

- you are an eternal being but at time you represent mortality.

⋆⭒˚.⋆Therefore your identity is not defined.⋆⭒˚.⋆

(Next, something quite eye-opening if you're able to understand it; from Mandukya Upanishad)

Turīya is not that which is conscious of the internal (subjective) world, nor that which is conscious of the external (objective) world, nor that which is conscious of both, nor that which is a mass all sentiency, nor that which is simple consciousness, nor that which is insentient. (It is) unseen (by any sense organ), not related to anything, incomprehensible (by the mind), un-infer-able, unthinkable, indescribable, essentially of the nature of Consciousness constituting the Self alone, negation of all phenomena, the Peaceful, all Bliss and the Non-dual. This is what is known as the fourth (Turīya). This is the Ātman and it has to be realized.

₊⊹A gatekeeper's worst nightmare - can you uneducated, possessing a lowly caste, "stupid" (❗sarcasm intended, in response to the anon, I love you all so much please do not kill me ❗) people implement non-dualism into shifting; why yes of course. It is simply a belief. Like you believe manifestation occurs, like you believe the sun rises each morning, like you believe seasons change, nobody can steal your powers from you, and you're free to do whatever, you're limitless, and let's be real, we don't have any old monks or gurus to please here, we all want to shift.₊⊹

^᪲᪲᪲Non-dualism in shifting - the concept. ^᪲᪲᪲

When you lay down to shift; you constantly try to achieve some state, a state of being in your dr. According to non-dualism, the state has already been achieved, since you are not separate from it. Similarly, you're not separate from the version of you who has shifted; you're not distinct from your dr self, you're already well blended into the environment and atmosphere of your dr. So basically, we circle back to our pillars of shifting belief:

- "you're already in your dr, right now"

- "you shift every second"

- "shifting doesn't require effort"

- "shifting is instant"ּ

٠ ࣪⭑Non-dualism in shifting - the application ٠ ࣪⭑

(I'm going to do points since it looks cleaner)

- if non dualism resonates with you- adapt it into your day to day life, your stream of thoughts. Look at the sky, "That's me", look at the soil, "That's me", look at the liveliness of nature, "That's me", imagine a visual of you living your best life, "That's me."

- related to void or trance state, remember, the blackness behind your eyes, is you, and that blackness is the void state. And you are the void state.

- You are the knowledge; you are the wisdom you require to shift and manifest.

- You are the state of being in your dr, and you are the state of not being in your dr ... I don't know... choose what's convenient? :)

𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧

Ladies and gentlemen, that concludes it. I hope all of you all sleep enlightened and in full bliss tonight. Secondly, next time you send in an ask to challenge me, I- I will write essays to prove you wrong.

𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧

[mahmahmahmysharona]

When you and Bob have your first time…twice (pt. 2)

Bob Reynolds x Avenger Reader (Part 6/6)

*smut warning*

Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3 // Part 4 // Part 5

You and Bob managed to get past your seemingly failed attempt at sleeping together pretty quickly.

If anything, it calmed you. You knew now that it couldn't be rushed, especially for the both of you. Too much pressure and one of you might implode — and considering one of you is arguably the most powerful person in the universe, it wasn't really a risk worth taking.

So, you let it be. For exactly a week, until you were sent out on a last minute mission.

It went terribly.

The fact that they saw you coming wasn't your fault — but Ava's near-miss and subsequent injuries were.

You were supposed to be covering her. But then you got distracted trying to reload a gun, and before you knew it she was on the floor, a blade sticking out of her side because she wasn't able to ghost-out in time and you weren't paying attention to warn her.

She stayed conscious, which was a good sign, but the return back to the tower was horrific, watching Yelena switch out bloody bandages and trying to keep her awake.

You, meanwhile, were a mess. You cried when you thought nobody was looking. How could you be so stupid? You had only one purpose in life — only one thing you were really good for — and you failed at that, too. If you couldn't help protect your team, then what was the point?

Ava could read your mind, telling you, "It's okay. It's not your fault." She was even cracking jokes by the time you arrived back. You smiled and nodded, but the smile faded as soon as you helped get her down to rest and you returned to your room. When you caught yourself in the mirror, you were taken aback. You hadn't even realized the extend of your own hits. You looked like shit, which only added to your dismay.

Then, right on cue, the door creaked open. Bob. He stepped inside, just as he always did after you got back.

You were certain you'd never seen anyone else in your life make the expression he made in that moment: like their heart is climbing up through their throat.

"I heard things went bad," he said. He moved towards you, but you stepped back. You didn't want to be held right then. You didn't deserve it.

"I'm just...gonna take a shower," you told him. You didn't even wait for a response. You went into the bathroom, stripped your clothes, and stood under the water, trying to scald yourself of your misery and guilt.

What good are you?

By the time you got out and wrapped a towel around yourself, you expected Bob to have given up and returned to his own room. But when you stepped out, he was still there, sitting on a chair and playing with his fingers. Of course he wouldn't give up on you. And then you feel even worse for thinking he might have done.

"Do you want to talk about it?" he asked, standing up.

God, you thought. You don't deserve any of this. Him. Them. This job. Your eyes welled up with threatening tears, and you wiped them away before they even had a chance to fall.

"I failed to do my job, it's as simple as that," you said. "Now Ava's in for a difficult recovery, and the team won't trust me."

"Of course they will."

You shook your head. "I'm only valuable because of what I can do, not because of who I am. And now I've just proved I can't even do that. Maybe they don't even need me."

You laughed, because it was all you could bear to do. You didn't even know what you needed, what would lessen some of the burden that had been nipping at you since you stepped foot back in the tower.

But Bob did. He saw you standing there, all your well-concealed self-hatred finally coming to the surface, and there was only one way he could think to stop it in its tracks.

He reached forward and took your arm in his hand, pulling you towards him. When you reached him, he wrapped his other arm around your waist and kissed you deeply.

You stumbled a little, not expecting this, and from Bob of all people. But he had you. He always had you, and as he kissed you, you found yourself melting under his grip.

It took a lot of strength to reach up and wrap your arms around his neck, but you managed. Then you were on each other, pressed against one another as close as you could without wondering when the universe might collapse in on itself between you, right there.

He was pulling you out of your own mind, like you had done for him so many times before. It was intoxicating for you both. You wouldn't have been surprised if things had stopped there — if you had both pulled away from the edge before you'd toppled over it — but you were surprised when you suddenly felt his hand drop down to the back of your thigh, dripping the skin there through your towel.

"I need you," he said into your ear. You could feel the words slipping into you and making your spine tingle. "Can I have you now?"

"Yes." You think you said it. Maybe you didn't say anything at all. But suddenly, you felt his hand gripping the towel at your back and tearing at it, pulling it free and dropping it to the ground beside you. Jesus, was this real? You only needed to look at his eyes, which looked you up and down with almost painful reverence, to confirm that it was.

Then he was on you again, his palms dragging against your bare skin and leaving trails of goosebumps all over as he kissed you harder, faster. He moved you around to position himself on the side of the bed, using his hands to bring you to him until you stood between his knees.

He pressed his kisses against your stomach, your ribs, the mounds of your breasts, leaving you breathless and gripping onto his hair just to keep yourself upright. But that was nothing compared to what he did next, dragging his lips down to where your thighs met, where you were already wet and waiting for him.

When his tongue found you, you gasped. Despite all the things you'd done, all the chaos you'd seen, nothing had thrown you as much as the feeling of his tongue lapping at you, grabbing handfuls of your thighs and pressing you onto his mouth even more.

"Holy shit," you breathed, pulling at his shirt. You wanted it gone. You wanted him to be as exposed as you, ready for you to climb on top of him and take him in. But he wasn't letting you, instead grabbing your hands and pulling them down by your sides, holding you there.

You wondered briefly if this was still Bob. But then he loosened his grip and ran his thumb across your wrist, and you knew it was. This was just a new side of him you never even knew he had.

Honestly, Bob didn't know he had this in him either. It astounded him that at times he wasn't able to put one foot in front of the other without messing up, but now, he had you wrapped around his little finger. He hated having such little control over his own life, always at the mercy of the darkness that hid inside him. But now, he was taking control, and there wasn't anything dark or regretful about it. In fact, he thought he could have burst into a ball of light right then and there, listening to the sound of your whimpers.

"Please," you said. "I want— I want you."

When his mouth left you, you were finally able to wrestle his shirt off of him. And as he leaned back, you took the chance to press him down onto the bed and mount him, taking his face in your hands and pressing your mouth against his like it was the only oxygen in the room.

Underneath, he shifted to remove his pants, and you finally felt his hard length pressing against you. You ground down onto him, earning a moan from him into your neck. There was no rush, but you felt as though you might pass out if you didn't have him soon. You reached down and freed him from his underwear, your breath hitching in your throat as you felt him bound against your core.

He was already reaching down, positioning himself at your entrance. "Jesus," he breathed. "You're perfect."

"You couldn't bring yourself to say anything to that. What was there to say? Instead, you gently perched at the tip of him, then lowered yourself onto him, slowly.

Someone whimpered. Someone gasped. It was hard to tell anything anymore, since the only thing you could focus on was how perfectly he fit into you. How good it was to feel him in the pit of you. As you rocked yourself on top of him, rising and falling with the lift of his hips, his hands found your face and used it to lower you down to meet him.

He kissed you, your bodies grinding together in a quickening pace, desperate to get closer, deeper. But there was nowhere else to go. Nobody had ever got this close to you before, and you hoped he could tell that just by the pounding of your heart. (He had to feel that too, right?)

When you felt one of his hands slip between you both, his thumb finding your core and caressing it, you could barely stop yourself from letting out a yelp. Instead, you settled for moaning his name, and he suddenly reacted with a new urgency.

You were growing close and wanted to tell him as much, but there was no way in the world you could form any sort of words right now. Instead, you grabbed his free hand, locking your fingers together and squeezing it tight. You found the wave, finally letting out a small cry as you finished. When you came to, his hand had found the base of your throat, and he was whispering in your ear feverishly, "I'm gonna— Can I—"

"Yes, yes, please."

That was all he needed. He buried himself in you, shuddering with his final thrusts and pressing his face into your shoulder. You waited until you were fully certain he was through — and then a few moments longer to catch your breath — before lifting yourself off and settling on the bed next to him. Between you both, your hands found each other.

"You didn't break anything," you told him after a while. "What does that mean?"

You didn't look at him, but you could hear him smiling. "It means it was perfect," he said, exhausted. "Was it— good for you?"

"Of course."

Everything else — the mission, the dread, the future — that would come back to you. It would never go away. But now it was different, because you had each other. Two fucked-up peas in a pod, trying to find some grasp on reality. He was your reality now, and he was rolling over to press his lips against your cheek.

You regretted nothing.

(That's the last of this miniseries, but open to requests if anyone has ideas for Bob one-shots they want to see!)

Tag list: @purplefluffycows @i-shall-abide @avengersinitiative2012 @tatsunesworld @lovelyypythoness @yujyujj @tortilla-chips-and-allioli @thek8archive @k1ttyjuice

[thistlerock]

I think Gorgug grows up trying to take up as little space as possible.

I think that as a child, before he was all that conscious of his own decisions, he broke a lot of stuff. That's fine, small children do that and his parents have had him since he was a baby. A huge baby, especially for gnomes. A huge baby that grew into a toddler the size of his parents who's (again, normal and okay) tantrums did actual property damage because he's an orc. They were never mad at him for it, they'd never be mad at a child experiencing big emotions and not yet able to process them or understand consequences, but we know how their families reacted to that. We know that they always saw him as something that would grow up to be a threat.

I think that pretty much as soon as he develops a sense of it Gorgug starts feeling ashamed. He's ashamed of how nothing ever fits right, and of how loud he gets when he's upset, and of how the other kids in the neighbourhood (because it's a small folk neighbourhood!!) get scared of him sometimes, and of how when he has bad dreams he breaks his bed and is unable to control himself, like a baby. There was probably a time where he thought he was really clumsy and he was ashamed of that too, but by the time he turns like twelve Gorgug kind of understands that he's not more clumsy than the average kid, it's just that every time he drops something or bumps into a shelf it'll do so much more damage than if anyone else he lives around were to do the same.

(And his parents are talented tinkerers but sometimes their work is so delicate and all he ever does is wreck things. He doesn't dare touch it no matter how much they try to share this passion with him — eventually they assume he just doesn't like it and they would never force him to do something he doesn't want. Gorgug doesn't let himself discover how much he enjoys it until sophomore year. I wonder if he regrets all those years he spent fearing the possibility of ruining things and depriving himself of something he ended up loving.)

(And he was never "stupid", it's just that all he ever thought himself of was a brute so he never entertained the possibility of his own intelligence until faced with it. He didn't know he could thrive academically so it wasn't something he ever considered committing to. He literally just played bloodrush because he was good at it, not because he liked it. He just thought he had to, and he thought math is something he couldn't possibly do. Why try?)

Entering Highschool Gorgug is very shy, and he doesn't really have friends. Adults always like to blame the latter on the first, but sometimes it's the other way around and sometimes it's a vicious cycle. Sometimes you're six years old and none of the kids in your elementary school class are anything like you but you desperately try to fit in until you slip up and show them how much of a freak you are one time (I think he got mad. I think he broke a table. I think someone cried. I think maybe there was a teacher who was so much smaller than him and looked at him as if he were something to be feared. I think that in that moment he decided that he is. Or at least his rage, maybe.) and then you never get to have friends again and you shrink in on yourself and you don't understand how anyone else does it — it's not even that you're scared you just don't understand, and maybe you just want to be alone. And then a happy outspoken child grows into a shy teenager because they don't have any friends.

I think Gorgug is careful. He is so gentle and empathetic and kind and he is so careful because every time he isn't something breaks. And every time he raises his voice someone is scared of him and all he ever wants is people to not be afraid. So he hunches over, and he stands in the corner, and he scoots to the very edge of the bench so you don't have to sit too close to him, and he takes every insult to his face without fighting back lest he'll get upset and despite all his fucking efforts all it takes is one asshole to take it too far and he feels himself snap and all he wants to do is break something and hurt and twist and kill. And that scares him. He doesn't allow himself to be angry (and as wonderful as Digby and Wilma are they don't understand. They don't understand that he has to be, that he has to let it out some time.) so he bottles it up and every time it explodes out of him he doesn't know how to handle it other than to swing his axe and kill maul bite snarl kill.

But then, his adventuring party seems to not mind his rage, or his size, or his freakish strength. If anything they seem to like it, or at least respect him for it. He's never considered doing something like music before because that's for talented people and it's art and he doesn't do art because his hands are only good for destruction, not creation. Right? He does the music anyway. It's nice because there he's allowed to be angry on the drums and no one thinks it's weird.

He meets a girl that finds his rage attractive and he was scared that he'd scared her but he didn't. Ragh becomes one of his dearest friends and maybe for the first time Gorgug looks at a raging (half-)orc — all snarling and panting and bearing his teeth and twitching at any sound or scent — and doesn't find himself appalled because all he sees is someone that's fighting to keep him and his friends safe. And oh, maybe it's okay to be enraged.

I think he grows into a young man that doesn't love being angry but stops hating it too. He likes, in a way, that he gets angry over the right things, and he likes that being angry enables him to protect those he cares for. In the end his rage is a survival instinct and it's good to be alive. That leads to him, for a while, only accepting his rage as something that's fine to express in combat, and if it's outside of combat then only to his friends. There's still this need to make himself palatable, to tone himself down so everyone stays comfortable around him, but that also fades eventually.

During junior year he does finally come out of his shell enough to just express his anger the second he feels it. I think it is liberating and it's also the scariest thing he's ever done, and he went through a forest that made him confront his deepest fears already. (And that's exactly what it was. The inconvenience to his parents, the fear it strikes in others, the rejection it brings, the way it seems to reduce him to a weapon or maybe a wild animal and to some people including parts of him means he absolutely cannot be an intelligent or loveworthy person. He's always been afraid of his own rage.)

I think that if a younger Gorgug could see his older self snarl at one of his friends for making a joke about his parents' lawnmower, with his tusks fully grown out and muscle finally starting to fill out his clothes a little, so strong and so dangerous and so unashamed of it, he'd feel no relief and only horror. I think acceptance is something that feels alien to him right up until he suddenly achieves it.

[oc-brainstorms]

My strange addiction 18+

Perv!Dom!Voyeur!Kang Dae-ho x Sex addict!Fem!reader/Thanos x Reader(kinda)

This is part 1, part 2 is here!

Synopsis: SMUT! Sex addict reader finds Dae-ho jerking off to her and Thanos having sex, she makes it her mission to try him out next and Dae-ho treats her exactly how she wants to be treated wink wink

warnings: Kinda dark/swearing/mentions of death/murder/ kinda cheating?/Mentions god(in a bad way)/Voyeurism/bathroom sex/public sex/mentions of anal/smut/reader uses thanos/Dae-ho is kinda pervy/rough/non-con?dub-con?ish/unprotected sex/p in v/Oral (M receiving)/daddy kink/reader is a sex addict/horny af/reader is fucking feral/overall filth/aftercare/angst/fluff/reader has some major issues (I haven't slept so if I've forgotten anything let me know) READ AT YOUR OWN RISK

Words: 4.5K (it’s a long one)/

Unedited! there's gotta be a few mistakes in it but I wrote this instead of my dissertation and sleeping so take it for what it is I guess.

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I was never one to drink, do drugs or jump off tall things all for a little adrenaline rush-No, I was particular in my chosen addiction. Sex was always my vice. I tasted it one and couldn't get enough. It’s never really mattered to me what they look like or how good at it they were, if the thought pops into my head then it’s all I crave, like an itch that demands to be scratched. Sometimes I don’t even want it, like when a smoker who's trying to quit doesn't even think about lighting the cigarette in their mouth, it's basically a habbit.

Many interactions with vile, disgusting men and bad life choices led me right here, surrounded by people in green sweatsuits playing deadly children’s games for money. It’s not exactly where I thought I'd end up, I always thought I’d die in a ditch somewhere-discarded and used without a care in the world.

Salty sweat drops fall on my forehead from the purple-haired man thrusting to his hearts content in an out of me, grunting in my ear like he's on a mission. He’s not bad, a little too desperate and loud for my liking but hey, a fuck is a fuck. Plus he was pretty good-looking under the whole wannabe-bad-boy-rapper persona.

“You like that? hmph-So good-so so good.” He grumbles, his voice mere groans of hot breath in my ear.

“Feels so good daddy-please keep going please!” My voice was no higher than a pathetic whisper in return, becoming conscious of the creaks the bed was emitting, echoing in the empty space of the room. Thankfully many people this side had died in the previous game.

My hips were beginning to ache from the angle I’m spread to- My jaw clenching as I feel him wrap his hands behind my knees and shove them up until they hit my shoulders. The pain was easing from my hips but it did nothing for the lack of excitement I was feeling. It was a little mundane for me, stuck in missionary while he has the time of his life-but it will satisfy my needs nonetheless.

I can’t help but let my thoughts wander, craning my neck to glance over his shoulder as his pounding continued, just listening the the sounds of our skin slapping and the weak sounds of the bed frame holding us up.

My attention is suddenly drawn to a rusting from a bed on the other side of the room. Under the glow of the obnoxiously large piggy bank I can just make out a large figure, laid in bed with the covers just covering his hip. Squinting into the darkness I make out rapid movements under the covers.

Is this perv getting off to us?

I let my eyes linger for a while, feeling myself getting wetter from the idea of this stranger pleasuring himself to the sounds of us fucking. Trailing my eyes up I can just about make out his number, 388. Taking a mental note, I try to peak at his face through the darkness.

A gasp gets caught in my throat as I make eye contact with dark eyes that stare back at me. His whole face wasn't clear but I could sense his eyes burning into mine as he welcomed himself to the free porn he was witnessing.

‘So fucking wet for me.’ Thanos panted out, snapping me back to his attention. Thankfully his head was buried in my neck and he was too busy chasing his own high to notice my distraction.

Maybe I should give him a show.

I took my hands and placed them firmly on Thanos’ chest.

“Stop.” I manage to gasp out, pushing him back enough to look at his face. His cheeks are flushed and his eyes are crazy, Purple strands sticking to his forehead. His thrusts stagger a little before coming to a stop.

“What the fuck is wrong girl, why are you stopping me when I'm about to fill you up?” The tone of his voice is slightly erratic, and a little too loud-but I had new priorities than everyone else's sleep.

“I just wanna ride you Daddy, please?” Fluttering my eyelashes up at him, I knew he couldn't disagree with me, especially as I clenched myself around him.

“Fuck okay-okay.” He talks over himself, gripping at my sides to manoeuvre me on top of him.

I knock my head on the metallic grate on underneath the bunk on top of us, but don’t even stop to acknowledge the pain, I've got a new task to complete. I can’t let poor 388 go to bed unsatisfied now can I?

I reposition myself straddling him, letting my hands rest on his chest while he sinks his dick into my hole. I’m already pretty raw so it stings from the stretch, feeling him throb inside me from the sensation, a small gasp erupts from my throat.

Rocking my hips back and forth, I feel him glide in and out of me, making sure to arch my back and stick my ass out to give the best possible view to my new friend.

“Just like tha-fuck just like that.” he mutters through staggered breaths. I can feel him getting close so I need to do my best with the time I have.

In a brave move, I move my hands up from his chest and glide them up my body, stopping to grip onto my breasts and squeeze, Hard. I moan louder than necessary, but not loud enough to cause a scene.

Bouncing hard on his dick, I bring my hand to my throat and start to lightly choke myself, throwing my head back and feel my hair hit my back.

“Fuck this pussy, oh god, oh my fucking god-so good, so tight oh fuck.” I hear him groan, reaching his climax as hot spurts of cum squirt inside of me, filling me up.

I lean forward, laying my chest back down and craning my neck to glance over my shoulder. I watch how 388’s covers slowly come to a halt, a subtle shake as he finally finishes. I wish I could hear him trying to catch his breath over the snoring of the rest of the room, but ill sleep happy with the knowledge I've done my job-for now.

“You finished right, girl?” My attention is drawn back to the heavy breathing of the purple haired asshole under me, his hands still feeling up my hips and ass as I catch my breath.

“Yeah sure.” I nod, through gritted teeth, slipping him out of me and laying beside him.

“Good, gotta take care of my girl, especially when she’s being so damn good for me!” He ruffles my hair before turning over, falling asleep almost instantly.

God he has so much faith in me not to kill him in his sleep.

My mind didn't relax enough to sleep, too focused on all the ideas I had to get my way, I will seduce this man, I don’t even care if he’s ugly or horrible. Anyone that desperate to cum clearly needs my help, maybe he’ll actually make me cum.

My lord isn’t it bad I'm more focused on this than the games? well I guess it is a game of sorts… wtf is wrong with me, anyways.

I roll my eyes and try to push my thoughts away. Ignoring the sweaty body next to me, I pull my crumped clothes back onto my body and lay back down, fading off to a dreamless sleep.

----

The most irritating and mind-numbing sickly song wakes me up in the morning. That along with the bright lights is enough to make me kill someone-even outside of the game.

I’ve never been a morning person, nighttime is where all the fun happens-hell I don't even wake up till gone 2pm most days. However, this morning I have a task-find this mystery man.

I sit up in bed-taking no notice of the absence of the man next to me, and try to brush my fingers through my knotted hair, pinching my cheeks and lips to look more alive.

God did they have to give us these ugly ass outfits.

Doing the best with what I have, I tie up the top into an extreme crop and pull the joggers down lower on my hip, lazily throwing the sweatshirt on.

It'll do.

I scan my eyes around the room like a predator hunting its prey, reading everyone’s number until my eyes land on the one I'm looking for.

Bingo.

He’s tall, good looking-man bun be damned, chuckling along with something an older man is saying and a-is that bitch pregnant? Damn. He stretches, his muscles flexing as he does, almost having me salivate on myself. He doesn't even glance over here before waltzing over to to the breakfast queue.

My footsteps are fast but inconspicuous, anyone else probably would’ve thought I was just hungry- and I guess they'd be right, but not for food.

I manage to squeeze in behind him, shuffling my feet closer to his.

“You’re pretty cute for a perv.” His shoulders stiffened, glancing at me over his shoulder.

‘What?” He mutters back to me, his eyes raking over my body before returning his eyes forward.

“I thought guys who liked to watch people fuck without them knowing were balding and lived in their parents basement with food stuck to their face and a box of tissues next to them.” Ok, that was a weird thing to say- but am I wrong?

His breathing takes a sharp incline as he shuffles forward with everyone else in the line.

“I wasn't watching you.”

“It’s okay baby I'm not mad a you, was I good for you?” my voice is confident but low, closer to his ear than before because of the people joining the queue behind me. Not sure if he's really as in to public humiliation as he is into public masturbation.

“I'm sorry, okay?” he whispers, without glancing back. More of a whimper really, slut.

“I just told you I'm not mad.” Im more short in my answers-im starting to get bored from this restrictive situation. I do get bored easily.

My lips almost touch his ear as I lean in, playing dangerous.

“Should've let me know you needed it daddy, this pussy has your name all over it.” I stroke over his back as I come down, tits grazing his back.

He chuckled darkly, looking down at his shoes, before turning his body to to me, a slick smirk playing on his mouth as he leant down and met my eyes.

“Really? Because to me it looks like it has that guy’s cum all over it.”

He blinked, before turning back and continuing to follow the queue.

I don’t have an answer for that, he really got me there to be fair.

My lips form a sharp line and I feel a heat rush to my cheeks, I kept my eyes down and stayed silent. I didn't know I could still feel embarrassed by anything-but here we are. I also tried to ignore the wetness growing between my thighs at the situation, the degrading really does it for me I guess.

He grabbed breakfast from the guard before sauntering off, out of the corner of my eye I saw him silently giggling to himself as he walked away, asshole.

I picked up my pathetic little apple and grumbled, taking a harsh bite out of it. If he's playing hard to get then I guess I'm just gonna have to play harder.

----

After the games, the vibes really sucked. Thanos was loud and annoying as usual but at least he didn't let me die. That was kinda nice of him, or maybe it was the fact I promised him anal if he got me through it-but nevertheless, it good to be alive.

I spent a long time in the bathroom, making sure I looked perfect after that mess. I also scrubbed myself raw, feeling dirty after the game, and the fuck and especially after 388’s comment. The 5 minute shower I somehow convinced the guard to let me have did wonders. He did watch me the entire time-but at least I'm clean!

After we once again got voted to stay, I got bored of the repetitive conversation and laid on my bed, staring at nothing in particular.

I glanced down over my feet at the door to the bathrooms, taking notice of the tall pretty boy leaving.

I didn't think twice about it, my feet moving on their own. I had to have it out with this man- he acts like a disgusting pervert watching me fuck and suddenly he's all cocky? I don't think so.

Thankfully the guards really don't give a fuck about who goes into what bathroom. I stand outside waiting, watching for the door to open. I didn't want to enter the bathroom and catch him pooping- I may be deranged but I'm not a total freak.

He wasn't in there long, and nobody had come in or out since him. Hearing footsteps approaching the door I give a quick wink to one of the guards, Showtime.

He barely opened the door before I pushed him back inside, closing us in the empty bathroom.

“Woah.” He managed, jumping on the defence and getting ready to attack before his eyes locked on me.

“Oh its you.” he relaxed, sighing.

“You miss me?” I asked sweetly, leaning back against the door with my hand resting on the metal handle.

“It's hard to miss you when you keep showing up,” his hands moved to his hips and his face bore an amused smirk, playful.

“You upset me earlier, thought you'd wanna make it up to me.”

“By telling you the truth? if that upsets you darling then you put have a real hard time with everything else in here.”

“Listen, you-”

“No you listen,” He steps towards me, a strange dominance lurking under his voice.

“I have enough going on here without some needly little whore deciding she's important enough to start bratting out because I used her pathetic show of attention-seeking to get myself off.”

My breathing increases as he steps closer, I was not expecting that to come out of his mouth, I’m not often too stunned to speak but somehow he's done it in the two conversations I've had with him.

I stare up at him through my lashes, my mouth dropping open a little as I pant through it. God is this turning me on?

“You gonna do something about it, tough guy?” Is all I manage to conjure, coming out in a stupidly quiet voice.

“Since you seem so desperate for me I'll do you a favour and put that dirty little mouth to use shall I?” He suddenly reaches forwards and grips my hair in his hand, a sound between a moan and a sob exiting my mouth as he does.

He shoves me across the room and into a stall, pushing us both in before slamming and locking it shut behind us. His grip stayed strong in my hair.

I don't know what I thought this guy would be like, I thought he would be a sweet little perv who helps pregnant girls and laughs along with old men’s jokes and then rubs one out while watching two people fuck like animals.

“Kneel.” He demands, his grip one my hair beginning to give me a headache. I don’t move, sure I've had men be rough before but this really took me by surprise.

“You want me don't you?” He spits out, but something in his eyes seemed softer, like a shimmer of guilt washed over them.

“Yes sir.”

“Then be a good girl and show me how much you want it, down on your knees.”

My knees buckled by themselves, gripping his thigh for support I hit the dirty bathroom floor and looked up at him with wide eyes.

“You know what to do slut, I'm sure you've had enough practice.” His eyes were back to being hard now, whether it was all the emotions during the games or something else had hardened him, and he desperately needed release, and Im more than happy to help with that.

I bring my hands up to his waistband, dragging down the green joggers and his boxers down together, watching as his hard cock flung free.

“Spit on it.”

I swirled my tongue around my mouth and tried to muster all the saliva I could, bringing my lips to the tip of his dick and letting my spit slowly drip onto it.

His eyes glaze over and he leans his head back, a groan slipping through his lips.

Taking my chance, I grab his throbbing cock with my hand and slowly pump my spit all over his shaft.

“I-is that good daddy?” I manage to stutter out, hand moving up and down as I slowly trail my tongue up his tip, tasting the pre cum that's already leaking out.

What the fuck is wrong with you, get your shit together.

“You know that's good slut, you're just begging for my validation aren't you?” He chuckled again, that deep chuckle he keeps doing that sounds like he's just been told a dirty joke, amused but interested.

I ignored the degrading tone and looked back down to his cock, its big and throbbing-a lot bigger than what I'm used to, or at least than what I've had in a long time.

Nervousness seeps into my brain but I push it back, taking him into my mouth and guiding him to the back of my throat.

As my nose hits his clothe stomach, my head is whipped back by his grip on my hair, a sudden flash of pain strikes my cheek and I feel tears welling up in my eyes from the sting.

“I asked you a question slut, or are you too stupid to use your words?” The look in his eyes flashed with amusement, like he was speaking to a cute puppy who just learnt a new trick.

“Yes sir.”

“Yes what?”

“Yes sir, I want your validation.” It hurt to spit the words out, but as soon as I did my head was thrusted back onto him.

He doesn't speak for a while, just grunting softly and leaning his head back against the cubicle wall with his eyes shut, fucking his dick right to the back of my throat like I'm nothing but a fleshlight he's using. All I can do is stifle my gags and take him, my face wet with my tears and the saliva dripping down my chin.

“So.Fucking.Good.” He chokes out between thrusts.

My mind goes black with everything else other than pleasing him, nothing but the pain in my throat and the blurry vision of his body above me.

His breathing quickens and I'm sure he's about to cum, my hair now fully being ripped out by the strength of his hands tangled in it.

“What should I do?”

I look up at him and try to muster up the most confused face I can under the circumstances, managing to furrow my eyebrows.

“Should I cum…down your throat?” His thrusts begin to slow slightly as he drags out his question.

“Or on this pretty little face?” His finger drops down and traces my jaw.

“Or should I have you lift up your shirt so I can cum on those perfect tits of yours, baby?” His questions receive no answer considering my mouth was still bing invaded by his thick cock.

“No, No, I know the perfect place.” His voice is dominant and looms over me.

With a swift movement he pulls me off of him, one arm under my armpit while the other stays in its place in my hair. They glide down to my own joggers, ripping them down to the floor along with my underwear, leaving me exposed and shaking from all the sensations of my body.

His large hands find my thighs and grips onto the backs of them.

“Jump.” He orders, and of course I follow through. Before I know it I’m pinned up against the cold wall, and being forced to bounce on his solid dick that's thrusting in and out of me at a rapid pace.

My arms find his shoulders and I cling on, hiding my whimpers in the Crook of his neck as I let him use my cunt for his pleasure.

“You want me to make you cum don't you doll?” He teases.

“Ye-Yes s-sir, please sir, yes, yes, yes!” I hate how the pathetic yelps come out of my mouth but the pleasure rocking through me takes my mind away from any embarrassment.

“That other little boy couldn't do it for you could he? You need a man to make you cum don't you huh?”

“Please make me cum Daddy, I'll do anything.” my voice sounded more like broken sobs coming through my lazily parted lips, already cock drunk from this humiliating situation.

He grips my wrist tightly and drags it between my legs.

“Rub yourself, c’mon princess I know you can do it,” His sweet words hit my ears and I immediately obey, becoming a gasping, moaning mess as I rub rapid circles around my sensitive clit.

Almost immediately after I feel myself reaching my climax, my head throwing itself back as he lunges for my throat, leaving sharp hickeys down my neck.

His breathing changes and soon after he's open-mouthed kissing my neck as I feel him pump his cum up into me, the grip he has on me weakening with every moan he produces.

As he lets go of the hold he has on me I drop to the floor, knees weak after the use he put them through. Im tired, and sore and sticky, I can feel him dripping out of me and onto the disgusting toilet floor. My eyes are heavy and my face flushed, with chapped lips and baby hairs sticking with sweat to my forehead and a tangled mess behind.

As the glow of my orgasm fades I get the same sinking feeling I always get when I finish, the feeling where Im immediately disgusted and ashamed and just want to cry and try and forget that I've just made a fool out of myself for a strange man.

I bring my hands to my face and sigh deeply, still trying to catch my breath. I forget the man*-whose name I still don't know* is there. Im sure he’ll see himself out eventually.

My unravelling show of self-pity is interrupted as I feel the man crouch down next to me, silently watching me cry into my hands.

Awkward, I bet he's regretting even meeting me now.

“Hey,hey.” He coos, his voice softer than soft. He seems afraid to touch me as his fingers ghost over my arm.

I bet he's so fucking irritated god I would be.

Imagine you've just fucked someone out of pity and they start crying on the fucking floor.

“I’m just gonna clean you up okay angel?” I sniffle and stop in confused awe. Moving my hands away from my face I wipe the tears off and pull them down until my eyes are peaking through.

He keeps eye contact for a moment before reaching over and grabbing toilet paper from behind him, ripping some off he starts to clean up the mess between my legs, uttering small apologies as I hiss from the contact.

“Shh..it's okay baby, you're okay.” His words are soft and comforting as he manoeuvres my clothes back on me. His hands stop at my waist as he tries to catch my eyes, but I'm looking everywhere but his face with my half-lidded gaze.

“Can I see that pretty face again? Please baby, let me clean you up.” I nod, eyebrows still subtly furrowed in suspicion.

With the softest touch he moves my hands away from my face, taking them in one of his and using the other to gently wipe off any moisture that remained. His touch felt like a feather grazing my skin, it was nice, I've never been treated so nicely before.

He fucking hates me doesn't he, oh well what do I care, I don't care anyways.

He places a hand on my knee, not in a way that's sexual but more of a calming gesture, probably to help stop the shaking by body has absentmindedly started doing.

Everything inside me is telling me to run, push him away and go find my bed to rock myself to sleep in, but something about the kind care in his eyes and the gentle touches he's gracing me with is making me want to stay here for as long as I can.

His other hand comes up to my hair, his fingers attempting to gently remove the knots that had built up from his harsh tugs.

‘Did I hurt you, go too far?”

I shook my head.

“Why are you doing this?” I broke my silence, voice barely audible.

“Doing what, sweetness?” He glanced down at my face, his voice soft and caring with a glance of concern.

“Why are you being so nice to me?” The words left my lips with a short chuckle, not an amused, joking chuckle, but more of disbelief and confusion-like when you hear something so ridiculous you can't help but let a chuckle slip out.

I sound so fucking pathetic.

“I’m taking care of you, you deserve it.” His confusion grew, his eyebrows getting more furrowed together the more he took in the disbelief on my face.

“You don't even know me, I don't even know your name, you don't know mine.”

“I would like to.” I stopped, staring blankly at him.

“My name Is Y/N.” I mustered up, I'm sure he doesn't really care-but it would be nice to be on a first name basis with this man, at least he's being helpful.

“Beautiful name, it suits you.” He spoke without moving his head away from the focus he had on my hair.

“What's your name?”

“Dae-Ho” His fingers freed themselves and he leant forwards, placing a soft kiss to the top of my head.

“Thank you.”

“What for?” he whispered against the skin of my forehead, the coolness of his breath causing a shiver to sneak down my spine.

“For telling me your name.”

Thank you for being nice, for holding me softly, for being so sweet and kind and affectionate to someone you don't care about.

“Angel I will tell you every single thing I know if it makes you happy.” My breath hitched and all wordings fell short in my throat. His eyes were light and kind, he didn't seem at all to mind easing me through this mini meltdown.

“Why?”

“I told you, i’d like to get to know you.’ He paused, his mind seemingly somewhere else, thinking deeply about his next words.

“Would you like to sleep in my bed with me tonight? i’d like to be able to hold you now, it feels wrong to part ways after this, unless you have plans with the crayon you were sleeping with before.” The sarcasm in his voice seeps through when he speaks about Thanos, a subtle spit of jealousy perhaps mixed in with his words.

Interesting development.

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A/N: Lit havent slept and wrote this with no editing so if its ass lmk lol- also my first piece of writing on tumblr! exciting times-many ideas ahead.

[himasgod]

idk if you'll do this since it isn't rlly a "ship", but i've recently been thinking about a Player/Yuu and Reader friendship or even parental relationship!!! this is technically all inspired by an Ao3 fic where Reader is also in the ramshackle dorm because their cuz so cool and "powerful" the mirror couldn't assign them to a dorm heh, and the year after is when Yuu wakes up (game starts) making Reader a second year and House warden!!!

i think this is a rlly cool concept and wanted to see if there is anything you could add to it cuz i like ur writing ^^

preferably Male of Gn reader!! and Yuu's gender doesnt matter :))

YUU AND READER

Where Yuu arrives new to NRC, and you are in charge of protecting them

I DON'T KNOW IF I UNDERSTOOD THE CONCEPT YOU WERE REFERRING TO, but I really enjoyed writing this, I hope you like it!

The first time you meet Yuu, they’re covered in soot, half-conscious, and gripping a flaming broom like their life depends on it.

You blink. Then blink again.

“Crowley,” you say flatly, arms crossed, “you didn’t tell me you were dumping another stray into my dorm.”

The headmage laughs nervously.

“My dear, you know Ramshackle is practically made for wayward souls!”

You look down at the soot-streaked human. Their uniform is a size too big, and their eyes are wide with confusion. Grim is clinging to their leg like a plushie.

"...They’re not even from here, are they?"

“Technically, neither are you,” Crowley points out.

You don’t dignify that with a response.

That night, you patch Yuu up in the creaky lounge with what little your dorm budget allows: a med kit you bartered from Riddle, a blanket sewn by Deuce (badly), and some tea Trey taught you to brew with dandelion roots.

They keep blinking at you like you might vanish.

“So,” you say, settling onto the other dusty couch.

“You're stuck here. Got no magic. Crowley’s about as helpful as a broken cauldron.”

Yuu nods slowly.

“Then I guess you live here now.”

They blink again. “What?”

“I’m the Housewarden of Ramshackle,” you say simply. "You stick with me, follow my rules, and I’ll make sure you don’t get eaten alive.”

“Is that a figure of speech or a real threat?”

“…It’s NRC. You’ll figure it out.”

Over time, it becomes a routine.

Yuu nearly gets turned into a statue? You’re there before it happens, yanking them out of harm’s way by the back of their collar.

Grim eats too much? You carry his unconscious body bridal-style to the infirmary while threatening to gut Ace if he laughs.

Crowley forgets to give Yuu lunch money? You “borrow” some from Azul’s stash and promise to pay it back.

You’re not always warm. Not the nurturing type. But you are constant.

And when Yuu has nightmares about being stuck in a world that doesn’t want them, you're always sitting in the hallway outside their door—half-asleep, arms crossed, guarding the space like it’s sacred.

One day, after a particularly rough Spelldrive practice, Yuu brings you a flower crown they made out of wild clover.

“For your desk,” they say awkwardly. “Or... for your head. I dunno.”

You stare at it.

It’s lopsided. Messy. Falling apart a little at the end.

You kneel and let them place it on your head without a word.

Grim bursts out laughing.

“You look like a fairy princess!”

You don’t move. Don’t flinch.

“…You done?”

Grim’s wheezing.

You stand slowly. Loom over him.

Yuu smirks. “Run.”

Grim runs.

You chase him across the front lawn, crown still slipping down your head.

You never say it, but it’s obvious to anyone who visits Ramshackle:

The ghosts avoid Yuu now—not out of malice, but respect.

The dorm is cleaner, warmer, decorated with mismatched things you and Yuu both picked out.

And sometimes, when you think no one’s listening, you’ll knock on Yuu’s door before curfew just to say:

“Proud of you. Don’t let the chaos eat you. Sleep before midnight or I’m locking the windows.”

[ramblingautisticman]

So, I haven't stopped thinking about the dyslexic Wade headcannon- like at all- so here is the second part/expansive of this post!

I really like the idea of him being really insecure about it but slowly accepting it more and being more open about it.

I also wrote from my experience, and I'm not officially diagnosed don't come at me, but I struggle alot with reading and writing so yeah!

Anyway, enjoy. Please. I hope everyone likes this as much as I do!

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

It isn't that Wade can't read- or that he doesn't want to- it's more that it's a massive fucking struggle. Most of the time anyway.

He's always had trouble reading (and spelling, but he can avoid that with emojis now! How technology grows!) ever since he was a kid.

And maybe it's because he didn't grow up in a great environment, or maybe it's because he was never really encouraged, but Wade never ever mentions it. Not to anyone.

He never told anyone when he was in school that sometimes words didn't really make sense to him, and that he was behind in work because of it, not because he would sit and talk (though he did that too). He never told anyone that he preferred art over english because it was easier to understand a picture to him than it was words. He never told anyone that he struggled to spell simple words like "bakery" and "shopping" but could spell "because" and "beautiful" because of a stupid rhyme he had heard once.

It was just something he had grown up with- something he had assumed other kids dealt with- u til he got to high school. Suddenly, he was surrounded by people writing 3000 word essays like they were nothing and people reading 200 page books during lunch, all while Wade still hadn't finished a single book he owned. While Wade still struggled to understand words that weren't in a specific font or colour- something he had realised shortly after turning 10- and everyone around him could just do it. They didn't take 10 minutes to finish a page of a book. They didn't get headaches from the concentration he had to use while staring at a page trying to figure out if the word "wandering" was spelt correctly. They didn't struggle to read the teachers writing because of the cursive writing. They could all just do it and Wade had to just sit and try.

Naturally, people noticed that he would read slowly and awkwardly when they read aloud in class, or that his work always came back covered in red pen from where he had misspelled simple words. He quickly became a target for bullying. Honestly, he probably wouldn't feel as self conscious as he does if that hadn't happened. If teachers had just stepped in and helped- noticed that something was wrong- he would've gotten some help and grown up with accommodations that would've helped him succeed. But he didn't get any of that. He got bullied for reading slowly and being dumb. He got kicked and punched because he had been spotted reading a book meant for younger kids (big mistake).

Wade tried. He did. He read books as often as he could to try and make his brain click- and it never worked. He would try and spell random words- and sometimes he got them and sometimes he didnt- and eventually he gave up. Eventually he succumbed to the voice in his head telling him he was stupid and that he was just going to have to go through life suffering.

And as he got older, he figured out stuff that helped and stuff that didn't. He managed to find a few fonts that helped, a few overlays that made it easier, and a few things to remind him how to spell certain words he usually struggled with.

He also got better at hiding it. Wade would tell people he preferred calls over text. He would open birthday cards and smile at the writing even if he couldn't quiet make out what it said. He would avoid anything that involved him reading in public.

And again, not because he couldn't read, but because it might take him alittle longer than it should, and the idea people would notice made his stomach fill with anxiety, sending him right back to being that scrawny kid I high-school who got beaten up every lunch time.

All of that only got worse after his accident. Well, the cancer and the torture and the murders, but ya know.

Now people were staring at him anyway. People would look and gasp and gawk as he walked down the street or went to the store to get groceries. Everywhere he went people stared. Everywhere.

So instead of being slightly worried people would notice him focusing too hard on reading, he was fully aware people were staring at him constantly because of his skin, and he liked to avoid giving them anymore reasons to stare.

To his suprise though, moving in with Al had helped. She was the only person he had told, and she was the only person who seemed to understand, telling him about something called dyslexia and telling him that his brain just worked alittle different than his. Then proceeded to pass out after using the last of her cocaine- but the thought was still there.

And she didn't seem to mind that he read alittle slower sometimes, because she still asked him to read her mail to her, and sometimes write letters or cards. Wade would have to ask her how to spell the words, but she never seemed to get angry about it, and she always seemed to know how to spell them. Plus, if anyone noticed it wasn't spelt right, they could blame it on her being blind (how was the recipient to know this letter hadn't been writing by Al? She could probably write stuff if she wanted. She's blind, not stupid.).

When he started to gain friends and family- somehow gaining a little group of them- he didn't feel as bad about them noticing. He still didn't say anything- didn't make it obvious- but he wanted them to know he read there cards. Make sure they knew he read the group chat messages. Make sure they knew he did care (and for some reason, probably because the writer loves this headcannon, it seemed like alot of him showing his cared had to do with reading and spelling), writing them birthday cards and Christmas cards, and responding to every single message.

He found a quick way around the messages. That was easy. Emojis, memes and gifs quickly became his best friend. They were easy to dichiper most of the time, and Wade loved them, so it was a win win! He did write things too, and auto correct usually helped if he was struggling that day, but he was getting better thanks to Al and her bossing about of writing letters to her grandkids.

Writing cards took a little longer, but he spent alot of time on each one, making sure everything look neat and was spelt well. It always made him proud giving someone a card that he knew he spent so much time on, perfecting every last word.

When Logan moved in, it was a topic Wade was trying to avoid. He knew he should tell him- they were getting closer and closer each passing day- but he always felt so stupid trying to explain it. It made him feel stupid, even if he knew he wasn't. Most of the time.

Luckily, it doesn't actually come up for awhile, not until they have moved into their own place and Wade is handing Logan a birthday card with a huge grin on his face, practically bouncing on his feet.

And Logan opens it and reads it, and smirks a little because "I don't think the word awesome is spelt like that" and suddenly Wade's smile is wiped off his face.

He really had tried- maybe he didn't read the word properly off his phone or something- because Wade is taking the card and trying his best to quickly read it but can't, and he let's out a grunt of frustration because rambling at Logan apologetically. "I really tried to fucking spell everything right- I'm the idiot for fucking trying to read the word to spell it- I mean, who does that when you can't even read properly? I can re-do it- gimme like an hour and a half to go get a new card and get Al on the phone to just ask her how to spell it and then I can give you one that isn't fucked up-"

And Logan shuts him up with a small kiss to the forehead, telling him that he "likes this one just fine, has more charm" and Wade wants that to feel reassuring but it somehow doesn't, and it just makes him more annoyed.

So after a small melt down and a good cry in the shower for fucking up Logan's birthday, he explains it to Logan. Tells him about how he sometimes struggles with reading and spelling, but he really did try with the card. He really does try to read and write properly but some days it's hard and some days he can do it easier, and that he never really told anyone until he met Al. He messily rambles about everything- including the bullying- and Wade expects to be met with some laugh or ridicule. Though, this is Logan- and somehow this man loves every other part of him- so why wouldn't he love this part too?

And Logan just apologises to Wade that he made him feel bad about misspelling the word awesome- makes a joke about how it's a hard word to spell- and that Wade shouldn't have been bullied for something he couldn't help. Tells him that it's nothing to be ashamed off, and that he shouldn't let it hold him back. Tells him that if he ever needs help with spelling something he can ask Logan, that if he ever can't figure out a word that he can ask Logan, asks if there are any accommodations he uses to help him.

And Wade tells him the things that help, the things that don't, thanks him for the offer of help, and suddenly it doesn't seem so terrifying that Logan knows. Suddenly he feels better about it. Sure, Al had helped, but hearing this from Logan made him feel less afraid to hide it. Made him feel better about telling his friends so they knew.

And Logan stays true to his words. He helps him when he is struggling with a word- never jumps in a reads stuff or spells things without being asked first- and even uses some of the accommodations. He has his phone set to a font Wade can read easier, and his next birthday card is in big bold writing (Logan's writing is normally really scribbly and hard to read) and on a colour that helps him focus on the words more.

And he tells his friends and they understand, they do the same. They help if asked, they don't rush him in reading their cards or messages- Yukio starts to use more emojis and Collosus tries his best to give Wade mission debriefs in person or voice messages- and it helps him immensely. He gets more confident about his reading and writing, and he starts to work on ut even more. And yeah, he can't get rid of his dyslexia, but he can try and find new ways that help him. He can find books in safe fonts and listen to the audio book as he reads to help (Though, he does prefer listening to Logan read to him, because his voice is so smooth and gruff somehow, and he could listen to it for hours).

Wade hated that stupid part of himself for so long, but now- even if he is 47- he doesn't really mind it anymore. He makes jokes about his spelling errors or words he missreads, and he works on finding new things to help with Logan, and everything is alittle bit easier knowing he isn't going to be ridiculed and judged.

(People who said they wanted this, I hope you enjoy! @wadewnstonwilson @logictoinsanity @zerotoqueero @superbattrash @spoopderman @klszkas @ohitsthemindstuffagain @mangoob @dis-plus-fanfic-reblog-writes (tagging yall who said you wanted to read it!))

[candyexorcism]

Yandere Sim Male Rivals dealing with the, 'me, my s/o, and their 500 dollar life sized mareep plush' meme being their reality.

Characters: Osano, Amao, Kizano, Oko, Aso, Osoro, Megamo.

Contains: g/n reader, not proofread, fluff. At least five of the guys having beef with a plushie.

Osano.

"What the hell is that."

^ exact words he said when you came home with the adorable pokemon plush.

Despite his harsh words he does think the sheep is cute.

He will complain, like a lot.

"Move the damn sheep." He says loudly as he tries to get comfy in bed. You groaned slightly and moved the sheep to the other side of you. "Thank-" he stops himself as you turn your back to him! "Y/n." He calls out. You turn again to face him, bringing the Mareep to face him too. "Yes?" You ask, a grin slowly growing. "...whatever." He says turning his back to you, 'two can play that game' he thinks.

Two actually cannot play that game. In the morning you found him turned facing you, holding the Mareep tight. You snicker to yourself as you take a photo of him.

Amao.

He's not particularly the biggest fan of mareep, however, he does understand how much the plush means to you.

I'd imagine he'd try to convince you to move mareep somewhere else like, "Why don't we move Mareep to the couch so they can watch TV?"

^when that obviously didn't work. He accepted his fate.

You had just wrapped up closing the bakery for the day and headed upstairs in order to destress and enjoy the rest of your evening. You headed into your room to pick out pajamas, when you saw it. Amao carefully making the bed and placing Mareep front and center on the freshly made bed. "There!" He said with a smile. Your heart melted and you practically tackled him in a bear hug for his kindness toward Mareep.

Kizano.

He actually hates the sheep. No secret love of it or anything.

He thinks mareep is ugly and takes up too much space in bed.

It's the dead of night, you're sleeping peacefully in bed curled up with mareep. Kizano had just got home from a late night film shoot. He did his skincare routine and prepared for bed, but as he gets into bed he feels an unfamiliar lump in the bed. He tries not to make much noise as he pulls back the blanket and investigates the lump....

It's an ugly sheep?

He blinks in confusion for a few moments then simply casts the sheep aside to the ground, adjusting his body to replace the sheep's former place in your arms.

In the morning he pretends not to know of the plushie when you point out it must've fallen in the middle of the night.

"What plushie, my love?"

Bs.

Oko.

I think he'd just get depressed.

Like, I think he'd get self conscious. He really does like snuggling with you late at night, it's even better than summoning demons to him! But now all you do is snuggle Mareep.

Is he not good enough?

You only find out about his feelings towards Mareep during a late night while your a cleaning a stain off her.

"Hey.. Why don't we leave Mareep somewhere else, because she's dirty..?" Oko asks cautiously. You giggle slightly at the thought. "Nah! I'm sure I can clean her up enough!" You replied, dead set on removing the stain. "...great..." He whispers. "What was that?" You question. "I mean great! It'd be a shame if you couldn't cuddle them." He elaborates, but you know Oko, and you know when he's lying, so you decide to toy with him a little. "Well, if I couldn't get the stain off I'd just cuddle with you probably." You say 'off handedly'. "..oh so now you'd want to cuddle with me...." He mutters under his breath. You gasp finally putting the pieces together. "You're jealous of Mareep!" You exclaim loudly. His face turns flush from embarrassment, "..no." He replies turning his face away from you. A common tell of him hiding his feelings. "Well, if you are jealous of Mareep, which I know you're not, I would want you to know that I only got Mareep because I got lonely those nights you would run off to summon demons..." You confess, awkwardly looking down. "Oh, well, uhm, I'm not going out tonight.." He says and your eyes sparkle a little. "Get over here!" You say with a small smile, pushing Mareep to the side and holding Oko closely.

Aso.

LOVES THE DANG MAREEP.

He does however unintentionally abuses the Mareep. Think accidentally sitting on it, using it as a table, etc.

he says sorry to the Mareep everytime.

Throws it in the air really high that it hits the ceiling, BUT he does catch it!

It was a rare occasion where Mareep was chilling on the end of the bed while you and Aso cuddled. Right as the familiar embrace of sleep enveloped you both, a familiar thud was heard. "Aso, Aso, you kicked Mareep off the bed." You said while rubbing his shoulder to try and awaken him. He groaned "huh? Oh shoot! My bad..." He whispered, getting out of the warm bed and picking Mareep up from the floor. You giggled slight at the sight of him placing it carefully onto the bed and returning to your side.

Osoro.

Intentional Mareep abuse. Have you seen those tik toks of squishmallow girls' boyfriends beating up their squishmallows instead of just like, hugging it? Yeah that's Osoro.

HE DOESN'T HATE MAREEP THOUGH! Shockingly (heh get it) he likes the plushie.

"Osaro you're so mean! Mareep didn't do nothin' to you!" You exclaim with a gasp as he absentmindedly punches the mareep. "He's an inanimate object Y/n, he can't feel pain." Osaro replies while punching the Mareep again.

But like Kizana he is not above tossing it a side in order to cuddle with you.

Unlike Kizana he wouldn't put it on the floor but just to the side opposite of the one you're laying on.

Osaro tossed and turned in the middle of the night, to say he had a rough dream would be the least to say. He tries to move closer to you but is blocked by the giant Mareep. Grunting he grabs the Mareep and tosses it to where he was formerly laying. He wraps his arms around your waist and sighs. Now that he's in your arms his dreams seem nicer, even if that does sound silly.

Megamo.

He's a busy guy, being the heir to a mega corp, having his own passions, it's a lot on his plate. So most days he come home by the time you're already asleep.

I doubt he noticed you owned a life sized Mareep until one day...

Once again, we begin our story in the dead of night, you're tucked in, nice and warm. Meanwhile Megamo had just came in from the frigid rainstorm outside. He wasn't all too wet so he just changed clothes and headed to bed. Little did he know, the lump he was cuddling was not you.

In the morning, Megamo was face to face with a sheep's face instead of yours. To say he was a little upset would be an understatement.

He tries bribery, offering you any normal sized plushie you want.

He tries threatening saying that since you're cuddling Mareep you can't cuddle with him.

He even thinks about just throwing it out. But he knows how much it means to you. So he just silently moves it to the couch everyday, and every evening it's back on *his spot* on the bed.

He despises that damn sheep.

[geralallfandoms]

hi hi. could i request mark sloan x a reader that survived the plane crash? mark stopped fighting because lexie died, so something with him surviving bc the person he loved did so he has something to fight for would be so good. preferably w a happy ending or fluffy!! other than that up 2 u! love ur writing :)

Another requests yey🕺 omg I love the idea!! Please tell me if you like It , if it's what you expected or if you would like me to change something! I would really love to hear your opinion and if you liked it!!🫂 Tysm, I hope you enjoy it!

REQUESTS ARE OPEN!!!

°The selfish man°

TW: Blood, wounds, plane crash, death, shock, spoiler. (I hope I didn't forget anything)

Song I heard while writing this:

It all happened too soon.

From one moment to the next, laughter turned into screams, happiness into fear, tranquility into silence. In less than a few seconds the path of history had completely changed.

Most of those on that plane were unable to understand in time what had happened. In the blink of an eye, nature surrounded them.

After the great sound of the machines, after the plane fell onto the green grass, after it dragged itself along, taking with it trees and everything else in its path, silence reigned again.

While some were still unconscious, others were already aware of their surroundings.

The sky was the first thing you saw when you opened your eyes. Everything was confusing, and the ringing in your ears prevented you from hearing your surroundings, so you couldn't understand why you were in a forest.

You could see movement at your side, you slowly tilted your head to see how Christina moved things, maybe she was looking for something. You didn't know. You didn't know why you were in the woods, still sitting in an airplane seat.

"Reader! Hey! Hey- can you hear me?! React!" Christina screamed over and over again in your voice. The shock and adrenaline kept her alert and energized, but you couldn't understand her, you couldn't hear her.

After a while, you saw how she simply walked away from you and walked towards Meredith, who was sitting on the floor, a few meters away from where you were.

While everyone else seemed to be 100% sure of where they were or what had happened, you struggled to maintain consciousness.

But the darkness, the whispers telling you to stop fighting, got the better of you, and you decided to relax.

___________________________________________

You wished that the hand touching your shoulder and your face was your mother's, that she had simply come to let you know that breakfast was ready, that in a few minutes they would go to the beach to spend the day.

But when you opened your eyes, the first thing you saw were worried faces. Faces of... your friends?

"Reader...hey hey here I am...do you know who I am? Can you talk?" Dereck asked while holding your face in his hands.

"She's fucking deaf..." Christina said as she pointed to your bloody ears.

You wanted to tell them that you weren't completely deaf, that you could hear them faintly, but that the pain didn't let you think, speak.

Pain?

"We can't get her out of that chair..." The blonde girl said...Meredith?

You tried to understand what they were talking about, and why their faces looked so scared, but you just tried to relax, not panic. Although really, you were terrified of knowing what they were talking about, of looking down at where the pain was coming from.

Tears were pooling in your eyes and all you could think about was Mark. Where was he? What had happened to his seat, which was next to you. What had happened to Lexie, who was in front of you.

Minutes passed, or maybe it was hours? You didn't know. But you were conscious enough to realize that you were still in the airplane seat, with your seatbelt on, that you were in what was left of the plane, that you had an iron rod going through your stomach, that your ears hurt, that you couldn't move or feel your left leg, on the same side that the bar was, you could now tell that night had already fallen, that Meredith, Christina and Derek were near you, with a campfire.

You could now tell that Mark wasn't there. You couldn't see him anywhere.

"Ma-mark..." You said in a whisper, but loud enough for Derek to hear.

"You can't do this to her. You can't do this to your girl. Mark! You have to react. She has a fucking bar running from side to side of her body, she may not feel her legs, but she's awake. She's been awake for four hours, she's fighting. You can't leave her." Derek told Mark, who had refused to leave Lexie alone, who had died in front of him a few minutes ago.

"I can't leave her...Derek please...it's little Lexie..." He said trying not to look where you are.

"I know it's not easy but, fuck... I know you're not going to like it but someone has to tell you. She doesn't feel anything anymore, she doesn't suffer anymore, okay? You can let her rest, we'll give her a burial...Mark, it's Reader. Your Reader. She's suffering there, alone, she doesn't know what's going on, she hasn't spoken in four hours, she's disoriented and in shock...you can't do that to your girl..." Derek said before turning around and walking away.

"I'm here..." Mark said, who upon hearing your voice, quickly stood up and approached you. "My girl...you're okay, I'm with you..."

Mark had a bandage on his arm, and one on his torso. Because after thinking about what Derek had told him, he couldn't help but approach where Reader was. Because when he saw her awake, looking at the sky, calm, fighting to remain conscious, he knew he couldn't do that to her.

He knew he couldn't let himself die. He couldn't leave her alone. He knew she was fighting for him and it would be too selfish of him not to do the same

So he turned around and walked over to the others, confessed the pain in his chest and let them help him. He decided to keep fighting for her.

"A-are yo-you...oka-okay?" It was the first complete sentence you had managed to say all day.

Mark couldn't help but smile as he saw how, even in the condition you were in, you cared more about him than yourself.

"I'm fine honey...don't worry. Don't get stressed okay? I'll stay with you..." He said moving your hair from your face while his other hand slowly took yours.

"Thank you...f-for...ke-keep fighting..." You said, caressing his hand.

Mark was speechless.

"I know...I know something's not right...I-I can see it on your face..." You took a deep breath and continued. "I know you...I know th-that you are tired...but you are still here..." You said between ragged breaths, trying to ignore the pain.

"I will never be able to understand how you manage to guess everything... my sweetness, I am so sorry..." Mark said as he approached you until your foreheads were touching. "I've been selfish...but I won't leave...I promise..."

And Mark kept his promise, because days later, when rescue finally arrived, Mark was still with you, watching over your fever, your breathing, feeling every beat of your heart.

Because even though he had lost little Lexie that day, even though darkness and death had clouded his thoughts, he couldn't abandon you. And he never would again.

He never abandoned you. Not when you had to get hearing aids to hear better, or when you had to go to your therapies to regain mobility in your leg. He was always there.

And would be for the rest of his life.

°

°

°

And that's all! I hope you liked it! Remember that I'm delighted to read your opinions!!🫂

[kingkat12]

unclean (roman godfrey x reader)

WARNINGS: angst, jealousy-schemes, mentions of sex, weird biblical references lol, ANGST (ouch ouch ouch)

summary: will you ever feel clean again? this has become too much-- how are you supposed to make a decision when the people in your life are pulling you in different directions? all you can do is try not to break.

word count: 6,150 (warming y'all up for the last chapter oop)

← previous chapter | next chapter →

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･seven minutes in heaven masterlist

a/n: THANK YOU FOR 1K FOLLOWERS!! enjoy the second-to-last chapter and the calm before the absolute shitstorm;) MWAH, thank you for all your support my lovelies!!<333

"Think you'll ever be clean again?"

Roman's words echoed in my mind over and over; I realized that my answer was no.

I felt dirty.

Dirty, unclean, and filthy, all the fucking time.

The hallway was loud today, but Letha walked beside me like she was floating through a quieter world, untouched by the noise, untouched by all filth. She always had that kind of ease, that effortless grace that made people part around her without her having to ask them to. Was Letha maybe the modern equivalent of Moses? 

... That was an odd thought; certainly not one I wanted to think again.

Then again, it was either weird biblical references or thoughts about Roman. The weirder my thoughts were, the more they interfered with anything Roman-related that could bring forth a hefty blush to my cheeks, or a feeling of doom settling in my chest.

I was unclean.

And I felt like a dirty fucking whore.

I kept my head down, tugging my jacket higher over my shoulder, conscious of the way the collar barely covered the faint smudge of the hickey Roman had left on my neck from our time in the library. I did my best to conceal it this morning, but I was still terrified the blooming colors were shining through-- Letha hadn't noticed it yet, and I wanted to keep it that way. I had even tried to scrub the hickey off in the shower despite knowing it wouldn't work; I was getting desperate. I had cried, brought my hands over the marks over and over, like I was begging them to go away and disappear.

Marked.

Unclean.

Filthy.

Filthy fucking liar.

"So..." Letha started, brushing a strand of golden hair behind her ear as she smiled knowingly. Immediately, I sensed that this wasn't going to be good. "There's this guy... his name is Jack, and he told me to tell you that he's into you."

I blinked. "What?" Who?

"I also told him I'd ask if you were interested," She cast me a sideways glance, beaming at me like she was serving me the best news of the century. "I think you should be."

My stomach twisted. "Letha!--"

"Don't say no yet!" She looped her arm through mine, warm and insistent. "He's sweet. You need someone sweet!"

I didn't want someone sweet-- I wanted the devil reincarnate that haunted my every waking moment, also known as Roman Godfrey. "Jack... Wang?" I tried. "Which Jack are we talking about?"

Letha bit her lip to contain an excited giggle, squeezing my arm; "Jack Edwards!--"

"No!" The words slipped past my mouth before I could stop them. I cleared my throat, hoping to recover from my outburst. "Not him... He's one of Roman's friends. That's really fucked up."

Letha sighed; disappointment read all over her face. "You'd never have to actually like the guy," she pressed. "Just... entertain it for a little while. Give Roman a taste of his own medicine. Don't you think he deserves it, after keeping... that from you?" 

She couldn't say the word out loud in the hallway-- upir.

Because that was the reason we were in this station in the first place, the fact that Roman was a upir.

The idea of making him taste his own medicine made my stomach twist, and not entirely from disgust. I hated the thought of stooping to his level, playing some shallow game... But the image flickered unbidden through my mind; Roman's dark eyes snapping toward me across the room, his smile dropping as I lean just a little too close to some other guy, making him watch me the way I had been forced to watch him too.

I squeezed my eyes shut, shaking away the thought. "It's childish,"

"He's been childish since the day you broke up! Why should you have to be the bigger person?"

If Letha knew the real truth of what Roman had actually done after we broke up, she'd have a heart attack. There was no way in hell I'd tell her about what happened in the library some days ago. My heart thudded unevenly in my chest; maybe I was being the bigger person because I wanted to be? Because I still loved him, even though I hated him for everything he had done to me, even though he had been a upir all along. Despite my attempts at staying calm and neutral, Roman's voice echoed in my head, images of him curling his fingers inside me with that evil smirk on his face flashing before my eyes; "Think you'll ever be clean of me again?"

Never.

Never.

Letha watched me disassociate and shudder, and her eyes gleamed like she already knew she had me hooked. "This will help you get over him, y'know? I only want what's best for you,"

I exhaled slowly through my nose, fingers curling into fists. It was a terrible idea-- reckless, messy, everything I wasn't supposed to want. But God, how I wanted him to hurt too, for all the lies, all the girls, and for the pathetic mess he had made of me in the library.

Maybe this would scrub me clean of the mess we'd made?

My silence was enough of an answer for Letha. Her smile turned smug as she leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms. "There ya go,"

I shot her a glare, but she only giggled under her breath; "It's perfect," she purred, voice teasing. "It'll drive him crazy!--"

"Shouldn't you maybe be a little more worried about your own life?" I snapped. "Why are you so obsessed with mine?"

It took me a second to realize what I had just said. My eyes widened at the same time as Letha's, and her hook around my arm lessened. Oddly enough, there was something satisfactory about seeing her like this-- I had no idea what came over me when I continued; "Instead of setting me up with more guys, why can't we talk about who you're fucking?"

"No one!" Letha huffed, retracting her arm. "What's come over you?!"

The more I watched her bewildered and offended expression, the more I wanted to dig my thumbs into her eyes and split her skull open; that way, I could maybe finally get to see what she was plotting in there. "Don't you have anyone running around you? You always do,"

"Not--" Letha cleared her throat, attempting to save face. "Not recently, no."

"Are you sure?"

"I-- Seriously, I don't get you!" Letha stopped walking in the middle of the hallway, staring back at me in disbelief. "I'm trying to be nice and keep you distracted, and this is how you repay me?"

I placed myself in front of her, folding my arms over my chest. "Why are you getting so defensive?" It felt like I had found an odd rope in the forest, and I was pulling at it with all my might-- I had struck gold, hadn't I? 

Letha's lips parted, wanting to argue, but nothing came out. A shadow flickered over her face-- too quick, too subtle, but I caught it. There was something there. For a moment, I thought she might actually tell me. But then, just as quickly, she smoothed out her features, letting out a soft, breathy laugh like I'd said something ridiculous; "You're impossible," she muttered, shaking her head.

I cocked a brow. "I'm... impossible?"

"You're just lashing out because you don't want to admit I'm right," she teased, looping her arm back through mine like I hadn't just cornered her. "But I get it. It's scary, right? The idea of actually moving on?"

My pulse stuttered. I opened my mouth to push again, because I knew I was right, I could feel it-- but Letha was already moving, already steering the conversation back onto safer ground.

She gave me time to let her words sink in, studying my face with that keen, knowing gaze, like she was waiting for me to break.

"Letha--"

"I just want you to be happy," Letha murmured, reaching forward to put her hand on my shoulder with an earnest touch. "And I know you won't be if you keep waiting for Roman to change."

If only she knew I wasn't waiting for him to change-- I was waiting for the end of the week, when I hoped my answer would come stumbling into my mind with no effort at all. However, it was such a clean, practiced shift in her tone, that for a second, I doubted myself; had I really imagined that flicker of something in her eyes? Was I reading too much into this?

Letha wasn't the enemy here.

She was my friend.

... Right?

"I have to go," she eventually said, giving me a final squeeze before slipping away. "But think about it, okay? Being seen with a friend of Roman would fry his crazy nympho brain." Letha didn't wait for a response-- Letha Godfrey never waited for anyone. She was already blending back into the flow of students, graceful as ever, like she hadn't just left a rock lodged in my throat.

I let out a sharp exhale before I turned back to find my locker, shaken up by the conversation. This was nuts-- was I supposed to let one of Roman's friends flirt with me? Why was he even interested in me? Roman didn't have that many friends in the first place anyway, so I knew this was risky.

With shaky fingers, I worked the combination of my locker, still rattled from the conversation--

Until my body froze.

There was torn page splayed on top of my unorganized heap of books. Someone had snuck it in between the cracks of my locker.

I pulled it out slowly, staring down at the words, ink sinking into the delicate paper; it was a passage from The Picture of Dorian Gray.

You have killed my love. You used to stir my imagination. Now you don't even stir my curiosity. You simply produce no effect. I loved you because you were marvellous, because you had genius and intellect, because you realized the dreams of great poets and gave great substance to the shadows of art. You have thrown it all away. You are shallow and stupid.

What... 

... The actual fuck?

I held back a gasp of shock and disgust, fighting the urge to crumple up the page and throw it to the floor to stomp it. It was clear as day that Roman had left me this-- who else would assume this was a good thing to leave the girl you're begging to take you back? 

Was he trying to prove a point?

Was he trying to tell me that I was shallow and stupid for thinking about throwing everything between us away?

With an angry huff, I stuffed the page into my back pocket-- I was definitely going to burn it when I got home.

... Maybe then, I'd feel clean?

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

I had been angry before, yes; but nothing could beat the tsunami of rage ravaging through me after seeing that stupid passage.

I sat on the bleachers during lunch the next day, tucked into one of the higher rows, the sun casting sharp shadows along the field below-- I angrily picked at the edge of my water bottle label, trying to drown out the chatter of the students scattered around the stands. Letha sat beside me, legs crossed, her chin delicately propped on one hand; "Don't look now," she murmured, voice soft and secretive. "But... I think your admirer is on his way."

My head snapped up to look at her before I could stop myself. "There's no fucking way," I hissed under my breath. "He's here? Now?"

Letha's grin flickered, bright with amusement. My stomach turned as I followed her gaze-- and sure enough, there he was. Jack Edwards, one of the jocks from Roman's cocky friend group. He strolled across the field with some guys I recognized from before, hands stuffed into his pockets, cutting through the groups of lingering students like he owned the place.

My pulse quickened. Panic rose in my chest as I glared at Letha; "You didn't,"

"I might've... suggested you needed some cheering up today," Her eyes sparkled, wicked and bright. "He was more than happy to oblige!"

"Cheering up?! Letha, I didn't agree to this!" With a groan, I buried my face in my hands, hoping the ground would open and swallow me whole. I didn't want anyone but Roman anyway-- fucking hell, I should've been more clear with Letha.

On the other hand, she looked proud as ever; "I'm the best, aren't I?"

Heat flooded my face. I gripped the edge of the bleacher so tightly my knuckles ached. "Letha, I'm two seconds away from lobotomizing myself with my fucking water bottle because of you!"

"Oh, come on," she whispered, leaning in close. "It's just a little harmless fun! You need some distractions, we talked about this!"

But there was nothing harmless about the way Jack's eyes locked onto mine as he climbed the steps.

Unclean.

Filthy.

I felt dirty-- I shouldn't be indulging in this.

Trapped, pinned beneath Letha's gaze, I tried to contain my panic; "Why the fuck is he even into me? He's, like, very close to Roman, no?"

"Well..." Letha cleared her throat, shooting Jack a sweet smile as she waved him over to us. This would've been the perfect time to catapult myself out of my seat and up into the sun's orbit. "Men are primitive, y'know? If they think they can get laid, they don't really care how or with whom."

"Ew, Letha!" I was sick to my stomach just imagining that I'd sleep with anyone that wasn't Roman. 

"Relax," she cooed, brushing her fingers lightly against my arm. "It's only a game! You don't have to do anything but lead him on a bit."

I couldn't breathe.

And then Jack approached-- standing just below our row, flashing a grin that made my stomach flip. "Hey, girls," he murmured. "Need some company?"

I wished the ground would swallow me whole. Before I could even muster up a half-hearted response, Letha was already smoothing down her skirt and rising to her feet. "You bet! I'll leave you two to it," she said sweetly, flashing me a look that was both knowing and victorious before slipping down the steps like she had just orchestrated the most harmless, innocent thing in the world.

But it wasn't harmless, not when my stomach was twisting itself into knots, and definitely not innocent.

And then, like a twist of fate, I felt a shiver run up my spine— I knew that feeling like I knew my own breath. There was a tingling sensation at the front of my brain, sending repeated signals to turn my head.

... Oh no.

I knew who could be doing this to me.

With a pit in my stomach, I turned my head slightly, pulse pounding in my ears, and sure enough, there he was.

Roman appeared at the far end of the field with the rest of his friends, just beyond the fences, half in the shadows of the trees. The upper button of his shirt was unbuttoned, his hands shoved deep in his pockets, but his posture was rigid, unreadable.

Except I could read him.

The tight set of his jaw, the slight flare of his nostrils, the way his head tipped, just barely, like he was daring me to keep looking at him. 

I opened my mouth (whether to call out to Roman or to breathe, I wasn't sure), but before I could do either, Jack's voice pulled me back; "So," he drawled, taking the empty space beside me. "What's a pretty thing like you doing all the way up here, huh?"

I barely heard him. My eyes flickered back to Roman instinctively, but--

He was already gone.

A cold wave of panic crashed over me. I sat up straighter, scanning the field, searching, aching--but there was nothing. No sign of him, like he had never been there at all.

Except he had been, and he had seen everything. He had seen Jack sitting down next to me, he had seen the hungry look in his eyes; I had an inkling that this was going to bite me in the ass. I had screwed over my one-week truce with Roman, all because of Letha's convincing. Swallowing the thick rock in my throat, my mind raced with everything unsaid, everything unfixable. What had I done?

I turned to Jack, not bothering to sweeten my tone; "Let's cut the bullshit, yeah? What are you doing here?"

Blinking, he let out a shocked laugh. He fixed his hair in an oddly familiar manner (it wouldn't surprise me if he had picked it up from Roman) before he recovered. "I've been... trying to get your number for a while. Before Roman got to you, actually,"

... What? 

I felt my face soften. "Oh," 

Jack chuckled, shaking his head as he darted his gaze to the field in front of us. "Godfrey called dibs out of nowhere," he explained. "And if we are to follow bro-code, I had to pull away."

"This isn't very bro-code friendly, though?" It was true-- I had seen Jack hanging out with Roman recently, so they couldn't have had a falling out. "Roman could rip your throat out for this." 

He could. He genuinely could. 

I held back a shudder as I watched Jack, and the way the sun reflected off his pitch black hair. Eventually, he spoke; "Roman's been preoccupied with other girls as of late, so I figured I'd shoot my shot," He was smiling at me now, so smug, so sure of himself-- it was almost charming. "I mean, I had to see if the rumours were true."

I blinked at him, barely processing. "What rumors?"

Jack only grinned wider; "That you're finally over Godfrey,"

My stomach dropped.

Over him? Over Roman?

The laugh that almost escaped my throat was so bitter I had to bite down on my lip to keep it in. I had spent every second of every day thinking about him, hurting over him, wanting him. There was no version of my life where I just moved on.

I should have shut Jack down immediately. I should have told him to go find some other girl to bother, that I wasn't interested, that Letha had put him up to this for her own amusement-- but instead, I just stared at him, hollowed out, my hands tightening around the hem of my skirt as my mind spiralled.

Had Roman lied to me? Was he actually preoccupied with other girls? Was he maybe so desperate to keep me around because I'd be an easy lay? Maybe he was scared I'd tell his secret to people if he didn't keep me close?

I felt my breath constrict in my chest; "He's sleeping with the cheerleaders, isn't he?"

Jack blinked. "Roman?"

"Is he?" Please, please, no. If he had lied to me about this, I would die on the spot.

Something in Jack's charming eyes changed, but I didn't need Sherlock Holmes to decode that look for me-- they softened with the realization that I would probably never be over Roman. I would always be Roman's girl, just like every other girl at this school that had ever been involved with him. Therefore, I watched as Jack sighed, shaking his head; "Nope. I would've heard the details by now, if so,"

I instantly felt my heart fall into its right place. "Thank you," I whispered.

Jack sank back into his seat, looking back at the field in front of us while he nodded to himself. I peeked the small smile; was he maybe relieved to get a proper answer? "Sorry to bother you, then," There was a certain ease about him that made me feel beyond comfortable-- he wasn't snappy about this becoming a failed attempt (unlike how a certain other blonde asshole would react), but he was simply accepting of the facts before him. In another universe, I would've probably gone for someone like Jack, someone confident, someone quietly strong.

I had no idea what came over me when I suddenly found myself smiling too; "You didn't bother me. It's kinda nice to talk to someone that isn't Letha,"

Jack glanced at me with a flirty chuckle. "She's a bit intense, right?"

"A bit, yeah," 

"I think she gets it from that Rumancek dude," Jack continued, shrugging matter-of-factly. "They're always hanging out, the both of them. Did you know that the guy once threatened to gut me for being a bad group partner during a lab project? Funny man... I don't get what she sees in him, but I guess the weirdos gotta find love somewhere too, right?"

... Wait.

What?

I straightened up in my seat. "Peter?"

Jack's eyes widened with intrigue-- "Why do I sense this is news to you?"

"They're not together like that," I huffed. "That'd be nuts. If Peter and Letha were sleeping together, Roman would have a field day chewing them out to the bone."

"Okay..." With a cocky laugh, Jack shrugged again; "I might've misinterpreted it, then. They hang out a lot behind school, that's all I've seen... looking all gooey and shit."

I had to put a stop to this rumor before it got to Roman. Knowing him, he'd jump to conclusions, and Letha could really, really suffer; "No, no... Even if they talk, then it's nothing like that,"

"Alright," Jack snorted. "Don't come running to me when you see that I'm right, though."

The sun, now dipping lower, cast long shadows across the field. It felt like the calm before a storm, and my ease began to settle into a rhythm. I was about to say something, maybe even something nice, but then, I heard it; the unmistakable sound of heavy footsteps approaching. The air instantly grew colder, and I turned my head, dread pooling in my chest. My eyes locked on him-- Roman.

His presence was like a sudden freeze, like he was the shift in the atmosphere. He moved with a quiet intensity that made the world seem to shrink around him; I wanted to shrink into nothing as well, sucked into a black hole where I could hide. 

Before I could process it, Jack spoke again, his tone lowered, almost conspiratorial. "I don't know what it is about you two," he muttered under his breath, just loud enough for me to hear. "But you both always act like you're untouchable... and with him hanging around, I suppose you'll always be."

When Roman eventually reached us, he was completely still, frozen in a way I had never seen before. His jaw clenched, his eyes narrowing ever so slightly as they passed over me, barely acknowledging my presence. I felt my pulse quicken, my breath catching in my throat. There was something about his stoic expression that made my stomach flip, and it made me feel like I was about to be disciplined for acting out, just like the old days in elementary school. 

It was as if Roman couldn't quite let go of the distance between us, eyes flickering back and forth for a good second or two. Then, his gaze darted to Jack with unnatural speed-- upir, upir, upir. "Seriously?" Roman said, snapping his fingers at him as his condescending tone fuelled my anxiety. "You've really got nothing better to do than this?"

Jack froze for a split second, and I could almost hear the gears turning in his head, trying to process the shift in Roman's tone. His voice hadn't risen; it was the kind of tone that made it clear he wasn't in the mood for games, but it wasn't outright threatening-- just... annoyed.

However, to my surprise, Jack shot a grin. "Well, well, if it isn't the big bad Godfrey! Finally decided to join us, huh?"

Roman didn't seem amused at all by his antics-- quite the contrary. "She's not your problem, dude,"

Jack shrugged, undeterred, but his words were sharper than before; "She's not your property either, Roman,"

I held my breath. I really, really didn't want to be here. Little by little, I started sliding down my seat. Maybe if I hit the ground, I could slither away?

But the confrontation wasn't over-- Jack's grin became little more pointed with every second. "You sure you're not just holding onto her out of habit, man? You seemed pretty done before, when you were talking to Jessica,"

That name made me want to barf right down on Roman's shoes, and for my vomit to burn through the leather of his shoes. Jessica, the same girl that had tried to flirt with him at a party a while ago-- Jessica, the same girl he had threatened with his lighter, saying he'd burn her extensions off if she didn't shut up about me. Was he really that mad at me? Was he so mad that he was actually talking to a girl he despised just to get revenge for the heartbreak I had caused him?

Roman's jaw tightened, but he didn't immediately respond-- I knew this was the Godfrey look of mortification. It was clear that he didn't want me to know that he had talked to Jessica at all.

To make matters worse, Jack sensed this and kept pushing. He pointed between Roman and I, biting down on the look of glee spreading through his face. "I mean... you two aren't even together anymore, right? So why do you care if I'm talking to her?"

I could see that he was getting to Roman. A part of me wanted to grab Jack, shake him, and warn him that he was going up against the most dangerous carnivore on the planet, a upir, yet... another part of me wanted to see if Roman would actually snap. After his illustrative show of his control in the library last week, I wondered how this would apply in real life the second time around. 

Roman's chest tightened for a split second, and for just a moment, I was sure he'd flip, I was sure he'd just lunge at Jack to get it over with.

But alas--

"We might not be together anymore, but we still fuck,"

... No.

Oh God, no.

There was a beat of silence. 

My heart sunk in my chest, and I felt the blood drain from my face. It wasn't just the words-- it was the coldness in his voice, like he was speaking in a way that made it clear that pursuing me wasn't something Jack should even be thinking about.

On the other hand, Jack's grin faltered as his gaze flickered between Roman and I. I wondered whether he imagined when we had managed to have sex, where we had done it, what the timeline was-- that must've been a mortifying thought to think. I was certainly not jealous of him. Still, he opened his mouth to say something, anything, to salvage his pride.

But Roman cut him to it; "Maybe you should ask your little friend here what depths of desperation one must sink down into to get fucked on a library floor?"

I felt like the air had been sucked out of me, and it got to a point where I started pondering whether to get up and push my stupidly pretty ex-boyfriend down the bleachers. Then, my next thought was that it probably wouldn't hurt him at all. I hadn't expected to, but I missed thinking about other things, like whether Letha actually was the modern-day Moses or not. And Jack...  poor Jack's face went pale. 

Roman's eyes never left him, and I spotted the evil shimmer in his eyes, the look of complete and utter evil glee. Beyond happy with himself, he let out a huff of pride before he stuffed his hands into his pockets-- "Get lost, dude," he said, his tone final, deadly. "This one's mine."

Jack didn't say another word. He was quick to get up, muttering something under his breath that was unmistakable; "Freaks," 

I sat frozen to my seat, my heart still racing, trying to process what had just happened as I watched him leave, huffing as he disappeared down the bleachers. It felt like someone had just poured a bucket of cold water on me, and now I was left to shiver and shudder.

Eventually, Roman turned to me with that same evil smirk I secretly loved; "You should stop talking to guys like that," he cooed, his tone soft with false concern. "You know they can't keep up, baby. Shoot a little higher, if you want to get over me so bad."

If I could kick the bleacher seat away from me when I shot up, I would. Stepping closer, I buried my pointer in Roman's chest; "Fuck off," I hissed. "You don't get to do this!--"

"No, I do," In an instant, his smirk was wiped off his face, and it revealed the bitter glimmer in his eyes as he grabbed my hand, urging me to get my fingers off of him. "We decided on a week's worth of peace, did you forget?"

Angered, I yanked my arm away from Roman with a groan. "You decided that! You cornered me with your fucking fingers inside me! How the fuck do you expect me to think clearly in that state?! On top of that, now you've managed to tell Jack we fucked, so congratulations! Letha will probably find out in an hour or two, and you've screwed me over again!"

Getting all of that in his face didn't seem easy-- Roman broke eye contact, letting his gaze fall down to his newly polished shoes. "Jack won't say anything," he mumbled. "And if anything, you simply deny it. I won't tell Letha anything if she asks me."

It took me a minute to really feel the weight of what he was saying. At the start of my whole journey with Roman, he was dying to tell Letha everything, and he would do anything for an opportunity to rat me out and get me in trouble-- but now, he was protecting me. From now on, I was sure he'd always want to do that. This snapped me out of my anger, and I retorted to a simple nod; "You owe me, by the way,"

Roman's eyes peeked up, his eyebrows raising-- "That's my line,"

I struggled to bite down on the smile that immediately threatened to crack across my lips. This was highly ironic. "Stop it," I whispered, carefully nudging him. "You owe me forty-nine ninety-nine."

Roman's cheeks seemed to warm from my touch. "What for?"

"The, uh..." I swallowed hard. "The plan B." 

It took him a few seconds to figure out what I had needed that for. Had he forgotten that he had come inside of me? Seemingly not; "Oh," Roman's hand shot to his pocket again, finding his wallet. "You took care of it?"

That line annoyed me to the point where the following words simply slipped past my mind-- "Of course I did! You're crazy if you think I'd have babies with you,"

Roman's hands froze as he reached for the dollar bills in his wallet. It wasn't for many seconds, and I would've missed it had I not been watching his every move. I felt like I had punched myself in the gut, and now I wondered whether he felt that way about it too. In silence, he gave me fifty dollars, not looking me in the eyes anymore. 

"Don't look so sad," I breathed, feeling my heart clench. "Roman, I--"

"I would've been happy," His jaw tightened, and he shoved the bills into my hand with more force than necessary, like he couldn't stand to have them in his grasp a second longer. "If it were with you... I would've been happy."

Roman didn't wait for a reply-- he didn't dare to. Turning on his heel, he stormed off down the bleachers, the sound of his boots echoing in the empty space. 

The fifty dollars burned in my hand. It felt like they were about to turn my flesh into burning lava, making a hole in my palms. I let Roman walk away, I let him leave; what else was I to do when I was this shell-shocked? 

I crumpled the dollars into my pocket, sniffling. 

When had the most beautiful relationship in my life managed to become... this?

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

There comes a point when you have nothing more to say. There comes a point when it doesn't feel worth it anymore, when the pain becomes too much to bear, and your body materializes it-- most days, I could feel the sorrow like a ball in my hands, vibrating, ablaze in a cloud of fire, burning my fingers before slipping through them.

Being without Roman felt like waking up in a dead man's bedroom. Empty. It used to be a place filled with life, with love, yet now it was abandoned, destitute. I used to be a person filled with life, with love, yet now I was alone, rotting. 

I had done it all to myself. This was my own doing, and I had done it while wielding the sharpest of swords, forged just to fight the scariest of beings--

But Roman wasn't scary?

He wasn't even a full upir, something Letha had failed to mention.

If I closed my eyes, I could still see him kneeling before me, clutching onto my body as he sobbed into the fabric of my shirt. Pleading, crying, begging, begging, begging. The broken look in his eyes, the way his fingers trembled against me, holding me like he was breathing his last dying breath and wasting it on me. 

In my mind, when I visited the memory, I'd sink down to the floor with him. I'd bury my fingers in his hair and let him cry into the crook of my shoulder. I'd caress him, hold him, tell him everything was going to be alright, and that I loved him like I had loved no one else. 

Roman Godfrey used to be scary. Now, he was just a boy.

Wailing for comfort.

Begging for forgiveness.

Pleading for another chance to get back the life he had once led, the one I had so cruelly ripped from his trembling arms.

I couldn't breathe. Maybe it was the fact that I didn't want to? Maybe if I stopped breathing for long enough, I'd no longer have to feel the pain of being conscious? I could die of my own volition, on my terms, in my own time.

Yet then I'd...

I'd leave him.

Roman would be alone.

He'd continue walking this earth with no one by his side. He'd wander through centuries alone, he'd eat alone, he'd cry alone, he'd live alone, he'd be alone.

So I whispered; "I don't want you to be alone,"

I adjusted my phone where it lay on my pillow, making sure he'd be able to hear me when he got this voice message. "I don't want you to be alone... All those years, when everyone you know is dead. That was the most heartbreaking thing about all of this, Roman, that I found out that you're destined to live forever if... if you kill yourself..."

My lower lip quivered as I shifted in my bed, rubbing my tears into my skin. I shouldn't have bothered-- I had already drenched the pillow.

"So, whatever I end up choosing, Roman, you need to live," 

Please.

Please.

"You need to go on, and you need to stay strong... and make your heart steel if you must. Do whatever you need to do, just-- just don't do what would need to be done for you to... to be a full upir. Don't ever think about it. Don't even consider it. Could you promise me that?"

I blinked away my tears, rubbing my forehead in a circle with my pointer to hopefully alleviate the pain. 

Nothing ever did.

Nothing ever would.

"You said I'd never be clean of you," I whispered. "But you're not something I need to wash off my skin, Roman." 

Sniffling, I shifted-- I wondered whether he'd be able to hear the shuffling of my bedsheets. "I just want you to be happy. I really, really want you to be happy. So, if we don't end up together... think of me once in a while?"

I hoped he would.

I so desperately hoped he would. "... Please?" And with that, I broke. Letting into a loud hiccup of a sob, I hung up on Roman's voicemail. In the bleak dark of the night, I caught the time; 02:04.

And at 02:27, I got a twenty-three minute long voice message back.

I pressed play over and over;

"I love you,"

A whisper. Barely there.

"I love you, I love you, I love you,"

Again and again, soft, rhythmic, almost like a prayer. Like if he just said it enough times, it would make things right. It was the only thing he could say.

My thumb hovered over his name, over that tiny glowing green button. Roman was awake. I knew he was. Somewhere out there, he was awake with his phone still in his hands, maybe just waiting... maybe just hoping?

I choked my sobs against my pillows, my whole body trembling beneath the weight of the crushing heartbreak-- it didn't matter. None of it mattered, because I couldn't call him.

So I played it again.

And again.

And then I saved it twice; once on my phone, and once on my USB the next morning, just in case I ever forgot how it felt to be loved like that.

"I love you... I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you,"

Roman loved me...

But would that be enough to save us?

At least I had until Friday to figure it out-- at Jasmine's party.

(a/n: AHHH I can't WAIT for y'all to see what's gonna go down at the party!! this was like a teeny tiny little appetizer... omfg. thank you so so much for reading this far!! 🥹💕)

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[cutielando]

Heyy can you write some headcanons or a oneshot about Charles dating a girl with small boobs?

small | charles leclerc

synopsis: in which he doesn't care that you have small boobs

pairing: charles leclerc x insecure!reader

my masterlist

Charles couldn't say he really cared about your boobs. For sure, he loved them oh so much, but he wouldn't say it was something detrimental to your relationship or anything like that.

On the other hand, you had been self-conscious about your small boobs ever since you could remember. Seeing so many other girls with broad chests, looking so sexy and hot and desirable because of their boobs made you feel down every time you would look down at your chest and see... nothing.

That is one of the reasons why you were very hesitant to have sex with Charles after going out for a few weeks.

Both of you had been hinting about finally doing it for a while, but something always came up on your end. You'd have a headache, you'd not had had the time to get waxed, you were out of town. Frankly, you were running out of excuses to delay the inevitable.

Charles had been the perfect gentleman through the whole process. He had been respectful from the very beginning when you had told him you wanted to wait for a little while before taking the next step.

You hadn't done much more than heavy making out and some fondling over your clothes. Mainly because you didn't want to let Charles see how much you were lacking in the boobs department and decide that he didn't want to be with you for that reason exactly.

You had found yourself, yet again, in the same situation you had been running from for weeks now. Making out with Charles on his bed, his hands trailing the shape of your hips and your hands tightly gripping at the back of his shirt.

However, the moment his hands got too near your boobs for your liking, you immediately pulled away and sat up, leaving a confused Charles panting, his lips and cheeks flushed.

"Mon amour? Is everything okay?" he asked once he had caught his breath, running a hand through his messy hair as he settled on the bed next to you.

You didn't respond, clutching your knees to your chest and resting your forehead against your legs. You couldn't tell him what was bothering you, he was for sure going to think you were stupid and then end everything. But you couldn't lie to him anymore either.

Sighing, you lifted your head to look at him, biting your lip once you noticed the gentle smile he was looking at you with.

"You're going to think it's stupid" you mumbled, your gaze suddenly extremely focused in your nails.

Charles shifted closer to you, taking your chin in his hand to make you look at him.

"Nothing you have to say is stupid. I just want to know what's going on" he explained, brushing his thumb against the skin of your cheek.

You sighed, closing your eyes as you reveled in the way his touch was so gentle with you, the way the feeling of his soothing motions made your skin burn, the way he was looking at you with so much love. It all almost made you want to cry.

"I'm scared you're not going to like me anymore once you see me...naked" you explained, opening your eyes to see his reaction.

His eyebrows were furrowed, an adorable little pout forming. You could see he was utterly confused, which made you internally groan because you would have to explain it even more explicitly.

"What do you mean? Why would I stop liking you?" he asked, his hand now falling on your right knee.

You gulped, licking your lips which had dried up from the stress of the situation you were currently in.

"I'm not as... gifted as other girls are in certain parts of my body" you said slowly, hoping he would finally catch on. When you saw the confusion becoming ever more prominent, you groaned. "I have small boobs, Charles!"

His mouth finally widened in understanding, before bursting out laughing. You hid your face in your legs, your cheeks blushing in embarrassment.

Once his laughter finally died down, he lifted your chin once again and held your face in his hands.

"I don't care how big or small your boobs are. I love you for who you are, not for the way you look. You're the most attractive person I've ever seen, every single part of you" his words made your eyes well up with tears.

All the stress that you had experienced every time you and him got more intimate, the way you were always afraid of him touching you there, he really didn't care about any of it.

"Are you sure?" you whispered, making him smile and lean in to kiss your forehead.

"I'm 100% positive" you leaned in and kissed him, pulling away to rest your forehead against his.

"Charles?"

"Hmm?"

"Can we have sex now?"

comments and re-blogs help us grow!

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[bigxrepvtation]

hey, i was wondering if you could do mark slaon x reader where’s she’s the complete opposite of him (quiet and self-conscious) and he is captured by her but she isn’t interested in him due to his reputation (I hope that makes sense haha), thanks!

❛ 𝑶𝒑𝒑𝒐𝒔𝒊𝒕𝒆𝒔 ❜

𝙋𝙖𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜: Mark Sloan x reader ♡

𝘼/𝙣: hii I hope this is good for you :) thx for requesting here <3

It hasn't been really long since when you started working at the Seattle Grace. You were the new pediatric surgeon and luckily all the people seemed to be nice. With some of them you got along very well, you had managed to establish also a good working relationship with everyone and surprisingly even attracting some unexpected people.

Mark Sloan, probably the most popular person in this hospital. You didn't really know him that well but, yet all the rumors where he was the main characters were enough. Not judging was actually difficult in that case even though you weren't that kind of person.

For some reason there was something in you that couldn't make him stop to keep his eyes on you. At first you tried to ignore it, but as it went on it was starting to annoy you.

You did not hesitate to address him qute directly, but the way he acted as you spoke not able to hide your annoyed tone bothered you even more. That stupid smirk and look were getting on your nerves so bad.

Obviously he was just trying to play it cool and look friendly. You had your ideas and thoughts, you were perfectly fine on your own and you definitely didn't need people like him. Everything that came out of his mouth could sound like a sort of flirting, everytime without any success.

But that was during work when you finally saw the person he actually was in the inside. You couldn't deny the way he took care of patients and the way sometimes he cared. Maybe his reputation was the worst but his personality might have saved him. Well this wasn't really changing your mind, it would have been just more like a normal or decent co-workers relationship and something different than the usual sighing or eyes rolling anytime he interacted with you.

At least now the situation became less unbearable, he was almost being... ok. Almost ok. And he was clearly enjoying your change of behaviour with him.

You had just scrubbed out of a surgery and this long day seemed finally to be over. You took off your scrub cap and leaned against the wall, resting your head against it and closing your eyes for a few seconds.

“Ever heard of beds?” you didn't even need to look to know who that was. Mark stood next to you.

“Oh please I don't have enough energy for that” you sighed and opened your eyes to look at him. He chuckled.

“How was your surgery?”

“It was good thankfully. Now I'm just exhausted” you replied.

“I can tell” he looked at you and smiled softly. “And I exactly know what would be perfect-”

“Absolutely not” you immediately cut him out.

“I haven't even said anything yet”

“That's enough, no thanks” you stated.

“Oh come on, I was just thinking how about we escape from here so that we both may relax out minds at Joe's. I had a long day as well, so we could just forget everything with some drinks” he rised his eyebrows, waiting for your reply. You looked at him without saying anything, but considerating it. Saying no didn't seem good. That idea was not so bad, was it?

“I will pay” he added. “So, deal?”

You smiled slightly. “Fine” you then said. “But just one drink. And then I'm going home”

“Sounds good. Even better for my wallet” you chuckled softly before making your way to the locker rooms and leave.

[catssluvr]

like old times, natalie scatorccio

natalie scatorccio x fem!reader (1.8k words) (request)

in which you and nat finally see each other after years of being broken up.

warnings: angsty with happy ending!!, ex lovers to lovers, crying

⭑.ᐟ ⭑.ᐟ

You stand outside the motel room, fingers playing nervously with the car keys in your hand. You can hear voices from the inside, familiar ones. There is nothing that could possibly calm the anxiety you feel.

Nothing could have prepared you to receive a message from Natalie asking you to meet up with the group, regarding the postcard you had all gotten in your mail. You're quite sure you wouldn't even be here if it hadn't been her texting you.

With one last deep sigh, you knock on the motel door. Almost immediately the door unlocks, revealing Nat on a baggy t-shirt. This is going to be a long night.

"Hi. You came." She looks surprised, as if not believing you'd actually show up. As if you've ever disappointed her. You couldn't even if you wanted to.

"Hey." You breathe, "You guys needed me." You needed me, you want to say. But you won't give her that staisfaction.

For a moment she seems to forget you're both standing in the doorway, not used to your cold treatment. You feel self conscious in her gaze, not because she would ever give you a dirty look but you really did try to make yourself look like you're living the best life.

"Are you going to let me in?" You motion inside with your hand.

"Right. Of course." She shakes her head as if avoiding to say something she'll regret.

Your eyes land on Shauna first, who's standing by the bed with a nervous face. And then Tai, who looks way too tired for someone who's supposed to be living a life with the perfect family.

"Hey guys, haven't seen you in ages." You decide on saying, trying to ignore the fact you all avoid each other at all costs.

"Literally. Ages." Shauna throws her hands in the air with an awkward smile.

"It sucks that it's not for the best reason but whatever." Tai intervenes before adding with a kind smile, "Nice seeing you're doing well."

You're not sure if she means you actually look good or somehow just knows about you and Nat with your no contact situation. It wouldn't be hard to read the room since you've barely looked her way yet.

"Thanks." An awkward silence follows. You wish for a second Misty were here. Where even is she? You chose not to ask.

"I think we should go straight to the point. There's a fucker sending postcards and blackmailing us, and we need to do something about it." Shauna starts.

"I say we pay them." Nat shrugs, though you know she's aware it's not that simple by the way she plays with her necklaces.

"Well, with what money?" Shauna questions with raised eyebrows.

As if planed, all eyes shot to Taissa, silently waiting for her to realize the plan.

"No." She says instantly, receiving drop of shoulders from Shauna. "Seriously, things aren't great at home and i can't just take that much money without explanation."

"Look, i think we might be exaggerating. This is probably just some creep who's trying to scare us into giving him money and doesn't actually know shit." You start, not getting to continue as Nat steps up.

"But what if they do know?" You know what she's doing. Trying to get you to look at her and give her the satisfaction of knowing you're annoyed at her.

"As i was saying. Which is why i think we should let them have it their way and pay. But from what we know none of us can afford it right now." You look straight at the two other girls in the room as you speak.

"So what? We just leave the bag there like it's nothing and run?" Nat presses, pacing around until she's in the middle of the room.

"Yeah well, you seem to be quite good at leaving things and running, anyway." You finally snap, casting her an attempted death glare that comes out more pained than anything.

Nat looks taken a back for a second, looking away as she straightens up.

"Hey, you two." Shauna practically scolds you both, "Whatever it is that's going on is definitely not more important than this. So focus." She exasperates.

Your silence agrees with her, but you catch Natalie rolling her eyes in the corner of your eyes.

"We could always try to find out who it is. Who says they won't try to do it again?" Tai suggests. You really are going to take ages to reach a conclusion.

"I'll deal with the money problem." Nat states.

You frown, since when is she rotten rich? You're pretty sure someone with money wouldn't be living in a motel.

Suddenly, Shauna's phone rings from inside her bag. She pulls it out, huffing at the letters displayed on her phone. "Fuck, it's Jeff. I have to take this but i'll be back, sorry."

She leaves the room, leaving behind the heavy silence from before.

"I'm just going to get some snacks from the vending machine." You quickly find an excuse to leave the room. Only for a minute, you think. The chances of sharing a room with Nat for one more second without bursting into tears, yelling at her or kissing her are slim.

As none of them say anything, you make a hasty exit, breathing in the fresh night air with long exhales.

You hear a door being slammed, followed by a call for your name that you ignore, taking long strides in the opposite direction.

"Wait!" Nat yells, this time closer and making it impossible to ignore.

"Did you want anything to eat?" You turn, facing her with a sarcastic kind smile, "Might not be not be suddenly rich like some but i can handle a bar of chocolate."

"I don't, just thought we should talk." Much to your dissatisfaction, Nat bluntly ignores the bitterness in your tone. "And i'm not rich. I'm selling my car."

You hate the way she's trying to actually have a conversation with you, as if you're some kind of old friends reuniting. Talking to you with the same gentle voice she only uses with you. Used with you.

"What?"

"It's no big deal, wanted to do it for a while anyway." Nat shrugs.

"Whatever. There's nothing to talk about." You state, striding towards the vending machine again.

"Don't be like that." She reaches to touch your arm, retracting once you give her a displeased look.

"Like what?" You snap.

"We can at least try to casually talk to each other." She says, not seeming to be sure of her own words.

"Is that what you really want?" You question, stopping as you come to face with the snacks. Silence follows.

"Thought so." You grumble lowly, pretending to look at the display on the vending machine.

"It was never my intention to make you this mad at me. I'm sorry." Nat observes softly, tilting her head so you can see her from the corner of your eyes.

"Mad? That's how you think i feel?" You answer a bit too loudly, feeling glad the place seems to be pretty empty.

"You've been... snappy." She gestures with lack of words.

"Maybe cause this is all really messed up, Natalie. You leave me and then come back when you need help." You try to stay calm as you speak, "So if you're gonna tell me i'm 'snappy', just fucking leave." You add with a wobbly voice.

"I couldn't let them make decisions on this without you." Nat tries. You close your eyes for a moment, unsure of why it feels like she isn't quite telling you the truth.

"And is it that big of a sacrifice to help me?" She huffs out.

"No! But last time i tried to help you we both know how it ended." You can't help but be sure you were right before, you are practically yelling at her and very close to tears.

Natalie whispers your name, desperate to reach out but holding herself back again, "I did it for you. I couldn't put you in that position."

"So you threw me out of your life like i was nothing, all for me?"

"You think it wasn't hard for me?" She frowns, eyes wide as she stares at you.

"I know it was. Which is why i begged you to let me stay in your life." You feel the tears well up in your eyes, gulping down a sob.

She opens her mouth to say something but closes it again just as quickly. "I don't know what to say." It sounds more chocked than it should for the choice of words.

You nod defeatedly, "I don't think i can do this, sorry. I'll just say goodbye to the girls and leave."

You move to leave once again, snacks long forgotten. Pressing your fingers to your lips, you let yourself feel regretful of agreeing to come here.

"No. Please don't." This time she actually touches you, fingers barely grazing your sweater covered arm in a pleading way.

"C'mon Nat, give me a good reason why i shouldn't go." You feel completely lost, embarrassed by the way your tears fall freely and uncontained.

Natalie wraps her fingers around your wrist, her own eyes filling with tears. "I didn't just reach out because we needed help." Her vulnerable voice feels like honey to you, her touch grounding you without much effort needed.

"Why?" You don't have to press further to know she understands your question. Close to begging her to say the things you want to hear.

"I needed to see you." She admits, eyes dancing across your face in a needy way, "Needed it so bad- so i found an excuse." Her lips wobble as she struggles to use honesty.

"You don't want me, Nat." Though you really wish she will tell you otherwise.

"Do you actually believe that? I think about you every single day." She smiles sadly.

It finally snaps, all the holding back crumbling down in seconds. You grab her by the face, kissing her fiercely. As if she might disappear at any moment.

But she doesn't seem to be eager to disappear at all, clinging to your waist with as much strength. Her lips fit perfectly in yours, just like you remember. Feel the same too, if not more desperate.

You pull back before she gets the chance to deepen the kiss, barely leaving space between you as you press a kiss to her forehead.

"You deserve this, Nat. You deserve love." You whisper genuinely.

"It's just- hard." She settles on saying, but not making move to pull away at all.

"Then let me show you." You remark.

Nat nods, letting her lips fall to your cheek and pressing feather-like kisses there as you play with the shirt that hangs low on her shoulders. "I love you so fucking much, sweetheart."

"I love you." Your lips return to her without a second thought.

“Any chance we can kick them out?” You hint with a smirk.

“Abso-fucking-lutely.” Nat mumbles into your lips, pulling you towards her room.

“Hey.” You call, making her stop for a second to look at you confused. “No more running, okay?”

Her gaze softens as she moves to hold your neck and presses a more soft kiss to your top lip, “No more running.”

[clownyclaushoe]

art the clown x reader 🔞 | i taste blood and it's turned into an obsession series

part one | champagne confetti

the first time art the clown eats your pussy (and makes you squirt 😫🖤) 🔞 ofc

i didn't intend for there to be so much semi-plot before the porn but it gets just a little angsty/sad at the start. chapter title comes from the song 3d by jungkook cause i couldn't think of anything else and its a euphemism for squirting 😆💦🍾 series title is from lilith (diablo iv anthem) by halsey feat. suga.

part two | part three | part four

---

you couldn't quantify what your relationship with the miles county clown was; it wasn't really a friendship and you weren't romantically or sexually involved either, though you'd be lying if you said art didn't have a way about him that drew you in, something so inexplicably attractive about him. for his part, it seemed he tolerated you most times, others it was as if he kept you around for his own amusement.

that much was probably true enough, given the night you'd met and his over the top reaction to your homemade costume last halloween - harley quinn from the animated series. when he'd walked into the fast food joint and noticed you, he dropped his massive black trash bag to the floor, rushing up to you as if you were a celebrity. it was late enough that there were a few groups of people from the nearby bar throughout the restaurant. his display making them stare, snicker, and talk amongst themselves. it made you a little self-conscious, but the funny clown wasn't fazed at all.

you thanked him, because though a little embarrassing, it was also flattering, considering the time and effort it took to make each detail of your outfit and makeup just right.

somehow you'd let him sit at your table, you asking if he was going to purchase anything, if he was hungry; he had definitely looked like he could use a meal. he had pulled out some change, counting it out on the table. you placed your hand over his, stopping him, telling him you got it. his head jolted back as he looked up at you wide-eyed, mouth agape, as if he was scared by your touch. something in your chest clenched, wondering what made him react in such a way, what could have happened in his past.

six months later you still didn't know the details of his past, though you still were curious. what was he like as a kid, as a teenager, was he an outcast back then, too? would you two have been friends?

you stared at his back as he sat at his work bench, tinkering with some new items for his arsenal. it troubled you how you could compartmentalize that murderous, sadistic side of art from the silly, caring side, though as time goes on its lessening. you wonder, too, if those "good" parts of him were enough to keep him in your life, if it meant even monsters could one day be redeemed. though you doubt art sought redemption, his dark heart beyond healing.

you return your gaze back to your laptop, you had been binge watching youtube videos, just about to search for funny animal clips, when art's hand suddenly waved in front of the screen.

"shit, what, art--" you said all at once, as you hadn't seen or heard his approach. art's arm dropped, and he slumped a little, frowning at you curiously. "i'm sorry, i didn't mean to snap at you. i was just startled." you exhale a deep breath. "yes, art?"

art grinned, pointing at your laptop. "what is it?" art flexed his fingers in a gesture suggesting you hand your laptop to him.

"you want this?" art nodded. "for what?" art insistently did a grabby-hands gesture, while bouncing on his toes. "okay, okay." you handed it over, hoping he wasn't ordering materials or weapons to be used for his next kill using your saved card info.

after a few clicks, suddenly there's audio playing. it's a woman - and it sounds like she's shouting. for a moment you think it might be a snuff video. it takes a few seconds to realize those are shouts of pleasure, not pain.

"i'll leave you alone to enjoy that."

art grabs your arm momentarily, shaking his head, pointing at you, himself, then the screen. you stare at him, confused until he turns the laptop to show you what he was watching.

a man eating a woman's pussy. and not in the cannibal sense, but the cunnilingus sense.

he continues pointing between the three of you, animatedly. "art? you want to eat my pussy?"

art nodded excitedly while pausing the video and putting the computer aside. you didn't think he viewed you that way, wasn't even sure he had a libido.

it seemed at times even art was at the mercy of his own whims, compelled to do things without knowing why or bothering to question it. you wondered if this was one of those times.

did he even understand what he was asking?

"i didn't think-- art, i-i don't--" you trailed off, at a loss for what to say. for what you could say. the truth was for an unbearably long time you've wanted him in every way possible, how could you deny yourself the chance now.

you stood, turning to him, and pushing up on your tiptoes, wrapping your arms around his neck as he slipped his arms around your waist, pulling you closer against him. your faces so close, you can feel his breath fanning against your cheek, his intense gaze boring into yours.

the moment lingered. which of you would act first and finally release the thick tension filling the already stuffy air; the summer heat worsened in the poorly ventilated room, sorely lacking air conditioning. sweat trailed down your side, under the thin fabric of your dress. you needed out of these clothes.

art smirked at you, tilting his head, eyes widening and brows raising - he's teasing you, trying to see if he could get a rise out of you. you knew he liked to fuck around with people for his own entertainment, of course you'd be no different. luckily, the distinction between you and everyone else was he's about to fuck around with you, literally.

you couldn't wait any longer.

you leaned forward, capturing art's mouth suddenly, gripping the back of his head. after a moment, art kisses back, a little uncoordinated and off-kilter, which is to be expected with art, and the almost certainty that he's long out of practice.

you whimpered a little against his mouth, taking aback by just how much you're affected by the touch of his lips and his embrace surrounding you.

his hands move down to your thighs and you hop up, art pulling you off the ground, your legs wrapping around him. art takes steps forward and you have no idea where he's taking you and you don't fucking care. he walks you over to his work bench with all his beloved tools that he kept in a particular order and never let anyone else ever touch. he cast the tools aside with a swipe of his arm, setting you on the table.

you sit at the edge and he presses close between your legs as you kiss again, feeling his hard-on though his costume, your hips rolling to grind against him, seeking friction to drive you both wild.

"fuck, i can already feel your big, hard cock," you gasp out incredulously. "want to feel it inside me already. please, art."

art grins, but wiggles his finger at you, shaking his head with his tongue out as if to remind you of what started all this in the first place.

you wait impatiently for his next move.

he grazes his hands up your dress, starting at your thighs and up the curve of your hips, over your waist, shifting up to squeeze your tits together. he unfastened the buttons at the top of the garment before pulling it up and over your head. once again he's surprised you, you would've guessed he'd tear the thin fabric off your body. you get wetter at the thought.

he's quick to do away with your bra and underwear. you lie back on the table as much as will allow, your legs spreading further apart for art to see all of you.

he grabs the backs of your thighs, holding them up as he leans closer to your pussy. he spits on it, his cold saliva spilling over your hot and pulsating labia.

art ducks his head, wasting no time latching his mouth onto your pussy, his big nose bumping your clit repeatedly.

"ohh, oh my god," you struggle to get out, taken aback by his enthusiasm, watching his tongue jutting out to lick between your folds. your body already starting to shake with how fucking good he feels.

his grip on your legs tightens, keeping you still. there's already a familiar feeling of building pressure, like you had to pee - you knew if it were piss, art would be unbothered and perhaps even like it more than the squirt that he was about to coax from you. it was growing urgency, you were so close. your hand blindly reaching for art, for some bearing to ground you, as you felt untethered, completely unfurled by this curious creature and his perfect mouth.

that pressure became too much and you let go, releasing a guttural moan as you come, squirting on art's face, and calling his name.

once art draws back, bearing his teeth with a grin. you knew there was something otherworldly about art, something uncanny, and this seemed farther proof, how he knew how to make you come harder than you ever had, so deeply, it ached - it nearly hurt.

he stands, leaning over you for a kiss, allowing you to taste yourself. when he pulls back, he looks to the pile of tools and for a fleeting moment you think you're his next victim. the real death after the "little" one.

he grabs something from the pile, showing it off with a flourish of his hand. it'd been what he was working on earlier. it was a metal dildo with a smooth head, small ridges around the side and a ribbed shaft.

a shiver ran through you at the thought of art using it on you, that he made it for you. you got wetter imagining being pounded with it, impaled by it.

"fuck yes, please, art." he pushed it inside your soaked pussy, watching the way it stretched you. "ah, shit."

he kept thrusting the toy in and out of you, kneeling again to lick and kiss your clit.

"yes, art, ah, ahhh," you grab his head, holding him in place. "gonna make me fucking squirt again."

and moments later, you were squirting around the toy fucking you good and hard, drenching art's hand and face. the afterglow seemed to go on and on, you have no idea how long, spanning like the moments you had spend with him, time having no meaning anymore.

when you both righted yourselves, you noticed he was getting hard again, huge cock jerking in the tight confines of his pants.

"your turn?" art nods with a grin.

---

sorry to end it with a cliffhanger

i hope you enjoyed! 🖤❤🖤❤🖤

© angeljeonjkk 2024

[calcifermovesthecastle]

Rainy Days

Reader has a meltdown after a morning full of a series of unfortunate events. Luffy makes sure the reader doesn't have to deal with their demons alone.

angst to fluff. a little ooc for luffy i think, but It is purely self indulgent so what.

Oh reader also beefs with Nami sorry

It's been a long day. 

Well, it hasn't really been long, but it has been dreadfully exhausting. You aren't even sure where to start with it, to be honest. It's only noon. All you know is that you're strung so thin that the teeniest tiniest inconvenience will take the mountain of stress on your shoulders and crumple you under its weight. 

Where to start? 

Of course, when you fell asleep last night. 

You happened to fall asleep not in your bed, no. Not on the couch, either. The floor? Not a chance. No, you couldn't have fallen asleep in the lounge, or the aquarium, or on the soft grass on the deck of the Sunny. You couldn't have fallen asleep at the kitchen table, listening to Sanji clean up the remnants of dinner. Nor could you have dozed off in the safety of the survey room. 

You fell asleep hunched against the mast, sitting up in the crow's nest. While you were supposed to be on lookout duty. And now you're all caught in a terrible storm because of it.

You were shaken awake by Zoro at around Six, both of you fully soaked. The intense flashes of lightning illuminated the irritated look on his face, and he certainly chewed you out for not keeping a "better" watch, not warning the rest of them of the impending storm. Making your way down to the deck, your back aching, you were then chewed out by a very hacked off Nami, who also told you in very unkind terms that this could all have been avoided if you had just done your share of the job. 

The storm hadn't let up by the time you made your way to the bath. You were hoping at least maybe a hot shower would seep some of the chill out of your bones. But alas, the door was locked, and when you knocked, Brook called through that he would be a while, he was washing his hair. 

Okay, no shower. You had then trudged up to the girls quarters, looking forward to changing into some dry clothes. 

Robin had told you she was doing laundry. 

Fine. It was fine. You had thanked her for taking care of your share, and, still sopping wet, still aching, now with a pounding headache and a stuffy nose, went to the infirmary to see if Chopper had anything for the pain. 

"Nothing ready, I'm sorry!" He had said. "Take a warm shower or bath and change into some dry clothes, and I'll make sure to have it ready by lunchtime!" 

Yup. Great. Thanks Chopper, I look forward to it. 

Gritting your teeth, You step back out of the infirmary and go to the kitchen. Sanji is cooking away, so you try to stay out of his way as you walk to the fridge and put in the passcode, hoping to get a drink. 

Incorrect. 

Okay, maybe you put it in wrong. You tried again. 

Incorrect. 

You're sure you had had it right that time, so you called out to Sanji. 

"Hey, did you change the passcode to the fridge lock?"  

"Hm? Oh, yeah, Luffy figured it out." 

"What's the new one?" 

No answer. 

"Sanji? What's the new passcode?" 

No answer. 

Fine. No drink. Rubbing your temples, you left the kitchen and passed Robin, who was on her way to the library. She told you she'd hang the laundry to dry when the rain stopped. You thanked her again and walked back up the stairs to the observation room, where, upon entering, Zoro turned with weights in hand and accidentally smacked you in the head with one of them with a dizzying amount of force. He called out an apology after you, but by then you had turned around and stumbled down the stairs, falling onto your back in the wet grass in the storm. Headache worsening by the second, it was all you could do to stay conscious, but the icy rain and flashing lightning did well to keep your senses about you. You took a moment there to gather yourself, taking a few deep breaths as you gingerly touched your hand to the lump forming on the side of your head. 

What else could go wrong? You had just thought to yourself, when you had the wind knocked out of you by a foot landing on your solar plexus. Stars in your eyes, gasping for breath, you push yourself to a sitting position to hear Usopp calling out an apology that he hadn't seen you there. 

The deck is not even safe, you thought to yourself. You stand, only to be knocked over by a running Franky, carrying a large barrel of cola. 

It was still storming when you came to. Your head pounding, nauseated, you pushed yourself to your hands and knees, then to standing, wobbling your way back to the girl's quarters. You collapsed on one of the sofas, and your eyes had just slipped back closed when Nami had burst in to complain again, then harped at you about soaking the couch. 

That had all led you to now. 

You're cooped up in the Mini Merry, hugging your knees to the chest. Your hair drips onto your face as you sort through the day so far. It's still storming, and the way the Sunny is swaying is making your stomach churn.

You stay cooped up there until you stop seeing stars, dripping wet, and shivering. Thinking you're safe and alone, you press your forehead into your knees and close your eyes, wanting nothing more than a cold drink, a hot shower, and dry clothes. 

"What are you doing down here? You missed a super breakfast, you know!" Franky steps into view, fixing something in the paneling of the Sunny. You wince when he speaks, your head throbbing with each word. 

"Nothing's happened to me since I came down here," You respond hoarsely. Franky hums, pounding away with a mallet. You decide that the noise is too much and step out of the Mini Merry, hobbling towards the door. 

"Sorry for hitting you with that Cola barrel this morning," he says, putting a few screws in-between his teeth. You laugh dryly, waving him off. 

"That's not the worst thing to ever happen to me, I'll live."

"Oh, Brook told me to tell you he's done in the bath, if I saw you." Franky calls after you. You nod and go back upstairs and outside, hoping you can sneak into the bath without anyone else jumping in front of you. 

The torrential downpour has only gotten worse. You head to the bath, groaning in frustration when Usopp shoots in there before you make it. Well, he's covered in green slime, so you guess that's fair. 

When you walk into the aquarium bar, Sanji, Zoro, and Nami are all there. Nami shoots you a withering look, but you call Sanji's name before she can start. 

He doesn't hear you.

"Sanji! Can you please tell me what the passcode to the fridge is? I really need a drink." 

He's too busy arguing with Zoro. 

You'll just get a glass of water, you decide, and leave the bar to go back to the kitchen. Nami calls out after you that thanks to you, that sofa will probably mold, and buying a new one will definitely come out of your share. You don't answer, not wanting to fight. 

In the safety of the kitchen, you pull a glass out of the cabinet, and you're in the process of filling it when the door opens. Nami and Luffy walk in, Luffy with a big smile on his face. He says your name, grinning widely with a leftover piece of meat from breakfast in his hand. You smile halfheartedly, glancing back over them. 

"We're probably not going to get out of this storm for a while. It's all you can see for miles," Nami snaps. 

You finally snap back, swiveling and throwing the glass of water at her with all your might. She ducks out of the way, looking shocked, and it shatters against the wall behind her. 

"You know what Nami? I'm fucking SORRY I'm not perfect like you!" You yell. Luffy stops smiling, looking between you and his navigator. "I'm fucking sorry I fell asleep, like Zoro doesn't fucking sleep every time HE's on Lookout duty. I'm fucking sorry that I've got your precious couch a little wet, because I'm hurting and fucking exhausted and fucking soaked. I'm fucking sorry that I don't have anything dry to wear because all of MY shit is in the laundry. I'm sooooo fucking sorry that I'm not a perfect pretty little navigator that knows in advance that a huuuuuge fucking storm is on the way, or I obviously would have stayed up aaaaalllll fucking night. I'm fucking sorry, I didn't mean to fall asleep! I'm fucking sorry that all I want is a hot shower, but Brook was taking his time washing his hair, and then of course Usopp shoots in after him covered in a thick green slime, I want something for pain because Zoro fucking accidentally slammed his fucking barbell into my fucking head, and Usopp stepped on my chest, and Franky hit me with a cola barrel, but Chopper doesn't have anything ready yet, and I haven't had anything to fucking eat or drink all fucking morning because Luffy figured out the passcode to the fridge and Sanji has been too fucking busy all morning to tell me the fucking new one. So I'm fucking sorry, can you maybe get that fucking stick out of that perfect ass of yours and STOP BITCHING AT ME!" 

You've drawn a crowd, the rest of the crew peeking in the door wide eyed at your outburst. Breathing heavily, you push past all of them, wobbling your way up the stairs and slam the door to the girls washroom behind you. Tears bubble up in you, and you hack out a few sobs, hugging your knees and burying your face in them.

You're in there so long you go from soaked to damp. By the time you've cried yourself out, your head is pounding so bad that you don't think you can stand on your own. 

There's a knock at the door, and it creaks open. You look up past your knees to see your Captain, the plain expression on his face giving nothing away. You bury your face back in your knees, not saying a word as he closes the door behind him and sits across from you.

"Look at me," He says. You peek out between your legs, and he frowns, reaching out to gently feel the lump on the side of your head. You suck air between your teeth, flinching away from his touch. "Zoro got you good, huh? I bet that hurts."

You nod, more tears welling in your eyes. Before you can start to cry, though, you sneeze, and Luffy cracks a smile. 

"You said you didn't have any clothes. Would you like some of mine until yours are dry?" 

You nod, and he holds out his hand to you. You vision doubles when you try to stand, causing you to stumble into him. 

"Getting hit in the head by Zoro is no joke," Luffy says. You nod again, leaning heavily against him. Luffy decides he doesn't have the patience to walk with you and slings you quickly onto his back. You lean your head against his shoulder, clasping your arms around him. He adjusts his hold on your legs and opens the door. 

It's drizzling outside, now, the relentless storm behind the ship. Luffy carries you down to the men's quarters, humming a pleasant sounding song quietly to himself. When you're in the men's quarters, Luffy sets you down on one of the bunks and opens his locker, rummaging through until he finds one his longer sleeved shirts, and a pair of cutoffs. He hands them to you, telling you to let him know when you're done changing. 

"What should I do with my wet clothes?" You ask. He points to the hamper in the corner of the room and closes the door behind him.

You feel a little better in dry clothes. You teeter back to the door, opening it to come face to face with your captain again. 

"Chopper said the medicine is ready if you are," He says. You nod, wrapping your arms around your Captain. He rests a hand on your back, tilting his head thoughtfully. 

"Are you crying again?" 

"I just don't-" You pause. "I don't think I've got what it takes, Luffy. I don't know if being part of your crew is right for me. I'm not good enough."

"Why do you not like yourself so loudly?" He asks, pulling you back to look at you with a hard expression on his face. "You're just as good as the rest of us. Don't let one bad day ruin you."

"If I hadn't fallen asleep-" 

"Everyone does it," He interrupts. "Besides, you're not a lookout, you're my seamstress and my barber. And you're excellent at those. I asked you to join my crew because you're strong, and you're fun to be around, and you're nice!" 

"I wasn't very nice to Nami just now," You blubber. 

"She wasn't very nice to you, either, from what she told me when I asked her what happened. She feels really bad about it." 

"I threw a glass of water at her!" 

"Zoro and Sanji fight all the time. Everyone isn't going to get along all the time, you know. You know how many times I fought with Ace? Did you know that before you joined Usopp tried to leave the crew, and he and I had a really intense battle? He also thought he wasn't good enough, but he's still here. If you let how you feel about yourself control your life, you'll never be able to go on fun adventures. What's your dream?"

"To see the whole world," You whisper. Luffy grins. 

"Let's go get you that medicine from Chopper. Then, I'll see to it myself that you have a better day from now on, Okay?" 

You nod, wiping your eyes. Luffy takes you to the sick bay, where Chopper gets you all sorted, then to the kitchen, where he jovially asks Sanji to make you a pre-lunch snack. By the time you've had something to eat, you're feeling much better. 

"Luffy, you don't have to hang out with me all day," You punctuate your words with a pull of your sewing needle through the shirt you're fixing for him, glancing at him out of the corner of your eye. He sits perched on the chair next to you, watching you intently. He shakes his head in response to your words. 

"Nope. The only thing I'm doing today is making sure you're okay." 

You pause. Look at him. Look back at the shirt in your hands.

You laugh. 

"Nobody," You say, pulling the thread tight and tying it off. "Has ever cared enough about me to make sure I have a good day all day. When I melt down like that, I'm used to being called crazy and left to my own devices- usually tucked away in a small space or room- until I've calmed down. I've never had anybody want to stay with me to make sure I'm okay." 

"So that's why you locked yourself in the washroom," Luffy hums, scratching his chin like some sage with his eyes closed. He looks at you, and in very Luffy fashion, it is an intense look. You look right back at him. 

"But," He says your name, with such conviction it makes your heart clench. "Nobody should be left alone when they're hurting like that. It's not right." 

"Just because it isn't right doesn't mean it never happens," You respond softly, ghosts from your past glazing your eyes over for a moment. Luffy shakes his head. 

"I'm going to make sure it never happens to you again, at least." He says stubbornly. You look at him, almost in shock, and wonder how on earth this 19 year old made of rubber is able to magically make you feel like you do deserve everything he's saying.

"Well, if you say so," You respond after a while. Luffy grins, plucking the shirt out of your hands when you hold it out to him. 

"This looks brand new!" He exclaims. "I have the best seamstress in the whole world on my crew!" 

"I don't-" 

"The best," He says again, smiling at you. Yet, the look in his eye is intense. "You are the best, and I wouldn't have it any other way." 

You blush, averting your eyes. Luffy follows you around for the rest of the day, hanging off of you like a sloth as you make your way around the ship. By dinnertime, your bad morning is a distant fading memory. 

And you are so lucky to have a Captain like Luffy to make it that way.