#i feel like it's the third time he's skipped out on taking care of him

[tinytrashkid]

badger is currently asleep from weed downstairs. i wonder how many more cuts i can get away with tonight...

[augustinewrites]

your apartment fills with the mouthwatering scents of buckwheat and dashi as you begin to unpack the takeout that's just been delivered. but even with your stomach already growling, you pause, confused.

“kento?” you call to where he’s is leaning against the counter.

“yes, love?”

you count the boxes again, frowning. “why did you order three? is one for your other girlfriend?”

“of course not,” he replies, unfazed by your teasing accusation as he continues to scroll through his tablet. “she doesn't like soba.”

you throw a napkin in his direction when your see the small smirk curling on his lips, shutting off his tablet to look over at you.

you wait, watching him expectantly.

"it's…for yuuji.”

“ah,” you realize, unable to keep from smiling. “your protégé.”

“he’s more like my intern,” he corrects, taking two plates from the cabinet.

you grab a third, following him to the dining table to help him set up. “you fired your last intern because you didn’t like how he organized your files. yet this one is sukuna’s vessel, and you’re bringing him soba.”

nanami pulls out your chair, kissing the top of your head before settling in his own seat. "you don't approve."

"it's not about that. if you say he's not dangerous, of course i believe you.”

he looks at you for a moment, and you can practically see the gears turning in his head as he figures out what to say.

“i just…don’t want him to feel so alone,” he says softly. “you heard about what happened at the detention center. gojo’s trying to hide him from the higher-ups right now, but we don’t know how long that’ll last. he’s just a kid, and gojo’s has a lot going on. so i— i want to look out for him.”

he glances over at the takeout bag, where the third box is sitting. “i may not be able to protect him like gojo can, but i can at least make sure he’s eating.”

you know he’s been exhausted lately. you can see it in the lines on his face and the slight sag of his shoulders when he trudges home at the end of the day.

yet he still finds time to care for a student that’s not his own.

and oh, if that did not make your heart skip a beat, knowing you were loved by a man capable of such care. you can’t help but watch him, almost unable to wrap your head around how lucky you are.

“you’re staring, dear.”

you sigh loudly, rising from your seat to wrap your arms around his shoulders, kissing his cheek. “i think my heart might burst if i find another reason to love you more than i already do.”

he takes your hand, pressing his lips to your engagement ring.

“you love me plenty already. which is why you’ve already set a third plate out to invite yuuji to eat with us, correct?”

_____

“and then nanamin charged in and chopped it up just like this—”

nanami watches you watch yuuji swing a single chopstick menacingly as he recounts their last mission.

“he just charged in, hm?” you ask calmly. “yuuji, you’ll tell me if my fiancé is being reckless, won’t you?”

“yes ma’am!”

the blond sits up, clearing his throat. “surely that’s not necessary.”

“he’s so stubborn, isn’t he?” you ask the boy sitting across from you, even rolling your eyes.

“sure is! he’s pretty bossy too.”

nanami’s scoffs as if he’s annoyed, but secretly…secretly he couldn’t be more pleased.

he’s always wanted to be a lot of things in his life. a good sorcerer, a good employee. a good man.

but all of those things he thought he needed to be to live a full life are irrelevant.

because nothing is more fufilling than being needed and being loved.

[swordsandholly]

Cherry Bomb - tattoo parlor au anthology

MDNI | poly 141 x fem fat reader | masterlist

Part 2: Piercings and Puns

“Pleeaaasse?” Johnny whines, pressing his hands together and giving you the biggest, sparkliest puppy dog look you could imagine.

You roll your eyes. “No.”

“Please! My two o’clock cancelled an’ I’m so bored!” He flops over the counter, arms dangling right above the appointment books. You pointedly ignore the size of his biceps.

“I’m not letting you pierce me just because you’re bored.” You scoff. “Now shoo, Simon’s got an appointment coming in soon.”

“But ye barely have any!” He argues. “All I’m askin’ fer is a wee ear. No’ even a nipple!”

A shocked amalgamation of a bark, laugh, and scoff forces it’s way out of you at that. “It’s still a no!”

Johnny groans, but at least moves away from the counter. Unfortunately, he takes the opportunity to circle around behind you, pinching the cartilage of your ear. “C’mon, ol’ righty’s beggin’ fer a conch.”

The intercom buzzes before you can respond. You swat Johnny away with one hand while pressing the speaker button with the other. “Hello?”

“I’ve go’ an appointment with Ghost.” A man’s voice drifts through. You blink dumbly for half a moment. You still haven’t gotten used to Simon’s social media and booking moniker - he doesn’t like giving his real name out much, apparently.

You buzz him in. Johnny is still hanging around the desk even when you leave to get Simon - making your way down the shirt hall to his studio. The large man stands in front of his stencil maker, back turned to you.

You knock on his door frame quietly. “Your guy’s here.”

“Be out in a moment.” He mumbles, focused on whatever he’s doing. You don’t really know the steps by heart, but you do know that there’s something so special about watching artists perform this repetitive song and dance. This rhythm they know by heart. Skilled hands enacting each step with careful precision.

He’s so hard to read. Big and bulky but calm as the night sea. You want him to like you, but you know badgering him certainly won’t get you there. So, you turn on your heal and head back out. When you return to the front, Johnny’s disappeared back into his room.

You suck your teeth and lean back in the desk chair, rolling your earlobe between your thumb and index finger. It’s not a bad offer, really. You only have two earlobe piercings on each side. Wouldn’t hurt to add a helix… you’ve also wanted to get your thirds done for a while. Work your way up. You glance at the clock. Simon won’t be done with his client for at least an hour or so, and you’ve balanced the registers for the moment. Both Kyle and John are out today, so they won’t need anything.

It wouldn’t hurt… well, not metaphorically.

With a sigh you stand, wandering your way to Johnny’s space. The door’s wide open, and his head snaps up the moment you step close like a sixth sense. “Takin’ me up on my offer, bonnie?”

You roll your eyes. “Guess I am.”

“Whit d’ye want?” Johnny practically skips around his station, pulling out wrapped, sanitized tools and placing them on a rolling tray. He pats the center of the padded table in the middle of the room.

“Uh, been wanting to do my thirds for a while.” You shrug. “If you have time for two.”

“Och, I’ve got all the time in the world fer ye, hen.” Johnny grins, pulling up in front of you and grabbing a marker.

He’s so close as he places the marks on your ears, warm fingers feeling for the best spots. A thumb traces the back of your left ear down just to the beginning of your jaw briefly. Fuck, he smells good. Warm musk with hints of citrus around the edges. The way he tucks your hair back, hands framing your face as he lines up the dots, is so oddly intimate compared to the other times you’ve gotten pierced. He chews at his lip in concentration, pulling at the scar on his chin while turning your head back forth a couple times.

“Think I’ve got it.” He grins and steps back. “Have a look.”

You take the mirror, casually checking but not paying too much attention. You trust him to do right by you. “Looks good.”

“A’right. Now the fun part.” He grins, tearing open the pack of tools and a two new needles.

“Is this fun?” You frown, squirming a little at the size of the needle.

“It’s always fun t’poke a pretty girl.”

You roll your eyes, a growing theme between you two it seems. “Oh, you thought that was real clever, didn’t you? Had that in your pocket a while?”

“Why donnae ye reach in an‘ check?” He murmurs, leaning close to clamp your left ear. You’re half tempted to tell him it’s mean to tease a fat girl like this - but you don’t think he means anything like that by it. He’s just a flirt by nature.

Before you can answer, he shoves the needle through your ear. You stiffen, a strained noise bubbling up out of your throat.

Johnny coos as he slips the earring into your ear. “One doon.”

“Uh-huh.” You sniffle. Not that it hurts badly, just a basic physical reaction. Johnny still gives you an empathetic smile.

The second goes quicker, Johnny locked in on his work. It’s interesting, seeing how intense they get. You Is it odd to wish someone would look at you like that? With that much focus and passion?

“There ye go…good girl.” He murmurs in that deep rumble that would have you squirming if you didn’t still have a needle through your ear. “Doin’ so good f’me...”

“You’re a devil, MacTavish.”

Johnny just chuckles, knowing full well exactly what he’s doing. He steps back to look at the final result after slipping the second stud into your ear. They feel hot - like two small ovens on either side of your head.

“If it weren’t for the piercings I’d think ye were blushing, hen.”

“You’re gonna get yourself slapped one of these days.” You scoff, sliding off the table.

“Wouldnnae be the first time.”

You find yourself rolling your eyes for the millionth time.

You grunt, squatting low in an attempt to pick the last of the parlor trash. It’s not that you mind, trash was part of your duties from the start, but holy shit do these boys put bricks in their bins? You’d think tattoos would make light trash. Especially after the sharps are disposed of separately.

“Solid?” Simon appears in the hall, eyes flicking over you. You still can’t tell how he feels about you. Neutral, you suppose. At least that’s all you can glean from behind his seemingly permanent black surgical mask.

“Ya.” You sigh, letting the bag drop and leaning back to stretch. “Just heavy. Swear y’all aren’t throwing rocks in these just to fuck with me?”

You give him a grin. Simon just cocks an eyebrow - exaggerated by the small piercing lining it. You think, maybe the slight shaking of his shoulder is a laugh. In combination won’t he crinkles in the corners of his eyes. Maybe not.

“‘ere.” Simon grunts, closing the short distance between you quickly before snatching up the bag like it weighs almost nothing.

You stutter, following after him toward the back exit. “You don’t have to-“

“Not a problem.” He grunts, tossing the thing over the side of the bin. He quietly leads you back inside, locking the door behind you “Johnny go’ you already?”

When you frown in confusion he points to his ears.

“Oh! Yeah.” You shrug, leading the way back to front desk to finish up your closing duties. “He’s insistent. I’d wanted them for a while anyway so I figured there’s no harm.”

“Give ‘im an inch...” He sighs, pointing to the black bar bridge piercing at the apex of his nose. “Somehow talked me into this shite.”

You tilt your head. “Yeah? I think it suits you.”

It really does. You can’t see most of his nose form under the mask but the arc of it leading up to bridge is strong, the piercing settling into the space nicely.

Simon breaks the silence. “You about done?”

“Almost. Just gotta check the ATM against the book real quick.” You nod.

He stares down at you for a moment, glancing out the semi-opaque window, now black with the night sky. There aren’t many street lamps on this side of town. You can only see a very faint glow from the one down by the car park.

“I’ll wait.” Simon settles his wide frame into Kyle’s usual chair.

“Oh! No you don’t have to! I’m sure you’re tired-“

“Wouldn’t feel right leavin’ you alone in the dark.” He cuts you off.

“It’s not a far walk-“

He scoffs. “Definitely not leaving you to walk alone.”

You sink your teeth into your lip, debating briefly on arguing. Based on his comfortable lean and crossed arms, it’s probably best to just let him walk you home. He looks so wide like that, veins prominent across his forearms. Fuck, you gotta find a boyfriend or booty call or something in this city. Anything to stop the temptation to stare at your hot coworkers.

It doesn’t take long to finish up your final chores. You turn all but one light off, wiring down from the bright overheads glaring at you all day. You glance over at Simon a few times while locking up the ATM, his covered face lit up by the light of his phone.

He leads you out of the shop once you’re finished, locking the door behind you and trying it a couple times to be sure. “Which way?”

“Uh, down here. It’s only twenty minutes.” You murmur, feeling guilty that you’ve kept him out extra late. You shove your hands in your hoodie pockets as you walk, the only sound on the street made up of your footsteps and some distant cars.

“What falls but never gets hurt?” Simon asks suddenly.

You frown. “Huh?”

“What falls but never gets hurt?”

You squint at him, trying to decipher anything from his face in the low light. You get nothing but a calm, warm gaze resting on you.

His eyes crinkle in the corners again. “Rain.”

“Pffft-“ You choke, caught off guard. “That’s such a lame pun.”

“Oh? I’ve got a better one.” Simon says, a smirk in his tone. “Why’d the mother clam scold her children?”

You chew your lip. God, you’re too literal to be clever enough for stupid puns and riddles. It doesn’t help that your head is spinning from this brick shithouse, incredibly attractive and intimidating man spitting popsicle puns at you.

“They were being shellfish.”

“Oh fuck off!” You shove at his arm playfully without thinking. He gives, let’s you push him slightly before you stiffen. “S-sorry! I don’t-“

“Nothin’ to apologize for.” The corners of his eyes crinkle deeper. Yeah, definitely a smile. You answer it with one of your own.

[sideysvault]

𐙚⋆° Convincing Deadpool that you like his face just as it is𐙚⋆°

Pairing: Wade Wilson x fem!reader

Friends to lovers. 500 wc

Warnings: Foul language

────────

- His morals had been down ever since he got rejected from the avengers. And as much as you tried to support his attempts at having a “normal” life, you couldn’t help but notice he was trying to hide and make himself smaller. You couldn’t stand it. You missed the man he used to be. The man you couldn’t help but have a massive crush on.

- Deadpool and you met fairly recently, but you clicked immediately. There was something about Wade’s personality that went really well with yours. You always knew you’d be in trouble if you two got close. You couldn’t help but be overly attracted by his unexpected acts of kindness, his loyalty, his humor and, of course, how his red suit tightly hugged his body.

-Even if you knew that he was going through a rough patch, you never expected it to go this far. You tried so hard to contain the snort that came out of you when you saw his “hair system”. And you failed miserably.

“You are a cruel, motherfucker. I hate you”

“Wade, baby. A wig?”

“It’s not a wig! It’s a hair system”

“Ok, sure. But you don’t need it. You know that, right?”

“I’m in sales for fucks sake. I’ll starve to death if I don’t wear this shit”

“Fuck. Them. Plus, A summer balayage it’s so not your style anyway

- Having dinner at his place had become a normal occurrence. Al would even sometimes join the two of you. And you couldn’t help but notice that he is always overly careful. Wade only lifts his mask enough for him to be able to eat. At the end of a particularly fun night (And, after having a couple of beers) You encourage him to take it out. All the way. You reall don’t mind.

“No, Cupcake. I don’t want you to choke on your food and die by shock. Imagine a third degree burn victim that somehow got Proctitis on their face. That’s me”

Your heart skipped a bit. Something turned in your stomach. The sudden feeling that he wasn’t really joking over you came all over your body. You were almost sure that your heart just broke a little bit. But you try not to push him too much.

You get up and come closer to him. You took all the courage you could mustard and gave him a little kiss on the right side of his chin. One of the few spots of his damaged skin that you’d seen

“I dunno. Seems pretty okay to me”

He lifted his gaze at you. Even with the mask on, you could tell he felt some sense of evasive curiosity. And just as you were starting to worry that you had gone too far… A cocky smile appeared on his face as he said “You can be sweet. Big time. Who would’ve guessed”

You mirrored his smile. And, God. You looked gorgeous. Wade always thought he never stood a chance. He wasn’t easy to be around, let alone love. But after all, the woman might just feel the same way he does.

That day, a beam of hope lingered over the two of you.

────────

Notes: Based on this request!. I might rewrite this very soon, life has been a bit more hectic than usual -Sidey x

[pshcomforts]

➳ spring snow | psh.

bestfriend!sunghoon x fem!reader

“cause i’m falling slowly in love with you”

synopsis: you came down with a cold and your best friend, sunghoon, has offered to take care of you.

warnings/content: written in third pov. fluffy fluff! tiny bit of angst. best friends to lovers. a little bit of idiots in love. nicknames like ‘idiot’ ‘dummy’ and ‘loser’ used. down bad sunghoon <3

comments, likes, and reposts are appreciated :)

word count: 4.6k

a/n: self-indulgent bc i’m sick right now, and currently obsessed with lovely runner </3

༘˚⋆𐙚｡masterlist⋆.✧˚

current song playing: spring snow by 10cm

↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺

0:39 ───|──────────────── 2:42

a cough erupted out of y/n as she fought for her life. her nose was stuffy, and her throat was aching from the cold she randomly caught.

she heavily sighed, cursing to herself for missing an important lecture.

“i should’ve gone..,” she softly whimpered.

as she fumed a little longer, a sudden notification had caught her attention.

sunghoon <3:

Where are you?

Are you running late?

panic spread across her face when she read her best friends texts, quickly typing back with quiet coughs leaving her throat.

y/n:

sorry, hoon! i’m actually not feeling good so i decided to skip the lecture for today…

sunghoon <3:

Are you lying, or are you really sick?

y/n:

why would i lie to you about this..

sunghoon <3:

So you don’t have to hear my scolding? 😒

y/n:

i swear, sunghoon, i’m sick! do you want me to send an audio of me coughing or something..

sunghoon <3:

.. No

the girl breathed out a laugh once she found no more texts from him. she widely grinned as she thought about the handsome boy, easily imagining his displeased look in her head.

her heart fluttered and butterflies erupted in her stomach. she fisted her hands to stop the sensations forming around her body as she shook it off.

“stop it, y/n, he’s just a friend.” she murmured to herself, unable to make the imaginary hoon in her head disappear.

“this cold is really getting to me…,”

y/n huffed out a sigh before wrapping herself in her warm blankets.

“maybe a nap will do..,” her voice squeaked, body already falling on borderline exhaustion. she yawned out a little more before resting her eyes and eventually knocking out.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

about a half hour had just passed and the girl was still sound asleep when a few knocks had been heard at the door.

she grumbled out a sigh before checking the time.

“who’d even be here at this time?” she sighed, still finding the sun brightly beaming down on every view she could find.

the knocks had been heard again and she quickly checked to see if anything could be related to whatever was outside. indeed, she found a few missed texts from her beloved friend.

sunghoon <3:

Open the door

Are you asleep??

Hello..?

she exhaled a breath as her stomach flooded with nervous bubbles.

“why is he here..?” she muttered under her breath.

the girl dusted herself, and though she was sure she still looked like a train wreck, she couldn’t be too bothered with how much her sickness took over.

she slowly cracked the door open and found an adorable sunghoon patiently waiting.

“finally!” he shouted. “took you long enough, i was almost gonna call you.”

maybe not that patient.

y/n scrunched her brows in confusion. “why are you even here, hoon?”

his heart slightly dropped at her questioning, but he only nervously laughed it away.

“you’re sick, dummy. you need to be taken care of.” sunghoon murmured, pinching one side of her cheeks.

she quickly swatted the hand away as she still remained puzzled.

“you’re gonna take care of me?” her voice mumbled, causing him to shyly nod. “but you never do this..?”

hoon only sighed as he joked, “well do you want me to leave? because i still can.”

“no, no.. i’m just a little shocked right now.”

y/n’s heart was about to burst. he was fueling her delusions about the potential thought of them being together, and she wasn’t sure if she liked it or not.

she heard him give a chuckle when he set his backpack down. “i care about you, y/n. are you that shocked?” his simple grin sent heart throbs, making her tired body tingle even more.

“well you always tease and make fun of me so.. yeah, i’m shocked.”

the girl sniffed away her snot that ran down from her cold as he laughed again.

“don’t be too surprised that i’m a caring person.” sunghoon uttered, shaking his head while hiding his huge smile away. “i’m usually nice to you anyway.”

y/n guffawed out a scoff, sending a soft smack towards his arm as she muttered, “yeah right! you weren’t nice when i asked for the lecture notes 40 minutes ago, and you said no!”

the male giggled as he thought back to their texts, heart melting at his friends stuffy voice. “well who told you to stay home? that lecture was really important!” he teased back, lips instantly curling at her gasp and eye roll.

“if you’re just here to bicker with me then please leave, hoon. i’m too sick to argue.” she huffed, shaking her head.

“okay, okay, fine, i’m sorry.” he slightly pouted, causing her to softly smile. “i really am here to take care of you though.”

sunghoon ruffled her hair, letting it run messy everywhere as his eyes twinkled in the scene of his friend struggling to leave his teasing act. his lips coiled again, unable to hide his facial expressions with how much he adored her.

“sunghoon!” the girl yelled, pushing his hand away.

his heart pounded at the sound of his name leaving her lips, making him stop the ruffles.

“your friend is sick and you’re really doing this to her!”

hoon chuckled at her words before the word — ‘friend’ — hit him. his heart stung a little and he retracted himself back, officially putting a stop to all of the teasings as y/n still huffed with hair pieces around her face.

“can i go back to sleep now?” she mumbled, throat immediately running dry.

sunghoon clicked his tongue, shaking his head while replying, “what’s the point of me being here if you’re just gonna sleep?”

“you volunteered to be here!”

“exactly, which is why you need to stay out here while i reheat my moms soup for you!”

the girl wore a frown, but her stomach betrayed her when it rumbled at the mention of food, causing her friend to chortle out a laugh.

“see? your stomach wants me to stay.”

he wore a shit eating grin, making y/n playfully roll her eyes and nudge him. “now go stay on the couch, i’ll reheat it up for you.” he sweetly muttered like a boyfriend.

her heart instantly raced and a few coughs suddenly bursted from her as the thought of him being a well-mannered boyfriend flooded her mind.

“get a hold of yourself, idiot.” she said under her breath.

“did you say something??”

her head whipped up at sunghoon and she quickly shook her head. “no! um.. just don’t burn my kitchen down… please.. i know you suck at cooking.”

he scoffed out a ridiculed laugh. “it’s just reheating soup, how bad can that get?”

bad, because within seconds, the boy let the pot heat up on the stove too long, making the cold soup instantly smoke up when he added it in.

the alarms rang off the hook and y/n’s ears rang like crazy; and if that wasn’t enough, sunghoons deep voice screaming at the steam was the cherry on top.

“sunghoon!!” she shouted, giving a faint scold as she fanned beneath her smoke detectors.

his cheeks flushed and his ears instantly became red while he stood in the kitchen like a six year old getting yelled at.

“sorry…,” his soft voice murmured, feeling self-conscious with the way he embarrassed himself in front of his friend.

“i didn’t know there was a time limit with how long the pot had to heat up…,”

y/n huffed out a sigh, instantly dropping her slight annoyance when she came face to face with the boy who was softly pouting. a laugh escaped from her and she only shook her head.

“you’re an idiot, you know that?” she joked, causing a faint grin to be placed on him. “of course it’s gonna smoke when you leave it on high heat for 10 minutes.”

“stop it, y/n… i’m embarrassed, you don’t have to acknowledge what i did wrong.” sunghoon covered his face with his hands, blocking off every facial feature but his ears that were still brightly colored red.

the girl chuckled, grin widening as her sickness almost left her when he remained shy in his actions.

“i don’t know if i should trust you in my kitchen ever again..,”

hoon rolled his eyes and smiled. “okay, it wasn’t even that bad!”

“you literally set off my smoke alarms!”

“okay.. but nothing caught on fire!”

y/n shook her head, hearty coughs still leaving her throat as she heaved her chest up and down.

“you were supposed to take care of me, but stressed me out instead!”

he seethed air through his teeth in guilt, head low while he chewed on his lips. “sorry…,” the male muttered. “i swear i was trying so hard not to do anything that’d make you get up!”

she laughed at his words and replied, “that’s sweet of you, hoon, but you did.”

“i know…, i’m still embarrassed.”

he placed his hands over his face once more, but peeked his eyes through separated fingers to catch her reaction. y/n wore a huge smile, eyes creasing into half moon crescents that caused butterflies to flutter in his stomach.

he softened his gaze once he felt it and they instantly twinkled with a deep warmth that was only for her.

the remaining words that spewed out of the girl had quickly been deafened as he continued to stare at her, making her snap at him — “sunghoon?? did you even hear me?”

“oh.. um… yes!” he tried to cheese a grin, but she obviously wasn’t convinced.

“and what did i say..?”

“something about… your cold being worse..?”

he pressed his lips into a firm line, forming a bread smile as her tongue clicked in disappointment.

“you weren’t listening.., what’s even distracting you?”

her, but he couldn’t say that.

y/n folded her arms while she awaited for an answer, making him gulp.

first, he invited himself inside. second, he almost burned down her kitchen. and now, he wasn’t even processing whatever she had to say.

“um..,” he swallowed down a lump in his throat, trying to find whatever could be distracting. “your snot, y/n! it’s uh.. dripping! yeah, that!”

the girl felt her heart drop and she immediately ran around to find tissues. what dumb luck did hoon have that she actually was dripping with snot?

he breathed out a sigh of relief, hand clenching onto his chest with how close he was to getting caught.

y/n quickly came back, cheeks slightly tinted pink. “back to what i was saying… how about i just heat up the soup myself?” she suggested, causing him to widen his eyes and shake his head.

“no, you’re sick. i can’t have you walking around when you should be resting.”

her brows scrunched and her head slightly tilted as a soft laugh escaped from her. “hoon.. you literally made me run around my apartment to stop the alarms…,”

sunghoon thought back to her constant feet pattering he heard not too long ago, and sighed. “anymore. i won’t have you walking around anymore,” he firmly corrected himself.

she took a sigh as well, finally falling to defeat as he proudly pushed her toward her couch.

“don’t stress about it.., soup will be in your much-needed tummy soon!”

y/n couldn’t help but feel a little uneasy at his words, but eventually let him continue with how eager he was to do something so sweet.

with the man in the kitchen, she felt her pupils dilate whenever she laid her eyes on him, heart almost jumping out of her throat with how quick it was beating.

sunghoon was instantly looking like a boyfriend to her, and she couldn’t fight those thoughts anymore — his tall figure, the oversized hoodie perfectly fitting him, his pretty face gleaming at the bubbling pot.

of course, he did almost burn down her kitchen, but he was redeeming himself right now.

the girl was almost soaring with how much she was falling for him. though she was still fighting for her life, sunghoon being there for her was already making her feel better — even if he stressed her out for a second.

but she swiftly shook it off once the friend had turned around with a proud look spread across his face.

“it’s done! this soup will instantly make you feel better when you eat it.” he murmured, lips still curling at his final success attempt of reheating his moms soup.

y/n softly reflected his grin back as she sat across from him. “your mom’s the best, hoon!” she quickly dug in, heart melting and tummy warming at the soothing broth.

sunghoon tried to hide away his obvious beam but couldn’t help it. his eyes were glistening, his fangs were flashing, and his mind was going crazy with the girl he liked in front of her.

was this how it’d always be if she got sick, and he’d offer to take care of her? (yes)

his heart swelled with the possible future in his hands as the girl continued to eat.

“you don’t want to eat any?” she murmured, but he fully shook his head and pushed the bowl further to her — “it’s all yours, loser. my mom packed it specifically for you.”

she quietly coughed at the sudden nickname, scowling back a look while he only chuckled.

“you didn’t think i’d grow a soft spot for you just because you got sick, did you?” he teased mercilessly.

y/n playfully rolled her eyes before going back to chomping. typical sunghoon. one minute he was sweet, the next he was just a guy who loved to tease a little too much.

he continued to wear a huge grin though as she munched, making the girl fully unaware of how much love he held in his eyes.

once her stomach was full, hoon forced her to sit on the couch with a blanket wrapped around while he cleaned the dishes.

the feeling of him taking care of her was strange, but she liked it. it was something she could get use to if he liked her back (idiot).

when sunghoon finished, he plopped directly next to her on the couch with an idiotic grin, eyes full of hearts and stomach bubbled from feeling nervous.

“um, sunghoon?” y/n poked. “shouldn’t you sit a little further away? i can get you sick.”

he scoffed and laughed as if she told the funniest joke ever. “if i didn’t want to risk getting sick, i wouldn’t have chosen to come over… dummy.” he chuckled at the name he gave her while rubbing her cheek with his thumb.

“do you want me to move?”

her face instantly flushed with a hue of pink and she subtly tried to turn away from it. “no.. you can stay if you want.”

“do you want me to stay?”

sunghoon’s heart quickly thumped with every surge of confidence he got from her shy reactions.

his eyes flickered at her turned head, tilting his own in confusion before muttering, “are you that sick that you can’t look at me?”

“i can! my throat’s just.. itchy so i don’t want to cough in your face,” she tried to shoot back.

he huffed out a slight laugh at her lame attempt of an excuse. “is it that hard to stare at my handsome face?” he asked, knowing that she’d face him right after.

“what!” y/n’s hoarse voice spoke. “i can!”

she quickly laid her eyes back onto him and almost instantly, the two felt their hearts explode with fireworks.

sunghoon took a noticeably large gulp, blinking repeatedly with how quick their nose tips touched. she was much closer than she should’ve been, and the boy was flustered.

“y/n.. you’re um…,” he swallowed another lump, adams apple bobbing as every butterfly in his stomach multiplied.

“see! i can look at you!” she yelled, honestly unaware of how flushed her friend was becoming.

“yeah, you win.” he replied, nudging her forehead away before she could hear his loud heartbeats.

hoon held onto his chest, trying to calm his nerves when y/n only clicked her tongue.

“tried to challenge me but lost instead.. idiot.” she mumbled to herself, giving crunchy coughs afterward.

a grin plastered onto his face after her words processed. “yeah.. i lost” — but he didn’t, because he felt like a winner with how close her nose tip accidentally grazed over his.

he bit his bottom lip to hide away another smile as he muttered, “i think it’s time for you to take some medicine.”

y/n’s face scrunched in disgust. “i know i’m sick, but i hate taking cough syrup.”

“well you need it because you’re coughing like you’re on your death bed.”

an audible gasp was heard from her and she quickly smacked his arm. “sunghoon!” she yelled, earning a laugh from him.

“i’m just stating the obvious!”

he flashed a heart-throbbing grin and she almost melted at it, vision quick to lose sight with how alarmingly charming it was.

“you didn’t need to say that..,” she scowled.

his fangs were still brightly shown as he murmured, “come on, just take the medicine. it’ll benefit you.”

his hands offered a cup of the cough syrup that y/n hated. she downed it quickly but her lips pursed together like she tasted lemon.

sunghoon hollered out another laugh, eyes squeezing shut at how she shook her head in disapproval.

“that was gross!!” she exclaimed, making happy tears well up in the boy. “stop making fun of your sick friend, she doesn’t appreciate it, you know?”

he continued his laughing streak until he deemed it enough, wiping away a tear drop as he watched y/n roll her eyes.

“okay, sorry, hoon is acknowledging that.” he replied, giving a little play on her third person usage.

her lips coiled into a smile as she sent another soft hit to him. “you’re stupid.”

“and you’re sick, so get back in your blankets.”

before she could protest, sunghoon was quick to wrap it around her, giving her no time to react at the way his arms enclosed them together.

he tugged the sheets around her shoulders, gaze completely concentrated on the amount of blankets that covered her.

his face was leaned in, close to the point where her lips could ghost over his cheeks for a soft peck.

she felt her face heat up at the very thought, mind instantly craving for that moment while she watched his thick, dark brows scrunch for complete focus. she couldn’t help but linger her gaze down to his other pretty features.

being this close to her handsome friend felt mind numbingly crazy.

when the boy had finished, he gleamed a half smile before pulling away, proud of how he was able to ensure every blanket had securely been wrapped around her.

she quietly gasped for air after hoon’s brows raised in satisfaction of his work. “there! now you’re warm!” his voice yelled. “you can go to sleep now.”

y/n flickered her gaze to him, watching the way he softly patted his shoulder. she let a puff of air slip by her lips in disbelief as she shoved him.

“why are you being so sweet right now?”

was it not obvious to her that he wanted to feel her rest her head on his shoulder?

sunghoon’s lips pursed together while trying to find the right words. “you’re sick, y/n, why wouldn’t i be sweet right now?” he awkwardly laughed, stomach rupturing in butterflies. “i don’t want my friend to get bad treatment while she’s sick.”

he cheesed a grin and she only shook her head, eventually complying to his offer and laying on his shoulder.

his heart instantly raced at the little bump her head made against him, and he couldn’t help the huge smile that took form on his face from it.

“what should we watch?” y/n mumbled, unconsciously cuddling closer.

“what are you feeling?” sunghoon softly gulped as he forced his attention to stay on the device in front of them.

“mm..,” she thought. “oh! wanna watch lovely runner??”

he raised his brows in confusion. “lovely.. runner?”

“hoon, you need to watch more series…,” she scowled back at him. “let’s watch it!”

the boy was about to make a remark but stopped himself, agreeing with her suggestion since it was her sick day after all.

the drama played, episode after episode as the two stayed glued on the couch, holding each other close — both forgetting that they were just friends.

when another episode had finished, sunghoon’s eyes carefully watched the end credits. he chuckled, excited to start on the next one.

“should we watch another?” he murmured, waiting for an answer when nothing from y/n had been heard.

another minute passed and soft snores had finally erupted out of her.

he scoffed out a laugh, lips quickly curling at her quiet noises before turning his head.

“you’re really asleep?” the boy said, voice kept small to not wake her.

in seconds, the episode was paused and sunghoon carried his sick friend to her bed with ease.

laying her down carefully, his movements were slow and steady. the only thing audible were y/n’s continuous little snores and hoon’s heavy breathing.

the girl was finally set down, wrapped in blankets as he glanced at her state. his heart was pounding in his ears and his fingernails were scratching his palms to calm himself.

even when she was sickly pale, she was still someone who caught his attention timelessly. he loved her, and every little thing that complimented with him.

his lips curled at her, gaze softening as he quietly murmured, “i like you, dummy. can’t you notice me?”

sunghoon sighed, feeling stupid at how he confessed to his friend who still remained asleep. his heart began to shatter, shards painfully stabbing him as he started to head for the door.

however, a hand grab was quick to stop him, holding him back from moving any further. his heart dropped at the fast realization, mind instantly going through scenarios of y/n rejecting him.

slowly, he turned with a fragile mindset, ready to be declined from his crush.

“y/n…,” the male gulped.

she only beamed a half smile when she sat up as her eyes still drooped in fatigue. “i do notice you, loser.” she admitted with flushed cheeks. “because i like you too.. i like you a lot, actually.”

hoon’s face lit up in shock, eyes being blown wide as he felt adrenaline rush through his body. “you like me??” he questioned, falling in disbelief of her words.

y/n bit her lips, hiding away her smile while nodding. “i’ve liked you for a while now… and honestly, you taking care of me made me fall in love with you even more.”

her gaze trailed up to his face, watching how he proudly wore his wide grin made her heart flutter.

“stop looking at me like that..,” she uttered, softly pushing his shoulder, but he couldn’t help it. the girl he’s longed for finally said the words he’s been wanting to hear.

sunghoon flashed his charming fangs at her as he smiled in delight. “what else can i do? my friend’s in love with me.”

“i said like, not love!” she defended.

“i heard love…,” he teased back, causing her to scoff and roll her eyes.

he gave another chuckle before leaning in, lips yearning for hers when she dodged away.

his head tilted in confusion and she only laughed at that. “i’m still sick, hoon. i don’t want to get you sick.” y/n muttered, earning a ridiculed taunt to come from him.

“you think i care about that? the girl i’ve loved for so long has just confessed to me so i’m gonna kiss her.”

sunghoon quickly leaned in again, close to kissing a flustered y/n when she pulled away once more. he softly pouted, face frowning as his gaze stay locked on her lips.

“sunghoon,” she called, but he didn’t answer. the boy continued to be mindlessly stuck on the sight of her lips.

she sent a soft hit to his broad chest, finally catching his attention as his eyes grew hungry.

“i seriously don’t want to get you sick,” she mumbled, face scrunching to emphasize her worry.

hoon only scoffed, biting his lips as he replied — “and i seriously don’t care.”

before she could say more, he swiftly crashed his lips against hers, swooning the girl in seconds. she gasped, earning an entrance for sunghoon as he smiled against her — enjoying the shocked reaction he was able to receive.

his hands firmly held her cheeks, cupping them so she could stay put while she held onto his arms, softly gripping onto his hoodie with the evidential crave in his kiss.

y/n finally pushed against his chest, giving him the signal to pull away and he did. his face continued to linger near hers, eyes searching for flushed cheeks.

“sunghoon!” she quietly scolded, earning a chuckle from his attractive voice.

she felt his lips softly curl against hers and she couldn’t help but to smile as well.

“now you’re gonna get sick.”

her gaze peered into his, making his heart melt while he raised his brows. “i guess you’ll have to be the one to take care of me now.”

he grinned as she rolled her eyes, cupping her cheeks once more for sweet kisses on the lips. he gave soft pecks, continuing on and on before y/n turned her head away.

“i know you like me, but i’m still sick! don’t kiss me right now.” she huffed, trying to swat him away.

sunghoon chuckled. “you should’ve told me that minutes ago, now i don’t want to stop kissing you.”

he leaned in again but the girl dodged her head away. “no, sunghoon!!” she giggled, attempting to push at his chest.

“just one!”

y/n sighed before complying, pushing herself closer for a soft peck on the lips.

“one more?”

her face morphed in disbelief, eventually leaning in for another. a quick plant on his lips was made and he only smiled.

“another?”

“hoon… no.” she folded her arms and shook her head. “my throat is hurting and i’m about to cough if i lean in again.”

sunghoon raised his thick brows mischievously. “so i’ll lean in then.” and so he tried, closing his eyes and expecting a kiss on the lips when he met her cheek instead.

“why don’t you want to kiss your new boyfriend?” he softly whined, becoming clingy within seconds.

y/n scrunched her face as she grinned and nudged him. “because your new girlfriend is sick and wants to rest.”

his lips pushed together and presented duck lips, pouting while wrapping his arms around her. “fine then, let’s rest, hm?” he murmured.

the two laid beside each other, facing one another as his eyes twinkled with love, mind in complete disbelief of how he was able to get his girl.

“i’m so lucky,” his voice uttered in the silence.

“hm?” sleepy y/n replied back.

“i’m lucky you fell in love with me.”

“and i’m lucky you loved me back, and also didn’t burn down my kitchen.” she murmured, voice almost gone from her cold.

sunghoon chuckled and let a huge grin plaster onto his face as he leaned in once more, placing a longing kiss on the tip of her nose.

“get to sleep, pretty girl.” he whispered.

y/n yawned, nodding her head and complying without an insult with how exhausted she was.

he pulled her closer into his arms, engulfing her into his soothing embrace as he muzzled his head on top of hers.

she breathed in his scent, feeling at home when she easily rested her hands at his chest.

the two cuddled, holding each other close to their dearest hearts with a new relationship that just unfolded.

✩ ‘all my life is you’ ✩

★・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・★

[idleoblivion]

"You Don't Want to See Me Like This" - Vil Schoenheit x GN Reader

Synopsis: You were spiraling and you knew it, skipping classes, not taking care of yourself and ignoring your friends in favor of rotting in bed. You didn’t want anybody to see you in this state, least of all your perfect boyfriend.

Word Count: ~1k

A/N: Crazy how fast I go from writing smut to comfort fics lol. First time writing Vil sorry if he's ooc.

Warnings: Vague description of poor mental health, he comforts you

The first knocks on your door you ignore entirely, not moving an inch from your position curled up under your blankets. The second time, you do move, but only to check your phone for any messages from Ace or Deuce saying they were coming. They had been the most adamant about trying to reach you, with Ace sending you sarcastic messages and memes to get your attention while Deuce opted for more genuine “Hey, it’s been a minute, you alright?” and “I hope you feel better soon!” texts. You loved them, truly you did, but you were in no mood to talk to them. You couldn’t remember how many days it’s been since you’ve seen them in person.

The third knocks are louder and impatient. You sigh and close your eyes again. As you're preparing to reach for the earbuds on your nightstand to tune them out, the voice you hear from the other side of the door stops you in your tracks.

“I know you can hear me, potato. And you know I don’t appreciate being ignored.”

Your eyes shoot open again. You weren’t expecting him at all.

It’s not like you thought Vil wouldn’t notice. He was always very attuned to what you were feeling, it was something you loved about him. Somehow you had gotten lucky, with his schedule apparently being even busier than usual you had managed to evade him. But he was here now, and clearly not happy. You know he cares dearly for you, but still you didn’t know how to talk to him about everything going on in your head right now. Not when he seemed to handle every problem he had with ease, while you were just wallowing in your misery. Not when he was this emblem of beauty and grace, not when he wouldn’t be caught dead looking like you did right now.

You sit up and turn your head to look at yourself in the mirror. You haven’t showered or brushed your hair and it shows. The circles under your eyes are darker than you’ve ever seen them. You had been completely neglecting the skin care routine Vil picked out especially for you for several days, and you were sure he would be able to tell.

“Vil…I’m alright, I just don’t feel well. I’m tired, and I’m trying to rest.”

“According to your friends, it’s been nearly two weeks that you haven’t been feeling well. Either you’re lying to me, or you need to go to the infirmary this instant.” You could picture the frown on his face and crease in his brow just from his tone.

You don’t answer him. You silently curse Ace and Deuce for getting him involved, wishing your bed would just swallow you whole so you could avoid this conversation. He stays quiet too for a moment. You hear him sigh before he continues.

“I…I’m not trying to patronize you. Please just let me in, I need to see you.” His voice turns almost pleading at the end, surprising you. He never pleaded or begged for anything.

“You don’t want to see me like this, Vil.” Your resolve was weakening hearing how worried he actually sounded, but you were still so ashamed of your current appearance. What would he think if he saw you? Would he feel pity, maybe even disgust? You didn’t want either of those reactions from him.

“You can’t say that. You can’t tell me how or when I want to see you.”

Another minute or two of silence passes, and you realize he really isn’t going anywhere. You drag yourself up out of bed and to your door and hesitantly unlock it. You walk back to your bed and plop down again before saying “Come in.”

He opens the door gently, eyes immediately fixated on you. He takes in your disheveled self and looks around your room for a moment too. You hadn’t even realized how messy it was until he was looking around, laundry and other junk left lying out in the open. Another wave of shame washed over you.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry-” You start to choke up as you put your head in your hands, but he interrupts you.

“No, I’m sorry. I’m the one who needs to apologize.” You look back up at him confused. He’s looking at you, but you don’t feel the judgment in his gaze you were anticipating. He’s looking at you gently, fondly even, and that alone nearly makes you cry.

“I’ve been preoccupied with the production the Film Studies club is working on, and I seem to have neglected something much more important." He approaches you and offers you his hand, which you take. He holds your hand tenderly and continues. “It’s my duty to notice things like this, and I’ve let this go on too long already. What can I do for you, love? What can I do to help?”

The tears that had been welling up finally start falling, and he brings his other hand to cradle your face lovingly. You stay like that together for a few moments, with you crying and him just holding you.

Through sniffles, you tell him “I don’t know. I want to feel better, but I don’t, I don’t know I just-” you cut yourself off with another sob. He nods his head like he understands. He seems to stop and process an idea before he stands up.

“Well, looking better may help you feel better. Come with me, back to Pomefiore. Bring some pajamas, we’ll run you a bath and have a self care night together. I’ve got some new products I’ve been wanting to test that we can try out.” He smiles at you and beckons for you to stand with him. You do, and nod at him as you try to calm yourself down more. “Y-yeah, that might be nice.” You hold your arms out, asking for a hug and he obliges immediately. 

He holds you tightly before speaking to you softly. “You don’t need to keep things from me, you know. I’d much rather hear about how you’re doing from you than those other potatoes.” You let out a small laugh, which makes him grin. “Can you promise you’ll come to me next time?”

“Okay, I promise. Especially if it gets you to spoil me like this.”

“It’s not spoiling, love. It’s just what you deserve.” He kisses your forehead before you walk out of your room together, still holding his hand.

[tabbedtabby]

good luck, babe! | chapter 1

regina george x reader

summary: After the Queen Bee of North Shore makes up rumors about you taking pictures of girls in the changing room, you decide to take matters into your own hands. You didn’t think that would mean coming to a reluctant agreement with Regina George.

a/n: if you couldn’t tell from the title, this fic is inspired by “good luck, babe!” by chappell roan. if you’ve never heard it, definitely check it out. updates will most likely be weekly. i don’t know how some of y’all have the time to update every day lol. as a general warning for the whole fic, it will contain homophobia, derogatory language, substance abuse, and unhealthy relationships. other than that thank you for reading and i hope you enjoy this first chapter!!

—————————————————————

Entering your third year of high school, you assumed you knew everything there was to know about North Shore.

Well, at least, how to steer clear of infamy. More specifically, Regina George and her shadows that followed her around like a pair of lost dogs. You knew the trouble and attention they brought with them, a constant trail of destruction that was almost as potent as the stench of their perfume. The secret to avoiding it was as simple as straying from the limelight. You kept to your group, stayed quiet, kept your head down. Didn’t do anything wild enough to trigger Regina’s predatory instincts. You couldn’t say you were afraid of her and her group, but honestly, harassment is the last thing you need as North Shore’s token plug. It would be plain stupid to garner more attention to yourself than necessary.

But even with all of that in mind, here you are, sitting in the principal’s office with enough anger in your chest to probably strangle the man sitting in front of you. Because you didn’t even fucking do what you’re being penalized for. But guess who told Mr. Duvall that you were taking pictures of girls changing in gym? Regina George. She could make up whatever she wanted and even the authority figures at this school would treat it like it was the holy grail. You stare at him with venom in your eyes as he explains to you that you will have to be suspended. For something you didn’t even do.

Regina was in your gym class. You had heard around that she was spreading rumors about you being a lesbian, but that’s not new information to literally anyone, so you didn’t especially care. Then people started giving you disgusted looks in the hallways, calling you some really nasty names, and even some of your close female friends started to avoid you. You didn’t know why until about 10 minutes ago. Apparently, you were the last person to know about your supposed photo collection.

When Mr. Duvall finally lets you leave, you feel the rage boil up inside of you before you can stop it. You’re going to get in so much trouble at home, and for what? Because the world’s most spoiled brat decided your reputation was the one to ruin this week? Does she even realize how her rumors can affect people? Obviously not, because she does it all the fucking time.

You’re way late to lunch, but the moment you step into that cafeteria, it’s like a wild dog being released into the ring. You skip on the lunch line and head straight towards the table where you see Karen Shetty and Gretchen Wieners talking with wide eyes to the blonde head of hair with her back to you. Regina. You lock on like a target, not glancing at anything else surrounding you. Your hands are bunched into fists at your sides as the anger rises up in your throat like bile. How dare she? How dare she completely make up this bullshit about you, get you suspended because of it? And why hasn’t anyone actually done something about it?

You see her turn around. Two ice blue eyes look up at you. Disgusted, maybe even a little confused as she sees you approaching her table. Because no one ever dares enter her territory. She thinks she’s above that. She doesn’t look at you more than a second, though, before your hands are ripping her off the bench by the collar of her shirt.

“What the fuck is your problem?” you practically snarl, your arms already dragging her towards the wall as you slam her against it. Your hands still grip the collar of her shirt, your anger almost palpable. You hear what you think to be Gretchen scream. The cafeteria descends into chaos around you. You don’t care. The only thing you’re concerned about is what’s in front of you right now.

Regina doesn’t even look slightly bothered. In fact, she cocks an eyebrow. Her eyes seem to glow with that malice now. Your hands grip the fabric of her shirt even tighter.

“Oh, no, did I hit a nerve?” she laughs, her eyes looking you over with a newfound disgust. Like you’re simply a piece of trash a wild animal found out it could not digest and spit back up. Like you’re beneath her. You hate the woman, but it’s almost impressive how controlled she is in moments like these.

“You’re just proving me right, you know. Just admit you’re the weird freak that everyone knows you are. I can’t stand a closet lesbo.” she sneers, pushing her face close enough to yours that you can feel her breath on your face.

Something in you snaps when she says those words. Because it’s not even true, and you’re the only person who seems to believe that. The anger’s hot in your chest. Its flames seem to carry your arms as you ball your right hand into a fist.

And you punch the Queen Bee of North Shore directly in the eye.

-

Your suspension was extended. Obviously.

You spend the next 2 weeks cleaning the house until your fingers peel and keeping up with your school work on your computer. People are talking about your fight with Regina all over Instagram and Regina’s acting like a total victim about the whole thing. People sending her their condolences and all that bullshit. As if she was dying and didn’t only get one punch to the face before someone pulled you off of her. It was your health teacher from last year; he seemed a little too eager to grab you and pull you off of Regina.

When you return to school, it seems people still believe those rumors about you taking pictures of girls in the changing rooms, because your peers are giving you the same sort of looks as before. They clear away from you when you walk past, but not in the worshipful kind of way they do for Regina. More like they’re disgusted to be around you.

Some people are impressed you stood up to her, though. You’re the first of your time. Janis ‘Imi’ike from your AP Lit class gives you a high five in the morning and you give her a big grin in return.

You see Regina in your gym class after lunch, and she looks as good as new. You’re a little disappointed. You kind of wanted to see her with that bright purple bruise on her eye that you’d seen all over Instagram. But there she was, looking like the perfectly crafted Barbie doll that she always seemed to be. Not even a stand of flawless blonde hair out of place. It made you mad. It’s like you did it all for nothing.

To your surprise, though, Regina ignores you. She doesn’t whisper to her minions while giving you dirty looks from across the room, doesn’t send them after you with a raise of her finger. It’s like you’re invisible to her. Honestly, you prefer it that way. You’re tired enough of this whole situation as it is. It’s a godsend she’s not making it worse today.

Coach Carr takes you all outside since it’s one of the last warm days until fall. You stick your Airpods in and walk the track, still keeping an eye on Regina. It’s not like her to not torment someone who got suspended because of one of her rumors. You don’t trust it at all, but she seems content with pretending you don’t exist. Since Karen and Gretchen aren’t in this class with her, Regina resorts to talking to the girls who aren’t quite Plastic, but are still high enough on the social pyramid for Regina to tolerate. You roll your eyes as they mindlessly follow her lead like a pack of lion cubs.

After a couple of minutes, you get bored and sneak off to the woods surrounding the track. Your coach wasn’t the most attentive person in the world, so it was pretty easy. You needed to smoke or you were going to go insane. You take an Airpod out and grab the cart out of your bra. Have to keep it non-suspicious.

You only plan on taking a few hits since it’s so concentrated and you still have another class after this. You come out here so much that you don’t even think about it. Until you hear a voice behind you.

“Are you smoking weed?”

Your neck nearly snaps when you whip your head around. Your heart sinks back down to your chest from your throat when you see Regina George standing there instead of Coach Carr.

“Jesus, what the fuck?” you immediately respond, your voice wavering a bit as you hadn’t even considered someone had seen you slip out. The weed had just started to hit and you could feel it amplify the fear in your chest, even though Regina wasn’t technically immediate danger. Although, your heart begins to race faster as you realize she will definitely try to get you in deeper shit because of this.

Regina begins to open her mouth before you immediately cut her off. “Before you go and tell everyone on this side of the country, everyone already knows. It’s not gonna do anything to ruin my reputation.” Your voice shakes similarly to your legs out of the pure shock of her finding you. You hate feeling cornered, but after your little tussle with her, you know how badly Regina must want to destroy you. Her eyes stare at you unflinchingly, unaffected by what you said. She looks smug enough to make you nervous. You don’t know if it’s because of the weed or your pounding chest, but it seems like minutes pass before Regina says anything else.

“What about Mr. Duvall? Does he know?” Fuck. You’re not getting out of this, are you? Your mouth begins to dry, the spit thick on your tongue as you think of a response. Your dad was already mad enough at you. You didn’t need this.

“No. But I can’t imagine it’ll go well for you if you tell him. I sell to half the school, including Karen. Everyone will be pissed if I get caught.” you respond, already feeling defeated, but you keep your tone searing. You’re taller than her; hopefully it makes you intimidating enough for her to have mercy. Regina doesn’t respond right away. All she does is raise an eyebrow, a smug smirk on one side of her mouth as you watch her consider her options. She’s flawlessly gorgeous in a way that’s enviable. But you kind of need her to not take away your source of income.

“Look, I smoke behind the baseball field every day after school. I’ll give you some for free if you just keep your damn mouth shut for once.” Your voice is almost pleading now. You wish she wasn’t so dead-set on ruining your life.

Time only gets slower as Regina’s smirk begins to widen. It’s a win-win situation for her, and she knows it.

“Fine. But you better not try to kiss me or anything.” she says slowly, spitting out the words like they’re poisonous.

You feel the relief pool in your stomach as soon as you hear those words. It must be obvious by the look on your face, because Regina laughs at you. She has that angry, disgusted sort of look in her eyes that you can’t quite figure out the reason for. It’s a shame because she’s so beautiful. Your body takes multiple seconds to keep up with your thoughts until a question crosses your mind.

“Did you follow me?” you ask, your voice a little too loud as you see her head turn back around.

“Obviously. I knew you weren’t sneaking off to do anything good,” she shoots back, the repugnant expression back on her face. She curls her lip at you before stalking off back to the track field, blonde hair flowing behind her.

How the hell did she even see you leave? Maybe you weren’t the only one paying attention to what the other was doing after your fight with her. But, why? Did she seriously think you were going to try and swing at her on your first day back?

You guess you’ll find out at 3:00P.M. behind the baseball field.

[shy-writer-999]

Giving Zoro a hand when he’s injured (#2)

WARNING: MINORS DNI. NSFW CONTENT.

A/N: P0rn with plot! ~5.9k words. Continuation of PT 1. Mutual pining, angst, fluff, and smut. Injured Zoro gives (afab) reader a hand this time... Or a tongue (oral sex, f. receiving). I inserted an asterisk (*) where the smut starts, so feel free to skip the plot! ଘ(੭ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ✩‧˚

Giving Zoro A Hand When He's Injured (Pt. II)

The day after you had “given Zoro a hand,” aka, a hand job, Chopper was feeling well enough to take over your nursing duties. If you were being honest with yourself, you were disappointed. You’d miss Zoro’s feigned crankiness, you’d miss seeing him blush, and you’d also miss being able to touch his chest and arms every time you’d change his ice packs (among other things…). Caring for him for those five days was eye-opening—Zoro seemed to actually have a soft side. Or at least, you thought you saw a glimpse of it.

Coupled with your disappointment at not having an excuse to be close to him, you were tickled when you remembered how vulnerable he was with you. Zoro had been so forthright and sweet with you during the whole endeavor, and to top it off, he had admitted how badly he needed you. The last time you saw him, he was practically begging you to fuck him. Remembering how he moaned your name made your heart skip a beat.

It’s safe to say that Zoro felt the same way. He cursed himself for how much he liked you, and because of that he was second guessing your interactions. As he sat in his room bored, and when he was given the green light to walk around deck a couple days later, his internal dialogue was running haywire. He couldn’t figure out what to do with his feelings, and whether or not you reciprocated them. It’s peculiar, how flustered and timid he was with these things. You’d think he’d be strong and confident in this area, given that he was THE Roronoa Zoro, but he was quite the opposite. Because he was preoccupied with strength, with training, and with being the best swordsman the world has never known, he neglected his softer side when it came to women and emotions in general. And he wasn’t the most experienced, obviously.

Even after you had cared for him so tenderly, even after you were so close with him, moaned his name, had your hands wrapped around his cock, and kissed him passionately—Zoro was oblivious to your (very obvious) feelings towards him. He knew three things. First, that he was painfully infatuated, borderline in love with you. Second, that he wanted you to touch him again. And third, that he had to do something about it.

The problem was that he didn’t have a clue what to do about it. And he was doubting himself. He hadn’t seen you for two whole days after Chopper took over for you, and on the third day Chopper gave him the green light to roam around deck and do some light lifting.

How would he go about initiating something with you? What would the moment be like when he first saw you after all that had transpired? Should he just grab you and pull you into a kiss? Tentatively broach the subject? Pretend it never happened? Zoro was at a loss.

The first time he saw you since you helped him “relieve” some stress, he froze. It was at the dinner table and he had gotten himself a plate of food and sat down, not paying attention to anything going on in the loud room or raucous antics. He was scarfing down his food when he felt something. To be more specific, he could feel someone staring at him.

He paused and did a comedically slow look up. You were across the table from him, looking at him, and he hadn’t noticed you. He almost choked on his food. When his eyes met yours, he immediately looked away, on instinct. It was like he couldn’t bear to look at you.

“Hey, Zoro.” You casually addressed him, acting like you usually would have. To your eyes, he did seem to be acting a slightly different—he seemed pissed, honestly—but you figured that some awkwardness would be normal at first, given that the last time you saw him he came all over your hand. “How’s the shoulder and thigh holding up?”

He cleared his throat and looked back at you. His eyes were always intense and it made you squirm. It was hard to hold eye contact with him. He just looked so pissed off all the time and his gaze was, without fail, cold and deadpan.

Zoro, on the other hand, could feel blush starting to creep up his neck, threatening to take over his whole face, but he tried to fight it off as best he could. Just act normal, he told himself internally. Just act normal. Nothing weird happened. She said it didn’t have to be weird at all. But you’re acting weird. He started to argue with himself. Well, stop it, damnit!

“It’s uhh—it’s fine.” He shrugged, nonchalant. You had no way of knowing what was going on in his head. As much as you liked him, as much as you had hoped that what happened a few nights ago would have changed everything, your heart faltered. It felt like it didn’t change anything between you at all. Even though you gave him such a passionate kiss at the end, even though you said that you’d ‘have to try his cum next time’ (or something like that), even though he’d moaned your name… did Zoro really not care about it at all? Was it merely a one-time fluke, explained by how desperate he had been after days of not masturbating? His eyes seemed to suggest that this must have been the case. You thought that you would have seen something there, some small residual of the fire that had burned so brightly in him nights before but… his eyes were cold and uncaring. Your heart sank.

The rest of the crew were laughing about something and eating, so you thought the interaction between you and Zoro would go unnoticed. You would finish your food and go back to your room to be emo about it for a little while before emerging again. But, as always, Sanji had something to say.

“Hey IDIOT!” his voice cut the silence between you and Zoro. “Don’t you think you should be more grateful for having such a gorgeous babe as your nurse!? I ought to rip my shoulder next so I get to hang out with you for five whole days, beautiful~~” Sanji came over and kissed your hand, and you let out a laugh, embarrassed.

“Oh, stop it, Sanji!” You giggled. No matter how many times Sanji praised you, you didn’t know how to respond.

“My love~ can I make anything else for you?” Sanji’s signature tone was over the top and lovey-dovey. “I’ll make anything you want!”

“No, no, Sanji, I’m good. But thank you!” You waved him off with a smile and he blew you a kiss. By the time your short interaction was done, you turned back to Zoro and his seat was empty. He was washing his plate in the kitchen sink. He set it on the drying rack and walked back to his room. His abrupt exit stung. He really didn’t give a fuck at all, you told yourself, trying to fight back the pit growing at the bottom of your stomach. Now you definitely were going to be emo in your room. It was impossible not to read into that more. You didn’t see him for the rest of the night.

You felt rejected, like that sweetness you had seen from Zoro was a lie, like maybe he didn’t actually have interest in you, like you were getting your hopes up for nothing. After all, the only reason anything happened between you two was because he was in pain and couldn’t do it himself. You tried to reason the hurt away—you were just being a good friend, you told him it didn’t have to be weird or anything, you were the one who leaned up to kiss him, not the other way around. From this angle, it looked like Zoro was repulsed by you, evidenced by his own actions. He must have been disgusted by the whole thing—why else would he practically jump out of his seat as soon as possible?

Maybe him moaning your name was only a heat-of-the-moment thing, maybe the fact that you touched yourself in front of him made him disgusted, maybe you crossed a line. You were feeling all mixed up inside, sad, frustrated, emotionally unregulated, sick to your stomach. You liked him so, so much, and the painful realization that he didn’t think anything of it made you feel like absolute shit.

Well, it turns out that Zoro thought a lot about it. He was just emotionally repressed, or at least he was when it came to you. He didn’t know what to do with himself after he saw you at dinner, he felt like he needed get away from you as soon as possible, or else he was going to say something off-putting and weird or make himself look like a love-sick fool (and he definitely was one). He almost turned bright red when he realized you were in front of him; he almost lost his cool, hell, he almost choked!

Sanji speaking to you with such ease and such affection was the cherry on top. The shit cook could talk to you however he pleased, and it didn’t matter to anyone, but underneath the surface Zoro was seething with jealousy. He walked away from dinner so fucking annoyed at himself for not having anything else to say to you, so fucking annoyed at himself for not being nicer to you. His heart was screaming that he wanted to be the one who called you baby, sweetie, darling, and gorgeous. He wanted to be the one kissing your hand. But the shit cook got to do whatever he wanted, because Zoro couldn’t muster the strength or courage to get rejected. So, he shot himself in the foot, making you feel horrible and making himself feel horrible—two birds with one stone.

---

The next day Zoro was feeling a lot better. He could tell his shoulder was close to being fully healed, but it would be a couple more days until he could get back to working out, on account of his thigh. He felt better mentally, too. Sleep helped him process things; his emotions felt more worked out after a solid night of sleep. He was less annoyed with himself and had stopped spewing vitriol at himself. He was feeling clear-headed—if he saw you again, he would say thank you and not run away like last time. He was hyping himself up to do it, and his internal monologue along the lines of: Just say thank you, and move along, like a normal person. You don’t have to say ANYTHING about the handjob. Just say thank you, it’s simple! She can interpret that any way that she wants, and it isn’t objectively creepy. It’ll be fiiiiinnnneeee.

While Zoro felt better when he woke up, you felt worse when you woke up. Your eyes were red from crying. Something about that interaction with him broke your heart and got to you, so you couldn’t help it. When you had to walk past him in the hallway in the morning, you just pretended like he wasn’t there, acting like you were doing something on your phone. You wanted to disappear walking past him, cringing out of your skin. You usually would smile at him or say “Hi, Zoro!” but you kept it to yourself this morning, heart still stinging from the slight yesterday. He obviously wanted nothing to do with you.

Zoro made a mental note of you ignoring him and he almost didn’t follow through with his plans. If you weren’t saying hi or good morning to him, then something was definitely off between you two. This was a little moment that he looked forward to every day. Today had been the only day that you hadn’t greeted him in the morning since you joined the crew. It was out of character, and it worried him. But he told himself that he was going to thank you no matter what. No matter how shy or awkward he felt about it, he thought you deserved a thank you because you had been his nurse for five whole days, and more than that, you had helped him get off when he was so pathetic and desperate for it.

You rounded the corner of the hallway after passing Zoro. You thought you were in the clear, putting your phone in your pocket. Phew. That didn’t feel great, but it would have felt worse to say good morning to him and get ignored.

“Hey—Y/N?” Your heart stopped. It was Zoro. He must have speed walked down the hallway to catch up to you. You spun around to face him and he almost ran into you. He overestimated how fast you were going and when you turned around he was about three inches away from you, uncomfortably close. You were almost touching. A second passed before you both turned red and jumped a couple feet apart.

“Zoro, you scared me!” You faked annoyance hoping that it would distract from the vivid shade your face was quickly turning.

“Sorry, Y/N,” he replied, rubbing his neck in embarrassment, his cheeks flushing pink. “I-I just wanted to say thank you. For taking care of me. I really appreciate it.”

Your heart skipped a beat. “Oh! Don’t worry about it. It wasn’t so bad.” You offered him a smile, to which his heart twisted and butterflies fluttered. A feeling of relief crept over him at seeing you beaming at him like you always did—like he looked forward to every morning.

He had planned on saying thanks and hadn’t thought about what he would do after that. Now that his plan was executed, he was stumped—what would he do now? His heart told him that any time he spent around you was a treasure; but he didn’t have any idea on what to say, or how to rope you into spending more time with him. He didn’t know how to completely and gracefully express his gratitude without outright saying “Thanks for giving me a hand job!” And he was trying to avoid that.

He blurted out his next words. “Well, uh… Thanks. I guess I’ll see you around deck.” You smiled again and he turned the other way and shuffled off. He was dying inside. Cringing so hard that he wanted to slap himself. You’re a grade A FOOL, he reprimanded himself. What the fuck was that? ‘See you around deck’? Are you fucking twelve? That was so awkward, holy shit. I always see her around deck. Where the hell did that come from? He cringed again. He needed to disappear ASAP. He felt so awkward, like he fumbled the whole interaction. He was being hard on himself for no reason, because you thought nothing of it. You were simply tickled that he showed you some kindness, that he wasn’t as disgusted or creeped out by you as you thought earlier.

You did see him around deck later that day, much to your mutual delight. You gave him a wave and he smiled back at you. Usually, he would do some kind of head nod thingy, bringing his chin up quickly and back down, as a sort of acknowledgement. But this time he had given you a genuine smile. His lips curled into the sweetest smile you’d ever seen, and your heart skipped a beat again. It was crazy how much you liked him.

---

At dinner that night Zoro sat across from you, deliberately. He always tried to sit near you. It was the only time of day he could be that close to you, normally, and he would take any time he could get, but he rarely interacted with you at dinner. He’d spend more time bickering with Sanji, Luffy, and Usopp more than anyone, and he’d laugh a lot too. Especially if he had some sake, which was frequently.

When he sat down, you gave him another one of your smiles. “Hi Zoro,” you chirped. “How’s your shoulder? Is your thigh doing okay?” His shoulder was still covered with bandages, peeking out from under the t-shirt he was wearing, and he was still slightly limping from the huge gash on his thigh.

“Both are doing a lot better. Chopper said I can lift weights that are a bit heavier now.” His tone was gruff, and he was focused on his food, not looking at you.

“Nice!”

“How was your day?” He asked, looking up from his plate into your eyes. His eyes were as steely as ever but… they looked different. You couldn’t quite place a finger on it.

Asking as simple a question like that was not how Zoro historically interacted with you. In fact, you’re not sure he had asked something like that before. You two were friendly, you were crewmates, after all. But you didn’t talk or hang out much, one on one. Or at least, you hadn’t since you nursed him for five days (and helped him get off).

“It was good,” you answered him. “I didn’t do much, honestly. Just sort of lazed around.”

“Me too.” Zoro held eye contact with you for slightly longer than usual—his eyes lingered. He steadied himself mentally before he asked you his next question, cringing in advance, figuring you’d shrug him off. But he was dying to know the answer. He needed to talk to you.

“I’m going to have some sake on the deck after this, do you want to join?” His eyes were still locked on yours and butterflies stirred in your stomach. You realized what emotion lied behind his eyes—he seemed to be pleading. This was out of left field for Zoro.

“Sure, that sounds nice.” You responded, blush taking over your cheeks. You were flabbergasted, caught unaware.

“Well, I’m done with dinner, so when you finish just find me on deck.” He nodded at you, offered a small smile, and got up. He went to wash his plate, grabbed a couple bottles of sake, and went outside.

---

When you went looking for him, Zoro was sitting on the upper deck with a bottle already cracked open. He was looking off into the ocean, and you took a second to take in his beauty. He looked perfect to you. His jaw was sharp and the line of his neck was familiar to you after changing his ice packs and bandages. His arms were toned, his figure manly and handsome. The setting sun was casting beautiful and golden rays on the whole scene, and he looked all the better for it. This was the man that you liked, loved, even.

You came and sat next to him, and he offered you a bottle. Zoro drank sake straight out of the bottle, so you did too. “The sunset is gorgeous,” you observed.

In his mind he answered back, you are gorgeous. But in reality, he responded with a “Mmmhmm.”

The tension and silence in the air between you felt suffocating.

“So, why’d you invite me to have sake with you? What’s up?” You asked, puzzled.

“No reason, really.” He responded, turning to look at you. He took a deep breath before he spoke again, forcing himself to say what was actually on his mind. Forcing himself to say what you deserved to hear. “I just like spending time with you.”

You turned a bright shade of red. “Oh, uh.. Seriously? That’s nice of you.” You smiled at him. He noticed your blush, perturbed, and barreled onwards with what he planned to say.

“Yeah. I think I’ll miss having you as my nurse. Not in a creepy way or anything,” he cautioned and waited a beat. His heart was crying out to him—tell her how you feel! “Your presence is peaceful and you’re kind. It was nice to spend time with you.”

The look in his eyes was vulnerable and open. You’d only seen it once before, right before he opened up to you, days earlier. You were taken aback, flustered, couldn’t believe your ears. Did Zoro say that it was nice to spend time with you?

“I could say the same about you,” you smiled back at him. You didn’t know where the conversation was going, but your heartbeat was through the roof. “I had a nice time. And I don’t think you’re creepy or anything. I think you’re really sweet. So, I guess I should be the one saying thank you.”

Now it was Zoro who turned crimson.

“Thanks for what?” He asked, puzzled.

“Thanks for letting me be close to you like that.” You answered softly and your eyes met his again. His gaze was tortured—he felt like he was dreaming. Your words hung in the air.

“Anytime.” He answered, almost breathless. Then, he took the jump. After saying his next words, there’d be no going back. But the moment was in front of him, and he had to seize it. “I may not show it, but I like you a lot. To be honest, I think about you a lot too.”

You were stunned. Had he just said that? Was the sweetness you saw in him coming to the forefront? It seemed like time stood still.

“Zoro, I think about you a lot too.” Your voice was gentle.

“How?” He asked. He had to know, he needed to hear it explicitly from you. If you liked him, he needed to know. He needed you to hit him over the head with it.

“How? Zoro, if you couldn’t tell already, you’ve been driving me crazy. You’re all I can think about.” You looked at him, mired in the agony of finally confessing your feelings for someone. “I am painfully infatuated with you. I can’t even look you in the eyes half the time. I was glad to be your nurse because I like you. I more than like you. I—” you stopped yourself. You’d save those words for another time.

Something came over Zoro in that moment. It’s like he was in an alternate reality, one in which you liked him, too. He reached his hand up to cup your cheek and pulled you into the most delicate kiss. His lips met yours with sparks. It’s like you melted into him. Neither of you had any regard for what was going on around you—Sanji could have started screaming bloody murder at you and you wouldn’t have moved.

It felt like the kiss lasted millennia. When you pulled away from each other, you could see the fire and passion in Zoro’s eyes. It was like you had unlocked a completely different side of him, a side that you knew was there all along. It was a part of him that was vulnerable, sweet, kind, passionate, sensitive, and loving. You knew he was like this under the surface, and that he loved all of his crewmates and would die for them. But this side… this romantic side felt different.

“I’ve been wanting to do that for so long.” He murmured. “Fuck.”

“Me too.” You felt like you were going to pass out from blushing.

“Can we do that again?” He asked. His eyes seemed ravenous. He was starving for your touch, craving your attention, desperate for your love. He wanted to kiss every inch of your body, tangle his fingers in your hair, feel your heartbeat next to his, your body warmth. But he told himself to not get carried away.

You whispered back a “yes,” and Zoro put one hand on your waist and pulled you closer to him. His other hand cupped your cheek again, and his kisses were timid and light. His touch made you feel electric. You needed more than this, and you had a sneaking suspicion that he felt the same.

You grabbed a fistful of his shirt and pulled him closer, so your bodies were pressing. As your kisses became more intense, you bit his lip softly and let your tongue explore his. Zoro’s hand on your cheek crept downwards. His fingertips went underneath your shirt and came to rest on your waist—he wanted to feel how soft your skin was, at last becoming acquainted with it after so many months of yearning. In doing this, he had no ulterior motive. It was a privilege to touch you.

The deck was empty at the moment, to your advantage. Who knows what commotion would have run wild if the crew had seen you and Zoro with your hands all over each other and lips locked.

When you had made out for a few minutes, Zoro pulled away from you. He felt like he could be more upfront with you and confident now that you had mutually confessed your feelings.

“Y/N,” he let himself ask the question he had been pondering for days. “Did you really mean it when you said we could do it again?”

He was referring to the end of your last interaction—when you said there would be a ‘next time,’ as in, you’d be intimate with each other again.

“Of course,” you answered him. Your faces were only centimeters apart. His heart was aching for you.

“When?” His voice was hoarse and low.

Your bit your lip and responded, bolder. “Now?”

“Please.” His eyes were begging you, his brow furrowed slightly. You nodded and got up, thrilled. He followed you without a word. He had never foreseen that the night would come to this.

(*) When you reached your bedroom, Zoro locked the door behind and then practically threw you against the wall. His hands were everywhere, and his mouth was so desperate—he felt your waist, your hips, your ass, your neck, your cheeks, your hair. His kisses were needy, sloppy, went, and ravenous. One of your hands clasped his neck, the other began to roam his chest and abs. You could feel his raging erection pressing on you. You had both been fantasizing about this for months and now that the cards were on the table, you meant business.

Moments passed and your hands crept down his broad chest. You hesitated when you reached the hem of his shirt. As you placed your fingers underneath it, you touched his bare skin, palms passing over his happy trail, up to his abs and scars. You took in everything your senses gave you—how his skin felt, how he smelled, how his big hands felt on you, how forcefully he was kissing you.

“Zoro,” you spoke into his mouth and in between his kisses. “Zoro, I want you.”

He hummed into your lips and his hands similarly crept under the hem of your shirt. His hands fingers across your stomach, making you shiver; he felt your stomach and your waist, rubbed circles on your skin with his thumbs, memorizing every inch.

"Are you sure?" He asked. He needed to know if you really meant it. If you really wanted it.

"Yes."

Hearing your answer, Zoro reached his fingers for your bra and unclasped it. He went back to the hem of your shirt and started pulling it up, peeling your shirt over your shoulders and helping you slide your bra off so your breasts were bare. When he started kissing you again, his hands hungrily started exploring—his fingers pinched your nipples and ran them between his index finger and thumbs, rubbing them until you let out a whine. He kneaded and squeezed. He couldn’t get enough.

Zoro unlocked his lips from yours and bent down to latch his lips over one of your nipples while his other hand played with your other nipple. His tongue swirled, making your bud harder than it already was. He sucked on it, until it started to feel good, and you were letting out soft sounds, trying to keep the noise down. You were wet already, cunt throbbing for him.

“Zoro, please,” your voice strained. “Need you.”

His kisses worked up your chest, up your neck, and to your lips. You could feel his hard bulge rut into you. You shimmied out of your pants before Zoro picked you up, lifting you by your waist. He carried you to your bed and put you down so you were lying flat.

Sliding off his pants one quick movement, Zoro was stripped to only his black boxer briefs now. Zoro’s cock was (as you were already aware) huge. When he got on top of you, you could feel it rubbing on your stomach through the fabric and on top of your underwear.

Zoro was putting all his weight on his knees, letting his other hands explore and trail around your body. This time, his kisses trailed from your lips, down your neck, to your stomach, and then came to rest on top of the fabric of your panties. He pushed your thighs apart and held them there. Bringing his face to your panties, Zoro left one long lick from bottom to top, up your folds, to your clit. He licked at your clit a few times and you whined—the rough fabric combined with his tongue made friction that felt so good. You could feel your wetness seep and saturate your panties with each lick and kiss placed through the fabric.

He tugged the fabric aside and ran his tongue between your folds, stopping right before he got to your clit. As soon as his tongue made contact, you let out a moan, albeit a soft one. The noise was music to Zoro’s ears, and it fueled him. He neglected your clit for a few more seconds, only focusing on lapping the wetness from your folds, teasing your slit, and breathing in your scent.

Zoro wanted you to feel as good as he had felt a few days before, when your hand was wrapped around his cock. This was his way of ‘repaying the favor.’ When he finally ran his tongue in circles around your clit, you moaned his name for the first time.

Hearing his name come out of your mouth was like honey to his ears. His heart was pounding and twisting, core burning, and the only thing he could think about was you. He needed you to feel good. He wanted your toes to curl in pleasure, wanted you to cum at least once, wanted you to repeat his name again and again like it was a symphony.

His tongue lingered on your sensitive spot for a few seconds before returning to lick the glistening slick that was accumulating down your cunt. The head he gave was so good it was indescribable.

Zoro pushed one of his thick fingers into you and pulled it out slowly, eliciting another moan. After doing that a few times, he added another finger, loosening you up and drawing more slick from your core. As his fingers started to curl and scissor inside of you, he reached his head forward and started leaving long kisses and warm licks on your clit.

The sensation was overwhelming—his big hands were prying your thighs apart still, his grip was so hard it would leave a bruise, his fingers were fucking you steadily, tongue still licking long stripes up your clit, hot breath sending ripples of euphoria through you. You could only handle so much before you started to squirm. Your fingers reached down into his hair, holding it tight, pulling his face closer to you. Zoro had to hold back a grin. Little did you know, that was his mission accomplished for the night, other than making you cum, that is.

“Zoro,” you moaned his name a second time, cueing him run his tongue in gentle circles around your clit again and slow the pace of his fingers. “I can’t take it anymore. I—I’m gonna cum”.

He pulled his fingers out of you. “Don’t cum yet, ok?” Sucking your juices off his fingers, he let go of your thighs, which fell limp and wide open.

You nodded and whined again. “Okay, I’ll try.”

When he got back to eating you out, he switched it up—this time, his tongue fucked you and his thumb ran circles over your clit. The added pressure on your clit from the rough skin of his thumb drove you crazy, and when his tongue alternated from licking your folds to fucking your slit, you couldn’t handle it. Your legs clamped around him, squeezing his head, causing his cock to throb more than he physically thought it was capable of.

This time, regardless of whether or not he told you to wait, you were going to cum.

“Fuck, Zoro,” you panted, whining, “I need it. Please.” He could tell you were close. He pressed on your clit just a little bit harder, pushing you over the edge. Pleasure came crashing down on you like a wave (which, coincidentally, is what Zoro felt seeping out of you and onto his tongue). Your thighs squeezed his head harder and you moaned his name loudly, again and again, as you convulsed. Your toes curled, fingers almost tearing out his hair.

This was unlike any orgasm you’d felt before. It was more visceral—he truly knew what he was doing, which was wild, considering that he wasn’t the most experienced. But he must have had a gift for it, because that was by far the best head you’ve gotten.

He licked your clit through your orgasm, causing your hips to jerk. The pleasure was enveloping you, everything in your mind went blank except for the feeling of your orgasm and the sensation of his tongue.

When you had finished, he licked the rest of your juices off your folds, savoring it. Then he crawled back over you, looking down and pulling you into a kiss.

The thought of you tasting yourself through his kisses turned him on, too. His cock was painfully hard at this point, precum blotting very noticeable a stain through his briefs. He was endlessly pleased with himself after teasing such an orgasm out of you. When he had given you a handful of kisses, he collapsed on the bed next to you and reached over to sweetly kiss your cheek. His hand entwined with yours, and you were both out of breath, happy and sweaty together.

Zoro wasn’t overly fussed with his own orgasm and was planning on waiting until you fell asleep later to go to the bathroom and relieve himself. Tonight was about you. As long as you came, Zoro was happy. So, he smiled happily next to you, thanking his luck that the person he loved seemed to like (if not love) him back.

He figured that would be all for the night… but he was wrong.

＼ʕ •ᴥ•ʔ／ ⊂(￣(ｴ)￣)⊃ (⊙︿⊙ ✿)

Check out part one if you haven't already! Thank u so much for reading, I hope you liked it! Part 3? Perhaps...

also here's my masterlist if ur interested!

--Z

[ja3mln]

part one & three

cw: popular guy!jm, jealous!jm, smut, public sex, exhibitionism, fingering, cum eating (f), dirty talk, slutshaming, a bit of fluff, jm is whipped for reader

words: 1.5k

a/n: wanted to write a second part since yall liked the first one! thinking abt writing a third one with fluff only but idk😖 enjoy!

_____________________________________________

jaemin definitely has a crush on you. he doesn't know how it happens but one thing he knows, it's that it's driving him crazy. of course, he crushed on girls before but one of his hook ups? never. he couldn't help but start acting differently towards you once he realized that his feelings for you start growing. he would walk you home after classes when he have the occasion to (and will end up fucking you in your apartment), he would make sure to send you a text to ask you if you ate today because he knows that you sometimes skip meals to go to the library and study, he even starts sending you good morning texts and good night texts. for you, it was just him being friendly because after all, spending time with jaemin besides the sex was nice.

today jaemin was throwing a party and the first thing he did was invite you. he found himself excitedly looking for you in the crowded rooms but when he finally spotted you, he didn't except for you to be with a random guy, probably a date because of the way you were laughing and touching his arm. he tried so hard to fight the jealousy that was filling his body. it's not like you both are exclusive, or officially together. you were just fucking, having friendly dates from time to time, just what friends with benefits normally do. then why jaemin was feeling so angry seeing you with another guy? he literally have all the girls at his feet but he wanted you more than anything. the first thought that came to his mind was that he wanted to grab you and fuck you in front of this guy. show him that only his cock can make you feel good. he quickly told himself to get his shit together and just joined his group of friends. he couldn't ignore the uncomfortable feeling in his chest, he really tried but he couldn't even have a conversation because he was too distracted, just the thought of you having fun with another guy won't leave his mind. he just couldn't take it anymore. once you were finally alone, he didn't hesitate to approach you.

"oh, hey jaemin!", just seeing your soft smile made jaemin's heart skipped a beat. he was just so whipped for you. "who's that guy?", he says with a monotone voice because he didn't want to sound too harsh. "my date...?" you reply a bit surprised by his question and mostly the dark look in his eyes. he gets closer to you, and your back end up on the wall as you look up at him. "i don't like that.", jaemin says with an hesitant voice, like he's scared that you'll never want to see him ever again if he reacts that way. in fact, you like the fact that jaemin is jealous. it's not like you didn't develop a small crush for him, it was too hard not to when jaemin was this caring and funny (and also a really good fuck). "you do?", a smirk appears on your lips and jaemin try to not show how surprised and relieved he is. maybe it was the few drunks that you had that made you so confident. one of his hands slides behind your neck so he can get a closer look at your face. "you know that i'm the only one who can make you feel good." and that was true. you never had better than him but it was hard to admit it. jaemin doesn't wait for an answer, pulling you close so he can put his lips on yours.

that's how you both start making out in the corner of the crowded room. you totally forgot about your date, your attention was now completely on jaemin. his grip on your neck gets tighter and his body gets closer to you until you can feel his growing boner on your core. you could already feel yourself getting wet. "should we give him a show, sweetheart ? show him who you belong to.", your heart skips a beat because of how possessive jaemin was getting. he waits for your approval because, of course, he won't do anything you don't want to. you never really had public sex, in front of people even if you both like fucking in public places. as soon as you nod, his lips found yours to share a messy kiss, full of desire for each other. one of his hands starts caressing your tights, dangerously getting closer to your pussy. jaemin breaks the kiss to put his lips on your neck, sucking on it to leave marks while his hand starts ghosting your clit through your panties. "fuck, you're already so wet... you such a dirty slut. you love the attention don't you?", he whispers while looking at you deeply in the eyes and you suddenly feel shy, your cheeks heating up and not finding the words to answer. jaemin feels his heart soften for a moment, he just couldn't fight the way you make him feel. he chuckles slightly before pulling your panties to the side, his lips going back to your neck. you look around you for a second, seeing some of the people looking at you but when your eyes fall on your date who's watching you with a confuse look, you feel your cheeks getting warmer. he just went to grab a drink for you and now you're here, making out with another guy. it's not just a random guy it's jaemin but still, you feel a bit ashame and try to look at him with sorry eyes but when you feel jaemin's fingers slide in your pussy, your eyes shut down and your mouth open to let a soft moan, making jaemin smirk against your neck and his mouth travels your neck to go to your ear. "he's looking right? poor guy. you didn't even hesitate to offer your pussy to me, what a shame", he whispers and not only his words but also his hot breath against your skin makes your pussy throbs. his fingers starts moving in you and he grabs your face with his free hand, forcing you to keep your head straight and your eyes open, "i want you to look at him while you desperately fuck yourself on my fingers like a bitch", and you just obey because it's jaemin (and because it kind of turns you on). you meet your date's eyes again, this time he has start a conversation with some random guys but his eyes were still on you and you find yourself getting wetter. jaemin's eyes were still on your face, he didn't want to miss any of your reactions. his moves were getting faster, following your hips. "just like that, baby", he says while the grip on your face gets tighter and he groans at how wet you are.

he loves the fact that people were watching (especially your date) and seeing how good he was making you feel. you feel your legs getting weaker and jaemin notices immediately how you're starting to shake. you try your best to keep your voice down, even if the music was loud enough to cover it. jaemin's fingers keeps fucking you as you start grabbing his arm so you don't fall. "gonna cum jaem...", your hips follows jaemin's hand and you look at him. you immediately see the tenderness in his look and you feel your heartbeats getting faster just by the way he's looking at you. jaemin didn't take off his eyes one second off your face, he just couldn't. you finally reach your orgasm, moaning his name and totally forgetting all the people around you. jaemin hold you so you don't fall because of the intense orgasm you're having. he takes off his fingers to bring it to his mouth, licking it without his eyes leaving yours. "i'm so glad to have this pussy just for me, you taste so fucking good", he smirks when he sees your cheeks heating up again and his lips finds yours for a sweet but intense kiss. you accidentally make an eye contact with your date (that you totally forgot) and straighten yourself immediately, pulling your dress down and giving jaemin a serious look. "fuck jaemin... that was so embarrassing! he's still looking at me...", you say, feeling way more ashame than you were when jaemin had his fingers in you. "he is? maybe i should fuck you in front of him so he will understand?", he playfully raises his eyebrows and you gently slap him on the arm, trying to hid your face in his neck. "shut up!", he can't even fight a smile, holding you closer. that's when he realized that it was too late. jaemin was falling for you.

[fallstaticexit]

Prev / Next / Beginning

TW: Blood (from nosebleed) Transcript / AN under the cut

AN: Please enjoy this sound effect in my head when Geoffrey got the daylights knocked out of him . / also, thought I’d have MM episode ready , but not quite! So here’s another Nancy update ✨

Transcript:

Nancy Narrating: [I fell asleep thinking about Vanessa. I woke up thinking about Vanessa. When I would see her again. What we would do that day. What new little thing I’d learn about her]

Cassie: Did you want to sit with me and Bobby and watch the match tonight? Bobby is bringing the snacks; he can bring your favorites too.

Nancy: No thanks. I’m going to go with Vanessa.

Nancy: What?

Cassie: You know my old roommate, Angela? She was pretty close to VV. She’s kind of the reason she left the school.

Nancy: So?

Cassie: Vanessa started being really mean to her. She made the other girls call her names; it was awful. I just don’t want that to happen to you. VV always seems sweet at first, but when she doesn’t get her way...

Nancy: [scoffs] You clearly don’t know her like I do. She’s my best friend. It may have been that way with other girls, but she cares about me.

Cassie: ...just be careful. If not for her, then definitely for Dina and Nina. I think they’re worst.

Nancy Narrating: [I didn’t expect anyone to understand the connection we shared. There wasn’t a single person in the world that loved Vanessa as much as I did]

Nancy: [panting] Where’s Vanessa? She wasn’t in class this morning and I’ve looked everywhere for her.

Dina: Damn. Hello to you too.

Nancy: Sorry- it’s just, we always walk to class together. I feel like I haven’t seen her all morning. I’ve probably been all over campus looking for her.

Dina: Uh-huh...

Nina: [mutters to Dina] See? [to Nancy] They did a room check and found her Playboys. Guess she sucks at hiding them. She’s getting chewed out for it. This is her like, third strike, they might call her dad.

Nancy Narrating: [Vanessa was constantly monitored by the teachers and church nuns, who were quick to report back to her father]

[Their most effective tool for discipline was shame]

Sister Agnes: How vile! Pornography? This is prohibited! Your father will surely not be pleased to hear about your actions, young lady.

Nancy Narrating: [Maybe that’s why she craved freedom as much as I did]

Sister Agnes: Is that what it will take for you to behave and carry yourself like a proper young lady? Will your father have to come pay you a visit?

Vanessa: [mutters] No, Sister Agnes. I will never do anything like this again. Please. Don’t call my father.

Dina: So, is your ass grass or what?

Nina: Yeah, did they bar you from going to the game?

Vanessa: Nope! Your girl is off the hook! I just have council with Father Mayhew for the next week but they’re not going to call my dad.

Nina: If anyone can weasel out of trouble, it’s you, VV.

Nancy: [sighs happily] That’s a relief.

Vanessa: Nothing will stop me from hanging out with my girls, right, Nance? Come on, let’s skip last period so we can get good seats for the game.

Vanessa: Don’t look, but is Corey Howard checking me out?

Nancy: Yeah. He can’t take his eyes off you.

Vanessa: Oh yeah? How’s my hair?

Nancy: It’s perfect. You’re perfect.

Vanessa: Nancee [giggles] don’t make me blush! Cheer with me, okay?

Corey: Look alive, Osteer. The ladies are always watching.

Don: OSTEER! Look out!!

Corey: I’d die of embarrassment if it were me.

Don: [tsks] Nap time is over, princess. Hit the bench.

Nancy: You’re still so clumsy.

Geoffrey: Huh?

Nancy: Your dad threw a party once and you split your head open on the mantel. It was really disgusting.

Geoffrey: You... remember me?

Nancy: That was only 7 years ago. If either of us had amnesia, it would be you. Hold still.

Geoffrey: Well… I remember you used to cry when you got dirt in your sandals.

Nancy: What? [laughs] Did I really?

Geoffrey: [chuckles nervously] Yeah, it was kinda adorable. I mean-

Geoffrey: ...Y-you know, in a way…I guess.... um...

Vanessa: [sighs] This game is so boring, Nance. Want to get out of here?

Nancy: Of course. Wherever, whenever.

Vanessa: That’s my girl! Sorry about your face, Jeffrey.

Geoffrey: Actually, it’s Geoffrey! [sighs] ....nevermind..

Nina: I have an idea.

[guilty-ff]

𝐒𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐁𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐏𝐭.5

ᡕᠵ᠊ᡃ່࡚ࠢ࠘ ⸝່ࠡࠣ᠊߯᠆ࠣ࠘ᡁࠣ࠘᠊᠊ࠢ࠘𐡏 ˚⁎⁺˳ .

Previously: After years of brutal torture by Francis, Y/N finally escaped, fighting her way out of the lab and fleeing into the dense woods. Each step was a struggle, but she knew she couldn't stop. With the guards on her heels, she disappeared into the shadows, determined to reclaim her life.

This story takes place between the second and third movies (warning: not 100% movie/comic accurate)

Pairing: Wade Wilson/Deadpool x (fem!)Reader

Genre: Angst, revenge, Fanfiction, Marvel

Warnings: Movie Spoilers! Explicit content, swearing, torture, mental health, weapons

Word count: 3640

The slums were from now on her home. Y/n had escaped from the clutches of the facility, but the scars of her past- both mental and physical- were still engraved deeply in her body. The nights were the hardest, when the world around her was quiet and the memories screamed the loudest. She lived in a cramped, old apartment, the flickering neon lights outside her window casting shadows on the walls.

It had been weeks since her escape, weeks of hiding and laying low, blending into the filthiness of the city. Here, she was just another face in the crowd, another soul struggling to survive. But she was different. She could feel the darkness within her, the uncontrollable power that surged through her veins. She had to find a way to control it, to suppress it before it consumed her.

Y/n spent her days looking for information, piecing together bits of knowledge about mutants, about powers like hers. She searched through the back alleys and seedy bars, listening to rumors and whispered conversations. Slowly, she began to understand the nature of her abilities, the twisted gift that had been forced upon her. But understanding was not enough. She needed control.

One night, in a ed bar that reeked of sweat and stale beer, Y/n finally found a lead. She had been sitting at the counter, nursing a glass of cheap whiskey, when she overheard a conversation between two men at the next table. They spoke in low tones, their words slurred from alcohol, but Y/n's ears caught every word.

"Essex House... that place was a nightmare," one of the men muttered, his face half-hidden in the shadows. "They did some real messed up shit there."

The other man, a burly figure with a ashen beard, nodded grimly. "I heard they had a way to control mutants. Some kind of device."

Y/n's heart skipped a beat. She leaned closer, pretending to adjust her coat as she listened.

"Yeah, I know a guy who used to work there," the bearded man continued. "Big guy, real quiet. He hangs around here sometimes."

Y/n did not waste any time. She slid over to their table, her movements smooth. "Mind if I join you?" she asked, her voice low and steady.

The men exchanged a glance, then shrugged. "Sure, why not?" the bearded man said, gesturing to the empty seat.

Y/n sat down, fixing them with a piercing gaze. "I couldn't help but overhear. You mentioned Essex House. I'm looking for someone who worked there. A guard, maybe?"

The first man, looked her up and down suspiciously. "Why do you want to know?"

"Let's just say I'm looking for answers," Y/n replied, her tone leaving no room for argument. "If you can help me, I'd appreciate it."

The bearded man scratched his chin, his eyes narrowing. "I don't know his name, but he's usually around here. I'd be careful, though. He doesn't like to be bothered."

"Point him out," Y/n she said, her eyes scanning the bar.

The bearded man nodded toward the far corner, where a large figure sat hunched over the bar, nursing a drink. "That's him."

Y/n followed his gaze and saw the man- a huge, muscled frame with a shaved head and a face that looked like it had seen more than its fair share of violence. He was a mountain of a man, his broad shoulders hunched over as he downed another shot of whiskey. There was a darkness about him, an aura of danger that warned others to keep their distance.

Y/n thanked the men and made her way toward the bar, her eyes never leaving the figure in the corner. She did not approach him directly, instead choosing to observe him from a distance, waiting for the right moment. 

The man continued to drink heavily, oblivious to the world around him. It was not long before he started to show signs of drunkenness- his movements sloppy, his head nodding as if fighting off sleep.

Now. This was her chance.

Y/n moved swiftly, her steps silent on the worn wooden floor. She slipped behind the man, her hand reaching into her coat to retrieve a small vial of chloroform and a cloth. In one fluid motion, she pressed the cloth over the man's face, her other arm locking around his throat.

The man struggled, his instincts kicking in despite his drunken state, but Y/n was quick and precise. Within seconds, his body went limp, his heavy frame slumping against the bar.

She wasted no time. With the strength born from desperation, Y/n dragged the unconscious man out of the bar, navigating through the back alleys until she reached her hideout.

The basement of an abandoned building, it was cold and damp, the walls lined with old newspapers and broken furniture. She had set up a small, makeshift interrogation room- just a chair and a bare light bulb hanging from the ceiling.

Y/n tied the man to the chair, securing his wrists and ankles with thick rope. She stood back, her heart pounding as she waited for him to wake up. The adrenaline was still coursing through her veins, her hands shaking slightly as she paced the room.

Finally, the man moved slightly, his dazed eyes blinking against the harsh light. He groaned, tugging at the ropes before realizing he was restrained. Panic flickered across his face as he looked around, his gaze settling on Y/n, who stood before him with a cold, determined expression.

"What the hell—?" he began, his voice stammered from the lingering effects of the chloroform.

"Shut up," Y/n snapped, stepping closer. "I'm the one asking questions. You're going to answer them."

The man's eyes narrowed, anger replacing his initial fear. "You've got no idea who you're messing with."

"Oh, I think I do," Y/n replied, her voice icy. "You used to work at Essex House. You were a guard there."

The man's expression hardened, his jaw clenching. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Y/n's patience was wearing thin. She had spent too long hiding, too long searching for answers, to be stonewalled by this brute. She leaned in, her face inches from his, her voice low and menacing.

"Don't lie to me," she hissed. "I know what they did in that place. The experiments, the torture. I know about the children. If you think I'm bluffing, you're sorely mistaken."

The man's boldness stopped for a moment, but he quickly recovered, sneering at her. "You don't know shit."

Her hand moved faster than he could react, striking him hard across the face. His head snapped to the side, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth.

"I said, don't lie to me!" Y/n shouted, her voice trembling with fury. "I know what kind of monster you are. I know what you did to those kids. Now tell me about the device that suppresses mutant powers."

The man spat blood onto the floor, glaring up at her aggressively. "Even if I did know, I wouldn't tell you."

Y/n's fist connected with his jaw again, this time with more force. The man groaned, his head lolling forward as he struggled to stay conscious.

"You have no idea what I've been through," Y/n said, her voice barely above a whisper. "The things I've seen, the pain I've endured. If you think for one second that I won't make you suffer, you're dead wrong. Now, talk."

The man's resolve began to crumble under the weight of her words, the fear returning to his eyes. He took a heavy breath, finally giving in.

"There's a wristband," he muttered, his voice barely audible. "It was designed to suppress mutant powers. But that place... it's gone. Some kid blew it up, the whole building came down."

Y/n's heart raced as she absorbed his words. "Where can I find one?"

The man hesitated, his gaze darting around the room as if searching for a way out. Finally, he sighed in defeat.

"Maybe there's still some in the storage rooms beneath the building. But it's dangerous. The whole place is crawling with security, even now."

Y/n stared at him for a long moment, her mind racing. She had what she needed, but the anger still burned within her, the memories of those children haunting her every thought.

"And one more thing," the man added, his voice a broken whisper. "There were others involved in that explosion. A man in a red and black suit... mutants from the X-Men... and some scary guy with a teddy bear."

The mention of the man in the red and black suit made Y/n's blood run cold. Wade. The man responsible for her suffering. But she pushed the thought aside, focusing on the task at hand.

"Thank you," she said coldly, before slamming her fist into his face one last time. The man's head snapped back, and he slumped in the chair, unconscious.

"You deserve much more, you little piece of shit," Y/n muttered, her voice thick with disgust. She untied him and dragged him out to a nearby street, leaving him there to be found. She had no use for him anymore.

•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈•

The ruins of Essex House stood before Y/n like a tombstone, a monument to the atrocities that had taken place within its walls. The once impressive structure was now a gutted shell, its walls burned and crumbling, overtaken by creeping vines and nature's slow reclamation. The air was thick with the stench of decay and rot, a fitting aura for a place that had been a living nightmare for so many.

Y/n moved silently through the rubble, her senses heightened, every sound increased in the stillness of the night. The moon hung low in the sky, casting long, sinister shadows that danced across the broken ground. 

She had checked out the area earlier, avoiding the main entrances, which were still patrolled by security teams guarding whatever was left in the aftermath of the explosion, a few months ago. She needed to find the storage rooms beneath the building, where the guard had said the wristbands might still be.

Her heart pounded in her chest as she walked through a craggy opening in the wall, her eyes scanning the darkened interior. The building's skeleton remains were a labyrinth of broken beams and collapsed ceilings, the floors plastered with rubble and shattered glass. Every step was a calculated risk, the floorboards creaking ominously beneath her weight.

Y/n made her way down a long corridor, the walls covered in peeling paint and faded sceneries that had once depicted happy, smiling children- an ironic touch for a place that had been anything but.

Her breath stuck in the throat like there's a blockage as she approached a large door at the end of the corridor, its frame cracked and splintered. The guard's words echoed in her mind, urging her forward. She pushed the door open, and stepped into a vast chamber that had once been a laboratory.

Y/n's breath stopped as her eyes landed on the twisted metal chair in the center of the room. It was unmistakable- a torture device designed to restrain and torment its victims. The cold steel of the torture chair, the searing pain of electric currents coursing through her body. The sight of it brought a wave of nausea crashing over her, memories of her own time in such a chair flooding her mind, the mocking laughter of Francis as he watched her suffer in agony.

Flashback

She was strapped to the chair, her wrists bound with cold, hard metal. The room was dimly lit, the air thick with the smell of disinfectant and blood. Francis stood before her, his cold eyes glinting with sadistic glee. He was dressed in his usual black combat gear and white coat, his arms folded as he watched her struggle against the restraints.

"Ready for another round, sweetheart?" he sneered, his voice dripping with malice.

Y/n's heart pounded in her chest, her breath coming in short, ragged gasps. She was drenched in sweat, her body trembling from the aftershocks of the last session. She had lost count of how many times he had done this to her, how many times he had pushed her to the brink of death, only to pull her back and start again.

"Please... no more," she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Francis chuckled, his laughter a cruel, grating sound that echoed in the small room. "Oh, I'm just getting started," he said, reaching for the control panel beside the chair. His fingers danced over the buttons, and a low hum filled the air as the machine powered up.

Y/n's eyes widened in fear as the currents of electricity surged through her body, her muscles spasming uncontrollably. The pain was unbearable, like being ripped apart from the inside. She screamed, the sound tearing from her throat, but there was no one to hear her, no one to save her.

Francis watched with detached amusement, his expression one of mild curiosity. "You know, it's fascinating," he mused, his voice calm and measured. "Watching how much pain a person can endure before they break. You're tougher than most, I'll give you that."

Her vision blurred as the pain reached a crescendo, her mind teetering on the edge of unconsciousness. But she held on, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing her broken. She had to survive, had to escape, no matter what it took.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the currents stopped, and Y/n slumped in the chair, her body limp and exhausted. Francis leaned in close, his face inches from hers.

"Don't worry, darling," he whispered, his breath hot against her skin. "We'll keep doing this until you learn to behave."

Present

Y/n snapped back to the present, her hands trembling as she stared at the torture chair. The memories were like a vice around her chest, squeezing the air from her lungs. But she could not afford to break down now, not when she was so close. She forced herself to move, to search the room for the wristband.

The storage room was hidden behind a steel door, half-buried under rubble. Y/n unlocked it with a crowbar she had found earlier, using all her strength to pull the door free. Inside, she found a small, windowless room lined with shelves. Dust coated everything, the air stale and suffocating. She searched through the shelves, her hands moving frantically as she searched for the device.

Finally, her fingers closed around a small, sleek wristband, its surface smooth and cold to the touch. This was it- the device that could suppress her powers, that could give her the control she so desperately needed.

But as she pulled the wristband from the shelf, a shrill alarm pierced the air, the sound reverberating through the building. Panic surged through Y/n as she realized she had triggered a security system, her heart racing as the distant sound of footsteps echoed through the halls.

She had to get out, and fast.

Y/n bolted from the storage room, clutching the wristband tightly in her hand. She sprinted down the corridor, her mind a blur as she searched for an escape route. The footsteps were getting closer, the shouts of guards filling the air.

She spotted a window at the end of the hall, its glass cracked but still intact. Without hesitation, she launched herself at it, her shoulder slamming into the glass. The window shattered with a deafening crash, and Y/n tumbled through the opening, her body twisting in midair.

The world spun around her as she rolled to her feet, glass shards cutting into her skin. But there was no time to stop, no time to recover her injuries. The guards were right behind her.

Y/n ran, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she sprinted through the darkened streets. The sounds of pursuit faded into the distance, but she did not stop. She could not stop. Not until she was safe.

Finally, after what felt like hours, she slowed to a halt, her body aching and exhausted. She had made it. She had escaped, and she had the wristband. But as she stood there, alone in the shadows, the memories of Essex House lingered in her mind, a reminder of the horrors she had endured- and the revenge she would soon unleash.

•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈•

Y/n sat in her dimly lit hideout, the cold, metal wristband clasped tightly in her hand. She had waited for this moment, the promise of control over her powers finally within her grasp. With a deep breath, she slipped the wristband onto her wrist. A series of tiny, almost inaudible clicks signaled its activation. She felt a slight hum of energy ripple through her body, a sensation that was both foreign and strangely comforting.

"Okay, Y/n," she whispered to herself, her voice barely more than a murmur in the silence. "Time to see if this thing really works."

Her heart pounded in her chest as she picked up a small, sharp knife. She took a moment to steel herself before pressing the blade against the palm of her hand. Slowly, deliberately, she drew the knife across her skin, wincing as a thin line of blood welled up. She braced herself for the familiar agony of her powers activating, but to her astonishment, the pain remained localized. The cut did not heal as it usually would.

"It works," she breathed, a mix of relief and awe in her voice. "It actually works."

She wrapped her hand in a bandage, her mind already racing with the possibilities. For the first time in years, she felt like she had a measure of control over her life, over her destiny. She was not just a victim of her circumstances; she could be the master of them.

Over the next two years, Y/n threw herself into training with a passion that bordered on obsession. She perfected her combat skills, mastering various martial arts and weapons. She trained with knives, guns, and swords, each session pushing her limits further. Her hideout became a makeshift dojo, littered with training equipment and weapons of all kinds.

Her reputation in the slums grew as she took on hitman jobs to fund her training. She became a ghost, an unseen force of retribution for those who could not fight back.

One evening, she was approached by a woman with bruised arms and tear-streaked cheeks.

"Please," the woman begged, her voice trembling. "My husband... he beats me. I can't take it anymore. Please, make him stop."

Y/n looked into the woman's eyes, seeing the same helplessness and desperation she had felt so many times before. "What's his name?" she asked quietly.

"Jack. Jack Thompson. He works at the docks," the woman replied, her voice barely above a whisper.

Y/n nodded. "Consider it done. He won't hurt you again."

•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈•

Two years had passed since Y/n had escaped from Francis, two years of relentless training and hard-earned survival. She decided it was time to visit her own grave, a symbolic gesture to honour the person she once was. She made her way to a small flower shop, her mind set on finding the perfect bloom.

As she approached the counter to pay for a single white lily, she saw a woman laughing and chatting with the shopkeeper. The sight made her freeze. It was Vanessa. Alive and well, her smile as bright as ever. Y/n's heart clenched painfully in her chest, pulling her hood that covered her face even more down. She quickly paid for the flower and fled the shop, her mind a whirlwind of confusion and anger.

She reached her grave, a simple, unadorned headstone with her name etched into the cold marble. The vase next to it was empty.

"I see," she whispered, her voice cracking with emotion. "Forgotten and abandoned, even in death."

She knelt down, placing the lily in the empty vase. "I can't remember my old self," she said softly, tears welling in her eyes. "She truly did die, as well as her trust in you."

Her thoughts turned dark as she slowly stood up. Wade had saved Vanessa, she realized, her mind piecing together the puzzle with cold clarity.

He must have used Cable's time travel device during the Mutant Rehabilitation incident to go back and save her... but he left me to die.

As she turned and walked away from the grave, she could feel a rising tide of hatred surging within her, anger directed at Wade for abandoning her, for choosing Vanessa over her.

Later that evening, Wade approached the same grave. He was dressed in his red and black costume, the weight of his grief and guilt heavy on his shoulders. In his hand, he held a brand-new flower and a polished vase. He had not missed a single visit, always coming back to this lonely, forgotten corner of the cemetery to leave a token of his sorrow and love.

As he knelt down to place the new flower in the vase, he noticed the fresh lily already there, wilting slightly in the cold night air.

"Who...?" Wade muttered to himself, confusion furrowing his brow. He looked around, but the cemetery was empty and silent.

He placed his own flower beside the lily, a pang of sadness piercing his heart. "I'm sorry," he whispered to the grave. "I'm so damn sorry."

He stood there for a long moment, staring at the headstone as if willing it to give him some sort of answer, some sign that she knew he had not given up on her, that he still mourned her every day.

But the silence of the graveyard offered no reunion, only deepened the gap of misunderstanding that was growing between them, unseen and unspoken.

As Y/n made her way back through the slums, her mind was a storm of emotions. She was determined now, fueled by a dark purpose. She had been forgotten, left to rot in the shadows while Wade had moved on, living his best life with Vanessa.

A twisted sense of revenge began to take root in her heart, and she knew that the next time she crossed paths with Wade, it would be on her terms. And when that day came, there would be a reckoning.

[0omillo0]

BIKER! BANGCHAN X BUSINESSWOMAN! READER

Warnings: Fluff!!

masterlist

The low hum of engines filled the night air as a group of motorcycles came to a halt outside a popular club on the outskirts of the city. Among the riders, Chris "BangChan" was the most prominent figure, known for his sleek black bike and the commanding presence that drew eyes his way. He took off his helmet, shaking out his tousled brown hair, and glanced toward the neon-lit entrance of the club. Another night, another distraction from the endless humdrum.

Meanwhile, inside the club, you were busy sipping on your third drink. It had been a long week at the office. Being a businesswoman was rewarding, but today was particularly exhausting with the never-ending meetings, reports, and deadlines. You needed this — an escape. A little buzz to let loose, even if for just one night.

Your normally polished and professional demeanor was unraveling, and while you knew it, you didn’t care. The alcohol was bringing out a version of yourself you hardly recognized — free, wild, a little reckless. It was the exact opposite of the poised businesswoman everyone knew during the day.

BangChan walked into the club, scanning the scene. It didn’t take long before his eyes fell on you — a woman in a sleek black dress, swaying to the music, drink in hand, with an air of confidence that matched his own. Except there was something different about you. A look in your eyes that drew him in.

“Hey,” he said, leaning against the bar next to you. His deep voice had just the right amount of casual charm.

You turned, your gaze landing on him. Normally, you wouldn’t entertain some random guy at a club. You were busy, driven, and too focused on your career to waste time on flirtations. But the alcohol had loosened your walls.

“Well, aren’t you handsome?” you teased, a playful smile curling on your lips.

Chris chuckled, surprised by the boldness. “And you’re… interesting,” he replied, a smirk tugging at his lips. “What’s your name?”

“Why should I tell you?” you teased again, feeling bolder than usual.

“Because I’m curious.” He leaned in slightly, his eyes never leaving yours. “And you look like someone worth knowing.”

Something about the way he looked at you made your heart race a little. Without thinking, you grabbed a napkin from the bar, scribbling your number down and sliding it toward him. “Here. Don’t make me regret it.”

BangChan raised an eyebrow, glancing down at the napkin with a smirk. “I won’t,” he promised, slipping the napkin into his pocket. “I’ll see you around… maybe sooner than you think.”

---

The Next Morning

The alarm blared loudly in your ear, pulling you from your deep slumber. You groaned, rubbing your temples. The throbbing headache reminded you of your little escapade last night, and flashes of the club came back in hazy fragments. Your eyes widened when you remembered the guy… and the number you gave him.

“No way,” you whispered to yourself. “I gave him my number?”

You threw off the covers and rushed to get ready for work. There was no time to dwell on your mistake — if it was a mistake. You had no idea who this BangChan guy was, but something told you he wasn't just going to let you forget him that easily.

---

Later at Work

It was a busy day at the office, as usual. Your professional mask was firmly back in place — sharp suit, high heels, hair pulled back in a tight bun. You were the embodiment of efficiency, commanding respect from everyone around you. No one would ever guess the carefree woman dancing in the club last night was the same person striding through these halls.

As you sat down to check your emails, your phone buzzed. A text message. You glanced at it, half-expecting it to be from a colleague, but your heart skipped a beat when you saw the name.

Chris (Motorbike Guy):

Hey, boss lady. Rough morning?

You stared at the message for a moment, the memory of last night hitting you all at once. How did he manage to look so effortlessly cool in just one text? You quickly typed a response.

You:

How do you even know I’m at work?

A moment later, your phone buzzed again.

Chris:

Because I’m outside your office.

Your breath hitched. What?! You stood up quickly, peeking out the window of your corner office. Sure enough, there he was — leaning casually against his motorcycle, sunglasses on, looking completely out of place in the corporate landscape but somehow making it work.

You grabbed your phone and called him.

“Are you serious?” you asked as soon as he picked up.

“Dead serious,” he replied with a chuckle. “You didn’t think I’d just forget about you, did you?”

“I was drunk,” you hissed, glancing around to make sure no one was overhearing. “That doesn’t mean you can just show up like this!”

“I don’t mind if you were drunk. I still liked what I saw,” Chris said, his voice deep and teasing. “Come down and have lunch with me.”

You sighed, torn between your work responsibilities and the allure of his bold, carefree attitude. You had meetings lined up, deadlines to meet… but a part of you couldn’t shake the memory of how alive you felt last night. Maybe this was a side of you worth exploring.

“I can’t,” you said, your voice firm. “I have work to do.”

“Alright,” Chris said, a hint of a smile in his voice. “I’ll wait.”

And wait he did. Every day for the next week, he was there — waiting outside your office, sending you playful texts, making it clear he wasn’t going anywhere. One day, he even left a small gift at the front desk — a sleek, custom-made helmet with a note that read: “For when you finally agree to ride with me.”

Your resolve was slowly breaking, but you held on. Work came first. It always had.

---

A Week Later

It was another long day at the office, and as you stepped out of the building, there he was again. But this time, instead of waiting by his bike, Chris stood right by the door. He had a bouquet of white lilies in hand, looking out of place in his leather jacket, but somehow, it made your heart flutter.

“Flowers now?” you asked, raising an eyebrow. “You’re really pulling out all the stops.”

Chris smiled, handing them to you. “Figured you deserved something beautiful after a hard week.”

You stared at him for a moment, something inside you shifting. This wasn’t just a guy who wanted to get your number or flirt for a few days. He was serious. And despite your better judgment, you found yourself wanting to let him in.

With a sigh, you took the flowers and smiled softly. “Fine,” you said. “One ride. But if I regret this—”

“You won’t,” he interrupted, grinning as he handed you the helmet. “I promise.”

---

The wind whipped through your hair as you clung to Chris’s back, the city lights blurring around you. For the first time in what felt like forever, you weren’t thinking about work, or deadlines, or responsibilities. You were just… living.

When the ride ended, you couldn’t wipe the smile from your face. Chris parked the bike and turned to you, his eyes gleaming with amusement. “Told you you’d like it.”

You laughed, feeling lighter than you had in years. “Okay, maybe I did.”

Chris stepped closer, his voice softening. “I like this side of you.”

You glanced up at him, your heart racing for an entirely different reason now. “What if I can’t always be like this?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

He smiled, reaching out to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “Then I’ll wait for the moments when you can. I like all of you, businesswoman and all.”

Your breath caught in your throat as he leaned in, his lips brushing softly against yours. It was gentle at first, a tentative kiss, but soon it deepened, filled with the unspoken connection that had been building between you both.

When you finally pulled away, you were breathless, your mind swirling with thoughts of everything that had led you here.

“I think I made the right decision,” you whispered, smiling.

Chris grinned, his hands still resting on your waist. “Told you I’d make sure you wouldn’t regret it.”

And for the first time in a long while, you knew he was right.

[bratzkoo]

positions | wonwoo

Author: bratzkoo Pairing: wonwoo x nurse! reader Genre: fluff, more fluff Rating: PG-13 Word count: 1.3k Warnings/note: first wonwoo fic and it's inspired by ariana's song positions and my Anna, my best friend and the best nurse in the world. Written in Third person and Wonwoo's POV.

summary: it’s a matter of time before you tell your boyfriend that as long as he’s down for you, you’re down too.

taglist (hit me up if you wanna be added): -​

requests are open, but you can just say hi! | masterlist

The scent of sautéing garlic and ginger wafted through Wonwoo's apartment as he carefully stirred the contents of a sizzling pan. His brow furrowed in concentration, eyes darting between the stove and his phone propped up on the counter, displaying a cooking tutorial video. The sound of keys jingling outside the door made him look up, a small smile tugging at his lips.

Y/N breezed in, her presence immediately filling the space with a vibrant energy that Wonwoo had grown to love over the past seven months. "Hey, you," she called out, kicking off her shoes and padding towards the kitchen. "Something smells amazing in here."

Wonwoo's smile widened as he turned to face her. "Welcome back. How was your shift at the hospital?"

Y/N groaned dramatically, draping herself over the kitchen island. "Exhausting. But rewarding. We had a patient recover from a difficult surgery today." She perked up, sniffing the air curiously. "What are you making? It doesn't smell like your usual kimchi jjigae."

"Ah, well," Wonwoo rubbed the back of his neck, a hint of shyness creeping into his voice. "I thought I'd try something new. It's supposed to be mapo tofu, but..." He gestured vaguely at the pan, where the sauce was a shade darker than the video suggested it should be.

Y/N's eyes softened as she rounded the island to peer into the pan. "Wonwoo, that's so sweet. You didn't have to go to all this trouble."

"It's no trouble," he murmured, his ears turning slightly pink. "I know you've been working hard lately. I wanted to do something nice for you."

Y/N reached up, cupping his cheek gently. "You're always doing nice things for me," she said softly, before a mischievous glint entered her eyes. "Even if some of them are potential fire hazards."

Wonwoo huffed out a laugh, gently bumping her with his hip. "Very funny. Why don't you set the table while I finish up here? I promise not to burn the place down in the next five minutes."

As they settled into dinner, Wonwoo couldn't help but marvel at how comfortable this all felt. Seven months ago, he never would have imagined himself here, sharing a meal he cooked (albeit imperfectly) with a woman who had somehow managed to slip past all his carefully constructed walls.

"So," Y/N said around a mouthful of tofu, "tell me about your day. How was practice?"

Wonwoo launched into a recap of SEVENTEEN's latest choreography session, complete with dramatic reenactments of Seungkwan's latest aegyo attempts and Mingyu's clumsy mishaps. Y/N listened attentively, laughing at all the right moments and asking questions that showed she genuinely cared about his work and his members.

As their laughter subsided, a comfortable silence fell over them. Wonwoo found himself staring at Y/N, taking in the way her eyes crinkled when she smiled, the little dimple that appeared on her left cheek. A warmth bloomed in his chest, a feeling he'd been experiencing more and more lately but hadn't quite put a name to yet.

"Oh!" Y/N exclaimed suddenly, breaking Wonwoo out of his reverie. "I almost forgot to tell you. You know my friend Alexys? She called me today, all excited because her boyfriend finally said 'I love you' to her."

Wonwoo felt his heart skip a beat. "Oh?" he managed, trying to keep his voice neutral. "That's... nice."

Y/N nodded, seemingly oblivious to Wonwoo's sudden tension. "Yeah, they've been together for about as long as we have. Can you believe it's been almost seven months already?"

"Time flies," Wonwoo murmured, his mind racing. Were they at that point? Should he have said it already? Did Y/N expect him to say it? The thought of those three little words suddenly felt monumental, and he found himself at a loss.

If Y/N noticed his internal struggle, she didn't show it. Instead, she stood up, gathering their empty plates. "Come on, let's clean up. I'll wash, you dry?"

Grateful for the distraction, Wonwoo nodded, following her to the sink. They fell into an easy rhythm, Y/N washing and rinsing while Wonwoo dried and put away. It struck him how well they moved together, anticipating each other's movements without a word.

As Y/N handed him the last plate, their fingers brushed, sending a jolt of electricity through Wonwoo. Their eyes met, and for a moment, the air between them felt charged with unspoken words.

The moment was broken by the sudden blare of music from Wonwoo's phone. He had forgotten he'd set it to play his evening playlist. The opening notes of Ariana Grande's "Positions" filled the apartment.

Y/N's face lit up. "Oh, I love this song!" Without warning, she grabbed Wonwoo's hand, pulling him into the living room. "Dance with me!"

Wonwoo stumbled after her, laughing despite his initial reluctance. "Y/N, you know I'm not much of a dancer outside of work."

"Nonsense," she retorted, already swaying to the beat. "I've seen your performances. Now come on, show me those moves, Mr. Pop star."

As they danced, Wonwoo found himself relaxing, letting the music guide his movements. He spun Y/N around, delighting in her laughter. When she pressed close to him during the chorus, singing along softly, Wonwoo felt that warmth in his chest expand, threatening to overwhelm him.

In that moment, watching Y/N move with abandon, her eyes sparkling with joy, Wonwoo realized something. This feeling, this warmth that had been growing for months – it was love. He was in love with Y/N.

The realization should have terrified him. Wonwoo had always been cautious with his heart, keeping people at arm's length. But as Y/N looked up at him, her smile radiant, he found that he wasn't scared at all. This felt right. It felt like coming home.

As the song slowed for the bridge, Y/N's movements became more languid. She draped her arms around Wonwoo's neck, swaying gently. "You know," she said softly, her eyes never leaving his, "as long as you're down for me, I'm down too."

Wonwoo's breath caught in his throat. He recognized the weight behind her words, the echo of the song's lyrics carrying a deeper meaning. This was Y/N, brave and beautiful Y/N, putting her heart on the line.

Time seemed to stand still as Wonwoo gazed into Y/N's eyes. He saw hope there, and vulnerability, and something else – something that mirrored the feeling in his own chest.

"Y/N," he whispered, his voice rough with emotion. "I love you."

Y/N's eyes widened, a small gasp escaping her lips. For a heart-stopping moment, Wonwoo feared he had misread the situation. But then Y/N's face broke into the most beautiful smile he had ever seen.

"I love you too, Wonwoo," she breathed, her voice thick with unshed tears of joy.

Wonwoo pulled her closer, resting his forehead against hers. They stayed like that, swaying gently as the song played on, both marveling at the newfound depth of their connection.

As the final chorus swelled, Wonwoo, feeling bold, attempted to dip Y/N. He miscalculated slightly, nearly dropping her, but managed to catch her at the last second. They froze for a moment before bursting into laughter.

"Maybe stick to the choreography your team gives you," Y/N giggled as Wonwoo pulled her upright.

"Noted," Wonwoo chuckled, cupping her face gently. "But I think I'll keep improvising with you."

As their laughter faded, Wonwoo leaned in, capturing Y/N's lips in a soft, sweet kiss. The song came to an end, but they barely noticed, lost in their own world of newfound love and endless possibilities.

In that moment, as they held each other close in the middle of Wonwoo's living room, both knew that whatever positions life might put them in, they'd face them together, always down for each other, always in love.

[r0-boat]

Whb Demon Kings as fathers from best to worst.

Sfw yet dark because children are involved

This is just for fun a little fantasy don't have babies with any of these chuckle fucks.

Cw: toxic familial (kings love their kids, but they ain't perfect :/ the kid are no better)

I firmly believe that Satan is a good father. The only reason why he's so low is because his anger. His child is a firecracker and he fully supports that rage anger "That's my little baby... Off to destroy the angels..."

Lucifer

When he does not know how to take care of a child he will sit down and read. He will make sure your child and you are healthy and safe.

Holding his child in his arms, His eyes soften this tiny little being you had made and he helped bring into this world.

Lucifer can be overprotective over his child at any age they are still his little young one And that will never change, He helps parent happily holding his child and his arms and feeding them. He is the demon of pride and he wants his child to be the best. He wants his child ready for one day they will rule Paradise Lost. When they're old enough he will tell them everything.

Lucifer is a strict father yet caring. He strict because he loves The both of you these rules are in place for a reason.

Satan

He is the guy to SCREAM his child name in assemblies, and aggressively root for them in team sports. "FUCK YEA! THATS MY FUCKING KID!!"

Trying to punish would be a nightmare. Your kid is the child of Wraith They and his father getting fights half of Gehenna will be destroyed. At least Satan is there to stop tantrums.

He is the angry soccer mom yelling at team to get in the car so he can take them to a game to beat the shit out of Tartaros team and mammon's kid. He has snacks juice everything

Mammon

Listen Mammon's got money so he with get his kid anything they will ever desire. The reason why he's third is because that child will be spoiled rotten. Tartaros little royal...

Anything that kid wants Mammon will get. Good luck trying to unravel that when Mammon is constantly telling them about how important they are how they own everything.

That's his child so of course everything he owns is theirs now... But the child is the prince of greed so they are gonna want things on there own. There with be desputes on gold and materials. However on like Satan and his child these two actually talk through their disputes instead of wrestling they have a very mature almost interrogation like discussion of what comes they own and they will own.

If you think the spoiling for you is going to stop when the child is born you're wrong. In fact now that you have a wealthy child and husband they're both going to work together to spoil beloved Mom/spouse.

Beelzebub

This man does not handle responsibility well. He loves his kid but He will be skipping out on at most 50% on parental responsibilities. He does start stepping up a little bit. He actually does go to work...

Beel adores his kid, Beel spends a lot of time with them. He bought a baby sling to carry them around when he goes to work. He wants to show his child all the beautiful spots in hell. When any devil asks him about his kid he with tell you all about them.

Sadly he is forgetful especially with dates. Please remind him about important miles downs or important things that his child has going on. He will feel very remorseful if he forgets.

He can be a good father, just watch that man.

Leviathan

No one is surprised. This man is the literal embodiment of envy. Don't get me wrong he does love his child. It is his kid, and he is trying. He wants to be a father He wants to be a father he never got, as a kid he didn't even know what a parent was So of course he'd want to give his child a life he wish he got. He holds his child, He helps you feed them, And he brings them everywhere. He lets you rest. However that jealousy does flare up which leads him to do childish things.

And he is protective of his kid. of course he is. That is his kid. His kid with you a proof of his love. Proof that you are his. Every time he looks at them he sees a mix of you and him and his heart fills with love. A moment of softness with Levi when he thinks about how his child will a fine Prince one day.

And as the child of envy they are going to be a literal copy of him. When they get older there will be a lot of father vs child moments especially with getting your attention. Your child loves their father, And they do want to make him proud. They love being The Prince of envy, They want to be just like him.

I think parent child duo is even more dangerous. Teaming up to fight a common threat is more often than you think. Envy is just a weird way they bond I guess. You will never get peace in that household.

[reachedrafe]

The Party

Summary : Drunk at a party, you almost hook up with Rafe Cameron, but when you accidentally confess you're a virgin, he stops, saying he wants your first time to be special. You get mad in the heat of the moment, your drunken self not understanding him. But the next morning, you thank him.

Warnings : alcohol, mention of virginity and Rafe being considerate!

The house was buzzing with energy, the beat of the music vibrating through the walls as people danced and laughed, their voices blending together in a chaotic symphony. The air was thick with the smell of alcohol and sweat, and you could feel the heat rising from the crowded living room where bodies pressed against each other, swaying to the rhythm.

You were on your third—or was it your fourth?—drink of the night, the liquid courage warming your insides as you made your way through the party. Your head felt light, and everything around you seemed to blur at the edges. You spotted Rafe Cameron across the room, leaning against the wall with that confident smirk that made your heart skip a beat every time you saw it. His eyes met yours, and a slow, knowing smile spread across his lips.

Rafe was dangerous in all the ways that excited you. He was the kind of guy your friends warned you about, the kind that broke hearts and left you wanting more. But tonight, you didn’t care about any of that. Tonight, you wanted to feel something—anything—and Rafe seemed like the perfect way to do that.

You felt a surge of boldness wash over you as you walked up to him, swaying slightly as you reached out to touch his arm. “Hey, Rafe,” you said, your voice slightly slurred.

“Hey, yourself,” he replied, his gaze lingering on you, taking in your flushed cheeks and the way your dress clung to your curves. “Having fun?”

“Maybe,” you teased, leaning in closer. “But I think I could be having more fun.”

Rafe raised an eyebrow, clearly amused by your drunken flirtation. “Oh yeah? What do you have in mind?”

You didn’t need to say anything more. The look in your eyes told him everything he needed to know. Without a word, he took your hand and led you through the crowd, up the stairs to one of the empty bedrooms. Your heart raced with anticipation as he closed the door behind you, the noise from the party muffled as you found yourself alone with him.

Rafe’s hands were on you in an instant, his lips crashing against yours in a heated kiss that left you breathless. You moaned into his mouth as his fingers trailed down your sides, sending shivers through your entire body. This was exactly what you wanted—to lose yourself in the moment, to forget everything else.

But as Rafe’s hands slid under your dress, your mind started to spin, and before you could stop yourself, the words tumbled out of your mouth. “Rafe, I’m a virgin.”

Rafe froze, his lips stilling against your neck as the words registered. He pulled back slightly, his brows furrowed as he looked at you. “What?”

You felt a wave of embarrassment wash over you as you realized what you’d just admitted. “I’m a virgin,” you repeated, your voice barely above a whisper. “But it’s fine, Rafe. I want this. I want you.”

He shook his head, stepping back from you, his expression unreadable. “No, not like this. I’m not gonna be your first when you’re drunk.”

“Rafe, please,” you pleaded, reaching for him again, but he gently pushed your hands away.

“I’m serious,” he said, his tone firm but soft. “You’ll hate me for it in the morning. I don’t want your first time to be something you regret.”

Frustration bubbled up inside you. “Why are you being like this? I thought this is what you wanted.”

“It is,” Rafe admitted, his voice strained. “But not like this. Not when you’re not fully here with me.”

You huffed in annoyance, feeling rejected and confused. “Fine,” you snapped, turning away from him. “Just leave then.”

Rafe sighed, running a hand through his hair as he looked at you one last time. “Get some rest, okay? We’ll talk in the morning.” With that, he left the room, closing the door quietly behind him.

The morning after light streamed through the curtains, and you groaned as the pounding in your head made itself known. Slowly, the events of last night came back to you, and you felt a mix of embarrassment and gratitude wash over you.

You found Rafe downstairs in the kitchen, sipping coffee as he leaned against the counter. He looked up when he heard you enter, his expression cautious.

“Hey,” you said, your voice a little hoarse.

“Hey,” he replied, his eyes searching yours. “How are you feeling?

“Like I got hit by a truck,” you admitted, rubbing your temples. “But, about last night...”

Rafe set his mug down and walked over to you, his eyes softening. “You don’t have to say anything. I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

You took a deep breath, feeling a bit awkward but knowing you needed to say it. “Thank you, Rafe. For stopping. I was really mad at you last night, but you were right. I would’ve regretted it.”

Rafe smiled, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “You deserve better than a drunken mistake. When it happens, I want it to be something you remember for the right reasons.”

You felt your heart flutter at his words, the sincerity in his eyes making you realize that maybe there was more to Rafe than you’d given him credit for.

“Maybe we could try again sometime,” you suggested, a shy smile playing on your lips. “When I’m sober.”

Rafe chuckled, pulling you into a gentle hug. “I’d like that.”

As you rested your head against his chest, you couldn’t help but feel grateful that Rafe had been there for you, not just as the guy you wanted, but as someone who cared enough to wait for the right moment.

And maybe, just maybe, that moment would come sooner than you thought.

[creative-caramel-coffee]

Parkers, Pots & Periods 

Summary: Reader is Peter’s sister and is going on a field trip to stark industries, the catch? She’s on her period and has POTS… things go badly and Wanda and Nat step in to take care of you. 

Words: 2324

TW: Periods, Pain, nausea (no puking), POTS, Cramps, Bullying, fainting, name calling, Flash (that’s its own warning), Flashes “nicknames” for peter, field trip trope. 

A/n Hi guys I’m alive! Sorry for disappearing (kinda). My life is chaos incarnate. I accidently got stabbed in the thigh yesterday.  But I stuck an avengers Band-Aid on it and I was fine :D

Somehow the universe decided to screw your over three times today. The first, you had POTS, whilst not a new condition it did make the next two things worse. Second you had a trip to stark towers which meant a lot of standing on a tour and being around your class and knowing the avengers would be lurking nearby. And third, the real icing on the cake … you were on your period as if you had blood to lose as someone with POTS and a low blood volume to start with. 

So that was how you were doing today as you arrived at school. Sure, you had graduated about three years ago but there had been talks that someone had found out Peter’s identity and was planning something, which was how you ended up undercover to be a glorified bodyguard for peter… well a glorified babysitter with homework.  You had been chosen by the team as you were the second youngest next to Peter and as a lesser-known member of the team who was young, you could pass as a high school student without raising suspicions. ‘Yay me.’ You thought sarcastically. Leaving high school was amazing and having to go back to babysit your little brother… not so much. 

You skipped training this morning as you were already feeling quite awful due to your period and your POTS which was always made worse when it was shark week. 

As you arrived at school with Peter, happy dropped you both at the block around the corner and you shouldered your old school backpack and sighed. 

“Let’s get this over with.” You grumbled and peter nodded. Neither of you feeling particularly excited to go on a trip through your own house with classmates who hated you. 

Peter was just as unhappy; flash had been giving him shit all week for his internship and wanted desperately to prove the Parker boy a liar today. When you had found out about the bullying you almost intervened before Peter had a talk with you. He reminded you of what uncle ben had said to you both before he died, and your eyes glossed over as you made the decision to respect his wishes and promise to your late uncle. 

As your shoes slapped the pavement with exaggerated steps and dragging movements, a grin itched your face when Ned began waving to you from across the quad. MJ looked up and gave a single half handed wave cross salute before going back to her sketchbook, her legs kicked up on the picnic table. 

You liked MJ and Ned. They had welcomed you to their group and they knew that you had already graduated but agreed to stay quiet if it meant keeping peter safe. They both knew you and your brothers’ real identities. As the second spider that protected the city aside from your brother and Natasha you had decided to keep your identity quiet until Peter graduated, knowing he would have just as many issues with the press if you were unmasked before he graduated compared to him being unmasked. 

You threw your backpack down and threw your head into your arms, letting out an exaggerated groan. 

“You feelin’ alright bonehead?” MJ said looking up from her sketch. 

You simply grunted before turning your head, still resting on your arms to look at her through a furrowed brow. 

“Shark week.” Was all you said, and MJ nodded before turning to her bag and digging around before fishing out a chocolate bar she threw at your head. Your spider sense kicked in and your hand flew up and caught it. 

“Thanks MJ.” You grunted. 

“Anytime Parker.” She said going back to her sketchbook. You leaned over to glance at the page and snorted. MJ simply suppressed a grin and kept working on the detailed drawing of Flash trapped in a display case at stark towers with a placard that read “Bullied Peter Stark, glass tapping encouraged.” With a drawing of Tony leaning on the display case eating a banana with Nat handing out tomatoes to the rest of the team to throw at flash. Leave it to MJ to make this trip better. 

You thought maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. But curse your Parker luck because that was the moment flash began to storm over. MJ quickly shut her sketchbook as flash stood over Peter.

“Well, well, well. If it isn’t penis Parker. I wasn’t expecting you to show up today. With your big lie going public today I thought you would be too much of a wuss to show up. Prepare to be publicly humiliated Parker. Today is the day your life is torn to shreds.” He said.

“Like the lie about you having a brain flash ‘cuz I think everyone knows that’s fake.” MJ said flicking a few pencil shavings at him. She glared at him, and he glared back before huffing. 

“Whatever idiots. I’ll see you on the bus. Parker don’t forget I would hate for you to miss your public execution.” He spat and headed off to wherever it was Flash lurked between tormenting Peter.

“Petey…” you began. 

“No y/n I’m handling it.” He said shutting you down. 

“Alright. Alright. I’ll leave it alone.” You said while silently wishing a piano to miraculously fall on flash. You desperately wanted to help but you also wanted to respect Peter’s decision especially as you knew his reason was fuelled by a very personal experience that had changed both of you tremendously. 

As the last class before the field trip ended you felt like death warmed over. Your head hurt and your period was only making your POTS worse. As you stood from your chair, you had to hold onto the table as your vision went fuzzy for a second. When your sight cleared Peter shot you a pointed look which you shrugged off and headed for the bus. 

If there was one thing you didn’t miss from high school it was field trips, twenty sweaty teenagers in a bus for who knows how long, most likely with no air conditioning which would only contribute to you feeling worse.  None of that was appealing to you in the slightest. 

As you all filed onto the bus you groaned when you sat down, putting your head in your hands, and taking deep breaths. The cramps had been getting worse all day and they were toeing the line of unbearable. 

MJ sat next to you and kept a close eye on your movements or lack thereof. 

As the bus lurched with the traffic you suppressed any of the wounded animal noises that were trying to escape you.

After what seemed like a torturously long bus trip you felt the bus slow to a stop. Looking outside the logo of stark towers was the first thing your eyes fixed on. 

As everyone filed off the bus you swayed slightly trying to fight off the dizzy lightheaded mess along with the cramping. Life really wasn’t being kind to you. 

With a hand resting around your stomach, you watched Peter sidestep flashes foot and walk inside. 

The building was cool when you entered which made you feel a tiny bit better but still largely awful. 

As the tour guide passed out the lanyards you and Peter hung around in the back. 

“I bet puny Parker won’t even have a lanyard, he’s too poor to be let in.” Flash said nearby and your fist tightened at your side in an attempt to stay there. 

When all the passes were handed out Flash was the first to point out you and Peter didn’t have one. 

“Hey! The Parker’s are missing their badges. We’ll have to leave them behind. Sorry no poor people allowed.” He said with a big grin and Peter looked like a deer in headlights as everyone turned to face the two of you. You just shrugged. 

“Friday?” The tour guide asked. “Has there been a mistake?”

“Ms Parker and Mister Parker do not require badges as they have tier 10 clearance, access is granted to all floors, labs and rooms.” A voice said from the ceiling startling a few people.

“That’s Friday.” The tour guide explained “she’s tony starks AI and she runs the tower.”

“I don’t know how you hacked the system, but you will pay Parker’s.” Flash said sticking a finger in Peter’s face. 

“Whatever flash, you’re just mad that you have level 1 clearance and can’t go in the toilets without permission.”  MJ said as flash stormed off after the group. 

As the tour progressed you were feeling worse and worse, all this walking was making the cramps worse, and all the standing was aggregating your POTS. Your vision had been spotty for a while now and your legs hurt. Your midsection was cramping something awful, and you saw no end in sight. 

As the group was shown to the museum floor you did your best to stay rooted to your body as your head felt like it was floating away. 

“Y/n/n you should really go home. If you sneak off upstairs, I’ll cover for you.” Peter said and MJ nodded. 

“I know your white girl, but you’re not meant to be that white… ever.” MJ said and you shot her a small glare with did nothing to deter her. 

“Can’t I have to stay with Peter.” You said swallowing down the nausea you had begun to feel. 

“I can look out for myself.” He said in a soft tone. But you shook your head which was a terrible idea as you swayed, having to lean on the wall the stay upright. 

“Right, that’s enough….” Peter begun but your hearing was fading as Peter seemed to keep talking. 

As your hearing and vision began to drift away Peter began softly alerting Friday to the situation, as he requested Wanda of Natasha to come and get you.

As he saw a flash of red hair down the hall, his spider sense flared, and he was just in time to catch you as your body finally gave up and went slack. 

Natasha seemed to arrive almost at the same time you passed out into Peter’s arms. 

The group had moved on and it seemed they were none to wiser to the avenger’s presence. 

Peter looked panicked for a second as he held you up. 

“I’ve got her Pete.” Natasha said as she picked you up effortlessly into a bridal carry.  “Go catch up with your group Wanda and I will look after her. Don’t worry.” 

“Alright. Text me updates.” He said and Natasha nodded dutifully before carrying you to the elevator.

When she arrived back on your floor that you shared with the two redheads, you shifted in her arms, letting out a small whimper. 

Natasha walked over to the door to her room, opening it to see Wanda already having everything set up for a movie day. 

“Oh my god is she ok? I know Peter said it was bad but … is she out?” Wanda said coming over and fussing. 

“She passed out as I got there. She must be feeling terrible.” Nat said as she set you down on the bed gently. Wanda came and sat next to you as Nat changed into some comfy clothes and took to your other side. 

Wanda’s hands carding through your hair was the first thing you registered when you came to.

“Nat, I think she’s coming around.” Wanda said softly. 

You let out a small, wounded noise as you tucked your knees to your chest in an attempt to stave off the relentless cramps. 

“Shhh y/n/n it’s ok. Natty and I have you baby. You’re alright.” Wanda said softly.

You whimpered again and shifted to clutch your midsection.

“Cramps?” Wanda asked knowingly still playing with your hair.

“Mmm.” You said softly. 

Before you knew it a hot pack was being slid onto your stomach and your muscles went lax as Wanda pulled you into her lap.

You opened an eye and saw her smiling down at you. 

“Hello sweet girl. How are you feeling.” She said gently.

“Bad.” You hummed.

“Chocolate?” Natasha said as she offered you an already unwrapped chocolate bar. Not bothering to use your hands you began eating it while Nat still held it. Making her smile softly in amusement as she fed you the chocolate. 

“Oh my god, I left Peter!” You said scrambling to sit up but Wanda kept you pinned. 

“It’s alright baby. Fridays watching him and you’re in no condition to be doing anything other than cuddling and watching movies with us. Ok?” Wanda said. She could see the gears turning behind your eyes and gently turned your chin to look at her. 

“Okay sweet girl?” She said again. 

“Okay.” You said softly. 

“Excellent. Now you pick the first movie.” Wanda said as Natasha returned with popcorn despite you not having seen her leave. 

As the day went on you began to feel better. Between the salty popcorn Wanda was feeding you and the blue electrolyte drinks that were stocked in Natasha’s mini fridge you began to feel less terrible. 

The girls had everything you needed, from a warm heat pack to chocolate to cuddles. You eventually drifted off feeling warm and only slightly in pain. Knowing you were safe with them. 

@barbarasstar @charlie56 @vlynes @lovelyy-moonlight