#that my head feels like it’s exploding because i either have bits and pieces

[reiding-writing]

Hi can i request one Reader is kinda cold, not mean tho, and she and spence have to share an hotel room and there is only one bed and she gets shy?? Ty 💜

ROOMMATES [PART ONE]

/ˈɹu(m)ˌmeɪt/ /part two/

when you and spencer share a room together on a case, you find yourself a little out of character at the revelation you’ll have to share a bed with him

WARNINGS: cold but not antagonistic reader

spencer reid x cold!reader || fluff? || 1.4k || series masterlist!

a/n: two posts in one day? look at me being productive- also i have formed an emotional attachment to cold!reader and i will be thinking about them for the rest of the day thank you for listening to my ted talk

main masterlist!!

You resign yourself to your fate as soon as Morgan refuses Spencer’s unspoken question.

“Absolutely not.”

It’s something that just comes with the job you suppose. Sometimes you have to spend a night sharing a dingy motel room with one of your teammates because you’re working a case in the middle of nowhere and the town you’re in has 200 people living there.

Okay. Maybe that was a bit of an exaggeration. There was 1,714 people living there.

But still.

You liked your own space and your own company and as much as you enjoyed Spencer’s presence you were exhausted and just wanted to get some rest without him rattling in your ear about how unhygienic hotel rooms were.

Of course, he didn’t know that you didn’t mind him. Your behavioural tells were nothing more than a slight softening of your eyes when he walked into a room, something that, although Morgan found riveting to tease you for, he couldn’t actually be sure was even true.

Still, your assumptions were correct, and after Garcia bagged Morgan and JJ stuck with Emily, you didn’t even have to glance in Hotch’s direction to know that he would be pairing with Rossi and leaving you with Spencer.

You can feel his eyes burn a hole into the side of your head as he comes to the same realisation, and you slide one of the room keys off the table before gesturing for him to follow after you with a nod of your head.

He does of course, trailing after you like a lost puppy and making your heart want to explode in your chest. But he didn’t know that.

You want to punch yourself sometimes for being so dismissive, and not just to Spencer. The team had treated you with nothing but kindness over the four years you’d worked with them. But some things just don’t change. And so you lock your emotions away and continue to put on a front to protect your self-perceived image.

The door struggles to open even after you unlock it, the hinge pin stiff and getting caught on the latch as you try to push it forwards, but you manage with a bit of extra effort.

The room isn’t pretty by any means, but it’s not horrible either. The walls are a clean cream, bordered by a white ceiling and a planked wooden floor. There’s a window on the right wall and a door to what you assume to be a bathroom on the left.

All well and good.

Well…

Maybe not.

You can feel Spencer’s apprehension mirror your own as the two of you stare at the room’s centre piece. A double bed. One double bed. A singular bed that you are going to have to share with Spencer Reid.

You imagine that his head is running through all of the germs it harbours. How hotel beds are unsanitary and that they’re dirtier than a toilet seat or something like that.

You didn’t care about germs.

You cared about the fact that you would have to share a bed with Spencer Reid.

You wonder if Morgan denied Spencer on purpose. Whether he knew that the rooms only had one bed each and that by saying no to sharing a room with Spencer you would have to and it would give him more opportunities to make fun of your seeming soft spot towards the genius.

Granted, you wouldn’t have been thrilled to share a bed with any of your teammates, but for some reason it was him that made you feel like you were about to implode on yourself. But he didn’t know that.

You’re sure that if you had bunked with Emily, JJ or even Morgan himself that you would’ve just sucked it up and gotten on with it, but something about the presence of Spencer Reid made you feel different. Nervous maybe? No, it was just- different.

You take a moment to compose yourself as Spencer slides past you into the room, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath in through your nose, although when you open them again Spencer is staring at you like you have a gun pointed at him and it almost makes you forget the situation you’ve found yourself in.

“I can- um-” Spencer purses his lips into a tight line, fiddling with his hands as he anxiously follows your expression. “I should go and ask Garcia to switch rooms-”

“You don’t want to share with me?” You’re not sure whether your question is rooted in concern for Spencer being uncomfortable or mild offence at the fact that he doesn’t want to share a room with you.

Either way it’s like you’ve dipped your vocal chords in ice and every word you speak washes down his back like a cold shower.

“I- No- I mean- I- You-” Spencer gives up on explaining himself with an exasperated sigh and a slump of his shoulders. He had no idea how to talk to you.

Every time you so much as glanced in his direction he felt like you were trying to bore a hole in his brain with your eyes and it was intimidating.

He was fascinated by your brain, by your knowledge and your inherent knack for human psychology, but you were scary, and it always left him afraid that he was going to do something wrong.

The worst part was it wasn’t even logically founded.

Apart from the intensity of your eyes and the frown you always had on your face you’d never actually been antagonistic to anyone. You were dismissive sure, not bothering to form emotional connections to the rest of the team and almost entirely keeping to yourself, but you were never nasty.

There was no hatred in the way you carried yourself, just disinterest. And that arguably made it worse.

“Reid.” Your voice cut through his train of thought like a knife, and his eyes turn up towards your own with a start. They’re big and round and they shine under the overhead light and you are really getting distracted focus dammit. “Are you comfortable staying in this room with me overnight or not?”

It’s about the time where you start berating your inherent lack of social grace again, your question sounding extremely harsh compared to the actual intention behind it.

“I- Yeah- Yes- I just- you don’t look very happy…” Spencer’s pretty sure this is the first time he’s ever mentioned your demeanour to you before, and he’s unsure whether to be proud of himself or to curl into a ball and disappear as he watches a small knit form in your eyebrows.

“I’m fine, let’s sleep.” You are not fine. For whatever reason your hands are sweaty and all of a sudden the room is a little too warm for your comfort. “I’m going to change in the bathroom,”

“Okay-” Spencer nods a little too enthusiastically for his own liking. Why was he so intimidated by you? It’s not like you’ve ever actually shown any distaste for him.

The minute you shut the door of the bathroom behind you you practically melt under your own body temperature.

But he didn’t know that.

part two!!

[cipheress-to-k-pop]

Tell Me Something (Drabble)

Pairing: Dick Grayson as Robin x Reader (Drabble)

A/N: Daddy's getting hot at the daily bugle body shop

"Tell me something." Dick murmured, hands grazing over your thighs as you climbed into his lap, knees on either sides of his hips. You hummed and leaned in to kiss him lightly.

"I can tell you a secret." You said, remembering a particular bit of juicy gossip you had been waiting to tell him. When you were reminded, you couldn't help the giggles that began leaving you.

"Alright, go ahead."

Your eyes raised in mock offense, "What? No payment? Even the thugs in Gotham get paid better for information."

He chuckled, cupping your cheek with one hand and pulling you in for a long kiss. You sighed happily and gently threaded your fingers through his hair, overwhelmed by the scent of his shampoo.

When you pulled away, he was giving you a lazy smile which you returned, softly capturing his lips one last time before pulling away.

"Are you gonna tell me now?"

You nodded, readjusting yourself in his lap and resting your hands on his chest, "Remember that internship I did at the Daily Bugle?"

He chuckled at your bright grin, "Those three weeks where you were so far away from me I could feel my heart breaking in my chest with each passing second? Hm, not at all."

Your eyes softened at him. He was always so cute, it had your stomach turning into knots. He was rewarded for his sweetness with another kiss.

"Well, I got a piece of juicy gossip about a certain reporter while I was there."

"Are you gonna tell me? Or are you gonna keep dancing around the topic when it looks like you're clearly going to explode if you don't—"

"Clark has a reputation for being the office slut!" You exclaimed happily, bursting into flurries of giggles after that and he was so dumbstruck that he couldn't even respond for a good second.

"What?"

Your giggles trailed off as you nodded, "Well, he's always having one on one interviews with so many heroes and famous people like Wonder Woman and Oliver Queen. And they've seen him come out of his office with messy hair, buttons done incorrectly on his shirt and some even ripped off." You explained, smirking at the implication and double meanings that only the two of you would understand.

He was laughing hard, gripping your thighs as he leaned his head back on the couch. You smiled at him, leaning in to place a warm kiss on his neck before you pulled away again.

"It gets better."

"How could it possibly—"

"They think he's having an affair with someone." You began, pursing your lips to try and control your giant smile and Dick felt butterflies erupt from his stomach at the sight of you. You were so gorgeous, smiling brightly at him while you tried to make him laugh.

"With who?"

"Well, who does he meet very often? Someone who always seems like they're hiding something? Someone who is painfully single because of the unrequited love with a married reporter?"

His eyes widened and an evil smirk spread on his face, "You don't mean—"

You cackled, slapping your hands on his chest, "Superman's having an affair with your dad!"

[lovebugism]

hi babe hope this isn’t too personal but not having the greatest time right now. therapist did not answer any of my calls today so im kinda a mess 🥲🥲 if you’re willing to write any kind of comfort fic with any character that would be the best 💗💗💗

hi anon! i hope things are going better now! take this eddie munson comfort fic as my attempts to make you feel a wee bit better ily mwah <3

You were pretty good at taking care of yourself most of the time. Eddie always thought your innate sense of responsibility was extremely hot — mostly because it meant that you were even better at taking care of him.

He said it was a perk of being your boyfriend — “one of many,” he’d say, just before smacking a kiss to your cheek.

You were the yin to his yang in that way. Peace in all his chaos.

Eddie, himself, was a being who thrived on mayhem. There wasn’t a single thing he loved more than unpredictability — well, you, of course. Then maybe DnD. But spontaneity was a close third.

He isn’t quite sure how to live his life without the company of total disarray. He isn’t sure he would want to if he had the chance either. The unexpected makes things fun. At least, that’s what he always tells you. You’re not so sure.

When he makes you late to things because of his horrible time management skills, or he can’t find his keys because they’re hidden somewhere underneath a pile of clothes in the corner of his room, it feels a little like the end of the world.

And not just in the oh no, this thing is really stressing me out; good thing I know it’s illogical sort of way. But in the oh fuck, we’re gonna be ten minutes late to this get-together where there are zero consequences whether we show up or not, but it’s inducing so much panic that I’m not sure how long I’ll be able to function properly.

You’ve gotten pretty good at hiding your fear over the years. It’s just that Eddie’s so damn attuned to everything going on in your head that it makes it insanely difficult to wallow in your dread alone.

He knows when you start pacing and talking a million miles a minute that something’s working you up. He knows when you start getting snappy and don’t think his jokes are funny anymore that you’re close to your breaking point. He knows when you stop talking altogether that your entire world is caving in around you.

So Eddie takes great care in getting to things on time and tidying up his room when you're around. He doesn’t even care that he finds it all a bit irrational, he just wants to make things easier for you. Even if it means getting to Steve’s house an hour before everyone else or actually folding his clothes before putting them in drawers.

Eddie knows you use structure like a weapon rather than a shield. Organization isn't a way to keep your life together, it’s to keep it from falling apart. When something is out of order, when there’s one piece out of place, it’s not an easy fix — not for you. It’s more like a ticking tomb. 

You’re the ticking time bomb. And the faintest scent of disorder is bound to make you explode.

But maybe calling it a bomb isn’t the most accurate way to describe it. The way Eddie sees it, it’s a lot more like an avalanche.

It starts off small, a little rumble of uncertainty that jostles the comfort of your routine. You blink and suddenly the snowball weighs two tons and you’ve spiraled into a full-blown crisis that threatens to swallow you whole.

You don’t let anyone see any of it. Not even Eddie a lot of the time. You just bury yourself in the landslide until the heavy snow melts and you can function normally again — it may last a couple hours, maybe weeks.

So it’s a good thing Eddie can see all the warning signs before they start.

It’s all the little shit he notices first — the not showering as often, the not keeping things as tidy as usual, the closing yourself off. Eddie Munson knows a depression room when he sees one. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to know you’re slipping.

But rather than acknowledge that boogeyman, he pretends like it isn’t there at all. He thinks if he acts like it doesn’t scare him, then it doesn’t have the power to hurt him. That’s exactly how he treats the funks you get into. He knows they’re there but doesn’t let them take over completely.

Eddie comes around whenever he gets the chance and helps you do your self-care routine — even though all you do is complain that you don’t need his help the entire time.

He coaxes you into the bath and tidies up your bedroom while you’re gone. He does all the steps of your skincare for you after because he knows you can’t do it yourself. You’re too tired to, but you feel like shit when you don’t. That’s the same bitter cycle that started this whole mess.

He doesn’t do anything crazy. He just takes care of the little things to make you feel less consumed by it all.

You’re a pouting mess in the middle of your bed after, freshly cleaned and drowning in a too big shirt that smells like the musk of Eddie’s cologne with a towel twisted up in your hair. It’s almost cartoonish, the way you cross your arms over your chest and scrunch your face in displeasure.

“I don’t want you to do all this stuff for me, Eds,” you gripe. “I’m a big girl, okay? I can do it myself.”

The boy shrugs from where he stands at the foot of your bed. “I know I don’t have to. I want to, though. I like doing this stuff for you.”

“You hate cleaning, Eddie.”

“Yeah. I do,” he affirms with a nod, all but flopping onto the mattress beside you. He rests his head on his fist and blinks up at you with wide, twinkling button eyes. A grin pulls at his pink lips as he asks you, “But you know what I don’t hate?”

You huff but entertain him anyway. “…What?”

“You,” he beams and taps the tip of your nose with his pointer finger.

You meet his smile with a grimace.

“Actually, I sort of love you, as it turns out,” he corrects himself in a lilt. “And when you love someone, you do the shit you hate to make them happy, right? Isn’t that what it’s all about?”

You don’t answer him, just shrug.

“Well, either way, I’m happy to do all the boring shit if it means there’s a chance I get to make you feel even a little bit better,” Eddie tells you, pinching his thumb and forefinger together and leaving just an inch or more of space to squint his eye through.

That hand flops down and lands on your thigh. His thumb absentmindedly rubs over the skin there. His smile turns sheepish.

“I will happily fold laundry and do taxes and wash dishes and… all that stupid, boring shit for you for the rest of my life, as long as I can look over and see you next to me…”

Your heart swells with a distant happiness you haven’t felt in weeks.

Eddie helps you until you feel better enough to do it yourself.

Needless to say, when he stops by your place and finds it completely spotless, he doesn’t bother to hide his excitement. He rushes to your room and finds you in bed, flipping through a book. The small radio on your bedside table plays something synth-y.

He realizes you’ve traded in The Smiths for The Psychedelic Furs and that your lavender candle is burning on your desk and that you’ve spritzed yourself in your vanilla perfume.

Those are all staples in your little routine that you borderline can’t live without. You always missed out on them when you got into your funks, but here they are again…

Eddie tries not to smile too wide.

“How’s it hangin’?” he sing-songs when he waltzes into your room.

“Fine...” you murmur, half-distracted by your novel. After a few long seconds, your eyes finally flit up to his. He’s doing a terrible job of hiding a grin. “…Why are you looking at me like that?”

Eddie shrugs as he takes off his leather jacket. He neatly lays the thing over the back of your desk chair and smooths out the wrinkles.

“‘Cause I love the shit out of you,” he answers like it’s nothing, like the words don’t mean everything to you. “And I’m really fucking proud of you.”

“Proud of me?” you echo in a scoff.

Because, to you, crawling out of a three week long funk is hardly something to be proud of. You don’t feel like you should be rewarded for being human, but Eddie knows that getting through the hard shit is a part of being human. And he’s so goddamn proud of you for it.

“Yep,” he nods with pink cheeks and a hopeful grin. “I’ve never been prouder of you, babe. And, like, I’m always proud of you, so that’s saying something.”

“Shut up,” you mutter under your breath. Your attention flits back to your book rather than focusing on the intense gaze Eddie looks at you with. You don’t get through a single sentence before he rips the thing from your hands. “Eddie!—”

You look at him again and find that he’s sterner now, but still so tender — chocolate eyes hardened but soft around the edges. There’s a kind grin on his and an air about him that tells you he’s serious. 

Eddie rounds your bed and plants himself at the edge of it. He keeps your book hostage in one hand and holds onto your calf with the other, running his thumb over the soft skin of your knee.

“I’m serious,” he tells you. “Like, I know shit gets hard for you sometimes, but... I don't know, watching you get through it is… really fucking cool, babe.”

He laughs when it makes you laugh.

“Seriously. It’s like you get stronger every day, and… not to be a total sap or whatever, but I feel really lucky that I get to see it.”

You’re not sure whether to duck away from his gaze or revel in its warmth. You manage somehow to do both with a distant pout on your face. 

Eddie’s grin widens until the dimple in his right cheek reveals itself.  “What?” he laughs. “What’s that look for?”

“‘Cause you’re nice to me,” you mumble like the cutest little storm cloud. “And it’s gross… And also I love you.”

“Well, get ready, babe. You got a whole lifetime of me being nice to you coming your way, so… Be prepared to be sick of me by the time we’re all old and wrinkly, alright? ‘Cause I’m still gonna love the shit outta you then.”

You grumble when he smacks a kiss to your knee.

You hope he keeps his promise.

[jakesguitarsolo]

happy Sexy Sunday!! I know it's a bit late but I just need to get this out. I always get INCREDIBLY horny before my period. (well I mean there're several other signs like mood swings and incredibly thirsty) and let's just say Jake, being the ✨fertility god✨ (and the amazing boyfriend) that he is, can always tell from the little things. for example you are being moody and just snapped at him but immediately felt bad afterwards, and he just understands and "takes care" of you in every way

(not me being frustrated and yes, horny, with this thought plaguing my mind and so grateful that it's sexy sunday so I can vent it out, thank you😂

I got this submission back in December, started writing, and then lost all motivation to write. BUT I AM BACK! Happy Sexy Sunday everyone.

SWEET BOYFRIEND JAKE LETS GO…

Warnings: blood (it’s not what you think…), dirty talk, and fingering (f!receiving).

There you were, angry and insanely frustrated that you were the one standing at the kitchen sink washing dishes after the dinner you just made for yourself and Jake. He had been taking his last bite when he jumped up and grabbed his guitar because a melody popped into his head, and he absolutely couldn’t forget it. This left you stuck with dishes… again. Maybe you were just moody because you were about to start your period in a few days or maybe you were sick of Jake’s sudden “inspiration” leaving you with the house chores way too often lately… Either way, you were over it.

Sitting at the table, Jake is ferociously scribbling note after note on the legal pad in front of him between intermittent strums of his acoustic guitar. He couldn’t see your face from where he was sitting and he dare not glance up from his work, but you rolled your eyes anyway hoping with some small part of you that he would realize that you were upset.

Your attitude clearly got the best of you because you accidentally slammed a glass onto the drying rack, shattering it to pieces. “Fuck!” You shouted, noticing the blood that trickled from the fresh cut to your right hand. Jake rushed over to you, turned on the sink and put your hand under the running water. “Baby, you okay? How did you manage to do that?” He inquired. You blurted out, “Oh gee, I don’t know Jake… Maybe if I had some fucking help once in a while, this wouldn’t have happened!” You closed your eyes and sighed with regret as soon as the words spilled from your mouth.

Jake brought the palm of your hand up to his mouth as he licked up the drop of blood about to fall and gave your palm an open mouthed kiss. Your heart rate started to slow and the anger you had let bottle up and explode started to fade. “I’m sorry, love. I know I’ve been neglecting the house work lately. I’ve just been so stressed about getting this new music done… That’s no excuse though. I’ve been neglecting my girl too… Let me bandage this up for you. Let me find a way to make it all up to you.”

Grabbing your waist, Jake led you to the couch before running to the bathroom to get the first aid kit. When he returned, he applied disinfectant and gauze to the wound and gently wrapped your hand with tape. Once completely done, he kissed the palm of your hand again and continued peppering kisses up your arm to your shoulder…. In between kisses he cooed, “So… sorry… baby. Gonna… take care… of my…. girl… I… promise…”

Ascending his way up your neck, he took his time lightly sucking a love mark in that special spot right beneath your ear. This spot made you weak, and Jake knew that as he memorized every inch of your body like he memorized his guitar. Your head involuntarily fell back to allow him more access to you. He inched his lips up to your jaw then hovered centimeters away from your mouth as he cupped your cheek and ran his thumb over your bottom lip, opening you up to him. Swiping his tongue across your lip, he paused for a moment before devouring you. The way you melted into his kiss… No one ever made you feel like that and ever could.

A wave of heat washed over you and your breath hitched when you felt his hand lightly trace over the waistband of your leggings. He released his lips from yours to gaze at your face while he toyed with your leggings, pulling them down lower. Something between a sigh and a whimper escaped your throat when he finally made contact with your pussy. His skilled fingers teased your entrance, collecting your juices before rubbing slow, soft circles on your clit.

“Gonna make you feel so good, sweetheart. Okay? I promise. Just relax for me…” Jake gently pushed you back onto the couch with his body weight pressed against you, again attaching himself to your lips. His kiss started getting sloppy and desperate when he felt you buck your hips up into his hand silently begging for more. He groaned as he swallowed down all your pretty moans and whimpers that you just couldn’t hold back. Jake took that as permission to sink two fingers into you, curling them upwards and hitting that sweet spot inside you that only he had been able to find.

“Fuck, Jake… right there, ah it feels so good. Don’t stop…” you pleaded. Jake chuckled as he said, “You like that, sweet girl? I can feel you dripping into my palm. Gripping my fingers like the needy girl you are, huh? I knew I was neglecting my pretty girl and her pretty pussy.” When he started massaging your clit with his thumb simultaneously, you knew you were done for.

You squeezed your eyes shut and your pussy clenched as Jake continued to work you expertly. “Come on, doll. Let go… Give it to me. You look beautiful when you unravel just for me.” As always, his words were all it took for your body to succumb. Your orgasm hit you so hard you couldn’t breathe or move. Jake didn’t stop though, he was prolonging the ecstasy that was washing over you. Drowning you in it until you couldn’t take it anymore. Your vision was blurry as you opened your eyes.

Jake slowed and finally stilled his movements, leaned down to plant a gentle kiss on your lips. “Don’t think I’m done with you yet, angel. I’m just getting started… First, you got my fingers. Now, m’gonna make you fall apart on my tongue until finally you’re squirming and begging to come all over my cock. I think that’ll make you feel better, don’t you?” He whispered with a smirk.

Oh yeah, you were in for it tonight… and you literally welcomed him with open arms.

[scribble-brain-aced]

more sans au headcanons because if i do not share them, i mayhaps will explode into a million pieces

• i once broke my school computer (stay with me here) and the inside of it smelled like chemicals. like nail polish remove, but more hospital. that’s what the anti-void smells like, and by extension, error.

• getting the feeling that Killer is a bit obsessive with who he likes. like, he won’t straight-up stalk them because he knows that’s apparently terrifying for the victim, and he doesn’t want that. but he WILL watch them really carefully, hang out with them as much as possible, and probably write a list about them. generally, really toeing the line between ‘okay’ and ‘kinda creepy’.

• Dream and Nightmare have synesthesia. Dream can see emotions, Nightmare can taste and smell them. (Although, he thinks it’s weird, so he doesn’t talk about it at all.)

• dust is from a Handplates AU, Killer was homeless until 18, and Horror is part of Gaster’s split brain if you’ve seen Matpat’s theory.

• nightmare has about a million ways to pass the time because as a kid, he had like no social contact whatsoever, and instead read a lot, screamed into a forest, pondered the meaning of life, and made up several conspiracy theories. because he was bored.

• yknow how the Gang is portrayed in this awesome gothic castle/mansion? well, the Stars are permanently broke. they literally just share a tiny little hobbit-hole house in the omega timeline.

• Nightmare stole a money-printer from the government in a Mafiatale AU. that’s how he’s so rich.

• also Killer somehow got everyone to name it Jasper. like, if Dust ran out of money, Horror will just tell him “go talk to Jasper.” and everyone just accepts it.

• cross and epic have a thing where if either of them say the word corn, they chant the corn thing from Slimesccle. they have no clue where it came from.

• error, nightmare, cross, epic, and chino have started the Fresh Hate Club.

• Nightmare somehow keeps getting mistaken for Satan. He doesn’t know how. (and it definitely does not bring his already-low self esteem down.) But if there’s a satanic cult nearby, he won’t correct them, in case they can be useful.

• You know how gods have a ‘true form’ that’s ineffable to mortals? all of Reapertale, Ink, and Error. Reaper’s gonna teach Ink and Error how to access their true forms. Dream once saw Ink’s true form and fucking sobbed because he could barely handle it. he’s not a mortal, so he’ll live, but he can barely comprehend it.

• (inspired by The Stupid Chair on ao3). the gang has The Stupid Hat. it’s a horrible bright yellow neon construction hard hat that gets duct-taped to someone’s head if they’re dumb enough to make an easy mission complicated. ex, if Dust provokes the Stars into a fight during a supply run, he gets the hat.

• ccino is a licensed therapist, but he is still depressed

• dream and nightmare have a lot of insecurity around the auras they emit. ‘do they genuinely like me, or do they like my aura?’ ‘does my aura make them feel that negative? do they wish i weren’t here?’

• cross and killer impulsively started a band called StashMark. They made the instrumentals for half of a song and that’s it. nothing else. they forgot to actually do stuff.

• Dust gets really nervous around medical, scientific places, and doesn’t trust any doctors or scientists except for Sci. but he still refuses to take anything from him, whether it be a shot, or a lollipop. he’s just not having it.

• killer sleeps on the floor because sleeping in a bed still feels strange to him. he also keeps the windows open because he used to sleep in the cold. gets really anxious about the price of something, money in general, so even if he can afford something, he just steals it.

• horror will get random flashbacks of the Core, or Gaster, and he’s not sure why, but on the rare occasion he meets a Gaster, he always ends up feeling “fake” afterwards. like he’s not supposed to be here, not supposed to do this.

[mazeinthemiroh]

could u do a san’s reaction of reader having bad period pains

ateez reactions to their s/o having bad period pains

genre: fluff, comfort

word count: 1.2k

warnings: mentions of pain/painkillers, slight angst

authors notes: i hope this is okay but i took the liberty of doing a ot8 reactions instead of just sannie (as i usually do reactions with all members) hope that's okay! if you want a separate, longer version like a one-shot or something of this then you are very welcome to request that :D either way, hope you enjoy!

hongjoong

it's quite distressing for hongjoong to see you keel over in absolute agony. he knew you had your period but he underestimated how painful the experience actually was for you. you watch his eyes grow wide as you look up from your messy state, your body bent forwards and hands placed on your lower stomach as you tried to breathe slower. after seeing you like this, his ultra attentive mode switches on in his head. he makes sure you are in comfortable clothes and might put on your favourite program to watch. he would be much more cuddly and touchy, which makes you smile. at the same time, if you tell him you want space he completely understands that too. he wants you to be as comfortable as possible and, with his help, it certainly makes your periods a less of a painful experience.

seonghwa

seonghwa is always prepared in this area. at the start of the relationship he might have been a bit bewildered. he didn't know how to react and what he could do to help you. all he knew was that you needed help, and that he wanted to help. so the very first time you told him what would help lessen your cramps after he interrogated you about it you best believe he's on top form. running to the shop to get sanitary products, chocolates, medication, anything else he thinks you might need. and then he will cuddle you all night, rub your tummy and talk to you in a soft, calm voice. he likes to plan ahead of time in general, so he tries to take a mental note of when you have your periods so he can plan something special or maybe buy you a gift. he just wants you to have the most stress-free, painless experience as possible. he will literally do anything to make you feel better.

yunho

emotional support puppy™. he can't even comprehend what type of pain you are going through, it's frustrating for him. he wants to understand why you're feeling like this. he doesn't understand why the pain can't be taken away as easily as a headache or something. while this is going through his mind, he tries to soothe you with forehead kisses and snuggles on the couch. he is determined to make you smile or giggle or laugh, just something to take any grimace or pout of that face of yours. and he's good at making you laugh, it's one of the many reasons you love him. but you have to explain to him that when you laugh too much the cramps hurt more 😭 and his face just drops he's like :(( he hates feeling hopeless because he wants to help you in this predicament. so you have to reassure him that him just being there is enough comfort for you until the pain subsides.

yeosang

yeosang is concerned and doesn't want to leave your side in case you explode or something?? ok so he doesn't know a lot about periods but, cut him some slack, he does a pretty damn good job when it comes to comforting you. his go-to move is to make you a nice hot chocolate, and he even put mini marshmallows in that he bought especially for occasions like these :( and he will give you it with a little piece of paper with a drawing of hethet-mon blowing you a kiss yes i am crying over my own imagination thank you for asking. overall he's just an incredibly soft boy. he doesn't know whether to give you space or to be by your side and he's too shy to ask. also he doesn't want to make you annoyed or upset. so he appreciates it when you are direct with him and tell him you want a cuddle or something.

san

these times of the month will probably have the biggest toll on san the most. seeing you in so much pain to the point where you are crying?? yeah, that's the worst thing for him. what's ever worse is not being able to do anything about it. he tries every trick in the book: painkillers, hot water, tummy rubs, tea. he does everything right and perfect but there is no use. there is nothing he can do. and he absolutely hates that. because of all of this, he gets emotional. he curls up behind you in bed and spoons you, placing kisses all along your head, to your neck, down to your shoulder. he keeps whispering things like "jagi i love you so much" and "i'm so so sorry its like this" while his voice breaks with emotion, his eyes definitely welling up with tears. he feels like he is failing you even though its out of his control.

mingi

he's confused and shocked and scared that you're gonna die or something. everything he does for you is urgent and fast. you watch him whizz round, trip over his own feet when you ask him if he could get some medicine for you. you find it endearing that he puts so much effort into making sure you're ok. you just have to tell him what you need him to do because if he is left to figure out things for himself, he's gonna be so incredibly lost. when he sees you start crying his heart just shatters into pieces. he's whisking you up straight away jn his arms, rocking you gently backwards and forwards, placing your head on his chest and rubbing his hand up and down your back. will probably pop on a disney movie to distract you as you slowly settle down from crying. gives himself a mental high-five when you fall asleep on him. he just can't believe how much pain you are in <//3

wooyoung

chef wooyoung is cooking you a 3 course meal, he doesn't care. when he goes to work knowing you're on your period, he has you on his mind a lot more than usual. because he knows you get it bad. will plan out what he is going to make you for when he gets home. and you are so greatful that he is a good cook because, lord, you can appreciate his cooking when you have bad cramps. the pain seems to lessen when you empty stomach is filled with deliciousness. after you both have eaten wooyoung would be so clingy and cuddly, not once letting you escape his arms as he starts rambling on about his day or some crazy dramatic thing that happened to him a while back. he wants to distract you in some way. he will also give you lots of smooches on the cheeks and say how much he loves you to the point where its sickening. he wish he could take your pain away.

jongho

he's probably the most unsure out of all of them. he doesn't know a lot about periods. all that he knew was that they hurt and they happened every month. that was it. but after seeing you in this much pain he was kind of horrified. he didn't know what to do with himself. what to do with you?? he tried to calm you down and soothe you but there were no words of comfort that could take away from the pain you were experiencing. he would probably pick you up and settle you down in bed. a quick search on google and he would be on it, getting you something to eat, a hot water bottle for your stomach and a stuffed toy for comfort. he would offer to massage anywhere if needed, and will stay by your side for the rest of the night. mentally he is kind of restless because, oh if only he could do something about these cramps...

[hannahssimblr]

Epilogue (Final Part)

It’s hours later and we’re still talking. The DJ arrives around ten and cracks the speakers up to ear-ringing heights so we exit to the lobby and stand by the window as the snow falls and the lights from the ten foot Christmas tree twinkle on the glass. 

“No, no, stop, I can’t take it anymore,” He shrieks in agony as he grabs my arm, “He said that when he was inside you?”

“Yes! I didn’t know what to say back, like, um, thanks pal?”

“‘You’re so Alpha’” He repeats, deadpan, but his shoulders betray him when they start wobbling again, “‘and I’m just a little-”

“Beta boy, yes. Oh Evie, you intimidate me so much, I’ve always wanted to fuck a girl who scared me.”

“I’m going to die because of this story,” He cries, “I refuse to believe that men like this exist, it’s just too much.”

“There was this other lad too,” I begin, “Not as bad, but he got a nosebleed halfway through and it was dripping all over my face for like fifteen minutes before either of us noticed.”

“No!”

“Yeah, God, I feel bad, I think he was on some blood thinning medication or something but like…” We fall about laughing again, laughing and laughing until I think I’ll start gagging. I remember thinking during that experience that there was only one other person in the world who would find it as hilarious as I did, and as we splutter and cackle now at my retelling I remember how it used to be like this all of the time with us. I think about the time we lost through staying out of touch as he wipes his eyes and stumbles to the side a little bit, from laughing or from drinking a little too much, I’m not sure.

“Women are not like that,” he says, “I’m sorry for you, but they’re not, even the crazy LA ones don’t put me in situations like that.” He steadies himself a little by bracing his arm on the wall, so close that I could count his eyelashes if I wanted to. “I just don’t get it, do you think they get nervous?”

“Nervous around me? I doubt it. Sure what’s there to be nervous of?”

“It’s a lot of pressure, you know, making love to a beautiful woman for the first time. There’s a lot on the line, the chances of humiliation are high, maybe, I don’t know, maybe that guy just blurted the first weird thing that came into his head-” He breaks off because a high pitched laugh has exploded out of him again, “But it’s a flex to say that you’re so hot that you give men nosebleeds.”

“Oh come on, you’re exaggerating.”

“No, for real. Don’t you remember how nervous you made me when we were young? I turned into a total idiot around you.”

“Hardly.”

“It’s true. You were like this stunning princess and I was just some guy.”

I scoff, “Some guy?”

“Yeah, and it’s nice to see that some things never change because you’re still so beautiful and I’m still just a random man off the street.”

“Hmm, c’mon, you’re just schmoozing me,” I say, “Is this the way you all sweet-talk each other in Los Angeles? That’s not going to work. Irish girls are too humble to accept that.”

“Have I made you self-conscious?”

“No, I’m just wondering if you’re actually trying to flirt with me now or if you’re just trying to make me feel better about the fact that I’m thirty and my body is slowly ageing and rotting away.”

“Don’t say that, you look better than ever.”

I narrow my eyes, “I’m so curious about your game.”

“What do you mean?”

“Yeah, how you approach women, how you flirt with them now. What’s your technique? Is it intense flattery?”

He scoffs, “Oh, no, come on, I don’t have a technique, I don’t think about it like that.”

“No?”

“What do you think I am? Some kind of weirdo pick-up artist? No. I… I improvise, it depends on so much, like, where I am, who she is, what I feel like I’m hoping to get from the situation…”

“Okay okay, right. Well what if you were at an event with friends. Say, a wedding…”

He smirks at me.

“…and you see a woman standing on her own by the bar, and you know, she’s pretty mysterious in quite a sexy way, and you’re looking at her and thinking, hmm, yeah, maybe I’d like a piece of that-”

“You think that’s my inner monologue?” He interrupts, “That I think like that?”

“No, shh- shut up for a second, in this scenario you do. And you’re going to go over and talk to her, and you see the perfect opportunity to do it, and the lights from the dancefloor are shining in her hair, and oh, she looks so lonely over there, someone should go and keep her company…’

“I’d say hi, you’re very pretty, can I kiss you please?”

“Really?”

“Yeah t-”

He doesn’t finish because I have grabbed him by the lapels and pressed my lips against his. Maybe it’s for the joke, or because I’m slightly drunk, or maybe it’s to see if it still feels the way that it used to, I don’t know. I don’t really think about it, it’s just happening. 

“Oh look, it worked!” I say as we pull away, and I don’t really have a chance to try and read his face to see what he thinks about it because he takes a step towards me and kisses me again, though differently to how I kissed him, gentler, slower, with my head cradled in his hands, which is inconvenient because he makes my insides start flip flopping around. I draw back laughing, “What are you at?”

“We’re kissing now,” he confirms, then frowns, “I think. Aren’t we kissing? Or is this a hallucination?”

“Jude…”

“Don’t you want us to be kissing?”

“Well it’s not that, it’s-”

“Ah, you think it’s dangerous to be kissing.”

“If you keep saying ‘kissing’ it’s going to lose all meaning.”

“What did we call it when we were teenagers? Shiftin’ right? Will you shift me, Evie?”

“Oh my God,” I hold my hand up to his face, “it is illegal for you to put on an accent and say that. I hate that you can still do that.”

“My Irish voice?” he says in his Irish voice. 

“Please get that away from me!”

“Sorry about that,” he settles back into his American drawl, and I jerk with surprise as I feel the tips of his fingers graze my waist, “Also, I’m sorry that I kissed you, I thought we were, you know, doing that now.”

“It was a joke… And maybe just a little bit so that I could see if it still felt the same as it used to.”

His eyes tour my face, “Did it?”

“Did it for you?”

The corners of his mouth tick up, “I don’t know, it’s been a long time since I’ve kissed you, and honestly I didn’t get a decent sample, mind if I try it again?”

“Aha! I’ve figured out your game,” I declare, “You put on that silly act you’ve always put on, don’t you?”

He hooks his finger into the strap of my dress before it drops off my shoulder, “Hm? What act is that?”

“Your favourite one. ‘Oh, little old me? I’m so innocent, why I’ve never even held hands before, and I certainly haven’t fucked half of Dublin city. I don’t even know what sex is.’”

He gasps with delight and stares right into my face, “You’re still obsessed!” He cries, “and you haven’t stopped wondering about me!”

“About what, exactly?”

“My body count! After all these years it still tortures you. You’re so shallow…”

“Oh please, I couldn’t care less.”

“Evie,” He says mock-scoldingly, really drawing out the syllables, “I can’t believe it. I told you back then that it didn’t matter, that I didn’t have to tell you if I didn’t want to, but you’ve never let it go to this day. Wow. Wow.”

“I don’t even want to know,” I sniff, “It’s meaningless information to me now.”

“Well since you don’t care and it has no power over you anymore, maybe you finally ought to know…” He glances quickly around the empty lobby before his eyes slide back to mine and he whispers, “that you were the seventh.”

“The seventh?”

“Is that a good-surprise or bad-surprise?”

“Well I thought it’d be so many more.”

He shrugs, “No, I mean there was the first girl in the playground, then a girl who worked in the tennis club at the beach, a girl from my maths class at school, Michelle, someone from my university, Astrid, and then you-” He pauses, “Wait, there was another one. You were eighth. Seventh and a half.”

“And a half? Who did you forget? A centaur?”

He shakes his head, “There was an awkward foursome situation in Berlin once. It’s a long story, really stupid. I’ll tell you about it later.”

“Well I’ve never been more curious.”

“I’m a source of a lot of interesting info.”

“Like your current body count?” I tease.

“Oh, now I’m ran-through.”

“Tell me more about your life.”

“We just don’t have the time tonight.”

“What, not now?” I protest, “Not in this perfectly perfect situation when we’re both a little drunk and potentially snowed in for days, when there’s nothing to do but talk to each other?”

“No, see you’ve changed the subject, you’ve got me messed up. I…” He laughs tipsily and sways a little bit closer to me, through accident or otherwise I’m not sure, “…I was thinking about how much I might like to kiss you for a little longer this time, just to see if you still give me that same crazy feeling that I used to get with you, and you distracted me.”

I act like it’s a burden to me and slump back against the wall, “Fine, go ahead.”

“Oh jeez, no need to beg me, you know it’s off putting to be so eager?”

“Please?”

He comes in close and pecks my lips gently and even that makes my knees start to wobble. “No, come on, give me a proper kiss, that’s the only way we’ll know.”

“Still so demanding,” He tilts my chin towards him and angles his mouth over mine while his hands skim up my back and hold my body flush to his.  As he strokes his lips over mine I can’t help but curse inwardly because of course this is happening to me, of course it feels like everything I’ve been searching for in the years between then and now, everything I couldn’t find in other people. These are the kinds of kisses that ruined me for other men for years to follow, and he’s ruining me now. 

He glides his tongue along my lower lip and builds this kiss to the kind of intensity that shouldn’t be displayed in a public lobby, but he doesn’t care so neither do I. He kisses me until I’m soft and formless in his arms, until I forget the years in between then and now, and then he finally slows it, brushing his lips against mine and then gently drawing away and I find myself following his mouth in search of more, “The same?” He murmurs with his forehead against mine, “Or terrible?”

His hand cradles the back of my head as I sigh and bury my face in his shoulder, “What are we going to do, Jude?”

“You’re going to have to try not to be awkward about it because we might be snowed in for several days.” He says, “If you’ve decided I’m crusty and repulsive, you’re going to have to hide it from me to spare my ego. Either that or I’ll camp out in my room out of humiliation and get my sister to bring my meals to me until I can get the earliest flight to LAX.”

I pause, “so you’re sharing with your sister?”

“Yeah we booked late, so a twin room was all they had left. And she snores like hell.”

“Well that’s a pity because I booked months ago, and got a huge room all to myself. A four poster bed and a big gorgeous bath.”

“Are you bringing that up to make me jealous or is that an invitation?”

I scoff, “an invitation to what, exactly?”

“Come up and fuck you in the bath or something, I don’t know. Why would you bring the bath into it?”

“That’d be fairly shameless of me, wouldn’t it, if that’s what I was alluding to.”

“Is that the kind of woman you’ve become? The kind that invites strange men into her bath?”

“God no, I’d never directly ask that, that’d be very slutty.”

He brushes his fingers gently along the side of my neck, which is unfair because he knows how much I like that, and as I feel that touch all the way down to my toes he gives me a sly little smile and draws back to look at me, “I don’t know, you’ve really talked up this bath and you’ve got me curious. Will you show it to me?”

“You’ve always been so cheeky, did you know that? You ask audacious things of people.”

“Me? Never. That’s just not me, you must be thinking of somebody else. Of one of your other ex-boyfriends.” He grins and saunters casually toward the stairs, glancing over his shoulder at me as he goes, “I actually just remembered that I spilled something on my suit.”

“Did you.”

“Mm, I’m a total mess, I might be drunker than I look. I think I better go and take it off.”

“Doesn’t suit you anyway. You were always better in shorts.”

He pauses for a moment and regards me with one raised eyebrow, a question, and I don’t care that I’m predictable to him, that he already knows I will push myself away from the wall and catch up to him, “Actually you have the right idea, my dress is uncomfortable. I want to change out of it, only I’m not sure I can manage the zip on my own.”

“Oh, I can help you with that,” he says, “Or at least I can try, you know, but fair warning I haven’t ever undressed a woman before.”

“I’m sure you’ll figure it out,” I smile, as I wind my fingers through his. 

THE END

Beginning // Prev

[zaceouiswriting]

Easy corruption of the straight, human torch

Character: Johnny Storm x male reader, mentioned Dr. Richard Reed

Universe: Fantastic four/Marvel

Warnings: Smut, a little bit of fluff

Authors note: Here I am again, with another part of a request. Please forgive me @innerpiratefun , but I had to break your request into three pieces. It just didn't feel right to only write your request (Which will be the third/last part of this mini-series), but I had to give it some more context and a little bit of story. Of course, with a lot of smut. But here is the first part. Hopefully, you and everyone else will enjoy it! PS. This is Chris Evans as Johnny Storm.

A while after the Fantastic Four awakened their powers, another experiment with government intervention failed. As the lead scientist, Dr. Reed was devastated because one of the test subjects was a promising young man in his early twenties.

After the machine exploded, everyone assumed you were dead, but you weren’t. In contrast, the experiment was actually more than a success. After Susan's death, they needed someone like her to keep Johnny in check and ensure the team always had someone to protect everyone.

However, the experiment was more successful than anyone thought possible. Despite gaining the ability to become invisible and making force fields, you also got telekinesis and something that nobody liked.

„Dr.Reed, I had no idea your thoughts about me are so… dirty.“ Your voice echoed in the doctor's head. Confused and fearful, his head turned in all directions, but he couldn't see the origin of your voice. His hot tears still rolled down his face.

Even with his arms reaching out and touching everything in the room, he couldn't find you. But your voice was so close that it made him furious. Maybe your loss made him finally go insane. Suddenly, he felt something touching him. Pulling his hands back, he tried to find the source of the touching but couldn’t find it anywhere either.

„Aehmmm… Dr. Reed?“ Your voice sounded desperate. Voice quickly got his attention. „There is a small problem.“ Stating that, he looked around again. Glancing through the now windowless windows to the room the experiment had been going on, he saw that the roof was completely gone, and high up in the air, there were you. „Could you get me down? I have no idea how to control this.“

Laughing. You suddenly could hear laughing? Looking down, just at the corner of your sight, there was Dr. Reed, belly laughing about your predicament.

All the while, you began to float away, far into the sky, panicking, trying to somehow make sense of your strange new abilities.

Even minutes later, there was no try from anyone to get you back down to the floor. The doctor forced to experiment on you and with whom you had a strange relationship did nothing.

Believing that your fate was already sealed, you just let it be, spreading your body out to maybe fall onto someone when your body is frozen, like a meaty star.

You hadn't heard or felt warmth coming close to you. „Hey there, you need help?“ A slightly arrogant voice asked with a chuckle. Looking over, you saw Dr. Reed’s friend. 

Shaking your head, you looked back up to the sky you were getting close to. „Not really, I like the sight, and it's rather...comfortable. Who can say that they died flying to the stars?“

You swore that you could hear his eyeballs roll back. „God, just like my sister, maybe I just should let you die.“ He mumbled done with your attitude.

Showing your hand to him as a symbol for him to just shut up, his warmth suddenly vanished. Confused if that idiot was really going to let you die there, your head jerked in his direction only to see him fall instead of flying. Around him, a force field. 

Even more panicking than before, you stretched your hand out again, thinking that this would solve the problem but no. He was still falling, his flames still gone, and the floor came awfully close to him.

With your head everywhere, but solving this problem, you suddenly felt a relatively strong flow of air underneath you. Just wanting to look around, you could move out of nowhere. Not statically flying up to the stars anymore, barely able to move at all. Seeing that you were falling not, but the torch flying back up, away from me, your body just gave up. As blackness surrounded you, all you could do at that point was accept your coming death.

Just sad to know that the government would take another person and subject them to the same destructive process you had to go through. But that wasn’t your problem anymore.

„God, Johnny, look out for your fucking flank! What are you doing?“

„Trusting in you, handsome!“ He called back, smug as he was.

Rolling your eyes, you telepathically told him that you will, punish him later for his stupidity. All I got back was a fantasy of him being tied to a cross and flogged, only to have a cold touch on his red, warm, and bruised skin that hurt even more than the whipping. But it felt so good for him.

Blushing at his obscenely dirty thoughts, amid a mighty struggle, you realized you were too soft on him. On the fly, you decided to teach him a lesson. As a plasma blast hit his side as he became careless again, he was thrown straight in your direction. His powers were down because of the immense pain.

Catching him with ease, you cradled him softly in your arms. „What the fuck, man!“ He brought out through gritted teeth. Anger and hurt are audible in his hissing voice. „See it as foreplay, Johnny. Because if I get my hands on you later, I will break the rest of your little, dirty soul. Fucking little pig.“ You whispered the last part in his ear. As always, your hot breath sent cold sweats down his back as he remembered the first time you completely ravaged his hole.

You and Richard split just months after the older doctor accepted your advances. Finally, realizing that you two could not get intimate as he needed it, considering neither of you would put your ass on the line.

Johnny has been flirting with you since you became part of the team, touching you, even giving you little kisses on the neck, or licking your ear. It didn't change when you and Richard became a couple. In contrast, things got worse. Openly grabbing your ass or crotch, but mostly your ass.

That day though, he even put his hand in your pants because he had hurt about you and Richard breaking up, thinking he could get you finally inside his bed. Because you never pushed him away, he thought you would like it. How could you? Johnny was one of the two most attractive men you have ever seen. But when his pointy finger touched your hole, you punched him square in his face.

Tumbling steps back, he suddenly couldn’t feel the floor underneath his feet anymore. He also wasn’t able to move any part of his body. „You are seriously a fucking pig. It is finally time to show you that I won’t take this shit anymore!“

Walking outside the kitchen we were in, with him floating in front of me, your presence was to be felt all over his body. Making him hard in a second made him moan like a little slut, but it didn't get interesting until much of your power concentrated on his butt to prime him. Suddenly his slightly deeper voice became high-pitched.

„What are you- Nghhh…A-Ahhh- are you doing?“

„You will see soon enough, easy slut.“ He tried harder to free himself from my invisible grip on him. But nothing worked, he was already too far gone to use his own powers, which might have given him a chance against you, but now he was just that, what he, in reality, was, butter in your hands.

Put him in his room, locked the door, and even put up a force barrier so no one could open it. You threw him onto his bed and held him in place with your powers, only to get whatever you could find to tie him to his bed.

Bound to the posts of his bed, he almost immediately tried to burn it away again. Just for nothing to happen. A devilish grin spread across your face as he realized with shock that he was at your mercy. His face had fallen into disbelief, making you even harder under your tight pants. „Hey dude, I’m sorry, okay? You are just so hot, and I thought playing with you would be nice.“

„Oh, it was nice, but now it is my time to play with you.“ You lasciviously lick your lips seductively with your tongue, your hands slowly wandering over Johnny's clothed body. „God, your body is a dream.“ Punching his rock-hard abs and chest, he let out a couple of suppressed moans, obviously meant for you, but was not willing to reveal them just yet to you.

It only got worse as your fingers completely ignored his raging boner, just gently stroking it. Only to quickly travel down to his throbbing hole that begged to be touched, slightly open, smiling at you. So you obliged. Circle his soft pink hole with your left hand, gently inserting your pinky, only to be surprised that it sinks already in easily. Your sickly grin widened even more when you remembered that you had already opened it slightly on your way to his play bed.

Looking up at Jonny, pure panic could be read on his face, scrunched together in ecstasy. „Apparently, I have to show your place, you little whore, do I?“

„Please!“ His plead was spoken without a breath, so quietly that you could’ve easily missed it if you weren’t so focused on his lips.

Your sadistic smile faltered into one full of sympathy. Leaning over him, your face was barely over this. The fact that you were a bit taller than this demigod of man certainly made it easier.

What little air he could manage to take in was gone when you caught his lips with yours. Both of you stared at the other as it happened. You, because at that moment Johnny was just a toy to get your frustration out, and he because he was surprised. But he closed his eyes rather quickly, realizing what was happening.

This man you saw regularly fucking women, a real womanizer, was beneath you, trembling under your gentle touch and begging you never to stop. And yet, you could only see his flesh, the lust he could provide you.

You still hovered over him after that first chaste kiss, after you separated from him. Lips dangerously close to his, but never touching. All the while, your fingers danced around his hole.

But as your thumb finally found its way into him, a gasp sounded from his lips. His hands grabbed the cloth you'd used to tie him to the bed. His body went rigid. Eyes bulging, disbelief in them, tears pooling in their corners.

„God, you are so tight around my thumb. Are you a virgin, Jonnyboy?“ Not a single word left his mouth. It just stood open in shock. But the little sounds he made were everything you needed to know. He could see you smirking, he dissolving at your touch. Trying to stay strong, he closed his mouth, sternly glancing back into your eyes.

Your smoky quickly became that of a predator, now with a goal in its head. Carefully you pulled your thumb out of him. Feeling him try to move back on it made you grin even wider. He only had a small taste and already couldn’t get enough. A straight womanizer like him had to think about taking it up the ass a lot. Otherwise, he would never have given up that quickly.

Or maybe, he is just finding out about this side of himself and can’t make sense of it, losing himself as it was happening.

For a long moment, you did not touch him at all, only hovering a bit closer over his body. Your eyes warningly glared at him, not wanting him to move. Even without saying a word or using your powers, he knew what you wanted, and he did it out of fear of what would happen if he didn't.

Soon enough, happy with his submission, your hand, which was not holding you over him, wandered up and down his body, massaging his chest again, pinching his nipple, which got a welcoming yelp out of him, which you noted you needed to hear much more often.

Everything changed, however, when the same hand ran down his leg, gently stroking the inner part, approaching his balls only to ignore them and soon after reaching his hole. He got restless, tried to move, and even had the audacity to kiss you.

Angry that he broke his goody boy attitude this quickly, your hand was around his neck in a heartbeat. „What was that?“ You asked in a low tone. Even quieter than your voice usually was. One of the main things men typically fall onto their knees for you is your deep voice. Despite your muscular body, this is much more important. Your piercing eyes, judging, made the rest. But as soon as those same people, willing to serve you, open your pants, they try to get out of it.

Johnny was no different. With ease, you ripped away one of the pieces of cloth binding him to the bed, took his hand, and bought it down to your pants. Opening it, you pushed his hand underneath your underwear. His eyes nearly bulged out of his head.

„As a punishment, you fucking impatient, little whore, I will only use spit on you. We will see how long your cocky attitude holds with that.“

Terror the only thing visible on his face. But Johnny couldn't do anything. His brain, which was only working half the time anyway, had shorted out. Before he could wrap his head around things, his other arm was free too, but his face was pressed into his pillow, with his back to you.

With one hand on the back of his head, you held his head even though you theoretically didn't need your hand, but it felt more natural that way. You liked to feel his worry as he tried to free it.

Your own head was already on his ass, with his pants completely ripped off his body with your powers. Now everything was open to you, especially his perfect peach ass. You just had to, so you bit into it. Another yelp could be heard, muffled through the pillow. Even more exotic and foremost erotic than the last, quickly forcing you to bite into it again and again. Only when dozens of bite marks could be seen on his ass, now reddish from your treatment, did you stop. Licking his ass from side to side, your middle finger found its way right into his hole without much need of searching rather than accidentally hitting the point. With a loud moan, embarrassed in nature, he came.

Since you never touched his cock, and neither could he, he just came from your finger when you hit his prostate. It made you grin even wider. „Let's see how many times I can make you little slut cum before I completely destroy your little hole. How does that sound?“

Nothing more than a tormented groan could be heard. It was quickly followed by a long moan as your tongue touched the pink hole for the first time. Every resolve he had vanished into thin air. In particular, when you used your fingers to open it wide enough to really dig deep in with your tongue.

Under normal circumstances, you never would’ve done this with a straight guy for a big reason. Johnny does not have these problems though he literally burns everything away. Therefore he is always clean.

You found yourself enjoying it much more than you had initially thought. I've always liked licking a nice hole, but this was different. It tasted delicious. You had to take a deep breath away from his hole for a second, but you needed more with both hands now on his peachy ass. But you needed more of that, so you went all the way in with your tongue and fingers to open his ass up for you. Face deep between his lovely cheeks, massaging them and even slapping them every now and then if you're not wiggling them when you need to take a breather.

Johnny was on cloud nine the entire time. He came three more times, his cock never getting touched.

Pulling him a little up, you finally took your cock out of your tight underwear. It was heavy, big, and long in your hand. You've always been big down there, but it's only gotten bigger since the experiment, especially in girth and length.

The moment I slapped it on his peachy ass, Johnny suddenly began to tremble but dared a glance back. Fear was written over his handsome face. Even though he was a few years older than you, he looked so mature with his brown stubble, but deep down; he was more immature than anyone you've ever met.

To See him really scared for the first time since you knew him made your cock throb on his ass curve. „Okay, okay, that is-that is enough now, we can tal-“ He came up slightly to say this. But it was already too late for him. 

Aggressively you pushed his head back into the pillows, holding it there. Slowly you bend over his body, your own muscular body, which is already taut thanks to the training you're receiving. Feeling his muscular back on your abs was heaven for you, but to feel the sweat that had accumulated all over his body, making it easy to rub yourself on it, almost made you fuck his ass cheeks and not his hole. Maybe another time in which you aren’t this pent up.

Lie on his back and position your head next to his. Your mouth gently nibbles his ear as your tongue explores new zones of pleasure. Especially his earlobe was extremely sensitive, making him moan and groan in response, as well as moving a lot. Feeling his ass cheeks pulling your cock inside almost drove you mad with lust. „I knew you wanted that, you little bitch. I will breed you so well. Maybe I will even impregnate you.“ Chuckling over your own joke, you put a hand over his stomach. „Pumping you full with my fucking cum.“

As you were still talking, you could feel his hole opening as his body relaxed. Realizing that he was already entirely gone by this point: you slowly slide your cock deeper inside him. Your massive cock head slid in easily. But you stopped anyway to make sure Johnny wasn't in pain.

But the good little boy made no sound except moans of joy, a lost, happy smile on his blank face. His eyes had not a glimmer of intelligence anymore.

A proud expression crosses your face as you realize you're good enough to empty this handsome man's pretty little head.

You seized the moment of his stupidity, and to put all of your massive cock inside him, enough spit had entered his hole by eating it out to sink in with ease. There was nothing more but an exaggerated moan. But the heat and tightness of his wonderful hole took you by surprise. You came almost on the spot after just getting into his hole. For a second, you felt like a pathetic rookie. But thanks to this, your orgasm did not happen. Your mind was too preoccupied. After taking a few deep breaths, you sat in his hole with your big cock for some time. Contemplating when to move.

Your hands wandered, no, slide your hands heavily down his back. Your rough hands could feel every muscle, bone, and heartbeat, deeply massaging his back. Johnny was nothing but a fleshlight for you.

The moment your cock head had pushed past his prostate, another orgasm went over Johnny’s body, letting his ass squeeze your big cock so nicely. „God, you are sucking me in…Aghhh, fucking whore.“ For the first time, you slapped him. Finalizing the light in which you saw him. The moan that had ripped from his lips, as your skin hurt his, was more than music in your ears.

Agonizingly, you didn't move even though you and your body wanted nothing more than to ravage this cocky little cock whore.

But you managed to keep yourself from hurting him with sudden, brutal movements. Instead, you breathing heavily, put your hand around the front of his neck, gripping it hard enough to stop his airflow.

Finally, a reaction came from him, but only weakly. His hands tried halfheartedly to pry mine from his neck, but his intention was more than clear. He liked it, no, the fucking whore loved it even.

You pulled him up until his head was lightly on your shoulder. His back arched almost unnaturally. Taking your hand from his neck, he took hasty breaths before passing out. But your entire arm replaced your hand. „Hmm, do you like my muscles, whore?“ You asked him, whispering in his red ear, the same that you had nibbled on a while ago. „Does it feel good to submit to a real man? I bet it does!“

After much whining from him, you finally moved, just for Johnny to cum again. At this point, nothing came out; he was empty, not only his head but also his balls, thanks to you emptying him fully. Even his tensing up muscles and therefore moving intestines had much of an effect on you anymore. Everything was just so low at this point. His body is obviously at the end of its energy. 

„We are not finished here, my little whore. I still have to completely fill you up with my cum, remember?“ I asked him as I softly spoke to him, never stopping my already brutal pace inside him.

„Bu-But-But I can-can’t any… more- Ahhhhh!“ He suddenly screamed after I put my hand on his stomach, piston fucking into him like some ice-cold machine. Feeling your cock thrusting against your hand through his stomach was too much for you at that moment as you came like a fountain deep inside Johnny.

Let him fall into the warm, cozy bed. Even though you just came, the lust was still immense. But you wanted him to feel safe and secure, going so far as to stroke his aching back, caress his cheek, and even give him a few meaningless kisses all over his back.

Only when you could feel him relaxing too much, to brutally start to fuck him again. „You really thought I would let you go that easy, huh? How cute. Now I will show you how bold slut’s like you should get treated!“

It took you hours to fully empty your heavy balls, which hadn’t seen sex in months to deplete. Every single drop in Johnny, or most of it. At that time, a lot already covered his bed after you'd fucked him hard enough to squeeze most of it out again.

After cumming about six times, you fell onto Jonny’s back. Heavily breathing and sweating profusely. Somehow he was still awake, even though barely. „Can I sleep now, sir?“ He asked out of his mind.

Shocked about him calling you something so formal, it quickly dawned on you. He, in fact, was a submissive shithead and finally wanted to be put in his place, something no man had ever done or been able to do before.

Without him having to say anything or you having to ask a single question, you knew he would be yours for as long as you desire, a sex toy. You gently pulled your slowly limp-going cock out of him and rolled to the side. Immediately open up your sweaty arms. Johnny, first reluctantly, found his way into them. But as soon as he felt your warmth and could breathe in your musky scent, he was a goner, dumbly smiling into your chest as he almost fell asleep. 

Once again, he looked up at you, out of tired eyes, still awaiting your answer, further cementing his wish for you to be whatever he needed. „Go to sleep, baby boy. I can’t have you exhausted when I want to use your sweet hole tomorrow again, now can I?“ He blushed ferociously at his new nickname. Maybe you'll use a different one in the future, but for now, Johnny would get this one, showing what he was to you, a good boy.

All the while, none of you had noticed the elongated eyes watching your every move with excitement, taking advantage of your pornographic use of Johnny's body to satisfy his own desires.

[Masterlist]

[yunholuvrr]

we all need love chapter 3.

chapter summary: you learn more about your new friends on your definitely-not-a-date

pairing: yunho x reader

genre: workplace au, ateez ensemble, fluff, romance, angst, eventual smut, polyamory

warnings: just some short descriptions of anxiety & negative self talk again, let me know if i should add anything!

word count: 3k

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“Are you big on dating, y/n?” You nearly spit out your coffee. You look over and Wooyoung is staring at you innocently, “sorry if that’s weird to ask but I'm just tired of staring at this screen.” You don’t believe for a second that he doesn’t have an ulterior motive, but you decide to bite the bullet. You could muster a safe response, you've had to do it for every other person who's asked. And he was right, it was already 3:30pm. You needed a break.

“It wasn’t a weird question,” you clear your throat, “and no, not recently I guess.” You shift in your seat, crossing one leg over the other.

He hums in acknowledgement, “I just wanted to ask because you know, if eight attractive men took interest in me I’d be a mess.” You lock eyes for a second before hysterically laughing, and he follows suit. You can’t tell if he knows your internal dilemma about Yunho, but you try to formulate an innocuous enough response.

“Oh my god no,” you wipe tears from your eyes, “no, no, no, you guys are nice but I can tell we’re all just friends.” It’s not a lie, but it’s not the truth you want. “Besides, I promised myself I wouldn’t date anyone while I was here,” you regain your composure. That part is honest.

He furrows his brows, “Why? Bad experiences?”

You try not to wince, “no, it’s just such a short time period that it’d get too complicated too quickly.” He nods, and for a moment you think you’re off the hook. You wake your computer back up and try to ignore the way you suddenly can’t stop thinking about Yunho again. Maybe it wouldn’t be complicated with him. 

“Well,” he stands up and stretches, “I’ll make it my goal to loosen you up, then.” You shoot him a shocked look, and he crosses his arms. “What? You can’t go three whole months without any action, y/n. I know you’re not here for a long time, but you don’t have to date people for a long time either,” he smirks and gets up to refill his water bottle before you can refute.

If you were being honest with yourself, that’s something you’ve wanted for a while. You have always wished that you could just let hookups come and go. You’ve always wished you didn’t develop feelings for people so quickly that you feel like you’ll die without their attention. It wasn’t healthy, and maybe Wooyoung was right, maybe he could get you to come out of your shell. Maybe a summer fling wouldn’t be such a bad idea.

Yunho walks up to your desk a few seconds later, a grin plastered across his face. “You ready?”

You all but jump out of your seat, mentally cursing yourself for failing to notice him walk in, “yeah! Yeah I just need to save a few things and then I can go.” You can’t even recover yourself smoothly and you thank the universe that Wooyoung wasn’t within earshot to bully you. You blush so hard you think you’ll explode into a million pieces if you make eye contact with Yunho, so you keep your eyes glued to the screen.

“Mm, I’ll go talk to Seonghwa for a bit then. Grab me when you’re done,” you feel his hand on your shoulder, giving you a brief but comforting squeeze, before he walks across the office to the supervisor’s desk. You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding and finally looked up in his direction. He’s wearing a simple white shirt and wide black pants, and a blazer that was probably making him overheat is folded neatly in his arms. Seonghwa must say something funny because he throws his head back in laughter before glancing back at you. 

“Ready for your date with Yunho?” Wooyoung elbows you and you jump again. You can’t seem to realize when anyone is walking up to you anymore. 

“Ready for my what?” You blurt out before reading his expression, clearly joking just to joke. 

“I was just kidding!” he throws his hands up, “but if you ask him about his favorite ice cream joint on the way there he might love you forever.”

You slap him on the arm and pack your bag for the day. The words love you forever ring in your head and you can’t believe how pathetic you are. Yunho feels like such an easy person to love forever, to spend the rest of your life with. Wooyoung was suspiciously good at pressing your buttons in just the right way, and you can’t help but think about why he was asking you about your dating life. Maybe it’s all just a big game to him.

Yunho ushers you past the front doors into the sunny weather outside. The elevator ride down was quiet, but it’s not very awkward being quiet with him. He was a jokester with his friends around, but right now he’s just a calm and steady presence, quietly observing you. In the office, just the mere thought of him filled you with nerves and it took some manual breathing to recenter yourself. But walking side by side, nothing but the sounds of the city enveloping you both, you feel safe.  

“So how far away is this park?” You break the silence after a few blocks of walking. You just wanted to hear his voice.

“Oh yeah, sorry,” he chuckles, “I didn’t mean to keep you in the dark! It’s only two more blocks away, and then we’ll just walk around until we find a nice place to sit down. But I have a little surprise to show you first.” 

You clasp your hands together, “Really? What is it?”

“If I told you it wouldn’t be a surprise anymore,” he smiles down at you, “but I hope you like sweet things.”

You know he knows you like sweet things. He watched you order a waffle and smoothie for lunch yesterday, and you keep a small bag of candy on your desk that he might’ve seen as well. You know he likes sweet things too, if Wooyoung’s ice cream comment is anything to go off of. The butterflies in your stomach go crazy at the thought of him bringing you to his favorite ice scream spot. You can’t help but feel special. Maybe he likes you too?

“It’s just a little spot we went to in college a lot, it reminds me of good times with the boys,” he flashes a small smile your direction and you come back to your senses. This outing was meant to help you learn about the city and their friendship, it’s not a date. It’s not a date.

“You know I was a little scared I wouldn’t get to enjoy my summer if I was working the whole time,” you tried to lighten up.

“Really? Dasoft won’t work you to death,” he chuckles, “we wouldn’t work here if it was that kind of company.” You turn a corner and a bright blue and white striped cart catches your eye. A handwritten sign next to it reads Super Sunwoo Ice Cream.

“Yeah I can see that now. Why do you guys work here anyway?” You could pat yourself on the back for being so calm and collected right now. 

“That’s a long story. What kind of ice cream do you like?”

“Strawberry,” you reach for your wallet but he grabs your hand instead, pulling you closer to the cart.

“Hi sir!” Yunho chirps. The older man behind the cart stands up from his stool and a smile of recognition slowly grows across his face.

“Yunho! It’s been so long, same as usual?” He grabs a waffle cone and opens the cooler, calm and practiced motions like he’s done this every summer for decades. Maybe he has.

“Two of them, please!”

“Oh?” The man finally notices you standing there, and you feel out of place for a moment before his eyes turn into crescents again, “you must be new around here! Any friend of Yunho’s is a friend of mine.” You smile and watch him carefully scoop one and then two cones full of what looked like homemade strawberry ice cream. You hadn’t gotten ice cream like this since you were a kid and the wave of nostalgia is almost painful.

“How much will this be, sir?” Yunho grabs the two cones and hands one to you before turning back to the older man.

“Oh don’t worry about it this time!” he chuckles, “You can make it up to me the next time the boys come around. Go have some fun.”

Yunho squints and tries to refuse the free offer, but you just thank him profusely and make your way into the park. “You always accept free food Yunho. Always,” you elbow him, lighthearted.

“I know I know,” he chuckles, “but Mr. Sunwoo has been working for so long. I wish I could buy enough ice cream to just let him retire.”

“If it makes you feel better,” you take a mouthful of ice cream from your cone, “this is so good I might just visit him everyday.” 

“Really? We usually go as a group at least once a week during the summer. I’ll count you in,” he gives you the biggest, most genuine smile you’ve seen so far and you feel like you could melt faster than the dessert in your hand.

You follow him down a quiet path through the park, landing at a bench along the way. It was a standard metal city bench, but it overlooked a tiny pond across the path and was surrounded by trees. The sounds of cars and bustling people faded long ago, all that was left was the birds above you and your quiet footsteps. You both fell into comfortable silence again, with Yunho lightly tapping his fingers in his lap. He finished his strawberry cone a while ago.

“Can I hear the long story?” you look up at him, taking the final bite of your cone. 

“Sorry?”

“Of why you all work at the same company? I know how you all met but, like, what about after that?”

“Ah, right, I'm supposed to be telling you about us,” he laughs and combs a hand through his hair, “it’s just so nice being able to get some peace and quiet with you.”

You smile and fiddle with your own hair, mirroring his movements. 

“Like you probably gathered, Seonghwa and Hongjoong got hired here first,” he started, “Joong got an internship the year prior, similar to yours, before being offered a full time position. And then he recommended the company to Hwa.”

“Did he purposely want to stick with you guys?”

He shrugs, “I don’t think I’ll ever know how thought out Joong’s plans are, but he always manages to keep us on the right track. Even back in the dorms, while Hwa would let us get away with things, Hongjoong was strict enough to get us to behave without getting us kicked out.”

Your mind quickly races with what they could’ve been doing that would’ve gotten them expelled, and you ask him as much. He just chuckles, “nothing insane! Sometimes we’d just have a bit too much to drink and we’re not exactly the quietest group of people.”

“If we went to college together I’m not sure I’d like all of you,” you joke, but he sits up straight at the comment.

“Would you like me?”

You look up at him and for the first time this afternoon, he looks a little nervous. You spot the red tips of his ears. “I don’t think I know enough about you yet. You’ll have to show me,” you lie. You don’t know why you decided now was the time to test your flirting skills.

“I see,” he grins before leaning back against the bench, “well just wait until you hear about how the rest of us got here.”

“I’m all ears,” you lean forward, elbows resting on your knees.

“I did my final project for a class on how to market this brand of ramen I really like, and I guess it was so good someone forwarded my name to a Dasoft recruiter. They contacted me about an internship in the sales department and I’ve been moving up since. The same thing happened with Mingi and Jongho minus the final project part. They’re both just really fucking smart and got jobs the moment the recruiters talked to them.”

“Really? Is it what you all wanted out of college?”

“Not all of us, but you can’t argue with a good salary,” he sighs, “I’m sure some of us will move on eventually.”

You sit up and look up at him and you see the faintest hint of worry in his eyes. You wonder if maybe he’s just as scared of losing his friends as you are, if maybe you could hug him right now to comfort the both of you. Mostly you. 

He breaks your wild assumptions with a playful smile, “have you noticed Wooyoung playing games next to you? He definitely only took up Seonghwa’s offer because it was easy money for now, but he has bigger dreams. He’s not cut out for a lifetime of cubicles and meetings.”

“That’s easy to believe,” you lean back, relieved. “You know his first words to me, or well, about me, were-”

“I have several unread emails and I need lunch now?” he mocked Wooyoung’s higher voice, “yeah he was telling us over lunch before you and Hwa arrived. He almost felt kinda bad about it.” 

You both laugh at the thought. Wooyoung can only be described as lovingly annoying, and you can’t even imagine him being self conscious about something he said. “Yeah well, it’s nice to know he cares about my feelings, because he certainly knows how to tease me.”

“He’s like that with everyone really. I don’t think we’d all be as close if it weren’t for him, he’s just so outgoing and affectionate it’s contagious. You should totally take him up on the clubbing offer sometime.”

You nod, “What about Yeo and San? They seem pretty good at their jobs.”

“They both try their absolute best at everything, I’m sure they’d be good anywhere,” he acknowledges, “I don’t really know what they want to do in the future, but whatever it is, they’ll get it.”

“You all will,” you assure him. 

“I wanna know more about you, y/n,” he turns to you, “and hear your voice instead of mine.” He flashes that infectious crooked grin and gives you the floor. 

“Honestly I don’t know,” you start. Just getting into college and staying there has been rough for you, and while you’re sure Yunho would listen, it doesn’t feel like the time to rant about all your shortcomings. “Hopefully this internship will help me figure out what I like and what I don’t.” He hums understandably. “So far I know I like friendly coworkers,” you add, bumping shoulders with him.

“Let’s go,” he shakes a fist excitedly, “we’ve set the standard for the rest of your life. No one will ever be as good as us, you know.” You know he’s joking, but with the way you’re feeling you’re not so sure it's a lie.

“Yeah, it’s been great so far, genuinely. I thought this internship would be too good to be true, and it still feels that way, but I’m excited.” 

He nods and stares at you fondly, silently urging you to continue. “It’s not much harder than school, either. I actually feel kind of competent for once,” you laugh.

“You are competent,” he replies, “I mean from what I’ve heard you’re probably more talented than most of us are.” You quirk an eyebrow, but he continues, “I’m serious. There’s just something really charming about you. I see why you got the position.”

“If you keep complimenting me you might become my new favorite,” it comes out of your mouth before you can even think about it. Smooth.

He laughs again, one that has his whole body shaking and leaning into your space a bit, “over Wooyoung? I’ll take that spot any day.”

“You have 12 weeks to keep it!”

“12 weeks huh,” he contains himself, trailing off at the thought. You both grow silent, and suddenly it hits you. All this beautiful nature, all the busy city streets, the company building, your coworkers, Yunho, they’d all be gone in 12 weeks. If you were alone this could be anxiety attack worthy, but he’s right next to you. He can see the way you start fidgeting with your fingers and breathing slightly faster. He’s been watching you intently the whole time.

“Do you like parties?” he tries.

“What kind?” you keep your eyes trained on the ground below your feet. 

“The 9 of us at San’s place. Drinks. Music. Food. That kind of party.”

You nod, and he lays a hand on top of yours for the millionth time that week. And just like every other time, it instantly comforts you. This is pathetic.

“This Saturday,” he squeezes, “I’ll text you the address. Or I can pick you up from your place if it’s far.”

“That sounds nice,” you turn your hand and squeeze back. Now you’re actually holding hands, and his thumb slowly rubs back and forth over yours.

“Perfect,” he pulls out his phone with his other hand, “I’ll let the guys know.”

You stay like that for a while, holding hands and taking in the nature of the park. You feel like you’re in some twisted dream, sitting next to a perfect man who isn’t your boyfriend, making plans with people who won’t be your friends in a few months, getting accustomed to a city you’ll never visit again.

You try so hard to push the thoughts to the side, and with each minute and pass of Yunho’s thumb, they slowly do.

Maybe this is okay.

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[awlumii]

put your hand in mine...

# — pairing: kazuha x gn!reader

# — characters: gender neutral reader, kazuha

# — summary: callouses and all.

# — warnings: n/a

# — tags: fluff. that's it, that's literally it. ( + holding hands, a pinch of angst if you squint, & a lil kiss okay, i couldn't help it.)

# — notes: i couldn't get him out of my head. it's like i've been bitten by a kazuha lovebug. (again.) i had to write this or else my brain would've exploded. anyway, reblogs and reactions are greatly appreciated, and i hope you enjoy the first piece on this new blog!

wanna join the tag list?

✧ — 🍁 — ✧

kazuha watches with rapt attention as you slide your fingers up his palm and place them over his own. "hello there," he says quietly, wiggling his fingers beneath yours. "are you alright?"

"just fine." you breathe your reply. you lock your fingers with his and take his hand. in moments like these, there is little need for words. kazuha says nothing in response, seemingly satisfied with your answer. if something was wrong, he'd know.

you squeeze his hand once experimentally. he squeezes back. you squeeze him twice. he squeezes you twice and huffs a silent laugh through his nose.

you take his hand in both of yours and begin gently pressing your thumbs against his palm, giving him a light massage. you can practically feel the curious look kazuha is giving you. "you have nice hands," you explain. an answer to an unasked question. "i have to treat them as such."

kazuha's stare grows more and more curious as the seconds tick by. you won't look at him — you're pretty keen on this, it would seem. your fingers press here and there, putting pressure on the areas where you think he might need the most care. without thinking, kazuha follows your every movement closely, enraptured by the littlest gestures; every swish of your lashes, the steady rise and fall of your shoulders as you breathe. he's so mesmerized that he misses your words entirely; he's more focused on the shape of your lips than the words coming out of them. he apologizes, albeit still a bit distractedly. "say that one more time for me, my love." he prompts you.

you reach over and take his other hand between yours. "i said i gotta do both," you murmur. and like that, you're massaging his other hand. "your hands are kinda rough."

instinctively, kazuha curls his fingers to close his hand. there are times when he worries you may shy away from his touch because of this. rather than see himself as dirty, he sees himself as worn — too tried and ragged for someone as effervescent as you.

you don't allow him, instead pressing down to keep his hand open. "it's not a bad thing." you say. "i'm just curious as to why."

ah. he hasn't told you much about that, has he? where does he begin? can he even tell you that much? will you really want to hear that?

"you don't have to tell me if you don't want to."

your words grant him some reprieve, and he releases a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. perhaps one day he will be prepared to weave for you the tale of his origin. your fingers still work away at his palm, sliding about and pressing down, leaving what he thinks is a trail of sunlight in their wake.

kazuha thinks of something to say. something that makes him not look like the smitten fool that he is. "can you guess," he asks slowly, "what made my hands this way?"

you finally look at him then, a questioning quirk to your brows and lips. "you want me to guess?"

he shrugs. "i'd like to see where your imagination takes you."

"alright then..." you pause in your ministrations. "i think... you got in a bunch of fights."

surprisingly, you're not wrong. then again, you aren't right, either. "oh? is that what you think?" kazuha puts up a veil of mystery, dangling the truth just out of your reach. in due time.

"yep! you were a problem child, weren't you?"

kazuha's grin is lopsided. "absolutely," he agrees, sarcasm lacing his tone. "i was a little terror."

you laugh. "of course i'm right. you still have yet to grow out of it, after all." before kazuha can tease alongside you, your laughter dies down, leaving a lingering smile on your face. it grows solemn; you know he's hiding something from you. thankfully, you don't push. it's a conversation for another day.

you take both of his hands and bring them up to cup your cheeks. kazuha stiffens momentarily, but melts at the feeling of your skin warming against his hands. he brushes a thumb across your cheek and you turn your head slightly to kiss his palm. once again, kazuha finds himself at your mercy, his mind completely blank as he looks at you. it's a welcome change, being lost for words like this. a clear head allows him to admire you in full, after all.

"problem child or not," you murmur into his palm, "i love you and your hands. callouses and all."

it's times like these where kazuha understands why you hide your face when you're flustered. you have his hands in your grip, leaving him unable to hide the warmth that quickly takes over his face. kazuha's only remaining option is to look away from you, his heart hammering in his chest. the way you look right now, with your lips against his palm, your hands over his, your eyes conveying nothing but the truth behind your words... it's a bit much. "i..."

to his surprise, you close the distance between the two of you and peck his lips gently. kazuha startles and you giggle. "you don't need to say it back." you whisper. "i know."

you couldn't possibly, kazuha thinks as he blinks at you. you couldn't fathom just how much he loves you. he finds himself paralyzed by it — overwhelmed by it. the best he can do is kiss you again, longer this time. you sigh into it, content. when you pull away, he brushes his thumb over your cheek once more. and you smile, a million words conveyed through a simple gesture. someday, he'll be able to show you. until that day comes, he'll keep you here, within reach.

✦ some break this is, am i right? but i feel a little reassured about this, courtesy of @kazu-sun my beloved <3 writing at my own pace feels nice. with my drafts clear once more, i'm gonna let my empty head wander! i hope you enjoyed it 🤸🏾

[astelren]

Dr. Stone to you wearing their clothes

ೃ⁀➷ TW/CW: Fluff, Gender Neutral Reader, Nothing much, let me know if I need to add more TW/Tags ♡ Minors please interact with me only by liking or reblogs. ➳ Characters: Gen Asagiri

⤠ Jealousy HCs (GN Reader, Ryusui) ⤟ Dr. Stone Masterlist (soon!) ⤠ None ⤟

@/innoam​ ​​requested: Hi! Could I order some Asagiri Gen headcanons reacting to your sleeping s / o with your clothes? (With his clothes in the case) Welcome to the community! (As much as I'm not in the "writers group")

This was my first ever request for dr stone💞 I still struggle a lot with writing fluff somehow... - This is a rewriting of my old work, originally posted on @/severnrsstuff (now severnr0ses).

Walks in. Sees you. Walks out. You totally caught him off guard, and for a few seconds Gen doesn’t know what to do, he can hear his heart skipping a beat whatever he looks back at your sleeping form

If this was the modern world, he’ll just take a few pictures on his phone to totally not tease you later or keep as his wallpaper. But in the stone world he can’t do it, although he wishes to have it printed inside his head

Gen would let you sleep for a while, trying his hardest to not disturb you even if he really wants to, knowing that you work hard and deserve to rest. He will wake you up at a certain point, using this excuse to tease you

Whispering softly into your hear "my love, my darling! It's time to wake upp~~" while he gently shakes you, smiling happily when you open your eyes. “Did you miss me that much?~~ if you are that needy you can always call me you know that!" pls punch him

If you do dare to say that you missed him so much that you couldn’t sleep without something his close Gen is probably going to explode on the post. How dare you, you are so cute and adorable now he feels bad for teasing you when you had such a sweet reason

The clothing stays on you until you take it off and give it to him. Gen won’t ask it back either, instead acting like that piece of clothing is now yours and poor, poor him that has to buy new clothes...

He’ll continue like this for a long, long time. Gen will tease you everywhere. Alone? Yes. In front of everyone? Yes. He doesn't care. And he will not stop since, in all truth, it’s the cutest thing you could ever do for him. Plus seeing you so cute and embarrassed is a beautiful sight for him, so it’s a winwin situation

In fact you will notice that every time you are cold or you fall asleep somewhere, he’ll happily give you his clothes (even if he’s a little bit dramatic about it). He is very happy that you feel comfortable enough around him to wear his clothes

Gen would do it especially if someone else is ready to give you his clothes, like how dare!!

I can also see him leaving clothes on purpose so you can pick them and wear them or put over your body to sleep. If you asked Gen about it he’ll probably play it cool and say that he forgot about those, but if you so wish he can stop.

That’s because Gen was really happy the first time you fall asleep in his clothes, his heart was going to melt and that image wasn’t going to leave his mind soon. In fact if you keep doing it he’s more than thrilled in enabling you in this, but you have to worry about Gen stealing your clothes now...

This work belongs to @/astelren, do not repost, translate, copy, rewrite or share on tiktok without my permission. Reblogs are appreciated and encouraged♡

[quinloki]

So pre apology but I’m existing on very little sleep and the brain is not completely braining

HOWEVER

….

>>

I went with 7’0” for Thatch since he has no official height and we don’t really see him next to any other characters often to compare (and one piece heights are not consistent, let’s be real). And this already makes my brain go brrr

I legit could not get them out of my head ALL DAY it will not stop so pls have this little trinket of what my brain has come up with

Just imagining being like, a new recruit, and the 1st division commander stops you to ask how things are going after dinner. You’re having to look up at him a bit, but that’s normal around the crew. Thatch pops by, checking in as well. They’re the friendly type so if course they’re gonna check in on the cute new little recruit.

While y’all are chatting by the doorway of the mess hall, someone calls from above deck that land has been spotted. They both go to move you out of the pathway, essentially putting you between them, apologizing as a bunch of unruly crew members go to pass by right where you were all just at to see what kind of land is coming up.

And you go to reassure them it’s fine thank you for not letting you get trampled when you freeze, realizing just how big they are and how easily they just manhandled you out of the way and how you’re essentially buried between them as the crew passes by. You finally stutter it out, but it’s definitely not missed by either man the tone or the fact that you’re completely flushed.

They discuss and make it a point to really drive home the size difference in the next few days. Maybe coming up behind you, moving you gently while apologizing and saying they’re in a hurry. Or sitting on either side of you at a table as you read a book. Maybe even one of them offering to spar with you, wrapping their whole hand easily around your forearm to pull you down or over their shoulder.

By the end of a few days you’re a flustered mess and can’t stop picturing being between the two commanders in more than one way.

…..

Man it’s been awhile since I had such a fluid thought LOL I’m gonna do a few things and then head to bed and hopefully ponder this more bc… gods… I want them. A man who can manhandle me AND open the door/pull out a chair? Perfect xD

okay but I'm 154cm and ...

KAZ YOU ARE KILLING ME.

Oh gods and I can see it too, those two working together. They're besties if ever there were besties and you cannot convince me otherwise. The only reason Marco doesn't leave with Ace to get revenge on Teach is because Pops' word is law for him more than his own personal feelings, and he's come to that belief long before Ace ever crawled into existence.

BUT

Yeah. You're not going to get seduced by one or the other, it's going to be both. Marco's quiet and smooth, and Thatch is a little more animated about things, but just as smooth.

Eventually, it'll be Marco's finger under your chin, letting you get lost in his eyes, asking if they can kiss you, and you just nod almost dumbly like you've been having dreams about these two with all the interactions and teasing that they've done over the last few weeks. If someone doesn't kiss you you're going to explode or just yeet yourself overboard at this point.

Marco leans in, closing that sweet distance slow and steady, and gods your heart is going to just beat against your ribs until they crack, and just before you think it's going to happen, Thatch turns you toward him and kisses you.

The shift was planned between the two of them, specifically to just knock you off balance. You're dizzy from the sudden shift, and gods Thatch kisses like he flirts and right now you can't keep up with it, and the soft moan that tangle between your lips escapes when he leans back. Face flushed, hungry for more, Marco turns your attention back to him, hand warm against your face as he pulls you in.

His kiss is less of a rush, but the flood of blood into your face and lips because of Thatch is making the feel of Marco's lips against yours tingle. The action might be more reserved, but if you ever doubted before that they were in cahoots, you don't doubt it now.

Thatch raises your hand gently within his larger one, kissing the back of your hand softly as Marco lets you lean back from the kiss. There's no escape for you, not that you want it, not that you're being trapped. This isn't a yandere-styled story, the way you've been wooed and won over was soft and sweet, if not calculated and focused.

There's been no guessing in this game, and you know all the options available. Safe between the two, would easily make you the safest person on the grandline.

[kittyandco]

Hi! May I ask, how do you stay close to Hans in "this" world? How do you share experiences with him? I would love to have that closeness with my f/o but I'm finding it hard. Your post recently about him was beautiful and you two are such a lovely and perfectly suited couple!

hello! thank you so much 🥺💖

i've been with hans for almost 10 years (come december), and lately it's just... exploded. i've been able to connect with him on such a deep level that it's even surprised me a little bit! and on that front, i don't know how to explain it. it's just something i feel.

but here's more about how i am able to grow and feel very close to him and many of my other f/os:

a lot of it is just being naturally curious and wanting to know more and more about him. you might not know everything there is to know about your f/o. almost a decade later and i'm still learning about hans (and no, i don't mean with new content necessarily because he never really gets any!). i still find bits and pieces about him from people's archives/general internet archives like the wayback machine, from canon sources, from wiki pages, from new-to-me media (books i haven't read where he plays a major role). the more i learn about him, the closer i feel to him.

i also make it a point to make the fictional world in which we both occupy as immersive and detailed as possible. think about the little things. even if it isn't about you and your f/o together. think about your s/i and their world. make them more real to you, in a sense.

on that note, WRITE. write often about you and your f/o, or even your s/i, or just about your f/o. even if you don't write stories, you can just write about your f/o either from your POV or your s/i's. or you could use your f/o's POV to write about you!

you can also just write dialogue snippets or random moments you think of sharing with them. imagined them going to breakfast with you? great! write it down somewhere. what did they order? did they like the place you chose? why? why not?

think about the things (interests, characteristics, opinions, beliefs) you have in common, or that you bond over. it's probably more than you think! and you can always extrapolate if there isn't canon basis for literally everything you can think of (chances are, there won't be).

listen to your f/o's voice. often. in my case, it keeps me grounded and makes me feel safer

have an archive of pics you can look at. i use pinterest a ton. i have one board that's just hans. just his pretty face everywhere. but i also have a board that captures the vibes of our relationship, what my s/i is like (i.e. how do *I* fit into all this?), and the world we come from (so it could also extend to the vibes of whatever source your f/o is from too). i also have a board that visualizes my s/i. what does your s/i look like? what's in their closet/what do they wear? what do they like?

there's probably more but this is what i thought of off the top of my head!

and lastly, and likely most importantly: never be ashamed of your love. love unapologetically, passionately, and truthfully. with all your heart.

[ovaryacted]

hi nic!! any advice on how to start writing on tumblr? i have so many ideas for Leon fics (like, i swear, my head is about to explode) but this place terrifies me sm, i just want to write cheesy stuff about that man and give him a break

Heyyy anon! I know you sent this a couple of days ago but I hope my answers will be able to give you a guide. I also may not be so proficient on this since 1 - I started taking writing seriously in late August of last year and 2 - I'm sort of an inconsistent writer when it comes to fanfics lol. But regardless, I'll give you some tips that helped me along the way. This also may be a tad long so I apologize but I will try to make this cohesive lmao.

1 - For one, write what you want, not because it's popular but because you want to write it. In the beginning, I was always somewhat anxious about how other people would interpret my writing especially when it came to my understanding and experience of kinks, and as a result, I burnt myself out and stopped writing for a while. I also grew detached from the very thing that I enjoyed (Leon), and it made being a part of the community less fun even if it's crazy. Write what you want because you want to, not because it's popular or trendy but because it will make you happy. Don't do shit for clout or popularity either, especially if you're not interested in writing smut, because believe me you will start hating your comfort character and you don't want that to happen. The right people who like your content will find you and stick around, believe me. It's easier said than done to not get discouraged, but it's not impossible. KEEP GOING!

2 - Develop a style or aesthetic. You don't necessarily have to do this part, it's more of a personal preference thing, but I think finding a specific way to organize moodboards, pictures, or fonts will make your work stand out. It took me a while to figure out how I like setting up my posts in the certain way that I do, but it pays off because it feels more like I have ownership over my own work. Plus, it's fun making your posts cute, all the more reason to do it.

3 - Write things in the way you can best describe it. What I mean by this is don't feel discouraged that you don't use big extravagant words and metaphors in your writing. Sometimes, people will use very descriptive language that authors use and it can be hard to consume for people who want to come online and destress, now they have to figure out what words mean. (No hate to authors who do that either, very appreciative of them actually and they're very inspiring). All I'm saying is that you don't need to write like you're writing a thesis from Oxford, write how it comes to your head, and edit it after, no pressure. Writing is supposed to be fun, not stressful, so don't stress yourself out more by using words you don't need. Writing is a skill, which people often forget. So the more you do it, the more it will come naturally to you and you will develop your "writing style" on your own. What you should take away from this, is to just write what's on your mind anyway.

4 - When writing, have a plan. You don't always need an outline, and some people can write full pieces on the fly or just blurbs of small ideas that come to mind, but some brainstorming really helps. Usually, once you actually sit with an idea and plan it out a bit longer, you can find out other things you want to add to the piece you're putting out. It also just makes things more concrete, but then again, everyone has different ways to write. There's nothing wrong with testing out a few ways before doing it in the best way you understand.

5 - Follow creative writing pages for inspiration on prompts or writing tips. There is nothing wrong with seeking out material for inspiration or at least a start, or even following other writers and getting inspired to do your own twist or take on something they wrote (with credits obviously). There are so many pages out there that are meant to give creators a guide on how to strengthen their writing and ideas they can use for themselves. People don't own tropes or ideas, the world is your oyster, don't be scared to choose one thing and get that extra push you need to create what you want.

6 - Last thing I'll say is don't be scared to interact with other people. Tumblr is literally meant for interactions, without that we have nothing. I know this site is scary sometimes, but there are people on here who are in the same position as you right now, wanting to get started but don't know how. Sometimes, you just have to start and worry about all the other "professional" shit afterward. There is no right way to manage a blog, you do what you want to do on your space. Be weird! Be crazy! Be different! As long as you're having fun, that's all that should matter.

7 - And another thing, don't be afraid to use the tags. That's what they're there for, use them. You're not spamming the tags or being annoying, use them to give your posts visibility and keep it pushing.

Also big note: don't worry about other people, block who you need to block, and stay out of the drama. Believe me, it will make your time on here much easier to digest and less scary. The discourse is never worth it, because you don't know these people, and they don't know you. It's the internet, shape your own experience and what you want to do on here.

[fandomfluffandfuck]

I’m so sorry for spamming you but my mind is racing with ideas: you put the Life of Bucky Barnes Bucky NSFW art back on my dash and for the first time I thought… who’s taking the picture, Bucky??

And then I thought… maybe they’re recording a sex tape to fuck each other to later. Maybe Bucky will sit behind Steve with Steve’s limbs immobilized, slooowly stroking Steve’s cock as they watch Steve whimper like a whore on the TV, watch how Bucky sunk his teeth into Steve’s chest and shoulder until Steve cried, watch how Bucky rode Steve until Steve’s eyes rolled back into his head.

And the other possibilities… both of them always having a bit of an exhibitionist streak, but they’re possessive enough that it’s really only with each other. Steve used to have Bucky fuck him from behind in front of a mirror so Steve could frantically sketch them before it got to be too much and he had to bury his face in the sheets. Maybe Bucky saved up for months for a second-hand camera and the chemicals to make their own dark room so he could take pictures of his dick stretching Steve’s rim or Steve’s cock in his mouth.

Oh how wonderful the modern world is when it’s so much easier to satisfy these desires, save pieces of each other to enjoy whenever they want.

related to this

Don't apologize! I'm loving this--I love hearing all your ideas.

Ooh, that's a good thought 👀 I've never had that before either. I must've just filed it away as a timer or tripod or something subconsciously, lol.

I fucking love the idea of that drawing being a screenshot from the middle of their sex tape. Like, goddamn, that is perfect.

And then you added on even more perfection in the form of them using the sex tape for later. Woof.

I am obsessed with the idea of power bottom Bucky that you've insinuated here--he's the one riding Steve until his eyes roll back into his head, overwhelmed, and he's the one sinking his teeth into his pale skin, biting until he's bruised, pink and soft and vulnerable like a ripe peach. Bucky is the one that's making Steve feel so good in the video, and he's the one denying Steve of physical pleasure in the moment.

Because of Bucky, Steve is now restrained in front of the TV, watching himself on the big screen. As much as he can, he's squirming, his dick is hard and leaking, aching to be shoved in the tight, wet space of Bucky's fever-hot body, and he's so fucking turned on that even though Bucky hasn't touched them, his nipples are hard, tight peaks. He's slick with sweat. Hair matted to his forehead. Panting. Eyes glued to the screen. Straining to hear every desperate pant, every whore-ish whimper, every slutty moan, and every filthy word or sentence that spills over from Bucky's mouth like thick, intoxicating liquor.

Yeah, Steve is taking in every pixel of pleasure he received as he gets, right now, absolutely none.

Any pleasure he does think he gets... it's all in his head. Unreal. The memory of how the touches felt. The way his nerves twitched and melted. The fire under his skin. The tightening of his muscles. The loss of thoughts, replaced entirely with nothing but, "Bucky, Bucky, Bucky BuckyBuckyBuckyBuckyBucky--"

So, by the time they've watched for long enough for the big finish of the video to be approaching, Bucky barely has to wrap up Steve's cock and stroke him once, twice, three times before he's shooting off. Hard enough to see stars with a scream ripping from his chest. Fighting the restraints. Unspeakably worn out, replaying every part of the past experience with the details of this moment--immobilized, spread thin, denied, worn down until Bucky could've breathed on his hurting cock and he would've exploded.

It's exhaustion in the most satisfying way 😮‍💨

Your other possibilities are also very, very delicious, but, goddamn, I couldn't help but latch onto the first one. I do love the idea of Bucky having a secret dark room back in the day, too. I wonder if those photos could've ossibly survived... I'm sure that'd jog Bucky's memory in the future if he found them in Steve's possessions in their shared apartment in the new century 👀

Thank you for sharing!

[solmints-messyocdiary]

Tw: Animal death, suicide mention, blood, gore, torture mention, violent ideas

[Mismatched excerpts ripped off from Finley's Journal. The dates have been scribbled away with a black pen.]

It feels weird writing on a journal. Like something a teenager might do instead of a grown ass man who works from 9 to 5.

But I needed to destress and let it out on some pages after talking with my mother on the phone. I hate hearing her shrill voice on the other side of the receiver. The only thing she can do is complain and complain and complain about the same thing over and over again. I don't want to see that man either... I hate him more than her.

I can't handle her and to think I have to go and visit them on Thanksgiving and Christmas I feel like I am going to lose my damn head.

At least I can let things out and still practice my writing if needed, so that's a plus. I haven't had much time to update my book, and that's making me a bit sad. Hopefully, I'll be able to write a bit.

Might treat myself and go the diner to get some choco pancakes and a milkshake. Those will surely cheer me up.

Really want pancakes and milkshakes...

-

The longer I stay on this damn job, the more I feel like I am going to lose myself. I've been spacing out every 5 minutes whenever someone talks to me. It's hard. (Hehe)

I had to stay 2 more hours overtime, no pay for my hard work the 3rd time this week. I had to wake up earlier, too. I arrived around 8 instead of 9 because the computers were acting up at my workplace and needed me, the IT guy, to fix them.

Not to mention, the printer too... If I have to fistfight the printer again, or hear any of my coworkers complain, particularly Brandon, I am going to strangle them. I am really going to snap!!!

I wish their heads would just explode into a bloody mess. Just Carrie them off with my mind powers whenever I feel annoyed of them. They surely deserve that, particularly Brandon and my boss. Fuck those two. The world would be better if they didn't exists. We don't need red flags walking around the office... only me! Haha!

-

I promised myself to do it again, but alas, old habits die hard as the saying goes.

Went to the beach for a dip and found a baby bird on the sand. Ants surrounding its small body and biting pieces away to bring it to their lair. Lucky for me, I always have my camera with me. Never the one to miss a chance.

I guess I should be sad but that's how nature is.

Cruel.

I wonder how others would react if they saw my ant-bitten corpse...

-

Finished rewatching Scream 2 and...

Damn... Why is Mickey kinda...?

Like... you know? If I was a girl I'd be into him and have his poster hanging over my bedroom wall haha.

Still angry at Scream 2 for killing Randy, tho. He was my favorite.

Rented Carrie, Slaughter High, Graduation, Prom Night, for tonight. Felt a bit nostalgic for some reason. Getting shoved in a locker every tuesday really does something to a guy. Going to have a nice movie night with myself while I think of my high school times.

Totally good for my mental stability, yup!

-

I wonder how my old high school friends have been doing...

Do they remember me with disdain? Are they happy with their life? More successful? Managed to marry a nice gal or guy and have many kids together? A stable job and nice suburban house?

...

Fuck them.

-

Death still scares me.

I thought that if I forced myself to witness the worst of the worst. Every torture imaginable, researching hours and hours and hours of how a body decays, how long does it take for it to rot, shrink, turn into dust.

Live footages of people getting decapitated, stabbed, run over, split in half, drowned, squashed to death, gutted, burned alive, choked, flayed.

I'd grow out of it.

It's not that hard to look for stuff like that as long as you know where to find it and you're patient.

Will I ever be able to look at their loved ones in their eyes. Admit that I saw the last moments of their brother, mother, a cousin? The light leaving their eyes?

I thought I've become numb enough to just stare attentively, not blinking for a second.

People I know will die one day. Complete strangers, lives of theirs I will never know, are dying as I write this.

And yet, I remain wide awake. Imagining how it'll feel for my body to reach nothingness. The maggots feasting on my insides, eating away little by little. Gourging themselves on the bile and flesh and pus from my organs till they become fat, squirmy little bugs. Eating, mating, dying, rinse and repeat over and over and over again.

My skin itches thinking of it. Like they have already managed to crawl deep inside.

Even a death as boring and not spectacular like an illness terrifies me.

-

How long do I have left? Have I wasted my life? Is it too late for me?

When will I die...

-

I miss my friends from high school... some of them I've forgotten their names...

I sometimes think about Chelsea. No, I am always thinking about her...

If I contact her... will she ever forgive me?

It's too late to cry over spilt milk.

-

Seems I've been thinking about death a lot lately.

I went to go see a movie to try and fend of the feelings of dread and paranoia that have been seeping in me.

Stale popcorn, overpriced and oversized. Check.

Watered down soda. Check.

Badly directed horror film? Check.

Annoying and talkative patrons? Double check.

The blood effects weren't as cool compared to others, but at least the lead was hot even if she couldn't act to save her life.

-

Why am I even trying?

-

I made a blog.

I post all the pictures I've taken from dead animals and roadkill.

-

I feel numb.

-

I haven't been feeling real as of late. I even dared touch one of the spilt out guts of a cat behind an alleyway. I wanted to feel something. See if I was still here. I pushed my fingers in, feeling the slimy and sticky organs. It burned and I janked my hand away.

It felt surreal.

I can't feel my hands or face at times. Like they weren't even there to begin with.

-

I think I might go to a therapist.

-

I want to die...