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alphabetboyluvr · 11 months

Text

once the thrill expires | jjk

title credit: cardigan - taylor swift

pairing: college!jungkook x female reader

synopsis:

your housemate-turned-fwb takes another girl home after a night out

warnings: angsty, smutty turmoil. it's not that bad, but it definitely isn't a happy lil number. fingering, oral sex (f receiving), rimming (f receiving), vaginal sex, doggy, protected (!!) sex, lil spanks, jaykay sorta makes out with her ear???, jaykay is a fawk boy who needs to learn self-control, oc is holding out for something that'll never happen, multiple partners in one night (jk), jk calls the reader diz (dizzy)

wordcount: 5.8K

note from holly: virgo boy trauma for you in the form of a jk one shot lmao. it's rare you get virgo boy shit laid this bare but he he i love oversharing on the internet! there's an old paragraph from yet another virgo boy fic hidden in here, too so if you think it looks familiar, that'll be why!!

minors dni // cross posted to wattpad

The knock on your en-suite bathroom door comes as a surprise.

The subsequent twist of the lock mechanism from a coin wedged in the bolt on the other side does not.

There’s only one person it would be.

And so you don’t yell. Don’t tell him to go away, even if you do hug your legs into your chest a little tighter.

Sitting on the floor of your shower, dignity is preserved - but with skin as red as the flags that Jungkook freely hands you, and mascara staining your cheeks from the onslaught of piping hot water showering down on you, how dignified can you really be?

No words are spoken as the steam billows from the room, Jungkook not caring to shut the door behind himself. He takes a perch on the closed lid of the toilet, elbows to his knees, tattooed hands clasped beneath his chin. Refuses to look anywhere other than you.

There’s perplexion to his taut jaw - a frown embedded in his brows - but more than anything, there’s an overwhelming sense of confusion in his soft eyes. You’re unaware of the way he’s mirroring your expression back at you; how defeated you look, wet hair sticking to the side of your face, an emptiness in your gaze that is pale in comparison to the void in your chest.

With nothing but the pitter-patter of your shower to fill the space, you’re thankful that he can’t hear the way your heart is beating, or how you’re sniffing back the tears you were freely crying before he arrived.

“Jem messaged me,” he eventually says, quiet beneath the sound of the water. Leaning back, he wipes a palm over his face, then pushes it back into his dishevelled hair. Lets his hand fall between his legs, then shrugs as he looks at you as if to say, 'Don’t look at me like that' or 'It’s not my fault.'

And realistically, you know that it isn’t. Whatever he’s done is within the parameters of what was agreed upon. The way you feel - like Jungkook has stolen the moon and stopped the tides from turning - is not.

It’s not like either of you had ever expected to let things get this far, and definitely not for this long.

What had started as quiet kisses in the corners of clubs when your friends weren’t looking, had catapulted into drunken hook-ups after those aforementioned nights out.

He’d call you Dizzy, ‘cause he was convinced you looked at him like you’d been spinning in circles, all awe-struck and smiley. Pretty. Like a giggle was on the tip of your tongue at all times.

Was easy, back then. Convenient. He was newly single. Not looking for anything.

You’d been quietly harbouring an illicit crush on him from the day you moved into your shared university accommodation. Had been waiting for the stars to align - and once they had, you were certain that soulmates had to exist.

It’s the only way you can explain the small earthquake that happened half the world away at the very time you first met, the tectonic plates shifting to make sure you were perfectly presented to one another.

You didn’t feel the tremors - would have been impossible - but your heart certainly felt something. Adrenaline? Limerence? You’re not sure.

Whatever it was only became more and more prevalent with every tipsy hold of his hand on the way to clubs, or moments stolen in secrecy in the house you now share with six of your friends.

Now in your final year of university, if you spent as much time studying, as you do fretting over Jungkook - what he’s up to, who he’s with - maybe you’d get a first-class degree.

You’re on track for a 2:1.

He’s on track for a first, though.

You choose to believe it’s because he’s naturally more academically inclined (as if you didn’t write an entire paper for him last semester), and not because he spends significantly less time thinking about you.

There’s no need for endless thoughts, though.

The arrangement is simple: You’re friends.

Best friends. Spend all your time together. Are plus ones to events. Fill the void that a partner should fill; at the winter balls, cinema screenings you don't want to see alone, and in the hushed privacy of midnight intimacy. He gets you off when you need it, and you him.

Kisses are never shared between lips - apart from that one summer when he accidentally said he was in love with you, then took it back a week later under the guise of not wanting to ‘ruin’ the friendship.

You don’t speak about that summer.

Hook-ups are in your room, always, ‘cause you’ve only got Jem in the room next door. Jungkook’s room is up on the middle floor, surrounded by all the boys. They’d realise what’s going on far too quickly.

It’s simple - yet excruciatingly complicated when there’s a lack of commitment, and Jungkook looks at you in the way that he does.

His lips are a little deeper than their usual pink this evening, but you put it down to alcohol.

Denial is a wonderful thing, and delusion even greater.

Still, he leans forward to push the shower door open. Leans further still, then knocks the tap off. Lets the water trickle down the drain, the hum of the pipes murmuring like your unspoken grievances.

Rivulets of water chase down your skin. Jungkook watches one race from your knee to your ankle, running straight over the bruises from messy nights out and the small cut at the bottom of your calf from the fountain you’d both traipsed through when you were a little too merry a few nights prior.

He’d given you a piggyback the entire way home, blood staining the white of his shirt; the very essence of you embedded now in the fabric of him.

He’d patched you up after you got home. Showered with you, right here, then carried you the measly five or six steps to your bed. Had told you that you’d definitely get sepsis and die. Kissed it better, then decided he didn’t know any better, and trailed his lips up your leg. Took pity on your impending death and gave you a little, lovely death just to soften the blow.

Funny, how you think sepsis would be preferable over whatever the fuck it is that you’re feeling now.

“Jem messaged me,” he repeats. Presses his lips together, the ring in the corner of his mouth glistening under the white lights of the bathroom. “Said I should check on you. Been in the shower for an hour, apparently.”

Well, you think to yourself, bitterness wrapping around your words like poison ivy. You’ve checked. You can go now.

The words don’t manifest in your throat. Nothing does. Not even the echo of a sob you’ve been holding in since he first stepped foot within your sanctuary.

Instead you’re silent as you get to your feet, not caring for your nakedness. It’s nothing Jungkook hasn’t seen before. Probably knows your body better than his own at this point. Can look at the faded bruise on your chest and know that it was left there by his lips last week. Can pick out which ones of your dainty linework tattoos were there before he met you, and which ones have been acquired since.

It’s a quiet intimacy, the way Jungkook looks at you. There’s no towel in the bathroom - an oversight by your tipsy brain when deciding you needed to wash yourself clean of the man in front of you after arriving home from the club - and Jungkook doesn’t care to offer you one.

Insanity is the product of looking at your body, he thinks. Can’t remember a time he’s ever seen you like this and hasn’t wanted to be inside you. He’s a simple man in pursuit of simple pleasures, and the way you fit him like a glove is the simplest pleasure of them all.

“Hm?” He questions your lack of a response.

His deep black eyes are just like the depths of the ocean floor, and it feels like he’s dragging you right down every single time he looks at you like this. Softly. Tenderly. Sweetly. As if he actually gives a shit.

There’s no room for two in this bathroom. It’s not a space designed to be shared, no matter how many times you’ve both squeezed into the shower under far different circumstances - though now you come to think of it, perhaps they weren’t so dissimilar.

It was always Jungkook’s pursuit of pleasure that put you in that position, just like it put you there tonight.

“Hey,” he says quietly, as you turn to leave, his grip on your waist pulling you between his legs. You don’t look at him. Just keep your head turned to face out of the room - but you make no attempt to leave. Especially when his nose brushes up against the bottom of your ribs right between your breasts, and he husks, “Why are you being like this?”

The softness of his lips as he presses them against your sternum, long lashes splayed across the top of his cheeks, has you spiralling. Kind of feels like he’s twisting a corkscrew through your heart. You know he’ll rip it right out - but maybe you’ll let him, if it means he’ll kiss the wound better.

“Hmm?” He hums. One of your hands rests on his shoulder, the other in his hair, and that’s how Jungkook knows he’s rectified the damage done for a short while. It’s like putting washi tape over holes punched in the walls - useless, and bound to fall off eventually, but ever so pretty in the meantime. Another washi-tape kiss is pressed to your skin, a little higher this time. “We had a good night, didn’t we?”

The tenderness of his voice rewrites the events of the evening. A good night.

Not one with tears, and jealousy, and arguments that people who claim to be just friends have no business having. A night shared together, perhaps, with no one else to intrude.

Didn’t we?

You so prefer this false chain of events - the one where he left the bar with you, and held your hand in the cab ride back just like he’d done in the cab ride there.

“Is she still here?”

He’s surprised that you’re mentioning it. Half-expected you to act like it never happened. Like she never happened. Is what you usually do, whenever he goes home with someone that isn’t you.

Still, he just continues to gently stroke your sides. Doesn’t present you with any sort of weakness.

“No.”

“Did you fuck her?”

There’s a little venom to your tone; the poison ivy around your thoughts sprouting now from your throat.

Her. Some inconsequential girl that neither of you will likely ever see again. Looked nothing like you, but a hell of a lot like his ex.

“No, Diz,” he softens the sternness of his tone with a name only he calls you. “I didn’t fuck her.”

You’ve no idea if this is a lie or not.

It’ll be accepted as truth for an hour. Maybe two. Just enough time for you to convince yourself that you’re the one he wants. That he couldn’t bear to fuck anyone else. That he sent her on her way after a kiss or awkward fumble, because he realised no one else could feel as good as you.

You’ll ignore the fact you know he’s here because Jem messaged him.

You’ll ignore the fact he thinks you’ve been in the shower for over an hour, and has no actual knowledge of the events of it all.

You’ll ignore the scratch mark on his back, and in the morning you’ll believe it was you who left there even though your nails are bitten right down.

The lies you’ll tell yourself will be far more grand than the ones Jungkook ever tells you. Nobody can ever hurt you quite like you hurt yourself.

And so, against your better judgement, you let him follow you to your bed.

There's a clang as he tosses his rings down into the ceramic dish beside your bed. It's white, and speckled in tiny black dots, and matches the one Jungkook has in his own bedroom. Not really a surprise. He was the one who bought it for you. Before then, he used to just tuck his rings beneath your pillows - but he kept losing them, and he found it annoying having to rummage around for them whenever he was trying to make a silent exit so as to not wake you.

You tell yourself that small things like this are Jungkook's way of integrating himself into your life; creating permanence. In reality, it's just something that makes it easier for him to leave.

Leaving is the last thing on your mind right now, though, and it will be until he comes.

It used to be different. He used to stay. You convince yourself each and every time that he’ll do what he used to do before things got so confusing. That he’ll stay, and that things will be okay.

You let him kiss your skin, but he’ll never kiss your lips. Let him lay claim to your body, even though you know he’ll never lay claim to your soul.

It’s nice to pretend.

Nice, when he lays you down and rids himself of his shirt. Nice, when he presses your legs apart, and looks at you like you’re the first woman he’s ever laid eyes upon. Nice, when he says shit like, “Such a nice cunt,” and “Let me make you feel good.”

So nice, when he strokes up and down your inner thigh, eyes trained on your pussy.

So, so nice when he slowly drips a little spit between his pursed lips and watches as it trails down your folds.

So fucking nice, when he spreads you with his index and middle finger, groaning at the sight of you.

See, Jungkook can be nice. Can be honest. Can tell you how much he wants you, and you can believe him without having to do mental gymnastics over it all.

As he sinks his middle finger into you - “Shit. So wet for me, aren’t you?” - Jungkook is on his best behaviour. He’ll make you feel so good that you’ll forget he ever made you feel bad, cause he needs this. Needs you.

Not in the life-debilitating, earth-shattering, universe-bending way that you need him, but in a way that isn’t too dissimilar.

You’re his best friend. He loves you in his own, curious way. Would lay his life on the line for you. Just can’t seem to keep his dick in his pants for no other reason than selfish gluttony.

It’s his fatal flaw, but he just thinks everyone has them. That most people are like this.

Of the seven deadly sins, Jungkook wields them all. Too proud to admit his wrongdoings. Greedy in his need to have everything life can offer, and how he refuses to limit himself to just you. His lust and gluttony go hand in hand - yet whenever any one else with similar predispositions look in your direction, he turns green with envy. Green, until he’s red, wrath taking hold.

But he’s lazy, too. Far too settled in how easy it is to have his way with you. Why would he try harder when you never make him?

That’s your cardinal sin: desperation.

It reeks. Spiced vanilla and black cherry. Tarnishes your skin, until Jungkook licks it from you.

And so as his lips press down your legs, wet and wanting, you don’t object. In fact, you don’t really do anything. You just allow it to happen.

Because you are desperate - for him, his approval, his desire. His heart.

You’ll never get it, mind you, for his heart is hollow.

Saw every example of what he considered to be true love crackle and crumble until it fell apart. Parents divorced. High-school sweetheart cheated. Love, as you know it, doesn’t exist in Jungkook’s understanding of life.

You never stood a chance. Not really.

The only times his heart is full is when he steals enough adoration from yours, and cosplays it as his own. Shines it back at you, and tricks you into thinking that maybe he did mean it when he mumbled false declarations into your lips.

But that was three summers ago, now, and Jungkook is a creature of habit. Too stuck in his ways to ever change. Comfortable in this chaos with you.

‘Cause while the other girls are fleeting, and fun, and always very nice, they’re never comfortable. Not like you are.

“I liked your dress tonight,” he whispers, as he pushes a second finger into you. Pumps them gently, palm skywards, coaxing soft little moans from your lips. Curls them just right, just like he always does.

The affection of such a compliment rids you of the haunting way he’d looked at you earlier that evening.

Up, down. No smile. Turned away to change the song coming through the aux at pre-drinks. Didn’t look at you again until he was passing out shots for everyone to take. Just nodded towards your necklace - the one his hobbyist silversmith mother made you for Christmas - and asked, “You like it?”

The pendant is small. Embossed with the letters DJ - the name his mother collectively calls you whenever you spend the summer together at his place. The hammered edge of the pendant matches the ring that wraps around your thumb. Another one of her creations, gifted to you by him for your birthday.

“Of course I do,” you’d said. Seemed silly for him to ask. You wear it most days.

“Good,” he’d nodded, then took his shot and pretended as if he wasn't all too aware that your dress would be attracting good-for-nothing men all night.

See, Jungkook knows you like the necklace. Had just been reminding you of it, and the fact it’s his initial on there with the initial only he calls you. Well, him and his mother. Goes with the territory.

She’s seen you through your formative years. Only ever sees the good parts, because Jungkook orchestrates it that way.

She doesn’t see the moments like these, when he’s crushed your self esteem and tries to fix it in the most idiotic of ways.

The necklace pools around the base of your throat as your head tips back into the pillows, his thumb coming to toy with your clit, gently pressing down.

“Shush, Diz,” he smiles, so pleased to see your body responding in the way that it always does. “You’ll get us in trouble.”

God forbid the people you live with - who’ve all heard the arguments after his illicit encounters with randomers, and seen his face of thunder whenever you’re getting ready for first dates - ever figure out you’re fucking. Not like it’s obvious in the slightest. Not why Jem texted Jungkook, instead of checking on you herself.

Biting onto your wrist, you try and stifle the impact of his touch - ‘cause if they do hear, it will be your fault. You’ll be the reason everyone knows your dirty little secrets. You’ll be the one who ruins it all. Not him. Just you.

He doesn’t mean to condition you in such a way. Doesn’t even really realise he’s doing it.

Nor do you - but your self esteem is shot to shit. You’re good enough to fuck, but not good enough to love, even if Jungkook insists that there’s no one he adores more. It always comes with an add-on of ‘you’re my best friend’, or ‘you wouldn’t wanna date me anyways’.

Maybe he’s right.

But maybe it would have been nice to try.

Shame.

The pace of Jungkook’s fingers pumping into you begins to slow. Leaking around the base of his knuckles, you’re just as wet as you always are with him. Even when the emotional labour of letting him have his way with you feels like a ten tonne weight on your chest, crushing down on your ribs and spoiling you forevermore, your body still wants him. Only him. Always him.

Withdrawing his fingers, Jungkook taps the outer side of your thigh. “On your front for me, Diz. Face down, ass up.”

With anyone else, Jungkook is far more often on the receiving end. It’s a shame, ‘cause his talents go to waste, it’s just what he’s found to be typical of random hook-ups.

He loves pussy. Loves eating it. Loves that you love it, too.

Slow as he spreads your ass with his hands, Jungkook really doesn’t fuck around with wasting time. He dives in without hesitation, burying his tongue between your folds. Cares not for accuracy, nor carefulness. Just wants his tongue all over you.

Your body lurches forward, hands clutching onto the duvet beneath you. He’s always been like this. Hungry. Just as desperate as you so often feel, but better at hiding it than you are.

His tongue laps against you. Sinks into your soaked hole as deep as he can get it. Uses one of his hands to reach around and toy with your clit while he continues to explore somewhere he knows like the back of his hand.

Pulling back a little, Jungkook’s breathing is heavy. You can hear it. Groan, as he grips your ass again. Spanks it softly, then get back to his previous position. Licks a stripe from your clit up to your leaking cunt, then continues. Flicks up against the tight muscle you rarely let him fuck around with.

But you want him to want you. Want him to have you in whichever capacity he so desires.

You reach back. Tangle a hand in his hair, and encourage him to massage your tight hole with his tongue, like you know he loves to do.

It’s kinda cute, in a way. He likes doing it, ‘cause he loves the way it feels whenever your tongue toys with his ass. Assumes other people must love it too. Just wants you to feel good. Wants to right his earlier wrongs.

He continues to trace up and down both your holes, stimulating your entire body in the process. Rubs your clit with his fingers, till you're writhing against the sheets, body pressed flat to the cotton as Jungkook begins to fuck his fingers into your again.

“You gonna cum for me?” He husks, a smile on his wet lips as he watches the tell-tale sign of an orgasm rush over you. Soon, you’ll be looking at him with dizzy eyes once more, and your namesake will make Jungkook feel things he pretends he can’t feel. “That’s it, Diz. All over my fingers. Good girl. Good fuckin’ girl.”

There’s a relief that comes with your orgasm for Jungkook. Hope that you’ll stop being mardy with him. He doesn’t like it when you don’t like him. These days, he keeps making choices that make it hard for you to like him.

But you always like him - like him so much - in the comedown of a climax.

He doesn’t give you much time to recover. Wants to coax a second orgasm from you while he still can. Pulls you back into position - face down, ass up - and pushes down his sweats. Cock hard, there’s a small damp patch in his boxers from the precum he’s leaked for you. Lines himself up.

“Let me fuck you,” he begs before he pushes into you.

“Uh-uh,” you full forward a little, preventing him from doing what he so desperately wants to do. Turning to look over your shoulder, you shake your head. “Condom.”

He furrows his brows. Has the audacity to look fucking offended, as if he didn’t bring another girl back to the house you share.

You’re stupid, and you’re desperate, and you make all the wrong choices, but you aren’t naive. Not really. Your delusions and denial are always elevated away from reality, of which you like to think you have a firm grip on.

And so you simply say, “Don’t believe you didn’t fuck her.”

He doesn’t deny it. Shakes his head, not that you can see it. Just reaches to the shelf above your bed, and gets one from the pot you keep them tucked away in. Rarely ever use them. It’s a novelty, more than not, when you use them. Something to make him last a little longer.

It’s different today.

Today, it’s because you don’t know if his cock is fucking clean or not.

It should crush you, but it doesn’t.

Just a fact of life. Jungkook fucked someone else less than three hours ago. Came, probably. For someone else. Over someone else. Inside someone else.

But that desperation of yours is back once more. You want to be the reason why Jungkook loses his mind in temporary bliss. To be better. To be his last memory of the evening.

And so as Jungkook rolls the condom down his thick shaft, you position yourself perfectly for him. Whimper as the tip of his cock kisses your entrance. Whine, as he pushes inside you.

“That’s it,” he husks, gripping your ass cheeks to spread them nice and wide. Looking down to where your bodies meet, Jungkook is reminded of why he enjoys you so much. No one takes him so well. No one. He knows this. Doesn’t know why the fuck he ever feels the need to seek out anyone else. They’re never as good as this. “Fuck. That’s it, baby.”

Your hips roll back, ass bouncing in that hypnotic way he always swears will ruin him. His grip loosens to let you do the hard work, one of his hands stroking up your spine until it’s resting around the base of your throat.

Taking back a little control, he keeps your head pushed into the pillows. Grunts. “Take this cock so fuckin’ well, don’t you?”

The mumble you moan into the sheets isn’t enough for him. He always does this. Asserts control and then realises he actually kinda fuckin’ hates it. Fingers still wrapped around the base of your neck, Jungkook pulls you up.

Chest pressed to your back, Jungkook wastes no time locking you in place with an arm around the front of your waist. His cock continues to pump upwards into you, the movements a little subdued but by no means lacking.

The ridge of his thick head rubs up against your sweet spot. Gets you so fucking needy. Has your hand dipping to your clit to match the pressure.

And when you do? Oh, it’s heaven. You can’t help but whine - so Jungkook uses the hand that isn't on your waist to cover your mouth.

“You only get to cum if you’re quiet,” he tells you. “Be quiet for me, baby.”

But his hips are erratic. The sounds are lewd; skin on skin. It’s wet. Disgusting. Needy. Him, just as much as you. Sweat blossoms on his skin, keeping you both in this clammy haze of hedonism.

Catching his lips on your ear, Jungkook doesn’t care if he isn’t supposed to let kisses linger so close to your lips. Tongue wet, he intrudes. Licks the shell of your ear. Grazes his teeth on your lobe. Whispers, “You looked so pretty tonight,” then drags his tongue across your ear.

Cares not for precision nor accuracy, just the fact that this is an area of the body he doesn’t often explore, and that maybe he should do it more often, given how tightly your pussy is clamping around him.

There’s something about it - the obstruction of one of your senses likely to blame, sound distorted whenever his tongue licks against it - that makes you whine.

You can’t even really do that now. Are too muffled beneath his hand - until he pushes the two fingers that had been inside your pussy earlier into your mouth.

The taste is just the same as it always is whenever he does shit like this. Loves having you taste yourself. Experiencing what he experiences. Wants you to know exactly why he’s incapable of letting you go.

“Slutty little mouth,” he smirks against your ear. “Gonna finish in it.”

“Mhhm?” you mumble against the fingers you’re keeping wet and warm for him.

“Mhmm,” he replies. Presses a kiss to your temple, ‘cause he isn’t really thinking straight. Groans when your cunt clenches from the touch. “God, you want it, don’t you? Want it so bad. Wanna swallow my cum.”

Of course you do. You’ll take what he’ll give you.

Your mumble around his fingers isn’t enough. He wants to hear you say it. Frees your mouth of himself. Grips your chin between his forefinger and thumb. Turns you to face further over your shoulder.

He’s just gonna make you say it. Just make you say something lewd to get him a little closer. Just… Just gonna… Just...- Oh, fuck it. Your lips are just there, and they’re wet, and they’re pouty and - God, forgive me - perfect for him.

His eyes flitter between your eyes and your lips. Is aware you’re doing the same.

“Kook,” you whisper, as if you’re about to reprimand him.

“Please,” he begs. Thinks he needs this just as much as you do. Maybe even more so.

And so somewhere between the overwhelming acknowledgement that this is a catastrophic chain of events, and the promise of a happy ending (of which you know damn well will never reach fruition), you let him sink his lips into yours.

You’re pretty in war, and even prettier in defeat.

Jungkook thinks you’re prettiest when you’re all his.

You think that to be his is to accept an eternal loss.

The breath of his nose is heavy against your cheek as his lips press into yours, brows furrowed. The need for you to be lewd is abandoned, ‘cause Jungkook doesn’t even think he’ll last long enough for it. Thinks that nothing gets him closer than the flavour of your lips.

Hips still jerking up, the sound of his skin hitting your ass echoing around the room, Jungkook fucks himself into you until he can do it no longer. Pulls away. Rips off his condom. Tosses it to the floor. Gets you face down again. Wanks himself to the point of coming undone, hot spurts of cum dripping onto your ass and spilling down to the valley of your spine.

He’s the one moaning now, your body defiled by a boy who you wish would paint you in pretty compliments instead. Still, this is a compliment. Kind of. You’re hot enough to make him cum. That’s nice, you suppose.

“Shit,” he chokes out, breathing all out of sync, heartbeat far too rapid. A light spank is tapped against your ass, then softly stroked. He soothes. Aloe on sunburn. Milk with hot sauce. Pretty kisses in the comedown of a rough fuck.

You won’t get those. Wasn’t a particularly rough fuck, either - and yet it hurts so much when he gets up to leave.

It’s awkward. He doesn’t really say bye. Doesn’t acknowledge the fact he stoked a fire inside you that burned you from the inside out. Ignores the ashes that are scattered around your vessel, as if your soul has been ejected from its home.

He’s warm, when you look at him. That little part of your heart has been stolen once more. He’s just feeding it back to you.

“Sorry,” he says, a hand on your doorknob. “I shouldn’t- I mean, we shouldn’t-”

“It’s fine,” you offer.

That’s the thing about Jungkook. He’ll give you the world, then realise it was never his to give. Always has to ask for it back. You’ve lost count of how many times he’s fucked you, then acted as if was foolish - only to repeat the same mistakes the next evening.

It’s what he’s always done, and is what he’ll always do.

You’ll never learn.

The shirt you chuck on to head downstairs the next morning is his.

Far too big for you, it finishes around your thighs. Television blaring in the room beneath you, it’s obvious your housemates are awake, and even as you’re trudging down the stairs, you’re not quite sure you’re alive.

The headache of an overbearing hangover is threatening your life. You’re certain of it. The fact your housemates have the television set to what must be the maximum volume? Only further sending you to an early grave.

And yet when you see Jungkook sitting by the breakfast bar, hair in all different directions, a bowl of cereal in front of him, and smiling in the direction of whomever else is in the room, you find yourself smiling, too.

“Morning,” you say pleasantly as you walk into the kitchen, ready to flop your forehead down on Jungkook’s shoulder like you so often do.

Ready, until you notice the look in his eyes when he turns to face you.

Ready, until you glance in the direction of his previous smile.

Ready, until you see the girl who looks a lot like his ex-girlfriend and absolutely nothing like you leaning on the other side of the counter. Mug from your trip to Amsterdam together in her hands, and the shirt you got him for his birthday covering her body, she smiles.

You’re drowning.

“Oh,” you say, not looking at him. Only her. “I didn’t realise we had company.”

“Is she still here?”

“No.”

She’s awkward as she nods. “Sorry, hey. I crashed here last night - hope you don’t mind? It’s just you know what it’s like getting an uber at that time-”

“Yeah, yeah,” you nod. Smile. Jungkook thinks you look pretty - but of course he does. You look defeated. “Totally.”

“Did you fuck her?

“No, Diz. I didn't fuck her.”

“Jungkook said you were feeling unwell last night?” She tries to make conversation. She needn’t. You feel far more unwell now than you ever did last night - and that’s before you notice the pretty purple bruise forming on her neck. “How are you feeling now?”

Her care is kind. Considerate. Wholly wasted on you because you’re gonna lie, and say that you’re fine, even though it feels as if your lungs have been filled with venom spat by a lover who is incapable of loving.

Still, you don’t look at Jungkook. Just make your excuses. Leave.

And even though he knows that he should, Jungkook doesn’t chase after you.

He lets you go, because he knows you’ll always come back. You always do.

But if you don't?

Well, he’ll go back to you, and you’ll let him. Again, you always do.

From the kitchen, Jungkook can hear your showering starting up. Appetite lost, he isn’t listening to the girl in front of him. Isn’t even really sure of her name.

All that he’s sure of is that the fall out of this is not gonna be pretty.

#jungkook fanfiction #jungkook angst #jungkook smut #jungkook ff #jk ff #jungkook masterlist #jungkook fic #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook x oc #jeon jungkook smut #bts fanfic #byholly #angst #smut #jungkook x y/n #fuckboy!jungkook #college!jungkook #college au

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c0ld0utside · 3 months

Note

hey don’t push yourself to post a work every day, you’ll get brunt out. Go at your own pace, we’ll wait :)

also, have you thought of a human father with a monster child? Like he just grabbed a monster off the street lmao

OHOHO I LOVE THIS IDEA- And you're too kind tysm ;-;

Warnings: Child abandonment (Circle of life scenario), Reader unknowingly eats weed raw, Reader gets chased, Reader accidentally knocks themself out, Kidnapping, Reader gets tied up, Reader just has a lot of oopsie-daisies in general, Obsessive, Possessive, Delusional and Ignorant behavior

“***” means POV swap! Gonna try these out in this story.

Growing up, you never thought about the day you had to “leave the nest.” Sure, it was a thing that your species did, but you never thought about it too much. …Until you hit a certain age.

You still remember it all. The rain was pouring down hard and making you shiver. You called out to your parent, whining about wanting to return home, but they pressed forward and expected you to follow. So you did. You walked for hours, feet getting covered in mud and feeling icky. The two of you reached some black river with white dots in the middle, going in a perfectly straight line.

Your parent turned to you, said that you were old enough to take care of yourself, that you weren’t allowed to come back, and that they wished you well. They left you there. You tried to follow them, tried to track their scent, tried begging and pleading and calling, but you never found them. Somehow, you managed to find the black river again, and you followed it.

You followed it for a long time, only stopping during the day so you wouldn’t be seen. At night you stuck to the shadows, trying not to get scared when one of the husks roared past you, bright yellow eyes lighting up the darkness for a few moments. The smell it left behind was always awful. You lost count of the days, and at one point you thought you came across a forest fire, only to find that it was the sunlight reflecting on several somethings in tall structures.

You know now that the “black river” is called a road, and that the weird loud husks humans travel in are called “cars.” You’ve grown used to the smells and the loud noises. You’ve also learned that living in human environments got you free food since the morons just threw the stuff out. Like, come on, why would you dump an edible “burger” over some pickles? Just take ‘em out!

Hiding your appearance, on the other hand, was harder. Your horns were coming in and from what you’ve seen, humans don’t have those, or naturally brightly colored irises and star-like pupils. …Or tails. Or pointed ears. Just your luck, though! Some guy forgot to lock the backdoor into the mall, and the shops you “borrowed” from were out of the cameras’ view.

Finding a home was hard, too. It took a lot of trial and error, but you eventually found a good spot in an abandoned building after scaring a few squatters. They even left their blankets and strange leaves behind. You found out the hard way that those leaves are not good for you, especially after coughing them back up out the window. But hey, it’s all trial and error. Just like your parent said it would be.

You’re comfortable, living in the abandoned home with ratty blankets and a mattress. Sneaking around the city after dark to snack on the unwanted leftovers thrown in trash cans. “Borrowing” shiny things off of people while they weren’t looking. Like that one guy’s watch, or that girl’s bracelet. Or some kid’s fidget ring. You even have a few things called “wallets.” Humans make interesting things, you’ve come to find.

Like money.

Money, you’ve come to find, makes it so you don’t have to dig wasted food out of the garbage. You’ve managed to get some new clothes as well, which was a relief because your horns are very noticeable now without a beanie, and they ripped a hole in your old one. You had a hard time throwing it away, but the new one you have is the best thing you’ve ever gotten. You even bought a few things called “pins” to decorate it with.

The issue with money, however, is that it runs out quick, and getting more is harder than getting food. Which brings you back to your collection of empty wallets. You don’t want to go back to digging food out of garbage cans, trying to find scraps that were clean enough to eat. Your blankets are worn to shit, too. So, eating the last of your food and slipping your beloved beanie on, you head out of your abandoned home and into the city.

***

A man in his late twenties enters the shop, and he cheerfully says “Hello” back to the greeter. “What you looking for, Tim?” The greeter asks, recognizing the regular. “Pins,” He replies simply. “I’m getting bored of the ones I have.”

The greeter nods slightly. “Well, we got some new ones recently. Maybe you’ll like one of those.” She offers. The two exchange friendly smiles and Tim heads over to the pin basket, giving it a once over before starting to dig through it. He plucks out a Mothman one. A bit standard, he knows, but it’s adorable and Tim likes it so that’s that.

Tim plucks out a few more monster pins and a few goofy animal ones, like a spider pin with the words “I cry from every eye” printed on it and a duck with a knife. Satisfied with his haul that only costs around fifteen bucks, Tim looks up and spots the best thing he’s ever seen in his entire life. It’s just a keychain with a ghost plush, but it’s probably the cutest thing he’s ever seen in his life and he needs it. It even has a little smile on its face. A smile. It’s so precious and tiny and he just wants to hold it in his palms and dub it “Bartholomew the First.”

So he feels less alone.

Tim frowns at the sudden thought. Yeah, he’s a loner. Yes, he has friends, but they’re more work buddies and classmates than anything. He’d like to get a pet, something funky like a ferret or a rat or a lizard. But no, his landlord says no pets, so no pets for Tim. He’s always been sympathetic to others, having a lot of love to give but no one close to share it with. People from the past always found him odd because of it, but never told him why. Never told him what to do instead.

He knows he’s not alone. Most people want someone to care about them, and most people want someone to care for. Because no one really wants to be alone. Especially not him. So why does everyone treat him funny? How can he make it better? The kids don't think he's weird. They love it when he babysits. Please just-

Tim’s snapped out of his thoughts when he feels something slip out of his back pocket. A teen wearing a beanie with a rabid possum and “peace was never an option” duck pin on it quickly leaves the store, brushing past him. It takes him a few seconds, but he puts two and two together and rushes over to the greeter.

“Kathy hold onto these please some brat just took my money,” Tim says in a rush, shoving the items into her hands before booking it out of the shop. Kathy stands there, a bit stunned and processing what just happened. With a sigh, she heads over to the register and buys the pins and keychain.

“Don’t you already have that one?” One of her coworkers asks, squinting at the spider pin.

“I’m buying it for Tim. Some kid just took his wallet.” Kathy explains, blushing slightly at the teasing glance her coworker gives her.

***

This guy is stubborn. So stubborn, it’s scary. Scarier than that one wolf that would not stop chasing you after you got too close to its pups. It was an accident and you wish your parent was here to charge through the street and intercept the damn guy who’s still chasing you. Like they did with the wolf.

You know your parent had some love for you because they listened to your screams and begs and let the poor thing go. They also immediately scolded you for the whole thing afterward. Reckless, stupid little joey, poking around where they shouldn’t be. Just go back home and stay there. Food will come, I’ll bring some back.

Running away from the threat is harder, too. Especially when you have to shove and weave past hordes of people who are either really slow or just aren’t paying attention. It feels suffocating. Claustrophobic. You can’t get out and you can’t take a moment to breathe. You can’t give this up though, you need it.

I wish you were still here. I wish things were different. I wish I could’ve stayed.

Without a second thought, you round the corner and scramble up the old fire escape, throwing yourself through the open dirtied window and tumbling into your blankets. Safe, safe, safe, your mind chants. You’re safe. You lost him. You got your money, so you won’t need to get your hands dirty. You pull your beanie off of your head. It was starting to feel uncomfortable on your head and make your horns ache.

There’s a clang outside, and a few muffled curses. Wait. What. What? You immediately stand up, pocketing the “borrowed” wallet. A familiar scent wafts into your nose- sweat and palm leaves. Funny for a guy who’s a regular at the most “teenage angst” store you’ve ever been in. The man from before hops through the window and dusts himself off. His gaze screams murder as he looks up at you.

…Only to fall the moment he spots your odd eyes and horns that are starting to curl.

Okay. Okay. Stay calm. The dude managed to track you home. He’s a human- he’s weaker. He has no defense. Do what your parent taught you.

Like a stag, you take a defensive stance and show off your horns. Don’t wanna get hit with these. They’ll hurt really bad. Go away, please. Wait- please? No! Go away now!

You expect the guy to get the memo and leave.

Instead, he coos at you.

***

Tim was wrong. The creature was the most cutest, precious thing he’s ever seen. “Awwwww, look’t you!” He coos, relaxing and taking a friendly stance. “Wait hold on- no, this could be a cosplay. This is a cosplay, isn’t-”

He yelps as the creature charges, narrowly moving out of the way. Its horns slam into the wall and when it pulls away, there’s a noticeable dent and cracks in it. The beast grunts, teeth flashing in a snarl. Fangs with some flat teeth. Its tail slips out of its hiding place and lashes angrily.

Tim kneels, holding his hand out and trying to How To Train Your Dragon his way out of this. “Hey buddy, it’s alright. I just need my wallet back. Can I have it, please?” He asks sweetly, making a small motion with his hand. "We can talk about this. I can help."

Tim frowns when it hisses at him, an idea blooming in his head. When the monster charges again, he moves to the side and wraps his arms around them. “Easy, easy, aw…it’s alright. Shhhh…”

“LET ME GO!” The creature screams, making him pause. It can speak? It sounds young, too. Tim glances around the room, taking in the empty bags of chips and other generally bad stuff that kids eat without a second thought. He notices the ratty blankets and worn, moldy mattress on a broken bedframe.

“...How old are you?” Tim asks, tone full of pity. He winces when he feels claws dig and scratch at his arms, but doesn’t let go. “Ow- hey, it’s okay, I can help you. Let me help you.” The creature doesn’t give up, continuing to struggle. He feels his grip slipping, and he has to take several steps back.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa- hey, chill out-!”

The creature breaks free and slams into a wall.

***

When you wake up you know you’re not in your home. It doesn’t smell rancid and there are soft, silky textures brushing against you. Your head in resting on something soft and fluffy. The smell of palm trees is everywhere, and the world seems brighter. The noise is still there, though.

Outside, a car’s horn goes off repeatedly, resulting in you shifting around and trying to bury your head in the soft object.

…Your hands are bound. So are your legs. The softness rubs against you. It’s a new sensation, one you aren’t used to. The smell gets stronger and you start to panic. So, like any scared joey, you start to call out for your parent.

“I’m coming, I’m coming!” You hear the man call. You hear him head over and enter the room, immediately joining your side. He starts to rub your back gently, shushing you. Stop it- stop it- you try to protest but he interrupts you. “I know, I know. It’s all new and confusing. But it’s okay! I’ll take care of you now. Don’t worry, I know you’re not a pet. You’re…uh…well, I don’t know, but you’re a person.”

“Oh, don’t cry, it’s okay. I’m helping. I had to tie you up ‘cause I didn’t want you to hurt yourself again! It’ll be okay, I promise. No more of that nasty stuff for you.”

“I know you’re scared, but look at it this way! You’re not alone anymore! And now I’m not alone either. I wanna guess you’re…what? Seventeen? Y’know, most humans think you’re an adult when you hit eighteen, but I think twenty-one is more reasonable. No “teen” in “twenty-one,” is there?”

I was actually thinking of this while writing the werewolf story! And I gave “Dad” a name this time. Speaking of which, I feel like giving the other guys names. Is there a way to vote on it or something? I want to hear your guys’s ideas

I will definitely add onto this as well.

You're looking spectacular today! Drink water! Eat something that isn't chips! SLEEP!

#yandere #platonic #platonic yandere #yandere imagines #platonic yandere imagine #monster reader #yandere dad #yandad #yandere platonic #yan imagine #dad yandere

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crepuscularious · 6 months

Text

mad

theres something that gets me inspired by songs lmao

ofc, by the title its inspired by ne-yo's mad which is trending in tiktok and is giving me so much memories LMADKDJALD

sorry if my miguel isnt really canon lol, i just think he'd be more open and shit with his s/o than his co-workers lol

miguel x reader angst to fluff (duhh)

"i dont wanna go to bed (mad at you)"

arguments with miguel are... something

the both of you are stubborn, you dont want to loose the fight but he just wants to understand the whole story (which is impossible with his spanish accents)

"i've told you a thousand times, i was out late because of work! you know how i have to be in certain places in certain plans as spiderman!" miguel exclaims, youve heard this before...

"and i said, that's not what lyla told me, miguel! why cant you just tell me the truth!?" you replied, almost yelling at your significant other.

"why can't you just believe me? besides, you aren't my mom, i don't have to tell you about my whereabouts every time." he says and you start to give him the look

"excuse me!? so me wanting to know where my boyfriend is possessive now? what, i can't care whether or not you're safe?"you replied

"you know the consequences of dating me, (y/n). if you cant handle that then maybe we shouldnt have even met" he said which was supposed to be in a jokingly matter, but he looks at you and his heart just shatters

the look of hurt and unease plastered on your face, you look down staring at the floor. trying to hide those glossy eyes, tears begging to be released...

"i- wait-" miguel tries to stop you but you were already on the way to your shared room with your boyfriend.

"why did he say such words, is he starting to regret asking me out? am i not enough? was i the one wrong in the argument?" thoughts that circled around your head as you silently cried, hugging the pillow and hiding your sobs.

you didn't know what to do, you were starting to slightly panic. whats gonna happen next, whats he going to do to you, are you two gonna brea-

"mi vida" a voice behind the door says "can i come in, please?"

no, say no. dont give in

"mhm" you hummed silently, but enough for miguel to hear. he opens the door, seeing you in a fetus position like a baby made his heart beat a little bit too much. he goes to your side of the bed and tucks the stray hair hiding your crying face behind your ear

"lo siento, mi amor... i never and will never, mean any of the words i had said. i love you too much, and i dont regret a thing. ever since the day we met, today and forever, amor." he says as he kisses your forehead and apologizes non-stop

"forgive me, please? i cant sleep knowing you're mad at me"

end

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xcerizex · 6 months

Text

How obvious it is when they like you.

When the boys likes someone who has a tendency to overthink. Imagine if you meet them irl fr. You're not going to be certain that they actually like you unlike in the game and when they start flirting with you, you start getting super paranoid for some reason. Like some of us don't suffer the same thing. 💀

Alkaid:

Your first impression of him is that he's generally nice to everyone, you see. After several rounds flustered panic attacks, you gave him a nickname.

"Central air conditioner"

(This basically refers to a person who's nice to everyone)

This is when you first meet of course, so it left you flustered whenever he'd say or do anything sweet.

Sometimes you'd spend one hour during class just... overthinking about it. Trying to crush those rose-colored glasses.

You tell yourself that he's just being really friendly, like the same way he's always helping someone out.

It's evident seeing how many teddy bears he's gifted on a daily basis lmao

It's only after seeing the obvious difference between how he treats you and others when he comes in strong, do you consider his actions as him being romantically interested in you.

That's when it starts being really obvious. Like, really, really obvious.

(Psst, Halloween event.)

Ayn:

It's pretty obvious.

Man won't take one foot out his house no matter how much anyone begs him to but the moment you invite him out for something silly he's at the door calling you slow.

Not exactly but you get my point.

A good thing about his blunt attitude is that it leaves little room for doubt. You don't have to think so much when interpreting his actions and words.

And you know you mean something special to him when he makes both small and big exceptions for you the way he wouldn't do for anyone else.

(Princess Day event)

In short, there's a lot less confusion because he's more forward in expressing his interest in you.

Like, whenever he'd tease you in a flirting manner on rare occasions, your brain starts to shortcircuit and it takes a few minutes for you to understand that he's doing it because he sees you in a romantic way before your face turns red.

He teases you for that too.

Lars:

I'd say it's more obvious than not, especially after you spend more time with him. Doesn't mean you don't get confused.

He was playful when you first met him so you never really took him seriously. Especially when you see the way other girls react when they're around him.

Not that you thought of him as a player of course, not at all. You always thought it was just his character. In fact, you found it sweet how he's always trying to support your dreams.

His support makes you wonder however. Sure he could just be interested in supporting a future artist, but sometimes you find his actions and words going beyond a simple sponsor.

It makes your head go around in circles. And it gets a whole lot worse whenever he does something so endearingly sweet, you know it's got nothing to do with business anymore.

It leaves you flushed red when you finally arrive to a proper conclusion after an hour of thinking.

He's going to be the death of you.

Clarence:

Unlike the others, he is less obvious with his affection. He's much more subtle in regards to showing it.

He's extremely attentive when it comes to you and it shows. He'll frequently remind you to take care of your health, offer to grab a small bite for you when you mentioned you've skipped breakfast, and gently reprimands you when you don't take care of yourself enough at times, saying how important your wellbeing is to yourself, and to him.

😵‍💫

These small acts of concern are so sweet it leaves your brain in an overdrive. You chalk it up to him being a responsible, duty-bound Student Council President and stay in denial for a good long while.

Many times you'd just start banging your head in order to not get your hopes up cuz' he's just so damn caring.

It's only when you realize that his care for you is particularly more affectionate and intimate, do you actually start believing that he likes you in a romantic way.

Cael:

Where do I start with this man?

His entire existence is cryptic puzzle, his feeling are not gonna be any easier to pinpoint lmfao.

He's your guardian so naturally it's going to be harder for you to see him in a romantic light.

He could literally say "I love you" and you'd think internally;

'As a dad?'

💀

No wonder this man's not a LI until like, the third world lol.

While I wouldn't say it isn't obvious, his character makes it hard to discern his true feelings.

As time passes and if he's willing to accept his own feelings, his romantic affection for you becomes more apparent. It doesn't show, you just feel it.

It makes you wonder if you're being delusional. Sometimes you'd throw your pillow across the room whenever you started thinking about it. You'd call it absurd the moment you start believing that, maybe, just maybe, Cael sees you in a romantic way.

You're screaming into the sheets again. This is not going to be resolved anytime soon.

BONUS

William:

This is for that one William fan. Forgive me if he may seem OOC 🙏.

Oh, you get very confused.

William's the friendliest person on the block so it takes awhile for you to realize you mean something special to him.

Another "central air conditioner" ig?

Whenever he would go out of his way to help you, you tell yourself it's nothing special. That he would do the same for anyone because that's just how he is.

But one time you told him you'd fallen sick over text, literally ten minutes later he shows up at your door all sweaty with bags of medicine lined up on his arms because he forgot to ask what sort of sickness you had.

You spend the rest of your sick day mulling over if that meant anything because you literally cannot fathom if this was something he'd do for anyone else.

He does a lot of big things for the people he likes, but if it's for someone where it's beyond a simple friendship, you start to notice the smaller details in his actions.

It leaves your heart in a flurry and your mind in tangled threads. His actions however, are not bold enough to stop your thoughts from running the mile.

But trust me when I say that his feelings are more obvious to you than they are to himself.

So until he realizes his own feelings, you're both stuck. But once he does, he'll go all out to show you just how special you are to him.

#lovebrush chronicles #for all time #this is not me being dense #its being ✨self-deprecating✨#i genuinely hope i did them justice #especially William

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cherylmaso · 1 year

Text

how to get a grip and write soap non cringeworthy (by a glaswegian lass)

this may or may not be half a rant. but. okay. okay. i made a post like this before, but i kinda wanted to detail it a little more as i've seen posts like these popping up, but made by english people.

so i'm gonna make one about being scottish for non scots and how to more accurately portray soap as scottish. this is probably mostly aimed at people from tiktok, so feel free to share it around. this is also educational as well as light-hearted and is meant to be taken as such, don't get offended or just be fr

1.) okay, i'm gonna start off by saying... some of these unintentional(or intentional) stereotypes are fucking mind blowing. i'm not one to necessarily get offended by things like this, but i think it's worth mentioning. not all of us play bagpipes, or run around wearing kilts... or - for the love of god - RUN AROUND SCREAMING "SCOTLAND FOREVER." honestly..... it's so odd? i know you would be heavily offended if i called you a fat american, but really what's the difference?

(also the scotland forever is so cringe. i've never in my entire life heard anyone from this country say that)

2.) since i don't think there's any canon of where soap was specifically brought up in scotland(city-wise), i'll have to go off accents and his voice actor for this point. which is alright with me, because scottish accents can be very easily identified.

a lot like the english, scottish people can have MANY varying accents, and a lot of varying phrases. for example, someone down in ayrshire might say "i ken" instead of "i know" whereas people from glasgow usually wouldn't. you catch me?

...now, soap. soap would not go around saying certain phrases. from what i hear, he sounds glaswegian/edinburgh, which is east/west of scotland. the tiniest... TINIEST... bit of research will unveil a plethora of things that people from there would actually say.

aye/yes, naw/no, cannae/cant, could'nae/couldn't, fizzy drink/soda, how/why(this one is weird)..... that's an extremely small portion but you get the point. the scots talk EXTREMELY different than americans do, we have new words for almost everything.

and, before i lose my mind, PLEASE STOP HAVING SOAP REFER TO HIS MOTHER AS MOM. thank you.

3.) the general cringe. i've literally seen people say he would refer to himself as a big scotty boy. no one in scottish history has ever referred to themselves as that unironically. ever. again, circling back to the similarities between the english and scottish, we both have very sarcastic/edgy/cynical humour. ours won't be the same as the americans. our definition of sarcasm differs from yours. headcanons are fine, sometimes, but it's so out of character most of the time if you aren't from the country. bro would NOT spend his free time listening to lana del rey but don't let that stop you from saying he would LMAO

4.) we don't call ourselves british. i mean, some of us do(if yer a bastartin tory x), but most of us will literally get offended if you call us british. we'd all just much rather call ourselves scottish. don't ask me why.

5.) also! please educate yourself on how to properly use scottish slang. the amount of things that just genuinely do not make sense is appalling. it takes two seconds. also my dms are always open... feel free to ask a literal glaswegian lass. context also matters. if you don't know what you mean, just shut the fuck up x

6.) ...he wouldn't be a tory. none of them would be fucking tories. none of them would be sad about the queen. i know americans can't comprehend we don't actually worship the queen in britain, but considering they all probably grew up in some form of poverty or just a bad household, they just wouldn't be tories. or they literally wouldn't care.

7.) props to codie for this point. circling back to the stereotypes, i think it's MENTAL to see what you guys think are "funny" and "relatable" when really, you're absolutely perpetrating harmful scottish stereotypes. ha ha you are so funny when you make jokes about soap being really aggressive and a "gremlin" and an alcoholic and ahahha scotland forever and ahahahha he has bagpipes as his alarm clock... sorry but it's really not as funny as you think it is. like, there's a line and a lot of the time all you cunts online love crossing it with your poorly written headcanons and tiktok videos. i think a lot of you deserve to be told that it's not okay. i know you would all cry if we done the same and also it's just kinda embarrassing

8.) learn our culture but don't forget theres so much more to it. this isn't even primarily about scotland culture but more so british culture as a whole. it's completely different from any other culture and it's also not super hard to do your research. kinda hard to explain if you're not part of it but yk what i mean. sometimes it's obvious to me that you guys don't care to educate yourself and don't care to understand different cultures but i appreciate those that do lol

9.) where soap is from, he wouldn't speak gaelic either. i'm sorry, he just wouldn't. not really a thing in big cities. it's scots he would speak, and there's a difference. don't say they're the same things or you """prefer""" to call gaelic scots. yes someone actually said that LMFAOO. scottish gaelic isn't just saying aye and naw either. jesus fuckign christ x if you don't understand the difference or what you're even saying then just don't say anything LMAO

that's all for now. i'll probably randomly think of other stuff to add, but for now it's currently 5am and i cba. sorry if theres mistakes/typos, again, cba x

also if u get offended u need to get a grip and this is obvs aimed at u. ok have a good day pookie bears xx

(i promise i don't have a problem with americans but it's funny how it's always you guys)

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squirmhoney · 11 months

Note

No no no! I’m the dingle that didn’t read that carefully Lmao! Can I request 10 & 11 for our boy Aemond? 🥰 💖💖💖

Drabble Event: "Lemme hear you bunny." x Aemond Targaryen

A/N: Here is the link for number 10 with Aemond. Hope you enjoy this one as well. Warnings: Masturbation. Video sex. Smut. 18+ WC: 600+

Being away from you for so long had been driving Aemond to the brink of insanity. Every time he thought of you, every time your name popped up on his phone, he found himself missing you even more. He couldn't even remember how long he had been without you. A couple of weeks? Enough to make his cock spring in his pants every time he scrolled through photos of you, finding it impossible to scroll through the explicit album of you two.

Even the videos of you bouncing up and down on his dick, like the good bunny you were, wasn't enough to sedate him anymore. Before he knew it his fingers were tapping against your name in his phone.

You didn't answer in the first few rings, most likely the time difference but Aemond knew you would answer eventually. He still grew impatient as his hand yanked his joggers and boxers down his legs, releasing himself from the confinement.

On the last ring you answered, a dull lamp lighting up your tired face as you squinted at the camera. You seem panicked as you spoke, eyes widening at the sight of Aemond. "What's wrong my love?"

"I miss you," Aemond admitted, voice weaker than he liked it to be. But he was in dire need of your attention and if he sounded pathetic, he really couldn't care less.

"It's three in the morning here, Aemond," you sighed, fluttering your eyelashes properly open.

"I really miss you," his voice come out hoarse and needy.

There was no mistaking his intentions now and he had no way of hiding it. His mind was racing with elicit thoughts from just seeing your tired face tucked up in your shared bed. He couldn't help but remember how he'd wake you in the middle of the night with his dock buried inside of you or even the times where he fucked you till you passed out on the bed and he used you like some fuck doll to finish himself off.

"Please, bunny," he pleaded, he flipped the camera round on his phone to show you how hard he was. His hand wrapped around his shaft, thumb grazing over the reddened tip that leaked with pre cum. "I really need you right now."

"Fuck," you drooled out at the sight of him, biting on your bottom lip. It wasn't long before you found your hands in between your night shorts, rubbing soft circles into your clit. "What do you want from me, Aem?"

"I want you to touch yourself and pretend it's me," he commanded, tone becoming stern as he directed you. "Can you do that for me?"

"Yes," you let out in a breathless sigh, fingers working a little faster against your clit. You weren't even shocked at how wet you became for him in the matter of minutes, hearing his voice making your body ache with a desperation you had never felt before.

Within seconds Aemond was fisting his cock harshly, pretending it was your dainty hands instead of his rough ones. He's not even trying to keep himself quiet as he groans and grunts at the thought of you, only finding it annoying as it becomes the only sound he hears in his room.

"Lemme hear you bunny," Aemond demands, "I really need to hear you."

That's all it takes for you to stop holding back your moans, whimpering his name as you rubbed your clit harsher than before. You tried to keep your eyes focused on him, watching the way his lips parted slightly every time you moaned his name in a certain way.

"That's my good bunny, just like that."

It wasn't long before his cum was spurting all over his hands, covering the top of his stomach. All he can think, as he lies breathless on the phone, is how he wishes you were next to him, licking up the mess you had caused off of his stomach. But for now the image of your face as it countered and the sound of your high pitched moaning would have to suffice. To get him through these last few more days of being separated from you. Then he could finally have you exactly how he wanted.

#aemond targaryen smut #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen imagine #squirmsdrabbleevent

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lovelyiida · 6 months

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what if pro hero bkg is in a relationship with a reader and she later confesses to him that she is a villain and has been tasked with seducing him but she fell for him fr?? how would he react?

❥: when I go through my asks I always circle back and read this one. And whoever you are out there; I’m finally gonna do it lmao. I think I gave this ask a more poetic adaptation so it may not be the best when it comes to getting straight to the point so I apologize in advance :D

FEM READER X BAKUGO, SEMI-VULGAR LANG (mentions intimate body parts), NO PROOF READ!!

traitor, nymphoid, huntress, cold-hearted, ruthless, calculated.

that’s who you were, and you were never told you were anything else. You had a role within society; kill or be killed. And you decided to kill.

Seven months you’ve been killing, killing ever so slowly—ever so softly.

Kill him with a dagger, kill him with a gun, kill him within an injection. No, kill him with something unexpected…something beyond his own comprehension.

Kill him with love.

You knew he’d be easy to obtain, a young pro-hero experienced within every aspect of heroism. Except for his birth-given right; love.

But where you knew he lacked, you once flourished. A villain isn’t born, a villain is created by the villainy of society.

Sweetheart, caring, selfless, sensual, beautiful, smart…

These words that he called you; foreign to your own being sent shivers down your spine. With every word uttered a piece of you is reformed.

The way his eyes sparkle when his looks into yours. The way his smile grows as he hangs on to your every word. The way the slightest touches sends a spark through your every being.

The way your souls dance within every moment you’re together.

When was the last time you actually danced?

A hidden compassion? All behind closed doors. A connection no one else can see, no one else can know, no one else can understand. A connect you’re willing to give away your life for.

What about killing him? Yearning to end him? Yearning for revenge? Yearning for victory?

Why do you feel so foreign? Why do you yearn to give the deepest parts of your soul to him?

Do you even believe if you showed the real you to him; he would give you his soul in return?

Your souls cannot dance any longer, so why do you yearn for them to merge?

Why do you yearn for him?

Tears, regret, shame, anger, heartbreak…

“So what? What we had wasn’t real?” The young hero looks at you. Eyes glossed in anger as he pried answers from you.

“It was everything I thought it would be” you said, eyes dull; emotionless. You watch as the blonde shifts back into the metal seat. A heartbroken scowl trying not to emerge in front of you, he won’t give you that satisfaction.

“But, it was nothing I could’ve prepared myself for.”

You sat before him, dirty, wounded, defeated, and uncovered. The league of villains were unsuccessful with a certain phase of the plan, and decided to throw you under the bus.

They knew you were the easiest to dispose of, the most weak-minded, the most-likely to break.

Taking a deep breath, you try to look into his eyes but you cower at the sheer thought of an attempt. “Bakugo, what we had didn’t matter to me, you were just a quota with a dick.”

Looking up at him, with a shit-eating grin you pose your best poker face. The blonde was reationless. Slowly standing up; his movements were calculated.

Turning off the camera with ease, he stands and looks into your eyes. A face of disappointment and longing.

“Dispatch—videotape 009 clear” Bakugo shouts out to the air. An “All clear,” sounded off with a loud buzz.

Looking down, you jolt as the iron cuffs slipped from your wrists. The hero then grabs you with force and leads you out the door.

Leading you underground, he then throws you into your cell with force. Huffing out a groan in pain you scurry to the bars.

Eyes filled with tears and lip quivering, you look into his eyes. “Katsuki—“

“Katsuki? You have no right” he scoffed, turning his back to you he begins to walk away.

Frantic, you yell out his name once more. “Katsuki, I love you! I mean that!” You cried. Stopping in his tracks, he turns to look at you once more.

Eyes cold, calculated, evil.

“I gave you a chance in there to prove yourself and you didn’t, y/n.”

“You’re dead to me.”

❥: @xo-evangeline , @nar00 , @king-dynamight , @gold24fish , @lovra974 , @bakugospartner , @gaby-11 , @akqsa-xxi , @jolynegf , @goldenglow149 , @aliruuiz , @zukowantshishonourback , @ilovedenk-i , @atsushiki , @smolbeanzzz , @lem-hhn , @stevenknightmarc , @ryumiii , @idontevenknowlolls , @lyn07 , @kennshifts , @ackerman-suck-3-r , @elegantvoids , @thecurlyhairedgoddess , @sunyrose , @thisbicc , @thekookiecorner , @snxwycloud , @skylardarling

#mha headcanons #lovelyiida #mha imagines #mha x reader #bnha x reader #mha #bnha headcanons #bnha insert #mha fanfiction #bakugo x reader

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im--never--happy · 10 months

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I really fundamentally cannot understand how and why the avatar fandom has been sleeping on Mako. Especially with all the Zuko love. People love an angsty sad boi who just wants to do the right thing. And by god if that is not Mako I don’t know what is. Like. Mako as a character is soooo fucking angstable. So much angst potential right there. But fandom just collectively ignores him (or else hates on him for no fucking reason). Is he perfect? Of course not, but Zuko is so insanely far from perfect and all of Zuko’s wrongdoings so far surpass any of Mako’s. Yet fandom easily forgives Zuko, resident sad boi, for his actual fucking crimes (kyoshi village didn’t burn itself down, Song’s ostrich horse didn’t steal itself, Sparky Sparky Boom—I mean Combustion Man didn’t hire himself—lmao) in favor of focusing on his trauma and angst (don’t get me wrong I am an absolute slut for angst and complex nuanced discussions of trauma in fictional characters, and Zuko is such an amazing vessel for my insatiable thirst for angst. But. SO!! IS!!! MAKO!!!!!). But Mako doesn’t get that treatment. He’s vilified for his significantly less bad mistakes. And it makes no actual fucking sense. Because he is so primed for angst and he has insane amounts of trauma. And he’s so sweet. He just loves the people in his circle so fucking much, he just wants to do right by them, he just wants to protect them and keep them safe, and also fucking save the goddamn world. Jfc. He’s sooo GOOD. And the crazy thing is that he’d actually be a better fit for a lot of the specific angst and character traits people want to project onto Zuko that actually aren’t in line with Zuko’s character. Like when people write how Zuko is so humble and doesn’t think he deserves anything and is so intrinsically kind and patient and gentle. And that’s just… not canon Zuko at all. Canon Zuko is impatient and loud and shouts and so insanely fucking proud. He was raised a prince thinking he deserved everything because he was royalty. And yes yes so much abuse and lack of self worth and trauma. Yes obviously. But Zuko expects (or at least expected) people to give him things or do things for him because he was royalty. At least at one point. He doesn’t know how to cook or take care of himself or other people, because he’s always had people doing that for him, at least to a certain degree (I’m not saying the ship banishment was luxury but he still absolutely had a crew that did a lot of shit, like cooking and day to day grunt work for him). Whereas Mako IS humble and soft spoken and quiet and gentle. He never raises his voice with bolin and never lashes out in anger. Bolin and Korra say hurtful unfair and unkind shit to him, and he just fucking takes it. He doesn’t shout or throw insults back. He just accepts their anger and criticims and still fights to help and protect them. He is self reliant and raised his younger brother alone since they were both homeless orphans. He can cook. He also doesn’t think he deserves better when people treat him like shit, because he’s always been treated like shit. (Hello self worth self-loathing angst potential galore!!) Mako is everything that a lot of fandom want Zuko to be and he has endless potential for sad boi trauma angsting. But he gets hated for no fucking reason while Zuko gets idolized. And it makes no fucking sense and drives me absolutely fucking nuts

#Wow that was a long rant #Avatar #legend of korra #atla #lok #mako #zuko #atla meta #lok meta #mako meta #Zuko meta #Damn I had a lot of thoughts and feelings on this #Lmao #mako angst #Zuko angst #can someone please just fucking write some goddamn Mako angst #That’s really all I’m asking for #I don’t want to have to write my own fics lmao #Mako lok

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foli-vora · 2 years

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traitor

marcus pike x f!reader

a/n: i dunno where this came from lmao. i haven’t written for marcus in fucking forever and then SLAP. it's a drabble of something i may dive into in the future - i feel like i could make something out of it? i dunno. anyways, enjoy x

word count: 670

warnings: swearing, angsty angst

The chair is unforgiving beneath you, it's comfort lost a good hour or so ago. It's dark and cold, the chill biting at the skin not covered by your shirt and your stomach twists with the need for food but you refrain from making a comment about it. They probably know how uncomfortable you are already - speaking up about it won't solve a thing.

It's not like they'd care.

“Look, I’ve said it once, I’ve said it ten times, I’ll say it another hundred—I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

The man opposite you nods, almost as if expecting your answer. His arms cross tight against his chest and he reclines in his seat, heaving a long drawn out sigh as he does.

Your eyes trace the now-familiar dips and curves of his face, the way his forehead creases with his frown and the thick lensed glasses that slide down his nose.

How long can they keep you here? How long had it been? There were no clocks, no windows... no way to know if the sun had long gone down or if it was still afternoon. Time starts to become distorted the more you think on it - had they come in the morning? Or lunch?

You try not to look at it... at the mirror stretching wall to wall by the side of you. It would hold nothing but your reflection, the smooth surface no doubt untarnished and streak free.

The man hums and your tongue runs along your lips to moisten them, preparing for the words before he even speaks, knowing you were just going to have to repeat everything you've been saying for the last however long and just hope it would eventually take hold in his thick skull.

“Well perhaps Special Agent Pike can help shift that memory of yours a little.”

This is new.

Your brows pull together in confusion, the name circling endlessly in your head like you were meant to know who the hell that is. You were certain you knew no one by that name, especially a fucking fed.

“Who?”

A few minutes pass, and then the door to the room opens, a figure stepping in and closing it softly behind them. Your eyes travel over them, taking in the crisp suit and tidy knot of their tie before roaming their features. Special Agent Pike.

You want to vomit.

The apparent agent takes the spare seat next to the man staring expectantly at you, sliding a thin manila folder onto the smooth table top before his gaze flies up to meet yours. Your heart leaps into your throat and stays there, choking you with the thick, harsh drum of it.

How could he look at you like that? There's nothing. Not a single fucking flicker of emotion. Your tongue runs along your teeth before you bite harshly down on it to distract yourself from the sting of tears burning your eyes.

Not here.

Not now.

And not in front of them.

“Special Agent Pike.” You state slowly, quietly, the words awful and bitter in your mouth.

It's only brief, but you see the shine of something close to remorse flash through his eyes. It does nothing to calm to harsh flood of pain, of fury, beating around your system.

You can’t look at him. You refuse. How dare he? How dare he waltz into your life, take hold of you, your heart - your body, your thoughts, your insecurities, your dreams, your secrets - while knowing who he is? What he is? How could a man be so... so cold?

Every touch, every kiss, every loving whisper… fake. A lie. The realisation feels like acid sliding down your throat, pooling into your stomach and churning relentlessly. It was all nothing. The whispered words he breathed into your skin, the ones he swore against your lips... did they mean nothing? Was it all just nothing?

Sweat slicks your palms and your foot starts to bounce, the handcuffs rattling against the skin of your wrists as your hands lift to cover your mouth. Fuck.

“I want a lawyer.”

everything pp tags: @maievdenoir, @william-butcher, @lv7867, @dihra-vesa, @katronautt, @radiowallet, @the-queen-of-fools, @januarystears, @missminkylove, @beskarprincessjenny, @mswarriorbabe80, @danidrabbles, @sergeantbannerbarnes, @amneris21, @eri16, @absurdthirst, @hnt-escape, @acourtofsnakes, @ezrasbirdie, @mstgsmy, @lovesbiggerthanpride, @coaaster, @sherala007, @kelseyxyeslek, @greeneyedblondie44, @wyn-n-tonic, @you-got-me-starry-eyed, @shirks-all-responsibilities, @withasideofmeg, @harriedandharassed, @andruxx, @buckybarneshairpullingkink, @spideysimpossiblegirl, @prostitute-robot-from-the-future, @tanzthompson, @mad-girl-without-a-box, @hope-for-the-best-98, @fangirl-316, @christina-loves, @jediknight122, @hallway5, @xoxabs88xox, @nicolethered, @churchill356, @massivecolorspygiant, @just-here-for-the-moment, @gracie7209, @pinkie289, @lavenderluna10, @goodgriefitsawildworld, @h-hxgirl, @juletheghoul, @punkerthanpascal, @itswanktime, @karolydulin, @pedrostories, @fabilei, @ghostwiththemostbitch, @omlwhatamidoinghere, @cannedsoupsucks, @chaoticemz, @hows-my-hair, @alexxavicry, @cran-berry-vodka, @deadhumourist, @outercrasis, @thisshipwillsail316, @toxicfrankenstein, @hotchlover, @ew-erin, @mishasminion360, @jitterbugs927, @penelopeimp, @woodland-mist, @pedro-pastel, @spaceserialkiller, @adriiibell, @1andthesame, @elegantduckturtle, @captain-jebi, @magpie-to-the-morning, @sharkbait77, @sleep-tight1, @musings-of-a-rose, @karlawithacapitalk, @woomen23, @frasmotic, @songsformonkeys, @loonymagizoologist, @aynsleywalker, @ruhro7, @bluestuesday, @what-iwish-you-knew, @princess-djarinn, @totallynotastanacc, @girlofchaos, @pjkimrn, @bangaveragewhitewine, @trickstersp8, @rominaszh

marcus pike tags: @pedrohoe04, @evyiione, @androah, @wildmoonflower, @naughtynecromancer, @quica-quica-quica, @stevenmylove, @lawfulgranola, @fuckoffbard, @dins-cyare, @eatommo, @serini-ty, @chaoticevilbakugo

#marcus pike x reader #marcus pike x f!reader #marcus pike x you #marcus pike #pedro pascal x reader #the mentalist fic

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into-the-devildom · 2 years

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Nsfw request!

Mammon accidentally drinks some gold hellfire newt syrup before going to RAD, leaving him extremely horny in class. How does he resolve his problem?

Whatcha Do To Me

18+, minors DNI I will block.

Content Warning: Voyeurism, aphrodisiac, masturbation.wc: 520+

A/N: I cannot stress enough that this is for sure not the first time hes' jerked it in the middle of class. I feel like he gets off to the thought of getting caught like that. Also, comments or (polite) critique is encouraged, as I've never really shared nsft writing before and have no IRL experience lmao

As the first-period class dragged on, Mamon could not focus on the lecture that took place up in the front of the room. Instead, he grew ever more distracted by the tension building within him.

Mammon was no stranger to arousal, ever since you arrived in the Devildom he found himself struggling to maintain composure at times, but this morning was different. This was intense and ever-building, it felt as though his pants would rip apart at the seams.

“Mamms?” You ask, your voice like rain in a drought. He could listen to you all day…

He swallowed dryly, failing to meet your gaze. He couldn’t lose so soon and he knew just what you were up to..

“What’do’ya want.” He said in a strained voice, feeling your gaze on him. He knew deep down he wasn’t strong enough to last all day. His ego made him bet on a losing game…

“Hmm..” You hum with a smirk. It seems that the bet you two had was an easy win after all. See, Mammon and yourself had a bet this morning that he could go an entire day without caving in from the burning desire that Hellfire Newt Syrup fanned within.

It had only been two hours since he consumed it, and now all he can think about is your voice moaning his name, how it feels to be inside you, the look on your face as you orgasm, how you tell him sweet nothings in the moments of passion…

He threw his head back as he tried so hard to get some friction against his throbbing erection from the fabric of his pants.

“All you have to do is ask..” you whisper, bringing your hand to his leg, as you rubbed circles with your thumb on his thigh. Honestly, you were just as eager as him, seeing how flustered he had gotten over the course of the class period was like your own little taste of the syrup.

“Gah..!” He felt all reason cave in. “Please..please give me a command I”m begging you I’m gonna go nuts!” He whined.

You couldn't help but chuckle at how needy the demon had become. “I want my Mammon to take care of himself, right here.” you run your hand over his clothes crotch feeling him shudder with excitement beneath your hand. “Y-yes..” He gasped, as he reached shaking hands beneath the desk to make short work of the prison that confined his aching erection.

“Fuck Mc..” He moans as he takes his hand around his cock, running his thumb over his slit to guide his pre-cum down his shaft.

“Look at whatcha do to me..” His words had come out breathy and hot between his short intakes of air. He would never last like this... it was too exciting. the risk of being caught, how you were sitting there guiding him to his orgasm. He felt his legs shake from the pleasure.

“Look at how cute you are, desperate for release even here. How naughty.” You teased the demon, refusing to move your hand away from his thigh. “If you cum real good for me now, I’ll give you a real treat tonight.”

Your words were all he needed to feel the dam break. His muscles tensed as he pumped himself harshly, feeling himself spill all over his hand. “Please..” He moaned quietly, face red as he took deep breaths. He was almost certain others had heard him. Good...

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ultraintrovertedgryffindor · 1 year

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𝐀 𝐌𝐚𝐧 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 - Steven Grant

this has been sitting in my drafts for months, but i finally got the motivation to finish it lmao. Happy Thanksgiving for those who celebrate! Gobble gobble bitches🦃

Warnings: mentions of The Blip, implied PTSD, a slight sprinkle of angst, and fluff. that's it, I think

word count | 4.3K🤙🏻

You never took the bus. In all your years of living in London, you had only ridden the bus a handful of times. You usually ride your bike most places, especially to work. Eco friendly, your friend called it, not that you really cared. But it just so happens, that your bike was stolen. So, your hand was forced.

You worked at a bookstore, and you liked it well enough. After being Blipped for five years, your parents decided to give you their store, they were getting old and couldn’t take care of it as much as they could before; plus, they thought it would make you happy and get your mind off being dusted out of existence for so long. And it did, to a certain extent. You were happy surrounded by books, but all the years you missed out on was still nagging at the back of your mind. Your therapist said it would get better with time. But other than the feeling that something horrific could happen at any given moment constantly plaguing your mind, you were content with life; but there was one thing still missing.

You weren’t the best at dating, never had been. Every time you thought you found “the one” or just a genuinely good person, they’d come with a serious hamartia that they were hiding, one that you usually would find out a good couple months into a relationship. But then again, you were also very picky as your parents would say, but you just had standards. You’d think living in such a big city would give you a few good options at least. But alas, you were probably doomed to live the rest of your life in solitude.

You didn’t really notice at first, often stuck in your own little world, but you finally realized that you saw the same man on your bus almost every day on your way to work. It wasn’t that big of a deal, if only he wasn’t so handsome. You never considered yourself to be much of a shallow person, knowing that personality is what really counts, but you couldn’t help yourself to gawk when this man wasn’t looking. Maybe it was his shy and disheveled demeanor that intrigued you, or maybe it was that you were being so utterly vain that his strong jawline and dark brown eyes awakened some primal force within you that drew you to him. But considering how horrid you are at making the first move, you’d never know.

Your silly little crush didn’t go away. It didn’t help that your bookstore was right across the street from the museum he worked at. You felt like a stalker, knowing where he worked and eventually learning his name when he forgot to take his name tag off one night. Steven. It suited him. You thought about visiting the museum once, but that would definitely be stalkerish behavior, but anyone was allowed into museums, right? It wouldn’t be weird if he were to visit your bookshop. Then again, if some dude were staring at you every time you got onto the bus and suddenly paid a visit, you would probably call 999.

Yeah, you decided against it.

It wasn’t until one early morning that forced you to confront this crush. Steven entered the bus with dark circles under his eyes, more pronounced than usual. He looked like he could’ve fallen over any given moment, he looked like he hadn’t slept in ages. You tried not to tense up when he took a seat next to you, your heart threatening to beat out of your chest. You prayed you could act like a normal human being until the bus ride was over. But then, almost half way to work, he did something you never would’ve expected. He leaned his head on your shoulder.

Your eyes were practically bulging out of their sockets. It only took a couple seconds to realize that he didn’t do it on purpose, poor thing fell asleep and his head naturally lolled to the side, where your shoulder just so happened to be. You had no idea what to do. Do you wake him up? He’s just a stranger, this is weird and he definitely should not be doing this. But he looked so peaceful, and he did look like he had gotten absolutely no sleep. But would he think it would be weird if he knew you just let him sleep on you? You hoped no one else could see how panicked you looked.

You felt your face heat up as you ultimately decided to let the exhausted man remain situated against your shoulder, the bus ride was almost over anyway. You felt your nails dig into your palms, trying to focus on anything but the warm feeling that radiated throughout your body. As the bus rolled to a stop, you gently nudged the sleeping man until he sat straight up with wide eyes, clearly disoriented. He looked at you in confusion before uttering a quick apology before he made his quick escape from the awkward situation. You didn’t blame him, but you did feel a little embarrassed yourself, even though you probably had no reason to be.

You thought about that bus ride all day, your brain fogged over and distracted from your work, the bells that sounded off any time someone would enter the store being the only reality check that would snap you back from your racing mind. A part of you just wanted to buy another bike, never take the bus ever again, but you knew you wouldn’t be able to afford it, not now at least. Maybe you could just walk all the miles back to your flat…in the dark…without the proper means to protect yourself…yeah, awkward situations were more appealing than the threat of getting jumped in an alleyway.

You hoped Steven wouldn’t be on the nightly bus ride home like he usually was, only occasionally he would work late, but that just wasn’t in the works for you. How lucky. Apparently it was a busy night, people coming and going, it was a Friday to be fair. But there were no empty seats as he boarded the bus, being the last person, only one was empty, one next to you. You felt like a regular old Mary Sue. And you could tell by his expression that he was panicked, clearly not forgetting what happened that morning.

You wore a tight lipped smile as he walked towards you, the bus suddenly moving jolting him a bit forwards with a stumble, but he quickly tried to brush it off with suave. “Uh, is this seat taken?” The man asked timidly, his hand slightly shaking as he pointed to the spot next to you.

Obviously not. “No, go ahead.” You smiled, more genuinely that time, feeling that familiar heat rise up to your face as he settled next to you.

“Cheers.” He nervously smiled back, hugging his satchel close to his chest.

You couldn’t help but smirk as you noticed his eyes already started to droop shut, the man wearing exhaustion like it was second nature. It also made you a little sad. “Hope you get some sleep tonight, maybe you won’t fall asleep on me again in the morning.” You chuckled, not being able to resist teasing him slightly.

“Oh, goodness.” The man cringed at himself, turning to face you with a guilty expression. “I’m so sorry about that, miss. I didn’t mean to-”

“It’s okay!” You cut him off with a giggle. “You don’t have to apologize, I get it. I’m not a morning person either. Sorry if me not waking you up right away was weird, I just didn’t have the heart to when you looked so tired.” If you weren’t blushing already, you most certainly were now.

“Ah, it’s not weird. I appreciate it actually. Your shoulder was very comfortable.”

“Jeez, how awful is your bed if you think this boney shoulder is anywhere close to being comfortable?” You laughed softly, a shy smile stretching across his face. “I’m Y/n, by the way. Thought you should know considering I already know yours.” You gently flicked the name tag that was still pinned to his jacket. “Nice to meet you, Steven.”

The next morning you were greeted with Steven’s smiling face, that nervousness behind it making it more endearing. You didn’t hesitate to take a seat next to him, feeling more confident now that you’ve actually had a conversation with the man. So far, he seemed sweet, shy but sweet. He definitely seemed worth your interest, you wanted to get to know him. Hopefully he felt the same.

“A gift shop-ist? I don’t think that’s a word.” You chuckled. “Why not just a salesperson?”

Steven shrugged. “Doesn’t sound that much more appealing, now, does it? Well, what do you do? Where do you work?”

“I own the bookstore right across the street from the museum. So, I guess that makes me a bookstore-ist.” You giggled at your own joke, Steven letting out a small amused snort making you feel better about it.

“Oh, a bookworm, are you?”

“Yeah, I guess. I’ve always liked reading. The store was my parents, but they passed the baton over to me. I like it.”

“Huh, I’ll have to check it out sometime.”

“And I’ll have to check out the museum. Don’t know much about Egyptian history, but maybe you’ll be my tour guide?”

“If my boss doesn’t get on my arse about it. Well, eh, it doesn't matter. I’ll be happy to take time out of my super busy schedule to teach you all about all the pharaohs and gods and anything else that won’t bore you to death.” He grinned.

“Well, with you teaching me I’m sure I’ll never get bored.” You were thankful the bus finally arrived, the somewhat intense eye contact the two of you shared was getting a bit much for you to handle. “Well, see you later!” You waved as you started to walk to your workplace, Steven replying with a cute little “laters gators.”

It didn’t take too long before you and Steven got close, well, you thought so anyway. The two of you would always sit or stand next to each other on the bus each morning and night. Sometimes, you’d even visit each other’s place of work. You learned each other’s coffee orders, so you’d sometimes surprise each other with coffee. The first time you did it, Steven wore the cutest flustered expression on his face. So far, you two were friendly. Just friendly. You knew you wanted more, you just didn’t know if he felt the same, or even how to bring it up. You’d been out of the game for so long you didn’t even think you remembered how to kiss a person. You didn’t want to embarrass yourself or get rejected, you didn’t know if you could handle that.

Talking to your sibling about it, they just told you to get over the stupid fear and just ask the man out. Of course, it was easy for them to say, they were more outgoing and fearless. For once, you wish you could’ve turned off your introvertedness and anxiety. You got good vibes from Steven, he seemed perfect. Too perfect. And your track record showed that perfect meant they were less than perfect. You were a bit of a pessimist, you hated that about yourself, but it’s probably what had saved you from one too many toxic relationships. On the surface, Steven looked like he’d never even hurt a fly. You wondered what was underneath that timid exterior. But maybe there wasn’t, only time would tell.

It was a cold dreary morning when your feelings started to spiral out of control. You seemed to wake up on the wrong side of the bed, feeling sour for no particular reason. Just one of those days, you supposed. You had trouble hiding your mood on your face, Steven seemed to notice it immediately as soon as you boarded the bus. He had asked you what was the matter, but you just brushed him off by saying the weather dampened your spirit. Later, he had brought you a hot cup of coffee on his break, saying that days like these needed some warmth, which in turn made you feel all warm and fuzzy on the inside. You encouraged him to look around, knowing that he enjoyed reading as well. It was hard to concentrate on working when he was walking about with an awestruck expression, gently running his fingers over the spines of the various books that lined the shelves. “Do you have any books about Egypt?” Steven called out from across the room.

“Yeah, some. On aisle 6, along with other history books.” You pointed out, smiling to yourself as Steven walked to the designated aisle with a skip in his step. He asked about a specific author, wondering if their new book was in stock, clearly anxious to read it. “No, sorry.” You frowned sympathetically after looking it up in inventory. “I can see if it’s available somewhere else?”

Steven shook his head. “That’s alright. Wouldn’t expect it to be anywhere, the author isn't very well known and there's probably not many copies out there. But thanks for looking.”

And that’s when you got the idea. You weren’t good with words, but you loved buying people gifts. When the holidays rolled around, you were an expert at gift giving, you pride yourself on it. Maybe you could express your feelings by buying him this book he wanted so much. It was a bit pricey, being scarce and all, but you could afford it and you wanted to see the smile on Steven’s face, if just for a moment. Before you could think about it any longer, you clicked the purchase button.

And oh man, was it a long anxious wait for the book to arrive. You had to order it from a different country, so obviously it was going to take a while. But you were impatient, and you counted the seconds until you heard the sweet shrill sound of your doorbell ringing, excitement bubbling up in your chest as you opened the door to find the package exactly where you expected to find it. You hoped Steven would be as happy as you were, and you didn’t even want the book for yourself.

You were disappointed when you didn’t see Steven on the bus the next morning. He probably just slept in again. You were so anxious to give the book to him, but then you didn’t see him all day, which was unusual. He usually paid you a visit at least once on his break. Then another day went by…then another. A whole week passed and you started to get worried. He wouldn’t answer your texts or calls, you even went to his work to ask for him but he hadn’t been in. You never pegged him as someone who would just up and disappear. But then again, how could you know that? You were practically just coffee buddies. Guess you got the book for nothing…

It was another week before Steven started showing up again, but you made a point not to even make eye contact with him, not even when he greeted you warmly as he sat next to you like nothing ever happened. From the corner of your eye, you could see his downcast and confused expression and you almost took pity on him. Almost. You probably should’ve seen it coming, there was always some fatal flaw about most people, your blinding crush on Steven made you forget. It was probably for the best, you only would’ve gotten hurt. Terrible timing though, you were at a point where you really needed a friend to talk to.

That constant feeling that something bad was going to happen at any given moment was proved correct. Thankfully, it wasn’t half the universe getting blipped out of existence, but it was almost just as mysterious and frightening. One night, the sky completely changed. It looked like a Van Goph painting, but instead of it making you feel a sense of peace and comfort like viewing the painting normally did, it terrified you. Seeing the sky warp out of focus, it brought on some severe panic attacks. What did this mean? What was happening and what consequences would it have on the world? It plagued your mind. But even after getting Blipped, you never really talked about it with anyone, not even your family. You just kept all these feelings bottled inside, not wanting to burden anyone with your problems. With every new supernatural phenomena, you felt all these feelings begging to come to the surface. You couldn’t have that, you had responsibilities. But with Steven...he seemed like the type of person that you could actually talk to, if it weren’t for him ghosting you. You’d just have to keep it all inside a bit longer.

Stepping off the bus without a word to Steven made you feel hollow, cold without the coffee he usually would bring you as you both make jokes and bitched about the morning weather typically being foggy and/or rainy. It was one of those mornings, and it just made you feel worse. It was also a slow day, barely anyone coming into your store which was unusual, especially on a rainy day. You felt sluggish, not interacting with anyone made you feel like a lifeless zombie. You just wanted a customer, just one. But as soon as Steven walked in, you immediately regretted that sentiment.

You could instantly sense Steven’s nervousness as he walked up to your counter, hands fidgeting with one another and keeping his gaze fixed anywhere but you. “Hiya.” He spoke softly, an unconvincing smile on his lips.

“How can I help you today, sir?” Your bluntness made him blink in shock, obviously not expecting you to be so cold. You were being petty and you hated it, but you couldn’t help yourself. It was an annoying habit to be passive aggressive, and seeing the deepening frown on Steven’s face just made you feel worse.

He sighed. “Look, I-” He stuttered, “I know you’re probably wondering why I disappeared. And I know you might be upset-”

“Might?” You scoffed, biting your lip, trying not to let your emotions get the better of you. “We talked every day, Steven. And then all of a sudden, you’re gone. Without a word or reason why. So, yeah, sorry if I can’t help being a bit upset.” You chuckled bitterly, sighing sadly when you saw him shrinking away from your words. “And…I was worried. I thought that, I guess that I’d never see you again.”

“You were really worried? About me?”

“I mean, yeah. You’re, like, my only friend.” You blushed.

“Oh, wow, really?” He chuckled in disbelief.

“What?”

“Nothing, it’s just…man, you could do so much better than me. I’m just this ball of anxiety. I don’t know how being friends with someone like me could be very nice.”

You frowned, saddened by his lack of self confidence. “Come on, Steven. Don’t be so hard on yourself. But you did seriously worry me. Where did you go? What even happened?” Steven looked up at you with wide eyes, fidgeting with the ends of his jacket. He looked like he was having a conversation with himself, his gaze becoming blank and unfocused, then looking back at you like he had forgotten you were even standing there. It didn’t make you hopeful that you were going to get an answer, and the realization made you deflate with a sigh. “You’re not gonna tell me.” You stated.

Steven gave you a sympathetic frown, his eyes already pleading for forgiveness without having to say anything. “I would, truly, I would. But I’m sorry, I can’t. It’s…complicated.”

You shook your head, trying to ignore your throat tightening and your already stinging eyes. You wore a tight lipped smile, taking a deep breath and meeting his gaze once more. “You don’t have to apologize. You don’t owe me anything, it’s not like you’re my boyfriend or anything.” You chuckled bitterly, quietly excusing yourself to the bathroom before Steven had a chance to say anything else.

You hated crying, for any reason; and you especially didn’t like crying because of someone else, it wasn’t worth it. But you couldn’t stop the tears from flowing as soon as you closed and locked the door to the store’s bathroom. You covered your mouth to muffle the inevitably whimpers and squeaks that escaped your lips. You prayed that Steven couldn’t hear you, if he was even still in the store. Probably not, you felt like you must’ve scared him off. But to your surprise, you froze in place when you saw him still at your register. You quickly noticed the item in his hands and your heart felt like it was going to implode.

Neatly wrapped in Egyptian themed wrapping paper, a sandy white texture decorated with gold hieroglyphics with a simple post-it note on top that read ‘Steven’, the book that you went through hell to get for the man but never ended up giving to him. A desperate attempt to get him to realize your growing feelings for him. The gesture felt silly now, you certainly felt silly as Steven looked at you expectantly. “Sorry, it’s just…it had my name on it.” He explained with a slight stutter. You cursed yourself for not just leaving it at home where it would be safe from prying eyes. Maybe you should’ve chosen a more subtle paper so that it wouldn’t stand out as much as the gold. “I didn’t want to open it without your permission.” Ever the gentleman, huh?

Despite not being in the friendliest mood and still recovering from your quick cry in the bathroom, you shrugged and motioned for him to go ahead and open it. If only he hadn’t found it, then you could’ve just given it away or something and never have to think about it again. That would’ve been easier.

You waited with bated breath as Steven gently unwrapped the gift, careful not to tear the paper too much, as if it cost more than seven pounds. You almost didn’t want to look at him as the actual book started to peek through, the title flashing in white bold font smack dab in the center of the cover. It was only when the wrapping paper was completely off did you steal a glance at Steven’s face.

Your heart pounded as Steven's face immediately lit up with pure happiness, a wide grin spreading across his face and his bright eyes glancing back and forth between you and the book. "It's the book I wanted..." He said in disbelief. "You...bought this for me?" He stuttered.

You shrugged. "Yeah, who else would it be for? There's no one else I know obsessed with Egyptian history."

"You didn't have to do that."

"I wanted to."

There was a deafening silence for a moment where Steven just looked at you with an expression you could only describe as awe, like you just hung the moon and stars and how lucky he must've been to be in your presence. But of course, your insecurities told you that wasn't the case, it would never be that case.

"Thank you..." He whispered, so softly you had to strain to hear it. "This means a lot to me, really. I'll pay you back."

"No." You said immediately. "No, Steven. It was a gift. I didn't get this for you and expected anything in return."

Steven sighed, placing the book down gently on the counter, taking a step closer to you. "Look, I-...I'm not good at not being my awkward self, especially in front of such a beautiful person. I never wanted you to be angry with me. I have a lot of secrets, and I know that doesn't sound like the type of person you'd want to spend your time with. But if you let me...I'd love to take you out. And maybe we could get close enough where I can tell you all those secrets. But I understand if you never wanna talk to me again..."

You were blushing fiercely, your cheeks heating up you could practically feel your blood boiling just beneath your skin. You never expected Steven to be so bold, even though it didn't exactly sound that bold with his stuttering and slight waver in his voice. But it flustered you all the same. You rarely ever met someone and wanted to know all their secrets, but he made it sound so alluring. Tantalizing, like learning more and more about him was some incredible journey you had the opportunity to venture on. Him disappearing for a while and not telling you why was one thing, but you could sense another red flag in that speech of his somewhere. But the way he was looking at you, his pleading eyes, those big brown enchanting eyes that you wanted to get lost in. You didn't have the heart to say anything but yes.

"You really want to go out with me?" You voiced almost breathlessly.

Steven smiled wide. "Of course I do, darling. Since the first time we had a conversation, you made me feel like I could have something in my life other than chaos. You made...you make me feel at peace."

You chuckled bashfully, practically putty in his hands already. "How chaotic could the life of a gift shop-ist be?"

"Go out on a date with me and I'll tell you. What do you say?"

"Yes." You smiled. "I say yes."

jeez, finally took a break from posting only smut lmao. i miss steven, my baby boy🥺

#moon knight #steven grant #steven grant x reader #steven grant x fem!reader #steven grant x f!reader #steven grant imagine #steven grant fanfiction

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legacyshenanigans · 4 months

Text

Questions for OCs

These were in my notes and I'd forgotten about them, can't remember for the life of me who/where I got the questions from, but I wanna do them for the boys 🐍🐺

What’s the maximum amount of time your character can sit still with nothing to do?

Marvolo:

Quite a while, he actually rather enjoys doing NOTHING. it gives him time to just relax his mind.

Rowan:

Not too long, he likes a bit of relaxation, who doesn't? But he gets antsy fairly quickly, he doesn't like staying still, he fidgets a lot.

How easy is it for your character to really laugh?

Marvolo:

Totally depends on what's being said/done. He has quite a dark sense of humour, so anything like that, he finds extremely amusing.

Rowan:

Very easy, Rowan has a very simple and often dumb sense of humour.

How do they put themselves to bed at night (reading, singing, thinking?)

Marvolo:

He often likes to do some reading before he sleeps. Depending on...Activities..Happening before bed 👀

Rowan:

Rowan is the type who will just stay awake until he can't anymore, he'll often just drag himself to his bed, or ANYWHERE comfortable and simply pass the fuck out in seconds.

How easy is it to earn their trust?

Marvolo:

Not very, with the circles he's runs in and the kinda people he meets and sees. He knows how folk can be. Everyone is on their guard at all times, making it hard. But once he does have trust in someone, he keeps those people close.

Rowan:

It's not that easy for Rowan either, He prefers to make some form of emotional bond or a friendship before allowing his trust to people.

How easy is it to earn their mistrust?

Marvolo:

Quite easy depending on what's happend I suppose. Any form of betrayal is an instant trigger for Marvolo. He despises that more than anything, and is rarely forgiving of it.

Rowan:

Slightly more forgiving than Marvolo in many ways, but it's still rather easy to earn his mistrust.

Do they consider laws flexible?

(I think it's obvious that both Marvolo and Rowan don't give a fuck about the law haha)

What triggers nostalgia for them, most often? Do they enjoy that feeling?

Marvolo:

As much as they may argue at times, a standard brotherly relationship obviously, spending time with Ominis doing something they both actually enjoy brings alot of nostalgic feelings from their better times as kids for Marvolo, and yeah, he enjoys it, though he'd never admit it.

Rowan:

Being in nature in general gives Rowan those feelings, out on the hunt, taking a walk in the woods, being in his wolf form prowling around, anything like that really, making things out of stuff like animal parts and woods and what not also triggers this feeling from being taught how to do these things when he was a kid with his parents. He likes the feeling, though it's bittersweet.

What were they told to stop doing most often as a child?

Marvolo:

Annoying Ominis (lol). And disobeying his father.

Rowan:

Worrying about and questioning his potential as a Lycan.

Do they swear?

(All the fuckin time lmao, both of them)

Do they lie? Does it haunt them?

Marvolo:

Marvolo frequently lies about certain things, to protect himself, and those he cares about. It doesn't haunt him.

Rowan:

I mentioned this on the emotions post i did the other day, Rowan lies about silly things mainly, like denying when he's broken something even though its obvious it was him, I wouldn't go as far to say it "haunts him" when he does those things, but he does feel a little guilty lying.

How do they cope with confusion (seek clarification, pretend they understand, etc)?

Marvolo:

Marvolo doesn't like being confused. He'll often just sit there and stare at the person with an irritated frown on his face, waiting for them to explain better.

Rowan:

Rowan seeks clarification. He's often confused, bless his heart haha. "Huh?" "What does that mean?" "What do you mean?" "Dumb it down for me".

What color do they think they look best in? Do they actually look best in that color?

Marvolo:

Black and Greens, and he absolutely suits it.

Rowan:

Red, and he does look rather good in red.

How do they speak? Is what they say usually thought of on the spot, or do they rehearse it in their mind first?

Marvolo:

It's usually on the spot, but he's very good with his words. He has the "gift of the gab" So he's very confident in the words he uses.

Rowan:

Rowan isn't a very good speaker, it's on the spot and mainly blurted out before he has time to think.

Are they easily embarrassed?

Marvolo:

Depends on the situation. Generally? No. But when he's caught during a fragile moment, he does, such as having a cute little moment with MC by other people. He gets a little flustered because that side of him is reserved ONLY for her, and he doesn't really like other people seeing it.

Rowan:

Not really lmao, Rowan is a no shame kinda person, he doesn't get embarrassed often, but talking to someone he really cares about in a romantic way can sometimes make him a little blushy, thus embarrassing him slightly.

What embarrasses them?

(Caught or generally expressing vulnerable feelings, for both)

What is their favorite number?

Marvolo: 6.

Rowan: 15.

How does jealousy manifest itself in them?

(Possessiveness, in both of them)

How does envy manifest itself in them (they take what they want, they become resentful, etc)?

Marvolo:

If someone has something Marvolo wants, he'll take it. He will make sure he gets what he wants.

Rowan:

Mainly complaining and being moody about it haha. It makes him grumpy.

Is sex something that they’re comfortable speaking about?

(Absolutely, neither of them are shy when it comes to the pleasures of sex and talking about it)

What are their thoughts on marriage?

Marvolo:

Never thought he ever would have, until he met MC.

Rowan:

Isn't against it, but he also doesn't really want it for himself.

What is their preferred mode of transportation?

Marvolo:

Floo network, or he disapparates.

Rowan:

To be honest, Rowan just likes a good run (often in wolf form) or walk mainly, if it's somewhere far away though he'll allow Marvolo to disapparate with him but he HATES it lmao.

Do they usually live up to their own ideals?

Marvolo:

Marvolo is confident in pretty much everything he does, and always accomplishes goals, so yeah, I'd say he feels like he's lives up to what he sets out.

Rowan:

Sadly, no. But it's a personal anxiety thing for him. Even if nothing is wrong and he's perfectly fine, and can accomplish things well, he still feels that niggly anxiety telling him it's not good enough.

Who are they the most glad to have met?

Marvolo:

MC. She opened up his world in feelings.

Rowan:

Marvolo, because he gave him sanctuary and friendship when he didn't have anyone or anything for the longest time.

How do they feel about children?

Marvolo:

Open to having his OWN children. But in general most children seem to find Marvolo scary lmao.

Rowan:

Hates kids. They put him on edge.

If someone asked them to explain their sexuality, how would they do so?

Marvolo:

"I like what I like, that's it"

Rowan:

Rowan would say he's Bi.

#rowan the wolf #marvolo gaunt headcanons #marvolo gaunt

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shankschewtoy · 2 years

Note

OKay but... how do you think swapped au would react to a close up or just a semi-revealing of the body part they're attracted to the most from reader-san? [Example is Law liking the hands the most and then it's a close up of them showing off their scythe and how they circle it around, Kid being an ass/boobs man and an unintentional close up of it, etc.] Sorry, I'm just feeling a bit spicy today-

-Sincerely, this blog's simp. 😩♥

a/n - ooooo interesting 👀 I’m happy to do things for my worst gen trio simps 🫡 tysm anon for the request! I’m gonna omit Luffy from this one- just because I don’t think he’d care- I’ll add Zoro instead :)

Warnings ⚠️ - slightly suggestive, daily reminder that I bully angry man ✨, g/n reader

Law

- Law’s a hand man (Kira go away)

- I mean just look at his- he obviously likes hands 💀

- He’s watching one piece, completely normal day, drinking some nice tea, and just relaxing on the couch

- He always loves seeing you on screen! You deserve the entire show’s screen time in his opinion lmao

- His very relaxing moment was interrupted with a closeup of you twirling your scythe around

- Man was mesmerized 😭

- Didn’t blink for a minute

- Your fingers twirling around the large staff so hypnotizingly, the individual muscles in your hands appearing whenever you moved

- Your wrists bending oh so smoothly

- (no I’m not a hand simp I promise 🗿)

- He had to rewind it and watch it again lmao

- man almost dropped his cup of tea 💀

- I don’t think he was able to calm down for a while after that

- He swears to himself, why is he so turned on by a 2D drawing???

- He unconsciously recorded that part to save for later-

- He made absolute certain that no one saw he was watching it over and over again for around 15 minutes (it was a literal fucking 10 second clip)

- Law pls don’t be like Kira

Kid

- he’s an ass and thighs man

- simple kinda guy

- Nothings better than that 💀

- he usually watches one piece as he’s building or tinkering with something

- Today, (since he’s such an extra guy) he was working without a shirt on (the weather fucking sucks I swear-)

- When he looked back up to the screen, he saw you bent over, dodging an attack, the camera seemingly zooming into the thickness of your thighs, your ass sticking out of your tight outfit you were wearing

- He was about to hammer in a nail, and he missed, hitting his own (painted) fingers

- “GOD DAMMIT OW FUCKING-!”

- … kid ur so dumb sometimes 💀

- man couldn’t handle it- he almost broke everything in his house from what he just witnessed

- throughout all of this his pants were way too tight in- you know where

- so yes. He was dying with a boner 👍

- you do unspeakable things to this man lmao

Zoro

- he works out while watching op :)

- he was bench pressing, his phone positioned perfectly above him for him to see

- he’s a complete ass man he’s patriotic about it

- mid-press, you almost fucking sit on camera (these animators are down bad 💀)

- since the phone was right above him it was like you were sitting on his face- and moss head lost it

- he dropped the weight, the bar almost choking him as he struggled to comprehend what the fuck just happened

- he had to roll off the bench to save himself 😭

- he almost died because of you

- Man has such a face sitting obsession

- like it makes him insane just thinking about you sitting on his face

- His hands on your ass cheeks

- holy shit- I need to stop wtf 💀

a/n - I promise I’m not a Zoro simp-

#one piece #one piece x reader #one piece hcs #anime hcs #trafalgar d water law #law x reader #law one piece #roronoa zoro #zoro x reader #eustass kid #kid x y/n #kid x reader #zoro x y/n #zoro one piece #zoro x you

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cyxnidx · 1 year

Note

Heyaaa~ I hope you're doing great today. I just recently read your works and you instantly became one of my favorite writers 🌻 I'm new here in Tumblr so I don't know if I'm requesting the right way here so you can ignore this if I'm going against the rules. Anyway, may I kindly request an angst/comfort about close friends Itto and gn reader?

Reader was in a dark alley and encountered some creeps who wanted to harass them. The creeps asked if the reader has a partner or someone they like and they said yes. Unbeknownst to the reader's knowledge, Itto was just nearby and ready to jump in the scene but stopped when he heard their friend's answer to the creepy guys. He was confused why he suddenly felt heavy about you liking some possibly another guy and became curious about who is it.

On the other hand, the creepy guys are slowly getting closer to the reader and they said "He's an oni so don't come any closer or you'll regret it!" something like that lmao. The creeps didn't believe it for some reason (either they came from another nation or etc. You can insert your own idea 💓)

I'm sorry if this is a bit long TT_TT coz this scenario is a courtesy of my dream this morning 🙈 I woke up on the last part so I didn't get to know Itto's reaction upon that statement and how it will end. I desperately want a closure 😭 Anyway thank you for your time reading this 🌻 Again if I'm going against some rules you can ignore this 💛

SECRETS TO TELL..?

character pairing: itto x gn!reader

genre: angst -> fluff & comfort

summary: having taken a detour to your home, you run into some interesting treasure hoarders.

a/n: you’re doing it correctly :)) & i took this idea and ran with it..hope i did your dream justice, my love <3 (this came out fairly large..) i also switched a dialogue around slightly. not too much !!

“ha! i’ve won again.” you grinned, watching itto throw his head back in despair. you had quite the winning streak in this game of cards you and itto were playing.

“one more round! i’ll beat you, i swear!” the oni protested, warranting a rematch. you could only chuckle at his eagerness. “i would, but it’s getting late out, itto..” you sighed, picking up your bag and jacket.

you watched as he looked up. it did look pretty dark out. probably already past 8. “you have a point..” he said, standing himself. “perhaps we could play tomorrow?” you suggested, watching a smile perk up on his face at the opportunity to spend his time with you.

it almost made you feel a certain kind of special. almost.

“well that’s that. we’ll meet back up here tomorrow afternoon!” he agreed. the two of you hugged, and he watched as you began walking off to take your usual walk back home.

he couldn’t help but fall further in love with you as your skin and the moon made the most graceful combination. he felt like he was blessed to see such a sight.

it almost made him wish you were his already. he’s not quite ready to confess yet. too early, he’d say.

looking down at the ground to pick up the cards, he realized something — they were yours.

“shit.” he mumbled, picking them up hastily and following where he thinks you went, come to find there was a detour due to the overwhelming population of hilichurls and samachurls.

he would’ve offered to help, but he really wanted to get your cards back. he’d hate for you to come out in the cold again. the detour to your home was a bit sketchy though. a dark alleyway, filled with a bunch of junk.

not only that, but he heard your faint yelling in the distance. disappearing into the darkness, he followed your voice.

once he found you, he saw quite average looking treasure hoarders. the type he’d occasionally see roaming inazuma. however, the event transpiring was anything but average..

listening quietly, he watched the scene go down, careful to be ready to shut the situation down if anything gets out of hand.

“what’s someone like you doing out this late? hmm?” one of the men asked, circling around you.

“trying to get home. now would you please-“ you said, walking to leave them there, though being stopped.

“c’mon. we just wanna talk a bit, yeah? let’s get to know one another.” one of them said, smiling with a false sense of innocence.

“mhmm, have anyone you like? eyes on anybody particular?” another asked, hands on his hips. hesitantly nodding, you decided to simply entertain them until they either got bored of you or left an opening for you to escape.

from the sidelines, itto could feel his heart weighing down on him. he almost felt played, if he hadn’t remembered you were best friends., despite the fact that he always winced internally at that label.

“is that so?” he mused, hands behind his back, the other standing beside you. “he anybody important? or rather, wealthy at all? what’s his life like.” the other pressed.

thinking about it, you could somewhat see through the little plan they had. seeing as though they were treasure hoarders, they most likely planned to rob whoever you described.

with the questions you were asked, it was quite easy to tell. ask anybody about anyone they had eyes on, get them to talk about them a bit and have a general idea of their life or habits. once that’s done, they just have to go look for the matching appearance and do their so-called ‘job’.

you couldn’t help but feel his angsty tone press down on you, pressure growing. what if you’d told too much? would it even be right to answer? thinking about it, itto would be able to handle his own. he’s told you many stories before.

“an oni,” you said briefly. “can i go now?” you asked impatiently. you didn’t feel like fighting, not in this cold.

they shook their heads. “not yet. oni’s don’t exist, don’t you know?” the one on the right sighed. “an urban myth at most.”

you were confused until you realized. the use of oni’s would be in scary stories to tell children, and merely considered child’s play. something used to keep kids from going out late.

however, never exactly recognized as an actual creature, let alone being.

the one on your left chuckled. “I’m sure you’ve already caught onto our plan, or so it seems. so, im only gonna say it once,” he sighed, removing his hands from behind his back. grabbing your arm harshly, he pulled you close to whisper in your ear. “give me a name or you’ll regret it.”

pushing him away, you began running only to be tripped and pulled back. hand wrapping around your throat, you struggled as you were held up. “tell me a name.”

falling down, you choked as you saw the man who was once holding you by your throat on the ground, holding his head.

with itto standing over him, broken bottle shards on the ground. the other man came from behind him, though to little to no avail after being backhanded to the floor as well.

looking back at the man on the ground, he’d passed out from what you’d like to think, a concussion. the next thing you saw was the once aggressive oni meeting you eye-to-eye.

he couldn’t help but give you a silly grin. he could never think to be the least bit of aggressive with you.

“itto?” you asked, confused. when did he get here? how long was he there, and what exactly did he hear?

“heya..” he said shyly, what was once silly turned shy and hesitant in an instant. he held the cards up beside his face. “you..left it.” he told you, sliding them beside you. “so uh..” he began, ready to ask the question he’s been so eager to find an answer to. “i’d like to think..you have somethin’ to tell me?”

the two of you sat silently, not knowing how to communicate at the moment.

one second passed.

two.

three.

squeezing your eyes shut you kissed him quickly and turned from him, sitting criss crossed.

you felt yourself blush once you heard him chuckle silently, only to find arms wrap around you lovingly. “i love you too.”

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