#how did they make it even MORE painting-looking

[prael]

Day 6: Revenge Or Fate

IOI/Gugudan Sejeong x male reader smut

words: 5,611 12 Days of Praelmas Masterlist

"What's that look for?" you ask with all the whimsy you can muster. "I only said that I bought your favourite popcorn. Why are you staring at me as if I just got down on one knee and proposed?"

"You did say you'd marry me someday," Sejeong jokes. Then she does that thing she always does when she's nervous—tugging at the lobe of her ear.

You roll your eyes. "Yeah. I mean when we are both in our sixties. When you have become the crazy cat lady and I the bachelor with a penchant for wine and cigarettes. It's not even close to that time yet."

"Why would you be smoking?" Sejeong wrinkles her nose. She knows you can't stand the smell.

"Because I'll be an ageing bachelor, duh," you answer with a dismissive wave of a hand as you sit by her on the couch. She's got her legs curled up against her chest, the way she always does when it's cold outside. You'd know—she's been sitting like that on your couch every winter since the beginning of time.

She lets out the softest of laughs before it quickly dissipates into silence. She's staring across the room, but not really looking at anything. Her face is painted in melancholy. You know her well enough to know that look, and you hate it. Hate everything it represents. You sigh. The first time you saw her like this was back as teenagers, after the dog she grew up with had been hit by a car. It still hurts your chest.

"You've got that look again," you tell her. "Like there's a million and one things in your mind and none of them particularly good."

"I'm okay. Just tired." Sejeong's smile doesn't quite convince you.

"I wasn't going to say anything. I thought you'd tell me if you wanted me to know, but it's been months since you asked me to come over on a Friday night, so something has happened. I haven't seen this much annoyance behind your eyes since the end of Game Of Thrones. What is it?"

"I'm just feeling overwhelmed, that's all. I wish you weren't so observant."

"You should be used to it by now."

Sejeong flashes a half-hearted smile and takes hold of your hand as she used to do when you were kids. You feel guilty for the way your stomach flutters.

"I guess we have always known each other better than anyone else," she admits, her hand still clasped around yours. It's warm and familiar. You feel the urge to push away, but how can you? It would give far too much away. She has always had this effect on you—you could never distance yourself from her warmth. "He's an asshole."

"You don't need to tell me twice," you chuckle. Then: "Tell me what happened."

"I think he might be cheating."

The air escapes from you at once. The way Sejeong said it is so casual, almost as if she'd resigned herself to this fate a long time ago. And here you are, trying your best to keep your anger under control, like always. But not for her sake—rather, for yours. You know where your feelings belong, and they have no place in the situation at hand. Not today, and definitely not ever. You take a deep breath and look her square in the eye.

"What did he do?"

"I shouldn't have mentioned it," she laughs nervously. She doesn't want to put any more weight on your shoulders than she already has, because that's who she is, you suppose. But how can she expect you to ignore it when she looks like a sad dog staring into the rain on someone's front porch?

"We're best friends. I want to hear everything," you insist.

"He's been acting differently lately." Sejeong pauses. "Distant. Like there's something he isn't telling me."

"Do you think there might be?" you ask carefully.

"It's always something with work. Or a friend that really needs him. Or a family member or—fuck. I don't know."

"I'm sorry."

Sejeong sighs and runs a hand through her hair. There are unshed tears in her eyes. This bastard is making her cry. You want to smash something, preferably his head.

"I don't wanna bother you with this shit," she whispers. She sounds exhausted.

"Don't say that," you retort softly, squeezing her hand in yours. It's clammy. "Don't ever say that again."

She gives a curt nod.

"God knows I've told you enough about my romantic misadventures over the years," you joke. Your chest tightens when Sejeong lets out the tiniest of laughs. Maybe you can still make this right, whatever this is. "Misery loves company."

"You know," she begins, pausing to look at you properly. There is something unreadable in her gaze, something that you've never seen before. It makes you hold your breath in anticipation of whatever is to come. "If there's one person I could choose to be miserable with, it would be you."

For a brief second, you forget that time exists.

"Well, I'm very honoured," you reply eventually. There's another pause where you ponder what to say next. Then, simply, because that seems like the easiest answer: "Do you want me to go beat him up?"

Sejeong laughs and punches you in the arm.

"I thought you were a pacifist?"

"Yeah, but exceptions must be made sometimes."

She raises an eyebrow at you. You can't tell what she's thinking. "For me?"

"Yes."

It feels like standing on a cliff. You want nothing more than to jump, to feel freefall in your whole body. The only problem is that you'll most certainly die. The ground below is made of jagged rocks and bad ideas. Yet, here you stand, willing to do anything in the world for the beautiful girl next to you. Even if it means lying broken beyond repair.

Sejeong breaks your trance when she explains, "There's this girl he works with. We had dinner together with some people from their office two weeks ago, and... I don't know. They just seemed off. She kept looking at him. You know that look? The one where they linger on someone just a bit too long."

"So that's what gave it away?"

"Well, that and the rumour. They had a thing before he met me. It's over now, or it was." A single tear rolls down her cheek. She wipes it away quickly, seemingly irritated at herself. You frown. Sejeong has no reason to be ashamed of being hurt. She should be allowed to shed tears, even buckets full if necessary. You wouldn't judge. "At least that's what he said. He promised me it was over. But... God."

You reach forward to wipe the tears from her cheeks. Her lips tremble, so you quickly move your eyes back up. Staring at her lips is dangerous territory.

"You don't deserve this shit," you say resolutely.

Sejeong chuckles sarcastically. "Then why do I keep ending up here?"

That question stings. Not because it's directed at you—it isn't—but rather because you know the answer. Sejeong has been in this kind of position too many times to count. She attracts guys like honey does flies; every single time, with no exceptions. Only the worst seem to make it past the rest. Sejeong gets caught in their deceitful net time and time again, only to inevitably break her heart after months and months of manipulation disguised as devotion.

"Want my honest answer?"

"Yes."

"I think it's because you're the sort of person that believes the best in everyone. And that is a beautiful trait. I love that you do that. I really do. But sometimes..." you trail off, not quite sure how to continue without sounding accusatory.

"Sometimes I get screwed over," Sejeong finishes. You nod in response. "You're right. I guess it's my fault for trusting too easily."

"No," you shake your head. "It's not your fault. That part is absolutely wonderful. It's just..." You're suddenly hesitant. What if Sejeong takes this the wrong way and shuts you out?

"What?" she probes.

"Have you ever heard the expression 'you can't see the tree for the woods'?"

"Sounds stupid."

"It means you can't see what's right in front of your nose," you explain.

Sejeong stares at you for a long time. You think she understands, but it's impossible to know. It would probably be better that way—if she understood and did nothing about it. You aren't supposed to feel this way about her. How many times haven't you imagined what it would be like if things were different? If circumstances were perfect, if her current guy hadn't appeared out of anywhere and swept her off her feet before you'd even realised what was happening.

But that's just your luck.

"Thank you," Sejeong whispers. "Can we, um, watch something? I don't wanna think about this right now."

You let out an awkward cough. "Yeah. Yeah, of course. Do you remember when you forced me to watch Twilight, and I spent the entirety of the movie complaining about how terrible it was?"

"You still watched all of them with me." A tiny grin appears on her face. Thank God.

"That was truly the highest form of torture," you joke. "I hope you brought something better today. Please don't tell me you downloaded another movie about sparkly vampires."

Sejeong punches your arm. "I'll have you know I am extremely cultured nowadays."

"Yeah? Show me then."

A couple of hours pass and everything feels decidedly normal. You rest against the arm of the couch and Sejeong rests against you. You make jokes at the expense of the film as you always do and she laughs that soft, carefree laugh of hers. The credits roll and Sejeong sits up, stretching her limbs like a cat after a nap. You smile at the familiarity of it all. For a moment it doesn't matter what she has—or hasn't—been crying over.

"I'm tired," she says. She blinks slowly as if to prove it to herself. It's quite endearing, actually.

"Yeah?" you ask nonchalantly.

"Will you let me stay here tonight?" Her voice is small, unsure. But why? It's not the first time she has stayed here. This place is practically a second home to her.

"Like you need to ask," you retort lightly as you stand up and look down at her.

She opens her mouth to speak, but that's when her phone rings. When she sees his name flashing across the screen, she visibly freezes. Annoyance seeps into you like acid rain. His nerve—to call at such an hour, and expect her to pick up. Sejeong just watches, almost paralyzed, until eventually, she does pick up.

"Hey," is all she says. The reply is much longer. You can't make out the words he's saying but the tone tells you all you need to know.

"I was going to," Sejeong replies tersely. Silence. Then: "I told you already, I went over to—" Pause. She swallows thickly. "You didn't tell me you were going out." A longer stretch of silence, during which his voice gradually increases in volume. Suddenly Sejeong sits bolt upright. Her eyes grow wide with confusion and disbelief.

"Me!?" She shouts. "He's my best friend! I wouldn't—" Another pause. She takes a deep breath. "No. No, that isn't fair. You can't—"

It sounds like he hangs up. Sejeong doesn't move. Her hands are shaking violently.

"Do I even wanna know?"

"I should go home," she murmurs flatly.

"To him? To the guy who's probably just fucked his co-worker?"

Sejeong turns to glare at you, eyes cold as ice. You immediately regret your words.

"I'm sorry," you quickly amend. "That was uncalled for. It's none of my business. I shouldn't have said that."

"Why?" she asks bluntly. Your heartbeat picks up in a hurry. There's anger in her eyes. Anger that could turn against you so quickly.

"Why what?" you reply defensively.

"Why don't you wanna be with anyone? You've rejected every single person who's tried to get close to you since we were sixteen. There's got to be a reason."

The world grinds to a halt. Time, space, and life itself stop existing for a minute while you consider your options. On the one hand, you could lie; come up with a suitable excuse and maybe she won't push for more. On the other hand, you could simply admit to the truth that's haunted you for years.

You open your mouth. Close it. Fuck.

Sejeong stands up, wading in the silence towards you. You can't help but take a step backwards. In that split second, you're sure she knows—and yet you cannot tell.

"Have you ever loved anyone?" Sejeong demands to know.

Your heartbeat roars in your ears. "I don't understand why you're asking me this," you choke out. A part of you wishes you were back there on the cliff. At least then you could've jumped off of your own accord, with a little dignity left intact.

"I need to know," is all Sejeong says. Her gaze is relentless. You hate it. It makes you want to claw your own skin off—and there are truths under there that you plan to take to the grave.

"Why?"

"Because I need to know if what I'm going to do next is the right thing."

She stands beside you now. On the edge of that cliff, though it's starting to feel more like you're on the roof of your car. Staring up at the stars on some forgotten summer night. The jump seems more like a flight.

"I have," you admit. Somehow it seems easier than to try and fight whatever force is controlling the both of you. It feels strangely liberating.

"But you won't allow yourself to do anything about it." You know her well enough to discern a question from a statement, no matter how carefully she might try to veil them as the latter.

"It's complicated," you say quietly. She's so close to you now that you can hear the hitch in her breath. Why is she pushing this? "Why are you doing this?"

Her eyes flit from yours to your lips, then back again. So quickly. One, two. But you saw it. And your entire body tingles in anticipation. You'll dare move away—not now, not when the leap of faith feels more like a hop.

She doesn't say anything else. One more small step and her body collides with yours. Lips press against lips and suddenly, all thought scatters. Sejeong tangles her fingers through your hair and pulls. A gasp escapes you before you regain control and kiss her properly. It's frantic, rushed. Years of pining bleed out with every touch. You grab her, pull her as close to your body as possible, and lose yourself completely. Something is swelling inside you. A feeling so large and uncontainable that you think your chest is going to explode any second.

It is indescribable.

All of it—the sensation of kissing her, holding her—surpasses description. You're falling from that cliff, but she's holding you, and before you can hit the rocks she's dragging you to the couch and climbing on top of you.

It feels unreal. The entire world disappears as your lips find hers again and again and again. You don't care to question what happens after. This moment is yours, forever branded in your memories, and nothing can take that away from you. Even if it ends here—even if she were to walk away now—it would've been worth it. Completely and irrevocably.

When you finally part to catch your breath, you can't help but stare at her in awe. She's so beautiful. A masterpiece. Your hand moves to her cheek almost automatically. Sejeong lets her head fall against it with a soft sigh.

"Wow," she whispers.

"Yeah," you croak.

"Please don't regret this in the morning." Her voice is so quiet, filled with so much pain, that it breaks your heart. Your own fears are secondary.

"I never could," you breathe. Then you lean in to kiss her again, slower this time, savouring every sensation as if it might be the last. By some miracle she responds eagerly, fingers wrapping around the collar of your shirt as she holds you steady. You have no idea where this leaves the two of you, but you want her closer—now. You reach around and slide your hands under her thighs, pulling gently upwards. She follows your lead, settling against your lap in a way that makes the situation undeniably real.

As you kiss, her hips start moving back and forth. Soft, shallow movements. Little whimpers escape her throat and fall directly into your mouth. Fuck. She moans—actually moans—into the kiss and a violent shiver travels through your whole body. You break away momentarily to look at her face, flushed cheeks and half-lidded eyes staring back at you.

"Do that again," you whisper against her lips.

"Make me," she pants.

The next kiss is searing, open-mouthed, and accompanied by Sejeong grinding her hips against you. Harder now. Unrelenting. Your hands travel up her waist, slipping beneath her blouse to feel warm skin underneath. You feel every tremble of her body when your fingernails drag lightly across her flesh. A gasp—then she leans backwards, with her arms outstretched and clinging behind your neck, to look you dead in the eye as she continues moving her hips against you.

"Sejeong... What are we—"

"Shh."

Your hands snake further up her shirt. Her back arches in response as she grinds down hard, moaning loudly. Your eyes flutter shut briefly to enjoy the sensations—the sounds—coming from her. You force them open once more because you can't miss this show for anything. You push the shirt up and over her chest. Her hands slip from behind your neck momentarily so that you can get the garment over her head. And then she is there before you, bra and sweatpants-clad, panting softly and waiting.

"Sejeong—"

"Fuck me." It is barely more than a whimper, but it rattles the very core of your being.

"What?"

She lunges forward and kisses you forcefully. There are tears in her eyes—tears you didn't notice until now. Her desperation bleeds through.

"Please," she whispers into your mouth, her voice breaking slightly. "Please."

You can't deny her. How could you? You're unfastening the clasp of her bra and your hands are everywhere on her. Pulling her closer, exploring every inch of bare skin you can get your hands on. Her fingers start unbuttoning your shirt—clumsily, but getting the job done. Once open, her nails dig into your bare shoulders, as if testing out whether you're really here, tangible and real. As if you could disappear at any moment and leave her stranded. A loud groan escapes her when your fingers brush against her nipples.

"You're so fucking beautiful," you murmur into her ear. She whines at the words, nails digging deeper into your skin.

The friction between your legs is driving you mad. You've got the burning urge to pick her up and slam her into the nearest wall, but you savour what you have. First, you kiss her neck, then it's a trail down her collarbones. Your teeth nibble playfully at the skin until she moans, begging you to do something. You obey, leaning in to flick your tongue across a nipple before swirling it around the bud. Her fingers fly into your hair and hold you against her breast.

"Holy shit."

Your mouth latches on tighter. Sucking. Biting. The heat pooling between you grows more intense. Eventually, you detach and move on to the next, eliciting more delicious sounds from the girl above you. All those nights spent fantasising about exactly this don't come close to the real experience. You're supporting her, around the waist and the small of her back, while she leans back in your lap, presenting herself to you.

You appreciate every inch of her slender figure. By eye and then by tongue. You draw constellations along her skin, your touch is feather-light. Across her toned stomach to her hips, then right up the side of her body. She throws an arm above her head and giggles lightly as you lick all the way up underneath it. You follow a path to her armpit. Sejeong giggles more when you begin to nibble there too. When you raise your eyes to meet hers she blushes fiercely.

"Weirdo."

"Just appreciating you," you murmur, pressing soft kisses against her shoulder and up to her neck.

"Mm. I like it," she replies hoarsely.

So you spend some time like this. Appreciating her bare body and making her squirm. Kissing, licking, and biting everything that you can possibly reach until her writhing becomes borderline violent. Then she grabs a hold of your jaw, looks you deep in the eyes, and utters the most sinful words you've ever heard her say.

"Enough teasing. I want to ride your cock now."

Every inch of you lights on fire. From your forehead to the tips of your toes, you feel flames lick at your insides. Sejeong climbs off you without another word and starts pushing her sweats from her hips. You watch, spellbound, as she wiggles out of them. Her panties follow suit.

Then she turns to face you. Standing fully nude, absolutely breathtaking in every sense of the word. A goddess. Every bit as perfect as you had imagined. Even your fantasies weren't this good; nowhere near as intoxicating as this moment right now.

"You have ten seconds before I sit on your face instead," she deadpans, you both laugh. At least she hasn't lost her humour.

You unbuckle your belt and shuffle them down as best you can while still seated. Enough that she can reach down and pull your cock free from its confines. Your eyes roll to the back of your skull when she wraps her slim fingers around it. Pumping up and down. You're hard already, unbelievably so, and when she drags her thumb across the head of your dick it actually twitches. You suck in a deep breath, willing yourself to focus.

And then she sits on your lap, sliding along the length of your cock. Fuck. She repeats it a few times. Back and forth, slicking your cock with her wetness.

"I always pictured this," she admits.

"Really?" you croak.

"God yeah, I remember back in college. I must have rubbed one out to you more times than I can count." She smirks at you then—a wicked smirk that makes your entire body shiver. A filthy admission to you and you only. She does it again, drags her wetness along you. How on earth are you supposed to remain composed when she says things like that and does things like this? You wrap an arm around her back and pull her closer, staring at her as if seeing her for the very first time.

"You can't say things like that, I'm gonna—"

She cuts you off with her tongue in your mouth. Kissing you like it's the last thing she'll ever do, and your lips the only form of sustenance she'll ever need. It gives way to her frantic little moan, desperate and unrestrained. For the life of you you can't comprehend what is happening, only react, and fuck if it isn't the most incredible experience you've ever had. Her skin is burning against yours, hungry and yielding to your every touch.

Sejeong shifts slightly and grabs a hold of you properly. Your eyes widen when the tip of your dick brushes against something wet, warm, and soft. The very centre of her. She repositions herself, now holding you carefully against her, and then... slides down the length of your cock, pausing halfway down. The pleasure is so acute that you cannot control the way your back arches off the couch, and neither do you control the profanities that spill out from your lips.

A sinful grin spreads across her face. As her legs are pinned around your waist, you cannot move, but Sejeong certainly can. And boy, does she know how. She starts bouncing herself up and down, riding you so expertly and looking so good doing it. You've thought of this so many times—having sex with your best friend, of all people—but you did not picture it like this.

"This okay?" she murmurs in your ear. You hear the smile in her voice.

You utter the only word you can muster: "Yes."

She laughs airily, placing a kiss on your temple as she continues her rhythm. When she moans—a long, drawn-out moan, half-pained, half-pleasured—and throws her head back, you stare up at her, eyes drinking in the beauty that is in a position so incredibly vulnerable yet completely in control. How you long to capture this moment and keep it somewhere safe forever. She looks down at you now. Her heavy-lidded eyes pin you to your spot as much as the physical manifestation of her pinned against your skin. She traces her fingers down your jaw, your neck, and the top of your chest.

"I wish he could see me now," Sejeong hisses, anguish evident in her voice.

"You look so fucking good."

"He doesn't know what he had," she laughs bitterly. "Fuck him."

"Fuck him," you echo. Sejeong smirks and moves her hips more fluidly. Goddamn. Her tight little cunt feels so perfect clenched around your cock.

She watches your face closely as she keeps riding you. As you keep clutching her hips and help her along, grinding deeper. Groaning when she throws her hips forward faster and faster. Her cunt is so hot and tight. She sucks at the life seeping out of your pulsating cock and squeezes it with her inner muscles in ways that no one has ever done before. Sometimes she pulls completely off you, her breath shuddering as you twitch, only to take you deep inside her again.

Your hands have a mind of their own, sneaking upwards to grip her neck. You give it a gentle squeeze, just enough to get her attention. All the while you're staring intensely into her eyes. They've become glassy, intoxicated, more than just wanting but longing for it. Her voice is hoarse, strained, as she says, "How have I been so stupid? All this time—you're right here, and I never—"

"It doesn't matter. None of that matters."

"You're so—fuck."

Her body trembles and she falls forward onto you. She's gripping your arms, nails sinking into your flesh. Sejeong's breath grows increasingly laboured. After a long string of expletives, she lets her head rest on your shoulder as you snake an arm around her back and support her. Her whole body is rigid, teetering on the edge of an orgasm.

"Never felt this good," she forces the words out amid moans as you buck your hips up into her, picking up the slack as she begins to falter. The rhythm is quick now, urgent, filled with unbridled passion and everything left unspoken for too long.

When Sejeong cums, you feel it all around you—her pussy quivering, leaking her arousal around you, dripping down your thighs and saturating you, almost drowning in the intensity. It makes her moan into the crook of your neck and rock her hips, fucking herself while trying desperately to quiet the sounds of her ecstasy against your body. But that is unthinkable, to silence someone like that, and you tell her so. Whispering the filthiest things in her ear as she throbs around your cock, dragging out the last tremors of pleasure of her orgasm as much as you possibly can. She spills everything out into your shoulder, every word, every whimper. Until at last, you can feel her sagging in your lap, breathing heavily and spent.

"Keep going," she pants, tightening her grip on your arm. "Don't stop."

She throws herself to the side, pulling you with her, and somehow lands flat on her back with your body on top of her. You wince at the sudden shift. But not for long. Because Sejeong opens her legs wide, hooks her calves around your hips, and tells you again not to stop.

You smirk and lean forward, trapping her beneath your body and capturing her lips in a sensual kiss. It is deliberate, lingering. Her arms fly up and tangle themselves through your hair, locking you together. When your tongues meet, you sigh deeply against her. There is a warmth settling over you. Languid, dream-like. Like you're both floating through clouds, carried away by the sweetest of breezes.

There is nowhere else in the world that you would rather be than right here, between her legs.

You rock into her, once, then twice, each time more intense than the last. The angle is entirely different. You grab a hold of one of her legs and hitch it up a bit, allowing yourself to thrust deeper inside her.

"Are you okay?"

"Mm. Move slower. Nice and slow," she instructs.

And you do. Eventually, a hand comes up to cup the nape of your neck. Sejeong stares into your eyes and your breath catches. Then you're kissing, again and again, but there is not so much desperation and anger anymore, but something else. It is the feel of her hips meeting yours, the way you press your bodies together, the softness of her lips and the taste of her mouth. Her breaths rush from her lips to yours, from hers into you.

Sweat starts to bead at your temples as you rock into her. Slow, deep, patient strokes. It is not desperate fucking anymore, or an attempt to pour all of your heartbreak into some meaningless action. It's almost reverential—the way you're holding each other, soft and sure. A sweet torture, a sublime suffering, for as long as time allows.

You don't talk. Your mouths say nothing, at least. With your bodies, however, your fingertips whisper praise against her skin. Spirits float free and serenade each other. Sounds escape her that you haven't even dreamed of. Broken, wanton, as if wrenched out of her. They rise above and meet in a higher plane of reality, where two minds are one.

It takes time. A slow build to the crescendo. You know when you've struck the final note by the way she cries out, over and over again, her pretty little hole convulsing, spasming around your cock. She wants to squirm away but has nowhere to go. You refuse to let her. You smile against her neck and sink your teeth into the skin there.

Soon you follow, groaning her name into the warm flesh. It's a flood—your insides are melting, pouring out from your loins and into her heat, her insides contracting, trapping every ounce inside. Hot, sticky, yours. This feeling. It is as if your heart has grown wings, a phoenix born anew from the ashes of who you used to be. You don't have to be lost anymore. She will carry you, always, her fingernails tracing patterns in your damp skin. There is nothing to fear.

Sejeong whines and moans softly as you fill her. One more careful thrust and you still, collapsing on top of her as the waves subside. All the while she is there, stroking the back of your neck and quietly reciting every piece of filth that she can think of.

You wonder whether this will last longer than the night.

God. Would you be okay with that?

When you eventually move back to look at her, to make sure she's okay, there are tears in her eyes. Uncertainty overwhelms you. Before you can react, before you can ask what is wrong, Sejeong cups your cheek. "Thank you," she whispers, eyes boring into yours with an intensity that takes your breath away. This girl. All these years. All the wasted time. It feels right being with her; everything is finally where it should have been all along.

"You were worth the wait," you breathe. You place a kiss against her brow before rolling off and settling next to her.

"Do you..." Her voice fades. She runs a finger along your collarbone, eyes anywhere but yours. "Do you want this to be a one-time thing?

"No," you answer without hesitation. You catch her hand in yours, entangling your fingers, willing her to understand everything that you're unable to tell her.

Sejeong smiles. Genuine, unapologetic. For the first time in months, she looks happy. Fuck him, indeed. "Good," she says with a soft laugh that evaporates any of her lingering doubts. Her eyes flick to your lips and she whispers, "So, uh, we've got some lost time to make up for."

"Yeah?" you whisper while rolling her back over and climbing over her. "If there's a debt to be paid..." You start trailing kisses down her neck, down her sternum, grinning at the tiny shivers it elicits. "What better time than now?"

Your kisses lead you over her toned stomach. Once you reach the juncture between her thighs, you pick up her leg and set it over your shoulder. Sejeong is already squirming, anticipating what is to come. You take a look at her—mussed hair and flushed cheeks, mouth slightly open, beautiful, tempting. It feels almost gratuitous—that you're able to see her like this. It makes you pull her even closer, and stick your tongue into her center. Her upper body lifts almost immediately and her eyes fly open. A shaky whimper leaves her lips.

She's right. There is a lot of catching up to do. Luckily for her, there's still the whole night ahead of you and a lot more you'd like to show her.

[keepingitformyself]

Hello, how are your day going?? could you please write a fluff natasha x reader where r loves to draw and paint and is very good at it? giving some drawings to nat, doodling on her arm when r is bored, drawing/painting nat thinking she isn't noticing (ofc she does baby is a super spy🤏) and having a sketchbook with a looooot of sketches and drawings of nat. R could try to teach nat how to paint while they have those cute dates where they do a painting of eachother yk? also, idk if you'll want to add that but after i finished Arcane, my dream was to draw Vi's back tatto on someones back, so if you want to maybe r could ask to make it on nat

hope you can understand my ideas, english isn't my first language :/

everything is blank until you draw me

A/N: hello! thank you for requesting. hope you enjoy :))

pairings: natasha romanoff x reader

genre: fluff

warnings: none

please do not repost my work anywhere for any reason at all. if you do see this happen to any of my stories, please let me know. thank you x.

natasha first noticed your quirk on the way home from a mission.

it’s hot in cairo around this time of year. humid, sticky weather. everyone was suffering from mild heat exhaustion, suits were unzipped and shallow breaths were heard among the jet cabin.

it was a taxing mission. the team was silent in a quiet mourning.

but you sat in your seat in a far corner, barely showing any sign of the discomfort everyone else was in.

instead you had your face pushed into a leather bound journal in your lap, a pen in hand. the strokes you were making on the paper were far too wide for you to be writing something down.

no, you were drawing. natasha concluded.

no one else seemed to notice, or if they did, they didn’t care enough to point it out.

natasha didn’t really pay any heed to it. she was more concerned with passing around iv packs to the team, making sure they didn’t pass out.

when she got to you, you immediately closed the journal on your lap. her eyebrow rose at your behavior, but she didn’t question it. there was a boundary that you were entitled to, and she wasn’t one to cross any lines unless she needed to.

you looked up at her expectantly, wordlessly she handed you an iv pack, but you shook your head and pushed her hand away.

“i’m okay.” you said. “my body is good at regulating body temperature.”

natasha didn’t say anything, she already knew this, but call it good camaraderie. though, she tried not to notice the way your hand twitched in your lap, the same hand that covered the journal under it.

“save it for someone who needs it.” you added after a few seconds.

she considered you for a few moments. for the most part you seemed fine, aside from the slight twitch in your hand. she figured you just wanted a moment for yourself so she let you be.

natasha gave a curt nod before continuing on.

the quiet hum of the quinjet was the only thing that could be heard as she moved through the space. natasha had stolen a glance more than twice between you and her task at hand.

she wouldn’t pry but her fascination had grown more as she thought about the way your hands wrapped around the worn journal. how your fingers flicked at the edges of the frayed pages.

later that evening, when the team had finally settled back into the compound and were settled in their sleeping quarters, she found you again.

it was very late into the night. nearly nearing two in the morning.

this time you’d found a small nook by the large windows in the common room, you’d looked off into the night horizon, the pen in your hand making rapid strokes across the paper.

natasha didn’t try to hide her curiosity this time.

“drawing again?” she asked, her voice was soft.

you flinched at her voice and natasha noticed the way your hand tightened around the journal. your mouth opened and closed, as to find the words to ask how she’d noticed your recreation of putting pen to paper.

as if reading your mind natasha spoke up,

“i think you forget that i’m a spy and it’s my job to notice these things, Y/N.” she joked, plopping down on a seat near to you.

you glance down at the book in your hands, a sheepish smile graces your lips.

“it helps me…process.”

natasha tilts her head, elbows resting on her knees as she leans closer.

“can i see?”

you hesitate, but gulp down your nerves and slowly turn the journal towards her. the whole page was filled with dark shadows, lines to imitate the image of smoke, jagged lines to form silhouettes of crumbling buildings, faceless people running, catching their final moments of breath, and of them being carried away with help.

it was haunting, terrifying, but deeply fascinating all the same.

“is this from today?” natasha asked, voice careful.

you nodded. “it sounds weird, but…i remember things when i’m drawing them.” you pause, chewing your lip, “and i don’t want to forget them…not fully. so it’s like i take the weight of it and i trap it here, instead of…”

“…instead of carrying it.” natasha finished for you, her green eyes meet yours with a understanding.

you nodded again, looking down.

“it’s good.” she said after a moment. “you’re really good.”

the faintest smile graces your lips,

“i’ve been drawing since i was kid. but it’s kind of different now…it can be something really nice to look but sometimes it just gets really—”

“dark.” natasha finished again.

you didn’t answer. you didn’t need to. natasha knew exactly what you’d meant.

over the next few weeks, the habit of drawing became something natasha couldn’t ignore.

on long missions, you’d often scribble quietly in a corner. at meeting briefings you’d doodle into the margins of notes. and once, she had sat beside you during a meeting when you’d wordlessly slid your journal towards her.

it was a sketch of her.

she was surprised, there was so much to look at. to unpack. she didn’t know whether to be impressed with how well you drew her or to be impressed with the way you’d captured her.

she didn’t how to place what it was; something vulnerable or strong, or both.

“you drew me.” she said softly.

you shrugged, a soft blush coating your cheeks.

“you’re interesting to draw.”

natasha smirked, she didn’t say anything, but she’d felt a small stir in her chest at your words.

then on you grew more comfortable with your sketches dedicated to your new muse.

it started off small—a simple sketch left on the table one morning before natasha had left for a solo mission. she’d found it tucked under her designated coffee mug. a doodle of a little black widow spider spinning on a web, with cartoonish eyes and a cute little bow on its head.

the detail was impressive, even for a quick piece, and at the bottom you’d written a small note.

thought your namesake could use a makeover. meet widow 2.0: terrifyingly adorable.

come back in one piece.

she smiled at your note, and without a word tucked the small piece of paper into her pocket.

after that, it became sort of a ritual. before a mission, whether it was long or short, you’d leave her something— sometimes a sketch of her infamous batons mid-strike, other times a miniature rendition of the team in cartoonish proportions.

there was one where you’d drawn a mini portrait of natasha smirking, with exaggerated sharp cheekbones and fierce eyes. the caption on it read,

don’t worry, i dialed down the intimidation factor…slightly.

they were ridiculous, but natasha loved it.

one day, natasha approached you in the common area, holding a new doodle you’d slipped into her jacket. it was a small portrait of her, but unlike the others, this one showed her more casual. more real. no weapons, no scowl, just her leaning with her arms crossed, a small smile playing on her lips.

she held it up with a raised brow. “you’ve been busy.”

you glanced up from your journal, a shy grin tugging at the corner of your mouth.

“you noticed.”

“i always notice,” she replied, and the warmth in her tone made your cheeks flush.

“just thought you could use the reminder,” you said, shrugging. “you’re more than just a fighter, you know.”

natasha stared at the drawing for a moment, something unreadable flickering in her expression. then she folded it carefully and slid it into the inside of her jacket pocket.

“thank you,” she said simply, but her voice carried the weight of everything she didn’t say.

other times, you’d hand her sketches directly, usually without ceremony. a scrap of paper passed her way while the team prepped gear, a folded corner of your journal you tore out just before a briefing.

they ranged from serious-battle-ready stances and sharp silhouettes to utterly absurd, like the one of natasha holding a massive sandwich, labeled

big hero energy.

and natasha kept every single one.

“you know you don’t have to keep these, right?” you teased her when you caught her slipping another into the pocket of her duffel bag.

“i want to,” she said without hesitation. “they’re like…good luck.”

you didn’t argue with her logic, but a small smile lingered on your lips as you turned back to your journal.

unbeknownst to you natasha had a growing collection of your sketches tucked away in her bedroom. a small metal tin, the kind where you gift holiday cookies in—where they’re carefully preserved.

she’d look at them sometimes. when nights were long or dark and life was too heavy, she’d pull one out and trace the lines with her fingers, remembering the way you handed it to her with that quiet, knowing smile.

eventually though, your art started to spill over the edges of your journal.

it became part of your rhythm together. a constant, quiet act of trust. but there were moments, especially in the middle of long missions, when you didn’t have your journal or anything to draw with.

it started as a joke.

one night during a stakeout, the boredom and restlessness started bubbling out of you, and you found yourself tapping your fingers against natasha’s arm.

she caught your arm mid-tap and raised and eyebrow.

“no journal today?” she asked, smirking.

“nope,” you replied, frowning as you remembered how much in a rush you were that you forgot your journal. you leaned against the wall with a sigh.

“guess you’ll have to entertain me instead.”

“or,” she said, producing a pen from one of her pockets, “you could make yourself useful.” she handed it to you with a playful glint in her eye.

you hesitated for a moment before taking the pen from her hands and uncapping it.

“don’t complain if i mess it up.” you warned, shifting closer.

“just try not to make me look ridiculous.” she said, but the slight curve of her lips said she didn’t really mind it.

after that drawing on natasha became the norm when under a circumstance that denied you paper.

on long flights you’d trace floral vines curling up her forearm, and she’d be asleep as it happened. and during long nights in safe houses you’d sketch constellations of the stars on the back of her hand.

natasha never washed them off until she really had to.

sometimes, you didn’t even ask anymore. you’d just give her a look and she’d extend her arm towards you, wordlessly inviting you to begin.

and as your pen traced her skin she’d sit still, occasionally glancing down to see the progress.

“what’s this one?” she whispered. you’d drawn a small sleeping wolf, curling under a moonlit sky along her bicep.

“strength.” you replied softly.

natasha didn’t say anything, but her eyes softened in a way that made your heart stutter.

your drawings become more than just a way to pass time. they became a language of their own. a way of grounding yourself, of tethering your anxious thoughts to something steady.

and natasha became part of that steadying force.

“do i ever get to draw on you?” she teased once.

“maybe,” you said leaning back to admire your work. “if you’re good.”

she chuckled, shaking her head. a quiet smile tugging at her lips.

it was a silent agreement between the two of you now. you’d find your solace in the lines you traced along her skin and she’d find hers in letting you.

[nerdlvr]

✩ goons and ghosts.

(MDNI)

smut with sorta plot, 4k+ words , ghost jisung x gooner reader , riding , cowgirl and dogstyle positions , peeping tom jisung , female and male masturbation , dick sucking , deepthroating , a lot of spit , switch jisung , switch reader , jisung's a bold virgin and reader has never nutted , cum swallowing , ur reading ghost smut nothing is accurate , lmk if i missed anything!

making a side note cause idek what happened WE LOST THE PLOT but in the end i am decently satisfied with this work. there are no specified roles in this fic everyone just wants a good fuck ALSO will be uploading a text imagine for this fic because i got so emotionally invested in the character dynamics. okie bye pls enjoy!

.,

jisung didn’t like the would haunt. he didn’t haunt things, he simply resided there. just like how he had been residing in your apartment for the past couple months. did you know of his presence? no. but he was definitely not haunting you.

the first time was an accident... kinda. at first he was more curious about the furry little creature that he saw on your balcony, absentmindedly following it into your apartment.

what a strange creature that thing, it's almost like it could see him. its sharp tiny eyes following his figure as it shimmied through your glass doors. what a fat lump of fur, little bell jingling against its neck, that smug little look on its face and- oh my ghost, what are you doing?

he thinks he's never seen a human this pretty in his short lifetime (deathtime?). your hair was a mess against your sheets, cheeks flushed and eyebrows knit together in concentration as your hands fiddled against your panties.

he watched as the fabric soaked into your heat, pink painted toes curling at the pressure you applied through your soft fingertips. your whiny moans surrounded him, room hot and sticky against his skin.

meow

that thing speaks?

meow

he looked down to the side of your bed as the furball clawed at your sheets, its beady eyes still staring directly at him.

"momu- stop- ugh, what is it?"

you attempted to swat the thing away, frustration building on your face.

"can you- momu what? what is it?"

You huffed as you sat up on your bed, hands slapping your duvet loudly. your eyes darted around the room looking for the source of your cat’s worries.

for a moment he froze in place, not like you could see him, but for some reason he felt like he’d been caught. he watched you hesitantly as your eyes scanned the room.

maybe it was the nerves but he swore that briefly, just briefly, your eyes focused right on where he was, a soft hm coming from your mouth as you relaxed back into your bed.

he was gone before you knew it, there’s no way you could see him, he was just being paranoid.

.

the second time was less of accident. he had been watching a movie with your neighbor, casper the friendly ghost, how fitting. 

the only thing that would make this crappy movie any better was if he could sneak a piece of popcorn, the oblivious idiot probably wouldn’t notice anyway, eyes focused on the bright tv screen. speaking of this idiot, was he blatantly ignoring your obnoxiously loud moans? your voice was practically seeping through the thin walls of his apartment. were you just an inconsiderate neighbor or was it really that good? he had to find out. he wasn’t creeping, he was simply curious.

and that’s how he found himself back in your room watching as you stuffed your pretty pussy full with your small fingers. never had he seen a girl in heat.

your body was gleaming with sweat, clearly having been at this for a while now. you pushed your fingers deeper and deeper, body squirming under the force of your own hands. how did you even manage to fit three fingers in there?

and even though your hole seemed to struggle with the size and your moans grew impossibly louder, you never truly seemed satisfied. you tossed and turned clearly frustrated by your lack of skill. he looked down at his pants, he was much bigger than your flimsy little fingers, if only he could move your hands and-

meow

fucking hell. momu was it? momu fuck off.

you rolled your eyes as you pulled your sticky fingers out of your hole, a loud sigh leaving your lips, “i know momu- momu i know, no ones harming mommy.”

he swore your eyes met his as you spoke to the furball. what did you know exactly? he didn’t give himself time to wonder as he moved back into your neighbors home, at least the idiot was asleep, time to eat his popcorn.

.

the next couple of times weren’t accidents at all. it had become a habit at this point to watch you touch yourself. how could he stop himself when you were practically calling for him? 

there you are sprawled out on your bed, sweet little pussy dripping onto your fresh sheets as you rubbed against your swollen clit. he was sat in his usual spot in the corner of your room, hands gently rubbing at his growing bulge, eyes trained on your body. if only he could touch you, please you how you so desperately wanted to be pleased. he knew he could satisfy you, could fuck the goon out of you. but why would he want this to end?

he wondered how pathetic he must look doing all of this, hand shoved down his pants, cheeks burning bright red as he came undone, embarrassed by his own actions. he only did all this because he knew you couldn’t see him, why would he openly be a peeping pervert?

.,

you in fact could see him. it’s not like you had some crazy superpower, you just could.

originally you had thought he was your neighbor’s sibling. tall, handsome, and dorky, you watched as he blew air into your neighbor’s face while he was getting the mail. you had smiled to yourself, what an annoying little brother. 

but then when you had mentioned it to your neighbor he had replied, “what brother?” strange. as you began to describe the image of the young man you had seen your neighbor only grew more confused. very strange.

maybe it was a misunderstanding. or maybe he was a fucking ghost.

it’s not like you believe in those things or anything, him being a ghost had never even crossed your mind. but as the same dorky man sunk into your room through your wall you thought there was absolutely no other explanation. 

you should’ve screamed, should’ve ran away, called the cops. but you were so close. your legs only squeezed tighter around your hand as you watched him flush at the sight of you, bulge pressing against his jeans. he seemed hesitant, almost scared, as he continued to watch you touch yourself.

he gulped as you rubbed harder against your clothed core, fabric rubbing against your abused clit.

meow

what better cockblocker than your own cat. 

"momu- stop- ugh, what is it?" you swatted at your cat, desperate to continue, "can you- momu what? what is it?"

you knew she was startled by the random man in your house, she was never a fan of new people. but you pretended to not know what was bothering her, looking around your room dumbly. you couldn’t help but steal a quick glance at the ghost, his chest rising and falling nervously like he had been caught. did he know you could see him?

definitely not, since he stumbled out of your room and straight off your balcony. you could practically scream, not only had your high died down, but your handsome hunk of a ghost had abandoned you.

you turned to your cat, “you’re sleeping on the couch tonight.”

.

how to evoke a ghost. okay maybe you were an horny freak, or maybe you were just insane, but you had suffered through countless nights of rubbing at your poor pussy, nothing satisfying you. but that one night that ghost had come into your room you felt like you could actually finish at the sight of him. where were you going to find a tall handsome loser in this day and age, let alone a dead one? okay, maybe you were a horny freak.

you scrolled through the google search results. light some candles and chant a prayer, too spooky. chant its name into a mirror, would it work if you chanted, “tall handsome dork, tall handsome dork, tall handsome dork!” probably not. you should’ve known it was pointless to begin with. you had lost your moment of luck, back to square one. 

you laid back into your soft bed, getting comfortable against your pillows as you began to run your hands over your body. this was just a warm up, goosebumps forming on your skin as you teased your nipples, fingers teasing the skin of your breasts. 

by the time your hands made their way down to your core you were panting softly, body running hot. you had probably been a little too excited to touch yourself, moans louder than usual as your fingers met your clit. holy shit, you squeezed your eyes shut, the image of the stranger ghost filled your head as you prodded at your entrance. one finger, not enough. two fingers, not enough. three fingers, your walls squeezed around your fingers tightly, why wasn’t this enough. 

you moaned loudly, partly in frustration and partly from the feeling of your fingers digging deeper inside of you, the image of the ghost never leaving your mind. you just knew he was bigger than three little fingers of yours.

nevertheless, you put your fingers to work, occasionally bringing your free hand down to rub at your clit. if only, if only he just- 

“fuck.”

your eyes fluttered open as you heard a soft groan coming from the corner of your room. and there he was, watching you touch yourself. you threw your head back on your pillow, body writhing under your touch as you felt his gaze burn your skin. this was good, actually it was more than good, it was great, you felt your walls pulse around your fingers, stomach in knots as you fucked yourself. 

meow

that damn cat. momu fuck off.

you sighed as you pulled your fingers out, attention now on your crying cat, “i know momu- momu i know, no ones harming mommy.”

you turned towards the ghost as you spoke, eyes pleading, please don’t leave. but he was already on his way out, fading into your wall.

.

he liked to watch and you liked to be watched. that’s how things had turned out between you two, you played with yourself for hours and he’d palm himself through his jeans until he came. then you’d get up, take a shower, and when you returned he’d be gone. you were smart enough to lock your door now, momu the cockblocker no longer interrupting. 

this unspoken arrangement between you two was fun, but not enough. hours and hours of rubbing and fucking yourself with your fingers and nothing. you were glad you helped him finish, but you’d never quite reach your own climax, pussy rubbed raw and not even one orgasm. 

if this was any other guy you would’ve called him out by now, selfish prick. but every time you looked over at him he was hunched over in your love seat, cheeks flushed, bangs covering his eyes as he quietly groaned to himself. it’s almost like he was hiding from you. tall man now tiny as he shrunk into himself, biting his hand to silence his loud moans as he spurts cum into his jeans. sometimes you’d catch him staring at you longingly, hands itching to touch you, so why didn’t he?

only you would get stuck with a shy pervert ghost.

.,

8:00 PM. around this time he was usually relaxing on your neighbor’s couch, watching whatever lame movie he had on his watchlist, but tonight your neighbor had gotten lucky, bringing some girl home.

they had been making out since they walked through the door, clothes quickly being removed and thrown around the entrance of his apartment. jisung was quick to slip away, deciding there was no harm in lounging at your place instead. he would much rather listen to your moans anyways.

he took his usual spot on the love seat in the corner of your room, slumping against the soft cushions. he wondered when you’d show up, you usually got horny around 10, so he guessed he’d have to wait for a while, but your arrival came sooner than expected as you walked into your room, lazily scratching at your arm, “oh hi.”

wait what? did you just talk to him?

your body stilled, eyes nervously glancing around the room. oh shit. had you just spoken to him?

he got up quickly from his seat, rushing towards you and waving a hand in your face, “can you see me?” 

you were quick to turn around, walking out of your room and towards your living room. he was early, and you had just spoken to him out of instinct. he was basically living in your house by now, appearing every night, but today he was early and you had forgotten you weren’t supposed to be able to see him. 

he followed after you, voice shaky as he called out for you, “wait- wait can you see me? stop-“

you stopped as you felt his hand reach for your arm. he let out a shocked gasp, “you can feel me too!”

he raised a finger at you as you turned to face him, a bright blush spreading down his neck. “you- you- can see-“ he redirected his finger to himself, “can see me?”

you gave him a quick nod, biting your lip to hide your smile, he was embarrassed, how cute.

“how- how can you- for how long?” his eyebrows knit together in worry, fingers fidgeting with the hem of his shirt.

you contemplated whether or not to tell him the truth, maybe you could save him the shame of being caught red handed, and also benefit by not let him know you’re a weirdo who’s into ghosts. “this is my first time seeing you.”

he squinted his eyes, glaring at you, “you’re lying! if this was your first time seeing me you would’ve been scared! you’re acting like you’ve known me your whole life!”

you chuckled nervously, well now you both had been caught. “okay, maybe, maybe i’ve seen you around somewhere.” 

he paced around your living room, hands gripping at the roots of his hair as he clenched his teeth, “oh my- you know i’ve been watching you! this is so embarrassing! i- i’m leaving this is insane-“

“wait.” you grabbed at his arm before he could disappear, desperation building in your eyes.

he shivered in your grasp. you were touching him, touching him with the same hands you worked against your wet heat, night after night begging for releasee. he felt his pants tighten, head dropping in shame. 

“please don’t leave. i- i need you, don’t leave, please.”

he turned to you, confused. you needed him?

“you- you know better than anyone that i can’t- i can’t- you know.” you ducked your head, now you were the one feeling embarrassed. asking the paranormal to help you cum? top 10 most down bad moments.

“you can’t cum.” he said it so matter of factly that you forgot that he was that one that should be embarrassed. he’s the intruder, he’s the pervert, he’s the- the ghost!

“you want me to help you cum?” forget everything you just thought. yes he was all of those things, but right now, he was the only one that could make you finish, it’s not the time for smart comments.

you nodded slowly, eyes focused on a suddenly interesting speck of dust on the floor.

“use me.” you raised your head, eyes wide as you looked up at him. 

“use me to cum.” jisung hoped you couldn’t hear the nerves in his tone.

okay so remember all that stuff jisung said about how he’d touch you and please you how you deserved, blah blah. well he may have stretched the truth a tiny bit. in his defense he never thought he’d actually get the opportunity to do all those things, and it’s not his fault he's a 22 year old virgin ghost! and now he had a horny freak that was ready to devour him, dragging him into her bedroom. if it wasn’t for his painfully hard cock straining against his jeans he probably would’ve run away, preferring to listen to your neighbor get laid.

,

you were quick to undress, shame leaving you as you felt your body heat up, pussy aching at the thought of finally having the dick you so desperately craved. 

jisung mimicked your movements, undressing and climbing next to you in bed. he sat awkwardly, hands making a weak attempt at covering his length. you kneeled in front of him, arms coming up to collect your hair, tying it up neatly.

he gulped nervously, there it was, that look he knew so well. there was a glint in your eyes, that hungry gaze that meant you only had one thing in mind. an orgasm.

nervous was an understatement, he couldn’t have picked a more normal girl to watch?

,

you were going to eat him whole. he was there, right where you wanted him, and you were finally going to cum. it was just you, his dick, and your insatiable hunger. 

you reached for his hands, moving them away to reveal his hard length. he was long and girthy, tip flushed and leaking. your mouth watered as you reached out to grab his base, a shaky breath leaving his lips. 

he could practically cry as you stuck your tongue out to get a taste of him, rubbing the wet muscle along the head of his length. you parted your lips to surround his tip, sucking lightly. the moan you let out vibrated along his shaft, his shaky hands coming up to grip at you tied hair. 

you relaxed your jaw as you opened your mouth wider to take more of him in, hands moving away from his base to lightly massage his balls. he groaned loudly as you kept lowering yourself on him, nose touching his pubic bone. you were insane.

“holy shit, you fucking slut.”

he pulled you up by your hair, a gasp leaving your lips as oxygen entered your lungs. you looked up at him, eyes glassy, spit pooling in your mouth. he pushed your head back down on him, tip poking at the back of your throat as he bobbed you on him, lewd noises coming from your mouth as you slobbered on his length, spit dripping down to his balls,

“this is what you wanted hm? so desperate, that's why you let me watch you this whole time?”

he lifted you back up, eyes slightly widening at your crazy grin, head struggling to nod as his grip on your hair tightened. he brought his free hand up to wipe your face, spit running down your chin and onto your breasts.

“so fucking dirty, come here.” he pulled you towards his lap, holding you up so you’d hover above his length. he reached down to rub his tip along your folds, collecting your juices.

“look- look at how fucking wet you are- jesus- want me to fuck you that badly, you’re pathetic, you’d let anyone fuck this pussy wouldn’t you?”

you whined loudly, shaking your head, “no- no- just you- fuck- want you so bad, please.” you panted in his grasp, hips rocking against his tip.

“that’s right baby, only i have what this pretty little pussy wants- fuck.” the words died in jisung’s throat as you sank yourself down on his length, wet heat engulfing his length.

“shit shit shit, you’re so big-“ he watched as you threw your head back, hips now sitting flush against his lap.

any confidence jisung had prior to this moment was completely lost. his forehead ached at how tightly his brows knit together, mouth falling open in a silent moan. he was the ghost but your pussy was supernatural. 

his head fell against your breasts as you raised your hips before slamming back down onto him building a slow rhythm.

you gripped his jaw, bringing his face up to look at you, “got nothing to say now huh, dirty pervert, wanted to fuck me so bad.” he nodded into your hand, eyes soft as he stared up at you, “i- i thought i was gonna go crazy, wanted you so bad- fuck-“ you brought your hips flush against him, grinding down hard, his thick cock rubbing against your walls.

he gripped your ass, helping your hips move against his, “please- please use me to cum- want it so bad.” 

you smirked down at him, lifting your hips slowly to slide back down at an angle so the head of his cock would rub against your sweet spot. he watched you as moans erupted from your chest, eyes squeezing tightly as you softly bounced on him.

“such a good boy baby, cock so perfect- oh my-“ your hips fell against his, soft pants warm against his chest as you leaned your forehead on his shoulder.

he reached down to cup your face, “what’s wrong? what happened angel- are you okay?”

worry bloomed in his chest as he looked at your flushed face, tears building in your eyes as you pouted up at him, “i- i can’t- wanna cum so bad- please.” 

oh? you didn’t know how to make yourself cum. “poor baby-“ he kissed your pout softly before lifting you off of him, “good thing i’m here right?” he flipped you around, pushing your head down and pulling your hips up, “let me make you feel good hm?”

you nodded, head rubbing against your messy bedsheets. he slapped his length against your ass, a soft chuckle leaving his lips as you moaned at the feeling, “you’re dirty.” 

he grabbed the base of his cock, pressing into you weeping hole, the new angle making him feel deeper than before, “i love it.” 

that was the last thing said before his hips started to pound against your ass, loud slapping noises filling your room. you pushed your ass back deeper into him, each stroke of his length running along your spasming walls.

he hunched over your body, hand sneaking around your hips to rub your clit, “come on, i know you can do it baby, just relax, i got you.”

you focused on his touches, the way his fingers rolled along you clit, free hand flicking at your hard nipples, his length pulsing inside of you, tip kissing your cervix with each thrust.

then you felt it, that feeling you craved so much, like a pit of fire growing in your stomach, burning you from within, “please- please just like that, keep- keep.” you gripped onto the sheets, tears threatening to spill as you drooled dumbly.

,

in another universe above you, jisung was practically choking. your pussy had grown impossibly tighter, gummy walls suffocating him. if he kept at this he would probably faint. but as he felt your body begin to twitch beneath him he knew he couldn’t stop now. he fucked you like it was his only purpose on this earth, fingers cramping against your clit, but he kept going, he couldn’t stop.

your voice grew louder, a mix of moans and choked sobs leaving your drooling mouth as you wept into the sheets, body curling into itself as you felt the heat from your stomach explode. you gasped for air, toes curling as your body tensed.

you let out a breath you didn't know you were holding,, body melting into the bed, a soft whine leaving your lips as you felt his length slip out of you.

he watched as you wiped at your face, tears staining your cheeks.

did you think this was over? he lifted you slightly, flipping you over on your back before climbing on top of you, legs straddling your chest. you hiccuped as he tapped your cheek with his still hard cock. “suck.” he placed his tip against your lips, moaning softly as you began to suck lightly.

your juices helped his hands slide against his length, his pace fast as he jerked himself off into your mouth. his free hand rubbed your cheek softly, tears wetting his fingertips, “so fucking pretty- look at me- fuck- i’m gonna cum.” 

you looked up at him through your lashes, eyes soft and glassy.  he was huge from this angle, lean body towering over you. his skin was flushed, pink spreading along his chest, bangs sticking to his forehead as he hunched over you.

"i'm-oh fuck-" his hand stilled, squeezing at his base. his mouth hung open in a silent moan, eyes crossing slightly as he spilled into your mouth. you moved your head away slightly as he rubbed some of his cum on your swollen lips.

he let out a loud sigh, tired body falling back onto your bed. he took a deep breath before sitting back up to reach for you, pulling you on top of him.

jisung looked down at you as your body shook against his chest, soft giggles leaving your lips, “i- i just had sex with a ghost! ha! i’m so fucking horny i’ve finally lost my mind!”

you slapped his chest lightly, then again, and again. “what?” he rubbed your back softly, “just wondering if you were actually real or if the gooning got to me.”

he chuckled as you started to giggle again, “you’re fucking insane and that is so fucking hot.”

a professional gooner and a pervert ghost aka a match made in heaven.

.

check out goons and ghosts the text imagine!

[senascoop]

perv bf jake drabble because I'm bored...

You're walking ahead of Jake, hips swaying, as his hungry gaze follows your every step. It doesn't bother you, not really, because you know you're just as perverted in your desires. But he's different. He outpaces your perversions, surpassing them in a single, lustful stride.

His mind starts to wander, drifting between your thighs, imagining an eternity trapped there. For him, it is heaven-the ultimate dream destination. It's in the way his eyes linger, a slight smirk playing on his lips as he loses himself in his fantasies.

You have been noticing recently that the stack of panties in your drawer keeps dwindling. A pair gone here, a set vanished there. You did not bother much with it at first. You must have misplaced them or forgotten them in some drawer or tucked them away in some forgotten corner. But then, he started replacing them.

Every time you discovered the deficit, he'd surprise you with new, better panties. Lacy, silky, or soft cotton—it didn't matter. He spoiled you, indulged your every whim. Such a sweetheart, you thought.

But was he?

There it lay, hidden in the remnants of discarded fabric. How they carried still with your scent, how a hint of musk could be detected from the traces of your arousal. There was the scent of Jake's lust and how he indulged, so twisted and secret.

He was not only replacing the missing pair of panties. He stole them and used them as prizes, jerking into the fabric and painting them with his own release. Your smell, your aroma, becomes some twisted aphrodisiac fueling his darkest fantasies.

He was no sweetheart. He was a thief, a pervert of the highest order. But you couldn't help the thrill that raced down your spine at the thought, the dampness that gathered between your thighs. Because deep down, you knew you wanted him to do it again. And again. And again.

The warm water streamed down your body while your hands caressed every curve of your skin soaped up with soap in the bite marks on the neck, breasts, and inner thighs. Each one remained a reminder of last night's raw passion. You felt the heat of water only make the memories all the more burning, when your body craved just a little more even with the evidence being washed out.

If you hadn't noticed it before, you did now. The little gap in the door from where you saw Jake, who stands across the room, a picture of brazen desire. His hand, hidden within the confines of his jeans, moves with a purposeful, rhythmic motion. It's clear what he's doing, the lewd act concealed but not truly secret. His eyes, once again, betray him.

A guttural, muffled “Fuck” is wrung from his lips, the word lost to the steamy air and the sound of the waterfalls. Even without the audible confirmation, you know him intimately, and his pleasure is as familiar to you as your own reflection.

As he spills himself, his release seeping into the fabric of his boxers, he allows himself a moment of pure, unadulterated bliss. His eyes flutter shut, a look of utter contentment etched onto his handsome face. But it's fleeting.

They snap open, his eyes darting right to you as if by magnet. There, in the small slit in the door, only big enough to be almost an oversight, he can see you. And you can see him seeing you.

His eyes scan your wet body, shameless in their appreciation. They linger on the curves he knows so well, the peaks and valleys sculpted by your natural beauty and the passion you share. His gaze burns a trail from the top of your head down to your toes, pausing at every tempting inch in between.

He gives you a look that's as sheepish as it is lustful. A smile tugs at his lips, crooked and full of mischief. It's the grin of a man who knows he's been caught, but couldn't possibly be more pleased about it.

As he watches, his eyes go to your towel, not blinking, as you start to dry yourself, and he follows the route of the towel with an imagination of how the absorbent fabric would feel on your skin, wishing his hands were there.

He's a sweetheart, in his own twisted, insatiable way. He indulges your every whim, worships your body with a fervor that borders on reverence. But he's also a thief, a pervert, a man consumed by his own dark, lustful desires.

And as you lock eyes through the gap in the door, you realize that you wouldn't have him any other way. His shamelessness is part of what draws you to him, the key ingredient in the recipe of your relationship. 

[immoral-stranger]

𝐀𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐞 (𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮) // 𝐎𝐏𝟖𝟏

𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐋𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝟖. 🧣 “I wanna be alone. Alone with you, does that make sense?” – Billie Eilish, Hostage.

Pairing: Oscar Piastri x reader

Word count: 2.5k

Warnings: General depression, anxiety, and sadness, nothing too specific. No she/her pronouns used so maybe afab or gn reader, but I mention them wearing a bra and putting their hair up. Non-sexual nudity.

A/N: Sometimes you need to let yourself be sad for things to become better. Dedicated to all my depressed homies, hope you're doing okay ♡

Oscar could sense it the second he stepped inside the flat and locked the door behind him. No music playing. No background noise from the TV airing your favourite show. The stillness felt like a vacuum, unsettling in its stark contrast to the usual atmosphere. If he didn’t know you so well, he might’ve thought you weren’t home. But the telltale signs of your presence were undeniable—your shoes neatly placed in the entryway, your coat on its designated hook, and your bag resting on the floor—all painting the domestic picture of two people sharing a home. 

He usually loved coming home at the end of a long day. Even more so when he was away for weeks on end, racing around the world. The flat was modest and cosy, rather than the luxury Monaco seemed to be covered in. It was a testament to the both of you—to your love of vibrant patterns and Oscar’s preference for muted hues. Oscar had made places all around the world his place of living, but he had never felt as at home as he did in the place he now shared with you. 

Yet, tonight it felt hollow. Oscar stood in the entryway for a long moment, adjusting to the surprising quietness. He dropped his keys into the ceramic dish by the door, the clink echoing unnaturally in the silence.

You were home. Oscar knew it. But your silence was deafening. 

Oscar was the opposite of you in many ways—he spoke in measured tones, listened to music through headphones instead of speakers, and navigated social events with an easygoing detachment. He was content in the background. 

You were loud, not in an obnoxious or annoying way, but in the sense that you could always be heard. It was one of the things Oscar had grown to love most about you. You would hum along to songs even if you didn’t know them. You’d laugh so loud and genuinely that tears would run down your cheeks and your stomach would cramp, making strangers turn their heads. You were the light of every party, for everyone to see and enjoy, and it didn’t even look like you were trying. The most bittersweet pain Oscar knew was how his jaw would hurt from smiling at you, whatever it was you were doing. 

That was why your silence was deafening to him and quite telling. It wasn’t the absence of noise; it was the absence of you.

In the beginning, you had tried to hide it from him, saying that you had other plans when he asked to hang out or saying that you were sick and didn’t want him to catch it too, since his job was so important and you didn’t want that on your conscience.

But you never did have plans, and you weren’t sick. At least not in a contagious way. 

Oscar sensed it even then, though he didn’t understand the full scope until you moved in together, when you no longer could hide or lie your way through it. You got sad. That was the simple explanation. You carried the world on your shoulders—of expectations, of ambition, of other people’s happiness—so when it inevitably spilled over, you got sad. 

The kind of sadness that couldn’t be explained or easily understood by others. The kind that showed through your eyes and your actions, dulling your light and silencing your words. Your silence meant sadness, and Oscar hated the way it hollowed out the vibrant person he adored.

Kicking off his own shoes and throwing his belongings on the ground, Oscar then made his way to where he knew you would be, your shared bedroom. The door was ajar, and he paused briefly, his hand resting on the doorframe. Inside, the room was dim, the curtains drawn closed. He could just about make out the shape of you, curled up on the bed. 

“Hey, you okay?” he asked, his voice gentle. 

You didn’t answer. Silence, that was all that existed. 

The sheets were a crumpled cocoon of fabric, but no warmth reached you, like a black hole swallowed any light that seeped through the curtains. You’d had one of those days when even breathing felt like a monumental task, each inhale a reminder of the weight pressing on your chest.

“Can I come in?” 

You remained a dark blob of a body, tangled in the mess of wrinkled white bed sheets, red-eyed and weary. You didn’t have the energy to say yes, but you didn’t need to. He understood.

Quietly, he stepped into the room and closed the door behind him, sealing out the rest of the world. He crossed the floor with deliberate care, as though afraid a sudden movement might shatter you entirely. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he let his presence speak where words couldn’t.

When you still didn’t react, Oscar did the only thing he could think of doing—he crawled into bed next to you, not saying another word. The mattress dipped under his weight, and the warmth of his body gradually reached through the layers of cold that clung to you.

The quiet felt less oppressive, softened by his steady breathing and the faint creak of the bed frame as he settled in. You didn’t move, but you showed no complaints when he wrapped his arms around you, letting you rest upon his chest, the steady sound of his heartbeat under your ear a constant rhythm. 

After what felt like an eternity, you spoke. “I’m okay.” 

Oscar tilted his head toward you, his brow furrowed but his expression still gentle. “No, you’re not. But that’s okay.” 

You swallowed hard, the knot in your throat loosening just slightly. He always had a way of seeing right through the lies you told yourself. You let out a shaky breath, the calming kind to stop tears from falling. 

“Rough day?” he asked. 

“Rough life,” you mumbled. Your eyes stayed fixed on a spot somewhere in the distance, far beyond the four walls of the room. “I should just pull myself together, but I don’t know how. I just turn into such a fucking bother.” 

Oscar shifted, tensing up as his hand reached out to lightly brush your hair back from your face. “Hey,” he said firmly, but not unkindly. “Don’t hide from me. You could never bother me. I want to help and care for you.””

“You shouldn’t have to.” Your voice cracked, and you closed your eyes tightly, a tear slipping out and disappearing into a wet spot on Oscar’s t-shirt. “I should be able to do it myself.”

Oscar let the silence stretch between you for a moment, his thumb tracing slow, soothing circles on your shoulder. “Maybe,” he said at last. “Maybe one day you’ll feel like you can do it yourself. But right now, you don’t have to do it alone. Right now, I’m here for you.”

You didn’t answer. Not that you had to. It wasn’t the easiest of things to talk about, or accept the fact that people around you were kind enough to be supportive. Not all people, but Oscar at least. There was a shame connected to it—of how certain adults just kept on going without stopping and how you had never managed to belong to that group. You still felt like a teenager thrown into a life with responsibilities and expectations far beyond what was possible. 

Accepting weakness, or showing the need for help, never came naturally, but almost always forcefully—when the leaking crack that was your life finally had overflowed the bucket that stood beneath it, catching droplets. 

It was the kind of thing you could overthink into oblivion. What your own personal failures would cost the people around you. How it would affect them in ways you couldn’t directly see. And if this would change their opinion of you, that you really were such a fucking bother. 

Oscar watched you zone out completely, like you’d gone somewhere else momentarily, so far lost in your own thoughts that you weren’t present in the room with him. He brought you out of it with a gentle caress of your cheek, wiping your tears with the pad of his thumb and cradling your jaw to make you look at him. 

“I’m sorry that this ruins your plans,” you said slowly. 

He had forgotten about his plans the moment he got home and could sense your silence. It was some opening of some exhibition that one of McLaren’s sponsors was putting on. It said quite a lot about his feelings about going in the first place—that you were the one to remind him of it and that he probably would’ve forgotten it otherwise. There was no way in hell that he would be going now, to a place where he would be bored out of his mind, when you were at home in this state. 

Oscar lightly shook his head at the thought. “Don’t even think of that. You are my plans now.”

And while it should’ve made you feel chosen and cared for, it also showed the sacrifices he was making just to be with you when you weren’t strong enough to be on your own. 

“Do you want to talk more about why you feel this way?” Oscar’s voice was soft, careful not to disrupt the fragile peace that seemed to linger in the room. He didn’t want to push too hard, but he couldn’t help wanting to reach the parts of you that felt unreachable. “We can talk now, or later, or… not at all if you don’t want to. I just want you to know I’m here to listen.”

You hesitated, your lips parting as though you wanted to speak, but the words didn’t come. Instead, you shifted slightly, curling closer into his chest. You shook your head slightly. “I just… wanna be alone,” you exhaled loudly. “Alone with you, does that make sense?”

“It does,” Oscar replied. “It makes perfect sense.” 

He felt the same in many ways. Whilst your feeling of needing to be alone came from a point of exhaustion, his probably came from introversion. Whatever it stemmed from, it was necessary at times to just be in the place where you felt most comfortable and not question it further. 

“You wanna take a nap and then order some food?” he asked, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips, trying to bring a bit of normalcy to the moment.

“Mhm,” you nodded. “Can we watch a movie too?” 

“Whatever you want,” he agreed, placing a light kiss on your forehead before he shifted, propping himself up slightly. “Come on, let’s get you changed.” 

“Oscar…” you protested weakly.

He stood up from the bed, carefully when placing the comforter back down to not disturb you. With swift movements, like he’d done it times and times before, he picked out your favourite hoodie of his and a pair of pyjama pants that had probably belonged to him too at some point but were now mainly worn by you. 

“I’ve seen you naked a million times before, and I know you can’t sleep in slacks and a button-up,” he explained with a small smile, standing by the side of the bed, a hand reached out for you to grab. 

Reluctantly, you let him help you sit up. Business casual attire wasn’t meant for sleeping. 

Oscar’s movements were gentle, each touch soft and unhurried. He reached for the first button of your shirt, his fingers brushing lightly against your stomach as he worked his way down. Once the shirt slipped off your shoulders, he set it aside carefully to not wrinkle it further. 

“Arms up,” he murmured softly. You obeyed, letting his arms reach around your body to unclasp your bra, pulling it off your chest. His touch was respectful and tender—a way nudity never used to feel like. He then pulled the hoodie over your head, the soft fabric settling around you like a hug.

He reached for the zipper of your trousers, pausing to meet your eyes for permission. You gave him a small nod, and he eased them off, replacing them with the pajama pants he had set aside, tying the drawstring at your waist. The process was intimate in its simplicity. 

When Oscar finished, he reached for a silk scrunchie from the bedside table. You kept them everywhere, to the point where he had one in his bedside drawer. “Let me,” he said softly, gathering your hair with careful hands. He smoothed it back, twisting it into a loose bun that kept it out of your face.

You felt the corners of your lips twitch into the faintest smile. “You’re good at this,” you murmured.

“Because I know you,” Oscar replied with a soft chuckle. “You’re all set now.”

You fell back on the bed somewhat dramatically, letting the covers puff up around you. Oscar got back in next to you, tucking the both of you in, in a cocoon of warmth. His arms cradled your body, his lips lingering briefly in a kiss against your clothed shoulder. “Now, we sleep.”

. . . 

Later, the two of you lay on the couch, a blanket draped over you as the warm glow of the TV illuminated the room. Toy Story played softly in the background, its familiar characters offering a gentle distraction. It was a comfort film, something easy, something that didn’t demand too much from you.

Oscar held you close, his arms wrapped securely around your waist. One of his hands had found its way under the hoodie you were wearing, his fingertips drawing lazy, soothing circles against your back. 

As Buzz Lightyear declared his mission to infinity and beyond, you turned your head slightly to glance at Oscar, your chin resting on his sternum. His face was relaxed, his attention split between the movie and you. It struck you then, how content he seemed just to be here, with you, even after the long day he must have had.

“I love you, no matter what. You know that, right?” he said suddenly, his voice cutting through the hum of the TV.

Your heart clenched, but not in the way it had all day. This was different. It was from the sheer weight of feeling understood and accepted.

“I love you too,” you said, your voice soft. You scooted upward to kiss him gently, mumbling out words between touches. “To infinity and beyond.” 

Oscar chuckled, a sound that warmed the coldest of places. “Cheesy,” he teased lightly, but his eyes told you he wouldn’t have it any other way.

You leaned into him, feeling lighter than you had all day. And as Buzz and Woody’s adventures continued to unfold on the screen, you felt okay. Not entirely, not permanently, but enough to hold onto for now. Enough to gather courage to work through these emotions bit by bit as time went on. 

Thank you for reading! Please let me know what you think ♡

౨ৎ [ main masterlist . taglist . other love letters ]

Taglist: @koko-mei @anamiad00msday @floweringanna @lucyysthings @yelenam5 @firefirevampire @alexxavicry @emails-i-can-send @freyathehuntress

[holylulusworld]

Roll the dice (Prologue)

Summary: You’re in trouble, and it’s all your fault.

Pairing: Mobster!Steve Rogers x fem!Reader

Warnings: mafia au, angst, mentions of criminal activities, mentions of sickness, mentions of stealing, scared reader, bruises

You’re in trouble, and it’s all your fault.

Stealing from your boss wasn’t the smartest move. Even though you had no other choice.

If you hadn’t taken the money from him, your grandmother would’ve died.

She doesn’t have insurance and needed a life-saving surgery. You worked your ass off, juggling three jobs a day, only to not make ends meet.

When the doctor told you they were going to release your grandmother from the hospital to die, you had to do something—anything.

For only a moment, you lost your mind and did something you’d never have done if not for your grandmother. The woman raising you.

“Ah, there she is,” your boss chuckles when his right-hand man, the one everyone calls executioner, drags you inside his office. The man leans back in his expensive chair, legs spread wide as he runs his hands up and down his thighs. “Where did you hide, little runaway?”

You whimper, feeling another bruise form on your arm, joining the ones the executioner painted your body with. His hands are still covered in the blood of the poor motel owner who dared to try to stop him.

“Got her, Steve,” the man chasing you like feral dogs says as he pushes you toward your boss. Steven Grant Rogers. Stone-cold businessman in public, and merciless mafia boss in the shadows. “Tell me if you want me to get rid of the remnants.”

Sniffling, you surrender to faith. They don’t know about the reasons for your betrayal, and your grandmother is safe. An old friend agreed to take her in and care for her. She was always more than a good friend to your granny, and you know, she’ll keep her word.

Rogers rises from his seat to tower over you. He lifts your chin with his index finger to force you to look into your executioner’s eyes. “So, tell me, was it worth it stealing from me? Did you buy shiny things, a car maybe?”

“She didn’t have anything of value with her. Her car is a wreck, and she got kicked out of her apartment. The rat was hiding at the shadiest motel you can imagine.”

“Buck,” your boss nods. “Thank you for the input. Please bring me the box over there.” Steve says, still holding your gaze. He searches your face, enjoying the fear in your eyes and how your lips tremble.

“Got it,” Bucky gets a little black box. Instead of handing it to your boss, he places it in front of you. “I hope you enjoy the last moments of your life, little rat.” He chuckles before leaving the room.

“You know, I’m a player.” Steve flashes you a smile, but it doesn’t reach his cold blue eyes. “Rats like you have two options. You can accept your fate, and I’ll kill you fast, or you can open the box and take whatever punishment you’ll find inside.”

“What?” You furrow your brows. Steve Rogers will kill you either way. There is not a chance he’ll show mercy and let you go.

“I like to play,” he repeats. “I only play with people who didn’t steal from me for themselves or selfish reasons,” Steve smirks when you whimper again. “I know about your grandmother and where I can find her.”

You suck in a breath. “Please, I’ll do anything. Torture me, kill me. I don’t care.” You cry. “She didn’t know. I swear, Granny believes I got a promotion. Please…” You beg and plead.

“Well then, choose the box, and I’ll shelter your grandmother’s life,” he snarls. “If not, she’ll die with you tonight.”

Steve hides that he doesn’t kill grannies. He has standards and rules.

With trembling fingers, you open the box. All that you find is a red dice. It doesn’t look different from the ones you handled at the casino, though.

“Oh, the dice?” He smirks darkly and crouches down to cup your face. “You got lucky, doll. If you get a six, you are free to go.”

“What about the other numbers?” You whisper, afraid to speak louder. “Sir?”

“Every other number means fun for me,” he laughs as you make a face. “Go ahead, doll. Roll the dice.”

You grab the dice and roll it without thinking twice. Holding your breath, you watch it land on…

If you want to read more, we see us in 2025…

Tags in reblog.

[happybunny999]

(Dangerous monster!) Neglected Omnipotent fem reader x Yandere Batfam

Part 1

-

(Your left eye is pink(like your mom) while your right eye is blue(like Bruce) and your eyes turn crimson red when mad)

Your life in the manor is absolutely terrible to say the least the moment you took a step inside the household with your father being nowhere around when you first arrived and how Alfred was the one who showed you to your room-a room that was the most furthest away from your so called ‘family’ who right of the bat didn’t like you and saw you as a parasite and an unwanted person inside their house

Bruce was just never there for you and would just ignore you and give you silent and blank looks and never supported you in any way since the day you arrived at the manor and gave the others more respect,love and affection then he ever did with you 

Dick who payed you no mind and just continue on with his day and when you tried to talk to him he would brush you aside and say “sorry (name) maybe next time” but that time never came

Second was Jason who hated you and would glare when you got to close to him and always call you names and one time when accidentally bumped into him he retaliated by giving you a black eye as blood dripping from your mouth as he walked away from you (you sat in your room for hours crying as your wounds were trying to heal themselves) that day you did your best to stay away from him

Third was Tim and to be honest you never liked him when you first met him when you looked at you with a scowl on his face and dismissed you with a blank expression but you could see the anger and irritation behind his gaze

Stephanie And Cassandra would just Ignore you and pretend you’re not there like you were nothing more then dirt on the wall and when you to talk to them they just tone you out just like the rest of the house

The whole family didn’t care about you and the only person reader trusted more then anyone was Alfred and when they felt comfortable enough around him you decided to show him a little bit of your power and how your eyes can glow red and let’s just say he was surprised and when you begged and made him promise that he wouldn’t tell anyone and he agreed knowing that if anyone in the family were to know of this then it wouldn’t end well at all (Bruce might even lock you in a cell in the bat cave and might try to find away to block out your power too)

For the next couple of years were horrible with you being ignored,glared at,passed by, left out of activities and final looked down upon and it got even worse once Damien the final person to join the family came to stay you had given up at that point with trying to get the family to love you

But Damien was the absolute worst and you hated him the most when you at first tried to talk to him and be friendly with him but he responded with grabbing his sword and giving you a scar across your pink left eye (you had to hold back from using your powers on the family and on Damien when they took his side and you were met with cold glare and disappointed looks as you ran back to your room to cry and scream in your pillow) you had to control your rage around him and stop your eyes from turning crimson red and the way your hands started to glow so you had to keep them in your pockets or behind your back as you quickly make a run back to your room to steady your breathing

You hated them so much you missed your mom and her gentle and loving personality and wised she didn’t have to die that night

You clenched her scarf around your neck and softly cried while holding your unicorn plushie close to you as pink and black hair strings fall from your cloak you wore

I miss her

-

Walking around the manor has always felt cold and lonely like every painting was glare at you and cursing you as you walk by and feeling uncomfortable and uneasy with the silence of the long hallways walking passed the bedrooms and looking outside of Gotham

Your mind preoccupied with thoughts in your head as you held your plushie closer to your chest clenching to it like a lifeline and as you pass by the kitchen you could hear loud talking and laughing as your so called family were having fun as you use your invisibly hide behind the wall listening to them enjoying life without you their indifference to your suffering was fueling your anger but you held it together so you wouldn’t look like a monster to them

So you try and remember your mom’s words about how to stay calm and relax when you feel your powers and emotions trying to take over you but even the thought of your mom made you even sadder then before and hear your family’s happy attitude didn’t help at all

You waited till they all left the kitchen to make yourself visible again and walk towards Alfred cleaning up and looked up at you with a warm smile once he heard you footsteps enter the kitchen

“Good evening master (name) I believed I didn’t hear you come around the corner my apologies” he spoke with a gentle voice since loud ones scare me. I had always had gone to Alfred about my problems and go to him when I remember my mom and cry in his shoulder as he held me close and comforted me

“It’s alright Alfred I just waited till everyone else had left so I could talk to you in private “ you said giving him a small and sad smile as you grabbed a small plate of food and started to eat next to him

After talking to Alfred and finished eating you said goodbye to him and headed back to your room where you stayed for the whole time and was staring to get consumed by your thoughts and feelings about everything but you couldn’t think about that now since had school tomorrow and you were not feeling good about it in fact you hated the thought of it

But there was only one thing that made it better and it was the fact that someone was gonna be there waiting for you



[negrowhat]

Fave Love Scenes of 2024

Still working on the handful of end of year prompts @babyangelsky 's 2024 wrap up. I have one more to do after this one! It's been fun and the more I do these wrap ups the more I see that I really, really didn't watch as many series this year as I thought I did and quite a few didn't keep my attention after they ended the way I thought they would. My attention span is already short and I found it challenging to recall some of these from my challenged memory.

AlanJeff's Final Love Scene from Pit Babe. Oh it left me OBSESSED! It's highkey the scene that turned me into a full-on AlanJeff girlie. It was gentle and passionate and slow and a bit lazy; very in the moment since Alan had just woken up. Loved when Jeff kissed Alan's forehead while Alan kissed his chest. Loved the close-up of their faces pressed together, they looked like a painting. It was a perfect love scene. I need AlanJeff back ASAP.

PhayaTharn Special Ep Love Scene from The Sign. I was going to say the pink scene (lordt knows I love it)...but I feel like we never talked enough about the one from the special ep and I'm sure it's because of how late the special ep was released internationally. Anyways Tharn really thought he was about to leave that bedroom un-fucked on Phaya's watch??? Naw. Hell Naw! He really had that man up against the door. And of course Tharn likes it because he's dreamt about Phaya pressing him up against hard surfaces. And choking, Tharn has dreamt about that too and Phaya knows what his man likes. Tharn looks so pretty even though it's clear he's a bit annoyed I'm sure he enjoyed the dickdown first thing in the AM. BillyBabe are gorgeous together.

Go Young and Young Su Makeup Sex from Love in the Big City. It's toxic. It's hott. It's relatable. It's well shot and well executed. Absolutely love how feral they became in that scene. Big fan of the manhandling and lifting. I doubt that was the first time Young Su had done that with Go Young. I'm sure it was Young Su's 'Go To' to calm Young down. Sometimes some fire dick will make you temporarily calm down and forget your boyfriend is a hot ass mess...more of a hot mess than you are which is actually crazy to think about.

All of OabPlawan's Love Scenes from Love No Long Beans. Because it would be a crime for me to have a favorite. SailubPon are featured twice on this list because they truly have some insane physical chemistry and their love scenes are up there with BossNoeul for me. I love that OabPlawan rarely had love scenes in bed, just getting down and dirty whenever and wherever they felt like it. It really showed how they just went with it when it hit them. It showed that despite their secrecy, they wouldn't be confined to a bed. Oab seemed to be a huge fan of lifting and bending Plawan over stationary surfaces. I approve of their unapologetic and inappropriate uses of counters.

Horny Miyata Being Mad At Iwanaga from Love is Better the Second Time Around. It was such a great love scene. Iwanaga was very much excited to be intimate with someone he held so dearly. Someone he loved. And though Miyata was a very willing participant he couldn't stop thinking about how good at The Sex Iwanaga was because it reminded him that Iwanaga was this intimate with other men. Why did it bother him? Because he felt like Iwanaga had moved on while he was stuck in the past, unable to give himself to anyone else; equating sex to love.

WayuJao's Love Scene from Two Worlds. We got ONE WayuJao love scene and it was amazing. The two of them in that dark ass abandoned house with the soft glow of candlelight. Jao was looking so incredibly nervous. Wagyu Beef was being very careful because Jao was hurt. I love that they kissed each other all over. The scene was intimate, slow, and passionate. Also who was expecting to see that much ass? Also, also Jao was doing a lot of movement with his punctured leg. I do wish we had more time with them in the series because I loved them together.

HuaiBao Hands Scene from Meet You At the Blossom. Perfection, so much so that it was my banner for a long ass time. Xiaobao had a way of making Huai'en feel shy, possessive, and insane all at once. I just found the love scene to be incredibly sweet and romantic. The hand kiss floored me along with their gentle smiles. The way Huai'en was running his hand down Xiaobao's thigh. The way he lightly raised Xiaobao's wrists above his head and how that turned into clasped fingers???? Pure art. Also I just loved Xiaobao's gold bangles in that scene.

GreatTyme's First Time in Great's Dying Brain from 4 Minutes. Oh it was so incredibly awkward. Great out of breath and laughing while Tyme kinda hovers over him. WHEN HE KISSED HIS FOREHEAD! Their kisses were sweet. I love how we got a lil awkward conversation in the silence while they tried to undress and figure things out. LOVED, LOVED, LOVED the close-up shots of Great's thigh tattoos and that hand pulling Tyme in closer. Great's Cartier bracelet!!! The way they were smiling and panting in each others faces; kissing and laughing. I also loved the golden light around them. It definitely had the ambiance of a dream.

GreatTyme's Actual First Time from 4 Minutes. It was fun. The open mouth kisses excellent. The way Great couldn't even wait until they got inside to go down on Tyme. And I cheered when Tyme pulled him back up for a kiss right after. Let's talk about Tyme eating Great out on the pool table and the way he was kissing all over the back of his neck! Let's talk about him biting that man's ass cheek. When Great put the condom on Tyme and lubed him up???? Oh that was hott!. Loved watching Great ride Tyme. Tyme's hands gripping and caressing Great's neck and chest and that overhead shot so we could see the gorgeous thigh tattoos again! Yea 10/10. IDK why Tyme was looking like he was annoyed because he was having a good time, the best time. I know sex with Great was the best he ever had.

Jack and Joke's First Time from Jack & Joker. Yea when they started off with Jack shoving Joke up against that wall through the clothes on the hangers? He hit the wall so hard I thought they were fighting and I thought Jack had put Joke through the wall. I love the way they kept shoving each other over so they could be on top. I love that they were both so out of breath the whole time. I loved the messy kisses, the choking, and chin grabbing. Loved the way they had to compromise or they would've been flipping each other over the rest of the series. I just know they left hella bruises and scratches all over each other. Those boys were hungry and feral.

ArashiRei's First Time from Love in the Air Koi. The way Arashi's giant ass had Rei pressed up against that wall, face buried in his neck and shoving his hands under his shirt? Rei looked so overwhelmed he really couldn't even respond, thought he was gon pass out. When Arashi lays Rei down and they kiss and Arashi starts licking Rei's lips?????????? We even got a brief shot of Arashi going down on Rei and I love the view we got of Arashi's back when he was pumping into Rei. Also Rei's moaning gave a porno vibe just a bit which I did enjoy.

[lychgate]

i haven't posted a really poorly drawn thought piece adventure in years so here's a brief update!

hope i hit the read more thing right oh well anyway:

"Spent a lot of time applying for a home loan. I had to pay -fucked up- to have a convincing income for a decent loan. It was very confusing but cody helped me a lot."

"Cody proposed to me It felt wonderful that someone wanted to share their time and love with me. Cody proposed Anthrohio weekend, it's the con we really met at."

"We saw the listing that sunday morning before we had to go to our table to vend."

"It was a perfect house. We were the first people to view it and we immediately put in a bid. And we got the house. Many papers to sign."

"Moving was not easy. It took 2 whole months. Cody was out of town helping their grandma recover from a big surgery and we had to sell their old house/move that as well as move from my apartment. ALSO THE PETS: My cat dick wolf + Cody's 3 birds. Until we could get some doors installed and separate the house, I had to live between two places every day to feed and care for them."

"Still, life was good. I bought my first house! It has a swing in the backyard. I've never had my own backyard. I've never even lived somewhere that had trees (in said yard) It felt nice. Living together with the love of my life and 4 pets."

"Through all this i never closed my shop. How could I? It was my income, and I just bought a house. It needed to stay open. Moving that much inventory, setting up a new office, the house is a nice size but it's not huge, so, very careful organizing had to be executed if I wanted my apparel laid out right. (Which I totally managed to do)"

"but i Did get really good at baking pies. the two are connected."

"sacred_crow on instagram!"

"there's like 25 of u bastards i would absolutely die for, and about 75 more that i would go nearly dead over."

"We have an extra bedroom so I got to turn it into a toy room. There's games, crafts, stuffed animals, movies, a sick loft I painted the shit out of. It rules. It brings me a lot of Joy."

"Under the loft we have a dug out where we can watch VHS tapes. I love to sit with Cody and watch movies and play Donkey Kong."

"I am not good at Banjo Kazooie, but Cody is. Cody is so talented. I love watching them play games. (Depicted is not banjo kazooie but donkey kong country 2 as we are currently playing that. I'm good at DKC but I will still swear and make sounds like im about to throw up)"

"Half the basement is finished, so we turned it into a dual office space. It rules. Cody has a whole side for fursuit crafting, and my side is mostly my gigantic gamer computer area/shipping area. I took a whole wall to put all my non apparel merch like pins charms and notebooks also. for hte love of god someone buy the notebooks they take up more space then i wanted"

"I love to look over from my computer and see cody working. They always look so focused, yet peaceful."

"It's winter but it rains. I miss the snow. I lived by the lakes growing up. I miss piles of snow. It's just wet and cold here. Yes i'm quite aware of global warming"

"I got kicked off both my health and car insurance. I fixed the car one but health insurance still no. All my meds have gone away. The past few months have been hard. I think way too much lately. I can't get myself to do anything. -this is a whole page of downer bullshit and i cropped it!-"

"We had a leaky ceiling that took a month to fix. Cody did all the work because they are smart and kind."

"Oh yeah I had my uterus removed earlier this year. They let me keep it. It's in a jar in my living room."

"We threw a very nice halloween party. I was the green m&m. Cody was the monarch."

"We adopted 8 beautiful kiwis from a crane machine at the mall. we spent over 100 monies to get them but it was worth it."

"

It was a rough year. My health is in decline. Our country may try to end my life for being trans soon (lol?) I am in hte middle of a colossal mental breakdown of my core fundamental behavior (depression advanced) BUT ALSO: I am engaged to my favorite person. We bought a house together. I'm beginning a new chapter of my life. I have a swing in my backyard. The negatives suck but there are also many positives. The cycle of emotions is immense, but there is beauty in it. There is beauty in life, and isn't that wonderful?"

[ddandelionfluff]

moonlit recollections | viktor x reader

modern-ish? au; fluff; no relationship established; it's my first time posting pls forgive any mistakes; englishmajor!reader; inspired by Astrophil and Stella Sonnet 71

***

Who will in fairest book of nature know

You knock on his door at two in the morning, startling him out of the coffee-fueled haze he had been in for the past few days. Your voice carries through the thin door, asking if he was still awake. Joints creaking, Viktor pulls himself out of his desk, self-consciously smoothing out his too-wrinkled shirt and running his hands through his too-long hair as he opens the door, stopping quickly. The inside of his dorm is a mess, and if you saw it, you’d probably start trying to help him clean.  

He draws a breath as you look at him and laugh, the corners of your eyes crinkling as they trace his hair.

“You look rough.” An admonishment.

He shrugs.

“I have an exam tomorrow,” An apology.

“Which is why I’m here,” You say by way of explanation, which does not actually explain anything.

His brows furrow as he leans against the frame, taking some pressure off his leg. “I do not understand. We did not have a study session planned today.”

And even if you did, it wouldn’t have been at two in the morning.

You laugh again, a short, incredulous sound, and Viktor wishes he was funnier so he could be credited for it more often.

“No, genius, I’m here to get you to take a break. Also, you did miss our last session, so you owe me.”

How virtue may best lodged in beauty be

So here he was, following you through the dark university buildings as you, for the lack of a better word, broke into the arts lounge.

“It’s not breaking in if I’ve got the keys,” You justify, keys jingling in your hands. Viktor studies you as you fiddle with them, your face scrunched and tongue poking through your lips in concentration. You hadn’t taken off the lip oil you usually wore for moisture, and it glittered under the flashlight’s scrutiny.

“Hmm?” He says, realizing that you had said something, and that you were standing.

“Is the sleep deprivation getting to you, Viktor?” You tilt your head, eyes roving over his face, searching for the obvious signs of exhaustion painting his features. The purple under his eyes, drawing his face in even harsher lines, the line of tension between his brows. The way his features tended to draw into themselves like a plant unwatered. He watches you watch him, tracing your lips, touchless, trying to remember a word that wasn’t your name.

“I think it is,” He admits softly, afraid of letting you catch onto him.

You smile, hands finding the doorknob and twisting. You leaves the lights off, navigating through memory and the stray light of streetlamps streaming in. Viktor stumbles behind you, feeling his way through clumsily.

The doors to the balcony had been left open, a major oversight you grumble about as you slide them open. The air is chilly, making you shiver as it slithers past the warmth of your sweater. His sweater, Viktor notices. He had lent it to you a week ago, at your last session.

 Let him but learn of love to read in thee,

You had shown up to the library soaked through, the rain outside painting the world gray with its weeping. You tried to hide the shivering, but it was clear in the way you clenched your teeth, body drawn together with tension as you laughed off his concern.

“I don’t need my sweater, go change in the bathroom,” He had offered, both pitiful and exasperated at your lack of planning. With a sheepish smile, you had accepted the help, promising to return it as soon as possible.

Sunk into worn leather couches warmed by the nearby fireplace, you’d almost disappeared under the wool. As your hands danced across the page of the textbook in your lap, underlining and annotating the poem as you explained the basics of close-reading, Viktor couldn’t help but notice how you halted to push the sleeves up now and then as they got in the way.

It was supposed to be an easy class, but as of late, it had been taking up more time than his core courses. Not that Viktor could be bothered. You two had been in the library for hours now, on the couches near the fireplace—a frequent haunt. It was the best place to curl up with your anthologies in your laps, the lack of tables allowing  forcing Viktor to lean closer to see what you were pointing at, and—unbeknownst to him, for you to sit so your thigh would press up against his. Though he wasn’t aware of your design, he was plenty aware of the electricity firing up his nerves, even when the warmth of the fire threatened to drag him under.

He yawned, confused. Not only because he couldn’t make sense of your explanation or the sonnet itself, but also because he wasn’t used to the extreme bouts of fatigue that overtook him around you. It must be the literature, he had thought to himself, the words were literally putting him to sleep.

Stella, those fair lines which true goodness show.

“Tired?” You’d asked, sounding equally exhausted and perhaps a little hopeful. But Viktor had shaken his head—he’d needed to get through it that night, for the test was less than twenty-four hours away. The first one, his chance to set a standard for himself and to make an impression.

“Confused. I still do not understand what this last line adds to the poem. It is so…” Viktor had sighed, mouthing the line. “…random.”

“Well,” You’d started, tucking away a stray strand of hair. “If you look at the rest of the sonnet, Astrophil has been focusing on the virtuous parts of his love for Stella, basing it in admiration of her character and beauty from this very pure, respectful perspective. Almost like he was worshipping a deity rather than, I don’t know, loving a person. Keeping that in mind, what do you think the sudden interjection of desire might mean?”

Even half-asleep, you made the perfect teacher. Viktor wondered if he was making you question your decision to be an educator with his idiocy. Mulling over your words, he’d tried to formulate a response that would please you.

There shall he find all vices' overthrow,

That was the most difficult part of this subject—finding an appropriate answer. In his field, there was only ever one. But here? It felt like he was shooting in the dark, randomly putting together semblances of analysis in hopes of making the puzzle fit. It frustrated him.

“Hm,”—is what came out. Sighing, he’d tried again.

“Well, desire in this case would refer to a…carnal feeling, would it not?” The word was awkward against his tongue as he’d looked to you for approval, lighting up slightly when you nodded. Congratulations, you absolute genius, you remembered a basic definition, he thought sarcastically. It was a clear testament to his skills that even such a rudimentary recollection made you happy.

“Desire expresses, well, a desire for sustenance,” He’d continued. “So, it is being starved by the virtue of Astrophil’s love for Stella, then? Is that it?”

You smiled, teeth peeking out from behind your gloss-painted lips. “That is one interpretation, and a pretty good one at that.” Then, you’d paused, leaving Viktor confused again. A good interpretation did not mean the best one.

Not by rude force, but sweetest sovereignty

“Some might say that it’s a reminder that any true love can’t just be focused on virtue and purity, but also needs to encompass more carnal, ‘lowly’ aspects to be complete.” You explained, noticing his look. “But it really doesn’t matter what interpretation you argue for, as long as you have a strong argument.”

“But which is the better answer?” Viktor had asked incredulously, a hand threading through his hair.  

You laughed lightly. “There isn’t one, I suppose. Just whatever you can argue for.”

“That makes absolutely no sense.” He said with finality.

You shrugged as you scribbled down the analysis in his margins, leaning over so your hair was too close to Viktor’s face. He drew in a sharp breath, smelling the fresh scent of your shampoo.

“It’s just an exercise in close-reading, Viktor. The entire point is to discover the poem,”—you’d punctuated this statement with a flourish of your hand, rings glinting—"not to tie it up and beat it until it gives you the ‘right’ answer.”

Your voice had taken on that trademark gentleness, the tone it always took when you talked about anything you loved. Poetry, your favourite book, even a particularly good cup of coffee. It made Viktor’s chest ache, like it was pulling into itself, trying to shy away from you. He wondered if you could ever talk about him in that tone.

He’d been silent too long, eyes resting on your face absentmindedly. You laughed, snapping your fingers in front of him. He startled, sheepish. You’d been talking.

“Wanna call it a night?” You’d asked, shifting to face him properly, knees still tucked under your thighs.

Viktor had shaken his head. “No, I still do not feel entirely confident about this test,”

“Relax, Viktor, it’s only worth four points. Have fun with it,” You yawned, leaning your head against the couch, right beside his shoulder.

He’d mimicked you, leaning his head back to relieve the ache in his neck. “I would have thought that our semester-long acquaintance would have shown you how impossible that is.”

You had shrugged, blinking slowly. “Worth a try,”

Silence was a blanket over the two of you, your eyes shut lightly while Viktor tried to draw his away. He’d dreaded the end of this quiet, when you inevitably opened your eyes and sighed, a complaint about how you still had to go home and make dinner slipping from your lips. And Viktor had, once again, been too afraid to betray himself, to ask if you wanted to come over for dinner, to punctuate that question with the fact that his place was closer anyway. Instead, he’d stolen glances as you packed up, stopped you from returning his sweater, assuring you he’d just take it later.  

Of reason, from whose light those night-birds fly;

“Do you remember when we first met? You looked exactly like how you do right now,” On the balcony, you pull him out of his thoughts, leaning against the railing. He steps forward to join you, the cold metal a welcome shock compared to the nearly uncomfortable warmth your presence inspired in him.

“Are you trying to tell me I look horrible?” He replies flatly.

You shrug, smiling. “Maybe,”

He laughs, swallowing the faint bitter taste of self consciousness as he takes his place beside you.

That inward sun in thine eyes shineth so.

He’d been late on the first day, having to brace far too many stairs for his liking. The night before had been spent sleepless with pain in his leg, and the stairs that morning only made it worse. The only seat left was beside you, in the second row of all places. Cane thumping embarrassingly as the professor paused, Viktor had dropped beside you, trying his best not to disturb your arm as he settled in. The old hall, tucked away in the windowless basement of the Arts department, had creaky chairs and tiny pull-out desks, quite different from the state-of-the-art labs Viktor was used to. Despite his best efforts, his arm bumped against yours as he brought out his notebook.

You’d startled slightly, throwing him a small smile as he muttered a hasty apology. He began trying to decipher the page number by looking at your book, half-hidden by the arm you rested your head on. Unfortunately, you’d noticed that too. With another kind smile, you’d reached over and turned the book to the right page, pointing to the exact sonnet being discussed.

Though he thanked you, the lecture still flew over his head.

He could feel your eyes on him as you put your things away extra slowly, as if to match his pace in an attempt to not embarrass him further. If so, it didn’t work. He’d been painfully aware of the delay he was causing.

 “Are you in this faculty?” You’d asked as Viktor stood up. He was a deer caught in headlights as you swung your bag onto your shoulder.

“No, this class is, eh, a required option,” He’d said, feeling the paradox of the category.

“Really? The engineering students usually take the lower-level literature courses.”

“How do you know I’m in engineering?” Viktor had asked. Being easily discerned didn’t sound like a good thing.

You’d laughed. “Don’t worry, it’s only because I know most of the literature students, we’re a pretty small group.”

“Fair, but I could be in maths, or biology,” He’d titled his head. Around him, new students had started piling into the room. The two of you had been standing here for a while now.

“Well, you smell like motor oil and formaldehyde, so I think I got it half right.” You’d winked, stepping past him. You smelled like jasmine and books.  “I’ll see you around?”

And, not content to be perfection's heir,

And you had seen him around. The next lecture, you’d grabbed a seat closer to the entrance, saving the one beside you for him. He saw you as soon he entered, drawn to familiarity. Stopping just a step away, he noticed the bag, self-consciousness seeping in for a second as he wondered if he wasn’t as welcome as your last conversation had led him to believe. Perhaps that was just politeness, to help him save face? He had taken up a lot of your time.

Somewhere in the middle of his internal conflict, you had looked up from your book.

“Oh, hi, I saved you a seat!” You’d said cheerfully, a hint of tension in your smile. Later, you would tell him you were afraid to come off as too eager to be his friend. He found it unbelievable that someone could be embarrassed of wanting to be kind.

Viktor had never been so grateful for both his inability to decipher literature or his disability than the effect it had on his friendship with you. After the egregiously long reading list was distributed, you’d turned to him:

“I was thinking of going to get the books after class, do you want to come with? There’s quite a lot of them, so it would be easier for us to carry them together.”

Only when you were walking back to his dorm did he realize that in his eagerness to form an acquaintance, he had skipped over something quite obvious.

“You do not need help carrying these,” He said, slightly accusatory.  In one arm he carried a tower of half of the total required books, and, he realized again, only the thinnest ones.

 “Well, I didn’t want to come off as patronizing by asking you if you needed help,” You said, voice strained. From embarrassment or the effort, he could not tell. “Besides, my reasoning was so half-assed, I thought you saw through it.”

Viktor’s annoyance had only lasted a second before he noticed the breathlessness in your voice, no doubt from carrying almost double the weight you’d have to if you’d bought only your own books.

“Well then, I think I owe you for this,” He’d said, trying to keep his voice even. The truth was, even with you taking on so much of the burden, his arms and legs ached. There was no way he could’ve made it all the way back without your help. “Thank you.”

Now, you were definitely embarrassed. “You don’t have to thank me, any friend would do the same.”

Friend. He had other friends, but Viktor had still warmed at the fact that you’d decided his company was worth pursuing.

Thyself, dost strive all minds that way to move,

Now, here you were, a semester’s worth of study sessions and late-night talks later, still finding each other’s company worthy. Even as you stood silently, admiring the city’s skyline, basking in the presence of the other wordlessly.

“I must apologize,” Viktor begins suddenly. You shoot him a quizzical look but let him continue.

“For missing our last session,” He explains. Now your lips part, but Viktor continues. “No matter how busy I had been, I should’ve let you know I couldn’t make it. But I had just returned from an exam after two sleepless nights and fell asleep despite myself.”

You turn towards him, concern drawing your eyebrows together. “Viktor, why would you need to apologize for getting sleep? Speaking of which, why are you depriving yourself of rest?”

“I need to study, you know how it is,” He waves a dismissive hand, trying not to get anxious over the fact that he was currently wasting time.

“I must admit, I do not know how it is,” You reply. It was true, Viktor had noticed the delicate balance you struck in your own life, somehow always finding the time to socialize and keep yourself healthy without failing all your courses. Though you always said it was because your degree was easier, Viktor didn’t believe it.

“Unfortunately,” He sighs exaggeratedly, “we cannot all be gods of excellent time management.”

You laugh. “Not time management, just an easier program,”

Viktor shakes his head. “After taking just one of the courses that make up your schedule, I must disagree. I would have failed without you.”

You roll your eyes. “Yeah, sure, Vik.”

The nickname makes his heart stutter, even though you’d used it a thousand times. The lack of sleep truly was getting to him. In the silence that followed (because he couldn’t think of how to continue), you sigh.

“What’s the end for you, Vik?” You ask, looking at him sideways. “What’s the point of all this—the sleepless nights, the skipped meals, the self abandonment?”

The question was uncharacteristically heavy, and he wonders for a moment if he should inquire after you. But then again, it was half-past two and you were here, with him, instead of getting the minimum eight hours of rest you subscribed to, so perhaps that was a non-question.

Instead, he ponders the question you’d asked, mulling the words over in his mouth before speaking. He hadn’t really vocalized it before. “Well, I want to help people, I suppose. Help them and be remembered for it.”

You hum in understanding, expecting him to continue. And he does.

“I suppose I’ve felt…invisible. For most of my life, that is. Most people were embarrassed of looking at me, and the universe itself seemed to be telling me that I didn’t matter. So I made myself matter. Became the smartest in the room, the most accomplished, excelling intellectually so that no one had a chance to notice anything else.”

“Did it work?” You ask, barely above a whisper.

“I…do not know,” He admits, laughing slightly. “The recognition, the awards, the opportunities—they help, but the attention only lasts a few minutes, and it’s always…incomplete.”

“How so?”

He hesitates slightly, scared of the words about to leave him. “People don’t see all of you, I suppose. Just your mind, and your work. They still shy away from all the parts of you that don’t fit in,” He motions towards the cane still clutched in his hand, and the leg that now ached tenfold.

You hum in understanding, your eyes now finding his. “Like people only value you for what you can do, rather than who you are.”

“Exactly.” For a moment, Viktor is in awe of your ability to understand people, before he notices the tension in your shoulders and the tight way you’d said those words.

“What about you?” He asks. “What do you hope to achieve from all this?” 

Who mark in thee what is in thee most fair.

You take a breath, exhaling deeply as you look around. “Same as you, I suppose.”

“I was referring specifically to all this,” He waves a hand, gesticulating to your surroundings. “Taking care of so many people, in so many small ways. It must add up. It must take time away from studying, from actually working towards your goals.”

You laugh, but it’s more of a formality than genuine mirth. “I don’t really have big goals like you, a need to be remembered in history for doing something great. I don’t care about a classroom of kids studying history decades in the future, I care about my siblings remembering me the moment they’re, I don’t know, illegally drunk and have no ride. I want to love and be loved now, in the immediate. Screw legacy, or whatever,”

 Somewhere during your brief monologue, the fire behind your eyes had started blazing again. The traitorous ally that was the air in his lungs betrays him, as it usually does around you, but Viktor wouldn’t be surprised if he could just survive on the sight of you alone. Your shoulders tense, face taught, defenses raised, a vestige of having to defend your choices and your life from those who could never truly understand you. As much as he wished to reach out, ease the tension holding you tight, it was exhilarating to witness—the ferocity that inspired your love.

“What?” Your eyes meet his, finally, after roving everywhere else for the past few minutes. He realizes he’s been staring too long, too quietly. Licking his lips, coming up empty for words. Woops.

“Is there something on my face?”

A shake of the head. “No, no. You’re fine,”

“Alright,” You say, suspicious. “You don’t think I’m stupid, do you?”

“Of course not!” Viktor scrambles to correct you. “I was just…at a loss for words.”

“Whatever you say, Vikkie-boy,” You sigh, faking exasperation.

Viktor cringes at the nickname, which was novel.  “Please never use that term again.”

You pout, a teasing glint in your eye as you lean towards him. “Aw, you don’t like my new pet name?”

“Yes,” Viktor replies, deadpan. Partially because he cannot, with any self-respect, entertain such a monstrous butchering of his name, and because you were entirely too close to him. Close enough that he can see the pores in your skin and the pupils of your eyes, and the glittering liquid in your waterline.

So while thy beauty draws thy heart to love,

He catches the exact moment you notice it too, the proximity. Your gaze flits somewhere lower, and though he would like to flatter himself, Viktor resists the thought that comes. He hears your breath falter, tripping before correcting itself, your lips parted slightly.

Another thought, loud and overwhelming. Much harder to resist. Much harder to think past. So he doesn’t—think, that is. Doesn’t speak. Lets the silence and your confusion stretch on for a few more moments as he takes you in.

“You’re acting a bit strange,” You say, voice and eyes low. It sounds divine.  He could listen to it all night. “You wanna go to bed?”  

As fast thy virtue bends that love to good:

Viktor shakes his head. There’s never been anything he was surer of. Perhaps he should feel a bit guilty that through your profession of your morals, your defense of your values, he could only think of stepping closer to you. Of taking your breath away. Of, perhaps, taking care of you, for once. Repay you for all your favours. Perhaps he should feel guilty that instead of engaging with you intellectually, he could only think of softness, in your hair, your lips, your skin. But then again—

He recalls dimly the poem that started this all, its lines blurring past him to the beat of his own heart.

But "Ah," Desire still cries, "Give me some food!"

He could do it. Step closer, quiet the tidal waves in his mind that left him so mute. There was a ninety-five percent chance you wouldn’t mind, a similar chance you would enjoy it.

It wouldn’t feel like a forest fire, he could imagine that much. A hearth, perhaps. Steady and warm and comforting, the warm space between your lips where your breath mingles with his—peppermint and coffee, the taste of the chocolate you’d been nibbling before a palimpsest he could trace with his tongue.

He could do it.

Could he?

[shurisneakers]

“i know we almost died just now, but… am i the only one who’s hungry?” is so harmless reader core… but what if it was Bucky saying this?

Also hi i love u

hi <3 hey <3 i love u too <3 harmless turns 4 years old next year she's like in school now

Catch up with the rest of the series here!

"Great job, team," you pant, raising your hand for a high five. "I think that was very well handled."

Bucky, still trying to process what exactly the fuck just went down, does not even respond when you match his indifference, dropping your hand to slap it against his.

"Is that how it always goes?" you ask him, looking around the empty lot. "I figured there'd be a lot more zing, y'know? Some oomph. That was like, fine."

The mission was going fine, calm even, until you managed to piss them off, leading to them calling in backup, leading to you both being severely outnumbered, leading to you deciding you'd gotten bored which finally lead to you ending it with a timeout-inator.

Things had exploded, Bucky had to pull down a door to shield you both-- it was a whole thing that he definitely did not mentally prepare for. This was just supposed to be a simple data extraction. He doesn't know at which point nuclear guns got involved.

"How--" Bucky stops mid-sentence, brain scrambling to put together things, "--how did you get assigned on this mission again?"

It wasn't like he claimed to be the expert on all things SHIELD, but he figured that a non-Avenger, non-agent needed a lot of clearance to be allowed on a mission, no matter how mundane the initial objective was. The fact that it devolved into madness was more on you than SHIELD.

"I wrote my name on the sign-up sheet," you explain, smoothing out your singed clothes.

"The what?"

"Fine, you caught me," you give in without even trying, dusting some ash off his shoulder. "I forged my name on some documents, used some white paint. Did an ol' switcharoo. You know how it goes."

"You faked your way here?" he shouts, dropping the damn door he was still holding. "What the hell was your plan?"

"Why does everything need a plan? Why can't I just tag along to see what you do for a living?"

"We nearly got killed. You--"

"But we didn't."

"That is not the point. You said it was a special mission, you said you had clearance from Nick to--"

"I said Nick would give me clearance for anything. And it is a special mission. I'm here, isn't that the specialest gift of all?"

"You didn't ask?" he screeches instead. "How did you get here? Who the fuck was supposed to be here in your place?"

"Clint," you say with a sheepish smile. "He told me he'd wash my garage so we swapped."

That fucking moron. "He'd wash your garage in exchange for you risking your life--"

"I didn't risk anything." You scoff. "I knew we would handle that like champs."

"We nearly got annihilated by a nuclear gun." He drags a hand down his face. "If he didn't trip over your stupid jacket in the last second, we would be dust."

"Well yeah, only if you put it like that," you relent. Bucky glares at you.

You look out at the empty room, one hand on your hip. Lot of rubble and shrapnel in places they had no reason being.

"Huh," you say after a while. "Guess we did just almost die."

"That's it?" he raves, still incredulous. "That's all you have to say?"

"That's crazy-sauce, man," you add, throwing your hands up when he glares at you. "What? What else should I be saying?"

"Where the fuck did you send them?" Bucky finally makes a move, wiping the dirt off his metal fingers onto his cargo pants.

"I put them in timeout," you reply, tapping the gun you'd put back into he pocket of your pants.

"Where is timeout?"

"Like, somewhere outside of time," you dismiss. "Time-out. You get it."

His eyes clench shut, taking a deep inhale in before exhaling, lest he pop a blood vessel.

"We almost died," he tells you again.

"If you say so," you nod.

He stares at you.

You stare right back at him.

The world keeps spinning.

"I'm hungry," he grumbles. "You want lunch?"

"I could go for a sandwich, yeah."

[simpingforbots]

Transforers Animated.

Optimus Prime

Already having to deal with his team, Prime was not looking forward to taking care of another human. He already had to deal with his team – Bumblebee who acted more like a sparkling, avoididng his responsibilities to have fun and cause mischief, then there is Prowl, who even if was well behaved, his “mysterious aura” did not help him at all to be part of the team, Bulkhead, bless his soft spark, was a bit clumsy time to time and had no control over his strength, which far to often angered Ratchet, their only medick, who loved to grumble about every thing. So he was not looking forward to any more humans to keep optic on. Though you proved to be more capable and responsible then Sari, who of course was a child compared to you, but in retrospect, all humans were like children compared to him, so young and small. You were soft, kind and respectful, a shoulder to vent when ever he felt overwhelmed, reassure him that he was a good leader and that he knew what he was doing. For that Prime was very thankful, feeling a bit more support now. He strated looking forward to your scare visits as you were an “earth adult” with your own responsibilities and rocks on your shoulders. Which was not to bad, but Optimus wanted for you to visit a bit more often and when Sari moved in due to her circumstances an idea popped in Optimus processor - what if you moved in here, there was enough space in the base after all, half of it being used for storage while the other part was left empty. With this in processor, Prime strated arranging things and learning about humans and what kind of habitats they preferred, like warm environment to function and rest in, colder to have a good recharge, preferring different types of colours and styles to decorate the living space, just like any other bot. The room that Prime “chose” for you was by his quarters, so that he can check on you time to time, to make sure you will be okay and safe, knowing how clumsy time to time you were. It was a bit difficult to do this in secret, but explaining all this paint buckets, equipment and other stuff as for Sari’s room, which was not half of a lie, some of it was, Prime was lucky you were so trusting. Though not as lucky as decepticons suddenly attacked your street, causing mayhem and over all damadge. Prime did use this moment as to guide one of the attacks to actually damage your building, putting blame on the decepticons, which you bought quite quickly and Prime was on cloud nine when you accepted the GREATFULL offer of moving in. After this Prime team noticed how “attentive” Optimus become towards you, acting a bit worried for them. He was always around you, checking, making sure you were alright, helping you get to work, of you were hurt he would attend to you, basiclay treating you like some kind of sparkling, even if you were an adult. Ratchet did grumble about it time to time, though he was happy that with you Prime got less in to trouble. When you started dating someone, Optimus was very against it, pulling all kind of strings to make sure that they woud not last, like checking their background, what they did and would go as far as stalk them, even scaring them of time to time. Basiclay being a protective dad-bot over you, so get used to disapproving looks when ever you try to date someone new and them suddenly ghost you.

Bumblebee

Bee did every thing in his power to have fun on this new planet – races, trouble, playing with Sari, videogames, Tv, just anything but work. It was so boring to patrol the city for decepticon’s. What he, a small bot, would do against someone as nut loos as Blitzwing Or Starscream. He just wanted to have fun. He ran in to you in front of the videogame store, staring at the new game called Doom, captivated by the action shown on the TV with wide optics until someone tapped on his peds, making him look down, you were standing there, extending a copy of the game he was staring at, with a smile on your face. It took a while to register what was going on, gently reaching out towards the copy and grabbing it. You thanked him for that one time when he saved you during one of the attacks, and seeing how bot constantly was spotted around here, staring at the display of different game, you decided to buy one for him. Bee was hapy that he got a new game and thanks you from the bottom of his spark. And just like this you two started hanging out more often. You met Sari as well and three of you just hangout, having fun playing games and getting in all sort of trouble. Though as you were an more mature, despite your young age, you also acted as a mother of the group, managing to keep tabs on them and surprised that out of all those alien bot’s the yellow one was the youngest, acting like a teenager, too bored to be cooped up inside and do missions. Bee was also kind of happy that you were there and would get a upset when both you and Sari would have to go attend your human life, like school and work, leaving him all alone. And because of this Bee become more clingy, especialy towards you, wrapping his servos around you when ever you were here, which looked very funny when a bot bigger then a human clung to a small adult like some kind of child, not wanting to be left alone. He did started following you around as well, and the only human he would actually listen to as you did sort of used carrot and the stick method with him. It did help that you used to baby sit your siblings so you knew how to deal with him, even if he was an alien teenage robot. Clingy one.

Bulkhead

This soft giant loved painting - a completely different hobby to what he supposed to be. Of course it was a better choice as he can avoid causing trouble at the base, like breaking Ratchet’s equipment and breaking things. He joined a small club of other artist, joining them in the park to paint scenary in peace and quite, enjoying this peaceful time without much worry. One of this outing you joined in, a new friend to make in this small circle of “people who were familiar with each other” and joined for the class. Bulkhead could see that you were not as good at this, probably trying out something new, and quickly regretting as you looked around, scared. Bulkhead decided to step up, moving a bit closer and showing his canvas, making you calm down a bit as you saw his painting, with him reassuring that you do not have to be perfect to enjoy something, even if you are not good at it. You did calm down a bit, no longer feeling ashamed of your art  and quietly chatting with the bot, asking about him. Soon they started meeting up alone, enjoy the compony of each other, sort of ditching the art class to enjoy their own progress and compony. Though with decepticons your life was in danger at one of the attacks, with Bulkhead having to keep you safe and show his destructive ability, fighting a bigger con – Lugnut. They were measuring in strength, with Bulkhead doing his best to keep the fight away from you and telling you t hide. After this experience big bot avoided you for some time, scared that you will be terrified of him, but to his surprised you were actually seeking him out, worried for the big guy and bringing him more art equipment. So sort of this fight brought you two even closer.

Ratchet

Ratchet was not a big fan of humans and it will take a miracle for him to become friends with one. Or one being a mechanic or engineer. Ratchet would stumble upon you when you were helping Bee out after this reckless idiot got one of his limbs hurt again, leaking oil to quickly and Ratchet could not make it there in time, screaming instruction in to intercom on what to do to prolong his activity. Once he arrived there, medic bot was shocked to see human welding the cuts and stopping the dangerous oil leak on Bee’s body, helping to stabilize young bot’s system. Shocked, Ratchet rushed in, though was pleasantly shocked to see how good the job was done. Grumbling, he moved human away, mumbling a thankyou as he attended back to young bot. The next time he sees this human again was after the battlefield with decepticons, attending to Bulkhead this time, who had a huge hole in his chest. Ratchet, this time, decided to watch how human will manage to fix, ready to shove them out of the way any moment they do anything wrong, kneeling beside them. You just greeted them, too focused on stooping leaking oil and trying to wire things back correctly. It was a good thing as your small hands were of better advantage, quickly fixing up what ever small damadge there was before attending to big one. Ratchet watched you, adding commentary as you worked, which you followed immideatly and soon enough you found your self under his wing, learning how to fix big alien bots for free. You did not complain, preferring to know how to help those huge alien bot’s who were the best line defence against big bad alien bots known as decepticons and their evil plans. Ratchet had you train on small machinery, helping them fix a few things here and there, taking you back to the ship they were on and help fix it up a bit, as much as both of you could, progressing quite well with your small help, able to fit in small spaces and fix issue. And even after that he still kept you under his wing, making sure YOU were alright as well. Any harm fall upon you from decepticon will send him in to rage and he will wreck havoc upon them. Any human will get a scare of their life and if you managed to somehow harm your self – you are not allowed to LEAVE HIS SIDE FOR DAYS!!! It’s not to long after you are officially his subordinate and a new human friend to grumble and fight with autobots when they break something, learning a few colourful words from each other.

Prowl

Prowl would love Earth for the live it had on it, fascinated on how the circle of life functioned here. Thing must die for a new life to thrive, with new life coming from joining of two others and how beautiful it is in all. He would hundred percent would love visiting shrines to feel tranquillity and joing meditation with humans, birdwatching, walking in a park and in general practise tranquillity. Though one day this tranquillity was disturbed as he heard a yelp, opening his eyes and scaning around. A human, hanging of the tree, holding for their dear life, all while the branch was snapping loudly, clearly not able to hold their weight, forcing Prowl to act immideatly, jumping in between trees to get momentum and as the branch finally snap, he managed to get you,  landing carefully on to the ground with you in arms, while you held something else. After some time it something made chirping noice and he looked down, shocked to see a baby chicks, snuggled in your arms, chirping for their mother. Looking up Prowl noticed one of the their creatures of Earth – snake, slithering away from the nest. He can guess why you had a chicks now, you were trying to safe them. Checking on the human, he was pleased to see you well and when he asked what it is you were doing up the tree, you only confirmed his though, though you did add that the chick belong to endangered species, with their mother passing away to keep them safe. Also that you can take them in as you worked in sanctuary. A new place for Prowl to visit and he did, checking on chicks and you as well, learning more about you in return. He found that you were very caring veterinarian, eager to help any living being, though terrified of spider to extend of climbing Prowl when ever the was one in sight, pleading for him to take care of it. It was sort of fun. After some months that Prowl spend in sanctuary helping taking care of chicks it was time to set the free in to the wild, with bends to help track and identify them in case anything goes wrong. Both of you watched them fly away as soon as the cage was opened, up and away. With that you thoug Prowl will no longer visit the sanctuary you worked on, though you were pleasantly surprised to find him there the next day. And the next. Honestly his compony was noce, both caring for life and Prowl did even thought you a few moves to self defend just in case anything goes wrong. And with time you grew on each other, enjoying the presence of your new co-worker, a big alien robot ninja.

[leftoverghosts]

the covenant

Patrick's emotions simmered, a mixture of fascination and frustration swirling within him as he observed you. Your defiance after your rebirth was both infuriating and alluring. You were an enigma, the sun that was meant to give life but would surely burn his soul to damnation. No matter how hard he tried to possess you, you eluded his grasp, making him want you even more.

But tonight, there would be no resistance. The walls between you had been chipped away over weeks of tumultuous passion, arguments, and feedings. Now, in his dark bedroom, you sat quietly by the window, the moonlight casting a haunting glow upon your features. Finally, you had woken up, you were his in a way that he would not dare to make any one else.

He approached with caution, the intensity of his presence drawing your attention away from the book in your lap. His hand rested on your shoulder, as cold as the December night. "I trust you have been enjoying my family's collection," he said with a grin playing upon his features.

You looked upon him with a disdainful expression, holding forward the book. "Your family's library is full of deceit, just as you are Patrick. These supposed histories are nothing more than propaganda against humans. This segment is naught but lies about how we are no more than mere chattel."

Patrick chuckled, leaning down to glance at the title, Elegy of the Mortal Flock by Tashi Duncan. “Oh, darling, did you really expect unbiased truth in a room owned by creatures like us? The stories are written by the victors, and we’ve always made sure to come out of top.”

You scoffed and allowed him to take the book from your grasp, watching as he carelessly tossed the ancient heirloom onto his desk.

“Everything they have told you about me, about our kind," his voice was dripping the excitement of a scholar with a new pupil, “is only half the story. We are not the monsters they paint us to be."

“Your companions certainly are,” you retorted, standing as he reached for your hand. He guided you towards the bed with slow deliberation.

Patrick laughed softly, the sound rich with amusement. “Oh, I will not deny that. Tashi is insatiable and Art is a cunning bastard.” He drew you closer, his arms encircling your waist. His breath was cool against your ear as he whispered, “But I am not them.”

“No,” you murmured, turning your head. “You are just the cub pretending not to have claws or fangs.”

Patrick's expression tightened with a sinister smirk as his hand trailed over the side of your neck, lingering over the faint scar from where he had marked you with his bite. "And yet, here you stand before me," he purred, a mixture of awe and lust in his voice. “Do you think a lion is defined only by its teeth and claws?"

“There is also its pride,” your tone was sharp. “And its hunger.”

“Ah, yes, my hunger.” He nodded in agreement, his hands moving to your hips, his touch turning rapacious. “And you, my love, are the only one who can satisfy it.” His lips replaced his fingertips, trailing the column of your neck, sending shivers down your spine despite yourself.

"How amusing," you muttered sarcastically, tilting your head to give him better access. "Considering all the women hidden away in your so-called pleasure wing that seem to keep you well-fed."

The keening sound Patrick let out was low and menacing, his eyes darkening with desire. "Pleasure, yes," he murmured, the tips of his fangs lightly grazing your throat. "But never true satisfaction. None of them compare to you."

You wanted to resist his words, to call him out for the lies they sounded like, but you could not. Not when his hands caressed the curve of your belly, lingering on the small bump that had irrevocably altered the relationship between you. His smile softened against your skin, the feral edge of his touch giving way to something achingly tender.

“This miracle has changed me,” he whispered, his hands splayed over your stomach, cradling your belly with reverence. “This life you carry… it was once thought impossible, but now it is our future.”

"Pretty words, Patrick," you said, but your voice caught with emotion as his mouth traveled lower, brushing against your collarbone.

"Do you truly doubt my sincerity?" he asked, dead blue eyes twinkling with mischievousness. "Perhaps you’re right. Words mean so little. But actions, my dear, actions speak louder than any words." He took hold of your chin, forcing you to meet his unwavering gaze. "You are bound to me now, body and soul, whether you like it or not. Your God forsook you the moment you woke as one of us." His voice held a possessive edge once again. "You carry my child, and you will stay by my side faithfully until the day you die."

“When will that day be?” you asked with frustration and anger. But before you could say anything else, he fell to his knees in front of you, his hands sliding up your thighs.

The sight of him kneeling—Patrick Zweig, a monster so formidable and otherworldly, now entirely at your mercy—made your breath hitch.

"Patrick," you started uncertainly, torn between pulling him back up or succumbing to him completely.

"The day you die?" He whispered, his voice dripping with sorrow and hunger, gripping your nightdress in his hands, lifting it. "No, my pet, I will never willingly let you meet your end." His eyes glinted with adoration, as inch by inch, he slowly uncovered the apex between your legs. He pressed his face forward into the coarse hair, breathing deeply, before chancing a lick. "You are damned, we belong together," he warned, the promise of protection laced with a frightening undertone.

As his kisses explored your body, you realized that this oath was sealed in blood and would bind you to him for eternity. Quivering under his touch, the rational part of your mind could not help but ponder if this love was worth the cost of your very soul. You silenced it.

This redoubtable being had claimed you as his companion and the guardian of his legacy. A future filled with peril and sacrifice lay ahead, but right now, the only thing that mattered was the unbreakable connection between you and the nosferatu who held your destiny in his grasp.

[starkeymuse]

decode | rafe cameron | part three

summary: grace knew the outer banks were full of dangerous currents, but she never expected rafe cameron to be one of them.

warnings: violence, slight mentions of abuse, mentions of blood.

note: the friendly neighborhood kook is here :)

✧ listen to: seventeen going under by sam fender + affection by between friends ✧

the summer heat still clung to the air even as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting an orange glow over the outdoor movie screen. the weekly movie night was a staple in obx during the summer, drawing crowds from all over the island. the grass was packed with kids sprawled on blankets, cheap folding chairs, and the occasional truck bed. laughter and the hum of idle conversation filled the air, blending with the speakers that announced the movie was about to start.

we decided to come tonight because sarah and john b were having dinner at sarah's house with her dad, ward. hopefully, they’d be able to get the maps without anyone noticing. this was also known as, the first step to getting the gold. kie and sarah hadn’t exactly mended their rift, but they agreed to be civil for now.

i stood in line at the concession stand, tapping my foot against the uneven gravel. kie had asked for a bag of popcorn, and jj and pope wanted sodas. i was debating whether or not to grab myself an ice cream when i felt someone step up behind me. my skin prickled. i didn’t need to turn around to know who it was.

“hey grace, what’s up?” rafe’s voice carried over, laced with a grin i could practically hear. pulling at my focus while setting me on edge. it wasn’t fair, the way it could make me feel, like the ground wasn’t steady beneath me.

“ugh- you again?” i asked, crossing my arms and turning to face him. heat was rushing to my face. i hated how he could do that.

“topper and kelce know what pope and jj did,” he said, his tone quiet but heavy.

my frown deepened. “what are you talking about?”

rafe’s jaw tightened, his gaze flickering over the crowd before locking back on me. “the boat,” he said. “they know.”

his words hit like a splash of cold water, leaving me blinking as i tried to process. the boat? what boat? a knot of dread began forming in my stomach, and for a split second, i thought about pushing him for more details.

"i seriously don't know what you're talking about” i admitted, my voice quieter now. i searched his face for answers, but he didn’t give me any. instead, he just shook his head, his lips pressing into a thin line, and walked away. his broad shoulders, tensed and rigid, disappeared into the crowd. it was infuriating, the way he could drop something like that and disappear.

my hands felt clammy as i grabbed the drinks and popcorn, the flimsy cups trembling in my grip. i hurried back to our blanket, nearly spilling jj’s coke on a toddler who darted in front of me. when i finally dropped onto the grass beside kie, she gave me a weird look.

what the fuck did you do?” i demanded, my voice harsher than i intended. i turned to jj and pope, who both froze mid-sip of their drinks.

“uh, what?” jj asked, feigning innocence as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

“rafe just told me that topper and kelce know what you did,” i said, narrowing my eyes. “the boat? what the hell did you do?”

pope winced, and jj let out a nervous laugh.

“okay, so maybe we… kinda sunk topper's boat,” jj admitted, shrugging as if it were no big deal.

“you what?” kie hissed, her head snapping toward him.

“it was pope’s idea,” jj said, throwing up his hands. “they’ve been terrorizing us for years. it was payback!”

“hey, don’t pin it all on me,” pope shot back, glaring at jj. “you were the one who said, and i quote, ‘let’s see if topper can swim!��”

kie groaned, burying her face in her hands. “you two are actual idiots.”

“idiots with a cause,” jj said, smirking as he reached for his soda. “you’re welcome.”

“yeah, thanks for painting a giant target on our backs,” i muttered, rubbing my temples. my pulse was already racing, and i had a sinking feeling this night was about to get a lot worse.

“oh, come on,” jj said, leaning back on his elbows. “what’s the worst that could happen? topper tries to fight us again?"

"yes that's exactly what could happen." i corrected him. i understood why they did it, but they got caught so easily, and what annoyed me the most was that they didn't tell us.

about fifteen minutes later, jj and pope stood up, muttering something about needing to "wring it out". they disappeared behind the massive movie screen, leaving kie and me to exchange annoyed glances. i couldn’t shake the tension building in my chest. something felt off.

voices. raised, sharp, and cutting through the noise of the movie and the chatter around us.

kie’s head snapped toward the screen. “do you hear that?"

i didn’t answer. i was already on my feet, my heart pounding as we ran toward the sound. we rounded the screen just in time to see kelce and jj going at each other, fists flying. topper was on the ground, choking pope, his hands wrapped around his throat.

get off him!” kie screamed, rushing toward them.

kie was already trying to pull kelce off jj, but he shoved her away. i threw myself at topper, clawing at his arms to get him off pope, with a snarl, he shoved me back so hard i hit the ground, pain exploding in my head as it smacked against the ground.

for a split second, my vision blurred, and i was back in a moment, my father’s rough hands pushing me to the ground, anger simmering behind his eyes. the memory hit me like a tidal wave, but it was gone as quickly as it came.

i barely had time to process what was happening when rafe appeared out of nowhere, grabbing topper by the collar and yanking him off pope. he didn’t hesitate, landing a punch square on topper’s jaw.

rafe’s voice cut through again, his words a furious growl, “what the fuck did I tell you, topper?” but even as he yelled, i could barely process it, my head spinning and my body aching from the fall. the anger in his voice seemed distant, too far away to grasp. all i could do was try to steady myself, feeling the world tilt and spin around me.

as i pushed myself up, my hands shaking. the chaos around me felt muted, distant, like i was underwater. my head throbbed, and when i reached up to touch my forehead, my fingers came away sticky with blood.

my body was on autopilot, moving without thought as I tried to make sense of what was happening. the fight was spiraling out of control. jj and kelce were still at it, and rafe was right there, caught in the madness. but all I could think about was stopping it, somehow.

then I saw it—kiara’s bag on the ground, tossed carelessly as the fight raged on. without thinking, i ran to it, my hands trembling as i fumbled to grab the lighter from inside. the small object felt strangely heavy in my palm, the idea hit me. my pulse was loud in my ears as i flicked the lighter to life, the flame shooting up in the dark.

with shaky hands, i held it close to the edge of the movie screen and watched as the flames crept along the fabric. they caught quickly, and within moments, the screen was alight, the orange glow lighting up the area around us.

“jesus!” someone yelled. “what the hell?!”

the fighting stopped immediately, everyone frozen in place, staring at the flames that had started to eat through the movie screen. the crackle of the fire filled the air, and the smell of burning fabric made me cough. my eyes darted between my friends, each of them looking stunned, some still catching their breath from the fight.

i felt a mix of panic and relief, my hands still shaking as I watched the fire burn. it was done. the fight was over. i glanced over my shoulder, I saw topper and kelce scrambling away.

“hey!” jj’s voice echoed “grace, let's go!”

i turned around just in time to see him, pope, and kie running toward her car. but i wasn't done, just yet. i was already moving toward rafe.

"what the fuck was that?” i said, my voice full of anger.

“i didn’t know they were gonna do that,” rafe shot back, his frustration matching mine. “i told you—topper knew about the boat, but i had no idea he was gonna come after you guys again.”

i stared at him, disbelief lacing my words. “that’s why you told me they knew? because they were going to come after us again?”

he looked away, running a hand through his hair, before locking eyes with me again. “i thought i could stop it. i thought it wouldn’t go this far.”

“well, you were wrong,” i snapped, trying to keep my voice steady. “seems like you’re always trying, it's like your favorite word lately.”

rafe’s face hardened for a moment, but his gaze shifted to my hand, smeared with blood. the anger drained from him in an instant, replaced by something softer. something like concern. “you’re bleeding.”

i quickly wiped at my face, trying to ignore it, but it was obvious.

“jesus,” rafe muttered under his breath, taking a small step closer. “you’re hurt. let me see.”

i tried to back away, but he followed, his eyes too focused, too intense. i couldn’t keep avoiding him—not now.

“grace,” rafe said softly, his voice lower, almost like he was afraid of scaring me. i didn’t give him a chance to say more before his hand was at the back of my head, gently tilting it as he examined the cut on my forehead.

his touch was so careful, so unexpectedly tender. it threw me off. i froze, not knowing what to do, what to feel. everything was already too much, and this wasn’t helping.

“that's pretty bad,” rafe murmured, his voice almost a whisper. i wanted to tell him i was fine, but the words felt like they were stuck in my throat.

“i’m fine,” i muttered quickly, stepping back, but my hands were shaking too much. damn it, i hated this. my heart raced, but for an entirely different reason now. i didn’t know what he was doing to me.

“don’t give me that bullshit,” rafe said, a little more firmly. “let me help.”

i shook my head, stepping back again, trying to get space between us. my breath was shallow, still feeling the rush of the fight. but his eyes never left mine. they were too intense, too much.

“i need to go,” i said, the words cracking in my throat.

without waiting for a response, i walked off, refusing to look back this time.

we stumbled into the château, the screen door slamming behind us. john b and sarah were sitting on the couch, laughing about something, but their faces froze when they looked up and saw us.

“what the hell happened?” john b shot to his feet, his eyes scanning the bruises and blood on all of us.

“topper and kelce happened,” kie said, dropping her bag onto the table with a thud.

“again?” sarah asked, her arms crossing tightly.

jj leaned against the wall, a cocky grin tugging at his busted lip. “Yeah, but this time, we really gave them something to cry about.”

“jj…” john b’s voice had that warning tone, and jj just shrugged.

“we sunk topper’s boat,” he said nonchalantly like he was reporting the weather.

“you what?” sarah’s voice shot up an octave, and john b looked like he might combust on the spot.

“you’re welcome!” jj said, throwing his arms out. “no need to thank us all at once.”

john b groaned, rubbing his temples. “are you kidding me? why the hell would you do that?”

“because they wouldn’t leave us alone!” pope cut in, his voice defensive. “we’ve tried everything else. this was the only way to get revenge.”

“oh, yeah, genius plan,” sarah shot back. “because obviously, sinking their boat totally de-escalated the situation.”

“obviously not,” jj said, sarcasm dripping from his voice. “which is why they jumped us. you're catching on, sarah. gold star.”

“jj.” i muttered, shooting him a look.

“what?” he asked, feigning innocence. “i’m just saying, if anyone’s getting a ‘most dramatic reaction to a sunken boat’ award, it’s definitely topper. his family are millionaires, there will probably be a new one in the water by tomorrow.”

“not helping,” kie snapped.

john b threw his hands up. “you didn’t think maybe we should talk about it first?”

“talk about what?” jj retorted. “oh, hey, guys, let’s have a civilized chat about how topper’s been terrorizing us for weeks. maybe we’ll bake him a cake while we’re at it.”

“jesus christ, jj.” john b muttered, shaking his head.

“look,” pope cut in, trying to bring some sense to the conversation. “we didn’t expect this to happen, okay? and you know what else? i definitely didn’t expect rafe to show up and save my ass.”

“what?” sarah asked, her eyebrows furrowing.

“rafe,” pope repeated. “he pulled topper off me. took him down, too.”

john b’s jaw tightened. “rafe helped you?”

“for once, yeah,” kie said, crossing her arms. “if he hadn’t shown up, it would’ve been a lot worse.”

sarah looked skeptical. “and you’re sure he wasn’t in on it?”

“don’t care why he was there,” jj said, flopping onto the couch with a wince. “all i know is, he threw one hell of a punch. kinda satisfying, honestly.”

“he wasn’t in on it,” i cut in. everyone turned to look at me, the room going quiet for a moment. i folded my arms, ignoring the sting in my scraped-up elbows. “rafe. he didn’t know topper and kelce were going to jump us, he was trying to stop it. he told me that.”

kie raised an eyebrow, clearly skeptical. “and you believe him?”

i hesitated, my gaze dropping to the floor for a second. “yeah, i do,” i said finally, meeting her eyes again. “he didn’t have to show up at all, but he did. and he helped. whether we like it or not.”

“don’t give rafe all the credit,” jj said, a grin spreading across his face as he glanced at me. “grace, nice job lighting the screen on fire. honestly, one of my favorite things you've ever done.” he lifted his hand for a high five, wincing slightly as he shifted on the couch.

i stared at him for a moment before finally slapping his hand. “thanks, jj. glad my moment of sheer panic entertained you.”

“entertained? that was genius,” he said, leaning back with a smirk.

john b was still pacing, clearly trying to digest everything. "so let me get this straight—topper and kelce come after us because you guys sank their boat, rafe shows up out of nowhere to help, and then grace pulls off a fire stunt to distract them."

“yup,” jj said, his grin widening.

john b dropped his hands to his hips, shaking his head. "god, what a mess. next time, we’re talking things through before we do anything this reckless."

“next time,” sarah said, sounding a little exasperated, “maybe we keep the boat-sinking plans to a minimum, huh?”

“deal,” jj and pope replied in sync.

the room started to feel lighter as the tension faded, and i let out a breath i hadn’t realized i’d been holding. but my mind kept drifting back to rafe, how he had appeared out of nowhere, pulling topper off pope like it was nothing.

i thought i hated him, but in that moment, i couldn’t shake the feeling there was more to him than i realized. then there was that touch—his hand brushing my face, wiping the blood away. i hated how it made my heart race, but it also made me rethink everything. and now, with my friends seeing that rafe had helped us, i felt a small, unexpected relief. maybe there was more to him than the reckless, asshole guy i’d always thought he was. for the first time, i didn’t feel guilty for wondering if i’d been wrong about him. maybe he wasn’t such a bad person after all.

did you guys get the maps?” i asked, trying to shift my focus from rafe.

sarah let out a frustrated sigh, shaking her head. “no. my dad's office was locked, and i couldn’t find the key.” she glanced at john b, her tone a little apologetic. “we’ll have to go back in a day or two, when ward and rose leave for the day. but… i was thinking maybe someone other than john b should come with me this time.”

john b raised an eyebrow. “what, you don’t trust me?”

“i trust you,” sarah said quickly. “but it’s just... it might be better if it’s someone else this time. someone my dad doesn't know.”

she had a point. none of us wanted to take the risk of running into trouble again.

"i’m thinking grace should come with me,” sarah added, looking at me with a smile. “you’re not really tied to my family, so it’ll look less obvious if we get caught, and we could be in and out faster."

i nodded, realizing how solid her plan was. “i can do it,” i said, trying to sound confident even though i felt a little nervous. “we’ll be in and out.”

kie, who had been listening, spoke up. “just be careful, both of you. this whole thing is a lot more dangerous than it seems.”

“i know,” sarah replied.

i noticed it right away. there was no sarcasm in kie’s voice, no snappy remark. it wasn’t like they were suddenly best friends or anything, but for the first time in a while, there was an understanding between them. it was small, but it was there. and it made me smile.

i didn’t say anything about it, but i couldn’t ignore that moment.

work had been exhausting, my feet ached, and the smell of food clung to my clothes, a stark reminder of the hours i’d spent hustling around marcy's. the sky was already dark as i locked up and made my way to my bike, ready to head home and crash for the night.

just as i swung my leg over the seat, my phone buzzed in my pocket. i pulled it out and saw kie’s name pop up on the screen.

kie: party tonight! perkins beach.

i paused, rereading the text. after everything that had gone down yesterday with topper, rafe, and the rest of the mess, i wasn’t sure i had the energy for a party. but at the same time, maybe blowing off some steam wouldn’t be the worst idea.

me: when?

her reply came almost instantly.

kie: now. please come!!!

the ride home was quick, and after a quick shower to rinse off the day, i threw on a fresh set of clothes. the possibility of seeing rafe crossed my mind. maybe it shouldn’t have mattered, he was probably at every party on the island but after yesterday, the idea of seeing him made my chest flutter. i shook the thought away. it wasn’t like we were friends, and whatever happened yesterday didn’t mean anything. at least, that’s what i kept telling myself.

the night air was warm, but the breeze from the water kept it bearable. the beach was alive with music, laughter, and the sounds of waves crashing against the shore. it was a mixed crowd of kooks and pogues, but the division didn’t feel as stark. everyone was just here to have a good time, or at least that’s what i told myself as i downed another drink, trying to ignore the guy who wouldn’t stop talking to me.

i didn’t even know his name, but he was persistent. his words were just a blur of nonsense as he babbled on about some party in the city or something. his hands moved all over the place as he talked, and i couldn't help but zone out, my eyes scanning the crowd.

that’s when I saw him.

rafe stood at the edge of the group, leaning against a tree, half-heartedly nodding at whatever someone was saying to him. but the moment our eyes met, there was that smirk, half cocky, half amused, and i could feel heat flushing my cheeks. i quickly looked away, shaking my head at myself. the guy talking to me didn’t notice, still going on about whatever pointless story he was telling.

“yeah, i-” the guy said, but i wasn’t listening anymore. i was just thinking about that look from rafe.

i swigged the last of my drink, half expecting it to be a little stronger than it was, but it didn’t matter. the buzz was creeping in, and the warmth in my chest was making me forget about the guy talking my ear off.

“alright, i’m gonna go check on my friends,” i interrupted him, and without waiting for a response, i pushed through the crowd and made my way toward the water, hoping to find some space to breathe.

i was standing at the edge of the water, my toes sinking into the cool sand as the gentle waves lapped over them. the noise of the party felt far away now, distant laughter and music blending into the hum of the ocean. the alcohol buzzed lightly in my veins, making the stars above seem brighter, the air softer.

i heard footsteps approaching and i already knew who it was.

“oh, look,” i said, lifting my drink with a sarcastic flourish. “our friendly neighborhood kook is here."

rafe actually laughed at that, shaking his as he stopped a few feet away. “friendly? that’s a stretch. but I’ll take it.”

i rolled my eyes, turning my gaze back to the water. “shouldn’t you be off brooding in a corner somewhere or watching your friends terrorize someone?”

“nah,” he said, stepping closer. “brooding’s overrated. and as for terrorizing, i thought i’d give you a break tonight.”

“how considerate,” i shot back, glancing at him. “truly, you’re a saint.”

“don’t push it,” he replied, grinning.

we stood there in silence for a moment, the sound of the waves crashing on the shore the only thing filling the air. i could feel his eyes on me, though, and it made my skin feel too warm.

he stopped beside me, his presence annoyingly magnetic. without a word, he tilted his head, studying me. his eyes lingered on the small bandage near my hairline, and before i could stop him, his hand reached up.

“rafe,” i warned, but he ignored me, his thumb gently tracing over the the bandage.

“i'm gonna kill topper. are you okay?” he said, his voice quieter now, almost thoughtful.

i swatted his hand away, but the touch had already sent a shiver down my spine. “i’m not fragile, rafe. i’m fine.”

he let out a low chuckle, stepping back just slightly, but his eyes didn’t leave mine. “yeah? you have a hell of a way of showing it.”

i rolled my eyes. “and you have a hell of a way of just showing up wherever i go.”

“can't help it,” he shot back, the smirk returning.

“right,” i said sarcastically.

“you keep talking like that, grace, and people might think you don’t like me.”

“oh, i don’t,” i said, though my lips twitched with the faintest hint of a smile.

“you sure about that?” his tone was teasing, but the way his gaze held mine made my stomach flip.

“positive.”

the words barely left my mouth before the ground seemed to tilt under me. i swayed slightly, and rafe’s hand was on my arm in an instant.

“you’re not fine,” he said firmly, his voice laced with something between frustration and concern.

“i’m just tired,” i muttered, trying to wave him off.

“grace,” he said, his tone softening. “you’ve been drinking, and you’ve definitely got a concussion. that’s not tired. that’s stupid.”

i opened my mouth to argue, but before i could get a word out, the dizziness overtook me completely. the last thing i saw was rafe’s face shifting from exasperation to alarm before everything went dark.

the first thing i felt was the rocking, the gentle sway of water under me. my head throbbed painfully, each pulse sending a sharp wave of dizziness through my skull. i groaned, trying to blink the fog away, but everything around me was unfamiliar.

where the hell was i?

i shot up in a panic, my heart hammering in my chest. the sudden movement made my head spin, and i clutched the side of the cushion i was on, trying to steady myself. i couldn’t remember how i’d gotten here.

"easy," he said, his voice low and steady. "you’re okay."

rafe was sitting a few feet away, looking like he’d been there for a while. he stood up and came over to me, sitting at the end of the blanket must have placed over me when i was out cold.

"where am I?", i froze for a second, still trying to piece together what was happening.

"on my boat," rafe replied, his tone calm. "you passed out right in front of me. your phone was dead, and i didn’t think you’d want me to call an ambulance. so, here we are."

i took a shaky breath, the tension in my chest slowly loosening. there was something oddly reassuring about the fact that he hadn’t just left me alone or handed me off to someone else. he’d stayed. i barely knew him, but for some reason, his presence here, near me, made me feel safe.

"how long… how long have i been out?"

"a few hours," he answered, his eyes shifting to the water outside the boat, then back to me. "it’s almost sunrise."

rafe shifted in his seat, glancing over at me. "you good?"

i nodded, "yeah. just-" i hesitated for a moment, then looked at him again. "thanks for not just leaving me."

rafe’s expression softened, his gaze steady. "i wasn’t about to leave you passed out on the beach, grace."

i wasn’t sure what to say. instead, i just nodded.

"so," he continued, after a beat, "i think it’s safe to say you need to take it easy for a bit. how’re you feeling?"

"better," i replied, rubbing my forehead gently. "still kind of dizzy, but not as bad."

"good," he said, giving me a small smile. "just rest for now. i have no where to be."

i met his gaze, a quiet appreciation settling in. "i owe you one, huh?"

rafe smiled. "yeah, but i’ll collect later."

this one is very long, but i wanted to make up for not posting for like a week :) ugh i love some flirty banter,, i hope you liked part three. stay tuned for part four soon <3

[five-rivers]

I would like to know more about ghost wombs in Danny phantom, I really loved the the fics about them and the implications of them. Kinda just one see a fiction of Danny being bombed by Vlad or Pandora or walk and what would happen after that.

Oh, no, my old curse coming back to haunt me. Ahhhhh take a Pandora.

.

Danny hadn't thought much about it when Pandora invited him back to her palace after they'd gotten her box and the Box Ghost squared (heh) away. He'd helped her, and she wanted to say thank you. It wasn't as if it hadn't happened before, even if it wasn't exactly common.

They'd talked for a while, over sandwiches. Pandora seemed interested in what he did as a hero, how his thermos worked, and things like that. They were, she had pointed out, doing similar things, and his thermos was remarkably like her box.

Then, they'd walked through Pandora's gardens. The hedge mazes had seemed higher than they had before, their twists and turns tighter, more frequent, more disorienting. The Labyrinth, she'd explained, responded to need. There had been a need for Danny to get past it, so it had been simpler, the magics in it that kept ghosts passing through earthbound not as strong.

After a while, they'd turned back towards the palace.

"There is something I want to show you," said Pandora, once they had left the maze. "Something important."

Danny looked up at her, confused. He'd thought they'd gotten all of the important stuff out of the way already. "Did something else get stolen?"

"Nothing like that," said Pandora. "But considering how our interests align, it is something you should see."

Danny nodded. He wondered if it was going to be something like the Cave of History in the Far Frozen.

They walked under a columned porch. Water flowed across the marble in what looked like specially cut channels.

"The Lethe," said Pandora. "Be careful, a single drop can make you forget everything."

"Everything?"

"Everything."

Danny shuddered and pulled his feet up underneath him to float instead of walking. "That sounds dangerous."

"It is," said Pandora, "but some things need to be protected by more than walls."

Hesitantly, Danny nodded. He could understand that.

They crossed into the building proper. The floor was a maze of little streams and a dais rose out of the center like a tiny mountain. Pandora flew ahead of him, towards the dais. Danny hesitated for a moment, then followed, wary of the water.

On the dais was a plinth, and on the plinth was a... It wasn't quite a box. Or, it was a box, but it wasn't cubical. It was cylindrical, with a round lid. The sides were painted in detail.

"Go ahead," said Pandora. "Look inside."

Danny glanced at her, then looked down at the box again. He reached out and touched the lid's handle, offsetting it slightly. There was a rushing sensation, as if the box had been filled with wind. Danny blocked his face with his hands and arms.

When the wind died down, he lowered them and looked around. The room was entirely different. It was small and dark and round, and there was so much ectoplasm in the air that it felt wet. Other than the glow of the ectoplasm, the only light came from an odd, crescent shaped skylight high overhead.

As he watched, the skylight waned away to nothing.

.

Outside, Pandora closed the lid of the box, making sure it had settled into it's proper place. She patted it, gently, thinking of the child inside. Before too long, he would be changed. Remade. Reborn. And then she would let him out into his new, second life.

Taking him was, admittedly, a bit of an impulse decision, but how could she not, when they were so similar? When he had come to help her? When he was so young, so unformed?

But it would take time.

She turned and left.

[jessicas-pi]

So. You guys remember that AU I had? The one where Darth Vader kind-of adopted Inquisitor!Ezra as his son? Among other things? No? Ok yeah here's the link to the OG post

...

ANYWAY I HAVE MORE THOUGHTS NOW!

Shortly after arriving on Lothal, Sabine found Ezra some armor and painted it to match hers. Since they look pretty much the same and never take off their helmets when they're out vandalizing, no one knows who they are or even how many of them there are. People start calling them the Mad Mandos. Sabine thinks it's a lame nickname, Ezra thinks it's awesome.

When Vader shows up, Ezra insists he stay for dinner. Yes he knows Vader can't eat with the suit, but it's polite and he hasn't had a family dinner with Dad in so long...

Cue the most awkward meal of all time. Vader tries to make small talk. Sabine is silently panicking while Vader is making small talk. Vader is trying to figure out who the Mandalorian is (is she ezra's friend? is she ezra's girlfriend? did she kidnap him? did he kidnap her? was it mutual kidnapping? this is all very unclear and vader needs answers) without being too scary, for Ezra's sake, but frankly there's nothing he can do about it. He's terrifying. It's a fact.

Anyway. Ezra's happy. Sabine's freaked out. (She's so glad she took Ezra out of the bounty hunting profession because this would have ended so badly if he'd been hurt.) And then...

Actually, I have to back up and explain.

So, the Empire is in absolute CHAOS right now. Mostly due to the fact that the Emperor is dead.

Palpatine had been trying to get rid of Ezra for some time, seeing the boy as a weakness to Vader, so Vader offed Palps as soon as he had the chance.

Then Vader realizes oh no, am I the Emperor now??? Vader thinks quick, trying to figure out someone who he could appoint as Emperor. They need to be smart and responsible and able to deal with crazy people and...

Cody!

Vader makes Cody the Emperor, and immediately runs off to find his missing kid.

(Cody lasts two years as Emperor before abdicating due to how much he absolutely loathes the job. He departs from the public eye and instantly vanishes. No one can find him. No one knows where he is. He goes down in history as the least hated emperor of the short-lived empire. Legend has it that he can still be seen, now and then, drinking space margaritas on the beaches of Scarif.)

But with Cody's abdication and immediate vanishment, nobody is left in charge. Power struggles are immediate and messy, and in all that chaos, some of the regular protocols are forgotten.

Such as the one maintaining Vader's life support system.

See, Palpatine didn't want Vader being operational without him, so he had something built into the suit so that it would shut down if he didn't enter a specific code every week. Cody kept it up because it was just one of those regular protocols, he didn't even know what it did, but now with the chaos, it's forgotten about.

On Lothal, Vader collapses suddenly.

Sabine would rather do anything than touch the machinery of Vader's life support system, but he's Ezra's dad and he's dying and grrrrrrh FINE SHE'LL HELP.

With some quick thinking, she gets the most essential parts of the suit to work, pauses briefly to make sure Ezra's not going to have a panic attack, and then sets to work on restoring the rest of the suit.

Sabine is horrified by the state of Vader's prosthetics. This equipment is like... 10, 15 years out of date.

Project: Repair Ezra's Dad becomes her new hobby. Vader is a begrudging participant in this project. He's just doing it because she's Ezra's friend. Well... probably his friend? He passed out before he figured out what, exactly, she was.

But once he is awake and functional, it's not long before Vader comes to the conclusion that she's SEVERAL things to Ezra, including his ride-or-die best friend, his roommate, his partner in crime, his occasional parental guidance, and his substitute moral compass.

By means of incredibly unsubtle questioning, Vader does rule the girlfriend thing out. By equally unsubtle means, he also makes it very clear to Sabine that the girlfriend thing is completely off the table in the future as well. Like forever. Hands off his son.

(That was a dinner conversation neither Sabine nor Ezra would ever like to repeat.)

Anyway, over time, Sabine and Vader get to talking. No one--especially not Ezra--knows how it happens, but Sabine and Vader actually become friends. It's kind of a terrifying idea.

(Vader attempts, with his usual unsubtle means, to gauge Ezra's opinion on potentially acquiring a sister.)

(Oddly, Ezra doesn't seem too keen on it.)

(Vader, now worried, makes a mental note to reiterate to Sabine that under no hypothetical future circumstances will she ever be allowed to date his son.)

So, yeah. Time passes. Vader just kind of... sticks around. A couple Inquisitors show up and he yells at them for interrupting bonding time with his son but he doesn't Force-choke them because it makes Ezra upset when he does.

In fact, Ezra seems to be getting upset about several things Vader does that he used to be fine with before. Vader almost wants to be mad at Sabine for giving his son a conscience, but he begins to realize that he doesn't quite like doing those things, either.

(Without the outdated, barely-functional suit tormenting him nearly every second of the day, and on a planet that shines with Light, Vader's grip on the Darkness is slipping.)

(One day, standing amid the long grasses, watching Ezra trying to show off by climbing the rock spires, Vader smiles.)

(He has not smiled in fourteen years.)

But good things don't always last, do they?

One day, on one of their vandalism missions, both of the kids go missing. Vader, filled with rage, takes his TIE and chases their kidnappers down to one of the shanty-towns.

He is seconds away from going on a murder spree when Ezra's frantic intervention stops him.

Some intimidation and a bit of mind reading later, Vader uncovers the truth. These people, it seems, got Ezra and Sabine out of a scrape, and were genuinely going to bring them back home after their stop here--or, if that didn't work out, after they went on a brief mission to free Wookiee slaves.

Vader doesn't even really notice that they were going to be freeing Wookiee slaves from the Empire.

Ever since the oozing slick of Darkness started to be washed away, Vader has felt something worryingly like pangs of conscience for what he has done in service to the Empire.

Long before he was a Sith--long before he was a Jedi--Vader was a boy who had a dream about freeing all the slaves.

"I'm coming with," he announces.

"Dad, I'm not really sure that's a good idea--"

"This is not up for discussion, son."

Oh Force, Kanan thinks. Oh Force, this is definitely a Sith Lord. There is a Sith Lord going on this mission with us to fight the Empire. what the kriff what the kriff what the kriff---

What follows is the most awkward, tense mission the Spectres have ever undertaken.

It's also, without a doubt, the easiest mission the Spectres have ever undertaken.

Vader goes all Rogue One Hallway Scene on the transport full of Stormtroopers, which Ezra frowns at him for, and Vader feels a little tiny bit bad about it.

Zeb is slightly impressed by Ezra's ability to whack stormtroopers together by their helmets without even touching them.

"Hey, Kanan, kid's like you!" he says, without thinking.

There's a long, terrified pause.

"Cockroaches," Vader huffs, pointing at Kanan in something more like annoyance than anything else. "You're like cockroaches. Squish one and three more show up. Utterly impossible to kill."

"Da-ad!" Ezra complains. "You can't kill my friends!"

"I'm not going to kill your friends. I merely said they were difficult to kill."

"Well you made it sound like a threat! And you said you wouldn't do that anymore!"

"I know. They're just like this," Sabine mutters under her breath, giving Kanan a consoling pat on the shoulder. "You get used to it, after a while."