#it started as one but became it's own thing and now i'm dragging it back into being one with my puppy-dog eyes

[all-the-bats-in-the-world]

Since someone tagged it with Logan, here it's. And I'm sorry.

Kindness Tastes Like Blood

Part 1. Where The Lost Things Meet

The darkness is getting hold of him. It's not something new, it started to reach him when he was little, when dad decided he was a play thing. That disgusting mother fucker. He's very dead now, but Wade still sees it in the back of his mind, fighting back, cutting him into pieces and giving it to some starving street dog. The dogs have always been good to him. They never liked dad, the animals know what is kind.

‘You’ll lose’ the darkness says to him, sounding like a voice he should have forgotten. And he is starting to believe it. His world is in danger, everything he cares about will die soon. He thought he could fix it. It seemed very simple, if Logan was dead, he just had to find another one to put in the place. Who would think the Wolverine was the anchor being of Wade's whole world? This is a weak script idea, sure, but also makes sense for Wade, he couldn't imagine anyone else to be this important to him. He remembers it, reading the comics he found in the trash under his bed, hiding it from dad, it was this story of this animalistic man that people tried to control and kill, a man that kept coming back and destroying everything on his way, it was this story that made him company, that made him believe someday he would be free. So, yes, he doesn't need to say he loves the Wolverine, does he? He loves him a great deal.

But the thing is, it's not reciprocated. He knows. He jumps through realities trying to find help, but he doesn't even get the chance to say that he needs him, that he's breaking, that he's desperate, they just punch him, kill him, and this is starting to pile up. ‘Nobody loves you’ the darkness decree. He knows it's not totally true, he knows people love him, Althea, Peter, Vanessa, she said it. He believes her. However, he believes love feels different, that love is not just someone who holds your hand in the bad days or puts up with you. He knows he should be glad, why is he not glad? Was what she offered not enough?

Yes. It wasn't. He knows it should be. Another punch. He's bleeding again. They used to be perfect for each other, but this was before he became a walking wound. Not, he was always like this, except now he can't just pretend anymore, he can't just joke it away. He tried, he really fucking tried. She said to him to show that he cared for something bigger than him. But everything is bigger than him, he's small. Insignificant. You see, this wasn't how love was supposed to be. Well, Wade believes love is understanding. He may be wrong.

‘Nobody will ever understand you, you are unlovable.’ He's covered in blood now, still feeling the sensation of six claws in his chest, piercing through his cursed heart. And he loses it, he throws the TemPad away in his despair, regretting it the same second, he runs and jumps to take it before it touches the floor, but ends up kicking it with his foot, then he stumbles, falling on his own face. Fuck. He cries, like the pathetic being he is.

That's when the electronic — whatever tecnologic shit it is — starts to oscillate on the floor, and bips bips bips. Did he break it? For fuckers sake! He takes it back. Doesn't look like there was any damage, he taps it, but he can't understand the coordinates on the screen. Is it another planet? Doesn't fuck look like Earth.

Suddenly a portal opens up and Wade stares at it. Something is wrong. This portal, it's not golden, it's dark, like a black hole. He feels like when he was a kid. There's a taste in his mouth, and a smell in his nose. He's dragged back to the past. He shivers, suddenly he's in the cold night, one of his feet chained. It hurts so much, but it’s better if he was outside. That was something he never told anyone. He loved the night, he loved when he got this punishment, he pretended to hate it, so that bastard would use it against him. It was a way he found to escape the molestation. It didn't work all the time, but when it worked he felt glad. Glad is a rare and strange feeling. He shivers in gladness and steps into it.

At first all he can see is profound darkness. He's not even sure his eyes are open at all. Has he gone blind? Then there's breathing, he thinks for a moment it's his own respiration, but it's not, he's not making this deep and painful noise. It's a very dark and heavy breathing that gets close with every step. Then he sees it, a subtle light, its red. Seems weird? He sees the eyes before he sees the being. It’s hard to tell its colors in the distance and in the low light. But they are bright and piercing. And unmoving, like it's not really looking at him. He moves close, and something registers, cutting through him. It's green, he realizes, like a pale forest, like a calm lake, its pupils grow, swallowing him in, in an inescapable stare. He's breathing so hard it creates little clouds in the dense air.

Wade would recognize those eyes anywhere. It's so shocking, he stops, his feet refusing to move before the vision. It's a Wolverine. Well, it seems like the TemPad was not broken, but he guesses he was not supposed to find this one, probably no one was supposed to find him. What paralyzes Wade is not just the eyes, but his appearance. The man is contained, pulled down on his knees, defeated, malnourished, the bones standing out under his skin, hes basically just bones and hair, frankly it's absurd he's still alive, well, regeneration is a fucked up thing sometimes. There is a mask on his face, metallic, it looks very much like a muzzle, and there are bright red lines, hundreds of them, connected to the collar on his neck. He's using the yellow accurate comic costume, but it's all dirty and worn out.

It's clear they left him here to die. But what a terrible way to leave this world, painfully slowly, getting weak and disappearing a little bit every day.

“What the hell happened to you?” He doesn't know this Logan, the others he knew, like just their appearances were a tell. And he still kind of feels bad for not helping the uncanny x-men Logan, but that felt like none of his business. This one though, he speaks to something deep in him. He needs to know what happened to him. There is no reaction to his question, he doubts the man will be able to talk soon, he is too debilitated to even breathe properly.

He opens the TemPad, does a little reprogrammation, why not, it's a canon divergent fic, so he can do whatever. Soon the TemPad works very much like a Pokédex, he even turns it in his direction and gets: Wade Willson, also known as Deadpool in Earth XXX, 48 years old, sagittarius, species human…

Does the TVA control Wikipedia too? Or does the author just think it was funny? Whatever. He turns the advice to Logan. His eyes are still burning on him, it's almost unbearable. The scan starts to work, then it stops, showing a glowing “restricted access”, so Wade has to do some hacker job, it's nothing, soon the information pops on the screen.

Art by Essi Välimäki

[fstbmp-a]

I love creating something that has no actual relation to a fandom and being like "oh noooo they're totally a fandom OC trust me trust me".

[pomefioredove]

Could I HCs for the headmasters (or only Riddle, Leona and Azul) reacting to one of their students asking to be transferred to ramshackle? like a small club of Yuu admirers :3

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ Yuu Admirer Club!

I misread this the first time and thought it was yuu transferring to THEIR dorms but, actually, I like this better. this is fun

summary: yuu admirer club :) type of post: headcanons characters: riddle, leona, azul, vil additional info: romantic, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu

seeing as Heartslabyul hasn't had an expulsion, transfer, or dropout since Riddle became housewarden, this comes as...

...quite a shock

he thought Ace had been joking at first

or annoying him on purpose...

and then he comes down to the lounge one morning with his bags packed and a forged letter from Crowley

despite Riddle's strong feelings towards you

(and they are strong)

he's still offended!

all of the loving and tender discipline he's given, and Ace just leaves?

well, he can't stand for that

Riddle marches to Ramshackle, ready for heads to roll, but before he can even knock, you're there, dragging Ace and his things to the door

"oh, thank goodness. TAKE HIM BACK!"

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Leona doesn't even notice that Jack has been missing until he passes the spelldrive disc at morning practice and there's no one there to catch it

more of a "huh" reaction

then he forgets about it, takes a nap, and only remembers to ask Ruggie the next morning

"he's been gone for two weeks. he moved to Ramshackle, remember?"

Ramshackle? weird choice, but okay

Jack has always been a little... strange

Leona's reaction is more or less, "huh. nice kid. oh, well,"

but after that, he starts seeing you and Jack together more and more

and he starts to feel... weirdly jealous

it's like he's rubbing it in Leona's face

taking up all your time, always making you smile and laugh...

Jack was never that funny at Savanaclaw

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

it takes Azul at least three days to start worrying about Floyd

he and his brother are known to disappear at random

then, the Mostro Lounge has to open an hour late because someone didn't show up for his morning shift

now Azul suddenly can't remember the last time he saw Floyd at the Lounge

after a brief manhunt, he finds Floyd all cozied up on your couch, in your slippers, with a mug of hot chocolate

great

"you cannot transfer dorms by avoiding your old one!"

"exemption!" Floyd says. is he also wearing your robe? "I'm simply a part of the Yuu Admirer Club"

Azul rolls his eyes

...and drags Floyd back to the lounge

after all, if there was such a club, Azul would have been the first to hear of it

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Vil can feel something is off even before Epel is late

and, as always, he's right

Epel misses curfew, and Vil sets out on a mission like a mother hen missing a chick

of course, he knows just where he's hiding

and he lets himself in unannounced

"Epel, here. now,"

the poor boy looks like he's seen a ghost

you're not even involved in the conversation, but Vil's tone alone is enough to send a chill down your spine

"but- but- I got permission! this is the Yuu Admirer Club!"

Vil, of course, has no patience for this

"I gave you no such permission, and there is no such club,"

you can admire them on your own time like the rest of us, he thinks

luckily, Epel is saved

he's not the only member of the club, after all

"now, judge not so quick, dear Roi du Poison! does our admiration for our Trickster not exemplify that of a club?"

"wh- Rook?"

[yawnderu]

Simon lets out a deep chuckle as he sees your daughter pick flowers from the light, clean grass, her tiny hands barely even managing to gather enough strength to get the stems out of the ground.

“C'mon, that's enough.” His voice is patient, calloused hands picking his daughter up as he brings her up to his chest, a small smile when he sees her holding onto the flowers for dear life, giggles leaving her lips as he starts bouncing her while they walk.

It became a routine, in a way, for Simon to bring his daughter whenever he visits his family. She's too young to understand, so pure, so untainted from the dangers of the world, always kept safe by Simon and you, yet he can't fight off the urge to make his family see her.

He walks for a few minutes, enjoying the chilly air while his daughter cuddles up to him, one of her tiny hands gripping his jacket, while the other one is still holding onto the flowers. He stops in front of a set of four graves, the familiar pit of dread setting deep within him starts to come out, shaky hands managing to gently put the little girl down on the cold ceramic.

Mrs. Riley.

If love could have saved you, you would have lived forever.

Simon was hiding his hurt quite well, managing to sit down next to his little girl, one hand on her back as she started crawling around, finally setting the flowers down.

“Mum?” His voice is quiet, almost cracking, as if he was the scared little boy his mother defended with her life. His daughter looks up at him with curious brown eyes, sitting down and entertaining herself with her own onesie.

“I remember telling you I'd never settle down because I could never get as lucky as Tommy and Beth...” He dragged out, gaze going down to the ring on his finger, the physical representation of your union.

“You've met my wife before, and now I want you to see my kid too.” He's barely managing to speak, words coming out rough and choked up as his hand caresses his daughter's thin hair, making him pause just to examine her features. She's a tiny carbon copy of him, a lovely nose and a set of brown eyes that will never see the horrors he lived.

“She's a proper daddy's girl, but you would've loved each other.” He's sure of it. His mum was always so lovely, so nurturing. A true angel on earth with way too much forgiveness and patience for her own good.

He picks his daughter up, planting a soft kiss on her forehead. Simon thought he cried all his tears when he was a little boy, yet his nose is starting to sting, vision getting blurry for a few seconds until a choked sob manages to escape his lips. He's quick to wipe any tears away, simply trying to focus on the peace and quiet the cemetery offers, his hand running up and down his daughter's back, patting it softly just to hear that little giggle that seems to always repair his broken soul.

“All of you would've loved her, shy little thing she is.” He sniffles again before a quiet laugh leaves his lips, smiling despite the way his eyes are still filled with tears threatening to spill at any moment.

“I'm quittin' the SAS soon, don't want her to grow up without a father. The wife's happy about it, too.” Simon lets out a small sigh, looking down at the graves of his family, all buried next to each other. He shakes his head softly, his free hand quickly wiping off his tears before he goes back to holding his daughter, rocking her with care.

“I'll come back with her next time, jus' wanted to talk to you today. Let you meet this lovely girl.” Big brown eyes meet his gaze, instantly cheering him up despite everything. He pinches his cheek softly only for the little girl to smack his hand away with a giggle, only making his smile grow wider at how hot-heated she is. Just like her mother.

[flightyalrighty]

FIRST | PREVIOUS | NEXT CH 1 PG 36

Infested will return on June 27th. --- Thank you to the following Ascended supporters: @chaogongoozles, @fiiresiidefrfr, @elizard4227, @grogar, Ezzoh, @susivoi, @calculuscacophony, Eros, @ivycorp, @summersdale @borrelia, @mizukiz, @sanicdetails, @combinegrunt-echo-1, Pica, @veeceear, @quackenburt, ItsmeMonarch, @memendoemori, @trans-girl-sonic, & savarsenic

Content Warnings | Store | Ko-Fi (Discord!) | Read On Comic Fury! DISCLAIMER: "Infested" is a horror comic ft. content not suitable for those under the age of 17.

A long-winded looking back on things below the cut:

The first few pages of Infested were uploaded to this blog on March 2nd, 2023 -- Over a whole year ago! I was so busy, too, that I completely missed its birthday (Sorry Infested). Looking even further back than that, the original story was was something I began writing on December 25th, 2022 (Merry Christmas).

It took two years to get to this point.

And hey, not to toot my own horn about it, but completing even one chapter of a webcomic is a big deal. Especially for me. My first webcomic, Fight/Flight, didn't get very far. I completed the prologue, started Chapter 1, and then had to drop it for a number of reasons (I didn't really agree with what baby-me had to say, politically, anymore).

This comic was born from a lot of intense feelings. The story, itself, too. Some good. Some bad.

I had been forced to move away from my hometown, and with that move, I lost the physical connection that I had to all of my friends. I lost the familiarity of a place I'd known for most of my life. I'm now stuck somewhere... Worse. It felt like a cage. Still does. Disconnected from the life I thought I would be living after college. I didn't have health insurance, either -- Got kicked off of it because of the move -- And as a result, I was off my antidepressants.

So there I was, at a pretty low point in my life. I miserable and lonely and every single day dragged on. And on. And on. And I felt so disappointed in myself. That disappointment became self-loathing, and it all kinda spiraled.

Have I mentioned that I'm a huge Sonic fan? I don't think I need to. I'd say it's pretty obvious. But for the sake of this story, I'll say it again: I'm a HUGE Sonic fan. I've been that way since 2003 with Sonic Heroes. The franchise has been in my life for over two decades. I had a monthly mail subscription to Archie's Sonic the Hedgehog. Sonic the Hedgehog was something that I truly loved more than any other piece of media. It brought me endless joy. Until I didn't.

I had dropped Sonic after Lost World was... Itself. I had already felt pretty irritated with the Meta Era, and Lost World was the final straw. The last bit of hope that the series could recover was snuffed out when Forces was released. It was over. I was done. If Sonic was truly that embarrassed by itself, if they had truly lost touch with what made the series so great, then I wouldn't waste my time any longer. I was so sure that I had to just... Grieve and move on. My beloved childhood game series was dead. Long live the king or whatever. I'd just bitterly read IDW Sonic and think about what could've been. I was lucky to have that comic, at least. Archie had been canceled, too, after all. I was lucky to have my scraps.

Then Sonic Frontiers came out. And it changed everything.

And my god, it was everything. It was everything to me. Flaws be damned, it was everything. To. Me. The spectacle. The serious tone. The vastly improved writing. Kellin Fucking Quinn. It was FUN! It was actually FUN to PLAY. He was back. I was back. Sonic pulled me by my hand out of the ocean of misery I'd fallen into, and he looked me in my eye and he said;

"Hey. You're gonna be alright."

Metaphorically speaking. Sonic The Hedgehog didn't actually literally speak to me -- And sure, okay, maybe it's a little dramatic to describe a game as this great Depression Annihilator but I'm dead serious when I say that, for that time, before I was able to get back on my meds, I was self-medicating with Sonic.

Sonic was all I was thinking about. I reread the Unleashed arc in Archie Sonic, which got me sorta realizing something, and which led to my post where I said something along the lines of "Sonic would hide a zombie bite."

Archie Sonic would, at least. Because he basically did do that in the Unleashed arc of that comic. He let that problem fester until it became an even bigger problem because, ironically, he didn't want to be a problem.

So one thing led to another. I thought more about Sonic becoming a zombie. Bada-bing, bada-boom, Infested was born.

I didn't expect it to get the attention that it did. I felt lucky when the first page I drew Rouge on (Page 6 I think?) blew up. The right people saw it at the right time. I'm extremely grateful for that.

I'm extremely grateful for all of you.

So yeah, one chapter. Woo! Here's to many more.

[jesswritesthat]

Atsumu Miya: Second Choice

Fandom: Haikyuu!! — [ Masterlist ]

Summary: ~2.2k, fluff

• You were never first choice, so it comes as a surprise when he notices your presence before anyone else.

Warnings: None

>>>>——————————>

It was always the same, you'd watched as people flocked to beauty, straight past you every time. In reality when you became friends with Sachiko it was because she had a great personality, you couldn't have possibly predicted she'd become the most beautiful and popular girl in school by the time you'd reached Inarizaki High.

Regardless of her sparkling status, she remained your best friend and you'd usually be found together throughout the school premises along with anyone else who joined you at the start of first year.

When the Volleyball team grew more intoxicating, it was Sachiko who'd excitedly dragged you along to one of their home training matches. It's where you first laid eyes upon the famous Miya twins, a vicious team of spiker and setter with a serve worthy of award among them. Already they had personal fans and the cheer squad screaming their praises, you're surprised they didn't get mauled in the hallways.

Now you'd seen them, you recognised them in school and they apparently had space to breathe aside from the odd confession here and there. You'd regularly seen that with Sachiko though, she'd often be either pulled to the side or you'd bear witness to some lovestruck soul gushing their heart out for her.

It was humbling in a way, you were the one who goes unnoticed but notices everything. Including if feelings were reciprocated, and you're certain you deducted gossip before it even became that, you'd been getting accurate in predicting things lately. However, you never predicted one of them to notice you.

Especially him.

"Hey, ya in one of my classes right?" In honesty you didn't even realise it was you this voice was addressing since Sachiko lingered by your side, not until a careful tap drew your attention to the blonde twin rather than your locker.

"Huh? Oh I think so, it hasn't been long enough to learn everyone's name yet. You're the volleyball player though."

"Ah, have ya seen me play? Like it?" His head tilted in curiosity, proud smirk upon his lips.

"You were really good, you have great form when you serve." With that you nodded to him, slipping on your shoes and walking off with your best friend quickly following in tow.

"Woah— wait up!" You didn't even look back in the swarm of leaving students. "I didn't get yer name..."

———

It wasn't until a week or so later did he 'confidently' interact with you again, this time his call far more effective in hailing your attention.

"(L/n) (Y/n)!"

Immediately you spun to the origin, finding none other than Miya Atsumu dodging a group of fangirls rather effortlessly on his way to you.

"You know my name."

"Yeah 'course. You know who I am so it's only fair." It was surefire charisma, one you'd soon extinguish.

"Miya Osamu isn't it?"

"Ye—Hey?! YA GOTTA BE KIDDIN'!"

"'Tsumu shut ya mouth!" The namesake twin glared harshly at his counterpart, quickly flashing a calmer look when you'd addressed him.

"Ah, hey Miya-san. I apologise, that was my fault for winding your brother up."

"Dumbass has control of his own mouth." Osamu politely assured, meanwhile Atsumu reclaimed your peripheral with a childish pout.

"So ya knew ma name all along and decided to be freakin' mean about it? On our second meetin' too."

"I couldn't resist, you're so cute when you're mad."

"I'm— oh ya think I'm cute?" Atsumu stammered slightly, your smirk only widening upon noting the crimson tips of his ears. Honesty leaving your lips soon after.

"I think you're both handsome, as does a majority of the school body. See you Miya-san and Miy—"

"Call me Atsumu!"

"See you in class, Atsumu." You actually looked back this time, an unfamiliar and unexpected feeling flourishing within you.

———

Part of you wandered if it’d be different this time, maybe you’d found someone who was there for you and not Sachiko. Just this once. You’d spoken more in class, studied together, traded snacks, and genuinely became friends over the course of two months.

Ironically it was the same blonde who tugged you from your reverie at the your locker where you’d first spoken.

"Yer friends with Sachiko aren't ya?"

This was it, the moment you realised he was just like all others and for the first time in a long while, you were truly disappointed.

"Yes I am, and she is amazing."

"I'm aware, could ya introduce me?" He’d spoked so casually, completely unawares of the charade you donned.

"What? Too scared to introduce yourself?" Atsumu was taken aback by your mockery, smirk growing as you persisted. "She doesn't bite y'know, that's my job."

This was the second time you'd left him speechless, slamming your locker door and disappearing into the halls with a wave.

From then on you'd see them happily talking to one another, it was hard seeing them together, amusing considering you'd only known the blonde not even half the year, yet you'd liked him more than you considered possible.

The first time you'd walked into the classroom finding the pair conversing at her desk, it was like Atsumu was desperately trying to convince her of something. It was only for a brief moment but when the setter turned to see you with a suddenly concerned look, you realised you hadn't worn a facade. You were meant to smile, instead you must've looked saddened - briskly you offered a weak smirk, and span to leave the room with additional flare as to minimise suspicion.

You’d only made it three steps down the hallway when a grasp on your wrist limited your escape.

"Hey you okay?"

"Yes? Why wouldn't I be?" Came your upbeat response, even if he portrayed a careful worrisome look on his handsome features.

"Ya... ya looked upset."

"Really? Are you sure?"

"I'm observant y'know, gotta be fer volleyball so yeah, I noticed your little slip." He was more forward this time, gesturing to you with a tilt of his head - even if he was head over heels for Sacchan, at least he still genuinely cared about you.

"It's nothing, just realised I've got a test today and that's depressing enough." You thought it was acceptably convincing, though the calculating gaze he'd locked onto yours made you reconsider.

“(Y/n) I know I can be annoyin’ but I’ll do anything I can to help y—“

“I’m fine.” You instantly corrected, reaffirmation following. “I’m fine, Atsumu.”

A gentle pat on his chest told him not to worry, and the nod you gave said you wanted to be alone. So, he let you walk away, your wrist slipping from his grip.

———

Even weirder than the smitten pair hanging out was that your conversations with Sachiko seemed to revolve around him too. Which by your deductions, meant he’d certainly made more of an impression on her than anyone else recently. Maybe Atsumu really had a shot with her…

"Atsumu is so hot isn't he?"

"I guess he keeps in shape, he has to if he wants to improve his skills."

"Uh yes... his hair suits him though, brings out the colour of his eyes~" She gleamed, searching for your reaction and once more her face dramatically dropped at the deadpan reply.

"Makes him easier to differentiate from Osamu."

"True, but I'm asking if you find him attractive?!" Her impatience had gotten the better of her, voice raised slightly out of desperation.

"Isn't that a question you should ask yourself? I haven't heard you go on about a boy this much since middle school." You quipped, raising a quizzical brow at her.

"It's not like th—"

"Oh hey! Sachiko, (Y/n), you wanna come to practice today?" Atsumus’ hollering tone interrupted the conversation, the blonde strolling into your classroom like he belonged there.

"Yes, we'd love to." Sachiko of course was ecstatic to agree, why would she say no since he’s ’so attractive’. Yourself on the other hand had replicated the Thor meme perfectly…

"Would we though?"

"Yeah ya would! C'mon~" You hadn't the chance to protest further when Atsumus' hands clamped your shoulders steering you in the direction of the gymnasium with a giggling Sachiko skipping behind.

———

When Atsumu had asked you to meet him after school before practice started toward the end of the year, you expected something food related or about homework answers, not whatever this was.

Here he stood, flowers in hand and apparently a homemade bento box offered to you with a growing blush painting his handsome features and an aura of flustering about him which was unusual in itself.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm— isn't it obvious?!"

"I have literally no idea what's going through your thick skull, Sachiko will like the flowers though." You answered honestly, crossing your arms.

"They're not for her!"

"Oh... Suna...?"

Atsumus brows furrowed at your wit, shaking his head with a huff.

"Alright ya got me, they're for Sachiko. Yer gonna deliver them since yer her best friend. Thanks and make sure ya eat some of the bento 'cuz there's stuff yer will like in it. Later!" He basically threw the flowers at you and pushed the bento box into your chest prior to storming toward the exit.

You stood dumbfounded, flicking between the two items when he placed his forehead against the door with a defeated sigh and spun on his heel.

“Go! Go on, the team are here and I don’t want ya getting hit with a face full of leather and petals.” He’d stubbornly commented, ushering you out of the gym.

Still, you shouldered your sadness, wearing false confidence like your favourite outfit as you went to find your friend (completely oblivious to the embarrassed mess whining to his teammates inside).

Sachiko squealed when she saw you, leaving her work unattended and rushing to your side admiring your haul.

"It finally happened! Oh my goodness!"

"Yeah yeah, blondie came through congratulations." You boredly spoke, placing the items down whilst she basically vibrated with pure joy.

"Congratulations indeed! Are you happy?"

"Eh. He did say we should share the lunch."

"That's... weird?" Sachikos’ prior energy disappeared as she looked to you in confusion.

"I know, that's what I thought. Apparently there's things I like in it."

"Well obviously. Atsumu made it for you."

"No, he made it for you."

A moment of silence passed, yourself and Sachiko locked in a puzzled stare off.

"Nah, let's be honest, Osamu probably made it~" You dismissively waved your hand once placing the items on her desk, although it was only you who found humour in the situation.

"No (Y/n) I'm serious! Atsumu has been asking me about you and your preferences for months and I've been super excited about it. He even wanted me to find out if you liked him or not —of course IF I found out, I would've kept it to myself— but he really likes you."

"I thought he was into you, I mean everyone is into you." You adamantly justified, as if it explained everything but Sachiko was just as passionate.

"Not him, why do you think he keeps asking you to practices or bugging you every 5 minutes?"

"To get close to you? I don't know."

"No! To get close to you!"

Widened eyes and a look of pure shock told Sachiko her words had finally resonated with you, the truth burned brightly and she could only smile as you ran.

Abandoned were the flowers as you dashed through the halls and came to a skidding halt before the gymnasium - fingertips hesitantly pausing against the door upon hearing Atsumus' cursing whines.

"I didn't even get to say! They just ran off to Sachiko!"

“Ya literally said ‘Go’.” Osamus voice maybe?

“Yeah well, I don’t ever wanna walk away from (Y/n), but it feels like they’re always walking away from me…” Atsumu trailed off, more emotion than you thought lacing his words.

"Maybe ya shouldn't have lied?" That was definitely Arans’ blunt advisory tone.

"I had no choice! They were lookin' at me with their stupid pretty eyes and askin' if it was for Sacchan and I didn't wanna disappoint 'em."

"Yer an idiot." Osamu gladly highlighted, the perfect moment to walk in and make your presence known you decided.

"I know! But—"

"Atsumu?" At the sound of your call, the entity of the team turned in your direction, the setter being the first to respond.

"Huh?! (Y/n) what are you doing here?"

Osamu and the rest of Inarizaki seemed to understand the underlying tension and were quick to evacuate the area.

"I came to tell you that Sachiko liked the flowers." You awkwardly started, Atsumu running fingers through his hair with a quiet voice.

"Oh, right."

"As did I, and I think I'd like to get you something in return."

"Eh?"

"She told me what was going on." You filled in, hands behind your back fiddling with your fingers.

"She's lying! I do not like you at all, let alone find you attractive or anything!"

Much like you predicted, he'd jumped to conclusions and had inadvertently dropped himself in it and exposed the truth Sachiko had enclosed which earned your witty reply.

"Funny, I never mentioned anything about liking me. That’s good to know~"

"Wait— then what?" Atsumu defused, utterly confused and blushing.

"And it's a shame, I was about to confess my feelings for you but I see there's no need since you 'don't like me at all'." You shrugged haphazardly, a hint of sarcasm lacing your tone but it was your statement that revitalised his spark. Enough to abruptly skid in front of you with a commendable justification when you’d started to turn around.

"You still can, nothin' to lose and all that." A half smile was sent to you, hazel eyes meeting yours. “And please, don’t walk away from me this time.”

"I didn’t want— I mean I—“ A wistful sigh escaped you, confession imminent. “I really like you Atsumu, you're both an incredible player and a cool person so I’m glad I got to tell you that.”

“I like ya too (Y/n)! So much, and I feel more confident playing when ya come and watch. Yer smile really hypes me up y’know. If yer up for it, I’d love to spend more time with ya.”

"Yeah, I’d like that."

—

That evening, he’d offered to walk you home and there was still one thing you wanted to say after all that.

“Hey Atsumu?” A hum signified his attention. “Thank you for noticing me."

"Noticing ya?"

"Yeah, I just… I appreciate it."

"No I mean, noticing ya? I haven't noticed anyone else since I met ya."

<——————————<<<<

[ Masterlist ]

[ghostofhyuck]

NCT Dream when you accidentally burn yourself but you two are not talking to each other. 

Mark Lee

Mark hears a loud scream and the pot falling down. As he reached the kitchen, he sees you teary-eyed with your hands red. He approaches you and you flinched at his presence. But he only gave you a small smile, grabbing your wrist and bringing you to his room, Mark grabs his burnt ointment from his drawer, approaches you and gently treats it. You watched as he gently taps the ointment to your burn and after that, he only gave you a nod, telling you to be careful next time. 

Huang Renjun

Renjun finds you screaming strings of curses in the kitchen with the pot on floor. He lets out a sigh, telling you to get out of the kitchen, and take care of your wound. You told him that you need to cook, given that it was the start of your argument with him, (who's going to cook) but he insisted that you need a time out. And before you could argue, Renjun drags you to the living room, grabs the ointment and then started tending it, you only became quiet and as Renjun finished, he looks at you gently, apologizing that you ended up hurting yourself. 

Lee Jeno

The good thing was that, Jeno was in the kitchen when you accidentally touched the pot without a hand mitten. Jeno was quick to approached you, grabbing your wrist and running it through the tap water. He tells you to stay put and even though you two are in a silent treatment after an argument, you followed his instructions. Jeno returns with an ointment, immediately tending it. You watched as he gently massaged your burn and as he finishes it, Jeno kisses your burn and then looks at you, "I'm sorry, because of me, you got hurt." 

Lee Donghyuck

Haechan finds you in the kitchen running your hands on the tap water, he approaches you and sees that your hands were burning red. He started nagging you, telling you that you're not being careful and what will happen to you if you're not being careful. His words went on until you burst and started arguing with him as if you two didn't argued earlier. Haechan gave up first, leaves you and when you thought that he left you alone, he returns, slamming the burn ointment on the kitchen counter. 

Na Jaemin

Jaemin only realized that you burn yourself when you're trying to find the ointment while searching it with only one hand. He grabs your wrist and saw how huge the burn was, he made you sit on the couch and found the ointment all by himself. As he returns, he tends your wound but he started nagging you, telling you that you're not being careful and what will happen if things got worst. Overwhelmed by everything, you couldn't help but to cry, making your boyfriend stop, pulling you to a hug and apologizing for nagging you and having an argument with you earlier. 

Zhong Chenle

"Look at you, you can't do a thing without me," Chenle teases sassily. You know that you two are having a silent treatment because of an argument earlier, but you accidentally burn your hand when the pot holder broke. Now Chenle's tending your burn and he's been teasing you nonstop ever since you two started. "If you're just going to tease me, I'm fine tending my own wound," you said snatching your hand away. "No! no, I'm sorry, come on now, I'll shut up now," Chenle apologizes, grabbing your hands again. 

Park Jisung

You were in daze because of an argument with your boyfriend earlier that you didn't realized that you touched the holder without any mittens. You let out a sharp hiss but it was enough to alert Jisung. Your boyfriend went to the kitchen and finds you holding your burnt hand. As he approaches you, he stood there awkwardly, not knowing what to do given that you are two are not talking to each other. He wanted to ask if you're okay but his tongue is holding him back. You two had a small staring contest before he give up, grabs you and then drags you to his room so that he can tend your wound. 

[kingkat12]

affair (roman godfrey x reader)

WARNINGS: 18+, piv sex, oral sex (female receiving), dub-con, Roman using his powers for bad shit, angst, cheating, toxic relationship, justice for Peter omg

summary: when your ex-boyfriend shows up at your door, how are you supposed to push him away?

word count: 5,136

"No, please!-- We need to talk!" 

Roman forced a foot in my door to make sure I wouldn't close it on him. He was wet from the rain, his usually styled hair sticking to his forehead as he panted, desperately pleading for me to hear him out. "I made a huge mistake," he breathed, regret glossing over his green eyes. "Could you please just hear me out?"

This was definitely not the most ideal situation to be in-- my boyfriend, Peter, had just left my apartment to go home and get ready for his early shift, so I had gotten ready for bed. And I certainly wouldn't be dressed in my pyjamas and slippers had I known that my ex would show up at my door looking beyond frantic. My mind raced with uncertainty, filled with endless questions and doubt; what was he doing here? Was he drunk? Why was he doing this now, after two months of being broken up? "You-- You need to go," I didn't have the time or energy to deal with the mess Roman always dragged back into my life, especially now that I was finally happy with someone else.

Worst of all, I knew for a fact that Roman had someone else too. I knew he was seeing some woman with long, blonde hair whom I refused to stalk for my own good, so why on earth was he here? The question lingered in my mind, but I had to remind myself about the one thing I had the answer to at the moment; I needed to close the door on him now. 

Upon hearing my words of rejection and feeling the door press up on his foot in an attempt to force him out, Roman wedged his arm between the door. "Let me explain," he pleaded, chest heaving. "I just ran seventeen blocks in the fucking rain to see you, could you at least spare me a minute?"

As if that was enough of a justification to show up out of the blue? "No one asked you to do that. I certainly did not," To say that I was pissed off was an understatement, but Roman's pleading eyes were making me sick with guilt. He looked like a lost puppy of sorts, and it was certainly not helping my restraint. The hand I had on my doorknob felt like it was starting to lose blood because of how hard I was holding on-- I couldn't let him in. I shouldn't let him in. 

"I know," Roman eventually said, moving his wet hair out of his eyes. "I know you don't want to see me, but I just... I needed to see you."

"... I think you should go back to your girlfriend," I started to push at his shoe with my slipper, preparing to slam the door in his face. "You shouldn't be here."

It didn't take long for Roman to figure out what I was doing, and it became apparent that he wasn't going to go down without a fight. It didn't take much strength for him to grab the door, forcing it wide open, staring down at me with a damning look of desperation I hadn't seen in any man before. "Just a minute," he breathed. "Please let me say my piece. If I don't, I swear I'll die."

I didn't enjoy this one bit-- coming to my doorstep, threatening to die if I didn't comply? I had forgotten how manipulative he could be. Being with Peter had shown me that Roman's behavior in our relationship had been beyond toxic, and I could see it clearer than ever as he stood before me now. "You're not going to fucking die," I grumbled, feeling myself grow annoyed with how he was throwing himself back into my life, completely uninvited. "Roman, it's almost midnight, maybe this manic behaviour of yours will go away with a good night of sleep?"

Frustrated, Roman tapped his fingers against the door. "Now you're just making it hard, as always,"

"And you're being crazy, as always," I mumbled, shifting my weight from foot to foot, a sense of restlessness taking over my stance. "Could you please leave? We did this back-and-forth thing months ago, I'm not interested in doing it all over again."

In true Roman fashion, standing face to face with rejection, he didn't know what to say or do. I could recognize his patterns now that we weren't together, and it was so damn typical of him to attempt to distract me from what was making me mad; "I remember those," he said, nodding toward my slippers. "Good to see you've kept them."

I knew he was distracting me, so why did it work? Sighing, I shrugged; "They were expensive... Wasn't going to throw them away just because you picked them out,"

Letting go of the door, knowing he had tranquilized the danger of getting it slammed in his face, Roman leaned against the frame in a James Dean-esque fashion. He let out a dragged-out breath, eyes rounding out; "I've missed you,"

His words snapped me out of my daze, and I immediately pulled away from the door with a groan. "Ugh, Roman, you need to go!" I turned my back to him, walking further into my apartment, my instincts telling me to get as far away as possible. "I'm finally happy with Peter, and you have no right to show up at my door just because you're bored!--" My trail of words came to a halt as I suddenly heard my door close; I knew I was fucked in an instant. My heart trembled at the recognition of the sound of the lock turning, realizing I was in for a long night. Fuck. I turned around, holding my breath, watching as he took wary steps towards me. 

"One minute," Roman said, voice low and unsteady. "That's all I ask." 

"No!" I took a few steps back, not daring to get too close. "You can't be here! This is completely inappropriate, Roman, I have a boyfriend! And I know you have a girlfriend too, along with a huge fucking drinking problem!" 

Roman sighed, a silent declaration of his frustration. "I'm not drunk," he said, gaze falling to the floor. "I just... I've come to realize that I can't live like this anymore. I want to be with you."

I clenched my fists tightly in a futile attempt to quell my agitation, but my hands continued to shake. "That's too bad," I said, a sinking feeling taking hold and clinging to me. "I'm not doing this with you again. I'm not getting up in the middle of the night to look for you, wondering whether you're either dead or drunk in some alley. Not when I have Peter."

Exhaustion drugged Roman's movements, every movement slow, every breath. It was clear that the mention of Peter was an unpleasant reminder that we were over; his shoulders slumped, the weight of guilt settling upon them. "I haven't had a drink since the day you left me," he said, his sincere eyes finding mine. "I want to be good for you... I want you. Every second of every day." 

At this point, I had taken so many steps back that I had hit the wall. It was getting a little harder to breathe, and I ended up hyperventilating-- I couldn't do this. I could still feel Peter on my shirt. Everything about this was wrong. "You need to stop," I breathed, stepping away from the wall and wandering further into my living room as I grew restless. "Please stop. Don't do this to me."

To my dismay, Roman only followed; "I'll leave her," he pleaded. "I'll leave her if you tell me to, I'll do whatever you want! I should've fought for us, I should've done so many things that I didn't do... It keeps me up at night that I let you go. I can't sleep, I can't function, I need you to know how this pains me!"

"No, I don't need to know that!" My steps came to a halt, and I pivoted on the heel of my slipper to face him. "You put me through hell, and now think you can just show up like this! Don't you think I have enough emotional baggage from you? You think I don't have enough or something, so you come here to unload some more? What the fuck am I to you, a loading dock?!"

Roman let out a harsh sigh; "Is that a serious question?" he asked, brows weaving together in frustration. "You are everything. I see that now!"

I was already exhausted from the day I had just had, and I barely had any energy left to fight with Roman. This was what we did-- we fought, we fucked, then we made up. However, this time was completely different, and it was throwing me off my course; we couldn't fuck and make up this time. But it was clear that he hadn't shown up to fight, so what on earth was this?

"Well, it's too damn late!" I groaned loudly, hiding my face in the palm of my hands. This was way too overwhelming. When the love of your life shows up at your door telling you everything you've ever wanted to hear, you want to rejoice-- not cry? My eyes burned with the tears that begged to be set free, distorting my vision as I lifted my face from my hands, unveiling that I was swimming in tears. "Do you not see what you do to me?" I breathed, sniffling. "Did you come here to drive me to tears? Do you have no remorse, Roman?"

Roman's lips parted, the worried look on his face revealing everything, his concern written all over. In the quiet moments that followed, the only sound was the echoing resonance of regret filling the space between us with its haunting presence. Our unsaid words were scattered in the air, and it felt like I was suffocating from every apology he could muster up. 

"Let me be happy," I begged, swallowing hard. "Leave now and let me forget. I'm happy with Peter... Please."

It was clear that Roman was debating whether or not to comply. His conscience was gnawing at him-- I knew him well enough to be able to spot the signs. I hated how familiar he was, how it felt like we hadn't been apart at all, like it was yesterday that he had made me feel things I never knew I could feel. The feeling of pure bliss had been like a drug that Roman constantly pumped into me, making me a complete and utter junkie. It had resulted in me falling for him despite how beyond bad he was for me. 

I remembered it all too well. The binge drinking that would go on for days, which often had him disappearing off of the face of the earth. His wandering green eyes used to leave me with such crippling anxiety, I would spend hours crying with a lingering feeling of nausea in my throat. He used to make me so, so sick in every possible way, and my body remembered it better than I did. 

However, I could also sense that something had changed. Here he was; standing in my living room, drenched in rain, clinging onto his last slivers of hope, and I knew I was in for a good run of Roman-mania. 

Of course he would come back to claim what he thought was his. Of course he'd be arrogant enough to believe it would be okay, that I would take him back, and that it would be completely alright for him to come towards me with rushed steps, kissing me with desperation that I had never felt from him before.

Our bodies were pressed together heatedly, Roman's hands on my waist keeping me in place. I could taste our shared nervous breaths, feel the thud of my heart against his, and it was all too much-- I pushed him off of me, tears pooling in my eyes as they streaked down my cheeks. "No!" I cried, my words getting choked. I couldn't believe what he had just done; my heart was actively breaking at the thought of Peter, the loveliest boyfriend I had ever had. I couldn't do this to him. "Roman, you can't just!--"

I hated the warmth that spread in my chest as Roman pulled me back in, sparks igniting in the pool of my stomach as his impossibly perfect lips moved against mine once more. I balled my fist, landing a firm hit against his chest, fighting the ecstasy that always followed any kiss from Roman. But his grip around me was impossibly tight, not letting me budge. You'd think he'd been starved for months with the way he was kissing me with hunger unmatched any other moment I'd ever shared with him, completely taking my breath away. Like this, I could almost believe that I had been on his mind in every waking moment, ravaging through his veins like a burning ache-- I couldn't lie and say that he hadn't been on my mind either.

No one could match Roman; not even my sweet, sweet Peter. I hated it with every fiber of my being. 

The only thing I hated more, was that I never wanted him to stop. 

"No," I cried against his lips, my fingers gripping his wet shirt, bunching it up, unsure whether to pull him closer or push him away once more. Was it maybe that he sensed how much I wanted this too that made him allow himself to continue?

Lightning struck in the distance, illuminating my apartment with a flash as my tears rolled down, mixing in with our kiss. No matter how wrong I knew this was, it felt like my soul was slowly leaving my body and giving itself to him once more; I knew I was dealing with a force outside of anything I could ever control. The love I had for Roman was all-consuming, crushing, devastating-- I could barely bring myself to fight him. "Stop," I breathed in between kisses. "Don't, Roman--"

My breath hitched as I realized my back was now pressed against the wall, and Roman pulled away barely an inch; I could feel the soft tickle of his breath beneath my nose, his fingers now moving through my hair as we breathed each other in. "Leave him," he whispered against my lips. "Let's try again."

My heart had become like melted wax in my chest, making it painful to breathe. "We'll crash and burn all over again," I breathed, feeling the salty traces of my tears on my lips. "We'll kill each other, you know this."

"Let me die by your hand, then," Roman connected our foreheads, closing his eyes. Like this, I could almost believe him, I really could-- he had actually missed me, hadn't he? "A death by you would be a death worth dying."

I felt my lower lip quiver in a sob; I wanted him more than anything in the world, and I had an inkling that he knew it better than I did. I couldn't allow myself to feel all the feelings I had bottled up in our time apart, knowing it would break me and lead me right back into his arms. 

But Roman was insistent-- "I love you," He whispered it as though it was a secret he had been keeping for a thousand years. I could barely accept that this was real; the words I had wanted from him our whole relationship were being spilled out like a consolation for my pain. 

I knew there was no reason for me to fight anymore; Roman knew me too well. He knew that this was all I had ever dreamed to hear, and he knew exactly how to use it against me. Unsure whether he was telling the truth or not, the emotions I had let fester deep within came rushing through the floodgates, making it impossible to do anything but feel; the love I had for him, the feelings that had never left me, the burning sensation of need and hope coursing through my veins. 

So, I didn't fight him when he kissed me once more. I didn't fight the arm he snaked around my waist, pulling me flush against him, and I didn't fight the rush I got from finally being reunited with him in this way; I had wanted his back mouth against mine since the second we were over. 

My conscience gnawed at me as Roman pressed himself up against me, but my guilt didn't hinder me from letting my fingers run through his wet hair, giving in to the engulfing infatuation I had with him. As his hungry kisses moved down my jawline and to my neck, I dared to inhale a shaky breath; I was getting dizzy from the rush of feeling him close to me like this, grabbing my waist, running his hands up my body as though he had no self-control at all. 

The inner corners of my brows turned up, giving in to the crushing feeling of relief and sadness, closing my eyes as I held him tightly against me. There was so much I wanted to say, to do, but I couldn't bring myself to push him away-- not when it felt this good. Not when his hands dipped beneath my shirt, grazing at my bare skin, drinking me in as though I was water. It didn't take long for Roman to get my shirt off of me, and I could taste our shared breath along with the thud of our combined heartbeat as it got tossed to the floor.

Roman's fingers pressed themselves into my skin, getting reacquainted after our time apart. I hadn't realized that I was tracing my hands up and down his arms, mindlessly relishing in the familiarity; I had missed him dearly, and I couldn't bring myself to lie about it any longer. My hands went back up into his hair as he kissed down my chest, my breaths getting short and choppy as I allowed myself to bask in the feeling of his lips against my body. 

"We shouldn't," I tried, the memory of my boyfriend lingering in the back of my mind.

Roman hummed against my skin, now kneeling before me. He grasped at my hips as he pressed a wet kiss against my lower abdomen, making my breath hitch. "Push me away, then," he murmured, his wet tongue tracing where he had just kissed me; it was impossible not to shiver. 

He knew he had control. He knew, that bastard knew so well-- I couldn't push him away. I was never able to do it before, so how was I supposed to do it now? I felt my tears dry up, the familiar ache between my legs pooling, threatening to run over. As if by instinct, my hips rose from the walls, begging for him to finally do something. 

Roman's grip on my hips tightened, pushing me back in place. Something about the growing smirk on his face had me questioning everything; what was I doing? Was this just a ploy for him to get laid? A big, dark part of me didn't care at this point. The fingers I had in his hair loosened as he hooked his fingers in my pyjama pants, dragging them down with a satisfied look on his face. Roman wasted no time, humming as he leaned forward to press a keening kiss against my dampening underwear.

My breath hitched, my back arching off the wall in a knee-jerk reaction-- I had missed this more than I should've. There was no passion like this with Peter, although he was sweet and considerate. But Roman was so all-taking, so consuming, I couldn't do anything other than let him do whatever he wanted to do to me. He pulled my underwear to the side, laving his tongue against me as I whimpered, tasting me. Roman's big hands grabbed my leg, forcing it over his shoulder, pushing himself closer to my sex with an aching need. 

"Roman," I tried, my guilt mixing in with the pleasure. "Don't--" All other words suddenly fled my mind as his lips sealed around my clit, sucking at me in a way that had me crying out in shock, my vision nearly turning black.

Just as I thought I would faint from the flood of emotions, Roman came back up after taking his time, breath heavy against my lips. "Still want me to go?"

My eyes glossed over, meeting his. Thunder and lightning struck outside again, lighting up my living room, and allowing me to see the traces of my slick around his mouth. Something about it was just too scandalous-- I couldn't believe any of this was happening. But we'd gone too far to go back now; "No," I breathed, slinging my arms around his neck, pulling him into a heated kiss. 

As I tasted myself on his lips, Roman picked me up, and my legs automatically wrapped around him as they always had. He didn't need to watch where he was going as he knew my apartment almost as well as I did, walking away from the wall and laying me down on the couch with ease. 

It was hard to focus on the true nature of what was going on when it felt so damn good. Everything happened in a blur; I couldn't recall how or when Roman had lost his shirt, when my underwear got pulled off and discarded, or how I had allowed this to happen. Roman's cock pressed into me slowly, still trying to be sincere despite the complexion of our encounter. With every thrust, my chest arched up against his, back curving as I whimpered at the stretch. 

My hands rested on Roman's neck as he kissed me once more, stealing my breath with every roll of his hips. The part of me that was outraged with the both of us withered away as I continued to moan beneath him, coming out in broken cries. I couldn't focus on the infidelity I was committing when he was inside of me like this, his hands wrapped around me, moving me against him. 

"Fuck, I've missed this," Roman breathed against my neck, letting out a laboured sigh of satisfaction. "All of you... All of this..."

Everything about this was dizzying; maybe this was my mind playing tricks on me, maybe this was all some dirty dream? But I could feel myself clinging to him, wet and dripping-- there was no way this wasn't real. "Rome," I cried, the old nickname slipping past my lips. 

I could feel him give in to a shiver, ears perking up. "That's sweet," Roman kissed my cheek, driving his cock further into me as I whimpered, no longer used to his length like before. Even as he whispered my name, needing me, I briefly thought of how less intimidating he was at this moment-- this was the part of Roman that would show up in my dreams, caress my cheeks as I cried, and fall asleep on top of my chest after a long day, clinging to me. I had spent so much time resenting him, that it was weird to see him so... human. Desperate.

I let out a short gasp as I suddenly realized I was almost folded in half, my legs creasing at his arms. One thing hadn't changed; Roman would always take his liberties with me, no matter the circumstances. It somehow bothered me that I was being fucked with the same amount of love as before; did he have no guilt? No thoughts of his girlfriend at home?

Fuck-- Peter!

As I remembered my boyfriend, I felt my anxiety rise. My hand shot up to Roman's chest, lips parted, ready to protest and push him away-- but as I met his eyes, the green of his irises practically engulfed my being, and not a sound would come out of my mouth. "Shh, it's okay," Roman said, voice calm, reading my panic. "It's just me... It's okay."

Something about his voice was so calming, soothing, that a certain sense of relief washed over me-- I could recall several similar instances. This had happened before; it was almost as though a greater power controlled me every time I looked into his eyes for too long. 

The hand I had on his chest went up into his hair, pulling him forward to capture his lips in a kiss. I was caught off guard as Roman pulled out only till the tip of him remained, letting out a soft gasp against him as he pushed back into me to the hilt. I felt him hum against the kiss, sighing in satisfaction. "There you go," he said, words softer than ever. "Just relax, enjoy... Let me take care of you, just like I used to."

Despite how hard my guilt was eating at me, I still felt ridiculously calm, unable to do anything else than comply. I could only moan, shivering with pleasure at the feeling of being driven forward against the couch with every thrust. 

I wrapped my arms around Roman, kissing his broad shoulders, giving in to the pleasure. I had missed this, I had missed him... All my feelings started to ball up, crying out against his shoulder at the realization of what was about to happen. "Rome, I- I can't--"

"Gonna?" His question came out along with a grunt and another snap of his hips, repeatedly pushing himself into me. 

I couldn't hold it-- I really, really couldn't. Something about the nature of our get-together mixed in with my climax, and I let my head fall back down against the couch as I cried out. It was so hard, so intense, that I had forgotten to breathe; I hadn't had an orgasm like that since the day we broke up. 

I knew I was screwed. I knew it.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

As everything started to dawn on me, my breathing got heavier-- what had we done? I pulled myself closer to Roman on the bed, completely spent, seeking comfort from the person who had dragged me into this mess in the first place. 

Eventually, Roman broke the silence; "We should do porn," he mumbled, taking another drag of his cigarette. 

What? I looked up to glare at him; "Fuck you,"

"You just did," Roman smirked, glancing back at me with a rather proud expression on his face. "But I'm serious. We're damn hot."

I groaned; this was not what I needed to hear right now-- not after we had just finished round three. Roman reached out for me with his free hand, pulling me even closer, lazily running his fingers through my hair. I embraced him as I sniffled, burying my face in the crook of his neck. I was so tired, feeling my sore legs ache as I realized that up close, Roman's hair smelled like cigarettes as well. He might've quit drinking, but quitting cigarettes was a no-go in his book.

"We're horrible people," I mumbled, my words muffled up against his skin, taking in his presence. There were many times I had dreamed about us being reunited, but never that it would end up with me cheating on Peter.

Roman shrugged, turning to press a kiss against my temple. "I told you, I'm leaving her. We're fine," 

Nothing about this felt fine. I propped myself up on my elbow, watching him as he laid comfortably in my bed, almost done with his cigarette. Even after convincing me to commit such a heinous act against my boyfriend, he looked like an angel. Fucking Lucifer. "... Don't do it. Don't leave her."

"What?" Confused, Roman's green eyes rounded out. "Why not?"

I sighed, shaking my head. The decision I had made for myself was hard to air out, and I knew that protests would ensue; "I'm not leaving Peter,"

But despite my predictions, Roman got quiet. His wide, empty eyes stared right back at me, lips parted as though he was ready to speak. "... You're kidding me?" he finally said, the hurt in his face mixing in with a smidge of anger. "After this, you're going to stay with him?"

"He's good for me!" I tried, sitting up properly. "Roman, please, just-- I don't know what came over me, but this was a mistake... We're not good for each other, you know this!--"

"You're kidding me?" Roman repeated, clearly in a state of shock. 

This whole ordeal was making me feel like the second worst person in the world, with the first place going to Roman. I buried my face in my hands, realizing that I was trembling. "Please don't make this harder than it already is," I pleaded, inhaling a shaky breath. "You had no right to show up here... I was fine just the way I was, and I'm going to go back to that."

I heard Roman shift, sitting up as well. His long, slender fingers wrapped around my wrists, prying my hands away from my face. His green eyes burned into me, the fire intent on destroying whatever it could catch, and I knew I had to look away before it was too late. "I'm leaving her," he said, intertwining his fingers with mine. "I love you. I'm leaving her."

It took a lot of willpower to shake my head, rejecting his words. "Don't," 

"I will,"

"No, Roman, I don't want you to!--"

My words came to a halt as Roman leaned forward, capturing my lips in a rushed, desperate kiss. I did my best not to cry again, having previously burst into tears in the middle of round two-- I couldn't do this. This wasn't good for me. Peter was good for me.

I felt Roman's hands leave mine, and before I knew it, his fingers twisted into the hair at the nape of my neck, forcing me to look at him. His eyes searched mine, looking to find some shred of doubt to hang onto. "Do you love him?" I barely had time to open my mouth to speak before he cut me off; "You wouldn't have done this if you did."

My tears came back, pressing up on my eyes with a burning fire, begging to be set free. "Please, just... Please just go,"

Roman let out a sigh, leaning forward to press his lips against my forehead. "Call me when you change your mind,"

"I won't,"

"You will," Roman's hand slid out of my hair, caressing my cheek with his thumb, his green eyes finding mine once more. And just as I was about to look away, I felt that familiar calm wash over me as the colour green took over my vision, the numbing of my thoughts ensuing; there was no way I could fight it. I didn't stand a chance. 

Roman's lips quirked into a shameless smirk; "You will,"

a/n: (should I do a pt.2? hihi)

[artemismoorea03]

DP x DC: If You Take A Ghost Dog to The Dog Park

Cujo was what Sam called a 'Hound of Hell' and she meant it literally. After Danny became the King of Ghosts at the mature age of 15 and 2 days old, Cujo - his "dog" - became a listed Ghost Zone Hound which had multiple other names which included 'Hell Hound'. With Cujo's new found ability he was able to find Danny wherever he went and get him out of any potentially dangerous situation he found himself, as well as carry out orders given to him by Frostbite, Clockwork, Sam, Tucker, Jazz, Elle, Valerie and of course - Danny.

But Cujo was still a dog.

A very excited dog who dragged him all the way to a corner of the Ghost Zone and through a natural portal into an city Danny hadn't visited in person before. Gotham City. Specifically Cujo took him to the Gotham City dog park where he proceeded to try to play with the other dogs in the park.

Most of the dogs seemed hesitant at first until a great dane puppy jogged over and the two started to play together. It was nice to watch considering how little Hell Hounds there were in the Ghost Zone, but on the other hand Danny was in his human form and having a glowing green dog was quickly gaining attention, specifically from the owner of the great dane, a 9-year-old kid with black hair and green eyes.

"What kind of dog is that?" The kid asked.

"Honestly? No idea, he's a rescue." Danny said, shoving his hands in his pockets. "His names Cujo. What's your dogs name?"

"Titus."

"Like the Roman Emperor?" Danny questioned, seeing the surprise on the boys face.

"Exactly. Cujo is the name of a horror movie dog, correct?"

Danny nodded, "Yeah."

"Why is he green?"

Danny shrugged, "Dunno, he came that way." Danny said, then facepalmed when Cujo suddenly took on his huge form and began running through the park with Titus right on his heels.

It wasn't just Titus anymore either.

Suddenly more and more dogs were chasing Cujo through the dogpark as Cujo howled, barked, then turned and bowed occasionally at the other dogs before he finally turned and made a mad dash at Danny.

The kid took a step back as Danny just sighed, bracing himself as Cujo got closer and closer. Then, when he was close enough Danny held out his hand.

"Cujo, stop!"

Cujo slid to a stop, ending up less than three feet from Danny, his tail swishing excitedly.

"Cujo, sit."

Cujo sat down, his tail now thumping on the ground.

"Good. Now, Cujo, shrink."

Cujo popped into his small figure and jumped into Danny's arms as he pet him then looked at the kid and other very concerned and confused people.

"Uh... bye." He said, walking away leaving everybody concerned and confused.

---

Damian sat at the Bat-Computer curled up slightly as he tried to find information on what he'd seen when Drake walked in. Drake approached, looking at the computer with a tilt of his head.

"Is that a giant green dog?"

"Indeed. It was able to shift size, was glowing, and is seemingly well trained."

"So.. what you're doing research so you can get one of your own?"

"Don't be ridiculous. I'm trying to find the boy was who had it."

"Why?"

"Because the boy whom was with the dog had rings of glowing green around his eyes. Lazarus green specifically. I suspect a Lazarus pit has opened up within the Gotham Limits and that this boy and his dog are playing in it. If a Lazarus Pit has opened within Gotham we must get the boy into custody and get both he and his dog some help, then we must seal the pit."

"What if you can't find them?"

"Then they'll find us. That green dog and Titus enjoyed playing together and dogs thrive on patterns. The dog - Cujo - had fun at the park so it's only a matter of time before they return to it."

"Huh... if you take a dog to the dog park, he'll want to play again."

Damian looked at Drake with a raised brow.

"I was referencing a childrens book about a mouse and a cookie."

"Leave such things for Todd." Damian said simply, looking at the computer again.

[rollinouttahere-writes]

Welcome back Lin! Hope your doing ok ☺️ 

Would it be alright if I request yandere Luffy where him and the reader go to an new island maybe there’s all you can eat buffet or the crew went to a fair🎢🎡 , but what if Luffy and reader got separate and while the reader was looking for him only to bump into a guy (maybe a few ?) who wouldn’t take a no for an answer maybe that’s when reader shouted for Luffy who came running ? Hope this ok and if it’s possible  could the reader be a female if not that’s ok I’m fine with gn. (Mm maybe romantic? If that’s ok if u want it could be low-key romantic if u want please ) 🍪anon

I decided to take a crack at writing Luffy romantically. I might start doing it more if y'all like this. Also I love Lin as an abbreviation of my username, that's adorable. And uh... I hope you're still with me given that this ask is from July of last year...

Prized Possession

Yandere Luffy x Fem!Reader

2k words

Getting to explore a new island was always thrilling. There was no telling if this would be a casual visit, or if you were about to go to war with the local tyrant because your dear, chaotic captain physically can't leave well enough alone. Not that you're necessarily complaining. His tendency to stick his nose in everyone's business and throw hands when necessary (and sometimes not), was what led to you joining his crew and beginning your new life of piracy. 

As well as leading to you meeting the man that managed to completely steal your heart so effortlessly and casually that you can't even truly pinpoint an exact date for when you two became a couple. The relationship only became officially recognized when Usopp asked if you two were a couple or not, to which Luffy hummed in thought for a minute, then shrugged and said ‘yeah’.

An extremely romantic and enviable confession, truly. You wouldn't have it any other way. 

 But that was the past, and you should be focused on the now. It's not every day that you guys get the pleasure of visiting an island in the middle of a festival. Food stalls and various forms of entertainment filled a large open field with vendors all clambering for the attention of everyone and anyone passing by. Your boyfriend had rapidly become a favorite for anyone running a food stall that was selling meat. 

You watched with mild amusement as Luffy shoved as much grilled meat as he possibly could into his mouth with one hand. His other hand was tightly clutched around your own, as it usually was during any casual outing you two had together. Your free hand held a skewer of meat Luffy had handed you that you were lightly nibbling on. 

If you were completely honest, you didn't really want it. You've been sampling various meats since Luffy started dragging you around to each and every stall that caught his eye. All of them have been good, you can't deny that, but your body was begging for literally anything plant-based. You would rip a carrot out of the dirt and eat it right now if presented with the opportunity. But… Luffy looked so happy that you didn't really want to say anything about it yet. You'll be able to get a word in later once his appetite is starting to slow down. 

“Do you not like it?”

The question snapped you out of your train of thought. Luffy had just finished decimating the last of this cart's supply. His cheeks were stretched out as he chewed, then swallowed the last bite. 

“It’s fine, I guess I'm just not that hungry.” This was a half truth. You were definitely starting to get full by now. 

Not wasting a second, Luffy leaned down and ate what was left of your share. Including the stick. Once upon a time, that would have concerned you, but you've seen him eat more questionable things. He must have the stomach acid of a vulture, you're sure of it. 

“Sanji definitely makes it better, I get why you didn't want it.” Luffy promptly walked away with you in tow, ignoring the offended grumblings of the cook he just insulted without a care in the world. This is something that you would normally scold someone over, but you've quickly learned that there is no point in trying to scold Luffy about something so trivial. He won't listen. It'll be in one ear, out the other.

It was obvious that he was trying to scope out the next place to eat from. In an attempt to spare yourself from continuing to eat like a carnivore, you try to draw his attention away from all of the food. Giving his hand a squeeze, you shoot your shot, “Why don't we go try some of the carnival games? I bet we could win lots of prizes.” The games being rigged won't mean anything against someone with Luffy's strength. Bottles could be superglued to the tables, and Luffy would still be able to bowl them over with ease.

Much to your relief, Luffy perked up at your idea, seeming to be interested. He grinned widely, “Yeah! I bet I’ll be able to win more prizes than you!”

His declaration makes you laugh, “Oh? Is that a challenge?” He would absolutely win more stuff,  but that’s neither here nor there. 

He let out a laugh of his own. “It is! You better be ready to- Oh! They made more!” In an instant, your boyfriend made a hard left and sprinted towards a food stall that he had previously cleaned out. That one had been his favorite of the night. 

Apparently, he was so excited that he had let go of you in his hurry to go back. You stare down at your now freed -and slightly sweaty- hand. Well, if this isn't a perfect opportunity to get a different kind of food, you don't know what is. It won't take him long to either clean that vendor out again or notice your absence, so you should find something to eat quickly. 

You wander away from where all the savory foods are being served until you find a row of carts specializing in sweet treats. You should be able to find something with fruit here. The delicious smells of fried dough and sugary batters wafted through the air and filled your senses, but that wasn’t what you were looking for. After walking past a few carts, your eyes zero in on something promising. One of the stands is selling ice cream, and some of the toppings available are fresh fruit. Perfect!

Happily, you get in line and read the menu as you try to decide what to get. You decide on what combination of ice cream and fruit you want and order as soon as you get to the front. The vendor tells you the total while the person working with him makes your cone. Before you can pull out your money, someone behind you speaks up.

“Add hers to my order.”

The voice didn’t sound familiar, so you look over your shoulder. There is a man standing a little too close behind you. He’s tall and has an impressive looking sleeve of tattoos on his left arm. The man leers down at you. Immediately, you get a bad feeling about him.

“Oh, you don’t have to do that. I can pay for it.” You hastily fish some berry out of your pocket, but the stranger beats you to the chase and hands the vendor money first.

“I don’t have to, but I wanted to. Is there something wrong with that?” His smile lacks the warm comfort that Luffy’s does. It just feels condescending and smarmy. 

There is something wrong with doing a charitable act when there is an ulterior motive, but you don’t say that out loud, “I guess not… Thank you.”

He takes this as an invitation to step closer to you. “My name’s Dante. What’s a pretty thing like you called?”

You take a large step back and know that you don’t want to give this guy your actual name, “Well, my boyfriend likes to call me cupcake sometimes.” Among many other far less conventional pet names like bug or meatball. Honestly, you’re starting to think Luffy comes up with odd names just to make you laugh.

Dante’s eye twitches in annoyance, “Boyfriend? I don’t see him.”

“Yeah, we split up to get different food. He’s going to meet up with me soon.” Internally, you aren’t sure how long it’s going to take for Luffy to find you since you wandered off without telling him, but this guy doesn’t need to know that part.

“C’mon, don’t be like that. I bought you ice cream, don’t lie to me about a boyfriend.” 

“I’m not lying. I am here with my boyfriend, and I don’t care for the way you’re talking to me. Look, I’ll pay you back for the ice cream,” without waiting for a response, you pull some money out of your pocket and hold it out to him.

Instead of taking the money, he pushes your hand away and steps closer. “Just come with me for a bit. I promise I’ll make it worth your while.”

The vendor finally hands over your ice cream, and you’re quick to take it and speed walk away. Hopefully, Dante will take the hint and leave you alone. You make a beeline for where you last saw Luffy while taking a bite from your fruity ice cream. It tastes delicious and is very refreshing after having so much meat.

Unfortunately, you don’t make it far before you feel someone grab your arm and force you to stop. You whip around and glare at the man who’s harassing you, “Would you leave me alone? I’m not interested.”

Dante doesn’t appear to be deterred, just frustrated. “Quit playing hard to get.” He plasters a sleazy smile onto his face, “Just come with me for a little while so we can have some fun together.” He grabs your other arm and pulls you closer.

Just as you’re about to kick him between the legs, he is violently launched away from you. It startles you initially, but you relax quickly because you would recognize that stretchy arm anywhere. You smile as you see Luffy marching over to you. You’re about to greet him and say how happy you are to see him, but he walks right past you. His expression isn’t just serious. He looks pissed.

You gawk at him as he stomps over to where Dante is sprawled out on the ground, groaning in pain from crashing into a tin trash can. He looks up at Luffy and tries to sit up and act tough, “The hell is your problem, man?!”

Luffy doesn’t answer him. Instead, he pulls his arm back and punches Dante again. His fist connects with his jaw with a loud crack. In an instant, Luffy is on top of him and raining down more blows while remaining eerily silent. All you can do is stare in horror as Luffy keeps beating the man. Sickening crunches sound through the air, making your stomach lurch with each one. Ice cream drips down your fingers as it melts, but you can’t be bothered to do anything about it.

By the time Luffy gets up, Dante is completely limp and he’s bloodied from the shoulders up. Several people rush to his side to check on him, but no one is brave enough to approach Luffy. The face he had previously is gone and he’s back to smiling as if nothing happened. He wipes his bloody hands onto his shorts as he approaches you.

“There you are! I got worried when I saw you weren’t with me.”

All you do is nod, still too stunned to speak. Your silence doesn’t seem to bother Luffy at all. He ducks down and licks up some of your ice cream before raising your hands to hold it closer to your mouth, “Your ice cream is melting, don’t forget to eat it.”

“Oh… yeah…” You lick at the treat, but you can’t even taste it as your gaze remains fixed on the man that Luffy just beat to a pulp.

Luffy blocks your view and smiles tightly. “Let’s go play those games you talked about! C’mon, I’ll win you lots of prizes!” He slings an arm around your shoulder and presses a kiss to your cheek before forcibly guiding you away from the scene of his crime.

You’ve never seen that side of Luffy come out over something so minor. You would’ve understood if he’d just hit Dante the first time, but the rest? It was like watching someone get mauled by a wild animal. And after doing all that, he's walking around without a care in the world.

… Maybe you’re just overreacting. Luffy would never do something like that without a good reason… right?

[lostreverb]

bed chem (short n' sweet)

(colin zabel x fem!reader) your internship just got more interesting...

warnings / content: not really proofread, age gap (reader is 20-22, colin's like 32-34), swearing, perv!reader tbh, NSFW - masturbation (toys) + fingering (fem receiving), p in v

(this fic is a part of my short n' sweet collection!) a/n: every time i listen to this song i think of colin like he's just so... AHHHHHHHHHH i've literally had this idea since the album came out! tried to incorporate as many lyrics as i could idk how well i did tho!

--

the easttown police department wasn’t exactly a hub of thrilling action. that was probably a good thing for the town, but for you, it made the days of your internship drag endlessly. stuck behind a desk, processing minor domestic disputes and petty incidents, the hours stretched out. you couldn’t help but wish that, just once, you’d be allowed to join an officer out in the field. to witness a slice of the town's life up close instead of through dry reports. but no, you were stuck in the back office, relying on your imagination to fill in the blanks while you typed up incident after incident.

on this particular afternoon, you were making your way down the hallway with a precariously high stack of files balanced in your arms. you could feel the papers shift, hear the quiet rustle of their movement as they started to slide. panic gripped you briefly—this was going to be embarrassing. you were already imagining the cascade of documents scattering across the floor, how you’d have to drop to your knees and scramble to gather them up, probably while everyone watched. just as the stack tilted dangerously to one side, a hand swooped in, catching the top section before it could tumble.

"here, lemme help you with that," a man said, accompanied by a friendly smile. a smile too relaxed, too bright for this quiet, indifferent corner of pennsylvania.

grateful, you gestured toward your desk a few feet away. "thanks," you mumbled, trying not to sound too embarrassed as you placed the files down with a sigh of relief. he set the rescued papers down beside yours, glancing at you with a foreign look. like he actually saw you as a person instead of the intern that does the shit no one else wants to do.

"you doin' okay?" he asked. his concern seemed genuine, which again, took you a second to process.

"yeah! yeah, i'm good!" you responded, a little too enthusiastically perhaps, as you straightened the files in a futile effort to regain your composure. "thank you."

the man chuckled softly. "you know, sometimes it’s easier just to take the two trips." he shot you a wink that made your pulse quicken. "speakin' from experience," he added, leaning a little closer as if sharing a secret. "when i was in your shoes, i had to learn the hard way."

the chief called him over and, after a charismatic "duty calls" farewell, he walked off. you sat down at your desk, face hurting from the corners of your mouth being lifted for so long, but you couldn't bring them down.

you buried your face into your arms, letting your forehead rest against the cool surface of the desk for a few minutes. if anyone saw the flush creeping up your cheeks, you’d never hear the end of it. you took a deep breath, trying to shake off the feeling, willing yourself to get back to work. but the more you tried to focus, the more impossible it became.

why? because guess whose office was in clear view of your desk? mare's. and guess who was now in mare's office quite adorably rehearsing a conversation with himself?

yeah... you were done for.

the man's lips moved slightly as if he was practicing lines for a play, his brow furrowed in concentration, and every so often, he’d run a hand through his neatly cropped hair, or shake his head in disapproval, looking entirely too charming for his own good.

you needed to find out who he was right away. what was he there to talk to mare about? was he a detective? why couldn't you stop thinking about him pinning you against a wall?

unable to live with the mystery you pushed yourself up from your chair and marched over to the nearest officer, your pulse still racing. "hey—uh, hello." you cleared your throat, trying to sound casual despite the warmth still lingering in your cheeks. "who’s the cute guy in mare’s office? you know, uh.."

wide brown eyes, chiseled jawline..

"navy jacket- big briefcase."

the officer looked up, raising an eyebrow at your blunt description before glancing toward the office. "county guy chief brought in to help with the katie bailey case," he replied nonchalantly. "last name's zabel if i remember right."

you nodded, pretending like that was enough to satisfy your curiosity, but then another officer nearby chimed in with a smirk. "that’s him? poor guy’s gonna be in for it."

they quickly devolved into their own conversation, talking shop and completely forgetting you were even standing there. under normal circumstances, their dismissal might’ve bugged you, but you had bigger priorities now.

back at your desk, you grabbed your phone and opened up a browser, your fingers flying across the screen. within moments, you’d found him. detective colin zabel of delaware county. recently praised for solving a cold case involving a missing 10-year-old girl—a feat that had earned him respect in the force and beyond.

you couldn’t help but grin. of course he was the hero detective. it made perfect sense. but now that you knew who he was, it didn’t make the butterflies in your stomach any easier to ignore.

when mare had finally arrived, you watched the awkward interaction between the two of them. colin outstretched his hand only for her to disregard his formalities. you saw it coming, but it didn't make it any less painful to observe.

you waited until she had left (which wasn't very long) to discreetly travel over to the office. the door was open so you knocked on the frame.

"it's not personal. she's got a lot going on" you said with an understanding smile.

at the sound of your voice, colin turned around, giving a deflated chuckle towards your remark. "you er- saw that whole thing?"

"my desk is right there" you said, pointing, the two stacks of files barely touched. "sorry i kinda.. visually eavesdropped"

"no worries-" colin briefly smiled at your humorous confession then looked away. "uhhhhhh- did you need somethin'?"

"just wanted to introduce myself" you said, extending your hand out. "i'm y/n"

when he firmly took yours in his, your eyes couldn't help but flicker down and notice the veins that decorated them. a thought crossed your mind about where they might show up on other parts of his body.

"that's a pretty name"

you looked up from the grip your two hands were intertwined in, colin's attentive dark eyes on you.

"thank you.." you said softly, pulling away. shit, why were you out of breath? "uhm- i read about that... that case you solved? amazing work"

"oh- that was- i'm not-" he scratched the back of his head, trying to find words to minimize the accomplishment. you didn't know what was more attractive—hearing him stumble over his words or his humility. "we brought her home you know? that's what matters"

you nodded earnestly in response. "100%... well let me know if you need anythin'. i know people here can be a bit closed off but it's not all that bad."

"yeah thanks... nice to know i got a friend already" he smiled.

a friend... for now.

--

seeing as he was always in the back of your mind, and you couldn't care less about filling out reports, daydreaming about colin became your favorite past time. and every smile, every corny joke he greeted you with only fueled your crush.

it wasn't long before you noticed he had his eyes on mare, but the way he stared at you while you spoke about your criminology major... crossing his built arms, leaning forward on his desk to show you he was really listening. the way he'd routinely check on you and stop by your desk to chat....

for god's sake he started to get you coffee every morning.

there had to be something there... right? something more between you than mere camaraderie.

you definitely thought so. and thought about it often.. in bed.

eyes closed, you pictured colin's body hovering over yours. you could discern his toned figure from the form fitted button-ups he wore.. he'd have absolutely no problem picking you up and turning you over, manhandling you... though he probably wouldn't. he's too sweet for that. so sweet... and yet no ring? colin seemed like the type of man who should've had a wife and 2 kids by now...

maybe you could be the one to give that to him.

not now of course.

one day though.

still thinking of him you reached down into your panties, playing with your delicate folds in the caring manner you imagined him to have.

"so beautiful" he'd whisper, pumping two slick digits in and out of you at a sensual pace.

gasping moans escaped from your mouth as your fingers moved faster, the squelching sound of your fluids filling the room.

"that's it... god, i love how y'sound..."

belt unbuckled, he'd pull down his pants and boxers in one swift motion revealing his hard cock ready to drive into you. from underneath your bed you grab your dildo—oversized and veiny as colin would be and removed your now-soaked underwear.

he'd smile against your lips as he slotted himself between your legs, your body accommodating as he entered. after he'd ask (quite endearningly) if you're okay, you'd quickly nod, giving him permission to continue.

you try to imagine the expression of lust on his face... the sound of his deep groans in your ear as you fucked yourself gently, attempting to emulate your bodies rocking together in synced movement, the riveting sensation of the veins against your walls sending shockwaves through your body.

"fuck... oh my god" you panted, feeling the heat build up in your core. you were close.

"let go, i've got you... taking me like this, you're doing so well... makin' me feel so good..."

you increase the pace at which you pummel the dildo into your quivering cunt, eyes rolling back as you reach your climax, your body left trembling.

with colin, your sure you'd probably both arrive at the same time.

but for now you just had to live with unsatisfaction of not feeling his warm release coating your insides.

--

the next morning the chief had called you into his office.

a grin spread on your face as the he detailed the new program the department was implementing, how you'd finally be able to shadow an officer like you'd hoped when you first applied for the internship.

"any officer you have a preference to be paired with?"

you turned your head and caught colin's gaze through the office window. he was deep in conversation with mare, but when he noticed you, he gave a small wave. you smiled back, feeling a slight flutter.

"yeah, i’ve got someone in mind."

--

extra note: part two coming (hopefully soon!) it'll be based off the song "busy woman"!

tags (ask to be added or removed anytime!): @fear-is-truth @juliamaximoff @jazz-berry @violetsghosts @quickreider @tiffysdeath @honeymoon8

[corruptedcaps]

What a drag

Anna was worried about her best friend Chloe. It wasn’t just that Chloe had started smoking, though that was odd enough. It was how the cigarettes seemed to changed her.

Anna first noticed it during one of their usual hangouts at their local coffee shop. Chloe lit up a cigarette, her fingers effortlessly handling it like it was something she did every day. There was something in the way she exhaled the smoke, how her eyes seemed to glitter with a new, almost unsettling confidence. At first, Anna thought it was just in her head, but as the days passed, it became impossible to ignore.

Chloe was more vain now, always checking her reflection, fussing over her hair, her clothes. She wore makeup Anna had never seen her use before. Seductive red lipstick, winged eyeliner, bold choices that made her look stunning but unlike her. She had started dressing differently too. Wearing dresses that barely covered anything, plunging necklines that showed off an impressive rack that Anna had never noticed before.

The looks Anna could have seen past but her attitude was changing from the kind and sweet girl Anna knew into some sort of vapid and arrogant 'it' girl that was more unrecognizable by the day.

Anna had started to suspect that all the changes had something to do with the cigarettes when she noticed that no matter how many Chloe smoked, the box always seemed full. At first, Anna dismissed it as a trick of the light or her own imagination. But the more she watched, the more convinced she became that something unnatural was going on. So she put together a plan to get her Chloe back.

One afternoon, while they were sitting in the park, Chloe excused herself to use the restroom, leaving her purse behind. Anna’s heart pounded as she saw the cigarette box peeking out. This was her chance. Quickly, she rummaged through her own bag, pulling out a regular pack of cigarettes she had bought earlier, just in case. With trembling hands, she swapped them, slipping Chloe’s strange, never-ending box into her own pocket.

When Chloe returned, she didn’t notice a thing. She took out a cigarette from the new box and lit it, but Anna could tell immediately that something was different. Chloe seemed puzzled for a moment, almost repulsed by the cigarette she was smoking. Her confident demeanor wavering slightly as she took another drag.

"Em, is it ok if we call it a day? I'm not feeling to good at the moment." Chloe asked rather sheepishly.

"Oh yeah of course, just text me when you get back." Anna said hugging Chloe and feeling the familiar embrace back. That was when she knew she had done the right thing.

Anna walked home with a sense of relief, convinced that Chloe's strange transformation would soon reverse. She had done what she needed to do. As she stepped through the front door, she called out, "Hi, Mom!"

"Hi, honey," her mother, Debra, replied from the kitchen. But then her voice sharpened with concern, "What’s that in your pocket?"

Anna froze. In the rush of swapping the cigarette boxes, she had completely forgotten about the one she had slipped into her pocket. She had meant to toss it out on the way home but had totally forgot. Guilt prickled her skin as she pulled out the mysterious pack, holding it awkwardly in her hand.

"They're not mine I swear! They’re Chloe’s." Anna stammered, her voice faltering under her mother’s piercing gaze. But Debra wasn’t buying it.

"Anna, don’t lie to me. I didn’t raise you to be liar, or a smoker!" Her mother said, her tone both stern and disappointed. "You’re going to sit here and smoke every last one of those, then you’ll realize smoking isn’t so cool."

Anna’s heart dropped. She opened her mouth to protest, to explain everything, to say how the cigarettes were somehow magic but even as she thought it she knew how ridiculous it sounded. Plus once her mother set her mind to something, she wouldn't budge. Debra was already setting up an ashtray on the table, her expression unyielding.

Anna hesitantly took out a cigarette, her hands trembling. As she lit it and took a drag, she was surprised by the taste. It was sweet and smooth, not at all what she expected. She understood now why Chloe was so put off of the pack she had switched. The smoke felt oddly comforting as it filled Anna's lungs, leaving her feeling almost...good. Relaxed. She took another puff, sinking deeper into the sensation.

But as Anna exhaled, something odd began to happen. Unbeknownst to her or Debra, her fingernails started to lengthen, growing into a perfectly manicured set painted red. They gleamed with an unnatural sheen, elegant and sharp, as if they had always been that way. Anna, lost in the sweet smoke, didn’t even notice the transformation.

Anna finished the first cigarette, exhaling slowly as the sweet aftertaste lingered on her lips. "Can I go now?" She asked in a slightly bratty tone.

But Debra crossed her arms, her expression firm. "No. You’re going to smoke every cigarette in that box, just like I said."

Rolling her eyes, Anna took out another cigarette and lit it. As she brought it to her lips and took a deep drag, more changes began to take place. Her chest started to swell, gradually expanding beneath her shirt, still unnoticed by either her or Debra. The sensation was so gradual, so natural, that it didn’t register as anything unusual.

Meanwhile, as the nicotine worked its way through her system, Anna’s thoughts began to shift. She found herself caring less about her mother’s disapproval and more about how good she felt. A sense of superiority started to creep in, an arrogant voice in her mind whispering that she deserved to do whatever she wanted and fuck the consequences.

Her mother wasn’t the only growing irritation in her as she started to feel her eyes were blurring. Taking off her glasses she found to her wonder that her eyesight was sharper than it ever was.

Without waiting for her mother’s instruction, Anna reached for another cigarette and lit it with practiced ease. It was becoming second nature to her now, the act of smoking feeling as natural as breathing. She inhaled deeply, the sweet smoke filling her lungs with a comforting warmth.

As she exhaled, her thoughts of her mother darkened. "Who is she to tell me what to do?" Anna thought, the arrogance growing stronger within her. A wave of irritation washed over her as she glanced at Debra, her mind swirling with mean, dismissive thoughts. “She’s just a jealous old hag. She’ll never understand what it’s like to be this… perfect.”

As Anna continued to smoke, the changes in her body accelerated. Her hair began to grow longer and thicker until it cascaded down her back in luxurious waves. Her waist subtly tightened, drawing in to create a more pronounced hourglass figure. Meanwhile, her lips softened and plumped, taking on a fuller, more seductive shape that made her face look almost doll-like.

As Anna stubbed out her cigarette, she didn’t hesitate before pulling out yet another. She lit it with a smirk, her eyes gleaming with a newfound superiority as she looked at her mother. The changes within her had solidified, leaving little trace of the shy, nerdy girl she once was.

Debra, seeing her plan backfire, grew alarmed. “It’s okay, Anna. You can stop now.” She said, her voice tinged with fear and regret.

But Anna refused, a mocking smile playing on her now-plump lips. “Oh, no, Mommy, you were right. I do need to be punished.” She purred, her tone dripping with sarcasm. She took a long, deliberate drag. She curled her lips into an ‘o’ and puffed out a perfect circle. The ring rising about her head like a sinister halo.

As Anna inhaled deeply, the smoke seemed to take on a life of its own, swirling around her body before seeping into her clothes. The baggy t-shirt she wore began to tighten, the fabric transforming as if molded by the smoke itself. It shrank and shifted, morphing into a tight, revealing black bodycon dress that clung to her newly sculpted tits, accentuating every curve.

At the same time, her face began to change even more dramatically. Thick makeup appeared, as if applied by an invisible hand. Dark eyeshadow that made her eyes smolder, sharp eyeliner, and deep pink lipstick that highlighted her now-plump lips.

Anna looked over at the nearby mirror and for a moment panicked at what she saw. Staring back at her was a gorgeous brunette wrapped in the tightest outfit she had ever saw. This wasn’t the nerdy and weak girl she saw every morning, no this was a wicked bitch who commanded respect.

Her shocked expression soon turned into an evil grin as she took another drag of her cigarette. She had been right, it was the cigarettes after all. They had made her into everything she feared Chloe would become and she loved it. Chloe's transformation had been slow because she had been unknowingly pacing herself. Anna had been forced to corrupt herself she was glad she had.

As Anna grabbed another cigarette and put it between her perfect lips, Debra reached out and snatched the box of cigarettes from Anna’s hand. She had finally clocked the transformation in her daughter. “That’s enough.” She said, her voice trembling with both fear and desperation. But as she glanced inside the box, her heart skipped a beat, it was still full, as if none of the cigarettes had been smoked at all.

Anna watched her mother’s reaction with a cold, detached amusement. She sat with her legs crossed, taking another drag out of her cigarette. “Give them back.” She said, her voice dripping with a calm, almost lazy menace.

“No, Anna! We need to find someone who can help you. This isn’t right, none of this is right.” Debra insisted, clutching the box tightly.

Anna’s expression remained unchanged as she let out a soft sarcastic sigh. She took a long, deliberate drag from her cigarette, exhaling a thick plume of smoke directly into her mother’s face. The smoke curled around Debra, who gasped and coughed as it invaded her lungs, forcing its way into her system.

“I said, give those back, Debra.” Anna repeated, her tone icy and commanding. Her use of her mother’s first name was chilling.

Debra’s resistance crumbled under the weight of Anna’s words. Her hands, once so firm in their grip on the cigarette box, trembled as she slowly extended it back to Anna. She didn’t understand why, but she felt compelled, almost powerless to do anything else. With a shaky breath, she handed the box over, her heart heavy with dread as she realized how much control she had lost.

Anna took the box in her long nailed hand, taking out another cigarette and lighting it off of the still unfinished one in her hand. She looked at the new cigarette light up with a subtle flash of pink. Somehow she knew that this would cause whoever smoked it to become her slave.

“Here Debbie, take a nice long drag.” Anna said holding out the cigarette for her mother to take. Again Debra felt incapable of refusing. Anna smirked darkly to herself as her mother reluctantly begin to smoke. Casually flipping over the box of cigarettes in her hand, she read the warning she hadn't noticed before, 'Contains Bitchotine.'

[kentopedia]

if we're asking for nanami thoughts then i just wanna know how he'd act if you came home llate from a mission or work jwjbsbs i need this rn

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ SAFE & SOUND — nanami kento

contents: gn!reader 🤍 heheh i didn't mean to write a whole little drabble but i cannot resist something like this ! sfw & a little bit of angst for kicks and giggles — 700

given the nature of being a sorcerer, nanami can't help but get worried when you're running late. he watches the clock tick, minute after minute passing while you still haven't answered his calls.

he's nervous, of course he's nervous. but he doesn't want to be annoying. he knows you can take care of yourself, knows you're strong and capable; and he doesn't want to seem like an overprotective boyfriend. even if it terrifies him that he can't get a hold of you.

instead, he'll just wait for your response, pace the apartment with his phone in his hands and pretend like everything's fine.

kento tries to stay calm. but 45 minutes have passed, and you still haven't answered him.

he's not usually an anxious man, not usually one to let his emotions get the best of him; but his palms are sweaty, his hands shaky, and he can't remember the last time he's felt so on edge.

the dinner he made earlier is already cold, even his own, which he can't bring himself to eat now.

kento's beginning to wonder if he needs to start making calls. there's no need for him to overreact, not when he hasn't been informed that your mission went awry. perhaps satoru knows where you are, shoko, one of the students.

or maybe not. if he doesn't get an answer soon, he'll consider going out after you.

he waits for ten more minutes. the seconds drag on and on.

kento's finger hovers over gojo's contact name. he contemplates.

but the door unlocks just before he can click it, and you're stepping through the threshold, shaking off your coat like nothing's wrong. your hair's a little wind-blown, but otherwise, kento can't spot anything off about you. there's no noticeable wounds, no pain in your expression other than exhaustion.

he's to you in just a few steps, dropping his phone back on the table to take you into his arms. you don't even have time to take your shoes off before he's crushing you to his chest, a heavy hand on the back of your head, pressing it near his heart.

you can hear it hammering in his ribcage, an erratic rhythm that makes guilt flower in your stomach. already, you feel so horrible, you'd been in such a rush to get home.

"kento," you say softly, apologetically, and he swallows, kissing your forehead. he's trying to pretend like nothing's wrong, like he wasn't just scared out of his mind, but you can see right through it. "i didn't mean to worry you."

it doesn't take a genius to realize he'd been afraid, not with the way he can't take his hands off of you.

he breathes, kisses the top of your head. "you didn't call me back."

"my phone died. i didn't get the chance to." you feel so, so awful, especially since you know that this has always been his greatest fear.

time after time, he's lived while other sorcerers die, and you know, even if he doesn't tell you, that he's just waiting for it to be you next. for it to be you lying on that steely table, leaving kento all alone, hardened to the world, perhaps forever.

"i'm so, so sorry, kento," you say, pressing your hand against his chest, feeling as the rhythm of his heartbeat dies down. "i was going to call you back as soon as i finished the mission, and then–"

"shh," he squeezes you tight once more, reassuring, "it's okay. it's not your fault, sweetheart."

"i should've been more prepared." your features pinch together. "i should've charged my phone before i left."

"it's okay," kento says again, and you're not sure when you became the one that's being consoled. "the important thing is that you're home safe and sound."

you swallow down your guilt, kissing his collarbone, the closest part of him that you can get your lips on. "i don't like worrying you."

finally, kento pulls away. you can see the distress that's slowly fading, the way his hands stop their nervous shaking. he brushes a piece of hair away from your face, smiling softly. the expression is almost sad, but there's so much love there, so much affection that you ache.

"well there's nothing we can do about that," he says, kissing your forehead before slinging an arm over your shoulder. "i worry about you all the time."

you open your mouth to argue, but it dies quickly. your rebuttal is futile, hypocritical. you worry about him just as much.

"i'm going to be just fine," you tell him as he leads you to the kitchen, where the cold food is sitting there, waiting. "i'll always make it home to you."

he smiles, and squeezes your hand once. "i sure hope so."

[yanderes-galore]

Scenario in which platonic yandere Bubba Sawyer has a younger sibling who tried to leave the family and start over, but got caught at the last moment, and Bubba is not very happy about them trying to leave.

Poor you is tired of being a cannibal and just wants a normal life... only for your "older brother" to drag you back. Dubious on if you're blood related to them or just kidnapped at a young age since I feel someone blood related may just stay... but I could be wrong! The ending is so... meh... but we all know by now I suck at endings, right?

Bear Trap

Yandere! Platonic! Bubba Sawyer Scenario

Pairing: Platonic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Clingy behavior, Overprotective behavior, Kidnapping, Isolation, Violence, Blood, Cannibalism mentioned but this time not graphically described, Forced companionship.

You were getting tired of this life.

Growing up, you never felt you belonged. You were taught to kill, taught to feast... you were taught to behave. However... you never really considered the Sawyers... family.

Not entirely, anyways.

There was only one you really didn't mind. That was the youngest son, Bubba, your older brother. In a way you guessed you... pitied him, often taking most of the family's abuse. You always looked after him, though.

You always checked in... which must be why he enjoyed you.

You were often around Bubba when growing up. He wasn't like the rest of the family, but certainly wasn't innocent either. His... childish demeanor often brought young you comfort. There were times Bubba acted more like a caretaker around the house with you than your other siblings did.

You were never usually away from Bubba, the youngest of your brothers always sticking by your side. Even now, as an adult, he often searched for you. You could never have alone time without the large Sawyer grappling you in a hug.

You felt so isolated here. No matter what your brother's said, you didn't feel... right. You didn't want to eat people, it often made you sick, but it was what you were taught.

You wanted to leave. In fact, ever since you became an adult you've been planning how to leave. The difficult thing as you were never let off the homestead... despite this... you felt it was time to try your luck.

Pulling yourself from your bed and picking your best clothes, you took what you felt you needed (which wasn't much considering where you are) and left your room. The wood of the house creaked under your feet as you pattered your way down the stairs. You flinch at every sound the house makes... but you need to look natural.

You need to look like you're just taking a walk... then pretend to be a victim of your own family.

You pause when you hear rummaging in the kitchen. Such a noise wasn't new, Bubba or Drayton tended to be in the kitchen preparing meat. The sounds made you desperate to be careful, however, as you pushed gently on the outside door.

Then the noises stop and you nearly feel your heart fall to your stomach.

You realize you'll need to play it casual, standing in the open door as you watch the kitchen. As expected, Bubba looks into the hallway with a confused expression. You clear your head... it's Bubba... you can probably sweet talk him....

You see blood stains on his apron and you grimace, his size making him look intimidating. The only reason you can stand your ground is you grew up with him. Towards you... he's a sweetheart... yet still dangerous.

"Hey, Bubba..." You smile sweetly, leaning against the doorframe. "I just wanted to go out into the field for a bit...."

Bubba doesn't seem to believe you, making a noise of protest before stepping closer. You feel a bit panicked yet swallow your fear. No need to make a scene.

"Come on, Bubba...!" You plead, trying to stay light-hearted. "I'm not a little kid anymore... I can handle myself!"

The unfortunate thing with being close to Bubba is one thing... he can read you. As simple minded as Bubba is, he knows you. In fact... you don't doubt he knows about your distaste for the family.

Along with your rebellious nature... you're the most rebellious one there is in the Sawyers.

So, unfortunately, you can tell Bubba doesn't believe your lie again. You feel yourself practically sweating as Bubba comes closer to stand in front of you. You brace yourself... yet your younger brother just offers a pat on the head.

The affection takes you off guard. You don't understand what he's doing before Bubba reaches for your arm, gently tugging you closer before exiting the house. It's then it clicks.

Bubba either believes you're just taking a walk... or just wants to keep an eye on you. Either way you understand your older brother is coming with you. Such a development suddenly makes your plan so much harder.

Reluctantly you allow yourself to be led by Bubba. The large man proceeds to walk you around the homestead and fields... all while you look for a plan. Quietly you plan a distraction, something to get Bubba to look away.

As the walk progresses, you find yourself growing desperate. You try your best to talk sweetly to Bubba... and for the most part he loosens his grip. You're so close... you keep behaving, keep playing nice...

"You know..." You begin, trying to grab his attention enough. Bubba's gaze glances at you, a curious noise leaving him as he watches you carefully. "You were always my favorite...."

Bubba pauses, grip loosening. He makes a pleased and flattered grunt towards you as you flash a smile. Deceiving him makes you feel a bit bad... unfortunately...

You need to leave...

You stop your walk, keeping up the good sibling persona as you raise your arms. Bubba watches you, suddenly excited at what you're implying. A hug.

"I love you..." you smile, but once you're free...

You ditch.

Your sudden dash takes Bubba by surprise. Due to how fond he is of you it was easy to play him for a fool. You hear a distressed yelp from behind you as you make your way to the roadside.

You ignore the slight emotional pain you get for what you did. Instead you focus on your search for the road through the cornfields. Silently you hope the family truck doesn't pull in...

But you learn you have other problems when you hear more distressed sounds from Bubba behind you.

Your escape attempt quickly becomes a hunt as you try to evade Bubba. Unfortunately, Bubba is not only bigger than you... but faster. Especially without the chainsaw.

You try to keep your hope as you run towards the road. You can just barely see the path as you try to push yourself further. You're so close... so close if you can just lose him...

But your escape attempt was dead in the water the moment Bubba saw you.

Big strong arms quickly grapple you. It's familiar yet in this current moment harsh. You squeal as you're tugged back, nearly falling only to collide with a chest.

You freeze, the familiar smell of blood and possible rot making you quiver. You know who this is... and you're scared. Your heart rapidly thumps as you hear irritated yet relieved grunts and groans behind you.

"Hey, Bubba..." You solemnly greet, only for Bubba to tighten his hold and sling you over his shoulder. You've lost your chance... you don't know when you'll have another one... you just hope Bubba doesn't tell your brothers.

You're carried back like you weigh nothing as Bubba carries you. His grip is tight and bruising... like he's scared to let you go. You don't bother explaining yourself.

Bubba wouldn't understand.

You quietly resign yourself to your fate as Bubba reaches the house. It's quiet and tense between you two. You wonder if he'll hold a grudge... if he thinks you hate him.

You don't... not really... but you struggle to explain yourself as he pulls you upstairs and into your room. You hear him grunt and grumble, yet you can also tell his voice is cracking. You just expect him to lock you in your room like a troublesome child...

Yet Bubba just sits on your bed and keeps you in his lap. You don't move when he places his head on yours with soft grunts. You can't tell what he's thinking....

His grip around you is tight, like you're ensnared. You can't struggle against his much stronger hold as he squeezes you against him. You can tell your escape attempt affected him... but he wasn't going to hurt you.

Instead, he acts as a bear trap as he holds you tight...

Treating you like a trapped animal caught trying to run to freedom.

[chronicbeans]

Platonic Alastor x Maladaptive Daydreamer Reader

Hehe not me self-projecting again! Anyways, these are kinda based on my own experiences, but I'm trying to make them more generalized.

TW: Maladaptive daydreaming, escapism, dissociation, mentions of depression and anxiety, brief mentions of compulsive behavior/OCD, invasion of privacy, manipulation, peer pressure, yandere-ish behavior (I believe he defaults to those behaviors, no matter the type of relationship), mention of cannibalism (this is Alastor we're talking about...), Alastor is a shitty toxic friend in this

• He's absolutely fascinated by the way your mind works. Even before he knows what is going on, or begins to get close to you, he can tell you are an interesting person. The way you look so distant, like your mind is checked out and flying to far off places without you, is something he hasn't seen before. He wants to pick and prod at your brain to see what's going on.

• He doesn't want to do so the easy way, though. No. Instead, he wants to drag out this process for as long as possible, and make sure you twist and squirm all the while. He loves to make people uncomfortable, after all! That's his specialty, in his opinion, besides his radio show.

• He'll start off with introductions, of course, which is probably when he first got interested in you. That dreamy look isn't so easy to see from a distance, after all. The second he looked into your eyes while shaking your hand, though, it became obvious. How hadn't he seen it before? If he saw this look when he first entered, he would've talked to you first out of the crew at the Hazbin Hotel. Well, besides Charlie... But, that's just because she owns the place.

•The uncomfortable prodding starts in an instant. One of his first questions after getting your name is not "What made you want to come to the hotel?" or "What can you provide to help the hotel?" It's more like "How did you die?", "What are your major vices?", and "What sin have you committed to be brought to Hell?" He wants to test the waters. See what he can get away with without completely scaring you off. If you run away and avoid him, it'd be harder to learn what he wants, and make you uncomfortable while doing so.

• Regardless of whether or not you answer, you are probably a little put off from him. Not enough to completely avoid him, since you can see how some of those questions might help him help the hotel, but enough to be uncomfortable... Which, in his opinion, is perfect!

• He's great at hiding, so if you start noticing him mentioning things you thought were private, you really shouldn't be surprised. He can, quite literally, hide in the shadows at times. He quickly takes notes of your little habits, including ones you might be embarrassed about.

• He may watch you pacing around your room, mumbling to yourself as if you are playing pretend all alone. Or, maybe, he's hiding over your shoulder while you're writing down some elaborate storyline. Perhaps he's watching you in plain sight, seeing you make a bunch of odd facial expressions at seemingly nothing. He may not know why you do this, but he wants to. He would've suspected some sort of substance use, considering it's Hell. Lots of people do so. However, he's never seen you near anything that would cause such behavior. So, that's off his list, for now.

• So, step 2 of his plan begins! As his good ol' pals Husk and Niffty to try befriending you! Or, at the very least, get information from you that you aren't comfortable telling him. Then, have them report back to him with their findings. Of course, Husk seems agitated by the request, but obliges. Niffty seems more than happy to do as he asks, though. A happy worker is a good worker, so he has more hope in Niffty getting the big story than Husk.

• Surprisingly, though, he's proven wrong. The most Niffty got was your fashion sense, favorite types of stories, and that you are very "quiet". Yes, the fashion and types of stories were new to him... But what he seems important, the reason you act so oddly, isn't there. Husk, however, was able to get a lot more out of you, somehow.

• Husk mentions you talking to him, one night, after he saw you skipping oddly down the hall and pass the bar where he was cleaning the glasses before closing it for the night. You seemed extremely embarrassed to have been seen, mentioning that you thought he was asleep already. He then just, politely asked a few questions...? And got answers? How?

• Alastor immediately demands answers, only for Husk to reply "I don't know how to describe it like they did! Most I understood is that they daydream too much. Seems like it's a constant thing going on. They like to pace and prance while doing so, sometimes, but don't like getting caught."

• Now it begins to make more sense... the writing, the talks about stories with Niffty, the prancing and pacing... and most importantly, that dreamy, distant look you have. He can even see why you'd make odd expressions. You're reacting to your own thoughts... He doesn't understand it. He's never heard of anything like this before, especially during his time as a human, but he can tell one thing for certain: You must be his friend, now. Whether you like it or not.

• You are so different from everyone else he's met, you see, and he loves things that go against the norm. Now, while you may or may not be considered normal or not too different by others, you're different and abnormal to him. You somehow succeed in both being polite, smart, and funny to mess around with, while also barely being able to pay attention to the world around you. He's always thought that those two things were mutually exclusive. How can you learn when you can't stop being in your own head? How can someone be polite and not listen? The funny part, though... He can kind of see that. He finds surprising you be sneaking up behind you and tapping your shoulder funny every now and again. Nevertheless, you are going to be his friend.

• Soon enough, you notice his behavior changing, a bit. Less following you around, less vaguely threatening words, and more... quiet. It's eerie, coming from him. However, you also notice him trying to talk to you about stories and books he's heard and read. Even things he's heard during his human life, such as Creole folktales and other stories he's heard in New Orleans, Louisiana back in the 1920s-1930s. It's a bit like a completely different side to him you never expected to see, and never really wanted to, but you aren't really complaining. It's better than him deciding to terrorize you for fun and him asking invasive questions...

• A little more time passes and he decides to ask about small habits, disguising them as him just now noticing those habits, when he's probably noticed them while spying on you months prior. Nothing too extreme. Mostly just your expressions, how it seems like your attention is somewhere else... Nothing like your pacing, prancing, or acting. He wants to establish that he knows about these tiny little things, and now that you're more comfortable with him, you're much more likely to answer. That way, once he moves onto the bigger, more personal questions, you'll already have been eased into feeling comfortable with it.

• Eventually, you get to the point where you feel comfortable calling him a friend. He's already considered you one since that conversation with Husk, but it's a start. Now, he's gotten the lovely privilege of being able to know more about what's going on in that lovely little brain of yours... well, "little" brain is definitely an understatement. From how you describe your imagination, he'd be led to believe your mind must be as vast as the Library of Alexandria.

• Vast worlds, complicated plotlines, complex characters... you talk of odd tales you've created, all in your brain. Ones you've had in your mind for years, some you came up with on a whim, and others, still, that are still being developed. Stories that have been being created over the span of real life years, ones you started then dropped... All of which are being held in your head, with only a miniscule fraction of it being written onto paper. He's truly impressed, genuinely respecting your odd talent, as he sees it. You've perfected the craft of creativity, while he's perfected the art of talking to an audience. Even better, is that he got to learn whether or not his theory of you taking inspiration from stories you've heard was right. Which explains his sudden mentions of stories he's heard in life.

• Now... if only you'd let him tell some of your stories on his radio show! If you wouldn't like that, then he'd probably ask you to write something for his show. That way, it isn't as personal to you, and you wouldn't even need to be credited if you're embarrassed by it! He could just say a random listener sent it in, and he thought it'd be great to read, to show his appreciation for his adoring fans. The world simply must hear the greatness of your mind, dear, and he is not going to stop annoying politely asking you to write something until you do.

• Another thing he might try is to see if he can figure out why you partake in this little habit of yours. He's never heard of it, though he has asked some sinners and demons if they have. Be it Charlie, Angel Dust, some of the other overlords, or a friend of his we haven't seen or heard of, before. More modern sinners keep mentioning a thing called Maladaptive Daydreaming, describing it as a symptom of other mental health diagnoses... but that's the problem. That fits you, you've mentioned that you know of that and it fits you... but that's also just a symptom. Well, a few argue that it may be its own thing, but it is not an official diagnosis yet. So, for now, he wants to figure out why you do it.

• Is it depression? Anxiety? Do you really want to escape from something, and you're doing so by hopping into that little dream land of yours? Is it some sort of compulsion? You seem to not really be able to control it that well, after all, and others have mentioned links to OCD, as well as other disorders that can cause compulsions. Is it sheer, absolute, chronic boredom? Speak to him, dear! What is it? Do you even know? If not, he'll assume it's the boredom option... for now.

• He's obsessed with you, really. You're his friend, and he's very obsessive over them, in his own way. He is as far away from normal when it comes to showing real affection for others, which wouldn't be bad, if it weren't for the fact that a main part of it is him being absolutely suffocating when he's around. That, and he can be terrifying... He's the Radio Demon, after all! It's just worse for you than his other friends, though, because you are different. Being different is a really important thing for him, really, alongside being polite, smart, and funny. Not required, unlike the last three traits, but it makes you more likely to be his friend. You hit the lottery by achieving being all four, but it must be the worst lottery prize in the world.

• He holds the thought that you should just be friends with him. Now, you don't have to be... but, he'd prefer it. If you really want outside friends, sure! You just can't be friends with his other friends. He claims they'd "taint" you with how violent they can be. Plus, since he's friends with other cannibals, some of which do serve sinner and demon meat to others without telling them, he genuinely does worry about your safety and wellbeing if you met those specific friends of his. For your friends, he wants to meet them. He needs to in order to deem them worthy of being your friend, and to make sure it's not someone he knows and is friends with. You deserve perfection, and who knows perfection better than Alastor, yes? After all, he can see that you're perfect. That is more than enough evidence, dear.

• You're one of the few people who he doesn't mind having your attention not on him. Part of your charm, in his opinion, is your lack of attention. All he asks is that you tell him about a story of yours. What is going on in your head that's so important? Oh, a great war between this and that? A psychological horror? Cities beneath the sea? Tell him about it. He finds it fun! Especially if he can see any possible inspiration from events or other stories. He likes to hear your voice almost as much as he likes to hear his own, which you'll realize is more of a compliment than it might sound like, once you truly get to know him.

[yoredoesmore]

Love Language - Physical Touch | Hoshina Soshiro

a/n: i'm having a writer's block so I'm starting a series where i write short drabbles about different love languages featuring our beloved vice captain! (i will forget about this in a week)

summary: even after an argument, both you and Soshiro find yourself longing for the other's touch.

genre: fluff/romance/slight angst

[wc: 729]

enjoy!

You had quite the harsh argument during one of your dates. The both of you were sitting in a fancy restaurant, discussing how you were going to spend Christmas this year. Soshiro wanted to have a special evening with just the two of you, a traditional Christmas celebration, meanwhile you insisted on inviting a group of friends over.

It was a trivial dispute, a fight that could have easily been avoided but both of you had fallen victim to the couple glasses of wine you gulped down so eagerly only hours ago.

So there you were, dragging your feet through the thick snow, neither of you saying a thing.

The cold weather and the strong wind tugged on your skin, making it quite difficult to walk. Especially with the shoes you were wearing, walking straight became a challenge.

Your body was aching for warmth, but not any type, the one that belonged to your boyfriend. His body stood close to yours, moving at a slightly faster pace than yours. You wanted to feel him, have the tip of his fingers dance around your skin and comfort you, but your own stubbornness was holding you back.

And you hated yourself for being this way.

You hated yourself for not standing your ground when in an argument, for always wanting to depend on your boyfriend and throwing your own morals away during a fight, even when you knew that you were right.

But this burning ache that longed for his touch always turned so unbearable at a certain point, so aggressive and strong that it could not be ignored.

You were about to call out for Soshiro, when all of a sudden you felt a soothing warmth engulf your hands. It felt comforting and familiar, like a tender kiss on your skin.

Soshiro had reached for your hand to hold it.

His hands felt slim to the touch and delicate, which was rather unexpected considering the work he pursued. But the tender skin and the familiar warmth made them so unique. Even if you were met with a hundred different hands, his would stand out like a tulip in a field of sunflowers.

Yours were the complete opposite. Upon touching your hands, one could immediately tell that you were handling weapons on a daily basis. Yet for some reason, Soshiro could not get enough of them.

He had wrapped his hands around yours so tight and pulled you slightly closer to him.

Soshiro wanted to say something, the words sat at the tips of his tongue. You wanted to say something, a soft tone sat humming in your throat. Yet neither of you spoke up and simply allowed your hands to communicate.

After a few moments of silence, Soshiro turned his gaze slightly to the side, catching a short glimpse of you.

“Yer always so jolly at work, talking to every soul that passes yer by and blessing their day with ya smile. Just for that one night..just for that one day, I wanna have ya all to myself. I don't want to share ya with anyone, I don't want anybody else but me to gaze upon ya. Especially now during the holidays, the cadets seem to be so merry and cheerful around ya and..its kinda annoying..”

His body suddenly came to a halt as he positioned himself in front of you. Before you could react in any way, Soshiro pulled your hand up to his face and placed a tender kiss on it.

“I'm sorry for being so selfish, Y/n..I can't help it.”

Your eyes widened upon hearing his words, your heart beating in uncontrollable motions.

Soshiro was not one who admitted feelings of jealousy easily and especially not in such delicate way. His eyes locked with yours, searching for reassurance behind their glimmer.

“Why didn't you just say so, Silly? If that is what you wish for then I shall grant your wish.” Your arms wrapped themselves around the man, embracing him in a much needed hug. His hands immediately found comfort on your back as you hugged him, holding onto you tight.

You stayed like that for a while, your bodies melting into one another as you blocked out the cold December air. And the very second you pulled away from one another, your hand was back in his, locked together as they belonged.