#slap a sheet mask on that bitch and wrap him in a blanket and he will turn to MUSH!

[supposed2bfunny]

"The cranky one turns out to be a softy" (stares at murdoc)

He’s getting old; he can’t keep pretending to be a total crank forever! 2D and Russ and Noodle and Ace know the truth...let us see your soft side, you idiot gremlin...

[macnevercries]

You're Mine

Warnings- stalker/yandere tendencies, somnophilia, fingering, male masturbation, penetration, dubcon/noncon, squirting, breeding kink, etc

WC- ~1.7k

This is for @ultimate-astridwriting ‘s  Watch It Creep collab!! (thank you for letting me participate ily)

Dabi had never been one for shopping, going out in public just to have people gawk and point at him was never very appealing. He didn’t need new clothes, there was no one he wanted to impress. Except you. When you went shopping, he couldn't help but love it.

Your constant late night trips became his favorite time of the week. Every time you get new clothes you would blast your music and try on all different outfits with the new pieces you had just bought. Dancing and singing in the mirror, feeling yourself up. Watching you strip and pull clothes snug over your curves over and over never failed to get his dick hard.

On goes a pink tank top and low rise skinny jeans. You take off your bra and brush your nipples over the shirt, looking in the mirror to see them peek through the thin fabric covering your chest. Off goes that outfit, your flawless tits on display, perked by the touch of your own hands. You bend over to pick up a dress to try on, the black thong you wear riding up your ass and giving Dabi an ideal view.

He has a chair pulled up right in front of his window, the perfect view down to your apartment, directly across and down one floor from his. The buildings in your area are packed tight, no more than 10 or 20 feet between the both of you. He takes a seat, spreading his legs and unbuttoning his jeans as he hears your music blast even louder through the thin walls and small expanse of grass that separates your buildings.

He wishes he had a teleportation quirk, that he could hold you in his arms instead of desperately attaching himself to your vulnerable moments. So innocent, you never pull your blinds closed. He often wonders how an angel like you could exist so close to him, in his neighborhood, in his world.

His cock slaps against his stomach, coming to life when he glances up, seeing you peeling off a tight dress. If only it were his hands, his everything pressed up against you, guiding you in your dance while you grind back onto him, hips rolling against his. His rough and scarred hands pump up and down his cock, spreading the minimal precum, the pain of the dry tug spurring him on.

When he glances up from his lap you're putting your pajamas back on, leaving your room to go get ready for bed. Not to worry, he has more material to get off to. His eyes search his room, looking over the various photographs of you hanging on his walls. He’s taken many over time, mostly just normal pictures of you in your apartment or around the neighborhood. But even the most average photos of you entranced him. How could they not, you were just so beautiful.

His eyes run over the photo taped to his wall on the right. He has it placed right next to his window so he can see it when you walk into a different room in the middle of your “session”. The photo depicts you licking dripping ice cream off of your glowing skin on a hot day. Your face is a mix of innocent and erotic, your arms squished together slightly, pushing your breasts up through your low cut shirt. To Dabi this photo is not only perfect because it was captured at the right moment, it’s perfect because it's you.

He tugs harder at his cock, spitting on it roughly and imagining you on your knees for him. How you would wrap your hand around it, cup his balls, swirl your tongue on the tip paying special attention to his piercings all while keeping your eyes glued on him. How he would grab a fistful of your hair and shove your nose to his hips, feeling the contractions of your gagging throat hugging him just right. He’s panting in seconds, making eye contact with the photo one more time before spilling into his hand. He gives a few more pumps, milking himself. He leans over to his desk, wiping his hand off on the matted washcloth that lies there just for this, the one that hasn't been washed in weeks.

When he stands, he sees you walk back into your room with only a small towel wrapped around your body and a face mask, relaxingly flopping onto your bed with your phone. The sight is almost enough to get him going again but he restrains himself, after all he would see you later tonight.

--

Your door creaks, swinging open into your dark apartment. Dabi gets his lock picker from the door handle and shoves it in the pocket of his pants. He slips silently into your living room, he never stumbles, he knows your apartment like the back of his hand. How could he not when you're so obviously begging for him to come over? He has to listen to his baby’s needs.

Your room is down the hallway to the left, right across the bathroom and 14.6ft from your couch. Your room’s door is open, like always. He sits on the edge of your bed, the dip of his weight on the mattress making you roll slightly towards him. He reaches for your face, your skin so soft against his burnt hand. You stir slightly when he tucks your hair behind your ear and wipes the drool from your lip, but he knows you won't wake up, you never do.

Your blankets only cover one of your legs, you must have been too hot. But this is better for both of you because it gives Dabi a nice view of your night attire. Your legs bare, all the way up to your hips. Your unblemished skin begging to be marked by him. You always wear an oversized t-shirt, probably stolen from one of your many ex boyfriends. And only some nights do you wear panties. Dabi counts his luck as he slowly moves your sheets off of you, his breath taken away when he realizes tonight you aren't wearing any.

Your pussy glistens in the moonlight that filters in through your open window, you could never be bothered to buy curtains. Dabi can't resist the need to touch it, to touch you, to claim you. You were his, you just didn't know it yet.

His slender fingers slide through your folds, slightly pinching your clit to watch your pretty little hole twitch and clench at his touch. He slips one finger inside of you, it goes in easily with all of the slick that's gathered and begun to drip down to your thighs. You let out a small mewl when his finger curves to your g-spot, and he adds another for good measure. You never wake up though, you've always been a heavy sleeper.

But he needs you now, he wants you awake. So he kisses you gently, his mouth molding against yours with a softness he didn't know he was capable of. But soon need and lust take over. His soft kisses turn rough, teeth clashing and blood being drawn from your lip. You begin to wake up, he's causing too much commotion for you to stay asleep.

Your eyes blink open to meet his bright blue ones, panic beginning to set in your mind. You take a deep breath, preparing to scream for help but his hand is covering your mouth in an instant before you can even open it. He leans down to whisper in your ear with a gravelly tone.

“If you scream or make any noise, I’ll make sure you can never talk again”

His hand heats up just enough for you to know he’s not bluffing. All throughout his threats, his fingers never stop thrusting into you. Your tired mind is conflicted between fear and lust, you don't know which one to give in to. Your eyes widen and you nod, choosing to comply with him.

You let out a small moan, bucking your hips back against his hand. This causes the nastiest grin to spread across his face, his evil intent sparkling in his eyes.

“You're gonna be a good girl for me, yeah?”

You nod feverishly, your brain not thinking straight. Dabi lets out a low groan at your eagerness, palming himself through his jeans. He begins to unzip them, undressing both himself and you until your bare skin presses against his. The piercings on his cock sting your skin, so cold against your sex.

He kisses your neck, down to your chest and across your torso. “I'm gonna make you feel so good”

He aligns his cock with you, shoving in his entire length in one go. The wind gets knocked out of you, you're breathless as he begins to fuck you at an ungodly pace, never waiting for you to adjust. He murmurs sweet nothings into your ears, kissing you sweetly as if you were in love. Tears begin to fall down your cheek but he licks them away, he knows you want him.

He fucks you harder, curling his hips into yours. The piercings lining his cock drag against your walls so nicely, the previously cold metal beginning to warm up from your shared heat.

“I bet you like that, don't you slut? Prancing around in front of your window every day for me to see. You know what you do to me. Thats why we are where we are right now; me fucking your tight hole and you taking it like the good little bitch you are.”

You moan at his words, his cock bruising your cervix so nicely. His hand reaches down to your clit, rubbing fast and hard circles against your sensitive nub. Your entire body shakes, clear liquid squirting out of you all over him. You grip him like a vice, milking him with your orgasm. He moans loudly, spilling thick white ropes and fucking them into your womb.

“Yeah, you fucking take it, youre mine”

He slows down after a minute, pulling out only to shove his fingers back into your abused hole, keeping his cum safe inside of you.

“You better hold that, I’ll be back”

[teenyweenynightghost]

Haii!! I absolutely adore your writing and was wondering if you would be up to write something comforting with Ethan where reader is having the period from hell? Thank you ❤

Oh ho ho this should be fun

Y/n was sleeping over at Ethan’s for the first time. She had feelings for him for god knows how long, and the night he asked her out was probably the happiest she had ever been.

Their date had been unbelievable. Y/n felt as if time stopped and she was the only person on Earth along with Ethan, as cheesy as that may sound

When it started raining, they both hurried to his car and drove quickly to his place.

“God, I didn’t think the night would end like this.” Y/n chuckled, draining her hair in Ethan’s bathtub, while he was brushing his teeth next to her.

“You can sleep in one of my shirts.” Ethan mumbled, almost choking on the tooth paste

“What?”

“I said” he spit out all the paste and rinsed his mouth “you can sleep in one of my shirts.”

Y/n’s heart skipped a bit and she blushed a bit at his suggestion, before nodding sheepishly and putting her hair in a bun.

Ethan chuckled and muttered a few words Y/n didn’t quite catch, before leaving the room.

In a few moments, he came back with a large t-shirt. It was burgundy and had a logo in the middle. Ethan gave it to Y/n and left her alone to change

That night she had fallen asleep in his warm embrace, listening to the rain drops hit the windows

She felt as if it was a dream come true, and the only thought on her mind was Ethan

Luckily for her, Ethan felt the exact same way

He held her close all night, nuzzling his face into the crook of her neck, and dreamed of her

Ethan woke up to a slap. He opened his eyes grumpily and looked for the source of pain, only to see Y/n turned away from him, in that position all girls sleep in; the one where they have a leg up and they’re on their stomach

That’s when he saw that Y/n had started her period

There was a large, red stain seeping through her underwear and another few spots on the bedding

Damn, he shouldn’t have put on white ones

Stretching a bit and getting out of bed, he started to think about what he could do.

He didn’t know how much Y/n trusted him or how she would react to this, so the two smartest choices that he had were to either wake her up and tell her what happened, or prepare everything for when se would wake up

Eventually, he decided going for the latter.

Heading to the living room and grabbing his keys , he got in the car and drove to the nearest pharmacy around.

The man was walking down the unbearably white aisles of the pharmacy, looking for some ibuprofen and tampons

He really didn’t know what type Y/n used, and he wasn’t about to be like that dude on TikTok who asked his girlfriend what size pussy she was, so he took 4 types

Maybe different colors would mean something…or maybe scent?

He made a mental reminder to ask Y/n if they had any flavors

After searching forever, he ended up having a kilogram of pads, three types of sheet masks and a new lotion, but no pain medication

They must have been hidden

Eventually giving up, he went to the cashier and placed all the products on the register

“Tough times with the lady?” The woman asked, sending him an all-too knowing smirk

“I hope not. Speaking of which, do you happen to have any pain medication?”

Ethan left the store smirking, having received a 20% discount for being “so cute”, and he also got a small chapstick as a gift

His next stop was the grocery shop

He already knew what he needed, so the trip would be easy; Twix, KitKat, Puffy Cheetos, Aloe Drink, and A LOT of Chocolate milk

It didn’t take long for him to find everything, so he wondered around the shop for a little longer, picking up a few more things

Y/n was startled awake by some people screaming outside

She jumped out of bed and hurried to the window, only to see that they were a group of friends who were just pranking one another

She groaned and pressed a hand to her stomach, feeling a painful hotness around the area

Looking back at the bed, her heart stopped in her chest as she saw that there was a trail of blood behind her

Oh gods, her period came in the worst moment possible. Did Ethan see? Did he run away out of disgust?

She paced around the room nervously, thinking of what to do, yet ignoring the sound of running water coming from the bathroom

She shrieked when she heard a knock on the door and tried to hide the bloodied sheets as well as she could.

“Cara mia, are you awake?” Ethan’s soft voice was muffled by the door, which only made Y/n feel worse.

“No?”

She heard Ethan chuckle before seeing him enter the room. He seemed to have a reassuring look on his face, but Y/n could tell there was some pity in there too.

“Wanna come with me?” He asked her softly, taking her silky hand in his and leading her to the bathroom before she could answer

Y/n watched as he opened the door to the bathroom and led her inside. The shower was running and there were some clothes on the counter

“Get in the shower. I’ll take care of everything else.” He said, looking at Y/n so softly that her heart exploded and she burst into a fit of tears

His armed were around her in a second, comforting her as best as he could, but he truly did not know the reason why she was crying

“Baby, is everything all right? Why are you crying?” He asked her, worry written all over his face.

“Im sorry…I’m just” she sniffled a bit, shedding a few more tears, “no one ever took care of me when I was on my period and you’re being so fucking sweet and I ruined your sheets and everything is wrong and my stomach hurts and FUCK why did It have to come now we could have-“

“Woah, woah, woah, take a deep breath, dolcezza. Like that, just relax.” He interrupted her ramblings, wiping the tears off her face.

“It’s okay. Don’t worry about the sheets. I’ll clean them later. We can just stay in bed all day and relax. How does that sound?”

Y/n nodded slightly against his shoulder, pulling herself away and wiping her face.

“Okay.” Her voice was still raspy, and she looked at the shower. At that moment, washing her entire body felt like an unbelievably long and exhausting process. She slumped her shoulders at the thought of it and puffed.

“Let me wash you. It’ll go by quicker.”

Y/n nodded and started taking her clothes off, too exhausted to care about Ethan’s red face. Even though he had offered, he couldn’t help but think about other circumstances in which he would get in a shower with Y/n.

Regardless, it was not the time for such things.

Once she was inside, he grabbed the shampoo and squirted some in his hand, thinking of a way to lather it on Y/n without getting wet.

“Now how are you gonna do that without ending up in the shower too, Mr Edgar?” Y/n teased, letting her head fall back as the warm water glided down her body.

While trying to find a solution, Ethan’s gaze fell on the floor, which was now filled with blood.

“Y/n are you alright?” His tone instantly changed, now being extremely worried about how much blood came out of her.

“Yeah. Why?” She followed his gaze to the ground, seeing what he was staring at. She let out a low laugh before grabbing the bottle from Ethan.

“It’s creepy, I know. You don’t have to wash me.”

“No. I said I would help and I want to. Do you mind if I join in?” He asked sheepishly, concerned about crossing any boundaries with the girl.

“Whatever floats your boat.”

The man nodded, getting out and taking his clothes off. He placed them neatly next to Y/n’s, then got back in the shower.

Y/n was facing the wall, so Ethan pressed a soft kiss to her neck from behind her.

“I bought some goodies too.”

Y/n just hummed in response, leaning against Ethan. His hands instinctively went to her shoulders and started massaging them, earning a few whimpers from Y/n

“I can give you a massage later…”

“Absolutely.”

They both chuckled a bit, before Ethan got to actually cleaning Y/n. He softly lathered the soap all over her body, letting the water wash away the bubbles.

“Okay…I’m gonna leave you alone now, considering that I don’t know how to put on a tampon.”

“Alright.” Y/n responded, blushing slightly from all the contact. She heard Ethan take a towel and dry himself off, before getting dressed and leaving.

Ethan was in the kitchen, his phone in front of him as he sat prompted against the counter

Now close your eyes, and with a deep breath, release all the pent up frustration inside of you

“Um, Ethan? You said you had food?”

The brunette jumped up and hurried to close his phone, blushing furiously as he turned towards Y/n.

“Yes, right it’s over th-“

“Were you meditating?”

“Maybe.”

“You were.” (The bitch was so horny he had to reset his mind)

“You said you wanted food.” He finally managed to switch the topic, as Y/n’s eyes lit up.

“Gimmie.” She stretched out her arms and closed her hands repetitively, beckoning for Ethan to give her the snacks.

“Alright, alright. I’ll grab a few more things and come. Just go in the bathroom and get in bed.”

Y/n pouted, but eventually followed Ethan’s instructions. She was surprised to see that he had changed the sheets and lit up a few candles. She smiled to herself before cuddling up under the blankets.

Soon enough, Ethan entered the room with some snacks and drinks, a hot pouch and some medication.

“Here is some ibuprofen, if you have cramps, and a hot pouch.”

Y/n could have moaned in pleasure when she placed the hot object on her stomach, relieving a lot of the pain.

She gulped down the pills, cuddling into Ethan, who had an arm wrapped around her and another one massaging her butt.

He nuzzled into her neck, smiling a bit and breathing in her chocolatey scent.

“Squishy.” He joked, squeezing her butt, which made Y/n erupt in a mess of giggles.

She leaned over and grabbed a cereal bar, unwrapping it smoothly before shoving it down her throat.

“Thank you so much Ethan. I really don’t know how to tell you…no one has ever done this for me before.” She whispered, twirling a strand of his hair around her finger.

“I’ll always be here when you need me. Now you just need to sleep.”

“Okay…”

A/n: so i know this isn’t particularly a head canon, but the only way I can write is if my brain thinks im writing something short with bullet points, even though it would be a normal piece If I were to remove them😂

Taglist: @fuckim-so-gay @ginny-lily @messyhairday-me @cheese-toastie-11 @wannabemarlenabutiscoraline @simp-per-ethan @maneskinrollercoaster @juststalking @superchrystaldrug @immrbrightsideeee @shehaddreamstoo @tiaamberxx @victoriadeangeliswifey @bidet-and-legolas @makapaka11 @electra-phoebe

[krappyka]

We Don’t Reward Bad Behavior

AKA, baby’s first Roman Sionis reader-insert fic!

So this is, erm... very different than what I’d normally put on my blog! I haven’t posted fic online in years, but I thought, hey, let's take the plunge again. This is only one chapter, I plan on continuing it to at least a second, and then we’ll see what happens from there!

It’s an AMAB character insert, and is, in fact, explicit. Check out the AO3 link for complete tags/warnings.

The first part can be read here on AO3, or below the cut!

You had to stop lying to yourself that your partying days were over, because every time you found yourself hungover, there was a snarky little voice in the back of your head that mocked you for your nausea and headache. And that certainly didn't help any of those feelings.

At least you knew where you were. You grabbed at the heavy sheets that twisted around your body - expensive things, like everything else in Roman Sionis' bedroom. You fumbled with them for a moment, huffing as you couldn't figure out how to detangle them from yourself. After a couple more minutes’ worth of effort, you finally were able to kick them off and stand, finding yourself in a set of matched pajamas you'd never seen before. They fit you perfectly, though, and you chuckled at that. Things like this rarely surprised you anymore.

You rubbed at your eyes for a moment before venturing out of the room, eventually finding Roman sat at his dining table, breakfast set out in front of him and newspaper in hand. He glanced up as you approached. 

"Slept it off?" he asked, the question answered immediately when you winced slightly at the volume of his voice. "Ah. Well, have something to eat, anyway."

A spot at the table was set across from him, and you took your seat, digging right in. The greasy breakfast foods settled your stomach some, and the water helped with your head.

"So, what was it you were so worked up about last night? Remind me," Roman said, not looking up from his paper. You scowled slightly into your food; with the clearing of his head came clearer memories of the night before. Arguing with your best friend. Slamming the door of your apartment on the way out. Making your way to the Black Mask Club and drinking the night away... the jury was still out on the details of that segment. You remembered running into Roman himself, though, and being invited to stay the night. Surely you’d looked a mess. You definitely did now, save for the fancy pajamas.

"Mm. Still in a fuss, then," Roman continued, snapping you back to reality. In response, you huffed, indigent.

"Now, now," Roman chided, waggling one finger in the air. You noted with slight amusement he had sense not to wear his monogrammed gloves at breakfast. "Your chums might tolerate these moods, but I certainly won't. I'm doing you a favor."

You scowled at the slight dig, and Roman added, "Keep it up and I'll really give you something to cry about."

"Didn't even cry," you muttered to yourself. You watched as Roman abruptly put his paper down and rested his chin on his hands, leaning in closer to hear whatever you had to say next. A clear challenge: Watch your tone, kid.

So, you added, "Is that a promise?" and next you knew, you were being yanked up from your seat and promptly pressed against the nearest wall. You now noted the numerous rings on Roman's fingers as they pressed into the side of your face, cheeks squished painfully against flesh and stone.

"Don't worry, doll," Roman snarled, other hand making quick work of yanking your pants down. The elastic band offered zero resistance, and you suddenly noticed your underwear was nowhere to be found. That bastard. "I know just the thing to fix up that vile mood of yours. You wouldn't stop bitching about this last night, bet you've forgotten that, huh? Wouldn't be put down to bed like a good little boy. But I knew better. And I know even better now."

A low whine escaped your throat as the hand on your face pressed in harder, and the other prodded between your legs. You instinctively clamped them together.

"Now, now," Roman murmured, shifting his hand from your face to wrap around your throat. "That won't do." He gripped hard, lifting you to your tiptoes, causing both your mouth and legs to fall open. "Good boy, sweet boy. Nasty, nasty thing. That's right, open up for your daddy."

A few firm swats against your ass coaxed another whine from you, awkward and gargled around the hand on your neck. The noise seemed to agree with Roman, who tightened his grip further as he continued, “Think you can behave long enough to get yourself back to bed?”

Just as you thought you’d go fully limp in his grasp, lack of air making the corners of your vision fuzz up, he let go of your neck, your legs suddenly shocked into supporting your weight. You stumbled, pants tangled around your ankles and mind feeling just as twisted up. Roman steadied you with surprisingly gentle hands. You took the moment to breathe a sigh of relief, smiling at him before bending to fix the fabric around your legs.

This was, apparently, the wrong move to make. A hand was on your neck as fast as it’d been removed a moment ago, now gripping the back, pulling you towards him as a mother cat picks up a kitten by the scruff. You were able to kick the pants from your feet as he stalked off, yanking you with him. There wasn’t a lot of time to think until you were shoved face-first down onto his bed, immediately becoming swallowed by the blankets you’d thrown about on the mattress.

“Left this a mess, too?” you heard Roman mutter from above and behind you. You listened as he moved away from you, slippered feet plapping against the floor, but you knew better than to move a muscle. Just barely, you slowly let out a breath you didn’t even realize you’d been holding. “Messing up my things, fucking typical…”

You fidgeted with the sheets in front of you a bit, letting out what you hoped was a pitiful noise, something submissive and high. You started to smooth them down with your hands as you stayed right where you’d been placed, legs hanging awkwardly off the mattress, ass exposed to the cool air. And, wow, you’d been doing so incredibly good at ignoring your bare, stiff cock, ever since your pants were removed; but the longer it took for Roman to return to your side, the more you wanted to shift your hips against the smooth sheets, for any friction, something.

When he finally did, a merciful chill dragged along your stinging bottom and before you could discern if that was... what, an ice cube?... it was pressed against your asshole. It was like the cold shot down to your toes, and as you arched as well as you could away from the intrusion, it was held more insistently to you.

You had a sudden and vivid memory of those cylindrical ice sticks your mom would put in your water bottles as a kid at summer camp. The realization somehow felt stranger than anything you’d ever done with this man. Great.

Said cylindrical ice stick was definitely thinner than one of your own fingers, but it stung in an odd new way as it slipped inside you. You yelped, scrambling away further, and you heard a long-suffering sigh from above you.

Three quick slaps came down in quick succession, causing you to squeak again but you held yourself in place. “Better,” Roman muttered above you, the last cold remnants of the ice fading as two fingers pressed against your opening. Your mouth fell open in a silent gasp, eyes closing in preparation for the friction. You never understood why people thought things like shower sex were hot; water was a horrid lubricant.

And so you pressed your head to the sheets as Roman pressed two fingers in you down to the knuckle, then slowly worked them in and out, the pull dangerous and delicious. Some small voice in the back of your mind mused that this was actually merciful - you were no stranger to the violent things that could happen in this bedroom, especially with both occupants in a mood - but you didn’t have much will to dwell on it as Roman’s free hand landed another smack on your ass.

“Good boy,” he said, his voice hushed. There was no time for comfort yet, however, as he grabbed a handful of your hair and yanked your head back so you could just barely roll your eyes back far enough to see him. “Finally behaving for me now, huh?” His fingers left you and that hand caressed up your neck, making you cringe at the sticky texture they left there. He smiled, wide and showy, seeing you squirm. “Consequences, doll, consequences.”

He shifted away from you, and you still dared not to move from your spot, your place, especially as you heard the unmistakable pop of a small, plastic bottle being opened. You were rewarded for all your patience by the just-as-familiar feeling of Roman’s cock pressing up against you, and you just knew the bastard was taking his sweet time lining up. He knew how hard you were by now, and you both knew that you knew better than to try to do anything about it. That your release came on his terms. Just thinking about it made you shudder, feet to forehead.

Your hands grabbed at the sheets once more as Roman rocked forward, his hands grabbing your hips at the same time to pull you back onto him. He set a quick pace, rough and uneven, and this time you did gasp, forehead pressed to the bed and mouth hung open. You were probably going to droll onto the expensive fabric. You were definitely already leaking precum onto it.

If you had to face the fallout from that later, you welcomed it.

You did your best to angle your hips for the barest chance of friction on your prostate, but the large hands on your hips kept you mostly still. You whined again, but you’re sure it went unnoticed; it wouldn’t have mattered, anyway.

Several moments and obscenities now grunted into your ear later, you finally, finally sighed as one hand moved from your hip to around your cock. Roman jerked you at a similar pace as he fucked you, sporadic and rough and so, so incredibly hot. His other hand once again found its way to your neck as he whispered in your ear, “So good, so fucking good, doing as you’re told, taking this for me… so good….”

He gripped down, the moans you didn’t notice that’d been spilling from your lips now gargles and coughs, as you felt yourself reaching your peak. You tried to gasp out something, some sort of plea or demand, but you were sure you babbled nonsense as you came undone under Roman. You went limp, the hand around your neck keeping you uncomfortably held up as you continued getting fucked, Roman’s hips stuttering a moment later and he finished inside you. You were finally let down onto the mattress, immediately moving to curl up to the other man as he settled beside you.

You lazily traced patterns against the side of his torso until he shifted you to lay on your stomach, his fingers ghosting over the red flesh of your ass. One finger dipped shallow into your hole, smearing his cum for a moment before you were slowly shaking off the haze of the session.

“...okay, hold on, this is… gross.”

You sat up, trying to look down in vain at what you assumed was still stuck against your neck. Roman stayed lying back, but blinked once, twice, before responding, “Hm. You’re right. What was I thinking?”

You waited for him to go on, but he practically twiddled his thumbs before raising his eyebrows at you and adding, “What? Go get yourself cleaned up.”

“But you--”

“Yes, and?”

You were able to read the tone - insistent, but not cruel. In no way willing to budge, like a kid “compromising” on which of his toys he’d share that day. It was almost endearing, in a way. As much as a man who called himself Black Mask could be considered cute.

At least, whatever tension you’d been feeling, and thus caused more of, earlier in the morning had apparently been worked out through his dick in your ass. You sighed, and made your way towards the bathroom. The argument you’d had with your friend the night before was starting to creep its way back into your head, and you’d kill for another reason to have it distracted back out.

Well, you knew you wouldn’t have to kill for it.

Waiting to make sure Roman was looking up, wondering why you hadn’t scampered off to do as he asked yet, you dragged one finger against the slick on your neck and dragged it slowly down the doorframe. You watched as his eyes narrowed as you shut the door behind you.

Yup, you were absolutely going to welcome the fallout.

[spageddiekaspbrak]

Mando Maraschino

Summary; Eddie was diagnosed with congestive heart failure almost two years ago. He's managed to survive this long, but recently, things have been getting worse. Richie was given 900 hours of court mandated community service. He picked the volunteer program at the hospital and ends up spending most of his free time in the Uris Cardiac Center.

Word Count: 3503

AN: Yo, this is going to be great, lots of jokes and puns. Lots of angst and fluff. I have a lot of OCs in this chapter but don't worry, all of the losers will play a role, especially Stan and Ben. Anywayssss, I don't have many other things to say besides I'm getting an ao3 soon so that's lit. Let's get on with the fic already. 

Masterlist

“Eddie!” Adelaide‘s voice floated from outside her nephew’s room, talking over the blaring alarm he was somehow sleeping through and the softer hum of the oxygen concentrator. “Come on!” Nothing. “Come on! Up! Now!” She rapped her knuckles on the door, carelessly. Then again louder when she didn’t get a response. Still nothing; the alarm still going at it, the oxygen too. Her heart dropped like a stone, through her stomach and into her shoes. She threw Eddie’s door open, darting inside. She flicked on the lights, flushing out the pitch black that her nephew needed to sleep.

She heaved a sigh of sympathy and relief. Eddie was curled up in a tight ball in the middle of his queen-sized bed. The sheets were strewn about like he had been thrashing the whole night, some thrown off the bed and others strangling his legs, another wrapped around the poor boy like a nest. His oxygen mask was half off and she could hear him whimpering, wheezing too. He was drowning in his own sweat; his skin was shiny and clammy, hair stuck to his forehead, and his shirt clung to his body with sweat stains all it. His body was caught in a earthquake and Adelaide walked over, turning off the concentrator and sliding the mask off her nephew’s face, setting it on his night stand.

She grabbed his face gently, tapping his hotly flushed cheek with her index finger. “Wake up, baby. Come on, Eddie, wake up.” Eddie opened an eye, halfway. Little, raspy whines echoed from his throat and Adelaide shushed him. “It’s okay, baby.” She scooped him up into her arms, his skin scorching her’s. “We’re gonna bring you to the hospital, baby. And you’re gonna me okay. It’s all going to be okay, baby.” Adelaide cooed, running a hand through his damp hair as an act of comfort. “It’s okay.” She carried her nephew downstairs with no problem, holding back tears.

She managed to get Eddie in her backseat without much problem. Eddie was short and skinny, with nearly no meat on his bones; it was an effect of his strict diets, picky habits, and his condition. He lay across the backseats, the blanket Eddie had owned since he was born laying half-across him. Adelaide wiped her eyes at every stop sign and light. The dry gasps, cries of pain, and teeth-chattering coming from Eddie was too much. She drove a little faster at each whimper, pressing down on the gas a bit harder and chewing on her lip a bit rougher.

Her head was in a whirlwind, storming around a million different things. The driving force being Eddie dying in her backseat. The thoughts fueling it were too numerous and moving too fast to for her to catch or fully process like leaves caught in a hurricane or a kitten in river rapids. What kept her sane and strong through the storm was what the eye held. In the calm, right in the center of the tornado, where Eddie’s weak breathing and crying was drown out, where there was no noise at all but happy voices, sat a happy family. Eddie, without a concentrator, sitting with his arms around Roland, laughing and giggling with his boyfriend. Sonia and Frank, alive, standing with arms around each other, watching their happy son. Adelaide herself, holding onto a faceless person, with a grin on her worry lines free face.

A loud horn drew Adelaide out of her fantasy. Her eyes snapped to the rearview mirror, to Eddie in the backseat. His chest was rising and falling, quick and choppy, but definitely still breathing. “Hey bitch! The light is green!” A voice shouted from behind her and she leaned over to look in her side-view.

A head was retracting into the car behind her, the flash of a blonde hair and a face pricking at something in the back of her head. It was familiar but she couldn't quite place the thought. She flicked her eyes back to the road, digging her teeth into her bottom lip as she pressed down on the gas.

It was another two minutes down the road until she was pulling up to the Uris Cardiac Center at the Scott Children’s Hospital, parking sloppy so she could just get her kid nephew saf. She raced him inside the second her keys were out of the ignition and the nurses she knew so very well got him into a impatient room quickly. Adelaide stayed in the lobby room of the Uris, sitting in a chair as she tried to calm down.

She barely gave herself ten minutes before pulling out her phone and calling Sonia. Adelaide stood up and walked across the lobby, awaiting her sister.

Eddie's mother picked up on the third ring. “Hello? I'm at work right now, why didn't you just text me?” There was the sound of manicured nails on the generic, black plastic keyboards that all schools seemed to have and heavy breathing underneath her accusatory tone and afterwards.

“Eddie slept through his alarm this morning.” Adelaide mumbled, pacing back and forth in the small alcove that held two water fountains. She wrapped an arm around her head, tucking her face into her elbow. She needed to block her eyes from the fluorescents. Something about these particular lights seemed to give Adelaide a terrible migraine. At least, she swore it was the lights, but Eddie always told her she was too stressed.

“So?” Sonia’s voice was suddenly cruel and manipulative, the breathing even heavier than before. The clacking of her keyboard got more vicious and sharp. “You know I'm busy right now. I’m working, so I can support you and my son. So I can pay for everything he needs, and everything you need.”

The emphasis on you nearly pushed Adelaide over the edge. Adelaide exhaled a long breath and managed to stay calm despite the fact that her sister was being terribly rude.

“Sonia, darling, I quit my job and moved here, across the country, to homeschool him. And you know as well as I do that I'm looking for a job here, I am. But with Eddie depending on me all the time, it's hard to find one that will work.” When Adelaide didn't get an answer she continued, “I know you're stressed, but look, Eddie is sick and we're at the hospital.”

“Good for you,” Sonia grumbled.

Adelaide exhaled. “Did you not realize he was sick when you checked on him this morning?” Adelaide let her elbow drop away from her face. A headache had formed despite her best efforts. So she got back to pacing.

“I didn't check on him.” It was brief. Airy. Empty.

“Excuse me?” Adelaide was stopped in her tracks again. Her voice was just as taken aback as she was. She was joking, right? No, no. Sonia was a lot of things, but not a joker. Definitely not a joker.

“I had to get to work, I was running late. It's early hours today!” Sonia defended herself in that oh so recognizable ‘it's not my fault!’ squeaky, high pitched voice.

In, out. In then out, Adelaide, the woman told herself, patting herself on the cheek gently.

“He's more important than anything else, Sonia. Eddie is dying, okay?” Adelaide coaxed, her eyes squeezed shut. “He's going through heart failure. The tiniest cold or concentrator malfunction could kill him. His life is in our hands. Our. One wrong decision, any decision could mean life or death.” Adelaide lectured. Her words were heavy and so was her heart. Everything she said was true. Her life centered around this kid, so did Sonia’s. Eddie needed them, Eddie needed them to focus on him. “He is your son. He is my nephew. His life is in our hands.”

“I don't have time to visit him today. I'll come in tomorrow. Text me with news, I guess.” Sonia said in an even and chilly tone before hanging up the phone.

God, Adelaide wanted to slap the bitch. Hard. The woman stuck her phone back in her pocket and stepped across the tile floor.. She repeated a mantra of reassurance in her head. It's not your fault, it's not your fault, it's not your fault. One repeat for each tile she stepped on. She told herself those three words over and over again.

She continued it even after sitting back down. This time repeating it for every time her leg bounced until she slammed her hand down onto her leg. Come on Adelaide, breathe girly. It’s okay. It’s not your fault.

In the twenty more minutes she sat there without news she had scrolled through her Instagram feed, flipped through Us magazine, and watched half of a YouTube video. Her video was interrupted by a soft voice.

“Ms. Beasley?”

“Oh? Yes, that’s me.” Adelaide looked up, pulling the one earbud she had in, down and away from her ear. Stanley Uris, a comforting face, stood there in his tall, gangly, awkward grace. His shoulders were tight, up towards his ears and his hands were stuck in his long chino pants.

“Eddie’s got pneumonia. They’re gonna put him on antibiotics. He’s gonna have to take his fluids through IV, there’s no way he can drink with how much trouble he’s having with breathing and how weak he is. tube feeding too. They’re nearly positive he’ll need respiratory therapy. And oxygen therapy, of course.” Stanley informed Adelaide, scuffing his foot along the ground.

“So he’s going to be fine?”

“My dad says nothing’s certain. Cause of his you know. But it’s my dad, he’s a miracle worker. And Eddie is a hardass. Pneumonia doesn’t stand a chance against him.” Stan‘s mouth  twitched into a smile.

“Am I allowed to go in yet?” Stan shook his head.

“Mary will come get you when you’re all clear. They just want to make sure he’s completely stable and observe him for a little while.” Stan moved closer to Adelaide, squatting down to her level and putting a hand on her shoulder. “You did the right thing. Just hold on a little longer and you can see for yourself.” Adelaide put her own hand on top of his, smiling back at the boy.

“Thank you, Stanley, darling.” Adelaide released his hand only to take his face up gently. She pulled him in closer and down to kiss his forehead then ruffled his hair, carefully not to knock at his kippah. “I’m going to go get coffee and the survival kit. If he asks where I went, let him know, please?”

“Of course, Addy.” Stan nodded.

When Adelaide re-entered the Uris, a venti caffè mocha in hand. She had a pink tote bag, that 7 year old Eddie had picked out the day after getting released from the hospital. He had somehow stabbed himself in the stomach with a pencil and while Sonia drove him to the hospital, she had called Adelaide in hysterics. Adelaide flew in and helped Sonia out. Adelaide got an idea of a hospital survival kit from Sonia’s constant complaints and floundering, Eddie’s whining and his favorite gifts, and her own revelations. So the day after her nephew was released, they went to a strip mall and picked up everything on a list Adelaide had compiled.

Almost two years ago, when Eddie got diagnosed, the kit came in handy. It resided in the coat closet, on the top shelf. When Adelaide had grabbed it earlier, she was sad to disturb the thin layer of dust that had formed on the fabric.

“You’re all set, Ads. I signed you in. Kid’s in ‘04.” Adelaide’s favorite receptionist in the world, Paula, set the sign-in clipboard back on the counter in front of her. “Tell him I say hi?”

“Totally. Thanks!” Adelaide flashed a wide smile, moving down the hallway to Eddie’s room. Paula stared after the other totally oblivious woman, chin in hand, until Adelaide turned around halfway down the hall to wave another thank you. Paula nearly fell out of her chair.

“Hey kiddo!” Adelaide grinned, strolling into Eddie’s room and sitting down in the chair by his bed. Eddie was propped up against a pile of pillows; there were tubes in his arms, nasal cannula in, and he was hooked up to the vitals. He looked exhausted and weak. There were dark circles underneath his eye, contrasting again his tan skin. His cheekbones and collarbones seemed to stick out more than usual. His skin was tight and transparent on his face. His eyes were heavy lidded, halfway closed.

“Addy,” Eddie rasped.

“I got the survival kit. And texted Roland.”

“Is he gonna-”

“He’ll be here later.” Adelaide interrupted, setting the pink tote down on Eddie’s lap.

“Is ma?” Eddie asked, digging through the bag. He pulled out a fluffy throw and socks, draping the blanket across himself he passed his socks over to Adelaide. He moved so his legs stuck out over the side of the bed and Adelaide slid on his socks.

“No, I’m sorry, baby. She’s..,” Adelaide’s stomach twisted with guilt. “She’ll be here tomorrow, I promise.”

Eddie nodded, trying to hide that he was getting tearful.

“I put your phone and stuff in the bag. And it’s got all the usual things. You’re probably too tired to keep talking, so I’m gonna-”

Eddie held out the survival kit washcloth to her and she took it, sighing a smile. She brought it to the sink and wet it. She looked at herself in, nearly unable to recognize the worn face glancing back at her. She wrung out the cloth and walked back to the bed, leaning down to push her nephew’s curls back and kiss his forehead before setting the damp washcloth across his brow.

“I love you so much kiddo and I’m so glad you’re okay.” She stroked her thumbs over his cheeks and he gave her that sweet, glowing smile.

Around 4 o’clock, one hour before Uris closed to visitors, Eddie got his first guest of the day, not counting Adelaide.

The guest’s face was hidden behind a bundle of fake red, pink, white and purple carnations and peonies, but Eddie knew who it was. It was the same somebody who always brought him a craft store bouquet of his favorite kinds of flowers, no matter the occasion. The somebody who wore dorky shirts with science puns or Star Wars posters printed on them. The somebody who has stuck with him during his diagnosis, and the surgeries, and all of it.

Eddie’s heart fluttered and he cooed happily, smiling through his sick, swollen face. He sluggishly scooted up the bed. He rubbed his eyes before giving Roland a happy wave.

Roland lowered the flowers and smiled back at his sick boyfriend. Eddie loved his crooked smile and the dimples he got. And the little crinkled lines he got around his eyes. “Hey handsome, I’m sorry the flowers are so squished and you know, um, ruffled but I rushed here as soon as I could, Adelaide texted me-” Eddie, reclining against the many pillows on his bed, made a little noise and gestured to the television which played an old baseball movie. Roland grabbed the remote and clicked off the movie. “But I’m here now and I would have been here sooner...but, anyways, I uh kinda have another gift, hold on.”

Roland set Eddie’s flowers on the bedside table and dragged a chair over, both boys cringing at the noise. Roland sat down, his chair so close that the side of the bed dug into his knees. He slid the nerdy purple drawstring backpack off his shoulder, yanking it open. He pulled out a envelope. “I mean I guess it’s not a gift, it’s just a thing, I don't know. But um here.” Roland scratched the back of his head with one hand and held out the envelope with the other, his face flushed softly.

Eddie grabbed it, struggling to open the paper without ripping the red material or the content. Roland reached over and stuck his thumb under the flap to pull the envelope open for his boyfriend. Eddie wheezed a thanks which prompted a nod in return from Roland. He pulled out a letter and a paper that was folded into quarters. Eddie started on the quartered paper; he unfolded it and his face broke into a wide grin. It was a comic, sketched in pencil.

There was a sketch of Roland wearing a sweatshirt that was much too small for him, it barely covered half his arm, and a pair of red shorts, staring in the mirror. A little speech bubble came off his head, “I love making fun of my boyfriends while I wear his clothes…”

The next panel had Roland opened mouth and his face scrunched up, mid-laugh. “I drink black coffee. I’m super duper gay. I’m a short little weirdo. I’m so cool and awesome, and cute, and sexy, and-”

The next panel had a door swinging open.

The next Eddie attacking Roland in a hug. “I know you are.”

The final was the two laying in bed, wrapping up in each other and the blankets.

Eddie’s eyes welled up with tears. “It’s not good, I’m sorry. I don’t know, I just- I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have...it was a bad idea. I’m sorry,” Roland rambled.

“Is that my..,” Eddie’s crackled voice faded off, his throat too sore and swollen for him to finish. His finger pointed to the mask on his face and the boxy shape on the ground near his bed in the last panel.

“Your concentrator? Yeah, it is.” Roland reached out, setting his hand on Eddie’s arm, stroking his skin. A tear escaped Eddie’s eyes and Roland wiped it away. He ran his thumb over Eddie’s cheekbone gently. Roland moved in, rising from his chair halfway to press his lips to Eddie’s for a second. “Want me to read you the letter, baby?”

Eddie nodded, clearly tired and tuckered out from just reading and admiring the comic. Roland took the papers from him, setting the comic aside, tossing the envelope in the waste basket, and then unfolding the letter. He smoothed it out, setting it on his knees. Eddie turned over to face his boyfriend, resettling the nasal cannula tubes. Eddie took one of Roland’s hands in his own, intertwining their fingers.

“To the love of my life,” Roland started, reading from the paper covered in his sloppy handwriting. “I love you so much. And I will be here with you through everything, I have been so far and that won’t change. You mean the world to me, you are my universe and my sun and moon. I would run to the ends of the earth for you. We may just be stupid teens in love but I want to spend everyday of the rest of our lives with you because you, Eddie Kaspbrak, are the only one I want. I know you don’t get it, how I can have so much hope for our future and how I could possibly think you are the most beautiful person I’ve ever laid my eyes upon or how could I possibly want to stay with you through all of this , but you are gorgeous and something inside me, maybe my gut or like ESPN or whatever, tells me that we’re meant to be. You stressed stronger than anyone else I know, stronger than anything that will ever come your way. I’ve said it before, I’ll say it again. I love you to Pluto and back, baby. Or in the words of a treasured vine, I love you bitch, I ain’t never gonna stop loving you, bitchhh.” Roland finally looked up from his paper to see his boyfriend asleep, drool already pooling at one side of his mouth. Roland laughed softly and set the letter aside with his free hand before clasping Eddie’s tiny hand inside both of his. He stroked the back of his boyfriend’s hand softly with his thumb.

“I know it’s not enough, baby. I know you wish I could magically cure you, I wish I could too. And I’m so so sorry, I’m really really sorry. I know it’s so hard and god I worry about you all the time, I lay awake at night crying and fretting over you. I’m so sorry handsome, but I’ll be with you, okay? I’ll always be with you.” Roland brought Eddie’s hand to his mouth and kissed the back of it. “I love you, Eddie baby.”

He sat there for another hour with nothing but the sound of Eddie’s breathing and the hospital machines, with the buzz of the other rooms playing underneath. Eventually a nurse came in and told Roland to go home, greeting him first in recognition. Before getting up, he pulled out a frame with a picture of them outside Paging All the Readers. He set it on the bedside table and kissed Eddie’s cheek one more time before leaving.

Tag List

@wyatt-ohheleft @myqueenshuri @groovy-wyatt @some-raging-fangirl

[radio-active-imagination]

Ghosts, Kimchi, and Clogged Toilets (Fanfic)

Summary:  A few days before Halloween, ghosts begin terrorizing BTS. Set around Halloween 2014.

Night 1 a few days before halloween, jimin was practicing his lip biting and sexy faces in a bathroom mirror. wow, I am hot, he thought to himself. suddenly a ghost appeared behind him. it had a rotting face, was wrapped in a white sheet, and smelled like unwashed armpits.

jimin thought it was himself at first, and screamed in horror. then the ghost grabbed him by the shoulder and cackled in a low, demonic voice. "hi," it said quietly. "what is it?" said jungkook from the other room. "do you have a zit?" "j-j-jungkook," stammered jimin. "help." jungkook came into the bathroom. "hyung, jinjja--gaaah!" he jumped back against the doorframe. the ghost dumped rotten egg and kimchi on them and then ran out, its shoes squeaking on the floor.

the next day in the practice room, jungkook and jimin told everyone about it. v's eyes were very big as jungkook described the ghost. "it went past me into the bathroom. it smelled like unwashed armpits, but I ignored it because I thought it was suga," said jungkook. j-hope giggled and suga gave jungkook a look that could have boiled tungsten.

Night 2 jin had to go get rapmon's ipod from his room because his died. with the hallway light, jin looked at the horrific state of the dark room. "rapmon..." he sighed. carefully, he picked his way over to the room's light switch. suddenly, a sheet clad figure arose from a pile of suga's ripped jeans, right next to jin. jin squeaked in fear, stumbled, and fell on his butt. jin wasn't very scared though, because this ghost had just a floral-patterned sheet draped over its body. it gave jin a wet willy and ran out.

Night 3 v opened a closet and a mannequin dressed as suga fell out. it was smelly and had ugly eyes. but the real suga was sleeping in the practice room.

Night 4 v was taking a shower. when he came out, someone had written "HELO" in the steam on the mirror. he blinked his big eyes in soft, cowlike surprise. rapmon came in to get his toothbrush, and snorted when he saw the mirror. "v u spelled that wrong." "i didn't write it," said v, his eyes big and innocent. rapmon dropped his toothbrush in the toilet.

several hours later, bts depressedly sat down outside the bathroom. They had tried to get rapmon's toothbrush out of the toilet with some wire hangars, their hands, the toilet brush, and the plunger, but had only succeeded in overflowing the toilet and half flooding the bathroom. It was 3 AM, so they couldn't call a plumber. j-hope's hair looked like a rat had been chewing on it, and v smelled like a toilet. jungkook was trying to hold his breath. "i think those ghosts are out to get us," said jimin. "why, though?" jin wondered. "we haven't done anything bad or anything that would make ghosts want to haunt us...have we?" everyone slowly shook their heads.

Night 5 v was going to get in j-hope's bed. but when he touched the blankets, they shocked him with static electricity. j-hope moved. The blanket crackled and lit up with static electricity, and j-hope's eyes glowed in the dark!! after v's sudden shock of fear melted away like butter on a hot skillet, he saw that the eyes were glow in the dark googly eyes stuck on j-hope's face. v giggled his deep giggle and pulled the eyes off. j-hope woke up, saw the eyes, and screamed like a little girl. he jerked backwards and banged his head on the wall.

after that, j-hope decided to stay up and catch the ghosts. he didn't have to wait long. a ghost started sneaking up to jin's room. j-hope tiptoed up and tapped the ghost on the shoulder. "boo," he said. the ghost turned around to see j-hope grinning manaically. the ghost screamed at the sight of j-hope's face. it sounded like a chipmunk. j-hope screamed at the sight of the ghost's face. it was wearing a scream mask. they both ran away in opposite directions.

Night 6 rapmon was in the kitchen looking for the last ramen packet that suga had hidden. suddenly he smelled a wave of grandma perfume and mothballs and saw a flutter of floral-patterned sheet out of the corner of his eye. the ghost jumped him. rapmon flailed his arms like one of those floppy gas station tube thingies caught in a hurricane, but managed to grab a plate and smash it over the ghost's head on the way down. Unfortunately, he also grabbed the ghost's sheet too, pulling it on top of him like they were in a romantic K-drama. hearing the crash, jin rushed to the door and peeked his head around the frame. He blinked his gorgeous giant camel eyes slowly. "rapmon?" he called, only seeing a sheet amongst a pile of broken objects. the ghost rubbed ground-up ramen in rapmon's face and sashayed out.

Night 7 bts was in the practice room late, finishing up some choreography. jimin and jungkook had started screwing around, pinching v, rapmon, and jin and pretending to be the ghosts. suddenly the real ghosts came in, all three of them. bts was so surprised, it was like the spanish inquisition had just come in. j-hope screamed like a little girl and jumped into rapmon's arms. he staggered under j-hope's 68,038 grams. suga walked up to the nearest ghost and bitch slapped it across its cheeks. it let out a sharp howl of pain, like when you step on a lego. suga pulled off the scream mask and sheet, and it was................... .....................baekhyun!

"baekhyun??" said rapmon in disbelief. "you were the ghost??" "me and kai and taemin," baekhyun squeaked. he pulled off the voice changer. "sm sent us to distract and upset you." "you were getting too popular," said taemin from under the floral pattern sheet. "why couldnt someone from girls' generation do it?" jimin muttered. "it wasn't a very good idea," kai admitted, taking off the rotting face mask. "tao took one look at me and started crying and chanyeol insisted on taking a selfie with me." he took off the growl voice changer. "tao couldn't speak korean for three days after." "it also wasn't helpful when lay purposely started mistranslating everything tao said into something sexual," taemin sighed.

The Spanish Inquisition.

also on my ao3

Notes:

1. Yes, my first language is English. The bad grammar, spelling, and punctuation is intentional. 2. Most of this is made up, but I did see somewhere that V likes crawling into other peoples' beds to sleep/cuddle with them. :) I doubt there's much of a rivalry (if any) between EXO, SHINee, and BTS. 3. I have no idea how much J-Hope actually weighs. 4. This is a stupid crackfic. 5. This is a work of fanfiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a greatly exaggerated manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is partially coincidental, mostly fabricated, and should not be construed as a genuine portrayal of such.